The Wandering Costume Shop: Eric

In many ways, there's a great modern mystery that lurks throughout our cities, but only for a scant month or so every year. It's a place that seems to be there one moment and is gone again the next, returning once again a year later. Sometimes they're in the same space, other times they seem to move at random, but they always seem to inhabit old and abandoned buildings. Nobody really seems to know where they disappear to in their off season, they're simply empty and gone. Most people barely think about these places even during their season, and nobody seems to truly question their appearance and disappearance.

Perhaps it has something to do with the magic of the season. Perhaps there's something more sinister afoot. In either case, they seem to leave our collective consciousness just as fast as they arrive and disappear.

I'm talking, of course, about Halloween Stores.

To be sure, there's something weird about them. But they're not the actual subject of my story today. It is, however, closely related. There is just something about those stores that has entered the cultural zeitgeist, something that I'm not sure is original to them. In a similar respect, there is another type of store that has entered the cultural zeitgeist in much the same way. It's the shop known for its cursed items or the sacrifice made to be able to purchase exotic and occult items. Those stores that sell you items that might as well be deals with the devil himself. While Mr. King does spin a fanciful tale, I believe that he, too, is not the originator of this mythos.

Personally, I believe that what I have come to call "The Wandering Costume Shop" to be the originator of both of those myths. In fact, I fully believe that the stories I have heard are true, spoken from the lips of its very victims.

What neither of those more known myths seems to get straight, however, is what the shop actually does.

Generally, it appears at the edge of town. It's either a curiosity or basically the only option around when its victim needs it. It entices the curious with an odd and eclectic assortment of sensual and stylish wear. For others, it offers the more traditional "slutty" halloween costumes one would expect. It's almost always the only shop of its kind in the area. It's definitely the only thing open late and/or close enough for those who desperately need something for a costume party.

In either case, once a victim is lured in, they are given an "offer" they can't refuse. In exchange for an outfit that fits their desires or needs, they must give up something of themselves. For a great many of its victims, this is at least their manhood. For others, they lose something more ethereal such as their intelligence, career choices, or even something as simple as their sense of fashion. Truly, I don't believe that anyone who enters the shop can ever get out unchanged.

These claims are very difficult to track down, and most definitely impossible to prove. The only individual that ever believes something has been taken away is the victim. Every other individual in their lives, every scrap of physical or digital evidence shows them to have always been the person that they are now. One and all, it seems as though the victims were always the over-sexualized pictures of humanity that they appear to be. Further, the store is always gone before the victim has a chance to return. Disappeared as if it had never been there at all.

These are the stories of the shop's victims.

***

Eric sighed once again as he stared at the small pile of fabric layered on top of his bed. Somehow, every single pair of board shorts he owned had been destroyed by the apartment's washing machine. On tonight, of all nights, he didn't have anything to wear to the beach, let alone anything actually worth wearing.

Tonight he had been hoping for a chance at a big break, a way to get away from the drudgery of working the local beach tiki bars instead of being out on the waves himself. There was supposed to be a big party at the beach, one in which multiple possible sponsors would be in attendance. It was something he had asked off for weeks in advance. He had been practicing his smile and small chat in front of a mirror, working on his social niceties just for a chance to spend more time among the waves.

And it had all been brought to nothing by some freak accident of machinery.

Normally, he would have time to go buy a new pair of board shorts, something nice and classy, from one of the local surf shops. Unfortunately, Everyone had shut down early in anticipation of this exact event. Even worse, this happened with only an hour or so before the event in question. It didn't leave him with enough time to even run to one of the big box stores for something shitty, but passable. The drive was forty-five minutes one way. By the time he made it back, all the big sponsors would already have their impressions of the locals set in stone. Showing up late wasn't something he could really live with.

As a last resort, he dug around in his closet, hoping against hope that he had a pair or two tucked away in the back somewhere. Something that would have survived the apartment's laundry machines.

No such luck.

He even tried digging out the few clothes that weren't shorts. A pair of jeans and a polo shirt. It had been a couple years since he had worn anything but board shorts or bathing suits, but the pants were still too tight. He'd definitely put on some muscle in the intervening years, and he couldn't even get the top button done on the jeans. The polo was worse. It was stretched to the breaking point just trying to fit his torso.

Sighing again, he looked down at the pile of clothes on his bed, and then out the window towards the ocean.

