One Week Only (Third In The 'One Night Only' Series) free porn video

One Week Only Hi guys, good to see you again. Wow, third instalment already - how are you enjoying the ride? I want to say thanks again for all the comment's you've been posting, you have no idea how much they mean and I DO mean that. 'One Night Only' was very nearly a one-off until all the reviews, requests and advice came in. I've tried to fulfil some of the requests on here by making the story longer than normal, as well as adding a little more sex. In spite of this, however, I'm still looking to keep Mike and Jay true to their characters whilst throwing some new curve balls at them. How long this series survives will depend on feedback - so please do keep posting! In the meantime, I really hope you enjoy this third instalment. For those of you that are new to this plot, please first read 'One Night Only' and then 'One Day Only', or you may very well wind up confused. Okay, here we go: "Well, what do you say?" There's only one answer I can give. "No, absolutely not; I don't care what you say, I absolutely refuse." My younger brother, Drew, sits back in the couch, a mischievous smile plastered across his face. He's sixteen, but thinks himself much older. "Don't make any rash decisions," he says. "Let's review the facts first." I didn't need to review the facts; I knew full well what the situation was. It had all started about seven months ago when my friend Jay and I agreed to undertake a secret project. The premise was simple: we put our cash together to purchase a 'One Night Only' box to make us more comfortable around women. Put simply, a 'One Night Only' box was a breakthrough in modern technology that aimed to make a man as feminine as possible for a full-on female experience. Jay and I had flipped a coin to decide who would be the woman. I lost, and that night I became 'Michelle' for one night only. Three months down the line, and Jay had somehow talked me into undergoing a second change. I was to become 'Anna', a Swedish girl on vacation with her boyfriend. This would be my one and only venture into being a woman in public. The problem is; both of those experiences were confined to more than just memory. We made two portfolios, Jay and I, going into some depth about what we did; even including photos. And now here sits Drew, having found my portfolio and decidedly hid it. "I still don't get why you'd want me to do something as weird as that," I repeat, "why on earth do you want me to become mom?" "Like I said, my teacher wants to speak to my parents about my behaviour." "So? Just take your medicine and get it over with." "That's just it; I'm on a warning as it is and, if mom does find out, I'm not gonna get to go away on summer vacation." "Poor you..." I say, unsympathetically. "Anyway, you're not 'becoming mom' - you just need to look like her. She only looks like an older version of sis and I know you can pull off THAT look." "Just...tell me where you put the portfolio." "No way, that's my leverage. Come on, man; mom's away for a week so what better time?" "How about never?" "Cute. Come on, I swear I'll give you back the portfolio if you do this one thing for me." "'One thing?' you want me to impersonate a forty-five year old woman." "Could be worse...could be fifty-five." When Jay opens the door to me, his face is a mixture of both shock and delight. "Whoa...dude, it's been a long time." "Yeah," I reply, awkwardly, "can I come inside?" "Sure, sure." Jay's place still hasn't changed a bit. Not a single item of furniture. Then again, I suppose four months isn't the longest span of time in the world. I perch myself on the end of the couch. "Listen...I know we didn't leave things in the best of shape during our last encounter..." "Forget it," he says, in his usual carefree manner. "You were going through some stuff. I understand." "Still...I feel like I let you down. The moment we got back from that vacation I shut you off completely and...I'm sorry." In spite of my sudden need of Jay, my apology was sincere - I'd been meaning to do this for quite some time. "Look, there are some people who hide from who they are their entire lives. If you get so much as a step closer this next year, it'll be a good thing." "Jay...I'm not a woman." "Ah, back to denial, eh? That's okay, we can work around that." "You're not listening." "It's you that's not listening, dude - to yourself." I sigh heavily. This is a conversation for another time. "I'm not gonna lie about this...I need your help." He sits, listening intently as I tell my tale, his face going through a flurry of expressions as he does. "Wow...now that's a story," he says, nodding. "So you see my predicament." "Yeah, but...you kept the portfolio." "W-what's your point?" I blush. "You must have some wish to be a woman again if you kept all that data." "I just...didn't get around to getting rid of it, okay?" "Sure, sure. I guess it's just a good thing we never kept any of those nude photos of you." "Anyway, I just need you to confirm to Drew that what he's asking is impossible." "Maybe not," he says, stroking his chin. "You can't actually BECOME your mom - the idea is gross anyway - all you need to do is look like someone who could BE your mom - see?" "What are you getting at?" "Well, when you became Michelle you never intended to end up looking like your sister, but you did anyway because she's more or less the female version of you. So, if we make you older..." "Does that kind of box even exist?" "There's a MILF package that exists..." "Seriously? I'm not sure...the idea of becoming a mature woman isn't exactly a glamorous one." "You really think Drew will take no for an answer? It's worth a shot at least. Anyway, there are plenty of attractive women at that age or older." "Like?" "Sandra Bullock?" "Okay, look; we'll check it out but I don't have the funds to make the purchase on my own. I know it's a lot to ask, but-" "-Of course I'll chip in. Under the condition that I be the one to change you..." "Jay, there's no way you-" "-Please? Come on, it's always been us as a team. You need help with your make-up and stuff anyway. Look, I'll even pay the extra postage to make sure we get it on time." "Okay, fine. I guess you do have your uses..." It takes only a day to arrive. In spite of its oddness, I have to say the 'One Night' company is efficient if nothing else. With Drew out visiting a friend, Jay and I get to work in mom's room. We begin with standard protocol, with me shaving my body clean of body hair (as well as applying hair removal cream in certain places...). "Okay, have you taken your pill?" asks Jay, as I enter in my gown. "Yeah, it should be taking effect soon," I nod. "Lemmie see," he says, reaching for the hem of my robe. "No!" "What? I got to watch last time." "That was different. We were...experimenting together." "Trying out a relationship as man and woman, you mean?" "N-no, not like that." "Chill, I'm teasing you," smirks Jay. "But you'll have to be naked when I apply the cream, right?" "I know, and I trust you. I just...don't want you to see it shrink." "Aww, getting embarrassed? That's okay, it must be pretty embarrassing me watching your dick get tiny whilst mine stays big, thick and hard." "Whatever." "Has it shrunk yet?" I peer into my robe. "Yeah...it has." "Okay, time to get naked, babe." "Don't call me that, please - especially before I've changed." I drop my robe to the floor. "Okay, here's your candy for being a good girl," he says. I'd object to his tone, but am having to catch the red drop in my mouth as he expels it from the wrapper. From that point, all I can do is suck. "I know you like a good suck," he smirks, and squirts the usual cream into the palm of his hand. It's only as he starts to apply the cream to my buttocks and thighs once again, that I get a real sense of having to go through this once more. Strangely though, he seems to be taking quite a bit longer than usual - just how much cream is he using? He comes back round to my front, smiling at the confused frown on my face that's just begging to ask the question. "One moment," he says, wiping his hands on a towel, "we're not done yet." Reaching in to the box concealed on the other side of the bed (as always, he won't let me see it), he produces a second tub. Instead of being white with a pink lid, however, this one is white with a yellow lid. Unscrewing the lid, he comes my way, "Okay, keep still, darling," he hums. He applies this new cream to the lower part of my legs, before smothering my cheeks, arms, back, and stomach in the same manner. The candy in my mouth has dissolved just in time for me to ask the question, "What's all this stuff for?" The candy has taken effect, but in a different manner to the two previous times - my voice is high, yes, but also with a certain husky tint that one would associate with a maturing woman. "Wow, that voice is your sexiest YET!" beams Jay. "Answer the question!" I demand, "Why is this time so different to those other two times?" "You're about to find out," he says with a point. The tingling heralds the beginning. Like before and the time before that, my buttocks and thighs begin to swell. Getting used to this sudden shift in proportion, I lean onto the chair of mom's dresser, waiting for the process to finish. It doesn't seem to want to finish though, and, with a gasp, I feel my butt getting larger...and larger still! "J-Jay?!" "Don't panic, it's not as dramatic as it probably feels." "What would YOU know about how it feels?!" My thighs swell further than before as well, expanding more and more. By the time everything has finished, I realise there's no way I'd squeeze into the panties I wore as Michelle. "Now THAT'S an ass!" declares Jay, approvingly. "What the hell is -ohhh!" It's then I feel the next phase of the change. Every part of my body touched by the second cream; begins to soften and swell. Any male muscle on my thin frame is quickly made invisible by the expanding fake fat. Arms and legs apart, I wait for the horrendous process to finish. By the time it's done, I feel like a baby hippo. "What have you DONE?! I'm fat!" I whine. "Don't be stupid - you're curvy!" Waddling over to the mirror, I examine myself. It's true, I'm not exactly as fat as I feel, but my curves are, shall we say, 'dramatically feminine'? "Why've you done this?" I whisper, still in shock. "It's mandatory. You have to remember, the woman you're pretending to be - accurately or not - has given birth to three children. That takes its toll on your body, girlfriend." He wasn't wrong. I try bouncing on my toes, feeling the full weight of my body the process. My belly bounces up and down with the momentum, my flabby arms rippling in places I, only moments ago; had firm muscles instead. It wasn't that I was a wrinkly fat (that would be too gross), because my body is, on the whole, quite smooth. Still, I feel very uncomfortable right now. "Are you absolutely sure this is necessary, Jay?" "Look, I ordered a custom pack, okay? I input the number of kids your mom's had, as well as your height, and this is what they sent. Even the wig is specially selected." "I understand," I sigh, "and I'm grateful for your efforts, I really am." "Okay," says Jay, "Three birds with one stone; "You put your headphones on, and I'll get to work on your makeup and hair. "Forget that idea," I protest. "Twice now you've had me listening to subliminal hypnosis CD's and not once have I found the consequences to my liking." I put my hands on my much rounder hips, very authority-like. "I promise - no accents or anything this time, okay? It's just the power of suggestion." "If that's all it is; then okay." "Great. Take a seat at the dresser and we'll get started." It's strange, being inside that tiny, dark world. The moment those headphones go on and you close your eyes, everything changes. Imagine your spirit floating up somewhere whilst your body remains on the normal plane - it's very much like that. I listen to the CD: the usual bleeps, bloops and whines, along with what I think is a very distant female voice ringing in my ears. I try to remember if this is anything like the last two CD's I listened to, but don't seem able to draw on any associated memories. Maybe that was deliberate. Planting the triggers then making you forget them so it all became a natural part of your brain. On the outside, I can feel Jay at work. He starts in weird fashion, touching the edges of my eyes and lips with some kind of jelly-like substance. Soon, however, normal practice resumes with lipstick (the magic make-your-lips-all-puffy kind), eye-shadow, mascara and blush. The wig follows soon, along with Jay's unlikely favourite; the nails. "Okay, you can open your eyes now," says Jay, with the audio having been gone awhile now. I open my eyes, looking into the mirror, and, for just the faintest moment, think mom has actually walked into the room. For five seconds I am completely mesmerized - until I realise exactly why I look so convincing. "I've got wrinkles!" I shriek, looking to my eyes and the edges of my puffier mouth. "Calm down," says Jay, putting a hand on my shoulder. "It's just a temporary effect created by a special jelly. They're not all that noticeable really." "I...I don't WANT wrinkles!" "Neither does any woman, but that's a product of being forty-five so tough - you're stuck with them. They're almost invisible with the makeup on anyway." "Easy for you to say..." "Come on; tell me what you think on the whole." "It's...very convincing. I could be my mom's sister or something." "Exactly; no-one who's only met your mom in passing will know any different." "The hair is good too...all tied up like that." "Why, thank you." "Just the breasts now, right?" "Yes - oh, apart from one thing..." "Yes?" Without warning, he sprays something into my eyes. "Ow! What the hell?" "Sorry, it's easier to do that if you don't see it coming." "What is it? It's just like water." "Does it sting?" "No." "Well then, don't worry about it. By the way, can you read this aloud for me?" He puts down a newspaper in front of me, pointing to an article. I look down at it. "I...I can't...read it. It's all blurry," I frown. "Must've reached the age where you need reading glasses then," he teases. "Jay, that's not funny. What did that spray do?" "Nothing permanent; here," he pushes some glasses into my hand, "These are specially designed to work with the effects of the spray. With them, you can read just fine." "Do you have any idea how unfair this is?" "What can I say? The 'One Night' company very thorough; there's nothing you can do from here - you need your glasses." "This is SO the last change I'm doing with you," I frown. "Come on, it's booby time!" Stood