Vivian Divinfyre's library of the meticulously recorded tales of those who have changed.  Transformations, sex, body horror, and twisted journeys of the mind are contained within.

Not on My Turf

Clara Livingston sighed as the new “girl” Petra sat down at the other end of the table.  She was scrawny, blonde, and plain in every way.  She was so flat chested that Clara almost felt bad, and the only flair the girl had was the small piercing on the left side of her nose.  

Clara had heard from her friends at Petra’s old school that Petra used to be a boy, which made sense to her now -- Petra had to have balls to think she could just come and sit at Clara’s table mere days after starting at this school, especially so late into senior year.  

This school was Clara’s kingdom.  She was student government, she was the captain of varsity cheerleading, and she was aiming for top of class.  Given that she had already been accepted into the local university, as well as the most prestigious sorority at that university, she fully intended to make her presence known to anyone and everyone who’d be in the area for the next few years.  Especially flat little boys who think they are girls and think they can just waltz into her place with no questions asked.

Clara slid down the table and gave the most insincere smile she could manage to the new interloper.  Petra didn’t look up immediately, which made Clara roll her eyes with impatience, but now that she was closer to the girl, she was able to get a good look at her features.  Her face was more angular than most girls, and her nose was taller, but she wasn’t ugly by any means.  Maybe a little manly, but it was hard to tell.  Clara just hoped Petra would fuck off and not make her have to get dirt on her for real.

“Petra, yeah?”

Petra’s expression was almost sad.  It was like she already knew what was coming.

“Listen, new girl, I’ll cut straight to it.  You don’t seem to know exactly how things work here. You don’t get to just wander in and sit wherever you’d like, ‘kay?  You need to have some respect for those of us who’ve gone here for years.  All my friends sit at this table, and if you want to sit with us you have to become one of our friends.  You don’t get to just jump in and have people welcome you with open arms just because, m’kay?”

It was condescending, it was cutting, and it was cruel.  But Petra needed to be put into her place.  Other groups could be much worse than Clara’s.  Clara almost shuddered thinking of what treatment the girl would get if she’d sat at the football team’s table instead.  

“I didn’t even know it was your table.  I’m just looking for a place to eat.”

“And that’s exactly the problem,” Clara said, flipping her hair, “of all the people whose table you should have taken the time to know, its mine.  Did you even bother to learn anything about this school at all before jumping into class?”

Petra shrugged, her mouth creeping open in disbelief.

“Its...just school I guess.  I didn’t think it was against the law to eat lunch.”

Clara took note of Petra’s muted, but sarcastic tone.  

“Well out you go, rest of my friends are coming now.  For the record, I’m Clara: student body president, and we have a proud culture here, so respect that,” Clara said.  

She paused momentarily, then continued, the finisher,

“Oh, and the only boys allowed to sit at this table are the ones dating my girlfriends.  Keep that in mind, k?”

Petra’s expression darkened.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

Clara smiled, turning her head sideways and fluttering her eyes ever so slightly.

“You should be thankful it was me who taught you this, not one of the other groups.”

Petra stood, knocking the chair backwards, upturning it.  One of Clara’s friends was approaching the table.  

“Yeah, you know what, you’re right,” Petra said, “I should have more respect for the Queen of the Lunchtable.”

Clara’s cheeks reddened.  You fucking bitch.  She stood, but Petra was already walking away.  Breathing through her teeth, Clara sat back down and tore open her purse, reaching for her cell.  Technically, phones weren’t allowed in school at all, but most of the faculty looked the other way for her, since every time she was punished class would get rowdy for whoever wrote her up.  So she woke the screen and texted her friend, Jess.

“You got gym with the new girl, yah?  Give her a ‘warm welcome’ for me.”

She dropped her phone back into her purse and smiled.  

“Everyone,” she said to the friends that had gathered at the table so far, “we’re gonna have some nice stories this afternoon.”

*           *           *

Jess rushed her shower after gym.  She was shaking with anticipation.  Clara had basically given her free reign with this one, and that said a lot.  The new girl must have really pissed her off.  She threw her school clothes back on and left the shower stall.


