As I settle into the RER heading towards Cachan, I lose myself in my thoughts, trying to digest what I’ve just experienced. The slight discomfort in my lower abdomen persists, leaving me with a strange feeling, as if something is missing. But what? I can’t quite put my finger on it, and it deeply troubles me. My mind keeps replaying the events at the pool, reliving every moment I spent in that female body. The softness of my skin, that generous bust that moved with every motion, those long hair strands brushing against my back… It all felt so real. And now, here I am, back to being "myself," but something doesn’t feel right.
I run a hand over my arm, noting that my skin seems softer than before. Perhaps I’m still in shock from the experience, and my perceptions are just skewed. I shake my head, trying to focus on something else, but this feeling of loss, this void I can’t identify, refuses to fade.
The journey is quick, and soon, I arrive in Cachan. I walk a few minutes to my apartment, the familiar streets passing by my eyes without me really noticing them. I try to convince myself that everything is fine, that I’ve returned to who I was, but the sensation in my lower abdomen constantly reminds me that something has changed.
The apartment I share with Anna is small but functional. As students, our budget is tight, but we’ve managed to make the space cozy. The living room, which also serves as the kitchen, is furnished simply with an old gray couch, a wooden coffee table that has seen better days, and a compact kitchenette with just enough space for two. The walls are decorated with a few movie posters and photographs we’ve taken over the years, adding a personal touch to the place. The soft yellow light from the lamps creates a warm atmosphere, making this modest place feel much more inviting.
Upon entering, I find Anna lounging on the couch, watching a series on her computer. As always, she’s dressed casually, wearing an old loose t-shirt and sweatpants. Despite her loose clothing, her femininity remains undeniable—a subtle but present femininity.
“So, how was practice?” she asks, glancing up from her screen with a curious smile.
I struggle to appear normal, despite the internal turmoil churning inside me.
“It was intense, as usual. The coach made us do a lot of laps, breathing exercises… Nothing special, really.”
I omit the strange events of the evening, well aware that if I told her about the magic coin and the transformation I underwent, she would mock me relentlessly. Anna has always been pragmatic, almost cynical, and would never accept such an implausible story without proof. And now that the coin is gone, I have nothing to back up my claims.
As we continue to chat about this and that, I start to feel a growing discomfort. The urge to urinate becomes more pressing, but along with it, this strange sensation in my lower abdomen intensifies. It’s as if the muscle that allows me to hold my urine is out of place, as if my body isn’t reacting the way it should. Every word I speak is accompanied by a wave of discomfort that I can’t explain.
Anna finally stretches out on the couch, announcing that she’s going to bed.
“I’m beat, I’m going to sleep.”
She sits up, and I can’t help but notice the subtle contours of her chest under her pajamas. It’s a reflex, just a glance, but it triggers something in me. A warm, almost imperceptible sensation begins to form in my lower abdomen. Then a feeling of dampness. For a moment, I think I might have released a bit of urine, but it feels different, more diffuse, less controlled.
I stand up abruptly, a slight panic overtaking me.
“I’m going to the bathroom, see you in a bit,” I say in a voice that’s a bit too hurried.
Anna looks at me with an arched eyebrow but doesn’t comment.
I head towards the bathroom, my heart racing faster and faster. Once the door is closed behind me, I stand in front of the toilet, trying to calm myself. This sensation… It’s not normal. I take a deep breath, then unbutton my jeans, opening the zipper to grasp my member as I’ve done thousands of times before. But I can’t find it.
Panic rises a notch. My fingers explore inside my underwear, desperately searching for what should be there. But there’s nothing. My mind wrestles with the idea, refusing to accept it, searching for a rational explanation. Maybe my member is just in an unusual position, maybe…
No. Deep down, I know something is wrong. With a dull fear, I undo the button of my jeans for better access, my trembling fingers sliding under the waistband of my underwear. But instead of the familiar sensation of my member against my skin, all I feel is emptiness where there shouldn’t be any.
My breathing accelerates as my fingers move lower, discovering an indentation where there should be nothing but smooth skin. My heart pounds furiously, and I stand frozen, unable to move, unable to understand what I’m touching. Slowly, my fingers continue to explore, and I realize, with growing terror, that what I’m feeling is not my male body.
It’s… something else. Something softer, more intimate, that I didn’t have before. A wave of heat floods my face as blood rushes to my temples, leaving me almost dizzy. I hold back a scream, aware that Anna’s room is just next to the bathroom. I can’t make any noise. I can’t let anyone know what’s happening to me.
The urge to urinate returns, bringing me back to reality. Shaking, I relieve myself, but the act is anything but usual. It’s… different, a new, troubling sensation that makes me understand that I’m no longer who I thought I was.
As I fasten my underwear, my mind whirls, trying to find an explanation. But none make sense. I wished to return to my male appearance, and that’s what I got… partly. But I didn’t word my wish correctly. My appearance is that of a man, but my body underneath has remained that of a woman.
Anxiety rises within me as I grasp the gravity of the situation. I have no wish left to correct this mistake, and I’m stuck in this strange body, half-man, half-woman.