The Honeypot Ch. 01 [BE / Bimbofication / TG]

[LycanDope]

A young agent is tasked with sabotaging a rising politician's career and life but finds the game can change in an instant.

Chapter 1 of 3
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The heavy silence in the old room was finally broken by a tiny 'clink' sound as a crystal clear ice cube shifted in a short, heavy glass. Massive velvet curtains blocked all outside light to the room. A huge mahogany desk lived in an oasis of soft yellow light that emanated from dark green lamps. The world beyond was darkness and the pale, overweight man sitting behind the desk looked as if he had lived his entire life in that tiny realm.

A single leather-bound chair faced the monolithic slab of old wood. A much younger, slimmer man sat in the chair, his hand around a thick glass of honey hued whiskey. A second ice cube shifted in the drink and the man sighed, lifting the glass to his lips. With a practiced gesture, the young man took his cell phone from his inside pocket, woke it to check the time and then replaced it.

"I can either continue along the steady path to becoming horribly drunk," the young man said. "Or you could actually tell me why I'm here. Sir."

A minute passed. Two minutes. Finally, as if he bore the weight of the world upon his bald head, the old man slowly looked up.

"Ah, Williams. So glad you could make it. I have something for you." The old man's glasses hung from the tip of his nose, as if a raindrop pausing before its fall. Robert Williams, III stared at the other man's glasses. He willed them to either fall or for the old man to push them back into proper place. The blatant disregard for both physics and order were beginning to drive him mad.

"Oh? It must be important if you've pulled me away from Santiago. You realize I've blown my cover, don't you? Three years of work to have your assistant very publicly tap me on the shoulder. All of that work, gone. You'll be lucky if you can engineer an excuse for my sudden absence and then replace me with another agent. I'd been so close that I'd almost forgotten how to speak English."

"Very important and very time sensitive. We had no choice. Something will be done with Santiago but it is no longer your concern. Tell me, Williams, do you follow politics?"

Robert blinked. "Foreign or domestic?"

"Domestic in this case."

"No, neither, actually," Robert answered. "Well, beyond the case files and the bits I pick up in passing from the news or conversations. I'm fairly certain I know who the president is but much beyond that doesn't interest me."

The old man harrumphed. "Pity. There is a young woman, a new senator, making waves in the community. Large waves. She was recently appointed as head of an internal investigation against Senator Bowman."

"Ah," Robert smiled. "I've actually heard of Senator Bowman. Corruption investigation, yes? Accepting money from some oil company and something about a massive pipeline explosion in... Kansas wasn't it?"

"So you do pay attention. Yes. The explosion was two years ago and was what caused the food riots. They still haven't fully recovered. The investigation eventually came knocking on Bowman's door and that turned over some... unfortunate stones. The junior senator, Ms. O'Neal, has previous experience with Bowman and so was named to the committee. Our research shows that she'll be the guiding vote. As deep as Senator Bowman's pockets are, he won't survive this if it goes badly."

"And, so?" Robert asked. "Am I to seduce this Senator O'Neal and convince her to vote on Bowman's behalf?"

The old man's laugher was deep and surprisingly rich. He held his large stomach as it shook. "Oh, oh my dear boy. I'm afraid your storied charms would do naught here. The gossip around the community is that Ms. O'Neal prefers her partners to be, well, less cocky, shall we say." The man wiped sudden sweat from his heavy jowls while chuckling at his joke.

"Surely you don't mean for me to kill her, then? It would seem to be a bad idea given-"

"No," the man interrupted. "No, certainly not. We've already ran simulations with that particular scenario but every single one of them ended with Bowman in jail. Every single one."

Another ice cube shifted in Robert's nearly empty glass. "I don't like these kinds of guessing games, sir. Do I break into her house to find something to use against her? To discredit her?"

The two men stared at one another through the dim lighting. Without a word, the older man opened a drawer in his desk. From the drawer, he withdrew a small black case. Robert cocked his head. The case seemed to absorb the pale lighting and was barely larger than a credit card.

"The contents of this case cost half of Senator Bowman's entire, prodigious wealth. It is untested and rather unique. And, possibly unable to be duplicated. The lead chemist behind the project recently had an unfortunate accident when we discovered, too late, that he had a gambling addiction. We all know where that can lead in these situations. The rest of his team, biologists and geneticists, were only a small part of the whole and are unable to do much on their own. Sadly."

The old man pressed his wrinkled thumb against the top of the case. It opened with a tiny, enthusiastic electronic pop. With surprising gentleness, he withdrew a micro cylinder. Robert could see a pale golden liquid inside the container. His sharp eyes picked out nearly invisible specks suspended within the mixture.

"What is it?" Robert asked.

"They never came up with a name for it and it's untested."

"I'm sorry," Robert said. "Did you say 'untested'? You're giving me something that I'm supposed to, what? Feed her? Inject into her? Whatever I'm supposed to do and you don't know whether it'll do anything at all?"

The old man shrugged. "The project lead... died before creating additional batches for testing. His notes are incomprehensible and incomplete. This is all we have. Theoretically, it should work."

"Theoretically." Robert deadpanned.

"It's not our job to make it work. It's our job to deliver it and walk away. Our client pays whether it does what was intended or whether it does nothing more than give her a minor headache."

"And?" Robert asked. "What is it supposed to do?"

"It," the old man cleared his throat. "It is supposed to make her insatiable. Sexually. Unable to hold back her libido, she will, sooner or later, disgrace herself. We'll have camera teams following her discretely until it takes effect. Ideally, we'll catch her with another woman or multiple women and that may be enough to discredit her. She's never made her orientation public and shies away from the question when asked. The news companies would be in a frenzy and, at a minimum, she'd be made to step down due to the distractions caused."

"Surely there's a more simple way? Bowman is incredibly wealthy and this overly complicated plan seems cartoonish. Why not just fabricate something or dig into her past? There has to be something there. Everyone has their dirty little secret."

"Perhaps. Senator O'Neal is surprisingly clean. She's clever, smart and scrupulous. A dangerous combination for a man like Senator Bowman. We've yet to find anything strong enough to break her. However, even if we had, I suspect Bowman would rather this method. There's history between the two. For some reason, Ms. O'Neal has made a strong effort to bring Bowman down. And the man himself has given her plenty of ammunition, unfortunately."

Robert rolled his shoulders. "Childish. But, we still get paid?"

"Oh yes. Regardless of the outcome."

"All right. What do I need to do?"

The old man smiled widely, his misshapen, nicotine yellow teeth appearing darker in the low light.

-----

Robert adjusted his tie as he stepped through the heavy doors of the hotel bar. He looked down his body for the third time that evening in order to ensure his tuxedo was immaculate. Satisfied, he stepped fully into the bar. Light music played from a live piano in the corner and muted conversations filled the room with a low level hum. Robert surveyed the area, eyeing every single woman. His eye lingered on a few of the more attractive ones before continuing. Finally, he found Ms. O'Neal sitting at the bar. She had a champagne flute on the reflective wood of the bar and a small notepad next to it. She wore a cream colored blouse and a short black skirt. Her medium length brown hair was held up by two black lacquered sticks.

Well, Robert thought. Perhaps this won't be as boring as I thought. She's not as unattractive as her dossier makes her seem. He made his way to the bar, smiling at random women while threading his way through the various tables.

The bartender appeared as soon as Robert stood next to Senator O'Neal's stool. The woman glanced up at Robert before bending back over her notebook. Her neat handwriting filled the entire page but the lighting was too dim to make anything out.

"Whiskey. Neat." Robert sat and stared in the distance. Mentally, he ran through various options on how to deliver the solution. From the notes, the chemical was easily deployed; it would work ingested, through skin contact or inhaled. Finally, he decided the glass of champagne presented a perfect opportunity. The color matched the liquid from the vial and should mask whatever taste it had. Hopefully.

Robert looked over at Senator O'Neal. "Usually when people come to a bar, they come to escape work." He nodded at her notebook for emphasis.

Senator Samantha O'Neal (R-KS) looked sideways at Robert. "I don't really have a typical job; I can't ever really just put it all away."

"Ah," Robert nodded. "Let me guess - CEO? That's me, too. Small electronics company. Although I mostly herd cats and sign checks. Well, and come to nice hotel bars to relax. I'm in town for a sales meeting. Mostly I'm just here to nod my head while my product managers talk their talk."

The slim woman next to him turned back to her notebook. "No, not a CEO. It hardly matters, however."

A sudden burst of laughter gave Robert the perfect opportunity to perform another quick survey of the room. The darkened overhead lights were naturally to his benefit. One other person sat at the far end of the bar, a middle-aged man well on his way to being drunk. The rest of the tables were set far from the bar and most of the people were facing away from him. Only the bartender remained a threat. However, the young man's attention was elsewhere as he kept glancing at the ornate clock set among the array of liquor bottles lining the bar shelves.

Perfect, Robert thought. He reached into his pocket to palm the small vial. Now, how to do it? The senator's glass of champagne was still nearly full and she didn't seem tipsy so he assumed it was her first glass. He would only need an excuse to reach over her glass and... He smiled to himself as an idea struck.

"Excuse me, bartender?" Robert asked.

"Yes, sir?"

"What's the bottle over there on the right? The black label one? I think I had that exact same one on my last trip to Madrid and it was exceptional. No, not that one. The one... no, the one over to the right. No. More. It's, look here, this one." Robert popped the small vial's cap off with his thumb and index finger. Years of training and natural reflexes kept his hand steady with machine-like precision. He reached forward, hand pausing over the senator's glass. With a twist of his wrist, he pointed at a random bottle of the bar's shelf. The bartender turned to look and even the senator glanced up out of habit as a tiny stream of liquid splashed into the thin champagne flute. He withdrew his hand almost immediately. "Yes, that one. Perfect. May I see the bottle, please?"

Robert turned the bottle of scotch over in his hands, pretending to read over the label as he watched Senator O'Neal from the corner of his eyes. Finally, he smiled and handed the bottle back.

"Was it the same one, sir?" The bartender asked, obviously not caring whether it was or not.

"No, I'm afraid not. Similar but not the same. I clearly remember a busty young woman on the label. Of course, by the time I'd had it, I was nearly drooling on the counter so perhaps I just imagined it. Still, thank you for indulging me."

"Of course, sir," the bartended replied.

The senator's pen made small scratching noises against the notebook's paper as she wrote her notes in a neat, small script. Robert waited, patiently sipping on his drink while appearing deep in thought. His heart raced when the senator reached for her glass. She held it with her left hand, frowning at her notebook in concentration. She crossed her previous sentence out before adding a few more words. Mid-sentence, Senator O'Neal took a large swallow of her drink and then set it back down to finish what she was writing.

And, done, Robert told himself. Possibly the easiest job I've ever taken. He continued to watch the woman from the corner of his eye. He had no idea how long it'd take for the formula to take effect or what the trigger would be.

The more Robert watched the senator, the more attractive he found her to be. In fact, her self-confidence and concentration added to her charm. He usually found himself bedding women nearly half his age. Mostly mentally immature young girls that were dazzled by a fast car and expensive hotel rooms. He'd never had a senator, though. And with what that chemical was supposed to do, perhaps now he would.

Robert turned to the other woman. She didn't look any different as she stared at her papers but perhaps she just needed a push. He grinned at her.

"I'm sorry," he told her. The knowledge of what she'd taken made him more bold than usual. "I know you're in the middle of work but what do you say you put all of that away and take me up to your room. I bet you're just dying to feel-"

She was faster than he expected and he just barely had time to blink as the woman's drink splashed across his face.

"You're a disgusting pig," the senator said, her voice a harsh whisper. Her eyes were steel and her thin, hard lips were pressed in a line. "I don't know where you get off, thinking I'm some loose, desperate woman to take any man that comes snorting after me but you're wrong. I look forward to the day your kind dies out and misogyny breathes its last breath. Crawl back into the sewers where you belong, you sexist, arrogant asshole."

He watched her gather her things as he cleaned himself up. So, not fast acting, I guess. Would've been nice to know ahead of time. If it even works at all. Damn foolish plan.

With a chuckle, Robert finished his drink and signaled for a refill. He was on his fourth drink, and happily tipsy, when a young, mousy woman sat two stools down from him at the bar. He watched her openly, well past the point of caring whether he was being too obvious or not. She had short blonde hair with bangs that nearly hid her entirely forgettable face. She was obviously playing dress up in an attempt to appear more sophisticated than she really was. It appeared that she had browsed through a high end fashion catalogue and then tried to match the outfits with a vaguely similar selection of clothing from Target. Nothing fit exactly right and the colors were off enough to be noticeable.

Perfect, Robert thought. Grabbing his drink, he made his way over to her while the woman dug nervously through her purse to find her ID.

"Hi," Robert told the young woman. "Mind if I sit?"

