The Observer                  by C. Sprite    © 1999

 

Prologue

A man and a woman are in the wrong spot at the right time. Switched into each other's body by an alien visitor from another part of the galaxy, they are fated to remain that way for one year. Or possibly more?

 

Chapter 1

"For crying out loud, will you give it a break? I’m not happy about it either," I yelled at the woman sitting next to me in the car.

"If you hadn’t turned onto this damn road, we’d be back at the motel by now, instead of driving around in the damn woods", she yelled back.

I said quietly, "Do I have to remind you that we BOTH agreed to try this road after looking at the map?" That shut her up, finally. God, how I had begun to despise this bitch.

My name is Pete Hotaling. Peter Alan Hotaling, if you want the whole thing, and I’m an Associate Publisher for McCarthy Publishing Inc. The fancy title means that I negotiate to buy the rights to publish books and stories. It sounds better than Publisher’s Agent does. The woman beside me in the car is Kara Swenson. She holds the title of Senior Editor with the McCarthy.

Why are driving around rural Arkansas, at night, in a torrential rainstorm, with lightning and thunder crashing all around us, you ask? Put simply, we are looking for the home of a reclusive writer who has written a great new story, but has so far delayed signing a contract with our company. Our boss has sent us on this mission to wrap up the deal. I have done this alone for years, and was upset that I had been ordered to drag along this miserable excuse for a woman. My boss said that she would be helpful in consummating the deal, since the writer was known to have an eye for the ladies. I thought to myself that he would have to be one desperate son-of-a-bitch to be attracted to Swenson.

As I drove along in the worsening weather, I glanced over at Swenson. She could be attractive if she tried. She could get rid of those ugly eyeglasses and get contacts, or at least get a better eyeglass frame. And those shoulder-pads had to go. They were out of fashion now anyway. The ones that she was wearing rivaled those of the kicker on my college football team. I estimated that she was about 5 foot, 4 inches tall and about 23 or 24 years old. Her long blond hair was tied into a bun. A bun, for Christ’s sake. And this was definitely the first time that I had ever seen her wearing a skirt. I didn’t think that she owned one because around the company’s offices, I had only seen her wearing slacks or jeans. Her legs weren’t too bad. Neither was the body. Too bad her personality sucked.

She hadn’t stopped complaining and whining since we had left New York City. She complained all the way down on the aircraft about the crummy cab driver, slow ticket agents, poor seats, lousy food, dumb flight attendants, etc, etc. etc. When we picked up the car that the company had rented for us, she started in again about choice of car, small trunk, uncomfortable seat belts, etc, etc, etc. Before beginning our hunt for Buck Marshall’s log cabin, we stopped at the motel to put our bags in our room. Once back in the car, she started complaining about her motel room. She said the bed was uncomfortable and she would never be able to sleep. She complained that there was no tub in her room, only a shower stall. Etc, etc, etc. I was nearing the end of my patience, so when she started in about the road that we had mutually agreed to try, I put up with it for as long as I could, then yelled at the top of my lungs. My eruption lasted for just one sentence, but I felt better immediately. I had wanted to do that for the last hour. Instead of being intimidated, she had yelled right back at me. My quiet statement about our predicament being half her fault had finally shut her up.

And it really was a predicament. We had been driving on this road for over forty-five minutes. I estimated that we must have driven at least ten miles. We had not seen another vehicle, human, or even a dwelling since we turned onto this road. I didn’t think that it was possible to drive this long without seeing something. About a hundred feet in from the highway, the paved road had turned to gravel. Then after a mile, the gravel road had turned to dirt. We decided to turn around at the next crossroad or driveway, but had not encountered either. The rain was coming down in buckets, so I didn’t want to risk trying to turn around without sufficient room. I feared that we might get stuck. And forget backing up all the way to the highway, it was way too far, and in the darkness, it would be impossible, so we had just kept driving. The woods on either side of the narrow road had long ago closed in. The potholes were getting worse and I was getting nervous. The road had stated to resemble a footpath more than a road. But I didn’t want to convey my fears to Swenson.

Kara Swenson had leaned back into her chair after Peter Hotaling had yelled at her. She had tried to engage him in conversation ever since they had left New York City. He had said almost nothing until his sudden outburst a few minutes ago. It had completely taken her aback, and in response she had yelled back at him. She knew that their predicament wasn’t his fault. She was just unhappy about going on this trip. She didn’t understand why her boss had insisted on it. Was he trying to fix her up with Hotaling? It was true that Hotaling was tall, dark, and handsome. He stood about 6 foot, 6 inches tall, and had black wavy hair. He looked to be about 35 years old and obviously spent a lot of time working on his body and his tan. But he had bedded almost every unmarried woman at McCarthy Publishing, and possibly a few married ones, and she was not about to be added to that long list. Besides, she preferred female companionship, although she had never announced it to anyone at work.

"This isn’t looking too good", I said to Swenson. Suddenly a flash of lightning and crack of thunder occurred almost simultaneously. The lightning hit a tree alongside the road and it began falling into the path of the car. I hit the brakes and swerved the car to the right, away from the falling tree, and the car ended up in a ditch as the tree fell across the hood and shattered the windshield. Our seatbelts saved us from injury, but the car was immobile with the tree resting on it, even though it didn’t appear too badly damaged to use. I asked Swenson if she was OK. She said that she hadn’t been injured, although she was still a bit shaken up from the near miss of the tree. The windshield had collapsed onto the dashboard, and the rain was blowing into the car now and we were getting soaked.

We had two options. Stay where we were, or try to get help. After a quick discussion, we opted for the latter. It might be days, or even weeks before anyone came down this isolated road. Looking for my cellular phone, I remembered that I had left it in my suitcase so it was now dry and safe in my motel room. How I wish that I was there also. Swenson said that she had seen something that looked like a house not too long ago. She had only caught a glimpse during a lightning flash, but we decided to see if we could find it. Even if it was deserted, it might offer us some shelter from the storm. I found a flashlight in the emergency kit in the trunk and we set off down the road.

When we reached the point where she thought that she had seen the house, we left the road and walked through the bushes and undergrowth. The terrain climbed gently upwards and I began to feel sorry for Swenson. She was wearing a skirt and heels, and it could not be pleasant for her. Every once in a while, she would let out a small string of curse words. Although I was a little better dressed for this kind of traveling, I was none-the-less cold, wet, and miserable. After about twenty minutes of climbing, we found the ‘house’, but it turned out to be a small, rectangular rocky outcropping. Our hopes of shelter disappeared in a heartbeat. As we were about to turn and return to the road, my flashlight played across an opening in the outcropping. I investigated the opening to see if it might be a cave, and to my delight, the opening was too deep for my flashlight to reach a back wall. We walked slowly inside, with me in the lead. My flashlight showed a cavern disappearing down into the blackness. As soon as we were inside, we felt better. Just being out of the driving rain was an improvement. I explored a little further in to see if there was any dried wood or tinder that we could use to light a fire. Swenson had grabbed ahold of my suit-jacket with both hands and followed me. She was holding my coat on each side, near my waist, so she wasn’t more than a foot behind me as I walked.

After walking about a hundred feet, I came to the conclusion that we were not going to find anything burnable, so I decided to return to the cave entrance. As I turned, a flash of lightning illuminated the mouth of the cave and movement at the entrance froze me in my tracks. During the flash, I had seen a large black bear entering the cave. I turned again and resumed my walk away from the cave entrance. I didn’t say anything to Swenson because I didn’t want her to cry out. I walked as quickly as I could without appearing to be rushing. I heard noises behind me but couldn't ascertain if they came from Swenson or the bear. I was afraid to stop, so I kept leading us further in. Several times I had come to places where the cave split, and I had selected whichever path seemed to offer the easiest walk. After we had traveled for about 15 minutes, I stopped. Swenson walked into my back since I hadn’t signaled any intention to halting. I pried her hands off of my coat and found that she was trembling. I knew immediately that she had seen the bear also. As I turned to face her, she wrapped her arms around me and held on for all she was worth. My intense dislike for her began to lessen as I was exposed to this view of vulnerability. I didn’t hear any noise from the way that we had come, so I guessed that it was all right to stand here until she got her nerves under control. I tried to soothe her by putting up a brave front. The truth was that I was plenty scared also.

After several minutes, Swenson stopped trembling a little, and we resumed our walk. At this point I was hoping that we could find another way out. We spent the next two hours picking our way through the cavern. We had been walking down a promising looking passage when we suddenly came to a solid wall. I was about to retrace our steps when I spotted writing on the wall. As it turned out, it wasn’t writing, but rather symbols that had been cut into the stone.

I couldn’t relate them to anything that I had ever seen. I traced them with my finger hoping to get a clue to their origin. They may indicate a way out of the cavern. Without warning, we were bathed in a bluish-white light that shone down from the cavern roof. We were completely immobilized and the only thing that I could move was my eyeballs. I could see that Swenson was similarly frozen. As we stood there, the wall in front of us abruptly rose upwards and revealed a lined tunnel entrance. An old man, wearing a robe, walked towards us slowly. As he stood in front of us, he examined us closely. He never uttered a word, but memories of my life started flashing through my mind. I saw myself, from the present, back to my days as a toddler. As I reached my earliest recollections, the blue light stopped and the cavern went black, and I realized that I was sinking into the black void of unconsciousness.

 

 

Chapter 2                Day 1

I awoke with the sun in my eyes. I was sitting in the car wearing the seatbelt. I thought, ‘Oh, thank God. It was all a dream.’ Then I realized that the windshield was missing and the car was severely damaged. I could see a busy highway about a hundred feet in front of us, but we were still on the side road. I became aware that I was sitting in the passenger seat and turned towards the driver’s side about the same time that I heard a man scream. But it was not like any scream that I had ever heard from a man. My eyes widened in horror as I realized that I was doing the screaming. I was looking at my body and watching it scream. I closed my eyes. Was I having an out-of-body experience? No, I didn’t feel dead, although I did feel very strange. I opened my eyes again. Yes, there was my body, sitting next to me. Now I was really afraid, and shut my eyes again. I was afraid to move, afraid to talk, and afraid to look at myself.

I heard a voice say, "Peter?"

I opened my eyes and looked at my body. I had recognized my voice from having heard it as I played back dictation notes over the years. The voice that others hear is never the same as what you hear in your head. I said, "Yes", and immediately put my hand to my throat. The voice that I heard emanate from my mouth was very high pitched, like a woman’s. I pulled my hand away from my throat and looked at it. It was a woman’s hand, and the nails had polish on them. I reached up and turned the rear view mirror towards me. As I adjusted it to face me, I saw Swenson’s face in the mirror. I shut my eyes again. No, this wasn’t happening. I was still in the cavern. The old man had done something to my mind. I jumped as somebody pinched my leg, hard. I opened my eyes and saw my body just withdrawing my, or rather, its hand.

My body said, "Peter, look at me. It’s Kara."

I shook my head, refusing to acknowledge that fact, but knowing deep down inside that it was true. I finally looked at my body and said, "What happened?"

