Radical Ch. 01bymoonlitmorning©
Even four years after his wife, Rhonda's, death, Robert Cunningham had still kept their room exactly the same. All her clothes exactly where she'd left them, all her make-up, medicine, brushes, everything, down to the last throw pillow and picture frame in the living room. He just couldn't bear to remove any of it. He'd loved her very dearly.
Still, he was a leading scientist at one of the country's leading Bioengineering firms, PhorTech, which specialized in special surgeries for people who wanted things to be different. God above knew Robert wanted things to be different. He'd been wallowing in misery ever since Rhonda had passed. Everyone in the office could see it, but none really knew what to do about it.
"So, how are you today, Robert?" asked Clive, one of Robert's good friends from down in R&D. Robert was a bit curious what Clive was doing all the way on the 33rd floor of the Chicago complex, and was even more curious about the grin plastered all over his friend's face.
"Uh... pretty good, I guess. What brings you all the way up here, Clive?"
"Well, me and the boys down in R&D were working on our various projects and made a few breakthroughs. So, we go to thinking." That grin widened. "How'd you like to see Rhonda again?"
Robert blinked in bemusement. See Rhonda again? It was impossible. She was dead. His mouth worked, opening and closing, showing his shock. Clive just gave a knowing smile.
"I know, it seems impossible, right? Well, just come with me, and we'll show you what we're talking about." He turned from the door to Robert's lab, and Robert took a few minutes to scramble to his feet and follow his friend.
Taking the elevator to the 11th basement floor, the infamous hole of the R&D department, Clive and Robert stepped into the large underground lab, outfitted with medical equipment, computers, and all other necessary scientific instruments.
Clive ushered Robert into a nearby room, sitting him down. He hastily pulled out a folder and handed it to Robert. Robert opened it, still in shock, and stared in confusion at the nondisclosure agreement sitting before him.
"Sign it," Clive urged, and Robert mechanically did as his friend suggested. Snapping the folder closed, Clive whisked it into a filing cabinet draw, snapping that closed as well. He then put on the same grin again, and walked over to the cabinet at the back of the room. He pulled out a syringe and a bottle of heavy sedative, drawing out a measure of it into the syringe. Robert watched him, eyes wide, as Clive approached and slid the needle into his arm. "Night night, my friend," he said jovially as he depressed the plunger and administered the sedative, and Robert slipped away into unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he was very disoriented. He had no idea where he was, or how long he'd been unconscious for. What was it Clive had said? He could see Rhonda again? Why had he needed to be drugged for that?
He tried to sit up, but found he couldn't. He also realized, for the first time, that there was a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down, and noticed that there were mountains underneath the bed-sheets. He blinked in confusion, the surge of adrenaline giving him the strength to rise up. The cover fell, revealing a pair of very large, tanned breasts hanging from his chest, with puffy, dark nipples. They had to be at least E cups.
Next, he noticed that his whole body was hairless. Also, his skin had darkened by several shades, to a light brown, a dark tan coloring his skin. He next noticed that generous tumbles of hair flowed down his back, whereas before he'd only had a small crop of hair he'd kept short. Jumping out of bed, he went to the full-length mirror and gasped.
Staring back at him was a perfect replica of Rhonda, supple skin, large breasts, flared hips, firm rear, long, gorgeous hair, bright green eyes, cute button nose, full, luscious lips, and short, 5'4" stature. His jaw dropped as he realized that he now looked like his wife. He let out a croak, which came out as a feminine squeak. Even his voice sounded like hers!
He could barely think straight. Just what had happened to him in the bowels of R&D? He searched around frantically and found a letter written in Clive's hand on the foot of the bed. Tearing it open, he began reading.
Hey there buddy! Sorry to pull a fast one on you, but when the Director heard about the breakthrough we'd made, he wanted it tested out ASAP! So, naturally, we tried it on you. You've been so down lately that we all agreed you needed a few changes in your life. So here they are! You're now a completely perfect replica of Rhonda, down to the DNA level. I'll explain the specifics later. As of now, since Rhonda has been declared dead, your new identity is Reba Roseland, Rhonda's long lost twin sister! Everything has been set up. Credit cards, drivers license... all the needed documents. Welcome to your new life, buddy!
