Slutanomics

By Gregor Daniels

Ever since the activation of his slut gene Michael's had to live two different lives. In one he's a male university student at the top of his class with a crush on his Psychology professor Ms. Andrews, and in the other he's her lesbian lover. While his girl-half loves to prance around in short skirts and skimpy underwear, there's one hard fact he's had to learn: it ain't easy being a slut.

Length: 14,600 words

This work of fiction contains adult material and explicit scenes with erotic descriptions. Themes include gender transformations, body part changes, overwhelming desires for fornication, and other perverted fantasies. For mature audiences only. All characters over 18 years old.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregor Daniels
• Release date: Jul 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370141142

Gregor Daniels

Gregor Daniels is an erotica author that specializes in gender swap and erotic transformation fetishes. New stories are typically released weekly and feature a variety of themes. Have you ever had fantasies to be a girl? Then look no further ...Contact the author directly on Twitter to discuss stories, share your favorite ideas and fantasies, scenes, and characters, or to just talk about nothing in particular.

Book preview

Slutanomics

By Gregor Daniels

Other stories in this universe:

The Slut Gene

Copyright © 2016 Gregor Daniels—published at Smashwords

All rights reserved.

Only ADULTS beyond this point.

All characters are 18 years of age or older.

Turning into a slut once per day keeps the doctor away.

The students poured out at half past three. Ms. Andrews usually stayed longer to tidy up the auditorium, grade papers in her office, respond to faculty e-mails, what have you. She had to be finished around twenty-five after four, out of the parking lot at thirty after, pulling into her driveway no later than ten minutes till five.

At five o’clock sharp was a very important meeting, and not the kind with the television to watch the season finale of The Bachelorette; you couldn’t just set the DVR. At five o’clock was pussy licking.

I considered, several times actually, about telling Ms. Cynthia Andrews that I was a man—at least born a man. She wouldn’t believe me, not until I showed her the truth, but I couldn’t imagine anything short of a heart attack happening from that. It wasn’t everyday that you saw someone change from female to male right in front of your eyes. A stage magician might’ve called me out for using mirrors, or pretty assistants, or practicing demonic witchcraft, but it was none of that. Honest.

I was just a little different than the average person. In the words of Lady Gaga, I was Born This Way.

We made it to the bedroom on the first date, when we were still feeling things out, getting to know each other, expressing our true desires. That went out the window shortly after. Now it was love in the living room, or love in the kitchen, or love in the front seat of her sedan, depending on how long we could keep our clothes on. On this day she pulled me to the sofa, undressed to her undergarments. I went to my knees as she spread her legs, revealing black thong panties that said KEEP CALM AND LICK PUSSY on the front. She was already wet—the black underwear revealed little, but I felt the moisture accumulating when my fingers brushed across her pussy, pressing against her hot mound, the fabric soaking it up like a sponge.

Michelle, she murmured, moaning, how in the world was a perfect specimen like you created?

Our relationship wasn’t started by pure happenstance. I was one of her students—yeah, the student-teacher relationship, not the smartest way to find the love of your life, or the most sustainable. But I had a trick, an ace up my sleeve to keep this affair a secret. Michelle was only my other half, my female half. In her classroom I was absent a pair of tits and had something extra between my legs. Not such a dangerous game, you see. Michelle was off the radar, a woman that technically didn’t exist, and I could put her on like a set of clothes, become Ms. Andrews’s lesbian dream girl whenever I desired it.

But this wasn’t all about banging one of my college professors with absolute anonymity. I fucking loved being a girl, too.

She yanked the panties aside, exposing her beautiful femininity, but this wasn’t the zoo; I wasn’t there to observe, to watch these exotic creatures from behind safety glass. Cynthia beckoned me with a finger and her scent, her sweet scent, a scent that I had dreamed about and afterward woken up to a finger in my own pussy. I went in, my tongue already extending, ready to taste. And today she tasted mighty fine.

You don’t stop until I come, she said, and she meant it.

That was fine by me. Her house, her rules.

I didn’t know Cynthia was a lesbian, not right away. It’s not one of my gifts, to see girls and instantly know they’re lesbians. Maybe I can switch my sex at will, but everyone still wears a mask. I found her on a dating website after plugging in some generic search terms about girls desiring same-sex relationships within a radius of fifteen miles from my location. And there she was with a profile picture and some paragraphs about what she was looking for in another girl. She was after