Tag Archives: @Thames

Beyond Reason, part 2

BY

“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.

Scared

BY

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.

Too Late

BY

I lay in a hotel bed panting beside the bombshell I had just finished screwing. After I helped her escape from the lair of the sinister Dr. Doomstriker, she had been so overcome with emotion that she practically threw herself at me. Of course, I wasn’t all that surprised. Working as a secret agent, I’m accustomed to sleeping with all sorts of beautiful women in the heat of a mission. Sometimes it’s business, sometimes pleasure, usually both.
This particular woman, however, stood out. She was easily the most beautiful and the most vivacious in bed, but I also felt like we shared a profound connection from the first moment we met, it almost seemed like destiny. I was still marvelling at the pleasure we had just shared, when the woman said something odd. “Thank goodness we got a good fuck in before it was too late.”
“Listen, my dear,” I said, trying to sound reassuring, “the car we escaped in was the only one in the whole compound that didn’t blow up. We’ve got a 200 mile head start, and as soon as we cross the border, my team will be able to extract us. You don’t need to worry about Dr. Doomstriker anymore.”
“So cocky,” she said with a mischievous grin, gently caressing my penis, still flaccid and sticky from our recent exertions. “Though you have a right to be. When I was captured, I just knew you were going to come to my rescue.”
“How could you have known that?” I said, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“I’m going to miss you, Alpha,” she replied. “And that big meaty dick of yours.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, suddenly on edge. “You just called me Alpha. But the only one who knows that nickname—”
“Disappeared?” she offered, finishing my sentence. “On a mission to explore Doomstriker’s operation, right? I guess I can’t blame you for not recognizing me.”
“Mack?” It couldn’t be. Shawn Macpherson was the toughest son of a bitch I had ever worked with. There was no way this dainty, sex-craved nymph could really be my old partner. But then she twisted around and lifted her hair to show me the scar on the back of her neck. I recognized it immediately. It was a knife wound Mack had incurred saving my life from an assassin in Bangkok. “What the hell?” I screamed. Not only was my best friend a beautiful blonde, but we had just fucked like mad. “How the fuck . . . and why did you . . . ?”
Mack, or Sasha, as she had introduced herself to me, was incredibly casual about the whole thing. “It was Dr. Doomstriker,” she said. “He’s developed a compound that transforms anyone who ingests it – male or female – into a hypersexual woman. If someone meddles in his affairs, stands in his way, or even just irks him, they end up joining his personal harem of sex slaves.”
I looked at my friend in horror. “Does that mean that you . . . with Dr. Doomstriker?”
Sasha’s eyes grew hazy, and a dreamy smile curved her lips upward. “I know he’s evil,” she said, “but that man really knows how to please a woman. From the moment he entered me, I’ve craved the feeling of his big beautiful member sliding in and out of my wet pussy. I’m getting horny again just thinking about it.”
My insides were churning listening to this description. “Mack – er, Sasha, look. We’ll fix this. We’ll break whatever hold he has on you.”
But she shook her head, long blonde hair dancing around her sultry features. “It’s too late,” she said. “Too late for me. And too late for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
For the first time, Sasha seemed uncomfortable. She looked away and refused to make eye contact. “I’m sorry Alpha, but I had to do it. He made me promise. It was the only way he would let me suck his cock.”
“Sasha, what did you do?”
“The wine,” she said. And then I realized that she was staring at the wine glasses we had emptied somewhere in the process of falling into bed together. “I put the compound in your wine. You should start changing any second.”
It all clicked. The tingling on the back of my neck, the chills, the churning in my stomach. It wasn’t nerves; it was the beginning of a transformation. I was going to be a woman. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, wondering if my voice had always been that high. “We’ll find a way to fight it. The team will extract us, the lab will change us back, and everything will go back to normal.”
Sasha giggled.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I shouted. My voice was definitely higher, and my anger sounded like petulant whining. My hands were shaking as they grew smaller and thinner. Hair was trickling down over my ears. There was a burning in my chest as flesh began to push out of my bare chest. “No, no, no, no, no,” I groaned, feeling my lips plump up as I pouted. “NO! I will not be some mindless sex slave.”
But Sasha just smiled and said, “Trust me. You won’t be able to resist.”

