The Honeypot Ch. 04

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Robert walked down the street, blushing furiously in his anger. His chest ached and throbbed and his pants were tight against him. The little bitch in the store had patronized him the entire time. Smirking at him as he checked out and left. He'd taken her business card from one of the display cases near the register. It wouldn't take much to find out where she lived and then she'd regret her behavior.

People streamed around him and Robert found his eyes drawn to the men walking nearby. To their crotches. His tongue made a slow circuit against his teeth but the taste of his cum was already gone. His heart hammered in his chest. He couldn't stop wondering what another man's cum would taste like. Robert swallowed several times at the thought of sucking another guy off. The angry blush turned to a deep need and he shivered with the pull of it. Beads of sweat broke out along his forehead.

"I gotta get home," Robert muttered under his breath. "I just-" His apartment loomed above him and Robert fairly ran inside after unlocking the door. The young man rushed up to his room and locked his door behind him. He dropped the expensive bag of clothes to the floor and leaned against his inner wall, panting.

Robert walked unsteadily to his bathroom to splash water on his face. He looked at himself and, again, something felt off. He traced a finger along his cheeks (Were they higher?) down to his chin (Was it softer?) and up to his nose (Was it thinner?) and finally to his eyes. He swore his eyelashes were longer but nothing was immediately obvious.

"Is my hair thicker?" Robert asked, out loud, running his fingers through his hair. As he shifted, he shivered at a twin sensation of pleasure from his chest. The young man slowly took his shirt off, his eyes never leaving the mirror. "Oh. Shit."

Rather than the hard chest he was used to seeing, there were two small breasts dotted with large pink nipples. Robert became awash in a cold sweat as he stared at himself. The fog lifted from his mind and he finally realized what he'd done over the course of the day. Playing with his tiny breasts in the store. Fantasizing about the man in the massage parlor. Eating his own cum. At the thought, he shivered and bit his lip.

Shaking his head to clear the thought, Robert stared at his chest. His chest hair was almost entirely gone. Only a small patch on the middle of his chest, just below his breasts and a line from his belly button to the middle of his chest remained. He carefully touched the skin just under one of the breasts. He expected hard taut muscles (gained from working out constantly) but, instead, touched soft skin. His... breasts... were smaller around than his closed fist and nearly flat against his chest. Both ached and there was a dull throbbing from deep within his chest, just under his breasts.

Looking down, Robert carefully cupped his right breast. The skin of it was extremely soft - softer than any other part of his body and softer than most of the breasts (women's breasts!) he'd played with. While he watched, the darker skin around the right nipple shriveled and moved and twisted and the nipple grew erect. Robert gasped at the feeling of it. He felt himself begin to grow hard from both the sensation and watching it happen.

The young man massaged his breast, carefully avoiding his nipple. The massage helped reduce the ache in the breast but he also found himself involuntarily shifting his feet. It felt really, really good.

Suddenly worried, he stripped down completely and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his cock right where it should be. Robert shivered again and held his sides, arms crossed just under his small breasts. He walked to the bedroom, unaware of the slight sway to his hips and the way his gently curved ass moved as he walked.

I'm fucked. I'm so fucked. It was that bitch at the hotel. It had to have been when she splashed the drink in my face. Whatever was in there is doing this. They have to change me back! They have to- The thought stopped as he remembered his boss talking about the chemist. The very, very dead chemist and how nobody could understand his notes. Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Oh fuck. Maybe that's all. I didn't drink it. Maybe this is it. Maybe that's all it'll do. I can hide these. Hell, I could get surgery for it.

Robert scratched at his smooth, hairless leg. He began to feel a small bit of hope from the nightmare. I can bring the clothes back or just throw them away. I can control myself. This is nothing. I've had worse. I've been through worse. He stood and walked swiftly to the door. Grabbing the black plastic bag, he walked towards the kitchen. I can just keep eating my own cum. I don't need-

Robert stopped. The alien thought had come through naturally, on its own.

No. No I will not. No. I'm not a fucking pervert. I'm not... I'm not gay. That's... that's fucking... The young man shivered again as his tongue rubbed around his teeth. He could almost smell it. His own cum. What did it taste like? He couldn't quite remember anymore. What was it like? Robert dropped the bag and squeezed his body tight. He couldn't remember what his cum tasted like but he could smell it somehow and the taste of it lay just beyond his memory. He felt himself drool a little and his cock stirred. God. It was amazing. The taste of it. And that was just mine. Better than anything else I've ever had.

