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A Figure to Die For Wednesday 21:30 David held the heavy glass in his upturned hand. He swirled the last drop of whisky and watched the golden light play around the bottom of the crystal glass. He knew he had drunk too much and it was time to go home. He'd stayed longer in the bar than he'd intended, but then there was nothing to rush home for. Jane was out of town for another five days - her new job meant a training course in the country. Glancing up from his thoughts, he saw the woman out the corner of his eye. She was sat at the end of the bar, gazing directly at him and smiling. He looked back at his glass, a little embarrassed. He glanced up again, but this time he shyly returned the smile, thoughtlessly brushing a lock of his short dark hair behind his ear. He watched her as she gently eased herself off her barstool and moved sexily towards him. "Mind if I join you, you look lonely," she said. "Well, I was just about to leave. No, please join me." She was beautiful. He watched her as she sat on the neighbouring stool. Her hair was a mass of golden curls that fell to the small of her back. Her face was beautifully and expertly made-up, with a full sensuous mouth glossed a deep red. Her nose, petite and slightly upturned and her eyes a beautiful emerald green. Her eye make-up that gave her a dark and exotic look. He glanced at her hands; they were tiny and exquisite. And her nails were long, deep red and perfect. But it was her figure that caught his eye. She was wearing a revealing tight red dress that showed off her ample breasts and the outline of her large, dark nipples showed through the fine material of the dress. Her waist was narrow, almost too narrow for the size of her bust and the outward curve of her hips perfectly matched the narrowness of her dainty waist. She had shapely, smooth legs and on her delicate feet she wore red high heel shoes. It was a figure to die for. "What are you drinking?" he asked. "No, I'll get this one." She called the barman over. "Same again" she said pointing to his glass. "And a whiskey for me." She turned directly towards him. "No one to go home for?" "Not tonight," he replied. "My girlfriend's away." "Perfect. Then you could spend the night with me." She looked directly at him, waiting for a reaction. He was taken aback by her directness, but tried to stay cool. "But you don't know me," he said. She smiled. "Let's say I'm a sucker for a pretty face. And it would just be for one night only." She laughed a complicated laugh. "I'm very flattered," he said, "but I've got a very long day tomorrow. And I'm blissfully happy with my girlfriend. I really couldn't let her down." She laughed. "You won't be interested in other women after you've been with me." Reaching towards him she gently stroked the back of his hand with her long nails. He slowly shook his head, staring at the perfection in front of him. "You'll regret this in the morning." "I know," he said sadly and smiled at her. She looked longingly at him and then moved close, her deep red lips almost brushing his ear. Then in a whisper she said, "We could have been one - perhaps we still can." Before he could speak, she smiled and kissed her fingertip, and then delicately touched his nose and lips with a long red fingernail. A rush of erotic pleasure seared through him. His chest and groin ached from the intensity of the emotion. He closed his eyes as the fire soared, then peaked. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. She had gone. He left the bar and walked home. Once or twice he thought he heard a woman's footsteps behind him. He turned quickly and looked, but there was no one there. Wednesday 22:15 He arrived home and checked his voice-mail. There was only one message - Jane had had a good day on the course, but was going to bed early. She would phone the following day. He made himself a light snack, then showered and washed his hair. He went into the bedroom wrapped in a bath towel. Standing in front of the dressing table mirror he inspected his body. He'd started going to a gym a few weeks before and was just starting to see the results. He'd definitely acquired a few muscles, his shoulders looked broader and his chest and waist was getting quite firm. He posed in front of the mirror, flexing his muscles. He suddenly thought about the woman from the bar. He realised he could still feel a slight ache in his chest and groin from when she'd touched him. He ran his fingers across his broad hairy chest, and gently massaged his pectoral muscles. He could feel that the area around his tiny nipples was a little sore. Then he felt his groin and penis; it was definitely tender. He'd have to see how he felt in the morning, but he was too tired to worry now. Climbing into bed, he quickly fell asleep. Thursday 03:45 She was there in his dreams, the girl from the bar, smiling the same seductive smile. She was there in his bedroom, walking