Trying it at home

The next time I tried it was at home.

I did the obvious thing. I got completely undressed and looked myself in the mirror.

I'm not the fittest person, but I run routinely... so I was not an embarrassing sight to see. All the tackle, as it were, was in the usual place as well. It felt a little strange to see it now, though. It seemed a bit more... contingent than it had been before.

I picked up the device, and took its suggestion of a simple change once more. I focused for a minute on making the change.

Suddenly there was a naked woman in the mirror: not the slimmest, but reasonably proportioned. She stood suddenly at attention, as if something had startled her. Her breasts jiggled with slightly rosy nipples, a noticeably bigger than mine were. Than mine usually were.

The woman stared at me, and then raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question. She traced a hand down her face to her collar bone, to the curve of her breast.

I followed along. My breath caught when I felt the curve of my breast: not from the sensation but from a sudden realisation. I hadn't known, not consciously, that I had wanted to have breasts.

But in fact, that want was dependent on something else having changed. I now knew that I felt that change without using my hand. Still: I traced a hand gently down my belly... and watched as the woman more carefully and delicately felt at the join between her legs.

It felt alien. I'd felt more than a few vulvas before, of course, but none of them had been between my own legs.

I stood there, delicately touching my folds, until suddenly I was fondling my scrotum instead. I almost missed the sudden change back when it happened: it took half a second to recognise. It was very matter-of-fact. For another half a second I wanted to retch. Then I was fine.

This was ridiculous. I wanted more than three minutes at a time, for the amount of effort it took to focus.

The device suggested a way. If I made more changes, the switch would last longer.

I considered. How would I look with blond hair? I visualised it.

Soon the same woman was looking at me, but her short, boyish hair was very pale. The carpet matched the drapes as well. I think it suited her quite well. Her nipples perked up a little as I looked at her. She smiled a crooked smile at me.

I watched her reach down between her legs again.

I decided then to flop onto the bed and look to the ceiling. Whatever I was up to, I didn't want to become an autoerotic narcissist. I laid on the bed and explored.

Five minutes later, I was back again.

I needed to make some bigger change.