PanaMilk

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More Exposed than Ever

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My Own Goddess

“She’s cute… I wish I could be with her… maybe forever…”

Another 3am, another night spent with the glowing screen. I was drowsing, drowsing like I would be out of the world, wretched. A few sheets of note are scatter around my desk, waiting for me. The mind was almost blank except for her. Praying in the deep. This tab, this item on Amazon… It’d change my life. No, it’d take me to a life I’d never dreamt of. Reborn, maybe. In the mirror I now see the reflection of her body, my angel’s body… my body.

I am my own angel. 

She was an angel. An angel in my heart. An angel from my first sight of her – when I was in a corner, far from the teacher and other boys. Her pristine voice penetrated me from outside the wall I made with my notebook, carrying me from my seclusion to her heavenly face… Love at the first sight.

The face… it was softly pressed on my brain, coming up from time to time. Day after day, even with her sitting over the corner, lively and fluttering, I’d better be left alone. I gazed her from behind my books, her aura radiantly shining – with her best pals, alone, or barely away. Not a boy in class ever approached her. She wasn’t just a lowly angel, she’d be too sanctified to be molested! I wasn’t brave enough to ask this goddess out even if I wanted to make a girlfriend out of her.

“I wish I could be with her… maybe forever…” One day, the classroom was emptied, except for a daydreaming me. The day was almost gone. What were left were light breezes, a tilting sun and drips of dew. I dreamt of her, the sunlight all over her, halo-like. And as I dreamt, she was really there, standing over the whiteboard… gazing at me. The face she had, I didn’t know if she’d be cozy with me… And she left, leaving me behind. I wasn’t going to ask her. I couldn’t… What’d she say? Would she even accept me? Her flowing hairs, still glittering under the gilded light, drifted away. Her voice echoes on… If I couldn’t be with her, I’d better get her. Her mind and body… What if I could get a hold of both of them, not by catching her by surprise, but… something else? With her, I’d be god-like…

I’d like to be my own goddess. 


That dream was strange, just like what I thought at the end of it, but I no longer lied to myself. My heart throbbed and the blood gushed every time I remembered the time I dreamt about a girl that almost never existed. I vowed find a way to reach her someday, and that day came when I was holding a strange vial, half a grand apiece. But even with the damning eyes of my other friends (real or online) I was determined. I gulped the honey-colored liquid down, fully. 

The memories of the process are haphazard when I think about it, now that the flurry frenzy is long over. At once my mind was wavering, hopping out and in consciousness, and quite trippy for seconds. If there were real ascensions I would have experienced the of it. Pretty quickly, the whole room around me wasn’t the same stuffed place I knew for months. It was still deep in the night, but under the mystical grey veneer bright wall paint and a few pastel plushes. I fell into her place. 

Getting to the bathroom and lighting the dim lamp over me, the amber eyes I see in the mirror are hers. I used to imagine seeing, or even touching her in close. But this was something else altogether. My mind was now a permanent part of her, elevated, now joined with me in the past and for the future. 

“Gorgeous me…” my pajama’s bottom piece was slipping off my thighs, leaving one side with only hole into my lushly colored panties. Suggestive of my body’s decent figures, eh? The whole of that had a dim, heavenly aura to it. I’m lucky enough to start owning and appreciating this body, or just more proactive than anyone in claiming the girl for myself. The 2-pieces easily stripped off…

“Aha…!” Just as I smiled “her” face also smiled in the mirror. A few more weird faces, and even an ahegao, the face in the mirror did nothing but followed, with “her” fresh cheeks. Her flesh felt miraculously real. “Cute me…” I closed onto the mirror to meticulously glean over every spot of my spotless body. The nearer my face was to the mirror, the girl in the mirror leaned closer to me, until we made a “mwwwu” with my lips and the lips in the mirror… “me kissing myself, my girl and myself, one and the same…” I finally got the kiss her in the least imaginable way her potential boyfriends could can up with, and with the kiss we’d forget time passing. 