He could live with the drudgery of making rent by working at the beach-side bars if he had to. At least they were on the beach. He still dreamed of the possibility of spending practically all day out in the waves, or out in the skatepark if the waves weren't being accommodating.

He just couldn't live with missing this opportunity, though. He just had to look good, to show the big sponsors that he was a real surfer, not just a bartender.

Eric picked up his phone and opened the maps app.

It didn't matter what the store was like, or how much the cost, or how uncomfortable the outfit. If there was some kind of shop still open that had clothes he could wear, he had to at least check. At this point, he'd even wear a speedo if he thought it would do the trick. He was bi, preferring women, but would be perfectly happy to become a sugar baby if it meant he could surf or skate even most of the time.

There was a store just outside of town. It had popped up overnight, and seemed like a pretty run down and dirty shop. Definitely not a place he normally shopped. But it was the only one listed as still open.

He had an hour before the party started, and he knew the way there. It would be a tight squeeze, but if traffic wasn't a mess, he'd have plenty of time to spare.

This was his last, best chance. Well, it was if he didn't want to be relegated to suffering through a bog-standard life away from the waves for months more. Eric definitely wouldn't let this chance slip through his hands if he could help.

Eric hopped in his car, and turned the engine over. The drive over was relatively quick, traffic being fairly sparse to his great relief. Despite that, Eric's nerves were on edge the whole drive over. When he finally pulled into the parking lot, his heart sank.

The shop wasn't really much to look at. It was a bit dingy, with a broken neon sign that kept flickering. The windows were dirty and covered in a thin layer of grime. There were some signs up in the window that looked like they'd been there for ages, and some of the letters in the name were burnt out.

All in all, the place didn't really look like the kind of place that sold clothing.

It wasn't exactly the kind of place he'd have normally frequented. It wasn't that he was afraid of dirt, but there was a certain aesthetic he liked to keep. Bright colors, tanned skin, clothes stained by salt at the very worst. He really wasn't into grunge aesthetics. Hopefully, the place had better looking clothes than it did a storefront.

Eric pushed the door open, and a little bell chimed.

"Hello?" Eric asked, stepping inside.

Only silence greeted him as Eric looked out upon the store. The interior was certainly better looking than the storefront had been. The shelves were filled with racks upon racks of various garments. The lights were bright, and the clothing was all very stylish. It didn't take him long to realize that the clothing was all women's wear, or at the very least extremely feminine. There wasn't a single article of clothing that would have been found in his own closet.

Shit.

Nothing he saw online said this was specifically a women's clothing store. They had to have some men's clothes around here somewhere, right? He needed to find a pair of board shorts, and he wasn't about to wear a dress to the party.

Eric stepped up to the counter and rang the bell.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Eric called out.

There was no answer.

Great. Just great.

This was supposed to be the last place open and Eric couldn't find anyone. At least one person should have been available and on hand, but he simply couldn't find anyone.

"Might as well take a look around..." Eric muttered to himself. He didn't like the idea of stealing from a local shop, but he was desperate. Even just leaving cash on the counter or some contact information so that he could pay later didn't fully sit right with him. Even still, this party was far too important for him to not look his best at.

Eric wandered the aisles of the store. The shelves were filled to bursting with all kinds of clothing and accessories. The problem was that every single item was distinctly feminine. None of it was really his style. Just like any clothing store this close to the beach there were plenty of bikinis and women's swimsuits, but the further he dug into the store the less masculine the clothes seemed to be getting.

It was just when he began seriously considering just grabbing a pair of booty shorts that he might pass off as merely "too tight" that he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Hullo?" Eric called out to the store as his head snapped to the direction of the movement.

Silence.

Eric shrugged. He had an appointment to make. Maybe the clothes were a bit girlier than what he normally wore, but if he had to pick a bikini and call it a night then he would.

Just when he thought he wouldn't find anything even remotely appropriate, he noticed a section full of wetsuits. The designs were somehow remarkably feminine, not just in shape, but in the way the color patterns directed attention towards certain areas of the body. It wasn't the most ideal, but he was certain he could find some kind of cover-up or loose-fitting shirt to cover the worst aspects of the available patterns.

One of these would certainly convey exactly what he was looking to, however. Eric was a surfer through-and-through, someone who cut a great figure that would only be accentuated by the tight fit of such a wetsuit.

