Chapter 5

Home Again Home Again


My apartment was a welcome escape from all the strangeness of the last two days.  Of course like everything else it seemed different in any number of unsettling ways.  I tried to turn on the lights and found my hand slapping the wall below the switch.  The kitchenette’s counters were too high so when I tried to toss my keys onto the one by the fridge they instead fell with a jangling clatter.  The living room looked huge to me, like a funhouse version of itself.  Still it was home and I found myself adapting quickly enough as I lugged my bags into the bedroom. 


I emptied the bags, making one pile for clothes near the bedroom closet and another pile near the bathroom door for everything else.  I was surprised to find that Barb had not been idle while I was getting dressed in the changing room at Kathy’s.  As expected there were several identical bras, each a satiny white and looking far too complicated for a former guy to operate properly.  She had gotten me a surprise as well, though – a silk nightie with tiny spaghetti straps and lace around the neckline and hem.  The fabric was a pale green silk.  I smiled to myself.  Barb was a good friend but I had trouble imagining going to bed in such a thing. 


I returned to my unpacking and started finding places for everything in my dresser and the bathroom cabinet.   I rapidly ran out of room though and had a considerable pile of stuff left over. “I’m going to need more cabinets or a small warehouse or something,” I muttered.  If this is what Barb considered the basics I was definitely not looking forward to her idea of a full wardrobe.


By the time I was done with all that it was nearly six o’clock and I laughed as my stomach rumbled loudly.  “Nice to see some things haven’t changed,” I said and patted my stomach.  I left the remaining clothes for later and headed for the kitchenette.  The contents of the fridge were not encouraging.  Several different bowls, baggies, and boxes of leftovers were growing impressive specimens of fungi.  There was some lunchmeat that looked suspiciously slimy.  I could feel my nose wrinkling at the various odors.  “Not a total loss, though,” I said as I grabbed one of the three beers remaining in the fridge door.  I put the beer on the counter and opened the freezer door, grumbling as I had to stand on tip-toe to see the contents of the upper shelf.  There was not much there except some frozen burritos.  “Good enough,” I decided and threw two of them onto a paper plate and then in the microwave. 


While they cooked I opened the beer and took a long swallow.  The taste seemed a lot stronger than normal but was just what I needed after such a wild day.  I wondered if I was supposed to have beer after the tranquilizers they had used on me and shrugged.  Beer doesn’t really count as alcohol, I thought with a smirk.  I had tried that logic on my parents many years ago when they caught me with a six pack and a fake ID – not surprisingly it had not worked on them at all.  The microwave interrupted my reverie with a loud beep.  I grabbed the paper plate and loaded it up with salsa from a jar in the cabinet and a few slightly stale tortilla chips.


“Bon appetite,” I said with a giggle and carried the plate and my beer to the table.  I grabbed the remote as I sat down and turned on the 3D.  The news channel I had been watching the other day was still tuned in but it was on commercial so I took a nice big bite of my burrito – and nearly gagged.


I have been a pepper head as long as I can remember.  The hotter the food, the better as far as I was concerned.  It had started with hot cinnamon candies when I was a kid.  My mom would watch in amazement as I ate enough of the candies to make tears roll down my cheeks, and then eat some more.  As a teenager I was always looking for the spiciest Mexican or Chinese take out I could find.  In the Army a buddy of mine introduced me to the wonderful world of extra-hot sauces and soon I had quite a collection of little bottles with brightly colored labels and names like “Liquid Fire”, “Spontaneous Combustion”, or even “Mega Death.”  I loved the heat of the sauces and the endorphin rush that I got from a really hot one.


This is probably why I had not thought twice about throwing some “Howling Mad Salsa” on my burritos.  Just like with the beer, though, my taste buds seemed more sensitive now.  The blazing heat from the sauce made me whimper – and then the endorphins kicked in and I was nearly floating from the rush. “Wow,” I whispered.  Now, a normal person would have thrown the burritos away and started over with, say, some toast or something other bland, sensible food.  Not me.  I may have been transformed into an inhuman freak but I was still a pepper head and my new body seemed to react more to the peppers more intensely than my old one…so of course I took another big bite and moaned happily at the co-mingled pleasure and pain.


