Gabriel waking up in his bed

The morning light filters through your bedroom window, casting soft streaks across your bed. Your head feels fuzzy with sleep, but something feels... different. You rub your eyes again, blinking as awareness returns. Your room looks exactly the same—the same clothes hanging in the closet, the same desk covered in textbooks, the same bookshelf filled with comics—but there's a faint musk in the air, a subtle thrum beneath your skin that wasn't there before.

As you push back the covers, you notice it immediately: the ache between your legs. Your boxers are damp, the fabric clinging to your thighs.

The cool water stings slightly as you clean yourself, the slickness of your body making the task more uncomfortable than usual. Your cock throbs, half-hard even as you rinse it, responding with a pulse of need. You bite your lip and focus on the simple task of washing away the evidence of your night's... activities.

When you look up, the mirror shows a face you recognize—brown hair still tousled from sleep, green eyes half-lidded—but your features have changed slightly. Your lips are fuller, your eyelashes longer, your jaw more angular. You press a finger to your reflection, feeling the soft skin of your face. It's the same, but different.

You pull a clean pair of boxers from your drawer, stepping into them carefully. The fabric stretches slightly as your cock settles against your hip, still sensitive from your recent cleaning. You adjust yourself with a quiet groan, fingers tracing the outline beneath the material before letting go.

The ache doesn't fade—if anything, it persists, a low pulse of need in your lower body. You glance down at yourself, wondering at the difference. You've always been easily aroused, but this is... more intense. Your nipples feel tight beneath your shirt, and every small movement sends little shivers through your body.

You make your way downstairs, noticing the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Your step mother must already be awake.