Witch Switch Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Excerpt

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Thanks for Reading

  Preview

  About the Author

  WITCH SWITCH

  Halloween Gender Swap: Book 1

  by

  Alyson Belle

  Copyright © 2017 Alyson Belle

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters in this book are over the age of 18 (18+ only). All characters, locations, and situations are entirely fictional representations and any resemblance to real world scenarios are entirely coincidental.

  You can see more of Alyson Belle’s work, get in touch, and follow her blog on AlysonBelle.com.

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  An excerpt from Witch Switch:

  Mitch approached me with a look of utter appreciation, and I didn’t have to tell him what I needed with words—my pleading eyes told the whole story. As he drew near, his eyes flicked up and down my body and registered surprise.

  “What?” I gasped, still not able to take my eyes off his throbbing cock.

  He shook his head. “Nothing… I saw that outfit you’re wearing on another… erm, girl, earlier tonight. Guess it’s popular. What did you say your name was?”

  “No names. Shut up. Kiss me.” I didn’t want him to ask questions or over-think this. Hell, I didn’t want to over-think this either, or else I might start doubting myself, but there was nothing I wanted more than Mitch inside of me, right now. My body was aching for it, and another tremor of need ran through me, lifting the downy hairs at the nape of my neck.

  Mitch stepped closer with a throaty growl and ran warm hands around my ass on either side. His skin was rough and manly, but it felt amazing against my hairless flanks, and when he squeezed hard I cooed and tensed my muscles against him. His smell wafted toward me, aftershave and deodorant, clean and manly, and I inhaled deeply, my chest swelling with the breath. He leaned in to kiss me. My head dropped back as our lips met, his mouth hungry and wet and needy, exploring my depths. His hand gently brushed my fingers aside, letting my panties fall back into place over my sex, and ran a few exploratory sweeps up the lacy fabric at my crotch, teasing me and making me squirm for more.

  As I drew a series of deep, ragged breaths, his questing mouth moved to the side of my face, showering me with kisses and moving down to my neck, where he gently nipped and sucked at me. Wherever his teeth made contact, my body froze and relaxed, like a powerful predator had me in its teeth—but I didn’t feel afraid. I just felt wanted. Taken. Claimed as his. It was a warm, happy feeling that radiated through me and made me wiggle with pleasure and need.

  “Ohhh, that feels so good,” I moaned.

  Mitch hooked his thumbs beneath the edges of my panties and continued to kiss my neck. “Is this okay?” he whispered hoarsely, tugging them down a few inches and toying them back and forth on my thighs.

  I nodded eagerly. “Mmmhmm—ohhh…” My agreement stretched into an appreciative cooing sigh as he tugged them down the rest of the way and slid them over my feet, before tossing them aside. Next he pulled me forward and reached behind me to undo the hooks on my corset. Thankfully there were no ties, and that slid off easily too, over my arms. It joined my panties in the rapidly growing pile of discarded clothing near the door. I kicked off my shoes and he peeled my stockings off one by one, and then I was as bare as the day I was born… even though I had a significantly different configuration of parts now.

  My breasts bounced freely on my chest, perky and full, as I ground my hips against the counter and slid my hands around his neck, and we grinned at each other like idiots as we swayed naked in the bathroom there together. I felt so good, pushed up against him, skin on skin like that, and I wanted him even worse than before. I smiled and giggled at him coyly, the teasing coming naturally to my newly female body.

  “Yeah,” he said, pushing his forehead against mine. “I can see that you want it, baby. But what are you going to do to earn it?”

  Chapter 1

  “Remind me why I agreed to do this again?” I asked, squirming uncomfortably in my black and pink polka-dot corset, garter stockings, and way too-short mini-skirt. “I feel like everyone is staring at me.”

  Chelsea giggled at me, ignoring my obvious discomfort at the stares I was drawing from passing dudes. “Oh, Max. They’re just staring at you because you look like a smoking hot chick. I do good work. You can’t even tell that’s a wig.”

