Saturday, May 30, 2009

I got up, ready to change as usual - except I remembered today was going to be nothing like usual. I sat on the bucket with my penis aimed inside, and let loose. It went as normal, except that my pee was filling up the bucket rather than the tub. I felt my limbs start to shrink and I think I felt the splash as my torso fell into the bucket just before I lost consciousness.

Soon, I awoke, a head, arms, and torso in the bucket, and I lifted myself out so my legs could form. Another me was lying curled up at the drain end of the tub, already fully formed. She started waking up about the time I was able to get standing outside the tub. We dumped out the rocks, and took a shower together - just showering! Well, we washed the bucket and the rocks too, since they had my cell residue all over them.

We got out, dried off, and put on the small sports bras (definitely needed), small panties, and we each wore one of my short dresses, which on us was cocktail-length. We were pleased to find that the sports bras and panties fit decently well. The sizing had to be a guess, but almost three years of living half time as a woman had taught me something about sizes. We let the rocks and the bucket dry while we went about our day. We intended to keep them. If we ever had to split again, we’d have them available.

The next order of business was breakfast. We were eating our normal breakfast - raisin bran with milk - today, except I put the milk jug and cereal box on the table in addition to our initial serving. The cereal box was new yesterday - the small size box I typically ate - but we were going to eat it 4 times as fast. That meant we’d finish the box today. The other boxes I bought were family size boxes, each as big as one and a half of the small ones. I’d finish one of those in two days.

“Okay, who’s who?” my twin asked.

“Flip for it?”

“Sure. You find a coin and flip.”

When I had the coin ready, my twin called, “Heads, you work and I stay home, tails, I work and you stay home.”

The coin came up heads.

“Looks like I get to go to work.”

We worked out a plan. I would work, but my twin would do the chores around the house, and cook meals. I’d still do the grocery shopping or any other needed quick outings on the way home from work, but she’d do any other shopping needed on weekends. The shopping trip we would do next weekend we’d do together. Also, I’d maintain the usual change schedule, which meant I’d start work Monday female (though it was work from home). She’d change before bed tonight, mid-day tomorrow, and in the morning just after me each additional day to establish the different sexes.

Also, while we would both be Clint to the outside world, we decided to take new names just for referring to each other. I was Kelly, and she’d be Stacy. Both names that could apply to men or women, of course. It would still be many years before we knew if the kids of switchers were all switchers, or even more frequently were, but they were naming all their kids with such names, including Michael, Dana, Pat, and Robin.

At lunch we each had a sandwich one of me would normally eat for lunch, and also a big bowl of pasta with alfredo sauce. Dinner was Chinese-style, each of us with a big plate of rice and assorted chopped up meat and veggies in it, covered in some sort of sauce Stacy improvised. We needed a while before we could eat a double bowl of ice cream each for dessert.

Stacy changed male before bed, and I waited for him there. I only had the one full-size bed, so I knew we’d both sleep there; at least at our small size, there was plenty of room. I’d slept with dates here before; there was room for two people who were intimate. And who could be more intimate than my other self?

At no point before I split had I decided my selves were going to have sex, nor after the split did we discuss it. But when Stacy got to the bed, he was naked, and simply asked, “Sex?”

And I replied, “Yes.”

So I got to be the first of us to find out what it feels like for a woman to have sex with a man's real penis. Even though we were small, our sexual parts were full-size - or only scaled down by the same degree as everything else, at worst. The penis was way bigger than I had at 11, and I didn’t have female parts to know, but I was pretty sure an 11-year-old girl was not developed like this between the legs. And it was wonderful.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

I changed male in the morning, and Stacy had the cereal and milk ready for us once I was dressed.

As we ate, I commented, “Remember, Stacy, we’re not going to fuck every day. After we get back to full size we’re going to go looking for a nice bi girl who’ll take us both.”

“Of course. But we can fuck sometimes.”

“Definitely.”

