by Zoe Brown
“Um, hi,” he mumbled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and covering the majority of his face with his elbow. “You—um, is it Mister Rhodes?”
“Oh—call me Ashton,” I chuckled softly and waved the formality away. I moved aside for the young man and beckoned him in. He had a small gym bag slung over one shoulder and tucked under an arm. As he stepped inside the apartment, he gave the place a slow, once-over appraisal and whistled lowly with amazement.
“Holy fuck this is… nice…”
“Oh, you like it?” I shut the door behind him and locked it, then stepped around him and showed him where he could leave his shoes. “The view is pretty fantastic. You should see it at dawn and dusk.” I stepped into the middle of the kitchen area, slipped my hands into my pants pockets, and then turned back to younger man, expectantly waiting.
“Oh, I bet – I mean, I can imagine.” ‘Greg’ removed his shoes, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, glancing at my bare feet first before he acted, his socks as well, and then pulled his ball cap off of his head and hung it on a coat peg by the front door. Beneath the ballcap, his reddish-orange hair was short and combed back. He took a deep breath while he was facing away from me, and I could see in the slight quiver of his shoulders that he was feeling nearly as awkward and as nervous as I was, but when he turned back to me again, he seemed calm, cool, and in-control of the situation. He met my eyes with his own, and now there was something like steel in them. He clearly knew what he wanted, and he was here to get it.
“So: when I’m a woman, I’m a lady, and I expect to be treated as such.” ‘Greg’ lifted his chin slightly and spoke both clearly and assertively. I found myself impressed. “I’m only here for as long as I feel safe and I want to be here. You’re a very, very attractive man and I really look forward to fucking you, but if I decide, after I transform, that I’m not comfortable with something or that I don’t want to sleep with you after all, I don’t owe you anything, you can’t make me stay, and I am free to leave whenever I want – is that clear? Whenever I go out to meet a man, I always make sure that there are people who know where I am.”
I was very impressed. I smiled. “Completely clear. And that is very wise of you.” Slipping one of my hands out my pants pockets and softly patting the marble countertop of the island beside me, I pushed two small, pink pills on a dinner platter towards the young man, and then stepped aside. Greg saw the pills and grinned, moving closer to them and reaching out a hand. “I just … have one question,” I asked, feeling my cock starting to twitch again as I watched Greg cup the small little pills in his big, flat, male hand and raise them towards his face…
“Shoot,” the young man said before he tossed the pair of pills into his mouth, poured himself a tiny sliver of wine, drank it, and swallowed them both.
“Can I…” I shifted my feet slightly and sighed, feeling awkward again. I didn’t know if this was considered kosher or not, but I… I really, really wanted to know what the transformation looked like, “watch?”
Greg turned towards me, raising one eyebrow in surprise and grinning. Now that he’d swallowed his magical elixir, he seemed to be on the verge of something close to euphoria. He laughed. “Well, yeah, sure, if you want to. I mean, most men who invite me home do.” He blushed and ducked his head away, awkwardly, “To be honest, I’m a little bit of an exhibitionist, so… if you want to, please feel free.”
Turning towards the kitchen, my guest moved quickly to snag a piece of pizza and a glass of wine before his transformation could kick in, sliding the gym bag he was carrying onto the kitchen island countertop and explaining while he ate that once he started changing into his female alter-ego, into Brianna, he – or she – would quickly lose his or her appetite for much food, and would be so horny after her change and so hungry for sex that it would be hours before she was really interested in eating again, which would suck because by then the pizza would be much too cold to really enjoy. Thus, better to eat it now, before the change really started to kick in.
Greg hadn’t gotten too far along into working on his second piece, however, before he suddenly stopped, groaned lowly, and shivered from head to toe. He shook his head once, then gasped and set the plate with pizza on it that he’d been holding in his hands back down onto the countertop of my kitchenette island and rolled his head quickly from side to side. To my surprise, a soft, almost too-quiet-to-be-heard series of cartilage and bone pop!-ing sounds could be heard as he did to, and almost unbelievably, at the same time, his semi-broad, angular male shoulders began to visibly collapse in on themselves.
