The Spontaneous Gender-Reversal Of Alan Littlesby

by SlutWriter

Summary:

An epic about a high school boy who learns he has a rare gender-swapping medical condition... and the reactions of his hung jock friends once the change occurs!

When Alan Littlesby becomes Alice Littlesby, their world gets turned upside down!

Notes:

This work is a commission.

“S.G.R.” Alan said, looking up from the paper that Doctor Celine had somberly handed him. Doctor Celine was an attractive woman who filled out her lab coat in formidable ways - long black hair, glasses, a tie that dove down between her breasts and vanished. But right now, fantasies about hooking up with her were the furthest thing from Alan Littlesby’s mind. In fact, his penis felt as limp as a strand of overcooked pasta. Despite its flaccidity, he was acutely aware of it, resting against the inside of his thigh.

He might never see it again.

Those three initials that had so overtaken the public consciousness and the conversation around gender.

S.

G.

R.

Spontaneous. Gender. Reversal.

“And this test… there’s no way it can be wrong?” Alan said. His voice barely felt like his. He had read the rate of the disease were one in a million . Fewer than five-thousand cases were known in medical literature, less than five-hundred in the United States. 

“Any test has a tiny chance of being wrong,” Doctor Celine replied, crossing her legs. He was wearing leggings. Normally Alan would be fantasizing about seeing those legs in all manner of lovely positions. Now, he was chaste as a babe. “That’s why we tested you twice. And all the markers are there.”

Alan knew the markers. The disease was a cultural phenomenon, and seemed to strike men and women a few years after puberty, between the ages of fourteen and twenty. Weeks of elevated body temperature, without explanation, was the most common sign. Then, tenderness around the nipples and genitals. For males, a thinning of body hair. Aches in the abdomen. He’d experienced all these over the previous months, at first dismissing the symptoms and then growing increasingly worried about them. 

It was impossible to ignore SGR, it was all over the news. It was not lost on trans people and those with gender dysmorphia that it was the answer to all of their prayers - a way to finally live in a body that felt comfortable to them. Conservative commentators called it a symptom of the breakdown of traditional gender roles. There had been attempts to stop the spontaneous change from occurring - patients monitored constantly until the cell cascade was detected - but they had so far resulted in terrible trauma to tissues that left the unfortunate ‘victims’ more disfigured than they ever would have considered themselves if they’d just allowed the change to happen.

The Change . That phrase had been coined on the cover of Time magazine. Go to sleep male. Wake up female. (Or vice-versa.) Wake up aching, in a puddle of sweat, not knowing your own strange body, but otherwise unharmed. Alan couldn’t believe it was going to happen to him.

“Oh my god,” he said, and buried his face in his hands. Doctor Celine gave him a sympathetic look and pushed a box of tissues toward him. Alan was loath to take one. Cry? Like a… like a…

Like a girl?

He pushed the thought away from himself. Alan had never been particularly manly, but he’d worked hard to get in with the macho crowd of popular boys at school. He was sixteen, stood five-foot-eight, and was in good enough shape to run track at Horford High… though his fair, freckled skin would burn and feel around the face and ears after even the shortest time in the sun. When one of the boys had called him ‘bitch-tits’ as a freshman, Alan had worked hard to get into better shape. He had always been hyper-aware of what other boys thought of him. Now, it seemed, he had finally earned their trust enough to join in the bull sessions about which girls had huge jugs and which ones would probably give good blowjobs, instead of being the odd one out.

Now, he was really, really going to be the odd one out! 

Alan thought he was pretty good friends with those guys… but they had been making vicious jokes about SGR ever since the first cases started to appear! Nobody really knew anything about the disease, or whatever it was, which left plenty of room for brash, jock-cultured boys to make things up. The foremost thought was that male-to-female SGR cases were really just trans and closet-gay boys who really wanted to suck huge amounts of enormous dick. While sitting around playing video games and roaming the school halls, in locker rooms and at track practice, Alan had laughed at these jokes himself and even made a few. Hell, the boys he tended to hang around with - Martin, Kevin, Luke - were some of the most popular - and homophobic - of the bunch. If someone crushed someone else in a race, the joke was that the loser’s cock would probably turn into a pussy overnight. And if someone was putting in really half-assed effort? It was: “Hey, check his shorts for a pussy!”

Same for women, except in reverse. If a girl was succeeding at track, the joke was she ‘must have grown a dick’. Alan had heard a million variations of this, and the national and worldwide discourse on it was absolute madness. In the most high profile case, a formerly-female pop star had switched to male… and in the gender-fluid world of entertainment, was now more popular than ever.

Others were not so lucky - especially in less progressive countries. But so far, the only surefire way to avoid the disease was to be pregnant. No cases among pregnant women had ever been recorded. Of course… this wasn’t an option for Alan.

“I’m screwed,” Alan blurted, and slumped forward in his chair, face in hands. His copper colored hair feathered down and felt to him, in that moment, rather girly in its length and silkiness. His lips felt plumper. His eyelashes longer. Even his butt, stuck in the doctor’s office chair, felt rounder. Surely, just his imagination! 

Doctor Celine, still maintaining her bedside manner, held out another sheet of paper in Alan’s direction. “These are some resources. What we call ‘Adjustment Counseling’.” Alan did not move, did not take the paper. She only held it out, silently, and waited for him to come to grips. “You’re only sixteen, Alan. You have a long life ahead of you.” 

“Did you tell my parents?” Alan asked.

“We’ll leave it up to you, how and when to tell them. But… obviously, with the nature of how SGR progresses, it will become obvious to them fairly soon. If you anticipate trouble at home because of it, we have other social resources-”

Alan shook his head angrily. “Nothing like that.” His mom and dad, he suspected, would probably be accepting of the idea. That almost made him more angry. He tried to imagine himself getting a pep talk from his father (a teacher) and his mother (an accountant) about the impending arrival of his tits and vagina, and couldn’t. It sounded absolutely miserable. They were nice enough parents, but they had no idea of the social circle he was in. Martin, Kevin, Luke… those guys… they were going to be merciless. Hell, at Horford High you couldn’t even accidentally look at another dude’s junk in the showers without being called a ‘faggot’ for two days.

“This isn’t fair,” Alan sulked.

“No,” Doctor Celine said. “It isn’t.”

 

---

 

Alan told his parents, but not anyone else. The conversation went about as well as he expected. His father gave a speech about how he’d love him ‘no matter what’, and then sheepishly appended it to ‘well, him or her ’. His mother offered to take him clothes shopping once ‘things switched around’. Parental awkwardness aside, they made an agreement that they would get through it together, mentioning nothing about any school problems. Nothing about how the boys on the track team and football team were making constant jokes about SGR being “homo-itis” or based on latent desires to to take massive dicks up the ass. That burden, sixteen-year-old Alan Littlesby would suffer alone.

He began to go over his body with a fine-tooth comb every morning in the mirror. Were those nipples a little puffy? No, just his imagination. Was his hair growing longer with surprising speed? It seemed like it… but according to the literature, this was another psycho-somatic symptom. That was the thing about SGR… aside from the elevated body temperature, tender privates and a bit of a tummy ache, it came out of nowhere . Alan had no idea what night would be his last as a boy.

He ran track like a demon, lifted weights like he was training for the Olympics, and spent as much time screwing around with the guys as he could. He compensated for his impending femininity by linking images of hot bitches in their online chats and making bawdy remarks about female students with a little too much gusto. Martin, one of the biggest meatheads at school, even commented on it, suggesting that Alan was acting alpha enough to ‘get some serious pussy’.

Buddy , thought Alan, you don’t know the half of it .

But Martin was six-foot-three already, one year older, and already popular with the girls because of his amazing physique and status as a star football player. Kevin was the blonde-haired hunk, Luke was a defensive back who had college recruiters looking already; with athletic gifts that Alan could never hope to match. It had been his dream to get in good with those guys, go to the same parties, meet the same girls. He had just started to semi-succeed, too. But that was about to come crashing down.

One afternoon, following an after-school weight session, the topic actually turned to whether any of them would fuck someone who had gone male-to-female SGR, and Alan found himself in the surreal position of listening to them jaw about it.

“Yeah man,” Martin said, finishing up a set with a dumbbell that seemed the size of a baby dolphin. “A bitch is a bitch, you know? It ain’t like some man who got an operation. They got the tits, the pussy-”

“Fuck yeah,” Kevin added. He was, and had always been, Martin’s henchman - blue-eyed, blonde-haired, a pretty boy with a mean streak. He even served as backup quarterback. “Some of them look pretty fucking good. They don’t have the man-hands, you know?”

“Totally. No Adam’s apple, no man hands. And it changes their minds too, right?” Luke spoke up. “That’s what I heard. Like one day they were a man, but the next day they totally want hella dick.”

That’s not true , Alan thought but didn’t say. There was no evidence of any mental changes whatsoever - at least, according to the talking heads on TV. But people aren't just people in a vacuum, they are people existing in a society. And in the back of his mind, Alan - who had been doing more reading on SGR than on any subject he’d ever studied in his young life - wondered just how much the expectations of being a woman might change a formerly male personality.

After all, if you’ve got tits and a pussy… certain types might expect you to use them. He glanced over at his ‘friends’. Their compression tights. Their bulging muscles. Suddenly, the thick bulges in their crotch areas seemed less a point of aspiration (Alan himself was a ‘late bloomer’ and hoping to catch up before college) and more a looming threat. He had seen Martin in the showers. Nine inches, at least. Flaccid. A serious hammer. Kevin was just behind at eight. And Luke… well, his cock had to be nine inches too, and black as midnight in Persia, thank you very much. How often they had laughed about which cheerleader had come down with ‘jungle fever’ or been ‘BLACKED’. Luke even jokingly kept tally.