sensuously towards him, arms outstretched, demanding his submission. He could see she was speaking to him, but he couldn't hear the words. He strained to listen, but there was no sound. She seemed to be saying the same phrase over and over again. "Please, I can't hear," he said and tried to lift his head. "I can't hear you." She smiled. He tried to get up, but he couldn't move from the bed. He smelt the fragrance of her perfume as she moved close to him. She bent down and carefully lifted his head, cradling him to her bosom as if he were a new-born baby. She gently kissed his ear. Then in a barely audible whisper she spoke to him. "We will be one." He tried to turn his head and look up at her. She smiled and kissed her fingertip, and then with infinite care touched his nose and lips with a long red fingernail. He closed his eyes as the sensation overwhelmed him. It started around his lips. A feeling of ecstasy that spread like tiny fingers across his face and scalp, making him gasp with delight. His bones and skin seemed to be shifting and reshaping as the energy surged through him. It moved on, down his neck and chest, sending his muscles into exquisite spasms. His stomach contracted in anticipation of pleasure, before it flowed onwards, downwards to his groin. It felt like his body shape was being transformed and remoulded in a different image and he knew he could do nothing to stop it. He tried to rouse himself, but there was no release from his dream. He could feel the energy flowing down and out of his body and into hers. He knew his very soul was being drawn with it. He instinctively knew that this woman was consuming him and that he was to become a part of her. Opening his eyes he looked down. He could see his own body lying on the bed below him. He could feel the weight of his head cradled against her breasts. He felt the movement of her long hair against her back. Her body gave a shiver and he felt the tiny hairs on her arms rise. He and the woman were one. And he saw her thoughts in his mind. And he understood her needs and cravings, and saw what she intended for him. He tried to scream. Suddenly he felt the dizzying sensation of falling and he knew that she was returning him to his body. He lay on the bed looking up at her, still unable to move. He knew that he was now different, that she had changed him. He felt incomplete, as if she'd taken something important from him. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't form the words. Her expression was one of satisfaction as she gently laid his head down onto the pillow. He watched as she turned and walked slowly towards the darkness in the far corner of his room. She stopped and turned to him, and spoke softly - "It will be worth the pain, my love. You'll see." She blew him a kiss, turned and was gone. Thursday 07:30 He awoke and lay motionless, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't feel well. His head and joints ached. He licked his lips; they felt swollen and dry. The sudden dull pain in his chest brought back memories of the woman in the bar; and then he remembered the dream. It had seemed so real; he even thought he could smell the woman's perfume on his pillow. It was still dark outside and he could hear heavy rain tapping against the bedroom window. As he slowly rolled over and looked at his bedside clock, a loose strand of hair fell across his face. Unconsciously, he pushed the hair behind his ear and rolled back against the pillow. He lay still for a while, feeling warm and comfortable under the quilt. The bed felt spacious and roomy around him, almost as if it had grown during the night. He slowly stretched out his arms to touch the sides of the bed, and then he stretched his legs to touch the bottom of the bed. It definitely felt bigger. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him. He had to be coming down with a temperature. He really couldn't miss work today; he'd got an important meeting to attend. But he felt too weak to get up and he knew he'd be better off here in his warm bed. Suddenly he had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach and he knew he was going to be sick. Throwing back the quilt, he ran into the bathroom, as the nausea rose in him, engulfing him. Exhausted, he sat on the bathroom carpet holding onto the toilet bowl, staring at the floor, waiting for the ache in his stomach to stop. Long thick hair hung like a dark veil around his face and over his narrow shoulders. He looked up and unconsciously tucked the long strands back behind his ears. "I feel terrible," he thought to himself. "I am going to have to phone into work." He got up and slowly walked back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed he gently stretched and ran his fingers back through his long, dark hair. The feel of his hair touching his bare back gave him a satisfying, ticklish sensation and sent an involuntary shiver through his body. He sat for a while, staring at the carpet. Still