Girl Pox: Sleazy Slutty Sleepwalker--Chapter Two (TFTG, GIRL POX:: SLEAZY SLnon-futa)

Story by Hardcover

GIRL POX::

SLEAZY SLUTTY SLEEPWALKER—

CHAPTER TWO

BY HARDCOVER

I dreamt that I was in a huge pink room, naked on the floor. The room was empty, and I was the only one in there. Suddenly, the ceiling split down the center, opening towards me like the doors from some kind of loading dock. As it swung ajar, thousands of articles of women’s clothing, dresses, skirts, underwear, you name it, came falling from above. Tons of it fell onto me and I struggled to push them away. There were too many of them coming in and endless deluge and I was being buried alive in sexy clothes and lingerie.

I woke up back in Krystal and Melody’s bedroom. Somehow, they had both carried me in there without waking up the guys. As my eyes opened and the haze began to lift from my brain, I tried to think, once more, where I was. I was back in the girl’s room for some reason. I groggily tried to remember how I’d gotten there; all I could remember was some weird dream where I turned into a girl and then about drowning in underwear. Maybe it was just that I didn’t want to face what had happened to me, but I was sure upon waking that the transformation had been just a dream. Yeah, I know, grasping at straws, but can you really blame me?

I groaned a little sort of like a zombie and pushed myself up on my elbows. I wished I could just rise up off the bed like Nosferatu out of his coffin, but that wasn’t gonna happen. I felt like I had a hangover, but I didn’t feel sick. Like earlier, I felt like something was wrong but it wasn’t my location. I mean, well, it sort of was my location, I was back in the girl’s room again instead the where I’d gone to sleep at, but it was something more then that. I felt all wrong and different somehow. Moving was weird as my body felt like it was lighter in some way. I felt a tickling sensation around my neck and shoulders, something soft and silky brushing over my skin there. My chest felt heavy and I wondered if I was coming down with pneumonia.

Looking to the side, I saw Melody pulling clothes out of one of her suitcases. She was dressed in a skimpy black tube dress and bending over like that I could see the thong underwear she was wearing. She turned back and noticed me looking at her.

“Krystal, she’s awake.” She said.

Krystal came into view and they both came to the front of the bed and stared down at me, their expressions serious. Krystal was wearing a black leather micro dress that fastened at a color around her neck and left her shoulders and back bare. She was obviously not wearing a bra underneath. I felt tingles of arousal all through my crotch as I looked at them both, but I didn’t seem to be getting an erection. I thought that might have been from the fact that they way they were looking at me was giving me the creeps.

With a concerned expression, Krystal asked me, “D-Dan? How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been sleeping for a year.” I answered and then clapped my hands over my mouth when I heard my voice.

It was not the one I remembered; it was high and soft and very . . . feminine. It certainly wasn’t my voice.

“What the hell?” I groaned in my sexy new voice, “What’s wrong with my voice?”

The two girls looked at each other uncomfortably, which only added to my disquiet. I suddenly realized that I could see the entire room clearly, nothing was out of focus and nothing was hazy or blurred. And I wasn’t wearing my glasses. That didn’t make any sense, how could my vision change so much without warning. Wait a minute . . . change . . .

And then it all came flooding back to me: Waking up in the living room, the strange pleasure, my changing body . . . OH MY GOD! I looked down and was instantly sorry I had: There, pressing out from underneath my shirt, were the unmistakable bulges of the breasts, the nipples clearly pushing through the material. In desperation, I touched them hoping they were fake and this was some kind of joke. Instantly I felt an electric jolt of pleasure that shot through me at the contact. They were real. The breasts were real; my breasts. I looked at my hand and saw that it was dainty and petite, my now thin arm completely devoid of hair and slender.

I leapt to my feet, staggeri

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