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Wife Swappers


by Sophie Louise

I sat down at the dining room table, with my seven sisters behind me. Mother stood opposite, behind a man I didn't recognise.  I was also ignorant of why I had been called here. The man began to speak.
"My name is Paul Johnson. I am the Managing Director of Global Biotechnic Systems. Your mother, as you probably know, is my maid". Here, my Mother looked towards her feet.
"My company recently conducted an investigation into the leaking of secrets - secrets that only I and a few other people knew - to our main competitors. your mother was found to have stolen the files form my computer, before passing them onto a friend at our competitors. It wasn't hard; your mother was an incredibly careless thief, who was in way over her pretty little head."
I wasn't really surprised; certainly, I didn't consider my mother a thief, but merely a single mother who had a family to support. Ever since my father had walked out, my family had lived on the poverty line, and mother had done everything she could to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. It merely seemed to me that her determination to look after her family had led her into stealing.
"now, I know what you're expecting; that I have come here to inform your mother that she has been fired, and that a prosecution will ensue. The worry on your face betrays you. And indeed, it is my intention to fire your mother, and prosecute her to the fullest extent of the law."
My heart stopped. There was no way I or my eldest sister could support our younger siblings.
But Mr Johnson went on.
"However, I could be dissuaded, if you comply with a proposition I have put to your mother". My mother looked at me with earnest, sad and imploring eyes.
"You see, Global Biotechnic Systems investigates cell-management; specifically, the way in which we may reorder cells, and more specifically genes, in order to modify a person's physical form. And that forms the basis of my proposition. But I'll let your mother tell you the rest."
"Dylan...Mr Johnson here wants you to participate in an experiment. If you agree, he's agreed not to fire me, or inform the police of my theft. But it's entirely up to you".
In my heart, I had readily agreed; I had several friends who had participated in medical experiments by the local university in exchange for money, testing out drugs, cosmetics and the like. so I was open to Mr Johnson's suggestion. but I still had some questions.
"what sort of experiment, Mother?"
"I'll answer that", interrupted Mr Johnson. "Your sex will be changed. Not mentally, but purely physically. That is all".
I was stunned. I looked at my mother, but she looked away, her eyes full of tears. "Dylan, it''s entirely up to you" she stammered.
"there is one other aspect to my proposition", went on Mr Johnson, now smiling and settling back into his chair, "that may make it far more amenable to you. I intend to take you, in your female form, as my wife".
"you're crazy!" I shouted, climbing to my feet, ready to smack this obscene man in his mouth.
"Calm down", ordered Mr Johnson. "Before you make any outbursts, or try to assault me, I'll remind you that your family' s welfare lies in the balance. Indeed, perhaps more than you realise. I'm a very wealthy man, Dylan. Any wife of mine would drink only the finest wines, eat in the finest restaurants, and be the envy of almost any woman in the world. You would want for nothing. Neither, I might add, would your family; your mother and your sisters would be set up for life. No more worries, no more watching the pennies. They too would eat well, in a house of their own, and enjoy far better prospects than your mother could currently provide. Especially if she spends the next ten to fifteen years in jail".
"but why me? Why don't you get a real woman?"
"Two reasons. When we change your cells, we can rearrange them in any way we want; you shall be turned into the perfect woman, or rather, my idea of the perfect woman."
"what's the second reason?"
"well, I can't let your mother go entirely unpunished for her crime. Before, I genuinely liked and respected your mother; she was polite,. friendly, and helpful and so on. So I'd like to see her and her family set up well. But I would demand that she be reminded of her crime, even while she enjoys such relative luxury. So every time she lays out a table full of fresh food, every time she buys a new car, every time she feels an ounce of satisfaction at being able to provide for her family, I want her to remember that she only enjoys such things because she had to give her son to her boss.
The choice, of course, is yours".
As you might imagine, my head was spinning. on the one hand, I could in one fell swoop ensure my family's happiness for ever; but it would mean giving up my identity forever. Then I remembered the alternative: my mother could never do 10 years in jail. Hell, the thought of not being able to look after her children would kill her."
I looked Mr Johnson in the eye. "I shall have to think about it, Sir."
"Well, don't think to long; you've got 24 hours. If I don't get a decision by then, expect the police around here.".
Mr Johnson then left, his physical presence being replaced by a vast silence. My mother returned, after seeing Mr Johnson to the door.
"Maria, can you put the children to bed? Dylan and I have to have a talk". My eldest sister then led my smallest siblings to bed, as my mother seated herself opposite me. I turned away, unable to bear seeing the sadness in my mother's eyes.
"Dylan, honey, you know that the decision is entirely yours; nobody could blame you if you turned Mr Johnson down".
"mom, I'll have to turn him down; it'll be okay, you'll get parole, hell, you might not even be found guilty, Maria and I can get jobs, and by the time you get out, I'll be a man, and I can take care of everything."
"son, I'll leave it to you; but losing my children would break my heart".
That night I did not sleep; over and over I rolled the pros and cons through my head.

