Cursed: A Gender Swap Story

Mark sat in his office looking at stock reports on his computer. Even at home, he sat upright and rigid at his office desk. Despite the persistent ache, his shoulders stayed squared and he kept his jaw jutting out in a proud pose as if someone worth impressing would randomly wander through his house. He looked at the time. Dave and Eric would arrive in another two hours. Mark chewed on his lower lip as he thought ahead to the planned evening. He hated them both, but as the other junior partners, he needed them on his side. He had expected the invitation to be a good gesture rather than an accepted offer. The plan was to start at his penthouse with drinks while watching the first half of a basketball game. From there, he would take them on a whirlwind tour of the clubs. Both Dave and Eric had a knack for trading, but failed miserably at the corporate politics. A night on the town showing off his influence and leaving them indebted to him would be enough to move them aside when the day came for the first senior partnership.

He planned to fire them after his promotion. It would be a nasty blow to the morale of the lower employees, but it would quickly establish Mark as the ruthless leader he intended to be. Traders were a dime a dozen and, beyond a certain point, skill and knowledge gave way to determination and luck. Mark would find some more loyal underlings to help secure his position. All part of his plan.

Mark picked up his whiskey and took a slow sip. He didn’t remember when he became so “goal oriented”, a corporate phrase which translated to “cutthroat”. Early success in his life bred ambition and expectation. He was four years younger than Dave and Eric. Those two, at the elderly age of twenty nine, marked out the cutting edge of the firm’s new generation. Through college and the early days of his employment, Mark was patted on the back by the rich, old fools who looked at him as a young workhorse. They moved him up the ranks quickly, unaware they were drawing the knife closer to their own throats. He took another sip. Once he was a senior partner, he wouldn’t have to play nice with them any more. He would be their equal in rank, but their superior in intelligence and youth. Moving them out of the way would be a trivial matter. But first, each stone needing its place in the pile, he had to make it through an evening with the younger fools.

He heard a crash. Lupita, the housekeeper. His ears listened for any cry of alarm or pain, not out of concern, but he did not want his evening to be sidetracked by having to send his housekeeper to the hospital. Nothing but the quiet shuffling of broken glass. He drained the rest of his whiskey and went to investigate. He found her in the bedroom, a dustpan in one hand and a broom in the other. At her feet were the shattered pieces of a five thousand dollar vase. Mark didn’t know the first thing about it other than its price. He paid an interior decorator to pick out the random shit in his apartment — things which only had value for the envy they created in others. A broken vase was three minutes of trading and an irritating conversation with the decorator, little more in Mark’s eyes. “What happened?”

“I sorry, Mister Evans. I clean the shelf, and it slipped.”

He sighed. Lupita came from an agency. She was one of a hundred. “Lupita, do you have any idea how much that vase cost?”

“Is nice. I did not mean to Mister Evans.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he said through tight lips. He wondered what country she was from. Not Puerto Rican. Most likely Mexico. She was not old, but past her prime nonetheless. The immigrants always worked harder for less and that unfair trade took its toll on every facet of their being. Lupita might have been pretty once, but years of strife and poverty had robbed her of even that.

“I do not know,” she answered, her eyes looking down at the mess.

“It was worth more than I pay you in two months. Which brings us to a problem, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes flicked up at him, full of worry and fear. “Problem?”

“Yes. If I take it out of your pay, then I effectively have you as an indentured servant for the next two months. Now, other than your clumsiness, I don’t have a reason to believe you untrustworthy…yet. But after a month of being unable to pay your rent, perhaps your fingers get a little sticky.”

“Mister Evans, I would never steal,” she protested. The way she spoke his name grated against him. Her accent was thick and each mister became a “meester.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t care to find out. I think your agency has some type of insurance. I’ll take it up with them or bankrupt them. Wouldn’t that be troubling. Your inconsideration for my things would result in how many senoritas being out of a job? Leave that, I’ll clean it up myself. Get your bag. You’re fired, and you’re leaving.”

“Mister Evans, please, I need the job. I can make it up. I have savings. I pay you.” She put the broom and pan aside and clasped her hands together.

