My Lifelong Dream

When I watched "Chip 'n Dale" as a kid, one heroine always fascinated me. Well, you get it, right? And don't pretend you don't. Yes, yes. I'm talking about that very same blonde mouse inventor named Gadget Hackwrench. She wore her tight purple jumpsuit that hugged her slender figure so perfectly, accentuating her narrow waist and cute rounded hips, and on her forehead dangled those protective goggles. Her little voice was so bright and confident when she explained her crazy inventions, and I, a little boy named Francis, would blush every single time, imagining how I myself would end up next to her in their tree headquarters.

And I never told this to Monica, but damn, how much she really looked like her.

We had been dating for six months already, and all those six months, almost from the very beginning of our acquaintance, I kept picturing how she would look in that exact purple jumpsuit. And if you also added fake ears and a little tail… My fantasies grew hotter and more specific. Especially when we lay in bed and I, closing my eyes, imagined that it was not Monica under me, but that very Gadget who moaned my name and begged to "invent" something even hotter.

— You serious, Francis? You want me to go to the Halloween party dressed as Gadget?

I hesitated for a second, but then, trying to look as confident as possible, I shrugged as if it was something completely ordinary, although inside me everything had long twisted into a tight knot of anticipation and some strange excitement from which even my palms began to sweat a little and my body started to tremble.

— Well… what's wrong with that? — I muttered, trying not to look her straight in the eyes. — It would suit you. A lot.

Monica paused for a second, but then she laughed loudly and stepped right up to me. Her fingers slid over my chest, went lower, and gripped my already hard cock through my pants.

— Mmm, look at that, so hard already, — she purred, slowly stroking me with her palm. — I knew you were a bad boy, but to get so excited at the thought of your girlfriend turning into a cartoon mouse inventor…

Monica leaned closer, her lips almost touching my ear, her hot breath burning my skin. Her fingers squeezed a little tighter, rhythmically moving up and down the shaft through the thin fabric of my pants.

— Okay, baby. Since you want it so badly… I'll wear that costume. But with one condition.

I swallowed, feeling her fingers continue to move slowly.

— What kind?.. — I breathed out, immediately hearing how my voice trembled, either from anticipation or from some strange sudden feeling of fear.

Monica chuckled softly, pulling back a little but not removing her hand completely.

— Very simple, — she said, looking straight into my eyes. — You will also be my little mouse.

I wanted to pull away, but she squeezed my cock harder, so instead I involuntarily arched toward her.

— Wha… wha… what?… — I breathed out, feeling my throat suddenly go dry and my heart start pounding as if it wanted to jump out of my chest.

Monica only smiled wider, her fingers continuing to slowly and confidently squeeze and stroke my hard cock through the fabric, not letting me relax for even a second.

— Or don't you want me to be… — she pressed herself against me, her soft warm tongue that appeared as if from nowhere gently touched my neck, sliding up all the way to my ear, leaving behind a thin almost electric trail of sensation from which I immediately felt a surge of accumulated fluid from the last couple of days rush to my cock. — …your perfect Gadget, Frenny? Little mouse Frenny, my assistant.

I could no longer hold back. A hot stream of cum burst out of me straight into my underwear, soaking the fabric with thick heavy spurts. Monica felt it right away — her fingers squeezed even tighter, milking every drop out of me while I twitched and moaned, burying my face in her shoulder.

— Wow, you came already? — she laughed quietly, not letting go of my still pulsing cock. — Just from the name "Frenny" and the promise to become my little mouse.

— I… I… no! You, Monica, what kind of jokes are these? — I squeezed out, still trembling from the orgasm I had just experienced, feeling how the cum that had filled my underwear was starting to stick to the fabric, to my cock, and my cock, still hard and even more sensitive after the orgasm, was being squeezed by Monica's slender palm through the fabric of my pants, making my breathing ragged and confusing my thoughts.

— Jokes? — her voice became lower, more velvety, with that very same bright note that I loved so much from Gadget in the cartoon. — Oh no, Frenny. These are not jokes. You just came like a girl from my mere promise to make you my little mouse.