The girl’s locker room was much nicer than the rest of the school, having been recently remodeled.  There were a number of showers with actual doors, offering more privacy than the average high school locker room.  Jess scanned the stall doors, double checking for Petra’s stuff and slipping her cell phone out of a pocket in her gym bag.  Petra was the only girl here naive enough to leave her stuff hanging over the stall door.  

Jess had planned ahead and had two of her friends occupy the other two stalls in this wing of the locker room.  The remaining stall had a famously loose door latch, which could be jiggled off the hinge, and had been many times before.  Jess simply stole the clothes from over the door and waited.  

The second she heard the water turn off she shook the door and lifted her cell phone.  For a second, Petra’s eyes were closed and her whole body was exposed, slick, pale, nude.  Her breasts were small, her body seemed lacking in curves, and between her legs was exactly what Jess had hoped to find - her limp cock shrunken from the cool shower.  All of it was caught on video -  all of it.  

“Ha!  I knew you were a boy!” Jess shouted.

Petra screamed, her eyes snapping open and her hands flying up in front of her.  Jess screamed in response, almost dropping her phone.  Panicking, she pressed the “send” button, beginning to send the video to Clara.  Something was wrong with Petra’s eyes.   They were glowing bright green.  A fraction of a second later, the light began to move, snakelike, from her eyes, around her arms, and to her hands.  

The green tendrils shot forward from Petra’s fingers, sizzling and crackling, and coalesced into a single beam which engulfed Jess in a green flash.  Jess dropped the phone as he body was struck with sensation.  The green light seemed to be clinging to her like an aura, and it followed the phone to the floor as the phone rung out with the message “video send complete.”  

“I am NOT a boy, you stupid cunt.  But I do have a few powers you don’t know about,” Petra said, walking over to pick up the cell phone, “I see you got your video out to Clara.  I suspected that’s who put you up to this.  No matter, hope you both enjoy your new bodies, you fucking intolerable bitches.”

Jess barely heard what Petra said.  She was clutching her crotch and her breasts.  She felt Petra push her aside and walk out to get the clothes.  Jess heard her friends exclaim various profanities at the sight of Petra coming out in the nude, all parts revealed, but Jess was shaking in fear.  Something felt wrong with her body.  She slammed the stall door shut behind her and tore at her own clothing.  She slipped her pants off with ease and her underwear went down with them.  Before she even saw anything, she felt the change.  She could feel it between her thighs.  Her clit.  

Leaning back against the stall, she stared between her legs.  Gone was her perfect barbie-doll pussy.  Instead, her inner lips had become stretched and wrinkled, pushing out of her outer lips and failing to act as a hood for her now inch-and-a-half long clitoris.  It looked like she’d been using steroids.  She was unintentionally engorged, but her body was aroused against her will.  As she stared down, she also realized why her chest had hurt before.  Her breasts had shrunk a full cup and hung loosely in her now-oversized bra.  

Her mind flooded with filthy images and desires.  Jess wanted nothing more than to stroke her clit right here and now.  She resisted as best she could and tore off her shirt to get a better look at her chest.  By the time her shirt came off, she had lost another half a cup size.  She sobbed, knowing she would never truly regain her status as a girl with big boobs.

Jess’ boobs were now barely B cups and when she stood, she could see the tip of her clit poking out from her mound.  To her horror, she found this only turned her on more.  Panicking, she tried to pull on her underwear.  She shivered as she felt the fabric run across her clit.

Jess’ clit stretched the material of her underwear.  She moved her fingers down to try and suppress it, to force it down between her lips, but all she did was turn herself on even more.  She lost control and began to rub herself, almost salivating from the pleasure.

“Ha!  Hope you’re having fun in there.  Don’t worry, you should get used to the horniness in a few years,” Petra’s voice rang out from the other side of the stall door.  

Jess heard her friends arguing outside the door, shouting at Petra.  

“Keep an eye on Clara for me.  She’s gonna have it a whole lot worse off than you do.  Maybe she’ll think twice before being a vindictive bitch to me in the future.”

Jess couldn’t even think for how turned on she was.  She was so enveloped pleasuring her clit that she didn’t notice when her friends jiggled the door latch to make sure she was alright.  It was only once the full force of orgasm had slammed its way into her gut that she opened her eyes and saw her friends disgusted expressions, staring straight at the center of her lewdly spread legs.

