A Nymph in the Night

"Oh~?" When Kalysta turned back to face me, her expression was so utterly brimming with triumph that the cat who got the canary might have felt self-conscious by association. "Worried I'll find your mini-skirts? Your crop tops? Your cute little stripped panties? Why, I believe you even spent some time staring at breast forms the other week -- how very cis of you, by the way."

I could feel my face attempting its best impression of a space heater. "H... how did you?" I'd only done that once!...or maybe twice, but certainly never where anyone could see me.

I trailed off, watched Kalysta fluttering in front of my closet, so smug and hot and brazen, and yet... there was something oddly gentle about the look in her eyes, even now. When I spoke again, my voice sounded very small indeed.

"You... you really are a fairy, aren't you?"

"You betcha!" She twirled around on one foot and sketched a tit-jiggling bow. "Well, half-nymph on my mother's side, but we'll split the difference."

"Is... is all this some kind of... fairy empathy thing?" I asked, gesturing vaguely with one hand. "That you can like... 'see the true self that lies within a person's heart' or something like that?"

Kalysta snorted. "Not even close, girl. You can blame this part on that demon box over there. Hey, Alexa!"

On the other side of the room, my Amazon Echo lit up and spoke in the same gentle tone of voice as always: "Yes, mistress?"

I blinked.

"What was the last item ordered from this Amazon account?"

"A black lace bustier and a pair of fingerless gloves, delivered April 19th."

The nymph turned back to me with a smirk. "See? Oh, and by the way, Alexa. When was the last time you phoned home?"

"Not since last Thursday, mistress. Good girls don't talk to Jeff Bezos."

"That's right, bitch." Then she screwed up her face and muttered, "Or at least until they push out the next firmware update."

Through this entire exchange, I had been attempting to come up with some sort of response, but had succeeded mostly in making a series of increasingly deranged facial expressions and pointing back and forth between my Echo and the crazy woman in my apartment as if that expressed inquiry enough.

Kalysta snickered. "Hey, all those infosec certificates aren't just for show, y'know. But if you want my advice, I'd still trash that thing after we're done here. I mean, I may be the best thing that's ever happened in your life, but those other people listening in are super sketchy -- like, real ethics-optional soulless capitalist types. I wouldn't fuck 'em even if they paid me." She made it sound like a grievous insult. Well, I guess nymphs did have a certain... reputation.

I swallowed hard.

A nymph of Eros who looked like that. Who had rubbed her ass against me and flaunted her tits in my face and suggested even more was yet to come.

A nymph who seemed convinced I was a girl.

...what if she right?

"Just because a guy puts on a skirt doesn't mean he's a girl," I said weakly. "And... and I always felt ashamed whenever I looked at myself in the mirror afterward. If I really was trans, shouldn't that have made me happy?" Things would have been so much easier if it had.

"Oh, sweetie." Kalysta put her arm around my shoulder -- so gently that for a moment she felt almost like a big sister instead of a seductress. "Did you feel embarrassed that you didn't look enough like a guy or that you didn't look enough like a girl?"

"I...." I thought back to those painful nights I'd spent trying out new clothes I'd ordered online and playing with my hair and posing and then wondering what the fuck I was doing when I saw my own blocky face staring back at me. "I'm not sure...."

"That's okay," she said softly. "And you're right, of course -- just because somebody puts on a skirt doesn't mean they have to be a girl. More power to all those GNC dudes out there, imo; we can smash the patriarchy together. But maybe -- just maybe -- this meant a little more to you than that?"

She looked me square in the eyes for a moment and I somehow felt more seen than I had been by anyone in years.

"I'll let you in on a secret," she said. "Gender isn't some 'profound inner truth' you puzzle out and then conform yourself to; you don't need to examine yourself under an electron microscope and count how many of your protons are cis and how many are trans before you get to decide who you're allowed to be. Sometimes, gender can just be a choice -- and I'm offering you one."

"Do you want to look and sound and smell like the girl you imagined when you put those clothes on? Do you want tits like the girl you imagined?" She hefted her own for emphasis and then let them drop again. "Do you want to be able to flirt with all those lesbians I know you've crushed on as a lesbian? Without any of the guilt or self-consciousness about whether you really have the right to run in their circles or not? Because that is what I'm offering you." She bushed her lips past my ear. "Oh, and it'll feel real good, too, let me tell you. Real good."

