One Too Many Times free porn video

Information: This is mostly a full story but is left open to continue in one of two directions at the end. Please leave a review if you'd like the story to continue in a certain direction. I love feedback! Title: One too many times My name is, or at least was, Bradley (Brad for short). I was your typical high school jock with very few aspirations aside from partying and hooking up with chicks. Once I graduated high school, I went off to college but couldn't keep up with the studies and dropped out. My parents were pissed (they had footed the bill), and didn't let me move back in with them and refused to support me financially anymore. Whatever, it was for the best. So, I had to get an apartment; a dumpy old place. And since I wanted to keep up my party lifestyle, I had to get a job. Still being in good shape from athletics, I worked a bit as a landscaper and any other physical labor job I could find. I didn't care; it was easy work to me. And I definitely wasn't smart enough to get an office job somewhere. I did have one skeleton in my closet. I got turned on by chick's clothes. It started years ago, with masturbating into the thong of one of the freshman girls I used to bang. It was weird, but gave me the strongest orgasm. Next time she was over, I hid her underwear and she had to leave without them. After she'd left, I considered masturbating into them again but a light went on: what if I masturbate while wearing them? And holy shit. Feeling the lace panties against my shaft immediately made me rock hard. I stroked my cock and it didn't take long before I was exploding all over inside the panties. I washed them and let her know I found them under the sheets. Naturally this... Fetish... Progressed. When my mom would go away on travel (she was a fairly fit business executive, so she had a lot of business attire; pencil skirts, blouses, heels, etc.), I'd sneak into my parents' bedroom and try on some of her clothes. A bra here, a dress there. It made me feel like a pussy but I also couldn't deny how much it turned me on. I'd almost always have to masturbate within minutes of wearing the clothing, as my cock would start to throb/ache if I didn't. Luckily my dad worked long hours as a lawyer, so I had plenty of time to "experiment" between when I got home from school and when he got home from work. That continued all through high school, until I went to college. It was a bit more difficult in college; having a roommate and all. But I'd still occasionally sneak on a thong or panties just to get off from time to time. I was too afraid to go beyond that, not wanting to ruin my reputation as a macho guy. And that's really all it was. I had no interest in being a girl, or even wearing girls' clothing. I was only attracted to women, and found guy on guy stuff revolting. But something about wearing those clothes, just briefly, to get off, had an effect like no other. Once my parents more or less disowned me for wasting their money on college, I had a bit more freedom. I had my own apartment (tiny studio above a run-down electronics shop), and aside from working, had a lot of free time. I still found plenty of chicks to hook up with, and always managed to hide clothing. Or swipe something if we went to her place. I ended up with a small collection of items in my closet that I used when I hadn't gotten laid in a while, and wanted an amazing orgasm. A couple pairs of shoes (that were definitely too tight on my feet but eh they did the trick), a couple shirts, several bras and about a dozen pairs of underwear. Dresses would be too easily missed so I avoided those even though they turned me on possibly more than anything else. About a year or so later I was starting to get bored with the same stuff. I'd tried buying stuff online but for some reason, it was much hotter knowing a woman had worn the stuff. New stuff just didn't do it. I needed to come up with a plan. And I did. I'd been at the landscape job long enough that I began to learn more about the clients. Most were pretty typical people/families/etc. But there was one house. The owner was a wealthy middle-aged woman who still looked amazing for her age of probably 50ish (I assumed she'd had plastic surgery or something because she looked great for her age). She was always extremely fashionable, going to banquets and balls, charity events, etc. Apparently, she had married into money, and after her husband died, she decided to use the money to spend a lot of time overseas; Europe mostly, I think. I came up with a brilliant plan. Any time she was in town while we were working on her yard, I would make sure to chat her up. My goal was to befriend her, as it seemed she was at times a bit lonely. And it worked. She started to talk to me more, and even welcomed me in for a glass of lemonade on occasion. Finally, she triggered the trap. She asked me if I'd be interested in house sitting for her. Her 18-year-old daughter had been caring for the house while she finished private high school, but had just moved out of state for college, and could no longer help out. What a perfect opportunity! I gladly said yes. She asked me to just stop over once a week and make sure everything was okay and where it was supposed to be. I nodded, having a hard time hiding my grin. This would be exactly what I was looking for. She did promise me not to go in her bedroom as there was family heirlooms and other items that shouldn't be touched, to which I replied "sure not a problem" (ha yeah right). She also allowed me to start addressing her by her first name, "Eliza" (previously I'd always addressed her as madam or ma'am, trying to be polite). I was taken aback when she offered to pay me, forgetting that she wasn't aware I was going to be benefiting from this arrangement regardless of financial compensation. $500/month. Woah. That was almost enough to fully cover my rent payment. Nice. A month later, she was gone. France this time. I followed her instructions and stopped by once a week to check on the house. I didn't get into anything, unsure if there were cameras or other sensors watching me. I used these visits to evaluate the house. It was large for sure, but not obscene. Doors were left open for air flow, with the exception of her master bedroom and another room on the other side of the house. They were both shut and locked. I knew this was my end goal. But I kept my patience. After a couple of months (of her 4-month trip) evaluating the house I'd found no cameras and no sensors on her bedroom door. It seemed safe. Getting into her bedroom was easier than I'd imagined. I was able to slide a tool between the door and frame, and slide the latch open. I opened the door and was impressed by what I saw. Her bedroom was huge. It also had two large walk-in closets, and its own large bathroom with a beautiful vanity. There were a couple of dressers and an armoire. Careful to make sure to note how everything was arranged, so I could put items back exactly as they were, I got to work. I found where she kept her underwear, bras, and stockings / panty hose in the dresser. Where she kept her many dresses, skirts, blouses and pants in one of the walk- in closets. The other walk-in closet was filled with shoes from floor to ceiling on one side, and also showcased several hats, which fit well with some of the charity events and horse races she attended. She had a huge jewelry chest, which I'm sure was worth more money than I'd ever make in my lifetime. Surely this is why she didn't want me in here, I thought. There was also a curious scent to all the clothing (not a bad smell, just... interesting), and they all seemed to be of excellent handmade quality. I hadn't taken her to be a seamstress but maybe there was more to her than I'd realized. I decided I'd wait until next week to sample some of these. But as I was about to leave the room, I noticed some extremely old / weathered bound books stuffed in the corner of the closet. My curiosity got the best of me and I pulled them out. They were filled with hand writing in a language other than English. I wasn't sure what it was. Didn't seem like French or Spanish, and beyond those, I was clueless; maybe Latin? But besides some of the text were drawings of various articles of clothing, both on human figures, and by themselves. Pages filled with text and drawings of dresses, pages with bras, pages with shoes, even pages with jewelry. It was amazing even though I didn't know what I was looking at. I stuffed them back where I'd found them and went home. The next week dragged by as I day dreamed of trying on some of her clothes and jacking off. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to go back early. But I had to follow the routine. I didn't want to do anything suspicious and be caught by a neighbor or something. Finally, the day came. I rushed over there already getting turned on just thinking of the clothing I could jack off while wearing. I figured a bra would be a good start. I entered her bedroom, quickly glancing over at the books I'd stuffed away. They were perplexing, but not nearly as interesting as all these clothes. I went over to her dresser and pulled out one of her red bras with black lace. A bra I would love to see on a chick I'm banging. I checked the size; 36DD. Nice. I knew she had a nice body but this was proof. I pulled off my t-shirt, slipped my arms through the straps, and clipped it in the back. Almost immediately my body shuddered and the bra clung to my skin. I felt an intense tingling sensation in my chest like I was being electrically shocked. What the hell... did she boobytrap her clothes?? I immediately tried tearing off the bra but it wouldn't budge. It was like it was glued to my skin. The painful tingling continued as I frantically tried to get this thing off me. I quickly froze as I began noticing something else. The cups of the bra were expanding slightly, as if they were being filled. I watched in terror as my chest swelled and pushed outward, not only filling the bra cups but also creating deep cleavage in between them. I felt the weight of them pulling me forward. Just as I was about to run out of the room to grab scissors, it stopped. No more tingling, no more tight sensation on the straps. But instead of nice pecs like I normally had, I had too huge feminine breasts filling this bra! I realized the bra was no longer stuck to me and quickly tore it off. My heart was racing as the bra fell to floor and my new heavy breasts heaved up and down. What the hell is this shit. I almost passed out, but within seconds of the bra being removed, the breasts began shrinking. Slowly, buy surely. The large erect nipples slimmed back down and within a minute my chest was back to normal. It took me several minutes to process what had happened. It seemed unbelievable but it had to be... The bra had some type of curse on it or something. When worn, it grows breasts, which disappear when removed. I'd never even considered having breasts or anything feminine; it was always just the clothing that had turned me on. But now I was curious. I decided to muster up the courage to try one more time, to test my theory. I slipped the bra back on and again, it quickly clung to my skin, and the painful tingling returned while my chest expanded to fill the bra. This time when it stopped, I didn't pull the bra off immediately. I wanted to evaluate this. It wasn't a padded bra, so my nipples, now erect again, were pushing through quite obviously; little nubs pushing the material of the bra. I felt them, which caused a shiver of pleasure down my spine. I grabbed each breast and squeezed, pushed them up, down, back and forth. These were real. Not my imagination. They were heavy on my back but... It was also kind of hot. The idea of someone seeing me like this made me sick though, so I figured I'd better make the most of it. I laid down on her bed and jacked off with one hand while massaging my new nipples with the other. The explosive orgasm came quickly. I removed the bra, and my chest shrank as expected, back to normal. I quickly dressed and left. I spent that week fascinated by what had transpired. A bra that transforms someone's chest. Damn think of how much money you could make. Flat chicks would buy these in droves! Then it came to me... What if it's more than just the bra. I recalled the strange books, the drawings of bras and human figures, and the other clothing that was featured in the book. I realized I needed to try something new. The day came and I quickly grabbed a pair of underwear. Not sure what effect these would have, I grabbed the most conservative pair I could find; full coverage boy short style. I took a deep breath and slipped them on. They were probably a size or two too small for me so it was a struggle to get them on, but once they were pulled all the way up, they pulled even tighter, almost too tight. The tingling began. This time it was worse. The pain was intense and was present all around the area that the underwear