Hacked: A Gender Swap Story

Anthony hunched forward at his desk. The desk did not gleam with a well polished veneer over stately oak or pine. It was a slab of white composite wood he’d bought at Ikea and assembled himself for a sum total of three hundred dollars. The spindly legs and weak joints did little to inspire confidence in its weight, yet Anthony had put everything he truly valued upon this rickety structure. A large, black case to his right glowed blue from internal LEDs. The computer emitted a low hum as four fans and a cooling device churned away behind the overpriced casing. Beside it, three monitors were arrayed like a bay window.

Anthony sat at the middle of it all, his left hand resting on the keyboard while his right guided a twenty two button mouse over a large track pad. His fingers worked deftly as his eyes darted back and forth across the screen. Headphones more suited to a recording studio than a studio apartment sat on top of his head, drowning out the world around him with the sounds of his game. A microphone extended from the side of his headset, but he used it rarely. In any vacant spot on the desk, Anthony had placed strange collectibles. Tiny figures of gaming characters, collective coins, stickers with strange non sequiturs, stacks of unread books, piles of half remembered equipment, Pez dispensers, other controllers and consoles, and more all cluttered the desk. They gave it character at first glance, but upon a further evaluation, could be considered little more than clutter. This clutter sprawled out from his desk like a growing fungus. It crept up the walls in the form of posters and prints, usually of so called nerdy movies. One of Anthony’s favorites was a fifties style pin up of a buxom lady advertising power armor from Fallout. On the rare occasion he wasn’t focused on one of his three screens, usually while waiting for something to load, his eyes would drift up to the faux-aged poster and take some appreciation in its existence.

“Fuck, goddammit, piece of shit,” he grumbled, slamming his hand down on his desk as the screen turned dark and an enormous “DEFEAT” appeared. His eyes glanced down at the system tray and noticed the time. He pulled off the headset and swiveled around in his chair. “Honey?” he called towards the bathroom.

“Yeah, what?” answered a female voice.

“It’s like ten till nine, aren’t you going to be late?” he asked as he stood up to stretch.

“Yes, Anthony, I’m going to be late. If I’m still here and it’s ten minutes from when I’m supposed to be at work and I have a thirty minute commute, then yes, I’m going to be fucking late.” As she ranted, Carey stepped around the corner of the bathroom. She had been out of the shower for twenty minutes, but she was still naked. In her hands, she held a brush and a compact which she gestured wildly to emphasize her point. Her petite body looked good in the morning light spilling in from the blinds behind their bed and, despite knowing it would only get him in trouble, Anthony paid more attention to her body than her anger. She’d started to let her pubic hair grow and a light patch of blonde fuzz had appeared. Anthony didn’t particularly like it, but he couldn’t deny that it drew focus. “Hey, don’t get any fucking ideas. Shouldn’t you be looking for jobs?” She disappeared back into the bathroom area, her tight ass wiggling slightly.

Anthony imagined having a woman that he could just bend over and fuck whenever she started to nag too much. Working from home, he was tormented by her constant nudity in the mornings. She’d even stand in the bathroom and bend over to do something with her hair, wiggling her naked rear at him as he tried to brush his teeth or otherwise use the small area. Yet putting a single finger on her earned him a quick rebuke. Carey claimed it would make her late for work, yet Anthony didn’t see much different in being late for fucking and being late for spending too much time on Instagram. He stretched, rubbed his half erect cock, deciding to jerk off the second she left for work, and dropped back into his computer chair. His hands returned to the keyboard and the screens flared to life. Within seconds, he had closed out of his game and launched a variety of windows and programs. Anthony’s eyes devoured the information as quickly as he could summon it. He ran through emails, checked social media accounts, looked at various side projects he had going on, and browsed through message boards.

Finally, Carey interrupted him. “What are you doing?” She was fully dressed and darting back and forth grabbing her things.

“That job I did last week paid out. Seventeen hundred.”

“You finished it last week, how many actual hours did it take?” She went to the small kitchen and grabbed a frozen lunch, tossing it in her bag.

“It was only like thirty, I think,” Anthony answered, irritated.

“Thirty work hours, sure, but how long did it take from start to finish. You started that like two months ago and they were shit about getting you their specifications. These shitty freelance jobs aren’t reliable, Anthony, we’ve talked about it.”

