Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When I think about that fateful moment I don't remember much. I was at the lowest point in my life, fully prepared for the fate I knew was coming. I cringed a little thinking about my future. I didn't deserve it and I doubted that any of the others that came before me deserved such a fate.

I would have run away if I could but there was no chance. I was chained to the wall and escape was even impossible to contemplate. I looked at the prisoner on the other side of the room. We hadn't said a word to each other all day but usually we talked, even if only a little bit. I just wasn't in the mood to talk and he knew it. He looked so different to me today but then again he could very easily say the same thing about me.

I heard the rattle of chains as I moved my left arm to scratch myself with all five fingers. It shattered the silence of the room. I moved my arm back and the chain rattled again. I needed to go to the toilet and although I really didn't want to see a guard, I really didn't want to piss all over the floor. "I need the toilet!" I hollered. My voice sounded weird. They never seemed to hear you until you were screeching your lungs out.

"Toilet!!!" I hollered as I rattled my chains. I couldn't believed I was reduced to sitting on a cold stone floor naked, chained to a wall, trying to get someone to take me to the toilet. I'm an academic, for Christ's sake! "I need the fucking toilet!"

"Shhh!" said O'Toole, my co-prisoner. He was a good kid, reminded me of myself at his age. He, however, was not the type of person to shush me. "Shut up! I can hear something!"

I ceased my shouting and tried to listen. It was true, there were noises going on. Shouts, not mine, slid through the tiny gap under the large metal door. Lots of shouts. Usually this place was unnervingly quiet, like a morgue. Our captors were the silent types, using quiet threats of violence where others would use shouting. But I guess cults are rarely noisy.

However, the creepy silence was preferable than the angry, menacing shouting that came trickling under the door. Both O'Toole and I sat there mesmerized, I almost forgot about what had happened to me last night. No words could be made out but it was clear that one group of people didn't like another group of people. "Do you think…" O'Toole started but I shushed him.

I didn't think anything. I knew today was my day to go to 'The Farm' but this didn't sound related to my transfer. When Hedgpeth went to 'The Farm' it sounded like a completely normal day, no shouting at all. One moment he was there, kinda like he always was and then the guards came and took him away. Off to 'The Farm'. I desperately did not want to go to 'The Farm', but I wanted to die even less.

It would be just my luck the day I was supposed to go above ground would be the day someone went crazy and shot everyone. In my weakest hours I would have leapt at the chance to go to 'The Farm', as I had been stuck in this putrid hole, chained to a wall for three months. I had the worst luck. It was because of my luck that I was stuck in here anyway.

The shouting had gone on for two minutes or so, although it could have been an hour. Time was an impossible notion when stuck in a windowless dungeon for three months. The only way I knew I had been in here for three months was that two people before me had been hauled off to 'The Farm' and that happened on a monthly basis. O'Toole had only been in here for two weeks or so, so for a few gruelling weeks I was totally alone in the dungeon. While I felt bad for O'Toole being here, I was certainly happy for the company.

"They've come to save us!" O'Toole chirped happily, "I know it!" His optimism was palpable. I tried not to get over-excited. O'Toole could be saved but I was already gone. Why hadn't they come a day earlier? One day would have made all the difference to me.

Turns out that O'Toole was right. They were here to save us. The shouts got closer and louder until the big heavy door that separates us from the rest of the world swung open. Three men with gun slowly walked in, aiming wildly. "Don't shoot!" I squealed out, "We're prisoners!"

The men were federal police, thank God. Here to arrest every single last Dragon member in the place. They knew what the Dragons had been up to and had the evidence to put them away. I was just lucky enough to be rescued but unlucky enough to be evidence.

I was itching to get those infernal chains off. They haunted me all the time. Every movement of mine was heralded by the sound of heavy chains clanking together. Those chains gave me nightmares, in this day and age who used chains? Those Dragon bastards were incredibly brutal.

One guy began the process of setting me free, while another helped O'Toole out. I was too ashamed to look the man in the eye but I did mutter 'Thank you' over one thousand times in a hushed voice while he undid my shackles. There were chains attached to every limb, one for each leg and arm. He dutifully, tried all the keys on all the locks, slowly setting me free, limb by limb. My arms looked so skinny.

"Here you go," said the man that freed me. "Easy now," he instructed as he helped me up. I held hand, I had held many hands in my life but this time felt strange.

Finally I was free from the chains. I could finally move around wherever I wanted.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"Wallace Jane," I told him and he gave me a weird look.

"Don't worry, Miss Wallace, we'll have you out of here any minute now."

***

They put O'Toole and I in the back of a police van. They told us in no uncertain terms that we weren't under arrest but were being transported somewhere else for debriefing and questioning. I thought it was the middle of the night when they rescued us but I knew I was wrong when the sun came streaming into my eyes. I hadn't seen it in so long that it blinded me. So much had changed since I last saw the sun.

Both O'Toole and I were naked when we were rescued. Our captors had treated us essentially like animals and stripped us unceremoniously when we arrived. The stone floor was unbearably cold when I was first chained up, but I got used to it. The police had given us blankets to cover ourselves. It wasn't the best thing I had ever wore but I had never been so thankful for a square of cloth in my life. I didn't like the way the blanket scratched my supple skin though.

O'Toole was crying with utter happiness, he was spared a terrible fate. I was not so lucky. I looked down at my naked body. I had lost so much.

The van started up and it rattled onto the road. O'Toole must have seen the despair in my eyes. It wasn't hidden very well. "It's OK Wally, it could have been much worse. You could have been sent to 'The Farm'."

I tried to cry but couldn't. I had ran out of tears a long time ago. 'The Farm' was a terrifying notion and I was glad I was spared that fate but my current fate was bad enough.

"Look at me!" I gasped, finally letting emotion burst out of me, "I look like a fucking porn star!" I gesticulated wildly. It was true. My body resembled a beautiful, sexual woman's body down to the toenails. I exuded pure sexuality. My soft curves were a living definition of beauty. I was simply gorgeous and I hated it.

Most beautiful women enjoy being that way, they revel in the attention they receive, they put on makeup to enhance it and they enjoy all the perks that are thrust towards them. I had not received such treatment yet, as I had only been a beautiful woman for less than 24 hours.

Hell, I wasn't even a woman 24 hours ago.

I was a 46-year-old man, a university lecturer and was definitely not beautiful. I was bald, doughy and missing two fingers on my left hand, not ugly but certainly no prize. I wiggled my fingers in front of my face, whatever the Dragons had done to me had given me 10 healthy fingers, perfect for giving businessmen vigorous hand-jobs.

O'Toole sat beside me, draping a comforting arm over my shoulder. "Things could be so much worse, Wally. Look on the bright side, you're young, intelligent and most importantly; you are free. You've been saved, man. You can do anything you want." He brushed a long strand of brown hair out of my eyes, it had been so long since I was able to grow hair, let alone hair long enough to come in front of my eyes.

Brendan O'Toole reminded me a lot of myself at his age. Outwardly he appeared invincible, nothing could slow him down but alone he was scared and very, very self-conscious. He had cried a lot in the dungeon, mostly provoked by the stories I had told him. No man wants to hear that in a matter of weeks he will be turned into a sex-craved bimbo. I had seen the men that had came before me and the women they were transformed in to. I was next and after me, O'Toole. But fate stepped in and O'Toole got to keep his 'tools', so to speak.

He was a scammer by trade, an 'entrepreneur' as he would tell you. He's the type that was always trying to make a quick buck and sometimes getting away with it. When it didn't work, however, he would simply run away. Of course, he couldn't run away from the Dragons and he found himself, like me trapped in a dungeon waiting to be transformed and relocated to 'The Farm'. My guess was that he was in his early to mid-twenties, although he never really told me. I now looked younger than him; my new female body was firm and fit like a body that had spent no more than 20 very healthy years on this planet. I was glad that O'Toole was with me. He seemed like a great guy. I looked into his eyes, they were warm and comforting like a crackling fire in winter.

"It's going to be OK," he told me and I wanted to believe him. I looked down to compare bodies. Both of our blankets were wide open. My large firm breasts were prominently on display. They were round, full and perky, just how everyone likes. If I was a 'normal' woman I may have blushed and pulled my blanket closed but I didn't mind. I had no emotional attachment to those soft and wobbly protuberances.

How I wished to have O'Toole's body, it was hairy, it was strong and it was masculine. Even after living off scraps for a fortnight O'Toole was still in great shape. His chest was firm and hairy and led down to a classic '6-pack'. He must have spent as much time in the gym as he did stealing people's money. With a slight glance further down I could even see his cock. He didn't cover it up as we had spent the last two weeks chained to walls, naked, facing each other. But only now did I notice how majestic his cock looked. I guess you really don't know what you've got until it's gone. O'Toole was the lucky one, he still had his body. He could still make tender love to a woman. He could take her in his manly arms and take control of the love making session. I had been robbed of that. I missed my cock already.

I was about to lament the loss of my favourite appendage so I turned to O'Toole. His eyes caught me off guard and I slipped and fell into them, sinking into their beautiful blueness. I moved closer to those eyes for a closer look, my unblanketed body touching his. Rubbing up against those scratchy blankets must have created a static charge because when my body touched his I felt a zap of electricity. I wanted O'Toole's body so bad that I could feel it. My heart pounded wildly as I reached out to grab it. I'm not sure what the plan was - whether I wanted to rip his skin off so that I could wear it or I wanted to rip out his brain - in either case I failed. All I did was move closer to him and kiss him.

That's right, I kissed him.

A deep and passionate kiss, like we were lovers reunited after months apart. I drew him towards me, exploring his mouth with my tongue. My body felt like it was on fire but a good type of fire. A kiss had never felt like this before and I wondered if anyone had ever felt this good before. A hand, mine in title only, traversed down O'Toole's rough body. The manly hairs felt good as they rushed between my fingertips. The hand landed in his warm lap.

Having had one for 46 years, I knew a men's body expertly and I knew where my fingers were heading but there was nothing I could do to stop it. My hand brushed against his manhood. Now I'm not sure why I did it but I do know that it surprised me. My hand slowly grasped it, entwining my fingers around its shaft. It felt thick, much thicker than mine but I wasn't in the right place to accurately judge. I wanted to look down to see whether this was happening or it was all my imagination but my lips remained stuck to his.

The van came to a stop as I felt the cock swell in my hand. Suddenly I had control of my body and mind again so I dropped his throbbing member like it was boiling hot. I groaned a little, like a wounded deer. My voice was sultry, something that had bugged me from the first time I opened my new mouth. "Sorry, I don't… know…" I spluttered.

His eyes darted around the van looking everywhere but in my eyes, "It's OK. Things must be… confusing for you."

They certainly were. I was rescued but there was no way of resuming my normal life. I was trapped inside a teenage boy's wet dream and didn't know what was going to happen next. I barely knew what had happened before.

The van's door swung open and immediately sunlight assaulted my eyes. "OK, come this way," someone instructed.

For the first time in three months, I was unchained.

Unchained and terrified.

****

Hello! The author here! If you’re reading this thanks so much for reading it all. This is a start of fortnightly novella. It'll be a little darker than 'Kate Draffen' was.

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anyhting about my stories, [email protected]

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I asked for a mirror and some clothes. They went to get me both, quickly too. It was weird to be treated so well after so long in the dungeon. I was waiting to be questioned or de-briefed or whatever they wanted to do to me. They gave me a glass of water and I sipped it nervously.

"It's so good to be free," O'Toole said, practically dancing. He had left his blanket on the bench and his cock swung around powerfully as he walked. I tried not to stare but my eyes were not cooperating. This body had needs and desires that I was quickly becoming aware of.

"Could you… put your blanket back on?" I asked O'Toole meekly.

"Huh?" he said, turning to face me.

I blushed and turned away as if I was staring at the sun, "Your body is… well, arousing mine." I hated my new body.

He nodded sombrely and donned the scratchy blanket, even though it was much too stuffy to wear a blanket in our little holding room.

O'Toole and I stared at each other from either side of the room. It was like the dungeon again, sitting and staring and not saying the things on our mind. I had already had been rescued from the chains, the cold stone floor and those weirdos, all I left to be rescued from was O'Toole and I was certain that we would so go our separate ways. Not that my body wanted that to happen. My body wanted him to pick me right then and there and have his way with me.

My pussy began to lubricate, awaiting the arrival of O'Toole firm appendage. My hand, now in my body's control, began to massage my labia. It was the very first time I had felt it, since I had been chained to a wall. It belonged to me. It felt so foreign and so familiar. I gasped in surprised but didn't stop. I wasn't sure I could stop. Those fucking Dragons had taken away my free will! I threw open my blanket and began stroking one of my nipples. It was hard and erect. I looked like a horny university girl, hamming it up for a web-cam or something. O'Toole watched on, with a look of interest mixed with despair.

"I'm sure they have ways of controlling your sex drive, Jane. You don't have to be a 'Farm-girl' the rest of your life," O'Toole said, his voice cutting the sounds of my moans.

I didn't deserve this, did I? I thought about all the bad things I did.

****

5 years before

I looked at my phone for like thirtieth time in a matter of minutes. There she was, posing for me, begging for me and wearing nothing but a pout. I had never felt so alive and crazy and devilish in my entire life. I know they say that life begins at 40 but as far as I was concerned my life had stalled by 30 and hadn't showed signs of movement for years. For all I knew I was in purgatory. But the introduction of Bliss in my life had recharged me with a vim and vigour I didn't know was inside me.

I know, her name is Bliss and that's a horrible name. She was product of hippies, the type of hippies that live in regional towns, start petitions over every little thing and make and sell organic soap at markets. The type of people that my wife and I used to quietly make fun while walking past, back when my wife was fun.

Bliss was fun and in no way a hippy. I guess the way to rebel against hippy parents is to come to the city and get a degree in commerce. And I guess the way to rebel against a boring wife and a boring life was to sleep with one of my accounting students.

19! She was 19! And she looked it too! So youthful and taut. Standing together we looked like a 'Before' and 'After' photo of a life of too much stress. I balding and tired while her long, red locks seemed to be the personification of vibrancy. I pulled her hair while I fucked her from behind and loved it. My wife's hair had always been far too short for that, not that I ever tried. Bliss begged me too, she was just that crazy.

