Cassie had basically everything she ever wanted: A cushy email job, more clothes than she could count, a hot if dumb boyfriend, and even a pussy after a way-too-long waitlist and a few months of recovery. It was beautiful in a way. A short few years of effort and suffering and then her childhood of being a faggot was almost forgotten, the curse of her youthful queerness that infected her love of men was reversed. Queerness had a cure. It was a wonder that so few other gay boys decided to become normal women. Her life was great, her transition was over, and she could just be an ordinary woman with an ordinary life. That was until one night a few months ago, when she ran into some asshole who turned her into a freak again.

It was well after sundown, and Cassie was walking home from the gym when she saw a massive woman mashed up against a much smaller one on the park benches. As she got closer she saw the larger woman’s hands fully under the smaller girl’s dress. The groper had a twisted grin on her face and her partner, or probably victim, was moaning. God was she glad that she was into men and not perverts like this. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about gross slutty dykes under her breath as she passed them. Unfortunately, the large woman overheard her.

“Hey, what are you saying?”, she growled, standing up.

Cassie had long ago learned that an aggressive pretty woman can go a long way and turned back to face her. A life altering mistake.

“I said to get a room. Don’t treat the world like your personal cruising space. This is a public park, not the pervert sex forest, you dyke freak. Go find some dick and get it in your own space like a normal woman. And hopefully from a big guy too so you’ll look less like a tra—”

In between the time when the words left her lips and when Cassie next had a thought, she found herself knocked over in the grass. The oversized woman was on top of her. Cassie felt queasy, what had happened? How did she get here? How fast could that freak move? Her head was swimming and the air felt thick. All she could do was look into those hungry yellow eyes, breath in her warm wet exhalations. She felt like she was on fire and the ground below her felt as unsteady as the sea.

She tried to look around. Maybe the smaller woman, the victim, would call for help. She swore she could make out the girl on the bench watching them with a hungry look in her eyes but that didn’t make any sense. That girl should have, must have, run away as soon as she lost the giantess’ attention. Cassie may as well have been totally alone under the weight of this brute.

The woman was laying on top of her still, Cassie felt something pressed against her crotch. The dyke was trans too. Cassie tried to writhe away, squirming up along the ground. Her assailant shifted herself further on top of her. She could feel her erection even more now, wetness near her crotch. Was the dyke leaking precum on her? Something told her that this would end very badly if she didn’t find a way to talk the butch off of her.

“He—Hey, I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean—“, she stammered, “I’m trans too, so I’m allowed to say it—” Her protests were interrupted by an awful glare.

The larger woman pushed herself up, not breaking eye contact. One hand held Cassie down by the sternum, the other reached under her dress. A large thumb pressed down on her underwear and pushed it into her pussy. Cassie felt the violation like it was a blade slicing her in twain.

The butch scoffed at her and grunted, “Liar”

“No, I swear, just post-op”, Cassie said. The woman didn’t seem convinced.

Cassie felt dizzy— what was wrong with the air? She had a finger pressed almost inside of her and she was basically drunk. The hand over her chest was nothing compared to being pinned down by a single digit. She was in danger, this woman was going to rape her for saying some words, but she could only feel the heat of arousal instead of the rush of adrenaline.

“You can check, the scars are still healing.” Cassie wished that she had said this out of desperation more than lust.

Her assailant breathed in sharply, breaking eye contact for the first time to focus on her pussy. Her fingers grasped the top of Cassie’s underwear and pulled it down with a rough motion, exposing her entirely. For a second, the night air settled on her pussy with a noticeable chill, but just as quickly the heat coming off that woman replaced it.

The woman grunted as she ran her fingers around Cassie’s labia, her wrist pressing down on her thighs holding Cassie still as she was wracked with sensation. Cassie stifled a moan and shame washed over her. Was she enjoying this? Being touched so roughly? Being violated in public? Being touched by a woman? As the seconds ticked by, she found herself wondering if perhaps she was. The possibility made her eyes begin to water.

“Not worthy”, the woman muttered. She wiped Cassie’s face dry and stood up, walking into the darkness.

“Please… I want it…”, Cassie whined, but the woman was nowhere to be found.