Of course there was only one decision I could make; the decision that ensured that my mother was kept free and employed, and that my family was looked after. I informed my mother the next day, explaining my reasons. She kept a blank face.
"son, are you sure?"
"yes mother."
Relief flooded her face as she wrapped her arms around me.
"Oh, my little Dylan!" My beautiful, brave and beautiful son!" She sobbed into my shoulder. When she had calmed down, she composed herself.
"Are you sure about this? That you'll have no regrets?"
"Of course I'll have regrets. I've not even had the chance to be with a girl yet; and I wanted to be a man with a career, for people to look at me with admiration." My mother looked at me sadly. "And I'll have to give up football!" Laughter again flooded my Mother's face.
"Well," she began, "I have to say, sex as a woman is pretty damn pleasurable too. And you could take up beach volleyball!".
I laughed, but then the ramification of what she had said hit me. "Mr Johnson won't want me to make love to him, would he?"
"oh Dylan....I'm sorry, but of course he would. You'd be his wife".
I trembled uncontrollably. Mother took my arm and led me to a chair.
"mmmom...I couldn't....I mean...."
"it's okayit'sokayit'sokay" she repeated endlessly. "Look, calm down, and have a think abut it. Remember: it's your decision entirely".
    I spent the afternoon curled up on my bed. I though first of having a man moving between my legs. As soon as I started coming round to that, I though of the reality of a thick, throbbing penis, slick with cum. And I thought of what it would be to be...penetrated.. To have a man on top of me, and  inside me, his body on mine. To be used for his pleasure, until he dumped his semen deep into my body. My stomach felt like it was being turned inside out. But for some reason, I kept forcing myself to face the reality. I, Dylan Jones, would have to take a man's thick, throbbing  penis in my mouth, and feel it grow on my tongue until it filled my mouth. I would have to close my lips tightly on it, and let it choke me until Mr Johnson deigned to empty himself into my throat. I thought of the taste of a cock on my tongue, and of the heavy feeling of semen as it settled in my stomach, irretrievably within my body. And i would have to do such acts whenever requested; hell, with the difference in size between a man and a woman, I'd have to do such acts whenever ordered. And I'd have to be grateful, no matter how disgusted I was with myself. I fell in and out of consciousness all afternoon, my dreams full of images of naked men, one naked man in particular.
    The fact remained, however; however disgusting, these were merely physical acts. If I was to effectively sentence my family to a life of poverty, and put my mother in jail, there would be no way I could live with myself. After all, even in the body of a girl, my mind would remain the same; it was merely a physical change. I would still be Dylan. I merely had to act the girl.

My mother came into my room. she had obviously been weeping.
"Son, have you made up your mind?"
"yes, Mother". There was no need to say anything more. Mother knew what decision I had made.

Mr Johnson had selected an opulent hotel room for the administration of his medicine. I lay on the bed, naked, while a Global Biotechnic systems orderly prepared for the operation. I was to be sedated, while a small capsule was implanted in my groin, directly behind my testes. Mr Johnson would be in attendance, and he had allowed my mother to watch. If the operation went as planned, the consummation would follow shortly afterwards; Mr Johnson wanted to make sure his wife was fully willing. I prayed that my mother would not be in attendance for that.