"That old man did something to us. Somehow, he made me look like you, and made you look like me."

"That’s not possible."

"You explain it then", my body said.

I couldn’t. I said, "I can’t explain it yet. I think that we have been hypnotized someway and are still in the cavern."

"We’re not in the cavern any longer. Look, there’s the highway ahead. What’s this on the dashboard?" I watched as my body reached out its arm and picked up something that looked like a large marble. "It says, ‘His.’ Look, there’s one in front of you also."

I saw Kara’s hand reach out and pick it up as I controlled its movement. I said, in my new, weird voice, "It says, ‘Hers.’ Here, this must be for you." I turned to hand it to her when it suddenly started to vibrate. Before I could return it to the dashboard, it rose out of my hand. At the same time, the other one rose from my body’s hand. The two marbles joined and formed one much larger sphere. Then it dissolved into an image that filled the area formerly occupied by the windshield. It was like watching a movie screen. The old man from the cave was on the screen talking to us.

He said, "Good morning, my children. I hope that you are feeling better today. I am the ‘Observer’. That is my role here rather than my real name but it should suffice for a name. Millennia ago, my people came to this planet from our home in a distant galaxy. We found your world teaming with life, but none contained the intelligence required to shape its destiny. My people ‘seeded’ this planet with our own DNA as a way of perpetuating our species, and spreading our influence throughout the universe. For the past five hundred years we have maintained an outpost here to observe the development of our ‘children’. You have been the first to find our station in this part of the world. In probing your minds, I discovered that your finding us was purely accidental. We have moved our station while you have slept, so that no one will be able to find us there again. This is for your protection as well as ours.

Now on to your current situation. In probing your minds, we discovered how unhappy both of you were. Kara was so dissatisfied with her gender. She felt that it was responsible for her lack of success in life. She felt that men were holding her back because they were jealous of her talents. Peter felt alone and isolated. He used women in his search for fulfillment, hopping from one bed to the next in an attempt to find love and happiness, but never really finding either. We felt that a change might be just what you both need. To repay you for the three days that we had to keep you with us until our station was moved, we have transplanted your consciousness into each other’s body. Normally we don’t get involved, but this seemed like a perfect solution to both of your needs. Certain fundamental subconscious memories concerning the maintenance and care of your new bodies, as well as automatic behavior patterns, have been left intact in each of you. These will help you adjust to living as a different gender. We hope that you will be happier with your new identities, but should you wish to be returned to your former selves, we will accommodate you. In one year’s time, return to this spot. You will have a seven-day ‘window’ during which time we shall look for you. If only one of you wishes to switch back, then both of you must do so. But it is only necessary that one of you show up here to accomplish that. We will do the rest. Goodbye my children, and good luck with your new lives."

The image dissolved, along with any trace of the marbles, or sphere. My former body and I looked at one another, our mouths agape. We were to be trapped like this for a full year.

My body said to me, "Well Kara, it looks like we shall have to wait a year to get back to normal."

I said, "Don’t call me that. My name is Peter, regardless of how I look at the moment."

"Listen to yourself, and look in the mirror. If you go around telling people that you are Peter Hotaling, they’ll have you in the loony bin within a day. I, for one, don’t intend to spend my future in a rubber room. For the next year, ‘I’ am Peter Hotaling and ‘you’ are Kara Jeanette Swenson. Get used to it or I’ll have you committed myself, you crazy bitch."

I sat and stared at her, or rather I sat and stared at my former body. I realized that she was right. People who went around telling such crazy tales usually wound up in the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Ward. I would have to go along or be judged ‘crazy’. Especially since she would act as witness against me. I said meekly, "OK… Peter."

My body grinned evilly at me and said, "Now you’re being smart. Let’s get back to our motel. I need a bath, and a meal. I’m starving." ‘Peter’ started the car and we drove down the road to the highway. As we rode back to the motel, I started to think about what my life would be like for the next year. I would have to live as a female. Worse yet, I would have to live as Kara Swenson. I knew that she was not well liked in the office. She strutted around the building, lording over the few employees in her charge, bullying them into submission with threats of dismissal. I had never seen her in the company of a single person outside of business duties. Following business meetings, as other people paired up to talk as we returned to our offices, she always walked back alone. At night, She would always leave the building alone, as well. It appeared that nobody wanted to share her companionship. Friends, on the other hand, always surrounded me. I spent a lot of time cultivating those friendships. I could now look forward to long lonely days while I was stuck in this body. And when we were finally changed back, would she have alienated every friend that I had? This was definitely a lose-lose situation for me. My life was ruined. I felt like crying.

Crying? Why did I feel like crying? That was not something that I ever did. Not since I was a child. Little boys are always taught to suppress their emotions and must never cry. Their parents are always telling them, "Don’t cry Peter, big boys don’t cry. Big boys don’t let little things like a cut knee make them cry. Now dry your tears or everybody will think that you are a sissy." Little girls, on the other hand, are hugged and comforted. They are told, "That’s OK honey, it’s not a bad cut. Here, I’ll kiss it and make it better. There now, doesn’t that feel better." Never a word about hiding their feelings. So I must feel like crying because of Kara’s subconscious memories. Oh no, this was going to be difficult. It would be a struggle between my conscious and subconscious until we could get switched back. I settled down with my thoughts and tried to make sense of all this as ‘Peter’ drove.

‘Peter was also lost in thought. ‘He’ looked on this as an opportunity to learn what it would be like to be ‘Peter Hotaling’. He might even be able to write a best seller after they were switched back. He had no regrets about being in this new body. He felt strong and powerful. Peter was well liked at the company. He would have instant friendship when they got back. He didn’t fear that Kara could do any damage to her life or reputation. There was nothing there to damage. This was beginning to look like a win-win situation. ‘Peter’ even began to work on titles for her new book.

As we drove into the parking lot of ‘Cleary’s Motel’, the manager ‘hurried’ over as quickly as his old legs could carry him. "I’m sure glad to see you folks are back. We were beginning to worry. Your company has been calling every hour for the past two days. They want you to call them immediately." Looking at the car, he added, "Did you folks get into an accident?"

Peter said, "Yes. A tree fell on top of us as we negotiated one of your wonderful roads. Don’t you people believe in filling pot-holes, and paving?"

I said, "I’m sorry for Peter’s outburst Mr. Cleary. We’ve been stuck in the woods for three days. We’re a bit tired and edgy. Thank you for delivering the message. We’ll call them as soon as we have a chance to clean up. If they call again, please relay that to them."

"I understand. I’d be upset too. We have some pretty remote areas down here compared to New York City." He turned and walked back to the office.

I just sat there in the car. I couldn’t will myself to get out. Peter got out and starting walking towards ‘his’ room. Then he turned and looked at me. He came over to my side of the car and opened my door. "Come on. Get your fat, lazy ass out of there. We have a lot to do, and a lot to discuss." He extended his hand to me.

I took it and swung my legs out without thinking. Then when I was on my feet, I realized what I had done. It must be the subconscious mind thing that the ‘Observer’ had talked about. I never would have exited a car like that as ‘Peter’. When we reached my room ‘Peter’ reached into his pocket and extracted his key. He unlocked his door and walked in. I started to follow, until he held up his hand. "Go to your own room, stupid. I have to bathe and think a bit. Be back over here in two hours."

His abrupt remarks brought me out of my daze. "Where’s my key, Kara?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, you’re Kara, you dumb bitch. Look in your purse. I saw it on the floor of the car." Then he slammed the door in my face.

I walked back to the car and retrieved the purse. I opened it and found the key, then went to ‘my’ room. Once I was inside, I kicked off my shoes and sat on the bed to think. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. The tears began to roll down my cheeks. In seconds, I was bawling like a baby. My life was ruined. Why had the ‘Observer’ done this to me?

I cried like that for maybe five minutes. When I was able to control my emotions again, I got up and washed my face. I looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. The face that stared back at me looked small and frightened. Well, that much was accurate. How was I ever going to survive for a year in this body?

I removed my clothes. They were pretty much ruined from the trek through the woods, but I hung them up anyway. I got in the shower and ran it as hot as I could stand. I had showered with women many times over the years but this was a unique experience. As I scrubbed up for the first time in days, I began to feel better. I shampooed my hair twice and used a packet of conditioner that I found in the bathroom. When I stepped from the shower, I felt clean, if not relaxed. I toweled off and powered my new body. I went out into the bedroom and opened the suitcase. A hodgepodge of clothing was crammed into the suitcase. Kara appeared to be a bit of a slob. I found a bra and panties and put them on. Putting on the bra was more difficult than I could have imagined. I had never had a problem with them before, but that was taking them off of women, not putting one on myself. Why didn't my automatic conditioning help me here? Maybe because I was concentrating too hard on it. I relaxed and thought about something else and my hands managed the hooks on the first try. I took the rest of the things out and spread them out on the bed. I found two pairs of slacks, a skirt, three blouses, a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a robe. After putting on the robe and hanging the other articles in the closet, I separated the underwear and other items. I found a blow dryer and finished drying my hair. When I was through, I examined my new ‘shell’. Kara was pretty and had a lot of potential. She was a bit out of shape, but the shape wasn’t bad. If I had to go through this, I could have done a lot worse. A whole lot worse.

Suddenly, somebody was pounding on the door. I asked who it was and heard my old voice tell me to open up right away. When I unlocked the door, Peter barged in.

"Mr. Jacobs is on the phone. I told the manager to hold him a minute and then put him through to here. What do we tell him?"

"Tell him the same thing that we told the manager. We had an accident and it took us three days to get back. That’s the truth after all."

The phone rang and Peter picked it up. I heard him tell the manager to put the call through.

Mr. Jacobs said, "Peter, what the hell is happening down there. I saw Bill Wilson from Wilson & Wilson at lunch and he said that Buck Marshall was going to sign with them. He expected to have the contracts in a couple of days. What does Marshall want to stay with us?"

Peter said, "We haven’t been able to talk with him yet. We had a car accident the day that we arrived. While we were searching for his house, a tree fell on our car. It took us until now to get back. We spent the last three days in the woods down here."

"Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. You probably spent the last three days shagging that broad that we sent with you. Now get out bed and get over to Marshall’s house pronto. We’re counting on you to get that book contract, boy. Don’t let us down. Call me back as soon as you see Marshall, and I want to hear some good news. Now get going, son." He rang off.

Peter turned to me and said, "He said that we have to get over to Marshall’s right away. Marshall is going to sign with Wilson & Wilson. What are we going to do?"

"Simple, you’ll have to talk Marshall into signing with us."

"I’ve never done this before. I don’t know where to start. Help me, please."

"You’re asking for help from a ‘dumb bitch’. I should just sit here on my ‘lazy, fat ass’ and wait for you to screw up the deal."

"Please, Kara, help me. I’ll call you Peter if you want. If we don’t get this book deal, we’ll both be in trouble."

"I’m already in trouble. I’m stuck in your body with little to look forward to over the next year."

"In a year you’ll have your body back. You need this deal to help your career. By helping me, you’ll be helping yourself."

