First Person
(Talisman, part IX)
 
by D. Monster
 
 
 
To say that I don’t normally do these sorts of things would be an understatement.
 
Taking a vacation, yes.
 
Taking a vacation in Las Vegas, I don’t think so.
 
Taking a vacation in Las Vegas to see a woman I’d met online, most certainly not.
 
Doing all this because she promised to make my every dream come true....
 
Well golly.
 
I adjusted my necktie for the twelfth time since I sat down and checked my watch for the eighth.  The waitress arrived with my drink and refused payment with a smile – my tab was being taken care of.  I wasn’t sure whether this reassured me or just made me more nervous.  My eye followed the soft line of her buttocks as she turned to leave.  I caught a glimpse of the club’s stage in the distance and of the magic show that was currently playing out there.  Under normal circumstances, I would have insisted on being front row center rather than in a distant private booth, but these were certainly not normal circumstances.
 
She (the woman I was waiting for, that is) had contacted me first by e-mail, telling me how much she liked my stories.  I primarily write stories to amuse and titillate myself, so it’s always a little surprising and more than a little flattering when someone else, especially someone claiming to be female, compliments my stories and admits similar interests.  Then she claimed to have done some of the sort of things that I had written about.  This surprised me, as my interests and, as such, the content of my stories run toward such topics as real magic, inanimate transformations, shrinking, and gender switches.  These were things that I’d always fantasized about, but they’d always remained abstract fantasies which reality forced me to play out in my stories.  And yet she insisted that they could indeed happen.
 
I thought she was a crackpot.
 
But if she was, she was an imaginative one.  She spun stories for me which I found incredibly compelling, introducing me to concepts I had never considered before and found highly erotic, some so much so that I had to incorporate them into the stories that I wrote.
 
Then one day, not too long ago, she told me that she could make all my dreams come true.  We should meet.
 
I was flabbergasted.  In some ways I knew this woman better than any other person I’d ever known.  But in others…well heck...I wasn’t even sure she was actually a woman.  I politely declined her offer, citing real life commitments.
 
Then she sent me a photo.  The photo was of a beautiful Asian woman.  My heart stopped.  If this was her….
 
Then, as if she sensed my hesitation, she sent me a telephone number.  Heart racing, I dialed.
 
She answered.  I think her voice was about the most beautiful thing that I had ever heard.  By the time we had spoken four complete sentences, I knew it was she that I had been corresponding with for these last several months.  I agreed to meet her.  I even told her my real name.
 
“Ron?”
 
I looked up from my reverie, unaware of how long I had been lost in my thoughts.
 
My breath caught.
 
The woman from the photograph stood before me.  She was even prettier in person, her liquid black hair pouring over her bare shoulders.  The white dress she wore was very short and very tight and strapless.  She wore long white gloves that matched the dress and perfectly offset her tan skin. 
 
“Hi,” I said, scarcely able even to manage that single syllable.
 
She held out her hand.  “I’m Clea.”
 
*          *          *

I slid around the table to the back of the booth and she sat next to me.  The next several minutes were sort of blur for me.  She asked about my flight and whether I’d been waiting long.  I complimented her on her dress and then she leaned over and kissed me on the lips.  The blur focused into a crystal-clear moment.
 
“For the stories,” she said.
 
“So…” I said, still reeling from the kiss and wondering how to get to the reason why we had both come here.  Make my dreams come true, I thought.  But somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to say that.
 
“We’re waiting for someone else,” she said, peering out the door of the booth.
 
“Anyone in particular?”  I asked lamely, my ardor somewhat suppressed by the prospect of a boyfriend or husband joining the group.
 
“Just a friend,” she said.  “Someone who has some first-hand experience in the sort of stuff we’re going to be doing together.”
 
The designation “she” eased my mind a little.  “Do you think that she’ll be much longer?”
 
“Oh, likely not.  She’s the reason that we’re here and not somewhere else.  She should be along any time…well, hello!”
 
Another woman had entered the booth and was currently giving Clea a hug.  I recognized her.  A sweater and jeans had replaced the high-cut bodysuit that she’d been wearing not too long before, but it was the waitress who had served me the drink that still sat half-finished in front of me on the table.
 
“Ron,” said Clea.  “Meet Nina.”
 