well apart as always, Jay and I prepare ourselves. I have the suction cups attached as ever, as well as the nozzles ready to fire cold milk into my nipples (apparently it helps that the milk is cold as it keeps your nipples erect thus easing the flow. How the heck do they come up with this stuff exactly?). "Ready, babe?" "Let's do it." Jay flicks the switch, the usual glee emanating from his face. The pumping starts, my nipples puffing immediately, along with the emergence of my areolas. "B-by the way," I shiver, "how d-do you know what size to go f-f-or?" "Oh, I just checked your mom's bra size." "Y-you did WHAT?" "Come on, think about it: breast size is often genetic so there's no better way of guessing what size breasts the mature female you has, than checking your female parent's." "Does it have to be so specific?" "Your size in general is most likely to be near your mom's, so I only bought clothes that match her sizes. That includes underwear." "You attention to detail astonishes me," I sigh, rolling my eyes. I look down to see my breasts are now a firm C cup. Something's strange though...this doesn't feel right. "S-stop the machine," I stutter. "You always say that." "No, I mean it - this feels different somehow." "It will do, darling - it's a different kind of milk substitute." "Different how?" "It's denser." "Denser? What for?" And then I feel it - the pull in my breasts - the weight. "Have you noticed yet?" he asks. Of course I've noticed - My boobs are sagging! "N-no, cut it out!" "Chill, what did you expect? Forty-five year old women can't go walking round with the tits of a twenty-five year old - it's just not natural!" "We'll just say I had a boob job!" "Sorry, but that's the kind of news that spreads - we need to be discrete, remember?" "Th-they really ache." "It'll subside in a sec," he says. "Please, I don't want saggy boobs!" "Neither does any woman, but at forty-five it's a natural part of life so....you know the rest. Just think of it as a lesson in womanhood." "You'd better have bought me one hell of a bra!" I growl. The suction cups pop off, my D cup boobs slapping against my round belly. "This...is so gross!" I whine, my face blushing scarlet. "I think it's hot when women get that way -their feminine curves getting beyond their control, their breasts unable to support all that weight." "Just...help me get dressed," I demand. "One thing first," smirks Jay. "NOW what?" I demand. I look down at my breasts, to see my nipples have visibly darkened; no doubt another deliberate effect of the 'milk'. "I want you to try running," ask Jay. "Forget it, mister," I huff, "there's no way I'm going outside." "Not outside, in here. Just run the length of the room, back and forth." "Why?" "It's research. I promise I'll help you dress afterwards." "The things I do for you," I say. I stand facing the end of the room, fists clenched, ready to power across and get this over and done with. "Go!" he says. I set off - but immediately, something is wrong. My fists unclench, flailing loosely in the air as my arms sway. Try as I might, I can't seem to punch through the air the way I used to as a man. My legs are just as bad. Instead of powering forward, I find myself prancing on tiptoe, my hips swaying from side to side. Reaching the end of the room, I set off back in Jay's direction, determined to get it right this time. Nothing changes. As I run, my belly bounces, my tits slapping up and down against my flesh. I'm so embarrassed I could die. "W-what the hell was THAT?!" I fume, breathlessly. "Oh, just a little hypnotic suggestion taking effect," he laughs, close to beside himself. "You promised-" "-That there'd be no accents or anything, yes. But this doesn't do anything like that - it just makes you run like a girl." "You-!" "Go on; try to punch me in the face. Get it all out." "Don't tempt me!" "Come on, saggy tits, what's the matter? Not man enough?" That did it. Clenching my fist, I swing my best punch at him. The connection though, is not what I expect. I give him a feeble slap, not even fazing him. "Wow," he smiles, "you slap like a bitch." "Another little 'suggestion?'" I snarl, hands on hips. "Yup, sorry to make you angry like that, but I thought it best you learn first-hand what your current limitations are." "Very funny." "Come on; friends?" "Absolutely not," I huff, folding my arms and turning my back. It occurs to me, that I'm actually folding my arms over my breasts - not under like when I was Anna. "Seriously, I am sorry. I just get excited about this kind of stuff." "You're still too mean," I reply. "I know, and I will behave - I mean it." He takes my hand in his, kissing it lightly. "Forgive me, my lady." "You really think you're irresistible, don't you?" I say, retracting my hand and trying my best to hold off a smile. "Well, considering you've given yourself to me twice, I must have something." "Just don't expect anything this time around," I wink. The look on Drew's face almost makes the entire earlier ordeal worthwhile. I stand before him, dressed in a blouse, skirt, heels, and even pantyhose. Purse in my hand. "M-Mike?" "It's Diane, actually. But I suppose you'd best call me 'Mom' in public." "Y-you look....almost just like her; like she had a sister or something." "Well, that's just as well, isn't it? Come on, we'd best get going." "Sure, I'll just get my shoes." He walks past me, brushing roughly against my breast. "Ow!" "What?" "You did that on purpose!" "Sorry...I just wanted to see if they were real." "Of COURSE they're real." A mischievous smirk comes to his face. "So...you have tits then?" "Yes, Drew," I sigh, "I do." "And is...IT smaller too?" "I beg your pardon?" "I read your notes...I know it shrinks." "How DARE you!" I glare. I only hope my blush is masking my...well, blushing. "I bet it's smaller than mine," he chuckles. I decide I'm not standing for this. "Listen, young man, unless you want me to start letting certain information slip by 'accident' you'll behave for the rest of the evening. Drew raises his eyebrow, "What kind of information?" "Oh, I don't know...something about bedwetting?" "But I don't-" "-Do you think your teachers will believe that? You'd best be careful; you know how we women like to chat." Drew's face has never looked more serious. "I'll be good." "I know you will." After what seems like an eternal walk with my heels clicking on the sidewalk, we arrive at the school. "What is this?" I ask, looking upon the scene in shock, "Some kind of parent's meeting?" "Well, yeah, why?" "You said they wanted to speak to your parents - you didn't say that the whole school was doing it." "Does that make a difference?" "Of course it does - there are more people here!" "Relax, you're perfectly convincing. Oh, we need to visit two teachers, by the way." "Two?!" "Sorry, I forgot to mention, didn't I?" "Well, duh!" "Sorry." "Where to first?" "Biology class." Oh, how ironic. We sit in the classroom, waiting for the teacher to be done with his current visitors in his smaller office to the far left. I sit cross- legged, purse resting on my lap. Somehow this position feels quite natural for my new shape. "Um...I need the bathroom," says Drew, suddenly. "What? Why didn't you go before we left?" "I didn't need it then." "Just hurry." He speeds out of the classroom. Whilst waiting, I happen to notice a textbook laying open on the