covered; my ass, hips, and of course, my cock and balls. I was afraid to look but finally did. I watched in terror as my bulge slowly grew smaller, and smaller, until finally I couldn't see it at all. The pain was intense. I grabbed at the panties, freaking out that they were shrinking my manhood. But it was not no avail. I grabbed at my package but couldn't find it, as I grabbed at the smooth surface of the underwear, I could feel ridges appearing. Small at first, then more pronounced. I panicked as I realized what was happening. My penis had been replaced by a vagina. I passed out. When I awoke my head was sore where I must have hit in on the bed. It took me a minute to get my bearings. I was in Eliza's bedroom. And... I was wearing her underwear. Holy shit. It came back to me. I looked down and saw small evidence of a camel toe from my new vagina, and also noticed my hips were slightly protruded out. My butt checks also felt tighter and more refined. Still freaking out about my loss of manhood, I quickly removed the underwear, hoping, like the bra, it would return to normal. I breathed a sigh of relief as I watched the small soft vagina slowly smooth over, and revert back to my penis and balls. My hips slimmed back down and my ass returned to its normal uninspired shape. Now knowing I would at least return to normal, I wanted to experiment again. I realized I wanted to explore this vagina concept a bit more... In depth. So, I investigated a theory... I went back to the underwear drawer, replaced the boy shorts, and searched and searched until A-ha. Exactly what I was looking for. Crotchless panties. I always loved banging chicks that were wearing these. You could bang them through the open area while still getting a nice view of sexy undies. And these ones were definitely sexy; red see through lace, and leaving very little to the imagination. If I put these on, my cock and balls would hang through the opening, and my butt cheeks would be on full display. As a lot of these clothes did, it made me feel like a homo to even consider wearing them, but the curiosity was intense. After a minute of pondering, I went for it. I slid the red lace panties up my legs, unsure if it would have any effect on my manhood since it wasn't going to actually cover them, but apparently that didn't matter. As soon as the panties were pulled all the way up, the tightening and tingling began. Like before, this tingling was way more painful than the bra was, but unlike the first pair of underwear, I also felt more pain in my hips and ass, rather than just my groin. I watched, now with a full view, as my cock and balls slowly shrank and disappeared, and quickly inverted, with thin vagina lips forming in their place. I could feel the vaginal cavity growing inside me as I watched my hips and ass cheeks expand out again. This time though, they expanded further than before. My ass was now firm and lifted, but large, and my hips were that of a fertile 20-year-old woman. It didn't take me long to realize that each specific article of clothing had a unique effect. Boy shorts were likely to provide conservative results, while crotchless panties resulted in, well, a body that's worth banging. This time I didn't take them off right away. I wanted to explore. And explore I did. I slowly slid my pointer finger along my new lips, and shivered once I reached the top. I pushed a little harder and inside the top of the slit until I found the clit. It caused a sensation I'd never experienced before. And I couldn't help but rub it harder and harder, faster and faster, adding a second finger to increase the intensity. Before long, my whole body shuddered and seized and wave after wave of orgasms took over. The intensity was 10 times greater than I'd ever had with my dick. After the final wave finished, I collapsed, with the occasional shiver of pleasure continuing to course through my body. Normally that would be it for me; blow and go. But I realized my new vagina was still aching for more. This time I slide a finger inside, where it was already dripping wet. I added my middle finger. In and out I moved my fingers, seeking out the G spot I knew all too well to look for. I found it and went to work. Again, faster, and harder. Finally, I hit climax and a wave of juices rushed over my fingers onto the floor. I don't know what caused me to do it, but I withdrew my fingers and licked them, which I found strangely sexy. I realized I'd spent too much time there, removed the underwear, cleaned up, and left. It was growing increasingly difficult to focus on work. I kept thinking about my next visit to Eliza's house. It didn't take long to finally break my rule of going once a week. By midweek I couldn't take it anymore. I went back over to the house. I knew bras would get me breasts, underwear a vagina... What else. Today would be a day of experiments. To see what the various items did. I put on a pair of conservative black flats. Eliza was clearly several sizes smaller than me so I had to stuff my feet in; painfully so. But as soon as they were on, the tingling began. Within a minute, the tingling stopped and my feet no longer felt tight in the shoes. I realized they had actually shrunk my feet! Instead of a men's size 11, my feet were probably closer to a women's size 7. It felt weird to walk, and I knew I wanted to try more items so I moved on. A pair of 4inch red dress pumps had a similar effect of shrinking my feet, but I also noticed my calves were slimmed and shapely, and my ankles had shrunk to be more feminine. Interesting. A pair of tall wedges with visible toes had a similar result, although I was also able to view my new feminine slender toes.They looked extremely feminine and soft. Enough of shoes I thought, and moved on. I tried on a tank top with a built-in shelf bra and found it to have a similar effect to the bra, while also dramatically altering my shoulders (slimmer), collar bone (more visible), and stomach (much slimmer). I tried on a pencil skirt and noticed my ass cheeks plump up, hips expand out, and thighs/calves become slenderer. Not wanting to stop there, I tried on a sundress. Seeing as it covered my whole body, I was curious what it would impact. And it did impact mostly everything it covered. Everything became slenderer except my breasts and ass which slightly grew. But nothing was quite as extreme as the individual apparel. What effect would jewelry have, I wondered? I searched forever but finally a found a pair of clip-on earrings; not like I was going to pierce my ears for this experiment... I clipped them onto my lobes and felt a sharp pain. I looked in the mirror and they looked to be pierced through my ears! I quickly took them out and was amazed as I watched the bar of the earrings revert back to clips, and the holes in my ears fill in and disappear. Interesting. I slipped a necklace around my neck and saw my neck slim incredibly, while my Adams apple disappeared. One unexpected result was that my voice grew higher in pitch. I came to find out that the specific necklace also affected this. "Older style" necklaces, like what an older lady would wear, resulted in a pitch higher than my own, but lower than the others. The more juvenile necklaces resulted in much higher pitches. Each time I tried something new, I removed the prior item. I wasn't sure how they'd interact with each other and was not prepared to deal with any of this being permanent. I was still a dude, with no interest of being a woman. Having to explain some of this stuff to the guys at work would suck. Some additional things I discovered: stockings and panty hose removed all the hair from my legs and made my legs incredibly slender and sexy, gloves made my hands and arms the same; even makeup had an effect. Lipstick made my lips plump; the more overdone and overdrawn the lipstick, the plumper the lips. I'd be lying if I said I didn't experiment with how far I could take it. I was able to get my lips to look like two giant cushions; the kind of lips sluts who desire nothing but a cock between their lips have. They looked ridiculously hot, but it also kind of grossed me out to imagine these... my... lips, anywhere near a cock. I quickly wiped it off. Then there was mascara which made my lashes grow nearly an inch long. I applied a little more, and my lashes grew even more. The long dark lashes made my eyelids feel heavy. Foundation changed my facial structure; slimming of the nose, chin and cheeks, and redefined cheekbones.This was insane. I knew I was running out of time so I decided to try one more thing. Lingerie. I searched through her closet for the perfect item to end with, and found exactly that. It looked to be a white bridal corset, maybe back from when she got married. It was the kind that covered both the abdomen and breasts. Worth a shot. I'd removed a few corsets from girlfriends in the past so I had somewhat of an idea what I was doing. I laid it out in the bed, loosened the strings, and then pulled it up to my body with the laces in back and clips in front. I clipped all 10 clips in the front and began pulling the straps in the back to tighten it. The tingling began throughout my abdomen, sides, backand chest. Each time I pulled it tight, more tingling, and I'd realize it felt loose again. So, I pulled it tight again, more tingling. Feeling of looseness. This happened several times until finally the tingling went away and I felt the corset was as tight as it possibly could be. I'd been so focused on the tightening I hadn't paid attention to the breasts which had grown to fill the cups of the corset and had the appearance of overflowing. My new breasts looked like that of a Victorian Era princess. Pushed up to the sky, and appearing like a shelf, as if you could balance a glass of wine on top of them. I looked in the mirror and my jaw dropped. Apparently with each tightening, my body had slimmed, making more room for additional tightening. Considering this had happened maybe 8 times, the results were incredible. My waist was tiny yet my bust was large. Exactly the type of body I liked in a woman. It felt weird knowing this was my body but I didn't care, knowing that nobody would ever see me like this (thank God, I thought). It was challenging to breath and move so I slowly removed the corset and watched my strangely thin yet busty body return to its normal male form. I spent the next several visits trying different styles of different items, curious the effect they'd have. I also started going through the back door exclusively, hoping my increased rate of visits would go unnoticed by the neighbors. I'd always unlock the several heavy-duty locks with the key Eliza gave me, and place it along with my phone, wallet and car keys on the elegant entry table by the door. I didn't want to accidentally leave anything there. Finally, with Eliza returning next week, I spent several visits making sure everything was back in order. Clothes exactly where they'd been left, and the door locked and secure. I was confident I hadn't missed anything. I locked all the locks on the back door and went home. After Eliza returned, she invited me over for tea (not something I normally drank, but I couldn't say no). When I entered the house, she greeted me with an appreciative smile and hug. Clearly, she was clueless as to what I'd been up to. I wanted to ask her how the clothing worked; was it magic? Something else? But no, not only did I not want her to know I'd entered her room, there's no way in hell I wanted her to know I'd been wearing her clothing. We chatted a bit about her trip, about how it had been uneventful here at her house, and we even chatted about her daughter, Samantha, and how she was doing at college. She showed me her high school year book from last year and wow. She was a knockout. And because she had gone to catholic school, she was wearing what I found to be a pretty sexy catholic school girl outfit. I finally realized of all the rooms I'd been in at the house, I hadn't come across a teenage girl's bedroom. Maybe it was the only other locked door which I'd been too distracted to explore. I considered asking about the door but realized it may raise her guard. I knew what I would be doing as soon as she went on another trip. Months passed and I had to resort to jacking off to girlfriend's underwear again. It wasn't bad but it was... Different now. I couldn't place it. But at the same time, it was also a bit of a relief not constantly worrying about being caught wearing women's clothing like a pervert. Finally, 7 long months later, I got the call. Eliza would be spending a few months in Japan. My heart raced with excitement. I let her know that sure, I'd watch the house again. No problem. Same pay as before, which I greatly appreciated, though didn't need. Exploring her wardrobe was payment enough. But she didn't know that. I spent a couple visits there trying on different full outfits this time. One that made me look like a secretary, one for going to the derby, etc. But I