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A loud, grating buzzing woke James and he reached across for the source. Picking up the handset he put it to his ear and croaked "Hello?" "This is your seven o'clock wake up call." The line went dead. James put the handset back on the 'phone. "What was that?" His wife, Emily, turned towards him. His wife, he smiled, he was going to have to get used to that! "I don't know! A wake-up call I never asked for." Emily smiled at him. Suddenly he felt her hand reaching around his morning wood. "How about a wake-up call you did ask for, Mister Roberts?" "Sounds good, Mrs Roberts." The two newlyweds were waking up on their first day of marital bliss. After five and a half years together they'd tied the knot with friends and family then flown out to a chain of islands in the Indian Ocean. At the cost of the deposit on a small house they'd booked a tiny cabina in a beach resort restricted to just thirty guests, owned by a reclusive billionaire who wanted to provide the ultimate vacation. Their pleasurable proximity in the satin sheets was invaded by a regular noise, a beep which seemed to be coming from across the room. It irritated James enough that he couldn't focus on what Emily was doing to him. "What is that?!" he growled. Emily paused and he took the opportunity to climb out of the sheets and walk towards the sound. Peering under an antique leather-topped desk he spotted a strange device. On top of it was a clear, digital clock counting down, presently showing just over two hours and fifty seven minutes remaining. "Emily," he called quietly, "come and have a look at this." The lithe blonde rolled over with a complaining grunt and strolled round to her husband. She put her hand on his back and crouched down. "James, is that a bomb?" The combination of wires, canisters, circuit boards and the timer looked like everything the commodities trader had ever seen in a movie. "I guess it could be." "Should we tell reception?" "And get out of here? I think so." The two dressed simply and quickly, James getting to the door first, but though the handle moved the door wouldn't open. "Go, honey," said his wife from right behind him. "The door won't open." He tried shaking it, harder, then pushing and pulling it, but it wouldn't budge. "Honey," a note of worry entered his voice, "could you give reception a call?" Emily scurried to the phone. Lifting the receiver to her ear she heard "this is your seven o'clock wake up call" before the line went dead. Pressing the buttons did nothing. Pressing the receiver down caused the message to repeat again. "Um, James, it's not a phone, it's just a tape recorder that keeps playing the wake-up call." The marketing manager with a First in Philosophy knew how to think her way quickly through a problem and summarise it. "Windows?" James was already at one. "Sealed. I guess because of the aircon." "We're in one of those puzzle rooms, right?" Emily turned from the phone to look at James. "Let's assume there is a key to get out, we just have to find it, by following the instructions." "What happens if we don't get out?" "Is that a real bomb?" "If it is?" "We'd better get out." The only writing they could find was the hotel guide on the leather-top table. Bound in chocolate brown leather itself, with gold-leaf embossing it was a beautiful document. The pages were thick and heavy, they didn't feel like paper. The guide seemed to be fairly standard, with contacts for room service, information on laundry services, and restaurant times at the main resort buildings. Under the section on emergencies James found a strange title. 'Bomb - This is not an explosive device but is timed to release a gas within the hermetically sealed cabina which will kill all living organisms and leave the rooms perfectly disinfected ready for the next arrivals.' He pointed Emily at the section and they both looked at each other. "If we don't get out of here, we're going to die," stated James. "Why the fuck would they use such a fucking idiotic cleaning system." Emily spat. "There's gotta be something else in here!" She continued leafing through the book. "That!" she shouted suddenly, briefly pointing to the section on 'Gifts', and turned to the cabinet the phone was on pulling open the drawer. She pulled out an expensive looking jewellery box. The box lid said 'Links' with a logo of linked rings underneath. Inside were two chunky silver bracelets and a booklet. She opened the booklet and started to read. James sat next to her on the bed. "Like Hell!" she suddenly exclaimed. "What is it?" "So we each wear a bracelet, and once on they give us the ability to transform each other." "Like Hell," James echoed. "Let me read that." The booklet stated that once both were clipped on, the bracelets would switch on and allow each wearer to transform the wearer of the other bracelet in any way they desired, limited only by regular human bounds. When switched off, the wearer could no longer transform the other, but could still be transformed until taken off. "They're pretty bracelets," he noted, solid silver-coloured metal with an ornate design all around, a small chain holding the ends together until they were clipped on, and three red stones set into the top, the central slightly larger than the other two. He picked one up and put his hand through it. "Can't hurt to try." Clicking it shut he noted all three stones changed colour to green. "I guess not," Emily agreed, slipping the second, twin onto her wrist. "It's very nice." She admired it as she clipped it closed. Suddenly her face changed. "I really need a pee!" "Check the door works!" "It opens." She smiled briefly back at him as she ran in, and slammed it thoughtlessly behind her. Lifting her dress and dropping her knickers to her ankles she sat and relaxed. She dabbed with the incredibly soft paper rather than using the bidet, which she was curious to try but really, not right now. Standing facing the mirror whilst washing her hands she took a good look at her