CW: gender swap, TF.
You know you've reached a crisis when you can sit through a video of Dead or Alive's Kasumi getting absolutely railed by a 4 foot cock and not get hard yourself.
The animated nympho wailed and begged for more from her unseen lover, gratuitous sweat and splatters of cum speckling her shimmering red hair, perfect body, engorged breasts, tiny waist, long legs, and the frame on the widescreen tv in front of us. The sort of porn we stuck with thanks to Logan's tastes. I was always open to his suggestions. And it's not like I hated the stuff. I'd been into it for a while now thanks to him.
But even with my dick (the word seeming too generous for what I was packing) in my hands, I couldn't get it up. I shuddered, knowing what my pecker required. I had to look away from the screen. Yeah, away from those bouncing volleyball tits laced with slick spunk. Imagine that.
Now, I didn't--uh don't--consider myself gay. I knew I wasn't bi or anything. I'd had girlfriends before and even made it a few times. This wasn't anything unusual, I told myself, just being real... and then I did it. I stole a glance at Logan next to me. Clenching my jaw, hoping he wouldn't see me taking him in with my peripheral vision, I took in the view. And what a view.
Fortunately, his eyes were thrown shut, he was somewhere far away in a realm of euphoria I couldn't understand. I could only speculate what it must be like. But I think I knew why he felt that way...
His pants down around his ankles like mine where we sat on the couch, he had no trouble getting hard. Never did. Looked like he had no trouble getting harder than hard. I looked back at my own crotch, a twig compared to his branch. A slug beside a dragon. My jealous, despairing, admiring eyes--though I'd never audibly phrase it that way!--drifted back to his monster. Damn.
I felt the quiet throb in my penis that signaled blood was finally, finally willing to flow.
Both of Logan's fists were tightened around the neck of his anaconda, choking it with room for a whole 'nother hand. Veins bulged under the thin layer of reddened skin stretched thin over that over-stuffed sausage, ready to burst, shining with the steady drip of precum that naturally lubricated his far superior manhood. The almost spear-like crimson apple that topped his phallic beast pointed toward the ceiling, or slapped his goddamn perfect abs if he let go of his horse cock, spattering speckles of white over the embossed rows of the abdominal muscles of his tiny waist.
I told myself I'd never had a tool that looked that good or that felt that good between my pale, flabby legs. I pinched my own weiner between two fingers as it rapidly swelled to its shameful 3-inch length. Okay… 2 and a half. He probably had me beat three times over. I wondered if it felt so good that he could even cum twice. Today... I wondered what it tasted like… mind wandering…
My daydream was interrupted by his climax. All his peach-glazed muscles tensed and he reached for a towel to contain his deluge. He let his head fall back and roared like a sexy savage beast, a lion in charge of his pride, uncontested, unconquered, unstoppable. I couldn't help myself. I craned my neck and watched him orgasm to the sound of the anime girl getting her ass drilled on screen.
When he started winding down, I reached for a tissue and made a pathetic show of a silent orgasm, then stood up and pulled my pants back on. I sat back down, unable to look at Logan or his heavy breathing or his thin layer of sweat over his ribbed pecs and broad shoulders or his slowly softening monstrosity. It took him a while to catch his breath, but he startled me.
"We need… to talk… dude."
He was still gasping, words ragged.
"You wanna get a bite to eat?" I reached for the remote to shut off our hentai.
"No." I felt his warm, steely hand on my forearm. I tensed up. "We need to talk about you."
"What about me?" I pulled my arm back and sat up, away from him, on the furthest end of the couch.
"Don't you think it's time you... were a little honest with yourself?"
I could tell this was awkward for both of us. He was having as tough a time as I was hearing these words. I looked toward him but not at him and he didn't try to meet my gaze. I stared at the floor, feeling more blood rush to my face than had ever rushed to my penis.
"I know..." he said slowly, "that you're unique and... I think it's time you came out."
I swallowed hard.
"W-what do you mean?"
“You know what I mean, bro.”
I pushed my lips closed, felt sweat bead on my temples.
