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"Future"
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In a distant future, women are trained to be sex slaves and bought by wealthy men through Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. Follow the tale of Rinata, and her first experience with her husband, the man that paid for her and left her clear rules for his expectations.
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
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Hi! This little short story details my first possession experience - a cute college graduate named Olivia. In it, I tell you what I manage to do during my first of many trips controlling her, as well as plan out my future possession targets. I hope you enjoy, and please, let me know in the comments who I should possess next from the options at the end!
Let it be known that I tried my best to find other ways of possessing people. I tried to learn astral projection- no luck. Magic spells on the internet only made me look like an idiot- and let's not talk about the time my roommate walked in on me trying. I even dropped an obscene amount of money on a "possession potion" from some shady, occult website. All that did was land me in the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn't anything life-threatening, so I was able to be vague. I think the staff just assumed I had a bad reaction to some food or some drug. Either way, the only way that potion was going to allow me to possess people was if it made me shit out my soul or killed me, and neither happened.
Obviously, I had exhausted all other routes of actually possessing someone, so I ended up trying to find a way to possess someone over the internet. VR possession, while interesting, wasn't really feasible- much to my dismay after spending six years to learn as much about the fields of consciousness and technology as possible.
Thankfully, however, what I did find was an interesting line of research that eventually led to me being able to possess people another way- social media. I'm sure a philosopher could come up with several insightful critiques and thoughts on social media being the way in which I possessed and took control of someone else's body, but what you need to know was this-
If someone owned a social media account, I could possess them. Obviously, those without would be outside of my reach, but thankfully most of my potential hosts did have at least one account, somewhere.
As for what happened when I possessed them- well, it was rather rudimentary. Their consciousness essentially "went to sleep" while I was in control, similar to dreaming. I'm sure I could tinker with what happens to those I possess- but I was so eager to possess someone that I decided that was functional enough.
However, actually being able to possess someone wasn't something I wanted to do lightly. At the moment, I could get the software I designed to allow me to possess someone for an hour, at most. And I wasn't entirely sure if my induced sleeping would hold up while possessing my target. In order for me to not end up "blowing my cover," so to speak, that meant that I had to go outside of people I knew as targets to possess. And I really, really wanted to possess my friends. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a lot of women I found attractive, some of which shared my hobbies of basketball or video games. And as much as I loved the idea of possessing one of them, and perhaps turning them into my personal harem, or my perfect girlfriend, I didn't want to risk ruining my relationship with them until I was absolutely sure that I would be successful. So, I enlisted the help of other possession fetishists on the internet. They thought that I was just roleplaying with them, but thankfully, some of them were bold enough to give out the social media accounts of some of the targets of our shared fantasies. This, along with previous roleplays that I had done with other partners, thankfully gave me a wide range of people to choose from. Different countries, ethnicities, races, with differing levels of education, wealth, qand hobbies to match. I was certainly spoiled for choice, but yet I decided to possess a girl that one of my roleplaying partners and I had discussed at length.
She was in the same country- really close by, actually, so I could access my original body if things went really wrong. She was wealthy, so if I wanted to buy anything I could just use her money to get it. But most importantly- she was smoking hot. A wealthy, educated Latina woman, Olivia lived in Los Angeles, with a nice job and the entire world ahead of her.
Target decided, I loaded up my program and pulled up her Instagram account. After checking, and double checking that I had everything set up correctly- I pressed the button.
Now this sensation was one I was expecting- not the agony of a thousand suns that my stomach was subjected to by that fraudulent potion- instead, I felt a pulling sensation, and then…
Olivia. There wasn't any period in-between that sensation and me suddenly finding myself as Olivia. And would you look at that- she's on her phone, lying on the couch! Or rather, I was.
Ignoring my most base instincts to instantly strip and masturbate like a monkey, I instantly stood up to try and survey my surroundings… only to fall flat on my face. Ouch. Well, at least I had anticipated this. The code that I had written didn't really have anything to naturally access my host body's memories or skills- muscle memory and general movement included. And so what should have been something as simple as standing up ended up with me facedown on the ground. And it's not as if my senses weren't synced, either. I didn’t have full control of her body, but I certainly felt every mistake that I made while trying to move her body. It took an embarrassing amount of time to even get myself upright- much less standing, but eventually, I managed to stand- and then walk, and after about half an hour, I managed to look somewhat normal while walking as in her body, barefoot. Just don’t ask me to run, or anything too complicated. I was definitely going to have to use the data from this “trip” to streamline this process next time.
Gingerly walking around Olivia’s completely foreign house, I started going up and down her hallway, opening doors to find a bathroom. The first door revealed a rather messy room, with men’s clothing. That must be her brother’s room. It smelled a bit- I knew he did sports, and now I could confirm it with both my eyes and nose. Ew. I closed that door after a grimace, and then moved onto the next. This room, in stark contrast, was quite neat. A large, king sized bed for two people, along with a couple of dressers, and plenty of family photos. Yeah, this was their parents’ room. A further look inside revealed a bathroom connected to the bedroom- and a rather nice one, at that. As much as my curiosity wanted me to explore it, however, I only had about thirty more minutes in this body, due to the timer I set beforehand to automatically eject myself from this body, as a safety precaution.
And so I found myself opening the last two doors on this floor- the first was another bathroom. Not really much of note, here. Two sinks, and it looked like Olivia shared this bathroom with her brother. Good to know, I guess. Of more interest was the final door- a clean room, with a desk, laptop, full-body mirror, college merchandise, and dresser. About expected for the room of a young 20-something, but it was Olivia’s room. And right now, I was Olivia. I couldn't stop a grin from spreading across my stolen face. Masturbating was probably out of the question- I wouldn't want Olivia to wake up with her fingers jammed in her pussy when she was just on the couch a moment ago- but I could indulge some other desires. She was wearing what most would call loungewear: a tank top with no bra (much to my delight and slight discomfort), and some leggings that looked fashionable and practical for a workout. The clothes clung to her figure perfectly, and I found myself logging into a dummy account that I had prepared ahead of time to start taking pictures. It was selfie time! One of Olivia smiling. Another of her frowning. One with her tongue out. One blowing a kiss. And then the rest of her body. Pics of her ass. Some of her tits. Full-body selfies showing off the cute little outfit she put on. And then… taking the outfit off. A picture of me smiling with her breasts exposed. A selfie with me spreading her pussy lips open for the camera. Then came the videos. Slowly, sensually, stripping for the camera. Dirty talk, making her vocalize all of my dirtiest fantasies in the bedroom- and outside of it. Fake confessions of devious, unbelievably perverted actions.
As much fun as I was having, though, the one hour mark was coming soon, and so I saved the photos and videos to the dummy account, and deleted them off her phone. I threw her clothes back on, and went back to the couch, lying down in the same space I had taken over. With any luck, she'd just think she had lost track of time while browsing on her phone. Hopefully. Watching as the time ticked by, I felt a familiar pulling sensation, and then…
Me. Yep, home sweet home- and I wasn't dead. I removed some of the wires and other equipment I had attached to me for the procedure to work, and stood up.
And then I yelled. I had really did it! Holy shit, I had managed to possess someone! And as far as I could tell, she was asleep the whole time! Obviously, I had some things to fix, and improvements to make, but the most important part was confirmed- I, a somewhat lonely 28 year old with a Master's Degree in computer science, a love for basketball and video games, and an almost insane, hidden obsession with possession, bodyswapping, and all other sorts of TSF tropes- had successfully possessed someone. As elated as I was with my success, another part of me was already planning on who to hop next. I wanted to possess someone that I knew this time, and a few options popped to mind.
Tina, my Vietnamese high school crush, with a degree in Computer Science and a top-tier job at a tech company, who didn't reciprocate my feelings at all.
Jane, a Chinese-American girl, this time from my university. A marketing major, she worked for a video game company and was a big advocate for women's rights. I never really talked to her, but I definitely lusted after her.
And finally, Andrea. A white girl, also with a computer science degree, who I had taken quite a few classes with and developed a massive crush on. She worked at the same company as Jane, and was part of the same women's rights advocacy group as Jane.
Options in mind, I wondered who my next trip would be as…
Let it be known that I tried my best to find other ways of possessing people. I tried to learn astral projection- no luck. Magic spells on the internet only made me look like an idiot- and let's not talk about the time my roommate walked in on me trying. I even dropped an obscene amount of money on a "possession potion" from some shady, occult website. All that did was land me in the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn't anything life-threatening, so I was able to be vague. I think the staff just assumed I had a bad reaction to some food or some drug. Either way, the only way that potion was going to allow me to possess people was if it made me shit out my soul or killed me, and neither happened.
Obviously, I had exhausted all other routes of actually possessing someone, so I ended up trying to find a way to possess someone over the internet. VR possession, while interesting, wasn't really feasible- much to my dismay after spending six years to learn as much about the fields of consciousness and technology as possible.
Thankfully, however, what I did find was an interesting line of research that eventually led to me being able to possess people another way- social media. I'm sure a philosopher could come up with several insightful critiques and thoughts on social media being the way in which I possessed and took control of someone else's body, but what you need to know was this-
If someone owned a social media account, I could possess them. Obviously, those without would be outside of my reach, but thankfully most of my potential hosts did have at least one account, somewhere.
As for what happened when I possessed them- well, it was rather rudimentary. Their consciousness essentially "went to sleep" while I was in control, similar to dreaming. I'm sure I could tinker with what happens to those I possess- but I was so eager to possess someone that I decided that was functional enough.
However, actually being able to possess someone wasn't something I wanted to do lightly. At the moment, I could get the software I designed to allow me to possess someone for an hour, at most. And I wasn't entirely sure if my induced sleeping would hold up while possessing my target. In order for me to not end up "blowing my cover," so to speak, that meant that I had to go outside of people I knew as targets to possess. And I really, really wanted to possess my friends. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a lot of women I found attractive, some of which shared my hobbies of basketball or video games. And as much as I loved the idea of possessing one of them, and perhaps turning them into my personal harem, or my perfect girlfriend, I didn't want to risk ruining my relationship with them until I was absolutely sure that I would be successful. So, I enlisted the help of other possession fetishists on the internet. They thought that I was just roleplaying with them, but thankfully, some of them were bold enough to give out the social media accounts of some of the targets of our shared fantasies. This, along with previous roleplays that I had done with other partners, thankfully gave me a wide range of people to choose from. Different countries, ethnicities, races, with differing levels of education, wealth, qand hobbies to match. I was certainly spoiled for choice, but yet I decided to possess a girl that one of my roleplaying partners and I had discussed at length.
She was in the same country- really close by, actually, so I could access my original body if things went really wrong. She was wealthy, so if I wanted to buy anything I could just use her money to get it. But most importantly- she was smoking hot. A wealthy, educated Latina woman, Olivia lived in Los Angeles, with a nice job and the entire world ahead of her.
Target decided, I loaded up my program and pulled up her Instagram account. After checking, and double checking that I had everything set up correctly- I pressed the button.
Now this sensation was one I was expecting- not the agony of a thousand suns that my stomach was subjected to by that fraudulent potion- instead, I felt a pulling sensation, and then…
Olivia. There wasn't any period in-between that sensation and me suddenly finding myself as Olivia. And would you look at that- she's on her phone, lying on the couch! Or rather, I was.
Ignoring my most base instincts to instantly strip and masturbate like a monkey, I instantly stood up to try and survey my surroundings… only to fall flat on my face. Ouch. Well, at least I had anticipated this. The code that I had written didn't really have anything to naturally access my host body's memories or skills- muscle memory and general movement included. And so what should have been something as simple as standing up ended up with me facedown on the ground. And it's not as if my senses weren't synced, either. I didn’t have full control of her body, but I certainly felt every mistake that I made while trying to move her body. It took an embarrassing amount of time to even get myself upright- much less standing, but eventually, I managed to stand- and then walk, and after about half an hour, I managed to look somewhat normal while walking as in her body, barefoot. Just don’t ask me to run, or anything too complicated. I was definitely going to have to use the data from this “trip” to streamline this process next time.
Gingerly walking around Olivia’s completely foreign house, I started going up and down her hallway, opening doors to find a bathroom. The first door revealed a rather messy room, with men’s clothing. That must be her brother’s room. It smelled a bit- I knew he did sports, and now I could confirm it with both my eyes and nose. Ew. I closed that door after a grimace, and then moved onto the next. This room, in stark contrast, was quite neat. A large, king sized bed for two people, along with a couple of dressers, and plenty of family photos. Yeah, this was their parents’ room. A further look inside revealed a bathroom connected to the bedroom- and a rather nice one, at that. As much as my curiosity wanted me to explore it, however, I only had about thirty more minutes in this body, due to the timer I set beforehand to automatically eject myself from this body, as a safety precaution.
And so I found myself opening the last two doors on this floor- the first was another bathroom. Not really much of note, here. Two sinks, and it looked like Olivia shared this bathroom with her brother. Good to know, I guess. Of more interest was the final door- a clean room, with a desk, laptop, full-body mirror, college merchandise, and dresser. About expected for the room of a young 20-something, but it was Olivia’s room. And right now, I was Olivia. I couldn't stop a grin from spreading across my stolen face. Masturbating was probably out of the question- I wouldn't want Olivia to wake up with her fingers jammed in her pussy when she was just on the couch a moment ago- but I could indulge some other desires. She was wearing what most would call loungewear: a tank top with no bra (much to my delight and slight discomfort), and some leggings that looked fashionable and practical for a workout. The clothes clung to her figure perfectly, and I found myself logging into a dummy account that I had prepared ahead of time to start taking pictures. It was selfie time! One of Olivia smiling. Another of her frowning. One with her tongue out. One blowing a kiss. And then the rest of her body. Pics of her ass. Some of her tits. Full-body selfies showing off the cute little outfit she put on. And then… taking the outfit off. A picture of me smiling with her breasts exposed. A selfie with me spreading her pussy lips open for the camera. Then came the videos. Slowly, sensually, stripping for the camera. Dirty talk, making her vocalize all of my dirtiest fantasies in the bedroom- and outside of it. Fake confessions of devious, unbelievably perverted actions.
As much fun as I was having, though, the one hour mark was coming soon, and so I saved the photos and videos to the dummy account, and deleted them off her phone. I threw her clothes back on, and went back to the couch, lying down in the same space I had taken over. With any luck, she'd just think she had lost track of time while browsing on her phone. Hopefully. Watching as the time ticked by, I felt a familiar pulling sensation, and then…
Me. Yep, home sweet home- and I wasn't dead. I removed some of the wires and other equipment I had attached to me for the procedure to work, and stood up.
And then I yelled. I had really did it! Holy shit, I had managed to possess someone! And as far as I could tell, she was asleep the whole time! Obviously, I had some things to fix, and improvements to make, but the most important part was confirmed- I, a somewhat lonely 28 year old with a Master's Degree in computer science, a love for basketball and video games, and an almost insane, hidden obsession with possession, bodyswapping, and all other sorts of TSF tropes- had successfully possessed someone. As elated as I was with my success, another part of me was already planning on who to hop next. I wanted to possess someone that I knew this time, and a few options popped to mind.
Tina, my Vietnamese high school crush, with a degree in Computer Science and a top-tier job at a tech company, who didn't reciprocate my feelings at all.
Jane, a Chinese-American girl, this time from my university. A marketing major, she worked for a video game company and was a big advocate for women's rights. I never really talked to her, but I definitely lusted after her.
And finally, Andrea. A white girl, also with a computer science degree, who I had taken quite a few classes with and developed a massive crush on. She worked at the same company as Jane, and was part of the same women's rights advocacy group as Jane.
Options in mind, I wondered who my next trip would be as…
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Uh, hi. I’m Ross. I’m a university student in the not-so far off future of 2103. Huh.. alright, how to describe my last twelve hours… Well, I've certainly learned a lot. hahaha... Experienced a whole bunch of first times. Hm... okay so this was how it went down. After an exam yesterday evening, I was all set to go grab dinner with some of my buddies from class when my girlfriend sends me a message. Turns out she was hella horny now that the test was over so I gave my friends a rain check and went to meet up with her. After a bit, though, my gf messaged and canceled on me! Frustrated at being jerked around, when another girl hit on me, I had a moment of weakness and agreed to fool around with her instead.Turns out this other girl had some wild secrets of her own, and things only got crazier from there. I learned about an entire fetish I never new existed and I got to have a threesome! It was a bit of a rollercoaster of emotions, but I think I came out of the whole ordeal a better, more experienced boyfriend, and you know, I think I am looking forward to the next time we get a chance to have some fun!
“Alright, time. Everyone, pencils down. I don’t want to see anyone writing any further.”
I had finished scrawling down my last answer not seconds before the proctor announced time. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief now that the exam was over, but, as I prepared to hand my papers forward, I noticed at the last second that I had forgotten to write my name and the date at the top. My heart jumped as I crouched forward, hoping Jordan’s board shoulders in the seat ahead of me would hide my pencil strokes as I hastily jotted down the missing identification information.
“Proctor called time, Ross. Hand it up,” Jordan turned in his seat and reached for my test smugly, but I had already finished by then.
“Nice try, asshole, it was just my name that I almost forgot,” I sneered back, letting Jordan take the papers from my desk and passed them forward along with his own. The disagreeable guy scowled, realizing he hadn’t caught me as off guard as he’d hoped.
I maintained my air of indifference until he had turned away before allowing myself a cringe.
“Realize you made a mistake already?” My friend Ian chuckled as he wandered over to chat now that the test was over. The dark brown skinned young man leaned casually against my desk, his cargo pants bulging as usual with who knew what odds and ends he loved stuffing in the pockets of the retro threads.
I shook my head and grabbed my bag, turning away so that Jordan wouldn’t overhear; Ian followed the short way from my desk to the back of the classroom. “Nah, just wrote 2102 instead of 2103 for the year.”
Ian laughed, snorting slightly. “I’ve done that before. We’re only a month into the new year, so it happens. Luckily most things auto-fill or timestamp these days. Sucks that this course is required for us – it’s one of the few with a professor that still insists on using physical media exams. Oh, here, I grabbed your phone for you while I was up getting mine.”
“Thanks,” I sighed, accepting my phone with one hand and wagging my mechanical pencil at my friend with the other. “Seriously, they make us go out and buy a friggin antique just for this class.”
“If it were all digital like the other classes, everyone would just look up all the answers online, like in other classes,” Jordan asserted, inviting himself into our conversation. He and Ian bumped fists, but he knew better by now than to try offering the same gesture to me. “Why else do we have to surrender our phones before we start?” They were friends, God knows why; bless Ian for being able to get along with anyone.
“I dunno. If the questions are so straightforward that an Internet connection was all that was required to cheat, then maybe it’s not the technology that’s the problem. Despite what you’re implying most other digital classes don’t have an issue with cheating just because we can be online at the same time.” I shot back, unlocking my phone to see a waiting message. It was from my girlfriend, Carole.
I glanced up across the room, spotting Carole herself with her friends. The adorable redhead noticed my look and hid a mischievous smile behind her own phone’s hot pink case. Her blouse today was a creamy off white with a light pink floral pattern and puffy, frilly short sleeves. I caught a glimpse of her knees squirming a little, black dyed denim capris that fit tight to her thin figure. One of her friends, a cute short haired blonde with freckles named Amy if I recalled, said something that drew her attention and she answered them, her cherry glazed lips reappearing in my view as she lowered her phone, but the girls were too far away for me to overhear. I was, however, close enough to hear Jordan still running his mouth.
“Technology has advanced disproportionately in the last hundred years because of industrial lobbying power.” Jordan grumbled. “We have autonomous android servants dressed in advanced skins that make them virtually indistinguishable from normal people, yet science has yet to figure out teleportation and lobbyists have us still using cars with tires because, heaven forbid an antiquated industry like tire production go out of business. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the true disappointment is that modern society has been dealing with the same social issues from hundreds of years ago, like transphobia and homophobia, and those two in particular have somehow gotten worse than they were a hundred years ago!”
“Hate to remind you, but homophobia and transphobia have basically been around for all of recorded history. If we haven’t stamped them out yet, chances are, we won’t ever,” I responded tiredly. It was becoming a stock response when Jordan inevitably steered conversation to these topics.
On principal, “Love-rights” was, blessedly, something Jordan and I agreed on: everyone should just mind their damn business and let other people love who they want. Assuming their partner loves them back, of course. But the way Jordan always managed to bend every conversation to these topics had quickly become tiring. I suspected Ian felt similarly. The otherwise unflappable and chill guy frequently seemed eager to change the subject when Jordan brought it up.
“Oookay. You know, this is a fascinating debate I’ve heard twenty times now, but don’t you suppose we could move on from the classroom?” Ian interjected, sensing things getting heated. I sighed and nodded as we filed out of the classroom.
“Just because it’s always been a problem doesn’t mean we should get complacent and stop fighting it!” Jordan made his usual closing remark on the topic
“Alright,” Ian clapped his hands, drawing our attention. “Regardless of exams or human rights, it’s Ross’s turn to pick a place for dinner tonight. You wanted to go to Arnold’s Diner, right?”
“Wow, that was a transition. Actually, though, sorry guys, something came up. You and Steve can go get dinner without me,” I announced carefully.
Ian blinked. “Hm? Sure, alright, I suppose. I thought you were finally looking forward to getting to pick Arnie’s Diner, but sometimes it do be that way, right? I’ll call Steve and see if he still wants to go there or somewhere else.”
“You guys were getting dinner together?” Jordan piped up, following Ian as the latter dialed up our mutual friend. “I know a place that just opened up…”
With my friends on their way out, I hefted my bag over my shoulder and glanced across the room once again. Carole and her friends had already left. I smiled to myself. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.
______________________________
Despite what I thought. I was the one who ended up waiting. As per Carole’s instructions, I was to meet her outside the convenience store we frequented on our walk to and from campus. Even though she left the classroom before I had, I seemed to have beaten her there. But perhaps I had my own eagerness to blame.
Lately, Carole and I had found a new spark in our love life. When I found out last week that Carole had a good eye for security cameras and their range of view, I jumped at the chance to propose the salacious challenge of finding somewhere outside that we could make out that wouldn’t have a digital audience. Imagine my excitement at the chance to introduce her to my public sex fetish! In the modern age, it was quite a challenge, but we had found a few spots since, and had both taken quite a shine to getting dirty and even doing the deed in those blind spots where we thought we could get away with it.
When Carole asked to meet here, by this convenience store, I instantly knew what she was implying. The most recent blind spot she had found was in the alley that went behind the store building, and we hadn’t made plans yet because of the exam today. With the test finished, a little public-not-public romp sounded like a fantastic way to blow off steam.
Still, I wasn’t going to have much fun by my lonesome so until Carole arrived, I seemed to have some time to kill. My stomach growled so I turned, and sauntered into the store to look for a snack. On the way in, I was greeted by a girl in a skimpy bunny suit.
“Welcome! Hop you find everything you’re looking for, and if you need assistance, don’t hesitate to ask!”
Anyone with rudimentary understanding of footwear would balk at an employee willing to spend all day standing in heels much less dress so lasciviously in public. Fortunately, the bunny suit wearing girl felt neither pain in her feet nor shame over how much skin her outfit revealed. She was a customer service android dolled up in the latest big breasted skin. I mostly knew because the store had been required to post clear signage that they were buying and employing her in advance of her debut, but aside from that the only other give away was her lack of shame and her inhuman stamina. And the heels.
I also happened to know that that model and outfit were designed for casinos, but the proprietor, a dirty old man I knew by “Randall” had done well enough for himself even on his lonesome in this location surrounded by affluent neighborhoods that he’d apparently saved up enough to buy the robotic help. Randall was fairly unsociable himself, so the chipper young woman-looking android picked up a lot of slack and may have even paid for herself already. Given his eternal bachelor status, I’d be willing to bet Randall had also paid for the ability to bring his bunny girl to bed with him. Not that I could blame him; she was designed to be hot.
As usual, old man Randall himself was behind the counter and he gave me a disinterested nod before returning to whatever he was reading on his tablet, leaving me to browse the shelves. In the back, I happened upon a real treat, but not the kind of snack I was looking for.
“Hm? What’cha looking at?”
A college aged girl (though no one I had ever seen on campus to my knowledge) was staring down the coffee cans when she noticed that I couldn’t help but stare. When she turned to face me, she only gave me more to see. A low cut yellow halter top barely contained her huge tanned rack – just one might have been nearly as big as my head! Despite the knockers, her waist cut in pleasingly before her bodyline flared out again at her hips before flowing down long, shapely legs. I barely noticed her booty shorts on my first pass, there was so little to them, she almost might as well have been wearing a denim thong. The last thing I noticed was that she had long, strawberry blonde hair tied up in a side tail that ended with a little curl and soft gray eyes with long eyelashes.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat and, by sheer force of will, forced myself to turn away. “Sorry,” I mumbled, hoping not to make a scene, since I was definitely hard just from looking. With what I was hoping to do with my girlfriend soon, the last thing I needed was to make trouble and draw attention to myself.
The girl sniffed dismissively and but thankfully left me alone, swaying away to a different aisle. I pretended to examine the ice cream as I calmed myself down. Finally, I grabbed a milkshake and paid for it before walking out of the store and settling on the curb. As I slurped my sweet treat, I tried to think about other things, to mixed success.
I had only ever seen those kinds of proportions on sex androids. Between her outfit and her curves, she could even make Randall’s bunny girl blush! Well, probably not technically, but having seen both recently, the comparison was fresh in my mind. Somehow this strange girl had the market-ready sex appeal robot beat.
Could this girl actually have been a sex bot herself? No, that couldn’t be the case – As far as I could tell she had been alone and androids were required to remain in the supervision of their human owner when in public. It was one of those safeguard policies. Android skins were getting so good in recent years that they could be visibly indistinguishable from normal humans which naturally could be a problem if not for mandates like that. And I supposed with regard to sex androids, they could be made to feel authentic, too. But regardless, an android wouldn’t be able to be outside on their own, so that’s a moot point.
