Chucky stared into the mirror for a long time. It wasn’t exactly new, this gender shit, but this was. He and Tiff had just pulled into the motel room, still high off of the victory. Chucky still had blood and brains splattered up to his knee, and oh yeah, he had fuckin working knees now. When he had hopped into that little brat, Alice, it hadn’t been like this. She was young. Still a pipsqueak. This body, Nica’s body, his body now, it was. Different.
He stood there, looking over his new reflection. There was always a moment or two, with the jump, where it was disorienting. His soul fit strangely in the new vessel. He remembered the terrible shock of being a doll at first, the discomfort of it. He had hated it so much, but it became familiar. At this point he’d been alive as a doll longer than he ever had been in his human body. His head tilted at that and he watched the long drape of Nica’s hair fall away from his neck, felt the brush against his shoulders.
Alice had been a change. Things actually going right for fucking once. But she had been so small. Too small to house a grown man’s spirit, especially one with Chucky’s proclivities. In retrospect, it was probably for the best he had never won with Andy. He had stayed a shrimp. Then again, Chucky was used to being three feet tall. He couldn’t say jack shit. He looked at the long lines of his new body. This was the tallest he had been in years. Humming, he slid off the jacket, letting it pool on the ground behind him, kicking it back with a small flick of his heel. The heels, actually, were not new. Tiffany had gotten a kick out of it, once upon a time, dressing him up. The slender turn of the ankle was. He posed a bit, foot popping up behind him, wobbling slightly before putting it back down. Slowly, he raised it up onto the edge of the sink, watching the new pose. Gore smeared on the white tile. It was striking. He smiled, then looked back up to watch the smile spread.
It was a bit fuckin’ ironic, actually, how much Nica looked like his old meat bag. If he hadn’t known for a fact he never plowed her mom, he’d think the bitch was his bastard. He tilted his face a little, side to side, studying how the light reflected off the angles and curves. It was a pretty face. Impish, maybe, in his glee. He scowled, then pouted, then bared his teeth. He tried a sultry look, then smiled again. Yeah, ok, he was kinda hot. He could get into this. He leaned forward on the heel, liking this new pose. He undid the straps and slipped it off, then changed feet and did it again. It felt a little strange, not balancing himself. He tossed them aside as well, then unbuttoned and slid off his pants. The panties underneath were boring, plain grey cotton. Probably standard uniform issue. He idly touched the top of the waistband, still keeping eye contact with himself in the mirror. That might be fun, later. Going shopping with Tiff, letting her dress him up again. Picking out pretty things. His hand slid up, pulling up the shirt as they went, glancing over his stomach, teasing over his breasts, stopping at his shoulders.
He lifted the shirt off, then tossed it behind him as well, taking the scarf with it. He was standing in just his underwear now, still looking. He ran his hands up his throat, stopping momentarily to circle it. He squeezed gently, watching as the cold hands brought up goosebumps. He felt himself shiver, watched as his nipples got hard enough to poke through the bra. Yeah, this was new. Alice was young, hadn’t even really hit puberty yet. Chucky bit out a harsh laugh. Thank fucking Damballah he didn’t have to go through the girl’s first period. It had been awkward, being a kid. He hadn’t felt comfortable, looking at his wife. He didn’t have many lines but fucking in a little girl’s body was one of them. Shit, it really was a good thing he never got Andy’s ass. He’d have to think about that later. Nice wasn’t some little girl who hadn’t even grown into her tits yet. He ran his hands into his hair, lifted it up a bit, tugged. Shifted his hips from side to side, watching himself shimmy in the mirror. Nica was a goddamn adult, and shit fucking Christ if it didn’t feel good to be taller than the fucking counter again.
He let the hair fall through his fingers, then ran them over his shoulders. It was nice, being able to touch his own skin without feeling like some fuckin’ freak. Like some kinda worse scumbag then that fuckin’ doctor. His lip curled in a snarl. He ran his finger over them. Soft. He licked them, catching the edge of his finger with his tongue. He slid a bra strap down, watching and feeling as it dragged over his shoulder. He rubbed the slight indent it had left in his skin. It had a snap in the front, was plain and grey and boring like the panties were. He had a smattering of freckles on his shoulders, he noticed. A few stray moles. He unclasped the bra and let it slide off.
