v1 CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: (18+) In which potent feelings transform a peaceful beach getaway.

Micki opened her eyes to stare over the waves. It felt like an unimaginably long time since she’d simply enjoyed a beach, or the smells and sights of the ocean. As Father Michael, she stopped visiting local beaches once she’d felt old, dumpy, and respectable. The waves rolled towards her and then away, carrying grains of sand in the sunset light.

She sat up on her beach towel, stretching her arms over her head. Respectable: a word that couldn’t possibly describe her anymore. Father Michael never had assets like hers, or a swimsuit like this. The top of the white string bikini barely covered anything but the center of her boobs, with a tiny triangle of cloth hiding the lower half of her crotch. No shame in looking good—but she still grappled with a sense of loss that she couldn’t quite shake. She pulled the top down so it wouldn’t shift around her ample chest, then looked over her shoulder at her buttocks.

Her ass was perfect. Not too big; not too small—taut and round and perfectly shaped. A few months ago, she could never have imagined her backside as attractive; now it was almost impossible to glance at her butt without wanting to caress and squeeze every inch of dark red flesh.

She turned her gaze towards the long stretch of sand in front of her. The beach remained appealingly empty, save for one figure trotting in her direction. The girl wore a striped one-piece suit in blue and white; her long brown hair wag gathered behind her head. She was pretty, with a cute, disarmingly open face peppered with freckles. Slim and tall, she had teenage curves without the voluptuous swell of Micki’s body, or Yael’s.

Then the girl walked towards her, smiling shyly. “Hi, Micki.” She twisted her hips nervously. “You’re still okay with me being in your dream, I hope?”

Abruptly Micki remembered, her mind shifting through the strangeness of dream logic. Minutes ago, she’d rested her head on a pillow to nap, and now she was… here!?

“Sherill! Oh yes, of course! I’m so glad to meet you… in person? In dreams.” Micki stood and reached out with one hand. Sherill shook it gently; the girl’s skin felt cool and dry.

“Um… would it be all right if I—if I gave you a hug? It’s been so long since I’ve seen anyone, and I’ve been so glad for your company. But like, I don’t want to be weird or anything, if that’s creepy!” The flustered girl waved her hands in front of her.

Micki laughed and extended her arms, motioning Sherill in. They clasped each other tightly, arms intertwining.

“Oh yeah,” breathed Sherill. “This is nice. I haven’t had a hug in forever.”

When they separated, Micki noticed how much taller Sherill was. After decades spent as a man over six feet tall, Micki still wasn’t used to occupying a petite and curvy package. Sherill was long and lean, a little awkward—but that seemed likely to have more to do with her personality than her body.

They sat down on the towel, and Sherill leaned happily against Micki’s shoulder. “Is this ok?” she asked. “Can we, like… stay together for a while? I’m just happy to have a friend. If we’re friends, I mean!”

Micki chuckled. “Sure thing, kiddo. We’re friends.” She glanced at the girl’s profile, admiring her smooth skin and strong jawline—and those wide eyes, which grew bigger under Micki’s considered gaze.

“Oh, um. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything. I know you’re probably attracted to, uh, to—” she stammered.

“All types?” Micki prompted helpfully. She ran a finger along the outside of Sherill’s arm. “It’s true. I’m basically a succubus. Omnisexual by nature. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to put the moves on you. I know you mentioned your boyfriend… Vic?”

“Yeah,” Sherill murmured. “It’s like he’s my anchor; remembering him makes me feel safe. At least while I can still remember him. I can’t really make people show up in dreams, you know? Just minor changes. Would you like some seagulls?”

Sherill traced her finger across the sky, and now there were small shapes flying overhead in the sunset light. “My mother always said I’m only supposed to make dreams better, of course. Got any requests?”

Micki perked up. “Hmmm. How about one of those big fruity tropical drinks? Can I have one of those?”

Sherill looked confused. “What kind of drink?”

Micki gestured with her hand vaguely. “The ones that come in coconuts, with a straw and fruit inside, a plastic umbrella, that sort of thing?”

A coconut floated past on the waves—then suddenly split open like an eggshell. Sherill ran into the surf and picked it up. “I guess this looks pretty good?” The coconut had some milky froth inside, topped by a wedge of pineapple.

Micki laughed. “It’s all right! I know you’re underage. When we get out of this god-forsaken place, we’ll have to get together and watch some beach-themed movies, or something.”

The two of them sat and enjoyed the sunset, which went on much longer than any sunset Micki had ever watched in reality.

“Micki?” asked Sherill. “Can I tell you a little more about Vic? I never get to talk to anyone about our relationship… and it would help me remember him.” Micki had rolled over onto her stomach, feeling the sun’s rays warm her crimson backside. Her tail lashed from side to side; she rolled around on her belly like a feline stretching after a nap.

