A compulsion to wear heels and a huge, unwieldy ass from the mom next door. A pesky allergy to wheat from God knows who. Gender exchanged by a jogger that happened to be in front of his house. And most disruptive was the nudist tendencies from the man at the end of the street. Harry really went through the ringer when the Role Exchanger struck his neighborhood. And unlike the former nudist who worked from home, Harry’s job took him out in public, which meant he would have to wear clothes. He has yet to find any pants that had a prayer of getting past his wide hips, so he was stuck with very tight-fitting skirts. If catching the hungry eye of nearly every man he passed wasn’t bad enough, the way the fabric strained against his colossal ass was a constant annoyance, growing the need to rip everything off and be free. Unfortunately he was only able to act on those impulses in the safety of his own home. Ending the day to finally strip down, feeling the breeze on his exposed skin, and downing a cold drink in front of the TV like old times made the discomfort worth it. He had to switch the usual beer for hard seltzer, but it still gave him that buzz. Getting tipsy often made Harry amorous, though, and easy access to his female equipment was a surefire recipe to make his nights much more enjoyable than his days.