One man’s curse is another girl’s pleasure, part 3

BY

“You like that?” Marci asked.
“Ohhh, fuck me!” I moaned, still revelling in how sexy this female voice sounds when I’m aroused.
“That’s the idea . . .” she said with a wicked smile, before once more burying her face between my legs. Marci was one of the sexiest women I had ever met. There was something about the way she carried herself – with a sexy strut and the confidence that everyone was staring at her. When she looked at you, it was like she was sizing you up, like she could see all your skin underneath your clothes. It helped that she also had a knockout body – lean and limber with perky tits. She’s almost as hot as I am now.
Marci and I have been friends for a while, but until not too long ago, she would have had no interest in anything more than that someone like me. That’s because she’s a lesbian, and I used to be male. At least until a witch’s curse turned me into this gorgeous piece of ass. Then all I had to do was send her a selfie with the word: ‘Wanna have some fun?’ and soon we were going at it like wild animals. I had always been more interested in men myself, but since I can only stay a woman until I have sex with a man, a hot, steamy cock just isn’t on the menu. But sex with Marci is still way better than playing with myself. Like that thing she’s doing with her tongue right now.
I think to myself: It’s so good. I want more! I want it deeper, harder, I want a cock!
There I go again. Lately it’s like I can’t help thinking about cock 24-7. What would it feel like to hold one in my hands, to pump that shaft until it shot its sticky stream all over my face and my fat tits? Or what would it taste like? How much could I fit in my mouth? Nine inches? Twelve? Could I take a cock down my throat without gagging? Just thinking about trying sets my pussy on fire.
I should really be focused on Marci. After all, she’s the one I’ve been sharing my bed with, and I think she might be starting to fall for me. But if her tongue feels this good, how would a cock feel? How hot would it be for a big strong man to plunge his iron rod between my legs? Marci’s hands are small and gentle, but I’d rather have a pair of rough strong hands grabbing me by the ass as a man plows into me as hard as he can, grabbing my tits roughly while he makes me scream.
“Oh god,” I moan as the orgasm begins to crest, “More!” I squeeze my own tits together and begin to thrash around on the bed. Marci is looking at me the whole time, and she seems pleased with herself for bringing me such pleasure. But as great as the sex feels, the truth is that I can no longer come without thinking of cocks – thick and rigid, spilling their seed, plunging into every opening of my body. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.

Up All Night

BY

The fiery light of dawn was streaming through the windows as I arched my back in a wild moan, convulsively thrusting my breast into the air while my lover, Serena licked at my pussy. I knew then that I had lost, and this would be my body forever.
It had been a casual conversation – the sort that happens between lovers who were supremely comfortable with each other. At that point, I was still a man, and I had just finished taking Serena from behind. We cleaned up the sticky fluids of our love and flopped into bed together, satisfied and exhausted. I commented offhand that we had never stayed up all night having sex the way that people do in movies, always too exhausted after one or two rounds to keep going. Serena gave a small shrug and said, “I bet if you were a woman we’d be able to.”
I should have just let it go, but my ego wouldn’t let me. A couple months earlier, Serena had let me know that she was bisexual, and ever since I had felt insecure about the fact that some chick might have been able to give her the same sort of pleasure I did. So, naturally, I took the very masculine course of digging in my heels and arguing. When Serena commented that she had pulled all-nighters with a couple of her college girlfriends, I finally blew up and said, “No way. No one has that sort of energy. It’s just a myth.”
“Just like magic?” she said.
“Exactly,” I answered.
And that’s how it became an actual bet. Turns out Serena was a practicing sorceress with the power to transform a man into a woman. I woke up in the morning as a slim brunette with perky tits next to a smug girlfriend. She gave me the whole day to get used to my new body, but as soon as the sun went down, we dove into bed. If we fell asleep before morning Serena would change me back and even “enhance” my cock. But if we stayed up all night, I would have to stay a woman forever.
I had planned to cheat the bet, to just crash after a few minutes of awkward foreplay, but that scheme evaporated the first moment that Serena pulled our bodies together. The soft flesh of our tits squeezed together, and my nipples grew hard. Her hands glided over the soft skin of my graceful curves. Our lips fit together perfectly, from the first kiss, I felt a gush of wetness between my legs. I couldn’t believe how horny I was, and my body responded to every touch with fireworks behind my eyes. I had no idea a tongue could summon so much pleasure, and I eagerly returned every kiss and caress.
I lost track of how many orgasms I experienced. I lost track of the time. I lost track of where my body ended and Serena’s began. There was only pleasure and the wild hunger for more pleasure. And that’s how we managed to have sex until morning. I might have been more disappointed at losing bet, but then a flood of pleasure washed all thoughts from my brain. Moaning and thrashing in bed, I realized that I hadn’t lost anything at all.