What would her – my parents think when they would wake up in the morning? The mark of my drool, all over the mark on the glass? I’d tasted her “forbidden fruit” (remembering what I said when I first admired the body) – why shouldn’t I “fall into earthliness”? “Show me everything you have on your body”, I murmured to myself… And my right hand reminded me of my places I could touch. “Mmm… soft boobs… so soft… aww so soft and gigantic…” I moaned sweetly and lustfully while I grabbed and rubbed my chest. I’ve brought a goddess’ flesh into reality… so serenely… and I couldn’t wait to see how lewd I’m easily capable of! As all the cushioning on the top went on two fingers snap inside… “Ah!” louder I cried when a lightning shocked through my body and numbed every part except the most enticed ones. So touchy and addictive… Down here my slim fingers ticked and harnessed my sexuality, slipping and clicking, mixed with my singsongy moans in the bathroom. “Great, awesome, honey…” Calling my old name I’d be more than amused at experiencing sex the first time, in this unknowable way. “keep entering and seeding in me, I’m so lovely… mmm, mmm, ahhh~” I didn’t need a boner to get her aroused, just her own fingers finding their way, and being both sides of sex this time burned more intensely on my head, totally blinding me. “Ah, Ah~” Ascension in a split second… fumes of heat and pulsated from where I was on the tiles, and over it (and at my fingertips too) I found puddles of “drool” coming from my second mouth - my “nectar”.


 
I only gained all her memories when I threw myself on the bed. Maybe if her mind was still around in my head, used to be hers, she’d be listening to all my lewd thoughts and be truly loving to who her body ended up with. 

The desk of my old self was empty the next day I entered my classroom. He’d finally found his goddess, and I’m finally with her forever, a perfect couple with my mind and her body.

No Futas?

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Crossdressing Woes

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Daydreaming with Skinsuits

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Only the Cats Knew

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Fake It Till You Make It

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Magical Bunny

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A Try at being a Bunny

A veiled moon lays low, outside the mansion...

The terse leggings on her poorly plushed legs are sliding again, like they are going to be left behind on the oily floor, even though they are fast strapped on her and pulled by the suit she’s wearing. But then, the suit is just as stuffy as she never expected when she first entered the gate of this dreamy place. Under the ebony leather, many dots of her own sweats are rubbed over her unprotected skin, lubricating the suit for stark but soft touches. Hot for the tensely-backed stretches hugged by the leather, and hotter for the two’s gazes. Strange sensations - she has never embraced the skin and flesh in this body before, let alone really doing anything titillating with it. But the diffusing excitement besides, this isn’t the best time to enjoy. They’ve got two particularly prized patrons to serve. And it starts among the orgies...

The dirty blonde beauty juggles a dish-sized plate among the clamoring mist of desire, towards the three faces she has seen so many times. Hesitating for a bit if the two bulges in front of her can support a roundel, the flashes of broken shards in her mind keep the glasses off her narrow cleavages and on the lightly spread hair of one of the laps. At least, the sound of shattering is replaced by chirps of two streams of a malt-yellow alcohol - like what we will always drink, hand on lap or not. Proficiency with her body. She has to learn the handling of this fresh body from her now blonde pal, who’s been through so many times of being the chick she is now. And look at their old bodies, who are just as fuming as they should have been. Is she, “Gina”, the only one out of place here? Like, any of those guests who’ll never guess so, complete with the blush?

