Ski Lessons from Jamal

You clomp over to the duffel with your gear in your boots. The inside glows pink with your helmet, mittens and goggles. Everything is bright pink.

“Wow, girl pink…” you say. You’re going to stand out like a tiny little sex beacon. “You checked this shit is safe with a Geiger counter right? I mean I don’t want to suddenly mutate into a four foot tall huge breasted slut…”

“That already happened!” Jokes Kate.

“It’s all perfectly safe Princess,” Jo laughs. “I can’t believe I wanted to wear all that…”

“Hah, that’s fucking hilarious!” Mark observes. “She’ll be drawing everyone’s attention!”

The thick pink mittens that Jo bought perfectly match the suit. You’re not a fan of mittens. They are not as utilitarian as gloves and reduce your hands to useless appendages. And pink. They will go on last.

You adjust the mirrored bright pink goggles over the equally bright pink ski helmet, pulling the helmet’s goggle strap over the goggle band. You pause. “Is this right?” You ask Jo. It looks right but you’re not so sure.

“Yep, good job!” Jo congratulates you. It’s annoying. You’re the one the is meant to know this shit but you don’t have access to the knowledge. Swaps are not perfect but they are fully reversible fortunately.

You put the helmet on over your pig tails. It’s a snug fit. You feel like an advertisement for sex toys, a ridiculously glowing, impossible to ignore ski bunny.

“Um Jo, can you help me with the mittens…” you ask, holding your hands out.

Jo rolls his eyes and puts on one glove then the other. He studies you critically then reaches forward and unzips the top of your jacket to expose the lush valley of your cleavage. “Perfect.”

You look down and have to admit the cleavage completes the bimbo look. Your pussy approves with a little moist tingle. “Won’t my breasts get cold?!” You worry. Exhibitionism in Jo’s body is scary but kindof… hot.

He shakes his head. “It’s a perfect sunny day out there. No wind. Not a cloud in site. They groomed early this morning and so you should be fine - no powder to trip you up … you didn’t put on sunscreen, did you?”

“Oh shit…” You look down at your mittens and shrug helplessly.

“Ok. Do it in the Gondola on your first run,” Jo offers.

Jo passes you his poles and yours and shoulders his and your skis like they weigh nothing. Your old body’s strength makes the act look effortless much to your chagrin. “I can carry them!” You protest. Your arms are weak and you both know it.

Jo just laughs. “Nah, Princess. You’re much too girly and delicate for that now. Let a real man handle it.”

The words hit like a slap and shame floods you. Arousal follows in the shames wake, hot, immediate and pooling low in your belly. You were the one who used to haul both your ski’s about, Jo trailing like some dependant trophy. Now you’re the petite, busty thing who can’t even carry her own skis. Your pussy clenches hard at the humiliation and fresh slick seeps against the suit’s lining. Good thing the suit is water proof.

Outside, the Village is quiet. Fresh snow blankets everything. Eight feet fell overnight and drifts are piled high against storefronts. The sun is out, bright and warm on your face turning the powder snow into glittering sugar.

Almost everything is shut. The lift tickets office is closed, coffee shops, pizzerias, waffle house and the bar are dark. The gondola is running and it looks like they had to dig out the bottom station. You hear explosions in the distance.

“Avalanche control is working over time,” Mark says. “This is going to be an epic powder day. Pity you won’t be there to enjoy it pet,” he swats your rounded ass in your suit. You blush.

A single plow rumbles somewhere far off, but the road into town is empty.

“I checked the snow report. The main highway up from the valley is closed off. There was an avalanche last night and the road is impassable. Even worse the road needs major repairs. The avalanche risk remains too high, the snow being too fucking deep to start repairs. No staff or skiers are coming in from outside the village today or tomorrow it seems,” Mark says as he puts his phone away. “Could not be better! All this powder is ours for the next two days!”

You nod feeling jealous. You could be in your body out in this! Instead you’re a weak beginner!

The Swap Joint also sits dark and closed when it should be open. No staff means no techs and no swap reversals. You were supposed to swap back tonight. From Jackie back to Jack. Back to broad shoulders and a cock and no constant dripping ache. But if the road remains closed until tomorrow or longer… if the plows can’t break through. “Fuck me…”

“Later Princess,” Jo says as he stares at the shut Swap Joint and then snorts. “Ah. Hah. That’s funny. Looks like you’re stuck in my body for the duration - at least until the road opens. That could be a while…”

Mark laughs at your ill fortune. “Ah how sweet the Schadenfreude. Trapped as a nympho slut for the foreseeable future. Don’t worry pet, I’ll fuck you!”

Kate also finds amusement. “Wonder how long the road will be shut for. Could be a few days or even a week! We are going to have so much fun!”

You consider the forty eight hours - minimum - trapped as a tiny, needy woman in perpetual heat. The libido pill still rages, making every step in the snow a sensual torment. The suit is literally rubbing your now erect clit, your heavy breasts are bouncing, nipples clearly outlined in the chill air and, sadly, your pussy is clenching at nothing.

Jo walks ahead, carrying your skis over one shoulder like a trophy. “Slow down guys! I can’t walk that fast!” You trail behind them uselessly, struggling in your unfamiliar boots and body, goggles fogging slightly with your exertions. Mark and Kate pause to flank you, Kate’s hand occasionally brushing your ass through the suit, Mark chuckling when you stumble in the deep snow.

“Careful, pet,” Mark says. “Wouldn’t want you falling on that pretty pink ass before the lesson.”

Your shame coils tighter and hotter and wetter. Walking through the quiet village like a tiny sex doll on parade, too weak to carry your own gear, stuck in this body with this unnatural hunger for who knows how long? Your thighs are slick inside the suit and you can feel it with every stride. Horny. Humiliated. Helpless.

You reach the base of the Big Easy where the instructors await their classes.

Jamal is already there. You’d arranged the private lesson for Jo yesterday before the swap and had talked briefly with him, explaining Jo’s issues. At the time he’d seemed unremarkable to you. Not so now. He looks handsome as fuck. He towers after your now, standing at six three, his skin is a captivating midnight black, he is lean and muscular and he must be well hung.

Please let him be well hung… his instructor jacket open revealing a torso clearly defined by his thermal underwear. He is waiting in the empty corral where he looks up to see your pink suit. His eyes linger on your exposed cleavage and he grins appreciatively. Then he sees Jo carrying your skis, the way you’re flushed, breathing fast. His eyes darken with slow amusement.

“Morning, you must be Jo,” he says, voice deep and smooth. “It’s just us. A private snow-plow lesson. Let’s get you in those skis.”

Jo drops your skis at your feet, casual and dismissive.

“She’s all yours,” he tells Jamal. “I warn you, she rather foolishly took a libido pill last night and my little princess would really appreciate a good fucking, but try not to break her too fast.”

“They don’t call this run the big easy for nothing…” Jamal says.

“Maybe that’s what we should call Jo. Easy…” Mark suggests.