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Womanized

Page 20

by Nikki Crescent


  They were both hormone drugs, used in male to female HRT. I suddenly felt sick. I felt the colour drain from my face. Was it just a seriously massive coincidence? Or was Aunt Fey drugging me and turning me into a woman?

  I didn’t drink a mug of coffee that evening, and I didn’t drink one the next morning either, even though Aunt Fey kept telling me that I looked tired. “You’ll be able to focus better at school if you have some coffee she said.” I didn’t even eat the pancakes she made for me. I just stared at them as my stomach turned. I was hungry, but I didn’t want to be drugged.

  But what about my development? Would it just plateau if I stopped taking the hormones? Would my body return to normal? Was I stuck with a pair of small breasts forever? And what about all of the fun I was having as a woman? Was I deciding that I didn’t want that for the rest of my life?

  My heart was a fluttering mess for the rest of that day. I had a terrible time trying to focus in class. I couldn’t stop thinking about my body’s changes. For the past week, while I thought that I was actually born a woman and turning into a proper lady, I’d entertained the idea of becoming a chick. I’d actually warmed to the idea of being pretty and wearing sexy clothes and getting attention from men. The thought of being a guy for the rest of my life wasn’t so enthralling. I didn’t like being invisible and I didn’t like being picked on. I liked having lots of friends and I liked turning heads everywhere I went. Was that so wrong?

  It was wrong—because drugging a person without their consent is wrong, so all the results of said drugging are also wrong. I couldn’t continue being a woman. I had to be a man. But I still had to get through the school year, which was still another couple of months.

  So that next morning, after Aunt Fey left to do whatever it was she did, I found myself standing with a mug of coffee in my hand. Maybe I could keep taking the hormones until the end of the school year. I could be a chick for a few more months, get it out of my system, and then I could go back to being a guy. The Internet seemed to think that there wouldn’t be too much permanent damage, as long as I didn’t take the hormones for more than a whole year—and a couple of months was much less than a whole year. So I downed a whole cup of coffee, and then I filled my large thermos before heading to my bedroom to get myself dolled up for class.

  The coffee felt good inside of me, though I’m not sure if it was the caffeine or the hormones being welcomed back into my system.

  CHAPTER X

  Ben’s house wasn’t easy to get to without a ride. I didn’t want any of the girls picking me up from Aunt Fey’s house because I didn’t want anyone to know where I lived. I also couldn’t have them pick me up two miles from Aunt Fey’s house, on the middle of the highway, or they would almost certainly start to question where I lived and why I didn’t just ask to be picked up from my house. So I had to find my own way—which meant walking. And it was a long walk—roughly sixteen kilometers. It took me almost three hours. Luckily I brought a pair of sneakers which I wore until I was close. Then I changed into my heels and left the sneakers behind a log on the side of the road. I would need them to make the long trek back home.

  I was tired by the time I got to the party, but I was excited for my first party as a woman. And it was technically my first party altogether, seeing as I was never invited to any parties as Kenny. I didn’t know what to expect. As I saw the house materializing in the distance, I could hear the thudding of the deep bass of the music. I was half-expecting to walk into a sort of wild Animal House party, so I was surprised when I saw that there were only half a dozen guys there and a couple of my girlfriends. Everyone was hanging out in the living room, on the couches. The music was booming in another room, but there was no one in that room. Some of the guys were smoking weed, which made the room foggy, like a cigar lounge.

  “You came!” Ben said as he ushered me inside. He took my coat and then his eyes fell onto my body. “You look amazing.”

  I loved being complimented. It occurred to me there in Ben’s living room that I’d never been genuinely complimented before. It was a nice feeling. It was nice to know that all of the effort I put into my makeup wasn’t for nothing—not to mention all of the effort I put into getting my outfit put together. I was wearing a tight white sweater and a tight black skirt, which was a bit stretchy and made to look like shiny leather. Underneath, I was wearing the sexiest black panties, though I didn’t bother with a bra, as I didn’t need the support for my small tits, and I kind of liked the way my nipples looked pressing against my tight top.