Revenge is a dish best served nude

BY

I had spent seven years trying to forget all about what I had gone through in high school. Then it all came rushing back when I rounded a corner and walked into a solid wall of muscle. I recognized the hulking mass immediately as Colt Stevens, the quarterback of my old school. He looked angry for a moment, then amused. “Oh hey, Princess,” he chuckled.
“I…you…my name is Richard,” I stammered.
But Colt just laughed. “What a pussy,” he said, pushing me out of his way to continue walking.
And all the memories came flooding back: being shoved inside of lockers, whipped with wet towels, hoisted into the air and nailed to a door frame by my underwear. All of it done by Colt Stevens. Immediately, I vowed revenge.
I started following Colt surreptitiously and gathering information so that I would have ammo to develop the perfect plan. The man’s most significant pastime seemed to be seducing and sleeping with women, so that would be the focus of my retribution. But I still didn’t have a clear idea until I went to the Ren-Fair and met a woman claiming to be a real witch. After a few demonstrations of her powers, I believed and bought a $1,000 spell for transforming people into any form you desired.
That’s how I got here. I transformed myself into a sexy woman – dainty and red haired, with cute, perky tits – just the type Colt always went after, hung out at his favorite bar, and waited for him to ask me out. It didn’t take long. I made sure to take several provocative pictures all through our date so that when it was over and I transformed back to reveal my true identity, I would have proof that Colt Stevens went on a date with a man – proof I would post on the internet.
The only trouble is, sex wasn’t part of the plan. I was supposed to change back before we got this far, but this body was just so hyped up in from all of the attention and physical contact that when we started kissing, I may have gotten carried away. I didn’t even realize how wet I was until Colt pulled my underwear aside and slid his massive cock inside me. I can finally understand why he’s so full of himself, especially with the way he’s filling me up. They should call him Stallion. God it feels good.
But I can’t get carried away. Sure, this body enjoys sex, and sure, I may have been a little curious, but this is still all about revenge. How much more devastating will it be when Colt finds out he had sex with a man too? He would never believe that the gawky, puny little weakling he used to pick on would ever make such a graceful, sexy, and vivacious woman. Of course, I never would have believed that those brutal muscles could be both firm and gentle at the same time while guiding me with each sweet thrust. And those muscles of his look even bigger than they were in high school, not that I was paying that much attention. I think I’ll even put a little spice into my performance. This is even more fun with a few sexy moans. Colt really seems to be enjoying it too. I can’t believe the way he’s looking at me.
Wait, what’s happening here? Why am I thinking about Colt this way? It’s not like I’m attracted to him. What the hell sort of revenge scheme was this anyway? How was having sex with Colt supposed to get back at him? Doesn’t it just make me look like the pussy he always said I was? But on the other hand, HAVING a pussy is pretty nice. Let me rephrase that: having a pussy is AMAZING! My GAWD! Who knew it was possible for Colt Stevens to make me feel this good? So good. So fucking good… Maybe I don’t have to tell him who I am after all. I like the sound of the name Rachel, and with just a few more thrust…I think I might…yes, YES, FUCK YES! I’M CUMMMMING!!!

