Full story (14 500 characters - 5 parts) is open to subscribers here or on Patreon


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Part 1

— And don’t let me ever see your sorry ass here again! — a loud female shout made both Lera and Brian flinch, as they stood pressed against the brick wall in the shadows of a narrow alleyway. From a second-floor window, where the yelling came from, a pair of men's sneakers flew out with a loud crash, made a graceful arc through the air, and landed right at the feet of a man in a crumpled jacket.

— Oof, someone's evening didn’t go as planned, — Lera chuckled with the deep, unfamiliar voice that still didn't feel like hers, as she awkwardly tried to tug at the collar of the jacket that squeezed her shoulders and rubbed her neck.

— Yeah, — Brian replied, shaking his messy, reddish hair that kept falling into his eyes. — But for us… everything’s going according to... plan? — He stretched out his hand, holding a crumpled piece of paper with a crudely drawn map and a heart symbol. — According to this scribble, we should be... right here?

He glanced at the building where the sneakers had just flown out of, then looked at Lera — tall, short-haired, with a slightly surprised look on the face of his former "self." It still felt weird — seeing himself from the outside and at the same time hearing his own voice coming out of her now wide lips.

— Well, if that chick from the instructions wasn’t bullshitting us... — Lera drawled, turning to him. — We’re supposed to find "the corridor with the red door and the smell of cinnamon." Remember? The smell of cinnamon?

— Honestly, all I smell right now is perfume and my own... — he hesitated, blushing. — ...body. Or more like — yours. It's like… way too sensitive. This dress…

He slipped his fingers under the neckline, trying to adjust his breasts, but quickly jerked his hand away when a passerby stared at him with obvious curiosity.

— Hey! Don’t grope me in public, you perv, — Lera barely managed to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips curved up, betraying her amusement. — If you’re so eager, you can lock yourself in the restroom later, powder your "nose," chat with the girls about boys. But right now — focus, Brian. We’re here on business.

— Hilarious, — he muttered, barely keeping his balance on the heels, — it just itched, you know? These tits of yours… I’m already sick of them, and pff, — he blew a strand of reddish hair off his face, which immediately flopped back like it was mocking him. — And the hair! Let’s go already.

— Suck it up, Barbie, — Lera smirked and smacked him on the thigh. — You haven’t even experienced the joy of sticky underwear in the heat yet. Look, your thighs are already glued to your skirt, aren’t they?

Brian hissed through his teeth, instinctively shivering, and started nervously shifting from foot to foot, trying not to rub the inside of his thighs. He blinked and glanced down quickly — the edge of the dress had somehow ridden up higher, revealing not only his legs but also a fleeting glimpse of lace.

Part 2

— Lera, why the hell this dress?! — he hissed. — You had...Full story (14 500 characters - 5 parts) is open to subscribers here or on Patreon