I thought back to the first time I had sex with her. I gasped as I slid my eager cock into her, feeling the deep enchanting pull of her pussy. Bliss squealed in delight as if I was giving her an expensive present and we enthusiastically made love. It was the first time I had ever cheated on my wife and I drove home feeling so guilty. But Bliss felt so good, she was so tight and wet, it was like being reborn. But I didn't find God, I found the joy of sex.

What made me do it again that night was that the fact I didn't get caught the first time. Cheating was surprisingly easy. I might have cancelled our second rendezvous if I thought I was going to be found out but it was clear my wife didn't suspect a thing. I was being discreet, Bliss was keeping quiet, it was fun and so easy. Tonight, according to what I told my wife, I was attending a fundraiser from the university's film club. What I was really going to do was fuck a student.

Surprisingly after the first time, I felt little guilt. Now that seems terrible and I'll confess that it is terrible. I felt I had earned an affair; there was this entire sense of entitlement. My quite life of boredom and dependable routine was payment for the flurry of my excitement I was now enjoying. I had provided and cared for my family and now it was time to take care of me.

I pulled up at a red light and looked at my phone again. I was only five minutes from her house and thus only six minutes from being buried deep in her pussy. I felt the blood amass in my crotch, Bliss never failed to get me hard. And here I was thinking I had an impotence problem, seems like the cure for that is a 19-year-old plaything.

You have to love a girl who answers the door naked.

"Hi," she said coyly.

I expressed what was going through my mind, "I am the luckiest man in the world!"

"Come here and let me suck your cock!" she purred, pulling me inside and closing the door. My wife had never uttered those words to me. In fact she acted like fellatio was a chore, a chore that wasn't urgent. Bliss however sucked my cock with such glee like it was a sugary treat. Her big green eyes would look up at me seeking approval and I would nod.

What a great way to start a date, being dragged inside to have my cock dutifully serviced. This girl was something special and she made me feel alive. Alive and happy. After I had shot my load into her waiting mouth she undressed me, peeling off my clothes. "How was your day?" she asked after getting up off her knees.

"Good, good," I replied, "There's this hot little redhead in my class and she was wearing this little skirt. Very distracting," I gave Bliss a wolfish smile.

"Oh yeah? How did you ever keep your mind on the class?" she said as she ruffled what was left of my hair.

"It was tough, believe me, every time I took a breath she would spread her legs wide enough so that I could see her panties." Talking dirty was something I wasn't really familiar with but it was enchanting.

Bliss' long, twig-like fingers entangled my cock, grasping tightly and rubbing. "But she wasn't wearing any panties, was she?"

I gulped. I had never been so turned on in all my life. "No, you weren't." Bliss' eyes widened as she felt me 'awaken' in her hand. A wry smile crept onto her lips, she was in total control and she knew it.

"I've been a bad girl," she purred and bit my ear lobe.

"Oh yeah," I moaned.

"Aren't you going to punish me, Professor?" I always got a bit of a rush when anyone called me 'Professor', that time I nearly ejaculated.

"Huh?" I asked. My wife, nor any of my few conquests had ever asked to be punished. I always tried as hard as I could to make sure I never ever hurt them. Bliss, however, was not like any other girl I had ever had before.

"Naughty school girls, like me, should… No! MUST be spanked!" she said as she helped herself to whopping handfuls of my arse, "Or else we'll wont learn anything."

This was further than I've ever been before. I had lived my entire life on one side of the sexual experience: vanilla, boring, missionary, boy-atop-girl, sanctioned sex. Bliss stood before me, dangling the keys that unlocked a gate. A gate I had often gazed longingly at: spanking, minor bondage, dirty talk, oral, maybe even anal. Nothing too perverse, just stuff that 'other couples' would do. My wife would talk about these 'other couples' (on the rare occasions that she did) as though she pitied them. I looked at these 'other couples' with envy. They had the tools of excitement lying in front of them to spice up any night. All I had was the unimpressive question of, "How's your back feeling, honey? Feeling up to 'it' tonight?"

Bliss jangled the keys louder, "Spank me!"

Once I went through the gate I knew there was no going back.

"Bend over my knee, you dirty girl!"

****

This girl didn't feel like Bliss. Sure she was 19 and had long flowing red hair but it just wasn't the same. While it was plainly obvious that no two girls are exactly the same, it is ever more obvious when you are cock-deep inside them. Alicia just wasn't Bliss.

"Mmmm, that feels good, Mr. Jane!"

Even her dirty talk was boring. Bliss would call me 'Professor'. I grunted as I worked hard. That was the problem, fucking this girl felt like work. I grabbed her hips and pounded her pussy a little harder, she responded favourably.

Bliss was long gone. I had been searching for a replacement for a few years now, trying to recapture the excitement of the first girl, the first time. Each new school year I would eye off my hottest students, the ones with the longest legs and perkiest boobs and try and get them into my bed. If I was turned down, I would try the second most attractive one and so on. Let's just say Alicia was not my first pick. And I doubt I was hers too.

Fucking my students just wasn't that much fun anymore. A lot of the danger was gone now. My wife had discovered my philandering ways, I had become sloppy and hadn't covered my tracks well enough. She found out about my 'girls' and decided that I was a horrible man. Perhaps I was. I don't blame her for leaving, our only child was almost an adult and didn't need parenting from me anymore. So, I was alone, renting a shitty flat and chasing that empty feeling away with students, booze and the greyhounds.

I was bored. Work was unfulfilling, my home life was dreary and Alicia wasn't kinky enough for my liking. I could never find a girl as kinky as Bliss. But she outgrew me. Her words. She 'outgrew' me. Show me any 20-year-old girl more mature than a 44 academic. Well, she's 24 now, she was 20 when we parted ways. I hadn't seen her in years at yet could not stop thinking about her.

This girl wasn't any fun. I was just going through the motions. I wouldn't be satisfied unless things got a little more exciting. "I like it, I like it," Alicia whispered. How generic. What she needed was a hard firm spank, to throw a little danger into the mix. A small amount of pain can really double the pleasure. One of my hands, my good one, lifted high in the air. Maybe a swift spanking will kick start this girl. I felt the air gush between my fingers as my palm came crashing down on my round, soft, buttock.

"Ouch! What the fuck are you doing!?!"

Ah well, she wasn't that good anyway. I could still get to the track in time for the start of the greyhounds.

****

So, I wasn't the best man alive. So, I cheated, I gambled, I borrowed with no intention of returning. There were a lot of men far worst than me that received far less a punishment. There were murders out there walking around scot-free. And I had been turned into a 'Farm-Girl'. I now wore the body of a beautiful, sensual sex-slave. Lady Justice definitely had something against me.

My hands could not keep to themselves. I did not have enough free will to pull them away from my privates. I threw back my head and moaned, "Oh yes!" as my middle finger began to rub my clitoris. My hips began to involuntarily buck to maximise the pleasure, which made my boobs jiggle provocatively. I couldn't look at O'Toole I didn't want to see what he thought of such a display.

To be perfectly honest, it felt amazing. I didn't want it to stop. The pleasure felt powerful enough to run a whole city block. My 'Farm-Girl' body was responding to every little movement. I moaned loudly but didn't care who heard me, the pleasure was my only concern.

It began to build. I didn't think it was possible but it felt even better, more intense. I thought I heard O'Toole say something but it was just garble in my ears. My breathing quickened. My long, dainty finger, now covered in my own juices began to pump in and out at an alarming rate. "Fuck yes!"

"Fuck yes!"

"Oh yes!"

I hit my peak. An orgasm.

It felt incredible.

I basked in the glow of pure joy, hugging myself a little. I slid the finger out of my tight pussy. It was soaked in my juices but I didn't care. I would have cut that entire finger off it felt that good. I finally felt relaxed. That orgasm was precisely what I needed. 'Perhaps this body isn't my sworn enemy after all,' I thought. I quickly rethought that when I looked over at O'Toole and my first though was to give him a generous head job.

A squat and petite woman came in and delivered O'Toole and I some clothes. We were told it wouldn't be too long before our briefing, just a few more minutes. Atop my small pile of clean clothes was a little hand mirror. I hadn't seen my new face since the transformation and had no idea what I looked like. That's a very weird position to be in, not knowing what you look like, considering how much of a person's identity is based on what you look like. Whenever I thought about it I pictured my old, weathered, masculine face sitting atop of the gorgeous, young and utterly feminine body. The mirror would reveal the truth.

"Fuck," I cursed with my feminine voice. It was a curse of surprise and also of dread. Surprise, because I was more beautiful than I imagined and dread because I would have to live the rest of my life as the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

"What's wrong?" O'Toole asked me as his face emerged from his new T-shirt.

"I'm really, really hot," I sighed, defeated. I had hoped for an ugly, or even a plain looking face. I already knew my body was spectacular but I wished I was a bit of a 'butter face'. This exquisite body I could hide, underneath piles of baggy, dowdy clothes but my gorgeous face was on show for all to see.

My large brown eyes were the centrepiece of my face. They lit up the room, remarkably they were filled with both lust and innocence in a weird mix. My eyebrows were perfectly and seemingly naturally arched, making me look mischievous. I wriggled my little upturned nose, just to make sure the reflection was mine.

My inspection was interrupted by a now fully clothed O'Toole, "I'm sure there are worst fates than being a beautiful woman." He reached up and gave me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulders, brushing my luxuriously long brown hair out of the way. It felt nice to have someone touch my soft skin, I revelled in the way his warm hands felt on my bare skin. I had the fight the temptation to kiss him again. Luckily, O'Toole was on the page as me, "Come on, let's get you dressed."

He grabbed the plain white tee that was on top of the stack. "Arms up," he instructed me, like I was a petulant child he was dressing. I complied, but only because I didn't want to get into a fight with him or kiss him. He pulled the cotton shirt passed my hands, over my head and down over my expansive chest. Accidentally, his hands brushed past my nipple and I got a burst of pleasure. I'm sure most women aren't catapulted in a bliss frenzy when their nipples are grazed, but I am a 'Farm-Girl' and built for giving and receiving pleasure.

"Oh!" I excitedly moaned, my hands leaping up to massage my now erect nipples through their cotton confines, "That felt good!"

"Let's keep our goal in mind, Wallace." O'Toole usually called me by my last name, Jane, but since I became a real 'Jane' he'd been calling me by my seldom used first name. "Step into these."

Panties. That's what he held out - white, little, cotton panties. No room in them for a penis or testicles. Sure there was a little more room in the back, but that was for a female's more ample behind. I took them for him. I was stable enough to put on my own underwear. My legs were annoyingly long, I felt I was tugging them up forever. I was always a leg-man and now I was a leggy woman, karma or some such was surely at play. The panties came to rest at the top of my legs, where my privates lay.

The navy blue sweat pants were the most colourful item in my ensemble but that wasn't saying much. I pulled them over my long legs once more and past my wide hips. It was rudimentary, but I was dressed. O'Toole was dressed in identical attire, except he wore underwear and not 'panties'. It felt good to be dressed, it certainly decrease my immense sexual urges, if only because there was layer of clothes between me and making love. My nipples however made their presence known, poking through and rubbing sensually against their cotton captures.

But I was dressed and that made me feel much more like a real human than I had for the last 3 months.

"They're ready for you, ma'm," said the short squat woman who motioned for me. I took a deep breath, watching my large breasts expand and started towards the door.

I walked down the winding corridors. The floor was cold on my bare feet, I had not been provided with shoes yet. "Just through there, ma'm," she told me.

I tentatively opened the door. "Hello?" I asked as I peeked in.

Inside, sat a beautiful woman. A woman I knew.

****

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anything about my stories, [email protected]

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Come in and sit down, Mr. Jane," said one beautiful woman to another.

I knew this woman. And I knew the man that she used to be. But I kept quiet, I wanted answers but I knew I wouldn't need to demand them. I sat down across from my interviewers, my new ample rear acting like a cushion on the hard wooden seat.

"Now we're going to the be recording this interview if that's OK with you?"

I nodded.

"OK, can you tell us who you are?"

"Wallace Marion Jane." I hated my name, two girly name out of three. I was teased a lot at school and often retaliated. I spent more than my share of time at the Principal's office. Sadly, I guess the girly names kind of fitted now.

"Occupation?"

"University Lecturer."

"Date of birth?"

I gave them my date of birth, 46 years ago. I didn't look 46, I looked my like parents could be 46.

"Well, Mr. Jane," began the woman, "Do you remember me?"

"Yes, you and me were trapped in the dungeon together. You were 'farmed-out' about a month ago, right Mr. Hedgpeth?" I chose to call her 'Mr.' mainly because I wanted to be called 'Mr.'. The soft, feminine genitals nestled between my legs would try and ruin being called 'Mr.' but I would fight that.

She softly smiled at me. I remembered the first time I saw her. She wasn't smiling.

***

I awoke to wailing. Long, loud, sorrowful wailing. It was hauntingly loud and getting louder. I dug my fingernails into the floor - Hedgpeth was returning. The Dragons had grabbed him a while ago to take him away. He kicked and screamed and shouted and flailed about. He did not go quietly, unlike Lil' John who we both had watched being taken away last month. Lil' John seemed defeated, Hedgpeth still had to fight left in him. I doubted that I would fight when it was my time, there was just no use.

The wailing didn't sound like Hedgpeth but I was sure it was him. After the guards take you away, you come back different. I didn't recognise Lil' John at all but I convinced the naked woman chained up across from me was him. Even though she was much taller and a lot skinnier and her skin was the colour of milk instead the colour of chocolate, that was Lil' John.

The huge dungeon doors creaked open. I took a sharp breath in. The door obscured my vision so I didn't see Hedgpeth right away. It was apparent she didn't want to be chained up again. I saw a foot, a thin, petite, delicate foot flailing about. The woman was definitely fought like Hedgpeth. "No, no, no, no, no, no!" she cried as three men dragged her towards her chains. The men didn't respond or grant her the request because they flung her to the ground. She must be so light because she flew through the air, crumpling on the ground as she hit it.

"Hey!" I spoke up - even though I was terrified, "Go easy on her!" They didn't listen to me either and they held her against the wall. The chains rattled with extra menace as they chained the woman who used to be Hedgpeth to the wall.

"No, no, no, not the chains, no, no, no," she whimpered as they shackled her in place.

The Dragons rarely said anything, I'm not sure why. Maybe they thought that remaining silent they would seem a lot more threatening and they were right. Or maybe being quiet was just a tenet of the faith. But this time, one of the guards spoke up, "Don't worry. You wont be chained for too long 'Farm Girls' as beautiful as you are sold as soon we put your sexy little picture up."

