"You can't keep faking a headache, Katie. You're my wife. Period."
It's been more than a month since The Anomoly. As the weeks pass, Mr. Anderson has grown more agitated with me. The instant switch of 20% of the population to someone else's body is already problem enough. Within the confines of our small church community, it is an entirely other problem.
Some people point to recent UFO sightings, or an energy wave from space; but within our community — after all the confusion, disbelief and bargaining — there can only ever be one explanation: It's the Lord's will.
Since The Anomoly shifted people within proximity, I think now it would have been better to be in a mall the evening it happened. At least in a mall I wouldn't know the person I shifted into. Instead, I went to the evening service. It was a random that I was even back from college that weekend, and now thanks to it I am in Mrs. Anderson's 30-something body.
It's one thing to observe a young married couple sitting across the table during a potluck. It's another to be in the couple.
"You heard what the minister said this morning at church. This is divine intention. We have to play the role given to us. You're my wife now, for better or worse. I'm sure they told you the same thing at the New Ladies Sunday School class today. What did they say?"
"They told us to indulge in every fantasy we have. That it was worth trying. That is was our responsiblity to ourselves to try." The weight of responsibility bears down on my feminine shoulders. For better or worse, I suddenly find myself in my first serious relationship sitting on the edge of a marriage bed I am tied to.
He smiles. It's one thing to have Mr. Anderson teach my sunday school class and be one of the cool older people at church. Quite another to be pressured into being his wife until "death do us part." Quite another to have him demanding sex from me.
"But. . . "
"Katie. You heard the minister. Do you really want to face eternal consequences for not complying?"
He keeps calling me Katie. It's maddening. I'm Steve. The only problem is, I haven't been Steve for six weeks.
I sigh. "Okay. Okay, fine. But later tonight. After dinner." Maybe he will get tired. Or another Anomoly will happen and save me at the last second.
"No more wasting time. Now."
I thought I could wait this out.
I did everything I could. It's the end game now. The one I didn't want.
Mrs. Anderson's breasts are the first I've ever seen up close. My girlfriend and I were so obedient to teachings about marriage and family. I've only seen her in a bathing suit for crying out loud. I saw her the other day at church. I could see her from the choir platform — I'm 2nd in the soprano section.
My girlfriend was sitting in the back row with my old form, now possessed by Mrs. Anderson. His hand was on her knee. They looked close. Closer than we had allowed ourselves to be. From their body language I could tell they've been doing more than kissing. I shifted in my seat. I could feel a wet heat building in my panties thinking about it. My nipples pressed into my bra. I was thankful they wouldn't be detected through my choir robe.
I was still a virgin. And yet between my thighs I now possessed a pussy that had experience. It had been at least a year since the Anderson's honeymoon.
I had shaved the evening before in the bath. Having a cleanly shaven pussy tucked into your panties is one kind of heaven. I sang a solo that Sunday, my new soprano voice resonating through my body and into my clit. I came home and drew a Sunday bath and rubbed myself to orgasm over and over while caressing my breasts. I was married now, so pleasuring myself wasn't a sin.
I've taken advantage of it.
They're heavy without a bra.
I'm naked. I look down. Trying not to admire my bare breasts.
"Remember what the pastor said. This is joined let no man tear assunder. You're my wife now."
He lifts my chin up with a finger. I'm absolutely terrified.
"Katie. Take me in your mouth. Accept your new role. You're doing so well already — you already cook and keep the house much better than my wife. I don't see why it has to stop there. Let your old self die away. It will only get easier if you do."
Oh, god. Please change me back. Hurry.
"That's right. I'm already getting hard. Open wide and put me in your mouth. And watch your teeth.
My last seconds of my manhood tick by in slow motion. I'm about to cross a line.
Here goes nothing.
He moans. My lips are around him. Like a good, obedient wife.
I expect revulsion but nothing comes. I just have his dick between my lips. I try to keep my tongue away from it but there's no where for it to go. Already he's getting harder. For lack of a better place to put it, I cup it around the base of his shaft, feeling the underside of the head of his penis.
I suck in.
I used to have one of these. Thought I knew it wasn't sactioned by the church, I would play with myself. I realize with chagrin that I know every spot that is pleasurable — and I know what the result will be if I do well.
It's like having the barrel of a gun in my mouth — except it's Mr. Anderson's penis. Am I supposed to swallow if I'm his wife?
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it? Now pull it out and put it back in. Use your hand. Find a rhythm."
I can't believe I'm doing this. He keeps looking at me and smiling and moaning quietly to himself. I'm sucking Mr. Anderson's penis. And it keeps getting bigger. How much more will I have to widen my jaw?
"Your nipples look hard."
I take some kind of pleasure in his observation. Before this I could only feel like Steve on his knees. My mind is taken to the weight of my breasts in front of me. My nipples. I am a woman, at least.
And I'm getting wet.
I feel it seeping between my lips. Saturating my panties. Why am I getting wet? I don't like this, do I?
"Very good. You're doing so well. I've missed your lips. You're sucking my cock nicely."
His, Cock?
Butterflies build in my tummy. We aren't supposed to cuss are we? What would the pastor think? A small taste of salt joins the saliva in my mouth. I register what it is. His precum. He's enjoying this.
"Your tits look so fucking good."
Fuck. My tits? Is this how married people talk? So crudely? I thought you were supposed to be polite at all times to your significant other and honor them. Why does him saying that make me feel so funny?
Oh god. What's happening?
He's taking over.
"That's right, honey. Be a good girl and suck my cock. Just like that. Work it with your tongue and your lips."
Everything is going so fast. I hold on, focusing on my freshly manicured nails. Only a woman would have her nails done this way. I'm beginning to realize why he was so insistent I get them done last week. Oh no. Is he trying to condition me into becoming his wife?
If my girlfriend could only see me now. On my knees, Mr. Anderson holding my head while he thrusts his cock into my mouth. What if she's doing the same thing to my old form right now? Has she sucked Mrs. Anderson's cock??
I can only open wider to take him. "That's right, honey. Just like that. Suck your husband's cock."
Fuck. He's using me. He's fucking my mouth. The head of his cock hits deep in my mouth. I gasp for air. It's making my tits bob so pleasurably on my chest.
"Honey, I don't hear you moaning over my cock."
"Mmmf mmmf mmmf."
"There. Just listen to that sweet soprano voice of yours as your mouth is full of me. You like that don't you? Just wait until its your turn."
My turn?
What does he want now?
He looks really hard. I can't believe I had that cock in my mouth a few seconds ago, I can still feel it. I didn't mind all that much. We didn't have to stop but he seemed pretty insistant I lie down on the bed.
"Katie. Your panties are really wet. Did you enjoy that?"
I can only blush. Anticipation is building in my pussy despite my best of intentions. He tugs at my panties and pulls them from me.
"I'm scared, Mr. Anderson."
"It's Rick. I'm your husband. Not your Sunday School teacher."
I nod.
"Besides, I know my wife's pussy well. You have nothing to be afraid of. You'll see."
My thighs spread a little bit when he says this. My mind reels. What's happening to me?
Thank you for reading. For more hot transformation fiction see my detailed books on AMZ and Smashwords or get my give-what-you-want book Let Go on Gumroad.