My first test with an audience

Each time I learn something about the device, it feels like I'm remembering something I already knew. That's how it felt when I realised what I was doing wrong.

By now I was a little obsessed with just figuring out myself as a woman, like. It seemed crucial if I was going to use the device for other things. I wanted to get comfortable in that other skin. But I came to realise that the switch only for as long as it takes reality to find its way back to 'normal'... with me as the epicentre of the change from the default.

The problem I had, was that I was keeping the scenario simple, and I wasn't interacting with anyone. For the switch to take longer to undo, I needed either a bigger change from the default, or I needed the change to affect how people interacted with me. Ideally, both.

In short, I needed to switch with someone around. And I wasn't for doing the American sitcom thing, of pretending to be two different people who somehow were never in the room at the same time. Only thing was that I had no idea how long these switches would last, even if I got them longer. So I needed to find someone who wouldn't freak all the way out when I changed gender in front of them.

I have an old friend. Not my closest friend, but the one whose outlook is the most progressive, the most flexible of everyone I know. I gambled on him being as progressive as I imagined.

Greg said he'd arrive about 9pm. It was 10:15pm when he arrived. I expected no different though.

"John," Greg said with a slight croak. "It's been too long, man," he added with a gentle hug.

I felt a bit guilty. There was a reason it had been a while. I liked Greg, but his life was in a long rut shaped like a spliff. I used to enjoy a good shmoke myself, but I'd gradually left that life behind over the last couple of decades. Today however, Greg's credentials in taking things easy made him the man of the hour.

"Come on in," I tell him.

His slightly worry beard smelled lightly of skunk. "Nice place you got, John," he said. He was being a bit generous: I work at a library, after all. Though in fairness, his abode might be still more modest. I waved him in to the living room, where he took a seat on the couch.

"What do you want on your pizza?" I asked. Despite the late hour, I hadn't had dinner yet. Earlier in the evening I was absorbed in trying to work with the device. After I stopped in frustration and realised I needed company, I decided to hold off to have pizza with Greg. I'd had a snack of course -- I knew Greg well enough to know he'd be slow coming -- but it seemed a nice thing to do for auld lang syne.

Over the phone, Greg had said that pizza was a great idea. He hadn't gotten around to dinner either, which didn't surprise me. He isn't the sort of guy who had a very structured schedule, or who made plans that would prevent a last-minute get together.

"Oh, you know me," he said. "Anything veg, hold the cheese. You get whatever you like."

I placed the order, and went to sit on the chair opposite Greg. He smiled a gentle, warm smile.

"It's good to see you, John," he said. "But if you'll forgive me... I sense that you've asked me here because of some occasion. What's up?"

Greg might be a stoner, but he was no fool. I knew I wouldn't be able to hide my tense anticipation, but I also wasn't usually the kind of person to invite people over for dinner alone at the last minute. This was his way of gently nudging me to talk about whatever had spurred me to ask him over.

"Fair enough," I said. "Greg, I've asked you to come, basically because you're the most open-minded and accepting person that I know. I've recently discovered something, that's led to me experimenting with who I am. It's something I think that I need to share with someone, and I thought of you."

Greg seemed quite touched. He smiled a warm, familial smile. "John, I'm honoured," he said. I could have sworn that I saw his eyes twinkle, though I didn't know why just then. "I know we haven't been as much in touch the past few years, but I'm happy to help. Whatever it is, I'm listening."

He had no idea exactly what was in store. It didn't matter: I smiled, and continued. I fished the device from my pocket.

"I found this... thing, this morning," I said. I held it out for him to look at, my pinched fingers holding it tight. Greg furrowed his brow very slightly, and leaned forward to peer at it.

"Okay," he said, clearly a bit confused, but still listening. "That... looks a bit funny, with the colours," he notices.

"Yeah," I nod. I pull back my hand, and Greg sits back. "It's actually some sort of device. Maybe it's simpler to call it a magic stone. I can use it to change the world, but whatever I do with it, it will change my gender."

Greg's brow furrows. "John... Are you feeling well?"

I nod in acknowledgement. "I know how this sounds, Greg."

Greg nods. "Okay, that's good. Just to be sure though, because I want to help you as well as I can, can you tell me if you've taken any interesting **** recently?"

