Showers! Oh no!
"You too, Robinson." Carr nodded at Jeff when he hesitated, clearly reluctant. "Move it."
"Uh, coach, do I really need to? I think I'm fine. I've got some body spray, and-"
"Nope." The coach shook his head. "I'll hear none of that. You've had a workout just like the rest, and you've been sweating, so a shower is needed. Nobody will care about your bruise from hiking. I'll let you take your time -- you've got a record of trustworthy behaviour -- but don't damage that faith by loitering and being late for next period, got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good boy. Now go on!"
Nerves building, Jeff trailed along behind his classmates. 'Good boy.' The coach's words stuck in his head, and one thing his gym lesson hadn't let him forget was how much he didn't feel like a boy. The daily logistics of getting around with his transformation were becoming easier to deal with, but having his gender effectively removed and replaced with something decidedly the opposite? It was hard to stop thinking about that when performing all kinds of exercise, especially when every second task was one that metaphorically rubbed the mistake in his face.
Sitting down in the changing room, Jeff stripped off his top half super gradually, near to doing it in slow motion. Some of the others were horsing around like the immature idiots they were, snapping towels and talking loudly. Some were just solemnly doing their thing without too much fanfare and fuss. None of them bothered him, and before long, while he fiddled around and pretended to look for what he needed in his bag, Jeff's deliberately tardy pace was paying off. The room was all but clear within minutes, and the last four boys seeming like they were almost ready to go.
Perfect.
His things were situated further away from the showers than the remaining occupants, so Jeff took his towel, and still wearing sweatpants, walked as nonchalant and casual as he could past them to one of the cubicles near the corner. His heart was beating rapidly, but once he was inside, he hung the towel up, breathing a sigh of relief, and began to strip off the pants. The cubicle itself wasn't full height, with a small gap under the door bottom, and the stalls going above the head, but they were private enough and the showers empty enough that Jeff's fears were diminished.
It felt sorta risky, but if he was careful, everything would be fine!
Stepping under the warm spray, he admitted that the coach had been right. Jeff was sweaty and itchy from the heat, the crotch-breast in particular, and washing off the grime was the right call. He took care of the rest of his body first, going over everything that needed it thoroughly -- cleanliness was a virtue, as his mom liked to remind him all too often -- before getting to the abberant groin area. Apprehensive, he took the bodywash in hand again and began gingerly to spread it over the surface of the breast.
Jeff's worry about the situation and the novelty of cleaning his new body part began to dissolve, and he relaxed into it, going with the flow. His guard lowered, and he began to notice how pleasant it felt. The skin was very soft and smooth, and springy under his fingertips. Knowing how sensitive the breast could be, he used extra care working the liquid soap into a lather, and was surprised just how at-ease it made him to take care of it, how content he was performing this everyday task. Slick and creamy, the feminine surface was enchanting to touch, and he began to wonder: was this what a girl's breast would look like when she was showering? Jeff gazed down at himself, really studying the shape of it -- the full round curve, the seamless way it blended with his abdomen and legs where it attached, like it was made for his body specifically in a natural fit. Even the nipple was inviting, a plump little rosy nub that just begged him to touch, even if only a little.
Experimentally, he moved his hips, and his heart raced as it jiggled and gently bounced, a film of suds and water sliding over, trickling down his thighs and around the underside. Jeff LOVED breasts, and he imagined himself looking down at a girl's chest, and couldn't help but think how perfect, how tantalising, the shape and size of his was. Though he had never intended this to happen, the proportions were like something off an underwear model, and sliding a hand underneath he felt the weight of it, and the amazing feeling of the warm, soft, wet mass resting on his palm.
It was at that point he realised how long he had been staring, lost in a dreamworld, and he withdrew his hand hastily but carefully, letting the crotch-breast settle back into place, allowing the water to splash over it and wash the soap off. He had gotten perilously close to playing with it, and Jeff told himself off for his indiscretion. For once, his mother's advice was absolutely fitting -- this wasn't the time, nor the place! He had classes to go to! He had to stop this charade, this ridiculous idea that he was enjoying having it -- he was getting his penis back in another day anyhow. He didn't need anymore messing around, and confusing thoughts!
Turning the shower off, Jeff exited the cubicle, the towel wrapped about his waist, clothes and sundry items in hand. The changing room appeared mercifully empty, and it seemed like his luck had finally turned! Making his way around the dividers and benches in the middle of the room, he headed back to the spot next to his locker.
Just as he was about to reach it, two things happened at once.
The urinal flushed, and Jacob Harper, unnoticed until now, came around the corner from behind the partition to grab something out of his locker before leaving.
Jeff's towel caught on the edge of the bench as he was walking past, and pulled loose, crumpling into a heap on the floor.
There he was, stark naked, facing towards the other boy, in plain view.
His pulse loud enough to wake the dead, Jeff crouched, crotch-breast wobbling and rippling lightly, and he snatched desperately at the errant grounded towel. He jerked it up, slapping it onto his groin at the exact moment Jacob looked his way. The timing was split-second, but all Jacob saw was another teenage boy fresh from the shower and about to get changed, clutching his things in one hand and with a towel against his middle in the other.
"Jeff, dude, you're still not done? Better hurry up, it's almost next period." Jacob shrugged, indifferent but friendly, before closing his locker. He and Jeff had always got on fine, though they were never close friends.
"Yeah. Uh, n-nearly done." Jeff managed, the fabric pressed very hard against the fatty breast-flesh out of pure fear, squishing the contents of his crotch so flat that he could feel it brushing both thighs.
"Alright! Laters, dude."
Then Jacob was gone.
