Hiya folks:

a while back, Caleb and I thought about creatiing a competitor to the Spells r'
Us stores, who would open up their own store right across the mall from 
them. I guess that you could call this story the first entry into that sub-
universe. It's called Ye Olde Body Shoppe (YOBS for short).  We thought that 
the close proximity of thse shoppes would tweek the old wizard conceived by 
Bill Hart, driving him to further acts of madness.

Additionally, I wanted to try an experimant.  A transformation story without a
lot of physical description.  I wanted to tell it in dialogue to get the mind
of the reader working, and imagine what it would be like.  I'm not quite sure
if it works or not.

Lastly, the story is dedicated to all of those people who bitched and
complained in a reacent thread about so many bimbos in TG stories.  Oh, your
gonna hate this one.  It contains a bimbo that only Eddie Glover could love!

Verbal Exchanges at the Body Exchange
by Raven

"Name?" asked the professionally dressed, middle-aged woman from
behind her desk.

"Bill," replied the man who was seated across the other side of the desk. 
He was still quite nervous about all of this, despite the pleasant demeanor
of the office personnel.

"Your last name, sir?" prompted the lady, a little annoyed by the
incompleteness of the response.

"Oh.  I'm sorry.  I'm sort of distracted . . . you know?  It's Evans. 
William Evans."

"Mr. Evans.  There is no reason to be nervous," the woman tried to allay
his anxiety.  "We here at Ye Olde Body Shoppe have been doing
successful mind swaps for years.  We're really quite good, you know? 
We haven't had any transmigration accidents for many years now.  You 
really don't have to worry."

"Oh . . . okay."  However, Bill didn't feel any better than he did before.

"Fine.  What's your current occupation Mr. Evans.?"

"W-why is that important?"

"We are building a profile on you.  After all, somebody is going to be
eventually getting your body and your life.  We have to be able to tell them
what they would be getting."

"You mean I can't return back to my own life after the switch?"

The woman behind the desk got a stern expression upon her face. 
"Absolutely not! That's one of the rules here.  It's more than just a minor
body exchange.  What we do is an entire life exchange.  At the conclusion
of this interview, you will have to sign an agreement that you will never
contact your old body, unless by mutual agreement with the person who
now has your life. Violation of this agreement will be met with the most
dire of consequences.  If you violate the agreement, it gives us consent to 
harvest your new body at will, for whatever purpose that YOBS deems 
appropriate, and transfer you to another body of our choosing.  Sometimes 
those new bodies or lives are not pleasant.  We do expect all of our 
customers to abide by the agreement.   If you need to review the terms,
I can get you a copy of the paperwork you will be signing."

For a second, Bill reconsidered his decision to have a body exchange.  In
the end, his desire to have a different body outweighed the life that he
would be giving up.

"No, thats all right.  I'm CEO and Chairman of the Board of Evans, Ltd."

The woman's face brightened with recognition.  "I know that company. 
You do those commercials . . ."

"Yes.  That's me," confirmed Bill. The idea of giving up his sizable fortune,
along with all of the advantages which it represented was a difficult one to
consider.  However, if ever there was anything he truly wanted, and on which 
he wanted to spend his money, no matter what the cost, this was it.

Bill and the customer representative of Ye Olde Body Shoppe continued
on with the interview for the next hour.  She carefully chronicalled every
aspect of Bill's life for his portfolio.  That included his intelligence
quotient, which was substantial, since he was a member of Mensa.  After all 
was said and done, the customer representative had but one more question.

"So Mr. Evans.  What is it that you wish to be?"

"A . . . woman," Bill hesitated.

The customer representative didn't even bat an eye.  She simply filled in
the appropriate space on her questionarre.

"Wait a minute.  Don't you think that is an unusual request for someone
like me?"

"Not at all sir.  Gender exchanges are our most popular request.  You
wouldn't believe some of the requests that I've seen.  Some are from well
known celebrities."

