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School of Hard Knockers Pt. 1 (Commission)
🕑 Added 2021-04-03 06:32:44 +0000 UTCHi! This is (potentially) the start of another series (not again Leaf!) depending on things. It's a fun and lewd story about a boy (totally a boy, totally, stop laughing) who gets accepted into a secretive university. But there's a catch...they want to turn him into a hot babe!
This story features some INVOLUNTARY aspects so if you don't like seeing people turned into hot girls against their will, Avert Ye Eyes. I'm totally writing the protag like an egg and forcefemming is hot but I know some folks aren't into that so, yeah, heads up. Everyone in this story is 18+ of course.
Also quick apology for the title. I couldn't think of a better one so I fell back to what I always do: esoteric Simpsons references.
Enjoy!
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The first time Will had seen the name Inanna Academy, it had been inscribed in elegant calligraphy. He’d pulled the pitch black envelope out of his family’s mailbox after work, casting it onto his desk next to the other college rejection letters. He hadn’t even remembered applying to any place with that name, and had already forgotten it by the time he’d showered, got something to eat, and slumped into his desk chair for a night of streaming. Only after the first episode of his favourite show had he remembered the letter. He gave it a weary glance, like it was a text from an ex.
Long days at the local Coffee Condor to save up for school, only to get the cold shoulder from everywhere he had applied, had given him an aversion to thinking about his future. The last thing he wanted to do was get stuck in his deadend hometown, but his marks hadn’t been fabulous. Best he could hope for at this point would be maybe a trade school, but spending 50 years doing the same thing over and over again didn’t reach out and grab him either. The letter sat on his desk while he aimlessly scrolled through his feeds, trying to distract himself. Finally, just before he shut off his lights for the night, he peeled open the envelope, bracing for another blow to his self-esteem.
But to his confusion and surprise, the letter within had told him he’d been accepted into a general studies program...with a full scholarship! He knew it was too good to be true, so he’d immediately googled the name of the institution for more details.
Nothing.
No websites. No testimonials. No professor ratings. A few scattered forum posts asking similar questions to the ones he had. ‘Anyone heard of this place?’ one had asked to no response. He checked the satellite map of the return address on the envelope. A distorted green blob, deep in the heart of Appalachia. In a perpetually connected world, it seemed like this place didn’t exist.
It was all too surreal. Maybe it was a mistake? A prank of some kind? He stared at the letter, running fingers over his full name written in a different colour to the rest of the text. Someone had cared enough to make this letter. He didn’t know anyone who hated him enough to spend the time required to fuck with him like this. Maybe they’d seen something they liked in him? Maybe he was a charity case, like a tax write off thing if they take enough hopeless students.
He still had a month before classes started. And, if the letter was genuine, he wouldn’t have to work his ass off anymore. Will sketched out a road trip itinerary on the online mapping program and brainstormed a way to quickly end his employment. He was going to find out for himself.
***
“I assume you have a hundred questions,” the woman behind the imperious desk said. Her curly brown hair and wide rim glasses gave her the look of a dower librarian from the 50s, but her eyes were kind and her smile genuine, giving her more of a ‘favoured aunt’ air about her. She held out a hand toward the seat on the opposite side of the desk, which Will settled down into. “My name is Margaret Kleiner, and I’m the head of admissions here at the Academy.”
The window behind her looked down at a wide quad that sat at the centre of a campus straight out of the 19th century. He’d nearly missed his appointment because of the architectural marvels on display on campus in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.
“You’re not wrong. I looked online and wasn’t able to find anything on this place. And how did you even find me? I didn’t apply here.”
She smiled, light wrinkles appearing around her eyes. “I’m glad to hear that you weren’t able to find anything about us. Our institution pays a lot of money to keep out of sight. And as for how we found you, your file came up in our regular search through applications of our sister institutions. Sometimes they even send us cases they think will be a suitable match for us. You were one such file.” She opened a manilla folder in front of her, dozens of loose pages piled within. That looked far more than just a copy of his application. Just what kind of information did these people have about him?
“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but,” he shifted in the seat, “What...exactly made me a good candidate?”
“Average grades, but huge potential. Inanna’s heartfelt promise is that everyone has the capacity to truly excel. Personally, I think you’ll bloom here. Our general program gives you a good range of academic experiences, then you can find one that calls to you and you specialize from there.”