wanted to try something new. I realized it was time to look behind door number 2. On my third visit, I went for it. Like before, I was able to get the lock opened, and entered Samantha's room. It mostly looked like a typical teenage girl's bedroom. Lots of pinks and whites. Photos of friends and guys on the wall. Smelled of lavender. But it was a large room, and like her mother's, had a large walk in closet, and her own bathroom. I found her panties and tried them on. Like before, my genitals shrunk, disappeared and were replaced by a pussy. This time it seemed smaller; tighter. I confirmed that it was near impossible to fit more than a single finger inside; two made it feel like it was going to tear, so I stopped, unsure if damaging it would damage my dick when it came back. Everything I tried on had similar effects to Eliza's clothes, just slightly... Off. Bras were quite a bit smaller, which meant the breasts grew smaller to fill them. Also, I noticed that when I put on a full outfit, it amazingly made my whole body shrink from my naturally 5'11" frame down to about 5'4." Incredible. I had fun with this new set of "toys" and spent the next several weeks trying different combinations and jacking off each time. One day I decided to try on one of Eliza's bikinis. I slipped on the top and drooled as the large DD breasts filled the cups. I then pulled on the matching bottoms and I suppose because it was a "set" watched as my body transformed. My stomach tightened and flattened out; legs long and shapely, everything slimmed down except my plump ass and busty rack. I didn't want to bother with makeup so I still had my natural-everything from the neck up. I watched in the mirror as I finger banged this sexy body which I couldn't believe was mine. I orgasmed several times but decided to try something new. I took off the bottoms, but left the top on. My penis grew back and now I had a rock-hard penis, and huge breasts. It looked weird; recognizing that I looked like a shemale, but I always did enjoy a good cum shot.... I laid down on the bed and stroked my dick furiously while fondling my large breasts. Finally, when I felt near completion, I raised my pelvis up as high as it could go, and shot strings of semen all over my enormous tits, stomach, and even had some hit my neck. It was hot while I watched cum spray over these huge breasts, but I quickly grew sick. I'd always found the smell of semen foul, and the idea of having semen on me, rather than a girl I was banging, was rather unpleasant. I realized I had to shower or else I was going to throw up from the smell and sticky feeling. Knowing that Eliza might notice someone had used her shower, I ran over to Samantha's room. Surely Eliza doesn't go in here often; she won't notice. I decided to go in wearing the bikini top since that needed to be washed too now. The warm water pouring over my breasts felt great, as did finally being able to get the gross semen off my body. I was about to get out of the shower but noticed a couple of bottles on a shelf next to my elbow. They had handwriting on them in the same language as the books. I couldn't read what they said in that language but they also had a few lines of English written on them. One said conditioner, one said body wash. Both said, "Leave on for best results." My curiosity got the best of me and I decided to try them. First, the conditioner.I wet my short hair, then applied the conditioner heavily, scrubbing it into my scalp. I then washed my entire body and face with the body wash. My whole body was on fire and just as I almost decided to rinse it off, the fire sensation dissipated, and tingles took its place. I watched in amazement as my body hair visibly retracted into my body. Arm hair, leg hair, chest hair, pubic hair; it was all disappearing. Not falling out, but going INSIDE. I felt my face and realized the same thing was happening. My stubble was disappearing inside my face. While that was happening, I could feel something strange happening to my head. It felt like something was being pulled out of it. Like someone had attached a string to a blade of hair, and was pulling it. Except suddenly it felt like ALL my hairs were being pulled at once. I reached up and was shocked to feel my hair growing at a ridiculous rate. And it wasn't stopping. Again, my curiosity prevented me from stopping and rinsing out the conditioner. Several minutes later all sensations stopped, as did the growth. My hair had grown down to the small of my back, and I had bangs. This was insane. I stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror. Woah. My face was the same but my hair was long, silky, and luscious. Between the tits still present in Eliza's swim top that I hadn't removed, and the hair, holy shit it looked hot. Not to mention no facial hair or anything. But still, I couldn't be seen like this, and I had it head out, so I removed the bikini top, and stepped back in the shower. Not knowing what to expect, I began rinsing my hair hoping that somehow, this would all reverse. And thank God, it did. Once the conditioner was all out, and my body was fully rinsed, my body/facial hair returned, and the long luscious hair retracted inside my body, leaving me with my bland short light brown hair. This was starting to get intense. I could more or less look exactly like a girl with all this stuff. It was a major turn on at the time, but really, any time I'd wear it and finish jacking off, I'd be ready to go back to looking like me again. I was really just using it as a tool for masturbating I realized. It was hot, but there's no way in hell I wanted to look like that for real. I'd rather bang chicks than be a chick, I knew for certain. I realized I should probably start being careful. What if something goes wrong and I get stuck like that? I felt the risk wasn't worth it, and considered maybe going back to just jacking off into girlfriend's underwear... But... Maybe one last time, go out with a bang. And that's what I decided. I'd go over one more time to "play" and then that would be it. I'd lock the bedroom doors for good. As usual, I entered the back door, put down the house key, phone, wallet, and car keys on the table, and went to work. This time, I was going to combine the best of both worlds; make the perfect bangable girl. Some from Eliza's room, some from Samantha's room. But to start; shower time. I searched through the closet in Samantha's bedroom and found a bottle of shampoo with the distinct foreign handwriting, except this one had a dark brown label. Worth a shot. I got into the shower and applied the shampoo like before, and body wash to my whole body, leaving only my eyebrows and eyelashes untouched. Again, my body hair retracted, leaving my genitals looking like a naked mole rat. The hair on my head began growing and growing and finally stopped halfway down my back. The bangs were prominent again. However, this time, the hair was a deep dark silky brown. No evidence of my plain light brown hair at all. I figured it would be easier to do makeup before clothing; I'd discovered boobs often got in the way of otherwise simple tasks. So, I got to work. I went to Samantha's vanity and applied a heavy heavy dose of mascara and smiled as my lashes grew extremely long; looking as if I were wearing long thick false lashes. But nope, they were mine, at least for now. I put on eyeliner and shadow, which seemed to physically widen my eyes and make them really "pop." I applied heavy foundation to my entire face and watched as my nose thinned dramatically, with a slight upturn, my jaw and chin narrowed, my cheeks grew thinner and my brow structure became less pronounced. I applied some eyebrow liner which I found to be effective at giving me a nice arch like most attractive girls I'd seen. Next was lipstick and lip liner. Applying them provided some volume and plumpness, but I didn't want to go overboard and look like a fish. It also made them more naturally pink. Likewise, with the blush which made my checks rosier. Looking in the mirror, I couldn't recognize myself. It looked like an attractive teenage girl looking back at me. Amazing stuff I thought, getting hard just thinking about jacking off to this hottie. I noticed a few more things worth trying at Samantha's vanity. Teeth whitening strips, that I applied to my teeth and watched as they absorbed into my enamel, instantly creating a bright sparkling white smile. There were also several bottles of eye drops, labeled with different colors, and all having the foreign handwriting. I grabbed the bottle labeled blue and dropped a few drops in each eye. I grew worried as I felt a burning sensation in each eye but moments later the sensation subsided and I was able to open them and look in the mirror. Instead of my boring brown eyes, looking back at me in the mirror were a pair of the most beautiful crystal blue eyes I'd seen. Damn, this technology is amazing, I thought. Now that my face and hair were that of a hot babe, it was time to make the rest match. Time for some combinations I grinned. I slipped on a pair of crotchless panties that I found in Samantha's dresser; they were a bit smaller than Eliza's but they'd do the trick. As expected, my manhood disappeared and was replaced by the small tight vagina I'd grown accustomed to when wearing Samantha's panties. It was definitely cuter and more sensitive than the vagina I ended up with when wearing Eliza's. But you can't beat a good pair of breasts, so on from Samantha and over to Eliza's. I found a sexy risqu? pink with black polka dot bra, with heavy pushup padding. Quickly, my breasts formed to fill the cups, then push up over the top. They looked extremely perky, almost as if fake. But squeezing and bouncing them, I could tell they were in fact, very real. Back to Samantha's room, where I grabbed the skimpiest school uniform I could find. A plaid skirt that stopped just above the knees, white knee- high stockings, and one of her uniform blouses, which normally fit conservatively and provided full coverage, but my now enormous breasts caused the blouse to lift up slightly near the abdomen, leaving skin visible. This reminded me of a good opportunity to try on one of my favoritepieces, one last time. I returned to Eliza's room and found her lingerie. This time, I grabbed an under-bust corset; the kind you can wear over clothing. I wrapped it around my abdomen and clasped the hooks in the front. As before, I tightened the back straps, waited for my body to reform, then tightened again. I did this a few times but stopped before going all the way. I wanted to be able to breathe, and really enjoy this masturbate session. Most of Samantha's shoes were conservative, which were of little interest to me, so I grabbed a pair of Eliza's black Mary Jane style 5inch heels and stuffed my large feet into them. As expected, my feet shrunk and shrunk until they fit snuggly but comfortably inside the heels. Between the shoes, stockings, skirt, and blouse... I guess that was considered a full outfit because in a matter of minutes my body shrunk down to the previously experienced 5'4" slender frame. Just a few more things to seal the deal. I searched Eliza's jewelry and found some large silver hoop clip on earrings and clipped them on. In a matter of seconds, my earlobes developed holes, and the earrings quickly inserted their posted through, and clasped in the back. The 2-3-inch hoop earrings felt heavy tugging on my ears, but I knew it was only for a short while. Eliza's necklaces were a bit too mature for the look I was going for, so I returned to Samantha's room and found a cute thick silver choker with a heart in the middle. It reminded me of my first freshman girlfriend. I tightened it around my neck and clasped it together on the back. In no time my neck slimmed further, and I tested out my new voice. It was quite high pitched, which is always found sexy. At the same time, I felt relief knowing this was my last time doing this; I felt like a pansy. But I could tell it was turning me on too, as I felt a wet stickiness dripping out of my open panties. Getting annoyed by the long dark hair constantly getting in my face, I went through Samantha's dresser and found a hot pink headband with a bow attached. I didn't care for the bow but at least the headband kept the hair out of my face so I could watch this hot chick, me, masturbating. I was about to lay down on Samantha's bed and begin masturbating but as I reached towards my new pussy, I realized my hands still didn't look that feminine... I knew I'd seen something in Eliza's room that would help. A-ha. I had it. I tottered my way over to Eliza's room, still not confident walking in heels. In her vanity drawer was rows upon rows of false nails. They all looked sexy to me so I just grabbed a box and a tube of glue. I hadn't tried these yet but hey it probably works like everything else. I dabbed a drop of glue on each of the nails and applied them to my nails. I'd learned from prior girlfriends that these