Startled, the girl stared back with wide eyes while clutching her purse to her lap. "Y... no. I mean, sure, go ahead."

Robert swallowed the last of his drink and then nodded at the new bartender for another. The evening shift bartender was older and more on top of his game. Both of their drinks arrived quickly, quietly and efficiently.

"First time here?" Robert asked.

The young woman nodded as she took a too-large sip of her drink. She made a face and then blushed.

Robert smiled at her. "It's a good place. I'm here on business. I own my own trading firm and I'm in town to look at a few prospects. Just because I'm worth millions doesn't mean I'm not careful with my money, you know?" He watched her carefully as he spoke, watching her eyes light up at 'trading firm' and then even further on 'millions'. He held out his hand. "James Buckley. My friends call me Jim."

With another too-big gulp of her drink, the young woman nervously shook Robert's hand. "K... Karyn."

"Are you in town for work?"

"N... no. I... I'm treating myself to a mini vacation. I was in the spa and pool earlier and, oh, did you know the water is heated? The pool water."

Robert gave Karyn his best patronizing expression. He found that for women like her, it worked wonders on their confidence. "Oh. That's nice. I'm sure. I've never used it since it's far too public for me. But, I'm sure it's quite nice."

Karyn blushed deep red with embarrassment. "I... I thought it was." She tried to take another sip of her margarita and seemed surprised when it was nearly empty.

"Would you mind if I got your next drink for you? I've been sitting here drinking alone the entire evening and I wouldn't mind the company and it'd only seem fair for me to pay." Without waiting for an answer, Robert raised his finger to catch the bartender's attention. "Another for the pretty lady. On my tab, please."

"Th... thank you." Karyn's blush was a mixture of pleasure and a reaction to her low tolerance to alcohol. Robert grinned back at her.

When the drink arrived, Robert raised his glass in a toast. "To evenings spent drinking alone. And nights spent in the company of others."

Not knowing how to respond or what to say, Karyn shyly clinked her glass against Robert's glass.

-----

"So then I said, 'Darling, if you want to see the whole thing, you'd better take a bus over to the next city and stand out of the way.'" Robert quipped, his head a warm buzz from his sixth glass of whiskey.

Karyn snorted with laughter and then covered her mouth while giggling. She was on her fourth drink and had been drunk since halfway through her third. The shy girl was replaced with a perpetually smiling, flushed young woman. It almost made her attractive, Robert decided.

"You're so funny," Karyn slurred. "Funny and handsome and rich and funny."

"Oh? Handsome, huh?"

"Yes. Yes. Handsome." Karyn repeated, trying to focus on her drink. "You're-"

Robert leaned forward, surprising the woman with a light kiss on the lips. Her mouth parted for him and their tongues met. Karyn moaned as Robert's hand brushed her breast, trailing down to grab her hip. He was pleased to find her slim beneath her terrible clothes. The young woman gripped at his thigh, nearly clawing at him in her drunkenness. When they broke apart, she stared at Robert cross-eyed, her mind a million miles away. She licked her red lips as she composed herself.

"I have a room," Karyn said.

"I know you do," Robert said with a smile.

"You could come to my room. Up to it. There's a bed."

"Oh?" Robert leaned forward, his lips brushing the young woman's ear. She shivered at his touch. "Do you want me, Karyn? Tell me you want me and I'll come with you."

"Yes. Yes. God, yes. I want you."

Still whispering, he continued. "What do you want, Karyn?"

"I want you. I want to feel you inside of me. I want to suck on your cock. James. I want you to fuck me. Oh god yes." She tried to kiss him again but he pulled back and smiled as she stared at him, confusion on her face.

"I want you to give me a hand job right now, Karyn. Right here at the bar."

"But... but..."

"And then I'll go up with you. Just a few strokes to show me you mean it. That you want me that bad."

Karyn looked around, swaying in her seat. Her face was a deep scarlet as she bit her lip. Turning back, she gingerly touched Robert's belt, working to find a way to undo it through the drunken haze consuming her. Robert stopped her.

"Good girl. I just wanted to see if you'd try. You're a good girl."

"Yes. Yes, I'm your good girl."

Robert dropped a wad of cash on the table and then stood. Karyn stood with him, steadying herself on the stool next to her.

"After you, Karyn," Robert smiled. He followed her through the dark room, into the lobby and to the elevators. When the doors closed behind them, he pressed into her, kissing her hard again, tongue twisting and writhing against hers. She moaned when he reached his hand down the front of her skirt. He felt the smooth skin of her lower stomach and then her mound. She'd missed a few hairs when she'd shaved but, oh, she was wet. He smiled through his kiss when her moan deepened. His fingers pressed into her, feeling her slick wetness. He pulled off of her as the elevator slowed. She reached for him as the doors opened and he gestured to the hallway.

Karyn walked out of the elevator, nearly crashing into the opened doors as she stumbled drunkenly into the hall. Robert sniffed his finger when her back was to him. She smelled sweet and he felt himself stir.

The walk to Karyn's hotel room was short and she didn't wait for him before opening the door. Robert stepped in and closed the door behind him, locking the security latch. It was a tiny room and as simple as he expected for someone like her. She was already in the bedroom area, sitting on the bed, unsure of what to do next. Robert stood next to her, looking down at her.

"Unbutton me, Karyn. I want to feel your mouth on me."

The young woman barely hesitated. She fumbled at his belt until it came undone and then worked the two buttons of his black slacks, finally unzipping him. If nothing else, she was eager and that pleased him. Robert ran his fingers through the woman's hair as she pulled his underwear and pants down. He sighed as she took him in her mouth. She was warm and wet and she knew exactly what she was doing.

Robert unbuttoned his shirt and finished undressing while Karyn sucked him off. He stood before her, naked, watching her while she squeezed and rubbed and sucked on him. Finally, he pulled her away and then frowned. He wasn't even half erect.

Karyn stripped quickly on the bed, throwing clothes off to the side one after the other while Robert massaged himself. He didn't feel like he was drunk enough to not get hard and she'd been surprisingly good at the blowjob. So why-

Looking up, Robert saw Karyn naked with her legs spread and her heels on the edge of the bed. She was fit and her breasts were firm with thick pink nipples straining in the air. Robert felt his cock stir but watched as it simply shifted, still mostly soft. Karyn moaned in front of him, her fingers playing with her clit, spreading herself open to show her petite pussy off to Robert. She dipped a finger carefully between her lips, arching her back as she fingered herself slowly. Robert shrugged away his concern and went to her, grabbing her hips to push her further up the bed.

Robert lay between her legs, pressing his cock against her as he kissed her deeply. Karyn's fingers worked against his muscular back, clawing and massaging as he grinded on her.

"Please. Please, I need to feel you in me. You're driving me wild. Please." Karyn moaned, over and over. "Oh god, I want to feel your cock inside of me. Filling me, opening me. I want you deep inside, fucking me hard."

With a grunt, Robert reached down. He loved when a woman talked. When she told him what she wanted. When she begged for it. But, even now, with Karyn begging and the feel of her slick, firm body against him, even now he wasn't hard. He grit his teeth and pulled the skin back on his cock, making himself as hard as possible so he could press himself into her. Karyn twisted above him, digging her fingers hard into his back. He held himself for a moment, pressing as deep as he could before letting go. He moved and felt himself almost slip out so he pressed in again as hard as he could and held himself there. The woman moaned again, begging him to fuck her hard, to pound into her but Robert only felt shame as he made small movements so he could stay in her. Thankfully, she was incredibly tight.

It was with great surprise when, suddenly, barely minutes into finding a position that kept him in place, Robert orgasmed. He didn't feel the warning signs or the start of it; one moment, he was thrusting into Karyn and the next, he felt himself twitching and cumming. Robert yelled out in surprise.

"Did... did you cum?" Karyn asked.

"I... yeah. What the hell?" A small part of him wanted to apologize but his pride forbade it.

"Hey, it's okay. You had a lot to drink. It happens. I know."

"No, it... it... dammit."

"No, really. S'okay. I'm totally wasted anyway so probably can't get off. Just lie down with me. Sleep it off and wake me up with morning sex. It's okay. Just lie with me."

Robert grimaced. He didn't want to start a scene by just leaving so, instead, he pulled the blankets back and covered both of them. Karyn immediately pressed herself back into Robert's stomach. He automatically reached over to cup her breasts and she sighed in contentment. She felt warm against him and her thighs were slick with cum and the smell permeated the small area. Robert felt himself stir at the scent of their sex. With his eyes closed, he could picture it - his cum spurting into her tight pussy, slowly oozing out of her to cover her thighs. Thick and white and-

Warm and comfortable with a belly full of whiskey Robert drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

-----

A group of drunk young man passing in the hallway outside woke Robert from his sleep. He found himself in the same position as when he'd fallen asleep. Karyn's breathing was deep and steady against him. Robert carefully pulled himself off of the young woman. Moving as slowly as possible, he eased himself out from under the blankets in order to stand by the bed. Karyn shifted once, twice and then lay still.

Moving quietly, Robert dressed himself in the near darkness of the small hotel room. Once dressed and with his eyes adjusted to the dark, he glanced a last time at the bed. The sooner I forget this night, the better. Jesus Christ. That was embarrassing as hell, he told himself.

The door was surprisingly quiet as he unlatched and opened it. He left and closed the door with a soft 'click'. Finding the elevator took a moment but from there it was a short walk outside. Two orange and white Prius taxicabs waited near the entrance of the hotel. Both drivers were standing and talking with each other but turned as he approached.

"Airport?" The first one asked - a young black man dressed in white pants and a Hawaiian shirt.

"No. Downtown. 11th and Pike."

"Perfect. Hop in. I'll get you there."

Robert took the seat behind the driver. The car was pristine and smelled vaguely like cinnamon. Sensing his mood, the driver left him alone as he pulled away from the curb. Bright lights faded into darkness as the driver merged onto the interstate. Robert leaned against the car window, feeling the coldness of it against his forehead.

He smelled of sex.

Bringing his fingers up to his nose, he breathed in again. Karyn's scent was still strong but there was something else, too. Glancing at the driver to make sure his view was blocked, Robert slouched back to reach into his pants. He dug his fingers between his thighs, rubbing and pressing . With another look at the cabbie, he took his fingers out. There. That smell. The smell of both of us. Jesus, that's good. Robert felt drool pool at the back of his mouth. His cock stirred again, shifting and twisting without growing hard.

The smell of his cum called to him. Mixed with Karyn's scent, it was intoxicating. He held his fingers to his nose while he rubbed himself, wriggling his ass slightly as he closed his eyes, again picturing Karyn's lithe body beneath him. He was hard in his imagination. Fucking her hard while she screamed his name. He fast forwarded to his orgasm. The image of himself vanished and, again, he thought of the feeling of his cum spurting out, filling Karyn. Robert licked his lips at the thought of her rubbing herself, tasting his cum. Taking globs of his cum into her mouth, moaning and twisting as she sucked on her fingers, cleaning them.

Just like he was moaning and twisting in the taxi. Just like he was sucking on his own fingers right now.

Robert froze. The driver was taking the exit for his apartment complex, smoothly changing lanes and braking for a stoplight. What the fuck am I doing? He asked himself? He yawned, covering his mouth. I'm just exhausted is all. And drunk. This whole night is wrong and I just need to sleep.

The driver pushed a few buttons on his dashboard. "Here you go, man. 11th and Pike. Total comes to $12.75."

As if in a daze, Robert unbuckled himself and pulled his wallet out. He passed the cab driver a $20 and told him to keep the change as he stepped out of the cab. The taxi drove off as he made his way to the front door through the cold night air. He yawned again. Sleep pulled at him and he fumbled for his key to unlock the glass entry doors. He shuffled through the hallway, barely making it to the elevator before leaning against the walls inside. The 'ding' of the elevator arriving on his floor woke him from half-sleep and he forced himself awake.

"Just... just one step... one step... after... another," Robert told himself, lurching forward. He cursed as he dropped his keys while trying to open his apartment door. It took three tries before he was able to open the lock and then he was inside. Robert kicked off his shoes and then briefly considered trying to strip naked. He yawned again and opted to just fall into his bed.

Robert was snoring within seconds. Nearly an hour later, he moaned, gripping at his bed sheets. Beneath his silk shirt, his right nipple hardened. Robert bit his lip in his sleep. The skin immediately surrounding the nipple darkened slightly to a near brown. His small, useless nipple twisted beneath his shirt, pulling at the skin around it. As it twisted, it grew, the darkened skin surrounding the small nipple, adding to it. Robert's shirt shifted as his right nipple thickened. Soon, his left nipple followed. Twisting and growing until both nipples stood erect, pressing against Robert's silk shirt.