Cassie could only lay there, exposed and shocked. The slight coolness of the summer’s night air was returning and she couldn’t stop shaking from adrenaline. Despite herself, she began to cackle. After all that, to just run off.

It made her question if it had even happened, absurd as it was. A brute of a woman grabbing her and almost having her way with her. She pulled her panties up and pushed her legs back together, hearing a satisfying little squelch of her own wetness. An unstable fantasy of a woman with too much stress and still more healing to do. The shame of what she had admitted out loud. How could she face her boyfriend, how could she face herself after this? She sat up and tried to smooth out her dress when her hand caught on something wet: the woman’s cum.

Cassie laughed again. Of course it all was real. She’d had some sort of freak gay awakening from a beast of a woman treating her like her prey and didn’t even get to finish from it. With an unwell chuckle she licked her hand, it tasted like the woman had smelled: warm, heavy, strange enough to make everything feel a bit unreal.

What else could she do now but go home? Hopefully the streets would be empty enough by now that she wouldn’t have to deal with anyone staring at her walk of shame. In a few days she could go back to being an ordinary straight girl and pretend this had never happened. She trudged out of the darkness toward home, trying her best to hide her face with her long hair. The strangest thing though was how it felt like it was a little shorter than normal.

Ultimately, it was probably ingesting the cum that had caused this… condition. It was manageable enough at least. Her boyfriend Taylor didn’t even know Cassie was trans so some complaints about worsening periods at least made it so that she didn’t have to come up with excuses for her monthly changes.

Cassie thought back to that night, laying down in the grass, wondering if anything was real. How absurd those emotions seemed now. It was a full moon tonight and she was already changing, an impossible occurrence in a modern world of science.

It was important to strip out of her dress before the changes started. Tightness, tears, losing something that she’d love to wear before and after these evenings would be humiliating enough but even more so were the urges. It was her mind that changed first. She didn’t know how to describe it in any other way besides dysphoria, butch dysphoria. It was pure absurdity. If someone else told her they had that, she’d have called it the stupidest thing she’d ever heard.

To be as she normally was on this night would have felt vaguely gross. Makeup felt greasy and sweaty, long nails unwieldy, heels wobbly and showy. She’d tried to go out dressed normal to fight it last month, just for a little bit before the physical changes started. It was one of the most alienating experiences of her life. It was like everyone was looking at her, watching her with suspicion. Nothing felt like it fit quite right. Too revealing, not revealing enough, too baggy, too tight in all the wrong places. To be like this was uncomfortable, to be seen was agony.

Somehow the simple act of switching to a button-up and some jeans made her feel so much more alive than the dresses she loved, the clothes she had wanted all her life, the style she had cultivated after months of awkward trial and error. Feeling good had never been so frustrating. A shameful collection was growing in the back of her closet, where Cassie couldn’t even bear to look most evenings and wouldn’t be able to stay away from tonight.

It was the same as every other full moon, and the days near it. Hiding from the light brought no less change but something about letting it hit her felt so right. A slight peek through the curtains with no lights on. No one was getting a show tonight besides her.

The changes started quickly. She shot upward, gaining an extra head of height. In turn her hair shrank, pulling itself into a tightly cropped undercut. Her muscles churned, flesh tearing itself apart and knitting together again to stimulate impossible growth. Watching her bicep bubble like boiling water as it grew was a monthly violation even deeper than the one in the park a few moons ago.

She grabbed at her own breasts, squeezing and willing some extra endowment as a consolation prize. It worked remarkably well this time, perhaps she was gaining some degree of control. Maybe one day she’d be able to limit the changes.

As she thought, her wandering hand wandered to its opposite bicep, feeling it and derailing her train of thought. The firmness of her flesh, its the size and power, feeling it push against her as she flexed, it was a rush her brain. What had she been thinking about before? She scoffed at the so recent but now so alien memory. Restraining herself an absurd notion, why should she ever limit her strength?

She closed the shades and turned a light on. Catching her own eyes in the mirror, she knew how good she looked. It was a strange feeling to think of herself as handsome when she spent so much time trying to escape that. Maybe this was a symptom of another humiliating change, another desire she couldn’t control. She was hot; not the type of hot that she was normally, but the hot that she wanted in others. Or maybe the hot that Cassie wanted. The name didn’t quite fit well during these transformations. She’d started to think of herself as Casey, a way to separate the two vastly different experiences.