Alan pushed the thoughts away from his mind and tried to focus on his workout. He mostly succeeded, too, until he heard his name called.

“What about you, Alan?” Martin teased. “You down for some transformer pussy? Shit is more than meets the eye.” Alan felt his heart leap and immediately blushed red. His brain screamed HE KNOWS as loud as it could. But that was impossible. No one could know, and there were no outward physical signs. He rapidly tried to collect himself, but in his nervous mind, even this - the blushing, the hesitation, the fluster - seemed very feminine.

“Hell yeah,” he managed. “I’ll give him a high-five one day and then bend him over the next!” That his voice got through it without cracking was a minor miracle.

They all burst out laughing. But Alan’s laugh was very hollow indeed.

 

---

 

The change came just as he was growing weary of waiting for it. Two weeks, three, a month. Each night he was hyper-vigilant and had trouble sleeping, sure he would close his eyes as Alan Littlesby, teenage boy , and open them as Alan Littlesby, teenage girl . It was nearly winter - seven weeks after his diagnosis, when it happened. Just as he was permitting himself to hope that the diagnosis had been wrong. That was the unkindest twist of all. His first good night’s sleep in months… and then… 

Bang. Just like that.

At first Alan thought he had wet the bed. That was how much sweat was soaking his sheets. Then he remembered. He did not move at first; only squinted his eyes shut and took a deep inhale and exhale. He could feel hair plastered to his neck, but his hair had been pretty long anyway. He was afraid to move, afraid even to breathe, fearing that the rise and fall of his chest would cause some new, unfamiliar part of his anatomy to brush the disheveled bed covers. He had gone to bed wearing loose pajama bottoms and no shirt. He was flat on his back. He didn’t search for new sensations, he didn’t want to feel them.

After what seemed like five minutes but was probably thirty seconds, Alan brushed a hand up his side and toward his chest. He had barely a moment to register something about his arm - slightly less muscle mass - before he ran into the first real obstacle. A big, soft, smooshy obstacle.

“Oh, fucking shit!” Alan blurted. His hand hadn’t just encountered a nub or even a palm-sized swell. There was a huge blob of flesh protruding from right chest, round as a scoop of ice-cream… and with so much bouncy, squeezy volume, the flesh poured right through his fingers!

His eyes burst open. He couldn’t even see in front of himself. There were two of them, and they were huge!

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Alan moaned. He jostled his body left. They swayed left and then settled back into position, jiggling enticingly. He had always been fair-skinned with more than a few freckles (especially when he got some sun), and that made what he was looking at resemble an enormous pair of marshmallows… with a sprinkling of cinnamon. “Shit!” he concluded. Without thinking, he did what anyone would do and reached up to grab them… and immediately gasped. They were soft, pliable, heavy… and unbelievably sensitive! A shot of pleasure immediately zapped through his unfamiliar body, centering on… on…

“Nnngh!” Alan blurted. There was a button down there that seemed to be connected to all sorts of stuff . Where once had been a protruding and vulnerable extension that needed to be protected at all costs, now existed a vertical crescent that gave off a very different sensation - the sensation of inner workings and quivering passages and strange anatomy tucked away within unexplored tubes and causeways. And it all seemed to be crackling and humming and warm!

“Fffffnnngh!” Now he became aware of the change in his voice. Higher, flightier, more melodic. He barely recognized himself. He frantically swung his legs up and off the bed, bursting to his feet… and felt a rush of air on the sweat-soaked flesh of his backside. The alien flesh bags on his chest jiggled importantly and perked as the air slid over his nipples… which were much larger than before - hell, it looked like a family of babies could feast there for weeks and never go hungry.

But the pants indicated another problem. They had torn at the middle seam, leaving a flapping opening. But why? He reached behind himself and again encountered flesh where he didn’t expect it. Bouncy, smooth, curvy, soft skin that seemed to swell out from his hips in behind like the body of a bass cello!

“Oh, fuck no!” he wailed, and then, finally, for the first time that morning, swung his head to look at the mirror that was attached to his dresser. It had been less than two minutes since he woke up, it felt like a lifetime.

Looking back at him was not Alan Littlesby… but a big-breasted, bubbly, freckled, red-headed, nearsighted, wide-hipped…. girl!

Amy Littlesby, if you will. Or perhaps Amelia . Alan picked up his glasses from the night table and held them over his eyes. The evidence came into focus. Not only was Alan a girl, but… what a girl!

“This is bullshit!” Alan moaned. All the time spent lifting weights, doing cardio, hoping that when the change came, it would result in very much the same body type - a body that could still pass as male. The end result was nothing close to that. Alan turned and looked back over a shapely shoulder. 

My ass is huge! And these boobs… I can still see them from behind! 

There was no denying it. In spite of efforts to maintain masculinity, the newly-formed girl was cute as a button - light eyes, freckles, copper hair, fair skin - and had tits and ass that would be impossible to hide. Not to mention the most buried of ledes - the penis that had served faithfully through so midnight fantasies, jerk-sessions, even an inaugural first blowjob (Susan LeFarge, basement couch, watching Avengers: Endgame, eight months before)... was fucking gone!

Gone, and replaced by a cunt mount that was as plump and voluptuous as the rest of… her .

“Oh, I’m fucked. I’m fucked. They’re going to… those guys-”

There was a short knock on the door, and his mother opened it and peeked in. “Alan? Are you okay?”

Alan nearly fell over his bed as he stumbled backward. He had lowered his torn pants to examine the changes, and now they tangled around his legs. His mother gasped, then let out a screech of alarm: “Oh, Alan! Has it happened?”

His father’s footsteps in the hall. “Everybody stay calm,” he said, in his ‘take charge’ voice. “We knew this day would come.”

He, too, poked his head in the door, looking remarkably like the former Alan, only twenty-five years older, moustachio’d, his red hair thinning, his glasses a little thicker. He fixed his eyes on Alan. “It’s going to be-”

His voice trailed off and his eyes widened. “Good gracious,” he said. His eyes were immediately drawn to the enormous, jiggling, bouncing teenage tits of the pants-tangled former boy. How many times had the phrase “he’d lost a son, but gained a daughter” been written in melodramatic novels? Never had it been more appropriate.

Pamela Littlesby gave her husband a slap on the shoulder. “Robert!” she scolded. “Just what are you staring at!?” Her face was accusatory.

“Nothing!” But the staring didn’t stop, and whatever pep talk the Littlesby family patriarch had been about to give, it was forgotten. “I… uh…” 

He blinked dumbfoundedly. Pamela slapped his shoulder again. “Goddamn it, Robert!”

The former Alan was thinking that perhaps crawling into a hole and dying of embarrassment would be a good alternative. Desperately he waved them away. “Get out!” he cried, sounding even to his own ears like an angry girlfriend. “Get out of here!” And to emphasize the point he threw the nearest object, one of his school textbooks.

It clonked against the wall. The door slammed shut. Alan could tell they were still outside. “Sorry, son,” his father said, apologetically. “Err… daughter. Well, you know. Whatever you want to be called - we haven’t really talked about it-”

“Robert! Let’s give Alan his space!” his mother insisted, and soon the sound of receding footsteps came. “We’ll be right downstairs, Alan,” she added. “If you need anything, or you want to talk.”

Alan slumped back against the edge of his bed. Soaked in sweat, nearly nude, trying to come to grips. There was something else, though. His mother had been carrying something when she entered the room, and had dropped it in her haste to exit. Now, Alan saw it was nestled by the door. He rose, crawled over to the door - his breasts swaying like hammock-bound bowling balls - and picked it up.

A Horford high school uniform. A girl’s Horford high school uniform, complete with skirt and blazer. He turned the blazer over to inspect the name tag. There, embroidered on the lapel in cursive was a name:

Alice .

 

---

 

‘Alice’ wished very hard against her own becoming in those first two weeks. She tried dressing in her old jeans, school slacks and shorts, hopeful that she could pull off a look that at least bordered on androgynous. It was laughably inept. Her breasts were so big, her hips so curvy and her bottom so bubbly that she couldn’t pull a single pair of pants up over the jiggly, bouncy, overhanging shelf of her big pale ass. Every shirt was almost as useless. Her feet had shrunk several sizes; resulting in a bout of denial, several blisters, and then a bout of shoe-shopping while wearing an oversized hoodie and sweats.

Even that ensemble had received leering stares from more than one department store employee. Then came an unexpected moment of truth - the sudden furious need to go to the bathroom. Alice instinctively walked into the room with the ‘male’ icon on the door, and was immediately confronted by a mocking row of pristine urinals. Looking forlornly down at her barren crotch, she ultimately decided to migrate to the ‘female’ side, settling down to do business that still seemed strange while feeling strangely like a peeping tom. She had tried to recall any other time being in a woman’s bathroom and couldn’t.

She looked at herself in the mirror often. The change had done nothing to fix her eyesight - her glasses now gave her a dismayingly cute ‘big sister’ look. Bras were impossible at first. And her bottom was so big and round, even the most modest panties were instantly turned into clinging, hip-hugging fap material.

