Bleu Goes Black: A TT Virus Story free porn video

TTV - Bleu Goes Black: A TT Virus Story Chapter 1 "Special Delivery" My wife and I, Samuel and Charlene Danube, were best known for owning the Bleu Danube chain of high end restaurants. I'm sure you've been in one of them for an anniversary or a special birthday, maybe a celebration for a promotion. It doesn't really matter, but I hope you have. We're very proud of them and the work we put into them and we worked for years building up the business. Every aspect was based on our own work, from the decor, to the logo, to...well everything. We're especially proud that every recipe we serve was one that we created, tested, and perfected. We were even the people that scale them up for restaurant production. You should see the "kitchen" at our house. We could literally cook for 150 people and still have an oven and a few burners open. Our "fridge" is equally impressive and for good reason. You see, when we're testing recipes, we cook about 8-10 versions at once so we can compare them side by side. For instance, we sometimes have to go through a hundred pounds of beef or more to get things juuuuuuuuuust right and we don't mind spending the money on the supplies to do it. And from a money standpoint...we're doing just fine anyway. Sole owners of a company worth several billion dollars...so yeah, we're doing ok. Char and I met late in college where I was a business major. She was supposedly studying finance, but mostly she was running track, distance to be specific. Given our majors, it was sort of amazing that we ended up in the restaurant business at all. Owning a restaurant empire wasn't part of either of our plans, but a lot of things changed once we met. We were both self-taught gourmets with no formal training and had our own specific styles, but they blended together like it was by design, just like we did. We were both very independent and had strong personality traits, and still we meshed like two halves of a single whole. We only noticed once we got together how each of us completed the other in every way possible, large and small. We got engaged three months after we started dating and married two weeks after that. We've never looked back and it was the best thing that happened to either one of us. The only regret we had was that Char and I never had any children. We were too busy building up the business when we were first out of school to try. It was a real struggle back then and even if we HAD been trying, we had leveraged ourselves so much I doubt we could have afforded a single pack of diapers. Once we got to where we had both the time and the money, it was too late. We didn't know it when we met, but Char's clock was set super fast. She hit menopause about 35, and she's been without her "Aunt Flo" for about 10 years now. I know it sounds stupid, but after we found out we couldn't have any, the business became our kids. We put everything we had into our efforts to grow the business and it doubled in size and then again and again and again, etc., etc. We were up to 104 locations. Pretty much everywhere the size of Akron or larger had at least one, including Akron. We didn't run the day to day stuff, we have CFO's and regional managers to do those things and it isn't unusual for us to spend weeks at a time working on this dish or that. The corporate headquarters was used to our come and go habits and we had a complete telecommuting facility set-up to stay connected when were not in the offices. We even had a specially made delivery space that connects to the back of the kitchen "fridge" so we can get deliveries any time and not have to be here to accept them. Yeah yeah, the delivery company could take some of the other food in there, but they really liked their contract, and it was well known the entire fridge had a full surveillance system rigged out with cameras, etc., just like the rest of the house. Bottom line is that we could literally drop off the face of the earth and it would be almost a month before anyone thought it was odd. Being "celebrities" in our own right (at least as much as Emeril or Wolfgang), we got sent products for free all the time, just to try and get our endorsement. So it was no surprise that a couple of days after we started working on a new Saltimbocca recipe we noticed a box that had been set to the side when we started sorting the last delivery. Funny thing though, it was in one of the few blind spots of the camera system, so we couldn't tell when it had been delivered. We figured somewhere along the way one of the drivers had been slipped a few bills to drop it off with one of the regular deliveries. It wasn't very big, about the size of box an iPad or other tablet would come it. I thought that's exactly what it was in it and snatched it up...finders keepers! I felt very disappointed when I opened it and only found some packing peanuts and two tiny tubes of a new self tanning product. They were about half the size of travel toothpaste, barely enough to cover your face or so. There was also a sheet of paper with the name of the company (Transformational Tanning) saying this was a "revolutionary" new product, with one product line specifically designed for men and another for women. It also had the standard boiler plate info about how to apply it (rub it in...shocking, right?), each application will enhance the previous effect, for external use only...bla bla bla. I showed everything to Char and she wanted NOTHING to do with it. She could only think about the horrible self tanning lotions already out there and had absolutely no interest in having a Cheeto(Tm) colored face...or anything else for that matter. I put the box towards the back of the counter while we finished organizing, planning on throwing it out later, and promptly forgot about it. We worked in the kitchen pretty late prepping for another long day of cooking tomorrow. I think we got in bed about 2 am. I had always been a true early bird. It didn't matter how late I go to bed, 6 am comes around and my eyes snap open. Then it's get up and get moving or stare at the same spot on the ceiling until I get up and get moving anyway once my wife wakes up two hours later. So...I got up. I started a pot of coffee and it just happens that I tossed the box with the tanning lotion right next to the coffee maker. Having only a few hours sleep, I may have been a tad loopy before having my coffee. Being a guy, I permanently have the maturity of a 12 year old. Also being a guy, I was always thinking about doing something with my dick. Combine the last three things it was inevitable that the next thing I was doing was wearing a rubber glove and applying the lotion marked "for him" onto my cock. I thought the worst that could happen is that I'd have an orange dick for the next month and in my sleep deprived state, even that was a win. I knew that every time I went to pee for the next month, I'd be giggling about my day-glo orange member being the punchline to a joke I learned in middle school (you know the one, about watching porno and eating cheetos). The lotion dried almost immediately but it didn't turn orange. Over the next few seconds, I felt a warming sensation and my dick turned a very nice light brown, almost dusky color, like it had been born some other ethnicity than the rest of me. Given how white the rest of me was, it was pretty easy to see the change. This stuff didn't appear to be bad at all...so I put on another coat. A couple minutes later, my little buddy looked positively Spanish. Another coat, another step darker. By the time the tube ran out several coats and some time later, my dick was a dark chocolate color and rock hard from all the rubbing. I thought it might have been the darker color, but my member even looked an inch or so bigger. About this time I heard my wife shuffling down the hall and was surprised to see how much time had passed. I quickly closed my robe and tried to look innocent. If you've ever TRIED to look innocent, you'll know how