Her eyes sparkled and with that it felt as if reality itself shifted slightly.

— M-Monika… — I breathed out, feeling that my voice sounded somehow different, not just higher or softer, but with some strange, almost bright vibration.

I felt that Monica’s hand no longer held my cock, although it seemed like nothing had changed, and she still stood just as close and in the same pose. Her palm still squeezed the fabric of my pants — I could tell by the way the material pulled tighter against my thighs, now somehow stronger and tauter.

I sharply lowered my gaze.

And at that moment my breath caught.

The fabric of the t-shirt stretched to the limit over two huge, heavy breasts that now proudly jutted forward. They were round, firm, at least a D or DD cup, with nipples poking visibly through the thin material. Blonde strands of hair flowed down the sides, which I didn’t even realize were mine at first, but the moment I turned my head a little, those strands swayed with me and with my… ears?

I sharply raised my hands to my head and my fingers immediately bumped into soft, fluffy mouse ears that stuck straight up and twitched slightly with every nervous breath I took. Under my pants, in the back, something shifted at the same instant, sending a dull sensation of discomfort straight into my tailbone.

— Huh? What the?… — I squeaked, yes, exactly squeaked like a real chipmunk from the cartoon, only even higher, brighter and completely girly.

Monica slowly removed her hand from my now empty pants and stepped back half a pace to better examine the result. Her eyes burned with pure, hungry delight.

— Sorry, Frenny, that it happened so suddenly. Yes, I’m a bit of a witch and I always read your thoughts during sex. You were jerking off so… sweetly to Gadget in your head that I just couldn’t resist.

I tried to answer, but only a thin, trembling squeak escaped my throat. The huge breasts heaved heavily with every breath, nipples rubbing against the t-shirt fabric and sending sharp sparks straight down to my lower belly. My pants now hung loosely around my hips, and between my legs… there was nothing, just smooth and hot. Only a thin strip of thong dug between my ass cheeks, while a fluffy light-colored tail twitched nervously behind my back.

Wait… a thong?

I lowered my gaze and saw that I no longer wore the t-shirt or pants. Instead I had on an almost nothing-hiding ruffled apron like some housewife’s, tied around my neck, and a thin strip of fabric cutting between my buttocks, emphasizing every single goddamn movement, and somehow my hair had gone somewhere.

I tried to take a step back, but my new hips swayed too widely, the heavy tits swung along with them, forcing me to involuntarily arch and the tail of long hair slapped me across the back.

No. The hair hadn’t gone anywhere.

— Monica… please… — I squeaked again, feeling my ears nervously flatten against my head.

— No “please,” little mouse. First task for my assistant — wash all the dishes. Reward — sex with the real Gadget!

She snapped her fingers and literally before my eyes, like a picture on a TV screen, instead of Monica I saw her. Gadget Hackwrench in the flesh, standing in front of me in that very same tight purple jumpsuit that hugged her slender body so perfectly. Protective goggles pushed up onto her forehead, hair flowing over her shoulders, but with the exact expression Monica had worn when she looked at me a second ago.

— Well, Frenny? — she said in the voice of the actress who voiced Gadget. — Don’t just stand there like a post. The sink is waiting. And remember: every plate — until it shines.

She walked briskly past me, slapping my ass, and from that sudden sharp contact I squinted and literally jumped in place, feeling how with that jump my breasts bounced too and even my hips.

When I opened my eyes, I was already standing at the sink without even understanding how I had gotten there. Hot water was already running, steam rising over the dirty plates, pans and glasses left from yesterday’s dinner.

— The faster you wash, the faster you get your reward! — came the voice of “Gadget” from the next room, muffled by the sound of water and my loud heartbeat.

I turned toward the voice, slightly opening my mouth and wanting to object to something, but only a thin, trembling squeak escaped my throat. The huge breasts swayed heavily under the thin apron, nipples instantly hardening and pressing into the fabric, sending sharp hot sparks straight between my legs.

To hell with it. I’ll just wash the dishes, and then… I don’t even know, but we definitely need to talk with Monica more frankly.