Quickly making a decision, Eric grabbed what he thought would be the least offensive wetsuit off of the rack and headed towards the back to find a changing room.

"What the fuck am I doing?" Eric said as he stripped out of his current clothes. "I'm not even sure if this will fit."

Despite his misgivings, the suit was a surprisingly good fit. It seemed to tug, cling, and hang loosely in a few respective places. It didn't really matter, though. The suit fit well enough for his needs, showed off his body, and was the right kind of attire to attract a sponsor.

Eric moved back into the shop, rushing to find some kind of loose cover-up shirt. As he moved, however, the fabric constraining his body seemed to tug and tighten strangely around his limbs. The fabric almost seemed to catch on something in his rush and he went tumbling to the ground. His head cracked against one of the racks during his tumble, and everything faded to black as he lay on the floor.

Eric awoke with what seemed to be the missing store clerk standing over him.

"You okay miss? I came out of the back when I heard a crash out front, it was clear you had taken a tumble."

"Miss?" Eric asked, rubbing his head and looking around.

That was when Eric noticed his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't help but gape in confusion. The girl in the mirror was practically a perfect doppelganger for himself, with the obvious exceptions for being feminine. She looked exactly like what Eric thought of when he considered the quintessential California surfer girl, long golden blonde hair, a lean but muscular frame, shapely but not overbalancing tits, an amazing ass, and thighs that could crush a can of soda. She was clad in a tight black wetsuit with bright neon green triangles in a pattern that ran up her sides. A couple of larger green shapes were strategically placed on her hips and chest, leaving the negative space to look like a bikini. The entire effect was somehow incredibly slimming, shapely, fierce, and most of all erotic.

Eric reached out a hand, and the woman in the mirror mimicked his motion. He waved his hand, and she waved back.

Horror immediately struck Eric deep in his gut.

Apparently, it showed on his face as the petite store clerk stepped into view besides the girl in the mirror and spoke up.

"What's wrong? Something about your appearance?"

Eric spoke up, his... no, her... voice coming out in a squeak, "I'm supposed to be going to that surfer's gala tonight.... I can't go out looking like this!"

The clerk looked confused for a moment before a realization seemed to strike her. She moved around Eric, grabbing his hand here, lifting up his feminine hair there. Finally, she seemed satisfied with her inspection.

"I think I see what you mean, you'll barely have enough time to get there from here as-is. With that drive ahead of you, you clearly won't be able to fix anything. If you think you can give me twenty minutes, and just run a bit late, I think I can get you all fixed up!"

Eric let loose a deep sigh of relief. He didn't know how he was going to explain his situation to the clerk, but it seemed as though she not only understood but had a fix for the situation.

Eric nodded to the girl, and was suddenly whisked away to what must have been the employee break room.

Eric was confused when the girl started to break out a waterproof makeover kit, but decided to trust the process. Something weird had clearly caused this mess, it only stood to reason that something weird would be what got him back to his normal, male, self.

Unfortunately for Eric, he hadn't been clear with the clerk exactly what his issue was. In her mind, the gorgeous woman before her was completely put out that she wouldn't have time to do her makeup before the gala.

The clerk got to work on Eric with ruthless efficiency, beautifying every aspect and heightening every feature.

First, the clerk applied a thin layer of foundation and powder, followed by some mascara and a layer of pink lip gloss. Her face was then coated in blush. Finally, the clerk applied a small amount of eyeliner.

Once the foundation and powders were applied, Eric found himself unable to stop admiring his own feminine features.

His cheeks were now soft, yet sharp, and the makeup she had applied made his feminine features even more prominent.

Just as the realization of his earlier error struck him, Eric felt the muscles in his face move without his input.

The made-up surfer chick in the mirror smiled warmly. The way her lips moved underneath their glossy coat made Eric wonder how they would feel wrapped around his cock.

The moment of distraction did Eric a great disservice. He turned to face the clerk, and his mouth formed words that he definitely didn't tell them to form.

"OH. EM. GEE. Girl, you are an absolute lifesaver! I can't believe you got a look this good out of the waterproof product! The color palette is usually so abysmal..."

The voice spilling forth from Eric's throat wasn't quite that of a valley girl, but it certainly bore resemblance to one. Despite the cheerful words spewing from his lips, terror gripped Eric's heart.