“No, I don’t think so. You can barely speak English. I’m going to need a better housekeeper anyway. It’s silly that I’ve kept on an immigrant for this long. Nothing against you or your kind, but a man of my status can afford proper staff.”

“Proper?” she asked, a sudden chill in her voice. The desperation in her face vanished, replaced by a steely glare. The sudden change in her demeanor unnerved him more than he would ever admit.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why we’re still talking. Get your bag.” He looked away, feeling exposed by the woman’s glare.

“It’s by the front door.”

“After you.” She walked out of the bedroom and over to the coat closet where she retrieved a large handbag. “I’ll need to search it,” Mark prodded. He had no reason to believe she would have preemptively stolen from him, but after the strange change in her mood left him wanting to twist the knife. She held out her bag and pulled it open. Strangely, the only thing inside was a small broach. “What is that?”

“Take it. See for yourself.”

Mark’s face contorted in a sneer, as though he’d smelled something foul. Nevertheless, his curiosity had the better of him. He reached into the bag and plucked the broach from the bottom. He brought it into the light to see that it fit easily into his palm. He could feel the pin on the back and ran his thumb over the intricate metalwork, pausing to examine what he thought to be a faux ruby set in the center. Underneath, words were engraved, but he didn’t read Spanish. “What does this say?”

Lupita closed her bag with a snap. “There is a word. Bruja. You have this in English, too.” Her accent faded, and she spoke with much clearer English. “It means witch. My abuela was a bruja. She taught me many things. She taught me how to make that.” The broach gleamed as though a light within it responded to her words. “You are a cold man with a dark heart. I have seen that on you since the day I came here. Each day I have carried this gift and worked in good faith, hoping I would be wrong. Now I give it to you. You say in English, walk a mile in my shoes. That is my gift. Walk in my shoes until you understand or walk in them forever.”

A white hot fury welled up in Mark. “How fucking dare you speak to me like that?” He clamped his hand tightly around the broach and threw it with all his might. It flew across the room and shattered. “That’s what I think of your fucking gift. Now leave before I call immigration.”

Lupita did not flinch at his outburst. She nodded and went to the door. Mark shook with anger as he watched her go, the smile at the corners of her lips mocking him.

With the door closed, Mark’s anger subsided as his coldness returned. His mind clicked back into action. He didn’t understand why the housekeeper had been able to get under his skin or the nonsense she said before she left. He still had guests due in a short time, and he needed to finish the work Lupita had failed to do.

First, he went to find the broken bits of the broach. Though the small indentation of where it hit the wall remained, he could find no trace of the shattered jewelry. Impossible, he thought. There’s no way it could have broken that much. Chunks of it should be right here. He searched almost frantically for any sign of the broach, but found nothing. Did she drug me? Did I hallucinate the whole thing? Maybe it didn’t shatter after all. Just hit the wall and bounced out of sight somewhere. His rationalization took hold and gave him some comfort, which slipped away with each second he spent frantically clawing under furniture and behind shelves to find the broach. After ten minutes of searching, he cursed silently and went to clean up the other mess.

As he cleaned away the broken vase, he made mental notes of who to tell his secretary to call. He knew of a few other executives who used a service of young European women to clean their homes. If the rumors were true, cleaning was not the service the girls offered. Mark wouldn’t mind having a girl around the house to call into his office for a quick blowjob while he watched the stocks. Once the bedroom was clean, he went back to search for the broach again. His head swirled trying to replay the events of Lupita’s departure. How many drinks did I have? He stumbled over to the sofa and sat down. His legs felt weak and his arms tired. This isn’t drunk. This is something else. Should I call a doctor?

A sudden intense pain shot through his gut. He doubled over with a whimpering groan as he rolled off the couch and onto the floor. What the fuck! His mind raced with the possibilities. Kidney stones. No, those wouldn’t be in my stomach, but in my back. Appendicitis? Possible, that’s on the front right? This doesn’t feel like that though. I’m not nauseous. The pain shot through him again. His insides coiled and twisted, as if they’d been replaced by live squid. His skin ached, he could think of no other way to describe it, the horrid sensation of every exposed inch of skin somehow feeling fatigued and worn down.