"Really?  Who?"

"Oh, I'm afraid that I can't disclose that.  Confidentiality you know."

"I don't understand.  Why all of the secrecy and agreements?"

"The technology which performs the switch is not yet widely known. Once it
becomes known, our founder's monopoly, and his abilty to earn a living
from his discovery will be gone.  This is the only way to preserve that
monopoly.  Even the employees must sign a confidentiality agreement. 
Like the one you will sign, a breach of my agreement means that I or my 
fellow employees can be placed in any body that they choose for us."

"Now what happens?" queried Bill.

"You'll go out to the lobby, and wait your turn.  From here on in, it is
much like a dating service.  You will look at the profiles of women who
want to become men.  You will select the profiles that you like, and then
we will contact those ladies.  We will then give them your profile to
review.  If any of them agree, the switch is made.  It's really quite simple!"

"I see," replied Bill.  It sounded so easy.

The woman slid a paper across the desk, along with a pen.  "Are you
ready to sign the agreement, Sir?"

"May I ask you one more question before I sign?"

"Sure.  Go ahead," indicated the customer representaive, glancing at her
watch.  It was getting late, and she wanted to get another interview in
before quitting time.

"How does it work, the switch I mean?"

"Understand, I am not a technician by any stretch of the imagination. 
However, as it was explained to me, there are two components that make
up a person's essence.  The first part is like a soul.  It is all memory and 
experience that is not linked to anything physical.  It's pure thought, if you
will.  The other is the chemical based memory that is locked in the brains 
neurons.  The machine that we use removes the former from the old body and 
moves it into the new body with its original chemical memories.  Now as I 
understand it, most physical memories like language, reflexes, physical 
abilities  and some basic knowledge and instincts, etc. are all chemical, 
transmitted by neurotransmitters.  So . . . "

Bill finished her thought, "When the one part goes into the new body, it
gets all of that body's memories, knowledge, skill . . ."

Now it was the customer representative's turn to interject, as she was
running short of time, "Something like that.  Do you wish to sign the
contract Mr. Evans.  I do have other customers waiting outside."

Bill picked up the pen, his hand shaking violently.  He was giving up so
much.  Yet, it was something that he vowed, in his heart of hearts, to give
up everything for, had he ever had been given the chance.  Now chance was 
looking him right in the eye.

Bill's shaking hand signed the document.

"Very good sir.  Now if you would just step into the waiting room, one of
our inventory persons will be with you shortly."

With that the customer representative showed Bill back into the plush
waiting room.

**********

Bill was not in the waitng room for very long, when he was joined by a
very beautiful woman.  She looked directly at him.

"Mr. Evans?"

"Yes?" answered Bill.

"Hi.  My name is Miranda.  I'm your guide to the gallery room.  Could
you please follow me, Sir?"

Bill got up from his seat on the plush couch to follow the attractive woman. 
Bill guessed that she was about 5'6" and 120 lbs.  She had dark, shoulder
length hair, that had a slight wave to it.  Her body was shapely and
slender, both the breasts and behind had the right amount of bounce!

Miranda moved with a fluid, feminine grace, the likes of which Bill had
rarely seen.  He put her age somewhere between 25 and 29 years of age.

Shortly, they were both in a room that was filled with three ring binders. 
Each binder contained portfolios of other clients, including pictures, much
like the one he had completed earlier.  Miranda looked at Bill's sheet to
determine the type of portfolios which Bill should be looking at.

"Oh.  I see you've chosen to become a woman.  Very good.  You won't
regret it, I guarantee.  I went through it myself!"

"Y-you were a man?" stuttered Bill.

"Yes.  In fact, I was a professional football player.  I was an offensive
lineman to be specific, and I would wager that if I told you my former
name you would recognize me.  I just got tired of pretending to be what
I wasn't.  Then I found out about Ye Olde Body Shoppe.  I was lucky
enough to work out a trade with Miranda.  Even though she had nothing,
no education, no money, I gave up everything I had and was to become her.  
I've never regretted it.  The Shoppe hired me on here a few months after 
the switch."

