The Stone

by Baubleheadz

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© Copyright 2006 - Baubleheadz - Used by permission

Storycodes: Other/m; transform; magic; lovedoll; cons; X

Part 1

I had found the stone lying on a beach in Fiji. It was a regular grey stone, except that it had been etched with an image of something humanoid and around that where some illegible symbols etched in the surface. Time had worn the stone to the point that even someone that could read whatever language it was would have had a hard time deciphering the lost symbols.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that the stone did some thing very special. As I walked into my vacation bungalow, and set the stone down on an open magazine as a paper weight, I looked down at where I had laid it, and remembered vaguely the story I had been casually reading two hours earlier. Before I let go of the stone though, something instinctual but silent inside of my mind, coaxed me to slide the stone onto the photo of a woman on the opposite page, holding a bottle of shampoo and standing in a luxurious all glass shower.

Suddenly I felt a huge, quick lurch as everything, even my being itself was wrenched to the side. My eyes where blinded by a great light, and I lost my balance. I fell on the floor; which I realized was wet, and harder than I had remembered. As my mind focused on its surroundings, and my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized in a haze of confusion that I was now wet, naked, sitting on a tile floor. I looked at my legs, and noticed that they had been shaved smooth. I stood up, and the head rush I experienced sent me right back to the floor. Face to face with a somewhat familiar shampoo bottle, I knelt on all fours trying to get my bearings.

Sudden and clear comprehension snapped into my mind. The bottle, this room, the soaked mop of hair hanging down from my head to the floor. Still kneeling on all fours in disbelief, I raised one hand to my chest, and found there, something that did not belong. A firm, supple breast. Well, I found two with a little more exploration.

I got to my feet again, this time being a little more careful. I felt shorter, and I didn’t dare look down to find out why. Instead I focused myself and walked over to the mirror at the sink in that strange bathroom.

Looking in the mirror was just one shock after another. Staring me in the eyes was the gorgeous woman from the magazine, and behind her in the mirror was the shower that had been in the ad. I reached out to the mirror, still not believing anything I was witnessing. The woman in the mirror reached out mirroring me. At this I closed my eyes and took my hand down from the mirror to find out what lay between my legs.

My hand crept down my stomach, I willed myself to keep going. As my fingers entered my pubic hair, I could feel my own touch on my skin. Further down my fingers found a slit. Instinct, curiosity and experience took my middle finger right to my clit, causing me to experience a slight amount of pleasure.

At this finding I squeezed my eyes harder shut, and wished myself to wake up. Wished myself back to my vacation bungalow, wished it would all be a dream!

The lurching came again and I found myself refocusing on my surroundings like before. I found myself lying on the floor in my vacation bungalow, sprawled out as if I had been unconscious. My entire side hurt where it touched the floor, and my head rang like I had hit my head hard.

 I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to do. I sat myself down in the wicker chair next to the table with the magazine. I moved my laptop out of the way and pulled the magazine closer. The woman was still there, smiling, holding her bottle of shampoo just like before. I took in the picture better, trying to figure out what had happened. From what I could see in the magazine photo, everything had been the same as my dream. Or that’s what I was going to call this anyways, just a dream.

“Ok” I thought, “I’m an intelligent person, I can figure this out. Maybe I bumped my head somehow. Maybe it was heatstroke.” Being a rational person, I was still weary of the stone so I used the hotel notepad provided on the table to push the stone off the magazine so I didn’t have to touch it.

“Ok, I’ll try the same thing again” I thought to myself. “This time though, I’ll choose something more familiar.” I turned the magazine a couple of pages until I found a picture that suited my taste. In this photo was a businessman in a suit, seemingly alone in a room, holding a glass of fine brandy, reading a newspaper.

Throwing all caution to the wind, and suppressing my logical mind, I grabbed the stone and placed it on the photo of the man. Nothing happened. I thought back to what had happened before, and decided to slide the rock around some. Nothing happened. “See, told you it was your imagination”. Giving up on this stupid game I let go of the stone to go get some rest.