As Sunday was laundry day, and laundry was now one of Stacy’s chores, she gathered up all the worn clothes and washed them starting immediately after breakfast.

Stacy changed female after lunch, and again came out naked and invited sex. Naturally, she deserved her turn to feel my penis inside her. Unsurprisingly, she seemed to enjoy it as much as I did the sex the night before.

Only for a little while, though. I had to go adjust my work-from-home area to fit my smaller body - something I was going to have to update every couple days until I got back to my normal size - and Stacy had more housework that needed doing.

We had sex in bed again at the end of the day.

Monday, June 1, 2009

We changed in sequence today, as agreed, me first. Stacy had the cereal, milk, bowls, and spoons set out when I came out and she went in to change, and I started eating while she was becoming male.

Then female me sat at my newly adjusted workstation at home, while male Stacy did other chores, made meals, and kept up on the latest developments with switchers in the news.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

The rest of the week went similarly, with Stacy collecting and washing our underwear and some other clothes to make a load every second day because we had bought so few of the small ones. By today, Saturday, those small ones were getting tight and we both switched to our adult clothes, which were slightly too big, but we could make them work.

Also, we had eaten most of the food I bought 8 days ago and a shopping trip was needed. I drove. With the seat pulled all the way forward I could reach the pedals and see over the dashboard. With Stacy helping to watch for traffic, I made it to the store.

We were about the size of a 14-year-old today, not quite fully grown but a lot closer than when we started. It would take us until next Saturday to finish growing, and Sunday we’d be back to normal meals. So we were buying 8 days of quadruple meals again, and the stuff I bought last time worked, so we bought the same stuff again, or as close as we could based on what was available. Being smaller made it more difficult to lift some heavy items, but I pushed the cart and managed the list and Stacy grabbed items from the shelves, except when we were buying heavy items or large amounts in one place, when I helped load the cart as well. And we both helped unload at home, of course.

It wasn’t long after we got everything put away that it was time for lunch. We both relaxed a bit afterward. I shared with Stacy what was happening at work, and Stacy shared with me what was happening with switchers. And there was an interesting development. The new thing some long-term splitters were doing was called mix-and-split. Both members of a split pair deposited their stem cells in the same pool, but using a splitter to divide the results into two new bodies. This resulted in no or very little size change that was easily managed after a day, but they’d share their memories. This was interesting - if we did this, we wouldn’t need these info dumps, nor would we feel permanently tied to these roles. We’d both remember working my job as Kelly and housework and research as Stacy.

I noted, “We would need a bigger splitting tub. We’d be trying to make two portions of 18.8 gallons each.”

Stacy commented, “Yes, they used trash cans. They come in 23 gallon size, so we’ll need to put a lot in the bottom.”Wait, how big is the whole bathtub?”

I looked it up online. “A standard bathtub holds about 40 gallons. Since the top of the trash can would be taller than the top of the tub, it would not take up the whole 23 gallons of tub space, so it should work.”

“I think it would be a good idea to do at some point.”

“Yeah. I think down the road, it will keep us from building up enmity. You can’t be mad at something I did long ago when you did the thing too. You might feel like doing all the housework is the short end of the stick, or I might feel like making the money for us is the short end. But we’ll come together at these times and have both sets of memories.”

Stacy added, “Not to mention that should one of us die somehow, the other will be able to go on and make both of us again. If we don’t do this, we’ll lose one of our entire memories.”

“So maybe once a month or so we could do this, you think?”

“Yeah. The reason I brought that up is there’s another story that got some media attention with the headline, ‘Are Pee Body Switchers Immortal?’”

“I know Betteridge’s law of headlines says no, but tell me about it.”

“We can die if our stem cells get stuck somewhere where they can’t reach the open air enough to form a head. It can happen in as little as 18 inches of water, or if we fall into a tight space. Also, if we get split into pieces all too small to form a body. This happened to about 40 of us the first day, mostly by getting flushed by automatic-flush systems.”

“Good thing we stopped using the toilet after the first day.”