Again, his suspicions got the better of him. “And this is all paid for, right?”
She nodded. “We’re a very selective institution. Those who can afford it pay the full price do, but we hold many of our slots every semester for cases such as yourself. I assume you can live on campus for the length of your degree program?”
“Yeah!” he exclaimed, then visibly reeled in his excitement behind a Poker Face facade, “I mean, yes, sure. If it works for me I mean. But...I’m not ready to make a decision yet. Can I get some more information? Like, a tour? I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Of course! I will insist, however, on your first step being the infirmary.”
“I’m not sick,” he said, reflexively. He’d never liked doctors.
She held out her hands, palms out. “It’s a precaution. Our isolated position has its advantages, but it can leave us vulnerable to outside infections. What with flu season coming up again, you understand, right? You’ll get a full tour of the campus afterward, but I must insist.”
He bit his lip. Getting a physical sprung on him wasn’t what he had in mind, but he wasn’t about to get back onto the bus and back to his miserable job. After some more preliminary information, she escorted him out of the building, where she pointed toward the building directly across the quad from the administration tower. He thanked her and headed out, taking his time on his walk to further enjoy the sights.
There weren’t many students around. A few here and there, likely summer students. But he enjoyed every one of them. As a red blooded guy, he enjoyed the sight of the opposite sex. And each and every person he saw on his way was an absolute stunner. One was a blonde bombshell with hips to die for, the next was a redheaded tomboy with a fantastic ass. He usually wasn’t this much of a pig, but it was like they had pulled every woman out of his active imagination. He kept himself from leering, barely, and hid his glances by taking in more details of his destination.
It looked like the most modern building on campus, though that only meant it originated in the depths of the cold war. A five story tall brutalist cube, windowless and monolithic. It didn’t look like any clinic he’d ever seen before. If this was a school, maybe they had a medical program? That would explain the size, but still, it looked rather intimidating for a medical care facility.
He pushed his way past a pair of double doors and into a wide lobby area. A woman with an old-fashioned hairstyle sat behind a horseshoe shaped reception desk, looked up at him over a pair of bifocals. “About time. Will Gibbons, I presume?”
“Yeah. Am I late?” he asked. It hadn’t taken him that long to cross the quad, he thought.
“You’ve been on campus for over two hours now, spreading who knows what. Report to the third floor, Dr. Mackenzie’s office.” She returned to whatever work she’d been doing before he entered. A little startled by her abruptness, he followed her instructions, taking an elevator to the floor marked with a 3 on the button panel.
The elevator doors opened on a confusing maze of hallways that, after some roaming, lead him to a room labelled. “Dr. Mackenzie - Prep”. A strange noise came from the other side of the door. Almost like someone was tapping their hand on something. He entered.
And saw a woman fingering herself on an examination bed. Her head lolled backward, lost in the pleasure of the act. She hadn’t noticed Will’s entrance. Gorgeous platinum blonde hair spilled down her back, much longer than he thought was regulation for healthcare providers. She wore pink scrubs, the top hiked up over her large breasts and the pants of which dangled around her ankles. The tapping sound he had heard was actually the bed itself, making steady creaking noises in rhythm with her vigorous frigging. After maybe a second too long, he closed the door and tried knocking.
“Hello? Is this Dr. Mackenzie’s office?” he asked rhetorically, staring at the sign that said as much. The noise stopped, followed by the frantic rustle of clothing being pulled up.
“Just a minute!” a peppy voice called. After some muffled cursing, the door opened on the woman’s blushing face. “Aha! Y-you must be the next patient!”
She had gorgeous blonde hair, though it was rumpled and her bangs clung to her forehead from sweat. She smelled, well, like sex, and he did his best to keep a straight face. He’d been caught ‘at work’ before but never actually At Work.
“Name’s Will. Are you Dr. Mackenzie?”
She shook her head. “No no no, I’m a...well, I was just checking his supplies. Gotta make sure you have tongue depressors!”
Through sheer force of will, he kept another comment about “things that depress tongues” to himself. Instead, he smiled and nodded. “Good thinking. Could you let the Doc know I’m ready to see them?”
She flashed a nervous smile before slipping between him and the door, headed off deeper into the labyrinth of rooms. As she turned, he saw she had a striking tattoo on the back of her neck: a pink eight pointed star. It caught the light in a weird way that made it seem it was glowing.