  I frowned at my passing reflection in a nearby store window that we strolled past, and I had to admit that she was right. She did do good work, and she’d tried as hard as possible to make me look hot in my sexy, girly witch Halloween costume. Chelsea had pulled out all the stops for me: a realistic, long black wig from the costume shop, false eyelashes, elaborate eye makeup, and shining lip gloss. I had been shaved and plucked and primped—I couldn’t believe chicks did this stuff all the time—and finally stuffed into my sultry little mail-order witch costume, my dick tucked back between my legs and firmly strapped away beneath my lacy little skirt.

  “I just think I’m going to get my ass kicked. Can’t they tell I’m a dude? I don’t fill these clothes out right at all.” I kicked at an empty McDonald’s cup on the sidewalk, knocking it into the gutter, and then stumbled in the black high heels we’d picked out for me at Goodwill.

  Chelsea grabbed my shoulders in time to stop me from tumbling after the cup I had kicked and helped me regain my balance.

  “Get it together, Max. No one’s going to beat you up. We’re almost to the party, anyway, and it’s a gender-swap costume party, remember? All the guys will be dressed as girls. It’s fun!”

  I puffed my cheeks out in annoyance and resumed my careful steps. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe. The only thing worse than getting your ass kicked for cross-dressing would be breaking your ankle yourself because you’re not paying attention.

  I really hoped that Chelsea was right. This whole gender-swap party thing had been her friend Erin’s idea, and everyone in our circle had immediately latched on, thinking it was hilarious. Kyle had volunteered his house—because Kyle always volunteered his awesome party house for sexy parties like this—and we’d all spent weeks picking out our costumes and getting ready. It wasn’t exactly fair, though, because a “gender-swapped” costume for the girls just meant they got to cover up. Chelsea strode confidently alongside me in a set of military fatigues with laced-up black boots, her blonde curls pinned up around her head and tucked out of sight beneath a green beret.

  Despite my nervousness, I did find the idea a little exciting. Crossing gender boundaries, getting to be the one people were checking out, getting made up like a girl—it was all pretty fun, and if I was being honest with myself, I was kind of into it. It had been exciting when Chelsea had offered to give me a hand, and even though I still felt like my body was way too awkward and male to fill these clothes out right, this was the smoothest and prettiest I’d ever been. My cock strained against my too-tight black panties that ensured the security of my tuck-job, and I blushed furiously, thankful for the darkness that concealed my face. None of that now. You don’t wanna bust out of there.

&n
bsp; As we rounded the corner onto Kyle’s street and headed toward his house, I could already hear how wild the party was. We paused at his driveway, admiring the decorations.

  “He really goes all out, huh?” I said. Kyle had wrapped almost his entire two-story house up in spider-webs, had spooky rotating lights, throwing shadows all over the place, and animatronic corpses bobbing up and down in the bushes. Halloween music and chilling laughter alternated from inside, mixed with shouts and laughter on both floors.

  Chelsea nodded. “No kidding. Look at all that stuff. I heard he even hired a real fortune teller for the party.”

  I rolled my eyes at her and made air quotes. “What’s a ‘real’ fortune teller, Chelsea? You know that’s all nonsense. They just do cold reads and tell gullible people what they want to hear.”

  “Shut up! You know I believe in that stuff, even if you think it’s all a bunch of woo woo nonsense. I’m gonna make you get your fortune read—come on.”

  She grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the party, and since I was the half-naked one in heels there wasn’t much I could do much to resist if I didn’t want to trip over myself. I scurried after her, letting her tug me along. Heel-toe, heel-toe. Those combat boots really had some traction to them!