were called French nails with square tips. These ones specifically somewhat reminded me of pornstars. They were extremely square, long, had a pink nail bed, and white tips. They seemed like they'd make it hard to get things done but hey they looked sexy and that's all that mattered right now. Within seconds of the glued fake nails being laid onto my nails, the tingling began and I observed with amazement as they seemed to melt into my nail bed. Within a minute, there was no evidence that these were fake nails, they looked to be growing directly out of my fingers as if they were my own nails. Amazing. Although I'm not sure anyone would buy that long white square tip French nails were natural.... I was a bit worried about how I'd remove them, but figured the bottle of nail polish remover in the drawer would do the trick. I looked myself up head to toe in the mirror. Holy shit. I had created the hottest creature I'd ever seen. Seriously. Again, I felt a liquid oozing down my upper leg, and recognized it must be coming from my pussy. Well I definitely was going to go out with a bang... I found some sex toys on Eliza's dresser, stumbled my way back to Samantha's room, and laid on the bed. I took a dildo and slowly tried working it into my vagina, but it was too thick; it felt like it was going to tear me open. Next, I tried a vibrator on the clit. Holy hell now that was successful. I orgasmed almost instantly. I decided I'd try to vibrate my clit while fingering my g spot. Not only did the tight corset make this challenging, but I found it painful trying to get this wide square nail tops deep inside my vagina. Ugh. Women and choosing looks over convenience. I began massaging my clit while rubbing my breasts and was about to moan on ecstasy when I heard voices. I froze and listened. Two voices. Males. Coming from the backyard near Samantha's window. I couldn't make out what they were saying but they were getting closer. My heart was racing. Here I was, a dude, dressed up like a chick. Not just a chick, but a godamn school girl. I CAN NOT get caught like this. I didn't know what to do. I slowly and quietly rolled off and behind the bed, hoping they were just meter readers and would go away. I wasn't so lucky. Moments later I heard the back door open and one of the males exclaimed: "What a dumb old bitch for leaving the door unlocked. Makes our lives easier huh?" the other male chuckled. Holy shit had I forgotten to lock the back door when I came in? Shit shit shit. What do they want? Are they burglars? My question was shortly answered. Within no time I could hear them moving through the house pulling TVs off the wall, throwing silverware into bags etc. Then the words I was hoping not to hear. "Let's hit the bedrooms next," one of the burglars advised. "Shiiiiit," I almost said out loud. I had to hide. But there was nowhere TO hide. Not under the bed, not in the closet. I was screwed. I heard them move toward Eliza's room and knew I had time, and only one option. I moved toward the window, as quietly as possible. Luckily, it's a lot easier to movie quietly when you're 5'4" and probably all of 125 lbs. I unlocked and slowly lifted the window, glad that Eliza's house was a ranch style and I wouldn't have to drop down from a 2nd story. I swung my thin legs over the windowsill and quietly tumbled to the garden outside the window. As I passed through the window a swift breeze rushed over me, which caused shivers down my spine. I could have sworn a soft voice whispered in the breeze, but I figured it was my fear playing tricks on me. Luckily there were shrubs here to hide behind. I pulled the window shut so they wouldn't know anyone had been there. I didn't realize the windows had an automated locking mechanism when they close, and grew concerned when I heard it latch shut. But hey maybe they'll leave the back door open, I thought. The greater priority was making sure they didn't find me. The next 15 minutes were agonizing, sitting in the mulch, in a school girl outfit, tall high heels, and a tight corset. I thought about starting to take clothing off but was too worried about making noise. Not to mention I was more or less paralyzed with fear. As my normal athletic male self, I could probably take these guys. But here I was as a tiny scrawny chick with no muscle to speak of. I had to stay quiet. Finally, they finished rummaging through everything, that or they were in a rush so as not to get caught. I heard them leave the back door and run around the side of the house, then heard two vehicles start up, and leave. I waited another 5 minutes just to be safe, then discretely climbed out from behind the shrub and made my way to the back door. My fears were realized. They'd locked the door behind them. I peeked inside and my stomach dropped further. My wallet keys and phone were gone from the entry table. That second car that drove off must have been mine. I began panicking. I was stuck outside the house. All the doors and windows were heavily secured. There was no way my scrawny frame was going to be able to force any of them open either. Even worse, was that my clothes were stuck INSIDE. I needed to get MY clothes. I don't want anyone seeing be dressed like a pansy. FUCK. I spent close to an hour hiding on the back porch trying to figure out a game plan. Finally, I came up with a resolution: it's better to walk home naked than dressed as a fucking girl. So, I began disrobing. I'd come back to put the clothes away after I called Eliza to inquire about another key. First the heels came off, then the stockings, skirt, and corset (which was incredibly hard to remove with long square nails). Strangely enough, my body wasn't readjusting with each removal, as I'd grown accustomed to. My frame was still short and lean. My legs still long and slender, etc. Maybe the whole outfit has to be gone I thought hopefully. I removed the blouse. Nothing. The choker; nope, neck still slim and voice super high pitched. The hoop earrings. I felt my earlobes and noticed the holes hadn't closed. The hoop earrings also hadn't reverted back to clip-ons. Something was wrong. At this point all I had on was the bra and crotchless panties. Here goes nothing. I slipped the panties off and watched, waiting for my vagina to disappear and turn back into my cock and balls. I'd never missed my cock and balls so much in my life. But nothing happened. My heart beat faster. What the hell is happening. I slowly undid my bra and pulled it off, my large perky tits bouncing down and out as they were released from their restraint. Again, watching and waiting for reversion. But nothing. I was now standing on Eliza's back patio, naked, as a seemingly skinny busty teenager girl with long dark hair and a headband. I wanted to scream but recognized drawing attention to myself would make things worse. I'd be lying if I said that at this point, I didn't began trying to kick in the door and break windows to get in. But I was too weak to break the door, and the windows were apparently reinforced and unbreakable. There was no way to get back in. I needed a new plan. There was no good way of getting out of this situation. I realized I needed to get home first and then I could game plan better. But walking naked as a young attractive woman was clearly not an option so I made the hard choice to get dressed again. Maybe people would just see a school girl walking home and think nothing of it. I slipped on the blouse, skirt, and panties, and bundled the rest up hoping to figure out what to do with them later. No way in hell I'm wearing these heels home; I'd look like a slut. Just as I was about to start my journey home, I caught a glance of my reflection in the mirror. With just the blouse and skirt I just looked like a hot chick. Not a school girl. Not to mention that without the bra, my nipples were rubbing against the blouse causing them to point out obviously, and my breasts heaved up and down when I walked. Ugh. I quickly slipped the bra back on, which of course pushed my breasts way up. But at least they were covered and would stay in place for the most part. I slipped the stockings on and began my journey. It was mostly a walk-through a residential area, with about 10minutes of walking through an urban area. Those 10minutes afforded me the opportunity to appreciate what women talk about when they refer to sexual harassment. To be fair, I did appear to be an extremely attractive 18-year-old girl with a huge rack and tight body. But I wasn't prepared for the open gawking and even occasional comments from men, especially when I passed a construction site. It was demeaning, especially since I was a man myself. I was humiliated by the time I got home. My feet were sore as the stockings had worn through on the soles. But I'd made it. I grabbed my hidden door key to my apartment, went inside and collapsed on my bed, not even bothering to change. I was too exhausted. I woke up sore in other places the next day; having slept for the first time with breasts, I hadn't realized you can't sleep in certain positions without causing back pain. I agonizingly peeled off each article of clothing while fussing in my high-pitched voice the entire time. It was incredibly difficult to do things with these nails, and at this point, I could find no way of removing them. I even tried cutting them, but either due to my weak forearms, or the nails being extremely strong, I couldn't even cut through them with scissors. I lay down in bed naked and depressed, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do. I spent the entire next day brainstorming how I would get myself out of this mess. Going out in public was a nonstarter. No way in hell would anyone be seeing me like this. I had to figure out a way to get back into the house; maybe the transformation can only happen there? Or maybe I fess up to Eliza? Surely, she knows what the key is to all this. In the meantime, I couldn't report my car as stolen; the police wouldn't recognize me as the owner. I did call in to my landscaping boss and pretended to be my own girlfriend, letting my boss know that "I" was sick and wouldn't be in for a while. I considered going out for groceries but had way too much anxiety about going out into public as a girl. I felt like a faggot, if I'm being honest, even though inside I knew I was a guy, and only attracted to guys. I had scrubbed off all the makeup, but it didn't matter. My lashes were as long and curled as they had grown when I applied the mascara, my eyes wide/large like a Disney character, my facial features slender and feminine. Even the eye drops hadn't worn off. My eyes were still as crystal blue as the other day. My hair was starting to get oily and tangled though. I knew I'd need to deal with that if I ever decided to go outside. I had considered cutting it but figured it's easier to "hide" as a girl, if I was forced to be one, if I had long hair. I didn't want to be seen as some sort of transvestite.It's not like there was any way to hide my other features, like my enormous tits... I was on the verge of calling Eliza and asking for help, several times, but couldn't work up the nerve. Luckily (or maybe not), she called me. I thought about not answering, but ultimately decided it was worth the risk. "Hello this is Madeline speaking," I squeaked into the phone, coming up with the name on the spot. "Oh... Hi, maybe I have the wrong number, I'm trying to reach Bradley." Eliza sounded confused. "Ah yes this is Bradley's girlfriend!" I tried to sound as girly as possible, not that it was hard with this ridiculous voice. "He's at work right now may I take a message?" "Oh, I understand. Not a problem... Could you just let him know I'll be extending my trip a few more months? I know it's a bit of an inconvenience, but let him know I'll pay him double his normal rate when I get back. Would you be a dear and let him know?" Eliza inquired. Inside I was grumbling in frustration. How will I get answers having to wait even longer? And what about money? I can't work my normal job anymore... Not like this. Double pay is great but she won't give that to me until she arrives back. Ughhhh... "Sure, not a problem, will do!" I replied, trying to sound chipper. "Byeeeee." I mostly lived paycheck to paycheck so now without income from landscaping I was screwed. I needed rent money.... That means, getting a job, like this. Fuck. I finally decided I needed to venture out into the world to get basic necessities. Food, toilet paper, etc. I grabbed a t-shirt which fit way too large on my small form, and dug through my closet for old sweatpants from high school, back before my growth spurt. They were still loose and baggy but at least I could tie them and they'd stay up. Plus, baggy clothes could hide my round ass and large breasts. I looked in the mirror and wasn't impressed. Looking back at me was what appeared to be an attractive young woman, but dressed frumpy. I watched an online video to see how to do a ponytail, which I ultimately was able to