“Sure thing,” she said. “You can start by telling me why you love him so much.”

Sherill’s eyes glistened with tears. “Because—he’s my hero! He took care of me when no one else could. All he wanted was to take care of me. And I—I did my best to return the favor.”

Micki put her arm around Sherill for a reassuring squeeze, then reached behind her to the ties of her bikini. “Tell me all about him. I’d love to hear your story. Don’t mind me and my teeny-weeny bikini… I’ve just got to let these ridiculous melons of mine get loose for a while.”

Sherill’s mouth opened slightly as Micki’s breasts spilled forth, but she didn’t seem too bothered by them. Micki smiled gently. “Go ahead, tell me about him!” She gave herself a playful slap on the butt as she lay on her stomach again. “Succubus gonna succubate, after all.”

Sherill giggled and went on. “Vic was always so nice to me—and gentle. Even though I wasn’t the same person back then.” She sighed as if remembering a fond memory. “Before we ever got together, he was like my older brother—always watching out for me. Even when we dated, he treated me with respect; even when he found out I was—” Sherill stopped abruptly.

“What is it?” asked Micki with worry in her voice. “Did you have sex with someone else? Did you cheat on him?”

Sherill shook her head rapidly. “No, of course not. It was when my horns and tail grew in. Oh! I’m not showing them in here. I was worried—worried about what you might think.”

The lanky young girl passed a hand over herself and changed. Now Sherill had small, dark horns poking through her hair, and her ears were different; covered with dark brown fur, poking up from the top of her head, shaped somewhere between a rabbit’s and a cow’s. A short, furry tail poked out from one side of her swimsuit.

This girl should really wear a bikini, thought Micki. She’s got the body for it. Her teeth looked a little different, too—her lower canines protruded like small, cute tusks.

“Cute tail!” said Micki, waving her own.

“Wow…” said Sherill. “I can’t move mine anything like that… Um, what was I saying?”

“Even when your horns and tail grew in, Vic…”

Sherill sighed happily. “He still loved me and made sure I knew it.” Sherill paused and bit her lip. “He was so patient with me; I had never been with a guy before. He was very gentle—even though he must have seen how different I was becoming. But he kept loving me, no matter what.”

Micki felt her curiosity spark, scenting a whiff of desire. “He didn’t mind a girl with a little extra, it sounds like?”

“Not at all! In fact, it turned him on a little.” Sherill blushed and giggled. “It was so good to feel… desired, you know?”

Micki’s curiosity grew, her instinctive hunger prickling. “Of course I know! Tell me more about him, would you? Taller than you, or shorter?”

Sherill’s brow wrinkled; she seemed to consider something weighty for a moment. Then she spoke with determination: “Not taller than me; not shorter either. Just right.” She stared off into space for a moment.

“He had beautiful light-blue eyes; they reminded me of a summer sky—so clear and bright.” Another pause. “When I first met him at the bus stop we both shared, he was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans; I couldn’t help but notice how well built he was underneath. When we went out to dinner, he wore a suit jacket and tie but rolled the sleeves up above his elbows and unbuttoned the collar. He was such a gentleman, but never stuffy.”

This sounded like an interesting man indeed. “Well built, you say? Go on. You know, the succubus-level details.” Micki stretched on the towel, feeling her joints pop and her toes reach the sand.

Sherill smiled at her knowingly. “You mean like the way he smelled? Like fresh cut grass or something like that?” Sherill took a breath. “His smell was amazing. He wasn’t musky or sweaty or anything like that. It was almost sweet—like freshly mown hay or flowers.” As Sherill spoke, she unconsciously rubbed her arms against sides, shifting. “When he kissed me,” she added quietly, “I could taste it on my tongue.”

“When you’re young, you don’t realize how much stronger guys are getting, right? He wasn’t huge, but he had muscles.” Micki closed her eyes, listening to Sherill’s soft voice. “Vic liked to show them off; even when we were just going on walks together around town, he’d go shirtless occasionally, if it was warm enough.”

Micki’s tensed her own muscles, feeling her tail quiver. The workouts were paying off, even in dreams.

“Nice abs?” Micki asked.

Sherill nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Never quite had a six-pack, but well-defined abs. I always thought bulky men’s shoulders looked like rocks from behind. Not him! His back was just… nicely toned.” Sherill started running her arms up and down her legs. “He also had these great thighs. So thick—I’d never seen legs that strong before.”

Now Micki was excited. “Blonde, or brunette?”

“Ohhhh, dark brown hair; deep brown eyes, too. Nice nose and strong jawline, kind of… noble looking, like a prince or something. He keeps himself clean-shaven, but not meticulously. I love his warm smile.” Sherill hesitated again before adding: “I think his cock was the biggest I’ve ever seen.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

Sherill is a lucky girl, Micki thought. She squirmed a bit on the towel, feeling like she was going to sneeze. Her clit was throbbing… wait, she thought. Is it getting bigger? No, that must be my tail.