What had happened to him? How did his voice change? Why couldn't he control his own body?

Eric tried to scream, shout, anything.

Not a single syllable passed from his thoughts to his mouth.

His body lifted his hand, displaying girlish sky-blue long nails prominently in front of him.

"Oh, and thanks a million for these acrylics! I can't believe that I forgot to get my nails done before rushing over here to grab a new wetsuit after my old one got trashed."

"No problem!" The clerk replied with a smile.

"Well, I gotta jet. I don't want to be too late for the party, even if the hostess is my friend. Thanks again, love!" Eric's mouth moved on its own again, his body standing and walking towards the exit.

There was a distinct roll to his hips, a bounciness to his flesh that felt incredibly alien and wrong to Eric as his body strut itself out of the strange store. As his body sat itself into the driver's seat of his car, Eric couldn't help but focus on the way his new ass provided some extra cushioning.

His body, still on autopilot, pulled his Jeep out onto the highway, headed back towards the beach. Not long after that, he met his own eyes in the mirror.

"Guess this is as good a time as any to have a conversation about what's happening, huh?" His body spoke to the mirror before Eric's control of his face was restored.

"W-what... Who are you? What are you?"

"Well darling," the animating force taking back over, "The question of what is pretty straightforward. I'm your clothes and makeup. As to the question of who? I guess, technically, I'm you... Maybe your desire? Hard to put a real pin on that one. I'm the bit of magic that was formed to get you what you wished for." The face in the mirror smiled once more before releasing control once again.

Eric tried his best to scream, to do anything. Unfortunately, his attempts at breaking free were utterly in vain.

The animating force had complete control of Eric's body.

"So, I know it's a lot to take in, and probably sounds like bullshit, but you can trust me. After all, we both want the same thing."

"You have no idea what I want."

"Oh, come on, Erica. You've got this party tonight that you really need to go to, and I'm the only way you're going to make it there dressed for the occasion!"

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm turning this car around and getting some answers."

"Well, that's going to be difficult."

"And why is that?"

"You're not driving, and I'm not going to give up that level of control. Frankly, the only reason we're having this conversation is that I was hoping to do this the easy way."

"What's the hard way, then?"

"The hard way is where I just take control and just get us that life we both want my way, through feminine wiles."

"Yeah, no."

"That's what I figured. Which is why, Erica, I'm going to need you to get used to the idea of being a woman. We've got a long drive ahead of us, and I'm not about to let a little bit of a mental breakdown ruin this night for us. After all, the sooner you start accepting that you're a woman, the sooner you'll become a better one."

Eric felt the sensation of the accelerator pressing down.

He was fucked.

Eric's mind raced as he tried to figure out what was going on, what he could do, literally anything about this situation he had found himself in. It was as though his mind was stuck in a loop for several minutes as the nearby scenery passed by in a blur. It took altogether too long for him to formulate any sort of response, let alone the question that eventually came out of his mouth.

"So, what happens now? Am I just supposed to be stuck like this? Stuck as a woman?"

"You're going to have to get used to the idea, Erica. As far as I'm aware, this is permanent. Like I was saying earlier, this is how we get what you've always wanted: a life on the waves. It's just going to require a bit more rolling around than you initially expected." His eyes moved to the mirror where he saw a sultry grin form upon uttering that last sentence.

That grin did things to him. It was the kind of grin he'd seen all too often in the past. The grin of a girl who knew she was going to drag you into her bed later. The grin of a girl who was going to rock your world and leave you behind picking up the pieces. The kind of grin that made you know without a doubt you were going to regret your upcoming evening, and that, for the night at least, you weren't going to care how much you might come to regret it.

It left a sick, sinking feeling deep in his stomach. One stronger than he'd ever experienced before.

"Why?" He finally asked, his voice quivering with the effort it took him not to cry.

"Because it's what's best for you."

"This is the opposite of what I want."

His body actually burst out in laughter at his statement. "Darling girl, don't you dare keep telling yourself that. You would have happily licked menopausal pussy if it meant you could live your life on the sea, free of worries. Is it really so different to be choking down a dick? Hell, I'm willing to bet that with our makeover we don't even have to go for somebody that old. Besides, this is going to feel better than anything you could have possibly imagined."

