The Brotherhood Of Swain free porn video

For those of you who just want to get to the &(|&@#|)($ing story and ignore my unnecessarily long foreword, I suggest that you do by searching for ***, which will bring you to the start of the story proper. My comments aren't particularly interesting. Before you do, however, standard boilerplate: this story shouldn't be read by any decent, moral, upstanding members of society who are offended by sexual themes including gender transformation and rape. It contains relatively vulgar language and description of vulgar acts. You have been warned. This story contains a slow transformation in my opinion, though it only happens over two or three days. This is part one of however many stories I feel like writing. Now, for my boring thoughts: I'm a long-time fan of Fictionmania, and I have been lurking about, reading stories, for a good many years now. While some have been good (or good enough), as a professional writer myself, I find a vast majority of them lacking lately. It used to be that I could find something to interest me personally every other day, but that quickly changed to once a week?once every other week?once a month?and eventually, it became an all-too unusual treat for me to find anything that was even remotely interesting. I'm talking only about poor writing. It isn't all bad stuff, just that for me, personally, it seems like individuals have gotten away from the sorts of stories that I really enjoy. Magical transformations, primarily, but also stories that focus on relationships, love, and, on a deeper level, the dichotomy of the sexes. I am a student of life, and it is always fascinating to me to see how we treat men and women differently but also, moreover, how we treat ourselves different and how our own self-imposed roles in society develop based on some form of sexual identity. Better yet, how does that role change when a gender is reversed suddenly for whatever reason? Whether by magical or mundane means. As academic as that sounds, TG stories are, to me, primarily sexual in nature. I'm not ashamed to admit that is why I read and, ultimately, write TG. However, I do not enjoy mindless fuck-fests (ok, I do, but not on any deep, meaningful level). I like some depth to my stories. I'm a romantic, and I enjoy romantic stories. Stories with gender alteration (and transformation in general) just have a different appeal to me, and they're that much more fulfilling to me on both a literary level (after all, your typical romance story has been done to death) and a sexual level (I do not, nor will I ever, know how transgender themes, read: not transsexual or cross-dressing, appeal to me, nor, I'd wager, do any of you). That being said, this is by no means my magnum opus. I wouldn't even consider it a very good literary work. What this particular story is, to me, is my attempt to get back to writing. This is by no means my first TG story, but it is my first one I've shared. I'm sure it will serve the purpose it was meant to serve, and I you enjoy reading it. Upon finishing this story, I am both pleased and displeased with the result. It's a reasonable story with some moments of literary interest and clever writing, again, not my best work but it's readable. At the same time, I feel the series of events in the story to be rushed, perhaps due to my own impatience as a writer (once I start something, I want it finished. This particular work was finished in about three days of real working time), but since it is neither my best work nor what I would consider even to be a particularly meaningful piece, I will leave it as it is without heavy editing (though primarily it's because I'm lazy and hate editing my own work). It reads well enough as is (I have read it through several times), but I'm sure I've left my fair share of mistakes. *** The Brotherhood of Swain, Part 1 "Have you noticed the scenery has been a lot better around here over the last week?" Tyler Gray and Hunter Mackey craned their necks, almost comically in synch, to watch the new girl, Michelle, meander by, parading around in those tight, leather pants of hers. It was quite a parade, too, with half the student body (notably, the male half) following her like love- struck puppies, as they always did, offering to carry her books, asking her if she liked movies, where she was from, if she would marry them. It was positively sickening, Tyler thought. "Don't they have anything better to do?" He muttered, shaking his head and slamming his locker shut. Hunter did not follow suit. Indeed, it didn't even seem he heard his friend. He was clearly watching the show himself until she and her entourage vanished around the corner. "And once again I ask you," Hunter muttered, turning back to his childhood friend, "are you gay?" "You know I'm not, Hunter," Tyler returned with exasperation, "I just like a girl who shows a little restraint. 'A prize that need not be won- '" "'Is no prize at all,'" Hunter finished, throwing his hands up. "Yeah, I've heard your little insightful quote a million times, Ty. I think it roughly translates to, 'I like penises.'" Tyler slugged his friend companionably with a smirk that was returned as the two made their way to their own classes, following the trail of the parade, since Tyler had his final class of the day with the very same girl they were discussing. "Say, why don't you put a good word in for me with Ms. Tightpants, Ty good buddy?" Hunter continued, draping an arm around Tyler's shoulders with a lopsided grin. "I have it on good authority that you'll be paired up with her for the chemistry lab today." "Good authority?" Tyler muttered with a quirked brow. "You wouldn't mean Jake, the teacher's aid, whom I noticed you sitting with at lunch? Why don't you just say 'Jake told me'? Honestly, 'on good authority'? Sometimes I wonder about you." "Come on, buddy!" Hunter pleaded, grabbing Tyler's shirt collar so he couldn't enter his classroom. "I'm desperate, man! I made myself a promise to only sleep with super hotties, and the pickings are so slim around here that I'll never lose my cherry!" "Chelsea's had her eye on you," Tyler muttered, exasperated. "She told me herself." "Ms. Four-Eyes?" Hunter returned, making a sickened face. "She's so?flat." "Jesus, Hunter, you're so superficial," Tyler snapped. "Not everything in life is tits and ass, you know." "You're only saying that 'cause she's your friend," Hunter muttered with some amount of scorn. "Honestly, how you can hang out with those losers is beyond me." Tyler sighed and shook his head. It was no secret that Hunter did not "approve" of Tyler's selection in friends. Hunter, a jock through and through, was pretty tight friends only with that sect, while Tyler made friends with a variety of other cliques, which Hunter just couldn't understand. It wasn't that Tyler wasn't fit to be a jock. The two of them played in all the sports together in middle school and, quite often, Tyler excelled, even beyong Hunter, who was by no means a slouch. Then, inexplicably, Tyler stopped playing sports in his freshman year of high school. Hunter, who continued wearing the jersey and was currently one of the rising stars of just about every sport under the sun, simply never understood the choice. Over time, Tyler ceased getting along with the crowd, and branched out to make new acquaintances, though never friends, for the stoic boy, though well-liked, did not make friends easily. He considered those friends he did have to be very close, but he was unwilling to give the honor to just anyone. He'd known Hunter his entire life, though, so it was almost as if he was grandfathered in, and the two were thick as thieves, despite their differences. There were few people Tyler would rather spend time with. He just didn't want to have to spend it with Hunter's other friends, many of whom he'd been close to in middle school and drifted away from. The warning bell cut off the conversation before it could