Wacky Wednesday

···Amon···

When I woke up on Wednesday morning, my butt hurt.

Not unbearable pain, but my buttocks do feel sore and hot.I haven't experienced this feeling in a long time.When I was young, I would occasionally accept being spanked, kind of experimenting in the BDSM realm.But I know that I am a "master", accepting whipping and restraint is just to experience the feeling of "slave".

I wanted to open my eyes, but quickly gave up on this action.My head throbbed and I had a strange taste in my mouth, like something had fermented.I rolled over from my side to my stomach on the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and noticed that my size had shrunk significantly.Every movement I make is flexible and graceful, and I no longer hear the crackling of my 39-year-old joints and cartilage as I roll over in bed.

I opened my eyes anyway, and the first thing I noticed was that I was lying on Jack's side of the bed.I looked at my hands, my arms, my chest.All are familiar to me, but none of them belong to me.

impossible.I run a finger down my straight nose to soft, full lips.There's no way this is going to happen.

I heard someone walking in the bathroom, and I heard my own voice whispering through the half-closed door, "Look at you, handsome guy. Tickets to the show are 200 yuan per person, but I can give You and one of your friends watch it for free, what kind of show are you asking? Muscle show①!..."

Note ①: The original text is written as gunshow (gun show), which actually refers to showing muscles. Here it refers to Jack playing with his muscles in Amon's body.Old English stalker: ——Little brother, are you going to the gun show? (After finishing speaking, he rolled up his sleeves to reveal his muscles!)

I don't know which god, goddess, dancer, or mad scientist heard our quarrel last night and thought it necessary to intervene.Indeed, as soon as Jack fell asleep last night, I secretly wished in the dark that he would try to spend the day as me.I wanted him to experience the agony of spending eight hours in meetings, talking on the phone, staring at budgets, and then coming home to fight with a bad boy.But I haven't considered our respective distribution after this wish is realized.Where would I go if Jack was going to occupy my body for a day?

—Of course it went into Jack's body.

I have made many wishes: more days off, a summer house, a dog, so that the 22-year-old Jack, who has escaped from school and parental control, will not kill himself on the way to his third year.So far, only the last one has come true.But Jack is only 24 years old now, so the jury is still out.

Why does the power in the dark only come to fulfill my wish?

Still at this time?

I have a ton of stuff to do: get my budget report done, hire new staff, make an outline for future training sessions... I've been busy doing these things for the past few weeks, but it seems like every time I finish one, Two new items will be filled out.

I really can't find time for this unholy miracle.

Maybe I'm dreaming.This dream seems very real, but if I'm patient enough, I'll wait until it's over.I close my eyes and pull the covers up to my chin.My arms rub against my waist, and my legs rub against each other.Jack's skin was impossibly smooth.Sometimes I am very curious, how he can't hold back his hands and feet.

Somebody poked me. "Uh... Jack?" That was my voice.I muttered a few words and buried myself deeper in the quilt.This is not true this is not true. "Jack!"

I'm not Jack, I'm Amon.

I am Amon who is occupying Jack's body.

Is Jack talking to me now with my body?If so, why wasn't he frightened?It occurred to me that maybe he had orchestrated all this to teach me a lesson.Maybe I lived with him for two years without realizing he was actually a wizard.

I put the pillow on my head, and I didn't quite understand what he said later, except that it was about the exam.

"Okay." I said impatiently.I desperately need him to shut up until I get this straightened out.

He leaves the room.I pushed the pillows back, sighed, stretched, and went back to sleep.I feel like I just dozed off for 30 seconds and then woke up again. "Hey! Do me a favor."

"Go away." I was very impatient, not pretending.I was exhausted, my body was sore and my head was throbbing.If Jack is taking over my body and trying to act like nothing happened, so be it.He wants to play, and I am happy to accompany him. "I get up when I'm so fucking ready."

I can feel him hovering beside me.I wondered if he was in the same warring mood as I usually do in the morning: wanting to give him a "good attitude" lesson. "Don't be late for class," he said at last.

I heard his footsteps drifting away from the bedroom.

It was 45:[-] when I woke up again.

I'm going to be late for work.I jumped out of bed, stumbling - the body was too nimble for me to get used to it.

I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.In the mirror is Jack's beautiful and bewildered face.How can I go to work with such a face?How can Jack go to school with my appearance?