  The other guys noticed me as well. I saw all of their eyes peering at me, admiring my body without restraint. They were already a bit drunk and a bit high, so their reservations were already gone. My girlfriends were looking at me as well. “Are you trying to make us look bad?” one of them said. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks as I blushed. I’d never felt so welcomed and wanted and included.

  I took a seat on the edge of the couch. Ben took a seat next to me. I caught a whiff of his ritzy cologne. He came from money. His house was ten times the size of Aunt Fey’s house and it was filled with impressive original artwork. The ceilings were high—more than twenty feet high—and all of the windows looked out at an impressive ocean vista, which was hard to see now that it was almost completely dark outside.

  “What do you want to drink?” one of the guys asked. Before I could answer there was a beer in my hand. “I hope it’s beer, because that’s all we have.” The other girls all had beers in their hands, so I went ahead and started drinking.

  The party was quiet. The guys looked nervous, which surprised me because they were supposed to be the handsome ones. They were the guys that the girls wanted—the guys who could act like assholes and still get all the female attention they waned. But maybe even handsome guys aren’t immune from being flustered around girls.

  One of the guys came out of the kitchen with a big bottle of vodka. “I found this in the freezer,” he said with a big smile on his face. “Let’s do shots.”

  “Do you have shot glasses?” one of the guys asked.

  “Uh—no,” he said looking around. “We’ll just drink from the bottle. A full mouthful is about a shot, so swallow once your mouth is full.” He started going around the room, starting with the girls. He held the bottle out and poured the vodka into the girls’ mouths. No one hesitated. And I could see that he was pouring much more than just a shot. I started to feel nervous as the alcohol came my way. I’d always been a lightweight and I’d never tried vodka before.

  He put the bottle to my lips. I could taste the sweet tinge of lip-gloss, left behind by the other girls. I took a deep breath and then I tilted my head back and parted my lips. He must have poured nearly three shots into my mouth. I gulped it down while trying my best not to spit it up. It was seconds before I could feel it warming my whole body, making me tingle all over. I had to sit still for a moment while the immediate nausea passed. By the time I had myself gathered, the man was doing another lap around the room. It was clear that they were trying to get us girls drunk. I was shocked to see the other girls happily tilting their heads back. They were apparently desperate to impress the boys. The bottle came to me. “C’mon—one more shot. The bottle’s almost empty,” he said.

  So I took the shot, which was more like another two shots. I easily had five ounces of vodka sloshing around in my stomach. I had to take another minute to gather myself—and then I remembered that I still had my beer. What was the worst that could happen? I could think of a few terrible scenarios: getting drunk and revealing my secret was a big one.

  “Let’s play Beer Pong,” said one of the guys. He sprung to his feet and went to grab the necessary supplies. He had the dining room table converted into a Beer Pong table in a matter of minutes. “We’ll make teams of two.”

  “I’ll take Kendra,” said Ben quickly. He looked at me with a smile. “Don’t worry—I’m the best at Beer Pong.”

  We went first, facing off against two of Ben’s friend
s. I took a deep breath before making the first shot. I knew that if we won quickly, we would have to drink less beer. But if we lost, we would be eliminated and would have to drink less beer over a longer period of time. So I couldn’t decide if I wanted to miss on purpose or sink every shot I made.

  I ended up missing, even though I tried to sink the shot. It turns out, sinking little balls in cups is hard when you’re in a pair of tall high heels, and when you’re already very drunk.

  Somehow we ended up winning, but with only one cup left on our side—and I’m pretty sure I ended up drinking more than Ben. “Okay—Ben and Kendra against Stephanie and Lewis.” We were up again right away. Apparently we were supposed to keep playing until we lost, which could mean getting very, very drunk.

  I would be lying if I said I remember how the next few games went. I remember winning against Stephanie, and then winning again against the next team, and then we lost. As I made my way back over to the couch, I nearly fell over. I could hardly walk in a straight line. I managed to sneak away at one point to get a big glass of water, which helped to sober me up a tiny bit—though fresh beers kept finding their way into my hands, and for some reason, I kept drinking.

