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Randomlifer – Chapter 8 – by lostandwhatever

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Continued from Chapter 7.

Church bored me. I tried to focus on the service, but my mind wandered, which was a problem, considering that I was trying hard not to think about my situation any more than was necessary.

About twenty minutes in, after the novelty of being able to swing my legs had faded, I realized I was wearing a dress. Yeah, obviously, I freaking put it on myself. But, in the rush of the morning routine, I had simply followed Morgan’s lead. I had just acted without thinking much about what I was doing. And, once I had the dress on, I had just been happy to not be standing around naked or in my underwear anymore. Now, I was sitting in church in a dress, and the reality of that fact disturbed me. I had never worn a dress before. The openness of it was unnerving. There was the basic girliness of it as well. In my mind, I was still a teenaged boy. Every time I faced a reminder of my new femininity, I felt an awkward disconnect with my body again. It just wasn’t “me.”

Then, I felt it, the pressure on my bladder. I had to pee.

“Excuse me,” I said as I slid off the pew and sidled past Morgan. Mom gave me a curious look. “Bathroom,” I whispered. She nodded.

I walked to the foyer in back and rushed into the bathroom. I stepped into a stall and closed the door. Then, I remembered I was wearing a dress again. How am I supposed to pee in this thing? I thought. The pressure on my bladder was growing. “Screw it,” I said, and just pulled the dress off altogether. I hung it from a peg on the door, dropped my underwear, and hopped up on the seat. I put a hand on my crotch to angle the stream, but then I realized I had nothing to angle down there. “How do I pee?” I said and smirked to hear those words in Morgan’s voice. My body answered a moment later, as a stream of warm urine poured out of a hole I had never had before and wet my fingers. I pulled them away and wiped them on toilet paper. For the first time that morning, I felt some relief from tension. At least, peeing was taking care of itself.

Then, I realized where I was and the mistake I had made; I was a girl in the boys’ bathroom. I had walked past urinals on the way to the stall. Habit had led me here. I mean, I had never knowingly walked into a girls’ bathroom before. I had just defaulted to the boys’ side. For a moment, I worried that I might get caught. Then, I calmed down when I realized that a girl in the boys’ bathroom was nowhere near as big a problem as the other way around. I might get funny looks, but that was it.

I relaxed and just enjoyed the release of pressure on my bladder. At that moment, a fart escaped. “Oops,” I said, faintly embarrassed. Then, I smelled it. “Oh, gross!” I said. It reeked! I know it’s gross to describe it, but that was not what my farts smelled like. It was a foreign fart, a stranger’s fart… Morgan’s fart. And, it had come out of me.

The full horror of the situation hit me again. Here I was sitting on a toilet, peeing out of Morgan’s vagina with traces of her urine on my fingers… her fingers. I had the smell of her fart, her shit, in my nostrils… her nostrils. I was full of her piss and shit. She was leaking out of me. She was inside of me! No, she was all over me. I was covered in her. I was filled with her from head to toe. It was like I was possessed in reverse. Instead of my soul taking over another body, her body had taken over my soul. I became conscious of my entire body, every part of me. Her sweat dripped down my skin. Her saliva coated my mouth. I exhaled her humid breath and inhaled through a nose full of her snot. “Oh, God,” I moaned in her panicked voice. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. I couldn’t escape! I was caged inside of her. I was trapped!

I finished peeing. I was about to stand up to get away from the smell, but I felt wet down there. I had nothing to shake, so I dabbed my crotch with some toilet paper. The reality of what I was doing disturbed me even more. I felt what was there. It was criminal, or it would be if who I was inside was actually touching what I was on the outside. The fact that my sister was at all represented here gave the moment an even worse incestuous horror.

I finished up quickly and flushed the toilet. I pulled up my underwear and tights, hiding what was there as best as I could. I was in shock. My existence had become a disturbing and immoral nightmare, every second of which seemed like an invasion of the life of a little girl, my sister Morgan’s life. I felt creepy. I felt like I was peeking into the girls’ bathroom like a pervert. It was shameful, but I had no way of stopping it. There was no way out.

