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Surgeon General's Warning: Smokin' In The Boys Room free porn video
Surgeon General's Warning: Smokin' In the Boys Room
By Debi
This is a work of fiction that deals with transgendered themes and explicit
sexual content. Please, if you're not 18 years of age, or if you find this sort
of thing offensive, then just don't read it.
If you'd like to include this story on any TG fiction lists, you're free to do
so with my blessing. Let me know what you think, please; constructive criticism
is gratefully accepted.
Enjoy the story!
Love,
Debi
*****************
I pushed the door to the high school men's room open with a small creak;
wincing at the sound, I glanced up at Bret, a good friend of mine who was
acting as the lookout. Bret and I were supposed to be in 4th period English,
but we'd made plans to cut class and sneak in a quick smoke before heading off
to gym class.
Now, Bret's parents hated having their son hang out with me; I lived on the
'wrong side of the tracks' and they saw me as a bad influence. They weren't
entirely wrong I guess; I'd started smoking when I was in eighth grade by
sneaking my mom's or my dad's cigarettes from time to time. I have to be honest
with you; I enjoyed smoking a lot. Now, here we were, juniors in high school,
and the smoking angle not only gave me a huge boost of self-confidence, it gave
me look older (and, I thought, a lot more sophisticated) than I actually was.
Bret had pissed his parents off by hanging out with me anyways. Why, I had no
idea; maybe he liked to live in my shadow or something. In any case, he was
kind of cool, so I just let him stay. Bret confessed to me he hadn't had a
cigarette in his life, and he mentioned he'd like to give it a shot. Which was
what brought us to the men's room.
I stepped inside and took a quick look in and under the stalls to make sure we
were alone. I grinned and gave him the 'all-clear' sign to Bret, and he stepped
inside. "Are you sure about this, Gabe?" he asked nervously. "I got a bad
feeling about this."
"Would you just cool your jets and relax?" I chided. "No one's gonna come in.
Leave it to me; I thought of everything."
I went to the door, opened it, and hung out a 'Bathroom Out Of Order Sign'. I
shut it and knelt down, taking a doorstop out of my pocket and my gym towel
that I'd hidden underneath my coat. I wedged the doorstep securely under the
door, and gave it a couple of experimental tugs to make sure it couldn't be
pushed open from outside. I then fit my towel under the door to keep the smoke
from being detected from the outside.
"There", I said reassuringly. "You satisfied now?"
He nodded, apparently satisfied.
I was brimming over with confidence; most would bypass the bathroom when they
saw the 'Out Of Order' sign, and the ones who were still stupid enough to try
it wouldn't be able to budge the door. Yep. I had it all figured out.
I gave him a wicked grin and produced a battered pack of cigarettes from a
shirt pocket. I flipped one out for him, and took one for myself.
Bret looked at me, awestruck with my expertise. "Where'd you get these?" he
asked. "Did you swipe these from the store?"
"Shit, no", I replied. I was a lot of things, but I was never a thief. "The
last thing I need is my parents on my ass for shoplifting. I found these along
the side of the road when I was riding home from school day before yesterday.
The pack looks like shit, but the cigarettes are intact."
I turned it over and gave the pack a closer look. It was a silvery color, with
strange writing on it. "I've been wanting to try one of these bad boys out.
Can't make out the writing, though; they're probably foreign or something."
Bret gave his cigarette a closer look. "Uhm, Gabe, these cigarettes are white,
and they're long and skinny. They look like women's cigarettes."
I glared at him. "A cigarette's a cigarette, asshole; you smoke them all the
same way. Now, are you done complaining, or do I give your ass a toss outside?"
"No problem, Gabe", he said apologetically. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I
guess." He stuck the cigarette awkwardly in his mouth.
I brought my lighter to life and lit it for him, telling him to take it easy at
first. He gagged on it, coughed a couple of times, and madly tried to wave the
smoke out from in front of his face.
"Shut up, man", I hissed. "You're gonna get us caught. Let a real man show you
how it's done."
I casually lit my own cigarette, and drew on it slowly, feeling the smoke
filling the inside of my mouth. I inhaled it, feeling it fill my lungs, and
after a couple of seconds, I blew out a cloud of smoke. I got a little light
headed, but I blew it off, chalking it up to the usual nicotine rush I got when
I went without for a couple of days, and its difference from the brand I
normally smoked. There was no way I was gonna let him see that though. We took
a seat on a couch that had been conveniently provided. It was funny how I never
noticed a couch in the men's room before; it must have been put in within the
last day or so.
With the windows shut and the door barricaded to keep the smoke in and the
intruders out, it wasn't long before the place had started to fill up with the
smoke we were exhaling. It had also gotten warmer, so I compensated for it by
taking my jacket off and unbuttoning my shirt. Bret followed suit; gym was
coming up next period anyways. The less I had to work to get changed into my
gym clothes, the better.
Basically we spent the next few minutes making small talk in hushed whispers,
alternating it with coaching him on his smoking style. It was bizarre, but he
was adjusting to it faster than I thought. "Say, Bret, take it easy on this
first one, okay? You're gonna pass out if you keep going like that."
