6

It wasn’t until my boss shoved me against the cold white plaster of the office backroom and began to run her fingers up and down the contours of my hungry snatch that I asked myself: How did I get here?

I looked down. Pressed against her breasts were my own giant breasts. She had so thoroughly pulled at my low-cut shirt during the foreplay that my pert pink nipples were peeking out. Was that right? Was I supposed to have breasts at all, nevermind ones this huge?

“You like that, don’t you?” she said aggressively, long blonde braids flapping against her pale white shoulders as she pumped her fingers in and out of me. “You dumb little whore.”

Dumb - hey, that’s right. Those pills had done that to me, hadn’t they? Maybe they were wearing off. Still, my memory was feeling fuzzy and an animalistic need blocked all but the most basic of ideas from forming in my mind. And yet, I still wondered. How did I get here?

“Cum for me you little slut. You fucking bimbo,” she whispered, as I could feel a familiar heat rising up from deep within my legs.

Bimbo? That’s right. Yeah, I remember now . . .

—-

2

“How long does it last?”

“It’s only temporary, I can assure you,” said the Doctor, folding her hands over her lap with a perfectly practiced confidence.

“I think I’ve heard all I need. I want to try it,” I said, growing more and more excited.

“But it’s so expensive, Lyle,” said Bree. “Are you sure? This is a lot to take in. I’m not sure I’m even okay with it.”

“It’ll be fine, trust me,” I said. “With the kind of money I’ll be making after I graduate, this is nothing to worry about.”

“Well then,” said the Doctor, “follow me.”

—

7

I was laid over the desk of my Fluid Dynamics professor, tits jiggling as he pumped in and out of my cunt from behind. He was maybe 50, clean cut and almost handsome if not for the years of wrinkles that teaching had added to his forehead.

For some reason, it was always this moment that I became conscious again. Right before the peak of pleasure. One on hand, it was amazing. But on the other, it always took me out of the illusion.

“Add some numbers for me,” he grunted. “2 plus 4. What does that make?”

The symbols ping-ponged around in my brain, to no avail. “Uh, seven?” I guessed.

“You’re so stupid,” he grunted, pushing my head into the desk. It felt amazing, if demoralizing. It felt amazing because it was demoralizing, rather.

“You’re not passing the class, for the record,” he said. “Probably not graduating, either. Pity. You were so close. Heard you got a good job secured and everything.”

I could feel in the remnants of my thinking brain that this should alarm me, but in the moment, the absolute degradation only heightened the pleasure.

“You get a D,” he said, chuckling, and pushing into me one final time, extra hard. “I know it doesn’t work here because you have a 26 average in my class right now, but still. I always wanted to say that to a student.”

I wasn’t laughing.

—-

1

“Call me a femboy,” I said to my girlfriend, Bree, mounted on top of me.

She grabbed a piece of her ebony black hair and tucked it behind her ear, revealing a confused frown. I was mostly fixated on her boobs, creamy brown and soft, and the fold of her stomach, tight and tiny.

“Uh, you’re my little femboy,” she said. I was wearing one of her dresses, a white floral strapped sundress, and as she said this she pulled down one of the straps from my left shoulder, letting it fall with a light flap onto the bed.

“How does that feel?” she said.

“Hot. This is hot,” I said. “Keep going.”

“I don’t know, Lyle. This is a little weird.”

“Can you rub my boobs?” I said.

She pulled down the other dress strap to reveal an oversized black bra, with nothing filling it besides air and my curly little chest hairs. She rubbed my “boobs,” which was mostly just running her fingers over my flat chest and tiny nipples.

“I thought I’d be more into this, but it’s not doing much for me,” she said. “Are you gay or something?”

“No,” I scoffed. She sat back on the bed, prompting me to sit up and lean against the wall. “You’re a girl, I’m a guy. How is that gay? This is just a fetish,” I said, matter of fact. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I worry sometimes,” she said.

After a moment of silence, I stood up from the bed and began taking off the dress. “It’s okay. We can just have sex like normal. I just wanted to try it.”

She sighed. “I have a quiz tomorrow to study for.”

“What? C’mom baby, don’t -“

She was already collecting the dress from the floor and putting her bra back on.

“What did I do? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t. I must just not be in the mood today. See you.”

Before I could say anything she had left my dorm, door swinging closed with a light click.

—-

5

“I don’t know if we can do this anymore,” Bree said, blanket wrapped around her naked torso like a dress.

I just stared at her. We were both lying on her bed, beside one another. My post-orgasm brain was still swimming in pleasure, blissfully unaware of the world around me.

