The Last Shapeshifter Ch. 07

The weeks and months that followed would be some of the hardest of Trevor's life. His main goal was to gain control of his family's curse, to master it, and to do it in isolation from everyone he knew. His father had said this would be impossible, and the words left by his deceased mother in a journal concurred. The only thing that worked was time, and lots of it. They both said it would take a hundred or more years until he could control himself around people who were aroused. But Trevor had youthful optimism, and plunged into the wide world with enough hope and money to sustain him for many decades.

His second goal was to confront those his mother had said were his enemies. He was psychically connected to them. He had a vague sense of how far away each of them were, and he knew that their numbers had grown. At the rate they were multiplying, their contact would be inevitable. Hopefully, they would all be like Lance, just a bunch of lust filled neanderthals. Or they could hold the key to his first goal. Or they could be his undoing. He would have to meet one of them eventually.

With these things in mind, he had set off from his hometown, and things almost immediately went south. His first temporary home had been a run down motel that most people would have driven by. Trevor thought its rough exterior would guarantee him a bit of privacy. He wanted to pick a more permanent place to hole up, but to do that, he wanted to create a detailed map of all the places the enemy was, and try to track their movements. Using a map he picked up at a truck stop, he spent the first few weeks trying to pinpoint every psychic link he had to the others his parents warned him about.

One day in, and he was proud of the headway he was making. It was definitely a challenge, mainly because the psychic threads that connected them were all in his mind. They couldn't be measured to scale with a ruler. He had to judge them by the thickness of the thread, and the direction they went. That was all he had. Tracking their movements would be harder, but still he thought he'd have them all pinpointed more or less in a few days.

The next day his progress slowed considerably. Trevor's father had warned him that his mother had needed to be a sexual release for someone every few days, sometimes more. Trevor hadn't wanted to hear about his parents' sex life, even if it did concern his curse, so he had hadn't given that much thought. And he hadn't needed to once he had started crashing at Sabrina's and Max's. He had been having sex with one or both of them every night, a slave to their lust. He had been driven by their desires and shapeshifted into their fantasies, not fully understanding that it had kept his own hunger at bay. Only too late did he realize that regular sex with his friends had been keeping him sane.

Around mid morning, he felt the urge to find and please someone. It seemed to grow stronger, even though he hadn't touched anyone and had confined himself to his motel room. It was like a mental itch that came with a side of constant erection. He tried to combat that by shapeshifting into a woman, but that meant he could never sit down because he'd leave a wet spot. Trevor tried copious amounts of masturbation. He reasoned he had been pleasing his friends all the time, but now it was his turn to fulfill a few fantasies.

He turned on the television for some inspiration. He was about to get comfortable on the bed, when he got another idea. There was a cheap mirror that hung on one of the walls, and he positioned it carefully on top of a dresser next to the television. This way he'd be able to see himself, or rather, who he'd become. As Trevor sat down on the edge of the bed, he told himself this was only a short break. He'd get back to working on his map soon. He was just so damn horny.

The screen flickered to life and Trevor saw a woman giving the weather. She wasn't a knockout, but was still very attractive. She had straight, shoulder length blonde hair and wore plenty of makeup that had been expertly applied. She wore a tight blue dress that showed no cleavage, which was a shame because she appeared to be hiding a killer rack. Trevor smiled as his body shifted. He didn't have to play the guessing game with people's bodies. He could know a person's body intimately as if it were his own, because it could be.

His hair lengthened, his frame shrunk, and from his chest protruded fantastic breasts. He hadn't bothered with the blue dress, but went right to seeing the weather woman in the buff. Trevor began to copy her movements on the screen as she made sweeping gestures with her arms to indicate a cold front coming in. Trevor's eyes darted between the screen and the mirror. It was a little comical to see the very professional woman giving her report on the left, and the same woman, very naked and with her legs spread, but trying to use the same motions on the right. He continued to mirror what he could of her with one hand, as the other began to fondle her body. The breasts were so soft and supple. Her pussy was like velvet. Trevor was well on his way to orgasm when he abruptly changed the channel.