I shook my head as if the motion would help clear that line of thought. I wondered if she had gotten surgery to achieve those looks. She seemed kinda young for that, one would expect that more from older women fighting the effects of age, but with the wealthy suburban population in the areas around the campus anything was possible. My girlfriend herself came from a rich family that would happily spend pretty much anything daddy’s little girl asked for. In fact, that up-bringing did give Carole a bit of a spoiled streak sometimes, and it had caused friction in our relationship before. Very much a: “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission” kind of attitude.
Finally, my phone rang and I looked to find a new message.
Sorry, babe, something came up, and I can’t hang out today.
Was that it? All that only to fizzle before the starting line? I was seething. I had canceled on the guys when I had been looking forward to hanging out with them because she had promised something better, but now? I couldn’t go back to Ian and Steve like, ‘sorry guys my other thing canceled so I’m un-canceling now!’ My pride wouldn’t allow it, not to mention if Jordan was there, he’d flay me on the spot.
Angrily, I raised my hand, ready to spike the rest of my milkshake on the ground in frustration, when someone caught my wrist. I looked up to see the tanned girl from before take a slurp from my straw.
“Now, now, don’t go wasting it and making a mess for poor Miss Bunny Tits to clean up. If you don’t want it, I’ll help you finish it off. I love this flavor.”
“Ah… sure…” I scrambled to my feet, and let her take the milkshake from me. She helped herself to a long drag and seemed to quite enjoy it enough to forget her phone in her other hand.
“Oh, my girlfriend has the same phone case…” I blurted out, after mere moments felt like too much silence.
The girl gave a start. Realizing she was still holding her phone, she stuffed it into her garish heart shaped purse. “Oh? You have a girlfriend already? A shame. My fuck buddy just canceled on me out of the blue and even with the ogling, you seem like my type.”
I gaped. “I… uh…wait wha- no, hang on. I meant ‘ex.’ My ex-girlfriend did. We broke up recently, so I still sometimes just say ‘girlfriend’ out of habit.”
Her eyes narrowed and she smiled around the straw. “I see… so does that mean, you’re… interested? I’m Sarah, by the way.”
I licked my lips. I had jumped the gun when I heard I had a chance, but what about Carole? I glanced around furtively and made sure no one was around who knew me.
No, Carole was the one who stood me up and put me in this position in the first place. Not to mention, she wouldn’t be around so she didn’t have to know.
“Ross. I’m Ross. And yeah, I’m in. In fact. I know just the place.”
______________________________
I felt a little guilty. Just a bit. Not enough to stop Sarah from giving me the best blowjob I had ever felt. As expected of a pro. At least, I assumed she was based on what she had said. I leaned back against the back of a building, the overhangs casting the back alley in early evening shade. The tanned girl varied her rhythm as she swallowed and sucked my dick; her tongue technique and pressure were incredible. Carole had given me head before, but she wasn’t as good at it. Just as I was thinking it though, Sarah pulled back, letting my manhood slip from her lips but rose to catch it on her bosom.
“This is quite the spicy spot. Someone could come around that corner at any moment, huh? Nothing would stop them. Not that anyone would go out back behind a convenience store. Unless…” She murmured in a sultry tone. “You have daring taste. I like that. And this.” She took hold of her breasts and pulled them apart, allowing my dick to submerge within their hot, soft embrace. “This is quite the specimen, as well.” I wasn’t small, but she giggled as her boobs nearly engulfed my shaft entirely. Only when she shifted her diaphragm low did the tip of my penis poke out from her cleavage.
Already close from the blowjob, feeling her huge tits slide along my length quickly pushed me to the brink.
“Ah…” I breathed, “I’m cumming!”
Sarah lowered herself so that my head breached her sea of softness, allowing her to swiftly bring her lips over it just as I burst. I could feel her gently sucking, drawing more and more of my semen out. I couldn’t believe how long it felt like my orgasm lasted, but when it finally subsided, Sarah let me go, licking her lips with a mischievous look.
“Not bad,” she grinned. “Hope you’re not done already, though!” She rose and ran hands down her body, starting with her breasts, and drawing my eye down along her curves to her waist. She knew exactly what her figure could do to a man. When her hands reached her hips, she hooked her thumbs into the low hanging short shorts and pulled them down along with her panties as she traced her hips, stopping when she could simply let go of the garments and let them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of them and turned, showing her backside. She had an almost comically small pair of angel wings tattooed over her shoulder blades, and down the middle of her back was another tattoo of a zipper that ran from the nape of her neck down along her spine to her tailbone.
I swallowed hard, feeling my junk fighting its refractory period to get hard again in a hurry.
Sarah braced herself against the far wall and stuck out her rear, reaching back with one hand to spread one cheek and show off her sopping, eager pussy.
“My other mouth’s thirsty, too, Ross. Hurry.”
Encouraged by the shameless display, I stepped up, finally feeling myself grow harder again, just in time to line myself up with her waiting folds.
“Mhm… mahhh…” She groaned softly, squirming a bit as I inserted myself, until I had sheathed myself entirely up to the base in her hot, moist grip. I marveled at how amazing it felt inside of her, her insides seeming to convulse around my girth, so much so that I almost forgot to start moving my hips. It felt a shame to pull out, but the pleasing friction of pulling against her flesh and, when I was almost out, the anticipation of driving back in made up for it. Soon, I found myself bucking against her; hands gripping her hips like handles, my thighs slapped against her butt as I strove to push myself deeper each time.
Having just came, I lasted a bit longer like that than earlier, but even so, our time copulating felt simultaneously like an eternity suspended in pleasure but also as brief as a blink. Pressure building in my sacs gave the barest warning before I blew my load, filling Sarah with almost as much as I had let out before, to my surprise.
I took in a deep breath, filling lungs with blessed air. Had I forgotten to breathe while overcome with such pleasure? I felt the usual post coitus fatigue set in, and though I really didn’t want to pull out, I feared I’d collapse on top of my impromptu partner if I let myself stay connected. Gingerly, I withdrew myself and retreated to give her space, stumbling a little and catching myself back against the far alleyway wall, while Sarah seemed content to remain how she was as she caught her own breath.
I saw a large dollop of white slime ooze from Sarah’s pussy, falling sloppily to the ground between her wide stance, followed by another. That had never happened before… or at least, Carole had never let me see it. Had I really cum that much? Given the length and intensity of my orgasms this time, perhaps it was possible. Why this time was so different, though, was a mystery. Because I was ch-cheating? Because Sarah was hotter than Carole? Carole was plenty attractive in her own right… My mind wandered a bit in the haze until my eyes refocused on the small puddle of jizz collecting between Sarah’s feet and finally had a terrifying realization.
“Ah shit… I went in raw without thinking about it,” I groaned.
Having recovered some, Sarah straightened up and stretched. She turned back around to face me with an unconcerned smile.
“Don’t worry. It’s alright. Maybe not your relationship status, but you don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant. After all, this isn’t a real pussy,” she explained nonchalantly. She adjusted her stance now that her slit seemed to have stopped leaking.
Wait, what? I blinked, hearing her words but not understanding.
“Ross?!”
My head snapped to look at the familiar voice whimpering from the alley’s corner. A pale, confused hand gripped her long red curls. Her eyes wide, her cherry pink lips hung open as she stared in shock.
My heart stopped. “C-C-Carole? It- it’s not what it looks like!” I stammered before my brain caught up. Though, really, what else could it be? My voice failed me as I felt my relationship and reputation crumble around me.
“See, what did I tell you, he’s a man like any other – weak to temptation,” Sarah told the blubbering redhead. That was… not what I had expected her to say.
“Wha… what’s going on?” I managed to ask hoarsely, looking between the two girls.
Carole drew closer, ambling unsteadily. Sarah swayed forth meeting her half way and Carole folded into the other woman’s arms, burying her face in Sarah’s tan bosom. Sarah looked back at me with a smug sneer.
“I met Carole a few weeks ago after you’d let her down. Who only gets themselves off during sex and then just leaves? Well turns out a girl can only fake her orgasms for so long before the sex starts becoming a loveless chore. Feeling uncertain about your relationship and sexually unsatisfied, she found me and spilled her guts. I swing both ways and it was so hard to just leave her alone after that. So we started dating in secret. Whenever you left her wanting, she’d visit me afterwards and I’d finish her off for you.”
I didn’t understand. All I could do was stare as Sarah once again widened her stance and reached between her legs. She inserted one finger into her cunt with a look of concentration, followed by another and another, her folds stretching unnaturally until her entire hand had disappeared inside her. When she pulled her hand out, she drew with it a thick black phallus. Erect and slick with clear juices, it must have been three or four inches larger than my dick even at my biggest, and girthier to boot. Carole let go of Sarah to kneel before her, mirroring the scene in that very alley from earlier, only instead of Sarah giving me head, it was Carole sucking off Sarah.
“Is… is that? That’s a dildo, right?” I asked. It looked too big to be real, not to mention the color stood out against Sarah’s light orange-brown tan…
“Is it?” Sarah responded tauntingly, “I wonder…” she laughed, resting a hand on Caroles head as she worked the shaft. Carole alternated between running her tongue along the massive member’s length and girth and attempting to deepthroat it. Sarah kept throwing me amused looks between guiding her tool deeper down Carole’s throat till the redhead was finally able to swallow the huge thing to the base. It would have been an incredible display if it weren’t so incredibly messed up.
Sarah’s face scrunched up finally and as Carole let the tanned girl’s huge dick out of her mouth, my head spun at the thick stream of ropy white goo that spewed from the tip, plastering Carole’s face. Sarah let out a pleasured sigh and glanced at me then at the puddle where I had fucked her just minutes earlier. The puddle was still there.
“Ha, did you perhaps think you had produced all that?”
I looked away, my cheeks flushing. This was as humiliating as it was confusing, and I had had about enough.
Angrily, I packed myself back into my pants and stood, but found the duo standing in my way. Carole had produced a towel from somewhere and cleaned herself up a bit, but there were still globs of white in her hair and on her clothes. For Sarah’s part, the tanned girl was still bottomless, with the thick black… no dark brown dick shaped thing poking out from her nethers, still hard as ever. I noticed a milky white bead remained on the tip as I eyed it.
I didn’t know what to think of the thing. I’d never heard of a… err… shemale? Transwoman? Futanari? whatever Sarah actually was: She clearly had a pussy – I had felt it myself. Yet, she was able to produce this extra appendage… seemingly from within her womanhood, assuming my eyes hadn’t betrayed me earlier. Seeing it in action had shaken me, but I got my nerves under control and reconsidered things logically.
I knew that realistic dildos, even ones capable of ejaculating, existed. If modern technology could give androids realistic human exterior skins, then the same technology could make such dildos equally indistinguishable from the real deal. The only mystery was how Sarah had hidden it. Maybe it was collapsable? To an extreme degree? Wait, what did Sarah mean about her pussy not being real? Could that… Aah! Forget it, this wasn’t worth thinking about.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sarah grabbed my arm as I turned to try to leave out the other side of the alley. “We’re not finished with you yet.”
I felt my anger flare again. I’d tried to be civil and accept my failure as a boyfriend by getting out of the way. “What?” I asked flatly. “You’re not done humiliating me? I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, let Sarah seduce me? Why am I the villain for that when she was the one who came on to me? I shouldn’t have succumb, but she shouldn’t be blameless for inviting me!” I spat, my voice rising with each word.
Carole looked around nervously, and Sarah put a finger to her lips to shush me. “Hang on, hang on, we’re the ones who should be apologizing. We took things too far, sorry Ross.”
That… disarmed me.
“Wh-what now?”
The girls shared guilty grins with each other before Sarah turned, showing me her back once more. Before my eyes, I watched as Carole dug her fingers into what I thought was a zipper tattoo at Sarah’s neck and drew the chuck down the woman’s back. With Carole’s continued help, Sarah’s tanned back stretched, revealing a different pale back just underneath her skin. That’s what it was, as I watched – just a skin, that, once it had peeled and stretched far enough, a familiar bundle of red locks breached from the opening.
I once again stared (I’d done that a lot this afternoon, it seemed), as I was faced with two Caroles. The one that had been inside the Sarah skin…suit? offered an apologetic smile.
“The plan had been just to tease you a little before we reveal these, but as I said, we got carried away and ended up taking the teasing too far.”
The Carole who had appeared to catch us earlier reached behind her neck and I had to watch in horror as my girlfriend’s lovely features deformed and her head deflated as she removed her own skinsuit, revealing a vaguely familiar freckled girl with short blonde hair. No, I did recognize her. She was Carole’s friend. The one I saw talking to her after the exam earlier.
“Sorry,” Amy conceded guiltily. “We did go too far, but there’s a good reason for… well the original plan.”
I raised an eyebrow, still unsure of how to feel.
“Well, the truth is,” the real Carole started, “I have been a little unsatisfied with our sex life. Don’t get me wrong, finding these semi-public places is great, but it’s not really my kink. This is my kink.” She lifted the husk of Sarah’s upper half that still hung flaccidly from her waist. I was aware in my mind that the black phallic thing was probably still there hidden behind the skin. “I know it’s weird and you’re probably traumatized by it now after what we did, but I wanted you to experience it first hand before you could judge it. You’d shared your interest in public sex with me, and you know, we can combine the two. They’re not mutually exclusive. But… um.. well, I’ll tell you more if you’re interested, but I just want to first ask for your forgiveness. I really don’t want to break up with you, and I’m sorry for even falsely giving that impression.” She bowed her head nervously. Amy did the same next to her.
I was hurt for sure, but I also found I couldn’t reject her earnest apology. I sighed deeply.
“Alright. I forgive you. But you definitely do have a lot of explaining to do.”
Both girls looked up, meeting my eyes with relief and excitement.
“Let’s go back to my place. We’ve been out here for a while and made quite a mess already, so we can relax and talk more freely in some real privacy,” Carole suggested, and Amy nodded emphatically before both girls began putting their suits the rest of the way back on. Walking around half suited was, understandably not an option.
It was as surreal watching Carole pull Sarah’s skin back over herself as it had been seeing her shed it. Sarah had a different body shape from Carole – Sarah was generally bigger all around, while still maintaining feminine proportions, so it almost seemed like Carole grew inside the suit to match the new form. Without any empty skinsuit to obscure it, it quickly became impossible to ignore the elephant in the alley, and once Sarah’s gray eyes fluttered open she offered me a grin, keenly aware of what I was thinking.
“As you guessed earlier, this is a dildo. A fancy one, too, as you saw. As for how I do this,” she prefaced before taking hold of the incongruous appendage and slowly pushing it back inside herself. Amazingly “Sarah’s” pussy swallowed the huge thing whole leaving nothing but her feminine lips to be covered by her string thong and short shorts. “That’s one of the interesting and convenient side effects of these skinsuits’ spatial shapers.”
“Spatial shapers? Like that packing technology? The one that lets you stuff a whole closet of clothes in one suitcase?”
“The very same!” Amy picked up the explanation as she adjusted Carole’s face. It was bizarre seeing wrinkles in my girlfriend’s very face, only for her to smooth them out and be left with a perfectly normal and natural looking face the next moment. Also that she wasn’t actually my girlfriend. “Spatial shaping tech manipulates space – it can make something too big fit into a smaller area, and conversely, it can allow something too small to fill out a larger volume. In this case, skinsuits were adapted from skins for androids. Even those were being developed with spatial shaping inside to allow androids to pack more technology and features before letting the skin hide the extra bulk. For our skinsuits, the spatial shaping tech was refind by private endeavors to make sure it’s safe for people to wear. The result is as you see – what amounts to a perfect disguise anyone can wear.”
“Pretty amazing, huh?” “Sarah” took over the spontaneous seminar, apparently unable to help herself, despite saying they’d wait till they got back to the apartment. “This kink’s been around for a while, but as Amy said, only recently has modern technology given us ways to actually realize it properly in real life. Aside from fetishists like us, there’s some real case uses for skinsuits in film and medicine. Oh, as a fetish, it’s called ‘Skinsuit’ or ‘Kawamono’ in Japanese. It has historically been portrayed in media as disguises for spy movies or mystery cartoons. Some popular horror/slasher media also technically falls under the umbrella but while some fiction in the kink can undeniably get that gory and twisted, most of the fetish usually focuses less on the body horror and more on personal exploration and experimentation or with the social changes that come with the ability to become someone not yourself. It’s adjacent to Transformation and Possession but still it’s its own thing most of the time.” I wasn’t really following most of it, but it was cute and a little amusing hearing her enthusiastically prattle on like an innocent introvert finally allowed to spill about their current hyperfixation, all while redressing Sarah in her slutty get up.
“Some elitists from other fetishes have condescendingly called skinsuiting ‘transformation with extra steps,’ or similarly, ‘possession with extra steps,’ since it can go towards either if the story choses to create a skinsuit from magic or technology or if there’s a victim that becomes a suit to be worn. For a lot of us though, those extra steps themselves actually add a bit of believability. Rather than, ‘I can just magically turn into someone else,’ it feels more feasible to find a mysterious suit that can transform me into someone else, right? It’s a lower bar to achieve. Even if the suit is also magic in the end, making the origins of the suit more realistic or ambiguous removes some of the burden on suspension of disbelief, at least that’s how it was in skinsuit fiction of the past. Now that we actually have real skinsuits, we don’t have to exist solely in fantasy anymore. Ahh I’m so glad I was born into this era!” Amy, or rather ‘Carole’ added. I was going to have to figure out how to think of them and fast. Might be best to think of her as… an Amy variant of Carole, perhaps? “A!Carole”? I’d have to ask them how they do it.
“So I suppose you obviously share this kink,” I observed, directing the statement at A!Carole.
“Guilty,” my girlfriend’s impersonator admitted. “Imagine my surprise when I found out we were both into this. It is not and probably never will be a common fetish, but our numbers have grown over the years.” That sounded like a story in of itself. For another time perhaps though.
“About that, Ross,” Sarah piped up. “There was another thing I was wondering about, Ross. When I was Sarah earlier, I mentioned that I swing both ways. That’s… actually true. I was wondering if you’d be okay with Amy sometimes joining us. You don’t have to commit to dating her and she won’t take me away from you. In fact it’s probably best if you pretend like your just distant acquaintances still while in public. But in private, I thought it might be fun if she could join us as a fuck buddy. We can sort out the specifics later.”
I blinked. “Um…” I shot A!Carole a look and she blushed (the suits can do that, even?) and nodded in confirmation.
“If you don’t mind.”
I scratched one cheek sheepishly. “Well, I can’t say I mind. I was er.. baited by Sarah after all. What guy wouldn’t relish the opportunity to have fun with two lovely ladies?”
“Aww! You’re the best, Ross! Thanks for being so open minded!” Sarah squealed excitedly and pounced, taking one of my arms and hugging it. A!Carole took the other, doing the same. I felt extremely self conscious waltzing out of the back alley behind the convenience store with A!Carole on one arm and Sarah on the other, especially with the latter dressed as she was.
With the enticing prospect of imminent and future threesomes, I allowed myself to be hauled back to the girls’ apartment.
______________________________
The girls began stripping the moment they were safe behind closed doors. I supposed they had an extra layer to get through if they were going to remove their skinsuits, too. The show was a feast for the eyes regardless, even with the weirdness that came from my being unaccustomed yet to skinsuits. Now that I was in a bit more of a stable emotional state, it was almost humorous seeing Sarah’s bare tits once more deflated like balloons and peel away to allow Carole’s own smaller, but still perky and sizeable mounds to breathe.
Amy stripped from her Carole skinsuit, revealing an attractive body in her own right. She was only a bit smaller in the bust department than Carole, but that was probably because she was thinner on all fronts.
While Carole was used to being naked in front of me, Amy was expectedly a bit more bashful. And to be honest, getting naked myself, I felt a little more guarded than usual, too. But I pushed that feeling away; it served no purpose here.
“You’re beautiful in your own way,” I tried to reassure her with a warm smile. She smiled nervously back.
“It’s pretty different being yourself than being in a skin. I didn’t have any trouble doing fellato for ‘Sarah’ as Carole, but now that I’m, er.. myself… well don’t worry about me. I’ll get used to it,” she told me.
I noticed too late to warn her and Carole snuck up behind her roommate and slid her arms under Amy’s, grabbing handfuls of the other girl’s breasts.
“Amy’s cute as a doll,” Carole snickered from behind her friend. “Hey, Ross, did you know that cup size is a relative measurement? It’s not just the size of her bust, but the size of her bust compared against the size of her frame. So even though Amy’s smaller than me, she’s still a D cup like me, just with a different band size.”
I felt my smile twitch. What exactly was I supposed to do with that information? “Is that so?”
“Indeed. Why don’t you come appreciate Amy’s Ds like you love mine.”
“C-Carole!?” Amy squawked.
“Uh… But I’m not sure Amy feels quite ready for that,” I rebutted as politely as I could. As exciting as it was to have a third, I still wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone I wasn’t as used to being intimate with. Especially since she seemed shy herself.
“This is the best way to get over that awkwardness though,” Carole insisted. “For both of you.”
“No, she’s right,” Amy admitted and stopped struggling, allowing Carole to present her assets for my… appreciation. Well, if she said it was okay, I wasn’t going to object.
“Mnghnn…” Amy winced and moaned softly as I gently cupped her breasts. As Carole had mentioned, they weren’t as big as hers, but they were still quite full and soft. Much like Carole’s they were pleasant to knead, but there was some discernible difference, even if I wasn’t quite observant enough to be able to tell specifically what. It made sense though – all women were different in their own ways.
The mood heated up as Amy and I grew aroused. As I played with her tits, I noticed Carole’s hands slide down to tease Amy’s nethers, and Amy herself moved her hands down to stroke my stiffening member. As things often did when we got in a sexual flow, we moved on instinct, finding each other in sync even without words. Amy shifted down to begin sucking me off. Carole took her place in my embrace and we kissed. Carole switched places with Amy again, letting me kiss the thinner blonde, appreciating how her cute freckles also flecked her shoulders and dotted her chest. I was getting close so I stopped Carole and moved the girls to the bed where I laid them down and ate them each out in turn. They clasped hands as they moaned. Finally it came time to take the next step.
The girls inserted their contraceptive inserts. Small bullet shaped inserts that, in my admittedly limited knowledge on the topic, functioned like suppositories – melting from body heat and coating their insides with a thin, potent, but safe spermicide. Amy climbed back on the bed, but Carole stood up and made for her walk-in closet.
“Amy can go first, I’ll be right back,” Carole suggested before disappearing into her closet’s depths.
“If she says so, huh?” I joked lightly with Amy, who giggled back.
“Carole’s er… broken me in already, but you’ll be the first guy I’ve been with,” she murmured.
“Oh, lucky me,” I grinned before we kissed once more.
She laid down on her back. Missionary was a good place to start. I lined up my cock with her waiting slit and slowly pushed my way in. Knowing how kinky Carole could get, I could picture her fucking Amy with that black dildo from before and I had a moment’s fear that my size couldn’t match up to what sexual technology could offer. But fortunately Amy’s folds convulsed tightly around me, and she moaned softly, seeming to be feeling me plenty. My hips rocked, not for the first time that day, and it probably would not be the last either. Close as the girls had gotten me, I felt myself on the edge of orgasm pretty soon, but the taunts from earlier echoed in my ears. I held myself back as long as I could last before I couldn’t keep myself contained any longer and my semen burst forth.
“Ah! I’m cumming!” I breathed. “S-sorry, was that too soon?” Having shot twice already earlier I didn’t have much to give and my orgasm was comparably short, but I still found it reasonably satisfying. “How was it?” I asked nervously as I pulled out.
Amy reached up and pulled me onto the sheets next to her where she rested her forehead against mine, her face still flushed.
“Don’t worry, you were great. Thank you,” she whispered. I felt relieved.
“Don’t go falling asleep just yet, Babe. The night’s just beginning,” Carole’s voice pierced my growing fatigue. Rising I glanced over to see her holding a long orange-brown garment in one hand, her other behind her back. No, not a garment. A skinsuit. “But we will give your penis a well deserved break for now.”
“Wait, you want me to wear that?” I asked, incredulously.
“I said anyone could wear these, didn’t I?” Carole asserted smugly. “That means anyone.”
I frowned. “I… wait didn’t Amy say that?” Inspecting the skinsuit, I could tell from the extra baggy flesh around the chest and lack of anything between the thighs that it was a female skinsuit. The long blonde hair and tanned skin tone clicked. It was not just any female skinsuit. The image of Sarah’s voluptuous curves entered my mind, and to my surprise, imagining myself wearing that form aroused me considerably.
Well, since I was getting a threesome out of it, I supposed it was only fair I played along. At worst, I could handle some laughs at my expense. And at best…
“Alright, what the fuck, let’s give it a try.”
Carole and Amy directed me to the edge of the bed and led me through the process of putting the skinsuit on. The opening in the back was the starting point. They guided my legs in first; it was like putting on a wetsuit, yet somehow the material slid over my skin more easily than I expected. Pulling the skin taut from the upper thighs, I wiggled my toes and watched as Sarah’s painted purple toe nails waggled back at me. In my mind, it felt off – like my legs and feet should have been bigger than they looked and felt, and the dissonance was a bit trippy. Despite that, the sensation of compression against my skin was not an unpleasant one.
“Ah!” I gasped as Amy put one finger on my covered thigh, running it down my leg before tickling the bottom of my foot. “Ah! Hey! I… I can feel that.” I could feel the skinsuit against my skin, yet at the same time, I felt Amy’s touch as if the skinsuit’s surface was my own skin.
“Another trick of the spatial manipulation in conjunction with some other technology I don’t understand myself – sensations are transferred through directly. As if it’s your own skin. Wait till you feel her boobs,” Amy chuckled as she explained.
“Before that though, we need to take care of your junk,” Carole interjected.