He grunted as he moved into a sitting position with his back against the sofa. He unbuttoned his shirt as a new, burning sensation replaced the bizarre ache. His fingers didn’t cooperate and, in frustration, forced him to tear at the fabric. He peeled off the fabric, hoping for some relief, but found none. A sheen of sweat covered his chest. It dripped down from his chin and hung in heavy droplets from the tips of his hair. Driven by a mad need to be free of his clothes, he kicked off his shoes and raised up his hips as he pulled down his pants. After a moment of thought broken by another twisting pain in his gut, he pulled down his boxers as well, kicking them away to join the pile of discarded clothes. I look like a fucking lunatic. Sitting in my living room buck ass naked. Despite his concerns about appearance, stripping had provided a moment’s respite from the growing heat in his body.

I need to find my phone and call the doctor. I can get dressed in something before they get here. Oh, fuck. He looked at the time. Dave and Eric were due any minute now. Mark tried to stand up, but could barely move his legs. Determined as ever, he rolled onto his side and got to his hands and knees. He crawled toward the bedroom where he’d left his phone. As his hand planted in the carpet in front of him, he gasped. It looked nothing like his hand at all. The fingers were shorter and the palm not as broad, but. more importantly. it was not the color of slightly tanned white it should have been. His eyes moved up his arms in disbelief. Mirror.

In a feat of sheer will, he compelled himself to an upright position. He made it no further. A sparkling burst of pain erupted across his chest. He cried out in a high pitched yelp as a rush of heat followed. His hands came to his chest and grabbed hold of soft, supple skin. As the palms of newly feminine hands brushed against his nipples, he felt a tinge of pleasure behind the pain. He looked down and saw his chest jutting out in front of him. Large mounds of flesh pushed into his hands, the same creamy brown color as his arms.

Fear proving to be a better motivator than pain, he stumbled to his feet. Though still shaky, he managed to find his way to the bathroom. The light flicked on, and he saw what he’d become. Staring back from the mirror was a young Latina girl. She had short black hair and big brown eyes. Her lips puffed out like big pillows, and as Mark watched, they turned from the creamy brown color to hot pink. His eyes moved down to look at the swollen breasts, and the dark brown nipples poking out from the darker areolas. Fresh horror gripped Mark as he started to feel his new body. His hands slid down his stomach as his eyes followed in the mirror. He reached the place where his cock had been an hour earlier and grasped only air. Sliding further down his fingers touched dark brown lips, wet with arousal. Watching in the mirror, he pulled the lips apart with his fingers to reveal the wet, pink pussy that had replaced his cock and balls.

“Dios mio,” came a feminine voice from his lips. That’s not what I wanted to say. I said Jesus Christ. He tried again, “Oi, dios mio.” Oh fuck. Reality pressed in around him as his hands roved over the body. He turned and dropped his jaw. Standing in profile, he gawked at the massive ass on the woman in the mirror. He shook his hips and watched the ass wobble. My god, my ass is fat. That’s the kind of ass I would break my dick off in. Somberly, he remembered his current plight and turned around entirely to see the full glory of his big bubble butt. What the fuck is happening to me?

The doorbell buzzed.

Dave and Eric will be able to help. They can call a doctor or something. Without thinking about her nakedness, he ran on light feet to the front door, his ass swaying behind him as his breast jostled up and down painfully. Mark opened the door and the two men on the other side almost choked. Mark had never noticed how handsome the two men were. Their eyes drank in the body of the Latina woman in front of them as their minds tried to catch up with the moment. “Dave, Eric, I need your help,” Mark’s sultry voice asked.

Sudden concern gripped their faces, “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Maria. Mark left me to play with you. I need you both to get those cocks out and fuck my hot little pussy.”

The words came from his mouth, or Maria’s mouth, but they were not what Mark tried to say. He struggled to understand what was happening, trapped inside a body not his own, as Maria took the two men by the hand and pulled them into the apartment. The concern they had shown at the possibility of Mark being injured or the woman being in danger had vanished. The two men remained suspicious. It all seemed too good to be true. The most beautiful woman they’d ever seen had met them at the front door of their coworkers apartment entirely naked. It felt very much like a trap. Yet an irresistible one. Something about the woman made them follow her in. Something other than the bouncing tits and luscious ass.

