I chose to forgo underwear, considering the drawers in the small dresser beneath the television contained only women's undergarments, and the sensation of my cock restrained by the tight-fitting sweats made me conscious of potential erections, though my sex seemed to have no desire to harden.

  The next two days were a routine of the piercing injection, then Raquel or, on one occasion, Laura, guiding me to the dark room where I was inundated with pictures and words about Katie and her life. I found myself rooting for this girl, even in the brief times when I was conscious and away from the room that told the story of Katie. She was pretty, for sure, more than cute, but not quite sultry, though her body, especially in the later images, was a curvy and voluptuous one. I strangely felt no attraction to her, despite the fact that a well-proportioned young blond girl would have defined my type at one time.

  After the fourth day of such overwhelming imagery and thoughts inserted into my head by the mixture of drugs and encouraging words whispered to me, I was surprised to find Laura at the door following my shower, smiling in her distant manner.

  "Katie, the other girls are going to have lunch together. Would you like to join them?"

  "Yes, please," I said quickly, part of me seizing it as an opportunity to look for a chance to escape, another part curious about the fates of my companions. I understood that I was supposed to be assuming the role of Katie, and I would play along for now until a chance at escape came along.

  I'd spent hours scouring my tiny room, unable to find even a vent that wasn't welded in place. If we weren't the first guests of the Janus Institute, as was implied, they must have had ample opportunity to secure each room.

  "Good," Laura said with a quick nod. "Raquel will be joining you all and has asked that you wear something nice."

  "Fine," I said, and I heard the petulance in my voice.

  "That means a dress, Katie."

  "I said fine," I replied. Oddly, the tone in my voice reminded me of my own teenage years, a begrudging acceptance of rules made by someone else.

  "See you at lunch, then. You have an hour to get ready."

  As I picked through the offerings in the closet, I found myself thinking of what Katie might wear, and finally decided on a red-and-black plaid skirt that fell loosely to my knees. The top I chose was black, with sheer arms. My legs felt terribly exposed, so I found black tights and immediately had to remove them again as I felt the seam rubbing uncomfortably against my hibernating cock. With a sigh, I found a pair of black panties in the drawers and slid them up my legs, flattening my sex as they snuggled against my skin in a not-unpleasant way. The tights were added again shortly after and I slid my feet into buckled black shoes with small heels, but with enough height to make me wobble as I balanced myself.

  There was a wave of unreality when I saw myself in the mirror, unable to resolve in my mind the appearance of how I imagined Katie to look in the outfit and the broad man I saw reflected back at me. Before I could change, though, Laura had returned to collect me.

  "Oh," she said pertly, "that's a really cute outfit."

  "Thanks," I replied, a little brighter than I'd intended. As I followed behind Laura, I discovered that my attraction to her had shifted into something else, an appreciation, I suppose. Her dark blue dress hugged her body in just the right way, and her black stockings stretched seamlessly into three-inch black heels. Her movement, too, was a thing of grace, each leg moving easily before the other as she moved down the hall. I found myself trying to emulate the walk, then blushed when I realized I was doing so.

  A table was arranged for us in the main room, and I saw that my three fellow prisoners were already seated. Bill was closest as I took my seat, tugging at the skirt I wore that seemed determined to creep up my thighs with the slightest movement. His face was highlighted by blue eyeshadow and painted lips, a touch of rouge on his cheeks. His outfit was the most daring by far, a two piece pink outfit that wrapped around his chest and left his stomach exposed, including the curling black hairs around his navel that trailed to his very short pink skirt. His legs were clad in white stockings, and you could see the tops of them secured by garters, visible thanks to the diminutive nature of his clothing. His shoes were pink, too, and very tall. I couldn't imagine how he was able to walk in them, considering my own trouble with my much more modest heels. On the left breast of his top, he wore one of those "Hi, My Name Is..." stickers with the word Candi below, the 'i' punctuated with an ornate heart. As I settled, I felt Laura's hand on my chest, applying my own sticker that named me Katie.

