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Available only on Body Swap Stories.

Carter and Katie are still sharing her body as she lives her life. All Carter can do is watch and guide her from inside. But when she struggles on a test, Carter figures out a way he can take control and help her out.

The longer he's stuck inside her mind, the more their emotions start to mingle. Acting on Carter's feelings, Katie does something impulsive...and wonderful...that could change her relationship with the another cheerleader permanently.

Katie and Carter will have to work together to get Carter out of her body before they alter each other for good.

This 9 page comic is in black and white and features art by Nally.

"Mother fucker!" Kevin cried, staring at the condom wrapper with the noticeable pinhole.
People became even more careful about protection when the Swap Virus started spreading. Unprotected sex with someone who had it would cause their partner to swap bodies within about six hours. It was irreversible after that. And there was always the evil minority who got their thrills by spreading the virus and causing chaos.A whole government department had been set up to sort out the ensuing identity messes.
Kevin had no idea that the woman he'd met at the club last night had been one one of those people. She hadn't said anything about having the virus and she seemed as careful as he did when she offered him one of the condoms she kept in her purse.
Now, in the cold light of day and standing naked in his living room as a blonde woman, Kevin could see he'd been duped. He dropped his pants to the floor and sat down heavily on the couch. His tits jiggled as he did so and he felt the difference of his padded ass, the emptiness between his legs, the smoothness of his thighs.
Kevin had gone to sleep with the woman but she'd disappeared with his body before he woke up. She must have planned it. He had no way to find her. He would have to go down to the government offices, admit what happened, and sign up as a swapped victim to try to clear up his identity before she stole everything he had.
Or...he could try to find a new body.

Jason grows more enchanted with being in his coworker's sexy MILF body, even as his hope of ever transforming back into his old self disappears in Double Trouble 2, available on Body Swap Stories, Smashwords or Amazon.

I can’t believe I’m standing here… my wife’s breasts on my chest… getting her mammogram… wearing her face and her tits. Having to use her ID and have everyone call me Elisabeth… She wanted me to understand what it’s like for her to have to do this… but the way she was stroking my… well.. HER cock as soon as she got in my body… the way she smirked when she dropped me off at the clinic… like she was free…

And like these are going to be mine to take care of for the rest of my life…

I remember there was a story posted here called My buddies sister Kaylee or something similar to that. I think the post with the li k to it has been deleted if it was for a particular reason that is controversial or something along those lines please let me know but if it was just deleted by the user if someone could possibly help me find it again it be much appreciated

http://patreon.com/RuinVS

A follow-up is available here, along with additional images.

---

The sheets are soaked through and I'm not hot.

Five days I've been a furnace, piling blankets on and shivering anyway, sweating through the same set of sheets twice because changing them meant standing up. Now the blankets are kicked half off and the room is cool on my skin and my head is clear. Clear, the way it is at 7 a.m. when the alarm goes off and I'm already halfway awake before it does.

Fever broke. I lie there a second and take inventory the way I do when I call in sick, which is almost never. Throat's raw but that's from breathing through my mouth all night. Back aches from lying down too long. Everything else reports in and reports fine.

I have to piss bad enough that it's what gets me up.

I sit up too fast and the room tilts a little, and I wait it out with my hands flat on the mattress. Five days flat, anybody gets light. My hair's stuck to my forehead with dried sweat and I push it off with the back of my wrist.

I stand.

Something's wrong before I see anything.

It's the boxers. They hang different. I've worn these same Hanes for years, they fit a certain way, and I know how my own shorts sit on me. The fit is off. Loose where it shouldn't be. And there's nothing resting against my thigh.

I've got a hand at the waistband before I decide to put it there.

Under my palm, through the cotton, it's flat. My fingers find the shape of it and it's not a shape I know. Soft. Warm, because I'm warm, fever-warm still maybe. But wrong. My dick isn't where my dick's supposed to be.

I don't look down.

At the door you watch the hands and the feet, never the thing you already know is there. My whole life it's been there and I've never had to check on it.

I'm still asleep. That's the first explanation and I try it on. Sometimes with the fever I'd surface halfway and dream the room, dream the bed, dream the glass of water on the nightstand I never got up to get. So maybe this is one of those, half in and half out, and the wrongness is dream-logic.

I count the sounds. Furnace clicking in the wall like it does every morning around this time. Guy upstairs running his shower. The dream doesn't usually do the furnace.

I'm still asleep, and I pinch the inside of my arm hard enough to hurt, and the hurt is a real hurt, the kind that stays.

Okay.

Fever. Fever does things. Fever and five days of sweats, and I've lost weight, I can feel it in how my stomach sits, there's less of me everywhere. Things shrink. Things pull in when a man's sick and lost weight. Swelling goes down. That's all this is, it's-

The cotton is against my fingers and there's a fold there, a seam of skin my fingers know isn't a seam, and my hand has stopped moving and my hand is shaking.

It's swelling. Some fevers put you in the hospital for that, swelling in the face, swelling in the - I try to make the sentence work and it won't, because swelling has a shape and this has the wrong shape, and somewhere in the back of my head a sentence is trying to start and I won't let it finish. It starts with the word that was on the notice at the club and I stop it at the first letter.

My heart is going hard enough that I can hear it. My mouth has that iron taste. I'm going to be sick, so I breathe through my nose and count the breaths, four in, hold, out, the way I do when a patron throws a punch and I've got three seconds to decide how it goes. One thing at a time. My legs are steady. My legs are fine.

I look down.

No.

I look down and it's there, and it's not mine, and there's hair, the same hair, same color, same pattern, trimmed down the way I keep it, and below that it's flat and it's different and there's nothing of me there. Nothing. The parts of me are gone and there's something in their place and I've touched enough of them to know a real one by the feel. This is real. It's not a trick of the light and it's not a dream and it's not swelling.

The room goes narrow for a second and I put a knee on the mattress.

Five days of fever. The lost weight. The tracer's voicemail I never played, sitting on my phone since Tuesday, Renee something, the county, saying call back. Sheena texting me from her own sickbed, did it get you. The notice at the club, taped up by the time clock.

I left it alone. I called it the flu. You get a fever in October, everybody's got a fever in October, you take the Tylenol and ride it out and don't call the county back, because the county doesn't need to be in your business over a flu.

The phone buzzes on the nightstand.

I don't pick it up. It buzzes again, twice, short, the way it does when the texts stack up, and I watch the screen light the ceiling and go dark.

My hand is still on the waistband of my boxers. I take it away. I put it back.

I should sit down. I should sit down before I fall down, and my body knows how to sit, and I get it to the edge of the mattress and I sit, and the sitting helps, and I put my head between my knees and breathe. The sheets smell like five days of sweat, sour, mine but rank. My feet are on the floor and cold. The whole room is cold now that the furnace's cycled off, and I'm shaking, and I tell myself it's the sweat drying.

Sweat drying on a body that just came off a five-day fever. Anybody would shake.

I need water. I'm dehydrated, my mouth is dry, and there's a glass on the nightstand I didn't fill last night, and the kitchen sink is twenty feet away. That's a thing I can do.

I get up.

My balance is off. Enough that I catch it wide, feet apart, and I stand there in the middle of my own bedroom in a soaked tank top and boxers that fit a stranger and I don't go to the kitchen.

I can't walk to the kitchen like this. Not because of the legs.

Because twenty feet is a long way to be alone with it, and the bathroom is closer, and the bathroom has a door that locks, and there's a mirror over the sink, and the next step, the only next step my head will hand me, is to find out what I'm working with. You work a problem at the door by finding out what it is. I walk up slow and get my eyes on it.

I get my hand back on the waistband and stand there. On the nightstand the phone lights up again, buzzing against the wood. I don't pick it up.

---

The light over the mirror hums when I flip the switch, the way it always has, and the fan comes on with its same rattle. Ordinary. The whole room is being ordinary at me.

I pull the tank top over my head and it sticks at the shoulders, sweat-glued, and peels off. The boxers next. I drop them on the floor and stand there out of everything and the tile is cold under my feet and the vent is blowing cold air down my back and I face the mirror.

Above the waist I'm still me. That lands first and it lands hard, a good kind of hard. The beard's scraggly from five days but it's my beard. The compass rose on my right forearm, 1955 on the left. Shoulders, chest, the gut gone in a little, ribs showing a shade more than they should. Thinner. But mine, head to waist, no question.

I step back until I'm off the sink and can see all of it.

The change starts at the waist. Same arms, same chest, same shoulders I've carried around for thirty-eight years, and between my legs, what's there now.

Okay. Inspection.

You get a pat-down and it's not personal, it's procedure, it's hands doing a job in a set order. You start at the collar and you work down. You find out what's there and then you know what you're dealing with. I've run my hands over ten thousand strangers looking for weapons. I can run them over myself.

I sit on the edge of the tub first, because standing with my legs apart isn't happening.

I start at the top. Hair, same hair, same pattern, same trim line I keep. That's almost worse, that it kept my work. Below it the skin is different skin, folded, closed, nothing hanging, nothing to adjust, and my thighs come together flat and my hand is shaking again and I tell it the room is cold, which it is.

Pat-down. Methodical. Outside first.

The outer lips, or whatever the word is, I'm not looking for the word, I'm looking for the facts. Skin. Warm. Soft in a way that has no give-back. No lumps, no swelling, nothing that says injury. I check the creases where legs meet body, the way you'd check a waistband. Normal skin. Tender, fever-tender maybe, everything on me is tender right now.

I work inward, slow, two fingers.

And that's where the inspection stops being an inspection.

Because it's sensitive, the way a burn is sensitive a week in, when the new skin is on, everything arriving too loud. My fingers move a quarter inch and the feeling goes up my spine, and my breath does something I didn't tell it to do. There's a spot at the top, small, and my fingers find it, and I take my hand away.

I take my hand away fast and sit there with both hands on the tub rim.

The locker room word comes up. It comes up easy. I get as far as the P.

No.

I don't use that word for this. That word belongs to other people, to the club, to things said across a bar at closing time. Not to me, not sitting on my own tub at eight in the morning. It's a word for a thing that isn't mine.

I stand up. My knees pop, both of them, my knees, thank God my knees. I don't look at the mirror again. I get my boxers off the floor and I don't put them on, I just hold them, because getting dressed is a plan and I don't have one yet.

I turn on the cold tap. The pipes knock, once, like always.

I put my hands under the water and hold them there, the backs and the palms, and the cold climbs up my wrists, and it's the best thing I've felt in five days.

I keep them under until they hurt.

---

I drink the water. Two glasses, standing at the sink. I eat half a piece of toast because I need something, and it tastes like cardboard, and I eat it anyway. The phone sits on the counter where I put it, face down.

Around eleven I turn it over.

The voicemail's from Tuesday, the tracer, Renee Talbot, county health department, forty seconds of it. I don't play it. I know what it says. It's been saying it all week while I called it the flu.

Sheena texted Thursday night. did it get you? call me. Three words and a demand, very Sheena. She thinks she has it, she's asking because she already knows the answer. I don't answer.

Luis, this morning: slammed tonight. you in or what

No punctuation, no question mark, because a question mark would be effort.

I set the phone down and look at the chair. My work clothes are folded on it where they always are, the black shirt with SECURITY across the back, the Wranglers, the belt coiled on top. Six days they've sat there. They look the same as always. The belt is the same belt it's been for ten years.

So it comes down to this. I can stay here with the phone and the ceiling and the whole day ahead of me and nothing to do but think, or I can stand at a door where there's a line and a count and a rope and I know every single thing about how it goes. At the door I know what I am.

I pick up the phone and type yeah and send it before anything in my head can vote.

The jeans go on and they hang off me. The 36 waist sits loose all the way around, gaps at the small of my back, and I hitch them up like they're borrowed. Which they're not. They're mine. The weight is what did it.

The shirt's fine. Big on me now but the shirt was always big.

The belt. I pull it through the loops the way I've done a thousand mornings, and I pull the tongue past the fourth hole, past the fifth, all the way out to the last one. The leather's never been bent there. It's stiff and it fights the buckle a second before the pin seats.

