Sissyficatio- 30 Books Mega Bundle Read online

  SISSYFICATION

  A 30 BOOK MEGA BUNDLE OF EROTIC TRANSGENDER ROMANCE

  BY

  NIKKI CRESCENT

  INCLUDED IN THIS MEGA BUNDLE:

  TRANS IN LAW

  BIG HARD SECRET

  PLAYING HER

  HOW TO BECOME A WOMAN

  CAUGHT

  WHAT’S YOUR PRICE?

  THE BIG SWITCH

  FISHNETS & SATIN GLOVES

  BOOTY CALL

  MIKEY NEEDS A GIRLFRIEND

  FEMINIZED FOR HER

  T4M

  FEMINIZED IN PRISON

  SHE USED TO BE A MAN

  TAKE IT FROM BEHIND

  BOARDING SCHOOL BIMBO

  FARM GIRL

  SWAPPED & SHARED

  CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

  FRESH NEW LOOK

  YOUR NEW PLAYTHING

  THREE WISHES

  THE SISSY VIRUS

  TRANS FOR RENT

  ROOMMATE DARES

  WOULD YOU STILL

  ARMY CHICK

  THE OTHER TEAM

  NEW EXPERIENCES

  IN TOO DEEP

  KEEPING UP WITH

  NIKKI CRESCENT

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  COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

  This book is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious and any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidence.

  Published By Honey Wagon Books

  Copyright © 2015 by Nikki Crescent

  Model License Holder: Ollyy Sanderson (Shutterstock Inc.)

  Background Image License Yoko-Onos-Balls (Shutterstock Inc.)

  Cover by Fleet Lebowski

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  TRANS IN LAW

  Derek’s father is about to tie the knot with his new girlfriend, which means Derek is about to get a new step-mom, and with her, a new step-sister: the insanely beautiful Kelsey.

  After Derek sees Kelsey’s picture for the first time, his dad has to tell him not to get too excited. The reason? Kelsey’s got a big, throbbing secret between her thighs.

  CHAPTER I

  When I saw my future sister-in-law’s picture for the first time, I was practically a drooling mess. She was hot. She had that long, straight hair that all the hottest girls had, and by the looks of it, she some nice, big, perky tits. She was a vixen, an easy ten out of ten. “Wow,” I said when my dad showed me the picture, not even noticing the image of my future mother-in-law (she was nothing compared to her daughter). “She’s going to be living here? With us?” I asked.

  My dad laughed, but I couldn’t figure out why. Surely he could see that his future daughter-in-law was a total fox. He had eyeballs, after all. “What?” I said.

  “Don’t get too excited, Derek,” he said, slipping the picture back into his wallet.

  “Why? Is she dating someone or something?”

  “She’s a he,” he said. It took me a minute to register what he’d said. “She’s been undergoing a sex change for the last four years.”

  “Let me see that picture again,” I said. I didn’t believe him. I thought for sure he was just screwing with me, tricking me into making a big fool of myself. After he handed me the photo, I was even more certain he was just messing with me. The girl in that picture was absolutely gorgeous. There was no way in hell that was someone born a man—it just couldn’t be. “Nice try,” I said.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. Ask Trish yourself.” Trish Morgan was my dad’s fiancée, the woman he was going to marry that very week, the woman who would be living in my house before the weekend. I took a closer look at the photo. There was no evidence to suggest that the vixen was really a man. There was no Adam’s apple, no masculine features, no visible hair clips—nothing.

  So later that night, I creeped her Facebook page. Her name was Kelsey Morgan. The posts on the page only went back a couple of years, which wasn’t necessarily evidence one way or the other. I found her Twitter page, and it was the same deal—created just a couple of years back. There were no statements admitting to undergoing a sex change, there were no before and after photos anywhere, no friends’ comments alluding to the allegation, and she wasn’t part of any LGBT groups. “He must be fucking with me,” I said to myself as I scrolled through her pictures.

  There was one particular picture of Kelsey in a skimpy bikini, where you could see her cleavage and her side-boobs perfectly. There was no sign of surgery that I could see, though I knew some implants went in through the areola, so there wouldn’t be a scar—so that wasn’t much proof either.

  I just didn’t believe my father—until I creeped my future mother-in-law, Trish’s Facebook page. There was an old family photo from her previous marriage, in which she was holding a young boy. As I continued my search, I found another handful of photos of her with the young boy. I did some more investigation, finding myself on her employer’s website. In the team section, I found Trish’s bio, which started with “Trish Morgan, senior-executive at Holt Insurance, mother of one…”

  So she was a mother of one, with plenty of old picture of her with a young boy—was that enough proof to make me believe? It seriously should have been, but I just couldn’t accept it.