Not that she had anything to fap with. Alice, on more than one occasion, wondered with alarm if she might be attracted to herself , and in the first days adjusting, her new body became a playground. Boobs poured through clenching, teasing fingers. Digits explored tentatively in orifices previously unknown. Half-hoping for disgust, or a sexless lack of interest, Alice found with more than a little embarrassment that the sensations she was able to tease from her new erogenous zones were… fairly amazing. Still, she stopped short of any major penetration - when the thought first entered her mind, the memory of the catcalling and lewd jokes in the workout room gave her pause.

She could still hear Martin’s voice. Damn, did you see Kelsey’s dress? She wants her guts rearranged for sure. Wanting to be penetrated, in other words, put one squarely in the category of ‘prey’.

She could have kept the name ‘Alan’. But looking in the mirror, it seemed ridiculous. She did not look like Alan, not anymore. She looked like ‘Alice’, an almost absurdly voluptuous teenage girl with freckles and carrot-colored hair. Pamela Littlesby had offered to embroider any name at all on the Horford blazer - Alice, she said, had just been a suggestion to show their acceptance - but the former Alan Littlesby told her not to bother.

Alice seemed to fit. Nothing else had been under her control - why should her name be? Or maybe it was the association with a trip down the rabbit hole, a strange journey in an unfamiliar land. That was certainly what high school had become.

The changes were apparent from day one, even with all of Alice’s peers walking on eggshells as she tiptoed the halls, blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact. Some of the more popular girls had volunteered to give her a ‘makeover’ once her condition had become known, and not only gave a crash course in applying makeup but also tailored her school uniform to her rather unique specifications. At first, Alice had tentatively welcomed the attention. Hot girls! Sleepover vibes! It was an up-close and personal look at all those untouchable beauties that her former male self had been crowing about with friends during their macho iron-pumping sessions. 

At the very least, she hoped for a resurgence of serious hound-dog style horniness, confirming she was, at the very least, still interested in women. But that never came. Instead, a natural sort of shyness and timidity overwhelmed her as the girls pinched, prodded, and measured. And when gossip invariably turned to boys - a conversation fading in and out over the rush of a hair dryer - Alice found herself not ogling the boobs of her halter-top-wearing female peers but rather engaged in conversation about… cock!

“You should ask Alice,” one of the girls teased. “She was on the track team! She probably saw Martin in the shower plenty of times.” They gathered around like hags, conjuring information out of Alice’s furiously blushing face. “So… how big is it?”

“I bet he’s got a huge dick!” another girl blurted.

“Does he go for big tits, or asses? Gosh, if only I was as lucky as Alice!”

Alice spent the rest of the evening trying to shrink into her chair and disappear. The fact was, there had been no lesbian lewdness of any kind, nothing to affirm her prior sexuality. Not even so much as a playful boob-grab. But the girls sure did love talking about sex… and boys… and the physiques of the hottest guys on the football team - three of whom were Martin, Kevin, and Luke… his three old friends!

Alice avoided the cock question. But she could not avoid the thoughts the questions seemed to uncover, like erosion on an ancient riverbank might turn up an artifact or two. How many times had he seen those big, sweaty, hanging, heavy-nutted jock dicks, banging and swinging in the shower? Fat testicles flopping against the insides of thighs. Water running off slick, hose-like lengths of meat. Hell, she had once aspired, and hoped, to be sporting some serious sausage herself! Now, that was nothing but bitter irony… and a brain full of troubling cock memories.

It took only one tingle in her pussy, one slight sensation of hardening nipples, before Alice made an excuse, an apology, gave her thanks for the makeover… and then bid her new gaggle of ‘friends’ goodnight. That had been two days before her triumphant return to the halls of Horford High.

The moment of truth.

Walking down the hall for the first time (as a girl) felt surreal to Alice. As Alan, she’d hoped that people would look her way, take some sort of notice. Alan Littlesby had wanted girls to look at him the same way they looked at Martin, at Kevin, and at Luke. Now, Alice Littlesby only hoped to escape notice. Yet in her blazer and skirt, carrying a tote-bag over one shoulder, peering nervously through glasses that had serious Velma energy, carroty hair tied back tight with two pigtails trailing behind, freckles doing nothing to obscure reddening face, it seemed impossible to escape notice.

She was unbelievably cute . 

Plus… the school uniform had no chance of hiding her physical ‘gifts’. Alice thought forlornly of internet memes as the gentle clapping of her ass-cheeks seemed to echo with every step. Feet that had once been calloused from track meets were now dainty and petite in their buckled shoes and knee socks tapped away at the marble floors of the Horford High hallways. And there was a rhythm to walking as a girl, one Alice couldn’t escape. She would plant one foot, shift her body forward… and then… the jiggling. Her momentum would cause buttocks to bounce and her huge tits to wobble inside her blazer. Even tied down in a bra, they seemed to have a mind of their own.

It felt like everyone was leering. It was impossible to ignore the whispers… and the looks! The girls who had so ‘generously’ made Alice over in the prior days looked a lot less charitable now that their boyfriends were getting an eyeful of that bounce-a-dime-off-it teenage booty. And the voluptuousness had come from nowhere, that was the maddening thing! As a boy, Alan had worked devilishly hard to have visible abs. It had come naturally to him. But Alice… well, she had a little something to grab on to! The waistband of her panties (wearing panties had, of course, been mindfuck number 647 on the list of thousands) cut deliciously into the pale, grabbable layer of chub in her midsection.

Alice still had the same first classes, the same teacher assignments. And, most crucially, the same locker. A locker in the west hall, near the locker rooms and gymnasium, right next to Martin, Kevin, and Luke. Some people had tentatively reached out during her absence, wondering if she was okay. But the jocks had not. They weren’t the ‘reaching out’ type. As a result, Alice had no idea what they would be thinking.

The coast seemed to be clear at first. Only after she had unshouldered her book tote (frustratingly cute; it was Alice’s curse that every accessory seemed to take her further away from the ‘manliness’ she had once coveted) did the shadows fall. Alice made a peeping noise utterly unlike any sound from her previous life.

“Hey, Alan.” 

Martin’s voice. Low and intimidating. They had snuck up on her; Alice had been keeping an eye out to the left and right, but the boys had come from the entrance to the gymnasium, which was directly behind. Alice turned and pressed her back against her locker. All three of them were surrounding her - Kevin on the left, Martin middle, Luke right. Fresh from a morning workout. Their skin smelled of sweat. Powerful, athletic seventeen-year-old boys in runners, athletic tape and sleeveless Under Armour gear.

“Uh… hey guys,” Alice managed. The air was thick with the scent of maleness; it was overpowering and seemed to press in from all directions. Alice’s glasses began to fog up from the heat radiating from their freshly-tested muscles. She squeezed back further against the locker but there was nowhere to go.

“Are you still gonna be on the track team?” Luke asked, simply. They were all looking down at her. Alice peered up from her lower vantage. She searched for any sign that they were joking at her expense, but their faces seemed earnest. Expressionless. They were more reserved than usual - they weren’t laughing or joking or telling stories about tits and ass - but neither were they teasing her.

Alice shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I don’t know,” she mused. “Things have… you now. Changed.” She did not have to add hey guys, my body isn’t as aerodynamic as it used to be. Even with the world’s greatest sports bra I can only imagine what I would look like trying to run the hundred-yard dash .

The boys nodded ruefully. “Cool,” Martin said, simply. He leaned forward and braced a hand above Alice’s shoulder, leaning in. “Well, it’s all good, dude. What about coming to the gym after school?”

Alice’s nervousness increased. Martin was close enough that she could smell his musk and body spray. His powerful bicep was rippling with muscle. “Uh… well-”

“Come on,” Luke urged, gently. His voice was a bass note. “Nothing’s changed as far as we’re concerned.”

Alice blinked, unsure of what to say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Luke’s compression tights were low on his hips; revealing an ebony iliac and rippling row of abdominal muscles that formed a cobblestone path down to a serious bulge. It looked like someone had bought a length of kielbasa and coiled it up down there.

“Yeah,” Martin reassured. “You still like working out, right? Gotta see what you can do, now that… well, you know.” He gestured toward Alice with open palms.

So what, Alice thought. So what, he’s got a big, fat dick. This isn’t any different, I have seen these guys naked in the shower plenty of times. Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed! I never cared before and I don’t care now!

And then, a smaller voice: Had he never cared before? Was it true that there had been no prior pecker checking? Had his transformation brought certain latent interests to the surface?

“I’ll be there!” Alice warbled. The words got stuck in her mouth out of pure nerves and seemed to squeak out. She busily took her first-period textbooks from her bag and pushed through the boys, squeezing between Martin and Luke, not realizing until it was too late that her tits were totally bulging against the blonde boy’s rippling ribcage, and her thick ass was totally sliding against Martin’s hip, hell his thigh muscle was burrowing so deep between those cheeks he might as well have been prospecting for gold, her mind screaming at her nice work Alice, ten minutes at school and your already rubbing dudes off with your tits and ass !

The three jocks watched her go, lifting hands in farewell when Alice gave one last nervous look over her shoulder and turned the corner.

She did not see them turn their wave into a series of smirking high-fives.

 

---

 

Alice’s gym clothing was no less alarming than her school uniform. Her large ass turned what should have been a pair of roomy shorts into tight-fitting bloomers… and even with a sports bra, her white tee-shirt left disturbingly little of her chest to the imagination. After changing, she considered skipping the promised after-school meet altogether. But that seemed like cowardice, in a way - an admission that her former friends represented some sort of sexual threat.