“Huh.. so do I need to tuck or som- ack!” I asked but my girlfriend cut me off, casually reaching into the skin and grabbing my equipment. She guided it into a pocket in the interior surface of the skinsuit.
“That’s what this is there for. It’s where I stored my dildo before. It connects to an extra space that then links to the suit’s vagina but doesn’t intrude unless you tell it to, so when you know how to, you can project your manhood out through the pussy,” Carole informed me.
“And how do I do that?”
“With that taken care of, let’s keep going. Once you’re used to it, you can get in and out of suits pretty quickly. I’d already be done if I were putting Sarah back on myself!” Carole evaded the question with a smile. I could guess what that meant. She had said my cock would be taking a break.
The girls had me pull the suit up over my hips and waist and held it for me as I inserted my hands into the opening in the back, finding the arm holes and sliding into those. Following the girls’ instructions, I pulled the torso up over my shoulders and slid all the way into the arms in one motion. To my initial disappointment, Sarah’s funbags remained deflated against my chest as I fixed my fingers that had missed their respective digits, a process that was interrupted when Amy zipped up the seam along my back up part way. Apparently it was far enough to trigger something in the suit though, because Sarah’s breasts suddenly came to life, actually flinging my arms out. Carole was in their path and got smacked.
“Oh my God!” Carole snorted laughing. “They puffed up like airbags and.. pft hahaha!”
“Was it that funny getting hit? Since when do you snort when you laugh?” I forced a laugh of my own, trying to keep up the playful teasing atmosphere, though I was too excited and anxious to feel as amused myself. At least she didn’t seem hurt.
“I’m fine. Are you okay? A little warning next time, Amy!” Carole answered, fighting down her giggles.
“S-sorry!” Amy squeaked from behind me. “I didn’t realize it would do that. I thought it had to be all the way on before changes applied. At least, when putting on fully for the first time.”
“Depends on the suit and maker, I think,” Carole surmised. “Alright, anyway, all that’s left is the head. Ready, Ross?”
“Uh… as ready as I’ll be,” I nodded, resisting the urge to play with the new weights on my chest. They were heavy, and really pulled on my shoulders and back. No wonder some women had back issues, and they didn’t have the convenience of being able to take them off like I would.
The girls showed me that the zipper hole stretched far more than I expected it’d be able. I held my breath on instinct as if diving underwater, and they pulled the reverse hood up over my head. Everything went dark and I felt a pressure over my entire head and face.
“Easiest thing is to find the nose and lip slots and everything else should align itself from there,” I heard Amy instruct me. I plucked at the fabric covering my face, remembering watching the girls do it behind the store earlier. It shifted on my face until I felt my nose slot in. My lips found their spots as well and as promised I could suddenly tell what parts needed a little tug here or there. Before long, I opened my new eyes.
Without the husk of Sarah’s head blocking my view, I had an unimpeded view of Sarah’s beautiful tits filling the bottom of my vision. My hands found the soft, warm mounds without thought, and I felt an electric shock run through my body when my fingers found my new nipples.
“Ah!” a sultry moan escaped my mouth several octaves higher than my voice should have been. “M-my voice has changed, too!?” I remarked, both in surprise and testing my voice. Now that I thought back on it, Sarah sounded distinct from Carole, so it did seem consistent that suits also changed the wearer’s voice accordingly. “How?” I looked at Carole, but she just shrugged.
“Dunno. Another thing I know suits can do, but I’m not an expert on how they work. Probably also different depending on the suit and maker. Either way, that’s over my head. I just know that these ones do. Besides, it’s more important what you do with them, isn’t it?”
“R-right…” I felt at my throat and also noticed the lack of an Adam’s apple. It reminded me of one other key spot that would be different from what I was used to as a man.
Carole caught my wrist before I could get between my legs though.
“Nu-uh. Not yet. We’ll give you plenty of experience with your new found femininity soon enough, so just be patient. The night’s still young,” she told me commandingly. I had a feeling I’d be hearing that phrase a lot tonight, even when it stopped being true.
I wasn’t used to her being so dominant, and maybe it was my new, unfamiliar body, but I found her taking the lead weirdly comforting.
“Over here.”
I hadn’t noticed Amy step away but she returned from Carole’s walk-in closet with a sly smirk. I was beginning to understand that Amy was more comfortable around women; her previous shyness seemed to have dissipated once I had sheathed myself in the other girl’s form. Instead, the blonde strut forward, boldly letting a large light purple strap-on dildo sway affixed to her crotch by a black leather harness strapped around her hips.
Given the direction of the last few minutes and the knowledge that Carole had one, I wasn’t surprised to see a second dildo rear itself now that I sported a pussy of my own. I wasn’t surprised, but I was intimidated as fuck. The purple one eyed monster looked even bigger on Amy’s slender frame, making it seem almost grotesque. She climbed onto the bed and stood in the center. I turned, mesmerized, following the wobbling tool and found it hovering in my face.
“Hope you were paying attention when we were sucking you off earlier. Cause now it’s your turn,” Amy declared, folding her arms under her bosom.
Up close, my fears multiplied. There was no way the huge thing would fit. Like Carole’s toy, It was bigger than my cock by several inches and girthier, to match. As I felt her press the thing against my lips, I noticed it was even warm, and seemed to twitch in response to contact. For all the things technology had advanced, of course it would be sexcraft on the cutting edge.
“Come on, suck on it. It’s only fair after we swallowed yours, right?” Amy prodded. She pushed against my lips a bit more with her tip. My transformation really seemed to have unleashed a different side of the freckled blonde. Was this what it was called being a ‘switch?’
Unsure of what other option I had, I parted my lips and let her enter. My jaw felt wrenched wide as she forayed into my mouth, and when she found the back of my throat, there was still a good quarter of her toy still outside my mouth.
I felt hands on my head, preventing me from retreating.
“That’s no good, Sarah. You need to take it all the way to the base or your partner won’t be satisfied! Isn’t that what we’re practicing for?” Carole’s voice whispered in my ear.
Amy smiled innocently and jerked her hips forward, invading my throat and making me gag. I shuddered, my eyes tearing, and my nose pressing up against the leather harness but Carole held me fast from behind. It felt like forever, but eventually Amy pulled back, withdrawing entirely from my mouth and allowing me to breathe again.
“Well that’s no good, but I suppose until you’re ready for proper deepthroat practice you can work on other fellatio techniques,” Carole’s voice was gentle but her admonishment stung. The redhead climbed onto the bed next to Amy. She had equipped her own strap-on, bringing the purple phallic toy reinforcements in the form of a dark brown cock. It wasn’t as big as Amy’s but it was just as thick and up close, I could see a fleshy texture and veins. It was indeed one of those top quality ones presumably using the same skinsuit technology that I was currently wearing to disguise an ejaculating dildo as a real cock.
I was right when I suspected that Carole’s toy would be the harder one to service. I had to suppress a gag reflex even before getting my lips around it. It even smelled and tasted authentic – a musk and hint of salty sweat respectively assaulted my senses as I opened my mouth to let it in. The hot, firm yet springy rod was an oppressive presence in my maw, yet Carole seemed to enjoy my performance, so I forced myself to focus on that. It must have had another side inserted into her womanhood that reacted to what I did to this end, because she would twitch or moan as I got more accustomed to and bolder in working her shaft.
“Hey, don’t forget me, too.” Amy asserted, pushing her purple toy in my face once more. I let go of Carole’s and swallowed down Amy’s. Despite the shaky start, we fell into a rhythm like before and even I was feeling aroused and comfortable by the end. My trance was shattered before long though.
“Ah… I’m… it’s cumming!”
“Me too!”
I felt the brown appendage in my mouth pulse just moments before hot, ropy ejaculate burst forth into my mouth, slamming down my throat before I could react. I choked on the bitter/salty slime and reeled back. To my side Amy’s dildo similarly began squirting thick dollops of imitation cum. Between the two of them, I was covered in seconds. I could keenly feel the hot milky spunk clinging and dripping from my skin.
As I was wiping the fake jizz from my eyes, I felt warm bodies settle in next to me. The girls cuddled each of my arms, unconcerned by the slime.
“Sorry, we got a little rough there,” Carole cooed in my ear. I felt her cup my heavy breasts, and I gasped as she gave them a pinch. Amy did the same on the other side almost in sync. “I’m a little excited I finally get to share this with you. I never thought it’d be possible. I was so afraid of sharing this fetish since a lot of people hear it and assume the worst. Thanks for giving it a chance. Now, lay down and relax. We’ll show you what it’s really like to feel like a woman.”
I did as I was told and Amy occupied my top half with some intense frenching while she played with my tits. Down below, I felt Carole spread my legs. I felt her breath upon my mound just moments before she began.
“Don’t worry, Sarah’s not a virgin, so you don’t have to worry about your first time hurting. Lucky you,” Amy whispered, taking a break from their making out.
I barely heard her as the first stroke of Carole’s tongue against my folds sent a shock of pleasure up my spine into the back of my head. I hadn’t even recovered from the first before she struck again. I struggled to maintain any self-awareness as I felt her suck and tease my pussy, alternating between slashing across my folds and clit with her tongue and shoving it into my depths. If this was what just a tongue felt like, I could hardly imagine how a full penis felt, much less the monster toys the girls sported. I knew that would be coming, yet I was helpless to prepare myself, brought to a blubbering, sweating mess just from Carole’s cunnilingus. When Carole rose, satisfied with the foreplay, I had already cum twice – at least, I assumed that was what I had felt. It was different from a man’s building pressure and powerful singular release. It wasn’t as intense in a single moment, but rather, wave after wave of ever escalating pleasure that, altogether synergized for a wild experience.
“Hang in there, Sarah, the best part hasn’t even begun yet,” Amy purred, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
I felt something nuzzle my folds once more. The mere touch made my breath catch. It was coming. Amy held my hands tightly as Carole put more pressure behind her hips. I could feel my quivering flower resist for just a moment, before giving way, parting to allow the ever insistent appendage entry into my depths. I groaned. The feeling of being entered, of the fleshy toy scraping against my walls accelerated the waves of pleasure.
“Halfway in…” Carole’s voice informed me. Only half way?
Color bloomed and my vision blurred and I felt my whole body curl. It was painful, like I was being split down the center. Yet it was also pleasurable, like… my whole pelvic area had become as hot and sensitive as a dick mid orgasm. That wasn’t quite right, but I wasn’t sure how else to describe it.
“Haaah, yeah… I shoved the rest all in at once. That’s what that was… hehe. Alright, I’m gonna start moving now, enjoy~” my girlfriend sighed, clearly enjoying herself as well.
It was like Carole’s oral before, but more intense, and accompanied by a new sense of fullness in my pelvis whenever she pushed her false dick in. I was helpless beneath her as she bore down on me, and I came so hard I feared my body would break, if not from the overwhelming stimulation, then from the huge toy driving into me.
I don’t know how long we went on, but I only recognized Carole’s orgasm by her lustful moans accompanied by a new hot sensation filling me below my stomach. I was delirious from the pleasure. My mind was a haze. I vaguely registered Carole and Amy switching places before the sensations assaulted me anew.
I don’t remember what happened after that – everything was a blur of feelings. Heat, pleasure, sticky moistness, sweat.
Eventually I passed out and the next morning I woke.
Something felt wrong. My head was fuzzy and my whole body was sore. As I sat up, I nearly fell over again because weight on my chest messed with my sense of balance.
Weight on my chest?
My eyes refocused and I realized that I had the biggest, fattest tits I’d ever seen mounted to my front.
“Whaa!” I yelped before I could stop myself. My bedfellows stirred as I cupped my bulbous mammaries and tried to process the organs and my high pitched, girly voice at the same time.
“Mhm? Sarah? What’s wrong?” Carole muttered, leaning into me and even casually resting her chin on one of my breasts like a pillow. “Nightmare?”
“I’m… what? I’m a girl?” My mind couldn’t process this first in the morning.
“What’s the matter?” Amy on my other side groped my other breast making me gasp again. “Of course you’re a girl. Would a guy have these beautiful melons?”
“I… no, but…” I studdered. “But I’m not a girl… My name is…"
“Sarah,” Amy filled in for me, but I shook my head. That wasn’t right.
“No, I’m… Ross. I’m a guy… but…”
“Alright, that’s enough teasing,” Carole reprimanded Amy. The blonde stuck out her tongue playfully but rolled back under the sheets where it was warm. Carole picked herself up and faced me properly. “You’re right. You are Ross. Do you remember what we did last night? First behind the convenience store, and again once you got back here to our place?”
Slowly the shock of waking up with boobs faded and the adrenaline made room for my memories to return.
“This is… a skinsuit?” I testingly pinched my cheek. It hurt, scarily, but I was able to find the superficial layer and it stretched far more easily than a cheek should.
“That’s right. We were… experimenting last night. We got a bit rough, probably more than we should have for your first time as a girl. But did you enjoy it at least?” Carole asked repentantly.
Thinking back I remember surprise, and a bit of shame, but also a lot of pleasure, intense sensations that lasted a lot longer than I was used to orgasms lasting. I nodded cautiously, but upon seeing Carole’s radiant relieved smile, I felt myself relax.
“Good… good. Do you think you’d be… open to trying more like this sometime?”
It was a little scary, but at the same time, it was hard to imagine never getting to experience that again now that I had had a taste for it. My pride as a man protested, but I suppressed it. Carole had shared this side of her with me. The least I could do is respect her courage. And it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy it in the end.
“Y… yeah. I’d want- I’d be up for that.”
Carole grinned. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear. Thank you, Ross! I love you!”
That smile.
That damn smile.
______________________________
Wearing a light red, sheer nightgown, Carole smiled at her boyfriend’s back until he disappeared from view, shielding her eyes from the morning sun. Once he was all cleaned up, stripped from Sarah’s husk, and headed back to his place, she retreated back within the shade of her apartment and closed and locked the door behind her. In the entryway, she glanced up at her security camera, studying the lens as it automatically focused on her.
“Did you enjoy the show? If you liked the warm and fuzzies, stop here. If you have a taste for darkness though, come with me. The password will be...” she paused to consider.
"1MoreLayer"
The camera feed flickered and froze and a link appeared in the center of the image:
https://subcutaneouslover.wordpress.com/vulnerability-revealed
“Alright, time. Everyone, pencils down. I don’t want to see anyone writing any further.”
I had finished scrawling down my last answer not seconds before the proctor announced time. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief now that the exam was over, but, as I prepared to hand my papers forward, I noticed at the last second that I had forgotten to write my name and the date at the top. My heart jumped as I crouched forward, hoping Jordan’s board shoulders in the seat ahead of me would hide my pencil strokes as I hastily jotted down the missing identification information.
“Proctor called time, Ross. Hand it up,” Jordan turned in his seat and reached for my test smugly, but I had already finished by then.
“Nice try, asshole, it was just my name that I almost forgot,” I sneered back, letting Jordan take the papers from my desk and passed them forward along with his own. The disagreeable guy scowled, realizing he hadn’t caught me as off guard as he’d hoped.
I maintained my air of indifference until he had turned away before allowing myself a cringe.
“Realize you made a mistake already?” My friend Ian chuckled as he wandered over to chat now that the test was over. The dark brown skinned young man leaned casually against my desk, his cargo pants bulging as usual with who knew what odds and ends he loved stuffing in the pockets of the retro threads.
I shook my head and grabbed my bag, turning away so that Jordan wouldn’t overhear; Ian followed the short way from my desk to the back of the classroom. “Nah, just wrote 2102 instead of 2103 for the year.”
Ian laughed, snorting slightly. “I’ve done that before. We’re only a month into the new year, so it happens. Luckily most things auto-fill or timestamp these days. Sucks that this course is required for us – it’s one of the few with a professor that still insists on using physical media exams. Oh, here, I grabbed your phone for you while I was up getting mine.”
“Thanks,” I sighed, accepting my phone with one hand and wagging my mechanical pencil at my friend with the other. “Seriously, they make us go out and buy a friggin antique just for this class.”
“If it were all digital like the other classes, everyone would just look up all the answers online, like in other classes,” Jordan asserted, inviting himself into our conversation. He and Ian bumped fists, but he knew better by now than to try offering the same gesture to me. “Why else do we have to surrender our phones before we start?” They were friends, God knows why; bless Ian for being able to get along with anyone.
“I dunno. If the questions are so straightforward that an Internet connection was all that was required to cheat, then maybe it’s not the technology that’s the problem. Despite what you’re implying most other digital classes don’t have an issue with cheating just because we can be online at the same time.” I shot back, unlocking my phone to see a waiting message. It was from my girlfriend, Carole.
I glanced up across the room, spotting Carole herself with her friends. The adorable redhead noticed my look and hid a mischievous smile behind her own phone’s hot pink case. Her blouse today was a creamy off white with a light pink floral pattern and puffy, frilly short sleeves. I caught a glimpse of her knees squirming a little, black dyed denim capris that fit tight to her thin figure. One of her friends, a cute short haired blonde with freckles named Amy if I recalled, said something that drew her attention and she answered them, her cherry glazed lips reappearing in my view as she lowered her phone, but the girls were too far away for me to overhear. I was, however, close enough to hear Jordan still running his mouth.
“Technology has advanced disproportionately in the last hundred years because of industrial lobbying power.” Jordan grumbled. “We have autonomous android servants dressed in advanced skins that make them virtually indistinguishable from normal people, yet science has yet to figure out teleportation and lobbyists have us still using cars with tires because, heaven forbid an antiquated industry like tire production go out of business. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the true disappointment is that modern society has been dealing with the same social issues from hundreds of years ago, like transphobia and homophobia, and those two in particular have somehow gotten worse than they were a hundred years ago!”
“Hate to remind you, but homophobia and transphobia have basically been around for all of recorded history. If we haven’t stamped them out yet, chances are, we won’t ever,” I responded tiredly. It was becoming a stock response when Jordan inevitably steered conversation to these topics.
On principal, “Love-rights” was, blessedly, something Jordan and I agreed on: everyone should just mind their damn business and let other people love who they want. Assuming their partner loves them back, of course. But the way Jordan always managed to bend every conversation to these topics had quickly become tiring. I suspected Ian felt similarly. The otherwise unflappable and chill guy frequently seemed eager to change the subject when Jordan brought it up.
“Oookay. You know, this is a fascinating debate I’ve heard twenty times now, but don’t you suppose we could move on from the classroom?” Ian interjected, sensing things getting heated. I sighed and nodded as we filed out of the classroom.
“Just because it’s always been a problem doesn’t mean we should get complacent and stop fighting it!” Jordan made his usual closing remark on the topic
“Alright,” Ian clapped his hands, drawing our attention. “Regardless of exams or human rights, it’s Ross’s turn to pick a place for dinner tonight. You wanted to go to Arnold’s Diner, right?”
“Wow, that was a transition. Actually, though, sorry guys, something came up. You and Steve can go get dinner without me,” I announced carefully.
Ian blinked. “Hm? Sure, alright, I suppose. I thought you were finally looking forward to getting to pick Arnie’s Diner, but sometimes it do be that way, right? I’ll call Steve and see if he still wants to go there or somewhere else.”
“You guys were getting dinner together?” Jordan piped up, following Ian as the latter dialed up our mutual friend. “I know a place that just opened up…”
With my friends on their way out, I hefted my bag over my shoulder and glanced across the room once again. Carole and her friends had already left. I smiled to myself. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.
______________________________
Despite what I thought. I was the one who ended up waiting. As per Carole’s instructions, I was to meet her outside the convenience store we frequented on our walk to and from campus. Even though she left the classroom before I had, I seemed to have beaten her there. But perhaps I had my own eagerness to blame.
Lately, Carole and I had found a new spark in our love life. When I found out last week that Carole had a good eye for security cameras and their range of view, I jumped at the chance to propose the salacious challenge of finding somewhere outside that we could make out that wouldn’t have a digital audience. Imagine my excitement at the chance to introduce her to my public sex fetish! In the modern age, it was quite a challenge, but we had found a few spots since, and had both taken quite a shine to getting dirty and even doing the deed in those blind spots where we thought we could get away with it.
When Carole asked to meet here, by this convenience store, I instantly knew what she was implying. The most recent blind spot she had found was in the alley that went behind the store building, and we hadn’t made plans yet because of the exam today. With the test finished, a little public-not-public romp sounded like a fantastic way to blow off steam.
Still, I wasn’t going to have much fun by my lonesome so until Carole arrived, I seemed to have some time to kill. My stomach growled so I turned, and sauntered into the store to look for a snack. On the way in, I was greeted by a girl in a skimpy bunny suit.
“Welcome! Hop you find everything you’re looking for, and if you need assistance, don’t hesitate to ask!”
Anyone with rudimentary understanding of footwear would balk at an employee willing to spend all day standing in heels much less dress so lasciviously in public. Fortunately, the bunny suit wearing girl felt neither pain in her feet nor shame over how much skin her outfit revealed. She was a customer service android dolled up in the latest big breasted skin. I mostly knew because the store had been required to post clear signage that they were buying and employing her in advance of her debut, but aside from that the only other give away was her lack of shame and her inhuman stamina. And the heels.
I also happened to know that that model and outfit were designed for casinos, but the proprietor, a dirty old man I knew by “Randall” had done well enough for himself even on his lonesome in this location surrounded by affluent neighborhoods that he’d apparently saved up enough to buy the robotic help. Randall was fairly unsociable himself, so the chipper young woman-looking android picked up a lot of slack and may have even paid for herself already. Given his eternal bachelor status, I’d be willing to bet Randall had also paid for the ability to bring his bunny girl to bed with him. Not that I could blame him; she was designed to be hot.
As usual, old man Randall himself was behind the counter and he gave me a disinterested nod before returning to whatever he was reading on his tablet, leaving me to browse the shelves. In the back, I happened upon a real treat, but not the kind of snack I was looking for.
“Hm? What’cha looking at?”
A college aged girl (though no one I had ever seen on campus to my knowledge) was staring down the coffee cans when she noticed that I couldn’t help but stare. When she turned to face me, she only gave me more to see. A low cut yellow halter top barely contained her huge tanned rack – just one might have been nearly as big as my head! Despite the knockers, her waist cut in pleasingly before her bodyline flared out again at her hips before flowing down long, shapely legs. I barely noticed her booty shorts on my first pass, there was so little to them, she almost might as well have been wearing a denim thong. The last thing I noticed was that she had long, strawberry blonde hair tied up in a side tail that ended with a little curl and soft gray eyes with long eyelashes.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat and, by sheer force of will, forced myself to turn away. “Sorry,” I mumbled, hoping not to make a scene, since I was definitely hard just from looking. With what I was hoping to do with my girlfriend soon, the last thing I needed was to make trouble and draw attention to myself.
The girl sniffed dismissively and but thankfully left me alone, swaying away to a different aisle. I pretended to examine the ice cream as I calmed myself down. Finally, I grabbed a milkshake and paid for it before walking out of the store and settling on the curb. As I slurped my sweet treat, I tried to think about other things, to mixed success.
I had only ever seen those kinds of proportions on sex androids. Between her outfit and her curves, she could even make Randall’s bunny girl blush! Well, probably not technically, but having seen both recently, the comparison was fresh in my mind. Somehow this strange girl had the market-ready sex appeal robot beat.
Could this girl actually have been a sex bot herself? No, that couldn’t be the case – As far as I could tell she had been alone and androids were required to remain in the supervision of their human owner when in public. It was one of those safeguard policies. Android skins were getting so good in recent years that they could be visibly indistinguishable from normal humans which naturally could be a problem if not for mandates like that. And I supposed with regard to sex androids, they could be made to feel authentic, too. But regardless, an android wouldn’t be able to be outside on their own, so that’s a moot point.
I shook my head as if the motion would help clear that line of thought. I wondered if she had gotten surgery to achieve those looks. She seemed kinda young for that, one would expect that more from older women fighting the effects of age, but with the wealthy suburban population in the areas around the campus anything was possible. My girlfriend herself came from a rich family that would happily spend pretty much anything daddy’s little girl asked for. In fact, that up-bringing did give Carole a bit of a spoiled streak sometimes, and it had caused friction in our relationship before. Very much a: “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission” kind of attitude.
Finally, my phone rang and I looked to find a new message.
Sorry, babe, something came up, and I can’t hang out today.
Was that it? All that only to fizzle before the starting line? I was seething. I had canceled on the guys when I had been looking forward to hanging out with them because she had promised something better, but now? I couldn’t go back to Ian and Steve like, ‘sorry guys my other thing canceled so I’m un-canceling now!’ My pride wouldn’t allow it, not to mention if Jordan was there, he’d flay me on the spot.
Angrily, I raised my hand, ready to spike the rest of my milkshake on the ground in frustration, when someone caught my wrist. I looked up to see the tanned girl from before take a slurp from my straw.
“Now, now, don’t go wasting it and making a mess for poor Miss Bunny Tits to clean up. If you don’t want it, I’ll help you finish it off. I love this flavor.”
“Ah… sure…” I scrambled to my feet, and let her take the milkshake from me. She helped herself to a long drag and seemed to quite enjoy it enough to forget her phone in her other hand.
“Oh, my girlfriend has the same phone case…” I blurted out, after mere moments felt like too much silence.
The girl gave a start. Realizing she was still holding her phone, she stuffed it into her garish heart shaped purse. “Oh? You have a girlfriend already? A shame. My fuck buddy just canceled on me out of the blue and even with the ogling, you seem like my type.”
I gaped. “I… uh…wait wha- no, hang on. I meant ‘ex.’ My ex-girlfriend did. We broke up recently, so I still sometimes just say ‘girlfriend’ out of habit.”
Her eyes narrowed and she smiled around the straw. “I see… so does that mean, you’re… interested? I’m Sarah, by the way.”
I licked my lips. I had jumped the gun when I heard I had a chance, but what about Carole? I glanced around furtively and made sure no one was around who knew me.
No, Carole was the one who stood me up and put me in this position in the first place. Not to mention, she wouldn’t be around so she didn’t have to know.
