Hentai Fight Girl In New Metro Ch 01

Content spoilers: This story contains fetish material involving magical, instant gender bending, with tongue-in-cheek elements such as very exaggerated curves and copious, explosive lactation. Enjoy!

*****

On the downside, I'd just had my wallet stolen on the way back from work.

New Metro, USA, had a serious street gang problem. Buildings were covered in graffiti, violence was all too common, the police force was a joke, and while the newly-elected mayor had promised to take a hard line against crime, there had been no signs of that having any effect so far. I counted myself lucky that I'd gotten away with only a few minor scrapes and bruises, and that my wallet hadn't contained anything very important anyway (a new credit card was already on the way since the last time it had been stolen). When the thug pulled out a knife, well, I knew better than to try and fight back.

On the upside, I'd just gotten a free video game.

It was from one of those shady street vendors, a thickly-accented man whose ethnicity I couldn't even begin to place. Amidst a bunch of New Age occult-looking knick-knacks, I noticed something that stuck out like a sore thumb: a colorful video game disc in a transparent plastic sleeve, likely bootleg, or maybe just second-hand. The scratched artwork decorating the disc showed an assortment of girls in improbable outfits, some of them buxom to an outrageous degree (judging by the art style, the game was likely from Japan), a logo for a game console I owned, and the title: "FIGHT GIRLS NEO X". Yup, definitely made in Japan. I'd never even heard of that game before, and my curiosity was piqued. But before I could even remind myself that I was literally penniless at the moment, the vendor simply took the disc and handed it to me. "For free," he said, nodding.

Puzzled, but not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth, I took it and went on my way. Maybe it was just a really crappy game he was trying to get rid of.

A few minutes later, I turned on the lights to illuminate my crappy, one-room apartment. Briefly, I wondered what sort of miracle could help a down-on-his-luck guy like me, but I pushed those gloomy thoughts away. I was going to heat myself up some noodles, watch a little TV, and then try the really crappy game I'd just got, which should at least be good for a laugh.

When I tossed the disc onto the table, however, a tiny detail caught my eye, one I hadn't noticed previously. Underneath the game's title were a few more words, in a smaller font: a subtitle reading "Fight Girls Fight Street Crime!!" I grinned. All right, this was just too appropriate. Mind flashing back to the thug who'd taken my wallet, I decided to put off dinner for a bit, and maybe take my mind off things with a little video game-based catharsis.

I put his disc in, crossing my fingers that this weird, scratched-up game would even work. Luckily, it did, and a title screen soon came up, along with some cheery J-Pop music. At first glance, it seemed to be some kind of arcade beat-'em-up. I pressed start, and then a character select screen came up, filled with a dozen or so of the titular girls. At a quick glance, some were martial artists, some were more outlandish things like amazons or sorceresses, one was some kind of slimy rabbit-girl...

But one thing they all had in common was having huge breasts. No, not huge, ENORMOUS. The absolute smallest in the lineup were DD-cups, and it went way up from there. Clearly whoever made that game was some kind of fetishist... but I actually didn't mind, as I was a bit of one myself. I smiled to myself at the thought of these ladies with impossible bodies "fighting street crime" in New Metro, not only keeping their balance on stiletto heels, but managing to perform incredible combat feats with them... Snapping out of my reverie, and eager to see the actual game in motion now, I quickly picked a character, who the onscreen stats simply referred to as "Opal -- Diamond Dominatrix -- HH Cup".

I pressed the button. A flash of blinding light illuminated the room.

When my vision returned, I saw the TV screen had gone completely white, and no sound was emerging from it anymore. I quickly realized, however, that I had something much more pressing to worry about.

Dizzy, I stood up, finding a new center of gravity. I walked a few steps, in a manner I wasn't quite used to, and fumbled to open my closet. Inside was a full-length mirror.

Holy shit.

The figure staring at me was... not the one I was expecting.

She had stepped out of the video game, and her manga-style body, made flesh, was something to behold. Her tits were the (almost literal) elephants in the living room, two nearly-spherical, enormous masses of flesh, roughly the size of football helmets. They jiggled at the slightest provocation, though they proudly remained aloft without a hint of sagging, even in the absence of a bra, and with the twin two-inch-wide strips of latex covering them offering no support whatsoever.