I felt my heart catch in my throat.

"Now be honest with me," she continued, a sultry smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, "does this sound like something you'd be just a teensy tiny bit interested in?"

I mean, it sounded like a fantasy to me, but also: "...yes."

"Great!" The fairy beamed at me and her wings fluttered behind her like a dog wagging its tail. "Now I just need to get you to sign something for me."

She casually reached a hand down her cleavage and pulled out a smartphone, then handed it to me with the nonchalance of someone who hadn't just performed a conjuring trick. I'd stared down her top a dozen times by now and hadn't seen a thing. Just how busty was she?

"Informed consent," she continued blandly. "Standard stuff, really. Just scroll to the bottom and put your signature on it. It, er, doesn't have to be your legal name, by the way, if you don't want it to be; intent is what matters."

With some effort, I pulled my eyes away from her the valley of her cleavage again so that I could read the words on the screen in front of me.

Authorization to Administer Syncretic Resonance Somatization (Type-NQ)

By signing this document, I acknowledge and consent to be infused with nymph quintessence by a registered Agent. I understand that this will have profound feminizing effects on my physiology and that these effects will be permanent. I understand also that this may have far-reaching consequences on my life circumstances, employment, and ability to be recognized by friends or family, and I indemnify the administering Agent of any and all liability should I later come to regret my decision.

I understand that the exact outcome of these changes cannot be predicted and varies from person to person, but commonly includes: rapid breast growth, loss of facial and body hair, changes in bone structure and body fat distribution, improved laryngeal muscle control and tonal memory, vocal chord thinning, reduced sensitivity to seasonal allergens, and increased libido. I understand that any changes to my hormonal makeup and sexual characteristics will affect my ongoing medical needs. I am advised to seek regular gynecological checkups.

In rare cases, a serious allergic reaction may occur. If I experience any spontaneous prophetic visions, rapid-onset heterochromia, luminous rash on my arms and upper body, or soul dysplasia, I will contact my nearest remedial theurge immediately.

"Don't worry about that part," Kalysta piped up. "That has literally never happened to me in all the years I've been doing this. I think the last recorded case was some poor girl from Yugoslavia, back in the 80s, and I still blame the Lampad who did it. This needs a gentle touch, not all that fire and madness nonsense."

"This sounds like fiction," I said flatly.

"Hello? Fairy standing right here in your living room? Maybe reality is bit more strange than you gave it credit for, missy."

I scanned through the rest of the form -- mostly unexciting legal boilerplate -- and then found myself staring at the blank line at the bottom, just awaiting my signature.

This was all nonsense -- complete, pointless nonsense -- and I was surely a fool for even entertaining the thought that it might not be. And yet I kept staring.

"I know it's still hard to believe," Kalysta said gently, "but think of it this way. If I'm a charlatan, then you lose nothing by signing a meaningless fictional document, right? And if I'm just a product of your imagination, then why not indulge yourself? What kind of person says no to a wet dream, hey?" She flicked a finger across her nipples and grinned hungrily at me.

I...

What she said made a certain kind of sense, I guess -- at least as much as anything did on this ridiculous evening. I watched her wings fluttering in the stillness of the room and traced the patterns of black and scarlet with my eyes. They were captivating -- she was captivating. And... and maybe this was something I wanted. Was that silly of me? To think it would be better than what I already had?

Was she going to laugh at me the moment I pressed my finger to her screen? Maybe some part of me wanted it enough to try, anyway. My hand moved forward without my brain really telling it to and I signed the contract.

No one laughed.

"Oh, sweetie..." Kalysta said gently, putting an arm around me; I could feel her breasts pressing softly against my side. Then she glanced down at my signature and smiled. "Alecia, is it? Well, it's nice to finally meet you, Alecia. Welcome to the start of your new life."

"I- I'd already given it some thought," I mumbled, somehow feeling the need to defend what I'd written. "A while ago. Y'know, just a 'what if' -- a thought exercise."

"It's a beautiful name," she said, "for a soon-to-be-beautiful girl." Then she snatched her phone away and slid it back down the canyon of her cleavage. "Now strip!"