his head and body ached. He thought again of the woman and the vivid dream, and he remembered the strange feeling he'd had that she'd somehow changed him. He knew it was absurd, but he had that same feeling again. He looked down at himself, at his body, but he could see nothing that was different. Flicking his hair back over his shoulders, he effortlessly stretched forward and gently ran his hands over his tiny feet and ankles, and smooth shapely legs. He traced the curve of his buttocks and hips, and the line of his flat stomach, then rested his hands on the inward curve of his narrow waist. He ran his fingers over his tiny penis and through his long, silky pubic hair. He gently caressed his soft, hairless chest with his fingertips, sending a sudden tingle through his body. He could feel a slight swelling round his large dark nipples and they did feel a little sensitive, but he could see nothing that had changed from yesterday. He looked at his tiny hands. He couldn't remember letting his nails get so long. Jane always kept hers neatly filed and painted, but his seemed to be longer than hers had ever been. He crossed to her dressing table and opened her manicure set, looking for the nail scissors. Without thinking, he took out an emery board and sat down at Jane's dressing table. Delicately resting his left hand on the dressing table, he slowly and expertly shaped each nail into a perfect long oval. He did the same with the right hand, and then carefully manicured each of his nails, leaving them perfect. When he'd finished, he selected a bottle of Jane's deepest red nail varnish and with great care painted each of his long flawless nails. He sat for a while, fascinated with the elegance of his tiny hands. He suddenly remembered the time; he knew he couldn't go to work feeling this ill. He'd have to phone and explain. Crossing to the bedside phone he picked up the receiver. Unconsciously flicking his long hair away from his ear, he listened for the dialling tone. A long red nail pressed the number pad. Alice answered. "Malvern Associates. How may I help you?" "Alice, it's Dave," he said. "And ... are you ringing on behalf of Dave?" she asked. "It's Dave! I think it's some sort of virus. Won't be in today ." "Sorry? Is that you Jane?" asked Alice. But he wasn't listening. The feeling of nausea had come over him again. He slammed down the receiver and ran into the bathroom. The sickness rose in him and he couldn't stop himself. Wearily, he knelt in front of the toilet bowl, his stomach, chest and groin aching from the convulsions. He held his long hair back behind his head to avoid the sticky mess and stayed motionless waiting for the ache in his body to subside. Gradually and cautiously he moved. He turned away from the bowl and, on hands and knees, crawled back onto the deep pile of the bedroom carpet. He reached his bed, slowly pulled back a corner of the quilt and, exhausted, climbed under the cover. In seconds he had fallen into a deep sleep. Thursday 12:05 After a few hours he woke and opened his eyes. He lay motionless, staring up at the ceiling. He was holding the quilt so tightly under his chin that he felt his nails digging into his hands. Cautiously turning his head, he saw his long dark hair lying across the pillow next to him. He felt small and alone and afraid. Tears began to well and in spite of himself he began to sob. He buried his face in the quilt, his shoulders convulsing with emotion, his hands gripping the cover. "Oh, this is so stupid," he said to himself, his chin trembling with emotion. "I don't even know why I'm crying." But he couldn't stop himself. Finally he lay still, too exhausted to cry any more - salty tears blurring his eyes. He wiped his face on the cover. He tried to make sense of how he felt. At least he felt warm and comfortable here in bed. He tried to recall what was so important at the office today, but he couldn't really remember. He still had the peculiar feeling in his chest and groin, but the dull ache had now been replaced by a pleasant tingling sensation. Wearily he lifted his hand to his face and delicately touched his cheek with his fingertip; his skin felt soft and smooth. He traced the outline of his mouth and the curve of his lips, and then ran his finger over his small upturned nose. His lips still felt a little swollen. With a great effort he sat up against the pillow and pulled the cover protectively over his chest. Carefully gathering his long hair from behind him, he arranged it neatly over his shoulders onto the quilt. He lay quietly against the pillow, unconsciously running his long nails through his hair. He looked down at the outline of his body under the cover. Flattening the quilt around him with his hands, he gently marked the line of his legs and the curve of his hips and slender waist with his fingertips. Moving his palms slowly over the quilt, he explored the flatness of his groin and stomach, then ran his hands up over the