A small drop of milk pushed from Robert's left nipple, darkening the shirt above in a tiny circle. Robert gasped quietly in his sleep and then settled again.

[Sephie]

In the opening sentence instead of saying "clink" sound I would just use clink as an onomatopoeia.

[roycet000]

Excellent first chapter! Can't wait for more!!!

[tghawk555]

When you say "bimbofication," does that mean we can expect to see a bubbly and brainless woman, or are you leaning more towards the sex-obsessed "slut?" Also, how fast is the change going to occur? Very quickly, slowly but within the course of an hour (ish), or over a few days (or more)?

[AlphaMatrix]

This is an interesting story. Keep it coming.

[LycanDope]

Thanks, everyone! @tghawk, ummm.... I guess you'll have to read the story as it comes out? That'd kind of be giving stuff away, wouldn't it?

[LycanDope]

The Honeypot Ch. 02 [BE / Bimbofication / TG]
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The muted chirp of Senator O'Neal's cellphone brought her up from the depths of a bright and sunny dream. She clutched at the dream as she woke; rarely were they as happy and simple as the one she was waking from. Usually, she dreamed of huge, dark figures moving slowly across a shattered landscape. She was nearly always being chased by something in those dreams while, around her, people screamed in pain and terror. And, so, she desperately grabbed for the wispy strands of her fading dream while her phone continued to ring.

She sighed when her phone stopped mid-ring. Gray light filtered through the translucent hotel curtains and she knew she'd have to wake up soon. Instead, she pressed her face deeper into the thick, uncomfortable pillows. Weren't there puppies, she wondered. In the dream, I think-

"Senator," came a quiet, respectful voice from the hallway outside her room. After a pause, the figure knocked. "Senator, are you awake?"

Senator O'Neal groaned. Unable to put off her duties any longer, she sat up, her brown hair falling to her shoulders. She yawned, stretching to work out the kinks in her back and shoulders. She stood, naked but for her black panties, and then shivered in the cool morning air. Her left nipple tightened in protest against the sudden lack of warmth. Grabbing her green silk robe, she pulled it on, tying it tightly around her slim waist.

"Senator," the voice called again. "You wanted me to make sure you were awake on time."

"It's okay, Paul," Senator O'Neal answered. "I'm up." She shuffled along the thick carpeting, relishing the way it tickled at her feet. Unlatching the security lock, she opened the door to let her assistant inside. Paul Cox stood impeccably dressed in a suit and tie with his black hair slicked back. "I'll start getting ready if you'll pack my things. My notes are next to the laptop."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll have a limo arriving in roughly an hour but I can delay if you need extra time."

"No," she told him. "It's fine. But, the Town Car, not the limo, please. I've done as much prep work as I can and it's just a simple media event, not a hearing. I'm sure I can handle whatever curveballs come my way from whomever Senator Bowman has planted in the crowd."

"I know you can, ma'am. I'll have everything ready. There's a Starbucks downstairs as well. Sixteen ounce vanilla Frappuccino?"

"Oh, yes. That's absolutely required. Thanks again, Paul."

Senator O'Neal turned away, padding over to the large bathroom. Her silk robe slid along her body as her hips worked. She surprised herself by finding the light touch of the cool fabric to be nearly sensual. Nearly as light and erotic as April's touch. She sighed mentally. It'd been almost a month since she'd seen her lover and their encounters had become increasing secretive as the media decided more and more to try to make her orientation their business. And, thus, the business of the rest of the world. She grit her teeth in frustration. Never mind that almost every week, another state legalized same sex marriage. Never mind that they lived in the 21st century. All that mattered was the supposed sensationalism of the story.

And so, Paul, she told herself with yet another sigh. Senator O'Neal stood in front of the tri-fold mirror of her bathroom. Untying her belt, she shrugged her shoulders to let her robe slip to the ground. She could hear Paul moving around beyond the closed bathroom door. She counted herself lucky to have him as he seemed honest and genuinely nice - a rare commodity in her line of work. A little less than six months ago, she'd been forced to hire him as her assistant in order to allay more rumors of her sexuality. Of course, people still knew she was gay but quite a few were superficial enough that simply having a male assistant mollified them.

Turning left and right slightly, she looked herself over. Slim, skin still smooth and pale from long days spent indoors. Senator O'Neal ran her hands lightly down her sides and along her narrow hips. She noted a few stray hairs she'd need to trim. Her left nipple was still oddly erect. She poked at it with a cocked eyebrow. April loved her little pink nipples. She looked back at herself in the mirror and, in her mind's eye, her lover appeared behind her. Warm and soft. She could almost feel April's breasts pressing against her back. Her lover was just under six feet tall, nearly half a foot taller than the senator. She'd feel her lover's bush against the gentle curve of her ass as long, smooth arms wrapped lovingly around her, just around her pert, small breasts.

Senator O'Neal groaned quietly as she pictured her lover. She grew wet as she leaned against the bathroom sink, spreading her legs slightly. Her nipples ached, pulsing in time to her heartbeat. April's large hands would slide down her naked back and along her hips, holding her tightly. Senator O'Neal moaned. She worked her hips in small movements, rocking them back and forth against her imaginary lover.

'Mouth or fingers,' April asked in her daydream. Her ghostly lover's fingertips ran along Senator O'Neal's spine and the women shivered at her touch. She could feel her wet lips rubbing slightly together and she spread her legs further apart while arching her back.

"No," Senator O'Neal whispered with her eyes closed. She felt a heat, deep within herself. It burned from her chest to her stomach to her pussy. She was nearly feverish with it and swore her lips were swollen. Her lover's mouth would feel amazing but only on the surface and she ached so badly deep inside. Fingers.... they could never reach far enough. She needed to be filled. She had to be opened wide, to have every inch inside of her wetness touched. The senator whimpered. She ached so badly. She was so empty. "The... no. I need more. I don't... god... I..."

Her soaking wet pussy lips separated slightly. Senator O'Neal could barely breathe as the fire raged through her body, burning out rational thought. Her hand reached between her legs of their own accord and the woman's knees trembled as all five of her fingers touched her swollen mound. She held her fingers together, turning her wrist to reach as well as she could.

Senator O'Neal's fingers slid easily between her engorged lips. She'd never been so wet in her entire life. She buried her fingers past her second knuckle. Her hips dropped from the sudden sensation and she almost collapsed to her knees. Beads of sweat broke out along her brow and she gasped for air, her voice making small squeaking noises.

It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. She couldn't do more with her fingers from her awkward angle. Senator O'Neal whimpered again. Her mind struggled against the heat. She needed to be fucked. She needed to be filled. Her whole body ached until she could feel it in her teeth.

As she frantically tried to fuck herself with her fingers, small bones popped in her hips. Senator O'Neal kneeled on the ground in front of the sink and then rolled to her side, gasping for air with her legs spread and her hand frantically pumping between her legs. Bones cracked around her tailbone, fragmenting, and she couldn't feel a thing. Her ears roared, burning to their tips and her mouth worked soundlessly. Muscle and fat tissue pushed gently at her waist.

Rolling to her chest and knees, Senator O'Neal arched her back again, raising her ass as she tried desperately to find a position that would allow her to push deeper. Above her fingers, skin bulged slightly. Her nearly non-existent ass expanded. The senator rocked her new hips hard while she fucked herself, face to the cold ground. Her taut, petite ass was gone. Now, her ass cheeks slapped together wetly while she frantically worked her fingers.

Senator O'Neal's nipples brushed over and over against the ground. Her nipples, small and pink, thickened, doubling in size. Slowly the nipples pushed closer to the ground as her breasts filled. Her small b-cup breasts grew to c-cup and the nipples dragged along the cool tile, back and forth, driving the young woman even more wild. Her breasts bulged further, adding a cup size until the skin and nipples flattened against the ground.

Her orgasm eluded her. Her fingers weren't enough. Not nearly enough. She ached so deep inside that she didn't think she could reach it even if she were able to fist herself. Her mind was savage, lowered. It had one need. The senator pushed herself back up to her knees. Her right hand was completely covered in her thick cum and she absently sucked at her fingers. She sat back on her heels with her larger, softer ass. Her nipples were low and painfully erect on her firm breasts. Senator O'Neal's eyes searched the bathroom. Nothing looked right. The bathroom soap bottles were far too small. The head of the hotel hair dryer was too short. Nothing had knobs and nothing was long or thick enough or....

Paul, she thought. Her mind was wild. Chaotic. All rationality was gone, scrambled by the heat she felt. He could. He could fuck me. Oh fuck. He's got a cock and he could press it deep into my web pussy until I felt the end of it against my body. God. Hot and hard and thick. He has to. He has to do it.

She reached eagerly for the door but her hand stopped an inch away. She frowned at it, lips turning into a pout as she tried to understand why she stopped. She stared at her hand. The light reflected slightly off of the clear cum coating her hand. The bathroom, as large as it was, smelled strongly of sex and she could feel how slick her thighs were from it.

Her body ached for an orgasm. It demanded to be fucked senseless and she was panting from the need. She knew that all she had to do was open the door and Paul would be there. She knew it, even through the fuzz in her brain.

But, she couldn't. Her hand wouldn't move. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ache melted away, focusing into a ball in her stomach. As she sat, her thighs thickened. Her smooth skin tightened as her legs swelled to match her larger ass and hips. The effect was subtle enough that she didn't notice.

"What," she gasped. "What am I doing? I almost..." Senator O'Neal came back to herself as a thin line of blood dripped from her nose. She felt drugged and slow, as if recovering from a night of heavy drinking. The young woman pressed her hands to her stomach but the ache wouldn't go away. It hurt but it also made her want to wriggle her hips a little. The feeling was not unlike someone biting on her nipple, painful and pleasurable all at once. The senator struggled to her feet, swaying under a new weight and center of balance that hadn't existed minutes away. Her larger breasts lay flat against her chest and she massaged them gently. They were sore to the touch and the massage felt good. Too good. When she felt the ache starting to expand again, she dropped her hands and shivered.

Senator O'Neal started her shower, feeling the water until it ran hot enough for her tastes. She breathed in the steam and sighed as it helped to clear her mind. Blood fell unnoticed from her nose in small drops, quickly vanishing under the hot steam. The young woman stepped in carefully, bowing her head under the hot water. The last few minutes were unclear in her mind, slipping away as if they were a fading dream.

"That was terrifying," she told herself. Her hands worked soap along her body, slipping along her hips and along her ass. Something tugged at her thoughts but vanished when she tried to focus on it. The water and soap felt wonderful along her body. She cleaned carefully along her still swollen pussy lips, ignoring the ache that threatened to escape from her stomach.

She knew she was stronger than the urge to touch herself. That whatever happened was just her missing April and the stress from... from... from what? What was she doing? The... thing. There was a thing. A meeting? With a group of people. They... what? Her fingers explored her sex carefully, fingertips along the edge, lightly tracing just on the inside. A single finger dipped between her slick lips. Muscles along the length of her vagina tightened. A second finger joined the first and her pussy gripped both fingers greedily. The people... they... people...

Senator O'Neal froze. No. No, this isn't right.

A polite knock made her squeak, a sudden rush of fear pushing away her need to cum. "Senator O'Neal? We have thirty minutes until we need to leave. I've laid some clothes out on the bed and I'll be waiting outside."

"O... okay!" the senator answered. Pieces of it came back to her. She was supposed to meet with people to talk about something that happened. She'd spent the night before writing down notes and things to talk about. It was important. It was... right. Senator Bowman. And the money he'd accepted for turning a blind eye. More details followed the others until she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. The ache retreated once more and the senator hurried through the rest of her shower.

After her shower, she ran on autopilot, toweling off, drying her short brown hair and then she stopped. She couldn't find her makeup kit. While the bathroom was large, there weren't many places her kit could've gone and, with a quick look, she couldn't find it anywhere. The young woman stamped her foot, pouting. How in the world can I go out without makeup?

Another line of blood fell from Senator O'Neal's nose, tickling slightly as it trailed down to her lips. She absently wiped at it with the back of her hand.

"Senator Bowman," the young woman said in near sing-song. "Bow. Man. Sen. A. Tor." She leaned forward to examine her face. A few small wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and mouth made her frown. She pushed her thin lips out, plucking at them with her fingers. She'd never noticed how severe her lips made her look. "Senator Bowman and the Ethics Committee," she sang, to the tune of 'Baby Beluga'. "Spend so hard and... and...take money." The young woman giggled at her own joke while she touched various parts of her face.

With a heavy sigh, Senator O'Neal opened the bathroom door to step out into the main hotel room. It was warmer now as she walked around the room. The only things left behind were her purse, her packed suitcase and a dark outfit laid out on the bed. She pursed her lips at it. A long, dark skirt with a white button-down shirt and gray jacket. Sensible black pumps faced way from the foot of the bed.

