It's a Friday evening in Summer City, the sun setting into a candy-colored splendor that shimmers off the polished hood of the classic '84 Firebird parked in your driveway.
You're leaning against the car's shiny exterior, basking in what should have been the beginning of a laid-back, stress-free weekend. But as the universe would have it, your plans for idle relaxation are about to be capsized by the human hurricane otherwise known as your stepsister, Alexia.
Her voice comes slicing through the serene calm, high pitched and frantically excited, "James! James, I NEED you!"
She sprints out from your shared suburban home, her long brown hair a wild mane in the Florida breeze. A pair of skin-tight hot pink shorts hug her round, perky ass, while her matching halter-top does little to tame her ample breasts. In short, she's a dazzling, unashamed spectacle of brattiness and beauty.
Rolling your eyes, you straighten up from the Firebird's hood. "What now, Alexia?” you sigh, shielding your eyes with one hand as you squint at her fast-approaching form.
She finally skids to a halt before you, her high heels digging into the paved driveway. Her chest heaves from her manic dash, her breasts quivering like jello in a magnitude nine earthquake.
"I've got a date tonight, remember?" she pants, hands on her hips.
"Yeah… and?"
“Aaand I don't want to go!" she blurts.
You blink at her, "Then don’t… go?"
"I can't just not go, James!" she huffs, rolling those chocolate brown eyes. "It's Ryan. You know, Ryan from the gym? Mr. Six-pack? The Adonis with biceps bigger than your brain?"
You're well aware who Ryan is. Every girl in Summer City, and a fair amount of the guys, know who Ryan is. "What's the problem then? You've had your sights set on him for months."
She crosses her arms under her bust, lifting her breasts slightly and making them appear even more prominent. "That's exactly the problem, James! I can't go on a date with him looking like this!"
You glance her up and down, struggling to see the issue. "Like what?"
With a dramatic flourish, she points at her neck. There, just under her jawline, is a tiny red zit. You lean in, squinting to make it out.
Seeing your confusion, she rolls her eyes again. "Hello, I have a zit! I can't let Ryan see me like this."
You can't help it, you burst out laughing. She frowns at you, those brown eyes blazing with bratty indignation. "Oh c'mon, it's hardly noticeable."
"James," she says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “JAYMES. You don't understand. This isn't just a date, okay? This is my chance to seduce him, to get him into bed."
Your mouth falls ajar in shock. "What?! Why would you—"
"James, listen!" she snaps, cutting you off. "I need you to go on this date for me."
You fall silent, waiting for the punchline, but it never comes. She's serious. "You're out of your FUCKING mind, Alexia.”
"Please! I'm begging you!" she pleads, clasping her hands and giving you the puppy dog eyes. "All you have to do is swing by the mall first, pick up an X-Change pill. Twenty-four hours as a girl. That’s it. Easy peasy."
Your mind reels at the thought. Taking an X-Change pill, swapping your gender, just to cover for Alexia on a date? It's ludicrous, insane.
“Alexia, this plan makes absolutely no sense," you protest, throwing your hands up.
She looks you in the eye, her desperation palpable. "It's a blind date, James. He doesn't know what I look like!”
"But what if—"
"All you gotta do is make sure he doesn't like you... like, to the max. Then… then…" she says, "you recommend him to your 'friend.' You know, me, Alexia! But of course, I'm unfortunately unavailable until next week. Just enough time to clear this thing out and get my skin looking spiffy.”
You narrow your eyes at her, "And why can't any of your girlfriends go?"
"Maddie is in Fort Myers, remember? And Brittany has that thing with her ex tonight. And Vanessa… well… Vanessa is Vanessa, she'll probably end up fucking him instead." She waves off each name dismissively, "None of them can help me, James…. You're my only chance."
Alexia looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please, James. I really need this."
Her plea tugs at your heartstrings. It's insane, yes, but seeing her desperate look, you finally sigh and rub your temples.
The things I do for family.
"Alright," you mutter, regret already sinking in, "I’ll do it."
Alexia squeals in delight, throwing her arms around you in a tight bear hug. You can feel her tits pressing into your chest, the silky material of her halter-top barely separating your skin from her warm, soft breasts.
"Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" she breathes into your ear, each word punctuated by her tits bouncing against you.
—
With Alexia's grateful giggles still echoing in your ear, you slide into the driver's seat of your Firebird, your hands shaking slightly on the wheel.
"Alright, buckle up," you murmur as Alexia clambers into the vehicle, the car's old leather upholstery creaking beneath her weight. She slams the car door shut and with a rev of the engine, you pull out of your driveway, leaving your ordinary life behind for what promises to be a night of insane, crazy shenanigans.
The drive to Paradise Mall is a short one, and you find your heart pounding in your chest with each passing block. The mall, a vibrant pastel colossus, looms ahead, the bright neon sign casting a cheerful glow onto the bustling parking lot.
Paradise Mall, with its retro aesthetic of neon lights, colorful pastel storefronts, and 80s pop music, seems to have stopped in time — a tangible echo of an era long past.
Alexia guides you through the maze of glittering shops and animated crowds, her hand tightly clenching yours - not in affection, but rather, to hold you to her schedule!
The steady click-clack of her heels against the polished mall floor adds a rhythmic undercurrent to the atmosphere of lively chatter and soft, ambient music. Together, you weave through the bustling crowds, weaving past attractive women in trendy clothes, their assets accentuated by the form-fitting fabric.
“See, James? It’s like a buffet of hotness, don’t you think?” Alexia whispers, a playful smirk on her lips. “It’s fun to be hot. I promise!”
You blush, averting your eyes. Even so, you can’t help but wonder how many of these women were once guys, and how many of the guys were once girls. How many are on X-Change, exploring a world of femininity and sensuality — seduced by the allure of the pink pill.
Finally, you arrive at your destination.
From behind the counter, a tall, grinning man with bushy brows and a piercing gaze greets you. His voice is high-pitched, a nasal drawl that seems perpetually amused.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he chuckles, eyeing you and Alexia over his half-moon glasses. “Welcome to the X-Change Pharmacy!”