“It’s just a workout,” she said to herself, before looking down at her crotch and spotting a considerable camel toe. “Shit!” She frantically straightened her shorts. “God, my ass is so huge! It throws everything out of whack!” Even the motion of her shorts and panties against her crotch produced a tingling sensation she was bound by self-respect and stubbornness to ignore. She had decided - she would go in, lift a few weights, see what her new body was capable of… swap a few jokes with the guys, and then leave.

And what if they started making jokes about tits? And ass? And swapping stories about who had blown them the night before, who was fucking who, who was next on their ‘hit list’ among the cheerleaders, which female teacher was hottest? How would Alice respond then?

She wasn’t quite sure. She would, she supposed, take it as it came. And it was in this frame of mind, carrying a water bottle (pink!) and duffel bag with her uniform, that she entered the weight room. Not many students used the weight room on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The wrestling team had it on other days for group sessions, and you’d see the occasional kid lifting on off-days. By contrast, Martin, Kevin and Luke had made it their office. 

When Alice poked her head in, they were already there, warming up. Stretching. Bullshitting. She looked around for someone, anyone else. One of the coaches. Another student. But there was no one. 

“We told some freshmen to take a hike,” Martin explained, looking like an olive-skinned god, dark-eyed and dark-haired. He rose from his stretches and started to approach. His confident stride made Alice shift backward… and bump into something big and warm - the chest of one of the other boys. Kevin. 

Luke walked over too. Before long, the three were surrounding her again, and she became aware of just how petite and short she was. The top of her head only came up to their chins.

“What’s wrong, dude ?” Martin said, and this time Alice was sure she could hear a teasing tone in it. Her blue eyes moved from side to side, assessing the walls of jockhood that were now surrounding her on three sides. 

“Don’t call her dude ,” Kevin said, with an enlightened voice a hundred percent unlike anything Alice had ever heard from him. “Don’t you know it isn’t PC?” 

“I ...it’s okay…” Alice stammered. “You guys can call me whatever.” She hoped this would placate them, but it only fueled their teasing.

“Yeah, as long as we don’t call you ‘bitch’,” Luke rumbled, then laughed. “Hey, Alan, you don’t mind if we talk about girls while you’re here, do you?”

“Yeah, we don’t want to offend you or nuthin’,” Kevin chuckled. “Since you joined the other team.”

“Got the parts to prove it, too.” Martin looked Alice over, front to back.

Their banter came at a rapid fire pace. Luke put on a complimentary face and said he had to admit it - the transformed version of Alan Littlesby was at least a nine. Martin said they’d have to check under the hood to know for sure. Kevin joked they might as well check the trunk, too - and then it came… WHAP! A spanking, right on the ass! Alice’s wide blue eyes goggled above their fields of freckles, her butt jiggling from the impact. The boys burst out laughing.

“I guess we should call you Alice, huh?” Martin said, leaning in. Now she was totally trapped. Their big, muscled bodies were the sides of a triangle, hemming her in. “Looks like you made the switch and you aren’t looking back.”

“Maybe she can be like… a double-agent, and shit,” Luke suggested. “Get in good with the girls and tell us what they’re saying.” They laughed again at this idea. Alice’s face was getting redder and redder, she cutely bit her lower lip and clenched her fists, not sure where things would go from that point. First had been a slap on the ass… what was next? A grope of the tits? A hand between the thighs? Or maybe an insistent push on the shoulders, encouraging her into a kneeling position!

Why are you thinking about all this stuff, Alice’s inner voice asked. Why is your mind instantly entertaining these scenarios? Do you *want* to get taken advantage of by boys, is that it?

The three boys stepped away and laughed even louder. Kenny strode around and then peeked directly into Alice’s blushing face. “Ha! Had you going there, huh?” he taunted, and Alice let out a frustrated exhale. 

“You guys!” she blurted, clenching her fists again. “You’re the worst.” And yet again they laughed. 

“Come on,” Martin said. “Let’s work out. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

And work out they did. The boys did their sets, and Alice served as their spotter, helped to move weights on and off of the bar, and experimented with her own physical abilities. As expected, she could lift less than before - Spontaneous Gender Reversal was a complete biological change - and the sound of her own cute grunts and moans as she struggled was disharmonious to her own embarrassed ears. 

She tried to ignore the way the boys were ogling her and could not. That was definitely different from the previous workout sessions, when they had ignored Alan almost completely, treating him like the younger, less popular boy he was. It was different; nothing could make it the same. It all came to a head during the bench press, with Alice struggling to lift even a very light weight, hellishly aware of her own splayed thighs and upward-facing, pillowy breasts as she raised and lowered the bar… and the three jock studs standing around her, ‘spotting her’, as they engaged in conversation. Alice heard them talking in between her own furious (and dainty) exhalations of breath.

So did you ever close the deal with Connie DeMitro?

Naw, she’s playin’ hard to get. Just head. Even that was just the tip. My balls are so blue they feel like they’re gonna burst.

That’s rough, man.

A princess-like grunt. The bar went up. Alice looked around and saw three sets of compression tights and shorts… along with three massive, bulging packages. Her arms trembled. Kevin even reached down to grab his nuts when he was talking about being blue-balled. She saw the outline of them, the furrow between them, the weight they seemed to carry as he lifted and dropped them. A tingling filled her body… especially in the area of the nipples and crotch.

Damn, I would totally blow her back out. You’ll get there, don’t worry.

I need to get my dick sucked, bad. You know? It’s been a hot minute.

What about Carrie Levin? She’s been over at your place all the time, right?

Her grades went down. Parents put the thumb on her. No going out unless she stops fuckin’ up.

Shit.

Yeah, just my luck. She loved to swallow.

And this time, it was Luke who hefted his monstrous package while he mentioned the oral predilections of Carrie Levin, a girl with braces and long brown hair that the former Alan Littlesby had once asked to a dance. Alice could see the outline of Luke’s big, bell-shaped prick tip through his tight spandex, on the end of what looked like a solid foot of snaking, heavy cock.

“Nnngh!” Alice moaned, and her elbows wavered as the bar dropped down suddenly onto her breasts. It caused an amazing sight, as the bountiful flesh of her boobs was neatly bisected in two by the bar, causing jiggly swells both above and below. Alice’s face turned red as she struggled. It wasn’t just the weight pressing down and the new weakness of her graceful (but smaller) arms. It was the distraction of those big, bulging, sweaty, twitching jock cocks… looming above her tense features like a trifecta of rock formations!

“Gah!” she cried out. The bar tilted to one side and one of the weights hit the ground - CLANK! - and at last they came to her rescue, chuckling in a teasing way as they did so.

“Whoa, whoa!” Martin said. “Alan bit off more than he can chew!”

“You mean Alice,” Luke corrected, and they lifted the bar back onto the weight bench and then pulled Alice to her feet, where she wobbled and panted out breaths that made her boobs rise and fall. “Luckily she has a built-in cushion for that bar!” And they all laughed again. Alice crossed her arms over her breasts instinctively; this only made them laugh harder. 

“Okay,” Martin breathed, clapping his hands. “Good workout. Let’s hit the showers.” And they started to move as a group, propelling Alice along by their size and proximity. She moved toward the locker rooms, which were through the gymnasium, like a pebble being pulled along by a rushing river. A rushing river of muscled jocks!

When they passed into the gym, there wasn’t a single other soul there and the doors leading to the hall were locked and curtained. A volleyball net hung mid-court, slumping with disuse. Their shoes squeaked on the floor. They all walked up the sideline toward the locker rooms - Kevin was actually hustling Alice along with a firm hand to the back, now - and they reached the division with the two doors leading to two separate changing and showering areas - one for men, one for women. 

Alice started to move toward the women’s changing room. There was never really a question in her mind - much as she’d like to still be a guy, physically, it really hadn’t worked out that way. And yes, it was frustrating for her own traitorous body to give up all hope of being male so easily, growing an enormous ass and tits that made it impossible to pass as male, but there was no sense living in denial. Except she didn’t get more than two steps toward the door before she felt firm hands on her shoulders and wrists.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Martin rumbled. 

“To the changing room!”

“Oh no,” Kevin teased. “You’re not going in there. Guys aren’t allowed in the girl’s locker room.”

Alice’s lip quivered. “I’m not a-” she started, then swallowed a nervous breath and tried again. “I’m a-”

Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t say it. She had been through hell and back the last two weeks, adjusting to it. Accepting it. But she hadn’t said it, not even to herself. She had never said I’m a girl .

Suddenly the desolate gym seemed all-too-convenient. The boys had planned it somehow - told all the usual after-school athletes to fuck off for a day. And oh god, the hands on her wrists and shoulders were very, very firm. “Let me go!” Alice cried, and even that complaint, combined with her squinted-shut eyes and freckled cheeks behind those glasses, was too cute to register as any sort of resistance. It was the last thing she said before a big, bear-sized black palm closed over her mouth and she was shoved into the boys’ room, heels sliding on tile, pushed upright like a porter’s dolly. 

“Waaaaagh!” Her cry of apprehension carried her all the way inside, and in seconds she was whirled around and pinned against the wall with three hulking studs looming. Their cocks seemed ready to burst out of their spandex. Alice smelled sweat and musk and maleness, a quality she had once aspired to but no longer possessed. She cringed away, her heart beating a mile a minute.

“Time to hit the showers,” Martin breathed, glowering down. “What do you say?”