desk, just to my right. It's a page on sex education - no doubt the product of some adolescent student wanting a peek at the 'rude drawings'. About to shut the book and push it to one side, something catches my eye. Three figures - one of a girl, another of a teenage girl, and another of a grown woman; I remember seeing this sort of thing back when I was in school. Females seemed so alien then, so unusual; and look at me now. Looking at those sketches though, something bubbles up inside me. Suddenly I hate the 'true' females staring back at me - those experiencing puberty before going on to pregnancy. It was just like that woman back at the pool - they were all gloating, all telling me they've had an experience I'll never have - and have more still! Snatching up the pen on the desk, I scribble frantically over their faces, digging the pen in deep. Feeling this is not enough, I flip the page over furiously, only to come across something perhaps even worse. It's a drawing of an erect penis; all big, hard and sticking upright. It reminds me of Jay's - so big and warm. I start to feel the rise in my panties, a shift into hardness. I slam the book shut, hissing between my teeth. Even nature was laughing at me now - mocking me. Why couldn't I escape this? Why did I have to keep finding myself in this sham of a form, wishing it were so much more? With a tissue, I dab the edges of my wrinkled eyes, removing the traces of tears forming there. Thankfully, Jay used waterproof mascara in anticipation of this, so it shouldn't be too noticeable. "Diane?" "Yes!" I'm so startled I practically leap from my chair. It's the teacher ready to see me. I'm just about to explain Drew's absence when, suddenly, he reappears. "Shall we?" says the man, gesturing towards his office. Twenty minutes later, we leave the classroom. "Well, that wasn't so bad," I say, I don't know why you needed me here instead of...you-know-who." "Oh, I'm pretty good at biology - all sciences, for that matter. No, the real problem is the next teacher - she's a real bitch." "Oh?" "Yeah. By the way, he was really into you." "Who?" "My teacher just then, he had the hots for you." "Don't be absurd." "He did - he never smiles all the time like that. AND he kept looking at your tits." "Do you MIND?! I fume, giving him a swift slap across the backside." "Ow! Chill out, won't you?" "You shouldn't speak to me that way." "What? But I - oh, I see what you mean. Sorry." "Let's just get on with this, shall we? I need to use the bathroom first though." I can feel Drew laughing at me as I hurry into the ladies, but in truth I'm far too desperate to care. Inside, I find the cubicles all locked, with women queued up outside them. I bite my lip, crossing my legs tight. Suddenly I understand why mom and sis take so long when using a public restroom. Was it always like this? This was going to be a close call. If I have one advantage in this, however, it's that I still have my penis. It's a well-known fact that men can hold it for longer than women - we just have stronger muscles down there. Still, in spite of this one blessing, the queue takes ages to break down. Finally, finding one open cubicle at the end, I dash - very effeminately- past the women chatting by the sinks and make my way inside. It's coming even faster than I thought. Dropping my purse to the floor, I wrestle to lift my skirt and find the hem of my pantyhose - Oh, for the days I could just stand in front of a urinal and unzip! Finally getting a hold and pulling them down to my knees along with my panties, I realise I haven't the time to figure out the rest. I plonk myself on the toilet seat, my tiny cock gushing the moment I do. Hitting the water straight on, it sounds absurdly loud. I feel the heat in my face as I blush like I've never blushed before. I'm peeing like a woman! I'm peeing like a woman! I try and slow the flow but there's simply too much pressure. It's also a lot harder when you can't hold onto your cock. On the brink of dying out of sheer embarrassment, only once do I hear another woman making the same kind of noise, do I that I realise it's nothing out of the ordinary in this place - everyone sits to pee and there's nothing they can do about the noise! I consider that blessing number two. Finally finished, I flush and come out to wash my hands. Whilst washing though, I happen to catch sight of myself in the mirror. Somehow my makeup seems to have faded a little, taking my face along with it. I put my purse down in front of me, taking out the portable blush to touch myself up, followed by my lipstick (the non-swelling kind, of course. They are quite big enough already, thank you!). I'm no expert on this kind of stuff, but have fathomed just enough to get by. Things start to look a little better, until I see the young schoolgirl stood beside me, her blonde hair radiating like sunshine. She's applying a few touches to her own make-up - with far better results. I find myself staring enviously at her supple skin, her pert lips. Suddenly, she turns to me. "Can I help you?" she frowns, before looking me over with a sneer. Shrugging, she swings her purse over her shoulder and struts out. Cheeky Bitch! I'll claw her eyes out! Remembering myself though, I simply follow suit and leave to find Drew. My self-pity will have to wait until later - I have things to do. I hate Drew's second teacher the moment I see her. Her name is Miss West. Something of a dark-haired vixen; she sits lounging in her chair, her long legs tapering out of her ridiculously short skirt. Her breasts are enormous, practically forcing open the buttons of her cream blouse and revealing a cleavage I couldn't have competed with even as Anna. Yet, somehow, in spite of those curvaceous thighs and bulging buxoms; she manages to retain the waist of a sixteen year old. "Well," she says, licking her lips, "Drew here has not been well-behaved at all." I watch the reaction on his face. He's embarrassed - but not just because his grades are poor! "What exactly is the problem?" I ask, cutting short her shameless display. "I think this report card speaks for itself," she says, sliding it over to me. I peer over at the card, but the letters are still blurry to me. Perching my purse on my lap, I take out my reading glasses. "It must be so difficult when you find yourself starting to need those," she says, patronisingly, "I know my mom found it SO embarrassing..." "I'm managing, thank you," I reply in a low growl. She wasn't wrong about his report card though - the thing is littered with inadequacies. "I can't stand the idea of getting old," she continues as I read. "I think sagging boobs is my biggest fear." For goodness' sake, couldn't she be a little more professional? "It comes to all us ladies in time," I reply, still reading. "Have yours started?" she asks suddenly. I look up. I'm outraged. But at the same time her comment has brought about a certain awareness within me - an awareness of my breasts. A small tingling starts to form in my nipples as I think about them - all dark, swollen and full of milk. Feeling a familiar rise inside my panties, I adjust my skirt. "If we could please focus on the matter at hand," I say. How old was this bitch; thirteen? Okay, at a serious guess she could be twenty-nine maybe - but she was still immature! "At any rate, Drew is in serious trouble of dropping out," she