  Ryan seemed to have fared better than the rest of us, his skirt a billowy thing that pooled around his legs, a collage of earth tones. His top was a green tank top, and a chunky shell necklace hung around his neck. He wore a similar tag, this one identifying him as Carla. I noticed his feet were mostly bare, thin sandals that criss-crossed over the tops of his feet.

  Ted, or Renee, as his tag proclaimed, wore a very tight black skirt that landed at the middle of his thighs, black hose and heels not unlike Laura's completing the lower half of his ensemble. His top was a white blouse, a lacy collar flowing from the top. I noticed his ears had been pierced, and he was by far the sunniest disposition at the table. I assumed his time with the staff had begun earlier, and I noticed the bounce of his wrist as he spoke, a feminine gesture that sold the sense of him being consumed by this new identity that had been thrust upon him.

  Raquel sat at the head of the table, greeting me with a smile as I took my place.

  "Katie, don't you look lovely," she said, her voice light and happy.

  "Thank you," I said, glancing around at my companions.

  "I really like that skirt," Renee chirped, "and that top is perfect with it."

  Ted-turned-Renee was the cheeriest among us, unless you counted Raquel. Bill, now Candi, looked humiliated, pushing a salad around on his plate and being careful not to meet anyone's eyes. Carla, who seemed to me to have gotten off the easiest in terms of wardrobe, looked sullen, too.

  My lunch was a Caesar salad with grilled salmon, delicious in fact, but it was hard to maintain an appetite. We were all very quiet, save for Renee who went on about how much she loved Candi's shoes but would never get away with them herself, and Raquel's prodding conversation starters designed to keep us all engaged.

  I'd eaten about half the salad when I felt the sting in my wrist again, and I saw by the expressions on the other faces around the table, these feminized men felt it too.

  "What did you do?" I managed, but now I was feeling drowsy, my tongue thick in my mouth. My eyelids felt like anchors were attached to them, and gravity became too great to fight. I slumped in my chair, body limp, and then I was falling, registering the thud! as I struck the floor only briefly before darkness descended.

  It was the back seat of a car, or at least appeared to be, though the world beyond the windows was all black. I shifted, raising up on my elbows, squinting to try to make out more details.

  "Hey," the boy beside me said. "You okay?"

  I turned groggily toward him, my body still floating on the seat, my thoughts as slow as cold molasses.

  "Yeah, I think so. Where are we?"

  "Boy, you really must have drunk a lot when I wasn't looking. I guess you can't hold your liquor. Not all of it, anyway."

  I shook my head slowly, trying to lose some of the fog.

  "You sure you're okay, Katie?"

  That name, he must be talking to me. I refocused on him, seeing a young man no more than twenty in the seat beside me. He was leaning close and I could smell the beer on his breath.

  "I'm fine," I said, attempting to place his face. Did I know him? He was more than ten years younger than me. Only he wasn't, he was my age. Two disparate thoughts competing in my brain.

  "Sorry, I should have noticed you were getting a little loose in there."

  In where? I wondered, but then I felt his hand on my side. I looked down and realized I was in the same outfit I'd had on at lunch. I couldn't tell if this was real or part of some dream, but the way his hand was moving up and down my side, pausing at my hip, felt real enough.

  When he leaned closer, surprising me with a kiss on the corner of my mouth, I noticed something else. I was incredibly horny. I didn't want to reach between my legs to check, but it didn't feel like I had an erection. I was burning, nonetheless, a need in me I hadn't felt since coming to the Janus Institute... what? Maybe a week before? Maybe more?

  This boy was pressing against me, his insistent petting making me dizzy. It was hard to admit to myself, but I wanted him, and the heat coming off him was like a drug and I wanted more of it.

  When his mouth pressed against mine fully, my leg slid up his, spreading wider as he angled himself between my legs. I couldn't stop myself. I didn't care that he was a young man, or that I didn't possess the natural orifice for his cock, which I could feel bulging against his jeans. I just wanted to fuck, and to be fucked. My hands were on his face, panting as I kissed him back, tasting that cheap, sour beer on his tongue, and then I was moaning, turning my head for him to kiss down to my shoulder. His hand moved to my flat chest and squeezed, pinching my nipple and making me gasp.

