It was, of course, not really her outfits that Mariel was in a hurry to see. Still flush with arousal from her change, she stepped into her room, her breathing and heart rate already quickening in anticipation. Surely nobody could blame her for wanting to explore her new features in a more... intimate way.
She did spare a look around the room though. In many ways it still looked the same. Her tastes had not shifted much, after all. But there were two noticeable differences. One was that an old nearly-empty chest of drawers had morphed into a vanity. The other was that a large framed photo of Mike in his college football uniform had changed into one of Mariel in the girls' soccer uniform.
Seeing this brought a warm smile to the stripper's face. She not only looked really good even in the relatively modest outfit, but there was something reassuring in seeing the continuity between the pictures. A confirmation that she was still her sporty self, just able to explore things she never could in her old male body.
In addition to the mirror that had appeared with the vanity, she remembered there was a full-length one built into the back of the door. She'd never had much use for it as Mike, but now she decided to get a good look at herself before getting down to business.
Twirling around, she put her hands behind her head. She admired the way her clothes showed off her body, the tight cargo pants and crop top hugging and emphasising her curves. She traced the new tattoo over her womb, her taut, sensitive skin shivering as she did so. She loved how pretty it looked while emphasising her womanhood and her pride in her sexuality.
"Ohhh... I could get used to this."
Even though the mental changes with the preset were minor, just enough to ease her into her new role as a stripper, it was already had to think she'd ever been a man. If her old sex had any lingering impact on her, it was to appreciate just how sensual and curvy she was as she began to practice a strip-tease, posing and working off her top, shoes, shorts, socks and finally her panties.
Her desire for herself built up higher and higher as she ran her hands seductively over the now-bare swell of her hips, ass and breasts. Her skin was silky smooth, supple yet firm. Hefting her breasts, she groaned as she felt the weight shift from her back to her hands, the full round masses wobbling, sending shivers of pleasure through her. She pressed them together, creating a deep canyon of cleavage, imagining how turned on by this she would have been as a man. How other men would react to seeing this deliciousness awesomeness in action.
She slid her hands around to the top of her tits, letting them fall, laughing as they bounced. They she brought her fingers down. Gently -- almost hesitantly -- splaying them around her areolae, squeezing a bit at the overflowing handfuls that magical program had given her. She could feel her groin squeeze in sympathy, clitoris hard and throbbing, wet feminine juices running down her legs.
Then in a rush she brought her fingers together and rolled her nipples between them. She gasped and nearly screamed, her legs trembling so badly she had to catch herself on the door. She took one last look at her beautiful face in the mirror, long hair falling forward to give her dilated eyes a wild frame, then threw herself back on the bed.
"Oh yeah..." she panted. She resumed playing with her nipples, stroking them with her thumb and gingerly pulling at them. She had always enjoyed playing with her wife's breasts, while secretly wondering what it was like. Now she knew, and she could hardly believe how sensitive they how, how they rolled and pressed against her chest, how fat and stiff the nipples were in her fingers.
I wonder how it feels to... milk? She couldn't think of the correct term in the haze of passion, and it didn't matter. But for a moment her mind was flooded with the image of lactation, life-giving white fluid accumulating inside her tits to come gushing out of these so-sensitive natural spigots.
One hand continued to knead her breast in pursuit of this fantasy while the other at last began to dance its way down her stomach to her neglected pussy. Best for last. She'd been dying to experience her new loins since the change, to feel this defining shift in her anatomy. To really feel like a woman.
She circled her mound slowly, wetting her fingers with her overflowing lube. On a whim, she brought them up to her face, a few drops splashing on her body along the way, making her wriggle feverishly. She inhaled deeply, intoxicating herself with her new, female scent -- and before she knew it, she had popped her fingertips into her mouth. Even with no witnesses, she felt embarrassed -- but damn, she tasted good!
With renewed confidence she slid her hands back down her body, writhing under her own sensuous touch, imagining what it would be like to have a man on top of her. Or maybe a woman. Caressing her. Telling her what a beautiful woman she was. Thrusting into her -- and as she imagined that, she let a finger slip inside.
"Oh God!" She couldn't believe that her fantasy of being penetrated was coming true! For the first time, something parted her folds, pushed deep into her. The sensation was alien, but at the same time... so right. She couldn't believe it. Soon a second finger joined her first in diving into her honey pot, then a third.
She might have worked her way up to the whole hand had her thumb not brushed up against her clit. The large pleasure button was poking lewdly from her hood, almost like it was still a mini cock, but insanely more sensitive. And that one touch was all it took to send her over the edge.
There was no holding back her scream this time. She arched her back, pushing desperately against her hands as she experienced her first female orgasm. Whiteness obscured her vision, a blinding heat that seemed to electrify her whole body and melt her into a moaning, gasping puddle of pleasure.
"Oh God... oh God..." She wasn't sure how much time had passed while she lay on her bed, eyes closed, beatific smile curving her luscious red lips. "Oh God... that was the most amazing thing..."
Languidly she sat up, stretching, enjoying the pop of muscles in her athletic back and shoulders. Then she remembered that she was missing her game. "Ah shoot," she murmured, not losing her smile. This was more than worth it. She'd catch the rest later -- she had it set to record before she'd come up to check on Jeff.
Getting up, she went to the closet -- at long last examining her new otufits. Here the change was quite noticeable -- all her old clothing was now female. In addition to day wear, there were several skimpy outfits that she would wear on the job. And in addition to her old footwear -- now sleek and heeled -- she had two pairs of stripper heels.
At the moment, she just slid on a bathrobe and flip-flops and headed downstairs to order that pizza and catch the game.
Oh good, not even half-time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, Jeff had been left in a state. His own lust was at max, his dick uncomfortably big and pulsing, angry at being confined in his boxers. He was really tempted to get some relief himself. However, the thought of jacking off with the images of his father-turned-mother sill burned into his mind made him feel even more uncomfortable than his confined cock.
Plus he had plans for the Chronivac, plans he didn't want to put off. Especially now that he knew it worked as advertised. Though with how riled up he was, those plans had taken on a decidedly more sexual skew.