says. She adjusts herself in her chair, her heaving chest bouncing just slightly. This serves only to remind me of my own chest, which is continuing to tingle as my nipples harden. "I have an issue with this report," I say. "Yes?" asks Miss West, flicking her fringe flirtatiously. "These grades all refer to his personal behaviour. His actual academic grades are all magnificent." "Well, then...he needs to stop being such a bad boy in class or he'll risk jeopardising everything." Drew's smile goes from embarrassed to just stupid. I can't imagine what his hormones are doing right now. The problem is; I'm not doing much better myself. My nipples feel incredible; tingling so madly that, for a moment, I have to look down just to make sure I'm not lactating. Of course, I can't be lactating; my breasts aren't full enough and there's no real pressure on them. That doesn't stop me from having to check though. Raising my hand casually, I brush my breast to check for wetness. Unfortunately, I've forgotten that my nipples are now quite a bit lower at 'this age' and, with nails considerably longer than I'm used to, I accidentally catch one. The sudden shock sends a ripple up my body, causing me to gasp aloud. "I know, Diane," comments Miss West, "it is a little shocking, isn't it?" I dig my long nails into the arms of the chair, steadying myself. My tiny, smooth cock is now fully erect and is pressing against my tight panties. I tell myself to breathe deep and calm down, but my heavy breaths only cause my chest to rise and fall erratically, bringing more attention to the sensations taking place there. It's no good - I can't stay here. "Enough!" I roar, getting to my feet. "I beg your pardon?" she asks. "Miss West; how DARE you criticise Drew's recent behaviour when you're perfectly aware of his personal circumstances. Everyone knows his father only recently left home and that includes the headmaster himself. In spite of how his life has been recently, he continues to excel in all his subjects and all you can do is criticise the fact that he isn't always here on the dot. Well, with all due respect madam, fuck you!" I catch sight of Drew's shocked expression at hearing 'mom' use that awful, awful word. Miss West is reeling. "Have you finished, madam?" "No. I also think it highly inappropriate for a porn star wannabe like you to be around these students, even flirting with them just for your own self-esteem. Do you even have any credentials? I want you to know that I will be making an official complaint to the headmaster regarding you and your behaviour. Come on, Drew, we're leaving." Caught up in the moment, I grab him by the hand, leading him to the door. Energy is still running through me, however, and I feel the need to expel that last bit of anger. "Oh, and by the way, hon, plastic is out. I guess no-one told you before you had THOSE things done." I slam the door behind me as we leave. Everyone seems to have heard the noise and is eagerly looking on. "Th-that was awesome!" beams Drew. "Well, she had it coming," I reply. "Oh, I can't believe I used that awful word." I wasn't just saying that for show, either - I WAS embarrassed. As Mike, I've never thought twice about throwing it into the midst of my dialogue, but as Diane? I was almost mortified. Suddenly, the door swings open. Everyone looks to see Miss West stood there, positively seething. "You...bitch!" she snarls. She's completely lost it. Sprinting across the corridor (I don't know how she manages that, she clearly has better control of her heels than me) she lunges at me, slapping me hard across the face. Out of instinct, I strike back, the hypnotic suggestions in my head reducing my lethal punch into an equally feeble slap. She slaps me again, and I give another in return. The audience is going berserk. Cat fight! Cat fight! "Calm down!" I call to her, "there are children here." She either doesn't hear me or doesn't care. Her hands come around the sides of my head and pull on my hair. Fortunately, as I've said before, these wigs are incredible and, even if you pull one as hard as she is, if you don't know the trick to removing it, it simply won't come off. I retaliate, getting a good fistful of her dark locks and pulling for all I'm worth. We stagger in our heels, each trying to pull the other into submission. This is awful - I feel like a schoolgirl! Suddenly losing her balance, she topples into me. Falling onto my back, she lands on top of me. The chanting rises; some of it clearly driven by the sort of erotic fantasy you would find on an adult channel. My skirt rides high, allowing a few cheeky onlookers a glimpse of my panties. I try to lift the bitch off me but my heels can't dig into the floor enough to give me leverage to do so. My dignity is gone. Suddenly, I am no longer viewed upon by the world as a refined lady, but as a mere female of the species locked in combat with another. I am an object of excitement - of lust. I am protecting my flock against she who would oppose me. To those dogs we are just two bitches having it out. Miss West claws at my face, my response being to try to seize her by the wrists. She drops her weight onto me - her heaving breasts impacting on mine. For a moment we are locked, our nipples scraping against each other through our blouses. My concealed cock goes from semi to full in an instant. "G-get off..." I gasp. The combined weight of our breasts is suffocating me. She refuses to comply and I claw at her thighs, my hand accidentally slipping up her skirt and gripping her firm buttocks. She rises up, wailing in agony as if lost in the thralls of an orgasm. Sweat causes her hair to stick to her face, her black lace bra now visible through her wet, cream blouse. Tears form in her eyes, and I find myself getting tearful as well, courtesy of that wretched CD. She comes in close again in an attempt to pin me. Our bras constricting our breathing, our hot breath intermingles in the air; as well as our tears as hers fall from her cheeks onto mine. She might be weeping though, but she is still certainly no lady. Her claws come down again, latching onto my blouse and pulling. Buttons fly everywhere. Still going like a madwoman, she snares my bra with her nails, pulling it free at she retracts her hand. Cheers fill the corridor as my boobs are exposed. I don't blame Drew for not getting involved - how could he go against his teacher - pure authority - at his age? Fortunately, onlooker DOES decide enough is enough. He comes round the back, trying to pull Miss West off of me via her waist. Unfortunately, he miscalculates, falling on top of her and thus me as well. Her flat crotch is pressed hard against my stiff cock. Thanks to the design of my panties, she can't seem to feel it - but I certainly can! She rubs against my bare nipples, sending ripples through my body. There's nothing I can do to prevent it...I cum. Such is the pressure against my crotch though, that I don't actually feel the spurting. I just feel the tensing in my cock; the throbbing and sharp spasms followed by hot sticky sensation. It reminds me of a wet dream. Finally, the man gets her up onto her feet. I quickly get up to my own as well, but my freed boobs are slapping against me with every movement. No-one takes their eyes off me - especially the gathered teenagers. My emotions have completely bubbled over. I have no