“I want my boyfriend back,” she said.

“What? I am your boyfriend.”

“No,” she said, reaching out a hand and cupping one of my giant tits. “No you’re not, Lyle. You’re whoever this bimbo is. This is becoming too much.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, scratching my thigh, still wet with cum and sweat. Only minutes ago, Bree had been on me, riding me hard with strap-on, moaning. I was confused.

“Of course you don’t understand,” she said. “You’re still stupid from those fucking pills.”

I looked over at the bottle of the brain-drain pills on my desk. There were still plenty left. My head was beginning to ache with understanding, so maybe it was about time to take another and plunge back into the delight of raw lust. Switch off my brain and have a good time. My room was in total disarray. Hair products, dirty clothes, remnants of food, and other filth lined the floor. But I didn’t care. I greedily reached for the bottle, but Bree grabbed my hand.

“Look at me. I can’t even have a conversation with you anymore because you’re either on the pills or coming out of the fog of them. It’s been fun playing lesbian with you, but I need more than sex for a relationship.”

Her words were gliding over me, barely registered in my cum-soaked brain.

I didn’t say anything.

“Ugh, it’s like talking to a rock,” she said, letting go of my hand and standing up from the bed. “A rock with tits.”

“Hehe, boobs,” I giggled out.

She looked at me with disgust. “It’s over, Lyle.”

In my mind, I couldn’t process what she meant. Yes, of course the sex was over, I thought. So when can we start it again?

—-

8

It was raining out. I ducked under a store awning from the street and sat there, shivering and trying to warm myself up by rubbing my hands together. When that didn’t work, I started cupping my tits and rubbing my nipples, and the warmth from the pleasure helped a bit.

“Poor thing,” said a middle-aged woman, crossing by me on the street. She stood there under her umbrella, inspecting me with curious eyes. “You’re soaking wet and got a crazed look in your eye. Are you on drugs? You got a place to stay?”

I shook my head.

“No friends? Family? School? Work?”

I shook my head again. What had happened to all of them? I struggled to remember. My mind was full of fog, but it was beginning to clear a little bit.

Aw shit. I didn’t want to have to think again. I instinctively reached for the bottle of pills in my pocket and opened it up, hungry for more forgetting. But when I shook the bottle, there wasn’t a single pill left.

That’s right, the painful thoughts told me as they came rushing into my head. I could already feel my breasts beginning to shrink.

Friends? No. Never had em. Family? Hadn’t talked to them in weeks, since I lost my phone somewhere and was too stupid to find it again. School? I was kicked off campus when I couldn’t provide an ID after the campus police found me sucking off some jock in the middle of the quad. Work? The boss fired me after she realized that, despite my skill at eating her out, I was dumb as a brick when it came time to actually *do* something.

“No,” I said to the lady. “Nothing.”

She looked left, then right, down the street. “Well, nobody else coming for you,” she said, then she crouched down to my eye level and reached out a hand. “Come with me.”

—-

9

I awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon.

I bolted up in bed and looked around me. Four white walls, shag carpet, and a wide window beside the bed with two huge white cloth curtains.

I looked down at myself and touched my chest. Nothing, just the old familiar flatness and sparse curly chest hairs. I reached a hand down my underwear and felt around. Yup, there was my dick. Shit.

Feeling myself as myself again was strange. It was . . . uncomfortable. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to be her again, to stop thinking, to let my brain run into goo and just feel. I pulled apart the sheets and searched my pants, tossed in the corner of the room, for the pills.

When I did find the empty pill bottle, my stomach sank. A wave of fear and sadness hit me. Fear, sadness, and longing.

I stood up and pulled back the curtains, revealing a thick red brick wall just beyond the window. So much for a view.

How did I get here?

After putting my clothes back on, I peeked my head out the door and saw what looked to be a combined kitchen and living room, with a middle-aged woman with long black dreadlocks flipping pancakes by the stove. The whole place looked old, in fact; dusty old curtains, stained floor, kitchenware from the 70’s.

“Excuse me,” I said, “Where am I?”

When she saw me, she did a double take. “Who are you? How’d you get in there?”

“Name’s Lyle. And not sure. That’s why I’m asking.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “There was a young lady who I put in there last night. What did you do with her?”

“That’s me,” I said sheepishly, holding my arm. “It’s complicated.”

She considered me for another moment, then shrugged. “She had much bigger tits than you, but whatever you say. Here, eat up,” she said, reaching over the kitchen counter and sliding a plate of food down the table towards me.