badly I failed at doing so. My wife looks at me, stops for a moment, then continues to get her coffee. She leans against the wall and takes a few sips while watching me intently. After a bit she says, "OK, spill it. I know that look. What have you been up to?" I just smiled and let my robe slip open and with very little encouragement, my newly darkened cock pops up as the robe slides to each side of the chair. "Wha...when...how..." Then glancing to the side she saw the empty tube and shook her head. "Why???" I put my index finger to the middle of my chin and blinked quickly with a vapid smile on my face, "I was bored?" and shrugged my shoulders. After I got "The Look" I lost the innocent look and fessed up that I thought it would be funny and even if it stayed orange only she and I would ever see it until it wore off. Then I got up and whispered in her ear, "But as it turns out...it isn't orange...and I know we never acted on my fantasy of seeing you with a black man, but with this..." and I put her hand on my hard cock, "maybe we can live that out in a way that nobody else has to be involved." My wife doesn't move for a moment and I can tell that this idea is sinking in. Then her hand slowly starts stroking me and we kiss, hard. I move to cup her breasts and she pushes me back hard enough that I basically fall into the chair I had been sitting in. I start to get up and she puts her hand on my chest and holds me in place. I look at her questioningly. "You have your fantasy...I have mine. I've always wanted to seduce a black man. Specifically, *A* black man. I had a track teammate that lived in my dorm during his senior year when I was a freshman. He was a sprinter and I was distance so we never trained together. I never even had the nerve to talk to him, but GOD, he had an amazing body, huge quads, washboard abs, with a nice tight ass. I know he was hung like a horse. His dick...his cock, it was too big to just be called a dick, it was so big and thick you could even see the shape of the head through his pants. You could see it in every pair of pants he wore, especially his running shorts. Thinking about fucking him turned me on so much almost every time I ran into him in the dorm I'd go back to my room and get myself off. I wanted to crawl up to him while he sat on the couch in the lounge, pull his pants down to his ankles and suck his big black cock. After swallowing his load, I would climb up his body and sit in his lap and fuck him until I couldn't cum any more." As she was telling me this she had taken a few steps back and dropped her robe off her shoulders so it pooled around her feet. Then she got down on all fours and started crawling to me. About the time she whispered "cum" she was breathing on the head of my cock and I started to move my hips to get my cock in her mouth. She pinched my inner thigh and I yelped in surprise. "I told you...I wanted to fuck HIM, not have him fuck me. Since you're going to be my track star with his big black cock, you have to play his part and not move." She squeezed my shaft and said" I'm going to do all the work, you just have to sit back and enjoy." And with that she sucked my head into her mouth and I was completely on-board. She looked up at me in surprise and exclaimed "CHOCOLATE! Your cock tastes just like chocolate!" Chapter 2 "Death by Chocolate" Immediately Char started moaning, but not just from pleasure. I've heard that particular moan enough times in our kitchen to know that meant she was tasting something truly delicious. She dove back down and started licking my cock everywhere her tongue could reach. "Oh my GOD, this is the best tasting chocolate I have ever tasted! I can't get enough!" I began to mumble something about the lotion having some coco powder in it when my wife dove forward and took my entire length down her throat. I couldn't speak coherently after that. Partially because of how mind blowing that felt, but mostly because I was in shock. Char had never done that to me before. She's tried, but we could never get past her gag reflex. Now she was bobbing up and down on my cock like she didn't have a reflex at all. She pulled all the way out to the tip and then without slowing down slid my shaft deep inside until she was pressing her nose against my crotch. As God is my witness, she was licking my balls every time she bottomed out, pushing one to each side as her tongue pressed into my sack. It was incredible. All the while Char was moaning like I was rubbing her clit while she ate her favorite cheesecake of all time. Add to that how unbelievably sexy it looked to see my wife deep throating a dark chocolate cock, fulfilling my most forbidden fantasy (even if, or maybe especially because, that cock happened to be mine) and I'd be happy to say I lasted through an entire minute of her ministrations before giving into the pleasure. As I said, I'd be happy to say that, I just can't. Not while telling the truth anyway. If an entire 15 seconds passed before I was shooting my load into the amazing mouth of my even more amazing wife I would be shocked. OK, that's not quite accurate either, it wasn't her mouth exactly. As soon as she could tell I was about to cum she took me as deep as I could possibly go and I think she started swallowing with my cock down her throat. What I know is that somehow she was massaging the length of my cock with her throat the entire time I was cumming. She never came up for air until I was done and then she slid my member out of her throat as slowly as she could, inch by inch until just my head was resting on her lips. She looked me straight in the eye and almost leaped up to jam her tongue in my mouth. I only had an instant to think before it happened and her tongue was already swirling around the inside of my mouth when I realized I was tasting the remnants of my own cum. She never took her tongue out of my mouth the entire time she climbed up and straddled me, not even when she guided my still rock hard cock into her pussy. She DID take it out the moment I entered her though. Her eyes also rolled back in her head and she began to quiver all over as she sank all the way down. I have never seen her this turned on. It was almost scary, hell it would have been if I had seen her this way with another person instead of me. She was literally dripping wet. When I felt how wet she was as I entered her, I looked at the spot where she was kneeling to suck me off and there was an actual pool of my wife's pussy juice on the tile. I didn't have much time to look because right then she grabbed my head and shoved my face into her left tit and held it there. I got the idea. I started sucking her left nipple as she started squeezing her right. She was pinching herself harder and harder as she rode me. When I wasn't keeping up the same pace with my sucking, she started using one hand to pinch my nipple. It didn't take long to learn that only sucking her nipple wasn't cutting it and when I didn't bite it hard enough she would squeeze mine until I did. I swear, by the end, I actually expected to see some blood she had me biting her so hard. The harder she squeezed, the harder I bit, and the harder I bit, the faster she rode. She had one orgasm after another and each bigger than the last. She was definitely building to a crescendo, and it was going to be a big one. I lost count of how many times she came during the build-up, but she was squirting all over us and I was almost about to slide right off the chair when it hit her, and oh my God did it hit. She arched her back until I thought she would break and stopped moving, everywhere that is but her pussy. That was squeezing me so hard I thought I was going to pop out of her. She started convulsing and lost all motor control and I had to catch her to keep her from falling over backwards. She kept cumming for a full 3 minutes. I know she did...I checked the clock when it didn't stop. There was one last huge contraction of her pussy where she really did squeeze me out and then she passed