Feedback Requested for Story Scenes ...

[SolariWriter]

Everyone:

I've been told by my "target" audience that, when it comes to writing erotic and/or transformation scenes, my skills are pretty good. While that obviously leaves me feeling good, I'd like to see what my fellow authors and readers outside my "target" audience think. Please, read the scene that follows and leave your thoughts.

Please be aware that the scenes contain some transgender elements, since that's the "target" audience in question.

Some time later, Marion finally made his way back to the suite Mark had rented for them, but only with Marissa’s assistance. He keyed the door open and dragged himself in; the growing sleepiness and booze, combined with no luck at finding Mark yet, all combined together to finally lay Marion low in the wee hours of the morning. He sagged onto the oversize plush sofa and closed his eyes, resting.

Marissa closed the door behind her, a mischievous smile on her face. She wandered over to the coffee table and picked up the TV remote, flicking the machine on. The set was still showing CNN, and Marissa quickly changed it to one of the hotel’s in-channel offerings: a channel that was tuned in to cameras located in one of the hotel’s adult zones. Light danced in her eyes as pounding, hypnotic music filled the suite, produced by an all-female band that rocked as dancers twisted and curved on poles around them. This was more like home, and she relaxed even more, letting the atmosphere take her away.

Needless to say, the music eventually woke Marion from his restless sleep — punctuated by vivid dreams that left little to the imagination — and he straightened himself, spying Marissa at the end of the sofa, still wide awake.

“You don’t sleep much, do you?” Marion asked. “And you obviously don’t know how to ask before barging into someone’s suite.”

Marissa feigned a pouty look. “Well, handsome, you weren’t going to make it back here on your own volition; who knows what part of the hotel you might’ve ended up in had I not helped you back.” She paused and her pout vanished, replaced by a sweet smile. “And I think that if you really hadn’t wanted me in here with you, you would’ve said so ...,” she glanced up at a clock on the wall, “ ... before you fell asleep three hours ago.”

Marion harrumphed, and got up from the sofa. “You just keep thinking that, lady,” he said as he headed to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind him, the first thing that struck Marion was the cleanliness of the bathroom. There were no used bath towels or washcloths lying about. The soap in the tray was still in its wrapper. He opened the medicine cabinet and saw that the complimentary toothpaste, razor and shampoo hadn’t been touched either.

How odd, Marion thought. You’d think that Mark would have at least bathed a few times in the days he was here ahead of me, or shaved or something. This place simply doesn’t look too lived in.

Marion closed the medicine cabinet and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He knew it was a very good possibility that the hotel cleaning staff was simply good at what they did, and that accounted for the cleanliness of everything. But it wouldn’t explain the bedroom that Mark had used — the bedsheets in there were rumpled, and personal items were scattered about. Why hadn’t the cleaning staff at least made the bed and arranged the pillows? Sighing, Marion rubbed his eyes and turned away from the mirror, unanswered questions still floating about his mind.

An instant later, he was peering at himself again in the mirror. Something wasn’t right. Something was amiss; Marion could feel it. He stared hard at himself, before it finally dawned on him: his eyes were mismatched. His right eye was blue, like it always had been, but his left eye was now green. Emerald green.

“What the hell?” Marion muttered disbelievingly. Then, as he watched, his remaining blue eye began to slowly change, acquiring a hue that soon resolved itself into a beautiful emerald green color. Marion blinked in astonishment. He had emerald green eyes now. But eyes just don’t randomly change color; that’s something that only happens in newborns, not adults. At least that was what Marion had always thought.

Marion rushed out of the bathroom. “You won’t believe what I just saw ...,” he babbled to Marissa, who still sat on the sofa.

“You have to leave the hotel now, Marion,” Marissa said, interrupting his babbling.

“Huh? It’s frickin’ five in the morning!”

“It’s beginning, isn’t it?” Marissa asked. She looked at him closely and nodded knowingly. “Your eyes, they’re emerald green now. They were blue. But now they’re emerald green. Just like all the women in this hotel.”

Marion spluttered helplessly. Marissa was talking out of her ass, and his mind was still too cloudy from the disturbed sleep and booze to make any sense of it.

“Get out of the Night Skies Hotel this instant, Marion, if you value your life as you know it,” Marissa continued. “The longer you stay now, the more the changes will become pronounced. Eventually, you will become one of us ...”