"Boring," she said to the empty room. Stepping over to her suitcase, the young woman stared at it, contemplating whether she should find other, brighter clothes to wear. She frowned. Her clothes were tightly packed and the thought of re-packing the suitcase seemed far too difficult. Instead, she grabbed a pair of black panties and simple white bra from the suitcase's large zippered pocket.

Humming a mindless tune, the young woman stepped into her panties and pulled up, working her wider hips back and forth. The silky material slid past her smooth, larger thighs, pulling tightly between her legs. Senator O'Neal hooked her fingers under the edge of her panties to spread them out, covering the exposed, rounded cheeks of her ass. She twisted her hips left and right, admiring how the fabric clung to her larger frame. It seemed... right somehow.

The bra wouldn't fit. The young woman struggled with it, pulling and twisting and grunting until finally giving up. She tentatively held the bra against her breasts and looked at herself in the mirror. The wireframe of the small bra centered and covered her enlarged areola and nipples and some of the surrounding skin but that was all. Her heavier, rounded breasts made the bra look like something a stripper would wear to barely cover her nipples while still showing everything off.

"What the hell?" Senator O'Neal whispered. She dropped her bra and then cupped her breasts, feeling their weight. Still looking in the mirror, she suddenly realized how different she looked. Her midsection gently curved away into hips that, turning to the side, flared into an ass that belonged on a larger woman. A larger woman that spent her days on the stair climber at the gym. Her thighs and lower legs matched her hips and ass, subtly thicker. ”Oh god, what the he-"

Senator O'Neal cried out, falling to her knees. Blood dripped to the carpet, falling freely from her nose. She trembled, leaning heavily on her hands. Sweat broke out along her hairline and a wave of nausea rippled from the top of her head to her stomach. The young woman swallowed twice, fighting back the sudden, hard urge to vomit. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she closed her eyes. Her thin lips filled out against her hand. Skin swelled slowly as the skin stretched into full, pouty lips. Senator O'Neal shuddered and then stood on shaky legs.

"Eww," she said, staring at the blood on the back of her hand. The young woman walked to the bathroom and her hips swayed in hypnotic motions as if she'd been born to them. She cleaned herself off quickly and returned to her clothes. The young woman quickly picked up her skirt to struggle into it.

A quiet knock came from the front door. "Five minutes, ma'am," Paul said.

"Oooookaaaay," Senator O'Neal sang out. The fabric of her skirt strained slightly against her hips and she found she couldn't pull the zipper the entire way. She pulled as far as she could and then left it. Her shirt was easier. Senator O'Neal had no interest in wearing tight clothing in order to give the media any more ammunition or to flaunt her sexuality. And, so, she was able to button the shirt without trouble. Her new fat nipples tented the fabric and she bit her full lips at the feeling of the shirt rasping against her body. Gaps showed through the shirt around the buttons and did nothing to hide her larger chest.

Finally, Senator O'Neal pulled her dark jacket on. She twirled and then giggled. Looking at herself in the mirror, she struck a pose, fingers pointed out into the shape of a pistol. "Samantha O'Neal! FBI!" She told her reflection. Her breasts swayed alarmingly as she turned.

Biting back her giggles, the young woman zipped up her suitcase and grabbed her purse.

"Time for serious business," she said, walking to the door with her wheeled suitcase.

A small pool of blood, flecked with pink surrounded her old, small bra as she closed the hotel door behind her.

-----

Robert woke and groaned. His head spun and the light through his windows stabbed daggers into his eyes. His tongue and the rest of his head felt as if they'd been wrapped in thick bandages. He stared at his bathroom through watery eyes while trying to mentally will the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet onto his nightstand.

Although the day wasn't as hot as it promised to be later, he'd somehow sweated through his clothes. With a sigh and his eyes closed against the impending crushing headache, the man rolled and sat up. Sharp pains lanced through his templates and he ground his teeth against the feeling. His first thought was to eat the entire bottle of aspirin while his second was to shower. The damp clothes clung to him and he felt particularly sensitive to the way they touched his skin. His nipples were sore, as if he'd gone for a jog and his sweat-soaked running shirt had rubbed his nipples raw.

The ache in his head migrated to his jaw and he stood, ignoring the pain. Robert clicked on the TV as he made his way to his bathroom, staring at the world through half-closed eyes. He quickly shook a handful of pills into one hand and then bent down to take a mouthful of water from the bathroom sink. Titling his head back, he dropped the pills into his mouth and swallowed. Leaning forward on the counter, he waited for the pain to subside, totally oblivious that he'd swallowed six large pills and a mouthful of water without choking.

Slowly, the pain retreated from his jaws and he shivered. In a trance, the young man stripped out of his clothes, dropping them to the bathroom floor. His shirt fell away and then he struggled out of his undershirt before letting that drop as well. His belt seemed to be missing so he undid his pants and stood in his socks and underwear.

It wasn't his underwear. Somehow, in the half-darkness of the night before, he'd grabbed the lady's (what was her name? he asked himself) panties and put them on. Worse, he hadn't even noticed when he'd done it even though they fit him oddly. His testicles overflowed and his cock, somehow still hard from morning wood, was clearly exposed.

"Jesus, Robert," he said. His voice was gravely, as if he hadn't spoken in years. "Maybe it's time to lay off the drink for a while." He reached for the panties and then stopped. The dark red of the fabric seemed to absorb the bathroom's lights. He was surprised at how soft they were, as if they were barely there. A dot of pre-cum shined at the tip of his cock.

Robert gently stepped out of the panties, shivering as they slid against his hairy legs. His cock throbbed in response to the sensations and the ache from his chest faded from pain to small spikes of pleasure. Holding the panties in his right hand, he placed them against his cock, sliding the small red underwear against his length, over and over. Robert moaned, leaning against the cold tile of his bathroom sink. With his eyes closed, the young man didn't notice as his nipples hardened. No longer tiny but still smaller than his pinky finger, they throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Nerves lit up from his nipples straight to his belly and he gasped.

His orgasm was sudden and hard and made him cry out. Thick white cum spurted out, covering the opposite wall and floor as his cock pulsed twice and then a third time. Robert collapsed to his toilet's lid, panting. His cock ached, still hard but overly sensitive to touch. The smell of his cum filled the bathroom and he breathed in the scent deeply. Robert's lips parted and his tongue darted out to wet them. On an impulse, he brought the panties to his face and breathed in its scent. Some of his cum had caught onto them and became smudged above his lips. The woman's scent was gone; replaced by his own and the smell of his sex was overpowering.

With a sigh, Robert pulled the panties away and his tongue darted out again, greedily licking away the thick, creamy cum above his lips. The taste was vaguely salty with a strange bit of sweetness to it and he barely noticed as his tongue ran along his teeth and against the roof of his mouth. His cock throbbed painfully in response.

In the other room, the television played to a quiet room.

"In five minutes we'll be covering the news conference, live as Senator O'Neal begins her briefing on the hearing. We hope..."

[blackshirtboy]

This story is turning out really nicely, can't wait to read more!

[LycanDope]

Originally Posted by blackshirtboy

This story is turning out really nicely, can't wait to read more!

High praise from you, sir! Since I definitely like your art and style

[LycanDope]

Chapter 3
-------------------------------------------
Senator O'Neal stepped lightly into the hallway, her luggage bumping along behind her. Paul stood to the side of the door. His hands were loose against his sides and his eyes roamed ceaselessly along the hallway. The young woman looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm ready!" she chirped and then turned to her right as Paul turned the opposite direction.

"Senator, the elevators are this way," he told her.

"I knew that," she answered. A pretty red blush crept up the senator's cheeks. Her smile deepened and the faint hints of dimples appeared. Turning, she walked toward her aide and continued down the hallway while he followed behind her. The young woman's hips swayed in time to her steps as her firm, larger ass worked beneath the skirt.

Doors clicked open along the well-lit corridor. People and families in randomly filed out around her as she made her way to the elevator. Several men glanced at her as she passed, their eyes flicking down to her chest and ass. Catching one glance, she added a small twist to her step, smiling mischievously when the man's eyes widened.

Finally, the senator stopped in front of the elevator. A young blond woman in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt waited with them, casting occasional glances back at the senator while the elevator made its way up.

"Oh, hey!" the young lady said, turning to face Senator O'Neal. Recognition dawned on her face. "You're that one senator. They're talking about you on the news this morning. I really hope-" The lady had stepped up to the senator, her hand reaching for the senator. Paul's arm shot out, blocking the other woman. He gripped the lady's hand and twisted, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Paul!" Senator O'Neal exclaimed. "You let her go right this instant!"

The man released the young lady's hand and stepped back. "I'm sorry, miss. Training," he told her. "There've been some attempts against Senator O'Neal."

"Oh, there hasn't, Paul. Don't lie to her. I'm sorry, are you okay?" Senator O'Neal reached out to help the other woman stand. The blond lady grimaced, massaging her right hand while staring angrily at Paul.

"I'm fine. That hurt, creep," she told the large man. Paul grunted in non-reply. "I just wanted to say good luck. And I think it's rad that you're... you know."

Senator O'Neal cocked her head. "Know what?"

"You know. Gay," the young lady said. She glared up at Paul, daring him to say or do something.

"Oh. Oh!" Senator O'Neal said. "No. I mean, yes? I like both but-"

"Senator," Paul warned. "I really don't think this is an appropriate conversation to have right now."

Senator O'Neal's eyes flicked over to Paul and then back to the young woman. In a loud stage whisper, she continued her conversation with the young woman. "He doesn't think anything is appropriate. I don't think I've ever even seen him smile before." She giggled at herself while the other woman smiled in mild confusion.

The elevator dinged and Paul gently pulled Senator O'Neal into the small car with him. He stared at the blond lady as he pressed the 'door close' button and the young woman made no attempt to enter.

When the elevator door opened to the lobby, Senator O'Neal's eyes lit up. Even as early as it was, the large open area was bustling with activity. The dull roar of conversations were swallowed by the susurrations of the artificial waterfall in the center of the building.

"Paul," the senator whispered urgently. "Paul. Do you think they have goldfish in the water? The big pretty ones? Paul." Tugging at his arm, she tried to pull the man towards the small raised pond surrounding the bottom of the waterfall. "Paul, this is super important. Do you have any quarters?"

"Senator," Paul said. His large hand closed around hers, gently. "The car is-" The man finally looked at his boss. His lips pursed as his eyebrows knit together. He looked from her face to her hips and then back up. "Did you... did you do something different with your clothes today?"

The senator pouted up at Paul. "Well, I'm not wearing a bra. Paul. Quarters. Please? Pretty please? For the fountain? Oh no. You don't think the fish eat the money, do you?"

"Senator, I'm sorry. Did you just say you aren't wearing a bra?"

With a slight flounce and an exasperated sigh, Senator O'Neal opened her gray jacket. The thin fabric of her white shirt did nothing to hide the way her large nipples pressed against the shirt.

"Oh my-" Paul reached for her jacket as he glanced around the room. He held the jacket closed and then struggled with the top button. "Senator," he hissed, his eyes roaming the room. "You have to... why is this damn jacket not buttoning closed?"

Warm, delicate fingers wrapped around Paul's wrists. "Paul," Senator O'Neal purred. Her jacket fell open again. Her nipples had grown erect under Paul's attention. She guided the large man's hand towards one of her nipples and the man hissed, snatching his hands away. She looked up at him and her plump lips were pouting. "We could go back to my room, Paul. The bed is really nice. Or the floor. Or anywhere, really."

Paul swallowed and looked away. "Senator," he said. Swallowing, he continued. "I think we should call off the hearing. Something's not right. You're not acting right. You're- stop that!" The large man slapped Senator O'Neal's hands away from his chest.

Senator O'Neal smiled lazily up at Paul. Her eyes were half-closed and she reached for her jacket to shrug it off. The small ball of warmth deep within her belly was expanding throughout her core. She licked her lips and arched her back. The young woman's shirt strained against the movement. Paul glanced down and then immediately back up.

"The... the hearing... Senator, the hearing," he said, his voice rasping.

Hearing. Hearing. Hearing. The word echoed through her brain until something caught hold of it. Senator O'Neal blinked several times. "Oh my god, Paul. The hearing. Where's the car? We're going to be late." The young woman turned into a circle until she found the exit. Her heavy breasts bounced as she stalked to the doors.

A small bead of sweat rolled down Paul's temple. Now that he'd noticed her, he couldn't not notice the way she was walking. The way her hips moved. A small, primitive part of his brain wanted to throw her over his shoulder... or over the nearest chair. He cursed his erection and followed after her.

