The pink dress got shoved inside Jake’s closet, forgotten in the back. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about what Ella had claimed he did—not just because the idea that that could possibly have actually happened filled him with a mix of horror and hot shame, but because he kept getting flashes of recollection in his mind. They lasted only a fraction of a second, too ephemeral to glean real information from, or to hold onto, but they seemed to reinforce Ella’s story. Like whispers in the back of his head telling him he couldn’t deny it. 

Deny it he did. Jake knew exactly who he was. He was strong, masculine, and capable. The sort of guy that other guys would kill to become. This, whatever it was, wasn’t going to change that. 

And, whether it was because of his determined self-affirmation or simply just luck, the strange happenings did seem to fade. Day by day, no more bizarre lapses in memory assaulted him, and Ella took notice, happy that he seemed his normal self. Jake continued to hang out with his bros, all too eager to never mention a word of what had occurred to any of them. Thank god Ella didn’t like his friends, and avoided them whenever she could. He didn’t need to have her spilling anything he did to them.

One thorn remained in Jake’s side, unable to be ignored, however. His insatiable sexual desires were as strong as ever, but the next time he and Ella headed to the bedroom, Jake froze up again. There was some inexplicable, demanding sensation of shame that came from the idea of exposing his body to her. Ella questioned him, ever her caring, insightful self, but Jake couldn’t explain what was going on. And he certainly couldn’t tell her about the flashes of memory that struck him. To do so would be to acknowledge something was off. That he was struggling. 

That he was weak.

He pleased her. Pressing kisses all across her body, teasing her with his fingers, using his tongue to explore her inside and out. But never his cock. It throbbed in his pants in need, but Jake couldn’t stomach the sense of nausea that overwhelmed him when he considered using it. Even looking at it filled him with a heavy, suffocating feeling. 

Ella was happy though, and seeing her sheer pleasure and joy when he gave her everything she wanted made that feeling go away. A bubbly twinge filled up Jake’s chest when he looked into her eyes as they cuddled after sex. He’d never experienced it before. It felt strangely soft, even vulnerable, but he couldn’t deny that it made him feel good in a very raw way. If the boys knew about what he was going through, they’d mock him endlessly. So he said nothing. He didn’t even confide what he was feeling to Ella. But he allowed her happiness to fill him up. 

Why did removing the focus on him and his dick improve their sex life so much? Why had two years with this woman failed to evoke such strong feelings in him before now?

Midterms arrived. Despite Jake’s personal struggles, he had been on top of things with his studies, and felt confident about this exam. Going to class wearing a suit wasn’t necessary, but Jake enjoyed the feeling that came from looking like he already had the job that everyone else around him desperately wanted. It stood as a reminder: that Jake was above them, and that he knew it.

He met Kevin outside the classroom. “There’s the man of the hour,” Kevin said, nodding in greeting. “Ready for the exam?”

“You worry too much. Like there’s a chance in hell I was ever gonna struggle with this one.”

They headed into the classroom, and settled down in separate spots to do the exam. Jake spun his pen in his hand, looking over the paper with a cocky smirk. 

Things started to go wrong on the very first question. It was simple, really just there to make sure you’d paid any attention at all. But Jake couldn’t come up with the answer. He racked his brains, searching his memory, but came up empty. 

Okay, he’d just come back to it. He moved on, considering the next question, but again his memory failed him. He thought he’d known the material! And he did, of course he did. He remembered studying this stuff. Yet for some reason he couldn’t access the information he’d stayed up for nights on end memorizing! 

Jake moved onto the next question, and the next one, but it was the same story over and over again. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t get test anxiety. He wasn’t the sort of person whose brain stopped functioning under stress. Desperately, he wrote down his best guess for one of the questions, hoping against hope that it had been correct. 

Glancing up at the clock, Jake felt the blood drain from his face. He’d already lost over two thirds of the allotted time to racking his stalled-out brain. He couldn’t flunk this test! He’d been bragging to his parents about how well he’d been doing this year, about how easy this exam would be. Not only would they be disappointed, but his friends would tear him to pieces over this! 

But his brain refused to finally pull itself together. Feeling stupid, more dumb than he ever had in his life, Jake put down answers he knew weren’t right. Fuck, even his handwriting looked messy, uneven and with the swooping lettering of someone who had barely mastered English. He stared at the page, the weight of unmet expectations laying heavy in his stomach. He couldn’t hand this in. He couldn’t. 

