Wishes Gone Wrong - Slut High Pt. 01

I jolted to awareness as the revelation hit me. This wasn't my room.

The space was the same, the bed and the drawers and the desk were all in the correct spots, but they were all... different. Wrong. I didn't have little heart-dotted sheets, for example, and there was a cute little pink laptop where my desktop pc had been. I'm also pretty damn sure I'd never seen the enormous teddy bear leering at me from a corner with a huge dildo sticking out of its crotch.

It was just as messy as my room had always been, but all the junk I'd had strewn around was gone, replaced by racy clothes and sex toys and boy-love doujinshi. The posters on the wall portrayed a series of increasingly yummy looking half-naked men. I swallowed, hard.

What the fuck was going on? Where was all my stuff?

I toppled forward as I tried to stand. There was something heavy on my chest, pulling me down. I reached a hand to grab whatever it was, to give myself support, but I couldn't make sense of what I was feeling. I could feel my hands on my chest, but my hands were pressing down into something large and soft and silky and - oh my god. I gasped and let out a delicate sigh. The feeling of my own hands groping at my chest felt good. Real good. I squeezed harder, a soft groan slipping from my lips.

Wait, fuck.

I threw my hands back and tried to scream, but it came out as a lascivious, wanton cry. I looked down and screamed again. There, hanging from my chest, covered only by a paper-thin layer of lacey red silk, was an enormous pair of jiggling girly tits.

I shook my head, trying to throw off this crazy dream, but the tickling of my long hair against my back sent me shuddering in alarm instead. I brushed it out of my face. What the hell was going on? Okay, calm down. Figure this out.

I stood there in the dim light of the early morning and took stock of myself. I held out a hand. It was small and delicate and feminine and topped by nails that shone like rubies. I pinched myself with one of those long slender fingers, hoping that would wake me. Ah, shit. I bit my lip. Why did that feel so good?

"What the fuck is going on?" I cried. My voice came out a low sultry alto with a breathy, needy undertone. Jesus, I sounded like a porn star.

This was too much. I needed to get out of here. I needed to figure out what was happening. I opened the door then took a step back. The hallway beyond was the same one that had greeted me every morning of my life. The banality of it was shocking, but it was proof at least that this was indeed my house I was in.

I ran down the hall, hips swaying, hands held out to my side, breasts heaving with each delicate step. I needed to get to the bathroom. I needed to find a mirror. The cold tile of the floor forced me onto my toes as I stumbled into the room. The lamp from yesterday was sitting in the sink, right where I'd dropped it.

Fuck. I was a girl. And I was gorgeous.

The face staring back at me from the mirror was both weirdly familiar and completely alien. I think it was as close to my original face as you could have gotten while simultaneously being the face of a walking wet dream. Everything about it seemed to ooze sex. My lips were plump, tender and puckered, my lashes long and seductive, my eyes, in my recently woken state, were sultry and heavy-lidded. It was like looking at the incredibly hot sister I'd never had. Even the desperately confused expression on my face seemed to convey a sense of faux innocence and sexual eagerness.

I touched a hand up to the tiny scar on my right cheek and traced it under my fingers. I'd gotten it in elementary school running away from a girl who didn't appreciate the way I kept flipping her skirt up. The fact that I still had it... did that mean this was still my body, just transformed somehow? Or had the girl whose body I was inhabiting suffer a similar incident? Normally it just kind of made my face look unbalanced, but now it seemed to draw attention to the stunningly cute dimple I had whenever I smiled.

I looked down at the lamp in the sink. Fuck, the genie. No, there was no fucking way that had really happened. But what other explanation was there? I grabbed the thing, surprised at the increased weight of it, and started rubbing. A small note, handwritten in an exotic script, fell out and rolled to the floor. I down bent at the waist and picked it up.

"Dearest Master,

I hope you're enjoying your wish! It took quite a bit of work, but I've managed to get everything to your exact specifications! As discussed, only you will be aware that anything's different, but don't worry, no one will think anything out of the ordinary if you're acting weird as you adjust. Just relax and have fun! I'll be back to check on you a little later, and if you're not happy, we can adjust the specifics or just turn everything back to normal and start again.

Remember: Satisfaction guaranteed.