  "You sure you want to do this, Katie?" he asked, hovering over me.

  "Yes," I begged him, "Yes."

  His mouth returned to my shoulder, only this time he was nibbling and licking his way up, and I turned my head to meet him, kissing him back as hungrily as he kissed me. I didn't even know his name, only that I needed him.

  My legs were open for him, wrapped around his hips, dragging him toward me. He fumbled with the black top I wore, opening it to reveal a black bra I could not recall putting on. His hands were dipping into the cups, space for his exploration since I had no flesh to fill the cups of the bra, but he treated me as if he was caressing the soft breast of a woman.

  I was gasping, fighting for breath as the boy's hands roamed my body. In my mind, I could feel a strange sense of doubling, as if I were two people at that instant. One aspect of myself was a shamed, confused man, alarmed at the reality of another man's touch. The other part of me, the one desperate for those touches to continue, saw the images of Katie as a young woman, her body ripe with desire and youth.

  He was turning me over then, pushing up the plaid skirt until it rested on my back, exposed now that the top was unbuttoned and slack around my torso. His hands were hot on my body as he roughly pulled the tights and underwear down, guiding the clinging fabric to my knees. I knew what was coming, and the part of me that was still Tom registered the humiliation of it, even as Katie groaned with anticipatory pleasure.

  I heard him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, and I felt my body arching toward him in response. His tip pressed against my ass, and I whimpered at the size of it. I random thought shot across my mind like a comet, and I realized that I had never had anything put in my ass before, much less a man's cock, and my shame and need only grew in intensity.

  When he pushed into me, I gripped the cushioned back seat of the car, my hand reaching back to pull him closer and drive his shaft deeper. The degradation inside me was gaining momentum, and only by focusing on the image of myself as Katie could I stave it off. I lost myself in the thought of myself as this young woman, almost able to feel the long blond hair falling around my face, my tits barely contained by the bra I wore, my pussy slick and waiting.

  The boy picked up his pace now that I had stretched to fit him, the ache of his invading member replaced by a wave of pleasure as I imagined my soft, smooth skin colliding with his, the slap of our flesh the only sound in the car besides the ragged breaths we drew.

  With Katie in control, I responded more enthusiastically to his touch and penetration, meeting his thrusts with my own, raising my ass higher to allow him to plunge deeper still. With the abandon came a building seed of pleasure in my belly, and I pressed my hand against my own limp cock, imagining Katie's folds under my fingers. I rubbed my flaccid cock as if I were fingering myself, running my fingers over my clit as it grew wet with my lubrication. The illusion I created for myself took hold, and that pleasure I'd felt inside uncoiled and grew until it extended to every appendage, a soft and bright tingle that made the boy's pumping rhythm exuberant.

  "Oh yes..." I moaned, the firm pressure at my sex equal in ecstasy to the fullness in my ass, the deep exploration of a hole I'd never allowed to be used before.

  "Oh, fuck," the boy muttered, a bead of his sweat splashing against my bare ass. "I'm going to cum, Katie."

  "Yes," I groaned, "cum, baby. Cum inside me."

  It was all the encouragement he needed, and I felt a rush of heat as his seed filled me, dribbling from my tight hole down the inside of my thigh. The boy withdrew, slipping easily from my ass, made sticky and slippery by his cum. I twisted my body back to him, rising to find his lips and kiss him hungrily, an odd emptiness in my ass now that he'd left me empty.

  "Oh my god, Katie," he laughed, "you are so hot."

  "So are you, tiger," I purred, my legs wrapping around him as I kissed him deeper, hands fanning over his chest.

  "Can I see you again?"

  His nervousness made me giggle and I kissed him again, nodding with his lower lip between my teeth.

  "You better believe it."

  That prick at my wrist again, and I uttered a little cry of panic.

  "See you, Katie," the boy said, his smile more sinister than I'd noticed before, and the darkness returned, beginning at the edges of my vision before crowding out all other sights and sucking me into its void.