There was something about the way Bret was smoking that didn't sit right with
me. Not only did he seem to be adjusting to it well, his legs were crossed at
the knee, and his arms were crossed in front of him, his cigarette hand holding
it palm up. The way a woman would look if she smoked.
"Gabe", he said, "I feel pretty weird. Is this what's supposed to happen?"
"You fag", I snorted. "That's just the nicotine. And why don't you try holding
your smoke like a man?"
"I dunno", Bret said with an apologetic smile. "It just feels more comfortable
this way. After all, it's a woman's cigarette isn't it?"
He stared at me strangely. "And where do you get off calling me a pussy? At
least I'm not wearing lip gloss."
Lip gloss? What the fuck? I licked my lips experimentally. He was right; I
could taste it in my mouth and I could see its color on the filter of my
cigarette. Now, believe me, I wanted to rub it off. But for some strange
reason, there was a part of me that wanted it left on.
I stood up from the couch. "This is getting too fucking weird, Bret", I said.
"Let's put these out and get back to class, alright?"
The act of standing up gave me such a rush that the world spun crazily out of
control. I knelt down on all fours until I felt I could move without throwing
up. I saw a bead of sweat drop from the tip of my nose onto the linoleum.
There was something funny about those cigarettes, I thought. My heartbeat began
to race, and the blood began to roar inside my skull. Oh my God - had we been
poisoned?
One thing was for sure, we had to get out of the men's room and get some help.
I moved towards the door and tried to take the doorstop and the towel out. I
panicked when I couldn't budge them. "What the hells wrong with you, Bret, Come
over here and give me a hand!"
Bret was useless; he fell to the floor, gasped and winced in pain. "Damn it,
Gabe", he groaned, "something's wrong inside. What's in these cigarettes?"
Now that he'd mentioned it, I became aware of it myself; a growing nausea in
the pit of stomach that seemed to spreading outward. It took nearly all of my
waning strength to crawl back and help him back onto the couch. I barely made
it to the couch myself before my muscles seemed to fail me.
"Bret!" I cried out, "there's something in these cigarettes! Put it out!!"
I tried to extinguish my cigarette, but every time I thought to get rid it, my
body was racked with pain. Only when I didn't try to fight it did the pain ease
to the point where I could tolerate it. I couldn't get it out of my hand!
"I.can't.get rid of it, Gabe!" Bret exclaimed. "Something's.controlling.me! Oh
my God.I can't stop it!"
My mind was still my own, but my body felt like it was on autopilot. I brought
the cigarette back to my lips and took a long, languorous drag. In the
stillness of the bathroom I heard a large whooshing sound as I drew the smoke
deeply into my lungs.
The area immediately under my nipples became painful. My free hand reached up
to touch one of them and I felt a small ball of tissue that I knew hadn't been
there before; they were tender and hurt like hell when I tried to move.
The pain I'd felt had now subsided, and I was able to get back some control
back in my free hand. I held it up and stifled a cry.
The pain had subsided to the point where I could get some of my feeling back in
my free hand. There was a tingling in my hand, almost like the feeling I got
when I accidentally shocked myself. Curious, I held it up for inspection.
I could only watch in horror, as with each passing second, the nails on my
hands began to lengthen. The changes didn't stop there; my fingertips became
longer and more effeminate. Thankfully, the tingling in my body stopped, as did
the changes. "Bret, we've got to get the fuck out of here!"
I looked over at Bret. He was no more in control of himself than I was at the
moment. He was still Bret in the face, but his features had softened and there
were some differences occurring through his body. His washboard stomach, the
one he'd worked so hard to develop in Gym, had smoothed out and flattened. The
hard, lean, lines of his body had softened, and his shirt hung on him like a
tent. His nails were as long, if not longer, than mine. His unruly mass of
curly brown hair had somehow straightened out and turned a lighter shade. Like
me, lumps had begun to form underneath his nipples. A tear trickled down his
face.
A glance at the mirror across the room told me all I needed to know. We'd
started to transform, and we were stuck in the middle, somewhere between male
and female!
"I can't, Gabe", he said with a sob. "Every time I try to fight it, it hurts! I
don't want to take another drag on this cigarette. But it feels soooo goood,
Gabe!"
"Fight it!" I said weakly. But I felt an all-consuming craving for my cigarette
begin to well up from somewhere inside me. There was a warmth that seemed to
invade every cell in my body. Neither of us could stop it.
There was no urge to stop now; I couldn't fight the incredible craving any
longer. Bret and I brought our cigarettes back to our lips.
I watched him as his cheeks began to hollow with the effort; the tip of his
cigarette glowed brightly for at least a full six or seven seconds. His lips,
now full and sensuous, parted as Bret removed the cigarette from his lips,
revealing a dense ball of creamy, white smoke that filled his mouth. He
inhaled it with a force that I would have had a hard time matching. Bret tilted
his head back, smoke roiling from his lips and nostrils.