I sat down and grabbed the fork delicately balanced atop the pile of eggs. “You didn’t answer me before. Where am I?”

“Halfway house,” she grunted, coming over to sit down across from me with a plate of her own. "Name's Tamisha, by the way. Thanks for asking." She wore a pair of faded blue suspenders over a pressed white shirt and big black boots; a workman’s outfit.

“Halfway house? But I’m not a -“

“Save it,” she said. “I found you on the street in a storm rubbing your nipples. House is here for those who need it, and clearly you need it.”

—-

4

“What is it you like about it so much?” said Bree as I gulped down some of the pills. We were in her dorm, and she was taking off her clothes.

“The release, I guess. Not having to think about things. Just being able to feel.”

“What is it you don’t want to think about?”

I stared at her, her lips pursed and eyes betraying a genuine curiosity. As I did, I could feel my insides begin to shift, hips already widening, breast buds beginning to grow, hair lengthening, cock shriveling up.

I couldn’t answer her. “I can’t say. It just feels good to be her, okay? She’s sexy.” On the last syllable of “sexy,” I heard my voice trend up an octave.

“So it feels good to be a woman?”

“No. To be her. I don’t wanna - it doesn’t mean anything,” I repeated. I found myself saying this to Bree often. “Things don’t have to mean things.” As I said this, my cock plunged into my body, delivering pure pleasure, and the familiar, comfortable fog began drifting into my mind.

“But sometimes they do. Right Lyle? Sometimes they do.”

—-

12

Tamisha’s face was only inches from mine, and I could feel her delicate breathing as she laid a hand over my bare cheek.

I was terrified. This time, I knew everything that was happening. Not a drop of fog, everything clear as crystal - her big brown eyes, her slender nose, the thick ropes of her hair. I was excited, excited beyond belief, but also scared, like I was virgin again. In a way, I was.

“You’re beautiful,” she said to me, running her hand through my hair. I blushed.

“No, I’m not,” I said.

“Bullshit. You’re gorgeous. You’ve had to fight for it, and that only makes you more beautiful,” she said.

It felt amazing to hear her say that. “You’re a beautiful woman,” she repeated. My heart was about to leap out of my chest.

She kissed me. Her lipstick tasted like strawberries. Then, she laid one of her rough palms over my breast. I was embarrassed of my breasts. They were tiny, sensitive, needed a lot of attention. But these ones were really mine, and when she softly rubbed them, I closed my eyes and just let myself feel.

I couldn’t understand why she was attracted to me. In my mind, I barely counted as a woman. But her touch was revelatory. It made me feel like I mattered. Like I counted for something. Like all of this meant something.

—

11

I held the pills in my hand. No, not the old pills - new ones. Tiny and blue and full of hope. A frantic, excited energy coursed through my body.

I gulped them down with a glass of water. Nothing happened. No brain fog, no breasts bursting out, no dramatic change. And, believe it or not, it felt good. It felt good to do something real, to be honest with myself.

One down, many to go. Today might as well have been the first day of my life.

—

10

“What was it you liked about the pills so much?” said my therapist, a middle aged white woman with a short cropped haircut and a string of pearls laid across her neck.

“My ex girlfriend would always ask me that,” I said. “I couldn’t answer her well. I don’t know.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Tell me about the first time,” she said.

—

3

The door to the room said “BRAIN POWER CLINIC, ACTIVITY ROOM 4.”

“Activity room,” Bree chuckled. “Real subtle.”

The room was sparse. Just an inconspicuous queen bed, a nightstand, and a cup of water. No windows, just a fluorescent light faintly glowing overhead. Total privacy.

We both sat down on the bed, and Bree laid her hand over mine. “I’m going to give it a shot, this time. For you. But I don’t know if I’ll like it.”

I kissed her. “You’ll like it.”

Bree had opted not to take anything herself, so it was just me. I looked at the tiny red and white capsules in my hand. The red one, the doctor said, for the brain. And the white one for the body. Fast-acting, newer formula, she said. I tossed them back with a splash of water and felt them slide down my throat, excitement building.

“So. Do you feel anything?”

There was a faint rumbling in my stomach. “Maybe,” I said. Then, I sneezed. Then again, and again.

“Your hair!” said Bree. “It’s longer.”

“Really?” I reached up to my shoulder and touched it. Pulling it in front of my eyes, I watched as it slowly changed colors, from brown to fiery red. As I held it, it grew longer and longer.

That wasn’t the only thing that was happening either. With a loud crack, I felt my hips begin to expand. Out and out they pushed, fat from my body rushing to my hips and ass to reconfigure me into someone much more fun.