“C’mon boys get those fat cocks out. I need them.” She turned to Dave, “Ay papi, you want my pussy or my mouth. I can make them both super tight for you.”

Even with their hesitations, their cocks stood at full attention. Eric mustered the will to speak, “Where’s Mark? He said we were meeting here.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about Mark. That puta couldn’t get it up and had to go runnin away. He wanted you boys to have some fun though.” She moved closer to him, her hand reaching out to rub the bulge in his pants. “Don’t you want to have some fun?” The fuck am I doing? Mark didn’t know what to blame, magic or just old fashioned hormones. Even with the immediate physical issues at hand, Mark worried more about the existential threat. With every second passing, the line between his thoughts and his new body blurred. And his body desperately wanted to be fucked. All he could think of was stripping the two men down and letting them slap their cocks on her — his — face. Mark had never had a thought anything like wanting to suck a hot load of cum down his throat, but Maria yearned for it. The Mark side grabbed hard to any thought of his old self, but as Dave’s hand slapped down on the wobbly ass, Mark disintegrated, leaving only Maria.

“What do you think?” Dave asked Eric as he pulled apart her thick ass cheeks. “Could be some kind of trick? Maybe he’s filming us to blackmail or something.” His hand moved down from her ass to slide his fingers between the folds of her drenched pussy. “She’s clearly into it.”

Eric started to undress. “Not sure how he would blackmail us with this. Hell, if the upper brass saw us tag team this hot little chica we’d probably get a promotion.”

“Yeah, that’s right papi, you need to give it to me real good,” she moaned. Dave’s fingers slid easily in and out of her pussy while his thumb rubbed her asshole. Eric squeezed her tits roughly and she felt a spark of pleasure radiate out from her core. The ache of emptiness nagged at her, and Dave’s fingers weren’t nearly enough. “You going to put it in me or are you going to let your friend do it first? Don’t matter to me. I want both those cocks in me.”

The two men abandoned pretense and undressed as quickly as the could. Maria dropped to her knees and ignored the faint hint of protest from the distant other in her mind as Eric’s cock sprang free a few inches from her face. She inhaled deeply. He smelled clean and rich with musk. Her lips opened, and she took the fat head of his cock between the two pillows as her big brown eyes stared up at him. His cock slid into her mouth, and her lips felt every inch of him as it moved inside. Unfortunately, enthusiasm was no substitute for experience, and she needed to learn quick. The head of his cock pushed against the top of her mouth. She repositioned to allow it to move further towards her throat. She moved her tongue along the underside of his throbbing dick, remembering how much Mark had liked it when women did that for him. God, is this what those women felt when they were sucking my cock. I hope so. It’s so warm and thick. The smell drives me crazy and makes my pussy so wet.

Dave tossed his pants aside and moved behind her. He pulled her back to her feet as the trio positioned themselves for everyone to have fun. With a strong hand, he made her back go down to a ninety degree angle so Eric could fuck her mouth while he could get to her pussy. His hands grabbed hold of her wide hips, a deep part of him relishing the opportunity to sink his cock into a hot, Latina pussy. Maria felt the head of his dick nudging at the entrance to her cunt. She wanted to reach between her legs and pull open her lips to give him faster access, but her hands were occupied with Eric’s balls. Another lesson from her former self, she knew how to squeeze and massage the man’s balls to urge him on. As she gently tugged on Eric’s sack, she felt Dave’s cock push against her opening. She arched her ass up, and his cock slid inside of her.

The fragments of the old self had never known any feeling like it. She felt full, but that wasn’t the exact word for it. Complete, maybe. Dave’s cock pushed into her with ease as he pulled her hips back against him. Eric grabbed the back of her head to hold her mostly in place and fucked her mouth while Dave did the same with her pussy. She moaned around the thrusting cock, eager to have both inside her as much as possible. The two men were using her, treating her like nothing more than wet hole, and she fucking loved it. She needed more.