figure out. That helped my look a little bit, but I recognized that I needed new clothes if I was going to deal with this issue for any length of time. Thus, began my first full day in public as a woman. I felt nauseated knowing that I had a fucking vagina and breasts when I was supposed to be a macho guy with a dick. I felt demasculinized. Which I suppose I was. Since I was resorted to wearing either the 5-inch Mary Jane heels that fit, or my male self's flip flops that were 5 sizes too large, my first stop was a shoe store. I grabbed the cheapest pair of flats I could find. Not the most comfortable, but better than nothing. Next was the discount female apparel store. I couldn't afford to spend a lot and really just needed something to last me until I could transition back to my male self. I thought about what I'd need for everyday life temporarily, and grabbed some comfortable workout pants, some female t- shirts, panties, pajamas, and recognized it'd be a good idea to get a couple bras so I wouldn't be bouncing all over the place. Again, if I was going to be in the body of a female, I felt it important to dress the part so I didn't look like a tranny. I stopped into a store that sold hair accessories and got some hair ties, replacing the rubber band I'd used all morning. At several of my stops, I annoyingly got compliments on my nails, from the female cashiers. Ugh, don't remind me. I brought everything home, via public transit of course (which for the record SUCKS if you're an attractive woman), and put it all away. I dressed into the comfortable pajamas I'd bought and passed out on my bed. The next morning, I rolled out of bed and gulped in fear when I looked back at the bed. There was a pool of blood in the middle of the bed. What the hell happened? Did I stab myself in my sleep? Panicking I tried to figure out where it came from. I analyzed my body and... Shit. There were blood stains on my upper thighs. What the hell happened? I ran to the bathroom to rinse off the blood and search for the wound. Once the blood was rinsed off my inner thighs, I could tell it had originated from my small pussy. I carefully slipped a finger in to feel for a wound or whatever else had caused this. No obvious source of pain... But when I pulled my finger out it was covered in blood. I was freaking out. Knowing I didn't have money for a doctor, I rinsed off my hand, ran to the computer and put into the search engine "blood coming out of vagina." My heart dropped when the results showed up. There were a few results that were concerning but they were mostly accompanied with either trauma, or ongoing pain. The most common result however, was related to one word: "menstruation." I'll be honest, when the realization hit me that I was menstruating, I immediately got sick, ran to the toilet and threw up. Here I was, a guy in his early 20s, stuck in a fucking chick's body and now on my period. This is fucking shit. Considering the blood continued to ooze out, now onto my desk chair, I spent the next couple hours studying periods. I was clueless, at least until now. Luckily sometimes the girls I'd had over occasionally left toiletries at my place, and I rummaged through the medicine cabinet until I found it. A long thin tampon. I watched a video online to learn how to use it. As instructed, I slid the tampon up inside my tight vagina, and rolled my eyes at the string sticking out the bottom. I was nauseous and humiliated. I'll be honest, I cried myself to sleep that night. At this point it seemed the only male part of me was my mind. The next day I had a new goal. Figure out a way to make money. How do women with no experience get a job? I had no clue. I wasn't smart, so it seemed whatever it was would be shitty. But I needed something or else I'd be kicked to the curb. I started looking at job boards and saw a job for a secretary. Boring, but at least it says it's $15/hour. Better than nothing. Again, I had to go shopping, this time for the interview I'd secured. Being an executive position, this meant I had to buy makeup, a pencil skirt, a conservative top, and heels. After these purchases, my bank account was nearly bone-dry. I needed to land this job! Just something to tide me over until Eliza returned. Again, I watched online videos to get makeup tips and instructions on how to do an updo with my hair. I didn't have enough money for more jewelry, so I put in the large silver hoop earrings I'd brought from Eliza's, to give my face some framing (something I'd learned from the internet). Hey, whatever it takes to get the job. I put on a conservative bra, blouse, skirt and 3inch black pumps. Nothing over the top or too sexy. Unfortunately, my current body was sexy in and of itself that it was hard to hide no matter what I wore. The long French nails didn't help either. I was relieved to find out that the interviewer was a guy. Then disgusted with myself when I realized that I'd been happy that a man would hopefully check me out and want to hire me based on my attractiveness. Yuck. He did seem interested in that capacity too and after some basic interview questions and some flirting (gag), we hit a road bump. He asked for my ID to start the paperwork. I froze, realizing I should have anticipatedthis, but hadn't. "I.... Don't... Have one..." I quivered. Realizing I probably just screwed myself. "Not with you? Or not at all?" he inquired curiously. "Not at all," I said, with a sad tone to my voice. He caught onto that. "Hmm. Unfortunately, we are not allowed, by federal law, to hire undocumented individuals. I'm sorry but my hands are tied," he advised. My heart pounded. I'd used up all my money preparing for this. I'm screwed now. He must have seen my crystal blue eyes start to well up with tears because he followed up. "Listen if you're really serious about getting a job, and you're open to less conventional positions I can probably refer you to a couple places." I didn't like the sound of that, but I was desperate. He wrote down some information on a slip of paper and slid it over to me. "Sorry I can't do more, you seem like a sweet girl." I nodded, thanked him, and left. I returned home and evaluated my situation. There was approximately 3 months left until Eliza returned. My rent was now already past due, and it wasn't the first time, so I knew my landlord wouldn't give me any breaks. Not to mention he was a scuzzy guy and I had no interest in seeing him while I looked like this. I knew for certain he'd try to get handsy, or even worse, suggest a "trade." He was that kind of guy. So that was it. I had to survive for 3 months. No way a girl looking like me would survive on the streets for that long. I was sick just thinking about what could happen to me, especially knowing that my normal male self could have defended himself easily. But not this scrawny young girl. At least I wasn't eating a ton of food, which kept expenses low. Apparently, the waist transformation had also shrunk my stomach, because I could hardly fit any food in me. Which unfortunately kept me quite skinny and weak. I realized I really had no choice. I grabbed the piece of paper the interviewer had given me and stared at it for an hour. I knew under the table jobs were hit or miss. What was I getting myself into? But what other choice did I have? On the paper was an address. I'd hoped it was a phone number so I could at least get some background info. But I wasn't so lucky. I decided I'd start fresh tomorrow, and crawled into bed with my mind and heart both racing, wondering what was to come. The following morning, uncertain of what awaited me at the address, I decided to dress conservatively. No pencil skirt or tall heels, but I also needed to make a good impression. I dug through my closet of "stashed girlfriend items" and found a yellow floral sundress. Not too low cut, and not too revealing. I slid it on over my head and it fluttered down my body. There was really no way of hiding my slender yet busty body but at least this didn't flaunt it. I slid my feet into some sandals, and put my long hair into a top ponytail. I groaned when I looked in the mirror and saw how flirty / young I looked, but I didn't really have much say in the matter. This was me, at least for now. I didn't even have to put on makeup; my lashes were still naturally long and curled up, my cheeks and lips rosy, and the bright blue eyes sparkled as always. It turned me on to see such a sexy girl in front of me, but also nauseous knowing it WAS me. Luckily the period had stopped this morning so I didn't have to worry about fucking blood flowing out of my pussy... Sheesh. I took the bus to the closest stop I could get to the address on the paper. I'd slowly learned to avoid eye contact with strangers, growing sick of people smiling at me. I'd rather go back to being a guy, where no one even fucking notices you. Finally, after a half mile walk, I was there. It was an old strip mall with a nail salon, pizza shop, pharmacy and a few other typical stores. There was also a small travel agency, which had the number of the address from my piece of paper, on the door. I took a deep breath, and entered. A small chime sounded as the door closed behind me. It was nothing special. In fact, it seemed a bit dreary for a travel agency... A young blonde attractive receptionist motioned me over. "How may we help you?" she asked. A bit too bubbly for my liking. But cute. I would've hit on her, if I still had my dick.... "I'm good. My name is... Madeline (I guess I was sticking with that one for now). I was told to come here for a possible job?" I replied. The receptionist looked me up and down. Apparently, this wasn't uncommon, because she agreeably nodded and asked me to take a seat. Someone would be with me shortly. 5minutes later a short dark haired somewhat balding man emerged from a hallway in the back, and approached me. "Madeline, is it?" he inquired. "Yes sir," I replied, still not knowing what to expect. "Follow me," he instructed. He led me to the back of the office suite, to a hallway that turned to the right and led seemingly into the adjacent unit, which I recalled now had been unmarked outside. Interesting, I thought. I was suddenly on guard, recognizing this was starting to get a bit sketchy. We reached a small office to the left, entered, and the man closed the door, and motioned me to take a seat in front of a desk, which I now realized was his. The man, still not saying anything else, shuffled around some papers, nodding and grunting as he read some of them. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he collected the papers, cleared his throat and finally addressed me. "We get referrals for employees all the time, but I'll be honest, not everyone is cut out for the jobs we offer," his Italian accent was quite clear. I was starting to get a better idea of what his line of work was... "With that said, if you're up for it, we do allow candidates to choose from the openings we do have; whatever fits your experience and needs. Of course, different positions do pay more than others, so take that into account," he advised. I nodded and assured him I definitely needed SOMETHING even if it didn't pay a ton. Anything was better than nothing, or so I thought. He slid the stack of papers, which I realized were the jobs currently available, for me to look at and consider. "Is there any chance I can take these and think about them?" I asked. "Absolutely not. Due to the nature of our... business... We keep everything under wraps. In fact, any job you sign onto, will require an ironclad nondisclosure to be signed. Aside from some of the best lawyers in the country, we have other... methods... Of making sure our clients and business interests are protected. But I'm sure you'd be a good girl and not do anything silly." I still cringed anytime someone called me a girl. So that was that... I would have to sit here and make a decision now. Sigh. I began sifting through the list and the nausea returned when I read the position titles. Dancer - club Dancer - private parties Escort - domestic Escort - international Masseuse Promotional Model Casino dealer Server I wanted to gag even considering having to do most of these jobs. Casino dealer sounded interesting but I'd never done it before; not to mention I had no idea how I'd deal cards with these ridiculous nails. The only one that seemed even semi reasonable was "server." I'd done a little serving at the local pub and grill, back when I was in college, to get extra party money (my parents may have paid my tuition and boarding, but they were stingy on extra stuff). It was easy enough work, and if I could do it without needing ID, that'd be great. I thought about letting him know I was only available for a couple months and then I'd be out, but he didn't seem like he'd be receptive to that idea. I figured I could easily disappear once Eliza got back and I could get rid of this ridiculous girl body.Not like they?d be able to find me once I was a dude again. I pointed to the server