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A Gender Swap Mega Bundle 6

Page 2

by Gregor Daniels


  Jeanee stood and stretched in the sun. “This one is not bound by restrictions. You can have as many wishes as you like.”

  “Wait. There has to be a lamp or something, right? Genies always have—”

  “It is done,” Jeanee interrupted, crossing her arms and nodding her head.

  Bill looked around. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Someone else did, and this one granted the wish.”

  Bill scratched his chin. “So, does that mean I’m not your master?”

  “Everyone on this beach is this one’s master.”

  Vinny was thankful for the sand concealing his boner. There was no turning back now!

  “You’re almost covered,” said Whitney, scooping more sand up from the beach and piling it on Vinny’s body. His feet were the first to disappear, and now his torso and arms were stuck underneath. Only his head remained above the sand.

  Heather packed it all down, trying to make the mound as seamless as possible. “He’s so cute like that! Just look at him.”

  Vinny grinned as Heather bent over to pack the sand one more time, causing her breasts to jiggle. He stared long and hard into her cleavage, feeling a stir somewhere below several inches of sand. He never imagined he’d be so close to two hot babes at once, each filling out a sexy bikini. And it was so easy!

  “Gay guys really are the best,” Whitney said, pausing from the exertion to sip on water. After, she ruffled Vinny’s hair with her fingers. “How you doing in there?”

  “Oh, I’m fine and dandy,” Vinny said.

  That was the trick—you had to say you were gay, and suddenly the girls wouldn’t mind hanging out with you. Hey, it was perfectly acceptable when you weren’t attracted to them! In reality, Vinny wasn’t the least bit homosexual. The idea of sleeping with a man repulsed him. But, they didn’t need to know that. It was entirely worth it just to stare at these two beauties, watching their tits bounce around in their bikini tops. They frequently came to him for fashion advice too, asking what colors looked best. He was a man, so he had the man’s brain.

  Sometimes, they didn’t mind undressing in front of him.

  Vinny set his eyes on Heather as she glanced down to brush sand off her boobs. The contact sent her breasts jiggling, though she didn’t mind. They were all in the company of friends. He watched them intently, salivating at the movement of creamy flesh back and forth, their resistance to gravity and the momentum of inertia. It really was a spectacle. Good thing no one could see his swim trunks tenting.

  “Now we should set out some snacks and let the seagulls come fetch them off his head!” Whitney suggested, laughing.

  “Whitney! That’s dangerous. Seagulls aren’t exactly friendly, you know. They could scratch him.” Heather lightly poked his nose. “And I’d hate to see his face all scratched up.”

  Whitney stood and stretched. “Time to work on my tan. Heather, is anyone looking?”

  Heather looked around. “There’s guys around. Of course they’re looking.”

  “Well, distract them or something. I’m untying.”

  “You distract them.”

  Whitney gazed down at the little head perched atop a disturbed mound of sand. “You don’t mind, do you Vinny?”

  “Not at all,” Vinny said, smiling.

  It was the perfect angle to witness heaven in the form of two fantastic orbs. Vinny knew her size; they had gone bra shopping together more than once. It was just one of the perks of pretending to be gay. Yet, each time he was totally fascinated with them.

  Whitney glanced around before undoing her top. Then, she knelt down and flattened out the material before pressing her tits into the towel. Vinny got a quick look at them before they disappeared, those majestic mounds of flesh with suckable pink nipples. He wouldn’t have minded if she lay on his face instead, wrapping his cheeks up in soft, supple cleavage.

  Whitney sighed. “You picked out this top, didn’t you?” Her face was no more than a foot away.

  Vinny nodded. “Yep. It looks killer on you.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. I wish you were a girl so I could shop for you.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  Suddenly, Vinny felt all wrong. The weight of the sand was crushing his body, pressing on his chest. For a moment, he thought he was going to suffocate. His throat was tight, and he couldn’t form any words. But it wasn’t that. There was something else, like a tingle zapping up his spine. Several tingles. The world appeared to spin around him. Vinny wanted off the ride.

