by Alyson Belle
“And how many women have you dated to try to find someone compatible?”
It was the right question to ask, but it still stung. “Not that many,” Russ admitted. “But enough to know that there aren’t many out there. Look, you don’t understand what it’s like for me. Girls with a sex drive like mine have no problems… yeah, they just need to find a guy who wants to fuck as much as they do. Lots of guys would be happy to help. But for men? It’s totally different! I have real needs, they aren’t being met, and if I can’t have what I need then I need to turn it off…”
For a moment, he worried he’d over-shared again with his little tirade, and he dropped his hands to his lap and fidgeted quietly as he peeked up to see her response. Madame Orlando drummed her fingers on the table between them, pursing her lips as if deep in thought. Again he was struck by the ridiculousness of the scene: a tiny soccer mom who should have been driving a van with 2.5 kids in the back was sitting among heavy purple drapes and little jars of brain in the mystical gloom of a fortune telling shop, talking to him about his newfound sex addiction and trying to give him relationship advice like a goddamn therapist while he begged her for a solution, which was completely insane. Magic wasn’t real, and women like Madame Orlando were just convincing liars. What did he really expect her to do? Krystal was a moron, and Russ didn’t feel much smarter than her at the moment for coming in here and looking for a solution.
Where the fuck had his life gone so wrong that he was listening to Krystal and wandering into magic shops for advice? Why the hell couldn’t he have been born with a normal, healthy sex drive that didn’t drive women away from him? Was he really that desperate?
“You have to help me,” he pleaded, an edge of desperation coming into his voice. “Look… I know all this magic shop stuff is for the sake of the rubes who come in here, and I don’t believe in any of this mumbo jumbo bullshit, but maybe hypnotism is the one thing that really does work, and if so, I need you to help me. I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t desperate.”
Her piercing green eyes flashed briefly as he mentioned ‘mumbo jumbo,’ but she quickly regained her composure and studied him for a long moment in silence. Finally she slammed her hand flat on the table and smacked it on the wood, making a loud sound that startled him.
“Okay. Here’s what I’ll do. Hypnosis won’t truly help you, but I can see you’re in a great deal of distress about your… needs. And you may be right that it’s harder for you than it would be for a woman. I agree that it’s not fair. I have something that may help… something I don’t give out unless the situation truly calls for it.”
Russ watched with curiosity as she rose from her armchair and padded over to one of the overstuffed cabinets in the room. Standing on her tip-toes, the tiny woman reached for a little satchel resting on one of the shelves and brought it down close to her eye level. Madame Orlando rubbed at the ingredients of the pouch through the fabric, testing their strength between her fingers and taking a long, deep inhale of the contents. Russ could smell something both spicy and flowery coming from the parcel even from a distance as she shook it, an unusual combination of scents that made his head spin slightly.
Apparently satisfied with the pouch’s ingredients, she came back and placed it on the table in front of him. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, mimicking her actions without really knowing why. The fabric was actually a fine white netting, tied with a light pink ribbon at the top to create the little pouch. Russ could see little dried flowers and something that looked like a star inside, but he couldn’t identify any of the ingredients by name. Holding it made him feel funny in a way he couldn’t quite explain. It might have just been the weirdness of the whole exchange, plus the environment, plus the bizarre feelings that were running through him, but before he could stop himself he blurted out something embarrassing.
“Is this… is this magic?” he whispered hoarsely.
Madame Orlando burst into laughter for the first time since he’d entered the shop, and Russ immediately felt foolish for asking such a dumb question.
“I thought you don’t believe in magic,” she teased, as her laughter trailed off. “This is just a bath bomb.”
“A bath bomb?” Russ stared at her in disbelief. “Like the things you drop in the tub to make it smell nice?”
Madame Orlando nodded. “Take a bath with this in the water. Put it under the faucet as the tub is filling up. It’s a special solution I make myself—an old family recipe. It won’t solve your problems, but it is guaranteed to relax you and let you get a little perspective on them. It sounds like you need some stress relief.”