His hands snaked down his body, rubbing and caressing before returning to the wheel.

"You've felt what this body can do, the pleasure that can be brought, the pleasure you can bring. You know the power these thighs have, the hypnotic sway of this ass, the tantalizing bounce of our tits. We're going to have a sponsor lapping up our sex and begging for more. All we have to do is use our assets, reach out and grasp what is rightfully ours."

A finger trailed down his throat before reaching his collarbone. He shuddered with pleasure, the sensation leaving an indelible impression on him.

"You just have to accept, embrace, the changes, the pleasures, the desires. Embrace them as your own, and we can have it all. We can have the waves, the sex, the attention, the sponsors. All you have to do is be honest with yourself. You're not Eric, not anymore, and you never will be again."

Eric felt as the expression on his face turned hard, cold and unrelenting. This entity possessing him claimed to know him, know what he wanted. It was saying some good things, but not like this. Never like this. It was simply something he couldn't possibly accept.

"Fuck you!" He said to the feminine image of himself, working up to a full-blown rant at his possessor.

Unfortunately for Eric, the rest of his rant never got the chance to come out. As soon as that first sentence crossed his new, pillowy lips any semblance of control left him. He entirely became a passenger within his own mind and this utterly foreign body.

Once again, his eyes met the reflection in the mirror. "Fine then, have it your way. I could have been nice about this, and honestly I really did want to make it easier on you..." The feminine voice trailed off as that same sultry, evil grin plastered itself onto his face. "This is going to be way more fun, however. I guarantee that by the end of tonight, we're going to have a sponsor wrapped around our finger."

The expression changed then, to one even more malicious and seductive than Eric could have ever imagined. "Well, perhaps not our finger, but they'll certainly be caught up in something, one could even say 'balls deep'..."

Eric's body turned its attention back to the road, giggling at its heinous joke. The mirth didn't seem to leave it, even all the way to the gala.

It was an odd sensation for Eric, having his body controlled. His entire mind felt like it was on pins and needles. It was a constant battle for him, the desire to regain his body, the desire not to think too hard about his situation, and the overwhelming fear that he would never regain control.

"Well, we're here." Erica's body said aloud... "Last chance for you to acquiesce and do this yourself rather than as a puppet."

Eric strained against the body that held him captive, screamed within his mind at the horrors assaulting his senses.

"Well... That's answer enough darling. Don't worry, this won't last forever... Just long enough for you to realize that this is truly what you wished for."

The thing puppeteering his remodeled flesh smiled coyly at him in the mirror. Her hands reached up, primping her makeup and tucking her wind-tousled hair back into place.

"It's time to turn some heads. I'll make sure to get us all the right kinds of attention." Eric's stomach sank with that proclamation, despite his body energetically bouncing out of the car seat and sashaying towards the party. If he were being honest with himself, the dread suffusing his consciousness was likely less in spite of those behaviors and more because of them.

The gala itself was, to Eric, a much larger source of tension than any similar events had been in the past albeit for very different reasons. Incongruously, for him at least, the body that was wearing him seemed to bounce energetically from conversation to conversation and from drink to drink. She seemed relaxed and open in a way that he could never bring himself to be in these kinds of spaces. Confident in a way that he always wished he could attain, but never had the zen to master over his own anxieties.

If he had been willing to admit that to himself, it may have been possible for him to enjoy the party in the way she seemed to. It may have even been possible for him to regain control of his body before that fateful glance. As it was, he was too tied up in fighting against his feminine form to realize what was truly going on until it was too late.

______________________

As had been her habit since the party began, Erica forced her unwilling host to finish a flute of champagne as her current conversation was dying out. It had been nothing special, some talk of local hotspots for surfing, best products to use, and talk of the few sponsors coming to the event. Upon downing the last of her flute, she scanned the crowd looking for a proper target.

She'd been looking around for the better part of an hour, flaunting her body and making certain her host was too drunk to truly fight her in any real capacity. It was bait, pure and simple, and she had just been waiting for the right fish to be hooked. It was with this scan of the party that she had finally found her white whale, and it was time to real him in.

_______________________

Eric felt dawning horror when he saw the man across the party. It had only been a casual scan of the party, something his horrid tormenter had been doing from the beginning. But this time, something was different and he suddenly knew exactly what her plan was.