  “No,” he groaned, wincing at the sound of his own voice. “Let me … let me out.”

  Whitney looked over at him. “What? What’s wrong?”

  Vinny grimaced. “The sand … it’s uncomfortable. I have to get out!”

  “I just took my top off.”

  He couldn’t take it anymore. With a grunt, Vinny freed his right hand, forcing it out of the ground. The shape of it was all wrong somehow, slender and smooth. He stared at each of the five dainty fingers, mouth agape. The second hand was the same, tinier and almost like a woman’s. There was no way it was his.

  “Hey, slow down there, girl!” Heather said.

  Vinny pulled himself out, causing sheets of sand to fall off his body. Looking down, he gasped. The hands were only the start of it, for his shoulders were equally skinny and hairless. A yellow string curved over each shoulder. Further down, Vinny saw why, and the realization almost made him scream.

  “No! It can’t be.”

  “What can’t be?” Whitney asked.

  She didn’t notice, Vinny saw. How could she not notice? Before being buried under sand, Vinny had most definitely been a guy. Now, he had a pair of tits on his chest, covered in wet grains of sand, but tits nonetheless! Still not believing his eyes, he reached down and peeled the fabric off, gasping at the sight of his own cleavage and the rosy pink nipples underneath. They were thick like a girl’s!

  Heather tried to bat his hands away. “Hey, guys are watching.”

  Vinny didn’t care at the moment. “I’m … I’m a girl.”

  “Yeah, and everyone can see that. You don’t need to take your top off to prove it.”

  Vinny gulped. Everywhere he looked, it was worse. Mentally, he resorted to a checklist, noting everything he saw that was different than before. The breasts were the huge giveaways, but the slender arms and tiny waist were evidence, too. Even his voice was different. Vinny had thought it was off before, but now he realized why.

  He was afraid of what he would find down below.

  Vinny couldn’t take it anymore. The beach was too public. All around him, eyes were watching, staring. He felt naked with his tits spilling out of his top. Seriously, that bikini didn’t look like it covered very much! Exposed and abandoned by his own manhood, he jumped out of the sand and raced for the nearest change room, ignoring the voices calling out behind him.

  This is impossible, he kept telling himself. This can’t be happening!

  The way his body moved, it was all wrong. Yet, Vinny ignored that for now. He dared not look down to see what was slapping so violently against his chest, or pause to think about why his hips and ass were swinging so much.

  The change room was just ahead, and Vinny darted into the ladies’ one, knowing that he didn’t want the extra attention from going into the wrong entrance. He went for the nearest stall and locked the door behind him.

  The mirror explained it all.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  He was a hottie! Of course, Vinny should’ve been figuring out how the hell he was going to get his manhood back, but it was true! The woman in the reflection was gorgeous, a fucking ten out of ten. Her hair was short, but styled in a way that he found sexy. Likewise, Vinny couldn’t help but ogle his own tits and curves. The yellow bikini left little to the imagination, and his gaze focused on that dark line separating his two new jiggly mounds—his own cleavage!

  They were so goddamn soft, too. Vinny couldn’t help himself as his tiny hands squ
eezed them for the first time, fingers sinking into the hairless, creamy flesh. His knees nearly buckled because of it. Shortly after, Vinny discarded the bra. There was no sense in keeping it on in privacy. Now, he gazed at his naked chest for the first time, jaw slowly dropping as he realized these new wondrous bags of fun were really attached to his body.

  As great as they were, Vinny’s mind drifted to other parts that he hadn’t seen yet. His crotch was completely flat now—a fact which the bikini bottom advertised well. Without a second thought, he pushed a hand between his legs, applying just enough pressure to feel the outline of lower lips just underneath the fabric.

  A girlish moan escaped his throat as he heard a knock on the door.

  “Vinny? It’s me.” It was Whitney. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he lied. A lot was wrong.

  “Why did you run off? Hey, just let me in.”

  Vinny unlocked the door.

