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  28. This book is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious
  29. and any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidence.
  30. Published By Honey Wagon Books
  31. Copyright © 2015 by Nikki Crescent
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  42. BUNDLE:
  44. T-GIRL
  74. Begin Reading
  75. Table of Contents
  76. Newsletter
  77. Copyright
  78. About the Author
  80. To all of my readers
  81. You have made everything possible
  82. Thank you.
  84. Tanner made a bad deal with the wrong people. Now, he’s in a lot of debt.
  85. $90,000 of debt, to be specific. And he doesn’t have long to make it up. He’s
  86. screwed.
  87. But there’s a glimmer of hope. After a chance conversation with a
  88. prostitute in a bar, Tanner learns there is one way to make big money in a
  89. short period of time. Apparently, certain people will pay a lot of money to
  90. sleep with a tranny prostitute.
  91. And Tanner is desperate, willing to try anything. Even if it means getting
  92. a bit of work done and taking a few in the backdoor.
  94. I was in some serious debt. And I’m not talking about student loans or
  95. mortgage debt or overdue car payments. I owed some mean people a lot of
  96. money. It was my own fault; I knew the risk I was taking when I borrowed the
  97. $90,000. I knew I was making a deal with the mafia. I knew I would end up at
  98. the bottom of the river with cement blocks tied to my feet if I didn’t pay them
  99. back. But I’d never been so confident about anything in my whole life. I had
  100. an insider—he told me the stock would double overnight. He said it was a
  101. sure thing.
  102. It wasn’t a sure thing. In four days, I lost $80,000. I took the last of my
  103. money out before it was a total loss. I had one week to pay it all back. I
  104. thought about taking it to the casino, putting it all on black. I just needed it to
  105. land on black three times in a row and I’d basically be back even. I could sell
  106. my car and empty my life savings for the last ten grand.
  107. I even walked into the casino with the last of my cash in a bag. But I
  108. stopped myself. There is about a 12% chance of landing black three times in a
  109. row. That’s an 88% chance of having some goomba curb stomp my face into
  110. the pavement. I’d never been a lucky person, and I’d taken enough risks over
  111. the past week.
  112. I thought about running, leaving town. But where could I go? I knew they
  113. would find me. It was 2016, after all. They had connections with the internet
  114. companies, the IRS, even the FBI. I wouldn’t last ten minutes.
  115. I had one week.
  116. Seven days. Five business days—as if that made any difference.
  117. From my apartment window, I could see three things: the corner where the
  118. prostitutes stood waiting for work, the bar where the prostitutes hung out
  119. between jobs, and the casino where the drunks hung out, trying to make
  120. enough money to pay for the prostitutes. I didn’t exactly live in a high end
  121. part of town.
  122. I didn’t have cable, so watching the whores was my only source of free
  123. entertainment. There was one girl who only stood out about once a week—a
  124. real bombshell. I always wondered why did it—with a body and a face like
  125. that, she could have been a model, or a movie star. Her legs—my God, her
  126. legs. I’d never paid for sex before, but if I was going to, she would be the one.
  127. There was no chance in hell I could afford her. Men constantly pulled up
  128. to her and then drove away empty-handed. She only ever hopped into the
  129. nicest cars—the Lamborghinis, the Ferraris, the Rolls Royces. Basically, if the
  130. car wasn’t worth at least a quarter-million, she wasn’t getting in. She probably
  131. made some alright coin.
  132. Hell, even the less-attractive ladies got picked up by wealthy-enough
  133. looking men.
  134. Whenever I watched the ladies stand out on that corner, I would always
  135. see at least a couple of men stopped at red lights, shaking their heads as if
  136. they were above the sex trade. Pricks. If I had a pair of tits on my chest and a
  137. pussy between my legs, I would be down there, too.
  138. I went down to get a drink at the bar. One of the girls sat down next to me.
  139. “What’s your name?” she asked.
  140. “Tanner,” I told her.
  141. “Looking for a date, Tanner?” she asked.
  142. I smiled and apologized. “You’re very beautiful, but I’m still trying to
  143. figure out how I’m going to pay for this drink.” She wasn’t exactly beautiful,
  144. but she was a nice enough lady. “How’s about a rain check?”
  145. “Don’t sweat it, darling,” she said, and then she paid for my drink. She
  146. looked around to make sure no one was looking, then she reached down my
  147. pants, grabbed my cock and gave it a quick massage. Hell, she knew how to
  148. work those fingers. It wasn’t even a ten second ordeal and I nearly came in
  149. the palm of her hand. “Five hundred and you can stick it anywhere you’d
  150. like,” she said as she stood up.
  151. Jesus Christ, I thought. Five hundred bucks? If she cost five hundred,
  152. what did the beauty on the street corner go for? “If you don’t mind my asking,
  153. how much do you make in a night?” I asked.
  154. “I don’t mind, sweetie. If I’m busy? Maybe three or four grand, plus tips.
  155. One night I went home with twelve stuffed in my purse.”
  156. “Twelve thousand?” I didn’t know whether or not to believe her. On a
  157. scale from one to ten, she wasn’t even a solid five. Maybe a three. She was
  158. kind of chubby, her eyes were kind of sunken, and her legs were kind of short.
  159. She also had a smell that reminded me of my late-grandmother’s retirement
  160. home.
  161. “Yeah, but I had two guys share the same backdoor that night. As far as
  162. I’m concerned, it was money well earned.”
  163. “You can fit two back there?”
  164. “Let’s just say their wallets were bigger than their cocks.”
  165. “Twelve thousand is a lot of money.” I couldn’t even imagine making that
  166. kind of money in a single night. I hardly made that money in a whole year.
  167. “Some girls make that every night—I’m not even kidding. I’m a low
  168. earner. A few of the girls make that every job. Hell, even the trannies make
  169. more than me—but to be fair, that’s a niche market.”
  170. “A niche market?”
  171. “A few clients paying a lot of money. And I mean, a lot of money. They’re
  172. into some weird stuff though. I did a job with a tranny friend of them once.
  173. The guy wanted to watch my friend fuck me in the ass. Money was good, but
  174. I don’t think I would do that again.”
  175. “Why not?” I asked.
  176. “I don’t know. I got a weird vibe from it. After I was done, the client kept
  177. the tranny around for himself. She finally came out a few hours later with a
  178. hell of a lot more money than I made. I can only image what he had her
  179. doing.”
  180. I was strangely fascinated. “What did he have her doing, do you think?”
  181. “I don’t know, but my tranny friend took a few days off after that night.
  182. She wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
  183. I loved how open the whore was about her career choice. The bartender
  184. came around and asked if I wanted another drink. I dug into my pockets and
  185. started to count my change. I only needed two dollars, but I was about fifty
  186. cents short. My new whore friends slapped down a five. “It’s on me,” she
  187. said, and then she gave me a smile that was full of pity. Then she asked me to
  188. follow her to the bathroom and she gave me a pity blowjob.
  189. She was a pro. She pumped my dick with a ferocious elegance, and she
  190. sucked it like she wanted it. She managed to get my cock halfway down her
  191. throat without even the slightest gag. “Where do you want to come, baby?”
  192. she asked me.
  193. “Where can I come?”
  194. “Anywhere but the face. Are my tits okay?” She didn’t stop beating me
  195. off while she talked to me. There was something extremely arousing about
  196. that. “Or you can come on my ass. Your choice.”
  197. “I’ll take the tits.”
  198. Then, she did a little flicking motion with her tongue along the underside
  199. of my cock, and five seconds later I was blasting hot, sticky cum onto her big,
  200. fake tits. She made some orgasm sound effects which were convincing, but I
  201. knew they were fake.
  202. “I would give you a tip, but…” I felt like a cheap pile of shit. I couldn’t
  203. even look her in the eyes.
  204. “I wouldn’t be mad if you ate me out,” she said.
  205. So I did. It seemed like the least I could do. She sat down on the toilet
  206. seat, slipped off her black thong, and spread her legs. Her pussy had a natural
  207. gape to it, probably from years of constant penetration. Once my face was
  208. nestled between her plump thighs, and my nose was pressed into her pubic
  209. hair, she pulled me in with her hands and held me in place. She wasn’t letting
  210. go until I got her off. It really was the least I could do. It took about fifteen
  211. minutes, and my tongue was limp and sore by the end of it, but I got her off.
  213. I didn’t sleep that night. Instead, I just stared up at my ceiling and
  214. wondered how I was going to turn $10,000 into $90,000 in one week. The
  215. casino was my last resort, I knew I had that in my back pocket if nothing else
  216. worked out. Even if I could just make $10,000 into $45,000, I would only
  217. need to hit black once—that would increase my chance of surviving the mafia
  218. from 12% to 50%. I could play those odds.
  219. But the question was still the same. Where could I make that kind of
  220. money in what was now six days? I had no ideas, aside from various ways to
  221. gamble it. Bet what I had on a hockey game, bet it all on a horse down at the
  222. track, try to count cards down at the casino. I was awful with math—I would
  223. never make it a single round trying to count cards.
  224. I laughed—I could become a tranny prostitute. I laughed at the thought for
  225. a while and then I stopped laughing. Maybe it wasn’t the dumbest idea. I only
  226. needed to make about $9,000 each night. According to my new prostitute
  227. friend, that was doable in what she called “a niche market.”
  228. I slapped myself across the face. Don’t be an idiot, Tanner. You aren’t
  229. seriously considering getting a sex change to pay off your debts, are you? I
  230. continued to think about it. It wasn’t like I needed a full sex change—I could
  231. probably get by with a half-decent set of fake tits. I could shave my legs, wax
  232. my eyebrows, spend a couple hundred bucks on some clothes and a decent
  233. wig. I’d seen some of those tranny prostitutes my whore friend was talking
  234. about. Some of them were surprisingly beautiful, but most of them looked
  235. like dudes in drag. Even they got picked up. And hell, I’d had people tell me I
  236. made a pretty man before. I bet I could pull it off.
  237. And worse case scenario, I get the implants taken out, right?
  238. I slapped myself again, and got a drink of water. The entire notion was
  239. crazy.
  240. There was a knock at my door. There was a bluntness to the knock. A
  241. shiver ran up my spine and through the roof of my apartment. I opened the
  242. door anyway. It was an Italian-looking man in a black suit. It didn’t take me
  243. long to realize he was with the mafia. “Can I help you?” I asked.
  244. “Yeah, I’m here for the money,” he said with a bluntness to compliment
  245. his knock.
  246. “I still have six days.” I tried to close the door but he stopped it with his
  247. foot.
  248. “Well, do you have it?” he asked.
  249. “I’ll have it in six days.”
  250. “So you don’t have it.”
  251. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But I’ve got six days to pay it back.” The
  252. man gave me a sour look. Then I noticed the bulge in his coat. There was a
  253. gun there and something told me the guy knew how to use it.
  254. “I’ll have the money, man, I swear.”
  255. He stared at me in a silence for a moment before turning back towards the
  256. staircase and disappearing. I didn’t have any more time to think. Every day I
  257. spent thinking was a day wasted, potential money wasted. If I was going to
  258. survive more than the next six days, I needed money, and there was only one
  259. way I could think to make it.
  260. I called a few clinics. They all had waiting lists at least three months long.
  261. So I went online to see what I could find. I was determined. When your life is
  262. on the line, you can make anything happen. You can turn shit into solid gold
  263. if you needed to—and I needed to. I found a clinic in Venezuela. Round trip
  264. flight was $1,600. The operation was $8,000 and change. I could be there and
  265. back in two days. That would leave four days to make the money—four days
  266. to make $45,000, and a hell of a lot of luck. I left for the airport.
  267. The doctor didn’t speak a word of English, but it didn’t matter, he knew
  268. what I wanted. There were a dozen other men in the waiting room who were
  269. there for the same exact thing. I wondered how many of them were just in it
  270. for the cash, like me. They all wanted massive tits and extreme facial surgery
  271. —nose jobs, face lifts, Botox injections, and so on. They wanted to be
  272. women. I didn’t. I wanted to be a tranny, a ladyboy, a shemale. That’s where
  273. the money was—and I needed the money.
  274. I was almost a little disappointed waking up from my anaesthetic-induced
  275. slumber when I saw that the doctor did a goddamned incredible job. My tits
  276. looked like… tits. “You don’t think they look too real?” I asked the doctor. A
  277. nurse translated for me.
  278. He looked at me as if I was mentally retarded, and then gave me a shot in
  279. the arm. It was a thick needle and hurt like hell.
  280. “Ouch. What was the hell was that?” I asked.
  281. “It’s for your voice and your face hairs,” the nurse said in her thick
  282. Venezuelan accent. “New drug. Not legal in America. Should start to notice
  283. the effects in a day or two.”
  284. It was even quicker than that. As I stepped off of the plane, back on
  285. American soil, I waved at the hot little flight attendant. “See you around,” I
  286. said. I didn’t even recognize my own voice. I thought maybe I didn’t say
  287. anything, and it was someone behind me who actually spoke—but it was me,
  288. it was my voice, my new voice. Panic finally started to sink in. I was halfway
  289. to becoming a woman. I wasn’t Tanner anymore.
  290. When I stepped out from the airport, the sun was lingering on the horizon.
  291. I had four days to make that money, including today. I was tired, but I had
  292. work to do. I had money to make, and I still wasn’t ready to hit the streets. I
  293. still needed to hit up the mall. I’d never bought women’s clothes or makeup
  294. before. I needed to think like a woman. First I bought a wig. I figured,
  295. everything I’m going to buy needs to go with my hair. That’s how women
  296. think, right? The wig I got was long and strawberry blonde.
  297. Next, I needed a dress that I could wear out on the street. I went through
  298. three stores before I found the right one, a short, tight little black number that
  299. maybe looked more like lingerie than a dress. It seemed fitting. Most of the
  300. prostitutes who stood out on the street wore nothing but lingerie, even when it
  301. was freezing out. Still, I bought a little sheer white number for the bedroom. It
  302. was the sluttiest thing in the whole mall, and it made my new tits look great,
  303. though it didn’t leave much to the imagination.
  304. At the makeup store, I bought one of everything. I had no idea what any
  305. of it did, but I would figure that out later. I also got a perfume that made me
  306. hard. I figured if it could make me hard, it would make whatever John picked
  307. me up hard.
  308. Then I went home, and put it all together. I laid the mascara on thick, and
  309. same with the eye shadow. The lipstick took a few tries, and so did the
  310. eyeliner, but eventually, with the help of a few YouTube tutorials, I got it
  311. looking right. I took a step back and then froze.
  312. I wasn’t staring at Tanner. I was staring at a woman. A hot woman. A
  313. woman with a pretty face, a decent body, and a nice set of tits. I adjusted my
  314. tits and straightened out my dress. I looked too good. I was way hotter than
  315. the whore who gave me a freebie a few days earlier. Hell, I was maybe even
  316. on par with the luxury car whore.
  317. “Shit,” I muttered out loud.
  318. If it wasn’t for the cock stiffening between my legs, pushing tightly
  319. against the thin fabric of my tight dress, I would have passed for a woman.
  320. Even flaccid, my bulge was hard not to notice. Good. I needed something to
  321. let people know I was still packing heat.
  322. The sun was starting to set. It was time for me to hit the streets, to start
  323. earning some coin. I had to walk down the street a few blocks from my
  324. apartment, to the neighbourhood where the homos and trannies hung out. I
  325. needed to make sure I was targeting the right clientele. Also, I didn’t want any
  326. of my neighbours to look out and recognize me—though it was hard to care
  327. about that when my life was on the line. I stood about fifty feet down the
  328. block from another tranny whore. She kept throwing dagger-stares in my
  329. direction, as if I was killing her business—and I probably was. Seeing me
  330. next to her, no one in the right mind would have taken her. Maybe if they
  331. were on a budget.
  332. My heart was pounding relentlessly against my ribcage.
  333. Nearly an hour passed by. I asked one of the other girls for the time. “It’s
  334. ten after seven.” A few cars slowed down, and I got a handful of catcalls, but
  335. no one stopped. There was something about the catcalls that I liked, that made
  336. me feel warm inside. It was nice to know I made a hot woman, and I wasn’t
  337. just another ‘dude in drag.’
  338. Finally, a car pulled up next to me. My heart skipped a few beats and then
  339. started racing again. Despite the fact it was dark out, the driver was wearing
  340. sunglasses. I walked up and leaned into his window, like I’d seen other
  341. prostitutes doing. Then, I was silent. I didn’t know what to do next. I didn’t
  342. know the protocol. “Well?” he said.
  343. “Well what?”
  344. “You a cop?”
  345. “No way. You looking for a date?” My voice was shaken. My hands
  346. trembled. But I kept my composure.
  347. “Maybe. What are your rates?”
  348. “A thousand.”
  349. The man took a deep breath in. “Jesus, a thousand? For the whole night,
  350. maybe.”
  351. “For an hour,” I said.
  352. He was completely silent for a good ten seconds. Then, he sighed. “Okay,
  353. fine. What does that get me?”
  354. I took a moment to respond. Anxiety was overtaking my body, making me
  355. tense. I’d never been with another man before. I didn’t even know whether I
  356. could get a cock up my asshole. I had a girlfriend who would stick her finger
  357. up my ass—even that was a challenge, never mind a whole cock. “Whatever
  358. you want,” I said.
  359. “How much to just let me suck you off?” he asked. “Until you come… On
  360. my face.”
  361. I thought about it. That’s all he wanted? To suck me off? He didn’t want
  362. to stick it in my ass? He didn’t want to get off himself? “Eight hundred,” I
  363. said. Would I even be able to get off? What if he couldn’t get me off? Would
  364. he want his money back?
  365. “Alright, deal,” he said. “I know a good motel on the other end of town.”
  366. The other end of town was too far. It would be half an hour there, half an hour
  367. back. I didn’t have that kind of time to kill.
  368. “Just pull into the alley,” I said. “You can blow me in the back of your
  369. car.”
  370. He pulled into the alley, and I hopped into the backseat. Away from the
  371. safe glow of the streetlights, I became increasingly nervous. As far as I knew,
  372. this guy was a serial killer. He could have stabbed me to death and no one
  373. would have heard a thing. I was totally alone. I didn’t even have a cell phone
  374. on me. Clumsily, he crawled over me and started to kiss my neck. He was
  375. already rock hard, I could feel his cock rubbing up against my leg. “Hey
  376. man,” I said. “If you want foreplay, that’s another hundred.”
  377. He stared at me for a moment with hollow eyes, looking slightly
  378. disappointed and slightly perplexed. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said,
  379. “Okay, fine by me.” And without warning, he pulled up my dress and tugged
  380. my panties down to my knees. His eyes lit up. “Damn, darling,” he said.
  381. “Nice package.” I had an impulse to cover myself up with my hand, but I
  382. fought the impulse back. I tried to remain confident, in control.
  383. I’d never even had a woman look at my cock like that before, never mind
  384. a man. He was a horny fucker, obsessed with my body, obsessed with my
  385. dick. It was slightly disturbing, but also kind of nice. It was nice to feel
  386. appreciated, to feel sexy. He grabbed my flaccid dick and started to massage it
  387. between his fingers. He let out a long, deep groan, as if he’d been waiting a
  388. lifetime for that moment. My body tensed up. It was an awkward feeling,
  389. having my cock massaged by a strange man. He wasn’t exactly gentle,
  390. sometimes squeezing too hard, eliciting an “ouch” out of me.
  391. “Sorry,” he said, and he would be gentle for about five seconds before his
  392. testosterone regained control. I wasn’t getting hard. I was too nervous, too
  393. uncomfortable. He sunk down and slid my cock into his mouth. His mouth
  394. was warm and wet, and he was surprisingly agile with his tongue. But still, I
  395. remained limp. “C’mon, baby. I’m not paying eight hundred bucks to suck on
  396. a limp dick.”
  397. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I tried to imagine a woman
  398. between my legs, sucking my dick. It was working for a moment, until he
  399. reached up and grabbed my tit. His hands were big and strong, not at all like a
  400. woman’s hands—making it increasingly difficult to image a woman. Then, I
  401. opened my eyes and looked past the man, at my own reflection in the
  402. window. The man had my dress down over my tits. All I could see in the
  403. reflection was my smoking hot body and the man’s hand fondling my tit. The
  404. sight was strangely arousing. My cock started to harden in the stranger’s
  405. mouth.
  406. He moaned a satisfying moan. It wasn’t the first dick he’d ever sucked.
  407. He was good at it. Better than most of the women I’d ever been with. As long
  408. as I kept my eyes off of his balding head, I was able to stay hard—and the
  409. man managed to get me rock solid. He finally let go of my tit and then
  410. grabbed my balls. With his other hand, he grabbed my dick, keeping his lips
  411. locked around the tip of my member. He was working me from three angles.
  412. Shit, I thought. I should be paying him for this kind of service. I could
  413. learn a thing or two from his handiwork. Less than a minute later, I gave him
  414. the warning. “I’m going to cum,” I said.
  415. The biggest grin I’d ever seen swept across his face, and he leaned back,
  416. still beating off my dick like some Mennonite butter churn. He pointed his
  417. chin upwards and lined his face up with the tip of my cock. He was ready for
  418. it. And he got it. “Holy fuck,” I muttered as cum began to blast out from my
  419. manhood, onto his face. He moaned and groaned as if he was the one having
  420. the orgasm. He even opened his mouth and let a few shots straight in. Then,
  421. his body relaxed and he sunk back into his seat, that smirk still plastered on
  422. his face.
  423. I stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t moving. “Everything okay?” I
  424. asked.
  425. He nodded slowly. “Everything’s great.” He reached into his wallet and
  426. dug out a handful of cash.
  427. “Thanks,” I said, getting out of the car before even counting the money. I
  428. didn’t want to count it in front of him. I don’t know why, but it seemed
  429. wrong, insulting. I wanted him to enjoy his moment. I was halfway down the
  430. alley when I finally counted the money. It was more than I was expecting:
  431. $1,200. It was the most money I’d ever made in a night—and the night was
  432. only just starting.
  433. I asked one of the other whores for the time. “It’s ten to eight,” she said.
  434. $1,200 in half an hour, and I got a blowjob. Not a bad gig, I thought. But
  435. $1,200 was nowhere near $90,000. At the pace I was going, I would need to
  436. work about 75 more gigs to break even.
  437. If I was going to make up my debt in just four nights, I needed to up my
  438. game. I needed to go for the bigger clients.
  440. My second client came only thirty minutes later. I upped my rates, seeing
  441. as my last client didn’t take much convincing. I started at two thousand. He
  442. laughed and said, “Give me a break.” He came back at one thousand. “That’s
  443. more than enough, sweetheart,” he said. I considered his offer but decided to
  444. turn him down. A thousand here and a thousand there wasn’t going to get me
  445. up to ninety grand in a few days. I needed bigger. Even two grand didn’t seem
  446. big enough, but it seemed slightly more feasible.
  447. “Sorry, it’s two thousand or nothing.”
  448. He shook his head, drove away, and then pulled back up ten minutes later.
  449. “Okay fine,” he said. “But I get to come wherever I want and I don’t want to
  450. hear you bitching about it later.” I didn’t mind my first client. He was nice
  451. enough, kind of a pushover. This guy was different. He was mean. He was an
  452. asshole. Unlike my first client, he didn’t seem to get much joy out of the
  453. experience. If anything, he acted as if it was a chore, a setback. I didn’t care—
  454. it was his money. If he wanted to sulk around and grumble under his breath,
  455. that was up to him.
  456. He pulled his car into the exact same spot as my first client. “Okay, what
  457. do you want?” I asked. He thought for a moment with a grumpy look on his
  458. face. I noticed the glimmer of his wedding band as he scratched at the stubble
  459. on his cheek. Lucky lady, I thought.
  460. “I want a blowjob. And…” He thought for another moment. “What kind
  461. of toys do you have?”
  462. I didn’t have any, so I just shook my head and shrugged. He grumbled
  463. some profanities under his breath. “Okay, fine. I want you to stick your
  464. fingers up my ass while you suck my cock. Got it?” His face became a shade
  465. of red as he waited for a reply. I tried my best not to cringe at the idea of
  466. sticking my fingers up the man’s asshole, but I didn’t do a great job. His face
  467. became a shade of crimson and then he looked away sharply. “And maybe I
  468. want to stick my fingers in your ass. I haven’t decided yet. Can I play with
  469. your dick?”
  470. “Sure.”
  471. That’s where we started. Him carefully pulling down my panties and
  472. fondling my cock. He still had that grumpy look on his face. “You’ve got a
  473. big cock for a tranny. I like that,” he said. But that permanent frown remained
  474. on his face. “Can I lick it?”
  475. “Sure.”
  476. He wasn’t nearly as skilled as my previous date. He was a noisy sucker,
  477. slurping and puckering constantly. He only managed to get me half-hard, and
  478. I had to close my eyes for most of it. “Okay, now suck mine,” he said, wiping
  479. the spit from his face. He whipped down his pants and the biggest fucking
  480. cock I’d ever seen in my life sprang out. The thing looked like it belonged on
  481. the National Geographic Channel. Even the veins were unusually thick,
  482. visibly throbbing. He wasn’t even fully hard yet. “C’mon, bitch. Suck it. I
  483. don’t have all night. My wife’s going to start calling soon. She thinks I’m out
  484. getting smokes.”
  485. I took the massive beast in my hand. It was heavy—like a third arm. I
  486. tried to curl my fingers around it, but they wouldn’t reach. The thing was just
  487. too big, made of cement or something. “I can’t get this in my mouth.”
  488. “Don’t give me that shit. I’ve had tinier whores than you take in the whole
  489. thing. Now let’s go. Suck me off.”
  490. I brought his meat to my lips and opened wide. It just wasn’t possible, not
  491. without some sort of mouth enlargement surgery. But I needed the money, so I
  492. gave it a shot, started stuffing the thing in. I managed to get the tip in, and
  493. then, with my lips stretched as thin as they would go, I got another inch in.
  494. Beyond that, the thing was too big.
  495. His body relaxed somewhat and he let out a long, deep moan. I was doing
  496. something right. I had to use my hand to satisfy the other nine inches of his
  497. cock. It was the first dick I ever sucked. It was the first dick, my own aside,
  498. that I’d ever touched. I kind of liked it—it made me feel in control. His body
  499. responded to every movement I made. Every swift stroke made him relax
  500. back. Every flick of the tongue made his legs constrict tighter around my
  501. body. When I finally got my hand around him, and a finger up his asshole, I
  502. was completely in control. I was like a puppet master. He was like my pet.
  503. I could feel his veins throbbing against my lips. The throbbing became
  504. faster and faster, and somehow, the massive cock in my mouth started to get
  505. thicker, longer. The man reached down and grabbed my head firmly with both
  506. of his hands. Then, he started to thrust himself into my mouth, sinking his
  507. cock in deep, stretching my mouth wider than Mother Nature intended it to be
  508. stretched. He was about to come. I tried to pull his dick out, but he was
  509. locked. He let out a long, deep groan, and then I felt it—warm cum splashing
  510. against the back of my throat. I couldn’t breathe. His load never ended. Shot
  511. after shot. I was going to drown in cum.
  512. With all of my force, I pushed him back. His dick was still firing off
  513. rounds when he hit the car door, all over his lap and his car seat. Even in all of
  514. the porn I’d seen in my life, I’d never seen a man come that much. I leaned
  515. over and spat out what he’d unloaded in my mouth. It was a lot.
  516. “What the fuck?” the man shouted as he sat up and tried to wipe the cum
  517. off of his shirt.
  518. “You said on my tits, asshole. You never said in my mouth.”
  519. “I changed my mind. I think for two grand, I should get to change my
  520. mind if I want to! This shirt is ruined. What am I going to tell my wife?”
  521. “Why don’t you tell her you were cheating on her? Face-fucking a tranny
  522. whore in an alleyway?” I said.
  523. The colour drained from his face and he became silent. After a moment of
  524. stillness, he reached into his wallet and passed me a handful of cash. He
  525. opened the door for me and said nothing as I left. I counted the money in front
  526. of him. Fuck him. He didn’t leave me a tip anyway. I was up to $3,200 for the
  527. night. Still nowhere close to what I needed.
  528. And I was exhausted.
  529. My third client ended up being the last of the night. Like my first, all he
  530. wanted to do was suck my dick. Apparently everyone just wanted to suck a
  531. tranny’s dick. He insisted on a motel, so we went to one that was just down
  532. the street. I fell asleep before I came. I woke up with the sun blaring in
  533. through the window the next morning. He was gone, but he left me a good
  534. chunk of change—$2,500, $500 more than quoted. He also left a pool of dried
  535. cum between my tits.
  536. I took a long, hot shower and thought about what I was going to do. I’d
  537. made $5,700 in one night. Not bad for one night, but I only had three more
  538. nights to make a hell of a lot more and I hadn’t even broken even on my
  539. $10,000 investment yet.
  541. My second night on the street wasn’t much different than my first. Lots of
  542. guys wanted to suck my dick, lots of guys wanted me to suck their dick. One
  543. guy wanted to fuck my tits, which was the easiest $1,500 I’d ever made. I just
  544. sat there holding my tits together while he slid his cock up and down and
  545. eventually came all over my chin. Whatever—it was his money.
  546. I had my first ass fucking. It hurt like hell at first, but it was easy money.
  547. He leaned me over the bed and stuck it in. He wasn’t huge, so it wasn’t so
  548. bad. But by the end of it, my ass was terribly sore from him slapping it.
  549. Goddamn, did he slap the hell out of my ass—and he was a strong guy, too.
  550. He wore a condom, and he was a nice enough man—pretty hot, too. He
  551. looked like he was maybe in the military or something, like he hit the gym
  552. twice a day. Good hygiene. I couldn’t complain. He opened doors for me,
  553. bought me drinks, always asked before doing anything. And he paid three
  554. grand for what ended up being less than thirty minutes of work. Funny
  555. enough, he came back an hour later, picked me up again, and had me fuck
  556. him in the ass. Another three grand. Where the guy got that kind of money,
  557. I’ll never know—I wanted to ask, but I thought that would be rude. He asked
  558. me to jerk him off while I slammed his asshole, so I did. I hardly thrust
  559. myself into him five times before he came all over his own chest. And it felt
  560. good, pushing my dick between those muscular butt cheeks, holding onto his
  561. toned sides. I ended up coming on his cock, which he seemed to like quite a
  562. bit. He tipped me an extra five hundred and drove me back to my corner.
  563. Thanks to a full night’s sleep, I had more energy that night. I was able to
  564. handle way more clients, but I was still nowhere near making the kind of
  565. money I needed. At the end of the night, I counted everything I had from both
  566. nights. $18,000. Not bad, but not enough.
  567. My first client on my third night was a woman, which I thought was
  568. strange. She was an older woman, maybe in her fifties. She was kind of hot
  569. for an older lady, big tits, fit body. All she wanted was to hold my tits while I
  570. fucked her in the pussy. I was ecstatic when she picked me up—I was going
  571. to be paid to fuck a woman. Great. But it wasn’t so great. It wasn’t bad either.
  572. It was just mediocre. When I was with my other clients, there was an
  573. excitement, an electricity. My male clients all wanted me more than they
  574. wanted air. The woman was just another horny lady who wasn’t getting
  575. enough at home, who maybe had some lesbian tendencies she didn’t want to
  576. fully admit to. I don’t know, I’m not a goddamned psychologist. I came on
  577. her big tits. Another two thousand.
  578. When I found my way back to my street corner, I noticed a familiar
  579. woman across the street. It was the luxury whore—the drop-dead beauty who
  580. only went home with the richest men. She was smoking a cigarette, looking
  581. hot. It was the closest I’d ever been to her, and I could practically smell her
  582. perfume from across the street. It was an expensive smell, an irresistible
  583. smell. And those legs—fuck me—those legs. I was tempted to take my
  584. twenty grand and see if I could just get fifteen minutes with the siren.
  585. I watched her closely, observing her mannerisms carefully. I wanted to see
  586. how she hooked the big clients, what she did that was so special (aside from
  587. being the most beautiful woman in the western hemisphere). A Ferrari pulled
  588. up and picked her up. She did nothing but step into the car. Not a word
  589. exchanged. Maybe he was a regular client, or maybe it was just some
  590. unspoken thing. Maybe she could smell the money, and the money could
  591. smell her. Like animals in the jungle.