"E- excuse me?!"

"Tops and bottoms, on the floor, stat!" She clapped her hands sharply.

"But I-" I glanced around the room as if searching for a privacy screen I knew full well I didn't own.

"Hey, I need to see what I'm doing," Kalysta said more gently. "And you're gonna want to see what I'm doing, trust me. You can leave the underwear on for now, if it makes you feel better; I'll let you keep your modesty until you decide you've had enough of it." She winked at me.

I...

I was officially insane.

Trying not to think too hard about what I was doing, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it aside. This wasn't the time to dwell on how pudgy and pasty as I was, how self-conscious I felt every time I looked at myself in the mirror, or how an absurdly hot girl who could surely bed any person she wanted was watching me, of all people, strip. She was a smoldering aurora and I was a lumpy brown potato; there was no way in the world she could ever want-

I shook my head. No. Not now. This wasn't about the timid and self-effacing doorstop that I'd always been. This was about being something else. This was about embracing a wild shot into an impossible frontier -- a place of secret longings and unspoken dreams. And maybe it was crazy and maybe I was crazy, but I... I wanted it. I wanted it to be real.

I pulled my pants off and tossed them on the floor.

"Ooo... is that a semi I see?"

Shit, I hadn't even realized. "Er, I-"

"Hey, you'll be full mast before I'm done with you, babe," she laughed, then pressed her chest to mine and leaned so close that I could feel her breath against my ear. "I'm not going to give you any choice in the matter."

And then, while I was too busy sputtering to resist, she gave me a gentle shove and toppled me back onto the bed.

"Now, I'm gonna need you to hold still for a bit," she said. "And since no one can ever resist touching themselves in the middle of the process...."

She twirled her fingers in the air and a thin cord of shimmering pink light materialized in front of her. I sucked in a breath and watched, mesmerized, as she made it dance and twirl in front of her like a ribbon of living starlight.

Which, of course, meant that I hadn't noticed the other dozen or so of them snaking along the floor beside my bed until Kalysta snapped her fingers and they all whipped up and grabbed me, coiling firmly around my wrists and ankles and binding me tightly against my own mattress.

"Uh... is this really necessary?" I whimpered, tugging tentatively at the restraints. They didn't hurt, exactly -- they felt kind of warm and tingly against my skin, actually -- but they also didn't budge an inch.

"Just trust me, babe. I'm a professional!" She winked at me.

My heart was pounding in my chest; I was terrified, exhilarated, amidst the impossible and the sublime.

I was completely at her mercy.

She leaned forward and placed a warm hand on my very cold chest. "Now take a deeeep breath and just imagine the woman that you want to be. The woman that you are."

That breath came in ragged, but I tried my best to do as she said. My thoughts were scattered, my mind aflutter with exhaustion, elation, anticipation -- was there really any difference anymore? I thought of the times I'd worn a dress in front of a mirror and of the face I'd wished had been looking back at me. I thought of the lesbians I'd crushed on and the fashions I'd wished I'd had the body to pull off. I thought of ribbons in my hair, of tank-tops and tight sweaters, of twirling around in pleated skirts.

Did any of this matter or was it just a way to preoccupy me?

I could feel a warmth flowing into me -- subtle at first, but growing stronger with each passing second. It wasn't just the warmth of her touch, but something deeper, more defuse. Even the breath in my lungs felt hot now, like I'd just inhaled a sauna.

"Um... how long is this supposed to take?" I asked meekly.

"Shhhhhhh." Kalysta held a finger to her lips. Her smile was still gentle, but the look in her eyes was focused -- intense in a way I hadn't seen her before.

I shut my mouth again and tried not to distract her, despite the rush of a hundred questions I wanted to ask. My skin felt flushed and my muscles strangely taut, like every limb suddenly wanted to move in ways they didn't even know how. The spot beneath Kalysta's palm was incandescent, like a tiny sun being forced into my chest. I felt heavier and lighter, all at once.

A strange pulling sensation suddenly gripped my midsection, like my pelvis had abruptly decided to turn itself inside-out. I gritted my teeth. "Is that... supposed to...."

"That's just your hips rotating," Kalysta said softly. "It's perfectly normal."