I suddenly had a terrible idea.

What if Jack didn't go to school in my appearance?

What if Jack went to a place where people expected to see my face and body?

I thumped down the stairs. "Jack?" I yelled, running across the laundry room and opening the door to the garage.

My car is gone.

My brat drove my car away, most likely to my office.That is to say...

I can no longer dwell on what this means.I got A&L to go.

Alan Kingsmeow sleeps on the sofa in the living room.We've tried to stop him from doing this since he was a kitten, using everything from spray bottles to clinking coffee cans.Well, I was the one who tried to stop it from doing that.I suspect someone is actually abetting it.Jin Shimiao woke up and stared straight at me with its golden eyes.

"Jinshimeow, quiz in class," I said, "Where you sleep is, A. your cat's bed, B. on the windowsill, C—"

I suddenly realized what Jack was trying to tell me when I was half asleep.There was a test in his American literature class.He has the test every Wednesday.

And he wanted me to go to school to test for him.

Depend on.

His grades have dropped below the center of the earth in the past two days, and I can't let him fail this subject.But I'm pretty sure I can't let him run amok in my office either.

Let's say this literature class takes about an hour and is a 15-minute drive from Colonel Wellston to A&L.I can arrive at the office building at nine thirty.How much trouble can a brat cause in an hour and a half?

Jin Shimiao kept looking at me.It first let out a loud cry, and then continued to meow.If I had to anthropomorphize him, I would say that his meows are full of accusations. "Yeah, it's me," I said, "I just put on makeup."

I rushed back to the bedroom, hastily slipped on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans that would make Jack's ass look extra glamorous.I found Jack's phone on the nightstand over there.Is he holding my phone too?I sent a text message to my own number.

Are you at A&L?

I went downstairs again, straight to the garage. .

I just remembered that "I" don't have a car.

I'm going to school by bike.

I pushed Jack's bike out of the garage and thought of a possible dilemma: I, Amon, had never learned how to ride a bike.Is the method of cycling stored in the muscles or in the brain?Will the consciousness that I belong to Amon make Jack's body unable to ride a bicycle?Can Jack's excellent coordination overcome my clumsiness?

The answer is that both are a little bit right.It's easy to balance on the bike with Jack's body, but my brain has always been insecure about the body's movements.I wobble in the car and have to put my foot down every few seconds to make sure I stop when I want to.

Because I was in a hurry, I had to put my foot on the pedal and stepped up.I was delighted to realize that I had done it - I was actually riding a bike!A second later, I blundered into the Witchells' mailbox and fell to the ground.The Vecher family's Yorkshire terrier, Chloe, came barking at me.

I stood up and examined my borrowed body: a scrape on one forearm, a pink wound that hurt but showed no blood.The kneecap feels like it's missing half.There are blood stains on the trousers.I limped to the side of the bike, picked it up, shooed Kloe away, and moved on.

***

I got to school at 103:[-] and found I had no idea which building Jack's literature class was in.Barely holding my bike upright, I pulled out Jack's phone and clicked on his handheld navigation app.It took me a while to find his schedule.American Literature is in Room [-], Hadley Hall.

I rushed into the classroom at [-]:[-].The professor was a lean, wiry man with short gray hair.He gave me a critical look, which annoyed me.Compared to being looked at with disapproving eyes, I am more used to looking at others like this.

The test hasn't started yet, so I look around.Some students stared blankly at the front of the room, others rested their heads on their desks.The boy next to me held the rubber end of a pencil to his nose.

"... what rhyme?" the professor asked.

I smelled body odor and sniffed my armpits.It's not from me, but I do have a vague fear of bikes in me.

"Jack, what do you think?"

This teacher was clearly the type to call on your name for being late or distracted.

"Sorry, can you repeat the question?" I asked, suddenly realizing that I didn't bring my schoolbag, notebook, or pencil.

"What did Dickinson rhyme in the first stanza of 'I Heard the Buzzing of a Fly—When I Died'?"

Note ②: IheardaflybuzzwhenIdied, the work of American female poet Emily Dickinson.

I racked my brains.Dickinson... The only impression I have of Dickinson is that most of her poems can be sung in the tune of "Wabash Ball Express."

Note ③: Wabash Cannonball, an old American country song with a cheerful tone.

