School of Changes

by unknown

<title by me>

I had been working part-time at the Lydia Whitson School for about 5 months. During that time I saw approximately 87 children ranging in age from 13 to 18. Most were girls. Some of those evidently weren't. I didn't know. I'm a psychologist, not a detective.

My curiosity was aroused after talking to a 15 year old boy late one Friday afternoon. He was having trouble relating to the other boys -- acted slightly effeminate but nothing you could put your finger on. He seemed genuinely confused about some of the normal male reactions to girls, almost as if he'd never had such feelings before . . . Not that he didn't like girls. Not that he didn't get a boner every time some well endowed example walked past. He just . . . He just couldn't understand the basic desire to jump one.

After he left, I did the normal poking about in his file and noticed some white-out over his name. It read "John Liebowitz." Being naturally curious, I scratched off the white-out. Now the name was different, "Joanne." "Strange", I thought. He sure looked like a John to me.

I pondered over that change for several weeks. As patients came and went, I paid careful attention to their files. Now and again I'd run across the same thing. Sometimes it was boy to girl, sometimes girl to boy. Never any correlation or reason I could see. It just seemed like someone couldn't get the names right the first time.

Then I saw the kicker. I usually made copies of a patient's file to add to those I kept myself. A rather pretty girl had come to see me over how to approach a boy she liked. I gave her the standard lines, patted her on the back and sent her on her way. Afterwards, as I was making her file, I realized I had seen her before. Except, it wasn't her, it was him -- or at least, it was him before. The age was the same, the background the same, everything the same -- except sex and few niggling details concerning appearance.

About the job. I worked simply as a helper. The school had it's own live-in shrink, doctor and other sundry personnel. I had been hired to fill in one day a week to handle those simple problems that Susan Hathaway didn't have time for.

Susan. Now there was a good looking woman. She was about 5' 8", perfect figure with a nice ass, rounded breasts and a face to match. I had tried to get her to take a night off with me with no success at all. Pity. I'm sure I would have thoroughly enjoyed myself. Anyway, I digress.

I went to see her over the matter. I really didn't know what to expect. Anger . . . disinterest . . . disbelief mingled with concern over my being overworked . . . Any or all of these I would have expected. She smiled. Just smiled a cute little smile that began at one corner of her mouth and curled slyly to the other side. A knowing, amused sort of smile.

Taken aback, I asked her, "Well, why?" She steepled her fingers and spoke betwixt the grin, "Well, why not?" "All of those children you noted were having trouble being who they were. We just simply transferred them from one dorm quad to the other." I know bullshit when I smell it, so I responded, "C'mon. You know as well as I do that you didn't just change their clothes and move them to another room. If you were going to change their sex, it would require plastic surgery and several years of training and counseling."

I paused for breath and continued, "First of all, that last girl, Susie. She was in my office five weeks before. But at that time, she wasn't a she, she was a he. Surgery doesn't work that way. I don't think it's the same person. You must be switching these people between schools." Susan smiled wider. "You are making an unfortunate assumption. Four weeks ago, Larry Hanson was moved from Quad 2, Dorm 67B to Quad 1, Dorm 19C. At that time, Larry became Susie Hanson. Got it?"

Quite frankly, I didn't. You just don't move a boy to a girl's dorm and, poof, get a girl. Or do you? Anyway, I wasn't about to go looking for Rod Serling. "Susan, you've got to level with me. I came here thinking was loosing my mind and now I'm beginning to believe it." "What is REALLY going on?"

Susan slowly untangled herself from her chair and stood. "I guess I'm going to have to give you a complete explanation." She sighed. "I just hope that you can handle it . . ." And, with that, she flowed out of the room with me, confused as ever, in tow.

On the way to Quad 1, she explained, or tried to. "Lydia Whitson founded this school back in 1822. Her primary motivation was to provide a quality education free of the social and moral double standards which existed at that time. She did that. Most of the parents never realized what she was doing. Those that did approved, or did after she 'convinced' them. Anyway, she also felt that one's sex had no more to do with their abilities than hair color, etc. She had other views along the same lines. Due to this, the school has not changed much since when she was running it. The rest of the world simply is catching up."

We were about halfway there and I had yet to guess at what she was leading up to. What she had said so far you could read in any of the school's standard press releases. "But you know all this.", she stopped at looked me in the eye. "We were going to put this off for another month but the . . ." She stopped and turned to look me in the eye. "This is not common knowledge and you must keep it to yourself. The Headmistress is retiring soon and I'll most likely be taking her place."

She paused and licked her lips, "I want you on permanent staff here to replace me." Now, that was interesting. I had entertained the possibility of working here full-time but I knew I needed to complete my doctorate first. Of course, my thesis was already accepted but . . . "Now don't make up your mind now. I want you to think about it. And, for God's sake, don't tell anyone -- I haven't been officially appointed yet."