continue any further, though Hunter did give his friend a pleading look before darting off to be late for his next class. "Don't forget, you're taking me to the mall tonight!" Hunter called out from halfway down the hall, causing Tyler to hesitate at the door. "I didn't say I'd take you the mall tonight," He called back, a bit surprised. Hunter just laughed, "Where else are you going to tell me all the details?" Tyler just rolled his eyes and slipped into his classroom, which had at least twice its actual enrolled students within, all of whom would be late for their actual last-period class. "Tyler Gray and?Melissa Grainger," the teacher droned. "You'll be paired up for this lab." Well whaddya know? Tyler thought to himself, not looking quite as elated as any other boy would be to hear the news. Hunter's "sources" were right. He'll probably kill me now. Melissa gave him a sly smirk from across the room while nibbling on the end of her pencil tantalizingly. Tyler would have lied if he said he didn't find her appealing?but he just didn't have it in him to be a doting lapdog, not even to that perfect body. He also couldn't deny that she did, in fact, have a perfect body. While still undeniably high school aged, she had the curvaceous body of a college student, or even an adult, all the while possessing the youth and innocence (though that was questionable, by how she carried herself) of a high-schooler. She just wasn't his type, unlike the rest of the male population of the school, it seemed. "Looks like we'll be studying a little chemistry together," Melissa cooed, practically into his ear, surprising him with just how lost he had been in his thoughts. He glanced around and realized that he and his lab partner were the center of attention, though most avoided looking at them as they began work on their own labs. Maybe Hunter wasn't the only person who was going to kill him, he thought grimly. "I guess so," Tyler finally replied with a sigh. "So why don't we get started?" "Or maybe your mind is on anatomy?" She added coyly, seeming to ignore his request to get to work, though she let show a little bit of a pout at his seeming resilience to her charms. Tyler rolled his eyes and actually pushed away from her a bit, not rudely, but just enough to know he wasn't interested in whatever she had in mind. Melissa actually looked surprised at his resistance, but that look of shock faded quickly to a sly grin. "It's nice to see a boy with half a brain," she said in somewhat hushed tones, trailing after him to their lab station. "The other kids in this school are so easy." "They weren't like that in your old school?" Tyler asked. "Seems to me most high school kids thing with their crotch." "You have no idea," she laughed. Her tone was completely different now, almost human. It was like she had turned off some switch inside her brain. She still had a delightful waggle in her rear, but it seemed to be mostly show for the other boys who watched her and were very likely to fail this particular lab. The whole situation left a good deal of irritated girls. "I'll trade lab partners with you, Tyler," Rick Manson pleaded as he passed. When Tyler ignored him, he quickly dug in his pocket, "Twenty bucks? Come on, pal!" Melissa gave the pimply-faced chubby boy a small pout as she passed, "Don't you think I'm worth more than that, killer?" The tone she used seemed to melt Rick in his seat, and Melissa just let out a delightful giggle as she walked past. Rick Manson's lab partner, Jillian Keller, looked about ready to slug him. If Tyler thought he was free from Melissa's constant attempts to woo him with her feminine charms, he was mistaken, however. As the lab progressed, she seemed all too eager to assume any position that accented her curves, sometimes quite blatantly. Tyler, who was actually trying to focus on the lab (since his grade in this particular class was down), was getting a bit fed up. "Listen, Melissa," Tyler finally said. "I really just want to get a good grade on this so I don't fail this class. I'm sure you're a great girl, but I'm not going to compete with the entire student body for someone who seems to have no problem playing everyone." Instead of anger, however, Melissa just gave Tyler a coy grin, nodding a bit. "You're a very special boy, Tyler," she said, actually sounding older, wiser than she had previously, causing Tyler to furrow his brow. Melissa said nothing more, and actually seemed to continue working on the lab?or rather, start working on the lab, since she had hardly done any work up to this point. Tyler was pleased, though he wondered what was going on in the girl's head. He was fairly certain she was completely insane. As the class wore on, Melissa began to become more and more distressed with the lab until, just before the bell rang, she turned to Tyler with an exasperated look on her face. "I just don't get it, Tyler," she said. Tyler just sighed, completely unsurprised with the proclamation. "I think I need some help on this one." "Well, it's really kind of simple when you-" Tyler was cut off, however, by the bell signaling the end of the day, and Melissa actually looked a little panicked. "Turn in your papers before you leave, class," the teacher drolled. "I will have these labs graded by Monday." "Mister Miller," Melissa called out. "I didn't finish!" "Then you better stick around until you do, Ms. Grainger," the teacher returned with little sympathy. "I'd hate to see you fail your first lab in my class, but I'm not going to roll over for you." Most of the class giggled or snickered juvenilely at the comment, but for once, Melissa didn't take advantage of the sexual innuendo, instead, she looked positively ill. Tyler watched her for a moment. Since he'd been in the class longer than the new girl, he already had much of the paper done, and was just wrapping it up as the rest of the class filed out. He noticed Melissa was only half done, however, despite their joint work. He let out a soft sigh, "I'll stay and help," he finally said, though he would miss the bus and have to walk home. It wasn't an exorbitant distance, but it was enough for it to be a slight irritation. Melissa clapped her hands with glee and bounced happily, "Do you mean it?" She cried, wrapping her arms around Tyler in a hug that even had him stammering stupidly. He was fairly certain he heard a number of nasty comments from the boys leaving the class, many of whom stayed later than they had to. "Yeah, fine," he muttered, trying to break the hug?though it was difficult for even him to resist the powerful urges that were coming over him. "It's fine. We are lab partners, aren't we?" Melissa giggled softly at the proclamation and the two turned back to their work, though Tyler didn't notice the wicked grin that snaked across her lips when he slipped his lab goggles back on. The duo had worked for an hour in Mister Miller's classroom before Melissa finally seemed to understand the concept of the lab enough to finish her paper. Mister Miller, as well as much of the school facility, had left by that point. It was, after all, Friday. Once they were finished, Melissa had turned to Tyler and planted a kiss on his cheek playfully. The kiss, which seemed rather innocent, made Tyler feel somewhat strange, like he had a flock of butterflies in his stomach. Then she'd looked up to him and said, "Meet me by Mister Mulwilder's room. I want to repay you for your kindness." The way she'd said it, so matter-of-factly, almost kind, had Tyler believing that the gesture was purely an innocent act of friendliness for helping her finish the lab even though it cost him a chunk of his Friday afternoon. In truth, however, he was wary of her intentions, and wondered what she really wanted. They'd gotten along well enough during the lab when she wasn't trying to seduce him, but something in the back of his mind still caused him to doubt her sincerity. So when he left Mister Miller's room and parted