position, and he nodded. "This one should suit you well, although to be fair, you'd do well in these others too, which pay substantially more... but if you want this one, we'll move forward with it." I shuddered at the fact that he'd considered me a good fit to be an escort or "dancer." Yuck. I mean I was technically in my early 20s, and a guy, but to other people, I felt I looked like a teenage girl barely out of high school. I suppose the fact that I had big tits and sexy nails and lashes didn't help. Either way... Dancing (which I assumed was code for stripping)... Gross. He pulled out an application and slid it over to me. I picked up the pen and began filling it out; still finding it challenging to write with these ridiculous nails. I was advised the hourly rate would be $16/hour plus tips, and that everything was paid under the table, so no tax. Nice. That should get me through the next couple months easily. He advised to report for my first day on Friday, and to not worry about a uniform; they provide everything there. Just bring myself and some black heels. Taller the better, for tips, he suggested. Ugh. I was led to another room where a lady took my body measurements to fit for the uniform. And of course, she complimented me on my amazingly fit and slender figure. Said she wished she'd had a body like that when she was my age. That guy's must be fighting for me left and right. Gross. The interviewer gave me an address and a time, and escorted me out the door. I could have sworn his hand brushed my ass, but it was easier to pretend I'd imagined it. I returned home. I had 3 days until my first day of work. I spent much of it practicing walking in heels, which I'd avoided as much as possible since this all happened to me. Just need to make it through these next couple months. That's it. I couldn't afford buying new shoes so I used the 5-inch Mary Jane style shoes that I'd taken from Eliza?s. At least they were a perfect mold for my now small feet. I practiced some of my old server lines, in the mirror. "Good evening, my name is Brad... Madeline... Maddie? I'll be your server this evening." Just like riding a bike, I guess... It was still weird seeing a young sexy girl speaking in the mirror when I spoke, and the ridiculously high-pitched voice that came out of my mouth. Friday came, and it was time to get ready to go. Wanting to be gawked at as little as possible on the way there, I wore a loose workout shirt and yoga pants. A messy bun, which I'd practiced doing using online videos, was good enough for now. The address led me to a bar downtown. The Fire Cracker. I entered and let the hostess know I was there for my first day of work. She took my name, pulled out a list and shook her head. Then she reached down under the hostess desk and retrieved another list. This time she pointed to a name (mine apparently) and nodded. "You're downstairs. You need to go all the way to the back, take the hallway to the left and find the stairs marked staff only," she advised. Downstairs? Is there a basement to this bar? I was perplexed, but followed instructions. I found the stairs, as well as another stairwell that was unmarked. A couple middle aged men went down those stairs. As instructed, I went down the stairs marked staff only. It led to a doorway with a large black male who I assumed was a bouncer. "Hi I'm Maddie; here for my first day." This must be a private club or something I thought. Which is usually good for tips...? He nodded and motioned me through the doorway, toward another door labeled "changing room." I entered the room and dropped the bag I'd been carrying my heels and wallet in. There were mirrored vanities lining the wall and next to each vanity was a nameplate, with a "uniform" hanging below it. It was WHAT the uniform was that make me start panicking. A skimpy little cocktail server outfit. Tight. Small. Low cut. Lace. Holy shit. I wasn't being hired to be a restaurant server. I was being hired as a cocktail server/waitress. I felt my face go pale and began backing out of the room. No way I'm letting anyone see me dressed like that. Just as I backed up, I bumped into someone and yelped. "Woah there little one. I didn't mean to startle you." I turned around to see where the voice was coming from and noticed I was looking directly into the chest of a large man wearing a suit. He towered over my small 5'4" frame. I looked up. "I'm sorry, I think there's been a mistake, I was supposed to be hired as a server," I told him. "Hmm let me check the list..." He pulled out a piece of paper from his suit pocket. "Name?" "Maddie, I mean... Madeline," I replied in a quivering voice. Ugh I hated being a wimpy girl. He checked over the list and finally replied, "Ah-ha! There you are. Nope you're in the right place, see?" He pointed over to one of the vanities. More specifically to one of the nameplates. "Madeline" it said. "No... No, I can't do this," I said, looking for a way to get past his large frame blocking the door. "I'm sorry Hun, but if you're on this list, it means you signed the contract already. Once you're in, you're in. My name is Bruce. I'm the evening talent manager. Don't worry we take good care of the girls. And the pay is second to none. You'll be fine. Go ahead and get dressed, we need you out there. It's a busy night." I felt sick to my stomach. What had I gotten myself into? Months ago, I was a normal, somewhat attractive guy who wanted nothing other than to have a good time, bang chicks, and sure, maybe masturbate into chicks? clothes here and there. Now I looked like a girl that OTHER guys want to bang. There were no other exits. And I knew pissing off the mob was never wise. So, I made the hardest decision I'd never thought I would need to make. I went over to "my" vanity, and started getting ready for my shift. It was true, I literally didn't need any clothing; they provided everything, even underwear (a small red thong that rode up my ass and made me feel like I had a constant wedgie; wonderful). There was no bra; apparently the dress had one built in. Full tan sheer stockings pulled all the way up further accentuated my long slender legs. I painstakingly pulled the dress on; it was skin-tight and put my ridiculous body on display. Tiny tiny waist but perfectly cute round ass, and large chest. Speaking of chest, my breasts were pushed way up and together, as the dress was cut so low that it barely covered my nipples. The built-in bra cups in the dress had huge pushup pads. I no longer looked like a 17- year-old high schooler, but more like a 20-year-old hooker, in my opinion. Just as I was finishing getting the dressed pulled into place, a lady in her seemingly 30s or 40s entered and advised she was the makeup and hair girl. She immediately went to work. Lipstick, eye shadow, mascara, etc. She told me she loved my eyelashes and that most girls wished theirs were that long, but almost always had to use fake lashes. Apparently, mine were longer than even some of the fake lashes they used. Great... She brushed my long hair into a side part and side swept bangs, gave the rest a ton of volume especially in the back, and applied a liberal amount of hairspray. After 30minutes or so, she was done. It was show time. I slipped on the 5inch heels I?d broughtand with my heart racing, was led to the "main floor" (just what they called it, it was still the basement). I was taken into a bar area separate from the customers, which is where I would pick up drinks to be taken out. I peeked past a curtain to see where the customers were, and to be honest, I was impressed. It had a speakeasy vibe to it, but it was a combination mini casino and lounge. Clearly not operating legally, which explained why they hired undocumented individuals like me... I received about an hour of instruction. Where to go, what to do, etc. I shadowed a couple of the other girls and groaned inside when I watched how they "teased" the customers when they took orders and delivered the beverages. Lots of intentional leaning over to put their cleavage on display or brushing their breast "accidentally" against a shoulder or face. I hated the idea of a guy leering at my body. I was a dude myself for fucks sake. But I was trapped now. I sucked it up, and went out there. The practice walking in heels had helped. So had watching videos online. I learned to walk one foot in front of the other, as if I was walking a tight rope. Apparently, that also made my butt cheeks rise up and down, alternately. Left then right then left then right. Unfortunately, I didn't learn that fact until later or else I wouldn't have done it. I had no interest in men checking out my ass as I walked. I took several orders and began to get the hang of things. I definitely wasn't going to flirt with a guy, so I just did my job. Took orders and brought drinks. That didn't stop them from flirting with me though. Maybe because I was "new." I noticed a lot of them entranced by my long nails. They would place a casino chip on the table for my tip, instead of my tray, so I would have to lean over and not only display my cleavage, but also have to pick it up off the table with my long sexy white square French nails. It was humiliating, although to be fair, the money was good. I had several hundred dollars by the end of the night, along with a pair of extremely sore feet and calves. The price to pay for high heels I learned. The next evening was "theme night," which I wasn't alerted to until I showed up. Each staff member was assigned a specific outfit chosen by the talent manager, based on their "look." One of the stockier German girls had a beer wrench outfit, our redhead was given a skimpy little red riding hood costume, and... Oh... Oh for fucks sake. Hanging from my uniform hook was a cheerleader outfit. Give me a fucking break. I've never cheerleaded in my life. I went to high school as a guy! Sheesh. But it didn't matter. I needed the money and I didn't exactly feel they'd let me leave anyways. So, I begrudgingly began putting on the uniform. The skirt was tiny, and of course, they made me wear the tiny red thong again. The top was small as well, only going down to slightly above my belly button, putting my tiny waist on FULL display. Of course, my breasts were pushed up and together as always. Across the front of the top was the word VARSITY. Sigh. Hair and makeup were done again. This time the makeup was a bit more subtle. Very juvenile. Like, well, of course, like a high school cheerleader. My hair was pulled into two long pigtails, which were then curled into loose curls that bounced with every movement. Two large pearl earrings were inserted into my earlobes. Finally, I was provided with a pair of shoes that looked somewhat like white athletic sneakers, except they were wedge-style. Wedge sneakers I called them. Easier to walk in than heels but still, annoyingly girly. I felt even more dirty every time I was forced to bend over for a tip, this time. I had no doubt that anyone at the table behind me could see my ass on display any time I bent over, as the skirt was that short. At least so far no one had touched me yet, short of grazing my manicured hand when I reached for a tip. The whole evening was dehumanizing, but again, by the end of the night I had hundreds of my dollars to take home. It was nice, but also not worth it. This was just a means to an end, and I wanted to get my body back as quick as possible. I won't speak too much about the next couple months, as it was mostly the same. Dressed like a hooker (in my opinion) while serving drinks to gambling assholes that liked to leer and occasionally fondle (no I don't want to talk about it) young women. It was a nightmare, but it allowed me to pay rent, and put me one step closer to getting back to Eliza?s house, and my body. At this point I didn't care if Eliza fired me. I just wanted to get back into the house, strip naked, and be reverted back to my male body. Fuck, I'd even do it in front of her if I had to. A week or two before Eliza was scheduled to return, I figured it wise to call and let her know about the break in. I'd say that it just happened and I in my panic of finding it, I'd locked the key inside and couldn't get back in. That maybe I could meet her at the house when she got back. This time I'd say that "Bradley" was sick and couldn't talk but I was relaying the message. I called her mobile phone, and she answered quickly. "Bradley?" she asked. "Sorry ma'am this is Maddie again. Bradley came down with a throat infection and is resting right now but he wanted to let you know of an incident at your house." My heart started racing, wondering how she would respond. "Oh yes, I've discovered that. I actually arrived a couple weeks early. I've been here a few days now. It seems someone broke in and made off with some property. Let him know he can come by when he's feeling better and we can go over what may have been taken." She didn't seem to be blaming me, er Bradley. "Oh sure, I will let him know. Thank you." We hung