out...like completely out. I couldn't wake her up and after several tries I really started to worry. I carried her to our bedroom and laid her on our bed. What I thought had been the most epic orgasm of all time was looking more and more like a stoke or a seizure. I ran to my side of the bed to get my phone and as I picked it up, she started to come around. A look of pure bliss spread across the face of my soulmate, the relief pouring over me like a waterfall. "Char? You back with us? Are you OK?" She just looked at me and moaned happily for more than a few seconds before she actually spoke. She stretched and sighed, "Never better." A few seconds later she sat up quickly with a surprised look on her face, "Wait. What happened? The last thing I remember was riding your cock," glancing down then back to my face her eyes said 'yup, it really is a black cock', she finished, "Then I came REALLY hard, and now I'm lying in our bed again." I had barely said, "Hard??? That ain't the half of it!" before she cut me off by getting up and pushing past me. She shoved me aside and said, "God, I don't think I've ever been this hungry. You wanna tell me what happened, ya better come to the kitchen." And with that she was headed back to where this all started. She barely slowed down as she pointed at the puddle on the tile while making her way to the cabinet where we keep most of our non-restaurant food like cereal. "Me?" she asked over her shoulder as she got out three different boxes. "I like to think I had something to do with it too, but yes. That was you. As is the soaked chair and the saturated bathrobe...sorry, robeS," I answered, emphasizing the last "S". I couldn't understand her reply as she had shoved her entire mouth full of cereal (Cinnamon Toast Crunch?). She again shoved me to the side as she opened the walk-in and passed by the milk to grab a gallon of heavy cream. When she just started drinking it straight out of the jug like a man dying of thirst, it was time to start worrying again. "Char? What's going on? Are you OK?" She stopped long enough to say to me, "Sam, I don't know. I don't think so. I was so hungry in the bedroom, hungrier than I've ever been, but the more I eat the hungrier I get." She saw a pack of thin sliced steak on a shelf and looked both scared and desperate as she just dropped the almost empty jug on the floor and grabbed the steak, eating it raw. I didn't know what to say or do so I stared as my demure wife of 22 years ravenously tore into raw meat like a starving tiger. When she grabbed the next pack and tore it open I shook my head to clear it. I moved next to her. "Char, stop." I pleaded and she looked at me with wide eyes without even slowing down. "Charlene! Stop!" I shouted. She looked at me with panic in her eyes now and practically screamed at me through her tears an almost unrecognizable "I **CAN'T**", never breaking stride as she pushed more raw meat into her mouth. I told her I was calling for help and she screamed, "NO! I don't want anyone to see me like this! They'll think I'm a crazy woman!" The way she was shoving raw steak past her words was making her point terrifyingly clear. Then she saw the rib roasts. Just like the cream, the rest of the steak fell from her hands without a second thought as she lunged for her next obsession. When she started trying to eat the bones I tried to take it out of her hands. That didn't go well. She shoved me so hard I hit the wall behind me and I nearly blacked out from the impact. I'm 6'1", 210lbs. Char is 5'5" and 115. She should not have been able to do that. Before I could see straight she was yelling "I'm sorry! But I have to keep eating and you were going to stop me. I can't stop! I have to keep going!" I'm sure I heard the sound of her teeth cracking as she made a few more attempts at trying to chew through the ribs. "I have to eat the bones but I can't. Help me. PLEASE!" What other choice was left to me? I couldn't stop her...tried that...couldn't reason with her...tried that too...so what was left? So I helped her. If it was a delusion, maybe playing along will let it run its course and she'll stop. Worst case, she'd stop if she ruptured something, THEN I could convince her to let me call 911, so I grabbed another rib roast and put it in the industrial grinder installed in the refrigerated prep area, bones and all. I took the first handful of ground meat and bone chips over to my wife and she grabbed it out of my hand. She shoved it into her mouth and for the first time since she started drinking the cream the desperation left her face. "Oh thank God. More of this, bring me more of this. This is what I need!" I couldn't bring it fast enough and she ended up laying under the grinder and basically swallowing the ground beef as fast as it could come out. She wasn't even chewing anymore. This was beyond wrong. There is no possible way Char could have eaten this much. It wasn't physically possible. He stomach was so distended it looked like she was pregnant...with twins. I should have called 911 when I had the chance, now it looked like it was too late. I laid down to hold my wife and realized she was burning up. Hotter than I have ever felt someone get in my life. Sweat was pouring off her skin. I ran and got a blanket from the linen closet and soaked it in the sink, but I couldn't do anything more to cool her down. In just the time it took to do that she had tried to crawl back over to the roasts. I had to keep feeding roasts into the grinder or she would start to get frantic again, struggling to stand. I was numb at this point, just following the bizarre routine of grinding slab after slab after slab of meat, not even paying attention to what I was doing. When I got to the last roast, I was startled out of my haze. 160 lbs. My wife had eaten 160 pounds of raw beef, bones and all. I let the grinder finish what was in the hopper and my wife didn't object when the flow of ground beef tapered off. She just licked what she could off her face into her mouth and then closed her eyes. Her face looked darker from the blood that came out of the meat she was "eating" and I got a wet cloth to clean her. As I wiped, I realized she wasn't darker from the blood...SHE was darker. And she kept getting darker as I watched. I pleaded with her, "Char! You have to wake up! Get up!" She stirred and started struggling. I pulled the blanket off her to get the weight off her chest and help her breathe and was terrified at what I saw. She didn't look pregnant anymore, the 160 pounds of meat had been distributed evenly throughout my wife's entire body making her look like a vaguely human shaped blob. Her skin was stretched to the limit and had torn open in a few places. My wife's growth had been hidden under the blanket and I had no idea the changes were so extreme until I pulled it off. Char was really waking up now and just how far things had gone were starting to sink in. Char couldn't move, there was just too much weight to her now, and when I tried to pick her up it hurt her too much. Everything was hurting, every joint, every bone, every nerve it seemed like. At first the pain was all we could pay attention to, but we started to notice other things happening throughout her body. The most obvious was when all her hair just sloughed off. It seemed to happen almost instantaneously. One moment I was stroking her head to keep her calm, a few seconds later, her scalp just slid off in my hand. I knew then that Charlene was dying and there was nothing either of us could do. I was afraid to even go get a pain killer for fear that I would miss her final moments and she would die alone and scared. I did the only thing I could and held her and told her how much I loved her over and over. Chapter 3 "You Are What You Eat" As I held her hand in mind I kept having to reposition her fingers. She was always shifting them from the pain. I looked down to see if there was a different way I could hold her hand so she wouldn't have to keep adjusting hers. Everything on