“What’s the meaning of all this hocus pocus crap you’re spewing?!” Marion screamed.

“Marion. It’s me, Mark,” Marissa whispered. “You’ve got to believe me!”

“Mark?” Marion hissed. “You’re definitely not Mark! For starters, you’re a woman!”

Marissa sighed, and began to talk fast. She didn’t know how much time Marion had, so she told him things, that only Mark could know. She had to convince him to get the hell out of the hotel before it truly became too late for him. To that end, she saved her most intimate knowledge of Marion to the very last, in case he wasn’t convinced by what she said before.

“Marion, you’re infertile.”

Dumbfounded, Marion’s mouth hung open, slack-jawed.

Marissa continued, “You received the diagnosis only three months ago, after years of fruitless attempts to have children with your wife. You told me about it right after you told your wife. That’s how close we were. You told me, your best friend, ahead of most of your family. Isn’t that saying something?” Marissa paused for a moment. “This ice fishing trip of ours was meant to be a cathartic thing in the end.”

Marion stared at Marissa, beginning to see her in a different light. If this was true, it would explain why he had been drawn to her earlier in the night, and vice-versa.

“I also know why ‘Storm’ is your nickname,” Marissa added. “It’s because you were born right in the middle of a blizzard, and your mother couldn’t get to the hospital. She was all by herself — your father was stuck in town — at home, and she gave birth to you in the bedroom after 16 hours of labor.” Marissa smiled. “You weighed six pounds, eight ounces and was born screaming.”

Logically, it should have been impossible for Marissa to know any of what she had said. Marion had never been very forthcoming to many people about himself, but Mark had been one of the few with which he felt safe and comfortable with in discussing matters. They had known each other since childhood, after all.

“Mark. My God, Mark. It’s really you,” Marion whispered, staring at the shapely form his friend now exhibited. “What have they done to you?”

“I ... I didn’t follow the rules,” Marissa replied haltingly. “Of course, I didn’t know the rules until I figured them out for myself after the fact. But by then it was too late. I was already beginning to transform into a woman of the night.” She paused, remembering the not-so-distant past. “I wrote something up real fast and sent it out over the Internet and to your e-mail address, Marion. It was a warning to people to avoid the Night Skies Hotel.”

Marion looked over at the wall where the phone was; sure enough, there was a broadband Internet connection next to the phone jack.

“You’ve got to leave this instant, Marion,” Marissa continued. “You still have a chance to escape the destiny that the Night Skies Hotel has intended for you. Go now, and don’t ever look back!”

“I won’t let your memory be forgotten, Mark,” Marion said. “And I’ll do everything in my power to make damn sure this hotel doesn’t get anymore innocent victims!” With that, he was out of the suite and flying down the hallway, the suite’s door left wide open.

Marissa peeked into the hallway and saw Marion going around a corner towards the hotel’s lobby area. She then went into the suite’s bedroom that had formerly been hers and retrieved her pack of Capri 120 cigarettes.

She placed one of the long, slender cigarettes between her full, sensuous lips and flicked her lighter. Its tip glowed brightly as she inhaled deeply, enjoying the creamy white smoke that filled her mouth and lungs.

“Good luck, Marion,” Marissa whispered as she released a plume of creamy white smoke from her sexy mouth.

***

It didn’t take Marion long to reach the hotel’s lobby. He was glad to see that there was only a single woman behind the counter.

“I’ll be checking out now,” Marion stated as he walked up to the counter. “The name is Marion ‘Storm’ Rider and I have a wife to get home to.”

The woman keyed through several screens of information, but her emerald green eyes narrowed as she closed window after window. After a minute had passed, she looked up apologetically and said, “I’m sorry, but there is no Marion ‘Storm’ Rider in our system. The closest name we have is Megan ‘Storm’ Rider.” She smiled. “Is it possible your name was spelled wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Marion said as he backed away from the counter, his horror evident.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful green eyes?” the attendant asked, a malicious smirk on her face, light dancing in her own emerald green eyes.

Marion ran for the lobby doors, but they seemed to recede the closer he got to them. He ran toward them again, but they kept receding, seemingly forever out of his reach.

“No. This isn’t really happening to me!” Marion cried out in frustration. “I’m having some sort of nightmare, that’s it! I’m ...,” he stared at his hands, too stunned to say anything as his nails began to grow, stretching beyond the tips of his feminizing fingers.

