A Ticklish Reality
I lower my gaze and check out the pussy. That part, too, had been rendered with remarkable realism.
Realistic... which is to say, it looked like what I'd seen in porn. Calling it realistic when I've never actually seen one in person — a strange, unplaceable self-loathing wells up, and I let out a long sigh.
I flip the skin over and sweep the hair forward, and a silver zipper glints into view. There was a zipper sitting just above the buttocks, and from there a straight seam ran all the way up to just below the nape. Presumably I was meant to slip my body in through that opening and zip it shut.
I was bewildered. I hadn't even tried it on yet, but even a brief inspection made it obvious this was nowhere near the quality of a mere $500 product. The texture and the look of it were so convincing that a nagging doubt crept in — was this really some silicone artifact, or the actual skin of a real person, made into leather?
"No way. It can't be."
It wouldn't be. Turning a person into skin — impossible, and something that should never be. This was simply a human replica crafted with some cutting-edge technology, nothing more and nothing less. Even as I talked myself into it, I remembered the me of just a few weeks ago, the one who'd said, Skin that turns you into someone else when you wear it? Yeah, right.
A hollow little laugh slips out. Pfft. I had no idea back then. That the package would actually arrive.
I pry the seam of the skin apart, and inside sits a single black card. I reach in and fish it out; written across it, in an old-fashioned cursive hand, are the following words:
Thank you very much for purchasing this product.
We can confidently assure you that this product, crafted to perfectly reflect your order, will deliver a satisfaction unlike anything you could experience anywhere else.
※ No need to worry! This product is an artificial creation made purely with our company's own special technology, so there are no ethical concerns whatsoever — and it can be freely taken off and put back on.
To wear it: with all clothing removed, insert your body through the opening, fit each part of your body — arms, legs, face, and so on — snugly to the skin, then pull the zipper all the way up.
Once you have finished wearing it, should there be no particular issues, please visit the link below – XXXXXX.XXXXX.XXXXXXXXXXX.XXXXX –
— So that anyone may freely become someone else —
G.G
An artificial product, and free to take off and put back on... it had addressed every single one of my worries. What a relief. Is that link a Discord address?
Discord, huh — some kind of one-on-one consultation with the seller? The phrase particular issues nagged at me a little, but having come this far, there was no reason to choose the option of giving up. And with the card explicitly stating it was artificial, the ethical question that had been bothering me was fully settled too. I quickly stripped off every last piece of clothing and picked up the skin.
All right... here goes. Holding both arms of the skin in my hands, I slip my left foot into the opening. It was soft. Warm, even. Getting my leg into the supple skin took force, applied bit by bit — and before I knew it, my leg was buried deep inside, my foot sliding into place over the foot portion—
"Hngh?"
An ugly moan leaks out of my mouth. A ticklish pleasure, like being brushed with the soft bristles of a paintbrush, rises faintly from the tips of my toes and slowly climbs its way up my leg. At the same time I feel the skin cling snugly to me, and then, all at once, it begins squeezing my foot and leg, hard. How many seconds pass? Suddenly, the constriction and the tingling both vanish in the blink of an eye.
"What just happened?"
I shake my head, calm my startled heart, and hurriedly look down at my leg. My left leg had... gotten shorter. My foot doesn't reach the floor. There's a gap of several centimeters between my sole and the ground.
Looking closer, length wasn't the only thing that had changed. My thigh, which had once carried at least some muscle, now held nothing but soft, yielding flesh; not a single hair remained on my calf. Not only that — my toes had shortened too, and my toenails were neatly trimmed into smooth, rounded shapes. This was not my leg. Anyone could see it was a woman's.
Cautiously, I reach out and touch it. I can feel my hand tracing over the leg, distinctly, from both sides — the hand and the thigh alike. The leg has sensation, and it moves at my will. This skin really, truly could turn me into a completely different person the moment I put it on. This is real. Not a dream — reality.