The screen darkened as a nighttime action scene played out. A beautiful woman all clad in skin tight leather was running away from werewolves. She stopped running though, and now she was fighting them, and winning and...she had fangs? It was some old vampire werewolf movie Trevor had never seen. He didn't need to know the story line though to appreciate the dark haired woman's ass in that outfit.

Already the form of the blonde weather woman he'd become was changing. Her legs were suddenly covered by black leather that clung perfectly to his skin. He now had the same outfit, zipped all the way up and covering his slightly smaller but very perky breasts. The mirror showed a perfect copy of the heroine on the screen. Trevor opened her mouth and flashed her vampire fangs. He could have fangs! A delicate finger touched one of the tips of a very sharp tooth. "Ouch!" she exclaimed with the same British accent the actress was using. Trevor was proud of his ability to mimic things like that. If he could touch her, he could know everything about her, but he'd still be able to fool her own mother for a bit.

The movie kept playing but Trevor was only watching the mirror. He unzipped and zipped the front zipper of the slick vinyl top. He teased himself as she revealed cleavage, then no cleavage, then back again. The stunning actress stood up suddenly and turned around, trying to get a good view of her small tight ass in the mirror. Her hand smacked it, filling the small room with a pleasurable whack that hung in the air for a second. Trevor sat back down and the pants disappeared and she began rubbing her clit. Trevor was almost there as he changed the channel again.

This station was doing a biopic on the British royal family. Trevor almost changed the channel because he didn't see how this could be useful to him at that moment. But they weren't focusing on the king and queen as they were at his present time, but as they had been when they were newly wed, before they had ascended to the crown. Queen Kate as she had become known, had been a real stunner. But surely there were other women that Trevor could become...

He had almost clicked the remote to move on, but some other part of him had said hold on. The black leather became a fashionable and proper blue dress. The hair went from black to brown and lengthened considerably as her face changed to match the woman on the screen. As Trevor flashed a smile at the mirror, the woman who would be queen dazzled him. She was elegant, refined, and Trevor seemed to naturally take on her air of sophistication. But he could make her considerably less regal if he wanted. He could debase her, could make her say or do anything.

The royal woman in the mirror stood up as her counterpart waved to an admiring public. The mirror version began to hike up the blue dress, inch by inch. Yes, Trevor could have made it disappear, but this was hotter. Her fingers stopped as she grazed a bit of hair that encased her pussy. In a spot on accent, she declared, "I musn't do this. It's highly improper." But a finger had raised up and found a deliciously sensitive spot. Now the clothes melted away, and a naked Kate tried to continue looking sophisticated and refined while she was completely nude and fingering herself with a frenzy. Her royal highness came loudly.

After a few minutes of foggy bliss, Trevor shifted back to himself. That had been better than any porno he had ever seen. He could make any woman do whatever he wanted. He could take over their life completely. He could ascend to places of power. The world could be his. But... even as the possibilities ran through his mind, they left just as quickly. He couldn't have any of that, because it wasn't what he wanted. His desire, either because of who he was or this curse, was to make others happy. He wanted to be someone else's pleasure. The itch was back, and Trevor found himself unconsciously transforming again. He became aware of what was happening as his erect penis became a wet pussy. It felt wrong to fight it. Why would he? He was in the privacy of his room. He was in control.

Trevor looked in the mirror. The woman who stared back at him was cute, but a bit trashy looking. But it was strange. Trevor didn't recognize her. Had she been someone in the background on the television? That didn't seem right. What did seem right was getting a cock into this pussy. Surely there was a cock close enough to satisfy her. An image popped into her mind. She thought she knew just the guy and where he might be right now.