Char was swollen beyond belief, almost beyond recognition, but I swore her hand looked the same size as mine, bigger actually. Not from the swelling, the structure under the swelling. The bones in her hand looked the same size as mine. I turned my hand over so we were palm to palm and I was right. I could feel her bones all the way to the ends of my fingers. I started looking at the rest of her and it's hard to tell for sure with the swelling, but I thought she was taller...and wider. I didn't say anything at first because I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I kept holding her with her head in my lap as she laid on the floor of the walk-in, her jaw clenched, silently writhing in pain. In a few minutes, I was sure. Her shoulders were noticeably wider and the swelling looked like it was reduced too. "Char? I don't know if this makes any sense, but I think you're growing." She looked up at me but she was in too much pain to say anything coherent. Almost as if because I noticed it, the whole process seemed to speed up. Her legs were the easiest to see because they were pushing out from her body like they were telescoping. I could hear bones and joints popping as she grew and with each one she yelled out in pain. I held her as closely as I could without hurting her more, but it was getting harder and harder to do that. Not just because Char was in so much pain, but because my wife was now taller than I was and substantially more broad in the chest. With every inch she grew, the swelling reduced and I realized her body was using all the food she consumed to fuel her impossible growth. As Char got larger, her voice got lower and soon her cries of pain were a baritone and still dropping, all the while her skin continued to darken. Her hairless head started sprouting coarse black hair and when hair started growing on her cheeks and chin forming the start to a beard, it was undeniable what must be happening. I had been focused on Char's face, not really looking at the rest of her except when she would yelp or groan from a popping sound somewhere and with the swelling reduced but still extensive, I didn't see the obvious, or didn't want to. Her jaw was square and her face was very masculine, but with all the puffiness I had missed it. I snapped my head up to look at the rest of her and there wasn't any doubt. My beautiful petite wife, was now an enormous black man. But no better proof of the transformation could be made than the 6" flaccid cock now laying between her legs that moments earlier didn't even exist. My mouth opened and closed several times. I was trying to speak, but it was too overwhelming to put a complete thought together - mentally, physically, but mostly emotionally. My overarching joy at realizing my wife was NOT actually dying was smashing into the reality that my wife was also now completely gone. In her place was this, this...whatever it is that she was becoming. As my mind was trying to reach some sort of balance between all the conflicting information and emotions, her transformation was completing and I watched in numb silence as her growth slowed and then stopped, the end tapering off just as slowly as it had began. All of the swelling had been replaced with firm muscle and skin. Her body was that of an athlete, very muscular without looking like a bodybuilder. She was about 6'6" or 6'8", towering over my 6'1" height, or she would when she stands up. Her penis ended up at about 8" limp, a little more than I am erect, and at a little over 2" across, thicker soft than I am hard. She stopped getting darker once the color of her skin matched my "tanned" cock, leaving little doubt as to what started the changes in motion. Now that the changes had finished and her pain had finally stopped, Char was out, and I mean OUT. After several attempts to wake her, I "carried" her to our bed. Carried is a bit generous of a term as she now weighed somewhere north of 260 lbs., outweighing me by a good 50. Using a fireman carry I got her to the bed and was able to get her torso on the mattress. After that the legs were easy. Having lifted her body, I can definitively say she is *built*. She has almost no body fat and the rest is pure muscle (Pure muscle and cock that is, geeze that thing is huge). What she didn't have anymore was a belly button, but without an umbilical cord I guessed she didn't need one when her body transformed. I sat in the chair next to the bed just watching her sleep (I knew I should be calling my wife a "him", but I couldn't bring myself to allow that thought). Her breathing was slow and steady and she really did just look like she was sleeping. I stopped worrying so much about the transformation itself and turned my thoughts to where we would go from here. I don't know how long I had everything swirling around in my head before I gave into my own exhaustion, but I woke up about 4 hours later to the sound of a large black man yelling, "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" at the top of his lungs. (I know I *just* said I couldn't call my wife "him", but it took me several seconds to realize the voice was coming *from* my wife). I snapped awake as the full situation hit me again. My wife was standing in front of the full length mirror by the closet moving this or that part of her body as she watched her reflection do the same, the flow of "FUCK"s never ending. I stood up but didn't move any closer as I could tell she knew I was there but was still focused on the mirror. After another minute or so, tears flowing down her face, she ran over to me and pulled me into her arms, hugging me. It was yet another dissonance...foreign and familiar at the same time. Her hands ran up and down my back as they always do when she needs comforting, only one of a hundred little ways that told me this truly was my wife. At the same time her "hug" was making it hard for me to even breathe and her head which would normally snuggle up right below my chin was now resting its cheek on the top of mine. She broke the hug and stepped back, a look of horror on her face, when she heard my labored breathing. "Oh my God! I am SO SO sorry!" Without hesitation I ran back up to her and took her in my arms, soothing her by telling her, "Everything was OK, it will all be OK." She held me for a very long time, just holding and being held before she again broke the embrace and stepped back and looked down at me. As she realized how wrong her being able *to* look down at me actually was, she shook her head. "How?" "I think it was the tanning lotion." She shook her head again, more firmly this time. "No, not that how. How will everything be OK?" As I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again, she continued, "You don't know, do you?" "Is this reversible? Will I change back on my own? What will we do at the company?" That one I had an answer to. "Fuck the company." "What?!" "You heard me, FUCK. THE. COMPANY. We never have to work another day in our lives, even if we live to be 150. Danube will be there with or without us. This." gesturing between the two of us, "This, is what matters! I know my wife is inside the body in front of me and all I care about right now is trying to get your body back." "What if we can't? What if this is who I am...what I am now?" She choked the sentence out as she began to cry again. We both have tears flowing down our faces and I take her hands in mine. "Honestly, I don't know. All I know is that you are the person I married. The person that I can't imagine living without. The person that my world revolves around. I didn't marry you for your body, and I won't leave you for it either, even if it isn't the same body you started with." As I said it out loud, I felt the truth in it and a calm came over me for the first time in this whole ordeal. I knew that whatever happened, I was with the love of my life and that love had nothing to do with the shell that contained it. Still...I did prefer one shell over the other. We agreed to tell the office we