*           *           *

Clara laughed aloud as she shared the video with a third circle of people.  It was seriously perfect.  This Petra kid was completely destroyed.  I’m totally going to buy Jess dinner for this.  The video had it all.  Full frontal nudity, bouncing dick, Petra’s look of anger.  That will teach you for fucking with me.  She put away the cell phone as her professor came in to begin class.

It was the perfect way to end her last class of the day.  She would be going home victorious.  She texted Jess a few times throughout class, but didn’t get a response until the last bell.  

“Went home early, not feeling well,” the text read.

Clara raised a brow.  That is odd, Jess seemed fine earlier.  Did Petra give her a black eye or something?  She sighed.  She’d have to head home first anyway.  Maybe she could see who else wanted to hang out tonight.  

She left class and headed down the hall to her locker.  About half-way there, she stopped abruptly.  Something smelled like melting plastic.  She looked around, smelling the air a few times.  The smell seemed to be coming from her purse.

Clara reached inside her purse and recoiled immediately.  Something hot was inside.  Smoke with a slightly green tint was streaming from the large pocket.  Oh my god I saw a video about this online!  She rushed over to the nearest window and held the purse near the crack to make sure the smoke alarms didn’t go off.  She shook the contents out onto the sill.  As suspected, her cell phone was steaming, slightly green.  Must be a defective battery!  Thank fuck I didn’t have that in my pocket.

Clara blew on the cell phone until the steam stopped.  It was warm, but touchable.  She pressed the home button, and the screen lit up as normal.  Weird.  On second touch, it was perfectly cool again.  She swiped the screen.  The video was open for some reason, instead of her home page.  It was frozen on the last frame of the video, pixelated and garbled.  In the broken frame, Petra’s eyes looked like they were glowing green.  

Clara closed the video and continued on her way.  She’d take the phone into the shop when her parents were back in town.  She just hoped it didn’t happen again until then.  

Her ride home was uneventful, though she did notice her body feeling a little achy.  As she entered the door, she figured maybe a nice restful night at home would be best.  I’ve got the whole house to myself after all.  She could take a bath, watch a movie, get away from the stress of life.

Clara climbed the stairs to her room, feeling more and more achy and tired with each step.  By the time she reached the top, she felt feverish and flushed.  She threw her book bag and purse onto a footstool on the side of her room and plopped into bed, kicking off her flats as she did.  

She fell into a muddled sleep of misty dreams.  She was in her high school, but the halls were full of fog and something just felt wrong.  She felt disoriented, like her body was out of proportion.  Her friends were looking at her oddly.  

Clara wandered the halls until she saw a light at the end of one of them:  a green, eerie light that illuminated the swirling mists.  She stepped towards it, her legs feeling wrong, her body feeling wrong.  Then she saw a silhouette, traced out by the green light.  She knew who it was immediately.  She tried to turn, but the mist had turned to thick sludge.  

The walls seemed to be melting into gray-green watercolor as Petra turned to look at Clara.  Her eyes glowed dark, sinister green.  

Clara woke with a gasp, her whole body tingling like a limb fallen asleep.  She tried to move, but her body responded with waves of powerful tingling.  After a moment’s struggle, Clara managed to flop her arm over and turn.  Sunlight poured in the window.  The clock on her desk read 8 a.m.  

Oh my fucking god!  School starts in 30 minutes!  

Clara bolted out of bed and onto her feet.  Her body punished her with a harsh wave of pins and needles.  She almost fell over, but managed to stumble into the bathroom.  Flipping on the light and turning on the hot water, she began to tear off yesterday’s clothes.  Like in her dream, her body just felt off somehow.  

She hit her hand on the counter while pulling off her capris.  Her footsteps seemed to hit the ground milliseconds later than she was used to.  The weirdest thing was that the shirt that fit her yesterday now came just short of her waist.  

Can clothes shrink like that?

She tore off her shirt and rushed into the shower.  For a moment, as she washed, she could have sworn something felt wrong about her pussy, but she didn’t have time to dwell.  She rushed out, dried off and, threw on some clothes.  They all seemed to have shrunken somewhat.  

I must just be getting fat.  Time to double down on gym.

Clara was horrendously late for class and the morning passed by in a blur.  At least she had lunch to look forward to -- there were still people who hadn’t seen the video yet.  Clara made it to lunch and sat down in her usual place.  No Petra in sight.  

