Weiss Schnee TG
Writeguy May 21st, 2019 (edited) 66 Never
Not a member of Pastebin yet? Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features!
- WARNING! CONTAINS NUDITY AND SEXUAL THEMES!
- John woke up feeling stiff and cold. Last night he had some strange dreams, and wondered if maybe he had slept crooked and that was the cause. He got up slowly and stretched, groaning as he felt the pain in his muscles and joints. He hadn't been this sore since the first day of football camp back in middle school. He smiled thinking about those times. He didn't much talent for sports but he had fun playing with his friends. Plus, it was nice being able to tell people you were an athlete and getting special attention and perks. Anyways, it had been quite a few years since he had even put on a uniform and he was aware he had gotten somewhat out of shape, but it was nothing to the level where he should be aching all over just from sleeping awkwardly. John turned his stiff neck and looked outside his window. There was at least 3 feet of snow outside and more was coming down. It looked like the weather had taken a turn for the worse overnight. No wonder he felt cold and stiff: there was a snowstorm outside, and he was only in his boxers without the heat turned up! He headed over to his thermostat and cranked it up to a balmy 72 degrees, though that warm number didn't do much to comfort him when he knew that it would be at least an hour before the house began to get to that temperature.
- Pushing the weather to the back of his mind, he started his morning routine, though he decided to skip his usual wake-up fap. It was cold enough that his dick had shriveled up into a pitiful state and he didn't feel like putting in the effort in to get it up. He stiffly walked to the bathroom then leaned into his shower to turn it on full-blast. He gave the water a few seconds to warm up as he took off his boxers. He stepped inside and almost immediately he regretted his decision. The water had barely warmed up at all and it felt like ice on his skin. John let out a very un-manly shriek and leapt to the side to avoid the stream of freezing water. He stood shivering in the corner of his shower in misery as he bemoaned his rotten luck, the cold, his house's antiquated water heater, and the world in general.
- After a minute or so he tentatively stuck out a hand and tested the water. It was lukewarm and it didn't look like it would get hotter anytime soon so he sucked it up and got underneath the stream. He lathered his hair with soap, noticing that it felt pretty shaggy. It had been a while since he last got a haircut, but he wasn't going in to town in this weather to get a trim. He washed the rest of his body quickly and got back out.
- Still dripping wet from the shower and without a towel even wrapped around his waist he headed to the sink to shave off his stubble. He normally ignored his facial hair, but it had been several days since he last shaved. He had the safety razor in one hand and a dollop of shaving cream in the other and was about to start when he looked at himself in the mirror. He was surprised to find only the faintest hint of peach fuzz on his face. He shrugged and attributed the lack of facial hair to the cold weather and hormones and the mysteries of the universe. Whatever; it was less work for him to do to take care of himself. He combed his hair (though combed was too polite of a word for the rough styling he did with an old and beaten hairbrush). As John matted his hair down with brute force he caught sight of something on top of his head that glimmered in the bathroom lighting. He leaned in and noticed to his dismay that he had several strands of snow-white hair that stood out like a sore thumb against his black hair. He knew that the men in his family had a history of balding early, but they usually didn't show signs of losing hair until they were in their 30's. He was still in his early 20's and thoughts of a life of being bald at 30 flashed through his mind. He calmed down by reminding himself that only the color had changed and that he still had a head full of hair, or at least he tried to. John had never prided himself in his appearance (he thought that he was only average) but seeing strands of white hair isn't anything a person fresh out of college wants to see. He resolved to take better care of his hair starting tomorrow, but he had a nagging urge to do something about it now. He went to his sister's room and came back with her expensive salon hair care products and soap and stepped back into the shower.