The ride was quiet as Paul collected his thoughts. He watched Senator O'Neal's reflection in the tinted windows. Her mouth was set in a determined line, only partially spoiled by her full lips. The man fought down imagery of her wrapping those lips around his cock. He forced himself to look away from her. What in the world is wrong with me, he wondered. I've never been this horny in my life and she's my goddamned boss! When the hell did she start looking like that? How did she hide that figure? Jesus H. Christ.

Glancing back at the senator, he caught her breathing on the window and drawing in the moisture with her finger. She was doodling little hearts on the glass. Her determined expression had melted away into something resembling childlike joy. He swallowed as his eyes strayed down to her shirt. He could clearly see the side of her left breast through the gaps around the buttons. They looked firm and smooth and- Jesus! He cursed at himself, mentally.

The car pulled into a small parking garage, tires squeaking on smooth pavement as it turned around and around into the designated area. Paul was thankful they wouldn't have to deal with any crowds outside. He hated working crowds. The man's hand reached for a pistol that wasn't there. An old nervous habit.

"We're here, senator," he told her.

"Yay!" Senator O'Neal exclaimed. The young woman quickly unbuckled herself and exited the car.

The two made their way to the private elevator. Paul kept his eyes away from his boss but he caught himself breathing deeply in the small car. She smelled like... nothing. No perfume or heavy scents or anything. But something registered to his nose. Some subtle scent that made him hungry. Hungry for her.

"I brought your note cards," he told her, handing her the cards. "Just in case. I know you've been working on this for a while but it helps sometimes to have them nearby."

"Thanks, Paul!" Senator O'Neal beamed.

Fuck, Paul thought.

Sitting for makeup was a nightmare.

"I look gross!" Senator O'Neal cried. Her fingers lightly touched the thick makeup covering her face. "I don't even look real."

The woman sitting next to the senator glanced up at Paul.

"She... she doesn't normally go for makeup before one of these. And she's had a weird morning," he explained.

"Ma'am," the lady said. "The makeup has to be like this for the lights. I've been doing this for years. Trust me, you'll look just fine on TV."

"Oh! I'm going to be on TV?" the senator's eyes widened and she turned around. "Paul, really? Am I really going to be on TV?"

"Yes?" Paul answered, his voice making it sound like a question.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh," Senator O'Neal gushed. She kicked her feet, squealing in happiness. "Should I maybe..." The senator reached down to the top button of her underneath the large collar the makeup artist had put around her shoulders.

"No!" Both Paul and the other woman said at the same time.

"Oh, okay." The senator looked at the woman next to her. "Are you really sure I'll look okay? I look like a corpse."

"I promise, ma'am."

"Yay! Thank you!" Senator O'Neal leaned over to give the woman a hug.

Paul checked his watch. "It's time, senator."

"Ooooookaaaay," the senator sang out. She stood and removed the collar before turning for the door.

"Hey," the makeup artist said, looking after the senator before turning to Paul. "Good luck?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, thanks."

Senator O'Neal nearly skipped along the small hall that lead to the conference area. Muted laughter and conversations came from the double doors in front of them and, as Paul opened the doors, the sound assaulted both of them. Rows of chairs were filled with reporters. Some with notepads and audio recording devices and some with small cameras. A large stage faced the reporters and an array of studio cameras bearing various major cable companies pointed at the table in the center of the stage. Bright lights loomed behind the cameras, casting a harsh white light on the stage. The table was lined with microphones. Everyone stopped and turned to look at the newcomers.

Paul bumped into Senator O'Neal. She had frozen, eyes wide at the sudden huge amount of attention. Paul felt her trying to back into him but his arm held her in place.

"Paul," she whispered, her voice fierce and low. "There's so many people. Oh my gosh, Paul. There's too many people. I can't do this. I can't."

"Senator," Paul answered. His voice was low and his lips barely moved. "You called for this hearing. You've done a ton of these before. You'll be fine. Just walk with me to the stage. Focus on the cameras when you get there and you'll be fine." He shifted himself to avoid touching her soft, large ass with his cock as she pressed back against him. As gentle as possible, he guided her towards the stage.

Various reporters called out to her - some in greeting and some with questions. Senator O'Neal ignored all of them, her face a stone mask of terror as she walked to the stage. Upon reaching the small table, Paul and Senator O'Neal sat carefully. The young woman trembled and Paul reached out, squeezing her hand under the table.

"Two minutes!" An old man called out from the far end of the stage. He wore a large headset connected to a battery pack on his belt.

"Paul," Senator O'Neal whispered, her eyes locked on the cameras. "I have to pee. I have to pee so bad. Like, now."

"We can't, Senator," he told her. "This is going to be live. We can't delay."

"But, Paul," the young woman whined. "I... I have to throw up. I'm going to throw up everywhere. All over the table. What am I supposed to do?"

Paul squeezed the senator's hand again. "You'll be fine. You've done this before. Just take out your note cards, glance over them and, if you have to, read directly from them. They won't like it but it doesn't matter."

"Oh, okay. I'll-"

"Ten seconds!" The old man yelled.

"No," Senator O'Neal said firmly. "I have to pee. I can't hold it. I can't. I have-"

"Two. One." The old man gestured at the table, giving two thumbs up.

Senator O'Neal froze. Red lights glared on the cameras in front of her and she could hear the crowd of reports moving and coughing and whispering.

"Cards," Paul said, his lips not moving an inch.

The senator's eyes were as large as teacups and her chest was heaving as she nearly hyperventilated. She looked over at Paul and then down at her cards. Licking her lips, she picked up the cards and stared at them.

"S... s..." Senator O'Neal stuttered. "Senator Bad Man is-" The young woman looked up as a roar of laughter echoed around the room. She thought of what she just said and blushed. Tears shined wetly in her eyes. Looking down at her hands, she whispered to her side. "Paul, they're laughing at me. I can't do this."

"You can. Just start over and ignore them," Paul said. He gently squeezed her leg and she sighed next to him.

"S... senator Bowman is con... conclusively linked to various organ...organizations that have steadily provided donations to accounts listed both under his own name and under companies linked to him. The-" Senator O'Neal turned to Paul. A thin line of blood traced down her nose. A second line joined the first.

"Paul," she said, her voice well above a whisper. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by simple confusion. "Paul, look right here. It says 'ass.' Is it okay to say 'ass' on TV?"

The stunned silence was palpable around them. Paul trembled slightly, his hand reaching for a phantom gun. His eyes automatically followed where she was pointing. The word 'assumption' was just above her finger.

As he started to answer her, her eyes fluttered in her head. A small blob of pink and red blood oozed from her nose. The young woman moaned as her jacket opened wide, exposing her chest to the cameras. Or, rather, her chest was expanding and it pushed the jacket aside. Paul could clearly see the outline of Senator O'Neal's breasts as the shirt pulled tight against their growth. Buttons strained valiantly. From his angle, he could see as the breasts flattened together, the soft skin pushing through the gaps in the shirt.

A single button popped in the middle of her shirt. A second followed and then a third and, finally, the top fourth button. Senator O'Neal's breasts spilled out of her shirt and she gasped, arching her back, moaning loudly in ecstasy. Her already large breasts continued to grow into epic proportions. Paul sprang to his feet, blocking her from the cameras. In a single motion, he grabbed her and picked her up. She was light in his arms and her breasts pressed softly against his chest

Ignoring the loud cries and shouts, he ran from the room. Senator O'Neal writhed against Paul as he moved. She gasped in his ear and her hands roamed his body, groping and squeezing him. He could feel her teeth against his ear as he reached the hallway. He set her down and she immediately leaned back against the wall. Her smile was nearly predatory as she hefted her gigantic breasts. Her tongue lapped at the fat nipple of her right breast.

"Paul," she moaned. "We're all alone and I feel so hot." Her hands worked at her skirt and the only reason it stayed on was because her expanded hips made it difficult for her to easily take it off.

Paul shuddered and grabbed her wrists, pulling her along towards the door. As he rounded the corner, he heard a door slam open. Voices yelled for the senator as he ran. Paul said a silent prayer of relief as the door to the garage appeared before him. He reached for the handle but the door opened hard, wrenching his arm.

Three men stepped through the door. Paul immediately recognized Senator Bowman and he marked the other two as hired muscle. One of them grabbed him as he reached for Senator O'Neal. The second thug slammed his fist into Paul's stomach and only the first man's grip kept him on his feet.

"Far beyond my expectations," Senator Bowman said. His eyes roamed Senator O'Neal's body and she smiled at him, her hands running along her sides and up to her breasts. She looked unreal - a porn star's dream. Her breasts flared out alongside a slim upper body and torso. As gigantic as they were, not a single stretch mark was visible. Her large, erect nipples were perfectly positioned and stood at full, pink attention. Her flat stomach curved out over generous hips that vanished beneath her skirt. She leaned back against the wall, legs spread as she presented herself. Amidst the perfection, blood covered the area between her lips and nose.

Senator O'Neal stalked to Senator Bowman. She reached for his crotch and squeezed while groaning deep in her throat. "How about you?" she asked. "Will you help me out? I just feel so incredibly hot and I-" Senator Bowman pressed his lips against the woman and kissed her deeply. Senator O'Neal's arms reached around to grip his head and back, wrapping herself tightly against him.

"Get your goddamned hands-!" Paul yelled. He was cut short as thug #2 slammed his fist into Paul's face. Paul's vision blurred and he tasted blood from cuts in his mouth.

"Leave him. We'd better get going before the reporters catch up." Senator Bowman pulled away from Senator O'Neal and all four left while Paul watched, helplessly. He heard a car's engine start just as a flock of reporters caught up to him.

-----

Robert startled awake when his phone buzzed loudly on the night stand near his bed. He lay naked and sprawled above his covers. Smacking his lips, he grabbed his phone to stare at it. The time on the phone told him that he'd slept into late afternoon.

The leopard has changed its spots. The message read.

"Who comes up with this lame ass Secret Squrrel bullshit?" he asked the room. Still, he knew that meant the job was finished and that meant he was free until the next one. Putting the phone away, Robert rolled to his stomach and closed his eyes again. He could feel little aches in his joints and muscles and, now that he was awake, it was enough to keep him awake.

With a sigh, Robert sat up. And again reached for his phone. After a quick look through his contact list, he made a call.

"Hi," he said to the woman that answered. "Yeah, I'd like to make an appointment today. How free- Oh, great. Yup, I'll be right over. My regular. Sandy? Yeah, perfect. Thanks!"

Robert stood and stretching, relishing the way his tendons felt as he reached and pulled. The young man dug through his closet to find some casual clothes for the evening. He tossed a pair of dark brown cargo pants and a thick black shirt onto his bed with ankle socks. Finally, a pair of black boxer-briefs joined the pile.

Stepping over to his bed, he paused as his feet brushed something soft. Robert looked down to find the lady's red panties crumbled on the ground. He could see the stains from his cum on the front of the panties and, almost immediately, his cock began throbbing. Robert bit his lip as his cock lifted, growing fully hard. His heart beat quickly in the chest and his penis bobbed in time. Looking over at his pile of clothes, he considered for a moment and then bent down to the panties. His cum had dried, leaving a few stiff spots on the material but it was still soft in his hands. He brought the panties over to his bed and sat with them.

Looking around and blushing as he realized that he was home and there was nobody to see, Robert ran the panties along his legs. Where his own underwear was slightly rough on his skin, the panties were silky smooth. He couldn't tell whether he was feeling overly sensitive or whether the material simply felt that good against his body but, either way, he shivered in response.

With another quick look around the empty apartment, Robert slid the panties slowly up over his legs. He gasped in pleasure, squirming and nearly moaning until he had to stand to pull the panties around his ass. His manhood pressed hard against the front of the panties. The material was so smooth and warm that it almost felt like he was inside a woman's wet pussy. He looked down at himself and, then, before he could change his mind, he reached for his pants. He'd expected the rough cargo pants to take away from the sensations provided by the panties but, instead, it highlighted their feel.

Robert found that as he moved, the panties slid against him and that feeling made him even more turned on. Quickly pulling on his shirt and socks, grabbed his keys, wallet and cellphone and walked to the door.

Living downtown afforded several benefits - one of which was that everything important was in walking distance. Robert walked the sidewalk, admiring the beautiful morning. His eyes strayed to several women that crossed his path. He watched them walk but, rather than enjoying the shape of their ass, he found himself wondering what kind of panties they were wearing. What kind and what fabric and whether they felt as good as his did. Several times he had to step oddly to subtly work out an odd pinch from the underwear and he began to grow jealous of the other women. Jealous of the way their panties fit them. How natural it would be for them.

Finally, Robert arrived at his massage parlor. The smell of fresh baked bread from the nearby café made his stomach rumble but he ignored it.

"Welcome, Mr. Williams," the well-dressed receptionist told him as he entered. "Sandy is setting up in room three and should be ready momentarily. Please have a seat. May I bring you some coffee?"