“His voice was so beautiful when he told me he loved me. Deep and mellow, a baritone I think.” Sherill shook her head. “It was like music in tune with my soul; the sound made me feel safe and calm.”

Micki imagined a man’s body next to her own—a man like this Vic, or her very own John Hayes. A broad chest pressed against her breasts, muscular arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him while he kissed her deeply. She could feel those arms… toned and heavy alongside her sinewy waist, thick and muscular. Wait, what?

“Sherill, are you—” Micki stopped, startled. Her voice was deep, mellifluous, just the sort of voice Sherill had just described. Suddenly she realized: she was transforming and hadn’t even noticed! She scrambled onto her hands and knees, suddenly thrown off balance by how much larger her limbs were. Her flesh rippled with muscles, her chest flattening and broadening as her nipples shrank.

“I-is everything okay?” Sherill stammered.

Micki felt like crying; there was no way she could hide her change from this innocent girl any longer. “I-I-I’m transforming!” Micki gasped, her voice bellowing. Her breasts had vanished, replaced by muscular pectorals. Her ass still felt tight, but her larger frame was stretching the white bikini bottom, and inside the thin fabric she could see the growing bulge of a penis—no wonder she’d felt her clit throbbing.

“You look—you look just like—” Sherill stammered, before stopping herself. Micki stood up, as tall as Sherril now. Her tail had vanished.

“Did you do this to me, Sherill? Or did I—wait, did I change because you were telling me? Oh, God.” Micki moaned and fell to her knees in front of Sherill. Her cock was twitching, growing; she felt testicles drop into her scrotum.

Sherill was speaking. “Of course, Vic didn’t have horns or red skin. He was tan and beautiful, with just a bit of curly chest hair.” Micki stared at her hands, watching the color change and fade. “I mentioned his powerful hands already, and I guess he must have been about size 12 in the shoes.”

Micki kept changing. “Hey! Sherill… why are you doing this?” she demanded, sounding like the hot, masculine teenage boy she now looked like. “This isn’t right. You know this is wrong; stop this.”

They locked eyes. Micki’s face was changing—she was becoming more handsome, rugged. Sherill’s expression hardened. “I get to be happy too,” she said. “Don’t you want to make me happy, Vic?”

Micki froze. Vic? That’s right. His name was Vic. He was at the beach with his girlfriend, where they could be alone. He turned to Sherill, a huge grin breaking across his face. “Oh my God,” he whispered to himself. “Sherill… where have you been?”

He was wearing a bathing suit, too. It was black. He wasn’t quite naked yet. But he would be soon enough, if his throbbing desire for his girlfriend had anything to say.

“Yes!” Sherill squealed happily. “Vic, you’re here!”

“Babe,” Vic said with an eager smile. “I’m here, and nobody else is… nobody to care about those cute ears of yours, that hot little tail. Can we, uh…”

Vic leaned forward and took hold of her hand. Sherill’s face lit up like a Christmas tree; she squeezed back. Their fingers interlocked as they walked down the sand together. Not far away, they found a small cabana, lit by the fading evening sun.

Vic sat down on a cushion and beckoned Sherill forward. “Come here, foxy.” The girl smiled broadly and curled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re mine now,” he whispered to her. “No one can take you from me.”

“I am yours forever,” Sherill promised with another toothy grin. “And you’re mine. All mine.” She reached out to touch his swimsuit, where it darkened at the crotch; not from sweat or water, but from something stickier. She reached out and touched the fabric over his bulge with a finger. “What’s this?”

“Oh… that happens when a guy is like, really, really into a girl. It’s pre-cum.” Vic strained and adjusted himself. Sherill stared at the outline of his erection pressing against his trunks. “If you keep rubbing, it will go away… soon enough.”

Sherill nodded enthusiastically. She slipped her hand into his swimsuit, then gently pulled his cock out, stroking the side of her palm along his shaft until a few more drops of pre-cum oozed out of his tip. “I remember this… it’s been a while since we were… together.”

“We’re together now!” Vic’s tone was eager and aroused. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Sherill giggled; she loved his voice so much. “All right—let’s get you all the way out of that swimsuit. It’s obviously too tight.” With that, she grabbed the sides of the waistband and pulled downward hard. As she yanked, the elastic band snapped, and the material tore open in front. She tugged harder and ripped the suit apart completely. There was nothing left between Vic and her; his cock bobbed free, thick and erect.

“Oh my god,” Sherill breathed with awe. “Your cock is so sexy.” She wrapped her hand around it gently and stroked upward from the base to the swollen head. She marveled at how soft it felt at the top. Vic gasped, letting out a shuddering breath. His every dream coming true.