Alexia releases your hand, striding confidently to the counter. "One X-Change pill, please. The basic pink one.”
The pharmacist retrieves a small, shiny package. Inside, there's a colorful trading card, one of the special edition 'X-Change Captions’ cards that often end up on eBay for outrageous prices.
You gulp as you watch the pharmacist ring up the total on his anachronistic register, the display glowing a soft orange. "$100, miss."
Without missing a beat, Alexia pulls out her credit card, handing it over to the pharmacist. You watch as she winces slightly when the transaction is approved, the receipt neatly printed out from the old-fashioned register.
As you're handed the small X-Change package, your fingers brush against Alexia's as she reaches for the trading card.
"Hey, I paid for it. It's mine!" she argues, grabbing the card before you can protest.
"But I—"
“Oh, don’t be such a baby!” she retorts, sticking out her tongue at you.
With the X-Change package safely stowed in your pocket, Alexia steers you towards Bonwit Teller, a stylish department store that's always bustling with fashion-forward women. As you both walk in, a wave of scented air hits you – a mix of sweet perfumes, crisp linens and the soft musk of expensive leather goods.
Alexia drags you through racks of clothes, her fingers skimming the hangers with practiced ease. Each outfit she raises for inspection makes your heart sink lower into your chest – slim pencil skirts, skin-tight jeans, see-through blouses, low-cut tops...
"Here," Alexia finally decides, offering you a stylish, yet sexy outfit. It's a little black dress, its fabric shimmers subtly under the fluorescent lights. It's classy and yet undeniably sensual, its low V-neck and short hemline designed to show off a woman's assets. "This is perfect! Stylish, sexy, but low-key."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Alexia," you groan, holding the tiny dress against your body. It barely covers half your torso.
"Stop moaning, James. You're not even wearing it yet. Plus, you'll be returning it tomorrow. Think of it as... a rental," she says, checking her reflection in a nearby mirror.
"But—"
"No buts!" she snaps, grabbing you by the arm again. "Now, follow me. We need to get you changed."
Alexia leads you towards the women's fitting rooms, past rows of lingerie and piles of neatly folded clothes. Your heart pounds as you enter the pastel pink cubicle, the small, full-length mirror on one side making your throat tighten with anxiety.
She pushes you into the cubicle, her hands on your shoulders. "Okay, James. You've got to calm down, alright?"
"I am calm!" you retort, but the slight tremor in your voice betrays you.
"No, you're not," Alexia says, her tone suddenly softening. "Just breathe, okay? In... and out..."
You follow her instructions, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. "Alright. I'm okay."
"Good. Now, take the pill."
Your hands quiver as you remove the small, cylindrical package from your pocket, the shiny pink pill glinting in the bright fitting room light. You glance at Alexia one last time for reassurance.
She nods, stepping back to give you some space. "Go on, James. You can do it."
With a deep breath, you pop the pill into your mouth, the metallic taste dissolving on your tongue. You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. It tastes strangely sweet, like a berry-flavored candy.
Alexia's hand reaches out to grip yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just breathe, James. You're going to be okay."
"But what if—"
Everything happens all at once. A sudden, jolting heat fills your body, like someone poured molten metal straight down your throat. It's intense, blinding, spreading outward from your core and seeping into every cell, every fiber of your being. You gasp, clutching at your stomach as if trying to physically contain the heat.
"James!" Alexia cries out, her voice echoing in the small fitting room. "Are you okay?"
"I'm... I'm fine," you pant, bracing your hands on your knees as waves of heat roll over you. Every muscle in your body clenches, a low groan escaping your lips as you struggle to stay upright.
Your male clothes are straining, the heat inside you seems to be expanding, transforming, redistributing…
You feel an intense pressure in your chest, like someone is inflating two balloons under your skin. You look down, to see your shirt straining against the new weight, the material stretching thin.
Alexia stares, her mouth agape as she watches your chest inflate into a set of large, prominent tits that bounce slightly with your rapid, shallow breathing.
"Oh fuck, those are bigger than mine!" she exclaims.
Your upper body tingles as your muscles soften, morphing from hard, compact muscle into smooth, jiggly curves. Your arms slim down. Your veins retreat under your skin, your hands becoming more graceful, feminine. Your broad shoulders narrow, adopting a softer, more elegant silhouette that's highly visible through the tightening fabric of your shirt.
Now, it's the turn for the lower half of your body.
The heat in your guts suddenly concentrates between your legs, making you yelp. It feels... it’s morphing, trying to... push in on itself, a new opening forming where your familiar masculinity used to be. Your dick - it’s folding in onto itself, a new set of soft, spongy folds replacing your once proud manhood.
"James..." Alexia's hand rests on your shoulder, her grip tight.
"I... uhnn... Fuck!" you manage to spit out just as a tingling sensation travels down your spine, straight to your ass.
An intense pressure builds up, as if invisible hands are kneading and shaping your former firm ass into a fuller, rounder shape. The rough texture of your jeans becomes more apparent as your ass grows sensitive, the fabric strained across your ballooning zsscheeks.
"Jesus..." Alexia exhales, her eyes wide as they take in your transforming form.
Your own attention, though, is diverted. You glance down to see that your ass has grown round and plush, straining the material of your jeans. A shiver runs through your body as you realize that you're stuck in this suddenly ill-fitting outfit.
But no time to think. Your legs are next. You can feel the painful tightening in your calves, the muscles shifting and shrinking to become slender and soft. The heat twists and weaves its way through your body, leaving no part of you untouched, unaltered.
When the wave subsides, you're panting heavily, slumped against the wall of the fitting room. A pair of large, hefty tits jut from your chest, a slight bounce in step. You have curvy hips, a round ass, and shapely legs that end in smaller, dainty feet. And between them, the piece-de-resistance - a perfectly-formed, sensitive pussy.
Looking up to the mirror, you see... her. A woman who is you, but not you. Her eyes are wide, her lips slightly parted in awe and fear. You raise a hand, and so does she. You are her. She is you.
"Fuck... James," Alexia mutters beside you, her usual confident composure replaced with open shock. "Or should I say, Jasmine? God, those tits...."