*          *          *
 
I’d always thought of myself of a bright but otherwise average guy with average propects, so finding myself sitting between these two exotic beauties discussing topics that were near and dear to my libido was very nearly the Dream Come True that Clea and I had discussed.  Little did I realize how far I had yet to go.
 
“So Nina,” I said, after pleasantries had been exchanged.  “You like magic?”
 
She leaned forward and passion sparked in her eyes.  “I used to be a box jumper but then I met Clea and her friends and WOW!”  She frowned.  “Afterwards, I wanted more…real magic was all I could think about.   But Clea said that I should be quiet and patient and that she would find a way for me to do it some more.  Since then all I’ve really been able to do is read stories about it.”
 
“Ron writes stories,” said Clea.
 
“Which ones?”
 
“Do you know the Amulet series?”
 
Nina’s eyes went wide.  “That was you?  Oh my God, you don’t know how many times I got off to your stories!”
 
Nina certainly wasn’t shy.
 
I was, though, and my ears must have turned bright red because both women giggled.
 
“Of course then,” Nina continued, “Clea called me up and said that she’d found some magic for us.  I couldn’t stop masturbating all week.”
 
Nina was about as far from shy as a person could get, I imagined.
 
“So is it time?”  she asked, asking the question that I had been trying unsuccessfully to frame since Clea had walked into the booth.
 
In response, Clea rummaged in her purse and pulled out what looked like a choker necklace.  Nina giggled delightedly and took it from her.  “Is this it?”
 
“Yup,” said Clea.  “Go ahead and put it on.”
 
Nina did so as Clea reached around to close the door to the booth, making our doings truly private.
 
Clea turned to me.
 
“Everything that you write about can be real and will be real.  And if you’d like proof, here it is.”  She closed her eyes.
 
Nina moaned.  As I watched, an emerald green mist began to rise up around her and from the collar of her sweater.  As I watched, spellbound, her head began to slowly disappear through the neck of her sweater while more green vapor billowed out and rose to the ceiling.  When the top of her head had disappeared into her sweater, her clothing began to collapse.  When the green mist had cleared from around the spot where Nina had sat not moments before, all that remained were her empty clothes.

“Wha….?” 
 
This was all that I could manage to say.  I reached out to touch Nina’s empty clothes and nearly jumped out of my skin when Nina’s jeans slipped to the floor.  Recovering my composure, I gently picked up her sweater.  A pair of lace panties lay on the seat.  Something slipped inside the sweater and a matching bra fell out on top of the panties.  I looked questioningly at Clea, who smiled broadly and pointed up to the emerald cloud floating at ceiling level.
 
“Ron,” she said.  “Meet Nina.”
 
I stood up.  As I did so, I breathed some of the green mist.  Suddenly my mind was inundated with a rush of images and the indescribable feeling of suspended orgasm.  My vision grayed a little as the realization fully took hold of me and I sat down with a thump.  After a second, I looked up to the ceiling.
 
“Hi Nina,”  I said.  “Pleased to meet you.”
 
*          *          *
 
I must have gotten faint, as I found myself on my back, staring up at the ceiling.  And at what used to be Nina.
 
Clea was looking down at me.  “How’s it goin’, champ?”
 
I sat up.  “Pretty well, considering the third member of our party is currently…”  I looked up.  “…gaseous.”
 
“Well that’s easily enough remedied.”  And she closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment.
 
The green cloud descended from the ceiling and enveloped the top of the table.  The tablecloth began to rise up as more and more of the green vapor slipped underneath it.  When the last of the vapor had disappeared, there was a scream.  Clea whipped away the tablecloth to reveal Nina, nude, lying on the table.  She was having an earth-shattering orgasm.  I don’t blame her – I was now incredibly turned on myself.  I doubt I could have stood up if I’d tried.
 
*          *          *
 
“What else can you do?”  I asked, scarcely able to believe what I had seen.
 
Clea smiled.  “Anything you can think of,” she said.  At that, Nina broke into a grin.  “Anything,” Nina whispered, her eyes never leaving Clea. 
 
Clea stood up and reached over to touch Nina’s left breast.  She caressed it and Nina closed her eyes in ecstasy.  Then, as though it had been designed to do so, the breast came away in Clea’s hand.  Nina gasped as Clea handed the piece of flesh to me.  I held it, feeling its warmth and its supple softness.  I teased the nipple and Nina gasped again in pleasure.  I was surprised by this.
 
“You feel that?”
 
“I feel everything,” said Nina, not taking her eyes off Clea.
 