“HOLY SHIT,” I whispered, softly but forcefully, feeling the hard cock in my pants suddenly stiffening to full, erect attention again as I watched the transformation begin to take hold of my guest. ‘Greg’ heard my exclamation and turned to me with a knowing grin on his face, then groaned and cried out again – “Unnngghhh—!” not in a painful-sounding way, but in a hot, sexy, sensual way that felt like it was filling the room with a lustful, intensely orgasmic energy as he tossed his head back, his upper body undulating as his shoulders continued to shrink in on themselves and his body began shedding height.
“You’re shrinking,” I muttered, breathlessly, my eyes wide with amazement and wonder as I watched the body of the younger man in front of me begin to grow smaller and smaller with every passing second.
“Yeah, no kidding,” ‘Greg’ responded, smirking, softly panting for breath, “NNnnnggg—As a man I’m right at about six feet tall, but as a girl, I’m barely five-five. It’s a hell of a drop—Oh, shit, here we gooo-OOOOH—NNNNNNNGGGGH!” He groaned and cried out again, his voice cracking loudly and wildly in middle of his last word, creaking up several steps in pitch as he tossed his head back and –and fuck, I swear to god, I almost came right then and there– beautiful, full locks of rich, vibrantly bright red hair began pouring out of his skull and down the back of his neck.
“Ohhhhhhh—ohhhhhh—OHHHHHH!!” It was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. The most sexy, hot, mystifyingly-arousing thing I’d ever been witness to. It was also one of those moments when I was reminded of just how painfully old I really was getting to be – nothing in the worlds of either my childhood or my youth could have prepared me to imagine anything like what I was witnessing would ever be remotely possible during my lifetime – it just couldn’t BE. The average-looking young man who had walked into my apartment less than ten minutes before was undergoing a swift and incredible metamorphosis into a smaller, shorter, more feminine version of himself at a rate that I just could not explain given what I understood of biology, of human nature, and of medical science. What was happening here seemed like it ought to be impossible by every standard that either my active mind or my subconscious brain could come up with, and yet – it was happening! This man was turning into a woman!
And holy fuck – it was so goddamned sexy to watch!
“Unnnh—nnnnngggg—Ahhhhhh—!” When ‘Greg’ grabbed a hold of the edge of the kitchenette island to steady himself against the torrent of changes wracking his body, his moaning, whimpering voice cracking and creaking its way slowly up and out of a male range and gradually trending towards one that sounded more and more explicitly female with each passing sound that ‘he’ made, I heard – or thought I heard – several more soft, almost inaudible popping sounds, and saw the fingers and palm of ‘his’ hand begin to twitch and shrink, softening and growing more slender and elegant with each passing second. At the same time, the short, close-trimmed (actually, they looked more like they were nibbled to their present length) nails of at the end of those fingers grew steadily rounder, glossier, and even a little bit longer as the rest of the hand similarly feminized.
