Role Over Ch. 03 - 06

by ColinGraham


Continuing the saga of Alex and his transformation..


A wooden door with stained glass panels led out onto an enclosed deck. Only the stars were visible above the tall wood fence that screened the deck from neighboring houses. Misha laid the towels on a wide bench that ran along one side of the deck.

Clad only in the thin robe -- and the panties -- I shivered in the wintry night air. "If you thought I was cool before," I said, "I'm downright cold now."

"Shhhh ...Get in here," Misha replied, pulling the cover off a cedar soaking tub.

Steam tendrils rose from the heated water, beckoning me with the promise of warmth. The curve of Misha's cute butt as she bent to stow the cover promised even more. My cock rose accordingly.

"We don't have swim-suits." I teased.

"Hmm ... too bad." Without another word, Misha turned her back to me and pulled her dress over her head.

I stared in rapt attention as the white glow of her panties slid down her legs to the deck. All too quickly she stepped into the tub and submerged herself up to her neck. A slender finger breached the surface and beckoned me to join her.

Still shivering, I shucked the tiny robe, slid the panties off and stepped down into the water, moving quickly to hide my arousal. I was intensely aware of her unabashed appraisal of my body as I descended into the water beside her.

We sat silent for a long time, not speaking or touching, just gazing up at the carpet of stars overhead. Occasionally our eyes would descend and meet across the placid, steamy water. I could not guess what was going on behind her calm gaze, but I somehow got the feeling she was looking behind my own eyes, gauging the darkness there.

After what seemed like hours in the serene warmth of the tub I rose to get out. Slightly woozy, I missed the step and fell backward. Misha had risen behind me however, and she reached to catch me. It was an awkward moment, and she made the most of it.

As my backside fell against her wet breasts and stomach, her hand came underneath my arm and cupped my left breast. I was more distracted by her other hand, which had slid up the inside of my thigh until it came to rest against my testicles. Moreover, the force of my weight had wedged her forearm between my slick buttocks.

Misha laughed as we fell back into the tub together. "Well. That was interesting."

She slowly pulled her hand free from beneath me, but as she did so she lightly scraped her fingertips along my nether regions. My buttocks contracted reflexively, slowing her hand's escape. She smiled.

"Yes indeed," she said, "You're definitely a man down there."

"Uh, yes, I am," I replied nervously, "But I thought the man was supposed to do the groping."

"Maybe you're already practicing for that female part," she quipped. She pinched my nipple with her other hand and gave it a playful twist.


"Oh, poor baby ... So sensitive."

Somehow we managed to extricate ourselves from the tub without further incident. Misha handed me a big thick towel and as we both dried off I snuck a few more glances at her magnificent body. Finally—thoroughly aroused and ready for some real action--I slipped the robe back on, stuffed my panties into side pocket, and followed her back toward the living room. A warm fireplace was waiting, I knew, and there was no finer setting for what I had in mind.



We sat by the fire for a long time, watching the flames and talking quietly. Misha sensed I was still depressed, so she delicately avoided discussing my recent failures. Instead, she told me about herself. She was born in the Seattle area and grew up here, enjoying all the benefits of the area, boating hiking and skiing whenever she could. She had attended the University of Washington for three years, majoring in art history. During her fourth year at college, Misha's parents were killed in a car accident while returning from a ski-trip.

"I was supposed to go on that trip with them," she said, her voice nearly a whisper, "but final exams got in the way."

I reached over, squeezed her hand and held it until she was ready to talk again. Only a few moments passed, but I knew I could have held it all night if that's what she had needed. My thoughts of seducing her had faded, but strangely I didn't mind. It was enough to just sit beside her and share the fire's warmth.

After the accident she dropped out of college and—being the only child—settled her parent's affairs. She sold their large house and furnishings as soon as the estate was settled. "It was just too painful to go back—to remember," she explained. "I was lost, miserable and despondent. So I think I know a little about what you're going through."

"I'd say you probably know a lot more," I replied.

I told her how my own parents had divorced when I was still in high-school. "It's amazing how fast everything changed. It was like an explosion wiped out my whole little universe."

Misha listened intently as I explained how I had stayed with friends in order to finish high school.

"What did you do after you graduated?"

"I traveled. I stopped and worked when I needed cash, but mostly I kept moving. Somehow I wound up back here. Homing instinct I guess." There was an old-fashioned clock on the fireplace mantle – it was late. I stood and stretched. "I should let you get to bed. Where are my clothes?"

Misha jumped to her feet. "Oh my god! I forgot to take them out of the washer and put them in the dryer."

"Guess I'll have to drive home naked after all."

"Oh no you don't! Too cold for that! We have a spare bedroom you can use."

Misha noticed my surprised look. These little bungalows usually had only two bedrooms.

"That's right," she said. "I sleep with my roommate." Misha watched my face carefully, trying to gauge my reaction. "Is that so strange?"

"Not at all," I replied. "I have no problem accepting that two people can love each other. In fact I'm envious."

Misha smiled, relieved. "When my parents died I was devastated. I didn't even want to be alive. Maybe a little like you felt this evening."