"No, thank you," Robert answered. He sat on a small black leather couch facing the lobby. Men and women wearing the company's signature black pants and black t-shirts walked around, tidying up their outside areas. Robert watched them work. Again and again he found his attention being drawn to a tall man in the corner of the room. He had a small beard and strong arms but Robert's eyes were drawn to the man's crotch. Specifically, at the bulge in the man's crotch. Jesus. He's not even hard, Robert thought. Just. Bulging. Goddamned lucky asshole. I mean, I'm not small but what I wouldn't give to have that. Women must fall all over themselves trying to get to him. Probably fucks like a stallion. Slamming into women, pounding them. Cumming deep inside of them. Filling them with it until it's oozing out them. Thick and creamy and-

Robert's finger tweaked at his nipple and his body jumped in response. He felt pressure at the front of his skull while his mind wandered. The imagery of the man cumming. The imagined women were gone and all that was left was the man and his impressively erect cock. Thick gouts of cum spurted over and over. Robert licked his lips, moaning and squirming in the chair. The panties slid with him, reminding him that he wore them. He could almost smell the man's cum. It'd be sweet, like his, he decided. And salty. And it'd coat his throat and tongue as he swallowed it, pumping him until he was drained.

Robert stood and walked over to the receptionist. He was sweating slightly along his hairline and his cock ached to the point of being painful.

"Excuse me," Robert gasped. "That... that man in the corner. Is he available for a massage?"

"Jonathon?" the receptionist asked. "Yes, for the next two hours. Shall I change your appointment?"

"Y... yes. Thank you." Robert watched the young man answer the phone in his private room.

"He's ready for you now, Mr. Williams," the receptionist said.

Without another word, Robert threaded his way through the room, eyes locked on the small room in the corner. Soothing music played in the dim lighting. Jonathon was laying out a sheet and a pile of towels as Robert entered.

"Hi, I'm Jonathon," he said. "I've set your towels and sheet out so just get comfortable and I'll be back in a couple minutes." Robert forced himself not to watch as the man left.

When the door clicked shut, Robert stripped. He carefully folded his pants, shirt and socks, laying them in the corner. He stood, naked except for his panties. Her panties, he corrected himself. It was thrilling. A little secret just for himself. Robert lay down on his stomach on the massage table. He pulled the thick sheet up over his waist and waited.

A light knock at the door was followed by Jonathon quietly entering. He brought a basket full of various lotions that he set on the nearby table.

"So, what am I working on today?" Jonathon asked.

"Everything," Robert answered. "Neck, shoulders, back, legs, all of it."

"Hah," the man laughed. "All right then. I'll get started."

The volume of the music increased slightly and Robert closed his eyes as he rested his hands on the small bars under the headrest. Jonathon stood in front of Robert as he worked on Robert's shoulders. Robert lifted his head slightly and was rewarded with a close-up of the man's crotch. Involuntarily drawing in a deep breathe, he was slightly disappointed when he couldn't smell his scent. Jesus, it is huge, Robert thought. All coiled up in there. Just waiting to be let out. I wonder if he's circumcised? God, all he'd have to do is unzip right now. Just unzip and roll it out and press it into my mouth. It's just right there and I'm at the right height to do it. I'd suck him off so good until he burst in my mouth. Oh god. All that cum. All of it. Swallowing it all down.

Robert lay his head back down and closed his eyes. His cock pressed hard against the massage table and he caught himself working his hips in small motions as, in his mind, he grinded himself on Jonathon's thick cock. A hot red flush crept up Robert' throat and cheeks and he forced himself to stop. He chastised himself until the man's hands went down to his shoulders. The motion of Jonathon's hands rubbing deep into his back made Robert's nipples scratch against the sheet beneath him. Nerves lit up from his nipples straight down to his balls and he had to bite back a moan. His nipples hardened, pressing back into his chest.

Small breasts formed on his sculpted chest. The skin softened and swelled slightly, pushing his nipples and small areola down slightly. The growing breasts flattened as they developed, the sensation lost beneath the grinding caused by Jonathon's massage. The brown of his nipples leeched away unseen, replaced by a soft, gentle pink color. Robert lost himself in his day dream as Jonathon worked his way down his body. Only when the man worked on the muscles of Robert's ass did he have to force himself to lie still. The urge to whimper and beg and plead was incredibly strong.

As the heel of Jonathon's hands worked at the large muscles of his ass, he thought of the man behind him, spreading his ass cheeks, probing him with his gigantic cock. Fingertips digging into his ass as he teased and toyed with him. Dream-Robert begged him to hurry.

The massage was over faster than he realized. Robert felt drugged and slow as Jonathon picked up his various lotions.

"Take your time getting dressed, sir. Just come on out when you're done. No hurry at all," Jonathon told him.

Robert nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He could feel his own pre-cum soaked into the sheet beneath him. Worse, he could smell it and his mouth watered. When the door closed and he was alone, Robert quickly sat up, stepping away from the table.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He asked. His cock felt like it was going to burst and he very nearly masturbated right there in the massage room. Instead, he turned away and forced himself to get dressed. I'm not a fucking cross dresser. I don't like men, he reassured himself. I just... what the hell. What the hell, Robert? What're you doing? You need to get out of here and get back to your apartment and get your head straight.

Pulling on his pants, his thumb brushed the head of his cock, coating it in pre-cum. Robert licked at his thumb before buttoning his pants. This nonsense will pass, he told himself, completely unaware of what he'd just done.

Robert quickly made his way out, paying as he left. The sun was huge and fat and red on the horizon. Robert turned and stuffed his hands into his pocket, shoulders hunched protectively. Halfway to his apartment, his stopped, catching himself in the reflection of a storefront's window. Something seemed different about his face but, he couldn't place it. Like catching something at the very corner of his eyes, he noticed little things were off but that was all. And then he looked up at one of the mannequins in the store window.

The featureless mannequin in the store front wore a skimpy outfit. The panties were nearly as sheer as the top and both were black and red. The mannequin's breasts were cupped in a bra that left the top half exposed. Robert traced the figure with his eyes. The breasts and hips and stomach. Everything so smooth and rounded in all the right places. Everything fit so well. It wasn't fair, a part of him said. The other two mannequins were dressed in similar outfits. Robert twitched. I just... I'll go in and look, that's all, he told himself. Just to look and touch. I bet their outfits are really soft.

Robert was inside the store before he realized he'd crossed the threshold. A young, smiling woman greeted him.

"Hi! Welcome to Donna's on 6th," she said. She was pretty in an unspoiled way. Young and petite with small breasts. He looked her completely up and down, noting - enviously - her figure and her outfit. "Can I help you find anything?"

"I'm just looking, thanks," Robert said. Unreasonable anger flooded him but he forced himself to smile back. She looked good in her clothes. Natural. "For my girlfriend."

The women frowned slightly and then nodded. "Oh, sure. Just look around and if you need help with anything, let me know!"

Fake bitch, Robert thought.

Browsing slowly, avoiding any other women that walked along the store, Robert made his way to the lingerie section. He couldn't stop touching everything. Feeling the contrasts in different materials. Stretching them. Picturing them on him. Glancing surreptitiously, Robert took a few of the larger panties. Different styles and different fabrics. On another rack, he found a pink top like the one in the front window. It joined the small pile on his arm. Closer to the dressing room he looked through shelves and racks until he found a black mini-skirt and pink cashmere top.

With another glance, Robert waited until the sales clerk's attention was elsewhere. And, then, he stepped into a changing room and closed the door. Thankfully, the room was large and the door closed completely with no gaps underneath. Robert laid the items down to kick off his shoes and undo his pants. He moaned as he slid the panties down his legs. Unnoticed by him, some leg hair came away when the underwear rubbed against his leg, leaving smooth, clear spots of skin behind.

Robert dug through the things he picked out until he settled on one in particular. It was made of some clear fabric with white lace in an intricate pattern. It was shorter than the red pair he'd been wearing but also wider at the hips. The sides curved up to the waistband in order to show off the thighs.

Naked from the waist down, Robert watched carefully as he stepped into the panties. More leg hair came away and, as he worked his hips, bones shifted slightly in his lower back. Fatty tissue grew to cover the rock hard muscles of his ass and his butt bubbled out slightly as he worked the small panties up over them. He turned to watch as the bottom of the panties pulled tight between his ass cheeks, disappearing between his now slightly rounded ass. Robert swiveled his hips left and right and then turned to face himself.

The short panties barely covered his cock. He reached down to touch the material, tracing his fingers along the threading. However, the pressure in his balls was finally too much. Robert leaned forward, pushing his ass back at an imaginary partner. One hand on the wall next to the mirror, he bit his lips and stroked himself. In his mind, Jonathon was in front of him and he had his hand on the man's thick cock. The other man ran his fingers through Roberts hair as Robert pumped his manhood, kissing at the tip to-

Again, Robert's orgasm surprised him. He cried out, voice cracking slightly. Covering his mouth, he moaned as his cock swelled over and over, covering the mirror in his cum. Robert's legs shook from the force of the orgasm and he collapsed to his knees. Still his legs quivered uncontrollably until a final, weak spurt of cum dribbled to the ground.

The smell of his own cum was maddening. Robert stared at it, inches from his face now that he was on his knees.

On his knees like a good little woman. Where I should be, a part of him said. Where I was in my mind with Jonathon. Looking up at him as he smiled down at me. Stroking him until he came in my mouth. Oh god. The cum.

Robert opened his eyes, staring at the mirror. His heart pounded in his chest and his heart raced. Slowly, he leaned forward. Lips parted and his tongue pressed forward until the tip touched a still-warm glob of his cum. Robert trembled, a piece of him screaming in rage while another piece, a new piece urged him on.

Rather than the quick lick that he'd planned, Robert pressed his tongue flat and lapped his own cum off of the mirror. The taste of it sparked explosions in his brain. He'd tried cocaine before and other drugs but absolutely nothing compared. Nothing at all. He couldn't get enough. Again and again he licked at the door until every last bit of it was clean.

Robert's hands went to his chest, massaging the pre-teen breasts under his shirt, tweaking his nipples as his hips rocked. More bones shifted beneath his skin and his hips widened slightly. Under his attention, his nipples and areola grew. His new pink nipples begged for his attention and he obliged, reaching under his shirt to pinch and pull at them.

Another orgasm tore through his body. Robert's mouth opened at the shock of it. It was a kind of orgasm he'd never felt before - something deep within him that rippled through his body. Even now he felt the aftershocks of it and his hips jerked. Cum dribbled out of his half-hard cock.

Pushing himself up on shaky legs, Robert looked around the room. The carpet was stained with his cum and everything smelled like sex. Almost. Almost he got down on his knees to lick at the floor. He felt the pull. He felt the echo of that incredible taste and the things it did to him. Instead, he quickly changed into his clothes and grabbed the items he'd picked out.

Robert opened the door and cursed himself for not checking first. The clerk was only two racks away and she looked up as he stepped out. A look crossed her face before professionalism took over. However, she couldn't help but throw in a dig.

"Did you find everything you were looking for, sir?" she asked.

Shame, anger, jealousy, embarrassment and other emotions rolled through Robert. You're just a little flat chested bitch. Ugly cunt. I bet your boyfriend has to put a bag on your goddamned head to fuck you. And sucking cock with that mouth? I don't fucking think so. You probably couldn't even get the head past your lips. Useless little bitch.

"Yes. I'm ready to check out."

-----

Karyn's cellphone woke her at 6 pm. She'd stumbled home in the morning, pissed that her favorite pair of panties were gone. And, now, it took several minutes to realize that it was actually time to wake up. Work, she remembered. Time for my shift at the hospital.

She stretched and yawned and sat up in her bed. Her t-shirt, stolen from an old boyfriend, hugged her body. She always gave herself barely time to do anything more than shower and get dressed and today was no different. Normally she hated waking up for work but she found herself oddly refreshed. She smiled at the fading sunlight and hummed as she made her way to the bathroom.

With a few awkward twirls and impromptu dance steps, Karyn giggled as she looked at herself in the mirror.

"Best me-cation ever!" she told her reflection. "I feel like, a million times better. Holy crap."

Reaching for a roll of toilet paper, she pulled a couple squares of paper off and sniffed before blowing her nose. Tossing the toilet paper away, she grabbed her toothbrush.

"Seriously," she said again. "I think this is, so far, the best day I've ever had."

The toilet paper shifted slightly in the trash as blood and pink fleshy tissue weighed it down.

[blackshirtboy]

Can't believe I missed part 3 when you first posted it, it's really great and the parts with Robert especially are hot as hell. Nice job!