She had me there. Maybe I could use this to steer my career while she occupied my body. "OK. I’ll do it. You go talk to the manager while I get ready. Get exact directions to Marshall’s house. Tell him about that road that we went down. It can’t be the one on the map that we were following."

Peter left and I hurried to get ready. I quickly put on a pair of pantyhose that I found in the suitcase. I hated the things. Didn’t she have any stockings? I found a full slip, and put on one of her blouses and the skirt that I had found with the slacks. I put on a pair of black heels with a small strap, and I looked at myself in the mirror. So far so good. I found Kara’s makeup bag and started on my face. The subconscious memories allowed me to make up my face without thinking about it. Thank God that the ‘Observer’ had left me those memories. I brushed and combed my hair into passable shape, then checked myself in the mirror. Not too bad, I thought. I grabbed my purse and went to Peter’s room. He was just coming out, having shaved and showered, and was wearing my new pin-stripped suit. His face had a number of nicks covered with little pieces of toilet paper. I said, "Welcome to the wonderful world of facial hair" and he scowled in response.

When we got to the car, he held the passenger door open for me. I was surprised by his suddenly chivalrous manner. I also was surprised to be escorted to the passenger side. I always drove until now. I had to remind myself of my change in status. Peter closed the door after I got in, and went around to the driver’s side. He handed me the directions to Marshall’s house so that I could act as navigator. As we left the motel parking lot, the missing windshield started to play havoc with my hair. I told Peter to slow down as much as possible so that we looked presentable when we got there.

Peter informed me that the manager had been very surprised when he learned where we had gotten stuck. He had said that we were lucky to have gotten out by ourselves. Nobody would be using that road until hunting season opened in two months. The road that we should have used is the next one after the one that we took. The one that we took is not on the map. That explained our error.

In the clear, daytime weather, we were able to find Marshall’s home within twenty minutes. It was one of the log cabin replicas that had been so popular 20 years ago. When we knocked on the door, a portly, middle-aged man answered. I recognized him from the pictures on his book jackets, but that picture must have been taken twenty years ago. I introduced Peter and myself.

He said, "I’m sorry. I was expecting you people three days ago. When you didn’t show, I signed with Wilson & Wilson."

Peter groaned and turned to leave.

I said, "Mr. Marshall, I’m terribly sorry that we were not here as we had expected. Three days ago, we turned onto the wrong road while searching for your house. I believe that the road is called Grave’s End. Anyway, it was during that terrible storm. We were unable to turn around after we had started down that road and drove about 10 miles before having a tree fall on our car. We spent the last 3 days in the woods, trying to get back here. We only got out about 2 hours ago. You can see the damage to the car yourself."

He looked at car from where we were standing in his doorway. "My Lord, you people are lucky to be alive. Please come in, I’ll make some fresh coffee. I want to hear all about your ordeal." He showed us to the living room and left to put on a pot of coffee. As we waited, I formulated a story about our ‘survival’. I knew that a writer can never resist a good ‘yarn’ and I had told him about our problem figuring that he would invite us in to tell him about it.

For the next hour, I related our fictional experience for Marshall. My years in the publishing business and especially my years of dealing with writers served me well. I managed to spin a convincing tale. He all but ignored Peter, to Peter’s relief. When I was done, I said, "So tell me Buck, may I call you Buck?" He nodded. "Thank you. Please call me Kara. Tell me Buck, how long ago did you send the contracts to Wilson & Wilson?"

"I haven’t actually sent them yet. I signed them this morning but the FedEx guy hasn’t arrived yet to pick them up."

"Since you haven’t sent them yet, then you aren’t really obligated. Would you allow us to talk to you about our proposal? I mean, we have been your publisher for many years." I smiled as pleasantly as I could.

"I don’t think that would be right. I told them that I intended to sign with them."

"Well, it can’t hurt to talk about it. If I can show you why it would be in your best interest to sign with us, would you entertain that idea at all? It could mean a great deal of money to you?" I smiled again.

He didn’t answer right away so I gestured to Peter to give me the contracts. "Could you get a copy of the contracts that Wilson & Wilson sent to you. I’d like you to compare the offers." Over the next two hours we went over the contracts point by point. When the FedEx guy came, Marshall sent him away without the contracts. I showed him how much better our offer was. Wilson & Wilson were offering more up front money, but we were offering a bigger percentage from the sales. I explained that we all felt that his new book would make the best seller list. We were so excited about it that we had traveled down here to visit him, unlike Wilson & Wilson who had not left New York City. If your book does as well as expected, you could earn an extra hundred thousand dollars above what Wilson & Wilson would be paying you. Even if it doesn’t, you will still make as much, if not more, with our deal." That clinched it.

He went and retrieved the FedEx package, and cut it in half with a pair of scissors. Then he signed our contracts.

I said, "I’m sorry that we didn’t bring along a bottle of champagne to celebrate with. I like to offer a toast to one of the next books on the best seller list."

"Give me just a moment. I may have some." He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with three glasses and a bottle in record time. He was clearly excited. He popped the plastic ‘cork’ and poured three drinks. We stood as I proposed a toast to the new novel, and then drank the wine. After several glasses, I was starting to feel dizzy. I don’t know how long it was since I had eaten, and I had forgotten that this new body was not able to take liquor like my former self. Peter suggested that we should leave.

I tried to rise, but couldn’t get my legs under me. Buck helped me up and groped me while he was doing so. I was so drunk that it didn’t register. He invited me to stay, but Peter interceded and said that after the ordeal of the last three days, we really needed to get some rest.

Seeing the disappointment on his face, I mumbled, "Perhaps another time Buck." He brightened considerably.

At the door, I extended my hand to him. Instead, he grabbed me and kissed me while groping me again. Peter helped me to the car. I was surprised at the strength of my former body. I had never felt it from this side before.

As we drove back to the motel, Peter said, "That was very well done. You’re good. I can see why they sent you down here. I still don’t understand why I’m here, or rather, why I was here as Kara."

"Didn’t you see the way that Buck was looking at your former body. I doubt that I could have convinced him as quickly if I was still Peter. He was hoping to get me in the sack. You noticed how fast he got that bottle of champagne?"

"Yeah. He set a new, world record in the refrigerator sprint event. Your telling me that you used my body to wrap the deal."

"To close a major deal, I always use whatever I have. That’s the name of the game. You don’t get any silver medals for being second best in this business. Second best go home losers."

"Would you have gone to bed with him to get him to sign?", Peter asked.

"He wouldn’t be the first client that I slept with. I’ve never slept with a man though. Usually, I just arrange for a professional’s services for the night."

"You've hired prostitutes?"

"Sure, why not? Working girls have to make a living too."

"I think it’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. You men are all alike. You’re all pigs."

"Well, that’s an encouraging statement", I said.

"What do you mean, ‘encouraging statement’. You like being called a pig?"

"I meant that when I get my body back, I won’t be plagued with snickers behind my back from co-workers who suspect that I am gay. As a man-hater, you won’t be dating men."

Peter scowled, but said nothing.

When we arrived back at the motel, he helped me into the room. I couldn’t believe how drunk I was. I said, "I normally have three martinis for lunch. All I had was three small glasses of wine. I guess that you don’t drink much?"

"Just sparkling water, or a little fruit juice." Peter sat me on the bed. I never would have made it on my own. He began to remove my clothes.

"Hey. Did I say that you could do that?"

"Shut up. I’ve been looking at this body, naked, for twenty-four years.’

When I was fully undressed, he laid me on the bed. Then he went over and sat in the chair and called the office. When Mr. Jacobs was on the line he said, "Mr. Jacobs, Peter Hotaling here. I just wanted to let you know that we have wrapped things up down here… Yes, Marshall signed with us… Yes, we have all the signed contracts in our possession… Yes, I couldn’t have done it without her… No, we’re going to stay over a day or two. We really were stuck in the woods for three days. We’re going to sleep until we’re fully rested…OK, I’ll tell her. See you when we get back." He rang off at that point. "Mr. Jacobs told me to congratulate you for assisting me with the contracts."

"Wonderful. Now I’m the assistant."

"Don’t forget, You’ll have the credit when we change back."

"Yeah, I was forgetting. Write it off to being drunk. Is the room spinning, or only just the bed?"

"Just the bed. The room’s fine."

"Very funny…." I drifted off into sleep.

 

 

Chapter 3            Day 2

I awoke the next morning, feeling awful. My mouth felt like an old pair of soiled gym socks, and my head was throbbing. I staggered, with my eyes only half open, to the toilet. I lifted the lid and reached for my penis. Grabbing only open air, I panicked before realizing that the body switch had not been a bad dream. I put the seat back down and sat to pee. God, how humiliating. That I was reduced to this. Me. Peter Alan Hotaling, star quarterback of my college team. The man that had been on a one-man quest to win the heart of every woman in New York. Now I was one of them. A woman.

I finished peeing and stood to wash my hands and face. I looked closely at the face that stared back at me from the mirror. This was only the second day. How was I going to last for another 364 more. I decided that if I spent every day feeling sorry for myself, I would either go crazy, or commit suicide before the year was up. So I determined that I would accept my fate and move on. I brushed my teeth to get the awful taste from my mouth, then I showered, and shampooed my hair. I saw that stubble was appearing on my legs, so I shaved them and my armpits. Feeling much better, I dressed, putting on the pair of comfortable looking jeans and a T-shirt. I brushed my hair and applied some basic makeup. When I was finished, I stood in front of the mirror and approved of what I saw. When I got back to New York City, I would join a health club and start getting this body into shape. Leaving the room, I stopped in the motel’s office to inquire about local eating-places. I felt like I hadn’t eaten in a week, and that probably wasn’t too far from the truth.

Mr. Cleary, the manager and owner, suggested several good places to eat, and I went to see if Peter was up. I knocked on his door several times before he opened it. He looked terrible. He told me that he had partied all night and needed some more sleep. Looking past him, I saw that he had company. I hoped that he was being careful with my body, but I didn’t say anything. Apparently, he was ‘off’ sparkling water and fruit juice. At least the unfermented kind. I decided to walk to a nearby restaurant for breakfast by myself, so I got my purse and started off.

About halfway there, a car full of teenage boys pulled up next to me and they asked if I wanted a ride. I told them that I was just out for my morning walk, and no thank you. As I walked, they drove slowly along side me, getting more crude and vulgar as we progressed down the road. Finally I just stopped responding to them at all, ignored them and continued walking. This infuriated them, and one of them jumped out when the car stopped. Now I will admit to being afraid of big, black bears, but an acne-faced teenager does not frighten me regardless of how big he is. When he put his hand on me, I spun on my heel and kicked him in his manhood with all my strength. He screamed and dropped to the ground. I quickly took several steps backward and assumed a self-defense position. The other teens piled out of the car and picked up their friend, but after looking at me they apparently decided to find easier pickings, got back into their car and sped off. Peter’s year of karate classes had finally come in handy and I got to the restaurant without any further encounters. After a filling breakfast of flapjacks, with sausages, I leisurely returned to the motel, selected a lounge chair next to the pool, and sat down to enjoy the sun.