“May I?” I asked Clea, gesturing toward Nina.
 
“Anything you want, dear,” she said, seeming to sense what he wanted to do.
 
I set Nina’s breast down on the table – Nina shivered a little at the touch of the cool surface – and grabbed her right shoulder firmly.  A quick yank and her entire arm came free.  Nina flexed her elbow and the disembodied limb folded up in his hands.  Her fingers waved at me, despite there being no nerves to connect it to her brain. 
 
I set the arm down and had quickly removed one of her legs at the hip.  She shifted position a little to maintain her balance, but kept smiling. 
 
I picked up the detached arm again.  I looked over to Clea, who had her eyes closed in concentration but still broke into a smile as though she knew my next move as well as I.  I moved the arm toward, with the fingers pointed directly toward her pussy.
 
She raised an eyebrow.  “If you want to do that, sugar, you’ll have to help me onto my back.”
 
And she was right.  Once she was on her back, I was able to slide the entire length of her arm, fingers first, into her vagina.  Unable to believe what I’d just done, I detached and then repeated the process with her left.  It too disappeared into her just as easily.
 
Emboldened, I went to work
 
 
*          *          *
 
Nina was in pieces.
 
A pair of disembodied feet lay upon the table to my right.  Nina’s breasts lay in a little pile on the table to my left.  Her arms and legs had disappeared into her pussy, which was currently hidden from view by Nina’s disembodied head, which sat facing away from me.  Nina’s reduced torso twitched in the middle of the table.
 
She was eating herself out.
 
“Wow,” was all that I could manage.  It was about all that I had been able to say for quite a while now.  I felt a hand touch mine.  Clea was holding my hand.  I felt an odd tingling and drew my hand away quickly.
 
I was wearing a ring.
 
I hadn’t been wearing one before.
 
“Your turn,” was all that she said.
 
A strange feeling, one of both fear and excitement, coursed through me.  Was I now going to feel what it was like to have magic worked on me?  What would she do to me?
 
“I’ve read your stories…and I can guess what might turn you on.  But we’ll start slowly.”
 
She closed her eyes and I felt myself, well, shift.  The room seemed to grow ever so slightly bigger as the ends of my sleeves slipped over my hands and my shoes slipped off my feet.  The waist of my trousers became loose and I was suddenly very uncomfortable as my clothes became extremely tight around the chest and the hips.  I gave a sudden gasp and turned to look back at Clea, but my vision was obscured by my now very long hair.  I reached up to push it out of my eyes and the fingers that touched my face were much more slender than mine.  The hair was blonde.  Mine had been dark brown.

“What…” I began to say, but stopped suddenly as I realized that the voice I heard was not mine, but a woman’s voice.
 
Clea was grinning, an odd look in her eyes as she surveyed me.
 
I found my voice (or rather my new voice) again.   “What did you do to me?”
 
“You should probably get out of those clothes.  I’d reckon they’re damned uncomfortable about right now.”
 
Not knowing what else to do, I followed her advice and was astounded to find, when I had begun to unbutton my shirt, that I possessed an extraordinary cleavage.
 
“Did you turn me into a woman?” my woman’s voice asked.  Clea smiled more broadly and I began to get really turned on again.  I had always wondered what this might be like…what it might feel like…and now it was happening.  I felt dampness at my crotch.  My eyes went wide and I stopped unbuttoning, leaving my new breasts hanging halfway out.  My hands stole down to my crotch and verified that the penis and testicles that I had possessed all my life were no longer there.
 
Then, more quickly than I would have thought possible, I had shucked off my pants and my underwear and was fingering my newly minted clitoris, nearly lost in the waves of pleasure that every touch sent through me.
 
Then I felt Clea’s hand on my arm.  I stopped and looked up.
 
“Not now dear.  There are other kinds of fun to have first.  Finish getting undressed.”
 
I did so and stood up on the chair to examine myself in the mirror that made up one wall of the booth.  I was extraordinary, much more pretty as a woman than I would have had any hope of being as a man.  My breasts were large and full and my hair long and blonde.  My skin was pale.  My legs were long, though I guessed I was only about 5’ 5” now.
 
“What are we going to do?”  I asked.
 
“We’re going to have a girls’ night out.  Dancing,” she said.
 
“That’s sounds wonderful,” I said, slowly running a hand down the smooth curvature of my thigh.  “But I’m afraid I don’t have anything to wear.”
 