"Sounds worse," I said sympathetically.

"Anyway, I met Katy in a therapy group. She was counseling the group. It was part of her nursing school training. She was amazing, funny but intense, you know? We talked a lot after the meeting. Then we started hanging out together—nothing sexual at first, sort of like sisters. Gradually I began to regain some enthusiasm for living. I think I owe most of it to the 'transformation.' It turned me around, and allowed me to put the past behind."


"My new life-role, of course. Katy taught me how to look at gender-roles like you would a suit of clothes. You can try it on, wear it for awhile, and then keep it or toss it. Determining who you really are is not always easy. Some of us need to take a few risks—to experiment." Misha grasped my knee for emphasis. Her eyes seemed to say that I was one of those who needed to take a few risks. "The important thing is to do whatever feels right for you. I found my new role strange at first, but I think that's actually what helped me come around. To get out of my depression and get on with life."

"How is that?"

"Our preconceived notions and attitudes about sex, and our sexual roles, form the core of our personalities; it's how we see ourselves and others around us. Breaking away from that was a real catalyst for me. It could be for you, too. That's why I asked you earlier about role-playing. It might help."

"Too late. I think I'm beyond redemption."

Misha's eyes glimmered in the firelight. "Don't ever think that," she cautioned. "You just need to lose some 'baggage.'" She caught me stifling a yawn. "Looks like I've kept you up beyond your bedtime. Let me show you your bed."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not, silly. I'll even fix breakfast and send you off with a full belly tomorrow." This last innocent promise would later take on an entirely different meaning—one I could not have imagined in my wildest fantasies.

I followed Misha out of the room and down the hall to where a small bedroom with a comfortable bed lay ready. We said our good nights and she closed the door behind her. As I slipped out of the robe, the panties fell out of the pocket. I picked them up and stared at them, wondering what it would be like to the role Misha had urged me to try. I had a brief urge to put the panties on, but instead I tossed them onto the chair with the robe and climbed into bed naked. A new role, I thought ... ridiculous. I hoped that sleep would overtake me immediately, but instead I lay there in the darkness listening to the distant pop and snap and snap of logs burning away in the fireplace.



Sleep never came. I was still plagued by the twin demons of anxiety and self-doubt that had led me earlier to the edge of the dark waters. Some time later I heard a door open and close, then women's voices. Her roommate must have come home. After a few minutes I could just make out the bed creaks and soft moans that usually indicate two people are having a good time. A very good time, from the sound of it.

I awoke with a start. The pull-down window shade had turned from black to deep indigo, so it must have been near dawn. Inside my tortured kind it was darker than ever though. Misha's spark of hope had been snuffed out by the overwhelming feelings of despair that had plagued me for months. In fact now it was worse, as if her light had only served to emphasize the long shadows of my depression. I had to end it.

In a daze I rose and slipped quietly from the house, still wearing the bathrobe. What did it matter anyway? There was a garden hose lying next to the house. I unhooked it and threw it over my shoulder, not knowing exactly how I'd use it. I had a vague thought about funneling exhaust fumes into my car. Yes, that would work. I began walking to where my car was parked, but as I neared the lake the dark waters beckoned me. I turned toward the lake as if in a trance.

Fortunately no traffic was about yet; a semi-nude man with a garden hose would have made an irresistible target for a bored cop. The cold night air had me shivering by the time I reached the water's edge. I stubbed my toe, cursed, and looked down to find a couple of rocks sticking out of the mud. Now an idea started to take shape.

I dug around the base of the larger rock, pawing and scraping, and eventually using a stick as a tool. At last the rock began to loosen, and then broke free with a wet sucking sound. I lifted it with some difficulty and carried it to the end of the small dock. Then I returned for the hose, the plan complete in my mind's eye.

I secured the hose to the rock a few loops and cross-knots, and then wrapped my feet into the mess with several more turns of the hose. I tried to lift my legs. The rock must have weighed nearly a hundred pounds; definitely what you'd call a "two-man rock." I could barely able to move.

I looked down proudly at my jury-rigged "cement overshoes." At least I could do something right, even it would be the last thing I ever did. The sky had lightened from indigo to pre-dawn grey. Soon I'd be visible from the road. It was time. I shivered uncontrollably; God I was cold. Well that won't last long, I thought, wondering if that bright light you're supposed to see when you die had any warmth to it.

I lay down on the end of the old dock, took a final breath of fetid lake air, and rolled off into the blackness.


My plunge downward was brief. The rock struck the lake bottom with a dull thud and buried itself in the ooze. The hose somehow remained attached, and with it my ankles. Moments later my lungs began screaming and I realized I might have made a mistake. Surely carbon monoxide wouldn't have been this painful.

I threw my head back, struggling to find that precious breath of air. Fortunately, I had misjudged the lake-depth here, but just barely. My nose broke the placid surface and found air. I drew a breath. My lungs stopped burning. Then I was really pissed off.

Great, just great. I fucked up my own suicide. I always thought the lake was deeper here when we used to fish for trout as kids. Did they fill it in? Could the ducks have crapped that much in ten years? Then I remembered, everything was deeper, bigger and higher when you were a kid. Now here I was, stuck to the bottom of the lake with only my nostrils poking out and snorting air like a seal, trying to sustain a life I no longer wanted.