“Ross. I’m Ross. And yeah, I’m in. In fact. I know just the place.”
______________________________
I felt a little guilty. Just a bit. Not enough to stop Sarah from giving me the best blowjob I had ever felt. As expected of a pro. At least, I assumed she was based on what she had said. I leaned back against the back of a building, the overhangs casting the back alley in early evening shade. The tanned girl varied her rhythm as she swallowed and sucked my dick; her tongue technique and pressure were incredible. Carole had given me head before, but she wasn’t as good at it. Just as I was thinking it though, Sarah pulled back, letting my manhood slip from her lips but rose to catch it on her bosom.
“This is quite the spicy spot. Someone could come around that corner at any moment, huh? Nothing would stop them. Not that anyone would go out back behind a convenience store. Unless…” She murmured in a sultry tone. “You have daring taste. I like that. And this.” She took hold of her breasts and pulled them apart, allowing my dick to submerge within their hot, soft embrace. “This is quite the specimen, as well.” I wasn’t small, but she giggled as her boobs nearly engulfed my shaft entirely. Only when she shifted her diaphragm low did the tip of my penis poke out from her cleavage.
Already close from the blowjob, feeling her huge tits slide along my length quickly pushed me to the brink.
“Ah…” I breathed, “I’m cumming!”
Sarah lowered herself so that my head breached her sea of softness, allowing her to swiftly bring her lips over it just as I burst. I could feel her gently sucking, drawing more and more of my semen out. I couldn’t believe how long it felt like my orgasm lasted, but when it finally subsided, Sarah let me go, licking her lips with a mischievous look.
“Not bad,” she grinned. “Hope you’re not done already, though!” She rose and ran hands down her body, starting with her breasts, and drawing my eye down along her curves to her waist. She knew exactly what her figure could do to a man. When her hands reached her hips, she hooked her thumbs into the low hanging short shorts and pulled them down along with her panties as she traced her hips, stopping when she could simply let go of the garments and let them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of them and turned, showing her backside. She had an almost comically small pair of angel wings tattooed over her shoulder blades, and down the middle of her back was another tattoo of a zipper that ran from the nape of her neck down along her spine to her tailbone.
I swallowed hard, feeling my junk fighting its refractory period to get hard again in a hurry.
Sarah braced herself against the far wall and stuck out her rear, reaching back with one hand to spread one cheek and show off her sopping, eager pussy.
“My other mouth’s thirsty, too, Ross. Hurry.”
Encouraged by the shameless display, I stepped up, finally feeling myself grow harder again, just in time to line myself up with her waiting folds.
“Mhm… mahhh…” She groaned softly, squirming a bit as I inserted myself, until I had sheathed myself entirely up to the base in her hot, moist grip. I marveled at how amazing it felt inside of her, her insides seeming to convulse around my girth, so much so that I almost forgot to start moving my hips. It felt a shame to pull out, but the pleasing friction of pulling against her flesh and, when I was almost out, the anticipation of driving back in made up for it. Soon, I found myself bucking against her; hands gripping her hips like handles, my thighs slapped against her butt as I strove to push myself deeper each time.
Having just came, I lasted a bit longer like that than earlier, but even so, our time copulating felt simultaneously like an eternity suspended in pleasure but also as brief as a blink. Pressure building in my sacs gave the barest warning before I blew my load, filling Sarah with almost as much as I had let out before, to my surprise.
I took in a deep breath, filling lungs with blessed air. Had I forgotten to breathe while overcome with such pleasure? I felt the usual post coitus fatigue set in, and though I really didn’t want to pull out, I feared I’d collapse on top of my impromptu partner if I let myself stay connected. Gingerly, I withdrew myself and retreated to give her space, stumbling a little and catching myself back against the far alleyway wall, while Sarah seemed content to remain how she was as she caught her own breath.
I saw a large dollop of white slime ooze from Sarah’s pussy, falling sloppily to the ground between her wide stance, followed by another. That had never happened before… or at least, Carole had never let me see it. Had I really cum that much? Given the length and intensity of my orgasms this time, perhaps it was possible. Why this time was so different, though, was a mystery. Because I was ch-cheating? Because Sarah was hotter than Carole? Carole was plenty attractive in her own right… My mind wandered a bit in the haze until my eyes refocused on the small puddle of jizz collecting between Sarah’s feet and finally had a terrifying realization.
“Ah shit… I went in raw without thinking about it,” I groaned.
Having recovered some, Sarah straightened up and stretched. She turned back around to face me with an unconcerned smile.
“Don’t worry. It’s alright. Maybe not your relationship status, but you don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant. After all, this isn’t a real pussy,” she explained nonchalantly. She adjusted her stance now that her slit seemed to have stopped leaking.
Wait, what? I blinked, hearing her words but not understanding.
“Ross?!”
My head snapped to look at the familiar voice whimpering from the alley’s corner. A pale, confused hand gripped her long red curls. Her eyes wide, her cherry pink lips hung open as she stared in shock.
My heart stopped. “C-C-Carole? It- it’s not what it looks like!” I stammered before my brain caught up. Though, really, what else could it be? My voice failed me as I felt my relationship and reputation crumble around me.
“See, what did I tell you, he’s a man like any other – weak to temptation,” Sarah told the blubbering redhead. That was… not what I had expected her to say.
“Wha… what’s going on?” I managed to ask hoarsely, looking between the two girls.
Carole drew closer, ambling unsteadily. Sarah swayed forth meeting her half way and Carole folded into the other woman’s arms, burying her face in Sarah’s tan bosom. Sarah looked back at me with a smug sneer.
“I met Carole a few weeks ago after you’d let her down. Who only gets themselves off during sex and then just leaves? Well turns out a girl can only fake her orgasms for so long before the sex starts becoming a loveless chore. Feeling uncertain about your relationship and sexually unsatisfied, she found me and spilled her guts. I swing both ways and it was so hard to just leave her alone after that. So we started dating in secret. Whenever you left her wanting, she’d visit me afterwards and I’d finish her off for you.”
I didn’t understand. All I could do was stare as Sarah once again widened her stance and reached between her legs. She inserted one finger into her cunt with a look of concentration, followed by another and another, her folds stretching unnaturally until her entire hand had disappeared inside her. When she pulled her hand out, she drew with it a thick black phallus. Erect and slick with clear juices, it must have been three or four inches larger than my dick even at my biggest, and girthier to boot. Carole let go of Sarah to kneel before her, mirroring the scene in that very alley from earlier, only instead of Sarah giving me head, it was Carole sucking off Sarah.
“Is… is that? That’s a dildo, right?” I asked. It looked too big to be real, not to mention the color stood out against Sarah’s light orange-brown tan…
“Is it?” Sarah responded tauntingly, “I wonder…” she laughed, resting a hand on Caroles head as she worked the shaft. Carole alternated between running her tongue along the massive member’s length and girth and attempting to deepthroat it. Sarah kept throwing me amused looks between guiding her tool deeper down Carole’s throat till the redhead was finally able to swallow the huge thing to the base. It would have been an incredible display if it weren’t so incredibly messed up.
Sarah’s face scrunched up finally and as Carole let the tanned girl’s huge dick out of her mouth, my head spun at the thick stream of ropy white goo that spewed from the tip, plastering Carole’s face. Sarah let out a pleasured sigh and glanced at me then at the puddle where I had fucked her just minutes earlier. The puddle was still there.
“Ha, did you perhaps think you had produced all that?”
I looked away, my cheeks flushing. This was as humiliating as it was confusing, and I had had about enough.
Angrily, I packed myself back into my pants and stood, but found the duo standing in my way. Carole had produced a towel from somewhere and cleaned herself up a bit, but there were still globs of white in her hair and on her clothes. For Sarah’s part, the tanned girl was still bottomless, with the thick black… no dark brown dick shaped thing poking out from her nethers, still hard as ever. I noticed a milky white bead remained on the tip as I eyed it.
I didn’t know what to think of the thing. I’d never heard of a… err… shemale? Transwoman? Futanari? whatever Sarah actually was: She clearly had a pussy – I had felt it myself. Yet, she was able to produce this extra appendage… seemingly from within her womanhood, assuming my eyes hadn’t betrayed me earlier. Seeing it in action had shaken me, but I got my nerves under control and reconsidered things logically.
I knew that realistic dildos, even ones capable of ejaculating, existed. If modern technology could give androids realistic human exterior skins, then the same technology could make such dildos equally indistinguishable from the real deal. The only mystery was how Sarah had hidden it. Maybe it was collapsable? To an extreme degree? Wait, what did Sarah mean about her pussy not being real? Could that… Aah! Forget it, this wasn’t worth thinking about.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sarah grabbed my arm as I turned to try to leave out the other side of the alley. “We’re not finished with you yet.”
I felt my anger flare again. I’d tried to be civil and accept my failure as a boyfriend by getting out of the way. “What?” I asked flatly. “You’re not done humiliating me? I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, let Sarah seduce me? Why am I the villain for that when she was the one who came on to me? I shouldn’t have succumb, but she shouldn’t be blameless for inviting me!” I spat, my voice rising with each word.
Carole looked around nervously, and Sarah put a finger to her lips to shush me. “Hang on, hang on, we’re the ones who should be apologizing. We took things too far, sorry Ross.”
That… disarmed me.
“Wh-what now?”
The girls shared guilty grins with each other before Sarah turned, showing me her back once more. Before my eyes, I watched as Carole dug her fingers into what I thought was a zipper tattoo at Sarah’s neck and drew the chuck down the woman’s back. With Carole’s continued help, Sarah’s tanned back stretched, revealing a different pale back just underneath her skin. That’s what it was, as I watched – just a skin, that, once it had peeled and stretched far enough, a familiar bundle of red locks breached from the opening.
I once again stared (I’d done that a lot this afternoon, it seemed), as I was faced with two Caroles. The one that had been inside the Sarah skin…suit? offered an apologetic smile.
“The plan had been just to tease you a little before we reveal these, but as I said, we got carried away and ended up taking the teasing too far.”
The Carole who had appeared to catch us earlier reached behind her neck and I had to watch in horror as my girlfriend’s lovely features deformed and her head deflated as she removed her own skinsuit, revealing a vaguely familiar freckled girl with short blonde hair. No, I did recognize her. She was Carole’s friend. The one I saw talking to her after the exam earlier.
“Sorry,” Amy conceded guiltily. “We did go too far, but there’s a good reason for… well the original plan.”
I raised an eyebrow, still unsure of how to feel.
“Well, the truth is,” the real Carole started, “I have been a little unsatisfied with our sex life. Don’t get me wrong, finding these semi-public places is great, but it’s not really my kink. This is my kink.” She lifted the husk of Sarah’s upper half that still hung flaccidly from her waist. I was aware in my mind that the black phallic thing was probably still there hidden behind the skin. “I know it’s weird and you’re probably traumatized by it now after what we did, but I wanted you to experience it first hand before you could judge it. You’d shared your interest in public sex with me, and you know, we can combine the two. They’re not mutually exclusive. But… um.. well, I’ll tell you more if you’re interested, but I just want to first ask for your forgiveness. I really don’t want to break up with you, and I’m sorry for even falsely giving that impression.” She bowed her head nervously. Amy did the same next to her.
I was hurt for sure, but I also found I couldn’t reject her earnest apology. I sighed deeply.
“Alright. I forgive you. But you definitely do have a lot of explaining to do.”
Both girls looked up, meeting my eyes with relief and excitement.
“Let’s go back to my place. We’ve been out here for a while and made quite a mess already, so we can relax and talk more freely in some real privacy,” Carole suggested, and Amy nodded emphatically before both girls began putting their suits the rest of the way back on. Walking around half suited was, understandably not an option.
It was as surreal watching Carole pull Sarah’s skin back over herself as it had been seeing her shed it. Sarah had a different body shape from Carole – Sarah was generally bigger all around, while still maintaining feminine proportions, so it almost seemed like Carole grew inside the suit to match the new form. Without any empty skinsuit to obscure it, it quickly became impossible to ignore the elephant in the alley, and once Sarah’s gray eyes fluttered open she offered me a grin, keenly aware of what I was thinking.
“As you guessed earlier, this is a dildo. A fancy one, too, as you saw. As for how I do this,” she prefaced before taking hold of the incongruous appendage and slowly pushing it back inside herself. Amazingly “Sarah’s” pussy swallowed the huge thing whole leaving nothing but her feminine lips to be covered by her string thong and short shorts. “That’s one of the interesting and convenient side effects of these skinsuits’ spatial shapers.”
“Spatial shapers? Like that packing technology? The one that lets you stuff a whole closet of clothes in one suitcase?”
“The very same!” Amy picked up the explanation as she adjusted Carole’s face. It was bizarre seeing wrinkles in my girlfriend’s very face, only for her to smooth them out and be left with a perfectly normal and natural looking face the next moment. Also that she wasn’t actually my girlfriend. “Spatial shaping tech manipulates space – it can make something too big fit into a smaller area, and conversely, it can allow something too small to fill out a larger volume. In this case, skinsuits were adapted from skins for androids. Even those were being developed with spatial shaping inside to allow androids to pack more technology and features before letting the skin hide the extra bulk. For our skinsuits, the spatial shaping tech was refind by private endeavors to make sure it’s safe for people to wear. The result is as you see – what amounts to a perfect disguise anyone can wear.”
“Pretty amazing, huh?” “Sarah” took over the spontaneous seminar, apparently unable to help herself, despite saying they’d wait till they got back to the apartment. “This kink’s been around for a while, but as Amy said, only recently has modern technology given us ways to actually realize it properly in real life. Aside from fetishists like us, there’s some real case uses for skinsuits in film and medicine. Oh, as a fetish, it’s called ‘Skinsuit’ or ‘Kawamono’ in Japanese. It has historically been portrayed in media as disguises for spy movies or mystery cartoons. Some popular horror/slasher media also technically falls under the umbrella but while some fiction in the kink can undeniably get that gory and twisted, most of the fetish usually focuses less on the body horror and more on personal exploration and experimentation or with the social changes that come with the ability to become someone not yourself. It’s adjacent to Transformation and Possession but still it’s its own thing most of the time.” I wasn’t really following most of it, but it was cute and a little amusing hearing her enthusiastically prattle on like an innocent introvert finally allowed to spill about their current hyperfixation, all while redressing Sarah in her slutty get up.
“Some elitists from other fetishes have condescendingly called skinsuiting ‘transformation with extra steps,’ or similarly, ‘possession with extra steps,’ since it can go towards either if the story choses to create a skinsuit from magic or technology or if there’s a victim that becomes a suit to be worn. For a lot of us though, those extra steps themselves actually add a bit of believability. Rather than, ‘I can just magically turn into someone else,’ it feels more feasible to find a mysterious suit that can transform me into someone else, right? It’s a lower bar to achieve. Even if the suit is also magic in the end, making the origins of the suit more realistic or ambiguous removes some of the burden on suspension of disbelief, at least that’s how it was in skinsuit fiction of the past. Now that we actually have real skinsuits, we don’t have to exist solely in fantasy anymore. Ahh I’m so glad I was born into this era!” Amy, or rather ‘Carole’ added. I was going to have to figure out how to think of them and fast. Might be best to think of her as… an Amy variant of Carole, perhaps? “A!Carole”? I’d have to ask them how they do it.
“So I suppose you obviously share this kink,” I observed, directing the statement at A!Carole.
“Guilty,” my girlfriend’s impersonator admitted. “Imagine my surprise when I found out we were both into this. It is not and probably never will be a common fetish, but our numbers have grown over the years.” That sounded like a story in of itself. For another time perhaps though.
“About that, Ross,” Sarah piped up. “There was another thing I was wondering about, Ross. When I was Sarah earlier, I mentioned that I swing both ways. That’s… actually true. I was wondering if you’d be okay with Amy sometimes joining us. You don’t have to commit to dating her and she won’t take me away from you. In fact it’s probably best if you pretend like your just distant acquaintances still while in public. But in private, I thought it might be fun if she could join us as a fuck buddy. We can sort out the specifics later.”
I blinked. “Um…” I shot A!Carole a look and she blushed (the suits can do that, even?) and nodded in confirmation.
“If you don’t mind.”
I scratched one cheek sheepishly. “Well, I can’t say I mind. I was er.. baited by Sarah after all. What guy wouldn’t relish the opportunity to have fun with two lovely ladies?”
“Aww! You’re the best, Ross! Thanks for being so open minded!” Sarah squealed excitedly and pounced, taking one of my arms and hugging it. A!Carole took the other, doing the same. I felt extremely self conscious waltzing out of the back alley behind the convenience store with A!Carole on one arm and Sarah on the other, especially with the latter dressed as she was.
With the enticing prospect of imminent and future threesomes, I allowed myself to be hauled back to the girls’ apartment.
______________________________
The girls began stripping the moment they were safe behind closed doors. I supposed they had an extra layer to get through if they were going to remove their skinsuits, too. The show was a feast for the eyes regardless, even with the weirdness that came from my being unaccustomed yet to skinsuits. Now that I was in a bit more of a stable emotional state, it was almost humorous seeing Sarah’s bare tits once more deflated like balloons and peel away to allow Carole’s own smaller, but still perky and sizeable mounds to breathe.
Amy stripped from her Carole skinsuit, revealing an attractive body in her own right. She was only a bit smaller in the bust department than Carole, but that was probably because she was thinner on all fronts.
While Carole was used to being naked in front of me, Amy was expectedly a bit more bashful. And to be honest, getting naked myself, I felt a little more guarded than usual, too. But I pushed that feeling away; it served no purpose here.
“You’re beautiful in your own way,” I tried to reassure her with a warm smile. She smiled nervously back.
“It’s pretty different being yourself than being in a skin. I didn’t have any trouble doing fellato for ‘Sarah’ as Carole, but now that I’m, er.. myself… well don’t worry about me. I’ll get used to it,” she told me.
I noticed too late to warn her and Carole snuck up behind her roommate and slid her arms under Amy’s, grabbing handfuls of the other girl’s breasts.
“Amy’s cute as a doll,” Carole snickered from behind her friend. “Hey, Ross, did you know that cup size is a relative measurement? It’s not just the size of her bust, but the size of her bust compared against the size of her frame. So even though Amy’s smaller than me, she’s still a D cup like me, just with a different band size.”
I felt my smile twitch. What exactly was I supposed to do with that information? “Is that so?”
“Indeed. Why don’t you come appreciate Amy’s Ds like you love mine.”
“C-Carole!?” Amy squawked.
“Uh… But I’m not sure Amy feels quite ready for that,” I rebutted as politely as I could. As exciting as it was to have a third, I still wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone I wasn’t as used to being intimate with. Especially since she seemed shy herself.
“This is the best way to get over that awkwardness though,” Carole insisted. “For both of you.”
“No, she’s right,” Amy admitted and stopped struggling, allowing Carole to present her assets for my… appreciation. Well, if she said it was okay, I wasn’t going to object.
“Mnghnn…” Amy winced and moaned softly as I gently cupped her breasts. As Carole had mentioned, they weren’t as big as hers, but they were still quite full and soft. Much like Carole’s they were pleasant to knead, but there was some discernible difference, even if I wasn’t quite observant enough to be able to tell specifically what. It made sense though – all women were different in their own ways.
The mood heated up as Amy and I grew aroused. As I played with her tits, I noticed Carole’s hands slide down to tease Amy’s nethers, and Amy herself moved her hands down to stroke my stiffening member. As things often did when we got in a sexual flow, we moved on instinct, finding each other in sync even without words. Amy shifted down to begin sucking me off. Carole took her place in my embrace and we kissed. Carole switched places with Amy again, letting me kiss the thinner blonde, appreciating how her cute freckles also flecked her shoulders and dotted her chest. I was getting close so I stopped Carole and moved the girls to the bed where I laid them down and ate them each out in turn. They clasped hands as they moaned. Finally it came time to take the next step.
The girls inserted their contraceptive inserts. Small bullet shaped inserts that, in my admittedly limited knowledge on the topic, functioned like suppositories – melting from body heat and coating their insides with a thin, potent, but safe spermicide. Amy climbed back on the bed, but Carole stood up and made for her walk-in closet.
“Amy can go first, I’ll be right back,” Carole suggested before disappearing into her closet’s depths.
“If she says so, huh?” I joked lightly with Amy, who giggled back.
“Carole’s er… broken me in already, but you’ll be the first guy I’ve been with,” she murmured.
“Oh, lucky me,” I grinned before we kissed once more.
She laid down on her back. Missionary was a good place to start. I lined up my cock with her waiting slit and slowly pushed my way in. Knowing how kinky Carole could get, I could picture her fucking Amy with that black dildo from before and I had a moment’s fear that my size couldn’t match up to what sexual technology could offer. But fortunately Amy’s folds convulsed tightly around me, and she moaned softly, seeming to be feeling me plenty. My hips rocked, not for the first time that day, and it probably would not be the last either. Close as the girls had gotten me, I felt myself on the edge of orgasm pretty soon, but the taunts from earlier echoed in my ears. I held myself back as long as I could last before I couldn’t keep myself contained any longer and my semen burst forth.
“Ah! I’m cumming!” I breathed. “S-sorry, was that too soon?” Having shot twice already earlier I didn’t have much to give and my orgasm was comparably short, but I still found it reasonably satisfying. “How was it?” I asked nervously as I pulled out.
Amy reached up and pulled me onto the sheets next to her where she rested her forehead against mine, her face still flushed.
“Don’t worry, you were great. Thank you,” she whispered. I felt relieved.
“Don’t go falling asleep just yet, Babe. The night’s just beginning,” Carole’s voice pierced my growing fatigue. Rising I glanced over to see her holding a long orange-brown garment in one hand, her other behind her back. No, not a garment. A skinsuit. “But we will give your penis a well deserved break for now.”
“Wait, you want me to wear that?” I asked, incredulously.
“I said anyone could wear these, didn’t I?” Carole asserted smugly. “That means anyone.”
I frowned. “I… wait didn’t Amy say that?” Inspecting the skinsuit, I could tell from the extra baggy flesh around the chest and lack of anything between the thighs that it was a female skinsuit. The long blonde hair and tanned skin tone clicked. It was not just any female skinsuit. The image of Sarah’s voluptuous curves entered my mind, and to my surprise, imagining myself wearing that form aroused me considerably.
Well, since I was getting a threesome out of it, I supposed it was only fair I played along. At worst, I could handle some laughs at my expense. And at best…
“Alright, what the fuck, let’s give it a try.”
Carole and Amy directed me to the edge of the bed and led me through the process of putting the skinsuit on. The opening in the back was the starting point. They guided my legs in first; it was like putting on a wetsuit, yet somehow the material slid over my skin more easily than I expected. Pulling the skin taut from the upper thighs, I wiggled my toes and watched as Sarah’s painted purple toe nails waggled back at me. In my mind, it felt off – like my legs and feet should have been bigger than they looked and felt, and the dissonance was a bit trippy. Despite that, the sensation of compression against my skin was not an unpleasant one.
“Ah!” I gasped as Amy put one finger on my covered thigh, running it down my leg before tickling the bottom of my foot. “Ah! Hey! I… I can feel that.” I could feel the skinsuit against my skin, yet at the same time, I felt Amy’s touch as if the skinsuit’s surface was my own skin.
“Another trick of the spatial manipulation in conjunction with some other technology I don’t understand myself – sensations are transferred through directly. As if it’s your own skin. Wait till you feel her boobs,” Amy chuckled as she explained.
“Before that though, we need to take care of your junk,” Carole interjected.
“Huh.. so do I need to tuck or som- ack!” I asked but my girlfriend cut me off, casually reaching into the skin and grabbing my equipment. She guided it into a pocket in the interior surface of the skinsuit.
“That’s what this is there for. It’s where I stored my dildo before. It connects to an extra space that then links to the suit’s vagina but doesn’t intrude unless you tell it to, so when you know how to, you can project your manhood out through the pussy,” Carole informed me.
“And how do I do that?”
“With that taken care of, let’s keep going. Once you’re used to it, you can get in and out of suits pretty quickly. I’d already be done if I were putting Sarah back on myself!” Carole evaded the question with a smile. I could guess what that meant. She had said my cock would be taking a break.
The girls had me pull the suit up over my hips and waist and held it for me as I inserted my hands into the opening in the back, finding the arm holes and sliding into those. Following the girls’ instructions, I pulled the torso up over my shoulders and slid all the way into the arms in one motion. To my initial disappointment, Sarah’s funbags remained deflated against my chest as I fixed my fingers that had missed their respective digits, a process that was interrupted when Amy zipped up the seam along my back up part way. Apparently it was far enough to trigger something in the suit though, because Sarah’s breasts suddenly came to life, actually flinging my arms out. Carole was in their path and got smacked.
“Oh my God!” Carole snorted laughing. “They puffed up like airbags and.. pft hahaha!”
“Was it that funny getting hit? Since when do you snort when you laugh?” I forced a laugh of my own, trying to keep up the playful teasing atmosphere, though I was too excited and anxious to feel as amused myself. At least she didn’t seem hurt.
“I’m fine. Are you okay? A little warning next time, Amy!” Carole answered, fighting down her giggles.
“S-sorry!” Amy squeaked from behind me. “I didn’t realize it would do that. I thought it had to be all the way on before changes applied. At least, when putting on fully for the first time.”
“Depends on the suit and maker, I think,” Carole surmised. “Alright, anyway, all that’s left is the head. Ready, Ross?”
“Uh… as ready as I’ll be,” I nodded, resisting the urge to play with the new weights on my chest. They were heavy, and really pulled on my shoulders and back. No wonder some women had back issues, and they didn’t have the convenience of being able to take them off like I would.
The girls showed me that the zipper hole stretched far more than I expected it’d be able. I held my breath on instinct as if diving underwater, and they pulled the reverse hood up over my head. Everything went dark and I felt a pressure over my entire head and face.