I tore my eyes away from that literally incredible rack, and surveyed the rest of the woman's no-less-improbable body. Her hair looked just as unearthly, naturally lavender-colored and in a tomboyishly short, spiky haircut from the back of which protruded a pair of thin pigtails going all the way down to her knees, with tennis ball-sized, pearl-colored hair ornaments at the ends of both.

Her face was youthful, and seemed to default to a half-lidded, playful expression. A pair of golden hoop earrings dangled from her ears, and her blood-red eyes were adorned by long eyelashes, a hint of purple eye shadow, as well as a pair of tiny half-moon glasses that only seemed to be for show. Her thick lips were, meanwhile, covered in a glossy, light purple lipstick.

Her body, besides the obvious, was perfect in every way. She had a lean, athletic frame, long legs, and an hourglass shape including a sizable bubble butt. She had a black velvet choker, in which a large diamond stone was set, and from which dangled a tiny, purple tie not even long enough to reach the Grand Canyon of her cleavage. She wore a sort of black latex half-corset, the upper edge of which turned into a pair of the aforementioned black bands that covered her massive breasts, like a superfluous pair of suspenders. The half-corset's bottom flared out into a black miniskirt, oddly frilly despite the vague BDSM vibe the rest of the outfit was giving off.

The look was completed by a pair of dark purple stiletto-heeled boots nearly as long as her legs, as well as a pair of long latex gloves with fingertips that curled at the ends, like sharp-looking, claw-like nails. In her hands was a long whip, rolled up, but splitting into three lashes instead of just one.

This girl's body was incredible. And I was in it.

Maybe I should have been panicking, wondering how this could have even happened, or how I could turn back to normal, if that was even a possibility, or maybe just having a breakdown about gender identity issues. But at that moment, at least, it just felt right. I was still in control of myself, but it was as if the character whose body I borrowed was along for the ride too, whispering in my ear, telling me everything was fine, and that we were going to have such fun together...

...So instead of taking the sensible approach, I took the fun one.

I took the closet mirror down (briefly surprised by my own strength—it was light as a feather!) and walked over to my bed, but not without noticing that I couldn't help but sway my hips as I did so, strutting as if I was on a runway. I took the closet mirror down and set the mirror at the foot of my bed, propping it up against the wall so as to see everything that would be coming next. I then made a pile of pillows on my bed and leaned on it, instinctively lounging like a porn star in front of a camera. I raised a knee and set a foot on the bed, so as to lift the hem of the skirt and get a good view of Opal's pussy (my pussy!), not covered by any sort of underwear. My fingers tip-tapped towards it as I saw and felt my folds already wetting themselves at the thought of what would be coming next. But then...

I knew what I wanted, but I felt the overwhelming urge to tease, even if it meant teasing myself. Feeling a mixture of disappointment, playfulness and building anticipation, I pulled my hand back and swatted the miniskirt back in front of my sex, but instead made for the next best thing. I leaned forward, and thrust my mammoth tits forward, shaking them to send them swaying, jiggling, bobbing and bouncing violently, stretching the twin strands of latex covering them past their apparent breaking point, but somehow, they held on. I laughed as I experienced jiggle physics firsthand, every single bounce of those massive mammaries sending shocks of pleasure through my entire body.

Realizing that they would likely keep jiggling for a while if I didn't stop them, I clamped my hands down on their sides and then slid them up, using my entire arms to squeeze them together, making me realize just how incredibly malleable and sensitive they were. Although they were incredibly round and firm-looking, I could still squeeze them into teardrop shapes, making them appear even bigger as I leaned closer and closer to the mirror. As I felt my sex moisten even further with the pressure I applied, I managed to put my two hands together, then decided to release them, sending my breasts swaying to the side and slapping each other. It felt as if I'd just gasped for air after holding my breath. Meanwhile, the twin strips of latex somehow survived the entire ordeal and remained stubbornly in place, as if super-glued on.

