It was yet another Friday night. Jeff emerged from his parked car and walked the short distance, from the driveway of his friend Bill's home to the front door, bracing from the sharp, February chill of the evening air, as his footsteps crunched softly in the occasional patches of residual snow that had drifted across the pathway the day before. It was a good night to be indoors, he thought to himself, preferably with some cozy female companionship... but that, unfortunately, wasn't in the cards. In fact, it hadn't been, for many months now.
No... sadly, Jeff had been shot-down innumerable times since his nasty break-up with his girlfriend, the year before, failing repeatedly at the bars and clubs he regularly frequented... to say nothing of his lack of success at picking up his prime female targets at the handful of parties he'd attended this season. Perhaps Jenny had poisoned the well, in a parting act of vengeful spite, or maybe it was just that Jeff was 'one-time lucky'... it was difficult to say for certain.
Apparently, the dating standards of the local female population had risen substantially, lately. Quite substantially... to the point where Jeff, who considered himself to be reasonably good-looking and fit, gradually found that all the single women -anyway, those whom he was in the least bit attracted to- were now well out of his league. The truth, clearly, was that his job didn't pay very well, didn't impress, and clearly wasn't leading to anything better. It didn't help that his rather forceful, 'old-school' pick-up techniques uniformly went over like a lead balloon with the women he met. He wasn't a good prospect, and wasn't particularly charming or endearing, so he hit a constant brick wall.
As a result, Jeff was doing what many lonely guys have resigned themselves to these days: hanging out with their fellow male buddies... gaming and watching movies at home on a big, hi-def TV screen. His pal, Bill, wasn't much more successful, career-wise, than he, and even less so on the dating scene. In fact, Jeff strongly suspected Bill was still a virgin, heading into his late twenties... but, bless him, he had a killer home theater set-up. So, tonight was once again about crashing in the den of Bill's modest, rented house and watching an action-adventure epic on Blu-ray in 5.1 DTS sound. And maybe... just maybe... it'll involve something more. He certainly hoped so, since the current dating drought had left him horny as fuck, on nearly a constant basis, with precious few satisfactory outlets, beyond masturbation.
He knocked on Bill's door and soon heard the muffled thumps of approaching footsteps within. Jeff dug his left hand into his pants pocket and fondled the fob of his new key chain, the polished-stone yin-yang disc as smooth to his touch as glass. He briefly pulled it out and held it in his palm, taking another look at it under the porch light, before casually tossing it up and catching it in his hand, and quickly stuffing it back into its denim home, just as Bill opened the door and welcomed him in. Perhaps what he had been told the other day about the fob was completely crazy, but now, deep within his pocket, there was more radiant warmth cradled in his clenched fist than his own body heat could account for. At any rate, if nothing happened tonight, his personal risk was zero, so it was worth a try...
* * * * * * *
Maybe my imagination was getting the best of me, but Jeff seemed a bit glib when I greeted him at the door, I don't know... it was as if I had just missed catching him having a private laugh, at my expense, for falling for some sort of prank he had devised. There was no logical reason for this to be the case, though, since Jeff didn't exactly have the reputation for being a practical joker, so I put it out of my mind. I welcomed him inside, out of the winter evening's icy grip.
We engaged in our usual small talk before starting the film; minor gripes about our current jobs, dealing with the last snowstorm, describing a couple of hot-looking women we saw during the week (and how we wished they were here with us!), what chances the Kansas City Royals have of going all the way this coming season, etc. Before long, it was showtime. I grabbed the remote and loaded the Blu-ray disc, which featured a few trailers for the latest couple of superhero epics due out this summer, a sci-fi time-travel heist flick, and a WWII action-drama, which looked promising. Finally, the disc menu; I hit 'Play'...
* * * * * * *
Jeff had honestly been looking forward to seeing the movie, but tonight, he was far more interested in his own little secret 'live' production. He slowly... discreetly... snaked his hand into his pants' left front pocket, and clutched the key chain fob. As smoothly-polished as it was, the male and female gender symbols on the face of the fob -which took the place of the traditional pair of black and white dots of the yin-yang- were slightly raised, enough so that they could be subtly felt, as he ran his thumb gently across them, like braille dots to a blind reader.