From someone else, this could have been snark. From Greg, it isn't even banter. I'm not the most adventurous friend he has, but I've been there when his more adventurous friends were also around, and 'interesting ****' were indeed part of the equation. He's being careful.

"I promise that I'm completely sober," I tell Greg. "I guess you can help me confirm whether I'm of sound mind."

Greg nods his head deeply. "Alright," he says. "I'm glad we're on the same page there. So... what have you used it for?"

I smiled ruefully. "Well, so far nothing, really. As you might imagine, the whole gender-switch thing is a bit of a big deal."

Greg nods slowly. "That would definitely give me pause."

"So for now," I continued, "I've just been using it to see what it's like to be a woman. It's a bit of an adjustment, and I think I need to try to get accustomed to it if I want to use it for anything else."

Greg nods gently, almost patiently. "I can understand that line of thought."

"The problem is, it only seems to last a few minutes if I'm on my own. I think I need to have someone to interact with while I'm gender-switched, for it to last longer than that."

I was sure that I sounded absolutely bonkers, and that Greg was humouring me. But if Greg felt any irritation, or if he thought I'd gone completely loopy, it never showed. He was just listening. With nerves like that, he could live like a king playing professional poker, or be a really good secondary school teacher. (If those sorts of careers didn't have sides to them that put him off, obviously.) This, of course, was part of why I'd thought of him. Greg could be infinitely patient if you treated him with respect.

"Am I right in thinking," Greg guessed, "that this is where I come in?"

"That's right, Greg," I replied.

Greg sat back in the sofa. "Alright," he said. "Is there anything in particular you'd like for me to do?"

I shook my head. "Just talk with me," I told him. "I... know how ridiculous this all sounds, Greg, but I think I needed to tell you all that. I think now I should use the 'stone', so you can see what I mean."

Greg raised his eyebrows slightly. "Okay. Let's see what we're working with then. I'm watching."

"It takes a minute," I say. "I need to focus on the change."

I hold the stone, and picture being the blond woman from the mirror.

After a moment I come to myself again. I'm still wearing the same clothes, but with the addition of the same bra as I had in the library. I expected that I might also be wearing the black panties instead of my boxers, but this didn't seem the time to verify directly. In any case, whatever underwear I was wearing, it fit pretty closely.

I saw Greg blink in confusion, and then matched my gaze. "I feel like I lost a fraction of a second, there," he said. He peered slightly at me. "Did something happen?"

I looked at my hands, my arms. Even these were a little smaller, slimmer, and my hairs paler and more fine. I looked down at my chest and reflexively cupped my hands over my breasts. Yes, I had changed.

I looked to Greg with confused skepticism. "You don't see any difference," I said.

Greg shook his head gently. "No, I don't."

I furrowed my brow. I look to catch my reflection in a darkened window. "Not even the hair?" I ask, incredulous.

Greg raised his eyebrows slightly. "I don't know what to tell you... er..." He blinks a long blink. "Er..." He chuckles at himself. "You're not going to believe this, but somehow I've managed to completely blank on your name."

This was a bit hard to believe. It had been a little while since I last talked to Greg, but he was never the sort to completely lose touch with reality. He certainly still seemed tonight like the wise elder hippy, that seemed to have been his career choice at University. I couldn't believe that he didn't see.

Blanking on my name didn't seem a good sign either, but if I'm honest, I do that sort of thing all the time. "It's John," I told him with mock impatience.

Greg frowned at me comically. "Come on, lady. I might like to smoke a bit, but I think I'd remember if your name were John."

My eyes shot wide, and my hairs stood on end. "Did you just call me a lady?"

Greg stopped a moment. "Should I not? I think you've been one as long as I've known you," he said.

My mind raced. Unless Greg was having me on, the switch seemed to change his perception of me enough that he thought I'd always been a woman.

Greg sat forward. "You look really spooked. Sorry if I said something that shocked you. Are you okay, um..." Greg breathed in very slowly through his nose, as if willing himself to remember a name different from what I'd told him.

I didn't want to **** him, and it seemed fitting to use a different name anyway. I thought that I might as well keep it simple.

"Joan," I told him. It felt right: I did sound like a Joan.