Ch. 1 - Becoming

The bed came at him fast, but at that point it was welcome to. Allen didn't remember having drunk enough to feel this fucked up, but there he was. The still, solid embrace of the bed was comforting, steadying, reassuring. He gave himself over to it and to the sleep that promised to come mercifully soon ...and resigned himself to figuring all the rest out in the morning.

Just before he slipped into the blissful black of sleep, he imagined that a warm, soft voice whispered in both of his ears at once... I will show you! You will be... amazed.

Strange and strangely erotic dreams threaded their way through Allen's slumber without ever waking him. When he did finally rise to consciousness it wasn't his usual lurch into sunlight; it was more like coming up from a long, deep dive. Light slowly suffused his consciousness, lifting him towards the surface, towards the waking world.

Allen reached out and drew a pillow over his face to staunch the brightness that was attacking his eyes through the closed lids. He breathed deep and tried to doze just a bit more. The pillow, though: It wasn't right. It... it didn't smell right. It wasn't his. It wasn't a pillow he'd expect to find on his bed. It smelled like... like flowers. And Jen. It smelled like Jen! He must still be dreaming. Reassured, he let it go and dozed some more.

Fuck! Something was just not right. Something was really wrong! Something demanded he wake up... get up. Now!

Allen shot out of bed and stood unsteadily in the dim light of a room that seemed strange to him. He knew this place, knew this room, knew that splash of morning light that pierced the drapes. But....

But it wasn't his room! It wasn't where he'd crashed last night - he knew that! A lot of shit from the night before was a fuzzy mess but one thing he knew for sure: He'd crashed in his own room.

Fuck! This was... this was Jen's place. Her room. Had he...? No. He'd remember; he was certain. And if this was... then where was Jen? It was her he'd smelled on the pillow. Of course!

Fuck this is a fever dream! I'm sweating and burning up in my own bed and dreaming this!

His balance wobbled. The room tottered. His chest wobbled. Wait. His...what?!

The room swam and threatened to crush him to the floor. He reached out and found a wall sort of where he expected it. The jiggly feeling in his chest didn't subside, but at least his knees stayed under him.

"I'm okay," he told himself. "I'm at Jen's," he admitted, working through what he knew, trying to put back together a world that could make sense to him. "I don't know how I got here, but I'm okay. I'm gonna be okay. I just... okay."

Bathroom! Now! his bladder suddenly demanded.

Okay, he thought. First things first. Go sit, have a nice morning pee and think things through. He made his way to the bathroom, step by mostly steady step. He found the light by touch. And suddenly, there was Jen in the mirror! Everything was gonna be okay! Alright! He smiled at her and kept moving towards the toilet, obeying the insistence of his bladder. Jen would help him figure this out. He just needed to sit and pee and then he and Jen could make sense of the world together.

Allen sat and reveled in the relief as he felt his bladder let go. Physical and emotional comfort washed through him as he heard the splash of his tinkle strike the water in the toilet bowl.

Wait! Since when had he thought of it as 'tinkle'!? Not since he was like fucking five! "I'm fucking pissing," he growled. Or tried to. What came out was an alto husk. What the fuck?

Just piss, his bladder said. Figure everything else out when you're done.

Okay. Right. He felt the last of his morning pee gush out with satisfaction and he reached for a wad of toilet paper to wipe.

What?! Just shake and flush.

No! You need to wipe!

What!? Wait. Why am I fucking sitting to pee? Like a girl. Like...

Allen stared at the toilet paper wadded in his hand, poised to slide between his legs and wipe his...

Pussy. He stared, frozen. That's... Jen's pussy; he recognized that much clearly.

Fuck! Allen realized that he was some kind of fucked up! This was an off-the-fucking hook fever dream! Somewhere, he told himself, I'm struggling to pull through some serious shit, probably hooked up to IVs and a ventilator. And here he was, locked away in a place his mind had brought him to get away from the horror of the hospital.

A safe place. A...

Why was his safe place so fucked up?! Why would his brain do that?! Had he lost his cock in some horrible accident and this was his brain processing the trauma under sedation?

Suddenly Allen remembered more than once wondering what it would be like to be a girl, usually while surfing porn with his cock in his hand. Then he specifically recalled a couple of recent orgasms that Jen had had - wrapped around his cock or riding his mouth - and remembered thinking, Wow. I wonder how that must feel!

He raised a tentative hand to his left boob and squeezed the taut nipple. An explosion of pleasure ran through his breast and shoulder and neck.

You're not dreaming. You're here. This is real. Like I told you it would be, a warm, soft, almost familiar voice sounded in both ears.

Allen's stomach flip-flopped and his... Jen's... his tits jiggled.