wouldn't be coming in for at least several weeks and to reach us electronically for anything critical. We started tracking down the company that sent us the tubes and at the same time started contacting whatever experts we could find that might be able to figure out what happened and how we might reverse it. We had a plan, and that was a start. Chapter 4 "Two Men and a Plan" So the plan... It was a good plan. It was working, too. OK, *part* of it was. There was nothing we could find about the company that sent the tubes. I mean nothing. We had a private forensics team go over everything, and they turned up...you got it, nothing. The only fingerprints on anything were from us, not even a set from a delivery driver. The shipping box was from Staples, the instruction sheet from the most common manufacturer of paper, printed then copied in low resolution so even the printer information that gets secretly embedded in everything you print couldn't be read. Even the tubes had been taken from a standard run of a manufacturer of tubes for generic lotions and hand crimped after being filled. The "printing" on the tubes was really stenciling and the ink was, you guessed it, the most commonly manufactured ink. These were definitely not just samples. Somebody wanted this to happen. But we don't know why, and we sure don't know who. We had better luck with the experts, even though we didn't think we were going to at first. Most of the experts didn't even begin to believe us despite our offer to pay cash up front and refused to meet. I couldn't blame them though. They weren't willing to risk that we might be setting them up for some sort of sting to discredit them or their work. We did find one geneticist, a Dr. Gunter Heidel, adjunct professor at Cortruvo University outside Triangle Park in Tennessee, that was not only willing to listen, but agreed to run some tests. The thing that sealed the deal for him was that Char didn't have a belly button, not even scarring from having it removed. The tests came next. He ran a current sample from Char, from some pre-transformation hair follicle off one of her brushes, from me, and from both tubes of lotion. He was quite excited when he called us with the results. It was had to wrap our heads around what we were dealing with. The lotions had some partial DNA strands that were meant to locally alter the genes regulating melanin production creating a permanent change, which explains why I still had a chocolate brown dick. I was just happy it didn't make it permanently orange. The joke would have been much less funny if I was the punchline for the rest of my life. The DNA was mixed with a viral delivery system, which Dr. Heidel had named TT virus (after the source - Transformation Tanning) and the TT virus spliced the DNA into the cells they came in contact with replacing the original DNA. Finally there was a compound to boost metabolism during the changes. That explains why my dick got brown so fast and my wife completely transformed in less than an hour. There were some complete sets of DNA (XY in the "for Male" and XX in the "for Female" lotions) mixed in with the partial strands for the melanin, and by ingesting the mixture (by sucking my dick that was covered in the lotion) Char underwent a whole body DNA replacement instead of just changing the melanin producing cells. I asked why she started eating like she did and he said he wasn't sure, but he thought it was pickles. When we both looked at him like he was crazy and trust me, it took A LOT to get that look out of us at that point. He explained, "Pickles. Pickles and ice cream...pregnancy cravings. They're usually caused by the body needing a specific nutrient. Even though the person having the craving doesn't know *why* they are craving it, their body does. I believe the same thing happened here. Char's body somehow knew it needed to have all the extra raw materials and energy to complete the transformation. Didn't you say she only stopped being frantic once you ground the bones with the meat?" We nodded. "She needed the minerals from the bones to enlarge her skeleton and she wasn't getting that from the meat alone." Dr. Heidel paused for a moment and then looked Char right in the eyes and said, "You do realize you how incredibly lucky you had such a flawless transformation, don't you?" "I'm sure the DNA transfer could have caused all sorts of problems." I mumbled in response to this rather obvious statement, not wanting to think about what would have happened to Char in those other cases. Dr. Heidel turned back to me and answered, "Actually, no. The TT virus was extremely well engineered, amazingly so, really. The DNA replacement was perfect. No, the reason your wife turned out like this is that you had nearly 200 pounds of raw meat on hand. I'm willing to guess that nearly everyone else in the world in your situation would have had a very tragic outcome." I took my wife's hand in mine as that sank in. "Without the extra raw material, she would have transformed into a malnourished weakened body that would have all the difficulties that would come from a lifetime of starvation, stunted growth, poor health, vulnerabilities to disease...I could go on. As it is, Charlene is the most optimized version the DNA she ingested could become. The most perfect version of all the possible outcomes." I squeezed Char's hand a little tighter before asking my next question. "Professor, is what happened reversible?" "I think so, yes. The switch back should be much easier as well." "Oh thank God" My wife and I exclaimed simultaneously. "Why would going back make a difference?" I asked. "Mass. Going from larger mass to smaller mass doesn't require any ingestion of new raw materials. There is probably going to be some sort of expulsion of the excess, actually. The only thing you'll have to be careful of is controlling for temperature. You will still run the risk of brain damage if you don't keep the body cool during the process. I don't foresee that as a risk here, though. I have a very large water bath that I can set anywhere from freezing to boiling, but I think 5 degrees should be about right." "5??? You want to freeze my wife in a block of ice?" "A block..." A grin spread across his face as he realized his mistake, "No No No. 5 degrees CENTIGRADE. I'm sorry, even after forty-three years of living in the United States I still have difficulty understanding your measurements." He thought for a moment, "That should be about 40 degrees Fahrenheit." As I nod, my wife leaned forward and excitedly asked, "When do we start?!" happiness showing in her face for the first time in months. "We already have," Dr. Heidel said as he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied expression. "I have been reverse engineering the delivery virus since you gave me the samples and with a few modifications, I believe we will be able to reverse the process with very little risk to Charlene. He should be just fine." We both sighed and relaxed at the news squeezing each other's hand again in our excitement. We had spent no small amount of money with Professor Heidel already, but his real reward would come with the cure. We had agreed to transfer 49% of Bleu Danube, Inc. to Dr. Heidel for a successful reversal of Char's transformation. That was quite the motivation to keep things moving forward and also to keep things safe. If anything happened to Char in the process, he would get nothing. "It will take me some time to complete the work on the delivery virus, but I am sure it can be done." My wife's face fell and the hope drained out of him (and yes, by now, I did think of my wife as a he). "How long is 'some time', Doctor?" he asked quietly. "Somewhere between 3 and 6, I think." At the slumping of his shoulders, he quickly added, "Months. Between 3 and 6 months." Char sighed in relief. It was clear he'd thought Dr. Heidel meant years, not months and some degree of hope returned to his expression, but not quite as much as before. After working out some details