My big mouth got me into this trouble. Pissed off the wrong woman who happened to know things that went beyond the bounds of this world. She cursed me, made me see things from the other side.
Stub your toe and change into a woman, how is a guy supposed to get used to that? I know this is my fault for saying something stupid, but I’ve managed to spend the years of my life since it happened avoiding a change and keeping my secret safe.
Because the last time it happened I was out of control. The needs in my body were so powerful they couldn’t be ignored. Bringing myself to shuddering pleasure over and over with my delicate fingers. I barely kept myself in check and I don’t know what’ll happen if it happens again.
Years without an incident can make a man complacent. I was distracted in the locker room and didn’t notice that post, thinking about things I shouldn’t think about I stubbed my toe and turned into her, and only afterwards did I hear the door open and hear them walk in.
Three men staring at me, wanting my beautiful body. Three men, each of whom offer a unique experience. She wants all of them, and I do too.
And when I feel it happening I know that it’s right. It’s beautiful and powerful and it makes me feel like a goddess. To have all of them is what I desire, in every possible way.
And now that I’ve had a taste I want more. I want everything this body can take.
Excerpt
It might even have happened instantaneously.
It might even have happened only in my mind.
That was my first thought, that stress and the fight could explain all of this, that it was all in my head and merely a product of my imagining. Lying on the floor there was only one thing holding me back from accepting that conclusion as the truth.
It was a quiet voice in the back of my mind. It was a hungry voice that grew louder over time. It was a voice that was decidedly feminine and was begging for attention and more. Begging for hard touches and firm bodies. Begging to be embraced by masculinity and feeding on the attention of it. Telling me that I was beautiful and that I should want to show off, that I should want all of this because it was right and it was what I needed.
That voice grew in volume and force until it was demanding, and by the time I finally got the energy to push myself to my feet I knew that I couldn’t believe that nothing had happened. Something had changed in me, but the extent of that change was still a mystery to me.
Until I looked into the mirror and saw a reflection staring back I didn’t recognize.
The woman was slight but curvaceous, hard in the same way I was with a body that was tightly formed from hours spent in the gym. She had curves still, proud breasts that stood on her chest with only a very slight sag to them and pretty pink nipples capping them off. Between her toned thighs was her sex, glistening in the dim light of the room and flush with the need of the voice that I had heard in my head. I could only barely notice it though, my attention was fixated on the full plump lips of her mouth and her big eyes that took up so much of her face. I could only stare as I took in her beauty, seeing her staring back with an intensity and need that I recognized.
I’d seen that look when I toured around looking for women to bring home. She was wet and ready, needing a hard man to give her satisfaction. She was aching for it, her body vibrating as her hands moved to it, and only when she was in movement did reality set in and I realized that I was looking at a reflection of myself.
Oddest thing in the world, staring into a mirror and seeing someone else move. It’s unsettling I would assume, if it wasn’t done through magic at least. It would feel like there is something wrong and something is broken and on some level it did feel like that to me as well, but more than anything there was a comfort in me that I took solace in, the knowledge that this was right ingrained into me from the experience I had and overshadowed all the same by the need that I was feeling in that moment.
Oh god, I needed to be touched.
My hands moved of their own accord. I was familiar enough with the bodies of women that I didn’t need to worry about finding my way. I slipped to my knees and then back to spread my legs as my hands found my body and played with myself. Grasping at my breasts and squeezing, dipping between my legs and in past the lips of my sex. I worked at myself quickly, my touch only a fraction of what I needed but enough for the moment and the night. Enough to satisfy the immediacy of what I wanted.
Oh god, I wanted it. I wanted to feel what I was feeling and I wanted more. I wanted my fingers to shift to something thick and hard and pulsing and though my eyes were locked onto the mirror my mind was far off imagining far more.
She had thoughts and she had needs and they were mine too. She was the perfect embodiment of myself and I was relishing it, finding myself in her and finding pleasure from that the likes of which I couldn’t imagine.