He stood in the shitty light of the motel bathroom, blood smeared on the sink and, he noticed, still flecked here and there on his skin. He cupped his breasts in his hands, squeezing slightly. Yeah, this was new. The goosebumps were back. Experimentally, he pinched a bit at his nipples and jolted. He let out a low, intrigued hum, squeezed again. Tiff had said small ones were more sensitive once. He asked her how the fuck she had known that when she’s supposed to be focused on him, and she had laughed and cussed him out and sucked his dick. He didn’t have a dick anymore. Fuck, even as a doll he’d had a dick eventually.
He pushed down the panties, stumbling a bit trying to kick out of them. His eye half caught himself in the mirror, naked now and jiggling strangely as he fought with the last piece of his clothing. He stood up, then jumped a bit, watching his body shake again. Yeah, this had some perks. He grinned, a feral little grin, then ran his hands over the thick patch of hair growing between his legs. Made sense. She had spent the past few years in a fuckin’ nuthouse, no razors allowed. Or maybe she’d just always preferred it in the bush league. He let out a small hoarse laugh. Her legs were shaved, at least up to the knee. Probably that fuckin pervert again. Curling the hair around his fingers and tugging, he blew himself a kiss in the mirror. Winked. Tried the sultry gaze again.
It was his body now. He wanted to get to know it. Take it out for a spin, maybe. A body was a lot like a knife. Incredibly useful, but they were all different, and you had to know how to handle ‘em. He put his foot back up on the sink, ignoring the slight squelch, and spread his cunt open with his fingers. Tiffany couldn’t bitch about him calling it that anymore, he had one now. It was fuckin’ equality or some shit. His balance was a little off when he brought his other hand up to explore, but that was just tough shit, because he wanted to see. He ran his fingers up and down the lips of the thing, then brushed over his clit. Shit, he felt that. He rubbed over it again, more deliberately, then dug in a bit with his nails. Fuck, that stung, but it felt good. He pinched at it, twisted, tugged. He started to feel hot, saw himself start to glisten as he started to throb between his legs. He let his fingers start to poke around at his slit, rubbing. Wasn’t quite as intense, but it still felt good. Great, considering it was the first time he’d jerked off as a human in what was now literally decades. He slid a finger inside, rubbing, then nearly lost his balance.
Overcorrecting, he knocked the shitty little soap dish off, causing a clatter. Fuck. He swung his leg down, but not before Tiffany opened the door. He caught her eyes in the mirror and gave her a shameless grin. She smirked, dragging her eyes up and down, clearly holding back a laugh at nearly catching him with his fingers in his snatch.
“Taking it for a test drive, sweetface?”
She stepped in, leaving the door open behind her. A draft curled through the room. She stepped behind him, keeping her eyes locked with his in the mirror. She was bigger than he was. It hadn’t meant much, when he was a doll, or a kid, but now? Her arms wrapped around his waist and she let her face lean against his. She wasn’t much taller, part of it probably her own heels, but she was broader. She felt stronger. Her hands splayed, one over his waist and the other over his ribs, stopping just under his tits, thumbs idly rubbing over the new skin.
“I like you like this,” she purred, and his throat went tight. He was usually the confident one. He felt a little out of sorts, new body and all. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and he swallowed.
“Yeah, uh. Me. Me, too.”
Tiffany grinned and pressed a small kiss to his throat, eyes still locked on his in the mirror. He felt himself turning red, saw it. Shit, it felt good, skin on skin. Her clothes dragged over his skin, and she rubbed her hands up and down his new form, hands going over his thighs, sliding up his ass, running over his collarbone. She dug her nails in, watching the red welted lines appear. She pinched then laughed when he jumped.
“Alright, alright, ease up, Tiff, this is all new to me.”