  Whitney noticed Vinny’s lack of a top right away. She scooped it up from the floor and handed it to him.

  “I remember picking this out for you. It looks so good on you.”

  Vinny glanced at the mirror. He thought having his tits out would’ve been the main topic of conversation, but apparently Whitney didn’t mind it. With the bikini top in hand, he wrapped the stretchable sections of fabric over his new boobs and reached around to tie the string at the back. Whitney intervened when his fingers clearly couldn’t finish the job.

  “You can’t even do it yourself,” she joked.

  Vinny felt the material go taut in the front, as the top pulled his breasts closer together and higher up. There was so much cleavage to lose himself in, and he couldn’t stop from staring. His loins began to feel warm. Vinny didn’t want to think about what was down there, lying underneath the bottoms. Yet, he had felt it with his own fingers, the flatness of his new crotch. He certainly wasn’t a man anymore.

  Lost in this erotic moment and relishing in the arousal of his own female body, Vinny spun around and leaned in to kiss Whitney on the lips. They were right there, so plump and soft and perfect. His nipples were achingly hard.

  Whitney avoided him at the last second. “What the hell? What’s wrong with you? I’m not some lesbian.”

  “But—”

  “Save it.” She backtracked for the door. “Come back to the beach when you can act mature.”

  Then, Vinny was alone again.

  He didn’t know why he had transformed in the first place, but one thing was certain—he now had no chance with Whitney or Heather, unless either one became a lesbian. That seemed unlikely.

  “I wish they were lesbians,” he said aloud, knowing it would never come true.

  Sighing over this new twist of circumstances, Vinny turned to the mirror to get a look at his new female body again. Instantly, his fingers were under the top, kneading the generous amount of breast-flesh that the transformation had bestowed him with. It felt good to rub his nipples, to feel them swell to twice their size within seconds. He twisted each one, quickly finding the right balance between pain and pleasure to make his knees wobble.

  He glanced down. The good part hadn’t even been touched, and he was already trying to keep himself from moaning. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad change.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “How long have you been here?” Bill asked.

  “Since this morning,” Jeanne said. She looked like any other college-age bikini-clad girl, soaking up the hot summer sun on the beach. Zane had left to use the bathroom, so she had taken his spot, conjuring up a pair of stylish sunglasses in the process.

  “And you’ve just been granting wishes the whole time?”

  “Sure,” she said, as casual as ever.

  Bill still couldn’t believe it. He had seen the effects of the wishes firsthand, yet it didn’t seem possible. Genies were make-believe characters in fantasy stories. There wasn’t supposed to be one suntanning right next to him. On top of that, she didn’t look like a genie. Weren’t they supposed to be columns of smoke below the waist? Bill considered bringing that up, but held his tongue. He could only take in so much at a time.

  Slumping into the chair, Bill thought of his next wish. “I wish a hot naked lady would bring me a piña colada.”

  “It is done,” he heard Jeanee announce.

  And there she was. All Bill had to do was look to his left, shadowing his face from the sun. A hot redhead strolled toward his chair, wearing not a single piece of clothing. His gaze lingered on her firm tits and round ass. Hundreds of freckles decorated her pale skin. Bill felt his manhood stirring as she smiled, bent over, and handed him the piña colada. Her eyes twinkled.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, staring as she went off on her way, disappearing into a throng of beachgoers moments later. He didn’t see her after that. “Was she even real?”

  “Of course,” Jeanee said.

  Bill tipped the cold, perspiring glass toward his lips. The piña colada was delicious, and heavy on the rum—just the way he liked it. It tasted authentic.

  Over to his left, Tony continued to snore. Bill hadn’t noticed him fall asleep. One moment, him and Zane were going on about that dumb purple comet, discussing those crazy tabloid stories. Now, his eyes were closed, and the fat under his chin vibrated with each inhale. He wasn’t the quietest of sleepers.

  Rubbing his temples, Bill said, “I wish Tony would stop snoring.”

  Jeanee nodded. “It is done.”