About an hour later, Peter came out of his room, with his guest. They climbed into the rented car and left. He was back, alone, in 15 minutes. Following him into his room, I asked him if he was ready to return to New York City. He said that he was so I called the airline and booked two tickets. We packed, paid the motel bill, and drove to the airport. At the car rental agency, I smiled as Peter tried to explain what had happened to the car. Fortunately, I had bought ALL of the insurance options, and there was nothing that the clerk could do but verify that we had returned the car. On the plane, we discussed our situation. I would go to live as Kara, while she would live as Peter. I briefed Peter about my life, and he briefed me about his/hers. He would have the more difficult time since I couldn’t begin to list my friends and acquaintances. We shared a cab to our homes from Kennedy Airport. Peter dropped me off in Brooklyn, then proceeded to my former residence in Manhattan.

As I climbed the steps to the large four-story brownstone, I did a quick appraisal of the building. My apartment was on the first floor, about 8 feet up from street level. I wondered if there was a tenant in the basement. My apartment was spacious and I spent the rest of the day exploring every nook and cranny. Kara wasn’t much of a housekeeper and I found myself organizing as I looked at everything. By the time that I was done, I had filled three garbage bags with trash. I then made notes of all the messages on the answering machine so that I could discuss them with Peter. I started to open the mail, and was surprised to learn that Kara owned this building. She had a hefty mortgage payment due with the bank each month, but the rents that she collected from two tenants easily covered that. I found that she had a sizable nest egg in the bank and a small portfolio of quality stocks. Things were looking up. She would not have any problems in my former identity either. I owned the condo in mid-town outright. Her only expense would be monthly commons charges. My salary was considerably more than hers was so she would be comfortable until we can switch back.

After cleaning and organizing the apartment, I decided to check out her clothes closet. My own was fully stocked with quality suits and clothes. I hoped that she had a decent wardrobe. I was disappointed as soon as I opened the doors. Apparently, personal appearance didn’t rank very high on her list of priorities. A look through the dresser drawers reveled the same fact. I had spent a great deal of time in women’s bedrooms over the years, so I knew what the closet of a well-dressed woman looked like. It appeared that I would have some shopping to do. Since tomorrow was Friday, I would take one more day off from work and start accumulating a better wardrobe. As I walked around the apartment, something didn’t feel right. The layout of the apartment seemed wrong. I sat down on the bed and looked around the room, then I walked around all of the rooms again. There appeared to be area that was not accessible. At least there was no visible door. I spent the next hour trying to figure out what could be in that area. It wasn’t an air shaft or elevator shaft. I finally discovered a hidden door at the back of a closet.

When I figured out how to open it, I found another bedroom. And what a bedroom. A large four poster bed with eyebolts in each post occupied the center of the room. Dresser drawers opened to reveal bondage restraints, and related paraphernalia & sex toys. A closet full of sexy clothing, mostly in leather, along with a selection of whips and paddles, occupied one wall. This was a side to Kara that I had not suspected. I wondered if she was a ‘dominant’ or a ‘submissive’. I found a couple of leather outfits that I liked, and took them to my bedroom after sealing the ‘hidden’ bedroom again. Both outfits could be used as regular clothing. I had begun to feel tired, so I readied myself for bed. I started to plan tomorrow’s activities and drifted off to sleep. I knew that I had a lot to learn about being a woman.

 

 

Chapter 4              Day 3

After calling into work to inform them of my absence, I went shopping. First stop was at a hairdresser. Appointments were normally required, but several cancellations allowed me to be taken immediately. I asked for a total makeover and told the hair stylist what I wanted, then left myself in her hands. When she was done, I looked like a different person, which is exactly what I wanted to achieve. Kara’s natural beauty was now being emphasized instead of hidden. I had carefully watched as makeup was applied, so that I would be able to do it as well. After leaving the salon, I went to several fashionable clothing stores and purchased several outfits, along with a good supply of lingerie. A stop at a shoe store added six pair of new shoes to my packages. Finally, I finished up at a sports shop where I purchased two pair of quality running shoes and several sets of ‘sweats’, socks, and headbands. With my arms full, I took a cab home and put everything away. I checked the telephone directory and was very pleased to find several workout centers within walking distance, so I went out again and visited each, finally selecting the one that appealed most to me.

As a former ‘jock’, I couldn’t wait to begin training, so I had brought along one of the new sweat sets. I went to the locker room and changed. I removed the makeup and scrubbed my face before starting my workout. I spent the next two hours pushing my new body to its limits. When I was done, I was exhausted but happy. Except for the breasts, which did not lend themselves to a physical workout, I was very satisfied with Kara’s body. The eleven years difference between our ages showed me how much stamina I had lost as Peter.

Although my original body was in excellent physical condition, the youth of this body made it every bit as resilient. I showered, dressed, and returned home.

As I climbed the steps in front of my house, a young, pretty woman greeted me at the top. Thinking that she might be one of my tenants, I smiled at her. As I reached the top step she threw her arms around me and gave me a passionate kiss. She stepped back and said, "Darling, welcome home. How was your trip? Was it too awful having to travel with that old man from your office?"

I was surprised to say the least. ‘Darling?’ ‘Old man?’ I said, "No, Peter was wonderful. I learned so much from him about contract negotiations."

"Well, lets go inside. You can tell me all about it. I love your hair. And your new outfit. What’s going on?"

I opened the door and led the way in. As soon as I put down my gym bag, she was all over me. I was still thinking like a man, and when an attractive young woman throws herself at you, you respond. She knew Kara’s body well and was pushing all the right buttons. In ten minutes, I was panting for breath and trembling with anticipation. She took my hand and led me to the ‘secret’ bedroom. Once inside, she took me to the bed and shoved me down. She started to undress me. When I tried to help, she slapped my hands away. She went to the dresser and returned with some leather restraints. After locking my hands to the top bed posts using the leather cuffs and short lengths of chain, she attached my legs to the bottom posts in a similar manner. I was now spread-eagled on the bed. She locked a wide leather collar around my neck, then began a seductive strip show in front of me. When she was naked, she came over to the bed and began to lick me from head to toe. Then she turned around and sat on my face. She said, "Eat me, darling." As I began to lick, suck and nibble on her clit she bent over and did the same for me. We reached orgasm at almost the same time. After several minutes of lying on top of me, she got up and went to the dresser. She returned with a blindfold, which she put on me and buckled on the side of my head. I began to ask her why, but as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, she popped a ball gag into it, and buckled that as well. I tried to push it out of my mouth with my tongue, but couldn’t move it. Then I felt her insert something in my pussy. She put some kind of a belt on me and ran a wide strap from the back of it, up through my legs and pulled it tight when fastening it on the front of the belt. I heard the ‘snick’ of a lock closing. I felt her bend over me and kiss me on the cheek. She said, "Good night, my love. Sleep well…. when you can." I heard her leave the room and close the hidden door. I thought that she must have been kidding so I lay quiet for what seemed like ten minutes. Then I began to realize that she was serious. She intended to leave me like this. I started to make as much noise as I could, but I knew that the sound wasn’t carrying more than a few feet.

I was just drifting off to sleep when the thing that she had put inside me came to life. It vibrated for I don’t know how long, but I was aroused and headed for a climax when it shut off. I wanted it back on. I mewled through my gag thinking that maybe the mystery girl had come back into the room while I was ‘occupied’ with other thoughts. But the room was totally quiet. I had just calmed down and drifted into sleep when the thing came alive again. For the rest of the night, that was the pattern.

I woke up when I felt the belt being removed. My ‘lover’ said, "Good morning, my love. I’ll just remove this and let you get a few more hours sleep. It’s 7 AM. I’ll wake you at noon. Sleep well." She kissed me and left again. I was exhausted and fell asleep immediately. A few minutes later she was waking me up and telling me that it was noon and time to get up. She detached my wrists from the bedposts and removed the restraints from my ankles. Before helping me up, she attached my wrists together. I was very stiff from having slept like that all night so she helped me to the bathroom. She stood and watched as I relieved myself. She briefly unlocked the cuffs so that I could wipe myself. She removed the blindfold and mixed the water in the shower to the right temperature. She pushed me into the shower spray and attached my wrists to the showerhead. She removed her robe and got into the shower with me. As I stood there, she washed both of our bodies, and shampooed and conditioned our hair. When we were washed, she toweled us dry and powered us. Then she put panties and bra on me, and dried my hair with a blow dryer. Except for the restraints, I was beginning to enjoy the care that I was receiving.

She brushed my hair and then led me back to the secret bedroom. I didn’t want to be restrained again, but I let her lead me there because I was hoping that she would make love to me as she had last night. I had learned quite a bit about her because she had talked as she cleaned me. I was still gagged so I couldn’t say a thing. I knew that her name was Carol and that she and Kara had been ‘close’ friends for at least a year. Once inside the bedroom, she led me to the closet and took a corset out. She wrapped it around me and attached it in the front. Then she stepped behind me and started to close it. When she had closed it as far as she could, and I could barely breathe, she tied it off. She unlocked my wrists and removed the leather restraints. I rubbed the area that they had covered while she dressed me in a floor length black slip, and then a floor length black leather sheath dress. When she closed the rear zipper, I saw that it would never have closed if I had not been wearing the corset. She put black leather gloves on my hands, then put the leather cuffs back on my wrists. She locked my wrists behind my back and led me to the bed. After pushing me down, she retrieved a pair of black boots from the closet and laced them onto my legs after raising the side zipper on my dress all the way to my hips. The boots came up to about 6 inches above my knees. When they were laced up, she put the leather cuffs back on my ankles, and locked them together. Then she pulled the side zipper down. This time she closed it all the way to the bottom, where before it had only been closed to my upper thighs. When it was fully closed, the cuffs on my ankles were redundant. There was no way that I could walk anywhere. The dress held my legs together like they were tied that way. The heels on the boots were at least 6 inches and were surely not designed for walking. I was fully encased in leather from neck to toes.

Once again I was fully helpless on the bed. She reached behind me and removed the ball gag. My jaw was so sore when she removed it that I couldn’t even talk. She took a toothbrush and brushed my teeth having me spit in a small basin. Then she had me rinse my mouth with mouthwash. She gave me some fruit juice to drink. I didn’t believe how parched my throat was. I said, "Please don’t put that thing back in."

"Please don’t put that thing back in, MISTRESS"

"Please don’t put that thing back in, Mistress"

"That’s better. OK, I have something different for you anyway."

She reached behind me on the bed and put a piece of leather over my face. As she adjusted it I saw that it was a hood. She laced it up the back, pulling it tight and molding it to my face as she went. It forced my mouth to be held firmly closed, but it was better than the gag. When she was done, she went to the closet and donned a leather cat suit like the one that Catwoman wore in the Batman movie. When she was dressed, she came back to me and clipped a leash on my collar. She unlocked the leather cuffs on my ankles so that I could walk, and raised the side zipper to my calves. Then pulling me up from the bed by pulling on the leash, she led me out of the room. I was afraid that she was going to take me outside, but instead we only went to the living room. I could barely walk in the six-inch heels, but somehow I made it with out falling. She sat me in a straight-backed chair facing the couch and re-locked my ankles and pulled the zipper back down. Using other lengths of chain that she had brought, she firmly secured me to the chair. Then she put the blindfold back over my eyes. I had a picture of myself sitting there without a bit of flesh showing, just black leather. I couldn’t talk and could barely move. I decided that this wasn’t worth the great sex that I had experienced and resolved to change this relationship as soon as I was able. I wondered if Carol was ever the one to be subjugated.

