Eric Otten and I (Raven) have been working on a true
collaboration on this story.  We'd like to believe that it's coming out very
well.

This story contains adult themes, and some graphic scenes.  If you do not like
this sort of thing you should not read this.  The purpose of this story is not
to offend as recent private e-mails to me have implied.

The copyright is the possessed by the authors alone.  there should be no
reposting, etc., without the express consent of the authors.

The Cosmic Joke
by Raven and Eric Otten

"You really don't get it, do you Derek?" snarled Ginger.

They had been arguing this way, for what seemed to be hours.  It was the
same old argument . . . the battle of the sexes.

"Get what?" snapped Derek in return.

"We're all just the victim of a gigantic cosmic joke."

"I have no idea what you mean?"

"Think about it . . ."  started Ginger, "All men think about all day long is
sex, and pleasure.  Women think about more practical stuff.  The only
problem is that women have the body with so many errogeonus zones,
that is practically built for pleasure.  You guys have the body that was built
to perform all of the practical stuff.   The man upstairs played a joke on us
all by putting the wrong brains with the wrong bodies."

Derek started laughing so hard that his stomach hurt.  

After he was able to restore a modicum of self control, he asked, tears of
humor in his eyes, "And just what do you think would happen if this
cosmic joke of yours was put right?"

Ginger smiled, a deep smile, "Oh.  That's an easy one.  We would be
much better guys then you are, and you guys would be much better girls. 
One taste of what it was like to be penetrated by a hard cock, or to have
a penis in your mouth would be all that it took.  It would be impossible to
get you of your back.  You guys would be breeding machines."

He looked at her with as serious of an expression as he could muster,
considering the line of crap that he was hearing.  

"Do you actually believe this shit?  You've been reading to much of those
Psych text books.  Anyway, there's no way of testing your stupid theory
out."

"Uh . . ." Ginger hesitated.  "What if there was?"

"Now what?" exclaimed Derek sarcastically.  "The only way to do that is
surgery, which is painful, and expensive."

"No.  Listen.  I read something in my roommate's anthropology book,
where some aboriginal natives figured out a way to switch bodies.  I bet
that if we researched it, we could figure out how to switch bodies."

Derek looked nonplussed.  "You're joking right?"

"What?  Are you too much of a pussy to have a pussy?  I bet after getting
screwed once, you'll be spreading your legs for any go who makes a pass
at you.  I bet after a few weeks in my body you'll be looking forward to
a period."

"You are crazy!  I'm no fag.  There is no way that would ever happen,
assuming`that we could switch bodies."

Ginger dared him, "Then put your money where your mouth is hotshot."

"You wanna bet?" guffawed Derek.

"Sure.  Why not?"

"What's the bet?"

"An anything?"

"What the hell is an anything?"

"If I win, I get anything that I want.  If you win you get anything you want.
No restrictions!  Whatever the other wants, the other has to do or
provide.  Deal?"

"Hold on.  Let me get this straight.  How do you win?"

"You admit to me that I was right.  You make a better woman, and I
make a better man."

"And how do I win?"

Ginger answered, "I admit that I was wrong about my theory."

Derek thought for a second, " . . . or if this body swtiching thing doesn't
work.  If that just turns out to be a myth, I also win."

"Hey," protested Ginger.  That's not fair."

"Those are my terms.  Take  em or leave  em."  Derek smirked, "That's
what it'll take to get into my pants . . ."

It took Ginger one second to decide.  She was very confident in her
position. She stuck out her hand toward Derek, "Deal."

They shook hands to cement the deal.

"Let's get started . . ." grimaced Ginger.

Derek and his girl friend, Ginger Thompson, had just made a strange
wager. If Ginger couldn't find a way to switch their bodies, he won. If she
could accomplish this impossible feat, and get him to admit that she  made
a better man than he, and he made a better girl than her, then she would
get the "anything."

Easy Money! he thought with glee.  

Derek looked lustfully at the petite redhead. He loved the way that her
cute freckles covered her chest, as well as the rest of her body.   What a
breathtaking, cute figure . . . and those knockers! Derek grew erect just
thinking about them. How would it feel to actually own them?

He bristled at the alien thought, trying to put it out of his mind. Derek
stuck out his hand to cement the wager, and they shook on the deal. 

"Let's get started!" she commanded. 

"Good idea!" he grinned lecherously at her. Derek grabbed her in his
arms, communicating, non-verbally that he had something else entirely in
mind. It was the bulge in his pants that said all that needed to be said . . .
with an exclamation point!  Make that several exclamation points!!!!!

"Hey! I meant research!" she protested, straining  ineffectually against male
muscles developed for baseball, basketball, and tennis.

"Sorry, my mistake," he responded sheepishly, kissing her. 

Ginger shook her head tolerantly, her rich red hair tousled ever so
sensuously. "Boys will be boys" she whispered.

She wrapped herself around him.  Enjoy it why you can, she silently told
herself.  This might be the last time as a girl for quite a while. If this
works out the way that I hope it does, Derek will soon be straining to
get out of my arms.  Ginger looked up into his eyes.  Then again, she mused
humorously, if I'm right he won't be struggling to get away from me.

Derek had no idea why Ginger was giggling.  He just kissed her a little
more insistently this time.

**********

The next morning Derek groaned. The confidence from yesterday was
gone. He awoke, sitting straight up in bed. Something which he didn't take
the time to consider yesterday just occurred to him.  Ginger would not
have made such a bet to turn herself into his slave unless she knew the
body switch was possible! She was the smartest kid in their college.
Although his 3.0 was not bad, her 4.0 + honors was exceptional. 

Derek's dad had warned him, also.  "Never make  a bet  with a woman,
son," he had said. "They usually win, and if they don't . . .well then they're
pissed as hell with you for winning."  Derek had never considered his
father the soul of sage wisdom until this very second.

I've been sucker punched! Derek panicked. He cheered up upon further
reflection. What am I worried  about? Just cause she thinks there's a way
to switch bodies, doesn't mean its going to work. That type of thing only
happens in stories . . . and very bad stories at that!

Still, that wouldn't dull Ginger's enthusiasm for the quest.  He knew from
past experience, that if he didn't indulge her, it would take forever to get
back on her good side. If  he ever did! Lots of other guys were waiting in
case she dumped him.
  
Derek sighed deeply, as he got out of bed to hurriedly begin dressing. 

**********

Ginger was waiting for Derek at the entrance with her usual impatient
energy.  She was leaning against the arch of the entryway in a rather
provocative pose, which belied the "put out" expression on her face.

"Come on. Come on!"  she yelled at Derek, while waving her hands in a
gesture which indicated that time was of the essence.

"Did somebody set your hair on fire this morning?"  managed Derek out
of breath, as he came jogging up to where Ginger was standing.
 
"Bite me!" she exclaimed, in her favorite retort, simultaneously grabbing
his arm  to hustle him towards the entrance. Nevertheless, Ginger couldn't
resist one sarcastic remark before they both disappeared into the library.

"You're tired already?  Here I though that I was going to inherit the body
of an athlete.  I'll just have to get it into shape."

"Dream on, Honey," Derek laughed in spite of himself.  "This body's built
for speed and power Yours is only built for love!."

Ginger looked over in time to see Derek flex one arm to demonstrate his
bicep muscle.  She cocked but one eyebrow, and then reminded him,
"Soon enough your only going to be built for lying on your back, and
spreading your legs."

To demonstrate her point, Ginger hoisted both of her impressive boobs in
her slender, dainty hands, and squeezed them suggestively.

"Yup.  Soon these will be all yours . . . you lucky duck!."

**********

The two adventurers navigated their way into the anthropology closed
stacks. With the ease of a long practiced cat burglar, Ginger picked the
lock. They weren't supposed to be here, however, no one paid attention
once they were inside. 

"I'll get kicked off the team for sure if they catch us," noted Derek
realistically.  Fantasy and playtime were one thing, but sooner or later it
can impact, negatively, upon your real life.  Getting booted off the football
team wouldn't do either of then any good.

"Faint heart never won fair lady's body," she scoffed. 

Derek started to grin, but stopped.  Just how did she mean that? Isn't it
supposed to be a fair lady's heart?

"Just don't stand there looking studly.  Use your brain instead of your
brawn.  Start looking under tribes from the islands of the Indian Ocean."

Derek reminded Ginger, "Hey my major's Civil Engineering, not Voodoo."

She shoved a book into his stomach anyway.

He began to read as he was instructed by Ginger. What a load of crap!
There were a few isolated tribes were women were in charge. Derek
made a mental note that he wouldn't want to be a man there.  Fortunately,
he wasn't stupid enough to say so to Ginger the Red. 

Derek turned a page.  There it was, just as Ginger had described it to
be.  If she found it there would surely be trouble.  The prospect of ending
up in her body suddenly seemed to be a dangerously close thing.  Derek
tried to suppress the gasp, but didn't quite make it. 

"GIVE ME THAT!" Ginger snapped the book away, just as Derek
moved to close it and return it to the shelf. Her eyes virtually glowed.

"We've found it.  We've found the tribe!" She glared at him, "You were
going to tell me weren't you lover?"

He shrugged, defeated, "Of course. You can trust me."  Derek mustered
a weak smile that said the exact opposite.
 
"Derek, bite me!" smirked Ginger.  "You're going to pay for that dearly
when you get my body."

"Don't you know any other expressions?" replied Derek, desperately
attempting to change the subject.

"Listen to this," she read, undeterred, with her green eyes glowing like
magic emeralds in a fire. "The Ubatttahah tribe of  Minccoh  island claim
to know the secret of body exchange. They say that husband and wife, or
lovers, can switch bodies with  each other under certain conditions. Their
witch doctors use it as a form of marriage counseling."

Ginger diverted her eyes from the text in order to add her own
observation. "Of course the writer being a man, therefore genetically slow,
laughs at their beliefs without bothering to check them out."

"Can't you ever stop with this battle of the sexes, Ginger?" pleaded Derek.

She read a little further through the book. "At least he explains how they
say they do it.  Listen . . . there must be a man and a woman who have
engaged with sex with each other. Okay, we've done that. What's the next
. . . ? Oh,  they must both be willing!" 

She stared hard at him expecting some objection.

"Okay! Okay!   Didn't I say I would do it? I've never backed away from 
anything in my life," reassured Derek.

Ginger resumed the instructions. " . . . both must take the herb called the
"Devils Foot."   The dose is about the size of penny. Then they have to sit 
heart to heart eye to eye with each other under a rainbow.  It says that
God will create a bridge between their separate selves, they will leave
their flesh for the other's.  Each will live in their lover's flesh, breath
with their lover's mouths, and see the world through the eyes of their true love. 
Awww, isn't that romantic?"

" No it isn't.  It's downright creepy if you ask me," he shuddered.

She punched his arm. "Its beautiful!  Besides, you might think it's mushy
once you have my emotions and hormones!"

"Wonderful," observed Derek. "Just frigging lovely."

Ginger ignored his reluctance at the idea of the switch.  She admired his
body up and down to see just what she would be getting.

"Stop that," he demanded.  "You're making me feel like a piece of meat."

"You might as well get used to it because a lot of guys look at my body. 
It's going to be your body now."

Derek had no reply.  He didn't want to make matters worse than they
already were.

That didn't halt Ginger in the least.  "Okay.  Now that we know how to do
it lets get to work gathering the ingredients. By tomorrow night, I will be
on my way to winning my bet . . .Miss, soon to be, Thompson."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Up in Heaven, the Big Kahuna watched the events unfold between Derek
and Ginger with great interest.

It had been an extremely long time, aeons actually, since anyone displayed
the insight to perceive the nature of his work.  The mortal woman had
called it a Cosmic Joke.  If it his actions were, in fact, a joke, he was
playing to an audience that was afraid to laugh.

Back in the early days of Earth, men were men, women were women, and
never the twain did meet.  Then there was progress.  The only thing that
didn't progress was the understanding of men and women for each other. 
Truth be told, it appeared that they understood each other less and less,
as time moved forward.

That lack of understanding began to show up in the prayers of the mortals
to him. They bemoaned that the opposite sex seemed more like another
totally different species.  They prayed for him to perform a miracle and
suddenly make them understand the opposite gender.

The Big Kahuna laughed to himself at that last thought.  As if he would
work that way.  Of course, if humans had read the instruction manual,
otherwise known as the  Bible, they would know that he would not
physically control the events that occurred upon earth.  He hadn't ever
since he threw Lucifer out of Heaven.

Wasn't it written that Lucifer had dominion over the Earth?  Yet, the
prayers to understand the opposite sex only continued . . . actually
increased. Had but  the mortals closely read the instruction manual, they
would have realized that the Big Kahuna retained dominion over all things
spiritual.  In later times, scholars came to call him an absentee God.  If
they only knew the true nature of things!

Like a mother with her child, he, as the creator retained a spiritual and
mental rapport with all of his creatures, great and small.  It was a rapport
that Satan lacked and always would.  Neither was he able to duplicate it
by any means, be it technological, or arcane.  Thus, while the fallen one
was able to manipulate things in the mortal world, he could neither "hear"
or sense, its inhabitants thoughts or feelings.  One had to vocalize their
desires to Lucifer in order to traffic with him.  That, naturally, was the
source of the never ending conflict between the Big Kahuna and the Fallen
One.  While the Big Kahuna could mentally "hear" and emphatically feel
the thoughts and inner nature of his creations, the Fallen One could not. 
On the other hand, while Satan could manipulate things in the physical
world, thus tempting or corrupting those natures, the Big Kahuna would
not.

Lately, things had taken a turn for the worse.  Lucifer had undertaken a
massive interbreeding campaign down on Earth to produce powerful
empaths and telepaths, which he controlled.  The gap was closing . . . 
but that is a matter for another tale.

When the Big Kahuna had heard enough mental cries and pleas from his
creations he decided to do the only thing that he could do to satisfy them. 
He altered the nature of his creations.  Men were built strong and
powerful, with the tools to manipulate their environment.  Their minds
were practical, able to put aside the pleasures of the flesh.  Women were
built for that pleasure to procreate.  Thus their minds were made to desire
pleasure, to think of sex.  he Big Kahuna made the minds of the men
desire pleasure, and to think continually about sex, so that they would
understand women.  He made the minds of women practical, and able
to put aside things sexual, so that they would understand men.

**********

"Hey, you're crowing before the sun comes up.  Look, we don't even
know what this Devil's Foot drug is.  Even if we knew what it was, we
probably couldn't get it."  Derek was trying everything in his power to
dissuade Ginger now.  If he sounded a little desperate now, it was
because he was!  The very thought of his soul wearing the body of Ginger
the Red was freaking him out.

". . .Then there's the little matter of a rainbow.   They don't come from
Walmart you know! You just can't order one up for your convenience.
Even if you could locate one, how would you get near it?  They seem to
get farther away the more you try to move toward it," added Derek.

His last point was a valid one.  Any simple course in science would tell
you that a rainbow is a prismatic optical illusion, its very nature and
appearance depending upon where you are standing.  The memory of that
science lesson restored Derek's confidence somewhat.  Even if Ginger
could find Devil's Foot, she could never manage the rainbow trick.

It was just physically impossible.

"Nice of you to be so concerned!  Don't fret your soon to be pretty
head."

Ginger padded over to the computer terminal, and proceeded to hack into 
onto the special toxicology data file. Ginger's talents at times scared the
living crap out of  Derek.  There were times she seemed more like a
spook from the CIA than a pretty co-ed.

"Ah.  There it is.  Devil's Foot . . . used as a ritual hallucinogenic by some
tribal cultures . . . said to produce out of body feelings.  Look.  It says
that the medical toxicology lab has a sample," read Ginger from the monitor.
Then she added, matter of factly, "We'll go in at lunch when most of them
are out and steal some."

CIA, indeed!  It was more like she belonged to the thief's guild.  Although
Ginger seemingly possessed all of the skills and cool nerve of a  master
thief,  he did not.  It made Derek very nervous.

"Hey!" he gulped. 

"Cluck, Cluck! She taunted. "I thought you were the man who never
backs away from anything?"

Me and my big month, he thought bitterly.  Little did he anticipate that
his promise would lead to an ever spiraling life of crime.

**********

"I got us some White coats from the Engineering lab," chirped Ginger
when they met outside the toxicology lab after morning classes.  As usual,
she was prepared for every contingency . . . even disguise.

"You know, you missed your calling.  You would have made a great
secret agent!  I just hope men in white coats won't fight for our business
if we get caught, and after we tell them exactly what we're up to."

"Keep the faith! Derek."

The two lovers waited outside the medical research lab until the wild rush
of students and lab assistants rushed away toward the nearby eateries. 
Ginger waited for her opening, then walked into the lab like she owned the
place.  Derek cautiously brought up the rear, thinking that maybe Ginger
would make a better man.  She had a big enough set of balls . . . at least
in the metaphorical sense.  All he could hope was that it eventually
wouldn't be in the literal sense, since it would be his big balls.

Why did I get involved with such a nut, Derek  asked himself mentally? It
wasn't the first time he posed that particular question. 

They made our way through toxic chemical and drug lab. Ginger, with her
usual ease, opened each locked door. Fortunately, the lab was
unoccupied. Derek didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Ginger struggled with the cabinet lock for a few long, tense minutes while
swearing at it. It was some special lock that resisted her skills.

Derek looked around. He spied a lab coat flung across a chair.
Desperately, he felt around in the pocket, ultimately locating set of keys.
Against his better judgment, he handed them over to the perspiring girl.

"Will these be any help?"

"Bite me!" was her reply. Then she grinned. "Thanks! I guess I'm more
scared than I thought."

Ginger took out a bottle in order to read the label.  The very first try was
successful.  "Ah . . . just what the doctor ordered.  Devil's Foot."

"Who are you?   What  are you doing here?" demanded an angry male
voice.  

By the text of the demand it was obvious that whoever it was only saw
one of them   Ginger's head turned toward the voice since it was she that
had been seen  An irate professor stood by a door, around the corner of
the cabinet.  From that vantage point, he couldn't see Derek . . . only
Ginger.

Ginger deduced that the prof had already called security from the
telephone receiver in his hand.  With one hand behind her, she motioned
for Derek to make his way toward an open window they had noticed
earlier.  He was only too eager to comply. 

The old man turned white, put down the receiver,  pulled the door shut
behind him as he went back outside screaming, " HELP. HELP. HELP."

By that time, Derek was already out of the window, onto the ledge.  He
was joined a few seconds later by Ginger, who shoved him a little further
onto the ledge to make room for herself. he almost fell four stories.  He
cursed at her. She ignored him and shoved some more,  The two of  them
crawled along  he narrow path of the ledge to a drain pipe.  He slid down
first, and caught Ginger as she jumped thereafter . . . her eyes tightly
closed. 

Derek and Ginger shed the coats into the hedges, then made a run for
it.  Soon they were in the safety of other crazy looking students. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Up in Heaven, the Big Kahuna smiled, with a  benevolent that could not
be duplicated by frail humanity..  He truly like this Ginger the Red, as she
was so called.  Her actions, attitude, and moxie marked her as one who
truly deserved to be a man. Already she was far along the path outlined
by the Ubatttahah.

That path was another witty little joke perpetrated by the Big Kahuna.
Mortals needed for some reason to believe in things such as magic. 
Sometimes it was useful for him to create the illusion of magic.  He
wondered what his creations would think if the could divine the real nature
of the spells and incantations that they used.  They were merely tests to
determine at times the purity of their request, or their determination in
seeing the "magic" through to the end, or their willingness to make personal
sacrifices.  The purpose is allow the Big Kahuna to observe the one who
sought to use the "magic" in the collection of the ingredients.  

It was thus that the Big Kahuna first whispered the "spell" for the transfer
of spirits to the shaman of the Ubatttahah, low, so many years ago.  The
"cosmic joke," as Ginger the Red had called it, by that time, had even
begun to effect the most primitive of tribes.  Being a tribe that was
unsullied by progress, they were the least equipped to handle the change
in their spirits.  Their cries to put things right was the purest . . .and the
loudest.

He decided to help them in the only way that he could.  He planted the
elaborate way to attract his attention, among the countless other millions
of distractions, prayers, and requests.  The method so outlined would call
to the Big Kahuna like music, singing itself out.

So had Ginger the Red distinguished herself.  If she, through strength of
will, and wit of mind, complete the tasks, little more than a scavenger hunt, 
she would be granted what only the Big Kahuna could do.  What he
made, he can unmake.  His hand can create the corridor by which the
spirit, the very soul, of one of his creations could be exchanged for that of
he other.  It was he, and only he, who could pluck the living soul out of
one bodily shell and place it into another!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She kissed Derek with a fire borne of her excitement.  Derek had seen this
passion in her before.  Dangerous things turned her on.  Up until now it
was only having sex in public places.  This heralded a potential escalation
in their foreplay.       

"That was fun!" she whispered softly into his ear.  Her heart was beating
very fast now.  Her nipples were swollen in the excitement, her nether
regions lubricating in anticipation of further stimulation.

Derek, however, did not notice the underlying intent in Ginger words and
manner.  Danger did nothing for him. "Fun? We almost get arrested and
expelled . . .for what?  Would you mind  telling me just why we are doing
this again?"

His attitude was enough to cool Ginger's passions.

"God's Cosmic Joke. I want to prove that I, and women in general would
make better men.  Men would make better woman, the cowards!" 

The sexual energy of the moment had all but dissipated.  Ginger looked
over to Derek who had not yet formulated a response to her last
statement.  She seized the chance to give Derek further instructions that
would insure his march toward maidenhood.

"You can pick me up at seven for dinner.  Lets make a big night of it. It
will be the last time I will able to get all dolled up, and have some man buy
me dinner for a while." She grinned sending chills down Derek's spine.

Ginger thoughtfully  tucked the Devil's Foot into her huge purse.  She
kissed him good-bye before heading back to her sorority, Tri-Delt.

**********

Derek felt a little like the carpenter who helped  to build the guillotine for
his own neck. Never the less he was . . . curious.  Although it was
embarrassing, he spent the remainder of the day conducting his own little
research poll.  He asked a few of the  girls that he knew if they would
rather be men or woman.  He also asked a few of his teammates at
practice, drawing rather strange facial expressions.  Derek explained that
it was for his sociology class.  He got back some mixed responses.  The
most universal response was that almost everybody, at some point in their
life, wondered what it was like for the opposite sex.

Derek wondered why he never even contemplated such a thing.  Surely
some of these other guys were better able to handle what was now a
closer possibility for him.  That didn't help matters.  He felt like calling 
Ginger up, and breaking up with her.   He wanted to tell her to forget the
whole thing. 

Pride prevented him from doing so.   Pride, and the fact that he really
did love the little shit!  

**********     

Ginger brazenly dressed right in front of him.  She told him, with a smirk,
that he should know how to do it when he inherited the body.

God, but was she beautiful, thought Derek as he watched.  The emerald
green gown coupled with her eyes and shining hair just about made his
heart  leap right out of his body. He just sat  in awe.

"Thanks for the compliment," she said. "You're very sweet! But just think.
After tomorrow, you lucky guy,  this beauty will all be yours. Be careful
not to wear too much make-up out. I don't want people to think your a
tramp!" She laughed.  He didn't

"Stop it!  You're giving me the creeps!"  Now it was his turn to have
passion cooled by ill chosen words.