I blinked away tears to see that the commercials were finally over and six o’clock news was starting.  Not surprisingly the major story was still the changes that had swept across the world.  At least they had settled on a story title.  They were calling it “The Return of Magic” and even had some snazzy graphics featuring a silhouetted human form shifting into various shapes.  The reporters and their various guests were struggling to find some patterns in what appeared to be a completely chaotic event.  Try as they might, it seemed that they could only come up with a few interesting common themes.


First, the rate of changes seemed to be slowing.  There were still some spontaneous alterations – they showed footage of the Russian Defense Minister rapidly changing into a very cute and cuddly anthropomorphic rabbit at a press conference – but the number of new cases reported at hospitals was way down. 


Although figures were sketchy it seemed that roughly twenty percent of the population had been transformed in some fashion.  The changes were incredibly varied though.  Some had merely found themselves with a new hair color or a slightly taller or shorter body.  Others had grown younger or older, or changed race or gender (though the news did not mention any other hermaphrodites).  These were considered “mild” transformations.


“Mild,” I muttered to myself as I looked at the second burrito.  Normally I would eat two and a bunch of chips besides but I was already full.  I shrugged and took another long swallow of beer.  The brew was not doing much to quell the fire of the salsa but that was fine with me.  The “afterburn” was the best parts of a spicy meal as far as I was concerned.


On the 3D, the reporter was saying that the more severe cases could no longer be considered completely human.  The news report divided them into three rough categories.  The first group consisted of those that seemed to be a mix of human and animal.  These ranged from people with tails to anthropomorphic forms like the snake-girl at the hospital.  The second group included races that had previously only occurred in fantasy and myth, such as Kathy the elven fashion store owner or Barb the part-time sphinx.  The final group had lost all traces of humanity, becoming either normal animals or fantastic creatures such as griffons or ki-rin.


Physical changes like these were the most common.  More disturbing were the amazing powers that a smaller number of people now possessed.  Some of them had physical changes as well but many looked just like normal people.  There were reports of people flying or using super strength or other powers that sounded like something right out of a comic book.  I recalled the video of the flying woman that Ryan had been showing in his cube and was suddenly jealous.  I’d almost be ok with all this if I could fly or turn into a sphinx or something, I thought.


The reporter went on to say that there were already stories of such “super powers” being used for both good and evil deeds.  There was even talk of groups banding together on both sides of the law.  I was glad to see that if Indianapolis had any superhero wannabes they were keeping it to themselves.  The last thing I wanted to see was a bunch of idiots in tights duking it out in my city!


There were also places and things affected by “The Return.”  A certain statue in New York’s Central Park was singing bawdy love songs from old musicals day and night.  Some girls in Texas found a hand-held mirror that allowed them to alter their faces into nearly any person’s that they could imagine.  They were interviewed while both of them were wearing the face of Marilyn Monroe.  Too bad it’s only the face, I thought to myself.  The girls’ bodies – one Latino, one white – were not affected by the alterations to their features.  Seeing the Latino-bodied Marilyn teasing her blonde hair and touching her ivory cheeks with her slim brown hand was bizarre.  The scene next switched to one of the many office buildings in San Francisco where anyone stepping through an otherwise unremarkable basement door would find themselves abruptly transported to an apparently random spot somewhere in the world.  One janitor had found herself stepping through the door and into a river in Florida.  A security guard had presented himself to the United States Embassy in Beijing after stepping out of thin air into the city’s main square.  China was making noises about the United States using the “magical door story” as a way to cover up espionage activities.


The news went to commercial again and I used the time to throw my paper plate in the garbage and relocate myself to the recliner.  I sighed happily as I sank into the cushions.  At least I fit into this ok, I thought and took another sip of beer as the commercials ended.


