Source: http://erotica.qalexandrian.com/stories/7/different

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Different
by qalexandrian

I knew I wanted to be different since I was a little girl. I always had fantasies of becoming someone or something else. I wasn’t really sure what—maybe I wanted to be an animal, or an alien, or a goddess—but I definitely didn’t fancy the idea of being an ordinary human. It just felt wrongsomehow. I can’t explain it.

I had hoped that, as I got older, the feelings would go away, and they sorta did. They didn’t really disappear, though; they just changed into something else. When I went through puberty, I grew extremely excited by my changing body, and I became enamored with my changes. I couldn’t wait for my breasts to grow bigger and sexier, and I would watch my legs get longer and more beautiful every day. It was like wish fulfillment for me, seeing my body grow, and for a while I was glad—it seemed like my childhood fantasies really were just misguided imagination, and now that I’d matured, I realized that all I’d really wanted was to be a woman. Call me shallow, but my ample breasts, my shapely curves, and my pretty face felt good. They weren’t for anyone else. They were for me.

Eventually, though, the changes slowed, and before long, they seemed to stop altogether. I was no longer changing, and as I grew more and more aware of that fact, familiar anxieties crept back into my head. I had become a young woman, yes, with all the things that entailed, but I wanted to be different! I didn’t want to stop! I wanted my changes to keep flowing, to turn me into something unique… something inhuman.

Those were scary thoughts.

Of course, with my newfound body came newfound urges, too, and with them came newfound fantasies. No longer did I merely have vague wishes to be distinct, I had new ideas that were both simpler and far stranger than the desires I’d ever had before. I would lie awake at night, touching myself, wondering what it would be like to have a tail, or extra arms, or maybe even a second head. The idea of how people would react was frightening, but just thinking about how amazing it would feel to have such a sexy, special body would give me warm shivers. Often those warm shivers would lead to a sweeter, stickier sort of excitement, and for a long while, that was my bedtime ritual.

Obviously, I never told anyone about my deviant fantasies, and as I finished high school and left for college, other things fought for attention in my mind. I thought about my creative desires less and less, though I certainly never forgot about them, and when I had some time to myself, it was likely that I’d slip my hand under my pants and enjoy the picture of myself with an exotic body in my mind’s eye.

This just so happened to be one of those nights. I was full of alcohol, completely exhausted, and apparently very needy, so I snuck away from the party a little bit early and wandered back to my (fortunately empty) dorm room. I happily nestled myself under the covers, blushed just a bit, and, a dozen muffled squeals later, fell fast asleep.

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I woke up with an incredible headache and the realization that I’d fallen asleep in my clothes. I rubbed my eyes and glanced to my left—my roommate, Katherine, was still snoring softly under the covers. I picked my phone up off the floor and glanced at the time: 10 o’clock.

I kicked off my bedsheets and swung myself out of bed, careful not to trample over the bottom of my rather long skirt. I stumbled over to my small desk and clutched my head, feeling very odd and almost having trouble walking without toppling over. I grabbed my water bottle and took a sip, not feeling particularly dizzy, just tired. I sat down on the chair and crossed my legs, accidentally banging my calf against the wood of the desk (which really should have been a clear sign, but hey…).

“Ouch,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my right calf and logging in to my computer. I idly browsed for a few minutes, then shut it off—I wasn’t doing anything, and I felt sweaty and gross after sleeping in my clothes all night. I sighed and decided I really ought to take a shower, so I went to grab some clothes to put on once I was nice and clean.

I was in the middle of picking out a top when I noticed something strange: there, on the floor were my sandals from last night, except that there were three of them. That didn’t make any sense… I’d somehow managed to lose shoes before (seriously, how does that even happen?), but finding a new one was a first. My first thought was that Katherine must have a pair just like them, and somehow one of them ended up next to mine, but that didn’t make much sense, given that I’d never seen her wearing sandals at all.

I tossed the shirt I’d pulled out onto the bed and bent over to look at the shoes, and I immediately realized that something wasn’t right… two of them were the ones I had seen a million times, but one of them was weird. It didn’t look like a left sandal or a right sandal, it just looked totally symmetrical, but otherwise it looked exactly like my other two. Perplexed, I picked all three of them up to put them in the closet, figuring I’d ask Kat about the mysterious third sandal, but when I opened the closet up I did a small double take.