"Okay!  Let's not talk shop tonight and just have some fun." 
     
What fun it was!  It was a great evening, after which they found their way
into bed.  That night, their lovemaking seemed a bit more unrestrained then
usual.  It was wild . . . almost primal.  Ginger was like a prisoner upon
death row eating her last meal.  Later, as he dressed to go back to his
room he  looked down at Ginger dozing.  The response that he had
sampled from his impromptu poll, earlier in the day, came back to him. 
There, hidden within the dark folds of night, for the first time wondered
what it would be like to be Ginger.

What it would be like to be so short and petite?  She was barely 5' tall,
where he was 6'4".  Derek wondered what it would be like to be so soft
and smooth, rather than hard and muscular as he was. Lastly, he
wondered what it would be like to be so shapely . . . to have those big tits
dangling from his chest.  Derek found himself  idly wondering what it
would feel like to have their weight on his chest.

Derek's thoughts were rewarded by a growing erection.  That was enough
to snap him out of his reverie.  Oh my God, he thought.  What am I
thinking?  He practically ran out of Ginger's room toward the safe haven
of his own dorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Big Kahuna smiled yet one more time.  Derek  didn't really
appreciated what was about to happen to him. He reminded him
somewhat of James Alexander Edwards. 

He was the original researcher of the Ubatttahah tribe, and the author of
the very text that Derek located in the library stacks.  He, like Derek, also
doubted the veracity of the claims of the Ubattahah tribe.  Therefore,
sometime after completing the text, in the early 1950's, Edwards decided
to try the spell for himself.

The Big Kahuna recalled that Edwards was just as resourceful as Ginger
the Red had proven to be.  He also acquired the Devil's Foot, and figured
out the riddle of the rainbow.  Imagine Edward's surprise when he was
actually able to swap bodies with his girlfriend of the time.  She was a
young model, of little renown, named Norma Jean.

The rest, as they say, is history.  Mortals always wondered what triggered
the metamorphosis from a girl named Norma Jean into the sexiest woman
who ever lived . . . Marilyn Monroe.  What would they say if they knew
that their sex goddess was once actually a man, formerly know as James
Alexander Edwards?

Despite Edward's massive intellect, his mind, already conditioned to think
about sex, was the perfect match for the body.  The result was inevitable!

That made the Big Kahuna stop for a second.  Perhaps it was a Cosmic
Joke after all.  Except the joke was on any man who sought to find the
punch line of that joke, for they would find themselves in no better position
than what Edwards did.

Men would come to understand women after all because by making the
switch, the rendered themselves the way women used to be back in the
early days. That was where men were men, and women were women!

Yes.  The Big Kahuna would help them.  This was the beginning of the
end.  If this worked out, he could put everything back the way it was
before.  The only thing was that all men would be women, and all of the
women would be men . . . full circle! Their prayers would be answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning was Thursday.  Derek had  planned to sack out, as he
didn't have any classes,but  was instead rudely awakened by the a knock 
on the door of his dorm room. He groggily rolled out of bed to give the 
intruder a piece of his mind. The clock on the wall read 7:25 a.m.  Who 
could be calling at such an ungodly hour? 

"Go away!"  He called through the door.

"Let me in Derek.  It's Ginger," was the soft reply.

"I'm not here."

"Bite me!"  was the ever familiar come back.  It was her answer for
everything.  

She opened the door with the key Derek had foolishly given her, in a
gesture of affection.  It was as close as he had ever gotten to a 
commitment.

" Boy you look awful.  Brush your teeth.  Comb that hair.  Get dressed,"
Ginger barked out the orders like a drill instructor.  "Time's a wasting!"

Glumly, like untold men since the beginning of time, he found it easier to
do what he was told, rather than argue. That especially held true with
Ginger.  If you looked in the dictionary under the phrase "fiery redhead"
you would no doubt find her picture as an illustration.  Like some jungle
cat sizing up its prey, Ginger sat on the sofa with her legs curled
underneath her, and just watched.

While Derek dressed in silence, Ginger told him the good news.  Well, it 
was good news at least as far as she was concerned. "OK. I've go the
rainbow part all figured out. Isn't that great?"

"Yeah.  That's just terrific!" he grumbled.

"Now, now.  Don't be a sore loser.  Just think.  In a hour or so, you'll  be
able to put your hands on these to your heart's content."  Again, Ginger
lifted her boobs up with both hands, indicating what she meant.

Derek didn't need to look.  He knew exactly what she meant, and, after
last night's brief fantasy about owning them himself, couldn't bring  himself
to look.  The idea of being as soft, short, and beautiful as Ginger was
strangely erotic.
     
"Hey, I haven't lost yet.  Just caused we found some crap in a book, and
got some dangerous drug,  doesn't mean squat! We just won't switch
bods.  It's just Fuckin' impossible."

"You'll have to watch your language when you become a lady," she
remarked demurely.

"Why , little Miss Bite Me?"

She poked Derek in the rib cage. "We won't go into that.  Let's just say
it has to do with your reputation.  You wouldn't want people thinking  you
are a whore, now would you?"

That mind numbing thought was enough to shut Derek up.

"Pick me up at 11:00.  That's a.m., not p.m.  I want you to wear your
leather jacket, your black turtle neck, your black dress slacks, and decent
dress shoes."

"Since when do you tell me what to wear?"

"Since now!" she punched Derek playfully. "That bod will soon belong  to
me. I want it to wear what I find cool. Hey, you can tell me what to wear,
since, after our experiment, you'll find yourself wearing it."

He felt like twisting her head off.  Ginger was really rubbing his nose in it!
Nevertheless, he was trapped by his own promise. He had togo along
with the gag.

"Okay. Wear your tight, low cut white silk blouse, leather mini-skirt, and
those high heel black boots that I like."

"Oh, you sexy little thing!" she laughed loudly.  "You're going to look so
darling in that outfit!" 

Ginger unceremoniously departed, but not before standing on her tip toes
to give Derek a kiss on the cheek.  God, she is so short, mused Derek.
Despite her departure, the wheels of his mind continued to turn.
     
It couldn't work. In away, he wished Ginger's stupid, silly female  fantasy
would work.  She acted so tough all of the time, imagining herself to be a
man. I just might teach her how hard it is to really be man all of the way.
The pressure on men is too tough.  The real world expects men to be
successful, competitive and places all kinds of responsibility upon their
shoulders. She was clueless.  The world for all of its technological and
cultural advances still expects nothing of women.

If this was successful, and Derek was not admitting to himself that it would
be, it would almost be a vacation for him.  He never expected that they
would get this far on this quest, so he had to be ready just in case.  

He figured that all it would take was a few days in his body, and she 
would come running back.  All he would have to do is just sit back and
relax He could use a few days off from football practice!

**********
At Eleven, Derek reluctantly  picked Ginger up at the Tri-Delt sorority.
She did look gorgeous  in her only sexy outfit. The high heeled boots set
off her great legs, and the silk blouse drew attention to her perfect boobs.

A few of her friends giggled at them as they left.  That was absolutely the
last thing that he needed . . . the best looking and most popular girls on
campus mocking him, laughing at him!

"You didn't tell them about your silly scheme, did you?" he inquired.

She looked awfully guilty. "Well . . . " she started, averting her eyes.

"Forget it!" Derek snapped.  "Woman just can't keep their mouth's shut.
You all are sure  going to be damned embarrassed when it doesn't work."

"Oh, just bite me!" Again, there was her favorite, all purpose, retort.

**********

Ginger took  him to a  deserted  park. There was a man-made waterfall
roaring in the center of the park. The mist from the falling water combined
with the sun  made a continuous rainbow.  Derek had to admit the setting
was beautiful, even though he knew in his heart of hearts that he was but
one heartbeat away from becoming her!  He resisted the panic impluse to
run for his life.

She dug into her huge purse, retrieving two pre-measured doses of the
pilfered drug. Ginger kept one dose for herself, and handed the other 
over to her companion.

"Are you sure this stuff won't kill us? " Derek asked her dubiously.

"Just take it Stop being such a big baby!" 

Ginger demonstrated by playfully tossing the dose into the air, and then
catching it with her mouth as one would do with popcorn.  As soon as 
she began chewing, she got a sour look upon her face.  

"Eck!  This stuff tastes terrible."

"What would you expect from something named Devil's Foot?  Candy?"

Ginger gestured for him to take his dose so he followed suit.  However,
it was not in as colorful a method as she utilized.  Derek found, as  she did
only seconds before, that it did taste terrible.

"Ewww.  Yuck!" he spat.

"Oh, don't be such a little girl.  You're gonna be one in a few minutes
anyway." quipped Ginger.  She grabbed Derek's hand to lead him away
from the front of the waterfall.

They two of them made their way behind the man-made rocks of the
waterfall.  There they found a doorway leading into the rocks.  It wasn't
locked.  Ginger went in first, pulling Derek in afterward. Inside they found
a little alcove, directly underneath the falling water.  They could both felt
the spray of the mist of the water.

Sure enough, the prismatic effect of the mist and sun, went right over their
heads.  Ginger and Derek were sitting right underneath a rainbow.

The took their seats, cross legged and facing each other.  In a few
minutes, each felt a little dizzy.   Heart faced heart. Their eyes were locked
on each other. Derek's blue eyes stared into her green ones. The
waterfall's overpowering roar grew louder, but then faded away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The equation was completed.  The Big Kahuna saw that Ginger had
demonstrated her sincerity by fulfilling the requirements set forth by the
text. With that, he reached down to the two still lovers, and into their
souls. With one hand, he liberated the soul, or the very essence of Ginger's 
being from her shell.  He did the same with Derek.  Each soul was still
connected to its respective body by a silver cord.  It is the umbilicus that
connects body and soul, and if severed, meant certain death for that
individual.

This is the tricky part, thought the Big Kahuna.  Satan, for all of  his
power, cannot do this.  Oh, transformation of a body into a new form is
easy enough.  That was no trick at all.  Transformation of the soul is quite
another.  Metamorphosis is simply the alteration of one thing to look  like
another.  Alchemy is the complete transformation of one thing into another.

Only the Big Kahuna can do the alchemy of the soul.

Deftly, with the skill of a practiced surgeon, he severed both of the silver
cords of Derek and Ginger.  However, he did not let their detached souls
float free toward the light, as the would have done had this been actual
death.  Instead, he moved the end of the silver cord that was
still connected to the soul of Ginger closer to the end of the silver cord that
was still connected to the body of Derek. Those two ends danced for a
second around each other before finally touching.  The commenced to
weave together to form a new umbilicus. There was no seem to indicate
that the silver cord had ever been severed.

The Big Kahuna watched as the soul of Ginger, which still looked exactly
like that of her body began to blur.  It began to take on size, as it began
its transformation to match the form of the host body.  It would be a few
days, as mortals measured time for that alchemy to be completed.

He duplicated the process with Derek's soul, and Ginger's body.  The  Big
Kahuna watched as the soul of Derek began to diminish somewhat in its
journey to match that of his new body.

With but a single gesture, the souls lowered into their new bodies, as if
being reeled in by the repaired silver cords.

"And so it begins," declared the Big Kahnua

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rapid beating of his heart was the only sensation that Derek had that
he was still alive.  There was no sight, no sound, no taste, no smell  and 
no tactile sensations. That beating felt like it would crash its way through 
his chest. Something was wrong. The drug had done something to him. 

Then vision returned. The eyes that Derek was staring into somehow had
change color, and had become blue. Then the rest of the world, as well 
as remaining senses returned. Derek breathed air into his lungs with great
gulps. He instantly felt the weight of breasts on his chest.  Derek looked 
down to see the creamy  bust of Ginger, covered with freckles, in a low
cut silk blouse.
 
He shook his head in disbelief only to see long red hair swirl in front
of his eyes.  

Horrified, he looked up again and just stared. Across from him he saw his 
face grinning back. I must have fainted, he rationalized in a panic. I am
hallucinating!  It's the damn drug.

"This isn't real!" Derek cried aloud.  His voice was a piercing soprano,
demonstrating that it wasn't a dream.  It was all too real.

The man opposite Derek just laughed, announcing in triumph, "I told you
it would work! Oh, ye of little faith."

His delicate hands dropped to his chest.  They lifted Ginger's large
breasts, and squeezing them to see if they were real. They were Derek's
boobs now.
 
Derek grew both fearful and exited while touching them.  The large nipples
on the tips of those breasts began to swell from the touch of his hands
Then, he felt larger hands pushing his smaller ones away.  He was being
fondled by Ginger in his old body.

"Don't," Derek whispered breathlessly as he tried to push Ginger's now
large hands away.  The excitement of the body in which his soul now
resided was, however, hard to ignore.  The pounding of Ginger's heart 
roared in his ears.

"Don't what, Ginger?  Don't stop?" his old face grinned at him, pointedly
utilizing the name of the body he wore.  

The real Ginger didn't stop as Derek requested her to do.  Instead, she
slipped one of those large hand down the top of the silk blouse, under the
one of the cups of the under wire bra, to a hard, erect nipple.  She began
to roll it between finger and thumb, knowing from years of experience that
it was something her former body liked very much.

Derek opened his new mouth to protest anew, but he wasn't even able to
say a word. His old lips descended upon his newer ones, with a firm kiss. 
Ginger's hands were so insistent . . . and felt so good upon the nipples. It
was if there was a direct current running from those nipples to Derek's
nether regions.  He felt a warmth, and a sensation of moistness growing
ever so slowly there.  The sensations were starting to overwhelm the
capacity of his male mind to handle.  Quite involuntarily, he parted the full
lips to let out a low moan.

As soon as those lips parted, the tongue of Derek's former body slipped
between them, past shining teeth, and onto his new tongue. He found
himself returning the kiss. He accepted the tongue into his mouth, licking
it with his own.

Derek's toes, inside the high heels, curled up.  He felt the power of the
kiss from head to foot.

Ginger broke the kiss in order to address her former body.

"Haven't you always wondered what sex felt like for me, or your other
girls. Here's your chance to see what a stud you are." Ginger
propositioned, while seductively nibbling at a pearly ear.

Derek felt his breaths growing short and rapid, as female hormones were
released into the blood stream.

"Is your pussy wet yet, Ginger?" whispered the real Ginger seductively.
Being referred to by her very feminine name turned him on even more.

"Yes, God damn you!" cried Derek, trying to sound forceful.  He failed
miserably.  The combination of Ginger's attention, and dirty talk were
overloading the circuits of this new brain.

"Good because my dick is certainly hard."  She took one of Derek's tiny
manicured hands, and placed it on the bulge in her pants.

Quite in spite of himself, Derek found it impossible to resist feeling the
bulge that used to be his.  In mere seconds, he was fondling her erection
through the pants by rubbing it up and down.

"That's right, Ginger," urged the real Ginger.  With her free hand, ran the
fingers through Derek's long auburn hair. "Ginger the Red," she
commented using her own nickname.

That name made the craziest idea play across Derek's mind.  Maybe I am
Ginger.  This all feels so natural . . . so, so right.  Maybe I was never
Derek at all.  I was just dreaming that I was Derek because I wanted to
be him so badly.  That must be it.  I really am Ginger, and I'm just waking
up from a dream.

It was the only way that Derek's crumbling male ego could cope with what
was happening to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Big Kahuna watched the scene play out below him with great 
interest.  He could perceive the spirit at work inside the separate bodies
at play. Usually, it took a few days for the transplanted soul to take on
the shape of its new home.  However, in this case one of those
transplanted souls was reshaping itself at a much more accelerated pace.

While the shape of Ginger's soul retained the shape of her former body,
for the most part, Derek's was rapidly altering to take on a decidedly
feminine aspect.  It was as if his soul was made to be inside Ginger's
body.

The Big Kahuna knew his two creations didn't truly understood the nature
of what had happened to them.  It wasn't like a brain  transplant, or mind
swap, that was popularized by mortal fiction.  This was a transmigration
of souls! That meant that the memories of the host body remained with the
host body.  Memories, being a creation of both the soul and biochemical
processes of the brain, mostly remained with that brain. So to did the
body's learned habits and reflexes.  The body would remember what to
do. Although a duplicate of the memories of the host body went with the 
soul to its new body, they would in time fade.  Those memories where just
going on momentum.  Even though the soul would always know who it
was, and recall those former experiences, much like information read 
from a book, eventually there would be no emotional connection with
them.  

In time it would seem as if those experiences had occurred to another, or
had occurred in another lifetime.

As time moved forward, the transplanted soul would establish an
emotional connection to the native memories of the new host body.  Such
was the nature of things.  However, that which made a soul special unto
itself would never be diminished.  Underneath it all they would still be the
person they were, with those views and attitudes, with those strengths and
weakness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two lovers changed position so that Ginger's bulge pressed into
Derek's genital mound. She felt her old friend rubbed against her swollen
vulva and clitoris, and her excitement grew. 

What is happening to me? Derek asked herself.  Am I becoming a sex
slave?  Was Derek's . . . er, Ginger's crazy theory right? It was getting so
hard to remember who was who. Nevertheless, she couldn't . . . nay
wouldn't stop. She  kissed Ginger again, whilst tilting broad  hips upward
to rub soft loins against the hard bulge. Derek took delight in Ginger's
groans and of  the mounting pressure. 

They both just lost control.  Somehow their clothes were off in an instant
Derek heard himself moaning again, as she felt the very tip of Ginger's
penis separate the folds of her lower lips.  Her entire being was  consumed
by the urge to have it within.

"Please!" she begged the real Ginger. "I want to feel you inside of  me."
She grabbed the shaft of the cock to guide it into the sweet, hot, wet 
place. 

Suddenly her former manhood plunged deeply into this new pussy.  The
sensation of being penetrated made the eyes roll back into her head.  He
felt the wet inner tissue of the vagina mold itself around the hard organ
sliding in and out of her. She thought the pleasure was going to never end.
It filled up every atom of Derek's being. I must be Ginger, she thought. It
is the only thing that makes sense out of the madness. 

SHE clawed at the male body above HER in a frenzy of erotic energy.. 

"Don't stop! Don't stop!" SHE urged breathlessly.  Each stroke of  Ginger
into HER pushed Derek further toward the precipice of HER first female 
orgasm. With out warning, Derek sensed Ginger had stopped thrusting. 
Yet HE grew harder still within the hungry pussy.  SHE knew what was
coming next. 

Instinctively, Derek contracted  vaginal muscles around that wonderful
peace of meat.  SHE felt warm cum erupt  into the center of HER new
body.  Its heat sent a pleasant warmth into this new uterus that spread like
wildfire through the rest of the wonderful  body.

Derek was locked in the embrace of a full female orgasm. 

Minutes later, after catching her breath, she  felt Ginger grow soft within. 
Derek was overwhelmed with emotions of intimacy and tenderness such
that she had never experienced before. With the cessation of the demands
of this new body, she was able to remember exactly who she really was,
as well as what had happened to her.  Nevertheless, Derek caressed her
former body lovingly.  There was a sensuous pleasure that resulted from
touching any part of Ginger's new body. 

"When do you think you'll be up for another go?" Derek whispered
urgently to Ginger.

The real Ginger laughed. "I knew it!  I just knew it would be this way.
Give me a little time Ginger, and I will try to get it up again."

Ginger rolled onto his strong back.  Derek curled up into the crook of his
big arm.  She draped one slender arm across the hairy chest, while laying 
her red head on a pectoral muscle.  Unconsciously, she had assumed a
traditional feminine position. 

She looked up into her former  masculine face, asking, "Did you enjoy it? 
As a man I mean?"

Ginger ran his fingers through Derek's long, lovely hair.  "It was great.  I
felt so strong and powerful.  I was so in control. How about you?"

"Me? I only submitted to your vile, masculine lusts.  I took no pleasure in
it."  Derek responded sweetly.

"Sure you did!"  Ginger started to stroke those great , tempting  tits again.

"Easy," Derek winced.  " Not so rough now.  They're a little tender."

"Sorry, I forgot."

Gently, Derek reached down  to check on their friend. Their conversation
about their respective experiences was getting it hard again.  Tenderly,
Derek found herself playing with it. First it was a soft caress, almost a pet.
Soon, her tiny hand had encircled its girth and was urging it to attention
with full lingering strokes. She would have it ready for more fun and games
in no time . . . that is, if memory were true in this new fascinating flesh. 

Derek turned to nibble at Ginger's muscled throat.

"Oh, Riiigght!  You just submitted, huh? Bite me! You little fiend! You little
minx!"  Ginger teased while grabbing her former irresistible, soft curvy
form.  "Now let me show you what that body can do to your mind."

Derek giggled. "I'm from Missouri. Show me!"

"You lie! You're from Ohio!"

Derek's breaths came quicker " Close enough!"

Derek and Ginger emerged from the alcove beneath the waterfall, albeit 
a somewhat  disheveled, approximately an hour after they entered.  There
was a slight  difference . . . Derek's soul was contained within the vessel 
of Ginger's body, and vice versa.  In the entire time that the two of  them
were cramped into the relatively small confines of the alcove, neither had
the opportunity to fully stand and experience their newfound perspectives.. 

Poor Derek found herself feeling a little intimidated standing  next to a
giant Ginger.

Although, while they were locked in each other's embrace, each had a
taste of their increased, or diminished proportions.  The distraction of sex
had pushed this well into the background.  Now that they were outside,
and able to stand fully erect, Derek and Ginger saw the world from an
entirely new vantage point..

"I-I'm so short," gasped Derek in Ginger's lilting soprano.  In the short
time in Ginger's body, she had automatically adopted the bodies natural
tone and timbre.

Ginger looked down . . .way, way down, from her 6'4" height and
laughed.  "Of course.  You're only 4'11 1/2" tall now. What did you
expect?"

"I'm not even 5' tall?"she whined.

"Nope.  You're just a wee little girl now.  Judging by what just happened,
I think you're going to enjoy life from down there.  I know that I'm going
to enjoy life from up here. My God, it's like on on top of a mountain.  I
can actually see things!"

"Please tell me how can I enjoy being shorter than everybody?"

Ginger observed, "You're not just shorter than everybody, Ginger. You're
also, softer, and quite a bit weaker than everybody."

"I wish you would stop calling me Ginger.  That's not my name you know."

"It is now.  To the entire world you're Ginger Thompson, sister at Tri-Delt
sorority.  You might as well start getting used to it," remarked the real
Ginger, grinning.

"Can't we at least call each other by our real names when we're together?"
requested Derek.

Ginger couldn't look her old body in the eye.  Further, his hesitation 
indicated to Derek that something was amiss.  All that he could say was,
"Uh . . "

Derek did not want to push Ginger her at this stage of the game.  She felt
so tiny and vulnerable.  She moved to closer to what had been her former
body, trying to curl a tiny, slender hand into Ginger's larger one.

"I don't care what you call me as long as we're together!" Derek conceded
passionately, and tried to kiss Ginger. She drew back. Instinctively,
intuitively Derek knew something was very wrong.

Ginger looked down at his former body.  A tear formed in his eye as he
gazed down at Derek. "Damn.  I didn't think it was going to be this hard."

"What?" asked Derek in a panic, trying to hold on tighter, even as Ginger
pulled away.

"Uh . . . I don't think that we should see each other anymore,  Ginger," the
authentic Ginger said.