A droplet of water fell onto Jake’s exam. He sniffled, and realized in shock that he was crying. His heart pulsed in horror, and he hurriedly wiped at his face, trying to halt the tears. No, no, he couldn’t be crying right now. In this quiet room full of business majors? In front of his friend Kevin? But he couldn’t seem to stop the waterworks. He was just so scared—of failing, of disappointing everyone, of being anything other than the man he thought he was. Scared to look stupid in front of his professor when he handed in a test full of awful handwriting and blatantly wrong answers. 

He wiped his eyes against the sleeve of his suit, and found himself cringing at the stupid dark grey fabric. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t a perfect business major, with a shoe-in into any company he wanted. He was a pathetic loser, crying at midterms. Brainless, a mocking, feminine voice whispered in his head. Girls like you shouldn’t be wearing suits.

Suddenly, Jake stood up, before he could think about it. He hurriedly pulled off his suit jacket, still crying, sniffles and sobs escaping unbidden. All eyes turned to stare at him in bewilderment as Jake threw his suit jacket aside and grabbed his test, stumbling his way to the front of the room and handing it to his professor. 

“Jake, are you—” The professor began, but Jake cut him off.

“I’m fine,” he said hoarsely. With that, he shakily walked out of the room. He didn’t glance behind him to see how Kevin was reacting to this. He didn’t think he could stomach that right now.

He had made his way outside the university by the time it occurred to him he’d left his suit jacket behind. But there was no way he was going back to get it. He fumbled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling Ella before he could think about it too much.

“Jake?” Her voice greeted him, and he immediately started to feel better. She was so nice. So good for him. 

“E- Ella, I… I need you to pick me up.” He’d intended on getting an uber back home, but he didn’t want to cry in some stranger’s car. Besides, seeing Ella right now was rapidly shifting from ‘want’ to ‘need’. It was the only thing that would soothe his aching heart.

“Whoa, Jake, are you crying? What happened, are you okay?”

She didn’t mock him. The only person he’d ever known who wouldn’t. 

“I, um…” His voice got quieter. Higher-pitched? “I just flunked the midterm.”

A pause. “Oh, baby… Okay, I’ll be right over.”

Jake was left to stand in the bitter cold, waiting for his girlfriend to arrive. The memories of the last hour tormented him, keeping his tears flowing until Ella showed up. She got out of the car, and wrapped him in a hug. He crumpled in her arms, feeling far too big, far too ungainly. Wishing he were small and dainty, so her warmth might surround him completely. 

“Come on, Jake…” She wiped away his tears, kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s go home.”

They didn’t speak as Ella drove them back, and that suited him fine. Jake didn’t know how to explain anything that had happened today. That seemed to be getting more and more common for him. Something had changed, and he had no idea what, or why.

Once they were home, Ella got him settled on the couch, and made him a hot chocolate, setting it on the coffee table near him. Finally, she pulled a blanket over him, kissing him on the head. 

“Rest up, okay, babe?”

She was doing so much for him. Suddenly, overwhelming feelings of gratitude filled up Jake’s chest, overflowing until he was crying all over again. “Y- Y- You’re so n- nice to me,” he stammered. “I don’t deserve th- this.”

Ella smiled warmly. “Of course you do.”

It still didn’t compute. “But I… I failed. Why would you be this nice after I- I failed?”

“Because I love you, dummy. Why would I make you feel worse than you already do?” She rested a hand on his. “Try and rest. I’ll be right here, working on my project. Just speak up if you need anything.”

Jake didn’t know how he’d gotten lucky enough to end up with her. Distantly, he remembered expressing similar sentiments to his bros, with the implication that her sexual talents were on par with his sexual desires. But now, that feeling was morphed into something completely new. Now, Jake was certain that he had never deserved Ella. She was far too good for him, and somehow, she still chose to stay with him, despite everything that was going on with him lately.

He only got a few sips into the hot chocolate before the crying subsided and sleep decided to take him. It was easy to surrender to it, letting his mind drift away…

~

Mistress’s skin was so soft and pretty. Selena could spend all day doing nothing but worshipping it, getting lost in the sensation of it pressed against her lips. She caressed Mistress’s thigh, dotting kisses along her bare leg.

