The New One, Even More!

She shook into focus, widening her eyes and shaking her head to knock the cobwebs off her thoughts. It was Rory, and he was coming closer. Like a child desperate to hide her misdeed, she rushed out of the hidden room and closed it, even as the door of the study opened.

“Hey.” Rory poked his head in the room without fully entering. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Sorry, I was in another world, I guess. What’s up?”

“It’s Matt. The guy I hired.”

“Something wrong?”

“I think he’s sick. Do you have some aspirin or something?”

“I think so. Let me check.”

Reluctantly, she followed Rory back into the hall and made her way up the stairs to the bedroom,w here a bottle of aspirin was tucked in her purse,a long with emergency makeup supplies and a couple of pads in case bleeding came early. 

When she returned, Rory was all but supporting the handsome handyman. Matt looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. The transformation from that morning was shocking. If someone could waste away in a few short hours, she hoped this wasn’t some virus that she or Rory could catch. 

“Thanks,” Rory said, taking the aspiring and dumping a apir of small white tablets into his palm. He handed the bottle back to her and handed over a bottle of water for Matt to wash down the pills.

“Tbank you. Sorry, I swear I don’t usually get sick. Must be a bug or something.”

Sweat stood out on his forehead, and his cheeks looked sallow.

“Don’t worry about it. A leaky pipe can wait. Do you need me to call someone, get you a ride home, or-?”

“No.” Matt shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Just need a minute to rest.”

Sara waited with them until Matt made his way to his truck and rolled away. He seemed better by that time, but he had a shuffling manner to his gait that was unlike the confident stride, almost a swagger, she saw before.

“Guess I’ll go try to find that leak,” Rory sighed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine,” she said, but there was a sick feeling in her gut that betrayed her words.

He could hear the leak, even when he didn’t see the leak, which was driving Rory to a temporary insanity. Using the heavy duty flashlight Matt left behind, the basement’s labyrinth of boxes and furniture and odd little closets lit up. He was surprised by the lack of rodents and bugs down here, but wasn’t going to look that gift horse in the mouth. He wasn’t squeamish about much, but spiders and other multi-legged beasties were enough to give him a case of the heebie-jeebies.

What he didn’t count on was the center of the basement and its comfortable-looking arrangement of furniture. One of the cabinets was open, and inside the light shone on an assortment of women’s clothes, most of them appearing to be quite old, but in excellent condition. 

Further investigation of the makeshift room, its walls made up of the stacks of saved heirlooms and newspapers and magazines, revealed yet another alcove, this one with a standing mirror and a small table with an oval mirror reflecting his light back at him. The top of the desk had a number of shallow but wide drawers, and more on either side of the empty space where an antique chair was pressed against it. Most of these smaller drawers were filled with powdered makeup and combs and brushes. The makeup had long since expired, but the brushes looked to be in good shape, and might fetch a few dollars on ebay, or down at David’s store. 

The tray on the far right, though, held only a single object. A necklace, the profile of a woman cast in ivory, set in a silver setting dangling from a similarly silver chain. It was beautiful. He pocketed the necklace and moved on, past the makeshift parlor and into another winding artificial passage in his hunt for the source of that never-ending dripping sound.

The cell displayed a number of missed calls from the shop, but David quickly swiped them away, pushing thoughts of work and the store that sustained him and his family for two generations quickly aside. It was hard to focus on much of anything. The thrumming in his head had cleared some, but what remained in its wake had David fractured and frustrated. 

Janey was worried. He could see it all over her face, and he should have been worried, too. The sunken look and weight loss not only persisted, but had him shrinking at an alarming rate. The fineness of the hair on his arms and legs persisted, and it hardly seemed as if there was any at all now. His facial hair, too, had all but vanished, leaving Janey to comment that his cheeks were as smooth as hers.

Worse, the thought that he shared any features in common with Janey secretly thrilled him. He’d always enjoyed his burly stature, even when his gut started to hang over his belt. And being the big guy, the one who could easily toss his wife over his shoulder and  toss her playfully into bed, that was part of his bear-like manner. 

Now, that thinking felt foreign. It was like some other person had slithered into his brain and nestled there. 

Janey was at work, though income from the store seemed stable enough when he managed to remember to call and check up on things. The last time, Abby answered, and she didn’t recognize his voice. It had jumped an octave, and sounded more like a husky-voiced woman than his normal baritone. 

David pulled himself out of bed, noting again the thinness of his legs as they swung over the side. Even his feet were smaller. When he slipped them in his house shoes the previous morning, they flapped comically against him, like clown shoes instead of the slippers that were snug just the week before. Standing to his full height, now well shy of the former six feet and a few inches, he staggered his way from bed to bathroom, where he sat on the toilet.

Forget getting hard, his cock was so shriveled and shrunken against his pelvis, the hair nearly concealed it. The past twenty-four hours brought a new humiliation. He had to sit down when he peed. Not that he wanted to. That was the worst, most confusing part of the whole mess. When he sat down on the toilet like he’d seen Janey do through the open bathroom door a million times, it felt proper and good. Even allowing himself to sway his ass some when he walked felt good to him. 