"I can help you." A huge smile spread across his face. A smile you could feel. Those bright blue eyes. Perfect teeth. Chiseled jaw. Toss of sandy brown hair. I've watched women of all walks of life fall for that smile. I'd watched full of jealousy, hatred, desire, affection, a mess of emotions yearning and pining for longer than I could remember. But I couldn't find the words to say. Convenient, now that I had the attention of this perfect man.
I felt like an ugly lump in front of so much youthful, energetic masculine power.
"Hypnosis can be an effective tool..." he began.
"No."
I said it to the carpet but I said it firmly. My voice began rising.
"Like, you know who you are, right? You know hypnosis doesn't work. Cuz you've tried it and it's escapism. It's just escapism. You know it's only a way to get away from reality. Well, reality... it's all there is and you just have to suck it up. You're not doing anything wrong. You just don't want to try it, okay?"
"...Are you talking about yourself in second person?" he said, sitting there completely naked, completely open in front of me. "We've known each for a long time. It's okay."
I let out a long sigh and felt like tears would come out with it. I maintained my composure. I knew what he wanted. I knew what I wanted. But I couldn't help myself, I was open to his suggestion.
"What is it you want to try, Logan?"
"I want to help you realize your true self. You cna be proud of who you are." He stood up, grinning, still very nude, still an image of a bronze muscle god, lit from behind by the Saturday sunset through the open window of his apartment. "Y'know, true self, being more honest about what kind of..." he stopped himself. I could feel him consciously trying to be sensitive. "The kind of person you want to be."
A moment of awkward silence.
"Can you...?" I stifled a giggle, despite myself, surprising myself. "Can you put your pants back on?"
Now it was his turn to blush. He never blushed like that and we'd been nude together in our jerk off sessions hundreds of times. I could feel my pulse quickening in my neck. The hairs on my arm stood up with anticipation. Something was happening between us, something that'd make this session different from all the others.
Change.
Inevitable, irresistible, unstoppable change was coming.
Logan got his shorts back on but stayed shirtless. I still had a hard time focusing but he was pulling out all the stops, getting his salesman personality on now. My peripheral vision involuntarily chased his flexing, undulating abs, pecs, shoulders, lats as he strutted past me. He was tall, towering over me where I sat.
He grabbed a dining chair, plopped it in front of me, sat, and leaned forward. I had no way to resist. I didn't want to resist. I was proverbial putty in his hands.
"We've been friends for years. You can tell me about anything, dude. Anything."
"Well, I'm not gay." I said to the ceiling.
"I'm not suggesting you are."
I clenched my jaw, forced myself to look into his eyes.
“But I think you’re not being honest with yourself,” he said.
I searched for any inkling that he'd caught me watching him jerk off or ogle his body in any way, half afraid he'd beat the shit out of me and half afraid he'd accept my lust. Lust. Dammit. I can't believe I thought that word. But that's what it was.
"Let's just try exploring,” he urged, “Maybe you're not ready to tell me outright, and that's fine. We’re not here to tell me. We’re here to tell you. But... I know you’re only holding yourself back." He got up, closed the curtain across the window, dimmed the lights, even lit a damn candle. "Maybe it's something you'll be more comfortable talking about if you're more comfortable."
"What is this, the spa treatment?" I joked but he just smirked right through my self-defense.
"Ease back on that pillow. Alright, cool. Relax. I'll just get you into a restful peaceful state and then we can talk. It's fine."
I sighed, "Time to see if those therapist lessons pay off." But I did what he said, put my head back, leaned into the sofa, put my hands at my sides. "Should I shut my eyes?"
"You don't have to." That smirk again. God. "Forget everything you think you know about hypnosis. It’s not like in cartoons. I don't have a watch to dangle in front of your face. There's nothing psychic here. Just relax. Relax. Hypnosis is just about focus and relaxation. Focus and relaxation."
His voice started dropping to a lower register as he looked into my eyes. Not just into them but behind them. Into me. The me inside me.
“Focus and relaxation.”
A slight gravelly quality came into his tone as he softly, deeply repeated a few words and phrases. I went ahead and kept my eyes open.