“Hey Leanne, you seen the video of the new girl yet!”  Clara asked, “Its…”

She stopped short as her voice cracked.  Leanne laughed.

“You okay there Clara?  Finally hitting puberty?” she joked.

But Clara was overcome with embarrassment.  Even more so when she mustered up the courage to continue talking and her voice cracked again.  She played the second one off with a cough and ran to the bathroom.

What the fuck is going on?  

She adjusted her bra, which was slipping out of place.  

God, I am a mess today.

Clara took a few deep breaths and worked on her hair in the mirror.  For some reason, she felt it just wasn’t framing her face like she’d have liked.  Her face just didn’t look good to her right now.  Her nose looked too big, her brows looked wrong.  

Jeeze, I never feel like this.

She shook herself out of the mood as best she could and got some water at the fountain on the way back to the cafeteria.  By the time she got back, lunch was almost over.  She rushed to gather her things.  

“All good there girl?” Leanne asked.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”

Clara noticed something as Leanne smiled back at her.  She was taller than Leanne.  Leanne had always been the taller one.  Always.

“Leanne, wait.  Am I taller than you?”

Leanne paused, then walked over.  They stood back to back.  

“Yep, looks like you are!  Guess we all grow in surprising ways,” she said, laughing, “I mean I never thought I would beat you in the boob department.”

Clara looked indignant.  Leanne’s boobs were not...Clara looked down to double check.  The FUCK!  Leanne’s boobs were bigger.  

“Gotta go, Clara, catch you later!”

Clara was livid.  She wanted today over, pronto, but the day dragged on.  Her classes were terrible.  All she could think about was how she was not on the top of her appearance game at all.  She felt ugly, out of place, self-conscious.  She rushed home as soon as she could.  

All Clara wanted to do was beautify and rest so that she’d never experience embarrassment like today again.  She put herself through a harsh beauty regimen.  Waxing, shaving, exfoliating, masking.  It took her hours - even longer than usual.  For some reason, her hair, especially on her armpits and legs, seemed particularly long.  

Her face was driving her nuts.  It looked and heavy.  Normally she felt quite round and cute, but right now she seemed so angular and androgynous maybe?  


After her regimen, Clara prepared herself for a shower.  She stripped off her bathrobe and moved to take her underwear off.  It was then that she froze.  The way that her underwear was stretching over her crotch wasn’t right.  Something was lifting the material.  She tore the panties off frantically.

Her clit was swollen and red, pushing out of its hood.  Clara let out an involuntary “eep!”  She moved to touch it gently, but it was so sensitive that her knees buckled, bringing her shoulder hard against the wall.  Now that she looked, even her lips seemed swollen.  

Clara panicked.  She reached for the medicine cabinet and looked for some Neosporin.  Her hands shaking, she smeared it all over herself.  Oh fuck, I am NOT going to the doctor over this.  Fucking no way.  Oh god its disgusting as fuck.  She ran downstairs, stark naked, and got a pack of peas from the freezer.  Cold stuff helps swollen stuff, right?    

Clara regretted bringing the peas near her increasingly swollen pussy instantly.  The pain felt like an electric shock.  Darkness crawled at the edges of her vision.  She gripped the counter for support.   Ohhhh god.  

She felt like she was going to vomit.  She made for the bathroom again, stumbling against the banister.  Clara was having trouble focusing, but she could have sworn her parts were just getting more and more swollen.  She made it to the top of the stairs, so dizzy she could barely stand, and thought better of going into the bathroom.  Instead, she rushed for her bed, hoping that laying down would calm the spinning.

She bounced off the mattress and almost fell off the other side.  The spinning slowed as she buried her face in her pillow.  Her body itched and ached, especially her chest and crotch.  

Please don’t let me throw up, please don’t let me throw up.

She moaned, stretching herself across the cool blankets, reaching for some unknown relief.  Her head was starting to hurt from the nausea and her face felt hot and sore.  

Sleep.  Just let me sleep.

Clara flopped her hand against her forehead and groaned.  She reached across to the side table and grabbed her cell phone, struggling to unlock it to set an alarm.  Her hands were clammy and shook.  They seemed too big, and clumsy.  

