Bass Instinct

 

Artwork - Ivuki

Ryo felt like a moron, having quietly stormed out of the venue his small-time band was about to perform at without letting them even know. Flopping onto his bed at home and steeping himself in what was usually comforting silence did little to convince him it wasn't a colossal mistake. He was struggling financially as twenty-something college dropout and the gig would've paid well, but his damn nerves wouldn't settle. He had little confidence in his bass playing and had too much self respect to make a fool of himself by going on stage.

He buried his head into a pillow and mumbled, "I'm just not ready for the real deal."

It wasn't simply his skills that deterred him from the stage though. Ryo was a passionate musician and felt his fellow band mates were only in it for the money. They quickly abandoned their individuality and focused on aiming for a more marketable sound. It was too big a step over the line. He'd rather give up music all together than sellout.

Rising up from his bed Ryo said, "Why am I beating myself up? Abandoning your uniqueness is equivalent to dying and there is no way I’m doing that."

That's right, he was an oddball and real musician, and that would never change. With his pride soaring once more he decided to let loose his remaining stress from the night with a good jerk off. But what music should he pick to set the mood?

After a half an hour he had compiled a small selection of songs featuring some of his favorite bassists, one of which was Suzi Quatro. Her playing always got him in a special mood, strumming at his heartstrings in a way few could. He wasn't quite sure why their connection was profound, but he knew her sick bass lines could keep his libido going.

Organizing the playlist into the order he wanted, he was ready to go and slipped out of his jeans. Sitting on a bean bag chair in front of a smart TV, he started up a porno and whipped out his cock. He skipped forward straight to the action, foreplay the last thing the frustrated bassist needed.

"Alright, who is gonna start us off?" Ryo cheekily whispered, his playlist opening with the song Won't Get Fooled Again by the band The Who.

It didn't take long for John Entwistle's bass playing to stir up some heat in his loins. The thick tone and their aggressive technique really accentuated the energetic sex displayed on the screen. The satisfying triplets formed a fast percussive connection straight to Ryo's cock, compelling him to stroke faster. It didn't take long for him to realize something felt different about this jerk off, every slap and flick of the bass playing elevating the pleasure. Soon enough, he wasn't even watching the sex anymore, keying in on the music alone, eyes closed, pressing his free hand to the floor while leaning back.

Ryo's cock gave a twitch as he thought, I wish I could play to John's level.

What followed were a series of wishful thoughts from him, envy and annoyance dripping from each one. He thought of himself as just as passionate, just as cool as John; so why couldn't he play like him!

As the emotion bubbled forth, his cock throbbed with need, it's girth swelling in his hand. Eyes still closed and envisioning himself on stage, his dick lengthened unnaturally in his grip. With each pass of his hand across it's surface came another inch.

A confused moan spilled from his lips after every growth spurt, each one bringing another hike in pleasure. He was in the zone, his fingers prancing with a creative fervor trying to mimic the inner vision of himself playing Entwistle's music. Surprisingly, he found himself matching the rhythmic flavour, as if his strokes where sliding up and down the neck of a bass guitar. Except it was his now 2 foot dick.

Ryo had never been able to pull off playing this song, let alone picture himself doing it. Here he was though, learning in real time as if he possessed a raw talent for it. It felt second nature to his hand, no longer jerking but playing his cock like a bass, palm sliding up and down the shaft with fingers tapping at tabs. Each touch to his dick—especially when he pressed a finger like holding a note—felt invigorating. The more he treated it like an instrument the more it grew, not only longer but flatter on one side, the hardened, spongy flesh pulsating into the shape of a guitar neck.

Feeling his body relax he limply slid into the folds of the beat filling his musically driven soul. He felt no compulsion to open his eyes and awaken from the dream, wanting to live in the moment as the prodigy he always figured he'd be. He was so impressed with himself, so turned on!

"Oh yes... Yes! That's it."

The first words out of him during his session were ones of self satisfaction, admiring the textile evolution of his skill. He had no idea why it had never clicked with him before. He was a music genius so why couldn't he ever—

"O-Oooh~."

Ryo bucked, feeling pre-cum bubble out his dick along with something else, yet he persisted with his playing on his mind's stage, unconcerned with whatever his actual body was doing. His body was merely adjusting to his budding technique anyways, a bunching of bass strings forcing themselves out the head of his penis, brought out by the magical heat coursing through his genitals. The instrument he was playing like an extension of himself was becoming an actual extension to his body.