  Suddenly, his friend was quiet. Bill leaned over to make sure he was still breathing. Sure enough, his chest continued to rise and fall, though his wish had made sure he wouldn’t make a sound.

  Zane arrived shortly after. “You see some lady come wandering by here?”

  Bill continued to sip on the cold beverage. “What lady?”

  “Some redhead. She stole my damn drink. Just ran off with it. You know how much piña coladas cost around here?”

  Bill swallowed hard and set the drink down. “No idea.”

  “Well, whatever. Only crazy people come to the beach, I tell you.”

  Sighing, Zane threw himself down into the same lounge chair that Jeanee was occupying. Bill feared an accident was about to happen. Instead, he phased right through her, the two bodies becoming one weird hodgepodge of male and female mixed together. Jeanee, sensing that her relaxing spot had been taken, promptly sat up and returned to her feet. Zane didn’t even notice her.

  “Jeanee, you made some woman steal his drink?”

  “It was the easiest way,” she said.

  As expected, Zane wasn’t aware of them speaking.

  “I thought you just made it up, like poof and there it is,” he said.

  “Sometimes altering reality a little is easier than rewriting it completely,” Jeanee told him, snapping her fingers to make another lounge chair appear. Out of the corner of his eye, Bill saw Tony suddenly falling to the ground. He landed in the shadow-covered sand with a soft thud and continued to snooze.

  Meanwhile, Jeanee settled herself into a relaxing position, pointing her mostly-naked body toward the sun to soak up some more rays.

  Bill could only snicker.

  Kristen was suddenly aware she didn’t have any clothes on. It was like a dream, those lucid ones that you have no control over, and you look down and see you’re completely naked. Only she wasn’t asleep, and hundreds of people surrounded her. Slowly, they began to turn their heads—the guys first. One became ten, and then it was a couple dozen. They were pointing and laughing, hollering to their friends to have a look at the girl who had gone streaking across a public beach. Mothers covered their children’s eyes, uttering rude remarks.

  Shrieking, Kristen covered herself. One arm hid her breasts, and another shielded her private parts from their ogling eyes. She couldn’t do a thing about her ass, but it would have to do. Spinning on her heel and almost tripping over a man, she raced for the nearest protection—the ladies’ change rooms.

  On the wa
y, she couldn’t remember where her clothes had gone. One minute, she was heading down to the water to meet a friend, and the next she was butt-naked and stealing a piña colada from some dude’s hands. It was like someone else had been in control, putting her in the passenger seat. All she could do was smile as she handed the drink off to some guy in a lounge chair. Inside, she had wanted to die.

  Kristen was out of breath by the time she entered the building. Luckily, the place was mostly empty. She didn’t have a plan. Her primary course of action was to escape the beach and find somewhere private. Getting some clothes to wear was another problem entirely.

  She aimed for the first stall, but stopped when she heard moaning from inside. There was more than one voice in there, perhaps two or three. On the floor just beneath the stall door was a yellow bikini.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, snagging both pieces. “I need it more than you do.”

  The bottoms were almost the right size, but the top was designed for someone a little larger in the chest. Nevertheless, it would have to do. Kristen tied the string tight, making sure it was all snug up top.

  After, she left the change room and made her way down to the water, very conscious of her appearance. She hoped her clothes wouldn’t disappear again anytime soon.

  Dana was knee-deep in the water, squealing as a wave rolled into her stomach. She stumbled for a moment. Kristen arrived just in time to stop her from falling, receiving wet hair on her lips as they collided

  “Oh, hey!” she said. “I was wondering when you’d show up.” The two untangled themselves.

  “Yeah, about that,” Kristen started, recalling her nude adventure in vivid detail. “I got distracted for a few minutes.”

  Dana turned to the ocean. “Isn’t this awesome? God, it’s so freakin’ cool!”

  It was her first time on the beach. Kristen couldn’t imagine the joy she was feeling. She herself had been going to the beach since she was little. It was just a short drive away. Dana, however, didn’t live near the coast.

 

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