The lurching came again. This time though I was able to focus faster on this room due to the dim setting of the room. There I was, no longer in my bungalow, no longer in my jogging shorts, but instead I was sitting in a very comfortable chair with a glass of brandy I had almost dropped out of shock. Gaining my composure I looked around the room. It was a beautifully furnished, expensive looking room, and I was alone. I brought the glass of brandy to my mouth and swallowed it all in one gulp. Everything here seemed real enough. The leather felt like leather, the wood felt and sounded like wood when knocked on, even brandy had tasted like brandy, expensive brandy at that. (I even checked in my pants to make sure there where no girl parts down there, and I was relieved. It was not my own tool, but at least there was a tool.)

 I explored my surroundings some and realized that the two doors leaving the room where jammed. Not locked, the handles moved and the locks turned, but the doors where just stuck, as if they where part of the wall itself.

After getting bored of this fancy room, I willed myself back, and found myself sitting in the chair, but slumped over on the table, again as if I had been unconscious. This time my face hurt, like I had smashed it down on the table.

Playing it safe I went over and lay on the bed to see what I could do with this stone. I spent the next hour placing the stone on different photos in the magazine, experiencing new places and new people. I tried a couple of photos with two people in them, and if I composed myself fast enough I could play the part of someone in the photo without alerting the other person that anything had changed. I learned quickly that if there was more than one person in a photo that I went into the one the stone was set on. I also learned that I could never leave the scope of the photo, within a reasonable distance. I even braved a couple pictures where I was once again a woman.

 I decided that it was time to quit for a while, to think on what was happening. Deciding to go back for one last trip “in”, I thumbed the pages back to the first photo, the woman in the shower. I wanted to explore *her*, instead of just exploring her surroundings.

Part 2

The week had turned out to be more than I had bargained for. A relaxing vacation on a remote island in Fiji had turned into the most exciting week of my life.

Sitting on the plane, I just closed my eyes and thought about all the things I could do with this stone. With a smile I fell asleep wondering how many adult magazines I would end up going through in the next year.

I dreamed of the stone. I was standing in the same place in Fiji that I had found the stone; the only difference was that now the stone was floating in the air weightless above the spot on the ground where it had laid. I walked closer to the stone, trying to make out the inscriptions. All I could make out was the image of that humanoid being in the center of the stone. As I was watching the stone, it spun 360 degrees, and stopped. This time the humanoid figure was glowing slightly, pulsing even. I awoke still on the plane with my hand in my pocket clutching the stone tightly. “I wonder if that’s some kind of sign.” I thought to myself.


Back home life went on as usual, except that after work every day I would come home with photos I had printed at work, magazines I had seen, or any other media that I thought would be interesting. I spent my nights learning and experiencing. I learned that when I entered a photo, my emotions took on slightly the same feeling as the photo portrayed. Once I had ended up crying my eyes out for the entire fifteen minutes I was in a photo, because the girl in the photo looked sad. Through trial and error I had also learned that to wish myself back home I had to close my eyes tightly before I wished.

Once during my experiments I had taken a photo of my own living room, with the stone sitting on the table. When I set the stone on it, I was whisked into the photo but there was no stone. I also learned that I was in my own body. A couple more experiments later and I found that I could be in my own body with whatever I was wearing at the time, so long as there was no one in the photo. This is how I started formulating a plan.


I had always wanted to get back at my “friend” of a couple years ago who had gone behind my back at the firm we both worked at, he had stolen away my chance to become vice president of the firm.

The plan was simple, get to the new house of my “friend” and get a photo through the window of my “friend’s” bedroom. Then I would use the stone to get myself into the room so I could dig around in the bedroom for any evidence of foul play that I could use against my “friend” without fear of getting caught.

Getting the photo turned out to be harder than I had thought. Getting over the huge fence and across the yard without being seen had been the easy part, but getting a photo of the master bedroom on the 2nd floor had been harder. Lets just say that the roof of a garden shed, a rake, a piece of rope, and a couple bad bruises where involved.

Once home I printed out the photo, set it down on my bed, got my stone from the drawer. I placed the stone down on the photo and let go.

The usual lurching came, which I had gotten used to, but what I hadn’t expected was to be laying down on my back in the dark. Unable to move, unable to even breathe, I laid there motionless. I tried closing my eyes to wish myself back home, but I could not even close my eyes! Unable to see in the dark, I relied on my other senses. I could smell a faint latex smell, I could hear but it was muffled, and I could feel that I was on a hard surface wearing some sort of loose clothes. Panic set in, it was like being locked in a box, paralyzed. After what seemed like a couple minutes of panic, I calmed down realizing that even though I was not breathing, I was also not suffocating.