"You'll be outside, sucking your 'husband's' cock in one day, max!" laughed another guard.

The third guard leered at the naked woman, his eyes caressing every curve of her lithe, little body. "I'd buy her, if I could afford her," he commented as they walked away, "Maybe I can just borrow her!" They laughed, showing no remorse about the thought of raping a defenseless woman.

She cried and I let her. She had been through a lot and my empty reassurances wouldn't make her feel any better. Truth be told, I cried a little too. My turn would probably be in a month's time and there was nothing I could do about it. I would be a 'Farm-Girl' ready to be sold to a rich man in need of a fuck machine.

My mind wandered over to the idea of having sex with Hedgpeth. I know that it shouldn't but I was going crazy down in that dungeon and I would often think some pretty fucked up things. The woman he had become was ravishing. Even though she was wailing and sobbing, it was obvious that she was a beauty, a petite Asian beauty. I had never really much of an Asian fantasy but the chains were one of the only things that kept me from consuming my new-found fetish.

"Are you in pain?" Somehow logic won out and I found myself asking a sensible question.

"It really happened…" Hedgpeth was obviously in denial like me, "I don't deserve this…" she gestured to her shapely form, as the chains clanged, "I'm not even a gambler!"

Chances are if you end up in the Dragon's dungeon, you've at least 'dabbled' in losing vast amounts of money.

"Did it hurt?" I asked, mainly for myself.

"Yeah, but it doesn't anymore. But during their sick celebrations, it was the most painful thing in my life. They cheered as my cock shrunk. Sick fucking bastards!" It was terrifying to hear such horrible words coming out of such a beautiful voice.

"You're Asian, you know?"

"Yeah," she sighed, resigned, "I know. I saw my reflection." She slumped to the ground the chains clanging with every move. "This wasn't supposed to happen!" she bemoaned.

Hedgpeth wasn't Asian originally, he was tall, rough looking guy who looked like he could look after himself in a fight. Now it looked like he was so fragile that one punch would knock him into next week. Who would want to punch someone so beautiful is a different question altogether. She looked like a beautiful china doll who had found a way to become a real girl and then decided to amp up the sexiness.

I know it sounds sick, but I couldn't help but revel a little bit in how sexy Hedgpeth had become. Staring at stone walls, chains and naked guys for 2 months straight gets a little boring, so a beautiful naked Asian woman was a nice change of scenery. My cock began to stiffen but I hid it from Hedgpeth out of respect.

"I can see why Lil' John did what he did now. Farm-girls are built for sex, Jane… I feel so turned on now." The girl in front of me began to caress her new body and I couldn't stop watching. A hand leapt to one of her small yet exquisite breasts and squeezed it passionately. The clatter of chains and Hedgpeth's excited moan echoed off the walls of the prison. She bit down on her lip hard and flung her hand off her chest as if it was boiling hot. "Sorry," she mumbled looking anywhere but my face or her own body, "I'm not in complete control here."

I was a little upset that I wasn't going to get my own private show and a little ashamed that I was a little upset. The sexy Asian Hedgpeth was easily one of the sexiest women I had ever seen in the flesh and aside from Lil' John's new form, the sexiest I had ever seen naked. Her little nipples stuck out like little pencil erasers as she steadied her breaths. "I hope you get out soon," she whispered.

"Me too," I said, even quieter than her.

She looked at her own hands with a wonder I had never seen in someone looking at their own hands. I looked at mine, still missing two fingers on my left hand, everything fine. "I don't… want to be the little cock-sucking wife of the highest bidder," Hedgpeth's meek little voice sounded close to crying.

I watched the thought of being sold off as a sex-slave bounce around in her mind. It truly terrified her… but only for just a moment. But then something offset the terror and she suddenly didn't look so scared. She looked disgusted but a little pleased too, "Kneeling before some old man mindlessly sucking away." I'm not sure if she was aware of it but slowly she went from sitting down to a kneeling position. "Taking as much of his thick cock inside my mouth as possible." Her fingers disappeared from view between her legs as she stroked her new equipment. She closed her eyes and her plump bottom lip fell open.

"Hedgpeth," I tried to wake her from her trance.

"It feels so good," she confessed in a breathy moan, "I can't stop." The chains rattled gently as she stroked her pussy with one hand and caressed her breasts with the other. She was putting on a show for me and couldn't care. The unforgettable smell of an excited woman wafted through the air and tickled my nose. Hedgpeth was exceptionally wet and it was turning me on. She moaned gently to herself arched her back. I had seen my share of women enjoying themselves sexually (in person and on video) and Hedgpeth was putting those lifelong veterans to shame.

It wasn't too long before she started making little squeals at the start of each breath and the rattling of the chains became louder as her excretions became more intense. I bit my lip as I watched this delicate little flower ravishing herself, bucking and thrusting as she fingered her wet pussy. I shouldn't be privy to this sort of display and I wondered when I became a 'Farm-girl' whether or not I'd be able to hold back.

"Fuck!" she moaned as she climaxed, her dainty fingers still pumping in and out. She looked truly blissful for a moment. Her dreamy gaze met mine and we shared a look. She didn't need to say what she was thinking for me to understand; that felt really good. She removed her two fingers from her delicate pink slit, they were wet with her juices. Her hand seemed to catch her eye and she studied it for a second. Before today, Hedgpeth's hand was large, with bulbous hairy knuckles like knots in an old rope now the hands were elegant, pristine and so small. The comparison was not lost on Hedgpeth who collapsed in a heap and began to cry.

The next day Hedgpeth was sold and taken out of the dungeon.

My time would be soon.

***

We stared at each other, two exquisite women with bodies to die for. She was so beautiful that I felt my nether regions grow warm and appealing damp.

"As you might have guessed, I'm a cop," Hedgpeth revealed, leaning in towards me. I had guessed, but only because we were in a police station and she was on the other side of the desk. "I was working undercover, investigating the Dragons and their little slavery ring. Mistakes were made and my cover was blown and that's how I found myself in our cosy little living quarters with you."

The Dragons, my captors, were known to only the lowliest of people. They operated in the worst parts of the worst parts of town, dealing with the very worst and most desperate of people. They dabbled anything in destroying lives and creating misery; drugs, gambling, loan sharking and the infamous 'Farm-girls'. They are so secretive that you don't find them to help you ruin your life; they find you. I was approached by a heavily tattooed guy at the lowest ebb of my life, I needed money bad and he was there to offer it to me.

It started there.

Turned out that one of his tattoos was a particular Dragon. I would lose two fingers and then my male body thanks to that tattooed man and his 'affordable' loan.

Hedgpeth folded her petite hands together. She was still one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen and the way her décolletage was displayed was somewhat mesmerising. "Unfortunately, I never could solve the mystery of the 'Farm-girls' until I was a part of it directly. To anyone but the highest ranking Dragons, the 'Farm-girls' just appear out of nowhere."

"What the fuck was that thing?" I asked and she knew exactly what I was talking about.

She furrowed her brow. "I don't know," she told me. I think what worried us both was that we considered ourselves to be smart men and smart men don't believe in magic. Children and fools believe in magic. But whatever had changed us into these vision of sex personified had nothing at all to do with science. "I don't know," she repeated, "But I'm going to find out."

I coughed a little and asked, "Can I have a glass of water please?" One of the men nodded and stood up. Repulsively, my eyes shot straight to his crotch where I could the faint outline of his thick hose and they followed him out of the room. I looked back at Hedgpeth who had obviously had been doing the same. "So what happened to you after they dragged you away?" I asked, "I thought I was never going to see you again."

"I was sold to a man, Charles Hargraves, a luxury car dealer who lived on a farm not too far out of the city. To bind you to the buyer the Dragons make you drink a vial of your owner's blood, after that you're addicted to them. I mean, I would have done anything for him. I couldn't help myself. He told me to clean his house naked with just a toothbrush and I did. His whole fucking mansion! I just couldn't stop and that was one of the nicer things he made me do. You just can't disobey." Her eyes glazed over as horrible thoughts washed over her.

I folded my arms underneath my expansive boobs. "But you escaped? How did you escape?"

"I fucked him so hard he had a heart attack," she told me bluntly as anger danced in her eyes, "And when he died I didn't feel the bond anymore. I was free, so I just ran. That was four days ago"

Four days? I scrunched up my eyes. My emotions were all over the place. "Why the fuck couldn't have you saved me yesterday then? I was still me yesterday! Or the two days before that?" Some of my long brunette hair came flying in front of my eyes mid-rage, I yanked it back behind my ear so hard that it hurt.

"Don't you think I wanted to, Jane? I ran back here as fast as I could, barefoot, wearing nothing but my underwear. I cut my feet up bad. I knew I only had a few days to save you. I knew the moon would be full soon," her hair too was a flurry of movement as she fought back. She wasn't yelling at me as much as she was conveying every one of her emotions at an alarming rate. "It wasn't easy convincing anyone that I used to be Arnold Graham Hedgepeth. Do I like anything like a used to?"

"No," I replied.

"No, it wasn't easy convincing anyone of who I was, especially when I act the way I sometimes do. It sickens me the things I do now but this body gets so aroused." The cop bringing in the water, did so, trying to make as little disturbance as possible. "I had a barrage of tests and psychologists analyzing me before they even entertained the thought of me being me. I'm pretty sure that still some of them don't believe me. Only then could we organize a bust on the Dragon's haunt, I did the best I could. Just be glad we got to you before you were sold off." I contemplated being some businessman's cock-sucking slave, I was glad to be spared that fate. "You were probably only hours away from being bought."

"Sorry," I said meekly, "I can't imagine the things you went through to save me."

"Don't even try to imagine them." The chill went through the room. Two of the most beautiful women in the whole city, a sexy Japanese girl and a leggy, busty brunette, stared at each other for what seemed forever.

"Tell us everything, Mr. Jane," said one of the other cops, "We need to know everything."

***

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anything about my stories, [email protected]

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I told the police absolutely everything. Hedgpeth had already heard a lot of it and was a direct witness to more than a large portion of the story. As my traumatic tale unfolded, I couldn't help but notice how sultry my new voice was. Even though I was telling a story of absolute horror I still sounded alluring, like a purring cat.

The hands on the plain white clock circled around the face as I talked for over an hour. Sometimes one of my interviewers would interrupt and I would answer their question and then continue. I just couldn't be stopped, detail upon detail, a sad story about a wreck of a man who entered a dungeon and emerged a beautiful but hollow fuck toy. When the story had finished unfolding, the details all revealed and my throat parched I looked at my new, friendly captors and said, "I guess you help me with the rest of the story, right?" As I leant back in my chair could feel the weight of the large breasts attached to me shift.

Hedgpeth told me, "Of course, we're not going to dump you on the street like a common whore." I shuddered at the thought of me in this body walking the street, I was so horny that I probably wouldn't even ask for money.

"Do you know if this magic stuff can be reversed?" I asked hopefully. I felt a little goofy talking about magic but I wanted my pussy and the urge to put things into it to disappear.

"I hope so." It appeared that the very sexy Asian girl in front of me did not want to be a very sexy Asian girl. "After we've finished, I'm going to interrogate some of the Dragons we've arrested and we'll see if they'll talk."

That didn't fill me with confidence. A covert organization that runs on the most secret of secrets wouldn't let their members just cough up all their mysteries just like that. I squeezed my thighs together and felt the expected emptiness. "So, I'm going to be like this for the foreseeable future, aren't I?" I asked. While I enjoyed being in the presence of a beautiful woman, this was a different thing entirely. Especially since I could feel the urge to bed a man creeping up on me.

"I'm afraid so," frowned the young girl, "Don't fret we're going to set you up with some accommodation, money and we're working on getting you an identity."

Finally some good new in this whole dilemma; Prof. Jane had more than his share of debt collectors banging down the door, Miss Jane would have no such problem. It seemed like an unfair trade-off though and I would have happily traded back. For the moment I was stuck in my feminine prison. "So, I've just got sit around and hope for some miracle cure? This body is a little too…" I chose my next word carefully, "…excitable… to sit still for long." It seemed Farm-girls were bred especially horny, a desired trait for a sex slave but not for a 'regular' human being. I thought about what I would have to do soon if left up to my own devices. I didn't want to go down that road and act like the Farm-girl I now was.

"It's not going to be easy, Wallace. My advice to you is to cooperate with your new body, fighting it is impossible," Hedgpeth sounded defeated. I couldn't imagine the horrible things she had done and didn't want to picture the disgusting things I probably would.

"Oh…" I said, a little stuck for words. Hedgpeth motioned to the other lawmen and they quietly packed up their things.

Hedgpeth wriggled in her swivel chair, swinging around as she tried to get comfortable. "I've tried fighting it. I can't help myself," she said.

"How often do you…?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Bare minium for me…" she took a breath, "Once a day." I shuddered, thinking about my fate. "The urges just get too much, you can't help yourself. The sicko who owned me would fuck me usually twice a day; once just after he got home from work and once more around midnight. But once he went away for a weekend without me and I almost went crazy masturbating."

"Didn't it help?" I gulped.

"Only a little bit and it got less effective each time. By the end of the weekend I was crying on my bed because I physically couldn't keep from pumping my fingers in and out of my vagina…"

'My vagina', it was weird to hear Hedgpeth say that. But it was true and I could say the same thing. "My vagina.' I had one now, I could feel its presence between my thighs. I didn't know much about my vagina, except that I really didn't want ownership of it at all.

"What do you do now you're free?" I asked.

"Bars. That's where I've gone the last couple of nights. I've drunk myself stupid and then gone home with whoever talks to me first. Been free for four nights now, I've woken up in my own bed only once."

That sounded horrible. I made silent promise to myself to make sure I always woke up in my own bed. Surely, there was a better fix than trawling for bar scum every night. "Won't any guys from the force, you know… help you out?" I suggested. My body seemed plenty attracted to the men that were in the room moments ago and my guess was that Hedpeth's body was too.

Hedgpeth cast her stare down at the table, avoiding my eyes. "I'd never ask them. I don't know how'd you feel about it but I would rather strangers scratch that itch for me, rather than anyone I know."

"Yeah, but don't you have to put on a show? Make up a fake name and story, flirt with them, pretend you like them, make chit-chat on the way back to their place? Wouldn't it be easier to find someone you trust and have them take you into the back room once a day?" Just talking about being ravaged in the back room got my body excited and without my permission a hand came up and lightly caressed am erect nipple before I could take control and put my hand back down.