with Dr. Heidel on a schedule to provide updates on his progress and the timing of our next few "grants" toward his research, we thanked him for all his work and Char ambushed him with a big hug as we got ready to leave. Dr. Heidel's surprised expression turned quickly to compassion and he returned the embrace. We got home in the best mood we had been in for almost a year, since the day Char transformed. We made a celebratory meal complete with champagne and laid down on the couch to watch a movie. I snuggled in against him and thought about our journey together since the transformation. Chapter 5 "The Scar Between Us" At first it was very difficult for me to be close to Char. He was the physical opposite of what I had known my wife to be for the first 22 years of our marriage. He was taller than me, more muscular than me (and I did everything not to think about how much more endowed he was than me). When my wife and I had cuddled on the couch before the transformation, I would lay down first and she would lay at my side and snuggle in, partially on top, laying her head on my chest. I would put my arm around her and absent-mindedly stroke her arm or her hair while we watched a movie or TV. She used to joke that I must have thought of her as my cat, considering how often I would pet her when we were on the couch or in bed. After she transformed, I could lay next to him, or even against him with our arms touching. Sometimes we would hold hands when we lay like that, but I couldn't bring myself to do more. It felt too foreign. We tried with him laying on me, but he was so heavy it was uncomfortable for me and he was now so so tall it was uncomfortable for him too as he had to stay hunched over to even be the same height as me. I'm not sure when it happened, but a month or so after the transformation, I laid on him for the first time, curling my arm around his back and he put his arm around me. It still felt strange, but good. As the weeks passed, it became more natural, and eventually it seemed second nature. Being physically close was both easier and harder for Char than for me. She still had all the memories of desiring me, of getting excited thinking about my body and being with me, but she no longer really had those drives. We thought the trauma of the change had affected her libido and Char's lack of desire might have been temporary, and I thought I might be able to learn to have, possibly even grow to like sex with her new body. I mean, in an abstract sense, even though I was straight, she was hot as hell...for a guy. So after cuddling on the couch began to feel normal, we decided to experiment in the bedroom. The immediate shock of the transformation had long abated, and now that I was clearly more comfortable with the physical side of things, we decided to give it a try. We did everything we could to help things along. We set the mood with a good meal, candles, music, wine...we pulled out all the stops. We should have realized it would seem a little forced, like we were trying too hard to make something happen, but this was a few months after the change and everything between us still hadn't really settled in yet. I had tried kissing Char a few times already and it felt very nice if he had JUST shaved. I've always loved to have Char's tongue in my mouth while we kiss and if anything his bigger tongue was even more exciting. When we kissed I just close my eyes and pretended I was still kissing my old Char, but if he had stubble I couldn't do that. It was too obvious I was kissing a man and I couldn't let go to kiss him deeply. The shaving was a story in and of itself...you'd think someone that had been shaving her legs and pits for decades wouldn't freak out about shaving his face, but after the fourth or fifth time shaving, he exclaimed, "I have to do this EVERY day??? I only had to shave my legs once a week!" BTW, Char just couldn't get used to the feel of hair on his legs so he kept shaving them, and feeling that smoothness helped me feel less uncomfortable when we would get close. His new body is nothing if not masculine, but like the feel of his clean shaven face, his hairless legs helped minimize the obvious. That night, Char had shaved just hours beforehand to be completely smooth. We bantered a bit through dinner, but most of it fell a little flat, like a date with someone you can be friends with, but without that "spark". We loosened up with the second bottle of wine and the awkwardness seemed to have dissipated. By halfway through the third bottle we were three sheets to the wind and thought we should head for the bedroom while we might still be able to do something when we got there. We laughed all the way down the hall, each of us helping to steady the other. When we opened the door our earlier efforts in getting things ready really paid off. The candles had burned down to a pleasant glow, their scent enveloping the room. The bed looked so inviting we went straight there and laid across the bed sinking into the down comforter. We kissed for several minutes and then Char started undressing me. I was a little surprised by this as I used to start undressing her before I would undress myself. It seemed the roles had reversed. After he removed my shirt, he ran his hand down my chest slowly until he got to my waist and unbuckled my belt and opened my pants. I lifted my ass and he pulled everything down to my ankles. He removed my shoes and socks, tossing them behind him, before yanking my pants the rest of the way off. They joined my shoes in a pile of my clothes in the corner. Char ran his hand up my legs to my crotch and I jumped a bit when he cupped my balls, partly because it had been so long since someone other than me had touched them, but mostly because of the unexpected roughness of his hands. I never realized how much smoother a woman's hands were until I had my balls sitting in a man's. The difference was even more apparent when he started stroking my cock. Compared to Char's skin before the transformation, it almost felt like getting jacked by fine grit sandpaper. Not the most appealing of sensations, and with the effect of the wine my dick only stirred, but didn't fully respond. Char stood up and unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall off his shoulders onto the floor, like she would do with her robe before. Then he opened his pants and let them drop, too. I honestly don't know when he had taken off his shoes and socks, but he wasn't wearing them now and just stepped forward out of his pants. He took my hands and placed them on the waistband of his boxers and I knew what he wanted, what he wanted me to do. In my tipsy state I willingly went along with things and pulled them down slowly, marveling at the huge cock between his legs pressing against the front of his underwear. I must have gotten the shorts down to mid-thigh before it popped free of the waistband. Unlike me, Char was definitely responding to the situation, his already giant cock getting longer and thicker before my eyes. I'm not sure what I felt at that moment, exactly, but they weren't thoughts you want when you're trying to make love to your spouse. There was a mixture of amazement (no matter what else, there were probably only a few hundred of cocks this size on the *planet* and this one was inches from my face...and growing), grief (at the loss of the type of sex life we had shared throughout our marriage), aversion (as a straight man, I never had any desire to be this close to another man's cock), and I am sorry to say jealousy, followed quickly by shame. It was the jealousy that made me feel the shame. This horrible thing had happened to us, beyond her or my control, and as I stared at his new cock I could feel the clear and unmistakable stab of jealousy. It wasn't the strongest feeling I was having at that moment, but it was the one that I felt most clearly. That is until the wave of shame hit me when I realized what the stab of jealousy was from. I think it was wanting to make up for