fresh face. It was her first look at herself on the first full day of being a married woman. Was there anything different? Her nose was the same, still just that slight bit too piggy, she thought. And her lips were too big, but they always had been. She liked thinner lips, thinking they looked more businesslike and purposeful. Her eyes were still beautiful though, shiny, and she loved looking for the emerald green flecks in the hazel. No, getting married hadn't suddenly made her ugly. She could still tilt her head, dropping her long chestnut hair to one side, and pout slightly and James would do whatever she wanted him to do. Big, brash, beautiful James. Whilst she loved the thrill of uncertainty when he lost control of his powerful emotions, she revelled in the more constant challenge of finding his buttons, using the right positions, poses and phrases to incite him to lust or calm his temper. Right now she thought, as she dried her hands and pursed her lips, she had to hold him straight as she figured out what was going to get them out of a sealed room before the crazy cleaning kit killed them. She pulled the door handle. "James!" he heard in the bedroom. "The door's locked." He jumped up and headed towards it, quickly, intending to shove it open. "There's a button above it saying 'exit' but I can't reach it." He stopped his imminent charge. "Is there anything you can step on?" "Sorry, honey, good idea, but no," came the instant response. He tried the door anyway, but it wasn't going to budge. Not even when he asked her to stand back and did finally charge it. No way in from the outside, and no button his side to open it. "Can you reach it jumping?" "Honey, I'm five two. I can't even jump to reach the top of these doors!" Her intellect was failing her as she recognised that panic was about to set in. "Taller!" she shouted. "I need to be taller!" "How?" "Concentrate, James, think about me being taller." Suddenly she felt it, her eyeline was rising against the door. She didn't feel stretched but felt slightly disoriented with a mild uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Then the motion stopped, and momentarily she felt that her whole body was out of place, her hands slightly out of reach, before it all seemed to click back naturally together. She looked up, and reached for the button above the door, able to press it and hear the door unlock. Pulling on the handle, which was now around her hip height, she stepped out of the little room. James gasped. Emily stood taller than his five ten, looking stunningly beautiful at a statuesque six feet something. "It worked! It honest to God worked!" "Wow!" She smiled. "We're hanging on to these." She shook her wrist. "I could get used to this!" He smiled too. "How about you stay like that for a little? At least until I've relieved myself." James headed in expecting the door to shut and lock behind him and he wasn't disappointed. He saw the exit button above the door and checked he could reach it before turning to the bowl, lifting the seat (why do women always leave the seat down?) and letting flow. As he washed his hands he noted that Emily was right, there was nothing to move around the room to stand on, and the size of the luxurious wet-room meant that everything tall was fixed away from the door. After drying off he stepped over and reached up to press the button. Something unlatched, but it wasn't the door. Looking down he spotted a smaller door slightly ajar within the main door. It was small, something the size of a dogflap. There was no way he'd be able to get his shoulders through. "Honey? Can you see this door?" "Yes. I'm guessing the real one doesn't open?" "You got it. Any ideas? Last time I got through a hole like this I was about six!" "That's an idea!" "Whoah, honey!" James quirked, but it was too late as his eyeline dropped against the door and the world around him felt like it was getting larger. His jeans dropped to his ankles shortly followed by his boxer shorts, his t-shirt taking their place in covering them as it hung down off him like a dress. He felt too close to his feet before everything settled. "Honey, did you..." Then he stopped. He coughed. "Ahhhh." He gargled, but his voice was back to the pitch it was before it broke. He turned to the mirror, but was about chin height to the sink and the mirror started another six inches above that. His hands were small, and when he gripped his upper arm it was the gristle of a small boy. Figuring there was only one way forward he crouched down to the tiny door and proceeded to worm his way through. He stood up on the other side, gratefully still inside his t-shirt, and met his wife chortling above him as she looked down. She crouched right down, still slightly above his height. "You are so cute! Oh my God! You know we weren't planning on kids for a while, James? If this is what I've got to look forward to then we might have to replan." "We could do something about that now, if you like?" "Honey, we're going to die if we don't figure a way out of here. I swear to you that if we make it out I'll fuck your brains out and then some." James actually felt properly admonished by that statement. As he lowered his eyes he idly noticed the bracelet still fit his wrist, but then why wouldn't it. He noted that one smaller stone was red again, but paid it no further attention. "Darling, sit back on the bed?" They'd been searching the room for anything like the exit button in the toilet. When the timer had ticked down to two and a half hours to go the two televisions in the room had switched on by themselves and started playing porn. Emily couldn't switch either off, nor could she find a volume control, and it was either getting louder or they were both tuning into the rhythmical moaning. Emily was very happy with her height, so James left her tall. James wasn't happy with his age so Emily returned him to a pleasant twenty- six, but also made him a little taller than previously, so that he could look her in the eye again. Much as she loved her height, she wasn't that comfortable with being taller than her husband. She'd been sitting on the bed getting quietly frustrated, her eyes being drawn to the simple sex showing on the screen wondering if it was anything more than a distraction. She'd got up to tear herself away from it, but James had obviously spotted something so she sat back down. "Both sides of the door," he explained with some excitement, "when you sit on the bed two slight cracks appear, but when you get up they disappear." "Show me!" she said, getting up and walking over to him. He outlined the areas, and then went to sit on the bed as she watched. