If you like my art, sketches, stories, transformations you can find more like this on my Patreon page or in DeviatArt Premium Early Access folder for subscribers here. Every bit of support is truly appreciated, but just having you here means the most to me - without you, none of this would have been possible. Thank you very much!
Check also my shop at DeviantArt for other works
– No, no, that’s not what I meant – I blurted out, trying to sound convincing. – I just… I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m losing my mind. Maybe it’s just… I’m so tired that I start thinking nonsense. It doesn’t mean anything.
But Marek wasn’t listening anymore. His chest was heaving, his gaze remained heavy. He stepped toward me, and I instinctively shrank back.
– Listen, Apolonia! – His voice thundered so loudly that I pressed myself against the wall, feeling my legs turn to jelly. – I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this… this is too much! You’ve always been normal, you understand? Modest, calm! And now… what’s with all this weird talk?! What the hell’s been going on this whole damn evening, for God’s sake?!
He took another step forward, and I felt his massive figure block out all the light in the room. His breathing, heavy and deep, seemed to fill the space between us. I couldn’t look him in the eye, but I could feel his stare drilling into me.
– I’m your husband, Apolonia. That’s a fact, not some goddamn show – he continued, lowering his voice to an ominous growl. – Are you out of your mind or what? What are you trying to say? That you’re not you?! That I’m wrong?
I swallowed hard, feeling like the walls of the room were closing in. My breathing grew shallow, and my heart pounded wildly. This guy was either completely unhinged, getting so into this ridiculous role, or his brain had really been fried! God, he was so huge compared to me!
– I-I-I… Marek… – I stammered, staring somewhere past him, as if trying to find an escape in the wall behind.
For a moment, his gaze stayed just as heavy as before, but then something shifted in it. He exhaled heavily, as if releasing all his pent-up anger. His hands, which had been clenched into fists, slowly relaxed, and his shoulders eased.
– Fine – he said abruptly, standing up straight. His voice was calm but firm. – Let’s forget about it. You’re just overworked.
He stepped back, waved a hand toward the bed, and muttered, now without his earlier irritation:
– Lie down. It’s late. Don’t make a big drama out of this.
With that, he turned, walked to the bed, and plopped down on it with the kind of attitude that made it seem like all of this had been nothing more than a trivial domestic spat to him. The TV kept droning on monotonously, now sounding much louder against the silence that had fallen over the room.
I stayed by the wall, feeling my large breasts rise and fall with each breath. The thin, nearly transparent fabric of my nightgown barely covered them, every fold accentuating their shape, making me feel even more vulnerable. This fear, these new curves – it all felt so real that it took my breath away. My head felt empty, and one single thought echoed in my mind: "What the hell just happened?"
I wanted to move, but my body refused. I stared at Marek, who was already sprawled out on the bed, one leg thrown over the other. He glanced at me.
– Polya, to bed – he said dryly, not lifting his head from the pillow. His voice was sharp, like the crack of a whip.
My body flinched as if on reflex, but I kept standing there. Too many thoughts and emotions at once – shock, panic, confusion, anger. What the hell was I doing here? How had it come to this, with a man nearly twice my size literally ordering me to sleep in the same bed as him?
– Polya – his voice grew louder, more demanding. – I said, get in bed. Don’t just stand there like a statue.
I swallowed, feeling cold sweat trickle down my back. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. But in my situation, defying him would only make things worse. The cameras, his gaze, my helplessness – all of it screamed that I had no choice.
As if on autopilot, like an obedient "wife," I slowly moved toward the bed. "Just do it. Just get through this moment," I repeated to myself, like a cornered animal trying to convince itself it would all be over soon.
The bed looked far too narrow for the two of us, especially with someone as enormous as Marek. He took up nearly half the space, sprawled out like a king, while I lingered at the edge, gripping the hem of my shirt.
– Polya, stop stalling – he snapped, not even opening his eyes, as if this was his final order of the night.