She went to press the alarm app, but instead slipped and opened the video player, which had still been open in the background since lunch.  There was Jess’ video of Petra, paused on a frame containing a full frontal shot of the girl.

Clara stared at her.  Her hips too small, shoulders too wide, her face angular, though not terribly masculine.  A pang of guilt struck her, but she quickly suppressed it.

I she isn’t even really a girl and she’s in there with us.  That’s like totally pervy and invasive.

The guilt rose again, thoughts wormed their way into her head:

“She was just minding her own business.  She definitely wouldn’t make it in the men’s locker room.”

Clara groaned as pain radiated across her body, seemingly from her bones.  

No, the bitch came into this school with an attitude.  She’s an invader.  She made her type clear.

She went to press the home button on her phone, moving her leg absentmindedly as she did.  Her clit brushed hard against the blankets on the bed.  Pain exploded so sudden and intense that Clara dropped her phone off the bed and onto the floor.  

As she writhed, her consciousness finally slipped into darkness.  

*           *           *

Clara awakened with a jolt.  Sunlight trickled in the window.  Her head was groggy and her arms were sore, but her headache was gone, as was the dizziness.  She searched for her phone, unable to remember where she had left it.  

She slipped off the bed and searched the room, avoiding the windows that were cracked open.  When she finally looked under her bed and saw the phone, she remembered the night before and shuddered, hesitating before fishing the phone out from under the bed.  6:30 A.M.

Clara was nervous, too ashamed to go to the doctor, and too in denial to admit things were happening beyond her control.  But none of her strange symptoms were gone, aside from the dizziness.  She tried to ignore her inflamed vulva and just get ready for school as usual, but it was sore and tender so her morning preparations became increasingly complex.  

She thought she would be completely clear for time, but as complication after complication arose, she found herself having to rush more and more.  First, her inflammation made her underwear fit wrong.  She could see her swollen parts form a bulge in the material.  Then, her bra was too loose.  All her bras were too loose.  Finally, none of her clothes seemed to fit on her anymore.  Everything was too small or too tight or too short.

Did Mom shrink every single pair of my clothes before she left?!

It didn’t make sense.  She hadn’t had this problem until this week.  

Fucking bullshit.  

Finally, Clara got herself together and went to leave the house.  She had already begun backing out of her driveway when she realized that she had forgotten her gym bag.

FUCK!  It's gym day!

She rushed back into the house and grabbed the bag, throwing it into the back of the car and speeding out of the driveway.  When she arrived at school she felt sweaty and disheveled.  Checking herself in the mirror of the car, she was entirely underwhelmed by her makeup job.  Her face looked way off from what she liked.  Her nose, cheekbones, jaw, even her brows all seemed just a little too sharp.

Jesus my shoulders look huge.

Clara shook herself out of the distraction and grabbed her stuff.  She was so close to being late that she didn’t even get to say, “good morning” to her friends.  All she got was a weird look from a few of them.  Leanne gave her the weirdest.  

In Collegiate History, she got a moment to talk to Leanne.  

“Dude,” Leanne said, “what is up with you?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Clara said, her voice coming out much deeper than she intended.

“Are you sick or something?  You look like you are having a breakdown.  Not trying to be mean, like, just trying to watch out for ya.”

“Yeah I think I might be sick with something but I’m not gonna go to the doc unless I’m still sick by the weekend.”

“Your voice sounds like hell,” Leanne said, “like I mean no joke you almost sound like a dude.”

Clara reached up and put a hand on her throat.  She didn’t think it was that bad.  While her hand was there, she noticed an odd lump.  

“Hey...Leanne can you tell me if this looks like a swollen gland?”

“What are you talking…”

Leanne leaned in and looked at her neck.

“No, Clara what the fuck.  That looks like a fucking adam's apple.  You on ‘roids or something?”

“Oh god! I don’t have time for your dumb joking, Leanne!  I’m trying to figure out if I’m gonna drop dead because I don’t want to have to go to the doctor until my parents are back!”

“Clara, like, I’m not joking.  It straight up looks like an adam’s apple.  You need to get that checked out, girl.”

Clara clenched her teeth.

“You are NOT helping me at the moment, Leanne!”

She stood up and stormed across the room, selecting a new seat as far from Leanne as she could.