idea of what to do! "What is the meaning of this!?!?" oh, thank heaven; it's the headmaster. Half an hour later, Drew and I are walking home. My blouse destroyed, I hold it closed over my bare breasts, feeling the full chill of the night. Inside the headmaster's office, it hadn't gone as badly as I feared. Every witness there had testified that it had been Miss West that had attacked me and that I had merely been defending myself. What's more, it turned out that there had already been complaints against her and, as a result, the headmaster was taking disciplinary action against her. The number of apologies I'd received in those last ten minutes had been uncountable. "Listen," says Drew, "I wanna say thanks for back there." "What do you mean?" "The way you stood up for me like that. I know you didn't have to do it." "Yeah, well, whatever I am to you - or pretending to be - we're still family, right?" "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I'm sorry about all this blackmail stuff and...I'll give you back the portfolio." "Well, I would have expected no less but...you're welcome." He smiles. "You know...you bitch fight pretty well." "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" "Um....well, I guess it makes you a more convincing woman, if that's what you wanna be." "I'm not a woman, Drew. Jay and I were experimenting and it went no further, okay?" "Okay. It's a shame though." "Why's that?" "Because you're really convincing; you might make a cool sister...or aunt." "Um...thanks?" "You know, if you ever wanted to be a little girl and start over...I'd help look after you...as a big brother I mean." "Thanks, but that's not on the agenda. Besides, I don't think they've worked out how to shrink people yet." "No, I guess not. Still, your tits are pretty nice." "'Nice?' They're all saggy. And that's not an appropriate from you." "No, I mean in a convincing way. I can't believe they can do stuff like that." A grin comes to his face. "Cold, is it?" I look down. The cold has made my nipples rigid and, without the covering of a bra, are poking through my blouse. "Never you mind!" I snap, folding my arms. "Anyway, I mean it when I said 'thanks'. You were pretty cool today." "Thanks, but right now I'd much rather be warm than cool..." We get inside the house to find Jay waiting there. I sometimes forget he has his own key. "So," he says, "how did it - whoa! What happened to you?!" "I'll tell you later," I reply. "Off to bed, Drew. It's late." He scurries upstairs, leaving me to tell my tale to Jay as we sit on the sofa. "Wow," he says, "I wish I could have been there." "Why? So you could watch the show?" "No..." he replies, putting his hand on mine, "...so I could have protected you." I blush, brushing my hair back. "A-anyway, I'm gonna go to bed. I can't wait to be normal again tomorrow." "Ah," says Jay, "there might be a small problem with that..." Sensing another revelation, I turn, glaring. "What 'small problem'?" I wake up in my bed and sigh. Three days it's been now. Three days as 'Diane.' Staring at the ceiling, I recall how Jay broke the news to me on that never-ending night. 'What do you mean I'm stuck this way for a week?' I shouted. 'Look, the changes we made this time were more extreme. The milk in your breasts is denser, the cream we you used to add some shape to your figure takes longer to break down. And there are your wrinkles to consider too...' 'So, I'm only going to change back slowly?' 'No, see, the products we used are all timed in synchronicity so that you're either 100% male or 100% female. At the moment, you're female, so you need to wait a week before you change back. I know you probably won't see it this way now, but it's pretty good really as you don't end up half and half.' The conversation had ended there for the night. And the next morning, just as Jay had foretold, I awoke to the body of a woman for the first time ever. Jay had been full of remorse, explaining the only reason he didn't tell me this would happen was because he feared I might back down thus leaving me facing blackmail. He'd tried to make up for it ever since by supplying me with outfits that fit me, so I wouldn't have to wear any of mom's - which was nice of him I guess. It can't have been cheap... I step into the shower, water cascading all over my smooth body. I still haven't gotten used to this - the way the water strikes my nipples so fiercely; or how much more attention my hair requires now. Still, this morning ritual has become a standard procedure for me this week - a small, watery haven where I can take a moment to reflect with the world held at bay by the gushing streams around me. I've remained housebound all week. The neighbours knowing that mom is away for a while means that my presence would certainly create enough of a disturbance for the news to get back to her. Needless to say, I've been bored rigid. Housework was proving my only real salvation - taking on the role of a true housewife, one might say. Peering through the watery veil, I check the clock on the wall. Its 10:00am meaning Drew will be at school. Ergo I'm home alone once again. In a strange sort of way, I find this a turn-on. There's something strangely erotic about being able to walk about the house naked in daylight. I'm not really sure why. What makes this scenario awkward, however, is that I haven't masturbated once since I underwent this transformation (I still don't have a girlfriend and one-night stands really aren't my thing). The problem is, my cock is so small now that I can't really grip it in order to get a good rub and it's been driving me crazy. I'm sure Jay would gladly help me out, but at the moment I'm still officially mad at him. I decide to brush the thoughts from my mind. I'm sure I can hold out for just four more days. As I step out of the shower though and rub my more tender areas with a towel, the feeling returns. I can't take this anymore - I need to cum. Hurrying into my bedroom, I search the bottom of my drawer for one of my naughty magazines. I turn to Cheryl; a brunette who just so happens to have become one of my favourites. Laying the magazine open on my bed, I take my pillow and sit on it, thighs apart. My rounder frame makes it slightly awkward to manoeuvre, but I just about get it right. Cheryl is a perfect specimen of womanhood, her tits remarkable and her smile enchanting. Full of eagerness, I start to rock; my tiny, smooth cock rubbing against the pillow. Two minutes later, though, and I'm still not getting anywhere. I like the picture - I really like the picture - but my cock just won't get hard. "Come on, dammit," I gasp. With my new weight, I get breathless so much quicker now, causing sweat to form on my forehead. I buck my chubby hips faster, trying to talk myself hard. "Gonna take you, bitch....gonna fuck you with this great big cock of mine." Still nothing. Out of frustration, I slap my hand down on the magazine, riffling through the pages to try and find a more effective picture. Maybe I'd just used Cheryl too often? Coming to a picture of a man, I stop. He's not the focus of the article; rather, he's posing in preparation of screwing the woman on the bed. His body is hard and toned, his cock rigid. Soon, I find my own dick going the same way. I start to buck again, my round ass going up and down. "I'm not gay..." I whisper, "I'm not