Tag Archives: @Thames

Come With Me

Come with me.
I know that you want to. Your mouth is gaping, you shake your head in disbelief, you ask aloud how I could ever willingly subject myself to this. But you haven’t fooled me. I can see the way your eyes trace my outline. They linger on every curve. The swaying of my hips mesmerizes you like a hypnotist’s pendant. I see your desire – your curiosity. It can all be yours. Just come with me.
It doesn’t hurt – not really. Just a prickling sensation like an itch. But when the changes begin, so does the pleasure. You’ll see. It’s like scratching that itch – so immensely satisfying. The feeling of your body shrinking is like releasing a heavy burden. Fresh locks of hair streaming from your scalp is like pouring water over your head on a hot day. And your voice changing, it’s like a cup of hot tea, soothing and revitalizing. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?
I can see you thinking, desire and fear both battling in your mind. It’s not the hair or the voice that really make your heart race. You’re wondering about breasts. Are they heavy? How fast do they grow? How big will mine get? Your blush must mean that I’m right, but don’t be embarrassed. I asked all the same questions. When they start to grow, it’s like eating a hearty meal that fills you and invigorates you. They get more sensitive right away, so that each touch is like a match being ignited, lighting a furnace in your belly. And they grow to just the right size. It’s different for everyone, but when they stop, it’s like finding the perfect dress or pair of shoes – they just fit. Though I suppose you’ve never gone dress shopping before. But soon, very soon you’ll be able to come with me.
You’re getting horny, aren’t you? That will feel very different soon. It may seem unthinkable to go without an organ that’s been attached to you all your life, but once it’s gone you’ll wonder how you ever put up with it all those years. Don’t worry; it doesn’t just drop off – nothing so crude. It simply gets smaller, more compact. And while you’re changing, it actually feels like penetration – like your cock is encased in tight, hot flesh, squeezing it just firmly enough to coax sweet, sultry moans from your new soft lips. And as your penis concentrates into the small focused point of your clitoris, the pleasure increases exponentially. You don’t even notice the balls withdrawing into your body. You don’t notice anything until the slit of your vagina opens up. It’s like taking the first deep breath of morning after a deep night’s sleep or like the clouds parting on a rainy day so that warm shafts of sunlight can wrap themselves around you. It’s perfect. Then you feel the wetness, the hunger, the purpose.
Sounds good, doesn’t it? I can tell your desire has the upper hand now. Just give in! Come with me and become the person you were meant to be! I’ll teach you about all the sensations your new body is capable of. There’s the little thrill of having your plump red lips nibbled, the wild exhilaration of having your smooth round ass spanked, and the sweet agony of kisses, licks, and caresses on the inside of your smooth, shapely thigh. My hands will trace the outline of your new curves, hold you tight, and open you up. My tongue will teach yours a new language of pleasure as it dances across your nipples and drinks in the flood of your arousal. It’s like being reborn, becoming complete. Our voices will raise a primal chorus to the heavens as you come with me…come with me…
All you have to do is come with me…