As he feigned giving the movie his complete attention, Jeff stared at Bill out of the corner of his eye, focused his thoughts on his friend's very essence, and began to rub the fob with his thumb, in a circular, clockwise motion, sweeping around and around, from the male symbol to the female, again and again, without stopping. While doing this, he felt it, once more, grow warm in his hand; warmer than his body heat (but not painfully hot)... then suddenly cool down... and then swiftly warm up again. It seemed to pulse in his palm this way, eventually reaching a constant, thermic rhythm, as he steadily rubbed the fob's yin-yang face clockwise. Was this really going to work, or had he been conned into buying what was really just a weird little electronic toy, of no use other than as a hi-tech substitute for a string of 'worry beads'?
Jeff clandestinely scrutinized his friend, as he continued his secret activity, looking for any changes in Bill's appearance... but there was no evidence to be found. He recalled that he'd been told that he'd have to be a little patient for results to become apparent, so he finally decided to give the movie his full attention, while still stroking the fob, without pause, as he had been instructed.
After an exciting introductory action scene, the opening credits sequence began, full of surreal cgi women and guns, symbolizing the movie's overall tone, while a pop diva wailed the movie's catchy theme song. Jeff looked up at the clock on the wall, and saw that ten minutes had elapsed, and he glanced over at Bill. His jaw nearly dropped open when he saw that Bill's short hairstyle was appreciably longer; still short and 'butch', but it was definitely growing out! It had also shifted from dark-brown to an almost raven brunette.
Not only that, but the slight, five-o'clock shadow of beard stubble was gone! Jeff knew that Bill always kept himself thoroughly shaved, and closely, especially during the work week, so he usually didn't have much in the way of noticeable stubble... but no razor on earth could've gotten him looking this smooth. Instead, Bill now appeared to be someone who had undergone months of painstakingly-extensive electrolysis, neutralizing every last follicle, from the lower half of his face, downward. Upon further inspection, Jeff realized that Bill looked very slightly thinner, mainly his upper arms and neck... and faintly shorter. He was already losing a tiny bit of body mass.
So, that was it; the fob's magic was indeed real, and clearly was working, but at a nearly-imperceptible rate. It was like trying to watch a clock's hands move, or a lighted candle melt, in real time... not much could be seen if you kept your eyes on it, but if your attention was taken away for a few minutes, and you checked back, afterward, the evidence of change was plainly there. Jeff smiled. Bill saw the grin, but probably thought Jeff was reacting to what was unfolding on the screen, no doubt little-suspecting that he himself was, in fact, the prime focus.
* * * * * * *
I was so absorbed in the movie, which hit the ground running, that I didn't notice how quickly the time flew by. I glanced at the clock and saw that twenty minutes had already elapsed. Jeff seemed to be really into it, too, from the way he kept looking over at me and smiling. There's nothing quite like some prime cinematic escapism to help a guy unwind, after another busy week at work. The hot blonde chick on the screen, caught up in the movie hero's adventure, however, would help release a lot more of my end-of-week tension, I thought to myself, if she were here, instead, standing in front of me, stripping out of her sexy clothes.
I briefly drifted off into a daydream, during a minor lull in the screen action, imagining her naked, in front of me... tossing back her golden tresses, smiling enigmatically at me while sensuously running her dainty hands down her curvaceous hips... letting me fondle her big, pert tits... then sinking to her knees to give me an expert blowjob. My penis rose to attention at these thoughts, throbbing hotly, as I then imagined her sitting on my lap, riding my cock, moaning sweetly as I filled her completely. Strange, though, how my dick felt like it wasn't tenting my jeans quite as much as usual.
I looked over at Jeff, and he was still clearly enjoying himself. Well, I thought to myself, at least I have a good best friend over for company, if I can't have a hot girlfriend here tonight (-or any night!). It sure beats sitting in this place alone. Still, I couldn't shake the idea that Jeff was hiding something.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. The pizza was here! I paused the movie, got up, and made my way to the front door. Curiously, my jeans felt uncharacteristically tight in places, mainly in the seat. Maybe I should cut down on the pizza, after tonight, I thought. Upon opening the door, there was Craig, the kid who usually delivers the orders. He stood there, waiting patiently... the pizza box, piping-hot in its insulated pouch, was resting in his outstretched arms.
Half-bored, he recited his stock greeting: "Gianelli's Pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, large... that was with extra cheese, right?"