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "It's got to be something." She came and sat on the bed with him, and they could both see the cracks open slightly, but when one got up they narrowed, and when both got up they disappeared. "Check the bed! There might be some kind of catch that'll keep them open." They threw the covers up all around and inspected all around. "There is a mark," James finally noted. When Emily looked over at him he continued, "The bed is like a double divan, solid underneath, but usually they have wheels or coasters when this one is flush to the ground. If you check the floor where it joins it's actually not flush, it seems to be sunk into the floor, but like a giant pressure pad. Which means the bold line going all around might not be a part of the design, but like a tidemark showing the depth it needs to sink in for those holes in the wall to open fully. Sit on the bed again, honey?" Emily did. "Yes, the bed sinks slightly into the floor. I think if we get to that mark something will happen." He sat down too, and checked the mark. He looked across at his wife. "I think we might need to lie down for this one. We're going to need some serious weight. Think big bodybuilders. I'm not sure I'm going to enjoy this." With that he concentrated on a much more muscular version of his honey. Emily could feel her muscles growing. She didn't feel heavier, if anything she felt lighter. She checked her arms and couldn't see much difference, but there was some bulk there. It actually didn't look nice as she grew. She wanted svelte, not bulky, but the strength itself felt good. It just didn't look good. She concentrated on James bulking up. When that happened it happened much more prominently. James could almost feel himself lifting off the bed as his body grew hugely. Unfortunately for his t-shirt there was a Hulk moment where it split. Like Emily he couldn't actually feel the power or the weight, but the strength made moving feel so simple. Then it stopped as the weight kicked in as even though it felt simple to lift something, it was an effort to keep it lifted. He could lift his huge arms with ease, but he couldn't hold up their weight for very long, they were so big. And he felt stiff as he reached about as big as Emily seemed to be able to make him. He struck a few poses as he sat up on the edge of the bed to take a look at the line. The holes were much more visible, but the line wasn't that much nearer the floor. He could see one obvious issue. He'd got a lot bigger, but Emily hadn't really. There was only so much muscle a woman could put on, even a really tall one. He turned back to Emily with a look of disappointment on his face. "Actually, you look good even with muscle. Not as good, but still beautiful." Then he sighed. "But it's time for a change of tack and neither of us are going to like this. We need more weight, Sorry, honey, but you're going to have to get naked." A moment later he concentrated, and Emily felt herself grow, but outward. Suddenly she couldn't see her new muscle as it was coated in a layer of fat which kept expanding. She started to feel warm, and then sweaty. And heavy. Her breasts were inflating and they sat heavily on her chest as she lay back. Then they flopped to her sides, pulling on her sternum, and she noted her belly rounding and widening. And her thighs! Everything felt hot between them, and sticky as they grew and grew and the flesh began to fold up and crease. Her strength hadn't gone, but everything began to feel like an effort. She felt hungry, really starving hungry, and thoughts of food started to muddle her brain. "I feel like a whale," she stated as she tried to sit up, but the effort was tiring and left her breathing harder. "This is disgusting!" She concentrated on James putting on weight when he indicated that the line was really closing in on the floor. He began to feel the flab increase around his belly first, as it rose up making him look pregnant before it began to fold over the tops of his thighs. His face felt heavy and sweaty under his chin as the fat folded up and though he could still move he began to feel lethargic. "This is horrible. Don't let me ever get fat, please, honey." She looked over at him. "No way. I am not living with that! No cake in our house ever!" she agreed. As their bodies swelled and they sank into the mattress James gave up trying to look over at the line. Their bodies began to press against each other, but it felt like cool, pasty skin connecting. James' arm squidged against Emily's flopping, bulging breast, and his stomach began to spread onto her thighs. They lay back not even finding the effort to speak, just breathe. "Clunk!" came a noise from underneath them, loud, though they barely felt a thing. "Stop!" gasped James. "Hope. It's. Locked. Think. Thin." Emily squealed in delighted gratitude as the fat shrank and she could feel her body returning to her. She concentrated on James' form returning though she liked the look of a little extra muscle and left him with a few extra kilos of it in desirable places. The moment they could they rolled towards each other and smiled, and then kissed, before Emily broke it off to look up at the door. The holes were clearly open. "Yes!" she gasped, and ran over to them naked, any remains of clothing forgotten on the bed. "It looks like there are buttons in the holes, but I can't