Will shook off the optical illusion and let the door close behind him. The room looked like every examination room he’d ever been in in his life. Uncomfortable bed with a thin paper sheet over it, a desk featuring several dozen drawers with a computer on the top currently set to a screensaver. He sat up on the bed slightly to the left of the little dark spot the nurse had left and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. A tall, well built man in a white labcoat stepped through the door as if in a rush. He yanked a clipboard from one of the cubbies and flipped through it.
“My apologies,” he said, running a hand through salt and pepper hair, “I was delayed by another matter. You’re Will? Right?”
Will nodded. “This’ll be just a check-up, right? Nothing invasive?”
“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Could you strip out of your clothes, down to your underwear please,” the doctor instructed, head still buried in the clipboard’s contents. Will hated doctors for a couple reasons, but one of them was things like this. He hated seeing his body when he was by himself. Showing it off to another person was even less appealing. Reluctantly, he started opening the buttons on his shirt.
What followed was a frustrating, humiliating, and stressful ordeal: a routine physical. Every part of him was probed, poked, and palpated, much to his chagrin. He also took samples of just about everything, save for semen, which Will was half expecting at this point. This wasn’t exactly what he’d signed up for when heading to a college campus, but if this is what he’d have to do to get a full scholarship, it was a price he was willing to pay.
Finally, the doctor placed the clipboard on his desk and took off his gloves. “I think that’s all I need to see for now. As far as I can tell, you’re in the picture of health.”
“That’s good to hear,” Will said, and reached for his clothes. He felt a prick of pain against his shoulder, and turned to see Doctor Mackenzie withdrawing a tiny syringe from his skin. “What the fuck? I thought you were done poking me?”
The doctor smiled. “It’s a sedative. It’ll take effect shortly. Don’t worry, we’ve made all the arrangements. You’ll be back on your feet just in time for classes to start.”
Will shot up off the bed, but already the blanket of fatigue was settling in over him. He took a few rubbery steps over to the door, but his limbs failed him. The doctor caught him on his way to the floor and eased him down.
“You...you fuckin’...” Will managed before his lips turned uncooperative. Drool spilled out onto his chest. He was only barely conscious of being pulled into a cart with wheels. A gurney, that’s what it was called right? He couldn’t think straight, the world around him in blurry watercolours as he tried to figure out what was happening. He was in a much larger room now. At least ten people, maybe more, rushed to and fro in pink scrubs like the nurse, performing all kinds of tasks. Some washed their hands and upper arms in the sink, while others pulled out large, complicated machinery from hidden panels in the walls. His movements were restrained, kept in place by straps on his arms, legs, and lower chest.
“Let’s try EX-19,” one of the voices said, its words slow and muffled to his addled brain, “The lab seems to think it has gotten the spontaneous climax part out of it but kept the enhanced sensitivity.”
“Is that wise?” another voice asked, “We just got this patient in today. We have no idea how she’ll react to the new formula.”
“Only one way to find out,” the first voice said, and pulled out a large, glowing pink canister. Another jab sent him further into sleep, and his last conscious thought was that the pink in the container was the same shade as their scrubs, and identical to the colour of the lewd nurse’s star tattoo.
Then, black.
***
He floated in nothingness. Sheer void stretched in every direction from his body, which hung suspended like a lone ornament, twisting in a nonexistent breeze.
A spark of light flashed to life in the distance. As it grew closer, it grew brighter. His eyes, which did not exist, blinked. Detail resolved itself. It was no mere ember of illumination. It was a person. A woman with glorious black hair and skin like clay fresh from the kiln approached him. Wings the colour of polished ivory exploded from her back, and she appeared to sail on them towards his disembodied consciousness. His vision traced down her gorgeous, naked body, past her enormous breasts and wide hips to between her legs, where the most exquisite penis he’d ever seen hung limp. She was perfect.
“Do you see?” she asked. He could only nod, though he didn’t know fully what she meant. He opened his mouth to ask, but her cock slid effortlessly inside. It tasted like heaven, and all his senses flashed into being just to sample her divinity. She looked down at him, at once towering above like some ancient monolith and at the same time being on the same level as him. He accepted her gift into him, his mouth unpracticed at pleasuring any form, let alone something so magnificent.