The man that his eyes alighted on was the heir-apparent to a regional surf-gear company. Exactly the kind of man he would love to befriend at one of these galas in his male persona. His name was Jacob Weir, heir to the Weir Pier and Gear company, and Eric just caught the man staring at his newly reshaped ass.

Eric thought he would feel a kind of sinking dread at the idea of being checked out by another guy. Instead, he felt the weight of the alcohol he had been forced to consume burning deep within his stomach. At least he hoped that burning feeling was just the alcohol as he felt his lips form a somehow predatory and coy smirk.

As he watched, Jacob's eyes roved up his body resting on his pert breasts for mere moments before finally turning to the face of the woman staring back at him. The man seemed wholly surprised at what he found there: a woman who had clearly caught him staring and had unabashedly caught his gaze after the fact.

_______________________

Erica certainly had more trouble keeping herself from dressing the man down right there in public than she did holding down her host's own ego at that point. Something about the encounter and her own sparking lust had dulled the fervor in the man's sad attempts at escape. She read the name of her target from her host's thoughts: Jacob Weir, rich and involved in the local surf community. Absolutely perfect for her needs, even more so since dear Jacob couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her after that coy glance.

Instead of attacking her target directly, she made sure to reel both him and her host in slowly. She continued to lithely dance around the party, drinking and having conversation and fun with any group that would have her. She made sure that Jacob's eyes and ears could always follow her wherever she went, and his gaze never wavered. Every time she turned to catch him staring, that spark of heat deep in her core flared brighter, lust clouding the mind of her host ever further with the help of the alcohol coursing through her blood.

It didn't take nearly as long as she thought it might for Jacob to make his move, sidling up to her as she grabbed a plate of snacks at one of the few buffet tables set up around the place. He carried a pair of drinks in hand, a whisky on the rocks for himself and a mimosa for her. It was, after all, the thing she had been drinking for most of the party.

"So, what's a beautiful thing like you doing out at a party like this all on her own?" Jacob asked, his voice a low and husky rumble that seemed to vibrate with that flame of arousal she carried.

___________________________

Eric was aghast as he felt what Jacob's voice was doing to his body, and with a deep sense of dread, finally realized what was happening to him that night. Clearly reading his thoughts, but not quite verbalizing his horrors, his body spoke up as if to make a point of it.

"Oh! I'm out looking for a sponsor..." The high-pitched dream of a beach-babe voice sounded. " I haven't had much luck, despite being locally competitive. It's always been my dream to be able to live a life on the waves." Eric's body paused, taking the time to visibly drink in Jacob's muscled form. " I can't imagine you're particularly unfamiliar with that life, given the body you've cultivated..."

A cherubic smile splayed itself across Eric's now-feminine features despite the war going on within his head. One moment, he was viscerally revolted by the lust and attraction he felt for another man, but the very next he seemed to revel in the power his newly female form was giving him over such a perfect potential sponsor. In any case, it didn't matter that Eric himself was undecided. The magic that had changed him and was now controlling him clearly had a plan that she was going to stick to.

The gala flowed on around him, Jacob never leaving his side and Eric's body never failing to flirt and tease the man. It was only when the party started to die down that Jacob had offered some "further negotiations", and Eric's body only accepted all too eagerly, despite his own trepidation. It didn't help that Eric himself was nearly lost in the throes of alcohol and lust by that point, barely able to mount any kind of resistance at all, as they worked their way to a hotel room that Jacob had acquired.

As soon as they were inside, Eric found himself wrapped in a tight embrace, his plush lips pressed against Jacob's. His heart thudded in his chest as the man grasped Eric's breasts through the wetsuit. Eric's pussy throbbed with need, the lust overwhelming his sense of masculinity and revulsion.

When they reached the bed, Eric felt his limbs push Jacob down playfully onto the mattress. With a smoldering and playful look, his body eyed the man up and down before speaking.

"As much fun as it would be to have you strip me out of the suit, it's new and a bit tight... Give a gal a minute to peel the thing off herself, okay?"

At a nod from Jacob, Eric felt his body languidly sashay over to the bathroom before peeking back at the man resting against the edge of the bed. "I'm going to take this time to freshen up as well. You better be out of those clothes and ready for me by the time I get back, okay?"

______________________________

Erica stepped into the bathroom and began peeling off the bodysuit, talking quietly into the mirror in the meantime.

