Alien Exchange Program Read online

  Their father came out of the tent, stretching. There might be some tomfoolery going on, but his priorities were different than his wife's.

  "What's for breakfast?" he asked.

  He was no slouch, though, and, having broached the most important subject, he commented further.

  "And why are you kids wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday? Didn't you bring enough changes? I've told you time and time again that changing clothes is important when you can't take a shower every day."

  Carly knew that the jig was up. She had enough on her mind already. Trying to come up with a bunch of lies to answer her parents' questions was just too much for her to deal with, in the present circumstances.

  "I think we fell asleep out here last night," she said.

  "You think you slept out here last night?" Her mother's skepticism was plain to hear. "Are you two on drugs?" Now there was tragedy in her voice.

  "No!" she heard herself say. She looked at herself. Or at Craig. This was going to get confusing.

  "Sit down," she said. "We have something we need to tell you about."

  "Oh my God, Jack, they are high on drugs!" moaned their mother.

  "No we're not," said Carly. "But you may wish we were when we tell you what happened."

  *****

  Carly knew they were going to have to try to explain things. But she didn't have a clue as to how she was going to do that. She needed more information. The pain in her groin gave her a chance to delay the inevitable.

  "But first, I have to pee," she said.

  "I can tell," said her father, looking at her hips.

  She looked down. That obscene bulge was still there. She had ... an erection! It was crazy. The term "morning wood" popped into her mind. Craig had said something about that sometime in the past. She hadn't understood it then, and she didn't understand it now, but apparently, that's what she had. She had seen Craig "make adjustments" to his groin before, moving things around so they weren't so noticeable. Boys got boners all the time, and Craig was no different.

  She stared at the bulge again. The tip of "her" penis was pressed tightly against the cloth. It looked disgusting. Intuitively, she realized that, if she lifted the thing upwards, at least it wouldn't stick out quite as much.

  She reached into Craig's shorts and gingerly grasped Craig's penis with thumb and one finger. She could feel it, though, and she realized that thinking about that penis as "Craig's" was wrong. It was hers now.

  That was pretty disgusting too.

  "Craig!" barked their mother. "Have a little tact, please!"

  Carly looked up to see that her mother had observed her handling her penis.

  "Sorry," she croaked. She looked over at her body. "Carly has to pee too," she said, meaningfully, looking at herself. Or at him. This was going to be confusing. "Don't you ... Carly? Don't you need to go to the bathroom?"

  She watched "her" head turn, and "her" hands came up to lift "her" hair and look at it. They clumsily tossed it over her shoulder. His shoulder.

  This was already confusing.

  "We'll tell you all about it when we get back," she said. "Come on, Jewels." She used his pet name for her, based on her middle name, which was Jewel. She secretly loved that nickname, but publicly complained about it. She had known that, if she complained, he'd keep using it. He had, and she did now.

  "I'm not -" He made her voice sound reedy. Plus she didn't want him to finish that sentence, because she knew what he was going to say, and if he said it, they'd never get this chance to talk, to exchange information. To try to figure out how on Earth they were going to explain all this to their parents.

  "Come on!" she blurted, interrupting him. "Let's go. I'm going to pee your pants if we don't hurry."

  "What?" Her mother's surprise was obvious. "What do you mean ... pee his pants? "

  "I meant he'll pee his pants," she said, hurriedly. She was going to have to stop thinking about him as her.

  She took his hand, and briefly marveled at how big her hands were now. She was also surprised at how soft his hands felt. Her hands.

  This was impossible!

  Neither of them saw the look that Fran and Jack exchanged, as their children moved off, hand in hand. It was a look every parent would have recognized, that look parents give their children when it's obvious something strange is going on, but they haven't figured out what that is yet.

  Carly waited until they were out of earshot.

  "We've switched bodies somehow," she whispered urgently.

  "That can't be," he said.

  "Look at us!" she hissed.

  He looked at her. She knew he was seeing his own body, as if in a mirror. Except he was holding his own hand.

  "Well , switch us back!" he said.

  "Don't you think that if I knew how to do that, I'd have done it already?"

  "Well how did this happen?"

  "Remember that bright light last night?"

  "Yeah."

  His sloppy speech sounded strange, coming from her lips.

  "What do you remember after that light surrounded us?"

  He was silent for a couple of heartbeats.

  "I can't remember anything until I woke up."

  "Me either," she said.

  It was quiet for a while longer as they both tried to wrap their minds around things.

  "You think we were abducted by aliens or something? That always involves bright lights."

  "In the movies," she said, dismissively.

  "Well do you have a better explanation?"

  "No."

  "Well, there you go, then. Aliens abducted us and did experiments on us and switched our minds."

  "That can't be true," she moaned.

  "Why not?"

  "Because if that's what happened, then I'm going to be stuck in your body forever!"

  A silence of at least five seconds ticked by this time.

  "Fuck," he said softly.

  "Would you please stop cursing with my mouth?" she groaned.

