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The sting is the best part...
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It didn’t take much to spark him these days. A flash of silk from under a dress. A towel falling on the ground before reaching her room. A simple glimpse of her bottom could inspire her roommate’s fancy and she could find herself laying across his lap. But those were the whims of a cosmic deity; anything could be willed into existence simply with a thought. Charlotte just happened to live with such a being; one who often made her the focal point of his urges.
“I want to spank you.” Mark told a slack-jawed Charlie that day.
“Because I want to. Do I need any other reason?” Months of living with Mark still had not blunted the potency of his capricious attitude, nor the shock value of his power. There was no signal for it; one moment Charlie was sitting in his seat and the next he was bent over the couch with his pants on the ground. The sudden jolt from the impact of Mark’s hand forced a groan from Charlie’s lips. The sting of the lingering warmth left behind was intoxicating. It grew and spread with the next smack, sending minor shockwaves of energy through Charlie’s body. Suppleness erupted from underneath the surface of his skin; the beginnings of his transformation. The energy rippled through Charlie’s body with each smack, filling him with erotic desire. It masked the changes, keeping him off balance. It also awakened something within him. A submissive aspect of his personality he had never known up to that point. It linked deeply with his changing body as womanhood pulsed to life inside of him. Muscle dissolved; masculinity faded. Only pleasure and femininity remained. Pressure built up inside Charlie as his flesh finished it’s changes, building to an orgasm that forever altered the being that he was. In Charlie’s place, Charlotte now existed.
The slender thing shivered as she instinctively curled up to her roommate, her mind a flutter with knowledge of her new reality. She was aware of what she what she had been, but also memories of her new now. The conflict of male and female made her hyper aware of her status. She looked up to Mark the question in her eyes before it left her lips.
“Because,” he whispered as he brushed chestnut locks from her face. “I want you to be a girl.” Somehow, that was enough.
Being at the mercy of Mark’s whims was a fairly normal reality. Charlotte explored her new femininity with little interference. She was pleased with the reflection in the mirror, but was prone to blushing whenever her appearance brought her extra attention. She inherited a love of humor and a touch of wit. Mark liked her wit and told her as much as they bonded over the shared secret of her new life. He bought her the first dress she wore and he made her blush whenever he told her she was pretty.
Still, he would tease with little comments and tricks. He would transform her flats into heels just because he liked seeing her click around a little off balance. Sometimes he would put things just out of reach so she would have to stand up on top of something to get it. He would brazenly lift the hem of her skirts and rub her pantied bottom. Charlotte’s eyes would usually flutter and glaze over as she bit her lip to muffle her moans.
“I’ll do it again,” he would whisper to her. “Soon. I want to see all the girls you can be. I want to see your bottom get bigger.” Mark’s teasing would drive Charlotte to relieve her more base desires in her room. The dance between them went on and on until their relationship evolved into something other than just romance. The roles between them morphed into one of control and trust. Charlotte believed he would care for her and he let her wiliness to fulfill his needs sparked his cravings for her. He pushed her to bend, stretch and defer, but never to break.
True to his word, he did do it again. She was wearing a swimsuit when he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Charlotte squealed as she laid over his knees but she didn’t resist. She moaned when the metamorphic energies warmed her body again. She felt herself shift and thicken. Hips spayed outward and her rump grew thicker as the heat in her cheeks intensified. She jiggled more as his hand came down again and again until she was the shape they both wanted her to be. When it was over and both of them caught their breath, Charlotte had be reshaped.
“It will happen again,” he panted as he rubbed her more lush bottom. “I want to see how much more you can be.” She purred in agreement, their new shared kink deepening their bond.
Mark kept her promise to her, training her body to change with the power of his stinging touch. Charlotte shuddered every time he pulled her into his lap, wondering what changes it might bring. Each spanking didn’t always bring new changes, but each change brought more prominence to her rear end. He kept her frame tiny but blessed Charlotte with more curves.
She fought herself begging for more, but he always knew what she wanted by her responses. The way she pushed into the palm of his hand everytime he touched her. Her pleading whimpers when she felt the pulsing growth of her bottom. The skimpy, tight skirts and dresses with the high hem line. Anything to spark Mark’s imagination. Lately, she had found certain kinds of panties really got him going. She hoped her newest purchase would inspire his appetite. If they did, maybe she would need new jeans. . . or shorts. .
Or perhaps nothing at all.