"I would rather go through that whole slutty process than have some one I respect discover just how much this body controls me. I don't know about you but strangers are the only way for me. No same guy twice either. I'm not looking for a boyfriend, it's just this body is addicting to fucking."

"So, what am I supposed to do now with my life? I can't exactly go back to teaching when I look the same age as the students. And it's not like I have a cent to my name either." My gambling debts had cost me pretty much everything, if I had the money to pay back the Dragons I wouldn't be in this body.

Hedpeth perfectly white teeth were displayed in an adorable smile, she was happy about something. "Don't worry, there's actually good news there. I've been able to set you up with a pretty sweet deal: your own furnished apartment, sixty grand a year tax-free, identity documents… It's basically the perks of a good witness protection deal."

She was right, that news made me happy. For the past few years the problem of not having enough money weighed on my shoulders every hour of every day, it was one of the reasons I couldn't stop gambling. People often dreamed about winning that one big race and buying a house or a holiday, I dreamed of winning big and paying off the debtors. As long as I didn't get stuck in that world of gambling again, I would be fine money-wise. "So, you've already found me a place? You guys work pretty fast."

The light glinted off of Hedgpeth's long, black hair, she might not want to be but she was truly beautiful. "Well, if we don't have it now we should have it by the end of the day. It won't be much, probably just a small apartment in the city."

"That sounds fine to me," I sighed. I didn't like my new voice, everything I now said seemed to have an underlying sexual meaning. My voice was so sultry that I could probably get men off just by reading the phone book. Do it in a low cut top and I'm sure most guys wouldn't last the first page.

We discussed the details a little more as the day wore on. She asked me to choose a name for the identity papers. Partly out of laziness and partly out of the need to still be me, I simply reversed my name: Wallace Marion Jane was now Jane Marion Wallace. "Have you changed you name yet, Hedgpeth?"

"I'm putting in my papers today too. I think I'm going to go for Sam," she told me.

The Asian girl in front of me had just revealed that she was going to changed her name to Sam. That seemed weird. "Sam? Not going for something more race appropriate like Yuki or something?"

"I know my body is Japanese or something but I don't care. I'm not up for playing into any guy's Asian schoolgirl fantasy. Sam is a simple unisex name and that's all that matters to me!" I had struck a nerve with the man inside the young Asian beauty.

"Sorry," I apologised, "I didn't mean to…"

"It's OK. This whole thing has just got me a little on edge. My 'owner' called me Aiko and made me act totally submissive. When I was lucky enough to wear clothes, I was always dressed like a schoolgirl." I had forgotten that Hedgpeth had actually spent time as a slave. I couldn't imagine the things she had probably done and it probably made her sick to think about.

"So, I'm now Detective Sam Smith, 24 years-old."

24 was a stretch, she really didn't look any older than 17. "Hi Sam," I declared, "I guess my name is Jane Wallace and I'm…."

"21?" was Hegpeth's ventured guess.

"and I'm 21," I confirmed. 21? I was now younger than my own son. I took a short, sharp breath and thought about that bizarre fact. I could hypothetically be my own son's girlfriend, although that repulsed me I knew that would never happen because-

A) I would do everything in my power to stop my body doing that.
and
B) I was way too hot for a guy like him.

The girl who used to be Arnold Hedgpeth stood up and stretched. Her waist high business pants hung close to her body and I could see her delightfully firm and round posterior. I was happy to know that at least this body didn't rob me of my love of the female form, even though my innate yearning for men was more present in my mind. "Let's get you to you new home, so you can rest. A bed feels so much better than a dungeon floor."

Many nights I had spent half asleep dreaming of sleeping in an actual bed while I was a prisoner. On the rare occasion that a fellow prisoner would talk about the things he missed on the outside, the bed was always number one.

I stood beside Sam and awkwardly adjusted my clothes. It felt like the material was hugging my body in odd ways. This was because I now had dramatic curves that my clothes were trying cover and also because I hadn't wore clothes in months. The guards had stripped me naked on my first day in the dungeon. As was the case with a lot of young Asian girls; Sam was short. Not midget small, probably around 5'3 but she was quite tall back before the transformation. I hadn't fared to badly in the height department, from 5'10 down to a respectable 5'7. If I ever felt short and found it depressing, I could conceivably put on some heels.

The corridor was empty as we both marched to the car park. Sam, despite her diminutive size, moved at quite a pace. I made my best attempt to keep beside her but that speed made my unrestrained chest bounce noticeably. It was now apparent to me how necessary wearing a brassiere would be in this body. I took stock of my surroundings, just happy to be out of the dungeon. "What about O'Toole?" I asked about my co-captor as we walked passed the holding room where he had dressed me.

"I'll interview him and then release him too," Sam responded in her professional manner. Looking at her it was obvious that she was wearing a bra and that her smallish breasts were much less deserving of a bra than my sizable knockers. Crossing my arms underneath my chest seemed to help.

"Could you give him my new contact details. He's been really good at…. Taking care of me, you know?" I tried to convey it in my voice that I did not mean that sexually, although I did let my wander just a bit. A large part of me could felt really hungry for O'Toole's thick cock.

"Of course, we're going to give you as much support as you want, Jane." I tensed a bit at hearing my name, knowing that she was calling me by my new first name and not my old last name.

"Thanks, I know it's going to be easy but I want to see how much I can cope with on my own. That is to say that I don't want any psychologist or anything like that. But I still want to be in contact with you, since you're going through the same things as I am."

The day wouldn't end even though the clock swore it was only noon. Before I could go I had to I sign some papers; a rental lease for my apartment, a phone contract for my new phone, bank forms for a new account and papers to get my brand new identity. My name was now Jane Marion Wallace and as of that day I was 21 years old. I liked that my new birthday was the day of my release, it made my redemption feel even more important.

As Sam got to the bottom of the stack of papers she said, "Do you want us to organise a personal shopper for you? By this evening we can have a complete wardrobe for you without you even entering a store."

Clothes, I hadn't really thought about them. It was the things I was going to do with my clothes off that were circling my thoughts. I didn't want to be trawling the clothes stores trying to find the skimpiest shorts and most revealing tops when I could be at home, terrified of the slut I had became. "That would be great," I sighed.

Other people were going to select my look, that was fine by me. As a man I had no definitive style and always found clothes shopping to be an absolute bore. I should have got a personal shopper for me when I was male, that would have saved me a lot of shopping. I could go home, have a much needed sleep and when I awoke I could have all my clothes provided.

"Just no dresses," I sighed. I was a slave to this body but I didn't have to be a slave to women's fashion. While a dreaded bra was necessary, dresses and skirts were not. They would only serve to show off my long legs and attract unwanted attention. My part of my mind deep down began to object, it seemed to believe that there was no such thing as 'unwanted' attention from men. In fact, to more attention paid to this amazing the better. My mind was flooded by a torrent midriff-exposing tops, mini-skirts and clingy dresses that show off the curves I had acquired. "No," I objected to my previous statement, "dresses are OK. Just write down… that I'm proud of my and I want to… show it off." I bit my lip as if I had just said to most disgusting thing in my life. My new cheeks were flush with shame.

"It's OK," Sam rubbed my arm, "I feel the same way. You can't help it."

I just wanted to dress sexy. I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Sam measured me and called out crazy numbers, numbers that would impress any model. Images of sexy night club wear and lingerie flickered in my mind. My body was built for perfection; a narrow waist nestled between a large set of tits and an ample but well toned ass. The number Sam wrote down for my bust made my head spin, quantifying their size only made them seem bigger and more real.

The car ride was silent. Not only was there no talking going on between Sam and I but also the outside world seemed to be 'keeping it down'. The traffic was busy, meaning the trip that would have took about 20 minutes to walk took about 20 minutes to drive. I stared out the window at a city I knew well, despite it having never met 'the new me'. I wondered how this city I loved would treat Miss Wallace and her urges. Even looking at men through the car window, businessmen, funky students, fat construction workers, made my pussy twitch. Sam was right; I would have to indulge my urges soon. But, luckily, I was more tired than horny.

I knew the address where Sam was taking me but I didn't quite understand how relevant it was to me. I blame my ignorance on how tired I was but I was surprised when the car came to a stop. "I work here," I yelped staring at the university. The truth was I used to work there. My classes would be quite confused if the sexy, lithe Miss Wallace walked into the lecture hall instead of Professor Jane, ready to talk about business ethics.

"You live there," Sam stated as she gestured to an apartment block across the road from the building I had spent the last 20 in. It was an apartment building for student with rich parents, international students and trendy urban professionals. At the current moment, I didn't fit any of those groups. Sam handed me a key and I opened the car door. The sounds of the street were familiar and immediately comforting like a warm hug. Despite not even entering the building for the first time yet, it felt a little bit like home.

"Come on," Sam ushered me towards the door, "You're on the sixth floor." I trundled behind Sam, noticing the way my hips shifted as I walked. The lobby was nice but simple leading to two elevators. "Level 6, Apartment H," I was told as I was handed the keys by a beautiful woman, "I'll be back to check on you later today. Make sure to charge your phone." I nodded sleepily. "Go," she encouraged, "Go and get some sleep."

Luckily the elevator was empty, I was neither awake enough nor prepared enough to pretend to be Jane. Being Jane would be something I had to plan. Where I had come from? Why I was here? Those were questions I had to think about. I would think about them after I had a sleep. The lure of a sleep inside a real bed was just too much. I almost floated down the hall to my new home. The bed was calling out its siren song to me. Apartments D, E, F all were put behind me as I reached the end of the corridor where G and H were. I was going to be locked away from the world once more but this time by choice. My long, feminine fingers gripped the key and fed it into the lock. There was a noise behind me as I turned the key.

"Oh hi," said a pretty voice, "Have you just moved in?"

I panicked. I wasn't ready to talk to people about who I was yet since I didn't really know who I was. I jiggled the keys and opened the door before turning to my neighbour. "Yeah, my name is Jane," I spun around to exchange the rest of the pleasantries, "How are…"

I stopped mid-sentence. Luckily, my new neighbour didn't notice anything weird.

"I'm good, thanks. My name is Bliss."

***

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anything about my stories, [email protected]

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"My name is Bliss."

Fuck.

"I'm Jane."

Fuck.

"You said that."

Fuck.

"I'm new," I spat out, "I'm Jane and I'm new."

The girl who at a time thrilled at being called my 'mistress' ("How adult!" she'd say) stared at the girl I had become. I recognized some amusement, bafflement, a tiny amount of concern and maybe some jealousy. I was now in the strange situation of having a curvier body than my ex-mistress, I slouched over a little bit, suddenly self-conscious of my big breasts that dwarfed Bliss' efforts. It had been a few years since I had stared into those eyes, those green eyes with the little flecks of gold. I had missed them.

***

We lay there naked for hours. In this little world of our clothes weren't the necessity they were to the people on the outside. In this little world of two the rules had changed, clothes were only for greeting room service and even then the hotel bathrobe would suffice.

I was experiencing the greatest thing in the entire world. Two words: work conference.

A weekend away from the wife and the perfect excuse to steal my mistress away for three whole nights of fucking, I couldn't have been happier. I hadn't even been to the conference yet, except to sign in, I had simply fucked my star pupil and ordered room service.

Bliss slinked around the room, dancing her fingers off of picture frames and bed knobs. One of the many things I loved about her was her inability to sit still, she would wriggle and fuss about all the time like an excitable puppy. "First major purchase after I graduate," she planned in front of the mirror, "Boobs." She groped two huge and imaginary breasts inches in front of her own modest pair.

"Yeah, that would really piss your parents off," I laughed as I rolled over and opened my newspaper.

Without taking her eyes off her reflection she scolded me. "Don't laugh at me, Wallace, I'm going to do it. I'm going to trade in these mosquito bites for a big, fake pair of jugs!"

I was suddenly scared that she would go through with it. Bliss did not like being told what to do, it was like she got off on disobeying orders, no matter how sensible the orders were. Hell, I'm sure that one of the reasons she was with me, her balding, doughy Business Ethics Professor was because everyone else in the world would tell her not to. A little part of me was excited though, Bliss was fairly flat and so was my wife. I had never had the chance to play with a large, bouncy pair of breasts and I wanted to desperately. Bliss with medium-large tits would look amazing; she already had the adorable face, the long red hair and the lithe dancer's body, her small boobs was her one weak spot. I had to choose my answer carefully.

In the end my conscience had a rare win over my lust. "No, don't wreck your body like that. You are so fucking sexy already without stuffing a bunch of silicone in your chest." I liked that I could call her 'fucking sexy', if I ever called my frigid wife that she would either yell at me or cry.

"OK," she shrugged as if my softly spoken argument had won her over. Damn it! I had hoped that my speech might have had the opposite effect on her. Bliss pounced on the bed and straddled me, her freshly shaved pussy pressing against my hairy stomach. "I'm bored. Wanna fuck?" I loved her spontaneity but worried that if I couldn't keep with her that she would move on.

"We just finished fucking," I told her, while secretly urging my cock to harden.

"That was like half an hour ago!" Actually it was closer to an hour but I wasn't going to tell her that. Her long red locks dangled over me and seemed almost pink with the light shining through it.

"Poor old Professor," she mocked as she slid down to the end of the bed and leant over. She held my limp cock in her fingers, "Is Lil' Professor too tired?" Her soft touch gave my spent cock an exciting tingle. Maybe I wasn't completely tapped. She brought her lips down and began to gently suck my member. Immediately I was hard a diamonds again. "Oooh Professor, maybe you're not so old!"

My life was great.

***

The silence between Bliss and the new me last only a few seconds but just enough to give the impression to Bliss that either I was an idiot or a crushing bore. "Well, I'm off to the gym," she told me as she adjusted the strap of her gym bag, "Welcome to the building, Jane."

"Bye," I called out. Quick! I needed something else to keep her here! "Know any cool bars around here? I'm new here." I'm not sure why I was desperate to talk to Bliss but I think it was because she was the only old and normal thing in a world of the new and strange.

"Oh, fresh meat, huh?" she let out an impish laugh, "You attending across the road?" I nodded even though I am not sure why. "Oh, the boys are going to love you! What are you studying?"

"Business," I blurted out.

"Hey, you're in luck you are actually talking to a business graduate. Lucky you! You are so damn lucky!" she joked, "Top of my class actually, and look at me now! …Still in the same apartment as before I graduated working at a place that gives me less money than my old high-school job. Going to bar actually seems pretty good now too!" I tensed, I wasn't ready for a jaunt to a bar with my ex-mistress in my highly charged body. I wanted my inevitable first time to be quick, scientific and free of people I used to know.