All of my shoes were now arranged in sets of threes.

Alright, so, obviously this was a practical joke, albeit an extremely impressive one—all of the triplets of shoes were neatly arranged, just like how I had left them, except that there were three of each now. Again, the third shoe in each collection—the one placed in the middle of each set—didn’t look like a left or right shoe, but it looked eerily like its siblings. Whoever went through the effort to do this rather odd prank must’ve really poured a ton of energy into getting things just right. There was a third tennis shoe, a third flipflop, a third high heel… three of everything. Weird.

After staring at them all for something like thirty seconds, my groggy brain made a tiny realization: what had I been fantasizing about last night? I blushed a little once more as my thoughts went back to my sexual daydream of myself with, of all things, three legs. Normally I didn’t pay the concept of shoes too much heed during those sessions of self-love, but I realized, staring at all the shoes now sitting before me, that of course they would be necessary! Which meant that somehow, someone knew about my strange kink, and they went through all the trouble to set this up? Who would do such a thing? And what the heck were they getting out of it?

Unless… but no… there was no way.

I stared down at my skirt, heart pounding. This was all too weird, I thought to myself, and I was quickly becoming convinced I was actually still asleep and dreaming. It actually made a lot of sense, given what had happened and what I’d seen. Still, as long as I was in this dream, I figured I would enjoy it, so I tugged up the bottom of my skirt and gasped—I really did see three cute little feet!

I bit my lip and breathed deeply. I realized I could actually feel the third leg pressed against my outer two, and I could feel my middles toes pressed against the floor. It had felt so natural that I hadn’t even noticed it, but now that I was focusing on it I could feel it clear as day. It was so incredibly tantalizing, and I wasted no time in tearing off my skirt and hopping onto my bed, staring hungrily at my three slender legs and the three-legged panties I was now miraculously wearing. I had two vaginas now, I knew that was true—I could feel each one warmly nestled between my legs—and I wanted to touch them and enjoy them. I peeled off my linen panties and actually squirmed at the sight of them: I could actually feel the cool air against each of the slits, and even though I knew this was a dream, it felt wonderfully real.

I didn’t waste much time getting to work, sliding my hands over my beautiful thighs and slipping my fingers in and out of my twin pussies. I moaned at the sensations, sliding my outer feet against my middle leg, totally entranced by how that felt. I pushed myself further and further, grinning wider and wider, and in just a couple of minutes I’d managed to get my right pussy to cum. The climax was incredible, and the excitement spilled over into my left side, which orgasmed soon after, and I squealed in pleasure at the lovely feeling. I sat there for a long while, reveling in the glow of my beautiful body’s totally unique orgasm.

When I opened my eyes again, I realized I was still in the dream, and my legs were still there. I was surprised—normally in my sex dreams I woke up as soon as I came, though admittedly this was way more vivid than any sex dream I’d ever had. I was about to take off my top and rub my breasts a bit when I got the strange feeling I was being watched… I turned my head, and sure enough…

“Oh my god, Kat!”

“It’s about goddamn time, miss,” my roommate smiled nonchalantly. “I was beginning to wonder if you didn’t even masturbate.”

“I thought you were asleep—” I started, feeling extremely embarrassed. I shouldn’t care, given that this was a dream, though, right?

“Is that how you’ve gotten away with it? Well! I’ve been missing out.” She stood up and stretched.

“Missing out?” I asked innocently, though I pretty much knew what she was getting at: Katherine was quite bi, openly so.

“It was hot, duh,” she enthusiastically replied. “Even hotter with those two pussies of yours, I’d always wondered how you did it…”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. My two pussies…? I mean, yeah, obviously I had two pussies now, but why did she phrase it like that?

“Always…?” I asked timidly, not sure how to phrase the question.

“Well, yeah. I’ve told you before I think your legs are hot.”

She had, though in the past I had only had two of them.

“So you don’t think it’s weird I have three legs?” I asked incredulously.

Katherine looked right at me and blinked, and at first I thought she might have finally realized how weird this all was. In reality, though, all she said was a curt, “Um… no?” She tilted her head confusedly. “I mean, you’ve always had three legs. I would be really weird if, like, I had three legs!” She laughed really hard at that, as if she thought she’d made a really funny joke. “But they’re normal on you. Well, as ‘normal’ as ‘jaw-droppingly sexy’ can be, I guess,” she added, giggling.