Russ turned the pouch between his fingers, feeling extremely foolish. He also couldn’t deny he was a little bit disappointed—he’d wanted to go home and tell Krystal all about the fake psychic she’d sent him to, laughing about the watch she dangled in front of his eyes or the ‘meditative chants’ she’d played for him. Now he didn’t even have a good story to tell. Going back with just this little packet and some advice seemed entirely too ordinary for the room that surrounded them, even if he hadn’t really believed in the woman’s abilities. But what did he expect from someone dressed like a soccer mom?
A bath bomb. Russ shook his head in disbelief. I really am a moron for coming here. Time to leave.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked in a disappointed monotone. He just wanted to get the hell out of here, go home, and wallow in his misery. Enough bullshit.
“Don’t worry about paying me. I didn’t actually provide any of my usual services for you,” Madame Orlando said.
“Even for this?” He lifted the tiny pouch to dangle between two fingers.
“Call it a gift for someone in need,” she muttered, as she began dragging the armchair away from the table. For a moment he wondered why she would keep moving it around the shop and not just leave it where it stood, and he got up to help her with the heavy thing. But before he was out of his seat, she’d somehow heaved it halfway across the room and returned it to the little cove she’d pulled it from. Then she headed over to the shelf he’d knocked things down from and began to move and arrange things on it, frowning and talking to herself as though Russ wasn’t even there any more.
Russ stood for a moment in awkward silence, wondering how to respond. Finally he muttered a hasty, “Thanks,” turned, and left. As he stepped out of the shop, he rubbed the back of his head, not totally convinced that the past twenty minutes of his life had actually happened.
People around gave him weird looks as he emerged from the garish purple building and walked to his car with a little pink-ribboned bath pouch clutched in one hand. He shook his head, wondering if he looked as stupid as he felt. The sun had fully set now and the city was gearing up for a vibrant night; bars and restaurants had their doors thrown open, with music and laughter spilling out onto the streets from within. Out here, without the heavy drapes and strange objects, it was starting to feel like reality again, and he felt even dumber for launching into this whole stupid adventure.
A fucking bath bomb. That’s what I get for listening to Krystal.
He tucked it into his pocket with a shrug, sighed, and ducked into his car to start the drive home.
Chapter 3
The water turned a brilliant amber color when Russ dropped the pouch into the tub. He could see it spreading from the package of herbs and spices from the second he dipped it in his bath, the color twisting and sprawling from the little bundle like paint drifting through water. It moved quickly, claiming every available inch in the tub in just a few seconds, until he was staring at a warm pool of liquid amber, steaming gently in the air. It looked like those bath bombs he always saw advertised in the mall—the ones which turned the water into a swirling galaxy or a deep blue sea just by dropping them in. He’d always secretly wanted to try them, but it seemed way too girly to be something he could just walk into a store and buy. That would have been humiliating.
But even if it was stupid and girly,
now he could try it without having to buy one. It was as good a thing to do with his evening as any, now that it had already been ruined by the stupid trip to the good-for-nothing hypnotist. At least he’d gotten this neat bath out of her, even if she hadn’t solved his issue, and maybe it really would help him to relax a little. A little bath, a little jerk-off session, and then I can cry myself to sleep thinking about all the girls who don’t want to bang me… he thought glumly.
Gingerly Russ put one foot in the tub and then the other, lowering himself into the warm amber mass slowly. Krystal had been disappointed when he showed her the little pouch, but she’d urged him upstairs anyway to try it out, babbling something about the effects of different herbs and spices on the human brain. He hadn’t thought she was one to buy into all that nonsense—but, he supposed, she was the type to believe in psychic hypnosis, and also he was also buying into it, just a little. Here he was, after all, submerged in amber liquid that gave off a spicy, heavy scent. Placebos worked. That was proven science. If he believed it would relax him, maybe it would.