“That’s okay.  I’m sure Nina can volunteer something.”
 
“Hmmm?”  said Nina, distracted from her self-service.
 
Clea reached out and turned her head around.  Nina’s eyes widened and she whistled lasciviously.
 
“Wow Ron!  Looking good.”
 
I did my best nude curtsey and looked quizzically at Clea, not understanding.  Nina had been clothed when she entered the booth, but what she’d been wearing was nothing special and besides, Nina was easily six inches taller than I was currently.
 
Nina must have been thinking the same thing.  “Clea dear…what I got isn’t the least bit suitable for clubbing.  And it won’t fit him, er, her.  And besides, what will I wear then?”
 
Clea looked disappointedly at us and picked up Nina’s head.
 
“You’re not going to wear anything, my dear,” she said, carefully wrapping Nina’s hair around her head.  “You are…”  She paused and, with a dramatic flourish, squashed Nina’s head between her hands.  She then took what remained and shook it out, holding it up for me to see.
 
It was a pair of black thong panties.
 
“You are going to be worn.”
 
*          *          *
 
Soon I was wearing Nina.  In fact, she was all that I wore.  The tight black strapless minidress I wore was her body.  The matching full-length gloves were her breasts, stretched and transformed.  On my feet I wore her feet, transformed into platform shoes – we’d tried stiletto heels, but I couldn’t stand, let alone walk, in those.  And, under it all, touching my most intimate parts, was her head, now a tiny black thong.
 
It wasn’t until I was fully dressed that I realized that my outfit was the mirror of Clea’s, mine black against pale skin, hers white against dark skin.  I asked if her outfit had also once been a friend of hers, but she only smiled and demurred.
 
Any thought along those lines was obliterated, though, as we strolled through the club.  Heads, both male and female, turned as we passed and I have to admit that the feeling of power I had was exhilarating.  As I danced, my new breasts bobbed, barely constrained by Nina’s thin fabric body.  She rubbed against my thighs and pressed against my pussy.
 
It felt good.  Really good.  And the better I felt, the more I danced.  The more I danced, the better I felt.  And all the time, I had Clea in my arms and Nina’s fabric form wrapped tightly around my body.
 
After what seemed like hours I excused myself and went to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic.  As I waited, I watched Clea dance wildly with a group of young men.  I felt a pang of jealousy.  Then an odd feeling, like I might suddenly begin to cry.
 
There was a tap on my shoulder and I whirled around.  A middle-aged man was surveying me, a beaming smile on his face.  I was bracing to rebuff amorous advances when suddenly he grabbed my hand and began shaking it.
 
“I thought I knew you,” he began. “I used to do business with your father.  Must be nearly ten years now.  How is ol’ Harold doing these days?”
 
I stared at him stupidly.  He kept going.
 
“I confess that I can’t quite remember your name.  The memory’s the first thing to go, they say.  Karen?  Clara?  I swear you don’t look a day older than the last time I saw you.  My wife would kill to know your secret.”
 
He stopped, finally noticing my confused expression.
 
“Oh dear,” he said.  “Perhaps I’ve made a dreadful mistake.  You don’t know Harold Strickland?”
 
I shook my head slowly.  The urge to cry was returning.
 
“Oh.  Sorry to bother you, then,” he stammered and turned away quickly.

I took the opportunity to flee.
 
Ten minutes later, Clea found me in the women’s restroom.  I’d made the mistake of trying to enter the men’s room first, but had been saved from embarrassment when a group of boisterous frat boys emerged and I remembered what I was and tried the other door.  I had managed to get myself to a stall before the torrent of tears had begun.
 
I had stopped by the time Clea knocked on the door of my stall, but the evidence was still on my face.
 
“You okay?” she asked.   “I saw you with that old bald guy.  What happened…did he make a pass at you?”

I nodded, not really in a mood to explain the actual weirdness of the encounter.

“And you found that you couldn’t keep yourself from crying, right?”
I nodded again and an understanding smile crept across her face.  “Of course,” she whispered, closing her eyes.  Suddenly I felt much calmer.
 
“When I made you a woman, I must have unconsciously put you on my cycle,” she said, as though that explained everything.  Then she noticed my confusion.
 
“PMS.  Whacky hormones.  They affect different women different ways.  I’m lucky…I only get really, really horny when my time comes.  But you don’t appear to be so lucky…so I’ve set your cycle back a couple of weeks.”
 
