Some Personal TLC [Auto Fellatio, Breast Expansion]

With a firm but pleasant grip on her cock, as though she needed to be sure she couldn't lose it or let it attempt to deflate, John, stands and looks to the full length mirror across her room from her. Fuck, she was hot. As her changes took shape she figured she would end up looking somewhat like a younger version of her mother, and an older version of her sister... with a penis, of course. What she wasn't expecting was for the definition and tone she had applied to her previously male physique to not just remain (which she worried would have made her appear grotesque), but to seamlessly shift to a feminine equivalent. Toned enough to hint at definition, but not quite enough to start syphoning from delicate femininity, and with strength beyond what her looks would suggest. Woman train, and suffer endless fad diets for years on end only dreaming to come close possess looks like this.

The subtle but present definition in the curves delineating shoulder to bicep to forearm to hands... which currently fondle a penis that is large even by the standards set by porn. Slowly she decides to release the heat she has been stoking, moving those delicate velvet hands ever so gently along her manhood.

The way her pectorals invisibly sit behind her C-cup tear drops giving them a firm perkiness to their jiggles and bounces. Tits which her left hand ascends to, **** to grope and fondle, leaving behind her churning chicken egg sized testes to drop and swing with her accelerating pumps.

Beneath her tits her waist is tight and twisting to the rhythm of her quiet primal grunting pole dance. her curves, thin appearing almost as if synched in by an invisible corset. Tiny curves that frame, so nicely, the contours that are her ever so seductive though faint traces of abs. Abs which so slightly revel themselves further through a glistening sweat sheened stomach as John continues to edge ever closer to release.

Ever,
Closer.

Building a
Familiar
Pleasure.

UNITL

...

release...
With a groan and a short two or three convulsions, she erupts with four or five absolute ropes of hot, viscous cum in the direction of the mirror. Her release, though, falls short, instead painting a splattering upon the pile of dirty clothes that lays in the 10 feet between her and the mirror.

"Huff, that was... pretty good," John sighs to herself still catching her breath. Then pondering over the puddles slowly beginning to seep into her old clothes she posits, "that must have been twice any of my previous loads..."

"Um actually. Master is like four times as like generous as compared to her default setting," The ever present AI assistant corrects.

"Mmm," is all John could sound in response, biting her lower lip, her gaze still fixated upon her recent release. With a curiosity new to her, likely from a combination of her new biology mixed with a haze from the beginning stages of getting drunk on pleasure, she slowly pulls her hand up along the length of her deflating appendage ensuring that she catches the dredges that remain clinging to her from her latest load. The sticky semi-fluid is rapidly cooling as she brings it close to her hungry gaze. It exudes a pungent but, to John, not unpleasant musk which only compounds her curiosity further.

With movements that would look to anyone watching as either hesitation or savoring the moment, but in reality was a combination of the two, John brings the cum caked digit to her lips looks into the visage of the image of her mirroring the actions from the opposite side of the room, and leaning seductively into a pose, presses the pseudo phallus between her lips. She sucks from it the coating she had released into the world, and finds the taste... pleasant.

At that moment a thought formulated into John's mind that most boys going through puberty have at some point. Then a memory of the failed attempt in the shower to fold herself as a boy when she was *age redacted* and she immediately throws open her stats panel again. Searching for the stat the defines her flexibility, she throws the attribute slider to the right, its absolute natural maximum, and hits apply. There is a pop in each of her joints, including those she didn't even know existed, and with curiosity and ease she bends over backwards before pushing her face out from between her legs from behind (luckily avoiding her room's sparse furniture).

"Hello sailor," she exclaims as she thrust he cognitive head toward her sexual one, as it still pulses in the process of becoming limp, "sorry but can't have you quite finished yet."

With that she stands back up, and flipping to her sexual attributes adjusts her male genitalia to have only about a minute long refractory period, she didn't want to get stuck in an endless loop of orgasms. Hitting apply she has yet another idea. Flipping back to the physical traits of her stats sheet, John searched for breast size, and thinking that she could give herself the the BJ nearly every pubescent boy has fantasized of, or attempted, she could one up it with tits they could never fathom. Sliding her mark on the scale slightly up she set a delay application, and a duration over which the application should take effect so that she could experience the growth and prolong the pleasure it granted. Then, feeling the beast that was between her legs, she thought to other needs and flipping to a setting denoting gag reflex slammed the setting to 0%, before hitting apply and doing an acrobatic maneuver she would have never excepted to be able to perform before, flipping backwards onto her bed with two steps.

Upon something which she can recline, John takes the position and folding herself slightly, she kisses the pink tip of her exhausted phallus. A throb pulses to it, signifying the resurgence of its vitality, exciting the folded futanari as she rolls over to position her penis between her, currently, reasonably sized breasts. A hand on each tit, focusing its shape and form, she hugs her male appendage before finding its tip once more, this time growing more solid and protruding from betwixt her breasts. Without hesitation she thrusts her head forward, swallowing the head and as much of the shaft she is allowed as her engorgement is slower than desired. She begins slobbering upon it as she begins to come to a full erection, her newly anointed flexibility insuring that she never lose the perfect center between her still C-cup breasts. Moments later though, her other change begins taking hold as her breast start to bulge. This was the moment, as every surge that was but a fraction of an inch was an enchanting burst of lustful energy.

It was an in pull...

out pull...

a rumble of shifting flesh as new boundaries adjusted.

and another in pull...

out pull...

With the only thing certain being that she wasn't going to stop, she wasn't going to surrender until she had reach her absolute limit masculine or feminine.

It was an internal struggle. To face fuck herself without a care in the world except to breed, and to be face fucked wanting nothing more but the scepter presenting judgment to never stop.

Minutes.

Hours.

John couldn't know exactly how long it took, before finally *guck* her own load forces its way upon her throat.
She is taken for a moment by the savourable taste that lingers on her tongue, as she gasps for air.

Unfolding, as she has twisted into a position the world's most distinct contortionists would be proud of she looks into her mirror, the revealer of truth. In it she sees only what she expected. Her air has shifted, with her body as it was before but with the expansion of impossible an H-cup set of tits with an under bust of 32 inches and over-bust of just under 42. If she desired herself before she could see herself absolutely ravenous of what she has become...