get my fingers in deep enough. Anything we might press them with?" They searched the room looking for pens or anything they could use to prod the buttons. Emily took out one of her shoes and broke off a heel but it wouldn't reach in far enough. Neither of them noted any object that would reach in deep enough and the holes were only about an inch and a bit across. They tried rolling up clothes, but inside it seemed there was a cavity that stuff fell into. It was James who finally noted it as he watched his naked wife bending over once more to see inside. "It's the height," he said. Emily turned back to him. "What about the height?" "We need something long, slim, solid," he murmured as he walked straight towards the wall. It dawned on Emily as he kept walking straight at it, his erection pointing straight in. And then he pushed it straight into the hole. It fit perfectly. At six to seven inches he was very pleasantly endowed, just filling her inside and only getting too deep if he got too excited. "Can you make me a bit bigger?" he asked her awkwardly. "Oh," she replied. But maybe the television screen content had undone any reservations she might have had as she concentrated on imagining her husband having a longer penis. "There!" he grunted as he felt his tip press the button as far as it could go. "One done!" He pulled out, giving Emily an eyeful of his new glory. She found it striking, but somewhat scary, thinking about what that length might do inside her. Just the fact that she was thinking about what it might do made her somewhat horny though. It was like when she'd turned her husband into a bodybuilder. Gross, but it might be nice to try that strength out just once. James moved over to the other side of the door and pressed his tip into the other hole. Again he pressed the button, but to their disappointment nothing happened. "Are you in?" Emily asked. "Really?" James snorted. "Probably not the right thing to say to a guy," she snickered. Then she sighed. "Shit. Two buttons, you press them both, and nothing happens." "No," James mused. "That's it, we didn't press them both." "You did!" "Think films, honey! Two keys to set off all the nuclear missiles. They have to be turned simultaneously." "But you've only got one willy, and I don't think growing two that far apart would fall inside regular human bounds." "We have two people." Emily wasn't slow, she just realised that she was resisting the idea. "I can't do that." James stepped away and looked at the clock. "It's still ticking," he informed her, not happy to note that almost an hour had passed since they'd last checked. "Okay, okay. Do it." James thought about his wife having a cock, but nothing seemed to happen. "I don't think a woman having a penis falls inside the rules either." "Then go all the way," she said, gritting her teeth. James thought of his best friend and best man, Charlie, a guy he knew completely, though Charlie wasn't as well endowed as he was going to have to imagine. He watched his wife as she slowly disappeared, getting a little shorter, slowly stockier, her breasts receding into a well-formed chest and her waist thickening and hardening. Her shoulders broadened and her face became more square, her hair seeming to get pulled back into her head and darkening slightly. It was her legs that were the worst though, becoming even shorter and a lot stockier, the thighs showing solid muscle and then the penis pushing out from between them like plastic being squeezed out of a machine. Even a full scrotum appeared underneath it. Emily looked up at him. "Please don't look at me like that, hon," she pleaded in a voice that was the spit of Charlie's. Somehow though it held Emily's tone, and even in the way she was sitting on the bed made him realise it was still Emily there, not Charlie somehow transported. "Shall we do this quickly?" She got up. "Oh my God, I can't walk straight." James watched as she tried to wiggle, but her feet went forward in straight lines. "This is insane. I don't like it." "It will only be for a second. Think dirty thoughts," he told her as he observed her hanging straight down. "What happens then?" she said. Then moments later, "Oh!" She looked down at the rising cock between her legs. "That feels heavy and, er, good." She reached her right hand around the erection. "Oo, wow," she said, gripping it and moving her hand slightly, "there's no warm up, is there? It's straight to 'Go'!" "Stop that!" James told her off. "Go too far and we might be waiting a while before you can get it up again." "Sorry," she said, letting go. Then she bit her lip in a perfectly Emily pose. "It really is demanding, isn't it?" "Maybe you can have a minute afterwards," grunted James, as he pressed himself into the wall. "I might," she agreed, as she did the same. There was a click and the door was suddenly ajar. James was the more agile in his regular body and grabbed for the handle pulling it wide open to reveal the main living space. He waved his male wife through and saw the image of his best man take a skip before mincing into the main room. He followed immediately, pulling the door to but not quite closing it, just in case. Emily noticed. "If you close it it might stop the gas." "No help," he stated, pointing to the corner of the room where another bomb-like contraption sat, the clock above showing they had just under an hour and a half to exit the building. The living area was luxuriously furnished, but nothing was loose or useful. Floor to ceiling windows looking out on the empty beach were sealed. The main door was locked, of course, and bodybuilder strength did nothing to move it. The two televisions in the room continued to show the same porn. Emily ignored it, but James kept sneaking peeks. As he watched for a moment, two busty blondes were side by side riding wall-mounted dildos. Emily focussed on the computer on the large desk, searching for a way to switch it on, but there was nothing obvious and all wiring disappeared into the unmoveable surfaces. It was nagging