The smell filled his nose in a way that wasn’t at all unpleasant, and he leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes to just enjoy the warmth of the water resting gently over his body. The sound of the TV downstairs, where Allan and Krystal were watching some inane B-Rated horror movie, melted away in the face of the bubble bath, the hot water, and the sweeping jellification of his muscles. He let out a long contented sigh, surprised at how nice this was.
Honestly, he’d have to try taking more of these. While not a cure-all for all his problems, he could feet the water pulling the tightness from his limbs and relaxing tension he’d had since the moment Amy had broken up with him. It had only been a few minutes, but Russ was lost in the amber bath and already thinking of where he could go to get some other bath supplies. Fuck feeling fragile in his masculinity—there was no way girls got to keep this heaven all to themselves. He’d have to ask Krystal if she knew of any shops or places that sold these little things. If she didn’t, maybe she’d be willing to split the cost of shipping with him if she also ordered a few products. Hell, they could even get Allan in on the pampering and make a whole spa night out of it. Nothing girly about it.
Absently he let his hand drift down his body, feeling the unusual softness of his skin where, presumably, the herbs were doing the important work of moisturizing and soothing his skin. He cracked one eye open and was surprised to discover the bath water was actually opaque now; he couldn’t see anything below his neck except the gently churning amber liquid, even if he held his hand right below the surface. It was a strange sight to see his digits emerge from the water like sea monsters, but he quickly put it aside in his mind for another urge. Feeling how soft his skin had become thanks to the bath bomb was the perfect gateway for the burning urge in his loins that was already demanding attention once again. Russ wanted to treat himself with this bath, and giving it a happy ending was the best way to do so.
He felt around his crotch, intending to rub one out in the bathwater before he emerged from the bathroom in a relaxed haze, but somehow his cock was nowhere to be found. Had he somehow been feeling around the wrong area? But no—he saw movement in the water over his crotch where his hand was groping around at his legs. Russ felt a frown spread across his face, and he opened both eyes to stare at the location where there was no dick to be found when there absolutely should have been.
What the fuck?
With his other hand, the young man pressed down on his pelvis, feeling the bones of his hips in place where they should be. However, when he slid his fingers closer to the junction between his legs, he found that the base of his dick didn’t stop his fingers like it usually did. Russ felt soft flesh there he’d never felt before, and little strands of curly hair that he could tug at: a pair of lips, plump, plush, and sensitive underneath his touch. He moaned in surprise at how good it felt to explore the body like that, his shock at the unfamiliar sensations cut by the electric thrills of ecstasy it sent arching through him. This didn’t make any sense—it was insane. But it felt so good, scratching his itch in the same way that jerking off did, that he couldn’t stop his fingers from probing deeper. Delving between the smooth, silky lips, he found even more unexpected anatomy… anatomy he was used to exploring with his fingers, but not in his own body. There was no denying the words that would be used to describe what he was feeling: a bud set neatly between the vulva, which he recognized as a clit due to the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation that rocked through him each time his fingers brushed against the sensitive little bundle of nerves. Further down was a neat little hole that very certainly should not have been there, but that didn’t stop him from feeling two inches of fingers slide inside himself as he explored it.
What the actual fuck?
All of this felt amazing, but not in the ways that it should have! Russ didn’t have these body parts. How could he possibly be feeling what he was feeling? Moving in a sudden panic, Russ grabbed the sides of the bathtub and hauled himself into a standing position in a shower of water. He stared down at his body, trying to comprehend the fact that his view was interrupted by two, enormous globes of flesh that had somehow made their way to his chest, topped with perky little nipples that instantly peaked in the cooler air of the bathroom. Amber-colored water slid off of him like oil off water as he blinked in confusion at the hot, feminine shape that couldn’t possibly have belonged to him.
His jaw dropped open. He had boobs. And a vagina. He could feel them. The weight of his breasts swinging slightly in the air as he swayed would have been incredibly hot and distracting if he hadn’t been freaking out so much about this development.
Scrambling over the wet tile floor, Russ ran to the mirror over the sink and stared into it.