I moaned as I felt a little push beneath my nipples. “Fuck, it’s happening,” I grunted out. Bree had a hungry, fascinated look on her face. Now that, I wasn’t expecting.

“I wanna see,” she said.

She helped me tear my shirt off, and lo and behold, there were little breast buds, slowly growing. “Wow, that’s hot,” she whispered, placing a hand underneath the little curve of my blossoming breasts.

I grinned. I opened my mouth to say something, but suddenly couldn’t remember the word. “Yeah,” I grunted. “I think my brain, uh - it’s um, it’s happening.”

Bree was fixated on my tits. “Good,” she said. She moved her hand down to my thigh, pulling off my jeans and watching as my thighs gained in fat, becoming rounder and softer.

“Looks like the little mister’s struggling,” she said. I looked down at my cock, wiggling back and forth, rock hard, as the rest of me feminized around it. “Can’t wait to meet the misses.”

I looked at Bree, feeling a hunger growing in me as the texture of my brain began to smooth out. I tried thinking of what I was studying - chemical engineering - but things suddenly felt fuzzy. Like I could see their shadows, only their outlines. It was alarming. But it also felt really, really good.

“You must be getting dumber too,” she teased me, sticking out her tongue playfully. “Who was the first president of the U.S.?”

As she asked, the information flew to the forefront of my brain, but it was like I was seeing it through a thick fog. “Um,” I faltered. The only things I could focus on were my breasts bouncing as I panted and my waist shrinking.

“Oh my god, you don’t know. You’re sooo stupid now. Holy shit. Fuck, I’m getting wet,” she said, twitching. I could smell the familiar scent of her vagina gearing up.

With another push my hair burst out of my head, flowing down, down, and down until it reached my butt. My breasts were growing nice and large, and my whole body had slimmed down - nose, eyes, toes, legs, neck. It felt incredible.

“Fuck, okay, I’m into this. You were right, it’s hot,” she said, unbuttoning her pants and grabbing me by the thighs. “I know I said I was bisexual and hadn’t gotten a chance to explore women, but I didn’t realize I’d be this excited.”

I just grunted, almost losing the capacity for language.

“Oh, you don’t even understand me,” Bree moaned, cupping my wide, womanly hips. “You’re a fucking bimbo already. I bet all you can think about is sex. Sex, sex, sex. Want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, as she began kissing my neck. Meanwhile, I felt my dick in it’s final throes. With a loud slurp, it pulled into me. My balls unfolded and began melting into labia, my new sex already hot and wet with anticipation.

“Wow, you have your own pussy now,” Bree whispered. “Bye bye to the big strong man. You’re just a stupid little girl, and I’m the one in control.”

That was almost too much. My vagina twitched with need. My boobs were ballooning even bigger. “Say it again,” I moaned.

“Stupid little girl.”

“Girl,” I moaned. Girl, girl, girl. The word felt like a beautiful, shiny little gem, and my idiot mind had fixated on it. It felt good to be called a girl. It felt good to be dumb. Fuck, I was dumb. I didn’t have to worry at all. Didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to think about who I was or what I wanted.

---

14

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I yelled, Tamisha’s tongue sliding up and down my cunt.

I looked down at her. Her face was buried in my pussy, lapping up my juices and teasing my clit. Then, for just a brief moment, she looked up, and our eyes met, and I saw the fierce hunger in her eye.

And then, she stopped. I whined at her. “Keep going,” I said.

“I’m in charge here,” she said playfully, walking over to a drawer and pulling out a big, pink collar with a little heart-shaped metal ring inlaid into it.

I marveled at it. So shiny, so alluring. “It’s for your birthday,” she said, laying it by me on the bed. “I know you miss the old pills, but there are other ways to be submissive,” she said.

I was almost going to cry. “I love you."

“I’ll finish you off after you do something for me,” she said, stroking my hair.

While Tamisha held the collar in her hands, I presented my neck. I was already sweating with anticipation.

“I want you to know - you don’t have to wear it,” she said.

I thought for a moment. Flashes of the past flew by my eye, the pills controlling me, the fog, the self-hate, the dysphoria. But that was the past. Now, I was in control. I was a woman, and no one could take that from me. I could choose.

“No, I want to,” I said.

She smiled, and clasped it around my neck. I felt like a pet, like Tamisha owned me. My cheeks flushed so red that I was sure I looked like an apple. It was so degrading, and so hot. And I chose it, not as an escape, but as the truth.

“You look so sexy with it. Glad you like it,” she smiled.

“I do love it,” I said. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“Now where were we?” Tamisha said.

