Who Are You Calling a Slut?

"You fucker! Now I'm going to have to take another shower," I chided my roommate. "Plus, you know that won't count towards my total."

Tom didn't offer much sympathy. "Oh, don't give me that. You know I can't resist seeing my jizz all over your face. I'm pretty sure you enjoy it too." Admittedly, he wasn't wrong about that. I had learned quite a bit about myself over the past three weeks.

I should back up a little. Three weeks ago, Tom and I were out at the club when I started hitting on this girl in a low-cut dress that barely covered her cooter. It wasn't a lesbian club or anything; I was actually a guy at the time. Crazy, right? Anyways, this girl was not picking up what I was laying down. I should have let it go, but she was super hot. Eventually, I spat out, "If you're going to dress like a slut, you really ought to act like one." A careful observer might identify that as the point where things went wrong for me.

I knew immediately that I was in trouble. She walked up to me and said, "You ought to be careful who you call a slut, slut." At the time, it seemed like a strange comeback. Nonetheless, I couldn't shake the image of her sinister grin from my mind the rest of the night.  Tom had witnessed the whole thing and thought it was hilarious.  I ended up leaving early and going straight to bed.

When I woke up, it took all of four seconds to realize something was very wrong. I had hair in my face and something jiggling on my chest. I'm not proud of this, but after lifting my shorts to confirm my impossible fears, I let out the loudest, girliest scream you've ever heard. Tom, being a person with functioning ears, burst through the door to see what was going on. Instinctively, I pulled up the sheets to hide my foreign body. "Woah, sorry, I uh, didn't know Kyle came home with anyone last night. I didn't mean to-- uh, hey, where is Kyle? And what the hell happened to all his stuff?"

Taking a moment to look beyond my own body, I realized that my entire room had changed. I saw blouses and dresses filling my closet, bras and panties spilling out of my laundry, and at least a dozen pairs of women's shoes lined up by the door. "Dude, I am Kyle! I don't know what happened, I just woke up like this!" Tom raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Nice try, sister. I know Kyle's been slacking on the gym lately, but I think I would have noticed if he was sporting a set of boobs like that." It was then that I spotted the letter on my nightstand.

Good morning, slut!
Remember that girl you insulted last night? Turns out she's a witch! I was awfully mad about what you said and figured you should learn a lesson about calling people names. You're going to find out what it really means for a girl to be a slut. Over the next 30 days, you'll have to get 30 guys to cum inside you in order to go back to your old life. Any guy, any hole -- slutty girls like you aren't picky. If you fail to reach that number in time, you get to stay this way forever!

I immediately felt sick to my stomach. How could she expect me to get with a guy once, let alone 30 times? I showed Tom the letter and spent the next hour convincing him it was all true, doing the whole "things only Kyle would know" routine. Eventually, he seemed satisfied. "Ok, assuming that I'm ready to believe this... What now?" Good question. I had barely wrapped my head around it myself. "Well, clearly I'm not going to do this. I'll... I'll go back to the club tonight and hope she's there again. Then I'll apologize and beg her to change me back."

I threw on a baggy sweater and camped out in my room the rest of the day. I thought it was a decent plan until it was time to go out. I realized the bouncer would never let me in unless I looked the part. Either fortunately or unfortunately, my wardrobe now contained no shortage of outfits perfectly suited for clubbing. By the time I was done, I swear my boobs were sticking out a foot in front of me, my ass kept threatening to peek out below my dress, and there was enough paint on my face to fill a canvas. A final check of the mirror confirmed I looked every bit the slut I was supposed to be.

I was embarrassed at first when Tom offered to go with me, but I was grateful when we arrived and I felt every set of male eyes staring in my direction. We searched the dance floor for the girl I'd offended, but ended the night empty-handed. Back at the apartment, Tom did his best to console me. "Hey, sorry tonight was a bust, no pun intended. You want a beer?" After spending the last few hours in heels, kicking back with a beer sounded perfect. One beer turned into several, and I found myself sitting closer and closer to Tom on the couch.

Eventually, he turned to me. "You know... if we can't find that witch again, you're probably going to have to do what she said to turn back." The thought had crossed my mind, though I wasn't sure where he was going with this. Avoiding eye contact, he continued, "Well, since I know what's going on, and we're friends, I'd be, uh, willing to help you out." Oooohhhh, there it was. I started reaming him out. "Wooow, you would do that for me? As a favor? I can't believe you'd be willing to get your dick wet, just to help me out!"

I turned to storm off, but the combination of alcohol, sore feet, and an unfamiliar center of gravity resulted in me tripping directly into Tom's crotch. There, face-to-bulge with my new greatest fear, it was like a switch flipped in my brain. I started reasoning, "Although, there's not much sense in putting it off. I need to do it eventually. You're here, I'm here, no one needs to know..." My mouth started watering, until I couldn't take it any more and instinct took over. In seconds I had unzipped Tom's pants and taken his semi-hard dick in my mouth. Feeling it expand in my mouth sent a shiver down my spine. By the sound of things, Tom approved of the way my bright red lips eagerly wrapped around his shaft. It didn't take long before the telltale signs began and Tom's salty cum exploded down my throat.

Once I'd crossed the threshold of that first blowjob, there was no turning back. My count stands at 18: mostly with Tom, a few with random guys. With only 10 days to go, I really can't afford to waste any opportunities if I'm going to make the deadline. Of course, I might already be there if I didn't keep having them pull out and finish on my face, tits, and ass. That's ok though, I still have plenty of time, right?