Recovery

He gasped, and I was so glad that I saw his face doing it. It didn't really taste like much. Pretty much just skin, the same as licking a finger, but maybe with a little bit of a funk on top of that. Not terrible. Definitely worth how happy I was making him.

I broke eye contact to look at what I was doing. No point in drawing this out: he was ready for it, I was ready for it. There was his cock. Stiff, straight. It had seemed so small before, but up close, it looked much more imposing and powerful. I felt kind of weak: this rod of Max's had all the power here, and I was enveloped in it. It felt a little bit scary but mostly comfortable, secure. I knew my friend wouldn't take advantage of me. I could trust him, give myself to him like this.

I slid my mouth around him. Here I was, on my knees in lingerie, serving this man's pleasure. It felt great; it was exactly where I wanted to be. I felt myself get fully hard, my tip poking out of my panties. But that wasn't the dick I was worried about right now. I slid my mouth slowly over the rest of him, breathing hard through my nose in excitement.

When I got him all the way in my mouth, my nose hitting his stomach, his head just tickled the back of my throat enough for me to find it uncomfortable. I backed off immediately, starting to gag a bit, but didn't ease up at all. To the contrary: I was all in on this, bringing my tongue into the action. I kind of went a little bit wild, using a hand to gently massage his balls while the other one grasped tightly to his leg. I ran my head back and forth, gradually getting him into my throat without gagging too much, using my tongue and my hand and changing my angle. He ran his hands through my hair, and I frequently looked up to make eye contact with him. I was loving this, and so, clearly, was Max.

Before long, I felt him getting tense, and he cried out as his first shot of semen went into my mouth. This tasted...well, not awful, but not as good as I might have hoped, and by reflex I started pulling my mouth back, but his hands were suddenly on the back of my head, pulling me back in as he kept coming in my mouth. I swallowed out of sheer necessity to avoid what felt like drowning. This was the first moment where I felt really out of control, and though I really wanted to be free of his grasp, at the same time it was totally sexy.

He finished and let go of me. I pulled off of his softening dick, coughing a bit. I had swallowed most of it, but noticed I spat a bit out on his leg. Once I stopped coughing, I don't know why, but I licked that up too. It didn't taste very good, but for some reason I just wanted all of it inside of me.

Max had collapsed back onto the bed, and I leaned against his legs for support. I thought I had mostly sobered up, but I suddenly felt really weak, and the room was spinning around me. I somehow pulled myself up onto the bed beside him, rather than just falling to the floor.

For some reason, I have no idea why, I got an image of my head of a girl. She was athletic-looking, pretty and thin, probably eighteen or twenty, with black hair, caramel skin, smallish but very perky breasts and a great bubble butt; maybe Latina. She was wearing the same kind of black lingerie that I had on, but it actually fit her, and she had a bit of cum spattered across her face. She was ridiculously attractive, but I don't know why I thought of her just then.

A warm glow in my stomach and a pretty image in my head, I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * * *

I woke up with, surprisingly, not all that much of a hangover. Given how much I had drank...

Wait, why was I in Max's room? And what the fuck was I wearing?

Oh. Right.

I pulled the robe tighter around me, wondering what had gotten into me last night. I wasn't gay. I had never thought about guys that way. What the fuck? How could I have done that?

But thinking back to it, it still felt super hot.

Still, I got up. Max wasn't here anymore: maybe he'd moved after I fell asleep, I guess. I went across the hall to my room: no Max there either. I took off the robe and the lingerie, threw on a t-shirt, boxers, some gym shorts. I don't know why, but I kept the pendant on, tucked under my shirt.

I wandered out towards the kitchen in search of water when I saw it: my crutches, leaning against the wall. I had just walked maybe twenty steps without them, and not even noticed that I wasn't using them. That was unheard of on a regular day.

I shifted my weight a little bit, experimentally, and felt a familiar little pang of pang from my leg. But it seemed...less. Maybe I was just numb from all the drinking.

Anyway, I grabbed one crutch and used it to head into the kitchen. I might not be as hung over as I would have expected, but that didn't mean that I didn't want some fucking eggs.

