Can this be real?

Sitting in my little coupe, the house I grew up in sits in front of me. I should feel warm and safe, yet here I tremble with cold and fear. My mind has been so consumed with my ultimate blunder that I can’t even recall the drive home. Surely this is all just a nightmare that I’ll wake from as soon as I set foot inside.

Yet, here I remain, frozen in place, unable to fathom the extent of Roland’s betrayal. He made me a girl! … NO … I made myself a girl! … CRYSTAL … What was my name before anyway? Christopher? … Christian? … Chris? … Crystal !!! It’s always been … CRYSTAL!

Despair, worry and anxiety begins to fill my soul, knowing this isn’t right, but unable to recall anything from the past, other than what is … true?

There’s only one way to find out how far reaching the changes are. Move on! Move forward! Determination seems to allay some fears giving my muscles strength to do just that … move forward.

Luckily the drive home wasn’t that long. Blackness envelopes the tiny household, except for a yellowing porch light and the faint glow of light seeping from behind a closed curtain of what must be mom and dad’s room. I exit the car and retrieve my belongings that were hastily stuffed into a suitcase along with my … pink? … backpack.

Walking through the front door, familiarity breeds comfort and an inner warmth. At least some things haven’t changed. Thank goodness no one is here to greet me. Mom and dad are most likely in bed at this late hour. There’s no need to explore the house, so it’s off to my room I head, with luggage in tow. The door closes with a slight creak, followed by the click of the lock. As I head to the stairs, there on the wall was the family portrait that was taken last summer vacation.

For some reason, I can’t fathom, I turn to gaze at the photo, staring at the figures. Even in the dark, I can still see everyone clearly, but something is amiss forcing me to study it more closely. Dad is standing next to mom with the three kids in front. To the left is my older brother Lloyd, and to the right is my younger brother Aiden. The backpack falls from my shoulder as I drop the suitcase to cover my mouth, trying to stifle the shriek. My heart is pounding in my throat, and I can’t breathe. In between my brothers stands a young brunette with hair just below her shoulders wearing cutoff blue jean shorts and a black bikini top, posed with her back arched to show off her B cups. A flirtatious smile is pasted on her lips, eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“It can’t be …” the words spilling audibly from my mouth as I continue to stare in disbelief. I remember the picture being taken. I remember standing between my brothers. I remember being a boy … but yet … but … but maybe … maybe I’m … I could be mistaken … I could have been … maybe … maybe I was … a GIRL! God my head hurt!

I grab my belongings once again and head straight to my room. I push through the door, plop everything onto the floor and close the door, leaning back against it for support. My breathing hasn’t slowed and it takes every bit of energy I can muster to calm myself.

I turn the light on in my room. Any sense of normalcy had been completely erased when my eyes adjust to the sudden burst of light. This wasn’t my room! The blues and grays were transformed into pinks and whites; rock band posters were replaced by boy band posters; footballs, baseballs and basketballs were now pom poms and tiny megaphones.

The screaming noise inside my head continues to increase, threatening to break through my clenched mouth. I make a beeline to the adjoining shared bathroom, thankful that it’s empty, and drop to my knees over the toilet. Any hopes at relief never come, only panicked breaths suffice to fill my lungs with very little air. I have no clue how much time has passed till I calm enough to stand and reassess my situation.

As difficult as it is, I manage to stand upright and prop myself at the sink, looking at the image staring back at me in the mirror. The first thing that draws my attention is hair … hair that hangs loose in waves, draping just past my shoulders. Running my hands through it, I can sense the silkiness of the strands as it slips past my fingers … Fingers … Once calloused tips are now smooth with short, but clearly manicured nails. Eyes seem more narrow than before, eyebrows are thinned and arched to highlight softer facial features, like the high cheekbones that stand out. Even my nose seems thinner and smaller. My lips are full and soft. Definitely a girl’s face!

“Damn you Roland. Why did you have to do this?” My whispered cry went unanswered of course.

My despair is interrupted by Mother Nature, which hadn’t reared her head yet. My bladder was full and the need for relief was urgent. I guess peeing standing up is out of the question. The experience was relatively uneventful, but still quite unique. Of course I have problems figuring out how to wipe up, and merely dab repeatedly until dry.