I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the trembling. My legs felt like jelly, but I carefully sat on the edge, feeling the mattress dip slightly. The warm air from under the blanket brushed against my skin, a stark reminder of how unfamiliar everything now felt – every sensation, every detail.
Swallowing hard, I cautiously lay on my back, trying not to touch Marek. But because of his size, it was nearly impossible – my arm barely brushed against his forearm, which was solid and warm. I jerked it back sharply, trying to preserve whatever personal space I could.
The blanket draped over us was too warm and heavy, but I was afraid to move, not wanting to draw attention. Every movement now felt different in my body. My soft thighs seemed to meld into the mattress, making me feel like I was sinking into my own flesh. My full breasts pressed against my ribs, rising and falling slightly with each breath, the soft fabric of the shirt only emphasizing their presence.
– That’s it – Marek murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. – Good night, Polya.
I wanted to respond, but my tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. Instead of words, I simply gave a slight nod, though he couldn’t see it. My eyes closed on their own, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. I could feel my body rebelling against me: my damn tits made lying on my back uncomfortable, my hair tickled my face, and my lower back arched awkwardly, almost crying out for a pillow. Everything felt foreign, unreal.
Marek shifted slightly next to me, settling in more comfortably. His hand briefly brushed against my shoulder, and I barely managed to suppress the urge to pull away even further. I could feel his warmth, his strength – it was like a closeness that inspired both fear and irritation.
"This is just one night," I thought, gritting my teeth. – "Just one night. I need to get through this to survive. To find a way out of this damn trap."
I turned onto my side with difficulty, feeling the softness of my breasts making my body adjust to lying differently than before. It was annoying, distracting. My breasts pushed forward, almost demanding attention, and every slight movement reminded me of its weight, its presence.
I stared into the darkness ahead, clinging to the edge of the bed to create as much distance as possible between myself and Marek. His steady breathing indicated that he’d already fallen asleep. But for me, the night was just beginning.
Thoughts swirled in my head like a storm. What the hell was I doing here? Why had I even agreed to this stupid experiment? Steph… Stephanie. Where was she now? She probably didn’t even know I’d ended up in this damn situation. Or did she? What if she was stuck in something similar? What if she was in a body like mine and trapped by some "husband" too?
"You wanted adventure and money, Steph? Well, here you go, damn it. Thanks a lot. Now I’m some chick! And I’m sharing a bed with a husband," I thought bitterly, clutching the blanket and wincing at the disgust.
I remembered how Steph had convinced me to join the experiment. Her voice had sounded so enthusiastic, so confident. "Mike, it’s just for a couple of months. We’ll make so much money that we’ll never have to work again. Imagine it – you, me, a house on the coast, a new car… It’s just a role. We can handle it."
Yeah, sure, we can handle it. Here I am, "Polya," lying in bed next to a stranger, while she’s probably off living her new life somewhere. Maybe she doesn’t even remember me? Maybe her mind works differently now? That thought hit me so hard that I flinched.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to convince myself to calm down. But how could I, when my entire body was a traitorous reminder that I was no longer me? Every breath, every movement, even the way my skin felt the blanket – it was all wrong. And that’s not even mentioning Marek. His warm back was dangerously close, but I forced myself to ignore it, focusing on my breathing.
"I need to think of a plan. Tomorrow I’ll… what will I do tomorrow? What the hell am I supposed to do?! Go to work as a cleaner?!" I thought, biting my lip. All these cameras, this ridiculous penalty system – it all pushed me toward one thing: playing the role. Pretending to be Apolonia. But how long could I keep this up? Especially if Marek decided to keep acting like he had today.
I clenched my fists under the blanket. "Alright, Mike. You’re smart. You’ve always found a way out. You’ll find one now too. I just need time. I need to follow the rules to avoid penalties, and then… Then I’ll find a way to escape. Or at least figure out where Steph is."
Those thoughts brought a small sense of relief. Time dragged on, but I could feel exhaustion starting to take over. My body, unfamiliar but mine now, demanded rest.
"It’s just a game," I told myself, drifting off. – "Just a goddamn game. And I’m going to win it."