at her that it was the only item in the room which might be able to tell them what to do next, with no other writing appearing anywhere. Her naked husband flopped down onto one of the sofas. They'd been under, into and through anything they could reach. Only one item seemed odd, another waist height hole next to the door, except this one was just a hole clean through the wall. They'd tried shouting through it, but no-one had appeared. Time continued to run down. James figured that at the very least, if they ran out of time, he would get Emily to breathe through the hole. Maybe that was the last challenge, that one of them would have to be chosen to survive. Wasn't that the way the films always worked, he thought to himself. He'd been successful with women, but in his third year when Emily arrived as a fresher he'd immediately known she was the one and done all he could to get her attention. When he finished his course he'd taken a job near the university so that they could stay together, and soon they were living together. As soon as Emily finished and got her first job they'd moved together to the city where he'd accepted a trader position. Soon they were comfortable, and then a couple more years and they were well off and enjoying it. Marriage wasn't a next step, it was a desire they both had, to commit to each other and enjoy life together. He firmly believed that nothing could tear them apart. Sitting on that sofa though he was looking at an immediate future where something could tear them apart, but he realised that he could die for her. It wouldn't come to that. This was all a joke, he figured, though how the hell something could be so magical as to transform them both at each others thoughts, and yet still be a joke? He hadn't even paused to think about the amazing absurdity of their situation, yet it was, wasn't it? Did they only have an hour left to appreciate it? There was a click of a door closing behind him. "Yes!" Emily cried out, still in Charlie's voice. He looked around. She'd closed the bedroom door, and the computer monitor switched on. "How did you figure that?" "Educated guess." She shrugged as she sat down at the desk. She looked at the screen in front of her. It was some kind of quiz, like the surveys that often appeared online. "As I'm here, I better run through these questions. You wanna come help?" "You want me to change you back?" "I'm getting used to this thing lying on my legs," she smiled, "and it's easier to see the keyboard without my boobs." With that she read out the first question. "What type of books do you like to read?" "Go for Sci-Fi." "But I like Romance and detective stuff. There's romance here so I'll put that. And... What do you think your boss values in you?" "Leadership." "Teamwork!" "Okay, you answer these your way. I'll go see if there's anything else happening since you shut the door." James had noticed Emily's bracelet as she typed. The two smaller stones were red but the larger central stone was still green. He checked his own and it was the same. They'd started with three green. In the bedroom he'd noted one red, after they'd both got out of the bathroom. Now out of the bedroom two were red. He guessed that when they went through the front door the final crystal would turn red and they'd lose the crazy power they had. He was almost saddened by that. He would have to ask Emily if she minded having bigger boobs before they escaped. It would save on cosmetic fees. He sat back down and waited. Rather than watching the ominous clock he turned his eyes to the porn, where he could watch his fill of huge breasts. "Done!" she said. "What's 'your position waits (sic)' supposed to mean?" James looked around and then around the room. Extruding out of the main wall, door side and below the large TV, was what looked suspiciously like a dildo, angling upwards. Below it the wall appeared to curve inwards, looking like two inverted legs. "Er, could that be a position?" "You're kidding." Then the wall above the dildo also reshaped slightly, two further indentations looking remarkably breast shaped. "I don't think the room is kidding. I think a woman is supposed to sit on that. It was on the porn earlier." "I'm glad you learned something from it, honey. This screen ain't changing, so I guess you could be right." She sighed. "I never got the chance to play with my new toy." James smiled wryly at her. "It's not something I would have wanted to watch." He concentrated on returning Emily to her original form, glad to see his beautiful wife once more. She walked slowly over to the position and looked it up and down. "Could you look away perhaps?" James walked over to the computer, his back to the scene, as Emily figured out where to stand and slowly lowered her nubile form onto the warm plastic. "Anything?" she asked across, a slightly uncomfortable tone in her voice. "Still just saying the same. Why (sic) at the end?" "Thus it was written. Like, that's the way it was copied across even if the original was wrong." "Honey, I know what it means. Why is it at the end here?" Emily slid herself awkwardly back off the protuberance and walked carefully back over to her husband. "Hmm, why is it flashing now?" "I guess it started the moment you starting coming over here. Something really wants you up against that wall!" "Okay, but anyway, (sic) is usually placed after the incorrectness, so either that whole phrase is wrong, or the last word is." "Weights?" Mused James. "That's what it says." "No." He spelled it out. "Maybe it was supposed to be weights. Your position. Weights." "I was pretty much sitting on that thing, knees in place. I really don't fancy being fat again! Alright, come over and watch me, and see if you see anything which gives us a clue?" "We're just below half an hour, Em. This better be quick!" "You just race through whatever appears on that screen when we're done." It didn't take but a few seconds for James to spot that when Emily's breasts rested against the insides of the indentations for them that two