Wednesday, December 14, 2016

New Punk Asthetic (genderswap commission)

another bodyswapping, genderswapping story. the requests are coming in quick and easy to work on so I keep cranking these out. more fighting to come soon, I promise. But a lot of work going into my novel stuff; I've promised a few sources I'll have the 4th part of Heranes out by Xmas, and I'm trying to get my work schedule balanced since my new position doesn't leave as much time for sneaking in writing. Also a more legit novel in the works, but that's a bit aside from this, and we'll see if I want it associated with the blog or not.


There were a few things out of place. First, Jake saw the silvery cube on his desk. A few lights blinked lazily beneath it, making it look like a sci fi, semi-translucent version of those old Simon games. He faintly remembered it as he woke up. He'd tried going out to a bar with a few close friends, but they were social drinkers. Jake was most definitely not, and ended up just heading home for a soda alone while his friends flirted with women. He'd had a few awkward, short-term relationships through his college days, but by the end of his Junior year, he still never anything serious. He had trouble committing to them, and his friend always told him what he already knew: he lacked confidence.

It was on the way home that he found the cube left in an alley. He toyed with it a little, still looking shiny and clean despite the stray cat sniffing at it. It was soft like some kind of stress ball or kid's toy, and his squeezing fingers left little indentations that slowly faded back outward. It felt like it was responding to him with its lights and soft outside as he muttered to himself. "Confident, huh? Yea, I wish..."

The next thing Jake noticed was wrong in his room was that his bed was too small. He was a short guy to fit his meek attitude, so he normally had plenty of space. Now his bare feet were sticking out from under the blankets and hung off the foot of his bed. He grunted and shifted in the bed, his voice thick and slurred from the "busy" night as he found his clothes fitting tighter than he remembered them when he fell asleep.

When he looked over, his roommate must have gotten somewhere to stay (or pass out) since he wasn't in their cozy off-campus apartment. It was late into finals week. Had he left already? He brushed some of the long blonde hair from his face when it fell in front of his eyes... and remembered he didn't have blonde hair. Or pink fingernails.

He quickly got out of bed, looking down at his body... or whoever's it was. It was nothing like him. The body looked like a tall, pale woman, but built like some kind of amazon. He had bigger tits than any of his previous girlfriends, at least double-d's since his grabbing at them in confusion, even his bigger hands could barely wrap around them. Blond hair hung over his shoulders, some sort of red hair tie hanging off of one side of it. He wore nothing except a sports bra and some snug panties between a set of long legs and muscular thighs.
When he'd felt up his muscles and breasts long enough to be convinced of the body he was in, he ran across the hall to the bathroom. He didn't stop to think that it was the boy's room, or wonder what the other staring roommate thought when a busty amazon ran out of his room (presumably that Jake had somehow managed to score). He shut the door hard enough to rattle the door frame, surprised at the strength to the new body. He quickly went to the mirror and saw... him, he supposed.

The first impression he got from the fit female form in the mirror was some kind of fitness model or weightlifter. The kind that would go to the gym and actually pump iron instead of attending yoga classes. He had hair so blonde that it was almost icey white, and cut boyishly short on one side so that it barely reached the tips of his earlobes. The other side was even shorter, buzzed down to a punkish and attention-grabbing sort of asymmetry. A small but noticeable stud pierced one nostril and his fingernails were painted a neon pink, a cute and almost almost comical contrast against the thick, strong hands. This body wasn't just bigger than David's usual one: it could kick his ass ten times over.

"Thees iss boolshit," he muttered, and his bright blue eyes widened as soon as it left his lips and hit his ears. "Woot iss... hallo? Thees iss Jayke." Holy shit. The cube had turned him into a punk rocker Russian muscle bitch.

And yet, he couldn't be mad. For one thing, he was hot. He'd think it was kind of a butch look, but the big tits and pretty face made up for that. He turned around to make sure, and just as he suspected, he had a hell of a defined ass. He turned to pose for himself in the mirror, flexing his muscles. They were out of this world, but he was clearly packing at least a softball-sized bicep in each arm. Apart from (he paused to stretch out the panties and look down to be sure) missing a penis, he had essentially upgraded in every way. Bigger, stronger, sexier... and seeing himself flexing a set of muscles that could have lifted him over their had him already bursting with confidence. It was like the cube, whatever it was, had sensed his fears and weakness and... upgraded him.

"Da... this will do," he smiled at the mirror.

James had a bit of juggling to do to rearrange his life. He sent his roommates a few emails about changing colleges in a hurry, and would discreetly keep up with them by texts and emails (no voice, no video, of course). In the meantime, Jane had moved in as their new roommate. He didn't have anywhere else to go that he could afford, and casually brought it up when the boys brought up their leaving roommate. They welcomed a "feminine" touch to the place, but he'd set some early precedent about who was the feminine one. He wasn't much of a drinker, but with his new body and confidence, he'd joined in their small house party to welcome her. "Jane" Palpovich drank them all under the table, beat everyone in attendance at arm wrestling, and nearly twisted Mikey's arm out of the socket when he tried to get handsy with him. "Don't pushing your luck with Jane, comrade," she warned him in her tonguey accent and broken English before finally letting him go. The awkward accent that seemed to filter his every word just make Mike even more cowed and intimidated.