There was a glass of water behind him on the nightstand. Trevor practically dove for it and threw the liquid into his face. It jolted him, and he felt his male self return. He still had an erection, but some of his self control had come back. He tried to go back to his mapping project. It was harder than before. The threads were there, but then were replaced by his imagination with tits and asses and dicks.

He took a break sooner than he would have liked and tried jerking off the old fashioned way. He did give himself a large pair of knockers to fondle though. He came soon enough, but the itch grew only the tiniest bit weaker. Trevor knew it would roar back to life in no time. He tried mapping again. This pattern repeated itself until evening, but by then, he was spending more time masturbating than mapping. He was exhausted. He hoped that maybe...maybe this was like overcoming an addiction. It would suck for a few days, but he could ride it out, and then he'd be okay.

He tossed and turned for almost an hour before he was able to get to sleep. That's when the dreams began. In them, there was a bevvy of men and women that wanted him. But he wasn't himself in the dreams. He became other people for these conjured strangers. He shapeshifted again and again, finally waking with a start. He looked down at himself in the bed, but couldn't see his feet. There were two large boobs in his way. He went to the bathroom mirror and switched on the light.

A vision of lust looked back at him. Trevor thought the woman he had shifted into looked familiar. Where had he seen her before? The face in the mirror squinted back, and then he remembered. It was that same woman, the cute trashy one he hadn't recognized. Why was he shapeshifting into her again? And were her proportions a little different? He swore her boobs were a little bigger this time and, hm, it looked like she was perspiring a bit. What the fuck was going on? He thought about calling his father, and might have, had a very strong and clear goal not formed in his mind. He needed to suck a dick. Not just any dick, but a very specific dick that belonged to a guy that was nearby.

His pussy was wet again as she imagined wrapping her fingers around it and licking it with her tongue. A feminine hand found its way to her flooded gates. She began fingering herself as this dick seemed to pulse before her in her mind's eye. And then she saw the face that was connected to it. A part of Trevor's mind, a part that barely had control, didn't remember that face. He was fairly certain he had never seen it before. But this fantasy girl he'd become wanted to plant her lips onto that manly face that had a hint of stubble. And then she'd plant those lips somewhere else and start licking and sucking. That was her purpose. That was why she was here.

Trevor awoke with a start, but he was not in bed. He looked down and saw that his hand was on the doorknob of his room. He was hot , sweaty, and naked in the body of a strange horny floozy. He dumped the mostly melted contents of his ice bucket over his head. The mystery woman vanished, replaced by his own self. He toweled himself off, then lay awake for an hour, shaken by what he might have done had he opened that door. He wondered if he should invest in restraints or a sedative. These were his last thoughts before he succumbed once again to sleep.

When he awoke that morning, it was to a mouthful of cum. He began choking and sputtering. He extracted a withering cock from his mouth and tried to gauge what was happening. There was a man above him, sitting in a chair. Trevor recognized his face from when he had first arrived at the motel. It was one of the front desk clerks. Trevor also saw that this was the face that had swam unbidden into his lust filled vision. That face sat above him now and smiled down at him, very pleased with himself.

Trevor took stock of the state he was in. He was on his knees and in the form of the mystery female, at least, he assumed it was her by the size of the tits he was rocking. Trevor was about to ask the clerk what happened, besides going down on him, when memories came flooding in. He remembered falling asleep, but just after dawn, had woken up in this form. She had been driven by a single thought. Go to the man who runs the front desk. He knows what you get up to at this motel, and he's always wanted a piece, but has been too ashamed to ask. So now you're going to ask, really sweetly, if he'll please let you suck his dick. She had left, and done just that. The motel clerk's jaw had dropped and he seemed confused. He said he didn't have any money, and she had said that this was for free for being so sweet to her.

She had sucked him off like a real expert. She had played with his balls while she licked and sucked his shaft. She kept eye contact with him, winking often. And she didn't stop when he shoved his dick down her throat and face fucked her. She began moaning then, and continued to moan until his dick pulsed and erupted into her mouth. Trevor almost gagged at the memory. He needed to leave, and not just the floor he found himself on, but this motel. Less than twenty minutes later, his stuff was packed and he was on the road. His confidence and youthful optimism did not accompany him this time.