“I like your tits, Chucky. They say the small ones are-”
“More sensitive, yeah,” he mumbled, trying not to jerk in her arms when she cupped them. “You told me before.”
She pressed a kiss to his cheek, thumbs rubbing. Shit, if it felt good feeling himself up this felt ten times fucking better. She nipped at his ear, then grabbed his hands in hers, forcing them down over himself, grabbing his thigh and lifting his leg back up as their other hand covered his cunt. The position put him off balance, leaning back against her. She was warm, a fucking furnace in the cold of the bathroom in winter. Their hands rubbed and she grinned at him. He didn’t look very fucking confident at all, he realized. He looked like a slut about to get railed. Like some pretty girl at a bus stop bathroom. Shit, he looked fucking hot. Tiffany let go of the hand at his thigh and wrapped it around his throat.
“How ‘bout it, lover?” She squeezed none too gently and he moaned, a high, feminine sound that it took him a second to recognize at his own. “If you’re gonna take Nica for a test drive, don’t you want an experienced driver?” He grinned.
“That’s your fuckin’ line, Tiff?”
She dug her nails in, sharp. A small, thin line of blood trickled down his neck and she licked it off.
“Shit,” he groaned, “Fuck, yeah, yeah ok. Show me what I’ve been missin’ out on.”
She stepped away, dragging him with her into the room.
“Babydoll, I’m going to show you exactly why I made you go down on me all those times.”
He fell back on the bed, smiling, legs akimbo and sliding himself back.
She slid off her own jacket, stripping down. Her bra was much nicer than his had been.
“Hello ladies,” he crooned, “I missed ya.”
She snorted, throwing her shirt over his face. By the time he had taken it off she was mostly naked. That’s what he liked about Tiff. Sexy, but efficient. She crawled up the bed over him, letting herself crush him slightly underneath her. He liked it. Their breasts rubbed and smushed together and he liked that too. She leaned down to kiss him, and that was familiar. That was old hat, something he could do all day. He slipped his tongue in her mouth. It was a little tricky, kissing someone while grinning like a loon, but they’d manage. He bit her lip, sucking on it and ignoring the taste of her lipstick. He groaned.
“You’re gonna have to teach me how to do make up again,” he muttered against her mouth, and she giggled. When she pulled away, the red was smudged across her cheeks. It made her mouth look like a wound. He snickered. Looks like he gave her red wings.
“What’s so funny?”
“A real woman loves her man every day of the month.”
She rolled her eyes, making him cackle even harder, before grabbing his face and pushing him back down onto the bed, head sinking into the mattress. She lifted up off him and for a moment he was unbearably cold. She sank down on her knees on the side of the bed, and that too was familiar. Less so when she grabbed his legs and yanked him across the mattress until his thighs rested on her shoulders.
“How far’d ya get,” she asked conversationally, as if she wasn’t nudging her nose along his slit. As if he wasn’t as turned on as he’d ever been in his life.
“Ah, uh, you know,” he grit out as she dug her fingers into his thighs, “Explored a little. Didn’t get very far before you came in.”
“Good,” she purred, spreading him open, “I like the idea of being your first. It’s like a fresh start.” He patted his hands down towards her face, wanting to touch her, to show her without words that he understood. Saying it out loud felt too vulnerable somehow, and he was already feeling more vulnerable than he had in a long time. He couldn’t quite reach her hair without lifting off the bed, so he settled for grabbing the hand still on his thigh and tangling their fingers together. She squeezed hard in acknowledgement. That’s why he loved her, even after all these years. She fuckin’ got him.
She stroked his pussy, running her fingers over the creases much like he had. It didn’t feel like when he was doing it. Obviously it wouldn’t, it was the difference between jerkin’ it and getting a handy, but in the new body it felt like that was some sort of epiphany. Everything she was doing did, rubbing his clit in circles that made him want to squirm, dipping her fingers lower and sliding them through the slick that was gathering then rubbing back up, spreading it around. It felt fucking good, shivers racking up and down his spine.