"I've got a thing tonight, you know, a thing but how about we go out tomorrow night? Show you around town, chase some cute guys around?" Bliss was a generally friendly person, I never knew anyone with as many genuine friendships as Bliss.

"Ummm… sure!" I chirped, not sure why any of this was coming out of my mouth.

"10, tomorrow night, I know where you live, kiddo! OK, off to the gym now new girl! See ya later!" and with not much more than that she disappeared out of my life again, this time, however with a guarantee to return.

Using my new legs I took a tentative step into the place I would call home now (for at least a little bit). It wasn't a mansion, nor did I think it would be. It was what it purported to be: a nice, middle-of-the-range, student and young adult furnished apartment. The couch was new and lime green, the kitchen was small but cosy, the desk looked like an Ikea as did most of the other furnishing. There was no bathtub but there was a large shower. A perfect house for one person, a couple would always be under each other's feet, so it would only suit the youngest and strongest relationships. It was clean and lacked that indescribable something that made a house a home - the touches I would have to bring to it.

Perhaps on purpose, the bedroom was the nicest place in the house. The black and white chequered curtains matched the bedspread on the large King sized bed. The bedside table hosted an alarm clock and lamp on top of it. This was my apartment, my new home, my sex den. It was a lot nicer than the dungeon, but I wasn't fool I was just as much a prisoner. I could feel the urges build up and for a second I contemplated running onto the street and dragging the first man I see back to my lair. I shook my head hard to destroy those thoughts.

"Oh Wallace, what have you got yourself into?" I sighed as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had talked myself a lot but this time the voice was very different. "Let's have a look see at what we're working with here," I said as I undressed in front of the mirror.

I was a busty girl, that much was obvious. It was a fact obvious to anyone who saw me. Big, full breasts jutted proudly from my chest as an unwanted testament to femininity. It was weird looking at my own breasts in the mirror, it actually made it feel more real than when I just looked down at them. For some reason looking at my reflection move exactly like I was made me realize that the body was mine. I shook my shoulders watched my expansive boobs swing and bounce off each other like a perverted executive toy. I brought my hands up to squeezed and I was surprised at both their weight and how soft they were. These were the largest breasts I had ever touched and they were mine.

Jane had some impressive curves according to the mirror. A tiny waist existed underneath my ample tits, proving that nothing grows in the shade. My waist and ass made up for the though, swelling out to make the perfect hourglass look. Something remarkable that reminded me that magic forged this body was the lack of hair on my body. On my head I had arched, sexy eyebrows and a luscious brunette mane but other than that I couldn't find another single hair, anywhere. My legs and pussy was as bald as my old head used to me, not even the sign of anything growing. A lot of guys like that. Hell, I liked it.

If attracting men was my job, this body was the perfect tool. Even though I had been trapped in a dungeon and stuck in an interrogation room, I looked flawless. My long locks of crisp brunette hair looked like I had just emerged from the salon, my skin was tanned all over and even though I wasn't wearing any make-up my face looked like a make-up artist had spent at least an hour or so. "I guess we're just bred that way," I sighed. All the 'Farm girls' I had come into contact with had a perplexing amount of perfection going on.

That wasn't the only thing the Farm-girls shared. We all had an inbuilt insatiable hunger for sex and I could think of little else. I was dismayed at the lost of my old body, my old life although a little part of me was thrilled that this body could attract any man it wanted to. I hated that little part of me, it was the same part of me that threw myself on the bed and let some fingers explore what was between my thighs. I just couldn't help myself.

***

We had been quiet for a while now. The other two men were staring at the ground and I was staring at them. I had so many questions to ask them but since we were probably going to be here for a while and these gentlemen didn't seem in the talking mood I would stagger the questions. "How long have you been stuck down here?"

"Too long," sighed Lil' John, he shook his head and slumped over a little further.

His answer sat in the middle of the room, making me feel all the more uncomfortable. I just needed some reassurance. I had been here what felt like at least twenty-four hours and I hadn't got any real answers.

"Has anyone been let out of here? Do you know?" I asked hopefully. I had a large debt to pay to these horrible men who threw me in here and they wouldn't be able to get a cent more if they killed me.

Lil' John, slumped over and not facing me, answered the question. "They let you out… then they take you to The Farm."

'The Farm' sounded more sinister and terrifying than anything I had ever heard of before. In my mind the all of the world's evil was concentrated at 'The Farm'.

"The Farm?" I asked, although I didn't want to hear more.

Lil' John lifted his massive head and looked into my eyes. His gaze was the type of gaze I would try to avoid in the outside world. He was big, a boulder of well used muscles and fat, he was scarred and he was heavily tattooed. To put it mildly, Lil' John was the type of guy who has a motorbike and belongs to a club where violence is encouraged. Outside of this dungeon there was no way our paths would ever cross. "The Farm is a whorehouse. We're going to be sent to work in a whorehouse." His answer confused me.

The other man, a skinny hairy man called Hedgpeth spoke up, "I don't think there's an actual 'Farm', from what I've been told they sell us off to the highest bidder. We become their slaves." Hedgpeth looked over at me, "Sorry but you were going to find out sooner or later."

This wasn't making any sense to me. What was happening? The Dragons would sell us as slaves to work in brothels? While that sounded grim there was plenty of hope I could escape, I had gotten out of worse situations. I took a quick glance downwards at my left hand, it was missing of two fingers. Well maybe I don't escape every situation, I thought.

"I'm not sure I get any of this," I said. It wasn't my fault I didn't understand, they weren't explaining anything to me. I was an academic and had a far and deep knowledge of a lot of things these two lower class men had probably never even heard of.

"Every full moon they take one of us to the forest somewhere and using magic they turn us into a beautiful sex-crazed woman willing to do their masters' bidding." Hedpeth's revelation was ludicrous and I couldn't hide my disbelief. "I know you don't believe me, but it's true."

He's true I didn't believe him.

"It is true," Lil' John echoed, "I've seen it with my own eyes, twice."

The fluorescent lights buzzed and blinked. For a dungeon it was exceptionally bright. I always thought dungeons were supposed to be dank and dimly dit, it was almost like a doctor's waiting room with chains on the walls instead of chairs. "You've seen a man turn into a woman?" I asked incredulously.

Lil' John didn't like my question, being that big he probably had never had someone disagree with him before. "I wasn't there when they did it but they brought the new girls back down here when they were finished and there was no fucking way those girls were anyone else but the men that were chained up here with me for weeks."

It was obvious that he thought he was telling the truth. But I had learnt from an early age that magic simply didn't exist. Women weren't cut in half and reassembled, no man could travel around the world in a single night delivering presents to children, love at first sight is a myth and God doesn't hear your prayers no matter how desperate you are: Magic just doesn't happen.

***

"Fuuuuuuck meeeee," I hollered as felt my pussy muscle's tighten around my thrusting fingers. I was lucky to be lying down because the force of my orgasm would have surely knocked me over otherwise. It felt like a pleasurable shotgun blast coursing through my skinny, little body. I bit down on my red ruby lip as I endured the most amount of delight I had ever felt in my body at once. I emitted a small moan as I let the feeling ebb and slowly fade away.

"Fuck me," I restated as I sat up. I wasn't sure whether all women felt that amount of pleasure when they came, but I doubted it. It was probably a 'Farm-girl' thing, otherwise all women would be nymphomaniacs. I had to be honest to myself that what I had just done felt amazing. If sex with men felt half as good as that then perhaps this addiction would be bearable or at least a lot more enjoyable than gambling, my last addiction.

The early afternoon sun streamed through the window and splashed onto me and my bed. I let my body roll around and appreciate the sunbeams. I hadn't seen the sun in three months and I couldn't remember the last time I had actually basked in it. In this idyllic situation I let my eyelids flutter closed and allowed my mind to slowly drift away to dreamland.

Soon I would have to feed my lust something more substantial, even if I didn't want to.

***

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anything about my stories, [email protected]

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"BUZZ!"

I woke suddenly to a loud noise. Before I could register any other feeling, I realised I was horny, very horny. I was hornier than I have ever been in my life.

"BUZZ!" The noise reminded me that there was more in this world than me and my pussy.

Leaping off my bed, I stumbled around to see what the noise was. Being in a new body inside a new house was beyond disorientating. "BUZZ! BUZZZZZ!" said the door. It was the doorbell. I hobbled to the front door and peeked through the spy hole. "BUZZ!" It was Sam and a man, presumedly another cop. My body contemplated dragging the man inside and having my way with him while Sam waited but my head was still in enough control that I didn't do that.

"Jane!" called Sam through my door.

"Just a minute," I responded, "I just woke up." I bounded back to the bedroom to throw my clothes back on. I pulled the T-shirt over my torso, hiding my boobs from the world once more, slid my tight, white panties up my smooth legs and jumped into my tracksuit pants. I ran a hand through my long and luxurious hair and went back to the lounge/kitchen to open my front door.

Sam, the sexy Asian detective stood at the door and beside her stood a plain-clothes policeman. He was gorgeous, tight brown curls on top of his head and a pair of strong arms, his face was kind but it was obvious that he took charge in the bedroom. I wondered how much convincing it would take me to get him into my bed, giving orders. I knew my body was hijacking my mind but I couldn't help it.

"We have some clothes for you," Sam announced as she waved the hunk inside, "as promised." I wasn't as interested in my new clothes as I was in the man carrying it.

"Thank you," I purred, "That looks so heavy. Thanks so much for that! You must be so strong!"

"There's more downstairs," he answered as he left me. My pussy cried out in frustration as he disappeared from view. My nipples threatened to rip themselves off my boobs and chase him down the hall.

"Married with kids," Sam warned me, "and he knows what you are."

I looked down at my excited nipples. "I didn't mean to flirt with him, it's just… I'm really starting to climb the walls now," I fought the urge to rub my pussy through my pants.

Sam sauntered her way to the window overlooking the city. "That's why I got you a place across the road from the biggest university. Access to a lot of willing participants our age, every day of the week," she sold that idea to me like she was a Real Estate Agent. It felt weird to be openly discussing my new addiction, like a heroin junkie loudly praising a new dealer on public transport.

It was true, university guys were always on the lookout for sex, especially hot, crazy, spontaneous sex with a gorgeous stranger. Sam had placed me in the perfect area to feed my addiction. I was set to become a legend; the insanely beautiful brunette who lures students back to her modest apartment for bouts of energetic, desperate sex. A part of me wanted to thank her warmly for the opportunity to bed every single male student of my alma mater and former place of employment, the rest of me was angry that she would tempt me so. But at least my itch would be soon scratched.

I looked at the mountain of clothes I had just acquired. There was already more there than I had in my old closet at my old house and there was more on the way. I pulled out an item of clothing at random; pink, tight, revealing. I screwed up my face knowing that I was at least partly responsible for being the type of person these clothes would suit. "I'm sure… they aren't all like that," Sam reassured me, "The direction I gave them was cute, not slutty."

"As long as it performs it job," I sighed. We both knew the job it was supposed to perform — make men notice me and the incredible body I inhabited.

Sam's helper returned with bags and bags full of more clothes, two bags containing nothing but shoes. I stood in the middle, looking like a parody of womanhood. "One more load," he announced.

"Really?" I asked in surprise. I was expecting some jeans, a bra, a top, a dress and some shoes not this cavalcade of women's fashion. The man disappeared again and this time I almost followed him out.

"Take your mind off him, please," Sam scolded me, "Try some things on. See if they fit right." I did as she said, peeling off my t-shirt. I didn't care that Sam could see me because it's not like she hadn't seen a naked woman before and it wasn't really my body anyway. Still, the sight of my naked well-formed body elicited a small gasp from Sam. I shrugged an 'I know' shrug and went on the prowl for some clothes.

I dipped into a bag and a bra emerged. Small band with huge cups, it had to be mine. It was black and lacy, the type Bliss would save for a very special occasion and my wife wouldn't wear at all. "I guess bras are a part of my life now," I sighed as I slid an arm into the armhole.

"Yeah, mine too."

I looked at the small indentations in Sam's blouse that were caused by her breasts, as stunningly beautiful as she was she simply couldn't compete with me in this area. "Yes, but at least you're not lugging around boulders, you've only got pebbles." I picked up a cute lemon coloured bra and checked its tag, the number was small and letter was big. Bigger than I thought. It was official — I was busty.

"Guess in that regard I'm lucky," she shrugged as she poured herself some water from the kitchen sink taps.

I clumsily waged war on the connecting hooks on the back of the bra, trying to fasten it. "Come on," I urged the hooks. As a man I did have the requisite experience in undoing bras but I was never forced to do one up before and the added complexity of doing it behind my back only raised the difficulty. My struggles finally paid off and I was wearing my very first bra. Another first for me but not one I was proud of.

"It fits?" Sam asked.

I cupped my mounds in their lacy confines, shrugged and nodded, "I guess so." I reached into the same bag again and rummaged around for some matching underwear. The bag was filled with all sorts of panties, all sorts of cuts in all sorts of colours. "This isn't how I should be spending my first day of freedom," I said as my tracksut pants and panties slid to the ground, "I shouldn't be trying on panties! Panties, I know I will be ripping off for some guy to fuck me! I don't deserve this!" I balled my tiny hands up into tiny fists. My rage came out as little more than a princess' temper tantrum.

Sam quickly waded out into the sea of shopping bags to comfort me. "I know," she said as her tiny arms hugged me, "It's shitty but you've got to be strong. Don't let the Dragons win."

"They've already won! Look at me, Hedgpeth, I was an academic and now I am some horny slut!" Sam's embrace was causing my nipples to harden which only made my madder.

Sam's almond eyes began to well up with tears, my tantrum was having an effect on the usually calm policewoman. "You have to look on the bright side, Wallace. You're alive, you're young and you are debt-free."

"Debt-free? I have to pay my debt every single night. Every time I look in the mirror I pay my debt. Fuck!" Despite my anger I was still incredibly horny. I pulled on some black lacy thing and felt it nestle gently between my ass-cheeks. I was so innately slutty that I could pull out a thong in a bag filled with different underwear. My body seemed in control as it flung clothes about looking for a thing to wear. I finally stopped flinging things about, I had something in my hands: black, tight, casual. I pulled the tank top over my head and down onto my body, it hugged my curves like a scared child.