“Can’t you make me like you?”
 
“Doesn’t look like it.  I can change your body, but not your mind.”  She reached down and took my hand.  “C’mon, let’s go.  I think we’ve both had enough dancing and socializing for the evening.”
 
“Where are we going?”
 
“Back to my hotel room.  Like I said, when my time comes, I get really, really horny.”
 
I liked the sound of that.
 
*          *          *
 
The room was larger than I had expected.
 
“You want a shower?”
 
I nodded and Clea tossed me not one, but two towels.  “Stop up the drain before you start – I want to take a bath when you’re done.  And don’t get undressed before you get in.”
 
I started the shower and did just as she instructed.  The water soaked my clothes and pressed them to my body.  I closed my eyes and imagined the jets of water as little fingers caressing me.  Then suddenly I became aware that the sensations were in fact fingers running along the surface of my now-exposed skin.  I felt smooth, warm skin press up against my backside and long arms wrap around me from behind, hands cupping and supporting my breasts as gentle lips kissed my neck.
 
“I loved you inside of me,” breathed a voice in my ear.  I turned and found myself being embraced by Nina, once again human and as naked and wet as I was.  She seemed to be under some strain, as though she were holding something back.  “I loved touching you all over.” 

And then she relaxed and her body trembled violently.  She moaned and I realized that she was having an orgasm.  A big one.  I held her tight.
 
When she was done, my curiousity got the best of me.
 
“You could feel…?”
 
“I was conscious and aware of everything that happened from the time my head became your panties.  And every surface of my body, even though it was in…” She did a quick count. “…six parts, was as sensitive as the tip of your….” 
 
I gasped as she lightly pinched my left nipple.
 
“And the orgasm?”  I gasped again as she pinched my right nipple.  This time the pleasure was even more pronounced.
 
“I think that you’ll find out soon enough,” she said.  “Look.”
 
She held her hand in front of my face.  Between her thumb and forefinger was a small pink button of flesh.  I looked down.  My right nipple was missing.  I jumped in surprise.
 
“Oops!” exclaimed Nina as my sudden motion caused her to drop the nipple, which struck the water collecting in the tub and promptly dissolved.  I felt a pleasurable tingle in my breast and looked down to see that the nipple had returned.
 
“Wow!” said Nina, who once again plucked off the nipple and tossed it into the water, with identical results as before.  Hurriedly, she went to try it yet again, but ended up jamming her fingers into my breast. 
 
They penetrated, plunging into me as a knife might go into butter.
 
Nina’s eyes lit up and she pushed in farther, scooping out my entire right breast and holding it in her hand.  The pleasure was immense and I could see the nipple on the disembodied breast stand up and harden.  I looked down and examined the hole where the breast used to be as Nina dropped the breast into the water.  As the breast dissolved in a pink swirl, I watched the surface where the breast had been before bulge out and reform the missing breast.
 
I decided turnabout was fair play and poked at Nina, scooping out her left breast and dumping it into the water.  She retaliated gleefully and soon the same had happened to mine.  I reached out, grabbed her slender neck, and squeezed.  My fingers met little resistance as they cut through it and Nina’s head, wearing a look of profound surprise, toppled off her body and splashed in the water, fizzing as it dissolved.  I looked up to find Nina looking me in the eye, the same surprised expression on her face.
 
“You’re getting shorter,” I observed matter-of-factly as she reached out and knocked off my right arm.
 
“We both are,” she replied.  “Look around you.”
 
I turned and noted with astonishment that the top edge of the tub was now even with our waists.  I looked down and for the first time noticed the pink swirling under the surface of the water.  We’d been dissolving the whole time we were in the shower, each of us losing mass through our submerged feet.  And as we grew shorter, the process was accelerating.  The edge of the tub was already approaching shoulder height.
 
We looked at each other and shrugged, then plunged into each other, our bodies commingling as the last of our solid bodies was absorbed into the swirling water.
 
My vision went blank as my eyes disappeared, but I could feel my now-liquid body, its shape defined by the bottom of the tub.  I now understood why Clea had asked me to put in the stopper.  Otherwise Nina and I would be on our way to a water-treatment plant right now. 
 