Her eyes strayed down further, the most humiliating change of them all. It had grown back. After all those calls and exams and plans and incisions and rest and dilation and bills, it was all undone. Her cock was back. Maybe Cassie wouldn’t think of it that way but she was most of the way to Casey now. And maybe it wasn’t really “her” cock. Time had faded the memories a little bit but even before estrogen, it shouldn’t have looked like that. It was a terrible thing, thick and heavy, quick to attention and tough to dismiss. As shameful as she felt, watching herself transform had brought it into being with a lot of excitement.

She tried to justify her want. The bottom of it was slick with anticipatory wetness from her closed pussy as it had slid out. A firm grip wouldn’t be bad at all, just to feel her juices, it wouldn’t progress to more. It felt really good though, really good. How soon composure was lost. Casey spread her slick fluids around it, stroking tightly. A deep moan escaped from the back of her throat, pleasure overtaking her inhibition. It never felt this good when she originally had one, maybe if it felt like this she wouldn’t have—

Shock.

The heretical thought brought her back to her senses. How could she think that way? After all that pain, all that effort. The joy of being free, of being able to be just a hole was alien to her now. Her hand laid still, holding her cock but no longer moving. If she was able to stay focused, she could get out of this, have a lonely night as a strange looking but normal acting girl. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was able to move her hand away without any further stimulation. She could hold her lust back with pure tension. Her hips betrayed her, thrusting at nothing. Casey moaned, thoughts cast aside as she returned to her own self pleasure.

Glancing back to the mirror, she saw herself with a mix of awe and horror. This sight of a powerful woman, one hand on her cock and the other squeezing a breast, was begrudgingly one of the hottest things she’d ever seen. But damn it, she was better than this. Getting off to yourself in the mirror was the most perverted dyke shit imaginable. She was better than this. She should have at least found something besides her to think about, porn even. Porn had men and there was nothing strange about a woman getting off to a man. One last glance at her glorious figure before jumping onto her bed.

Casey grabbed her charging phone off the bedside table and hastily opened it up to some reliable stories. Big strong men taking innocent women, the stuff she spent years feeling ashamed about loving as she slowly figured out who she was. Years of denial, telling herself that she saw herself as the beefcake she could never bring herself to even dream of becoming and lusting after the woman that she couldn’t admit she wished she was.

But the old lies were true now. For the first time in her life, she really felt a kinship to the male love interest. To carry the princess to her bed, feel her all over, show her the surprising gentleness of her conqueror. But also the harshness, that was so important too. When the protagonist, gentle and unsuspecting, had her bodice ripped apart it wasn’t the thrilling fantasy of vulnerability, of being used by a hot guy, but the viscerality of rending someone bare, of taking what was laid out before her. She could see the princess before in her mind, breathing slowly like an animal torn between fear and heat, her breasts rising and falling shakily.

Casey’s want grew between her legs and she cast her phone aside. It was all in the realm of imagination now. She stroked her shaft and thrust into the air in turn. The princess, shocked but turned on. Advancing on her, grabbing her. Pulling her close, pushing her down. The fear mixed with arousal in her eyes as she realized she couldn’t get away but didn’t want to. It was like ambrosia to Casey, her imagination burning hot with lust.

She moved faster now, both in thought and action, excitement building and building. The princess under her in bed was nice, but she needed more. More scenarios, more lust, more predation. Pressing a woman against the wall in the bathroom of a bar. Fucking a woman in the showers at a gym. Thrusting into the mouth of some maid under the table. Inspecting a naked woman on stage during some sort of twisted auction. Pushing a woman down in the park and—

Casey came hard, harder than she’d ever come before. Her regrown cock was gripped tight, the light of the moon shone over her naked sweating body as she imagined laying on top of her past self. Still thrusting as she fantasized about going all the way like that fucking tease didn’t. Cassie had been denied her forbidden want that night but Casey could give it to her. Her body shook as the orgasm ran its course. All memory of being into guys, of being an eternal bottom, was lost for a moment. There was only Casey, rightfully fucking a needy femme on the grass.

Her breathing slowed, calming as she wiped part of her unnaturally thick load off herself and onto the bedsheets. This had not helped. It would probably only get worse as the night went on.