Taking a deep breath, Jeff sat down.
One moment, one second.
That was all he escaped being seen by.
His hands were shaking as he rapidly dried himself, and pulled on the bra-cup, now fully and completely alone, and his school pants and top after that.
That was FAR too close, and the thought of being found out at school and the mocking disgrace he'd be met with was humiliating on its own. Jeff tried not to dwell on the disastrous aspect, but there was also a small admission that he had felt a rush, a thrill like adrenaline from what had happened. He didn't WANT to be seen, but ... getting that close? Knowing that Jacob was only a blink, a head-turn away from witnessing Jeff's most shameful secret? That it would have taken practically nothing for him to see Jeff emasculated, standing there with only a round bubble of female breast-flesh instead of his regular junk?
It was exciting in some twisted way.
He didn't want to think about it anymore, so instead he finished in the changing rooms and then began the rush to his next class.
The rest of the day sailed by mostly uneventfully. Gym had been the worst of his problems, and the other classes didn't present any kind of serious physical challenge. Instead, he managed to get through it, focus on the schoolwork, and think about his salvation the following day. While Jeff wasn't an exceptional student -- his grades were good, though not the top of the class -- his transformation still interrupted his thoughts any time his mind wandered. Mostly it came back to Brianna. They had been neighbours since they were little, but it had taken until Tim's birthday two days earlier for him to get closer to her, and the timing couldn't have been worse. Jeff was sure she was interested in him beyond friendship too, and that his crush might not be totally one-sided, but his mistake with the Chronivac had made everything stupidly complicated just when he didn't need it to be.
Yet, Tuesday was going to fix that!
He needed to pee before the school day ended, and he made sure to get that done without the drama that had surrounded urinating the last two times. In fact, as Jeff sat down in the stall, door firmly locked, he found himself mildly excited by what he was about to do. There wasn't much to be rid of, as his bladder wasn't even close to full, but it still felt great. Angling his crotch-breast into the bowl, holding and squeezing it gently, then sitting with an agreeable smile on his face as liquid drained away, pattering softly onto the porcelain below. Not nearly as orgasmic as prior, he still enjoyed it a lot, and once again, he had to pull back his emotions.
He was getting into this too much.
Jeff knew he was getting his dick back, so there was no reason to become so fond of doing things with the breast, but ... it kept pleasing him, making him want a bit more, when he least expected it.
With that, he decided on a compromise.
Be a good student and a good son, go home, do his homework, eat dinner with his family, and then, just before bed? One last milking to satisfy the urges he had started in the gym showers -- a final chance to enjoy the crotch-breast's unusual luxury before he reacquired his penis and testicles tomorrow.
So that was what he did.
School finished, and he followed his course of action. Homework quickly dealt with, then hearing Jack's annoying babble about his day, talking with his mom and dad over a casserole and vegetables, then a bit of TV before up to his room. He messed around on his computer for a while, just killing time, and then ... plan into motion.
Door firmly closed, his parents and brother otherwise engaged, Jeff shucked his pants and got comfortable. He closed his eyes, wrapping his hand around the breast's base, and began to slowly massage it. He thought about Brianna, though his imagination was a lot more tame than the last time, and he avoided oral sex. Instead, he was kissing her and holding her close, and her breasts were pressing against his chest through her shirt. He kept trying to imagine his youthful teenage penis poking out between them in a solid hardon while she stroked it, but for some reason his mind refused, morphing it into a breast at every attempt. Jeff just gave in, rolling with it, and instead, she was petting and stroking it. Brianna pulled his hips closer so the crotch-breast could rub in the space between them, encouraging it to swell with milk as she turned him on more and more.
Jeff grunted, hips thrusting in a lethargic humping motion, the real arousal matching his fantasy. He could almost feel her hands on his crotch-breast too, the nipple tingling as his 'erection' got larger, closer to a true human udder. They were squeezing and pulling it together, stimulating it all over, 'masturbating' him, their hands working in harmony. Jeff shuddered, the manipulations of his groin's spongy tissue sending surges of heavenly warmth through him, and hitting a climax, he opened his eyes and swiftly grabbed the glass from his nightstand that he had kept prepared. Placing it between his legs, the nipple sending a blip of sexual joy as it brust past the rim, he groaned, and ... and-
Let go.
Breathing in short huffs, Jeff stared anxiously, feverishly, keeping the nipple jammed into the glass while he continued to milk himself. The stream of white liquid matched the tune of his trembling hands, and was met in turn by constant, uninterrupted rapture that seemed to glide on without stopping, far more protracted and continuous than the old male orgasm. His butt and legs were clenching out of reflex, and Jeff sighed as the spectacular wonder of the crotch-breast's orgasm finally slowed down. He pulled the nipple from the top of the glass, and it ejected with a little pop of decompression, milky droplets coursing down the side.
Immediately, Jeff lifted the glass up and began to drink.
Warm and rich and creamy, it tasted better than regular milk to him, and Jeff drained the whole glass, sitting back against his pillow. He felt fucking amazing, the afterglow seeming to intensify and strengthen, the experience acting like some kind of self-created aphrodisiac. Finishing it all, he licked his lips and swallowed properly, savouring the taste and the unique sensations it gave him. If he was being honest with himself, despite all the trouble it gave him, the breast was a lot more enjoyable than he ever thought possible.
He was going to miss it, he admitted. He was looking forward to getting his penis back -- definitely! -- but he was going to miss the strange pleasures of having a crotch-breast. Jeff tilted the glass back, trying to drain any last remaining drops of milk onto his waiting tongue. Yeah, he was really going to miss it ...