  592. I was picked up just minutes later. My client’s car wasn’t as nice as a
  593. Ferrari; it was a Ford Focus. He wanted to jerk me off while I jerked him off.
  594. Sure. His grip was uncomfortably tight, and it got tighter the more I beat his
  595. dick. “I want you to come in my mouth,” he said, so I did. He swallowed,
  596. which I wasn’t expecting. “Can I come in your mouth?”
  597. “For another five hundred.” I was hoping he would go for it. Not just
  598. because I needed the extra money, but because I was curious. I wanted to
  599. know what it felt like, having a man come in my mouth (I didn’t count my
  600. first experience, which I could hardly remember because of the shock). My
  601. heart fluttered at the thought and that familiar electricity buzzed through my
  602. body. He didn’t seem too happy about the price jump. His face told me ‘no,’
  603. but the more I whacked him off, and the closer he came to finishing, the more
  604. conflicted he looked.
  605. “Okay, fine,” he said, pulling his dick out from my hand. He stood up
  606. quickly, grabbed me by the back of the head, and pulled me in close to his
  607. crotch. “Open up,” he said through clenched teeth. Then, he came in my
  608. mouth. It wasn’t bad. It kind of tasted like pancake batter. It was warm. I
  609. swallowed, mostly because I thought it would be rude to spit it out in front of
  610. him.
  611. As he dropped me back off at the street corner, the Ferrari pulled up and
  612. dropped off the vixen. She lit up another cigarette and stood there smoking
  613. like a goddamned supermodel. I pulled out a cigarette of my own and tried to
  614. imitate her. Then the thought occurred to me, my chances of surviving had
  615. gone up drastically. I had $22,500 in my purse. That was just two consecutive
  616. wins at the roulette table. My odds of surviving were now hovering around
  617. 25%.
  618. Knowing my luck, it was nowhere near good enough.
  619. I had a few more clients that night, but overall, it was a slow night. I took
  620. a few in the ass, fucked a few in the ass, sucked a few, and got sucked by a
  621. few. I gave my last client of the night half of his money back because I felt
  622. bad. I could hardly get myself hard, and I couldn’t come. I was drained. The
  623. tap was dry. I fucked him in the ass for about fifteen minutes straight and then
  624. I gave him a hand job. He wanted cum in his ass. He didn’t get it and he
  625. looked upset about it.
  626. I went home early and slept. I had one more night, and I needed to make
  627. about sixty thousand dollars. Fifteen thousand if I felt like flipping a coin at
  628. the casino (I didn’t, but it was nice to have a last resort). I needed a miracle.
  629. CHAPTER V
  630. I hit the streets early the next night after a quick visit to the adult toy store.
  631. I got an assortment of dildos, vibrators, strap-ons, lubes—and a bunch of shit
  632. that gave me the shivers, but I wanted to be prepared. Leather harnesses,
  633. masks. I even bought a thick, foot long dildo that looked like it wouldn’t even
  634. fit in a horse. I had no intention of it going inside of me. It was my final night
  635. —I needed to maximize profits. I couldn’t miss out on any potential clients. I
  636. was out before any of the other girls. I was out before the glow of the sun had
  637. left the sky.
  638. But still, my night was off to a slow start.
  639. In my first two hours standing out on that corner, I had one client. He
  640. wanted to fuck my tits and stick a vibrator in my ass. I let him do both. The
  641. vibrator felt good, but the guy was a little too aggressive with it, jamming it in
  642. hard and deep. I had to tell him to take it easy, and to use more lube. Thank
  643. God I bought a ton of lube—the industrial strength stuff. It smelled a bit like
  644. bleach. After I had his money and I’d cleaned the cum off of my tits, I hurried
  645. back to the street corner. There was no time to spare.
  646. My second client wanted to eat out my asshole, which probably just tasted
  647. like strong chemicals at that point. Still, he managed to beat himself to climax
  648. while his tongue was an inch down my hole.
  649. I was back out on the street corner before he even had his fly done up.
  650. But the streets were quiet. It was a weeknight—a cold weeknight. I could
  651. feel my nipples stiffening, poking out, trying to break free from my tight little
  652. dress. My whole body was freezing. The other whores weren’t even out that
  653. night—and I couldn’t blame them. But the Johns weren’t out either. It was
  654. starting to look like I was fucked.
  655. Then a set of headlights started in my direction. They grew brighter and
  656. brighter. I perked up, adjusted my tits and then I adjusted my cock. Then I
  657. saw the car. It was a Bentley—a fucking beautiful Bentley, worth probably
  658. half a million dollars. I looked around to see if the vixen was out. She wasn’t.
  659. The car slowed down as it approached me. I couldn’t tell if my shivers
  660. were from the cold or from anxiety. I needed this job. Ford Focus money
  661. wasn’t cutting it. I needed the Bentley money. The Bentley pulled up to me
  662. and the window rolled down. The driver was wearing an immaculate black
  663. suit, fitted perfectly to his athletic, tanned body. I could smell his cologne. It
  664. smelled like mahogany and money. Lots of money. “Hey beautiful,” he said in
  665. a deep, confident tone.
  666. “Hey there,” I said. Nerves were overtaking my body.
  667. “Hop in,” he said.
  668. “Don’t you want to know my rates?”
  669. He laughed. “Don’t worry about your rates.”
  670. I thought of hopping in, hoping he just wanted a blowjob—hoping,
  671. somehow, he wouldn’t notice my dick. He didn’t look like my clientele. He
  672. looked like he was cruising for a luxury escort, not a tranny whore. “I’ve got a
  673. cock,” I said reluctantly.
  674. He was silent for a moment and his expression dropped. “You’re trans?”
  675. “Yeah. You can still fuck me in the ass though.” I was speaking quickly,
  676. desperately. I didn’t want to lose the job. “I can tuck my cock between my
  677. legs if you want, you won’t even notice it.”
  678. He sat in silence for a moment. He scanned the streets, probably looking
  679. for the beauty. “You look pretty good for a trans.”
  680. I was desperate. “I can suck pretty good, too.” I regretted saying it the
  681. moment the words slipped my tongue. It made me sound like a slut, like some
  682. cheap whore. “I really need the money.” I sounded pathetic. “Please.” I hated
  683. myself. I wanted to run away and hide my face. Instead, I just stared at the
  684. man and waited desperately for a response.
  685. After another long moment of silence, he said, “Okay. Hop in.” I did. He
  686. started to drive. The entire trip, he said nothing, and neither did I. I couldn’t
  687. get a read on him. When we drove past the city limit, I started to panic. Even
  688. in the motels and the alleyways, there was a strange sense of safety. Just being
  689. able to hear nearby traffic, see the glow of street lights—that sense of safety
  690. was gone the moment we were beyond that city limit. Everything was dark,
  691. save for the glow from the Bentley dashboard and the pocket of highway in
  692. the Bentley high beams. “You’re going to earn your pay tonight,” the man
  693. said with a smirk. My heart skipped a beat.
  694. We turned off the highway and then drove down a narrow forest road for
  695. another ten minutes. Then, we arrived at a large mansion. Four stories of
  696. windows were dark. Only one window was lit up, and there were silhouettes
  697. moving around inside. It was the biggest house I’d ever seen—if you could
  698. even call it a house. Castle was maybe a better description. The man left his
  699. car in the roundabout driveway and then led me inside. We walked down a
  700. maze of hallways and staircases and ended up in a large library room.
  701. Waiting in the room were two other men, all dressed in the most
  702. expensive suits money could buy. They were smoking cigars, and didn’t
  703. bother to stand up when they saw us enter.
  704. “We’ve got something a bit different tonight,” said the man who picked
  705. me up.
  706. “She looks alright to me,” the older looking of the two men said. He had
  707. grey hair and some grey scruff on his face.
  708. “She’s a he.”
  709. The men were silent.
  710. “She said she needs the money, so I figured we would see what she can
  711. do.”
  712. “How badly does she need the money?” the clean-shaven, younger man
  713. asked. All eyes turned to me and waited for my response.
  714. My heart stuttered and sunk into my gut. What was the worst they could
  715. do? What could they do that I hadn’t already experienced over the past few
  716. nights? “Badly,” I said. My voice was quiet, sheepish.
  717. The older man stepped up. He scanned my body. He put his hand on my
  718. side and then ran it down to my hip. “Would have fooled me,” he said.
  719. “She did fool me,” said the man who picked me up.
  720. “Well, you are a fool, Aaron,” the older man replied with a laugh. He
  721. brought his hands to my chest and then squeezed my tits. “Impressive. Very
  722. impressive.”
  723. The younger man stepped up. “Let me feel,” he said, taking my tits and
  724. giving them a firm squeeze. I could tell right away that he was going to be
  725. rough. I could practically feel the testosterone through his grip, the way he
  726. squeezed my tits. He reached down and squeezed my butt. “Nice ass, too.”
  727. The two men continued to feel up my body. They didn’t touch my cock. They
  728. were afraid to. Whenever they got close, they retracted their hands and
  729. pretended like they were actually just reaching for my thighs or for my ass.
  730. But I could tell they were curious—the younger man especially. He was
  731. nervous. Every time he looked me in the eyes, he would look away quickly.
  732. His cheeks became red.
  733. “Okay, let’s bring her into the room,” Aaron said.
  734. We went through another set of doors into a dark room. Aaron flicked on
  735. the lights, and the room became lit by a dim orange glow. In the middle of the
  736. room was a black chair-looking thing. It almost looked like a dentists chair,
  737. but smaller. As we walked closer to it, I noticed the hand cuffs on the arm
  738. rests, and then I noticed the ropes hanging from the ceiling, tied like small
  739. nooses. “Sit down,” the older man said, motioning towards the chair.
  740. I hesitated, then thought of the money. Again—what was the worse they
  741. could do? I placed my bag down and then sat down in the chair. Aaron took
  742. my hands and cuffed them to the arm rests. The older man took my ankles
  743. and brought them up to the nooses. I could swing my legs slightly from side
  744. to side, but I was otherwise immobile, paralyzed. I was theirs to do whatever
  745. they wanted. The greying man returned to my chest again and started to
  746. fondle my tits. He pulled my dress down, letting my tits pop out, and then he
  747. bent over to suck on my nipples.
  748. “I’m not cheap,” I said. My body was trembling in fear. “Don’t you want
  749. to know my rates?”
  750. The men all laughed. “I’m sure we’ll survive.”
  751. I could feel my face becoming warm and turning red. “I’m not cheap,” I
  752. said again, sounding like a broken record.
  753. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry about the rates?” Aaron said. His suit
  754. jacket was hanging over a chair and he was undoing his dress shirt, revealing
  755. his chiselled chest.
  756. I tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat.
  757. “I don’t have to remind anyone here that, what happens in the room, stays
  758. in the room. Right?” the younger man asked. His voice was shaken.
  759. “Of course,” Aaron replied. “But I picked her up, so I get to go first.” He
  760. let his pants drop, along with his boxer shorts. He was hung, and already
  761. semi-erect. He stood tall, completely confident in his body, totally
  762. comfortable being naked in front of his friends. He walked around me and
  763. pressed a button on the chair. I started to recline. He let go of the recline
  764. button once my lips were lined up with his cock. “Open that pretty mouth of
  765. yours,” he said. I did, and he slid his throbber into my mouth. “That’s right.
  766. Suck it like you want it.” I sucked it like I wanted sixty thousand dollars.
  767. I could feel the older man’s lips still locked around my nipple, while one
  768. of his hands fondled my tit. I could feel the younger man’s hands exploring
  769. my body, getting closer and closer to my cock. Eventually, he let his fingers
  770. slip over it, and he started to rub it through my dress. He was biting his lip,
  771. staring at my chest, acting as if he wasn’t rubbing a tranny’s cock.
  772. Aaron sunk his cock deeper into my mouth. Too deep. I had the impulse
  773. to pull it out, but I’d forgotten that my hands were locked in place. He
  774. laughed when he heard the cuffs rattling. Still, he kept his member in deep.
  775. The younger man’s hand slipped under my skirt. His face was dark
  776. crimson now, and he was sweating. He grabbed my dick and started to slowly
  777. stroke it. I could feel his hand trembling. He liked it. He wanted it. I could tell
  778. he wanted to suck it. I’d seen that look a half dozen times in the past few
  779. days.
  780. I closed my eyes. The past few days, I’d liked the excitement of sleeping
  781. with strangers, fucking men. There was a harmless fun to it all. But this was
  782. different. This was uncomfortable and overwhelming. I was out in the middle
  783. of nowhere, in someone’s personal home, tied to a sex chair, with three
  784. strange men having their way with me—three men who didn’t give a fuck
  785. about my comfort, my well-being, or my feelings. These were society’s elite
  786. —men who could make any of their problems disappear with money.
  787. Problems which maybe even included dead hookers.
  788. Aaron’s cock sunk down into my throat. I gagged. I couldn’t breathe. But
  789. he held it in place.
  790. The younger man started to fondle my balls. His breathing was shallow,
  791. sporadic. He wanted to suck my cock so badly, but he was afraid—afraid his
  792. friends would think he was gay. Maybe he was afraid I would think he was
  793. gay. Maybe he didn’t want that getting out. How far would he go to make sure
  794. that didn’t get out?
  795. Aaron slipped his cock out from my mouth and I took a deep breath in. I
  796. coughed and gagged. None of the men cared. “Move,” Aaron said to the
  797. younger man, who obeyed the command. It was obvious Aaron was the leader
  798. of the pack, probably the owner of the car, of the house, of the crazy fucking
  799. sex room. He pulled my dress up and ripped my panties off of my body with a
  800. swift tug. He looked down at my cock and smiled. “Nice dick,” he said.
  801. Before I could respond, the older man grabbed my head and turned it onto
  802. its side. His cock was out, hard, and ready to be inside of my mouth. I opened
  803. up and a second later, I was sucking his dick. Thankfully, he was
  804. insurmountably more gentle than Aaron. But the kid was next, and he was
  805. shaking, hardly able to contain his boiling testosterone. The older man was
  806. the calm before the storm.
  807. I felt Aaron push his cock into my asshole. He let it sink in slowly, waited
  808. a moment for me to relax, for me to un-pucker my hole. I closed my eyes and
  809. took a breath. The sooner he got going, the sooner it would all be over. I felt
  810. my asshole unclench, and he started to slide his slick cock in and out.
  811. “She knows how to take a cock,” Aaron laughed. I could feel everything
  812. —every vein, every ridge, every throb—everything.
  813. I kept my eyes closed. The older man slipped his cock out and I took
  814. another series of deep breaths. Then, my eyes still closed, I felt a thick,
  815. bulbous tip press up against my lips. I opened my eyes. It was the kid. He was
  816. rock-hard, and big, like a lead pipe. I could practically see the blood and
  817. adrenaline surging through the veins of his cock. “Open up,” he said with a
  818. coy voice. I opened my mouth wide and he crammed his throbber in. He
  819. grabbed the back of my head with a tight grip and started to fuck my face like
  820. it was a hole in his parent’s couch. I could feel my mascara running down my
  821. face. I couldn’t breathe. I was starting to become faint.
  822. “Let’s make her earn her rate,” the older man said with a laugh. Then, I
  823. felt the tip of his cock press up against my asshole. But Aaron was still inside.
  824. I looked down my body. He wasn’t waiting for Aaron to finish. He was
  825. joining in.
  826. It was impossible, I thought. My asshole would never stretch enough for
  827. two cocks.
  828. I was wrong.
  829. Somehow, the older man managed to squeeze the tip of his cock in. Fuck,
  830. it hurt. I screamed out loud.
  831. Slowly, the older man pushed himself in deeper. Aaron continued to thrust
  832. in and out, completely unphased by the fact he was rubbing his dick up
  833. against his friend’s. I had two full cocks in my asshole. I was wincing in pain.
  834. My whole body was tense. I rolled my head from side to side, trying to fight
  835. away the pain, but it was hopeless. “Is she okay?” the older man asked.
  836. “She’s fine. She needs the money.” I could see Aaron smirking out of the
  837. corner of my eye.
  838. The older man hesitated, then started to slide in and out, opposite his
  839. friend. I could feel my asshole stretching out, probably permanently. The kid
  840. grabbed my head, held it firm, and stuck his giant cock back into my mouth.
  841. Three. That was the number of cocks I had in my body. I couldn’t breathe.
  842. The faintness returned. The room started to become white and the pain began
  843. to disappear. I was going numb. Maybe I was dying.
  844. I lost consciousness. For how long, I have no idea. A few seconds? A
  845. minute? A few minutes?
  846. When I came back to, there was no cock in my mouth, but the two men
  847. were still fucking me in the asshole. I could hardly feel a thing. The younger
  848. man was straddling me, his ass planted on my belly. “If you won’t suck me
  849. off, at least jerk me off,” he said. I hadn’t realized until that moment that one
  850. of my hands had been freed. Probably while I was out cold.
  851. I wanted to tear his throat out. Of all the clients I’d had, he was the most
  852. ruthless, the most selfish. The rich, spoiled little shit. He was lucky I didn’t
  853. tear his dick off of his body. I took his cock and started to jerk him off. I
  854. gripped him tight, channelling a lot of my anger into his manhood. “Take it
  855. easy,” he said.
  856. “Suck my dick,” I said.
  857. “What the fuck did you just say?”
  858. “I said, suck my dick. I know you fucking want to. Just suck it.”
  859. He stared at me for a moment, his face a dark shade of red. Then, he
  860. turned around, slid back, and bent over, lining his asshole up with my face. I
  861. could feel him lifting up my dick, and then I could feel it sliding into his
  862. mouth. I was right. He did want it. And judging by the way he was sucking it,
  863. like his goddamned life depended on it, he loved it. After a minute of
  864. ferocious sucking, he resurfaced. “Finger my asshole,” he said, and then his
  865. lips locked with my cock again. I followed the order, and stuck two of my
  866. fingers as far up his ass as I could. He moaned a muffled moan.
  867. The two cocks in my asshole were hitting a sweet spot just perfectly,
  868. sending jolts of euphoria surging through my body. My legs started to tremble
  869. uncontrollably. My whole body felt like it was lifting up into the air,
  870. weightless. The kid had my whole cock in his mouth, half of it in his throat. I
  871. was about to come. I decided not to warn the spoiled little prick.
  872. I came in his throat. I was hoping it would piss him off, but instead he
  873. moaned as if he was the one coming.
  874. “Shit,” Aaron said, and I knew already what was about to happen. I could
  875. feel one of the cocks in my ass swelling up, picking up intensity, slamming
  876. down harder. He was about to come. He didn’t pull out, and I could feel my
  877. asshole filling up with his warm juice. The older man wasn’t too far behind.
  878. Before Aaron even finished, he started coming. There were two massive loads
  879. deep in my asshole, being held in place by two massive cocks.
  880. They pulled out in unison, and the massive load of warm, white, sticky
  881. cum poured out. Aaron stumbled back, the kid remained slumped over my
  882. body. Everyone in the room took a few minutes to catch their breath and
  883. gather their composure before muttering a word. My asshole hurt. My head
  884. hurt from lack of oxygen. My wrists hurt from pulling against the handcuffs.
  885. Everything hurt.
  886. The men seemed satisfied. Thank God, I thought. It was all over. Once
  887. Aaron was able to stand upright, he unlocked my cuffs and released my
  888. ankles. It took me a minute to stand up. Cum was still pouring down my legs,
  889. still trickling out of my asshole.
  890. “What do we owe you?” Aaron asked, walking over to a desk.
  891. “Sixty thousand,” I said without missing a beat.
  892. “Sixty thousand dollars? Jesus—that’s a lot of dough.”
  893. “I tried to tell you my rates. You told me not to worry about the rates.” I
  894. became quickly defensive. I was done for the night. There was no way I could
  895. handle another client. I probably wouldn’t be able to handle another client for
  896. another week. And my debt was due in the morning. I wasn’t leaving that
  897. mansion until I got my sixty grand.
  898. Aaron laughed. “Okay, fair enough.” He pulled a wad of bills out from his
  899. desk and handed them to me. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
  900. The weight of the money was surprising, like the cash was made out of
  901. cement—or maybe my arms were just tired from subconsciously tugging
  902. against the cuffs. I didn’t count it in front of him. I didn’t even count it when
  903. he dropped me off, back at the street corner. I waited until I got home. Sixty
  904. grand is a lot of money, and I wasn’t exactly in the best part of town. There
  905. was street scum that would have killed for that money. I’m sure there were
  906. regular people out there that would have kill for a wad of cash like that. It was
  907. like I’d made two years worth of pay in a couple of hours. Yet somehow, my
  908. ass still sore, thinking of both of those dicks lodged way up my hole, it
  909. seemed well-deserved.
  910. When I got home, I counted it. There was ninety thousand dollars in that
  911. wad of cash. Exactly the amount I needed the pay off my debt. It was as if
  912. Aaron knew. Was it possible? Was Aaron part of the mafia? He didn’t look
  913. like a mobster—but who did these days?
  914. I was still in my work outfit when the goomba came to collect my debt. I
  915. was even still in makeup. I didn’t give a shit what he knew or thought. In a
  916. way, I was proud of what I’d done, what I’d managed to accomplish. So what
  917. if I made the money sucking dick and taking it in the ass?
  918. He didn’t say anything as he took the money. He did check me out though,
  919. and it seemed as if he liked what he saw. He left in silence.
  920. After he left, I got a phone call.
  921. It was my insider friend, the guy who gave me the tip on the bum stock.
  922. He was ecstatic, over the moon. “Tanner—you there, buddy?” he said
  923. speaking quickly, as if he’d just done six lines of cocaine. “You there?”
  924. “I’m here. What is it?” I wanted to tell him what I’d gone through because
  925. of him, how little I’d slept over the past week, how many dicks I’d put into
  926. my body. I decided to keep quiet. It wasn’t his fault as much as it was my
  927. fault. I took the risk. I decided to go to the mob for the money. All he did was
  928. give me a tip—although he did say it was a sure thing, the prick.
  929. “The stock—it exploded overnight. I told you it was good. Did I not tell
  930. you it was good? We’re fucking rich, buddy.”
  931. I was silent. My heart sank into my gut. “How rich?” I managed to ask
  932. through the lump in my throat.
  933. “It was at four dollars when we bought in, yeah?”
  934. “Yeah.”
  935. “It’s up to eighty now, and still climbing.” It was up twenty-fold. My
  936. $80,000 investment was up to 1.6 million. The thirty thousand dollar tip I’d
  937. made the night before suddenly seemed like nothing.
  938. “Are you fucking with me?”
  939. “No. It’s at Eighty-one now. Still climbing!” Another twenty grand.
  940. “We’re rich!” I’d never even heard that kind of excitement out of a child.
  941. I cashed out my earnings and booked the next available flight to
  942. Venezuela. I could finally go back to my real life, my life as Tanner. Except it
  943. would be better than ever. For once in my life, I had money. I wouldn’t have
  944. to whore myself out. I wouldn’t have to make deals with the mafia. I was free
  945. from everything and everyone. But when I got to the airport, I hesitated. I
  946. kind of liked being a woman. I liked the way men swooned over me,
  947. complimented me, held doors open for me. For once I didn’t feel invisible.
  948. Still, I got on the flight.
  949. And two weeks later, when I returned to America, I was a different
  950. person. I wasn’t a T-girl anymore. I was a full-blown woman. I decided to get
  951. the full operation. The hormones, the vagina, the laser hair removal—
  952. everything. The doctor did a bang up job, too.
  953. It wasn’t even an hour into my flight home and I’d joined the mile-high
  954. club. A handsome man ate me out in the bathroom. I don’t know how that
  955. doctor did it, but that tongue felt incredible. For a moment, I was on another
  956. dimension.
  957. I was happy. Life was looking bright. Brighter than it ever had before.
  958. THE END
  959. T GIRL
  960. Since his high school sweetheart, April, left town, Matt’s love life hasn’t
  961. been great. He just can’t seem to hold down a relationship for more than a few
  962. weeks. Not to mention, he seems to be getting more unwanted attention from
  963. men than women — probably because he was cursed with looking like a
  964. woman. No matter how he dresses, how he does his hair, he’s always been
  965. confused as a woman. It’s why his last girlfriend left him — she said so in a
  966. text message.
  967. After one breakup too many, Matt has a crazy idea. Why not just embrace
  968. his curse? Why not try out being a woman for a while? With a bit of makeup
  969. and a short skirt, he’s got men drooling over him, and he likes it.
  970. But how far is too far? Are breast implants too far? What about sexual
  971. reassignment surgery?
  972. CHAPTER I
  973. Everyone remembers their first time. I remember both of my first times;
  974. my first time as Matt, and my first time as Taylor.
  975. My first time as Matt was special. I was young, shy, nervous—it was fast.
  976. It was with a girl I had been dating for months, April, who I’d had a crush on
  977. for years. It was her first time as well. We were both so young, so nervous, so
  978. stupid. We both laughed a lot, took it slow. She was beautiful. Her body was
  979. perfect—thin, tight, supple breasts. I can still remember squeezing her tits,
  980. watching her eyes close as her head rolled back on her pillow. I can still
  981. remember the way her pussy gripped my cock as I slowly slid inside of her,
  982. how her thighs wrapped around my body, how her nails dug into my sides. It
  983. was all over in a flash, but goddamn, I’ll never forget that moment. She was
  984. the love of my life—the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
  985. But she moved away with her family to London, England a few months
  986. later and I never saw or heard from her again. Life was never quite the same
  987. after that.
  988. My first time as Taylor was different. It was exciting, unexpected, but I
  989. definitely wouldn’t call it special. I can’t even remember the guy’s name.
  990. I was sitting in a bar, waiting for my girlfriend, Kylie, to show up. It was
  991. our one-month anniversary. We had tickets to go to the local university
  992. football team’s season opener. I had a gift all wrapped up for her and
  993. everything. I was still Matt—Taylor didn’t even exist yet, but she was about
  994. to.
  995. Kylie and I had been dating for a month. She was a few years younger
  996. than me; she was blonde and smoking hot. Sure, she was a bit of a ditz, but
  997. she was fun. She liked partying, going to clubs, drinking, music festivals—all
  998. of the things girls in their early twenties like to do. I’d never cared for any of
  999. those things, but I liked that she got me out of my comfort zone, and I liked
  1000. the sex. It was good at first—things were moving quickly. She was practically
  1001. moved in to my apartment after two weeks. But I had a feeling it wasn’t going
  1002. to last. Whenever I asked about meeting her friends or her family, she
  1003. changed the subject. It had only been a month and she was already ignoring
  1004. my text messages. She stopped sleeping over, and eventually, she stopped
  1005. coming over all together. I knew it was just a matter of time before she
  1006. showed up at my apartment, took her pile of clothes and all of her makeup
  1007. and left for good.
  1008. Sitting in that bar, I looked down at my watch and I realized Kylie was
  1009. exactly an hour late. As I looked back up, I felt the vibration in my pocket,
  1010. and a tingle crept up my spine. Somehow, I knew what the message said
  1011. before I even pulled the phone out—and I was right.
  1012. It was from Kylie. “Matt, I really like you, but I don’t think we’re going
  1013. to work out. I’m so sorry.”
  1014. I placed the phone down on the bar and stared at it for a moment. I felt
  1015. like an idiot. One-month anniversary? How stupid. I felt even more stupid
  1016. with the gift bag that was sitting under my chair, inside of which was a Clone
  1017. Your Man kit—a kit to make a replica dildo of your cock.
  1018. I considered deleting the message, deleting Kylie from my phone, and
  1019. pretending like the relationship never happened. I wasn’t too torn up over it;
  1020. good sex aside, it wasn’t much of a relationship. There had never been much
  1021. of a connection. But I was frustrated. Kylie wasn’t the first girl to break things
  1022. off so suddenly. She wasn’t the first girl who kept me away from her friends
  1023. and her family. I didn’t want to keep going through the same thing, over and
  1024. over again. I needed to know what I was doing wrong.
  1025. So I asked, “Why?”
  1026. And I got the typical answer. “It’s not you, Matt, it’s me.” And then after
  1027. fifteen minutes of back-and-forth, she finally told me the real reason. “You’re
  1028. a nice guy, Matt, but I just need someone who’s more of a man.” That shiver
  1029. ran down my spine again.
  1030. I started getting PTSD-like flashbacks to grade school. “Has anyone asked
  1031. you out to the dance yet, Matilda?” “Hey Matt, if Hailey says no, want to put
  1032. on a wig and go to prom with me?” “Hey Matt, get your period yet? When are
  1033. your tits coming in?” My life was like a running joke.
  1034. I looked like a girl. I’d always looked like a girl.
  1035. I didn’t matter what clothes I wore or how I styled my hair, I was
  1036. constantly being confused for a woman. My voice was higher than the other
  1037. guys, I was shorter, my body was more slender. Unless I was looking straight
  1038. up, and the light was hitting my neck at just the right angle, you couldn’t even
  1039. see my Adam’s apple. Sitting in that bar, I could still hear the voices of my
  1040. classmates ringing in my head. Those voices were responsible for years of
  1041. depression and a lifetime of social anxiety.
  1042. “Just ignore them, Matt,” my dad always told me. “Just embrace your
  1043. differences.” Easier said than done, Dad.
  1044. I could feel that familiar depression creeping back inside of me. When the
  1045. bartender walked past, I was quick to order a double whiskey, neat. “And
  1046. keep the tab running,” I said before the bartender was out of earshot.
  1047. Watching the bartender pour my drink, I could only think of April—the
  1048. only girl who didn’t care about my higher voice, my height, or my smooth
  1049. neck. Why did she have to leave for London? Why did she never come back?
  1050. Why did she never reach out? I brought my drink to my lips and let the burn
  1051. trickle into my mouth.
  1052. “It’s not too often you see a young lady ordering whiskey,” a deep voice
  1053. said. A few seats down to my side was a tall, muscular man. His skin was
  1054. dark from sun exposure, and his clothes were dirtied and ratty—probably his
  1055. work clothes from some labour job building houses or digging ditches. He
  1056. had a smile on his face, a genuine smile. A part of me wanted to tell the guy
  1057. to go fuck himself, but I kept my cool. I thought about telling him I was a
  1058. man, but then I considered the ensuing humiliation for both me and him. So
  1059. instead, I just smiled and said, “Thank you.”
  1060. It’s strange. On days when you’re feeling exceptionally self-conscious, it’s
  1061. as if you can hear your own voice, the way others hear it. It’s an
  1062. uncomfortable, unfamiliar thing, like listening to a recording of yourself. It
  1063. was true, I did kind of sound like a chick.
  1064. The man was looking down at my drink, which was now just an empty
  1065. glass. “Rough night?” he asked.
  1066. “Something like that.” I could feel the liquor seeping into my veins, into
  1067. my brain.
  1068. The man waved down the bartender. “Excuse me—could I get another
  1069. beer, and another whiskey for the lady?” He looked back at me. “I hope you
  1070. don’t mind—I know what rough days are like.” He smiled again and his eyes
  1071. flashed. I wanted to be angry with the man but I couldn’t do it. He wasn’t
  1072. doing anything wrong. He wasn’t calling me ‘sugar’ or grabbing my ass (all
  1073. experiences I’d endured before). He was just being a nice guy. He told me his
  1074. name and then asked, “What’s your name?”
  1075. There was a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio. “Taylor,” I said
  1076. before I had a proper chance to think. I felt my heart sink into my gut—I was
  1077. actually doing this, I was actually pretending to be a woman. A strange rush
  1078. charged through my body. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was some
  1079. sort of perverse excitement, knowing I was doing something wrong—
  1080. something naughty.
  1081. “Are you cold?” he asked.
  1082. I looked down and realized my hands were trembling with nerves. I could
  1083. feel a warmth in my cheeks. “Yeah,” I said, sinking my hands between my
  1084. thighs.
  1085. The man smiled, stood up, and took off his jacket. “Here,” he said,
  1086. placing it over my back before taking the seat next to me. “You don’t mind if
  1087. I sit here, do you?” Again, I wanted to be angry with the man, but he was
  1088. being so polite, so charming. I went to take a sip from my drink but just ended
  1089. up lifting an empty glass to my lips. At some point between realizing my
  1090. hands were shaking and when the man took the seat next to me, I’d managed
  1091. to finish another double whiskey. Though I couldn’t remember drinking it, I
  1092. could already feel it leaking into my veins, numbing my senses, dulling my
  1093. nerves.
  1094. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you’re very beautiful, Taylor.” He
  1095. smiled and I blushed. The night became a haze after that. I remember the
  1096. bartender placing another drink down in front of me. I remember the man’s
  1097. hand finding my shoulder as we did a shot together—and another shot
  1098. together. I remember him laughing—and I remember laughing with him.