The Audition

If you passed me in the street, you’d never expect that I was one of the most successful female porn stars in the business. Of course, I don’t really look the part: shrimpy, pale, bucktoothed – oh yeah, and male.
I had always dreamed of being a professional actor on Broadway or in Hollywood. But after two years of auditioning, I still hadn’t landed a decent part. I was about ready to give up when I heard about a special audition for a role paying up to $100,000 a year. It seemed too good to be true, which is why I was surprised that not very many people showed up at the little studio where the tryouts were being held. Apparently other people heard the news that I didn’t: the audition was to be in porn. Not only that, but unlike most porn stars who get to be famous as themselves, this actor would never show their real face. There would be no personal fame. Instead, they would be wearing a bodysuit to produce custom videos for wealthy consumers. Even though I had always wanted to be famous, I also really wanted to be able to pay my bills and buy groceries, so what did I have to lose? It was only when I got into the dressing room that I found out the other catch: I would be auditioning as a woman.
I had heard all about bodysuits – how they could make anyone’s body conform to their designed shape, no matter how different they might be. The bio-cybernetics also made it so that the person inside the suit could use all the senses of their costume, just like it was their own flesh. Of course, I didn’t think about how that meant I would be able to feel the weight of a woman’s breasts on my chest or the delicate caresses of long hair on my back. And I never imagined I would be able to feel every hypersensitive square inch of skin in the bodysuits moist pink pussy. It was a disorienting experience to say the least. But even more disorienting was the audition itself.
My instructions were very simple: masturbate, and bring yourself to orgasm. Now, I’ve watched a lot of porn over the years, so I knew EXACTLY what a male viewer would want to see. Lots of moaning and gasping; a woman groping her own breasts, digging long nails into the soft flesh of her thighs as the pleasure built in intensity; changing positions so they could see her with her legs spread, then a clear view of the tight gateway of her asshole, then her tits swaying beneath her as she rocked back and forth. And of course, they would want the big finish: a woman shoving her fingers deep into her pussy, thrashing as she pumped in and out, crying out in ecstasy as she urged on an imaginary lover. I had nothing to lose, so I figured I would give it my best shot. Lots of women fake it all the time. How hard could it be?
Twenty minutes later, I was peeling myself out of the bodysuit, trying not to focus on the taste of whatever fluids the outfit leaked from its pussy and which I had eagerly sucked off of my own fingers. Suddenly, the producer showed up and congratulated me. I had gotten the part! Apparently none of the other people who tried out were nearly as enthusiastic as I had been. The thing is, I had stopped acting about halfway through my audition. The succulent female flesh just felt so good that I got carried away. I don’t even remember half the things I moaned and screamed while I was writhing around on set, though I’m sure that you can download the recording somewhere online.
I’ve lost track of the number of videos I’ve done. Every day it’s a different bodysuit, and half a dozen different videos or maybe a couple hundred steamy photos. With my makeup applied, I give myself a once over in the mirror to see what I have to work with today: Gorgeous dark hair and eyes, killer curves, and a delicious round ass. And as always, not a seam in sight. I look just like the real thing. They tell me that today I’ll get to do a triple penetration scene: my favourite.
Now if only there was some way to make this permanent.