“I think almost everybody did as soon as it was clear that wasn’t really pee. There was a side-story about toilets, but I’ll get to it later. Another 2 died this way later, and 10 others have died in various kinds of accidents or been murdered. Several others have survived potentially fatal accidents by starting a change on the spot. It heals all wounds. But the big thing is, none of us have died of other causes. There are about 1800 of us spread over all ages, and you would expect in 3 years for 3-4% of them to die of the diseases associated with old age. They think our stem cells prevent aging, and in older people reverse it a bit.”

“I think I remember hearing something about stem cells reversing aging even before we started changing, but tell me the news.”

“Scientists think the telomeres of our chromosomes - portions at the end that don’t code any active genes - are buffers for aging. When our cells reproduce, they sometimes don’t quite copy the DNA strands all the way to the end, and as a result the telomeres get shorter. When the telomeres are completely gone, we start losing active genes. This doesn’t happen to all the cells at the same time, but errors accumulate. When we are in our stem cell mass, before we form new bodies, the stem cells repair the telomeres. Now that we are almost 3 years in, 80-year-olds who started changing when we did have the telomeres of a 50-year-old and 50-year-olds have the telomeres of a 25-year-old due to the cells with shortened telomeres being fixed.”

“So if we repair our telomeres every day, we won’t age.”

“Or we will age very slowly. And they think it’s possible that the stem cell mass repairs even lost real genes, as long as some of the cells still have them to copy from, but that one’s going to take a lot more effort to confirm. Some people reacted to that with sensationalist responses. ‘if we keep producing new switchers, are we going to take over the world eventually due to never dying?’ There was also worry about splitters, who could potentially double their numbers every two weeks, quickly overtaking the world.”

“If they could find enough food,” I laughed!

“Yeah, most people dismissed it as unwarranted hysteria. We still get a new switcher appear at puberty about once every two weeks as well, but 26 more a year is going not going to take over the world in thousands of years. And apart from a few scientific experiments, the most bodies one splitter has made at one time is three. We could, given sufficient food, make a million of ourselves in a year, and overwhelm the human race in two years, but the sufficient food thing is an insurmountable obstacle. If all the children of switchers are also switchers, it could happen faster, but we’re still talking centuries. It won’t happen within the lifetimes of anybody alive today, except the eternal switchers.”

“That seems like a good summary and rebuttal to those people. So tell me the toilet story.”

“You know how flushing toilets work, right?”

“The drain goes up again beyond the bowl before it goes down, and pressure maintains equal height in the bowl and on the other side. When you put a bunch of water in at once, that pressure has to equalize. The water rises past the peak of the drain, and then falls with gravity, but the pipe is full and there’s no air between this falling water and what’s in the tank, so it pulls the rest of the water with it. That’s why it makes that sucking sound. I think.”

“That’s pretty much right. It’s called the siphon effect. The essence of the story is that our stem cell mass is heavier than water and goes to the bottom. This means that when we start peeing ourselves into a toilet, our cells fill the U-bend before there is enough added to make the toilet flush by pressure alone. And our stem cell mass likes to stick together, though within the mass those cells flow around. What happens, then, is that part of us oozes slowly down the drain, sticking together even against the effect of gravity. Effectively, we clog the toilet. Some toilets have an automatic flush on a sensor. If this activates before we have clogged the toilet, the water flow overwhelms our cells’ ability to stick together and we get flushed away and broken into little bits by the flush action. Even if enough of us is in one place down in the sewer, we won’t have air and we die.”

“A little gory, but worth knowing how it works.”

“It gets gorier. They studied what happens to trapped stem cell masses. If there is room to make a head and lungs with access to air, they can survive most of a day without fully forming. But if not, they have enough energy to survive a couple hours. After that, they continue to survive by cannibalizing other cells. The smaller mass survives, gradually dwindling. After about 8 hours, there isn’t enough of the cell mass left to form a body even if it gets free, and after about 11 hours it dwindles away to nothing. This was all done with split bodies donated to science, and not counted in any of those statistics - these people lived on through other bodies.”

