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Hello, this is my first attempt at writing fantasy erotica. I hope you enjoy.

Please leave a comment or review, good or bad to help me improve.

Thank you,

Monkey.

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I’d been friends with Hasan for about two years and he always ended up the same after a break up. A sad pathetic wreck. You’d think he’d been sacked from applying Katy Perrys panties.

For the third time this year Hasan moped about the flat we shared. It wasn’t how we should be spending Christmas eve, but I could never leave when he pulled his lost puppy look.

We ate lunch in silence, while he kept checking her socials. It was a common event really. As time passed and we started drinking he opened up about why he couldn’t keep a girl. I knew he was what people called a fuck boy. A shallow and selfish man who had little concern for the women in his life. Nothing to do with his upbringing, he was just a asshole.

He said his dick was too big and they couldn’t handle it.

Yeah, I’m sure thats what it was. A few beers later and I had finally talked his phone off him and he relaxed into the couch.

“You know, fuck dating. Can’t we skip the bullshit.”

He gestures broadly.

“Like, I like you, you like me.”

“Lets just get married.” I sang.

“Matty, if I could I would.” He laughed. “You don’t cause shit, you call me on mine.”

A moment of rare self awareness passed Hasans face. Honestly, he wasn’t a bad person. Just not a decent boyfriend, ever.

“We get on great, never had a single disagreement. You do your bit, I do mine”.

And that was true, he was a better cook, when he bothered that was. I had a better grasp of the finer details of home management.

Bills were split evenly barring our most personal purchases. It left us both fairly well off each month. His work with a legal firm and mine as an in house editor with a big publisher paid fairly well.

He had women over occasionally and I quite a lot less. I lacked Hasans natural charm and good looks. That and his family was loaded.

“As if pal, it’d take a miracle for me to be your girl. I’d be far too hot for the likes of you.”

With chuckles I handed him another beer. We’d been drinking most of the afternoon, being off work for a few days over Christmas.

“That would be something wouldn’t it. You wake up tomorrow a bitch, hungry for my cock.”

“I’ll suck your dick when you learn to be good to women and quit smoking you little shit. So never.”

Good natured banter flew back and forth between us. Hasan stepped onto our balcony to smoke and I joined him when he finished.

He smiled broadly at me.

“My Christmas wish is for Matthew Harlow to turn into a beautiful woman with a craving for my cock.”

He shouted to the stars above.

“To be wrapped in a pretty bow beneath my tree! Give us promotions and wins and a happy new year.”

I laughed out loud.

“Christmas wishes, from you? Fine.”

Taking a deep breath I yelled out as snow began to fall.

“My Christmas wish is to wake up a woman. Make me gorgeous, make us successful, make him respectful and give us a tree too!”

As other tenants yelled at us to shut up we retreated inside and watched to snow fall.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll treat you nice. Blow jobs every other day and anal on the weekends.”

“Sure, you be my baby and I’ll be your little cock whore” I said. Hasan and I laughed. We really did get along well together.

The night wore on and the hour grew late, the snow piled up and for a brief moment the moon shone through. The world glitters and sparkles with moonlight glistening on the snow, and for a moment magic flickers across the world. And landed on everyone who made an impossible Christmas wish.

As Christmas morning broke, children worldwide were hopping with excitement and families gathered together. A new world came to be.

I awoke cold and stiff as I came around, I felt as it my clothes had become twisted and wrapped around my body. I shook my head and soft black curls bounced into my face. I stood, pulling at my, hair? My hair wasnt this long. I grabbed at it thinking Hasan had put a wig on me but as long sharp nails bit into my scalp I realised something was very, very wrong.

I struggled to my feet and fell clumsily, trying to balance in a pair of red high heels with a fuzzy fur trim. As I truly began to focus I could see the enormity of what was wrong. Where once was an unremarkable athletic body was now peak instagram fitness model. From the tone and definition of my legs and abs to the two large tits that filled my vision as I looked down. My nails were painted shiny gold and my body was wrapped in a satin bow. My mind raced, I had to be dreaming. Had to. I grabbed my arm and pinched hard and yelped in pain. This was real. I walked hesitantly to the bathroom, holding on to surfaces and walls as I went. I flipped on the light and stared at myself. Aside from the panic on my face I looked gorgeous. Blinking deep hazel çubuk escort eyes framed by beautiful festive make up I took a good look at my self. There was no doubt in my mind I was a woman. Tits, ass and all. My lips were full, painted red. Sharp cheekbones and a slender neck.