Signatures, part I

I knew as soon as I opened my eyes what had happened. I was free of pain, I was free from the beeping of monitors, and I had free, unrestricted movements: I had died, and my mind had been downloaded into an android. After a long losing battle with cancer, I spent the last month in hospice. Any time I was awake, I was signing documents. The name William Hendricks became increasingly illegible as I resigned from the various civic boards and committees, stepped down as CEO of my company, made a few last minute charitable donations, updated insurance policies and my will so that my wife gets everything.
My wife . . . I’ve barely had any time to spend with her – the poor thing. When I married a 25 year old at the age of 57, all of my friends and colleagues assumed I was just another shallow multi-millionaire picking up a trophy wife. But although she is gorgeous, I really do love her. I thought we’d have decades together, but the cancer started almost as soon as the honeymoon ended. Maybe it’s for the best. She doesn’t have to be tied down to an old man when she’s in the prime of life. We’ll both start over. She’ll find someone new, and I’ll work as an android.
With my resources, I could afford any Download insurance policy I wanted, but after a lifetime on the top, I wanted to get back to contributing to society, so I decided that, upon my death, I wanted to be downloaded into a labour android – cutting stone in a quarry or building and fixing roads, something that contributed society.
But as I looked around, the surroundings were far too luxurious for any sort of gruelling labour. And while my new body certainly moved with much more ease than the one I had just left, it definitely didn’t feel strong and powerful. In fact, it almost felt a bit delicate. For the first time since waking up, I tilted my head downwards. I saw breasts. BIG ones. They were wrapped in delicate white lace and long blonde hair tickled my skin where those orbs swelled out from my chest. I had a dainty waist and curvy hips and BREASTS. I see my hands move – those small dainty hands with the manicured nails are really mine. I lift them slowly up to my lace covered nipple and give a delicate squeeze, almost like pinching myself to see if I’m dreaming. But what I receive is not a jolt of pain to wake me up, it’s an electric surge of pleasure sent directly to my computerized brain confirming that this is very, VERY real. I gasp in a sweet, breathy soprano.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” A familiar voice asks.
I hadn’t even realized there was anyone else in the room. I spin around quickly, feeling a host of strange sensations: breasts butt jiggling, hair swishing across my skin – and there I see Collin Fordham, head of the legal division at my company. “Collin?” I say, hating the way his name sounds in my new sexy voice. “What’s going on? Why am I . . . How . . . ?”
Collin smiled, seeming quite pleased with something. “Come on now, BILL,” he said, emphasizing the irony of the name with my new form. “I would think you were clever enough to realize what that body of yours is for, right?”
“It’s a . . . Pleasurebot.”
“That’s right,” he said smugly. “That bod was made for fucking. And that’s just what you’ll do. As it so happens, the new CEO of the company has decided to buy a Pleasurebot for the executive lounge. You’ll get to service all your former employees.”
“The new CEO?” I said in shock. They had already replaced me? “Who? Who would do such a thing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said chuckling. “Me.”
“YOU!” I said, trying to sound angry but instead just sounding petulant, or maybe even lusty. “But how? And why am I a Pleasurebot instead of a labour android?”
For a moment, Collin didn’t speak. He just looked at me, smiling. I was furious, but something in my programming must have kicked in at that moment, because a new sensation came over me. In response to his possessive stare, I started to feel horny. My new synthetic pussy and ass began lubricating themselves, as if in anticipation of some sexual act. But then Collin turned away, and the spell was broken. “Oh Gwendolyn,” he called out. “You can come in now. SHE’s awake.”
Gwendolyn? But that’s my wife’s name. And at that moment, my beautiful, loving wife strolled into the room. “Gwen?” I said meekly.
She didn’t look at me. She walked straight for Collin and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. He grabbed her by the ass while her hand caressed his chest and then sank lower, to the massive bulge in his pants, which she gave a tight squeeze. In spite of my confusion and anger, I felt my arousal building even more.
Finally, the two of them separated and Gwen turned to look me up and down. “I’ve gotta say, Billi, you’ve never looked better.”
“But . . . Gwen . . .”
She shook her head. “So naïve. You really thought a gorgeous woman like me would fall for a used up old man like you? I’m a gold digger, Billi. I figured I would just have to wait a couple of years before divorcing you. Thank god you got sick so quickly. Collin here took SUCH good care of me while you were in the hospital. It was his idea to combine our shares and take over the company. But it was MY idea to turn you into a Pleasurebot. You never did pay much attention to what you were signing there at the end, did you? Well you may not have been much of a lover when you were alive, but you’ll have plenty of time to make up for that now.”