* * * * * * *

After breakfast, I found Max outside, already going through his workout routine. I watched him for a bit, and couldn't help but think that it was starting to work. He was already looking way more comfortable with the pushups, and when he finished and tossed his shirt off to jump in the lake and start his swim across and back, I thought he maybe even had a little definition showing on his biceps. This was really working for him.

When he finished, I was waiting for him on the beach with a lemonade. He gratefully took it, and we went to go sit in the shade for a while.

Normally, this time we'd be shooting the shit, talking about whatever. Today we were both quiet. It wasn't a horrible awkward silence like you get sometimes - I at least was feeling pretty comfortable just sitting there with him - but I definitely felt too strange about yesterday to bring it up, yet didn't really feel like I could talk about anything else.

The rest of the day kind of passed like that. We lazed around on the beach all day, cooked dinner, ate in relative silence. We were getting pretty low on food, and I commented that we'd have to go on a grocery run soon. He nodded.

Pretty much right after dinner, Max went into his room and shut his door without saying anything. Frustrated, I sat in the living room for a while trying to read the novel I was going through, but totally unable to focus. The fifth time I restarted the same page, I gave up, shut off the lights, and walked to Max's room.

I paused at the door for a moment, debating whether I should knock or not, when I heard something from inside. A thump, or something. Then I heard it again...and again. And again, pretty fast, rhythmically.

Max was jacking off.

I stood there for a minute, knowing I should leave, but not doing it. Instead I found myself kind of leaning my ear against the door, listening. His bed was pretty close to the door, and if I listened closely, I thought I could hear him panting too.

When the thumping stopped, and I heard a deep, contented sigh, I padded away to my own bed, pulled off my clothes, and started doing the same thing.

Usually when I masturbate, I watch porn. With no internet up here, so far I'd been remembering particularly good times with exes, thinking about videos I'd seen before, stuff like that. It took longer for me that way, and I'd been considering picking up a magazine or two on our upcoming grocery run. That had a certain old-school charm, and I was kind of looking forward to it.

This time, I just started without really thinking about anything in particular. After a minute, though, I realized what I was thinking about: last night with Max.

Surprised at myself, I started forcing myself to think about other things. My ex Sandy, for one. She had great tits, a killer sexy smile, and had looked so hot the few times she had gone down on me. But somehow, thinking about her blowing me shifted again into Max. I kept drifting back to how hot that had been. Fine, whatever, it was the first real sexual thing I'd done in months, it made sense that I'd be thinking about it. When I felt myself getting close, though, I made myself think about a girl: coming while thinking about Max's dick was a step too far.

As I came, I caught myself making a little moan, and cut it off by biting my bottom lip. Lying there in the afterglow, I realized the girl that I'd been envisioning when I finished was the same one I'd seen last night, that cute athletic-looking Latina girl. I wondered where she'd come from; she wasn't anyone I knew, or could remember seeing anywhere.

I had a fair amount of semen splattered over my stomach and chest. I also noticed that I was still wearing the gold chain with the flower pendant; it was lying on my little patch of chest hair between my pecs, right next to a big glob of semen. I reached out to make sure it didn't get hit and, without really thinking about what I was doing, scooped up the cum on my finger and popped it in my mouth.

It tasted...sweeter than Max's had, maybe, but still not great. Even so, something about it just felt satisfying, and before I knew it I was scooping up the rest.

I drifted off to sleep with a warm glow in my belly and more images of that mysterious girl in my head.

* * * * * * *

When I showered the next morning, I shaved out of habit, even though I didn't really need to; there wasn't really much stubble, even though it'd been a day and a half since the last time I shaved (dressing up for Max).

After I did, I was checking myself out in the mirror a bit. Had my little tuft of chest hair always looked so...strange? It just really looked odd, sitting there. On a whim, I shaved it off too.

While I was doing that, the big patch in my armpits happened to catch my eye, and seemed out of place too. Why not, right? I ran out, grabbed a small pair of scissors, and trimmed then shaved my armpits. Then, I was kind of on a roll, and shaved the "happy trail" on my stomach, then trimmed and carefully shaved my pubes. Then I got the weird hairs on my ass-cheeks. Once I was this far in, I went ahead and did my arms and legs too. I nicked myself a few times there, but nothing too awful.