Oh well. At least I wasn't going anywhere. I consoled myself with the sudden realization that hypothermia might actually finish the job.



I had stopped feeling the cold and was getting sleepy when I saw the lights approaching. Funny, I thought, near-death witnesses always say you see just one light. I heard muffled shouts—why muffled? Oh yeah, my ears are underwater. Footsteps clomped over boards, growing closer, and a light hit my eyes, blinding me. I raised my hands toward it. More muffled shouts. Something touched my hand--a stick. What the hell? Were they trying to push me under?

I grabbed the end of the stick and pulled. It immediately broke off in my hand. My exertions caused the rock to settle deeper into the mud. I went with it, and my nose slipped below the surface. Oh shit, not again!

Just as my lungs were ready to burst, I heard a splash and felt someone put their arms around me. Another splash, and more hands were pulling me. I felt my feet rise a little, and my head broke the surface. I sucked in a few great gasping breaths.

"Thank god, he's still breathing!" It was Misha's voice. My angel again. "Alex! Can you hear me?"

"S-s-sure," I sputtered.

"Katy! I think he's tangled up in this hose. Take this loose end and wade ashore with it. I'll stay here and try to keep his head above water. When you get your footing, pull like hell. Hang in there Alex."

Misha cradled my head in her hands as Katy pulled on the hose. Slowly, my feet rose from the bottom. The two women working together managed to drag me and my rock ashore. They untied my feet and laid me out on the grass. I was vaguely aware that my borrowed bathrobe had fallen open and that my cold-shriveled privates were exposed. Then I felt a soft hand brush across my stomach as the robe was pulled over me. For the second time that night I looked up to see an angel's face, only this time there were two. They were soaking wet, but both smiling.

Misha spoke first. "Alex, we've got to stop meeting like this."

My attempt to laugh came out more like a shivering convulsion. The two faces clouded with concern.

"Alex, this is my roommate Katy. She's a nurse. She's going to give you a brief examination, and then we'll get you back to the house, Okay?"

Katy began checking my vital signs, while my eyes checked her over. She had a serious but pretty face, framed by short dark hair and pierced by eyes that shone like obsidian in the dawn gloom. Her breasts were larger than Misha's, but small enough that she could go braless in a pinch. As she was now, judging from the fat nipples poking out through her wet shirt. I had an inexplicable urge to bury my head in that warm valley between them. She shone her flashlight in my eyes and I blinked.

"He's nearly hypothermic," said Katy. "We have to warm him up right away."

Katy helped me up while Misha gathered up their coats from where they had laid them before plunging into the lake. Huddling together, we managed to cover the three of us with two coats, and staggered back to the house, wet and shivering. A few predawn commuters buzzing along the lakeshore slowed to gape at the dripping six-legged monster from Greenlake.

"To the hot tub, now!" Katy commanded as we slogged into the house. She stoked up the fireplace while Misha and I headed for the back door.

Misha stripped her wet clothes off and then helped me out of my wet robe. I should have been enjoying the view, but all I could think of was how cold I was. At last I sank down into the warm waters. My teeth were still chattering when—a few moments later—Katy stepped out in the dawn light, peeled off her own wet clothes, and slid down into the tub. As warmth and sanity slowly returned to me, I became acutely aware of the two exceptionally attractive nude women sitting on either side of me. I also felt bad about what they had gone through to get me here.

"I'm sorry," I offered lamely.

"Sorry for what, Alex? Misha asked softly.

"I don't know. For getting you involved I guess."

"Remember Alex, I found you last night, not the other way around."

"Yes, but--"

"Hush." Misha held her finger up to my lips, "Don't talk now--not yet. Let's go in by the fire and have something warm to drink. Later, after we're all warmed up inside we can talk. If you still feel like it. Wait here while I get some towels."

She got out of the tub and ran into the house, golden hues of morning light washing across her retreating form. Katy noticed me staring and gave me a curious look.

"You like her don't you Alex?"

"I'm sorry. It's that obvious is it?"

"Yes it is." She raised her eyebrows a little and gazed intently at me, "Did she tell you that we're lovers?"


"Does that make you feel uncomfortable, Alex?"

"No." Uncomfortable with this line of questioning, I changed the subject. "You saved my life. Why?"

"We haven't saved it yet Alex," Katy replied rising from the tub, "not until we can be sure you don't try and kill yourself again." I was pondering this—and the sight of her magnificent body emerging from the tub—when Misha returned holding an armful of towels.

"Two for everyone," Misha said, handing them out, "Then run for the fireplace!"

I stepped carefully from the tub and grabbed my two towels, wrapping one around my waist and the other around my neck. As I followed the women inside my reawakened mind began playing tricks on me. I thought about Misha's phrase, 'Two for everyone,' wondering if she'd been referring to towels or to the three of us. What did the French call it? Oh yes, a menage au trois.

(The rest of this story is complete, at about 55,000 words. I'll post sections as I complete editing. Thanks for your patience!)

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