I put the dress back on. Any sense of wrongness about wearing it was overridden by the comfort of being covered up. I was happy for any way to hide what was underneath. I left the stall and was relieved to find I was still alone in the bathroom. I hadn’t been caught although a lingering guilt followed me. I washed my girly hands, and avoided making eye contact with my reflection. Then, I returned to the pew, taking my seat between Casey and Morgan, my rightful place. I took comfort in being just one of three again, like the Morgan in me had been diluted and spread away from me on both sides. The real Morgan was at my side. I was not her. “I am not her,” I whispered to myself. “I am not her.”

 

***

 

Later that morning, I stood in our apartment kitchen across from my mother, my arms crossed in stubborn defiance.

“I am not going,” I said. The dress was gone, and I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The new unisex outfit gave me a little more confidence it seemed.

“We are all going,” Mom corrected me.

“Well, I don’t feel good. I’m not going. I’m sick.”

“You are not sick,” Mom said, unmoved. “We’ve been planning to go to the pool today for weeks. Morgan and Casey are already getting their stuff together. You need to go get your towel and your swimsuit so we can leave.”

I pictured myself in a skintight little girl’s swimsuit and shivered. “Can’t I just stay home?”

“Alone?” Mom scoffed. “I don’t think so, little missy.”

“What’s the matter?” Casey said as she walked into the room. She was wearing a pair of plastic sunglasses and holding a rolled up towel.

“I am not going,” I repeated.

“What? Aw, come on, Alex,” moaned Casey. “It’s gonna be so much fun. You have to go.”

“Wait,” said Morgan as she joined us in the room, holding her own towel. “What’s the matter?”

“Alex doesn’t want to go,” Casey explained.

Morgan glared at me. I was a little surprised at how intimidating her look was. “You don’t want to go?” She asked me, accusingly.

“I just don’t feel like it,” I said and glanced over at the computer in the living room. If only I could be alone for a little while, I could get on the Randolifer website. I might have a chance at fixing everything.

“Please, Alex. Can’t you just go and sit on the lawn chairs while we swim?” Casey suggested.

“Alex is going,” Morgan said.

“What?” I said, a bit shocked at her forcefulness.

“You are going,” Morgan replied. Then, she turned to Mom. “Can the three of us just talk about this for a minute?” Morgan asked her.

Mom sighed and threw up her hands. “Fine,” she said. “Sort it out together.” She left the three of us alone in the room.

Morgan watched her go and then hissed at me in a furious whisper. “What are you doing?”

“I want to stay home,” I explained.

“We are all going,” Morgan said. It wasn’t a suggestion.

“Why do you want to stay home so bad?” Casey asked. “Do you really feel sick?”

“No,” I admitted. “I just have something I need to to do… alone.” Again, I glanced at the computer.

Morgan saw that. “You want to get on the computer alone?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said. “I can’t explain why, but I need to use it alone.”

Morgan looked at me. I could see the gears turning in her mind. “Okay,” she said after coming to some kind of decision. “You want some time on the computer alone? Fine. Casey and I can help you do that.”

“You can?” I asked.

“We can?” Casey asked.

“Yes,” Morgan said. “We’ll help you if you do two things. One,” she said, holding up a finger. “You need to go to the pool now and not cause any problems.”

“Okay,” I said. Even though I wanted to be anywhere else, I was willing to do that much for a chance to get on the computer. “And, the other thing…?”

Morgan half-smiled and said, “Two,” holding up another finger. “You need to do whatever I tell you to do later.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not going to be your slave just to amuse you.”

“Fine,” Morgan said. “I won’t tell you to do a million things. How about you just do one thing for me at the pool later?”

“‘One thing?’” I said. “That’s it?”

“Yes,” she said.

I was suspicious. “What is it? What do I have to do?”

“I don’t know, yet,” Morgan said, and I believed her. “I’ll figure it out when we’re there, but whatever it is, you have to do it. No backing out, or we won’t help you later.” She held out her hand for me to shake. “Deal?”

That worried part of my mind begged me not to make a deal with Morgan, but I needed help. Whatever humiliation I might face at the pool would be worth it if I could get my old life back. I shook her hand. “Deal.”

“Yay, Morgan’s going!” Casey shouted to Mom, and then she said to me. “Thanks a lot. Wait here. I’ll get your suit and towel.” She ran off to our room.

Morgan and I stood there alone. The satisfied smile on her face worried me.

To be continued in Chapter 9

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