  1099. And the next thing I remember is stumbling into the bathroom, towards
  1100. the sink. I stared at myself in the mirror and it was like staring at a stranger. I
  1101. wasn’t staring at Matt. I was staring at a woman, I was staring at Taylor.
  1102. Then, the door opened and the man stumbled in. I froze, realizing I was in
  1103. the men’s bathroom. It took him a moment to realize I was in the room, and
  1104. then he froze and looked around. “I’m sorry. Did I walk into the wrong
  1105. bathroom?” he asked.
  1106. I looked around and faked a laugh. “No, I think I did. I’m sorry.” I started
  1107. towards the door, my heart pounding against my chest. The liquor was still
  1108. surging through my body, controlling everything.
  1109. As I walked past, he grabbed me, spun me around, and kissed me on the
  1110. lips. He was powerful, like I was hardly a ragdoll in his arms. By the time I
  1111. realized what was happening, I was already kissing him back. There was a
  1112. strange comfort in being held like that, in those thick arms. There was a
  1113. strange comfort in the way his stubble brushed against my face as his tongue
  1114. slipped through my lips. I put my hands on his arms and suddenly felt tiny,
  1115. unable to extend my fingers around even half of his rock-hard biceps.
  1116. The thought occurred to me: if he found out I was a man, he could have
  1117. destroyed me, squashed me like a bug.
  1118. He pulled back and shook his head, his face suddenly a shade of crimson,
  1119. guilty. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he said. “You’re just
  1120. —you’re just very beautiful.”
  1121. I could feel that warmth glowing in my cheeks again—a feeling I hadn’t
  1122. felt since high school, since I was with April. It was nice to feel admired and
  1123. appreciated, even if it was for the wrong reasons, for being someone I wasn’t.
  1124. I thought about leaving—the bathroom was just steps from the backdoor. But
  1125. the liquor was in control of my body, not me. I stepped forward, wrapped my
  1126. arms around him, and kissed him again. I ran my hands down his sides,
  1127. feeling the rigid curves of his muscular body. The moment became a blur.
  1128. His hands found my shoulders and then I could feel myself sinking down
  1129. to my knees. He was pushing me down. My fingers found his belt buckle and
  1130. the next thing I knew, his belt was on the floor, next to my knees, and I was
  1131. pulling down his fly.
  1132. My heart was tolling like a church bell against my ribcage. What the hell
  1133. was I doing? Why was I letting myself do this? His pants dropped down to his
  1134. ankles, and then I saw the bulge growing, pulsing against his boxer shorts. It
  1135. was huge, becoming massive. I froze again.
  1136. “What’s wrong?” he asked between heavy breaths.
  1137. I looked up and forced a smile. “Nothing.”
  1138. I slowly lifted my hand to the stiff rod and carefully wrapped my fingers
  1139. around it. I had never touched another man’s cock before. It was warm, solid,
  1140. throbbing. He let out a long sigh of relief the moment my trembling fingers
  1141. were around the beast. I froze yet again. “It’s not going to bite,” he said with a
  1142. laugh.
  1143. I thought about running, but his back was against the door. “Fuck, you’re
  1144. beautiful,” he said. I couldn’t run. For the first time since I could remember, I
  1145. was being complimented, not criticized. I began to stroke his cock through his
  1146. boxers. Somehow, it became bigger and harder, a warm lead pipe in my hand.
  1147. Everything about the moment was crazy—I was drunk, I’d completely
  1148. lost my mind. Matt was gone. There was only Taylor there in that bathroom.
  1149. He pushed my hand away and, without warning, dropped his boxers to his
  1150. ankles. His hard cock sprung up with force. I could feel my own bulge
  1151. beginning to harden and press up tightly against my underwear. My heart
  1152. skipped a beat—what am I going to do when he wants to get into my pants?
  1153. What will I do when he realizes I have a cock between my legs, just like him?
  1154. His fingers slipped around the back of my head and he pulled me in close
  1155. to his massive manhood. “Go ahead and suck it, baby,” he said. I took the
  1156. thing in my hand, head spinning, brought the tip up to my lips, and opened
  1157. wide. Before I could hesitate, he pulled me in, slipping his throbbing dick into
  1158. my mouth. The intense girth of it stretched my lips thin. I could feel every
  1159. ridge and vein of his cock against my tongue, my cheeks, and the roof of my
  1160. mouth.
  1161. Some alien instinct took control. I started to suck him off. I sunk his
  1162. member as far towards my throat as I could handle, before gagging him out.
  1163. What I couldn’t fit into my mouth, I clasped with my hand, and I beat him off
  1164. while I sucked his cock. My head was still spinning and my heart was still
  1165. rapidly tolling. A strange thought occurred to me—if I get him off in my
  1166. mouth, he won’t want to get into my pants, and then he won’t have to see my
  1167. cock. He won’t find out I’m a man. For some reason, in my state of
  1168. intoxication, the thought was solid and sound. I sucked him harder, and
  1169. pumped him faster.
  1170. He stumbled back into the door, but I never lost my hold on his member.
  1171. “Holy fuck,” he muttered, his legs trembling. I could feel his cock swelling,
  1172. his fingers grabbing my hair, which hurt, but in that moment I didn’t care.
  1173. “Shit!” he moaned with a deep sigh.
  1174. As I leaned back for a quick breath of air, without warning, he came on
  1175. my face. His cock unloaded blast after blast of hot cum on my cheeks,
  1176. forehead, chin, nose. I shut my eyes tight and winced away from the barrage,
  1177. but it was too late. I was covered in his load.
  1178. He was panting and I was rendered frozen. The reality of the situation
  1179. came rushing in. All he had to do was look down and he would have seen the
  1180. massive bulge of my own cock pushing out from my pants. Thankfully, he
  1181. was in his own state of drunken euphoria. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down
  1182. at my cum-soaked face. He blushed.
  1183. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile. The exhilaration was still
  1184. like an electricity inside of me. He left me alone to clean up. When I was
  1185. done, I slipped out the back door and never saw him again.
  1186. “I will never do that again,” I told myself as I walked into my dark
  1187. apartment, still shaken with excitement. But as I lay down in my bed, I
  1188. couldn’t help but think of Taylor—who she was, and who she could be.
  1189. The next morning I packed all of my now ex-girlfriend’s things into a box
  1190. and put it by the door for her to come pick up. She never came to pick it up.
  1191. CHAPTER II
  1192. It was a few months after the incident at the bar that I realized Taylor was
  1193. starting to take over, whether I wanted her to or not. It was like a part of me
  1194. was boiling up to the surface, silently—so silently, even I didn’t notice it at
  1195. first. My hair started growing longer, but I didn’t stop it. I liked it long. I even
  1196. went into the barber to get it cut off, but ended up asking for a dusting—
  1197. hardly a trim.
  1198. I started taking a different route home from work every day. I thought I
  1199. just wanted a change of scenery. But the route I was taking just happened to
  1200. pass by a new clinic—one that specialized in female enhancement and sex
  1201. reassignment. I would stop and stare at the building and I would remember
  1202. that night as Taylor. Maybe I took the route on purpose, subconsciously
  1203. wanting to check out the clinic.
  1204. I watched people leaving the clinic—people who were once men and were
  1205. now women. They never looked like women to me. They looked like men in
  1206. drag with fake tits. Hell, I looked more like a woman than any of them. I
  1207. looked more like a woman than some of the naturally-born women who
  1208. walked out from that clinic with their new, bigger breasts.
  1209. One day, as I stood outside the clinic, a car full of teen boys pulled up to a
  1210. red light. They looked over at me and then one of them whistled. Another
  1211. yelled, “Show us your tits!” I just stared back, feeling angry, humiliated. Even
  1212. after hearing the same catcalls my whole lifetime, it still stung. That evening,
  1213. I got home and looked myself in the mirror. I wasn’t staring at Matt. I was
  1214. staring at Taylor. I could feel a pit in my stomach. I saw men with long hair
  1215. all of the time who still looked like men. I didn’t. It didn’t help that I couldn’t
  1216. grow any facial hair to save my life.
  1217. As I stood there, staring at Taylor in the mirror, I could hear my dad’s
  1218. voice echoing in my head. “Embrace your differences.” I don’t think he was
  1219. ever saying ‘just be a woman,’ but it was starting to seem like that was the
  1220. only answer. The image of that reassignment clinic crossed through my mind.
  1221. I didn’t want to undergo sexual reassignment surgery. I didn’t want to lose
  1222. myself just because it would make life easier. But something deep inside of
  1223. me wanted to be Taylor, wanted to see what life would be like as Taylor, not
  1224. Matt. I was sick of Matt.
  1225. I found myself looking at the clinic’s website. Reassignment surgery was
  1226. out of the question, way too expensive, and the post-result photos weren’t
  1227. exactly the most convincing images I’ve ever seen. Breast implants weren’t
  1228. too bad—a few grand and they looked pretty good.
  1229. I tried to pull myself away from the mirror, to watch some television, to
  1230. get my mind off of all the nonsense. I wasn’t actually considering becoming a
  1231. woman, was I? As I flipped through the channels, I landed on the E Channel.
  1232. Ryan Seacrest was interviewing Taylor Swift. She looked good. I thought her
  1233. makeup was nice and her hair was nice. Her hair was about as long as mine.
  1234. The box of my ex-girlfriend’s things caught my eye, pulling my attention
  1235. away from the television. The next thing I knew, I was digging through the
  1236. box, pulling out makeup, clothes, and a hair straightener. I spent the next few
  1237. hours in the bathroom, straightening my hair, putting on eye-liner, mascara,
  1238. eye-shadow, and so on. I wanted to see what Taylor could be, what she could
  1239. look like with a little bit of effort.
  1240. The bra Kylie left behind was heavily padded (she didn’t have much of a
  1241. chest) so I didn’t have to do much in terms of stuffing. I loved the way the
  1242. black lace panties hugged my cock tight against my body, and the way her
  1243. white stockings squeezed my legs. When I put on the skirt, I started to get
  1244. hard. The panties didn’t do much in keeping my cock down. It sprung out and
  1245. pushed the skirt outwards like a stray tent pole. Kylie left a sheer lace top
  1246. behind—one I’d always thought made her look like a slut (it didn’t leave
  1247. much to the imagination). But the moment I slipped it on, I understood why
  1248. she liked it so much. It made me look hot. My dick got harder, bigger, and
  1249. taller; the tip of it poked out from the bottom of the short skirt. Was I making
  1250. myself horny, or was it just the excitement of being so hot, of knowing what I
  1251. could do with this kind of power?
  1252. I looked out the window at the club across the street, the club I had only
  1253. ever been in once, with Kylie. The line-up was down the street—all twentysomethings,
  1254. mostly men. The women all walked up to the bouncer, and only
  1255. the hot ones got through. The others were sent to the back of the line. I
  1256. wondered, if I went down there now, would I get through?
  1257. If I did get through, then what? See if men would buy me drinks? How far
  1258. could I go? What if I ended up back in the bathroom with one of them? My
  1259. heart began to race. What if they wanted to fuck? Would I do it? Could I
  1260. somehow hide my big cock? I bet if I just pushed aside my panties, a man
  1261. could get his dick into my asshole without even coming near my cock. Now
  1262. my heart was pounding and my forehead was hot.
  1263. I shook my head. Was I seriously considering letting a man fuck me in the
  1264. ass? I looked in the mirror. I was blushing—Taylor was blushing. And damn,
  1265. was she hot—even with the raging-hard boner sticking straight up through her
  1266. skirt—my skirt. I’d never had so much as a finger up my ass, never mind a
  1267. whole dick.
  1268. Why not give it a try?
  1269. I lay back on my bed, flipped my skirt up onto my belly, and I grabbed my
  1270. member in my hand—not my own member, but the one I’d cloned for Kylie
  1271. —the rubber dildo replica of my own manhood that never made it out from
  1272. the gift bag until that moment. I slipped my panties down to my knees,
  1273. squirted some lube onto the tip of the sex toy, and then brought it down to my
  1274. asshole. It didn’t seem possible, the thought of getting the whole thing in
  1275. there, through my tight little hole. But women did it all the time, right? How
  1276. hard could it be?
  1277. I closed my eyes and rolled my head to the side. I pushed it, twisted it,
  1278. tried a few different angles, but I couldn’t seem to get past my clenched
  1279. asshole. I needed to relax. I tried taking deep breaths. I managed to get the tip
  1280. of it in, but that was it. Then, I opened my eyes and found myself face-to-face
  1281. with Taylor in my closet mirror. Suddenly, the cock slipped in deep—and I
  1282. could feel it the whole way, stuffing me tight. My eyes shot open wide. I froze
  1283. for a moment and clenched tight on the toy. “Holy shit,” I heard myself
  1284. mutter, slowly sliding the fake cock out of me. I pushed it back in, this time
  1285. deeper. It felt incredible. I let my head sink into my pillow and I watched as I
  1286. fucked myself in the asshole, my big dick laying hard on my stomach.
  1287. Faster, faster, faster. I needed it deeper. I needed it harder. I started to beat
  1288. myself off while I fucked myself in the ass. “Oh my God,” I repeated over
  1289. and over. I could feel the most intense orgasm coming on, drawing closer and
  1290. closer. I could feel my cock swelling up in my grip, my anus tightening
  1291. around the sex toy. I looked to the mirror. I wanted to watch Taylor come on
  1292. herself, on her face, on her belly, on that skirt. But I wanted the moment to
  1293. last, so I held on. I held on as long as I could, pumping my dick faster,
  1294. holding tighter, drilling my dildo harder into my asshole.
  1295. Then, I burst. Cum sprayed my face, my top, my tummy, my skirt—
  1296. everything. I watched myself in the mirror. I was beautiful, sexy, naughty. My
  1297. heart was racing, my head was spinning, everything seemed right. This was
  1298. who I was meant to be—I was a woman, I was a slut, I was Taylor.
  1300. It took a week to finally build up the courage to go down to that club.
  1301. Walking up to the bouncer, my mind was flashing with anxieties. What if he
  1302. told me to go to the back of the line? What if someone could tell I was a man,
  1303. even through the clothes and through all of the makeup? What if I ran into
  1304. someone I knew—someone from work? I would never be able to show my
  1305. face at the office ever again—or would they even recognize me with my
  1306. makeup and my guise?
  1307. “Hi,” I said sheepishly to the bouncer.
  1308. He looked me up and down and then a grin swept across his face. My
  1309. heart fluttered, and then he said, “Go ahead.” He pulled away the little red
  1310. rope and I was inside. My heart calmed down some as soon as I was inside. It
  1311. was dark, save for the flashing coloured lights at the dance floor. As I scanned
  1312. the room, I caught a good share of glares in my direction, glares from men
  1313. scouting out their prey. I was alone; I was an easy target. The only question
  1314. remaining was, would they go for me? Would I pass the real test? Even that
  1315. anxiety fluttered away after I caught a glimpse of myself a nearby mirror. I
  1316. was a babe—hotter than most of the girls in the club.
  1317. It didn’t take long for the affirmation. A man reached a drink out in front
  1318. of my face. “For you,” he said simply. I looked at the man. He was good
  1319. looking enough, tall, clean-shaven, drunk. I didn’t know what the drink was,
  1320. but I accepted it. As I did, he smiled as if he’d won. “Steve,” he said with an
  1321. aura of confidence.
  1322. Three drinks later, we were in the bathroom. His hands were all over me,
  1323. up my shirt, down my skirt. His fingers weren’t far from my cock. Whenever
  1324. they got close, I would lead them away. After a few minutes, I’d gotten pretty
  1325. good at it. It helped that he was an ass-man, obsessed with squeezing my ass
  1326. and flirting the tip of his finger over my asshole.
  1327. Club-goers were walking in and out of the bathroom casually, as if we
  1328. weren’t even there, as if it was a regular sight at the club, seeing people
  1329. getting busy right in the open in the bathroom. Even once his rock-hard cock
  1330. was out, and I was down on my knees with half of it in my mouth, no one
  1331. batted an eye.
  1332. Steve was more aggressive than my first a few weeks earlier—more
  1333. careless. He held my head in place and thrust his cock into my mouth as if I
  1334. was some glorified sex toy. I couldn’t help but gag all over his dick, but he
  1335. didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it just got him harder, made him want it
  1336. more. He held my hair tightly, nearly pulling it out from my scalp. It hurt like
  1337. hell, and kind of pissed me off—I’d spent all evening getting my hair right,
  1338. making sure every strand was perfect. Now, it was a flustered mess, nothing
  1339. more than something for the horny bastard to hold onto.
  1340. When I finally had a chance to pull back for air, he pulled me up to my
  1341. feet with force. I would have fallen on my ass had the horny fuck not pinned
  1342. my chest to the bathroom wall. My trembling legs were much more of an
  1343. issue that night. I was in a pair of high heels that were two sizes too small—
  1344. and it was the first time I’d ever worn heels.
  1345. His fingers found the waistline of my panties. I swatted him away. “No,” I
  1346. said. If the panties came down, my dick would spring out. I’d be dead.
  1347. Instead, I pushed aside the thin piece of fabric covering my asshole. “In my
  1348. ass,” I said. “I want you to fuck me in the asshole.” My voice was shaken—
  1349. my whole body was shaken. But I had to sell it, I couldn’t let him think there
  1350. was any other option.
  1351. “Fuck,” he said with a laugh as he lined up the tip of his slobber-covered
  1352. cock with my tight hole. “You’re such a fucking slut.”
  1353. Steve had a big cock, much bigger than the clone I’d been practising with
  1354. all week—the clone I could hardly squeeze into my asshole to begin with. But
  1355. I had no other choice—I didn’t have a pussy after all, not yet.
  1356. He pushed himself in and it hurt like a sonofabitch. He didn’t bother to
  1357. take it slow, to be gentle, or to mind my comfort. He just pushed it in, all the
  1358. way until his abdomen was pressed up against my butt cheeks. I screamed—I
  1359. couldn’t help it. I never even got my rubber clone in all the way, never mind
  1360. Steve’s rock-hard monster cock. He just laughed, slapped my ass, and then
  1361. started to pump his member in and out of my body. I swear I could feel it
  1362. pushing against my belly like some kicking fetus.
  1363. I didn’t realize I was crying until I looked over at the mirror and saw that
  1364. my mascara was running down my cheeks. Shit. I wasn’t prepared for this—I
  1365. had no idea what it was actually like to be dominated by a man.
  1366. Two men, who had just finished taking a piss, stopped to watch Steve
  1367. pound my asshole. One had a cell phone out, taking a video. The other had a
  1368. mesmerized look on his face. We were like animals at the zoo, on public
  1369. display. “Look at her take that dick,” one of the men said.
  1370. “Holy fuck, she’s so hot,” said the other. “Lucky bastard.”
  1371. Finally, through the pain, I felt that warm glimmer of satisfaction I’d
  1372. come to the club in search of—that confirmation that I was sexy, that I didn’t
  1373. just pass as a woman, that I could pass as a beautiful woman, a woman that
  1374. men wanted to fuck, that men could get jealous over. And just like that, the
  1375. pain seemed to subside. Suddenly, Steve’s monster cock felt incredible,
  1376. euphoric. I started to push my ass back into his pelvis along with every thrust.
  1377. I could practically feel the tip of his dick up at my throat, and I loved it. I
  1378. could feel everything, every throbbing vein, every muscular ridge. I could feel
  1379. it bloating thick as his thrusts became harder, swifter. He was about to come.
  1380. “Fuck!” he screamed.
  1381. Shots of warm, gooey cum filled my asshole. Every heavy shot was its
  1382. own confirmation. The night was a success. I knew it was time to let Taylor
  1383. out permanently. I knew what I needed to do next.
  1384. CHAPTER IV
  1385. After my consultation, it was a three week wait to get into the operating
  1386. room. After a quick, anaesthesia-induced nap, I was the proud owner of a set
  1387. of very convincing B-cups. The doctor said it would take a few days for them
  1388. to “relax” and feel more like real breasts. I thought they were already pretty
  1389. good, but he was right. After a few days, they were totally convincing.
  1390. I went with the B-cups because I knew that I could hide them for work. I
  1391. just needed a tight band, and they were invisible, flat against my chest. I was
  1392. already looking for a new job. Once I found one, I would only be Taylor, no
  1393. more Matt. Matt was quickly fading into obscurity, into a distant memory. It
  1394. was incredible how comfortable I was as Taylor, how little I thought about
  1395. how I looked, what people thought when they saw me. I never had more fun
  1396. in my life shopping for makeup and outfits at the mall. I spent days trying on
  1397. different dresses and skirts. From time to time I had to hide in the dressing
  1398. rooms because my cock would get so hard against the thin, tight fabrics.
  1399. My asshole was also getting more used to being Taylor. Every few nights
  1400. I would venture back down to the club and I wouldn’t have to wait long for
  1401. the men to swarm me. Then, I picked my favourite and made a trip to the
  1402. boys’ room where I got pounded raw. One man even ate out my asshole for a
  1403. good fifteen minutes, which felt incredible.
  1404. I cleaned up my apartment and took out all the obvious evidence,
  1405. replacing it all with girly things like candles and flowers. It was actually quite
  1406. nice. I even got a few throw pillows for the couch, which I accidentally ruined
  1407. a few days after I bought them. I brought a man home who wanted to fuck me
  1408. on the couch. By the end of the night, the pillows were covered in apparent
  1409. teeth marks from where I’d been biting them. The cushions were also ruined
  1410. that night after my date pulled out to come on my back and missed. I had to
  1411. pull the covers off of the cushions and bring them to the drycleaners. I don’t
  1412. think the drycleaners believed me when I said I spilled a milkshake.
  1413. One night, as I was scanning the options in the club, I saw a familiar face.
  1414. My heart sank into my gut. It was April, the girl who owned my virginity, my
  1415. first love. My body became stiff, paralyzed. That familiar self-consciousness I
  1416. felt every day as Matt came back with a vengeance. I should have made a run
  1417. for the exit, but before my mind could process the situation, she saw me. And
  1418. as her eyes locked on me, she became still. Did she recognize me through the
  1419. makeup, through the clothes, through the implants? I stood still like a
  1420. demented deer in the headlights.
  1421. Then, a man stepped in front of me, blocking my view of April. “Hey
  1422. darling,” he said. “Care to dance?”
  1423. “I’m sorry, I can’t right now,” I said, stepping past the man. But April was
  1424. gone, lost in the crowd, or maybe she took off. I needed to give myself a
  1425. chance to breathe, to get a hold over myself. I headed for the bathroom and
  1426. took a long look at myself in the mirror. Could she have recognized me? It
  1427. seemed impossible—even I could hardly recognize me, and April hadn’t seen
  1428. me in nearly a decade. Maybe it wasn’t even April—just a girl that looked
  1429. like her. After all, last I’d heard, April was halfway across the world in
  1430. London.
  1431. Just as an ease began to fill my body, April stepped out from one of the
  1432. bathroom stalls. She walked right up next to me, turned on the sink, and
  1433. started to wash her hands. Once again, I was rendered frozen. It was her—it
  1434. was definitely her. It may have been a decade since I’d last seen her, but that
  1435. was a face I would never forget. She looked up at me and smiled. “Hey,” she
  1436. said with a nod, and then she looked back down at her hands.
  1437. “Hi.” My voice was timid and quiet.
  1438. “I love your shoes. Where did you get them?” she asked.
  1439. My mind drew a blank. It took me a good five seconds before I processed
  1440. her question. “Um, some place downtown. I can’t remember the name.”
  1441. “They’re lovely.” She had a slight British accent to her voice, one she
  1442. must have picked up over the years living in London. She looked up at me
  1443. and smiled and I felt that constriction overtake my muscles. “God,” she said,
  1444. looking me up and down.
  1445. I couldn’t move. If she hadn’t recognized me yet, it was only a matter of
  1446. time. She was standing less than five feet away, staring directly at me in the
  1447. even bathroom lighting. “Huh?” I managed to say through my crippling
  1448. anxiety.
  1449. “I don’t envy you,” she said. “Men must be all over you, all the time. It
  1450. must be exhausting.” She gave me another look, up and down. “You’re
  1451. gorgeous.”
  1452. My cheeks became crimson. “Oh please,” I said.
  1453. “Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so… so beautiful. I’m
  1454. sorry—am I being a weirdo? I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” She
  1455. could obviously see that my face was as red as a beet.
  1456. “No, it’s okay.” She was just as gorgeous as the day we made love. A
  1457. compliment from her meant one hundred times as much as a compliment
  1458. from one of the many horny men crawling around the club.
  1459. “But my God, do you look familiar,” she said, and for a moment my heart
  1460. stopped beating. “Have you ever been to London?”
  1461. After a moment of complete paralysis, I shook my head.
  1462. Then, her eyes became wide and the room became silent. That was it—
  1463. she figured it out. I knew it was only a matter of time, and I was right.
  1464. “Wow,” she said, eyes still wide, still not having blinked. “You…”
  1465. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to run
  1466. out of the bathroom crying. How humiliating, being seen like this by my first
  1467. love.
  1468. “I’m sorry, you just look exactly like someone I know,” she said. She
  1469. didn’t take her eyes off of me. “What did you say your name was?”
  1470. I considered fessing up—it seemed pointless to try and hide it at this
  1471. point. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, I couldn’t let go of the hope that
  1472. she didn’t know who I actually was. There was still hope. “Taylor,” I said.
  1473. “Taylor—I’m April.”
  1474. I managed to smile through my dizziness.
  1475. “Are you okay? You look sick.”
  1476. I was sick. And after quick glance in the mirror, I saw what April was
  1477. seeing—I was greener than fresh broccoli.
  1478. “Is it your stomach? C’mon, I know a place nearby that makes a
  1479. peppermint tea. It’s seriously the best cure for nausea.” She took me by the
  1480. hand and began to lead me out from the bathroom. Her hand was soft, warm,
  1481. and gentle. She led me out from the club, down the street to a little café that
  1482. was totally empty, save for the barista who was half-asleep behind the
  1483. counter. “Just take a seat,” she said, motioning to a small chair at one of the
  1484. small tables. She continued onto the counter to order my tea.
  1485. I pinched my arm and whispered, “Wake up.” I didn’t know whether I
  1486. wanted the whole night to have been a nightmare, or if I wanted to erase the
  1487. entire past two months. I liked being Taylor, but only because being Taylor
  1488. filled me with that comfort and satisfaction I got when I was with April. As
  1489. Taylor, I couldn’t have April. As Taylor, all I would get were the horny men
  1490. looking for a quick fuck in the men’s’ bathroom. I could never have a real,
  1491. meaningful relationship—not without going through with the full
  1492. reassignment surgery and hoping that I could find a man stupid enough to not
  1493. be able to tell the difference between a real pussy and the fake one I would be
  1494. stuck with.
  1495. April placed a large steaming paper cup down in front of me. “Drink that.
  1496. It will make you feel better.” She smiled, and I accepted the drink. She was
  1497. right—at least, a little bit. The tea helped the nausea, but it didn’t help that
  1498. looming dread—dread that I was never going to be happy. I could never have
  1499. April and Taylor. I would have to pick one. And even if I left Taylor behind, I
  1500. might still never have April. As far as I knew, she already had a boyfriend—
  1501. or maybe even a husband. As far as I knew, she was married with kids, just
  1502. visiting for a few days before disappearing again to London or God knows
  1503. where.
  1504. “I know I keep saying this, but you really are beautiful,” she said. “What I
  1505. would do to look half as good as you…”
  1506. “Please. I think you’re beautiful.”
  1507. She laughed. “Were you just at the club alone?”
  1508. I thought for a moment before answering. “Yeah,” I said, and then
  1509. immediately looked away. I was practically admitting I was a slut, just out for
  1510. an easy fuck. Why else would a girl go out to a club crawling with hot young
  1511. men by herself?
  1512. She laughed, clearly seeing through my insecurity. “That’s okay. I was
  1513. there alone too. I’m actually glad all of this happened. At least now I don’t
  1514. feel like such a loser. I’m new to town. I just moved here from England.”
  1515. “Moved?” I asked.
  1516. “Just two days ago. I’m living nearby in some gross hostel. I’m basically
  1517. doing whatever I can to avoid going back there.” She laughed again. Her
  1518. laugh was so adorable, just like when we were in high school. “I grew up here
  1519. —I moved away during high school.”
  1520. “Why did you move back?” I asked.
  1521. She pressed her lips thin and then blushed. “It’s a long story.” I stared at
  1522. her. What was that? Why was she blushing?
  1523. Before I could prod further, the barista walked up to our table. “I’m
  1524. terribly sorry—I’m closing shop for the night, ladies.”
  1525. We stood up, taking our drinks with us. “I guess it was just a matter of
  1526. time before I had to go back to the hostel,” April said.
  1527. I offered up the couch in my apartment. “It’s not the most comfortable
  1528. thing in the world, but it beats a hostel,” I said.
  1529. She smiled and bit her lip. “You really don’t mind?” she asked.
  1530. “Of course not.” We headed back to my apartment. As I slipped my key
  1531. into the front door, I realized my real name was on the apartment directory.
  1532. All she had to do was quickly scan the list and she would see it—then there
  1533. was no backpedalling. Thankfully, I was quick with the door, and she didn’t
  1534. notice the directory. As soon as we were in the apartment, I quickly grabbed
  1535. all of my mail and old paystubs and stuffed them into a drawer. Before she
  1536. even had her heels off, I’d done a full loop around the apartment, making sure
  1537. there was no evidence of my real identity anywhere.
  1538. “Nice place,” she said. “This is exactly what I’m looking for.” She walked
  1539. up to the window and looked down at the club.
  1540. “It’s got a lot of space, but it can get noisy with that club down there,
  1541. especially on weekends.”
  1542. “That’s okay. I can sleep through anything.” She grabbed the base of her
  1543. shirt and lifted it up over her head, leaving her standing in only her bra. Then,
  1544. she reached around her back and unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.
  1545. She had a beautiful set on her—bigger than I remembered—still perky and
  1546. supple. “Oh, that feels good. I’ve been waiting to get that off all night.” She
  1547. stretched out her back and let out the cutest little sigh.
  1548. I stood frozen like an idiot. I could feel a tingle running through my body,
  1549. all the way down between my legs. My cock began to throb and grow. “I’ll
  1550. get you a blanket for the…” Before I could finish my sentence, I noticed the
  1551. couch had no cushions. They were still at the drycleaners. Shit.
  1552. “I don’t mind just sleeping on the floor,” April said with a laugh.
  1553. “No, no. Take my bed. I’ll take the floor. They say it’s good for your back,
  1554. anyway.”
  1555. She stepped into my bedroom and smiled. “Hey, don’t be silly. Your bed is
  1556. huge. We can just share it.” She sat down on the bed and let her body fall
  1557. back. Her perfect tits jiggled and then settled on her chest as she sprawled her
  1558. arms out. “Your bed is amazing. I forgot what a real bed was supposed to feel
  1559. like!” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “God, I’m exhausted.”
  1560. I had to step back into the living room, out of April’s line of sight, to
  1561. adjust my cock in my panties, pressing it up against my thigh. The bulge was
  1562. still apparent, so I slipped into the bathroom and gave it a moment to calm
  1563. down.
  1564. CHAPTER V
  1565. When I slipped back into the bedroom, April was asleep. I crawled into
  1566. the bed next to her. I could feel the warmth emanating off of her body. I could
  1567. smell her subtle but mouth-watering perfume. I couldn’t sleep. My head was
  1568. swirling, still in a state of complete disbelief. Not only was April back in
  1569. town, she was in my bed. But what did it mean? What could I do about it?
  1570. I couldn’t have her.
  1571. She rolled over in her sleep. As she did, the blanket inched down her
  1572. body, revealing her perfect tits. I just wanted to reach out and grab them,
  1573. squeeze them, feel her nipples between my fingers, between my lips. I wanted
  1574. to feel her soft lips between mine, I wanted to kiss her neck.
  1575. Carefully, I reached over and rested my hand on her sternum. I waited a
  1576. moment in case she woke up. I could play it off as if I was asleep. She didn’t
  1577. wake up. So I carefully slid my hand upwards, onto one of her breasts. It was
  1578. soft; her nipple was hard. She remained asleep. Gently, I fondled her chest.