Sure, I might’ve felt safer with them closed… hidden in my own little darkness. I could pretend Logan wasn't there, staring at me with those bright eyes in his well-framed face, narrow jaw, cute nose, handsome stubble… but it’s not like I wanted to miss out on this attention. He was so close to me. Our knees practically touched. I could smell him, feel the heat coming off his perfect shirtless body. Lazily, I watched the subtle movements of his steel-hard muscles under his bronze skin, distracted… drifting… failing to stop myself…
“Focus and relaxation. Let yourself go. Easy. Take a moment to rest every part of your body… Let your toes rest…”
And I followed him, powerless to resist his instructions masquerading as suggestions. I felt my toes relaxing, then my feet, my legs, my thighs. On up through my chest and down my arms. My neck. My eyes felt tired and heavy. My breathing slowed to a gentle pace. Even my heartbeat dwindled until it felt like I’d fall asleep, a miracle with the scent of Logan’s sweat and breath filling my space.
“You’re so relaxed now and you're so comfortable. You’re open to my suggestions. You can feel what I’m saying to you, deep down. So comfortable and relaxed. So open and ready…”
His voice changed rhythm.
“Now, imagine you’re in a dark, safe place. A dark, safe place where everything is fine. Everything is alright. And you’re so safe and comfortable. There’s a light there to keep you warm… Can you see it?”
“Yes.” And I really could in my mind’s eye. I surprised myself, hearing my own voice from deep within myself.
“Good, you’re doing so good.” His warm, reassuring voice felt like the light I saw in my dark, safe space. “Now… I want you to go into the light… there’s a person there… Can you see them?”
“Yes.”
Inside the light, the shape of a person appeared, but I couldn’t quite see their features or figure out who it was.
“Do you know who the person is in the light…? It’s you…”
I smiled, almost involuntarily.
“It’s you but your ideal you, who your subconscious knows you really are… Take a good long look… look for the person in the light… and feel so comfortable and relaxed and open…”
The lighter grew brighter, warmer, more inviting.
“Do you want to see yourself as you truly are?”
I breathed out a long sigh of longing, “Yes.”
“Then follow my suggestions… when I snap my fingers, you’ll feel so good. Every time I snap my fingers, you’ll feel better than you ever have. So full of life and joy and energy and pleasure and fun. When I snap my fingers you’ll feel all of that. You’ll feel good. It’ll feel amazing… Are you ready?”
I couldn’t say no. Didn’t want to say no. We had never been this naked and open with each other before. But I couldn’t resist his suggestions. I was ready.
Yearning, “Yes.”
“Tell me what is the name of the person in the light?”
And he snapped his fingers. A rush of pleasure ran through my body like a jolt of electricity.
“...Vanessa…” I let out a soft, half-whispered moan.
I could see the strange mixture of surprise and belief in his face as he watched me, but I found that I didn’t care. The warmth washing over me felt as good as he told me it would. Even better, I felt free speaking the name I never knew existed inside me. This wave of beautiful feelings passed over me, a thrill of excitement and joy, a miniature orgasm… I didn’t want it to end. I felt my cock throb. I felt my pulse heighten. I felt my temperature rise.
In my mind’s eye, I saw the light unfold like a flower and inside the beginning of the form taking shape, coming out of the light, ascending out of it, slowly. So slowly.
“Good,” I heard Logan say, “Very good. Now what comes next is going to be hard… but you’ll do it for yourself and you’ll do it for me, won’t you? You’ll follow my suggestions, right, Vanessa?”
My cock throbbed again… he called me Vanessa. Nobody had ever called me that name before. It felt… right. So right. So good. Too late. Can’t think. He snapped his fingers again.
The wave of euphoria was slightly stronger this time. I rode the crest and savored the sensations before they dissipated again.
“Y-yes…” my words had to fight through the pleasure.
“Good. That’s good. Vanessa… you are feeling light now. Lighter where you sit. Lighter where your…” he paused, “w-where your body lies…”
What’s happening? Still out of it but I could see him. He filled up my vision. Looking anxious. No, nervous.
“L-lighter and lighter…” he swallowed hard, “smaller… like you’re now swimming in your clothes… too big for you… Good, good…” and he snapped his fingers.
