Ever since ancient times, our pastoral town practiced a pagan tradition, welcoming spring by sacrificing the genders of four young men. I know what you are thinking, magic doesn’t exist. Wrong. The Stone of Venus exists. The lottery, the first stage in the Metamorphosis Ceremony came that year, and without fail my name was read from the hundreds of slips of paper that represented our community’s young men. My stomach dropped sick knowing the implication, and what it meant to refuse; even in 2016, declining the ceremony meant banishment from your friends, family, and our otherwise picturesque town. As fearlessly as I could, I let go of my girlfriend’s hand and kissed her tenderly on her forehead in the knowledge this would be our last romantic moment together. She stared aghast as I stepped forward through the crowd. My own Mother was picked many years ago, and now I would follow in her footsteps. ‘Come, come,’ I was ushered by my townspeople to the trail that would lead me to the the Stone of Venus in the grotto.
I stood before her with a broad grin, her body fitting perfectly into what I’d wanted her to become, every lush curve and inch of unblemished skin tantamount to perfection. Her incessant struggling against the two brutes was the one thing that would’ve perhaps damaged her image of being my ideal woman.
Aleksandr crossed his arms over his bare chest and stared indignantly at the immigration official leering at him. He let fly with an explosion of expletives, some in Russian and some in English.
I was just walking back from work when something in the sky caught my eye, it was very bright, with kind of a pinkish hue. Nobody seemed to notice it but me. After a few seconds the light just faded away. I just continued walking. I felt like everybody was looking at me. Girls, men, everybody, I just continued walking, but it felt really weird to have all eyes fixated on me.
I used to be a spy. I was hired to infiltrate a pharmaceutical company that was running some shady experiments. I was the best at what I did. Up until this time, I had never been caught.
After the great switch, I thought to myself, “Hey, might as well go ahead and explore.”
After the great switch, I thought to myself, “Hey, might as well go ahead and explore.”
You had one wish, it seemingly simple enough, straightforward: “I wish I was irresistible to woman.”
The room spins. You fall backwards onto the bed, you hold on tight, thinking that you’re about to be thrown off into some unknown space. Suddenly, everything stops. You’re no longer in your room. On the floor is a pile of female clothes: a tight tank top, a skirt, a well sized bra, and a thong. What the hell? you think. Your mind is foggy. Suddenly your legs feel itchy, hundreds of pinpricks up and down. Panicking you rush to take of your pants. You throw them aside as you see the last hairs on your legs retract into your body. You stare in confusion as you feet narrow, and your legs grow more slender, the once muscle defined claves and thighs blending in to distinctly womanly curves. You panic as the waistband of your underwear stretches, your hips are widening. You feel a swelling in your ass lift you a couple inches of the bed as your waist constricts. Suddenly, with each passing second of the inexplicable transformation, you feel a building pleasure. Whatever is happening to you is tapping into some uncontrollable erotic arousal. You breathe erratically as tightness builds up in your chest, you can’t breathe. You frantically take of your shirt to see your nipples grow, the areolas widen and the tips get longer…harder. A gratification culminates as the flesh beneath them expands. Bigger….and bigger. You see the distinct shape of perfect breasts begin to form. You can’t resist the urge to clutch them and realize that your hands are now significantly smaller, long nails painted a deep red. Your ass finally stops growing, reaching the proportions of a seemingly Photosopped model, but your chest continues to enlarge beneath your feminine hands, overflowing what they could contain, you begin to moan with the growing ecstasy, the nipples rubbing up against your eager fingers. Your shoulders suddenly narrow as golden hair pours over them. Your face is buzzing and you pull up your hand to feel the long lashes, smaller nose, and undeniably lush lips of a gorgeous woman. You continue to moan, sounding like a horny porn star. Your breasts are huge, but they haven’t stopped growing. At last your cock begins to throb beneath your underwear. You quickly yank them off. Your cock is shrinking as a moist slit forms beneath you disappearing balls, the hair around them disappearing to reveal the soft skin. The pleasure is unbearable, you begin to scream as your cock shrinks to form the top of your womanly folds, and your breasts stop swelling. Suddenly you are lucid again, panting in absolute arousal. I’m a woman! The door opens and the stark naked body of a sexy brunette enters. Her hair is tousled, her breasts just as large as the ones atop your chest, hips wide, and legs spread in arousal. She was a goddess. She stared longingly as your nakedness, breathing heavily.
It was supposed to be a joke. A prank against your recently dumped and annoyingly lonely best friend Dylan. You bought the body suit, cost a fortune but you could afford it, and the more convincing the better. You knew how much Dylan liked girls with a little extra so you put on that suit â€“ wide hips and a especially full ass, thick thighs, and huge breasts that would grab any guys attention no matter how much clothing you covered them up with. But you had to be sure, so you bought a push-up bra and sexy red dress with a plunging neckline that would catch Dylan’s attention for sure, perfectly complimenting the dark brunette wig, ice blue eyes, and plump red lips of the costume. You go to the bar. You find Dylan, drinking alone like he does so often now a days. You introduce yourself as Jessica, bite your lip, playfully twirl your hair around your manicured fingers, lean over and catch him looking down your gracious cleavage. He’s already drunk so he can’t distinguish the clearly pretend female voice. Soon you’ll break the joke to him, hoping it will give him a good laugh and get him back on his feet â€“ he has his confidence back, it never left. Such strong confidence. With every drink you push back the reveal, enjoying the attention that a horny man will give you, complimenting you, trying to put his arm around your narrow waist and caress that ass wanting to break free of the dress. You’re getting more drunk…his smile is so charming, you find yourself acting more flirtatious every minute. Before you realize it, you’re back at his place kissing passionately. He pulls you tightly against him, the silicon breasts pressing against his muscled chest, with one hand tousling your silky hair and the other reaching down your back to firmly grasp the shapely ass of the body suit. Maybe it’s the drunkenness but it doesn’t feel like his hand his on top of a layer of a synthetic ass, but rather you can feel the goosebumps along your soft backside as if it were your own. You feel the wideness of the hips, the curvy bounce of a womanly ass. In one swift move he pulls off your dress and pushes you onto the bed, still kissing you. Your wig feels especially tight. he begins to knead your breasts, barely contained by the bra. Beneath the body suit, you chest tingles and grows more and more sensitive to his erotic massaging. A new pleasure radiates as you can feel almost your chest swell to fill the mimicked space, you sit up panting and unclip the bra, feeling a new weight drop and hang into the eager open hands of Dylan. You notice the nipples are somehow hardened, even though the bodysuit came with flat nipples. They are especially sensitive now, and as he eases you back on the bed he flicks them with his tongue sending sensual tremors to every corner of your body. His begins to descend your stomach, kissing his way down toward your last bit of clothing â€“ your thong. Underneath the imitated flat female crotch you feel your erect but uncharacteristically small penis, struggling to contain itself beneath the suit. He takes off the thong slowly, sliding his hands down your shivering legs and around your backside, his hands clutching the side of your hips as he buries he face between your legs. At first you only feel the weight of his face, but slowly sensation grows â€“ you feel the wetness of a lusting vagina, the careful movement of his tongue between your folds, you can no longer feel an erection, only a void longing to be filled. Your back arches as a powerful wave of pleasure crashes over your freshly complete body. You moan in an undoubtedly feminine voice. You breath erratically as Dylan continues to explore you with his tongue. You realize that this is your body, there is nothing beneath it but an ocean of pleasure, and you realize you want Dylan to make you his.