“Yeah, we have, and we’ve established that I’ll go crazy if I have to code for some fucking third rate tech company. I like what I do and it pays well enough.” Her anger was contagious. Anthony usually allowed her gripes to bounce off of him, but Carey took an almost purposefully obtuse stance on their finances. He technically made more than she did, but since she got a paycheck week to week, she thought she carried more weight.

“You like what you do because you can sit at home all day playing video games and grabbing your dick.”

“The world would be a much fucking better place if everyone sat at home playing video games and grabbing their dicks,” Anthony answered. His shoulders ached with tension and her voice had started to make it worse.

She paused at the door, clutching her oversized purse to her side. “Just, think about it. It’s stressful not to have a regular income. You’re content to sit here all day, but that doesn’t work for me. Look at this apartment, it’s too small for us. We need to move, we need to get better jobs, we need to — if you want this to go any further, you need to start thinking about more than yourself. Love you.” She opened the door and disappeared outside before he could answer.

With Carey gone, Anthony fumed at his desk. His thin form hunched forward more than he knew it should. The point of his overpriced chair was to correct his poor posture, but really it only worked when he typed. He started drifting through the screens as his bad mood passed and he recalled his earlier plans to jerk off. Anthony, as a self employed programmer and designer for higher, had come to understand the value of routine and ritual. In the first few weeks after quitting his job, he’d experienced bursts of inspiration that translated into rapid task completion, but then the malaise crept over him. The corporate world had continued to crawl at the eight hour work day pace. Time had to be allotted for Jim in accounting to get off his ass, stop reading about last night’s game, and actually respond to the fucking email. Or it had to account for the fact that Janice in HR wouldn’t be back until the end of the next week. These inconveniences of the workplace wormed their way into Anthony’s own work flow through emails. What should have been two day projects became week long endeavors. As a result, he’d started to fill the time with games and the vastness of the Internet.

He counteracted this pull towards apathy by keeping a hard routine. He started the day by making breakfast for Carey and himself. Then, since he couldn’t work very effectively while she was getting dressed, he would spend that time playing a game or two to help wake up his mind. Usually this left him ready to tackle a project the second Carey walked out of the door. But with the argument, her specter lingered in the house and weighed down on him. He started drifting through reddit threads looking for anything of interest and making sure to check out the various pornographic offerings. A few caught his eye, but nothing really worthy of his time. Any arousal that Carey’s naked body had conjured had been put away by her harpyish ranting. Still, he needed his ritual. Getting coffee was one way to reset. If he found himself too absorbed in gaming news or a YouTube rabbit hole, he would stretch his legs, get a cup of coffee, and reset. In more severe cases of mind-blight, he needed a stronger chemical flush than caffeine could provide. Masturbation provided the answer.

Various clips of women sucking or riding or grinding filled his screens, but he passed them by like a shopper searching for an unbruised apple. Finally giving up on the aggregate site, he headed to a more specific content provider. He went up to the search bar and let the text cursor flash as he considered the phrase he wanted to use. As he thought, he looked back at the message board and saw a strange link. The title read, “Body hacking program. It actually worked. I swear.” Curious, and glad for the distraction, he clicked it.

“You won’t believe this. You’ll think it’s a scam, but it’s true. The program you find below is called BodyHack 2.0. I don’t know where it came from originally, but I found it on a different board. To really understand exactly what it is, you have to look at it, but this isn’t a bunch of cryptic bait. This program modifies bodies in the real world. Open it up, put in a name, and start changing things. There’s sliders for all sorts of stuff and more options than I could get through in a month. At first, I thought it was just some really involved character editor project, but I put in my name and it started to change me. I did just a little at first, reduced my weight by five pounds. And it happened. Then I did other things. I couldn’t help myself. There’s some kind of draw to it, like having that much control makes you go a little crazy. I changed everything. Made myself taller, packed on muscle, and then I started to think outside the box. I made my dick bigger. I found options to take away refractory periods. I found options to make my fucking cum taste like cherry. That’s when I realized, I could use this on any one. I don’t know how it works. But I can’t be the only one who has this. The person who gave it to me told me nothing else about it. I thought it was some dumb copypasta just like you’re thinking. But it’s real. Try it. I’ve set the links to burn out in a few hours. This isn’t something that should be spread far and wide, but it’s also something that one person shouldn’t have. I will say it’s made my life better. But it’s also made me something that I wasn’t before. Be careful.”