The end of his query trailed off, hanging in the cold night air with the frozen vapor cloud of his breath, as he gave me an odd, slightly-confused look, his eyes squinting, as they traveled from my face, down to my feet, and back up again.
Strangely, he seemed a bit taller than I remembered him being the last time he was here, a couple of weeks ago. He must still be going through puberty... a late-bloomer, I ruminated. He was getting pretty built, though. I guessed he was probably already a formidable member of whatever high school athletic team he was undoubtedly signed-up for; perhaps he was even the star of the team. I felt a bit intimidated in his presence, actually, which was odd, since he was just a local high school kid, several years my junior.
"Hi there, Craig. Yeah, thanks. That's perfect.", I replied. Hmm, funny... that came out a bit higher-pitched than I intended, as though my voice was still cracking, like it did around the time I was still his age. My throat was dry; I probably needed to drink something.
After an awkward pause, he stammered, "Uhhh... th-that'll be fourteen bucks."
"Fine. Here you go, buddy... plus your tip.", I said, thinly... passing him $16 cash, plus an extra 50 cents in change. Was it my imagination, or were my hands looking sort of... 'off'? Compared to his open hand, mine seemed... different. Slimmer, somehow; a little smaller... and I didn't realize my nails needed a trim. Eh, it was probably just a trick of the dim lighting on the front step. Also, some guys just have chunky-looking hands. I bet his girlfriend, whoever she might be, is well-acquainted with those big, strong hands.
I found that I'd been staring at him a moment too long for the transaction to warrant, which was pretty embarrassing. He gave me another weird look, then said, "Okay... well, enjoy your pie, uh, 'Bill'... thanks for the tip... have a good night. And hey, I hope you're feeling alright, man.", and quickly hustled back to his car and sped off to serve his next round of customers.
Huh, I thought. That was pretty odd. Craig usually didn't act so nervous and abrupt when he made previous deliveries. Other than a dry throat, I felt perfectly fine... why did he make that last comment? He also said my name with a hint of sarcasm, like it was some kind of put-on. Poor kid... I hope he wasn't high on something, especially when he's out there on the road. I closed the door and returned to the den with our meal, and resumed the show, still puzzling about Craig's strange reaction to me.
* * * * * * *
Jeff concealed an evil smile, as he watched Bill return with the pizza, his nostrils filling with its tangy, irresistible aroma. As far as he could tell, his friend was still oblivious to his slow, unwitting metamorphosis... even though he was, to look at him, clearly smaller and more effeminate in his appearance. His upper body was slighter, with narrowed shoulders, while his hips were beginning to flare out. He might've simply come across to others as a skinny teenager, struggling with the ravages of puberty, but his body frame was beginning to reveal an unmistakably female shape. His hair was growing longer and fuller, too, encroaching on his forehead and ears, though maybe not quite enough for Bill to really feel it much, yet... it was difficult to tell. The pizza guy must've noticed, however, judging from what Jeff had heard of their brief transaction at the door, and Bill had already developed an unconscious, mildly-feminine sway in his gait, as he walked back to the den. He wondered when Bill would finally realize what was happening.
When Bill turned to put the pizza box down on the coffee table and open it up, Jeff got a nice view of his transmogrifying bottom. It was now quite plump and shapely, as were his thighs, stretching the fabric of his faded jeans. No doubt his pelvis was growing wider and shifting its position, to allow for future childbirth, making his butt protrude out at an ideally-feminine 45-degree angle. Jeff was amazed how close to a total babe his still-male buddy was, at least when viewed from this particular perspective, and that Bill didn't seem to have caught on yet that anything was amiss... or else he was doing a bang-up job of hiding it from him. While he had no real sexual interest in the current 'she-male' state Bill presently was entering, Jeff nonetheless considered these swelling buttocks and hips, and what the rest of Bill would surely, ultimately become within the next hour... and it was making Jeff's cock hard and eager. Now, if his friend had been fully-female, at this moment, Jeff figured that he might very well have tried to take Bill from behind, doggy-style. While he would never openly admit this to anyone, the taboo nature of all this was driving him wild!
If Bill only knew just how androgynous-bordering-on-cute his face was becoming, at this point, he'd be shocked, Jeff thought. He looked like a borderline-pretty tomboy now, but the 'butch' qualities were gradually, inexorably fading away, much to Jeff's hidden delight.