He was still Bret in the eyes, but it was getting harder to see traces of Bret
in his face. His hair lightened and lengthened. And again, the changes stopped.
His face (her face?) wore a wan expression, but I could still see the
frightened look behind his eyes.
I succumbed to my own cravings by this point. I began to take rapid, deep,
lung-filling drags. I had to get as much smoke as possible. I wanted it. With
every fiber of my being.
I was amazed at the sensation when it began to hit me again in waves. This
wasn't like anything I'd ever experienced before! Some part of me felt like it
was slipping away, but I was so turned on now I didn't care any more.
I unzipped the fly of my jeans open and I guided Bret's hand to my stiffening
cock, and the nails on his feminine hand began to feel delicious as he lovingly
stroked it. What was left of my consciousness looked into Bret's eyes. His
frightened look had vanished, replaced by a some dark, inner fire. Bret wasn't
home anymore.
The heady combination of smoke, combined with the taste of it on my lips and
the sensations as Bret vigorously began to pump it, was amazing.
The nipples on my chest became hard and erect, and the lumps behind them
softened and began to swell. I could feel the weight of them when I tried to
move. My arms were thinner and slimmer, and I brushed back a lock of long brown
hair from my eyes. There was no sense in fighting it any longer; I relented and
gave into my passions completely, marveling as the changes began to run their
course.
Bret's hair had now grown past his shoulders, and had taken on a dark blonde
hue. He was becoming lovelier even as I watched him. Tilting his head back with
an expression of utter ecstasy, Bret inhaled yet again, only to part his lips
and let the smoke drift upward into his nostrils in a perfect French inhale.
"Oh, Gabe", he cooed, "these cigarettes are so goood.I don't ever want to
stop!" He reached up and tweaked a nipple on my ever expanding breasts.
It was as if I was wired for electricity, and my body jumped at the merest
touch. My cigarette held firmly in my mouth, with each deep inhale, I felt my
breasts expand and push further and further outward. I could barely contain
myself as they bulged out of my shirt. I didn't care; I was beyond caring, and
I continued to inhale deeply. I gave a soft, alto pitched moan of pleasure.
Bret's body was changing to keep pace with mine. His nose became small and
pert; his lips became fuller, and his now light blonde hair quickly spilled
outward from his shoulders. He began to pant, and take deeper and deeper
breaths of air. His breasts expanded and burst forth; his aureoles became dark;
the nipples became engorged and swollen. His hands flew inside of his pants and
he began to madly stroke what was left of his diminishing manhood.
A signal in my brain told me to push outward, and I submitted to its demand. I
felt my abdomen begin to contract and I thrust my hips outward, moaning and
writhing, like a crazed animal in heat. With each contraction, my hips pushed
out further and further; I felt my ass began to pillow out underneath me. I
felt my cock shrink and wither away into my now feminine pubic region. An
opening formed inside me, and it became wet with arousal. Within me, I felt a
yearning beyond description. An emptiness that had to be filled. I begin to
finger my clitty, driving my fingers further and further inside me in a
desperate attempt to bring myself to orgasm.
Bret's ass rounded and became pear shaped, his waist narrowed and the bulge
within his trousers disappeared. He brought his cigarette to his lips, and his
cheeks indented as he drew the smoke inside his body; as he inhaled, his
breasts expanded even further outward. I saw him tremble as I heard a button
pop under the stress. His body shuddered with the signs of an impending orgasm.
I worked my hand in and out of my new pussy faster and faster, my fingers slick
with its juices. My senses were on fire - I begged for release.
My body shook - an orgasm, unlike anything I'd ever experienced swelled and
burst forth inside me, with such force that it curled my toes. We climaxed
together, screaming in ecstasy as wave after wave of mind blowing orgasms
surged through our bodies. I descended into darkness, blacking out from sheer
sensory overload.
When I came to, I looked over at Brittany. She lay there sleeping, a blissful
smile on her face. I looked at my watch. I gently shook her awake. "Get up,
Brittany, you sleepyhead! We've only 10 minutes to get to gym class!"
"What happened, Gabrielle?" she asked. "I remember us having a cigarette, and I
must have dozed off."
I pulled my panties back up and smoothed out my miniskirt. I took a brush from
my purse and I fluffed it up a little. The boys always thought my hair and my
eyes were my best features. It was too bad they didn't compare to my titties!
"I think I must've dozed off, too. We'd better get going. Nelson Kincaid, the
football captain's going to be there, and I'm going to corner him into taking
me to Junior Prom!"
Brittany went to the mirror, and she touched up her lip-gloss. "Not if I don't
corner him first!" she giggled. "I was just kidding, Gabby. I'm glad we're best
friends", she said. "If we weren't, I'd fight you for him!"
I put my cigarettes back into my purse, once I was satisfied that we'd
straightened up. I took out the doorstop and the towel, and opened the door
easily. I took down the sign.
The sign on the bathroom door read: WOMEN.
Brittany and I left, our hips swinging and our heels clicking in the empty
hallway out towards the gym.
< FIN >
Mila
- 02.04.2022
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