My breasts stood high and proud. Defying gravity in the satin band. I tugged it down to reveal two rosy nipples, pointing in the cold air. There was a frantic fascination as I turned this way and that. My body was tightly toned, not muscled like the pros but still perfectly formed. With shaking hands I pulled the band to one side revealing a small strip of hair and the prettiest little snatch. No dick in sight.

I looked over my shoulder to see a perfectly built backside. Perky and peachy, the band pulled up between my ass. Stockings, a sheer red, covered long and shapely legs. It was weird but as I looked around I noticed changes to the bathroom. Womens stuff covered over half the space, creme and sprays, a bag containing makeup and crap I’d never seen before. I opened the medicine cabinet and saw boxes of tampons and a pharmacy pill box. Snatching it up I discovered it was plan-b. Prescribed to Matilda Harlow. Time seemed to slow as I put it back. The back of my head kept whispering about a hoax, a joke. A trick Hasan had pulled. I kept expecting cameras to pop out and laughs all round. I reached under my left arm and found the scar I got when I fell and got a branch through into my chest at 12.

I wandered to the counter where I normally dropped my wallet and phone. In its place was a burgundy purse and a phone, same make and model. I first checked my purse, all the same numbers and accounts drivers licence too. All in the name Matilda.

I opened my phone, same code, all 12 digits and when it opened a picture of me and Hasan as a home screen. Cheek to cheek, the background was of a picture we took like a pair of bros in vegas over the summer. It was a great time but we looked like a couple in this photo. I searched my camera roll, pics of myself in the gym, in different outfits and an enormous number of pictures of me and Hasan. A lot of pictures.

My heart sank, it was impossible. There was no way but times and dates lined up with times I knew we’d been out together. I switched to film and it was much the same. Until I came across one of what was obviously this me, sucking deeply on a brown dick.

A fat, long and heavy looking cock.

And I looked like I was enjoying it. Hands free, slipping it in back and forth with ease. It looked like I could deep throat his dick with ease. I watched with fascination until a voice began grunting, Hasans voice.

“Im coming Mattie.”

I saw me slip the cock from my mouth and watched it shoot heavy, thick-looking lines of come into my face, I watched it splash on my tongue in huge loads. I watched myself close my pretty lips together and swallow. Then I wrapped my lips around his cut cock head and sucked deeply. I let it out with a pop, smiled brightly then opened my mouth to show it was empty.

Hasans voice came back

“I love you, whore.”

I couldn’t believe what I’d just seen. Never in a million years would I have done that. My mind was reeling. Even as I’d watched it I felt my body react. It grew warm and tingly. My mouth began salivating. Quickly I switched it off and rushed to my room. Barely noticing how easy I moved in the heels. But I didn’t have a room anymore. It was an office or study.

It had books on shelves, some legal others trade paperbacks. Two high end computers desks and chairs. A book cover facing outwards had Matilda Henlow written on the cover. I’d always wanted to write a book. It seemed I’d written 4.

Actual thrillers. I couldn’t believe it, imagine writing a book and having no recollection of it.

Hasan, where was he? I went to his room and instead of the tasteless lads room (which at 23 he should have outgrown anyway) was an obviously shared bedroom. Good bedding, nice curtains a decent dresser. This wasn’t Hasan at all. Pictures framed on the wall and on bedside tables showed he and I together. Being cute, formal and silly. Real couple stuff. We looked happy.

Before I could do anything else I heard the front door slam shut.

“Matt? Matt? Do you know how the fuck I ended up stuck in my car?”

He sounded as panicked as I was.

“I don’t drive drunk, never, so what the fuck happened? And where the hell did we get such a nice tree on christmas day?”

I went out to meet him forgetting my current state and said “Hasan, I’m so glad you’re home.” He turned to face me, then right back around.

“Sorry, didn’t know Matt had company. I’ll just slip into my room.”

He didn’t turn to face me as he fled to his room.

“What the fuck?”

He declared as he entered his room. Quickly he barged into what was my room, he came out again. Flustered and stammering apologies about getting the wrong apartment. I’d been talking to him all this time demetevler escort until, finally I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the kitchen.

“Sit” I said and meekly he sat at our modest yet stylish table.

“Hasan, its me Matt. Don’t speak.” I cut him off and grabbed my phone.

