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Part 1: Bodyswap | Breeding | Fantastical

Part 1: Sexy Brat Piano Student Transforms Into Her Older Tutor And Uses Her New Cock To Shoot Cum In Her Past Pussy!

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Part 1:

Mr. Reacher opened the door to his grand, picturesque cottage, smiling to Lacey who waited patiently on the other side. She showed that cutesy grin of hers that made Mr. Reacher melt. His wife never looked that happy anymore. His wife didn’t wear plaid miniskirts either. That was a choice Lacey had made near the start of their lessons together after discovering how handsome her new tutor looked.

“I hope you’ve been practicing,” Mr. Reacher said. “Maybe we can move onto the Grand Piano today.”

“Yes!” Lacey cheered. “I’ve waited so long for that.”

Mr. Reacher’s pride and joy was a polished, mahogany Steinway. His students were allowed to play it, but only when they reached a certain level of skill.

Today was the day that Lacey hoped to graduate to the deluxe model, having learned on a Casio keyboard in these opening few months. Her progress has astounded Mr. Reacher and he’d had to ask several times if she’d been trained before.

“All you have to do today is pass,” Mr. Reacher smiled. “The fourth movement of Beethoven’s Hammerklaiver.”

The piece was notoriously difficult. What Lacey didn’t know though, is that Mr. Reacher wouldn’t be judging her on her mistakes, but on her composure and attitude to learning. No-one ever made it close to completing the piece with no errors.

Lacey took her sheet and set it on the music stand. She brushed her skirt under her smooth, milky legs and pulled the stool beneath her closer to the keyboard. Mr. Reacher watched on from a seat beside her. He looked over Lacey’s shoulder at the music in front of her.

“Would you like a drink or anything before we begin?” Mr. Reacher said.

“I’m good.”

Just then a storm that had been brewing began to form above the small village that Mr. Reacher’s idyllic cottage stood. He’d spent the best part of his life saving for his home and at forty-five years old, he figured he’d made it in good time to fully enjoy the fruits of his labor.

The dark clouds blotted out the sunshine until the room the pair of them were in fell so dark that it was tough for either of them to read the music on the stand.

“I’ll put a light on,” Mr. Reacher said, and on the way to the switch he looked out of the window at the bubbling clouds forming.

“I hope that’s not an omen,” joked Lacey.

“You’ll be fine. Just do your best.”

Mr. Reacher turned on the light and returned beside Lacey. She took a deep breath to compose herself. Mr. Reacher watched as her big breasts pressed against her t-shirt. Her bra seemed thinner today.

“When you’re ready,” he said softly.

Lacey found his low, deep voice comforting. He’d never once been angry at her or showed her anything but respect. Lacey couldn’t say the same about all the other men in her life.

Her eyes closed and she focused. The music played in her head. Her fingers started to dance around the keyboard and Mr. Reacher’s eyes closed too.

Initially he wore a frown that soon flattened and then blossomed in a warm smile. Lacey made the keyboard sing in a way that no student ever had before.

Lacey’s talent was unrivaled for someone so new. To Mr. Reacher she was like a rare, tropical bird that was unaware of her beauty, both in piano skills and attractiveness. He saw something in Lacey that he felt few others had spotted.

Lacey focused on the page and transcended to another plane. The storm above her rumbled as her fingers danced frantically over the keyboard, but the power of the music was so strong that they could ignore it.

Mr. Reacher watched now, mesmerized by the sight before him. It was as though the nineteen-year-old had channeled the spirit of Beethoven himself, and where once Mr. Reacher was happy to see mistakes, now he was hoping there were none.

Lacey played beautifully, with a passion reserved only for the most private of moments. Mr. Reacher felt privileged that he could see Lacey lose herself in the music like this.

Her fingers fluttered down the keys and Mr. Reacher watched them closely. The music faded into the background as he saw those slender digits dance. A rumble of thunder above permeated over the music and added to its intensity.

Mr. Reached tried to ignore it. He tried too to ignore the flickering of the lights in the room. Lacey didn’t need to try. She’d channeled her focus. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Mr. Reacher swelled with emotion as he watched his younger student do something with his keyboard that no student ever had before.

He found himself transported to a simpler time, but the crack of lightning above brought him crashing back to reality.

Lacey’s fingers skipped with blistering speed. She frantically tapped out the notes and Mr. Reacher’s excitement grew as he watched. She hadn’t yet missed a note and her timing was impeccable.

Not wanting to sully the experience, Mr. Reacher moved his hands quickly to the keyboard with a mind of stopping Lacey where she was. She’d proven more to him than necessary.

Lacey startled as his hand hovered above hers. A lightning bolt sounded above, striking the weathervane on the cottage chimney stack. The boom and crack made them both realize that the storm was happening directly over Mr. Reacher’s house.

Instinctively Mr. Reacher grabbed Lacey’s hand as it struck the keys. At the same time a surge of electricity fired through the keyboard, leaping from the faux-ivory keys and straight into the pair’s bodies.

The lights were extinguished, and the room sank into darkness as both Mr. Reacher and Lacey were thrust backwards by the sudden burst of power.

They landed hard on the rug behind, shocked by the force that had tossed them effortlessly to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Reacher asked Lacey, but something didn’t feel right.

He pushed his face up off the carpet and looked across at his own reflection. He didn’t remember there being a mirror there. Mr. Reacher soon realized his reflection didn’t match his movements. Not only that, but his voice wasn’t his own.

“Lacey?” he said, and it came from his plump, pink lips at a higher pitch than usual.

“Mr. Richards?” Lacey said, and she put a hand to her stubbled throat. She felt her Adam’s apple and hummed. The vibrations shivered into her fingers. She spied a wedding band one on of them.

“Mr. Richards, I …” Lacey began, panicked. She got to her feet and looked down at Mr. Richards’ buttoned cardigan and open shirt. She could see that she now possessed chest-hair.

Mr. Richards was in a similar state of bewilderment. He pushed up slowly from the floor and felt his dress ripple above his knees. He took a breath and his new breasts pressed against his tight-fitting t-shirt.

“Lacey,” Mr. Richards said, looking across at his former self. “I think something most unusual has just occurred.

“You can say that again,” Lacey said, and the storm rumbled overhead some more.

Lacey pressed her hands over her new body. At her chest there were no breasts. Her bum was more muscled than before. Her hands teased around to the front of her pants, but she didn’t yet want to confront what lay inside them. She’d dreamed so much about being able to touch Mr. Richards’ cock, but none of her fantasies had played out like this…

Continued In Part 2…

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