Sunday, August 9, 2009

My recent thoughts got me to get back onto the dating site again. I updated my profile to explain I was now a splitter who kept male and female bodies around all the time, and I was looking for a woman who could love both of me and would bear my children. That was the original intent of my splitting and staying in opposite sexes, and I felt it was important to find somebody quickly so I didn’t get addicted to sex with my other self.

I was still going to the counseling, though only the one of me who was Stacy at the time went, which has been me for the last month. I wasn’t going to stop that until I had established a relationship with another woman and felt confident I could continue going through dates with her. Today, together with Kelly I looked at a few matches it suggested, but didn’t feel they were great matches. The fourth one that came up was named Brenda, and it wasn’t the same woman but the name gave us both a panic attack.

This confirmed I still needed the counseling. I need to be able to ignore what happened to me, make it history. That Brenda was dead due to her own stupidity, and I had to keep telling myself there was no reason to believe any other woman, just because she resembled Brenda or had the same first name, would act that way. There was even less reason to expect it than before, since the story was publicized. People knew now, much more than they did before, that in order for stem cells to help you at all, they needed to be your own or those of a full sibling, parent, or child. And people should already have known, but had another opportunity to learn, that all the stem cells from one switcher were too many for one person to take inside them by any means. If somebody stole from me, while I was switching, an amount of cells someone might actually use for something, assuming they even could, it would just make me come out a little smaller.

I spent some time watching the news stories that had been presented about the incident. One show even shared the grim result that would have occurred if she had tried to take my cells via her vagina. This was pretty gross and preceded by a content warning. [The content in this story runs to the next date header.] Her uterus would have swelled up like she was pregnant, but the uterus and skin cannot grow fast enough, so when she was stretched tight, the stem cells would have forced their way through her fallopian tubes, widening them into twin hoses, letting the stem cells run free in the internal spaces between the organs. She would have suffocated a few minutes after this, once the stem cells inside her didn’t leave enough room for her to take breaths.

But that was not the end of it. There were still stem cells flooding in, and they would have collapsed the lungs, ultimately inverting them and pushing them out of her body through the mouth, inflating them like balloons, and ultimately bursting them. There would have been stem cells flowing out through her mouth and the busted lungs, and other stem cells leaking from her vagina. Realistically, the result would probably have been very much the same as what actually happened to her, but the inversion of the lungs - a step that only happened after she was dead - made it seem more gruesome. And they said a woman had once committed suicide by sticking a garden hose up her vagina and turning it on full force, and much the same thing happened including the inversion and ultimate bursting of the lungs.

I had to stop at that point and the two of us played some games to take our mind off that.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

It was mix-and-split day again. I started as female Stacy, and Kelly and I perched ourselves on opposite corners of our big bucket again. I had a funny thought I shared with Kelly: In old men’s rooms from the 1950s or earlier, they sometimes had a long trough that men peed into instead of the now-customary single urinals. No privacy shields; three or four men would stand in the space of two urinals and all pee into the same fixture. And there was constant a slow drip of water to clean it out. When I was a boy, I saw a couple of these before they all got modernized. Of course, Kelly had the same memory, but I brought it up because this process reminded me of it.

Actually, if we could have gotten one of those, it might have worked for us. It might be about the right size. We could straddle it at opposite ends, maybe even mount two toilet seats on it, which the person who formed inside could lift up to get out. But I’d have to find another place to put it; it’d be too much to lift that in and out of the tub. I’d have to make a permanent space just for our mix-and-splits. One of those large spa-like tubs might provide enough space. And I’d seal the drain permanently, or at least install one of those plugs in the drain where you flip the lever to close it.

As we were peeing ourselves out into this plastic trash can, we realized the idea had problems. We’d had to clean it out, because dust accumulated everywhere, in addition to the grime from our own bodies and the rejected crystalline junk. If the inner tub was permanently mounted into the outer one, it’d be hard to clean the outer one. Maybe if the toilet seats were mounted on the outside tub, but we put a long plastic one inside it we could remove for cleaning? Did they make a suitable tub? I thought about baby tubs, but I thought they’d be too small. Something to look up after the change was completed.

I came out female this time, and my other half came out male, so I was now Kelly again. My strongest memories were of being Stacy the last 5 weeks, and the ones before that were all mixed together. I’d been in counseling for two months straight, so it was good my other half was going to get the chance.

That night we started looking at matches again, but it was only a short while before Stacy begged me to stop, so I decided to wait until she had some counseling sessions.

Friday, December 11, 2009

I was Kelly two splits in a row (9 weeks), and then became Stacy the last five weeks, and during this session Kelly and I were both able to look at potential dates together. After looking through them for a week without officially turning our status to available, we did that, and after looking through them for another week, we decided on two to contact, and one of them wrote us back and we had our first date tonight.