“You got your phone on you, you know my number by heart?”

I dialed the number under baby. His phone rang and as he picked it up, a picture of my face and Matts number came up labeled sweetheart. His eyes widened in disbelief

“Nobody touches your phone, ever. Right? Check your camera roll and” I breathed heavily” videos… I’ll be right back.”

I didn’t bother to see if he obeyed, I went to the safe in my closet. Thats where I had it prior to today, and sure enough, there it was. Inside I found cash, jewelry and our tenancy agreement. Hasan Almasi and Matilda Harlow, right there in black and white. From the other room I heard Hasan.

“I did not get head yesterday, how did you get my dick?”

I took my findings to Hasan and dropped them in front of him, he stared at our signatures. Then in turn several photos going back at least 2 years. He looked at me properly for the first time and said

“Matilda? Wasn’t your sister called…”

He trailed off at the mention of her. We’d lost her 6 years ago and it stil hurt my parents. But he was right.

Hasan made coffee after insisting I put something proper on. I felt bad for ruining the ribbon but I might have screamed if Hasan hadn’t looked at me. Searching for something to wear I settled on the first thing I saw. Capri yoga pants, a big fluffy jumper with a reindeer on the front and a pair of ballet flats.

Sat on either side of the living room I listened as Hasan told me about waking up in his car. In his reserved space except he didn’t have a reserved space. He was a drone, nameless but essential to the firm. He had no recollection of getting there and why he was there anyway. Only heads of department would be in on Christmas eve. Late night office party and bonus payouts. As he said that, he opened his banking app. I followed suit, showing him all the payments into our joint account. I had near triple my savings, Hasan, sat down heavily.

“I got a $55000 bonus, what the fuck is going on.”

I told him where I’d woken up in the same state he found me in. How I’d discovered the changes around the house.

“Looks like we got our Christmas wishes”

He laughed, as though he had no other choice. The drunken absurdity came back to me and as stupid as it sounded, it all fit. We had better jobs, I was a gorgeous woman and Hasan..

“Hey, Hasan.”

I flashed him my bare breasts and he turned away. He was more respectful. For now I thought, though I wondered if seeing my tits gave him a hard on.

Thats when the thought hit me, he’d said craves my cock. That was part of it. There was more too. But I couldn’t help but glance at Hasans crotch. Part of me itched to see it. To touch it and taste it.

“Oh, fuck” I said.

“When was that video taken, Hasan?”

When he replied with yesterday I was filled with dread. He looked at me with questioning look. I opened my mouth to speak just as his phone rang.

“It’s mom, what do I do?”

“You answer Mamma Almasi, thats what you do.”

As soon as he picked up she began talking, we soon gleaned that she believed everything to be normal. That things were going well. That I was the daughter she never had and Christmas was wonderful. I got the same from my parents.

And punched in the gut when they mentioned dear dead Matthew. The phones quieted down and as we reconvened Hasan brought something to the table.

“I found this.”

He said as he placed a ring box on the table.

“Last night I said I’d marry you if I could.”

Inside was a beautiful platinum band set with a stone the size of a fucking Cheerio.

“Looks like things were going well for us, shame.” He shrugged sadly.

I couldn’t resist trying it on. It sparkled so nicely in the tree lights. I put the ring back in the box.

It felt like I’d forgotten something as I glanced at the tree. Sitting beneath was a pile of presents so I wandered over and grabbed one.

“It’s for you Hasan, from me”

He opened a classic looking Rolex. Mid tier but nice, a classic i’m on my way up watch. Smiling and thanking me he slipped it on and grabbed a present from him to me. A necklace, again diamond and tasteful. The day had worn on us, so we sat and gave gifts to each other. New laptops, new italian shoes for him and more jewels for me. We sat and laughed, for a while ignoring the weird feelings and for a time it felt like a normal day.

He handed me the last box, stuffed way in the back. The note read, ‘To you, for me, Love you always Hasan.’ I raised an eyebrow as I opened it and inside was a full set of matching lingerie. Bra, garter, panties and stockings. I’ll admit it was a really trashy set. But the moment ankara escort I saw it I remembered his conditions. He smiled wryly at me.

“Sorry, I guess we don’t have the relationship we did.”

“We have a problem Hasan, you stipulated something in your wish.”

I swallowed hard.

“Has a craving for my cock, and just as we came inside you said.”