cracks formed in the wall at perfect positions for her to insert her hands. Because Emily's face was so close to the wall she couldn't see them, so he described what was happening. "My boobs," she said. "Weights. You'll have to make them heavier." She turned and smiled at him. "I'm sure you won't have any problem with that." He concentrated, and when Emily's breasts began to fill the indentations, which were pretty sizeable, the holes were large enough for her to get her hands into. "There are two handles," she reported, gripping them. "Oo!" "What's happened?" he asked, worried. "Oh, the er, cock thing, is um, moving. Oh!" "The screen!" he shouted. "It's changed!" "Go! And, mmph, be quick, please?" James sat at the screen. "It's the same question. Books. I'm going Sci-Fi." He kept an eye on the timer. Just under forty minutes. Emily had taken nearly twenty minutes to run the test. He wasn't going to tell her they didn't have that long to spare. He rushed through the questions, not thinking once he'd picked a reasonable choice. Clothes, worn to suit the function. Cars, the faster the better. Sports, skilful athletes in engrossing competition, definitely not an excuse to ogle fit bodies, although the answer appealed. Most attractive part of a male, biceps. Most attractive part of a female, breasts. Feelings brought on by a baby's smile, don't throw up on me. Just over ten minutes and the screen finally changed, to 'your position waits (sic)'. He turned around and saw Emily staring blankly at the wall, whimpering slightly, the erotic state of her face making him suddenly horny. He also caught the wall closer to him moving, and his horniness dissipated as a second cock appeared. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?" Emily looked up, focussing. She let go of the handles but the moment she did the cock started to disappear. "Oh!" she squealed, and grabbed them again. She grunted. "That space looks like mine." She grimaced slightly, concentrating. "So you aren't supposed to slide it into your backside, and the angle looks impossible anyway. Mmph! Damn this fucking cock!" James didn't think she sounded that pissed off at it as he watched her take a sharp intake of breath and roll her eyes slightly. "So I have get on it like you are? Female?" "Yes. Just like me!" She tried to hold her thoughts together and concentrate, managing to hold the thought of James becoming female like her. James felt the shrinking first, mostly in the top of his body which seemed to both shrink downwards and expand outwards. His hips inflated and seemed to turn in very slightly as his butt pushed out. His hair fell onto and over his shoulders, a rich chestnut brown, and his face seemed to tighten up, especially his lips which seemed to him to move into a pout. Muscle melted and became soft and smooth, and his expanded chest tugged downwards. The void between his legs wasn't visible, but he could feel it, and moved his hand to grab for himself, missing. "Oh, fuck," he wondered out loud, "this feels so weird!" "Honey!" demanded his wife. "Your position." He approached the cock, and grabbed it with his hand. All he had to do was guide it in. He stood on his tiptoes and positioned the head at the new crack between his legs. Nothing was supposed to fit in there, in that space. He lowered himself down slightly, feeling flesh part. What was going to happen when it went inside? Inside him? He lowered slightly again, still gripping onto it for his life. "No!" He suddenly shouted. "It's wrong. I can't!" He jumped back. "James! Calm down. You've got to get on that cock!" "I can't do it." James felt tears welling up. Why the fuck was he crying? He didn't cry. "I don't want it inside me." "Damn, James, get over it!" He tried again, gripping and positioning himself, but the moment it started to open him up he started to whimper. "Honey, okay, stay there. Don't move." "I'm not going to." Emily took a breath and concentrated. James figured she was doing something to him, but he had no idea what. "Now, honey," his wife said slowly, "I want you to just sink down very slightly." "I can't." He felt the panic well up. "Breathe, James. Now just the tiniest bit, let yourself down off your toes." He grunted, gritted his teeth, felt the fear and slid very slightly. It felt good, like really good, the mild euphoria easing his fear if not dispelling it. "What?" he exclaimed in surprise. "It's..." He felt his left toe give way slightly from cramping up. The motion caused him to drop again before he caught it. "Oo!" came the feeling again, this time stronger, making him more curious. The cock didn't hurt, it was really slick inside him, not catching at all. He stood up on full tiptoes again just to position himself right and the cock slipping out felt momentarily great before the feeling was completely gone, and he felt empty in a way he really didn't want to. Without thought he slid it back in, further, deeper, and the feeling came back, harder, totally blowing away any reservations and fears. It felt so good, and he slipped down over it until it filled him, his knees were against the pads in the wall and his pert breasts were resting in their cups. "What did you do to me?" "Some girls are, oh, really sensitive down there. Not many. It was, um, all I could think of that might, uh, help." "It's... wonderful." He sighed. "I think you need to grow me some tits now." "Not my area of expertise." She smiled languidly. "Just think of the woman in the movie." James' breasts didn't just grow, they exploded outwards. He gasped at the sudden pressure as their mass filled the cups completely, and then pressed him slightly away from the wall. The motion caused him to jerk slightly on the dildo, and he moaned involuntarily as the reverberations passed through him. Gathering his focus he managed to find the two hand holes and push his arms in until he felt some moulds that wrapped his fingers around two handles. Three things happened at once. The first was his arms were gripped firmly at the wall