The expected relief from her orgasm didn’t come to pass, much to Casey’s frustration. She had do something that didn’t involve sex, she had to do something that didn’t involve gender or whatever the hell the fucking butch dysphoria was. She was a straight woman and had a fucking boyfriend. This shit needed to stop, she just needed to touch grass. It was obvious, going outside would help her calm down.

With a quick dig into the back of her closet, Casey threw on a jacket and boots. She then carefully undid her apartment’s chain latch. It was silver in color but likely not in composition. If only some precious metals could keep her normal like a silver chain could bind a werewolf. In the end, all it could do was keep someone out.

Now all she needed was a destination, somewhere to let out all this wild energy. The park a few blocks away was big enough, quiet enough, dark enough.

Soon she was back where it had started. The butch who had infected her, ruined her, was nowhere to be seen of course. She was probably off at some bar, seducing random women, leaving them forever changed. Casey could tell because a sizable part of her wanted that. It would have to remain denied.

She sat down on the bench, the one she would never be able to forget, large arms draped over the back of it. The view here was honestly pretty nice, even for nighttime. Maybe back then she’d interrupted a romantic moment. She sighed.

The moon loomed over her, lighting up the entire park in a dim glow. Before all this Casey had never really noticed how bright it was outside during full moons. She stared up at it.

“This is all your fault in a way”, she said.

The moon did not answer.

“I could have been happy, I could have been normal. Now? I’m losing myself. Just look at me. I’m a big butch dyke and the worst part of it all is that it makes me happy. The thought of wearing a dress feels absurd and I can’t even masturbate without thinking of fucking another girl.”

She pulled her arms down over her legs and moved her gaze down to the palely lit grass.

“Sometimes…”, she paused for a moment, “I fantasize about it sometimes when you’re not even aglow, when I’m the way I should be. Two weeks ago Taylor was fucking me and I let my mind wander. I thought about fucking him, taking him like he was taking me. I’m a little bit bigger than him like this, just enough to make it hot”

It really did sound hot to Casey at that moment. Thankfully Taylor was doing some stupid shit with his friends or something like that. He’d probably make a hot chick if— no, that thought was not going to get finished. And maybe even more thankfully the chilly night air was keeping her from getting too horny from a fleeting fantasy. She just needed to get through these few nights and they could be a nice picturesque straight couple again for another four weeks.

Maybe thoughts were not what this situation needed. She could just sit here and enjoy the relative solitude and the beauty of the night. The cool air on her skin, the ghostly light that draped over everything, the rustling of small creatures around her, perfectly peaceful, perfectly relaxing.

Casey heard the slow footsteps before she saw anyone. Someone was walking down the path toward her. Somehow she knew, through some base sense Cassie had never felt, a woman was approaching. Casey took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She might be a dyke now but she wasn’t going to be weird around a stranger, she still had some self control.

She did her best to appear lost in thought, to pretend she was still relaxed until the woman was nearly upon her. She tried to turn her head as casually as she could but upon seeing her, Casey’s composure was nearly shattered.

The woman was incredible looking. She’d clearly just finished a jog and was taking it easy on her way home. Her dark skin shone with an ever so slight gleam of sweat. She was wearing a fluorescent cropped tank top and skintight capris. As she got closer to the bench she turned toward Casey and shot her a short smile. Did she know how intensely she was going to be stared at from behind? Casey swore she could see a panty line.

Casey couldn’t take much more of this. She felt like she was burning up. It was like something about the world had shifted and left her unsteady but hornier than she’d been in her life. Her traitorous eyes wouldn’t look away from the jogger as she strolled away down the path. She bit her lip with want. Blood rushed to her cock. Her brain, temporarily starved, made a terrible decision. Casey got up and started to follow her.

Casey felt like a sleepwalker, propelled by some unseen force as she walked down the path. This wasn’t her, she wasn’t even gay, this wasn’t something she’d do. And yet it was. She was here, she was doing this, she was not stopping. She was keeping her distance but she didn’t really want to. She wanted to take. She was big, she was strong, she was fucking hot! She deserved this.