Derek was positively stunned.  "Y-you're breaking up with me n-now?
After all I done for you , after I gave you my body?  I have you're body,
and feel so vulerable! How could you?  How could . . . ."

She started to sob, interrupting her outburst in the process.

Ginger tried to explain.  "I love you.  I do.  However, if we're to find out
whether you make a better woman, and I make a better man, we have to
break up.  Otherwise we'll never find out."

Derek protested.  "I-I can't.  I couldn't do what I just did with another
guy.  I could only do it because it was you . . . I mean me.  You know
what I mean.  I only did it because I love you. I only agreed to this crazy
experiment because I love you!"

"That's my point exactly.  The whole thing is pointless unless we
experience fully what it is like to be the other.  It's not forever.  It's
just until one of us admits it to the other.  Then we'll be together again, I
promise, no matter how it turns out."

"You really love me?" questioned Derek.  It was the first time Ginger
had said those three little words.

"Yes," Ginger said simply.  This time he looked Derek  right in the eye to
demonstrate  sincerity.

Derek smiled through her  tears.  "I love you, too."

Despite the situation Ginger smiled too.  "I don't believe it.  It took a sex
change for us to admit our love for each other!"

There was a long, pregnant pause.

Finally Derek said, "So it's I love you . . . good-bye?"

"Ginger, It's not forever.  It's only until the bet's over.  If our love can't
survive this brief separation, maybe we aren't meant to be together.  It's
better that we find out now."

Ginger had called her by her own name again. The trouble was that she
getting used to it!

As hard as it was, Derek accepted it, and the flawless logic.  The beautiful
new face reflected the profound sadness within his spirit. He almost feel
like giving in now.
  
"I'll miss you,  Derek," she called Ginger to show  acceptance. God, her
aching heart felt like it was being torn from her chest. 

"I'll miss you, too, Ginger."

They embrace tightly, ending in a soulful kiss.  The embrace lingered on
and on, neither wanting to separate, although each knew that they had to.
Derek felt her new prominent breasts flatten in to the lower chest/upper
abdomen of her real body.  

I'm  really short now, she panicked.  Can I ever used to to being so tiny?

"What do we do now?" inquired Derek, pulling away.  The embrace was
starting to get her turned on yet again.

"You go back to Tri-Delt, and I go back to your dorm.  We just pick up
each other's life where it left off.  The only exception is that we tell
everybody else that we broke up.  We only see each other again when
one of us is willing to admit defeat to the other.  Agreed?"  Ginger stuck
his hand out to shake on it.

Derek reluctantly stuck her hand out as well. Ginger squeezed it too tight,
and she winched with the pain. They shook to cement the deal. 

"Agreed."

"I guess this is good-bye then," whispered Ginger huskily, playing the man. 
"I'll see you around. campus Ginger."

"I'll see you  Derek." replied Derek in  broken tones. "But there is one thing
you must promise me!"

"What's that?" asked a curious Ginger.

"You must not tell anybody that you are not Derek, especially my . . . your
sorority sisters! It will be hard enough for me to live your life without them
snickering at me."

"That's fair.  Can I tell them later, after we switch back?" Ginger
answered.

"Okay. I'm going to miss you!" she started sobbing again.

Ginger spun on his heel, and walked out of Derek's life.

Derek was  left with her body, watching what she  had once been her
strong  male body walking away. It didn't turn back. The new body that
her soul dwelled in naturally contained a lot of emotion.  Real tears
continued to fall from Derek's eyes, as she watched the love of her life
walk away.  She was lonely already.

**********

The new Ginger made her way back to the Tri-Delt sorority.  The first
steps in Ginger's body had been awkward ones.  The balance and center
of gravity was all wrong.  Her breasts jiggled with every movement, and
just  seemed to get in the way of everything.  The high heels didn't help
much either.

She cursed  . . . herself, for requesting, as a joke, that Ginger wear
the high heels boots.
 
Ginger  would have to start thinking of herself as a "she" now.  She would
have to start thinking of herself as Ginger the Red.

Then, an unusual thing happened.  With each step the new Ginger began
to feel more comfortable in her body.  With each new step, Ginger  began
to feel more and more natural.  By the time she reached the gate to the
park, she was walking exactly like the real Ginger used to.  

Even the constant bobbing of her tits was becoming less noticeable.  The
high heels suddenly felt very, very natural, like she had worn them
for years!.

In no time at all, Ginger found her way back to the sorority.  More strange
things began to happen.  Although she had never been inside the sorority
house (it was forbidden for any man to enter Tri-Delt), everything looked
vaguely familiar.  She seemed to know where everything was.

It occurred to Ginger that she had all of the memories of the real Ginger
available to her.  Even her body had resumed the reflexes and movements
of its former animating soul.  That was a relief to Ginger. At least she
wouldn't have a problem convincing others that she was Ginger.  She
wondered just how much of the real Ginger's memories she had?

That question was answered in short shrift.  A girl whom she had never
seen before in her life approached.  Yet, she too seemed familiar.  As
soon as the girl, who was quite a bit taller than Ginger, saw Ginger, she
rushed to her side.

"Ginger?  You've been crying.  What's wrong?"

The name of the girl popped into Ginger's head.  "Tiffany.  It-it's Derek. 
W-we broke up today." sobbed Ginger.  The memory made her tears
come again.  She wasn't faking this heart break.

Tiffany took Ginger into her arms to console her.  "Don't you worry
Ginger.  The big jerk doesn't deserve you.  There are other fish in the sea.
. . ."

Several of the other sisters of Tri-Delt came hurrying up. They were just
curious to see if the body switch had really worked. Some of them even
harbored a secret desire to use the technique on their current boyfriends
if it did! However, when they saw how upset 'Ginger' was about the
break-up, they naturally assmued the she was the "real McCoy". Only
one of the girls, Carol Phelps, thought to make absolutely certain..

"I want to make sure you're really Ginger . . .Ginger. Tell us the secret
code word you gave us before you tried the switch, to prove you are who
you say you are.  That is what you asked us to do as a test."

The other girls immediately chastised Carol for being so insensitive. This
was clearly not the time for such silly tests.

Interestingly, 'Ginger' had no trouble answering the question.  The real
Ginger had incorrectly assumed that Derek would not have access to that
knowledge.  However, the brain Derek was using  had a complete set of
Ginger's memories.  They were memories that he could use.

"DiCaprio rules. Cruise drools," returned Ginger without a moment's
hesitation.  He was slipping more and more into Ginger's persona. He felt
that as the minutes passed by, his own persona was becoming secondary
to that of Ginger's, almost like it was being sucked down a whirlpool
created by that rainbow.

"Sorry, Ginger I just had to make certain.," Carol apologized. "So what
happened?  Why did that jerk break up with you? Was it because you
threatened his precious masculinity with your little experiment?"

"I-I guess that is partly it," Ginger hesitated, trying to think of some
reason to tell them. The lie was spoken with genuine emotion.  "H-he said
that we were getting too serious, that we needed to take a break from each 
other."

The last part did have a little element of truth to it.

"Oh, God!" blurted Susan Sullivan. "That sounds awfully familiar! Men are
such bastards sometimes. Did he say that you too were getting too close?
Did he claim that you needed to test your love by breaking up, and dating
others?  You have to prove if your love is real?"

Derek as Ginger looked stunned.  It was almost as if this girl had read her
mind.  "Just about.  H-how did you know?"

Susan snorted indignently, " When guys think we're trying  to drag them
to the alter they  often come up with some crap like that. I think they all
hire the same script writer.  Ass holes!"

That brought a round of vociferous agreement from the rest of the girls that
had gathered around. It occured to Ginger that this may be a universal
experience of all girls.  Still, it rang true.  Those were almost the very
words, to the letter, that she used to break up with her last girlfriend.

She suddenly felt very guilty, and ashamed for what she had done to her
last girlfriend.  If  nothing else, she had learned a very valuable lesson
from all of this.

The new Ginger didn't know what to do,  so she started to cry again. The
volitale swirl of emotion were very difficult to control.  Perhaps, the most
difficult to deal with was the fact that she was starting to feel feminine.
The increasingly familliar camraderie of the sisters was making her feel like one
of the girls.  She was starting to think of herself as Ginger!

"I think I need to go and lie down for awhile.  Maybe I'll  take a good hot
bath," Ginger excused herself.  She needed to get away from the sisters
and think.

Tiffany gave her a heartfelt embrace, saying  again how very sorry she
was.  The feeling of her new mammaries compressing into hers, although
alarming, felt . . . good.

**********

Although she had never been inside the sorority house, Ginger had no
trouble finding her room. A sense of internal radar locked onto it, directing
her way through the labryinth of intersecting hallways.  She also knew that
Carol was her roomy.

When she opened the door to their shared room, Ginger already knew
what she would find.  One side of the room was a mess, while the other
side was immaculate.  Ginger automatically directed herself to the clean
side.  The real,Ginger's memories told her that Carol was sloppy, and she
. . . that is the real Ginger, was neurotically neat.

There again, she had just for a moment considered herself to be the real
Ginger.  She shuddered wondering exactly how long that she could hold
out before she became Ginger, heart and soul.  It was a race against time. 
If what had just happened downstairs was any indication, the more that
she experinced feminine things, the more she would assume the persona
of Ginger.

She thought about going to Derek right now and admitting that he was
right.  That thought made her stand very still.  She had just thought of the
real Ginger as the real Derek.  Ginger was just about to pick up the
phone, when she remembered the penalty of admission.  The real Ginger
would get an "anything."  At this stage, she knew exactly what she would
ask for.  She would want to keep the Derek body peremenantly.

The only way to set things right was for her to win the "anything," and get
her rightful body back.  The trick would be to avoid all things feminine so
that she would not sink any further into the female persona.

Despite all of that, the mirror drew Ginger like a moth to a flame. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, she eased in front of the mirror.  Her hands were
trembling, even though she knew what she would find.  Ginger raised her
eyes to stare at her full length reflection.
 
Her sparkling green eyes looked back at her with a haunted expression.
Losing your body, and your lover, in the same day did not make for a
happy face. Nevertheless, the body was extremely beautiful.  At least that
was something she could hold onto. At this point, Ginger needed an
anchor. 

Ginger started her first visual inspection of her new self.  It was a body
that she had seen often enough from the outside. The shining red hair fell
past her creamy shoulders to the lower part of her back in waves.  Her tits
were first class, actually a little better than first class.  It made her
wonder just how big she was up top.

As Derek, she had never discussed the issue of measurements with
Ginger.  However, she was always curious as to her real dimensions.

She knew that that information would be all too real once she looked at
the tag of the bra she was wearing.  For the time being, she continued with
the inventory of her physical assets.   Ginger's legs were shapely,
especially for someone so short, just under 5'.  Proportionately, they
seemed to be longer than they should be.  If she was only a foot taller, she
would be the prototypical long legged model. 

The sight of her, or Ginger's, body, brought back, rather graphically, the
memory of what she had done underneath the waterfall.  She suddenly felt
grubby, unclean somehow, after rolling around on the ground in a rush of
female hormones. Immediately afterwards, Ginger, now Derek dumped
her.  It made her feel cheap . . . and used? 

Emotions were a storm within her soul. Had the real Ginger used her all
along to steal her body, and then have sex with her?  Ginger had an
inexplicable urge to really take a bath. There was a need to try and scrub
the stain of it all from her skin. 

Ginger hurriedly stripped off all of the clothes that she was wearing.  She
paused only to satisfy one area of curiosity.  The tag on the bra read
36DD.  The smallness of the rest of her body made her tits seem even
bigger! She took a small measure of pleasure at being so physically
desirable.

The naked reflection in the mirror was utterly gorgeous.  It was the very
flower of feminity.  She ran her fingers over and over her skin feeling the
marked difference between this body and her own.  It was so soft and
smooth.  It was so unlike the hard angular body which she used to call
home.  There were sultry curves as far as the eye could see.

Ginger turned to the side to inspect her profile.  Her heart shaped derierre
stuck out provocitively as the perfect counterbalance to her breasts.  Her
trembling hands reached around to feel the sliky smooth skin of her rear
end.  The feel of her own fingertips, and the light tracing of long fingrnails
sent a shiver up and down her spine.

Her hands did not stop there.  She felt the baby soft flesh of her inner
thighs, noticing the absence of muscular definition.  It was all skin, with
enough baby fat to form a shapely, rounded contour.  Ginger's hand
continued ever upward, across her flat stomach, to the appendges by
which men judged the value of a woman.

She paused for a second, barely touching them, before finally lifting them,
and squeezing them as she had seen the real Ginger do.  The feeling of
having big boobs now was something which was impossible to describe. 
She was going to have to beat men away from her with a stick!

One fear kept coming back to her.  This body was so sexual and desirable
that it was the perfect bait.  It was the bait to lure a man like she used to
be into a trap in which someone could steal her real body.  There was that
question again.  Had Ginger been plannning this all along.  Is that the only
reason that she had been with him, while he was Derek, in the first place? 
Did she really love me at all, she wondered?

Unconsiuosly, Ginger began to pick up her discarded clothes, and began
to fold them as the real Ginger would do.  She was so lost in thought that
she didn't even realize that she put those clothes away in their rightful
place without ever having to think about it.  One thought, and one thought
only, held her attention.  Did Ginger ever love me?  Had she planned this
all along?

While Ginger ran the bath water, she continued to fret about her fears. 
Finally, she could take it no longer.  She decided to call the real Ginger,
in her body, so that she could figure out whether her fears had a basis in
fact.

Ginger's small, manicured hand picked up the extension of the house
phone that was in the room. Someone was on it already . . . a voice she
identified as Tiffany's.   Before Ginger could replace the handset in the
cradle, she inadvertantly caught enough of the ongoing conversation to
make her pause.

He heard her sorority sister say, "Derek?  I understand you and Ginger
have broken up."

"Thanks right," came the cautious reply of 'Derek'.

The sound of her old voice both thrilled Ginger on one hand, and terrified
her on the other.  What was Tiffany calling him for? Was she trying to
raise hell for having dumped Ginger?  The tone of her voice certainly
didn't sound defensive or mad.  What was going on here?

Tiffany's next statement told her everything! "For one I am not surprised.
She is so bossy and bitchy.   Besides she is far too short for you. You
need a girl who is less vertically challenged . . . at least 5'8".

Ginger's hands shook terribly as she listened further. Why that bitch, she
thought with the instant rage of a betrayal. She was such a hypocrite. She
pretended to be so sympathetic, and now she is sneaking around trying to
take my man!"

Ginger was so enraged that she failed to noticed that her descent into the
female role in this little drama was proceeding apace.  Her internal spirit
was being femininized with each passing second. She had consiously
referred to her former lover as "her MAN!"

Derek's masculine baritone was amused by the direction of the
conversation.  "And just how tall are you, Tiffany?"

"Five-nine."

"Are you offering yourself as a substitute?"

"Well . . . ."

"Are you free for dinner tonight?"

Ginger's poor heart skipped a beat.  She felt it in her throat, and thought
that she was going to be sick.

"As a matter of fact, this is the only free night I have this week. You can't 
pick me up here because Ginger might see.  I'll meet you at the park
entrance. Where are you going to take me?"

Ginger burned with a combination of anger and jealousy when the false
Derek told that bitch the name of the restaurant . . .Tony's. That had been
their place.  All of her secret fears were becoming manifest.

Ginger rushed into Tiffany's room in a fury.  She was much too enraged
with the other girl to notice that her tiny hands were balled into fists.
However, the thumb of each hand was on the inside of the other
fingers,like little girls tend to do.  Again, it all happened so naturally,
without her even consiously thinking about it.

Tiffany had been literally caught red-handed.  The startled girl hurriedly
put down the phone, as if that could somehow hide her duplicity.

"You hypocritical bitch!" cried Ginger, as she flew at the much taller
bleached blonde. 

During the few paces that separated Ginger and Tiffany, the most  amazing
thing happened.  Ginger's hands became unclenched, the fingers 
stretching out so that her claws were bared!  As a man, her natural instinct 
would have been to clench the fists even tighter to prepare for impact.  If 
Ginger still had her real body, she would never have been pushed this far,
this fast.  As Derek, she would have just walked away.   She didn't once
realize that she was in the grip of the real Ginger's fiery temper.

Tiffany screamed, and covered her face protectively, as Ginger clawed 
at her.  Ginger resembled the Tasmanian Devil as she tried to scratch
Tiffany's face.  She grabbed a handful of the the other girl's blonde tresses,
attempting to pull it out by the roots.  The situation devolved into a good
old fashhioned cat fight, with Ginger playing her part perfectly.

Tiffany screamed for help. Some of the other girls rushed in from the
hallway to pull them apart. Ginger was astonished how easy she was
removed from her prey.  Only one of the sisters, who was only slightly
bigger than herself, was needed to separate her from off the offending girl.

That's when Ginger glanced down at her slender arms.  There was
absolutely no muscle tone whatsoever.  She was now barely stronger  than
a little child.

It was humiliating to be so easily handled by one young woman. The
Derek body could have dragged two or three of them  across a football
field with no sweat!   That body was now under new management, while
she was stuck in this soft, weak one.

The president of the sorority addressed the two combatants sternly. 
"Okay, LADIES!  Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on
here?"

Ginger delivered the entire nasty story in an exasperated, and frustrated
tone of voice.  Had she been in her real body, there is no doubt that she
would have been able to communicate in calm, even tones. Tiffany tried
to defend herself by claiming that she was only patching things up between
Ginger and Derek.  None of the other girls bought it for a moment.   They
knew Tiffany too well, and were generally suspicious of their own sex
when it came to a man.

This was an aspect of womanhood that Ginger was now learning the hard
way!  She was also learning of feminine treachery from the inside out.

"Okay, okay," Tiffany relented. "I'll come clean. So what if I was  moving
in on Derek.  I always thought he was cute, and so did a lot of you. Admit
it.  He's got a good future after college. Face it, Derek's prime husband
material. He and Ginger broke up after all.  I'm sorry about  that , and I
DIDN'T try to take him while they were together.  Be honest sisters,
which one of you have never moved in on a guy right after a breakup  with
his girlfriend?   That's when he is first available, and vulnerable.  Their
usual defense mechanisms against us are lowered.   Lets see a show of
hands!"

The other sisters all looked at each other blankly, but nobody raised a
hand.

I thought so!" beamed Tiffany triumphantly. "It's better that one of us get
Derek rather than one of the Chi-O's.  So . . .  if you will excuse me, I
need to get ready for a hot date."

Tiffany couldn't leave well enough alone.  She had won the argument with
logic and self evident truths.  She didn't need to take it any farther .
However, as a testimony to her real personality, and as a measure of
payback to Ginger, she couldn't resist one last verbal barb.

"Please take Ginger the Red with you on the way out, and shut the door
behind you.  Ginger, think about it. Derek could have always said no," she
finished smugly. "It not my fault if a bitchy, bossy, pixie like you, can't
hang on to her man!"

All of Ginger's churning emotions erupted into tears at once.  Here she
should have been complimented.  Essentially a whole sorority, of the most
beautiful women on campus, had conceded that her true body and self
were a good catch. They all had wanted Derek.  Instead, all she felt was
jealousy and envy of Tiffany. All she could do was cry. 

Ginger didn't know what to do.  Part of her, the agressive part of her that
was still male, was telling her to slap the bitch silly. The other part of
her, that realized she was outmatched, outweighed, and overwhelmed,  told
her to just go lick your wounds. It was the latter part that won out!  It was
easy to let herself be dragged away by the other girls. 

She could see Tiffany's gloating smile as the door closed behind her exit.
The support she got from the other young women helped, but it wasn't
enough.  Ginger needed to be alone. In the end, she just went back to the
bathroom to fnish the bath that she had started.

Once inside the bathroom, Ginger slipped gracefully out of the terry clothe
robe that she had gained somewhere along the way.  She closed and
locked the bathroom door so that she would not be disturbed.  Bitter tears
were still pouring down her flushed cheeks.

As soon as the bathrobe was off, and little more than a heap upon the
floor, she felt the long, wavy red hair tickle her neck, shoulders, back and
waist.  Automatically, as if it were something she had done thousands of
times, she padded to the sink area, sniffing back more tears, and  grabbed
a berette, to pin the long hair on top of her head.  Ginger deftly gathered
the heavy mass of red hair into a bun, safely securing it so that it wouldn't
get wet in the bathwater.

She idly looked at her naked visage in the mirror over the sink.  Ginger
realized what she just did.  Then suddenly, she remembered each and
every action or movement she had made in the struggle with Tiffany. 
Something snapped deep within the small, diminutive woman.

She sobbed, "Oh God.  I really have become a girl," and promptly lost all
cohesion.  Rational thought fled from the petite body.  A nervous
breakdown is not a pretty thing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Big Kahuna was greatly pleased.  The paradigms for the reversal of
his "Cosmic Joke" were progressing nicely.  With spiritual perception that
is his, and his alone, he could see that the spirit of Derek, inside the small
body of Ginger, had now reformed so that it now resembled that of the
real Ginger in every respect.

The spirit of his mortal children were such a malleable thing.  It was so
easily reformed by the environment and shell within which it resided.
Sometimes, just sometimes, there is the perfect union of body, soul, and
environment.  The "Cosmic Joke," as the real Ginger had called it, had
seen to it that those circumstances didn't exist with the originals. The
actions of the real Ginger had placed the perfect soul, into the perfect
body, in the perfect environment.  A new and improved Ginger had been
created.

The Big Kahunma truly did not enjoy the spiritual suffering of his children.
Part of him wept along with the new Ginger. He knew that out of  the
ashes and ruins of her former self, a beautiful phoenix would arise. Such 
was the nature of things.  However, first she had to fall apart in order to 
arise anew.

He knew what would happen next.  The spirit of the former Derek would
continue to change inside of Ginger.  The fact that it had already assumed
the semblence of the real Ginger was immaterial.  The spirit would
continue to change until it was, indeed, the shape and configuration of the
ultimate woman.

He would need the help of another to keep the new Ginger moving in the
right direction.  The Big Kahuna spied his unwitting accomplice.  He
mused to himself, ah yes.  She is the ideal supporting actress in this little
drama.  He whispered the stage directions into her soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carol's violent pounding on the bathroom door broke Ginger's cycle of
hysterical bawling and mumbling in gibberish over and over again, "Oh
God.  I'm a man.  Oh God.  I'm a man. Oh God . . ."

While she was soaking in the tub, having a nervous breakdown, she
alternately tried pushing the big boobs into her chest so that they were flat,
and gathering together the folds of her labia into psuedo-scrotum. She
treid to stimulate the cliroris larger and larger until it was her former
glorious manhood.  Ginger was quite insane.

"Answer me Ginger.  Are you okay?" Carol shouted through the door for
about the 100th time.  The hysterical noises, rants and raves from inside
the bathroom convinced her that her roommate may try to take her own
life. "C'mon Ginger.  I'm worried about you, Honey," Carol continued.

"Huh??" came Ginger's reply, finally snapping out of the downward spiral.
Rational thought returned once again to the little red head.

"What did you say?" answered Carol back.

"I said I'm okay.  I-I'll be out in a second." stammered Ginger, still
slightly unsure of herself.  A quick inspection of her body confirmed that
she was in fact, still a girl.  She was her ex-girlfriend.