I’ve been a nurse in the intensive care unit for a decade now, and I thought I had seen everything. People shoot themselves with nail guns, break bones trying to be acrobats, and lose all sorts of objects in their anuses. Of course, there are also the people who are actually sick.
He said his name was Jason, though he could barely get any words out. He was sweating and shaking and coughing. We got him a bed as soon as we could and started to run some diagnostics. It was difficult though because he was thrashing and writhing around like he was on fire. His temperature was through the rough, his heart was beating double time, and his breathing was ragged. I had to get the two male nurses on the floor to hold him down so that we could do a blood draw and run some tests.
While we were waiting for the lab results, I had to see to a couple other patients, but I dropped everything when I heard a shrill scream from down the hall. The odd thing was, it sounded like a women, but there were only men in that end of the hall. Knowing how much Jason was suffering, I popped my head into his room. What I saw completely shocked me.
I could barely recognize the young man I had admitted. He had stripped off the standard hospital gown and lay in the bed completely naked. He was covered in a slick sheen of sweat and looked like he had lost as much as thirty pounds. It almost seemed like his waist was caving in before my very eyes. Wet hair was matted to his face and neck, though I could have sworn he came in with a buzz cut. His heart monitor was beeping at a furious pace, and I could smell vomit in the room. “Jason?” I said.
He turned to look at me, and his face seemed somehow altered. Perhaps his cheeks were sunken to make his cheekbones seem more pronounced. Oddly, despite his obviously awful condition, his face seemed almost radiant – smooth complexion, shining eyes, plump red lips. But then another jolt of pain coursed through his body, and he emitted a shrill scream. A woman’s scream.
That’s when I noticed what had been bothering me most about Jason’s appearance. His penis was gone. As a nurse, you get used to the site of people’s genitals. So I hadn’t been at all shocked by the sight of a vagina between someone’s legs, but this someone had been 100% male when he arrived. Now I understood what was so odd about his appearance; he was getting more and more feminine every moment.
Just then, Jason clutched his – or technically HER – chest. Despite her efforts to restrain them, large breasts were swelling beneath her shrinking hands. Hair continued pouring from her scalp as her hips and butt rounded out. As the changes finally slowed, Jason’s attempts to stop her breasts from growing changed as well. Dainty hands with long nails began groping and rubbing her new tits, and then one hand began snaking down to the pussy which had blossomed between her legs. Jason’s heart was still racing, and she was soon screaming again, but this time they were screams of pleasure. And plenty of other nurses were poking their head in to find out just what was going on.
The lab is still trying to understand the strange compound they found in the young man’s blood. Jason is still under observation, but she prefers to go by Jasmine now. I’ve also had to add a few new reports to her chart: bruises from rolling around on the floor, and irritated skin around the genitals from excessive friction.

Enjoying the View

“Pardon me, ma’am,” a strange man said. “Would you mind if I join you?”
“Excuse me?” I spat back with shock, confusion, and disgust vivid on my face. Then I remembered . . .
It’s not often that I forget who I am and what I look like since the Great Shift landed me in the body of a sexy young woman living in California. There are plenty of reminders after all. My voice is perpetually high and sensual, and even the way I pronounce words is somehow distinctly feminine. There’s the long hair that gets in my eyes, or the longer nails that click against hard surfaces. Every glance in a mirror or chance reflection in a window confirms my feminine identity. There’s the way my clothes cling and stretch around my curves or the fact that I even HAVE curves, bouncing breasts, hips that swing side to side, a tight, grabbable ass. Once a month, I get a very distinct and uncomfortable reminder that all my plumbing is female as well, though sitting down to pee and wiping my vagina confirm that too, as does the pleasure I’ve been able to achieve with that new plumbing. And then, of course, there’s the way that men stare at me with the same lustful gaze that this stranger has in his eyes. The regular bombardment of male attention I receive is an almost constant reminder of sexy female I’ve become.
But sometimes, I still forget. It’s not often, and it’s usually when I’m very calm, doing something I’ve always done. I might be reading a book, listening to music, or enjoying a cup of coffee. Today it was simply taking in a beautiful view before I go swimming. My mind wanders, perhaps recalling memories of the man I used to be before I traded my swim trunks for a bikini. I simply exist. But then, something always manages to pull me out of it, often with a bit of a shock.
“So sorry to bother you,” the man apologized. “I just thought you might like some company, but I don’t want to intrude.”
The man was polite – and not bad on the eyes either. In fact, the tall, dark, and handsome stranger might be a better view than the scenery in front of me, especially that bulge in his tight, red swim trunks. And then I felt the familiar stirring between my legs that had made it so easy for me to embrace my new life. “Actually,” I said with a smile, “I would LOVE some company.”

