I knew full well of Doug’s problems with shapeshifting. He had always been candid about it, even before we started dating, and at first it was fun to talk about his abilities and have some fun… but then things started to get a bit real. Three months ago, Doug had come clean and told me that sometimes he couldn’t control his transformations, and of course I had supported him like any good girlfriend would.
Today, though, things got a little strange. When I came home from the gym I was super horny, and I wanted Doug. Bad. Soon we were passionately making out and he was stripping off my top, but suddenly he stopped short. “I can’t do this right now,” he had said. “I think I might shift.”
At the time, I didn’t care. “Fuck it,” I said and continued kissing his body. But in just a matter of minutes, Doug wasn’t Doug anymore. He was me. Now here I am, pinned to the bed and looking up at a copy of my own body. I couldn’t help but stare at his tits and abs, and his waistline where I could see my favorite tattoos. It was so uncanny, looking at my own body from a new angle, but I didn’t want him to stop. Secretly, this was always something I had wanted to try.