“You will come with us, bitch,” a cold, authoritative voice spoke from behind Marion. “You’ve got a job waiting for you.”

Marion whirled around and saw that the lobby attendant had been joined by four other women from the hotel’s security office. He felt a surge in adrenaline and started hopelessly for the lobby doors again, but a hypnotic music began to fill his head, and he began to feel hazy and lethargic. He came to a stop and his arms fell limply to his sides as the four security guards came up to him and began to escort him deeper into the Night Skies Hotel.

All the time, the hypnotic music — the same music played by the all-female band in the Tittie Bar — continued to fill Marion’s head.

***

Before long, the security guards had deposited Marion back in his suite. He collapsed into the sofa and looked around in a daze, still befuddled by the music in his head. Only now the music was also blaring from the television set , pulsating through the smoke-filled air in the suite as a pair of long-nailed feminine hands literally tore off Marion’s shirt while another pair of women’s hands began to shred his pants.

“You won’t be needing these clothes anymore,” a voice purred near Marion’s ear. “They cover too much of your body and, besides, would only be shredded by your transforming body.”

Marion looked in the voice’s direction and saw Tera, the escort he’d met earlier that night in one of the hotel’s bars. She was nude now. He glanced in the other direction, and spied a flame-haired woman, also nude. Marion didn’t recognize her.

“These are some of my friends, Marion,” a voice called out from one of the bedrooms. The voice grew nearer. “You’ve already met Tera. My other friend is Trissa, and she usually works in housekeeping.”

Marion recognized the voice. It was Mark’s. Or, rather, Marissa’s. She stood in front of him, completely nude as well, her cleavage bulging outward, a long, slender Capri 120 cigarette clasped sexily between her long-nailed feminine fingers.

Licking his lips, feeling them becoming fuller and more pouty, Marion stammered, “I failed, Mark, I failed. I’m sorry.”

“Failed? You failed the moment you checked in, Marion,” Marissa cooed. “And, please, call me Marissa. You wouldn’t like it if I called you Marion, would you, Megan?”

“I, I’m not Megan,” Marion stammered. He pressed deeper in the sofa’s cushions as Marissa drew nearer to him. “And you’re not Marissa, Mark! Clear your head!”

Marissa took a pull from her Capri 120 and blew a cloud of smoke in Marion’s face. “Oh, you were always so naïve, Marion. Always too trusting. Well, you’ll be much more worldly pretty soon, Megan.”

She leaned in and kissed Marion deeply, her sweet, pink tongue tangling briefly with his more reluctant one. She took another pull from her cigarette and resumed kissing Marion, filling his mouth with creamy white smoke. Marissa pulled back, grinning lasciviously as thin streams of smoke escaped from Marion’s full, pouty ruby red mouth.

“I wanna fuck him,” Trissa piped up. “I wanna feel his tits push against mine!”

“Me, too,” Tera chimed in. “How I long to see Megan born, to see her smoke and fuck like the rest of us!”

Marissa cooed at her sisters’ words, massaging her own prominent mammaries. “Yes,” she murmured, “let’s complete his transformation into one of us. Let’s help him become a wild woman!”

As the women guided Marion into his bedroom, he gathered his wits about him ever so briefly, only to see and feel his ass and hips begin to expand outward into female proportions, stretching his underwear — his only clothing left intact — taut for a moment before it tore off, exposing his soft, sweat-slicked, hairless skin. The haze returned as he was lowered onto his bed, his penis ramrod straight.

Marion ...

Mario ...

Mari ...

Mar ...

“No!” Marion cried out. “My name is Marion! Marion ‘Storm’ Rider is my name!”

A soft laugh. “Not for much longer,” Marissa cooed.

Marion felt her weight straddling his body, and watched helplessly as she grasped his penis and positioned herself above it. Marissa slowly lowered herself, and squealed with pleasure as his penis penetrated her swollen, dripping pussy. Soon she was riding him hard, his shaft completely buried within her, grasped by her vaginal muscles and slathered in her hot, vaginal sex secretions.

