From Doe to Fawn

78

From Doe to Fawn

by Jordan Bailey

This ebook is for 18+ adults ONLY. It contains explicit, graphic details of sexual acts and language that may be considered offensive by some readers.

All characters engaged in sexual activity are consenting, non-related adults over the age of 18.

Copyright © 2022 author Jordan Bailey. All rights reserved.

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Cheers,

Jordan :3

I.

I awoke face down in my bed. My mouth was dry, my tongue was hanging out of my head, my cheek in a pool of my own saliva and my mind a confused mess.

Where was I? Why was I so cold?

With a groggy haze I stirred, noticing the morning rays of sunlight beaming in from the cracks in the blinds. I was in my room. That solves that. But... why was I laying upside down? My feet where my pillows go and face at the foot of the bed? I tried to lick my lips and wet my mouth, but both were cracked and dry. I tried to move but nothing seemed to work and my body was canted in some bizarre pose. I was face first into my sheets but my lower half was propped up on my knees, with my butt in the air. What the hell?

I licked my lips again, finally able to produce enough saliva. And as I did I immediately tasted the sweet, musky flavor of semen. Then the realization hit and my eyes shot open!

Oh my God! Last night! Veronica!

I thought it was all a dream... Dressing up like a girl, Veronica catching me, then sucking her cock and getting fucked in the ass. It had to be impossible, right? There was no way I had had a night of hot, torrid sex with my beautiful amazonian neighbor!

There had to be some sort of explanation. There was no way my dreams had become real. I assumed that my mind was playing some sort of trick on me, that maybe I was drugged or drank too much and passed out... then I tasted my lips again. Whilst one side of my face was soaked in saliva that had pooled in my sleep, the rest of my face and chin were caked in dried cum! Presumably Veronica's cum!

Holy shit. It wasn't a dream at all. It was real.

Once again I tried to move and with marginal success I flopped to one side. Had I been sleeping all night like this? With my ass in the air?

The answer was apparently yes. But a second later, I would no longer care. Because then a sharp and intense pain shot through my body. It felt like I had been split in two, ass first. Thankfully my face was still buried in my bed so when I yelped, it was muffled.

I gripped my backside, feeling and probing the way one might check for injuries after an accident. My fingers carefully navigated the crevice, and when they found my swollen hole, I squeaked again. Like tampering with an open wound, the sensitive flesh sent shivers through my body.

My legs trembled. I gasped then shuddered. My asshole was still slightly agape, and the rim raw and tender. I tried to tighten it, to close it, but to little avail, only sending more tinges of pain through my body. Rolling again, I winced through the agony and made it to my feet, but as soon as I put weight on them – THUD!

I hit the ground hard. Immediately toppling over as my knees were apparently jelly. A moment later I heard my dad, still probably getting ready for work, call from downstairs-

You okay, son?

Ow, shit! I huffed. I grabbed for anything I could find, blankets to cover me or something solid to brace. I had to think fast. And just then then I saw what I was wearing, and my panic doubled.

There, on the floor, staring back at me in the mirror, was me. But now clad in thong panties, sheer fingerless gloves, and black stockings. My hair was a complete mess and my face was a smeared, embarrassing display of slutty makeup. There was no way I could be seen like this. I had to do or say something!

Y-Yeah dad! Just tripped!

There was a pause. I could see him in my minds eye, gears in his head turning, wondering if I should be believed or if the early morning crash should be investigated.

Alright. Hurry up or you'll be late for school!

Whew. He bought it. But holy fuck, school? How could I possibly go through an entire day like this? Let alone school. I could hardly walk, I was dressed like a girl, and couldn't move without sharp pain shooting through my body!

Trying to shamble to my feet, I began thinking of any excuse I could, not only to tell my dad, but for any and all who I may encounter. Any athletics related injury was out, I was a loser and everyone knew it, and even more knew I didn't play any sports. I could feign sickness but I wasn't very good at lying or keeping up charades. Damn. I might just have to bite the bullet.

Using my desk chair, then my bed as a crutch, I hobbled to my bathroom, bow legged. When I flipped on the light I gasped aloud. Standing in the mirror wasn't me, but a girl, a slutty, lingerie clad whore who looked liked she'd been fucked ragged all night. My make-up was smeared, my nylon stockings were torn and shredded. I had bite marks and lip stick slathered all over my tits, chest and neck. My hair was a wreck.

Holy hell... what did Veronica do to me last night!?

I took a deep breath, shutting my mirror image out of my mind. Okay, get it together Bobbi, I said to myself. You can worry about all that later. Toilet... and then shower.

Did I just call myself Bobbi? In my own head? Oh jeez. Rob. My name is Rob. Get it straight! Focus, focus, focus.

I'll spare you the details on how much cum came pouring out of me when I sat on the toilet, and instead skip to my quick and shoddy, blistering hot shower. I don't always like the it so hot, but I quickly found that no amount of soap and normal temperature water would scrub away the smeared make up, patches of lipstick, and near-bruises all over my body. The water felt amazing though, and it felt good on my incredibly sore ass. When I was done it appeared my hole was regaining some of its flexibility, and I was able to walk, somewhat competently, about my room to get dressed.

I was short on time, so I just grabbed the nearest boy clothes I could find, clean or not, and tossed them on. I took one last look in the mirror before I left and was surprised at yet another transformation. From a short haired girl wearing panties and stockings, to a petite boy with messy hair and baggy clothes. I was Rob again. At least for now.

Snatching my book bag, I shuffled downstairs as quickly as I could. Dad was just heading out the door as I finished the stairs.

There he is. My son the klutz, he said. I'll see you later. And hey, he stopped, pausing at the door and quickly petrifying me with fear. He looked back