  Inside the party, everyone was having a good time, and the decorations were just as intense as they had been outside: spiders and spiderwebs, black and orange streamers, and even a few fog machines. A DJ dressed as a skeleton stood in the huge open living room area spinning electronic remixes of classic Halloween songs and a bunch of our friends ground and gyrated to the music. It looked like Kyle had moved all of his furniture to make a serious dance floor. My stomach dropped as I looked around the party, though. Less than a quarter of the guys were dressed as women, and the ones that were looked sorta awkward and uncomfortable.

  “What the fuck, Chelsea?” I hissed. “Didn’t everyone get the memo?”

  She glanced around, studying the party-goers, and then shrugged at me with an apologetic smile. “I mean, we can’t force them to dress up, right? There are always lame people who don’t follow the rules.” Then she perked up and waved. “Oh Kyle! There’s Kyle. Let’s go say hi.”

  Before I could protest she was dragging me off to the kitchen, where Kyle and his buddy Mitch were manning the keg and handing out red solo cups to people. I was annoyed to see that even Kyle and Mitch had ignored the instructions. They were both dressed as construction workers. It made me want to shrink down into the bottoms of my heels and turn invisible, but Chelsea had iron grip on my wrist, so into the kitchen I went.

  When Kyle saw Chelsea, his eyes lit up. Everyone loved Chelsea.

  “Chelsea!” he exclaimed. “I’m so glad you made it. What do you think? Pretty decent, eh?”

  Chelsea nodded emphatically. “It’s fantastic. You did a great job with the decorations. Too bad most of the guys ignored the theme.” She raised an eyebrow at him, her tone accusatory.

  “Oh, come on Chelsea.” A wide grin broke out over Kyle’s face. “You’re a Women’s Studies major. Are you really going to stand there and tell me that women can’t be construction workers?” He elbowed Mitch and the two of them guffawed, pleased to death with themselves. “We’re female construction workers. You can tell because we’re not wearing shirts beneath our overalls.”

  Mitch lifted the overall straps covering his hair nipples and waggled his eyebrows at Chelsea, who just rolled her eyes, while Kyle began to fill a cup of beer for her. The two guys high-fived. I glanced around nervously, hoping to escape before I became the center of attention, but it was too late.

  “Who’s your cute friend?” Mitch asked, gesturing at me with his beer and taking a long sip. He winked at me over the rim, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  “That would be Max,” Chelsea said with an evil grin. “Not bad, huh?”

  Mitch spit his beer out in a miniature shower onto the kitchen floor and wiped the back of his mouth with a hairy palm. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His eyes widened as he studied me. I shifted uncomfortably, having no idea what was appropriate to say in this situation.

  “Chelsea helped me,” I finally muttered, staring at the floor.

  “Damn, Chelsea. You uh… you did good work there.”

  “I know,” she said, beaming back at Mitch.

  “Well, uh, sorry dude,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder—although he didn’t meet my eyes. “You look great. Welcome to the party. Have a beer. I have to, uh, go use the bathroom.”

  Kyle watched Mitch hastily break away and head upstairs with an amused smile on his face, and then turned back to us. “Well kudos to both of you for achieving both the spirit and the letter of the party. You’re a braver man than I am, Max.” He held a solo cup of beer out to me, the twin of the one he’d just given Chelsea. “I think you startled poor Mitch. You really do look like a natural in that getup. I’d almost think you were a girl in the right lighting. Go, mingle, have fun and enjoy the party!”

  He shooed us away, and I took Chelsea’s arm and led her out into the back yard, where things were a little quieter, although people still danced around the outside of Kyle’s pool, which was also lit up in Halloween colors.

  “I told you that you look awesome,” Chelsea whispered to me, setting down her drink on a table.

  I blushed harder, set my drink next to hers, and tugged at my underwear, adjusting them. Why had I gotten a little hard at that? “Yeah, whatever. I mean, thank you. Nice job, Chels. I just wish more people had dressed up. Fooling Mitch isn’t hard—the guy has IQ of about 75.”

  “Yeah, and he has a massive cock, too. God I love linebackers. I’d bang him for sure.”