Trevor better understood what his father had warned him about now. He needed a regular outlet. His wish was to isolate himself, but he could not do this completely. He knew that now. He would always need a person in close proximity that he could please, or his body would go on autopilot and find a person for him. He took a little solace in being able to control the who, as long as he didn't put off the when.

He didn't just accept all this in a day. He tried to live in denial for as long as he could, but after he came to consciousness after his next compulsive liaison, he found acceptance. He began scheduling his interactions with people, controlling his shapeshifting to the best of his ability. Mostly he was successful. He'd become someone's wet dream at a bar and take them back to motel room that he now changed very often. Or he'd hone in on the desires of a fellow motel patron and spend the night banging in that person's room.

After every encounter, he wondered if this was the time he'd get pregnant, or make someone pregnant. More than anything, he didn't want to pass this curse to his offspring. He refused to let that happen. That stubbornness was the fuel that kept him working towards his goal. Through it all, he never gave up on his map. One of the threads had to have an answer for him.

His frequent hookups did teach him a few things. One was that he didn't shift mid coitus if his partner imagined someone new. Trevor had been terrified of this prospect, as it had happened frequently with his friends. He scanned his mother's journal about this, cursing himself as he did so for still not reading it all. He blamed this partially on having other priorities, and partially because he blamed his mother for the state he was in, and partially because he didn't believe she had done everything to understand their problem. She was helpful in this area though. She had written that a change will always try to conceal itself, even a forced one. The exceptions seemed to be if the person involved already knew of the curse or not. If they didn't, an unconscious shift mid coitus was highly unlikely. His mother did warn, as she often did in her journal, that the others might react differently. She'd heard that was the case, but to Trevor's frustration, she didn't know for sure.

When he wasn't carefully arranging a time where he could be someone's sex slave, he worked on the map. To the best of his knowledge, he had located all the threads. There was quite a bit of guess work, but he was pleased with the result. He had begun to study them closely and tried to look for differences and patterns. He obsessed over them daily, for months, constantly trying to build up his courage to take the next step to encounter one of them.

He confirmed that his mother had been right, the threads had been increasing in numbers. She had written that for thousands of years, there had been only two threads. They were always close together, and had been avoided at all costs. But over two and a half centuries ago, she had checked the psychic link, and a third thread had appeared. Stranger still, it had separated from the two. Nothing changed for a decade, other than the new thread traveled from place to place for a time. Then another thread materialized close to the new one, but it was a dull copper in color, instead of the bright glow of the first three. As the years went by, the bright one spawned more and more copper ones.

His mother had not been able to see the threads' multiplication since she had become pregnant with Trevor, which was probably for the best. There were many more now, but more disturbingly, there were several more that glowed as bright as those first three she wrote of. That was something his mother's journal hadn't warned him about. Either she hadn't taken the time to notice, or didn't think it important, but she had only talked about the fact that three glowed bright. If Trevor was counting right, there were more than twenty.

At present, there were a lot more of the copper ones, well over five hundred. Lance and his mother had been the copper kind. They also hadn't posed a threat to him. Well, Lance had been a terrible blackmailing asshole, but he hadn't been some world ending monster that wanted to eat him the way his imagination had surmised. Trevor hoped that wouldt be the case for all the dull ones, but couldn't be sure until he made contact again. He knew he'd have to eventually. It was something he was dreading and looking forward to, like parachuting from a plane for the first time.

One thing he noticed quickly, was that almost all of the threads didn't seem to move around. Every day he checked on as many as he could, trying to see any patterns. As he himself moved around frequently, this was often a challenge, but he made do. The more time he spent studying them, the more he felt he understood them. The threads were pretty spread out, all over the world in fact, but all nearby at least a few others.