“I think we better get this shirt off,” Kevin offered, and suddenly all three of their hands were grasping and pulling at Alice’s white crew neck tee - and being more than a little rough. She clamped her hands to her sides to prevent them from pulling it up and off, but all this did was force Martin’s two wingmen each to subdue an arm, holding them over her head. Lickety split, the garment was soon up and over her breasts, revealing the milky-complexioned midsection that so softly and enticingly pressed against the waistband of her shorts. And that wasn’t all. Her breasts, pressing outward as they always did, at first rose with the shirt until they could rise no more. Once released, even with the sports bra attempting to contain them, they fell down like two boulders. WHOP! The boys catcalled and shared uproarious excitement as the two heavy, fat jugs descended and bounced.

“Damn, I fuckin’ knew it!” Luke exclaimed. “This wimp never was much of a man, but as a bitch, she’s got the biggest tits in school!” The shirt was trapping Alice’s arms and covering her face, so she felt rather than saw them paw powerfully at her breasts, groping them, squeezing them, filling their large hands and marveling at the volume and softness, pressing them together and watching them flatten and rebound. Like the horny teen studs they were, their interest in huge tits seemed endless! Only after nearly half a minute of molestation was the shirt removal finalized. But of course, they went on to the bra, immobilizing their prey in the same fashion, arms above head. The bottom-elastic of the grey sports bra went up, up, up, first revealing a hint of large, pink areolas, showing the milky undersides of each sphere… and then, it too, passed the point of no return.

This time the noise was even louder. 

“Damn!” Martin laughed. “What a pair of fuckin’ milkers!”

“Those are bigger than my mom’s fake ones!” Kevin offered.

“Fuckin’ big-ass titties!” Luke marveled.

Alice clasped her arms together to try to hide her huge tit-globes, puffy nips and freckle-dusted cleavage, but they were pried away and forced behind her back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in the boys’ locker room with a pair of big, fat tits like that?” Martin said, leaning in until she could feel his breath. Alice turned her head. The unfairness of the question made her angry. They had made her come in! But all they wanted was… was…

“See any action with those things, Al-... oh, sorry. Alice,” asked Kevin. “I bet you’re groping those big fuckers every night, huh? Can you pull them up far enough to suck on ‘em? I bet you can!” And with harsh suddenness he was the first to grab her bare flesh, squeezing hard enough to make her soft, light skin pour out between his thumb and forefinger.

 

Alice meant to do anything but what she did. She meant to run at the first chance, she meant to tell them they were all a bunch of assholes who had never been real friends, she meant to tell them to fuck off. But that wasn’t what happened. Because her ultra-sensitive breasts responded to the groping pressure and the rough thumb on the tip of her nipple like a rocket that had been permitted to blast off! The sound that came out of her throat wasn’t an objection… it was a bitch in heat! She was mortified to make such a sound, and totally embarrassed to be feeling the sensations that caused it. A bolt of pleasure had hit her hard enough to make her tummy quiver!

Please, don’t let them notice , she helplessly begged.

They noticed. Laughter mixed with seething accusations came quickly. “Look at this fuckin’ slut,” said Martin. Going off like a rocket just from getting her tits groped. And this caused them to double and triple their groping. They squeezed, pulled, ground her nipples between their fingers. Alice’s face was a red sheet, her glasses were cutely askew and rapidly fogging up. They played her like an instrument, musicians of teasing who used her different buttons to produce different tones. She wailed, and moaned, and seethed through clenched teeth. Her knees buckled more than once.

“I swear these are the size of basketballs,” Kevin marveled, and though they weren’t that big, they were close enough - certainly large enough to fill up two hands. The blonde-haired jock stooped forward and Luke joined him on the other side. Alice instantly knew what they had in mind.

“No, don’t!” she peeped. But they did. They fastened their greedy mouths over her large nipples and started to suck . She cried for them to stop not because of discomfort but because of the opposite - she was afraid of feeling pleasure from it. She didn’t want to feel such things from her newly minted female body.

I shouldn’t like this , she chanted to herself. I shouldn’t like this. Don’t like this. Don’t like this. Don’t like this!

She tried to vocalize it, getting as far as “Get off me!” before her next sentence was aborted midway through, turning into more of an animalistic moan. Whatever she wailed, it sounded like nnnnnnnnnnnnwuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaagh and was accompanied by a wobbling of her knees and a soaked feeling between her legs. She was… she was…

Cumming! 

“This bitch is creaming herself!” Martin crowed, as his two cronies sucked mightily at her breasts. “She’s going off like a rocket from having her big, fat milkers sucked!”

“Yeah, you love it, you big-titted slut!” Kevin gasped, pulling his mouth off and roughly twisting her nipple. “We always said girls are sluts, didn’t we? And after all that talk about trying to score, it turns out your body was ready to make the switch!”

“No!” Alice wailed, but there was no denying that her insides had turned to liquid and her panties were absolutely soaked! In fact, the crotch of her gym shorts was starting to darken with the proof of her arousal. And these two powerful jocks weren’t offering tender kisses and playful bites - they were absolutely sucking the fuck out of her huge, bouncy, hanging tits! They were sucking so hard their cheeks were gaunt and her boobs were stretching into zeppelin shapes. They were sucking so hard it was audible - slrrrrrrrrrp! - and worst of all, mortifying as it was, abusive as their teasing had become… Alice’s traitorous body was loving it!

I can’t… lose to having my tits sucked , she thought, helplessly. I have to… stop! The ‘life comes at your fast’ meme of gender reversal Just six weeks prior, she had been joking with these same guys about tits, asses, and fucking! But soon a powerful quarterback hand was shoved between her legs, two fingers pressing hard on her slit and a thumb on her clit, her brain exploded in such pleasure that her eyes actually jiggled in their sockets and her tongue corkscrewed out of her mouth. Her trembling made her freckles dance, glasses adorably askew. Martin first frigged her pussy with hyper-fast rubbing motions, and then pulled down the waistband of her shorts and panties and stuffed his hand inside, stretching them down to reveal her entire pussy!

Schlurp.

The sound. The wet, embarrassing sound. His hand was large… but two long, thick fingers had effortlessly slid inside! Alice could not believe the sound had come from her body. Was she really that wet? She had only just become a girl… and already her pussy was lubing itself up beyond belief!

“This bitch is ready to pop just from getting fingered a little!”

“I never saw a bitch this ready to go.”

“Damn, that pussy is phat as fuck!”

Luke ran a hand over Alice’s soft, smooth belly, with its adorable pooch of chub that pressed insistently against the waistband of her panties (when they weren’t being pulled down for a fingerbang!) . “Damn, she’s thicc, too,” he chuckled. “This fuckin’ skank can take some dick, you better believe it.”

Martin was enjoying his explorations, squeezing her puffy pussy mound like it was a fresh hot dog bun, pressing it, making it bulge out, rubbing it. Alice’s only response - the only thing she seemed capable of - was ever-increasing moans of embarrassment. Only after nearly a minute of furious fingerbanging and tit-sucking did she give voice to a very feminine cry:

“Stop! If you don’t stop… I’ll… I’ll!”

“Do it, you fuckin’ slut ,” Martin seethed in her face. “Cum from getting your big tits sucked out and your wet pussy blasted!”

“Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnrrrrrrrrrrgghhh!” Alice exclaimed. She didn’t just yell it or gasp it, it came out of her body in a submissive, helpless purr . And at the same moment, her knees buckled totally, they had to hold her upright as an eruption of lube and squirt started to spray out from around Martin’s hand, splattering everywhere. It was like someone had turned on a sprinkler! The boys made meatheaded catcalls as the proof of her orgasm erupted. And in the few seconds when Martin withdrew his sopping fingers, the splashy bursts became a solid, spraying stream that flew six feet across the room and laid a track of wet sheen on the changing benches.

It was Alice’s first orgasm as a teen girl. Much different from the pop shots he’d enjoyed as a teen boy. The rumbling buildup, the brain-fogging inevitability, the vicious crescendo… it was like nothing she’d ever experienced! It seemed to go on forever, and the voices of the jocks faded into the background, as if heard from underwater.

I’m… gonna faint… thought Alice.

But she didn’t faint. Instead, she went knock kneed and slid down the changing room wall like a spitball down a teacher’s whiteboard. Slowly, bonelessly. Her chest was heaving, her tits exposed. Her pretty blue eyes focused on nothing. “Nngh…” she managed. That was all. All the defiance she’d hoped to present, any dignity she’d hoped to preserve, it all amounted to that noise.

Nngh.

There were shadows looming. Three thick columns extending from three huge male monoliths. Alice looked up and swallowed nervously. The boys had pulled down their compression shorts and pulled off their shirts. They were naked as jaybirds, as if ready to shower… and their huge, half-hard cocks were absolutely steaming, inches from her face. Alice’s nostrils flared. Her sinuses were quickly inundated with thick, jock dick musk . Three brutal, heavy shafts, throbbing with vitality. Three sets of big, swollen, backed-up balls. God, they looked heavy. Alice wrinkled her nose, feeling lightheaded.

“Now you’re going to take care of us, buddy ,” Martin said, using the word sarcastically.

“ Old pal ,” Kevin chimed in.

“ Compadre ,” Luke chuckled. “You know, just like old times. Helping a brother out. You used to carry our gear and our bags because you wanted to hang with the big dogs. You think we don’t remember?”

Alice’s face blushed a deeper red. She had always thought Martin, Kevin and Luke were rather dense, but they had the cunning of animals - they could sense weakness. The whole time the former Alan Littlesby had been ingratiating himself, trying to leech off of their popularity or get with any girls they cast aside, they had seen him for exactly what he was. At five-foot-seven and a hundred-fifty pounds, even on the track team, he had never been one of them. He never could have been.