Thinking Clearly

BY

I don’t understand. I don’t know what happened. I went to bed as a man, but I woke up as a woman. It’s someone else’s body, someone else’s house, someone else’s tits and pussy and raging libido.
Seriously, you have no idea how horny I am. I’m freaking out right now, but somehow I can’t help thinking about that space between my legs. It’s like I can feel the blood pulsing in my new genitals. It’s like a pleasurable itch I just can’t scratch, but every time I take a step, my thighs squeeze together, skin slides against skin, and the itch gets stronger. If only there was something I could shove up there, move it back and forth and relieve some of this tension.
This is crazy. I can’t be thinking what I was just thinking. I’m a guy. I’m supposed to have a cock. I’m supposed to be the one fucking chicks that look like me. I’m a real hot piece of ass now, and this chick has some pretty sexy outfits too, dresses that will really show of my long legs and low cut blouses that will provide plenty of enticing cleavage. The guys won’t be able to resist.
Shit, there I go again. Where are these thoughts coming from? Am I in the body of a slut? Some dirty, dirty girl who’ll do anything for a good fuck? Not that I would have to work very hard with a body like this, gorgeous hair, long lashes, and plump cocksucker lips. I bet this girl has sucked off a lot of guys. She can probably deep throat a cock too. Or does that mean I can deep throat a cock? Men always love it when you can take the whole thing in your mouth, especially if you swallow. Mmmmm, I wonder what cum tastes like . . .
No! I’m a guy. I’m not into any of that stuff. It’s just this body. It feels so good when I rub my pussy and grab my tits. God it’s good. I just need something bigger between my legs, my lips, my tits. I’ll let him stick it in my ass as long as it feels half this good.
This is getting bad. I’ve gotta get out of here. I need help. But who can I call? I need someone reliable and strong, someone with a big cock.
Fuck! No! I can’t think. I need cock. No! It’s like I won’t be able to think until I cum. And masturbating feels so good, but it’s not enough. I’ll just picture a hot girl – as hot as me! And she’s getting plowed by a stud with a giant cock. No wait, two cocks! One in her mouth, and one in her cunt. And there are other guys there too. She’s jerking them off and their spraying their cum all over, and it’s so hot, and sticky and sexy. Fuck, yes! It’s good; it’s so fucking good! I need COCK!