A Google search for a virus, or even a brain injury that could turn someone gay, or effeminate, resulted in no results, besides some lurid fiction and plenty of artwork done by miscreants on the internet. 

It was, however, undeniable. As his body grew more slight and his hair thickened and stretched to the base of his neck, his mind shifted, too. The thought of putting on a dress never once occurred to him in all his days, at least until the past day or two. Now, when he saw Janey dressing, or wandering the house in her nice dresses and form-hugging shorts, he wanted not to claim her, but to be her. 

It took a concentrated effort to get into the shower, his body still aching and sore. The water felt good on his body, heat soaking down to his bones. Tilting his face up, he felt the new weight of his longer hair and explored the hairlessness of his stomach and chest. Fatty tissue collected at his breasts, giving them an unfamiliar but pleasing weight. When he pressed his nipples between his fingers, he let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure. The spark he felt did not reflect in his shrunken manhood, which remained small and flaccid, but a well of arousal rose inside him, a hunger that was molten and savage. 

There was no release for that hunger, even as he tried to stroke his puny cock to some kind of climax. When he resolved that nothing was going to finish this with any kind of satisfaction, he stepped out of the shower and reveled in running the towel over his softened features. His skin sang with the touch of the cotton against his skin. When he was done, hi ahir pulled back in a loose ponytail to manage the sudden length of it, he had to resist the urge to try on some of Janey’s clothes. He was sure they would fit now. And the thought of seeing himself in some of her more alluring outfits fed the hunger inside him. The frustrating and wonderful thing about the sensation was that every bit of his masculinity he fed to the growing need, the more it wanted and threatened to consume him entirely.

He might have indulged the urge, but then he heard Janey’s car, a return from the gym, he presumed. The mirror in their bedroom showed him his narrow, almost hairless legs jutting from athletic shorts, a more shapely ass than he’d ever possessed before. The tee hid the narrowing of his waist well, and the budding breasts on his chest were too small to be very noticeable, though a touch would reveal the heft of them. 

“Hey, honey,” she called out, dropping her gym baj on the floor by the kitchen. She pulled a water bottle from the fridge and turned it up, drinking almost half before she swiped a few drops from her lips. “You’re out of bed.”

“Yeah,” he answered, lingering in the kitchen door, admiring his wife. He had to focus to deepen his voice for fear of alarming her. When he sighed in the shower under the touch of his own fingers, the sounds that came from his throat were those of a woman, not the man he had been. And, in that time, he had delighted at the realization.

Janey’s naturally large breasts were fairly spilling out of the pink top that held them and showed off her toned abdomen. The tight black exercise pants boasted pink piping to match the top, but it was his wife’s long legs he was focused on, and the delicious roundness of her ass. 

“You look great,” he said in his most manly voice.

She looked more fully at him, her blonde hair loose and still damp with sweat, swinging with her head. There was a brief look on her face that spoke of worry, but he feigned a smile and she relaxed at that.

“You have lost so much weight. We really should have Doctor Proctor take a look at you. Not that you don’t look healthier, but that can’t be good for you.”

“I feel fine. Good, actually.”

She saw the way his eyes clung to her body, his lips parted, tongue flicking over their surface. There was something off about is face, off about all of him really. It was like his lips had been inflated, and the rest of him shrank. They were practically the same height, which was nonsense, an impossibility, and yet when David approached her in his bare feet, Janey still in her sneakers, she could swear he was shorter. Despite the impossibility of his condition, there was something so sexy about him, too. Being close to him, even in this slighter form, or perhaps because of his diminished size, made her want him all the more.

The way he moved, too… it was more a slink than a stride, but then he was beside her, arms encircling her and climbing her back with his fingernails, and they were so long! 

Before she could say another word, his mouth was on hers, and she was wilting in his arms. Wet tongues danced together. His nails were scratching up the base of her neck and into the damp tangle of her hair. She sighed, bending back her head at a gentle tug. His lips found her neck, then, and the tongue that filled her mouth a second before carved a path up her throat, teeth gently biting the tender flesh. 

She didn’t notice the water bottle fall from her hand, bouncing and spinning away with a cough of water on the tiled floor. Janey could only concentrate on the fire lit between her legs, and the fingers that pulled open the waist of her skintight leggings, creeping closer to her delta.

“Oh fuck,” she groaned when his fingertips found her core, parted her, slipped into her. “Fuck yes.”

David was pulling the clinging athletic leggings down, revealing her thong, and then that was gone, too. She kept her fur trimmed down there, and when she felt the tip of his tongue flick against bare skin just above her labia, she gripped his head and guided him to her. 

On his knees, David felt as though he was offering a prayer to femininity itself, diving into her seam, gathering the rich and tart taste of her. He explored her like he never had before, foregoing the duty of her orgasm for a deeper sensuality. His mouth worshipped her pussy with envy and desire, until Janey had her back against the refrigerator, humping her husband’s face as his tongue performed acrobatics around her engorged clit. With a scream she came, but he would not relent until he milked another pair of climaxes from her. When he finally rose from the valley between her legs, his smooth chin wet with her musk, she laughed with the release.