And now, ‘he’ never would be. He was no longer a he at all.

“Suck my cock, bitch ,” Martin ordered. “Butt-boy. Fag. You’ve wanted to do it since freshman year so now it’s your lucky day.” His meat was hardening quickly, and Alice saw she had undersold its size from her long-ago shower glimpses. I had to be nearly a foot long, thick as her wrist… and so drenched in sweat that it was steaming . “You were already a faggot who wanted to suck cock. That’s why your body changed. You were always a girl.”

That’s not true , Alice screamed in her mind. That’s not true! Yet in spite of all the scientific and medical evidence, the seed of doubt had been planted. Alice wanted to cry out in denial. Her mind raced, dizzy with the scent of those big, hanging docks, all uncircumsized, the fat bell-ends looking jaw-stretchingly plump!

And now I’m going to say ‘Get off me, creeps!’, or punch them in the nuts, or get up and run away, or cry out for help, or tell them that this is sexual assault, ot tell them I have zero interest in them, that I was a straight *guy* and I’m still interested in women, and just because I was fingered against my will it doesn’t mean anything, and that...

And that...

And that…

“If I suck you,” Alice said, her voice low, “will you let me go and leave me alone from now on?”

What? *What* did I say?

It had come out so naturally, the former Alan Littlesby hadn’t even had to think. Alice put her hand over her mouth immediately. What the fuck. What the fuck!? It was like some deep-seeded instinct inside her body and mind had made the offer without even consulting the person she knew - the person she wanted to be! A new voice… a girl’s voice!

The guys laughed and high-fived. “Fuckin’ slut,” Martin sneered. “Sure, we won’t harm a hair on your pretty little head, will we?”

Luke crossed his fingers. “Cross my heart, hope to die,” he joked. And as they laughed, Alice stayed still, not sure what to do, not even sure how to begin. She had seen dozens, hundreds of blowjobs while exploring online porn, yet actually performing one was daunting. Not even because she thought she might be bad.

She was afraid of being too good! 

In the end, the decision of when to start was taken out of her hands. Martin, alpha-male of the group, made sure he was front and center and rubbed his fat cocktip all over her face, jostling her glasses up and down and smearing them with pre-cum. They all closed in, forming a wall of jockflesh, their muscled asses on the outside, their ripped pelvises and rippling abs inside. Cock came at Alice from three directions.

“Gllnnch!” she gasped, taking the tip of Martin’s meat into her pretty mouth. It did make her jaw stretch a little, but nothing she couldn’t handle - much to her dismay. “Nnngh.” She began to bob her head, imitating what she had seen, trying to visualize it. Quickly, it was less about what Alice had seen and what she instinctively seemed to know - that the more worshipfully she bobbed her mouth, the more slick, sloppy friction she could provide, the more inches of cock she could take, the more pleasurable it would be!

Just get it over with , she thought. Just get it over with! How quickly outright denial had turned into bargaining. Alice picked up speed with her bobbing on Martin’s big, olive-skinned prick. Her cheeks bulged, first one side then the other, as she angled her head and worshiped it. She sprayed hot breaths on it and licked up and down the shaft.

“Kiss it,” Martin hissed, planting a hand in her hair. “Kiss it, faggot. Kiss that dick and those fuckin’ balls.” Alice did so, whimpering at the searing heat of it, The heaviness of those big, round orbs weighing down his scrotal sack enough to make the skin taut. She licked and kissed his testicles until they were shining with spit, slurping them into her mouth. The sounds were becoming very lewd… and there were two more cocks to take care of as well. Kevin and Luke weren’t about to wait in the winds indefinitely, and they all but shoved their hanging meat into her dainty hands. Alice soon found herself slurping one huge cock and jerking too more, having to move her arms in exaggerated motions because they were so long, so thick her fingers couldn’t encircle them completely!

And they stank with animalistic sexuality. They smelled male musk and cum and jock dick. Alice moaned and her eyelids fluttered behind her skewed glasses as three fat knobs were rubbed in her face, smearing cum on her eyelashes, cheeks and forehead. She began to turn her head to each of them in succession, taking a few gagging strokes, cutting off her air as much as she dared, until she had to come up for a breath. Their bulging prick helmets began to batter the back of her throat as she got more accustomed to the act. And her pussy… her pussy…

Was wetter than ever! She was leaking down her thighs as three musclebound, abusive studs were wearing her throat out with their monster cocks! Once they had warmed her up enough, each one tried to see how far they could fit their cocks down her throat. Kevin drove his prong three-quarters of the way, and then pulled out before Luke interrupted her gasp with his dark, dripping penis, burying it deep in her throat until his shining balls pressed on her chin and his curly, dark pubes tickled her nose. It was Martin who got the idea to use her cute pigtails as handlebars. And from that moment, Alice lost all control. 

They wore her throat out . She lost all track of time as she squatted like a stripper and mutely allowed her throat and mouth to be violated, her head being dragged by the hair up and down, up and down, long, throat-reaming strokes that seemed to reach all the way to her stomach. Her gorge was tickled by all three of their bulging, spasming prick knobs and her cute nose breathed deeply from three different patches of sweat-soaked jock pubes. Her glasses first fogged, then tilted completely sideways, hanging from one ear. The sounds were heavy in her ears.

“Glllrrk! Glrk! Glrkglrk glrk glrk glrk!” Her throat was stretched by rapid-fire strokes. “Glnnnnnnnngh!” A spray of cum and throat-slime burst from her lower lip and nostrils, and when Martin pulled out, saliva strands as thick and gooey as pasta noodles connected her face to his cock and crotch. Her eyes were unfocused, eyelashes flutterly like the wings of a dazed butterfly. 

Martin spat in her face. “I got a big load for you, faggot,” he sneered. “Or bitch. Cunt. Whore. Slut. Whatever you’re gonna call yourself, we know what you are. Look at you - fingering your wet cunt while you choke on our cocks!”

And so she was. So completely under their control she didn’t need her arms to balance, her right hand had moved to the furrow of her panties, rubbing intently. The left was stroking Luke’s big, black prick. Alice hung her head in shame, making no effort to wipe Martin’s expectorate off a face that was already utterly plastered in throat goo. He reached out and grabbed her hair again, this time pulling her face up against his balls. He hadn’t been lying about the big load. She could feel them, churning, pulsing. They felt so heavy! She started to lick and suck one of his heavy nuts.

“You’ve always been… a little bitch!” Martin seethed, and viciously buried his prick back into her mouth, leaning over Alice, using her pigtails to pull her mouth taut to his pubis. Alice fingered herself more furiously, sure she was going to pass out, hoping either an orgasm or unconsciousness would provide some sort of escape, just wanting it to end. And then it occurred to her - yes, the end. And what happens at the end? Cum. Lots of cum. In her mouth! All over her tongue!

Alice tried to pull away. As Alan, she’d tasted her own cum once as a sort of experiment. The result - a rather lukewarm and mostly flavorless substance that reminded Alan of snot - had been nothing pleasant. And now, it seemed Alice was going to get a serious reintroduction. She braced her hands against Martin’s muscled thighs and tried to push away… but it was no use. She was stuck… and it was coming!

“Nnnnnn...ghhh!” Martin grunted. Something thick and warm and wet exploded into Alice’s mouth and throat. The urethra of Martin’s big cock seemed to expand and stretch and flatten her tongue as pulsated with the load spurting through, puffing her cheeks out with a hot, gooey, lumpy, nasty mess! Fat clumps of sperm burst from her bottom lip and slopped onto her chin, and she could feel some of it sliding down into her stomach. She managed to pull back her head a little, but this only left his cocktip directly on her tongue, where it blasted a chunky rope of wad that totally filled up Alice’s mouth!

Martin’s muscled ass-cheeks clenched in sordid time with his ejaculation. Each time he grunted, a new burst of wad caused Alice’s cheeks to bulge even more. “Fuck… fucking slut… loving it when I nut in your fucking mouth!” he seethed.

Alice was most definitely not loving it. It was a massive load. A big, backed-up, bull-stud jock load. She could feel the textured clumps of virile sperm around her teeth and tongue. And the way Martin was milking his dick onto her mouth seemed so excretory - the exhales, the grunts, the feeling of just dumping his load - that she felt utterly violated. Her mind returned to the times she, as Alan, had jerked off into the toilet.

I’m a fucking… cum dump , she thought with dismay. She had heard the term used with derision more than once when they talked about girls. She knew what they expected and couldn’t bring herself to do it. Martin’s cock popped from her mouth, a strand of cum connecting, then breaking. They peered down at her.

“Swallow,” Martin ordered. Alice shook her head in negation. Her cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk. He repeated the order. She shook her head again, more desperately. Trying to say it was just too much . She felt her stomach beginning to rebel.

“Uh-oh!” Luke laughed. “Looks like she’s gonna blow!” And then, Alice exploded into motion, knee-walking toward the changing benches that sat low between the lockers. There was a large, clear plastic cup on one of them - the empty remains of a fountain drink from a convenience store, left behind by some long-forgotten student. She barely made it in time, moving among their legs like a gnome among giants, gaining it with both hands, before letting the cum bubble thickly out of her mouth and into the cup.

There was so much, it filled the cup to a level of several inches. Alice let her head hang, gasping, cum still clinging to her lips. Footsteps approached from behind, and shadows fell again.

“Guess you haven’t been a girl long enough to know what to do,” said Martin. “Not swallowing. That’s against the bro code. I think you might need a little training.” Alice’s blue eyes went wide with worry. 