She walked on off to the Quad while I headed in the opposite direction for my car. It never occurred to me that she had totally evaded what I had gone to ask her of. As a matter of fact, I completely forgot the issue.

Two months later I had the 'PhD' after my name. Not that it did me any favors. I continued my weekly visits to the school and waited for job offers. I didn't get any. Then it was announced that Susan would be taking over the running of the school and, sure to her word, I was offered her job. I took it. It was there.

After six weeks Susan dropped in. "Why don't you move on campus? Not that it matters, but surely you get tired of the drive every day?" Yes, I did. But I replied, "Nah. It's no bother. I enjoy it. Besides, I like to crank up the stereo once in a while and I'd bother someone." Susan said, "Suit yourself -- just offering. By the way, have you talked to the Johnson kid yet?" So we talked shop.

Over the next three weeks I was inundated by after hour calls. Driving back and forth and back and forth sure was getting old. I finally took Susan's offer and packed up the old apartment. No, I didn't crank my stereo there, the neighbors would have complained. But it just wouldn't be the same . . .

Susan profusely apologized when she put me in Quad 1. "I'm so sorry that the house isn't ready. When you refused the offer, I decided to go ahead and remodel it." Sure, sure, I thought. Just want me at your beck and call -- forget about the inconvenience. "I'm giving you my old quarters until the house is finished. Should be only a couple of more weeks. Besides, you might like it here where the girls are . . ." She winked at me and left as I unpacked what would fit. The rest I left in boxes in hope for the house.

I had trouble sleeping. Always did like my own bed. So I laid listening to the silence punctuated by occasional laughter in the distance. Just when I was about to drop off there was a sudden flurry of knocking on the door. Too sleepy to think, I answered it in the buff. Susan just grinned at me.

"Ooops. I thought you'd still be awake. It's not quite 2 yet." I succeeded in grumbling a reply, "Not quite. Go away." "Nope. Sorry. I forgot to show you around. Want a shower?" Yes, I did. And it occurred to me that there was no bathroom in the quarters I'd been given. Kinda stupid not to notice but I was feeling kinda stupid.

"C'mon. I'll show you where." It finally dawned on me that I was not wearing any clothes and I let a slow blush come to my face. Susan caught the gist of my embarrassment and quickly added, "The girls are all asleep and I'll run you to the showers. Don't worry about being seen but you might want to grab a robe, just in case." I did.

I needn't have worried, the showers were just down the hall and to the left. We didn't see a soul. Susan stripped as I hung up my robe. Boy! Did she have a body! Her breasts were smooth and creamy with upturned nipples hardening as I watched. I let my gaze drop towards her dark triangle of fur and my cock quickly stiffened at the thoughts of burying it there. She insisted that we shower first and turned up the water until the room was wreathed in steam. I followed her example and got under the needling spray.

We caressed each other, soaped up, rinsed off, soaped up and rinsed off some more. I was particularly enjoying playing with her nipples when I noticed that my own nipples were responding to her touch as well. The feeling was incredible as she stroked my chest and teased my growing nipples. Then she hugged me close and caressed my thighs and hips. My erection had been replaced by a tightening of my stomach and building warmth within. This was better sex than I had ever had and I hadn't even entered her yet!

We kissed deeply for what seemed like hours. When we broke for air she descended my front, nibbling her way towards my crotch. My eyes were closed and my hands were on her head as she found a spot I never noticed before and gave me the most intense orgasm of my life. Then I felt her stick a finger up inside of me and I knew it wasn't my ass! With the orgasm's afterglow still coursing through my veins, I opened my eyes and took a quick inventory. My head was still here. My arms. My legs. My cock . . . I didn't see it. I couldn't feel it. My skin had gotten smooth and silky and I had two curious mounds of flesh attached to my chest.

Susan stepped back as I explored. The breasts felt nice. The nipples stiffened and gave pleasurable sensations as I touched them. My crotch. God, my cock was missing! I felt below the hair and found new folds of moist flesh. I parted them with a finger and slid the finger up inside me. What a different feeling this was! I stroked my finger in and out, then added another. It actually felt quite good. Then Susan wrapped her arms around me and I felt our breasts rubbing together. I let her eat my new found cunt again and found myself moaning with ecstacy, a couple of octaves higher than I could before.

Being in the shower, we only had to dry off before returning to my room. Once we were there, Susan explained, "Lydia Whitson was a witch. A very strong and powerful one. She thought that, if people could choose their sex at will, it would remove a strong handicap from social relationships." She stroked one of my nipples. "Every student and every employee here has tried the other sex. Some have chosen to switch. Some others change back and forth quite a bit. I myself spent 2 years as a man."

I looked over my body. It was certainly interesting. Had someone suggested that I become a woman, I would have kicked them where it hurt. But now . . .