I look at the buckle in the mirror over the dresser. Plain steel, worn dull at the corners.

I put the phone in my pocket and turn off the light.

---

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Riley and June woke up simultaneously as the sun spilled through the window and onto their bed. It was the first morning in weeks that they had their apartment to themselves, and they soaked in the intimacy of the quiet stillness.

June’s friend Becky had been a perfectly pleasant and gracious houseguest for the two weeks she stayed with them. She was good company, fun to be around, and helpful around the kitchen. She held herself to the “campsite” ethos of leaving every place she stayed better than she found it. And yet, when she left them the night before to catch a flight back to Paris, all three of them—hosts and guest alike—felt the time was right.

Riley and June had passed their “newlywed” stage well before Becky’s arrival, and they had lived together for years before their wedding in any event. They could stand a couple dry weeks for the sake of a good friend. All the same, when their eyes met that morning, they felt the same immediate need to make up for lost time. 

Their bodies snapped together like puzzle pieces. Their arms and legs instantly intertwined and explored each other’s surfaces, and their lips quickly followed. Their mouths watered for each other. Their tongues lapped and swirled inside each other. Their torsos compressed like two bodies aiming to become one.

Riley pulled back first to take in the full beauty of his wife’s face. Her hazel eyes and brunette bob. She stared back into his green eyes and admired his brown, shoulder-length locks. A silent agreement passed between them, to take it slow and soak in every moment. He caressed her body from hips to shoulder and back again over her gray flannel pajamas. She rubbed his chest over his turquoise silk gown.

They’d decided before Becky arrived to let their little experiment continue through her visit. In fact, it was hardly a decision they had to make. Riley knew that June was at least as eager to showcase the results of her work to her closest friend in their PhD program as she was to complete her dissertation based on the same experiment. For his part, Riley didn’t mind at all being her prize possession, her trophy husband, hers to show off with pride.

And so, Becky was aware even before arriving that Riley had undergone hypnotic therapy designed and administered by June. She knew that, as a result, Riley had adopted an almost entirely feminine-presenting wardrobe in place of his (quote-unquote) men’s clothing. 

He was male-presenting whenever he left the apartment and a cis straight man in all other respects. But through June’s hypnotic suggestions, he had lost all apprehensions as a cis straight man over wearing (quote-unquote) women’s clothing. (“They’re not women’s clothes,” he said to Becky. “They’re my clothes.”) The experiment supported her dissertation on the arbitrary nature of gendered clothing and the potential for behavior modification through hypnosis. It also had other side effects that did not make it into her dissertation.

Riley had no hesitation about bringing Becky into the circle. She’d been a close friend of June’s for long enough to feel almost like family. However, June and Riley did agree that Becky (like family) didn’t need to know everything. They could leave out the side effects.

They agreed, for example, that she didn’t need to know that Riley had decided to wear a chastity cage through most of the experiment. And (they agreed) she didn’t need to know how June’s hypnotic suggestions also lowered certain inhibitions on Riley’s part. 

It was enough that she could see just how comfortable Riley was, how effectively June’s hypnotic treatments had subtly but distinctly rewired him. “You know, I was expecting something between Tootsie and To Wong Foo, real performative like,” Becky said to June the first night of her stay, “but he seems just the same. Just Riley in a skirt and blouse, dressing like that because that’s how he dresses.” June hit the table when she said that and yelled, “That’s the idea! Thank you!”

Now, Becky was gone, June had completed her dissertation, and there they were. Husband and wife.

“Just the two of us again,” Riley said, trippingly.

“Yep,” replied June with an extra pop on the “p.” “Well, for now at least…”

“Yeah, for now.” 

Around the time that Riley and June agreed to be exclusive, they had worked out a roadmap for their lives. The steps were laid out with deliberate intentions. Living together allowed them to share expenses and save for their wedding. That was Stage One. The wedding was timed to follow the defense of June’s dissertation while Riley found his stride at the advertising firm. Stage Two. Now, with the wedding behind them and certain professional steps taken, Stage Three was in sight.

“Think we’re ready?” Riley’s tone was whimsical, but the question was serious. “It is pretty nice to have a quiet apartment all to ourselves.”

“Yeah,” June said, meeting Riley where he was, “and a baby isn’t a houseguest. They tend to stick around for more than a couple of weeks.”

“There’s that, on the one hand. And on the other hand…” He finished his thought by putting his hands together near his chest, cradling an imaginary being. June mirrored his motions, and they said in unison: “Baby!”

They shared a moment of anticipation and trepidation until one of them said it, just as they’d been saying it whenever this particular topic came up.

“Just not yet,” said Riley this time.

“Yeah.” June let her inner conflict quiet itself as she returned her hands to the silk fabric covering her husband’s torso. A question had been hovering in the back of her mind, and since she couldn’t hold it back anymore, she decided the time must be right to let it out. “Riley, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” The gleam in his eye and the little smile on his mouth when he spoke made her melt.

“…now that we’ve—or at least I’ve—gotten what I needed out of this whole, you know…” Riley nodded, following what she was saying. “Do you want me to … un-trigger you?”

“You mean, reverse the treatment? Reset me back to, I don’t want to say ‘normal,” but—"

“Yeah.” 

June didn’t like the word “normal” in this context either, or maybe in any context. It bumped up against her training as a psychologist (and her worldview in general).

Riley raised his eyebrows and turned over onto his back to stare at the ceiling and think. He looked down at the turquoise gown he’d taken to wearing most nights, and then he looked at his wife’s grayscale-toned flannel pajamas. Something he’d noticed over the past few months is that, as his wardrobe and preferences veered deeper into the feminine, June’s style seemed to veer into the masculine. He wondered how conscious that shift was on her part, or if he was imagining it.

“I don’t know if I want to undo anything,” he said, scratching his head in thought.

“Don’t think of it as ‘undoing.’ It’s not like I’d take anything away from you. I was just wondering if any part of your parenthood anxiety had to do with … you know.”

“Oh,” Riley propped himself up by his elbows to weigh the point. It wasn’t the first time he considered it, but it hit differently when she said it out loud. “I guess I have a few thoughts.” June propped herself up with deep interest. “On the one hand, it’s Portland. Our kid—our kids—will see every kind of gender presentation out there. I don’t think they’d see ‘daddy in a dress’ as the least bit weird. On the other hand, setting Becky aside, this has been a pretty private thing between you and me, and that doesn’t have to change even with kids. We can still have private time. And, well … it’s not like I can’t just, you know, dress however I want to dress. Sometimes this way, sometimes that.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” June said, nodding to every point he made.

“What do you think? Would it bother you if I dressed like this around the kids?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” June snapped in a theatrical rebuttal, “I only defended a thesis you could sum up with the line ‘clothes have no inherent gender, it’s all perception and programming.’”

Riley chuckled and smiled. He loved her energy and her attitude, even if he knew that life wasn’t always so simple beyond the borders of a university campus. Even in Portland. And he knew that she knew it, too. After all, he’d never left the house in anything but male-presenting clothes, and she never expected him to.

“I mean, it’s not like I have any other mental blocks, nothing I don’t know about, right? If I want to go back to my old wardrobe, I can just do it!” Riley jumped out of bed with the momentum of purpose, shaking his body to smooth and loosen his gown down to his ankles. “Your whole process ended a while ago. I’m aware of the triggers and their effects. So, I can make conscious choices for myself, right?”

“Sure,” June agreed, not entirely sure where her husband’s train of thought was leading.

Riley entered the closet and pulled out a dusty wardrobe box from the top shelf. He set the box down, opened the lid, and proceeded to remove his turquoise gown and red boyshort underwear.

“If you’re going to strip for me, at least do it to music!” June grabbed her phone from the bedside table to find a suitable song. “Oh, a text from Becky! It says, ‘Check the playlists in your music app.’” June unlocked her phone and opened the app as Becky’s text instructed. 

“Huh.”

“What’s there?” her naked husband asked.

“There’s … hold on … there’s a new playlist on my phone just titled ‘Play Me.’ Okay then.” She hit play, and the first track was an audio recording from Becky.

“Hey guys!” the recording said, “Just wanted to say it was an incredible two weeks, and I can’t thank you enough for putting me up and for putting up with me. Anyways, now you two need to catch up, and I hope this sets the mood right.”

As Becky’s recording played, Riley had pulled out and put on a pair of black and white-striped boxers and a gray men’s undershirt. He looked down and stood in an arms-out pose for June to see.

“Huh,” he said, sounding and feeling nondescript. “Is this normal?”

“I guess, yeah,” June agreed, both in tone and in sentiment.

The playlist continued, and the bedroom filled with the sound of Prince singing, “Here we are folks, the dream we all dream of… boys versus girls in the World Series of Love.”

The timeless groove of “U Got the Look” shifted the vibe of the room in an instant. They both felt a jolt through their body, and they could tell from the look in each other’s eyes that the feeling was mutual.

“Purple.” 

The word fell spontaneously out of June’s mouth. She wasn’t even sure why she said it, other than the obvious association with the Artist Formerly Known As. But the word unleashed something in her mind’s eye, and that something formed a clear picture. “Could you wear the purple set instead today. Just today, and we can decide another time if … you know.”

“Yeah,” Riley agreed, happy to throw off his old clothes, toss them back in the box, and shift over to his dresser. Pulling from the top and the fourth drawers, he retrieved a custom-fitted purple mesh balconette bra and a matching pair of purple mesh panties.

“The whole set,” June burst out, almost involuntarily. “Everything. The purple set.”

“The whole whole set? Everything that we—”

“YES!” June insisted, slapping the sheets with both hands to make herself clear. “EVERYTHING!” 

“Okay, everything that goes with it,” Riley replied with a compliant chuckle. The whole whole set involved pulling open another drawer and returning to their closet for another box, a special box tucked away out of sight on the floor. Riley stood behind the open closet door, just outside of June’s view for the final steps. But she could hear the clips and snaps of the ensemble coming together. When he was done, he turned around to give his wife what she demanded.

He stood upright, back straight and hands on his hips, in the middle of their shag carpet. The bra and panty set fit his curves perfectly. The matching garter held up the black thigh-high stockings that encased his smooth and well-toned legs. And completing the look, something else peaked out from the waistband of the panties and garter belt.

“Fuck, you look amazing,” June said as Sheena Easten agreed over the mobile phone speaker: “Sure enough to be cookin' in my book.”

“Well, what were you expecting?” Riley asked, cocksure and well aware that he had the look.

And right then, in that moment, something snapped inside of June. Her eyes fixed on Riley with a raw intensity that he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, not in his recently betrothed wife and not in any previous lover of his. 

The look in her eyes made him quiver. He almost flinched in a fight-or-flight reflex, but before he had the chance, she threw back the covers of their bed and leaped up to grab his face in both of her hands.

Her lips pressed into his with animalistic fury, nearly bumping teeth and pushing him backward. He pushed back with equal force, if only to avoid tumbling to the ground. Her hands reached around to his back and clawed downward from the top of his shoulder, over the band of his bra, to his hips. Her mouth moved around his face, kissing one cheek and then the other before moving to his ear. She sucked and nibbled his right earlobe, holding herself back from biting off a piece of his flesh.

“Take me.” Her words were pure passion but also a plea of sorts. She felt a desperate need in her gut that she couldn’t articulate. She could feel something inside of her, an emptiness that was also somehow a pressure. A bubble that could only be popped from the inside, by a forceful insertion through the nearest point of entry. 

“Now, take me now.”

She sunk her nails into his shoulder blades and pulled him toward her as she moved backward and fell onto their bed. He fell forward with her, breaking his fall with his hands on the mattress. He pulled down his panties to bring his equipment out in full. She frantically pulled at her own flannel pants and her full-cut briefs. He slithered down her body to assist her with the process, removing her bottom clothes and exposing her midsection. 

He was inches from her, and her aroma engulfed him like never before. The scent was different, stronger somehow. He tried to spread her thighs to taste her, but she grabbed him by the ears before his tongue could make contact.

“No, no. Inside me. Right now!” She was already panting, already spitting words out between breaths.