ways with her, he'd gone to his locker for his things, wholly intending to just leave her there. Something stopped him, however. Perhaps it was that he thought he'd feel guilty just standing her up like that. Perhaps it was his desire to maybe make friends with the girl. Perhaps it was the feeling, somewhere deep in his gut, that he actually did want to be seduced by the wily vixen. Whatever it was, he was almost surprised himself when he met Melissa outside the social studies room on the third floor. It was late enough that no one else was around, and, before Tyler could even utter a word, Melissa grabbed his hand with a playful, mischievous grin, and pulled him down the hall towards one of the broom closets. "What do you want?" Tyler asked with some exasperation, though his heart was hammering. Was this what he thought it was? What he was both afraid and anxious that it was? Still, he had the good grace to affect an irritated tone, though it was clear by the growing bulge in his pants that he was far from irritated. The infuriating girl, who pressed the door shut with her rear, cast him a cock-eyed, knowing grin as she slowly ran her hand down the leathery material of her top, deftly undoing the ties as if she'd practiced the maneuver a thousand times. "I've chosen you," she cooed in that voice of silk and cream she'd used to tempt so many other men. To say Tyler was surprised was an understatement. After all, she'd had boys practically hanging off of every part of her since she'd started attending classes a week ago. Tyler had shown no interest, besides a few forgivable double-takes as she sauntered by in those tight pants. In fact, pretty much every other boy in the school, even some of the homosexual ones, had shown infinitely more interest in her than he. So?why him? Had it been their closeness during the lab? That hardly seemed like enough time to "choose" him, and it hadn't exactly been companionable, with him rejecting her advances at every turn. His question must have been obvious, for her lop-sided grin grew that much more, "It's because you don't chase after me," she replied, letting her top hang tantalizingly loosely on her buxom form. He noticed she was wearing no bra, which only served to rile him up even more. "It's no fun hunting the dumb deer that comes right up to you. I'd rather find the one that has the predisposition to run." A prize that need not be won is no prize at all. Tyler's own words echoed almost eerily in his ears then, and suddenly he felt like a piece of meat, a deer, as she so eloquently put it, for the hunt. "I gotta go," Tyler murmured, surprising himself even. After all, even as they spoke, one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen was baring herself before him. He'd never seen a naked woman before, save that one time Rick Manson brought in that nudey magazine. Plaything or Pinthouse or something like that, and even then, he'd only cast it a fleeting glance. To have a girl so eager before him-it was any red-blooded teenager's dream. And yet, something about the situation, a tingling in the back of his neck, an odd feeling in the air, caused him to be apprehensive. Even when the leathery top fell to the ground in a heap, he found his desire to flee intensifying. And yet something, perhaps that part of his mind that was a red-blooded teenager, kept him rooted as he watched on with fascination as the tantalizing woman in the exotic leathers performed something of a strip tease for him. He had a sudden flash back to biology, when the class had watched a documentary on reptiles. Tyler had been fascinated by the portion of the film in which the narrator-guy with the thick British accent prattled on about snakes-and certain snakes that seemed to hypnotize their prey just before striking. His member strained at his jeans and he suddenly felt too warm. His desire to escape grew, but at the same time, his desire to stay peaked as Melissa began to wriggle out of those tantalizingly-tight pants of hers. Seductively, she stepped out of her panties and, seemingly on a whim, tossed them to him. I'll stay just a little longer, he told himself as he caught the frilly- pink garment, trying to find the room in his throat to swallow. After all, when will I ever have a chance like this again? But he suddenly knew his opportunity to flee had passed him by. Even if he'd still wanted to (and a part of him still did), the moment he saw nothing but skin on the exotic beauty (she had a completely shaved crotch! Did women actually shave their crotch?), he knew he was putty in her hands?and his crotch knew it to. "Why don't you let him out?" She cooed, stepping her dainty toes out of her discarded pants, "I can tell he wants to play." "Why are you doing this?" Tyler asked breathlessly, hardly able to find his voice in the surreal situation. "What do you want from me?" Melissa smiled up to him, raising herself onto her toes to bring her strawberry lips a paper-breadth from his before whispering, "Your manhood." If he had any resistance left, it all fled at that kiss. It was all he could do to make his hands work to relieve the pressure on his crotch, and no sooner had "Little Tyler" escaped his denim prison than did Melissa gather him eagerly up in her hands. As strained as he'd been, Tyler thought for sure he wouldn't have lasted long. A beautiful naked girl was one thing, but the prospect of having hot sex in the broom closet of his high school should have sent him over the edge. In fact, he felt that edge coming-but for some reason, it was like his arousal struck a wall that he was unable to overcome and it left him wanting more, craving more?craving that release that he felt was being denied to him. "Don't worry, sweety," she hissed in his ear, her greedy hands kneading, grasping, clutching his member between them-but still, release was denied. "You'll have it. But not until I have what I want." Another bruising kiss was forced upon Tyler, who was beginning to panic again. He wanted to reciprocate as strongly now as he'd wanted to escape before, but he found his motor skills as denied as his ability to orgasm. It was like this girl was in complete control and he was just along for the ride. Tyler had often heard that passion was indescribable from violence, and the situation he found himself seemed equal parts both. Manicured nails plunged into his back as he found her cold, demanding hands traveling not just over his penis, but every inch of body they could find. Her lips would not release his, even as he found his lungs screaming for air. He scarcely realized when he found himself on the ground, the cold cement of the broom closet chilling him, but hardly stealing his desire. As frightened as he was-and he was frightened, more now than ever before in his life for some reason-he found that his desire, his passion, only grew more and more. He craved her, needed her. It was then, when his desire to flee had all but left him, replaced only with a burning need for the creature that had instilled this deep, almost painful sexuality in him, that he found his limbs responsive to his demands. His well-toned arms clutched at her, returning the fevered passion that she had been focusing on him for what seemed like an eternity now and an eternity of eternities before that. He suddenly felt the woman shift on him and felt her lower her head to his engorged cock. For a fleeting moment, the idea of pleasure, of release, was the only thing on his mind-but something else spoke then, a more primal, base voice deep in his being demanded something more. He held her firmly then, causing her to stop and look up to him with those red eyes (had she always had red eyes?), a look of impatience, neediness, perhaps even a bit of irritation in those bloody orbs. "Not like that," he said, no, growled demandingly through his teeth, "I want to be inside you." Her look of irritation and impatience melted away to one of glee, a look very much like the cat who'd just eaten the canary. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that, baby," she purred into his ear as, without hesitation or pretense, she engorged herself on his thick, pulsing rod. The reaction was instantaneous-electric. It was as if her vagina was sucking in his member with a life of its own, and the monumental will that had kept him from orgasming (if it had been will at all) fled him. No sooner had he plunged deep into her nethers than did he erupt, filling her further with his seed. But it didn't stop there. He gasped aloud as he kept surging into her, more and more love juice than ever before flowed from his cock into her ever-eager pussy. Tyler had masturbated before, but it had always been a quick thing, over before he knew it and leaving him weary and uninterested in aught else. This was completely different, however. He couldn't stop cumming?and he didn't want to. Even as he continued to surge into her, she clawed at him, moaning and thrashing about in the throes of what seemed to be ultimate passion. Despite the strangeness, Tyler's mind was awash in passion as well, moreso than ever before, and he could scarcely concentrate on the ever- growing sensations before he blacked out. But only for a moment. A moment later, a moan emerged from his lips. The orgasm, if it was indeed an orgasm, had passed, leaving him drained-to put it lightly. In fact, he felt as if all he wanted to do was to slip into the unconsciousness that was so near now. But something snapped him to. Something strange. "Oh, God, it feels good to have a cock again." It was Melissa, and yet, it wasn't. Her voice was still undeniably hers, but it was throatier, rougher. He felt a strange sensation of something limp and meaty slapping his stomach roughly and squinted weakly and peered down to her, but his eyes never made it to her. His gaze was halted by the one thing he never expected to see. A cock. And not his. This cock was quite obviously and prominently attached, along with a heavy sack of balls, to Melissa's crotch. And it wasn't just any cock, either. It was large. Very large. "What the--?" Tyler stammered weakly, feeling drunk on the orgasm and sleepy-but more awakened from the strange sight before him. Melissa hadn't had that when she wriggled out of that delightfully tight pair of pants. Suddenly, she leaned forward and planted another bruising kiss on Tyler's lips?but this kiss was far from passionate, far from tender. It was commanding, it was rough. It was unpleasant. Tyler struggled, feeling weakened, but knowing something wasn't right- hell, it felt like everything was wrong. "Thanks babe," she hissed, almost hatefully in his ear. There was nothing silky about her voice now. The rough quality it had before made it sound vengeful, dangerous. "I hope it was as good for you as it was for me-but I doubt it." "What did you do?" Tyler moaned haltingly, barely able to form his mind into coherent sentences. "Why do you have a-" "A cock? Why baby, it's mine," she responded, sitting up on his stomach painfully, letting her new appendage, which was growing steadily harder from the attention, display prominently in his vision. "But I guess it might be a bit more accurate to say I stole it from you." Tyler's confusion must have been a comical site, for the spiteful woman let out a haunting, wicked laugh. "Don't believe me? Let me prove it to you." Melissa swiveled in her spot and reached behind her towards Tyler's crotch. Whatever energy the spent boy didn't have suddenly returned to him then as he felt the most violating, bizarre sensation ever. A pair of fingers, Melissa's fingers, plunged into him somehow. Tyler lurched away and, to his surprise, Melissa allowed him to stand. He wished she hadn't. Peering down past his chest, he saw an empty crotch, patched with only his typical brown pubic hair. Pubic hair glistening with their mingled sex. Pubic hair hiding a damp slit, pulsing slightly and moistened from its unwanted intruder. "Holy shit, I've got a-a-" "A pussy?" Melissa cooed, her voice soft and honey-like again-for a moment, "I guess you stole that from me, baby," she added with a twisted grin. "But how?!" Tyler cried, all sense of conspiracy, of remaining quiet in the broom closet they'd just had sex in, fleeing him. "I told you," she crooned, draping herself on him, though he couldn't find the strength in him to move?either that or she was doing something to him, whatever she'd done before they'd made love. Whatever it was that kept him there when all he wanted to do was flee. "I stole it from you. You asked what I wanted from you and I got it. Your manhood. And thanks to you, babe, I'll be hanging low for a good, long while." Tyler dropped to the ground, a look of dumb shock on his face as the cool air of the cement broom closet brushed up against the very sensitive slit he'd been "given." "As much as I'd like to stay for another go," she teased, kneeling down to force another kiss on him, "I got places to go. Things to see. People to do. But I really am grateful for the gift, sweety. "I'll thank you by leaving you your cherry. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause it never does." Tyler slumped forward and the girl's haunting laughter was the last thing that he heard before he passed out from a combination of weariness and horror. Tyler awoke to the sound of a door creaking. For a fleeting moment, he thought it was his bedroom door, that he was waking up in his own bed, in his own room. The strange feeling in his crotch, however, the pulsating sensation of a pussy that still craved?well, he didn't want to even think about what it craved?reminded him of where he was?where he was and what had happened. He was thinking quick enough, at least, to cover his crotch with the first thing his hand found in the dark. He was mortified to realize he was covering it with Melissa's panties, the only piece of clothing she left remotely near him. He was fairly certain she did it on purpose. "What the hell?!" Snapped an ornery voice. "Damn kids! What the hell you been doin' in here?!" Tyler squinted at the figure, outlined by the light of the outside hallway, his frantic mind forcing him to clumsily yank on the panties. He'd rather hide the fact that he had a pussy than worry about looking like a cross-dresser. Who knew what they would think if they saw his feminine sex? "I?I fell asleep," Tyler stammered lamely, realizing he was speaking to an older gentleman, probably the night janitor for the school. "I gotta get home." He didn't wait to hear what the janitor said in response, and quickly dashed to the only pile of clothes he saw?female clothes. Melissa must have taken his, he thought grimly. Snatching them up and trying not to think too much about it, he forced his way out past the bewildered and furious old man, who spouted a stream of irate rhetoric after him as he plunged through the darkened school in nothing but a pair of women's panties. The brisk evening air served to wake him further from his stupor and clear his mind as he raced from the school and found a convenient place to hide, concealed by some poorly-manicured bushes. He was glad to hear, however, that the janitor did not seem to be following him. For a moment, he thought everything that had happened had been a fevered dream, but he reminded himself quickly that it hadn't by tentatively reaching the feminine garments with shaking hands and brushing up against his altered anatomy. "What the fuck am I going to do now?" He groaned, slumping against the wall of the school and squinting in the dark at the bundle of feminine articles in his hand. The rough bricks of the school stung his bare back and the night air chilled him to the bone, surprising him. The cool autumn air had never bothered him so much before, but now he felt his body clattering mercilessly, as if it was the middle of winter. His feet too screamed in protest as he stood on the rough sidewalk, and he