Leanne never fucking knows when to call it quits.

Class sped by and Clara barely heard a word.  She was too busy obsessing over the lump in her throat.  

What if Leanne is right?  What if I have some weird disease that’s making me ugly or something?

The bell rang and Clara rushed out the door, deliberately ignoring Leanne’s attempt to make amends.  She had to get all the way across the campus to gym class, and she didn’t want to look any more disheveled than she already did.  She barreled into the locker room a clean 5 minutes before anyone else even arrived.  

Clara changed quickly and exited to the gymnasium.  Her shorts were riding up, and when she went to fix them, she noticed that her leg hair was already growing back in.  Since yesterday.  

Oh great!  And it’s dark as fuck too!

She growled audibly, her frustration with herself now completely uncontained.  She stormed down the stairs, gritting her teeth.  She didn’t talk to a soul in class.  Everyone was staring at her.  She glared right back at them or gave them the coldest shoulder she could muster.  She even blew off Jess who was loitering outside the locker room when class was over.

Clara slammed the door to her shower stall, breathing heavily.  She had hoped to be able to skip shower today and just go home but her nerves had got her too worked up.  She had two more classes and there was no way she was going to go in without showering at the very least.

She threw off her clothes and avoided looking at herself.  The soreness was easier to ignore if she didn’t look at it.  She turned on the water and slipped into the heat.  Finally, something calmed the soreness all over her body.  

Everything felt so strange to her.  Even the water flowing down between her legs seemed to flow different than usual.  But the heat felt so good.  Clara found herself lingering longer and longer.  She almost felt like she could sleep right there beneath the steady stream of water.  

But then she heard a noise, something like a stool sliding against tile.  Clara’s eyes snapped open and she frantically looked around her, but it was too late.  Ice cold water, dumped from a bucket over the wall from the next stall over, cascaded against her skin.  Pieces of ice crashed against her scalp.  

Clara screamed, rushing out of the shower as a second bucket poured down on top of her.  Panicking, she threw open the shower stall door, slipping on the floor and sliding out into the room.  She tried to right herself, coughing and shivering on the floor, but only succeeded in flailing on the floor.

Clara coughed again and wiped the water from her eyes.  When her eyes focused she realized that nearly every girl in her gym class had come into the shower room to see what had caused her scream.  And everyone was staring straight between her legs.  She tried to muster another scream but terror paralyzed her.  All that came out was a pathetic whimper.  

“Clara, what the fuck,” one of the girls shouted.

Clara tried to stand, but her wobbling legs gave out and she fell to the floor again.  She sobbed, tears welling in her eyes.  

“Yeah, Clara, what the fuck,” another girl said, “I can’t believe you spread that video of the new girl just to take attention off yourself.”

Clara looked up at the girl, her face twisted in confusion.  Then she slowly looked down, between her legs, where everyone else in the room was looking.  Not only was her pussy no longer swollen, but it was no longer there at all.  Instead, she found herself looking at a cock and balls, shrunken somewhat from the cold water and fear, but utterly real.  

Clara couldn’t move.  She just stared at the organ that now resided between her legs.  It was shaved clean, just like her pussy had been, except for a small triangle above.  There was a small scar next to it just like there had been one next to her pussy, from a minor biking accident when young.  Her pussy had always seemed tight and compact, a trait she rather liked, and this was reflected in the new organ too.  It was smaller than most she’d seen, and the balls looked smaller too.  Her cock looked smaller, and her balls were smaller.  

Oh my god.  These are mine.  This cock is mine.

Tears were streaming down her face.

This is wrong!  How?!

“How did this happen?” she mumbled.  

A voice rose above the crowd.

“Alright! Clear out.  Enough is enough.”  

Clara looked up to see Petra forcing her way through the small clump of girls.  

“Get out of here, you idiots!  Go.”

A few girls quickly exited.  Some hung around until Petra feigned a swipe at them.  Eventually all of them were gone.  The last one leaving was Jess, makeup running down her face from tears.  Petra stopped a few feet away from Clara, seeming to tower over the cowering girl.

“Why?” Clara whispered.

“If you really can’t get it, maybe I should extend the curse, huh?”

Clara shook her head hard and sobbed.  