"Alexia," you plead, your voice higher, softer. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed... you need her help. "Can you... grab the... um..."
"Dress," she finishes for you, her shaking fingers grabbing the hanger. She looks at you, then the dress, her eyes wide. "Fuck, we might need a different size... and maybe a bra..."
She disappears for a couple minutes, and you’re left with your own thoughts of self-loathing.
What the FUCK have I gotten myself into?
“Alright, the first thing you need to know about bras is that they’re a bitch,” Alexia returns, holding up a lacy black bra. The underwired cups look formidable, like they could hold an ample amount of flesh, and you can't help the twinge of anxiety that fills you at the sight of it.
You watch her as she walks you through the art of putting on a bra, her words a gentle babble in your ear. There's a strange sense of disconnection, watching your reflection in the fitting room mirror. You can see "her", Jasmine, with her big baby blues and a nervous smile, her pale, ample tits barely contained in a lacy black bra that Alexia is hooking for her.
Your mind recoils, tries to deny it, but your eyes can't lie. That's you in the mirror, isn't it? You – Jasmine. Jasmine with her blonde waves, her sparkling eyes, her perky tits and her new pussy.
As Alexia leans back, admiring her handiwork, you catch a glimpse of your reflection again. Jasmine - you - dressed in the undergarments of a woman, the bra cupping your hefty tits, pushing them up and making them even more pronounced. A pair of lacy panties clings to your hips, a pretty little bow decorating the front.
"God, they’re big. Yeah,” Alexia comments, stepping back to take in the sight.
You slide your legs into the panties next, pulling them up your toned, smooth thighs until they settle against your hips. The soft, lacy fabric clings to your newly-formed mound, your pussy securely tucked within.
"Great! Now for the dress..." Alexia claps her hands, her eyes shining with excitement. She hands you the little black dress she’d picked out earlier.
You slip the dress on, pulling it down your body. The soft, lightweight fabric drapes over your newly feminine form like a second skin, hugging your wide hips and full breasts. The low-cut neckline dips dangerously low, your ample cleavage on full display.
Looking down, you're startled at the sight of your new body, clad in a tiny black dress. It feels... unreal, like a dream you'd wake up from any moment.
Suddenly, you feel Alexia's hands on your shoulders, pulling you back into reality.
"Listen, Jasmine," she starts, "Remember, your goal tonight isn't to seduce Ryan, alright? I don’t want him to fall for you... I just need him to have a good time... be his good friend... mention me somewhere, tell him about ME,” she bites her lip, thinking for a moment, “tell him I’m sexy and fun, and like... missed out on tonight or something."
Having said that, Alexia starts running her fingers through your blonde waves, tousling them lightly before applying a few spritzes of hairspray. "Besides,” she can’t resist adding, “We both know you'd royally fuck it up if you tried to turn a guy on."
You want to retort, but end up catching your reflection in the full-length mirror again. The person staring back at you - Jasmine - she's not exactly... unattractive, is she? She's got a definite girl-next-door vibe, with her blonde waves and sparkling eyes. Her dress clings to her curvy figure, displaying ample cleavage and a set of toned, sexy legs.
Alexia leans onto your shoulder, her eyes now soft as they take in your reflection. "Well, you're no Alexia," she muses, her lips curving into a mischievous smirk. "But you're not half bad, Jasmine. Not half bad at all."
You roll your eyes at her comment, a small smile tugging at your lips. But inside, you keep repeating to yourself like a mantra - I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Just twenty-four hours.
"Alright, now for the pièce de résistance," Alexia says, her mischief-filled eyes twinkling. She pulls out a pair of shiny black pumps from a shopping bag and sets them on the floor in front of you.
You stare at the heels, a sense of foreboding filling you.
"Alexia," you say, looking up at her with a pleading expression. "I am not going to wear those."
She laughs, her eyes dancing with glee. "Oh, you'll manage, Jasmine. You're a woman now, remember?"
You gaze at the heels, each one a sleek tower of black patent leather towering at what must be five inches high. They're scary and intimidating, seemingly defying the laws of physics and human foot anatomy all at once.
You reach down, your hands shaking slightly as you pick them up. They're incredibly light, the soft interior lining silky against your fingertips.
"Here, try them on," Alexia instructs, nudging you onto a nearby chair.
You slide in a foot, then another. Despite your initial misgivings, the shoes are oddly comfortable. But the height... you're not sure how you're supposed to balance, let alone walk, in them.
Alexia stands in front of you, her arms crossed. "Come on, stand up."
"You better catch me if I fall," you mumble, slowly pushing off the chair and onto your feet.
The world seems to tilt alarmingly as you stand, your center of gravity now a good few inches higher. You feel wobbly, unstable, like a foal learning to walk for the first time.
"Alright, now just... walk towards me," Alexia says, stepping back and motioning for you to follow.
Inhaling deeply, you lift a foot, gingerly placing it in front of the other. You immediately feel yourself tipping, your arms flailing out to steady yourself.
Alexia bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach as she watches your struggles.
"Fuck... these... FUCKING FUCK SHOES!” you curse, trying to regain your balance.
"C'mon, Jasmine! You're just taking baby steps. Try it heel to toe. Longer strides. And SA-WING those hips!"
Rolling your eyes, you attempt to follow Alexia's instructions. Heel to toe. Swing the hips.
It's awkward, incredibly so. Each step feels like you're about to topple over. But then, you begin to find a rhythm. You're still wobbly, sure, but less so. You're moving... in what could be called a walk.
Alexia's laughter softens to giggles, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I... I can't..." she gasps out, holding her side.
A heat rises to your cheeks, but you refuse to give in to embarrassment. Instead, you lift your chin higher, take a deep breath, and take another step.
"That's it, Jasmine. You're doing it," Alexia encourages, her laughter subsiding. "Keep practicing. And remember, it's all about confidence. Wear those heels like you mean it.”
You nod, focusing on the echo of Alexia's words in your mind. Confidence. You can do this.