I know what you’re thinking

I know what you’re thinking. That there’s no way I could really be your best friend Kevin. And especially after what we just did. I bet you never thought you’d hear your wingman screaming out your name while you took him from behind. Of course, you certainly can’t call me a “him” anymore. As you well know, I’m ALL woman now – just the type of seductive morsel we used to hit on at bars and clubs. I think Candi is a better name for me now, don’t you? And it’s all thanks to the TG Flu.
I know what you’re thinking. That there’s no such thing as the TG Flue. That it’s just a myth or an urban legend. That’s what I thought too, at least until I caught it myself. I guess this is what happens when you bring home random women – you don’t know what they might be bringing with them. The girl was a knockout, with the biggest rack I’d ever seen, and she came after me like a jungle predator. It was incredibly not – feverish even. We went at it for hours, exchanging all sorts of fluids, just like you’re not supposed to when you’re sick. By the time she finally fell asleep, I was dizzy, nauseous, burning up, and more aroused than I’ve ever been in my entire life. An hour later, I looked like this – beautiful, round tits, long blonde hair, seductive eyes, and a pussy that was just screaming to be filled.
I know what you’re thinking. That a manly man like your old pal Kevin would never act like such a girly girl – putting on makeup, doing his nails, flirting with guys – even if he did have a pair of knockers on his chest. But honestly, I’ve never been happier. It’s so liberating to be free from all that chest beating bravado. There are so many more delicious things I can do with my new chest. But really, I’m the same old person. I still enjoy sex. In fact, even more than I used to. After all, you heard me moaning. Every touch is like a symphony of pleasure. And having your cock inside me… I thought I knew what an orgasm felt like, but the first time you penetrated me was better than every ejaculation I’ve ever experienced. And it just kept getting better until the climax hit me like a freight train. Now that I’ve had that, I can’t even imagine going back. That’s one of the other things about me, that hasn’t changed – I go after what I want. After twenty-four hours of playing with this delectable new body on my own, I wanted real sex. I wanted your cock. And I got it. That’s why I didn’t tell you who I was at first. I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. But don’t worry. I can tell you’re disconcerted, but we won’t be doing this again. Don’t get me wrong, you were great, but this was our only chance.
I know what you’re thinking. That the TG Flue stays contagious for forty-eight hours. You’re wondering why you feel so warm, even though you’ve got goosebumps. You’re wondering if that churning in your stomach is just something you ate, the beginning of an illness, or maybe something changing. You’re wondering why your cock is still hard even after three rounds of sex. And you’re wondering if your cock has always been that small. I’m sorry, buddy. I really am. But I was going out of my mind. And look at it this way: we can still be best friends! We’ll hit the bars and clubs together picking up dates just like we always have. Well, maybe not JUST like always. But I have to tell you, it’s so much better from the other side. There’s nothing as unnerving and thrilling as knowing that a guy wants you. And the sex! I know I keep mentioning it, but that’s because it’s amazing! Of course, you’ll know soon. I think I can already see the first swelling of your new tits. Hopefully you’ll get nice big ones like me. I think you’re already getting thinner too. Soon your penis will retract, and a brand new pussy will open up, already dripping wet and ready to be penetrated. And I’ll be here to help you get used to your new body. Trust me; you’ll enjoy it.


They told Harry his research was foolish, that it was a waste of time. But no one ever warned him it was dangerous.
For a scientist, Dr. Harrold Rasmussen had always been a bit of a Romantic. He liked to think that maybe there was some truth to the old stories about spells and magic. After all, if the universe and all reality was composed of vibrating strings, wasn’t it at least possible that the vibrations of sound waves could affect that reality?
The experiment was simple. He would set up a computer program to play random patterns of sound continuously to see what results they triggered. Once everything was set up, the project would run itself.
For three weeks, nothing happened. Then one day, a chair in the room shifted positions slightly on its own. It wasn’t much, but it was proof of principle. As Harry began examining objects in the room to see if any had altered states in more subtle ways, something strange began to happen. The random stream of audio began speaking. The program wasn’t meant to replicate speech, but as the learned scientist reasoned, any truly random system will eventually, given enough time, produce patterns that appear meaningful. Nevertheless, it was uncanny how much these random sounds resembled a female voice, and how lucid its words were:
“You seek a power you have not earned, and so a lesson must be learned. The mind and reason did you chase; now flesh and feeling you’ll embrace.”
Harry was eager to write down such a fascinating random event. But by the time he finally found a pen, it was held by a hand he did not recognize: slender, delicate fingers, long nails, painted and shiny. The changes extended to the rest of his body as he rapidly shrank in height and waist circumference, but swelled in his butt and his brand new feminine breasts. Loose skin became tight and smooth. Rivers of hair poured from his formerly bare scalp as his features shifted and realigned into a more graceful and feminine arrangement. Finally with a soft squelching sound, his penis slithered up inside his body to form a vagina. “Fascinating!” the scientist exclaimed in a rich, alto voice.
None of Dr. Harrold Rasmussen’s fellow scientists ever found out why their former colleague so suddenly abandoned his research, never to be heard from again. How could they have guessed that the man once doing groundbreaking research in theoretical physics was now a voluptuous young woman named Haley. Of course, she was still doing plenty of experimenting on her own – and she was getting lots of very exciting results.