I remember Jack telling me one night not long ago that he was reading Dickinson for class and that he liked her.He did mention the rhyme she used.But what exactly was he talking about?I was busy arranging Bernard Wittmeyer's itinerary.

Come on, Amon, think hard.

Dickinson used a novel capitalization rule, Jack said.And... Xiaoyun?no, no...

"Slant rhyme," I replied, trying to sound less uncertain.

The professor nodded. "Thank you, Jack. I'm relieved that someone is paying attention."

I sat back in my seat, quite pleased with myself.I took a closer look at my classmates.God, they are so young.Have I ever been this young?Jealousy welled up in me.Yes, they have dull expressions and glazed eyes, and many of them are dressed in strange combinations of sweatshirts, pajama bottoms, and rain boots-but they are in the smooth-skinned and carefree youth. Beauty is hard.I suddenly felt old and out of place with them.

Then I remembered that this body of mine was just like theirs—and better.

I am young and beautiful.God, I'm still a blonde beauty.

I'm Jack.

I shook my head, shook my hair out of my eyes, and fought back the urge to grin.

***

I also had this old, out-of-date feeling when I met Jack two years ago.He served me twice as a waiter at a local sandwich shop, and I, Amon Monterrey, HR director for a top financial firm in the Tri-Cities area, couldn't look him in the eye.He is just so beautiful.In front of him, I was so ashamed.

He was polite and reserved the first time he entertained me.The second time, because he recognized me, he was bolder and thicker.No matter what the occasion, these natural "bear children" can't escape my eyes.The sour pickle in my Reuben sandwich keeps falling out because I'm always staring at him behind the counter, imagining what it would be like to have those full lips against mine, and I put him ass up The tiny movement of his abdominal muscles as his legs prepare to spank him.

I want to know if he is a virgin, has a boyfriend, has he ever had a D/s④ relationship?What noise does he make when he is whipped?Does he have family here?What colors, movies, restaurants does he like?What is his favorite way to be spoiled?How does he kiss?

Note ④: It is a Dom/sub type of communication relationship. The two parties do not necessarily have four-letter activities, but one of them must at least dominate the other party spiritually.

He looked up and saw me staring at him, and grinned at me.

Sour kimchi fell on my lap.

***

I moved around in my seat.

I need to go to the office urgently.If Jack is there, all I can imagine is the mess he's making in my work.If he wasn't there, Feldman would be wondering where the hell I was.I checked the time on my phone: 28:[-].Is this person going to let us take the exam?

The boy next to me leaned over.He wore a dirty peaked cap, and he was huge and fat as dough.I suddenly realized where the source of that smell was.He was literally like a sweaty fish. "When is the homework due?" He asked softly.

"I... I don't know." I replied.

"do not you know?"

I shook my head.

"You are an expert in this subject."

Am I?Jack never told me he liked American literature.

"Okay." The professor said while counting the test papers to be distributed to each group. "For the rest of the class, you have to complete this quiz. When you're done, hand over the test paper to me, and you can go."

I snatched the paper from the fat dough boy. "Excuse me, can I borrow a pen?" I asked.

"no problem."

Dough Man reached into his schoolbag and handed me a pen.There's a dry, hard thing on the cap that I suspect is booger.

The test questions are multiple choice.very good.I read the first question:

1. In "A Bird Walks Along the Path⑤", what did the bird do?

A. Perches on sun-dappled branches.

B. Eat earthworms.

C. Greet the morning with singing.

D. to build a nest.

Note ⑤: Abird came down the walk, a poem by Emily Dickinson.

First of all, what is A Bird Walking Along the Path?poetry?

Definitely a Dickinson poem.Novelty capitalization, that's what Jack said.

What the hell is "Earth Dragon"?

I chose "Earth Dragon" because it sounds the least disgustingly poetic.I think if Jack likes Dickinson's poetry, then she probably knows how to avoid writing that kind of sentimental content.

The rest of the questions were equally clear, either poetry or stories.Either I haven't read it, or I read it a long time ago and now forget it.My cats are named after a Beat poet.Then I really should study more literature.

I'm stumped on most of the questions.I frown at the thought of the scene where poor Jack gets his test results.

Forget it, anyway, he has become a habit of getting low marks in the exam.

This idea is cruel, but it is true.Jack always has trouble concentrating during exams.But looking back now, although there are exams every week, I have never heard him complain that this course is difficult.

I stared at the last question dumbly, and started to wander again.