Susan paused at my introspection. "If I had told you earlier, you would have scoffed. You would have thought me mad. Maybe I am, a little, but you are proof that it does not require surgery and I am so sorry that I had to blank your mind before." The prior incident came flooding back and I thought it over. "You don't have to remain like this. You can go into the showers and emerge anyway you like."

I looked up at her. "The showers?" "Yes.", she replied. "The showers are spelled so that one's physical appearance is malleable. Look at me. I was dark headed when we went in. Now I'm blond. You did that to me." I looked again and she was right. Her pussy was now framed by pretty blond fur. "Another thing. This is not the girl's quad, it is unisex. Both quads have both sexes. It can get interesting in the showers sometimes . . ." I grinned at that. I'd sure say so!

She got up. "I've got to go and get some sleep. Take the next couple of days off and experiment. Sex among the students is not forbidden, its encouraged -- but don't develop any relationships. That is a no no." And she left.

I spent most of the night exploring my new body. I discovered a little lump of flesh at the top of my slash which drove me to incredible pleasure. I explored the lips and probed my hole with my fingers. After a couple of orgasms, I brought them up, smelled and tasted them. Smells like fish, must be fish. I found I tasted good, just like a woman should. I finally fell asleep caressing my breasts and wondering how I'd look in a bikini.

The next day I went to the Resident's room in search of some clothes. The door was opened by a tall black man wearing nothing but a towel draped over his shoulder. "I've got a few things myself but I was going to wear one tonight." He pointed towards the shower and I nodded. "First time out?" he asked. "Yeah, Susan put me through it last night." "Nothing like the first time. I remember it. I would have never thought I could be a man and now I spend most of my time as one." "Really", I asked. "Sure." He paused and looked me over. "You know, you make a nice woman. Virgin, huh?"

A movement caught my eye and I looked down to see an erection building. And building, and building. Curiously, it brought forth strange feelings from me. I felt my nipples stiffening and a nice warm feeling down below. "Ever given head?", he asked. I blushed, prettily, I might add. "No, I can't say that I have." "There's a first time for everything. Want to try?"

Seeing his engorged cock in front of me was driving me insane. Somewhere deep inside was this growing desire to have it inside of me and I noticed my pussy was getting damp. "Come on in," he invited and I followed thinking that it was my line. He reached over and untied my robe so I let it drop to the floor and eyed his cock. "Go ahead, touch it. It won't bite you and it LOVES to be stroked." So, I touched it. And touched it. And, with a little encouragement, I finally touched it to my lips. He groaned as I circled it with my tongue and, growing brave or, rather, super horny, I took it into my mouth.

We got on his bed and quickly into a 69. His cock throbbed as I slurped and sucked and I moaned as he curled his tongue about my clit and probed my cunt with his fingers. Then we disengaged and I spread my legs for my first ever fuck. He them down to my chest placing his hands beside me. Then he gently guided his cock into my hole, which was so wet it went in easily. I started involuntarily bucking my hips as he began fucking me hard and harder. I moaned. I screamed. I came. Once. Twice. Three, four, five times! Now that was a fuck! He had come with me the last time and was totally spent.

Since we were both exhausted, we just laid there and gently caressed each other. "Yeah. You make a fine woman and damn incredible fuck." I couldn't help but smile. I was beginning to enjoy this.

After awhile, we took a shower. This time it was full of people and I got to watch several change. Some went sex, some race and some just skin, eye or hair color. Some went all of the above. I saw two guys, obviously very good friends, soap each other up as they both became gorgeous oriental girls. Looking at all of this and daydreaming, I emerged looking like a 14 year old Geisha in training. Young I could handle, but I didn't like having slanted eyes. So, I took another shower.

It's strange how quickly you can become accustomed to the strangest things. Within a few days, nothing I witnessed in the shower suprized me. Once, an American Indian woman came in and left as a green haired hermaphrodite and hung like a horse. That I hadn't seen before. Whatever floats your boat, I guess. I myself experimented with different sized breasts, different hair, and, as a male of course, different sized cocks.

Several months later, I was sitting at my desk when Susan came by. "Nice dress," he complemented. "Nice suit," I replied. "Going to see someone outside?" "Nope. Just thought I'd freak everyone out today. How about you? What happened to that revealing halter-top and cutoffs you've been getting famous for?" "Oh. I just figured I'd try to look respectable. I've got to be in practice. We've got Parents visiting next week, you know." He sighed in response, "Don't remind me. I was just starting to forget."

He leaned over and caressed my hair. "What are you doing tonight?" "Well, I hoped you'd tell me," I replied as I got up. I gave him a quick kiss as I switched off the terminal and led him out the door and back to my now familiar room at the quad. Once we lost our clothes, he cupped my chocolate brown skin and nibbled a dark nipple. I retaliated by sucking his cock and imprisoning it within my now moistened pussy. It was good. I like my job. Nice fringe benefits and really hot showers . . . Who knows? Maybe tomorrow I'll try green hair. Then, again, maybe not.

School of Changes copyright 1996 by unknown.