Ginger sighed the defeated sigh of acceptance.  "I might as well get used
to it.  Whether I like it or not . . . I'm Ginger!"

She surrendered completely to the native instincts, reflexes, and memories
of the body.  She rose from the bathtub, bending over at the waist to pull
out the stopper from the drain. The feeling of big tits dangling and swaying
from her chest didn't feel the least bit unusual or alien. Ginger became  the
woman that she appeared to be.

As such, she grabbed a towel from the towel bar, and patted herself dry,
as any woman would, instead of the way she used to do it.  Once the
consious decision had come to surrender, everything just felt so right . .
so natural.

Ginger donned the robe on the floor, before expertly unpinning her hair. 
She just let it fall over her shoulders in a cascade of red waves.  She ran
long fingernails through the silky tresses, styling it with her fingers, and
finally flipping it out of her face and eyes with a twitch of the wrist.

Ginger took one last deep breath before opening the bathroom door into
her new life.

There was one thing that Ginger forgot to dry during her delicate
ministrations . . . the tears, and tracks of her tears on her face.  It was
something Carol noticed right away.

Carol gave a visible exhale as a sign of relief, and then made the
observation, "You really do love him don't you?  You're really and truly
in love with Derek, aren't you?"

Ginger searched her feeling in response to the unexpected question.  It
dawned on her that she was, and did.  She wasn't in love with the 
woman the real Ginger was, her former girlfriend.  She was in love with 
Derek!  She was in love, the way a woman loves a man.

"Yes," Ginger whispered softly, surpised of the answer herself.

The revelation calmed one part of her mind.  A large part of her feelings
had to be from the memories of the real Ginger.  That meant that the real
Ginger had really loved the real Derek.  She could take some measure of
comfort from that fact.  The only problem was that her lover was gone,
both literally and figuratively.

Carol cluthched the significantly smaller girl to her in a motherly hug.  "I
was so worried about you.  I thought that you might hurt yourself," she
informed Ginger.

Ginger could literally feel the warmth and genuine friendship of Carol
radiating from the hug.  It occured to her that guys never do this with other
guys, which was a shame.  Ginger felt like she had never had a friend like
Carol in her entire life.  She leaned into the hug, resting her ace on the
much taller girl's shoulder.  The tears came again, uncontrolled.

Carol smoothed Ginger's hair, while reassuring her, "Everything's going to
be all right now.  Don't worry Ginger.  Carol's going to make it all  right."

The girls stood there for a few moments, locked in the tight embrace.
Ginger basked in the sunshine of a true, blue friend.

She finally separated from the heartfelt hug of her roommate.  Ginger
paced to her bed, where she found a container of baby powder.  Again,
she let the reflxes of the body take over to powder her soft flesh.  It felt
good. Next, she rummaged through Ginger's night dresses until she found
a cute night shirt that caught her eye.  It wasn't provocative or anything,
and it's main purpose was only to clothe someone during slumber.  

Ginger slipped form the robe, unconcerned that she was now nude in front
of Carol.  She was positive that Carol had seen this body in the buff many
times.

Ginger pulled the night shirt on over her head, then immediately pulled her
hair free from underneath the collar. She  put on a pair of cotton panties,
once more, nothing risque.  She then looked at her reflection in the 
mirror. Even in this garb she was gorgeous, but so very tiny. 

Carol came up, and put an arm around Ginger. "I'm going to help you." 

Ginger turned to look up into the serious eyes of her roommate.  They
blazed with a steely determination.

"H-help me?  Help me to do w-what?"

Carol hugged the little girl.  "Why get Derek back of course."

For the next few minutes Carol outlined her plan of attack.  First, Ginger
would have to make Derek insanely jealous.  Then, after she captured 
his attention, she would play hard to get.  After it was all layed out before
Ginger, there was only one question.

This time, Ginger even managed a little smile.  "And just how do you
expect me to accomplish this miracle,"

"Easy.  We're going to make you over into the most desirable, sought
after, girl on campus.  You'll drive Derek wild with jealousy when he sees
every guy on campus wagging their tongues after you."

"H-how?" queried Ginger, a bit nervous over what Carol was suggesting.

"Um . . ." Carol began cautiously. "I'm only saying this as a friend who
cares about you a lot, okay?"

"What?" asked Ginger, now a little more nervous.

"Tiffany was right.  You are a bossy, pushy little bitch.  It's like you have
this huge Napoleon complex because you are so short, and that you're a
girl.  It's like you're always pushing yourself to be better than men. It
turns people off."

Ginger had to admit that Carol's assessment of the real Ginger's
personality was right on the nose.  Obviously it prompted her to take the
ultimate step, and become a man.

Carol's assessment didn't stop there.  "Listen to the phrases that you use.
Bite me?  What kind of way is that for a beautiful woman to talk? And 
the way you dress . . . much too plain and conservative.  I almost fell over
when I saw you walk in with that leather mini skirt on.  Even you
movements are all herky-jerky.  You need to walk like a proper woman."

With that, Carol picked up a book, and balanced it on her head.  She
took a couple of steps forward to illustrate the point.  Both girls ended up
laughing.  It was a great tension breaker.

Again, Carol's evaluation of Ginger was all true.  When it was all out
there, she was surprised that the real Ginger hadn't tried to take a male
body sooner.

"Carol?  How do you expect me to learn all of this stuff?"

"Girlfriend, my mama didn't sentence me to years of charm school for
nothing.  I'm a real southern belle, don'cha know?  It's good to see some
use will come of it.  We better get started because you have a lot to learn.
The most important, and maybe the hardest, thing will be SMILE and,
always try and say something NICE! You Northern grils just do not
realize how unpleasant you can be. Being nice, and wearing a smile
instead of a frown takes you further than you can ever imagine! Why do
you think I have more dates than anone else in the Sorority? It's not
because I'm the cutest, you probably are!  Well, I declare, this is going to
take all night.  I swear to you by morning the hottest babe on campus is
gonna walk right out of those doors."

Carol pointed to their suite door.  Ginger thought about it for a moment.
She had resigned herself to the fact that she may have this body for the
rest of her life.  If she did, she at least wanted her true love back.

She sighed deeply. The die was cast!

"Okay.  Where do we start?"

Ginger couldn't believe it.  She was going to learn all about feminine wiles
and scheming from the inside. And she knew how popular Carol was. 
She would be getting the scoop from the cream of the cream!  

She was a part of the club. As a man, she would have taken the most
direct route.  This was seemed to go in the opposite direction, but was
designed to turn a man's own urges and instincts against him.  It was
insidious.  It was devious.  It was something  the real Ginger never took
the time to learn.  She would never know what hit her.

As a man, Ginger had often wondered why a woman always seemed to
do the opposite of what a guy thinks they should be doing.  Now she
knew.  It was all about making a man work against himself.  This was
going to be fun.  

In spite of herself, Ginger giggled.  It wasn't a laugh , a snicker, or a
guffaw.  It was a very feminine giggle.

"What's so funny?" asked Carol.

"Oh, nothing.  Where do we start?" reiterated Ginger.

"The first thing that we'll need is someone to make Derek jealous.  We
need a mark."

The two scheming roommates went through all of the possibles.  There
was only one clear cut choice, and he was perfect!  Bruce H. Rand.  He
was president of the Greek council.  He was the richest, and best  looking
guy in campus.  Bruce wasn't an athlete like Derek.  He was just the
opposite, and considered athletics, and jocks beneath him.  However, he
was an honor student, just like Ginger, which brought them into frequent
contact.  Bruce was smug and arrogant, but unfortunately the catch of 
the county.  He was the campus' most eligible bachelor.

Bruce had  the other twin assests of being everything the real Ginger hated
in a man, and someone the real Derek despised.  He was, after all a rival
for the affection of campus women.  No matter which memory was
controlling Derek now, he would absolutely hate it!

Ginger did voice one area of doubt.  "This will never work.  I'm too short. 
I'm too tiny to be pursued by Bruce and every other guy on campus."

"Are you serious?  Ginger, you are one of the most beautiful women that
I've ever seen in my life.  Most women would love to be in your shoes. I
wish I could have naturally big boobs like you.  You just haven't
developed that side of your personality because you've been so obsessed
with proving yourself better than a man.  Now it's time to develop the
feminine side of your personality.  As for yout height, most guys fantasize
about making love to petite, well built women like you. Their smallness
almost makes them more feminine, like a doll or a baby girl. We'll 
play to that.  Derek will be General Hooker to our Robert E. Lee. He
won't know what hits him." 

Carol laughed, glad that she restored her friend to reason. "The South
will rise again!"

The two girls giggled, kissed each other with sisterly pecks on the cheek,
and got down to business.

They were interrupted hours later by Tiffany coming into their room. 
She was slightly drunk and disheveled. She leered at Ginger.

"God, what a man! He was the best lay I ever had! He really knows how
to turn a woman on! We have another date tomorrow! He says he likes
going out with taller woman who have legs that wrap around him. See,
yah."

"Bite me!" said Ginger, climbing out of bed, and resorting to the native, 
all-purpose come back of the identity.

Tiffany squealed with glee, and then ran, slamming the door pointedly
behind her.

"That, young lady . . ." drawled Carol to her student, " . . . is the 
last time you use that unbecoming phrase!"

Ginger woke up exhausted, after only two hours of sleep, thinking what
a dream!  She dreamed that she had exchanged bodies with her girlfriend,
Ginger, after making a dumb bet.  When she reached up to rub the sleep
out of her eyes, her upper arms brushed against soft warm growths on  her
chest.  The disorientation faded quickly.  It had been no dream!

Everything that happened yesterday came rushing back to her, from the
initial switch to having sex as a woman to Carol's lessons last night.  She
was Ginger now. It was her reality now! Her life as Derek seemed to be
fading somehow until it felt more like the dream.

Ginger scanned the room, just to make sure that her senses weren't lying
to her.  Sure enough, she was inside the real Ginger's sorority suite. Carol
was sleeping soundly over on the messy side of the room.  The clothes
that Carol had carefully selected for her to wear today were laid out on
the dresser.

The first order of business was some food.  Ginger's small tummy,
complete with its annoying grumbling, reminded her that she hadn't eaten
anything since the switch happened.  As soon as she tried to rise from her
bed, the pressure in her bladder immediately shifted the priorities.
 
The sensation to urinate felt so strange.  The part of Ginger's being  which
was still Derek expected that feeling to be focus on the genitals, which
were no longer there.  This felt so internalized.  The actual  urination felt
no less strange.  Instead of coming out in a steady, easily directed stream, 
it was more of a spray . . . then a leak.  It felt like she had no control
over her bladder at all.

The most annoying thing about the spray, other than having to sit rather
than stand, was that it went everywhere!  Ginger grumbled as she grabbed
some toilet paper, wadded it up from memory, and cleaned her pubic 
area from the stray droplets of pee.

With the toilet duties completed, she checked her image in the mirror.
Everything looked presentable, except for her hair, which was a tangled
mess.  She ran her fingers through it hurriedly, styling it with only her
hands.  Ginger nodded into the mirror.  That would do for breakfast with
the rest of the sisters.  After all they were only girls, no men were present.

Ginger was just about to exit the suite when she realized that she was
starting to get used to seeing the real Ginger's image when she looked into
a mirror instead of her former one.  That revelation made her skin bubble
into goose flesh, and sent a shiver up her spine.

She stepped out into the hall of the Tri-Delt sorority house.  Ginger had
already decided her course of action last night.  All that was left was the
execution.  The hall was bustling with the activity of sisters getting ready
for their classes.  The were all happy and chattering about the day,
interspersed with plans for the upcoming weekend.  She saw them in
various stages of undress, and was unnerved to find that she was not
attracted to any of them. 

Ginger proceeded to the kitchen, following the memories of it's location 
that existed within her.  She wanted to have a big breakfast, but settled 
for a frugal breakfast of grapefruit and dry toast. Last night, Carol had
advised her that she had to watch her figure.  She added if it was at all
possible, she should consider taking off an extra five pounds from her
already slender frame, in order to accentuate her smallness even more.  So
. . . here Ginger was, starting out her first full day as a woman, doing
something that women always seemed to be complaining about . . .dieting!

Fortunately, the kitchen was vacant. She wouldn't have to answer any
painful questions about Derek, or have to tax her brain to find the answer
to any question which may be posed to the real Ginger.

There would be time enough for that later.  The time alone gave Ginger a
chance to wonder what she had to do today.

No sooner had she posed the mental question, than the answer flashed
into her head.  This was Friday morning.  She had a class at 10:00 a.m.
at Turner Hall.  Ginger's memories told her that it was a Hotel and
Restaurant Management course, specifically Wine Tasting 101.  It was a
senior "blow-off" course that she had managed to get due to her grades.
There were a lot of jocks and last semester seniors looking for easy
grades.  After that, she had a Physiology course in the Science Building
Both Rand and Derek were in that course.

Ginger looked at the woman's wristwatch on her slender wrist.  It read
9:03 a.m."Oh my goodness," exclaimed Ginger in a very lady-like manner.
"I'm going to be late!"

She put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, then rushed upstairs to get
dressed.  Carol was in the bathroom taking a shower, but Ginger
remembered out of nowhere that Carol had no classes on Fridays. She
didn't have time to ponder that now, so she proceeded to put on the
clothes that had been laid out for her.  

The first things were the undergarments . . . a g-string and  wonder bra.
It was Carol's theory, she called it Carol's rule #5, that in order to be sexy
you had to feel sexy.  In order to feel sexy, you had to dress sexy from the
inside out.  That started with the undergarments.  Carol had specifically
suggested that she wear a wonder bra so that her big boobs would look
even bigger!  She wanted every guy that Ginger met that day to be staring
at her tits.

Ginger slipped into the lingerie in seconds, like it was second nature!

Next, Ginger dressed in what Carol called "hunting clothes."  That
consisted of a low cut, yet skin tight blouse that showed her breathtaking
cleavage, a micro-mini skirt, and 3 inch heels. The shoes weren't very
comfortable, but Carol said that needed to look taller.  They also made
her legs look shapelier . . . magnificent.  Ginger looked at her reflection in
the mirror, and even she was impressed.

Ginger applied her make up easily, accenting the beauty of her face, just
as Carol had showed her to do. It took a hundred strokes to get her hair
shinning its magnificent red.  This time when she looked into the mirror,
she didn't see Ginger the Red, but a gorgeous sex object that looked like
she just stepped from a centerfold.  Her tits stuck out like a shelf  from 
her chest.  The very sight of herself made Ginger's nipples begin to harden.

She could tell because you could see their outline easily through the
clothes that Carol had chosen.  Ginger wondered what the air 
conditioning was like in Turner Hall?

As soon as she walked out of her suite, all she heard were gasps from  the
sisters of Tri-Delt.  They could say nothing, just staring at her with slack
jaws.  Even that bimbo Tiffany was dumbfounded.

The walk across campus was no different.  Everybody from teachers to
students stopped and stared at Ginger.  It was like she was a magnet for
everybody's eyes. Not only an eye magnet, but a boy magnet, and it felt
good! Every now and then, she caught comments like, "Who's THAT!"
or "WOW, look at her."  Several guys felt compelled to come up and
introduce themselves to her.  

Each time, they stared down at her chest rather than into hers eyes.

Ginger walked with the slow, swaying walk that Carol taught her last 
night.  Carol told her that it was a stride that guaranteed the maximum
wiggle of a derriere, and jiggle of the boobs.  It was tough at first, but
after  the first couple of blocks, it got easier.  She found that if it you just 
ignored what you were doing, and went with how the heels naturally
forced  you to walk,  it became second nature.

The ease with which every man seemed to be hypnotized by her mere
presence made Ginger giggle.  She refused to believe this was actually
happening.  It was like each man was falling into a mindless stupor when
she passed by!  More than that . . . she was beginning to really  like it.
Like it a lot! 

In Wine Tasting class it was more of the same.  When she walked into  the
room, every single head turned to look at her.  Of course, the room was
positively frigid from the air conditioning that was working overtime.
Ginger knew without looking, from the sensation coming form her chest,
that her nipples were sticking out like pencils erasers.

She took a seat behind two guys that she recognized from the football
team.  She had actually partied with them a couple of times when she was
Derek.  That seemed so long ago, a life time, even though her mind told
her that it was only yesterday.  The two were already engaged in a
conversation when she took her seat.  They paused long enough to watch
her sit down, and to smell her fragrant, feminine perfume.  That was
Carol's rule #13. A man's sense of smell is almost as important as his
sense of sight, so always smell good.

Ginger picked up the conversation somewhere in the middle.

"Did you see Derek at practice yesterday?"

They were talking about her, or rather her former self.  She used to be the
back-up quarterback on the football team.

"Yeah.  We all got a big laugh.  When we started the receiver drills, he
was throwing like a girl.  It was the damnest thing I ever saw."

That made Ginger smile. Good, she thought.  The real Ginger's falling on
her face.  Perhaps she could win this bet after all!  However, their next
statements blunted that hope.

"The weird thing was that by the end of practice he was throwing bullets.
I've never seen him throw like that before.  He was accurate as hell too.
He reminded me a lot of Brett Favre.  Kyle (the starting quarterback) was
pretty pissed off."

"I overheard the coach say that if he keeps it up, he may get the start
ahead of Kyle.  That would be way wild!"

Great, grumbled Ginger to herself.  Ginger's better a being me than I am!

During class, every time that Ginger looked up, she caught, out of the
corner of her eye, some guy suddenly looking away.  She could literally
feel the eyes of others boring into at her.  The thought of so many admiring
eyes on her made her feel a slight warmth in her nether regions.  It was a
sensation that she recognized as erotic stimulation.

Carol had been absolutely right.  This whole experience made her feel as
sexy as Hell.

Ginger idly became aware of two other reactions . . . both of which came
from other girls.  Half of them looked at her with envy in their eyes. The
other half had a look of sheer resentment. Their icy eyes threw daggers,
tipped with venom, attempting to cut to the bone!  It didn't matter which
gender looked at her because it never failed to cause a strong reaction.
Ginger realized there and then that her appearance alone was a catalyst of
powerful emotions.

When class was over, she stood to leave.  However, Ginger was suddenly
surrounded by a throng of male admirers, all vying for her attention. 

Shortly, she was joined by a bunch of girls, at her side, who acted like
they were her friend.  A search of her memory indicated that she had
never met these girls.  The antagonistic girls stood across the room just
glaring at her with pure hatred.  They were waiting for whomever was in
her court of admirers to pry themselves loose.

Ginger had to admit that all of the attention was a pretty heady experience. 
As Derek, a lot of people on campus knew her.  She even had a fair
number of female admirers as Derek.  She had NEVER had a reaction
like this.  Being the center of attention felt nice . . . so nice, in fact,
that it made her grin from ear to ear.  She liked what was happening to her.
Ginger couldn't wait to get back to the sorority house to tell Carol what
had happened!  There ensued a mad dash back across campus, that
produced a good amount of jiggles, in all of the right places, and an equal
amount of stares and ogles.

Ginger related the entire story to Carol once she was able to get her alone
in their suite.  Carol simply smiled at Ginger like it was something  that
she had known all along.  There were no surprises or revelations.

"Of course silly.  That's what your appearance is supposed to do.  It's
designed to cause strong emotions in everybody.  Once you have an
powerful emotional reaction from somebody, it's so easy to wrap them
around your finger.  With your beauty and sex appeal you can control a
whole room from the jealous ones to the lusting ones.  It's just so simple.
It's something all of us southern belles know . . ."  She batted her eyes 
to illustrate the point.

"I-I had no idea that I had so much . . . power."

"Of course you do.  I used to laugh when you came up with that corny
Cosmic Joke theory of yours.  To think that you believed that men's 
bodies were constructed to manipulate the environment, and that women's
minds would be better suited to their bodies!  Honey, I'm here to tell you 
that's all crap.  Men are just tools like a shovel or forklift to mold the
environment. We women are the brains of the outfit.  We can manipulate 
the environment by getting men to do it for us, without lifting even a little
old  finger.  If you give them sex, or a blow job, on top of it, they are as
happy as pigs in you know what!  You got it all wrong right from the start,
Ginger, Honey.  Women have the power.  The Cosmic Joke's on the
men!"

Ginger was stunned by the self evident truth of it.  It was something that
the real Ginger never considered.  She so wanted the apparent power of
men, that she never imagined where the true power lie.  The joke was on
the real Ginger! 

"But what about those other women.  They had strong emotions, too?"

"Ginger.  I'm only going to say this once, and will deny it if ever repeated.
The ones that envy you can be used as your 'friends' to get what you 
want, then be thrown away at will.  The jealous ones, your enemies, are 
even easier to use.  They will always attack, and with a few words here
or there, they can be diverted to attack others.  See?  You had the world 
at your fingertips and you didn't even know it.  By the way, those were
Carol's rules 8 through 11, all summarized.  I hope you took notes
because they're will be a pop quiz tomorrow.  I just hope that I haven't
created a monster.  With your face and body you are dangerous girl."

She laughed a tinkling charming southern laugh.

With that, Carol left to do some shopping.  She said that she would bring
back something extra special for Ginger.  She gave Ginger one last bit of
advice before she left, Carol's rule #21.  When she saw Rand in the next
class, she had to get close enough to brush her tits in to his arm, or better
still, his hand.  That was almost evil, Ginger thought.  Carol was certainly
very good at her craft.

That left Ginger sitting on her bed in stunned silence.  She never, ever
suspected the superior advantage it was to be a gorgeous woman. She
didn't have time to ponder the subject any further.  It was time to put all
of Carol's rules into practice in the next class. She only hoped she was up
to it!

Her next class was physiology. Ginger encountered the same enthusiastic
reaction to her appearance.  The real Ginger, who was flirting with some
bimbo when she walked in, turned to watch as she went past in a swirl of
perfume.  His jaw just dropped.  The whole thing was VERY satisfying.

It was all going to work just as Carol said it would.  She could just feel it.

As Derek, she had always found the subject boring, but as Ginger she
found it fascinating . There was a surprise quiz.  She was pleasantly
surprised that her new brain supplied all the answers.  Ginger breezed 
through the quiz in record time, and just knew that she aced it.

She distracted quite of few of her fellow students attentions with her
wiggling ass, when she brought the paper to the front.  Even without
turning to verify, Ginger knew that the new Derek was watching her
intently. She demurely handed the paper to the professor.  Even he stared
at her tits.

The prof glanced at her paper, and smiled,  "All right as usual,  Ginger I'm
proud of you!" he glowed, looking more at her tits than the paper.

His praise, and open appreciation of her beauty, warmed her and gave her
confidence. Now it was time to stalk her prey in full view of Derek. 

Bruce was just bringing his test up to the prof., and she let Bruce find her
doe eyed. When he moved to put his paper on the desk, Ginger
"accidently" dropped her pen to the floor.  She bent to pick it up just when
Bruce was lifting his hand,  angling her upper body so that thy would
intersect  Bullseye!  Ginger felt Rand's hand press into her right boob.
 
Instinctively, despite his arrogant nature Bruce felt a need to  apologize to
this beautiful girl.

"I'm sorry Ginger.  I wasn't watching what I-I was doing." explained
Bruce.