He suckled on her shaft, feeling it throb with ichor, the blood of gods, and stiffen under his efforts. Rewarding his efforts, ambrosia spilled forth and down his throat, the liquid glowing bright enough to be seen through his body which came into being for Her purposes alone. It filled his whole form, warming him. Changing him.
“Accept my gift,” the Goddess said. She thrust herself back and forth, almost a leisurely pace, yet still she gushed her prodigious flow of precum. He could feel his own cock manifest just long enough to shoot its own load into nothingness, then shrink into an ultrasensitive nub. His whole proportions became elastic, expanding in some places and reducing in others. All the focus of Will’s mind, however, was on the glorious cock in his mouth, which he slurped and licked and tried desperately to please.
His efforts were not in vain. The Goddess stiffened, thrusting in a brief burst of staccato movements before erupting in a throat filling gush of pure bliss. He gulped her cum down, treating it like the divine present it was. He wanted to thank her, to beg her forgiveness for not being worthy of such an offering. But she simply smiled and stroked his hair, now longer than it had ever been.
“You’ll have your chance to thank me,” she said, her face disappearing into the same light as before, “But that’s for later. Wake up, child. Wake up, for the first time in your life.”
***
Will’s eyes sprung open, then shut on reflex. Searing sunlight rendered whatever space he was in debilitatingly bright. He covered his eyes and rolled onto his side, using his back to block the source of the light. His whole body ached, and though he knew he just finished sleeping for god only knew how long, he was still dead tired.
“Are you still in bed?” a voice asked. His head pounded. Will couldn’t locate it, or recognise it, all he knew is that it was too loud.
“Leave me alone,” he croaked. His voice sounded terrible, like he had a throat infection or something. What had happened to him? Where was he?
The voice’s owner didn’t take the hint. “You got class in an hour, dummy. You’re gonna be late for your first day!”
“First...day?” he asked. That didn’t sound right. He slowly, carefully rose out of bed. Something tickled against his bare shoulders as he sat up. He peeked out one eye. Hair. There was...hair on his shoulders.
Hair from his head.
Will’s had shot up to grasp a handful of dirty blond hair. He tugged at it, thinking a mop or a wig had fallen on him. The hair was attached to his scalp. Real.
“Are you okay, honey?” the voice asked. He turned, finally seeing the source of the voice.
She was a heavyset woman, plump and short with a cheerful cherubic face and purple hair which had just started to fade to black at the roots. Her chest was incredible, and on some level she resembled a kind of primordial fertility idol. She even had the tummy for it, but even dazed as he was, he knew better than to speculate on if someone was actually pregnant.
“I...who are you?” Will asked. His voice was squeaky, almost inaudible. His throat was so dry.
She tapped her forefinger to her chin. “I’m Jenny! Remember, we got paired off together? Oh dear...you don’t look so good. Maybe you’ll feel better after some coffee? I can get some from the kitchen.” Jenny rushed off out of the room, leaving Will alone for the moment. With great effort and strain, he sat up.
He was in bed in a tiny, unfamiliar room. It looked like something out of an industrial motel. Aside from the bed, there was a desk, an office chair, and a dresser, all of which looked brand new if somewhat cheap. Gaudy pink wallpaper covered the walls, and a flimsy mirror hung off the back of the door. In his sitting up position, he could barely see his reflection and just caught the corner of his face.
“What the fuck?!” he cried, falling out of bed. Shambling back to his knees and crawling over to the door, he confirmed what his mind refused to accept.
The face in the mirror was not his own.
Hazel eyes stared back, though he knew for a fact his were brown. Long copper hair matted on one side where he’d slept on it, but despite that looked gorgeous. His teeth were model white and his lips looked beestung. His eyes drifted southward, and he discovered the source of that crushing weight on his chest.
Breasts. Not just anything gynecomastia could provide, these were gigantic. He had no idea how to measure breast size, not really, but they took effort to lift up in his hands and he couldn’t enclose them with his hand. Thick nipples stiffened at his touch. Something about the jolts of sensation made him shiver, luxuriating in an intoxicating full body response. That had never been a problem before. Sex, eroticism, had always been held at arms length. Fun but unfamiliar, enjoyable in short bursts (so to speak) but not something to be savoured. This was...this was altogether different.