* * * * * * *
Little things have been nagging at me, almost since the film began. I've been starting to feel a bit strange, here and there, but with having Jeff over, the nearly-nonstop action in the movie, and taking care of the pizza guy, I was ready to simply chalk it up to fatigue, after a busy week at work... I wasn't thinking totally straight, and maybe I was coming down with a cold as a result... perhaps Craig was correct in his reaction to me. But as the evening progressed, the increasingly-weird details began to mount up... things I could no longer ignore.
Forty-five minutes after starting the movie, I finally realized something was truly awry when, while seated normally, I found that my heels were no longer completely touching the floor, and my shoes seemed a little too roomy for my feet. Additionally, something was up with my pec muscles. They seemed to lose some of their taut definition, and gain a little weight, too, as if I had been slacking off from my regular workouts and was starting to go to pot... they hung on me, and also began to press against the fabric of my shirt, making my nipples chafe a bit, even though I was wearing a soft, rather comfortable t-shirt.
Whenever I would make a comment about the on-screen action, or laugh, my throat seemed slightly tighter, and my voice sounded a bit strange... higher and softer, and in a sort of animated, sing-song cadence that I, somehow, couldn't shake. For some reason, I couldn't quite reach my normal, lower register when I spoke. It was like when I spoke to Craig, earlier, only much worse. Even the sound of my breathing seemed, oddly, a bit higher-pitched than usual. At one point, I giddily laughed out loud (which seemed to be, disconcertingly, more like a giggle) at a particularly off-the-hook stunt in the movie... and I could swear that a high, little squeal came out of me, directly afterward, as I inhaled.
Looking over at Jeff, he didn't show any signs of noticing that anything weird was going on at all. Despite this, I was terrified, and vainly tried my best to hide from him what was inexplicably happening to me. I could sense that my penis and scrotum were feeling (unnervingly) less snug against my inner thighs, within my briefs, which now appeared to be a little loose in the crotch, but much tighter around my hips and thighs. Just above them, my six-pack stomach had lost definition, as far as I could tell, feeling softly-smooth to the touch, as I discreetly brushed my fingers across it, under my t-shirt.
I caught sight of my hips just beginning to jut out, where they hadn't before, and my hands, resting along side them, were clearly smaller and girlishly slender... so, what I had experienced, when paying Craig for the pizza, wasn't either a trick of the light, or his having unusually large hands, after all! I also noticed that I had, without realizing, effeminately crossed my legs, one curvy thigh resting atop the other. I quickly changed my sitting position, hoping Jeff didn't see anything, but only in hindsight did I realize that I continued to keep my legs tightly together, at the knees, rather than spreading them open, in a masculine pose, like I normally would.
By this time, I knew that I was developing breasts, both from their increasing gravity and their shape, as they pushed out tightly against my otherwise-baggier shirt; still small, but unmistakably female B-cup tits. All the pieces of the puzzle were suddenly fitting together... somehow, some way, I was slowly -but surely- changing into a woman!
A few minutes later, when it looked like Jeff wouldn't catch me doing it, I pulled at my collar and took a quick peek down the front of my shirt, and saw a valley of cleavage dividing two prominent hills of soft, creamy flesh... pendulous, globe-like and pushing further outward, sporting twin, conical nipples the size of thimbles, and partially-obstructing the view below them. If they weren't C-cups yet, they soon would be.
The fear and embarrassment of being seen like this began to mix with a secret thrill that I'd kept intensely private since my mid-teens, and my penis got rock-hard as a result... except that I found, in a quick, stealthy game of 'pocket pool', that it was so much smaller now, the size of a child's, if that. It could no longer bulge beneath the increasingly-baggy crotch of my jeans. To be blunt, my 'fishing tackle' was too small to even be fully grasped in my pocketed hand, and now could only be held between my thumb and forefinger. I felt other, frankly alarming things going on down there, as well, but I didn't dare try to sneak a look, what with Jeff in the same room with me.
In a counterproductive bid to maintain my charade of normalcy, I slipped off my (now) ill-fitting shoes and socks. While doing so, I self-consciously tried to sound 'macho', saying, "Man, my feet are too damn hot, they need some air..." -and I nearly froze as I said it, for I heard my own voice emerge as a contralto -still deep, but clearly higher and feminine! Jeff looked over at me, poker-faced, but with a twinkle in his eye, and turned his attention back to watch the movie, as if sensing nothing out of the ordinary.