Slack jawed Hasan finished for me.

“Blow job every other day and anal on weekends, then you said you’d be my little cock whore.”

Evan as he said it my eyes glanced at his crotch and I involuntarily licked my lips.

“Fuck no, nope. Not happening.”

I ran carrying the box to our room. I sat on the bed frozen. The whole world had changed, all my family knew this Matilda was dating Hasan. That we were great together and everything. But that wasn’t me, I couldn’t do this, do the things she did in the video. I didn’t want to, I thought, but as I sat there my mind wandered to Hasan, sat alone on Christmas. As scared and worried as I was probably. I wasn’t being a good friend. I was being silly, I’d just say no if he brought it up. He wouldn’t anyway, he’d changed.

A soft knock at the door and Hasan entered.

“I’ll make dinner Matt. We have a pretty good kitchen stock.”

He half smiled and continued on,

“I’ll never ask you to do something you don’t want too. I’ll go running in the snow or eat raw potatoes first.”

He sat on the bed next to me, my now smaller frame leaning towards him.

“This might be it for us from now on. And I think we should stick together. We never fight and I’m sure you’ll get used to your new body. There are worse things.” He chuckle pleasantly warm.

And he was right, I had no idea how to fix the complete rewriting of reality. What was I going to do, wish upon a star?

Pull wishbones blowout candles and toss pennies into wells forever? I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow and low.

“Ok” I said “Whats for dinner baby.” And smiled as brightly as I could. Then I felt something click.

“Cute. What do I call you, oh thats right sweetheart.” I saw his eyes flicker. “Did something just go ping? This could be good, could be bad.”

I honestly didn’t know which.

We sat and ate our dinner in relative silence. Once or twice our feet would touch under the table. Was he doing it on purpose? Was I? I slid my foot forward until it met his, he looked up and moved his foot. I did the same with the other side and he moved again.

“Stop teasing me and eat your dinner, Matilda.”

His using my proper name made me cross. I decided to stop teasing him for now. But I’d get my revenge. He doesn’t call me that. And I knew just what to do.

After dinner I excused myself to the bathroom and hid the lingerie set in the hamper. I couldn’t tease you? said who. I felt a strange mix of emotions. But as I thought about strutting around in that outfit I mostly felt excitement. He’d get so hard for me. And then, he’d get nothing. The perfect plan I thought.

We spent the evening checking things out. Making sure to brush up on details. We noticed that it felt like reading something you knew but might have forgotten. Things came back to us quickly and most part it lined up easy.

“We’ll share the bed” I said. “After all its what we do. We’ll live like a couple until we get our bearings then go from there.”

Hasan agreed, “For the best, I’m sure. Ill go shower.” He looked so sadly at me. A minuet later I realised that was a cruel thing to say. He was in the same boat as I was so followed him to apologise.

He’d already finished in the bathroom and was currently in the bedroom. Two birds with one stone I thought. I stripped down and showered like lightning, an easy feat when you leave your hair alone it seems. A rough towel dry and I began slipping on the lingerie. I put the stockings and high waist suspender belt on first, then the demi cup bra. My tits sat in the cups but my nipples and most of my bust remained on display. It looked so vulgar. I looked like some kind of whore. Thats when I realised the video was filmed in here. It was in this bathroom I’d taken Hasans big arab cock. I’d sucked him to orgasm and I’d loved it. Oh shit, I’m his cock whore. I asked for that.

My mind raced. Filled with visions of Hasan, memories I hadn’t made of him fucking me, seeing his smile as I swallowed his loads. Feeling my anus pucker as he pressed into it, calling me his white bitch. God, was I dripping onto the bathroom floor, my juices leaving a spreading puddle where I stood. I was done. This felt good, I’d never been so excited or felt so sexually powerful.

I stood at the bedroom door, hand cupping my crotch.

“Hasan, baby…I need some help, it won’t stop dripping.”

He opened the door to me. Shirtless, with hard abs and broad shoulders. I fell into his chest hair and breathed deeply.

“Whats wrong Matilda”?

“Don’t, don’t call me that. You call me Sweetheart, or slut.”

I raised my soaked fingers and pressed the into his mouth. He knew the taste. He looked into my desperately pleading eyes and sucked at my fingers.

“I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know if I’m good, but please I’m desperate. I need it, I want you to fuck me. Fuck and come and come again. Let me be your whore.”

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