The Other Me - Part 2

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Some readers didn't think that the previous story stood well on its own. I had some spare time and (hopefully) creativity, so here is Part 2 of "The Other Me".

As always, comments are welcome.

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That night, at the Oriental Gem, Mike had experienced something. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was, but it felt like… a loss. Like some part of him went missing. At first, being a mild hypochondriac, he thought he had a minor stroke or something. He excused himself, and went to the restroom to do the self diagnosis test he had read on some email (Speak a simple sentence, smile, and lift both arms). Everything seemed fine, so he returned to his table.

He was out with Miranda, his girlfriend of two years (to the day). They were having dinner at the Oriental Gem, their favourite Chinese food restaurant. They had met at his old job, and before either of them knew what had hit them, they were dating. They weren’t living together yet, and truth be told, neither was sure that it would happen soon. What mattered most was that they were deeply in love with each other, and enjoyed spending time together. Oh sure, they had they occasional argument, like any other couple. Still, they were fairly unique in that they always tried to resolve it before they went to sleep that night.

“Are you okay, Mike?” asked Miranda. “You looked a little pale there for a minute.”

“Sure. Just a long day at work, is all. Not a spring chicken anymore, I guess.” he replied, smiling to reassure her. She was always concerned about him.

She laughed. “Mike, you are in better shape than most of the guys you work with, and they are ten to fifteen years younger than you. Still, twelve hours of slinging bricks is quite a bit. Did you want to get going? I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, babe,” he said, as he reached over to hold her hand. “Let’s just eat our food, and then…”

“And then…” she said, with a seductive look on her face. Leaning over, she whispered “Then we can go to my place and fuck like bunnies.”

“Hmmmmm. Suddenly, I am not so tired,” Mike replied, wagging his eyebrows in a way that always made Miranda giggle.

They continued eating and talking, oblivious to everyone around them. That included the dark haired, 21-year old girl occasionally sneaking a peek at them.

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Miranda knew of Mike’s ‘issues’ with gender and sexuality. She knew that he was uncomfortable with the feelings and desires that he sometimes had, and tried her best to reassure him that it was okay to be that way. She knew that he just wanted to be a normal hetero guy; and not want to be a woman on occasion, or dress up, or have other similar fantasies.

She worried that he wasn’t getting all that he could out of their lovemaking. There were certain lines that Mike would not, and could not, cross in her presence. A deep sense of shame and guilt kept him from the simple act of even wearing a piece of lingerie in front of her. Miranda encouraged Mike, saying that it was fine by her if he wanted to indulge his desires. She even said it would turn her on if he showed his ‘femme’ side.

Miranda knew that it was Mike’s feminine side, to some degree, that helped make him the incredible lover that he was, attuned to her needs and desires. Perhaps it was selfish, but she didn’t really want him to be more masculine. It would be too much like being with those oafs that she used to date. They were clumsy, and only concerned with their own gratification.

Mike did make one concession to his ‘other side’, by letting Miranda take the lead once in a while; to be the aggressor in their lovemaking. She would tie him up rather well, so that there was little chance of escape. That allowed his psyche some relief, so that he could be the passive one, without any guilt. That night was to be such a night, as they had agreed to beforehand.

After getting to her place, they made their way to the bedroom slowly, kissing and groping each other on the way. Clothes were strewn all over. By the time they reached the bed, Miranda was down to a silk bra and panties, along with stockings and a garter belt. Mike was only wearing silk boxers.

Miranda went to reach for the padded cuffs, but Mike beat her to them. Before she knew it, her hands and feet were securely fastened to the bedposts with cuffs and rope. “Aren’t you supposed to be here?” she asked with a smile.

She noted the slightly wild look in his eyes, as he responded “Nope. Change of plans.” He then proceeded to ravage her. He wasn’t his usual smooth or gentle self, but not so much as to be cruel or painful. Miranda didn’t mind — she liked it rough on occasion. She quickly found herself having an orgasm, and then another, and then another. By the time Mike came, she had lost count of how many times she had climaxed.

When she had finally regained her senses, Mike was untying her. He had a smug grin on his face. “How was that, miss?” he asked.

“Beyond description, honey,” she responded, still breathing faster than normal.

“Glad you liked it. That’s the way it’s going to be from now on.” He tossed the bondage gear aside, rolled over, and was asleep in a matter of seconds.

Miranda was surprised. They usually held each other, and talked for awhile after lovemaking. Still, she couldn’t complain too much. Her body was still tingling from the passion that they shared. She spooned up against him, and found herself dozing off a few minutes later.

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After my rather strange meeting with Randolph, I took a cab back to my car parked at the restaurant. I drove the old Chev home to my apartment in the west side of town. I was amazed at how easily I had adapted to being this new person. I had full access to Lindsay’s memories, and anything that the old ‘Lindsay’ could do, I could do just as well.

As I dug through the girl’s past, I felt embarrassed and ashamed at how spoiled and arrogant the she was. The sheer volume of arguing, pouting, backstabbing and manipulation was overwhelming. It was a surprise that someone hadn’t beaten the snot out of her by now. I would really have my hands full just trying to smooth things over and make amends. I would start with family and co-workers first, as they were the ones I dealt with the most. I am fairly diplomatic, and I would need all of those skills to make things right.

I was happy to be ‘home’. It was certainly a step up from my old place, being much larger and better furnished. It also was much cleaner — I wasn’t the tidiest person in my old life. I sat down on the sofa, and turned on a fair sized plasma television with the remote. I flipped through the channels, and settled on a sitcom that wasn’t too lame. It didn’t matter — I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to it anyways. Instead, I mentally summarized my rather unique day.

From what I understood, Randolph basically split Mike’s personality. I got the femme side, along with a copy of all the memories. Mike retained the more masculine attributes, and the memories as well. I was transferred into Lindsay’s body, while her soul was shifted to a resuscitated-from-the-dead street person’s shell. This would probably make a decent episode of the Twilight Zone, or perhaps the Other Limits. I wonder who could portray the old me? Tom Welleck is too old, but had similar looks back in the highlight of his career. Hugh Zackman? Nah, too good looking. Hmmmmm, Hugh. He is hot….

I snapped out of the start of that fantasy. If I gave it too much thought, it somehow seemed wrong. It shouldn’t, though. After all, I am the femme Mike, in a female body. It would be best to adapt to my circumstances. I would do probably do just that, once I found out for sure that this who I would be from now on. And as Randolph had up and vanished, I needed to talk to the only other person who knew anything about this: Emily, my therapist. I suppose I could phone her emergency number now, but it wasn’t like I was in danger of harming myself. It could wait until the morning.

And speaking of harm, what would the old Lindsay do, now that she was no longer a rich little princess? She was a poor person, living on the streets, with little to lose. Would she come after me? Try to do me harm? Was she even in this city? This state? This country? I would like to think that Randolph would have taken care of this potential problem, but he didn't say either way.

As for Mike and Miranda, I was assured that they would be alright. While Randolph was a bit sneaky with all of this body swapping stuff, I don’t think he was lying about my (former) girlfriend’s safety. I did miss her, more than I realized. She was an awesome person, and as I sat on the couch, I thought about all the fun we had together over the past two years. I started sniffling, and before I knew it, I was quietly sobbing. I laid on the couch, hugging a pillow, and cried myself to sleep.

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Comments

You Go, Girl!

I'm still having a problem with the spirit-splitting, supernatural hocus pocus but the fact that the story is really well told is helping me get over it.

On with Part Three!

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

P.S. What!! NOBODY else commented? Their loss; your gain (you got me as a commentator).

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)