curve of his swollen chest. He felt an involuntary shiver as his hands brushed his large nipples under the cover and he felt them tighten. A feeling of pleasure flowed through him as their unmistakable outline appeared through the cover. He looked with satisfaction at the curves of his small, shapely body and his beautiful long hair lying around him. He felt delicate and soft and intensely feminine, and he loved the way he felt. He closed his eyes, delighting in the sensations flowing through him. Suddenly a moment of doubt crept into his mind, and he felt confused and ashamed of what he was feeling. Before he could stop himself he began to sob. He had to pull himself together. He looked at the bedside clock; Jane wouldn't be ringing for another five hours. At least she'll be sympathetic; he just wished she were here with him. He tried to imagine what it would be like when she got home; the two of them in bed together. He tried to picture her lying naked next to him. He tried to remember the sensation of making love to her, of touching and feeling her. But the memory wouldn't come to him. "This is so stupid," he thought to himself. He couldn't even recall Jane's face. Tears began to well in his eyes. He tried picturing the scene again. In his imagination he was alone in the bedroom, anxious for his lover to arrive. The lights were dim and smell of perfume was heavy in the air. He could see himself, lying naked, stretched across the bed like a beautiful sleek cat, with long sharp red claws and sensuous deep red lips, purring with pleasure. He could see his long dark hair spread seductively across the pillow. Slowly the door opens and a figure enters, moving cautiously and deliberately towards him. He reaches out eagerly, begging them to come to him, to take him. They reach down and gently touch the curve of his breasts with their fingertips. He sighs and tenderly runs his fingers across their broad chest. Then slowly, he draws his long nails down his lover's firm body to their large erect penis. He giggles, teasing them with the sharpness of his talons, then slowly and eagerly runs his tongue over the length of their swollen shaft, licking its tip like a sensuous hungry cat. He looks up, a seductive smile flickering across his lips; he gently kisses his fingertip and touches the tip of their nose and lips with a long red fingernail. The image sent a wave of pleasure through his body. Unconsciously his left hand moved under the quilt and found his budding breasts and his large erect nipples, making him gasp with pleasure. His right hand moved to his groin, desperate to reach deep inside and feed the hunger that was opening in him. Frantically probing with his fingers, he found only the small swelling where his testes had been and a tiny opening, all that now remained of his penis. Unable to satisfy the yearning, he instinctively cupped his hands around his tiny breasts and began massaging and caressing them, sending his body into ecstasy. He ran his nails down over his stomach and inner thighs, then slowly up over the curve of his bosom, leaving dark red weals on his skin. He gently stroked his nipples, teasing them until they were so hard that he thought they would pass-out with pleasure. He had never felt like this before in his life. His body felt sensuous and alive, and he wanted to touch and feel and stroke every part of it. He wanted to feel the sharpness of his long nails against his skin. He wanted to run his fingers through the delicious weight of his beautiful long hair. He wanted to caress and fondle the curves of his breasts and feel the hardness of his nipples. But he knew the one thing he most desired and the only thing that could feed the insatiable lust burning in him was the feel of a strong, beautiful, sexy man thrusting deep into him. The image made him climax. He threw his head back and screamed with the force of the orgasm, his back instinctively arching, tilting his pelvis upward to allow his imaginary lover to thrust deeper. He heard himself moaning and he felt his body rhythmically twisting and turning, while his whole self seemed to melt away until all that was left was pure feeling. He lay still, basking in the ecstasy, his nerve ends tingling. His body glowed from the intensity and satisfaction of his first female orgasm. He slowly slid down under the cover and pulled the quilt over his head, delighting in the feel of the silky fabric against his body. He closed his eyes in the darkness. He tried to remember who he was. Who had he been yesterday? The name David came into his mind, but he smiled at the absurdity of the thought. "This body could never be mistaken for a little boy's" he giggled sexily to himself, cuddling his swelling breasts and moaning with pleasure. His thoughts drifted as he curled up under the quilt, and slowly fell asleep embracing the soft curves of his chest and dreaming of young naked men. Thursday 16:25 He opened his eyes in the darkness. He was