He obliged her, climbing back on top of her and sliding into her without effort. She had gushed to a degree he didn’t know was possible. She was a pool. At the same time, her muscles clenched around him as he entered, making each thrust a satisfying exercise in tension and release. Over and over again.

“Harder, faster!” she yelled. He grabbed her legs and slung one and the other over his two shoulders, bracing his feet to the ground and charging into her with the full force of his quadriceps. “Keep going, don’t stop!” He had no intention of stopping. He could do this all day, for as long as she could take it.

Soon, she used her arms to inch her body away from him and off of him, so that she could flip herself over into a downward-facing position, exposing herself to him with her legs spread wide.

“More, now!” she commanded, and he complied. As soon as his hands touched her hips to grab hold and position himself for reentry, she slammed her backside into him with all her strength. He held his position while she pounded her ass into his pelvis, alternating speeds at times but mostly going as fast as her muscles could stand. Sweat was beading down both of their bodies. Their exertion was also their aphrodisiac, a perfect circle of desire and exhaustion. He wondered briefly if they could do this forever.

At that same moment, June reached out in a desperate grab for the drawer of the nearest bedside table.

“Here,” Riley offered, stretching out his hand to see if he had a better chance of reaching the handle.

“No, no, stay there!”, June commanded. Her fingertips just barely reached the handle, and she yanked open the drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out a silver bullet, deftly switched it on with one hand, and set the vibration to high. With one hand propping her up to continue her thrusts, her other hand reached between her legs, swirling and pressing the bullet to her clitoris.

The scream she let out was the sound of weeks of sexual desire pent up inside of her. Her orgasm continued until she ran out of breath, and then it continued some more until she collapsed forward, off the fixed piston that was her husband and into a puddle atop their sweat-soaked sheets.

“Fuck,” she muttered between panting breaths, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Wow.” Riley sat down next to her to stroke her arched back. “Where did that come from?”

The room was suddenly quiet again, except for the sounds of their lungs. The silence was brief. The playlist moved on to “When Doves Cry.” It seemed Becky had programmed a “greatest hits” for them.

“I don’t know,” June gasped, still catching her breath, “I had the sudden overwhelming sensation that I was … um … ovulating.” She said the last word softly, blushing as it stuttered out of her mouth.

“Oh,” Riley replied, taken aback and pondering for a moment. “You can feel that?”

“I don’t know.” June continued gasping. “Some women say they do? I’m not sure if that was it. I only know I needed you to fill me up, like right then and there.”

“Oh, well,” Riley said with a smirk, “I wasn’t going to do that. Fill you up that way, I mean. Not with this.” He held open his hands on either side of his hip, revealing the harness wrapped around his hips and the purple phallus positioned right above the black chastity cage that he wore over his penis.

“You had a strap-on?!?”

Riley’s face scrunched in sheer confusion, and he looked around the room as if he wasn’t sure who she was asking.

“You didn’t know?!?”

“NO!” June was mystified. “YOU WERE STILL CAGED?!?”

“You knew that! It was on all night!”

“I forgot!” June cried in shock, covering her face with her hands. “I… wasn’t thinking!”

 “Obviously!” Riley said with a laugh. “I mean, with your clit maybe!”

June flopped her head backward and let out a shameful groan.

“You said to put on the whole set. Everything that went with it. We bought all of this together, remember?!?” 

June sat back up, sneered at Riley, and threw a pillow at him. It was her tell that she knew he was right, that they were moving on, and that he must never rub it in her face.

“Well, at least we put it to good use!” she said, putting a cap on the morning’s strange sequence of events. He laughed in agreement and bounced onto the mattress next to her. 

“So do you want me to…?”

She didn’t need to complete the question. He shook his head, showing his appreciation for the offer on his face. But he was fully content in that moment to enjoy her enjoyment and absorb some of her afterglow. After a moment, he rolled off to remove the harness and set it on top of the box by the closet.

“I assume I won’t be needing that again,” he said in a self-satisfied tone. “But I think I’ll keep the rest of the set on. For today at least. I can work from home, and a set this nice deserves more than a wham-bam-thank-you-sir.”

June laughed and nodded. “Just be sure to give it the proper outerwear if you’re working from home.”

“Oh, so now it’s a formal dress work-from-home day? Okay, but that means you, too. I’m not going to be my office attire sitting on the couch next to you in last night’s PJs.”

“The green wrap dress is there,” said June, pointing helpfully towards the right side of the closet. 

“You have a preference, I take it?”

“It sets off your eyes nicely.”

“Noted. Any other suggestions?”

“The dress works well with the patent leather pumps.” She sat up in bed, legs crossed, with her chin on her hands, folded in front of her. “The black BOSS heels. They really show off your calves.”

“Duly noted, and I will take that into consideration,” Riley sighed in resignation, reaching towards the right end of the closet, adding, “And you know this calls for accessories.” June nodded with a goofy grin as he pulled open a jewelry box on a closet shelf to grab a necklace and a matching set of bracelets.

Completing the outfit with the aforementioned pumps, he presented himself for his stylist’s approval. She responded with a polite clapping of her hands, to which he gave a dignified bow. The exchange of appreciation was performed to the sounds of “Starfish and Coffee” off the Sign O’ The Times album.

“I’ll get breakfast started.”

“I’ll get dressed!”

As Riley stepped primly heel-to-toe towards the hallway, June leaned forward to follow his path with her eyes.

“You know, I hate to see you go, but I looooooove—”

“Alright, alright!” he yelled at this catcaller on his way to the kitchen. “Just get dressed!”

Breakfast consisted of toasted sourdough bread, scrambled eggs, and freshly squeezed orange juice. The meal was prepared to the sound of “Take Me With U”, sung this time as a duet between the High Priest of Pop and the woman of the house. 

The table was set, and Riley returned to the bedroom to interrupt the performance. There he found a certain sky-blue slim-fit suit of his hanging loosely off the frame of a certain hypnotherapist he knew. Her shoulders were hunched, her knees locked together, her feet spread in a rock-and-roll pose, and her head bent down over a hairbrush standing in for a microphone.

“Honey, take me with you! Woo-hoo-hoo!” 

Riley applauded, and June yelped as she spun around. 

“Jesus, you scared me!”

She had indeed assembled her own office attire for the day, consisting of his two-piece suit and a white button-up shirt loose at the collar. The belt didn’t quite hold the pants in place, and the arms of the suit dangled an inch past her wrists, giving her the overall appearance of a kid rummaging through her dad’s closet.

“Come on, Princess,” he said to her, “breakfast is waiting.”

Before she could take another step, the opening chords of “Purple Rain” burst out of her phone. The dulcet tones locked their bodies in place and their eyes on each other. They couldn’t leave the room if they wanted to, but there was only one direction either of them wanted to go.

By the time Prince sang, “I never meant to cause you any sorrow,” June’s arms were around Riley’s waist, and his arms were over her shoulders. They rocked and swayed around the room, just as they had in the last dance of their wedding night to this very song. Their bodies moved closer and closer with each step and sway to the beat. By the time Prince saw his object of devotion laughing, June’s head was on Riley’s chest.

“This is great,” June cooed. “Remind me to thank Becky for this.”

“Yeah,” Riley agreed. “Seems like this, ah, has you pretty excited.”

“Uh huh…” 

Riley felt a stiffness pressing against his pelvis, something hiding in the pants June had borrowed. Apparently, that wasn’t all she had borrowed from him. June lifted her mouth towards Riley’s ear and whispered, “When you’re looking that hot, what were you expecting?”

Her words set off a firecracker in his brain. Every nerve ending in Riley’s body activated simultaneously, every muscle froze in place, and his eyes dilated. He put his hands on June’s shoulders and nudged her backward a step away from him.

“You okay, babe?” 

For a moment, she worried that he was having a stroke. Then he suddenly fell to his knees in a single, graceful motion and lunged for the buckle of June’s belt. 

“Ooookay.” 

She was growing less concerned that it was a stroke and more intrigued to see where this was going. Meanwhile, Riley fumbled with the belt strap and the fly of his own pants with the manic energy of a teenage boy unclasping a bra on prom night. The bracelets on his wrists made a twinkling sound like a wind chime as they rattled.

“Do you need a hand with—okay, there you go!” 

He succeeded at last and yanked down both the pants and the black and white striped boxers she had pulled from the closet to reveal a familiar purple object that had become a third member of their marriage that morning. 

“Yeah, there it is,” she purred, reflecting the energy she felt vibrating off her husband.

Riley grabbed her attachment at the base and wrapped his lips around the head, bringing his mouth down on it until it hit his palate. To his delight, it tasted of June from their previous intercourse. He sucked as hard as he could to draw out her flavor while shifting his hand and his head to get the shaft as far into his mouth as possible.

“Okay, get it, boy,” June encouraged him, resting one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head.  “Take it all, that’s right.”

His rhythmic motion and muffled groans made her body tingle and her blood shift around inside of her. She almost wondered if she felt a phantom limb between her legs, or if he had simply awakened her imagination into exciting new places. 

Either way, she swore she could feel his lips, the suction of his mouth, the wetness of his tongue as he worshipped her cock.

He went as far as he could with his hand on the shaft, so he moved his hands to grab her hips and pull her toward him and down his throat. When the head of her phallus hit the back of his throat, he gagged and recoiled.

“Oh, are you—” June got as far as saying before he dove back in and overcame his reflex. “Holy shit!” 

When his lips reached the harness, she felt both impressed and genuine pride in his accomplishment.

He pulled back again to catch his breath. Drool spilled out of his mouth at both ends, but he didn’t waste a second wiping it off. He lept to his feet instead, stepped past his wife to the bed, and bent over with his hands on the mattress.

“I need you to take me. Right now. Get the lube.” His voice was urgent, almost panicked.

“Oh! Okay!” June rushed to meet the moment, shuffling as fast as she could to the bedside drawer with her pants around her ankles. Meanwhile, Riley reached one hand down and under his wrap dress, searching for a place to hook his fingers to de-brief himself.

“Let me help you with that, dear,” she said softly as she lifted his dress up to reveal his mesh-covered ass. She pulled down his panties, and, retrieving the bottle from under her arm, she gave a generous pour to both her purple member and the fingers of her left hand. He gingerly stepped out of the panties so that he could spread his legs while she explored his opening with her lubricated fingers. 

One finger, slowly. And then two. And then—

“You’re good, I’m ready, just go!”

She obliged him, holding him still by the hip with one hand and positioning herself to enter him with the other. She started slow, letting his muscles relax and listening as his breaths grew slower and deeper. With each exhale, she pushed herself further into him. She recognized his rhythms. She could read every signal. She knew him, truly inside and out, and she knew just what he could take.

“Now, now, I’m ready,” he insisted. Sooner and faster than she expected. His legs twitched and his torso vibrated. She didn’t know if he really was as ready as he said, but she worried that teasing him any further would send him into seizures.

She knew what it felt like to need that release more than life itself. She was ready to give him what he needed, whatever the fallout.

She hooked her hands into his garter belt like a bridle and began thrusting, pounding into him. He moaned every time her pelvis hit his cheeks. The sound from his mouth was a perfect blend of pleasure and pain, punctuated with gasps of “Yes”, “Yes”, “There”, “Yes!”

At a certain point, right when June worried she might pass out from the aerobics, Riley dramatically arched his back, lifted his backside into the air, and pushed himself even harder onto her. He let out a groan as she hit a particular spot that he’d been seeking deep inside of him. Then, every muscle in his body simultaneously released and relaxed.

June instinctively grabbed onto his hips to hold him in place lest she exit him too quickly. Moving one hand to the tail of his spine to steady him, she pulled back slowly, slowly, and steadily, until she could feel his sphincter close over the tip of her.

Riley crashed forward onto the bed, his seamed-stocking legs bent at the knee and his patent leather pumps sticking straight up into the air, and his arms bent into a little teapot, short and stout. His head turned to one side, revealing a look of utter devastation and complete satisfaction.

Prince cooed and climaxed, and then the playlist came to an end. 