Anthony smirked as he read it. He noted the particular board it had been posted on, a niche group mainly for a very specific group of programmers. No one had responded. Usually, as the poster had suggested, Anthony would have dismissed it as a scam, but no one on that board would be so foolish as to take a program blindly. Urged on by his curiosity, he grabbed the file, dropped it onto a jump drive and moved it to a second tower he kept under his desk. He rerouted his right monitor with the flick of a switch and an older desktop interface appeared. He set up some more security precautions, but knew that even if it bricked his old system, he wouldn’t lose much. If anything, Carey would be glad that one less hunk of tech crowded the desk area. He pulled open the jump drive and launched BodyHack 2.0.

The screen flickered as the resolution lowered itself. The resulting screen displayed an interface that looked similar to early versions of windows. After a brief load screen that displayed the phrase BodyHack, Anthony saw an empty window with a grey border. At the top, he found the normal program tool bar with options such as file, edit, view, and tools. He clicked file and a drop down menu gave him more options. He clicked on “Create New Profile.” A window popped up in the middle of the screen that asked for a name. He entered his own. A load bar appeared and ticked over slowly. When it vanished a crude paper doll appeared on the screen. Anthony’s heart jumped to his throat. Though the graphics were terrible, he couldn’t deny that a pixelated version of himself now looked back at him. Even the clothes were the same, down to the stain on his white shirt from that morning’s jam. He thought it must have grabbed a picture from a camera somehow, but the second window that appeared drew his attention away from those questions. The list beside the crude image of himself listed basic things near the top. It had an entry field for height and weight with sub categories for things like limb length and body fat percentage. Beside those were other basic options like hair color and eye color and age. The fields didn’t have drop down menus, but typed input. His hair was set to black. He highlighted it, deleted the “black” and replaced it with “red.” A grey button activated in the bottom corner that read “apply.” He clicked it and a second confirmation box appeared. “Apply changes to profile, Anthony?” He clicked yes.

The image on screen changed to reflect the new red hair, but Anthony did not feel a rush of energy or anything. He shrugged, not knowing what it would feel like to have your hair suddenly change color. He stood and went to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. “Oh fuck.” He broke into a nervous laughter as he looked at himself with red hair. It had changed right down to the root, looking like a dark red mop. Anthony grabbed handfuls of it and yanked, not believing it to be possible. His mind started to race with possibilities and he ran back over to the computer. He started flying through the menus. After looking up other physiques, he changed his height to add a few inches and trimmed his body fat percentage down while moving up his muscle mass. He fixed his hair back to a shiny black. Then he hit apply. He did feel something this time. A wave of dizziness washed over him as his equilibrium shook for a moment. As he grew stable, he stood up, feeling like a giant though only an inch or two had changed. His body felt strong and powerful as he walked over to look at himself in the mirror. He stripped off his clothes to stand naked in the bathroom. “I’m fucking ripped, holy shit.” He flexed his muscles, astonished at the changes to his body. Pride welled up in him as he thought of how much work it would have taken to get such a physique at the gym and he’d done it in a few keystrokes.

His eyes paused at the sight of his dick. “I wonder…” He went back to the computer. At the top of the list was a search field. After considering for a moment, he entered “penis.” It rolled down to various options about his genitals. “Length of shaft, width of shaft, holy shit…” he read. As he scrolled down, each field got more and more specific. It even had options for amount of cum per ejaculation and taste of ejaculate. He noted that he could toggle whether or not his ejaculate contained sperm. “Built in birth control.” He popped his knuckles and set to work. He keyed in an extra three inches of cock for himself. And widened his dick by a fair amount as well. He increased amount of ejaculate and lengthened period of orgasm. He found the setting for refractory period and lowered it to one second. For each change he saw a few others that he wanted to make on further iterations. Satisfied with his current work, he hit apply and leaned back in his chair to watch.

He felt a pulling sensation at his core and then he saw his cock start to change. It grew larger as it started to grow erect. He wrapped his hand around it, feeling it pulse with growth, and he started to stroke. Remembering sensitivity options, he turned back to his computer, but noticed his phone light up. A text message from Carey read, “fuck, I forgot my shift starts later. I’m on my way back.” Anthony’s lips split open in a fiendish grin.

