Wish, Fulfilled

By Selbryth Lannigan

Filled with a healthy attraction to the opposite sex, a young man of mixed race overcomes the frustrations of being an outcast by transforming into his ideal woman. Then he bumps into his longtime crush at the mall and things go a bit sideways.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Selbryth Lannigan
• Release date: Jul 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463512432

Selbryth Lannigan

I've been writing fiction since the mid 1980s, both short and long works, and turned to erotic fiction at around the same time. I have published on the Literotica site under the singular name Selbryth and have also sold hundreds of short 'anonymous' pieces to the pulp erotic publications of the time: Letters Magazine and Hustler's Busty Beauties being just two. Focusing on sexuality beyond what some would consider the 'norm', my characters include t-girls (trannies, kathoey, newhalf, shemales, ladyboys) cross-dressers, sissified and transformed males, gays and lesbians, who engage in a variety of fetishes, kinks and sexy hijinks.Though explicitly described, the stories themselves offer an inner dialog which most times borders on the romantic. There is no death, very little violence and hopefully the reader is left feeling good.

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Notice of Copyright

Copyright 2018 by Selbryth Lannigan

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2018

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences (18+). All characters and other entities appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, dead or alive, or other real-life entities, past or present, is purely coincidental.

Wish, Fulfilled

Wish, Fulfilled

Sometimes I wished I'd been born a girl. I was eighteen already and was still slender, not very manly, and pretty much a wimp. I had a tiny dick, a stupid, wispy mustache, and wasn't a people person. No dates all through high school, and really no hopes that things would change during college.

I jerked off two, maybe three times a day, while visualizing the girls I had crushes on. There were quite a few actually; at least I had that to look forward to every day.

There was one in particular, taller than most, slender, long-legged, and with long, silky black hair that reached almost to her waist. She had the prettiest almond eyes, cute nose and a cute slope to her shoulders.

I'd see her in the halls and hate myself for being so under her spell. She didn't know I existed. I lived in a place that was supposed to be a melting pot for all the races, but I was half-breed; half Japanese-American, half Polish.

I figured the melting pot didn't include races that had actually melted together.

Or maybe it was just that I was so stupidly shy.

But I hated the fact that I'd be so attracted to someone so distant and unattainable, who never looked my way. Then I started hating her as well as myself. I envied the fact that guys would look at her, that she'd be friendly with them, go out with them. I was jealous that she'd get attention so easily, without the slightest effort. She actually had to turn most all of those advances down - which were many - and she went out with just those she liked.

--Which were few and far between, as the grapevine had it.

But I still had a crush on her. I started to hate everything about everything.

I turned nineteen, still with no prospects. I was still jerking off all the time, thinking about the crushes I had - especially that one - and then one day, feeling completely desolate and hopeless, I decided I'd mimic that one girl I had it so bad for. If I couldn't be with her for real, I'd become her and be able to be with her all the time. I'd become my own girlfriend.

I looked at myself in the mirror, wondered what I'd look like as a girl - the full deal; makeup, long wig, high-heels, bra, panties, short dresses - and got in the car and headed down to a wig-shop I found in the yellow-pages.

Back home in my bedroom (I was still living with my parents), I modeled the wig and liked what I saw. It was long and straight and black just like my girl-crush.

Next I rooted around in my older sister's old makeup case and started learning about eye-shadow, lipstick, blush, all those things. I was terrible at it at first, but with the wig and makeup, I found I was liking what I saw in the mirror.

The stupid mustache had to go though. It made me look like a rock-star or something - a guy who happened to have makeup on. I hurried to the bathroom, grabbed my razor, then looked downwards over my bare chest. I'm not hairy - I guess because of my Oriental side - but I had hair around my nipples, a faint growth on my chest, and as I looked down my front - a line of hair going down from my navel and disappearing under the top of my underwear. I pulled my undies down and stared at my pubic thatch.

Then I remembered other places with hair, lifted my arms, saw my hairy pits, then brought my right foot up on the counter and looked at my leg.

Again, not real hairy, but enough to make me remember I wasn't my crush-girl and was still just me.

I stripped off my underwear, went to shower, and shaved everything - including the tops of my feet and toes. I wanted to be just as sleek and smooth-looking as any girl would be.

When I stepped out and dried, my whole body tingled; every inch, but especially where I'd shaved. Everywhere hair had been, was now super-sensitive; to the point where I had an erection that just wouldn't go away.

And even my erection felt incredible; I'd shaved my balls, my cock, and even shaved my ass-cheeks and around my bung-hole. I made me start to wonder how much time girls actually spent with a razor.

Then, back in my room, with my wig snug down over my own longish hair, I redid my makeup and mascara and finally saw this girlish face smiling back at me; I was so pleased I was actually smiling, and she had that same smile.

It was the kind of smile I'd always dreamed of receiving from one of my crushes, one that had never happened, and now it was. The girl in the mirror was happy to see me, pleased and delighted. She had a friendly twinkle in her eyes.

She, out of all the others, actually seemed to like me.

I took the mirror off the wall, set it at an angle on the floor against the wall so I could see myself and knelt there in front of it. I could see everything, my girl's face and long hair, the pretty, friendly eyes.

I caught a boner just seeing what I was seeing. I was skinny, not muscular - so at least the bulky, masculine thing wasn't so obvious - but with the makeup, my face at least, looked pretty convincing. Not like my girl-crush obviously, but like...one of her friends, maybe; a girl who'd fit in with her little clique.

Then I raised my arms, saw the smooth, silky contours of my freshly-shaved armpits, arched my back and looked at my hairless chest, then looked further down and saw the hairless triangle of my crotch. My boner was sticking up solid, but everything down there was smooth and sleek.

--Even the creamy thighs surrounding it.

I didn't look half bad.

I sat back, brought my legs out in front, keeping them side by side with my knees up and against my chest. I loved how pretty they looked now; pretty and pale because there was no hair to