It was early evening when Carol removed my blindfold. She unlocked me from the living-room chair and re-secured me in a dining room chair. As I watched, she enjoyed a leisurely evening meal. When she had finished, and had her desert, she relaxed and sat there talking to me. I was dying to eat something. Anything. Even a bread stick. But I had no choice but to sit there and suffer.

Finally, she came over to me after retrieving a dish of food from the kitchen. She removed the hood from my head and proceeded to feed me after putting the blindfold on me. It was the best meal that I ever had. Being hungry really makes you appreciate food. I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, and I appreciated every morsel. Carol was really enjoying my helplessness. The corset kept me from eating too much. When I was full, Carol put the hood back on me and then the blindfold. She left me sitting there until bedtime. I heard her cleaning the table and washing the dishes.

Carol watched the evening news and then ‘Saturday Night Live’. When that was over, well after midnight, she unchained me from the dining room chair and led me to the bedroom. I stumbled along as she tugged on my collar and leash. I was still wearing the blindfold and hood, so I was literally blind and mute. She chained my leash to the headboard of the bed and unzipped my dress up to my hip. After pulling my panties down, she worked her way between my legs and began to arouse my passion. All the misery of the day began to melt away as Carol worked on my clit. I began to moan in my hood as she expertly used her mouth to bring me to climax. When I reached the top, my body shuddered for a few seconds, and then all my muscles relaxed as I sank back down onto the bed. Carol reinserted the vibrator from last night and locked my ankles together before zipping my dress down to the bottom. She chained my ankles to the footboard and took up the slack on my leash. She kissed me and wished me goodnight as she had done last night. I heard her leave the room and close the door before the vibrator swung into action. She must have changed the timer on the vibrator because it stayed on longer this time. I managed to orgasm so many times during the night that I lost count.

In the morning, Carol came in, as she did yesterday, and removed the vibrator. She then reattached me to the bed, and she left, letting me sleep until after noon. When she woke me up again, she took me into the bathroom to let me relieve myself, and get cleaned up. She removed my clothes and chained me to the showerhead. Although I had resolved to get my freedom, I was so sore that I couldn’t offer much resistance, especially while wearing the hood and blindfold. She washed me and dressed me. All the time I was wearing the hood and blindfold. She cuffed me hands in front of me at least. I was laced into boots again but they were only knee length, and my dress was only down to my knees as well. But it was so tight that my legs were held tightly together. She led me through the apartment and I felt her secure my ankles to the floor somehow. My legs were spread as far as my dress allowed. She took hold of my hands and forced my arms over my head. She attached something to my wrists and when she let go I could not drop them down. A few seconds later, she started to winch my arms up. She raised them up until they felt as though they would be pulled from their sockets. Being secured to the floor, I felt like I was being stretched on a rack. I started screaming as loud as the hood allowed, and she relaxed the winch a little. She left me hanging there for the rest of the afternoon.

As the sun was going down, she released me and removed the hood. My arms hurt so much that all I could do was cry. Carol cradled me in her arms as I cried. As I cried she started crying with me. She sobbed, "Oh Mistress, I’m so sorry. I followed your orders exactly. I thought that the suspension might be too much for you since this was your first time, but that is what you told me to do. You wanted to experience the life that I love. Please, Mistress. I deserve to be punished for hurting you. Please punish me."

As she spoke I began to understand Kara and this situation a bit better. She was really the dominant. And she had asked Carol to let her experience life as a bondage submissive. Carol had tortured me because that’s what Kara had asked her to do. Kara dressed as she did at work because of her lifestyle. She didn’t want any attention from male co-workers. And her attitude towards the employees that she supervised must be the result of her ‘dominant’ personality. That’s why her co-workers called her ‘Der Kommandant’ behind her back. She must have laughed all weekend for not having warned me about this pre-arranged adventure.

I said, "Slave Carol, how do you feel that you should be punished?"

"Oh Mistress, I think that you should chain this slave up as she did you last night. But you should paddle her ten, no, twenty times before you plug in the vibrator and leave her for the night."

"You feel that that is sufficient for what you put me through this weekend?"

"This slave will accept whatever punishment you feel is right. She was only suggesting one possibility."

"Very well, go start getting ready. I’ll join you in a minute."

She carefully extracted herself from me and ran excitedly to the ‘secret’ bedroom. I joined her, and laced her into a corset. My arms were aching as I pulled the laces and tied them off when I felt that I could pull no more. I dressed her in full slip and the same black leather sheath dress that I had worn. We were almost the same size. I noticed that she had cleaned everything. She had also changed the bed linens. I laced the thigh-high boots on her legs and fastened the leather cuffs on her arms and ankles, then locked the wrist cuffs behind her back. I steered her to the bed and sat her down. As she watched, I stripped off all my clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. I took the paddle that she had taken from the closet and positioned her over my naked legs. I pulled her hands out of the way, and started to administer the punishment. She jumped with the first few hits then started to calm down and moan. Only a sharp intake of breath were proof that she felt the last several. Having administered the twenty hits that she had wanted, I positioned her on the bed and mounted her face. I had come to love the way that she serviced me with her tongue. As she worked on me, I serviced her. Once again we reached climax at almost the same time. I gushed all over her face and she licked it up as best she could, and also cleaned me while I cleaned her. Then I inserted the vibrator device and locked her ankles together. I pulled down her slip and dress and tugged the zipper all the way to the bottom. I attached the chain from her ankles to the footboard and put a collar around her neck. Before I chained her collar to the headboard, I laced the hood onto her head and put the blindfold on her. Just before I had put the hood on her, she said, "I love you Mistress." I told her that I love my little slave, and then I finished readying her for her night of bondage.

As I picked up the clothes that I had dumped on the floor, the vibrator came alive for the first time. I watched in fascination as Carol’s body stiffened and convulsed as the vibrator worked its magic. I hung the clothes in the closet and went to take a shower. The hot water pelting my body was the magic that I needed just then. When I was finished, I toweled off and went to bed. Within minutes I was fast asleep. I’m sure that Carol did not have such a restful night, but it was after all, her choice.

 

 

Chapter 5        Day 6

I had set the alarm for 6 AM and arose as soon as it sounded. I hurried to check on Carol. She was bucking and convulsing as I entered. The vibrator was humming away. I waited until she had peaked and then unplugged the insidious little device. I unlocked her chains and cuffs and began to strip her clothes off. When I removed the hood, she smiled up at me and said, "Good morning Mistress. Wasn’t it a wonderful night."

I chuckled to myself at how much she really loved this stuff. No wonder that Kara had wanted to try it. She wanted to know what she was missing. Not much from my point of view, although the sex had been great. I slapped her on the bottom and said that I had to take a shower and get ready for work. She jumped up and came with me. We showered together, but I had to stop her from getting too playful. After all, today was a workday.

After we were finished and had dried off, Carol returned to bed to get some sleep. I dressed in some of the new clothes that I had purchased on Friday. I hated pantyhose so I had purchased several garter belts and a dozen pair of stockings. I put on a white satin blouse and gray business suit. The three-inch heels gave me a little of my former height but still left me 11 inches shorter. I used the techniques that I had learned at the salon and my makeup turned out very good. I brushed my hair and it fell back into place from the perm. I stood in front of the mirror and examined myself. To my way of thinking, Kara had never looked this hot at the office before. At lunchtime I was going to see if I could get contacts. I grabbed my gym bag and purse and hurried out the door. I intended to stop at the gym on the way home. I hurried to the ‘El’ two blocks ago and arrived on the platform just as a train pulled in. I arrived at the office 30 minutes early because I had been unsure of the train schedules. As I walked to my office I greeted everybody by name. I received a lot of surprised looks and even got a few responses. Kara never greeted anybody, so it would take a while for people to get used to her having talked to them.

As I entered my office area, I saw that my assistant had just arrived at her desk. I greeted her and asked how her weekend was. She looked at me like I was from Mars. I stood next to her and made small talk for a few minutes before I walked to my desk to put my purse and gym bag down. My assistant complimented my new hairdo and suit. I thanked her and complimented her dress. In ten minutes we were chatting like old friends. We walked together to the lunchroom to get a cup of tea. People stared at us as we walked. I pretended to ignore it, but secretly I loved it. I wondered if they were staring at my new look or the fact that I was in the company of another person. It didn’t matter. I knew that by noon, I would be the topic of every gossip conversation in the office. We returned to our office and began our day’s work.

At 9 o’clock I received a call from Mr. Jacobs. He congratulated me on our success in Arkansas this past week. He said that he had spoken to Buck Marshall over the weekend and Marshall had told him that I was the one who convinced him to sign with the company. He said that the company was grateful and that they would see that I was suitably rewarded. I was smiling as I hung up the phone. Maybe things would not be as bad as I had originally thought. I still had to be concerned about Peter’s behavior, but life as Kara was looking up.

At lunchtime I found one of those 60-minute optical centers and got a pair of contact lenses. I put the glasses in my purse to save for an emergency and wore the contacts from then on. I picked up a pretzel on my way back to the office since I hadn’t had time for lunch. As I entered the office, I greeted everybody I met and this time I received reciprocal greetings. The rest of the afternoon flew by as I acquainted myself with Kara’s workload. On the way home, I stopped off at the gym and had a 2-hour workout.

When I arrived home, Carol was there to greet me. She kissed me passionately as soon as I was inside the door. I had not been able to reach Peter all day, so I was unsure of a lot of details that I should know. I didn’t want to come out and ask Carol the questions that I had. I needed to know if she lived with me or had her own place, was there any firm commitment between us, and how long had we had this relationship?

Carol said, "Mistress, I’m so happy that you’re home. You’re awfully late and I was worried about you."

"I stopped off at the Gym for a workout. I was becoming concerned that I was getting out of shape. I’ll probably stop after work most evenings so this will be my new normal time for returning home."

"I’m just glad that you’re safe. I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. Come in and sit down, I made dinner for us."

We sat and ate dinner by candlelight. She had gone all out. During dinner she confided to me that last night had been the best night that she had ever had. I told her that I was happy that had enjoyed the night. After dinner, she cleaned the table and washed the dishes. When I tried to help, she refused to let me do anything, so I went to the bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and T-shirt. When I came back out, Carol was upset.

"Oh Mistress, I was hoping that we could pick up where we left off last night."

"Aren’t you exhausted? I know that I am."

"No, I’m ready to go again. I told you how glorious it was."

"What punishment do you think would be fitting tonight?"