I continued delving into various bags like a woman possessed. "Are you OK?" Sam asked at a distance.

"I need some clothes because I — HA!" I held up a pair of itty-bitty shorts and started to pull them on, "These will do!" They were tight, revealing and made my ass look even better. I returned to the search, on the lookout for appropriate shoes.

"Jane?"

Heels, heels, heels. It looked like the stylists thought I only needed high heels. I grunted in frustration as I flipped open another shoebox lid. "These!" I said as I quickly donned a pair of casual, airy and feminine sandals. I was dressed enough to leave the house, which I needed to do. There were no men in this house and no men meant no cocks and Farm-girls, like me, need cock. "You got some money?" I asked hastily, like I needed some money for drugs.

Sam's beautiful face looked concerned. She spoke slow as if I threatening her with a knife, "Yes. Why do you need it Jane?"

"So, I can buy a drink or something to eat," I responded like she was the stupidest woman in the world, "I just need to get out of here right away." My pussy felt like it was trying to drag me out of the house by itself.

"The urges?" Sam asked.

I nodded.

She handed a crisp $100 note and I tucked it into the tiny pocket of the sprayed-on shorts I was wearing. She smiled sympathetically, "Don't forget this." She handed me my house keys. "And take one of these," she conjured up a condom seemingly out of nowhere. I'm glad she was thinking straight because I definitely wasn't.

"Keep it together, Jane!" I told myself as I walked down the corridor. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't know what I was going to do when I got there but those seemed like minor details. My long hair fluttered behind me, my hips swung from side to side and my boobs bounced with every step, at high speeds this body's differences felt much more apparent to me.

If the mirror in the elevator was accurate I was still one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. The clothes only seemed to accentuate what was good about this body, I looked curvy and trim and young. Finding a guy who was willing to fuck wouldn't be hard. My hands played absent-mindedly with my tits as I thought about the upcoming coitus. Questions raced around in my head — "Was it going to hurt?" "What sort of sicko would turn someone into this?" "Am I now gay?" "What if I can't find any guys?" "What if they figure out that I'm not a girl?"

I emerged onto the street, totally free for first time as Jane Wallace, a 21-year-old professional fuck toy. I cold go anywhere I wanted, I could run to my ex-wife seeking compassion, I could try and track down the Dragons and see if they could reverse the hellish curse they put upon me, I could just jump in front of the first car coming toward me and end it all. I didn't do any of those, I just couldn't, and instead I went into 'The Big Thirsty', the university bar next door to find a man.

For 5pm on a Monday The Big Thirsty seemed sort of busy. Students finished classes and businessmen knocking off work early quarter filled the charismatic bar. There were a few girls — a mix of uni chicks with their no make-up and cheap beers and buttoned-up business women letting their hair down with some wine. After a quick sweep of the place I knew that my competition was weak. It actually alarmed me how predatory I was feeling.

The men outnumbered then women, which suited me just fine. The body that I was forced to wear tingled with excitement as I strolled to the middle of the bar. Eyes everywhere followed my every step and I could almost feel them. I ran my fingers through my majestic brunette mane and climbed atop a barstool. All I had to do was play the waiting game.

The first person who approached was a woman — the bartender. She was a skinny little blonde thing that might have attracted some of the men's attention if I wasn't in the room. She was skinny where I was 'built', she was cute where I was breath-taking, she was a 7/10 where I was a real-life 11/10. I don't where this odd pride about my beauty and the accompanying competitiveness with 'other' women had come from but I always did have a little bit of a superiority complex. It used to be just about my intellect but now I was more beautiful than anyone I had ever met too. "Bloody Mary," I said without bothering with the pleasantries.

She trundled off to bring me my drink and I surveyed the scene. I felt sick by how many of the men seemed to interest this body. Almost 100% of them men in the room could have picked me up then and there if they had wanted to. All I would have needed was for them to have said, 'Wanna fuck?' or something akin to that and I would have followed them anywhere. But social rules dictated that they wouldn't do that, not to a girl like me, not on a Monday evening, not in a uni bar. Instead they would have to play the 'getting to know you game', a game I was not prepared for.

I handled the little blonde mess my money and she looked at my $100 note with unrestrained annoyance. "Sorry," I simply shrugged, "I don't have anything else." I gently sipped my drink as she went to tally my change. What amazed me was how intense the flavour of the Bloody Mary was. Was it the cocktail or was it my new tongue? Heaven knows the number of tastebuds I must have killed with the many bowls of chilli I had thrown down my throat with reckless abandon, my sense of taste must have been dulled a tremendous deal. I thought about all the food I had to try now and how that might affect my girlish figure.

I was going to have sex soon - it was inevitable. I was nervous but I didn't show it. I was scared but you would never know. My body craved sex and you could tell. I drank my entire drink a little too fast for a slight woman and felt the infamous buzz creep in. Being drunk would make the easier. I looked at the bartender, "Another."

I was finished my second Bloody Mary and no man had tried to talk to me yet. Maybe there was more to this attracting a man thing besides being attractive to men. I looked around, there was no shortage of men staring at me but none of them were game enough to try me. Perhaps being a truly beautiful woman would hinder me that way, maybe I was unapproachable. That would have not been a problem if I didn't have a deep need to be fucked. I really did need, I couldn't think of anything else. My whole brain was dedicated to finding someone to fuck me.

There was a guy alone a few stools down from me. My eyes scanned him and I was surprised how much I enjoyed looking at him. I thought my body was just looking to get laid but it actually revelled in how good this man looked. Mid-twenties probably, looked like a recent graduate who was now working in some trendy company that didn't force their employees to wear suits, he worked out a lot, short brown hair, neatly trimmed sideburns and a confident smirk, it was all I needed. At that point in time I didn't really have standards so it was a bonus that he was pretty damn hot.

I did my best impression of a girl interested in a guy. I was a novice at all this, it was hard remembering sometimes that I was no longer a 46-year-old man with yellowing teeth. I smiled a shy yet sexy smile at the man two seats away, made sure he caught me looking and then I quickly went back to looking straight ahead. I brushed a long strand of shiny brown hair behind my ear with a dainty hand and looked back at my prey. He was looking at me. I smiled again, for just a second and then returned to my drink.

Flirting was a game I was playing because I had to, there were social rules I had to conform to until I found an alternative. The man smiled at me and we were underway. "Come," I lured him, "Sit here."

"OK," he sounded surprised as if somehow I was a mirage, "I'll sit there."

"Tremendous," I purred. I had to choose my words more carefully, no 21 year old says tremendous, I told myself. "Hard day?" I asked, spinning on my perky ass to face him. I felt the heat in my nether regions increase, my body was eager to be penetrated.

"Not really," he smiled, "my final client of the day cancelled and my car is being serviced and won't be ready until 5.30 so I thought I'd just have a sneaky beer. You?"

Shit! I hadn't thought up a story yet. I had forgotten about the talking part of flirting. "Finished classes," I blurted out, "And I was going to meet some friends here for a drink but one by one by one they've all pulled out, so it's just little ol' me at the bar by my lonesome." I smiled sweetly.

"Well let's keep each other company then," the man said as if he was making the first moved. I had to make like 3 moves before he 'took things into his own hands'.

"Jane," I held out my hand.

Instead of shaking it like a normal person he kissed it like he was a prince, "I'm James." Jane and James, two boring names but a pretty hot couple. "So can I get you another drink, Jane?"

"No, I'm already feeling a little buzzed." That was true, this lithe body couldn't handle its booze and I already felt tipsy after my second drink. We waved over the blonde bartender but kept his eyes clearly on me. That just confirmed what I was thinking, I was way hotter than the staff here.

"So Jimmy, what makes you interesting?" I said leaning in to him, revealing an ample amount of delectable cleavage. He didn't miss the display and stared openly at my boobs. He may not be a complete gentleman but he still was gorgeous. He talked a little about himself, how he was 29 and was a personal trainer and had moved here from the other side of the country for a girl who dumped him two months later. I wore my sympathetic face, said 'awww' and put my hand on his leg tenderly.

"And so here I am. Two years since I moved here, renting my own place, got my own business, totally happy, talking to the hottest and sweetest girl I have ever met." His flirting attempt was either clumsy or lazy but it told me he had thought about fucking me since we met. "What about you?"

My pussy tensed up, I needed the flirting to be over. Maybe later on when I get used to these urges I could learn about the subtle art of flirting but as it stood I didn't have the time for all this talking. I needed him to penetrate me and soon. I had to throw whatever subtly I had attempted out the window and break the rules. I smiled sweetly and said plainly, "Jane, 21, I'm new in this city, studying business and…" I hesitated, "I want you to fuck me, James." I looked into his eyes, he knew I wasn't kidding.

"Ummm…" he seemed taken aback, which was a reaction I was expecting, "That would… be amazing. You mean now?"

"Yes," I nodded, "Right now."

"Why am I the 'chosen' one?" he laughed awkwardly. James wanted to be told he was special and not just the closest cock in the room.

"Because you did something to me. As soon as I looked at you my tight, little pussy has been begging me to introduce her to your cock. Just looking at you has made me very wet." I reached over to his leg and rubbed his thigh. I was about to see if porn movie situations could apply in real life.

"Wow, that's hot."

"Bathroom?" I asked and he smiled. We both stood up in unison and I realised how tall he was. 6'2 maybe more of prime personal trainer muscle stood beside my shorter frame. He made me feel small and a little vulnerable. If my urges weren't mind-numbingly intense I might have chickened out and ran back to my apartment. He put his hand on the small of my back and I almost yelped in anticipation. I was closer to having a cock inside me than ever before and I couldn't have been happier. In the dozen or so steps it takes to get to the restroom his hand had already migrated to my perky ass.

The Disabled bathroom was luckily empty when we entered, not that shame or embarrassment was a major concern of mine. Was it wrong to use the disabled bathroom for casual sex? Of course it was, but it was much more private than the other options. I was surprised and pleased to see the room to be quite roomy and spotless, a rare find in public toilets. It must have been cleaned within the last hour because everything gleamed and there was a distinct smell of artificial lemon in the air. I wasn't terribly happy that my life had ended up the way it had - about to be screwed by a guy in the public toilet of a bar on a Monday evening — but at least the bathroom was spacious and immaculate. I slid the door closed behind me and locked it. Nobody was going to get a free show. "You're a bad girl, Jane," James whispered.

He was right. This was not the behaviour of a 'good girl'. As I pulled him closer and kissed with vigorously, I wondered if it was possible to live in this body with its urges and be a 'good girl'. All the body's urges would have to be purged with one man, presumably a boyfriend or husband. He would have to be quite virile to keep up with me, I thought. It was probably a lot easier to live the 'Farm-girl' life as a 'bad girl'.

I rubbed his groin through his jeans. James was hard, really hard and my mind exploded. I threw back my head and moaned in delight, even though no contact had taken place. "Feels like I've won the big cock jackpot!" I cooed as rubbed the denim covered monster again. I had no idea what I was saying but it seems a beautiful woman can get away with saying just about anything.

"Just you wait and see, baby," James teased. He pulled me closer and we kissed roughly again, our tongues doing the equivalent of dirty dancing. His hand reached up and fondled one of my big tits. Believe it or not, this hurried foreplay was taking too long for my tastes. I really was the perfect woman — a beautiful nympho who was all about the penetration. "I have to see your tits!" James declared as he squeezed one of them playfully.

Despite wanting to move things along faster, I obliged. My tight black top was hanging on a railing as fast as it could be. I stood in my bra looking so sexy and so feminine and looked at my special friend with pure lust as I reached behind me to undo the clasp. It was then the fantasy stalled. Despite being the personification of sexy, I was still a novice at brassieres. Although I looked like I must have worn my fair share of bras as I changed from a young girl to a busty young woman it was not true. My process had been not as gradual as I went from 46 years without breasts to the sizable pair I now had. This was the first time I had ever taken off a bra before. "Little help," I laughed.

"Of course," James smiled. The whole event had felt like some first-person porn movie until then. This body and its urges was taken control and it took something like not knowing how to undo my own bra to remind me this was all real. I, a professor and father, was in a toilet about to have sex with a man. The situation was crazy but you wouldn't have been able to drag me away from it. I felt a snap as James deftly undid my bra clasp. I tugged at the cups and slid the bra off my arms. I was topless and James was impressed. "Fuck me!" he stared unabashedly at my perfect breasts, "Those are the best tits I have ever seen." I was oddly proud of the fleshly orbs that magic had forced upon me.

I continued undressing, for the constant ache I had wasn't centred in my chest. My snug pair of shorts were unbuttoned and slid down my long and silky legs. I thought 'bathroom sex' meant that all I would have to do was pull down my shorts move my panties aside for access and yet I was almost naked and would be when the sex would happen. I posed like a glamour model in front of James. I grabbed his T-shirt and tugged it over his head and tossed it over mine. It was obvious that he indeed was a personal instructor by his rippling body. It had been successfully hidden by his baggy shirt and I got a little bit of a thrill seeing a man's body in peak physical condition. I wondered if enjoying James' body made me gay but I figured out there wasn't really a word for what I was, unless you count: horny.

We really needed to speed this thing up otherwise I would explode. Our lips met and our hands scrambled to explore each other's bodies. While he squeezed my firm ass cheeks, I worked on getting his cock free of its confines. Down went the zip of his fly, past the boxer shorts, grasp the thick cock with my hand and yank it out. It was thick and long, of course it was. A small part of me was thrilled by the size of the cock I was about to come in contact with, while the silent majority just looked on in terror and repulsion. "Fuck me James," I ordered, "I need it." I meant it more than any 'real' woman had ever meant it.

I pulled off my thong, the thing strip of material reappeared from between my perky cheeks and then glided to the floor. Not knowing what I was doing I jumped up, wrapping my gorgeous stems around his waist tightly. I felt his erection brush up against the outside of my pussy and I threw my head back in expectant bliss. He carried me over to the nearest wall and pressed me up gently against it. There was a slight pause as he got into position and then a second later my feminine virginity was gone. People don't usually have two virginities to give away and I found it a little depressing that I had given my second so readily, but that wasn't fault.

Relief was the most overwhelming feeling I felt as James thrust his organ inside mine. Disgust was probably a distant second, with confusion, shame, self-pity, pleasure and pain all in the mix. My vagina was slick in preparation of his thrusting manhood so even though he was quite big, pain wasn't too much of an issue. Up against a wall was a position I had done a lot with Bliss but never with my wife. It was dirty, urgent and it made me feel strong and dominating. On the receiving end, I felt vulnerable, tiny, weightless but desired. His cock glided in and out of my pink, wet hole with a clock-like precision. "Oh yes!" I gasped in relief as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my slender shoulders.