"It's amazing. You're . . . so . . . so . . . feminine!" gasped Bill.

"That's all part of the process.  When I woke up I knew everything I needed 
to run this body.   It was like I had occupied it all my life.   Even though I
gave up my life, and all of that money, it was worth it.  I am far happier as a
woman, especially a pretty woman.  I would NEVER go back to being a man.  
It's so much more fun being a girl."

Bill didn't need any more testimonial than what he just heard.  "What
now?" he asked excitedly.  For the first time, he was starting to think that
he made the right decision by signing the agreement.

She gesture to a bookshelf of binders.  "Here are all the profiles of the
women who want to become men.  They are categorized by age and race. 
For instance if you wanted to be a young black girl, you would look in this
binder," Miranda instructed by touching a binder.  "If you wanted to be
a older chinese woman, you would look in this binder . . ." she touched
still another binder.

" . . . . look in the binders and pick out the girl or woman you would like
to trade lives with.  We will take it from there.  Just a word of warning. 
Male to female trades are our most popular exchange.  It is followed
closely by average or homely female to attractive female exchanges and 
younger bodies for older ones of all types.  As a result, an attractive young 
woman's body is hard to come by.  I got lucky.   I was probably the first to 
see her profile.   There are plenty of average to below average women in
there, though,  if you don't mind that.  Just look through the binders, and you 
can decide."

Miranda's last statement made Bill's heart sink a little bit.  He did have his
heart set on becoming a young attractive woman.  However, he decided
to examine the binders anyway.  Perhaps he would be able to locate a girl
that everybody else missed.  After all, one man's trash is another man's
treasure, thought Bill.

Bill spent the better part of an hour pouring through the binders.  He was
not prejudicial, and considered becoming a black woman, an oriental
woman, an hispanic woman, and even a native american woman. 
Unfortunately, Miranda's assessment of the current portfolios was right on
the nose.  The women were either too old, too homely, or had other
miscellaneous problems such as poverty, disease, criminals records, bad
or abusive relationships, and other bad situations.  None of the portfolios
appealed to Bill.

Miranda returned later to find a very dejected Bill.  "Did you find anything
that you liked?"

"No.  Nothing!"

"That's okay.  These thing can take time you know.  The thing to do is
come by periodically to check out the new additions to the portfolios. 
If anything new comes in that we think would be a good match for you,
we will call you.  Also, if any woman picks your portfolio, we'll give you
a call to see if you would want to exchange with her.  

"Oh," was all that Bill could respond, under his breath.

"That could very easily happen, Bill.   You seem in good health and
judging by your clothes, you are probably well off, financially.   Those are
prime considerations of the women who want to become males.  Cheer
up.  You'll find someone.  It'll be worth it in the end, you'll see."

Bill stood up, taking her hand into his to shake it.  "I want to thank you for
everything Miranda.  I envy you.  You're so pretty, and I would give
anything to be you."

"Just have faith Mr. Evans.  It'll all work out, I just know it will."

Miranda showed Bill to the door that lead from the gallery back into the
waiting room.  Bill opened the door to step into the lobby.  No sooner did
he close the door than he became aware of another person in the waiting
room.  All his he had to do was follow the scent of a powerful feminine
perfume, the sound of someone cracking their chewing gum, and softly
giggling.

What Bill saw almost made his eyes bug out of his head.  There seated on
the leather couch was an erotic cartoon of a woman.  His eyes were
immediately drawn to her chest, which was mammoth!  She was at least
an 80 bustline, and a cup size of HH or HHH.  The very sight of her made
Bill grow very hard down in his nether regions.

