This choice: The White Mage trying to revive you • Go Back...Chapter #3The White Mage trying to revive you by: SwappaWappa   There was little thought occurring inside your mind at that moment, for chaos had enraptured it, and panic seemed to have no desire to settle. Your ghostly sensations were far too sensitive for you to understand or get used to, with every person your spirit floated near, there was a strange and intense pull toward them, the only thing stopping you from falling into them being your hesitance to just push, ever so slightly. You saw your body lying on the ground through the crowd, after fighting the urge for your wispy form to enter into one of the random bodies around you as it was so hungry for a return to the world where it belonged, vulnerable without a shell, and felt another, new pull. Believing the pull to be coming from your own laid out corpse, you accepted it finally and made the appropriate step forward to let yourself fall in. Only your soul took a slight detour on its path to your body, and instead accidentally slipped inside of the White Mage nearby ardently trying to restore you to life, unaware that that would come at the cost of her becoming your vessel.
In you went! You couldn't stop yourself now, your soul was filling her body, fast. There was a jolt, a shiver, a groan and a stifled yelp, the noise becoming silent quick upon full entrance, stepping through that door. Once liquid spilled out across the floor, this mage had accidentally scooped you up and let you into her tight, buxom container; and you felt just how tight it was, and just how buxom it was, as soon as sensations returned, that heavy weight upon your chest making you fall forward slightly, your thin waist that your new hands were sat atop a completely foreign and unusual design of your form compared to what you were used to. Those smooth hands came to your eyes immediately and you saw beneath that long white robe that slipped down to your elbows a pair of pale, smooth feminine and dainty arms that were weak, different, and, to be frank, lovely. A finger rolled up one of them, gently, your girly nails scratching your girly skin so softly; was it perhaps because you had, as a spirit, for a split second forgot what touch felt like that your senses were so much stronger, that your skin turned to gooseflesh by the subtle scrape of that nail, or was it something this body felt all the time? And the silk of that long dress against your body was almost too much for you to bear all at once; every movement, and every jiggle, for this body certainly did, you felt the fabric hug you and caress you, almost lovingly, like it belonged onto your form and did not wish to leave, enticing you as much as possible with the kindness and sensuality of its touch.
Your hands came to your face and you felt the roundness of your soft, smooth cheeks and the absence of stubble immediately came to mind. You were a beautiful lady now and you felt just as such when your fingers rubbed gently against that beautifully shaped jaw, the bone beneath bending in a way that you could feel made the feminine details of your new head. Then your felt the plushness of your girly lips, their eternal pout. As equally voluptuous as the rest of this form; they bent into a perfect shape, roads made by ambitious architects hoping to craft both a beautiful piece of decoration, as well as a path too to a kiss worthy to none, but tempting to all. You bit them nervously, a testament to your undeserving, invasive soul now controlling something that was not yours, for a soul matching the complexion of the face it wore would never have wished to perhaps perform damage to its perfection. But here you were! Biting away, looking at the crowds staring at you with a vivacious ferocity capable only by the fantastic glimmer those stolen eyes of yours performed accidentally, and not by your intention, for you were far too worried internally to look as pretty as you did on the outside purposefully. Glimmer they did, and they didn't ever dim, even as your mind did when you used them to look down further at your body and you became squeamish by the protruding cleavage in front.
It was already strange to have breasts, and even stranger to have big breasts - breasts the size of your head both old and new, but the strangest of all was how you were showing them off to everyone practically, as soon as you got them, your robe the body's previous owner decided to adorn having a convenient window above your chest to let those mounds of flesh appear, prominent and perky. You stopped yourself at first, breathed, but then as they heaved, you had to; your new hands dove to cup them and there they sat, those two perfect tits becoming soft between your dainty fingers. The cleavage rose as you pushed them up and you bit your lip even more as you felt a fullness, that felt more like a hunger than anything else, arise at the lower pits of your stomach. As the feeling emerged and lingered, it took possession of more parts of your new female body, particularly your groin; you were becoming aroused, and female arousal was unique indeed. You squeezed them, before letting them go, telling yourself to discipline your mind, only for your hands to fall further down your body, moving inwardly toward the flatness of your toned stomach, feeling the way your figure curved perfectly. Then your hands moved further apart for they were forced to by the widening of those hips, and in their endless search of new sensation, they couldn't help but come across the plump rear that your hips took them to, eagerly. So too were your fingers eager when they pushed into the fatness of your bottom; round, peachy, full. A perfection addition to your perfect body, though your imperfect soul still felt like an intruder.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" An old man nearby asked, touching your dainty shoulder.
"Ngh," you moaned, gently, coming back to reality and falling back in response to his touch, feeling your bouncy body move too. This would've become an uncomfortable focus on your mind, the way everything about you moved all at once with the simplest change in position, if it weren't for the fact that you were overcome with shock by the feminine voice that emerged from your thin neck and that tight feeling throat that your hands rubbed curiously away at in shock.
You turned to him and swallowed, taking one last look at your new form, it's shapely fullness still all there, to your excitement, and your dismay, all at once.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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