Transdimensional Earbuds Ch. 01

Yet, he was afraid to reveal the fact to Cait. Would she be as helpful if he spilt all of this on her? The matter put a lot of doubt in his mind, and by the end, he came to believe that if he were to tell her, she would at best think him mad. That his head cracked on the floor before he passed out. What's worse, she could be right, he might have been Lacie in truth, but amnesia made a mess of her head. He shook his head and pushed the possibility to the side. No point in piling an existential crisis on top of his troubles. His name was Peter Steward. Lacie was who he pretended to be for the time being.

Lost in thought, Peter came to the present to find himself in a bathtub, already scrubbed his body clean. The heat of the steaming water made the experience relaxing. It almost made him put all issues aside, pulling him closer to heaven with each passing minute. He realised that the pull was also physical as he found himself nearly submerged without realising it.

The topic lurking in his newly possessed brain did the opposite of drowning: it resurfaced at the mention of pleasure. The curiosity over how would it feel different from masturbating with the previously familiar tool drew him in. Curled up, he grasped for his large breasts, which now were free of constraint, floating in clear bathwater. His grip was strong at first but soon weakened to a slow caress. He tried to remember his past fantasies: how he would get the girl next door fucking against her house's window. How she would moan like a bitch in heat, begging to be impaled on his cock, just to be obliged and more. Their fuck would turn to a bout of passionate pumping, so hard the girl would scrub the glass pane clean with her body. As she was out of it, her hips gladly did all the work on her part. And at the peak, he would come, breeding the whore, his cum slipping out of her in slow dribble.

Even when he touched his pussy, he couldn't attain the familiar pleasure. Something was missing in the experience, he felt. The water grew cold after a while, and the previous anxieties caught up back to him, at which moment, he couldn't even concentrate on a single erotic image. Dispirited, Peter then got outside of the tub and dried himself on a white towel. He was let down by the failure.

In contrast, something in him counted that as a win. Not being able to orgasm in the new body made him feel that he didn't submit to his life as a woman. After all, if he was too eager to accept the new life, it might be he instead, who was railed against the wall, shagging random dude. He tensed at the notion. For what exact reason, he was too afraid to find out.

---

The serene days in the village passed with ease as its inhabitants busied themselves with their daily tasks and businesses. As Peter got to know some of them, he soon found out that the place, once a tutorial area, was clear of players. In fact, he was the only adventurer that came to the remote settlement, and the only strangers that came to these parts were either peddlers or vagabonds. The locals sicced their hounds on the latter, yet Lacie was welcome. The monster-killing part of her craft pleased the rural folk.

Peter's first fights with beasts in the woods started two days after he woke up. The initial encounters were limited to the slowest of their bunch, woodfowls, the species best described as an ostrich topped with a head of a kangaroo. Technically, they weren't the game's lowest-level creatures, but other animals either hunted in packs or deftly hid and ambushed in the leafy foliage. The birdlike hybrid was a constant menace that picked chicken eggs and toppled cows, and so the adventurer's effort in eradicating them was genially met.

Swordfighting against them always turned more bloody and gory than Petar had the stomach for at first. After some time, he got used to it, yet it made him wish for the simple abstraction of combat mechanics. The simulated action was also less tiring than the real one, especially with bouncy jugs attached to his torso. The exercise with them was a struggle in and of itself. They jiggled whenever he would jump to slash, dodge or get smacked to the ground, like if they wanted to parrot the actions of the main body, reacting to any shock that wrecked Lacie.

The bother caused by them didn't stop at acrobatics. The breasts attracted all the attention of men and a select few women from the locals. The biggest lecher of them all was Tom, the general merchant, who unfortunately was a person that Peter spoke the most often with. He bought off all cleaved monster trophies. On top of that, he was friends with Cait, often joining in the supper. The meals were evermore awkward since Peter always felt like a third wheel at the table, listening to the merchant and herbalist flirting. There was never a day in which Lacie would leave the dining room without a red flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

Tom's presence and attitude hit some cord that really irritated Peter. The merchant had a handsome face decorated with swept brown hair and dark red eyes. The housewives and girls around all but wooed the man, perpetually looking at him with gleamy joy. And his patient, smiling answer was the infuriating thing of it all, which just embellished the flirts more. The wide smirk didn't spare Lacie, making her sheepishly search for a way out.