Beyond Reason

Irony is a bitch. I have always trusted my mind. As an esteemed professor of philosophy, I have long argued that reason was the highest good and that only through careful application of logic was it possible to make choices resulting in a good and fulfilling life. But there is a powerful force in society that stands in the way of that possibility: the Download.
In their panicked rush to escape death, people sign up for Download insurance policies to place their consciousness in an android body after death – a body which then work as a slave for ten years. I used to lecture about it frequently in my philosophy classes, saying things like: “These downloaders turn their backs on living real life and spit on free will. It goes against everything natural for a human being. We have affirmed for generations that slavery is an unconscionable state, and now we subject ourselves to it by choice. Well you can rest assured, you will never find MY mind inside of some tin can.”
And yet, here I am – no longer a middle-aged, bearded male professor, but a dainty female android with plump tits barely contained in the most absurd maid outfit conceivable. I remember feeling pain, right in the middle of a lecture: a heart attack I got hauled off to the hospital, and when it became clear that I wasn’t going to make it, the hospital authorized an emergency download. One minute, I was breathing in sharp gasps, feeling my body shutting down, and then suddenly I was fluttering long eyelashes, feeling more alive than I ever had. I was also an indentured servant.
None of it was my choice. Apparently, when I was just a baby, my parents took out a life insurance policy on me, and they decided to add the brand new Download option. I never even knew the policy existed, but apparently, it was still valid. All those decades ago, when the technology was new, they didn’t have different levels of policy like they do now, but times have changed. Since this was such a small policy, I was automatically dropped into the lowest android option: PleasureBot.
So far, the only thing that my owner has asked me do is actual maid service: cooking and cleaning, that sort of thing. It’s demeaning work, and the way this body moves is inherently sexual: arching my back to stick out my chest, wiggling my hips, tits and ass jiggling as I walk. The worst part is that I have no choice in the matter. My programming forces me to oblige every command, no matter how degrading, with a cute little curtsy and the words, “Right away, Sir.”
Of course, with the way I’m dressed and the way he stares at me, I know it’s only a matter of time before he asks for something else. I’ve never been interested in men. In fact, I rather enjoyed being surrounded by beautiful young women on a college campus. But things in my head are getting weird. Every time I obey a command, I get a little thrill of pleasure. When I catch my owner staring at my ass, my circuits tingle, and I start swinging my hips even more. On top of it all, the programming that comes with this body is constantly bombarding me with unfamiliar thoughts. How do you apply reason to a situation like this? I don’t think I can trust my own mind anymore, because I’m even beginning to hope that my master will finally summon me for some “strenuous” duties.