In some cases, the reporter stated, families and communities underwent similar changes.  The 3D showed images of that family that had become a small herd of deer.  They seemed to have finally stopped rutting and I wondered if the wife-turned-stag had gotten her new does pregnant.  An entire region of Libya and the surrounding desert, including several villages and one good sized town, had become a dense jungle.  No residents had appeared and so far no expedition sent into the new jungle had returned.  An island had appeared somewhere between Cuba and Florida.  The island was home to a number of elegant buildings with slim stone columns and covered walkways.  Satellite photos and boaters with binoculars reported seeing a variety of animals on the island and occasionally people. As with the new Saharan jungle, no one had successfully ventured to the island.    


Finally, the 3D switched to pictures from Sandusky, Ohio where every single resident – man, woman, and child – had turned into clones of a gorgeous local teenager named Ashley.  None of the Ashley’s they interviewed seemed to mind that she was one of thousands of identical teenaged sisters.  They were all going about the roles they had played before the changes.   They showed an Ashley in a police uniform making her rounds, a trio of Ashley’s playing pool in the local bar, a whole string of Ashley’s getting off a school bus one after the other, even an entire family of Ashley’s.  The kids had apparently been boys and were dressed in feminized versions of scout uniforms while their parents were wearing matching short skirts and snug pink tops.  The parent Ashley’s kissed, identical blonde ponytails bobbing, hands cupping the other’s identical cute little bottoms, soft bosoms pressing together…and just that quick I was turned on again. 


“No,” I groaned.  “This body needs an off switch!”  My penis was already making a tent in my skirt and my nipples were standing up firmly atop my breasts.  I had not gotten an erection so quickly since puberty!  Since I could not use it on my body I used the remote to turn off the news.  That helped some but I was still aroused.  “I am not ready for this,” I groaned.  I was certainly curious about my new body and tempted to do something about the arousal, but mostly I wanted to forget about it for a while.


Being a guy, or at least a former guy, I knew one surefire way to forget my problems.  I took another long pull on the beer, polishing it off before heading to the kitchen for another.  Getting up and moving around seemed to help and my sudden erection faded as I opened my second beer.  Before I could take a drink, though, I found myself yawning and stretching.  I looked at the wall clock.  It was barely nine o’clock and I was already feeling tired.  The doctor had warned me that the drugs might make me feel that way.  My too-small clothes were starting to bug me too, the bra digging into my shoulders and ribcage and the skirt tugging at my bottom and hips. 


Fine, I decided.  My normal routine was to change into sweats after dinner.  Why should tonight be any different?  I headed back to the bedroom and unbuttoned my blouse.  I had to struggle with my hair some but finally got if off and tossed it onto the dirty clothes pile by my bed.  The soft fabric looked entirely out of place on top of my collection of t-shirts and Arrow dress shirts.  Next came the skirt – it felt good to be free of the constant swishing of the skirt’s hem.  I looked down in consternation though at my lycra-encased bosom.  The bra had gone on quickly enough but would it come off as easily?


In a word, no.  It took five minutes, some swearing that would have made my mother blush and some feats of gymnastic skill to finally worm my way out of the dastardly thing.  It was like trying to take off an extremely tight t-shirt but with the added joy of my new breasts getting bound up and painfully pinched during the proceedings, not to mention my hair joining the fray.  Finally the damned thing was free of my breasts and my hair.  I gleefully flung it towards my trash can.  “Never again,” I announced and then laughed at myself for talking to lingerie.


My new breasts were glad to be free of the bra’s confines.  They jiggled with my laughter, my nipples bouncing about.  I looked down in fascination.  I was still amazed that such large, soft, utterly female things were attached to me.  I reached up and cupped the heavy globes.  My tiny hands sank into the fleshy undersides of my breasts and lifted slightly.  I realized with a little more effort I could easily take one of my enlarged nipples into my mouth.  I moaned as the nipples hardened at the naughty thought.