—
As you stumble out of the house on your unsteady heels, Alexia applies the finishing touch - a spray of her signature perfume. It's floral and sweet, wrapping around you like an invisible shroud of femininity.
With a wicked smile on her face, she delivers a light slap to your ass, which sends an unexpected jiggle through your body.
"Remember, your job is to get him interested in me, got it?" she admonishes, her tone playful yet firm. "And if you even think about seducing him, I’ll rain down so much hell on you that you'd wish you never took that X-Change pill."
“I already wish that, idiot!”
Anxiety is twisting about in your stomach like a knot. You're doing this for Alexia - this isn't about you.
A car honk from outside startles you out of your thoughts, your newly sensitive nipples hardening in response.
"Oof, that's the cue," Alexia says, ushering you towards the door before you can back out. "Just play it cool, Jas. You got this."
As the front door shuts behind you, a fresh wave of nervousness washes over you. The sound of idling engine fills the quiet night, and you spot a sleek, silver Ferrari waiting outside.
Ryan is behind the wheel. Tall, athletic, with a pair of emerald green eyes that twinkle under the dim streetlight. His neatly combed hair is the color of a raven’s wing, and a few rebellious strands fall across his forehead, adding a sense of allure to his handsome face.
When you approach the car, he grins and pushes open the passenger door for you. As you attempt to slide in gracefully - a near-impossible task given your lack of experience in high heels - you can feel his eyes on you. Especially on your generous cleavage.
The possessive thrill his gaze triggers surprises you. It’s new, overwhelming, something you’ve never experienced as a guy. You quickly redirect your focus on to adjusting your dress, struggling to ignore the heated blush spreading across your cheeks.
"So… Internet Friend," he starts casually, pulling out onto the road. "I feel like it's about time I learned your real name?"
You blink at him, fumbling with your seatbelt as you reply, "J... Jasmine. My name is Jasmine."
His grin widens. "Nice to meet you, Jasmine."
The drive to the bar is filled with anxiety-induced silence, broken occasionally by Ryan’s attempts to make small talk. He’s smooth, suave, and comfortable. Conversely, you’re incredibly timid and uncertain, a stark contrast to your usual self.
Despite your efforts to talk about Alexia, his attention keeps wandering back to you. To the newly transformed you; the Jasmine who teeters on high heels, who blushes at his compliments, who gasps when he nonchalantly places his hand on your knee.
His touches send jolts of electricity through your body, your mind going blank every time his fingers brush against your new, soft, feminine skin. You constantly have to remind yourself: I'm Jasmine, not James. This isn't about my feelings; my goal is to make him interested in Alexia.
The bar Ryan takes you to is a lively place, buzzing with chatter and filled with the throbbing beats of the latest popular hits. Bright neon lights illuminate a quaint bar counter, where patrons sip their drinks and laugh at the bartender’s antics.
He guides you through the crowd with a warm hand on your lower back, his touch sending waves of electrified sensations up your spine.
"Shall we get a drink?" he asks, leading you towards the bar.
"Yes, a drink would be good," you mumble, acutely aware of the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of your back.
His eyes glimmer with amusement as he places an order with the bartender - "A piña colada for the lady and a scotch on the rocks for me."
Ryan retrieves your drink and hands it to you with a charming smile. "Try this, it's delicious."
You take a sip, the sweet tropical flavor of the cocktail surprising you. "It's good," you admit, using the drink as a shield between you and his intense gaze.
"You look beautiful in this dress, by the way," he offers, his gaze dropping down to your cleavage before meeting your eyes again. The brazenness of his stare has your entire body heating up.
"Th-thank you," you stutter. His honesty is disarming, adding to your disorientation.
The conversation starts to flow more easily as you relax into the cushions of the booth. He’s telling a story about a vacation he had recently been on, making you laugh with a particularly absurd moment.
Then, he puts his hand on yours on the table. A casual, seemingly accidental touch. But the shiver that runs up your spine is anything but casual.
"Don't tell me you're cold. I thought us Floridians were immune to the chill," he teases, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. He isn't making any move to pull his hand away, and your heart is hammering in response.
"No, it's...not that," you manage, taken aback by your reaction to his touch. His thumb strokes your knuckles in a way that sends shivers down your spine.
As you finish your drink, his hand still on yours, you suddenly notice that pathetic ol' James seems to have been replaced with an increasingly confident Jasmine. When his thumb glides over your skin, you don't pull away. Instead, the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a small smile as you meet his mesmerizing gaze.
The shared touch, the lingering stares, the tension simmering between you two; it's electrifying. You realize in that moment that your nervousness has faded into a buzzing warmth, heightened by the effects of the X-Change pill.
And when his other hand absentmindedly finds its way to your thigh, you can't help but bite your lip in anticipation, heat flooding your face and the area between your legs in response. The sensation is overwhelmingly new, but not at all unwelcome. You can’t ignore it anymore: you are attracted to Ryan.
On the pretense of getting another round of drinks, he gets up, squeezing your thigh before leaving. The sexual tension and the void he leaves behind is too tangible, too real, and alarms bells go off your in your head.
"Ryan, there is... uh, something I need to talk to you about," you start, your voice less stable than you'd like.
“Oh?” he replies, leaning on the bar, his hand lightly brushing against the small of your back. You suppress a shiver at the touch, steeling yourself to face his expectant smile.
"Um… you see... there’s this girl... my friend... um," you stumble, fighting the blush creeping up your neck.
"A friend?" he chuckles lightly, his emerald eyes shining with amusement. "Tsk tsk, Jasmine... the night is still young, and already you're trying to set me up. With your friend?"
"Yeah… I mean! No… uh, I mean yes,” you stutter. "Uh, yeah, she's my friend." Seeing his raised eyebrow, you hurriedly explain, "We're like sisters, practically.”
“Alright… color me intrigued,” His warm smile is charming, encouraging you to continue.
"Right. So, you see... she's this incredibly sexy, fun, amazing woman," you stumble over the description, cursing your awkwardness internally.
"Hmm, sounds like a catch," he comments, his gaze unwavering on your blushing face.
"She really is,” you admit, “Her name is Alexia.”
