His Fondest Desire

“James Roderick, rise and face the court.”

Moving slowly, the man in prison denim rose, the chains on his cuffs clanking. A tall, well built man, he stood facing the judge.

“James Roderick, you stand before us today accused of multiple counts of rape. Before I pronounce my verdict, do you have anything to say?”

The prisoner smirked. “I say to hell with you. I didn’t do anything to any woman that she didn’t secretly want. All women are sluts. They’ll take sex any time, any place, and any way it’s offered. I just happen to be man enough to give them what they really want. So judge me and be damned.”

The judge winced slightly at the man’s choice of words. “I could very easily add a contempt charge for your language,” he said, “but I won’t. Instead, I’ll make this simple.

“James Roderick, on multiple charges of rape, you have been found guilty by a court of your peers. Normally, such a verdict would mean a lengthy prison sentence. However, due to the current overcrowded conditions in our prisons, your sentence has been changed. The court thereby orders that you be returned to society, there to become that which you desire.”

Stunned, James simply stared at the judge. Released? He couldn’t believe it. How could he be so lucky?

“Hold out your hands.” Expectantly, James thrust his hands out before him, ready to have his cuffs unlocked. Instead, a burly bailiff grabbed the connecting chain, holding his arms stretched, while a second rolled up his left sleeve.

“What are you doing?” James demanded. He was totally ignored. While the first bailiff held the chain, the second plunged a needle into James’ arm, slowly pushing the plunger to empty the contents of the rather large syringe into his veins. This done, he was led to the courthouse door, where the cuffs were removed. Without a word, the bailiff handed him an envelope containing his personal effects, then shoved him out the door, which then closed firmly behind him.

Squinting, he looked around him. It had been months since he’d last seen open sunlight. He thought back on his arrest, the trial that seemed to last forever. There’d been a seemingly endless parade of witnesses, women coming forward to testify as to his “crimes” against them. As if they hadn’t wanted it all along, he thought scornfully. Now, after all that, he was back on the streets. It didn’t make much sense, but he wasn’t about to argue. He just wanted to get home.

Home, for James, was a large, rather isolated house on the edge of a small nearby town. He had inherited it from his parents, along with enough money that he didn’t have to work. No job meant he could sleep through the day, resting up for his nightly excursions, something he meant to return to without delay.

For now, though, he felt tired, and it was good to walk back through his own front door, a free man. He took a long, hot shower, then, still feeling tired, decided it was time for a nap. After all, this would be his first night back on the streets, and he wanted to be well rested.

James tumbled into his bed, still dressed, and quickly fell asleep. His dreams were strange, amorphous things. Half defined images floated at the edges of his awareness, and no matter how he tried, he could bring none of them into focus. He awoke feeling strangely troubled.

Though his clock showed he’d slept for several hours, James still felt tired and listless. He also felt ravenously hungry. Reluctantly, he decided to postpone his return to the streets until the next night. This decided, he set his sights on eating something that a jailhouse cook hadn’t ruined.

A talented cook, James spoiled himself with a steak dinner, then astonished himself by rapidly devouring the entire meal. He’d deliberately fixed more than he could ever eat, just for the pleasure of throwing real food away. Instead, he’d eaten the whole meal, then went back looking for more, finally settling for a couple of thick ham sandwiches. His hunger finally sated, he staggered back to bed, where he slept the night through.

For the next several days, this seemed to be the pattern of his life. Wake, eat a huge meal, then back to bed for a few more hours sleep. He began to worry about getting fat, and, indeed, he did seem to be picking up a little extra heft to his hips. His shirt began to feel tighter in the chest, as well. He soon took to going shirtless, and when his pants got too tight at the waist, he changed to sweats, promising himself he’d work out to get rid of the extra pounds as soon as he got his energy back.

Finally, after nearly a week, he woke one morning feeling a bit stronger than he had so far. Encouraged, he decided to take a long, hot shower, then get on with his day. Maybe tonight he could get back to his favorite hobby.

In the shower, he grabbed one of his favorite washrags, a slightly rough cloth he preferred to use. But when he ran it across his chest, he winced. A little prodding with his fingers told him it was his nipples that were very sensitive, and he noticed a slight swelling around each of them. Shrugging, he wondered if he’d have to get used to real soap again after the cheap junk the jail used. Still, it was minor, nothing to put him off his plans for the evening. Finishing his shower, he set about putting his house to rights after nearly a week of inactivity.

