I Wasn't in My Right Mind
Maybe it was because my body wasn't in its usual condition that normal thought had become impossible.
Still, one thing was certain: I couldn't help but be shaken every time I came face to face with how much had changed.
Song Hamin, now shorter, with smaller hands. It was actually my body, of course; the swap had simply made the difference feel enormous. All I thought I could know was how I must have looked through Song Hamin's eyes on ordinary days. That was the whole of it, I believed.
Not much time had passed. Whether it was because the contents had been swapped or something else, other things began to catch my eye. I was still myself, unchanged, yet the altered exterior made everything feel a little different—maybe that was inevitable.
Looking at my own body through someone else's eyes. It might sound strange, but every so often it no longer felt like mine, and I found myself reacting without meaning to. More precisely, it wasn't me reacting—it was this body. Wanting to control it didn't mean I could.
The thought that Song Hamin had always looked at me that way sent a chill down my spine, yet there had never been any sign of it. I had never once felt that kind of gaze inside the house, the way I sometimes did outside. Even after he came back from the military, nothing. So was it just me? Did this body simply react no matter who was inside it? And then, because we were family, because she was my little sister, the heat would cool again?
"Hey, Song Hamin."
"Mm."
The chest was heavy, no question. No matter how slender everything else was, that part couldn't be helped. The arms and legs were so thin that gripping them wrong felt like they might snap. When they had been my own arms I never thought twice, but Song Hamin's hands seemed enormous by comparison.
Weak. Once caught, she couldn't move, only whimpered. Pulled wherever I pulled, pushed wherever I pushed—this fragile body left my gaze going blank. Had her expression always looked like this? Drunk, it was different again, but I couldn't remember if it had ever been this soft, this helpless. Just the shift from man to woman, from one sex to the other—could the feeling of an expression change this much?
Just a little would be fine, right?
When I touched the breasts they were incredibly soft, yielding. Touching my own chest had always felt like simply touching my body; feeling it through someone else's hands was somehow new. Because it no longer registered as "my chest," I could focus purely on the sensation. The more I touched, the harder things got between my legs. A man's body, stiffening on its own, had always lived at a distance from reason. Not that I had any right to say so while I was the one touching the person whose contents were Song Hamin, even if the body was mine.
"Hah."
The bra came off, the lewd body on full display. She kept trying to strip further, as if overheated; the alcohol was clearly doing a number on her. The thought that she wasn't the type to wander around drinking outside anymore came as a genuine relief.
She'd said a little gel would be enough to get off. Would that ease things a bit? I'd thought the lust had been somewhat dealt with, but maybe not; I tried to dredge up the recent memories.
"I don't know…"
Holding this fragile person down and touching her body left me with complicated feelings. Even as I toyed with my own body I was getting aroused, and the guilt came with it. Song Hamin, too drunk to resist, only hummed and swallowed moans. Even then, one of my hands was enough to pin her. The arm she raised to push me away was more nuisance than force; nothing more got through.
"More… nn… mm."
When I saw her twisting her waist and hips, trying to shift position—when I saw the navel sunk deep between that narrow waist, the pants barely hanging on her hips, the underwear peeking out—I thought I couldn't hold back any longer. Curiosity was there. Questions were there. And so the hesitation in my actions steadily disappeared.
"I know this is sudden… just once."
I pulled off the pants and underwear. The crotch came into view. I'd seen it while washing, of course, but never like this. An angle hard to catch even in a mirror—no, an angle you couldn't reach even with a mirror. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror I'd never been able to see my own back properly; seeing it from someone else's viewpoint was strangely fascinating.
Song Hamin half-naked, only the top still loosely on, and I couldn't hold back anymore.
"…It's my body, so it should be fine, right?"
I muttered it. Honestly, when would I ever get another chance like this? In the end, when things went back to normal, I would be the one who had to deal with whatever came of it. Thinking that way seemed to ease the guilt a little.
The raunchy videos and AVs I'd started watching lately floated up one by one. The woman crying out as if it felt good, the man desperately thrusting his hips. Even when I jerked off it felt half-finished, something knotted and unresolved left behind, so the strange thoughts kept coming. I knew I shouldn't, but with Song Hamin already half-naked in front of me those worries grew faint.
It goes in here?
Curiosity won. I settled between her legs and worked my fingers. I tried to ease a straight finger into the hole, but it wasn't easy. I traced the slit up and down, touched each opening in turn, and let out a small sigh. Everything was so small it was easy to get confused—yet there were parts I could feel clearly. It had been my body to begin with; there was no way to get more lost than this.