She told me, and after she was done cleaning up, we went to the ‘secret’ bedroom to carry out the sentence. I cuffed her to the four corners of the bed and gagged her. Then I administered twenty lashes with a whip that she had selected. After I was done, I removed the gag, mounted her face, and she serviced me as I did her. I had to admit that I enjoyed this much more than Peter had ever enjoyed being serviced orally. There were certain advantages to being a woman after all. When both Carol and I had climaxed, I reattached the gag, added a blindfold, and set up the vibrator, with the chastity belt to insure that it could not fall out. I kissed Carol, and left the bedroom. I went to my bedroom and sat down to read some manuscripts that I had brought home.

The remainder of the week went pretty much the same. On Friday, Peter stopped by my office. He said that he had been on the West Coast handling some contract work. The lessons that he had learned in Arkansas had served him well. He had successfully concluded all the jobs that he had been sent on so far. I was pleased that he was maintaining my good record.

Peter said, "Kara, you look great. I guess that you’ve been spending some of my money."

"No, I’ve been spending Kara’s money, not Peter’s."

"You know what I mean."

"I’m sure that you’ve been spending Peter’s money as well. And I wanted to tell you how much I appreciated your failing to tell me about Carol and your planned weekend."

He laughed. "I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. I thought that you might enjoy it. There was only one way to tell."

"How long have you known Carol, and is there any commitment between you?"

"We’ve been seeing each other for about 2 years. The only commitment is on her part. I‘ve been very careful to avoid making any promises. She's wanted to move in with me, but I've made her maintain her own apartment. Please don’t commit me, I mean, please don’t commit Kara to anything more."

"Have you considered that we may be stuck this way permanently?"

"I thought that you wanted to switch back", he said.

"That’s not what I’m saying. We may be unable to switch."

"If only one of us wants out, the Observer will switch us back. He promised."

"And you believe him?"

"You don’t?"

I said, "I’ve had a lot of time to think about things this weekend." He laughed. "I’ve thought over everything that the Observer said. He said that he was repaying us for holding us for 3 days while they moved their ‘station’. That had to be so that we could not report the ‘contact’ until after their ‘station’ was moved. Perhaps their switching us was another way of insuring that we did not talk to the authorities. After all, there is no physical proof of a switch. People would think us crazy if we told. The promise of a return to our bodies would keep us quiet for an entire year. After that, natural erosions and new plant growth would have eradicated any trace of their moving the ‘station’. What happens if we go back there in a year and find that they are not waiting for us as they said?"

"You’re right. I hadn’t thought that all out, as you have done. What do you suggest that we do?", he asked.

"There’s not much that can be done. Our medical science has not progressed far enough to even offer any hope of a switch without the Observer’s assistance. We could go back to Arkansas, but even if we were to find him, there’s no guarantee that he would switch us. And I’m sure that we couldn’t force him. We had a taste of his technology with that Paralysis beam that held us rigid. No, the only thing to do is wait out the year, and trust that his word is good. I just wanted to make sure that you were prepared in case we can’t get back."

"What do you mean ‘prepared’?"

"Don’t burn your bridges behind you. Don’t start thinking that you can do anything that you want to because you won’t be occupying that body in a year. Any babies that you make, or any paternity suits may be yours to live with for the rest of your life. You have to be concerned about sexually transmitted diseases, and financial matters, as if you were always going to be Peter Hotaling."

"You’re right. I’m glad that we talked. I have been living fast and loose the past week. That changes now. Beginning today, I start believing that I am Peter permanently. If we are able to switch back, then neither of us will have any regrets about the other. And if we can’t switch back, then neither of us will feel that we squandered our lives or resources on a promise. Thank you Kara, you’re are smart as you are beautiful."

"I see that you’re starting to practice the art of flattery."

"Being Peter for the past week and a half has really opened my eyes. I know that it hasn’t been very long but I’ve had a chance to see life from your perspective. Nobody is out there handing things to men any more then to women. Peter has earned everything that he has. I’ve lost a lot of the resentment that I had. I think that I’m a better person for it and will be a better Kara if, and when we switch back. In the mean time, I’m going to work hard to make you proud of me. I can see the improvement in Kara’s image. Everybody is talking about how much you’ve changed for the better. The higher ups are even considering promotions for you. I see now that the only one holding Kara back, was Kara."

"I’m glad that you’ve exorcised some of your inner demons, they’re always the toughest to fight. Why don’t you invite me out to dinner and we can talk some more. Right now, I have a lot of work to get done before the weekend starts."

"OK, how about tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at 7 PM."

"It’s a date. See you then. You know where I live."

He gave me a weird sort of smirking smile and left, as I returned to work.

 

 

Chapter 6       Day 11

On Saturday, I spent several hours at the workout center. Afterwards, I went shopping and purchased a new dress for my date with Peter. In less than two weeks, I had embraced my new life as a woman. Peter has told me that at the end of next week, I could expect to menstruate. That is the scariest thing that I have yet faced. I am dreading the start of the new week. Carol was upset that I was going out with Peter. So before Peter arrived, I chained her to her bed in the ‘secret’ bedroom. She was dressed, as she had been last weekend, with a corset and the leather sheath dress. The vibrator was in place but I hadn’t plugged it in yet. She was wearing the hood and blindfold. In addition, she had requested that a hard rubber ball be put into her mouth before the hood was laced on.

When Peter arrived I plugged in the vibrator. As I finished getting ready, he stood and watched Carol respond to the device. I thought that I saw a certain longing in his eyes. He was in love with Carol, but she wouldn’t be interested in him with his present form. We left for the restaurant while Carol enjoyed the company of her mechanical lover.

The restaurant that Peter had selected was excellent. The food was wonderful and the atmosphere was charming. After our meal, we went to a club to do a little dancing. I was glad that I had begun to workout. When we left the club, I invited Peter back to the apartment for some coffee. As Kara, he hadn’t drank coffee, but as Peter he had acquired the habit.

We checked in on Carol as soon as we arrived. She was just reaching climax as we opened the door. We watched until she stopped shaking and relaxed back down on the bed, before going to the kitchen.

Peter said, "Carol is as insatiable as ever. I see that you’ve cleaned up the place. It looks good. I was surprised at how clean Peter’s apartment was when I moved in. Maybe you should have been born a woman."

"Being one sex or another has nothing to do with it. But sex has everything to do with it. I learned early on that a messy apartment repulsed most women. I kept it spotless so that it wasn’t a turn-off for my dates. It seemed to work. Anyway, I just got in the habit and can’t live in a mess now. Cleaning this place was one of the first things that I did when I moved in. I have Carol clean each day now. We have concentrated on one area each day for intensive work, and maintenance cleaning in the rest of the apartment. Over the past week, she has done a marvelous job. If she doesn’t do a perfect job, I won’t have sex with her that night, or allow her to use the vibrator. She is highly motivated to excel at her assigned duties.

The coffee was ready so we carried the pot, cups, and other essentials to the dining room. I couldn’t believe that this was the same person that I had shared a plane ride with just two weeks ago. Peter’s conversation was very upbeat and amusing. I couldn’t help but wonder a little bit if it was because he was talking to a woman rather than a man. We were surprised when the chime signaled that it was 2 AM. Peter got up to leave, and as we walked to the door, he suddenly took me in his arms and kissed me passionately. I surrendered to his kisses and he picked be up and carried me to my bed. Over the next two hours we made love as only two people who had been switched, could. I knew every little thing that would excite him, and he knew my body’s weaknesses as well. We fell asleep after peaking three times together. It was a very odd experience to make love to the image that you have been looking at in the mirror for more than thirty years. Kind of like making love to a twin, even though you are no longer twins.

I awoke in the morning lying next to Peter. I felt strange. I tried to rub my eyes and found that my hands were cuffed behind my back. My ankles were cuffed also. Apparently his disposition towards bondage was still with him. I called softly to him and his eyes opened. When I asked him to release me, he sat up in the bed, placed a ball gag in my mouth and buckled it behind my head. Carrying me to Carol’s bedroom, he unplugged her vibrator, and pushed her to one side in order to make room for me next to her. Then he chained me to the bed as well, and he announced that he needed more sleep and would return later.

Around noontime, he came in and freed us partially. Locking a collar around each of our necks, he attached us together with a two-foot piece of chain. He tied our hands behind us and took us to the bathroom. Starting with me, he let us use the toilet, and he wiped each of us as we finished. Then he stripped, and pulled us into the shower with him. Carol and I were both gagged, and naked except for the collars and ropes on our wrists. I calmly allowed him to wash me, but Carol was scared and trembling. I tried to comfort her as best I could. My efforts succeeded somewhat as she soon stopped trembling and yielded to his efforts to clean her. When we were clean and dry. He led us back to Carol’s bedroom and dressed us in corsets and leather. Then using copious amounts of nylon rope he tied us together. He placed us on the floor of the living room and went out to get a paper. While he was gone, we tried our best to get loose, but were unsuccessful. When he returned he sat on the sofa as he read the paper, and then he napped afterwards.

We just sat on the floor, completely helpless for the rest of the afternoon. Peter awoke from his nap as the sun went down. I had developed a cramp in one of my legs and was in pain. Peter untied me, and after removing my gag and waiting while I worked out the cramp and worked my jaw muscles, he kissed me passionately and thanked me for a wonderful weekend. Before leaving, he planted a kiss on Carol’s cheek and thanked her also.

After he was gone, I untied Carol and helped her work out the cramps.

She said, "Mistress, are you OK?"

"Yes, I’m fine. How about you?"

"Slave Carol is OK. But she was really scared. She thought that he might hurt us. I hate men."

"Peter’s not so bad. I’m sure that he would never have hurt us. He just enjoys dominating people. He’s been into the bondage scene in a big way. He was just reminiscing by tying us up. He doesn’t do it much any more. No harm done. I thought that you’d enjoy it?"

"Slave Carol probably would have if she hadn’t been so scared."

"Oh my poor baby. I tried to console you in the shower and tell you that there was nothing to fear. I guess that you didn’t get my message. Come on. Let’s take a shower and then you can make us some dinner. I’m starving."

"Yes, Mistress."

 

 

Chapter 7         Day 17

Friday started off like a normal day. Everybody at the office greeted me as I entered now. They all thought that the change in me was remarkable. I now always enjoyed a cup of tea with my assistant before work started. In two weeks I had managed to re-establish good working relationships with the people around me, although it would take time to make them friends. They didn’t appear to fear or despise me any more. I had continued to expand Kara’s wardrobe, and wore a skirt or dress every day. Several of the single men in the office had begun to stop by my desk during the day on one pretext or another. So far, I had refused all offers of dinner. I told them that I was very busy right now and asked them to please ask me again in the future, but not for the next month. I wanted some time to think things over. So far the only man that I had slept with was Peter. I was a woman in every way except in my mind.

I still harbored some idea that dating and/or having sex with men was wrong. If it hadn’t been for Carol getting me started with sex after chaining me to her bed, I would probably still be celibate. Her expert attention to Kara’s clit had opened the floodgates, so to speak.

