The changes continue

When Don next awoke, he was certain that he had been in another accident. He lay in a hospital bed, groggy and aching all over. An IV line fed a steady supply of anaesthetics, but almost every inch of his body felt like it had been reduced to crushed gravel. His face was swollen and bandaged to the point that he could barely open his eyes and speech was an impossibility. His nose had been broken and reset, but even so it was difficult to really breathe.

There was also a strange weight on his chest that hadn’t been there before, but everything from the neck down was covered by a blanket that he felt too weak to lift. He also noticed that his hair was much longer, coming down to his shoulders and blanketing the pillow beneath his head. How long was I out? He wondered if he had fallen, taken a tumble down some stairs and gone into some kind of coma. But his face, as much as he could tell through the numbing anaesthetic and the bandaging, didn’t feel like it had a beard, or really any growth. In fact, the few bits of skin that were uncovered by bandages felt smooth, and unusually soft.

Marshalling his strength, he **** himself to sit up and pulled down the sheet covering his chest. Horror rose and up and swallowed him whole as he stared down at a pair of E cup breasts standing proudly on his chest, two mountains of silicone and sexuality that felt utterly alien on him. Beneath his bandaged and swollen face, Don screamed.

—

Crystal stood before the mirror and stared at the fruits of her labour. It had cost a fortune of Don’s money, an extensive amount of hormone therapy and several major surgeries to take the crude form of Don Connors and reshape into something that felt closer to her own idealised image. Lips were filled and made plump, Don’s jaw, his nose, cheekbones had been ‘corrected’ into something more feminine. A great set of tits ballooned out of her chest, her hips had been widened and her ass was coming along well. Laser treatments had removed every inch of body hair, and Don’s own militant haircut had been allowed to grow out into a blonde mane.

She grinned in triumph. Once again Crystal Minx was a sexbomb, one who would attract lusty eyes wherever she went. Though of course, with one major addition. Over the span of a year she had grown rather accustomed to having a dick and all the little pleasures she could coax from it. Pulling down her shorts, she began to tug and play with it and the tight little sack as she imagined getting railed in the ass by burly men, while she buried her cock as deep as she could into other girls. It would be the best of both worlds.

She took out her phone and began to record, grinning into the mirror. “Don, you’re gonna love the new you…”