Kira was enthused by our double nature.

“I love being double-penetrated, but it’s hard finding partners who are willing to share me.”

“We always keep one body male and one female.”

“Oh, that’s no problem. When I do find willing partners, it’s often straight couples looking for something different, and I provide a strap-on.”

This first date didn’t have sex; we agreed to a getting-to-know-each-other first date, and the one with sex would happen in two weeks. There was plenty of sexy talk, though. I was glad she had a house and not an apartment, because it meant it was a lot less likely someone would hear our very frank sexual discussion through the walls. We had non-sexy talk, though, too.

“Before all this happened a few years ago, I was a male programmer named Clint. I actually am still known as Clint to most of the world, regardless of whether they are seeing the male or female me, and at work I’m always Clint. Only the people there who needed to know it know that I’ve split. We use the Kelly and Stacy identities privately to sort out our two selves. Kelly is always the one taking the work role, and Stacy is the homemaker. We mix-and-split on a weekend once a month or so, so we aren’t stuck in those roles and eventually we’ll both remember everything that happens to either of us.”

I knew from her profile that Kira was a lawyer, and my one fear was that she was going to be too much of a domineering type, but then she described herself to me in a way that removed that fear entirely.

“I know what I want, but I do my dominating in the courtroom. Especially after a day in court, I want nothing more than a strong partner to take control. Preferably two partners, as I mentioned.”

We had this date at her place because she knew she had an office day today when we planned it and she could get out at a known time. Court days were different; she never knew if a court session was going to run until 2 or 7. As a result, we planned the date two weeks from now at my house, and if she had to she would drive there straight from the court.

Friday, December 18, 2009

I became Kelly again the day after our first date, so I was female today. I would be the first one of us to wear the strap-on.

Kira had called on her way out of the courthouse, telling us she would be here in 20 minutes, and it was almost exactly that when she arrived at 5:54. I was watching from a window while Kira took a small bag from the trunk and then came to the door.

We had agreed to keep it simple, and just order pizza since we would only know when she was going to be available 20 minutes before she could get here, and so no sooner had she gotten inside and kicked off her high heels than the doorbell rang again and it was the pizza. A single large pizza with breadsticks, Kira said any toppings but anchovies and so Stacy had ordered sausage and black olives.

So we sat down for a pizza and Coke dinner first, and when the last slice was eaten we started the sexy talk. I had to try some things out to see just how she actually wanted it, but it sounded like she wanted to be dominated, at least a little. So I started us off by asking, “Kira, are you ready to get fucked?”

“Am I ever!” Kira responded.

“No, you’re not! You need to get out of that fancy suit first!”

Kira didn’t argue, and immediately started stripping. I showed her where she could hang up the suit in the hall closet, while Stacy cleared off the dinner table. In a couple minutes, she was wearing nothing over her body briefer, one of the kinds of garments I’d had to learn about later in life when I first turned female. This was a one-piece women’s undergarment that combined a bra with a tight-fitting section around the waist and hips, meant to make the body look slimmer and to present a certain type of figure. In this case, I’m sure it was meant to give her the type of figure her suit was designed for. There were variations that went down over the thighs as well, but Kira was wearing one that looked more like panties at the bottom, just reaching the widest part of the hips at the sides, and with a lot of lace all over.

“Do you always wear such sexy lingerie under your business suit?” I asked her while Stacy and I stripped.

“Usually I wear a more conservative garment of this sort, but I knew I was coming here for sex afterward, so I wore this one today.”

I had never needed such a thing; the change always gave me a body I was comfortable with. But I had taken the time to learn about every kind of women’s garment just to make sure I didn’t ever end up looking stupid by not knowing something I should. So I wasn’t surprised at all when Kira unhooked her garment at the bottom and pulled down the panties she had under it.

We engaged in a bit of foreplay, and ultimately Kira’s body briefer came all the way off, leaving her completely nude. Kira called for a brief stop. She opened the Ziploc bag she brought in, which contained the strap-on, a small bottle of lube, and some condoms, and helped me put on the mock penis. After this, Stacy and I took control.

“Come on, Stacy, let’s get her up on the bed.”

I bent down and grabbed Kira’s legs, and Stacy understood and held Kira by her armpits so we could pick her up off the ground and carry her to our bed. And yes, the full size bed was a bit small for the three of us, but it worked. Stacy put on a condom and the provided lube and carefully worked his dick into Kira’s ass, while I didn’t need any lube on the dildo to get it into Kira’s now dripping-wet pussy. Once we established a rhythm, we really pounded Kira, but it seemed she loved it.

After about 15 minutes, Stacy came, and we took a break. I switched around and started fucking Kira’s ass. After he cleaned up, Stacy had Kira blow him to get him set up for her pussy, and then he put on a new condom and we were both in her again. Stacy held off a bit longer before coming this time, but when he finally did, we ended the session.

