Lake Otherlife, Part 6: Hot New Couple in Town

A visit to a mysterious outback lake results in a big change for George and Holly, who are already undergoing relationship troubles of their own. Now, with their genders and lives utterly altered, will their romance last?

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Lake Otherlife, Part 6: Hot New Couple in Town

Holly:

I woke first. For a few moments, I forgot that I was now a man. In the dull mindset that comes with waking, I couldn’t figure out why I had my arms wrapped around a small, soft body. Very soft. I had dreamed that a small knot existed in my stomach, a living anxiety that trembled and shrieked and screamed at me every time I was in a tense situation, until suddenly I could take no more and plucked it out. Like a magic Cinderella, I was suddenly changed by magic, becoming my true self. Only my true self was tall, muscly. Hairy. And it felt . . . commanding. Dominant. Powerful.

For the briefest moment when I woke I was disappointed. I had felt so strong, and now I was little, weak Holly O’Neill, unable to stand up to herself. And that was when I felt the large protuberance lying dormant between my legs, pressed against the round, fleshy backside of the woman I was holding.

Holy shit, I was a man. The dream had meaning, and everything that had happened yesterday was indeed real. I was still Harry O’Neill, which meant the gorgeous and warm body I was currently huddled around protectively, still half-snoring asleep, was my once-manly fiancé, George. Now Gabriella.

Which meant the other thing we had done yesterday was real, too. We had had sex. Quite passionate sex, in fact. Penis-in-vagina, loud moaning and wailing, thrusting and gushing sex. It was almost impossible to believe it, but I had ejaculated inside my husband, and it had feel damn, damn good. And him! My God, I could hardly believe that little anxious Holly had been the one to penetrate and fuck, but to know that George had actually submitted to me, and allowed himself to be penetrated and fucked, that was something else!  I cuddled the gorgeous latina woman in my arms a little tighter, and she purred slightly in that sensual voice of hers, whispering something in her Spanish. I tried to avoid giggling at how ridiculous it was. Deny it as he would, he had actually enjoyed it last night. George - Gabriella - had moaned and cried with the best of them, and had just about screamed into the pillow at one point to keep the sound down. The orgasms she’d received had made me damn jealous, I wasn’t going to lie. But then, I was quite envious of a few features . . .

I cupped her large, soft breast, enjoying its weight and size. Her flesh overflowed my palms, and my fingers sank into them slightly. God, they must be heavy; if we were stuck like this my fiancé was going to have major back problems unless she finally submitted to wearing a good bra! I continued to play with them, moving my other arm awkwardly between us to feel her large, supple ass. Somehow, being a man had made me utterly heterosexual, and now that I had started to appreciate her form and smell the dark curls of her hair, I couldn’t stop. She was peaceful and beautiful, less stressed than I had seen her as a man in months, but there was a monster inside of me that also wanted satisfaction. I needed her, and from the way my large penis was rising to press firmly between her cheeks, it was bordering on a biological instinct.

“I want you, Gabriella,” I whispered in her ear.

To my surprise, she began to shift her wide hips, pressing her naked behind against my manhood, and rubbing up against it. I began to breathe harder, groping her tits a little more firmly and running my fingers over her delicious dark nipples.

She moaned, slowly coming up to consciousness.

George:

I had the most amazing dream. In it, all my need to be in control had melted away. I had no idea how much it dominated me, the need to be in control all the time. I didn’t feel the need to constantly lead, to be the decision-maker, or to hide my emotions. All my life, I’d felt the constant need to hide my emotions and be stoic. In this dream, I was somehow softer, smaller, and yet able to feel so much more deeply, and let others in. A great pair of arms encircled me and I felt whole. The dream ended when one of those arms began to make its way down to my huge culo. Wait, culo?

I realised at once that I was thinking in Spanish, not English. And more than that, I had two heavy somethings pulling on my chest as I was lying down, one resting on the other, and a firm hand grasping and groping them both. Dios mio, I was a chica. A woman. It was real. As real as the manly body pressed up behind me, as real as huge tetas on my chest, and as real as the big dick pressing between my cheeks.

And, I realised, as real as the moistness that was growing between my thighs in response to it. I launched from the bed.

“Mother fucker!”

My fiancée leapt up as well. “Gabriella, are you alright?”