I stretched my legs, while still seated, and discovered, with renewed surprise, at how dainty my feet looked, and how shapely my tapering calves and thighs appeared through the legs of my skinny jeans. -And my toenails were painted red! Quickly, out of fear, I reflexively tucked my legs up against my chest and under my chin, my somewhat-thinner, hairless arms wrapped around them, in an attempt to hide my slowly-burgeoning bust-line. I could feel the soft, tickling weight of locks of hair, that were now shaggily falling over my ears, forehead and the back of my neck... and then a few bangs dropped in front of my eyes, daring me to brush them out of the way with a small, graceful hand.
As my mind raced with the myriad changes simultaneously taking place, in a slow, inexorable march toward womanhood, what I failed to realize, was that this fetal-like 'tucked' sitting position, while casual, was more often taken by girls than guys! I was unwittingly sabotaging my own efforts, making myself look more feminine than ever! My widening hips, growing buttocks and narrowing waist were actually highlighted more while I sat in this stance. Especially, I feared, to Jeff, who could see me seated in profile, from where he was sitting, down the sofa from me.
Meanwhile, tiny as it was, my cock felt as ragingly hard as ever, but also so isolated from its normal surroundings. I guessed that it was now no larger than my little finger, and likely a bit shorter... and with no clear evidence that my testicles were still there at all. In fact, I sensed something that felt a bit like them, slowly rising up deep inside me, now well above my crotch. Not only that, but the inner plumbing of my penis felt like it was separating from its home base... my miniature hard-on looming a few inches above where my pee-hole now resided, farther beneath me, disturbingly close to my asshole. I took cold comfort in the fact that all this was hidden from Jeff's view.
I desperately attempted to, at least, seem to be engrossed in the movie... and while watching the story continue to unfold, I started paying less attention to the action and plot, and more on the physique of the movie hero.
"Damn, is he built!", I thought to myself, "And he has such charm, the way he slips in and out of danger with effortless ease... I'd like to meet him some time, tell him how much I admire his work, and... and... oh wow, I wonder if he'll take his shirt off in this scene... whoa..."
At the wrap-up of the film's climax, I noticed that a void had since opened up, down low in my crotch, and my erection, as strong as ever, felt sort of... different and misplaced... so tiny, and no longer central... and sort of, within me. A completely smooth and uncluttered groin. My tits had grown to D-cup size, and were squashed uncomfortably behind my sleek folded legs, my enlarged nipples about as sensitive as my... well, I guess it was my clit now. And below that, I perceived substantial extra padding throughout my seat, hips and thighs. I was much smaller now, and while snug in a few places, my clothes didn't really fit me at all, anymore.
Everywhere that the bare skin of one body part touched another, I felt a heavenly softness, and my hair had grown long and full enough to tumble down my shoulders and upper back. It felt so much finer, fuller and silkier than ever before, and I kept having to brush it out of my eyes, in a feminine sweep of my dainty hand. That was it, then. I was physically, completely a chick, through some phenomenon I couldn't begin to understand. What was I going to do? Jeff was sitting right there, in the same room, acting as if nothing had happened... how would he react? How could I even explain this, when I was so confused about it, myself? I felt so vulnerable and ashamed...
* * * * * * *
Holy shit!, Jeff thought to himself, his left thumb sore from the repetitive motion of its circling the yin-yang fob for over two hours, without pause... This worked out better than I ever could've dreamed! I've actually changed my best friend into a total fucking goddess of a babe!
And he was quite right. A woman of extraordinary beauty, who could've been plucked directly from any straight guy's sexy fantasy, now occupied the exact space where a man named 'Bill' once sat, a couple of hours before. There was no outward trace of his male origins remaining, other than his grey t-shirt and pale blue jeans, which now seemed both out-of-place, and incredibly sexy... half-hanging from, and half-clinging to, her petite, curvaceous frame.
Jeff had nearly, prematurely jizzed in his shorts a few moments before, when he saw 'Bill' -looking like a hot bitch in heat- fondling herself at the sight of the movie's star going shirtless, seemingly close to reaching orgasm, without going all the way. But now, as the film's long end-credits roll crawled slowly up the screen, Jeff was the only actual live man in the room, so maybe he could help her out with that little problem of hers.