lying on his side, still curled up under the quilt. His knees were drawn tight to his chest and his head rested snugly against his narrow shoulder. He could feel his long hair wrapped around him under the cover and he felt warm and secure and he didn't want to move. The phone had rung twice during the afternoon, but he'd felt too comfortable to get up and answer it. As he lay in the blackness, thoughts of men came into his mind again and he could feel his body responding. A hunger was growing in him; he could feel it in the pit of his stomach and it rose up through his delicate, soft body. It was a hunger that would have to be fed. There was no question in his mind that he would have to get up and dressed. And he knew what he was going to have to do tonight. The thought sent a tingle of pleasure through his body, and he felt his nipples become hard and erect. His hands moved to cup his now large and fully developed breasts, and he gave a gasp of delight as he stroked the exaggerated curves of his bosom. "Just wait till the boys see me," he thought to himself and smiled. He pulled back the quilt and slowly sat up. His heavy breasts swayed as he gently eased himself onto the edge of the bed. Looking down at himself, he couldn't believe how beautiful he was, his long hair caressing his ample bosom, large dark nipples, slender waist, curvaceous hips and smooth, shapely legs. The impulse came to him again; he had to get ready. Slowly he got to his feet, unconsciously flicking his long hair back over his shoulders with his hands. His legs felt weak and he held onto the bed for support. He glanced down; his feet looked too small and delicate to support his new body. He tried to stand, but he felt unbalanced. The weight of his large breasts seemed to be pulling him forward, while the curve of his tiny waist and rounded hips made his lower body feel awkward. He felt frustrated as he gently wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, tears gently rolling down his cheeks. Taking short unsteady steps across the deep pile of the bedroom carpet, he felt like a small child learning to walk. "What's happened to me?" he sobbed to himself, but he didn't have an answer. Tears fell from his cheeks onto the soft expanse of his chest and flowed gently down between his breasts. He wanted to rest, but the hunger was growing stronger. He had to get ready for tonight. He took a small step forward. Then he took another step. Then another. He walked unsteadily back and forth across the room, stopping every few steps to wipe the salty tears from his eyes and cheeks. Without noticing, each step brought tiny changes in him, as he adjusted to his new body shape. His shoulders gradually pulled back to support the unfamiliar weight of his large breasts. His bust pushed forward. His dainty hands moved out from his side to counter-balance the movement of his hips and breasts. His stomach and buttocks tightened to hold the posture, while he felt his hips give a natural sway. He could feel a slight wiggle in his walk and he exaggerated the motion as he moved. He walked back and forth across the carpet, feeling like a model on a catwalk, enjoying the suppleness and grace of his new body. He laughed out loud and shook his head, tossing his long hair forward over his shoulders and breasts. Turning, he walked confidently towards the dressing table mirror and stopped, staring at the reflection in front of him. There was a beautiful, young, naked woman looking back at him, smiling with satisfaction. A mane of dark curly hair framed her beautiful and utterly feminine face. He touched his chest and saw the woman gently cup her own large perfect breasts. He moved his hands and saw long red nails move delicately over her generous bosom making the woman gasp with pleasure and making him giggle. He half-turned and saw the woman run her hands over her curvy hips and buttocks. A seductive smile came to his lips, and he saw it reflected in her beautiful face. He had to get ready. He had to be perfect for tonight. He switched on the shower and took out Jane's shampoo from the bathroom cabinet. The phone started to ring in the bedroom. Hesitantly, he picked up the receiver. "Hello Dave, are you there?" Silence. "Dave is that you? It's Jane." He hesitated. "I wasn't well and I needed you to hold me" he said in a high, feminine voice and started to cry. "But you weren't here for me.' "Who is this?" asked Jane "...And now I feel different. I don't know what's happened," he sobbed. "I'm very sorry, but I think I've got the wrong number" She put the phone down. He held the receiver to his ear, hoping to hear her voice, but she'd gone. He slowly put the receiver down, as tears rolled down his face. He felt lost and alone. Without warning the hunger was growing again. He closed his eyes as he felt his body involuntarily shudder. Behind him the phone rang again, but he wasn't listening. His whole body was crying out for release from the fire that