“Easiest thing is to find the nose and lip slots and everything else should align itself from there,” I heard Amy instruct me. I plucked at the fabric covering my face, remembering watching the girls do it behind the store earlier. It shifted on my face until I felt my nose slot in. My lips found their spots as well and as promised I could suddenly tell what parts needed a little tug here or there. Before long, I opened my new eyes.
Without the husk of Sarah’s head blocking my view, I had an unimpeded view of Sarah’s beautiful tits filling the bottom of my vision. My hands found the soft, warm mounds without thought, and I felt an electric shock run through my body when my fingers found my new nipples.
“Ah!” a sultry moan escaped my mouth several octaves higher than my voice should have been. “M-my voice has changed, too!?” I remarked, both in surprise and testing my voice. Now that I thought back on it, Sarah sounded distinct from Carole, so it did seem consistent that suits also changed the wearer’s voice accordingly. “How?” I looked at Carole, but she just shrugged.
“Dunno. Another thing I know suits can do, but I’m not an expert on how they work. Probably also different depending on the suit and maker. Either way, that’s over my head. I just know that these ones do. Besides, it’s more important what you do with them, isn’t it?”
“R-right…” I felt at my throat and also noticed the lack of an Adam’s apple. It reminded me of one other key spot that would be different from what I was used to as a man.
Carole caught my wrist before I could get between my legs though.
“Nu-uh. Not yet. We’ll give you plenty of experience with your new found femininity soon enough, so just be patient. The night’s still young,” she told me commandingly. I had a feeling I’d be hearing that phrase a lot tonight, even when it stopped being true.
I wasn’t used to her being so dominant, and maybe it was my new, unfamiliar body, but I found her taking the lead weirdly comforting.
“Over here.”
I hadn’t noticed Amy step away but she returned from Carole’s walk-in closet with a sly smirk. I was beginning to understand that Amy was more comfortable around women; her previous shyness seemed to have dissipated once I had sheathed myself in the other girl’s form. Instead, the blonde strut forward, boldly letting a large light purple strap-on dildo sway affixed to her crotch by a black leather harness strapped around her hips.
Given the direction of the last few minutes and the knowledge that Carole had one, I wasn’t surprised to see a second dildo rear itself now that I sported a pussy of my own. I wasn’t surprised, but I was intimidated as fuck. The purple one eyed monster looked even bigger on Amy’s slender frame, making it seem almost grotesque. She climbed onto the bed and stood in the center. I turned, mesmerized, following the wobbling tool and found it hovering in my face.
“Hope you were paying attention when we were sucking you off earlier. Cause now it’s your turn,” Amy declared, folding her arms under her bosom.
Up close, my fears multiplied. There was no way the huge thing would fit. Like Carole’s toy, It was bigger than my cock by several inches and girthier, to match. As I felt her press the thing against my lips, I noticed it was even warm, and seemed to twitch in response to contact. For all the things technology had advanced, of course it would be sexcraft on the cutting edge.
“Come on, suck on it. It’s only fair after we swallowed yours, right?” Amy prodded. She pushed against my lips a bit more with her tip. My transformation really seemed to have unleashed a different side of the freckled blonde. Was this what it was called being a ‘switch?’
Unsure of what other option I had, I parted my lips and let her enter. My jaw felt wrenched wide as she forayed into my mouth, and when she found the back of my throat, there was still a good quarter of her toy still outside my mouth.
I felt hands on my head, preventing me from retreating.
“That’s no good, Sarah. You need to take it all the way to the base or your partner won’t be satisfied! Isn’t that what we’re practicing for?” Carole’s voice whispered in my ear.
Amy smiled innocently and jerked her hips forward, invading my throat and making me gag. I shuddered, my eyes tearing, and my nose pressing up against the leather harness but Carole held me fast from behind. It felt like forever, but eventually Amy pulled back, withdrawing entirely from my mouth and allowing me to breathe again.
“Well that’s no good, but I suppose until you’re ready for proper deepthroat practice you can work on other fellatio techniques,” Carole’s voice was gentle but her admonishment stung. The redhead climbed onto the bed next to Amy. She had equipped her own strap-on, bringing the purple phallic toy reinforcements in the form of a dark brown cock. It wasn’t as big as Amy’s but it was just as thick and up close, I could see a fleshy texture and veins. It was indeed one of those top quality ones presumably using the same skinsuit technology that I was currently wearing to disguise an ejaculating dildo as a real cock.
I was right when I suspected that Carole’s toy would be the harder one to service. I had to suppress a gag reflex even before getting my lips around it. It even smelled and tasted authentic – a musk and hint of salty sweat respectively assaulted my senses as I opened my mouth to let it in. The hot, firm yet springy rod was an oppressive presence in my maw, yet Carole seemed to enjoy my performance, so I forced myself to focus on that. It must have had another side inserted into her womanhood that reacted to what I did to this end, because she would twitch or moan as I got more accustomed to and bolder in working her shaft.
“Hey, don’t forget me, too.” Amy asserted, pushing her purple toy in my face once more. I let go of Carole’s and swallowed down Amy’s. Despite the shaky start, we fell into a rhythm like before and even I was feeling aroused and comfortable by the end. My trance was shattered before long though.
“Ah… I’m… it’s cumming!”
“Me too!”
I felt the brown appendage in my mouth pulse just moments before hot, ropy ejaculate burst forth into my mouth, slamming down my throat before I could react. I choked on the bitter/salty slime and reeled back. To my side Amy’s dildo similarly began squirting thick dollops of imitation cum. Between the two of them, I was covered in seconds. I could keenly feel the hot milky spunk clinging and dripping from my skin.
As I was wiping the fake jizz from my eyes, I felt warm bodies settle in next to me. The girls cuddled each of my arms, unconcerned by the slime.
“Sorry, we got a little rough there,” Carole cooed in my ear. I felt her cup my heavy breasts, and I gasped as she gave them a pinch. Amy did the same on the other side almost in sync. “I’m a little excited I finally get to share this with you. I never thought it’d be possible. I was so afraid of sharing this fetish since a lot of people hear it and assume the worst. Thanks for giving it a chance. Now, lay down and relax. We’ll show you what it’s really like to feel like a woman.”
I did as I was told and Amy occupied my top half with some intense frenching while she played with my tits. Down below, I felt Carole spread my legs. I felt her breath upon my mound just moments before she began.
“Don’t worry, Sarah’s not a virgin, so you don’t have to worry about your first time hurting. Lucky you,” Amy whispered, taking a break from their making out.
I barely heard her as the first stroke of Carole’s tongue against my folds sent a shock of pleasure up my spine into the back of my head. I hadn’t even recovered from the first before she struck again. I struggled to maintain any self-awareness as I felt her suck and tease my pussy, alternating between slashing across my folds and clit with her tongue and shoving it into my depths. If this was what just a tongue felt like, I could hardly imagine how a full penis felt, much less the monster toys the girls sported. I knew that would be coming, yet I was helpless to prepare myself, brought to a blubbering, sweating mess just from Carole’s cunnilingus. When Carole rose, satisfied with the foreplay, I had already cum twice – at least, I assumed that was what I had felt. It was different from a man’s building pressure and powerful singular release. It wasn’t as intense in a single moment, but rather, wave after wave of ever escalating pleasure that, altogether synergized for a wild experience.
“Hang in there, Sarah, the best part hasn’t even begun yet,” Amy purred, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
I felt something nuzzle my folds once more. The mere touch made my breath catch. It was coming. Amy held my hands tightly as Carole put more pressure behind her hips. I could feel my quivering flower resist for just a moment, before giving way, parting to allow the ever insistent appendage entry into my depths. I groaned. The feeling of being entered, of the fleshy toy scraping against my walls accelerated the waves of pleasure.
“Halfway in…” Carole’s voice informed me. Only half way?
Color bloomed and my vision blurred and I felt my whole body curl. It was painful, like I was being split down the center. Yet it was also pleasurable, like… my whole pelvic area had become as hot and sensitive as a dick mid orgasm. That wasn’t quite right, but I wasn’t sure how else to describe it.
“Haaah, yeah… I shoved the rest all in at once. That’s what that was… hehe. Alright, I’m gonna start moving now, enjoy~” my girlfriend sighed, clearly enjoying herself as well.
It was like Carole’s oral before, but more intense, and accompanied by a new sense of fullness in my pelvis whenever she pushed her false dick in. I was helpless beneath her as she bore down on me, and I came so hard I feared my body would break, if not from the overwhelming stimulation, then from the huge toy driving into me.
I don’t know how long we went on, but I only recognized Carole’s orgasm by her lustful moans accompanied by a new hot sensation filling me below my stomach. I was delirious from the pleasure. My mind was a haze. I vaguely registered Carole and Amy switching places before the sensations assaulted me anew.
I don’t remember what happened after that – everything was a blur of feelings. Heat, pleasure, sticky moistness, sweat.
Eventually I passed out and the next morning I woke.
Something felt wrong. My head was fuzzy and my whole body was sore. As I sat up, I nearly fell over again because weight on my chest messed with my sense of balance.
Weight on my chest?
My eyes refocused and I realized that I had the biggest, fattest tits I’d ever seen mounted to my front.
“Whaa!” I yelped before I could stop myself. My bedfellows stirred as I cupped my bulbous mammaries and tried to process the organs and my high pitched, girly voice at the same time.
“Mhm? Sarah? What’s wrong?” Carole muttered, leaning into me and even casually resting her chin on one of my breasts like a pillow. “Nightmare?”
“I’m… what? I’m a girl?” My mind couldn’t process this first in the morning.
“What’s the matter?” Amy on my other side groped my other breast making me gasp again. “Of course you’re a girl. Would a guy have these beautiful melons?”
“I… no, but…” I studdered. “But I’m not a girl… My name is…"
“Sarah,” Amy filled in for me, but I shook my head. That wasn’t right.
“No, I’m… Ross. I’m a guy… but…”
“Alright, that’s enough teasing,” Carole reprimanded Amy. The blonde stuck out her tongue playfully but rolled back under the sheets where it was warm. Carole picked herself up and faced me properly. “You’re right. You are Ross. Do you remember what we did last night? First behind the convenience store, and again once you got back here to our place?”
Slowly the shock of waking up with boobs faded and the adrenaline made room for my memories to return.
“This is… a skinsuit?” I testingly pinched my cheek. It hurt, scarily, but I was able to find the superficial layer and it stretched far more easily than a cheek should.
“That’s right. We were… experimenting last night. We got a bit rough, probably more than we should have for your first time as a girl. But did you enjoy it at least?” Carole asked repentantly.
Thinking back I remember surprise, and a bit of shame, but also a lot of pleasure, intense sensations that lasted a lot longer than I was used to orgasms lasting. I nodded cautiously, but upon seeing Carole’s radiant relieved smile, I felt myself relax.
“Good… good. Do you think you’d be… open to trying more like this sometime?”
It was a little scary, but at the same time, it was hard to imagine never getting to experience that again now that I had had a taste for it. My pride as a man protested, but I suppressed it. Carole had shared this side of her with me. The least I could do is respect her courage. And it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy it in the end.
“Y… yeah. I’d want- I’d be up for that.”
Carole grinned. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear. Thank you, Ross! I love you!”
That smile.
That damn smile.
______________________________
Wearing a light red, sheer nightgown, Carole smiled at her boyfriend’s back until he disappeared from view, shielding her eyes from the morning sun. Once he was all cleaned up, stripped from Sarah’s husk, and headed back to his place, she retreated back within the shade of her apartment and closed and locked the door behind her. In the entryway, she glanced up at her security camera, studying the lens as it automatically focused on her.
“Did you enjoy the show? If you liked the warm and fuzzies, stop here. If you have a taste for darkness though, come with me. The password will be...” she paused to consider.
"1MoreLayer"
The camera feed flickered and froze and a link appeared in the center of the image:
https://subcutaneouslover.wordpress.com/vulnerability-revealed
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What if athletes could compete in a body perfectly designed for their sport? What if the same athletes had to compete again in a randomly-asssigned body?In the not-too-distant future, technology has advanced to allow people to experience life in any body of their choosing, then return to their own body after six hours. Athletes compete in body-swapping sports to test their skills, their athletic intelligence, and the genetic limits of the human body.
As usual, the tingling subsided as soon as Zella stepped out of the chamber. She looked down over her new body - well by now, she’d spent so much time in this body, pushing it to its physical limits, the lines were starting to blur between this body and her own. She studied her hands.
“You know what,” she said carefully. “Let’s do the longer fingers.”
“You sure?” asked Nix. “These are the ones I gave you for the time trials yesterday.”
“Yep. I was thinking about it last night. They didn't feel quite right.”
Zella turned on her heels and clicked the door to the chamber open again.
“Zel, this isn’t the time to play around,” her coach, Liza, said sternly from over Nix’s shoulder. “Your career is on the line.”
“I’m sure.” Zella said confidently as she lay down on the chamber’s smooth white bench. “Change the fingers.”
Nix tapped on the projection display in front of him and the chamber’s machinery whirred. Zella felt the familiar pins and needles, but only in her fingers this time. Finally, the whirring stopped and the door’s lock clicked open again.
“Perfect,” Zella said, admiring Nix’s work. “Let’s go.”
As Zella, Nix and Liza wove their way through the smooth, gray halls of the stadium’s interior, Zella took deep breaths to calm her anxiety. There was so much at stake. Sure, she’d been a world champion several times over, but the Olympics was a different thing altogether. Earning a cobalt medal at the centuries-old games, could mean lucrative sponsorships, projector broadcasts around the world, becoming a household name. 2084 was only the third year that body decathlon was recognized as an official olympic event, so there wasn’t much precedent to look to for clues about what today’s competition might be like.
Zella was one of the last to arrive at the track. Most of the other athletes were already warming up their competition bodies. Zella scanned the crowd until she locked eyes with Ji Yoon Kim. She instantly recognized the intimidating scowl that the United Korean Peninsula athlete chose for her competition body’s face. The grimace had become something of a calling card and Zella had seen Ji Yoon’s fans wearing caricatures of it on t-shirts.
Ji Yoon and Zella had been neck and neck in the standings for the last two years, alternating first and second place at other world-class body decathlons. Winning the olympic cobalt would solidify one of them as the reigning champion. Zella had sighed with relief when she found out she’d beat Ji Yoon at the time trials yesterday, although it was only by half a second.
Ji Yoon shot Zella a nod of recognition, then went back to bending straight down over her competitive body’s long, muscular legs. Zella noticed that she’d chosen to fill out her body’s shoulders a tiny bit since yesterday. Smart move. She’d seen Ji Yoon lagging a bit during the boulder carry at time trials.
The announcer’s voice sounded through the stadium ordering the athletes to take their places at the starting gates. Cheers roared around the building. Zella scanned the stands looking for Americanadian flags. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed since the civil war, that the Americanadian team could sit right next to the Dixieland team with no violence.
She spotted her family sitting in the front row of the balcony, decked-out in maple leaves and stripes. She caught her wife, Charelle’s eye and blew her a kiss. Her sister, Malya and twelve-year-old nephew, Kit waved excitedly, their faces painted red white and blue. Zella beamed, she knew it’d been difficult for her sister and nephew to travel and she was so grateful to see them there.
Zella took a deep, calming breath as she pushed her feet up against the starting blocks. The organizers had placed her and Ji Yoon beside each other in the center of the track. Zella willed herself not to peek over at her rival
“On your marks,” spoke the announcer through the speakers.
“Get set.” Zella tucked her chin.
“Go!”
Zella breezed through the 200-meter dash, Ji Yoon right beside her. The two of them pulled slightly ahead of the rest of the pack. They worked the sinewy legs of their competition bodies until they reached a sprinting speed of almost thirty miles an hour. They passed the 200-meter finish line and kept sprinting down the track towards the climbing wall. Zella saw Liza waiting with the harness ready.
“You’re doing great,” Liza whispered as she fastened Zella’s buckles. “Remember, clear mind, think only about the competition at hand.”
Zella nodded and hooked her foot into the first rung of the 50-foot wall climb. She pushed up on her competition body’s strong feet and began to ascend. The long, slender fingers Nix built for her were stretching perfectly to reach the holds in the rock. Much better than yesterday. Zella silently celebrated her smart decision as she looked down and saw Ji Yoon climbing ten feet below her.
She focused on the wall, pushing her competition body to move up the rocks as quickly as possible. Zella executed movements she’d never dream of achieving in her natural 45-year-old woman’s body. The proliferation of body swapping sports had been a gift for older athletes and female athletes like Zella. Suddenly, she could compete in a situation where her athletic intelligence was the most important factor, as opposed to her body’s physical traits.
CRISPR, the technology that supported body-swapping sports, had matured in the late 2030s, but it hadn’t been used for recreation until the last decade. When it was first developed, the changes CRISPR made to human DNA were unpredictable. A CRISPR mutation that was meant to cure Multiple Sclerosis left the patient with limb paralysis. A treatment for blindness also caused seizures. Not only were these changes permanent and irreversible, scientists were shocked to find that the mutations lived on into the children of these patients and into the next generation as well.
After some time, CRISPR technology became more precise, but the process was still prohibitively expensive. For the next two decades it was reserved for curing debilitating diseases. Of course there were debates over the ethics of using CRISPR to make yourself taller or more attractive, but these were mostly theoretical. The long-term side effects were still unknown, so people were wary of using it to give themselves bigger breasts or bluer eyes.
In the 2070s, however, a breakthrough made the CRISPR process much faster and more affordable, but the DNA changes made using this method wore off after six hours. The impermanent results almost made this technique even more exciting. A revolution in body experimentation began.
People harnessed the technology for sexual adventures and movie stunts. It was used to help the elderly regain mobility. CRISPR salons sprung up where customers could alter their appearances before a night out on the town. It became illegal to seduce another person in a CRISPR body without disclosure.
The technology was life-changing for the trans and gender-fluid community. Suddenly, trans people could experience life within the exact bodies they were meant to have. This was how Zella’s body designer, Nix, began their career. Every morning and afternoon, Nix stepped into the CRISPR chamber and came out in their androgynous body, expertly fine-tuned after years of tweaks to its programming. Zella knew that it must break their heart to have the changes wear off overnight.
People quickly discovered CRISPR’s profound implications for sports. Most major leagues banned the technology, but side leagues popped up almost immediately. Spectators were fascinated to see what a body perfectly designed for basketball could achieve on the court. And sports like the body decathlon were invented to test the overall limits of the human body.
.
Zella caught a glimpse of her competition face’s triumphant grin on the stadium’s huge projection screen as she rang the bell at the top of the climbing wall. She was comfortably in the lead now, but she chided herself for the display of arrogance as she repelled down. There were still three other events in today’s race - this wasn’t the time to become complacent.
“Great work,” said Liza as she unclipped Zella’s harness. “Keep it steady on the uneven bars. Remember, elbows straight on the spin. You got this.”
Zella nodded with gratitude. She would never stop being impressed by Liza’s versatility as a coach. Like most other elite body decathletes, Zella worked with specialized coaches for each event. It was crucial to have a head coach like Liza who could pull all the events together. Event coaches always pushed the body designer for tweaks that benefited their own sport. The 200-meter dash coach wants long legs, the boulder carry coach wants bulky arms. Liza was well-versed enough that she knew which adjustments would be detrimental to other events. It was Liza’s direction that led Nix to fine-tune Zella’s competition body to work well for everything.
Zella took a deep breath as she chalked her hands for the uneven bar routine. Of all the events, this one challenged her the most. Each athlete had to complete a pre-set gymnastics routine under a referee's watchful eye. There were no extra points given for perfect form, but certain mistakes could mean disqualification. In every body decathlon, several athletes were usually removed due to a missed catch or a single flip instead of a double. Zella spent months practicing the uneven bars with an olympic gymnast’s physique, barely coming close to completing a successful routine. Her own body was nowhere near flexible enough to execute any of the stunts, so it felt unnatural to trust that her competition body would bend that way.
Zella hopped up to grab the high bar, swung up into a handstand and leapt into her first catch on the low bar. It was going well today. The trick felt good, as natural as walking down the street.
Now for the combination. This was always the toughest to execute. The competition body needed long limbs for climbing and running. These weren’t ideal for gymnastics. Zella had suffered a few embarrassing early-career disqualifications for awkwardly whacking her foot against the bar.
She swung into a pike position, bending her legs up towards her face until the tops of her thighs made contact with the bar. For a moment, she panicked that she might lose her balance, but no, just as she’d done a thousand times in practice, she executed a graceful leap to catch the high bar again. Relief washed over Zella as she completed the final spin around the high bar into a perfect double backflip dismount. The worst was over.
Zella was still in first place, with Ji Yoon on her tail. The Australian, Japanese and South American Republic athletes were close behind. They rounded the track to take their seats at the sewing table. The roar of the crowd always hushed to a whisper at this part of the competition. Fans collectively held their breath to watch close-ups of the athletes’ fingers on the projection screen.
Zella completed her first of twenty stitches, right through the middle of the guideline. It had taken her years to learn how to keep her hands from shaking after the demands of the wall climb and the uneven bars.
As Zella sewed, the long fingers that had been such a boon during the wall climb were feeling more and more like a bad decision. Zella and Ji Yoon were seated next to each other, so she could see that her foe was already completing her tenth stitch, while she had only finished four.
A thunderous gasp rang through the stadium. Zella couldn’t help but look up from her work to catch a glance at the projection screen. She saw a close-up of the Australian athlete’s needle popping through the fabric, ever-so-slightly outside the guideline. This meant instant disqualification. Zella’s heart sank with pity, she’d met the Australian athlete last month at the world championships and liked her.
She narrowed her eyes to focus on her own sewing, She could not afford a similar mistake. Ji Yoon was nearly at the end of the guideline now, how was she going so fast? Zella silently cursed herself for her last-minute choice to lengthen her body’s fingers.
Ji Yoon held her completed stitches over her head triumphantly and raced towards the final event. Zella still had four stitches to go. Finally, after what felt like eons, Zella’s needle made its twentieth stitch. She threw the fabric aside and launched herself up from the table.
The body decathlon’s final event was the boulder carry. Ten rocks of increasing weight had to be moved from one basket to another ten feet away. Most athletes went from lightest to heaviest, but Zella preferred to move the heaviest boulder in the middle to avoid getting too fatigued to lift it.
Ji Yoon was already on her third boulder by the time she arrived, so Zella worked quickly to catch up. She had to resist working too quickly, however, as she knew that any injury made to her competition body would show up on her own body as well.
As Zella heaved the heaviest boulder into the second basket, she saw that Ji Yoon was nearly done, with only two boulders left. Of course, Ji Yoon still had her heaviest boulder to go, while Zella had already taken care of hers. It was hard to tell who was in the lead.
Zella passed Ji Yoon carrying her next boulder, but she still had two more left, while Ji Yoon only had one. The fans in the crowd were all on their feet cheering now. Zella raced back to grab her last boulder. Her rival was almost finished. She’d nearly caught up just as Ji Yoon was tipping her last boulder into the basket. The buzzer sounded. Ji Yoon had finished the day’s events 0.7 seconds ahead of her.
Zella hung her head with disappointment. She remembered that the projection cameras were focused on her, so she tried to remain stoic.
Liza appeared by her side and patted her on the shoulder.
“It’s OK, Zel,” she said. “It’s not over yet. There’s still tomorrow.”
—--------------------------
The next morning, the sun was just beginning to rise as Zella and Liza walked through the belly of the stadium to meet Nix at the Americanadian CRISPR chamber.
Nix had already received the olympic committee’s instructions to program today’s body and they were hunched over the machine, entering commands into the control panel. Yesterday, the athletes competed in their own unique competition bodies, but today they would all compete using the same randomly-assigned body. This posed a different test of athletic intelligence; how well could each athlete adapt to a less-than-ideal physique?
To prepare her for this part of the competition, Zella’s training regimen alternated bodies each day. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, she practiced in her ideal competition body. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Nix threw her whatever challenge he could think of - seven-foot-tall bodies, three-foot-tall bodies, toddlers, 75-year-olds, amputees, cancer patients with painful tumors that inhibited her movements, 300-pound bodies, 75-pound bodies - you name it.
The only limits set by the Body Decathlon Federation were that the bodies had to exist within the genetic limits of humanity and they had to theoretically be able to complete the competition. Infants and bodies with extremely low mobility were a no-go.
Zella and Liza waited for Nix to complete the programming instructions, rocking from foot to foot with anticipation. Nix was taking longer than usual today.
“You okay Nix?” asked Liza.
They furrowed their brow. “Um… yep. Almost done, I think.”
“We’ve got lots of time, so don’t rush.” Liza assured them.
“Mhm,” they grunted, running their hands over their chin-length hair nervously as they squinted at the control panel. This confusion was uncharacteristic of Nix. Zella had been working with them for nearly five years and she’d never seen anything phase them.
“Okay. Ready.” Nix finally said and pressed the button that opened the chamber’s door.
Zella entered, the machinery whirred and she felt the tingling rush throughout her body. After twenty minutes, the door clicked open and she stepped out into the room.
Liza and Nix took Zella’s new body in. “A ten-year-old boy?” Liza said, dumbfounded.
Zella looked down and patted her new hands up and down her new body’s smooth chest. “Really? So easy.”
Four years ago, the day-two body at the Olympics had been a fifty-year-old woman with severe scoliosis. Zella was expecting something more challenging. Sure, children’s lack of fine motor control made sewing more difficult and the boulders would be challenging, but overall, a ten-year-old’s body would be a cinch.
Liza shrugged. “If that’s what the instructions said, I’m not going to argue. Let’s go to the field.”
The team moved towards the doorway. Nix drew in their breath as if they wanted to say something. Liza and Zella whirled around.
“What is it, Nix?” Zella asked.
“Um… it’s just... “ Nix looked conflicted. Their eyes darted back and forth between Zella and Liza. “Never mind.”
“If you made a mistake programming the body, now is the time to say so. We can still go back and fix it.” Liza said sternly.