  1579. Fuck, it was so soft, so supple.
  1580. Suddenly, she rolled towards me, her face landing just inches away from
  1581. mine. I retracted my hand as fast as humanly possible. Thankfully, with a
  1582. precious smile, she was still asleep. I brushed a strand of her hair from her
  1583. face. Her skin was perfect, smooth, glowing. She looked like an angel, like
  1584. she hadn’t aged a single day in the past ten years. She reached a hand over me
  1585. and snuggled in close to my body, her warm skin pressed up against me. She
  1586. let out a cute little sigh, still asleep.
  1587. Heart beating fast, I ran my hand up her back, into her hair. I knew I
  1588. should have stopped—I should have rolled over, closed my eyes, and gone to
  1589. sleep. But I didn’t. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to have her. I needed to
  1590. touch her, to feel her body.
  1591. Goddamnit, Matt, get a grip over yourself, I thought. I pulled my hand
  1592. back and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and started counting to ten.
  1593. Suddenly, her lips connected with mine and she kissed me. I froze. She
  1594. ended her kiss with a gentle bite, pulling my bottom lip out a bit before letting
  1595. go. It took me a moment to open my eyes. Her eyes were open, staring into
  1596. mine. Her cheeks were red. She bit her lip. She could probably hear my heart
  1597. chiming into my chest. She looked like she was about to apologize, but I
  1598. didn’t give her the chance.
  1599. I pulled her in close and kissed her, wrapping one hand around her head
  1600. and one around her back. She kissed back, wrapping both of her arms around
  1601. my body, along with her legs. We were locked together, her breasts pressed
  1602. tightly up against mine. Fuck. If this was a dream, I thought, I didn’t want it
  1603. to end. I couldn’t let it end.
  1604. She rolled over me and planted her hands firmly on my chest. She
  1605. squeezed my tits. It felt amazing. She leaned forward and plated her forehead
  1606. against mine and I could hear her breathing heavily, euphorically. I reached up
  1607. and did the same, fondling her chest, playing with her nipples between my
  1608. fingers, feeling them becoming firmer and firmer. If there was a heaven, this
  1609. was it. I had everything I’d ever wanted. I had Taylor and I had April. With
  1610. my hands on her chest, I could feel her heart racing.
  1611. I pulled her panties down swiftly and she began to grind her soft, plump
  1612. pussy against my hardening cock. She moaned and let her head fall back. Her
  1613. the streetlight outside hit her from behind, framing her into a perfect
  1614. silhouette. She continued to moan louder and louder, grinding harder and
  1615. harder against my cock. My hands explored her body. I reached down and
  1616. squeezed her ass, then I reached back up and fondled her tits. Her body was
  1617. perfect, a masterpiece.
  1618. Then she stopped. And I stopped. And the room became still and silent.
  1619. She looked down, eyes wide. My hard cock had sprung out from my
  1620. panties and she was staring right at it. She opened her mouth to speak, but
  1621. nothing came out. I did the same. Then, she looked up at me.
  1622. “I—I’m sorry,” I managed to say.
  1623. She didn’t say anything. She simply remained frozen.
  1624. “I can explain,” I said. “I—I mean, I don’t know what to say.” The reality
  1625. was, I couldn’t explain.
  1626. “You have a cock,” she said.
  1627. “I’m a man—I mean, I used to be a man.”
  1628. “You’re a T-girl,” she said, eyes still wide. Silence overtook the room.
  1629. “You—You’re actually Matt, aren’t you?”
  1630. I couldn’t respond. There was a fist-sized lump stuck in my throat.
  1631. “You—you’re a woman now?”
  1632. “Sort of,” was all I was able to say.
  1633. “You knew who I was, didn’t you?”
  1634. I shrugged my shoulders. “Yes.”
  1635. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
  1636. I wanted to throw up. I was ready to wake up from the nightmare. I was
  1637. ready for all of this to be over. I could move across the country, to a new city,
  1638. one I’d never been before, one where no one knew who I was, where no one
  1639. would ever find me.
  1640. “I couldn’t,” I said. “ I didn’t want you to think I was a freak.”
  1641. “A freak? Why would I think that?” Her look of horror turned into a look
  1642. of pity. I couldn’t decide which was worse. “Of course I don’t think you’re a
  1643. freak.”
  1644. “You don’t?”
  1645. “No. I loved you, Matt.” She smiled. “I’m just glad to see that you’re
  1646. happy. You’re happy like this, right?”
  1647. I thought for a moment, feeling the burn sink into my heart. “I don’t
  1648. know. I loved you. I still love you. I was happy with you.”
  1649. “Then why do you look so sad?” she asked, looking down at me.
  1650. She was perfect, still framed angelically in that orange street light. It was
  1651. heartbreaking, how perfect she was, knowing that no matter who I eventually
  1652. found to be my soul mate would never be as perfect as April. “Because I
  1653. don’t have you anymore.”
  1654. “Yes you do,” she said. She leaned forward and kissed me. This time she
  1655. kissed softly, gently. The kiss was long, filling my heart with a warm glow.
  1656. She leaned back and bit her lip. “I’m a lesbian, Matt.”
  1657. My heart skipped a beat and I had to bite my lip to contain my smile.
  1658. “Call me Taylor,” I said.
  1659. We both laughed and then locked our lips together. The rest of the world
  1660. began to vanish and disappear around us. Nothing else mattered in that
  1661. moment. Nothing else would ever matter.
  1662. Lips still locked, she reached and grabbed my cock in her hand. Her hand
  1663. was warm and soft, fragile but confident. She began to stroke my dick. “I
  1664. wouldn’t be upset if you kept this,” she said softly into my ear.
  1665. I rolled on top of her. “Consider it kept,” I said, lining the tip of it up with
  1666. her tight, wet pussy.
  1667. “Fuck me, Taylor.”
  1668. I pushed my cock inside of her and she let out a loud, uncontrollable
  1669. moan. She loved it—I loved it. The walls of her tight pussy felt incredible
  1670. against my boner as I slid in deeper and deeper.
  1671. “Fuck me,” she said again.
  1672. I started to thrust into her, and I watched her breasts bounce up and down.
  1673. She reached up and grabbed my tits. Ripples of ecstasy pulsed through my
  1674. body as she fondled my nipples.
  1675. “Fuck me, Taylor. Fuck me harder!” she moaned. “I want your cum inside
  1676. of me!”
  1677. I thrust into her as hard and fast as my small body was capable. I could
  1678. hear the sound of my pelvis slapping against her ass. Slap! Slap! Slap! Warm
  1679. juice began to ooze out from her pussy, around my cock. Her head was rolling
  1680. from side to side, eyes closed, lips parted. She was coming.
  1681. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I thrust inside of her one final time and
  1682. began to come. Her arms wrapped around me and she pulled her body in
  1683. tightly against mine. “I fucking love you,” she said. “I missed you so much.”
  1684. “I fucking love you, too.”
  1685. THE END
  1687. Dr. Anders is on the brink of a scientific breakthrough that will
  1688. revolutionize the modern world: Teleportation. His machine has worked with
  1689. small animals and inanimate objects, but it will be years before he gets the goahead
  1690. to test his system on humans. That is, unless he wants to test it on
  1691. himself. He knows it works, so how can he resist?
  1692. The night he decides to give his machine a try, something goes wrong and
  1693. Dr. Anders is surprised when he comes out the other end in the body of June,
  1694. his pretty, young assistant. Her DNA must have gotten into the system
  1695. somehow.
  1696. He’s got a couple of weeks before June is back from vacation to adjust his
  1697. machine and get his body back.
  1698. But a female body comes with female urges. And you know what they say
  1699. —When in Rome.
  1700. CHAPTER I
  1701. I should have been focussed on the biggest accomplishment of my life,
  1702. humankind’s biggest accomplishment of the past one hundred years. But my
  1703. mind was elsewhere that day. Maybe it was the excitement of it all, the fact I
  1704. got less than an hour of sleep the night before. Or maybe it was my assistant,
  1705. June, who showed up to work that morning in a short skirt with nothing
  1706. underneath. I was on the ground, under my machine, making sure all of the
  1707. security bolts were tight when she walked past and I could see her perfect
  1708. little pussy, plump between her legs.
  1709. I thought it was rather strange that she was wearing heels that morning. I
  1710. just assumed she thought the press conference would be that afternoon (hard
  1711. to believe as I told her it wouldn’t be until the next week at the very soonest).
  1712. As the day went on, I swear the buttons of her top were coming undone. She
  1713. was wearing a red bra and she had a nice set of tits on her. I had never noticed
  1714. them before under the long white lab coat she always wore.
  1715. It was starting to become plainly obvious that she wanted to fuck me.
  1716. I thought that was strange, as she’d never shown any romantic interest in
  1717. me before—at least, not that I’d ever noticed. Maybe it was the fact I was
  1718. about to be the most famous scientist on the planet, the man who invented
  1719. teleportation. Or maybe I’d just never noticed.
  1720. My machines had been in the works for six years. And after hundreds of
  1721. thousands of hours of labour and countless failed trials, my machines finally
  1722. worked. A week before, I successfully teleported a mouse from one end of my
  1723. lab to the other. Since then, I’d successfully teleported dozens of mice, among
  1724. other things. Never a human, though.
  1725. It was a completely wireless system. The two machines could be
  1726. anywhere in the world, anywhere in the universe, and the teleportation would
  1727. take the same amount of time: 0.00026 seconds. 0.00026 seconds was the
  1728. amount of time the accelerator took to speed up the vibration of the particles
  1729. to the point they could be teleported. It was all based on the theory of
  1730. quantum entanglement and DNA analysis, but I won’t bore you with the
  1731. details. The point is, the things worked.
  1732. Before I could take my invention to the press, I still needed to test the
  1733. machines on humans. To avoid a mountain of legal ramifications and
  1734. insurance liability, I was going to be my own first subject. I had, after all,
  1735. designed the machines to be operable from both inside and outside, so the test
  1736. could be done solo. Within the year, I knew that my machines would
  1737. completely replace cars, planes, trains, and every other form of transportation,
  1738. save for the purely recreation forms of transportation. The world would be
  1739. cleaner and exponentially more efficient. I would, without doubt, be the next
  1740. recipient of the Nobel Prize in physics. Just saying.
  1741. So I couldn’t exactly blame June for wanting to fuck me so badly, so
  1742. obviously. Besides, after over half of a decade working together, it’s bound to
  1743. happen. Humans are, after all, animals, beings of lust and desire. She
  1744. probably couldn’t help herself.
  1745. I was filling out my daily diagnostics reports when June came into my
  1746. office, cleavage out, legs long, smooth, and perfect. She lingered in the
  1747. doorway, waiting for me to start the conversation. “What is it, June?” I asked.
  1748. “The lab mice are all fed and I cleaned all of their cages, Dr. Anders,” she
  1749. said. She continued to linger. Her perfectly smooth legs were surprisingly
  1750. distracting.
  1751. “Thank you, June.” I returned to my notes, but she remained in the
  1752. doorway.
  1753. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Anything at all?” When I looked
  1754. back up, she was biting her lip slightly.
  1755. “I don’t think there is. All of the review reports are sorted into folders?” I
  1756. tried to look back to my notes but all I could see was the color of flesh in my
  1757. peripheral vision.
  1758. “All sorted and labelled, with copies in the fire-safe room.” The fire-safe
  1759. room was a room in the basement, completely encased in iron, like a bank
  1760. vault—indestructible. A nuclear bomb could have landed on the building and
  1761. everything in the fire-safe room would be totally fine.
  1762. “Well, I guess you can call it an early day and head home. Go and get
  1763. ready for that big vacation you’ve been talking about. Thanks for the work,
  1764. June.”
  1765. She lingered. “So when are you going to test the machine on a human?”
  1766. she asked. “I mean, do you need to find volunteers. I bet there’s a lot of red
  1767. tape and paperwork for that, huh?” June was completely oblivious to the fact I
  1768. was going to test the machine on myself that night, after she left for home. It
  1769. was better that she was oblivious, so she wouldn’t try to stop me. It was an
  1770. inherently dangerous venture. Throughout earlier trials, a number of brave
  1771. mice didn’t survive the blink from one machine to the other. It wasn’t until
  1772. very recently that the devices successfully moved organic matter from one to
  1773. the other without killing it, turning it inside out, or leaving half of it behind.
  1774. June and I had cleaned some very gnarly messes out from those machines
  1775. over the years.
  1776. As soon as June was gone, I would be setting up my cameras and
  1777. warming up the machines (they took about thirty minutes to warm up and
  1778. connect to the various servers and whatnot). If it worked—and I was about
  1779. 99% certain it would work—I would do it again the next morning, in front of
  1780. every major news outlet in the country. Within twenty-four hours, I would be
  1781. the most renown scientist on the planet.
  1782. “Okay. Maybe I’ll just give the place one last do-over,” she said with a
  1783. smile, and then she turned away and started back towards the lab.
  1784. It was twenty minutes later when I went to check on things that I found
  1785. her inside of the departure-machine, on her back, legs spread wide, pussy out.
  1786. She’d been waiting for me. She smiled nervously but said nothing. Her
  1787. cheeks were red, adorable. She was putting a lot on the line: her career, her
  1788. reputation. Just for a chance to fuck. She must have really wanted it.
  1789. “June, this is highly unprofessional,” I said. I heard my voice crack and I
  1790. could feel a warmth rise up to my cheeks. It was hard to look away from her
  1791. perfect lips and her incredible, perky tits.
  1792. “Is it so bad to be unprofessional every once in a while?” It was hard to
  1793. deny that face—and that pussy, those plump, pink little lips. I couldn’t
  1794. remember the last time I’d had sex—years. Maybe not since before I started
  1795. this crazy project.
  1796. She said nothing else. I entered the departure-terminal and sunk down to
  1797. my knees. My first instinct was to feel her slit, to run my fingers up the length
  1798. of her snatch. It was warm and damp. She sighed softly as my fingertips
  1799. caressed her clit. My heart jumped. “I don’t know if this is such a great idea,
  1800. June,” I said. I liked June. She’d been nothing but great to me over the years
  1801. we’d been working together. I didn’t want to risk everything over a fuck, over
  1802. a moment of lust and desire.
  1803. She said nothing. Instead, she reached down, grabbed my hand, pushing it
  1804. firmly against her pussy. I slipped my middle finger inside of her and she
  1805. moaned. I could feel my cock hardening against my pants. She was beautiful.
  1806. I’d always known she was a good-looking girl, but I’d never realized she was
  1807. so beautiful.
  1808. I crawled over top of her and our lips locked together. My hand stayed
  1809. down between her legs, under her skirt. I continued to finger her pussy. Her
  1810. tongue moved around my mouth expertly, sensually. I was completely
  1811. hypnotized. My body became relaxed. When was the last time I’d been this
  1812. relaxed? I wondered. For once in six years, I wasn’t thinking about my work,
  1813. about revolutionizing science, revolutionizing the world as we knew it. I was
  1814. only thinking about her, about her soft lips, her perky tits, and her wet slit.
  1815. Her hips rose off of the ground and I found myself slinking down her
  1816. body, passing her chest, her abdomen, her pelvis. My lips pressed between her
  1817. legs and I started to eat her out. It was as if someone else was in control of my
  1818. body, pulling on the strings of my marionette. Lust is a powerful overlord,
  1819. capable of reducing any man to his primal instincts. I was like a witness,
  1820. trapped inside of my body, yet somehow I was making every decision myself.
  1821. I slipped my tongue into her hole, eliciting another long, soft moan. Her
  1822. fingers nestled into my hair and she pulled me in tight. She was moist, wet,
  1823. ready. I grabbed her butt cheeks in both hands and squeezed. My God, she
  1824. was soft. So smooth, so perfect. How had I gone six years without touching
  1825. her, without throwing myself at her. How had I not made her mine?
  1826. Moments later, my pants were on the ground and I had her arms pinned at
  1827. her sides. The tip of my bare, erect cock pressed up against her warm, damp
  1828. hole. Her eyes lit up. She bit her lip. She wanted it so badly so how could I
  1829. deprive her? I pushed in and she gasped. It felt incredible. The warm walls of
  1830. her pussy hugging my member tightly, securely. I could feel it breathing, it’s
  1831. own entity, squeezing my cock one moment, releasing the next, then repeating
  1832. the process. I slid in deep. Her knees rose up to my sides. She squirmed but I
  1833. held her tight, in place.
  1834. Then we fucked. I pumped my manhood into her over and over, harder
  1835. and harder, faster and faster. Her head rocked from side to side, but her eyes
  1836. remained open, locked on mine. Our foreheads touched. Her pussy clenched
  1837. my cock tighter as she came closer to her climax. My cock bulged against her
  1838. tight walls as I came close to mine. Fuck, was she ever beautiful, her tits
  1839. bouncing up and down, nipples erect. She screamed out loud and I could feel
  1840. a rush of warmth against my cock. She was squirting.
  1841. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I pulled out, letting her squirt spray
  1842. everywhere. Then, my cock began to unload on her belly, on her tits, on her
  1843. chin, blast after blast. Through heavy breaths I caught her smiling, biting her
  1844. lip, as if after six years she’d finally gotten exactly what she wanted. And I
  1845. have to say, it felt fucking incredible.
  1846. But after six years, I still needed to get what I wanted, and I was so close
  1847. to having it. As soon as she was dressed and on her way out the doors, I
  1848. booted up the system, flicked on the servers, and turned on the cameras. The
  1849. countdown had begun. I was going to be the first human to teleport from one
  1850. point in space to another.
  1851. CHAPTER II
  1852. My system was carefully designed to recognize human DNA. I spent
  1853. nearly a year training the computer to recognize and distinguish different
  1854. DNA patterns so to avoid any catastrophic failings. For example, if I was
  1855. teleporting a mouse, and the system was contaminated with a foreign DNA
  1856. strand (such as a human hair or even something as small as a human skin
  1857. cell), and the system was not be able to distinguish the two DNA samples,
  1858. then it would output some human/mouse monstrosity, which would almost
  1859. certainly die within seconds for more reasons than I feel I need to list. So with
  1860. my system, if it recognizes the DNA of a human, a mouse, a fly, and an
  1861. octopus, it will analyse each separately and output a human, a mouse, a fly,
  1862. and an octopus—separately. Simple, right?
  1863. Well, I made one big mistake. I trained my system to distinguish human
  1864. DNA from the DNA of other organisms, but I never trained my system to
  1865. distinguish human DNA from other human DNA—such a thing would be
  1866. nearly impossible without hundreds of millions of lines of coding. The
  1867. thought never even occurred to me.
  1868. So it wasn’t until after I stripped down, stepped into the machine, locked
  1869. the door, pressed the initiate-button, saw the flash of light, stumbled out the
  1870. other end, and then looked into the mirror to make sure I was still intact, that I
  1871. realized I’d made that very big mistake. Staring back at me in the mirror was
  1872. not me. I was staring at June, completely naked. I stood frozen for a moment,
  1873. and then I looked down and noticed the breasts, the pussy, the long, smooth
  1874. legs.
  1875. The teleportation was a success, sort of, aside from the fact my body was
  1876. completely transformed along the way. How could such a thing happen? What
  1877. had I done wrong? I didn’t have to think long before I figured it out.
  1878. June’s DNA was in the departure-terminal with me. The system analysed
  1879. both of our DNAs, recognized them as human, and outputted a single person.
  1880. Why had it chosen June’s physical DNA over mine? That, I couldn’t be so
  1881. sure of, though I had a theory: my system, like the human body during fetal
  1882. development, understood a human should have a single set of X and Y
  1883. chromosomes. Given the presence of multiple X chromosomes, it made the
  1884. simple decision to discard my physical DNA. Perhaps it was a totally random
  1885. decision, or perhaps it just found her DNA a fraction of a second before it
  1886. found mine—an order of operations—who knows.
  1887. As the initial shock wore off, I couldn’t help but smile. Despite the very
  1888. obvious blip, the machines worked. I was the first human to successfully
  1889. teleport from one point in space to another without physically moving. It was
  1890. a ground-breaking achievement for humanity. It would possibly take an entire
  1891. year (or more) of coding to fix the cross-contaminating issue, but I knew I
  1892. could fix it. I’d already spent six years on the machines. What was another
  1893. year? It was a small issue.
  1894. But the issue at hand was the obvious one. How would I get my body
  1895. back? I could go back to the departure-terminal with a sample of my own
  1896. DNA—my original DNA—and hope that it outputs me as me again, as Dr.
  1897. Anders and not as my assistant, June. I looked around the lab. Where would I
  1898. get a sample of my own DNA? The clothes I’d shed next to the departureterminal
  1899. likely had my skin cells on them, but I couldn’t put my clothes into
  1900. the terminal—not without risking being spliced with my clothes (it hadn’t
  1901. happened in any recent trials, but I wasn’t willing to take the risk). I could try
  1902. to extract my cells from my clothes and place them in the terminal with me,
  1903. but then the system would just be forced with the same decision it had before
  1904. —and seeing as computers are built for predictability, I could only imagine
  1905. the result would be the same. If I was going to get my body back, I needed to
  1906. address the issue in the system’s programming, which, at best, would take a
  1907. couple of weeks.
  1908. My phone buzzed. It was June. “At the airport now. See you in a few
  1909. weeks!” Thank God, the stars were aligning for me.
  1910. I couldn’t imagine the catastrophe of June coming into the lab and finding
  1911. herself staring face to face with herself. I had essentially become a perfect
  1912. clone of June. The philosophical implications were incredible—a whole other
  1913. topic for another time.
  1914. I looked into the mirror again at myself, at June. My heart skipped a beat.
  1915. Can you imagine, looking in the mirror every morning at that face? That
  1916. beauty? I grabbed my breasts in my hands and squeezed and a warm jolt
  1917. buzzed through my body. I reached down and touched my clit—my God, was
  1918. it sensitive! I nearly jumped into the air. So surreal, I thought. So incredible.
  1919. This was a scientific breakthrough of its own. Imagine the medical
  1920. implications! You could give a sick man a completely healthy body. Women
  1921. would no longer need plastic surgery. They could simply choose a model
  1922. from a catalogue and transform. Sexual reassignment would be
  1923. revolutionized. Men could become the most beautiful woman with nothing
  1924. but a skin cell or a hair. A woman could become any man she wanted.
  1925. Scientists would be marvelling over these machines for centuries.
  1926. But for now, I was tired, ready to pack it in for the night. There was a
  1927. couch in my office that pulled out—that would be my bed for the next little
  1928. while, until I solved my little body-swap conundrum. Before turning off the
  1929. lights and retiring to my office, I collected a DNA sample from my shed
  1930. clothes. I was going to need it once I finally located the glitch in my system,
  1931. if I was going to be turned back into Dr. Anders again.
  1933. The strangest thing happened after I lay down on my couch-bed.
  1934. I looked over at my wall where my degrees and accomplishments hung in
  1935. frames. Under my masters’ degree was a framed photo of me with one of my
  1936. old co-workers, back when I worked at a major tech firm. His name was Riley
  1937. Sanderson, a slightly younger man than I, just a few years younger than me.
  1938. Riley and I were the head researchers in a quantum processor research
  1939. project. We created a computer processor that could run at five-thousand
  1940. times the speed of an analogue processor, and it could be made to be less than
  1941. half the size. Those same processors were inside of my teleportation machines
  1942. —a vital component when scanning millions of cells at once. Since I left the
  1943. firm, Riley had worked his way up to CEO and had made himself a very rich
  1944. man. We still kept in touch. He was the key investor in the teleportation
  1945. endeavour.
  1946. But when I looked up at his picture, I felt a warm glow flow through my
  1947. body. I found myself mesmerized by his blue eyes, his broad shoulders, his
  1948. scruffy hair. He was handsome, beautiful even. It was hard to look away. I
  1949. tried to shake the alien urges I was feeling, but they were only growing
  1950. stronger. These urges were different than anything I’d ever experienced as a
  1951. man, as Dr. Anders. These urges were stronger, empowering my whole body.
  1952. I had no idea how to fight them, how to control them.
  1953. My fingers found their way to my bare breasts. They squeezed and that
  1954. warm glow grew stronger. I let my head fall back and I closed my eyes. My
  1955. mind was spinning in this new euphoria, this foreign sensation. It was overstimulating,
  1956. like a new drug rushing through my veins. I could practically feel
  1957. Riley over top of me, naked, his hard, veiny erection towering over my
  1958. abdomen. I could practically feel his big hands grasping my thighs, spreading
  1959. my legs wide. The tip of his cock presses up against my pussy and it’s huge
  1960. and intimidating but still I want it so badly. I’m practically pushing myself
  1961. down onto it. I can feel a dribble of moisture making its way out from my slit,
  1962. down my butthole. I’m so wet, so ready for him.
  1963. He’s strong—incredibly strong, or maybe I’m just weak. He pushes
  1964. himself inside of me and my body surrenders. I’m his to do as he pleases. I
  1965. can practically feel him sliding in and out of me, the thick veins and ridges of
  1966. his cock massaging my clit, massaging the walls of my pussy. It isn’t long
  1967. before I’m a complete mess, practically a limp doll on the floor that he’s
  1968. fucking. It feels so good, so fucking good. My wrists hurt from his grip, my
  1969. back hurts from being slammed against the ground, but I could care less. I’m
  1970. swirling in a state of uncontrolled euphoria as his long, slick member slides in
  1971. and out of my body.
  1972. Then I feel it, him coming inside of me. It’s enough to make me scream in
  1973. uncondensed pleasure. I squirm, my head rolls from side to side. And when I
  1974. opened my eyes, I realized I’d had my hand between my legs, fingers deep in
  1975. my slit. My other hand was on my breast, squeezing, fondling my nipple.
  1976. If that was what a female orgasm felt like, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go
  1977. back to being a man. Hell, that was just an orgasm with a couple of fingers
  1978. and a little bit of imagination. What about an orgasm with a man? A real,
  1979. tangible man, not just an imaginary vision, a sleep-deprived hallucination.
  1980. I shook my head. I needed to keep my focus straight, on task. I couldn’t
  1981. lose sight of my objective, to complete my machines, to release my invention
  1982. to the world, to revolutionize science. The sexual experimentation could wait.
  1983. Hell, with my invention, people could change from male to female and then
  1984. back again on a complete whim, and still be home in time for dinner. All you
  1985. needed was a tiny DNA sample and you could experience life as anyone you
  1986. wanted to—at least down to a physical level. You couldn’t just become Brad
  1987. Pitt and be acting on a multi-million dollar set tomorrow, of course.
  1988. There would have to be limitations set into the machines, regulations to
  1989. stop imposters and imposers. There would have to be permissions and
  1990. releases and a whole myriad of waivers and paperwork. Without regulation,
  1991. any pervert could easily change into his target lady’s husband and the lady
  1992. would be none the wiser. It was a terrifying thought, to say the least.
  1993. The next morning I was awoken by a loud knocking at the lab door. It
  1994. took me a moment to piece together the previous night, to remember why
  1995. there was a beautiful pair of tits on my chest. But as soon as everything came
  1996. together, I sprung to my feet, heart racing. Whoever was at the door was no
  1997. stranger. I knew everyone with a key into the building. If it was June, she had
  1998. a key into the lab. It would be impossible to hide.
  1999. Butt-naked, I ran with light feet to the door and gazed out the peep-hole.
  2000. Standing on the other side of the door was Riley Sanderson. My heart sank
  2001. into my gut. What was he doing here? I hadn’t seen Riley in over a year, since
  2002. he wrote his last investment cheque. Riley was a major investor in my
  2003. teleportation machines. It was through him that I got all of my hardware, my
  2004. processors, and so on. He had more money than he knew what to do with, and
  2005. he wanted to be a part of history as much as any scientist.
  2006. I ran to the backroom and grabbed one of June’s lab coats. I didn’t have
  2007. any other clothes to put on. My own clothes—the clothes of Dr. Anders—
  2008. were far too big for my small, female body. Hopefully, Riley wouldn’t
  2009. question why my legs were bare under my lab coat. Hopefully he wouldn’t
  2010. even notice—though that would be difficult seeing as June had impeccable
  2011. legs that no man could go without noticing. He knocked again.
  2012. “I’m coming, hold on,” I called out. I was surprised by the sound of my
  2013. own voice, of June’s voice coming out from my body. I hesitated and then
  2014. said a few lines to myself. “Whoa. I sound like her. I sound exactly like her.”
  2015. Until that moment, I hadn’t taken my voice for a test run. I hadn’t even
  2016. thought to.
  2017. I opened the door and Riley was standing there with a confused look on
  2018. his face. “June?” he said.
  2019. “Hi Mr. Sanderson.” My voice was rattled, my hands were shaking. I tried
  2020. to collect myself, but couldn’t quite manage it. I had this crippling fear that he
  2021. could see right through me, see that I was actually Dr. Anders inside of June’s
  2022. body. It was a preposterous thought, of course—no sane human would assume
  2023. such a thing. But still, that fear lingered.
  2024. “I thought you said you were on your way to the airport,” he said and then
  2025. he stared at me in silence, with that confused look still on his face.
  2026. “The airport?”
  2027. “When you called earlier, to let me know the machines were done, you
  2028. said you were headed out on a vacation.” He stepped past me into the lab and
  2029. started to remove his gloves and coat. I wanted to stop him, but as June, I
  2030. couldn’t. Even as Dr. Anders, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He was
  2031. the money behind the project. The money gets to do whatever it wants. That’s
  2032. the way it goes. Had I tried to stop him, he would have made sure June was
  2033. out of a job by the end of the day.
  2034. “Oh right, I realized I had to get a few things done here before I left,” I
  2035. said. I knew it sounded stupid but I had nothing else. I had no idea what June
  2036. had already told Riley, no idea what kind of knowledge base I was working
  2037. with. “I rescheduled for tomorrow,” I said.
  2038. “Last second re-schedule. Must be very important. In Anders here?” He
  2039. tossed his coat onto a hook and then looked around.
  2040. “Not yet. I think he’ll be in later this afternoon. He was here late last
  2041. night, working.”
  2042. “Yeah, you told me on the phone. But I didn’t think Anders slept.” He
  2043. laughed. “I was hoping to see these machines in action. You know, before the
  2044. big press release.”
  2045. “I don’t think there is any planned press release. And it’s not quite ready
  2046. to be shown yet.” I caught myself talking as Dr. Anders and not as June.
  2047. He looked at me with that increasingly familiar look of confusion. “Wait.
  2048. You said on the phone it was done and it worked.”
  2049. I could feel my cheeks turning crimson. “Well, yeah it works. Just not
  2050. with humans—I mean, it’s not tested with humans. We’ve had successful tests
  2051. on mice and dogs.”
  2052. “I’d like to see that.” He wandered around the lab, inspecting all of the
  2053. machinery. He nodded at some things, as if he agreed with my methods, and
  2054. then he questioned other things, as if he would have done them differently. Of
  2055. course, knowing Riley, he was sure he could have done everything slightly
  2056. better than I had. If I wasn’t careful, he would start tinkering with things,
  2057. setting me back days, weeks, even months.
  2058. “Please don’t touch that,” I said as he reached for the data-intake housing
  2059. unit, where the machines stored and transmitted DNA information. It was a
  2060. sensitive unit—the exact unit I needed to work on if I was going to get my
  2061. real, male body back. All he had to do was sever a single of the thousand
  2062. wires looping out of the system and I had another month of work on my plate.
  2063. He looked at me with surprise and then he laughed.
  2064. “I’d really like to see these things in operation. Maybe you can show
  2065. me?” He looked me up and down, spending an extra moment down at my
  2066. legs. I realized in that moment that I was barefoot. He didn’t question it, but
  2067. I’m sure it took him by surprise. It was highly unusual, after all, to be
  2068. barefoot in a laboratory—especially one where contamination could be a
  2069. serious issue.
  2070. “Um,” I said. If I said no, I knew he would probably end up waiting
  2071. around for Dr. Anders to show up, poking at things, tinkering with control
  2072. boards. If I just demonstrated the machine using a lab mouse, I had a feeling
  2073. he would be content and on his merry way. Then I could get to work, locating
  2074. the glitch in my DNA storage and transmission system. “Okay, sure. I’ll grab
  2075. a mouse.”
  2076. “No, no. Let me pick the mouse. So I know it’s not some kind of rouse,”
  2077. he said, walking over to the row of cages. He picked a black mouse with a
  2078. distinct white spot on its side. “This one. Where do I put it?” He looked
  2079. around the room. Thank God, I thought, something like this never happened
  2080. when June was here alone. June would have let Riley walk all over the place,
  2081. sticking mice in whatever the hell he wanted.