The bass strings untwined as the song hurled towards it's conclusion. Ryo felt sad it had to end, but was anxious to get to the next song to see if he could carry this revelatory playing onto the next. That anticipation kept the iron burning hot within his budding instrument, which was now the length of a bass' neck at 34 inches, compelled to become the right tool for bringing it's master's playing into reality. The final stretch of the song came to Ryo's fingertips and the 4 strings vibrating within his dick peeled through the surface of the skin as easily as passing through water and settled into position. All the veins in his penis were bloated and pumping wild to the beat, their ribbed shapes straightening and positioning like frets onto the fleshy flatboard beneath the freshly tuned strings being strummed.

Unable to hold back his delight, Ryo's soft moans and typically calm demeanor broke into several yelps of pleasure. The puffed up head of his dick resting atop his long, human bass neck, launched many thick streams of cum at the TV screen as notes from the song were at last played into reality by Ryo's own hands. It was as satisfactory a release as the man had ever felt, his spunk making contact with loud, healthy thwacks. He could sense it was only the beginning though.

Groggily opening his eyes halfway, he could roughly make out the shape of a bass within his hands. Catching his breath, the final note faded from The Who and his fingers settled. The rush from the experience was nearly gone but still clinging on as a rumble deep within his balls.

What else can I pull out of myself? he wondered, not truly registering the reality of his transformation but thinking of things on a spiritual level. Closing his eyes once more, he was ready for the music of his idols to teach him more, to... mold him.

Then it hit him like a bolt of lighting, the heavy vocals and loud lead in of the next song, The Wild One by Suzi Quatro.

All my life I wanted to be somebody and here I am!

The words from Ryo's favorite bassist were a powerful, reaffirming punch to the gut that forced his eyes wide open so that he could face reality. Pre-cum was already leaking as his body bucked in pleasure, agreeing with the song's loud declaration. All his life Ryo wanted to be a someone in music, someone as good and true to themselves as Suzi.

I know what I got and there and there ain't nobody gonna take it away from me!
So let me tell you what I am!

Suzi's singing and playing were like a revelation to him, his hands immediately syncing to the music out of his control as he fell to the floor off his bean bag. He had awoken to a great truth he hadn't processed yet, but his mind was catching up, bottled up thoughts and long held denials crashing into each other.

As Suzi's vocals continued on, her playing pushed her punchy vocals like a heavy metal sermon that had to be heard. She wasn't going to let anyone mistake who she was. Ryo slid and plucked at his bass cock alongside her, but the truth he felt coming forth, the truth he wanted to share, was something different.

It all clicked, falling into place like his talent for bass. He'd always admired female basissts the most, Suzi being at the top, and for the longest time he was to fickle to think of the why. Why did they resonate with him so much more as  role models? Why with the ones who sang did their voices make him envious? Why did he yearn to be so much like them, to... dress and present like them?

Ryo's voice cracked, his burgeoning moans hiking in pitch while retaining their soft, cool allure. There was something he desperately wanted to say, that he had to admit.

"I-Im a giiirl, ooooh~."

Ryo was a woman and always had been. Her voice settled into it's true tenor, finally freed and able to join the rest of her true self spilling forth. Now, she needed her body.

Her body wasn't going to change itself, that much she knew. Her very sense of self had become an instrument she needed to master and she was determined, plucking away her balls and strumming away her mass. Every note perfectly played rejected the masculinity that had caged her.

As her balls disappeared they pumped every ounce of cum they could into her bass cock, which was now becoming as hard as physical wood. She had no need for a dick anymore after all. If she was a woman, she needed an instrument that would match her beauty.

Suzi assisted in any way she could, her music soaking into Ryo's body and forming bass guitar like years worth of lessons and self discovery. Her body shivered as it shrank, the broad, bulky body she resented fading away towards the slim and slender gal she envisioned herself as. Her playing too continued to evolve, becoming more finessed and creative, Ryo adding some of her own flare despite still following the structure of the song.

The masterful performance shredded the skin of her instrument, her gliding touch peeling the flesh away to reveal it's polished, Indian rosewood neck, providing a smooth and fast feel. The flat top of the cock bass' skin flaked away from every vibration of the strings, ebony wood her choice for the fingerboard as it's density provided lots of sustain, attack and stability. The smoother touch of the bass made her playing more effortless and it's arousal more poignant, the mushroom head pulsating with the same fiery intensity of the music pounding into it. Every note was a gift to the world and the vestiges of her cock knew it, trembling alongside her transforming body as ass cheeks swelled and hips burgeoned. Small yet perky breasts inflated as did her ego, her high opinion of herself she always carried feeling justified through her emerging skills and femininity.

It was a weird way to discover oneself for sure, but she was fine with being thought of as weird—hell she craved it. She was an eccentric girl who loved messing with others, a fun contrast to her often expressionless behaviour. So what if she was somewhat tactless, Ryo was Ryo and Ryo was awesome.