the shame more than anything that pushed me to the next step. I took his cock in my hands. I couldn't even close the fingers of one hand around it and it *still* wasn't completely hard. The warmth and smoothness of it surprised me. It felt like velvet in my hands and I slowly stroked it up and down, more marveling at what *I* was feeling than thinking about what I was doing or what my wife was experiencing. He moaned loudly and I looked up at him from the side of the bed. He looked down at me and I could tell he wanted more, but he stopped short of asking. Feeling it was my choice to do what came next made it easier to decide if I was going to or not. I was *WAY* out of my comfort zone and I would have been done if I had felt pushed or forced in any way. I took a moment longer to reflect on my decision before slowly, almost reluctantly sliding off the bed and kneeling on the floor in front of Char. I looked up at him one more time before I accepted my decision. I lifted up the head of his cock and closed my eyes. I opened my mouth and leaned forward, the tip of his cock brushing my lips. I thought about kissing it or licking it first, but those both seemed more intimate to me and I wasn't ready for that, so I leaned forward a little more and felt his cock separate my lips and the head popped inside my mouth. "Teeth!" I heard from above me and quickly opened wider. In my life, I never thought I would hear that word directed to me in this situation. His head was so huge I didn't have a choice about if I was going to press my tongue along the bottom of his cock or not as my tongue was pushed into the bottom of my stretched mouth. I could feel him getting harder still and he continued to stretch larger in length and girth. The sensation of feeling his heartbeat inside my mouth through his cock when he was fully erect was unexpected, as was the feeling of the hard "core" of his cock enveloped by a much softer layer that would slide up and down his shaft as I stroked him. When I got erect, my skin would stretch almost drum tight and the outer layer was much thinner. I never knew that it could move independently like Char's...mine never had. Char was moaning like crazy now. Trying to pretend there was a porno playing in the background and that I wasn't the one causing the moans I was hearing helped, but not much. I opened my eyes for a moment when I realized I had stopped moving my hands. With all the other things and sensations happening around and to me, I had forgotten about moving them. I quickly squeezed them shut at the site of Char's huge dick sticking out of my mouth, my hands looking tiny wrapped around it. The image was too much to take. I wasn't ready to see that, to be unable to pretend I wasn't doing what I was doing. I tried instead to focus on the individual sensations I was experiencing, like the smoothness of his skin in my mouth, as they were the one part of what was happening that wasn't putting me on edge. I starting sliding my hands up and down the shaft, varying the strength of my grip to feel the differences in how the skin moved under my fingers. The silkiness of his shaft was complemented by his soft velvety head sliding against my tongue. I could only get about three inches into my mouth he was so thick. Char started moaning louder and put his hands on the sides of my head, stroking my hair as I sucked his cock. That made me more and more uncomfortable and the effects of the wine were starting to wear off, too. I don't think I could have gone on past for more than a few minutes of this and as it turned out I didn't have to. I felt a huge increase of the slickness inside my mouth and when I tasted his pre-cum leaking out of his cock, I knew what was about to happen. I frantically tried to get away and free my mouth from his cock, but right then his orgasm hit and every muscle in his body tensed up, including the ones holding his hands around my head. I tried backing up but I was pressed against the bed. I tried to turn my head or stand up, but his grip was too strong for me to overcome. I couldn't even drop down, I was already sitting. I couldn't move more than an inch in any direction and an inch wasn't nearly enough to free my mouth from his dick. Char outweighed me by about fifty pounds and had at least twice the lean muscle. I couldn't even budge. I jumped from frantic to panic as his precum flushed into my mouth. Char rolled his head back towards the ceiling. He made what can only be described as a "roar" and spurts of hot cum began shooting into my mouth making the bottom of his cock bulge outward as the cum was squeezed through it and into my trapped mouth. His cock was jumping up and down with each contraction as I pushed against his hips in futile desperation. With every jump, another stream of cum shot into my mouth and almost immediately filled the small space not already occupied by his huge cock. His head was too big for the cum to go around so I did the only thing I could do. I started to swallow. I had to have made two or three full swallows before his muscles relaxed some and I finally succeeded in pushing myself back. One quick breath and my sense of relief ended as I realized this wasn't any better. Char muscles had relaxed about halfway through his orgasm so he was still cumming when I was able to push myself back. I now had rope after rope of his hot cum splattering onto my face and neck, covering them almost completely. I wanted to turn away, to raise a hand to block the shower of cum onto my face, to do...something, but in the shock of it all I just froze until he finished, unable to move. He looked down at me smiling with amazement at the sensations he had just experienced, but when he saw the look of abject horror and disgust on my face as his cum dripped off my cheeks and chin, he immediately knelt down next to me apologizing over and over as he quickly started to wipe his cum off my face. I just let him, not moving at all through the process. I didn't speak a word, not even when he left to get a wet towel and returned to clean me off. I sat there, breathing and blinking, nothing more. When he was done, I just stood up silently and walked out of the room to one of our guest rooms and closed the door. Char knew better than to follow right behind. I laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. After about 30 minutes I heard my wife knocking at the door asking and then begging me to open it. At the sound of his voice, I curled into a ball and started quietly crying, not stopping until long after he had left hours later. Chapter 6 "...a Scar Between Us" Char and I didn't speak for at least two days. No, that's not entirely true. He kept begging me to talk to him about it. I didn't speak. Not. A. Word. I could tell it was killing him, but I couldn't even form words about how I felt during the days that followed. I wasn't sure I even cared if it hurt him or not, which only added to my emotional confusion. I had so many thoughts running through my head. I know I willingly started down that road with him. Hell, I was even the one that started things off by blowing him. He didn't even ask, or did he...no, not out loud, at least, but was he still asking me to do it somehow? WHY do I do it? Did I somehow tell him that anything goes when I touched his cock? What signals did I send? Was it my fault that I changed my mind part way through it? Was there anything I could have done differently? Anything I should have? What happened to my wife when she transformed? Her body had changed, but had her mind? Had the transformation changed her morality and I only just noticed? I thought this Char was the same Char I fell in love with, but was he really? Really-really? I knew how my wife was before she changed, and she would never have forced anything on me, certainly not something that was such a personal violation...and that was when it clicked. I felt violated. Char had used me for his own pleasure without any consideration of me and what it would do to me. I had been dancing around that thought in my head ever since that night, but I couldn't quite bring myself to complete it. Not only did I not want to admit that Char could do something like that, deeper down I didn't want to admit that something like that could happen to me. As soon as those thoughts solidified, I made a beeline to the kitchen, and to Char. I walked up to him with such fury in my eyes he was backing away with his hands up defensively. "Sam, easy honey." "I have one word for you," I shouted at him before I spat, "Why?" like it burned to have it in my mouth. "I've been trying to tell you since that night. I didn't do it!" "Oh, Jesus Christ." I turned to walk away before turning back after two or three steps, returning even more angry than I was. "You've had *days* and that's the best you can come up with? 