At 10 AM, I was summoned to Mr. Jacobs’s office. As Executive Vice-President, Mr. Jacobs handled most of the day to day business of the company and I was escorted into his office as soon as I entered the outer office suite. Mr. Jacobs was there with Mr. Goldfarb, the company attorney, and Mr. Blumond, the Vice-President of Sales. All three men stood and smiled as I entered. I returned their smiles and sat down where Mr. Jacobs indicated. All three men also sat down.

Mr. Jacobs offered me something to drink, and asked his secretary to bring me a cup of tea when I stated my preference. As soon as she had left to get it, he said, "Miss Swenson, Buck Marshall told me last week that you were primarily responsible for convincing him to reject Wilson & Wilson and sign with us. Normally, publishing companies don’t try to raid other companies stable of regular writers. The reason is that things would quickly turn to chaos if we started a war like that. But Wilson & Wilson made an overt move to sign Marshall away from us. We can’t let that attempt go unpunished or they’ll start doing it again thinking that they can get away with it without risk."

He stopped as his secretary brought in my tea and I added milk and honey. He continued after she had gone.

"We have learned that Charles MacFarland has written a new novel. He is still working on it and has not signed contracts with Wilson & Wilson yet. We intend to try to sign MacFarland. He is one of Wilson & Wilson’s top authors. We sent Peter Hotaling to see him but MacFarland chased him off saying that he is happy with Wilson & Wilson. When I say chased off, I mean it. He fired a gun at Hotaling.

"Peter’s OK, isn’t he? I asked.

"Oh yes. MacFarland just fired over his head. But he threatened to lower the gun barrel if Peter came back. That’s where you come in. We want you to go up there and see MacFarland."

"You want me to get shot?"

"No, of course not. We feel that you can go where a man cannot. MacFarland considers himself a ladies man. He will probably allow you to visit him. We feel that it’s worth a try. Are you game?"

"I hope you don’t mean that like in that old joke."

"What old joke?"

I said, "You know. A hunter of certain ethnic origin is out hunting. He comes across a ‘lady of the evening’ and asks her if she’s game. When she says "yes", he shoots her."

The three men laughed.

Mr. Jacobs said, "That’s funny, but no relation to this case. We would like you to leave right away. We booked a ticket at LaGuardia, and we have a car waiting to take you home to pack a bag, then it will take you to the airport. If you bring back the bacon on this one, we’ll see that you get a place at the table. Good luck."

I stood and he patted me on the back as he steered me towards the door. Just like old times when I was Peter Hotaling. I hurried to my office and grabbed my purse and coat. When I got outside, the car and driver were waiting in front of the building. It took me to my home where I had ten minutes to pack a bag. Carol was disappointed that I would be away for the weekend, but I told her that I would take some time off when I returned. An hour later I was flying west on my way to Minnesota.

Peter met me at the airport and drove us to the motel where he had booked rooms. After I settled in, we sat at the table in my room and planned our strategy. We decided that if MacFarland saw Peter, then the game would be over before it began. Peter gave me a map, plus some personal directions and I set off for MacFarland’s house. I could only drive as far as his locked front gate, so I parked and walked up to the house. I knocked on the door and it was opened by an angry looking man with a gun in his hand. I was startled and stepped back. When he saw that the threat was only a small blonde woman, the glaring expression on his face eased and slowly changed to a sheepish smile. He put the gun down started to apologize.

"I’m sorry Miss. I thought that you were someone else."

"Someone that you intended to shoot?"

"No, just someone that I wanted to scare. Let me apologize again. You are…"

"An admirer, Mr. MacFarland."

"Why thank you, Miss. But I don’t entertain fans at home."

"Where do you entertain them then?"

"I don’t entertain them at all."

"That not what I heard from my friend Sylvia." Peter had given me the name of a former girlfriend of MacFarland and I had put on my most knock-em-dead dress.

"Sylvia…?"

"Yes. Sylvia Gracck. She said that you’d remember her.

"Of course I remember her. We dated for two years. Would you like to come in Miss…?"

"Swenson. I thought that you’d never ask, Mr. MacFarland"

"Please, call me Chuck."

"Thank you, and you must call me Kara."

"Kara. That’s a lovely name."

"Thank you, Chuck."

He led the way to the living room and invited me to sit down. So far so good, I thought.

"Would you like something to drink, Kara?"

"Yes, Chuck. What do you have?"

"I have Scotch, Gin, Vodka, and some Chablis wine."

"I would love some wine, Chuck"

"Be right back, Kara. Make yourself at home."

As he left to get the drinks, I started to look around the living room. I spied his "I Love Me" wall and went to look at his diplomas, awards, and memorabilia. He came back and joined me. Then he started to point out different items and tell me about them. I let him talk about himself for several hours. As it started to get late, he invited me to stay for dinner. I agreed if I could help, so he led the way to the kitchen and we prepared a chicken. I made the salad and some StoveTop Stuffing as he prepared some Green Giant vegetables. When the food was done we sat down to eat, and talk some more. Several times he tried to find out something about me, but I always steered the conversation right back to him. We cleaned the table and washed the dishes together, then sat down to have coffee.

He said, "Kara, several times I’ve tried to learn a little about you but you always change the conversation. Now I insist that you tell me something about you."

"OK, I’m a Virgo, and I like small animals."

"Come on, give. You know enough about me to write a book."

"OK, Chuck. The truth is, I’m a spy."

"A spy? And what are you trying to learn on your current assignment."

"I’ve been sent to find out when you will finish your next book."

"Were you sent by my fan club?" he said smiling.

"No. I was sent by McCarthy Publishing."

His face turned serious. "I see."

"I hope that you’re not too angry. I’ve had a wonderful time with you here today."

"I’m not angry. I’ve had a wonderful time talking to you also. My current novel is almost complete, but I always sign with Wilson & Wilson. I would not be interested in switching."

"Why is that, Chuck? Relatives at Wilson & Wilson?"

"No, no relatives."

"Old army buddies, lovers, friends?"

"No, I just believe in being loyal. I’m been with them for years. They published my last eight books. Ever since I was an unknown."

"How many of your books did they refuse before they published one?"

"I submitted 4 books that were rejected. I have to admit that they were pretty bad. But I learned from having written them. I’ve gotten better."

"And from what I’ve read, you are still continuing to grow and improve. So Wilson & Wilson has treated you in a business like manner, and you feel loyalty for being treated like a customer that they make a very healthy profit from?"

"It doesn’t sound very good when you say it like that."

"But is it an accurate statement?"

"Yes. It is," he said thoughtfully.

"How long did it take Wilson & Wilson to sweeten the deal?"

"What do you mean ‘sweeten the deal’?"

"Well known authors who sell lots of books are less of a risk to publishers, so they get better deals. It shows that the publishers respect the author’s abilities and appreciate their hard work."

"Wilson & Wilson has never changed our original deal."

"Oh my God, you’re kidding. They still pay you at the same rate as when you started?"

"Yes. I thought that it was standard in the industry. That’s what Bill Wilson told me."

I started to laugh, then stifled it. "I’m sorry, Chuck. I can’t believe that Bill Wilson is still using that old ploy. Well, I always said that he was a hell of a salesman. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody that he pulled that one on you."

He was turning red with rage, but I knew that the rage was not directed at me. "You’re telling me that they’ve been playing me for a sucker all these years while I’ve been loyal to them?"

"Fraid so, Chuck. At least it appears that way. Do you have your last contract available?"

He went to get it while I got our contracts from my purse. When he came back we looked over his last contract. I took a piece of paper and wrote down the numbers that he told me, which represented the number of books sold from his last eight novels. When I was done calculating, I said, "By my estimate, my company’s standard agreement with established authors would have resulted in your receiving an additional Hundred and Eighty Five Thousand Dollars. Bill Wilson must be laughing all the way to the bank. Here’s a copy of the contract that my company is offering. You can see the differences. Sales of your books have been increasing with each new story, but if you sell only the same amount as last time, you will receive an additional Sixty Thousand Dollars, approximately. If your numbers increase along the same lines as before, you should get about an additional Seventy Five Thousand Dollars over what Wilson & Wilson will pay you."

Chuck just sat and looked at me. "They’ve been taking advantage of my loyalty. They knew that I chased other publisher’s agents away. I’ve told them the stories myself. God, I feel so foolish. Kara, thank you for opening my eyes. You’re really a special woman."

He stood up and came over to me. He lifted me to my feet and kissed me. I knew that he was really close to signing with me and I wanted those contracts, so I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I wanted him to sign before he confronted Wilson & Wilson, and they had an opportunity to make a counter offer. After several minutes I disengaged and sat down. He returned to his seat and we both took a drink before continuing.

I said, "So tell me Chuck. Are you in the market for a new publisher?"

He took my company’s contracts from the table and signed them. "I can’t wait to tell Bill Wilson."

"Chuck, do want some revenge for them playing you for a sucker?"

"Love some. What do you suggest?"

"On Monday morning call Bill Wilson. Tell him that you have learned that he has taken advantage of you. Tell him that you estimate that he owes you One Hundred and Eighty Five Thousand Dollars for past book royalties that you should have received if they were being honest. Tell him that you are nearing completion of your new book and that you think that it is the best that you’ve ever written. Tell him that you want a certified check for the money that he owes you, in your hands by Wednesday, and you want a new, re-written contract for the new book, for you to review. Tell him that otherwise you will start to interview new publishers. For our part, we won’t say a thing about your signing with us for a week."

"I love it, Kara. I’ll do it. And if he comes through, I owe you."

"I’m just glad that we can get you what you deserve. Publishers like Wilson & Wilson give a bad name to all publishing companies." I put the signed contracts in my purse. Chuck came over to me to help me up. He put his arms around me again and kissed me.

He said, "Thank you for all you’ve done for me. Can you stay with me tonight?"

I said, "I’m sorry. I can’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because it’s my time of the month. You’re an attractive man and I’m drawn to you, but Mother Nature prevents me from doing anything, with anybody, right now. Give me a rain check, OK darling?"

"Of course. I understand. Next trip, come at a different time of the month."

"You can count on it."

He walked me to the car and we kissed again. I was still having problems kissing men, but I was coming around. I kept telling myself that I was a young, healthy woman now and must behave that way. I couldn’t let the configuration of my former body prevent me from having an active sex life with this one. After all, we only go around once in this life.

I got back to the motel and knocked on Peter’s door. Receiving no answer, I went to bed. I hadn’t been kidding about it being my time. I was feeling nauseous, achy and bloated. I went to bed wishing for this time to pass as quickly as possible.

 

 

Chapter 8       Day 18

After rising and enjoying a long, hot bath the next morning, I dressed and went to see if Peter was up. He answered the door right away and had a surprised look on his face.

He said, "Kara, I’m surprised to see you. When you didn’t come back by 9 o’clock, I thought that you would probably spend the night."

"Have you forgotten the date."

"What do you mean? … Oh, yeah. I did forget. So tell me, how did you make out? Is he going to sign with us? Did you make any inroads at all? There's no shame with having failed on this one. He’s one tough customer. Wouldn’t even speak to me about changing from Wilson & Wilson. Come on, tell me."