Without giving myself time to think, I push my right leg in as well. Once the same tickling and tightening I'd felt on the left has run its course, my right leg, too, becomes a smooth woman's leg, just like its twin. I pull the waist of the skin upward, adjusting it until my lower abdomen is covered. The moment I let go, the skin clings to my lower body and begins to squeeze my cock.
"Hnngh... hoo... ha...!"
Ragged breath spills from my mouth. The pressure is like a giant hand kneading my genitals, and tears spin in my eyes. Just as I'm desperately biting my lip to keep from crying out, the sensation vanishes without a trace, same as with my legs. Is it done?
I quickly reach back and squeeze my ass, and a softness I've never felt before greets my palm. When I pat it, a crisp smack rings clearly through the room.
If my ass has changed like this, then... could it be? I lower my head. The skin's upper half hangs limply down in front of me, making it hard to see below my abdomen. Carefully, I bring my hand to where my cock should be. Nothing. With a hand trembling more and more, I press deep between my thighs. And then it hits me, all at once.
!!!!!!
My moving fingers brush against something, and an indescribable jolt churns through my skull. The sensation itself isn't all that intense, but it's something entirely new, something I have never once experienced. My legs clench on their own, and the edges of my vision dim. Drool runs down from the corner of my mouth, and I can't even think to wipe it away. There's no doubt about it. What I just touched was a clit. I have just tasted a pleasure no man could ever know.
I want to touch it more. I want to keep chasing this pleasure I've never felt before. If a mere brush felt like this, what would happen if I really worked it? The instant I move to act on the impulse, I'm suddenly struck by the thought of how I must look right now from a third party's perspective.
A man's upper body on a woman's lower half — and mid-attempt at getting myself off, no less.
The moment I reflect objectively on my current appearance, my lust evaporates. Yeah — masturbating can wait until the skin's fully on. I swiftly begin feeding my upper body into the skin as well. Starting with my fingers, past my elbows, up to my shoulders. Sure enough, they turn into soft, slender women's arms.
My chest is fascinating. The first thing I notice wearing breasts isn't softness... it's their weight, heavier than I'd expected. How do women manage to go about their daily lives carrying these? Walking fast or running must be brutal.
I poke the side of my breast with a fingertip. A firm, weighty resilience meets my touch, but unlike what I'd hoped, it doesn't wobble around like pudding.
I'm disappointed for a moment, but when I spread my fingers and knead, an unfamiliar pleasure — like the one from my clit — begins blooming in my head all over again. I want to keep kneading, but for the same reason as before, I resolve to save the fun for after the skin is fully on.
All that remains is the head. With the hanging hair pushed aside to either side, I slide my head into the skin. I align my eyes, nose, and mouth with the openings, then wait quietly.
Huh?
But this time, that strange sensation I'd felt across my whole body never comes. The skin, too, just sits there, refusing to cling to my face.
Right — I haven't zipped it up yet. I bend my arms back, grab the zipper, and pull it up in one long stroke. With a long ziiip the zipper begins to climb, until at last it reaches just below my neck and closes completely. The instant it does, that familiar sensation begins pressing down on my entire head. I hastily bring both hands up to cup my face and squeeze my eyes shut.
...
When the sensation fades, I open my eyes and cautiously look around. There's no discomfort anywhere in my body, but my line of sight has dropped by a good ten centimeters or so.
Cautiously, I touch my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my cheeks. Soft. Completely different from my own skin, which was slightly rough with the traces of old acne.
"Ah... ah."
Gripping my trembling heart, I try out my voice. A lovely tone no one could mistake for a man's shimmers in my ears.
I raise a hand and run it through my hair. Silky black strands flow past my shoulders all the way down to my waist.
I tilt my head down gently. Before my eyes: breasts no normal man could ever have, so large that even both hands couldn't cover them.
Bending at the waist, I pick up the phone lying on the table and take a selfie. What the photo captures is a woman in her early twenties with catlike eyes, a sharp expression that somehow also looks a little dopey.
Red eyes...
Exactly the appearance I'd written in the email. Truly, I had put on the skin and become a woman.