The room was quiet again.

“Let me guess,” June said, pulling her pants back up and positioning herself on the bed for the aftercare, “you—”

“I needed you inside of me like my goddamn life depended on it. And no matter how much you filled me up, it wasn’t enough.”

“Uh huh.”

“I … I think I wanted you to knock me up.”

“Huh. Interesting.” A theory was forming in her head. “So, can I assume you…?” June asked, half-joking but also eager for validation.

“We’ll need to dry clean a few things,” he answered her, panting with every word. “The sheets. The shag carpet. This elegant wrap dress you’re so fond of.”

“Or maybe I keep that one ‘as is” as a trophy,” she said as she slithered beside him and rubbed his back.

“Ooookay, wake up, babes.” Becky’s voice burst out of June’s phone. The playlist had one track left, another recording from their erstwhile guest. “If I timed this right, then your breakfast is probably getting cold right now. Join me in the kitchen.”

June and Riley looked at each other with identical expressions of shock. Eyebrows raised, eyes spiked open, and mouths gaping. “Oh shit!” they said in unison, and together they bounced from their bed into the kitchen.

There, in addition to the breakfast plates cooling on the table, they saw June’s iPad with a Post-It note on it that said in a familiar script, “Check your video files.” Riley turned on the device, looked in the video folder, and saw a file titled “Play Me… After.” 

They sat down at the table, propped the tablet against a fruit bowl, and hit play. There, as if sitting across the table from them, was Becky. From the lack of sunlight coming in through the kitchen window behind her, it must have been recorded before she left the night before.

“Wake up, babes! Now, the next time I say that, I will—” Becky snapped her fingers “—and that will bring it all back to you. You two were the most incredible hosts a person could hope for. There’s no way I could repay you for the last two weeks. So, instead of trying with something silly like money, I left you with a gift. Before I explain, let me just say one more time how grateful I am to be invited into your little circle. Thank you for sharing Riley’s incredible journey and June’s remarkable methods. Riley, you look incredible, and I can only hope to find a man who can pull off your looks and your confidence. June, you are a genius and a visionary. A revolutionary! I very much want you two to have as many babies as possible. Spread those genes! Which brings me to my gift…”

“Oh god,” Riley muttered, reaching for June’s hand as she did the same.

“Oh yeah,” she muttered in return. 

“…if you remember that second night after I arrived … the night that we got, well, preeeeetty—”

“High”, they said in unison.

“—yeah, that. Well, I think you shared a little more with me than you initially planned. That got the stoned-ass wheels in my mind a turnin’, and well, I think I figured out a solution to your baby-making anxieties. You had a mental block. Performance issues, you might say. You were—you are—both ready to take that step, but you’re both nervous. As any two sane adults bringing a new life into this world should be! But for fucks sake, people, the world needs you to breed!”

Riley and June turned to each other, each blushing a matching shade of red.

“So…. we agreed …” Suddenly, Becky’s hand reached out to grab the tablet, and the camera rotated until the recording included June and Riley from last night. “… that you needed a little help turning off your brain and letting your base instincts run wild.”

“Hi, us!” June-and-Riley-from-last-night yelled in unison and waved into the camera, greeting themselves sitting across the table from them in the present. “We are both fully on board, of sound mind and body, yadda yadda yadda.” 

“Hope we had fun!” June added, and the camera rotated again until it was just Becky in the frame.

“We made good use of the two weeks,” Becky continued, “and we hope you’re not sore, except in all the right ways.” An orange suddenly flew into the screen, presumably from June-from-last-night offscreen. “And if everything worked out, then maybe now you can guess at least one of the triggered words I planted…”

The couple turned to each other, each squinting as they thought about it, and each landing on the answer at the same time.

“Expecting!” they yelled in unison, together with Becky on screen.

“So, if everything went as planned, then all I have left to say is…” And together with a snap of her fingers, Becky repeated the words, “Wake up, babes!” The trigger worked. Their memories returned in full, and they turned to each other as if locking eyes for the first time that day. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go hypnotize myself into forgetting all the crazy shit you told me about your private time. Just kidding! Keep it weird, you sickos! Goodbye!”

The video ended, the silence returned, and they basked in all of the morning’s revelations. And when the moment passed, they reached the same conclusion, communicated with a gleam in their eyes and a twitch of their lips.

Their breakfast was going to get cold. Their bed was waiting. They were ready to begin.

DA

[m4F] (m4M | m4F | m4A) I wake up in a Clinic, and they are ready to totally convert me to the dumbest and depraved looking Bimbo I never asked to be! (M2F4A/GM | more in body)

\\# Focus on the transformation! Short term / one shot

Please read the whole post.

Male to Female | Male looking for Any | Male looking for Male/Futa | Male looking for Female/Futa

I wake up to the sound of something wet and mechanical and the feeling of pressure between my thighs. I try to move, but nothing happens. My whole body is paralyzed. Luckily there is a mirror in front of me, although I am not sure “lucky” is the right word. A machine is working between my legs ravaging my formerly virgin Ass. Nearby, a surgeon casually prepares implants, fillers, Botox and all kinds of other shit. It does not take long to figure out what is happening. I am about to get completely bimbofied, and I definitely never asked for it.

I cannot move and I cannot scream. All I manage is a single pathetic moan. The surgeon looks up, notices that I am awake and grins. “He is awake... we can start!”

And then they do. This is not some little makeover or a couple of fillers. I am getting the full fucking treatment in one go. Surgery, implants, ridiculous lips, an exaggerated body, hair, makeup, nails and whatever else they decide needs changing, even labiaplasty or do they just make my Dick tiny?. The whole thing happens as one long procedure, and every time I think they must be done, something else gets changed. By the time they finally finish, no one looking at me would ever guess who I used to be.

Hey there! I am looking to play both the transformation and the aftermath of turning a normal girl into an absolute bimbo fuckdoll. The transformation itself is the main focus and should actually be played out instead of skipped over.

This is also not meant to be a slow bimbofication and gender change happening over months, years or several appointments. I want the entire thing to happen in one continuous RP session, with one sudden and drastic transformation completely fucking up his old appearance in a single go. He does not even have to end up looking conventionally good. Trashy, artificial, ridiculously overdone or outright uglified works perfectly fine as long as the final result screams extreme bimbo.

Hit me up with the following word: Machtausgleich

\\# Kinks / Themes

\\\* GENDER CHANGE

\\\* Bimboification

\\\* Hyperfemininity

\\\* Extreme Plastic Surgery

\\\* Breast Expansion

\\\* Oversized Breasts

\\\* Lip Fillers

\\\* Body Modification

\\\* Impossible Proportions

\\\* Uglification

\\\* Heavy Makeup

\\\* Tight Clothing

\\\* Narcissism

\\\* Mirror Obsession

\\\* Transformation Addiction

\\\* Hypersexuality

\\\* Exhibitionism

\\\* Objectification

\\\* Degradation

\\\* Dirty Talk

\\\* Rough Sex

\\\* Submission

\\\* Restraints

\\\* Toy Use

\\\* Permanent Changes

\\# Limits

\\\* Scat

\\\* Watersports

\\\* Feet

\\\* Rimming

<<<Back

DA

Hello,

I thought I'd ask for/share advice and share any queries related to getting more eyes on our books. I thought it would be a good idea to ask on here, as our books fit a niche that other writing or self-publishing subreddits might not be into.

As for me, with regards to social media, I've tried Facebook, Twitter, and Bluesky. Bluesky, with the right hashtags, is the best of the three, as many potential readers are there. DeviantArt can also be good.

Paid ads - haven't tried them yet. I suspect the genre is too niche for them.

I used Fussy Librarian to list one of my books when I made it free for a week (in their LGBT section). It cost about 17 dollars and resulted in hundreds of downloads - not as many sales of my other books as I had hoped, but enough to recoup my small investment along with a small profit, and the free book ended up getting several good reviews and ratings on Amazon and Goodreads, so it was worth it. Free Booksy and Book Bub are newsletters offering similar services I haven't tried yet. If the main theme of your book is a gender change but the setting might suit fantasy or another genre better, do you still use the LGBT category?

So, that's my experience so far. If any other authors or readers wish to share or ask anything, feel free!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Juliet-Benson/author/B0CBYKZR91

Part 1:
https://www.reddit.com/r/genderotica/s/LI3zdvaz31

Part 2 alternate path:
https://www.reddit.com/r/genderotica/s/uUXFXHBIjB

Part 3: Alternate path:
https://www.reddit.com/r/genderotica/s/xtNqERhHKN

Part 4: Alternate path:

https://www.reddit.com/r/genderotica/s/K9w4Z1j57P

Part 5: Don’t cry over spilt cum

I awoke to the sunlight beaming through my bedroom window. Groggy and confused I stretched and rubbed at my eyes. Something felt heavy on my chest and well… my whole body. I felt oddly bigger and smaller in my bed. With my eyes still half closed I rubbed at my chest and stopped abruptly as I felt my huge tits instead of my normal chiseled chest.

My eyes sprung open and I was greeted to a vision of my curvy pale skinned female body. I was Charlie. I didn’t remember turning into Charlie. A pang of panic ran through me. I quickly checked the bed to see if it was just covered in cum. Maybe I had pressed the button and then passed out. But the bed was clean. Then it started to come back to me.

I had shown Stacey the transformation. I had shown her me… Charlie. I looked around for her and she was nowhere to be found.

More memories came back to me. We had talked, I told her what I had done to me. The button, how it worked mostly and…

Oh fuck! The cum?! Please please dont let me have left it on the table. Itll be bad by now!

I rushed to the living room stark naked. Tits bouncing and hips jiggling. The cup was not on the table. I went to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Not there either.

What the fuck? Where is it?

Eventually I found it. Empty. In the sink. Dried cum evident in a trail down the drain.

*What the… what the actual fuck?! Shit! How am I supposed to…” I stopped abruptly. There was a note… from Stacey.

“Great fuck last night bestie. You fuck great as a chick. Damn near made me pass-out both times. You were so eager! It was very hot. You were practically begging me to make you feel like a woman forever. Very nice body. I like it. In fact I think you should stay this way. So I just threw away the cum. Now you cant change back right? I dont know exactly how it works but I did catch you need this. Dont worry, you can hate fuck me later. Gotta go to work.
…
P.s. you might want to call in sick. Work wont exactly recognize you! Kisses!”

Oh my god that dumb fucking bitch!!

My mind was racing. What was I going to do?! She clearly doesn’t understand how this works. Of course I can change back. But oh no… 750 ml of male cum. I need… 750ml of fucking cum to turn back. How many loads is that?! How long do I have. A week? A week until sexual madness or something. Shit…

I rushed back into the bedroom looking for my phone. My bedroom was a disaster. Flashes of last night hitting me. Stacey being so fascinated by my female self, getting me drunk on the whiskey I had in the cabinet.

I found my pink flip phone and open it up. I did a quick search online. How much semen does an average man ejaculate when they cum?

According to the search engines AI, it’s a little over 3 milliliters per ejaculation. That seemed so little…

Dividing 750 ml by 3, that gives me… no. No fucking way that can be right.

250 loads?! How the fuck am I supposed to get that much?! Fuck!

“Stacey you dumb piece of shit!!! Im so fucked!” I was panicking and not sure what to do. If I wait more than a week Ill start to go crazy and become a sex addict. The same happens when I push the button… but I guess I would at least start changing back every-time I fucked.

Maybe I could convince Jeff or Chance to help me out.

The idea oddly calmed me down. I found I was in-fact kinda turned on by it. They were going to have to fuck me 250 times at least where they came inside of me.

Then my heart sank as I realized my body was already betraying me.

I sent a text to stacey on my phone. Later Ill realize the specific distinction between thinking Charlie’s phone as my phone and not Wills phone as my phone….

Charlie: “Stacey what the actual fuck! You have no idea what you have done. And you clearly didnt pay attention to how this whole thing works. I cannot believe you did this?!”

…

The message indicated it was read and then… no response.

Oh wow. Great. Leaving me on read?! Damnit!

