Stuck as a Fertility Goddess

By Gregor Daniels

Troy is visiting his best friend, Kent, whose mother happens to be hosting a fundraiser for a historical society at her house, with many antiquities on display. One in particular grabs Troy's attention: an old vase depicting an African fertility goddess. When an unusual Midwestern earthquake happens, Troy has to save the vase from falling—which causes the water inside the vase to spill on him.

However, his heroics have come with a price. Now Troy finds himself transforming into a curvy black woman multiple times per day, seemingly for no reason—until he makes a connection between his changes and Kent having intimate moments with his girlfriend. Somehow, Troy is changing gender when his best friend is in the mood, and there seems to be only one way to stop it.

Troy has to take the plunge and seduce his best friend, and then he'll turn back to normal—after nine swelling months.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregor Daniels
• Release date: Apr 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224079438

Gregor Daniels

Gregor Daniels is an erotica author that specializes in gender swap and erotic transformation fetishes. New stories are typically released weekly and feature a variety of themes. Have you ever had fantasies to be a girl? Then look no further ...Contact the author directly on Twitter to discuss stories, share your favorite ideas and fantasies, scenes, and characters, or to just talk about nothing in particular.

Book preview

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Epilogue

Copyright © 2024 Gregor Daniels

All rights reserved.

Only ADULTS beyond this point.

All characters are consenting adults at least eighteen years old.

1

Outside Kent’s house, I had to find a parking spot amongst twenty other vehicles lining the curbs on both sides of the street. My little hatchback looked like a runt next to the monstrous Cadillac SUVs and other brands. At first, I was a little confused about what sort of party my best friend’s parents were hosting, but it all cleared up when I saw the sign pitched on their front lawn: MIDWEST HERITAGE COLLECTIVE FUNDRAISER, scheduled from noon to two o’clock.

That’d undoubtedly be hosted by Kent’s mother, Judy. She headed the Midwest Heritage Collective historical society and was somewhat of a well-known world traveler, although I didn’t know her entire story. The Collective was all about finding and preserving antiques and relics from different civilizations. Kind of like Indiana Jones, but without the whip and Nazis. I’d only come to grab Kent and his girlfriend, Ann, before heading out to the movie theater, so the fundraiser was an unexpected obstacle.

There was a young doorman who allowed me inside, where I saw that the whole living room had been transformed into a kind of showroom floor with shelves full of antiquities. All the men were wearing suits, the women dresses. I felt so silly and out of place trying to squeeze past them.

Good lord, there were even servers carrying trays with champagne.

I’d always known Judy was loaded from her archaeological ventures, but this was like entering a room full of high society.

Kent’s room was upstairs. There was a trio of men standing in front of them and chatting. Being socially awkward, I didn’t want to ask them to move. Instead, I bode my time by investigating a shelf full of ancient-looking valuables next to me. There were little cards explaining which was from where: MESOPOTAMIA, MONGOLIA, GREECE, and others I read. Most were sculptures or decorative items, although there was a stone-cut weapon that kind of resembled a modern dagger. I kept my dirty hands well away, fearing I’d go to prison for life if I even left a trace of my fingerprints on anything.

In the middle of the relics, my eyes focused on a brown, clay vase that was tall and narrow. It was the only thing on the shelf without any kind of label denoting its origin. It was covered in carved images, kind of like comic panels—only many were worn smooth and completely illegible. The final one, though, seemed to depict a woman who was extremely pregnant.

Anything you like on there? said a woman’s voice.

I flinched a little and saw Judy. Unlike the other women attending the fundraiser, she wasn’t wearing a dress—but her pantsuit was equally eye-catching and worthy of a fashionable archaeologist in one of those Indy movies. I’d always thought her pageboy haircut was hot too. Especially for a redhead.

Uh, I said. Just, um, scoping it out.

My son’s up in his room, she said. If he’s who you’re looking for.

I glanced at the stairs again. The men were still blocking the way. Judy noticed this and nodded sympathetically. She’d always understood my social awkwardness more than my own parents had. She even offered