“No, it’s not that at all,” they promised. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
Liza rolled her eyes and the three of them began to walk briskly towards the track.
Zella’s team arrived at the starting gates. Now, the only visual difference between the athletes were the flags on their uniforms. Zella always thought it strange that she was a world-famous athlete, but her fans never saw her real face when she competed. Zella saw that most of the other athletes and coaches wore the same bewildered expression at the assignment of the ten-year-old’s body.
Again, the announcer called the athletes to take their places. Zella and Ji Yoon nodded their identical faces towards each other as they lined up at their blocks.
“On your marks…” the announcer called. “Get set… Go!”
The athletes launched into the 200-meter dash. Zella felt her heart rate speed up as she ran. It was more intense than usual, like her heart was about to leap up into her throat. She compensated by taking bigger, gulping breaths into her diaphragm.
Although the body’s heart was racing, its other muscles felt slower than they should, as if she was trying to run under water. She was at the front of the pack, but she didn’t feel like she was performing at her peak. Ji Yoon raced just behind her, also gasping for air.
As Zella and Ji Yoon crossed the 200-meter finish line, a loud gasp resounded around the stadium. Zella glanced backwards to see that the Japanese athlete had tripped and fallen mid-race. Falls during the uneven bars were common, but a fall during the sprint was unheard of. Something about today’s body was not as it seemed.
“Keep your head in the game,” Liza reminded Zella as she fastened her climbing harness.
Zella began scaling the wall. She made what should have been an easy reach for a hold above her head, but found that her hand missed its target. Her legs refused to push straight up off the footholds. She began to take smaller steps, using rungs that were close together. Her heart continued to pound as she climbed. She wondered if Nix had made a mistake in the programming. But if that were true, all the other athletes would be ahead of her by now and she was still leading the pack by a hair.
After several agonizing minutes of struggle, Zella rang the bell at the top of the wall. She looked up at her family in the stands and saw her nephew, Kit staring down at her, his eyes wide with shock.
The moment she locked eyes with Kit, she knew.
Her mind flashed back over memories of anxious, late-night phone calls with her sister, Malya. The hours they’d spent poring over clinical test reports, trying to decipher the doctors’ notes on Kit’s condition. CRISPR treatments had improved his prognosis, but they couldn’t cure him entirely. He still lived with the unique challenge of having a neuromuscular disability that was invisible at first glance. Malya worried he’d be bullied on the playground for his clumsiness. People were always confused as to why he couldn’t do the same physical activities as his classmates.
Zella realized that today’s competition body must be burdened with a neuromuscular disease similar to Kit’s. As she repelled down the wall, she mulled over what to do with this information. She guessed that most of the other contestants hadn’t caught on yet and would continue to use the body as if it were a typical ten-year-old’s. She could use this to her advantage.
“Something seems off today, but keep pushing,” Liza said as she unfastened Zella’s harness. Ji Yoon had also just made it down the wall, so they were tied for first.
“I got this.” Zella nodded confidently and jogged away from the climbing wall towards the next event.
The gymnastics event at day two of the body decathlon took place on a balance beam instead of the uneven bars. The upper-body strength required to complete the uneven bar routine was too difficult for most bodies. Still, Zella knew she’d have to be cautious.
She clenched her muscles and pushed herself up onto the beam. Pausing for a moment, she considered how she might complete the first spin. She decided to copy a technique she’d seen Kit use on the playground. She took a deep breath in and focused her eyes on a spot in front of her before attempting the trick. Slowly and carefully, Zella executed the move. Success. Only two more moves to go.
She rose to her feet and lifted her arms over her head. Now for the split jump. Remembering that there were no points given for perfect form, Zella completed the smallest amount of movement allowed. Even then, she had to strain against the cramps in her legs and she wobbled as she landed on the beam.
All around her, other athletes were falling off their beams and disqualifying themselves. Beside her, Ji Yoon wind-milled her arms, nearly losing her balance after the leap.
Last was the cartwheel dismount. She recalled the summer when Kit first received his diagnosis. One of the early clues that something in his body was amiss was that his elbows kept giving out when he attempted a cartwheel. Zella copied the form she’d seen him use with bent arms. She sank low to absorb the shock in her legs as she landed.
Suddenly, the crowd let out a loud “ooh!” The projection screen showed an instant replay of the French athlete painfully smacking their shoulder as he failed his dismount.
Only five athletes remained in the competition when Zella sat down at the sewing tables. She knew she’d have to be extremely cautious to avoid disqualification.
She picked up her needle and thread. It took six tries today to thread the needle because her hand kept slipping and missing the hole. Slowly, painstakingly, she made the first stitch, then another. She moved at a snail’s pace, watching as other athletes attempted to rush through and were disqualified. Ji Yoon seemed to sense that slow and steady was the best bet as well and she crept along with Zella. By the time they finished their twenty stitches, nearly thirty minutes later, the two rivals were the only athletes left in the competition.
Zella put down her sewing and jogged with dread towards the boulder carry. How would she ever complete it? The day-two boulders were lighter than yesterday’s, but it would still be an inconceivable challenge.
Zella mulled over the problem. Maybe rolling the boulders would be easier. There were no rules against rolling, but this would use up so much extra time. It was a risky move, but it would pay off immensely if she managed to preserve her strength and Ji Yoon tapped out early. Zella heard the crowd muttering with confusion as she began to roll the smallest boulder.
By the time her first boulder was in the basket, Ji Yoon was already way ahead of her, carrying her third. Zella began to worry that she’d guessed wrong.
She snapped back to attention and scolded herself for focusing on Ji Yoon. There was no point in looking at what her competitor was doing. She’d decided on her strategy and she would stick with it.
By the time Zella had moved her third boulder, things were looking as though they might take a turn. Ji Yoon was working on her fifth boulder and struggling miserably. For the sixth, she began to copy Zella’s method of rolling them. Zella managed to catch up and the two athletes rolled their sixth boulders into their baskets at exactly the same time.
Zella decided that now was the time to try the heaviest boulder. She knew she’d have to save some strength for the end. She heaved against the rock with all her might and it barely moved an inch. Ji Yoon passed her with the seventh-heaviest boulder. Little by little, she rolled it across the field.
When Zella finally tipped the heaviest boulder into the basket, Ji Yoon was working on her ninth boulder, struggling against its weight. Her competitor stopped mid-field, her hands on her thighs, painting with exhaustion and Zella caught up. Both athletes tipped their ninth boulders into the basket at the same time. They were tied again with one more rock to go, although Ji Yoon still had her heaviest. Both athletes trudged back to the first basket.
Ji Yoon braced her body against the boulder. It didn’t budge. She’d used up all her strength and couldn’t push any longer. Zella realized that the cobalt medal was hers, just as long as she could move the last boulder. Her body was so sore by now, it felt like her arms and legs might fall out of their sockets. She stretched the fingers of her hands in the same way she’d seen Kit do it. She steeled herself and began to move the last rock.
It took all her might, every last ounce of strength she had to roll it across the floor. She passed Ji Yoon and saw tears running down her competitor’s face as she tried in vain to catch up. Zella heaved and heaved, taking breaks to breath and stretch out her fingers. She worried that Ji Yoon might regain her strength at any minute.
In the stands, the Americanadian fans were on their feet, fervently waving their flags and cheering. She saw Kit yelling, “Go! Go!” She knew she had to win this for him. If she could do this, it would help prove that he could live any kind of life he wanted. Determined, she made the final heave and the boulder landed in the basket. Zella collapsed on the ground, exhausted but elated. She’d won.
Liza and Nix rushed onto the field to join her. They lifted her up with her arms around their shoulders and helped her walk to the first-place podium. Someone brought out a cobalt medal and hung it around her neck.
“I wanted to tell you!” Nix whispered breathlessly in her ear as she waved to the cameras. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but I knew it was against the rules.”
“I know,” Zella nodded. “I figured it out, I guess.”
Nix and Liza raised Zella’s exhausted arms over her head in triumph. Ji Yoon nodded at her respectfully. She would take home the silver for advancing the farthest of any other competitors.
Zella’s family made their way down from the stands and joined her on the field. Her wife embraced her and kissed her deeply. She knelt down to meet Kit’s eye and the two looked at each other knowingly for a long time.
“I’m proud of you, Auntie,” Kit said.
“I’m proud of you,” said Zella and she pulled him in for a hug.
As usual, the tingling subsided as soon as Zella stepped out of the chamber. She looked down over her new body - well by now, she’d spent so much time in this body, pushing it to its physical limits, the lines were starting to blur between this body and her own. She studied her hands.
“You know what,” she said carefully. “Let’s do the longer fingers.”
“You sure?” asked Nix. “These are the ones I gave you for the time trials yesterday.”
“Yep. I was thinking about it last night. They didn't feel quite right.”
Zella turned on her heels and clicked the door to the chamber open again.
“Zel, this isn’t the time to play around,” her coach, Liza, said sternly from over Nix’s shoulder. “Your career is on the line.”
“I’m sure.” Zella said confidently as she lay down on the chamber’s smooth white bench. “Change the fingers.”
Nix tapped on the projection display in front of him and the chamber’s machinery whirred. Zella felt the familiar pins and needles, but only in her fingers this time. Finally, the whirring stopped and the door’s lock clicked open again.
“Perfect,” Zella said, admiring Nix’s work. “Let’s go.”
As Zella, Nix and Liza wove their way through the smooth, gray halls of the stadium’s interior, Zella took deep breaths to calm her anxiety. There was so much at stake. Sure, she’d been a world champion several times over, but the Olympics was a different thing altogether. Earning a cobalt medal at the centuries-old games, could mean lucrative sponsorships, projector broadcasts around the world, becoming a household name. 2084 was only the third year that body decathlon was recognized as an official olympic event, so there wasn’t much precedent to look to for clues about what today’s competition might be like.
Zella was one of the last to arrive at the track. Most of the other athletes were already warming up their competition bodies. Zella scanned the crowd until she locked eyes with Ji Yoon Kim. She instantly recognized the intimidating scowl that the United Korean Peninsula athlete chose for her competition body’s face. The grimace had become something of a calling card and Zella had seen Ji Yoon’s fans wearing caricatures of it on t-shirts.
Ji Yoon and Zella had been neck and neck in the standings for the last two years, alternating first and second place at other world-class body decathlons. Winning the olympic cobalt would solidify one of them as the reigning champion. Zella had sighed with relief when she found out she’d beat Ji Yoon at the time trials yesterday, although it was only by half a second.
Ji Yoon shot Zella a nod of recognition, then went back to bending straight down over her competitive body’s long, muscular legs. Zella noticed that she’d chosen to fill out her body’s shoulders a tiny bit since yesterday. Smart move. She’d seen Ji Yoon lagging a bit during the boulder carry at time trials.
The announcer’s voice sounded through the stadium ordering the athletes to take their places at the starting gates. Cheers roared around the building. Zella scanned the stands looking for Americanadian flags. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed since the civil war, that the Americanadian team could sit right next to the Dixieland team with no violence.
She spotted her family sitting in the front row of the balcony, decked-out in maple leaves and stripes. She caught her wife, Charelle’s eye and blew her a kiss. Her sister, Malya and twelve-year-old nephew, Kit waved excitedly, their faces painted red white and blue. Zella beamed, she knew it’d been difficult for her sister and nephew to travel and she was so grateful to see them there.
Zella took a deep, calming breath as she pushed her feet up against the starting blocks. The organizers had placed her and Ji Yoon beside each other in the center of the track. Zella willed herself not to peek over at her rival
“On your marks,” spoke the announcer through the speakers.
“Get set.” Zella tucked her chin.
“Go!”
Zella breezed through the 200-meter dash, Ji Yoon right beside her. The two of them pulled slightly ahead of the rest of the pack. They worked the sinewy legs of their competition bodies until they reached a sprinting speed of almost thirty miles an hour. They passed the 200-meter finish line and kept sprinting down the track towards the climbing wall. Zella saw Liza waiting with the harness ready.
“You’re doing great,” Liza whispered as she fastened Zella’s buckles. “Remember, clear mind, think only about the competition at hand.”
Zella nodded and hooked her foot into the first rung of the 50-foot wall climb. She pushed up on her competition body’s strong feet and began to ascend. The long, slender fingers Nix built for her were stretching perfectly to reach the holds in the rock. Much better than yesterday. Zella silently celebrated her smart decision as she looked down and saw Ji Yoon climbing ten feet below her.
She focused on the wall, pushing her competition body to move up the rocks as quickly as possible. Zella executed movements she’d never dream of achieving in her natural 45-year-old woman’s body. The proliferation of body swapping sports had been a gift for older athletes and female athletes like Zella. Suddenly, she could compete in a situation where her athletic intelligence was the most important factor, as opposed to her body’s physical traits.
CRISPR, the technology that supported body-swapping sports, had matured in the late 2030s, but it hadn’t been used for recreation until the last decade. When it was first developed, the changes CRISPR made to human DNA were unpredictable. A CRISPR mutation that was meant to cure Multiple Sclerosis left the patient with limb paralysis. A treatment for blindness also caused seizures. Not only were these changes permanent and irreversible, scientists were shocked to find that the mutations lived on into the children of these patients and into the next generation as well.
After some time, CRISPR technology became more precise, but the process was still prohibitively expensive. For the next two decades it was reserved for curing debilitating diseases. Of course there were debates over the ethics of using CRISPR to make yourself taller or more attractive, but these were mostly theoretical. The long-term side effects were still unknown, so people were wary of using it to give themselves bigger breasts or bluer eyes.
In the 2070s, however, a breakthrough made the CRISPR process much faster and more affordable, but the DNA changes made using this method wore off after six hours. The impermanent results almost made this technique even more exciting. A revolution in body experimentation began.
People harnessed the technology for sexual adventures and movie stunts. It was used to help the elderly regain mobility. CRISPR salons sprung up where customers could alter their appearances before a night out on the town. It became illegal to seduce another person in a CRISPR body without disclosure.
The technology was life-changing for the trans and gender-fluid community. Suddenly, trans people could experience life within the exact bodies they were meant to have. This was how Zella’s body designer, Nix, began their career. Every morning and afternoon, Nix stepped into the CRISPR chamber and came out in their androgynous body, expertly fine-tuned after years of tweaks to its programming. Zella knew that it must break their heart to have the changes wear off overnight.
People quickly discovered CRISPR’s profound implications for sports. Most major leagues banned the technology, but side leagues popped up almost immediately. Spectators were fascinated to see what a body perfectly designed for basketball could achieve on the court. And sports like the body decathlon were invented to test the overall limits of the human body.
.
Zella caught a glimpse of her competition face’s triumphant grin on the stadium’s huge projection screen as she rang the bell at the top of the climbing wall. She was comfortably in the lead now, but she chided herself for the display of arrogance as she repelled down. There were still three other events in today’s race - this wasn’t the time to become complacent.
“Great work,” said Liza as she unclipped Zella’s harness. “Keep it steady on the uneven bars. Remember, elbows straight on the spin. You got this.”
Zella nodded with gratitude. She would never stop being impressed by Liza’s versatility as a coach. Like most other elite body decathletes, Zella worked with specialized coaches for each event. It was crucial to have a head coach like Liza who could pull all the events together. Event coaches always pushed the body designer for tweaks that benefited their own sport. The 200-meter dash coach wants long legs, the boulder carry coach wants bulky arms. Liza was well-versed enough that she knew which adjustments would be detrimental to other events. It was Liza’s direction that led Nix to fine-tune Zella’s competition body to work well for everything.
Zella took a deep breath as she chalked her hands for the uneven bar routine. Of all the events, this one challenged her the most. Each athlete had to complete a pre-set gymnastics routine under a referee's watchful eye. There were no extra points given for perfect form, but certain mistakes could mean disqualification. In every body decathlon, several athletes were usually removed due to a missed catch or a single flip instead of a double. Zella spent months practicing the uneven bars with an olympic gymnast’s physique, barely coming close to completing a successful routine. Her own body was nowhere near flexible enough to execute any of the stunts, so it felt unnatural to trust that her competition body would bend that way.
Zella hopped up to grab the high bar, swung up into a handstand and leapt into her first catch on the low bar. It was going well today. The trick felt good, as natural as walking down the street.
Now for the combination. This was always the toughest to execute. The competition body needed long limbs for climbing and running. These weren’t ideal for gymnastics. Zella had suffered a few embarrassing early-career disqualifications for awkwardly whacking her foot against the bar.
She swung into a pike position, bending her legs up towards her face until the tops of her thighs made contact with the bar. For a moment, she panicked that she might lose her balance, but no, just as she’d done a thousand times in practice, she executed a graceful leap to catch the high bar again. Relief washed over Zella as she completed the final spin around the high bar into a perfect double backflip dismount. The worst was over.
Zella was still in first place, with Ji Yoon on her tail. The Australian, Japanese and South American Republic athletes were close behind. They rounded the track to take their seats at the sewing table. The roar of the crowd always hushed to a whisper at this part of the competition. Fans collectively held their breath to watch close-ups of the athletes’ fingers on the projection screen.
Zella completed her first of twenty stitches, right through the middle of the guideline. It had taken her years to learn how to keep her hands from shaking after the demands of the wall climb and the uneven bars.
As Zella sewed, the long fingers that had been such a boon during the wall climb were feeling more and more like a bad decision. Zella and Ji Yoon were seated next to each other, so she could see that her foe was already completing her tenth stitch, while she had only finished four.
A thunderous gasp rang through the stadium. Zella couldn’t help but look up from her work to catch a glance at the projection screen. She saw a close-up of the Australian athlete’s needle popping through the fabric, ever-so-slightly outside the guideline. This meant instant disqualification. Zella’s heart sank with pity, she’d met the Australian athlete last month at the world championships and liked her.
She narrowed her eyes to focus on her own sewing, She could not afford a similar mistake. Ji Yoon was nearly at the end of the guideline now, how was she going so fast? Zella silently cursed herself for her last-minute choice to lengthen her body’s fingers.
Ji Yoon held her completed stitches over her head triumphantly and raced towards the final event. Zella still had four stitches to go. Finally, after what felt like eons, Zella’s needle made its twentieth stitch. She threw the fabric aside and launched herself up from the table.
The body decathlon’s final event was the boulder carry. Ten rocks of increasing weight had to be moved from one basket to another ten feet away. Most athletes went from lightest to heaviest, but Zella preferred to move the heaviest boulder in the middle to avoid getting too fatigued to lift it.
Ji Yoon was already on her third boulder by the time she arrived, so Zella worked quickly to catch up. She had to resist working too quickly, however, as she knew that any injury made to her competition body would show up on her own body as well.
As Zella heaved the heaviest boulder into the second basket, she saw that Ji Yoon was nearly done, with only two boulders left. Of course, Ji Yoon still had her heaviest boulder to go, while Zella had already taken care of hers. It was hard to tell who was in the lead.
Zella passed Ji Yoon carrying her next boulder, but she still had two more left, while Ji Yoon only had one. The fans in the crowd were all on their feet cheering now. Zella raced back to grab her last boulder. Her rival was almost finished. She’d nearly caught up just as Ji Yoon was tipping her last boulder into the basket. The buzzer sounded. Ji Yoon had finished the day’s events 0.7 seconds ahead of her.
Zella hung her head with disappointment. She remembered that the projection cameras were focused on her, so she tried to remain stoic.
Liza appeared by her side and patted her on the shoulder.
“It’s OK, Zel,” she said. “It’s not over yet. There’s still tomorrow.”
—--------------------------
The next morning, the sun was just beginning to rise as Zella and Liza walked through the belly of the stadium to meet Nix at the Americanadian CRISPR chamber.
Nix had already received the olympic committee’s instructions to program today’s body and they were hunched over the machine, entering commands into the control panel. Yesterday, the athletes competed in their own unique competition bodies, but today they would all compete using the same randomly-assigned body. This posed a different test of athletic intelligence; how well could each athlete adapt to a less-than-ideal physique?
To prepare her for this part of the competition, Zella’s training regimen alternated bodies each day. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, she practiced in her ideal competition body. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Nix threw her whatever challenge he could think of - seven-foot-tall bodies, three-foot-tall bodies, toddlers, 75-year-olds, amputees, cancer patients with painful tumors that inhibited her movements, 300-pound bodies, 75-pound bodies - you name it.
The only limits set by the Body Decathlon Federation were that the bodies had to exist within the genetic limits of humanity and they had to theoretically be able to complete the competition. Infants and bodies with extremely low mobility were a no-go.
Zella and Liza waited for Nix to complete the programming instructions, rocking from foot to foot with anticipation. Nix was taking longer than usual today.
“You okay Nix?” asked Liza.
They furrowed their brow. “Um… yep. Almost done, I think.”
“We’ve got lots of time, so don’t rush.” Liza assured them.
“Mhm,” they grunted, running their hands over their chin-length hair nervously as they squinted at the control panel. This confusion was uncharacteristic of Nix. Zella had been working with them for nearly five years and she’d never seen anything phase them.
“Okay. Ready.” Nix finally said and pressed the button that opened the chamber’s door.
Zella entered, the machinery whirred and she felt the tingling rush throughout her body. After twenty minutes, the door clicked open and she stepped out into the room.
Liza and Nix took Zella’s new body in. “A ten-year-old boy?” Liza said, dumbfounded.
Zella looked down and patted her new hands up and down her new body’s smooth chest. “Really? So easy.”
Four years ago, the day-two body at the Olympics had been a fifty-year-old woman with severe scoliosis. Zella was expecting something more challenging. Sure, children’s lack of fine motor control made sewing more difficult and the boulders would be challenging, but overall, a ten-year-old’s body would be a cinch.
Liza shrugged. “If that’s what the instructions said, I’m not going to argue. Let’s go to the field.”
The team moved towards the doorway. Nix drew in their breath as if they wanted to say something. Liza and Zella whirled around.
“What is it, Nix?” Zella asked.
“Um… it’s just... “ Nix looked conflicted. Their eyes darted back and forth between Zella and Liza. “Never mind.”
“If you made a mistake programming the body, now is the time to say so. We can still go back and fix it.” Liza said sternly.
“No, it’s not that at all,” they promised. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
Liza rolled her eyes and the three of them began to walk briskly towards the track.
Zella’s team arrived at the starting gates. Now, the only visual difference between the athletes were the flags on their uniforms. Zella always thought it strange that she was a world-famous athlete, but her fans never saw her real face when she competed. Zella saw that most of the other athletes and coaches wore the same bewildered expression at the assignment of the ten-year-old’s body.
Again, the announcer called the athletes to take their places. Zella and Ji Yoon nodded their identical faces towards each other as they lined up at their blocks.
“On your marks…” the announcer called. “Get set… Go!”
The athletes launched into the 200-meter dash. Zella felt her heart rate speed up as she ran. It was more intense than usual, like her heart was about to leap up into her throat. She compensated by taking bigger, gulping breaths into her diaphragm.
Although the body’s heart was racing, its other muscles felt slower than they should, as if she was trying to run under water. She was at the front of the pack, but she didn’t feel like she was performing at her peak. Ji Yoon raced just behind her, also gasping for air.
As Zella and Ji Yoon crossed the 200-meter finish line, a loud gasp resounded around the stadium. Zella glanced backwards to see that the Japanese athlete had tripped and fallen mid-race. Falls during the uneven bars were common, but a fall during the sprint was unheard of. Something about today’s body was not as it seemed.
“Keep your head in the game,” Liza reminded Zella as she fastened her climbing harness.
Zella began scaling the wall. She made what should have been an easy reach for a hold above her head, but found that her hand missed its target. Her legs refused to push straight up off the footholds. She began to take smaller steps, using rungs that were close together. Her heart continued to pound as she climbed. She wondered if Nix had made a mistake in the programming. But if that were true, all the other athletes would be ahead of her by now and she was still leading the pack by a hair.
After several agonizing minutes of struggle, Zella rang the bell at the top of the wall. She looked up at her family in the stands and saw her nephew, Kit staring down at her, his eyes wide with shock.
The moment she locked eyes with Kit, she knew.
Her mind flashed back over memories of anxious, late-night phone calls with her sister, Malya. The hours they’d spent poring over clinical test reports, trying to decipher the doctors’ notes on Kit’s condition. CRISPR treatments had improved his prognosis, but they couldn’t cure him entirely. He still lived with the unique challenge of having a neuromuscular disability that was invisible at first glance. Malya worried he’d be bullied on the playground for his clumsiness. People were always confused as to why he couldn’t do the same physical activities as his classmates.
Zella realized that today’s competition body must be burdened with a neuromuscular disease similar to Kit’s. As she repelled down the wall, she mulled over what to do with this information. She guessed that most of the other contestants hadn’t caught on yet and would continue to use the body as if it were a typical ten-year-old’s. She could use this to her advantage.
“Something seems off today, but keep pushing,” Liza said as she unfastened Zella’s harness. Ji Yoon had also just made it down the wall, so they were tied for first.
“I got this.” Zella nodded confidently and jogged away from the climbing wall towards the next event.
The gymnastics event at day two of the body decathlon took place on a balance beam instead of the uneven bars. The upper-body strength required to complete the uneven bar routine was too difficult for most bodies. Still, Zella knew she’d have to be cautious.
She clenched her muscles and pushed herself up onto the beam. Pausing for a moment, she considered how she might complete the first spin. She decided to copy a technique she’d seen Kit use on the playground. She took a deep breath in and focused her eyes on a spot in front of her before attempting the trick. Slowly and carefully, Zella executed the move. Success. Only two more moves to go.
She rose to her feet and lifted her arms over her head. Now for the split jump. Remembering that there were no points given for perfect form, Zella completed the smallest amount of movement allowed. Even then, she had to strain against the cramps in her legs and she wobbled as she landed on the beam.
All around her, other athletes were falling off their beams and disqualifying themselves. Beside her, Ji Yoon wind-milled her arms, nearly losing her balance after the leap.