"No. It was my fault . . ." started Ginger, with fake tears in her eyes. " . .
. I-I've just been walking around in a daze since Derek broke up with me
yesterday."

His eyes lit up when he found that Ginger and Derek had split. The
conversation  blossomed like a jungle plant from that point.  

"I'm sorry to hear that Ginger.  You look different today."

"Thank-you," responded Ginger shyly, just as Carol taught her to do. 
Then she struck a provocative pose so that he could see down the front
of her blouse.  "I decided the Hell with Derek.  I did something just for
me, and fixed myself up."

"You look good . . . incredibly good in fact.  I don't know why I never 
noticed you before."

There was a pregnant pause, as Ginger looked up soulfully into his eyes. 
God, she was so short now!

Bruce stammered as he asked out for dinner. Naturally she accepted.  He
was going to take her to that great French  restaurant. She had never been
there before, but had always wanted to go.  She could never afford it
either as Derek or Ginger.  Bruce confirmed that he would pick her up at 
the sorority house at 7:00 p.m.

Her easy conquest put a spring back into her walk.  Ginger's attention was
diverted by a voice behind her.  It was the former  Ginger . . . er . . .
Derek, who had been watching everything with great intensity.

"Hi, Ginger!"

She turned, looking up into his face, which was once her real face.  It
wasn't as disorienting as before, seeing her former body this way.  She
really was growing accustomed to her new body.

"How are you doing? " he asked, with just a hint of guilt to his voice. He
stared down, well  over a foot taller than Ginger. He was wearing tight 
jeans and a shirt, opened at the throat, to show off his muscles and his 
chest hair.

"Okay, " she answered coolly. " I thought you would have better taste than
Tiffany.  She's just a bleached blonde tramp."

"Hey, she was an easy lay.   I got her to do my laundry and she's useful 
politically . . . " that thought went unfinished.

"You really are a pig.  Well I have a date tonight.  Bruce Rand. He's
taking me to Cafe de France."

"What? You're going out with that stuck up preppy?"

Ginger smiled to herself. Everything was going exactly as planned!

"Its my life! Unless you want to say that I won the bet.  Then its all yours
again."

"Not on your life!  By the way, I am running for student council President. 
I've already got the backing of the football team. The current student
council is just a bunch of wimps, mostly men, who knuckle under to the
administration on important issues.  When I'm President things will
change!"

"We' ll, you'll get my vote.  Now if you will excuse me I  have just loads
of things to do to get ready for my date."

She brushed by him, but not without a lump in her throat. He grabbed  
her arm to stop her.  The pressure of his newfound strength hurt her 
slender arm., and she jerked it away.

"Are you really going out with Bruce?"  he inquired, clearly rattled by
Ginger's  appearance, as well as her choice of partners.

She nodded, smiling a wicked, sexual smile.

"Hey.  If you want I can find you another date. I'll find you somebody I
like and respect as a man," blurted Ginger as Derek.

"Then you go out with him!" She stared challengingly at him, enjoying  the
fight.  It was so easy to bait him that it was silly.  She wondered how many
times women did this to her, as Derek, without her knowledge?

 Derek bristled dangerously. "I forbid you to date Bruce!"

Ginger's mouth started to form the phrase "Bite me," but she choked it
down.  Instead she just flashed a brilliant smile, and stated, very sweetly, 
"I'll see you later, Derek."

She glided carelessly away, rubbing her big boobs against his arm as 
she did.  Ginger strutted off triumphantly, her high heels clicking like a 
machine gun, knowing that Derek was fuming behind her.  His eyes
practically burned  into her back, and out the front.

By the time that Ginger returned to the Tri-Delt house, the sisterhood was
in absolute chaos. There were at least 10 phone messages for her from
various male admirers that had seen her during the course of the day.  That
list included one 'respected'  faculty member.  On top of  that, the house
was abuzz with the news that Derek had asked Tiffany to be his campaign
manager for student council. (she was Senator Grasper's niece)  However, 
neither of those was the big news item.

There was a story in the school newspaper, The Daily Collegian, about a
theft in the toxicology lab.  The article indicated that a small pretty
redhead, identity unknown, had taken one of the samples from the
naturalistic medicine study.  The campus police were conducting an
investigation to find the vile perpetrator.  The article speculated that the 
thief may have had an unseen accomplice.

All eyes turned toward Ginger the second she set foot into the house.  This
time it wasn't her appearance that was caused all of the commotion.

The sisters rushed up to her.  Each one voiced one question, albeit in
different forms: "Did you do it?"

To that query, Ginger remarked, "Did I do what?"

One of the sisters handed the paper to her.  She scanned the story, and
her face just fell.  All Ginger could do was stare blankly ahead. It became
very clear to her why the real Ginger had waved her toward the window
in the lab yesterday.  The Derek body had never been seen.  Only the
Ginger body had been seen, and the real Ginger was safely away, hidden
inside the Derek body. 

It was only a matter of time before the campus police caught up with her.
She thought, how many pretty, petite redheads could there be on campus?
Ginger had pretty much announced that she was THE pretty redhead on
campus with her performance today.  

Ginger had to think of something, and think of something fast.  The only
thing that she could come up was a confession 

"It was just a prank.  I didn't mean any harm . . . honest!"

That was it.  She had impulsively confessed her guilt in front of an entire
sorority.  Ginger was gripped by a sudden irrational fear.  If she was
caught, she could actually be expelled from school.  They could revoke all
of the real Ginger's scholarships, leaving her with no money to survive The
situation couldn't have possibly been worse.  

Actually it could.  That night she had to ignore Tiffany gloating about her
coming date with Derek, and how she was going to be his campaign
manager. It seemed that all of her best laid plans were going up in smoke.

That was when Carol came to her rescue yet one more time.  She bustled
into their suite, wearing a grin.

"Good news.  I spoke to Susan (the chapter president) and she agreed
that we would back you up.  She's going to tell the rest of the girls that, if
they are asked, to say that it was all a sorority prank.  She's not going to
hang you out to dry.  If they catch you, there will still be punishment, but
it won't be too bad."

That was good news, but did very little to lighten her mood. Ginger should
have been getting ready for the big date with Bruce, but all she could do
was sit in the room and sulk. The original Ginger had left her hanging at the
end of the rope, that should rightfully be around her own neck. 

Carol recognized her dour mood.  She came and sat by Ginger on the
bed, and took the book out of her slender hand and  attempted to change
the subject.  She had Ginger tell her all about what happened in the
afternoon class.  Actually, she wanted her to recount the story with every
gory detail.  In truth, the telling of the tale did bring Ginger out of the
tailspin somewhat, but not totally.  She still wasn't motivated to get ready
for the night.

Zero hour was fast approaching.

Carol beamed after the story was complete. "See? I told you it would  all
work out. Girl . . . you've got more feminine mystique then you know what
to do with.  I'm kind of surprised that you haven't discovered it before
now.  I think I've got something that will cheer you up.  If  THIS doesn't
put you in the mood for a date with THE Bruce Rand, nothing will!" 

"W-what," queried Ginger, looking up from her melancholy with a curious
gaze.  

Carol got up from the bed, and paced over to where there was a
Frederick's of Hollywood bag.  Ginger hadn't noticed it before when she
entered the room.  She had been so preoccupied with her own sorry
situation.

Carol proceeded to pluck a small piece of black lingerie from the bag,
announcing, proudly, "Here.  I told you I would buy you something 
special today."  Carol handed them over to where Ginger was sitting.

"A devil seemed to whisper in my ear.  Get them for Ginger!" Carol
added.

"What are they?" she asked innocently.

"Crotch less evening stockings."

"W-what? W-w-why?"

Carol cocked one elegant eyebrow. "Honey, if I have to tell you that,  you
have a lot more to learn than what I thought!"

Then it occurred to the new Ginger all at once.  She was expected to 
have sex with Bruce Rand tonight.  It wasn't something that she even
considered before, but she had unwittingly sent him all of the  signals.  She
was just playing at being a sexy girl before.  Now it was all to real.

Carol ignored the mental musings of her student.  It was time for another
lesson. "This is Carol's rule #23.  Dressing and acting sexy is only  the
bait.  Sex is the hook. That's how you keep a man, or at least have him sniffing
around for more.  We made you into the perfect bait that no man could
resist.  Now you have to close the deal!"

"I don't know if I can," cried Ginger.

This wasn't a lie.  She was able to do it before, with the real Ginger, in
part because of love, but mostly due to the fact it was her own body.  She
wasn't sure she could do it with another man.  Maybe, just maybe she
could do it if she were in love, but she didn't feel anything for Bruce Rand. 
In truth, Ginger detested him.

"Sure you can," was the only advice that Carol would give her.

Ginger was trapped, and she knew it.  The only thing that she could do
now was go on the date, and try to resist any advance.  This plan had
gone much too far already. 

Carol decided that the glamorous black evening stockings would be
perfect with a golden evening dress in her own closet.  While her
roommate, and now mentor, prepared the clothing, Ginger took another
bath.  This time, at Carol's suggestion, the water was laced with scented
oils that would infuse her skin.  The whole effect would make her seem
more feminine than she had already become!

Ginger shaved her legs, from the real Ginger's memories.  Once she
mentally decided the course of action that she wanted to take, the  body's
native reflexes just seemed to take over.  Surprisingly, she even found it
to be enjoyable . . . strangely relaxing.  The bodies native reflexes
performed equally well on the washing, drying, and styling of her
extremely long red hair.  It came out perfect, like she had been doing it her
entire life.

With a decided lump in her throat, and butterflies in her stomach, Ginger
hoped that the body's memories and reflexes would kick in, if push  came
to shove, and she had to engage in sex.

She made up her lovely face with bold evening make-up that Carol
selected to compliment the gown. Ginger spent twenty minutes, with
Carol's help, finding the right jewelry to accent the outfit. 

Finally, she looked in the mirror. Her image took her breath away.  
 
"God.I AM gorgeous," she found herself saying aloud.

"Bruce doesn't stand a chance!" Carol commented.

In spite of the potentially compromising dilemma, she spun around, and
her white teeth flashed.  Her visage filled her with feminine pride and
pleasure.  Every girl in the world would envy her tonight!  

Still, there was the constant reminder of air upon her exposed crotch,
through the stockings, and under the dress.  Danger lurked just around the
corner.

***********

When Bruce saw her, he just stared . . .  hypnotized.  For a second, it
appeared that he stopped breathing.  However, an expression, which
Ginger immediately recognized, came over him.  It was an expression of
the single minded resolve that the hunter shows to its prey.  Bruce's whole
aspect betrayed his unspoken intent to liberate Ginger from her clothes .

Ginger had to suppress a strong urge to preen. He was already hers for
the taking . . . her abject slave! Why make it worse, she thought. It's going
to be an interesting night as it is. 

Bruce opened the door leading away from the sorority house,
simultaneously presenting his elbow in a gentlemanly gesture. She put a
trembling hand on his elbow, to be escorted to his waiting chariot.  The
last thing that Ginger heard, before the door closed completely behind
them, was the voices of the gathered sisiters telling her to  have  a good
time.

In another classic gesture of a true cultured gentleman, Bruce opened  for
her the passenger door of his new Porsche Boxster.  He expertly took one
of her hands to help Ginger, when she eased herself  into the low seat
Carefully, she swung her legs in, so as not to expose herself, specifically
her barren crotch.  However, the relative positions of Bruce and  Ginger,
gave him a great view of her impressive, deep cleavage.

Unfortunately, it also gave Ginger a perfect view of Bruce's crotch.  There
was a steadily growing , if not large, bulge in the lap of his trousers.   The
butterflies reappeared in the pit of her stomach.

The new Ginger refused to face exactly how much peril  she was really in. 
However, she did have had a fairly good idea when Bruce, once inside the
car, took her other hand and kissed it.

"You look very beautiful tonight," he whispered.  "I am really looking
forward to this date. I feel like I never have been on a date before. You're
so beautiful that you drove all the other women in the world right out of
my mind!"

The butterflies in her stomach flew away, as if on a summer breeze, be
replaced by a warm, self satisfied glow.

######################################################

No celestial drama is complete with out a bad guy . . . a villain.  Ole'
Scratch, he of many names and faces, and lies, had  watched this whole
passion play from the wings with an amused, tolerant silence.  Now it was
his turn enter the drama, take stage center.  He nodded to himself, as time
and destiny gave him his stage cue.

He chuckled first.  A Cosmic Joke indeed!  The joke had been played
upon the Big Kahuna, if the truth were known.  Since altering the very
nature and mentality of his creations, oh so long ago, he had  unwittingly
created the perfect environment for Ole' Scratch to thrive.  He had thrown
the whole shootin' match into turmoil.  

Who better to flourish in chaos, then me . . . the LORD OF CHAOS,
thought Ole' Scratch.

Since that time, there had been no miracles . . . no revelations. Ole'
Scratch and the Big Kahuna remained in perfect balance.  No quarter was
taken, nor one given. Ole' Scratch mentally reviewed how things really
worked since the Cosmic Joke.  

One thing remained the same.  The only purpose of the human soul was
to get from point "A" to point "B".  Point "A" was ignorance.  Point "B"
was enlightenment.  Naturally, the shortest way between point "A" and
point "B" was a straight line.  It was a  certainty that every soul eventually
makes it from point to point . . .that was predestiny.  

That was where free will came into play.  At any place on the road, from
point to point, an individual soul could veer off onto a side road. 
Inevitably, there was always branch out on the side road which could lead
one back to the main path.  It could also lead to another side road, further
away from the main path. Such was the nature of free will. 

"Thank God," roared Ole' Scratch with mock piety. 

If the soul did not complete the journey from point to point in one lifetime,
then the would have to return to another lifetime, to pick up the  sojourn 
aprroximately where it left off.  This is where it got a little complicated.
If your first incarnation was male, it was more than likely that you would
return as male.  The same worked for female.  Thus, if the soul did not
reach its ultimate destination, the Big Kahuna's Cosmic Joke could not  be
corrected.  It would only be perpeutated.

Ole' Scratch also reflected on his course of action since this "new age" had
begun.  As he controlled the physical world, it was his goal to keep all of
the human souls on the mortal plane of existence.  Literally Hell on Earth.
The longer that he could keep the soul upon a side road, spinning its
wheels, or even leading it further astray, the less and less souls there were
in Heaven.  That meant less souls to be placed into the bodies of an ever
burgeoning population.  If Ole' Scratch could keep all of the souls here
long enough, the Big Kahuna would have to utilize the souls already in
heaven to satisfy the demand.  In turn, if Ole' Scratch could keep THOSE
souls here also, there would be nothing left in Heaven.  The universe was
his.

The significance of a stunningly beautiful and radiant woman is that it
warps the equilibrium.  Such a beautiful woman, like an angel, can  inspire
ordinary men to greatness, or even miracles, just as she can tempt men,
with her carnality, into the based of deeds.  All of that just to possess
her.  Ole' Scratch had used many a temptress to accomplish his foul 
purposes.

The Big Kahuna had tried twice before in this "new age" to alter the
equilibrium by injected such a woman into the mix.  Both had been created
by the same tribal rite that had been used on Ginger/Derek.  In both of
those situations, Ole' Scratch had been able to corrupt the Big Kahina's
spiritual handiwork by tainting the new woman.  He had pushed them over
the edge such that they became drunk upon their own new sexuality.
While they were in the game, Ole' Scratch had utilized that sexuality  to in
turn lead a large number of men astray.  One of those women was Marilyn
Monroe. Witness the corruption of John Kennedy, and his death, giving
a near mortal wound to the American Dream. 

The other was Dorothy Stratton, who started out as a fat male college
student.  She had been essentially good, and a formidable ally of the Big
Kahuna.  Ole' Scratch had only been able to corrupt her for a short time
before her inate goodness reemerged.  He had to use her boyfriend to
eliminate her from the great game, before she had a chance to inspire men
to great deeds.  Had she lived, she may have been able to strike a fatal
blow to Ole' Scratch's grand scheme.  Marilyn had just lived out her
usefulness!

And so, the Big Kahuna was attempting to employ his gambit yet one
more time with Ginger.  Marilyn had been good, before corrupted. 
Stratton had been better.  Ginger looked to be better than both of them
combined.
 
It was essential that Ole' Scratch taint her as soon as possible.  If  he
could pull her to his side, he may well take the whole shootin' match in this
incarnation.  Truly, the winning piece for either side had been placed up
on the board.

It was fortunate for Ole' Scratch that Ginger had been placed into the path
of Bruce Rand!  Ole' Scratch had been intimately involved with the
extended Rand family for the better part of a century.  Bruce was, after all,
from old money.  The question was, where had that money come from?
Perhaps it was the transaction between Thaddeus Rand, Bruce's great,
great, great grandfather, and Ole' Scratch!

Bruce grew up with all the advantages of privilege.  He had received
comparable training to that of Carol.  The only exception was that this
training was designed to be gentlemanly, even chivalrous, while all of  the
while meant to separate a girl from her panties.  The skills, mannerisms,
and very speech was created to bend the most reluctant and resistant of
wills.  It could melt the coldest of hearts.

As a member of the most richest, and most prominent of families, Bruce
had many opportunities to hone those skills into a dangerous weapon.  He
truly was the finest product ever produced by the Rand line, which of
course, was Ole' Scratch's goal all along. It was called breeding.
  
It was often said that Bruce could charm the panties off of a nun!  He
was a vile rogue, a rake, of truly monumental proportions.  And . . . he
was the sole heir of the entire  Rand fortune, a multi-national corporation
with formidable power.

Yes. Ole' Scratch had great plans for Bruce.  His first job, unbeknownst
to even himself, was to corrupt Ginger into an even greater weapon, for
his practiced hand. 

The original Ginger, now Derek, would not be forgotten!  He had already
used the former Derek to his advantage, and may prove to useful still. His
complusion was to get ahead by becoming more powerful.  He longed to
be a force for good . . . to make a difference.
 
It has rightly been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions!
In order to accomplish so noble a goal, the new Derek, former Ginger,
was already guilty of much evil.
 
"All in the name of a great good, of course," sniggered Ole' Scratch,
admiringly. 

The real Ginger had lied, manipulated, cajoled, tricked the  original Derek
out of his body.  She had voided the sanctity of the miracle of love to do
so, and then left her . . . also in the name of love.
 
As the new Derek, he had seduced his old body.  Now he was seducing
Tiffany (whose Senator Uncle was already in Ole'Scratch's copious
pockets) to gain power. Ah, yes he also showed potential in the grand
game. It was a game that the new Derek seemed determined to win at any
cost.

(below added 05/25/98)

From that point onward, an interesting ritual ensued.  It was almost a
dance of sorts.  Bruce performed all of the classical gestures that a man
does for a woman with the consummate skill of a master musician.  He
opened doors, offered his arm, and even seated Ginger in the restaurant.
Bruce Rand guided her through all of the pomp and circumstance of dining
with the elite.  She was unfamiliar with the rules of engagement and it
showed.

Bruce protected her from all of that.  He even introduced Ginger to his
social peers as his intellectual superior at school.  Ginger couldn't help but
feel a grudging admiration for her fellow student.  Quite in spite of herself,
she found herself actually respecting Bruce . . . even liking him to some
extent.

Of course, that was the game.  Bruce detected her reluctance, and
possible resistance with the first kiss of the hand in his car.  He put his
expertise into overdrive.  He knew from experience that the best way to
break down Ginger's defense was to get her to respect him first.  After
that came like.  After that came . . . . 

Ginger appreciated all of the attention.  Bruce was practically doting on
her.  He never passed up the opportunity to compliment her, or her
appearance, in front of his peers.  Soon, he had them agreeing with him. 
Bruce's gentile, protective manner in this strange place had her moving
ever closer to him.  That was when the touching started.

It wasn't a grope, or even a caress. It was the brush of his fingertips on
her skin, or other parts accidently rubbing against her.  Each time, it
appeared to be part of a larger gesture, or conversation going on at the
time.  Bruce touched her here, and brushed her there.  Each touch was
designed to warm her a little further.  Soon, Bruce was gently rubbing 
against Ginger's breasts, or touching the nape of her neck.  His fingertips
found the small of her back, or touched her cascading hair.

Each touch signaled the glands of Ginger to release a bit more of female
hormones.  The touch of his skin on hers was like the completion of an
electrical circuit.  The smell of his phermones, when Ginger got closer to
him, released even more hormones. Inch by inch, Ginger, against her will
drew ever closer to Bruce.  She could feel her nipples harden a little more
with each touch, and the warmth between her legs grew more insistent.

Ginger found herself wanting to be closer to this man.
The meal was fabulous, and he ordered for her, as he had been trained to
do.  The great Bordeaux Wine, complimented the fare perfectly.  Bruce's
knowledge of epicurean pursuits was impressive.  Ginger found herself
fascinated by his interests in wine and music.  He  had traveled all over the
world, and was witty and deprecating about himself, in stark contrast to
his reputation.  

Ginger let him do most of the talking.  Not that she could say anything of
merit anyway.  She was trying to focus all of her attention on trying to
resist the way that her body felt.  She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt
that her body, at least, desired this man.  The copious amount of wine that
she had imbibed wasn't helping matters much!

Ginger's tiny body wasn't set up to handle that much alcohol.

Suddenly, slow music began to play.

Bruce extended his hand, asking politely, "Would the lady care to dance?"

Ginger tried to voice an objection, but the combination of hormones and
alcohol conspired against her.  She actually wanted to dance with him. 
She blurted out her last ditch effort a avoiding what she knew was going
to happen.

"I-I don't know how."

Bruce took her hand into his, urging her to her feet.  "I'll teach you.  Just
follow where I lead.  It's very easy.  It looks like you are naturally
graceful."

Actually it was Carol's training.  Nevertheless, Ginger felt herself being
pulled up, and led to the dance floor hand in hand, by Bruce.  No sooner 
did they step upon that floor than Bruce swept her into his arms.  His one
arm encircled her narrow waist, with his large hands bracing the small of
her back.  The other continued to hold her hand, in the familiar dancing
position.

Bruce pulled Ginger in closer.  She felt her breasts flatten into his
abdomen.  The whole thing made her feel so very small and feminine. 
Ginger had to fight the urge to control the dance, and to just relax into his
arms.  You're a girl now, she told herself mentally, so act like a girl!

So the spun and twirled, they dipped and curled.  Ginger just went with
the flow, her feet moving to wherever Bruce directed.  

"See!  I told you that you would be a natural," Bruce complimented her. 
"You're a born dancer."

Ginger couldn't resist the urge to hug her companion in response to his
generous words.  When she did, his one hand slipped from hers, and
traveled along her arm to her shoulders, and eventually underneath her
hair.  Bruce's fingers found the sensitive hollows in the nape of Ginger's
neck, and proceeded to knead the softly.

It sent a shiver of pleasure along the length of Ginger's spine.

More couples joined Bruce and Ginger on the dance floor.  The song
changed to one of an even slower pace.  The only thing that was required
for this song was swaying in unison in time with the music.  Bruce did not
break the embrace with Ginger, and instead elected to sway with her in
that position.

He continued to knead the hollows of her neck.  The other hand slipped
lower down from the small of Ginger's back to the top of her derriere.