up. Ugh she wasn't supposed to get home this early. Now what. Maybe this gave me an opportunity though. If she's home... That means I can possibly sneak in, get back to my old self, and sneak back out. Then I can resolve the break in (which was not even a priority to me). I just needed to get out of this pansy body. So, the plan was set. I had enough money now to rent a car, so I did. A cheap one, but it allowed me to watch her house to see when she came and went, and if she locked the door, etc. Finally, the perfect situation arose. She left out the front door around lunch time, and this time, she didn't turn around to lock the door. I squealed in glee. After months of being a wimpy scrawny girl, with periods and cramps, and being leered at and catcalled... I could finally go back to being the real me. I waited until her car disappeared down the street and quickly exited my vehicle. I was wearing my male clothes, so I had something to leave in, even though they were incredibly baggy. I had my hair pulled up and under a baseball cap. I had Samantha's and Eliza?s clothing; the pieces that had caused my transformation in the first place, in a bag under my arm, so I could return them, hopefully unnoticed. I quickly snuck through the door and surveyed the house. No sign of anyone home. Most of the mess from the break in was already cleaned up. I rushed to Eliza?s bedroom and saw it was closed. And locked. To my disappointment it was locked much more securely. I tried and tried to get it open but couldn't. Forcing it open wasn't an option since I was still a weak girl... Well what the hell. Let's get back to my male self and maybe I can force it open. I stripped naked, expecting that being naked inside the house like so many times before, would revert these changes and I'd be back to normal. But nothing. No tingling sensation. No nothing. Just a small busty naked girl standing in a hallway. Maybe I need to wear the clothing again? I tried putting the bra on and off. Still nothing. Maybe if I... *SLAM That was the door. SHIT. I quietly peeked around the corner, still naked. It was Eliza. She went to the kitchen. Why was she home so soon? I'd expected she was going to get lunch somewhere. But here she was. Knowing it was only a matter of time before she found me, I had a decision to make. Put on the baggy "male" clothes, or the skimpy school girl outfit I?d brought back (of course letting her see me naked was out of the question). She'd obviously recognize Samantha's school girl outfit, so baggy boy clothes it was. I quietly put them on, and stuffed the other clothing and shoes behind a plant in the hallway. I?d deal with them later. I needed to get out and regroup. I took a deep breath, peaked around the corner, and when I saw a clear line to the door, quietly started moving that way. At almost the same time, Eliza exited the kitchen and stopped. We stared at each other for a good several seconds until she processed that someone was in her house. "Who are you and why are you here??" I could tell she wanted to yell. Time to think on my feet.... "Hi, sorry to startle you. My name is Maddie, we spoke on the phone. I'm Bradley's girlfriend. I helped him house sit a couple times and figured I'd come over to help you clean up from the burglary." Not bad, not bad. She seemed to at least partially buy it. "Well... Thank you. But please knock next time and wait for me to let you in. After what happened, it's unnerving to have people in my house without me knowing." I could tell she was intrigued by the clothes I was wearing. They weren't exactly flattering. But she didn't inquire, perhaps being polite. I explained Bradley was still sick so I was here to help in his place. We talked a bit more in the living room and finally after some small talk I made a grave mistake and addressed something she'd been happy to avoid. "Heh sorry I look like a mess. I've spent so much time taking care of Bradley that all my clothes at his place were dirty, so I just grabbed some of his." I smiled, not realizing I had just initiated my downfall. "Oh, I wasn't going to say anything but here, I have more clothes than I can count. I'll give you some and don't even worry about paying me back." she offered. "Oh no, that's not necessary at all!" I realized now that if done a poor job hiding the clothes when I'd stuffed them behind the plant in a hurry. "Please, I insist, sit right there I'll be right back." She walked off, her high heels clacking against the hardwood floor. I thought about making a run for it, but was frozen in place. Panic was setting in again. I heard her heels clack clack clack down the hall, then pause for an uncomfortable amount of time. It was probably just a few seconds but it felt like ages. Then the clack clack clack continued into her bedroom. I started getting restless as she took longer and longer. What was taking her so long? It'd been minutes now. Surely it didn't take that long to grab a pair of shorts and a shirt... I was just about scared enough to run out when I heard the clack clack of her heels returning. She had a cute sundress, about my (current) size. But it was a thin fabric, or so she said, and handed me a bra. She'd correctly assumed I didn't have one on under my baggy clothes. I felt awkward wearing her bra... "Um I think the dress will be fine. Thank you," I uttered. "No no, nonsense go ahead and try the bra on, I think you'll like it," she insisted. "Right here?" I asked, uncomfortable changing in front of her. "Right here," she said. Something wasn't right. But I was stuck. I couldn't run now. So, I'll play her game, I thought. I pulled off my baggy shirt revealing my skinny frame and large 36DD breasts. It didn't seem to faze her. I grabbed the bra and glanced at the tag; 38F. "Oh, this one is too big for me. Do you have a smaller one?" maybe I could escape once she leaves to go get it. No such luck. "Oh, it'll fit fine don't worry," she advised. I grumbled under my breath and pulled the straps of the bra onto my shoulders and clasped the bra in the back. I'd completely forgotten what would happen. Immediately the bra clung to my skin and the familiar tingling began again. My heart began racing when I realized what was about to happen again. I looked down in horror as my already large breasts began to fill the void in the larger bra. They pushed out further and further, and became heavier and heavier, until every centimeter of the bra was filled with my new soft enormous melons. They looked ridiculous on my tiny frame. It took everything in my power not to topple over forwards. They were so heavy... I was too shocked to speak. "I see you've been busy in my room Bradley," she said. Shit. Shit. I still couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. "That's fine, you don't need to say anything. I'll do the talking from here on." ?I thought I could have faith you wouldn't betray my trust but you did. And I understand now why you snuck back in. Something happened and you got stuck like this didn't you? You thought you could find a way to get back to normal?" I sheepishly nodded, knowing I was caught. At the same time, my back was hurting from these new huge tits. She sighed. ?Explain to me what happened and I'll try to explain," she assured me. I started from the beginning, about how I was curious and tried on some clothes; that they morphed my body in various ways. I pretended that I'd only done it a couple times but it seemed she didn't believe me. I then described the events of the burglary. How I was dressed in the clothing, and scared for my life, snuck out the window. "Ah-ha. That's it then," she said. "What?" I asked. "Tell me, do you remember anything strange when you went out the window?" "No not really.... Wait..." I remembered now. "There was a weird breeze that made me tingly and shiver." "Yep, that's it. As you've found, I've crafted many clothing items that can alter someone's appearance. It's still a work in progress. They're somehow still linked to the house. Any time I wear a piece outside, the change becomes permanent. So, I normally don't, unless it's something I feel keeps me from aging too much." I felt sick when I heard the word permanent. Like my life was being drained from me. "Please tell me you're joking. How do I get my body back? I'm not a fucking girl!" My high-pitched voice squeezing those words didn't help my case. "Not at all. When you went out the window, all the changes present on your body at the time, became your new permanent body. Let me show you. Take your bra off." I'd started to forget about my enormous new tits. I gladly pulled the bra off quickly. The giant beasts fell out with the pull of gravity, almost pulling me forward with them. Within moments they began shrinking. I was starting to get excited, seeing the shrinking, until they stopped. Right at the same 36DD size. "See? This is you now. I'm still fine tuning everything but so far it seems one thing is certain; permanent is permanent." I didn?t know what to say. I wanted to be a guy again. I hated being a girl. I told her how much I hated periods and menstruating, how much I hated gross guys, and constantly being looked at and judged. How these fucking nails made it impossible to type or do small tasks. How my huge tits were disproportional to my body and I kept knocking stuff over with them. But to no avail. Then I realized my cash cow was probably gone too. Would I have to continue working as a server? Or worse? Just to make ends meet? Getting a real job was still out of the question since I had no identity, no paper trail. Nothing. She provided a solution before I could think of anything else. "I have an idea. Like I said, I still need to work out a few kinks on the invention. I'll let you live with me in Samantha's old room, which you've already acquainted yourself with, if you will test new items and maybe even new processes. You'll need to accept your new life though. As much as you don?t like it, you're a girl now. That's not changing. How you deal with it, is up to you though. I can fully provide for you, like you're my daughter, or you can go back home and do whatever else you've been doing the last few months." It was clear she knew I'd had a rough several months on my own as a young woman. I felt I didn't have any other option. Over the next few days, all my relevant property was moved into Samantha's room, and I became Eliza's "adopted daughter." Since I looked like a teenager that had gone through puberty with a vengeance, I was forced to enroll in high school as a senior; never mind the fact I'd technically graduated 3 or so years ago... My age was chosen to be having just turned 18. "Legal for most things except alcohol," Eliza would say. Which fucking sucked because in reality I was already 21 and could have bought all the alcohol I wanted as a guy. You'd think high school would be easier the second time around but like I said before, I was never very smart. So, I slowly became known as the quiet hot girl with the bimbo nails and lashes. And I couldn't even fucking do anything about it. I was constantly asked out by guys, which I found disgusting. I did finally develop a relationship with one of the cheerleader Co-captions. She was a closet bisexual and apparently intrigued by me. I finally had my first lesbian experience after homecoming. We started by making out, which progressed to fondling each other's breasts, and ultimately led to us in a 69-position eating each other out. It felt amazing yet my body felt it was lacking something that it needed in that situation. Like a void needing to be filled. We played around on a few other occasions but that sexual emptiness was always there. I had a feeling I knew what it was, and it made me sick. Eliza did indeed take care of me. All meals, clothing, everything was provided. Even a car (pink jeep. Ugh. But better than nothing). She really did treat me like her daughter. She seemed to be a better parent than mine ever were. In exchange though, I did have to allow her to experiment on me with her various new pieces. She never explained to me how it worked, but whatever she did, it was effective. Mostly bland modifications similar to one's I'd already experienced, but also some more extreme ones, like stockings that elongated legs so they were disproportionately long. Long long skinny legs. I'd always called girls like that "colts" like a baby horse with super long skinny legs. I also did have to model a few different makeup items including an extreme lipstick that made my lips so big and puffy I could barely talk. DSLs as I used to call the them when I was a guy trying to hit on girls with lip fillers. It wasn't too bad. She didn't often make me wear any experiments out in public. For clothing I mostly just wore store bought stuff. She did buy the most in style stuff for me. Which unfortunately in this day and age, was more revealing than I'd like. It didn't help that she was having me go to public school where there was no dress code. Plenty of crop