Of The Level

He awakes suddenly from a strange dream, that he was sure was trying to tell him something. Perhaps it pertains to the future, for it certaintly aligned with goals he had already set for himself.

Complete and total isolation, being one of them, so that he could contemplate alone without obstruction and advance himself in ways no one had done before. Think of it like superman isolating himself in his fortress developing to the point that he removed all mental barriers that otherwise prevented him from accessing his full potential, and, uh, that perculiar desire of his, though it may not be accurate to suggest such.

More precisely, it wasnt merely just an emotion, he thought, and be sure to secure the hatches when such occurs, that the next stage in human evolution would result in his form and all other male forms, including the female, feminizing.

Yes, he had dreamt himself a being with moderate hips, more pronounced on all accounts then that of a male yet, not quite as comparable to that of a regular human female interms of bone structure, a creature with a large cock and male chest to boot, yet, his feminine face, was poured from the richest darkest molasses nature could concoct.

Dark brown skin, thick full lips, a small curved nose and dark eyes that pierced into the mind and tore back layer after layer of defences until what lay beneath were vibrating frequencies, holding volumes of past life experiences.

He particularly took comfort in his afrocentric ponytail, and curvy legs and overall form. How his perspective seemed for the briefest of moments during the rain, to appear just far enough behind as to discern the round curviture of his ass, sporadically revealing itself, clad in a red spaghetti strapped dress-skirt at the mercy of the wind.

The more he thought about it the more pleased he became. Another vivid dream, yes, to think all it took was **** levels of thought. Which reminded him...

He opened his eyes, layed out on the blue carpet of his room, a dark brown wooden bed frame directly right to him, a desk and chair to his left and...as he appeared ahead of his supine position, a door flanked on its right by a dresser against the adjacent wall, closed, unusually and the space following its contours, lit with yellow, while his room was still damp with dawn.

Then the sound of running water slowly came to his attention. His senses peaking, his heartrate increasing momentarily. It sounded as if someone was using his shower.

Even a faint voice could be discerned humming some rhytmic tune.