  I didn’t get too close to Kelsey at my father’s wedding at first. I saw her from across the room. She was wearing this knee-length red dress that was skin-tight, hugging her perfect tits miraculously. Her legs looked like they belonged to a goddess. Her hair was done up beautifully in a curly sort-of half-bun (excuse my lack of hair terminology). I made a point of checking out her feet, on which she had in a pair of red heels to match her dress. They didn’t look like big feet, like you would expect from a person born a man. Even her hands looked small.

  I even made a point of getting a good look at her throat. I thought that, if she was really a transgender, maybe she was photoshopping her Adam’s apple out of her photos. Maybe she wasn’t so convincing in real life, but there was no sign of any lump on her throat. She really was convincing.

  I looked around at the other men in the room, trying to see if any of th
em had invisible Adam’s apples or small feet that could possibly fit into small pairs of heels. I mean, there is no surgery or treatment to make your feet small, is there? Can you get rid of your Adam’s apple?

  No one else seemed to be too curious about her. The people I saw talking to her didn’t look put off and they didn’t seem to question her female validity. Maybe my dad was just screwing with me. Maybe he was just worried I would fall for my step-sister, so he was doing some questionable damage control. But then how do you explain the old pictures of Trish with the little boy? What happened to that little boy?

  I excused myself to use the bathroom, making a point of passing Kelsey to get a closer look. I got within five feet of her, but she looked over at me and I panicked. I kept my gaze on the bathrooms and I didn’t get a chance to get a good look at her, though I did get a good whiff of her. She smelled amazing. I thought, if she planned on wearing that perfume at our house, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I would be a weak mess, a puddle.

  Later in the night, I watched her take to the dance floor with one of my cousins, some apparently handsome football jock. She was a good dancer, and it was nice to watch her long, smooth legs work their magic. I don’t think she was wearing a bra, because her perfect tits had a good, drool-inspiring bounce to them. My cousin clearly had the hots for her, taking glances down her cleavage whenever he had the chance, getting his face as close to her as possible whenever the music slowed down. He didn’t get any further than that, but I still found myself feeling jealous. Though I made myself feel better by reminding myself she might not have even been a she at all.

  It was near the end of the night that she came up to me. She tapped on my shoulder. “You’re Derek, right?” I turned to her and found myself frozen and useless. She was so beautiful and she smelled so good. She had a glow about her that was irresistible. And her voice wasn’t even remotely masculine. I just nodded my head stupidly. “Ready to live together, starting tomorrow?”

  I found myself staring into her eyes, lips parted, lost in her perfection. If she really was a man, she had the greatest team of surgeons on the planet. I’d seen pictures of trans people on the internet—none of them were really convincing, let’s face it. Sure, some of them looked alright, but you could always tell. “Huh?” I ended up saying.

  “Are you read to live together?” she said again.

  “Oh yeah, totally,” I said.

  She smiled. “I feel like we should hug. Are we technically brother and sister now?”

  “I guess so,” I said, still in a half-daze. She reached her arms around me and gave me a tight hug. God, her body was soft. I could feel her tits pressing against my chest. They felt incredible, and real. She sure as hell didn’t feel like a man. She was small and light. I could have picked her up and squeezed her. She was like a ragdoll. I could have done anything with her. And my God, that perfume—that tantalizing, heart-melting perfume.

  “Maybe you can help me set up my room,” she said.

  “Sure.” I was slightly disappointed when she finally released me—and I was slightly glad. Just at the end of our hug, I thought I felt something: a bulge. Maybe it was in my head, or maybe I really felt it gently press up against my thigh. I took a quick glance down, but couldn’t see any bulge. If she was a trans girl, did she still have her cock?

  The worst part about the whole mystery was the fact that there was no way to really know for sure. Unless Kelsey or her mom told me outright that she was in fact born a man, how could I know? Maybe that was my dad’s plan all along, to plant that seed in my mind so I would keep my hands to myself, and it was working. If Kelsey was for sure a woman, I would have been all over her. I would have been on that dance floor, pulling her tightly into me, slipping my hand subtly onto her perfect ass. God, what I would have done to grab a handful of that perky, round butt!

  The next morning (or I should say, early afternoon), I was awoken by the rumbling of an approaching moving truck. Kelsey and her mom—my new step-mother and step-sister—were arriving.

  CHAPTER II

  Nursing a bit of a hangover, I decided to stay in bed while my dad helped the girls unload their truck. The hangover was also a nice excuse to get out of doing the work, though it didn’t last long. I’d barely begun to doze back off when there was a knock at my door. “What’s up?” I called out, and then the door opened.

  Kelsey slipped into my room. She was wearing a loose-fitted tank-top. The arm-holes were cut so deep, you could see the whole sides of her tits, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. The sight alone was enough to make me half-hard. “Tired?” she said.

  “I’ve got a pretty nasty hangover.” I rolled over.

