1. The Chain: Link 5a


    Date: 10/3/2014, Categories: Fantasy & Sci-Fi, Author: PervyStoryteller, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    “Will you stop saying that? Kissing it was just…” “An impulse? Sam trying to be Samantha? Well you’re Samantha now all right.” Sam tried to calm down, be a bit more conciliatory. “Look Chloe…” She cut him off with a wave of a hand. “You people never know what you really want, do you? Well believe me, Sam, you’ve got it now, so make the most of it.” “No, really,” Sam said. “This isn’t what I…” He was getting agitated again, but there was no authority in his voice whatsoever. “Do you want me to spell it out for you, Sam? ‘Coz I’m not the one who’s laid on my back on my bed with my legs in the air, a finger up my own arse and nylon round my cock while I wank off panting, ‘Fuck me! Oh yes! Fuck me!’” Sam flinched. The thought of anyone knowing about that dirty little secret was unbearable, even a fairy godsister, if that’s what this creature was. “What’s the big deal?” Chloe said. “Here are the shoes. You know you’ve always wanted to.” To Sam it seemed as if the pair she was holding had appeared as if by magic. Perhaps they had. They were black with ankle straps and two inch heels. What Chloe had said was true, of course, he’d always wanted a pair of shoes like this. Chloe was offering them to him. “You can wear the shoes,” she said, “but if you do, we’re going out.” Thoughts blundered through Sam’s mind. What if he never got his male body back? What if he did, but couldn’t get the make-up out? This was all so fucking out there. Chloe smiled. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “Trust ...
    me. You’ll be back to normal, everything in its place tomorrow morning.” How could you trust someone who appeared just like that and made your body change like this? Sam wondered. But now he was looking at the shoes. So often he’d wished he could get hold of a pair. He reached out his hand. The shoes were a perfect fit, but when he stood up, he almost toppled over at once. Chloe gave a little smirk. “Looks like you need a bit of practise,” she told him. “Off you go. I’ll find you when you’re done. Practice makes perfect.” So Sam set off through the house, clinging to the handrail from grim life as he made his way downstairs, finding it hard to walk without worrying about every step being a potential ankle-twister. How did women do it? But that was the least of his problems. Was he really going to go out like this? Not just dressed as a woman, but trapped in a woman’s body? Somehow he sensed he didn’t really have a choice, though he wasn’t sure why. Amazingly practice made, if not perfect, than adequate. Shortly Sam found that he could balance on the heels well enough to feel confident of not toppling over or doing himself an injury. He needed a piss now. That was going to be a new one as well. He managed without any great disasters, though it felt weird sitting down. Once he’d wiped himself, he couldn’t resist having a quick exploration. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t touched a cunt before, but having one himself was an experience so bizarre he still couldn’t get his head around it. ...
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