“Thanks, you two. That was really, really good,” Kira said.

“This was not the way I am used to treating a woman, but I found I was able to do it and enjoy it,” Stacy commented.

“The vibrator in that strap-on is pretty awesome, too,” I added.

“Ha ha! How many orgasms did you have?” Stacy asked me.

“Oh, I lost count even before I switched to Kira’s ass.”

“I think we have a winning team here,” Kira commented.

“Just one thing,” I interjected. “The sex is great, but you should know from our profile we are looking for someone to bear our children. At least one child. The switching every day keeps us from doing it. And I’m worried it would interfere with your career.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Being a lawyer is intense, but we have built-in breaks. After every 3 years of the kind of duty I am doing, we require all of our lawyers to take a year of light duty. Office work only, research for cases but not dealing with clients directly and no court time. Possibly mentoring new hires. Three other female lawyers at my firm have used these years to have kids. And while bearing a child comes with its own intensities, it worked for them to provide a break from the court duty.”

“Then I guess we keep doing this!” Stacy cheered.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Holiday events and work issues kept Kira from having another date with us for a month, and today was the first time she could do it. We’d asked about weekend dates, but Kira told us, “Bridge.”

At the start of this date, I asked for an explanation of the bridge.

“I’m a competitive bridge player. Been playing since college.”

“And you keep that up, with lawyering and all?”

“I have had to cancel tournament attendances more than once for a case, but usually I manage to be there for Steph.”

“Steph?”

“College roommate, she taught me bridge, and out of all the other players we played with there, when she started trying tournaments senior year, I was the one she wanted for a partner. She’s an accountant down in The City, and there are so many bridge clubs there, there’s usually a tournament every weekend. Sometimes we go to Philly, Boston, or somewhere else. There’s one in New Haven every year. It usually takes up my whole Saturday and then Sunday I have to get other stuff done.”

“So how long have you been playing bridge with her?”

“Counting the years we played in college, 11 years. She got her CPA while I was in law school, and there was a short time we weren’t playing, but we kept in touch, and when she got a job in The City, she asked if I was available to partner with her at a tournament her first Saturday there, and we’ve been doing it ever since.”

“Did you ever try her as a sex partner?”

“We did once in a while, like most of the girls did, but she wasn’t actually all that much into girls and she couldn’t really satisfy me.”

“Like most of the girls?”

“Oh, you were a guy in college. You didn’t know because of the gay taboo. But almost all the girls in college try some kind of sex with their roommates at least once, and half of them do it any weekend neither roommate has a date. At least at our college it was like that; I can’t guarantee it happens at every college, but I’ve seen no evidence to the contrary. It was less than that for us, and never since we graduated. She married a veterinarian. He doesn’t play bridge, but satisfies her sexually.”

“All right, dinner’s here. You tell me more about how all the girls in college are closet Lesbians while we eat.”

And she did... including the other 10 girls she had sex with while she was in college, sometimes two at once.

“You know,” Stacy commented, “You had sex with more girls in college than I did.”

Kira and I both laughed.

But pretty soon, we were done, Stacy cleaned off the table, Kira set me up with that awesome strap-on with a vibrator for me, and we were in bed in various positions for the greater part of an hour.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The day after our last date with Kira had been a mix-and-split day, but I stayed Kelly this time. Stacy went to counseling today, and explained how we are starting what seems like a successful relationship with Kira. They encouraged us to keep coming for a little while longer until we are sure of it, but I don’t imagine it will be much longer.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

At my next mix-and-split I became Stacy, though it didn’t affect the dating at all. I’ve had a few more dates with Kira since that last one. This time, since she didn’t have bridge today to mess her up, I invited her to stay overnight.

She was curious, so we let her see us both change this morning, each time with the other of us standing beside Kira watching. After that, Kira started teaching us bridge, and called Steph that morning and invited her up to join us. After a couple hours of instruction and with Kelly and I having bidding cheat sheets to work from, we played a bit. We didn’t do well, but Kira told us we did OK for our first time, which probably just means we didn’t totally screw up.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

I stayed Stacy after another split, and today at counseling, I told them I was ready to stop. Yesterday was the two-year anniversary of the day Brenda tried to steal me, kill me, or whatever she really thought she was doing, and that I could actually say that and not freak out about it was more evidence I didn’t need the counseling anymore. The fact that the time the service was covered by the state program was almost over was inconsequential. If I still needed it, I would pay for it.

In fact, Kelly and I have been talking about it, and we decided that on our next date with Kira, we’re going to propose to her. That date’s scheduled a week from Friday, ten days from now, and I’ll be female Stacy then, but to make it a little traditional (not that much about our relationship is traditional), male Kelly is going to propose to her. We’re going to get the ring this weekend.