"That's a pretty name," he says thoughtfully. "So what's the deal? Why do you think she and I would hit it off?"
Gritting your teeth, you remember Alexia’s face. She’s relying on you. You continue, "Well, I mean, she's... she's very attractive. She works out a lot, just like you. And, uh... she's definitely your type."
"And how do you know what my type is?" he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.
Suppressing a flinch at his flirting, you press on, "She's asian, uh, has a killer body, and... and she loves fine dining and dates that are more… fun. Like this one."
His smile widens, the corners reaching his eyes. "She does sound like my type."
Emboldened, you pull out your phone, “Here’s her picture.” The image on your phone lights up to reveal a stunning photo of Alexia - taken just last month when she went to the beach with her girlfriends. Her beaming smile is infectious, her eyes gleaming with delight. It shows off her toned, tanned physique clad in a bikini, her long, brown hair cascading down her shoulders.
"She seems... really nice," he admits, “But, Jasmine, you’re the one here with me tonight. It's you I want to get to know. Not your friend.”
"But -- "
His finger reaches out, gently pressing against your lips to silence you before dropping back to the bar counter. The residual warmth lingers on your lips, the tingling sensation causing your mind to go in a fog.
"Jasmine," he gazes intently into your eyes, his tone soft yet firm, "I'm here with you. Tonight is about us. Not Alexia."
His words hit you like a punch in the gut. The bubbling nervousness in your stomach morphs into something else entirely, a flutters of excitement and panic at the unexpected thrill his simple touch sends down your spine.
Caught off guard, you fail to notice when he returns his hand to your thigh, squeezing gently. The familiar heat flushes through you, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.
"D-didn't you just—" you start, but your words fade away when his thumb gently traces a soft line over your hand, distracting you and causing you to gasp lightly.
Ryan's intense eyes are the last thing you see before he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin.
“Jasmine,” he murmurs, the timbre of his voice making your heart thump harder in your chest, "Let's just forget about setting up dates for our friends for tonight, okay? Let's just enjoy our night."
Suddenly, as you're stumbling over your words, Ryan's hand slips lower down your body. You freeze as his strong fingers gently squeeze one of your large breasts. A moan rips from your throat, much louder than you had intended. His other hand, the one that had been so casually resting on your leg, suddenly tickles its way up under your dress. His fingers make contact with the damp patch on your panties, causing you to gasp out loud.
"God," he murmurs, his voice rich with amusement. "You're soaked. Relax, babe, we're just having fun."
The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your panties as he presses down on your pussy. His thumb rubs slow circles around your clit, causing you to jolt in surprise. The moan that escapes your lips is anything but lady-like.
His laughter is low and husky in your ear, sending a shiver down your back. "Guess we're going to have to do something about that, huh?"
The sudden shift in the atmosphere of the date is palpable. The innocent blind date has shifted into something else entirely - something heated and arousing. You're caught in the whirlpool of your desire, your resistance crumbling under the onslaught of intense sexual feelings you're experiencing.
His hand leaves your cunt long enough to grab your own hand, guiding it down under the table to his lap. You feel the stiff outline of his cock straining against the confines of his pants and your breath hitches. His cock feels huge under your hand.
"Feel that?" His lips are brushing against your ear, his voice a seductive purr. "That's all for you, Jasmine."
The moment seems to freeze as you slowly squeeze his cock. You can't help but whimper at the thought of what lurk beneath his jeans. His thick cock is pressing against your palm, the fabric of his pants the only barrier between your skin and his.
"S-sorry..." you start to mumble, feeling a flush creeping up your neck. His hand cups your chin, turning your head towards him. His emerald green eyes gleam with an intensity that makes your stomach churn with nerves and excitement. "Don't apologize, Jasmine,” he says, his voice dangerously low and teasing, “You're just nervous. And that’s okay. We’ll take this at your pace."
Your eyes lock onto his, and whatever protests were forming in your mind melt away under his gaze.
The dim bar lights flicker overhead as Ryan pulls you along by the hand, his large fingers gently enveloping yours and the warmth seeping through the chill of your nerves. Your heart pounds almost painfully in your chest, throbbing in time with the pulsations thrumming in your pussy. Your silky panties are soaked, the drenched lace uncomfortably wet against your heated skin.
Your wobbly heels click sharply against the well-worn wooden floor, drawing the attention of other patrons. You're painfully aware of your new assets jostling with each step, your large breasts bouncing around in the confines of your tight dress, turning heads and earning you numerous appreciative glances. The appreciative looks from the other patrons only serve to further magnify your already heightened senses.
Ryan navigates through the crowd, his presence next to you like a beacon, drawing the keen suck of desire and anticipation from your female form. It's a moment’s journey, and then you're standing outside the bar's bathroom, the cold blast of the air conditioning contrasting sharply with your heated body. Ryan's fingers tighten around yours and he pulls you with him as he pushes the door open.
The bright, cold light of the bathroom hits you hard, the sound of trickling water from the sink and the nauseatingly sweet smell of cheap air freshener hits your senses all at once. The bathroom is deserted, save for the two of you. Ryan leads you toward the farthest cubicle, his steps firm and purposeful.
He pushes you gently against the white tiled wall, your back hitting the cold surface with a sharp intake of breath from your lips. The door slams shut behind you, the bang echoing around the small tiled space.
His body is pressed up against yours, his toned frame a solid, comforting pressure against your softer curves. His hands roam over your body, exploring your new form with admiration and hunger. It's a harsh clash of hot and cold that sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps breaking out over your exposed skin.
Never once breaking eye contact, Ryan gently hoists you up onto the sink counter, your skirt hitching up dangerously high as your legs dangle down, exposed and vulnerable. Your breath hitches in your throat as his hand gently pushes up your dress, revealing the soaked patch on your panties. The intensity of the situation, the lewdness of your position, and the rippling lust in Ryan's eyes leaves you on the brink of losing yourself.