I stood naked, several features wobbling, as I put my hands on my rounded hips. “It’s George, Harry! I mean Holly! And what the fuck were you just doing? Que mierda!”

The handsome man that was my fiancée gave a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry, Gab - George. I’m sorry. I only just woke up. I’ve got these . . . impulses.”

My eyes were drawn to his very hard dick, erect and out in the open. I was briefly transfixed by it, and couldn’t help but gulp at its size. That had managed to fit inside of me last night? I held my gaze on it for several more seconds, resisting the urge to quickly lick my lips.

“I think,” I said, “I think I do too.”

“I can see that.”

I looked down to his gaze, and sure enough I could see what he was looking at as surely as I felt it: my nipples were pointed and hard, still aching for more of his ministrations. God, this body had a million ways to humiliate me. I was just fortunate that this damned wet pussy of mine wasn’t visible. I could only hope he couldn’t smell it, like I sometimes could when Holly had been ultra-horny. That was things were better for us, and not just because of the magical sex-change.

“We should cover up,” I suggested.

“Good idea. Are you sure you want to wear what you did yesterday?”

I pulled the bed sheets against my body for modesty. “I don’t see why not.”

Harry - I mean, Holly, chuckled. “It’s just it caused you no end of misery and embarrassment. You might as well dress like a lady if you look like one, George. It’ll make things easier for figuring out how to change back.”

That piqued my attention. “You have a plan?”

Holly smiled, and I couldn’t deny it was a handsome, charming smile. This body was definitely one hundred percent heterosexual.

“I’ll tell you about it . . . if you get dressed up in Gabriella’s clothes.”

I groaned, feeling more than a little emasculated. “Really? This again?”

“I mean it, George, just like I meant a lot of what was said last night. As I think you did too. Whatever has happened to us, has happened for a reason. I think, for now, we should learn from it, even as we work to find a way to stop it. So . . . learn to wear a sostén. That’s bra in Spanish, by the way.”

“You know that I know that.”

“I’ll help if necessary.”

She had me over a barrel if she had a plan. If he had a plan. More and more our dynamic was starting to feel reversed; him the go-getter man, me the supportive woman. I sighed.

“Fine, I’ll figure it out myself. Just don’t make fun when I look ridiculous.”

Holly:

It was a victory I hadn’t expected, and moreover one that hadn’t taken too long. George left to go have a shower. I decided against joining her - I’d likely call her Gabriella again, and besides, this monster between my legs would have other notions of what might happen between us. Instead, I simply made myself a tea and got my bathrobe, thinking on what had passed last night. Being a man, penetrating a gorgeous woman, it felt as much a conquest as an act of love. It was a feeling of power that was almost intoxicating, and it was hard not to think about it.

In no time at all the lovely Gabriella had emerged in her own bathrobe, which just managed to conceal her best features, though a nice deep line of cleavage still made its way nearly to her clavicle. I hopped in and luxuriated, and spent much longer time. But as my thoughts drifted again to her form, I decided a cold shower was more necessary.

When I was finished, I went and got dressed. Gabriella, as I was increasingly thinking of her as, returned to the bathroom to prepare herself privately, having chosen an outfit. Clearly, she was still embarrassed. I shrugged and put my clothes on, appreciating how the tight briefs held my package in and the jeans worked to obscure it further. It felt a little showy to wear a white top that conformed to my new musculature, but I supposed it was no different from wearing a tight top when you had a large bust; you displayed what good you had.

It was as I had thought that I heard several amusing sounds coming from the bathroom, most of them in Spanish, but several in English.

“Damn thing won’t fit!”

“God, why is it so tight? How do these straps work?”

“Why did they have to be so big?”

“Stupid tetas. Can’t even see my own feet anymore!”

I tried to hide my laughter, and over time the sounds of girlish frustration dimmed, and I had my tea. And waited.

After about ten minutes, she emerged, and she was a sight to see. My formerly-male fiancé was wearing a black tank top and denim jeans, the straps of a dark bra just visible beneath. Her hair was a mane of curls that had barely been treated, and looked more like a tangle of frizzles. Her body was killer, but I could see one boob was raised higher than the other, her jeans were pulled up too high, and she badly needed some guidance with her hair.

“I look estúpido.”