- He spent several minutes thoroughly washing his hair with shampoo and conditioner that the bottles said were infused with oils he didn't know how to pronounce. As he washed his hair he noticed how good it felt to be taking care of his hair after years of neglect and use of body wash on his scalp. He rinsed and then used a foaming body wash all over. He got out, noticing the new luster of his hair and the faint sweet mint smell from the shampoo and conditioner. He looked in the mirror again and properly combed his hair and was satisfied with the results. He thought he noticed white hairs that he didn't see before, but he chalked it up to paranoia. There was no way that someone could gray more in a matter of minutes. Even that one time he bleached his hair during his rebellious high-school years it took 30 minutes, and even then it came out more of a light blonde than a desaturated white. Anyways, John was pretty pleased with himself for his personal grooming regimen, even though he had used women's beauty products. Despite the products he had just used he was feeling a bit more handsome than usual this morning and he left the bathroom in a good mood. He threw on a pair of boxers, thought for a second, and then put on an undershirt as well. It was probably going to be still cold downstairs, and even though he was home alone, he felt it was a bit much to make breakfast in nothing but his underwear. Feeling particularly well-dressed even though he was wearing next to nothing, he headed downstairs to make himself some food.
- John was making himself 4 scrambled eggs with cheese as he idly listened to the weather report on the radio. Apparently this blizzard had come out of nowhere, engulfing most of the area in several feet of snow. Schools were shut down, but John was a few years too late to be excited by that news. As he cooked he started to hum to himself but stopped after a few seconds. He didn't know what song he had been thinking of, but it sounded a bit... poppy. Dumping the skillet of eggs on a plate, he shrugged and decided it must have been from an anime he watched recently.
- John quickly ate up and decided what to do for the rest of the day as he put his plate in the sink to do at some point in the week. He went back up to his room and booted up his computer and decided to play some video games. He stared at his game library of more than 400 games for a minute or two but couldn't settle on a single one, so he just picked one that was already installed at random. His mouse landed on... Far Cry 3. John thought it was a little weird to be playing a game that took place in a tropical Pacific island chain while there was a blizzard roaring outside, but he was down to play it for a few hours. He started a new game and breezed through the unskippable intro and the first few missions, but he was losing focus and started making silly mistakes that kept killing him. He was getting increasingly frustrated and soon was having issues with just the basic controls. He hadn't seen anyone be this bad at a first-person shooter since he tried to get his sister to play Halo a few years back. She had spent the 5 minutes playing mostly looking at the ground and shooting herself in the foot before she gave up in disgust and called video games stupid. John soon quit playing and decided to do something else. He looked at his watch and noticed that 2 hours had passed, and now that he was out of the game he realized that his back was aching. He knew he had bad posture and it looked like now was the time that his years of slouching caught up to him.
- He got up for his well-worn chair with a groan. His back was really hurting, like he had lifted something heavy the wrong way. With one hand on his lower back like an enfeebled old man, he felt the notches on his spine. They hurt to touch and seemed to be sticking out uncomfortably far, as if his spine was misaligned with his back muscles. He leaned backwards with all his strength as he pushed against his spine. It felt more comfortable doing that than standing up regularly but it wasn't enough to relieve his pain. In an ill-advised move, he made a fist and pounded on his back. He immediately heard a popping sound from his spine, and the densest bundle of nerves in his body went into overdrive sending pain signals to his brain. He cried out in pain and his vision grew blurry and white. He nearly collapsed on his carpet, but he just barely managed to stay upright by flailing his spare hand forward and leaning in on his desk, though he knocked his mouse and keyboard off as his hand shot forwards. If his back wasn't screaming in agony right now he would definitely have felt his knuckles and fingers bruise as they slammed against the desk.
- He leaned on the desk as he breathed heavily and tears streamed down his face. After a few seconds the pain in his back subsided and almost completely disappeared (though now he could feel that his hand that had hit the desk hurt like hell). He breathed a sigh of relief at his back somehow fixing itself, but he vowed to visit a chiropractor (not one of those quack ones, but one who actually had a medical degree) as soon as this blizzard cleared up. This episode was a clear reminder that he really should start taking care of himself. He really wanted to lie back down after going through this ordeal, but he needed to fix up his hand first. He walked to the downstairs restroom where the medical supplies were kept and pulled out some cold packs and bandages from underneath the sink. He was about to apply them to his hand when he dropped them in shock.