"I, um, can't..." you stutter out, squirming under his heated gaze, your thighs clenched uncomfortably around the throbbing heat at your core. Picturing his cock inside of you sends ripples of hot, potent desire through your veins. Frighteningly new sensations, but you can't think straight. Not with your pussy leaking like a broken faucet underneath your short skirt. It's terrifying how much you want him, but you're just not ready for that yet.
Ryan tilts his head, going in for a kiss, but you turn your face away, your voice coming out in a low whisper.
"I can't... Because... I'm... uh, on my period!” Yes! Periods are a thing! Right?
His eyebrows raise in surprised acceptance, his face softening a bit at your obvious discomfort. He seems to understand, and his actions lighten up considerably.
"It's okay, Jasmine," he murmurs soothingly, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"But..." you start, your voice barely audible above the pounding in your ears. He watches you, his gaze attentive, as you struggle to form the right words. You feel your cheeks heating up as you speak your next words, "I could... um... I could suck you off... If you'd like."
He cocks an eyebrow at that, a wicked grin slowly spreading across his handsome face. "And how could I refuse such a tempting offer?" he says, the twinkle in his glowing green eyes making your heart flutter excitedly in your chest.
He starts undoing his belt, pulling it through his loops with a swift yank. His jeans and underwear follow suit, pooling around his ankles. His thick, veiny cock springs out from its confines, standing proudly and pointing right at you. It's bigger than you thought, glistening at the tip with pre-cum.
Your jaw goes slack at the sight of it, both daunting and oddly enticing. But you quickly pull yourself together, remembering your offer. You wrap your dainty fingers around the base of his rock-hard shaft and give him a few experimental pumps, the slit of his glans oozing with a fresh bead of pre-cum. His cock twitches in your grasp, a strained groan tumbling from his lips.
With one last determined glance at Ryan's amused face, you open your pretty gloss-laden lips and slowly lower your head, enveloping the throbbing tip of his shaft with your mouth. Your tongue lolls out, attempting to lick at the underside of his cock, but only managing to swab at his balls.
His tangy, salty taste floods your mouth as you bob your head. His thick cock hits the back of your throat painfully, triggering your gag reflex. You jerk away, coughing and spluttering, as spittle dribbles down your chin, landing on your bare, jiggling tits.
"No, no, baby, it's alright," Ryan coaxes you, his calloused hands reaching down to cup your bouncing breasts, giving them a light squeeze. His other hand rests comfortably on the back of your head, fingers interlocking with your golden curls. "Relax your throat. You don't have to take it all in," he advises you, his voice a low growl of arousal.
You nod in understanding, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you try again. This time, you only take in the head, swirling your tongue around it and relishing the sharp, bitter taste of his pre-cum. You bob your head, up and down, focusing on his tip and avoiding deep-throating him again.
His musky scent engulfs you as he pushes you closer to his groin, your nose burying itself in his curly pubes. The reality of the situation is mortifying, you, here in a public bathroom, on your knees - tits out, sucking off a stranger. It's degrading, it's... it's... it's making you really goddamn wet.
A sudden noise outside the bathroom door breaks you out of your thoughts. Panic flares within you as Ryan grabs your shoulders and yanks you into a nearby stall just in time.
In the tight space of the stall, Ryan's hand on the back of your head guides you back to his waiting cock. You engulf him once more, this time with increased fervor. Your own hands reach up to fondle his balls, rolling them in your palms.
You look up at him through half-lidded eyes as you suck and lick, your tits swaying with every bob of your head. His hand comes to rest on one of those full breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. The sensation sends ripples of pleasure down to your soaking wet cunt. You let out a muffled whimper around his member at the feeling, sending vibrations up his length that have his muscles tightening.
His grip in your hair twists into a painful knot, pulling your face away abruptly from his throbbing cock.
"I'm gonna cum," he grunts, a wild, frenzied look in his eyes. "Where do you want it?"
You're left reeling at his question, your mind a whirl of confusion and panic. Does he mean... ON you? Inside you?
"I-I, uh..." you stutter, trying to form a coherent response but finding it difficult as your eyes dart from his poised dick to his expectant face.
He doesn't wait for your answer. Instead, a devilish grin spreads across his handsome face as he makes the decision for you. "Your face it is, then," he says, a spark of amusement twinkling in his eyes.
The first shot of cum strikes with an impressive force, so much so that it splatters against the wall behind you. His subsequent spurts are just as forceful, hitting your face with hot, thick ropes of cum. It's an alien sensation, the weight of his cum on your skin, so warm and foul-smelling.
His cum coats your glasses, drips onto your nose, cheeks, and lips, painting a lewd, obscene picture. The rest of it splashes onto the front of your black dress, staining the fabric with its milky, viscous spunk.
Your mind reels at what is happening, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. Here you are, in a tiny bathroom stall, on your knees with a face full of cum from a guy you barely know.
Shame courses through your veins like liquid poison, searing hotter than the fiery blush on your cheeks. What have you done? Simply acting as Alexia's cover wasn't supposed to turn into...this. Ryan grins down at you, apparently seeing absolutely nothing wrong with the predicament you're in - cum-splattered face, stained glasses, and a ruined little black dress.
"Sorry about that," he half-apologies, using a wadded-up napkin to help clean your face. Still, his grin suggests he's far from regretful. "I didn't expect to hit you that hard."
In a daze, you let him clean you up, your mind still swimming in the sea of mortification. The silence of the bar's bathroom amplifies the squelching sound of the cum-sodden napkin scraping across your skin.
"See, you're being too serious about it," he chuckles, dabbing at a spot of cum hanging from your chin. "Think of it this way. Girls look best with a bit of jizz on their face. Really brings out your features, in a messy hot 'I just got nailed by a stud' look."
The degrading experience doesn't end there. As you sneak out through a side door of the bar, hand gripping the back of your dress to try and hide the unsightly cum stains wrinkling the fabric, he throws his arm around you, his buoyant laughter setting you on edge.
"I must say, Jasmine," he begins. "Not many girls can pull off walking with cum stains on a little black dress. But you... you're just oozing sex. I bet you're aching down there, just begging for a good fuck."
"R-Ryan," you start, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think it's best if you just... drive me home."