“I can’t,” she whined. “It’s too thick… and there’s so much!” But as quickly as the complaint was lodged, her face was being rubbed with three big, steaming, jock dicks. 

“You can’t do weight training anymore,” Kevin announced. “From now on, it’s cum training.” He found her glasses and placed them back on her face. “And that’s good because I’m just about ready to blow, and I’ve always wanted to do this!” He was jerking his cock in her face like a porn star about to deliver the coup de grace. 

Luke and Martin held her shoulders steady as Kevin bit his lip, looking like a golden god with his light tan, blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Through fogged up glasses, Alice was staring down the barrel of the bull! His pisshole seemed to loom like the bore of a cannon. And when he reached his climax, stroking vigorously, he directed his weapon right at her face!

“Nnnngh fuck! Take it, faggot!” he hissed, the strange context of the slur adding layers of disgrace to the already fucked-up situation. A huge, white ribbon of thick cum sprayed directly over the lenses of Alice’s glasses, and more ropes followed shortly after in time with Kevin’s grunts, painting her forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips. His jock load was so thick and copious, Alice could feel the weight of the messy, clumpy on her skin!

When he subsided at last, her face was a total mess, nostrils blowing cute bubbles through the layer of cream. Martin held up the cum cup she had used to catch his load. Alice made a whining noise. She could barely see. Her face had just been used as a cum toilet! They would not relent until she used her fingers to scrape the mass of cum down, off of her features and into the cup. The stuff was so thick and nasty that not much was lost. And when she was done, the cup was filled nearly halfway.

Luke was the only one who hadn’t yet busted a nut, and his prodigious, ebon-skinned hammer seemed about to do the deed. But rather than jerking off, or fucking her face as Martin had done, Horford High’s star defensive back had other plans. He saw to it that Alice’s overworked sports bra, which was already soaked with cum and hanging around her neck and shoulders like a rag, was totally removed.

“Push them together,” he ordered. “Use the insides of your wrists.”

Alice was embarrassed that she could even do such a thing. Her big, heavy jugs seemed tailor made to wrap around cock, a further indignity that only kindled her state of overwhelmed desperation. She wondered why she couldn’t have turned into a girl with small breasts, or a girl who at least looked like a guy - or close enough to pass as one. But no. Alice had huge, full, round, heavy tits… and for the first time, she got to experience a guy, shoving his cock between them.

Luke’s big, scimitar-curved black pipe sliced between her breasts like a knife into butter, causing them both to groan with pleasure - his willing, hers unbidden. Though he was sporting nearly a foot of cock, her heavy jugs were enough to cause most of the shaft to disappear - it entered near the base, travelled through the channel created by her pressing forearms, and only the tip emerged at the top of her cleavage.

“Holy shit,” Kevin said, looking on with wide eyes. “Those tits were made to fuck!” Alice hung her head in dismay as she was so lewdly used - or as much as she could hang her head, with Luke’s cock knob thrusting up and out of her cleavage and bonking her in the chin. The sounds grew lewder and lewder as he took longer strokes at the wet channel she’d made - sawing that black pipe in between her pale fuck-pillows, making sweat and cum and spit spray off in a haze each time his big, heavy balls slapped against the underside.

This is what it feels like… to be used , Alice realized. It felt both terrible… and pleasurable. The friction of that shaft against her tits, pressing her big, puffy nipples together against it, using her body for the only thing it seemed suited for. As Alan, she hadn’t been useful to them as a friend. Now, as Alice…

“Oh, god…” she moaned. Luke buried his big dick between her tits and the head began to spurt and erupt in syrupy, lumpy geysers of cum that bubbled up all over her chin and mouth. The sound of it - the big, wet spurts of jizz erupting - was so fucking nasty!

“Take care of that dick, bitch,” Luke grunted, his voice strained. “Take that fuckin’ cum!”

And Alice found herself doing it, reacting to his order like an obedient pet. She craned her neck down, sucking, kissing, licking that dick, taking care of that spurting, spasming cock! She held it in place with her tits while hollowing out her cheeks and sucking the tip briefly when it was close enough, making lewd oral ‘pop’ sounds. Her mouth was totally plastered in cum, her shapely lips glazed with hit. And in the triangular reservoir formed by her tits, from which the shaft protruded, a pool of sperm had built up.

The humiliation continued as they forced her to use her breasts to pour the leftover cum into the cup, holding them out like a sluice channel and guiding the chunky, gooey mess downward. Luke had cum prodigiously. The cup was three-fourths full. Alice reached out and gripped it experimentally. It was heavy, like a thermos. She could feel the weight of sperm. She could see the lumpy, nasty thickness of their combined loads.

“Drink it,” Martin said. “Chug that cum, you slut.” 

Alice swirled the cum around the cup experimentally. It was so thick it barely moved. She moaned out again. Her memories went back to her own ejaculations as Alan Littlesby - the amount had been so much less, the texture so much more watery. As Alan, she had never been one of them, and never could be. They were alpha-male bull studs. Hung, cum blasting, woman-conquering brutes. 

“Drink it,” Kevin said. It became their refrain. Her body, seated on the benches in only panties, thighs spread, was blushing pink in the face and pussy. There was no hiding the searing heat that was running through her like a virus. They chanted, they catcalled, they insulted. The heavy cup of cum seemed to look ever larger in front of her face.

“Drink it, faggot,” Martin spat. “You were probably dreaming of it every night after you worked out with us, huh? Well, now you can be our bitch. Now you can take our cum down your throat like a slut, just like you always wanted. This is your dream come true - take the boy out of bitch-boy and all you have left is bitch.”

My cock wasn’t even half the size of theirs when I was a guy. I never scored with girls like them. I carried their bags and was the butt of all of their jokes.

“You’re going to suck all our cocks every day from now on,” Kevin chimed in. “Every morning before school, meet us behind the field. We’re going to tit-fuck you, throat-fuck you and nut on your face every day until the school year is over.”

Alice looked at the cum as if hypnotized. I didn’t just become a girl , she thought, in utter defeat. I always was one. These guys were socially gangbanging me long before I turned into a girl. Even when I was a guy I was a girl. All my trying to be like them amounted to nothing. And no matter how hard I try to resist, here I am, sucking cock, getting loads dumped on my face and tits.

“You’re a bitch for us to dump our cum in,” Luke growled. Your pussy is wet as fuck from being passed around like a dick-suckin’ whore. Look at how hard your nipples are. Man, woman - you were born to take care of guys’ dicks, you fuckin’ slut.”

A thought passed through Alice’s mind, clear as crystal. 

I’m… a cum dump.

It was the first time it had been so unrestrained, without pushback or second-guessing or denial. The phrase was new, like her bra, and she was trying it on for size. 

My big tits and ass… are for taking care of guys’ dicks.

She glanced around at the catcalling boys. Martin, chiseled and ruddy-skinned and flawless in his physique, so powerful. His cock hung in a gentle curve, sagging under its own weight. Kevin, the pretty boy of the bunch, slightly leaner but even more ripped, blonde and blue-eyed and with that pinkness in his cock, nearly a foot of meat as thick as her wrist. Luke, dark and handsome and imposing, his hair freshly barbered, his lean muscles bulging. His balls hung the lowest - a big, round, scrotal pendulum with two fat cum tanks clearly visible.

Alice closed her pretty blue eyes. It was a moment of epiphany, and of ultimate surrender.

I want... these guys... to use me as a fucking sperm toilet!

She brought the cup up to her lips and turned it upward, and this time she welcomed their reactions of hooting, catcalling abuse. Mouth wide, she tilted the vessel enough that a heavy stream of sperm began to pour, directly into her mouth. Directly onto her tongue. The stench of semen filled her nose, and she was glad. After years of trying to be something else, the former Alan Littlesby, now Alice, was in a role that felt totally, sinfully natural.

The cum was thick. Alice filled her mouth to the brim and then closed her lips around the sloshing, lumpy mouthful. She looked up at her three sperm donors and flashed them a knowing look as she swirled the mess in her cheeks and then opened again, taking a playful, back-arched, ass-thrusting pose on the bench. She gargled and bobbed her tongue in the off-white soup. “Nnnnggh!” she gasped, almost overspilling her lips before closing her mouth again and taking an exaggerated, gulping swallow.

Glmmmph.

Her throat bobbed obscenely as the enormous mouthful of sperm went down to her tummy, accompanied by a feeling of warmth and submissiveness that was unspeakable. Alice knew a threshold had been crossed and no longer cared. Instead of fighting the tide, she was swimming with it. Her body was made to take cum. Loads. Blasts of thick, sticky jock jizz . Her figure was built to absorb it, her fat tits were designed to milk it.

No longer content with a mouthful, she raised the cup to her lips and tilted it back. Now, the flow of sperm was constant; her throat was working in rhythm with gulp after gulp after gulp. She showed no hesitation as the sounds of her swallowing lewdly filled the air. A few wads slopped down her chin and between her huge, hanging tits, down to the waistband of her panties, which had been pulled to the side to expose her blushing pussy. Still she drank. And as the dregs got thicker near the bottom of the cup, she extended her tongue and licked her lips, her mouth, and the rim of the receptacle to make sure not a drop was spared.

The guys cried out fuck yeah . They cried out what a slut . They called her a cum-chugging whore and a nasty cocksucker . To Alice, this was no longer a cause for alarm, but rather, validation. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up at the three studs with submissive blue eyes and freckles that danced on flushed, horny cheeks.