* * * * * * *
The movie was over, as was, apparently, my continued existence as the man I thought I was. It was then that Jeff rose from his seat, and walked over to me, his face blooming into a devilish grin. I was so nervous... my rapidly-beating heart felt like it was about to crash through my rib cage.
"Well, well, well... what do we have here?", he said, with mock-surprise. "I gotta say, that's an interesting new look for you, buddy! Getting in touch with our feminine side, are we? Heh-heh-heh.".
I stared at him, unbelieving, cocking my head to one side, like a quizzical puppy. Why wasn't he shocked at this? He seemed more like an enthusiastic artist, admiring his own work-in-progress, than a witness to something so far out of the realm of everyday reality.
Checking me out, he gave me a wolf-whistle, which made my face flush, and basically answered the question before I could ask him. "-Of course, I helped you a little with that, behind the scenes... and you've passed with flying colors, Bro! Heh-heh..."
I looked down at myself, then back at him, embarrassed and confused. I stammered, "Y-You did this to me?? But--", and I stopped right there, shocked at the high, breathy soprano voice that was now mine, melodiously rising and falling with each syllable spoken! It was totally feminine, unlike the usual flat monotone that I, and most other men, normally project, when speaking aloud. In addition, I was increasingly more animated and effeminate in my hand gestures and overall body language, especially when speaking, embellishing the already girlish effect! This was doing me no favors!
Jeff's grin grew wider. "Yes, that's right... I did it. I'm not gonna tell you how... that will remain my secret. Let's just say that when I found out I could really do it, I decided to take our friendship to a whole new level, 'Bill'... one with an entirely new dynamic. Now stand up, let's get a better look at the 'new you'..."
Curious myself, I did as he asked. I got up from the sofa, my bare feet flat on the floor, expecting to meet him eye-to-eye, as always... only to find that, when facing him, my straight-ahead eye line was now level with his upper chest, reaching no higher. I had to be close to a foot shorter than him, which was also the amount of height I had obviously lost on this fateful evening, thanks to him! He began to remove his t-shirt, dropping it to the floor, and I was faced with a torso that was a wall of taut, chiseled muscle, festooned with a moderate mat of coarse body hair that I, myself, no longer possessed. My eyes climbed to meet his gaze, and found that they glittered with barely-contained lust. His smile was predatory, and I suddenly felt like a small, inadequate child in his newly-intimidating presence... or, more to the point, like a pathetic little lamb that had mistakenly entered a wolf's den.
Obviously thrilled, Jeff's eyes scanned me from head to toe and back again, with a prolonged pause at my chest. Then he reached and groped my ample left breast, running his hand under it to feel its heft, brushing his thumb over the erect nipple. His swift, bold touch made me shiver, and I started to back away. Before I could do so, he pinched my nipple and pulled on it, before freeing it to snap back. I let out a small gasp, out of a combination of surprise, pain and... pleasure.
"Here-", Jeff said, "-you should get a better look at who you are now... see what I'm seeing. But first, why don't you take off those clothes. Those things don't fit you anymore, anyway... you look like a sexy refugee, dude... er, dudette... Heh."
I gave him a nasty look, but -yielding to my own curiosity- ultimately consented, and removed what were now my too-large shirt, my half-tight jeans and my ill-fitting briefs. He took the remote control and switched the video source to the web-cam feed that I had trained on the very spot where I now sat, where I often Skyped from. I watched the sixty-inch hi-def screen in amazement, to see a stunning young vixen, easily Playboy centerfold material, looking back, completely nude, mimicking my every live movement.
I walked around a bit, and saw my hips and ass sway, my whole body presenting in an extremely sexy, feminine manner. It wasn't as though I wanted to, nor that I was being forced to act this way; it was more instinctual, like it was now my natural way of being and behaving. If anything, it was as though I had simply forgotten how to act believably masculine. I then tried to deliberately walk 'like a man', only to find the video camera capturing a pretty woman's caricature of a guy's walk... a broad, overly-exaggerated swagger, almost pantomiming John Wayne, or perhaps an orangutan. I might as well have tried scratching my (non-existent) balls and belching out loud. I didn't look like a man; I didn't even look like a boy. I just looked like what I was: a very pretty young woman, acting zany and uncouth. It was (distressingly) silly and cute, rather than convincing.
"Wow... y'know, you don't look anything like a 'Bill' anymore... you strike me as more of a 'Jill'. I think I'll call you that from now on, baby.", Jeff remarked, with a condescending smirk.