"How can I tell you anything if you won’t give me a chance. On second thought, I’ll tell you everything over breakfast. I’m starving and you’re buying. Are you ready?"

"Be right out. I just have to comb my hair and grab my jacket."

In a few minutes he was ready, and he held the car door open for me. As he walked around to the driver’s side, I reached over and unlocked it for him. In ten minutes we were in an IHOP restaurant, and had ordered breakfast. I had selected a booth far from any other patrons. As we waited I gave him a step by step description of my encounter with Chuck MacFarland. As I reached the part about our making dinner together, the waitress brought us our food, and I stopped talking. After she had finished bringing us our order and left, I continued. I told him about reviewing the old contracts, and about how Wilson & Wilson had short-changed one of their prized authors. I told him that when MacFarland learned, he grew red with rage and signed with us on the spot. Then I told him about MacFarland’s planned ruse to exact some just revenge and Peter smiled with pleasure. I told him that we must not say anything to anybody about Chuck signing with us for a full week. If we did, then we would lose him as an author on future books.

Peter said, "I’ll let you handle that. I won’t say a word to anybody, and if anybody asks, I’ll refer him or her to you. What about Mr. Jacobs though?"

"I’ll tell Mr. Jacobs when I see him in person. Not before. I don’t want to risk anybody overhearing this. And I want him to understand the importance of keeping quiet about it until the end of next week. That’s going to be hard. I know that he is going to want to gloat about it with Bill Wilson. If Mr. Jacobs asks you before I see him, just tell him that we have made some progress and it looks promising. Warn him not to say anything to Wilson that would jeopardize our efforts here."

We finished breakfast and returned to the motel to book our plane tickets, and then we returned to New York.

Peter dropped me off on his way to Manhattan. Actually, it was quite a ways out of his trip from LaGuardia Airport, which is in Flushing Meadows, but I think that he was hoping that I would invite him in. I told him that I still wasn’t feeling well, and we could get together another time. Carol was cleaning as I entered the apartment. She ran to greet me as I came in. We embraced and kissed. She wanted to drag me to bed right then, but I told her that I wasn’t feeling well and she would have to wait until tomorrow. She settled for me telling her about my trip. She made a face when I told her that I had been with Peter, until I clarified that being with him did not mean that I had been WITH him. She smiled as the meaning sunk in. After I finished relating my tale she took my suitcase to my bedroom and unpacked it, putting my soiled clothes in the hamper. She helped me undress so that I could lie down for a quick nap, and she returned to her cleaning duties. The apartment had begun to sparkle from her efforts. I would have to do something special to reward her for her efforts. Maybe she would like to be suspended from the winch arrangement while I ate her out. I would surreptitiously try to find out if that would appeal to her.

 

 

Chapter 9        Day 20

On Monday morning, I called Mr. Jacobs secretary to ask for an appointment and she said to come right up because he was most anxious to see me. When I arrived, I was escorted in immediately. I saw that Mr. Goldfarb, the company attorney, and Mr. Blumond, the Vice-President of Sales, were both there again. Mr. Jacobs asked if I wanted something to drink, and when I said tea, he buzzed his secretary. Then he said, "You didn’t stay very long in Minnesota and I haven’t been able to reach Peter. I tried Saturday afternoon and found that you had left already. Did MacFarland shoot at you too?"

"No, he didn’t shoot at me. He did greet me with a gun in his hands though. What I am about to tell you must remain confidential for a full week. Do I have your word on that? All of you?"

Mr. Jacobs said, "I don’t like to promise things without knowing what I am promising."

"You’re simply promising that what I tell you now will remain in confidence until next Monday. It is not illegal, or immoral to do so. You have my word on that."

"You left out ‘unethical’, Miss Swenson", Mr. Goldfarb said.

"Intentionally, Mr. Goldfarb. Is it unethical to keep silent about knowledge of unethical behavior which is in response to unethical behavior?"

"What was that?"

"If someone was treated unethically, and in order to get justice, committed an unethical, but legal, act which would clear the account, is it unethical to keep silent about it."

"Well, as long as you’re not a participant in the act, I would not think that simply having knowledge about it would be unethical."

"Then the answer to your unasked question is, ‘No, keeping silent until next Monday would not be unethical’."

Mr. Jacobs said, "I’m lost. What are we talking about?"

"I need everybody’s promise that what I tell you will remain confidential until next Monday. Otherwise, I am obligated to keep silent about what happened in Minnesota until then."

"Miss Swenson, you are an employee of this company. You were on company business in Minnesota, and I order you to make your report now, without conditions."

I rose up from my seat. "Mr. Jacobs, I am grateful for the opportunity that you have given me to improve my position. I will always cherish the memories of my time as an employee of McCarthy Publishing. But my word is my bond, and I will not betray a trust. It is with much regret that I tender my resignation. I shall clean out my desk and I will be out of the building within the hour. Good-bye Gentlemen." I turned to leave.

Mr. Jacobs said, "What are saying. You’re quitting?"

I stopped, and turned to look at him. "No, I’m not a quitter. I am resigning, since I will not work under such conditions as you require. I have given my word that what occurred in Minnesota will be held in strictest confidence until next Monday. Since you feel that you cannot comply with my request to give your word to the same condition, then I cannot report the events to you. Next Monday, I will stop in and brief you, even though I shall be doing so as an outsider. Good Day. Gentlemen." I turned to leave again.

"Hold on. Will you sit down, please."

I stopped and turned to look at him. I just stood there.

"All right. I promise not to reveal anything until next Monday. Satisfied? Now tell me what happened in Minnesota." Mr. Jacobs asked.

"Yes, if Mr. Goldfarb and Mr. Blumond will leave the room, I shall brief YOU on everything that occurred."

Mr. Goldfarb said, "Miss Swenson is too sharp for that ploy, Sol. Very well Miss Swenson, both Mr. Blumond and myself agree to keep the confidence as well."

I didn’t say anything, I just looked at Mr. Blumond until the silence became unbearable and he cracked. "OK, I agree as well. I will keep the confidence."

Mr. Goldfarb laughed. "You should have been an attorney, Miss Swenson."

"I am very like an attorney, Mr. Goldfarb. Words are my business too.

And speaking of words, I trust all of you gentlemen will keep yours. Outside of Chuck, Peter, and myself, only you three will know of what happened in Minnesota before next Monday. I trust Peter not to say anything, and now I am trusting you. For the good of McCarthy Publishing, tell no one, not even your wives, girlfriends, or even your secretaries." I then related all the events of Minnesota, up until Chuck asked me to stay the night. There are some things that are better left unsaid.

Mr. Jacobs said, "Do you have the contract with you?"

I opened my purse and handed him the contract.

"Wonderful. I can’t wait to wave this under the nose of Bill Wilson."

I looked at him reproachfully.

"Okay, okay. I won’t say anything until next Monday, but then I’m going to say plenty."

"That’s fine, sir. If you say anything before then, Charles MacFarland will find a new publisher for his next book. And no one, I repeat, NO ONE will be able to bring him back into the fold."

Mr. Jacobs said, "Miss Swenson, you have done a wonderful job. I hope that you do not still wish to resign?"

"Not as long as you don’t try heavy handed tactics with me, sir."

"I’m sorry about that. I won’t try it again. You have done something that no one else in our industry has been able to do. Even Peter, who I always thought was the best in the business, could not do this. You can be assured that we are grateful. Why don’t you take the rest of the week off as payment for a job well done."

"Is that all?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said that if I ‘bring home the bacon, then I will get a place at the table’."

"As soon as an opening occurs, you will be considered along with the other candidates."

"I see. Then if you don’t mind, I would prefer to have four days off next week instead."

"I’m almost afraid to ask, but why next week?"

"I’m under an oath of silence this week, but next week I’ll be able to talk about Chuck MacFarland and Buck Marshall. I think that I can guarantee both authors will contract future books to whoever will hire me as an Associate Publisher. And I will have time to update up my resume, and make appointments with the right people."

"You wouldn’t do that. We could deny that you had any involvement with the contract signings."

"More importantly, who would Chuck MacFarland and Buck Marshall support. They both signed because of me, not because of you, Mr. Jacobs."

He just sat and glared at me. "You really play hardball, Miss Swenson. And… you’re good at it. I can see how you got those two to sign with you." Then he smiled. "Welcome aboard, Miss Swenson, Associate Publisher for McCarthy Publishing, Inc. You know, if you had meekly accepted my offer of only four days vacation, then I would have thought that the contract signings were a fluke. By sticking to your guns, you’ve shown me what you’re made of. You’re the best I’ve seen, outside of Peter Hotaling. He would never have accepted only four days off either. You’ll make a good partner for him."

Mr. Goldfarb and Mr. Blumond broke their tense silence and started laughing. They both stood up to congratulate me. Mr. Jacobs outlined the details of my new position. I was being given everything that I had earned as Peter, with a slightly lower salary. I wasn’t upset because as Peter, I had been doing this job for years. A newcomer shouldn’t expect to receive the same pay as an experienced employee. And the pay was easily double what I had been making as Kara. Publisher’s agents are always better paid than editors are. Plus I had an expense account and would be receiving company credit cards. I would have my own office on ‘executive row’ and share a secretary with several others. After thanking Mr. Jacobs, and Mr. Goldfarb, I went with Mr. Blumond to see my new office. It turned out that they had had it all arranged in case I was successful.

My new office was only several doors down from the office that I had occupied as Peter. Mr. Blumond said that I was to start immediately, after I wrapped up whatever I was working on as an editor. He congratulated me again and returned to Mr. Jacobs’s office. I went downstairs to my old office and cleaned out my desk. My assistant helped me to carry my things upstairs and I took her to an early lunch to thank her for all her work as assistant to Kara. I told her that she was always welcome at my new office and hoped that she would come to visit me when I was in town. She said that she would miss the morning talks that we had shared as we drank our first cup of tea each day. I told her that I would stop down when ever I could. I felt that we had become friends. Quite an accomplishment considering the attitudes towards me when I had became Kara just three weeks ago.

After lunch, my former assistant returned to the office that we had shared, and I went to my new office. I sat down in my new chair and swiveled around to look out the window. I reflected on my life. In less than three weeks, I had regained a position similar to the one that I had held as Peter. I had a new, younger body that I had been able to get into reasonably good physical shape. I had a beautiful woman, who loved me and would make love to me whenever I wished, waiting for me at home. I was attractive and desirable, and I had my choice of men or women. My list of friends, though small, was growing rapidly. Just three weeks ago, I was crying in a motel in Arkansas about how the ‘Observer’ had ruined my life. Now I was beginning to wonder if I wanted to change back. I wondered how Peter felt, really?

 

(Continued in Part 2)

 

 

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copyright 1999 C.Sprite

This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any persons living or dead is a coincidence. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story may contact me for permission. Permission will not be withheld as long as, the text remains unchanged except for formatting changes, that no fee is charged either directly or indirectly (this includes the so-called "adult checks"), and, provided that this disclaimer and attribution to the original author are maintained. Anyone wishing to make comments is welcome to e-mail me at crystal@storysite.org