Illegal Downloads

BY

My eyes opened in an unfamiliar room. The last thing I remembered was lying down to sleep in my hotel room after having sex with my favourite Pleasurebot, but suddenly I was standing in some sort of waiting chamber. When I tried to look around I became aware of all sorts of strange sensations. Long hair gliding over my shoulders, weight shifting on my chest, cool air caressing my skin, and lace trimmed fabric wrapped tightly around the curves of a body I didn’t recognize. My powerful male body had been replaced by a dainty female. I tried to scream, but it was like the thought never reached my mouth. Still feeling panicked, I tried to pinch myself, hoping that this was all just a bad dream, but when my long fingernails dug into the skin of my soft, round butt, the jolt didn’t wake me. Instead, an aroused gasp parted my plump lips.
When Pleasurebots arrived on the market, the economy went haywire. Sure there was demand for the full range of androids available, but none were as sought after as Pleasurebots. Who wouldn’t want a beautiful sexual partner who conforms to your EVERY desire? As a man of exorbitant wealth and power, I’ve acquired quite a collection of them myself. And I’m always looking to acquire new models.
The only catch is that for any android to function, a human consciousness must be downloaded into the internal computer. Apparently this is what gives them the ability to process the subtleties of human communication as well as the spirit and drive to keep them from becoming too robotic. Naturally, this consciousness is entirely bound by the unit’s programming, leading to serious questions about freewill. So as soon as android technology hit the public sphere, all sorts of international legislation was enacted to make sure that the technology was used humanely. That means that no one’s consciousness can be downloaded into an android unless that individual chooses to, and that download cannot happen until after the person’s death – requiring uploads at regular intervals so that a copy of the person’s consciousness is always available. That’s how Download Insurance came about. It was a brilliant business move that I wish I came up with.
The trouble is, all of these laws and policies have really hurt the supply. Demand is up, but there isn’t enough consciousness to go around, especially when it comes to Pleasurebots. Apparently not many people are interested in having a life devoted to sexual pleasure for some reason. But with such high demand for Pleasurebots, there was plenty of money to be made by finding a new supply. That’s how illegal downloads came about. Certain people are capable of hacking into a consciousness upload matrix and downloading the mind of someone still living into a black market android. The individual who was hacked generally has no idea what happened and goes on with their life. Meanwhile, the version of them that was downloaded is unable to reveal what happened to them because of their programming. Then they get to have crazy sex for the rest of their existence. As far as I can see, everyone wins.
At least, that’s what I used to think. But now, I’m the victim. Someone stole my consciousness and dumped into this sexy body. I’m supposed to be a powerful executive, a well-hung silver fox, a MAN for fuck’s sake! To be trapped as some dainty female sex slave is humiliating to say the least. And when I pictured a lifetime of sex, it was always with my own cock, not getting ploughed by one! Of course, that pinch earlier did feel pretty nice. And I know these bodies are designed to deliver intense pleasure to the consciousness that inhabits them, so maybe sex as a woman wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.
How do I know so much about illegal downloads? Simple. The entire reason I came on this vacation was to buy a black market Pleasurebot. Also, my old body just happened to walk through the door of this room. Apparently, I just bought myself! I know I should be furious that someone stole my consciousness like this, but knowing that I’ll get to have sex with my own body is somehow…exciting! I’ll be getting endless sex with my own cock after all!