I took a deep breath and did what I knew I had to do before I was lost to panic .

Charlie: “Hey Chance… I need your help.”

I also started another text chain.

Charlie: “Hey there cutie. Not sure if you remember me. ;) But I was the hot red head you showed a good time to at Josies bar two nights ago. I was wondering if you wanna meet up again sometime? Talk soon hot stuff.”

And now I had to wait. It was pretty early and I assume they were busy.

Im just going to get them to help me. Ill use Jeff through seduction and Chance will just be in it for fucking me when its time I guess.

I sat on my bed deep in thought. What am I going to do. I had work today. I had six client lined up for personal training. I also had three high paying coding jobs that I needed to start working on. I also needed to accumulate 750 ml of cum in that time frame.

Ok ok. Lets see. If I can convince a man to fuck me as many times as possible. Feasible how long would it take for a man to literally pump that much into me?

I did another online search about recovery times and more specifically how long it takes the male body to reproduce that average of 3ml of cum.

Oh fuck my life. 24 to 48 hours depending upon the person and age! So even if I fuck constantly it really doesnt matter unless I am fucking a new guy every time… unless I want to wait one day every time?!

The gravity of the situation was really settling on me. This wasn’t just going to be a couple days of wild fucking. At least not with the same man…
One guy will take literally 250 days to give me that much cum.

I seem to remember hearing the doc saying that one teaspoon would be enough to get me to change back just very slowly… like months. So it probably wouldnt take all 250 days but… its going to be a while… if I only fuck one guy.

Shit… I either need more guys or maybe… i dont know… access to a sperm bank supply or something. Maybe I could start and Only fans, where I show my tits in exchange for men sending me refrigerated vials of cum.

I gotta calm down. It cant be that bad. Cant it?

My phone dinged.

Oh thank god please someone help me.

It was Chance.

Chance: “whose number is this?”

Jesus. New phone and forgot to tell him who I was.

Charlie: “its me Charlie. I got my own phone separate from Will. I need your help.”

Chance: “what do you need?”

Charlie: “Well… ummm… I made the changes you suggested. I also ended up hooking up with this woman, Stacey, who found out about me and wanted to see. Soooo I showed her and after I passed put she dumped all of cum. I cant turn back. Well… not quickly. Help?”

There was a long pause.

Chance: “You have to be more careful who you share this with Charlie. And especially careful with your return supply. This is bad.”

Charlie: “i know. Im freaking out and need help. Im already formulating ideas on how to get as much cum as possible. Did you know men can really only produce like 3ml of cum a day?!”

Chance: “Give me a couple of days… I might be able to help. I got some connections at the labs. I might be able to get a vial or two of cum for you. But… not 750 ml. 100 ml maybe at most. You will need to be prepared. Ill help where I can. But…”

Charlie: “But Ill have to fuck a lot of dudes… yeah Im figuring that out.”

Chance: “You have another six full days before you have to bite the bullet. Dont press your button until you cant help it. Ill be by when I can to help you prepare. It’s going to be a long haul.”

I put the phone in my lap as I sat there on the bed naked.

I cant not go to work for a week and then potentially another few months… I think Ill just have to be Charlie at my job. Show them my dual ID and deal with it. Not the way I wanted to reveal myself but what choice do I have?

As I sat there pondering my predicament, it occurred to me I could just quit my gym job and go full time freelance coding. The. i wouldnt have to show anyone and I could hide away… and have Jeff and chance rail me every chance they get.

Whoa… man that was an intrusive thought.

I took a deep breath. Yeah. Thats the plan. I’ll quit the gym job, but still keep my membership. Still gotta work out. I am just gonna dive into coding to keep money flowing while I deal with this.

Feeling more confident in my decision I realized I was getting excited about the prospect of having Chance and Jeff fuck the manhood back into me. So much so that I put my phone aside and hesitantly started gently rubbing one of my nipples and lightly rubbing my clit.

“Oh fuck yes. The changes I made were worth it. I can finally just masturbate!”

I closed my eyes and worked my clit with one hand and my nipples with the other.

———— Several days later. 5 days.

I sat awkwardly across a table from Jeff. I was wearing a tight short black dress, my hair cascaded down my back like a red waterfall. I even had makeup on. Every aspect of my body was practically on display in this overtly tight dress. Other women might have felt exposed or fat wearing this, given my body shape, but I felt like a fucking goddess. Jeff clearly thought so too as he was obviously holding down an erection when we hugged at the start of the date.

Jeff and I had been talking for the last few days. Even went out for coffee a few times. We haven’t fucked yet, except for that first night at Josies bar. This was our first date though. I still haven’t told him who I really was and couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was a slow car crash I just couldnt seem to stop. I knew I was going to keep this secret until it was too late to explain. I was too scared and too horny to turn him away. Especially since Chance had still not been by to help me like he promised. I was all bottled up sexual tension.

I had even met up with that woman Melissa from the phone store. We messed around in the back storage room. It was fun sure… and I am sure Ill see her again but my body was driving me towards something… harder.

The waiter brought us the bill. Jeff grabbed for it and refused to let me pay. I let him. After all, I was the woman on this date.

My body was practically on fire the whole night. Its been taking progressively more and more effort not to jump his bones right now… or just lift my dress up and rub one out.

“Thank you for dinner Jeff.” I said. I barely even remembered what I just ate I was so horny. I know I drank a couple manhattans and had a strong buzz. Leaning forward, grasping his hands and rubbing his leg with my foot, I bit my lower lip and with a more seductive tone said. “Now I think some dessert is in order. I know a place.” I winked and stood up.

We left the restaurant arm in arm. Jeffs had on my ass. We flagged a taxi and we were making out in the back of the cab the whole way back to my place. My cunt pulsed and throbbed and felt very wet. I rubbed at his decently sized cock through his pants. He was rock hard.

The can driver was clearly watching us as we made out. But we didnt care. It took everything we had to not just start fucking in the cab.

Finally back at my place. I unlocked the door, we flew in and Jeff started manhandling me around the apartment. Kissing me hard against the walls, the kitchen counter, the fridge. We couldn’t stop moving from place to place. To hot to just stop long enough to just go to the bed.

Jeff had somehow gotten my strapless brah off with out taking my dress off. He pulled my tits out the top of my tight black dress and hiked up the bottom of it to reveal my ass and cunt. Before I knew what was happening he was sucking on my left tit and working his fingers like magic around my clit and inside of me. Fuck it felt amazing. Pinned there against the fucking fridge and getting finger banged.

“Mmmmm, oh fuck Jeff don’t stop. Just keep rubbing like that and— and… I just might—“

I came right there against the fridge with Jeff holding me like a bowling bowl. It hit me everywhere and I was moaning so loud. I felt a significant amount of liquid begin to heavily pour onto the floor.

“Fuuuuck Jeff! I cant stop—“ and Jeff just kept the rhythm up cause me to cum again hard. More liquid spewing onto the floor.

“Uh, Jeff stop, you gotta—“ but I just ended up moaning and groaning as I fucking came again. The floor was a fucking mess. I could feel it on my feet. I was just squirting uncontrollably.

What is happening to me oh my god!

I couldnt even stand anymore and Jeff held me up, finally pulling his finger out of me. I sighed heavily and looked into Jeffs eyes. “Goddamn that was amazing! What else can you do?” I smirked as Jeff effortlessly just kept holding me as he carried me into the room. “Put me down, Im too heavy for you!”

Jeff barely seemed to notice my weight. “No you’re not. Now cut that shit out.”

Oddly I felt tingly all over hearing him say that.

“Charlie. I’ve been waiting to see you again so badly. Now that I have you in my arms, your mine. At least for tonight.” Jeff proclaimed as he laid me onto the bed and took his drenched pants off. Apparently I had squirted all over his pants.

He revealed his cock, hard and eager. He lifted my legs and laid his cock on my lips and clit sliding it up and down my folds. My pussy a wet mess lubricating his cock with each thrust. It was driving me wild and my body shivered.

Finally he lined himself up and slid inside of me.

“Oh my god! Jeff!” I moaned and bit my lip as I attempted to grab onto him and pull him deeper inside. He needed little guidance from me. As he pumped in and out out me. Pulling entirely out before plunging back in. It was so intense and I could feel an orgasm building.

Jeff was grabbing my inner thighs and squeezing. It felt so good to be manhandled. He was so damn strong and I involuntarily groaned when he grabbed my thighs roughly.

“Mmm yeah Jeff! Dont be gentle with me. Grab me, make me yours. Mmmm ffffuuuuck!” I came hard trying to dirty talk him. He was really grabbing onto me now. I was completely under his control.

My body rhythmically rocked back and forth and his hands grabbed and rubbed all over my stomach and legs and tits. Uh I felt so alive with his cock buried in me and his strong hands grasping me so tightly.

He spread my legs out as far as I could and he grabbed my inner thighs roughly just as he was cumming. He seemed to involuntarily squeeze harder as he came.

It happened so quickly. I didnt even have a concious moment to register it happened. He didnt even know what he had done.

CLICK!

The sound meant nothing to Jeff. It meant everything to me.

“Mmmm nooo…” I tried to protest but my brain was alive with euphoria as my body absorbed the cum he was dumping into me right now. My body shifted and morphed. Only slightly but oh my god it felt like such a relief. Like cumming after holding it for a week. My eyes rolled back and my hips bucked. My clit jumped and pumped and throbbed. Oh it felt so good. I think I moaned Jeffs name over and over again… or maybe I just moaned. I wasnt sure.

What I was sure of was the my clit felt huge. While I knew it would still be small, and Jeff may not notice but… the process had started and I wasnt ready.

Jeff slowed his movments inside of me and I groaned for more.

“No no baby no don’t be done. I need more.”

I groped at him as he slid out of me. I tried to jerk him off to get him hard again but it was no use. He was spent for now.

He laid next to me and we made out for a while. My mind was reeling. I felt trapped and hungry.

Jeff finally noticed that I was extremely on edge.

“Are… are you ok Charlie?” He asked looking at my eyes. “Your eyes are completely dilated and your breathing is short and ragged.

“Jeff… did you get those pills I asked you to get?”
I asked in-between my heavy breathing.

“You mean the ones that make me cum way more
Than normal and remain really hard for longer?”

My heart jumped.

“Yeah yeah! You get them?” I asked eagerly.

“I got em in my pants right now.”

Yes yes yes!

“Go take them now. Nothing makes me wetter than you dumping loads of cum into me. Its so fucking hot!”

I was so desperate. I knew there was no quick way out of this. These pills I found online claimed to make a man cum up to four times the normal amount. The brand name was cumalot and had a picture of a sword snd shield in the logo.

Jeff quickly scooped his pants up off the floor. He pulled out the box of pills and looked at the instructions.

“Weird… it says I can take up to 10 times the recommended dose. The only caveat is that I have to ensure that I eat a heavy meal and drink at least 500 ml of water every two to three hours or else I may pass out from dehydration and malnutrition. Whoah. I guess Ill just take the recommended dose. Double the load is probably—-“

“NO!” I cleared my throat surprised at my tone. “I mean. No no. Do it Jeff. Take the max dose. Ill order you a few pizzas or whatever you want! And of course all the water you can drink. Cmon baby. The thought of you dumping 30 ml of cum into me all at once…” my eyes rolled back and I pressed my legs together. Practically cumming right there thinking about it.

“Ummm… well it says itll take an half an hour to an hour to kick in. And… itll last for 24 hours. Guarantees one overdosed load every hour. Whoah. And it says here that I will dump that load every hour whether or not I am climaxing. What the fu—“

“Yes baby! Yes. You’re gonna fuck me all night long. Ill drink it from you if I have to! Yes! Lets do it.” I jumped up from the bed and grabbed him. A wild look in my eyes.

“Jesus, you really want this dont you? This is weird. I dont know…” Jeff was clearly starting to get weirded out. I had to pull it together. It was so hard to remain focused.

I took a deep breath and pushed the desires down hard. “Jeff, baby. Im sorry. Springing this on you so fast. I just got carried away.” I said softly and seductively, running my hands through his hair.
“We just have such a great connection. A spark of chemistry that made me really excited. I was desperately excited to share this fetish of mine with you.”

