She was unhappy.
It had been 4 months since she had moved from her hometown to start her new job. She had hoped the job would complete her, fill the void in her unhappy life. After realising that her job was giving her no fulfillment, she tried dating. She frequented bars and clubs, meet a few reasonably guys and went on some dates. She even took one or two home. The sex has uninspiring, and terrible, but at least it was some form of release. She started seeing the least bad option regularly, he simply started coming by regularly and it became routine. Routine became "relationship", but she felt unfulfilled.
One day, he was away on business, she stumbled upon an old book shop whilst she was out shopping. She had never been in a peculiar bookshop like it: there were old and expensive looking books everywhere, nowhere could she see any pop literature. Even the old man behind the counter looked like from another era. After some fascinated browsing a particular book caught her interest. As if drawn to it, she grasped it from the shelf and flipped open the leather cover.
"Beware! Do not continue to read this book if you want to continue with your way of life. If you are happy with your mediocrity and leading a quaint life, put down this book. You have been warned."
Although part of her mind dismissed the paragraph as nonsense and a joke, a more primal part of her trembled slightly. For the first time in ages she was excited, shaken to the bone. She looked around the shop. The attendant was nowhere to be seen. She found a comfy old leather chair hidden away in a corner. She took a deep breath. She was nervous. She pressed on.
"Chapter 1. The rules.
Hello Patricia. Welcome to the start of your transformation."
WHAT THE FUCK!! she almost screamed. How did the book know her name!?!?
"Compose yourself, young lady. Right now. You decided to continue and now you must process down the rabbit hole. Do not worry, it won't hurt. Not too much at least..."
She suddenly felt a tingle in her palm, the one clasping the book. Before realising what was happening the tingle turned into a hot jolt of pain. She shrieked and dropped the book. It tumbled onto the ground. What the fuck?! Her hand hurt, as if she had put it onto a hot surface. She looked at her palm. There was a small red symbol branded onto it. It looked like a square with a heart inside it. She was perplexed. How? What? How?!??
She glared down at the book. The book! ITT had the same symbol on its back cover. But how has it branded her? This is some twisted joke, she thought.
Before she could fully process what was going on, the attendant appeared as if from nowhere.
"Who are you he bellowed? We closed an hour ago, were you hiding here? Hoping to steal my books after I left!? Get Out!!!"
She leapt up from the chair. WHAT IS GOING ON?! She banged her knee on the arm rest and fell to the floor. The attendant continued to shout, he was running towards his counter, most likely wanting to call the police. She scrambled to her feet, she had to get out. She spotted the book beside her bag, without thinking clearly she grabbed it together with her belongings and sprinted for the door.
"Get Out you thief!!" Was the last thing she heard as she sprinted outside. She ran without looking back. She sprinted down an alleyway, then down a narrow lane. Her lungs burned by the time she felt she could stop.
She looked around. It was dark. How long has she been in the shop? She searched her bag for her phone. 2113. She had been in the shop for over 5 hours? She must have nodded off. She hurried off home.
After a few paces she remembered the pain in her hand. She hoped it had been a dream as she slowly opened her palm to examine herself. It was still there, staring her on the eye. The heart within a square. It seemed to be less painful now though and didn't look quite as swollen and red.
She was confused. WHAT IS GOING ON!? I need to get home! She hurried. By the time she arrived in her small flat she was sweating and panicking. Nothing made sense.
She threw her bag into the corner of her bedroom. The book tumbled out and fell open in to show the middle pages. She could see that they were blank.
Curious from what she saw, she approached the book. Not wanting to get burned again, she took a letter opener to flip the pages. They were all blank. She flipped back to the first page she had read.
"Patricia, this is your story. You cannot skip forward. I apologise for the inconvenience you experienced, I'm afraid it was necessary."
SHIT, IT'S TALKING TO ME!
"Yes, I'm talking to you, now listen. The mark on your hand gives you a gift. It allows you to experience your true desires. It allows you to know yourself and taste life."
She hesitated. This is crazy, she thought. Taste life? She had everything! A job, a flat, a boyfriend. Life was fine... She felt a knot in her stomach. What did the book mean? She had to continue.
"You're confused, buy this is necessary. Your transformation will begin tomorrow."
With that the book slammed shut, startling her. Patricia shrieked! Stupid book, she thought, yawning. She suddenly felt exhausted, bed lined so enticing.
Things will be better tomorrow, she thought, as she climbed into bed and drifted off.
... She had never had a wet dream. In fact, she hardly ever remembered her dreams and if she did they were rather boring. Not that night. It was intense. She dreamt of waking up lying on her front with her arms extended above her. Although they weren't tied to anything, she couldn't lift them. She wasn't wearing her nightie, she realised as a cool breeze brushed over her back. It played across her ass, too. Her NAKED ass. She never slept naked!!! The cool breeze continued down her legs. Following the sensation she realised her feet were spread apart, not being held by anything but she was unable to close them. She was totally exposed.
She looked up towards her hands. The head of the bed was made of a big mirror. She looked at herself and saw she was wearing makeup and had lovely hair. She looked stunning. She could also see her own ass, that's because there was a pillow underneath her hips, elevating her ass and exposing herself to the crisp air.
She felt embarrassed, what if she was seen this way!? She had never been exposed like this. At the same time, she felt a warm tingle between her legs. She tried to ignore the sensation, and focus on something else. this wasn't her! She didn't get turned on in this manner. Whilst thinking this she couldn't help but allowing her mind to drift back to the sensation between her legs. A warm glow was spreading across her pussy, like nothing she has ever felt. Although she could see no one behind her, it felt like someone was breathing onto her pussy. She was mesmerised. What was going on?! This should not be happening, yet it felt amazing.
The breathing felt hot and ragged on her pussy lips. This was insane. She squinted hard, trying to see if something or someone was on the room. She could see nothing. The breathing was making her moan. It was driving her crazy, only stimulating her a little bit not satisfying her. She tried to squeeze her thighs together, to make it stop. Instead, all that happened is that her thighs opened a little further, her hips tilted forward, exposing her pussy even more. She was getting wet. Very wet. As if sensing what was going on, the breathing quickened and intensified into a blow. She felt the airflow on her pussy, circling right around her clit. She panted and groaned. Her hips started gyrating in an attempt to guide her pussy onto the moving airstream, somehow hoping to find a tongue to assist the breathing.
She was losing her mind. She had never been this primal and full of lust. All she could focus on was to somehow satisfy her needs. She needed to cum. Hard.
The blowing intensified. Thankfully, she thought, finally some relief. But then the blowing slowed again. She was being teased. As if whoever was doing this could read her mind. She cried out into the bed sheets, her hips thrusting up and pussy twitching, trying to catch some additional stimulation.
Her pussy was dripping, she has never been this wet. Ever. She was ready to fuck and needed it, but wasn't getting any. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back. Her back arched, thereby thrusting get ass further into the air. She felt so slutty, her body literally begging to get filled by anything or anyone.
She started hoping that the door would fly open and someone would walk in. Someone to release the unbearable tension building in her loins. She wouldn't think twice about letting a stranger take her. She needed release. She was babbling into the sheets uncontrollably, only focusing on the hot breath which was keeping her on the brink of orgasm.
Suddenly she heard a voice in her head, the same voice from the book. "Do you want release Patricia?"
Fucker!!! Yes, she panted. Yes, I need release.