I’ve been dating my current girlfriend on and off for about six months now. Being as I’m attracted to fucking lunatics, she and I are always arguing about the most nonsensical bullshit. When I say arguing, I don’t mean debating or having little whiney tit-for-tat discussions… I mean we’re storming around, screaming at the tops of our lungs, going on the internet to find factual support and smashing shit over each other’s head.
Just the other night, we were having a screaming match about whose life is harder… Men or women? I don’t think men have harder lives by any means; but the fact that she wanted to give women the benefit of the doubt was pissing me off. So I did what any man would do, I stubbornly disagreed because fuck you, I won’t let you win, I have a penis and you suck. It got bad, real bad. Then it got weird, really weird.
At some point in the night we both shouted, “If you were a man/woman, you’d understand,” in unison. The skies darkened, lightning stuck the house and then out of no where we both blacked out. The next day, I woke up with a surprise…
Holy shit, I was a woman. I was initially terrified, but then I realized I could really learn from this experience and maybe even exploit the opportunity to understand the female psyche better. Oh, and my girlfriend did turn into a man… But there wasn’t much to be learned, she knew all she had to do was stick her dick in things (including me) and she’d survive. Though my research got cut off early - you'll learn why - I did manage to learn a lot in a few hours...
Here are my findings:
As I am a fairly attractive woman, I decided a good place to start would be in public. I wanted to exercise my toned ass and see how differently women were treated than men. I decided to wear something conservatively slutty; I went with a turtleneck and an extremely short shirt that my pussycheeks would poke out from when I bent over. I figured getting the best of both worlds would be most beneficial.
On my way to the mall, I noticed how easy it was to hail a cab. Instead of raising my hand, I decided to rub my boobs together and blow kisses at the passing taxis. Almost immediately, a driver kicked his fare out to pick me up. “Awesome,” I thought, “This would be one of the greatest days ever.”
In the cab, I had some free time to explore my body. The bumps in the road were setting off mild sensations in my panties and it was thrilling… Here I thought dicks were sensitive, my muffins were getting moist just riding in a cab. Score.
Just the other night, we were having a screaming match about whose life is harder… Men or women? I don’t think men have harder lives by any means; but the fact that she wanted to give women the benefit of the doubt was pissing me off. So I did what any man would do, I stubbornly disagreed because fuck you, I won’t let you win, I have a penis and you suck. It got bad, real bad. Then it got weird, really weird.
At some point in the night we both shouted, “If you were a man/woman, you’d understand,” in unison. The skies darkened, lightning stuck the house and then out of no where we both blacked out. The next day, I woke up with a surprise…
Holy shit, I was a woman. I was initially terrified, but then I realized I could really learn from this experience and maybe even exploit the opportunity to understand the female psyche better. Oh, and my girlfriend did turn into a man… But there wasn’t much to be learned, she knew all she had to do was stick her dick in things (including me) and she’d survive. Though my research got cut off early - you'll learn why - I did manage to learn a lot in a few hours...
Here are my findings:
As I am a fairly attractive woman, I decided a good place to start would be in public. I wanted to exercise my toned ass and see how differently women were treated than men. I decided to wear something conservatively slutty; I went with a turtleneck and an extremely short shirt that my pussycheeks would poke out from when I bent over. I figured getting the best of both worlds would be most beneficial.
On my way to the mall, I noticed how easy it was to hail a cab. Instead of raising my hand, I decided to rub my boobs together and blow kisses at the passing taxis. Almost immediately, a driver kicked his fare out to pick me up. “Awesome,” I thought, “This would be one of the greatest days ever.”
In the cab, I had some free time to explore my body. The bumps in the road were setting off mild sensations in my panties and it was thrilling… Here I thought dicks were sensitive, my muffins were getting moist just riding in a cab. Score.
I finally reached the mall and completely ignored my fare, I just rubbed my tits together again and he happily drove off. Apparently rubbing tits = female currency.
In the mall, I was receiving a lot of great attention. I was thrilled to have men feasting on my goodies with their eyes, but it seemed the other women in the mall were so jealous. Dressing like a slut felt good, why should I be subject to ridicule? Is it like cheating at the game? Do I have to dress boring to even the playing field or something? I wanted to explore this, so I decided I needed to hit the food court.
In the mall, I was receiving a lot of great attention. I was thrilled to have men feasting on my goodies with their eyes, but it seemed the other women in the mall were so jealous. Dressing like a slut felt good, why should I be subject to ridicule? Is it like cheating at the game? Do I have to dress boring to even the playing field or something? I wanted to explore this, so I decided I needed to hit the food court.
There, I scouted the tables for an attractive couple. I came across two very attractive college students draped in Hollister apparel. The guy was something to truly behold, he was like if Taylor Lautner and Taylor Lautner had sex to make a more perfect Taylor Lautner.
The experiment was simple: In order to understand the strength of sluttiness, I would invite the man to have sex with me in the bathroom. I figured I needed a control so I was gunna ask with the girl there. If I successfully fuck this guy, I would then realize the hostility towards sluttiness. It’s overpowered as a technique and likely forbidden in the female community.
I approached the couple and went right at it. I grabbed him by his dick and balls and calmly asked, “Want to go fuck in the bathroom?” He looked horrified in the best possible way. I remember being a guy and this look means, “I’m gunna say yes, but I need to collect my blown mind first.”
Success. Sluttiness was cheating and that’s why women hate it. It’s super effective.
Having sex was crazy, too. It was like going from driving a car to operating a helicopter. My pussygina was tough to calculate and this guy wasn’t helping. Sure he had a big dick but I learned that big dicks don’t mean anything, anything I tell you. Having a clit and the G-spot made it so you need to have some sort of formula to level out the right amount of pleasure. Too much of one spoiled it for the other. I gained a new respect for women in sex; I realized it’s a lot of work and not just about getting slammed by a fat stick of meat. It requires finesse.
I approached the couple and went right at it. I grabbed him by his dick and balls and calmly asked, “Want to go fuck in the bathroom?” He looked horrified in the best possible way. I remember being a guy and this look means, “I’m gunna say yes, but I need to collect my blown mind first.”
Success. Sluttiness was cheating and that’s why women hate it. It’s super effective.
Having sex was crazy, too. It was like going from driving a car to operating a helicopter. My pussygina was tough to calculate and this guy wasn’t helping. Sure he had a big dick but I learned that big dicks don’t mean anything, anything I tell you. Having a clit and the G-spot made it so you need to have some sort of formula to level out the right amount of pleasure. Too much of one spoiled it for the other. I gained a new respect for women in sex; I realized it’s a lot of work and not just about getting slammed by a fat stick of meat. It requires finesse.
I couldn’t stand this feeling, it was too much for my first day. I screamed out into the
Even if it were a dream, it seems being a woman requires a different mind set. You have to constantly think about what other people are thinking about you. You have to worry about the things going in you, rather than the things you’re going in. The most important thing I learned is that women have a sort of daily quota of sluttiness they can’t surpass, but have to meet in order to keep their self-esteems up. And that’s what men need to learn. We have to learn how to coax a woman into meeting her quota with us, rather than spreading herself thin and us getting short-sticked because she showed a little leg to her boss earlier.
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