holes, not uncomfortably but his hands were stuck. The second was that the dildo inside him started to vibrate and move, pulsing gently up and down inside him. He didn't hear the third, as the shock of the first was drowned out by the pleasure of the second and he focussed completely on the feelings coming from his new vagina. Emily heard the click though, and clambered away from her device to see the front door slightly ajar. "James! The door's open!" she cried out. "I'm, uhn, stuck!" he managed to answer. As he grew slightly used to the intense pleasure he was able to separate off a tiny part of his brain to think critically. First thinking that it might be a wonderful way to die he then managed to focus on the 'die' part of that thought and realised he wanted to escape too. "There must be another button somewhere. Ooo, er, try by that hole thing, whatever." Emily crossed to the hole by the door, having to hang onto her huge tits to stop them from dragging her around the room. She glanced at the timer, and with James stuck she realised this was all down to her now. She could get out, but she'd rather close the door again and stay inside than leave him stuck there. She ran her hands all over the wall around the hole, looked through it to the outside world, felt around inside it. She looked back at her section of wall, but it was just wall again, looked at the TV to see a woman inside a box giving blow jobs to men through glory holes. She ran back to the computer, but it was blank. There was nothing, they'd searched the room, twice, three times. The timer ticked under ten minutes. She briefly glanced at James, who looked like her own twin, except for the breasts. Though she looked down and amended that. She could see his arms were clamped with no way to lever them or anything. She wanted to turn him back and get his help because she knew she wasn't thinking straight, but she couldn't do anything until she freed him. Then it suddenly came to her, that she hadn't checked the outside of the hole. She pulled the door open and peeked outside. There, out of reach but right above the hole, was a large, obvious button. She ran out into the open air, reached for the button and smacked it hard into the wall. With a snick the door to the cabina closed behind her. Jumping back over to it she wrestled with the handle but to no avail. "James!" she yelled out. "James!" Inside James might have felt the pressure around his arms drop away, but he didn't really register it. He did, however, register Emily yelling his name. At that he let go of the handles, and the slow dissipation of pleasure made him feel sad and a little irritable. "Yes?" he called back over his shoulder, at the same time as discovering that he could move himself slightly up and down on the fixed penis and it made the pleasure return. "The door's locked!" "You're outside!" Shrieked James, very girlishly. "There was a button outside, but it locked the door. Did it let you go?" Suddenly very embarrassed, James clambered off the pleasure device, his massive tits bouncing uncomfortably. "Yes!" he croaked. The reality of his situation caught up with him. The red lights told him he had seven minutes left to find a way out. "The hole, it's the same size as the others," Emily called through it. "I'm going to turn you back into James again." He stood and waited. Something nagged at him. "When?" he asked her. "Aren't you 'you' again?" "Bracelet. What colour are your stones?" She called back a moment later. "They're all red." He checked his. "It's the doors! When you get through one it switches off a crystal. You can't transform me anymore." "Shit! Useless, disgusting, horrible piece of shit!" "No, Emily!" James shouted, guessing what she was about to do. "Don't take it off! I can still transform you!" "How will that help?" James looked at the new item fixed to a rod that had pushed out a few inches to the side of the hole. It was a tiny bottle with a short straw in the neck. A label on it read 'come (sic) fill me'. He knew immediately what it meant. "I need cum and I can't make any. I'm going to need you to." His statement was met with silence. "I need a cock inside, and the only way is through that hole." "Okay. I guess I get to try it out properly." The thought of a cock appearing through the wall disrupted James' concentration as he prepared to transform his wife. He wanted it, and it made him think momentarily of what he'd been transformed into. He thought of himself, James, as he used to be just minutes before, what he wanted to be transformed back into. A cock actually appearing through the hole broke his concentration again. The realisation that it was too high up the wall for him to climb onto was a frustration, he kind of wanted it, but he needed to somehow get it to cum into the straw. "What now?" came a masculine voice through the wall. "I get you to come, or you do it, and I have to get the cum into a little bottle through a straw." "I assume the end of this thing isn't pointing at the bottle. You don't want to spill any, and it'll be hard to tip it down a straw from your hands." "That's about the sum of it." "And the bottle is bound to be stuck." "Way ahead of you there." "Your mouth." James took a mental step back. "Sorry, what?" "You catch the cum in your mouth and you spit it through the straw." He thought. "Okay, that makes logical sense. Have you got any pointers?" He couldn't see Emily smile, but just for a second she did. "Don't swallow." Emily could only feel the end of a tense, pulsing piece of flesh attached to her crotch, as something warm and strong, possibly fingers, wrapped around it and tried to find the best place to take a grip. Even in her very limited experience she could tell that the message being sent by her new genitalia to her brain was 'get a move on, honey'; it was almost frustrating not being pleasured when it was this close. Sexual frustration, impatience, demand, she might have laughed at how manly she was feeling. But then she realised that the gonads were