A soft, elated smile crossed the squirming woman's face as her playing roared towards it conclusion alongside her idol Suzi. Her body roared towards it's own conclusion as well, sides caving in, hands and feet becoming cuter, and light skin growing softer. She was becoming someone who could stand proudly alongside the greats she sought to reach. That said, some things were still unsettled, her head unchanged as well as lacking her precious pussy between her legs.

Ryo moaned in delight anyways, without a worry. Her playlist had so far awakened her to new truths, and she was certain the final track would unlock the last door to her musician's heart. So she focused on her bass, predicting a mighty release waiting at the end of the final riff. The instrument was throbbing like mad and ready to let loose 22 years worth of lies, to expel the false Ryo!

Let it go, Ryo told herself, feeling foolish that she had denied her own existence. I have to let it all go!

"Uhn, oh! OOOOOOHH!!"

Ryo's cool girl composure broke as a showering of cum began to burst from the head of her bass. It was the most pleasurable experience of her life, all that she rejected ejaculating out her bloated head. It was almost cute, the thick wads of masculinity that had held her back raining down on her now female body, desperate to still cling to her. She would humor their swan song, thankful that her old self could make her feel such ecstasy, but his cumming on her was a mere formality. This cum was not for him but for her as a newborn woman.

The spunk showed no signs of letting up, the woman's shivering hands anticipating the final song after strumming the final note of the last. Staring at the out of tune head of her bass, still human and still male, she welcomed the beat of the next song, Hear Me Out by The Pixies, with passionate cries. Four large bumps began to form on the left side while the mushroom head elongated, each bump trying to rotate like a tuning peg as they extended out. She was ready for her finale.

It was now Paz Lenchantin's job as bassist of the last track to finish Ryo's story and she was off to a tactical start, singing about how she had this problem in her life and that she wanted others to hear her out. Ryo played alongside her idol, her cumming unrelenting as it felt she was being directly spoken to. Her woodifying mushroom head was teased by the sick licks she was producing, emptying every last drop of the woman's old self onto her clothed body. Ryo had never been one to care much about looks, so squirming about in cum-stained clothes shouldn't have concerned her. Yet, she realized now as the music reverberated through her, that was a result of being displeased with her old looks. She wanted to look good as a woman, but truth be told she still possessed some preferences towards masculine clothes, which confused her.

All I'm trying to say is
It's alright
It's alright
It's okay
It's alright
It's okay

Paz delivered words of assurance. Ryo should dress how she felt. It didn't matter about looking girly or manly, Paz was a testament to that—often vying for a unisex sense of fashion. Music was a universal art form in Ryo's mind and she wanted to dress in a way that communicated that belief, a look not distinguished on the basis of sex or gender.

With that decided, the woman’s instrument finally found it's tune, nothing left to be communicated between woman and bass as its urethral opening began to seal and the cumming fell to a trickle. The bumpy side of her bass head flattened straight and silver tuning pegs wriggled into being. The opposite side became more wavy and stylish, a wood polish forming on the surface and spreading out across the rest of the flattening head. There was no more spongy skin, no more cum spilling, absolutely no remnants left of the male organ from before. Ryo now possessed her heart's instrument within her hands and it sounded beautiful.

There was a parting gift in the male seed riddling her clothing though. Her souls song had instilled within it a purpose, and that purpose was spreading. The crusty and damp spots of cum all liquefied and increased in size, rolling across the cotton fibers and denim surfaces like rushing water.

The woman's attire rustled and flexed to her will, her visions of the many outfits of Paz sending signals to the spreading stains what to incorporate into her look. Her red, trendy band tee was dyed black and finely fit to her female shape while shifting itself into a collared shirt—longer, slightly puffy sleeves weaving themselves into existence. A dapper touch was brought to the look through the shirt draping a bit in the back reminiscent to coattails and some remaining red forming a corded, decorative thread beneath the collar. Her jeans had the most drastic change, turning soft and flowy, the seams on the legs breaking apart before fusing back together into rolling waves of cloth. She now had a long, pleated gray skirt, her bass neck hiking it up in the front where it protruded out. It allowed Ryo to see the majesty of her new black pantyhose forming from her pulled down boxers, their soft, comforting texture caressing every curve of her beautiful legs. By the time the leggings reached her feet, they were able to slip inside a pair of glossy black footwear, completing the look.

Ryo sighed in satisfaction, feeling at home in her new drip. She was only a few steps away from being reborn. She could feel her instrument ready to be born alongside her as well, kicking within a growing emptiness in her gut like a baby in the womb. This bass was her baby, her old self the father and her new self the mother that would raise it to it's full potential. Even though its body hadn't formed she could picture it, her beautiful fender precision bass.

"Uhn... Hooh! Yes! It's coming..."

