Page 100 of Every Shade of Shadow

"This may feel strange," he warns, slicing his palm. Blood drips into a silver chalice as he continues the enchantment.

My body tingles, then burns, as if remolding itself into a new shape. I gasp at the unfamiliar sensations, both painful and pleasurable, coursing through me.

And then all hell breaks loose.

I scream aloud, my bones shifting, my skin seeming to stretch and pull—the very fabric of my being torn apart and pieced back together while I lie prone and helpless.

I close my eyes, willing it to stop.

I scream until my jaw aches, gripping the sides of the table.

But just as fast as the pain comes, it’s gone.

My eyes flutter open.

I stare at myself—no, at him—in disbelief, seeing my own body and face looking back at me. And between my legs...

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

I reach down to grasp my new appendage, hard and throbbing.

My thumb brushes over the glans, an arrowhead of sensation pulsing through me.

The Professor explores his own female body, my body, a wicked smile crossing his stolen lips as he brings his hands up underneath his breasts, weighing them with amusement.

I grip his cock, reveling in the hardness of it, the heat of it in my fist. He groans as I do, the sound incongruous coming from my mouth.

"How does it feel, little lamb?" he questions, in my own higher, singsong pitch, sending a fresh flush of heat through my new body.

"Powerful," I say, giving my cock an experimental stroke. Pleasure jolts through me as I suck in a sharp breath. "And sensitive. I had no idea..."

He laughs, a breathy sound, and wraps my hand tighter around his girth, “like this,” showing me how to touch him. I mimic the movements, swiping my thumb over the head, squeezing at the base, tugging in slow, drawn-out strokes.

"Yes, like that," he whispers. "You learn quickly."

His own hand has descended between his lips, fingers sawing together in the hot dark there.

I rise up to capture his mouth, my mouth, our lips and tongues tangling together. Whereas the Professor tastes of spice, of the forbidden, what I taste now is sweeter, almost gratingly so. My lips are so much softer. Breaking away with a gasp, I ask in the Professor’s deep baritone, "What else can this body of yours do?"

He shifts onto the table, positioning his/my body on his knees, my own ass before me, my own pussy open and wet.

“You should be well versed in this part, my pet.”

This is so unbelievably weird.

I position myself on the table, still getting used to the sheer bulk of this body, how every movement feels a bull in a China shop. How does he get around like this without destroying everything in his path?

But this is wrong, too. I’m not used to taking a position of power like this. I’m usually the submissive, after all.

Will this be like being pegged for him? Is it some strange fantasy of his? Maybe it’s not even a trial at all.

Still, anticipation thrums through me as I move behind my female body, running his hands over the curve of my ass, between my legs. I run an experimental finger inside, testing the slickness there.

Darkwood purrs in my voice, circling the clit between his legs with two, twined fingers. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," I breathe.

I grip the hips in front of me and reach down, angling the Professor’s cock against the waiting entrance in front of me, but it’s higher than I think, surprisingly difficult to find.

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