  2082. “Give it to me,” I said, taking the mouse from him and walking over to the
  2083. departure-terminal. I explained the system to him in dumbed-down terms. He
  2084. could have understood the highly-technical terms, but I didn’t want to give
  2085. away my guise. I had to show him just enough to make him trust me, but not
  2086. enough that he suspected anything. If a lab assistant started to explain
  2087. quantum entanglement, Riley would have known something was up—though
  2088. I’m sure he wouldn’t have believed I was actually stuck in a clone of June’s
  2089. body. I could have straight up told him I was trapped in a clone of June’s body
  2090. and he probably wouldn’t have believed it.
  2091. I booted up the systems and he wandered around while things warmed up.
  2092. He kept an eye on me, making sure I wasn’t slipping an identical mouse into
  2093. the output terminal. Even when I was sitting stationary, he kept his eye on me.
  2094. Maybe he wasn’t trying to catch me in the act. Maybe he was just admiring
  2095. my body—June’s body. Maybe he could tell I didn’t have a shirt—or even a
  2096. bra or panties—on underneath my lab coat. Maybe he could tell that all there
  2097. was between him and my pussy was that white lab coat. Or maybe he could
  2098. tell, subconsciously, that I’d fantasized about him, just the night before. That
  2099. I’d imagined him holding me down and fucking me senseless. Maybe he
  2100. wanted to fuck me senseless.
  2101. We were alone, after all, in that lab. There was no one else in the building,
  2102. as far as I knew and as far as he knew. The other labs were generally empty
  2103. on weekends. He could do whatever he wanted to me and no one would have
  2104. heard a thing. He could have pounded my pussy out in the building’s lobby
  2105. area, and I could have had an orgasm at the top of my lungs and no one would
  2106. have any clue.
  2107. The machine beeped, letting me know it was ready for the demonstration.
  2108. “It’s ready, Mr. Sanderson.” He walked up behind me, close enough that I
  2109. could feel his presence, feel his much larger body, his broad shoulders
  2110. towering over me. “I’ve placed the mouse in the terminal. Now I’ll close the
  2111. hatch.” I closed it.
  2112. “What does this button do?” he asked, reaching past me and pointing at a
  2113. button on the system dashboard. His chest was pressed against my back and
  2114. his chin was almost touching my cheekbone.
  2115. “That’s to test the object’s density. It’s obsolete with the new firmware,
  2116. but I—I mean, Dr. Anders hasn’t updated the dashboard. A few of these
  2117. buttons are obsolete.”
  2118. “You smell nice, June. I thought scientists weren’t supposed to wear
  2119. perfume. Can’t that mess with the experiments?”
  2120. “I’m not wearing any perfume,” I said. I could feel his presence becoming
  2121. closer, bigger.
  2122. “Really? Strange.”
  2123. I hesitated, then continued with the demonstration. I could feel a warm
  2124. surge coming on, a similar euphoria to what I felt the night before, before my
  2125. new instincts or my new hormones or my new whatever it was took over. But
  2126. I had to keep myself in check. I had to be professional for June’s sake, for my
  2127. own sake. I couldn’t have my assistant throwing herself at my biggest
  2128. investor. Even if it was actually me and not my assistant, Riley Sanderson
  2129. didn’t know that. “It’s very simple. Once the specimen is enclosed in the unit,
  2130. you press this button and that’s it.” I motioned towards a large, red button.
  2131. “Can I press the button?” he asked, reaching further past me for the
  2132. button, pressing his body against mine.
  2133. I swear I could feel the bulge of his cock against my butt. It was hard, or
  2134. maybe that was my imagination. Maybe that was my swirling emotions
  2135. fooling me. “Sure,” I said, and he slowly pressed the button.
  2136. After a flash, the mouse disappeared. I pulled myself away from his
  2137. presence and started towards the output terminal. He followed. “And just like
  2138. that, the mouse has been teleported?” he asked.
  2139. “Just like that.” I had the urge to explain it to him, but I held back. The
  2140. explanation could wait until I was back in my own body.
  2141. I picked the mouse up and showed it to him. He shook his head and
  2142. smiled, but didn’t seem too impressed. At least, he didn’t seem to be too
  2143. interested in the mouse. He was looking at me, smiling, with that look in his
  2144. eye that suggested there was more on his mind. “It’s a shame your vacation
  2145. plans had to change,” he said.
  2146. “Hey, it happens. If there’s nothing else that you need—”
  2147. “—You know, you’re really very beautiful, June. I can see why Anders
  2148. likes to keep you around here. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re
  2149. incredible useful to him.”
  2150. I blushed. I may have held onto my own mind, my own consciousness,
  2151. but my brain was almost certainly a DNA-exact clone of June’s brain. All of
  2152. her urges, her hormones, her instincts—everything controlled by the brain—I
  2153. was now feeling. And it was frighteningly overwhelming. I couldn’t
  2154. understand how women could control the overwhelming attraction that was
  2155. now pulling me towards Riley. He was so handsome, so irresistible. There
  2156. was an aura about him—a dominating aura, a powerful aura. He was a
  2157. powerful man, and there was something incredibly irresistible about that,
  2158. something I’d never even noticed as a man, as Dr. Anders.
  2159. He reached out and placed his hand on my arm. Then, he laughed. “You
  2160. wouldn’t be naked under that lab coat, would you?”
  2161. My face was now a dark red. “Naked?” I said, looking down, trying to see
  2162. what evidence he had. My nipples were hard, pushing against the thin white
  2163. fabric of the lab coat. That, with my bare legs and bare feet, made it
  2164. somewhat obvious. After a moment of trying to string together a sentence out
  2165. of stuttered fragments, I laughed. “It’s a long story. I—”
  2166. Before I could finish my inevitably rambling sentence, he stepped forward
  2167. and kissed me. A swirl of conflicted emotions rendered me frozen. I may have
  2168. been in a woman’s body, but I was a man—a straight man. Straight men don’t
  2169. kiss other men. But at the same time, I was in a woman’s body, being driven
  2170. by a woman’s impulses. And what made those impulses any different than the
  2171. impulses I felt in my own body? The lines were faded, black and white turned
  2172. to grey and I was lost somewhere in the middle.
  2173. The female impulses won the battle. I melted into him, letting him wrap
  2174. his arms around me. He was strong. I could have let my body go limp and I
  2175. would have stayed in the same exact place. He wouldn’t have even noticed a
  2176. thing. He let my tongue explore his mouth, and then his tongue explored
  2177. mine. The next five minutes all seemed to buzz by in a flash: his hands
  2178. exploring my body, my lab coat falling to the floor, me falling to my knees,
  2179. his cock springing out as I pulled his pants down. I hesitated with his cock in
  2180. my hand. I’d never had a cock in my hand—not that wasn’t my own, anyway.
  2181. His was big, bigger than mine, and way thicker. Or maybe it just seemed that
  2182. way because my feminine hands were smaller, more delicate.
  2183. “Go ahead, baby,” he said, slipping his hand behind my head, pulling it
  2184. towards his throbbing member.
  2185. Gently, I parted my lips and let the cock slip in. It was warm. I could feel
  2186. his veins pumping blood into his cock, making it harder, somehow longer. I
  2187. gagged at first before getting my rhythm. “Just like that,” he said. Honestly,
  2188. he was doing most of the work, my head in his hand. He pulled me in and
  2189. pushed me off, eventually getting both of his hands into the mix, one on each
  2190. side of my head.
  2191. He slowly started to thrust himself forward, sinking his cock further
  2192. towards my throat. “Just like that,” he said again. His head fell back and he let
  2193. out a long, deep sigh. I was doing something right. He was apparently in a
  2194. state of bliss. I worked his shaft with my hand as I sucked him off.
  2195. “Finger your pussy, baby,” he said. I looked up and he was looking down
  2196. at me with a expectant expression. His gaze was commanding, hard to deny. I
  2197. didn’t deny it. I reached down and started to stroke my pussy with the tips of
  2198. my fingers. He watched while I continued to suck him off. “Stick them in,” he
  2199. commanded, so I did. Two of my fingers slipped into my body. “Rub your clit
  2200. with the other hand.”
  2201. Riley Sanderson had gotten much bossier since I’d last spoken with him,
  2202. or maybe this was his way with women. Likely the latter. As a man, I would
  2203. have punched him right in the face, had he commanded me like that. But as a
  2204. woman, it was different. There was something so tantalizing about being told
  2205. what to do and how to do it. I wanted to be his. I wanted to please him.
  2206. Pleasing him got me off, got my blood flowing, got that warm energy rushing
  2207. through my body.
  2208. I started to moan, gagged by his cock, which was still sinking deeper and
  2209. deeper into my throat. “Don’t stop,” he said, and I didn’t. I was jerking him
  2210. off quickly, sucking ferociously. His legs quivered. I could feel his member
  2211. bloating in my mouth. He was going to come.
  2212. “C’mon, baby,” I said, surrendering to every impulse inside of me. “Come
  2213. on my face.” I was completely out of control of myself. My hormones were in
  2214. the driver’s seat. That warm energy all started to rush down to my pussy. The
  2215. sensation was powerful, consuming. I came, pulling my head back and
  2216. screaming out loud.
  2217. That was enough for him, too. His cock began to blast my face with hot,
  2218. sticky cum. He held my head in place, making sure I didn’t miss a single shot,
  2219. and I didn’t. I was covered, soaked, dripping. I could taste his sweet cum on
  2220. my lips.
  2221. As soon as he caught his breath he said, “I should be going.” He had a
  2222. smile on his face that didn’t disappear as he pulled up his pants and headed
  2223. for the door. “We should do that again sometime. Maybe when you’re back
  2224. from your vacation.”
  2225. I smiled. “Maybe.”
  2226. Then he was gone. I cleaned up in the bathroom and then came out again.
  2227. I noticed my DNA sample sitting on a desk. I wondered if I wanted to go back
  2228. to my old self, my Dr. Anders self. Or maybe I liked being a woman. I smiled
  2229. —I could get used to those intense orgasms.
  2230. CHAPTER IV
  2231. It was ten tediously long days before I got anywhere in my coding. I was
  2232. trying to find a single line of code within millions of lines. But it wasn’t as
  2233. simple as a quick search of the code, I had to go through it all, line by line,
  2234. because I wasn’t looking for a keyword, I was looking for a blip in the order
  2235. of operations. My theory was that the order of operations was what had
  2236. caused the error in the system, to choose June’s DNA over mine when making
  2237. the switch. Long story short, I found the line of code that I thought was
  2238. responsible. My program was set to make a series of millisecond-fast
  2239. decisions in an order, rather than every decision at once after analysing all of
  2240. the data. A single character was all I needed to delete from my code to
  2241. address the issue. Once the change was made, I had to install the update into
  2242. my machines and reboot everything. It was a procedure which took about
  2243. twelve hours of processing. I went to sleep and woke up with less than an
  2244. hour left on the reboot.
  2245. While I was waiting, a noise caught my attention. It was a faint jingle and
  2246. then a metallic cranking. I looked to the door. It was someone unlocking the
  2247. door. Shit. I jumped to my feet in a panic. The door started to open and I
  2248. started towards my office. But I was too late. “Hello?” the familiar female
  2249. voice said. I was in my office but I’d already been caught. June saw a woman
  2250. sprinting across the room. Maybe she hadn’t recognized that woman to be a
  2251. spitting image of herself, but there was no way I could get out of the situation
  2252. without her seeing me. There was also no way of lying my way out.
  2253. So with a large pit deep in my stomach, I stepped out from the office and
  2254. her expression dropped. “What the hell? Who are you? Why—Why do you
  2255. look like me?” She took a step back towards the door.
  2256. “I can explain everything. Please, just listen.” And so I explained what
  2257. had happened and how I’d been working towards fixing the issue. It took a
  2258. few minutes for the explanation to permeate her shock, but ultimately the
  2259. explanation seemed to give her some peace of mind. “So you retained your
  2260. own consciousness but your body changed completely? That’s so…
  2261. fascinating.” She walked up to me and then felt my skin, making sure I was
  2262. real and not some figment of her imagination. “Incredible.” I’d forgotten how
  2263. delicate her touch was. Strange, as we technically had the same touch. Yet,
  2264. somehow, coming from her, it was different. I couldn’t help but think there
  2265. was some metaphysical difference between our bodies. Sure, our physical
  2266. bodies were identical—clones. But we were different people still, with
  2267. different energies. She smiled.
  2268. “The system is almost back online. Everything will be back to normal
  2269. soon,” I said.
  2270. She stared at me in a way she’d never stared at me before—and not just in
  2271. fascination. I couldn’t put my finger on that look, but there was something
  2272. heavy on her mind.
  2273. Once the machines were back online, I went straight for the terminal. I
  2274. hesitated at the door. A part of me wanted to turn around, to abandon going
  2275. back to my male self. I’d enjoyed my time as a woman, experiencing life as a
  2276. woman. There was so much more I hadn’t been able to see—life outside of
  2277. the laboratory walls. But I couldn’t remain a woman, not in June’s body.
  2278. Perhaps one day, when all was said and done, and my technology was
  2279. mainstream—maybe then I could give it a shot.
  2280. I stepped into the machine with the DNA sample I took a few weeks
  2281. earlier from my clothes. I left half of the sample in another vial, in case the
  2282. experiment failed and I needed a piece of my old self for future attempts.
  2283. “Wish me luck,” I said.
  2284. “Good luck,” the real June said back to me.
  2285. I closed the hatch and pressed the button. Everything flashed and then the
  2286. door opened. I was on the other side of the room. The teleportation was a
  2287. success. But was the body-swap? I walked out of the terminal. June was
  2288. looking at me but I couldn’t gauge her expression. I walked to the mirror. I
  2289. was still a woman. I was still June. My fix didn’t work. The system still
  2290. prioritized June’s DNA pattern over mine. “Damn,” I said.
  2291. “We’ll figure it out,” June said, walking up behind me.
  2292. “It will take years to figure this out. Like finding a grain of sand in a
  2293. forest.” I sighed. “If we could just narrow down the issue… Is it prioritizing
  2294. female DNA? Your DNA? Or is it just acting randomly? Did I flip tails twice
  2295. in a row?” I looked to the machine and wondered. Was it maybe something in
  2296. my DNA? A recessive flaw? Something in my own DNA telling the machine
  2297. to prioritize June’s DNA?
  2298. “We’ll figure it out,” June said. She planted a kiss on my cheek.
  2299. I returned to my office and sat down. I stared at the wall and thought,
  2300. running through various scenarios and possible remedies in my mind. I was in
  2301. a serious bind. In an experiment such as this, you would never run the same
  2302. test over and over on the same mouse. You would run the test on a variety of
  2303. mice. The varying results would help in narrowing down the possible
  2304. solutions. I didn’t have multiple human subjects to test my theories on. I only
  2305. had myself. And every time I went into the machine, I would get the same
  2306. result, over and over, and I would be no closer to a solution.
  2307. There was a flash of light in the laboratory. I leapt up from my seat and
  2308. ran over. The machines were whirling from recent use. The output-terminal
  2309. door swung open. Then, a man stepped out. I had to rub my eyes and take a
  2310. closer look, in utter disbelief of what I was seeing. It was me—Dr. Anders—
  2311. stepping out of the unit. I opened my mouth to speak but I was speechless.
  2312. He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. “Whoa,” he said. I
  2313. knew immediately it was June, though I couldn’t tell you how I knew it.
  2314. “June? What did you do?”
  2315. “I went into the terminal with your sample,” she (who was now a he) said.
  2316. “Why?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There is something
  2317. incredibly surreal about staring at yourself through someone else’s eyes. It
  2318. was like staring at a stranger, but recognizing them entirely. I wasn’t staring at
  2319. myself. I was staring at a surprisingly handsome man (I’d never considered
  2320. myself to be a handsome man). He was strangely attractive, which I didn’t
  2321. know how to feel about. I felt almost guilty about it, as if I was having
  2322. incestual feelings for what was essentially my own self. But it wasn’t my own
  2323. self, it was June.
  2324. “To see what would happen. To narrow down the possibilities.” She
  2325. smiled. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to see what it was like to be you.” A
  2326. part of me was angry with June, but at the same time I was ecstatic. She’d
  2327. answered so many of my questions—questions which would have taken
  2328. months, if not years, to answer with my limited resources. Had she answered
  2329. every question? No. But we were closer. She did it for science.
  2330. Or maybe she did it for me.
  2331. She looked me up and down and laughed. “Hey, I’m pretty hot.”
  2332. “I’m not too bad, myself,” I said.
  2333. She looked at my chest and her face lit up. “Want to come to my office for
  2334. a moment?” she said, motioning towards my office. “I have a few personal
  2335. experiments I need to run.”
  2336. “Of course, Doctor,” I said, following her. The decision was mutual and
  2337. unspoken. There was no rush to get to the bottom of the DNA-analysis issue.
  2338. No rush at all.
  2339. THE END
  2341. John loves excitement, any way he can get it, and crime is an easy way to
  2342. get it. He was once involved in drug trafficking, even though he’s never done
  2343. a drug in his life. Drug trafficking led to gun trafficking, which led to human
  2344. trafficking, and now his illegal thrill obsession has brought him all the way to
  2345. Thailand.
  2346. So naturally, when John stumbles upon a secret underground network, a
  2347. niche sex-trade filled with gorgeous transgender beauties, he can’t help
  2348. himself. He never knew he had a thing for trannies, but no sane man could
  2349. turn these stunning ladyboys down. Not to mention, the business potential is
  2350. unbelievable.
  2351. The only question is, will John get carried away with his new exotic
  2352. obsession?
  2353. CHAPTER I
  2354. In too deep was the understatement of the year. I was in so goddamned
  2355. deep I couldn’t figure out which direction the surface was. I’d uncovered a
  2356. whole world I never knew existed, an elaborate underground network of
  2357. crime and dealings you wouldn’t believe. It all started out as a simple drug
  2358. operation, running cocaine into Thailand. Next I found myself moving
  2359. firearms, supplying shady characters with guns that I highly doubt would be
  2360. used to hunt deer. One thing led to another, and I ended up in the sex trade.
  2361. I was a higher-up, coordinating business between Thailand and Laos. It
  2362. was a welcomed change from the hard drugs and the guns. Hard drugs and
  2363. guns can fuck people up, prostitutes are a different story. They’re just there so
  2364. you can have a good time. I guess you could say I was like the pimp to the
  2365. pimps. They would all go and collect their bit, and then I would go to them
  2366. and collect mine. Actually, more often than not, they would come to me. It
  2367. was an easy gig.
  2368. Strange to think that I worked in a New York City bank just a few years
  2369. before, with a clean white house in the suburbs. I had all the money I could
  2370. ever want. But that got boring fast. There’s nothing exciting about having
  2371. money. Chasing money, now that’s a different story entirely. Don’t get me
  2372. wrong, if anyone loves money, I love money. I could bathe in the stuff, sleep
  2373. in the stuff, dress myself in the stuff—if such a thing was socially acceptable.
  2374. But the first time I ever felt alive was the day I got an insider tip about a stock
  2375. that was going to blow up. I’d never felt anything like it, putting my entire life
  2376. savings into a single stock, watching it closely as it started to take off, heart
  2377. accelerating every time a siren zipped past my little office. I knew I needed
  2378. more—more of that excitement, that chase, that wonderful, wonderful chase.
  2379. I’d never considered myself a criminal, though I was starting to think
  2380. otherwise. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Sometimes chasing the money
  2381. clouded my judgement somewhat, but I tried to keep my sanity. Prostitution
  2382. was a good place for me. It was a safe trade down in Thailand. Everyone was
  2383. having a good time, no one was getting hurt. And it was only kind of illegal,
  2384. so I knew I probably wouldn’t end up in a Thai prison. Even the ladies
  2385. seemed like they were enjoying themselves. None of the girls I ever talked to
  2386. said that they were forced into it. Most of them were just happy to be feeding
  2387. their families. Good on them, I say.
  2388. But the inevitable finally happened, and the boredom began to seep in. We
  2389. had our system worked out so well, so refined. We found loopholes in the law
  2390. that made it impossible for police to touch us. We’d narrowed down all of the
  2391. areas in the city where we could maximize profits. And we’d fallen into a
  2392. perfect schedule, so perfect you could set your watch to it. Every Friday I
  2393. would make my collections, Monday I would deliver to my bosses, and the
  2394. girls took Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. I bought a nice little mansion on a
  2395. hill, just outside of Bangkok. Things started to seem awfully similar to my life
  2396. in New York City. Just a bit more grand and I had a bit more downtime. My
  2397. bank account was growing far faster than I could empty it and the excitement
  2398. was fading fast.
  2399. Okay, so before I go on to tell you how I fell so far down the rabbit hole,
  2400. how I found myself in—quite possibly—the most serious danger I’d ever
  2401. been in, I need to make a confession, and you might not agree with my morals
  2402. and of course I understand that. I suppose you could say that I have an
  2403. addiction, though it’s not a chemical addiction. It’s a sex addiction. More
  2404. accurately, it’s a prostitute addiction, and it ties into what I was telling you
  2405. before.
  2406. I crave excitement. And there’s nothing more exciting than breaking the
  2407. law. Sleeping with a prostitute is just the first step. Sleeping with a prostitute
  2408. in a public place, that’s two charges. Now we’re talking. I’m not saying I’m
  2409. fucking these girls in the middle of some little kid’s park—give me some
  2410. credit, here. But sometimes I’ll take them into the bathroom, door unlocked,
  2411. outside of the stall, and I’ll bend them over the sink and fuck them, taking my
  2412. chances. Anyone could walk through that door—or no one. Maybe I am
  2413. addicted to gambling after all.
  2414. Now usually I slept with my own prostitutes, girls who worked with the
  2415. ring I managed, who knew me, who I knew. But every now and then I’d see a
  2416. girl standing on the street corner that I didn’t recognize. And occasionally, I
  2417. couldn’t resist. I’m only human, after all. One afternoon I saw the most
  2418. beautiful, jaw-dropping specimen you’ve ever seen. She had these irresistibly
  2419. long legs, long black hair, down to her butt, and she was wearing a black
  2420. number that made my cock desperately attempt to break free from my pants.
  2421. She was a bombshell, drop-dead gorgeous. How had I never seen her before?
  2422. Was she new? She paced the street corner with a confidence I couldn’t
  2423. imagine. Across the street, men were eyeing her. No wonder I hadn’t seen her
  2424. before—she probably didn’t last more than five seconds on that corner before
  2425. being picked up, and if I were to pick her up, I don’t know that I would let her
  2426. go again. She had that look you just had to have, had to own.
  2427. I thought of approaching her, recruiting her to my own circle. I knew she
  2428. would go for it. We paid our girls more than anyone else in the city. Unsigned
  2429. prostitutes practically begged to be part of our ring, but we only took the best.
  2430. This girl was the best. But before I recruited her, I felt as though I needed to
  2431. take her for a test drive, make sure the performance matched the look. I mean,
  2432. you wouldn’t buy a car without taking it for a test drive first, right?
  2433. She was shy. When I introduced myself, she didn’t respond. She just
  2434. nodded her head and smiled. It wasn’t until I asked her for her price that she
  2435. spoke. Her voice was soft, quiet, harmless, but it packed a punch, clenched at
  2436. your loins, ate away at your soul like the song of a siren out at sea. “Fifty
  2437. dollars, American,” she said. Most girls upped their rates for white guys like
  2438. me. Plus, my New Yorker accent was unmistakable.
  2439. Can you imagine? Fifty dollars for a night with an angel, a total vixen.
  2440. The girl had no idea what she was worth. There were men back in America
  2441. who would pay thousands for a girl like her. “What’s you name?” I asked.
  2442. “Phan,” she said and then she looked around and stepped closer to me. I
  2443. could smell her perfume. It was beyond tantalizing, making my legs weak. I
  2444. wanted to grab her, flip her around, and fuck her right there, against that brick
  2445. wall. What was a public indecency charge anyway? It’s not like I was
  2446. planning on applying for a job at McDonalds any time soon. But I kept my
  2447. composure. “I come with extra,” she whispered into my ear.
  2448. I didn’t know what that meant but I didn’t care. “Deal,” I said, and I
  2449. showed her towards my car. My heart was racing. I couldn’t remember the
  2450. last time I’d been so excited. I could hardly wait to throw her down in the
  2451. backseat, rip that little number off of her body, and watch her tits bounce up
  2452. and down while I pumped my cock in and out of her pussy. My hands were
  2453. shaking when I opened the door for her. “You want to do it here?” she asked. I
  2454. was parked on the edge of the alley, just thirty feet from the main drag. My
  2455. windows were tinted, it was a fairly safe ordeal. Someone would have to walk
  2456. up pretty close to the car to realize people were fucking inside of it. But what
  2457. was the fun without the gamble, right?
  2458. She fell down onto her back and smiled. She knew how to smile, how to
  2459. melt a man, reduce him to nothing but his primal instincts. But she looked
  2460. nervous. Her cheeks were red and she bit her lip. I considered asking what
  2461. was wrong, but I didn’t pay her to hold a therapy session. I paid her to fuck,
  2462. so that’s what I intended to do: fuck. I kissed her neck, getting another strong
  2463. whiff of her perfume. My cock became as stiff as a post. I pulled the straps
  2464. down from her shoulders, working my way down to her breasts. They were
  2465. soft, supple, her nipples were hard. I explored them with my hands, my lips,
  2466. my tongue. She seemed stiff, still nervous. She must have been new to the
  2467. game. Not for long, though. With her looks and the business I could get her,
  2468. she would be one of the richest girls in Thailand by the end of the month.
  2469. I pulled her little black number down further, down past her flat abdomen,
  2470. past her shaved pubic area. Then I froze at the sight of it. Between her legs
  2471. was a flaccid cock, curled down towards her butthole. Considering how long
  2472. it was, it was impressive she kept it tucked so discreetly. She obviously saw
  2473. the shock on my face because she quickly said, “I told you, you get extra.”
  2474. Now I knew what extra meant.
  2475. I’d heard of Thai ladyboys, but I’d never seen one before. Or maybe I had
  2476. and I just hadn’t realized. If this ladyboy could look this convincing, what
  2477. was stopping the other thousand girls out on the street? “You—You’re a
  2478. man?” I said.
  2479. She gasped and closed her impressively feminine legs. “Excuse me? I’m
  2480. not a man.” I’d offended her. “Just fuck me, white boy. I promise it will be
  2481. worth every dollar.”
  2482. I have to say, I was conflicted. I’m not gay. I’m not interested in men or
  2483. their cocks. But she was right, she wasn’t a man. At least, no sane human
  2484. would look at her and call her a man. She was absolutely gorgeous. Her tits
  2485. were more perfect that any prostitute in my ring, her ass was to die for. The
  2486. only issue was… the cock between her legs.
  2487. “You fuck my asshole. It feels better than a pussy. I promise,” she said.
  2488. She grabbed her ankles and hoisted up her legs, presenting her asshole. I was
  2489. still frozen, undecided, not sure whether I should have been offended or if I
  2490. should be sticking my still-rock-solid cock into her asshole.
  2491. A familiar buzz filled my body. It was excitement, the excitement I’d
  2492. always craved so badly. Anyone could have walked up to that window and
  2493. looked in, seen me there railing a ladyboy in the asshole.
  2494. No risk, no reward.
  2495. My heart rate soared. I couldn’t believe it, I was actually going to do it. I
  2496. reached forward and ran my fingers down her leg. God, was her skin soft,
  2497. smooth, just like a woman’s. My fingers found themselves down at her
  2498. asshole and she smiled. I couldn’t resist. I slipped the tip of my index finger
  2499. in and her butthole clenched it like she wanted it. She bit her lip again. She
  2500. did want it. I could have told her I wasn’t paying her the fifty bucks and she
  2501. would probably still want my cock in her ass.
  2502. So I pulled down my pants and shimmied forward. “Fuck my asshole,
  2503. white boy,” she said. She took charge, reaching down and grabbing my cock
  2504. firmly in her grip, leading it towards her asshole. I watched in a state of halfexcitement,
  2505. half-amazement. She was a tiny ladyboy, probably no more than
  2506. ninety pounds. I weighed twice her weight. My cock was practically the size
  2507. of her forearm. And then there was her tiny little asshole. There was no way
  2508. she was going to take it so easily, so voluntarily. But there she was, cramming
  2509. my cock inside of her, not even flinching as I sunk in deeper. She let her head
  2510. fall back and she sighed. “Feels so good,” she said, and she was right. It felt
  2511. incredible, her asshole breathing, clenching my cock, sucking it deeper and
  2512. deeper. Hell, she could probably feel the big cock down near her throat.
  2513. I started to thrust, gently at first, still not sure her tiny stature could take it.
  2514. But she seemed to be in a state of total euphoria, complete ecstasy. She loved
  2515. it, every inch of it. She was pushing herself down on it hard, fast, practically
  2516. doing all of the work. I reached down and grabbed her tits, my body finally
  2517. relaxing.
  2518. I could feel the presence of the tinted windows all around us. They
  2519. weren’t blacked out, like a limousine. Just tinted, just enough that you
  2520. couldn’t see in from afar, not nearly enough that you couldn’t see in from up
  2521. close. Anyone could have walked up and seen me thrusting my cock into the
  2522. ladyboy, her own cock slapping repeatedly against her abdomen.
  2523. She was getting hard, her cock growing longer and thicker. I was
  2524. impressed with just how long it got. Then I started to wonder—if someone
  2525. did look in the window, they would have seen my back, clearly fucking a
  2526. whore. But my body would have blocked the lady out. You wouldn’t have
  2527. been able to see her hardening dick on her stomach. So I pulled out. “Get up,”
  2528. I said.
  2529. She looked at me with confusion in her eyes.
  2530. “Get up,” I said again, so she did. I took her spot, with my back along the
  2531. backseat. “Okay, get on,” I said. She went to straddle me with her ball sack on
  2532. my abdomen. “No, the other way,” I said, and she turned around, back facing
  2533. me. Once again, she did the work, grabbing my cock in her fragile grasp and
  2534. leading it into her butthole. Once I was in, I reached around and pulled her
  2535. down, her back on my chest. Now if anyone looked in, they would have seen
  2536. it all—her beautiful face, her perfect tits, and her big, hard cock. Now the
  2537. stakes were really high. Now this was a real gamble.
  2538. I kissed her neck and I continued to fuck her asshole. “Oh God,” she said
  2539. before breaking off into some Thai that I couldn’t understand. I still couldn’t
  2540. get over how feminine her voice was, never mind her body. “Oh fuck, fuck
  2541. my asshole, fuck my asshole,” she said.
  2542. I had the sudden urge to reach around and grab her cock. I can’t explain
  2543. the urge. I’d never in my life had any similar urges. I’d actually hoped I
  2544. would go my whole life without touching a cock that wasn’t mine. But
  2545. something compelled me to grab onto hers. Maybe it was because it wasn’t a
  2546. man’s cock, but a woman’s. Or maybe I was just discovering I had a thing for
  2547. ladyboys. I started to pump her dick. “Oh yeah, you dirty fucking white boy,”
  2548. she said. “Beat my dick.” Then she said some more things in Thai that I
  2549. couldn’t understand.
  2550. Her dick felt nice, warm, perfectly conforming to my grip. I could feel it
  2551. pulsing, getting somehow harder, bigger.
  2552. She was in the middle of some sort of hybrid orgasm, moaning
  2553. uncontrollably, head rolling from side to side, eyes closed, dick throbbing.
  2554. With every thrust, my entire cock went deep inside of her asshole. I couldn’t
  2555. believe she could take the whole thing so effortlessly. Watching her squirm as
  2556. she tried to control the unrelenting pleasure surging through her body, I
  2557. couldn’t help but wonder what that felt like. Not just getting beat off with a
  2558. cock deep in your ass, but the excitement of it, of being with a stranger, of
  2559. being with a man, of being in the body of the other gender on top of it all. Can
  2560. you imagine? This was sex on a whole different level, a whole different
  2561. dimension.
  2562. “Fuck!” she screamed out and then massive blasts of cum started to shoot
  2563. out from her cock. The first shot caught my chin, the next few got her tits, her
  2564. neck, and her belly. I could feel the warm, sticky cum dribbling down my
  2565. hand. As she came, her asshole clenched, her hole tightened. I couldn’t hold
  2566. back any longer myself. With a loud grunt, I filled her asshole up. She
  2567. reached down and massaged my balls as I came. Fuck, I’d never had anyone
  2568. do that before, but if felt incredible. Then, she gently put her fingers on my
  2569. chin and tilted my head towards hers. “Worth every dollar, right?” she said
  2570. into my ear before licking her own cum off of my face.