Robert stroked his limp cock. The fog inside his brain began to return. He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled. The faint smell of his sex was maddening. The young man rubbed his fingers against his lips as he continued to play with himself. His hand came down from his lips to tweak at his nipple and he jumped at the sharp pain and deep pleasure. His cock stirred and he moaned deeply but, still he was limp.

Slowly, unseen, his fingernails lengthened past his fingertips and then stopped. Robert released his nipple to massage his breast again. When the heel of his hand brushed the skin below his breast, chest hair easily came away. I just... I just need to get hard and cum. I just need to taste it. That's all. That's all I need. I just need...

Robert licked his lips as he began to sweat. He grunted as he jerked at his cock. The very edge of the bones of his face melted away and the shape of his face changed again. His smaller nose flared as he began to breathe hard. He pinched at his thick, pink nipple while massaging his breast and a moan escaped his lips. Those same lips swelled minutely.

And, yet, his cock still wouldn't grow hard. Robert let out a shriek of frustration and his voice cracked. He stood there in his living room, panting. He knew he could usually get hard several times but something was off or he'd already spent himself too much. He shivered as his body broke out into another cold sweat. I can't. I can't wait. I have to have it. I have to. I-

The solution crashed into Robert and he smiled tremulously. There was no other choice. None. Rational thought had fled earlier and left him with an insane, overriding need.

Lifting the bag of clothes, Robert brought it to the bed and dumped out the contents. Nearly transparent panties, pink top, black mini-skirt and pink cashmere sweater all fell to the bed. He licked his lips.

Grabbing the thin, lacey panties, Robert stepped into them. He pulled the panties up over his smooth legs, working his hips to let the high-riding panties sit just right. The mini-skirt followed and he felt a thrill from putting it on. He'd guessed at his size in the store and found he'd been right, but just barely. The skirt hugged his hips. Robert looked at the shirt and sweater. He'd forgotten a bra. A deep red blush of embarrassment crept up his neck.

Robert grabbed the sweater. The fabric felt incredibly soft in his hands. He brought it to his face and smiled, rubbing it against his check with his eyes closed. Still smiling, he slipped the sweater over his head and then down, gasping as it slid against his erect nipples.

The young man stepped into the bathroom to look at himself. He blushed shyly at himself in the clothes. He thought he looked... nice. Sexy, even. Robert placed his hands on his hips and turned a little. The back of the skirt bulged out slightly and he grinned at it. The black fabric neatly absorbed the small bump of his limp cock.

"I wish I had a wig," Robert said to his reflection. He pulled at his thicker lips and eyes and then squealed with happiness. Digging through a drawer under the sink, he found an old makeup kit left by a previous lover. It was a small white bag and he found himself unsure of what most of the things were. Still, the red lipstick was fairly obvious.

Removing the cap and twisting the bottom, Robert leaned into the mirror and pushed the lipstick against his lips. It came on too thick at first so he wiped it away and tried again. Softly. In small strokes. He pursed his lips out and used the flat edge of the lipstick to brush up on his top lip to add color. A hint of color. And then, the same to his bottom lip, pulling down as he slowly worked around the lip. It wasn't perfect but he was proud of himself.

Another of the things from the kit looked familiar - a large soft brush. He placed it against his cheek and softly brushed at his skin. Tiny hairs flaked away as the brush swept over his face. He couldn't tell if the brush did anything but he figured it couldn't hurt so he did the other side as well. He thought perhaps he was supposed to coat the brush from something else in the kit but he was afraid of messing up and didn't want to take the time to look. He was practically frantic with desire.

He looked at himself again. A vaguely feminine face looked back at him. He blushed and the face blushed back. It was still him but still just a little different. His chin looked sharper somehow. And his lips looked sexy. He pushed them out in a mock pout and then smiled at himself. He would look better with a woman's wig but he was beginning to care less and less about how feminine he looked.

Under his cashmere sweater, the skin at the bottom and side of his breasts moved. Still mostly flat, his breasts grew larger and the nipples shifted in response. Robert barely noticed.

"Oh no," Robert whined. "Shoes! I didn't get any shoes!" His voice cracked at the end and it changed, growing to a slightly higher pitch. The young man bit his lip and then cursed himself when he remembered the lipstick he was wearing. What should I do? Oh god. I can't wait. I can't go to a store and buy shoes. I just... I can't... I don't care. I don't care, I don't care. Before he could change his mind, Robert grabbed his black jogging shoes and slipped them on.

Robert took his keys, wallet and cellphone and then stamped his foot when he realized he had no pockets. I'll hold onto them. It doesn't matter. And I can put my things on the bar when I get there. The young man smiled as he locked the apartment door and walked into the night.