  And then the next thing I knew, we were all sitting in a circle on the floor. Empty beer cans were scattered about, and I wondered how many were mine. But I was feeling clear-headed, though still a bit dizzy. Ben was sitting next to me and there was a bottle on the floor. Spin the Bottle? Isn’t that a game for kids? “Okay, Stephanie—it’s your spin.”

  The bottle spun and then landed on me. Was I supposed to kiss Stephanie? She looked into my eyes with a smile. I was frozen. She was pretty, with big eyes and long, soft hair. I wanted to kiss her—I was still attracted to women, even though the hormones were making me attracted to men as well. “Well?” she said.

  “Well what?” I asked nervously.

  “Truth or dare?” she said.

  Everyone was looking at me. I nearly said truth, because it’s generally the safer option in Truth or Dare—but I had some truths that I wanted to keep secret. “Dare, I guess,” I said.

  “Kiss Gloria on the lips—for five seconds,” Stephanie said quickly, as if she already had the dare picked out. I looked over at Gloria, who was blushing and batting her eyelashes. She was cute, too, with her short hair and her dark eyebrows. She had stunning legs and small tits, just like mine. I crawled over to her and she closed her eyes. We kissed. She had soft lips, and she was quick to give me a little bit of tongue. I wasn’t sure if that tongue was for me or for the guys watching. Someone whistled.

  “Okay, now it’s your turn. Spin the bottle,” Stephanie said. So I gave the bottle a spin. It landed on one of the guys.

  “Dare,” he said with a big grin. And everyone looked at me. Apparently it was my job to choose the dare.

  “Um,” I said, trying to think. “Kiss him on the lips for five seconds,” I said, pointing to the guy next to him. Their faces turned dark red.

  “No fair—I didn’t pick dare!” said the guy next to him.

  “You have to do it—that’s the rules!” Stephanie said.

  And then a moment later, the boys were kissing. There was no tongue—just clenched faces and red cheeks.

  The alcohol surged through me again, making my head spin and making me lose track of time. Once the clarity returned, everyone was staring at me. “Well? Truth or dare?” someone asked. I looked down and saw that the bottle was pointed right at me.

  “Dare,” I said again.

  “Kiss me for ten seconds,” Ben said. Apparently Ben was the one who spun the bottle. I looked at him as my heart fluttered. He was looking handsome—but he was a boy, and I was a boy. I couldn’t kiss another boy! I wasn’t gay. I didn’t want to go through life knowing that I’d kissed another man on the mouth. But what other choice did I have? I was under pressure and the alcohol wasn’t allowing me to think of any other options. So I leaned over and closed my eyes. Suddenly our lips were pressed together. I could feel his hard stubble against my chin. His fingers slipped up onto the side of my face, and then his tongue gently penetrated my lips. I was kissing back, sucking on his mouth, letting myself go for just a moment.

  And then I heard a voice. “He said ten seconds, not ten minutes!”

  I pulled my head away. My mind was spinning. How long were we kissing for? Why did I feel so flustered and overwhelmed?

  I reached down and gave the bottle a spin. It landed on a guy. “Take off all of your clothes and sit naked for the rest of the game.” Everyone laughed, and then he actually did it. He had a big dick and lots of body hair. The face of the girl next to him became the darkest possible shade of red as she looked down at his lap for a brief second.

  The game was fun, though I wasn’t sure how much longer my heart could tolerate the vicious pounding it was enduring. It was only a minute later when the bottle was back on me—or maybe it was ten minutes. I had no concept of time. I was just trying not to black out, and I was trying to appear levelheaded. “Dare,” I said.

  And then I looked up and saw that two of the guys were now naked, as well as one of the girls. There were more empty cans scattered about. Maybe far more than ten minutes had passed. This game was getting out of control, and I had a feeling that my dare was about to raise the bar.

  “Fuck Ben,” said one of the girls.

  Everyone giggled and then the room became silent. “Wait—are you serious?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Do it in front of us.” And the room became silent again. “Or you can chicken out.”