She pulled Eric’s cock from her mouth with a wet smack. She kept her eyes locked on his as she let her tongue trace circles around the engorged head. The sounds of wet skin slapping against skin filled the room as Dave started to rut into her, no longer content with the visual of his cock sliding between her brown thighs and now pursuing the pleasure of base friction. “Oh, papi, that feels so good. I can feel that fat cock inside me. It’s stretching my pussy walls.” She stroked Eric’s cock while his eyes watched his friend slam into Maria’s ass. “I’m still not full though. That’s what a girl really needs, to be filled up by fat cocks all the time. Ain’t that right?” She squeezed his cock hard as she abruptly straightened up. Dave’s cock slipped out of her, and he grunted in frustration. She looked at Eric, still gripping his cock as she pushed her tits into his chest. “I just need to know if you want my pussy or my ass. We got to figure out who goes on the bottom.”

Eric smiled a devilish grin. “I want to fuck your ass. Pump all my hot cum in you like the dirty whore you are.”

Maria smiled. “Sit.” Eric obeyed moving to the couch and sitting down. Maria’s stomach fluttered as his cock bobbed up an down from his lap. Dave stood nearby stroking his cock and eagerly awaiting the opportunity to finish what he started. Maria turned around, presenting her ass to Eric, who guided her back to straddle his legs. She felt his cock nudge against the pucker of her asshole and a maddened determination drove her on. She put her feet on either side of Eric on the couch and squatted over him, letting his cock slide between the cheeks of her ass. “Put that fat cock in my big brown booty,” she said with a manic giggle. The dull pressure returned to her asshole and with a hard shove down, she felt him push inside of her. Maria let out a low groan as the knot of tension at her core doubled. Her head lolled back and she moaned. Her legs spread out wider, flashing her bald pussy at Dave. She waved him over, and he was soon pressing against her as his cock slid into her cunt. “Ohh…yes, papi. That feels so goooood.”

Dave started to stroke into her, his momentum transferring into her body as she rode Eric’s cock with her ass. Deep inside her mind, Mark railed against the act in a feigned innocence. The truth ran much deeper. He loved each second of it. Maria felt so full, stuffed to the brim with cock, but she knew there could be more. She imagined holding two fat dicks in her hand while another shoved in her mouth. She wanted them all to cum. The two in her pussy and ass as well as the imaginary ones. She wanted to feel them all jerking in her grip as their hot spunk splattered on her tits. She snapped back to reality as Dave’s thrust went erratic. He shoved himself all the way forward, burying his cock inside her. She whimpered in frustration as he went still, his cock twitching inside her. Hot cum splashed against her pussy walls as Dave’s balls contracted and poured into her. It set off a chain reaction. Eric grunted and squeezed Maria’s tits as his cock pumped cum up her ass. As the two men unloaded inside of Mark’s new body, Maria shook with pure bliss.

Waves of euphoria washed over her as the knot of tension exploded. She cried out, relishing the feeling of being pressed between the two men. She felt their cum leaking out from her ass and pussy, and it drove her to new heights. Dave pulled out and a rush of cum followed. Eric rolled her to the side on the couch and pulled out of her ass leaving a gaping, cum soaked hole. Maria kept shivering with pleasure for what felt like an eternity. Finally she came down and composed herself. The two men were laughing and talking to each other. Eric had moved over to the bar and started making drinks.

A mile in her shoes. Is this who I am now? A cum hungry Latina slut? The tension in her started to build again as she considered it. I can fake being Mark enough to get my money. I could live like this for a while. That old bitch housekeeper taught me nothing. She gave me a gift. This body that loves to get fucked. Maria’s mind raced with plans until she saw Dave’s cock. It was drooping and still covered with her juices, but her mouth watered anyway. Just a few more fucks and then I can start a plan. She rose from the couch. “So, Mark said there were eight guys in his apartment. Why don’t we make this a real party?”

Eric got on the phone as Maria dropped to her knees. She sucked Dave’s cock into her mouth, pleased to feel it growing hard. By the time he was emptying his second load down her throat, Maria barely remembered Mark at all. A few feet away, underneath the wet bar, the red stone of the broach glowed.