I broke into laughter, and her face went bright red. For just a flash, I could see what appeared to be tears forming. My God, the transformation really had made her quite emotional! I instantly stopped, and moved to her side.

“It’s okay, George. I’ll help you get fitted into the cups right. And the hair - that will take some learning as well. I can teach you: it’ll be important to know. You’ve got your jeans too high. Here’s, let’s pull them down.”

I tugged them down and she tried to stop me.

“No! It’ll show off my damn belly button.”

I gave a sympathetic smile. “George, I think Gabriella’s outfits are tailored to that look.”

“What if I pulled down this top a little . . .”

He began to tug at his tank top, pulling it down, and a mammoth line of cleavage for his magnificent chest was now on display, free to wobble openly to the world. I tried to focus on not getting erect again. George instantly realised her mistake and went red again.

“This was a mistake.”

“No, this is pragmatic. Come here, I’ll fix you up, then we’ll get breakfast, then I’ll tell you my plan.”

George:

I looked like a damn trophy wife. A hot, busty latina on the arm of her hubbie, tits bouncing heavily on my chest as I moved in sandals. I could feel my big ass bounce despite the tight jeans, wobbling with each sway of these hips. It was hard not to walk as a woman in this body. But at least I didn’t have all my hair in my face, and I knew how to put on a bra now. Even having my midriff showing wasn’t that bad, I supposed. As Holly had helped me, I tried to keep my mind in business mode, but for some reason I felt calmer this morning, despite the horror of being stuck as a latina woman. Flashes of last night’s passion came to me when he worked to be optimistic about the day, and placed his hands on my little shoulders. It was weirdly reassuring, despite my own reluctance. And that, in its own way, scared me more than a little.

Holly had explained the plan, and it was a simple one, though not terrible either. Others had found Lake Otherlife, this was no doubt. After all, there were numerous scratches and messages around the lake, only a few of which we read. All we had to do was track down anyone in the area that had heard of it, and question them on what we had to do to find it again. There was a lot left for chance, but stuck as we were, I wasn’t sure what options remained to us. Besides, it felt oddly right to let Holly take the lead on this one. I wasn’t sure if my mind had changed, or if it was my hormones, or just the fact that what he had said about me last night was entirely too true, but it was how I felt. We ate our breakfast in the lobby, and left out into the city, having mapped a few spots to visit.

“Okay, so here’s what we need to do,” Holly said, walking in large, masculine strides. “I’ve checked over the internet as much as I can, and found only rumours and whispers. No answers. But the few message boards that mention something like Lake Otherlife all talked of a bookstore that might have the answers we need.”

I walked faster, trying to keep up with my masculined fiancé’s steps. Just trying to keep at his pace was causing my boobs to bounce in my top even more than usual as we made our way through the town centre. I was worried I’d start gaining attention.

“Which bookstore?” I asked.

He shrugged, and I had to admire the way his shoulder muscles showed through his white shirt. Damn, it was strange to suddenly have a thing for guys’ shoulder muscles.

“No idea,” he said. “And there’s more than a few. But I figure we check out some of the older and historic ones. Ancient times and the like.”

“How many of those are there?”

“Well, there’s at least a dozen, plus a couple more I’ve added to the list just in case. There’s a few Aboriginal cultural stores and displays I’ve noted to check out too. That place was old, older than colonisation, so maybe our First Nations citizens know something about it. Seemed like a not dumb thing to try for, at least.”

He wasn’t wrong, but it was hard to show him that I agreed; he was too damn fast! I was getting lost behind him as we made our way down the side of the street, and worse, I was discovering that as a woman people don’t just move for you. I was shifting from side to side, getting annoying gazes from male passerbys staring at my tits, and George was only getting further and further ahead, talking to thin air behind him. It was loco!

“Hey!” I called out, frustrated as hell and feeling the ‘spicy’ part of the ‘spicy latina’ burning inside of me. “Stop moving so fast, damn it! I’ve only got little legs now, and yours are twice as big, I can’t keep up!”

Holly/Harry looked back and blushed briefly as I hurried forward, tits bouncing rapidly and putting on a show for a male passerby. The man was so distracted that he tripped on an uneven pavement and nearly toppled over. Served him right for staring. I was starting to get an appreciation for what Holly had to put up with at times, and I was likely to get it more than twice as bad, given my figure being basically a walking advertisement for sex.