And I could feel Nina.  Not that I could sense her thoughts really, but rather that I could sense another living essence in the tub with me.  We were becoming mixed on the molecular level, a degree of penetration that I had previously thought impossible. With this thought, I became aware of the orgasm that was building up inside me.  How I’d  missed it before, I’m not sure, for it was arriving with the force of meteor’s impact.  I also could sense that it would continue to build as long as I existed in this state…and that it would not end until I was returned to something resembling a human form.  This realization only intensified the pleasure even more, so much more that I barely heard Clea’s voice far above me:
 
“I see that my bath is ready.”  I felt a tingling as something solid entered me and then withdrew.
 
“Body temperature,” Clea continued.  “Just the way that I like it.”
 
Then she climbed into the tub.  Into me.  Into Nina.  She submerged herself in us and I could feel the totality of her in three dimensions, our body tracing out her every curve and contour.  I could feel her every movement, her every breath.  She took some of us into her mouth.  Then she reached down to her crotch and I felt some of us flow into and fill her vagina.
 
At this point the pleasure building within me grew greater than I could resist and the wave of ecstasy took me and I knew no more.
 
*          *          *
 
I awoke screaming my ecstasy.
 
I was in bed.  I was still female.  I was still nude.  And I was thirsty.
 
I looked around.  There was a glass of water on the bedside table.  I took a sip.
 
“Good morning,” said Clea.  “Or, I suppose it’s still ‘good evening.’  It can be so difficult to keep track in this town.”
 
Clea was standing at the foot of the bed.  She was also nude but for a large amulet around her neck.
 
She picked up her white dress from where it was draped over a chair.  She wadded it up in her hands and began to turn it inside out.  As she did, an object began to emerge from it.  It was a doll.  It had long blonde hair and looked like a Barbie doll, though it appeared to be a little smaller. 
 
When the doll had emerged completely from the dress, I noticed that the dress had completely vanished.  She sat the doll down on the chair facing me.  Then, oddly, she picked the doll back up and with a disturbing sneer marring her pretty face, violently ripped the arms and legs off of it and flung them across the room.  They made rattling noises as they struck walls and furniture.  “See how you like that, you little cunt,” she murmured as she sat the doll back down and propped it up to face me once more.
 
Her composure now returned, she picked up her panties (white also) and began stuffing them into her closed fist.  Her long white gloves followed along with – and I could scarcely believe my eyes – her stiletto-healed shoes.  All these disappeared into her closed fist.
 
She then stuck her fingers in and began to pull out something that was black.   As it turned out, it was the hair of another doll nearly the same size of the first.  If the first could be said to be a replica of me in my present state (and I didn’t care to deeply contemplate Clea’s rage against it if this was indeed the case), this was certainly a replica of Clea herself.  She set it down carefully next to the first.
 
“There,” she said, seeming to speak to the doll.  “You girls should have a nice view of the show.”
 
“Nina?”  I asked.
 
“Oh dear me no.  Nina’s sitting over there.”
 
I looked to where she had pointed and nearly choked.
 
She was pointing at the glass of water.  The glass I had been drinking from.  The glass that was now half empty.
 
“Please tell me that she’s the glass…” I pleaded, a touch of desperation in my voice.
 
“Oh no,” said Clea, smiling at my discomfort.  “You’ve been drinking her.”
 
Seeing me turn green, she continued quickly.  “Don’t worry about her.  She’s just fine no matter where she is.  Here.”  She strode over to the table and picked up the glass.  She took a sip herself and then turned the glass upside down, pouring what was left of Nina out onto the bed.
 
I lunged forward in a vain attempt to catch her and stopped short when what struck the bed wasn’t liquid at all, but solid.  I leaned forward to look.
 
Nina was now a glass dildo.
 
“Lie down,” said Clea, picking Nina up.  “It occurs to me,” she continued, stroking my thigh, “that you have not yet had a proper female orgasm.  I think it is time that we took care of that.”  Her fingers wandered across my pussy and came away wet.
 
“I see that you agree.”
 
And then Nina was inside me.
 
And the dolls watched us silently.
 
*          *          *
 
It took me a long time to cum.
 
It wasn’t because I couldn’t manage to, mind you.  I just wanted to savor the experience, as I had no idea when I might be able to experience anything of its like again.
 
Good thing, too, as it was like nothing I could have imagined.  I’d had a magic-induced orgasm and more male orgasms than I can count, but this was different in so many ways.  Ways, I must admit, that I cannot properly articulate.
 