“Thought, uh,” he mumbled, riding out the dull waves of pleasure that were almost lazily coasting through him, “Though you said you were gonna eat me out.”
“Men,” she said with a wink, “Always in a hurry. Let me play with my new toy a bit.” Her fingers moved faster, honing in on his clit more, pressing harder, making him feel like she was skating on bone and his body jerked, trying to ride her hand. He bit off small gasps, trying hard not to be too loud, to betray how much it was working, but he had the feeling he wasn’t doing a very good job. She nipped a bit at his thigh, hand moving faster, and the added pain was enough to take him over the edge.
“Shit,” he gasped, “Fuck, Tiffany, baby, fuck-” It wasn’t like coming as a man, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking enjoying himself. His body spasmed a bit, Tiffany’s hand holding his stomach down as she kept rubbing. “Shit, Tiff, I-”
She buried her face in his cunt and he fucking wailed. Her hands went from holding him down to gripping his ass, pulling him in closer. His thighs clenched, not sure if he wanted to pull her in closer or push her away, still overstimulated and clit throbbing so hard it almost fucking hurt as she nipped and sucked and licked and fucking-
“Oh shit,” he mumbled, “Oh shit, Tiff, fucking God, Tiff it’s too much, it’s-” She stuck her tongue in his cunt and he felt her lick him from the inside, strange and wet and fucking good. “Fuck!”
He rode her face, clit rubbing against her nose, hands clawing and tearing at the sheets. He came again, and then he fucking came again, and he had to practically tear her face away from him to drag her up, kiss her again, taste the strange sharp taste of pussy in his wife’s mouth and know it came from him. His hands, smaller than they used to be, but still familiar with Tiffany’s body, tried to find the best ways to make her moan. He had to get some of his own back. She was laughing, he realized, and he laughed too. Laughed and pushed her over and threw her legs over his shoulders and crooked his fingers inside her and she was still laughing when she came.
“How’d you like your first time,” she cooed, breath catching in between the giggles and the sighs, “Was it everything you hoped for?”
“Everything and more, sweetheart,” He slid himself down her body, enjoying the drag of the new skin. There was a time, he remembered, when he’d actually fucking worried about her getting bigger. She was still fucking sexy as hell, still did it for him, probably would if she was a one legged toothless hobo. That must be love or some shit. “Mine are nice,” he sighed happily, nuzzling his face into her tits, “but yours are still my favorite.” She hummed happily, running her fingers through his tangled snarl of hair. “Tiff,” he whined, “You’re getting cunt juice in my fuckin hair.” She laced it through her fingers and yanked.
“Why don’t you work on getting my cunt juice in your fuckin’ hair.”
He cackled. “God I love you.”
“Mmm, love you too, sweetface.”
They had lots of planning to do, and there were things that needed to be taken care of. Dolls to be rounded up. Andy to be dealt with. But for now it was nice to just be a man who wanted to get railed by his wife.
“Did you miss me,” he crooned, “I missed you.”
“Course I did, Chucky, I always miss you when you’re gone.”
“That’s sweet, Tiff, but I was talkin’ to your pussy.”
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.
“Yes, Charles, it missed you. It was terribly lonely without you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
While being on the receiving end was new, giving his girl head was something he was old hat at. She was wetter than a fuckin’ slip n slide.
“Oh,” she squealed, “That’s nice. That’s. Hmmmmm, been a while.”
He hummed, grinned when he felt her grind against his face. He wasn’t a fuckin’ moron. He didn’t think she’d been totally celibate. Hell, even when he was a doll, sometimes she’d bring somebody back, have him watch them fuck her brains out, then kill them together. It had been his idea, actually. But still, it had been a while. For her, sure, but even longer for him. Some people just didn’t want a rubber doll a fifth their size fucking them. Understandable hang up. It felt good making her feel good again. He just hoped her thighs didn’t fucking snap his neck. He had just gotten this body.
“Tiff,” he choked, “Can’t fuckin’ breathe, babe.”