She picked her pace up a little. It was new to her, despite the intensity of her desires. Cassie had always been the one to take it, even back before her surgery had made that the destiny of her body. Men made it easy, so many of them just wanted to top out of social expectations. What did it mean to want to fuck someone? Breasts, ass, pussy, mouth, seeing any of these things had an appeal right now but looking wouldn’t be enough. A woman can be hot but to touch her is incomparably hotter. Pressing her hand against, inside these sacred parts, objects, and to see herself doing it was the summit of desire. Her mark on, her violation of something beautiful, a receptacle for her lust. To be fucked was meaningless to her now, all that mattered was to fuck and perceive herself doing so, whatever part of Casey that objected to this was long since silent.

Casey was getting closer. It was kind of like being a hunter, chasing down some prey. There was an exhilarating thrill to it, the feeling of power, of taking what she wanted. She could just do it, she really could. They were so alone and the hour was so late. At a certain point it was the power that mattered, not the sex. The thought of exerting her own will turned her on more than the thought of fucking a hot jogger. Leaping, grabbing, shoving, thrusting. She wouldn’t though, right?

She was nearly upon her now, her muscles quivering with anticipation. Just another few steps, just a few more steps and then— spotted.

The woman yelled in surprise as she spun around and saw Casey.

As if broken from a trance, Casey kicked herself internally. What was she doing? What had she been thinking? Was she really about to do something like that?

The woman put her hand in her pocket, grabbing something, and took a deep breath. A hazy look spread over her face. She looked more happy now at least, for whatever reason, recognition? Casey shot the lady an awkward grin.

“Oh, it’s you?”, the woman grinned back, “I’m glad to see you again.”

“You were?”, Casey was surprised.

“Yeah, I saw you back on the bench and to be totally honest, I thought you were out of my league.”

A feeling akin to an alcoholic buzz crept up Casey’s body. To be lusted after in this form was a powerful thrill, a woman could get addicted to it. Casey moved closer.

“You’re pretty hot yourself.”

The woman seemed pleased.

“I can’t stay long but how about I give you something to remember me by”, she said.

“Sure, anything from you.”

The woman took out a pen and a scrap of paper and scribbled down something on it before handing it to Casey.

“If you’re ever feeling lonely out late like this”, she said with a wink, “Oh and one more memento.”

Stepping slowly backwards, she peeled up her exercise shirt and bra. Casey froze. She’d seen tits before, obviously, but never like this. No woman had ever flashed her, tried to titillate her . The way the moonlight caught on her slightly sweaty skin was magical. Her breasts practically glowed.

“Like what you see?”, the jogger said, “Give me some space so you can get the full picture.”

Casey’s lust was roaring at her. Topless slut, right in front of her. She could reach out, she could touch them if she wanted and her womanhood sure wanted. She was about to advance toward the backing up woman when suddenly the woman got a confused look on her face

“Why am I—”

The woman shook her head, taking one big final step backward. Then she lowered her top and the spell was broken. She looked no more certain of anything but took off, jogging again. Casey found herself freshly aware as well, as if she’d woken up from a dream.

The shame poured down on her. She’d almost fucked a woman in the park like some crazy dyke. All the blood pumping down to her crotch was a witness to that. Outside was worse; she needed to get back to her apartment, where no one would be around. She needed to cloister herself again.

Panting, Casey fumbled to grab the keys to her apartment door. Keeping them on a carabiner had felt right when she was assembling her outfit but she’d never used one before tonight. At least it gave her some time to slow down and think. The urges were under control, she was in control, she was better than this.

Cracking the door open, for the first time tonight she checked her phone’s notifications. Taylor. How long had it been since she thought about him, about them together? He had sent a message, he wanted to come over and cook something nice for her while her “period” was happening. Oh god, had he let himself in? Was he here right now?

Her worst fears were immediately made apparent. The smell of food cooking, the boots at the door. He was here.

“Hey babe, I came by to bring you a care package, but you weren’t in so I decided to make you something nice,” Taylor cheerfully called from the kitchen.

He wasn’t just here, he knew she was here. Her boyfriend who she had just barely avoided cheating on was in her apartment, and waiting to see her. What could be done? How could this be escaped? He would see her and forever think of her as someone else, as this beast of a woman instead. But what was the alternative? Flee into the night? Have to explain her flight later? Have this all happen again in a month? Abandon him and slip into the bed of some sexy juicy delicious slut? No, she needed to focus, she needed to face it all now.