Jeff was clearly starting to warm up again.

“So what do you think big man. Wanna fill me up like a water balloon? Ill order food and water. Ill keep you fed and hydrated if you fill me up?”

I slid my hand back down to his cock and caressed it. His cock starting to get hard again.

“Besides, dont you want to tell the boys how you fucked a woman all night?”

Jeff clearly was almost onboard. “But 24 hours… and Ill cum once an hour no matter what…”

I kissed him deeply and slowly jerked him off. “Im going to drink every ounce of it. You’re going to love it. Maybe ill even try blindfolding you later to spice it up. Dont worry. Once we start, I wont stop. And neither will you. Now go take the max dose and drink water. Pizza will be here soon. Also take a shot or two of whiskey. I want you messy. “

Jeff smiled and grabbed my ass. “Fuck it. Lets do this.”

Everything seem to take forever. My body was like an exposed wire. Everything took effort to focus on. My cunt was constantly wet, drooling even. My clit throbbed so bad. My head spun and checking in the mirror my eyes were mostly dilated. Jeff took the max dose of pills and the food and hydration I ordered arrived. After about 30 minutes Jeff suddenly felt very thirsty and hungry. He ate half a pizza and drank so much water I was worried he was gonna throw up. But he didnt. And I was so excited for what was coming next.

While we waited I kept playing with Jeff. Keeping him half hard and keeping him buzzed. Ensuring that he was good and drunk too when we fucked again. I needed him to not notice my changes form as long as possible. I told myself I could trick him through the whole process. Then again I was so desperate Id rationalize anything at this point.

“Ummm, Charlie… I think its kicking in. I feel weird. Like my balls are too heavy and I have this sudden urge to jack off.”

I ran my hands through his hair and slowly started jerking him off again.

“Thats it baby. Let it do its job. And let me take care of you”

Jeffs cock was fully… well it was more than fully hard. Had his cock gotten bigger? Also his balls were clearly larger now. I smiled and my body tingled. I my self on top of Jeff and without a word guided his cock inside of me.

Once again my bodys new instincts took over. I rode him like Id done this for years. And he moaned and groaned. Shit I moaned and groaned.

“Oh Charlie… I dont know about this. I feel really weird. Almost like Im gonna… cum but…” Jeff suddenly gagged and coughed onto my chest. What at first I thought was phlem, I quickly realized was actually… cum.

I kept riding him. His cock was clearly getting hard, bigger even. He was starting to stretch me out.

Jeff reached forward to touch the small amount of cum he just coughed up onto me.

“What the fu—“ he gagged again and his neck bulged as he involuntarily tilted his head back slightly. “Oh god im—- im gonna —-“

And then I felt his cock pulse inside me. My mind rang out in sweet ecstasy. I instinctively leaned forward and began making out with Jeff and he began to… for lack of a better word, ejaculate out of his mouth.

It was delicious. I drank it down. Jeff was crying and gagging and cumming. He was my little cum factory.

I felt like a cum vampire as I gorged myself on all of it.
My body was responding to the intake of so much cum. My clit was throbbing and growing. I felt my legs stretch a little. While I still didnt change much, my clit was now half an inch long and standing straight up with excitement.

My body tingled and I just basked in the feeling. My lips locked onto jeffs, drinking, and my cunt just grasping onto his cock.

Finally jeff stopped convulsing and I could tell he was done for the moment. His whole body seem to shiver and pulse in an extremely phallic way. But eventually he seem to relax finally. He laid there on the bed breathing heavily.

“Wha, wha… what the fuck was… that?” Jeff asked clearly exhausted.

“It was amazing.” I cooed as i continued to lay on too him.

Jeff looked into my eyes. “Your eyes are so dilated.”

I pet his head affectionately. “Shhhh. Rest now. Ill get you some food and water in minute.

“My body feels weird Charlie. I think this might have been a bad idea.” Jeff said weakly.

“No no my dear. Shhh. Shhh. Let Charlie take care of you.”

I finally slid off of Jeff and went to check the packaging for the pills he bought. I seemed to have a fleeting moment of lucidity and had a sneaky suspicion that something wasnt right about those pills.

I found the box and read it.

Cumalot Xtra Plus.
Cum volumes more.

On the back I read the same details Jeff had told me earlier. But there was more he clearly didnt read, but it wasnt on the box. It was in a folded up paper on the inside.

Warning. Max dose users may find physical changes occur. Extreme phallic enlargement and in some rare cases temporary phallic mutations may occur. In even rarer cases takers of this pill have experienced full phallic merging and transformation. In the event of producing cum out of the mouth and penis, please call the number on the box immediately. This is a severe reaction and the person is experiencing a transformation sequence. Note this will be irreversible if they bond to a female after final transition. If no female bonding occurs, they will naturally revert back to normal after 48 hrs after transition. Note bonding can occur anytime during that 48 hours.

My jaw dropped open. My mind whirled at the information.
“What the actual fuck?” I whispered to myself. I turned to look at Jeff. He was laying there breathing heavy still and limp. The way a penis would be limp just after cumming. Or am I just imagining that?

My clit throbbed again. My minds fog started to grow heavy. My moments of lucidity were fading.

It cant be that bad. He will turn back. First he can give me all the cum I need. The. ill keep him safe. Yeah. Thats it. Stick with the plan. As long as I have fully turned back to being a man after he turns into a cock then i just have to keep him safe for 48 hours. He will be like a fleshy dildo or something.

I crumpled up the paper and threw it away. I quickly went and grabbed one of the half gallons of water and brought it to Jeff.

“Hey baby! Oh man that was soo hot. Here is some water. Ill grab you some food. Gotta keep your strength up. I lightly stroked his cock as I propped him up so he could drink.

“We got a long night ahead of us Jeff. “

I licked my lips.

In the living room my phone buzzed. Later I would learn it was from Stacey. She was going to come see me tomorrow night. She needed a good fuck.

—————-
End of Part. We will continue next time with this scene in the next part.

Let me know if you like where this is heading. Like i said before I just write what I think is hot.

I was sitting in that wheelchair outside St. Mark’s, still foggy, when Jen leaned in close, smiling like she’d just won the lottery. “I can’t believe how perfect you came out!" she gloated. "You look just like me, and now you’re going to BE me so I can get away from Jeff…”

I could feel the red tank top stretched tight over full, soft breasts, the short denim shorts, the slender legs that definitely weren’t mine. So weird… I thought in a drugged daze... must be a dream... dream feels so real… like I have tits… a pussy… Jen’s face… dreaming…

Next thing I knew I was lying on her bed in Jeff and Jen's house... still sleepy... still feeling like a dream as I heard Jen's voice as she walked away, “By the time you wake up I’ll be halfway to Belize… and you’ll be trapped as Jeff’s wife and he’ll never know I left him.”

Then the door opened and Jeff walked in. He leaned over me, “Hey babe, sorry I’m late… but you can make it up to me!” His hand slid to my throat, gentle but possessive. My eyes flew open. I made a tiny, involuntary squeak.

Oh my god this is the most lucid dream ever! It’s like I can feel him! Like I really have Jen’s body!

He was already hard, already pulling his cock out. I was still telling myself it was a dream when he guided my hand to it.

I must want this somehow if I’m having such a vivid dream…

“That’s it baby, you know what I want!”

I didn’t fight it.... the dream logic was too strong. I opened my mouth and took him in and it all felt impossibly real. I gagged a little as he pushed deeper.

Mmm… how do I know what cock tastes like? So real…

I felt my tits swaying and pressing against his thighs. And the way my tits feel… it’s like I really have tits… and his cock hitting my throat! I’ve never had such a vivid dream!

I'm still telling myself that it's still a dream but then... on top of him as I feel him pushing his cock deep inside me! OH MY GOD! THIS IS TOO REAL! HE’S INSIDE ME! I hear Jen's voice come from my mouth, "ogod… it’s so big!" I’ve can’t wake up! He just keeps fucking me and… oh god… It’s like I’m really Jen for real!

Soon he empties his load deep inside me ant turns out the lights, holding me close, pawing my breasts... Oh shit… I’m awake… in the wet spot… this isn’t a dream is t?

I was banging my hot neighbor when we heard a car pull into the driveway. "Crap!" she shouted as we looked out the window, "it’s my husband! He’ll kill you if he finds you here!"

I panicked shouting, "I can’t get out without him seeing me! DO SOMEHTNG!"

"There’s just one thing to do… {ZACHLATIMA}" and my body and clothes started changing!

My voice pitched up as my body shifted, shrank and grew in all the wrong places, "Oh my god! I’m.. no! you’re not using your magic to turn me into a woman are you?"

And then it was done, I was a busty blonde in a short sexy red dress... she fondled my breasts from behind sayng, "There now he’ll have no idea you’re my lover… mmm and we can still have fun!"

"Oh… that should’t feel so good… but… mmm… you need to change me bcck…" and then feeling how good it felt... "in a bit…."

Her husband found us like that, towering over me now that I was the same height (and the same shape!) as his wife... He leered down at me and said pretty much straight to my new tits even though he was talking to his wife, "I knew you were cheating, babe, I just thought you were fucking a guy… You should have told me you had a lesbian lover, it’s not cheating if you share!"

I could just say a breathy, accidentally sexy "H-hi..." while she whispered in my ear, "Go along with it, sweetie, or he’ll kill us both! Besides… it might be fun!"

Then he started stripping... and SHE started stripping... and I found MYSELF stripping and falling to my knees in front of her big, strong husband as she said, "Oh honey, you know I would never cheat on you and Jenny here would love to play with both of us, isn't that right, JENNY?"

He boomed, "Is that right, Jenny? Do you want to feel what my wife feels? Be a good junior wife and help get me hard, Jenny…"

I guess I'm Jenny now... and junior wife? But I found myself reaching for his cock saying, "Um… oh my…. Yes… Sir…" and then sucking side by side, just like her... I can’t believe I’m sucking her husband’s cock with her! Or that it tastes so… good

Soon I was riding his cock like I'd done it my whole life. It felt so good I couldn't help but moan in my soft sexy voice, "OHHH GOD! WHY WOULD YOU EVER CHEAT ON HIM! HE FEELS SO GOOD!"

And as she rubbed my new clit pushng me over the edge she told it all... "Silly girl… because that’s what you are now… I didn’t cheat on him… I recruited you… you’re going to be my new sister wife, I planned it all along…"

Issue 7 at DeviantArt! Issue 7 at Itch!

The preview pages of Issue 1 are linked here!

I used to be a guy. A perfectly ordinary guy. And then I got turned into a ridiculously curvy blonde bunnygirl, complete with big fluffy ears, a cute little tail, and an outfit that leaves almost nothing to the imagination.

I wanted my old life back. At least, I thought I did.

But then there's Damon.

Somehow, despite everything, I've fallen completely in love with him -- a man! But I'm still a guy*... right?!?*

But... I like the way he looks at me. The way he holds me. Sometimes I catch myself imagining a future together, and I realize... I might really want this.

But there's something Damon isn't telling me*. Something about my transformation.*

And now I'm starting to wonder... what's really been going on, all along?

Issue 7 continues my adventures with more bunnygirl romance and dangerous secrets!

Get the complete 20+ page issue to find out what happens next!

Get the previous issues of Bunnygirl here:

Issue 1 DA ! Issue 2 DA ! Issue 3 at DA ! Issue 4 at DA ! Issue 5 at DA ! Issue 6 at DA ! <Issue 7 is the one in this post you're reading now>

Issue 8 is starting on Patreon on Monday, so if you want to see the pages as they come out, subscribe today! [Typically 2 pages every Monday]

[Rating and content: This series is gender bending fantasy adventure romance! While not officially rated, I would estimate: This series is on the whole R for nudity (heavy on issues 1-2), and Mature for strong adult themes and occasional fantasy violence. However, the overarching focus is on fantasy romance adventure and veers toward an upbeat feeling.]