With love,

Your humble Djinn"

It was real. Holy shit. It was all real. I put a hand on the wall for support as all the strength seemed to drain from me. Satisfaction guaranteed my ass. This wasn't what I'd wished for at all!

I looked back in the mirror, inspecting my face. I was beautiful. No, not beautiful. More than that. I was Hot. Sexy. Fuckable. I was everything my adolescent male brain could have dreamed for and more.

I brushed a lock of long brown hair out of my eyes. It seemed tossed in an improbably sexy mess that gave me a freshly fucked kind of look. I turned my head from side to side, as though viewing it from a different angle would dispel the hallucination, but no matter how I looked at it from, this was a face begging for a deep passionate fucking. I tried making faces, but no matter what I did it only came across as either impossibly cute or smolderingly seductive.

I ran a finger along my cherry red lips. They were plump and sensitive and seemed to glisten even in the dim light. Was I wearing lip gloss? I ran my tongue along it, but no, it was all natural. Damn, even that little gesture had come off as a sexy invitation. I swallowed hard.

I took a step back to get a view of the complete package. My jaw dropped. The long legs that had always made me seem so lanky as a guy made me statuesque as a woman, complimenting wonderfully the perfect curves of my hourglass figure.

The girl posing back at me from the mirror was wearing a tight silken nightie that hugged her generous portions, putting more on display than it hid. In my rush and panic, I'd hardly noticed I was wearing the thing. I adjusted one of the shoulder straps, which had fallen invitingly down the soft creamy skin of my shoulder, but that alone was enough to cause the hem of the tiny garment to ride up, exposing to the world the slim fabric of my matching G-string and the smoothly waxed temptation beneath. I tried to pull the negligee back down to cover my crotch, but that just put my bulging cleavage all the more on display.

And what cleavage it was. I don't know if it was just because I was unaccustomed to them or if it was an illusion created by the lingerie, but they seemed bigger by far than I'd ever seen on a girl as skinny as me. They sat proudly on my chest, round and inviting like a pair of warm pillowy melons. My large swollen nipples, already pressing quite visibly poking through the thin red fabric, grew all the harder as I stared at them.

I spun around slowly, taking a look at myself from the side and back. I thought my breasts had been sexy, but my ass was a work of art. It was full and round, complimenting the new width of my hips as it seemed to jut out in a perfect semi circle beneath the too-short material of my nightie. I bounced up and down on my toes and watched hypnotized as it shook. You could juggle quarters off this thing.

I fiddled with one of the delicate little bows in the front of my nightie. There was an open slit that ran down the middle, exposing my navel. My belly was taut and shapely, the temptation and implication of abs, with just enough fat to make it soft and feminine and vulnerable. I readjusted my hem, but no matter what I did with it, anyone seeing a girl wearing something like this would know all too well that she was just begging someone to grab into it and rip this pathetic excuse of clothing off of her. I let out a horny little whimper.

Shit, the sight of my naked girl self was getting me all worked up. I could feel the warmth building up in my blood. I glanced around conspiratorially then locked the door.

I sat down on the toilet seat. Was I really doing this? Was this really the first thing I was going to do after waking up in a new body? I reached up one hesitant hand, grazing a finger gently across the cleavage of my breasts. I shivered. I was so sensitive that even this slightest of touches was enough to drive me wild. I gently squeezed the breast in one hand, suppressing a soft sigh.

I looked down past my breasts at the thin panties hugging my flat crotch. My dick was gone. I mean, I don't know why that surprised me at that point. Obviously it was gone. Somehow though I don't think it really hit me until then, as though somehow, I was going to reach down to masturbate and of course it would be there, but no. My crotch was flat and smooth.

Hesitantly, I drummed a hand on my tight belly then slowly slid it down beneath the band of my flimsy thong. Oh my god. My breath faltered as I squeezed my legs together. My hand came away hot and wet. I felt dizzy, flush, and beyond that, needy.

I raised an arm to my chest, hugging one breast while I groped the other with my hand. The rough sensation sending waves of warm pleasure through me. It was like a massage and a hand job all at once. Soon I slipped off the straps of the baby-doll and sat there topless, my fleshy melons overflowing as I pawed and ground them against my body.

