Being as rough as possible with his girlish voice, Justin spat a big loogie in the sink and splashed some water on his delicate face. Awkwardly, he pulled up the toga and cinched it to his strange, altered body as best as possible. At least the water was safe. He drank a few gulps and splashed himself again before drying that pretty face on some of the toga.
“I’m done with this shit”, he tried to growl with menace. “I don’t care who you are. I’m sitting on my ass until you make a different deal.” And that was that. He knew what was in this room. And he had a pretty good sense of where the dangers were.
Shuffling over to the main room, he spread out the clean part of the sheets, fluffed the pillow, and leaned back on the bed. Deal with it, bitch. The absolute silence caused a vague ringing in his ears from his body and brain trying to fill the absence with something. The lamp beside the bed refused to turn off and no amount of tossing it around the room broke it. Even hiding or covering it didn’t lessen the gray luminous glow.
He could usually sleep, even when it was light out, but there was something about this light which aggravated him. Like a field of static along with visual, insectoid buzzing. Burying his face in whatever was available didn’t block it out. Furthermore, he didn’t feel tired or sleepy or hungry for food or all that thirsty. He kind of wanted to piss in the toilet, but just to leave another mark there.
The smell of his drying semen saturated the sheets and the area around him. He was used to the aroma but what caught him off guard was the feeling that scent now instilled in him. It had to be the fucked up stuff that this place was doing to him, but the only way he could describe it was a vague need to be closer to it. His mouth watered slightly, but he fought it back with a swallow. Dammit!
To shift his thoughts elsewhere, he sat up slightly and cupped the breast buds on his chest. Instead of focusing on whether this was a part of his body, he imagined that he had control of an under-developed but still sexy woman, his personal love doll. Playing rough with the nipples nearly broke the illusion, but it was enough to leave his tiny dick trickling that creepy clear liquid. It wasn’t bad, but playing with himself like a chick brought a wave of utter revulsion. That didn’t stop him though, until he’d tweaked the little mounds of flesh into giving up another wave of pleasure with barely a drop from his dick.
Despite the drying stains he left on the sheets, Justin tidied them up with the messy side against the wall. After some effort, it looked better but still like it hadn’t been turned down by the maid service yet. If such a service actually existed around here. Wearing the fitted sheet more like a rolled up cape than a toga, he figured it was time to try that safe again.
Hazel? Only one he could think of but the name didn’t particularly stick in his head as one of his past lovers, especially one he’d know well enough that she would come after him like this. It gave him a beep with an error. Allie? He vaguely recalled an Allison but she didn’t have any nicknames like that. It gave another harsh beep to say he was on the wrong track. Beale? Not close either. He couldn’t fucking remember every name of every woman who happened across his path. Couldn’t the stupid bitch just let it go?!
Wandering back to the bathroom, he propped up the toilet cover and considered the seat. It would make total sense if she cursed that if he tried to lift and piss. At this point, he was libel to spray all over the seat and maybe even down his leg. Cautiously, he tilted it back for an opening and carefully dribbled out a light stream spilling through the dried fluids. Finally a bit of luck, it didn’t seem to trigger any sort of sensation.
Making his mark did leave behind some shortness dribbles on his leg despite how close he clung to the edge of the bowl. Grumbling, he thought about wiping with the blanket but a quick rinse in the shower seemed like a better idea. Besides, why shouldn’t he treat himself to a warm shower when other comforts, like sleeping, were absent?
Since the sink hadn’t triggered any problems, he assumed the same would be the case here. Probably no bullshit about the water she could make up. The shower looked and felt really nice with a steamy spray. The water against his unnaturally soft and sensitive skin made for a good test before he decided to climb in.
It was instantly refreshing. The stream rivaled the water flow back at his house and certainly outclassed any of the hotels he ever stayed in. Cracking his joints, he turned and made sure every part felt the blast. When swinging back around though, his shoulder caught the nearest shampoo bottle. It was too late by the time his hands moved to keep it from falling over. The tingles already started.
This time, there was no waiting for the inevitable change. His balls and scrotum sucked up into his body. Simultaneously, the tiny mushroom of his dick vanished from sight. Furiously turning off the water, he reached a desperate hand for his groin. He expected to find feminine flesh spread in a soft gash. Instead, there was nothing but a slim, almost imperceptible slit narrower than his belly button, which resolved to be his pee hole.
“You bitch…” She’d taken away every sliver of his dick and couldn’t even be bothered to give him the equivalent. Not only emasculated and neutered, but made into less than a eunuch, reduced to a featureless doll. Despite himself and his resolution, his eyes started to get teary. At the same time, a bundle of warmth and feeling with no outlet settled in and wafted from his nether regions. Phantom horniness. An itch without any place to scratch it. The cruelest joke.
Dripping and fingering that pee hole viciously, with aching discomfort, didn’t bring him pleasure but at least tickled some form of relief. Eventually, the tingling abandoned the ruins of his crotch and layered on fresh, slightly-wet hair that fell over his ears. Sliding out of the shower while still dripping, he stood again before the mirror in time to feel the next shift.
The expanse of his skin was already soft and delicate, so there were no big surprises, but the small ones mattered too, as every inch of his skin took on a strange, fat embellished plush quality. It was the gift by birth and hormonal tenacity that crossed an uncanny valley between the masculine and the feminine. He could hide a lot of things, but the subtle perceptions of his flesh now rooted him in a general presence of looking and feeling like a woman at first glance and first touch. He had lost.
Every feature he could point to of a manly quality had been stripped from him and even more. She had taken everything. The further subtractions still hurt but didn’t have anything near the same weight.
His hips gave another soft, subtle push towards prominence while his waist continued to suggest an hourglass. With the punctuation of his ass stretching beyond any androgynous ambiguity into a feminine bend, Justin listlessly considered whether he could wait out the rest of it in the shower even though the potential landmines of the other soap and shampoos remained. And what would the next one give him? Would it be so terrible to assert some sort of genitals between his legs? His ego and brain roiled at the possibility but something was better than working from nothing. Go from a horrifying science experiment to the familiar.
At least he didn’t feel much shorter when the next tingles pulsed through his entire body. Whatever ghosts of testosterone-crafted muscles that remained on his body were consumed by the ravenous sensations spreading from legs to back, shoulders and stomach. Narrow, soft fingers showed on his hands when he looked down, capped by generous, white nails.
Before it finally left him alone again, the sensations took the potential of those slight breast buds and filled out the edges into enough of a tit to mark him as honestly needing to wear some sort of bra. Not a large one by any means, just the beginning of the alphabet, but firmly and securely developing a single inch of extra flesh, with ambitions for more.
Standing there, speckled with drying water and a hint of nervous sweat, anyone would see a woman, perhaps as imagined by a child with only dolls for references, but with distinctive feminine qualities. Moments later, the voice was back.
“Gotcha again. And look at that. Well, at this point aren’t you just a little bit curious about how it feels? Maybe you should go for another hint, even though there’s just one letter after this. I wouldn’t envy you stopping here. But you get one more possibility, the letter I. You can probably see what it is now… But are your eyes set on another prize?”
Justin‘s brain felt scrambled as he took in her words. Maybe she had a point. To be stuck as less than a man and less than a woman was a terrible fate. Maybe it was worth it to finish the job. He had to think.