As hard as it was to peel his eyes away from those fabulous tits, he forced
himself to survey the rest of her body.  It was just as magnificent, being
slender, and outrageously shapely.   To top it all off, the girl had the face
of an angel.  Her shoulder length, platinum blonde hair, was styled very
similar to the sexiest woman that ever lived . . . Marilyn Monroe.  In fact,
when Bill looked closer, she even had a beauty mark near her lip, like
Marilyn herself.

The girl hadn't noticed Bill enter.  She was just sitting there contentedly
chewing her gum, and giggling to herself.

"Hello?" said Bill, to annoounce his presence in the room.

The girl startled in surprise before giggling again, "Tee hee!"  She added,
"Hiya . . . cutie."

"What are you laughing at?"

"Oh that?  Nothin'.  I always laugh to myself.  People say it's because I
ain't too bright.  Tee hee!"

Bill could see that now.  This girl was the very embodiment of a dumb
blonde.  Bill couldn't resist asking, and it just blurted out before he could
stop himself.

"Are those things real?"  He was pointing at her gigantic breasts.

She giggled yet one more time.  Bill thought that the girl must have been
born giddy.

"My titties?  Nah'.  I had  em done by a plastic surgeon a whiles back. 
I make more money that way."  The girl voice was soft and breathy, again,
not unlike Marilyn Monroe, herelf.

"What do you do for a living, if you don't mind me asking?" queried Bill,
although he had a pretty good idea what her line of work was."

"I'm a stripper!" she chirped, cracking her gum happily.

Bill stuck out his hand to hers in greeting.  "Hello.  I'm Bill."

"Tee hee.  I'm Candy.  I changed my name to Candy Monroe.  In my act
I say that I'm the daughter of Marilyn Monroe."

"How old are you Candy?"

"19."

Bill thought about explaining to her that she couldn't possibly be the
daughter of Marilyn Monroe since she would have died before Candy was
even born.  However, he looked at her, and decided it was better off
leaving well enough alone.  There was no way that she would understand
anyway, and it undoubtably was working for her in any case.

He did notice that Candy was very well dressed.  Bill's powers of
observation told him that she must make a lot of money with her face and
body.  An idea was starting to form in his head.  He thought that he would
throw out a trial balloon, just to see if it floated.  After all, the fee for
the exchange process was very expensive.

He sat down next to Candy to ask her, "So Candy?  Are you waiting for
your boyfriend, or why are you here?"

"Tee hee.  I'm here for a body exchange, Silly Billy."

Bullseye!  Bill's erection began to grow.  Hoping against hope, he asked
her, "Who do you want to be exchanged with?"

Poor Bill's heart almost leapt out of his chest when she answered, all
giggly, "I wanna be changed into a man . . . a rich, smart man."

Bill was stammering now, "W-why?"

"I'm just tired a bein' treated like a brainless blonde.  People treat me like
a child, especially my boyfriend.  Tom Simon.   Ever heard of  em?"

Bill did.  He was another business man who was wealthy, although
nowhere in the class of Bill.  Their paths had never really crossed.  Bill
nodded his head slowly.

Candy continued, in her childlike way.  "I just wanna be a man like that
so I can show Tommy that I'm better than him.  I wanna be able to do
what he does, and talk to people like he does.  The lady here said that I
would have a hard time getting a man like that to exchange with me!"

"Did she say why, Candy?"

"Yeah.  She said the guy who becomes me will be just as dumb and
empty headed as I am now. She said that no man would wanna lug my
boobs around, or attract men like I do."

Bill excitedly blurted out the first thought that came into his head.  "Would
you exchange with me Candy?"

A huge, dazzling smile spread across Candy's face.  "Ya mean it?  Are
you rich?"

"Much more than Tom.  I own my own business," Bill confirmed.

"And you smart, too?"

"A certified genius level IQ!"

"Wow!  You wouldn't mind becoming dumb like me?"

Bill hadn't thought about the particular aspect until this very second.  If he
exchanged with her, he would be just as dim witted as she was.  Could he
pay that price to be a pretty girl . . . lose virtually all of his god given
intelligence.  He was literally quivering.  The beauty of this girl was so
mind numbing.