She laid back on the bed and I perched at the foot on my hands and knees, feeling the cold, restrictive metal of the collar snug around my neck.

I kissed her thighs and rubbed them with my hands, feeling the experienced roughness of her skin. It was a pleasant feeling, knowing that my lover had been through so much as well. I preferred this to the smooth, the bland, the featureless and mute. I loved the texture, the history, the richness of the way her legs tasted, the little hairs of her vagina and the way she twitched when I ran my tongue delicately along her labia.

With the tip of my tongue I softly rubbed her clit. “I’m so gay for you,” she moaned. “I’m so glad you’re my woman.”

Euphoria flooded my brain. Yes, I was her woman, and I would eat her out any day of the week. It felt so good to be me and to be hers, too. My nipples were rock hard, and just making her feel good was driving me crazy. I was dripping onto the bed already as I pushed my tongue deeper and deeper into her.

Soon, after much anticipation, I picked up the pace, licking faster, harder, in and out, all around, up and down, wanting to taste every inch of her. She weakly moaned that she was about to cum. As I flicked her clit one last time, I felt a rush of delicious cum seep out, gulping down as much of it as I could for my girl. At the same time my back twinged while my own pussy pulsed, loudly squirting out my own flood of cum as the collar tightly constricted my breathing. My brain went haywire, wave after wave of pure pleasure and bliss pushing out everywhere on my body, like I was a bomb about to explode. Then, all at once, I collapsed, laying my head on Tamisha’s stomach while she sat up and probed around in my vagina. I felt myself squirt again and again as she did, and the two of us wheeled around in a lightning fast, sweaty, ecstatic ouroboros of joy.

---

13

I spotted her right away. Tamisha and I had come to a bar to hang out, and across the room there she was - Bree. She wearing a slinky red dress and had her hand draped around the shoulder of another woman.

Almost as soon as I saw her, she saw me. Her eyes grew wide, and then confused. Moments later, she left her arm candy behind and came over to talk to us.

“Lyle?” she said, taking a seat beside me. Tamisha was on my opposite side.

I winced. “It’s actually Lyla now,” I said.

She was taken aback. “Wait, so you mean that you -”

“Mhmm,” I nodded. “Yup. I’m a girl now. All the time. And the lights are on in here,” I said, tapping at my head.

“Who this?” said Tamisha. “You going to introduce me?”

I leaned back in my stool to give them a clear view of each other. “Tamisha, this is my ex girlfriend, from before I transitioned, Bree. Bree, this is my girlfriend, Tamisha.”

Bree offered a friendly hand. Tamisha shook it. “Nice to meet you,” Tamisha said.

“You look great,” said Bree, eyeing me up and down. I was wearing long black jeans and a red crop-top that revealed just a little hint of belly button.

“Hey, watch it,” said Tamisha, and we all chuckled. “She’s my girl, you know.” We all took it in good humor.

“My boo Erica is actually right over there,” said Bree, pointing. “By the way, I have to thank you, actually, Lyla.”

“I’ll let you two catch up,” said Tamisha, taking out a cigarette and getting up from the bar. “Back in five.”

With Tamisha gone, it was just the two of us sitting there, each enjoying the company.

“Thank me for what?” I said.

“Not to bring up old injuries,” she said, “but do you remember when I said I wanted my boyfriend back?”

I blinked. “No. Sorry, I don’t remember much from then.”

“Of course, of course. Silly me. Well, my point is, I’ve realized since that I didn’t really want my boyfriend back. I was lying to myself.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I didn’t want my boyfriend back. What I wanted . . . was for my girlfriend to be honest with me about who she was. It’s cause of you Lyla that I started dating other women.”

“That means a lot to me,” I said, after a moment of thought. “I’m sorry that I -”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “You can’t fix the past. All you can do is live the future. And it looks like your future is pretty bright,” she said, holding up her drink. We clinked glasses. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah, I’m crazy about her,” I said. “She helped me get on hormones, pulled me out of things - all that.”

“That’s great!” Bree said. “Maybe you and Tamisha and Erica and I can go on a double date sometime.”

“That’d be a blast, as long as our girlfriends won’t be jealous to have both of us in the same room, hahaha.” We both giggled.

“What are you up to now that you’ve gotten through the worst of it?” she asked.

“Well, I’m working as a waitress right now. It’s been a few years, but I think I’m finally ready to go back to school soon - going to finish my degree. Get things back on track again. But this time, as the real me.”

Bree smiled. “That’s the smart thing to do,” she said.

“The smart thing to do,” I repeated. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

END