"Oh—it works."
After a few prods with my finger it really did begin to grow wet, just like in the videos. My fingertip turned damp, and the passage that had looked too tight even for a cotton swab was already starting to take the finger. It clenched and released like a living thing, gripping and refusing to let go.
"Nngh… ah…"
Looking at Song Hamin, too drunk even to hold herself up, I almost laughed. Of course, that was exactly why I was doing this.
"Doesn't look like it'll go in… will it?"
I forced the finger deeper against the tight grip. As it wriggled, the space seemed to stretch little by little. Hot, clamping down hard. The sensation already made my finger tingle. So this was what my body had felt like. Curiosity had only ever skimmed the surface before; this was the first time I'd put a finger inside. And it wasn't even my own finger—it was Song Hamin's, thick enough that the hole opened quickly.
"Fuck."
Scraping along the walls with my finger, I watched sticky fluid spill out through the parted slit. It clenched in intermittent pulses as if a heart were beating, and a cloudy mucus-like fluid ran down my finger from the hole. Squish, squish, wet. The sounds of the hole working mixed in until nothing could have been more obscene. I knew videos exaggerated, but nothing could beat the reality flooding every one of my senses.
"Gel… gel…"
If I half-assed this, both her crotch and mine would be wrecked. The thought that anything slick would make it easier and less painful got me off the bed for a moment. I took out the gel from the spot Song Hamin had shown me and squeezed a little. There was supposed to be a right amount—would this be enough?
I smeared the gel thickly over the cock. The size I'd seen in videos. A little bigger than the ones the women had gasped around while getting fucked? I didn't know. Women seemed to take about this size, usually.
"Can I?"
"Mm?"
Saying something like that to Song Hamin, who had downed nearly a whole bottle and was barely conscious, was almost funny.
"Just a little. Bear with it."
Squelch. Wet. Behind the sticky sound came the sound of something being forced open. Thrust. Only the tip was in and the stimulation was already enormous.
"Don't… stop… hhk, hah… uhk, hah… uh."
After only fingers, suddenly something this thick—she was suffering. I'd thought the pointed tip would force it open somehow if I just pushed, but even the head alone was more than enough stimulation. They said a man's sensitivity concentrated at the tip; getting worked over like this, I felt like I would come any second.
Fuck. That didn't make sense. When I'd touched it with my hands it had only hurt; now I was just putting it in and getting squeezed and already felt like I was about to shoot.
"It hurts… it hurts…"
Her face was flushed red—less from the alcohol than from enduring pain. I was feeling sensations I'd never known in my life and still trying to hold on, but she was the opposite. She thrashed in pain, trying to push out the source of it. Arms stretched only to be caught; hips twisted only to find me already locked between them, so she could do nothing.
"Still… I put gel on."
My heart hammered as if it would burst. It was thick, the inside far too narrow, yet with the gel I felt I could force it somehow. I put my weight into it and pushed forward; Song Hamin's waist arched as if being driven upward. She couldn't breathe properly, gasping, and each time her chest swelled and fell. Slowly the cock slid deeper until I felt something at the front. I pushed past that too, and Song Hamin made a strange sound.
"Khh, hah… nngh… nn."
The sensation of doing firsthand what I'd only ever seen on video. In a woman's body it had seemed difficult, nearly impossible; in a man's body the resistance wasn't nearly as strong. A week's worth of built-up lust, only half-relieved and left thirsting, now had a chance to be spent—and the cock, excited on its own, finally delivered the urge to come.
"I haven't… even done much yet…"
Just the tight grip and the heat when I entered had made me come in an instant. In the videos they thrust, sucked, licked, did every filthy thing imaginable; I had finished just from putting it in. It never happened that fast with my hand—I never dreamed simply entering would make me come. The sensation itself was different, of course. A hand wasn't hot, and the squeeze was nothing alike; there was no comparison.
Cold sweat dripped. I stared blankly at Song Hamin, still out of her mind, and at the body beneath her. The erection hadn't gone down yet. Even if I had to force it, I wanted to keep going once more.
Squelch. Wet. The lewd sound as I pulled out through the gap. The moan that answered the moment I pushed back in.
"Nn?"
That bewildered little voice, and I couldn't hold back any longer. Even right after coming, when there was almost no feeling left, I forced my hips to move. Again and again, again and again. Every time the erection softened and hardened once more I pushed it back in and rocked my hips.
I wasn't in my right mind either.