Casey walked into her apartment’s kitchen. Taylor was in there, heating up something that looked like chicken noodle soup, his attention on the stove. She stood in the doorway looking at him from behind. He was tall, built, and she could make out the edges of his beard. But seeing him with these eyes Casey found him tragically plain.

If anything, she and Taylor were more similar now, but that just highlighted what he lacked. She swore she was about equal in height to him now, and they were even both in flannels and jeans. But he didn’t really wear them, he just had them on. There was no cleavage peeking out his top, no shape to his ass, not a single curve to grab and squeeze and feel giving way under her grip. Was this really what she wanted? Could she go back to this, to just getting fucked by some guy, after the fantasies that had haunted her all night?

Taylor turned around and looked a bit confused.

“Cassie, is that you? You look, uh, different”, he asked.

Casey just stood there for a little bit, not connecting that name to herself.

“Ah, yeah, it’s my period outfit, don’t want to ruin any of my nice clothes”, she tried to lie. She could see Taylor not buying it as he sized her up and saw an extra few inches.

“Huh, yeah…”, he replied.

“Yeah, hormones sure can be wild! It’s kinda why I don’t normally let you over,” she said, preparing to lie again, “I don’t like the way they make me look, I feel like an orc or something”

His face softened. Either Casey’s lies where starting to work or he was responding to how upset she was.

“Ah yeah, I’m sorry babe, I just wanted to do something nice for you while you were feeling off. Didn’t mean to crash in and see something you weren’t comfortable with.”

If only he knew. Casey smiled as sincerely as she could and thanked him. Taylor’s soup was ready and he wanted to eat it with her. An outwardly normal meal followed. Small talk, frivolities, all sorts of fucking boring shit. How do you go back to this after nearly a night like she’d nearly had? After the feelings she’d felt? Normalcy, could she get it back, could she even stand it when she had it?

Maybe it was like a muscle. Casey just had to get used to this again. Maybe a tense night could give way to the wonderful return of routine. Once she forced herself past all this, and once her mind and body changed back, everything would be back to normal. She could just be into Taylor if she wanted it enough. She smiled at him from across the table as they finished the meal.

“Hey honey, I’m so happy you did this for me and would love to return your favor. Can I eat you out?” she asked.

“Eat me out?” he replied with some confusion.

“A blowjob, honey, I’m a bit of a mess downstairs thanks to my period still.”, she tried to paper over her mistake.

“Oh yeah, that sounds nice”

His acquiescence heartened her and they moved to her bedroom. It could be forced and Taylor wouldn’t be concerned. Everything from here on would be easy. Rote repetition and memory. He laid down on the bed, the bright light of the moon shining on it from up above. Silently, she cursed it once more. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was servicing her man so she could be his ordinary woman. Casey stared down at him looking up at her, she’d fix everything soon enough.

Casey shimmied Taylor’s jeans off and eyed up her prize. She could see him quickly getting hard as his cock tented his boxers. She wondered how she’d look wearing that and in his place. Casey looked up to meet his eyes, channeling her fantasy into visible enthusiasm.

“Whoa, someone’s excited tonight. More into period sex than you expected?” Taylor asked.

Casey just smiled and enveloped him. Taylor didn’t need to know why she was turned on, he only needed to know that she was turned on. Everything would be fine. She just needed to do what she’d done countless times before and lust would eventually follow.

It was mechanically easy, but the passion just wasn’t there. The taste was wrong. Not different, but a little painfully unappetizing, like she’d ordered her favorite food but the chef had messed up somewhere. At the idea of it all, something inside her roared in indignation. This wasn’t Casey, this was a pitiful imitation of Cassie. She should be fucking him, not sucking him off like some prissy whore.

A quick glance up at Taylor’s face proved that Casey’s own feelings weren’t important enough to spoil this. Only her performance mattered. She could control that. She moaned theatrically, putting on a show of the lust she couldn’t summon.

“Oh yeah babe. You’re so good at this,” Taylor moaned back.

It was working, of course it was working. Normality would soon be restored. Her experience was stronger than her instincts. She could do this. The whole process was getting easier at least. His bitter taste was swallowed up and hints of sour were seeping in. His fresher sweat from sex had begun to flow and was a far more comforting odor. Even his pubes felt less sharp. A thought threatened to form but Casey forced all of him down her thoat and everything else out of her head.