Pt.4 https://www.reddit.com/r/genderotica/s/XD0p4GFSoE
 
I’m not gay, I don’t care if it looks like I am I’m not. I feel like I’m telling myself that multiple times a day now. The problem is, I don’t know if it’s true anymore or if I’m just saying it because the alternative scares me too much.
 
It’s been two weeks since the great shift, since the night I became trapped in the body of Hilary Slade, a forty something wife and mother. For those two weeks the whole world has been on lock down. A lockdown that puts anything that happened during the pandemic to shame.
 
So for two weeks Jack, Hilary’s husband, and I have been inside their huge house with their three children just being a family. My days have been filled with cooking and cleaning and hanging out with the kids watching movies and binging the latest viral shows. My nights have been laying in bed talking about everything under the sun with Jack, and eventually getting my brains fucked out by him.
 
At first, I told myself it was like a vacation and that’s what you did on vacation, you did all the things locals do, you tried everything out. And that it’s not my fault I’m on this body or that his big hard cock feels so fucking good in it. But that was at first. After two weeks there’s practically nothing left to experiment with. Jack and I have done nearly everything a man and woman can do, sexually and otherwise, multiple times. So the curiosity aspect is satisfied, yet every time he offers me his dick, or is naked, or even just gives me that loom he has, I eagerly jump at the opportunity.
 
Like this morning, for example. The world finally opened back up on last night, so today, Jack is flying to Miami to see the patients he had to push back two weeks ago. All he was doing was getting dressed after his shower, but I happened to see it swaying in just the right way and I had to have it in my mouth. Honestly, most days, I barely remember what my life was like before I was Hilary. I barely remember how it felt to be eighteen and about to graduate and start my life. I forget what it was like to be a boy.
 
I can’t imagine that I haven’t been irreparably changed by this. I am so used to being a wife and mother, to being a woman, that I sometimes wonder if I’ll be able to return to being a man and what it will look or feel like when I do. Will I still be so attracted to men? Will I miss the clothing and body so much that I start taking hormones and transition? I don’t know and frankly I’m scared of it, but I’m certain I will know by this time tomorrow.
 
The scientists have confirmed that the shift was not naturally occurring and since aliens and magic don’t exist that means it was done by a person, on purpose. I don’t think it was a terrorist attack like they initially said because no one took credit for it. So that means, in my expert opinion, it was a test. Since the world was on a strict travel ban and curfew for the past two weeks, so whoever did this was on lockdown and unable to undo it. If I’m right then at 12:17 tonight I’ll be back in my own body again.
 
I’m excited to get my life back for sure, but I’m going to miss this life and these people. I like being Jack’s wife, he’s a really good man and treats me well. Maybe that’s why I had such an urge to suck his dick today, because I knew it would be the last time I ever did.
 
I mean sure, if I’m still so inclined in my own body, though I doubt I will be, I can still find guys to let me blow them, but they won’t be his. I’ll never see him again after today. I’ll never see Kevin and Terry and Annie again or Gail or even Bert. I’ve said goodbye to all them in my own way over the past twenty-four hours. But aside from Jack, Annie was the hardest.
 
It’s so funny, for the three months leading up to this, when I would get glimpses into this life, I developed such a major crush on her, now that I’m here and we’ve grown so close, there’s literally zero romantic or sexual attraction. For three months all I wanted was to see her naked, when I finally did I felt nothing. Don’t get me wrong, her body is more amazing than I’d imagined, I just didn’t enjoy it the way I expected to. In fact, I got more of a rise checking out her douchebag boyfriend’s bulge at dinner last night. More proof that my sexuality is being overridden by Hilary’s.
 
That’s the one person I’m having the most difficulty saying goodbye too. Hilary, or more accurately, Hilary’s body. I’ve so thoroughly enjoyed being here and being her. The experience is one I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. I contemplated writing her a thank you note, but how would I guarantee she reads it, also, what if she isn’t happy about this whole experience like I am?
 
So instead, I’m leaving her thank you gifts. I ditched my Monday morning run with Gail, she was not shy about being happy to not go running this week, because I convinced Jack to go back to the plan we made two weeks ago. Wednesday morning Hilary is going to fly out to Miami for five days of luxury relaxation and Jack. A second honeymoon almost.
 
That’s gift one. Gift two I’m getting ready for now. I’m going into town to buy some outfits, swimsuits, and lingerie guaranteed to make Jack want to rip them off of her. I’m more than a little jealous. And gift three is that I found the number of her personal massage therapist and he agreed to squeeze me in at seven tonight.
 
So when Hilary returns she’s going to be pampered, relaxed, and fully packed for five days of getting railed by the love of her life. That’s the best I can think of to show my gratitude for sacrificing her time to let me live out this dream life, even if it was so brief.
 
I’m driving g down the road in Hilary’s luxury convertible, loving the weather, when suddenly a swarm of black SUVs comes up out of nowhere. They come to a screeching halt in front of and behind me,forcing me to slam on my brakes. Large men in camouflage and balaclavas, carrying automatic rifles, jump out of every door.
 
I look in my mirror and see there of them approaching from behind my car quickly. This is it, my last day and they’re going to take me away. I don’t even know where they’re going to take me; I just know no one has come back yet.
 
“Get this car outta here lady,” one man tells from behind his mask as he and his buddies run past my car and up to a house to my right. I watch as they kick in the door and go running in. I’ve heard about these raids but haven’t actually seen one yet. I don’t wait long, I know what’s happening and I don’t want to see it.
 
Ever since the new anti-shift laws got passed, the government has been more aggressively taking in any those who were shifted they can find. Usually turned in by friends or family. The raid itself is terrifying enough, the not knowing is worse.
 
I decide I no longer want an iced latte, I need something stronger, so I pull into my usual parking spot downtown but instead of the coffee shop I go to the hotel around the corner, sit at the bar, and order an espresso martini.
 
“A little early for such a strong drink, no?” A deep voice with a distinct English-style accent says.
 
I look to my right and see him, the gorgeous man I see walk past as Gail and I are sipping our coffees after our morning runs. He’s literally the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life. We may or may not schedule our runs to be there every morning when he walks past at exactly 10:04.
 
“Maybe... Let’s just say it was a hard morning,” I say.
 
He turns towards the bar and leans across sticking out his arm to get the bartender’s attention. I can’t help but check him out. Everything about him is sexy, the sharp jawline, the perfectly trimmed beard, makes me want to lick his neck, and that forearm thick and muscular with a hint of a tattoo peaking out from under his sleeve. Coupled with that large strong hand. I find myself imagining that hand on my chest holding me down while he shoves his cock in me.
 
“That hard of a day already?” He asks.
 
“Yeah, I just …. There was one of those raids, right in front of me.”
 
I take my first drink, Gail lied. This doesn’t taste like a spicy latte at all. It tastes like paint thinner with coffee. I cough slightly from the burning in my throat and set the glass down.
 
“Ahh, yes, dreadful how your government is treating those poor bastards,” he says.
 
The bartender sets down his glass of whiskey. He thanks him and takes a sip. No reaction. Jesus that’s so hot.
 
“Is your government doing any better?” I ask condescendingly.
 
“No, I guess not, but I haven’t been there to witness it firsthand. Been on the longest, most expensive unplanned working holiday in history.” He replies and takes another sip with little to no reaction
 
I take another drink and again wince.
 
“You know, you’re one to talk about drinking early,” I say smugly.
 
“In my defense, love, it’s six in the evening my time.”
 
“But you’re not on your time.” I reply smugly. I take another sip and wince again.
 
“Alex,” he calls to the bartender who walks over, “can you add simple syrup and Irish cream to the lady’s drink? It’s not super palatable in its current form.”
 
“Of course Mister Long.” Alex replies taking my drink.
 
“I’m not in my country, but I do still have to keep my office hours.” He says turning back to face me, leaning on the bar.
 
“So you’re just getting off of work?”
 
“Yes ma’am.”
 
“So that means you started at..”
 
“One a.m.” he replies and takes another drink.
 
“My God, it sounds awful.” I reply.
 
Alex returns my drink and I take a sip. This one tastes so good that I take a bigger drink.”
 
“Better?” The man asks.
 
“Much” I reply.
 
“And yes, it’s been pretty much shit. Not able to really see much of the states or meet anyone and on the weekends isn’t better because my sleep schedule is so askew to everyone here.”
 
“That sucks,” I begin and pause to take another drink, “when do you get to go home.”
 
“Day after tomorrow,” he says. I’m Trevor, by the way.”
 
“Hilary.”
 
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s Trevor.” He replies with a grin.
 
Even his teeth are perfect. What the fuck? Suddenly a very disturbing realization hits me, one that I’m sure is going to bother me for a long time when I get back to my life. He looks almost exactly like my history teacher Mister Adames.
 
“My name is Hilary,” I chuckle.
 
“Lovely to meet you Hilary.” He says with a wider grin.
 
“So you excited to get home and see your loved ones?” I ask.
 
“Is that a sly way to ask if I’m married?”
 
“What? No, I’m just making conversation.”
 
“Ahh, my mistake. Yes, I am a bit excited to get back to my life.”
 
“I totally understand.” I take another drink. “So, are you married?” I ask. He laughs out loud. “What, you brought it up.” I say back matching his energy.
 
“I am. For eighteen years now.” He replies.
 
“That’s nice. I’m married as well.”
 
“I know.”
 
“What? How do you..” I begins but he taps my wedding band. I nod.
 
He takes a drink and so do I. My glass is suddenly almost empty. He leans across the bar and whistles for Alex. When Alex looks he hold up two fingers then points at our glasses. Did he just order me another drink? I wasn’t planning to have another but I’m also not turning it down, not from him.
 
“Upside down caramel latte.” He blurts out.
 
“What?” I giggle.
 
“Upside down caramel latte, I don’t care what your chain coffee shop calls it that’s what it is.”
 
“I’m so lost.” I reply and finish my drink.
 
“I’ve been trying to piece it together, where I know you from. Every morning you’re at that coffee shop with your interesting looking yet oddly attractive friend. You’re both drinking upside-down caramel lattes.”
 
“Oh, yeah. You’ve seen me there?” I say as if we don’t make eye contact almost every time.”
 
“Have I seen you there,” he asks, “Alex do you hear this. We have a moment almost every day for weeks now and she acts as if she doesn’t remember.”
 
“He says we have a moment Alex, yet it took him this long to remember me.” I reply.
 
“She isn’t normally wearing …. Clothes,” he says.
 
“You make it sound like I’m sitting there naked!” I exclaim and playfully slap his arm, getting a quick feel of his bicep in the process. I turn to Alex. “Its our treat to ourselves for running. I wear very typical running attire.”
 
“It’s a sports bra and, what do you call them here, booty shorts.” He replies. I turn and look at him.
 
“I’m always sitting down when you pass by, how do you know what type of shorts I have on?”
 
“The same way you know when I pass by; I’m looking.”
 
“I can see that.” I smile and take another drink.
 
“I must say, and this is not meant to detract from this beautiful dress, but I will miss those walks home from the office. Your bosom in that sports bra … brilliant.” He states then drinks the last half of his drink in one gulp.
 
I can’t help but blush. As I’m trying g to think of a comeback he stands and pulls his wallet out of his pocket.
 
“Alex, be a dear and put this all on my room please.” He asks.
 
“No, please, that’s too kind of you.” I begin but he hold his hand up.
 
In it is a white card with a picture of the city skyline and a familiar H logo. He sets it down on the bar and slides it in front of me.
 
“What’s this?” I ask.
 
“My room key.”
 
“I don’t understand.”
 
“I think you do. In fact, I think you want it as badly as I do. Normally, I would slink away and chalk it up to a fantasy I never acted on, perhaps picture you when I’m with my wife. But, in this case, if I didn’t at least try I would regret it for the rest of my life.” He explains.
 
“Trevor,” I begin but he again holds his hand up.”
 
“What lease don’t talk me out of this. I fear it would be too easy to do so. I have wanted this opportunity since I first saw you two weeks ago. I have ended meetings early and literally ran two blocks, just so I could be there on that street to see you sitting there with your spectacular breasts. I will likely regret doing this when I get home but I will regret not trying more.”  He swirls the ice in his glass nervously.
 