“Fuck it,” Sherill yelled. “Let’s do this.” She pulled off her own swimsuit, stepping out of it as fast as she could. She shivered with excitement; her nipples stood up, rock hard. She kissed Vic passionately on the lips, just once. Then she put her mouth over his cock and forced it deep into her throat.

Vic moaned deeply with pleasure as Sherill pulled back, then worked her way down the shaft with her lips and tongue. “Oh god, Sher… don’t stop, that’s so fucking good!”

As she licked and slurped, Sherill gagged on his penis but kept going anyway, sucking like crazy until she finally had her fill. She looked up at Vic, lifting her mouth away from him. “Tell me what you want now, lover boy.”

Vic looked down at her and grinned. “My dick is throbbing so bad—I need to have you now.” He reached down and lifted her up onto his lap. Her pussy pressed against his thigh. Sherill didn’t even hesitate; she grabbed hold of the base of his shaft and guided it to her opening. As soon as she felt his tip slip past her entrance, she cried out loudly in ecstasy. “Fuck yes! Oh shit, fuck!”

Then his massive cock impaled her all the way to the hilt. Sherill let out a long groan of relief, so glad to be filled with such a beautiful man. She began rocking back and forth on his shaft like there was no tomorrow. “That feels so fucking amazing,” Sherill panted. “It’s like you’ve always been there, the perfect fit.”

Vic looked as if he couldn’t even talk, so overwhelmed was he with pleasure. Every thrust of his cock sent ripples of delight through his body. Sherill could tell he was getting close to orgasm. She moved faster and faster—she needed to come, too. Finally, she screamed with joy and climaxed wildly around his cock. Her muscles spasmed and squeezed his member tightly; she trembled with intense pleasure.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Vic’s face twisted with agony and ecstasy as he grunted and groaned in time with every pulse of his cock inside her.

Yael came around the side of the cabana. “What the FUCK are you doing, Micki Belmont?”

Vic was still spurting cum into Sherill’s cunt as he turned to look at the succubus. “Huh? Who are you? Wait… you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m your friend,” Yael snarled. “And I still have dibs on the body you’re messing with. This may be a dream, but do you realize what you’ve done by absorbing this girl’s—” she narrowed her eyes at Sherill.

Vic shook his head. “Sherill, this isn’t a real person. It’s just an illusion. The only thing that matters is us, our love.”

Yael scoffed. “Who are you, girl? What did you do to her self-perception?” Sherill stood up, looking alarmed and holding her swimsuit over her naked body.

“This is my girlfriend Sherill,” Vic said quickly. “Now get out of here! We don’t want you here!” Sherill was shaking, clearly scared of the wine-red demoness.

“Girlfriend? Girlfriend?” Yael laughed. “Hardly. This is the baku from next door? That explains a few things, except—” she sniffed the air. “She’s not a baku at all.”

Abruptly, Sherill’s face lost its fearful expression. She sneered, a nasty snarl curling her lip. “What would you know, you old hag? Succubus filth. Get thee hence.”

Yael smiled. “Oh, dear me. You’re that other one. Sister Mary Elizabeth? What are you, exactly? Hailing from the old school, are we?”

Vic looked back and forth between the two women, confused. “Sherill? What’s going on?”

Sherill turned towards him, her face somehow different in the fading light. Rounder, older. “With the gift of thy seed, I lock thee and bind thee by thy name: Micki Belmont. This now is thy form, awakened by my desire. You may not slip into the shade of night, succubus, nor ride the desire of another.”

As the woman began the last sentence, Yael had screamed and rushed at Sherill, who was growing smaller, plumper. The woman seemed to step aside and out of Yael’s way, leaving the succubus flailing.

Micki shook her head, coming to herself again. What the fuck happened to me? She stared down at her unexpectedly brawny male body. “What is this?! Who did you turn me into?”

Sherill grinned back at her. Her face was recognizable now: Sister Mary Elizabeth, not a teenager at all. “You are being prepared, vessel. You are my Adonis, an excellent form for a demon of desire.” She reached out to touch Micki’s strong, stubbly jawline.

Micki slapped her hand away, then hurried toward Yael. “This is crazy! Is this part of Spencer’s plan?”

Yael growled. “You fool. You let her lock you into this shape. That will make you vulnerable! I need to explain—”

Mary Elizabeth’s gaze snapped towards Yael. She had a matronly figure now, pleasingly plump curves bulging inside of Sherill’s swimsuit. "We have no need of explanations, demon. I declare this dream concluded; our host, young Miss Kincaid herself, is about to wake. So must you, Micki Belmont! Awaken, the dawn comes! I summon you now to the light, Father Michael Belmont."

The motherly woman glared at both of them with a malevolent grin. "Or perhaps we should call you... Mick?"