“Oh fuck babe”, Taylor moaned, “I can tell how much you want this.”

Taylor was in heaven, he’d never expected his night to go like this. Cuddling with a sad and exhausted Cassie or maybe even getting turned away at the door had felt like the breadth of possibilities going into this. Looking down however, something even more unlikely was happening under his polo.

“Uhhh babe, do you remember if I always had tits? I feel like this isn’t normally the case”, Taylor asked with concern.

Casey’s heart dropped, her blood was rushing to her own cock so fast she felt dizzy. She stood up in a panic and stared at his growing breasts, his hard nipples poking through his shirt. How was this happening? Could it be spread from any form of sex and not just via her cum? Her eyes darted over to the sheets, right next to Taylor and still wet from her evening masturbation.

“Taylor, what did you do?,” she said with terror in her voice.

“Me? What? What is happening to me?”

“You ate some of that, didn’t you? You don’t know what you’ve done.”

“What I did? Babe, I don’t know anything right now. It’s just your cum, right? There’s so much and I thought it would be hot.”

An inhuman groaning emanated from deep within Casey. She swayed back and forth, marinating in distress. He’d fucked her over, unknowingly but in a way that might as well have been fatal.

“You’ve ruined it. That’s what you’ve done. You’ve taken my last hope, my last chance of having a normal life and you’ve destroyed it. You— you fucking slut!”

“Babe, you’re scaring me.”

“You should be scared, I’m a dyke freak, I can’t even try to run from it now. God, you’re gonna be like me. You’ll have this horrible beast inside you forever—“

Taylor was silent, just looking at her. The concern of changing was honestly less of a problem for himthem than Casey’s distressing outburst. Hethey started to back up the bed, edging further away as she ranted.

A sudden hand on his ankle stopped his cautious escape. Casey was glaring at them, her eyes now a glowing yellow.

“What, you’re still scared? Don’t have the beast inside you, urging you to fuck, to take? I got that and I was a far smaller thing that you were.”, Casey taunted Taylor, motioning toward their slowly growing muscles.

They stared at her with wide eyes, not willing to respond and potentially invite more rage.

“Well I do, I’ve got it driving me like a fucking rocket. I’ve got a fire in me, driving me, and it won’t let me rest. I need to take, to fuck. I need it like I need food, or water.”

Casey crawled on top of her prey, watching their body twist and warp into a shape that she excitedly found more pleasing to her eyes. Maybe even Cassie would have enjoyed this sight. The sick humor of the curse was that Taylor was growing even bigger and stronger than they were as a man.

The attitude difference was a puzzle, however. Casey wracked her brain trying to remember if the body or the urges came first. It was the urges, right? Was she having an effect on them? Was it something similar to how she was able to get larger tits? If Taylor was going to become as ruled by a beast as she was, maybe that beast could tamed. The thought aroused Casey even more than she thought she could be. She made eye contact and licked her lips, tongue deftly maneuvering through sharp teeth like it was used to them.

Something inside Casey tried to stop her. She could have a peer, she thought, someone who understood what it was like. Someone to go through this with her every month. Casey scoffed internally at the idea, blood surging to her cock. This hadn't been an equal relationship from the start. Just because the balance of power had shifted to her didn’t mean that she should change and pursue equality now. No, it was her turn to be in control, to have them to do with as she pleased. It was only fair.

Mounted on top of them, Casey wretched Taylor’s mouth open with her hand. She spat into it a mixture of their pre and her saliva.

“Returning it to you,” Casey panted, breathing heavy with her lust, “This is what you wanted, right? It’s just something you’re going to get used to now that you’re going to be my cocksucker. You just couldn’t leave my cum alone. Well now you’re going to get more than you ever dreamed of, you stupid slut.”

Taylor’s eyes grew wide with shock, but Casey could see some want in them. They squirmed a little, trying to get out from under her, but it was futile. A soft growl came out the back of their throat.

“None of that now, babe,” Casey laughed, pushing her thumb inside their mouth and eliciting a soft moan.

