Evan's Artifact

Another immeasurable amount of time passed. I could only count the beating of my heart as a metric for any passing moment, but in my panic, I was unable to count past even ten no matter how many times I tried.

Crack.

A flash of searing pain struck me below my ribcage - though it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. I looked in the mirror in front of me, looking for something that could have made that sound. It sounded like it came from inside of me. Bones? My skin, still numb from the cold metal, felt no change, though I was quick to realize the needles that had been pressing into my waist seemed to have retracted. Concern turned to hope, as I the thought crossed my mind that perhaps the machine had broken somehow, and that a malfunction was occurring. As these thoughts continue to stir, my hopes grew, as the mechanical arms around my waist retracted.

Whatever color I still had left in my face drained away.

So it was bones, cried the solemn voice in my head. It had to be. There was no other way my waist could be that impossibly small. I wasn't a large person to begin with, but if what I saw in the mirror was reality, my waist must have easily become three or four inches smaller in diameter.

Was the crack the sound of my ribs breaking then? Where did the bones go? Why did I feel no pain? Were the needles injecting anesthetic?

I had no time to think however, because suddenly another crack came from me, accompanied by what I guessed was a shift in my center of gravity. Fearfully, my eyes looked to any motion it could detect in the reflection of myself - the machinery around my waist and thighs seemed to be retracting.

My hips had widened. It was jarring seeing how much wider my hips looked compared to my shoulders, and how flared they were in comparison to my now-tiny waist. It even felt like more soft flesh seemed to cushion my thighs and ass, realizing that my usually small form felt almost bloated. To an outsider, the changes must have been slight, but my mind struggled to accept the swift transition from my usually lean, athletic body, to this soft, almost frail looking form.

Then my calves were released - and they were lithe, model-like, and any muscle I once had from my toned body was replaced with soft fat and flesh. I'd never looked so...supple, in my life. I couldn't have. I played several sports since I was in elementary. But now, not only did I look helplessly weak, but my ankles seemed tiny, and meekly, I wondered how they'd ever be able to support my body. The machines enveloping my feet also melted away, retracting into the floor, but not before leaving a pair of ridiculously tall 6-inch stilettos in their stead. Somehow, I didn't feel the slightest discomfort, even when both feet clearly curved at an inhumane angle to fit in the new footwear. My feet themselves looked smaller than they were before, though my nails looked perfect, as if I'd just gotten a pedicure.

One by one, the rest of the machines peeled away from my body, revealing what could only be described as overly-sexualized modifications of my body. My shoulders looked thin and fragile, supporting small supple arms that left no trail of my twelve years of badminton. My hands were like my feet, in that they were perfect, with reasonably long nails and soft un-calloused fingers, despite my decade of guitar lessons. My breasts had grown from my usual 32Bs to at least double C cups, and my usually small nipples seemed to grow a little too. Though my extremities were uncovered, albeit still bound by the metal clasps, the machine that had yet to release its hold on me was the one on and in my mouth.

I only saw brief movement in my reflection before my eyes were covered by what I assumed to be yet another mechanical arm, equipped with some sort of silicone cover, no doubt. The cold but soft material pressed firmly against the upper half of my face, and to my horror, began to peel my eyelids open. Needles pierced into the middle of each eye, and though there was no pain, I couldn't describe the level of utmost discomfort I felt, even greater than anything else that had happened to me thus far. Thankfully, it lasted all of a few seconds, before both the machines from my face retracted.

I tried blinking away the sudden blurriness of my vision, and as if the machine knew what I was trying to do, the reflective wall in front of me inched closer and closer, even leaning in toward me at an angle so I could see my reflection better.

My irises were pink. Like, shocking pink. Almost neon pink. And my pupil was in the shape of a heart, clearly annunciated by the contrast between it and my irises.

"What the fuck," I spoke for the first time since my transformation. "What the fuck?!" I repeated, because my voice wasn't my voice. It was higher, pitchier, but also breathier. Like I was some desperate prostitute putting on a show for someone. Somehow my voice had an edge to it, as if every syllable that came out of my mouth was charged with sexual undertones. I paused for a moment, considering how this could be possible, before an orgasm rolled over me.