Through the flood of electricity lighting up every nerve ending from my fingertips to my toes to the pleasure receptors of my brain, I did feel lighter. I felt like a balloon floating, almost, except… except of feeling air filling me up it was like I felt myself emptying.
What he said next would’ve alarmed me, had I been in my right mind and not under some intense state of trance I’d never experienced before, a trance I wanted to experience so badly.
“Your whole body…” he began slowly and I could feel his eyes studying me, “...is lighter than ever… slimmer… tighter… more fit… especially around your waist… and it feels good, doesn’t it, Vanessa?”
I nodded, almost drooling, savoring the receding warmth of pleasure and the sensations of gravity shifting for my body… my new body… whatever he was doing to me.
“Vanessa.” He looked deep into my entranced eyes. “Your face…”
If not for the intoxicating rhythm of his voice and the high of his presence saturating my consciousness, he might’ve snapped me out of my trance with those words. I’d have reached up with my hand to swat something off my face, but my arms, so light, they felt so heavy, too heavy to move.
“...you’re beautiful…” and he snapped his fingers.
My body locked up, seized by the powerful radiating effulgence racing through my blood and my heart. I could feel my face burning hot, I must’ve been blushing like crazy. The thought was the cherry on top of the euphoria cake. I was rock hard between my legs. And I could feel it… no, I believed him, believed his words. I was beautiful. I let out a long slow gasp and felt my lips purse and part, feeling so cute and kissable and… dare I say it, even sexy?
My eyes lazily drank in the rounded muscular shoulders, the large biceps, those hot veins, his forearms lying against his lap. He’d leaned back, a mixture of surprise and contentment on his face, but his crotch told the story better than his expression could. I saw his tent, his throbbing cock pushing against the fabric that covered it. God. So big. What could be causing it?
Did he get off on putting people in a trance?
No more questions.
Enjoy the ride.
Just enjoy.
“Your lips, so full and plump and juicy. Your face taking on a cute oval shape. Your skeletal structure reforming… Your cheekbones higher. Your eyes smiling, almond shapes. No more masculine facial hair…”
What the hell are you talking about?
Finger snap. Logan didn’t repeat his affirmation.
I wanted to say… I wanted to say… but it felt too good.
“But your hair… the hair on your head is long and flowing and…” the pause felt so sexy as my body shook with carnal delight, “red. Yes, the color red, Vanessa. Beautiful auburn brownish red locks running down your neck, down your shoulders, down your arms…”
He snapped again.
Wasn’t ready.
Clenched my teeth.
Shut my eyes.
“But… there’s still more Vanessa… no more hardness… no more boners… only softness… soft womanly vagina where your penis used to be… You’re becoming more feminine yourself… even your voice changing…”
What. The. Fuck.
Still riding the crest of the second hypnotic orgasm, he snapped his fingers again, right next to my ear. My eyes shot open. The third crashed in on me like the building collapsing. I couldn’t feel myself breathing. Drool dribbled down onto my shirt. And I saw him stroking himself, his eyes devouring me.
Me? Not Kasumi that big tiddy bimbo getting skewered on screen earlier? Me, not any of his other favorites? He looked at me like he looked at those impossibly feminine digital women, a fiction made reality, reality made fiction, a mess of hypno psychotic dreamscapes muddling about with my IRL giggles and hehehe OMG his dick looked so I wonder what it taste like… losing myself. Losing myself and wanting nothing more than that.
“Vanessa…” Logan said, cutting through the haze of broken thoughts. “Stop. You can stop now. Good, just like that. You can stop now… and you can return from the safe place… return from that safe, warm place… knowing you can go back there whenever you want, knowing you and I can go back there any time… You can come back, come out of your trance, and wake up. It’s time to wake up and come back. Now…”
I took a breath and it felt like the first breath I had ever taken. The air felt fresh. No, it was me. I felt… different.
I saw his hand stop stroking. Now he tried, in vain, to cover up the obscene bulge. I furrowed my brow. He hadn’t ever seemed ashamed of his manhood in front of me before. He was acting so strange.