God help him, the answer was, "Y-yes."

"And you don't mind having these big tits or bein' a stripper?   I get PMS
every month, you know."

Bill was too far gone now.  He was so close the realization of his fantasy
that he would have probably have agreed to almost anything.  The only
thing that was important was that he would be young, pretty, female, and
have a good income.  Nothing else seemed to matter, and . . . well . . . if
he had to be a girl, he might as well be one all of the way.  He would do
it even if it meant that he would only be looked at as little more than a
bimbo boy toy!

"Yes.  Anything.  Just let me be you!" cried Bill.

Candy answered, non-chalantly, as if somebody had just asked her if she
wanted a Diet Coke, "Uh . . . okay, Billy.  Let's do it."

As soon as Candy said those three little words, Bill felt his manhood start
to jerk in spasm.  He blew a load in his pants over the very thought of
what was going to happen.  Soon he would have her face, her body,  her
voice, her tits!

Bill would become Candy Monroe.

Bill got up again, wavering slightly.  "Y-you want to come with me so that
we can tell the technician."

"Okay," replied Candy merrily, popping her gum, yet again.  This was all
just a game to her.

She stood up next to Bill.  For the first time, Bill saw just how breathtaking
her body really was.  She was short, only about 5'2" or so.  The stretch
lycra pants showed off her heart shaped derriere, slender legs, and a
significant gap between her legs.  Her bountiful bosom stuck out from
Candy's chest, bouncing delightfully as she rose.

Yes.  Soon they will be all mine, thought Bill, his mind racing.  Part of him
couldn't believe what he was giving up to become what she was.

"Ya gotta promise me one thing, Billy," whispered Candy, looking up at
him.  She was whispering so that nobody else could hear.

"What?" was Bill's response.

"We haveta make the exchange while we're having sex.  It's a fantasy of
mine.   It almost makes me cum just thinking about it.    I wanna feel you
pumping into me, then all of a sudden I'll be pumping into you.  Fucking
myself.  I think it'd be soooooo hot!"

If more time had elapsed from Bill's impromtu orgasm, he would have
probably been hard again instantly.  Even now, with Candy's request, he
felt it stirring back to life.

"Then you have to do me a favor in return, Candy."

"What, Silly Billy?"

"When I become you, you have to take some of the money I make and
invest it for me."  Bill wanted to insure his financial future.  Who better to
trust then . . . . himself!

"I promise.  I will." assured Candy.

"Good.  Let's go."

Bill grabbed Candy's soft hand, and led her back to the gallery door.

**********

Minutes later, Bill and Candy were firmly ensconced in a private exchange
room.  The usual procedure was to put the exchangees in different rooms.
Once the exchange occurs, they do not get to see their former body.  It
was thought that the added stress of seeing your former body leave your
life, on top of the new sensations of the exchange, were too intense for
most people to handle.  However, for an added fee, and an executed
waiver, the exchangees could retire to a private room where they could
watch themselves being exchanged into the other.   They even had a room
with a bed.   Apparently they weren't the first to make such a request.

It was a fee that Bill was only to happy pay on behalf of the both of them. 
After all, shortly, the money would no longer belong to him.  It would all
belong to Candy.

Both Bill and Candy remained as silent as a church mouse, as the
technicians attached the wire leads to the chakra points on their respective
face and head.  By and by, the technicians finished their task, exiting
through the only door.  The only things left in the room were Bill, Candy,
and a bed.

A voice spoke from a hidden speaker.  "Bill?  Candy?  Five minutes until
exchange.  Stand by."

Bill looked at his body to be.  He was already hard again, in anticipation
of the exchange.  "Shall we?"

They both disrobed quickly, so as to not waste any precious time. 
Clothes were strewn everywhere, and finally the two stood there facing
the image of the person they were to become.  Bill could hardly even
breath.  He couldn't believe that in less than five minutes, he would be the
one to wear that huge bra.   He was so awed by the sheer femininity of the
girl which stood before him. 

