I don’t know how and I don’t know why. I just know that I’m her now.
I woke up this morning in a familiar place but an unfamiliar body. Staring at my reflection I see a beautiful woman, sweet and sultry and enticing. She’s me, but yesterday I wasn’t her.
This summer was supposed to be relaxing, going back to my home town and spending two full months in my old house. I knew I was going to have to dodge my old enemy, my old bully. I just had no idea things would get this complicated.
He’s always had an interest in me, but this is different. He doesn’t want to torture me now he wants to have me instead. To take the beautiful woman that I’ve become. To make me his.
Teasing him, leading him on, setting him up to fall is dangerous. I’m playing with fire and as much as I want my revenge I know that my body wants something else.
When I look at him now I have a hard time seeing the man who made my life a living hell. Instead I see the man who can offer me pleasure, can offer me satisfaction the likes of which I’ve never experienced.
This new body, it has cravings, and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold out.
Excerpt
The truth becomes harder to deny then. I push to close off my senses while my mind races for excuses, trying to blame it on the dream or still being asleep but the evidence is mounting and it’s pointing towards the impossible. With my eyes closed my other senses are heightened, especially that of touch.
Specifically the touch of the sheets on a body that doesn’t belong to me, but one that I wear. I can feel it brushing over curves on my chest that aren’t mine, tickling against hips that can’t belong to me. I feel my ass beneath me plump and full and not flat like mine should be, and when I squeeze my thighs together the absence of my manhood makes my lips part in disbelief.
“What is going on here?” I ask.
The words are mine but the voice is too light, too high, too undeniably feminine to belong to me. The sound of it makes me panic for an instant as if I’m afraid that there is a stranger here in the room with me and I sit bolt upright in shock, fingers releasing the sheets as they fall down and reveal my body bared to the waist.
On the wall in front of me is a mirror and I make eye contact with the figure in the reflection and that just makes the dissonance grow.
She is stunning, every inch of her that I can see beautiful. Her big brown eyes so full and warm and full of light even in spite of the shock that is in them right now. Her cute little button nose set off in her soft face, lips full and plump even through her shock. Her neck is long and graceful, the hair tumbling around her features half wavy and half straight and a warm chestnut brown.
With the sheet slipped down to her waist I can make out only her upper body, but it is glorious. Her full breasts big for her petite frame and her body slim and delicate and feminine. There isn’t an ounce of waste on her, her whole being tightly toned but not muscular, still retaining the softness and gentle curves that make her look beautiful.
Alone she would be shockingly beautiful, enough to take my breath away and make my heart ache. Dressed she would draw fantasies to the surface of my mind both lewd and sweet, fond ideas of her on my arm and doing the little things to make a sweet smile play on those lips of hers. She could make my heart quicken with a glance, could make my body ache with a suggestive eyebrow raise.
But right now she’s not focused on any of that. She’s damn near panicking, her breathing coming faster and more ragged. Her eyes are widening and her mouth is going slack and still I can’t help but think how cute, how adorable it is when she looks like that even though I know that it’s not her looking like that.
Because she’s me. Because I am her. Because somehow, impossibly, that reflection is an image of my own body.
Shaking and trembling I crawl out of bed and stand in front of the mirror and I compare my movements to hers and notice no delay and no trickery from it. Every move I make, she moves instantly. As I turn with my eyes locked on her body and take in the sight of her from all angles, her trim waist and her full ass and the long and leanly toned legs she stands on, I know that I’m her.
I’m her, but I can’t be.