realized that his skin, in general, felt more tender, more sensitive, no doubt from his surreal sexual experience. With a mighty sigh, he decided any clothes would be better than just running around in a woman's underthings, and unfurled Melissa's jeans. He began to wriggle them on, and was shocked to realize he could actually get his legs into them when he was certain they would have been far too tight. In truth, they were tight, painfully so, but he could at least wear them over the flowery-pink panties, though the clearly- feminine pants were only a small improvement. Melissa's top seemed to be somewhat more troublesome, and he was forced to leave the leather vest-like garment untied, hanging open over his chest. Comfortable to at least be clothed, though the garments were certainly of a more feminine nature than he would have preferred, he began his lengthy trek home, cursing himself for not driving to school. "It'll be good for you," he grumbled to himself. "Walk in to school. Get some exercise. Yeah, great." The walk was painful in more ways than one. In the dark, his mind had no choice but to recount the sexuality, the raw, animalistic passion that had been exhibited with the girl who stole his manhood, and the more he thought of it, unbidden, arousing thoughts, the more his foreign new sex pulsated with pleasure. Moreso, however, even that arousal couldn't distract from the chafing grip of Melissa's pants which, though he was able to wear them, were far from comfortable. His bare chest tingled, numb from the icy chill of what would have been, only a few hours ago, a comfortable night and, worse yet, his feet cried out every time he stepped on anything but soft, cool grass. So it was that he was forced to cut through yards and lawns in his own patented short-cut that he'd invented many years hence, only now, he prayed that he would not be seen. He was not so lucky. "Tyler?" Called a voice, a voice that caused him to freeze in his tracks, though he wanted nothing more than to flee. "Tyler, what're you doing? Why weren't you on the bus?" Tyler stammered over his response as he heard the speaker, Hunter, approach from behind him. He'd almost forgotten that he had to cut through Hunter's yard to get home. His sensibilities cried to him, telling him to flee?but at the same time, he wondered where he was even running to. His father, certainly, would not be understanding about him coming in so late, and even worse, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he would understand, let alone condone, a son with a female sex. But would Hunter? "Um, I stayed after school," Tyler stammered, attempting to stay in the shadows, seeming to hide from the automatic lights that had no doubt alerted Hunter to his intrusion. "Until ten o' clock?" he replied incredulously. "I doubt that." As he approached closer, Hunter halted with a confused look on his face, "Are you wearing women's clothes?" Tyler fumbled with his words for a moment, torn between making up an excuse for the uncomfortable situation and his better sensibilities of not wanting to lie to a friend, and certainly not one who he'd known all his life. But the shame of it tied up his tongue even more. Worse yet, he felt the stress of the day weighing on him. Forced to sneak around, wearing someone else's clothes (someone who he'd just had sex with, no less), having his entire person, his being, his very sex called into question. He began to cry. Tyler had never cried. Not since he was a little child and crying was the only method in which he had to communicate, but given the circumstances of the evening, it just seemed so appropriate. He couldn't help himself. At first, it was a gentle trickle of saline down his cheeks, but after mere moments, he was gasping for air, all-out sobbing. Needless to say, Hunter was at a loss. "What's wrong, Tyler?" He asked, fumbling for words himself. In typical male "good-buddy" fashion, he hardly knew what to do with his friend like this, but to his credit, he approached hesitantly and put an arm on Tyler's shoulder, attempting to usher him inside. "Come on, let's get you out of that shit. Was this some sort of a prank? Someone swipe your clothes or something?" Even through his uncharacteristic tears, Tyler could hear the strain in Hunter's voice. He didn't want to help him, but at the same time, he felt obliged to do so. It was comforting and distressing all at once, and what was worse, the confusion of it all only made him sob more. "M-Melissa," he stammered in response, "she, we-we made love and she-" "No way!" Hunter said, sudden shock in his voice, "man, I've been trying to get a piece of that for-hey, wait, why're you crying again? Dude, you should be celebrating. I think my mom and dad have some booze in the fridge that I could swipe and-" "You don't get it!" Tyler snapped, his tears redoubling at his friend's words. "She-she took?something?from me?" "Yeah, your clothes," Hunter said with some humor, adding, "and your dignity, apparently. Dude, don't be such a pussy." Hunter could have no idea that what he said would only make things worse, but it did, and Tyler's tears redoubled, so much so that he was forced to drape himself on Hunter, sobbing into his friend's shoulder. Uncomfortable, Hunter pushed his friend away, not roughly, but enough to hold him at arm's-length. "What the hell is going on?" He asked, all joking gone from his voice, replaced with discomfort and concern. "This isn't like you at all." Tyler hesitated for a moment, gnawing on his lip, before whispering, "Your room," in hushed tones. "I'll meet you in your room. I'll use the trellis, like last summer." "Yeah, when your dad caught us drinking and refused to let you see me," Hunter snirked, nodding. "Alright, I'll see you up there." "And Hunt?" "Yeah?" Hunter responded, stopping at the patio door he'd exited his house from. "Pick me out some clothes, please." If walking was difficult in his new outfit, climbing was even more impossible. Not only did the pants leave him no mobility, but his hands were crying out in agony only halfway up the two-story building. His feet, already tender from walking, left trails of blood and dead skin on the thorny trellis?but he was determined. Tyler decided he needed to tell someone, and the only person he could trust, he felt, was his best friend. He was beyond pleased to see the window waiting open for him. The idea of hanging on the trellis and waiting for Hunter to let him in did not appeal to him one iota. "Sorry about the wait," Hunter called down, helping Tyler up with waiting hands. "My parents wanted to know what was going on outside. I just told 'em that the neighbor's dog got loose again." Tyler was ashamed when he saw his friend's look of surprise at feeling Hunter's torn up hands. "Dude, your hands are all cut up," he said after he'd pulled Tyler in, forced to do so mostly on his own, as Tyler seemed to have no strength left. "What've you been doing, juggling knives?" "You know I can't juggle," Tyler breathed, flopping down on his friend's carpet and trying to catch his breath, surprised at how utterly tired he was. He did that climbs twice a day for three months last year, and it hardly ever even winded him, and it had never cut up his calloused hands as much as it had this time. Given the circumstances, however, he didn't give the problem too much thought. "I know," Hunter offered, handing his prone friend a can of beer. Tyler was somewhat glad to see half a dozen more waiting on Hunter's desk. He was fairly certain he'd at least need a buzz to get this particular problem out of his system. "And it shows. What the hell is going on, Tyler? We were going to meet at the mall tonight, and then you don't even show up on the bus? And then you show up in that new girl's clothes and tell me you fucked her, and you're crying about it? You never cry! Not even when we dropped your dad's TV on your foot." "It's?well, it's weird," Tyler began, taking a long draw from the can of beer, pleasantly surprised by the buzz he was sporting already after only one can. No doubt his weariness and the fact that he hadn't eaten for well over six hours now helping that along. "She pulled me into the broom closet. You know, the one down by Mister Mulwilder's room? Then she tells me that she?picked me. That she chose me." "Dude, that's awesome," Hunter groaned, sounding more than a little jealous. It was no secret that Hunter had had his eyes on the new girl for some time. "Looks like you beat me to losing your cherry. And there's no better girl to loose it to. Cheers." Hunter's comment only brought new tears springing to Tyler's eyes, which surprised them both. All Tyler could think of were Melissa's last words: I'll thank you by leaving you your cherry. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause it never does. Hunter inspected his beer car with reverence, not daring to look up at his sobbing friend. "Dude, what's going on with you?" Hunter asked hesitantly. "Did she slip you some drugs or something?" Tyler shook his head, fumbling with the beer can in his hands. "You embarrassed yourself and came too early?" Again, Tyler mutely shook his head. "What then?!" Hunter snapped, clearly at wit's end. "Why the fuck're you acting so much like a?a woman?!" Tyler winced and, without a moment's hesitation, he began to undo his pants. He slowly stood, unable to even look at Hunter, who was watching him with unabashed shock. And then a mix of horror and?arousal when Tyler revealed his empty crotch. "What the fuck?!" Hunter practically screamed, causing Tyler to hush him quickly. The last thing he wanted was for Hunter's parents to burst in on them. "Dude, you have a pussy!" "I know," Tyler whimpered, tears springing to his eyes again. "She?she had a pretty big penis when she left. I don't know what the fuck she did, but she?she said she stole my dick!" Hunter just stared, wordlessly, at Tyler's new anatomy, completely shocked that the first vagina he'd seen first hand was on his best friend. His male friend. Tyler too said nothing, only took a deep, long drink from his can, emptying the rest of it in one gulp. "What's it feel like?" Tyler actually sputtered a bit at that, nearly spitting up a mouthful of beer on Hunter's floor. "Damnit, Hunter! It's a vagina! I don't want a vagina, I have a penis!" "Well, not anymore," Hunter muttered, looking back down to his can, though it seemed like a colossal effort on his part to pry his eyes away from Tyler's sex. "But what's it feel like?" Tyler sighed and sat down, slapping his legs together to hide his shameful anatomy, "It's horrible," he muttered softly. "It's all wet and sloppy and squishy and?and it's?" He hesitated and glanced up, seeing Hunter was staring at him. He growled softly. "Damnit, stop looking at me like that! I'm a man, Hunter! I don't want a pussy!" "Maybe it'll?you know?wear off," Hunter offered helpfully. "Maybe it's temporary." "Maybe," Tyler murmured. He'd not thought of that. He'd only wished Melissa had told him how she'd done it. "Even with a penis, I'll bet she was hot," Hunter added, almost humorously. For a moment, Tyler was overcome with rage at his friend's almost flippant attitude, but when he looked up to give him a tongue lashing and saw just how uncomfortable he looked, he let out a soft sigh and nodded a bit, forcing a smile. "She really was," he muttered with ill humor. It was the incessant wailing of an alarm clock that awoke Tyler, an alarm clock that felt like a million jackhammers pounding inside his skull. "Too much beer," he groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. It took him a minute to realize where he was, but why he was in Hunter's house was beyond him. He barely remembered anything from the night before after he'd shown Hunter his new anatomy, and assumed (rightly so) that he must have drank too much. "Dude, you are such a lightweight." He cracked his eyes open and saw Hunter standing in the doorway to his room, dressed in his boxer shorts with a towel draped around his neck. Perhaps it was because he was still groggy, and everything that'd happened over the last couple of hours, but he'd never noticed how well- toned Hunter had become in the last few years. His strict exercise regiment was really paying off. "A couple of beers and you're out like a light," he teased with an easy smile. "You're lucky I was awake enough to call your dad and tell him you stayed the night." "What day is it?" Tyler groaned. "Saturday," Hunter replied, walking to his dresser and pulling out some clothes for not only himself but Tyler as well. "Your dad didn't sound too pleased, but when I told him you were already asleep, he let it go. My parents left for work already, so I didn't have to explain it to them, thank God." Tyler rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a moment before speaking again. "It wasn't a dream, was it?" He asked hesitantly, as if denying it would make it all not true. He knew before Hunter even spoke that it was all true, however. He could feel it in his crotch, pulsing slightly as he watched his bare-chested friend dig through his dresser for clothes. In fact, he felt strange all over this morning. "No," Hunter said with a sigh. "But hey, having a pussy for a couple days isn't so bad. I'm sure it'll come back." Tyler gritted his teeth, fighting back tears at the futility of the situation he found himself in, as well as his friend's flippancy. Hunter didn't speak for long moments. "My dad's cure for hang-overs is a nice, cold shower," he finally offered, tugging on a sport's jersey of some sort. "Go ahead and shower if you want." Tyler bobbed his head weakly. He felt drained. Weak all over, and it was a colossal effort to even rise to all fours before he could finally propel himself to his feet. By that time, Hunter had left him to his own devices, no doubt to find some food for breakfast. Tyler was glad he had. At some time, in their drunken stupor the night prior, Tyler had been dressed in one of Hunter's pairs of sweatpants. He was glad he was, since it hid his strange new sex, however, upon rising, he realized that he'd been laying in what looked very much like a nest of some sort. A nest of his own hair. In a panic, Tyler patted his body, realizing that it had been his own hair. All of his body hair, every last bit (besides the hair on his head and his eyebrows), was in a clump on the ground where he'd slept. It all fell out through the night. His body was completely hairless. Worse yet, when he rose, he felt Hunter's pants slipped slightly. While not strange, since Hunter had always been bigger than Tyler, it was all Tyler could do to hike them up and hold them in place. Judging by the feeling of the material on his legs, he had a feeling that his bottom half was as hairless as the top. "Everything ok up there?" Hunter called. "Yes," Tyler snapped, too quickly. He winced a bit at how shrill, even irritating his voice sounded, and he was mortified when he heard it crack, as if he was going through puberty again. Was that just the weariness and booze too? Panicked all over again, and that panic helping him work through the hangover he'd been feeling, Tyler rushed down the hall towards the bathroom, stumbling no less than twice on Hunter's too-baggy sweatpants. When he arrived in the bathroom, he was shocked at the image looking back at him. He recognized himself in the mirror, thank God, but he was mortified to realize that the goatee he'd been growing for the past three months had been among the hair left on his friend's carpet. Worse yet, the hair on his head, which he'd never kept short by any means, had nonetheless snaked its way down to just above his shoulders, considerably longer than he'd ever had it. While he hadn't noticed at first, upon further securitization he found that his body had diminished slightly, though it was hardly noticeable. Tyler had always been well-toned, despite