A Gender Swap Mega Bundle 6

by Gregor Daniels

  “Hey, you think you can find where I want you to go next?”

  Harold went straight for his entrance. His strongest sense was smell, Abdul figured. He might’ve not been able to see where he was going, but he somehow knew what was around him, and Abdul’s pussy was releasing quite a strong aroma at the moment. Harold worked his awkward body toward the source of the sweet scent and poked his head at the entrance. He was able to just get the tip in before Abdul helped him the rest of the way. Five of his eight inches disappeared into the wet tunnel.

  Abdul rolled his head back and moaned. “Oh! Harold, you knew … exactly what I wanted.”

  Of course he did. Abdul and Harold were linked from birth to the very end, one and the same despite being detached. And dicks overall had simple needs anyway. Harold was a living reproductive organ. His only purpose was to spread his seed. When he wasn’t being used for sex, he was eating to stay alive, breathing to prolong his life on this planet so he could spread his seed as much as possible. That was the fundamental instinct of any animal. Now Abdul had the compatible parts.

  Across the hall, Veronica continued to moan and squeal. All the musical sounds of sex. Abdul listened. He envied her in a way. Veronica could find attraction in a man and surrender her body. He thought of this as he fucked himself with Harold, filling his tight pussy over and over again. Abdul wasn’t a woman, but he wasn’t a man anymore. Not completely. He could tell himself that he was over and over, but no one would see him as a man. He had the tits. He had the pussy. Everyone would look at him from head to toe and see only a girl. And right now that girl was fucking herself with an eight-inch sentient cock.

  Unlike his ass, Abdul’s pussy was meant to take a cock. Every time it slid into him, his whole body exploded with pleasure. He played with each of his tits, grasping them hard as each thrust into his warm hole shoved his body backward, causing them to jiggle. He loved that feeling. Harold continued to throb as if his life depended on it. Abdul even let go of him when most of his fat body was buried inside the slit. Harold tried to burrow himself deeper by wiggling back and forth. It wasn’t very effective, but it got a laugh out of Abdul.

  “You’re so silly. Let me help you with that.”

  It hurt to push him in real deep. Abdul’s pussy was designed for average cocks, and Harold was a little bigger than that. Yet, he kept trying. He’d continuously slam him in harder, force him deep until the pain struck. Then out and back in again. Finally Abdul was able to get him so far into his wet hole that only Harold’s testicles remained outside. He cried out in pleasure as his toes curled into the sheets. There was nothing like being filled to the brim with Harold.

  Harold never complained. He was always the silent gentlemen. Even when Abdul got onto his knees and bounced on top of him, Harold remained as hard as ever, eager for the ride. He got to fuck Abdul from behind, too. Sometimes Abdul would feel Harold’s tiny lips moving inside him. His little friend was drinking up his pussy juice, no doubt, swallowing whatever touched his lips. And there was definitely plenty to go around. All of Abdul’s fingers were sticky with it.

  The longer they went, Abdul wanted more. He buried his face into the pillow, sticking his ass straight into the air. The moans were coming out with only short pauses in between to catch his breath. Harold was the thickest he had ever been, widening to stretch Abdul’s pussy so tight that it became increasingly difficult to move him in and out. But it was all pleasurable—the fullness, the friction, rubbing his tender clit, everything.

  And then friendly Harold gave Abdul his one gift of release.

  Abdul felt it filling his pussy, one spurt after the other. But he was already full with cock, so it oozed out over his crotch. And it kept coming, dribbling down his vulva and all down his hands. He pumped Harold a few more times into his cunt, and more of it splashed out. Harold’s huge load. And it was tasty, too. Abdul licked up as much as he could before giving Harold himself a sloppy kiss right on his rosy pink head.

  “Thanks, Harold. You’re the bestest friend I could ever have.”