[LycanDope]

Chapter 04!
-----------------------
Karyn hummed to herself as she closed her apartment door. She wore a pair of old, white running shoes along with her bright pink scrubs. A light black jacket and small backpack completed her outfit. She walked down the hallway to the stairs, skipping steps gleefully until she reached the bottom. The sun lay low on the horizon, half-hidden behind the taller buildings downtown. Karyn raised her face to the sun with her eyes closed, smiling for no other reason than happiness at being outside.

The walk to the local bus stop was short and Karyn nearly danced the entire way. A few locals eyed her sideways when she passed and several men turned to stare at the small blond woman.

"I see," Karyn sang out. "I see how your eyes light up when I smiiiiiile! I see how your face blushes when I look your waaaaay!" She twirled when she reached the enclosed bus stop. The pop song had gotten stuck in her head before she left and she'd decided she might as well sing with it as it looped over and over in her mind.

An older man, perhaps in his early forties, watched Karyn approach. He was dressed roughly in old blue jeans, a slightly stained white t-shirt and an open black and red cotton shirt.

"Smiiiile," Karyn sang softly under her breath. "Blushing. Looking your way." A thin, cold line of blood tickled the small hairs above her lip as it ran from her nose. She wiped her face with the back of her hand reflexively. Beneath her outfit, the skin of her waist pushed out slightly. Bones popped in her hips, rearranging themselves as her slim profile swelled. Karyn swayed in time to the music in her head, unaware of the small changes happening deep within her body.

"You have a good voice," the man said. Karyn startled and then blushed. She hadn't realized someone else was at the bus stop with her.

"Th- thank you," Karyn said, eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry. I hope I wasn't being too loud."

"Eh," the man said, shrugging his shoulders. "Hardly. There's plenty of room on the bench if you want to sit down."

"Oh, I'm fine," Karyn replied. "My shoes are comfortable and I like standing. If I sit for too long I'll get sleepy. I have the late shift this month at the hospital. I hate the late shift. I'm more a morning person. I get way too sleepy at night so I try to stay on my feet. It hurts after a while but we have mats at some of the stations at work and those are really good for your feet. They're some kind of expensive cushion. A lot of the nurses use them but-" The young woman laughed uncomfortably. Why in the world am I talking so much? Come on, Karyn.

Karyn's nipples shifted within her bra. The dark brown skin twisted, tightening against the soft, sensible white bra. She shivered as her nipples hardened. A light ache settled in her breasts and it took a conscious effort for her not to massage either of them.

"Yeah," the man said. "I'm on my way home. Long day. I'd rather sit. Name's Harold, by the way."

"Karyn," the young woman said. She pressed her thumbs into her lower back, working her fingers in circles. Did I sleep wrong? She wondered. Muscles tore and moved as her hips widened. The skin of the woman's thighs tightened and then continued to grow out as they matched her widening frame.

A natural silence fell between the two.

Let's see, Karyn thought to herself. She ran through a short list of things she had planned for the evening. I'll need to check in on Mrs. Krauthmeyer and Mr. Campbell. Oh, and I bet Sherry didn't change out Mr. Perry's bandages so I'll do that first. And that stack of records to go through. Dr.- Dr....The young woman paused.

Another line of red with small pink bubbles dripped from Karyn's nose and she leaned against the cold metal pole at the corner of the bus stop. Her head swam and she was suddenly nauseous.

"Maybe- Maybe I will sit," Karyn said. Holding onto the metal bar for support, she shuffled over to the silver bench. She shivered as she lowered herself carefully onto the cold, silver surface.

Karyn's erect nipples slid against her bra as her breasts swelled. Soft white skin pressed over the top and bottom of her bra as her breasts grew. Her straps bit into her shoulder and back as they strained to contain her new size until, abruptly, her breasts stopped growing. Small fatty tissues formed beneath her body. Her mousey frame expanded in a subtle way. Old wrinkles and scars smoothed out, leaving perfect, unblemished skin. Where she'd been thin before she was now... softer.

The young woman worked her head in circles. Lacing her fingers together, she brought them up and over her head in a full stretch. Harold's eyes were naturally drawn to the woman's chest. Karyn's pink top was tight against her larger chest and the older man could see the swell of her breast.

"You, uhh," the man cleared his throat roughly. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah!" Karyn beamed, kicking her feet out as she brought her hands back down. She shifted on the seat as her ass filled out even further. Her once loose pink pants now cradled her larger ass. Karyn massaged her thicker thighs as she rocked side-to-side on the bench. Her fingernails, kept short for her work, lengthened.

"What do you do at the hospital?" Harold asked.

"The hospital?" Karyn replied, cocking her head to the side. "Oh! I help around. I do stuff. Umm. Ummmm. Cleaning. Filling things out." Karyn leaned over to Howard and her hand rested on the man's leg. Lowering her voice, she whispered. "Sometimes the people stink. Especially the old people. It's gross."

Harold stared at Karyn's hand, still on his thigh as she sat up straight. The older man swallowed. Karyn turned to look up the street, humming the song from earlier. Her lips swelled, curving slightly as they pushed out into a natural pout.

"Yeah? I, uhh, I bet." The man said. He looked at the young woman next to him. His heart beat fast and he felt his cock stirring in his jeans. He couldn't tell how old the girl was. When she'd first walked up, he'd thought she was about thirty years old but now he wondered if she was even twenty-one. "Well, I'm pretty old so I hope I don't smell too bad."

Karyn gripped the man's thigh and laughed, her voice tinkling in the night air. "You're not that old. I mean like old person old. Grandma and grandpa old. You're more like my dad and that's not so bad. I bet..." The young woman leaned in to the older man. He stiffened as he felt the warmth of her skin and her breath on his neck. He could almost feel her full lips brushing his skin. She smelled like morning flowers drying in the warm summer air. With another squeeze at his thigh, Karyn sat back. "No, silly, you don't smell bad. You just smell like work. Like my daddy used to smell when he'd come home at night."

"Well. Well, that's... that's good," Harold said. He licked his lips and glanced down, sure that his pants would be bulging from his erection. He couldn't decide whether he should say something about the woman's hand on his leg. He didn't know what to make of her. She didn't seem to be purposefully coming onto him but, rather, seemed like she'd just forgotten about her hand. He didn't want her to stop but he wasn't sure what she was doing or what she wanted, either.

"Yeah. My daddy worked on construction stuff," Karyn said. Her hand idly stroked the other man's leg. At times, she came close to brushing against the man's cock. "He always washed before he came home but he still smelled like oil and machines. I like the smell. You smell like that. I used to cuddle in his lap in my pajamas and he'd read me a bedtime story because he got home so late. He'd tickle me and use all these voices and we'd laugh."

A tiny blob of pink blood traced down to Karyn's lip. She wiped it away with her free hand and then leaned against Harold. Her hand continued to stroke at the man's leg. Occasionally, she'd drag her nails against her rough jeans. As she talked, her cheeks slowly puffed out, filling out her previously narrow face. Small dimples appeared at the corner of her cheeks.

"I loved my daddy," Karyn told the older man. "I miss him. I came all the way out here for school and then I got a job and I haven't seen him in forever. Everyone at my work is always so clean with soft hands. Everybody is too soft and they smell like soap all the time. I miss the smell of my daddy. His big rough hands holding me."

Karyn's hand reached out for Harold's hand and her fingers traced along his palm. The young woman's fingernails scratched against the other man's callouses. Dirt and grease marked his hands, despite the pumice soap he always used at the end of his shift. Harold's heart raced in his chest. He was transfixed by the woman lying against him. She was warm and soft and smelled like heaven. He wanted to snatch his dirty hand away to clean it or hide it from her but, instead, he watched her small white hand moving along his own larger hand.

"Everybody in the city is the same. All dressed up and fancy. No beards or dirt or anything. I don't know. I guess it's nice but I miss it. I- uhnn." Karyn arched her back and her hand clenched against Harold's hand.

The young woman's breasts bulged beneath her white bra. The bra whined in protest as the single clasp holding it in place broke. Karyn's shirt flattened against her expanding breasts and she moaned in response. Her hand again went to Harold's thigh, higher this time. The older man gasped. Karyn buried her face into Harold's neck, whimpering lightly as her chest grew out enough to lift her tight shift up and away from her body, exposing her soft belly, smooth belly.

Harold gripped the bench tightly. Karyn's hand was wrapped around his throbbing cock and her previously casual strokes were now smaller and more focused. Whimpers turned to moans. Karyn kissed Harold's neck. Her lips were incredibly soft. Without a word, the young woman let go of the older man's cock and took his hand, guiding it to the waistband of her pink scrubs.

"I-" Harold swallowed. "I-"

Karyn pushed the older man's hand down past the tight waistband. She pulled his wrist down until his fingers brushed her mound. Her panties had tightened as her hips, ass and thighs widened and the fabric was pulled tight between her pussy lips. He could feel the heat radiating from her before his fingers moved lower. Harold's fingers slid between Karyn's lips and the woman groaned lightly into his ear. Her breath was nearly as hot as her pussy. Harold's mind buzzed from need. He could feel how incredibly wet she was - how slick her pussy was. All it would take would be for him to push just a tiny bit and his finger would easily slip into her.

"I can't. I-" Harold pulled his hand out. The smell of sex filled the air. "It's not-"

Karyn whined and then pulled the older man's head toward her. Their lips met and the young woman's tongue slid into the older man's mouth. Harold automatically wrapped his arms around the other woman. A dull ache settled between his eyes. He had a hard time focusing on what he was doing. The woman was slowly filling his entire world.

With a twist of her wide, thick hips, Karyn straddled Harold's leg. She settled herself down onto him and her large ass spread, her hips jerking as his cock rubbed against her lips. She rocked her hips as they continued to kiss. The pink of her pants darkened as she soaked them in her excitement.

Karyn broke away from the kiss to lay her head on Harold's shoulder, gasping and moaning as she grinded against the man. She gripped the back of the bench while her thick ass rocked back and forth in a sensuously perfect rhythm.

"Can," Karyn asked, breathlessly, her voice small and quiet. "Can I call you Daddy?"

Harold gripped Karyn's ass. The pants were thin and he kneaded her while spreading her open. He had no idea if anyone was watching. No thought was spared for anything except the woman grinding against him.

"Please," Karyn gasped. "Please, Daddy?"

"Yes!" Harold moaned.

"Do you- do you like it, Daddy? Do you like how I feel?"

"God. God yes."

"Tell me, Daddy," Karyn moaned. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled, struggling to get the tight fabric up and over her huge breasts. With a grunt, she yanked and her breasts hung free in the chill night air. As if sensing their freedom, they expanded further. Hanging lower on her chest they now filled until they bulged, round and firm and massive.

A single drop of translucent liquid welled from the tip of Karyn's left breast. The young woman leaned forward and Harold was forced back. She bent again to the older man's ear.

"Daddy," she asked. "Am- am I a good girl?"

"Oh, fuck," Harold moaned. His cock ached deep in his pants. "Oh fuck. Yes. Yes."

"Tell me, please. Please, Daddy. Please tell me. Please. Now. Please, Daddy."

Liquid dripped from the tips of Karyn's breasts. The young woman's movements were becoming erratic and her breathing was hitched. She grunted and moaned and groaned, kissing Harold's neck while she moved.

"Ohhhhh," Harold moaned. "Oh, fuck. Oh. You're- you're a good girl."

Karyn hissed in pleasure as something released deep within her.

"You're my good girl," Harold finished. The older man grabbed Karyn's breast and, as he squeezed, a thin stream of liquid squirted from her nipple. His rough mouth took Karyn's thick, hard nipple and he suckled from her. Karyn froze in place and her eyes rolled up and back. She gripped the older man, hugging him close to her chest.

"Say. Say it again, Daddy."

Harold broke away and a line of milk spilled from Karyn's nipple to roll down her firm, heavy breast. "You're Daddy's good girl," he told her.

"Oh, Daddy. Can... can I kiss your penis? Is it okay?"

Instead of answering, Harold reached down between them to unzip his pants. Karyn stepped away eagerly. The crotch of the woman's pants were dark and wet and her eyes were filled with pure lust. She kneeled before the older man to unbutton his pants. Both frantically worked until Harold's cock sprang free. Karyn cried out in pure joy and immediately wrapped her small, white hand around the man's thickness. Her massive breasts lay heavily against Harold's knees.

"Is it okay, Daddy? Is it okay?"

"Yes. Yes, it's okay. Please," Harold answered. "Plea-" Karyn wrapped her full lips around the head of the man's cock. Milk dripped from both of Karyn's nipples as she pushed her head slowly down the man's cock. Her throat bulged as she relaxed it to take all of him. When her lips touched his pubic hair, she reached a free hand into her own pants and moaned at her light touch.

Karyn pulled completely back and then spit on Harold's cock. She coated the man's thickness with one hand and then spit again.