I dug my fingers into this stranger's back as he fucked me. My whole body was tensing up but in that weird, good way I had felt earlier in my bedroom. James groaned and pressed me harder against the wall. I bit my lip and moaned even harder. I felt horrible and great at the same time. My breath and his quickened as we both came closer to the collective goal. "My knee is hurting," James whispered mid-thrust, "Can we move this?"

I looked around the room. "Over there," I nodded in the direction of my proposed location. James agreed and carried me over to the toilet, his cock still buried inside me. He gently lowered us and sat down on the toilet. Lid closed, of course, this was classy lovemaking after all. I looked directly into James' eyes and grinned, I was in charge now. My hips began to buck, I was partly in control of this body but largely not. James sat forward and squeezed my ass cheeks firmly. That didn't slow me down, it just spurred me on. Repeatedly I impaled myself on his thick, swollen member with intensity. It wouldn't be long now.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum!" James warned me. I didn't slow down, I wanted him to cum.

"Me too!" I told him as I bounced in his lap. He held me tight, burying his face between my bouncing tits. My arms squeezed his shoulders and my pussy squeezed his cock as I came. "Ahh, ahh, ahhhh, ah, ah!" I squealed as the wave of pleasure washed over me.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" James moaned as he finished about 3 seconds after me. I felt his manhood deep inside me tense as he shot his load inside of me. The relief I felt when I was being entered was multiplied as his semen coated my sweet pussy. The condom! I suddenly remembered Sam's gift as I was leaving. While I had been so preoccupied in getting a penis inside me, I forgot about the dress code. I wondered if there would soon me a be a life growing inside me and all the other terrible things that could happen.

James wasn't as concerned, "That…was…amazing!" he told me as he held me.

"Yeah," I agreed, "It was just what I needed." Truer words were never spoken. Now like oxygen and nourishment, sex was a basic essential for me. I felt him wilt inside me. It was over, Miss Jane Wallace had gotten what she wanted, while Professor Wallace Jane was feeling incredibly betrayed. But it was over now, I was free of the urges. But for how long?

I gingerly climbed off the tall personal trainer and began the process of getting dressed. "That was great way to start my night," James said breathlessly.

"Yeah," I mumbled as I pulled my panties back between the crack of my ass and grabbed my shorts.

James tucked his weary cock back into his pants. "So, want to go get something to eat? I know a great Malaysian restaurant around here."

I pulled on my bra and filled the cups with my expansive bust. "No thanks," I told him simply.

"Oh," he sounded hurt, "OK." I didn't care if he was hurt. I didn't really have any respect for a man who would fuck a girl in the disabled bathroom of a bar after only five minutes. Call it hypocrisy because it is but he didn't have an intense biological need to act like a whore.

"I've gotta go," I said as soon as my tank top came on, "But I'll see you around, OK?" I followed it up with a sort of half-hug.

James hadn't yet put his shirt back on, he just watched me get dressed. "Yeah… can I have your number, Jane?"

"I'm in a rush," I lied, "But I'll be here a lot. Grab it off me next time, OK?" He nodded as I slid the door open and disappeared.

As I walked the short journey home I began to feel something. At first I didn't know what it was but with each step of my foot, each sway of my ass and each jiggle of my boobs it became obvious.

The urges were starting again.

***

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anything about my stories, [email protected]

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Nothing surprised me that morning. I wasn't surprised that I was still Jane, I wasn't surprised that I was in my new bed naked. It didn't phase me that my pussy was a little sore. I didn't even freak out about the cock pressing into the crack of my ass. It all horrified and depressed me but sadly, it didn't surprise me.

The cock, which was sporting a 'morning glory' didn't belong to James of last night. It was attached to Marcus of later last night. It seemed one wasn't enough for this body and only a few hours after losing my virginity I was back on the streets prowling for more pleasure. It didn't take much to get Marcus to follow me home. I just wiggled about and he followed me home like a child following the Pied Piper. I liked Marcus as a guy much more than I liked James. He was a young journalism student, around my new age, eager and talkative. I knew this type of guy; they always made the best students. My body chose him because of his broad shoulders, alluring eyes and encouraging bulge in his trousers so it was a bonus that I liked him as a human.

The sex we had was a little more playful too. I stripped for him, clumsily but he wasn't complaining. The truth was, I almost felt happy as I rode him like a cowgirl. I mean out of all the addictions in the world, I had one that I could at least enjoy. Sex could be fun, gambling rarely was. I think that's because sex is about the seizing the moment while gambling is all about a dream for the future. A dream that never came true.

"What an amazing view," he complimented me as I clutched my nipples while bouncing on Marcus' hard prick.

"Thanks," I said, almost shyly but definitely proudly. I wondered if all Farm-Girls were proud of their immaculately sexy bodies, or if it was just a weird coping mechanism of mine.

In an effort to take care of my body, I made Marcus wear a condom, which he was fine about. He had some in his wallet and I enjoyed rolling them down his thick shaft with a dirty glint in my eye. Marcus' cock was a little shorter than James, but he made up for it in thickness and it might have been my bias but I'd choose a thick cock over a long cock, every time.

What I didn't like was how much hornier my body was Sam's seemed to be. Sam stated that she needed it once daily, definitely horny in the scheme of things. But I needed it more. I woke up, sun streaming through a crack in the curtain, feeling ready to be fucked. The urges were building up already and I had endured a fucking three times the previous night — James once and Marcus twice. I question I had thought a lot recently seeped back into my mind, "Why me?"

I flipped onto my back and began to rub areas that felt nice to be rubbed, namely nipples and my clit. "Mmm," I quietly moaned. I didn't want to be horny, there was other needs to attend to — I was hungry, I could use a shower, I would like to know the naked man in my bed a little better, I could start getting my life back to some sort of sanity.

But no.

I needed to be fucked.

I cursed The Dragons as I turned to face my sleeping beauty. Last night in one of our short but nice conversations Marcus had told me he loved swimming, so perhaps that's why his chest was as hairless as mine. He breathed deeply and peacefully and it almost seemed a shame to wake someone as gorgeous as him up for something as base as fornication.

Unsurprisingly my hand moved on its own accord, gently wrapping itself around Marcus' impressively thick shaft. My hand slid up and down in a way that I knew from experience felt good. The sleepy haze around my head disappeared and I became fully aware of what I was doing. I tightened my grip on the rod in front of me to see if I had control of my own hand. I did but that didn't mean that I stopped. In fact, with my free hand I pushed him gently onto his back.

I didn't stop because I wanted it to be all over with. Maybe this time would end the urges for the rest of the day, maybe if I came hard enough I'd be free of the urges for a week. I didn't know the rules of the Farm-Girl but anything was possible. I cast my stare downwards past my boobs at my feminine hand giving a strange man a vigorous hand job. This isn't the life I wanted for myself but if I didn't go ahead and feed the urges I would never have enough free time to try and find a way out of it. I let go of the sleeping Marcus' cock for a second as a disturbing thought appeared in my head. I tried to stop myself but my body was in control.

Like some sick Pavlovian dog I began salivating as my mouth got closer to his cock. Jane was about to perform her first blowjob and I was forced to go along for the ride. Much to my dismay, Marcus' cock smelt delicious like a perfectly ripe piece of fruit. I'm sure the smell appealing to me was because I was a Farm-Girl and not because I was a girl. My wife had complained about the taste aloud on the rare occasion she travelled down there and even Bliss had confessed that a sweaty cock was not as tasty as she pretended it to be. But I wasn't an ordinary woman, I was a Farm-Girl.

I parted my juicy lips as I got into position. I was given control of my body again but the alluring smell wouldn't let me stop. I was about to suck a man's cock and I was terrified. There was something much more disgusting about this act then just simply fucking him. There was something weirdly abstract and detached about letting a man fuck my pussy but a blowjob felt different. Maybe it was because the act felt homosexual, where as his cock in my pussy was the definition of hetero. If I closed my eyes and ignored the long hair and the swaying boobs it might feel like Professor Jane going down on a man and not Miss Wallace.

God, it tasted good! Immediately I knew this was not going to be my last ever blowjob. If they all tasted like this I wouldn't be able to stop myself my wrapping my lips around every cock I could find. I felt morbidly ashamed and elated at the same time. I let my tongue dance wildly around Marcus' cock as I gently sucked. I steadied my self with my hands and went to town, bobbing up and down on his warm prick.

I was surprised by my enthusiasm and so was the recipient as he awoke. "Good morning," he grinned.

I ignored his majestic cock for just one second to look at Marcus' smiling face "Hi," I smiled shyly, "Your cock just looked so sexy that I couldn't help myself." It was demeaning that I couldn't help but behave this way.

Marcus' smiled proudly, as if no woman had ever praised his cock so much, "Well, don't let me stop you." He put his hands behind his head in a classic relaxation pose and I went back to work: licking, kissing, fondling and sucking his amazing cock. I had always loved a bit of hanky-panky in the morning. I remember a time before my ex-wife was my wife when she was my girlfriend. We would spend all morning in bed: doing crosswords, talking and if I was lucky, making love. There's something magical about the light streaming in, tickling your half asleep senses and knowledge that this is the way you are starting the day.

I looked up at Marcus with my big brown eyes and winked as I enjoyed his cock. This was my first time ever giving a blowjob but I believed that I was doing well. The smile Marcus was giving me showed that he thought it was extremely great.

I could now understand first hand why deep throating was a scary proposition. I was taking a decent amount of his cock in but it was the two or three inches that frightened me. Those last inches had seemingly nowhere to go. As Prof Jane, I dreamt of a girl who proud of their cock sucking, a girl who would try their best and do absolutely everything to make sure the man enjoyed himself. The difference between an OK blowjob and a phenomenal one was rather minute. It took passion, lust and the daring to deep throat him. There was no woman in my history that I would deem 'great at giving head', I would have to be the first.

I unwrapped my lips from around his pole, looked over and winked. "Don't stop," Marcus pleaded.

I put on my sultry voice and assured him, "Don't worry, I'm not going to stop until you shoot your hot load into my mouth!" I aimed and shot down onto his throbbing manhood. Down, deeper and deeper and then I stopped. I stopped because I'd reached the end, I felt Marcus' pubic hair against my face. I moaned in excitement as I tried to fathom why I wasn't choking on the thick hard hose currently down my throat. I slid back up and then all the way down, my tongue tickling his shaft. I didn't know whether I was more disgusted at myself or impressed with my skills.

Marcus was clearly impressed. "Fuck!" he called out, "I'm cumming!" I didn't have time to brace myself or move as the jet of hot, salty cum came into my mouth. It surprised me how quickly my mouth was filled with warm, white liquid. I had let a strange man climax in my mouth, there was no going back now — I was officially a slut.

"Oh God!" I moaned when the taste finally registered. It tasted incredible, like the nectar of the gods. It was sweet, warm and salty, all the things I expected but it tasted better than anything I had ever come into contact with. I shuddered and moan as the taste alone made me orgasm. I threw my head up and my eyes rolled back in my head in pure pleasure. I explored the sides of my mouth furiously with my tongue, searching for just one more drop of delicious seed.

I knew it was just my Farm-Girl tendencies that made Marcus' semen taste so amazing. It was another trick to make me be as slutty as possible. I was afraid to admit that it was working too, if I was offered another hard cock to suck right then it would have been impossible to turn down on the taste alone. Marcus, the man attached to the cock I was so enamoured with, sighed contentedly, "Where did you come from? You're a dream girl, Janey!"

While I wasn't a fan of being called 'Janey' I slid up the bed and snuggled up to my guest. Being in this situation made me feel lonely so I cuddled up to the handsome journalism student. One or two more hours of hours sleep would do me good. My urges were at there lowest point ever and I could think straight.

I had to fix this problem. Under the long, gorgeous brunette tresses and the generous rack I was still Professor Wallace Jane. The Dragons had proved to me that there was magic in the world, and if there was magic that could turn me into a cock-hungry beauty than there must be a way to turn me back. I would search this world high and low to find a cure. The Dragons can't be the only people in the world with access to magic.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Marcus asked coyly as he spooned me from behind. I used to be the big spoon but not anymore.

"Just how we should see each other again," I lied.

He took that as an invitation to cup my breast with his hand. "Yeah," he agreed with my lie, "That was really be great and yeah, maybe I could cook for you? I'm a pretty mean cook."

Marcus really was a nice guy. "Yeah, write down your number and I'll call you. Sometime this week?" I asked.

My Big Spoon responded, "Friday?"

My ideal plans were to be back to being Wallace by then so there was little harm in confirming. "Count me in." And if I was still Jane than who cares? I would still need to be fucked Friday night.

"Well, now that I know I can see you again," the man in my bed began to move, "I can go. If you had said 'no' I wouldn't have been able to leave."

I pretended to be doting, "Where are you going?" I said as I sat up in bed.

"I've got classes in half and hour. What about you?"

"Day off," I shrugged. Marcus quickly got dressed, letting pieces of clothes get between his delectable body and me. Even with a low amount of urges I was still attracted to him. His strong arms enveloped me at the door as he said his goodbye, a hug, a kiss on the cheek and he was gone.

"Wow," I exclaimed to myself as I finally found myself alone, "I'm a total slut!" I walked to my bed, ignoring the still weird bouncing and juggling that was my secondary sexual characteristics. I looked myself in the mirror, "You sucked a guy's cock!" I stuck my tongue out to evaluate the damage. It didn't seem affected as much as I was. "What are you doing, Wallace?" I asked myself out loud, "Stop fucking men!"

I stormed out of the room to nowhere in particular. I marched around the couch, arms folded. "I can't stop! Why can't I stop? Fuck! I'm an academic!" I took my little tantrum into the bedroom, hurling myself on the bed. Tears began to sprout of my perfect face and I cursed the world. "Why does it make me like it? I don't want to like it! Let me have my misery!" I squealed as I rolled onto my perfect back and stared at the ceiling. I stopped my crying, sat up and looked in the mirror. The horny, feminine slice of perfection I was now stared back. "OK Wallace," I looked for a shimmer of the old me under the new me, "You can get out of this. You're just going to have to work hard. Crying and going insane isn't going to help you. You need to buckle down and try and find a way back. Every spare minute you have is about trying to make you a man again, OK? Keep your eyes on the goal and we'll be fine." It reminded me of the little speeches I would give myself after a particularly bad night at the track.