“Ya know, he gotta get some unsober fun going~” being in that body, especially for months on end, makes her the real “Mel”: even the way she talks is the Mel “Gina” knows. Sweet, light lips. As Emil he’d never suspect Mel was not Mel and Chris not Chris. They never showed any sign of being “out of their character”, like someone you’ll see in fiction. Definitely being in a girl’s body gives you all the ways of coping with your body, ways to please the other sex and even the whole mindset! But not Emil, not yet. Having to talk like Gina, after all the intimate time with the real deal, gives her a stammer. “No worries, Gina. Ever seen the Mistress? Sure she had no for your sweating and huh-ings!” The first glass filled, the second half-full. “And she won’t mind for us to be who we secretly wanted to be, and even more for Cutie, yeah?” Hearing her or not, Tim’s eyebrows jolt with the remark, then signalling for another glass without words. 

“Get prepared, ‘Gina’,” “Emil” quickly nibs one of the leaves on her chest, "you never know how great they're doing like us now..." slowly penetrating under the shining leaf, down onto the modestly milked, and fondles the still-unsucked nipple. "This every night, months on end..." "Emil" reminds both of the pair, half intoxicated and slurring, still with half a mouthful of simmering beer on his tongue. "The beer, my finger, everything..." "Mel" goes on with cuddling and forcing her hand-moulded body onto her "boyfriend", his face crushing under the pair of h-cups. When the leather comes out, some ambiguously white foam are dripped over the polish. "Tim" would rather bury his head under the embrace of this pair, over her hourglass belly. The music in the background, between a whirlwind of piano and saxophone, clatters wildly.

"And so the eyes roll aside," "Emil" aptly quips. By now, even with the hands crossing over "Mel"'s waist, "Tim" would take a few looks on the girl at the pole, now and then. "Right at home here." All the bodies twisting so shapely, contorting and revealing all the feminine curves. Even "Mel" has joined and slithers her spine to the silent rhythm that is moving the pole dancer, fluttering. "Tim" needs more than the twists and grabs "Mel"'s ass, cushier than the pair of breasts he just smelled, and then thrusts her in place. “Gina” realizes, like her own “boyfriend”, they’re best served by her instead of the one already being the prize of “Tim’s”. Two more tall glasses later, the bottle is empty, and dutifully “Gina” ships the plate off the scene. Now, even “Mel” turns her head over to that dancer, barely pubescent, tying herself around the axis, the axis gaining almost all the attention in the pool for her to flex her joints. Her limbs are like the heads of snakes entangled and weaving together, meeting all the bewildered faces, and returned with even more gymnastics on a leather bikini. The couple, even “Emil”, would rather turn towards the marvel over a few glurps, than really be content just to be served.

Better served? Better served by her. A moment later, that little girl is dislodged by the side. From now on the metallic axis is Gina's. And everyone's eyes, some recognizing this chick, some not, is even more fervent in seeing every swing this new "hottie" might bring about. 

Emil was never the most athletic kid in the lot of college kids, and not even so, a few years after graduation. Gina has a hard time of thinking the right way to start moving. It's easier to be standing at the pole, watching all the greedily waiting eyes, than really taking her place for being an actual gymnast. But so naturally she starts raising one of her legs, and the leg, even though as sharp as a pen, is light enough for good movements. So quickly she lifts her petit torso off the ground, all her weight flinging around easily, and pretty soon she's waving her legs, making a T-pose with the lower limbs like a ballet in the air, all the private but covered part being on the top of the cheering crowd. A surprisingly easy start. Rolling her center of gravity back, a swirl later, she is making a perfect stretch of her legs right on the ground. 

Even Mel and her boyfriend is running to the stage, getting a better sight of Gina's newly gained proficiency. Great, the first steps of belonging here, Gina tells herself silently. Emil is already at the front of the crowd, so whenever Gina ends one of the throws or spins, clearer and clearer she thinks of what to do with the three of them, and more and more she realizes how many of the ways to please are in her muscle memory. She's gonna show who's the boss in sex. She'll drag the three of them one by one onto the platform, then act like what Emil did to her, until the stage is all wet…

Then her boyfriend, Emil, might just wishes the swap to be permanent for being so perfect. Great, who'll know? 

Maybe their dreams are in fruition, in this night of silhouettes... 

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