I leaned back and took a deep breath of anticipation, then spread my legs and reached my hand back down to my yearning pussy. I was content to just cup it at first, maybe stroke it softly as I marveled at its perfect smoothness and heat, but soon curiosity and libido got the better of me and I began to explore the tender inviting folds of my new sex.

As a guy I'd never gotten this far with a girl before. Now, I was getting a first hand feel. My hands may not have been skillful, but they were experimental, and I knew what felt good. Each little caress, each ounce of pressure, each little pinch and rub brought more and more delights, driving me further into another lust-fueled haze sent all the higher by the sight of the slut desperately trying to pleasure herself in the mirror.

But it wasn't enough. I needed more.

I circled a finger around the outside of my desperate hole, then plunged it in hard and deep. A pleading moan drove from my lips. I lost track of myself in the mirror as my eyes rolled up into my head, my back arching, my hips driving forward, losing myself to the pleasure as I pumped a second and then third finger in and out while circling that wonderful little bundle of nerves with my thumb.

Fuck. Being a guy had nothing on this.

"Jamie?" came a voice. There was a knock. I jumped. The finely honed instincts I'd developed in my years as a teenage boy trying not to get caught masturbating sent me into a scramble. Luckily, those same instincts had ensured I'd locked the door. "Come on sweetheart, you're going to be late. There'll be plenty of time for that at school."

Sweetheart? Since when had mom ever called me that?

The sun shone through the window. Shit, I had completely lost track of time.

"Just a minute mom!" I called, my voice echoing low and sultry and dripping with sexual need. Wait, shit. I flinched as I waiting for her to freak out about the strange girl masturbating in her bathroom.

"You need to hurry up, dear. Breakfast is almost ready and I know how long you take in the shower."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Oh thank god. She hadn't even missed a beat. Of course. The genie had said no one would notice. I guess she'd granted that part properly at least.

Wait, since when did mom make breakfast?

Snapped out of my reverie, I stumbled into the shower only to be surprised when I turned it on. The weak even flow I'd grown up with had been replaced by the staccato rhythm of one of those fancy pulsing massaging shower heads. I rolled my eyes. No wonder girl-me took so long. Not that I could blame her. It took more willpower than I'd have expected to not lose myself under its tender ministrations. Even just the sensation of it against my bare breasts and nipples was enough to tempt me towards more self exploration.

As the heat washed over my sensitive soapy skin, the last of my neurons began to wake up. Okay. Let's take stock.

Magic was real. Or, well, genies were real at least. And one had perverted my wish and now I was, what? Some kind of slutty girl? Not exactly what I had planned. But it looked like at least I wasn't stuck like this. I just had to put up with it until the genie came back and then I could have her turn me back into a guy, right? Maybe this wouldn't be so bad? It certainly had its benefits. I grinned as I squeezed a slippery tit. Oh yeah, I could get used to this. A part of me just wanted to stay at home and spend the whole day masturbating.

I was a little surprised with how well I was taking it. I don't know if I was in shock or if the stew of sex hormones in my brain was just keeping me mellow. I guess a part of it was that despite my feminine body I still felt like myself. I was still a man inside, where it counted.

I wondered about the girl I now was. Whoever she was, she was insatiable. Was this who I'd have been if I'd been born a girl? Some kind of horny minx? Or was this something that had been dropped on me on top of that? I traced the scar on my cheek. How different had her life been?

There was another knock at the door, though I couldn't hear mom's words over the shower. I worked up the will to pull my hand away from my wet crotch and shut off the water. I know the note said to not worry about it, but I didn't want to give mom any reason to worry. I barely believed what was happening myself, I didn't want to have to try to explain this all to her.

I sighed contently as I stepped out of the shower and toweled off. I'd needed that.

The room was completely steamed over. My female body seemed to have a much higher tolerance for heat than I was used to. I dried my hair as best I could, and then, after trying and failing to wrap a towel around my bounteous chest liked I'd seen on TV, I slipped naked out of the bathroom back towards my own, acutely aware of the way my heavy melons bounced with each step.