P.S. If you want to keep your job, you might want to talk to the Director on Monday. Said he wants to see you or something.
Robert could barely believe what had happened. The letter fell from shaky hands, and he sat, his new legs suddenly too weak to hold him up. He also began to realize, with some disquiet, that he could no longer call himself 'Robert' or a 'he'. Now, he was Reba, a she, and would apparently be that way the rest of his life.
Getting up unsteadily, Reba went to her desk, picking up her phone. The display told her it was early Monday morning. Hadn't Clive's letter said the Director wanted to see her today...?
Jumping in panic, Reba dashed to Rhonda's dresser and began opening drawers. Lacy, frilly, sexy lingerie and undergarments popped out, in all different colors and styles. Picking up a few of the bras, she noticed that her breasts were the same size as her late wife's. She let out a little sigh and clipped the red bra she'd been holding onto herself, turning it around and slinking her arms into the straps as she'd seen her wife do so many times. She then pulled out a matching pair of panties, which had a garter belt attached.
She stepped into them, and pulled them into place over her clean-shaven slit, the silky fabric causing her to shiver. She then sat and rolled a pair of thigh-high panty hose up her thin, supple legs, attaching them to the garter. Walking over to the closet, she pulled out a smart looking women's business suit and got into it.
She sized herself up in the mirror. She realized she looked exactly like her late wife would have before going off to the office. Rhonda had never needed make-up, but usually put on a bit of ruby red lipstick to make her lips stand out. Reba pulled out a pair of high heels and crammed her feet in, wondering how women routinely walked in them, and went into the bathroom, uncapping Rhonda's favorite lipstick and applying it to her lips as she'd seen her wife do so many times.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she wondered how it had come down to this. Yesterday, she had been Robert Cunningham, one of the lead scientists in PhorTech. Now, she was Reba Roseland, job to-be-decided.
She grabbed her wallet and car keys, then realized she needed a purse. That would be humiliating, carrying a purse about, but then, she looked every bit a woman, so it wouldn't raise a brow. She stuffed her things into a small black leather one, and walked out the door, unlocking her car and sliding in. She started it and drove to PhorTech headquarters in downtown Chicago.
"Ms. Reba Roseland, for Director Collins," she stammered, not used to her high, feminine voice yet. The secretary regarded her curiously for a moment, then checked the datebook that was spread out on the desk before her. She smiled and nodded. "Ah yes, Mr. Collins is expecting you, Ms. Roseland. Go right on in."
Reba took a shaky breath and walked to the large oak door, opening it and stepping inside, closing it quietly behind her. She walked towards the desk, before stopping.
Mr. Collins turned around in his chair. He was a large, broad shouldered African American, with very short hair and deep brown eyes. His large hands were clasped together, fingers interlaced, and he studied the woman before him with critical eyes.
"Why hello there, Robert," he said, then broke into a grin, "or should I say, Reba? When Clive brought this idea to me, I thought he was making things up... but clearly, he was not. You look just like her. Very, very good," he said, his smile turning a bit sinister. "Now, as I'm sure you know, all the credit cards you were given are company funded, with no limit. Also, you will keep your job and lab, just with a new name and staff. It has already been taken care of. However," he said, pausing as he tapped his chin, "the cost of the operation, however successful, was enormous, and giving you those cards to use at your whim will also undoubtedly be very expensive. As a result, some form of payment must be rendered to make up for it."
Reba opened and closed her mouth, not really sure how to respond as she absorbed all the new information. Collins smiled, and turned the chair to the side. He motioned for Reba to come around the desk. She did, standing a few steps back from Collins, hands clasped in front of her. He smiled that sinister smile again, and then unzipped the fly of his dress pants with one hand.
Reba was shocked. What was he doing? Her fears were soon realized as he pulled out his hunk of black meat, already partially hard and growing. He stroked it to its full 12 inch length, and motioned her closer. When she didn't move, he spoke. "To pay me back for all I've done for you, you're going to let me fuck you. I've wanted your wife ever since she started working here, but you got her first. And now I'll settle for just her body, if not her mind. Now, get on your knees and suck my cock. The adjustments Clive made to your body chemistry should have made the pheromones of a man irresistible to you."