The man also did his laundry outside, bare-chested, exposing lean body carefully shaped by toned muscles, glistening in the summer ardour. Each time he did this, he had made a whole spectacle, in which other male youths would join, also naked from belt up. Some of the men had interpreted the position of the belt to be lower than it was normal. Just high enough not to be improper. Not that the main attraction needed it to enchant the onlookers. He had enough in stock without resigning to risque displays.

By the third week, the offworlder couldn't cross the village without feeling that unnerving itch near the man. It was looks, gasps, giggles and dallying that seemed to drive Lacie mad. The outsiders often laughed at her timid reactions to the healthy country vigour. So they goaded her with various favours just to get her as close to the big shot as possible. The expressions she wore had been worth any price.

On the 18th day of Peter's stay, he had quite enough of all the stress piling inside. He decided that day to work hard to the point of exhaustion, too tired to even care about stress, and enough to instantly fall to the tranquil lull of the long, restful sleep.

The thorn in the plan was Tom's usual supper visit, which unnerved the adventurer again, but after the meal finished and the chatting quieted down, he excused himself to his room, giving the tiredness as a reason. His bedroom was next to Cait's own, with the walls thin enough to hear the herbalist humming whilst brushing her long hair. The gaps in privacy aside, it was suitable accommodation for Peter that came with a bookcase as extra.

Next to the emptied mug of ale, the thick encyclopedia was put on the desk. The shadows outside were by now moulded whole to the darkness of the night. Peter had to turn a faint magical light to study the book. It took him a good hour, but he finally became tired and set his feminine body on the bed. To relax, he drew deep breaths, breathing in through the nose and letting air out of the full lips. The veil of exhaustion helped him, shielding him from worrying topics like the merchant. He lamented that his composure melted at his presence, the thing that wasn't previously a problem in the original world. Peter never thought he could dislike someone that much. At least, he thought that was a dislike he was feeling; it was hard to tell through the new heart.

The blanket covered his topless body, the rosebud of which had white panties as an additional layer of protection. When he finally felt warm and comfortable enough, he heard the rustles and voices from the next room. He tried to ignore the sounds, but when he listened to a male tone, he couldn't do anything but tune to it.

"I'm sure she is sound asleep now. No need for all the hushes." said Tom.

"But she will wake up when she- Mwooogh." Cait stopped midsentence as her mouth was roughly occupied with something soft enough to induce a slosh. Then it was silent for a time before popping broke the kiss, after which Cait's moaning followed. Lacie's heart started a race on the realisation of what was happening behind the wall. That was an end to the peaceful sleep, Peter thought. It was impossible to ignore it; they were way too noisy. The faint idea of the hole in the wall winked at him.

"A-ah, don't go down there yet. We have a whole night ahead of us." said Cait, after which their bed creaked, and its covering swished in the air. "You are my now, pretty boy."

It wasn't too long after that Lacie kneeled to engage in wide-eyed voyeurism. She held her breath at the sight of Cait pulling the bottom off her ample butt, still straddling the man. Tom wasn't satisfied with being the bottom and closed his lover by the waist to entwine his tongue with hers. They weren't naked yet, but their bodies already moved unaware, slowly humping in a desperate attempt to peel the remaining clothes and engage fully in their steamy lust.

The familiar and strange feeling came to Peter as he watched. It enveloped him whole, forcing the body to heat up like glowing cinders of a campfire, not scorching, but drawing him in. The swirling sensation led his hand through the valley of Lacie's breasts, slipping on the firm stomach just to stop at the sole fabric on her. It was wet, it was burning, it was needing.