  Two years later …

  Abdul watched from the window. The final moving truck motored away. With that came a sigh of relief. The last several months had been exhausting, but it was great to have his own place to call home again. It wasn’t a large house—one bedroom, one bath—but it was his. A fixer-upper purchased for a low price. And not far from work, either. The long hours as a waitress had finally paid off, and all the tips were welcome, too. Customers always paid good tips to women expecting.

  Abdul waddled past the stacks and stacks of boxes. Veronica and Jeff had helped him with those. The moving crew took care of all the heavy stuff, including some new furniture purchased at the store. He gazed into the full length mirror, observing the changes to his body, especially the round bulge of his pregnant belly.

  Harold was on the dresser. Abdul petted him. “Finally glad to be done with the moving part? I bet so. Now we just gotta figure out where to put all this stuff.” He slipped his hands under his massive belly to help support it. It didn’t take much time standing before it really started to pull on his back. “Another day, then. It’s only afternoon, but I’m too tired.”

  Abdul did take out one particular item—the wedding photo. He placed it on the dresser next to Harold. Abdul couldn’t believe the smiling girl in the picture was actually him. Veronica’s wedding dress had fit him perfectly, and Harold looked absolutely handsome in his custom-made tux. They were the picturesque pair.

  “I can’t believe all that’s happened,” Abdul told his little husband. “Now it’s just you and me. You wanna have some fun?”

  Harold began to grow.

  ###

  House of Alteration: No Vacancy

  A black limousine made the hard right turn underneath the bright, flashing letters of the Copper Discount Motel. It came to a stop near the main office, and a man rushed from the driver’s seat and opened up an umbrella over the rear passenger door as an older woman stepped out. The desert was known for its long stretches of sunlight with intermittent showers to drench the thirsty soil, but neither one of them had ever seen a storm like this one. Thunder boomed in the distance, bolts of lightning flashed overhead, and the two hurried through the front doors.

  “Welcome to the Copper Discount Motel in the heart of The Copper State,” announced a bubblegum-chewing young woman behind the front desk. Her eyes were glued to a comic book. “We accept cash or credit.” Behind her, a radio was blaring Johnny Cash. He was just about to tell the latest customers about a burning ring of fire until a lightning flash on the horizon replaced the tunes with nonstop static. Thunder arrived a few seconds later.

  “One room for tonight,” Nate said, pulling out his wallet. According to the sign next to a stack of neatly folded road maps, the price was ninety-nine dollars with a ten percent discount for those that stayed an extra night. He grabbed five twenties and laid them on the desk.

  “Your best room,” Linda added. “Preferably the cleanest.” She glanced down at a dark splotch on the tile floor and promptly tightened her velvet wrist-length gloves.

  The girl behind the desk stuffed the money into a cash register and grabbed a key from the wall. Room 108. “Enjoy your night. And stay dry.” She went back to reading the comic book.

  The room was a short walk from the main office, and Nate held the umbrella steady over Linda as they followed the sheltered path along the row of rooms. After she was safe from the torrential downpour, he returned to the limousine and drove it into a parking spot.

  He returned to room 108 to find Linda standing where he had last left her—two steps away from the front door. “Look at this room, Nate,” she said. “It’s filthy. I bet the sheets are infested with bugs. They probably don’t have a proper cleaning crew. How many stars did this place have?”

  Nate pulled out his phone. No signal. “Can’t check. Storm’s knocked out reception.”

  “And you saw that girl, right? Tell me you saw her. She didn
’t even recognize me. Me, Nate. How many motion pictures have I been in? I knew all the major actors and actresses when I was her age. Audrey Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, Paul Newman, Gene Kelly. My mother took me to the theater every weekend. I saw Breakfast at Tiffany’s seven times. She didn’t even glance at me. Fetch the clean sheets.”

  “Already on it,” Nate told her, grabbing the umbrella again and running back out to the limousine. Linda always wanted to have extra clean sheets with her when traveling in case they had to stop at a remote discount motel like this one. He didn’t want to stop for the night, but the weather wouldn’t permit anything else. The downpour of rain was blinding out on the road, and even the fastest windshield wipers couldn’t displace the water quick enough. When he saw the flashing sign, he pulled in. Continuing on Interstate 10 in this weather was asking for an accident.