  "Whatever," he said, dismissively. "We're fucked, Carly. If we can't figure out a way to change back, we're just fucked. Those aliens might have abducted us once, but they don't come back for seconds. Or if they do, it's years and years later, so they can see how you have progressed."

  She started crying, and let go of the soft hand she already missed having. Her fingers came up to wipe at the tears spilling out of her eyes.

  "Hey! Don't do that!" he complained.

  "What?" She sniffled.

  "You're making me cry. Don't make me cry. That's not manly. You're making me look like a wimp."

  "We're stuck in each other's bodies and all you care about is me making your stupid body look like a wimp?"

  "I have a reputation to keep up," he said, sounding injured.

  "No ... I have a reputation to keep up," she said, her voice gravely. "This is my body now, and there is no way I'm going to be all macho and strut around like I'm better than everybody else."

  "I don't do that," he scoffed.

  "That's exactly what you do," she argued. "But not me."

  "People will think I'm gay if you make my body act like you do."

  "So maybe you are? Just because I'm in your body doesn't mean I've stopped liking guys."

  "You can't do that," he said, horrified. "You can't go out with guys while you're in my body. I'd just die of shame."

  "So you're going to give up girls?" She arched one eyebrow at him.

  "No," he said, automatically. He started thinking about that. "It's different for girls. Girl on girl is sexy."

  She wanted to argue with him, but her bladder was sounding alarm bells.

  "I have to pee!" she moaned.

  She took off running. By now the bathroom was only fifteen yards away.

  She went in the women's side automatically. She didn't even think about it until she had to negotiate new ground in actually urinating.

  She shut herself into a cubicle and dropped her shorts as usual. Then th
ings got weird.

  Don't roll your eyes. I'm aware things were already weird. But, up until that time, she had barely touched her new appendage with her bare hand. And, to be honest, that had been so quick that it hadn't sunk in yet.

  Now, though, she not only had to touch it, she had to manipulate it. Most of us don't think of "urination" as anything special, but in Carly's case that first time of peeing – as a male - was actually a sort of event in her life.

  First off, it was long, and thick, and ... just hard. That alone was fascinating. She found she had to grasp the thing, to aim it down, lest it just fountain up all over the place. It felt very weird in her hand. She'd touched a penis before, during a date. She'd even jacked off the boy, who showed all the signs of not being able to control his urges. She only did that, though, because she was afraid that if she didn't, he'd force himself on her. She had never gone out with him again.

  But what she'd done then seemed like a shadowy memory. It had been fast, and furious, so the details were fuzzy. Now she could almost leisurely inspect a penis. Except that her bladder was killing her.

  Gingerly she aimed it, and tried to relax. She'd been holding it so long it took her a frustrated minute to get anything going. At least the relaxing part of things seemed to feel normal.

  Once it started, she stared at it in amazement. The stream was so strong it shocked her. It felt just as good as it had, to do this thing when she was in her own body, but at the same time things were different. She could feel the movement of the urine through the penis, which was long and both soft and rock hard, all at the same time.

  She felt splatters on her hand, and realized it was backsplash. She was horrified. How did boys manage this wild, unruly thing?

  Then the stream slowed, and she let herself relax some more. She inspected her penis. It had a foreskin, which only let part of the head show. At the tip of that exposed head, her yellow urine finally came to a halt. Something inside her demanded to be flexed, and when she did, another spurt was ejected. She could feel the penis getting softer already, which compounded the relief of having an empty bladder. Now maybe it would lie down and be good in her pants.

  She thought briefly about the clothes she was going to have to wear from now on.

  She decided her brother needed to go shopping for something decent to add to his wardrobe.

  *****

  Next door, in the men's side of the campground restroom, which Craig had also gone into automatically, he went first to a urinal, and then realized how fruitless that was. Then, once he was in a stall, he sat, fumbling, trying to figure out what to hold while he peed. There was nothing. All he could do was sit and hope that the stream went where it was supposed to.

  He looked down at his crotch. Except it wasn't his crotch. It was his sister's. He was staring at his sister's pussy! It was incredible.

  His complaining bladder finally opened up, and a yellow stream issued from between fat, closed pussy lips. It felt almost like it did when he didn't skin his foreskin back before peeing. He didn't like that feeling, and it made his cock smell bad. He looked at the lips, thinking he might be able to spread them apart and improve the sensation.

  But he couldn't bring himself to touch that pussy. It was his sister's pussy. He just couldn't think of it any other way.

  Not that he was averse to the idea of seeing her pussy. He'd tried to figure out ways to sneak a peek at her naked body for years. But she was always covered, either by a towel, or a robe or PJs or something.

  Now he owned her body. But he still couldn't touch her pussy. His pussy? No way. He just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that that was his pussy. He remembered squeezing the breasts earlier and looked at them. They looked huge, unmanageable, in the way. On impulse, he lifted his shirt. There was a bra there, which suddenly intruded on his consciousness. He could feel the bra, stretching tightly around his body.

  His hands went to pull, and suddenly big, white breasts fell free. He stared. They were gorgeous. The nipples were pink. Fingers went to tease them, and again he felt that twang of sensation run between those nipples and where the urine was now only dripping.