Candy's eyes shifted down toward Bill' s crotch, and she smiled.

She took his hand, leading him to the bed.  "Fuck me, Billy.  Fuck my
brains out . . . I like it rough."    She giggled again.   "Not too rough,
though..."

Candy pushed him down on the bed, so that he was looking up at her. 
She reached down, and took his manhood into her tiny hands.  She
stroked it a few times, with long strokes, to attain the maximum hardness.

She mounted him deftly, guiding Bill's penis into her waiting cunny.

"Mmmm.  Yesssss," exhaled Candy at the sensation of being penetrated.

On top of it all, Candy was vocal during sex.  Bill tended to remain silent
so that he could concentrate on what he was doing.  He couldn't help but
wonder what it would feel like to be penetrated.  What would it like to be
the hunted, rather than the hunter?   He would know in a couple of
minutes.

"Harder, Baby.  Fuck me harder." purred Candy.  "Grab my tits!"  

Bill eagerly took her mountainous breast flesh into each of his hands.  He
began to fondle them tenderly.  Candy would have none of that.

"I won't break you know.  Grab  em. I want ya to paw me.  Manhandle
me.  Treat me like a bad girl!"

Bill roughly kneaded the big boobs to the point where he thought that he
was hurting her.

"Ohhh.  Yeaahhh," Candy approved.  "Fuck me harder now!"

Bill began to literally pound his cock upward, slamming in and out of her
violently.

"YES!" she moaned.

Her tits were jiggling up and down madly with each of Bill's upward
thrusts.  The whole thing was getting Bill off.  He never thought that he
would be into rough sex . . . but it was hot.  Candy's dirty talk just added
to it.

"Now grab my ass.  Hurry!"

Bill complied with her request, and grasped her lower cheeks.

"GRAB IT HARD!" she demanded loudly.

Bill squeezed as hard as he could.

"OHHHHH!" came from Candy's mouth.

He continued to pump away violently into her lubrucated pussy. 
Suddenly, a voice came over the hidden speaker.

"Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . ." their strokes matched the verbal cadence,
"seven . . . six . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .
CONTACT!"

Bill was pumping into her . . . pumping into her . . . pumping . . . pumping
. . . getting pumped into . . . getting pumped into . . . getting.

He suddenly realized that he was no longer laying on the bottom.  He was
upright.  Not only that, something was sliding violently in and out of him.
It felt . . . soooo goood.  A great weight was bouncing up and down on
his chest.  Boobs.

Quite uncharacteristically, Bill, now Candy, screamed, "OHHH,
YEEEESSSSS!" as both exchangees reached orgasm simultaneously.

**********

Later, the new Candy lay in the wet spot.  The new Bill had already been
detached from the wire leads, and gone forth to start his new life.  This
made the new Candy giggle to herself.

She had no idea what was so funny.  It was just that . . . she felt so happy.

Miranda joined Candy in the room.

"Are you happy?"

"Tee hee.  Like, yeah.  This is soooo kewl!  Do ya have any gum?"

"I have to tell you Candy.  That body and life isn't something that I would
have chosen.  You're a brave man . . . er . . . girl."

Candy was confused, which wasn't difficult, considering her new
diminished mental abilities.

"I-I don't understand."

"You're a walking advertisement for a blowjob.  You have the brain of a
child. And there's the . . . you know?"

"What?"

"Didn't you read Candy's profile before you exchanged?"

"Tee hee.  No.  Why?"

"Oh my God.  There was something psychologically wrong with her.  She
liked to be abused and degraded by men.  She got off on it.  That's why
she altered her body like she did.  That's why she pretends to be the next
incarnation of Marilyn.  Don't you understand?  Now you like that stuff!"

Candy didn't really care anymore.  She had a job to get to.   The only
thing that she said was, "Tee hee!"

Fin.