Sea Legs

I have learned that people in this land think of Mermen as a joke, which I simply cannot understand. Mermen are the true masters of the sea. They can swim as fast as a swordfish. They have scales like diamonds and spines like daggers, not to mention they’re hung like walruses. And I was once the mightiest of the Mermen in the Atlantic. I once killed a giant squid with my bare fins, and I spawned scores of Merchildren with Mermaids all across the ocean floor.
But I made a mistake when I seduced the King’s favorite daughter. He was a powerful and vengeful ruler, and he commanded an army of beasts and Merpeople who finally ran me down in the Caribbean. The king wanted to kill me on the spot, but his daughter begged him to spare my life. But his wrath could not be abated. He raised the gilded harpoon he used as a scepter, pointed it directly at me. A glowing bolt of energy leapt from its barbed tip directly into my chest.
The pain was overwhelming. It felt like I was being cut in two and flayed alive. My scales were peeling off like a shower of broken glass, and my tail began to split. Bones shattered and muscles tore apart. I watched in horror and agony as my once glorious tail took on the shape of crude, clumsy legs. I flailed my new limbs frantically as my gills began closing up to be replaced by sacks of air. All the while, the King was laughing. This was it. I was going to die. The King hadn’t killed me, but I was going to die anyway while he watched.
But then my body started to rise. At some point, I had lost my swim bladder and my body was beginning to float. My head burst above the surface of the sea and I gasped desperately, breathing in air directly for the first time. Nearby was a sandy beach, and the current was pushing me toward it. I would live after all, but it seemed to me like a fate worse than death. The King had decided on the most shameful punishment imaginable for a proud Merman. He had transformed me into a human.
But what I hadn’t immediately realized is that he didn’t stop at taking my tail. My new limbs were so strange that I didn’t notice the other changes to my body, at least not until I washed to shore, sputtering and cold. I tried to stand for the first time, but I still didn’t know how to use feet and legs, so I immediately fell back into the sand. It was pointless. I was definitely smaller and thinner, and I attributed that to human frailty. There was also something tight and constricting wrapped around my body. I looked down and sighed weakly. They were human garments. Another shameful addition to my punishment. Then I did a double take. Those weren’t just human garments; they were women’s swimwear. Brightly colored and miniscule, the top squeezed around two mounds of flesh on my chest, and the bottom tightly covered my flat smooth crotch. Not only was I human, I was female.
My fins and gills were gone. My strength and power were gone. Everyone I had ever known was now gone from me forever beneath the waves of the sea. I felt small and scared and alone. I just wanted someone, ANYONE to help me. That’s when I saw someone else on the beach. They were a ways off, but they were getting closer. I cried out for help and for the first time heard my new voice. It was high pitched and sounded particularly strange above water, but it carried across the sand to the stranger. They must have understood something of my desperation because they started running.
Very soon, I could make out features of the approaching human. Only its waist and upper legs were covered. There were broad shoulders and a torso built with even more muscle than I had once possessed. The creature’s hair was short and dark above a head with a solid, square jaw. I assumed that it was male, but I was still pretty unfamiliar with humans at that point, so I couldn’t be sure. At least, not until he was close enough for me to get a better look at his swimwear. The shorts were on the tight side, which allowed for me to clearly see the massive organ that was barely contained in that fabric. “Wow!” I thought, “He might be a bit of a walrus himself!”
Then I felt something strange from my new body: wetness. My body was producing its own moisture. Having been born of the sea, this sudden trickle of liquid was the first thing that made me feel at home in this body. And the more I looked at the jogging male, the more wetness I felt. By the time he was standing in front of me, I understood what my new body wanted – no, NEEDED. Apparently the one thing I hadn’t lost from my old life was my insatiable sex drive. The only difference was, I now craved the thick meat of a warm blooded land creature. The man spoke to me, but I didn’t understand his language. I tried to tell him that he should fuck me like a killer whale in heat, but he just tilted his head in confusion. Well if we couldn’t understand each other’s words, there were plenty of other ways to get my meaning across. For instance, if I wrapped my new, plump lips around that massive cock of his, I bet he would understand what I wanted. I still wasn’t able to walk, so I started crawling toward him, but with what I had in mind, I wouldn’t need my legs much anyway. Maybe this punishment wouldn’t be so bad after all.

One man’s curse is another girl’s pleasure, part 4

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.”