- His left hand, the one that banged against the desk and hurt so much that he thought he must have broken something, looked completely fine. In fact, it looked pristine. There wasn't a trace of any of the scars or callouses he had built up over the years. There also wasn't a single strand of hair on the back of it. John quizzically poked and prodded his hand, grimacing through the pain as he did so. If he didn't look at both of his hands at the same time, he probably would have assumed that he got off lucky with just some internal bruising that hadn't manifested yet; however, he was able to compare and contrast both his left and right hand at the same time, and what he saw confused and terrified him.
- First, his left hand did not look like a chiral image of his right like it should have. The palm shape was completely wrong, and the skin on his left was far fairer than it was on the right. John was about to comment on these differences when the flesh on both his hands began to ripple and he the bones in his fingers creak and strain. The pain was excruciating, but John was able to notice that his right hand was now hurting far more than his left. With morbid fascination (or fear; John really wasn't sure what he was feeling right now) he watched as the dissimilarities between his hands corrected itself as his right hand changed to match his left. When his hands were identical to each other, he twisted his wrists around and studied his hands like they were alien appendages. Before he could do more than give his hands a cursory glance, the pain came back stronger than ever, and both his hands changed again. They shrank and grew even paler in complexion, and his fingers grew long and delicate as they thinned. It felt like his fingers were being ripped from his knuckles as his nails slowly grew out. His gaze remained transfixed at the end of his digits throughout all of this; he was unable to turn away from the grotesque sight. And then, as quickly as it had begun, the changes finished. Though the process had lasted just under a minute, the pain made it feel as though it lasted much longer. John waited a few more seconds as he prayed that his hands weren't going to turn into bird talons or something even worse. Reasonably reassured that his hands had finished their changes, he surveyed how bad those changes actually were.
- To his surprise, his hands, despite not looking like his hands anymore per se, were fully functioning. He could fully flex them and there was only the faint lingering of the pain he had felt only a few minutes ago. John was relieved that his hands still worked, even if they looked like a girl's. Still, what he saw happen to them wasn't normal. He contemplated calling 911 to go to the hospital but then thought better of it. There was a fierce snowstorm outside and the snow was so deep that they'd probably have to use a helicopter. He was scared about what was happening to him but he wasn't ready to spend several thousand dollars on emergency fees when it didn't look life-threatening. A cooler head prevailed and he went back to his room and spent a few seconds picking up the mess around his computer and putting his peripherals back on the desk.
- He sat down in his chair, noticing that his posture was much better now, and as such the adjustments on the chair felt uncomfortable. He ignored it and brought up an online medical diagnostic site. Typing with these hands of his felt... weird, to say the least, but he was able to eventually put in the proper URL after plenty of errors. He pulled up an absolutely enormous list of symptoms to choose from, but nowhere on it did he see "hands turning feminine through unknown means." He sighed and gave a little pout. Whatever was happening to him was probably outside the realm of current medical science. He was hesitant to call it magic but that was looking like the easiest explanation.
- Normally, he would have sat at his computer and searched the web like mad to find out what was going on, but he felt like it'd be more constructive to pace around his room and think deeply about the issue. He was doing just that when he tripped out of his slippers. He managed to throw himself on his bed just as the changes that affected his hands began to happen to his feet. The pain was intense, but knowing that it was coming somehow made it easier for John to bear it. When he looked at his feet after they were done changing, he saw that they looked dainty and delicate, just like his hands now did. He tried fitting them back into his slippers but they were way too small to stay in. He didn't want to walk around barefoot with the chilly weather outside, so he barged into his sister's room and stole a pair of her socks. He briefly contemplated wearing a hot pink pair that she hadn't packed for her trip, but he almost immediately rejected the idea and settled on white ankle socks that much to his chagrin fit perfectly.