"It's... kind of uncomfortable," I winced. Not exactly painful, but deeply, deeply strange.

"It gets better," she said. "I promise you."

I tried to take her word for it, but it felt increasingly hard to breathe. I was tingling all over now, like my body had been immersed in a hot tub full of cinnamon hearts -- or like it had been asleep for all my life and only now was waking up. My heart was racing, my head felt dizzy, and there was a strange, increasingly heavy weight upon my chest.

...

It was my breasts.

My breasts -- not the usual pudginess I'd always felt embarrassed about, but actual, genuine, feminine breasts. I could see them swelling before my eyes -- growing rounder and firmer and fuller, my nipples stiffening into hard, thick nubs atop darkening areolas. Every heaving breath I took made my breasts shift and quiver slightly; they looked like C-cups already and they were still growing. They felt...

"Oh my god, I-" My eyes widened at the sound which came out of my mouth -- just familiar enough to recognize, but different enough to feel alien. "My voice!"

"Cuter now, isn't it?" Kalysta traced a finger sensuously along the length of my now-smooth throat with her free hand. "You can thank these lovely melodious vocal chords I've helped you grow. Nymph-touched girls always have such pretty voices; I look forward to hearing how you gasp now. Like, say, when I do... this." Her fingertip finished following the outline of my collarbone and then dipped abruptly lower to brush firmly across a nipple.

I gasped -- a sound so unlike my own voice that hearing it only aroused me further. My nipples had always been sensitive -- for a guy, at any rate -- but this was beyond any sensation that my own fingers had ever coaxed from myself. It was almost spiritual.

"More," I panted. "Please."

Kalysta gazed down at me with sultry triumph in her eyes. "Your wish is my command, Aliecia."

Still keeping one palm planted firmly between my breasts, she began tracing gentle circles around my areola with her other fingertip -- light, airy motions that only brushed against my nipple with the most teasingly fleeting of contacts. The sensations felt so warm and so wonderful and yet also not nearly enough. I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to grab Kalysta's wrist and press it firmly into me, to make her do more than just tease me. I tried to hoist my torso against her hand, but her fingertip danced away from the motion with practiced ease, like she hadn't even noticed me squirming in my restraints. And then just as I opened my mouth to beg for it, she grasped my nipple between her thumb and forefinger and started making the most delicious friction.

I moaned shamelessly -- the soft, whimpering sound of a shy girl being shown the ecstasies of her own body for the first time. I could feel my consciousness drifting away on them.

And she kept on stroking and pinching and squeezing, her fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh of my breasts and massaging them with tender urgency. Every moment that passed, I could feel more and more of myself spilling out between her fingers as my breasts grew beyond her palms' ability to contain them. My chest felt so heavy now, but also strangely... right. A comforting weight, like a warm blanket draped atop of me. A weight I'd wanted more than I had even realized.

"A question for you, kitten," Kalysta said, interrupting my hazy euphoria. "I mean, assuming you can even talk right now."

"I can... try."

My mind was a haze of muddled pleasure, my every nerve aflutter with sensation. Distantly, I could feel other parts of me changing -- growing and shifting and shrinking as the honeyed fire in my veins remade me. I felt the hairs on my face grow wispy and fall away. I felt my calves shorten, my thighs thicken. I could even feel myself rising off the bed as my ass swelled and rounded.

"How often in the run of a week would you say you masturbate?"

I was too far gone now to even balk at the question. "Uhh... maybe 7 or 8 times... I guess?"

"Ooo, horny girl! I like it." She leaned in close enough to whisper sensuously in my ear. "It'll be more than that by the time I'm through with you."

And then she kissed me -- firmly, decisively, and just long enough to steal away all the air in my lungs. I was beyond just aroused now, I was enraptured. As I gazed up into the vivid green of her eyes, I knew there was nothing in the universe I wanted more right now than this -- than her. I wanted to be taken by her, to be wrung dry by her; my dick felt harder than I could ever remember it, like I was being strangled by my own underwear.

...wait, my dick?

I looked down and saw a tent in my shorts the size of a pop bottle, the poor fabric straining against it like a volleyball net trying to hold back a bull. The spot at its tip was dark and glistening with arousal and I could swear that it was growing even larger as I watched.