“File…new profile…c-a-r-e-y…”

The screen changed as an image of Carey came up. The options changed as well. Anthony guessed that she was only ten minutes away at most so he started working quickly. He went into her body first. He trimmed away a little from her waist and added some girth to her hips. He doubled the size of her ass and did the same for her breasts. After considering it, he added a little more to her tits since he thought she’d started small anyway. He found options for sexual arousal and cranked them as high as he could. It won’t be permanent, but why not have a little fun. The more he searched the more complex the menus became. He even found an overlay for the paper doll version of Carey that showed all her erogenous zones. He dialed each of them up until her entire body was nothing but one thrumming sex pot. He found options for her pussy as well, tightening it up and making it constantly lubricated.

With his work finished for the moment, his finger hesitated before clicking on the apply button. If I do this, I’m majorly violating my girlfriend’s trust. She’ll be putty in my hands, subject to the whims of my own perversion. Where does it stop? Right now I turn her into a big tittied bimbo that can’t touch anything without almost spasming with orgasm. What next? There’s options for fur growth and extra fucking breasts. I could make her a giantess and fuck her with my whole body if I wanted to. I could turn myself into a fucking werewolf or a minotaur. Whatever this program is, it wasn’t meant to stop at adding an extra inch or two to your dick. Should I go forward? Or should I reverse everything and delete the program? He heard keys in the hallway. Fuck it.

He clicked apply and the second dialog box popped up. His eyes read the name in the field as he clicked accept. Horror knotted up in his stomach as his brain caught up with his eyes. The window had read, “Apply changes to profile, Anthony?”

The door opened and Carey stepped into the room just in time to see her boyfriend stand up. “Anthony? Why are you naked? What’s wrong?”

He could barely hear her. His body felt as though it were on fire. His chest started to swell as he struggled to focus on the screen. “Need…to fix…it.” He couldn’t speak. Every muscle in his body had tightened as he started to transform. His shoulders narrowed as his hips flared out. Dizziness overwhelmed him and he crumpled to the floor. Carey shouted in alarm and came over to him. Her hand touched his shoulder and a streak of hot, white pleasure ripped through is body. He jerked away from her as his facial hair fell away and his chest started to swell. He felt a pulling sensation again and he looked down to see his cock rapidly shrinking. Within seconds it had turned from a massive cock into nothing but a tiny nub. His balls shriveled up and pulled inside him as well, disappearing with a pop. Seconds after that, he felt a new type of emptiness inside of him as a pussy opened up where his cock had once been. Not just any pussy, the one I designed for Carey. I’m turning into a bimbo version of my girlfriend.

Carey watched the scene with absolute horror on her face. Enormous tits sprung out of Anthony’s chest as his ass flared out into a jiggling cushion. More shocking still was his face contorting and reshaping to become more and more like her own. “Anthony, what the fuck is happening?”

“The program on my computer,” he said through clenched teeth. “Change me…back.” His hands started to rove up and down his body. They grabbed hold of his fat tits and squeezed. Despite his confusion, the feeling of his hands on his own breasts caused his pussy to twitch. This feels amazing. God, I want a cock inside me. The thought jumped into his mind before he realized what he was thinking. But once it had arrived, he couldn’t ignore it. A big fat cock sliding into my new pussy. It’s so tight and wet.

Carey sat down at the computer and took in what was on the screen. “You were going to do this to me? That’s fucking sick, Anthony. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Anthony didn’t hear her. His fingers had found the soft folds of his pussy and he pushed his ring and index fingers into his tight box. He shuddered and quaked as another small orgasm ripped through his body. Am I even a him any more? My cock is gone and I have this tight pussy. Look at these big fat titties. And god, my ass, what I wouldn’t give to have someone grab my butt and hold me down while they shoved their fat dick in my pussy. The settings had almost microwaved Anthony’s brain. All he could think about was sex as he writhed on the floor plunging fingers into his pussy with one hand while squeezing his new fat nipples with the other.

Carey navigated through the program. She found the button for defaults and fixed her own profile. Then she considered changing Anthony back. She turned to look at him and saw that his transformation had finished. Lying on the floor, mewling with legs wide open and fingers buried knuckle deep in a pussy was her boyfriend. Except it looked nothing like Anthony. Instead, Carey saw a fetishized version of herself. Despite the bizarreness of seeing her fat titted twin with her boyfriends mind tucked somewhere inside, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of arousal. “Anthony, you still with me?”