  Inside room 108, Linda hadn’t moved a step. Nate yanked all the sheets off the bed and replaced them with the clean ones from the car. Once every spot of mattress was covered with fresh linen, Linda sat down.

  “You locked the car, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You checked?”

  He pressed the button on his keys to satisfy her. “Locked and safe.”

  “Good. Ready a bath for me, Nate. And clean the tub first. I don’t want to take a bath and get infected with God knows what.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Linda wasn’t your typical Hollywood actress, but Nate had become accustomed to her eccentric mannerisms and requests. He wiped down the backseat of the limo every day, and scheduled routine weekly dry-cleaning to take care of her clothes. And he couldn’t forget the little stuff either, like door handles and pens and sunglasses and jewelry. Even when wearing gloves, Linda was always afraid of touching germs.

  He spent the next twenty minutes scrubbing down the tub with disinfecting spray. Once Linda was happy with the cleaning job, she stripped down and stepped into the lukewarm water. Anything too hot would irritate her skin, and too cold would cause her to shiver. Nate knew the exact temperature she liked. She used a rolled-up towel as a pillow and submerged her body into the water.

  Thunder clapped outside. It didn’t sound far away.

  “That’s good,” she said. “It really relaxes the muscles.”

  Linda still looked fantastic for pushing sixty. Of course, her youthful figure was all because of disciplined diet and exercise with top-dollar Hollywood trainers. Not an inch of her skin appeared to sag, and even her breasts looked perkier than those belonging to girls half her age. Nate had seen them countless times. Nudity wasn’t uncommon, especially when it came to baths and putting clothes on.

  “Tell me how beautiful I am,” she whispered, her eyes closed. “Say it to me, Nate.”

  “You’re extremely gorgeous, Linda.”

  “The prettiest woman in Hollywood?”

  “The prettiest woman in Hollywood. By a mile.”

  Her knees rose from the surface of the water. “Take a razor. It’s been a few days. I feel stubble. I want to wear a dress to see the movie producer tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Nate retrieved a disposable razor and swabbed shaving cream up her calves and around her thighs. Truthfully, he couldn’t see much hair poking out of her skin, but Linda was always self-conscious about that sort of thing. Gently, he turned the sharp edge of the blade towards her skin and swept it up her leg, leaving a clean swath of moist skin trailing behind.

  “Yeah, that’s good,” she said. “You’ve gotten good at that.”

  Maybe because I do it every week, Nate thought. He was her go-to guy for an unexpected leg shaving.

  “And between my legs,” she added. “Massage me there while you shave.”

  Nate looked beneath the glimmering water and intermittent soap suds to Linda’s hairless womanhood. Like her breasts, it looked like that from a younger woman, its shape shifting under the ripples of the bath water.

  “Two fingers, Nate. You know how I like two fingers.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied, doing as she requested.

  There was a loud bang, and the lights went out.

  Justine gazed through the rain-streaked window. She had hoped to be closer to Palm Springs by now, but the rain had forced her hand. She’d have to wait until tomorrow to see her parents. A million outcomes ran through her head as she explained to them what she was going through. She wasn’t sure if they’d welcome her with open arms or slam the door in her face. Surely they wouldn’t do that, not to their own daughter.

  Across the courtyard, a black limousine pulled into an empty parking space. That one must’ve belonged to that older woman she had seen a couple minutes prior, the one with the sparkling strapless dress inlaid with pretty gemstones. She wished she could get away with a dress like that.

  The giant letters of the Copper Discount Motel flashed up high.

  “The rain will be gone tomorrow,” Whitney told her. “I’ll be there to back you up. Don’t worry.”

  “I am worried. Maybe we should just turn around and go back.”

  “And never tell your parents? They’ll find out somehow. You can’t keep it a secret forever.”