She grabbed roughly at one of Taylor’s developing breasts. It was incredible, addictive, the give of their flesh, the subtle jerk of their body. She was hurting them a little but her enjoyment was what mattered here. Her other hand left Taylor’s mouth, smearing drool down their face as she grabbed their other breast. A bit strangely, it looked smaller than the one she’d been assaulting.

A thought crossed Casey’s mind. Maybe it was possible. She could influence her transformation as it happened, so why not theirs? She squeezed even harder, massaging the flesh, grabbing it from all sides and pushing it closer to the center. Taylor gritted their teeth in pain and squirmed some more, whimpering. Casey shushed them, staring intently at her work. Their breasts were getting larger, responding to Casey’s brutal pawing. Casey cackled.

“Oh, you’re like clay right now, my perfect butch slut to mold,” Casey said.

“How? What?” Taylor sputtered.

“Oh just let it happen, you’ll come out so beautiful.”

Casey’s cock pressed hard against Taylor’s, causing both of them to shiver with pleasure. She loomed over, an idea clearly having crossed her brain visible in inhumanly yellow eyes.

“Taylor, ask me to fuck you.”

“What, no. Please stop Cassie. I— uhh—”, they moaned as she put her hand around their cock. “Fine, oh fuck— I need it. Please, no anal though.”

Casey looked down with a horrible toothy grin. “You don’t have to worry about that”

She got to work quickly, pulling back and grabbing them with both hands. One pushed down while the other worked their shaft and balls. Taylor writhed with pleasure, begging ever for more as their genitals shrank down, rubbed and squeezed, rubbed and squeezed. Maybe they knew where was going but right now it was clear from their rapturous expression that they didn’t care. Under Casey’s lust-mad ministrations, they soon had a pussy instead, with her curious fingers exploring inside. Nothing had ever felt so good to them.

“Perfect for you. My butch slutdyke”

Taylor couldn’t even form a response. Their world was crashing down around them, their identity shattered. Reason was dead and desire was in Casey’s hands, the only thing real anymore as their body and mind warped was sex. The air was more pheromones than oxygen. A faint disappointment in not being the one on top, the one in control, started to slip away. What could a beast coming into being in the presence of such a fanatical top do?

Something inside broke permanently.

“Fuck me, fuck me Casey!” Taylor screamed. “I’m your slutdyke!”

Casey’s hands pulled back from Taylor’s newly formed pussy. One squeezed their breast, the other jammed into their mouth. Taylor quaffed their own juices almost violently, their eyes rolled back into their skull. It was like they’d found water after days of wandering a desert. Their body was as soft and yielding as it was powerful. An intoxicating mix.

“It’s time,” Casey said.

She jammed her cock into Taylor, penetrating them like an arrow. Whatever remaining parts left of Taylor’s sanity drowned. This was their purpose. To be a hot piece of meat and to be used. To be devoured by eye, hand, and cock. For their breasts to bounce with the force of her thrusting. An empty mind to spill out into their drool.

Something equal and opposite broke inside Casey as well. Nothing mattered more than taking, fucking, breaking. Her hips were a machine, rutting and thrusting and laying a permanent claim. All her months of denial were worthless, pointless. This was the new meaning of her life. Fucking was power was pleasure was purpose. Other women belonged at the end of her cock and it was the greatest gift she could ever give them.

Their coitus continued with duration and vigor far beyond human limits. Oh what a gift Casey had received. Nothing would ever compare to taking another woman like this. Desire was her only ruler. This wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her but it was enough for tonight.

Casey only began to stop when light began to peek through the windows, providing a perfect chance to admire her handiwork. The bed was drenched. Taylor was on another planet mentally, theirher muscular body splayed out like ragdoll in the deluge of sweat and fluids, her close cropped hair as chaotic as such a hairstyle could be. Casey was a sexual beast. She was beyond fatigue or caring for her slutdyke, her living cock receptacle, her human cumrag.

The lack of changes didn’t alarm her as the sun began to light up the room, sweat glistening on her skin. She flashed the ruined slut a vile grin, taking in her exhausted visage. Perhaps Casey would continue soon. Perhaps she would try to do something about this unexpected lack of a reversion. Looking down at herself, she scoffed at that thought. No, being stuck in this body, with these urges, was no curse now. It was the greatest pleasure she’d ever known.