I frowned. Normally this is when I'd get dressed and go to school. I couldn't possibly go out like this though, could I? Shit, what choice did I have? Mom would kill me if she caught me skipping. She ran a tight ship - faking an illness wasn't going to cut it. What was I supposed to do? Explain to her that the son she never had had taken over her daughter's body and wanted to spend the day playing with her tits?

I frowned all the harder. Maybe I had to just put up with it for today. It would be okay as long as no one thought there was anything weird about it, right? Besides, as alien as everything felt, as totally emasculating as it was, being a girl for a day did have its advantages. Hadn't I had many a happy fantasy of the women's locker room? If I played my cards right, I could see things today that I'd never dreamed possible.

I pulled open my underwear drawer. Row and row of bright, loosely folded thongs stared back at me.

Alright, so maybe this wasn't quite going to be as simple as I'd thought. The selection ranged from sporty to the downright racy, but not a one was anything approaching modest. I blushed. Some of these were crotchless.

I briefly considered going commando, but that changed when I pulled open my pants drawer to see nothing but an assortment of skirts. Hell, with how tiny and tight these things were I don't know if you could even really call them that. How did girl-me get away with wearing this stuff? I slammed the drawer in frustration. As much as guy-me would have loved to see a girl walking around in this sort of thing, there was no way I was putting these on. There had to be a better way.

I opened up my t-shirt drawer. Half of it was stuffed with a scandalous array of lacey bras and the other was stuffed with all manner of colorful and delicate tops. I picked one up. In its unworn state it took me a moment to process what I was seeing. It was a thin, white, vaguely elastic tube top with a pair of smaller tubes attached to it to create shoulderless sleeves. I looked down at the wanton swell of my chest. I'd struggle to even get this over my head - there was no way this was going to fit over my tits.

I dug around some more. My entire wardrobe was full of fetishistically skimpy clothing. I stumbled over to the closet, hoping maybe something a little more formal would result in more modesty, but all I found was an increasingly slinky series of cocktail dresses.

Wish or not, I couldn't go to school dressed like this. I dug deeper.

Aha! There, buried all the way in the back next to all my packed away winter gear was an old sweater. A little hot, sure, but at least it would cover my midriff. I pulled it on, almost putting my head through the wrong hole in the process. I struggled to readjust. Great, not only was the thing body-huggingly tight, but it had a boob window as well. How the hell was this supposed to keep you warm?

Okay, fine, whatever. I didn't have time to sit around and play dress up all day. It was still the best I'd found - It would have to do. I grabbed the longest skirt I could find - this girl owned no pants apparently - to go with it. It was a light knee-length dark green thing with pleats. Frankly, I was just glad it covered my ass.

I looked at the mirror and froze. Damn, I looked hot. Somehow, without any effort on my part, my still damp hair seemed to fall in a sexy mess around my face and shoulders, perfectly framing my walking wet dream of a face. The look of surprise on my face given sultry undertones by the natural smoulder of my eyes.

I could feel my nipples stiffening under my sweater. Somehow, seeing this stupid erotic body dressed like this was turning me on almost as much as seeing it naked in the mirror earlier had. These were clothes that promised tantalizing hints of the prize beneath. I tried to strike a sexy pose and surprised myself not only with how easy it was, but at the sheer carnal want communicated by the action. Even without really trying, my body seemed to know exactly how to present itself to beg for the sex it so constantly craved.

I decided not to risk the pile of cosmetics sitting on my desk, but I grabbed the purse and my backpack. Was girl-me in the same classes? Did she have the same schedule? I looked inside to check, then dropped it in surprise. Shoved in next to my usual books and gear was a pair of knee pads, a slim vibrating wand, and a trio of realistic flesh-colored dildos. I glanced around in embarrassment, glad I'd caught these now instead of accidentally pulling them out during class.

I reached in and plucked the largest of them with my finger and thumb. I was trying to touch it as little as possible, but oh my god it was so firm and fleshy and thick. The more I stared at it the more my heart pounded. I licked my soft ruby lips. Even at a cursory glance it was clear that the thing was well loved. Jesus christ, what kind of a girl had I become?

Not knowing what else to do with the eager toys I threw them under the bed. Mine or not, I'd be mortified if I had to explain these things to mom.

"Jamie! Come on! Breakfast is getting cold!"