And not the kind that you get from rubbing yourself off after a long day. Not even the kind your loving boyfriend manages to evoke from you, the kind you love every second of. No, this was the kind that was explosive, that makes every cell in your body discharge with pleasure so intense that anything you've felt before wasn't any feeling at all, but the just a bare glimpse of it. This, was pleasure. This, was real.

My new body felt alien to me as it continued to rock and shake with the subsiding orgasm. Even what should have been small waves of pleasure following the main event were easily ten times as powerful as a normal orgasm. My eyes were rolling in the back of my skull, my arms and legs only held in place by the metal shackles that kept me bound to the chair. Between my thighs, cum trickled seemingly endlessly down both my legs, leaving the chair that supported me slippery with my lubrication, and slowly forming a growing puddle on the floor. The pleasure was almost torturous.

I thrashed in my clasps for a timeless period. My screams turned to moans, which turned to gasps, which eventually died down to complete silence as my body neared its upper limit. It was a while before I regained control over myself.

When I came to, I found the clasps holding me down had released themselves, and the needle that was pressed in my nape had finally retracted as well. The mirror that was opposite to me had moved back several feet, giving me room to get up. The room clearly wanted me on my feet, but having just orgasmed more times than I could count, my soft body was devoid of any strength.

After letting my mind catch up to my body, I gingerly tried to stand, joyous surprise kicking in when I realized my body was far from exhausted. It wasn't to last, however, as fear and panic slowly returned now that the warmth of my orgasmic fit had ebbed away. And then I saw myself.

The first thing I noticed was my hair. It shone with a brilliance I'd only ever seen in advertisements. Smooth, shimmering, and silky, I turned around to better see it. It had somehow grown much longer, ending just above my perfectly round ass. The bangs I once had were gone, and my hair was instead parted to one side, giving it a voluminous appearance. As I turned my head to and fro, I could see it was vibrant with a subtle pinkish hue, rather than the usual brown and black of my natural hair color. Though slightly off-putting, I found it an exciting change. My stomach tingled at the femininity of my new style.

Moving to better see myself, I stumbled slightly, forgetting that my feet were now in heels. Prior to this, the tallest heels I'd ever worn were only a couple inches tall, as to look better when standing next to Evan at prom, who at 6'2 was a bit difficult to dance with when not wearing heels. 6 inches...a completely different story. But standing in them felt natural to me. Disbelief was the forward emotion in me, yet I couldn't help but marvel at how easily I balanced myself in them. I took a cautious few steps, pacing back and forth along the mirror, watching my own reflection effortlessly move. Whoever was in the reflection could not have been me.

The heels seemed to force my torso forward a bit, as I had to compensate for the strange angle I walked at. It was like I had to constantly jut out my hips while simultaneously leaning my torso back a little, lest my balance be compromised. It looked and felt like I was doing an impression of a supermodel walking down a runway, but all the time. But then a thought came to me. Did I have to wear the heels? Why continue wearing them?

Then another voice countered. Why not? After all I looked good.

And it turned me on like crazy.

The fear I felt from seeing my body change so suddenly was quickly vanishing. It was kind of nice. After all, wouldn't most anyone want to look like I do now?

I was only just realizing it, but the addition of heels was what kept me tall as I was before. I must have lost...well, six inches. That made me only five feet tall. A very petite, curvy, and much sexier five feet.

From my much smaller waist to my thinner, more slender extremities, I looked like I belonged in a Korean pop idol group. My posture in my new heels added to the image as well, and I could have sworn my skin almost shone with a subtle glow.

Not to mention my face. And my skin. I looked like someone straight out of photoshop. Any blemishes I once had on my skin were gone, only smooth, cool, and soft to the touch. The thin fuzz of hair I once hand along my arms was entirely gone, and a quick inspection of my legs showed the same there. Entirely hairless. I couldn't feel any imperfections.