  I shot her a surprised look, and now it was Chelsea’s turn to blush. “What? Girls talk. You hear things.”

  “Anyway, word will get around fast.” People were already whispering to each other and pointing at me. Mitch and Kyle must have been telling people. In a way, it was almost worse that I looked so good, because it drew attention to me and made people curious. I didn’t look quite like a natural girl, but I sure didn’t look like a hairy dude in a dress, like a few of these guys did. I felt even more eyes settle on me and shifted awkwardly. “Can we just… can we just go somewhere where I won’t be the center of attention?”

  “Sure,” Chelsea replied. “Look, there’s the fortune teller’s tent—let’s go check it out.” She pointed at a ramshackle little purple tent in the corner of the yard that I hadn’t noticed before. A painted wooden side stood beside it that read, “Madame Orlando, Fortune Teller”.

  I rolled my eyes, but I was willing to accept anything that got me away from the increasingly uncomfortable attention. People would be able to recognize me as Max by my facial features, and I wished I had picked a costume with a mask or something. It wouldn’t have been so bad playing a girl if people didn’t know it was me.

  “Fine, let’s go,” I agreed. I took Chelsea’s arm again and let her lead the way, our drinks forgotten.

  Chapter 2

  Inside the tent it was cool, quiet, and dark, and bigger than it looked from the outside—some trick of the eye, I guessed. There was a pair of chairs in front of a white, satin-draped table, and shadows from a pair of candles flickered across the purplish interior of tent walls. I had expected Madame Orlando to be a wizened little old gypsy lady, but the woman who sat across from us was stunningly gorgeous, with smooth almond skin, high cheekbones, and calculating eyes the color of deep, ancient amber. She was dressed in a velvet gown with a black satin ribbon choker at her neck, and she played idly with a deck of tarot cards in her hands. As Chelsea let the tent flap fall closed behind us, a knowing smile spread across the woman’s face.

  “Ah, two curious young girls have come to visit Madame Orlando,” she said, gesturing at the chairs, “Although one of these is perhaps less than the woman she seems to be… and also more.”

  I rolled my eyes and nudged Chelsea as we settled down in front of the tabl
e. “I told you it was obvious to everyone but Mitch,” I whispered grumpily.

  Madame Orlando fixed me with an unsettling gaze that made me feel like I was being stripped naked, and I shifted in my seat. “All things are obvious to Madame Orlando, even when they’re not yet known to you yourself.” There was a note of warning in her voice, and I dropped my eyes.

  “Mysterious mumbo jumbo,” I muttered to myself. “It doesn’t really mean anything.”

  “Ignore him,” Chelsea said to the Madame. “He doesn’t believe in magic or fortune telling, but I do. We want you to read our fortunes.”

  “Ahh,” Madame Orlando replied. “A doubter. I am amazed that one can doubt in the awesome power of black magic, on the most magical night of the year, and dressed, of all things, as a witch.” She tsked, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Nevertheless, the magic will work for him whether or not he believes in it. I will show you both.”

  I peeked at the table, ignoring her jabs, and watched as she dealt several cards face-up onto the table. I had to admit I was a little curious, even if I didn’t believe in this nonsense. How was she going to convince Chelsea that this was real? I wondered how good of a cold reader she was.

  Madame Orlando peered at the cards and then pointed at Chelsea. “You first, my dear. I see a man at the party, strong and confident. Everyone likes him, everyone wants to be his friend. You like him.” She flipped over another card. “Tonight will be your chance to tell him how you feel, and if you can summon your bravery and the stars align, he will respond to your affections in kind.”

  Chelsea was staring at her in rapture, eating up every word. “Thank you,” she murmured. “That’s amazing.”

  I shook my head at her. “Really, Chelsea? She just told you there’s a boy at the party who likes you, and if you tell him you like him too, you’ll hook up. But I could have told you that. Everyone likes you. It’s not magic.”