Chad was wore out from work, and just wanted to chill and relax. His roommate had other plans however, experimenting with a spell book. As Chad sat on his favorite chair and watched TV, he found himself feeling strange to say the least. Gazing down at himself he seen why. He now had a soft petite body with all the right curves, and ample budding breasts. All of which was covered by a short sexy little black dress, flesh tone hose, and super high black shiny heels.
It wasn’t just the breasts that were so foreign to Hector after the nuclear meltdown somehow altered his DNA not to give him cancer, but to make him a female version of himself had he been born with XX instead of XY. Sure the breasts and indoor plumbing were strange and intriguing to him, but it was his new thoughts that were the most shocking of all.
Harold was warned about the magic swimsuit, but he intended to give it to his girlfriend to make her lustful for him. He was told not to touch it however, and he did so anyway, by accident, while getting ready to wrap it, as part of it was out of the protective packaging. Seconds later he was a curvaceous brunette, and was compelled to put on the bikini set. He was then compelled to out to the beach, where he was lusting after the hunky lifeguard, tugging on his white bikini bottoms in lust for this man whom now looked to him like a handsome stud.
On Thursday, Tad told his friend Nick he had an interesting surprise for him when he came over Friday night. His friend Nick was excited, hoping it would be something besides a game or movie this time, not that he didn’t enjoy them, but he wanted to do something different this time. When Nick went into Tad’s room, there before him was a naked buxom curvaceous brunette with monstrously large breasts hanging nearly down to her bellybutton. Her hands were over her equipment, and she was smiling.
Terrence was in shambles, he sat in the back of the limo, in tears, the woman he was to marry, left him hanging at the alter, freaking out and running away from the wedding, even kicking off her heels and holding one in each hand to run away faster, and get into her car, and drive off. Terrence didn’t know what he did, things were going so good before the wedding, though his future wife did get quiet one night when he mentioned about having kids to here while they were lying in bed conversing. He thought she just fell asleep, but in all actuality, the thought freaked her out at this time. Taking care of kids, stretching out her body, gaining weight, she was the one that had to carry and bear those children. What did he have to do, give her his sperm? She was only 24 after all. She wasn’t ready, and it seemed Terrence was, and would push it onto her early in the marriage. She freaked and left him at the alter because of that.
One touch of the tongue to the Magic Banana, that Harold gave to his friend Vinnie, and an instant change ensued. Jake kept his glasses, but he looked much sexier in them now, as he was turned into a wavy haired blonde babe. Harold wasted no time in pulling out his cock, as he hadn’t been laid in three months. Before Vinnie even realized he was totally changed into a hot babe, the sight of Harold’s cock mesmerized him with infatuation and lust and desire. Now he needed to taste something a similar shape to the banana, only it was attached to his friend.
Ted was grabbing the shower head to get more water on his face, when suddenly he felt weird, and the shower head felt different too, as he was getting sprayed by something that didn’t feel or smell like water! He smelt and felt hot cum going on his face, and opened his eyes to a big hard cock spewing that liquid onto him! The Great Shift had put him in his neighbor lady’s body, Sarah Lakeview, as she was wanking off her husband Timothy Lakeview after a morning BJ!
I guess you could say I’m going out with a bang.
The witch was pretty clear with her curse: I would be trapped as a woman until I finally had sex with a man. Little did she know that being a woman is the one thing I’ve always wanted. I thought I would be content just masturbating as long as I got to keep this body, but it just made me hornier. Porn and dildos weren’t cutting it, and a female lover still couldn’t satisfy. I need the real thing.
Jason was a college roommate. I remember spending many nights on the other side of a door with a sock on the handle while Jason satisfied women for hours, women who always came back begging for more. If I’m only going to have sex in this body once, it’s going to be with someone who knows what they’re doing. I know where Jason works so I “accidentally” bumped into him outside his office building today. A pro like Jason could never resist a woman as hot as I am, especially if he can sense that she’s aching for it. As soon as we made eye contact, he immediately went into seduction mode – not that he needed to do a lot of work.