"Am I your good girl? Daddy, am I your good girl?" Her hand worked fast against the man's cock. Cars passed occasionally in the night but the street was otherwise empty. Harold grabbed Karyn's hair and pushed her back to his cock. She eagerly bobbed up and down on him, her warm mouth and the huge amount of spit made the sloppy blowjob feel incredible. Karyn's finger rubbed her engorged clit in a furious circle. She pressed against it and to the side and gasped at the sensitivity. She wanted to stop and focus on her building orgasm but she didn't want Daddy to be angry at her. She wanted Daddy to be happy. She wanted him to cum in her mouth. She wanted to see him smile at her and stroke her hair and tell her what a good...

Karyn's orgasm was sudden, sharp and completely unexpected. She looked up at her Daddy, ashamed that she came first. That she was a naughty girl. That she didn't let her Daddy cum before she did. Karyn spit on her Daddy's penis again and rubbed it with both hands. Her smart little tongue licked around the thick head of his penis and then she took him in her mouth again. One hand stroked him while her other hand, coated in her own cum, squeezed and pulled gently at her Daddy's balls.

Two blocks away, the bus lumbered past a green light and began to slow. The sound tugged at Harold's mind and he looked over to see the bus approaching. Suddenly frantic, he pushed at Karyn.

"The bus! The bus is coming!" Harold yelled.

Karyn worked her Daddy's cock faster. He has to be close. Daddy has to be close. I'm not going to stop. I want Daddy's cum. I'm a good girl. I am! I'm a-

Harold jerked as he came. His fingers clenched in Karyn's hair and he gasped out. The bus pulled to a stop in front of him. Harold could see the bus driver, an old white woman, glare at him before immediately pulling away. He knew the woman's name. They talked all the time on his ride home and she had recognized him. What am I going to- Harold hissed through his teeth as Karyn continued to suck his overly sensitive cock. He felt himself swell again and again in her mouth. A line of thick cum slipped from the corner of Karyn's mouth as he pushed her away.

"Too much. Fuck! Too much!"

Karyn wiped at the cum on her mouth and then licked her hand clean.

"Was I good, Daddy? Oh, Daddy, you tasted soooo good. Was I a good girl?"

A vein throbbed in Harold's forehead. He'd missed his bus and the bus driver saw him getting a blowjob. In public. The bus stop was well lit so there was no chance she missed what was going on. And, yet, despite the stress of it all, this woman, this beautiful woman kneeled between his legs and all he wanted was more of her. Harold stroked the young woman's cheek and she nuzzled back at him, beaming in appreciation.

"Yeah," he said, his mouth dry. "Yeah. You were a very, very good girl."

Karyn smiled brightly and then whined, rocking her hips. "Ohhhh, Daddy. I feel so hot inside. Inside my naughty place. I need... I need something... Daddy, I need something. I hurt inside there, Daddy. In a good way but it hurts."

Harold swallowed. "Don't you live near here?"

"Live near-" Karyn's eyebrows furrowed and then she smiled, her bright even teeth showing. "You want to see my room? Oh, Daddy! Yes!" The young woman stood and Harold stood with her, hastily zipping his pants. He stopped Karyn as she turned to walk away. Her massive breasts were still bare.

"Can't you- can't you cover them? Your breasts?" Harold asked.

Karyn frowned and tugged her shirt down. "It hurts, Daddy. They're too big."

"Then, zip up your jacket?"

Karyn shifted her feet, whining. "Can you do it for me?"

Harold glanced at Karyn and then decided to not press the issue. Karyn grinned happily as Harold struggled to zip up her jacket. He finally gave up when the zipped stopped half-way up. In the right light, all you could see was an enormous amount of cleavage but her nipples were hidden. He could feel the zipper threatening to break so he stopped and called it good.

Karyn turned and flounced. Harold swallowed as he watched her. The young woman's ass shifted and shook in her now-tight pants and he could see her breasts swaying heavily even as he stood behind her. His cock ached weakly in his pants. Plenty of time to get hard again, he decided. He followed the young woman down the street.

-----

Robert walked down the street, blushing furiously in his anger. His chest ached and throbbed and his pants were tight against him. The little bitch in the store had patronized him the entire time. Smirking at him as he checked out and left. He'd taken her business card from one of the display cases near the register. It wouldn't take much to find out where she lived and then she'd regret her behavior.

People streamed around him and Robert found his eyes drawn to the men walking nearby. To their crotches. His tongue made a slow circuit against his teeth but the taste of his cum was already gone. His heart hammered in his chest. He couldn't stop wondering what another man's cum would taste like. Robert swallowed several times at the thought of sucking another guy off. The angry blush turned to a deep need and he shivered with the pull of it. Beads of sweat broke out along his forehead.

"I gotta get home," Robert muttered under his breath. "I just-" His apartment loomed above him and Robert fairly ran inside after unlocking the door. The young man rushed up to his room and locked his door behind him. He dropped the expensive bag of clothes to the floor and leaned against his inner wall, panting.

Robert walked unsteadily to his bathroom to splash water on his face. He looked at himself and, again, something felt off. He traced a finger along his cheeks (Were they higher?) down to his chin (Was it softer?) and up to his nose (Was it thinner?) and finally to his eyes. He swore his eyelashes were longer but nothing was immediately obvious.

"Is my hair thicker?" Robert asked, out loud, running his fingers through his hair. As he shifted, he shivered at a twin sensation of pleasure from his chest. The young man slowly took his shirt off, his eyes never leaving the mirror. "Oh. Shit."

Rather than the hard chest he was used to seeing, there were two small breasts dotted with large pink nipples. Robert became awash in a cold sweat as he stared at himself. The fog lifted from his mind and he finally realized what he'd done over the course of the day. Playing with his tiny breasts in the store. Fantasizing about the man in the massage parlor. Eating his own cum. At the thought, he shivered and bit his lip.

Shaking his head to clear the thought, Robert stared at his chest. His chest hair was almost entirely gone. Only a small patch on the middle of his chest, just below his breasts and a line from his belly button to the middle of his chest remained. He carefully touched the skin just under one of the breasts. He expected hard taut muscles (gained from working out constantly) but, instead, touched soft skin. His... breasts... were smaller around than his closed fist and nearly flat against his chest. Both ached and there was a dull throbbing from deep within his chest, just under his breasts.

Looking down, Robert carefully cupped his right breast. The skin of it was extremely soft - softer than any other part of his body and softer than most of the breasts (women's breasts!) he'd played with. While he watched, the darker skin around the right nipple shriveled and moved and twisted and the nipple grew erect. Robert gasped at the feeling of it. He felt himself begin to grow hard from both the sensation and watching it happen.

The young man massaged his breast, carefully avoiding his nipple. The massage helped reduce the ache in the breast but he also found himself involuntarily shifting his feet. It felt really, really good.

Suddenly worried, he stripped down completely and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his cock right where it should be. Robert shivered again and held his sides, arms crossed just under his small breasts. He walked to the bedroom, unaware of the slight sway to his hips and the way his gently curved ass moved as he walked.

I'm fucked. I'm so fucked. It was that bitch at the hotel. It had to have been when she splashed the drink in my face. Whatever was in there is doing this. They have to change me back! They have to- The thought stopped as he remembered his boss talking about the chemist. The very, very dead chemist and how nobody could understand his notes. Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Oh fuck. Maybe that's all. I didn't drink it. Maybe this is it. Maybe that's all it'll do. I can hide these. Hell, I could get surgery for it.

Robert scratched at his smooth, hairless leg. He began to feel a small bit of hope from the nightmare. I can bring the clothes back or just throw them away. I can control myself. This is nothing. I've had worse. I've been through worse. He stood and walked swiftly to the door. Grabbing the black plastic bag, he walked towards the kitchen. I can just keep eating my own cum. I don't need-

Robert stopped. The alien thought had come through naturally, on its own.

No. No I will not. No. I'm not a fucking pervert. I'm not... I'm not gay. That's... that's fucking... The young man shivered again as his tongue rubbed around his teeth. He could almost smell it. His own cum. What did it taste like? He couldn't quite remember anymore. What was it like? Robert dropped the bag and squeezed his body tight. He couldn't remember what his cum tasted like but he could smell it somehow and the taste of it lay just beyond his memory. He felt himself drool a little and his cock stirred. God. It was amazing. The taste of it. And that was just mine. Better than anything else I've ever had.

Robert stroked his limp cock. The fog inside his brain began to return. He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled. The faint smell of his sex was maddening. The young man rubbed his fingers against his lips as he continued to play with himself. His hand came down from his lips to tweak at his nipple and he jumped at the sharp pain and deep pleasure. His cock stirred and he moaned deeply but, still he was limp.

Slowly, unseen, his fingernails lengthened past his fingertips and then stopped. Robert released his nipple to massage his breast again. When the heel of his hand brushed the skin below his breast, chest hair easily came away. I just... I just need to get hard and cum. I just need to taste it. That's all. That's all I need. I just need...

Robert licked his lips as he began to sweat. He grunted as he jerked at his cock. The very edge of the bones of his face melted away and the shape of his face changed again. His smaller nose flared as he began to breathe hard. He pinched at his thick, pink nipple while massaging his breast and a moan escaped his lips. Those same lips swelled minutely.

And, yet, his cock still wouldn't grow hard. Robert let out a shriek of frustration and his voice cracked. He stood there in his living room, panting. He knew he could usually get hard several times but something was off or he'd already spent himself too much. He shivered as his body broke out into another cold sweat. I can't. I can't wait. I have to have it. I have to. I-

The solution crashed into Robert and he smiled tremulously. There was no other choice. None. Rational thought had fled earlier and left him with an insane, overriding need.

Lifting the bag of clothes, Robert brought it to the bed and dumped out the contents. Nearly transparent panties, pink top, black mini-skirt and pink cashmere sweater all fell to the bed. He licked his lips.

Grabbing the thin, lacey panties, Robert stepped into them. He pulled the panties up over his smooth legs, working his hips to let the high-riding panties sit just right. The mini-skirt followed and he felt a thrill from putting it on. He'd guessed at his size in the store and found he'd been right, but just barely. The skirt hugged his hips. Robert looked at the shirt and sweater. He'd forgotten a bra. A deep red blush of embarrassment crept up his neck.

Robert grabbed the sweater. The fabric felt incredibly soft in his hands. He brought it to his face and smiled, rubbing it against his check with his eyes closed. Still smiling, he slipped the sweater over his head and then down, gasping as it slid against his erect nipples.

The young man stepped into the bathroom to look at himself. He blushed shyly at himself in the clothes. He thought he looked... nice. Sexy, even. Robert placed his hands on his hips and turned a little. The back of the skirt bulged out slightly and he grinned at it. The black fabric neatly absorbed the small bump of his limp cock.

"I wish I had a wig," Robert said to his reflection. He pulled at his thicker lips and eyes and then squealed with happiness. Digging through a drawer under the sink, he found an old makeup kit left by a previous lover. It was a small white bag and he found himself unsure of what most of the things were. Still, the red lipstick was fairly obvious.

Removing the cap and twisting the bottom, Robert leaned into the mirror and pushed the lipstick against his lips. It came on too thick at first so he wiped it away and tried again. Softly. In small strokes. He pursed his lips out and used the flat edge of the lipstick to brush up on his top lip to add color. A hint of color. And then, the same to his bottom lip, pulling down as he slowly worked around the lip. It wasn't perfect but he was proud of himself.

Another of the things from the kit looked familiar - a large soft brush. He placed it against his cheek and softly brushed at his skin. Tiny hairs flaked away as the brush swept over his face. He couldn't tell if the brush did anything but he figured it couldn't hurt so he did the other side as well. He thought perhaps he was supposed to coat the brush from something else in the kit but he was afraid of messing up and didn't want to take the time to look. He was practically frantic with desire.

He looked at himself again. A vaguely feminine face looked back at him. He blushed and the face blushed back. It was still him but still just a little different. His chin looked sharper somehow. And his lips looked sexy. He pushed them out in a mock pout and then smiled at himself. He would look better with a woman's wig but he was beginning to care less and less about how feminine he looked.

Under his cashmere sweater, the skin at the bottom and side of his breasts moved. Still mostly flat, his breasts grew larger and the nipples shifted in response. Robert barely noticed.

"Oh no," Robert whined. "Shoes! I didn't get any shoes!" His voice cracked at the end and it changed, growing to a slightly higher pitch. The young man bit his lip and then cursed himself when he remembered the lipstick he was wearing. What should I do? Oh god. I can't wait. I can't go to a store and buy shoes. I just... I can't... I don't care. I don't care, I don't care. Before he could change his mind, Robert grabbed his black jogging shoes and slipped them on.

Robert took his keys, wallet and cellphone and then stamped his foot when he realized he had no pockets. I'll hold onto them. It doesn't matter. And I can put my things on the bar when I get there. The young man smiled as he locked the apartment door and walked into the night.