Reba shuddered. Even as he spoke, she could feel her knees growing weak as the smell of his junk reached her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, the thick, musky scent of cock making her brain reel. As if in a stupor, she dropped to her knees and crawled over, coming to a stop between his legs, looking up at him. "Open your mouth," he said, and she obeyed immediately, her mouth opening.
He placed the tip of his cock on her lips, seeing what she would do. Reba was shocked when, without and prompting, her lips covered the thick black meat in their warmth, and she began to greedily suckle on the head of his dick. Collins murmured in approval, and Reba, her body seeming to take control, began bobbing her head, taking more and more of the thick veiny beast deep into her throat. Apparently another addition had been lack of a gag reflex, as it did not trigger, even when Collins' dick slid into her throat and her nose hit his groin.
He groaned with pleasure as he took hold of Reba's hair, allowing her to please him at her own pace. The technology Clive had designed really was remarkable. They'd make a fortune.
He came back to reality as he felt Reba snake her hand into his pants, fondling his large, cum-filled sac dangling under his cock. He felt the cum churn within them, and in no time, Reba's mouth was flooded with wave after wave of sticky sweet sperm. She swallowed it down greedily, surprising herself. The initial splash on her tongue had startled her, but once she got a taste, she knew it was over. She drank every drop down as quickly as she could get it from the tap, and pulled off his cock once it was done spewing, blinking up at him as she wiped her mouth clean.
Collins smiled down at the white whore, knowing he was going to enjoy her new pussy even more than her mouth. He stood, cock still proudly hard, and motioned to his desk. "Get up and bend over, slut. I'm taking your virginity." Reba blinked in surprise for a moment, then her eyes watched the swaying and bobbing cock before her, and she lulled into something of a trancelike state. She rose, went to the desk and bent over it, her thick, firm rear in the air. Collins spanked her roughly, drawing a grunt, and then lifted her skirt, smiling at the red panties and garter.
"Good choice," he said, and pulled the silk panties to the side, revealing her dripping, virgin slit. He lined the head of his aching cock up with it, and then began to push in without so much as a word of warning. Reba cried out, the pain of the thick invader hitting her instantly. He laughed as she tried to claw her way away, but pushed forward, easily punching through her maidenhead as he plowed on, finally hilting himself deep inside her, impaling her on his thick member, the head pushing open her cervix.
Reba was lost in a delirium of pain and pleasure. She'd never felt anything like this before. She felt so full, so complete, the thick cock fulfilling her in a way she'd never before thought possible. As Collins pulled out, she let out a low whimper, and upon his next thrust, a low moan. He grinned as he picked up his pace, beginning to fuck the slut even harder. She let out louder and louder moans, her hips humping back against him to take all of his cock into her greedy pussy, recently deflowered.
"I've wanted to fuck your wife like this for a long, long time," he grunted as he slid in and out of her like a piston, fucking her for all she was worth. "Now it's like I get to, without any kind of ramifications. You're such a good slut, aren't you? Tell me how much you love cock."
Reba could barely think straight with all the new feeling surging through her. Her body convulsed as she went through her first orgasm, all her muscles clamping down and milking the thick meat inside her. "I love cock!" she screamed in pleasure, a bit of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth. "I love cock so much!"
He grunted and smiled, and hilted himself inside her one more time, before he felt the load in his balls churn and surge up his shaft, flying from him to fill up her womb, the head of his cock penetrating her cervix so that his seed could be deposited directly into her.
She froze as she felt the thick, creamy load land inside her, her belly warmed by the treat inside her. She instantly loved the feeling of slick, slimy sperm inside her, and knew she'd never get over the pleasure the sloshing of it gave her.
Pulling out of her, Collins put his tool away and zipped up his fly. He threw a folder down in front of her. "Sign it," he said. "I've wanted your wife for a long time, and now you're going to be my wife. Once you sign that, it's official. I own you now, bitch, and if you sleep with any other man, you're dead."
Reba was in shock after the fierce fucking. This news stunned her. She didn't want to be married to this man. She didn't want to be married to a man, period. But it appeared she had no choice. She picked up a pen and signed the paper, Reba Roseland.