When Clea was done and I lay panting, she dropped the dildo on the bed next to me and threw the covers over it.  Shortly thereafter, Nina was embracing me, kissing me.
 
After a couple of minutes of this, Clea cleared her throat and we looked up.
 
“My turn now,” she said.  She reached into her purse and pulled out an object wrapped in handkerchief.  Suddenly I had a strange feeling, as though she were holding a part of me…a part of me that I had forgotten about until this moment.  Then she unwrapped the object.
 
It was a penis.
 
Or more specifically, my erect, disembodied penis.
 
I sat up and Nina reached out her hand and took my penis from Clea, who laid down on the bed in front of us.
 
Nina then proceeded to use my penis on Clea.  The juxtaposition of the scene of two women having sex and the feeling of my own penis buried deep within Clea was so compelling that I began to masturbate.
 
So when Clea finally came, so did I.
 
Twice. 
 
I had male and female orgasms simultaneously and passed out.

*          *          *
 
“Take me with you!”
 
Nina’s voice brought consciousness with it.
 
“Are you sure?”
 
“I hate my job.  I need a vacation.  Please.”
 
I sat up.  I was male again, and whole.  Clea was lying on the bed next to me.  Nina, nude and only six inches tall, was cradled between her breasts.
 
“Are you sure?”
 
“Yes.  Please.  Make me your plaything.”  There was a tinge of wildness in Nina’s voice.
 
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” Clea replied, an enigmatic look on her face.  She turned to me.  “And you?”
 
I considered my life.  What I might be sacrificing were I to go with them.  I had no wife, no girlfriend, very few friends and a job that was okay, but uninspiring. 
 
“Take me too,” was out of my mouth before I could even fully form the thought.
 
“Wonderful,” said Clea smiling.  Nina clapped delightedly.  “In that case, it’s time to go.”  I started to get up, but Clea reached out to restrain me.  “We have to travel by special means,” she said, fingering the medallion at her neck.  “I’m the only person who can go.  But don’t worry.  Watch.”
 
She closed her eyes.  Nina looked up from where she lay.  “Ooh,” she said, “I wonder what…”

She didn’t have time to finish, because she abruptly sank into Clea’s skin, seeming to become two-dimensional in the process.  I leaned over for a closer look.  There, between Clea’s breasts, was a six-inch-tall tattoo of a nude Nina.  I reached out and ran my fingers over it.  There was no transition that I could feel between Nina and the surrounding skin.  As my fingers traveled over her, though, Nina’s figure twitched and then began to move.
 
An animated tattoo.  Nina waved at me.  I waved back.  With a strange, slow swimming motion, she moved from her position between Clea’s breast down to her pussy and disappeared underneath her, likely taking up a position on one of Clea’s buttocks.
 
“How?” I asked, but was also cut off when Clea grabbed my wrist and I felt an odd falling sensation.  Clea seemed to balloon in size as I plummeted toward her now-vast navel.   When I struck, it was with intense force and I felt myself flattened and pushed into the surface of her skin.  I was plunged into darkness.  I couldn’t see.
 
I could feel Clea moving.
 
“Turn around, silly,” she chided.  I tried to do as she instructed and felt like I was wading through molasses.  But difficult as it was, my vision did return.  Clea was standing, still nude, in front of a full-length mirror.  What I saw astounded me.
 
There, on Clea’s belly, was a small tattoo of me.  As Clea began to dress and my vision became obscured by a wall of fabric, I began to understood why my movements were so slow – they were limited by my ability to push the substance of my two-dimensional ink body between the cells of her epidermis. 
 
Something touched me.  Or rather, I felt something brush against one of my edges.  I was momentarily alarmed, but then I remembered Nina.
 
Her caress continued.  Slowly, I turned and reached out, feeling the edge of my hand brush the edge of her.  Then, with just the slightest resistance, it pushed right into her.  I drew back for a moment, and then realized that my hand had, from the perspective of anyone viewing us from the outside, passed over her.  But, as we were both ink within the surface of Clea’s skin, my body had actually displaced Nina’s.  Fascinating.
 
I had turned onto my side to touch her and my now-accessible penis tingled as she caressed.  Then, with a shock, I felt it disappear as she took it into her mouth.  It was gone now, but I could still feel it!
 
When she was done, I moved across and through her, mounting her body, making it vanish as I did.  And this was we passed the time in a most pleasant way as Clea took us home with her.  To be hers.
 
To be continued….