  He realized he'd have to wipe and got some toilet paper.

  It took him a full minute to actually use it, dabbing it ineffectually, at first, to sop up the remaining urine between his labia.

  Next door, his sister was gingerly using a piece of toilet paper to dab at the tip of her penis.

  Chapter Two

  The reality of the situation still hadn't sunk in as they started back to the campsite, walking side by side.

  "I can't believe this is happening," said Craig. "This can't be real."

  "It is real," she said, tersely. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

  "What can we do about it?" he asked, helplessly.

  "I don't know," she said, miserably.

  "What are we going to tell Mom and Dad?" he asked.

  She thought. It was going to be impossible to keep this a secret from their parents. She didn't want to tell them, because she already knew what their response would be. They wouldn't believe it. But if they explained their theory of what had happened, then at least they could say they'd been truthful, should anything get out of control. She couldn't think of what that would be, but the future was completely up in the air at this point.

  "We have to tell them," she said.

  "Like they'll believe us?"

  "I know they won't, but we still have to tell them."

  "Okay, why?"

  "Because when you have your first period, and freak out, they need to have a basis to understand why you're freaking out," she said.

  He stopped.

  "Fuck!" His jaw dropped, but then he recovered a little. "That's going to happen to me?"

  "Unless you get pregnant," she said. It was a joke, but he didn't think it was funny at all.

  "No fucking way. I'm not going out with guys. You're not going to date until this gets fixed."

  "Yes I am," she said, sweetly.

  "Not while I have control of your body," he growled.

  "I'm not talking about my body," she said. "I'm talking about yours." She smiled. It was weird, but she thought she might enjoy some aspects of being "a guy." She could do what she wanted, go where she wanted. She didn't have to worry any more about guys hassling her, or worse. She felt powerful. She raised her brother's arms and flexed them. She watched the muscles bunch and felt the power in his body.

  She thought, "I could get used to this."

  That thought was followed instantly by astonishment that she could feel good in a male body. It was insane.

  "You're not going to make me look like a faggot," he said.

  "I don't know what I'm going to do," she said. "I have no idea what's going to happen to us. That's why I think it might be a good idea if Mom and Dad know what happened, even if they don't believe it at first."

  "I think you're crazy."

  "I think you'd better be more cooperative, or I'm going to go up to Jerry Lindstrom and plant a big, wet kiss on his lips," she said, calmly.

  "Fuck!" he said, explosively.

  "And I told you to stop cursing with my mouth!" she snapped.

  She saw her image slump, and her sad face look up at her.

  "Do we really have to do this?" he asked.

  "I think so," she said. "What other option do we have?"

  "They won't be able to fix this," he moaned.

  "No, but at least they'll understand what we're going through." She sighed. "Eventually."

  *****

  When they got back, their parents were actively engaged in preparing breakfast. Today that consisted of scrambled eggs and sausage, with salsa on the side. Bananas had been laid out, and yogurt as well, as another option. Their mother looked up as they approached.

  "Better now?"

  "Yeah," they said, together.

  They looked at each other. That simple response reminded them that they were still twins. They often
said the same thing at the same time. Secretly, both were pleased by that. They had always been close, which nobody thought was unusual. The competition they had engaged in lately had more to do with adolescence and peer pressure than any real desire to lessen the bond they had always felt.

  And now, the simple act of answering together somehow made things better. They would get through this, somehow, and they'd do it together.

  Their dad stirred the eggs and moved the cast iron skillet containing them off to one side, away from the active flames. He stood up.

  "Have a seat. We're waiting."

  His meaning was obvious. They weren't waiting for breakfast to be finished cooking. They were waiting for an explanation.

  Craig looked at his sister. The fact that he was deferring to her wasn't strange, in the sense that he usually deferred to her when they had done something they were in trouble for. She was better on her feet at creative bullshitting. But it bothered him, somehow, maybe because he was in a girl's body, that he didn't step forward to take charge. He watched her ... his sister ... in his body ... preparing to do what she always did.

  Except, for their parents, it wasn't going to be what they were used to.

  "You're not going to believe what we tell you," said Carly.

  "Why don't you let us decide what we believe and don't believe," said their dad.

  "I'm just warning you that the story will seem fantastic, and unbelievable," she said. "You're going to think we're pulling a prank, or telling a tall tale, or maybe even outright lying, but everything we're about to tell you is true."

  Her mother moaned, "Oh, Jack, they really are on drugs!"

  "Be quiet, Fran. I want to hear this," said Jack.

  It struck Craig, inside his now female body, that his mother did exactly what she was told to by their father. She didn't look happy about it, but she followed his orders. It was the first time in his young life that he actually saw the dominance of a man over a woman in such a subjective way. He suddenly felt helpless. It was an unusual and somewhat terrifying feeling, and when the tears began to spill out of his eyes, he was suddenly glad he was in a female body. It was the first time in his life that he felt like crying was normal, and that nobody would make fun of him for doing it.