The frustration peaked again. Something was lacking. A puzzle was still missing the last piece, readying itself for the final insertion to make it whole. The shy fingers tried to brush panties, now soaked and see-through, against the length of the slit. Down and up at first, then they circled around, pulling the whole crotch with them. The other hand helped the connected knees to steady the kneel while the head stared intensely through the hole.

Peter, at the moment, suffered shame, was prickled with anxiety and stiffed with fear. But the compulsion that drove him to the bottom of a thin wall now coordinated his soft feminine panting and slowly bent and pierced all mental barriers he had. One final block remained unyielding to the onslaught, a mystery that served as a gilded lock to his inhibitions.

That lock shuddered when the inevitable came. Tom finally got on top, exploiting the daze in which Cait was in. She put a token of reaction by wrapping her calves around her stud's bare waist. The position she was in aligned herself with her want for the next to come. Tom pulled his bottom half of clothing in one motion, springing his thick cock free and spluttering pent up precum forward. The time froze to burn the image in Peter's eyes. He had a sideways view of them both. Long ago, he would rather focus on Cait's open legs or watch her quaking breasts. Now he put all his attention on the man. His sharp, handsome face, the strong grip, luscious butt. His throbbing schlong.

The sight of the last reminded his past frustrations. They were now put in context, as when the merchant would smile at the other women, it was a desire to embrace him, claim him alone, that scratched his arching back in desperation. The knots unravelled as Lacie dove her hand beneath the panties, seeking the relief of primal urges. The fingers in instinctive inspiration knew where to go, even if Peter did not. They carefully got slick with girlcum first. Second, they inspected the hood at the top, gently committing to the memory all its crevices.

There were no further steps, only slow and rhythmic caressing of the needy clit. It, too, throbbed and swell, long omitted and abandoned. The destination met, Lacie laid on the side, leaving her other hand to fondle the painfully hard teats. She had to twist her body and neck to get the rest of the screening. The internal struggle blinded her attention to the pair of lovers. And what she witnessed, when she returned to look, put her in shock yet again. Cait's drooling quim was now in front of her. Her legs were spread apart. Lacie closely observed and followed, spreading her own, expecting a mate to come and take her. The woman on the bed didn't have to wait as the shaft soon spread the red lips and gradually engulfed itself inside of her. Cait wasn't the only one who moaned enthusiastically at the act.

When the passion transformed to a bestial fuck, Peter wasn't even paying attention. He now was mopped with the thrusting of Tom's dick, shoving at his virgin cunt. The reality was gone, the voice from his throat escaped unstopped, and his limbs freed themselves from the restraint of a conscious mind. The warmth was the whole world. The pleasure was finally peaking.

The shudders and squirming came suddenly without any prior indication. The orgasm forced Lacie to slide to the side, curled up, one hand fiercely squashed with her thighs and the other stifling high pitched cries coming out of her mouth. She lied like this for a blissfully eternal moment, trembling with each squeaking quiver. When it was over, the waves of ecstasy still bounced all inside her body, leaving her a joyously teared up mess on the ground. She felt peace at long last, weariness of last weeks washed away in one sweep. The pair continued their love-making, but the sounds slowly faded in a distant echo. The floor made now as good a place to rest as would the most comfortable bed. No one blamed her for falling asleep at this very moment. Lacie passed out.

---

On the floor of a simple apartment situated in a small English town, a man was unconsciously lying on the floor with his VR headset on. His visible mouth formed a dumb, open smile, letting small drips of saliva run down his cheeks. It wasn't visible from his shorts, but his boxers were now wet with cum drained religiously from his tensed balls. His dick was still stiff after the heaviest climax of its life, not letting go of the torrent of blood that fueled the fire raging in his loins. The hips matched as they still shook a whole minute after the finish, spreading raised knees apart. Even the toes joined, clasping with full oscillating force.

The position the man found himself in wasn't masculine, but it was one that he enjoyed at the precious moment. The strange visitors that broke into his house watched closely.