Trading Up

By Alyson Belle

Mike just can’t seem to keep himself out of trouble! After a close call at home, he’s more dependent than ever on his friends Amy and Kyla to get him out of trouble, but he can’t tell even them his biggest secret of all: that Christy Parker is blackmailing him to get back at her ex-boyfriend Chuck.

With Christy smearing Mikala’s name to the whole school and threatening to reveal Mike’s identity if he says a word to anyone, Mike is stuck between a rock and a hard place (a whole series of hard places). His only hope is to try to find some way to stop Christy before she ruins his life and turns him into the ultimate sex-crazed bimbo with nothing on her mind but her next Virtnet encounter.

But what can he do on his own? Chuck is as distant as ever He needs help, and he’s going to have to trust somebody if he doesn't want to spend the rest of his days working on his back in Virtnet...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alyson Belle
• Release date: Jun 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463069981

Alyson Belle

Alyson Belle is a bestselling romance and erom author who has had a passion for transformation and body swap stories for as long as she can remember. She now delights in sharing her passion with the world by writing some of the sexiest stories around. With Alyson in control, your hottest fantasy ever is always just a click away...~~~ Visit my site for a FIVE FREE BOOKS including a copy of Forbidden Flirtations, a sexy, sizzling-hot story you can only get on my website! ~~~ Copy and Paste URL: http://alysonbelle.com/free-books/

Book preview

An excerpt from Trading Up:

I’m afraid you’re collateral damage, Christy said. I can’t do anything to Chuck directly, but I can make sure to ruin his little slut for him.

Mikala clutched at Christy’s legs. Please, Christy...

Her mouth quirked again. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you enjoy it. Her eyes grew shaded and distant, like she was running through Virtnet commands in her head.

Mikala’s pussy convulsed suddenly, and she gasped. She fell forward and only barely caught herself on Christy’s thighs. Christy’s oh-so-smooth, velvety thighs. Her skin sang and danced wherever it touched Christy. Her clitoris thrummed and pulsed, begging for attention. She was gushing wet again.

What did you do? Mikala panted.

Sex drive at 400%. Inhibitions lowered. Higher order thinking suppressed. She winked at Mikala. I just made you even more of what you really are. An airheaded bimbo dying for anything and anyone to fuck her. Christy leaned in close and laid a finger on Mikala’s nose. And unless you do want me to tell everyone at school that Mike and Mikala are the same person, you’re going to come entertain me and my guests in Virtnet whenever I text you, from now on. Immediately. Slip up even once, and everyone will know exactly who’s inside of Mikala’s slip. Do you understand?

Mikala squirmed on her knees, flexing her thighs. Everything Christy was saying made sense, and it made her feel awful, but it was a dim, cloudy thought compared to just how badly she needed to be fucked right now. She was dying for anything to fill her pussy. She ran her hands up and down Christy’s legs. Yes. Yes, mistress, she said. Oh god... please, won’t you either give me some release or let me go? Her need was almost overpowering her.

I may as well break you in, Christy agreed. Have you ever been fucked by a girl? She ran some more commands, and a huge, thick cock spread out from her crotch. The silk folds of her dress parted to make way for it. It was so big that it would be painful sliding in no matter how wet Mikala’s pussy was at the moment, but she fixated on it like a starving man staring at a steak. What was it Chuck said to you? Christy asked. Get down on all fours. Like a good girl.

Mikala threw herself all the way to the floor with a wordless cry, spinning around and sticking her ass in the air for Christy’s massive erection. Her thighs kept tensing and untensing, desperate for the aching gap between her legs to be filled, stretched, penetrated. Her breasts flopped onto the soft carpeting, falling out of her shirt, and when her nipples grazed the ground she shuddered.

You’re all mine now, bitch, Christy said. She grabbed Mikala’s hips firmly in her hands and repositioned her ass ever so slightly. The anticipation was grueling. Mikala was almost crying, she wanted the dick so bad.

Please, please, please, fuck me, she begged.

Christy laughed and plunged into her, thrusting as deep as she could go into Mikala’s tight little pussy. Mikala felt the massive head of Christy’s cock spread her folds and slide inside of her. She felt skewered on the end of such a huge shaft, and it was the best feeling she’d ever had. She screamed and ground down on it, bucking again and again while Christy held onto her hips and rode her little slave like a bucking rodeo bull.

Go on, Christy commanded. Come on my dick, Mikala.

Confrontation

Mike reeled. He’d been expecting to come home, get dressed as Mikala, and head out with his friends — his normal routine. But instead his father had been in his bedroom waiting for him. Now he stared at Mike coldly, brows drawn down, waiting for an explanation for the piles of women’s clothing and makeup that he’d dumped out of Mikala’s box.

I, I... Mike began, struggling to find words. His mouth felt as dry as a desert, and cold chills ran up and down his body. The idea of having to explain Mikala to his father was just about the worst thing he could think of. Joe Wantry would never understand. He was old-school, conservative, and he worked in construction. He called gay guys fags and pussies, and had always made it his mission in life to keep his son from endin’ up as one of those queers, as he’d sometimes say.

"You what? his father said. He threw the shoe back into the box with a thud and stood up. He glared at Mike, eyes red-hot, and a vein pulsed in his neck. Why the fuck does my son have a box full of women’s clothing and make-up in his room hidden under a bunch of old rags?"

I can explain, Mike said. He tried to think of any explanation that could actually get him out of this. Could he say they were Kyla’s? But why would they be in his room?

You’d better explain, and you’d better do it real fast. His father jammed an angry finger towards Mike. Is this a gay thing, Michael? Are you doing some kind of sick, perverted gay stuff behind my back?

I’m not gay, Mike insisted for the second time that day. You’ve got to believe me.

Could he say he was holding the clothes for a friend? But why would he ever do that? And why would his father believe him?

Then what the hell is all this? his father demanded. Clothes and shoes and makeup and a wig... The disgust in his voice was palpable. I’m not letting some little queerbait nancy-boy live under my roof. You understand me? If you want to get off by dressing yourself up in lady things, you can go live in the street with the rest of the trannies and the hookers and see how much you like it then.

Mike’s throat constricted like someone was choking it, and his heart hurt. Tears threatened in his eyes, and it took everything he had to keep them pushed down. Crying would be the worst possible response right now. He’d known his father was homophobic, but now he was saying such awful, hurtful things. He wanted to protest, to try to explain, to tell him the truth... anything to protest and tell his father that he was wrong, that he was bigoted, and that he had no right to treat Mike like a piece of human garbage, which was how he felt at the moment.

The door opened and slammed shut downstairs, and Kyla’s voice floated up the stairwell. Daddy? Mike? Are you guys home?

Mike and his father both stared at each other in silence, his father’s