his generally unathletic lifestyle as of late, but now he appeared to be androgynous. His muscles were ill-defined and his skin no longer showed the inklings of a tan that it always had before. Just like with his voice, he appeared as if he was going through puberty again, only there was no mistaking his age. Tyler decided he looked more like one of the pasty-skinned, shut-in kids that tinkered with their computers after school and snickered after making fun of someone in some made-up sci-fi language. Tyler cautiously snaked his hand into his friend's sweatpants and was mortified that, not only were his legs also hairless, but his crotch, where this whole problem had begun, was as well. His new sex was no longer nestled in a thick carpet of curly pubic hair. It was now quite prominent, from the feel of it. "There a problem with the water?" Tyler jumped and turned on his friend, who'd entered the bathroom with a pile of towels on the crook of his arm. A tense moment of silence followed. Tyler watched with wide, shocked eyes as Hunter, with an unreadable expression on his face, surveyed his friend?or the person who was once his friend, for where Tyler desperately clung to the similarities, Hunter saw only differences. "Dude," Hunter breathed, dropping the towels in surprise, "what the fuck is going on?" Tyler fell back a step, shaking from head to toe as he stammered over an explanation that would not escape past his tongue, which seemed to be made of some scientifically impossible combination of cotton and iron. That was all well and good anyways, since he really had no explanation anyways. "You look like?like a woman." That comment suddenly caused it to dawn on Tyler. What if Melissa hadn't just stolen his penis? What if she'd stolen his sex? Suddenly, her comment resounded in his fear-addled brain. When he'd asked her what she wanted from him?she'd said his manhood. "You don't just have a pussy, do you?" Hunter asked after a moment of shocked silence. "You're turning into a chic-a girl, aren't you?" Tyler stammered. He couldn't answer, because he didn't know for sure?but the truth seemed fairly obvious, even to him, despite his desire to deny it. Hunter could do nothing but stare. At first it was a novelty, his best friend having a vagina. Maybe he could let him take pictures of it, maybe even feel it after they'd both had too much to drink, but this?suddenly it was very real. And very uncomfortable. Slowly, without a word, Hunter backed out of the bathroom, closing the door without even the sound of a click, leaving Tyler stammering to find the words all alone. "Hunter, wait!" He cried suddenly, lunging for the door. In his rush, he stumbled on his sweatpants, but left them in a heap of cloth and hair from his legs and crotch on the floor of the bathroom. Tyler pulled the door open and practically leapt through it, colliding with his friend, who hadn't moved away from the portal. The two fell in a heap on the floor, and both lay there in silence for a time, Tyler's body screaming from the fall, his breath coming ragged and short in his lungs. He was positive he could hear the timbre of his breathing rise with each gasping, ragged breath. When he finally pushed himself off of his friend, he had to push the hair from his face to look him in the eyes, and even then, he could scarcely hear through the tears. "I'm still me!" He finally cried, horrified that he was beginning to sob once again, but unable to stop it. "I'm still Tyler! Please don't leave me, I can't stand to be alone right now!" Shocked, Hunter stiffened as his once very-male friend, now androgynous, perhaps even slightly feminine, wrapped his arms around him, clinging to him like a life-preserver in a shark-infested ocean-futile and yet necessary all at once. Tyler seemed to either not notice or not care that he was completely nude. The fact was not lost on Hunter, who pushed him off. Unlike the previous night, there was force in that push, and a bit of desperation. "This is just too weird!" Hunter cried, sounding in a panic himself. Unlike the previous night, where he couldn't take his eyes off of his friend's new sex, he dare not look at Tyler now. "Dude, you're becoming a woman! How the hell am I supposed to deal with that?" "You?!" Tyler screeched, not even coherent enough to realize how feminine it sounded. "You're not the one with a pussy, Hunter! I'm the one whose gotta deal with this, I just don't do want to do it alone!" Tyler's words degenerated into incoherent sobs as he curled up into himself, quaking with tears and fear from head to toe. Hunter, to his credit, did not run away. He watched with a mix of pity and disgust at his former friend who already seemed too feminine, and yet too much like his former self, for the young boy to be entirely comfortable. "M-Maybe you should just?take a shower and try and calm down," Hunter offered lamely. No sooner had he spoken than did Tyler cry out again, this time in anger and frustration, a cry that resounded through Hunter's entire home and, drawing himself up, he hauled out and slapped him across the cheek. Without another word, he stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door with such force that a pair of family portraits plummeted from their precarious perches on the hallway wall. Hunter was left in relative silence in the hallway, though he could hear the faintest echoes of his former best-friend's tears, staring at the door with shock and dismay. He bit back a scathing remark about women before slinking off down the hallway, nursing a large red welt on his cheek. "You ok in there?" There was no response. Hunter sighed. He'd heard the water running for almost an hour before he dared even check in on Tyler. For a time, he had nursed his wounded ego (and cheek, for the slap really stung), but he'd decided to at least force himself to try and understand Tyler's plight. His friend had inexplicably lost his cock and balls to a hotty he'd slept with (one that Hunter had wanted to sleep with, he realized with a sickening drop in his stomach) and might be turning into a girl. That was weird, but Hunter did have to admit, he was selfish in thinking that he was more affected by it than Tyler. "I-I'm coming in, Ty," he offered softly, placing his hand hesitantly on the doorknob. He strained his wrist for a moment, but he couldn't make himself open the door. Finally, he placed his hand over his eyes and pushed the door open, entering blindly. "I'm not looking, Ty. Are you in here? Are you ok?" He heard a shuffling amidst the stream of water and finally sighed, peeking out from under his hands. He spied his friend, sitting in the bath tub with the streams of water pouring over him. He looked positively pathetic, like a drowned rat. Hunter was fairly certain Tyler's hair had actually grown slightly since he'd seen him only an hour hence. "Listen, I'm sorry," Hunter offered, sitting on the toilet and trying not to look at his friend, though he had to admit, he was somewhat curious in a morbid sort of way to see if anything had changed. "You're right, I was being selfish. This has got to be weird for you. I should have been more supportive, but I wasn't. I was scared and I panicked. It's just weird to see you like this." "It's weird to be like this," Tyler replied in a weak, trembling voice. For a fleeting moment, Hunter had to resist the urge to look around and see who'd spoken. The voice he'd heard was undeniably feminine, though it sounded remarkably like Tyler's voice. "I keep thinking it'll be ok, and that I'll wake up and I'll?I'll have a penis again, but I know I won't. I can feel myself changing. All over. I feel?tingly. Sick." Hunter was surprised to see him blush, "I-I threw up in your toilet. Sorry." Hunter smirked weakly, "That's fine. It's probably just the booze." "I doubt it," Tyler replied softly. "I feel my guts swishing around. Like butterflies in your stomach, you know? Only I know it's not. Fuck, Hunter. I