Last was the cartwheel dismount. She recalled the summer when Kit first received his diagnosis. One of the early clues that something in his body was amiss was that his elbows kept giving out when he attempted a cartwheel. Zella copied the form she’d seen him use with bent arms. She sank low to absorb the shock in her legs as she landed.
Suddenly, the crowd let out a loud “ooh!” The projection screen showed an instant replay of the French athlete painfully smacking their shoulder as he failed his dismount.
Only five athletes remained in the competition when Zella sat down at the sewing tables. She knew she’d have to be extremely cautious to avoid disqualification.
She picked up her needle and thread. It took six tries today to thread the needle because her hand kept slipping and missing the hole. Slowly, painstakingly, she made the first stitch, then another. She moved at a snail’s pace, watching as other athletes attempted to rush through and were disqualified. Ji Yoon seemed to sense that slow and steady was the best bet as well and she crept along with Zella. By the time they finished their twenty stitches, nearly thirty minutes later, the two rivals were the only athletes left in the competition.
Zella put down her sewing and jogged with dread towards the boulder carry. How would she ever complete it? The day-two boulders were lighter than yesterday’s, but it would still be an inconceivable challenge.
Zella mulled over the problem. Maybe rolling the boulders would be easier. There were no rules against rolling, but this would use up so much extra time. It was a risky move, but it would pay off immensely if she managed to preserve her strength and Ji Yoon tapped out early. Zella heard the crowd muttering with confusion as she began to roll the smallest boulder.
By the time her first boulder was in the basket, Ji Yoon was already way ahead of her, carrying her third. Zella began to worry that she’d guessed wrong.
She snapped back to attention and scolded herself for focusing on Ji Yoon. There was no point in looking at what her competitor was doing. She’d decided on her strategy and she would stick with it.
By the time Zella had moved her third boulder, things were looking as though they might take a turn. Ji Yoon was working on her fifth boulder and struggling miserably. For the sixth, she began to copy Zella’s method of rolling them. Zella managed to catch up and the two athletes rolled their sixth boulders into their baskets at exactly the same time.
Zella decided that now was the time to try the heaviest boulder. She knew she’d have to save some strength for the end. She heaved against the rock with all her might and it barely moved an inch. Ji Yoon passed her with the seventh-heaviest boulder. Little by little, she rolled it across the field.
When Zella finally tipped the heaviest boulder into the basket, Ji Yoon was working on her ninth boulder, struggling against its weight. Her competitor stopped mid-field, her hands on her thighs, painting with exhaustion and Zella caught up. Both athletes tipped their ninth boulders into the basket at the same time. They were tied again with one more rock to go, although Ji Yoon still had her heaviest. Both athletes trudged back to the first basket.
Ji Yoon braced her body against the boulder. It didn’t budge. She’d used up all her strength and couldn’t push any longer. Zella realized that the cobalt medal was hers, just as long as she could move the last boulder. Her body was so sore by now, it felt like her arms and legs might fall out of their sockets. She stretched the fingers of her hands in the same way she’d seen Kit do it. She steeled herself and began to move the last rock.
It took all her might, every last ounce of strength she had to roll it across the floor. She passed Ji Yoon and saw tears running down her competitor’s face as she tried in vain to catch up. Zella heaved and heaved, taking breaks to breath and stretch out her fingers. She worried that Ji Yoon might regain her strength at any minute.
In the stands, the Americanadian fans were on their feet, fervently waving their flags and cheering. She saw Kit yelling, “Go! Go!” She knew she had to win this for him. If she could do this, it would help prove that he could live any kind of life he wanted. Determined, she made the final heave and the boulder landed in the basket. Zella collapsed on the ground, exhausted but elated. She’d won.
Liza and Nix rushed onto the field to join her. They lifted her up with her arms around their shoulders and helped her walk to the first-place podium. Someone brought out a cobalt medal and hung it around her neck.
“I wanted to tell you!” Nix whispered breathlessly in her ear as she waved to the cameras. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but I knew it was against the rules.”
“I know,” Zella nodded. “I figured it out, I guess.”
Nix and Liza raised Zella’s exhausted arms over her head in triumph. Ji Yoon nodded at her respectfully. She would take home the silver for advancing the farthest of any other competitors.
Zella’s family made their way down from the stands and joined her on the field. Her wife embraced her and kissed her deeply. She knelt down to meet Kit’s eye and the two looked at each other knowingly for a long time.
“I’m proud of you, Auntie,” Kit said.
“I’m proud of you,” said Zella and she pulled him in for a hug.
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Arthur Pendragon had a new queen.
Arthur Pendragon cursed, like, the 20th times today. He didn’t count, but he was sure that in this week the number of swears that came from his mouth was more than his last 25 years added together.How did it end up like this?One day, his master and advisor, Merlin, told him that he needed to go and perform a mission. It’s very normal, he had done dozens of missions with the accompany of the Knights of the Round Table. However, this time Merlin asked him to go alone. The target was Morgan le Fay, a powerful witch who held a dark secret about Britain's royal family. To keep the secret from falling to the wrong ears, King Arthur must do this mission by himself.After searching for a long time, Arthur found Morgan le Fay in a castle on a remote island. The witch revealed to him that she was Morgana Pendragon and the elder paternal half-sister of Arthur.Arthur: “Why did you do all this?”“WHY? You dare to ask me why? This is all your fault!”“I don’t understand.”“I’m the legitimate daughter of King Uther and Queen Vivienne! I’m the rightful heir. Not like you! You’re just a bastard, a shameful error of our father who lusted after the wife of his subordinate…”She clenched her fist”… But Merlin has made a prophecy that you and your descendant will lead Britain to a new era. And my father believed that damned old man. He locked me and my mother away, told others that we were dead. I managed to escape, but my mom… I swore that one day I would get back what’s rightful mine and became the ruler of Britain.”Arthur shook his head: “You can never be King.”“I know, but he can.” Morgana smiled wickedly, pointing at a mirror. The magic tool didn’t show her reflection, but a boy who was playing with a wooden sword.“Who is he?”“Oh, you don’t see the similarity, do you? This is the son…” she stopped a bit, before throwing out a piece of shocking news, “… of us.”“What the hell are you talking about?”“Poor brother, you haven’t realized it yet. Do you remember the day you marry Guinevere eight years ago? It’s not her who consummated the marriage with you – that’s me. I’m the woman who took your virginity. We had a wonderful night together,” she licked her lips, “and the seed you planted in me has sprouted.”Arthur was horrified: If Morgana was telling the truth, it meant he, though unwittingly, has committed incest.“No, I don’t believe you. When I woke up the next morning, Guinevere was sleeping next to me.”“After spending the night with her lover, Lancelot. That’s right, your wife cheated with your best friend, your right-hand man. Do you think why she hasn’t given you a child yet? She has to take the contraceptive herb for a long time, it renders her barren… Stupefy!”Morgana suddenly attacked with a spell, but the experience allowed Arthur to dodge in the nick of time. They fought a long battle. In the end, the young king was the victor. But in her dying breath, Morgana cast a barrier around the island. She cursed that no one could go in and out of the barrier unless Arthur declared her child as the successor of the throne of Camelot.Arthur panically ran outside, only to found that he was trapped inside an invisible dome. Not even his magic sword Excaliber could scratch it. He searched through out the castle, found nothing but the boy whom Morgana has named Mordred.Arthur wanted to kill Mordred, but the honor of a knight and a king forbid him to attack a defenseless child. He had no choice but to raise Mordred. He may have taken the boy grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still, he took the boy.Ten years have passed.Mordred grew up finely. Being concerned about the fact he killed his mother, Arthur never taught him about swordsmanship or magic. Instead, he let Mordred do the chores like cooking, cleaning, washing… In his teenage years before drawing out the sword in the stone, Arthur used to be a ward for Sir Kay, his older foster brother. Therefore, he had plenty of experience to share with Mordred. The student soon surpassed the master. By the time he turned 16, Mordred could be considered the best cooker and cleaner in entire England.On Mordred’s 18th birthday, Arthur went out to hunt while Mordred was cooking at home. When chasing after a rabbit, Arthur accidentally stumbled over a cave, which happened to be Morgana’s secret lair. He searched the cave, trying to find a spell that could dispel the barrier, but didn’t find any. Instead, he found several bottles of potion. Among them, a bottle labeled “X-Change Potion” attracted his attention.According to what he read, this potion would change the gender of the drinker. Morgana brewed it to make herself a prince but failed. The potion had no effect on women (she didn’t know that the potion was just a half-product. It altered the drinker’s DNA, removed the Y chromosome and doubled the X chromosome, thus changing men to women, but not vice-versa, since women had no Y chromosome, to begin with)A dark idea appeared in Arthur’s mind…-----------------------------------------------------------------------------When Arthur returned, his son greeted him: “Father, how is your hunting?”“Very good. I found this thing.” Arthur lifted a barrel. “This called wine, a drink for grown men. Since you turn adult today, we can have a feast together.”That night, the two held a birthday party. They spent the next thirty minutes or so sipping wine and reminiscing. But Mordred was getting tired and sleepy for some reason."Father, I'm sorry to interrupt our trip down memory lane, but I've got to take a nap.”"Are you feeling alright?", Arthur asked."Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sure all I need is a quick sleep. If you leave while I'm out, please don't forget to lock the door. And, don't drink all of my wine.""Don't worry. I'll be here when you wake up."Mordred wanted to say something more, but his eyelid suddenly felt so heavy…-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Mordred didn’t know how long he has slept. Only that when he awoke, he was cold and shivering."So, how was your nap? Did you sleep well?", his father asked with a strange look in his eyes."Yeah.", Mordred said with a yawn. "Wait. Hold on. What's wrong with my voice?""There's nothing wrong with your voice, Mordred. You sound the way a woman is supposed to sound." Arthur casually answered.Mordred eased himself up onto one elbow and looked down.And screamed.This was not his body!Instead of the broad chest and muscular pecs, he looked down and saw two round, ripe breasts; topped with pert brown nipples.His previously bulging arms were gone – replaced with slender, tanned arms. And between his legs?A pussy. A woman’s pussy, hairless and bare.Clambering to his unsteady feet, Mordred got out of the bed and stared at himself in the full-length mirror in the room.He was a woman!It was his eyes he was staring through; but in the mirror, it was a tanned, athletic woman staring back. A beautiful, sexy woman; with large, round breasts, a pretty, high-cheek-boned face, and a curtain of curly brown hair.“W-what’s going on?” Mordred’s face went red, as Arthur’s eyes hungrily fixed on his naked, feminine body.Arthur didn’t answer, but made a question instead: “Can you do me a favor?”“Of… of course, but I didn’t think this is the time…”“I’m gonna make a woman out of you,” he slowly approached, “and releasing the pen-up pressure I had to hold for ten years.”Mordred backed away.“Wh-what? That’s crazy.”Arthur grabbed his arm.“Oh, it’s not crazy,” he hissed. “It’s payback.”“P-payback?” Mordred struggled, but in his new female body, he found he was a lot weaker than he used to be. “Payback for what ?”Slap!Arthur’s hand left a stinging imprint on Mordred’s cheek.“For the sin of your mother!” he roared. “That filthy woman took everything from me! My throne! My army! My queen… I never thought I’d get my chance to get revenge for that.” And then he smiled evilly. “But now I realized I could...”Mordred’s eyes widened.“W-what are you going to do to me?”“What else?”He pulled Mordred, who was struggling to free from his grip, and shoved him towards the bed.“Get off me!” Mordred cried. “I’m a man!”“You don’t look much like a man to me,” Arthur shrugged. “And as long as you have tits and a tight pussy, it doesn’t bother me if you ‘think’ you’re a man.”Mordred looked into his eyes and saw steely determination“Please,” he desperately begged. “Don’t do this. I’m your son.” He struggled but was unable to escape. “You can’t do this to me!”“Oh, I can,” Arthur grinned. “And I will. This isn’t the first time I commit incest after all.”And Arthur told Mordred the whole story.The shock made Mordred lose his thinking ability. His arms went limp and his resistance stopped.“Aww, yeah,” Arthur grinned. “You’re ready.”------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A decade has passed, but Arthur didn’t forget how to handle a female. With his big, rough hands, he grabbed Mordred's heavy, round breasts and squeezed them roughly."Damn, these are some big titties."Mordred felt an involuntary tingle between his legs as Arthur squeezed and groped his breasts – a feeling of arousal he’d never experienced before, within the pussy he’d only had for the past hour or so.“Unnnngh,” the man inside the beautiful brunette groaned.Arthur let Mordred’s heavy breasts flop back down to his chest, and used his thumbs to gently rub Mordred's big, brown nipples.Mordred closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sensation of Arthur's rough fingers. His breath deepened. The unfamiliar nipples attached to his body responded; growing hard and aroused.And then Arthur's thick fingers slid between Mordred's thighs.Mordred gasped involuntarily, as Arthur's fingers slide inside his virginal pussy.Mordred had never felt anything like it – the touch of this big, strong man on it made him lick his lips eagerly.He squeezed shut his eyes. This beautiful, female body he was inhabiting was betraying him."Jesus," Arthur breathed hotly into Mordred’s ear. "The bitch is wet. How does it feel, Mordred?” She demanded. “How does it feel to have a man touching you?”But Mordred couldn’t say anything. He was ashamed. It felt good.“Ooooooh,” Mordred groaned. He felt a gush of wetness in his crotch."Told you," said Arthur, gripping Mordred’s big, heavy boobs in his rough fingers, "you’re gonna like it." He bent his head and pressed his mouth against Mordred’s.Mordred’s eyes shot open wide.Another man was kissing him.Fuck! This was wrong! This was gross! This was disgusting! This was…Actually, it wasn’t that bad.In fact, Mordred soon surrendered, opening his lips as Arthur forced his tongue inside Mordred’s mouth.Mordred felt dominated. Powerless. It was like his mouth was being raped – and he was liking it.He groaned into Arthur’s mouth.Mordred couldn't help it. With Arthur kneading his big, heavy breasts and sliding two fingers deep inside his new pussy, Mordred felt his defenses melt.He had a woman’s body. He was powerless except to respond as a woman would.Arthur's kisses were hard. Mordred couldn't believe how turned on he suddenly was. His whole body was aroused. His nipples were hard and throbbing. His pussy gushed moisture.“Unnnngh,” he groaned, twisting his own tongue over Arthur’s, like two snakes on Hermes’ staff.Eventually, with a sigh of disappointment, Mordred felt Arthur pull his lips away. He lied helplessly as Arthur rubbed his big, calloused hands over his round, feminine backside.Standing back, Arthur yanked down his pants, and an enormous erection sprang from it.Mordred gasped. Arthur’s cock was something which could be called King of Cocks - long, thick, throbbing, and veined.Arthur sneered, grabbing Mordred’s now tiny, feminine hand and bringing it to the throbbing black cock sprouting from his crotch. "Touch it."Mordred’s head reeled as he wrapped his little, girlish fingers around the thick shaft.Mordred cupped Arthur's heavy, egg-sized balls in one and the base of his massive erection in the other. He knew he should have been disgusted, but instead, he felt woozy; reveling in the sensation of hot, throbbing flesh in his hands.Arthur couldn’t hold his lust any longer. Spreading his partner’s legs as wide as he could, Arthur slowly pressed his swollen cock to the girl’s crotch."I'm gonna fuck you," Arthur hissed.Mordred’s face was full of terror. But the hard, fleshy knob of Arthur's cock was soon being pushed against Mordred’s moist pussy and, like a bitch in heat, he involuntarily pushed back. With a pop, the head of Arthur's dick slipped past the hymen and Mordred moaned as he felt the new and incredible sensation of being penetrated by another man’s cock.“Mmmmph!” Mordred mumbled, trying to not let out a scream of pain.“Oh, come on. Don’t look at me with such teary eyes. I promise the pain will be over soon. Shut up and enjoy.”And so did Mordred.Arthur's dick was long and thick, but Mordred’s wet, hungry pussy opened eagerly for every inch of it. Arthur was buried inside Mordred’s pussy, right to the hilt."That's fuckin' sexy," Arthur breathed. "Damn, I really miss this feeling."Poor Mordred shut his eyes, pretending he was in a dream - occupying a woman’s body that wasn’t his own, and the man he thought to be his father was raping him.But it was impossible to ignore the thick shaft ramming inside him or the throbbing sensation of his brand-new pussy.Arthur grabbed Mordred’s big, round bottom and started thrusting, his hips making a wet, slapping sound as they met with Mordred’s sweaty rump. Mordred was bounced back and forth, his heavy breasts swung too.Mordred was used to having a muscular body. In this woman’s body, it felt like every inch of his flesh was jiggling."Can you feel that?" Arthur demanded, suddenly realizing that Mordred’s wet pussy was quivering and gripping his big cock from within. "I think you’re gonna cum!"And Mordred did.His first-ever female orgasm gripped with pleasure radiated hotly from his crotch. The experience made all his previous pleasure seem pathetic by comparison. He finally got it. He finally realized the full, sexual majesty of being a woman."That's hot," Arthur felt Mordred groan, the pussy’s vibrations humming around his dick. "I'm cumming too..."Arthur’s dick shuddered and throbbed. Mordred felt his cock swell up deep inside his female pussy."Oh, God," he sobbed. "Not inside me..."But it was too late. Ramming himself up to the balls inside Mordred's wet little pussy, Arthur his dick spurted a thick load of sperm. It splattered inside Mordred’s uterus, like lava from a volcano’s eruption.And the sudden feeling of wetness and heat made Mordred shudder. He came again, wracked by shame and pleasure all at the same time.He was still shuddering as Arthur released him.Sweaty, sticky, and exhausted, Mordred slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. His glistening pussy looked red and raw; cum dribbling from it like a river.The whole locker room reeked of sex.Arthur enjoyed this shameful, guilty pleasure."Get dressed," He demanded, pulling on his own crumpled sweatpants. " you better clean yourself up, girl."Reluctantly, Mordred clambered to his feet. His knees felt weak. As he stood up, a warm dribble of Arthur's sperm ran hotly down his thighs.Arthur stroked Mordred’s feminine face.“That’s the right altitude,” Arthur grinned. “The man named Mordred doesn’t exist anymore. In fact, from now on, you’re a Mordena, the princess of a faraway country. You are kidnapped by Morgan le Fay the wicked witch, and I’m your savior. You have nothing to pay me back, so you offer your own body.”Mordred’s stomach churned.“Remember this story, in case we escape this trap and people begin to question about you.”Mordred felt sick.“One last reminder: you’re my concubine now. You’re my personal property.”And then Arthur winked at him.“And you should get used to being a woman from this point on, my princess.”-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Mordena rubbed her own belly. It was starting to show. If she straightened her back hard, then she could make her stomach flat again, but it was pointless to do so.After that fateful day, they made love days and nights like animals. Arthur always shot his semen deep inside her, claimed that there was no reason for him to pull out. It’s only a matter of time before she got pregnant, and they both knew it. Sometimes she caught herself staring at the mirror, looking at her facial features, trying to find any boyish trace left behind. But one day she suddenly realized the man named Mordred was gone forever. The reflection in the mirror was a strange woman, who had fertile hips, firm breasts, and a belly slowly blossoming with the growing life inside.But the belly wasn’t a huge issue, not yet. The worst was the morning sickness. Mordena had thrown up three times in the past week, and sometimes it felt like someone was grabbing her insides and twisting them hard. He was constantly exhausted, hungry, or horny, or some combination of all of them.The good news was that Arthur treated her gentler, and didn’t force himself on her. However, Mordena began to take the initiative. Before her pregnancy was confirmed, she was in fear whenever he asked, but when it actually happened, she felt relieved and blissful.After cooking the dinner, Mordena went up back to her room, after drinking some water—and fingered himself. She was almost always wet. Thankfully, touching her womanhood never got dull, and Arthur was there to please him if she wanted. Today, Mordena wanted that very much.“Again, my princess?” Arthur asked. “That’ll be the third time today.”“I know.”They made out and fondled each other. Then Mordena spread her legs, and Arthur took that as a sign to get down to business. She had gotten quite good at the fingering part—they both had a lot of experience by now. Mordena moaned as Arthur fucked her hard until the orgasm washed over her. It always left her breathless and craving for more.After the sex, the two of them lounged around on the bed. Arthur rubbed her midsection. “Do you want to turn back once it’s over, my princess?”“I hope not. I’d rather stay a girl from here on. I’m sure that’s possible. I was meant to be this way.”Arthur ran his fingers through her blonde hair. “If we got out of here, I’ll give you all treasures on this land. It’s a cheap cost for the happiness you give me.”She smiled. “I would love that. But weeping you satisfied is payment enough.”The days and weeks and months passed by. Mordena and Arthur made love as often as they could—they never skipped a day. Along the way, Mordena’s belly continued to swell, and she learned how to keep his food down when morning sickness hit. Luckily the cabinets were always stocked, and over time there were more sweets and desserts mixed in. Mordena reckoned she had gained a full cup size about three months in. Her breasts were firmer, heavier. The areolas had darkened considerably and widened as well. And they were incredibly sensitive. Sometimes Mordena just played with her tits. It was never enough to get her to orgasm, but it always felt great. Arthur’s tongue around them was even better.After seven months, Mordena had almost forgotten what it was like to stand up straight, as having bloated tits and a massive belly shifted the balance of her body. The same for sleeping on her back. And masturbation was as common as eating or drinking. Mordena had gotten quite good at it, and the orgasms were more intense than ever.On one cool night, Mordena woke with the urge. Arthur was sound asleep next to her, and she didn’t want to wake him. She quietly slipped a hand down hẻ body, over the mountainous swell of her pregnant belly and underneath the sheet. Her crotch was already moist. Months of raging hormones hadn’t changed his pussy in any discernible way—other than it was constantly wet. And Mordena swore that she was hornier than ever. She squeezed one of her tits—not as hard as she could months before. In seconds, the torturing weight on his abdomen was no longer an inconvenience. Milk gushed to her fingers, and she licked every one of them clean, enjoying the taste and the scent of her own femininity.Mordena carefully pushed herself closer to orgasm, rolling his voluptuous body back and forth on the sheets. He needed the pleasure, the release.As the warmth in his loins intensified, Mordena let out a moaning, a little louder than before. Her hand which was buried between her legs felt a warm liquid come out.“You wake up just for having fun with yourself?”Mordena stopped rubbing when she saw Arthur looking at her. “ Damn. I woke you, didn’t I? I … I didn’t mean to wake you. I … I thought I was being quiet.”“Hard to be quiet in this house,” Arthur said. Even under the moonlight, he could tell that her cheeks were blushed red.Arthur rubbed Mordena’s immense belly was. It looked like she was ready to pop out a kid at any second. Mordena was a little worried, actually. What would happen when they went into labor? There was no midwife around. And if she had complications, say requiring a C-section or something or other, well…“In a few more weeks,” she sobbed, “I’m gonna have a baby. But I’m not designed by God for this task. I may not be able to deliver it.”Arthur whispered: “You should sleep. Remember, I’m always here for you.”Arthur laid down again, but when he just closed his eyes, Mordena pulled his arm.“I think my water has just broken,” Mordena said.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"How are you doing?" Arthur whispered, and took Mordena — and her giant belly — into his big, strong arms."I'm doing alright," Mordena replied as she rested her head on his shoulder."And how's the baby?""Fine, I'm having some contractions.""You're having contractions ?""Fucck this hurts." Mordena moaned, holding her belly. She could feel the contractions from both sides; like a beast went wild just below her skin. She sat down and started to cry:“How was I going to do this all by myself? It was such a huge task, turning this baby, dropping him out head-first and pushing him, inch by painful inch out of my stretched vagina…”"Calm down, my princess," Arthur said. "I know this is hard, but you can overcome it. Women had been doing it for years. Just keep breathing and we'll get through this. And then we'll get to meet our baby."Mordena answered him with a groan.Arthur ran to the closet, grabbed a bottle of water, opened a drawer, and pulled a pair of scissors out. Then he crossed back to his wife."Keep drinking water." He said, gently. "You need it. It's important for you and the baby."Mordena sighed and took a sip. The cool water did feel good on her thirsty throat."Granted. NOW PUSH." Arthur commanded. Mordena closed her eyes and pushed her tired body to squeeze the baby out."I don't think we're getting anywhere." She panted, after a minute of pushing. Her belly and lower back were exhausted from all of the work."I think we are, but you may very well know better than me. You are the mother, after all." Arthur said. "What does your body tell you to do?""It's saying I'm tired and hot and need a break.""I wish I could give you that. I really do. But right now you need to focus on pushing, on getting that baby out.""You're sure I can't take a little break?""I am. Now keep breathing deeply and when you feel the urge to push, don't ignore it; give in to it and push, push that baby out.""I think I got it the first time you said push," Mordena said, and tried to roll her eyes, but a sharp cramping start to the next contraction interrupted her."Another one?" Arthur asked.Mordena nodded, breathlessly."OK, good, now push push push. Let gravity help, my princess!"Mordena clenched her teeth and lifted herself up so she would have a better angle."Ahhhhghhhhhh""Keeeep pushing," Arthur shouted.When the next contraction came, Mordena pushed and pushed harder, and finally felt like she was making some progress."Oh fuck." She moaned. "I feel like he's about to come out.""What, already?" Arthur asked. "Are you sure?""I think so."Arthur's eyes widened and his color slowly drained back into his face."So, everything's OK?""Yes!" Mordena cried before the next contraction hit. But she was ready for it this time.She put both hands on the chair, pulled herself up, and pressed her arms on it. She rested her forehead on the rough fabric and closed her eyes. She imagined the baby, head down in her birth canal. And when the next contraction came, she rode it like a wave, squeezing and pushing and grunting to get that baby out."I can see the head now!" Arthur cried from behind."Oh my God." Mordena panted. "I'll keep pushing.""No," Arthur said. "Let yourself stretch. Just rest and let the baby rest there.""But I'm so full." Mordena pleaded. "I need him out of me. I need to finish giving birth. Please.""Just for a few minutes. Let him crown, and let yourself stretch around him. It will burn, but just ride it out." Arthur said and handed her the bottle of water. Mordena sucked it down eagerly and dropped the empty bottle as another involuntary clenching hit her. "Can I push now?""Not quite yet," Arthur said. "But soon."Mordena sighed, not relieved yet, but knowing that the end was near."Then are you ready to meet your baby?" She asked after a minute."Yes, push for me."Mordena gritted her teeth, swung her hips, crouched, and pushed. The head was out soon thereafter.Arthur cut the cord with a knife he sterilized. Hearing their son's startled cries, Mordena smiled and fell unconscious in Arthur's arms.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------When Mordena woke up, she felt like the overhead light burned through her eyes. It felt like his body had turned inside out and then been rearranged and stuffed again. Every limb weighed a ton. She didn’t feel much below the neck, but she did feel a hand caressing her body. She slowly turned her head and saw Arthur smiling at her. “You gave birth to a cute boy. Perfectly healthy, I think.”“I thought … thought I would die.”“Me too. Seeing you in that state gave me pain in the heart. The worst pain ever. And I realized it’s all my fault.”The room became silent for a moment. Then Arthur spoke: “I’ll never let out go through the pain of childbirth again.”“Don’t say such a silly thing,” Mordena said. “I love it. It validates my womanhood. I can bring life into this world. And I’m glad it’s you who put the life into me.”“I love you too, my princess,” Arthur giggled, “Hey, do you wanna try for the second one?”“Do you think that you show your true nature too soon?” Mordena gripped Arthur’s hips and twisted: “I just gave birth. I’m tired.”“You means we can try when you’re no longer tired? Let's try for a daughter next time! I’ll name her Elizabeth…”“Whoa, hold, hold, hold it! You already think of the name of your second child when you haven’t even named the first?”“Sorry, I forgot.”Arthur held the baby boy and declared: “My son, from this moment you are Meliodas, the first prince of Britain.”Suddenly, they felt a tremor, and then a glass-shattering sound came. Arthur put the baby down, ran to the nearest window, and saw the dome collapsing. The barrier was dispelled. He shouted excitedly:“Behold, Britain! Your king has returned!”
