EXTRACT FOR
I Stole My Boss's Body!
(Veronica Sloan)

There was hair on her chest! She grabbed her rock-hard pectorals and realized her boobs were gone. Her forearms were thick with muscle. Her legs bristled with hair. And between her thighs...



"Oh wow," she murmured. She had a penis. And it was awake.



Sasha trembled as the cock stared back at her with its one slitted eye. The head was bulbous, like a rubbery crown, and its ruddy skin was almost purple in the morning darkness. Tentatively, she reached for it, and jerked when her fingertips brushed the shaft. It was sensitive! "Oh..." she breathed. It was definitely hers. Sasha wrapped her fingers around the shaft and gently pulled it to the side. She felt new muscle down in her pelvis, and the luscious pleasure of stroking away its stiffness.



Sasha gazed at the thick vein that ran down the side of her penis, into a trimmed thatch of black pubic hair. It was not the prettiest cock she'd ever seen--in fact, it was fair to say it was ugly--but it was wider and meatier than most she'd encountered. It was an impressive specimen.



Sasha squirmed on the mattress every time she moved it, but she couldn't stop exploring. The foreskin was mottled in places, just like any patch of skin, but its erection made it bloom a healthy red. And it moved! She watched it pulse with the beat of her heart. As she moved it, she felt the organ pulsate with pleasure. And there was also... Sasha reached down to cup her hairy balls. "Shit..." she whispered. It felt good when she touched them. She squeezed her scrotum as she had her shaft, and immediately regretted it. "Ow!" she yelped.



How had this happened? She slid from the bed in the unknown apartment--no, it was bigger than an apartment--and searched for a mirror. As she stumbled towards the bathroom, she realized she was taller than before. She was over six feet. Hell, she towered over the furniture!



She padded into the bathroom on her hairy feet and slammed the light switch. She screamed when she saw Trent in the mirror. He was naked, and staring back at her with the stupidest look on his face. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.



Her jaw dropped. Her eyes bugged out of her skull. She slid her fingers over her cheek and the sandpaper rough stubble that grew there. "Oh no..." she said. Her heart pounded in her chest (in her finely sculpted chest, she had to admit). Her cock bobbed below her waist like a snake struck by rigor mortis. "Oooooh!" she growled at the uncomfortable thing. "Go away!" she hissed. "I can't deal with this right now. Go down!" The pressure was right behind her balls--even as far back as her stomach. She grabbed the shaft and angrily squeezed it.



"Oh!" she gasped, and bent double. It was like brushing her clitoris.



She leaned against the bathroom counter, her cock still gripped in her hand. "Go down," she ordered it. But it didn't listen. She tried flexing her new muscles, but none of them seemed to control the penis. "Damn it," she gasped, when she squeezed it again. "How do I? How does it...?" But she knew. It was obvious.