“No,” I told my over-eager body.  My hands fell to my sides, letting my breasts swing free.  I was tired of being confronted with my altered self so I stepped over to my dresser and rummaged about for a clean sweatshirt.  I pulled one out and gave it a cautious sniff.  It smelled of laundry soap but also had a faint musky undertone that I realized was my cologne.  The familiar scent was strangely comforting so I pulled the sweatshirt over my head, ignoring the sensation of the soft cloth sliding over my bare nipples.  I did battle with my hair once more and succeeded in getting it to fall outside of the sweatshirt.


I had to laugh as I looked down at myself.  The sweatshirt was enormous on me, except where the fabric stretched across the slopes of my breasts.  The cuffs fell past my fingertips and the hem was down to my thighs.  I shrugged and pulled the sleeves up past my elbows.  The shirt would have to do double duty as a nightshirt.  My only other option was that green silk confection that Barb had bought and I simply was not ready for that.  Besides, I was glad to be wearing something of my own, even if it fit like a tent.


I yawned.  I was tired and tired of thinking about my new body, so I wandered back to the living room and my computer to check messages.  Sitting at the old-style keyboard proved to be a new challenge.  My cleavage pressed against my arms and the desktop.  Red curly hairs escaping from the contraption Barb had loaned me trailed across my hands, the keyboard, and everything else.  “Damn it!” I finally cried as I pushed at my recalcitrant hair.  “Give me a moment’s peace!”  Oddly enough that seemed to work a little and I was finally able to open my message browser.


“Son of a bitch, go away for a few days and everyone you’ve ever known wants to write to you.”  I had several hundred new emails and voice messages.  Many of the messages were from various forums and mailing lists that I belonged to and I shoved those into a folder labeled “When I Have Time.”  The rest were from friends of mine.  Several were from people at Sadler and Fisk including one voice mail from Mr. Fisk.


I took another swig of beer.  The bottle was only half empty but I felt a bit dizzy.  I guess I’m a cheap date, I decided before returning to the messages.  Most of my friends had apparently not heard that I had changed.  The emails from them were generally similar, asking how I was, how were things at work, by the way had I grown horns or wings or anything.  I decided to set those emails aside for now as well.  How do you tell your buddies that you have bigger tits than any girl they’ve ever dated?


The emails from work were of course much different.  Jerry wrote:


Hi Dan,


I hope you’re feeling better.  I know you must be embarrassed and all
but don’t let it get to you, man.  Just want you to know that everyone
knows what happened was ‘cause of The Return, you know?


Get well soon.

C ya,


I smiled a little.  He was treating it like I had the flu and had thrown up in the office.  I suppose that made sense in a way.  There were emails from a few other co-workers that were along the same lines.  The email from Jerry’s partner in crime was interesting:



I cannot imagine what you’re going through but I want to know that everyone is
worried about you and pulling for you.  I don’t know what I can do but I want to
help if I can.

I just now heard from Barb that you will probably be released from the hospital
this morning and that she has to leave to see her parents.  If you need someone to
run errands or just a friendly ear call me, ok?  Tomorrow is Friday so I only have
a few classes, most of which I can skip and Mr. Fisk has already told me I could
use comp time to help you out.


Email or IM me when you get a chance.

Take care,




Who knew that geeky, introverted Ryan would be so chivalrous?


Finally only one message was left, the voice mail from Mr. Fisk.  I blushed furiously as I remembered the last time I had seen him, his face contorted in shock at the sight of my orgasmic transformation.  I sighed and decided I had to face it sooner or later and clicked on the “play” button.


“Dan,” said Mr. Fisk’s recorded voice.  “First let me say that I am glad to hear that you have been released from the hospital.  We are all looking forward to seeing you return to work when you are ready to do so.  I think that for now the best thing for you would be to take some sick leave so that you can adjust.  Let’s talk in a day or so about your return to work.  Give me a call so we can discuss how you want to proceed.  Until then, take care of yourself.  Good bye.”


As usual, he was a man of few words.  Still I was surprised.  Mr. Fisk was so straight-laced that I had fully expected to be fired or encouraged to leave.  Not that he was a homophobe or anything.  If someone like me had applied to Sadler and Fisk they would have had the same chance as anyone else to get hired.  On the other hand, I had dropped my pants and masturbated right there in front of him and Joe and probably a customer or two – not exactly professional behavior.  “Why Mr. Fisk,” I said to the computer screen.  “Keep it up and people might start thinking you’re an old softie.”