He kept exploring, tracing down his taut tummy, past the waistband of his shorts to confirm what he already suspected. Where there had once been a thoroughly average cock now rested a small hooded button adorning the top of a slit with prominent labial folds.
A pussy.
He was still touching around the edges of his genitals, searching for artificiality or a limit to the illusion, when Jenny pushed back inside, holding a steaming mug. His hand shot back out of his shorts, making him blush.
“Here,” she said, handing him the coffee. If she’d noticed he’d been fingering himself, she was nice enough to pretend otherwise. “I didn’t know how you liked it, so I put in some creamer.”
He drank deeply, feeling the warmth slide down his throat in a way that reminded him of a foggy memory. A dream, perhaps? “Thank you, but...what the fuck is happening to me?”
She put a hand to his forehead. “I’m not sure. You don’t have a fever but-“
“No, I mean Why Do I Look Like A Woman?!” he asked, voice cracking as he raised it. He hadn’t sounded this squeaky since puberty.
She tilted her head. “Uhh, because you are one? Everyone who goes to Inanna Academy is a woman, silly. You wouldn’t have gotten accepted if you weren’t.”
He balked. “That’s circular reasoning! My name is Will.”
“Willow Gibbons, I know. Boy are you cranky. I hope you’re not like this all year!” She picked up the empty coffee mug and stepped out of the room. “I gotta get to class. I suggest you should too! Your schedule’s on the fridge if you’ve forgotten. Talk later!”
Will sputtered interjections, but she was gone before he could muster much response. His whole world had gone topsy turvy and she was late for class?!
He paced back and forth in his room. Memories came back to him in a steady drip, each illuminating a moment in time. He remembered arriving, the Dean’s office, and looking at a huge building. A clinic? It was all still confusing, and he had so many more questions. But the first thing he had to do was get dressed; running around in pajamas was a bad call whatever his gender was. Then he could find his phone, or find A phone, and call someone in to get him.
He ambled over to the cheap dresser and pulled out the drawers, looking for the most modest outfit he could put together. To his dismay, the clothes they had provided him with weren’t exactly modest. A tough proposition in the first place given his enormous breasts. Skimpy skirts, spaghetti strapped tops, things that he had absolutely no experience in wearing. The least revealing clothes were meant for cold weather. Jackets, sweatshirts, and tights to wear under thicker plaid skirts.
After much deliberation, he went with a sweatshirt and the only pair of pants he now owned. It looked warm out there, but Will didn’t think he could take the eyeballs falling on him if he wore one of the skimpier numbers. Slipping the tank top off, however, revealed an all new problem. The simple act of sliding fabric over his skin felt...strange. He shivered as the silky smooth fabric glided over his nipples. As the process continued until the edge of the garment caught one of his nipples, Will’s eyes fluttered.
“Oh!~” he moaned. He’d never moaned out loud before. It felt like someone had cranked up the sensitivity to 11 then broke off the knob. In part to experiment to see how far this sensation went, and partly to take his mind off the confusing mess of a situation he’d found himself in, he ran his fingers around his nipple.
Will caught his own reflection in the mirror. There she was, a buxom woman without her top, staring back at him. She was so hot. His fingers traced down to his pussy, but they went further than just tracing the outline. This time, he curled his middle finger to slide inside himself. He clamped his thighs around his own hand and squealed, unfamiliar voice squeaking. It was indescribable. The many, many times he’d jerked off felt like drab charcoal drawings, where this form of pleasure was in pure colour. He flopped back onto the bed, still entranced by the woman in the mirror and the gorgeous face she made.
“Is that...me?” Will asked. It seemed impossible, totally beyond anything he thought was possible with medical science. But there was the proof in front of him. He was...not a he. Willow. That’s the name Jenny used. Spreading her legs, Willow reentered herself. The pleasure returned, but this time she wanted more. Two fingers slid inside, trying to replicate the motions she’d seen in porn so many times. It was awkward, at first, but the bliss form even those first fumbling fingerings was too much to ignore.
Building up a rhythm, Willow fingered herself into a frenzy. Her attention captured by the mirror, watching the woman there open her gorgeous lips in a perfect O and throw her red hair back. To be so casually beautiful without effort or artifice, so pure in that moment of primal joy, it was too much to handle. The buildup toward climax appeared to took no time at all, but by the moisture clinging to her thighs and the bedspread, it might have been half an hour for all she knew. She was soaked by the time the buildup approached its peak, threatening to throw her over and dash her on the rocks of oblivion.