right, James did have to get a move on. "James? How long do we have?" "Plenty of time, darling!" he replied, trying to hide the fear in his voice as the clock slipped below five minutes. A mouthful of cum, that was all. Just making a cock cum in his mouth, holding it there, and then spitting it out. No problem. He knelt closer to the head as he gripped it. Not much was showing through the wall, so it was difficult to fit his hand around, which he figured would be the quickest was to get it to cum. Should he make it longer? He'd heard sometimes longer wasn't so sensitive, but would that matter? He concentrated on making it stick through the wall enough to get his hand around. It was hard top and sides with a squidgier underside, just like his, and a fleshy but firm helmet that the skin slid back from. Not too far, he remembered, didn't want to hurt anything or she'd pull away and the chance might be gone. But he started to slide that skin, his hand moving back and forth, feeling the curious quality of another man's penis pulsing in his grip. How soon might she cum? He couldn't be sure, and he didn't want it over his face. That meant one thing, he had to put his lips around it, around a cock. Otherwise he was going to die. And he had to get faster, because she had to cum, soon. He had no idea what Emily would think as he put his lips around the tip and sucked to hold on, his finger and thumb beating quickly against his lips. Lucky they felt really soft and squidgy, giving springy support to his movements. How long? He didn't know, couldn't stop to look around no matter how much he wanted to. He felt the cock begin to move slightly, jerking away from him and back so he held on, protesting as loudly as he could without risking moving his lips away. How long was this going to take! Emily, please, just cum! Then she really jerked, into him, and something hit the back of his throat. He went to cough, reflexively, but managed to stop himself as another rope pumped in and he desperately clamped his lips around her head. A third pump dropped a string onto his tongue and he could feel the tears welling as he tried to hold his position. He couldn't choke or move as he felt the sticky slime coat the inside of his mouth and threaten to trickle down his throat. He squeezed a last drip towards him and turned to the straw, a strand stretching from the side of his mouth back to the firm cock. With desperate control he clamped his lips onto the straw and manipulated the goo with his tongue as he spat. It was salty, chewy, and definitely something he didn't particularly find pleasant to have in his mouth. He coughed at last as he forced it down the straw and turned his eyes to the clock. With a minute left to ten o'clock he breathed a slight sigh of relief and looked at the door only to find it still shut. The goo was stuck in the straw! "Emily! It's not going down!" he cried out. "Blow, James! How long left?" He didn't take the time to answer. She didn't need to know. He clamped his lips over the straw again and forced air down it but it felt like there was a finger over the end of it. He looked again. "It's barely moving!" "Keep going, James! Squeeze the straw!" Thirty seconds. He grabbed the straw between thumb and fingers and tried to yank the blob down. He blew into it again, forcing his cheeks to ache as he felt it move slowly. He could see the cum reaching the bottom of the straw. Fourteen seconds. No time to think he just clamped his own lips over the straw with his left hand as he pulled down on it with his right and he kept blowing as hard as he could. Suddenly the blockage gave way and the cum must have hit something in the bottom of the bottle. The door clicked open and he leapt up for it, yanking it open and himself out of the room, feeling himself almost unbalancing as his massive tits tried to keep up. He slammed the door shut behind him and fell to his knees facing it, not caring how harsh the welcome mat felt under them. He felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder and another hold him tight as he fell into a hug. He leaned into the warm, firm chest, not realising until that moment that he was sobbing, shaking, and the tears were falling. He looked up at Emily, only to realise through his misty eyes that he was looking up into a mirror. "You're... you're my twin!" he managed to break through the sobs. "You're mine." She smiled, and pulled him close, squeezing his face into her chest and his breasts into her stomach. They knelt together on the porch for a few moments longer, just holding each other. Finally James leaned back from Emily's strong hold, his tears abating, and looked up at the new 'him'. "What now?" Emily looked around. The hole in the wall was gone, probably sealed when the door closed. "Our clothes are in there, and we don't have the key." She took James' wrist. "Your bracelet is all red too." She shrugged. "I guess we have to talk to someone about what the hell just happened." She stared into space for a moment. "I feel a bit lost," she murmured. James saw Emily's emotions on his own face, realising it was completely her in there, and he sank back in to hold her tight. "Don't worry, honey, somebody can help us." Emily felt a tear drip down her own face, and sniffed. She didn't want to tell her husband how wrong she felt wearing his body, how jealous she was that he had hers even though it was grossly defiled in her eyes, her trim curves ruined. She wanted to feel his strength against her, not his softness. There had better be someone who knew what the hell was going on! "We'd better walk. How are you feeling?" James took a moment to think about that. The harsh mat was sticking into his knees so he stood gently. His tits pulled forwards and down, heavy, his skin tight from his shoulders and his back straightened to hold them up. As he held them more comfortably in his small hands he felt the absence between his legs, and inside, where that void had been stuffed, shafted and stimulated. He sighed uncomfortably. "Sore..."