- Before leaving his sister's room, he took a brief look in her vanity mirror. He did not like what he saw. He looked somewhat androgynous, and almost all of his muscle mass that was left over from his athletic days had withered away throughout the day. He flexed a bicep and was rewarded with almost no muscle showing. Speaking of his arms and legs, they were completely hairless, like they had gotten a very close shave. He rubbed a hand up and down his thigh, noticing that they were a bit plumper than they had been this morning. The alien sensation of a hand that wasn't really his running across skin that wasn't really his creeped John out. He felt some faint creaking in his torso that soon turned painful. Resigned to whatever was about to happen to him, he looked at himself in the mirror, pretty curious to see what the changes would look like. His heart was beating like a jackhammer, mostly from fear, but at least partially from anticipation. The tension in his collarbone vanished and in a snap his shoulders caved in. John had to stifle a cry of pain as his ribcage shrank to match his smaller frame. He was forced to exhale as his bones and cartilage squeezed down on his lungs, but soon they too mercifully shrank and fit inside his smaller ribcage.
- This round of changes finished, John took another look at himself in the mirror. If he had looked somewhat androgynous before, he looked completely that way now. He was staring at his own body but even John had to take a few seconds to determine that the reflection he was looking at was still male, especially given the posture he was taking while standing. A brief wave of panic surged over John as he hurriedly checked his privates. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed that everything was still there, though they had shrunk a bit along with the rest of his body.
- "Thank God," he voiced, but his eyes soon grew wide in shock. He sounded like he hadn't hit puberty yet and even those short two syllables made his voice embarrassingly crack. He briefly tested his voice by singing the alphabet, and to his relief he was able to sound like his old self when he focused. He had some trouble with "h" sounds, but for the most part it wasn't that bad. It wasn't like he had to talk to anyone anyways, so he could just ignore that change. Just as he thought this, the phone in his boxer's pocket began to ring. He checked the ID and saw that it was his mom. He groaned and brought the phone up to his ear to answer the call.
- "Hey sweetie, how are you doing?" his mom started off.
- "I'm good," he answered. "I'm just sitting here at home freezing my bottom off." He was able to fake his old voice, but it still sounded slightly off. John hoped that it wouldn't translate into something someone would pick up on over the phone.
- "Are you alright? You sound a bit stuffed." Leave it to a mom to notice when something's up.
- "Yeah, yeah, it's just a little bit of a runny nose from the cold."
- "Well, make sure you take proper care of it. You don't want to get sick at this time of year. Carol, one of my friends from the garden club, was feeling fit as a fiddle last December, but she got a cold, and because she tried to power through it she had to go to the hospital. Turns out that cold was actually bronchitis! Anyways, make sure to get plenty of rest."
- "Sure," John replied. When his mom got into her rant mode, it was best to let her go on and give short replies. Trying to interrupt her only made her start a rant on a new topic, and if you showed interest in what she was telling you she'd never stop talking.
- John and his mom checked in with each other. His family's flight had just barely taken off when the blizzard started to hit. Luckily they all made it safely to their hotel in Spain, and the weather was much milder there. His mom went on about all the tourist hotspots she was planning to see tomorrow, and after a while she put his dad and his sister on. He and his dad exchanged short words, and he did likewise with his sister, though they did banter a little bit before they said goodbye and hung up.
- After the call ended, the tension in John's (newly slimmed) shoulders eased up and he breathed a sigh of relief. Changing his voice was much harder than he thought it'd be. His throat was sore, so he went downstairs to get something to drink. He was going to take a swig from the milk gallon in the fridge, but then thought better of it and poured himself a glass. He slowly sipped it and when he was finished he placed it in the sink to wash at a later indeterminate date.
- John glanced at his watch and saw that it was only 3 PM. He still had a the afternoon to kill, so he decided to sit down and watch some anime. He put on the season's typical harem ecchi comedy and was enjoying himself, as well as the women in the show. They were all pretty hot, and he couldn't wait for the next comic event for doujins about the anime to roll out. Just thinking about porn was turning him on, so he paused his anime to browse hentai on the web. Normally he would have defaulted to his standard tags that would lead him to girls with dynamite bodies, but he was in the mood for tomboys and reverse traps instead. He couldn't get the thought of a girl pretending to be a guy out of his head. After a few minutes he had built up a few good images, so he decided to start fapping.