gay..." But still my cock gets harder, feeling the rub of the pillow more and more as I thrust. From somewhere, I find the words to turn me on. "Oh..." I whimper, "Fuck me; take me up the ass. I'm your little bitch..." My balls tighten and I can feel it - I'm on the edge! Suddenly though, I stop. "No," I gasp, mopping the sweat from my brow, "I can't do this...I won't!" I hurry to dress; slipping on my panties and bra before putting on the latest dress Jay has provided me with. I then go through to mom's room to sit at the dresser and arrange my makeup. Rushing through the process to keep my mind occupied, I hurry downstairs to the kitchen, looking to distract myself with something non-sexual - anything! I make an orange juice and drink it down in one, slamming the glass onto the unit. My penis has subsided a little but is still semi-erect. "Stop it," I tell myself, "stop it, Mike...you're not gay." I'm about to close the fridge door when something catches my eye - a carrot. Biting my lip, I reach for it, picking it up gently. I tell myself to stop, but something in the front of my mind refuses to listen. I put it to my lips, touching it gently and licking the tip. "Oooh, stop," I moan quietly. A part of me wants to call Jay - to beg him to come over. My cock is so hard it aches. In a desperate attempt to stop myself, I throw the carrot into the bin only to regret it seconds later. My body is on fire. I need release. I rifle through the things in the fridge, hoping to find a substitute. The nearest thing I come to is half a cucumber, still in its translucent wrapping, though it seems a bit big. Out of desperation though, I try it. I start by taking out a pot of Vaseline, coating the cucumber in its entirety. Then, sitting it upright on the floor via its flat base, I slip off my panties. I lift up my dress slowly, squatting down on the cucumber. Its cold tip touches my anus, sending a cold shiver through my body. I can't stop now though - I need this. I push down gently, my huge buttocks part to allow it in. For a moment there's a twinge, but upon relaxing a little more this slowly becomes replaced by a glowing pleasure. I ride slowly up and down its length, resting my hands on my knees. My smooth cock quivers, pointing upright. Already my chubby thighs are aching. "That's it..." I whisper, eyes closed "take me up the ass..." I imagine the man in the magazine, and myself sitting on his cock. The floor is icy to my bare feet, causing my dark nipples to once again stick out through my dress. Pleasure building inside of me, I dare to dip deeper, allowing a little more in. A voice in the back of my head tells me I'm degrading myself, but at the moment I don't care. Like I said - I need this; I need it to keep me from going crazy. "Now THAT is hot" The voice makes me open my eyes with a start. It's Jay! And he's standing over me with a huge grin on his face... "I...I...um..." I have no idea of what to say. I'm suddenly in the worst situation conceivable - my best friend watching me pleasure myself with a makeshift dildo. My head spins so much I almost pass out. "Having fun?" he chuckles. "G-get out," I gasp. I try to rise but my legs are too weak. He walks over, lifting up the front of my skirt and smiling at my tiny penis. "My, you are enjoying yourself. Naughty little slut, aren't you? A real MILF." "D-don't call me that," I wheeze, trying to recover my strength. He chuckles to himself, grabbing the hem of my dress and - swoosh! He pulls it over my head in one move. "No!" I squeal, trying to preserve what fragment of modesty I have left. He unhooks my bra, stripping it away. Using one hand against the floor to support myself, I use the other to try and cover my sagging breasts. Standing in front of me, Jay unzips his pants, taking out that wickedly huge cock of his. "Do you want it?" he asks. "N-no," I stammer. But I do. He's reading me like a book and, as he brings it daringly closer, I take it into my mouth. I feel small, naked and helpless. And if you consider my current predicament, I am. I bob gently on the 'cock' in my ass whilst sucking hard on the other. I want to feel it - I want to feel his cum on my tongue. I WANT the humiliation. I feel as if I'm being filled from every possible angle. My boobs flap up and down gently as I bob, my cock twitching in preparation of ejaculation. His hands, previously running through my hair, clench suddenly, as his muscles tense pumping his thick spunk into my mouth. The moment it touches my tongue, my own cock reacts. It bounces fiercely, a tiny load without the strength to truly spurt, dribbling down my miniature shaft. I release Jay to let him know I'm finished, and he pulls me onto my feet. "Are you okay?" he asks, holding me steady. For the moment, I haven't the strength to stand on my own and am entirely reliant upon him. "I...I hate myself," I whimper. "What? Why?" he asks, brushing my hair from my eyes. "I want to be a man again. I never to want to be a woman again, Jay; please don't make me a woman again." "Hey, relax. You always go into denial like this. Just admit it's who you are. It's nothing to be ashamed of." I feel my limp dick dripping onto the floor. I choke back the tears, pulling myself away. "No...I'm not your girl, Jay. It's a fetish and that's all it will ever be. A fetish can be done away with." "It's more than that and you know it. Diane...I love you." "Don't you say that, don't you DARE say that. I'm not even a real person!" "Of course you are. Your body changes but inside you're still the same woman. Let's spend some time together, just you and me." "In my present body?" "No, I mean once it's over and you've changed back. We'll look at some other changes and find the real you." "You want me to depend on you and I won't do that." "I think you want to though. You want to be a true woman and that frightens you. Just admit that you want to be a woman." "No." "If you admitted that you want to be with me...that you wanted to be a woman, would you stand by it?" "If I admitted it, yes, but I don't want to so I never will." "Let's change you again." "What? We haven't the money for another box." "It's not that kind of change. It's just an alteration on who you are now. You'll still be normal again in four days' time." "Why should I?" "You want to be out of the house, right? If you're someone else, you can be." "Fine, but it's for that reason only." I sit in the dark listening to the headphones for what could be the last time ever. I can feel Jay making the necessary changes to my body. Preparing THE change. This will decide everything and we both know it. Either the journey ends here or we continue it together. I certainly know what I'm planning to say. I feel the usual run of alterations - the candy, the jelly, the creams, the wig, the makeup - all of it geared towards whatever message Jay wants to give me. It's never felt stranger though - all the changes coming at once. But I guess it's all due to whatever effect Jay wants to create. I want to tell him he's wasting his time, but out of fairness feel I should at least let him have his say. I tell myself this is happening too fast, that I need to get some distance and think this over. But the truth of the matter is that if I don't do this now I never will. And, heaven help me, I just want clarity. "Okay, open!" he says suddenly. How long had it been, seconds