As evening arrived, however, he felt the old tiredness returning. Probably did too much today, he thought. He had, after all, had nearly a week’s worth of dirty dishes and laundry to take care of. A good night’s sleep, and he’d be ready for tomorrow night. For tonight, he would let his imagination entertain him.

Later, as he pleasured himself, James noticed something. Was it his imagination, he asked himself, or was his cock a little smaller than usual? Not that he’d had much use for it lately, but he seemed to recall it being just a bit bigger. Probably just his imagination, the thought, bringing himself to climax, then cleaning off and rolling over to sleep.

Next morning, the swelling in his chest was a bit more pronounced, the nipples even more sensitive. Probably a rash from his jail time, he decided. He had to get groceries today anyway; he’d just drop in at the drug store and see if he could find something for it.

The trip to the store was anything but pleasant, and James was glad to be back home. Being a small town, it seemed everyone knew what he’d been convicted of. They also knew that he’d been released immediately after his conviction. Most weren’t too happy with this, and they made no effort to hide their feelings. A couple of the bolder men had gone so far as to threaten him, telling him what they’d do if they saw him anywhere near their female friends or family. All in all, it was a trip he had no desire to repeat any time soon.

With this in mind, he’d stocked up, buying as much food as his car would carry. He was exhausted by the time he had everything carried in and put away. Wearily, he took the single bag he’d purchased at the drug store and headed for the bathroom.

Stripping off his shirt, he examined himself in the mirror. The swelling seemed to have grown worse, a slight bulge now plainly visible around each nipple. The nipples themselves seemed swollen, too. Both areas were also very sensitive. Touching either one wasn’t painful, but he was extremely aware of even the slightest pressure.

As he examined himself, James noticed that his chest hair seemed to be growing a bit thinner, with more skin visible through the formerly thick cover. Lower down, his waist seemed to have become slightly smaller, as if he were losing weight in spite of the huge meals he was still eating. Deciding a complete examination was in order, he quickly stripped off his sweats, then looked at himself in the mirror.

His waist was getting smaller, he decided. Or maybe it was his hips getting wider. A little bit of both, he thought. His legs looked thinner too, less muscular, and here too, there was less hair visible. Turning, he stared at his ass. It, too, was changed, being slightly larger and more rounded. James had no idea what was going on, but he knew he didn’t like it.

As the days continued to pass, the changes became more pronounced. Checking the mirror daily, James could see his legs getting slimmer, his waist smaller, hips wider. His ass slowly became fuller, more rounded. His body hair had all but vanished. In contrast, the hair on his head had grown thick and luxuriant, showing several lighter streaks in the normally dark brown he was used to.

By the end of the third week, the changes were unmistakable. His legs, formerly muscular, were now slender and shapely, leading up to full, firm thighs. His wider hips supported a firm, full ass. His waist was tapered, swelling slightly toward his chest.

His chest was the worst part. The swellings around his nipples had continued to grow, and now there was no denying the truth. He was growing breasts. They seemed to be growing quicker every day. Already, he had what looked to be A cups. And the nipples themselves had grown more sensitive, until even a cool breeze could make them stiffen.

It was the shot, he told himself. The shot they’d given him at the courthouse was doing this to him. What were they trying to do to him? If they wanted to turn him into a woman, they were missing something. His cock was just the same as always. Wasn’t it?

Worried, he examined himself, but he couldn’t be sure. Of course, he was soft, so his true size wasn’t readily apparent. Grasping himself, he began to stroke and fondle, working toward an erection.

Normally, he could get an erection with just a thought. Today, though, his cock seemed to be taking forever to harden. Closing his eyes, he summoned up the most lurid images he could, hoping to coax his cock into full hardness. As his left hand worked almost frantically on his cock, his right hand drifted across his upper body. Almost without realizing it, he began fondling one of his small breasts, then lightly pinched the nipple.

His knees nearly buckled at the strength of the sensation that coursed through him. His cock seemed to leap to full extension. Almost immediately, he came, a violent orgasm that left the mirror splattered with his semen. Before he could even catch his breath, his cock had shrunk back down, giving him no chance to examine it at full erection.

Puzzled, more than a little frightened now, he reached up and pinched his nipple a second time. Again, his knees nearly buckled at the sensation, but this time, his cock barely twitched. Probably totally spent from that first blast, he thought, bracing himself against the sink. As he stared into the mirror, he saw a face that was no longer his, yet, somehow, familiar.