- As soon as his hand touched his dick he noticed three things he didn't take into account: his hands were cold and they were smaller, and so was his dick. Still, despite the obstacles presented he was able to get it up relatively quickly, especially given the cold. His strokes were almost ticklish. He was touching himself, yes, but he was using hands he was not at all familiar with. Deciding to mix it up a bit, he twisted his hand around. He was pleased to find that his wrists were more than flexible enough to keep up, and he started adding nimble movements like stroking his glans and twisting around slightly as he stroked. It felt damned good to be giving and receiving a handjob at the same time. While not the exact same, he was able to imagine that an attractive girl was cranking his shaft, instead of himself.
- It was now 30 minutes since he began fapping and John was the horniest he'd been since puberty. He was usually on a hair trigger and it didn't take much to make him come, but today he just couldn't stop edging, no matter how much he pushed. Another hour in and he was starting to get that urgent feeling to just get done with masturbating and come already. What he was doing still felt incredible, but his wrist and forearm were getting a bit sore. He mind started to wander, and in one of those moments that only seems to happen while masturbating, he began to wonder what it'd feel like to actually give a guy a handjob. He knew the best ways to tease a cock, and with these dainty hands of his, he was confident he'd be pretty good at it. He thought more about all the ways he'd tease someone's cock, and as he did his movements turned more dexterous. Whatever he had done to switch things up, it was working, and John felt himself building towards a climax after all this time. A few more strokes and he climaxed with the best orgasm he had had in years. He let out a rather embarrassing high-pitched moan as he came. The jizz seemed to endlessly spill out of his hand and onto his stomach; it felt like his balls were being sucked dry.
- After enjoying the afterglow for a few seconds, he got a tissue to wipe himself off with. He then went to the bathroom to wash his hands and clean himself up better. He took a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the androgynous face with a head full of shaggy white and black hair looking back at him. His jawline and Adam's apple had receded quite a bit, and his features were halfway between feminine and masculine. He dried his hands off while thinking about the situation. He couldn't really do anything to stop what was happening to him, so he might as well try to enjoy the ride. He was a little worried that the changes might be messing with his head (after all, he had those thoughts while jerking off earlier), but he was able to compartmentalize those thoughts as just one of those things that happens. After brushing his hair and cleaning up the sink, he downstairs to get something to eat. He really didn't feel like cooking but he was hungry and there was no way any food delivery could make it through this blizzard to his house.
- Rummaging around the pantry John was able to find a box of pasta. John was a bad cook but he could at least boil water and heat up sauce. A few minutes later he had a meal that while plain was edible. He wolfed it down quickly and burped at the end of his meal. Now no longer famished, he went back to his room to watch some more anime. He was on his fourth episode when he started to get tired. He stripped to his boxers and crawled under the covers. He hoped that when he woke up everything would be back to normal. He was able to fall asleep faster than normal, probably because he was so exhausted from the day.
- By the sound of his snoring, John was catching some serious Z's. His dreams weren't as strange (or prophetic) as they were last night, but they still weren't very normal. In his dream, he was taking a relaxing bubble bath, complete with aromatic candles. John found all of this pretty odd (he hadn't taken a bubble bath since he was a kid), but he was in that semi-lucid state where he partially understood he was dreaming but still went along with it. He relaxed in the tub, letting his shoulders sink under the bubbles. He was kind of enjoying the change of pace when the water felt like it was getting warmer. It soon turned boiling hot and to John's horror he couldn't get out of the tub. The water burnt his skin and when he couldn't bear it any more screamed.
- He woke up with a start. He was itching all over, like he had just taken a dive into a patch of poison ivy while nude. He desperately wanted to scratch himself but his arms weren't responding. Stuck in his sleep paralysis, he endured the discomfort for several minutes until it eventually subsided and he realized he had motor control again. He pulled back the sheets and saw his completely hairless chest. Somehow, he had shed all of his body hair. John pulled the elastic waistband from his boxers back. No, it wasn't all of his body hair. He still had his pubes, but even in the darkness of his room he could tell they were white and feathery now, a sharp contrast from the black jungle he usually sported. His head felt fuller now based on the ticklish sensations he felt on He grew anxious waiting for the next wave of changes that he knew were coming.