Sitting on the toilet, gives me an opportunity to “inspect” myself that I haven’t had yet. There between my legs, where my penis used to be is now … nothing. A small tuft of unkempt hair obstructs my view somewhat. Curiosity overtakes me as I reach between and pry the lips apart. A waft of cool air makes contact with the exposed flesh, sending a tingle through my loins and up along my spine; a warmth reverberates back down my spine and spreads to my fingertips. Curiosity builds from within as my now nimble fingers begin an exploration of …

The unmistakable sounds of moans and grunting accompanied with a rhythmic pounding break me from my trance. Drawn like a moth to a flame, I redress and pry open the door leading to the hallway. The noise is louder and clearer, coming from the room at the end of the hallway. The door is slightly cracked ajar, warm amber light seeping through the open frame, shadows dancing across the visible space, in syncopation with the tap, tap, bang reaching my ears. My footsteps are inaudible across the carpeted floor as I creep closer.

The urge to be a voyeur is overwhelming as I crane my neck and tilt my head to gain an advantageous view. Sure enough, my suspicions are correct, but I am totally unprepared for the pornography I encounter. Lying with her back on the bed, my mother has her lithe, long legs raised and wrapped around my father’s back, her ankles locked just above his naked ass, rising and falling with his hips as he saws his cock in and out of her womanly core. Her cries of sexual hunger and need fill the room as she begs him to continue.

His cock … his long, thick cock … his long, thick, glistening cock … buries itself in her welcoming sex, penetrating her very core. Her thick juices cling to … his cock … his long, thick cock … his long, thick glistening cock with bulging veins and arteries … as it saws in and out. Her splayed labia draw in with every thrust and cling tightly with each retreat of … his magnificent cock! Frozen in place, I can’t move my eyes from the virile specimen as it lays claim to its target.

I feel my breathing quicken, my chest tightens, and my heart pounds loudly in my throat. My unblinking eyes record every fine detail of his … my father’s … cock. My mouth begins to water as an unfamiliar warm wetness threatens to spill from my loins. My nipples harden into rock hard pebbles, painfully scraping across the cotton of my tee shirt. My hands, of their own accord, begin pawing and mauling the orbs of tightened flesh. It feels like diamond tips are cutting into my palms. There is no relief as an uncontrollable itch begins to burn between my legs. I squirm and squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve the sensation, while groping my tits harder, eyes glued to the spectacle before me. My shirt slowly rises to the undersides of my breasts as it bunches around my neck until my hands make direct contact with heated flesh. Cupping each orb, thumbs flicking across distended nipples, I can barely stand, supporting myself against the door jamb. My eyes begin to blur as tiny waves of ecstasy ripple throughout my chest.

My initiation into masturbation as a girl is interrupted when the sounds of mutual climax fill the room with audible cries to the gods. The incessant pounding has ceased, my father’s length fully entrenched within my mother’s sodden, swollen, red pussy. A viscous stream of thick white, frothy substance leaks from the juncture, trailing between her ass cheeks before puddling onto the bed. Mom’s legs drop in exhaustion, splayed wide to accommodate her lover.

I retreat from the doorway, exhausted, frustrated, and most of all, confused. I silently enter my bedroom and throw myself onto the bed, squeezing the pillow tightly so my hands won’t wander of their own volition. My face buried in the downy softness, I slowly strain to regain my breathing, while images of what just transpired replay through my mind. Picture after picture is focused solely on the tumescent muscle, featuring every fine detail of its structure. A burning, lasting image is forever imprinted in my brain.

Seemingly out of nowhere, images of Roland’s cock begin appearing and I am **** to compare the two. Roland’s cock was big, but paled in comparison to my father’s. The taste and smell of Roland’s cock permeates my brain. The sour, salty, jello like substance drained from his tip flooded my senses. Then dad’s cock reappears and a barrage of comparison questions rattle my fragile brain. What does dad’s cock taste like? What does it smell like? Is his cum salty and sour? Can I fit him in my mouth? …

Panicked at my own thoughts, I scream into the pillow to clear my head!

Breathing normally and having cleared the fog somewhat, I focus on Roland. His words and commands and what it entails. While my world and memories have been warped, his “game,” as he calls it, remains embedded within. Suck a cock to completion every day. Orgasm and love the taste of cum. Return at the end of summer vacation.

Summer vacation! Ninety days of summer vacation until I return to college, return to Roland, and return to being a man. Ninety days of sucking cock. Ninety cocks sucked to completion. Ninety loads of cum. Ninety orgasms … as a girl! … Ninety … Ninety! … Ninety? … Ninety what? … Ninety different cocks, or the same cock ninety times? Oooohhh I need clarification, I need to know. What am I supposed to do?

Hastily I reach for my phone. I can’t call at this late hour. I’ll text him!