'Baby'?! -Ugh! He was already treating like his subordinate... like some helpless waif, no doubt because of his size advantage over me, and the fact that he was the one who still owned a penis. And this 'Jill' business; if he thought I was going to just discard my male birth name and go by whatever girl's name struck his fancy, he had another thing coming. I started to fume, my hands prissily planted on my wider, rounded hips, in consternation. I really wanted to punch his stupid face, the jerk, for doing this to me. Sure, I'd privately fantasized about changing into a hot woman like this, for years, but on my terms -not his, nor anyone else's! I meant to haul off and hit him, but once again my new body betrayed me, by reinterpreting my intentions in the heat of the moment, and I surprised myself by giving him a limp, girly slap, instead!
I'm sure it stung a little, but Jeff was more amused at this than anything. He laughed at me, as he rubbed the red mark I left on his cheek. Humiliated at how ineffectual the slap was, I tried again. This time, I formed a fist, though the wrong way, with my thumb tucked inside my curled fingers -since my now-longer red-painted nails would've otherwise dug painfully into my palm- and tried to pound him with the outer edge, as though I were giving him a closed-handed karate chop. He grabbed my narrow wrist in his big hand, easily, before I could connect, and held it fast in his more-powerful grip. I squirmed, but it felt like a vice. He laughed in my face again, and I died a little, inside.
"Sit your pretty ass back down, 'Jill'. If you really wanna play rough, we can play rough. I guess it's time to show you who's the boss now, you silly little bitch!", he commanded.
Then Jeff, my scheming 'pal', grabbed me, scooping me up in his big, strong arms, like a groom about to carry his bride over the threshold, and summarily tossed me down on the sofa. I defiantly tried getting up, but he sent me tumbling back down, with a quick, effortless shove. My mind reeled at how much stronger than me he was, particularly compared to my memories of beating him so many times at arm-wrestling!
Jeff sat back down and slid over to my end of the sofa. With a wide, wolfish smile still fixed on his face, he leaned into me, dominantly, pinning me against the padded armrest of the couch, easily. He returned to telling me what an incredibly beautiful and sexy girl I'd become, and that he simply couldn't hold back any longer. I was just too damn hot, and that he must have me, now, dammit. Then he stopped talking, his lips drawing closer to mine...
I struggled a bit... but, again, he was so much larger and stronger than I was now, not all that much different from the hero in the movie we were watching, really... and I couldn't stop him, as he began to get increasingly amorous and a little forceful, kissing me deeply... and fondling my big, soft, left breast with one hand, while undoing his fly with the other. My mind was, at once, a mass of confusion, with conflicting feelings of fear, anger and lust. The sound of his zipper opening, and the rustle of his pants falling down to his ankles, filled me with both excitement and dread. His penis soon tumbled heavily out of his briefs, looking a lot bigger than I expected it to be, as it bobbed up and down, growing larger and more erect as it engorged with his hot blood, topped by a shiny, thick purple head.
Before I knew it, he had removed all of his clothing... a horny male mate, as naked as I was... and more than ready to fuck me. Another effortless push, and I was on my back, my slight shoulders pressed up against the arm of the sofa. He spread my legs apart with little difficulty, exposing my tight, virgin pussy to his large, eager cock, ready for forceful, repeated entry, as I felt my new lady parts grow wet and slick. I found myself not really wanting to fight him anymore, but to be filled by him, so I surrendered to his taut, powerful body, his hard, pumping cock and his dominant male aura. In fact, I think I was beginning to fall in love with him, despite his extreme treachery. Maybe I really wanted every part of this, all along, and could only admit it to myself now, at this precise moment, under this particular set of circumstances.
I glanced over at my big TV screen, to see myself looking absolutely hot and moaning sexily, while being fucked, missionary-style, by my best friend... his face out of the frame, and discovered that the video feed was being recorded. As waves of pleasure hit me from his relentless thrusting, I realized that he could easily sell this footage as premium-grade amateur porn. What had begun as a night watching a movie, had now become one where we were the stars of our own, improvised production. I smiled at the thought of this, while the first of several intense orgasms rocked my newly-altered body, and I cried out his name in ecstasy. The struggle for both romantic companionship and a bigger income would no longer be a problem for either of us, it seemed, as long as I remained his sexy little slut, for good.