“Oh god, Carey, it feels so good. I need you, please. Come here and lick my pussy. I can’t stop cumming.” Anthony trailed off into a delirious murmur.

Carey went back to the computer screen. “Maybe I can do something better than that,” she said. Her fingers flew over the keys. After a minute, she had the confirmation box pop up. She read it carefully and then switched the active profile to herself and hit enter. She gasped as the changes started to manifest. First, she’d made some basic changes. She’d given herself larger breasts, though not as big as Anthony. They wobbled with their new weight as she peeled away her clothes. She felt the pulling at her core as she pushed down her jeans and kicked them away. Looking between her legs, she smiled. Her clit had started to swell, pushing out of the top of her pussy and growing longer and thicker. After a few seconds, she reached down to hold it. The fleshy tube fit comfortably in her hand and pulsed as it grew larger and larger. “Holy fuck, Anthony, I gave myself a cock.” She started to stroke her new dick as the head flared into the familiar shape and a steady ooze of clear fluid began. Beneath the cock, her pussy dripped with arousal. She felt the familiar desire to fill herself up, but that would have to wait. Her body raged with conflicting hormones, but the swollen cock in her hand gave her new sensations that demanded attention.

Anthony snapped out of his reverie long enough to see what Carey had done to herself. “Mmm, that looks so big and thick, are you going to fuck me with it? Are you going to stick that cock in my pussy and fuck your boyfriend? Will it cum? Can you cum in my pussy with it?”

“You were going to make me into a fried brain bimbo and wound up doing it to yourself. Maybe you did it on purpose. So, I guess that’s how I’ll treat you. You look just like me, you know. Time to fuck myself. Turn over and stick your ass in the air.”

Anthony giggled with glee as he obeyed. His ass shook from side to side as he spread his knees on the carpet and arched his back. Carey's hand lowered slowly onto the ass in front of her. Once again, the second their body’s touched, Anthony’s entire being shuddered with pleasure. I set the sensitivity way too high, he managed to think. Carey grinned at the sight of Anthony’s changed body shivering from a simple touch. She’d never enjoyed the doggy style position, but now that she had a cock, she understood the aspect of control it gave. She slapped her dick against Anthony’s ass, pleased to see that it was much bigger than his had ever been. She took hold of her cock by the base and guided it down to the wet, waiting lips of Anthony’s pussy.

Anthony’s world was nothing but a haze of sexual pleasure. He was keenly aware of Carey’s cock as it moved between his soft thighs. He could feel the heat of it as it neared his pussy. It pushed against his slit with a dull clumsiness, but instinct guided Carey more than she realized. She angled her hips and the cock pushed against Anthony’s opening. He looked over his shoulder, “C’mon, fuck me with that fat cock.” Carey pushed her hips forward and her cock slipped inside of Anthony with ease. Both of them groaned. Carey grabbed handfuls of Anthony’s new wide hips and held him still as she experienced the feeling of having a cock inside of a pussy for the first time. She could feel Anthony’s walls contracting around her and realized instantly why men had started wars over women.

Instinct drove her onward and she started to stroke in and out. Anthony was a moaning and thrashing mess, orgasms tearing through his mind again and again. The only thing that could cut through the pleasure was a worry that he would go insane from it all. My girlfriend is fucking my pussy with her cock. My big tits are dragging the floor. What the fuck have we done to each other. This feels fucking amazing. “Never, stop, fucking me,” Anthony grunted.

Carey felt pressure building at the base of her dick. She didn’t exactly understand what it meant but had a decent guess. She pushed Anthony’s back down, so that his face rubbed the ground and allowed Carey to push even deeper with her cock. She groaned and shoved her whole length into Anthony, loving the feeling of her body pressing into Anthony’s soft ass. Cum erupted from the tip of her cock, spraying deep inside of her boyfriend. She gasped and finally relaxed, letting her shrinking cock slip out of Anthony’s pussy. “Ok, I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Carey said with a breathless smile. She started to stand up, but Anthony stopped her. He rose up to his knees and scooted close enough to Carey that their nipples rubbed together.

“What’s the hurry? Haven’t you ever wanted to see what you look like when you give a blow job?” Anthony smirked and started kissing his way down her body, his mouth watering at the thought of having a cock in it.

“Keep this up and I’ll get used to being the one with the cock,” Carey answered. She gasped as Anthony slurped her cock into his mouth.

Both of them started making mental lists of all the things they could change.