The face that stared back at me was undeniably my own, but at the same time, clearly wasn't. My usually high cheekbones seemed even more pronounced, while somehow still retaining the slight chubby cheeks I'd always had. My neck had no loose folds of skin, and neither did my chin, despite my best efforts to make unflattering expressions. My bright pink eyes would take a bit of time getting used to, but the naturally long eyelashes and fuller lips were something I could get used to. While my lips weren't over the top like most people who get their lips done, it was clear to see I had extremely plush lips, giving me an annunciated pouty look. I ran my tongue over them slowly, enjoying their softness and fullness.

I turned my body side to side, admiring each new part of myself. My hourglass figure was simply breathtaking. Putting on a mockingly smug expression, I placed my hands on my wide hips, shifting my weight from leg to leg. Each movement made my new breasts jiggle slightly from their new volume, yet they showed no inclination to sag. They rested atop my chest with perkiness akin to a cartoon character, while being just sizeable enough to not be considered ridiculous. I didn't understand the physics of how my teensy waist could hold up their weight, but I felt no fatigue. Even the weight of just my 32Bs, my previous size, was enough to only slightly bother my lower back. This was gone.

Turning around to look at my ass again was just as delightful as it was the first time. Perfectly bubbly, shapely mounds tapered sexily into my thighs and calves. I ran my soft fingers over the soft curves that so accentuated the virility that coursed through me, feeling for the first time how heightened my sensitivity was. Shivers ran down my spine as my mind tried to make sense of how good the sensation felt. Just running fingers along my side made me feel this good? My new body was clearly made for sex.

Just as I leant in closer to the mirror to better observe my new bright pink eyes, an itch began to scratch at me. It was an itch I'd felt before, that was for certain, but it was so much deeper and more ingrained in me - like an itch you can't really place, but is there until you grasp at your entire body, trying to placate it. Just as I thought I was going to go crazy, it became clear to me.

I needed to fuck.

And I needed it bad. I needed it so severely, suddenly it was the only thing I could think about. I'd been horny before, sometimes dragging Evan from his daily routine at random moments to satisfy my cravings, but compared to the fire lit in me now, it was nothing. I reached a hand down to my pussy; brief surprise touched my mind as I felt no hair. It was completely smooth, even smoother than it'd been after the Brazilian I'd gone for once. Exploring further, my clit stood erect under my hood. I reached down, grazing it slightly-

"NNGGAHHHHAAAA!" The scream escaped me before I could control it. It was as if lighting struck, the pleasure so severe and instant my mind couldn't keep up. I closed my eyes, the bright lights of the room drowning me with imprints that danced under the darkness of my lids as if in rhythm with my rolling orgasm.

Instinctively, I reached for my chest, giving it a small squeeze, pleasantly surprised again by its newly gained mass. They were so soft and full in my supple hands, and my nipples felt so much more sensitive. Rolling one around between my thumb and forefinger, I prolonged the orgasm still shaking through me, stretching the pleasure as thinly as I could. Even in the afterglow, the pleasure was more intense and gratifying than any orgasm I'd had before. As the pleasure seemed to flow through me and back to the source - my clit - questions raced through my mind, only to be quickly buried beneath the growing carnal thirst for more and more pleasure. I wanted to stop, I wanted to find out what was going on with me, I wanted the truth-

Then I saw it in the corner of my eye.

Behind me, the chair had one new addition to it. A pink dildo, easily a foot long as well as tapering out to three and a half inches in width at the base, stood tall in the middle of the chair's seat. Its head flared nicely, almost appearing knotted; its veiny length was ribbed at various sections. I expected to feel disgust, or perhaps fear, but my perceptions had changed. Instead, a burning itch of desire welled up inside me, making my body feel like it was squirming all over. My nipples tingled from the cold of the room, hardening quickly in response to my state of need. Likewise, my sight seemed to tunnel in on the chair and the desire to rub myself all over it overtook any strength for much conscious thought.

I greedily stepped back toward the chair, my heeled feet not hindering me in the slightest. My pussy was already drenched. The humongous size of the dildo worried me, but I wasted no time in positioning it at my entrance. Slowly, I squatted down.