“Thank you... for feeding me so much cum,” she said. “It makes me wet - thinking about how much you guys can shoot.” And she placed her hands on the bench and spread her legs, taking to the seductive position as naturally as someone born biologically not male or female, but slut.

And when Martin rummaged in his duffel bag and came up with a long, narrow box, pulling out some extra-large condoms and tossing them to his pals, well, Alice was on board with what he intended. She had given in - the part of her that had considered itself Alan Littlesby had fallen silent.

She only wanted to be a jock cumdump.

When Martin stretched his powerful body back on the bench and let his fat pipe of cock stick straight up (adorned, almost absurdly, with a neon purple XL condom), Alice prowled into position with the ease of a prodigy. She had seen enough porn, imagined enough scenarios, to know what was expected of her. Her powder blue string-side thong panties - chosen because they were less restrictive on her hips and butt than standard full-coverage types - were her only remaining stitch of clothing. The crotch was already soaked through, it was a simple matter to slide it away and spread her thick labia. She squatted over Martin’s jutting, foot-long fuckmeat like a fuckslut, showing the other two boys the thick globes of her ass, exploding outward from her heart-shaped hips in pale, flawless white flesh. Her cunt, absolutely drenched, drizzled a syrupy line of lube onto the knob of Martin’s cock.

“Fuck!” the quarterback exclaimed. “You’re ready to go, aren’t you Alan? But you got a pussy now, let’s see if you can use it.”

Alice dropped her weight a little and his latex-wrapped knob rubbed over her labia and clit, pulverizing them deliciously in mortar and pestle fashion, pressing them against her pubic bone, making nerve endings sing deliciously. Her lube splattered down his bone, dripping over his balls. “Don’t call me that fag name,” Alice hissed. “I’m Alice… and I want your cock to stir up my guts!”

Martin grinned. “Yeah? You admit you’re a fuckin’ slut now, huh?”

“Yeah. Blow my fucking back out. Stretch out my wet, slutty pussy!” She dropped down more aggressively and the thick penis burrowed into her vaginal canal - reproductive equipment that had not even existed as recently as three weeks prior.

The feeling was like nothing else. Fullness. Sparks and explosions of pleasure. Unspeakable pressure. The sensation of being conquered and used, or being a once-untouched frontier penetrated. I’m losing my virginity , Alice thought. It certainly was not in the way that the former Alan Littlesby would have envisioned. There was no awkwardness, no pain, no discomfort. Not only did her hymen seem not to exist, but her body, as ever, seemed custom-designed to fuck the biggest stud cocks! Her wet pussy walls were slurping that bone as she rose and fell. Her ass-cheeks clapped against his thighs, and against each other, in forceful ‘whop!’ sounds with each lift and drop. And despite Martin’s amazing size, her dynamite body could absorb every inch. She could feel the recently-installed womb and cervix being jostled and teased by the passing of a huge meat tube, and it only brought her more pleasure. Alice was discovering herself in a way that no amount of late-night finger explorations could have managed.

“Your… big cock… feels so fucking good!” she wailed, throwing her head back and continuing to ride that pipe. And after minutes of fucking, the other players on the stage took their positions. Luke claimed her asshole, standing on the bench above her and pushing her forward until she was splayed over Martin’s body, her tits rubbing all over him, her round, bubble ass spread and ready. Aided by an abundance of lube, his big, black pipe plowed into her ass with a viscous schlorp . And though blowjobs with condoms on were a jock no-no (as Alan, she had heard them complain about it a million times), Kevin still rotated around to her face to give it a good fucking. 

Soon, she was taking cock in all three holes. The boys worked up a rhythm, and soon, Alice didn’t have to do any moving at all - she was simply mute, accessible meat for as much fucking as they wanted. The three studs violated her inert body as her buttocks bounced with their thrusts and her tits compressed and slid all over Martin’s chest. She heaved, choked and gagged as Kevin viciously slammed her throat.

She had so many orgasms. Again and again and again. Her ass was being ravaged and swelled into a supernova of pleasure. Her pussy was a soaking, splasming sex bomb. And her clit? Rubbing against Martin’s cock and grinding on his pelvis, it was the center of a supernova. Alice had already cum four times before they dropped their loads into her twitching, eye-rolling form. She could actually feel Kevin’s condom expanding inside her throat, filling with sperm, threatening to block her air. 

When they pulled out, each fat cock was adorned with a condom stuffed with cum in a teardrop bulb. As she slowly recovered, they tied these to the string waist of her thong, making her wear their loads as a marker. They made her dance, putting on a sweat-slick, condom-belt twerking show, sucking her own tits, clapping her thick ass cheeks, spreading herself and showing them her well-fucked holes. Already they were referring to her as a hooker and a whore , and as she danced around, putting on a show, Alice agreed with them. 

“Yes,” she purred at Mason, tears in her eyes. “I’m a whore. I’m a slut. I have no self-respect… I just want dick.” She bent over and spread her ass-cheeks, then hefted them with her fingers and clapped them together. “You all… you made me like this. You made me into a fucking whore… so… just do whatever you want with me!” There was more truth to the statement than anyone could ever know. It was a process that had started years earlier, the first time Alan had glanced over in the locker room and seen those monster dicks swinging and banging between their thighs.

Those same cocks were quickly beginning to harden, and Alice dropped to her knees and looked up at them submissively. Unfastening the condoms from her belt, she untied them and slowly drank their contents, maintaining smoldering eye contact, one after another, consuming every drop. The seductive display was enough to raise them all to full mast in record time.

“We can do anything, huh?” Martin growled, walking in predatory fashion. He lifted the half-full box of condoms and tossed it over his shoulder. “Oops. Looks like we’re all out.”

Alice’s hot, needy womb immediately turned to ice water. “F-fuck!” she gasped. 

“Sad how a young girl can get in trouble,” Luke teased, circling in from the left. “Go and get herself pregnant.”

“It’s always the real sluts,” Kevin said. He was coming in from the right. “You know how people gossip. When a teen mother shows up at school with a big belly.”

They were surrounding her. Martin pushed her down by the shoulders. Kevin and Luke held her wrists. “Oh, fuck!” Alice moaned. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. The violation of it… the feeling of just being used … of being a vessel to house jock reproductive material… it was so humiliating! And yet-

“You’re wet like a fucking whore,” Martin said, climbing on top. He used his arms to pin her knees back to her shoulders and angled for the deepest penetration. “You want this, don’t you?” He thrust. Alice cried out in pleasure as his cock, now unimpeded by contraception, slid slickly into her molten cunt. She was soaked, making the passage easy, and the new angle felt even better. She was in a mating press.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, clinging on to dear life as he dug his penis steadily inside, in and out, abrading her sopping vaginal walls with the texture of his cock, the intensity of his pulsing veins. She cried out. His mouth was close enough to seeth viciously into her ear as his buttocks clenched and he punished her womb.

““You’re going to fuck every guy on the team before the year is done,” he growled. “Every jock in school is going to run a train on you. We’re going to pimp you out all year, you slut. You’re going to swallow loaded condoms and suck our cocks right after we’ve fucked your ass. At school you’re going to wear our cum in your panties and your mask. You’re going to suck us every day before school and fuck us every day after!”

He thrust at a vicious angle and Alice cried out, hugging him closer. “We’ll have a rule - no condoms. Ever. You’re going to get pregnant for sure. You’re going to be a knocked up, teen mom slut.”

“Nnnnghhhhh!” Alice groaned, as the most soul-crushing orgasm yet tore through her body. She knew she shouldn’t… but she wanted it so fucking bad! “Oh, fuck! Fuck… god… I’m cumming!” And she dug her nails into him and encouraged him deeper, to plow her more powerfully. His cock seemed to rip into her slit with each stroke, splitting her fat labia wide, and when he hilted himself and wrapped his hands around her throat, Alice’s pussy made a wet plap sound as it was pressed flush and flat under his spasming, twitching balls.

“Enjoy your baby, bitch!” he spat. Alice’s eyes rolled back and her tongue danced in her mouth. Her arms fell limp. Her pelvis exploded upward against his. They were locked together utterly, and there could be absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind that shot after shot of chunky, virile stud sperm was being blasted directly into Alice’s fertile womb. She could feel the pressure of the fat plumes of cum erupting upward and filling her completely. 

Sperm exploded back out of her pussy, arching backward several feet and splattering on the floor. She was totally full - it was a monstrous load. She fell unconscious from the choking, toes twitching, moaning in ecstasy. And when Martin grunted with final release and pulled out, collapsing to the floor on one hip, a degrading, ultra-thick creampie began to pour back out of Alice’s well-fucked cunt, slopping down over her asshole and pooling there.

“Pleaashhh… pump all your… cum… into my baby… saaack!” Alice slurred, blinking at the ceiling. The looming, blurry figures of Kevin and Luke appeared like dark angels, blotting out the overhead lights. Already, Martin was on the phone with other members of the football team, telling them to gather, telling them to come and run a train on their new bitch.

“Bitch,” Luke said, milking a fat strand of pre-cum down onto her face. “You’re about to have a long night.”

Alice did not even blink as the sperm splattered across her eyeball, only looking up with doll-like, degraded acceptance. Oh, good , she thought, dimly, with Luke moving into the mating press position. 

His monstrous black prick tore into her cunt with a nasty schlooooooorp . His big, smooth balls slapped her asshole. Lube flew. He began to thrust and churn up her cunt. And Alice’s mouth twisted up into a euphoric smile. There was only one thought on her mind:

I love being a girl.