“Sorry about that,” Holly said as I reached him.

I put my hands on my hips and glared upwards. “Not happening again. You walk at my speed now.”

He chuckled, causing me to raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry, it’s just that I always had to keep up with you when you were a man, George. You were large and in charge and certainly liked to barge. Not so fun when the shoe is on the other dainty foot, is it?”

I had no real response to that, other than to flush red a little. This body had a habit of that. “Fine! You’re right! This is a learning experience. And no one is moving for me. Aren’t women supposed to get some courtesy?”

Another chortle. “Sometimes. You’ll find men tripping over themselves to open doors for you and pull seats out, and helping you when you need directions. But, as you’ve already discovered, being hit on will also happen, along with cat calls, stares, the occasional grope.”

“You’re kidding. Broma.”

“No joke, dear. And with that hourglass figure you better be ready for it.”

I was exasperated. “Why would anyone want to be a woman?”

He chuckled, moving at a slower pace as we approached the first store.

“Well, there are certainly upsides. The fashion, for one. You look good, Gabriella.” Despite the use of the name, the compliment felt weirdly good after all of this morning’s effort. “Not to mention you can create life.”

The thought of pregnancy made my stomach turn. We really should have thought of that when we were drunk. The notion of getting knocked up was terrifying. Thank goodness this was a temporary change.

“And there’s also the fact that women are a sisterhood the world over, for the most part. Women can talk to one another, and emotionally support one another. And women are just as accomplished as men in practically all walks of life, more so in some areas, just as men are in others. But you’re a person, George. Some parts of being a woman just plain suck - I hope you don’t have to put up with a period, for instance.”

“Dios mio, I hadn’t even considered that.”

He smirked. “Plus there’s all the harassment and not being taken seriously. But we are allowed to be healthier with our emotions, something men find it impossible to do in our society. Don’t you already feel like it’s easier to be able to express yourself?”

I did, in fact. It was embarrassing to admit, but even the way I looked down, away from his gaze, was telling.

“Told you.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, real mature, Gabbi.”

I crossed my arms under my bouncing breasts. “Somehow Gabbi is worse than Gabriella. You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

My handsome fiancé shrugged again as we pulled to a stop outside the store.

“What can I say? I’m enjoying the sight of my fiancé with a fine set of boobies.”

I rolled my eyes and entered, ignoring the whistle he gave as he watched my rondure backside shift with each step.

Holly:

“You’ve never heard of it? Are you sure?”

We were now thirteen locations in, and the day was drawing to a close. The store owner shook his head, though his eyes wandered a number of times to the cleavage of the woman talking to her. George was fiery all right. It wasn’t a ‘spicy latina’ fire, though it was easy to make that joke. Instead, she was still displaying that need to pursue and get things done immediately, often without patience. Only now it was manifesting with a little more neediness.

“I’m sure,” the man said, leaning back against the shelf. “You’re welcome to take a look at our records, but Kakadu’s pretty well mapped, and there’s not a lot more to be said about it unless another set of cave chalk paintings are found and heritage listed. As it is, we’re mainly a fiction bookshop.”

My partner sighed, not realising how much it caused her bosom to rise and fall. I myself was having my own trouble fending off a young shop assistant with long dark hair and a petite but pretty figure. She had round glasses and a cute button nose, and while George was the hottest thing on the block, I found the nerdy look suddenly working for me too. It was obvious this woman found me attractive, as her eyes continually fell to my muscles and bare forearms. Weirdly, I did not feel vulnerable. Merely flattered. George probably didn’t feel the same way.

We left the store. George was irritated. I could understand why; we had been searching all day, and our hopes had been continually dashed. Not even the cartography store had what we needed, and even those who showed interest in helping us and did their best turned up nothing. We had to stop for lunch, and while we were getting more used to our forms, I could tell George was unused to having her female form appreciated by the public, particularly given that her impressively ample chest strained the fabric of her tank top and had enough flesh out of it to bounce impressively and eye-catchingly. A couple of catcalls had required me to give ‘the look’ to tell others off. It was something George had done a number of times for me, and it was oddly empowering to return the favour. But still, our mounting failures were wearing us down, and this felt like the last straw for my feminised partner.