was burning in him and the intensity of his craving was almost too painful for him to endure. He turned towards the mirror and saw his own beautiful reflection, and recognised a look of pure lust in his pale blue feminine eyes. His mind was suddenly clear and focused. He could sense that the boy was close to the house, long before the lad arrived at the front door. Intuitively he knew it was a boy in his mid-teens. He could smell the fragrance of the boy's masculinity and the hormones flowing through his body. He knew the boy was immature, but he'd take what he needed from him. He turned and opened Jane's spare make-up box, searching for the deepest reddest lipstick he could find. Finding one that perfectly matched the colour of his nails, he leant towards the mirror and carefully applied the crimson gloss to his lips. He smiled to himself in the mirror and ran the tip of his tongue over his perfect, red lips. His hair looked a mess, but he knew he still looked sexy. Crossing to the wardrobe he took out his old dressing gown and put it on. He tied the cord tightly around his tiny waist, and pulled the top of the dressing gown open to show off his cleavage. Gathering his long hair, he carefully arranged it over his shoulders and breasts. A curious thought came to him as he watched his reflection in the mirror and he touched his groin through the material. He felt his finger slip into the opening of his vagina. He gasped and closed his eyes for a second, then his mind refocused on the boy. Thursday 17:25 Tom was enjoying his first day of work. A friend of the family had offered him a job delivering orders for a local grocer. The old bike had been awkward to handle at first, but he'd soon got the hang off it. Now it was starting to get quite late and he'd still got a couple of deliveries to do before he could go home. The old man in the store had explained exactly where to go for his last two calls, but he must have taken a wrong turning somewhere. And now he was in an area that he didn't recognise. He tried to get a signal in his mobile phone, but his phone was dead. The old house in the cul-de-sac looked like it had been converted into flats and he could see a light on in one of the downstairs rooms. At least they may be able to give him directions. Parking his bicycle against a wall, he cautiously opened the front door and walked down the dimly lit hallway. The occupied flat was at the far end on the right. He stopped and listened for movement behind the door, but the whole house seemed deathly quiet He knocked loudly and waited. Behind the door he heard what sounded like a girl giggling, and then the door slowly opened. "Er ... excuse me. I'm trying to find Central Avenue. Do you know where it is?" She pulled the door slowly open and looked at him, a seductive smile played on her deep red lips. He looked at her and felt himself going red with embarrassment. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in real life, more like someone out of a magazine. Lost for words, he looked down at the old dressing gown she was wearing and saw the curve of her large breasts under the fabric. Realising that he was staring, he looked at her apologetically. "Sorry to disturb you ... I'd better go." "I thought you were lost," she said quietly. "I know the area. Come in, I might be able to help." She opened the door and motioned for him to enter. "I didn't want to disturb you," Tom said nervously. "That's ok, I was just going to have a shower. You see, I have to go out later." He nodded, as if he understood her meaning, and followed her into the living room. "Like a drink?" "Yes ... thanks," he said starting to relax a little. "Sit down." Obediently he sat on the sofa. She returned from the kitchen with a Coke and a glass and handed them to him. "You'll have to open the can, I can't manage it now I have these," she said and held out her hands to show him her long red nails. "They ... they are very beautiful," he said blushing. "Thank you, I rather like them," she said with satisfaction. He looked round at the room, noticing the tasteful decor, and then glanced back at the woman. She was watching him so intently that it made him feel uncomfortable. "I really ought to be leaving, it's getting very late" he said, starting to get up. "You were asking about Central Avenue?" She put her hand on his shoulder and gently eased him back onto the seat. "It's only around the corner. You can be there in two minutes, so there's no need to hurry away." He sat back on the sofa and sipped his drink. As she sat down next to him and he slyly glanced at her chest. He could almost see her nipples. "What's your name?" she asked quietly. "Tom," he replied. "I'll bet you've never been alone with a woman before, have you Tom?" She moved closer to him on the sofa. He shook his head tensely. "And now you're here, and I'm not going to tell anyone you've been here," she said and traced the outline of his lips with her nail. "And you're