  All eyes were on me. The game had gone on for probably close to an hour and no one had chickened out yet. I didn’t want to be the first, but I also didn’t want to lose my virginity in front of a bunch of people I hardly knew—not to mention, I didn’t have a pussy to fuck him with. Though I did have an asshole, and I didn’t technically have to take off my skirt or my panties to fuck Ben. No one had to see what I was hiding. It could be done quickly—as long as I could take his cock in my ass. And I’d taken a number of toys in my ass over the past couple of weeks: toys I found in Aunt Fey’s bedroom (I cleaned them before using them, of course). I knew how good it felt to be penetrated, and I was a bit curious to know how it would feel to be penetrated by a real cock. But in front of people?

  What difference did it make? After graduation, I would cease to exist. It wouldn’t matter if people judged me for fucking Ben at the party because there would be no me to judge. So I looked over at Ben. I took a deep breath and I tried to hide my trembling hands. “Lay on your back,” I said. There was an audible collective gasping in the room—shock that I was actually going through with it.

  Ben’s face became white and his lips parted. He looked around and then he suddenly flattened himself down. A part of me was hoping that he would be the one to chicken out, so that I could get a new dare. But he was going through with it. I crawled on top of him and then I began to pull away his belt. He wasn’t stopping me. I could see his heart pounding against his ribcage, making his t-shirt bounce slightly. I unzipped his fly and then I tugged down his pants, along with his boxers, revealing his long, curved cock. There was another gasp in the room, and my voice might have been a part of it.

  “She’s actually doing it,” someone whispered—as if I had another choice. I didn’t want to be the loser. I was finally fitting in and finally feeling accepted. I couldn’t lose that. I gently slipped my fingers under his cock. I began to stroke him gently. His cock was heavy and warm. I pulled back his foreskin then looked at his face. He had his eyes closed. His whole face was dark red.

  The room was silent as that cock throbbed and grew in my hand. Ben took a long, deep breath. His chest rose up and then fell. His hands were trembling slightly, but he seemed to like what I was doing. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get him inside of me without some lubricant, so I was either going to have to spit on his cock or suck it. I looked down at it. It was thick and bulging and intimidating. I’d obviously never sucked a
cock before. I’d never even thought about sucking a cock before—especially in front of people. But if I spat on it, what would everyone in the room think? I didn’t want them to know that I was going to put him in my ass. I didn’t even want Ben to know that. So I had to suck it. I bent down until his tip was right in front of my lips. I took another deep breath, closing my eyes, and then I stuck out my tongue. It touched his bulbous tip.

  He let a soft moan out from his lips as I sunk him into my mouth. It wasn’t nearly as gross as I thought it would be. In fact, it wasn’t gross at all. In a weird way, it was kind of satisfying, feeling him throbbing inside of my mouth, getting bigger and bigger. He was getting erect for me and because of me. He thought that I was sexy. He was the star of the football team—the guy every girl wanted—and he was getting hard for me.

  “Suck it, girl,” said one of my friends. I felt a feminine had touch my back. She started to rub, as if encouraging me and supporting me. It was nice in a weird way, though I didn’t love being reminded that I had an audience while I lost my virginity.

  And I really was about to lose my virginity—to a man, while dressed like a girl. It wasn’t exactly the scenario I’d always imagined in my head. It certainly wasn’t an act I was ever going to forget—though I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  I pulled my head up. A strand of warm saliva kept his cock connected with my lips. I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine. “You’re hot,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I replied. Then I carefully straddled him, getting his cock perfectly in line with my asshole. I gently reached under my skirt and pulled aside my panties, just enough to expose my puckering hole, but not enough to release my package. I pointed his shaft up and then I sat down. I gasped as he entered into me. I bit down hard on my tongue, even though only half of his cock penetrated. The other half was just waiting to get inside—throbbing and pleading. I remained still, waiting for the shock to wear off before I sunk down any further. I could hear the girls and boys whispering. I looked down to make sure my skirt and still on properly, and then I felt to make sure my cock was still in my panties. Everything seemed fine—so I sunk down further.

 

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