Roland! We need to talk! Please call me. Message sent! … No reply … No reply … I have questions. Please!?! … Still nothing. I’ll have to wait till morning.

Meanwhile back at the University….
A gentle vibration of his phone and the illumination of it’s light woke Roland from an otherwise restful slumber, having dozed off immediately after Crystal left for home. Grabbing his phone, he blinked several times and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the recent text messages. Crystal’s plea was read as Roland tried to wipe the cobwebs from his brain. It suddenly dawned on him … THE STONE!
Where was it? The last thing he remembered was holding it in his hands as he laid down and drifted to sleep. He patted nervously around the bed, searching blindly in the dark for the hard, smooth stone. Worried breaths filled his lungs as desperation and fear built within. A quick scan of the room, even though dark, revealed nothing had been altered. Had Crystal come back and claimed the stone? Had his roommate Tyler come in and confiscated the odd relic?

Panic and dread were now rampant as Roland bolted from the bed. “OUCH!” He screamed in pain as he stepped off the bed. There, beneath his right foot was the very object of his search, the stone with magical properties. He reached down and grabbed the stone with one hand, sat back on the bed and rubbed his foot with the other.

Tyler woke from his sleep with only half concern and Roland assured him that he was fine. Tyler rolled over, pulled the blanket over his head and returned to his snoring slumber.
“I’ve got to be more careful with this. I need to find somewhere to keep this safe and sound.” Roland’s whispers went unheard by his sleeping roommate.

With the pain resolved, Roland rose from his bed and moved to the adjoining room, where he sat at his desk. Not to bother Tyler any more, he turned the desk lamp on and studied the stone in minute detail. Sitting in the palm of his hand, he contemplated its power and the far reaching effects it could have. It obviously changed his best friend into a girl, and all memories of the past were rewoven to incorporate that change. Roland even realized that despite his knowledge, his own recollection of the past was changing. His impulsive behavior capitalized on the stone’s literal interpretation of the wish bestowed upon it. His own sexual desire drove his decision to impose the rules onto Crystal. These were sexual desires that could only be described as temporarily satiated, given the exquisite feeling of release into the waiting, hungry mouth of his lifelong … female … friend.

Roland knew he had to be careful. The stone could not fall into the wrong hands, nor be lost. He also needed to be careful with any wishes bestowed upon it, for it could lead to drastic, unwanted results. The wishes needed to be more carefully thought out, rather than impulsive. If he were to use the stone again, he would need to make sure there were no undue side effects that could backfire on his plans.

What were his plans? Roland couldn’t even think that far in advance. He had set Crystal upon a path, one towards being his loyal, servant, submissive, sexual, girlfriend. He gave her an out … completing the tasks … but did he want her to succeed? Did he want her to transform back into a man? Roland knew the answer to that! This was an opportunity the otherwise nerdy Roland would never have. No girl, of any value, even gave him the time of day, nor would they engage in any kind of substantial conversation. He was always the nerdy … perverted … shy … lonely … repressed … Roland, everybody knew.

Roland grabbed his phone and reread the messages from Crystal. With renewed determination and concentration, Roland twirled the stone in his other palm. Varying thoughts were running through his brain, but he steadied his breathing until he could concentrate on his next wish/command.

There was no doubt, Crystal wanted to talk about the stone and “the game.” If Roland had any chance of succeeding in making Crystal his girlfriend, he needed to distract her and otherwise keep her focused on herself. True, if she failed, she’d be his in a heartbeat, but he wanted something deeper, more primal. He wanted her mind! Thus, the cocksucking quest was born. Make her the best cock sucking girl for miles around. Additionally, Roland took great thrill in a gentle transformation, rather than the abrupt change Crystal brought upon herself.

”Stone …” The smooth orb began vibrating, coming to life, a faint green glow emanating from it. “… compel Crystal to continually contemplate the game in her mind, but prevent her from ever speaking or writing about it.” A bright green flash filled the room and quickly dissipated. A quick look around confirmed that nothing drastic had changed.

Confident, Roland searched for someplace safe to keep the stone. It dawned on him that every student had a lockbox. However, that didn’t seem safe enough, so Roland summoned the stone once more. “Stone … make my lockbox invisible to everyone except myself.” This time the explosive green flash seemed more intense, nearly blowing Roland out of his seat. When all had calmed, the lockbox remained in front of him, in plain view. Roland took the key and opened the tiny safe and placed the stone inside.

Safe … secured … subtle changes being made … Roland checked off the items in his head. He rose from his seat and crept back into bed, lying comfortably as he dreamed of a future that could very well be!