  Deep down, Justine knew her friend was right. In the long run, it would be easier to confess now and just get it over with. There was no telling how they’d react. She wanted to look like a proper girl, but she didn’t want to look too girly. Skirts were out of the question. Maybe a tank top and jeans would do. In the dry southwestern heat, she needed something light and flimsy.

  A bolt of lightning streaked across the nighttime sky, and she backed away from the window. Whitney was right there behind her.

  “If they can’t accept that you should’ve been born as a girl, then fuck them.”

  Justine turned to her, her eyes wide. “But they’re my parents.”

  “You think parents are immune to being assholes?” She giggled. “Mine pushed me out as soon as they found out I had a thing for girls. Trust me, Justine. Parents can be just as bad as strangers on the street.”

  Justine knew she was right. She remembered having a tendency towards girly things back when she was younger, like playing with dolls and watching cartoons meant for the other gender. Her parents hadn’t really said anything at the time. Still, playing with girls’ toys and actually coming out as a girl were two totally different things. Above all, she just hoped she could look convincing. The hormones were working their magic, albeit at a snail’s pace. Over the year, little boobies had sprouted on her chest, and the nipples were sensitive enough that she constantly needed to wear a sports bra. On top of that, her hips and butt had gotten bigger. Underneath the right clothes, she looked like a real girl—as long as her male bits were firmly tucked back between her legs.

  A loud crack of thunder rattled the walls, and Justine stumbled backward into Whitney’s arms. When she turned around, her lips were right there, and the two of them kissed. Justine immediately felt safer.

  “The storm isn’t going to get you,” Whitney said.

  “I’ve just always hated storms.”

  Whitney grinned. “You know what I do whenever stuff like this happens?”

  Justine shook her head.

  “I take my mind off it.”

  That’s the last thing she said before Justine felt her shirt being pulled off. Her tiny boobies weren’t much to brag about in the A-cup bra. Even with a layer of padding in the cups they didn’t stick out that much. Regardless, Whitney caressed them through the satin, and Justine felt her nipples swelling. They were so responsive now, and she had loved them ever since they had started to look like they belonged on a girl. Whitney didn’t play around long. She pushed her fingers under the cups and went to pinching the nipples directly. Justine stifled a moan.

  “I love watching your reaction whenever I play with your nipples,” Whitney told her.

  “Yeah?”

  “I was the same way after puberty. Oh hey there’s these awesome little buttons on my
chest now!”

  Both girls giggled.

  “Once your boobs get bigger, you’ll really have some fun.”

  “I hope they get bigger.”

  Allegedly, hormone replacement therapy worked better the younger you were, and Justine was only twenty years old. Last year, she had pictured herself with larger breasts, but the growing wasn’t done yet. Sometimes it took years for them to reach maturity, like with other girls. Justine’s ideal size was a B-cup, but she secretly wished they’d get a little bigger than that. As with the rest of her changing body, it was all up to genetics, which she had no control over. All she could do was take the pills and wait patiently.

  When Whitney began to suck on her nipples, Justine forgot all about the storm. Her lips latched on to one, and the tongue went to work. Simultaneously, a hand came to the other and started tweaking it. Both of them were an inch long by now, and so engorged that they had turned a shade of red. Justine’s heart began to race.

  The hormones were meant to turn her into a girl, but they hadn’t yet eliminated her ability to attain an erection. So, as Whitney played with her budding breasts, Justine felt the familiar rise in her underwear. Her manhood was reacting to the stimulation, and the panties were growing taut around the bulge.

  When Whitney reached between her legs, she stopped her. “No, not there. Don’t stroke it. I … I don’t want that. It’s just awkward.”

  “Maybe someday soon you’ll have a pretty little slit down there,” Whitney said.

  “Yeah, hopefully.”

  Justine couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be a real girl, to be penetrated down there. As it was now, her cock just got in the way, and it reminded her of everything wrong with her body. It also prevented her from going to the beach. A bulge was next to impossible to hide in skintight swimsuits, and surely someone would notice.