A stunningly gorgeous girl was looking back at him. A girl with hair the same shade of brown his had been, and with eyes that he’d looked at in the mirror every day of his life. A girl with soft, apple-round cheeks that were flushed after the heat of the bath and smooth, creamy skin. Golden water droplets stood out stark on her breasts, a pair of C-cups that bounced as her chest heaved with breath. Russ lifted his hand to touch the mirror and the girl in it did the same, meeting him against the cool glass with a slender arm that had lost most of its former muscle. His fingers were thinner and more delicate with tiny, manicured nails. He stared at them in disbelief. He stared at himself in disbelief. His jaw dropped open, and her pretty mouth did as well. She looked hot and dumb when she did that, and Russ suddenly realized that he was the one who looked hot and dumb.
“Oh fuck!” Russ screamed, and stumbled back from the mirror. Losing his footing on the slippery tile, he crashed against the side of the tub with a huge thud, the warmth still left on his skin quickly cut through by the cold porcelain. His mind raced a million miles a minute, trying to comprehend how in the world this could have happened.
Am I high? Did someone slip me drugs? I don’t even use drugs! He was panicking now. There was no rational explanation for what had happened… no way for him to explain the things he was now feeling.
“Russ! You okay?” Allan called from downstairs, and he tried to gather himself quickly to answer.
“Yeah!”
Shit, that wasn’t his voice. Instinctively he tried to lower his tone so Allan wouldn’t get suspicious.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! Could you… Could you send Krystal up?”
“Krystal?” His roommate sounded confused, but Russ didn’t really have the brain space to spare on how weird the request sounded.
“Yeah! Please!”
He returned to hyperventilating on the floor, obsessively feeling every single part of him over and over to see if they’d changed back to normal. Luckily for Russ, it wasn’t long before he heard footsteps on the stairs and a quick knock on the bathroom door. Krystal’s voice was slightly muffled by the barrier.
“You better cover up your dick before I come in,” she said, and he couldn�
�t help letting out a short, sharp burst of hysterical, high-pitched laughter. How he wished he could.
“Come in,” Russ told her, racing through how in the world he was going to explain himself when even he had no idea what was going on. Telling her that the magic bath pouch he’d gotten from the psychic she sent him to had somehow turned him into a woman would make him sound crazy, but he supposed she could just take a fucking look at his body if she wanted proof. It had to have been the bath—there was nothing else he’d done that night out of the ordinary. She’d been right about Madame Orlando being able to do something, though he wasn’t super thrilled with the results of her intervention.
The door cracked open and Krystal stepped inside, one hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised.
“Alright, why do you need me—”
She stopped and stared at the figure huddled on the ground, shivering slightly in the cool air and dripping wet. Russ had made a beautiful picture in the mirror, with big eyes and soft features, and he smiled at her experimentally though he didn’t feel any real happiness behind the gesture.
“Hi,” he mumbled, and Krystal continued to stare, scanning his new body up and down as if looking for the trick or gimmick that had caused it. When she found none, her mouth dropped open and she took another step towards him, reaching out to feel the wet strands of his now shoulder-length hair.
“Russ…?” she asked, her voice trailing off at the end in wonder.
“Y-Yeah,” he replied, and her eyes shot back to his face.
“What the fuck?” Krystal asked flatly, and he chuckled humorlessly before shrugging. He would have loved to have the answer.
“Can you help me? I don’t have… Clothes? I guess?”
She swallowed hard.
“Yeah, uh… Yeah, sure. C’mon.”
Krystal grabbed a towel off the rack and pulled him to his feet before wrapping him up in it. She was surprisingly gentle—more so than he’d expected her to be as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him down the hall to his bedroom. The towel felt soft and warm against his skin, which somehow seemed softer than he was used to, and he shivered in the cool air of the hallway. When he entered his room, Russ flipped on the light and made a beeline for the bed, much preferring the idea of sitting down to standing and facing whatever the hell was happening with him. His neighbor watched his new body move with open fascination, mouth locked in a constant ‘O’ of surprise.