“I don’t know what to say,” I say.
 
“Don’t say anything. Sit here, finish your drink. When you’re ready. If you’re ready. I will be in room four twelve, waiting, naked.” He turns to walk then stops. “If you’re not ever ready just know that seeing you every day made this unbearable situation quite enjoyable.”
 
I sit and stare at the card on the bar for what feels like hours. Did that really just happen? Did he really just … I can’t do it. What am I saying of course I can’t. I was never going to. Was I? No, I wasn’t. I don’t think.
 
God why is this so confusing? I’m not into guys. I know what I was saying earlier but that was justifying. I don’t need to justify. Yes, I e had sex with Jack. Like a few dozen times. Yes, I’ve voluntarily if not eagerly swallowed his cum. Several times. But that was different, completely different.
 
I mean the first time I did it wasn’t on purpose; it was just the timing of the shift. And the rest were experimenting. It was my only chance to know what women feel during sex. And I’ve done pretty much everything. There’s practically nothing left to understand. Though there’s a few.
 
I swipe the card off of the bar and look at it. And is it really a fair experiment if there was only one test subject, if I only ever had one cock. It’s a nice cock sure but Trevor’s could be as nice, or nicer. God what if it’s bigger, I don’t know if I would survive that.
 
Now I just want to know how big it is. That’s a good reason to go up. Right? See how big he is. Then I can give this back and leave. Or I could stay. I mean I don’t know if they all taste the same. Also I heard once that diet changes the taste of cum. That would be something new to test.
 
I mean it is the last day of my vacation from my reality right? If it were a real vacation and on that last day I was offered a free ticket to an amusement park with a really fun ride; I wouldn’t turn that down just because I’m not supposed to like that ride.
 
But this isn’t a rollercoaster, it’s a man. A gorgeous sexy man yes but still a man. Not just any man a married man. I can justify me because I’m not married to Jack, Hilary is. When I’m gone there will be no one to tell him about this.  But Trevor is married. To a flesh and blood woman who could be horribly hurt. But it’s also his choice. He is the one who came into me.
 
I take down the rest of my drink in one gulp, reach in my purse and pull out a few twenties and drop them on the bar then head towards the elevator. I’ll just look. Maybe a blowjob. That’s it. Yeah that’s it. Maybe like let him put it in for a second.
 
What am I saying? I can’t go up there. I can’t be trusted. I’m way too turned on to be trusted. Besides I still have that elaborate toy in Hilary’s closet to try out. I can use that to calm myself down. I only have a little less than fourteen hours to use it. I might want a few…
 
The elevator dings and the doors open. I don’t even remember getting in or hitting the button. Yet here I am walking down the hall of the fourth floor, my legs moving as if under their own control until I’m standing in front of a wooden door with the numbers 412 in gold letters on a black plastic sign with a small no smoking symbol just staring at me.
 
I stand here flipping the plastic key card in my trembling  fingers over and over, debating what to do. Then I reach out and press it against the small box above the door handle. The light turns green with a beep and a click. I grab the handle and turn it.
 
I open the door into a large open room with a bathroom to my right. It’s a nice room with a large window overlooking the hills of Southern California, a desk, a small table with a chair, a desk, and a bed. And standing in front of the bed is Trevor, completely naked. His body is better than I imagined.
 
He is pure muscle. The tattoo that was peaking out of his sleeve goes all the way up his arm. There’s another on his thigh, three children, I’m assuming his. He has no body hair at all except a thick dark bush.
 
I look at his balls first. They’re dark, almost gray. They hang pretty low between his thighs. I kind of like that. I like how Jacks are really tight as well. I guess I like balls.  His dick is already starting to get hard, which makes me happy. It looks nothing like Jack’s. He’s nowhere near as long, pretty average, but fatter, which, in a way, I’m relieved by. Jack can be a lot to take sometimes and it’s the stretching that feels the best anyway. If anything, Trevor’s cock reminds me of my own. Except, he’s not circumcised, and the odds of having that opportunity again are slim.
 
As if a heavy weight has been lifted off of me, my shoulders relax. All of the fear and anxiety I had before is gone. Seeing him there, almost ready to go, I want this so badly. Hilary wants this so badly. He will be my gift to her, even if she never knows about it, her body will. My heels tap on the floort as I walk over to the desk and set my purse and his room key beside his wedding ring and wallet. I start to remove Hilary’s ring.
 
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, my fingers touch his large wedding band.
 
“I’m the most certain I’ve ever been in my life.” He replies. “I’ve fantasized about this moment a hundred times these past few weeks.”
 
I look up in the mirror, in the few seconds I was setting my stuff down, he has made the short walk across the room and is behind me. He moves my hair to the side, exposing my neck, which he leans down and begins kissing it gently.
 
“I’ve only ever been with one man,” I say. “What if I’m not as good as you’ve fantasized.”
 
“How long have you been with him?”
 
“Long enough to have a daughter graduating high school.”
 
“And how often does he fuck you.”
 
“Every day.”
 
“I think you shall be brilliant.” He replies.
 
I hadn’t even noticed him unzipping the back of my dress until he slides it off of my shoulders and it falls to the floor. I’m not wearing a bra so my breasts are just there, out for him to see. His hands come up from under my arms and cup them. He gives a gentle squeeze and pulls me back against himself. He is not fully erect against my ass.
 
“Exquisite,” he says under his breath.
 
I reach behind my back and wrap my fingers around it, as best I can. I start to gently stroke it. I feel the soft head suddenly appear from behind the foreskin and slide across the pads of my fingers.
 
“You have a really nice cock,” I say, “it’s gonna feel so good inside me.
 
“All in due time love, I want to savor this, savor you.”
 
For the next few more minutes, I watch in the mirror as he kisses my neck and shoulders while massaging my breasts with his large meaty hands. Theirs is a difference between the hands of a man who I can tell has done manual labor, who has never skipped a day at the gym, and those of Hilary’s surgeon husband.
 
Trevor’s hands are stronger, more calloused, I’m not sure which I prefer, both feel great in their own way. His hand goes down my arm to my wrist and he pulls my hand from his cock.
 
“You’re going to make me cum,” he whispers.
 
“Isn’t that the point?” I chuckle.
 
“Yes, eventually but…”
 
“Are you gonna stop if I make you cum right now?”
 
“Love, I fear I may never want to stop.” He replies making me blush.
 
I move my hand back in place and start stroking him slowly.
 
“Then cum for me,” I say softly.
 
He lets go of my wrist and moves my hand back to my body; only this time he lays it on my belly and lowers it down inside my panties. I gasp when I feel his fingers begin to explore my wet folds.
 
We both pant and moan as I stroke his fat cock behind my back and his fingers explore my vulva, teasing my clit and hole. His breathing gets faster and he tenses up.
 
“I’m so close,” he pants out.
 
“That’s it baby, cum. Cum for me. Cum all over my back.
 
His hand grips my breast hard and he starts to move his hips, fucking my hand in rhythm with my strokes. Suddenly he cries out in pleasure and the first thick hot ribbon shoots up my back. At the same time his finger pushes deep inside me causing my back to arch and me to cry out. He continues to grunt in a rhythmic pattern; with each grunt I feel more of his hot cum on my back.
 
When he finishes he takes his hand from my breast and puts it on my chin, turning my mouth up to meet his. As we kiss he puts his hand back to my breast and pulls me back tightly against him. His cum covering us both while he slowly moves his finger in and out of my pussy. I begin whimpering.
 
He moves his hand back to my breast only this time as he massages it, he begins rolling my hard nipple between his fingers. With his other hand he adds a second finger inside me. The intense pressure and pleasure cause me to lean forward against the desk a bit and groan out.
 
He turns me around and sets me against the desk. At the same time he literally rips my panties off of me and throws them across the room. I’m stand here looking up at him, my hands on the back of his neck, letting him see my face contorting in pleasure while he fucks me with his big meaty fingers.
 
Then suddenly he stops and pulls his fingers out. The sudden vacancy in my canal causes me to lean forward into his chest and groan. He pushes me back then gently slips his wet fingers into my mouth. Fuck I taste good. I mean Hilary tastes good. I’m confused and … fuck this feels so dirty and amazing.
 
My eyes are Locke don his as I suck the wetness from his fingers. They remain locked on his as he kneels in front of me. He removes his fingers from my mouth and uses both hands to open and examine my pussy.
 
“Fuck, every inch of you is pure perfection,” he says.
 
“Thank you,” I go to say but before I can finish his lips are on the small bit of skin between my vulva and thigh.
 
I realize that despite a few false starts with Jack, I’ve never been eaten out before. I am about to experience one thing I’ve fantasized and wondered about much longer than I care to admit to myself.
 
I brace myself on one hand and slide my ass to the edge of the desk while putting my feet on the desk on either side of myself, opening myself up and giving him as much access as I can.
 
The invitation does not go unanswered. He quickly moves from teasing my pussy to devouring it. His tongue swirls and licks and teases every fold and crease I have. He even figures out a way to push the tip inside of me. The onto part of it he avoids is my clit, which only makes me want it more. My other hand moves to his hair and I guide his mouth to where I want it.
 
I don’t know how long he’s been licking me, I can’t possibly remember that. I’ve lost all sense of time and space, all I have is this undeniably intense pleasure that exceeds anything I’ve ever felt or could describe. I know at one point he sucks on my clit like a tiny cock and I almost lose control of myself.
 
Then suddenly the pleasure stops. It all stops. Suddenly I am sitting here, on the desk, my wet pussy exposed and cold. I start to open my eyes to see what is happening, but before I can, his lips are pressed against mine again. I smell my pussy everywhere. His beard is drenched in Hilary’s juices.
 
Eagerly I wrap my arm around him and accept his pussy flavored tongue into my mouth. Just when I think it can’t get any better than this I feel it. Its soft and slick sliding up and down between my lips. Then he slowly, oh so slowly, begins to push it inside me.
 
I pull my face back and gasp as I feel myself getting stretched wider than I expected. Jesus he’s fat as fuck.
 
“Oh fuck,” I pant out.
 
I look down and see his hairy bush getting closer to min and watch as his thick cock disappears inside of me at the same speed.
 
“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.
 
I look back up at him and briefly, with the way he is staring and clenching his jaw, I don’t see the stranger from the bar, I see mister Adam’s. And it makes me want it more.
 
“Keep going. Keep going slow. Fuck you feel so good inside me.” I cry out louder than I expected.
 
He keeps a slow steady pace but slowly starts to speed up faster and faster until he’s slamming into me at a pace that would put a jack hammer to shame. I can’t help but cry out in pleasure. That is until his hand grips my neck tightly. Not enough to cut my air off completely, but I can’t scream, and his fingers are pressing the veins on either side which causes the world to dim slightly.
 
 The reaction causes me to tense up which makes his fat member feel even fatter which makes me want to scream more. I know I’m going to cum, I can already feel it, I just don’t know how hard it’s going to be or if I can handle it.
 
Finally, when I can’t take anymore I tap his arm and he lets go. The sudden rush of blood to and from my brain sends me immediately into a massive orgasm. I lean  up and grab the back of his neck and press my forehead to him as I scream out through my intense pleasure.
 
“Fuck, that face, I can’t….” He groans.
 
He quickly pulls his cock out of me and after two or three strokes he cums for the second time, this time on my chest. Im pretty sure I’m going to regret grabbing that key and coming up here. But I knew the second he made the offer I waant going to be able to say no. I knew it was going to feel this good. And as he grabs my ass and lifts me up and carries me to the bed while kissing me, I’m certain the next time is going to feel even better.
 
 

A modern supernatural adventure where boastful confidence meets karmic justice. After months of bragging about your planned conquest-filled October, you've been cursed by a witch and transformed into the very thing you objectified. Now you must complete your challenge - a costume party and hookup every single night - or remain trapped in your new body forever. The curse has made you irresistibly attractive but desperately sensitive. Can you navigate this gauntlet of seduction while battling your own transformed desires?

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