Rickety Craig - a homeless junkie, irresponsible beyond belief

You take a firm step over to the side of the walkway. Your hands clasping locks of your new ginger hair.

What the fuck happened? How did I get here? Was I high last night?

You remember going to sleep with the gang under the overpass last night - but you didn't smoke any PCP. You're certain about that.

You look down at your breast inquisitively and slowly raise your hands up to meet them.

This feels real.

You cup them in your hands and give them a light squeeze. You feel a pleasant twinge in your groin. You give them a harder squeeze - the sensation is a bit more intense. You slowly creep your hand down your pants.

It's gone. No... WHAT. What the fuck this?

You slide a slender finger across the lips of your pussy and shudder.

I'm a chick? No. Fuck. I need a mirror.

You catch the reflection of yourself in a store window: a pretty young woman with long red hair, grey-green eyes, freckles... Your eyes drift down to the rest of your body: you have a nice set of breasts, long legs, cleans clothes - everything Rickety Craig was missing in his miserable life.

"I'm stacked!" you exclaim, your hands dart from your breasts to your mouth. "My voice..."

You look back to yourself. This woman is gorgeous. Could this truly be you? You regain some situational awareness - you're standing in front of the window of Seven-Eleven. You decide to use their restroom.

They let you in without a problem - that rarely happens.

Inside you see the gorgeous woman in perfect detail. You raise a hand and place it on the mirror - just to be certain this is indeed "Rickety Craig."

After a brief moment of shock, you hastily undress. Clothes are strewn everywhere - bra flying into the toilet, panties into the garbage, shirt on the cistern.

You look at your naked form and smile, hands groping your new breasts.

"Fuckin' tits!" you exclaim in your new feminine voice, "Sheeza fuckin' sex pot."

You notice the cross around her neck.

"Shit dun work girl." You throw the necklace into the toilet.

You gaze returns to the mirror and sly grin forms on your pretty new face. Leaning into the mirror you kiss your reflection.

Fuck this chick is hot.

Your hand toward your pussy and you start to play with your soppy labia. You plunge a finger inside and moan.

I think she likes it. Ha.

You prop a leg onto the toilet so you can better inspect the goods. With your legs spread, you start to play with the lips of your pussy. Satisfied with this new geography, you plunge two, then three, of your slender fingers inside and pump vigorously.

"Yes, ya, ya, ugh, ya bitch." You moan in stark contrast to your femininity. "Ya, fuck me. Bitch."

You moan with deep and guttural satisfaction as an orgasm wash over your body. The pleasurable haze slowly recedes and you take your fingers out of your pussy and give them a furtive lick.

Tastes good. You laugh.

You redress in your shirt and shorts and leave the restroom. You strut out of the store in a blissful delirium, ignoring shocked glances of the clientele, clearly aware of your little experiment.