Chapter 20: A Taste of Magic
The word hung in the air, a pact sealed in the chemical-scented dimness of the dorm room. Okay.
Chloe’s breath hitched, her fingers still resting on Tracy’s jaw. For a second, none of them moved. The frantic energy of the party, the shock of revelation, all condensed into this motionless point. Then Kaylee’s hands, still on Tracy’s shoulders, tightened. Her nails pressed lightly through the thin cotton of the blouse.
“Show her,” Kaylee whispered, her voice a hot current against Tracy’s ear. Her own excitement was a palpable vibration. “Show her what that magic cock can really do.”
The crude, possessive words broke the spell. Tracy flinched, but a corresponding heat ignited low in her belly. This was what she was now. A vehicle for change. A miracle, or a pandemic, wrapped in silk stockings.
Chloe’s eyes, wide and dark, dropped to Tracy’s lap. Her fingers trailed down from Tracy’s jaw, over the rapid flutter of a pulse in her neck, across the ruffled front of the barmaid apron. They hesitated at the waistband of the skirt. “Can I?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Tracy nodded, her throat too tight for speech.
The fabric rustled as Chloe lifted the black skirt. The cool room air washed over Tracy’s thighs, a shocking contrast to the heat gathering there. She was exposed, fully, to Chloe’s gaze. Her cock, already half-hard from the adrenaline and Kaylee’s earlier touch, lay against her stomach. The reality of it, in this messy, mundane room, felt more surreal than any wish.
“Jesus,” Chloe breathed, not with horror, but with the awe of someone examining a fascinating, dangerous artifact. She didn’t touch yet. She just looked, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “It’s huge. It's so… real. The skin, the veins. It’s not like a dildo at all.”
“It’s all me,” Tracy managed to say. The ‘me’ felt strange. Which ‘me’ was she even referring to?
Finally, Chloe’s hand moved. Her touch was feather-light at first, a single fingertip tracing the length from base to tip. A full-body shudder racked Tracy. It was clinical and intimate all at once. Chloe’s other hand came up, almost of its own accord, and pressed between her own thighs, rubbing absently at the spandex of her devil leotard.
“It’s warm,” Chloe observed, her scientific curiosity warring with a deepening blush. Her fingers closed, gently, around the shaft. She squeezed, testing the give. “And it gets hard. Like, really hard.”
Behind her, Kaylee made a soft, hungry sound. Her hands slid from Tracy’s shoulders, around to the front of the blouse. She popped a button, then another, her fingers slipping inside to cup Tracy’s breasts, thumbing the nipples into stiff peaks. “Tell her, Trace,” Kaylee murmured, her mouth against Tracy’s temple. “Tell her how it feels when you come.”
Tracy’s head tipped back against Kaylee’s shoulder. The dual sensation was overwhelming—Chloe’s tentative, exploring grip below, Kaylee’s knowing, possessive touch above. “It’s… a lot,” she gasped. “It’s not like before. It’s deeper. It’s like my whole body is involved.”
“And the cum?” Chloe’s question was blunt, her eyes fixed on where her hand worked Tracy slowly to full erection. Her own breathing was coming faster now, her self-stimulation through the leotard more purposeful. “That’s the… vector?”
“Yes,” Kaylee answered for her, her voice thick. “That’s what changed me. That’s what makes the wish stick.”
Chloe swallowed. Her grip firmed. She was no longer just examining; she was stroking now, a slow, unsure rhythm. “So if I… if I make you come. On me. Or in me.” She faltered, her bravado cracking to show the sheer, terrifying scale of the gamble beneath. “I’ll end up like you. Like Kaylee.”
Tracy opened her eyes, meeting Chloe’s. The fear was there, yes, but beneath it was a desire so potent it burned. Chloe had seen the sketchbook. She had imagined this. Now the impossible was in her hand. “Yes,” Tracy whispered. “You’ll change. Your body will… become this.”
“My hair?” Chloe’s question was oddly specific, a grasping for details in the freefall.
“Mine turned pink,” Kaylee said with a low laugh, nuzzling Tracy’s hair. “Yours might stay red. Might not. It’s part of the package. You get the equipment. You get the… aesthetic. It’s personalized.”
“Personalized,” Chloe repeated, dazed. Her stroking hand settled into a smoother rhythm, spurred by Kaylee’s words. Tracy bit back a moan. The mechanical action, driven by fear and curiosity, was becoming something else. Chloe’s thumb swiped over the tip, smearing a bead of pre-cum. She stared at the glossy fluid on her skin. “This is it? This is the stuff?”
“That’s the starter,” Kaylee whispered. “But you need the full dose. The commitment.
Chloe’s laugh was a sharp, nervous burst of air. “Commitment. That’s one way to put it.” Her hand on Tracy never stopped moving, her grip now confident, almost possessive. The slick pre-cum made her strokes smoother, a soft, wet sound punctuating the thick silence of the room. Her other hand pushed harder against herself, the spandex of the leotard straining.
She looked at Tracy’s face, at her parted lips and closed eyes, then at Kaylee’s triumphant expression over her shoulder. “You’re both really into this, aren’t you? Watching me talk myself into it.”
