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— Oh my god, these are... these are really my, ughm, I mean, my bitch sister Stacy’s tits, — Lee whispered, clutching the firm little breasts that pushed up under the white crop top with his new delicate fingers. He stood in front of the mirror in her room, eyes flicking between his own reflection and the rounded curve of his hips, now even more noticeable than when he wasn’t in her body.

The belly button piercing felt cool against the skin as Lee ran his palm down the exposed strip of her stomach. It felt like even the air touched this skin differently. He could feel how the jeans hugged every contour of his ass, accentuating the shape he used to ogle — but which now felt like something he definitely didn’t want to deal with every day.

— What the fuck... — he muttered, glancing around. — She... she actually lives like this? In this? How the hell does she even walk with a fucking ass like that? This is fucking ridiculous...

He tried to shift his stance, turn around — his hips swayed, the body moved with a playful fluidity that seemed to have a mind of its own. The more he moved, the more he realized even his walk wasn’t his anymore. It had turned feminine. Too smooth. Too... provocative.

— Hey, Stacy, you home? — came a voice from outside the window, muffled slightly by the glass, followed by a loud knock that made Lee's insides clench. It was John. Stacy’s boyfriend...(full story (5 000 characters - 3 parts) is open to subscribers)