The totality of Bruce's ministrations finally had the desired effect upon the
new Ginger.  There was no more resistance.  She laid her head upon his
chest, and drank in his phermones.  She thrilled to the sensations of her
nipples growing extremely hard.  She could feel just the faintest trickle of 
warm moisture begin to tickle her inner thigh.

Bruce shifted position, then drew her close again.  This time, Ginger could
feel his erection press into her upper abdomen.  She had to admit that it
made her feel proud that she could do this to a man.

He separated just enough to look at Ginger in the eye.  She felt the hand
which had been upon her neck under her chin.  Bruce tilted her pretty
face upward toward him.  His other hand shifted so that it was now upon
her ass.  

Ginger's heartbeat raced.  She knew what was coming, and now wanted
it as much as he.  As she closed her eyes, she saw his face coming close
to hers.  The next thing that she felt was his lips upon hers.

The kiss became more intense, yet still Ginger did not pull away.  Instead,
she parted her lips to allow him entry into her mouth. It was an invitation
which he could not refuse.  Ginger felt both of Bruce's hand running his
fingers through her luxurious hair.  As an exclamation point to the
seduction, Bruce's fingertips kneaded her scalp ever so gently.

"Do you want to get out of here?" asked Bruce, his voice full of obvious
intent.

"Yes," was Ginger's breathless reply, knowing full well the importance of
that single one-syllable word.

It was an intense trip back to Bruce's place.  Although he was a
prominent member of the SAE fraternity, he maintained an expensive
apartment in an exclusive building.  Once inside the car, Bruce's hand
found the slit in Ginger's evening gown.  His fingers traced up her thigh,
and then to her inner thigh.  

Ginger actually smiled because she remembered what he would find with
his next movement.  Sure enough, his fingertips located, with a element of
surprise, the absence of any crotch to Ginger's hose.

That surprise was short lived.  He smiled back at her, without even a
word.  Ginger then felt his finger begin to play with her swollen clitoris. 
She bit her lip, the feeling bringing back to her the memory of how it felt
to make love to her former body as a woman.

Bruce saw the look of intense pleasure on Ginger's face, and slipped that
finger into her wet vagina.

She dug her fingernails into either side of the leather seat, as a bolt  of
erotic electricity jolted her system.  "Please hurry," moaned Ginger.

The second they were inside Bruce's place, and securely behind locked
doors, Bruce resumed the deep open mouth kiss.  For Ginger, all
willpower was gone.  She yielded to his masculine advances.

It was then that a most extraordinary thing happened.  Up until now,
despite her body, and ever feminizing spirit inside the body, the voice
inside of Ginger's head was still that of her former self, Derek.  It was the
one thing which kept her tethered to her former life.  With the soul kiss, a
very female voice, inside of Ginger's head went, "Ooooohhhhh!"

When Bruce's hand moved up the front of Ginger's golden gown, that
female voice inside of her wished, ooohhh touch me there . . . pleeaasse!
In response to the unspoken desire, Bruce took the big boob into his
hand, and began to massage it in a gentle circular motion.  Ginger felt her
knees buckle underneath her.  She didn't break the kiss, holding on for
dear life, with both of her arms wrapped around his neck.

Bruce felt her give way, and scooped her up into his arms.  He carried her
trembling body into his bedroom, carefully setting her down upon his bed. 
He proceeded to undress first himself, as she watched, and then his willing
partner.  However, he stopped at the crotch less stockings.  Ginger
moved to take those off herself.

Ginger, who had been watching all of this with a mixture of excitement and
fear, felt Bruce stop her hand from removing the stockings.

"No.  Leave them on Baby.  They turn me on, and I want to make love
to you with them on."

Sure enough, Bruce's manhood was standing at full attention.

Ginger watched Bruce's eyes survey her entire body.  Those eyes
radiated pure carnal desire. 

"You are so beautiful," he noted.  "I think you are the sexiest girl on
campus, maybe the sexiest that I've ever seen!"

With that, he drew close to her again.  He resumed his activity of fondling
Ginger's gorgeous full breasts.  The nipples stuck out like pencil erasers.

The woman' voice inside of Ginger's brain thought, Oh Bruce.  I need to
feel you inside of me.

Ginger could stand it no longer.  Her hand found Bruce's manhood, and
guided it into her juicy cunny.  Bruce just went with it.  The sensation of
being penetrated, as a woman, by a body other than her own, was enough
for Ginger.  She exploded into a female orgasm.

She didn't yell.  Neither did she hold onto her partner, not move to meet
his thrusts.  She didn't wrap her slender legs around his waist.  She just
got lost in the colors and sensations of her own body.  She was dimly
aware of Bruce sliding in and out of her, and of a noticeable slurping noise
with each thrust.  Still she didn't move . . . or for that matter even breath.

She was just starting to come out of her orgasmic joy when Bruce came,
and released his sperm into her belly.  The warmth of that seed, deep
within her was not an unpleasant feeling.  For the first time, Ginger thought,
with that woman's voice in her head, that it might not be too bad if she had
to stay in this body.  Ginger just lay in the silent darkness, and enjoyed the
afterglow.

15 minutes later, Ginger was dropped at the stoop of her sorority house. 
Her mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened.  No sooner
had she made love to Bruce, than his behavior seemed to change.  He was
polite, yet less charming than he had been earlier in the evening.  He gave
her clothes so that she could get dressed.  That rather impersonal act
communicated to Ginger that the evening was over.

The kiss at the door of the Tri-Delt sorority was lukewarm at best.  Ginger
desperately tried to recapture the energy of the early evening, but it was
gone.

She looked up into Bruce's eyes to ask, "Call me tomorrow?"

"Sure Ginger.  I'll call you . . . " he responded in a far away voice before
he walked back to his car.

Ginger watched the car speed off.  It was about 2:00 a.m.

**********

"WHAT!" Carol practically shrieked when told all of the gory details by
Ginger.  Actually Ginger had been subjected to a painstaking inquest by
Carol's questioning.  "You've managed to ruin all of my hard work in just
one night."

"W-what?" blubbered Ginger. "I-I slept with him just like you told me to."

"Yeah, but you just lay there like a corpse.  You might as well have
been dead.  You didn't do anything for HIM." observed Carol.

"I-I let him fuck me.  Isn't that enough? I thought I was just supposed to
be passive and to submit to him.  You know, it's kind of traditional." 
protested a shaken Ginger.

"What century are you talking about?  Maybe that works for the Amish
or the stray zombie, but not for guys these days. What were you trying to
communicate to him?  That you weren't really into him?  If so, you most
likely succeeded."

"But, I-I always thought . . ."

Carol interrupted Ginger's train of thought.  "Carol's rule #27.  This is the
most important rule.  A man wants a woman who is going to be a loyal,
reliable, and a lady in public, but a slut behind closed doors. What that
means, quite simply, is that you have to make love to HIM.  You have to
be a closet whore.  If Bruce starts talking, and believe me, Honey, he will,
you'll get a reputation as a bad screw.  You'll be in no better position than
you were before, although you'll look better."

Ginger started to cry.  "I screwed it up then.  He's not gonna call me, and
all of our plans are down the drain."

Carol reflected for a second, then she grew excited.  "Not necessarily. 
Get dressed.  I have an idea."

Ginger got up from the bed where she was still laying after 10 hours of
sleep.  She started to strip off  the night shirt that she wore to bed last
night.  "What?" she asked curiously.

"Our mixer with SAE is tonight right?"

Ginger searched the real Ginger's memories one more time.  The answer
just automatically came to her.

"Yeah.  So?"

"Bruce is a member of SAE.  He'll be there.  You can tell him that you
just weren't yourself last night.  You can tell him that you were just messed
up in the head because of the Derek thing.  He'll believe that.  The thing 
is though . . . you'll have to seduce him this time.  You're going to have to
do things to him, if you want to turn this thing around."

"But . . . I don't know how," cried Ginger.

"That I've already figured out.  We're gonna have to teach you from the
ground up how to DO a man.  For the rest of the day, you are gonna learn
how to turn a man out.  The first thing is to learn what a man likes . . .
what he feels during sex."

"Uh . . ." began Ginger, " . . .  I already know all about that."

Carol arched one elegant eyebrow at her pupil.  "How could you possibly
know about that?"

"You're just going to have to trust me on this one.  That is something I
know ALL about!  What's next?"

"Technique.  For you, we're going to need advanced technique."

"Where am I to learn that?"

"I know this girl from class.  Her name is Sari, and she's here from India. 
Very pretty, and sexy as hell.  She told me once that as a child, she was
schooled in the ways of the Kama Sutra.  She said if I ever wanted to
learn that I should just call her up.  You're going to do the learning for the
both of us!  We're gonna get you ready for that party tonight!"

**********

 Sarifina Radha, nicknamed appropriately "Sari," surveyed Ginger critically
up and down.  Her almost entirely black eyes glittered in the slant of
sunlight coming through her window.

"You'll do," she said simply, the Hindu accent obvious despite the perfect
English.  "Although your breasts are a little large for my taste.

Ginger blushed.  It was hard enough that every man stared at her boobs,
and now women also felt compelled to comment.  She wondered silently,
as she stared at the exotic Indian woman in the gold and purple sari, if
anyone ever looked at her face?

This was Carol's friend.  The young woman seemed to radiate sensual
power and energy.  The darkness of her complexion, combined with the
fluidity of her movements reminded Ginger of a   panther on the prowl. 
Sari's youth belied the sexual confidence that she exuded.

 It was clear that she was comfortable within her own skin.  She was also
comfortable as to how others   particularly men, would react to her.

Sari's huge eyes were black pupils within black irises.  The effect was very
hypnotic.  Her thick, straight black hair flowed down her back to well
below her derriere.  A dot between her elegantly   arched eyebrows
completed the package, marking her nationality.

"It's nice of you to take the trouble to help me, Sarifina," Ginger thanked
meekly.

Carol had departed shortly after making the initial introductions.  She
thought that things would go a lot better if she did not stick around. 
Ginger would be more inhibited.

Sari shrugged expressively, "Please, call me Sari.  I do not find the name
offensive, as it is a diminution of my real name."

 "I will . . . Sari."

Sari took Ginger's hand into hers.  She spoke softly, " Most women,
especially American women, do not take the trouble to learn anything
about sex.  They assume they already know, or are born with enough
knowledge, to please a man.  The Women's Liberation movement has
convinced women in your country that they no longer need to follow the
old ways.  They believe they no longer need such ancient wisdom.  They
are fools!"

It was the sincerity of Sari's words, not the content, which struck Ginger
like a slap across the face. That was not to lessen the importance of the
words themselves.  Ginger continued to listen intently.  More than
anything, she wanted to be as comfortable in her own skin as Sari was in
hers . . . even though her own skin belonged to another person!

"Sex is nature, nature is sex, and sex is women!  Always remember this. 
Forget this fact, and civilization crumbles.  Look at the state of your
American society, and you will find that it is falling apart around you.  It is
because American women have forgotten how to please a man . . . how
to take care of him.  Women are so busy rushing around trying to be the
equal of men, and trying to become important.  What is more important
than the next generation of people?  Who bears the next
 generation?  Not boys, for they are too busy with their toys."

Ginger raised her voice to defend her former, and hopefully future, gender. 
"That is not true, Sari. Many men these days believe that fatherhood is
important."

"Who raises the next generation?" reposited Sari.  "Not men.  Again, they
are too busy with their toys,   or their wars.  Always remember, Ginger,
men destroy while women create.  Women were given the greatest power
of the God above . . . creation of life.  That is something which men cannot
do, so they turn their energies toward destruction of all around them. A
few enlightened souls seek to create   through  the arts.  Who teaches the
next generation to talk, how even to be human?  Was it not a man   who
realized the truth about the nature of things when he said,  The hand that
rocks the cradle, rules   the world?'  Never forget this truth, Ginger!"

 All that Ginger could say was, "WOW!"  She had never thought in those
simple, self evident truths before, especially when she was a man. 
However, there it was.

"To control men, to make out lives full of fulfillment, power, control, and
pleasure, we must take the place of their toys!  Your body must have the
power to banish harmful thoughts from their minds.  The giving of pleasure
through sex is the only way for a woman to hold real power over men. 
Men can acquire wealth through hard work or by deception.  They can
write a story, or paint a picture themselves.  True sexual pleasure can only
be acquires from us . . . women.  We become their fantasies!  We can not
rule men with strength, for our bodies are weak, but we can rule them with
pleasure when we make them our playthings.  We can make them die for
us, work for us, worship us, and live for us," finished Sari, finally.

"I never thought of all of that, Sari.  I always knew that women had a
power over me . . . uh . . . I mean that I held a strange power over
them.  I just never realized what it was."

"Of course not.  Such thoughts are not encouraged in today's Western
society," Sari smiled warmly.  "The Kama Sutra is more than just a bible
of pleasure and desire.  Most people in your society think of it as a 
How-To manual, an  Idiot's Guide to Sex, if you will.  Nothing could be
further from the truth.  Rather, the Kama Sutra is a state of mind . . . a
way of life.  It is thousands of years old, but properly  used it can speak
to any generation.  Come, I am training to become a teacher.  I have been
schooled in the ways of Kama Sutra from birth.  Let me teach you, and
in turn, you will teach others."

Sari turned off the lights, and turned on a overhead projector.  The title on
the screen read, "THE KAMA SUTRA."

"Let us begin," stated Sari softly, as she clicked the projector to the first
frame.  There, depicted in graphic, anatomically correct, form was two
lovers in an impossible sexual position.

 "Oh my, God!" exclaimed Ginger.

"You will learn how to do all of this and more!" gestured Sari toward the
illustration.  "Let me show you how it is done . . . ."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Big Kahuna smiled to himself . . . and he rarely smiled!  Ruling the
known universe was at most times a serious duty.  However, this time he
could not resist.

How little Ole' Scratch understood of how the game is played, or how the
universe works.  How could he?  He had not been around in the millennia
untold, when there was only the Big Kahuna.  Ole' Scratch, like every
other being in the universe, save himself, mistook the ability to manipulate
things directly as power.

It was not.  At best the effect were . . . transient.  You had to keep
manipulating one thing or another   to keep the person directed to your
purpose.  What it was, was one huge headache because you could never
trust which way a person was going to go, and it demanded your constant
attention.  If you had several things going on in different parts of the world
. . . forget about it!

The rest of the Big Kahuna's heavenly host, presumed that he gave up
much when he ceded this portion of his overall power to his fallen first
one.  So did that fallen first one, for that matter!  He had ceded nothing,
except for the constant headache of manipulating everything at once,
which was now Ole' Scratch's to 'enjoy'. Poor fallen, proud fool! He
enjoyed nothing.

Not that he didn't raise that ability to manipulate to an art form.  In the
millennia since his fall he had grown quite skillful in the myriad of uses of
this power.  Unfortunately, that power was nothing with out the other half
of the entire celestial power, that the Big Kahuna retained.

For what was the power to manipulate things directly if you didn't know
what was in the hearts, minds and souls of the people you sought to
direct?   The bottom line was that it was nothing.  Again, it was, at best .
. . transitory.

The Big Kahuna's way was much better. All that he had to do to exert his
control was to understand the heart, mind and soul of that person.  With
his retained power, he could simply whisper a direction or purpose
directly into the soul of that person.  The person would find a way to make
it come about, and therefore, the Big Kahuna could simply to worry about
the details.  The execution would take care of itself.

Oh, occasionally Ole' Scratch disrupted things by manipulating things in
the path of that person.  That was especially true if time was of the
essence, and one little deviation ruined the entire direction.  Such was the
case of Marilyn and Dorothy.  This time . . . this time would be different. 
The Big Kahuna factored in Ole' Scratch's interference into the equation.

It was pleasing to see that Ole' Scratch was right on schedule!

Thus it was that the Big Kahuna turned his attention to a lonely driver on
a road near Ginger and Derek's university . . . . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark O'Connell was one of the up and coming photographers for
Playboy.  He had been sent out with the assignment of collecting
photographs for the upcoming layout, "Girls of the Independent 
Universities."  It was one in a series of layouts depicting beautiful, nubile
college girls.

Mark had been on the road for almost one month now, with varying
amounts of success.  He had visited many universities, and taken pictures
of many beautiful girls.  However, he was looking for that one . . . the one
face and body which would knock everybody's socks off.  So far it had
eluded him, and it showed.

Mark was clearly frustrated.  He needed that one girl, that one discovery,
to launch his career.

He looked up to notice that he was halfway between exit 32 and exit 33. 
It was at least another 100 miles drive to his next destination.

However, as Mark's vehicle approached exit 33, he was overwhelmed by
the oddest urge.  It was undescribable, but he suddenly felt that he HAD
to get off at this exit.  There was no rational explanation for this urge. Then
again, Mark was not a rational man . . . a rational man would not be a
budding Playboy photographer.  In the past, he had learned to trust his
instinct, and did so now.

No sooner did Mark descend the exit ramp, than he saw a big sign for
Rhodes University.  He blinked twice.  There was no mention of any
college named Rhodes University on his itinerary, but decided   that since
he was here already, he might as well check out the girls on the campus. 
You never knew when or where you would find your lucky break.  Where
would the lighting would strike?

Mark looked up toward the sky, saying, Thank-you!"

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Up in Heaven, the Big Kahuna replied, "You are welcome Mark.  Go
discover your destiny."
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark picked up his cell phone with his free hand, hitting the redial/send
button.  Moments later, his assistant, Bobby, who was following a few
miles behind with the equipment truck, greeted him.

"This is Bobby.  Go!"

"Bobby.  This is Mark.  Listen, I accidently got off on exit 33, but found
this place called Rhodes University.  I'm going to check it out."

"Mark, that's gonna put us way behind schedule.  We're pushing it as it is."

"I know, but . . . I have a feeling about this place.  I'll take the heat if we
get any flack, okay?  Just meet me here as soon as you can."

"I hope you know what your doing, Man!"

"Trust me.  I have a gut feeling.  See you in a few."

**********

Sari finished several hours of intense instruction, including graphic
demonstrations, with Ginger.  Naturally, Ginger was feeling, shall we say,
a little hot under the collar.  Nevertheless, it didn't prevent Sari from giving
her one last bit of advice.

"Now remember Ginger, the Kama Sutra says that you should not mount
your lover until he was twice come forth with his seed.  Thus, you must
cause him to come forth once with the techniques of the hands which I
have shown you.  The second time, it is to be with your mouth, and the
third with him inside your body.  In this way, your lover will feel manly and
confident for coming forth twice before.    It  is also meant for the
maximum pleasure of the woman.  On the third time, your lover will be
able to   stay rigid for the longest time.  It is on that occasion that you can
utilize one or more of the positions   that I have shown to you."

Ginger wasn't very happy with this last instruction.  She hadn't been happy
when Sari showed her how to use her mouth and tongue on her lover's
manhood.  They had utilized a average size dildo, and it   was all that she
could do to prevent herself from gagging.  Ginger had done many things
since   becoming a woman.  There was no way that she would take a man
into her mouth.  However, she had   watched, and duplicated the
techniques of Sari exactly.  After all, it was only a rubber dildo.

Sari continued, "Of these methods, the pleasuring of your lover with your
mouth is the most important. It will make him feel powerful and confident
that you have willingly assumed such a submissive   position. The power
is yours for the taking.  A woman who would happily pleasure her man so,
is sure   to have him faithfully return to her bed.  This is a power that you
must take for your own, Ginger."

She didn't care what Sari said.  There was just no way that she was going
to do this . . . there was only so far that she would go on this bet!

"Close your eyes, and stick out your tongue, Ginger," instructed Sari.

"But why?" question her smaller student.

"It is my parting gift to you for being such an attentive student.  Don't
question me.  Just do it."

Ginger closed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue.  Shortly, she felt a drop
of liquid fall to the center of her tongue.  A few seconds after that, a
sensation of numbness spread throughout her tongue.

"Don't worry," whispered Sari, suddenly beside her.  "The numbness will
only last for a few minutes. Hold still for a second."

Ginger felt a dull jab to the center of her taste organ.  "Owww," she tried
to cry, although it came out very muffled.

"You may open your eyes, Red One.  In answer to your unspoken
question, I have pierced your tongue.  You now bear a small gold stud,
which will help with the oral pleasure of your lover.  You will thank me for
this later."

Ginger shuddered, for the numbing agent was still working its magic.  Sari
gestured for her to remain silent by putting a finger to her pursed lips.

"Shhh.  Just listen for a few moments.   Never forget, Ginger.  Even though
it is we who give pleasure to men, it is we who experience pleasure far in
excess of theirs."

That much was true.  In the one and only time that she reaally had made
love as a woman, the time   with Ginger in Derek's former body the
sensations were like nothing she had ever known.  Sari's next   statement
excited her down to her very toe.

"Adherence to the principles that I have shown you will increase your
pleasure another tenfold.    Tierasis was a person in mythology who was
reported to have been both a man and a woman.  Hera   and Zeus
questioned Tierasis as to which gender felt the greater pleasure.  Tierasis
responded truthfully   that it was the woman by far, whereupon, Hera
punished him by turning him back into a man."

Ginger giggled at the last historical anecdote.  Sari didn't think that it was
the least bit funny.

"Carol told me of your foolish wish to be a man . . . this cosmic joke of
yours.  Why would you trade your magnificent body for that of a clumsy,
pleasure dead, nay even brain dead, man?  Foolish child! Why would you
imagine that you would hold more power as a man.  You hold more
power in the junction of your legs, or in the sweetness of your mouth than
any man could have.  It is you who have the power of yes and no to love
you!"

By the time Ginger departed from Sari's place, her heart was beating
wildly.  Other parts of her body, namely the pleasure centers, were tingling
from the things that she had learned.  If she used the knowledge that she
now possessed, any man would be helpless clay to by molded into
whatever shape   she desired by the power in her hands or her body.  As
if on cue, Ginger looked up to see the men on the street stare at her with
lust and desire.  It made her swell with feminine pride.

She was only wearing jeans, T-shirt, and Ginger's little tennis shoes!

Also, by this time, the feeling had returned to her tongue.  It felt strange,
and just a little painful, to have the stud there.  Although Ginger had
already decided not to use it for Sari's intended purpose, she had decided
to leave it there anyway.  She had decided to cultivate a bad girl image,
if in appearance only, to show that bitch, Tiffany what was what.  She
thought she was so wild!

It did made it harder to talk, but not enough so to make her sound like she
was slurring her words. Ginger imagined that she would grow used to it in
time, if she had to spend a lot of time in this body. Hopefully, then it would
be a nasty little surprise for the real Ginger when she got her body back.

Ginger could only hope Carol's plan to make the real Ginger jealous was
successful!

She was so lost in thought that she failed to notice a growing crowd in the
University Quad directly ahead of her.  Ginger was curious as to what
could attract such a large crowd of students on a late Saturday afternoon. 
Actually it was closer to evening.  As she drew closer, she noticed
placards denouncing the mistreatment of women.  There were cries and
shouts of outrage about pornographic usage of women's bodies.

Ginger saw another girl standing on back of the crowd, trying to see what
was going on.  She approached the girl.

"What is all of this?"

The girl turned to look at Ginger.  "It's Playboy magazine.  They are
looking for girls to pose naked, and to feature in one of their layouts. 
They got here a few hours ago."