That night, his dreams, still shapeless, amorphous things, somehow took on a sharper quality. The visions were still indistinct, unidentifiable, yet there was a definite sexual quality. He awoke more aroused than he could ever remember feeling. Almost instinctively, he reached between his thighs, then froze as his fingers encountered, not his cock, but a soft, furry, distinctly feminine mound.

With a cry, he leaped to his feet, staggering as something shifted on his chest. He rushed into the bathroom, freezing at the sight that greeted him in his mirror. James, Roderick, it seemed, was gone. In his place stood something he could only have dreamed of seeing.

He had almost gotten used to the long, slender legs, the softly flaring thighs, the wide hips and narrow waist. The mound between those thighs, however, was a sight he’d never witnessed; had, indeed, prayed without hope that he never would. Tentatively, he stroked one finger across that mound, his other hand bracing himself against the sink as a surge of pleasure threatened to drop him to the floor. As he struggled to stand, his eyes rose to his chest.

No A cups now, he thought, staring at a pair of breasts that had to be at least D, maybe more. Very large, yet very firm, standing out proudly from his chest with no hint of sag. His hand rose toward one of those mounds, hesitated, then dropped. Finally, his eyes rose the final distance.

The face that gazed back at him was one of a somehow unique beauty. Somehow, it almost seemed as if the different aspects of this new face didn’t belong together, yet they joined to form an image he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. Somehow, he had become the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, or even dreamed of seeing.

Suddenly, his knees buckled slightly, and he realized that his hand had, unbidden, returned to between his thighs. As the waves of pleasure swept through him, he staggered back to his room and threw himself onto his bed. Rolling onto his back, he thrust a finger deep within himself, where it was soon joined by a second. As those fingers began thrusting into him, his other hand began stroking, then lightly pinching his nipples, which quickly hardened under the attention. Quickly, he felt something grow within him, something that soon burst, leaving him laying limp from the near overdose of pleasure.

Even as the pleasure began, slowly, to fade, James heard a sound. His eyes opened just as hands grabbed his arms, throwing him onto his stomach. He felt steel on his wrists, heard the clicking as the cuffs ratcheted shut. A bag was drawn over his head, cutting off all sight. He felt himself lifted, wrapped in something, then carried he knew not where.

When the bag was pulled from his head, James found himself standing before a desk in a smallish office. Behind the desk sat the judge who had sentenced him. James glanced down to find himself covered by a thick robe, the sash tied securely. Returning his gaze to the judge, he let his anger vent.

“What have you done to me?” he demanded, startled by the soft, husky voice that sounded seductive even to his own ears. The judge smiled.

“Exactly what you were told,” the judge replied. “You have become exactly that which you most desire.”

“A woman?” James tried for a scornful tone, but his new voice turned it into something that sounded more like an invitation.

“Not just a woman,” he heard the judge say. “A beautiful woman, who embodies all the traits you yourself used to define what a woman is.”

For a moment, James stared silently. Then, as if afraid of the answer, he said, “You mean……?”

“You,” the judge declared, “are now the very definition of a slut. You will find yourself unable to refuse any offer of sex, from anyone. Sex now drives you. Your desire for it, your need. And, to be honest, the pleasure you will derive from it. Pleasure, I am told, that will be considerable”.

“You can’t,” James whispered desperately, even as he found himself examining the judge in a new light. Not bad looking, he heard his mind comment, somehow not surprise to find himself wondering how big the judge’s cock was, and how it would feel buried between his thighs.

“Actually,” the judge said, interrupting those thoughts, “I can. Officially, you are now Jamie Roderick. We tried to keep your given name as close to the original as we could. All former assets of James Roderick are now under your new name. Your house, your money, all still yours.”

“What happens now?”

The judge shrugged. “Not my concern,” he said. “As far as the court, and I, are concerned, sentence has been carried out. An officer outside will escort you back to your home. This officer goes off duty shortly, so I’ve no doubt he can help you, shall we say, get that new life off to a good start.” With a wave, the judge dismissed him.

Outside the office, James appraised his escort as the man removed his cuffs. Strong looking, he thought, a bit husky, not bad at all. As they walked together down the hall, one of James’ hands dropped to fondle at the officer’s crotch. Feeling the bulge beginning to swell within the officer’s trousers, James, now Jamie, found that he, now she, hoped it would be a short trip.

I will get my body back, she swore quietly to herself. I will get my life back. Then, as one of the officer’s hands slipped within the folds of the robe covering her, softly stroking the now moist mound between her thighs, Jamie Roderick forgot all such thoughts, her mind now focused totally on the one thing that mattered to her.

26.08.13