"Shower, get dressed and find out what you can do to turn back."

Nothing zaps your testosterone like soaping up your own boobs with a loofah. The gentle water cascaded down my ravishing curves and into the gargling plughole. I am so damn sexy that I'm sure even the water thrilled at the chance of caressing my body. I tenderly and carefully washed my hair with some expensive shampoo and conditioner that Sam had bought me along with the clothes. It relaxing in my little glass sanctuary and if I closed my eyes hard enough I almost forgot what I had become and what I was going to have to do tonight.

"Jane," I told myself, "You look good wet." I gently patted myself dry as my reflection did the same. No rogue hairs had grown in the few days of being a girl, so I was still impeccably neat and unnaturally hairless below my eyebrows. I thought maybe some pubic hair would start sprouting but it looked like the Dragons wanted me to sport an all-year Brazilian.

Since I was OK for sex for at least a few hours I didn't have to worry about dressing to impress. I opened the section of the wardrobe dedicated for clothes to wear around the house. Sam and her gorgeous friend had done a wonderful job hanging up and putting away all my clothes last night. I could have helped but Sam said that it was better if I just relaxed and watched some TV. I did and it was nice to relax for once. I was now spoilt for choice. Nobody looking at me or judging me, all I needed was just some casual clothes.

I took some simple black tracksuit pants off their hanger and slung them on the bed, along with a simple red T-shirt. I was going to be comfortable and casual. I slid the dreaded panty draw open and stared. Panties. I wore panties. There were rows and rows of tiny, colourful panties that were meant for my crotch and me. A lot of them were designed to be cute, even more of them were deliberately sexy and a select few were merely functional. I was in a 'functional' mood. I reached for some simple white, 'normal' panties but missed and collected a little pastel pink thong. "I don't think so," I said as I let them go. I reached for the plain underpants again and somehow grabbed something red and lacy. "Third times a charm," I said as I steadied my hand and slowly and deliberately aimed for the 'functional' underwear. I clasped them in my fingers and brought them to my body.

I stepped into the plain white panties and bent down to pick them up, pulling them over my long legs and to my crotch. "OK," I sighed clutching my full breasts, "A bra." I pulled open the bra draw and pulled out a sexy satiny red number. "Stupid hands!" I scolded my hands. Are my draws so full of sexy little things that I couldn't grab something sensible in amongst the sea of flirt? No, my hands must have the shakes or something. Maybe I needed to be screwed again already. My second attempt got me my desired plain white bra. Brassieres only confirmed what walking suggested, my boobs were big. The bra looked almost comical with their tiny bands and their large cups. Last night Sam was trying to comfort me by saying that a lot of women have bigger boobs than me but the fact that I was way bigger than she was made her point moot.

After a little wriggling, reaching around and adjusting I was in. While it felt good to be supported, something minor felt off. I shook off that feeling and I pulled my comfy new tracksuit pants. The sound of the rest of the world living their life was the soundtrack to my otherwise silent apartment. I liked being alone. I always preferred my own company to anyone else's, even more now. The T-shirt was snug but not snug to the point of slutiness. I looked in the mirror and a 'normal' but extremely attractive college girl stared back.

First things first I was going to start writing everything that happened to me down. If there was some little clue lodged in my mind about what happened the night of the transformation I wanted to get it down on paper. Tomorrow I would buy a computer and the internet and I would begin to research The Dragons, Farm-Girls, gender transformations and possible cures. This world was a lot scarier place now that I know magic exists.

I sat down at my work desk in the lounge room and opened a blank notebook. I wrote down today's date and a short simple sentence on the first page. "You will solve this," it now read. It was an inspiring and hopeful message, hurt only by the fact my handwriting was now decidedly cute — curly and rounded letters was now how I expressed myself, although fortunately the 'i's were dotted with dots not love hearts. At least my hand had all my fingers, unlike my old hand towards the end. Undeterred I opened to the next page and began to write every detail that I could remember. I wrote about what happened, when I thought it was, a vague approximation of where and anything else that popped into my head. I'm not sure if everything I was writing was useful or nothing at all but it seemed important that I wrote it all down.

I shifted in my chair trying to get my padded ass to feel right. I wasn't in pain, I just wasn't comfortable, and this body would take some getting used to. Sure, I don't have the spare tyre around my middle anymore but I was rocking an impressive ass in the back and some sizeable knockers in the front. Also, I now had hair where I had none and vice versa. My voice, my eyesight, my taste and so much more were all different now that I was in this youthful and optimised body.

I became restless after writing a page or two and stood up. I stretched like a little kitten and poured myself a glass of water. I walked around my little house as I sipped on my beverage, taking in all that I needed to do to make it feel like a home — bigger TV in the lounge room, maybe move that smaller TV in the bedroom, get a bath mat for the shower, get a hamper for dirty clothes, otherwise I would just end up throwing clothes right on the floor. I looked at the small pile of clothes on the floor — yesterday's shorts and top, a range of 'too sexy' under garments from the draws and a red t-shirt, black tracksuit pants and a functional plain white bra and panty set. I was naked; I looked down to confirm that I just didn't have two sets of the same clothes. My eyes were greeted with a whole lot of naked flesh. "Really?" I sighed to my reflection, "What was wrong with that outfit?"

My body seemed to not like my casual look. I thought about it for a second and I could remember casually undressing after I put my glass of water down. I did it without thinking, like when my body on occasion helps to initiate sexual activity. My mind started showing a highlight reel of my time spent with James and Marcus and I brushed my finger against my delicate opening with nostalgia. "Stop that!' I cursed my beautiful body.

I couldn't stay naked. I couldn't let this body have its way all the time so I flung open my panties draw. "Is this sexy enough for you?" I asked myself; of course I got no response so I pulled on the little red thong. I knew what outfit this thong went with, I had seen Sam putting it away the previous night. "Why would ever wear something like that? What even is it?" I asked.

Sam came towards me with it and I almost jumped back like she was holding a spider. "I think it's just some lingerie. I wouldn't leave the house wearing this. It's just for 'entertaining'," Sam said. I scrunched up my face like a 4-year-old to a plate of vegetables. "Jane, you don't have to wear it."

"Don't worry. I wont."

I stood looking in the mirror at the sight of a gorgeous woman in red sheer lingerie. I simple looked amazing. The bra top thing was see-through so you could see my pink nipples pushing through, after the bra part of the top it became a free-flowing dress thing, but not a full dress as it stopped at the top of my ass. There was a smattering of little black flowers sewed on to the ensemble too. I looked sexy as hell but at least I had clothes on so I counted it as a semi-victory.

So, I went straight back to writing, the little red thong nestled between my plump and firm ass cheeks. "This body seems to want me to dress a certain way," I wrote after writing a few pages about the transformation, "While I can dress how I want it didn't take me too long to conform. For modesty's sake I will see if I can resolve this."

It just after midday when I finally put my pen down for the day. I had been writing for hours, aside from a quick and necessary break to masturbate. I wasn't sure what to do with all of these notes but it was nice to know I had them. I had done what I had planned for the day; I didn't know that the notes would flow so freely. All I had left on today's to-do list was to go out drinking with Bliss. I hoped that I would be able to contain my urges so that I could just discreetly find some guy to rid me of them. I stood up and began to move to the couch. "Buzz," said the intercom.

I marched over to the door and peeped out. I saw the top of a cute, Asian head. It was Sam. I wondered for a second if I should quickly get changed into some casual clothes but at least Sam was aware of my problems. I unlocked the door and opened wide enough that a slender girl could slide through. "Quick," I whispered, "Get in." I didn't want Bliss to casually stroll out her front door and see me dressed like a Victoria's Secret model in the middle of the day, talking to a cop. She might get ideas.

"Never wear it, huh?" Sam said glibly.

"Shut up, it made me," I locked the door behind Sam, "Plus I look good."

Sam was dressed attractively too. Her tight silk blouse made what little breast she had look appetizing and her pencil skirt made her round butt look even perkier. "You do."

Her compliment tickled me in a pleasurable way and suddenly my mind was picturing us in bed sharing these incredible bodies we were forced into. It was good to know that I still had a heterosexual male thought process hidden somewhere inside me. "Sam, are you still into girls?" I smiled as I asked my gorgeous visitor.

"Yeah," she smiled back, "But not half as much as this body is boy crazy." I thought about it for a second, letting a male walk into my little fantasy, as soon as he did I leapt off of Sam and straight onto him. Even my fantasies are against me. I sighed. "How are you coping today? Doing OK after your first time?" When Sam had left last night I was lying on the couch watching TV.

"Well, I kinda left the house after you left," I admitted, "Met a guy called Marcus, brought him back here." I blushed as I recalled how involuntarily slutty I had become.

"Back here?" Sam asked as she sat down at my dining table, "I don't know if that is such a good idea."

I joined her sitting down, feeling the cold of the varnished wood on my ass cheeks. "Why not?"

"Because Jane," I hated my name now, "We are so much hotter than most women, he's going to want more and now he knows where to get it." She didn't know Marcus. I don't know the type of guys she gets to scratch her itches but mine aren't about to stalk me.

"He seems like a nice enough guy, I'm already planning on seeing him again." I felt wet just thinking about him. He knew how to make me cum and I like that in a sexual partner.

Sam teased me, "Oooh Jane's got a boyfriend."

"It's not like that."

"You do know that keeping any relationship going the way were are would be impossible," Sam wasn't giving me a lesson in anything I needed to know. I didn't want Marcus to be my boyfriend; I didn't want a boyfriend at all. I wanted to be male and to have a girlfriend as hot as me but if that wasn't possible at the present moment, I would like a guy I actually was fond of fucking me when I needed to be fucked.

I told Sam, "I know that. It's not a relationship; he's just coming 'round to tend to my needs." All this talk of sex was making me want sex, I hoped that I could last until the early evening. I wanted at least some of the day to myself.

"As long as he knows that." Sam's youthful face leaned towards mine, "I'll tell you how to do it. Go to a bar, meet a guy, give him a fake name, do it at his place, leave when he's asleep."

"Coffee?" I asked as I stood up.

Sam's formally male eyes followed me as I walked to the fridge. "Sure. Black… No, sorry white, this body prefers white." Sam had already figured some of the in and outs of her new body.

I opened the fridge and my dainty fingers reached for the milk. "White it is. So, what brings you here?"

"They found something at where they were keeping you," Sam explained.

I hoped the answer was 'a cure' but I didn't hold my breath, I simple breathed deep and asked, "What?"

"Your instruction manual."

I knew what those words meant, just not in that context. "Huh?"

Sam turned around to talk to me. She began to explain, "They were planning to selling you…"

"Yeah, I assumed as much." From the rumours and the way the Dragon guards talked, I presumed I was for sale like Sam and Lil' John were.

She opened her briefcase and took out a fat stack of papers. "And when something is expensive as you would have been, you can guarantee that it comes with a massive instruction book." I went AWOL from my coffee duties to inspect the photocopied pages.

"Nereid," was all it said on the front cover.

"Neried?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sam crossed her thin legs in a feminine manner as she spoke, "It's a type of Greek mythological creature, like a Sea Nymph." I considered myself well read but I had never come across the term before.

"We're mythological creatures?" I asked.

"That's what the book claims. We're almost like demi-gods," Sam recalled what she had read. "We don't age or get sick. We remain beautiful, no matter the situation. We dote on our masters religiously, and if we don't have a master we have a need to please all men. "

I cringed. Some of those things rang very true to me. I had a feeling that given enough time I could claim I had pleased 'a majority of men' if not them all.

"If even half of the things here are true, Jane, we're in for a long, weird life."

Sam's phrasing was weird so I asked, "What do you mean?"

Sam flicked through some photocopied pages to find what she was explaining, "Well, the book says that Free Spirit Nerieds, like you, live for around 125 years give or take a decade." She gave up on looking for the page and closed the book, "And that's 125 years from now not from when you were born. I was a 'Married' Neried so I have 80 years or so left."

"I'm a Free Spirit because I don't have an owner?" I guessed.

"Right. From what I read there are two types: Free Spirit and 'Married'. All the transformed begin as Free Spirits. To become 'Married' you have to drink the blood of your owner. As a Free Spirit you are 'on the lookout' for an owner, so you are probably going to be hornier." That would explain why Sam was OK with just one a day and I was still climbing the walls after three and a blow job. "In modern days, Free Sprit Nerieds are supposedly employed at most of the world's most expensive escort services. You guys are designed to be like the most ideal prostitute. But as soon as you drink a vial of blood you become 'married' to your owner."

"That what happened to you," I recalled.

"Yeah, I was in his control. I did his chores, wore what we wanted me to, acted like his fantasy girl, answered to him. But when that sick fuck died I didn't have to follow anyone's orders anymore. I have the reduced sex-drive of a Married and the free will of a Free Spirit. I'm lucky."

For a second I was supremely jealous of the Oriental babe sitting across from me, until I thought about what she would have had to do to before she got the freedom. "But I hate to think of the things that sicko put you through."

Sam's eyes began to well up as she thought about that awful man and his sick desires. "At least I got out," she told me, "I'm sure a lot of others didn't." I thought about Lil' John and the countless others who must still be working for their masters. I may be a slut, but at least I am a free slut.

"So, does this tome have anything about reserving the spell?" I asked hopefully. Even though that would have been the first thing she told me if that was true.

"'Fraid not," Sam stood up and closed her briefcase, "But someone must know about how to turn us back. I'm going to find them." She started for the door.

I wanted to follow her, try looking for the answers out there but I wasn't really dressed appropriately for police work. Besides, I was an academic, if anyone was going to find some hidden clues about freeing us from our bodies in this book it was probably going to be me. I stood up and hugged one of my only friends. "Well Sammy, you go find them in the streets and I'll see if I can find any clues in here."

Immediately I flipped open the book to start reading. Sam stood still for a second, straightening herself before she left. "What do you think our chances are of… you know? Turning back? And be honest." Sam was a beautiful woman, easily one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. And the vulnerable she gave me made her even more spectacular. She looked small, delicate and feminine, her male toughness had melted away. I hoped that we could find it again.

"We just found out that magic exists. Who knows what is possible? So, I'm not going to call this game over yet."

Sam smiled and I heard her say as she left my house, "Good."
***

Thanks so much for reading. As always you can send me an email if you want to discuss anything about my stories, [email protected]