  2571. “Shit yeah.” My head was swirling, my heart was pounding. That was
  2572. worth more than every dollar I paid for it. I would have drained my whole
  2573. bank account to relive that moment, to relive every second of that moment.
  2574. CHAPTER II
  2575. I offered Phan a job with my ring—I even offered her a ninety per cent
  2576. royalty on her earnings (most girls only got 75%). But she declined.
  2577. Apparently she already worked for someone, someone I’d never heard of. A
  2578. guy named Yun Chan. I asked Phan for Yun Chan’s number, so I could call
  2579. and negotiate some sort of offer, maybe a trade. I’d give ten of my women for
  2580. Phan. But Phan wouldn’t give me his number, or his address, or anything. She
  2581. just kissed me on the cheek and said, “Come back for more, okay?” and she
  2582. left. I watched her strut back out to the street, turning every head in the
  2583. immediate distance. Even I had a hard time peeling my eyes off of her,
  2584. wondering if I had it in me for a second fifty-dollar round.
  2585. Instead I went back to my home on the hill and started to do some
  2586. investigative work. Yun Chan. The name was completely unfamiliar, may as
  2587. well have been an alien. An internet search turned up no results. I made a few
  2588. calls to my street team, my pimps who were out keeping tolls on my ladies.
  2589. None of them had ever heard the name before. It was getting very late, the sun
  2590. would soon be up, and I thought of calling it quits for the night. But the
  2591. thought of Phan’s perfect body wouldn’t allow me to rest. I needed to have
  2592. her. I needed to taste that excitement once more.
  2593. I hopped in my car and went back down to her street corner, but she was
  2594. gone. I wondered if she was done for the night. There were a few other girls
  2595. still out. A few of them made eye contact with me, smiling. One girl gave me
  2596. a sampler, flashing her tits before covering up for a passing cop. She had nice
  2597. tits, but I was on a mission to find Phan, or Phan’s mystery boss. I continued
  2598. down the strip. As I walked past one girl, she reached down and grabbed my
  2599. cock. “You want to fuck, honey?” she asked. She squeezed, curling her
  2600. fingers around my member expertly. But again, I had a mission.
  2601. “Sorry, darling. Another time.” She didn’t like that, releasing me
  2602. immediately and turning away.
  2603. I turned the corner, passing another whore. “Hey white boy,” the girl said.
  2604. I continued walking, then stopped when she spoke again. “You looking for
  2605. something extra?” Something extra—that’s what Phan called it, too. I turned
  2606. to the girl.
  2607. “Extra?” I said. I needed to make sure I was on the right page, that I
  2608. wasn’t mistaken. She motioned down towards a bulge in her skirt that just
  2609. caught the edge of the streetlight. “It’s extra long, too. Can you handle it,
  2610. white boy?” I remembered my time in the car with Phan and my heart skipped
  2611. a beat.
  2612. “Who do you work for?”
  2613. “You want to fuck or not?” She grabbed her tits and squeezed them. My
  2614. God, they looked real, just like Phan’s. Were surgeons in Thailand on another
  2615. level or what? How were they producing these perfect female bodies? Or was
  2616. there just something in Thai blood that leant itself to feminine features?
  2617. Whatever was going on, I was starting to see the appeal.
  2618. “Do you work for Yun Chan?” I asked.
  2619. “You a cop, white boy?”
  2620. “No. Just wondering.”
  2621. “Why don’t we just fuck? Wouldn’t that be nice? You want my big dick
  2622. your ass? Thirty American dollars.” She reached down and grabbed my cock
  2623. and massaged it in her fingers. I melted, surrendered. That was all I could
  2624. take.
  2625. “Sure. Okay, let’s fuck.” I was a few blocks from my car now and I didn’t
  2626. have the patience to make it all the way back, so I took her by the hand and
  2627. led her into the alleyway. I hadn’t completely lost touch with my objective. I
  2628. still suspected she worked for this Yun Chan character. I knew she wasn’t
  2629. going to talk until there was money in her hands. Plus, I was going to get a bit
  2630. of action out of it. It was a win-win situation as far as I was concerned.
  2631. We were hidden by nothing but the shadows of the buildings around us,
  2632. away from the orange glow of the Thai streetlights.
  2633. “What’s your name?” I asked her.
  2634. “Ming.”
  2635. Ming was a wildcat, a jungle jaguar, moving expertly and efficiently down
  2636. my body. I have no idea how she got my belt undone as fast as she did. I have
  2637. no idea what she did with her fingertips to get my cock rock hard in the span
  2638. of a few seconds, and I have no idea what she was doing with her tongue to
  2639. make my knees tremble and my legs weak. At first I wondered if she was just
  2640. employing some learned techniques she picked up from some Thai hooker
  2641. school, that maybe she was acting robotically, automatically. But then I
  2642. noticed the bulge pushing her skirt out as her cock became hard, rising up tall.
  2643. She was into it. She wanted my cock just as badly as she wanted the money.
  2644. She looked up at me with hypnotising eyes. She was looking inside of me,
  2645. reading my mind, letting me know that she could do anything she wanted and
  2646. that I was just along for the ride. Anything she wanted, I was as good as at her
  2647. command. She smiled and my head spun. “You like it?” she asked, pressing
  2648. the tip of my erection against her chin.
  2649. “Yeah, I like it,” I said, my voice shaken, lost in some swirling euphoric
  2650. energy. My eyes caught her bulge, now standing tall, the tip of it extending
  2651. out from her skirt. Her cock was a shade darker than the rest of her body,
  2652. surrounded by a bush of dark trimmed hair. There was something
  2653. mesmerizing about it, the way it pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
  2654. “You want to suck my dick, white boy?” she asked with a grin.
  2655. I didn’t respond. Apparently, I didn’t have to. The next thing I knew, I was
  2656. on my knees, her cock in my hand, lips a mere inch away from her tip. Her
  2657. delicate fingers ran through my hair. Then, her slick cock slipped into my
  2658. mouth, past my lips, along my tongue. It’s warmth throbbed. I sucked, my
  2659. body relaxing, mind slipping away. My hands explored her legs and her ass.
  2660. One of my fingers pushed up into her asshole, which she seemed to like based
  2661. on the soft moan that slipped through her lips. “You suck good, white boy,”
  2662. she said, stroking my head.
  2663. I lost myself. Time slipped away, irrelevant. I pumped her dick, sucking it
  2664. with intensity. I revelled in every pulse, every bulge, every twitch. My finger
  2665. slipped further up her asshole. I didn’t even realize I’d been beating myself
  2666. off with my free hand until I was moments away from coming. I didn’t even
  2667. realize she was about to come until she grabbed a handful of my hair and
  2668. pulled my nose tight against her pubic bone. We came at the same time, her
  2669. warm cum unloading in my mouth. I gagged at first, then I took it, its sweet
  2670. taste on my tongue. It wasn’t until I stumbled back that I realized we never
  2671. even fucked, that I’d been too consumed sucking her cock that I forgot about
  2672. fucking entirely. “I guess we can fuck another time, white boy,” she said with
  2673. an adorable giggle. She pulled her panties up over her dripping cock. I was
  2674. about to leave when she said, “Yun Chan is my boss, by the way.” I looked at
  2675. her, my mission coming back to me hard. “You asked earlier.”
  2676. “Yun Chan? Really? Can you give me his phone number? I need to ask
  2677. him a question.”
  2678. “Yun Chan has no phone number. Too dangerous.”
  2679. “Where is he?”
  2680. “I shouldn’t say.”
  2681. I grabbed her and pulled her tight to me. “Tell me,” I demanded. She
  2682. smiled, looking down at my grip. She liked the rough play.
  2683. “Or what?”
  2684. “I need to know.”
  2685. “Slap my ass.”
  2686. I stared at her for a moment with puzzled eyes. That smirk didn’t leave
  2687. her face. She turned around and bent over. “Slap my ass and maybe I’ll tell
  2688. you,” she said.
  2689. I slapped her ass, watching her soft cheeks jiggle and turn red. “Harder,”
  2690. she demanded, so I slapped her harder. She looked so hot, bent over in that
  2691. skirt, those long black fishnet leggings, the tall black heels she’d mastered.
  2692. Once her ass was a shade of crimson, she caved. She wrote down an address
  2693. on my arm and we parted ways.
  2695. I don’t know what I was expecting when I went to meet Yun Chan. The
  2696. address Ming gave me was for a Thai soup restaurant. She wrote ‘downstairs’
  2697. beneath the address, so I figured the restaurant was a cover, and I was right.
  2698. Beneath the restaurant was an impressive space, massive, long corridors,
  2699. dozens of basements connected. It was the heart of the Bangkok
  2700. Underground. A man who said absolutely nothing when I said “I’m here to
  2701. meet with Yun Chan,” led me through a labyrinth of hallways and rooms,
  2702. some filled with money, some filled with guns, some filled with women, some
  2703. filled with all of those things, some filled with things I didn’t know and
  2704. couldn’t name. At the end of one long hallway was a red door. The second I
  2705. saw it, I knew it was our destination.
  2706. But the room was surprisingly unimpressive: a small, grey boardroom.
  2707. Yun, a tall, built Thai man, was sitting in an office chair, leaning back,
  2708. laughing as he watched an American soap opera on a corner television. He
  2709. didn’t acknowledge my presence until the commercial break. Then, he turned
  2710. to me and became very serious, deadpan. “You the guy looking for me? Why?
  2711. What do you want?”
  2712. “Two girls: Ming and Phan. They work for you, yeah?”
  2713. He sat in an intimidating stillness. This man was the real deal, a crime
  2714. lord that made me and my associates look like children at the park. I don’t
  2715. think I saw him blink once during our meeting. The only movement I noticed
  2716. in his body was his throbbing veins, which were visible throughout his bald
  2717. head, his thick neck, and his ripped arms. “I don’t know, maybe.” He stared at
  2718. me, waiting for me to go on. He probably had people below him who dealt
  2719. with his women, kind of like me but on a larger scale, I’m sure. “Why?” he
  2720. finally asked. The room was silent. Not even the buzz of a light of the distant
  2721. hum of an air conditioner. It was deadening, a vacuum.
  2722. “I’m looking to get into the business.”
  2723. “Whores?” he asked bluntly.
  2724. “Well, I’m already in that business,” I said, and then I thought of the best
  2725. way to word my next sentence.
  2726. “Ladyboys?” he said for me.
  2727. I nodded and shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah, ladyboys,” I said. “I think
  2728. it’s an understated business. I mean, I know American tourists would pay far
  2729. more than those girls are charging—”
  2730. Before I could finish, he said, “You been fucking them?”
  2731. I took a moment to respond. “No,” I said. My palms were sweaty. “I
  2732. mean, yeah, that’s kind of how I got into this—”
  2733. Again, he cut me off. “You can’t have my girls,” he said, and then he
  2734. turned back to his program, which was now back from commercial break.
  2735. As I went to speak again, one of his men placed a hand on my shoulder, as
  2736. if to say, Not during Days of our Lives. So I waited awkwardly for ten
  2737. minutes until the next commercial break. It gave me time to try to come up
  2738. with a game plan, an offer that would spike his interest. All my thinking was
  2739. for nothing, because as soon as his program went back to commercial, he
  2740. turned to me and said, “You’re an American, yeah?”
  2741. “Yes, sir.”
  2742. “You know, people pay a lot of money to watch ladyboys fuck
  2743. Americans.” His henchmen all chuckled at the question.
  2744. “No, no, you see, I’m looking to buy your girls, not for myself, but for—”
  2745. Again, I was cut off. “Ten thousand dollars for a show,” he said. “And if
  2746. they like you, maybe a bonus on top of that.”
  2747. I was silent, instantly considering his proposal. What kind of show was he
  2748. talking about? A sex show? Where people watch me fuck a ladyboy? My
  2749. brain was screaming at me, Get out of here, you idiot! But I couldn’t deny the
  2750. excitement. And the money—ten thousand dollars is a hell of a lot of money,
  2751. for a few minutes of fucking. Hell, a lot of people would pay money to do
  2752. something like what Yun Chan was proposing. Granted, those were some
  2753. deranged people.
  2754. “Tonight,” Yun Chan said, turning back to his television. “You can stay
  2755. here until the show.”
  2756. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chan, but I don’t think I’m interested,” I said.
  2757. But he wasn’t giving me the choice. He looked over at me and his eyes
  2758. were serious. Behind me, I could feel the presence of a machine gun. I didn’t
  2759. need to look back to know it was aimed at the back of my head. And in that
  2760. moment, I realized I’d made a huge mistake. I’d chased excitement too far
  2761. down the rabbit hole. I’d gotten mixed in with the wrong crowd and now I
  2762. was going to pay the price. I envy the people in the world who are happy
  2763. being complacent, lazy, unmotivated. People who can reach a modest goal
  2764. and then coast for the rest of their lives. All they need is a decent salary and a
  2765. little house in the suburbs and they’re good. I wish that was me. But it wasn’t
  2766. me. I had to have everything and then some.
  2767. I was taken to a room with a cot and a toilet. The only difference between
  2768. that room and a prison cell was that prison cells generally had windows in
  2769. them. I sat on the cot and waited. How bad could it be? I fuck a ladyboy,
  2770. some people watch, and then hopefully that’s enough for them. Besides, ten
  2771. grand is a lot of money.
  2772. CHAPTER IV
  2773. A few hours later, a couple of armed men came to get me. They led me
  2774. down a long corridor that must have stretched a number of blocks. Then, we
  2775. reached a staircase and I knew it was the place.
  2776. They took me up to an auditorium-style room, filled with men in suits and
  2777. cigar smoke. There was a man on the floor with a microphone speaking to the
  2778. crowd in Thai, and a couple of topless waitresses walking around, serving
  2779. drinks. The waitresses had nice tits. I couldn’t help but wonder if they might
  2780. be ladyboys too—if every beautiful woman in this country was actually a
  2781. ladyboy.
  2782. Of the foreign words spoken by the announcer, I recognized one:
  2783. American. He said it about fifteen times between some other gibberish before
  2784. motioning towards me. I took that as my queue to step onto centre stage. No
  2785. one clapped or cheered. It was silent, save for the occasional clinking of
  2786. glasses and the occasional clearing of a throat. Ceiling mounted lights were
  2787. turned my way, making it impossible to see any faces in the crowd. I
  2788. wondered if I knew anyone in attendance. It was unlikely, but I knew a lot of
  2789. people involved in the crime business, so it certainly wasn’t impossible.
  2790. I stood there waiting for something to happen, for some sort of instruction
  2791. of what to do next. But there was just an uncomfortable silence. I looked
  2792. around, wondering what I was missing, what everyone was expecting. I knew
  2793. I was going to be fucking a ladyboy at some point on the stage. Just thinking
  2794. about it made my heart rate explode into a frenzy. But I kept my composure
  2795. about me.
  2796. Then I heard a squeaking. At first it was faint and then it grew louder and
  2797. louder. A man was pushing an uncomfortable-looking bed on wheels towards
  2798. me. He parked it in the centre of the stage and then walked off. Then the
  2799. silence returned for a moment. I wondered if I was supposed to get on the
  2800. bed, remove my clothes, or just stand there stupidly. I chose to stand there
  2801. stupidly, and there was no protest from the crowd, nor was there any sign of
  2802. approval.
  2803. Then came the clicking of heels. It was my date, my fuck, my ten
  2804. thousand dollars. I could practically hear my heart tolling against my ribcage.
  2805. You wanted excitement, you got it, I told myself. I turned towards the sound
  2806. and then I saw her and a wave of relief washed over me. God, she was
  2807. beautiful. Everything about her was perfect: her long, smooth legs wrapped
  2808. nicely in white stockings, her short skirt, her plump tits squished tightly into
  2809. her white blouse—and that face, my God, that face. She could have been a
  2810. supermodel, an international celebrity. Instead, she was doing fuck-shows in a
  2811. Thai basement. I wondered if that was by choice or if she was being forced.
  2812. Hell, if they were offering her the money I was getting, how could she say
  2813. no?
  2814. Her entrance got a rise out of the audience of one hundred or so—finally.
  2815. Some clapping, some whistling, and a lot of chatter. The chatter eventually
  2816. reduced to whispers and then, as the beauty approached me, the room became
  2817. silent. She stopped right in front of me and looked me in the eyes. I wanted to
  2818. say something to her, but my internal systems all seemed to shut down at
  2819. once. I was at a complete loss for words as the smell of perfection wafted into
  2820. my nostrils. She was a total vixen with her red lips and her long, dark hair.
  2821. She leaned forward and gently grabbed my bottom lip with her teeth. A jolt
  2822. ran up my spine. She was an ungodly perfection, a masterwork. Her beauty
  2823. didn’t belong in that basement, on this planet. My heart stuttered as she
  2824. released my lip and I nearly fell over.
  2825. She ran her fingertips down from my chest, slowly, sinking her body
  2826. down, her knees towards the ground. Her fingertips found the bulge of my
  2827. cock. Until that moment, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get a hard-on for
  2828. the crowd. As soon as those magic fingers caressed my length, my cock was
  2829. throbbing, hardening faster than it ever had before. She pulled down my fly,
  2830. slowly, meticulously. Then she pulled down my pants and my underwear.
  2831. Every instinct in my body screamed to stop her, stop her from exposing your
  2832. erection to the crowd, but more than anything, I wanted her to fondle me, to
  2833. wrap her perfect hands around my cock, to sink my cock through her plump,
  2834. juicy lips.
  2835. Another flurry of whispers broke out in the audience as my cock sprang
  2836. free. They came to a silence again as the bombshell slipped my member into
  2837. her mouth and began to suck. She knew how to suck a dick, I’ll say that
  2838. much. No second was wasted. Her tongue wrapped around my girth and her
  2839. lips suctioned me tightly. I could feel the tip of my cock against the back of
  2840. her throat, and she didn’t gag one little bit. She worked her fingertip magic on
  2841. my ball sack. I swear, I nearly blacked out, between my accelerating heart rate
  2842. and the haze of euphoria that was clouding my brain. I sunk my fingers into
  2843. her soft hair, pulling her in tightly until her nose pressed against my pubic
  2844. bone. Still, she didn’t gag.
  2845. She stood up and removed her shirt, eliciting another excited oohing from
  2846. the crowd. Who could blame them? The ladyboy’s tits were perfect, two
  2847. plump, supple masterpieces. I stared at them in a state of near-hypnosis. I’d
  2848. almost forgotten that there was an audience of one hundred staring down at
  2849. my erect cock. She pushed me gently back until my legs hit the cot and I sat
  2850. down. Then, she climbed over me, planting her knees at my sides, my face
  2851. lined perfectly up with her abdomen. I looked up and she was smiling at me, a
  2852. smile which I somehow translated into: “Your turn. Lift up my skirt,” so I did.
  2853. And then my body became rigid and I stopped. Suddenly I could see what
  2854. all the hype was about, why these rich men paid so much for this show. My
  2855. date wasn’t any ordinary ladyboy, and not just because she was an absolute
  2856. bombshell. She was hung, and I mean hung. Her cock, even flaccid, was
  2857. enormous—long, thick, heavy. These people didn’t come to watch me fuck a
  2858. ladyboy. They came to watch a ladyboy fuck me—and fuck me stupid. I’d
  2859. never had a cock in my ass before, never mind a cock the size of my date’s. It
  2860. was going to hurt, no question about that. I was starting to wonder if she was
  2861. real or some robot designed by some mad, horny scientist. She was designed
  2862. to fuck, designed to draw crowds of wealthy spectators.
  2863. My hand trembled as I brought it up to the beast of a cock. I could hardly
  2864. wrap my fingers around its impressive girth. And it’s weight… The thing
  2865. made my hand look tiny. I gave it a long stroke and watched as the skin pulled
  2866. back, revealing her thick, bulbous tip. She took my head and brought it in, but
  2867. I wasn’t able to fit it in my mouth. The tip pressed against my lips but
  2868. wouldn’t press through. And last I checked, my mouth was wider than my
  2869. asshole.
  2870. A pit grew in my stomach. Was this even safe? Had anyone ever been
  2871. fucked to death before? Or was I about to be the first, fucked to shreds by my
  2872. ladyboy date and her horse-sized cock. She pulled my head in towards her
  2873. body and somehow the cock slipped into my mouth. I could hardly breathe as
  2874. the warm, throbbing member sunk in deep. I closed my eyes and I
  2875. reconsidered everything—my foolish obsession, my need for excitement, love
  2876. for money. How had I gone from accidentally picking up a ladyboy prostitute
  2877. to being fucked by a world-record-sized cock in front of one hundred
  2878. onlookers in the span of a day?
  2879. She did the work, thrusting her long dick into my mouth. Unlike her, I
  2880. gagged, but it made no difference to her. She wasn’t interested in sparing me,
  2881. and neither was the crowd. They were here to see an American being fucked
  2882. senseless by their superstar Thai ladyboy, and that’s what they were getting. I
  2883. could feel my saliva running down the sides of my face.
  2884. A moment later, she pulled her cock out and pushed me down on the bed.
  2885. She was hard and her massive cock now stood tall, far past her bellybutton,
  2886. nearly touching her supple tits. As she flipped me over onto my stomach with
  2887. impressive strength, I wondered if ten thousand dollars was enough for
  2888. asshole-reconstruction surgery. She made sure I was facing the crowd before
  2889. she climbed on top of me, mounting me, getting ready for entry. I couldn’t see
  2890. any of their faces but I knew they were staring at me, excited to see my ass
  2891. pulverized by the monster-cock. I felt her saliva covered cock slap down
  2892. between my butt cheeks.
  2893. Then, I felt it push in, taking my anal virginity from me in a swift push. I
  2894. didn’t think it was possible, but the bombshell made it happen. She only
  2895. pushed the tip in before stopping for a moment, but it was enough to make me
  2896. clench, to make my whole body seize up and for me to groan aloud. I could
  2897. hear a unanimous creaking as everyone leaned forward in their seats, not that
  2898. they needed to be any closer to see that huge appendage between my
  2899. ladyboy’s legs.
  2900. She started to fuck me with just an inch of her cock. Maybe she was just
  2901. getting me ready, getting me stretched out before plunging in deep. Or maybe
  2902. she was teasing the crowd. Either way, I knew she wasn’t going to stop there.
  2903. I knew I was going to get the whole package eventually, if such a thing was
  2904. even possible. But I have to admit, the tip of her cock, sliding in and out of
  2905. my asshole, felt pretty good. Not just good, but great. After a few pumps, I
  2906. felt myself relaxing, the pleasure beginning to build up and pulse through my
  2907. veins. I took a deep breath and felt my asshole unclenching, letting her slide
  2908. in just a bit deeper.
  2909. You know when you have a little, tiny piece of food stuck between your
  2910. teeth, like the skin of an apple, and it feels like someone has their whole fist
  2911. jammed between your teeth? Well, the asshole, as it turns out, isn’t much
  2912. different. My date only had a couple of inches inside of my butt, but it felt
  2913. like she had her whole forearm in there, filling me up, stuffed. I became tense
  2914. again, clenching, trying to stop her from sinking any deeper. But again, she
  2915. didn’t care for me or my feelings. She just cared about getting herself off and
  2916. getting the audience off. She pushed past my clenching, deeper, deeper,
  2917. deeper, deeper. Hell, I didn’t think she had anything left, but still, it kept
  2918. sinking deeper. I swear to God, I could feel her tip pressing up against my
  2919. sternum, and at one point, I thought it was in my goddamned throat. Now I
  2920. know what a Thanksgiving turkey must feel like.
  2921. She started to pump her cock in and out of me. I managed to look back.
  2922. Before her hips slapped my ass, they would rise up tall, repeating the process
  2923. again and again. At first, I thought it was the end of me. No human could
  2924. possibly survive such a pounding. That whole part of the body wasn’t
  2925. designed to have anything going in—never mind a foot-long monster cock.
  2926. Yet, there I was, taking the whole thing up my asshole.
  2927. But after a few pumps, the pleasure came rushing in. My whole body was
  2928. consumed by it, a mind-numbing euphoria. I squirmed, bit the pillow, tried to
  2929. hold back. I couldn’t bare to scream in front of all of those people. But I
  2930. couldn’t hold back. I let go of the pillow and let out a loud bellow. My asshole
  2931. had gone completely numb but all over my body was pinging with ecstasy.
  2932. Time became a blur. The world around me became a blur. My date pulled out
  2933. for a brief moment, flipped me over, and then squished her cock back into my
  2934. body and carried on. Now, I could see everything: her tits bouncing up and
  2935. down with every thrust, her long cock sliding in and out of my body, her
  2936. beautiful face drifting closer and closer to orgasm.
  2937. She reached down and grabbed my erection and started to beat me off
  2938. while she pumped my ass. Hell, I don’t think it was even necessary. I
  2939. probably would have came without it—is that even possible? It sure as hell
  2940. felt like it. She only beat my cock a few times before I unloaded all over my
  2941. own chest—a massive load of white, sticky cum. Who would have thought
  2942. heaven was a grungy basement bellow a Thai soup restaurant?
  2943. I could feel her cock swelling, bloating up. She was close to cumming.
  2944. Would she do it deep in my ass or would she pull out and drench me in what I
  2945. could only imagine was a monster load to compliment her monster cock. She
  2946. chose the latter, pulling her appendage out and aiming it at the centre of my
  2947. chest, where my own load was already pooled. And I was right, her load was
  2948. massive. Cannon fire—load after load—maybe she was a robot, a small
  2949. computer up in her brain and the rest of her just an empty shell, filled with
  2950. cum that was now unloading on me.
  2951. My impulses took control and I reached forward, taking her cock in both
  2952. of my hands, getting the final few pumps in. I had to feel it for myself, her
  2953. giant member as it unloaded, as it pulsed with every blast. God, it felt
  2954. amazing, warm, rigid, powerful. I still couldn’t believe the entire thing had
  2955. just been inside of my body, which now felt empty, depleted, like it was
  2956. missing something very big. I went limp, my muscles exhausted from being
  2957. constantly clenched.
  2958. She crawled over me and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips, her tits pressed
  2959. up against my chest, rubbing in our collective cum. I was getting paid ten
  2960. grand for this? Fuck, I would have paid ten grand for this! Like a little kid
  2961. getting off of a rollercoaster, I wanted back on—I wanted to run right back
  2962. into the line and do it again, and again, and again.
  2963. Two men came out and led me off of the stage. They brought me to a
  2964. shower room and said something in Thai, which I assumed was, “Please wash
  2965. all of that cum off of your body.” I did, and then I was taken to the exit and
  2966. handed an envelope with ten thousand U.S. dollars. My head was still
  2967. swirling, spinning, clouded. I was still riding high, my thoughts unable to
  2968. process.
  2969. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I woke up in my mansion on the
  2970. hill, that I knew what I was going to do next—what the next logical step was
  2971. in my hunt for excitement, my craving for adrenaline.
  2972. I was going to go and find Yun Chan again. This time, I was going to find
  2973. out what I needed to do to become one of his girls—
  2974. One of his ladyboys.
  2975. THE END
  2977. Kyle just lost a bet to his best-friend and now he has to be James’s slave
  2978. for the week. How bad could it be? After all, James goes to a different school
  2979. where spring break hasn’t started yet.
  2980. But there’s a dance coming up at James’s school and James needs a date.
  2981. And it just so happens that, with some help from his sister’s closet, Kyle
  2982. makes a convincing girl.
  2983. CHAPTER I
  2984. It was a stupid bet, a bet I never should have made. Of course the Leafs
  2985. were going to lose against the Penguins—why did I think otherwise? Because
  2986. the odds were good, that’s why—too good to turn down. But Goddamnit, I
  2987. should have turned them down.
  2988. Had I won, James would have given me his brand new bike. His grandma
  2989. got it for him for his birthday, and it was probably worth close to a thousand
  2990. dollars. I needed a new bike, and the one I was in the market for wasn’t nearly
  2991. as nice as James’s. I know, I know—I know what you’re thinking. You did all
  2992. of this for a bike, Kyle? Yes, I was an idiot. I really thought I was going to
  2993. win.
  2994. The Leafs were on a winning streak. Auston Matthews scored four goals
  2995. in his debut for crying out loud, and Crosby was out with a concussion.
  2996. Besides, I really didn’t think being James’s slave for a week would be so bad.
  2997. My school was on spring break and his wasn’t until the next week. I figured,
  2998. even if I lose, I’ll really only have to be his slave evenings and the weekend.
  2999. Had I known he would drag me to school with him, maybe I wouldn’t have
  3000. taken the bet. But I did, and I lost. Now, I was bikeless and a slave.
  3001. How bad could it be, right? James and I had been friends for years, since
  3002. the first grade, back when we were still in the same school. He wasn’t out to
  3003. torture me… Or so I thought.
  3004. The moment that horn sounded and the Leafs formed a line towards their
  3005. locker room, heads down in defeat, my heart sank into my gut. James had a
  3006. smirk on his face that suggested he already had the whole week planned out
  3007. in great detail. And I was about to find out with certainty that he did indeed.
  3008. “You officially belong to James Fischer,” he said to me, that smirk still
  3009. resonating on his face.
  3010. How bad could it be? How bad could it be? The question was pinging
  3011. around my skull. How bad could it be?
  3012. “Look,” I said. “We need to set some ground rules. I’m not eating dog shit
  3013. off of the ground or anything like that.”
  3014. “Nothing harmful,” he said. “That’s fair.”
  3015. “And I’m not giving you my money or buying you anything. I’ll go to the
  3016. store for you—fine, whatever—but it’s with your cash. Got it?”
  3017. “Sure. But you will go to the store for me when I want you to,” he said.
  3018. That smirk got bigger. What had I gotten myself into? Goddamnit. He had
  3019. something on his mind, something bad. I took a breath. I was psyching myself
  3020. out.
  3021. I learned a lesson from all of this, I really did. That lesson was: there’s no
  3022. shame in backing out of a bet, breaking a promise. I know that sounds bad,
  3023. but believe me, sometimes it’s better that way. Don’t be stubborn like I was. I
  3024. learned another lesson, too: don’t make bets with James Fischer.
  3025. “Why don’t we start with that?” he said. “Go to the store and get me a bag
  3026. of chips. Right now. I like Dill Pickle, Lays.” He handed me a five dollar bill.
  3027. “Alright, fine.” I stood up and started towards the door.
  3028. Then, he said, “Wait!” and I stopped. That smirk—that godforsaken
  3029. smirk. There was more. And in that instant, I regretted my idiotic bet. I even
  3030. started to regret our whole friendship. “I want you to go in one of your sister’s
  3031. dresses.” He was biting his lip, containing his laughter.
  3032. My legs trembled. “Are you crazy? No way.”
  3033. Then his smirk vanished and he became very serious, brow lowered, eyes
  3034. dark. “Don’t back out on this bet! You lost fair and square, and you agreed to
  3035. the terms.”
  3036. “I’m not going to the store in my sister’s dress.”
  3037. “Why not,” he said, that smile returning. “You have that long, beautiful
  3038. hair. Why not compliment it with a nice dress.” He laughed. Now I was
  3039. regretting growing my hair out. And for the record, some of the coolest men
  3040. in history had long hair. Vikings had long hair. Every member of Led
  3041. Zeppelin had long hair. Scott Hartnell had long hair, too. There’s nothing
  3042. wrong with long hair—but I digress.
  3043. “I’m not doing it. But I’ll go get your damned chips.” I turned back
  3044. towards the door.
  3045. “Don’t do what I say and I’ll show everyone that clip,” he said.
  3046. I froze. I’d forgotten about the clip—that fucking clip. A few years back,
  3047. James came over to my house, unannounced, and burst into my bedroom with
  3048. a video camera. He caught me with my dick in my hand and some bouncing
  3049. jugs on my computer screen. So what? Every teenager masturbates—it’s not
  3050. like I was doing it out on the street, or watching kiddie porn or anything like
  3051. that. I was alone, in my room. And at least once a week since then, James
  3052. used that video for his own bidding—blackmailing me over the smallest
  3053. things. I was already practically his slave, even without the damned bet.
  3054. Thank God we didn’t go to the same school. That would have been a real
  3055. nightmare.
  3056. What choice did I have? At least at the store, chances were no one would
  3057. recognize me. If James put that video out, all of my friends would see it. All
  3058. of the girls in my school would probably catch wind of it. I would be
  3059. ridiculed and outcast. “Let’s go pick out a dress, shall we?” he said.