I woke as the anaesthetic wore off. As soon as I was fully conscious, the faces of my mother and Mr Johnson came into view. I pulled myself up on the bed, aware of an unusual heaviness on my chest.  "hello sweetie", my mother said, kissing me. "Hello gorgeous", said Mr Johnson, who gave me another kiss on my other cheek. It took every nerve in my body to refrain from turning away. It also took great determination not to shake off his hand, resting on my thigh. He beckoned for a mirror to be brought over, as the sheets covering me were removed.
"this is the new you, honey", he drawled.
In the mirror was an unbelievably beautiful girl; small, perhaps, but well proportioned, with small, firm tits, and a large, rounded but similarly firm butt. Long black hair flowed across my shoulders, framing a face composed of large brown eyes, a cute small nose, and the poutiest lips that ever were. They looked like they were designed to be wrapped around a cock. Which, of course, they were.
    It seemed Mr Johnson had the same idea.  The hour had come, when I would either condemn my family to poverty and my mother to jail, or condemn myself to never being anything more than the ever-obedient plaything of a rich playboy. He immediately ordered everybody from the room. Except, that is, my mother. she protested. He replied to the effect that if I failed to perform as a wife would, she would be taken directly to the nearest police station. I could see the anguish on her face. To see her only son turned irredeemably into a woman was one thing; now she would have to see him ravished by a man. My lot was no better, of course. I was to be the girl in a sex act, with my own mother there to hear every moan.
Mr Johnson went behind a screen to slip out of his clothes. When he re-emerged, I had the shock of
my life: hanging from his crotch was the longest, thickest cock I had ever seen. I noticed my mother had raised her hand to her lips, and her eyebrows were high on her forehead, above misty eyes. mr Johnson strode forward confidently, his member slapping against his thighs.
"you don't think you were the only beneficiary of  GBS technology?", he laughed.
He stopped about a yard from my bed, next to where my mother stood, her eyes nervously darting between my face and Mr Johnson's cock.
I couldn't think what he wanted.
"You don't think you're just going to lie back and let me do all the work, do you?"
I still could not understand him. My mother turned to me, while Mr Johnson stood, legs slightly apart, his hands on his hips. "I think Mr Johnson wants you take him in your mouth, sweetheart", she said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "remember, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do".
She hadn't finished her sentence before I was sliding off the bed, and fell to my knees before Mr Johnson. I could see my mother's shocked expression in the mirror. I put my hand around Mr Johnson's cock.
"remember, you don't have to do anything you don't want to", he mockingly sneered. I could feel the heat coming off his cock, and see the glistening pre-cum on the head. I remembered the fears that ran through my head the afternoon before.  I put my lips to the head of this throbbing, engorged and gorgeous penis, and paused. Mr Johnson grabbed a handful of my hair, and forced my head down, until my lips hit the base of his penis, and the head was a long way down my throat. I heard a gasp form my mother as my head was violently jerked back up.
"C'mon, bitch", Johnson commanded, "show me what a slut you are". Via the mirror, I looked in my mother's anxious eyes, and dutifully commenced bobbing my head up and down on the shaft. I quickly glanced at the mirror, and I swear I saw a slight smile on my Mother's lips. The rest of the time, my eyes were closed, so I could concentrate all the more on the task at hand. I fell into a trance, broken only when Johnson's hand rested on my head once again, and pulled it off his penis, which was on the edge of covering me with its contents.
"Back on the bed". I knew what was coming up. I lay back, spread my legs, and stroked my pussy; in truth, I still partly thought I'd find a cock there, but there was no time for contemplation of my transformation.
"You can leave your pussy alone. You're going to be my back0door gal".
"what?" I looked at my mother. She intervened.
"No, c'mon, no, he's given you a blow job, please Mr Johnson, just fuck him straight, please!!"
"I want to see if SHE will perform all of the duties of a wife", replied Mr Johnson.
Meanwhile, I had indeed turned on to my stomach, my asshole submissively presented for my husband. I knew there could be no other way. My mother saw this.
"one moment, please", she sniffled. Reaching into her handbag, she retrieved a small tub of Vaseline. "Here", she handed it to me. i had no idea what it was for. Despairingly she took it back, and after unloosing the lid, spread a generous amount on and inside my asshole. "Just try to relax, honey, and remember, I'm here for you" she whispered.
"Relax?" questioned Johnson. "No no no, I want her nice and tight". With that, I felt his pelvis slap against my butt cheeks. A moment later, I realised that I'd been penetrated. A man's penis, a man's huge penis was inside me. Deep inside me. And then I started to scream. Johnson paid no heed, withdrawing his penis before the massive implement was once again rammed deep into my abdomen. I couldn't see my mother's face, but I could hear her sobs, interspersed with a murmured "my son, my son". My concentration on her anguish was such that, as implausible as it sounds, I ignored the pain. All I could feel was a fullness in my body. A pleasing fullness. I was enjoying having a man inside me. Hell, I loved having a man inside me. I rested on my elbows, and began pushing backwards with every thrust, so as to get Johnson's penis in me all the further.
     Johnson responded with delight. My mother, whose crying had subsided, let out a snigger. I was a harlot, a strumpet, I was a, a, a.... woman. My stallion's thrusts sped up, and I slapped my ass back against his body ever more violently, until he let out a long sigh. I felt his cock, still lodged in my body, jerk several times, shaking my whole body. He slid out, his penis slick with lubricant and cum. I fell again to my knees, and cleaned his cock with my tongue, until it had shrunken in my mouth. He pulled me to my feet.
"What do you say, precious?"
"Thank you Mr Johnson"., I whispered in between shallow, panting breaths. He smiled.

I lay back on the bed as my ravisher went for a shower. The silence between myself and my mother was uneasy. Eventually, she looked over to me.
"are you okay?"
"I'm more than okay. I know you said sex as a woman was good, but I never realised it would be that good!" As soon as I had spoken these words, I couldn't believe I had been so unbridled as to speak to my mother in such a way. I was relieved when she leaned her face in close to mine and whispered under her breath, "I never had such a gorgeous stud to play with!" She got up to leave. "I think we all got the best out of this deal, don't you sweetheart?"
"If he fucks me everyday like that, I think we did!"
My mother's face looked shocked; I quickly apologised.
"Mother, I'm sorry, I'm not really a slut, I was just pretending".
Her face broke into a smile.
"You're not a slut, sweetheart. you're just a woman".
And with that she left, heading towards a better life.

I of course, remained. But I got a better life too, in luxury I could never have dreamed of; Sure, I have to cook, clean and iron, but I'm happy to do such things for my husband. And when I eat in the finest restaurants, I must eat what husband orders, wearing the clothes my husband tells me to wear, and dare not talk to another man, because my husband tells me so. And of course, every night I'm bent over whether I like it or not; I can be called at all hours of the day to kneel under my husband's desk and receive him in my mouth. And I must always be grateful. And I am. Because he's my husband.

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