I was dumbfounded. This didn’t feel like a dream anymore; it was getting way too real. “Why is that? Why are they normal on me but not normal on anyone else?” I asked, confused and exasperated.

“Huh? They… just are, I guess.” Katherine looked genuinely perplexed by the question. “What’s gotten into you this morning, anyway? I’m sorry I caught you diddling yourself, but honestly, it’s no big deal—everyone does it. It’s not like you haven’t seen me doing it.”

I shook my head in wonder. Somehow, I had three legs, and my roommate thought that was totally normal. I just had to be dreaming, right? It just all felt so real! I looked at my naked legs, sitting atop one another on the bed, and I couldn’t help but admire them. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up…

…but I was feeling rather sticky.

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I made my way down the hall to the showers, feeling a little bit weird stumbling along with my three-legged gait. I was glad I was wearing a skirt, or it would have been especially awkward as I barely staggered along. Somehow, during those warm nights, I never thought all that hard about what it would be like to live with the changes—I just wanted to touch two pussies, to squirm underneath the sheets with three legs… and goodness, now I sort of had. And really, it had been every bit as incredible as I had hoped it would be…

Focus.

The whole thing felt so surreal that I felt like I was swimming instead of walking, but the rhythmic pounding of my bare feet against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor and the swishing of the fabric against my hairless skin was enough to keep me grounded. It was too vivid to be a dream, I had to admit that to myself, but it was too good to be real. It was some trance, or maybe some drug-induced hallucination. Maybe the memories of leaving the party were just a part of my delusion. My head pounded, and my body felt sore, but the feeling of standing on three feet—three feet of mine, feet that I could feel and move and enjoy—was sotantalizing, and the idea of warm water trickling over my beautiful new ass…

Breathe.

I silently thanked fate that there was nobody else in the bathroom as I twisted the shower knob and began to strip. I pulled off my shirt and unclasped my bra, then stared down at my skirt and just marveled for a minute or so. I rubbed my bleary eyes and finally tugged at the elastic around my waist, carefully stepping out of the ring of fabric at my feet. I hadn’t bothered to put my magically provided three-holed panties back on, so I stood in the middle of the bathroom, quite nude. I slid my hands over my smooth ass and sighed as I carefully stepped into the warm water and let it flow over my smooth, exotic body. The rivulets dripped between my cheeks and streamed down the insides of my thighs. It all felt so sensual…

Relax.

I leaned against the cold shower wall and shivered slightly. My pussies were already aflame once again, and it would be so easy to reach down and touch them… nobody would have to know. This time there was no Katherine to peep, nobody to ogle at my strangeness. Not that she seemed to think it was strange, of course. If anything, she seemed like she wanted to get into my pants more than ever. I slid down the tile wall, hands between my legs, and wondered what that would feel like.

Submit.

I blushed at where my thoughts had turned, the idea of Kat seeing me like this and enjoying it turning me on. I had never craved sex, despite Katherine’s best efforts to sell me on the concept, but after so many months even she had finally given up. This morning, though, there was a fire in her eyes… she’d caught me fingering myself, kicking and squirming, panting and gasping for breath as my fingers—ah!—my fingers squeezed my two clits, my legs rubbing against—oooh—each other and getting covered in my own sticky juices, my soft lips parting and a tiny squeal of pleasure bursting forth as finally—

“Aaahhhooo, yesssss!”

I toppled over onto my knees onto the floor of the wet shower, the water pounding against my back, the sound of my euphoric shriek echoing against the tile walls. I breathed heavily and tried to catch my breath, when suddenly, I realized…

Oh fuck that was really loud, wasn’t it?

I froze. I could’ve sworn I heard something. Was… was there someone in the bathroom with me? Oh shit oh shit oh shit, nobody could know what I was doing! Uuugh, why had I just done that, anyway? I had just felt so needy, and the water felt so nice… I shakily pulled myself up on my three trembling legs and tried to peek over the shower door for signs of motion. To my great relief, it didn’t seem like anyone was in the bathroom after all, and I could only hope that I hadn’t been loud enough to attract any attention.

I put one hand on my chest and felt the pitter patter of my anxious heart slowly start to subside, and I reached for the soap with the other and began to lather it over my sore, sticky body.