  The mirror again. Staring at my face, the familiar jawline and scratchy chin, that sense of doubling returned. I could see Katie beneath somewhere, and I realized we had the same eyes. The exact shade of brown with dark flecks. That's where the similarity ended, but I couldn't shake the idea that I was wearing a mask, and the true me was hiding beneath somewhere. I thought of the adage about sculpture being less about creation, but about chipping away the parts that hid the art beneath. It was how I felt - submerged beneath clay that needed to be chipped and sanded away until I saw Katie's round face appear, her curves made real on my blocky frame. I felt uncoordinated and heavy, too much of me to feel comfortable.

  I hadn't forgotten the car, or the events that fogged the windows from the inside. There was still some sense of embarrassment, but that wasn't the worst of it. I found myself imagining the boy's cock in my hand, or in my mouth. Or in my pussy, which didn't exist, but I could feel between my legs under the clay.

  "Katie?"

  Laura was in my room, leaning to see me inside the bathroom.

  "Are you alright?"

  I don't know what it was, whether it was the tone of concern in her voice or my own confusion, but I couldn't stop the tears from coming. A deep sob welled inside me and burst from my chest. Laura rushed to me and hugged me to her with one arm, cradling my head with the other.

  "Oh, it's okay. Tell me, what's got you so upset?"

  I drew away from her, feeling small and weak and helpless in a way I hadn't since I was a child. My lip trembled as I spoke, my voice soft ad broken by tears.

  "I don't know who I am anymore," I confessed.

  "Would you like me to show you?"

  I nodded, sniffling.

  "Good girl," Laura smiled, and led me away.

  About the Author

  www.LykaBloom.com

  Lyka Bloom has been working as a technical writer for several years before turning her attention to the kinkier side of life.

  She can be found at LykaBloom@gmail.com or on Twitter at LykaBloom1.

  You can see her other work at the Amazon Author Page.

  A Touch of Magic

  Riley couldn't quite remember the details of his conversation with Magda, only that it had ended well for both of them. He stared at the road ahead, nearly home now, feeling strangely small in the Charger. While it had always been a great car, sporty and fun, it somehow didn't seem quite... him. Actually, everything felt a little off, but his newfound peace assured him it would all be fine. He just needed rest, that's all. In no time, he'd be feeling his old self again, maybe finally ask Alexis out on a date.

  He winced as a bolt of lightning tore through his mind, and was gone. Wait, what had he been thinking about Alexis? She was cute and all, in a dark and sad kind of way, but she wasn't in Riley's league, not by a long shot. Playing with her might be fun, but a steady thing? Not hardly. She didn't have quite what Riley was looking for, and that thought elicited a light giggle.

  Once home, Riley wasted no time in mounting the stairs, ignoring a greeting from his mother and a strange stare from his sister, Deb, as they passed on the stairs. Deb was starting to fill out, but Riley would leave it to the parents to tell her what she should and shouldn't wear. If Riley had to talk to their mom about training bras, so did Deb.

  He paused at the top of the stairs and frowned. Training bras? He'd never worn a bra, much less one geared for preteen girls. Yet, he could remember that day, both of them sitting on the edge of his bed and his mother stammering her way through a conversation about the 'changes' Riley's body would go through. It was a tangible thing, as sure as his memory of his father talking to him about the dangers of getting a girl pregnant if he wasn't careful.

  It was as if the two memories had been superimposed over one another, alternate versions of the same moment in his life, and he could not tell which was the genuine memory anymore. They were both blurry and faded into and out of one another until his head was aching again. He had to get to bed, to sleep. Somehow, he knew one good night's sleep would sort it all out for him.

  Rushing into his room and locking the door behind him, Riley shed his clothes in a disorderly pile on the white shag carpet, easing himself beneath the covers and curling up in fetal warmth.

  The smoothness and lightness of his body again aroused him, and he found himself twisting and stretching beneath the comforter, enjoying the caress of the cool sheets on his flesh. His hand eased between his legs and ran over his flaccid penis, which offered little pleasure at its manipulation. Instead, his fingers rubbed either side of it, and a sensual itch tickled beneath the skin, something that promised heat and damp pleasure. He writhed in the pleasure of his body and, when he reached up with one hand to pinch his quarter-sized nipple, he exploded with bliss.

 

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