I wasn't even thirsty.
I just wanted something new. Something different. I was walking back from the gym
when I spotted a vending machine I swear hadn't been there yesterday.
It looked weird—sleek black metal with glowing neon buttons, like something out of a
cyberpunk movie. Half the labels weren't even in English. Most were just
symbols. But one caught my eye: a pink bottle with a seductive-looking swirl on
it and the word "Re:Form" in stylized lettering.
What the hell, I thought. Why not?
I popped in a couple coins, pressed the glowing button, and a cold, oddly-shaped
bottle clunked into the tray below. The liquid inside shimmered like liquid
candy, glowing faintly in the low light.
I twisted the cap and took a swig. It was sweet. Bubbly. Fruity, but in a way I
couldn't place. Almost immediately, warmth spread through my chest and belly,
like swallowing something alive.
Then everything changed.
It started with my hands — fingers shrinking, nails growing slightly. I dropped
the bottle, stepping back in alarm. My arms slimmed out, the hair vanishing
like it had never been there. My torso tightened, stomach pulling in as a
strange pressure filled my chest.
Then, with two hard pulses, my pecs grew — expanded — inflated, straining the fabric
of my shirt. I gasped, staring down as two massive, soft DD-cup breasts rose up on my chest, jiggling with each breath.
"What the fuck?!"
My voice was higher — breathy, smooth. My shirt stretched over my new tits like
they were going to rip through at any moment.
Then came the hips.
My waist crunched inward as my hips widened dramatically. My ass inflated with a
hot pulse, becoming thick, round, bouncy. My shorts rode up, caught between a
growing pair of thunder thighs. My cock tingled, throbbed — then sank. The skin pulled
tight, everything inside me twisting and rearranging. I moaned as the tip
disappeared entirely, replaced by wet heat. My center opened.
"No…no no no—!" I stumbled backward into my apartment and slammed the door shut,
panting, shaking.
The mirror confirmed it: a total transformation.
I looked like a fucking pornstar — a walking wet dream. I was short now, maybe
5'4", with a thick, hourglass figure, massive tits, an ass that could suffocate
someone, and wide, fuckable hips. My skin was flawless. My lips were plump and
glossy. Long black hair framed a face that was still me… but the hottest female version of me imaginable.
I was panicking, heart racing, trembling all over. I mean, how was I supposed to explain this everyone I knew? Worse still, i might be taken to lab a experimented on at this point.
Then I saw the fine print on the dropped bottle, glowing faintly on the side:
"One Night Only: All
transformations revert at sunrise. Enjoy yourself."
My heart rate slowed.
Okay… okay. So this wasn't permanent. It was just for the night. Like a dream. I'd be
back to normal by morning.
A fucked-up part of me asked the question I'd been avoiding:
Why not enjoy it?
Ten minutes later, I was in bed, naked, legs spread, staring at my reflection in
the mirror across the room. My fingers trembled as they hovered near my wet,
sensitive slit.
I'd never even seen a real pussy this close before, and now I was one. Smooth lips glistened between my thighs, flushed pink and glistening. My clit peeked out
like a tiny swollen pearl, begging to be touched.
I'd been hard as a guy, sure. Horny. But this was different. I was wet. Achingly, desperately wet.
I exhaled slowly… and let my fingers make contact.
I gasped.
It was like touching a live wire. My whole body lit up. My hips jerked
involuntarily, back arching, tits bouncing as the first shudder of pleasure
rolled through me.
"F-fuck…"
My voice was pure sin now — moaning, sultry, needy.
I spread my lower lips with one hand and ran my other finger up the slick, tender
folds. The heat was unreal. My slit throbbed and twitched under every touch,
soaking my fingers with ease. The deeper I explored, the wetter I got. It was
like my body was starving for attention.
Every stroke of my clit sent a jolt through my spine. I kept rubbing it in circles,
then flicks, then hard swipes. I couldn't stop moaning. I twisted one nipple
with my free hand and nearly screamed — my tits were so sensitive. Just rolling one
between my fingers made my pussy clamp around nothing.
I slid a finger inside.
It was like being hugged from the inside. Warm, tight, silky. My hips bucked. My breathing turned ragged.
"Fuckfuckfuck—"
I whimpered, curling the finger in a come-hither motion.
Then two fingers.
Then three.
I didn't stop.
I couldn't stop.
My hips were grinding into my own hand. My tits bounced freely as I writhed on the
sheets, lost in the overwhelming heat and wetness. My entire body felt like it
was begging to cum. I squeezed a
nipple hard and slammed my fingers deep
That's when the first orgasm hit.
It wasn't like cumming as a guy — it wasn't a shot, a release, a quick burst. It
was waves. Relentless, rolling,
full-body shockwaves. My toes curled, legs spasmed, fingers still working as
I cried out — loud, helpless, desperate.
But even after the climax… I didn't stop.
My body wanted more.
My clit was swollen now, pulsing with need. I leaned forward, spit on my hand, and
started rubbing again — hard, desperate circles. I humped the heel of my palm
like a bitch in heat. My tits swung freely with every motion, nipples red and
sore from being played with so much.
I was soaked. My thighs glistened. The sheets under me were wet.
And I didn't care.
I shoved two fingers back in and kept going — faster, deeper, messier. I moaned
like a pornstar, high-pitched and uncontrollable. I came again minutes later,
bucking hard, squirting slightly as my pussy clenched and convulsed around my
fingers.
It was so much.
Too much. And not enough.
I flipped onto my stomach, spread my legs wide, and rubbed my clit against the
mattress like a feral animal. I shoved one hand between my thighs and fingered
myself from behind, the angle making everything tighter, deeper. I squeezed my
ass with my other hand, watching it jiggle in the mirror.
My pussy made obscene sounds — wet squelches, loud and raw. I was drooling, my makeup smeared
from sweat and tears. My whole body was twitching from overstimulation, but I
didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
I rolled over again, spread my legs like a whore, and slapped my own pussy. It
was so sensitive now, clit fully engorged, every touch like electricity. I spit
on it, rubbed it raw, pushed fingers in and out faster and faster until my
knuckles hurt.
I came again. And again.
My whole body convulsed, my thighs clamped around my hand, and I screamed into a
pillow. I was a mess — flushed, soaked, broken by pleasure.
I kept fingering myself long after the orgasms ended. I had to. I needed to ride the
high, to squeeze out every drop of ecstasy this body could give me. I sucked on
my own tits, twisted my nipples, played with my clit, even humped a pillow.
Every time I came, my body shook harder.
Eventually, I passed out — face-down, legs still spread, fingers still buried in my
twitching cunt.
When I woke up, it was just past dawn.
I was back to normal — flat chest, rough hands, limp cock.
The sheets were a disaster. My whole room smelled like sex.
I sat up slowly, sore all over.
And smiled.
Because that night?
That was the best fucking orgasm of my life.