  3060. “Fine,” I said. “But after this week, that tape is destroyed.”
  3061. “Deal,” he said.
  3062. My older sister was in college, and for Spring Break she’d gone off to
  3063. Cancun with some friends. Meanwhile, my parents were in Cabo. I had the
  3064. house to myself for the week, and thank goodness for that. The last thing I
  3065. needed was to have my sister or parents walk in on me trying on a dress.
  3066. “This one,” James said, picking out a black, skin-tight number. “You’ll
  3067. need a pair of shoes, too. Lets hope your sister has big feet.” My stomach
  3068. turned. Unfortunately, my sister’s feet were probably around the same size as
  3069. mine—maybe a size smaller, but not small enough that I couldn’t cram them
  3070. into her shoes. He pulled a pair of black wedges. “I think we have your outfit
  3071. for the ball, darling,” he said and then he laughed. Looking at the outfit, I
  3072. started to wonder just how bad it would be if my whole school saw that tape. I
  3073. mean, it’s not like you could see my cock in the footage, just my back and a
  3074. flash of porn on the screen before I clicked away. Maybe no one would care—
  3075. maybe they would all understand. Yeah right, and maybe I’m a Chinese jet
  3076. pilot. “I’ll give you a minute to change,” he said, and he left the room.
  3077. I stared at the outfit. My whole being was rejecting the thought of putting
  3078. it on. But Goddamnit, I had no choice. I wanted that tape destroyed once and
  3079. for all. I slipped out of my clothes, even taking off my boxers (knowing they
  3080. would just bunch up in the tight outfit, which would draw more unwanted
  3081. attention to me). Then, I stepped into the dress and slipped it on. After I’d
  3082. pulled the straps over my shoulders and awkwardly reached around back to
  3083. zip it up, I looked into my sister’s full-length mirror. The damned thing fit
  3084. perfectly. Damn my small stature, I thought. If only it wouldn’t have fit, then
  3085. maybe James would have found some other punishment for me—something
  3086. less humiliating (though, knowing James, that was unlikely). The only issue
  3087. with the dress was the bulge of my cock. It was so tight that you could see the
  3088. entire contour of my manhood, pressed firmly against my leg. I tried to tuck
  3089. it, but it was just too obvious. Also, I clearly had no tits—I was as flat chested
  3090. as a teenaged boy, unsurprisingly because that is exactly what I was.
  3091. My heart continued to burn inside of my turning gut. I couldn’t believe I
  3092. was actually going through with this nonsense. But I had an idea that would
  3093. make it somewhat tolerable: if I actually looked like a girl, no one would
  3094. recognize me. At worst, they’ll think I’m my sister. We looked somewhat
  3095. alike, some similar features (we were made from the same parents, after all).
  3096. Or they would think I’m some chick that looked like my sister. But if I could
  3097. pull off an authentic female look… First I needed to address the bulge.
  3098. I slipped a pair of my sisters panties on. They were tight, but they did they
  3099. job, firmly tucking my cock and balls away. Creating tits was even easier.
  3100. Apparently (and I had no idea until that very moment), my sister’s bras were
  3101. all heavily padded. I didn’t even need toilet paper to look like I had a solid
  3102. pair of B-cups. Luckily, the dress didn’t show any cleavage, so no one would
  3103. suspect a thing. I looked back into the mirror. Damn. I was actually pretty
  3104. convincing. I couldn’t grow facial hair to save my life (thank God for
  3105. Swedish parents!). I thought about putting on some makeup, to really sell the
  3106. effect, but I didn’t think it was necessary. I already looked terrifyingly like a
  3107. chick. Without makeup, I was a solid six—totally mediocre, no risk of turning
  3108. any heads. I wasn’t looking for attention after all, I was looking to blend in to
  3109. the crowd. To get the job done as quickly as possible, with as little attention
  3110. as possible.
  3111. “You done in there or what?” James called out. “I’m coming in.”
  3112. He stepped into the room and his eyes lit up. “Holy shit, Kyle!” he said.
  3113. His jaw dropped. “You—you actually look like a chick! Damn, son. What’s
  3114. the fun in that?” He laughed.
  3115. “Laugh all you want. Once you’ve got your chips, this is coming off.” I
  3116. walked past him, straight for the front door. I didn’t wait around for him to
  3117. add any more ridiculous conditions onto the bet.
  3118. It was a few blocks to the store, which gave me some time to figure out
  3119. the wedges. They were only a couple of inches tall, but I felt like I was
  3120. walking on drywall stilts. It was a long way to the ground, and I was far from
  3121. stable. I must have looked drunk to all of the cars that zipped past. But by the
  3122. time I reached the store, I had a good stride down.
  3123. My sister always watched that show, America’s Next Top Model. I’d been
  3124. in the room a few times while she was watching it. On one episode, the host
  3125. said something about walking as if you were on a tightrope when you’re in
  3126. heels. I tried it out, stepping one foot in front of the next. I caught my
  3127. reflection in a large window, and it looked pretty good. I think I was selling it.
  3128. Once in the store, I went straight for the chips, wasting no time. With his
  3129. stupid Dill Pickle chips in hand, I made my move for the checkout. There was
  3130. only one line open, and there were about five other people in the line. Damn. I
  3131. was going to have to wait. I thought about stealing the chips, just walking out
  3132. with them. I mean, I wasn’t exactly identifiable in my outfit. But what if I was
  3133. caught? They would have realized pretty quickly that I was actually a man. It
  3134. wasn’t worth the risk. So I stood in the godforsaken line.
  3135. A couple of minutes passed by. There were still a few people before me in
  3136. the line. Another man had came up behind me and was waiting with his single
  3137. microwave dinner on the belt. I made a point of not making eye-contact with
  3138. him or anyone. Avoid attention at all costs—that was my new mantra.
  3139. Then, he grabbed my ass. It was a gentle grab, discreet, with his full hand.
  3140. He got a good handful before pulling away. I leapt up and nearly screamed,
  3141. but I contained myself. My voice would have been a major giveaway, and
  3142. then everyone around me would have been staring at me. Hell, I think the guy
  3143. in front of me lived just two doors down from me, his daughter went to my
  3144. school. I had no intentions to go down that road. No way.
  3145. I looked back at the man and he winked at me. He was older than me by a
  3146. good fifteen years—a full stubble beard and dark hair. He was maybe
  3147. handsome by a woman’s standards, but who am I to say? I probably should
  3148. have been disgusted but I was in too much shock. His grope was a
  3149. confirmation that I was successfully disguised as a woman. Not only that, but
  3150. apparently I was a gropeable woman. I bet a lot of ladies go their whole lives
  3151. without being groped by strangers in grocery stores, and maybe that’s a good
  3152. thing, but after just fifteen minutes, I wasn’t one of those ladies.
  3153. I bought James’s chips and left. I could feel the man’s gaze locked on my
  3154. ass as I left.
  3155. Some energy inside of me erupted. I’d just gotten more attention in fifteen
  3156. minutes as a woman than I had in my whole life as a man. Talk about feeling
  3157. conflicted. I mean sure, it was negative attention. No woman wants to be
  3158. sexually assaulted like a piece of meat. But damn, it felt good to feel
  3159. attractive, to know that people noticed you, and not just noticed but admired.
  3160. I wasn’t even across the parking lot when I noticed James standing there,
  3161. laughing. He’d followed me. He’d been watching from the window the whole
  3162. time. “Hey there, Kylie! That guy slapped your ass! Holy shit!” He held his
  3163. sides and nearly fell over in hysteria.
  3164. “Take your damned chips,” I said, thrusting the bag into his chest. I hated
  3165. his satisfaction. Hell, I bet if he put the dress on and did the same thing, no
  3166. one would have considered slapping his ass. Deep inside of me, it was almost
  3167. a point of pride, a silver lining. But at the same time, I couldn’t wait to get out
  3168. of the dress. So I continued on towards the house and the moment I was
  3169. inside, the dress came off and my jeans and t-shirt came back on. I was just
  3170. happy it was all over. At least I thought it was. But oh, how naïve I was.
  3171. CHAPTER II
  3172. It was Monday afternoon, a whole twenty-four hours after the incident at
  3173. the grocery store when James knocked on my door and a tingle ran up my
  3174. spine. I considered not answering, pretending like I was out. It had been
  3175. twenty-four hours of peace, a seventh of my sentence easily served. But I
  3176. knew if I didn’t answer, James would let himself in. Was the door locked? I
  3177. couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. If it was locked, he would have found a
  3178. window to crawl in through. It wouldn’t have been the first time. So I
  3179. answered the door. “What’s up?” I said. There was a small glimmer of hope
  3180. inside of me that James had forgotten about our arrangement. It was a
  3181. laughable glimmer of hope, but a glimmer none-the-less.
  3182. He thrust a piece of paper towards my chest. I took it from him. It was a
  3183. poster for the Spring Fling, an upcoming dance at his school. “Friday night,
  3184. baby, you and me,” he said.
  3185. That tingle in my spine spread through my whole body. “Huh?” I said.
  3186. “You’re going to be my date. I was going to ask Kirstin out, but Brett beat
  3187. me to it, so fuck her. I don’t need her anyway, seeing as I’ve got you.”
  3188. I stared at him for a moment, trying to call his bluff, waiting for a slip—
  3189. any slip at all. There was no slip. He was dead serious. He actually wanted me
  3190. to be his date. “You want me to go to the dance with you?”
  3191. “Not you as in Kyle, of course. I was thinking you, as in Kylie.” He
  3192. smirked and that tingle turned into a full-blown tremor. I argued with him and
  3193. then he reminded me about the tape and that familiar pit in my gut returned.
  3194. Once again, I didn’t have the option. “But we can worry about that on
  3195. Friday.”
  3196. I thought about it. I knew a lot of people at James’s school, not just James.
  3197. A few hours in a packed gymnasium was far more risky than a trip to the
  3198. grocery store on a Sunday night. I couldn’t go a whole night without uttering
  3199. a word. I would need to work on my voice. I would need to work on my walk,
  3200. my mannerisms, everything. But like James said, I could worry all of that
  3201. come Friday.
  3202. But the more I thought about it, the more outrageous the idea became.
  3203. There was no way I could do it, no way I could pull it off. I mean, I didn’t
  3204. have the most masculine voice to begin with but people would have caught
  3205. on. There would be, after all, a lot of people I knew there—people who knew
  3206. me, knew I was friends with James. And if they found me out, it would be
  3207. insurmountably worse than that tape reaching the internet. Hell, maybe people
  3208. wouldn’t even watch the tape. “No way. Not doing it,” I said. It had been
  3209. decided. By a close margin, I would sooner take my chances with the stupid
  3210. tape than go to the dance with James, dressed up in my sister’s clothing.
  3211. “But the tape…”
  3212. “Don’t care. Release it. I’m not going to be your slave all week and then
  3213. go to the dance with you and then do God knows what else on the weekend.
  3214. This whole bet’s gone too far. Release your stupid tape. See if I care.” I went
  3215. to close the door but his foot stopped it.
  3216. “Okay, fine. Let’s make a deal, okay? You can have the weekend off. Just
  3217. go to the dance with me.”
  3218. I considered it. Maybe I could go the whole dance without speaking.
  3219. Maybe I could have James tell everyone I was a mute. I nearly laughed at my
  3220. own thought—no one would buy that in a hundred million years. But there
  3221. would be loud music there, as long as I stayed near the speakers, no one
  3222. would be able to analyse my voice. I could show up late and leave early, not
  3223. give anyone a chance to dig too deep. Besides, I already knew I made a
  3224. convincing woman from an aesthetic standpoint. Maybe it wouldn’t be so
  3225. bad. “Just the dance, right?”
  3226. “Well,” he said and then he bit his lip. “The dance, yeah, and you would
  3227. have to come to school with me this week. Just for a bit, though. You know,
  3228. so that people actually believe me when I say you’re my girlfriend.”
  3229. “Your girlfriend?” I snapped. That pit in my stomach turned to nausea.
  3230. “Okay, so I told everyone I was bringing my girlfriend from another
  3231. school. Kyle, you have to admit, you make a hot girl. With a little bit of
  3232. makeup, everyone in the school will be so jealous of me. C’mon—help a
  3233. buddy out here.”
  3234. I could feel my skin turn from pale to green. I had the urge to slap the
  3235. bastard but I kept myself under control. “So what are you saying? The dance
  3236. and what else?”
  3237. “Just make an appearance at school with me some day this week. Come
  3238. and give me a kiss on the cheek. Maybe bring me my lunch—say I forgot it at
  3239. home. Tell everyone you spent the night—that kind of thing, you know?
  3240. Make people know you aren’t just my cousin or something lame like that.”
  3241. Oh, the irony, I thought. This was worse than bringing your cousin to the
  3242. dance. He was bringing his best friend in drag.
  3243. “Not doing it.” Again, I would sooner take my chances with the tape and
  3244. be done with this whole slave fiasco.
  3245. “Do it and I will destroy the tape and I’ll give you my bike. Promise.”
  3246. And once again, that damned bike was the difference maker, the buzzerbeater,
  3247. my Achilles’ Heel. I needed a new bike, and it would have been nice
  3248. to avoid the release of that tape. So I accepted the deal reluctantly and I
  3249. became James’s girlfriend for the week.
  3250. I cringed at the thought. I’d become James Fischer’s girlfriend.
  3251. If I was going to survive the ordeal, I was going to need to practise, I was
  3252. going to have to really become convincing. After James left, I found myself in
  3253. my sister’s bedroom, digging through her closet, picking out outfits. My sister
  3254. had some startlingly sexy outfits that I’d never seen before and I’m sure she
  3255. wished to keep it that way. For instance, what was she doing with white lace
  3256. lingerie? What was she doing with a Playboy Bunny outfit? I don’t remember
  3257. her ever going as a Playboy Bunny for Halloween.
  3258. I tried on a mini-skirt that extended down to about my mid-thighs. It was
  3259. white and black striped, like it belonged in a Parisian café. With it, I matched
  3260. a pair of black knee-high socks, and a tight black top, once again using one of
  3261. my sister’s padded bras to create some tits. She had a cute pair of white shoes
  3262. that completed the outfit. I caught myself posing in the mirror, checking out
  3263. my ass, my curves. I took a step back and shook my head. Don’t get so into
  3264. this, I told myself. Don’t fall any further down this hole than you already
  3265. have.
  3266. It was frightening. I could suddenly see why some men liked to put on
  3267. women’s clothing. It was comfortable. It was sexy. It made me feel great
  3268. about myself, about my body. For once, my small stature was being put to
  3269. good use. I may not have been able to play football (like James) or basketball,
  3270. or any ball for that matter, but I could look like a fox in girls’ clothing.
  3271. I shook my head again—again, Kyle, you’re falling too far down, getting
  3272. too far lost. Get a grip on yourself. In one week, you will be done with this
  3273. nonsense.
  3274. Next I was in the bathroom with a box full of makeup and hair products
  3275. and accessories. I didn’t know what half of it was, but if I was going to pull
  3276. this off, I needed to figure it out. Concealer, that was an easy one. Eye shadow
  3277. —pretty self-explanatory. The mascara was a bit tricky but I figured it out.
  3278. The deep red lipstick took a few attempts to figure out, too, but I got it
  3279. quickly enough.
  3280. The hair—now that was the real challenge. I’d seen my sister using the
  3281. curly wand before, but I had no idea how to use it myself. I turned it on and
  3282. tried to imitate what I had watched her do, to no avail. So I unplugged it and
  3283. went for the flatiron instead. That was more straightforward. You clamp it
  3284. closed and run it down your hair. Then your hair is straight—easy. I even
  3285. discovered that, by twisting the iron as you run it through your hair, you can
  3286. make big loose curls which looked fantastic as far as I was concerned.
  3287. James was right. I was hot. I was a fox. Just staring at myself in the
  3288. mirror, I got an erection. It popped out from my panties and pushed my skirt
  3289. out. I tried to adjust it back into the thin, lacy undies, but it just popped back
  3290. out again. That was something I was going to need to get a handle on. If my
  3291. erection popped free during the dance, then I was in real shit—far worse than
  3292. a million masturbation tapes.
  3293. But for now I was alone. So I reached beneath my skirt and started to beat
  3294. myself off. My theory was simple: control it by getting it out of your system.
  3295. Besides, how could you not jerk off standing face to face with a vixen like
  3296. me? It was like watching a complete stranger, a gorgeous woman who
  3297. happened to have a rock-hard erection. She was beating herself off so why
  3298. shouldn’t I? I came all over the mirror, a giant, white, sticky load all over my
  3299. beautiful reflection. Watching her cock cum like that made my legs tremble.
  3300. A few minutes later, my dick was once again flaccid, and I could continue
  3301. working on perfecting my female persona. I hit up Google for some tips on
  3302. how to sound like a woman. It was surprisingly easy. Maybe it was the years
  3303. of choir-training I had, or maybe it was just that my voice was naturally high,
  3304. but within an hour, I could do a girl’s voice so well, I could have had my own
  3305. parents fooled.
  3306. I taped myself walking around my garage, practising the voice, and then I
  3307. watched the tape. And holy shit, I was a woman. I was watching a woman. No
  3308. one would have ever thought otherwise. The only way I was going to be
  3309. caught was if my erection sprung out in public—and I was sure that was
  3310. something I could avoid.
  3311. So I went back up to my sister’s room and started to undress. Then, I
  3312. caught myself in the mirror and hesitated. Maybe, I thought, I needed to really
  3313. be sure about this, about my persona, before I tried it out in front of people I
  3314. knew. Maybe I needed to try it out somewhere safe, where if I was caught, no
  3315. one would know who I was and I could get away without too much
  3316. humiliation.
  3317. I’d never been in a club before. I wasn’t old enough yet. But I’d heard
  3318. they rarely checked the girls’ IDs. The bouncer would be my first test. The
  3319. question was, could I trick a whole club full of men?
  3320. I picked out a clutch from my sister’s closet—white to match my outfit—
  3321. and I headed out for a place on the other end of town called Roadhouse.
  3323. My heart was racing as I stood in the line-up to get into the club. I could
  3324. hear the thud of the bass inside, the hollering, cheering, excited voices of the
  3325. crowd, the chattering people waiting among me in the line-up. And over all of
  3326. that, I could hear the thudding of my heart against my chest wall. With every
  3327. passing moment, I became a little bit more confident. For every second that
  3328. no one called me out on being a man, I became more sure that I really did
  3329. pass as a woman. A whistling across the street caught my attention, and the
  3330. attention of every other woman in that line-up, and the whistler was looking
  3331. at me. “Lookin’ good, baby!” he called out as he passed.
  3332. I was starting to realize there were lots of men looking my way. As I
  3333. looked around, scanning my surroundings, I noticed their faces turning away
  3334. quickly, abruptly. Some of them didn’t look away. Some of them kept their
  3335. eyes on me. Some smiled. One man winked. They would be searching me out
  3336. in the club, I was sure of that. So far the operation was a success.
  3337. Then I noticed the bouncer, waving me towards him. I had to check
  3338. behind me to make sure it truly was directed at me, and it was. I walked past a
  3339. good dozen people towards him. “Yes?” I said, speaking aloud for the first
  3340. time in public as a woman.
  3341. He said nothing. Instead, he lifted the velvet rope, letting me into the club.
  3342. My heart soared. I skipped the line. I couldn’t remember any other time in my
  3343. whole life I’d had a similar privilege. And there I was, walking away from
  3344. dozens of others, picked out of a crowd, crowned the champion of the line.
  3345. It was dark and loud inside, which provided yet another wave of relief. I
  3346. could have spoken in my deepest voice and no one would have noticed a
  3347. difference. I could probably have walked around with my cock out and people
  3348. might not have even noticed. But I wasn’t there to test my limits, I was there
  3349. to practice my act, practise my Kylie.
  3350. I went to the bar, but before I could pay for my drink, a man stepped up
  3351. with a ten dollar bill. “It’s on me,” he said. He has a handsome enough man,
  3352. white dress shirt, thick arms, nice stubble beard. He had a charming smile.
  3353. “What’s your name?” he asked.
  3354. “Kylie,” I told him. I could feel the warmth rising to my cheeks. No one,
  3355. my parents aside, had ever bought me anything before. No one had ever made
  3356. an effort to woo me, to charm me. And here was Mr. Handsome, just
  3357. moments after I stepped out into the public world, buying me a drink, acting
  3358. like a gentleman.
  3359. “I’m Steven,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, you look
  3360. absolutely stunning tonight.”
  3361. I bit my lip to contain my smile. “Thanks.”
  3362. He asked where I was from, and I made some bullshit up about being
  3363. from out of town. He stared into my eyes as I spoke, though after a while I
  3364. was beginning to wonder if he was really listening or if he just was on
  3365. autopilot, waiting to get into my pants.
  3366. The more and more I spoke, the more comfortable I got. I was in a
  3367. rhythm. I was starting to worry I wouldn’t be able to get out of my female
  3368. voice, it was becoming so natural so fast. He bought me another drink. And
  3369. then another. I’d never drank before—not more than a sip of my dad’s beer
  3370. out of curiosity, or a glass of Champaign at a wedding. Now here I was, four
  3371. drinks deep. And it was hitting me hard. When the shots came around, I was
  3372. lost completely. I tried to cling onto my sense of control, but I was slipping in
  3373. and out of conscious presence. The night seemed to jump from moment to
  3374. moment, with nothing in between.
  3375. One moment we were taking a shot. The next we were laughing. Then we
  3376. were dancing. Then we were doing more shots. Then I was in the girls’
  3377. bathroom, a beautiful place (relatively speaking), and then I was dancing
  3378. again. Then the night became a blur. My senses started to come back to me
  3379. when I was in the back of a parked car, I couldn’t tell you where or what kind
  3380. of car. I was overtop of Steven, knees planted firmly at his sides. We were
  3381. kissing. His face was covered in my smeared lipstick. He kissed my neck and
  3382. he grabbed my tits. I must have forgotten that I wasn’t a woman, because I let
  3383. him squeeze my non-existent tits, and he must have been too drunk to notice
  3384. he was just squeezing a padded bra. But somehow, it felt good—can you
  3385. believe that? I could still feel ripples of euphoria from his strong hands
  3386. clenching at my chest.
  3387. My hand, with a mind of its own, had undone his belt and his fly, and was
  3388. now beneath his underwear, fingers wrapped around his cock. He was hard.
  3389. He was warm. He was big. I fondled him until he couldn’t get any harder,
  3390. warmer, or bigger. I had him moaning and groaning like a puppet, like I was
  3391. in total control. Then I realized I was jerking off another man and I stopped,
  3392. pulling my hand away. It must have shown on my face because he said,
  3393. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
  3394. I remained silent, trying to think of something to say, some sort of out.
  3395. What was I doing? Was I crazy? All he had to do was reach up my skirt and
  3396. he would have realized my truth. And how did I know he wouldn’t get
  3397. enraged, beat me to death, run me over with his car and leave me for dead?
  3398. “Just relax, baby,” he said, and then he put his hands on my shoulders and
  3399. started to push me down, down, down. He was strong, much stronger than
  3400. me. Pushing my head down to his cock was no problem for him, though my
  3401. drunken body didn’t put up much in the way of resistance.
  3402. And there, staring me in the face, was a big, erect cock. And I had the
  3403. strange impulse to grab it, to suck it, suck it until it came all over my face. I’d
  3404. never even slept with a woman before and here I was about to get it on with a
  3405. man. At least he was handsome, I told myself, as if it was any consolation.
  3406. Somehow it was. I took the cock and slipped it into my mouth. “Oh fuck
  3407. yeah,” he said and his fingers began to explore the hair on my head that I’d
  3408. spent so long perfecting.
  3409. It wasn’t so bad once I’d gotten started. His cock actually felt pretty good
  3410. inside of my mouth, pushing against my lips, sliding along my tongue. And
  3411. he was in a whole other state of ecstasy, which made me feel pretty good
  3412. about myself. It’s nice to be responsible for another’s pleasure. With long
  3413. strokes, I massaged the length of his manhood. With every pump, my body
  3414. relaxed. I ran the tip of my tongue along the base of his shaft—that drove him
  3415. crazy. Where I learned that move, I have no idea. Maybe from some porno?
  3416. Maybe it was just a natural instinct—one of the many feminine instincts that
  3417. were now flowing out of me by the dozen.
  3418. I had him hypnotised, lost on another plane of reality. Hell, I could
  3419. probably get him off without him catching a single glimpse up my skirt, at the
  3420. package I was hiding between my legs. So that’s what I did. I closed my grip
  3421. on his cock tighter, pumped harder, faster. I worked the tip of my tongue
  3422. around the tip of his meat and I watched as he sunk his fingernails into the car
  3423. seat. I had him right where I wanted him. There was no way he would cut this
  3424. moment of pleasure off for a second, even if it was just for a moment to
  3425. quickly transition into my non-existent pussy. I looked up at him.
  3426. “You like that, baby—”
  3427. Before I could finish my sentence he came, with no warning. His cock
  3428. blasted my face, a huge load. He released what I can only describe as a
  3429. groaning battle-cry as an ungodly amount of semen launched out of his dick
  3430. on my face, onto my top, onto his chest, onto the car seat—everywhere. He
  3431. must have been five pounds lighter by the end of his orgasm.
  3432. I bit my lip, not realizing there was cum there too. It was sweet and warm.
  3433. He caught his breath. Then I remembered again, I needed to get out of there.
  3434. This was the definition of being in too deep. “Where are you going?” he
  3435. asked, prying himself up into a sitting position. I didn’t answer. I needed to
  3436. get home and fast, before the wave of drunkenness kicked back in and I did
  3437. something else I would regret—something that wouldn’t end as well as my
  3438. romp with Steven had ended.
  3439. I found myself back in my sister’s bedroom, staring myself in the mirror,
  3440. cum now dried into my top. Holy shit, I thought to myself, I enjoyed that far
  3441. too much for my own good. Then, I got into my sister’s bed and I fell asleep.
  3442. CHAPTER IV
  3443. I showed up at James’s school without warning James. I figured I would
  3444. go in, get his stupid little act over with, and then start preparing for the dance.
  3445. I didn’t want him wasting my time with planning, telling me what to wear,
  3446. how to do my hair, my makeup, telling me what to say. In his original offer,
  3447. he just asked that I make an appearance to sell his stupid little lie, so that’s
  3448. what I did.
  3449. It was lunch when I showed up with a sandwich and a banana in a brown
  3450. paper bag. He was at his locker, back towards me. I was dressed to kill, to
  3451. turn heads. That morning I’d shaved my legs (even though my blonde body
  3452. hair was practically invisible), plucked my eyebrows, waxed my downstairs.
  3453. I’d absorbed a few YouTube makeup tutorials and I’d taken my look to
  3454. another level. I took my sister’s old school uniform and made a few
  3455. adjustments, shortening the skirt, tying the top up in a knot to expose my
  3456. belly. I picked up a box of hair dye from the drugstore and I’d given myself
  3457. some highlights. I was pretty impressed with myself, to be honest.
  3458. More heads than I cared to count turned as I walked those halls, my heels
  3459. clicking against the floor as I went. As the heads turned, they became silent. It
  3460. wasn’t until me and my wave of silence were ten feet away from James that
  3461. he turned around and froze, his eyes locking onto my body. I reached his
  3462. lunch out to him. “You forgot your lunch, babe,” I said. And now the heads
  3463. turned to James, who was still frozen. He wanted a hot girlfriend, that was
  3464. exactly what he got.
  3465. “Thanks,” he said, eyes still wide. He held the bag awkwardly, still not
  3466. sure what to do with it. I wondered if he’d forgotten our agreement altogether
  3467. or if he was just taken back by my new look, my undeniable sex-appeal. I felt
  3468. incredible in that outfit, in those heels, that skirt floating down around my
  3469. thighs. I kissed him on the cheek, leaving behind a deep red impression. “I
  3470. had fun last night,” I said and then whispers broke out around us.
  3471. He forced a smile. “Really?” he said stupidly. His eyes continued to
  3472. explore my body while he stood totally frozen.
  3473. I stepped in close to him. “Really,” I said into his ear before reaching
  3474. down and grabbing his package. He was surprisingly big down there. The
  3475. crowd oohed. “See you at the dance, Friday.”
  3476. Then, I turned to leave. As I left, someone whistled. Even the girls were
  3477. staring at me with a mix of wonder and jealousy in their eyes. Now I couldn’t
  3478. wait for the dance. I couldn’t wait to leave all of these boys a dripping,
  3479. drooling men on that dance floor.
  3480. When the night finally came, I was ready. I spent the whole day preparing,
  3481. picking out the perfect outfit, applying and perfecting my hair, my makeup.
  3482. Kylie’s voice was now second nature. I discovered that, with some clever
  3483. contouring, I could create the convincing appearance of cleavage with my
  3484. sister’s lower-cut dresses. The dress I picked out was a deep red with a slit
  3485. along the leg that ran up all the way to my hip. I was irresistible. I would be
  3486. the talk of the night, of the week, of the whole damned school year. I felt
  3487. great, better than I’d ever felt in my entire life. I was starting to think this was
  3488. who I was meant to be, this was who I was—Kylie, not Kyle. And to think,
  3489. all of this started because of some stupid bicycle.
  3490. When I stepped into that gymnasium, as expected, heads turned, dates got
  3491. jealous. I could feel their gazes locked onto my body, my chest, my ass. Who
  3492. could blame them?
  3493. I walked around the room, looking for James, but he was nowhere to be
  3494. found. So I found a spot on the edge of the party and I waited, soaking in all
  3495. of the gawking glances that came my way. Unlike the more mature and more
  3496. inebriated men at the club, the boys at the dance weren’t teeming with
  3497. confidence. They all stared at me like I was the eighth wonder of the modern
  3498. world, but none of them dared come to talk to me, to ask me to dance. Though
  3499. I could see in their eyes they wanted to more than anything.
  3500. Then I heard his voice. “Kylie?” he said. I looked over and it was James.
  3501. His cheeks were red. Even he, knowing my secret, couldn’t deny what I’d
  3502. managed to accomplish, who I’d managed to become. He wasn’t laughing
  3503. now, he wasn’t smirking. He was dressed nicely, in a good suit, hair nice and
  3504. proper. He reached his hand out and said, “Care to dance?”
  3505. I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. He didn’t mention the
  3506. elephant in the room, the fact that I was really a man. I knew James well
  3507. enough to know that he wouldn’t be caught dead dancing with a man—but
  3508. that’s what we were on our way to do. As we reached the dance floor, the
  3509. song changed to a slow number. Even that didn’t deter him. Slowly, he
  3510. brought his hands down to my hips and he took a step in towards me. I
  3511. wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his shoulder. “You smell
  3512. nice,” he said. His voice was almost shaken, still in shock. We started to
  3513. dance. He led. He held me close. I could feel the ridges of his muscles, his
  3514. pronounced football-player chest, his stacked shoulders.
  3515. Other men watched us dance, totally jealous.
  3516. His hands slipped down onto my ass and he gave me a squeeze. I looked
  3517. him in the eyes. He bit his lip. What was that? Did he just do that on purpose?
  3518. You couldn’t exactly squeeze someone’s ass by accident. But why? It was
  3519. discreet enough that no one could have seen, but wasn’t that the whole point?
  3520. To show me off? To be seen? The only reasoning I could think was that he
  3521. was actually developing a thing for me. James—even knowing my secret, my
  3522. true male identity—was developing a thing for me. Impossible.
  3523. Or maybe not. As we continued to dance, I began to feel his bulge against
  3524. my abdomen. He was getting hard. I was making him hard. I gently wiggled
  3525. into it, grinding it flirtatiously with my body. He got harder. Even through his
  3526. pants, through my dress, I could feel it pulsing with his heartbeat. Holy shit, I
  3527. was making him as hard as an iron rod.
  3528. And then my heart skipped a beat. I was getting hard, too. My own cock
  3529. was beginning to grow and harden in my panties. “I need to go to the
  3530. bathroom,” I said, before things got out of control. At any moment it could
  3531. have sprung free. And the lighting in that gymnasium wasn’t nearly as
  3532. forgiving as the low-lighting in the club. Not to mention the dozens of eyes
  3533. that were aimed in my direction. I couldn’t take the risk. I slipped into a stall
  3534. in the girls’ bathroom and I let my cock out to breathe. I waited for my heart
  3535. rate to drop, for myself to relax. Slowly, my penis began to become flaccid
  3536. again.