"Really?" He looks genuinely disappointed. "Are you sure you don't want to come over to my place? I mean, I don't mind that it's your period. There're other ways to give you pleasure, you know."
"You—you don't understand!"
You snap, incensed by his insensitivity. Yes, a part of you wants to experience more. But you need to get out of this before your body betrays you again.
“I want to go home. Right. Now."
He takes a step back, raising his hands in resignation. The grin never leaves his face. "Alright, alright. No need to get all prissy. I'll take you home. But you gotta promise to let me call Alexia. Can't leave her all curious, now can we?"
He lets out a low grunt as you punch him in the arm. "Ryan, please. Promise me you will."
"I promise," he chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where you'd hit him.
It's a relief to back home, even if walking into your house with stained glasses and a cum-stained dress is beyond shame-inducing. The Ferrari pulls away from your curb before you'd even made it safely inside, the sound of his high revving engine echoing across the echoing suburb.
—
You stumble into your room, your heels discarded haphazardly in the hallway. Closing the door behind you, you lean against it, letting out a long, shuddering breath. Your heart is racing, the blood pumping loudly in your ears as you process the whirlwind of the evening.
Shaking hands fumble with the zipper of your dress, slipping down your back like a silky snake. Your body is aflame with heat, the confines of the little black dress far too suffocating for your hypersensitive skin. With a sigh of relief, you peel off the tight fabric, discarding it in the corner of your room like a sinful memory.
Your skin tingles with the contact of cold air, the heat stubbornly lingering beside the perverted ordeal. The cum stains on your dress and glasses are just a gross, wet reminder of Ryan's final act of dominance over you in that bathroom.
With a growing sense of trepidation, your hands wander up to your chest, your fingers trembling as they lightly trace the underwire of your bra. It's a delicate maroon structure of lace and silk that's been holding back the weight of your new, enhanced breasts.
You never understood why women complained about bras. It's a piece of clothing. How uncomfortable can it be? But, boy, BOY are you learning.
Your bra feels like it was made out of iron, pressing against your chest, the underwire digging into your newly sensitive skin. Being encased in the fabric feels like a heavy guard standing duty, stopping your new tits from being able to just... breathe. And to top it off, the lace detailing of this particular one feels like it was designed to add an element of extreme torture to your already worked-up state.
You reach behind, fighting the clasp with fumbling fingers, the bra straining against the round fullness of your tits. With a shaky breath, you manage to unhook the garment, the tension in your chest releasing as if a dam has been broken.
The bra falls away, and so does a huge part of your discomfort. Your breasts spill out of their confines like freed prisoners, jiggling with the sudden release. They bounce free, the nipples hardening from the sudden exposure to cold air. The feeling of them hanging, unrestrained, is overwhelming. It's not like taking off a pair of shoes. It's like being able to breathe again after being underwater for too long.
With a profound sigh, you lift the heavy mounds in each hand. The weight of them is surprising, a constant physical reminder of the transformation you've undergone. "Fucking tits," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. You’re never again going to take for granted the shit girls go through with these things.
Your boobs seem hypersensitive, and the simple act of holding them sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, an alarming tingle originating between your legs. A warmth is pooling there, your panties growing increasingly damp.
You know that X-Change girls are known to experience libido overdrive, especially early on in the transformation while their biology is adjusting to all the new hormones.
You've felt horny before as a guy, but this? This is something else entirely. It's not just a simple erection, a stirring in your crotch that could be dealt with by a few strokes of your hand. It's a warmth spreading through your entire body, your nerves buzzing with arousal. And it's not fading. If anything, it's getting worse.
There’s a light rap on your bedroom door, followed by the shrill tones of Alexia’s voice.
“Hey, how’d it go with Ryan?”
You sigh, leaning back on my bed. “It went fine. He’s gonna call you.”
There’s a high-pitched squeal from outside the door. “Oh my god, seriously?”
“YES, seriously,” you roll your eyes.
Suddenly, there’s a jiggling at the door handle. “Let me in! I wanna see you.”
"No, Alexia!" you scramble up from the bed, holding your hands over your bare chest. "I'm... I'm not decent right now!"
She laughs on the other side of the door. "Oh, please! As if I haven't seen you naked before," she teases. "And anyway, you're Jasmine now. We're girlfriends!"
"Alexia, this isn't a laughing matter!" Your voice comes out more strained than you'd like, betraying the uncomfortable truth lurking beneath your situation.
"Oh? And whatever could be the problem?" She laughs again, her voice light and carefree, a stark contrast to the tense knot forming in your stomach.
"I... I don't know how to say this, but..." You hesitate, unsure of how to proceed. "I'm... I'm pretty... horny."
Silence greets your confession, Alexia's teasing laughter coming to a sudden halt. Then, she giggles, her laughter light and teasing like a summer breeze.
"Yeah, you would be," she muses, her tone amused. "X-Change tends to do that to people. My friend Matt - well, Maddie now - said she went at it for three days straight when she first took it."
"Alexia!" you protest, a blush creeping up on your face.
"No, no, I get it," she assures you, her voice suddenly sounding more mature, more understanding. "And don't worry. I can help."
"Help?" you echo, unsure of what she's implying.
"Yeah," she chuckles, a smirk in her voice that you can't see. "I have a little something that might help you out. Hold on."
With that, you hear her retreat from the door, her footsteps fading away. You let out a sigh of relief, slumping back down to the bed.
A few minutes later, Alexia's voice rings out again. "Alright, Jasmine. Open up. I promise it'll help."
Reluctantly, you open the door to find your stepsister holding a familiar pink item. It's her vibrator, a gadget you'd only ever seen as a gag gift in an adult store.
"Here," she says, pressing it into your hand. "For your... situation."
You stare at the object in your hand, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. You're about to masturbate using your stepsister's vibrator... as a woman. The thought is mind-boggling.
"Alright, first things first," Alexia starts, pulling out her phone and quickly typing something in. In a moment, an explicit diagram of a woman's nether regions pops up on the screen. "Here. This is a pussy, in case you hadn't figured it out in the last few hours," she chuckles, holding out the screen for you to see.