tops, skirts, tight camis, etc. It was obvious that I was a major distraction in several classes. I'd slowly adapted to having a monthly period. It sucked, but I resigned myself to my fate. Now that I was in school surrounded by other people, I found myself with strange sexual desires just before my period started. Eliza said it was the hormones and completely normal. But it didn't feel normal. The sexual void I'd felt when I had lesbian encounters, was amplified intensely during this time. I began inadvertently glancing at guys in my class. Not even realizing. On one or two occasions I caught myself staring at their crotch! I felt sick when that happened. Every time was worse than the last. With every period, the desire grew stronger, like my body craved something I was depriving it of. I made the mistake of going to a house party shortly before my period started. I'd hoped to find a chick to hook up with. Lesbians were becoming more common these days so I had high hopes. I hadn't tracked my period so I was unaware where I was in my cycle. I had been drinking heavily all evening chatting with girls, playing beer pong etc. (apparently drunk enough to allow a few people to take shots off my huge tits). It seemed to be getting late so I went in a quest to find a chick to make out with and maybe go out to my car to continue the party there. Suddenly the sexual craving hit me like a load of bricks. It was almost debilitating. My body quivered and my vagina felt warm and moist. Like it was in heat. Who knows, maybe that's how you would describe this. Ask me any normal day and I still find the idea of any relations with a guy disgusting. So, I don't know what happened. It had to have been the alcohol. Maybe I thought it was a girl but was too drunk? Either way before I knew it, I was pressed up against one of lacrosse players I'd only spoken with on a few occasions (not surprisingly he had previously asked me out and I'd rejected him). I was making out with him furiously in the hall. There was a short blur and the next thing I knew, I was pushing him into a bedroom down the hall. I shut the door behind us, still making out with him. I pushed him hard onto the bed, or at least felt like I did; I wasn't exactly strong. I quickly grabbed at his pants, struggling to unbutton them with my long nails. He didn't mind assisting. Within seconds he'd unzipped and I pulled his pants to the ground. I crawled on top of him and continued making out while he pulled off my top. While I started kissing his neck, I heard him tear a wrapper and apply something to his penis. I didn't bother to look as I was too preoccupied. My body continued to feel like it needed something. It was missing something. As if by animal instinct, I reached down with my manicured hand and felt for what I knew was there somewhere. It didn't take long to find it. His cock was hard, and became even more so when he felt my French nails graze it. I grabbed a firm grip, completely forgetting that the idea of sexual activity with a guy was disgusting to me. My body was overriding my mind. I knew I needed that warm rod inside me. I placed it horizontal under my pussy and began rubbing back and forth on top of it. It felt good feeling the warm stiffness rubbing the lips of my pussy. Finally, my biological needs tool complete control. I was on autopilot now. I'm sure the alcohol didn't help. Everything was fuzzy, but I remember reaching down slowly, taking his penis in my hand and guiding it slowly to my small pink pussy. It makes me cringe now, but I remember whispering "careful, it's my first time, let's go slow." Which was true. I'd had sex dozens, maybe hundreds of times, as a guy. But this was the first time a dick would be entering my vagina. I remember him saying something like "sure babe," and him seeing a bit surprised that a girl with a body and nails like mine, had never had sex before. But it didn't faze him. I slowly eased myself down onto his cock. While most of this was seemed fuzzy, the next several minutes are imprinted vividly in my memory, unfortunately so, as I still feel nauseous thinking about having sex with a guy. But in the moment, my body knew what it wanted and was in full control. The tip of his penis began to slowly part the lips of my pussy. It slowly began sliding inside. It helped that I was dropping wet. I really was in heat. As the top pushed past the opening, it began to feel extremely tight. Like I was being stretched. I grimaced and he pulled back out. "No, it's okay, let's keep going," I assured him. He nodded and I sat up, straddling him as he lay on the bed. I took over control so I could go at my own pace. My huge tits hung in front of him and he looked memorized. I again guided the cock into my hole. This time I swallowed hard, and pushed past the painful tightness until I felt just a touch of relief. The head of the cock had pushed through the opening entirely and was now inside me. It still felt tight, but it was manageable now. I kept going, sitting further down, pushing the cock deeper inside. I massaged my clit with one hand while supporting myself with the other. With a big breath of relief, I pushed all the way down and gasped as the head of his cock pressed up against my G spot. There was still some pain due to the stretching but it was overwhelmed by the pleasure. I moaned and closed my eyes. My body was clearly being satisfied by what it had been calling for, for months now. Autopilot continued, as I began moving up and down, slowly at first, with his rod going in and out. I leaned forward, as the pleasure overwhelmed me. Now my breasts were swinging in front of his face as I rocked back and forth on his cock. He took the opportunity to grab one with his mouth and began sucking on my nipple, pulling it toward him with the suction. Between his cock slamming my g spot, my sensitive nipple being sucked, and massaging my clit, it was too much. I could tell it was pushing him to completion too. Suddenly my body grew tight, and I felt my vagina clench his cock like a vice. I felt my whole-body spasm and wave after wave of orgasm hit. I could tell he was orgasming too; he couldn't handle the tight clench on his cock, or the bitch in heat moaning on top of him. Suddenly a wave of fluid rushed out of my pussy all over his cock and groin. Fuck my life, I was a squirter. He didn't seem to mind, and continued to thrust a few more times, until we both breathed out large sighs and I collapsed on top of him, my large breasts pushed between his body and mine. I don't remember much of the rest of that night, like what happened next, or how I got home. But my first female sexual encounter will never be forgotten. And I don't mean that in a good way. My body got what it had been calling for, at the cost of forcing me to think about having sex with a dude. It sucked. But at least the urges had gone away, for now. Unfortunately, the desires did come back prior to periods, quite consistently, but I made sure to avoid drinking as much as possible. I didn't want to have more nasty memories of making out with dudes or letting them bang me. After months of intense desires that became debilitating, I decided I would suffer through one more experience to get it over with; hopefully it'd get me to stop thinking about cocks for a few months, if I just took one. Conveniently prom was coming up. I'd been asked a few times, but turned everyone down. I didn't even want to go. But fuck it. I decided I'd go, find someone drunk enough to let me take their cock quickly and be done. Ugh my animal instincts were overriding my mind again. Eliza had supplied me with birth control after I'd complain my periods were too heavy and painful. The birth control lightened the periods but didn't dissuade my sexual desires once a month. As expected, Eliza spared no expense on my dress. It was a long full gown, form fitting down to my knees, where it flared out to the bottom. It was apparently called a mermaid style dress. Light blue. It was a bit hard to move, but it looked amazing. She gave me 4-inch silver heels, and what looked to be expensive jewelry; diamond earrings and necklace. We had my hair professionally done, which I wasn't a fan of, but to be fair, I did look super bangable. The night finally came and Eliza drove me to the school. I could feel a lot of eyes on me as I walked in. Especially because I was alone. There wasn't alcohol allowed of course, but someone had spiked the punch unbeknownst to me and apparently others as well. After a couple of hours, many people were clearly tipsy. Including me. I could barely stand on my heels and sat down at a table. A young man who was there taking a rest began chatting me up. I had no interest in him, but remembered why I was here. I needed something. He moved over to sit next to me and after a bit of flirting and hand touching, he finally took my hand. I thought he was taking me to the dance floor, but he continued to lead me out of the auditorium. Down a long hall into one of the empty hallways. Then into the men's bathroom and into a stall. A normal girl would have said no, and left. But I was a girl in heat again. It was taking over once more. I didn't realize at the time that this was one of the school bullies or I may have actually resisted, but instead continued along. I pulled down his trousers and began hiking up my dress. It has hard to do, since it was such a tight dress, but I finally got it up to my waist. He pushed me up against the stall door and pressed his body into mine. It was clear he was going to be in control. He grabbed his cock and pushed it up toward me. He then grabbed one of my legs and rested my foot on the seat of the toilet. This was all pretty gross but I just needed to get it, and go. With my leg up, my pussy was now prominently displayed. And he wasted no time, pushing his cock up and into my tight vagina. Unlike the house party guy, this one was not kind and careful. He wasted no time speeding up and thrusting fast. Luckily his cock was a little smaller, so while it did hurt and felt tight, it wasn't too bad. It felt good feeling the shaft slide in and out of my vagina. He got firmer and firmer and out of nowhere yanked down the top of my dress causing my breasts to fall out. I saw his eyes say "wow" as he saw them. Yeah yeah, I know they're impressive, I thought. Now my breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust. The encounter didn't last long. Within a few minutes he began stiffening and I felt something spraying inside my pussy. I just realized that he had cum inside of me. I had male semen in my body. Yuck. He pulled out and said "thanks babe," wiped his cock off and left quickly. It was a bit humiliating, as I saw his cum oozing out of my pussy. I sat down on the toilet and tried to push it all out. I hadn't orgasmed but apparently my body was content with having been filled with cum. I no longer had any desire for sex anymore. And like before, I felt disgusting, knowing I'd just had sex with a dude. I collected myself, made sure my hair and makeup was still on point. And returned to the dance. I had no interest in grinding on boys like the rest of the girls were doing, so after sitting out a few more songs, I called Eliza and she picked me up. She asked why I hadn't gone out after with anyone, and I explained to her once again that I was a fucking guy, and was sick of being a chick. That I was pissed at her for my situation. She nodded and we sat in silence the rest of the way. The next several months featured graduation and Eliza applying me to state college. She wanted her "daughter" to get an education. Fuck it. At least she's paying, I thought. But still. I'd been through this before, but at least last time I could party as a dude, banging chicks left and right. I had no interest in partying now, as a chick, being taken advantage of by guys, like I used to do to girls. Eliza finally opened up to me that Samantha, her other daughter, had a similar upbringing to my own. In that, she was originally male. Eliza had been looking for a test subject for her experiments, and found a desperate young abandoned boy who already looked a bit feminine. Although unlike my case, she?d convinced him to voluntarily transition to a full-blown girl in exchange for financial support and the promise of a high-end education. While my situation wasn?t exactly voluntary, it seemed she was willing to give me similar opportunities. I began preparing to attend college as a fucking hot co-ed. FML... To be continued.... Maddie?s story continues in one of two directions... Please review this first part of the story, and include your preference on what happens to Maddie next. 1) Maddie goes off to college, filled with sororities, parties, sexy co- ed's and maybe even a boyfriend to keep up the charade. 2) Maddie plans to go to college but before the semester starts is finally tracked down by her old mob employer, who forced her back into the employ but this time not as something as innocent as cocktail waitressing.