  3537. Then I opened the stall door and there he was, standing in the middle of
  3538. the bathroom: James. “What are you doing in here?” I asked. He motioned
  3539. towards the bathroom door, which he’d locked. Without saying a word he
  3540. grabbed me, pulled me tight, and kissed me. At first I was frozen. Here was
  3541. my best-friend of many years, arms around me, tongue in my mouth. And for
  3542. some strange, fucked up reason, it felt right. I surrendered. We stumbled back
  3543. into the wall and his hands began to explore my body. “Fuck, you’re so hot,”
  3544. he said.
  3545. I ran my hands up and down his body, eventually finding the bulge of his
  3546. erection. I massaged it through his pants, which seemed to power him up,
  3547. raise his energy. I could feel his heart throbbing, beating against his chest
  3548. rapidly like a Native war drum. I squeezed his cock. I wanted to make him
  3549. come, to make him drool and drop to his knees.
  3550. “Suck my dick,” he demanded, so I did. I pulled his pants down as quickly
  3551. as humanly possible and then I grabbed his dick like I needed it. Fuck, it felt
  3552. so good, warm, throbbing in my hand. I ran my hand up and down his length
  3553. a few times before plunging the beautiful specimen into my mouth. Who
  3554. knew James had such a massive cock, such an impressive length? And it got
  3555. so hard, like a damned steel beam. Sucking his cock, I nearly rubbed off all of
  3556. my lipstick but I couldn’t have cared less, it felt so good, so right. He grabbed
  3557. my head and started to fuck my face like a glorified sex toy. I should have
  3558. been pissed—I should have stood up and slapped his face—but instead, I
  3559. loved it. I let him plunge that slick cock down my throat as he pleased. Even
  3560. though I was running out of breathe, it felt so fucking good.
  3561. He started to moan. But before he got too far gone, he took a step back.
  3562. “Get up on the counter,” he demanded, pointing at an empty space between
  3563. two sinks. I climbed up onto the counter and then he grabbed me by the legs
  3564. and pulled me into position. He flipped up my skirt and ripped my panties
  3565. down my legs. My heart skipped a beat. My erection was now out in the open,
  3566. for him to see, so he could remember what he was doing—fucking a man—
  3567. fucking his best friend. But he only paused for a brief moment, and it was
  3568. surprisingly to admire my cock. He looked at it with glowing eyes and then
  3569. slowly, he reached out and grabbed it, feeling it, holding it, squeezing it. He
  3570. liked it. But his targets were set elsewhere: on my asshole.
  3571. He took his saliva-covered cock and lined it up with my tight little hole. I
  3572. felt it press up and then push in. My body began to tremble—a combination
  3573. of nerves and pleasure coursing through my veins. I was about to be fucked in
  3574. the asshole by James and his big dick. The craziest part about it, I didn’t care.
  3575. I wanted it more than anything. I wanted him inside of me with the thick log,
  3576. pumping me hard, pumping me senseless.
  3577. He pushed in and I clenched. “Holy fuck,” he said in a elated state of his
  3578. own. He revelled in the moment for a few seconds, silent, still, my asshole
  3579. clenching his big meat tightly. Then, the race was off. He fucked me like the
  3580. horny teenager he was, ramming my ass senseless with impressive speed,
  3581. impressive force. His toned hips slapped against my increasingly numb butt
  3582. cheeks with every revolution. I began to relax and he sunk deeper.
  3583. It felt incredible, every inch of his veiny, hard dick inside of me—his
  3584. bulbous tip sliding in and out of my tight hole. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck
  3585. me!” I yelled, and he sure as fuck did.
  3586. He held my thighs tightly, holding me in place so I wouldn’t slide back
  3587. from the force of his relentless blows, which were getting faster and faster,
  3588. harder and harder.
  3589. “Beat my dick,” I said, and he followed the command without hesitation.
  3590. He grabbed my cock and started to beat me off while he pumped my asshole
  3591. mercilessly. I let my body slump back. Euphoria had consumed me
  3592. completely. There was no resisting surrender, no holding back. That euphoria
  3593. reached its climax, I screamed, and my cock erupted like a volcano, shooting
  3594. straight up and covering my body, his body, his hand, the counter, everything.
  3595. I had no idea I was capable of such a load, such tremendous volume.
  3596. He screamed out loud and then I felt it—my ass filling up with warm cum.
  3597. My eyes shot open wide and my body tensed. My asshole clenched onto his
  3598. dick as to not let him go, as if it wanted every last drop of his gooey
  3599. substance. A man just came in my asshole. My best-friend just came in my
  3600. asshole. We stared one another in the eyes. “Shit,” he said, the realization
  3601. hitting him like a sack of bricks.
  3602. I didn’t know what to say back. Nothing had ever felt so good, but he
  3603. was… James. And I wasn’t Kylie. I was Kyle. Everything suddenly seemed
  3604. wrong, broken, misplaced. That familiar pit returned to my stomach. “I should
  3605. be going,” I said. I adjusted my skirt, wiped the cum off of my stomach, and
  3606. then I left.
  3607. My heart wouldn’t stop racing. I couldn’t quite process what had
  3608. happened. Had I just lost a friend? Did I make a big mistake? Had I fallen too
  3609. far into this guise, into this Kylie character? And if so, why did it feel so
  3610. good? So right? It wasn’t remotely fair that this was the way the world
  3611. worked, how society operated. If I wanted to be Kylie, I should have been
  3612. able to be Kylie, no?
  3613. There was a knock at my door, but I didn’t answer it. Instead, I found
  3614. myself face to face with Kylie in the mirror. I’d lived up to my end of the
  3615. deal. I got his chips, I made the appearance at his school, and I showed up at
  3616. the dance. That was that—I could just leave it all behind me. Get my stupid
  3617. new bike, forget about the tape, and never see James again. It wouldn’t be
  3618. hard to do. We went to different schools, after all. I could apply at an out of
  3619. state university and never come back, never think about it—forget it all ever
  3620. happened, pretend it was all a nightmare.
  3621. “Hey,” a voice said behind me and I nearly had a heart attack. It was
  3622. James. He must have climbed in through the window. “Why’d you leave?” he
  3623. said.
  3624. I didn’t know what to say back. I felt humiliated, ridiculous. I couldn’t
  3625. bare to have him look at me, not like this. Standing there, I wished there was
  3626. some way to turn back time, to reset everything. Let him release the stupid
  3627. tape. Or better yet, never make that bet at all—have some common sense and
  3628. know the Leafs would lose the game. But I couldn’t do any of that.
  3629. “You should go,” I said. It came out in Kylie’s voice, unintentionally. That
  3630. was going to be a whole endeavour, trying to retrain my voice for when I
  3631. returned to school, for when my family returned from vacation.
  3632. “I don’t want to go.”
  3633. “Why?” I said.
  3634. “Kylie—Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked. He wasn’t laughing. He
  3635. wasn’t smiling. His face was dead-serious. His cheeks were red. He was
  3636. laying himself on the line, putting himself out into an unforgiving place,
  3637. risking bitter humiliation.
  3638. My lips parted but I had no words. I tried to think of something, anything,
  3639. but nothing came out. Was this another one of his games? A set up for a joke?
  3640. If it was, he was doing a masterful job keeping a straight face.
  3641. He stepped forward and kissed me on the lips, and I knew he was serious.
  3642. “Please?” he said and I melted. Maybe I was wrong—maybe I could be Kylie.
  3643. Who cares about right and wrong—does such a thing even exist, really? It’s
  3644. all just hypothetical nonsense, black and white, right and wrong—who cares?
  3645. “Okay,” I said. I couldn’t contain myself. I fell into his arms and he held
  3646. me tightly. Screw wrong, this felt right. Finally, life felt right.
  3647. THE END
  3649. John was heartbroken when the neighbour’s daughter, a few years his
  3650. senior, left for college. For years, John, from the safety of his bedroom, had
  3651. looked out into the neighbour girl’s window and watched her change and
  3652. explore her body. Those days were over now.
  3653. At least he thought they were.
  3654. When the neighbour girl’s little brother, Aaron, slips into her bedroom late
  3655. one night, John doesn’t expect the show he gets—and he doesn’t expect to be
  3656. so into it. But what John doesn’t realize is that Aaron, armed with a bag full
  3657. of sex toys and a black, sexy little bunny outfit, knows John is watching.
  3658. CHAPTER I
  3659. I’d always had a crush on my neighbour—the girl next-door, the blonde
  3660. bombshell upstairs. She was a couple of years older than me and her window
  3661. was right across from mine. That’s right—directly across from mine. Can you
  3662. even imagine? I couldn’t count the number of times I’d watched that beauty
  3663. undress, stare at her gorgeous naked body in the window as if it was a mirror,
  3664. completely oblivious to the fact I was watching from my darkened bedroom
  3665. across the lane. My God, her tits were perfect. Sometimes I wondered if she
  3666. knew I was watching, if she was putting on a show for me. I mean, after a
  3667. decade of living across from me, she must have known I could see into her
  3668. bedroom, right? She must have known I could see her standing naked as she
  3669. tied her hair up, checked herself out, lifted up her tits (as if to decide whether
  3670. they were perky enough, and by God, they were more than perky enough).
  3671. Well, it was fun while it lasted. It was a July afternoon that I woke up to
  3672. the rumble of an engine. When I looked outside and saw the moving truck
  3673. backing into their driveway, I knew my free ride was up. I watched her and
  3674. her hot friends pack that truck full all afternoon, and then I watched with a
  3675. hole in my heart as that truck pulled away and she set off for college.
  3676. Her room became like a museum of the highlight of my adolescence. All
  3677. of her boy-crush posters remained up on her walls, her pink sheets stayed on
  3678. her bed, and, as if to tease me, a lacy black bra remained slung over the edge
  3679. of her bedframe, reminding me of the many times I watched that bra fall to
  3680. the floor, off of her supple tits. A piece of me died that day my peepshow
  3681. crush left for college.
  3682. She had a little brother named Aaron. Aaron was a different kid, and
  3683. different really is the best word I could think to describe him. He was a few
  3684. years younger than me, he went to my school, and he never said much at all.
  3685. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever heard him speak. I don’t know if he
  3686. had any friends at school. I’d only ever seen him by himself. He wasn’t the
  3687. most discreet kid, either. He was once caught sneaking into the girls’ locker
  3688. room during gym class. The rumour was that he was trying to steal girls’
  3689. panties, the little perv. He was a smaller guy, smaller than any other guy in the
  3690. school in both length and width, and he was always wearing baggy clothes—
  3691. which made him look even smaller. And every year his hair got a bit longer.
  3692. Hell, it had almost gotten as long as his sister’s. Kids in our school called him
  3693. a freak.
  3694. Who would have thought that I—the football star, the most popular guy in
  3695. school (a straight guy on top of it), who could have had any girl I wanted—
  3696. would have a secret fling with the little freak boy next door. Now I know
  3697. what you’re thinking—you don’t sound so straight to me. Well give me a
  3698. minute to explain. Aaron wasn’t a boy—at least, not entirely, depending on
  3699. your definition of male and female.
  3700. It was late October, a few months after my beautiful neighbour left for
  3701. college. I was in my bedroom, finishing up my homework, when the light to
  3702. the bedroom across the way flicked on. My heart soared. I thought my dream
  3703. girl was back, maybe visiting during Reading Break or something along those
  3704. lines. When I looked up, I didn’t expect to see Aaron slipping into the room,
  3705. closing the door carefully behind him. Disappointment set in. He set a small
  3706. bag down next to the door.
  3707. I flicked off my own light, curious to see what the weirdo was up to. His
  3708. parents were asleep (I know, because I could also see their bedroom from my
  3709. room). I watched Aaron look around the room. He picked that black lacy bra
  3710. up off of the bed frame and held it for a moment. I couldn’t help but wonder
  3711. what he was up to. Was he some pervert, about to sniff his sister’s undies? Or
  3712. was this his weird way of expressing how he missed his college-bound
  3713. sibling? Either way, it was strange. I continued to watch. I didn’t expect what
  3714. came next.
  3715. He took off his hoodie and dropped it on the floor. Then, he pulled off his
  3716. undershirt and that’s when my heart skipped a beat and I froze. Aaron had tits.
  3717. Small tits, sure, but he had tits. They were obscured under a tightened band,
  3718. which he loosened and dropped to the floor. They were either A-cups or Bcups
  3719. (it was hard to tell from across the lane). Was Aaron actually a girl who
  3720. had been pretending to be a boy? I’d heard of that before, girls who wanted to
  3721. be boys, who squished their boobs down and wore boys’ clothing. Maybe it
  3722. was more common than I’d thought.
  3723. My theory was proven wrong moments later, when Aaron dropped his
  3724. pants to the ground. He had a cock and balls and from where I was sitting
  3725. (which granted, wasn’t very close) they looked as real as real could look. So
  3726. he was a he… with tits.
  3727. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to tell someone what I was
  3728. seeing, to call all of my friends and spill the news. It explained so much, but
  3729. at the same time, raised so many more questions. I scrambled to find my
  3730. phone, to take a picture for proof. I couldn’t find the damned thing in my
  3731. mess of a room. Then I looked back up and saw him standing by the window,
  3732. the way his sister used to, using it as a full-length mirror, giving his tits and
  3733. good grasp, checking out his naked profile. Hell, cock aside, he looked kind
  3734. of like a chick—especially after he tucked his package between his legs and
  3735. turned back to the window-mirror. The kid didn’t have a speck of hair
  3736. anywhere on his body, unless you count the long hair on his head, which he
  3737. was now styling into a loose up-do.
  3738. I couldn’t believe what I was watching. It was so surreal. No one would
  3739. ever believe me without photographic evidence, but it was too strange to look
  3740. away from. I didn’t want to set off on a phone hunt and miss whatever bizarre
  3741. thing was about to happen next. But I knew no one would ever believe me.
  3742. Talk about conflicted.
  3743. There was a real mirror on the other side of the bedroom, a small makeup
  3744. mirror. Aaron turned to it and bent over. He opened a few drawers below it
  3745. and collected a few items. Then, he started to do his makeup. All I could see
  3746. was his surprisingly perky ass and his long, thin legs. He worked quickly, as if
  3747. he’d done it hundreds of times before. Just a few minutes later, he was back at
  3748. the window—the room’s only full-length mirror—checking himself out. His
  3749. lips were now red, and his eyes were heavily shadowed. If it wasn’t for the
  3750. cock dangling between his thighs and the protruding Adam’s apple, I
  3751. wouldn’t have known the difference.
  3752. Next, he went to the closet and started to dig. He pulled out something
  3753. black and silky—I was too far away to know what it was at first. I watched
  3754. him bend over and step into the number. Then, he started to pull it up over his
  3755. naked body. It was lingerie—a black, sexy bunny outfit with a perky, white
  3756. cotton tail and white frills around the very, very short skirt and around his A
  3757. or B-cup cleavage. The bulge of his cock was still too hard to ignore. He went
  3758. back to the closet and then returned with a pair of thigh-high fishnet stockings
  3759. and a pair of bunny ears. I’d seen his sister wear the same outfit a year before,
  3760. for a Halloween party she snuck out the window to attend. There was no way
  3761. on Earth her parents would have let her leave the house in that outfit. No
  3762. parent with an ounce of sensibility would let their daughter wear a skimpy
  3763. bunny outfit like that one out of the house.
  3764. I crept over to my bedroom door and locked it. My parents had gone to
  3765. bed long ago, but there was no way in hell I was going to risk having
  3766. someone walk in and see me watching this—watching my male neighbour
  3767. prance around in a sexy bunny outfit with his hair done up and a face full of
  3768. makeup. My heart was beating fast. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be seeing
  3769. what I was seeing. Everything about it felt so taboo. Now I really couldn’t tell
  3770. anyone about this—even if they would believe me. “Why were you
  3771. watching?” I’m sure they would ask, and what answer could I give? Out of
  3772. curiosity? How could I look away? He was actually really hot? I’m sure that
  3773. would go over well.
  3774. I snuck back up to the window and reassumed my position on the edge of
  3775. my bed. My homework could wait. I needed to know what would happen
  3776. next.
  3777. He went to the bag that he had set down next to the door and pulled
  3778. something out of it. I couldn’t tell what. He walked over to the wall directly
  3779. across from the window, perfectly in my frame of view. When he took a step
  3780. back, I saw it: he’d placed a suction dildo on the wall. My heart was now
  3781. pounding aggressively into my ribcage. Holy shit. Was he really going to do
  3782. it? It was a big dildo—much bigger than the average cock. And not to
  3783. mention, he was a small guy.
  3784. He started out on his knees, grabbing the rubber cock in his hand and
  3785. stroking it, maybe testing the suction, maybe just giving it a handjob. After a
  3786. few moments, he went in, letting it slip through his lips. He was giving the
  3787. dildo a blowjob. I couldn’t see much—just his head bobbing forward and
  3788. back, and that little white cotton tail, standing perky. He had a nice curve to
  3789. his back, the kind you only see on the sexiest models in the sexiest
  3790. magazines. Had someone looked into the window now, they would have
  3791. assumed they were looking at a woman. Hell, even I was beginning to forget I
  3792. wasn’t looking at a woman.
  3793. His sister had never done anything like this. Once, I saw her masturbate,
  3794. and it was terribly exciting at the time, even though she did it with her panties
  3795. and bra on, and she was facing away from me. Never did she suction a dildo
  3796. to the wall and suck it off like ferocious little whore.
  3797. My heart raced. My breathing became shallow. I’d never felt so naughty
  3798. in my whole life, watching Aaron suck that dildo off. In my defence, he had
  3799. the body of a beautiful woman. He even had the tits, somehow.
  3800. I sunk down lower when he stood back up. He turned towards me and
  3801. then bent over, slowly backing onto the saliva-coated dildo. His eyes lit up
  3802. and he took a sharp breath in. I couldn’t see the sex toy from my vantage
  3803. point, but I knew it was now sliding inside of him. His eyes closed and a
  3804. smile overtook his face. When he opened his eyes, I swear he was staring
  3805. right at me. I sunk down lower out of instinct. He began to fuck himself. I
  3806. watched his tits bouncing, nearly popping out of his tight little top. He planted
  3807. his hands on his knees and his pace began to quicken. He bit his lip and his
  3808. face became red.
  3809. My own cock was now rock-hard and there was a fist-sized lump in my
  3810. throat. I succumbed to the urge to jerk off. Tense, body filled with anxiety, I
  3811. reached into my pants and started to beat my dick. Aaron’s resemblance to his
  3812. sister was uncanny and he worked that dildo like a seasoned professional.
  3813. How could I not jerk off?
  3814. Aaron smiled. His eyes were still looking in my direction—probably just
  3815. watching himself fuck himself in the reflection of the window. But that didn’t
  3816. stop my head from swirling with anxiety. What if, by some freak chance, he
  3817. could see me?
  3818. He reached down and dug his cock out from the tight black garment. It
  3819. was hard and surprisingly big for a guy with tits. He started to beat himself
  3820. off while thrusting himself against the wall, shoving that suction-dildo deep
  3821. into his asshole. My legs quivered. I took a deep breath in, but I was
  3822. trembling. Everything about what he was doing seemed wrong. Everything
  3823. about what I was doing seemed wrong. The whole thing was so taboo, yet
  3824. there I was, jerking off, watching in a state of near-hypnosis.
  3825. He came before I did. He had to use his free hand to cover his mouth, to
  3826. stop himself from screaming and waking up his parents. His load was so big, I
  3827. could see it blasting from across the lane. Shot after shot of thick, white cum.
  3828. His face was dark red. After a moment of tension, he let his body relax and he
  3829. let the long dildo slip out from his asshole.
  3830. Then I came, warm cum soiling my boxer shorts. Oh God, it felt so good,
  3831. my cock unloading a massive, sticky load, my heart still racing. My senses
  3832. came back to me and I realized what I’d just done—jacked off to my male
  3833. neighbour’s bunny-costume romp. Now I really couldn’t tell a soul about it.
  3834. Now it was a deep, dark secret.
  3835. CHAPTER II
  3836. I saw Aaron in the hallways at school the next day, back in his baggy
  3837. clothes, his hair messy, looking once again like a boy. But no matter how hard
  3838. I tried, I couldn’t look at him the same. I couldn’t look at him without seeing
  3839. that white cotton tail, that cute little up-do, those long, smooth legs that
  3840. belonged to a beautiful female supermodel and not my teenaged-boy
  3841. neighbour. I tried my best to avoid him, to avoid looking at him, to pretend
  3842. like I’d seen nothing, but it seemed like he was always there, always around.
  3843. Maybe I’d just never paid much attention before. Maybe he wasn’t around
  3844. anymore than usual. Luckily, he wasn’t in any of my classes.
  3845. It was at the end of the day, when I was at my locker collecting my
  3846. textbooks and stuffing them into my bag, that I found a note. It must have
  3847. been slipped through the ventilation slit at the top of my locker door. I opened
  3848. it. The note was written with a pink pen in the most feminine hand-writing
  3849. imaginable—soft curves, bubbly lettering, big circles over the I’s. It read: “I
  3850. like it when you watch.”
  3851. My heart skipped a beat and I looked around, hoping to find some clue as
  3852. to who left the note. No one was looking my way. No one looked any more
  3853. suspicious than the next person. I had a good idea who left the note but I
  3854. didn’t like the implications…
  3855. If it was Aaron who slipped that note into my locker, it meant he knew I
  3856. could see him. It meant he could see me, which meant he saw me jerking off
  3857. while he fucked that suction-dildo. Shit. I crumpled the note up and threw it
  3858. in the garbage. My heart was thudding at a rapid pace, like a machine-gun,
  3859. running hot, feeding into its last belt of ammunition.
  3860. My heart didn’t slow down until I was at home, in my room. I had to sit
  3861. down on my bed and stare at myself in my mirror. It must have been a
  3862. coincidence. But if someone else left that note, what did it mean? Who liked
  3863. it when I watched what? What girl had I watched do anything? Unless it was
  3864. a mistake—a note meant for someone else and not me. Someone got the
  3865. wrong locker and made a silly mistake. Who was I kidding? The note was
  3866. from Aaron and I knew it. Maybe he couldn’t see me (or maybe he could), but
  3867. somehow he knew I was watching. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
  3868. That night I went out into the yard and looked into my bedroom window.
  3869. With my lights turned off, the room was black—it might as well have been a
  3870. brick wall, though my viewing angle from the ground wasn’t the same as the
  3871. angle from the room across the lane—I couldn’t imagine it was much
  3872. different.
  3873. I went up to my bathroom and splashed some cool water on my face. I
  3874. was overthinking the stupid note. It must have been from someone else, about
  3875. something else—probably something much more innocent than I thought, too.
  3876. Maybe some girl just wanted me to watch her volleyball game or something.
  3877. A few weeks passed and I forgot all about the note.
  3878. Until one night, when I was getting ready for bed, and that light across the
  3879. way flicked on again. It was Aaron, once again, slipping into his sister’s
  3880. bedroom. I dove down behind my bed faster than a Marine under fire. My
  3881. lights were already off, so there was no way he could know I was there,
  3882. awake, watching.
  3883. He went through the same routine, carefully undressing, tiptoeing through
  3884. the room, fetching that drool-inducing bunny costume and slipping it over his
  3885. smooth, naked body. I still couldn’t figure out how he had tits—maybe some
  3886. kind of genetic anomaly? Some sort of weird birth defect? Maybe he was
  3887. born with boy and girl parts? That happened occasionally, right? Who the hell
  3888. knows. But my curiosity was getting stronger. I swear his tits seemed bigger
  3889. today, fuller, bouncier. I watched cautiously from behind my bed barricade.
  3890. Again, he walked up to the window to admire the way his body looked in
  3891. that Playboy Bunny costume, and it looked pretty fine as far as I was
  3892. concerned. Standing profile, he shook his butt, watching his little cotton tail
  3893. wiggle. He made a pretty cute girl for a guy.
  3894. This time, he sat up on his sister’s bed, feet planted next to his ass, his
  3895. crotch aimed in my direction. He leaned back onto his shoulders and he
  3896. pulled the black bottom to the side, revealing his cock and his butthole. Then,
  3897. he used one hand to spread his butt cheeks and with the other, he started to
  3898. run the tip of his finger in circles around his asshole. And once again, I found
  3899. myself strangely mesmerized by his feminine beauty, despite his hardening
  3900. cock and the Adam’s apple, which he kept hidden with a black lacy choker.
  3901. He let his index finger slip into his asshole.
  3902. I remembered that note. “I like it when you watch.” He looked up,
  3903. seemingly right at me, between his legs. I fell down quickly behind my bed
  3904. and I waited for a minute before resurfacing. There was no way he could see
  3905. me—his own window, with that light on, would have been a mirror, never
  3906. mind being able to see into my bedroom. I was just psyching myself out.
  3907. Slowly, I rose back up. He was still seemingly looking right at me. Now, he
  3908. had the tip of a long dildo pressed up against his asshole. His cock was rockhard
  3909. and laying on his silky black abdomen. One of his bunny ears was folded
  3910. down, which actually made the whole outfit a little bit cuter. I watched as he
  3911. pushed the dildo inside of him.
  3912. Shit. That familiar tingle ran through my body, bringing with it the urge to
  3913. reach down and grab my manhood. I was getting hard. I couldn’t look away
  3914. from my precious ladyboy across the way as he plunged that dildo deep into
  3915. his asshole. He let his head fall back and his lips part, as if euphoria was
  3916. consuming him entirely. I couldn’t get over his ass—it was tighter and perkier
  3917. than any of the girls in our school. Once the dildo was in deep, he began to
  3918. pull it out. It seemed to slide out forever, as if it had been jammed in fifteen
  3919. feet. He pushed the tip out and then, without wasting a beat, he began to
  3920. plunge it back in, this time faster. Every time was faster. After a few plunges,
  3921. he had a quick rhythm.
  3922. I began to beat my cock to that very rhythm. I couldn’t help but imagine
  3923. being in that room, my cock in his asshole, holding him down on that bed,
  3924. watching as I slide in deep, over and over.
  3925. He smiled, again, looking in my direction. My heart jumped. What if he
  3926. could see me? What difference would it make? He couldn’t tell anyone
  3927. without also telling them that he got dressed up in his sister’s Playboy Bunny
  3928. outfit and then rammed giant dildos into his asshole. If he could see me, it
  3929. was like our little secret—no one would ever know but us. This thought gave
  3930. me a strange wave of relief.
  3931. He began to beat his hard dick. There was no sight more perfect—that
  3932. little bunny outfit was like cancer in my brain—malignant, unavoidable. The
  3933. image was always there, the little cotton tail, those floppy ears, those tits
  3934. jiggling, struggling to stay contained by the flimsy number.
  3935. My body convulsed as I came, and somehow, Aaron came at the same
  3936. exact moment. My cum blasted all over the side of my bed. His blasted all
  3937. over his silky black belly. The bunny outfit was going to need a wash after
  3938. that giant white load.
  3939. And then he did something that made my heart sink into my gut. He
  3940. winked at me and blew a kiss my way. Or maybe he winked at his own
  3941. reflection in the window and blew a kiss at himself. Of course, that’s what I
  3942. convinced myself. But the next day at school, I learned that I was maybe
  3943. wrong—that my fears and anxious instincts were possibly right.
  3944. There was another note in my locker. Same pink colour, same bubbly
  3945. writing. “Last night was fun. Why not come over sometime?” That sinking
  3946. feeling returned to my gut. Coincidence was out of the question now. This
  3947. was unmistakably Aaron.
  3949. A few weeks passed and Christmas break came. There was both a sense of
  3950. disappointment and a sense of relief when Aaron and his parents went away
  3951. for the break to visit family, out of state. I was starting to like the excitement
  3952. of Aaron’s little shows, watching him fuck himself in that little bunny
  3953. costume. But I knew it was wrong—everything about it. Taboo is an
  3954. understatement. The fact that I was starting to look forward to it scared me
  3955. half to death. But I did—I looked forward to it. I stayed up late every night,
  3956. hoping to see that light flick on.
  3957. The day before he left, there was one last note in my locker. Taped to the
  3958. note was a small black tape—kind of like a cassette tape, but thicker. I didn’t
  3959. know what it was for or how to play it, but the note said, “Play me on
  3960. Christmas.”
  3961. I took the tape to my Technology Studies teacher and asked if he
  3962. recognized it. He did. He said it was a MiniDV tape, for an old camcorder. I
  3963. asked if he had one, but he didn’t, so I was stuck with a tape I couldn’t play—
  3964. a format that was obsolete.
  3965. It was a quiet Christmas Eve when my curiosity got the better of me. My
  3966. parents had gone out to the mall and the snow was starting to fall in big, fluffy
  3967. flakes. It was only five in the evening but it was already dark. So I decided to
  3968. sneak out back and try to get into Aaron’s house. There were questions
  3969. plaguing my mind. I wanted to see if I could find something Aaron had
  3970. written, to match the note’s handwriting. I wanted to see what my bedroom
  3971. looked like from across the way. That’s what I did first.
  3972. I managed to climb in through an unlocked window into the kitchen.
  3973. Then, I crept up the stairs, towards Aaron’s sister’s room. I slipped in and
  3974. looked across the way. You couldn’t see into my room at all, even with the
  3975. lights off. I flicked the lights off and could only see my reflection in the
  3976. window. I turned the lights off as soon as that was confirmed, before any
  3977. neighbours called the police on me.
  3978. Next, I went to find Aaron’s room. I actually had no idea which room was
  3979. his, so I ended up checking behind every door. I eventually found his room in
  3980. the basement of the house. It looked like an ordinary teen boy’s room: music
  3981. and movie posters on the wall, a small TV with a Nintendo hooked up to it.
  3982. There was nothing especially revealing. I dug through his desk, and found a
  3983. letter that was handwritten in the same style—the same pink pen—as the
  3984. letters he’d been writing me. So it was confirmed: he knew I’d been watching.
  3985. Or at least, he’d assumed I’d been watching. How he knew was still a mystery
  3986. seeing as I was totally invisible on the other side of that window.
  3987. As I was putting the letter away, something caught my eye. It was a
  3988. medical label, the kind they give you with your prescriptions at the pharmacy.
  3989. I picked it up and read it. It was in Aaron’s name. I made note of the
  3990. prescription name, a real mouthful of scientific gibberish, and slipped back
  3991. out the kitchen window, towards my house.
  3992. The prescription was most commonly used in hormone replacement for
  3993. men transitioning into becoming women. The article I found said that one of
  3994. the effects is an increase in breast size, and, if the patient takes the medicine
  3995. young enough, they can grow to have full-sized breasts, just like their female
  3996. counterparts. Apparently, if taken young enough (from before puberty), a boy
  3997. can grow to be almost indistinguishable from a woman—penis aside, of
  3998. course. I could only imagine that Aaron had been taking the hormone pills for
  3999. a while now, seeing as when he wasn’t in his baggy boy clothes, he looked
  4000. like a smokin’ hot babe. I wondered if his parents knew about the pills, about
  4001. his transition? Their bedroom was filled with religious trinkets and crosses, so
  4002. I doubted it.
  4003. That night, I found myself staring out the window into that dark bedroom
  4004. across the lane. In a way, Aaron was a woman. I mean, sure he had a penis,
  4005. but he had the breasts and the hormones, and he didn’t have body hair. Was it
  4006. really so taboo to be into his little bunny shows? Did that make me gay? A
  4007. pervert, maybe—that much I was already at terms with. Although he did like
  4008. it when I watched, he said so himself. And he wanted me to come over
  4009. sometime. My heart skipped at the thought. Right now, we were invisible to
  4010. one another. We were separated by two walls and we only knew one another
  4011. in our fantasies.
  4012. And so what if, by someone else’s definition, I was gay. If being into
  4013. Aaron made me gay, then so be it—maybe I was gay.
  4014. Did he really want me to come over? Come over and do what? I
  4015. wondered. Did he want me to come over and spread his beautiful legs and
  4016. plunge my cock into his tight ass? Watch that little cotton tail bounce up and
  4017. down while his ball sack slapped against my butt? Did he want to sink down
  4018. and slip his plump red lips around my girth and make me come in his mouth
  4019. while his butt was perked up, tail up, towards the ceiling, back curved so
  4020. delicately the way it did?
  4021. Fuck, I couldn’t bare the thought without becoming an anxious mess with
  4022. a rock-hard erection. If I did go over one night, I probably wouldn’t have