Arthur Pendragon cursed, like, the 20th times today. He didn’t count, but he was sure that in this week the number of swears that came from his mouth was more than his last 25 years added together.How did it end up like this?One day, his master and advisor, Merlin, told him that he needed to go and perform a mission. It’s very normal, he had done dozens of missions with the accompany of the Knights of the Round Table. However, this time Merlin asked him to go alone. The target was Morgan le Fay, a powerful witch who held a dark secret about Britain's royal family. To keep the secret from falling to the wrong ears, King Arthur must do this mission by himself.After searching for a long time, Arthur found Morgan le Fay in a castle on a remote island. The witch revealed to him that she was Morgana Pendragon and the elder paternal half-sister of Arthur.Arthur: “Why did you do all this?”“WHY? You dare to ask me why? This is all your fault!”“I don’t understand.”“I’m the legitimate daughter of King Uther and Queen Vivienne! I’m the rightful heir. Not like you! You’re just a bastard, a shameful error of our father who lusted after the wife of his subordinate…”She clenched her fist”… But Merlin has made a prophecy that you and your descendant will lead Britain to a new era. And my father believed that damned old man. He locked me and my mother away, told others that we were dead. I managed to escape, but my mom… I swore that one day I would get back what’s rightful mine and became the ruler of Britain.”Arthur shook his head: “You can never be King.”“I know, but he can.” Morgana smiled wickedly, pointing at a mirror. The magic tool didn’t show her reflection, but a boy who was playing with a wooden sword.“Who is he?”“Oh, you don’t see the similarity, do you? This is the son…” she stopped a bit, before throwing out a piece of shocking news, “… of us.”“What the hell are you talking about?”“Poor brother, you haven’t realized it yet. Do you remember the day you marry Guinevere eight years ago? It’s not her who consummated the marriage with you – that’s me. I’m the woman who took your virginity. We had a wonderful night together,” she licked her lips, “and the seed you planted in me has sprouted.”Arthur was horrified: If Morgana was telling the truth, it meant he, though unwittingly, has committed incest.“No, I don’t believe you. When I woke up the next morning, Guinevere was sleeping next to me.”“After spending the night with her lover, Lancelot. That’s right, your wife cheated with your best friend, your right-hand man. Do you think why she hasn’t given you a child yet? She has to take the contraceptive herb for a long time, it renders her barren… Stupefy!”Morgana suddenly attacked with a spell, but the experience allowed Arthur to dodge in the nick of time. They fought a long battle. In the end, the young king was the victor. But in her dying breath, Morgana cast a barrier around the island. She cursed that no one could go in and out of the barrier unless Arthur declared her child as the successor of the throne of Camelot.Arthur panically ran outside, only to found that he was trapped inside an invisible dome. Not even his magic sword Excaliber could scratch it. He searched through out the castle, found nothing but the boy whom Morgana has named Mordred.Arthur wanted to kill Mordred, but the honor of a knight and a king forbid him to attack a defenseless child. He had no choice but to raise Mordred. He may have taken the boy grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still, he took the boy.Ten years have passed.Mordred grew up finely. Being concerned about the fact he killed his mother, Arthur never taught him about swordsmanship or magic. Instead, he let Mordred do the chores like cooking, cleaning, washing… In his teenage years before drawing out the sword in the stone, Arthur used to be a ward for Sir Kay, his older foster brother. Therefore, he had plenty of experience to share with Mordred. The student soon surpassed the master. By the time he turned 16, Mordred could be considered the best cooker and cleaner in entire England.On Mordred’s 18th birthday, Arthur went out to hunt while Mordred was cooking at home. When chasing after a rabbit, Arthur accidentally stumbled over a cave, which happened to be Morgana’s secret lair. He searched the cave, trying to find a spell that could dispel the barrier, but didn’t find any. Instead, he found several bottles of potion. Among them, a bottle labeled “X-Change Potion” attracted his attention.According to what he read, this potion would change the gender of the drinker. Morgana brewed it to make herself a prince but failed. The potion had no effect on women (she didn’t know that the potion was just a half-product. It altered the drinker’s DNA, removed the Y chromosome and doubled the X chromosome, thus changing men to women, but not vice-versa, since women had no Y chromosome, to begin with)A dark idea appeared in Arthur’s mind…-----------------------------------------------------------------------------When Arthur returned, his son greeted him: “Father, how is your hunting?”“Very good. I found this thing.” Arthur lifted a barrel. “This called wine, a drink for grown men. Since you turn adult today, we can have a feast together.”That night, the two held a birthday party. They spent the next thirty minutes or so sipping wine and reminiscing. But Mordred was getting tired and sleepy for some reason."Father, I'm sorry to interrupt our trip down memory lane, but I've got to take a nap.”"Are you feeling alright?", Arthur asked."Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sure all I need is a quick sleep. If you leave while I'm out, please don't forget to lock the door. And, don't drink all of my wine.""Don't worry. I'll be here when you wake up."Mordred wanted to say something more, but his eyelid suddenly felt so heavy…-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Mordred didn’t know how long he has slept. Only that when he awoke, he was cold and shivering."So, how was your nap? Did you sleep well?", his father asked with a strange look in his eyes."Yeah.", Mordred said with a yawn. "Wait. Hold on. What's wrong with my voice?""There's nothing wrong with your voice, Mordred. You sound the way a woman is supposed to sound." Arthur casually answered.Mordred eased himself up onto one elbow and looked down.And screamed.This was not his body!Instead of the broad chest and muscular pecs, he looked down and saw two round, ripe breasts; topped with pert brown nipples.His previously bulging arms were gone – replaced with slender, tanned arms. And between his legs?A pussy. A woman’s pussy, hairless and bare.Clambering to his unsteady feet, Mordred got out of the bed and stared at himself in the full-length mirror in the room.He was a woman!It was his eyes he was staring through; but in the mirror, it was a tanned, athletic woman staring back. A beautiful, sexy woman; with large, round breasts, a pretty, high-cheek-boned face, and a curtain of curly brown hair.“W-what’s going on?” Mordred’s face went red, as Arthur’s eyes hungrily fixed on his naked, feminine body.Arthur didn’t answer, but made a question instead: “Can you do me a favor?”“Of… of course, but I didn’t think this is the time…”“I’m gonna make a woman out of you,” he slowly approached, “and releasing the pen-up pressure I had to hold for ten years.”Mordred backed away.“Wh-what? That’s crazy.”Arthur grabbed his arm.“Oh, it’s not crazy,” he hissed. “It’s payback.”“P-payback?” Mordred struggled, but in his new female body, he found he was a lot weaker than he used to be. “Payback for what ?”Slap!Arthur’s hand left a stinging imprint on Mordred’s cheek.“For the sin of your mother!” he roared. “That filthy woman took everything from me! My throne! My army! My queen… I never thought I’d get my chance to get revenge for that.” And then he smiled evilly. “But now I realized I could...”Mordred’s eyes widened.“W-what are you going to do to me?”“What else?”He pulled Mordred, who was struggling to free from his grip, and shoved him towards the bed.“Get off me!” Mordred cried. “I’m a man!”“You don’t look much like a man to me,” Arthur shrugged. “And as long as you have tits and a tight pussy, it doesn’t bother me if you ‘think’ you’re a man.”Mordred looked into his eyes and saw steely determination“Please,” he desperately begged. “Don’t do this. I’m your son.” He struggled but was unable to escape. “You can’t do this to me!”“Oh, I can,” Arthur grinned. “And I will. This isn’t the first time I commit incest after all.”And Arthur told Mordred the whole story.The shock made Mordred lose his thinking ability. His arms went limp and his resistance stopped.“Aww, yeah,” Arthur grinned. “You’re ready.”------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A decade has passed, but Arthur didn’t forget how to handle a female. With his big, rough hands, he grabbed Mordred's heavy, round breasts and squeezed them roughly."Damn, these are some big titties."Mordred felt an involuntary tingle between his legs as Arthur squeezed and groped his breasts – a feeling of arousal he’d never experienced before, within the pussy he’d only had for the past hour or so.“Unnnngh,” the man inside the beautiful brunette groaned.Arthur let Mordred’s heavy breasts flop back down to his chest, and used his thumbs to gently rub Mordred's big, brown nipples.Mordred closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sensation of Arthur's rough fingers. His breath deepened. The unfamiliar nipples attached to his body responded; growing hard and aroused.And then Arthur's thick fingers slid between Mordred's thighs.Mordred gasped involuntarily, as Arthur's fingers slide inside his virginal pussy.Mordred had never felt anything like it – the touch of this big, strong man on it made him lick his lips eagerly.He squeezed shut his eyes. This beautiful, female body he was inhabiting was betraying him."Jesus," Arthur breathed hotly into Mordred’s ear. "The bitch is wet. How does it feel, Mordred?” She demanded. “How does it feel to have a man touching you?”But Mordred couldn’t say anything. He was ashamed. It felt good.“Ooooooh,” Mordred groaned. He felt a gush of wetness in his crotch."Told you," said Arthur, gripping Mordred’s big, heavy boobs in his rough fingers, "you’re gonna like it." He bent his head and pressed his mouth against Mordred’s.Mordred’s eyes shot open wide.Another man was kissing him.Fuck! This was wrong! This was gross! This was disgusting! This was…Actually, it wasn’t that bad.In fact, Mordred soon surrendered, opening his lips as Arthur forced his tongue inside Mordred’s mouth.Mordred felt dominated. Powerless. It was like his mouth was being raped – and he was liking it.He groaned into Arthur’s mouth.Mordred couldn't help it. With Arthur kneading his big, heavy breasts and sliding two fingers deep inside his new pussy, Mordred felt his defenses melt.He had a woman’s body. He was powerless except to respond as a woman would.Arthur's kisses were hard. Mordred couldn't believe how turned on he suddenly was. His whole body was aroused. His nipples were hard and throbbing. His pussy gushed moisture.“Unnnngh,” he groaned, twisting his own tongue over Arthur’s, like two snakes on Hermes’ staff.Eventually, with a sigh of disappointment, Mordred felt Arthur pull his lips away. He lied helplessly as Arthur rubbed his big, calloused hands over his round, feminine backside.Standing back, Arthur yanked down his pants, and an enormous erection sprang from it.Mordred gasped. Arthur’s cock was something which could be called King of Cocks - long, thick, throbbing, and veined.Arthur sneered, grabbing Mordred’s now tiny, feminine hand and bringing it to the throbbing black cock sprouting from his crotch. "Touch it."Mordred’s head reeled as he wrapped his little, girlish fingers around the thick shaft.Mordred cupped Arthur's heavy, egg-sized balls in one and the base of his massive erection in the other. He knew he should have been disgusted, but instead, he felt woozy; reveling in the sensation of hot, throbbing flesh in his hands.Arthur couldn’t hold his lust any longer. Spreading his partner’s legs as wide as he could, Arthur slowly pressed his swollen cock to the girl’s crotch."I'm gonna fuck you," Arthur hissed.Mordred’s face was full of terror. But the hard, fleshy knob of Arthur's cock was soon being pushed against Mordred’s moist pussy and, like a bitch in heat, he involuntarily pushed back. With a pop, the head of Arthur's dick slipped past the hymen and Mordred moaned as he felt the new and incredible sensation of being penetrated by another man’s cock.“Mmmmph!” Mordred mumbled, trying to not let out a scream of pain.“Oh, come on. Don’t look at me with such teary eyes. I promise the pain will be over soon. Shut up and enjoy.”And so did Mordred.Arthur's dick was long and thick, but Mordred’s wet, hungry pussy opened eagerly for every inch of it. Arthur was buried inside Mordred’s pussy, right to the hilt."That's fuckin' sexy," Arthur breathed. "Damn, I really miss this feeling."Poor Mordred shut his eyes, pretending he was in a dream - occupying a woman’s body that wasn’t his own, and the man he thought to be his father was raping him.But it was impossible to ignore the thick shaft ramming inside him or the throbbing sensation of his brand-new pussy.Arthur grabbed Mordred’s big, round bottom and started thrusting, his hips making a wet, slapping sound as they met with Mordred’s sweaty rump. Mordred was bounced back and forth, his heavy breasts swung too.Mordred was used to having a muscular body. In this woman’s body, it felt like every inch of his flesh was jiggling."Can you feel that?" Arthur demanded, suddenly realizing that Mordred’s wet pussy was quivering and gripping his big cock from within. "I think you’re gonna cum!"And Mordred did.His first-ever female orgasm gripped with pleasure radiated hotly from his crotch. The experience made all his previous pleasure seem pathetic by comparison. He finally got it. He finally realized the full, sexual majesty of being a woman."That's hot," Arthur felt Mordred groan, the pussy’s vibrations humming around his dick. "I'm cumming too..."Arthur’s dick shuddered and throbbed. Mordred felt his cock swell up deep inside his female pussy."Oh, God," he sobbed. "Not inside me..."But it was too late. Ramming himself up to the balls inside Mordred's wet little pussy, Arthur his dick spurted a thick load of sperm. It splattered inside Mordred’s uterus, like lava from a volcano’s eruption.And the sudden feeling of wetness and heat made Mordred shudder. He came again, wracked by shame and pleasure all at the same time.He was still shuddering as Arthur released him.Sweaty, sticky, and exhausted, Mordred slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. His glistening pussy looked red and raw; cum dribbling from it like a river.The whole locker room reeked of sex.Arthur enjoyed this shameful, guilty pleasure."Get dressed," He demanded, pulling on his own crumpled sweatpants. " you better clean yourself up, girl."Reluctantly, Mordred clambered to his feet. His knees felt weak. As he stood up, a warm dribble of Arthur's sperm ran hotly down his thighs.Arthur stroked Mordred’s feminine face.“That’s the right altitude,” Arthur grinned. “The man named Mordred doesn’t exist anymore. In fact, from now on, you’re a Mordena, the princess of a faraway country. You are kidnapped by Morgan le Fay the wicked witch, and I’m your savior. You have nothing to pay me back, so you offer your own body.”Mordred’s stomach churned.“Remember this story, in case we escape this trap and people begin to question about you.”Mordred felt sick.“One last reminder: you’re my concubine now. You’re my personal property.”And then Arthur winked at him.“And you should get used to being a woman from this point on, my princess.”-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Mordena rubbed her own belly. It was starting to show. If she straightened her back hard, then she could make her stomach flat again, but it was pointless to do so.After that fateful day, they made love days and nights like animals. Arthur always shot his semen deep inside her, claimed that there was no reason for him to pull out. It’s only a matter of time before she got pregnant, and they both knew it. Sometimes she caught herself staring at the mirror, looking at her facial features, trying to find any boyish trace left behind. But one day she suddenly realized the man named Mordred was gone forever. The reflection in the mirror was a strange woman, who had fertile hips, firm breasts, and a belly slowly blossoming with the growing life inside.But the belly wasn’t a huge issue, not yet. The worst was the morning sickness. Mordena had thrown up three times in the past week, and sometimes it felt like someone was grabbing her insides and twisting them hard. He was constantly exhausted, hungry, or horny, or some combination of all of them.The good news was that Arthur treated her gentler, and didn’t force himself on her. However, Mordena began to take the initiative. Before her pregnancy was confirmed, she was in fear whenever he asked, but when it actually happened, she felt relieved and blissful.After cooking the dinner, Mordena went up back to her room, after drinking some water—and fingered himself. She was almost always wet. Thankfully, touching her womanhood never got dull, and Arthur was there to please him if she wanted. Today, Mordena wanted that very much.“Again, my princess?” Arthur asked. “That’ll be the third time today.”“I know.”They made out and fondled each other. Then Mordena spread her legs, and Arthur took that as a sign to get down to business. She had gotten quite good at the fingering part—they both had a lot of experience by now. Mordena moaned as Arthur fucked her hard until the orgasm washed over her. It always left her breathless and craving for more.After the sex, the two of them lounged around on the bed. Arthur rubbed her midsection. “Do you want to turn back once it’s over, my princess?”“I hope not. I’d rather stay a girl from here on. I’m sure that’s possible. I was meant to be this way.”Arthur ran his fingers through her blonde hair. “If we got out of here, I’ll give you all treasures on this land. It’s a cheap cost for the happiness you give me.”She smiled. “I would love that. But weeping you satisfied is payment enough.”The days and weeks and months passed by. Mordena and Arthur made love as often as they could—they never skipped a day. Along the way, Mordena’s belly continued to swell, and she learned how to keep his food down when morning sickness hit. Luckily the cabinets were always stocked, and over time there were more sweets and desserts mixed in. Mordena reckoned she had gained a full cup size about three months in. Her breasts were firmer, heavier. The areolas had darkened considerably and widened as well. And they were incredibly sensitive. Sometimes Mordena just played with her tits. It was never enough to get her to orgasm, but it always felt great. Arthur’s tongue around them was even better.After seven months, Mordena had almost forgotten what it was like to stand up straight, as having bloated tits and a massive belly shifted the balance of her body. The same for sleeping on her back. And masturbation was as common as eating or drinking. Mordena had gotten quite good at it, and the orgasms were more intense than ever.On one cool night, Mordena woke with the urge. Arthur was sound asleep next to her, and she didn’t want to wake him. She quietly slipped a hand down hẻ body, over the mountainous swell of her pregnant belly and underneath the sheet. Her crotch was already moist. Months of raging hormones hadn’t changed his pussy in any discernible way—other than it was constantly wet. And Mordena swore that she was hornier than ever. She squeezed one of her tits—not as hard as she could months before. In seconds, the torturing weight on his abdomen was no longer an inconvenience. Milk gushed to her fingers, and she licked every one of them clean, enjoying the taste and the scent of her own femininity.Mordena carefully pushed herself closer to orgasm, rolling his voluptuous body back and forth on the sheets. He needed the pleasure, the release.As the warmth in his loins intensified, Mordena let out a moaning, a little louder than before. Her hand which was buried between her legs felt a warm liquid come out.“You wake up just for having fun with yourself?”Mordena stopped rubbing when she saw Arthur looking at her. “ Damn. I woke you, didn’t I? I … I didn’t mean to wake you. I … I thought I was being quiet.”“Hard to be quiet in this house,” Arthur said. Even under the moonlight, he could tell that her cheeks were blushed red.Arthur rubbed Mordena’s immense belly was. It looked like she was ready to pop out a kid at any second. Mordena was a little worried, actually. What would happen when they went into labor? There was no midwife around. And if she had complications, say requiring a C-section or something or other, well…“In a few more weeks,” she sobbed, “I’m gonna have a baby. But I’m not designed by God for this task. I may not be able to deliver it.”Arthur whispered: “You should sleep. Remember, I’m always here for you.”Arthur laid down again, but when he just closed his eyes, Mordena pulled his arm.“I think my water has just broken,” Mordena said.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"How are you doing?" Arthur whispered, and took Mordena — and her giant belly — into his big, strong arms."I'm doing alright," Mordena replied as she rested her head on his shoulder."And how's the baby?""Fine, I'm having some contractions.""You're having contractions ?""Fucck this hurts." Mordena moaned, holding her belly. She could feel the contractions from both sides; like a beast went wild just below her skin. She sat down and started to cry:“How was I going to do this all by myself? It was such a huge task, turning this baby, dropping him out head-first and pushing him, inch by painful inch out of my stretched vagina…”"Calm down, my princess," Arthur said. "I know this is hard, but you can overcome it. Women had been doing it for years. Just keep breathing and we'll get through this. And then we'll get to meet our baby."Mordena answered him with a groan.Arthur ran to the closet, grabbed a bottle of water, opened a drawer, and pulled a pair of scissors out. Then he crossed back to his wife."Keep drinking water." He said, gently. "You need it. It's important for you and the baby."Mordena sighed and took a sip. The cool water did feel good on her thirsty throat."Granted. NOW PUSH." Arthur commanded. Mordena closed her eyes and pushed her tired body to squeeze the baby out."I don't think we're getting anywhere." She panted, after a minute of pushing. Her belly and lower back were exhausted from all of the work."I think we are, but you may very well know better than me. You are the mother, after all." Arthur said. "What does your body tell you to do?""It's saying I'm tired and hot and need a break.""I wish I could give you that. I really do. But right now you need to focus on pushing, on getting that baby out.""You're sure I can't take a little break?""I am. Now keep breathing deeply and when you feel the urge to push, don't ignore it; give in to it and push, push that baby out.""I think I got it the first time you said push," Mordena said, and tried to roll her eyes, but a sharp cramping start to the next contraction interrupted her."Another one?" Arthur asked.Mordena nodded, breathlessly."OK, good, now push push push. Let gravity help, my princess!"Mordena clenched her teeth and lifted herself up so she would have a better angle."Ahhhhghhhhhh""Keeeep pushing," Arthur shouted.When the next contraction came, Mordena pushed and pushed harder, and finally felt like she was making some progress."Oh fuck." She moaned. "I feel like he's about to come out.""What, already?" Arthur asked. "Are you sure?""I think so."Arthur's eyes widened and his color slowly drained back into his face."So, everything's OK?""Yes!" Mordena cried before the next contraction hit. But she was ready for it this time.She put both hands on the chair, pulled herself up, and pressed her arms on it. She rested her forehead on the rough fabric and closed her eyes. She imagined the baby, head down in her birth canal. And when the next contraction came, she rode it like a wave, squeezing and pushing and grunting to get that baby out."I can see the head now!" Arthur cried from behind."Oh my God." Mordena panted. "I'll keep pushing.""No," Arthur said. "Let yourself stretch. Just rest and let the baby rest there.""But I'm so full." Mordena pleaded. "I need him out of me. I need to finish giving birth. Please.""Just for a few minutes. Let him crown, and let yourself stretch around him. It will burn, but just ride it out." Arthur said and handed her the bottle of water. Mordena sucked it down eagerly and dropped the empty bottle as another involuntary clenching hit her. "Can I push now?""Not quite yet," Arthur said. "But soon."Mordena sighed, not relieved yet, but knowing that the end was near."Then are you ready to meet your baby?" She asked after a minute."Yes, push for me."Mordena gritted her teeth, swung her hips, crouched, and pushed. The head was out soon thereafter.Arthur cut the cord with a knife he sterilized. Hearing their son's startled cries, Mordena smiled and fell unconscious in Arthur's arms.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------When Mordena woke up, she felt like the overhead light burned through her eyes. It felt like his body had turned inside out and then been rearranged and stuffed again. Every limb weighed a ton. She didn’t feel much below the neck, but she did feel a hand caressing her body. She slowly turned her head and saw Arthur smiling at her. “You gave birth to a cute boy. Perfectly healthy, I think.”“I thought … thought I would die.”“Me too. Seeing you in that state gave me pain in the heart. The worst pain ever. And I realized it’s all my fault.”The room became silent for a moment. Then Arthur spoke: “I’ll never let out go through the pain of childbirth again.”“Don’t say such a silly thing,” Mordena said. “I love it. It validates my womanhood. I can bring life into this world. And I’m glad it’s you who put the life into me.”“I love you too, my princess,” Arthur giggled, “Hey, do you wanna try for the second one?”“Do you think that you show your true nature too soon?” Mordena gripped Arthur’s hips and twisted: “I just gave birth. I’m tired.”“You means we can try when you’re no longer tired? Let's try for a daughter next time! I’ll name her Elizabeth…”“Whoa, hold, hold, hold it! You already think of the name of your second child when you haven’t even named the first?”“Sorry, I forgot.”Arthur held the baby boy and declared: “My son, from this moment you are Meliodas, the first prince of Britain.”Suddenly, they felt a tremor, and then a glass-shattering sound came. Arthur put the baby down, ran to the nearest window, and saw the dome collapsing. The barrier was dispelled. He shouted excitedly:“Behold, Britain! Your king has returned!”
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