Sex

The woman continues stripping… and was obviously prepared for this, as she has no underwear. That does, however, bring a big something to your attention….

“You’re trans?” You find yourself licking your lips.

“Not exactly…” the woman chuckles, “is there something else you want?” She smiles seductively.

“Shapeshifter,” the old man's voice in your head answers more fully, “The file said you needed sperm to revert, so we prepared a suitable scenario: Sperm from a woman. Your male mind gets to see bouncing boobies and soft curves while your female body gets what it wants too. Don't worry, she's currently sterile, and disease-free.”

“You’re beautiful…” you whisper, your hips rocking involuntarily as you spread your legs, the dripping hole between them aching to be filled.

The woman(?) obliges slowly, kissing her way up your leg, stopping to eat you out briefly, her tongue teasing even more desire out of you, then kissing her way up your stomach, then your breasts, stopping and sucking on a nipple, then squeezing her large, round orbs into yours as she slowly slides her massive meat member into your slick slot, stretching you out, and kisses you. It's too much, you shudder and moan into her woth just that one thrust, shaking as you're hit by an earthquake of pleasure in your middle that spreads to your extremities.

Then she starts thrusting.

She thrusts into you slowly at first, and the desire builds again, that anticipation of more driving you onwards as your hips squirm. She speeds up, those giant balls slapping against your butt as you lay on the examination bench as she takes you gently. Tenderly, she slips her arms behind your back, squeezing, slowly speeding her thrusts more and more, digging deep into your body. It's not long before you feel her tense up inside you, and with a final thrust she unloads inside, you feel her filling you up, pushing you iver the edge again. She keeps pumping, an impossibly large load, as she grunts and you scream.

You come down off the high panting, and the woman keeps holding you, her meat member still inside you. “Thank you,” you breathe out, and in again, “Umm… I can think now. Off please?”

The woman kisses you again and pulls out, getting off you and landing on her feet in the floor. You feel a wet flow between your legs, and sit up…

“That's an inhuman amount of spooge,” you blink at the volume.

“I'm a shapeshifter,” Catherine chuckles, “Why wouldn't I give myself super-productive balls? Don't worry, though, I'm sterile… currently. You're not going to have a child from this.” You notice she's still hard as she looks you over, “Hmm… care to go again?” She licks her lips.

“Not now, thank you…” you shake your head, “...too intense.”

“Suit yourself,” the woman shrugs, wiping herself off a little with paper towels by the sink, “and… you did agree, so I'm guessing I don't need to carry the dragon back?”

You raise your eyebrows, “That starts immediately?”

“Usually,” your momentary lover nods.

“Unless you have a reason to delay,” the voice in your head speaks up, “we can begin your therapy immediately, and you can tell her she can go.” You relay the message… and the woman leaves carrying her clothes, not bothering to dress.

You can feel a slight tension now as your body shifts back to male, explosively squeezing the remaining spunk from between your legs, “None of that, now…” the old man chides, “...relax. Thinking of it like another muscle isn't too far off. You're flexing it right now; let it lie still.”

You think about it, and take a slow, deep breath, looking for the tension within yourself, and letting it go… and your body shifts back into your female form, sitting in a large puddle of milky, sticky liquid.

“Great!” The doc seems pleased, “Tell me: What powers do you want? We'll need to know to figure out which items to pull from the armory.”

You pause, “Armory?”

“Oh yes,” the ring chuckles, “I'm an artificer. I teach powers by way of building magical items that use the user's own magic, and work the user's soul through the motions needed to make it. It's inherently inefficient, but that's not actually a problem: Part of the point is the exercise. Of course, as the magic items are no longer needed once the intended user can just do the thing, I have a vault with a build-up of magic items… also, I make more for my own exercise.”

You pause, “So you're telling me you have a vault full of super gear?”

The doc pauses, “Yes.”

“Aren't you worried about someone stealing it all?” You consider, “...because that sounds like something that could equip an army.”

“Well…” he considers, “...it's a possibility, but it's an unlikely one. First off, they're inefficient, as noted. Anyone who can use them already has magic, and can do better than what they provide. Second, the gear all requires a fair amount of magic to use: In training, I supply whatever the trainee can't - without me, a member of the general populace simply can't use the stuff. Sure, they have the capacity to store a charge, but we keep them drained due to the problems inherent in sharing magic. Third… what, you think my vault doesn't have defenses?”

“Sharing magic?” You consider, “How's it a problem?”

“Magic is produced by the soul,” the ring answers slowly, “it carries a signature of sorts from the originator. If you end up using someone else's magic, you get some of the flavor in you. In minor cases, that can result in small mood swings and minor dreams from the memory of the person who provided the magic. In severe cases, the end user risks unexpected triggers for severe emotions and erosion of identity. It gets worse with more ‘donors,’ better if the magic involved doesn't actually touch the user.”

“So don't use someone else's store, got it,” you nod.

“Anyway:” the doc pauses, “So what super power do you want?”