not going to tell anyone you've been here, are you Tom?" He shook his head, unable to form the words. "You like breasts, don't you Tom?" He nodded and felt himself getting hot. "Would you like to know what breasts feel like?" His could feel his trousers getting tight. She laughed quietly and took Tom's hand. Then, pulling back the top of her dressing gown she gently placed his hand on her breasts. She moved his hand rhythmically over her nipples, letting him feel the curve of her bosom. "I like you Tom," she said and kissed her fingertip. "Perhaps we can be one." He looked puzzled, as she kissed her fingertip and delicately ran a long red fingernail across his smooth cheek and touched his nose and lips. Tom felt a strange sensation, starting first in his lips, then creeping down to his chest and groin. She kept her fingertip pressed firmly to his lips, as gradually wave after wave of pleasure surged through his body. Looking up, he saw the woman had her eyes closed and was groaning with satisfaction. He suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of nausea, then blackness. Thursday 17:45 David looked down at the boy on the sofa and tried to understand what he'd just done. Tears welled in his pale blue eyes as he stroked the boy's hair. It was already starting to feel softer and longer than before, and his features were becoming noticeably more delicate. But he hadn't been able to help himself. He remembered the terrible hunger and the uncontrollable compulsion to touch the boy's lips. And he remembered the feeling of satisfaction from the touch. He needed more and he knew the hunger would soon be back. He went into the bathroom to get ready. Thursday 17:50 Tom opened his eyes and heard the sound of the shower. He remembered where he was, but not what had happened. He simply knew he had to get out the house. After fumbling with the door lock he ran down the hallway and into the street, grateful to be out of the confines of the flat. Remembering to grab his delivery bike he dashed down the road and out of the cul-de-sac. He ran until he found himself back in the glare of the main street. Thursday 18:30 David dried and brushed his waist length hair, as if he'd done it all his life. He instinctively knew how to make his hair look beautiful. Opening Jane's wardrobe he took out her favourite blue dress and matching high heels. He knew the dress would be tight on him, but it would help to emphasise his figure. And he knew the shoes would be a perfect fit. He found the lace underwear and stockings he'd bought her for Christmas and delicately laid them on the bedside chair. The bra wouldn't be of any use, as his breasts were much larger than Jane's. He was about to put on his makeup when he heard the knock at the door. Alice had been worried about him all day. She knew David was on his own this week and it wasn't like him to miss a day at work. She knocked again. He sensed that the woman at the door was of no use to him. He and she were the same sex now. He turned and opened a pack of deep blue eye shadow. She knocked again and heard a movement behind the door. "Dave! Is that you? Are you all right? It's Alice!" He stopped. Her voice reached deep within him, and something far off in the back of his mind cried out. He slowly picked up his old dressing gown and, lifting his long hair with his hand, slipped it on. He cautiously walked towards the door. "Dave? Are you there?" Slowly his tiny hand turned the handle. Alice waited as the door slowly opened. "Dave are you...oh!" She was looking into the face of a beautiful young woman in her early twenties. She was petite, with beautiful long dark hair and stunning figure. "I'm sorry, I was looking for Dave Jackson's flat." "Alice?" the woman said in a timid little girl voice. Her face showed bewilderment and tears welled in her eyes. "Alice, I don't know what's happened." She raised a hand timidly to her face and Alice noticed her perfect long red nails. "This is Dave Jackson flat, isn't it! And Jane's away this week! To think I was actually worried about him today. Well, you can tell him he's nothing but a bastard." Alice turned and strode out of the hallway. David stood in the doorway, tears rolling down his face. He wanted to shout to her but he knew he couldn't. He stepped back into the room and slowly closed the door. The hunger started without warning and he doubled up in pain as his body screamed to be fed. He knew that the boy wouldn't be enough for him, but he thought it would last him longer than this. This time the craving was intense and he fell to the floor. Raising himself onto his hands and knees he crawled into the bedroom and pulled himself up onto the bed. He pulled off his dressing gown and lay with his eyes closed. He knew there only one way to relieve the torment, but he was now too weak to go out of the flat. His whole body screamed with hunger. Thursday 19:45 David suddenly felt calm and he knew he was dying and it didn't