'It wasn't me'??? Like it was some other black man that used to be my wife who nearly choked me by shooting his load in my mouth before topping it of by covering my face in the rest of his cum and completely humiliating me???" Who was it then if it wasn't you? Who!?!?!?" My wife reacted like I had slapped him when he heard me say "used to be my wife" and all the will and resolve to explain his actions poured out of him. He slumped down and hung his head. When he realized I was actually expecting an answer he raised his head and looked into my eyes. As much anger as I had in mine, he had the same amount of pain and hurt...and I was glad he did. He whispered something that I couldn't make out. "WHAT WAS THAT?! SAY IT AGAIN!!" I shouted to him ready for the fight I knew was coming. Only slightly less quietly, he repeated what he had said, barely in a whisper loud enough to make out, "Do you still love me?" I was taken aback for a moment. Of all the responses he might have had, that was not one I had expected. "Of course I still love you! Why the fuck do you think I'm so upset? The woman..." I stopped myself and took the briefest of moments before I corrected that, a mote of the anger in my voice fading in the process, "the person I love hurt me deeply and I want to know why!" (I said some of the anger...I was still pissed) "I didn't do it." She put her hand up to stop my response when she saw I was about to explode again. "I mean, I didn't have any control over it." "Sam, I didn't even know what was happening. A male orgasm is...is...is...well, it isn't anything like what I had experienced as a woman. Before I changed, I would have this slow build of energy almost like filling a pool. Each thing you did to me added a little more to the pool. Every caress, every kiss, every time you would touch me, caress me...enter me...it all added to the pool. I would have little releases as things built up, like waves splashing across the surface, but to really have an orgasm, that pool had to overflow. When it did it was like all of the energy put into it poured out at once, every touch, every caress, every lick...they all hit again, at the same time. I would feel it everywhere. I would see colors, feel like I was floating. It would literally curl my toes." Even in my anger I couldn't help smiling at that last comment because I had loved feeling her toes dig into my sides as she came while I was eating her out. "But a male orgasm...it's so fast, but SO intense. I felt the start of the build up and I thought it was just going to be a little orgasm as I built up to more. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late. I didn't even know I was about to cum until everything in my body tensed up. I could feel you pushing against me, but I couldn't move at all for a few seconds. By the time I could let you go it was almost over." "Almost my ass! You still put half your load on my face! I was in a panic and you wouldn't let go! The more scared I got, the harder you held on. I feel used, Char. Used, humiliated, and violated. I trusted you to protect me in there," as I pointed towards the bedroom, "I'm fucking straight and I sucked your goddamn cock because of how much I love you and you violated that trust. You raped me." Those last words came out in a raspy broken whisper and I owned for the first time the thought I had been running from. I dropped into in a chair by the table when my knees gave way as the reality of how deeply violated I felt set in. Really set in. His eyes widened in horror as it set in for him, too. "Oh, Sam. I am SO SO sorry." He began to openly sob and slumped to the floor, unable to even stand once he realized what he had done. He knew he had hurt me that night. He knew it was bad. But he had never even considered I was that hurt, and as he thought back to how numb I was after it happened...how I didn't even move as he was cleaning me...it was clear he realized it was true. He had violated the person he loved more than anything, more than life itself, in a way that can never be undone. That scar will forever be between him and I no matter how much time passes from here, and Char knew it. Through my grief, anger, hurt, etc., etc., (Insert negative emotion here...I had all of them at some point over the past few days), I always thought that there had been some sort of decision by Char, and never doubted that he knew what he had done to me, how hurt I was. But seeing the impact from the realization of the totality of what he did to me...I knew I had gotten at least the last part wrong. God help me I still loved Char with all that I was, and no matter how hurt I was, I just couldn't watch my wife cry like that. This wasn't crying it out, this is the kind of grief you see when a parent is told their child has been killed. Char thought that he and I were done, that there was no way back from here and it was just a matter of time until we were no longer an us. I had thought so too, but the stab I felt in my heart watching him in pain like that gave me all the proof I needed to know that no matter what form in which it might end up, we would always be an us. If I could feel so much pain from watching the man who so deeply violated me suffering in pain himself, I would never not love him. My own tears streaming down my face, I went to Char and sat down next to him. He looked up at me and tried to say "I'm sorry" but no sounds came out. I lifted him up to a sitting position and just hugged him. After a long moment he hugged me back and we just cried with each other for, well I don't even know how long, but we were still crying and locked in an embrace long after the tears had run out. We were back to sitting next to each other on the couch for awhile, a long while, but before we had found Dr. Heidel we were cuddling again. We never did anything in the bedroom after that, though. Well we slept together, literally slept, but nothing intimate. Eventually we talked about trying again, being more careful and letting me take the lead, but when Char's DNA changed, so did his sexual identification. We thought he would probably have body dysmorphia after the change because Char's mind was in a male body, but he didn't. He wasn't even bisexual. Char was an arrow straight man. So was I. And therein was the problem. The first time felt like we were forcing it, because we were. I was doing it out of a sense of obligation, because I wanted to try to keep the intimacy I had had with Char before the transformation. He was doing it out of obligation, but also from a sense of memory, from remembering how much he had loved being with me when he was a woman. Obviously Char had been able to reach orgasm that night, but that had more to do with everything being a new sensation than it being a great experience. He was scared of how experiences with his new equipment might affect him if we were able change him back so he hadn't even really explored the possibilities of his new body. When it looked like he might never get changed back, he decided to try things out by being intimate with me. Bottom line though, he didn't really like watching me sucking his cock, and he no longer had any desire to suck mine again. He said