We rushed over to his place and immediately began attacking each other. Jason tore off my sheer blouse sending buttons flying across the room. I yanked off his tie and treated his shirt the same way. We clawed each other’s backs and licked each other’s chest. Like magic, he managed to make my bra disappear so that he could bury his face in my tits – such beautiful tits. I’m sure going to miss them. They feel even more incredible than I ever thought possible with a man’s hands on them, and my moans of pleasure let Jason know that his work was appreciated.
The foreplay didn’t last long. We were both too wild, too hungry. Jason slipped his hands beneath my leather skirt and grabbed me by the ass cheeks. I felt the bulge in his pants grow even harder when he found I wasn’t wearing any panties. Then, without any warning, he lifted me into the air. His strength made me giddy, and he carried me around with ease. I hooked my legs around his back, not because he needed the support, but so that I could hump him like an animal in heat. He dumped me onto the bed, and we quickly discarded the rest of our clothes. But just as he was poised at the edge of my vagina, ready to skewer me on his iron rod, I uttered the most unthinkable word possible: “Wait.”
This was it, my last moment as a woman. I knew I had to say goodbye, but I wanted to cherish the moment. And by “cherish the moment,” I mean enjoy just a few more blissful female orgasms while I still have a pussy. Jason knows how to please a woman, and he gladly let me work myself into a frenzy, enjoying the view while I fingered myself into oblivion. Having his eyes on me only made the whole experience hotter. It’s the most amazing pleasure I’ve ever experienced. But even this isn’t enough.
And now I understand that it really is a curse. I won’t feel complete in this body until it’s been impaled on a man’s shaft, but as soon as I achieve that, I have to say goodbye to this body forever. It’s torture. And the longer I put it off, the more maddening it becomes. But not much longer now.
“Alright, big boy,” I purred. “Fuck me.”
“What do you want?” my owner asked.
It was such a small, simple question, but it had enormous significance. Fortunately, my new, computerized brain processes information at blazing speeds compared to what my old grey matter could accomplish, intelligent though I had been, so I could really think about all the issues involved.
I used to think that I belonged in a male body. I was proud of my broad shoulders, square features, thick beard, and even the stereotypical gut that stuck out in front of me. But when my mind was dumped inside the synthetic body of a thin woman with perky breasts and butt, I had to completely re-evaluate my sense of self. As much as I would like to argue that our true identity exists in the mind rather than in the body, it’s hard to maintain that view when a different voice comes out of my mouth or when I have to brush long red locks of hair out of my eyes, a gesture that I never once performed as a man, or when I feel a stirring desire for flesh from the empty cavity between my legs that I never possessed before.
I used to think that physical pleasure was a distraction from the highest good of reason and self-reflection. That’s not to say pleasure was bad (I enjoyed a fair amount of sex myself), but it seemed selfish and small compared to the cause philosophy to which I had devoted myself. But maybe I thought that way because I had never experienced true satisfaction before. Now that I have a body literally built for sex, I can’t imagine how all my sitting around thinking ever did any good. I was still bitter and grumpy and often lonely. But as a PleasureBot, I experience the most incredible sensations of euphoria, not only be receiving pleasure, but by giving it to my master as well. The more selfish we are with our lust, the more happiness we create in each other.
I used to think that I was only interested in women. I admired long silky legs and lush round tits. Their softness, their grace, their quivering sensuality all turned me on in an instant. At first I was horrified to find myself inside such a body, feeling the jiggling of my curves and seeing the delicacy of my features in a reflection. But the more I saw the lust in my master’s eyes, the more I understood possessing those features I had always lusted after was even more arousing than seeing them.
And now that I am softer and smaller, it is the strength, the size, and the hardness of my master that makes me quiver. He took his time having sex with me the first time, tracing my contours with his kisses, stroking my skin in meandering patterns that sent electricity racing through my circuits. It was like he wanted to stimulate each and every one of the pleasure relays built into my skin. My consciousness wasn’t prepared to handle so many sensations, and I allowed the programming to take over, so that when I finally felt his rigid member slide into my soaking wet synthetic pussy, my high pitched voice blared the news of my first orgasm in this body. We’ve had plenty of sex since then, in all sorts of rhythms, rooms, and positions, and I know now that there is nothing else on earth that can satisfy me the way a man’s cock can.