I yawned and drained the last of the beer.  I felt half drunk and wondered if that was due to my smaller size or just being so tired.  The phone picked that moment to ring of course, making me jump half out of my chair.  A popup window appeared on my computer screen with a ringing phone icon and the text, “Call from:  Barb’s Cell Phone.”  I hurriedly clicked the “Answer” button.


“Hello?” I said towards the computer’s microphone.


“Hi, Danny, it’s Barb.”


“Hey, did you make it to St. Louis ok?”


“Yep, just got here a little bit ago.”




I heard her sigh and what sounded like a door closing.  “Danny,” she said in a quieter voice.  “I guess it’s true that changes run in the family.”


“What do you mean?  Your parents are part cat too?”


“Yes, we’re all sphinxes but that’s not all…”  She paused and I imagined her biting her lip.


“Come on, out with it! What’s going on?”


“Well, you know my mom and I have always looked kind of similar?  How I look like her when she was my age?”




“Well now we’re damn near twins.  Not quite, but awfully close.”


“Oh wow.  So she got younger?”  I was trying to imagine two Barbs, both with long cat tails and ears, and groaned as my traitorous cock began to stir once again.


“Yes, she looks like she’s my age…but that’s not all.  My dad was affected too.”


“So he’s a guy sphinx?”  I tried to imagine Barb’s dad as a sphinx, hoping it would cool me off.  I had to stop myself from laughing at the mental image of Barb’s pot-bellied, middle-aged father being part lion.


“No, he’s not.  He looks exactly like my mom!”


“What?  No way.”


“I’m not kidding!  They’re in the family room right now in sphinx form, lying side by side in front of the fireplace.  I can’t tell them apart!  I think I’ve actually talked to both of them on the phone but Dad pretended to be Mom!”


Oh no, that did it.  The notion of triplet sphinx girls was just as bad as the news report about the Ashley’s in Ohio.  My swelling erection was joined by a thrilling tingle further below.  I rasped, “How are they taking the change?”


“They seem just hunky-dory with it.  They can change like me into a humanoid form but they don’t seem all that interested in doing so.  Dad said he…I mean ‘she’ went to the store the other day and could not wait to get home and ‘get on all fours again.’  She doesn’t seem to mind at all that she had to wear Mom’s clothes to go out!”


“Oh, Barb, I’m sorry,” I told her.  My body made a lie of my words, my cock straining at my increasingly wet panties.  “Are you ok?”


“You know me, I’ll handle it.  This is just a bit much, you know?  They seem so…content.  They should be freaking out!”


I laughed a little.  “Now you know how I felt when you showed me how you can change shapes.  You’ve been strutting around like…well…the cat that got the mouse.”  As I spoke my computer bleeped at me and an instant message (IM) window opened, saying:


MagisAtratum> Hey, Dan.  Saw you’re online.  U OK?


Barb laughed.  “Touche.  You’re right, I suppose.”  There was a muffled noise on her end, and I could hear Barb talking with someone.  “OK,” she said.  “I have to run.  I just wanted to let you know that I’m here.  I also wanted to ask you how you’re doing.”


“I’m ok.  I’ve just been reading email and stuff.”  I typed into the IM window:


            Dan19K> On phone, hang on.


“Uh-huh.  Did you try on your new clothes?”


“Not yet.  To tell you the truth I’ve been avoiding it.”


            MagisAtratum> K.  I’ll be here when you’re done.


“Somehow I’m not surprised.  Danny, you should—OK Mom, hang on!  Look, I have to go.  Oh!  Ryan may contact you.  He seems worried about you.”


I laughed.  “He’s IM’ing me right now.  Oh, excuse me, the ‘Magis Atratum’ is IM’ing me.”  I was glad for the distraction.  Trying to hold two conversations was putting the image of the trio of sphinxes out of my mind.


“OK!  Tell the Magis I said hello. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”


“OK, good luck with your parents.”