He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. He opened them again. He stared at his tits and pussy for a long moment.

Fuck it. He wiped. He felt the toilet paper brushing between his lips and wicking away the residual pee and another, slicker type of moisture. He was moistening. He felt his pussy tingle and his lips start to fill with hot blood.

His nipples tingled and invited him to caress them again! Fuck! This was... so real. And even though it was kind of scary, it was also kind of hot!

It was at that point that Allen gave in. If he was going crazy or dying he might as well enjoy this very real-feeling... whatever it was.

He cupped his left breast in his hand and felt it's soft, warm weight. He pinched his nipple and gasped again at the thrill. Fuck! This felt so good!

He stood up and went back to the mirror and there was Jen. He was Jen! He squeezed both his hot tits in his hands and pinched the thick, crinkly nipples. Fuck! They looked so hot! So yummy! Allen lifted his left breast and dipped his mouth to wrap his lips around the stiff nipple and suck it. Fucking wow! He was sucking Jen's - his - hard nipple and feeling the warm ripple of pleasure that spread through his boob to his tummy and into his wet pussy all at the same time!

How did she ever leave the fucking house, he thought, shifting to suck the other nipple. His right hand moved without thinking about it and suddenly he was on fire, fingers crushed into his wet pussy and feeling the slick, hot juices flowing between the tight walls of his cunt.

"Fuck, I really need some cock," he gasped and heard Jen's husky voice breathe voice into his naughty desire.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He watched Jen's - his- sexy lips form the words. "Fuck! I need some fucking cock in my hot, wet pussy!" It felt so naughty making Jen talk dirty like that - like he'd fantasized about. She wasn't a prude and she had her naughty moments, but now Allen could turn it on full. "Oh, my pussy is so fucking wet, Allen! I need your cock so fucking bad!"

Normally hearing Jen say those magic words would have made him hard as fucking diamonds. Now, though, it just made him feel wet and empty and craving for cock. Fuck! It was more than just a weird turn-on. Allen actually needed cock and he needed it badly!

He stumbled out of the bathroom and fumbled around in Jen's nightstand until he found a big, purple, cock-shaped dildo. He flung himself down on the bed and spread his legs wide, feeling his wet pussy lips part anxiously, anticipating...

He spread his labia wide apart with one hand and socketed the head of the dildo in the vestibule of his hungry, wet, pussy. Fuck he was tight! He had to shove hard to slide that fat fucker in. The sensations of the thick cock spreading him, stretching his hot cunt out were fucking incredible! Allen shoved and wrestled every bit of the dildo into his hungry cunt until the head of it stretched out the roof of his pussy and the fake ballsack nuzzled his cuntlips. He held it there, luxuriating in the feeling of being stretched out all over a huge cock. He held the dildo inside, aching to fuck himself with it. Fucking hot damn, he thought, as his fingertips sought out his throbbing clit.

That was it!

The sensations that shot through his whole body when his fingertips brushed his hot, throbbing clit were overwhelming. Suddenly Allen was frigging his clit hard and slamming the dildo in and out of his cunt with abandon. He fucked and fucked and fucked himself until his whole body shook and shuddered and lost fucking control. He heard himself screaming out in Jen's voice, "Fuck! Oh! Fuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuuuuck! I'm fucking cumming! Ohfuckingahhhhhhh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Aiyaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

Allen screamed until his breath caught in his throat with the force of the long, shuddering, rippling climax that ripped through his body.

He drifted, warm and tingling through a long, blissful, postcoital interlude. He wasn't panting to catch his breath anymore, so he figured he'd passed out at some point. His cunt was still stretched deliciously around the dildo, but it was no longer so ravenously hungry. It was content. For the moment.

But Allen felt the hunger lurking, ready to rise again. Fuck. Was he a nympho? Had he been thrust into Jen's body and been turned into a nympho as some kind of cosmic punishment for some sin?

Or was this how Jen felt all the time? He'd have to ask... her? Himself? Was Jen... was Jen in his body, then? He hadn't even thought about it until just now.

He rolled over to find his phone. Fuck, was he wet! The bed was fucking soaked! Jen had never been a squirter that he knew of. Fuck. This was nuts.

He got up and cast about looking for Jen's phone. He found it resting on the charger on her bureau. He snatched it up, then just stared at it for a long time, hesitating.

Did he really want to call himself right now and deal with this? Would he freak out? Was she freaking out?

He was freaking out.

Ok. So. Not right now, then: He needed to get a grip. He needed food. He was famished and parched after fucking himself silly first thing in the morning.

Allen set the phone down and went to the bathroom to towel himself off, then he went out in search of some juice and something to eat.