- He didn't have to wait long because soon his hips began to hurt like crazy. Mirroring the changes his shoulders had experienced, they snapped outwards with a crunch. John bit into his pillow to stifle his scream of pain as his eyes grew moist. The elastic from his waistband bit into his hips as they expanded to womanly proportions. He could feel his legs drifting apart from each other, creating a gap between his thighs. This was the first change that John was thankful for as his plumper thighs had been rubbing into each other as he walked and squeezing his balls when he sat. To his embarrassment he noticed that he had managed to come during this change, and his underwear was now soaked with his sexual juices.
- Whatever relief John had been feeling from this new change evaporated when he felt an intense pain shoot from his spine to his furthest extremities. It felt like he was being crushed alive from an unknown force acting on his entire body. He could deal with the pain and the rushing coldness that accompanied it (barely), but panic set in when he realized that his room looked like it was getting bigger, which meant he was shrinking! John wasn't the biggest guy around (which was part of the reason why he hadn't pursued his athletics further), but he was quickly growing dwarfish. He feared that his shrinking would never stop and that he'd fade away into nothing, but the changes eventually slowed their pace and eased his fear. When all was said and done he had lost nearly a foot in height. Lying on his back on top of his queen mattress, he felt small and vulnerable. He never realized his bed was this big. Hoping that he was done transforming into... whatever, he tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't find a comfortable position. Not the type of guy to flip his mattress, he awkwardly tried to fit into the indentation his old body had made in the bed over several years. Giving up, he rolled over to the part of his bed away from his nightstand in hopes of finding more comfort. As soon as his chest touched the bed he let out a painful groan which woke him up completely.
- He pulled the sheet off once again and turned on the light, wondering what was on the bed (besides the hairs he had shed) that would cause him so much pain just to touch. After his eyes adjusted to the brightness and he looked all over his bed, he happened to glance at his chest. He saw that his nipples had turned pinkish, grown to the size of half dollars, and were erect from the cold. Underneath his nipples there was a bit of swelling. John gingerly touched it, wincing as he felt how tender the flesh on his chest felt. Unnerved, but unable to do anything about it, he rolled back onto his back and tried desperately to sleep so that he wouldn't have to think about what he was turning into.
- Dawn announced itself with the sun streaming through his window. Despite his best efforts, he hadn't gotten an ounce of sleep after his new changes. Deciding to give up trying to go back to bed, he got up and instantly tripped over something and fell flat on his face. He looked behind his rather tiny and slender body to see what he had tripped on, and noticed that his boxers were in a pool around his ankles. The second he had gotten up they had slid right off his hips to the floor. He pulled them back up but they fell down again. This process repeated itself until in a huff he surrendered and held them up as he walked. Masculine pride is stubborn, and John wasn't quite ready to admit that his underwear didn't fit him anymore. He ignored where that thought lead to as he wandered over to the bathroom to take stock of his body and what was different on it. On the way, he tossed his cum-stained boxers in to the garbage can. Though he had been fine with wearing them a few seconds ago the thought of wearing his soiled underwear was now revolting to him.
- As soon as he walked in to the restroom and came within sight of the mirror John realized just how much he had changed. The biggest change he noticed right away was how small he looked. Where his belly button had once come above the lip of his sink, it was now a few inches below it. He looked for more changes and saw that his hair was snow white without a single strand of its old black color. He grabbed a fistful of the shoulder-length hair and examined how soft and silky it was. Looking at his face in the mirror he faintly recognized the reflection staring back at him, but he couldn't quite place who it reminded him of. He pushed the puzzle aside for now; whatever it was, he was sure he'd figure it out by the time he was done changing. He next examined his chest. Upon his slender frame the slightly swollen orbs underneath his engorged nipples reminded him of breasts, and that's what he supposed they were becoming. He didn't feel a need to feel his chest up; he already knew how tender his chest was to the touch and didn't want to retread that road.