Well, that was that. Nothing really left to shave. I had never really done anything to my body hair since it first came in. Weird. It felt...good, though.

I looked good, too. I had lost some of the definition to my abs at some point, probably all the lounging around, but I looked sleek, smooth, taut. I had a nice tan going, my hair was a little darker than usual, and it somehow brought out the rich brown in my eyes.

Wait, what the fuck? My eyes are supposed to be blue. Maybe a little bit of green, like my dad. Definitely not brown.

How are my eyes brown now?

I took a closer look at myself again in the mirror. My facial features looked pretty much like I'm used to, but...was my nose smaller, a little pointier? My chin a little softer? Are my nipples bigger than they used to be?

And I haven't been naked outside, other than that bit of nighttime skinny dipping. So why is my crotch almost the same tan as the rest of my skin?

An image flashed in my head. An athletic-looking Latina girl, with big brown eyes, and skin and hair color both just a little darker than mine is now.

My hand went to the flower pendant I still had around my neck.

Did...did it really work? Max had just said he would take a little of my masculinity. Did that mean half-turning me into some specific Latina girl, for some reason?

I ran out to go ask him what the fuck was going on.

* * * * * * *

I'd been shaving and stuff for a long time, and Max had gotten up before me anyway. I again found him already doing his morning workout routine, this time doing pullups on a tree branch. Shirtless pullups. He was so much better at them than he had been even a few days ago; could he really have improved that much in such a short time? Were his shoulders really that broad before?

I stood there watching him for a minute, caught up in watching the muscles along his arms flex. It had started as wondering if he had changed too, but pretty quickly I think it just turned into appreciating his new form. He was still skinny, and definitely not super-ripped or anything, but just...less so.

Max dropped down to the ground, panting, and turned towards me. As he did, I suddenly realized two things:

First, that I had run out here totally naked except for the pendant that was still around my neck.

Second, that I had *run* out here. My leg was definitely hurting now, but I hadn't run like that in months. I thought I never would again. If I'd tried that a week ago, I for sure would have collapsed.

Max opened his mouth a bit, clearly surprised at seeing me standing there, naked, without warning. Before he said anything, I said dumbly, holding the pendant up in one hand, "Holy shit, this thing really works."

* * * * * * *

We sat on the stoop outside the cabin, and Max told me more about the pendant. He was surprised, and a little upset, that I had seen that girl when we had used it before, and especially that I had seen her again when I masturbated with it. Apparently she was some friend of his cousin's that he'd had a major crush on forever, and often thought about when he jacked off.

"But why did I see her?"

"Well, I guess, the thing is..." He paused for a moment. "When the pendant takes masculinity from someone, it...turns them into a woman. The person taking the masculinity can choose who. I was trying not to do that too much. It takes a few times, apparently, and it's helped along a lot if you say some words and really picture who you want them to be. So I was trying not to do that, but I guess I'd kind of been imagining her...you know, while you were...yeah."

I nodded, taking it all in. It was fucking crazy, but so was my eyes suddenly changing color. "So you can make it anyone?"

"I don't know, I guess so? Any woman, probably."

I had a stupid, hare-brained idea, but the possibility of it working was too exciting for me to wait. "Okay. Good. Max, you're going to use this to get me to run again."

* * * * * *

I left Max sitting on the stoop while I went back inside and put on the underwear again. I couldn't help but notice that it seemed to fit me a little better this time. I hadn't been looking for it before, but I think my cock had shrunk a little bit, and my pecs had become a little more perky, boob-like. I needed a little less stuffing than I had before.

After I put the bright red lipstick on, I checked myself out in the mirror. I'd been pretty drunk the last time, but I think I definitely looked better this time than I had before: no chest hair next to the bra or armpit hair visible over there. A little bit softer features, bigger eyes. I was still pretty broad-shouldered, but outside than the bulge in the panties, I could almost see myself passing as a mannish woman.

Well, hopefully this idea wasn't awful. I took a deep breath, gave myself an awkward smile in the mirror, and headed outside.

Max was sitting on the stoop, wearing just his swimsuit, awkwardly looking off at the lake while I walked up behind him.