"In Rhodes University?" blurted Ginger in a state of shock.  As Derek, she
was an avid reader of Playboy magazine, particularly the features of
women from different colleges.  Whoever thought they would come to
little Rhodes University?

In any event, as interesting as all of this was, Ginger had to get back to the
sorority to start getting   ready for tonight's mixer.  It only took her a short
time in the body of a woman to drive home how   much time they needed
to get ready for even the simplest of things.  She turned away from the girl
who   had  answered her question to continue her homeward journey.

"Hey?  Aren't you gonna stay and protest with us?"

"No.  I'm sorry, but I can't.," Ginger responded.  Not that she would have
anyway, for she happened to agree with the concept of Playboy magazine. 
That was one of the things that made America great!

"Sure," chided the girl sarcastically.  She looked Ginger up and down,
remarking, "You are probably the type of girl that would pose in that
trash!"

That was uncalled for.  Ginger wasn't the type of girl to pose in a magazine
at all . . . she wasn't really a girl!  The remark didn't even dignify an
answer.  Instead, Ginger just looked away, and continued to walk.

Unfortunately for her, Mark O'Connell noticed Ginger through a
separation in the angry throng.  That glimpse was enough to take his
breath away.  He nudged Bobby in the rib cage, shouting over the other
voices, "That's her!  There's the one that I've been looking for!"

"Where? Where?" came Bobby' hurried answer.  He followed Mark's
finger to see the bottom of a very shapely red head walking away from
them.  Her red hair was streaming behind her, tousled gently by the wind. 
He had to admit that the view from behind was spectacular!

"Let's go get her, Bobby!" demanded Mark.

The two co-workers pushed through the crowd, elbowing the students as
they went.  They had to run to catch up to Ginger.  They trotted up to her
out of breath.  As they neared, Mark kept shouting, "MISS?  PLEASE
WAIT!  MISS?"

It dawned on Ginger that somebody was screaming at her, so she stopped
dead in her tracks.  She looked back over her shoulder to see two
unknown men come up to her.

"Yes?" said Ginger, unaware that she was flashing a sexy smile.

It was a smile that stole Mark's heart away. As long as he lived, not a day
would go by without him seeing that smile. He had fancied himself immune
to the charms of beautiful women . . . he had seen enough of them.  He
quickly explained who he was, and that he wanted to take some
photographs of her for the magazine.

Ginger hesitated for a moment.  She had spent a lifetime ogling at women
in that particular magazine.  It was sort of mind numbing to think that now
somebody wanted her to model for that same magazine.  Even though she
was a man inside, the idea was strangely . . . erotic.  Her errogenous
zones, which had quieted somewhat since leaving Sari's place, started to
tingle again.

Still the idea was just too wild to even consider.

"No.  I'm sorry but I can't.  Please try to understand."

"Miss, I . . . ." began Mark.

"Ginger!" she pointed out.

"What?"

"My name.  It's not Miss, but Ginger."

"That's a very pretty name, Ginger."

"Thank you," blushed Ginger, in spite of herself.  By this time, the rest of
the crowd had caught up to them, and had surrounded then to listen to the
conversation.

"No as pretty as the girl herself, I must say," noted Mark.

"Please stop. You are embarrassing me . . . ."  Ginger stopped realizing
that she did not know the man's name.

He handed her a card.  "Mark.  I am serious.  As you can well imagine,
I have seen many women in this line of work . . . many gorgeous women. 
You blow them all away.  You could be a centerfold if you let me Ginger. 
I swear.  Please reconsider modeling for me."

"I don't know . . . ."  So intent was Ginger on the conversation with Mark,
that she failed to notice another photographer from the school newspaper
snapping her picture.

"Just think it over, okay?  Listen.  I'm going to stay in town until late
Monday.  If you change your min just call me down at the Holiday Inn. 
Just promise me that you'll think it over."

"I'll think it over," assured Ginger, not wanting to hurt the man's feelings. 
"I can't promise you`anything."

"I understand.  Just think it over."

Ginger stuck out her slender hand to Mark, "It was very nice to meet you
. . . Mark."

Mark shook her hand, while the school photographer continued to snap
away.  "You too."

A murmur went through the crowd.  Suddenly, there was a gentle gust of
wind, blowing Ginger's red tresses into her face.  Absently, she drew her
long hair out of her face, and after raking through it with her long nails, and
deposited it on the top of her pretty head.

Of all of the various new sensations that she had to get used to, Ginger
found extremely long hair to be one of the most annoying.  It was
constantly in her face, in her way, and seemed to move every time that she
moved.  It was a constant weight pulling on her scalp and the back of her
neck.  Since the switch in the park, the new Ginger had taken to
constantly pushing the troublesome hair this way and that.  First it would
be on one side, only to be flipped around to the other.  The effect was a
more tousled, wind blown coif that made her visage wilder and sexier. 
She did it all without even trying.

Mark was one of those men who were turned on by the sight of women
playing with their hair.  As such, Ginger's gesture was nothing short of . .
. devastating.  He gulped.  The distraction almost made him forget the
other part of his offer.

"Oh . . . Ginger?"

"Yes?" replied Ginger softly, as she was turning to go.

"I almost forgot.  You get $1,000 if you let me take a few photographs for
my layout."

That surprised Ginger somewhat.  As Derek, she was always led to
believe that Playboy models were very well paid to expose their bodies.

"Only $1,000?" noted Ginger.

Mark was inspired.  He didn't want to let his discovery walk away from
him over an issue about money.  He didn't care what his budget at this
point, Hell, he would gladly pay her out of his own pocket.

"Did I say $1,000?  I meant $2,500 . . . no wait . . . $5,000.  It is only for
three little pictures.  What do you say?"

"I'll think about it Mark . . . ."  This time, Ginger did turn away in earnest,
and continued on her journey  back to the sorority house.

Everybody in the crowd, but particularly Mark, watched her small round
behind wiggle naturally in her tight jeans as she walked away.  The hair .
. . that lovely hair was just whipping so easily in the wind.

Bobby, who up until this point was lost among the other people in the
crowd, muscled his way forward to Mark.  His comment said it all.

"Wow!  You were right, she is one hot babe!"  However, he added a
tidbit that he had picked up from the crowd, "From what I hear, she's the
smartest person on campus."

"I'm not surprised," the photographer said.  "She's the one, Bobby.  That
girl is Playmate of the year material, and she's going to be my discovery. 
Did you feel the natural and casual sexuality about her?  I've never seen
anything like it before, yet she seemed to be so real . . . so genuine!"

"She's a little shorter than our usual Playmates," observed Bobby,
correctly.  All of the playmates did seem to be in the 5'8" to 5'10"
category.

"I don't care.  Her petiteness just makes her seem so much more . . .
feminine.  It's like this utterly gorgeous sexual creature in a little girl's body. 
Men often have fantasies about petite, submissive women.  I'm betting that
we could tap directly into that fantasy if we can capture her on film."

"So were staying for a while?" queried Bobby to his superior on this
assignment.

"We're staying!  Call the Holiday Inn and get us some rooms.  That's
where I told her that I'd be."

"How do you know there's a Holiday Inn in this town?"

Mark stared at him before answering, sarcastically, "What college town
doesn't have a Holiday Inn?"

"Right!"

 **********

Ginger found the sorority house to be in a state of uproar, the instant that
she walked in the door.  She quickly found another girl, Susie, and asked,
"What's all the panic?  What's going on?"

The other girl looked at her, nonplussed.  "You haven't heard?  It's the talk
all over the campus.  Derek got put into the football game to start the
second half.  He threw four touchdown passes to win the game.  He single
handedly beat our arch rival.  Tiffany's going nuts right . . . ."

Susie stopped in mid sentence.  It suddenly dawned on her that she was
conversing to Derek's recent ex.  "I-I'm so sorry, Ginger.  I didn't mean
to . . . ."

Ginger interrupted her with a gentle touch to her arm.  Although it upset
her greatly, she told Susie,  "It's okay.  I'm sure that you didn't mean
anything by it."

While the rest of the girls celebrated with Tiffany over the stunning success
of her new beau, Ginger glumly ascended the steps to her room.  Had
there been a football game today?  It had so easily slipped her mind.
Ginger fretted over the ease of which it had eluded her.  She thought,
how?  I've gotten ready for football games every Saturday for the last few
years.  I couldn't have just forgotten it.  It's like it just wasn't . . . important
to me anymore?

Ginger felt close to crying again.  The real Ginger's success wasn't as
upsetting as the realization of what she had lost this day.  How much
further could it go?

Fortunately, Carol was in the room waiting for her with open arms. 
Ginger just dropped her purse, and ran into her roomie's warm embrace. 
The stood there hugging for a few moments.  Again, Ginger felt
the alarming sensation of having her big breasts push into the upper tummy
of the taller woman.  At this particular second, it didn't really matter.  The
only thing that did was the safe harbor of her embrace!

When they finally separated, Carol looked down at her beautiful, if not
disheveled friend.  "Y'all have heard then?"

"Yeah.  Susie greeted me with the wonderful news.  It just isn't fair!"
complained Ginger, although there was no way that Carol could possibly
know what she was complaining about.

"I'm so sorry . . . ." Carol started to say in her rich Southern accent.  She
stopped abruptly when she noticed a glint of metal coming from Ginger's
mouth.  "Did y'all get your tongue pierced?"

Ginger didn't answer at first, instead turning a brilliant red.  "Sari did it! 
She just told me to close my`eyes and then . . . WHAM!  I'm pierced."

Carol didn't even want to go in to the whys and wherefores of the
piercing.  She got this huge grin on her face.  "Why you bad girl you!"

It was a good tension breaker.  Ginger smiled, despite her self, and from
the smile . . . open laughter.  Carol joined in on the levity.  Soon both girls
were rolling around on their beds, enjoying the moment.

Finally, Carol observed, "Tiffany's gonna have herself one little snit when
she find's out.  She prides herself on bein' the wanton one of the house. 
I think you one upped her girl."

"It wasn't intentional, Carol."  Ginger genuinely liked this girl.  If and when
she returned to being Derek, she would surely miss her camaraderie.

"Maybe so, but it'll surely go with the outfit that I picked up for you'll this
afternoon.  Just do me one lil' ole' favor, okay?"

"What, Carol?"

"Just don't let our illustrious chapter president, Janine find out about it. 
You know how she is  bout our image and all, and this would be
outrageously scandalous to her.  I tried to warn y'all about electing her
prissy little bottom to the position, but no one would listen to Carol."

Unbidden, images of the real Ginger's past, particularly her interactions
with Janine, flashed through Ginger's head.  It was getting easier for her to
access those memories when the situation called for it.  She panicked
again, thinking that she was losing her true self.  Ginger tried to access her
memories as Derek, just to make sure that they were not gone.  They
were there all right, but they seemed to be more like information that she
had gotten from a book, or an image as seen from a tv or movie screen.
The emotional or personal connection to those memories and images
seemed to be blurring with the passage of time.

Ginger new that thinking about that problem would only lead to despair. 
She had to concentrate on the task at hand.  Make Derek jealous!

She looked up at Carol, rolling her eyes.  "What did you get me THIS
time?"

Carol produced a bag that she had been hiding behind her back.  She
pulled the garments from the bag, making Ginger's eyes go wide.  "Oh .
. . my . . . God!"

"Let's get started . . . ."

 **********

It took the concerted effort of the two women, and three hours, to get
Ginger ready for the mixer.  Everything had to be just perfect in order to
entice Bruce into giving her a second chance.  It wasn't the clothes so
much as it amounted to only an extremely tight, lycra mini-dress.

Ginger stood in front of the mirror, inspecting herself.  She grumbled, "Are
you sure that I can't wear ANYTHING under this?  This is so . . .
indecent!"

"Absolutely not. If y'all were to wear panties, the lines would show
through the dress.  The lycra was made tight enough so that y'all don't
need the support of your boobs.  It even works for bigger boobs like
yours."

"You're not kidding this is tight," remarked the red head, as she continued
to study her unbelievable reflection in the glass.  "I can hardly even
breathe!"

"That's part of the design, silly.  The waist acts like a girdle, or a modern
day corset slenderizing your waist into wasp-like proportions.  It's
working isn't it?"

Ginger cocked one elegant arched eyebrow.  She had to admit, it was at
that.  The one piece black dress had narrowed her waist to microscopic
dimensions.  It also lifted and separated her very big breasts.  Even the
bulge of her mons venus could be seen beneath the tight from panel of the
garment. The hemline only came to her extreme upper thigh.

The most distressing thin was that her bare cunny lay only inches above
that hemline.  The strong material was so sheer that the bulge of her
nipples could be seen upon the rise of each spectacular breast.  Should
there be cold air in the frat house, nothing . . . absolutely nothing, would
be left to the mens' imagination.

If you ignored the fact that Ginger's skin was a different color than the
dress, it would almost have appeared that she was wearing nothing at all. 
This dress was obscene!

Completing the package was a pair of black pumps with 5" spiked heels. 
Ginger wobbled slightly on the heels.

"Can I at least wear normal shoes?  I can't even walk in these things."

"No you can't, young lady.  It goes with the rest of the outfit.  Just walk
around in them a little bit, and you'll get used to them."

Ginger did as she was told to appease her co-conspirator in this grand
scheme.  She just hoped that the ends justified the means.  However, with
each step, she noticed that the shoes made her tits bobble alarmingly,
swelling the nipples.  Although she had gotten used to wearing high heels
through the body's reflexes, she wasn't adapting as quickly to these heels. 
The real Ginger had obviously never attempted to walk in these virtual
stilts.

She grasped at her boobs to prevent them from jiggling so.  She found the
mounds to project prominently and provocatively from her narrow chest.

She returned to face herself in the mirror.  "Isn't Janine going to freak out
over this outfit?"

"Well, she isn't going to be happy about it.  I think as long as y'all are
discreet with Bruce, y'all be fine.  No sluttin' it up in front of everyone. 
Hear?"

"I understand," agreed Ginger.  The dull pain in her tongue had still not
died down from the piercing.  There was no way that she could eat dinner
with a hole in her taste organ.  Besides, she had no appetite with all that
was going on.

The reflection depicted exactly what took the majority of the preparation
time.  Carol had piled her red hair on top of her head in a sophisticated
coif.  She elected to work with the tousled look that the new Ginger had
taken to.  The result was a jaw dropping combination of up sweeps,
bangs, and tendrils.  This was the first time that Ginger had worn her hair
up since the switch, and had to confess to herself that it felt good to have
the hot, heavy hair of her neck, back, and shoulders.  The constant tickle
of that hair could be . . . annoying, along with everything else that this body
required.

"Girl, those poor frat boys are gonna take one look at you, and have their
souls taken away.  You are a bonafide heartbreaker."

Ginger was about to tell Carol that she couldn't do this, when there came
a knock upon the door.

"Ginger? said an excited girl from outside the door.  Derek is on the phone
for you, and boy does he sound angry.  Tiffany is throwing a fit because
he called you."

That, at least, made Ginger happy.  Maybe there was some room to work
here.

Ginger crossed the room in those damnable heels, picking up the receiver. 
She didn't care much that Carol would be listening to her end of the
conversation.  She knew that she would have to phrase her questions and
answers in such a way to hide the truth of her circumstances.

"Ginger Thompson here," greeted Ginger.

The real Ginger, as Derek, didn't waste anytime getting to the point. 
"What the fuck are you doing posing for Playboy?"

"I'm not."

"Oh really.  I've talked to a couple of people who were in the quad today
who saw you close the deal with the Playboy photographer."

Ginger had to think of how to phrase this without tipping Carol off.  Even
she had not learned of the offer.  "He was interested in me.  I only said
that I would think it over."

She hoped that Carol would assume that they were talking about Bruce.

Meanwhile, the real Ginger continued to assail her from the other end of
the line.  "Well you can stop thinking on this one.  I'll do the thinking for
you.  That is my name, and my reputation that you will be ruining.  I've
spent years living in that body, and trying to be taken seriously for my
mind.  You would be ruining that all in one picture."

"You should have thought about that before you did what you did.  What
right do you have to say what I can or cannot do anymore.  You lost the
right to dictate the life of Ginger Thompson!"  She hoped that sounded
consistent.

Ginger knew that it did when Carol gave her the "You go girl" gesture.

It didn't sit too well with the real Ginger.  "Why you . . . ." she started to
scream.

Ginger wouldn't let him finish.  The way she had tried to talk down at her,
and tried to control her life, as well as that of Derek's infuriated her
greatly.  It was if becoming a man suddenly entitled her to push everybody
around.

"By the way . . . how is Tiffany?  Does she do a satisfactory job on your
laundry.  Does she satisfy you in bed?"

"Get fucked!" roared the real Ginger.  Even Carol could hear it from
where she was sitting.

"You say the sweetest things," cooed Ginger.  "I plan to . . . with Bruce."

Ginger had to jerk her head away from the phone sharply, in response to
her other's rather forceful slamming of he receiver.  She looked over at
Carol, who was smiling.

"I wonder if Derek is going to crash the mixer?" she asked Carol.

"No doubt he will now.  Those moves were aces, Girl.  I just hope that he
gets thrown out, and lands on something sharp.  The asshole.  It couldn't
be set up any better for you, Ginger."

The transaction with the real Ginger, had just strengthen her resolve. 
Carol was right.  It was now or never, and she intended to see this
through, no matter how she had to dress or act.

 **********

All of the girls were gathered in the large foyer of the sorority house to get
their final words from Janine. To no surprise, Ginger's entrance was
greeted by nothing short of gasps and smug whispers.  Tiffany had an
angry look on her face at being upstaged, while Janine just shook her
head.  She wasn't happy with what Ginger was wearing, but was prepared
to give her a little slack in consideration of what Derek and Tiffany had
done to her.  Tiffany kept on giving Ginger the evil eye all of the way
through Janine's speech.

As expected, Janine reminded the girls that they were a proper sorority. 
The proper behavior and decorum must be maintained in order to
preserve their precious reputation.  That held true especially with the men. 
Janine made all of the girls to be proper ladies, and if they had to indulge
their baser instincts to do so in a discreet manner.

The funny thing was, every kept on looking over at Ginger.  After all, she
was wearing the "Fuck me" shoes, and "Fuck me dress!"

When the speech was done, the girls all dispersed to their respective
vehicles to begin their trip to the frat. Carol and Ginger drove over in
Carol's car to the sorority-fraternity mixer that would mark the beginning
of the end.

The Cosmic Joke (Part 13)

When Ginger entered the party, every single man froze in their tracks, and
just stared.  There was dead silence, except for the drip, drip, drip of
drool onto the floor.  Ginger could have sworn that you could have heard
a pin drop . . . unless you counted the thunder of racing hearts.

Every man was awed, stunned, and slack jawed, as if the very soul had
been sucked out of them. Every guy was breathless, and lost their heart
to the red headed vision of loveliness.  The sheer hypnotic power of
Ginger's sexuality smote the poor frat brethren like a mace to the face. 
The way that she moved, the way that she smiled, and the way that she
smelled set their desire afire.

As one, the turned to Bruce as if to say, "You stinking liar.  How dare you
say that this goddess is bad in bed!"  Bruce could only smile sheepishly,
as he snuck away from the rest of the brothers.  That, in turn caused many
of them to conclude that the great and wonderful Bruce was just too
intimidated to get it up.  The general consensus among the murmurs in the
room was that Bruce was just trying to cover up his own shortcomings. 
In the alternative, he was simply trying to eliminate competition for this
girl's cherished affections.

If that were indeed his intent, it failed miserably!  Slowly but surely,
everyone caught their breath, and began to come to life once more.  All
of the guys competed with one another for Ginger's attention. Ginger just
searched around and through the guys for Bruce.

**********

Just outside the fraternity house lurked the skulking form of Derek.  The
real Ginger, the person currently animating that body, knew that she
shouldn't be here.  This was a closed mixer between sorority and
fraternity, and there was no way that she would be permitted entry.

With her dazzling success on the football field this afternoon, there were
other, better parties where she would be the center of attention.  Girls
would be hanging from her strong arms, begging for her tender affections. 
This was everything that she had wanted from the switch.  She had power
and control over all that she surveyed.

The real Ginger was satisfied that she had indeed been correct about the
consequences of the Cosmic Joke.  Her single minded drive and focus
combined with Derek's body had far surpassed any achievement that he
had ever accomplished.  She had gained the power to directly control and
manipulate the environment to whatever end she desired.  If she could
keep this up, she even believed that she could be selected in the NFL
draft.  In short, she had accurately predicted the outcome of the body
switch!

Yet, here she was lurking in the shadows of the frat house spying on
Derek in her real body?  Why?  The answer, for now, totally escaped her.

The real Ginger had noticed that since the body switch, she didn't think as
fast as she did in her original body.  Perhaps that was cutting with a fine
blade, since technically Derek was only slightly less academically
accomplished as she.  She had naturally assumed that Derek had been
underachieving.  Maybe it was nothing, but still, there was something there
that only a person who once had lightning quick thought processes would
notice.

There was definitely something that she did notice.  The source of their
respective intelligence was radically different.  Although the real Ginger
had never truly realized it before, her original body, or more accurately her
brain, had a photographic memory.  It remember things in exact images,
down to the words on a page.  Derek's brain was based on traditional
intelligence and memory.  For the real Ginger, the effect was similar to a
form of blindness.  Bereft of those images, she felt much less intelligent,
although in reality it wasn't the case.  The real Ginger wondered whether
Derek was now remembering things, particularly her life, in images?

Ginger as Derek eased up to the window to take a peek inside.  The
instant that she saw Derek in her body, dressed as it was, a myriad of
emotions ripped through her new male body.  Certainly, it wasn't the mere
fact that she was dressed so outrageously sexy, or that she was actually
flirting with the many guys that had gathered around her.  She had
predicted this result in her theory of the Cosmic Joke . . . Derek would
make a better woman than she.

What really stunned her was the fact that she had never realized that her
body looked so gorgeous!  The real Ginger had never, ever seen another
woman that was so beautiful or feminine.  Now that she was in a male
body, she could really appreciate it.  In response to her mental attraction,
her manhood started to swell to its full glorious width and length.  It made
it uncomfortable to continue to squat.

Not once did she even gaze at the form of Tiffany standing angrily nearby. 
She paled in comparison, as demonstrated by the paucity of men around
her.  The ones that stayed were . . . unacceptable.

No, the dominant emotion that the real Ginger felt was anger.  Anger at
Derek, and anger at herself.  The anger at Derek was based in the fact
that, no matter how much power and control that she had gained, she still
couldn't control him in her body.  Derek was going to do whatever he
wanted to with her body, including potential posing for Playboy.  When
they first switched, she thought it would be fun to see Derek act as a
woman, and crave sex as a woman.  Now, as she stood there looking
through the window at the female Derek, she realized that she did not. 
The bottom line was that she was jealous of the attention that she was
lavishing on these other guys.  It was almost as if the real Ginger expected
Derek to wait around in her old room by the phone, desperately waiting
for her call, while she cavorted with the likes of Tiffany.

Derek was ruining her reputation!