or minutes? I open my eyes, only to receive another full blast in the eyes of whatever spray he's got held in his hand. "Ow! What was that for?!" I shriek. I'm shocked to find my voice is even huskier than before. Oh no, he didn't... "Are you okay?" he asks. I try to focus on the image in the mirror before me. "I...I can't see. It's all blurry." "Oops. Guess your eyes have deteriorated more with age. Guess you'll be needing these at all times..." He puts the glasses onto my face, bringing the image in front of me into clarity. "W-what have you DONE to me?!" I gasp, "I look ten years older!" It was true - he'd aged me further. My wig has been replaced by an identical one, but for a few streaks of grey. The jelly used on my face has stretched my wrinkles a little further and the cream rubbed into my body has drained some of the fat and caused it to sag a little. "I...I look gross!" "Not in the slightest," replies Jay. "Anyway, your mom will probably look this way in ten years so don't be so mean." "Jay...why on earth have you done this?" "Hold on...not done yet." And that's when I realise I've got the breast pumps attached to my boobs. It's the first time I've had them attached whilst actually having breasts, which makes this yet another completely new experience. "Wh-what are you up to now?" I ask. Jay just smiles the way he always does. "Watch," he replies, hitting the button. The familiar pumping sounds kick in, but - wait; they're not pumping milk INTO my breasts.... "Y-you're draining my boobs!" I gasp. "Yup." I watch as the milk is pumped out of my nipples like the ultimate breast-feeding machine. As I look on in horror, my flattening boobs droop, my nipples coming all the way down to my belly button. "That should do," he says, leaving just a little at the bottom. "H-how on earth does THIS help!?" I shriek, pointing to myself. And then it happens - a wave of raw emotion filling me and spilling out through my eyes in the form of tears. "Menopausal woman are often hugely emotional," says Jay, straight-faced. I'm doing this to ask you an important question." "W-what q-q-question?" I sob. The hypnotic suggestions seem to have full control over my emotions. More accurately, they've taken all of the control I had previously away. "This will be you one day, Mike. When you've finally admitted who you are and have started living your life as Michelle or whoever you want to be; this is who you will be." "A g-glimpse of the future?" I sniff, wiping my eyes. "Why?" "To ask you: once you're like this do you want to be alone and regretting all the things you could have had during your youth? Or would you like to have me or even someone else by your side, having shared a thousand wonderful memories with you?" "Th-that's not a fair question," I reply. Then suddenly, I gasp. My cock is rising yet again. Would this never end? "Oh, the suggestions give you a few general 'hormonal effects'. Sorry, I would have avoided that if I could. This is just an expansion pack, after all." "Y-you bastard," I whimper, trying to grip and rub my tiny dick. Unable to gain release as always, I sit on the bed, placing a pillow between my thighs and bucking. "That's quite sweet," he smiles; watching me. "S-screw you," I say, giving him the middle finger. My drained, flat boobs are flapping as I rock and I feel ridiculous. "Stop looking at me." "Does this help?" he asks, undressing right before me. "Stop it; I don't want to see your cock." "No? Then why can't you take your eyes off it?" "Jay..." I sob, "please..." "I've taken your control of your emotions away, Michelle." "Don't call me that." "It's who you are on the inside. I've taken away your control so you can't lie to yourself anymore. First question" he walks towards me, "do you like men?" I want to say no, but seeing it just hang there, I find there's something I'd much rather bring to my lips than a lie. "Yes..." I say, taking it up in my hand and starting to stroke it to hardness. "Okay, second question: do you want to be a woman?" I bring my hand to my nipple, rubbing it. I consider the alternative of being a man, of having everything that goes with it and never having this experience again - not just sexually, but emotionally and in the way that I've discovered so much more about myself in a total of six days as a female, as opposed to a lifetime as a male. "Y-yes...s-s-o much" my lips tremble so much I can barely get the words out. I feel as if I'm going to dehydrate through crying alone. "Okay, final question: do you want to try spending the rest of your life with me?" Having made him fully erect, I turn my back to him and bend over, trying to guide him into me. He complies. "Y-yeesss," I moan, now on all fours. He thrusts back and forth into me; my hanging breasts swaying wildly, my nipples almost scraping against the sheets. "Then we'll do it, Michelle," he grunts, "We'll do it together. No matter what age you are, I'll still love you and will always make love to you as such." "I'm afraid, Jay," I whimper. "I feel like I'm becoming lost in this and-" a sudden ripple through my body. I rub my ass hard against him, my buttocks almost touching his balls "-And I can't do it alone." "You don't have to...you'll have me." My glasses fall from my face with the motion. Tears gushing down my cheeks like two waterfalls, I cry wildly. "Jay...Jay...take me. Make me a woman, please. I don't want anyone else to do it: Make me yours!" He complies with the most powerful climax I have ever felt. We lie in my single bed hunched up together, completely exhausted. "So this is it, then..." I say. "We're...together." "Yeah," he says, stroking my hair. "Just so you know; I plan on staying young after this. No more MILF fantasies, okay?" "Okay," he chuckles. "Anyway, it's not like you're actually older. It's just a guise." "That's true. But still...it's going to be embarrassing walking around like this. And we certainly can't be together in public." "No," he says, kissing my cheek. It'll be our little secret. No-one would believe you're really my age anyway." "That's true. You do good work. Still, at least I can go outside now without anyone thinking I'm my mom's long lost sister." "That's true. You're your own woman now." "That's a strange thought. But I do hope that one day they can make these changes permanent." "I'm sure they will. In the meantime, we've got a lot of exploring to do." "Yes," I reply, holding his hand, "let's explore together." And as we drift off together, I wonder if I've made the right choice. It didn't matter really - I'd made a promise to at least try this out. Jay had found a way to strip away my defences, get to my core, and this was the result. Maybe now we can both learn who I really am... Phew, that was a much longer one! I hope you guys all enjoyed it, as I'd certainly like to write some more for you all. I do have a rough ending in mind at this stage, but whether that will change or if it will even reach that stage will once again depend on you fine people. What do you like most? What do you want to see more of? What would you like to see Mike endure? Are there any particular changes you're longing to see that the 'science' here hasn't yet provided? Let me know - I promise I am reading each and every comment with due care and attention. Well, until next time, take care of your fine selves and keep the fantasy alive!