I stumbled backwards a step and sat down heavily on one of the couches behind me, feeling shock ripple through me in equal proportion to my steadily intensifying arousal. This couldn’t be – and yet it was. It was so hot, and yet I could barely believe it. The hard, throbbing cock between my l
egs believed it though. I could feel my manhood aching to – to… I didn’t even know what. I just knew that whatever it was about watching the ‘man’ in front of me transform step by step, more and more into what my body recognized as a beautiful woman, the more desperately I wanted to fuck – someone, or something, maybe (right then, my right hand would have sufficed for this show), or be fucked, maybe, or …
“Ahhhhh!! Ohhh—good! Good, yes! Yes! YES!” The ever-increasing, impassioned fervor of ‘Greg’s much-more-feminine-than-not moaning and whimpering pulled my attention back out of my detached reveries and towards the event at hand again, and I looked up in shock when I saw the series of little transformations taking place across the bland, average, angularly masculine face of my guest. ‘He’ was becoming… beautiful. A series of small twitches and adjustments were being made to ‘his’ face as I looked it over: the blocky chin trembled, seemed to jerk suddenly, and then shrank away into a cute, little, rounded, feminine replacement. The same thing happened to ‘his’ nose – the big, slightly beaky object in the center of ‘his’ face seemed to twitch slightly, once or twice, and then it shrank down into a beautifully small, perfectly-formed little nose that any glamour model or beauty queen would have appreciated. The cheekbones grew more accentuated and prominent. The prominent male brow ridge receded. Any lingering facial hair ‘shadow’ evaporated while I was absorbed elsewhere. And then the feminizing features started to come in: softer lips, a perfectly-shaped and defined cupid’s bow of a mouth – it looked like it might have been carved on! – thicker, darker, longer eyelashes, arched and thinned and delicately-shaped, feminine eyebrows… within the space of two, or maybe three dozen heartbeats, ‘Greg’s’ whole, entire face shifted from ‘male’, and masculine-pronoun-inspiring, to ‘female,’ and without any further prompting on my part, my mind stopped seeing the person in front of me as ‘Greg,’ or as a man, and started seeing ‘her’ as Brianna – a woman. A younger woman, even. When ‘Greg’ had walked into the apartment, I would have pegged his age at around late-twenties, early thirties, but the increasingly-feminine person standing in front of me looked more like a woman in her early twenties now, not her late-twenties at all. A flat-chested, flat-assed, bony-hipped, straight-waisted woman in her early twenties, with no primary or secondary female sexual characteristics and an apparently large and erect cock in her trousers – or so the tent in her pants implied – but definitely a woman; and by the sound of her, a mezzo-soprano, too.
“Ohhhh, wowzers,” the younger, more feminine ‘Brianna’ cried out, laughing ecstatically while she cupped her transformed, beautified, transfixingly-gorgeous female face in her likewise smaller, softer, more delicate and feminine hands. “Mmmmm… I always love that,” she glanced over at me with a conspiratorial smile and blinked one eye’s worth of long, dark lashes at me. “When the face comes in, it’s like – I mean, a lot of girls like me tend to focus on our dicks and our vaginas, but my face…” she cooed softly and hugged herself with joy, laughing happily again, “it’s just so beautifully girlish. It always feels like the moment that I ‘arrive,’ you know? When ‘Greg’ hits the road and ‘Brianna’ is officially In-Da-House!” She fist-bumped with excitement at me and then laughed again, doing a little pirouette in the now-staggeringly oversized men’s clothing she was wearing.
Clothing that she started pulling off of herself a moment later.
Uhhhh… wait, what’s happening here? I asked myself, a little surprised by the sudden stripping. It wasn’t even really sexy stripping either. Brianna just … started pulling her clothes off in front of me. She tugged off ‘Greg’s’ leather jacket and Spiderman t-shirt first, exposing her flat, shrunken, skinny and androgynous-looking upper body and raining a dark, vibrantly-red, lusciously silken mane of womanly tresses down around her newly feminized face, falling all the way down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Then she tossed the discarded jacket and shirt into a pile by my front door, unbuckled the belt around her still-male waist, and dropped her pants a moment later. I jerked in suddenly shocked surprise when I saw the incredibly hard, straining male cock tenting out the front of her boxers, and cringed slightly at the very damp wet spot spreading across the front of her undershorts.
“Oh, hey, um…” I raised a hand and started to either object, or ask a question, I wasn’t exactly sure which, but then I stopped. I had absolutely no idea if any of this was considered normal or not. The clothing Brianna had on – or had had on, ten seconds ago, was rather ill-fitting now, I supposed, but it was still covering, um… well, one sexual organ that I wasn’t particularly interested in, at any rate. But… then again, well, fuck it, what did I know? Maybe this was just how shit was done when you hooked up with a Werewoman.
“Did you say something?” Brianna glanced up at me once she finished stepping out of her male pants and kicked them to the side, raising a finely-arched, delicate female eyebrow at me in question. She followed my gaze towards the tenting cock sticking out of her crotch and then winced. “Oh, um, yeah, that.” She hmm’d awkwardly for a second in her newly round, womanly tones and then hazarded a guess. “This is your first time with a girl like me, isn’t it?” She asked, smiling indulgently.