“Thanks.  Good night!”


            Dan19K> OK, I’m done on the phone.  Sorry.  Barb says ‘hi.’


The response was immediate; he must have been waiting by the keyboard.


            MagisAtratum> S’ok.  Did u get my email?


            Dan19K> Yes I did.  Thank you, that was a very nice offer.


            MagisAtratum > No problema.  Anything I can do to help?


            Dan19K> Not unless you know some magic or something to change me back!


            MagisAtratum> Wish I did.  Guess you’re not as happy-go-lucky as Barb about the change huh?


            Dan19K> Not at all, wish I was.


            MagisAtratum> Do you need any errands run or anything?  I could pick up groceries or whatever.


            “I’ll give you this much, you’re persistent,” I muttered.  I remembered what Barb had said about Ryan’s interests and wondered how selfless his offer was.  Still, I could use some help.


            Dan19K> I have to admit that I’m not thrilled about going anywhere just now.  If you wanted to pick up some ham, a loaf of bread, a box of frozen burritos, and a twelve pack of beer that would be great.


            MagisAtratum> LOL


            Dan19K> WTF?


MagisAtratum>Now I know you’re u, Dan.  Your tastes haven’t changed much have they?  Beer and burritos…is that all you eat?


            Dan19K> What can I say?  Almost out.


            MagisAtratum> OK, ok.  Should I bring the stuff over tomorrow morning?


            Dan19K> Yes, please.  Sometime after 9?


            MagisAtratum> Cool.  Have a good night.  Drop me an email if you need anything else.


            Dan19K> Thanks, Ryan, I really appreciate it.  Good night!


            MagisAtratum> G’night Danni.


My mouth dropped as I saw how he had signed off.  Danni?  I was used to being called Danny on occasion.  Even some of my Army buddies called me that.  But Danni-with-an-i was a girl’s name.  I looked down at my bosom stretching my old sweatshirt.  “Face it, ‘Danni’, people are going to see you as a girl, even if you still have this.”  I patted the rounded bulge that my penis made in the shirt further down. 


I looked at the empty beer bottle by the keyboard with temptation. There was still one left in the fridge.  “No, enough.  I need to get to bed.”


A few days ago I would have thrown my sweats into a corner of the room, brushed my teeth, and flopped into bed.  Tonight I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, not sure what to do.  I sighed.  I should at least brush my teeth, I decided and made my way into my tiny bathroom.  I studied my reflection in the mirror over the sink.  The mirror was both too small and too high off the ground to show me much of my new body but I had to laugh a little.  My reflection looked like a girl wearing her boyfriend’s sweatshirt.  My girlish new features looked bleary and my curls were winning their battle with Barb’s hair wrap.  I toyed with the some of the loose tresses, feeling the silky softness of my hair.  Why do I have to be so girlish? I wondered.  If I have to be part male and part female, couldn’t I have just been me with a vagina? 


Still, my new hair felt nice in my hands.  I reached around behind me and pulled the thick ponytail forward.  The curly hair had a lot of volume but was surprisingly light.  Stroking it was soothing as well, almost like petting a dog.  I’m not sure how long I stood there playing with my new hair.  By the time I finally brushed my teeth and headed for bed, though, the clock on my nightstand told me it was past ten thirty.  I yawned and crawled into bed –


And could not get to sleep.


First there was the whole issue of how to lie down.  I generally liked to sleep on my stomach with my arms at my sides; a position one girlfriend had dubbed the “beached whale.”  This was of course out of the question now.  My breasts were way too sensitive and did not like being squashed underneath me.  I tried lying on my side next.  This was better but still not entirely comfortable as one breast lay on top of the other, making them rub together as I breathed.  I mumbled something entirely unladylike and rolled onto my back.  My breasts settled against my chest, part of their weight on my upper arms, but at least they were no longer being squished or rubbing each other.  With that accomplished I snuggled into my blankets, sure that I would be asleep soon.


Instead, I stared at the ceiling long enough to contemplate that it really needed a thorough painting.