“Jesus, honey, what’s got into you?”

His only response was a sly grin.

That night, after Janey was asleep, David was restless. His body itched, and his thumb played over the tips of his fingers, counting the ticks of the second hand on the clock. Unable to find any peace, he stole softly from the bed and moved without hesitation to Janey’s side of the dresser. 

He slid the drawer open slowly, with the precision and patience of one defusing a bomb, to reveal her collection of colorful panties. With a final look back at the bed, he confirmed Janey still slept, the rhythm of her breathing long and deep. He took a pair of underwear and slid the drewer closed again before creeping to their bathroom and closing the door with the same care he showed with the drawer.

Once alone, David removed his sweatpants, all the better to hide his hairless and more feminine legs, and then the boxers that threatened to fall off him of their own accord. He stepped into the panties and worked them up until they fit snugly against his pelvis and nestled against his rounded ass. When they were seated just so, he sighed with a strange relief.

“Yes,” he whispered to the night. 

Across town, in a single bedroom apartment, Matt Colby shivered beneath his sheets. Sleep was long abandoned, his arms folded over his stomach. Chills raced through him, chattering his teeth causing the old bedsprings to creak under his shuddering weight.

“Please,” he begged, “please make it stop.”

I can take it away, Matthew, the voice said. It was the voice of the woman in the cellar, the one who drank from him and made him cum. 

“Yes,” he croaked. “Please.”

Will you be mine?

“Yes,” he said, and twisted again with a bolt of cold that coursed through him.

She played this game with him all night long, ever since he returned from the house owned by Rory and the pretty girl named Sara. At first, the instruction had been simple, if embarrassing. He’d gone into Roger’s Discount Drugs, and there he purchased panty hose and makeup. When Ruthie Carter asked him if it was for some new girl he was dating, he nodded, but remained silent. The thought of speaking when his voice sounded so unlike his own kept his tongue still. Ruthie frowned, buts he rang him up and put the items in the bag and sent him on his way. 

The next stop was the Goodwill between Roger’s and home, and there the woman instructed him which items to buy. Two dresses and underwear for a woman, but he knew without asking they were intended for him. And soon, if his body kept up its painful shifting and shrinking, these items would fit him like a glove. Not only had his voice altered to become something high and girlish, but his very shape was shifting, seemingly by the moment.

By the time he was home, winding the chain across the door, as if the thin brass would keep her away, he barely recognized himself. His face was always a handsome one, with high and strong cheeks and a powerful jaw, but these monuments of manhood were eroded now. What could have been described before as handsome transformed into something equally beautiful, if more androgynous. The shadow of hair that usually haunted his cheeks and chinw as gone, replaced by a fair-skinned glow and full lips. 

Show me.

It was easy to obey the woman’s voice. When he did, his body hurt less. And the pain disappeared almost entirely once he’d shuffled out of his work jeans and formerly snug boxers. He hardly noticed how his cock, the thick meat he not-so-jokingly referred to as his hammer, withered against him like a leaf clinging to the skeletal limbs of winter arbor. He wore the panties first, then a bra, his invisible patron guiding him to wear the items just so, and then it was a navy dress that zipped up the back. He struggled into it, then contorted to find the zipper at his back, but finally managed with the whisperings of the ethereal woman to help him. 

When he was dressed, there was a surge of pleasure, and he could hear tinkling laughter in his mind. The sound wasn’t happy, not really. It was the sound of victory.

His hands work as if possessed as he leaned into his bathroom mirror, the makeup spilled from the drug store bag onto the counter. He supposed he was possessed in a way, a puppet of the seductive woman from the mansion. While he stretched his eyelids and ran a finger over the lids to paint them with color, he tried his best to deny the erotic pleasure of those acts. When he saw how his hair was longer and lighter, he tried to deny his joy at that, too.

When his work was done, and he stared at the face in the mirror, decorated artfully by makeup, his body wrapped in the navy dress, what greeted him was not his old self, but a new creature, a woman. Flat-chested, perhaps, and evidence of his previous self still hung between his legs, but the girl in the mirror was a striking and beautiful blonde.

That was when fear and rage overtook him, and he threw himself into the bed, shutting his eyes while the pain wracked his body. His joints ached, his muscles throbbed, his brains welled isnide his head. He was sure if he didn’t do something to alleviate the pressure, his brains would simply squirt out of his ears like Play-doh. 

It’s time to feed, the velvet voice whispered in his mind.

“Go away. Please…”

No more resisting. You’ll wither away and die if you don’t feed, sweetheart. Is that what you want? Do you want to die?

“No,” he whimpered, before another freezing wave jangled his spine.

Up, then, she commanded. Time for dinner.

And Matt could feel the hunger, a whirling black pool in the middle of him. He knew that to feed that hunger was to be changed forever, but he was so weak. He only wanted the pain to be gone.

Up, she repeated.

“Will you make it go away?”

Yes, my love. It will all go away and you can be with me forever.

Rising with effort, Matt found his feet. By the time he was slipping those feet into the heels he’d purchased at the Goodwill without conscious thought. When he opened the door and stepped into the night, he felt fine indeed. And so very, very hungry.