I used to think . . . I used to think so much. As a stodgy and aging professor of philosophy, I used to spend hours just thinking, pondering, weighing ideas. But as an android, all these ruminations take only a split second. So it was really quite a simple matter for me to realize that all my old ideas about free will were wrong all along. None of us really has free will. We are a slave to our bodies and to our perceptions as much as androids are slaves to their owners. But I realized something: if I choose to accept my slavery, then it’s no longer something I’m forced to do, but something I want to do. That choice makes me free to fully embrace the person that I am. And the person I am now is a sex object.
“What do you want?” my master had asked.
“I want your cock inside me,” I moaned.
I’m scared. I’ve been scared for the last few weeks, ever since I threatened to expose my company’s illicit activities. Back then I was a man, just an ordinary guy working a dead end job who came across some files he wasn’t supposed to see. I should have done the right thing and gone right to the authorities, but instead I tried to blackmail one of the higher ups into giving me a promotion.
That certainly didn’t work. They laughed in my face, and before I even had a chance to reach for my phone, there was a security guard on top of me. It turns out there was a whole lot more going on at the company than what I had discovered. For instance, the R&D department had developed technology that could completely alter a person’s appearance, right down to the contents of their boxer shorts. It makes for a very effective way of making a person disappear without having to worry about a messy murder.
With the flip of a switch, I was transformed into a busty twenty-something with long dark hair, luscious pink lips, and smooth tawny skin; also with no identification, no history, and no credibility if I ever tried to reveal what I had discovered. But they didn’t stop there. Just for good measure, the company threw me on a truck bound for Mexico and left me on the other side of the border. They probably hoped that the streets of Mexico would take care of the murder they didn’t want to dirty their hands with, but so far I’ve managed to survive.
That’s not to say it hasn’t been difficult. At first, just walking with this strange new body was difficult. My balance is all out of whack, and I can barely see my dainty new feet past the giant tits on my chest. Fortunately, I’ve met lots of men who seem eager to help me out. Of course, that how it seems. Like an idiot, I had taken French all through school thinking it would be a good way to pick up chicks. I should have listened to all the advisors who said Spanish would be better for my future. Now I am a chick – the sexy kind that guys seem quite eager to pick up – and I’ve only got body language to communicate.
When the first guy bought me a meal, I knew he’d be looking for some sort of payment. The thought of spreading my legs for another man’s penis was unthinkable for me. I may have been given the body of a woman, but I still knew who I was on the inside. However, I was worried about what would happen if I refused flat out. I resigned myself to doing the second most revolting thing I could think of, but the only thing I knew would keep the help coming. When the swarthy stranger came all over my face, I coughed and sputtered and almost vomited, but the man still seemed pleased, and I had a place to stay for the night.
I move around a lot, repeating the pattern of that first night. Whenever a guy starts suggesting that he wants more than my plump female lips around his cock, I hit the road. After that, it’s a simple matter to find a stranger willing to provide for my needs in exchange for a blowjob. I’ve gotten used to the pungent aroma of a man’s penis, and I know longer freak out when it spews that sticky white fluid. In fact, I can even take an entire load down my throat without gagging, a fact I’m particularly proud of, though I don’t know why . . .
I’m scared – scared of how easily I’ve grown accustomed to this new life. I no longer mind when a guy wants to buy me a sexy new outfit, because I know it’ll help me ensnare the next one. I walk with a sexy strut, swinging my round hips like I’ve been doing it for years, and I’m no longer shocked when stranger stare at my ass as I walk by. And if I’m fully honest, I’m longer revolted at the thought of giving a blow job. I’ve even started to look forward to it. The thing that scares me the most is what I realized right when my tongue tasted the first sweet drop of pre-cum from this stud’s cock: I no longer think of myself as a man. It shouldn’t be that surprising, with my delicate features, swirls of long dark hair, and fleshy tits, together with my provocative clothing, perfect make up, and the cock between my hands. I’m all woman, body and soul. And if this man wants me to spread more than just my lips for his cock, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist.