.A small continuation as part of revisiting some old stuff, lol .
If you like my art, sketches, stories, transformations you can find more like this on my Patreon page or in DeviatArt Premium Early Access folder for subscribers here. Every bit of support is truly appreciated, but just having you here means the most to me - without you, none of this would have been possible. Thank you very much!
Check also my shop at DeviantArt for other works
— What the hell! What the fuck was that?! — Charlie shouted, not hiding his irritation, pacing back and forth across the unfamiliar apartment, sometimes bumping his hip against the edge of the couch, sometimes lifting the hem of his nightgown so he wouldn’t step on it with his bare feet. His new high-pitched voice rang with anger, but in that sharpness there was still something sweet, soft, that didn’t fit at all with how he used to look.
He stopped in front of a large mirror in the hallway. A blonde with perfectly styled hair stared back at him, wearing a thin silk robe that revealed smooth knees. Charlie clenched his teeth, unable to tear his eyes away from those plump lips.
— This… this is a fucking nightmare… — he muttered under his breath. — I need to get the hell home.
Nervously stepping toward where he had just thrown his phone, Charlie bent down to pick it up. The thin fabric of the nightgown slid slightly off his shoulder, and his long hair fell forward, tickling his neck. He automatically tossed it back over his shoulder and caught himself doing it so smoothly, like he’d been fixing his hair that way his whole life.
The phone lay face down. When Charlie picked it up, his new manicure lightly scraped against the smooth plastic casing, almost making it slip out of his hands. With irritation, he gripped the device tighter, unlocked the screen, and opened Google Maps.
— Damn nails! — he growled, trying to zoom in, and finally managed to get the map to expand across the whole screen with a shaky gesture. His eyes fell on the blinking blue dot, and Charlie pressed his lips together. He was somewhere in an industrial zone on the outskirts, surrounded by crooked alleys and gray warehouses.
— Looks like I can’t get home without a cab, damn that bitch! I’ll bury her alive! — Charlie jabbed his finger at the screen, opening the taxi app.
Fingers with long shiny nails slid across the sensor, and he furiously noticed that with every tap, the phone trembled slightly in his hands. He entered the destination address, hit “Confirm”… and froze.
On the screen, it flashed: “Destination matches pickup location: 791 Sapphire Street, The Hole, Brooklyn, NY.”
— What the… — Charlie blinked, reread it, and felt a chill run down his spine.
He didn’t even remember that address, but now, looking at it, he felt a strange certainty that this was his home — and his heart clenched unpleasantly.
— Fuck this! I’m walking! — he exhaled, tossing the phone onto the couch so it sank softly into the pillows.
Charlie spun around sharply and, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug, stepped into the bedroom. The room was bathed in soft morning light, making everything seem… cozy. Too cozy for him. A wide bed, snow-white pillows, a vanity table by the window with a mirror — and in it, he once again accidentally caught his own reflected gaze.
— Shit… — he growled, yet his eyes still slid down — to the deep neckline of the robe, to the soft curves of the breasts barely held in place by the thin fabric. Charlie swallowed nervously and turned away.
He clenched his teeth so hard that a pulse throbbed in his temples.
He couldn’t go out like this. Especially not in a neighborhood where narrow alleys and dark corners crawled with guys who hadn’t remembered what the law was in a long time. Even he, just yesterday a big, burly man, would’ve thought twice before showing himself here. And now… now he looked like a sweet blonde in a nightgown, barefoot, with hair falling in soft waves over his shoulders.
Charlie exhaled deeply, feeling his heart beating too fast, as if his body was reacting not just to anger but to the anxiety that someone might see him like this. His eyes darted around the room, searching for something that could at least partially cover this tempting attire.
By the wardrobe, he yanked a door open at random and immediately spotted a long, dark-blue coat. Soft cashmere, tailored fit, neat large buttons. He grabbed it, threw it over his shoulders… and instantly felt the smooth lining caress the bare skin of his arms and back. The fabric wrapped around him, highlighting his slim waist.
— Fuck… — he breathed out, fastening the buttons. The motion pressed his breasts slightly against the coat, and he felt how the fabric gently gave way under the curves he should never have had.
— Alright, good enough. Let’s go, Charlie, time to deal with that bitch!
But just as he reached the doorway, his gaze dropped down — and he froze.
— Fuck… — he breathed out, realizing he was standing barefoot on the cold floor, with nothing under the coat but that same thin nightgown.
He darted back into the bedroom, yanked open the wardrobe door, and saw neatly lined-up women’s shoes and boots. His legs moved on their own toward a pair of black ankle boots with sturdy heels and soft fur inside. He grabbed them, sat on the bed, and started pulling them on — only to run into a new problem: the narrow opening and his new long nails. He had to slip his foot in carefully, like a woman would, tugging at the top of the boot. When he finally zipped it up, he felt the heel lift him slightly, shifting his center of gravity.
— Well, isn’t this just fucking great… — he muttered, taking a couple of test steps. His body instinctively arched a little, his hips moving softer than he wanted, and from under the coat slipped a drop of elegance that made something inside him tighten.
Clicking the lock, he pushed the door open and stepped into the shared hallway. The air was cool, smelling of dust and… cabbage.
— Oh, Goldie! — a sharp voice called from the side.
Charlie flinched and turned. From the neighboring apartment, holding the door, peered an old lady in a colorful robe with curlers in her hair. Her face was deeply wrinkled, but her eyes were full of obvious disapproval.
— That big guy of yours came over again last night, stomping around the whole damn building! — she started, hands on her hips. — You think I don’t hear the way you two shake the walls? I’ve got a heart, you know!
Charlie was about to snap back, but the moment their eyes met, something inside him softly clicked. His lips spread into a guilty smile, his shoulders lowered, and he quietly said:
— Oh, Mrs. Brown, I’m so sorry… he just missed me so much… I’ll try to keep it down.
— You better, you better… — the old woman grumbled, giving him a look from head to toe. — And button up that coat properly, your tits are on full display. I bet your husband’s the jealous type, and I don’t want to hear a fight breaking out in there.
Charlie felt his face flush hot and instinctively pulled the coat tighter, covering the deep neckline.
— Yeah… yes, of course… — he breathed, softer now.
The old woman clicked her tongue once more and disappeared behind her door.
Charlie stayed standing in the hallway, feeling his heart beat faster — and it wasn’t just from anger. There was something in that strange, submissive tone of his that felt warm… too warm, and even guilty. He shook his head, shaking off the spell, and headed toward the stairs, the heels of his boots clicking sharply against the tiles while the coat hugged his waist snugly.