What seemed like hours had passed, and somehow, even in this solitary confinement I was not bored. I was even a little horny. Focusing on this body I was in, I guessed that it was a man’s body. It kind of felt like I might have male parts, but not moving or breathing it was so hard to tell. Another thing that confused me was that if I was a male and I was horny like this, shouldn’t I feel myself getting hard?

More time passed and the only thing I could hear was the muffled sounds of the summer day from the photo passing by. Then finally something new, a sound. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. A motor of some kind, maybe a garage door opener. Then the hollering of a woman came next, yelling something about “make sure my car is cleaned” and “prepare my bath”. This was not a voice I recognized. And this was definitely not my friend.

Someone came into the room where I was “boxed” and I heard the light switch click on, but I could see no light. “Is it that late already to need lights?” I thought. The bathwater was run in the adjacent bathroom, as I heard the person leave the room.

All I could hear for a couple minutes was the bathwater running, until someone opened the door to the bedroom again and came in. A woman sighed and it sounded like she had thrown her coat on the bed or something soft. More small undecipherable sounds and then the bathwater stopped. The woman sighed as I heard her sink into the bathtub. The thought of a beautiful woman slipping naked into a bath didn’t help my condition any; this only made me more excited. Obviously the body I was in had something to do with that.

Fifteen minutes later the water from the tub started to drain. I could hear the woman toweling herself off. She rummaged around the room some making small disgruntled sighs and moans as she went.

I heard her plop down on the bed, open a drawer and pull something hard out. Then I heard a buzzing sound and the exaggerated sighs and moans of false pleasure. I imagined her masturbating on the bed, fingering herself and using the vibrator on her clit. More moaning from the woman and I could tell that she was frustrated that she could not get off.

I heard the vibrator turn off and heard it thrown down on the floor with a disgusted grunt. She walked loudly over towards my direction. A sudden blast of light from a crack in the box where it was opened blinded me. Again I tried to close my eyes, but in vein. Still blinded by the light, I felt her VERY warm hands on my skin lifting me up with ease. I felt my body dropped onto what felt like the bed. As my vision became clearer I could see the ceiling but could not move my eyes.

I heard her walk over to the other side of the room and then come back to the bed. I felt the bed slump under her weight as she climbed up standing on the bed above me.

She was pretty, not amazing, but definitely fuckable for her age. The sight of her naked body standing above me just made me even more excited.

“Alright, if I must, I must” she said as she lowered herself to rest sitting on my stomach. “If my vibrator can’t get me off, it’s always guaranteed that my fuck doll can!” she said excitedly. “I love a man I have full control over, and you fuck doll, are him right now. My toy, my pleasure, and you never complain or eat my chocolate.”

She raised herself up off my stomach and leaned forward some giving me a great view of her tits and dangling her hair on my face. She lowered herself onto my hard dildo cock, and let out a great moan of pleasure as it entered her. It was so warm to me, warmer three-fold than any woman had ever felt to me. She started to hump my cock as she leaned forward more and grabbed hold of the head of the bed for support with one hand. The other hand grabbed at the bed sheet to find the vibrator that she had picked back up.

I could feel her place the vibrator on my stomach and hold it there with one hand facing so that its tip was lying at the base of my cock. Every time she rode me up and down, her clit would bump into the vibrator. It didn’t take long before she got off, crying out profanities the whole time. As she finished her climax she fell forward onto my chest. Her warm breasts laying on my chest, her whole body feeling warmer than it should. As if my skin was only room temperature.

She leaned up enough to look me in they eyes. “You know one thing I never liked about a fuck doll” she said. “They never blink, but if I close your eyes it looks like you are ignoring me, but with your eyes open and unblinking, it’s kind of creepy.”

She fell off of me, and went over to turn off the light. Returning she lay next to me cuddled against my body, one arm on my chest and one leg resting up on my legs.

“Good night love.” She said sleepily as she reached up and pulled closed the latex eyelids of her fuck toy.

o 0 o



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