“Did you see the pendejo? He didn’t even try to help us! And he was staring at my cleavage the whole time.”

“To be fair dear, it is quite a sight. Utterly cavernous.”

“Oh, ha ha. Look who is suddenly a comedian now that she has a pair of balls.”

It was meant to be more sardonic in tone clearly, but her sexy accent made it sound almost like a come on, and from the look of her face, she realised it too.

“You know what I mean!”

“I’ll try not to make jokes, but you need to calm down, George. Like we talked about last night when drunk, you can try to use this as an opportunity to stop pushing yourself to the limit. It’s okay to work together. I know it’s been a long day. There’s still a few places left on the list.”

She sighed, and to my shock, actually leaned against me. It was the first actual public contact she had given me since she had changed. Others around passed us, and to all eyes we were an ordinary - if incredibly attractive - couple. But still, it felt wonderful. Slowly, ensuring she was okay with it, I placed my arms around her, and simply held her lovingly for a moment. She shed a few tears, and I didn’t comment on them with a joke. To me, it was a view of progress. After twenty seconds or so, she pulled away.

“Gracias. Thank you.”

“I’m here for you, love.”

“I know. I - I don’t think I could do it without you.”

I put a hand on her shoulder gently, and she accepted it. There were a few people around, across the street and further down the side path, but on the whole, it felt for a moment like it was just us in the dry afternoon heat. I felt closer to George at that moment than I had in some time, barring the events of last night. And so it was that I moved my hand slowly to cup her neck, and drew closer to her, lowering my lips to her. She looked to me with eyes that were filled with longing, a burning need to be not only comforted but supported. I suppose, in a way, that was what George needed all along. Just a different kind of support than she thought.

I pressed my lips against hers, and she yielded to me. Her mouth was full and soft, and tasted wonderful, with just a hint of coffee. We did not kiss deeply, or passionately, but there was a reassuring love there, and I found myself supported too. I hadn’t realised that while I was pushing past my anxiety, I was nearly falling into George’s old trap, and becoming stuck in ‘dominance mode.’ Feeling that love and support helped calm me too.

“Thank you, George,” I said.

“No worries, I guess,” she replied, looking away and brushing a stray dark curl. God, she was gorgeous. Despite the strangeness of it all, and our altered bodies, in that moment I felt like I was falling in love with that same person all over again, a healthier version of them, perhaps. At least, a nascent version of a healthier George, even if she was currently Gabriella.

I hadn’t finished the thought when suddenly her eyes widened, and looked behind me. I turned, feeling oddly protective of any threats to my Gabriella or George or whatever she was called, as there was a genuine fear in her eyes. There, approaching with determination, was a young man of Aboriginal descent wearing a red hoodie and blue pants. He had a serious expression, and was moving to us quickly.

“Can I help you?” I asked, getting into a more secure stance.

The man stopped, and cocked his head, seeming to examine us for a moment. Then he burst out laughing.

“That is the girliest fight pose I have ever seen.”

“What?”

“Um, he’s right dear,” George whispered behind me, “that pose looks ridiculous.”

“Well, I’m not looking for a fight,” I declared, putting a hand on my hip.

The stranger laughed again. “Another girly pose! Please, do another!”

By this point I was feeling thoroughly humiliated and more than a little angry.

“Look, are you just here to insult me or do you have a reason for coming right up to my face?”

The man smiled, and it was a big smile indeed. All teeth. He was shorter than me, but had a scrappiness to him that told me he was pretty tough. I felt I could beat him. Oh God, was I really sizing up another man to fight? I hadn’t realised how much testosterone was amping me up.

“I’m not here to fight, sheila,” he said. He gave an exaggerated, comical bow to me, before reaching over to give George a manly shake of the hand. “And I’m not making fun of you, mate.”

Neither of us said a word. Surely he couldn’t know . . .

But his grin said everything.

“So, a little bird tells me that a hot new couple on the block have been asking everyone and their mums about Lake Otherlife. Would you like to talk to a bloke who actually knows, or keep running up your cardio steps?”

He grinned, folding his arms expectantly, as he waited for a reply.

“It’s okay, I’ll wait till you pick your jaws up.”

To Be Continued . . .