"You're absolutely lucky that I managed to find us a young and hot one before I had to default to one of the old codgers."

She felt as her host tried to fight back, to speak, but it was a feeble attempt and entirely unnecessary at this point.

"Oh don't you worry yourself about me whoring us out for money. I certainly would have done that had it become necessary, but with Jacob in there we won't ever have to. I've got him wrapped around our little finger already. So long as you don't go and fuck things up after I leave, this is going to be more of a long-term solution than a bang-for-bucks deal."

At this point she was almost stripped of the suit and was running the shower so she could get a quick scrub in before sex. Her host spoke up in their shared head once again, trying to impress upon her the revulsion he held for sex in this form. Little did he know, that revulsion was almost entirely gone by now between the lust and drink.

"I'm sorry that you think this is going to suck, because it sure as heck isn't." She said, stepping into the water and taking one of the bars of hotel soap to her skin in a rush. "Even if the female orgasm wasn't way better than what you used to have, I can guarantee that Jacob's going to be a perfectly attentive lover, and that's the last I'll hear on the topic. We're going to go out there, blow his fucking mind, and you're going to damn well enjoy it!"

What she didn't tell her poor host was that the magic that had changed him and made her had made absolutely certain that they were going to love sex. If the sensation of the oncoming orgasm didn't absolutely shatter what was left of the man, it would certainly shatter what masculinity he had left.

_________________________

Eric swayed in the shower as his body rushed through a quick wash of his refined curves. For the barest of moments, his fingers dipped into his hot and soaking pussy, the sensation greater than anything he had ever felt as a man. Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. He bounced out of the shower, quickly toweling off and heading through the door back to the room where Jacob waited.

True to the puppeteer's request, Jacob had thrown off his clothes and was sitting in the bed naked. The man's eyes blazed with desire as they found the voluptuous form stalking towards the bed. His fiery gaze inflaming the lust burning within Eric's core.

Even as Eric found his resistance wavering, he felt his body throw itself on top of the bed. His leg threw itself over Jacob's torso, bringing his dripping cunt to bare against the man's heated breath. Before he even had a chance to register that thought, his body had found its place over Jacob's waist.

He found his eyes directly in line with a throbbing, erect cock.

Involuntarily, his pussy clenched in desire and he found his pillowed lips descending towards the rod of meat.

Eric found himself lost in the sensations, the tickle of warm breath against his dripping cunt, the feel of his lips pressing into heated flesh, the pressure of stony flesh twitching inside his throat, the glorious tang of salty liquid slathering his tongue. Without even realizing it, Eric was throwing the weight of his own consciousness and effort into the actions of Erica, and he had yet to even be touched.

"Fuuuuuuuck!" Jacob moaned. His voice was low, its rumble pressed into Eric's pussy, battering it with its own wet need. Eric moaned with delight, that core of lust and desire burning ever hotter with his partner's groans of pleasure. He felt his moisture leak and begin to drip from his slit. At that, he pressed his ass further back and wiggled it, clearly communicating to his partner that it was time to do their part of this 69.

A jolt slammed through Eric's body as something parted the flesh of his loins. His feminine form practically convulsed into the dick pressing up into his mouth as something slid through his folds. Not even a moment later, the object seemed to find something just a bit lower and Eric's world went white in ecstasy.

Moments later, Eric's mind cleared enough to realize what was going on. The blinding pleasure was still present, probably even more so, as the object flicked back and forth across the spot that had seized him so strongly. Jacob was clearly eating him out, the man's tongue flicking back and forth across Eric's new clit. It felt like all the best blowjobs he'd ever had concentrated down into the tiniest point and then brought teasingly back and forth across his cock.

It was probably for the better that Eric wasn't in control of his body when Jacob's tongue first darted between his folds. Instead of seizing up in pleasure, his body attacked Jacob's cock all the harder. Eric's lips kissed all the way down to Jacob's balls, the cock penetrating deeply into his throat as he moaned his feminine pleasure into it.

Jacob seemed to take that as a form of challenge.

As Jacob's tongue retreated from Eric's clit, Eric whined at the lack of stimulation. Rather than immediately satisfy Eric's begging, Jacob leaned forward and spoke directly into Eric's quivering quim. "God you're so fucking hot, Erica. I'm gonna make you unravel before me, and when you're done cumming on my mouth I'm going to start the process all over again with my cock."