Marion marveled at how his sweaty body — now mostly hairless — had started to soften and round as Marissa fucked him, her tits bouncing up and down, a freshly lit Capri 120 dangling from her mouth as creamy white smoke swirled about. She leaned down, rubbing her breasts against his chest. He glanced over to his side and saw Tera and Trissa in each other’s arms, kissing and gently tickling sensitive spots, awaiting their turn with him. Marion brushed a lock of long, jet-black hair away from his emerald green eyes, but his luxurious mane of thick, soft hair continued to lengthen, crawling down past his shoulders. Marion reached out to caress Marissa’s firm, prominent mammaries with his soft, long-nailed hands.

“Yes, that’s it, Marion,” Marissa sighed, enjoying the feeling of another’s hands on her melons. “You were always meant to join our ranks.”

Marion ...

Mario ...

Mari ...

Mar ...

Ma ...

Megan cried out with pure pleasure as she pumped Marion’s seed deep into Marissa for the last time. Her penis began to go flaccid and it slipped out of Marissa’s dripping pussy, becoming pink and growing smaller before her eyes.

“Better hurry up, my sisters, if you want a piece of the action before Megan is completely here,” Marissa crowed triumphantly.

Tera and Trissa were all over Megan as Marissa, her part done, stood back, smoking and massaging her mammaries. Tera planted her pussy over Megan’s mouth, and she cooed as Megan’s dainty pink tongue began to flick along her outer and inner labial lips, culminating with a solid push against her clitoris. Trissa licked Megan’s nipples, and moaned with expectant delight as Megan’s aerolae began to expand and darken, quickly followed by her nipples growing fat and seductively prominent.

“Yes, it’s about to happen!” Trissa said breathlessly.

Tera pulled away from Megan’s face, which was slathered with hot fluids from Tera’s pussy. Megan smiled dreamily, her soft, round face almost glowing as soft, slight protrusions began to develop beneath her large nipples and wide, dark aerolae. The protrusions began to inflate and push outward, developing into a pair of firm mammaries. Tera and Trissa each took a swelling tit into their mouths, suckling on them as they continued to grow out of Megan’s soft, hairless and sweaty chest. The valley between Megan’s sprouting breasts continued to deepen as her glorious tits finally finished growing, bulging out of her chest at a man- and woman-stopping size 36D. Tera and Trissa removed their sexy mouths from Megan’s mammaries, and she caressed them gently, enjoying the small bolts of pleasure that arced through her body as she played with her nipples.

“And now for the final act,” Marissa said as she rejoined her sisters in Megan’s bed, her tongue flicking playfully against Megan’s miniature pink penis. “It’s pussy time!”

Megan spread her legs wide and ran her hand between her thighs, coming to rest near her shrunken penis. She felt an intense itching just above her penis and, moments later, a thick inverted triangular mat of black pubic hair sprouted. Megan moaned with anticipation as her scrotal sac tightened, split down the middle and then fused into the outer labial lips of her developing pussy. Inner lips began forming and the crevice began to push deeper into her body, seemingly chasing after her retreating balls, which were changing into ovaries. A Venus mound pushed outward slightly as her pussy began to lubricate itself, the remnant of her penis undergoing its final change into a hypersensitive clitoris, which was soon protected by a sheath of pink skin.

A quake rippled through Megan’s body, and her transformation was complete. Marion was now Megan and Megan was now Marion — the same soul, but radically altered both in physical and non-physical form.

Megan disengaged herself from her sisters and climbed out of the bed. She stretched, admiring her new physique. Turning to Marissa, she smiled sexily and asked, “So, what’s my new job, lover?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Marissa replied. Her emerald green eyes twinkled. “You’re going to be a dancer, just like me.” She paused. “In fact, I asked management for that to happen. I wanted us to do everything together, just like we did in our former lives.”

Megan reached over to Marissa’s pack of Capri 120 cigarettes. She placed a long, slender cigarette between her pouty lips, flicked a lighter, and inhaled deeply, the creamy white smoke filling her mouth and lungs.

“I’ll smoke, dance, drink and fuck to that,” Megan commented, a plume of smoke flowing from her mouth. She smiled and inhaled again, the tip of her Capri 120 glowing brightly.

The scenes in question are from an older story within the "Night Skies Hotel" universe, which is an ongoing effort I started in 2003. The story in question is "Night Skies Hotel II: Destiny's Path."

The universe is basically a sci-fi/fantasy story that I tried to differentiate from similar universes by adding in TG elements.

Yours in writing,

SolariWriter