I walked in front of him, grabbed a hand, pulled him up to standing. He looked at me briefly, unsure of himself. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile, then dropped to my knees.

I undid the string on his bathing suit and gave the suit a little tug to get down over his hips. There was his dick, looking at me right in the face. Was it bigger than last time? He was pretty hard already, so I didn't even use my hands, just leaned forward and gave the head a little lick.

It jumped when I touched it, and Max let out a little groan.

I worshiped at the altar of Max's cock. It was definitely bigger than before: it filled my mouth up comfortably when I pushed myself all the way down it, then even went into my throat a little ways. I gagged a bit, but it felt wonderful, knowing that I was submitting myself to his pleasure. I would have happily done this again even without an end in mind. Hell, I realized, I'd probably take the pendant off and do it again, just for fun.

I ran my hands up and down his legs and his tight, powerful ass, pulling him even deeper into me. I clawed at Max, losing myself in him.

But then I felt him getting close, and I took my mouth off of him for a moment to look up at him meaningfully and say, "Remember."

He nodded, holding up my phone towards his face. Then, a bit of a sheepish expression on his face, he slapped his dick across my cheek. I yelped in surprise, and took him back in my mouth to finish the job. He put a hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair for a moment more until suddenly he gasped, and then he held my head in place as he came.

Unlike last time, I didn't need to be held in place, though: I eagerly gulped it down, enjoying the feeling of the warm substance filling me up. Mine last night had definitely been sweeter. His was saltier, maybe richer-tasting. I liked it.

After a few last licks to make sure he was cleaned all the way off, I took my head off and picked up the piece of paper Max had left on the steps next to him. As he collapsed onto the steps, I felt my eyes fluttering and belly full, but managed to read from the paper:

"Max's seed is in me, changing me, growing my femininity. In exchange for this delicate gift, I give my manhood to the giver, to Max. In the name

of Goddess Addyessa, I pray, make me into the female image of the

giver's choosing. Let it be."

My job done, I dropped the scrap of paper and sat on the ground, resting my head on Max's lap which was invitingly right in front of me. I heard his voice loud and strong above me as he rested a hand softly on my shoulder:

"I pray to thee Addyessa, to the one who has willingly given me his manhood,

make her into the image which now inhabits my mind. Let the agent of this

change be my seed, which the little one now hungers for. And as her manhood

flows to me, let my feminine energies flow into her. And let her name be Casey."

My name was already Casey, of course. One of the advantages of a gender-neutral name.

As Max finished, I felt a surge of energy through my body, tensing my muscles starting at my head and moving down. The image that came into my head this time wasn't the friend of Max's cousin. Instead, it was me.

That is, it was a girl who looked as much like me as possible. Max had been looking at a picture of me I'd had on my phone for reference. This girl had broad shoulders, a flat chest, mannish facial features and haircut. She looked a lot like me. But, standing there naked, there was one incredibly obvious difference from what I looked like: between her legs was a pretty, tight vagina.

And one other difference: her leg had never been broken.

A warm glow in my belly, I drifted off to sleep with my head on Max's lap.

* * * * * * *

I woke up to Max gently shaking my shoulder. "Casey?" Bleary-eyed, I grumbled but sat up. When I looked up at Max, I was so taken aback I almost fell off the stair I was sitting on.

He was still Max, but he had...filled out. His jawline was more chiseled, his biceps bigger, he had a hint of a six-pack. He was sitting down, but it looked like he might be taller. And his dick, though soft, was undeniably bigger than it had been before. He looked hot.

"Holy shit," I said, then gasped at myself. My voice sounded much, much higher than I was used to.

Max smiled tightly at me and put a hand on my shoulder. It felt big, solid, warm. "Maybe we should go look at a mirror." I nodded, and we both stood up.

Max towered over me. A week ago, I had been almost six inches taller than him; now, that was maybe swapped. With that plus the high voice...fuck, had this all gone horribly wrong?

What's more, when I stood up I felt the panties I had been wearing fell off my hips. Shit, I must have shrank a lot. Fuck, I had been so stupid thinking we could trick whatever the hell this magic was.