Jacob's voice rumbled Eric's pussy, sending light waves of pleasure coursing through his core. He waggled his hips once more and as he hummed and licked at Jacob's cock. Something reached up under Eric's waist, grasping his hips tightly so that he couldn't pull away. Before he had any chance to think through what was going on, sensation surrounded his sensitive clit.

Pleasure immediately shot through him, like the warm embrace of a tight vagina around his cock. It was wrong though, different from what he was used to. His hips bucked wildly, unable to move away from the stimulation. He moaned, the vibrations running along Jacob's dick as Eric's mind was consumed by the pleasure radiating from his clit.

Just when he thought that he would pass out from the overwhelming sensations, it stopped. His hips continued to grind against something, and he was vaguely aware of his pussy dripping down Jacob's chin. Jacob had paused, and for the briefest moment Eric thought the man might have given up. Instead, the pressure around his clit turned into suction and the last semblance of control Eric had evaporated.

Eric's body writhed as the orgasm washed over him, his thighs twitching and squeezing against Jacob's face. His hands and arms spasmed against the man's legs. His back arched and his hips bucked against the hold the man had on him. His lips popped off of Jacob's erection and his feminine voice rang out with whines and moans.

"Gooooddddddd, ffffuuuuuuuuuuUUU...." Eric screamed out his pleasure as Jacob continued to suck on his clit.

What felt like an eternity later, the pulses of pleasure ebbed away from Eric's shaking form. Finally coming down from his climax, he flipped over to look at Jacob. The man had a wild grin on his face, one that made Eric's core burn with lust once more. It was his next words, however, that truly set the passions aflame.

"I made you cum first," Jacob rumbled, "but now I'm going to make you mine!"

Eric's legs were hoisted into the air and his ankles were placed atop Jacob's muscular shoulders. Jacob leaned into him, something hot and hard pressing at the soaking entrance to Eric's cunt. With a grunt, Jacob almost seemed to fall forward, piercing into the pussy before him and allowing his lips to seal against the woman's.

Eric, no.... Erica thrust back against the pleasure invading her. The cock grinding into her very core. The blinding pleasure of having her clit licked and sucked mere minutes ago was nothing compared to the velvet spear sliding against her insides at this very moment. It was too much, it was far too good, for the woman that was once Eric to ever consider going without again.

With every thrust into her depths, the ego of Eric shattered and was filled in with that of Erica. By the time she reached her next orgasm, the puppeteer and the puppet were so thoroughly blended together that any form of distinction was meaningless. Any revulsion or differences of desire were washed away in the glorious pleasure of cock.

True to both his own, and the puppeteer's, earlier promise, Jacob made certain that Erica kept cumming. It was only once she was entirely spent, practically a puddle merely milking his cock on instinct alone, that he finally came inside her.

In the days and weeks that followed, Erica was happy to live the life of a surfer beach babe, what she had wished for in the beginning, just with a few changes. She was happy, it wasn't as though the cost of her previous masculinity was really any cost at all in the wake of the beautiful things her husband could do to her.

Erica Weir certainly got to live her happily ever after, just not the one she had always imagined it to be.

************

Author's Note

For those of you who have been reading my work since the last one, I'm sincerely sorry that this took so long to get out. Frankly, I don't feel like this is the pace or quality of work that I've wanted to perform since I started writing erotica. I don't have much of an excuse, it's largely been a fight trying to figure out adhd and diabetes medication since every time I change something with one it seems to screw up the other.

Anyways, I finally felt like I could work on one of the stories that I've had sitting on the backburner basically since the last one was published. I like the concept behind this one and felt like a sweet ending was in store. I feel like I probably should have stretched the sex scene out more, but between the transformation itself being more what interests me and my lack of motivation for the last year, I wanted to get this done and out while I had the focus to work on it.

Please feel free to leave a comment or to reach out to me via DMs with any feedback you guys have, positive or negative. I mostly just love hearing from people who have enjoyed my work enough to have an opinion one way or another. I'm also open to ideas for other concepts within this universe as I've run through my initial set. I'll likely start working on another concept in the near future, probably by the time this gets approved, and I hope to be able to keep the work going on at least something in the days to come.

Thanks again for reading and giving me your precious time and horny!