Far from Ordinary

BY

Tom had always been pretty plain and ordinary, and he had been leading a pretty plain and ordinary life. All or that changed, however, once he was accepted to Spellcraft State University.
Tom had applied to all of the schools with leading engineering programs and had imagined that Spellcraft was just the college founder’s surname – not a reference to ACTUAL magic. When he was automatically placed in Transformations I and Ethics of Magical Practice, he found out just how mistaken he was.
When his freshman year started, Tom was still dating his equally plain and ordinary high school sweetheart Marci. He never word have expected that his stable unadventurous girlfriend would have been interested in magic, but that was because he didn’t know her as well as he thought. She surprised him by asking all sorts of questions about what he was learning in his classes and about just what it was possible to achieve with magic. By the time they finally saw each other over Fall Break, she had a plan.
“You have a really good knack for this transformation stuff, don’t you?” she said, buttering him up.
“Well, I’m one of the best in my class,” Tom admitted, somewhat embarrassed.
“I bet someone as talented as you could make me more attractive, huh?”
“Well, I could probably – wait, what?” A flustered Tom tried to reassure his girlfriend that she was already attractive and that he loved her just the way she was, but Marci was determined. After years of feeling inferior to other women, she finally had a way out of her plain and ordinary existence. Tom was concerned about his Marci’s apparent vanity, but she managed to wear him down. He tracked down a dusty old tome from the library that had just the spell they needed. It was more advanced than anything he had performed so far, but Tom was sure he could make it work.
Marci was ecstatic. Tom was glad to make her so happy, but he still felt a bit gloomy himself. “Cheer up,” Marci said in an unusually bubbly voice, “pretty soon you’ll get to have sex with someone way hotter than you could ever land on your own.” The words stung, but Tom couldn’t help fantasizing about a sexier version of Marci, and a life that was just a little less ordinary.
So it was with a lust clouded mind that Tom cast the feminization spell. A shimmering glow gathered around Marci’s body. A glazed look came over her eyes. Her lips parted in a moan of pleasure. And that was where the changes began. Marci’s thin lips plumped up, and her voice grew sultry as the moans continued. Her hair, typically flat and dull, rippled with body and shine. But the real changes came with her body. Her limbs lengthened, graceful and smooth. Narrow hips widened, round belly flattened and toned, and breasts swelled well beyond the limits of her A cup bra.
But as Marci’s chest ballooned outward, so did the magic. Novice though he was, Tom recognized the rebound. Unfortunately, he was neither practiced enough nor fast enough to counter it. The expanding aura quickly enveloped him. Pleasure shook his body which began transforming even more rapidly than Marci’s. Body hair evaporated from shrinking limbs. Wispy stubble disappeared from his softening jaw. Large eyes fluttered with long lashes adding sensuality to a sultry face soon surrounded by long locks of blonde hair. His torso was rapidly contracting, especially at the waist, while his hips and ass swelled. Tom writhed and thrash, every nerve tingling. He panted in a high, girly voice, groping with slender fingers at the breasts swelling on his chest and the quickly disappearing penis stiff and sensitive. Beside him Marci was masturbating wildly as well. Her formerly unremarkable body was now sexy, tan, and toned. Beside her, the last vestiges of Tom’s manhood disappeared into a juicy pink pussy. Together, the two beautiful women erupted in orgasmic pleasure as the last of the magical cloud dispersed.
“Oh gawd!” Marci moaned.
“Oh god!” Tom echoed in a shrill voice. “What did I just do? I have to reverse this right away.”
“Wait a minute,” the suddenly stunning Marci said, laying a manicured hand on her lover’s shoulder. “Before you change back, there’s something else I’ve always wanted to try…”
Tom’s beautiful face showed no sign of understanding. It was cute how ditzy she looked. Marci decided to help her understand. She wrapped a long arm around Tom’s dainty body, resting her hand on the round swell of Tom’s ass. The other hand cupped a large breast delicately tweaking the stiff nipple. “Oh!” she gasped. “You mean…really?” Sick of fooling around, Marci silenced her lover with a passionate kiss.
Spontaneous gender changes were fairly common at Spellcraft State University, so there was no trouble when Tom returned from Fall Break as Tonya. The new girl dedicated herself to her studies, especially Transformation, and was soon passing her classes with flying colours. Of course, her grades did suffer a bit whenever her sexy girlfriend Marci or her giant hunk of a boyfriend Mark came to town. One thing was certain, Tonya’s new life was far from ordinary!

One man’s curse is another girl’s pleasure

BY

As soon as the changes started, I stripped off all of my clothes to watch the transformation in front of the mirror. It was just like I had always fantasized. With every nerve in my body tingling, my flesh was moulded like clay. Limbs thinned, and my waist pinched in. My ass rounded into a pert bubble, and breasts rose from my chest. They were beautiful and perfect, and I immediately cupped them with my shrinking hands, revelling in the feeling of my rapidly lengthening nails digging into the soft flesh. Hair rippled from my scalp like rivers as my face shifted and smoothed. I looked on in wonder as my crude manly features became graceful and cute, even sexy, with soft pink lips, a button nose, and dark eyes with heavy lashes. Finally my penis, fully erect from the arousal of feeling up my increasingly feminine figure, began to shrink in clear distinct bursts. Suddenly, the pleasure I had been feeling reached a crescendo. I collapsed onto my bed in a blissful orgasm as what remained of my penis shrivelled into a cute, pink clit, right above my blossoming vagina.
The witch said I was cursed, trapped as a woman until I had sex with a man in my new form. Too bad she didn’t know that being a woman is the one thing I’ve always wanted. I look down at my new body, still panting with the aftershocks of an orgasm, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to stay in this delicious body as long as I can. Sure I have to avoid sleeping with a man, but how hard could it be? After all, there are plenty of other ways for a girl to keep herself occupied. In fact, I think I’ll try one now . . .

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