“I didn’t think that was gonna work–” I stood up, but in that moment, a few things happened. My sense of weight was all off. I threw myself onto my feet like I usually did but I was lighter and… smaller? I started falling forward, completely thrown off not just by my balance but by the sound of my voice. Was it even my voice? It was higher pitched, musical, even sweet.
As I stumbled, Logan jumped to his own feet and caught me, large hands on my shoulders, covering them under his huge palms. God they seemed big. Or I seemed small. I looked up at him… and up and up… he had always been the taller one but now? My eyes only came up to his chest… his big, heavy, shredded, muscular chest…
I put a hand on my head and shook it with my eyes shut.
“What’s happened…? What happened to me?”
Then I opened my eyes and saw it, strands of red hair dangling entangled in my fingers, hanging in front of my face. I was speechless.
“Now don’t panic…” Logan said above a whisper, “l-let’s talk through this…”
I turned around, steadying myself against him, and looked behind me where a mirror hung above the sofa where I sat. I saw a redhead peeking back at me above the bottom of the mirror… with kissable lips, high cheekbones, no turkey neck, no neckbeard, no stumpy nose, just a cute, even beautiful face. My face. Now rosied and stained with slow trails of tears, my fingers gracing it in gentle disbelief.
I looked down, seeing my smaller slimmer body draped in the heavy robe of a man’s shirt, the shirt I wore as a man, and I lifted it, pulled the waistband away from my body and gasped at the sight, or lack thereof: no dick!
I felt Logan behind me, hands still on my shoulders, then his arms reaching around me, hugging me. With one hand he reached up and stroked the hair out of my face, ran the backsides of his fingers down my cheek to wipe away the tears. I’d never felt so… loved.
“It’s alright,” he whispered to me, “I can fix this, I know it…”
“Fix it?” I couldn’t help the beaming grin that spread across my gorgeous face, “Fix it? I love it.”
He stiffened.
“Y-you do?”
I turned back toward him, enjoying the heavy strength of his arms against the back of my neck… a feeling I never thought I’d ever feel, never even imagined. I looked up into his eyes and felt him looking back into me. I breathed in all his masculinity, all his power, all his inebriating size. What a rush.
And I figured out what to say to him.
“You did it. This is the real me.”
I leaned my head against him, right in that inviting valley between his engorged pecs, where I’ve always wanted to be.
“Just call me Vanessa.”
He was trembling. Actually trembling! But he wrapped his arms around me. Pulled me in. Wrapped me up in his strength. I felt his cheek press against the top of my head. I never wanted to leave. So much muscle. I could feel his powerful tool still throbbing, pressed tight between our bodies, but in that moment, to my surprise, there was nothing… overtly sexual.
I’d wanted this, denied myself realizing it, but I’d wanted this for years now… I just wanted to savor the moment feeling like a delicate flower in his hands and give Logan everything he wanted… and let the realization dawn on me that he had feelings, too.
“How did you… did you do this to me?”
I could feel him searching for the words. “I… I don’t know… This doesn’t usually happen when I put somebody under.”
“I’m glad it worked.” I hugged his waist tighter.
A pause. “Me too.”
“You said that uhm… we could go back there whenever we wanted? I mean, you can put me under a trance anytime?”
“Yeah that’s right. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
I smiled. “Is there anything else you want to do to this body?”
He gulped and his face went a little pale. We could both feel the blood rushing somewhere else.
“W-what did you have in mind, Vanessa?”
“Well… I’m open to your suggestions.” And I winked at him, heavy eyelashes fluttering. I felt my own kind of power. Just a glance, just the smallest gesture, and I could sense he was ready to blow. “Maybe you could make me look… a little more like you like a woman to look?” My hand slid between our tummies, down his chiseled abs, resting on the swollen shaft of his aching dick, giving it a squeeze. “I think you know what you want to see…”
Awkward. So damn awkward. I didn’t know how I was supposed to talk.
He didn’t seem to mind.
“Vanessa, I…” he groaned.
A thrill ran through each of our bodies at the thought of filling out my petite, flat-chested frame with breasts like volleyballs and curves that could throw any man off his feet. Whatever he wanted. I was his to mold, his to love and shape. I had no choice and I didn’t want one. This is who I am now. No, who I always was.
I just had to wait for him to snap his fingers.