"Unnnnngggghhhhh," a throaty cry slipped from me as the first several inches entered me. The fullness I felt, even from the partial insertion, was more fulfilling than any sex I'd ever had. Heat continued to radiate from my stomach to the rest of my body as more and more of the rigid dildo entered me. It was so right.

My eyes couldn't help but stare at the woman in the reflection in front of me. I saw a young goddess - somehow elegantly squatting down on a dildo with the most exquisite expression on her face. She bit her lower lip in concentration, annunciating how puffy and pouty her lips had turned. Soft moaning continued to escape her, leaving little of how she was feeling to imagination.

Though my mind was overloaded far beyond any coherent capacity, the image of myself practically tiptoeing in my heels and squatting down with more and more enthusiasm was intoxicating. I couldn't stop looking at myself. I was so fucking gorgeous, so fucking delicious looking. Images of my new body in various tightly fitted pieces of clothing swam briefly into mind, where they'd easily accentuate the already curvaceous form I was given. So many men, hell even women, were going to lose their minds over me.

The thought of fucking anyone I wanted sent a fresh wave of heat over me and in one fluid motion, I fully lowered myself onto the dildo, taking it all the way to the base.

I lost my breath. I felt like I was choking on pleasure.

The foot-long monstrosity must have pushed into my cervix. Whereas before when Evan would bottom out in me and pain would shock through me, pleasure now seemed to numb both body and mind. I could feel myself clenching and unclenching the massive dildo, my heightened sensitivity helping me feel every vein and ridge on it.

My body spasmed out of control for minutes on end. "Ahhh, nnggahh, ahhhhhhffuuuuuck," my moans continued, eventually drowning out into unintelligible sputtering. Drool steadily dripped from the side of my mouth, and spasms randomly shook through me.

In one of the few gasping moments of awareness, I saw my reflection in the mirror yet again: somehow despite having zero control over the orgasms overtaking me, the girl in the mirror looked as graceful as could be. Perfect, bouncy voluminous hair, perky breasts that shook alluringly with the spasms, and a subtle pink glow accenting her cheeks.

And of course, the outline of the giant dildo was visible through her soft, thin stomach. Its head could be seen as a bulge ending just before her bellybutton. The sight sent another orgasm rolling through me, so intense my eyes involuntarily rolled up into my skull.

It must have been a dozen or so minutes before I was in control of myself again. The pressure I felt inside of me constantly threatened me to orgasm, leaving me just on the edge at all times. I was surprised to be conscious at all, given how close I was to blacking out just moments before.

I moved to pull myself off the dildo and chair, thinking that just maybe, this was too much for me. The second that thought entered my mind however, the clasps on my arms, legs, and neck were back.

Oh fuck.

Within seconds, I heard the familiar whirring of machinery beginning to extend. This time, it came from below me. Fear returned.

I could feel a section of the chair I was on opening up, and just like that, my ass was exposed to the cool air of the room.

I expected it, and yet, nothing could have prepared me for it. What must have been a dildo began pressing against my asshole. It pushed with increasing pressure, seemingly awakening something within me. I could feel my asshole beginning to contract and ache for something to hold onto, the way my pussy does when I'm turned on. While it was a strange and almost entirely alien feeling, it felt so right. Like I'd been made for this to happen. A moment later, I felt some kind of liquid begin to drip down my ass. It couldn't have been my pussy - all the natural lube I was dripping was blocked by the monstrosity inside of me.

It was my asshole. My asshole was dripping girl-cum.

As if on cue, the dildo that had been pressing against me finally broke through.

"NNNNYYAAAAHHHHH!" an involuntary scream escaped me as pleasure unlike anything I'd ever felt before ripped through me. The dildo must have been as large as the other lodged inside of me. But the pleasure was a million times more intense. It was like the walls of my anal cavity were lined with thousands of microscopic clits, all firing and convulsing with simultaneous pleasure. My pussy clenched and unclenched the giant dildo it currently fitted, trying to milk out every bit of pleasure it could. As the sensations enveloping me grew stronger and stronger, I could begin to feel my consciousness slipping away. Then, body still writhing in agonizing pleasure, all was black.