  “Too bad. You said you’d help me set up my room. Get up.” She walked up to the side of my bed and bent over. Her nipples were pushing up against the soft fabric of her top. She smelled different, sweeter, but still amazing. I had this sudden desire to pull her down onto the bed with me. Had I been totally sure she was a woman, I just might have pulled her down onto the bed with me, explored her soft body with my hands, squeezed those perfect tits. Instead, I played it cool.

  “Give me a minute to get dressed,” I said, and then she smiled and left. I really needed a minute to get soft. Her body was like a cock magnet—the closer she got to me, the harder I got. I gave myself a minute to calm down and then I got dressed.

  I was surprised at just how much stuff Kelsey and her mom brought with them. Their entire truck was packed full, and somehow, they managed to get all of it into our house. Kelsey must have had twenty boxes that needed unpacked in her bedroom—books that needed loaded into her bookshelves, old stuffed animals that needed to be scattered about. I didn’t know where she wanted anything, so I got the job of unloading the many boxes of books. “Order doesn’t matter,” she said, which made things straight forward enough.

  I found myself distracted more than a few times—the first time when I noticed Kelsey was unpacking some lingerie into her closet. My Lord, it was some spicy lingerie, with lots of lace and straps and so on. She held up one particular red number, which I started to imagine her wearing. It wouldn’t have done much to keep her tits in place, and it was sheer enough that you would have been able to see everything. From what I could tell, there was an opening where the pussy went—or maybe where her cock went. I still didn’t know what she had down there.

  When she bent over to make her bed, I found myself staring once again. Her little short shorts rode up and I could see her red panties. It looked like there was a bulge in there, but that could have been the bulge of her plump pussy.

  At one point, while I was sitting on the ground, putting books into her bottom shelf, she stepped up behind me, leaned over me, and started to place some of her teddies into the bookshelf. Her thighs were touching my shoulders and her crotch was against the back of my head. If she was a woman, all I would have had to do was tilt my head up and I could have been eating her out. Then again, if she was a man, her ball sack was currently pressed up against the back of my head. Talk about feeling conflicted.

  At the bottom of the final box of books was a vibrator. I had to do a double take when I saw it. It was long and purple, with a gold handle. I looked over my shoulder at Kelsey, who had her back turned to me. I picked the vibrator up and looked at it. It was thick—thicker than my own cock, which wasn’t a bad size. I was pretty sure every girl owned a vibrator, but what if Kelsey wasn’t a girl? Did that mean that big, vibrating purple cock went up her asshole? Would it even fit?

  “What, you’ve never seen a dildo before?” she said, her lips right next to my ear. I nearly jumped into the air and screamed. She must have snuck up behind me. She took the vibrator from me with a sly smirk on her face. “You look devastated. You aren’t religious or something, are you?”

  “Huh? Me? No,” I said, trying to play it cool. I couldn’t get the image of her out of my head—the image of her on her back, naked, legs spread out, vibrator pushing up into her asshole, her big hard cock
laying on her stomach. No matter how hard I tried, that image remained in my brain.

  “Your cheeks are all red,” she said, giggling. “That’s cute. It’s just a dildo. Get over yourself.”

  “I know—I don’t care. It’s fine,” I said. It would have been fine had I known for sure she was a woman. But I didn’t know that. My curiosity was only getting more intense, more unignorable. Sure, I was planning on moving out in a few months, but did that mean I would have to endure a few months of this obsessive mystery?

  She stood in the middle of her bedroom, holding the long purple vibrator up, with one hand on her hip. She still had that sly smirk on her face, and damn, did she look hot in that loose top and those tiny short shorts. It was amazing, just how smooth her skin was, how piercing her eyes were. She was seeping into my brain, taking over, turning me into nothing but mush.

  “That’s all your books. I’m going to go and get some homework done,” I said, and then I zipped out of her room. I had a throbbing erection. I just couldn’t shake that image from my brain, her on her back, vibrator in her asshole, rigid cock on her stomach. I could just imagine her plunging that big toy in and out of her body, using her other hand to stroke the length of her cock, getting faster and faster, eventually beating herself madly, head rolling from side to side in a state of euphoria.

  I locked my door and whipped out my cock. I started to jerk myself off. The only way I could think to get the image out of my mind was to indulge and get it out of my system. I imagined her big tits jiggling gently on her chest. I imagined her coming into her clenched fist, her cum squishing through her fingers as she slowly stroked her length, spreading her warm goo all over her cock. I imagined that big vibrator deep, deep, deep in her asshole, buzzing, making her quiver and squirm. It didn’t take me long before I ejaculated, spraying a warm, heavy load all over the side of my desk. It felt amazing. And it was good, it was what I needed. I was able to regain control of myself, realize I was getting lost in an inexplicable lust.