Tortured by a Demon

   "Please change me back, Veronica, I'll do anything to be a man again!" I begged over the phone.

  My girlfriend, Veronica, was a witch. She had been experimenting with some more powerful and dark stuff recently.  

  I didn't think anything of it.  In fact, I thought it was cool, because we were both pretty goth.

  Well, one recent Friday night, she asked for some of my male seed to use in a demon summoning ritual. She said it was for "beauty."  

  It sure was!

  I woke the next morning to find I had a woman's body, with very pale skin and dark hair.  I looked around my room to find that it was pretty similar, only family pictures were all of me as a female, and my drawers were filled with black ruffly panties and bras and tiny skirts and blouses.

  For all anyone knew. . . I had always been a chick.

  All except Veronica.

  She was tearful, I'll give her that!

  "I don't know how to make it go back, Matt. I'm sorry!  Basically I was messing with a fertility entity and I just didn't know what I was doing.  I GAVE it YOUR manhood.  It's no longer yours!"

Over the next few weeks I would be tormented by this entity, with it mocking my new feminine body, voice, and movements.

  I ended up getting a protective sigil tattooed on my arm that would keep it away to a certain extent, but even then, it always followed me around to remind me of what it took from me.

  Now a few months in, the entity delights that I've taken steps to accept my new body and life.  Veronica and I still are together, and the entity thinks this is very hot.  I work as a waitress and make more than fine tips.

  For some reason, I think everything's going according to it's plan. . .

Luck of the Irish

  The Leprechaun asked what we wanted to wish for this St. Patrick's Day.  Me (Jon, left) and the other male bartender (Connor, right) responded, "help us make sure we make lots of money in tips!"
  The Leprechaun smiled, winked and snapped his fingers. . .

Robotics Research

  Because of depression, isolation, and other mental health reasons, I dropped out of a competitive MIT robotics program.  This only led to my symptoms worsening, watching all of my classmates graduate and start amazing robotics and android startup research companies.
  Desperate to still work in the field because of my remaining interest in robotics, I begged my friends to help out in some way at their companies.  Being kind, only my friend Mike gave me an interview for a truly low level job: research assistant.
  Basically, they needed someone desperate enough that they'd let experiments be run on them.  In my case, they wanted to test out how long consciousness could be transferred to an android host.
  So, here's me, 6 minutes in, my "sleeve" having just slipped out of the plastic bag it left manufacturing in, the artificial hair still wet from various preservation fluids.  They gave me simple clothes (and a stipend for more of course). 
  This is the first "selfie" I've taken for the experiment.  It's up to me to take three of these a day for as long as my consciousness holds in my new "sleeve." 
  Here's to hoping my body remains preserved in cryogenics. . .

Dark Sith Powers

  My Sith Lord and Master made a promise to me when I sacrificed myself for him in battle that death would not be the end.  He told me about Darth Plagueis "The Wise," a Sith Lord from the distant past who had the power to restore life to those who had died.
  I had faith in this promise from him, that though I died defending him as a distraction so he could escape, he would return for my body to resurrect me and I would continue my training in the Dark Side.  Well, he resurrected me alright, with Dark, powerful, force powers.  He needed to tap into his darkest of vices to achieve the levels of power needed.
  My resurrection came in the form of his deepest, darkest desires and evil lusts.  I woke up with a body unlike the one I died in.  I was a woman.
  Completing my training became easy.  I had unbridled amounts of power on top which welled from the very sin of lust itself, a communal pool of energy deep in the Dark Side of the Force. 
  But the harder I fought, the harder my own desire for fornication and debauchery became.  It seemed to refill my force energies, and my journey to find more and more twisted encounters reached into depravity.
  My new fetish: deceive the young, hot, naive Padawans of the Light Side who were fresh out of the academy.  To try and bring them to the Dark Side with my new body.

What Happened to Our Relationship?

  "I'm so embarrassed, I'm freakishly tall compared to you two," I, on the right, whispered to my girlfriend during the photo.
  "Please stop complaining or you'll give yourself away, and then there's no lesbian sex for you tonight!"  Jen, my girlfriend in the middle, snapped back.
  At first, I was excited to go to the party and show off Jen to other people, but things changed when I found out the hoops we would have to jump through to attend.  Mary, on the left, had a very strict father.  Everyone knew that she had the capacity to throw awesome parties because of their family's wealth, but her dad insisted each time, "no boys are allowed!"
  Obviously, being male, I would not be able to come.  The workaround we agreed to was for each man to buy a skinsuit to wear to the party.  That way, everyone could come, regardless of gender.  The initial shame of doing so went away after the first party since everyone did it.
  After that, we started to enjoy doing it as a tradition.  Besides the fun of designing the ideal womanly body for yourself with your girlfriend online, it became fun to pick out clothes to wear together at the mall and have her do my makeup.
  Honestly, our relationship became closer than ever, and usually, it ended in hot, steamy, lesbian sex.
  I began to worry, though, when she started to prefer me wearing the suit and being disinterested in having sex with me without the suit on.  When she started preferring that she wear the strap-on each time, I knew we were in for trouble.

Thrifting Halloween

Unconditional Love