A year later...
David adjusted to people calling him "Mariah". He hated that fucking name, but it was his now. As far as everyone was concerned, the person living in this body was "Mariah".
He got used to showering. He got used to washing his sister's disgusting, flabby body every single day. He got used to sitting on the toilet and pissing and shitting and wiping his sister's vulva and asshole. He got used to shaving his sister's armpits, shaving his sister's legs, shaving his sister's vulva. He got used to the pain of his sister's massive breasts weighing his neck and back down all day, every day.
Menstruating... Jesus fucking Christ. Before the switch, he was vaguely aware that girls had to deal with something annoying, but he'd always thought that was some silly inconvenience, like wearing pants without pockets. Something for girls to complain about and giggle. Not something boys had to care about.
But menstruating... He was now forced to feel it, see it, smell it, five, six, seven days in a row. It was SO much more painful than he could've ever imagined. Constant, twinging, cramping, pain. All day, all fucking day, for days on end. And if it were *only* pain, he could've maybe tolerated it. But it wasn't only pain, it was the disgusting outcome of it. Having to put pads in his panties to soak up the blood, having to change those pads out every few hours. And the feeling of a big blood clot popping out of his vagina a few times a day. It felt so disgusting and painful and nauseating, and the smell, the fucking smell. The smell of his sister's body, her uterus forcing its disgusting lining out through David's vagina so David could wrap it up and throw it in the trash only to put a new clean pad in its place. It was never-ending.
And that wasn't cruel enough, nature had to be even crueler. The horniness. Mariah's body was just as horny as David's teenage boy body was. But while a fit teenage boy can just jerk his dick off whenever he wants, and people assume that's what teen boys do and don't really care, it was totally different being trapped in Mariah's body.
The only way for David to masturbate was to rub his clitoris. But it was never as satisfying as pulling out his penis and jerking it off. It was a sick, wet, disgusting, horrible thing between his legs. And having to feel around between his folds—those hairy folds of skin, his sister's hairy folds of skin—was so disgusting it made him nauseous.
Actually, the nausea was a huge part of his life after the switch, although he was embarrassed to tell anyone.
The first time he had to shit in Mariah's body, he vomited on the floor. The smell of someone else's poo and the feeling of Mariah's intestines churning inside him, and pushing out a bunch of poop, while his vulva peed into the toilet, was so emotionally overwhelming and disgusting he almost passed out. Then his fat female stomach clenched and before he knew what was happening his stomach contents were flying out of his throat.
He struggled to ignore the smell—his sister's body, his puke, his shit—as he cleaned it all up.
But it wouldn't be the last time. Having to shit and piss in Mariah's body, feeling the blood clumps pop out of his vagina, having to shave his flabby, jiggling legs and armpits, having to put on a bra every day to support his big jiggling breasts, each of these tasks was utterly disgusting and felt like a cruel punishment, as though he had committed some crime and this was a bitter god's revenge. And this was a hell he would wake up in and wade through every day for the rest of his life. And every time he thought of this, a wave of nausea would smack him in the gut, and Mariah's hungry fat belly would cramp up, and he would vomit again. He would hear a distant female voice retching and moaning and crying, and then remember that that female voice was his, and would be his forever.