keep thinking I might have?have a?you know." Hunter nodded a bit. He understood. And he felt a little like throwing up himself. "I'm sorry I freaked out," Tyler offered. "I'm sorry I even told you. I should have just gone home." "You'll be ok," Hunter offered, though even he winced at how lame the promise was. He was also more than a bit ashamed to realize that he wished Tyler had just gone home as well. "We'll figure something out. And who knows? Maybe we're freaking out over nothing. Maybe it's like?some weird STD and it'll wear off. It could still be temporary." Tyler didn't have the strength to respond. He only slowly looked up when Hunter reached into the shower to turn off the faucet and stem the flow of the ice cold water. "You'll catch pneumonia," Hunter muttered. "Idiot." Tyler laughed softly, a laugh that was choked off when he heard it sounded a lot like a giggle one would hear from a young girl. Hunter too seemed to clam up at that, and the two lapsed into silence once more, neither able to bear looking at the other. "I had an idea," Hunter finally offered, "while I was making breakfast. Maybe we should try to find Melissa." Tyler blinked and looked up again. "If she took your dick," That still sounded strange to even consider, "maybe she can give it back. If nothing else, maybe she'll explain what the hell happened." Tyler furrowed his brow and considered his knees, which he'd pulled to his chest in an attempt to curl up into himself in the shower. For long moments, he remained silent until, finally, he nodded. "I think it's the only logical option," he said, coughing a bit to try and correct his higher-pitched voice, but to no avail. It had already leapt up half an octave, and it still continued to crack occasionally, though not as much as before. "Maybe we can force her to give me back my?boy parts." "Penis," Hunter corrected warily. Tyler flushed from head to toe and nodded, "Yeah. My penis." Hunter regarded his friend for a moment before stepping away from the shower, "I'll go get you some clothes. You can't wear the crap she left you with." Tyler was relieved to hear Hunter say that. He was afraid he'd be stuck with Melissa's ill-fitting clothes all day. He certainly wasn't going to go home looking like he was, without any answers, though having seen himself in the mirror, he wasn't so sure any of his clothes would even fit anymore. "It's not working, Hunt," Tyler whined, throwing down the pants Hunter had given him. He'd already tried on a dozen pairs, the tightest, most uncomfortable pants the duo could find in Hunter's closet, but they were all too loose on Tyler's shapeless body. Hunter, a dedicated athlete with a body to show for it, was just too much larger than even male Tyler, who'd been smaller and more compact, speedier, but without the brute strength that Hunter was so well-known for in the sports arenas. The situation was beginning to get desperate?and very uncomfortable. Hunter could tell Tyler was near tears again, and he was losing patience, both with the situation and with his friend. Honest to God, did he have to start sobbing every time something went wrong? Worse yet, without something comfortable to wear, both boys felt extremely uncomfortable with Tyler's new sex exposed. They'd so rarely even been nude around one another as males-it just wasn't something boys did-and it was even weirder now that Tyler had female anatomy. With nothing else to wear, Tyler had been forced to wear Melissa's panties after they discovered none of Hunter's boxers would fit. This left most of Tyler's body exposed, and Hunter could already see telltale signs of femininity creeping in. He was still straight and unshapely as a board, but his hair was brushing down past his shoulders now. Tyler didn't seem to notice, but Hunter sure did. Worse yet, it was almost as if every time he looked away and back at his friend, his face was different, softer, rounder, almost chubbier but without the fat. The worst part was?he still saw his friend every time he looked at Tyler, but it was clear to Hunter, who watched it progress with his own eyes, what he was turning into. "I have an idea," Hunter muttered, tossing aside a pair of sweatpants he was going to try next, "but you're not going to like it." Tyler looked up to him with those damnable tears in his eyes again, "What is it?" "My sister left some clothes behind before she went to college last month and-" "No way!" Tyler snapped angrily. Hunter was somewhat pleased to hear that fire in his voice, rather than breaking down into tears. "I'm not wearing your sister's clothes! I'm still me, I'm not going to be seen in some fucking dress!" "Come on," Hunter responded with a forced grin. "When was the last time you saw Lisa even wear a dress? She doesn't even have anything like that in her closet." Tyler regarded Hunter warily. He still had a rim of tears in his eyes, but they were unshed, and he looked more angry than sad. "Listen, I'm sure she left a couple pairs of jeans and some t-shirts," Hunter explained. "Then you can wear one of my sweatshirts on top of it. It'll be big, but you'll look like you're dressed kinda normal if anyone sees us. I'm sure she even has a couple pairs of underwear that you could wear instead of that thing." Tyler glanced down and regarded the pink thing he had on, concealing his new sex, before sighing. The idea of wearing something that fit comfortably and wasn't so conspicuous appealed to him, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to start dressing in women's clothing, and certainly not Lisa's. Like Hunter, Lisa had been quite an athlete in her prep days, and Tyler had harbored something of a crush for her when he and Hunter were younger. He'd even spied on her showering a couple times. Thank God he'd never been caught. And now he'd be wearing her clothes. The thought sickened him, but on top of it all, wearing women's clothes at all seemed like it was like him accepting what was happening to him, and he wasn't ready to accept it. "I'll spring for lunch at the mall," Hunter offered. "Come on, at the very least you can't stay here all day buck naked. It's weird enough-" Tyler looked up sharply and Hunter quickly held up his hands defensively, offering a quick apology. "Fine," Tyler snapped, storming out of Hunter's room toward where he knew Hunter's sister's room was. Hunter watched him go with a sigh, shaking his head. Tyler was usually so laid back and calm. He just seemed so moody now, though he could hardly blame him. "Listen, Ty," Hunter offered, rushing to catch up to him. "I don't know what I'd do if I were in your shoes. I'd probably be all freaking out and shit, too, so it's ok if you want to-" "Want to what?" Tyler snapped angrily, jarring some tears loose. "Cry? Fuck you, Hunter. You've been thinking I'm a pussy all day. I see it when you look at me. So just drop it, ok?" Hunter sighed. It was true, he had been thinking that all day, but he'd been more worried about the fact that he was acting like a woman than irritated by the fact that he was crying. What did that mean? It seemed like just another piece of evidence supporting the hypothesis that he was, in fact, turning into a woman. Worse yet, his altered moods seemed to imply that more than just his body would change. Hunter quickly shook his head and dismissed the thought. It was probably just stress, and there was no indication that Tyler was turning into a woman?though he had to remind himself that by just having a vagina, he technically was a woman already. Hunter tried to stop thinking about the problem while he picked through his sister's closet for the least feminine pair of jeans he could find. He'd never been in her closet before, and the circumstances sure didn't make the first time any more comfortable. Meanwhile, he set Tyler lose on her underwear drawer, which had very slim pickings left after Lisa had moved off to college. "Damnit, Hunter," Tyler whined. Just a week ago, Tyl