There were no clocks, nor were there windows, in the hallway that Kelli found himself walking through, so he didn't know how long he wandered. Longer than he was comfortable with, he was sure of that. Door after door he tried, each one locked. Corner after corner he turned, all leading to more hallways. How big was this building, anyway? He was sure that he hadn't walked that far before he had arrived at the massage room, so where had he made a wrong turn to end him in this maze?
Not that he wasn't enjoying himself. His nerves were fried due to the directionless wandering, but his skin was afire with pleasure. The seafoam robe he wore, soft, fluffy, was rubbing against his otherwise naked skin. The sensitizer gel they'd used on him during his massage had left him hairless below the eyebrows, but also had awoken every nerve ending in his skin and made him a walking erogenous zone.
As he padded bare footed down the hallway, he was finding it hard to concentrate due to the sensations he was bombarded with. His penis, already having erupted twice with fountains of sperm that he was still sticky with, was already beginning to twitch. He couldn't possibly be able to obtain another erection, could he?
Just as he was about to lose hope about finding a way out of the hallway, a door clicked open as he approached it.
"Oh, you must be Kelli!" a warm, feminine voice said from the dim light inside, "We've been expecting you!"
Jon's sleep was a dream-filled wonder. In the real world, his body, clad in his new black nightie, was still as could be, but in the dream world, he was anything but.
Dreams have their own logic, and Jon's were no exception. From scene to scene he would flit, from adventure to adventure, with no challenge from the sleeping man. The spirit hovered over him, gently prodding Jon's subconscious mind, enjoying playing with Jon's dreams almost as much as it enjoyed playing with Jon when he was awake.
Jon found himself standing over a grate, holding his white dress from blowing over his head, wondering how manly he looked with the wind blowing through his blonde hair, his breasts barely contained, a smile on his painted lips. A hero pose if there ever was one, he thought to himself, not caring that a crowd had formed behind him to inspect his pantie-clad behind.
The next moment Jon was sitting in an older man's lap, while sucking on a lollipop, clad in short skirt, tight blouse, and pigtails.
"I wuv you so much, Daddy," Jon said, grinding his behind into the man's lap, glad that he had found himself into a healthy father-son relationship. Most men grew up without a patron to be their role-model, their mentor.
"How much do you love me, sweet-heart?" the man said, coffee on his breath, hands reaching around to grab Jon's breasts.
"Ooh!" Jon squealed, "So much that wittle old me doesn't have words for it! Maybe I can just show you!" Jon was so glad to have the chance to show his gratitude and affection for the relationship he found himself in. He flipped around so that he was facing the man, wrapped his legs around him, and pulled the his face into Jon's deep cleavage. Nothing like a good hug to show someone that you cared.
A moment later, Jon was standing over a man in a hospital bed. The short white nurse's uniform Jon had on was tight in all the right place, showing that Jon was professional, while at the same time approachable. A perfect health-care practitioner. His high heels gave him enough height to be able to see the patient on the raised bed, while his stockings gave him enough skin coverage to show that he meant business.
"Time for your sponge bath, Mr. Wigglesworth," Jon said, pulling the covers back from his patient. Charles Wigglesworth had been a patient for some time, having been admitted after a strange growth had been found in his groin area. Jon was fascinated with the case, and had made sure to attend Mr. Wigglesworth's bed as much as possible, even putting in extra time to ensure that he got the best healthcare in the world.
With a frown on Jon's puffy lips, he noted that the growth had returned. The day before, Jon was sure that they'd had a breakthrough, with a discharge a of hot, sticky substance having erupted from the growth, all over Jon's face and breasts, and the subsequent shrinking of the growth. It seemed, however, that the growth had returned. Maybe it would just take multiple treatments.
"Well, looks like we've got some work to do!" Jon said, smiling a smile of encouragement to the poor man, while climbing onto the bed with him, straddling his body.
The spirit disengaged from Jon's mind. The last dream had been entirely of Jon's design, so it was confident that his victim was on autopilot. It was time to begin to have some fun in the real world.
Reaching out with its power, the spirit began to caress Jon's body. This process had to happen slowly. If it moved with too much speed, the pain would be substantial, and any progress the spirit made would be lost. It would begin small, subtly. Through the black nightie Jon was wearing, the spirit could see his skin form goosebumps. They seemed to ripple up and down the young man's body. Soon, hair that grew in all the places it should for a man, began to slip out of Jon's follicles. His legs, his groin, his chest, his armpits, after a few moments were bald.
Pleased with the change, the spirit reminded itself that hair was easy. The rest of the transformations would take more effort.