“Oh god,” she chanted, “Oh fuck...is this what it’s like?” she asked with a breathy voice, her eyes locking onto the woman in the mirror. Is this what it was like to be a woman? The question remained unanswered, and Willow pressed her thumb to the aspect of her anatomy she’d been ignoring. Gently brushing the top of her clit was enough to make her scream and squeeze her hand and fall back onto the bed. Weak jets of transparent fluid licked at her palm as she had her first squirting orgasm, the pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt with a man’s body. It radiated out from her groin in overwhelming waves that captured her, knocking her loose from her moorings and setting her adrift on a sea of unfamiliar sensation. When she came back to the shore of consciousness, it was only after getting pulled back by undertows, aftershocks of her climax that made her frig herself again for a moment.
It was another eternity before Willow, Will, whoever occupied that body, returned to normal thought. The reflection he saw was still that gorgeous redhead, but her workout had giving her forehead and breastbone a sheen of moisture that was somehow even sexier than before.
Will blinked. He had to get himself together! His identity was at stake and couldn’t be simply thrown to the wind because he was in a different body. He was still Will...he was pretty sure.
After a shower, a long shower, and slipping on the clothes he’d originally picked out, Will was ready to make his move. First, he had to locate a phone. The campus looked old, it might have a payphone! He rummaged around for his wallet, but he found nothing of the sort. On hook by the door, however, was a purse. Within held a set of identification cards, all with his (new) face on them. They listed his name as Willow, but the rest of the information was legitimate.
If they thought they could gaslight him into believing he was a woman, they’d be surprised when he put out the call and brought in the cops, the army, coast guard, everyone in authority to shut down them and their unethical practices. He founds some coins and some crumpled bills in the purse, surely enough to make a call. If not, he could borrow someone’s cell.
He had his hand on the doorknob when someone knocked on the other side.
“Hello? Is this Will’s room?”
Will yanked the door open. To his surprise, it was a familiar face. The nurse, the one he’d caught masturbating in the examination room, was standing outside his door. She wore more casual clothes and her hair was in a tight ponytail, but he wasn’t likely to forget her face anytime soon.
“I know you! You...you know who I am?” he asked, voice tipping upward at the end in hope.
She nodded, much to his relief. “I remember you. And yes, you’re not in a dream or anything. Can I come in?”
Will stepped out of the way, letting the nurse into the common area/kitchen he apparently shared with Jenny. She had started pacing before he’d closed and locked the door behind her.
“Do you know what’s going on? What’s happening to me?”
She nodded. “My name’s Beth. It was...well, it was something else before I came here. I was like you.”
Will’s blood ran cold. “You’re...it happened to you too?”
“Yeah. Inanna Academy has a lot of us around. Some, not all. There are plenty of people who aren’t, but many of the people who go here are transformed first. They give us the tattoo to let staff and students know that we’re marked,” she tilted her head to the side to show off the pink star tattoo, then jerked her head towards his shoulder. Will went to the bathroom and angled himself in the mirror. There, on the back of his neck, was an eight pointed star.
“How did I miss that?!” he shrieked, feeling the skin where the tattoo had been applied. It wasn’t red or inflamed, so it must not have happened recently. Then again, his knowledge of biology had been thrown completely out of whack. “What does it mean?”
“Like I said, we’re marked. They call us Inanna’s Chosen. The Academy is run by some kind of cult that worships an ancient Mesopotamian goddess. I don’t understand it fully, but they believe that only trans women can become close to their God.”
“But I’m not trans!” Will said, exasperated. Sure he felt a little out of place with his own body before, lingering doubts about who exactly he was. But that was normal for people heading off to college. His education was supposed to be his chance to find himself, but now…
Beth shook her head. “They might not care. I thought I wasn’t trans too but, well, as shocking as the transformation was for me at first, I don’t hate being Beth.” The sound of a door slamming shut down the hallway startled both of them. “I can’t stay long. I’m not supposed to be telling you this, or even interacting with you after the procedure beyond checkups to see how the transformation went, but you gotta know a few things before I go. They have the tech to reverse the process. If you really hate it, they can change you back. But only at the end of the semester.”
