The Sleepover - Part 5

 

As Billy got himself ready for bed that evening, he couldn't stop thinking about "Erica" in his mother’s skirt and blouse and how the lady at the ticket counter had barely looked at them before selling them a pair of R-rated tickets. He couldn't believe how convincing Fred had been, how he’d pulled it off so perfectly. Fred had even done the talking, his voice higher, pretending to be Billy’s older cousin, saying she’d promised to take him to the movies for his birthday. Billy had been so nervous he thought he’d blow their cover by giggling, but they’d gotten away with it. 

Now, in the dim light of his bedroom, the exhilaration of the day played over and over in his mind. Billy could hardly wait to try again. He thought about what else they could do, how far they could push it.

Erica had paid for the popcorn out of Fred’s allowance money, and nobody had raised an eyebrow at her. He wondered what it would be like to have a job as Erica, to buy more clothes and candy, and maybe even a video game console. He imagined the two of them passing the mask around and doing whatever they wanted.

Billy couldn’t sleep. His eyes fell on the backpack.

He reached over and unzipped it, the mask a ghostly tangle of rubber and hair in the dark.

He put it on.

He felt the surge, the thrilling rush of change. The mask became flesh, and his body stretched, expanded, transformed before his eyes. His pajamas pulled tight, so tight he could barely breathe. He slipped out of them, his new body curvier and more complete this time. 

The changes were fast. Seamless. 

His spine tingled. Billy looked at his new form in awe. 

His hair fell in waves, his chest already straining against his t-shirt. He didn’t care. It was amazing. 

His hands roamed over “Erica," and he marveled at the tangible reality of it all, the way his fingers felt brushing against his own skin, his own new flesh. He squeezed, groped, tracing the outline of his grown-up body with urgent curiosity. He touched his breasts, amazed by the softness, the give, the incredible sensation. He ran his hands down his stomach, exploring the newness of every curve. His laughter filled the room, breathless and wild, the sound different, thrilling. He was intoxicated by the transformation, by the strange wonder of becoming someone else, a different kind of self. 

“I’m a woman!” he kept saying, over and over, the words a breathless exclamation, “I’m a real woman!” 

He couldn’t believe it, the excitement almost too much to handle. He rubbed at his legs, even his feet were different, like a stranger’s but not. He reached back, feeling the swell of his butt, the new shape of it, pressing and squeezing. Every part of him was changed, new and startling to the touch. They had talked about doing this, but Billy couldn’t have imagined it would feel so crazy. So wonderful.

His hands found her vagina, and a shock went through him. He hesitated, then touched again, the sensation impossibly intense. He’d only just discovered masturbation recently, as he hit puberty. But this! This was something else.

He moved his fingers inside of “Erica” and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Like nothing he’d ever imagined, in his wildest dreams.

Billy gasped, the pleasure making him dizzy, “Oh my God!”

It was all he could say, the words coming out softer, higher, the voice of a woman who sounded nothing like Billy.

Billy closed his eyes, surrendering to the newness of it, to the incredible feeling of being someone else, something else, and not wanting it to end.

He moaned, breathier and breathier until—

The alarm rang.

Billy woke up, disoriented, the morning light spilling into the room.

He looked at his body.

Still Erica.

Still a grown woman.

He’d forgotten to take it off.

His heart pounded as the rush of last night came back to him. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep like this. What if his mom came in and saw?

He reached up to the back of his neck and found the seam. 

His fingers scrambled to peel the mask off. 

Nothing happened.

Billy tried again, panic rising. Maybe it was harder to get off after wearing it for so long. Maybe…

He felt a rush of relief as the seam finally pulled away, separating from his skin with a soft sucking noise.

He was a boy again. 

Billy held the mask in his trembling hands, the residue of the change still buzzing through him. 

He hid it in his backpack and pulled on a pair of jeans.

He looked at himself in the mirror. Nothing but Billy. A regular school-age boy.

He went downstairs, trying to act normal, hoping the transformation hadn’t left any marks on him. 

His mom was in the kitchen, making breakfast. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” she said. 

“Morning,” Billy mumbled, pouring himself some cereal and trying to sound the same as ever.