- He headed over to the shower to wash up and examine the rest of his body when he felt a tingling along his back. He turned to the mirror and saw his hair grow down to his buttocks. While distracted by this new change he felt a sharp pain from his stomach. His knees buckled and he fell on his back. His small body was able to sprawl across the entirety of his small bathroom with room to spare. His legs thrashed about as he grabbed his stomach in agony and felt the flesh ripple as his organs reshaped themselves into something new. While his prostate disappeared and a uterus appeared in its place, his ass gained a noticeable layer of cushioning. His chest began to swell and pert B-cup slowly appeared, horrifying John just as much as they turned him on.
- His diminutive member was painfully erect as the changes to his organs simmered down. He was about to give his throbbing penis the attention it was craving when with a painful sucking like a vacuum his balls were sucked into his groin. John froze in terror as his testicles were sucked inside and compressed with great strength, causing John to scream. This was the change he knew had been coming, but he had been trying his best to not think about it. If this was the last time he was going to see his dick, he was going to try his damned best to get some use out of it. Spitting on his feminine hands to give himself some slight lubrication, he began stroking himself even through the concentrated pain that felt like a thousand hot knifes cutting into his groin as one of the densest bundles of nerves on his body went through its changes. After a minute of stroking himself, his dick was now too small to get a decent hold of, and he began twisting and rubbing the small nub it had become. During his ministrations he felt a flat spot along his groin that begged for attention. He began massaging the flat spot. As he applied more force as his arousal grew, the flat spot began to become concave and soon his rubbing was changed to thrusting.
- When the concavity fully linked up with the changes of his internal organs and a fully functional female reproductive system was formed, he felt a shock along his spine. The pleasure and pain that he had been feeling was previously concentrated along his groin, but now it spread out to his furthest extremities. His entire body felt like it was being ripped apart and washed with pleasure. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a towel from his messy bathroom floor and stuck it in his mouth. Not even a second later he bit down with enough force to make his gums hurt. If he hadn't stuck that wadding in he would have bitten off his tongue. As he was convulsing from a mixture of pain and pleasure, he arched his back and with a muffled scream he came. A lifetime of stored semen came from his husk of a penis as a slick fluid came from his new concavity, covering the floor. His mind blanked completely from the pleasure.
- John laid there twitching on the tile floor for a few long seconds, then slowly got up on unsteady legs. He slipped on the slick and musty sexual fluids he had just expelled when he tried to stand. His girly legs buckled out from underneath him as fell face-first into a spot of semen. Luckily he was fine outside of some smarting, but he was captivated by the smell of the semen, his semen. Like a maid examining how dusty a surface was, he rubbed a finger over the fluid and brought the slick finger underneath his nose. The musty salty scent was enough to send shivers down her spine. Still aroused from the recent ministrations, the newly minted girl began licking up every bit of semen she could find. The salty and bitter taste was out of this world and she wasn't going to let a drop of this go to waste, especially since this might be the last of it she would have access to for a while. After all, it's not like she could make more now. She gobbled up all the warm and sticky semen and sat on her knees on the floor with an expression of a cat that had just gotten the cream. A small trickle of the semen dribbled down her chin, and she eagerly scooped it up with her finger and sucked on her finger loudly and erotically. It was a shame that she couldn't have a real dick to suck on and that she had to settle for her imagination with her finger, she thought.
- Right then she paused and realized what she was doing, what she had done. She had just devoured his semen like it was the first meal he'd had in days and now he was sucking on his finger, imagining it was a dick. He spit the finger out of his mouth and scraped his tongue with his long nails, trying to get the taste out of his mouth, but it was to no avail. As he rushed towards the sink to wash his mouth out and brush his teeth for the rest of his life, he glanced at his reflection. When he stood in front of it his pouty face gained a shocked expression. It finally clicked. Staring back at him in the mirror was Weiss Schnee, the animated girl he'd had a crush on for years.
RAW Paste Data