"Good girl," Collins said, slapping her ass possessively. It did send a pleasurable tingle down her spine to be treated like that. "Now, get fixed up and go to work. Can't have you skipping out because you love my cock so much."
Reba stood, fixing her panties and skirt, and adjusted her hair, before she picked up her purse and left the office.
The day was slow and boring, and once it was over, Reba headed home. She found movers at her house, packing up the last of the boxes of her things. She asked one where they were taking it, and he replied, quizzically, to her husband's house. Collins must have already pushed the papers through. She groaned and drove to his house, and watched the movers unload all her things into his large house.
He came down the stairs, grinning at her. He slapped her ass again, squeezing it as well, like he owned her. "Now, babe, you'll have your own bedroom. I like to sleep with lots of women, and I don't want you to see it. But remember. You sleep with any other men, and you're dead." He flicked her nipple as he passed, and the movers put her boxes in her room. She sullenly unpacked, putting everything away, and noticed Collins had bought some new, skanky underwear and outfits for her. Shaking her head, she finished putting things away and climbed into bed, just a little nightie the only clothing on her body.
The next day, Saturday, Reba woke late in the afternoon, and decided to head to church. She went through her morning ritual – shower, dry off, masturbate – and then picked out her clothes for the day. Collins had generously provided her with street clothes – and most of them were worthy of a prostitute. Still, she picked out a jade green thong and matching bra, then a short plaid skirt and a green blouse, which barely buttoned up over her big tits. All in all, she looked like an older, more whorish Catholic school girl. Ironically, the thought pleased her.
She got into her car and drove to the nearby church she frequented, heading to the confessional booth. A nearby priest did a double take when he saw her, and hurried to meet her there. He stopped her before she could enter, and smiled. "Why hello there, my child," he said, his eyes trailing up and down her body. "Come with me, to somewhere a little more private where I can listen to your confession in detail."
She followed him into one of the cells the priests used when staying in the church overnight, though this one was a bit better, with a bigger bed and a few more chairs. They sat at the table, and the priest motioned for her to give her confession.
She spoke quietly, talking about the operation and how she had an unrelenting craving for cock, and more importantly, sperm, and how her new 'husband' would not allow her to sleep with any other men to get her fill. The priest listened with wide eyes, and adjusted his robes uneasily.
Finally, once she was finished, he nodded gravely. He rose, pacing before her. "That is quite a troubling story, my child," he said gravely, hands clasped behind his back. Finally, he stopped in front of her, clapping his hands dramatically. "After much though, there is only one thing I can think of to rectify the situation," he said, and opened his robes, his cock dangling between his legs.
Reba's eyes widened at his bold move. "I thought priests took vows of celibacy?" she inquired, the musk of cock already beginning to drive her wild. The priest shrugged. "We do, but they're more for show than practice."
Reba nodded absently and sank to her knees before the priest, her hand reaching out and taking hold of him, stroking the flaccid flesh. It quickly hardened in her hand, a slim six inches, but she didn't care. There was cock before her, and sperm to come. She wanted it back. She leaned forward, taking it in her mouth, and immediately began bobbing her head, sucking it into her throat with no effort at all.
"Oh my... that's good, my child, very good..." the priest moaned, swaying as she sucked him like a pro. She squeezed and rolled his balls between her fingers, lost in a cock-daze. He soon jerked forward, spurting seed into her eager mouth, and she drank it down greedily.
The priest, panting, watching her lick her lips and rise, smiling. His eyes widened as she pulled off her green thong and went to the bed, getting on her hands and knees, looking back over her shoulder at him. "Show me what a man of God can do," she purred, her firm ass up in the air.
The priest hurried over, not even bothering to take off his robes. He got up behind her, lining his prick up with her pussy, and then pushed in, sighing happily as her silken tunnel enveloped him. She moaned in ecstasy as cock filled her needy slit, and she began humping back against him, his cock sliding in and out of her as she moved, filling her over and over again. She had small, micro orgasms over and over, moaning and crying out like a whore in heat, and the priest bit his lip in pleasure as her tight, wet orifice took him in again and again.