“OK, that’s enough. I agree, we should look into doing this mix-and-split once a month or so. Does it guarantee we keep our genders?”

“Nope. You remember that when they experimented with mixing opposite sex copies together the results were random. In the mix-and-split case starting with opposite genders, about 80% of the time opposite genders came out, but sometimes they came out the same.”

“So sometimes, one of us will have to do a couple quick changes to get back to opposite genders.”

Stacy responded, “Oh, yeah, we should definitely do that.”

“Is that going to mess with our sex schedule?”

Yeah, it had already become a schedule. We’d had sex every day since the first split.

“I don’t think so. Remember how we had sex our first weekend? We came out the same Saturday morning, but I changed before bed and we were different genders then. You changed in the morning and I changed after lunch and we were different genders all evening. And then we both changed in the morning together.”

“Right. When you feel like you want to mix and split with me, just tell me, or if I feel like it’s time, I’ll say so, and we can get the stuff before that and be ready for some Saturday morning.”

Saturday, June 13, 2009

The second week of regrowth was uneventful. We were almost back to full size and wearing all normal clothes now. In fact, we were closer than expected. The scales this morning showed 157 for me and 156 for Stacy, so I only ate double breakfast and Stacy only double breakfast and lunch today. In the afternoon, Stacy and I went out shopping, buying food more like we normally ate, and in double the usual quantity instead of four times. We also managed to pick up the tall, square trash can which was one of several 23-gallon styles available at Home Depot. (The next smaller size was 18 gallons. That might have worked, but it also might have ended up making us several pounds lopsided, and with no easy way of checking whether it was really 18 gallons or 18.8 or 19+ when filled to the brim without buying it, we opted for the larger one.)

We put the stones in the trash can (remembering we will need to add more later) and put our small sized underwear in the 10-gallon bucket and stored it away in the attic.

Monday, June 15, 2009

It was back to the office for female me, full sized and looking no different to my co-workers. Only a couple of them knew male me was staying at home. Nobody needed to know I was fucking my other self and only my boss and those I worked most closely with needed to know I had a second self at all, in order to justify the time working from home. A couple people today asked me about my absence and I just told them I had some issues related to the syndrome.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

We agreed this week it was time to try a mix-and-split, so last night we weighed ourselves - matching weights of 158 for both - and we set up the trash can with a few bricks and other stones. So this morning, 5 weeks from when we first split, we climbed atop the trash can at the high end of the bathtub, sitting on opposite corners, me peeing from my girl parts and Stacy from his penis, both of us mixing our stem cells in the large can.

The idea of sitting there, two people peeing into the same bucket, was pretty weird. It wasn’t a thing I would have expected to do even with my girlfriend. Even the people into watersports were more for peeing on each other rather than in a bucket together. It only made sense for the thing we were doing today, along with the fact it wasn’t really pee, even though it looked like it, until the flow got absurdly strong.

Once we had shrunk down a bit, we changed our positions to dangle our shrunken legs inside the bucket, holding ourselves up with our arms until they got too small and weak to do that, and we both plunged in just as we lost consciousness.

The next I knew, I awoke in an uncomfortable position with my legs tucked up tight beside me inside the can. Other me was waking up outside the can. I was female, and the me in the tub was male.

“I’m female, so that makes me Stacy, and you’re Kelly,” I told my other self.

“Right, we agreed that if we came out different sexes, we’d stick with it and whoever came out male today would be Kelly and go to the office. I actually feel more like Stacy, for some reason. Those memories are stronger in my mind, but I can also remember your work in the office and what you have been working on recently. Also the new password you had to pick last week.”

“Yeah, the office memories are stronger in my mind, but I don’t think we should change our plan because of it. I can do the housework the next month.”

After we got showered and the residue washed off the bucket and stones, we dressed, and I, as Stacy, immediately assumed the meal prep duties. Which, it being breakfast, just meant pouring milk and cereal for each of us, providing spoons, and bringing them to the table.