I was thinking too much.  I kept going over parts of the day in my head.  Waking to my new body, talking to the doctor, my shopping trip with Barb, all of it replayed itself in my head.  I was worrying too about how I would live in this new body, whether I would be able to keep my job, even how Ryan was going to react to me tomorrow.  He had called me Danni.  Was he really thinking of me as a girl?  Would he be as intrigued as Kathy the elf girl had been?


The image of Kathy and I looking at our reflection in the dressing room flashed into my mind’s eye.  She was gorgeous, better looking than any girl I had ever hoped to be with, and yet she was interested in me even though I looked like a cute, busty girl.  I wondered how serious she was and whether I should go see her soon and what she might do if I did.  Images of her pulling down my skirt and pulling out my cock to tease it with her slim hands danced through my head.  My hair-trigger body of course began to respond to my thoughts.  For what seemed like the tenth or twelfth time that day I felt an erection straining at my panties and my nipples stiffening. 


I groaned and tried to ignore my overactive imagination and my growing arousal.  I did not want to give in to my freakish new body’s demands.  I was not, could not, be ready to accept that this body was truly mine.


My penis finally slipped free of my panties’ waistband and snaked its way up my tummy.  I could feel its bumps and ridges against the smooth skin of my belly and its engorged length seemed as hot as molten lead.  Well, this part hasn’t changed so much, I told myself and tentatively reached down to touch the fleshy rod.  It seemed large in my hand and the magically regenerated foreskin was a little odd to my exploring fingertips but other than that it was completely familiar to me.  Emboldened, I wrapped my fingers as far as they would go around my cock’s girth and began to stroke it just as I had so many times before.


I yelped happily at the pleasure caused by my stroking and added the other hand.  They felt so small on my cock and it was easy to imagine that Kathy was in bed with me, her dainty hands wrapped around my cock, lightly but rapidly rubbing up and down.  My cock pulsed in my hands, hardening even more as it stood up from my abdomen.  I gripped my penis firmly and my stroking became more intense.  Somewhere nearby a girl was moaning and panting sexily, the sultry sounds increasing my excitement.


Below my cock I felt a by now familiar wetness and warmth spread through my groin.  I told myself to ignore it but one of my hands was already gliding down the length of my cock, fingers exploring the thick fleshy lips below its base.  They were hot too, and slick with juices welling up from inside me and coating my fingertips.  I brought my fingers to my nose and sniffed a musky aroma that I instantly recognized. 


Smelling like a girl in heat should have sent me into another screaming fit.  Instead I licked my fingers and enjoyed the pungent taste.  My hand quickly returned to my new nether lips and…I hesitated.  I knew that I was on the brink of something entirely new, that if I did this I was accepting not just that I had been transfigured but that this bizarrely altered, all too feminine flesh was mine.  Not an aberration or hallucination.  Not a temporary excursion into femininity.  To accept this body would transform me in a way more profound than the addition of breasts or my new womanhood.


The decision was made in a heartbeat and I gave a glad cry as my fingers plunged into my sopping wet pussy.  My other hand went back to furiously rubbing my cock.  In that moment I was remade for the second time in as many days and tears of joy ran down my face as I pleasured both of my sexes.  It was only moments before a thunderous orgasm rolled over me and shook me to my core. 


I panted underneath my blankets, awash in a glorious afterglow.  The giddy rush of pleasure from my penis was familiar, if more powerful than I remembered, but the pulsing orgasmic waves coming from my pussy was a new experience that I was savoring.  Is this what girls feel? I wondered.  I did not feel as tired as I normally did after an orgasm.  Instead I felt energized and eager for more.  My hands were soon busy once again and in moments I was writhing on my sheets and moaning lustily.


I am not sure how many times I came that night.  Each orgasm seemed to only fuel the need for another!  Instead of feeling tired I felt strangely invigorated, as though full of a restless, almost nervous, energy that would not let me stop what I was doing.  I was caught in an endless cycle of pleasure. 


Finally I could not take anymore. My exhausted brain overruled the demands of my body and I fell into a deep slumber.