Despite how incredibly resilient they had just been in concealing my nudity, I had no trouble simply parting the two latex bands aside with my gloved hands, revealing a pair of already-erect nipples. Predictably, they were proportional to my HH-cup boobs, that is to say quite enormous. Eager to find out if they were as sensitive as the rest of my body, I tweaked one of my nipples with my clawed hand.

The sharp sensation I felt then was beyond anything I had anticipated. I gasped, loudly, and my free hand scratched at the sheet of my bed, tearing it apart like tissue paper, and even leaving a gash in the mattress itself. I paused to glance at it, surprised again by my own strength as well as just how sharp my nails turned out to be, but also by how resilient my breasts, and maybe the rest of my body, were to them nonetheless.

Lost in the moment, I recklessly decided to test my body's limits firsthand, clamping my palms down onto my thick nipples and digging my fingers deep into my malleable tit-flesh... I let out a small scream, not of pain, but pure, raw bliss. Then, holding on to my nipples tightly, I pulled my breasts forward, stretching them to a point that would likely be torture for any normal woman, but was instead an incredibly pleasurable sensation to the superhuman body of the hentai-esque character I was inhabiting. I turned to the side to marvel at the mirror, with how I'd just managed to stretch my breasts to the full length of my arms!

I resisted the urge to let go of them once more, but instead pulled back in a swift motion, firmly pressing my hands into my breasts, prompting a sensual moan to escape my lips. As I massaged them, I pressed my legs together unconsciously. I then realized two things: first, that trickles of milk escaped both of my nipples, and second, that I could likely bring myself to an orgasm just by playing with my tits. Emboldened by the idea, I manhandled them harder and faster, clawed fingers leaving my skin reddened in their wake before it reverted to its pale color. Panting and panting, I squeezed and pulled on my tits, trying to coax out the liquid sloshing around them that hadn't been in there a moment before. I had no idea if I was milking my new breasts properly, but the sensation felt so good that I didn't care. Something was building up, rising through my entire body, like a volcano about to erupt...

I screamed out in a voice I didn't recognize, and nearly went blind from the pleasure. I fell back onto the pillows as two streams of white-hot milk gushed out of my breasts, and my entire body was rocked with blissful aftershocks for a long moment.

...But I wasn't done yet.

The very concept of a refractory period was far from my mind, as I looked directly into the mirror with a coy smile, then lifted up my black skirt to show my pussy, now gleaming with the juices it had been squirting. With no further preamble, I plunged the fingers of my hand into it, my back arching at the shock of how good it felt. Once again, my own sharp nails were nothing when turned against me, and only enhanced the sensation, as sharp points of pleasure dove straight for what must have only been my G-spot. I threw my head back and squealed in delight, every muscle tensed up at my fingers' newfound mastery of the female anatomy, my anatomy, it now seemed, and right then I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. But I wanted more.

My eyes landed on the whip, which had been discarded on my nightstand. I grabbed for it, but the part that interested me wasn't the whip itself, but its handle, which right now looked very much like a long, thick and hard shaft in my eyes. I had the briefest moment of hesitation, as my mind was still very much that of a heterosexual male's, but my body had no such compunctions. I thrust it into myself with a wet sound, and the wave of ecstasy that washed over every inch of my body made me forget all my fears. I thrust it in and out, both enjoying the show I was giving myself as that stunning beauty from my most depraved dreams, and experiencing sexual pleasure the likes of which I'd only even had a tiny shadow of before this fateful evening. I moaned, I screamed, I rocked my entire body onto the whip's handle as my breasts bounced along with my movements, and once more, I felt this buildup, I tensed up, I thought I was ready...

And I exploded, in a way that felt quite literal. Every nerve ending of mine was burning with pleasure, and I let go of the whip, losing my strength for the briefest moment while I squirted out copious amounts of both girl-cum and milk. It felt even better than the first time. I let myself sprawl out onto the pillows, finally feeling like I'd hit the limits of this body's stamina, but my heart raced at the idea that, maybe, this was simply because I wasn't used to it yet...

I rose up, idly, and took up my whip again. Without realizing what I was doing before I did, I gave it a good lick, and to my surprise, the taste was surprisingly sweet. I looked in the mirror, thoughts idly swirling in my head. One question quickly rose up, however: what now? The face of the man who stole my wallet flashed in my mind. I grinned.