“Well, um,” now it was my turn to feel awkward. Normally, I was charming, suave, cool and confident, but tonight I was feeling a little bit too-turned-on and a lotta-bit too-new to all of this, and apparently it was starting to show. I blew out a heavy breath and nodded, smiling abashedly and leaning back against the seat of my couch, “I suppose it shows?”
“Yeah-huh,” Brianna teased me, gently, half-turning towards the kitchenette island and unzipping the top of the small gym bag that she, as ‘Greg,’ had brought inside with her. She reached inside the bag and withdrew an object that looked like a small, soft tube of dark cloth, and then turned back towards me, still smiling. “But you’re tall, and charming, and rich, and …” she laughed again, her cheeks coloring a little, “fuck, I really want to do you, but if I’d known, I’d have mentioned—”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I should have admitted that I was a ‘newbie,’” I conceded, but Brianna waved the thought away.
“Don’t worry about it, handsome-very-sexy-Mister-Old-Spice, sir,” she was teasing me again, and I started to return her smile, feeling a little bit more confident and in-control of myself again, at least until the moment that she unexpectedly dropped her boxer shorts, letting her hard, firm, big and erect cock swing free, its tip already very damp and sticky with her own pre-cum, and then just as unexpectedly pulled the little cloth tube – I suddenly recognized the ‘cloth tube’ as an overlapping pair of women’s tube socks – over the end of her cock and tugged it all the way on up to the hilt of her … um, manhood.
I blinked my eyes more than once and then glanced at Brianna in confusion. The foxy, beautiful red-headed girl that my guest was morphing into laughed at my expression, trying to explain – “Sorry, there’s just only a few seconds between when my face changes and when my new breasts start to come in and I don’t have a lot of time to get ready before Miss Happy downstairs starts to make a mess—” and then paused mid-sentence and suddenly moaned, long and loud, gripping the side of the counter for balance while her beautiful new mouth dropped open, her eyes flew wide and filled with lustful pleasures, and her whole body shivered. “Mmmmm…” the hot redhead vocalized, gasping for breath and clinging to the countertop of my kitchenette island for support as new sensual delights whipped through her body and arched her back up and out. “OHhhhhhh!”
The slightly sagging erection in my own pants suddenly hardened right back up again at what I saw next. It seemed like the transformation was back on again. On the flat, androgynous surface of her chest, Brianna’s small, pale male nipples suddenly grew big, dark, and thick. The areolae around them began to stretch wider and rounder about as well, swiftly giving Brianna’s nipples the look of the more generous and womanly-looking nipples that other women’s breasts frequently bore. And a moment later, her new breasts
began to come in right behind the new nipples, too! Holy shit, that’s… I had to shift a little, uncomfortably, on my couch… the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. The overly-erect cock between my legs was starting to get a little too insistent to ignore anymore, and my own breath was starting to come in shallow gasps as I got ever more intensely turned on by the dramatic results of Greg-slash-Brianna’s transformation from male to female.
“Ahhhh—nnnggg—MMMMMM!!” Brianna cried out, groaned, moaned and whimpered all within the span of a few seconds as the skin behind her newly widened, feminized nipples began to pool into two small, soft, tiny-looking molehills for a couple of brief seconds, and then began to rapidly fill out, fill up, round out, and inflate into a pair of swiftly-ripening, gloriously generous female mounds – breasts – only moments later. “Ohhhh—OHHHH!—MMMMMPH!!” The sexy young red-headed woman before me wriggled, writhed, and vocalized the pleasure she was feeling as her new breasts swiftly and sensually forced themselves out of her chest and filled up and out right in front of her – or, our – eyes.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. The more Brianna’s breasts grew, the more fixated upon them my gaze became, and the harder and more achingly-aroused my cock grew between my legs, until I started to feel my own damp, sticky precum start sliding down the head of my cock, inside my pants and my boxers. Shit I want to touch them, I kept thinking to myself, feeling a deep, aching longing within myself as I watched Brianna’s swelling, milky-white mounds move swiftly and staggeringly from flat-as-a-board triple AAAs to a pair of full, rounded, pert and pleasantly-plump B-cups – maybe even smallish-C-cups – within a matter of seconds!