“You talked yourself into it the second you lifted that skirt,” Kaylee said, her voice a low hum against Tracy’s skin. Her fingers pinched a nipple gently, making Tracy gasp. “You’re already in, Chlo. You’re just negotiating the terms.”
“Fuck,” Chloe muttered, more to herself than to them. Her stroking became faster, purposeful. She leaned in, her face inches from Tracy’s. Her breath smelled of sweet gin and nervous sweat. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Do it. Let’s see.”
Tracy’s own building pleasure was a runaway train, fueled by Kaylee’s expert touch and the surreal, voyeuristic intensity of Chloe’s determination. She felt a tremor begin deep in her core, a tidal wave gathering force. “Chloe, I… I’m close.”
“I know,” Chloe whispered, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and wild excitement. “I can feel it.” With her free hand, she tugged at the crotch of her devil leotard, pulling the fabric aside. She didn’t position herself to take Tracy inside. Instead, she shifted forward, guiding Tracy’s throbbing tip against her own slickness, coating the head. “Here. Do it here.”
It was the point of no return. Tracy’s vision swam. The coiled tension in her abdomen snapped. A sound tore from her throat, part sob, part gasp, as the world narrowed to a single, blinding point of release.
The first pulse wasn’t subtle. It hit Chloe’s exposed skin with a warm, sudden wetness. Chloe gasped, her body jolting as if shocked. Her hand squeezed tighter, milking out the subsequent, thicker waves. The viscous fluid spilled over her fingers, onto the dark sheets beneath them.
The change wasn’t instantaneous. For three heartbeats, nothing happened. Chloe just stared, panting, at the mess on her hand and thigh, her expression one of pure, stunned astonishment.
Then she convulsed. A full-body shudder rolled through her, buckling her knees. She would have fallen if the bed wasn’t behind her. She collapsed onto it, a sharp cry escaping her lips that was neither pain nor pleasure, but raw, physiological surprise.
Her back arched off the mattress. Her fiery red hair seemed to deepen in hue, the strands twitching as if charged with static. A soft, pink glow emanated from her skin, subtle as the last light of a sunset. She clutched her stomach, eyes screwed shut.
“It’s starting,” Kaylee breathed, her hands leaving Tracy’s breasts to grip her shoulders, holding her upright as they both watched.
Chloe’s body tightened like a bowstring, her spine curving off the mattress in a strained arc. A low, guttural sound vibrated in her chest, something between a moan and a whimper. The air around her skin seemed to shimmer, carrying a scent like ozone and rain.
“Holy shit,” Kaylee whispered, her fingers digging into Tracy’s shoulders.
Chloe’s hands flew to her own hips, which began to shift and expand beneath the red spandex. The fabric strained with a soft, crinkling protest. Her waist nipped inwards as her pelvis widened, the bones making subtle, popping adjustments audible in the quiet room. Her already generous bust swelled further against the devil leotard’s front, the neckline growing taut.
“It… it doesn’t hurt,” Chloe gasped, her voice thick with disbelief. “It’s like… stretching. A really, really deep stretch.” Her hands slid from her hips to her stomach, which remained flat but now led down to the dramatic new flare of her hips.
Then her focus shifted lower. A visible pressure was forming beneath the ruined, sticky fabric of her leotard, a distinct and growing swell. Chloe’s breath hitched, her eyes wide with a frantic curiosity. She scrambled to shove the spandex down, her movements clumsy with urgency.
The new anatomy was already impressive, emerging fully formed and flushed. It lay against her lower abdomen, a mirror to Tracy’s own, twitching with the residual energy of its sudden appearance.
“Look at that,” Kaylee said, her voice full of warm, proprietary pride. She released Tracy and moved to sit on the bed beside Chloe. “It’s beautiful.”
Chloe was panting, her chest heaving. She stared, transfixed, at the part of herself that had not existed five minutes ago. Her hands hovered, afraid to touch. “I feel… heavy,” she murmured. “Different.” She finally grasped herself, her fingers wrapping around the base. A shudder racked her, and her head fell back against the pillow. “Oh, god. The nerves are… they’re everywhere.”
Tracy watched, rooted to the spot, her own body thrumming with post-release sensitivity and a dizzying wave of guilt. She had done this. Again. “Chloe, are you okay?”
Chloe’s head lolled to the side, her gaze finding Tracy. Her expression was a tumult of shock, fear, and a dawning, fierce joy. “Okay?” A wild, breathless laugh bubbled out of her. “I have a fucking dick, Tracy. Or I guess, Tracy had a dick, and now I have a dick.” She blinked, trying to process her own words. “This is so messed up.”
“But do you like it?” Kaylee pressed, her own body thrumming with vicarious excitement. She traced a finger along Chloe’s newly generous hip.
Chloe didn’t answer immediately. She looked down at her body, at the dramatic new curves, the foreign weight between her thighs. She took a deep, steadying breath that lifted her swollen chest. A slow, unsteady smile spread across her face, erasing the last traces of fear.
“Yeah,” she said, the word soft with wonder. She flexed her hand around her new cock, her breath catching. “Yeah, I think I really, really do.” She looked from her own body to Kaylee’s, then to Tracy’s. A giddy realization lit her eyes. “We match.”