A tug on her leash. Selena stopped, looking up to meet Mistress’s gaze. Her eyes were so pretty, dazzling, like diamonds, and Selena wanted nothing more than to stare, transfixed. 

Mistress gave Selena a look, and a nudge against her brain.

“Th- Thank you for letting me worship you, Mistress!” Selena exclaimed. Her brain was slow, stupid, just the way Mistress liked it, but she knew that she needed to add more. Mistress always liked her to be specific with her professions of gratitude. “You’re incredibly gracious, to allow your slut to put her undeserving lips upon your beautiful skin!”

“Good girl,” Mistress intoned, her voice melodic. Selena shivered in joy, the words of approval more intoxicating than sexual pleasure could ever be.

“Thank you MIstressssssahhhhnnn~” Selena moaned, as Mistress scritched her head, treating her like the pet she was. 

“Up, on your feet,” Mistress ordered.

Mistress’s orders were like commands directly input into Selena’s brain. She had no opportunity to even consider disobeying (not that she ever would). Her muscles simply did as ordered, and she was on her feet in moments.

Standing as well, Mistress guided Selena through the house by her leash, and Selena happily complied, her brain enveloped in a fog of stupidity and bliss. They arrived at a mirror, and Mistress positioned Selena in front, so she was framed in the reflective glass. Selena beamed—good girls maintained a smile when they were being obedient. 

Mistress seemed to be considering Selena’s outfit as she looked her over in the mirror. Selena was wearing a pink maid dress, trimmed in frilly white, with a heart-shaped window to the chest, and pretty white thigh highs with bows at the top. In short, Selena looked like a slut—eye candy for any girl to get off to. 

She resisted a pout as she noticed some imperfections. Her jaw, too wide, with the faint hint of stubble on her lip. Her chest, flat, without any flesh for other girls to grope. Her hips, too thin. And of course, the thing between her legs… Other girls seemed happy to have one of those, but Selena didn’t like it. She wanted there to be a hole there, so she could be fucked in even more places.

“Don’t worry, pet,” Mistress purred, reading Selena’s mind. “Your body is changing, slowly. Before long, you’ll be the girl you were always meant to be.”

~

Jake jolted awake. Between his legs, a throbbing boner pressed against his slacks. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. What kind of a dream had that been? He’d never in his life dreamed something as degenerate as that. Nor had something so degenerate ever evoked so horny a response from him.

“Jake? Are you okay?” Ella stood up, clearly noticing that he was out of sorts.

“What? Y- Yeah! Of course! Of course I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Her eyes narrowed on his no doubt extremely red face.

“… I just… had a dream. That’s all.” Thank god the blanket covered his boner, which refused to fade.

“Alright… Well, you look kind of sweaty. And that tie doesn’t look comfortable. Why don’t you go change? I’ll get started on supper.”

Once again, he felt incredibly grateful for her. Nodding, he waited for her to get busy in the kitchen before getting up and shuffling to the bedroom. The boner was finally going down, though it put up a fight as his mind kept returning to the contents of his dream. It had all felt so… real, in a way that dreams didn’t usually. Almost like it was a memory. It was so bizarre. 

“Why the fuck does this turn me on so much,” Jake muttered, hating how addictive his recollection of the dream was.

He threw off his tie, and then shrugged off his button-up. They felt disgusting. Clothes that weren’t meant for him. More important, clothes that he didn’t want. A visceral hatred bubbled up from within, sensitive, in pain. No more of this. This vain performance of masculinity. The crushing pressure of everything he’d promised he’d become. 

Nakedness was worse. He quickly dug through his closet for something to cover himself up with, but it was all more of the same shit. Masculinity, masculinity, and yet more masculinity. He stumbled to a stop as he found the pink dress. 

No. No, not that. A different kind of fear bubbled up as he considered it, and he quickly shoved that aside too. Finally, he found a hoodie that was too big for him. He didn’t even know where he’d gotten it. He threw it on, but jolted as it started to chafe his nipples. 

What the fuck, why were they so sensitive? 

Gritting his teeth, he instead put on a tank top underneath, and then wore the hoodie over top. That felt a bit better. He then dug out some sweatpants and swapped them out for his slacks, and finally he felt his tension subside. 

