CONTENT WARNING: This story features bodysuits that are used to transform woman into femboys who then have gay sex. Additionally, the MC does not wear a mask with her bodysuit as she doesn't feel the need to.



Blake stepped into the changing room. He had been looking forward to another day of teasing the clientele and attracting the eyes of men and women alike.

But he would need to get into uniform before he could do that.

Blake unbuttoned his blouse and skirt, letting his clothes fall to the clean tile floor, and deftly unclasped his bra. Gravity tugged on his hefty breasts, pulling them into a teardrop shape.

Another reason Blake loved coming into work; he could become his truest self.

He pulled his uniform from its hanger. The uniform was custom-made with light mocha-colored skin and came four feet ten inches from head to toe—almost a foot and a half shorter than himself.

Blake was taller than most women, just over six feet tall. He had slender legs, and his stomach had recently developed muscle tone. He was told working out would make his boobs smaller, but it wasn’t working out.

But his fortune turned around when his close friend, Steph, got him a job at Paradis des Garçons. Blake was surprised to learn that the Femboy Hooters were hiring both men and women. He thought they were going to stick him in the kitchen or something.

That’s when his friend told him about the company’s closely guarded secret. He wasn’t sure how their uniforms worked, nor did he really care. All he knew was that once he pulled synthetic skin up to his wide hips and aligned its legs and toes with his, the uniform would start working its magic.

Blake’s point of view fell, and he could feel his manhood coming to life. Even though the uniform he requested was on the demure side, he could feel his blood rushing to fill all ten inches of his holy sword.

It was something he struggled with every shift. His co-workers would giggle, and the manager would groan whenever they noticed him lost in his flight of fancy.

Lost in his fantasies, Blake dreamed of a strong hero—a knight who would reach out with both hands to wield his mighty Excalibur. To polish his master’s lance and use his saliva to get it to shine. Or even to break in a new squire, sheathing his holy sword into a tight boy scabbard.

Ah, not good… Blake managed to snap himself out of his reverie. The manager told him that if he needed to come into the women’s changing room again just to get Blake to show up for work, he would swap Blake’s uniform out for a different one.

Blake looked down, irritated his fat chest was still there and blocking the view of his amazingly thick and veiny d—holy sword.

His uniform was a front zip-up suit with a small zipper running from his crotch to the neck. He could slide his arms in easily enough, but getting the zipper over his chest was always a pain.

He hunched forward and pulled his uniform together as much as possible while pulling up on the zipper.

“Oh, Blake. You haven’t finished changing yet?”

Blake’s close friend Stephanie had quietly entered the changing room to see her close friend struggling to put her uniform on. Steph was around the same age as Blake, but her flat chest and petite frame were something he envied.

“Yeah… do you think you can help me out?”

Blake held the uniform in place while Steph got the zipper over his chest up to where the neck cuts off. The zipper was then tucked into what anyone might recognize as an Adam’s apple.

The uniform flattened his chest until his body lost its voluptuous form leaving behind only the slightest of curve coming from his thin waist.

Steph let out a relieved sigh before noticing Blake’s Excalibur. She giggled to herself as she watched him reach into his locker. “You going to clean that first?”

“I will, but before that,” Blake pulled a lube shooter out of his locker. “It’ll just get messy again, so I might as well wait until I’m done.”

Blake relaxed on the changing room bench in front of a mirror. He placed a hand on his round butt cheek and lined the tip of the lube shooter up to his anus.

It was cold to the touch, and it made him pucker, but after taking a deep breath, he was able to slide the tip in. His holy sword was pointed skyward and twitched at his butt being filled. Thick pre-cum started to run down the length of his shaft.

Blake removed the lube shooter. While his anus leaked the excess, he stopped it with a glass buttplug with a heart-shaped gam at the end.

“All done?” Steph asked, standing over her friend.

She had just finished getting completely dressed. Her uniform had a more athletic flare, with toned muscles on her slender body.

Her short blond hair was styled into a pair of Chinese buns, and he wore a tight sleeveless Chinese dress with an open keyhole that revealed the definition of her pecs. The skirt was also very short, and the side cut rose to her waist, showing off her breedable boy hips and panty waistband.

“Almost. Just let me finish up.” Blake said in a breathy voice.

He reached for his tainted holy sword, but Steph stopped him. She placed her hand on his and locked their fingers, bringing her face close to his penis.

“You’re not wearing your choker?”

“I’ll put it on later. You snapped my last one.”

She could smell the musk of the fresh pre-cum. Reaching out with her tongue, she cleaned to clear white love liquid. Reaching the tip, she gave Blake’s penis a kiss with her soft, painted lips.

Steph’s penis strained against the confines of her cotton panties.

Blake had placed a hand on Steph’s delicate head, and she bobbed up and down along his shaft, sheathing and unsheathing his Excalibur. Her technique was getting better, and it wasn’t long until she drank his sacred honey milk.

She made sure not to lose a single drop as Blake filled her throat with his white purity.

Basking in the afterglow, Blake had to catch his breath. His legs squirmed as Staph slid her lips off his penis, leaving it glistening clean.

“Now get dressed before you’re late again.” Steph winked at her friend before leaving to clock in.