“What am I supposed to do until then?” he asked, throwing up his hands.
“Go along with it. Be Willow, at least for a few months. Attend classes, meet people, blend in, do what’s necessary. If you keep your head and don’t make too many waves, they’ll let you go back to your old life. Without the scholarship, of course, but you can surely find another school that won’t transform you.”
He hesitated before nodding. Could he? Inanna had been the only place to respond positively to his application. “Are the classes even real?”
“For sure! All the well-connected people in the world know the Academy programs are second to none, even if they don’t speak about them in public. Put Inanna on your resume and you’re an instant hire. A lot of real smart cookies come out of the Academy.” Beth winced before continuing, “Sorry, sounded like a brochure there. Anyways, keep a low profile, do what they expect and you’ll be okay. Stray too far out of line and they might expel you or worse, put you in Corrective Measures. If you’re expelled, they won’t change you back and you’ll be stuck as Willow. And if they put you in CM, well, let’s just say there won’t be much Will left, in both senses of the word.”
Neither outcomes sounded good. “Then...I guess I’ll try to be Willow for a bit.” He blinked, remembering their first encounter, and blushed as he put it in comparison to his own activities in the minutes before his long show. “I have another question. It’s about something private.”
She nodded solemnly. “It’s about the urges, right?” After Will gave a weak nod, she continued. “I get them too as you might have guessed from our previous…yeah. Whatever they used to transformed us messes with our inhibitions and our libidos something fierce. I think the cult sees sex as a form of worship, so their Chosen are given sex drives to match. I’ve done things I never would have done in my old life with people I can’t even begin to count. Everyone here is healthy, so it’s all safe whatever you decide to do, but...don’t get lost in lust either. Some Chosen get so caught up in their own urges that they get ‘elevated’ to the status of Priestess. They are revered throughout the Academy, but in the few moments when they aren’t fucking someone they’re begging to be fucked. Also, be careful of letting people cum inside.”
“I can’t get pregnant,” Will said, then added in a thready voice, “Right?”
Beth’s mouth formed a flat line. “Sometimes, sometimes not. Chosen who get knocked up can’t be turned back, though. Something about the hormones, I think. Finish them off with your mouth or your hands when you can, unless you want to be waddling around with a bloated belly.”
Loud footsteps just outside the door. Beth pressed herself against the wall, fear evident on her face. Will went to the peephole, just in time to watch a very tall woman in a crew cut walk by wearing a dull grey uniform.
“Enforcers,” Beth whispered, “Don’t get on their bad side. They have complete authority in the Academy and can send you to Corrective Measures for as long as they want.” They waited for those heavy footfalls to dissipate. When they faded out of audibility, Beth visibly untensed and pulled off the wall.
“And here I was thinking this was some kind of lovey-dovey commune,” Will said.
“I have to go. Been here long enough, someone’s going to notice. Remember, you’re Willow. I’ll try to remain in contact if I can, but if we’re not alone, pretend we don’t know each other.” She opened the door and peered out, looking down both sides of the hall.
“One thing I don’t get,” Will said, holding the door open for her, “Why didn’t they just ask me if I wanted all this?”
Beth gave him a tired smile. “I know, right? That would make this all a lot easier. They say they don’t pick who gets chosen by their Goddess. Frankly, I think it’s a lot of superstition. I don’t know who’s actually making the calls, but…” She held out her hands to indicate her body. “I can’t deny that they were right on the money with me.”
She left, and Will was left with a choice. His original plan, to call in the Feds and bring this place down, sounded less appealing. First, it would mean he wouldn’t get his old body back. And second…it meant that people like Beth wouldn’t get helped. Despite not being trans himself, he could definitely sympathize with feeling out of place. But the prospect of being Willow for months made him feel strange. Could he make it work?
“Hey!”
His head snapped around, fearing the worst. But instead of a stern Amazonian Enforcer, it was a short bubbly girl with bright green hair done up in pigtails. At the edge of her charming cardigan, he could just make out the point of a pink star.
“Hello,” he replied, voice a little shaky, “My name’s…Willow. What’s yours?”
Comments
Mae
Oooh this is really good!! Can’t wait to see what’s next
A very promising start. Really interested to see where it goes from here. 🙂