Jane went through several life changes, as one would expect. It wasn’t an easy jump, since he had to basically abandon his old life completely besides his roommates. He stalled his family enough by telling them he’d explain when he went back home next. He didn’t imagine they’d believe it over Skype. He had to drop out of college, since it would be hard to prove that he was the same person at all to keep the course credits. His parents covered the rent while he was enrolled, but he’d need a job before long.

Fortunately, the roomies kept inviting him out to treat him to drinks. It started to look obvious why when they started taking bets with strangers to arm wrestle with Jane. The burly blonde beat the biggest guys they brought to her. He slammed down the arm of their latest jock he’d looked at with envy on campus before giving a loud laugh. “Come back furr more if you vant to lose your money again, beetch.” Jane snatched up the money with a quick proud flex for his cheering friends before Jake went to refresh his drink at the bar. He’d been drinking much harder stuff than he used to. Soda and beer had become straight vodka. His body weight and metabolism what it was, he found himself able to pound the double shot in one go and gesturing for another. It was then that he caught the eye of a cute brunette girl from campus checking him out. The old Jake would have smiled awkwardly and went back to his friends. "Jane" ordered another drink and brought it over to the girl.

"Please-ed making acquaintance, beautifull littell lady. Jane couldn't help but notice you admiring Jane muscles, da?"

The coed smiled and looked him over. "I mean... yea," she laughed as she started to blush. "You look really... interesting. But I was here with a friend..."

"Not anymore you not." Jake put a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, getting a surprised (but charmed) squeak out of her. "You will find Jane ees very good friendly."


The bar turned out to be a regular hangout for Jake, for various reasons. He kept seeing Steph, the brunette girl he had hooked up with that night. He made spare cash with quick bets, though it became mostly just out of towners or junk frat kids who dared to think they could outdo him at anything with his new body. The place also didn't check IDs if you looked over twenty (making it so popular with the college kids), and his body looked well beyond her college years. You didn't get that kind of body from getting the freshman fifteen, that was for sure.

He'd also won a drinking contest they held one night, and when some of the men got rowdy afterward, a brawl broke out. Jake's friends urged each other to run, but Jane dove right into the fray like some sort of Russian valkyrie. Having this much power and no one to really try it out on (except for when Steph wanted it rough some nights) really had him itching for a fight, especially after a few pitchers' worth of strong beer finally giving him something of a buzz.

Whatever "Jane" had been or was supposed to be, she was built for fighting. Jake's head couldn't even keep up with all she was doing, bashing beer bottles out of peoples' hands, throwing grown men to the floor, and knocking one after another down and out with punches, elbows and accurately-applied knees. Maybe it was his lack of testosterone lately, but it felt GOOD to go aggro for once. "Fuckeeng light-weight poozy!" Jake snapped at the last one before he banged his face into the nearest table, letting him flop to the ground. "And stey down, beetch!"

He grabbed Steph by the ass confidently and took her to bed with a passion that night (and one more girl to spice things up, so long as her jerk of a boyfriend was unconscious on the floor with a missing tooth). He also got waved over by the bartender, who had been so impressed that she offered to hire him on as a full-time bouncer.

"Danka," he told the wispy-haired old owner. "But Jane is... Jane is legal, but Jane is not you say... citizensky, da?"

"Well, the shit we have going on here, we don't want the police involved in the first place." The older woman grinned and winked at the burly Russian. "We can pay you under the table."

And the pay was good. Jake was lying naked in his bed with a new pair of women one day (Steph was busy; her loss) when he noticed that his body did, in fact, need some maintenance. His usual diet and all the alcohol was starting to lose some of his washboard abs with a soft bit of fat that was nowhere to be seen on Jane's body outside her hips and chest. He had considered messing with the cube again, but he certainly didn't want to turn back to his old male body again. So instead of saving up for the new game system, he bought a gym membership. The time he spent on his computer gaming was now spent jogging and lifting weights. "Why battle imaginary orcs when you could hit an actual heavy bag?" he figured. Instead of Netflix binges, he was flirting with women in the bar or throwing out former classmates for being too rowdy or too young.

He also blew a lot of his early paychecks on his new clothes. He couldn't wear less than half the stuff Jake used to wear, so he went to the nearby mini mall to stock up. The usual places didn't feel worth the attention; they were for men or for a gamer with a sense of humor. He was a woman with a body that demanded to be shown in a particular way. So instead, he went to the clothing stores famous for a lot of black that played heavy metal so loud you could hear it through the shut doors when you walked by. After food and rent, his entire check went into black muscle shirts, gym shorts, loose jeans and thongs (the last two seemed to pair up in a way he especially enjoyed). He topped it off with a new hip flask that he kept filled with the free drinks he got as a perk to his job.

Things were strange now. They had changed so drastically so quickly. He was drinking, fighting, working out, sleeping around, and dressing both sluttier and more punkish than he ever had... and he loved it. He didn’t know how long it would last. Maybe forever. He hoped forever. But changed or not, he'd enjoy every minute of it.

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