seem to bother him. He knew he was on a path that he could no longer turn off. He tried to remember who he was, who he'd been, but the memories had gone. He wearily looked down at himself and raised his hands to his breasts. He watched his bosom slowly rise and fall, his delicate hands gently cupping the soft flesh of his chest. Closing his eyes, his right hand reached down and gently touched the moist lips of his vulva and he gently ran his nails through his long, silky pubic hair. He hesitated for a moment, then slipped one finger into his vagina. His back instinctively arched, tilting his pelvis, allowing him to reach deeper. He groaned. He felt his nipples become hard and erect under his hand and he tenderly massaged them with his palm. His body gently rocked in time with the motion of his hands, the pleasure rising perceptibly in him. He cried out as he orgasmed again and again and again. He screamed a high pitched feminine scream. Suddenly, his mind was clear and he remembered the woman in the bar. He remembered who he had been and he saw what he had become. And he knew that he would have to feed the hunger for all eternity. There was one last shudder and his body shook and he screamed with ecstasy. He thought of Jane and he felt sad. Thursday 22:10 Steve had had a bad day and desperately needed a drink. His boss had given him a hard time from the moment he'd arrived at work. He tried to get the report finished, but he had just run out of time. Another day and it would have been completed. But, of course, that wasn't good enough. He'd had to stay late. He'd spotted the bar as he drove home. The welcoming Budweiser sign had caught his eye and he knew he had to stop. He ordered a drink and sat for a while, staring at his reflection behind the bar. He saw her out the corner of his eye. The woman was sat at the end of the bar, looking directly at him and smiling. He smiled back. "Want to join me?" he said. "You look a little lonely sat there." "Thank you" she said and gave a small appreciative bow of her head. He watched as she gently eased herself off her barstool and moved seductively towards him. She was beautiful and seemed out of place here. She gently lifted herself onto the neighbouring stool and delicately tossed a lock of her long dark hair over her shoulder. She looked directly at him. Her hair was beautiful, thick and long and it hung, with her natural curls, to the small of her narrow back. Her mouth was glossed a deep crimson and her lips were full and pouty. Her nose was small and slightly upturned, and her eyes were a beautiful sparkling pale blue. Her expertly applied eye make-up gave her a slightly foreign appearance. He glanced at her hands; they were tiny and delicate. And her nails were long, deep red and perfect. But he couldn't help but notice her figure. Her tight blue dress showed every curve of her ample, firm breasts. He could see her large, dark nipples through the fine material of the frock. Her waist was tiny, emphasising the size of her breasts. The curve of her hips perfectly complemented the slenderness of her dainty waist. She had shapely, smooth legs and on her tiny feet she wore blue high heel shoes. It was a figure to die for. Epilogue Tom stood in sister's bedroom and smiled at himself in the full-length mirror. He knew when he left the woman's flat, that he couldn't go straight home. His parents would be there and he needed to be on his own tonight. He had a key to his sister's house and, as she wasn't back from holiday for another week, he'd quietly let himself in. Getting away from the woman's flat had been an odd experience. He'd tried riding his delivery bicycle, but found that he couldn't keep his balance and had to stretch to reach the pedals. And the sensation in his groin and chest felt so uncomfortable that he'd decided to walk back to the shop. He'd noticed a few people giving him peculiar glances along the way, but he'd just ignored them. By the time he got back the shop it was in darkness and had closed for the night, so he pushed the bicycle into the yard at the back. Finally out of view of the crowds, he stood in the darkness and leant against the wall. He felt different, but he couldn't think why. His clothes felt loose and baggy, as if he'd lost weight, but his shirt felt painfully tight across his chest. Unbuttoning his shirt in the darkness, he felt a sudden relief as his chest was released from confines of his shirt and he slowly massaged away the tension and tightness. Hearing a nearby car horn he remembered where he was and he felt vulnerable and exposed being outside. He had to get indoors somewhere. His sister only lived ten minutes away. Holding his jacket tight at the front, he ran through the dark streets to her house. What had the woman said? "Would you like to know what breasts feel like?" He laughed a complicated laugh and flicked his long hair back off his narrow shoulders and touched the generous curves of young bosom. The End