The other source of that dire emotion, was anger at herself.  It was just
starting to seep into her testosterone soaked brain that the power and
control that she had gained was nothing.  With this male body it was easier
than it had been for her before.  However, she never knew that it was so
much work to attend to every detail, just to make things come out as you
wanted the to.  It was damned hard work!  Derek had discovered a way
to make others work for him while he was in her body.  All he had to do
was gesture, or bat an eye, and guys were climbing all over themselves to
do whatever he wanted.  All he had to do was asked, and it was given. 
All of that power had been hers to use, yet she never even knew that it
was there.  The real Ginger had been so busy defining herself in terms of
men, and trying to fit into their world using their own methods that she
never even knew what it was that she had.

There was no wonder she wanted a male body.  It was the way that she
had chosen to define herself, and it was wrong.  For somebody who was
supposed to be very smart and insightful . . . the real Ginger had been
pretty stupid!

It's a funny thing emotion.  It is defined by the circumstances in which you
find yourself.  Love in the right set of circumstances can easily be turned
into hate.  And so it was, the love that the real Ginger had felt for Derek
simmered into loathing.  With each passing second, she came to think of
Derek as a body thief . . . somebody who had stolen what she never knew
she had.

What she should have done was conceded the bet, and gave Derek back
his body.  However, with strong emotions fueled by a copious amount of
hormones, reason goes right out the window.  All she wanted right now
was a confrontation with her alter ego.  She had to get into that fraternity!

**********

Ginger was starting to grow a little restless.  The attention of all of the guys
that had surrounded her and Carol was flattering, although she could sense
Carol's growing boredom.  All of the attention seemed to be centered on
her, rather than her roommate.  Ginger's first inclination was to just walk
away, locate Bruce, and get on to the matter at hand.

One glimpse of a smoldering Tiffany in the corner persuaded her
otherwise.  Ginger could not resist the chance at a little payback to the
tramp who further the rift between her and the real Ginger.  Oh,  revenge
was going to be so sweet!

Ginger started to flirt back with all of the guys that were around her in
Carol.  Carol, in turn just looked on, wide-eyed.  It was the old, "Have I
created a monster?" look, because she literally held the entire room of men
in thrall.

Ginger sensed this also, and began to play with it.  She had heard what
Sari said this afternoon, and even believed the simple truth of it.  Hearing
is one matter, while seeing it in action was completely another.  She tilted
her hips ever so slightly, thrusting her spectacular breasts out farther.  Just
one touch of her hand on one of the guys, made that guy positively melt. 
She wondered if there were even intelligent thoughts running through their
heads right now?  Ginger asked a question to determine if there
were.

"I'm thirsty.  Do you guys have anything to drink in here?" she said in a
voice dripping in sweetness and innocence.

25-30 guys were instantly tripping and falling all over themselves to cater
to this lovely red head.  One of them even managed to get out a coherent
sentence, rather than a stream of grunts or other non verbal noises.  It was
amazing to Ginger that a pretty face and appealing body had the power to
divest men of the ability to speak.  She had experienced it many times as
Derek, but being on the other side of the fence was quite the experience.

The lone verbal frat brother asked, "W-what do you want t-to drink
G-ginger?"

That was a good question.  She was dying for a beer, but knew from
experience that Ginger hated the taste of beer.  Thus, ordering that
beverage would no doubt raise a few eyebrows.  Ginger imagined that
since she now wore the real Ginger's body, she probably had her taste in
food and beverage as well.  What was it that Ginger drank . . . that is
when she drank.  She never was much of a drinker.

"Could you get me a glass of white wine, please . . . uh . . . I don't know
your name."

"I-it's Eric, Ginger," the brother gulped, simultaneously excited and
frightened that Ginger had singled him out.

Ginger lightly touched his arm, but it was enough to send a shiver of thrill
up and down his spine.

"Thank you for getting me a drink, Eric," she whispered.

As Eric walked away, Carol just shook her head.  "Ginger?  Are y'all sure
you have never done this before?  You are doing thing that neither I, nor
Sari taught you.  You are too much of a natural tease that I'm surprised
that you haven't discovered the talent before."

Ginger spoke the truth before even having a chance to think about it,
"I-I'm just doing what feels . . . natural."

"Well keep it up.  At this rate, you'll have both Bruce and Derek at your
feet in no time.  If I were you, I'd dump Derek for Bruce.  Bruce is much
more of a catch."

The mention of the name Derek, prompted Ginger to look over at Tiffany. 
Only one geeky guy remained to keep her company.  The rest were either
with their steady boyfriends, or in Ginger and Carol's group.  More and
more of the other sisters had joined Carol and Ginger, sensing where all
of the boys were.  Now Tiffany truly was an outsider, and it showed.  Her
eyes glowered at Ginger.

Ginger, for her part, simply beamed at Tiffany in triumph.

While small talk continued in their growing group, Eric returned with
Ginger's glass of wine.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry G-ginger.  A-all they had w-was Pinot Grigio," explained
the poor, nervous guy.  Ginger took pity on the boy, since she could well
understand his predicament.  Although pretty women had never made her
THIS anxious when she was Derek, she had still gotten nervous just the
same.

Therefore, when she took the glass of wine from his hand. Ginger took his
other hand into hers.  She pulled him to her, allowing the ends of her
breasts to brush his arms, and then kissing him on the cheek.  She knew
that Eric was close enough that he could smell the perfume that Carol
instructed her to place on her neck, between her breasts, and on her inner
thighs.

Before letting him go, she whispered in his ear, "Thank you, Eric.  You
don't have to be so nervous around me, you know.  I'm just a person like
you.  You are very handsome, and shouldn't have to be nervous around
any woman."

"T-thanks, Ginger," the man said sincerely.

That made Ginger feel good about herself.  Although she had no intention
of making it with Eric, there was no reason to hurt his feelings.  If she
could make him feel good about himself as a bonus . . . well all the better. 
All of the power she was now just beginning to grasp was nothing if it
wasn't tempered with a little responsibility and grace!

However, her self-congratulations was short circuited by that familiar
sensation of tingling and warmth on her chest.  The brush of Ginger's
breasts up against Eric's arm had done more to her than it had to him. 
That, coupled with the effect of the wine on an empty stomach, had a
decidedly noticeable physical reaction on her nipples.

Ginger looked down to see the twin points swelling underneath the sheer
lycra of her dress.  This was a sight which did not go unnoticed by the
male population in the room!

Suddenly, she saw every man's gaze lower, even more than it was before,
to her chest.  It was like Ginger could literally feel a hundred points of light
from their eyes burning into her being.  She could even feel the weight of
those eyes on her from behind.  She took another sip from her rapidly
emptying glass of wine to brace herself.

Unfortunately, the body's lack of tolerance for alcohol, plus the empty
stomach betrayed Ginger.  The wine went right to her head, making her
wobble ever so slightly on the heels.  That wobble in turn sent her boobs
to jiggling in a most delicious manner.  At least it was delicious to the guys
who were no circling like a school of sharks.  Ginger put her hand on
Eric's shoulder to steady herself.

Still, she could feel the multitude of eyes drinking in her body's curves, as
enhanced by the damned dress.  The thought of so many men looking at
her . . . wanting her, just made Ginger's big nipples enlarge all the more. 
She closed her eyes in an effort to block out the thoughts that were
making her new body react as it was. However, her mind's eye were
greeted by the images of a rather graphic, alcohol induced fugue state.

Ginger suddenly imagined herself in a room, naked, with all of the frat
brothers.  They were also naked!  That was in reality how she felt right
now . . . naked before all of these men.  Except . . . she was running her
hands all over their body, and they all over hers.  Her fugue merged with
the images from Sari's afternoon lessons, and she . . . she . . . was taking
their penises, their beautiful penises into her hands.

A familiar warmth in Ginger's nether regions snapped her out of it.  That
an insistent aching from the points on her chest.  Ginger looked down to
see her nipples standing a full attention.

Carol whispered in Ginger's ear, "Sugar?  Y'all better get out of here
before y'all get a wet spot in the front of your dress.  You are about as
horny as your ever gonna get right now, so you better not waste it.  You
go and find Bruce, and take care of your business.  I imagine that you've
had enough fun here for a while, and showed Tiffany a thing or two.  We
can take care of the boys just fine.  You go now . . . and remember
everything that Sari and I taught you!"

Ginger realized that Carol was absolutely correct.  The  wine and the
flirting had turned her on more than she cared to imagine, and she hoped
the momentum was enough to carry her through with what she again had
to do with Bruce.  She would have to make love to a man.  She couldn't
just lay there this time, but would actually have to make love to HIM!  She
recalled how wonderful it had felt last night, as well as Sari's assurances
that it would be ten times better. 

With that thought, Ginger relaxed.  She wasn't anxious anymore, but . . .
expectant.  She was looking forward to this.

Ginger glanced in and around the room for Bruce, darting her head this
way and that between the gaps of the group.  Bruce was no where to be
found, but she espied something a lot more interesting.  It was almost to
quick for the eye to see.  It was there nevertheless.  Ginger had caught the
real Ginger in her body staring at her from the window!

Oh, the real Ginger yanked her head down right away to avoid detection,
but didn't quite make it!

Now it dawned on Ginger that her other had seen the entire thing.  From
the look she had caught on her own face . . . the real Ginger was insanely
jealous right now.  Carol's plan was working to perfection!  Now that the
wheels had been set into motion, there was no way to stop them, and the
real Ginger would soon make her way into the fraternity.

Ginger's slightly tipsy mind told her there was only one thing left to do. 
She had to administer the coup de grace . . . the real Ginger had to find
her in Bruce's arms.

**********

It didn't take long for Ginger to find Bruce, even in her state.  He was in
a small room, just off of the main room where she had been with the rest. 
The room was dark, except for slants of light coming in from the partially
closed slats on the door that led into the main room.  Ginger saw him there
just . . . looking through those slats.  Ginger followed Bruce's eyes to the
slats of the door.

She was just a little stunned to see that the positioning of the slats had
afforded him the ability to watch he room, without himself being detected. 
Ginger knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bruce had been watching
her this entire time.

Ginger moved toward the substantially bigger man, attempting to reach up
to touch his shoulder.  It was a sincere gesture for her performance
cloaking him with the appearance of being a liar.  He pulled his shoulder
away to avoid the touch.

Bruce was hurt, very hurt, by all of this, and it showed.

Ginger took one step back, in order to allow Bruce some breathing room. 
She knew that this was going to require some work to soothe his bruised
ego, and time was not exactly on her side.

"I've been looking for you . . . Bruce," she whispered softly in the dark.

"Yeah?  I saw how hard you were looking."

"Them?  They were just boys, Bruce.  You are a man . . . a REAL man. 
I just wanted to make you . . . you know . . . a little jealous."

There was hurt, and anger in Bruce's voice.  "What you did was made me
seem like a liar.  None of my brothers will ever believe me again."

Ginger was loathe to point out, "You wouldn't have been made out to be
a liar if you hadn't told them about me.  I though that you were more of a
gentleman than that."

That made Bruce silent for a moment.  However, they both know that
there was no way that a fraternity brother could be expected to keep quite
a bout a girl.  That was especially true of a girl as beautiful as Ginger.

Finally, Bruce spoke again.  Ginger stood perfectly still in the darkness,
her heart beating like a bongo drum.  The thick tension in the air only
added to her heightened state of sexual arousal.  She really wanted this
man now.

"It was the truth.  You were horrible in bed!  You are very beautiful,
maybe the most beautiful girl that I've ever seen.   You just lay there in bed
like a dead fish, and well . . . it wasn't much of a turn on.  I just didn't want
to see you tonight, and now . . . this."

There it was.  Ginger couldn't exactly say that his thoughts were
unexpected.  Therefore, she used the only excuse that she could.

"You have to understand, Bruce.  I jut broke up with Derek.  I thought
that I was over him, and could go through with it.  I couldn't, okay.  For
that I am truly sorry."  Ginger poured it now, "It's just that . . . you were
such a great lover, and I was so . . . so . . . nervous.  Can't you forgive
me?  Can't you give me a another chance?  I'll show you that last night
wasn't me. At least not the real me."

"And you think you are ready now?" inquired Bruce sarcastically from a
step away.  Ginger could just imagine his eyes burning in anger.

Nevertheless this was her best chance.  Ginger crossed the room, and
now stood inches from him.  She could smell him, his erotic mixture of
cologne and maleness, and it effected her biology as she knew it would. 
She didn't care.  She reached up with one small, manicured hand to
massage his chest.

"Won't you let me show you, Bruce?" Ginger whispered again softly.

Bruce stood unmoving, refusing to show any emotion, one way or another. 
He was as stolid as a statue.  Undaunted, Ginger ran the palm of her hand
up the chest of her companion, up the side of his neck to his cheek, and
finally to the back of his head.  She intentionally, but lightly scratched his
scalp as she ran her long fingernails through his hair.  Gently, she pulled his
down so that his lips could meet hers.

Ginger kissed Bruce this time, taking the lead.  Her kiss at first was soft,
wanting, but then she made it more urgent.  In fact, her whole body was
screaming for his touch!  Ginger tried to part her lips slightly, to encourage
him to do the same, but he still stood stubbornly unyielding.

Therefore Ginger pressed her body into his.  Although Bruce's outward
demeanor demonstrated an unfeeling demeanor, his hormones had
something different to say.  His manhood was in the midst of a growing
erection in response to Ginger's attention.  Ginger just went with it.

Deftly reaching between Bruce and herself, she touched his erection
through his loose pants.  She was slightly shocked to find that it felt good
in her hand!  The image of her fugue just minutes earlier, again flashed
through her mind, and, in an imitation of that scene, began to stroke the
erection up and down.  She truly wanted to encourage it to new lengths
and widths.

Ginger wanted to pull Bruce tighter to her lips with her free hand, but
unfortunately had another immediate use for it.  She would have to risk
that the softness of her lips would be enough to hold his.  As she reached
down to take one of his hands into her free one, she renewed her light
kisses.  She lifted his hand to place it on her breast . . . indicating her
intention . . . and need!

That done she, again, ran her fingers through his hair.  This time, when
Ginger open her lips, Bruce did so as well.  Their tongues touched,
tentatively at first, but then more tenderly.  Ginger was careful not to allow
his tongue to get close enough to detect the gold stud.

Finally, when the parted, Ginger realized that she had been standing on her
toes to reach the height of Bruce's lips.

"Do you want to go to your room, Bruce?"

There was a hesitation, prompting further inquiry from Ginger.  "What's
wrong, Bruce?"

"I'm still not convinced that this is such a good thing.  I-I'm really attracted
to you, I admit.  I just couldn't stand a repeat of last night.  I really don't
want to hurt your feelings."

"Haven't I shown you how I feel.  Last night wasn't me . . . what more can
I do to show you?"

There was another hesitation.

"What?" whispered Ginger.

"You could show me that you are sincere if you love me with your mouth
. . . ."

"You mean . . . ?" Ginger trailed off, knowing exactly what he meant.  It
was the one thing that she had sworn that she would never do.

"I wouldn't blame you if you do not want to.  Many women don't like that,
but it's something that I like a lot.  You could show me that you really
mean what you say by pleasing me that way."

There it was!  It all came down to one act, and time was running out.  As
a matter of fact, she even imagined that she could hear the real Ginger's
footsteps approaching.  In truth, now that Ginger was faced with the
reality of the circumstances, she though that she would be repulsed.  She
thought that she would be sick.

Strangely enough . . . she wasn't.  The thought of taking him into her soft
warm mouth was suddenly, and quite unexpectedly . . . exciting.  Why
shouldn't I, mused Ginger?  The influence of the wine that she drank was
just enough to lower her inhibitions enough to entertain the idea.  Why
shouldn't I experience something that many women like to do?

She couldn't find any plausible reason not to.  If the real Ginger could be
convinced to give her back her true male body, this would be the one and
only time that she would ever have to experience this form of human
sexuality.

Ginger had to admit that curiosity, as well as hormones were getting the
better of her.  Those hormones caused a growing wet spot in the lower,
front part of Ginger's dress.

The decision made, Ginger whispered, barely audible, "Here?  So close
to the main room?"

"Sure," replied Bruce.  The whole tone of his voice had changed when he
realized that Ginger would do as he asked.  "It is secluded here.  Nobody
knows where we are, and we will be safe.  Besides, being this close to the
others will make it more exciting.  There's the danger of being caught."

It's funny how the heat of passion can effect the normal workings of a
normally rational mind.  Ginger dropped to her knees, directly in front of
Bruce' crotch.  She looked up, way up into Bruce's eyes, which glowed
with passionate lust.  Sari's words came back to her, how this was the
most important way of pleasing a man.  It was this from which a woman
could derive real power.

Now Ginger knew just how true those words were!  If the passion and
desire in Bruce's eyes, or for that matter, any man's eyes, could be
harnessed . . . controlled, they would walk the ends of the earth for them. 
It was a fact that he appreciated in its full magnitude as she slowly
unzipped Bruce's fly.

A button snap later, and a tug of his briefs downward, had the large
erection exposed and isolated.  Ginger took the rigid organ into her tiny
hand, marveling at it's warmth and hardness.  Was her soft flesh ever this
hard?  It was getting so hard to remember anymore, and for that matter,
think altogether.  By contrast, it was much easier to surrender to that flesh.

Surrender she did!

Slowly, Ginger started to stroke Bruce's manhood with her hand.  With
the long fingernail of her thumbnail, she traced the underside of the head
of the penis.  Ginger heard a groan of pleasure above her, and it made her
glance upward.  She saw Bruce close his eyes, enjoying even the feel of
it, and arching his bed back.  His  reaction to her ministrations made
Ginger smile.

So much power within the palm of her hand, the wetness of her mouth.

Bruce's aroused mental state had produced a bead of pre-cum on the tip
of his cock.  It sat there like a small pearl.  How would it taste, Ginger
wondered?  Will it taste . . . good?

Curiosity got the better of the girl.  She stuck out her tongue to pluck off
the liquid pearl, the gold stud catching one of the slants of light from the
slats.

It was salty, and not unpleasant at all.  It had the consistency of yogurt. 
Ginger took the pearl into her mouth, mixing it with her saliva, and savored
its full musky flavor.  It wasn't bad at all.  Of course, her body found it to
be quite vital, and released a torrent of feminine hormones into her blood
stream.  And, urged by the new influx of hormones into her system, she
began to stroke Bruce harder and longer.

"You got your tongue pierced?" questioned Bruce.

Ginger looked up once again to see Bruce gazing down at her.  Sari had
instructed her on the effect of sexual flattery . . . the other use of the mouth
during erotic adventures.  Therefore she smiled, saying, "Yes.  I did it for
you . . . for this!"

Bruce caressed her cheek from his superior vantage point.  "Show me,
Ginger.  Show me!"

**********

Tiffany was the first to see the person that she thought to be Derek.  She
grinned from ear to ear, naturally assuming that he had crashed the mixer
to be with her.  She was wrong, of course, and for the barest of instant
thought that her horrible night was picking up.

That grin turned upside down into a frown, when the real Ginger rushed
right by her.  It was if she wasn't even there.

"Derek?  Derek?" she called after him, to no avail.  The man just ignored
her, continuing his journey straight to the second person who noticed his
presence.

"Where is she, Carol.  Tell me!" the real Ginger demanded of her former
roommate.

Carol turned to the person who she thought to be Derek.  She addressed
him non-chalantly.

"Who, Derek?  Who are you looking for?"

"You know very well who I'm looking for, Carol.  Now tell me where
Ginger is or else . . . ."

"Or what?" an indignant Carol retorted.  "One word from me and these
brothers are gonna throw your ass out on the street.  I don't care if you
did win the game today, you are not at the top of my list.  You hurt my
roommate, and my friend."

"Just tell me where she is."

"Not that you can do anything about it, but I would imagine that she's
wrapped up in Bruce's arms for awhile.  I haven't seen her in a while."

"WHAT!" Ginger in Derek roared, and then started out looking for her
other. She wasn't subtle about it.

The stunned brothers and sisters of the Greek system followed the frantic
man on his room by room search.

**********

Both Ginger and Bruce ignored the tumult that was going on just beyond
the door in the main room.  They were . . . busy!

She let the head of Bruce's penis slide between her wetted lips into her
mouth.  She was surprised at how warm and hard that it was in her mouth. 
Again, it wasn't all that . . . unpleasant.  While keeping the head in her
mouth, Ginger swirled her tongue on the very tip.

"Ohhhh,' moaned Bruce, again closing his eyes.  He continued to caress
Ginger's head to encourage her.

Encourage her it did.  She let the cock slip wetly out of her mouth, only to
lick it from the underside of the base near the scrotum up to the tip again. 
Ginger was careful to let the metal of the gold stud rub along the underside
as she licked.  That produced an immediate reaching from Bruce.

He shivered in pure pleasure.

When Ginger got to the head of the penis, she returned it to the wetness
of her mouth.  Rather than being satisfied with just the head, she decided
to take a little more, and could feel it tickle the back of her throat.  Ginger
had to concentrate to suppress the gag reflex.

She recalled something that she had used while chugging a beer.  If you
swallowed, you were doomed.  The trick was to open the back of your
throat and pour it down.  That technique served her well here! With each
successive down stroke of her bobbing head, Ginger took more and more
into her throat.

Soon, she was taking the entire length in and out of her mouth.  She let his
rigidity slide between her lips, along the tip of her tongue, and down her
throat.  Now, as per Sari's instruction, Ginger added the last element. 
With each down stroke, she pressed her stud into the underside of the
ever stiffening cock.

Now it was Ginger who was getting really turned on, and he felt so very
warm inside.  Why didn't every woman like this, she thought.  God, they
don't know what they are missing!  This I sooooo nice.

Unfortunately, it came out of her occupied mouth as, "Mmmmmmmmm." 
It was the same noise made when one tastes an incredible delicacy.

And so it went, until the door to that lead to the main room suddenly
opened, bathing both Ginger and Bruce in light.  Ginger was undeterred
by the light, and continued to go down on the man.  It wasn't till Bruce
stopped caressing her head, and she heard the loud gasps behind her, that
Ginger knew that something was amiss.

She stopped, drawing Bruce's cock out of her mouth with a slight wet
slurp.  She did so in such a fashion as to shield the exposed member from
the view of the people she now knew were behind her.  She stood up, still
shielding Bruce's exposure.  However, she herself could not turn around,
as she sensed that the front of her dress was now adorned by a substantial
wet spot!  So instead, she just hugged Bruce from the front.

Ginger looked over her shoulder to see all of the fraternity brothers, and
her sorority sisters.  There was one other . . . the real Ginger.  She wore
a rictus of intense jealousy upon her face.  Tiffany smiled evilly.

"Would you all mind?" said Bruce calmly.  He hugged Ginger protectively
to him, fueling the real Ginger's jealousy even more. 

THAT made Ginger smile.

The others retreated from the room, and pulled the door behind them. 
Once again, the two lovers were emersed in almost total darkness . . . and
silence.

Bruce broke the silence with just one word, "Oops!"

That made Ginger laugh.  That made Bruce laugh.  The laughed together
within their protective embrace.  He looked lovingly at Ginger, speaking
one more time.

"Do you want to go up to my room, Ginger?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry if I got you into trouble.  I know how Janine is."

"I'll worry about it tomorrow," she cooed.  Hopefully tomorrow she would
be back into her real body because the real Ginger was jealous enough. 
She might as well build stoke that emotion even further.

Besides . . . her body, at this point would not allow her to say no.

**********
(to be continued)