We spent a while discussing things that were easier now that we both had the memories of them. Also once in a while we confirmed things the other was expected to do. Not once was there any actual confusion, though,

In the evening, Kelly fucked me with his penis. I remembered our sex the previous night, during which, as I remembered it most strongly, Stacy fucked me with his penis. But I could also remember that sex from the male side. Thinking about those memories together, being able to remember both sides of the same experience, was pretty damned hot!

Kelly might have thought he got the short end of this deal, missing a turn to have sex as female, because we both experienced better sex from the female side. As far as working my job instead of doing housework, I am not sure how Kelly would think of it, but this worked well. The point of this experiment was to make sure we both experience both roles, and if the person who remembered it less was doing each role now, that was a positive thing for both of us in this experiment.

Being Stacy meant I got to go do shopping. While some stores were closed for Independence Day, most were open, and it didn’t interfere with my shopping. While I remembered Stacy’s shopping trips, it felt like it wasn’t me. So it felt like the first time I had gone shopping in a few weeks. But I had no problem putting together a shopping list and then going to fill it.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

I was male Stacy today, and since it was Sunday, that meant laundry. Of course I knew how to do that. I did it for many years before I started changing, and then almost three years as a single-bodied changer who had to do everything around the house. It was only a month that the other me did it exclusively. The only difference was there was twice as much to wash now.

At least, with me and Kelly sharing clothes, I didn’t have to worry about getting stuff mixed up the way, for instance, two sisters might. I wasn’t too likely to mix up the male and female clothes, and even if I did, they were all “mine” anyway. If either of us found something in the wrong dresser or closet, we were both familiar with where all the clothes belonged and could move it.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

We planned our next mix-and-split today. I was starting as male Stacy. It was still just as weird being face to face with my other self, just peeing ourselves away into that trash can. It was even weirder when Kelly started kissing me.

This time we came out both male, so we flipped for it, and I (at least, the one of me who more identified with the memories the most recent Stacy had had) stayed Stacy per the flip. That meant I was supposed to be female, and had to do the two quick swaps tonight and tomorrow afternoon to restore our gender situation.

Interestingly, though the most recent memories, those of being Stacy since the first mix-and-split, were stronger in my head than Kelly’s memories from this time, the memories from the earliest split time now seemed of equal strength. I could no longer say I was definitively the first Kelly as opposed to the first Stacy, except that second Stacy had felt like first Kelly in that earlier period.

Today, just three days short of the third anniversary of change day, we heard a report on another scientific breakthrough related to changers. They found a method of preventing the forced change long enough to allow pregnancy to occur. It’s not pleasant - they basically put the patient into a drug-induced coma. Selective application of the drugs let them disable the change but keep the reproductive system running, and they brought them out of it when ovulation was detected. Two volunteers provided female selves to be treated this way. These female selves then had sex with their chosen males (not their other selves) frequently during the following 24 hours, and one managed to get pregnant, halting the change further, as expected. Pregnancy also opened up the anus and allowed the patient to urinate and defecate normally. The pregnancy has been going for two months now, and appears to be proceeding normally. The second patient repeated the procedure and recently succeeded in becoming pregnant during the third iteration of the procedure.

They commented in this article that they strongly recommend switchers do not have children with themselves using such a procedure. It would be the worst form of inbreeding. The problem with inbreeding is that it makes it far more likely to have two copies of the same gene, which is harmless for most genes, but there are a large number of genetic diseases caused by two copies of certain genes. For each such gene that you are a carrier of, meaning you have one copy, your child would have a 1/4 chance of having two copies and thus getting the disease.

I wasn’t really thinking about this when I set myself up as a splitter. The idea was more to have a body around that could please my partner, of whatever preference, all the time, and for me to get used to the idea of living that way. The only part this discovery changes is that if I end up with a male partner and I have to be the one to have kids, one of me can use this method to do so.