When he headed back out, Ella greeted him warmly, and he felt a stab of guilt for letting her make dinner all on her own. In their household, they’d come to an agreement months ago: he paid for the groceries, and she cooked. That was the compromise. Yet now that wouldn’t stand. Jake wanted to do more. His girlfriend was being so wonderful, more than she had any right to be, and he needed to do something to make up for it.

After dinner, they went to the bedroom. They hadn’t had sex in weeks, and though Jake was still feeling pent up from that dream, he knew that there was no way he’d be getting over whatever weird mental block had been stopping him so far. Instead, he and Ella simply cuddled, sweet and slow, her fingers running through his black locks.

“Hair’s getting longer,” she observed idly.

It was, wasn’t it? His hair had been short basically his entire life, but he’d let it slip longer and longer these last months. Strangely, he had no desire to change it. 

“I… think I like it that way,” he murmured. An admission. Vulnerable, more than he was used to revealing. But Ella felt safe. 

“Yeah?” She said, voice soft. Not judgmental. She kissed his forehead. 

He nodded… and then pressed his face into her chest. Burying it, so he didn’t have to see her expression for this next part. “Ella… What’s happening to me?”

“What… do you mean, Jake?”

The name bothered him. “I mean, all of this… I’ve been different, obviously you’ve noticed. We don’t have sex anymore, because of my sudden hangups. I’ve been seeing you differently too, and you’ve commented that you like how I’m paying better attention to you and being a better boyfriend. I didn’t even know I was doing a bad job of those things until recently. I just… I’m not sure what happened. It…” He took in a breath. “It scares me.”

She was silent for a moment, probably processing what he’d said. “I wish I knew why you were changing. But, I mean, is it really a bad thing? People change sometimes, Jake. It’s just life. And as far as I can see, you’re becoming a better person.”

He raised his head, objecting. “How can you say that? Aren’t you annoyed that we don’t have sex anymore? Aren’t you bothered that your boyfriend’s turned into a giant wimp all of a sudden?”

“Well… To be honest Jake, sex with you before wasn’t great. Most of the time it just felt like you were only interested in getting yourself off, and you ignored me after you got that. Plus, you were pretty insatiable. It got kind of tiring after a while.”

It was like an icicle to his heart. “…I really was an asshole before, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe… But there was enough good in you that I wanted to stay with you. And right now… it’s finally shining through. You’re not a wimp, Jake. You’re just a person. A person with fears and worries and needs and flaws like anyone else. It’s not a crime to admit that. And if there’s anyone you should feel okay admitting them to, it’s your girlfriend.” She smiled sheepishly. “At least, I hope I’ve made you feel comfortable enough to be able to do that.”

“Of- Of course you have! Ella, you’re honestly the best girlfriend I’ve ever had. You’re an amazing, beautiful person, inside and out, and I- I’m shocked you’ve put up with me for so long.”

“Don’t put yourself down so much,” she chided gently, and then kissed him sweetly. 

The two of them contented themselves with cuddling for a while. Jake’s hands were on her waist, so thin and petite. He wished he was as small as her. He hated how big he felt. Odd… before, all he could think about was how his size and stature made him attractive and masculine. Now, all he could feel was disgust about it.

Eventually, their quiet silence was interrupted by the buzzing of Jake’s phone. Oh, right. He’d set it there after changing, and recalled briefly seeing that Kevin had texted him. Of course he had. Jake had had a mental breakdown in the middle of the exam. Obviously Kevin was going to poke him about that. Or, more likely, make fun of him.

Reluctantly, Jake grabbed his phone and opened it.

Oh, no. It was his dad.

Dad: I had better be seeing things. 22%? If you seriously got this grade, you’re a dead man.

Jake felt his heart threaten to shatter. Panic gripped him, like cold hands on his shoulders. His breathing quickened, and Ella frowned in concern. “Jake, what’s wrong?”

He numbly showed her the text.

“Oh, shit…” she said.

Tears started to leak out from his eyes, before he could even think to stop them. Ella held him close, but it wasn’t enough. Why? Why did things have to be this way? His perfect life, gone—or maybe it had never been real. Why couldn’t he be the man he was before? Why didn’t he want to be? 

Why couldn’t I be that girl in my dream? A small part of him wondered. She was so happy… taken care of… Wouldn’t it be nice to be her?