This morning when I woke up I felt different. I padded to the bathroom for my morning ablutions and got a hell of a shock when I looked at the mirror while brushing my teeth. I was a dude! I don’t know how it happened but suddenly I, Samantha Doolittle, was a guy. I looked at myself in the mirror for a while and would have been pleased to report that I was quite an attractive man at that. Then I did what any normal person would do in the circumstances; I masturbated.
I had loads of trouble trying to find suitable clothes but thankfully I managed to fit into my brother’s old Levi’s and could wear a t-shirt out of my own closet. It looked a little strange on my now boobless body but sacrifices must be made when you’re suddenly a man. Shoes were a different thing, but I ended up pulling some sneakers into my feet and wowed to go buy myself a new pair as soon as I could.
I was surprised at how freely I could walk everywhere. No catcalls, no wolf whistles, nothing. A few women smiled at me and I smiled at them but that was it. Nobody coasting me to tell me how beautiful I look. There was nobody crowding me to ask for my number. It was so exhilarating!
Next I realized that with great power comes great responsibility. I was possibly the only person in the world who could finally settle the dispute of whether childbirth or getting kicked in the balls is more painful.