“Get over it,” she squeezed harder and fuck, he was throbbing again. It was like he had a phantom cock dying to stick itself in her. She’d have to settle for his fingers and tongue for now. She was perfect for him. He loved her voice when it got like this, somehow getting even higher and breathier, like she was some kind of sexy cloud or some shit. Fuck it, poetry was never his thing, he was more of a physical kinda guy. Strangle some bitch. Fuck somebody’s brains out. Stab a guy. That was more his area of expertise. Still, when her voice hit a crescendo, he couldn’t help but feel appreciative.
Less so when some asshat started banging on the door.
“Fuck off,” he yelled, “I’m bangin’ my wife in here.”
“You fucking dykes need to keep that shit down! I’m getting complaints!”
He recognized the voice. It was the asshole from the front desk who’d checked them in. Come to think of it, he’d been leering pretty hard then hadn’t he. Chucky had thought it’d been all Tiff. He was used to people leering at Tiff. He leered at Tiff. Being leered at was another new thing. Tiffany was frowning.
“That’s some foul fucking language, sir!” She yelled through the door. Oh, right. Slurs. This asshole thought they were lesbians.
“I’ll kick you bitches out in the cold, I don’t give a fuck! People are trying to sleep!”
Tiffany swung her legs over the side, grabbing her jacket and wrapping herself up in it before stomping over to the door and swinging it open. The man’s hand was still raised to knock, face still caught in a snarl. He froze, looking at the irate woman before him, then eyes skating past to the smirking naked woman on the bed. Chucky waved, a lazy half salute. His eyes lingered before he remembered himself and went back to glaring at Tiffany.
“Keep it down,” he growled.
Tiffany smiled. It was a dangerous smile, and it didn’t reach her eyes, but that was the thing about Tiff. Most people weren’t looking at her eyes.
“Why don’t you come in and join us,” she simpered, lips pouting slightly, “We could use the added…..muscle.”
“Yeah, ok,” he muttered, stepping in. She closed the door behind him and locked eyes with Chucky, grinning.
“I’m Tiffany,” she purred, “And that’s Chucky. Why don’t you say hello?”
He stumbled further in, uneven and at odds with himself. Tiffany slipped behind him into the bathroom.
“What kinda fuckin name is Chucky for a girl?”
Chucky grinned. “You’re a rude fuckin’ asshole, ya know that? What’s YOUR name, pal?”
He swallowed, wet his lips, opened his mouth. But whatever his name was, they weren’t gonna find out. Tiffany bashed him over the head with the toilet seat cover and he crumpled to the floor, body twitching as blood gushed out onto the cheap shitty rug. Chucky burst into raucous peals of laughter, Tiffany joining in.“Guess we’ll never know!”
They watched as his body slowly stiffened, twitching coming to a stop and blood slowing from a rush to a crawl to an ooze. Something grey slid from between his ears. Chucky sighed, happily.
“Fuck. You got a cig, Tiff?”
She nodded, stepped over the corpse to join him on the bed. She lit his, this used the cherry to light one of her own.
“Shit, this is how life should be. You think anybody called the cops?”
“In this hell hole? Nah. We’ve got a few hours before the next shift starts." Chucky nodded, then gestured at the body with his cigarette.
“This gonna be our new thing, now? Braining people? That’s two in one day.”
Tiffany shrugged, snuggling into his side.
“Good to try new things, right? Keep it fresh.”
Chucky grinned, stretching himself out before kissing her cheek and getting up.
“Yeah. Anyways, I’m gonna go take a shower. I’d say feel free to join me, but the thing’s the size of a fucking phone booth.”
“Don’t use up all the hot water.”
“I will,” he shot back gleefully. Tiffany chuckled and flipped him off. She took a few long drags before stamping it out and letting herself fall back on the bed, stretching out comfortably. She heard a sudden shriek from the bathroom.
“Tiff!” Chucky shouted through the door, “Holy shit, Tiff, you left fucking lipstick stains on my goddamn cunt!”
She grinned at the ceiling before bursting into laughter.