Ryo tensed on the floor of her room, her baby bass kicking harder against her abdomen as it grew inside her. The rounded protrusions near the neck of the bass began to dent against the flesh of her tummy, her womb stretching unnaturally large to accommodate the growing body inside her. It made her wince with pained joy, her stomach bulging more with each kick. All the while she thought to herself, strange as it might seem, how would I look to my child?

It was a simple question, but a complex one for Ryo. She was a woman no doubt, but had no preferences toward overtly girly tendencies nor fitting herself into the traditional molds of one. If her clothing was any indication she preferred something less rigid and in between. As she struggled, Paz's words helped guide her one final time.

Tried it this way
And I tried it that way
Can't say it worked out
In any old way
Hear me out

For Ryo it meant to stop dwelling on the semantics and just go with how she felt right now in her moment of discovery. She was a woman, both beautiful and handsome, one who could rock the fuck out with the reservedness of someone who knew they were that good. She needed to look—

"C-Coooloooh~!"

Ryo's eyes dilated, pupils turning from brown to yellow in an instant while warmth spread across her face and through her scalp. Slowly her shabby, short hair fluttered down to shoulder length into an unorthodox cut—tapered bangs with the left side traditionally cut, and the right side having blunt ends with the hair on the sides of her cheek grown out longer than on the left and held together by two black hair clips. Her face scrunched and crunched under a transformative massage, her masculine features not completely disappearing but repurposing into smaller, androgynous touches upon a handsome, female face. Her complexion softened and removed all blemishes aside from a mole on her left cheek, which remained to play the part of a beauty spot.

As her new features settled in Ryo blushed, confident she now possessed her true face. Her instrument then kicked more aggressively inside her, clearly pleased with the results as well. She was on the home stretch and all that was left was to push her darn bass out. She was excited to feel the release of a woman and to set her soul's song free!

The Pixies’ song and Ryo's playing were masterfully synced up, sending chills into the bass's body trapped inside, encouraging it's quick growth. The horny musician was letting out a flurry of uncomposed moans, unable to keep her cool under the blissful feeling of her bass' body pushing forth against her vaginal walls. The flesh of her abdomen became like putty, deforming into the shape of the bass beneath as it was pulled forth by the woman's grip. The harder she strummed the more it emerged, one of the glossy protrusions cutting open a fresh, wet slit on its way out.

"Gaaahn! Aaaah~! My Baaaaassss!"

She kept huffing and moaning, the strain of separating the bass from her physical form more arousing than she could have possibly imagined. Her playing was becoming more frantic and out of sync, but the music had already done it's job. The plucking and slapping was running off the pure rush of what she was birthing into the world. Halfway out of her, the back end was still taking shape inside.

"H-Hyaah! OOOOOH FUUUUUCK!"

Ryo admittedly felt embarrassed letting her cool demeanor crumble, but it was too much to withstand, the cold, metal bridge of the bass gliding across her inner walls and eventually flicking her sensitive clit on its way out. It signaled the end though, so there was need to rejoice and let loose, her fingers wildly traversing the strings above the neck and pick guard as the vanilla colored bass finally separated from the woman with a loud squelch. She was no longer playing to the playlist, whose final notes had faded from her ears, but her own bass solo—her soul's song.

Her female juices spilled out of her for the first time and Ryo gave an accentuated squeak before moaning in bliss for what felt like an eternity. Her rockin’ solo felt transcendent, delivering shivering, orgasmic shockwaves through her body, channeled through the bass' electrical cord still plugged into her pussy. She wished she could play in this moment forever, but knew it needed to end for her new journey to begin.

So she strummed the final chords, her arms shaking as she felt the bass cord unplug from her inner outlet and the vibrating force of her song leave her instrument. Her entire body was pulsating by the finale, her pussy squirting several times and expelling the cord. She laid exhausted on the floor, the butt of her bass tapping the wood as it went quiet. All she could do was bask in the aftermath and ride the ripples of pleasure as long as she could. She was satisfied though, to have produced such a life changing performance.

A million thoughts were running through her mind over what came next. How would she explain her change? Where could she find a new band? How good had she actually become now at the bass? What should she buy from the record store tomorrow? She groaned at the thought of dealing with all of it and tossed to her side.

After sitting in contemplation for a few minutes she figured the first person she should get a hold of was her friend Naoki Ijichi. He took everything in stride and was the friendliest person she knew she could trust. She was getting hungry as well and he would probably pay for a meal given the circumstances.

Ryo took one last look at her bass before getting up, wishing desperately for a band that got music like she did. She then remembered Naoki played drums or at least had mentioned such. They had never talked about music beyond favorite bands, but maybe now was the time to start. Perhaps this could be fate. Surely there were others like herself out there, with songs eagerly waiting to be played.