Before you can say anything, she points to a small, round spot at the top of the diagram.
“And this," she tells you, "is your clit. The magic button. Most girls get off by stimulating this little beauty."
“You really think I don’t know what a clit is? I’m not an idiot.”
She grins, a flash of white teeth against her caramel skin. "Could've fooled me," she quips.
"Whatever." You glance down at the vibrator in your hand, the buzzing mechanism already creating a soothing hum in your palm. "So, well, I guess, just tell me, what do I do with this thing?"
"Well, you turn it on and stick it up your—" pointing to her butt.
“Alexia!”
She laughs, her shoulders shaking with mirth. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Looking at your incredulous face, she continues, "Start slow. Like, outside. Use it on your clit. Hell, use it over your panties if you need to, they’re already probably soaked through anyways,” she smirks knowingly at your expense.
"I'm not... I'm not wet!" you protest, pulling the sheets tighter around your exposed body.
Alexia only winks at you, her smirk widening. "Suuure.”
"Anyway," you snap, deciding to ignore her jibe. "What else?"
"Well, it's important not to start too fast," she instructs, her tone suddenly serious. "Remember, your body's not familiar with this. You don't want to overwhelm it. Start with a low vibration. And keep it steady, don’t just go at it like a jackhammer."
"Okay... steady. I got it." you swallow, the reality of the situation sinking in.
With one last glance at the diagram on Alexia’s phone, you reach under the comforter and switch the vibrator on a low setting. A strange, buzzing sensation fills your hand as you position it over your panties, just like Alexia instructed.
"Can you please get out now?" You plead, looking at Alexia who's watching the scene unfold with apparent amusement.
"Nope," she smirks, leaning back on the edge of the bed. "I'm supervising. Don't wanna fuck this up, do we?"
“ALEXIA!”
"Get going, then!” she laughs. Then she winks. "Or do you need me to hold your hand through this too? Want me to talk about Ryan while you do it, or-"
“Just shut up!" you snap, but you're blushing, and she's laughing, and the vibrator is buzzing in your hand, and you're wet, so very wet, and so very, very horny...
Closing your eyes, you focus on the odd, buzzing sensation fluttering against your damp panties. A mind-numbing jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine the moment you make contact with your clit, making you gasp aloud.
"Holy fuck!" you blurt out, jerking your hand back in surprise. Your pussy throbs in response, aching for more.
Alexia snickers. "Behold, the power of the magic stick.”
"Fuck off," you groan, embarrassment washing over you. Despite your words, you once again position the vibrator, this time prepared for the pleasure it initiated.
The sensation is alien, yet divine. A slow build of pressure begins to accumulate deep within your lower belly, each pass of the vibrator up and down your slit increasing the intensity. You find yourself writhing against the sheets, chasing after the pleasure that beckons just out of reach.
You're not exactly silent about it either. With each wave of pleasure, you produce a soft, feminine moan, a quiet whimper that makes Alexia giggle each time. Every time you catch yourself making those noises, you want to stop them, but you can't. Not when the pleasure is so overwhelming, so all-consuming.
Alexia's teasing fades into the background as your body begins to shake, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you near your climax.
"You're close, aren't you?" Alexia's voice breaks through your haze, her tone teasingly casual. "Just let go. It's okay."
And you do. All it takes is another nudge of the vibrator against your swollen clit, and then, you're coming, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
"Fuck—!" you cry out, your back arching off the bed as the long-awaited release shatters through you. The wet patch on the bed beneath you grows as you ride out your climax, your slender hand still trembling against your crotch, the vibrator buzzing on its own, dropped loose from your grip.
When your vision finally stops spinning, you let out a shuddering sigh, your body feeling both boneless and incredibly sensitive. Your mind is in a blissful haze, the remnants of your orgasm lingering in your trembling limbs.
“Yup… definitely a squirter,” Alexia guffaws, leaping up from the bed before you can attempt to hit her with a pillow.
Blushing fiercely, you scramble to put on a pair of clean, oversized sweatpants and male t-shirt, covering your post-orgasmic body.
Your stepsister smirks. Her eyes skim your figure before she bends down to pick up your discarded black dress.
"Well, well, looks like the night was more exciting than I anticipated," she teases, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively as she inspects the stains.
You groan, flopping back onto the bed in embarrassment, your face aflame. "Alexia, just... just drop it, please."
She laughs, tossing the dress over a chair and joining you on the bed. "Oh, come on. You didn't actually think I'd let you off the hook that easily, did you? You think I was born yesterday?”
Despite the heat crawling up your cheeks, you can't help but smile at her. Yes, Alexia is bratty, teasing, and can be excruciatingly annoying at times, but in moments like these, you're reminded of why you actually enjoy having her as a step-sibling.
With a final sigh, you sit up, running a hand through your long blonde hair - it's still hard to get used to. Well, at least the X-Change pill's effects should wear off soon.
"Well, I sure hope you're grateful for all the fucking sacrifices I'm making for your love life," you mutter, shooting her a mock glare.
Alexia snickers, hopping off the bed and pulling you up as well. "Oh trust me, I am, sis."
You follow her downstairs into the living room, where she has already claimed her spot on the sofa and is flicking through the channels.
Throwing a bowl of popcorn at you, she pats the spot next to her. "If you're done primping, get your cute little ass over here, princess. It's movie time!"
With a roll of your eyes, you plop down beside her, snagging a handful of popcorn. The warmth from the TV illuminates Alexia's face, softening her usual mischievous grin.
The movie plays on, a dim background to the quiet togetherness she's created. The events of the day seem to recede into the back of your mind as you find yourself laughing and bantering with your annoying stepsister.
—
The next day, the X-Change pill begins to wear off, marking the end of your 24-hour stint as a woman. You can't help but feel a strange sense of relief. You're VERY ready to be James again. But, at the same time, there's also a newfound understanding and respect for the trials and tribulations women go through every day.
And honestly, you do feel closer to Alexia than before.
Your shared secrets, laughter, the things you’ve shared during your disaster live performance of womanhood - it makes the experience seem almost worth it.
Almost.