“You just spent the last week humiliating me to the entire school.  You made fun of who I am, what I look like.  You exposed my deepest secrets to a school full of people who do not know me.  More than half the school thinks I’m a man and makes fun of me when I so much as try to go to the bathroom.”

Clara cried out, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“ were born a man...I was not,” Clara whimpered.

“I don’t know.  That dick seems to say otherwise.  You barely even have boobs.”

“I’m NOT a man,” Clara said.

“Neither am I.  But that didn’t stop you from making fun of me for it, humiliating me publicly for your fucking shit social status.   Now you are going to share this burden with me.”

“No, please.  I’ll do anything.  Please undo it,”  Clara slid forward, almost face first in the water on the tile.

“Undo?  There is no undo, Clara.  You’re stuck like this just like me.  You have a dick.  You’ve got a big frame and your boobs are never going back to what they were.  You wanna change that?  You gotta find a different solution just like me.”

“What do you mean?  Wait!  Don’t go!”

Clara stood up, using the stall door as support.  She tried to hide her new genitalia behind her hand but failed.  

“Damn, Clara.  I thought you were smart or something.  Aren’t you aiming for Valedictorian?”  Petra stared at her in disbelief, “You have lost the natural advantages of being born female.  My magic - defensive mind you - has stripped you of most of your physical femininity.  You should pretty much consider yourself assigned male at birth.  Your chromosomes are x-y now.  Your balls are gonna make testosterone.  You’re gonna be horny.  You’re gonna get hard.”

Petra fished into her bag, pulling out two pill containers.

“And if you don’t take these,” she said, offering the containers to Clara, “you’re gonna keep masculinizing until you are basically completely male physically.  You’re always gonna be female mentally, no matter how much you run.”  

Clara scrambled for the pills.  One was labeled, handwritten, “Estradiol,” the other “Spironolactone.”  Both containers had handwritten instructions for dosage.  

“You’ve got money.  I’d get to a proper doc and I’d do it fast.  You wouldn’t want to fuck up your hormone levels.”

Clara gawked at her.  

“No please.  Wait I don’t understand.”

Petra laughed.

“Christ Clara! Jesus!  You are not genetically female.  You need to make a medical correction if you want to get back to somewhere near where you were physically.  You had best learn fast what that means for you because I have a feeling your asshole group is going to prove to be a huge problem now.  I just hope none of them are as cruel to you as you were to me.”

“Why can’t you use your magic to change me?  Why can’t you change yourself?”

“I don’t have that much control.  Most of the time I can barely even use it, but when I’m under attack crazy shit happens.  Once it’s been done, I know exactly what the magic will do.  But I can’t replicate it.  And I definitely can’t reverse it.  I can, however, do something like this…”

Petra snapped her fingers, sending a smoldering green blast straight at Clara’s cock.  Clara flinched, only to find that the blast simply soaked into her skin.  

“Have fun Clara.  Hope you figure it out.”

Clara made to shout after her, but was suddenly distracted by a powerful sensation: warmth and a pleasant straining in her crotch as her cock hardened.  Even hard it was still unimpressive in size, but the arousal that accompanied her first erection was uncontrollable.  She tried desperately to dress herself, to distract herself, but she couldn’t make it go down.  Her cock easily showed through her clothes.  

Clara frantically searched her mind for a solution.

Don’t guys say it gets soft if you have sex?  I could...NO.  NO NO NO.

But her cock wouldn’t go down.  The bell for her next class rang.  Students would be coming in here soon.  For now, she had the showers to herself.  

Shaking, Clara reached down and grasped her cock between her fingers.  Pleasure took over.  She stroked, feeling the new and concentrated drive of invasive testosterone.  She didn’t like it, but she needed release.  She went at it harder and harder, stroking her growing cock.  She looked at it, at her cock, veiny and hard, shaking.  And orgasm took her by surprise.  

Clara came so fast and so hard that she didn’t know what to do.  The sensation was so explosive that she couldn’t help but cry out as her balls emptied themselves onto the floor, the wall, and her own hands.  She fell against the wall of the stall as the last of her first ejaculation leaked out of her softening cock.

She sighed in relief, her cock finally limp.  As her mind cleared of horniness and afterglow, she looked at her clothing and realized that even limp, she was going to struggle to hide her new organ.  

She just hoped she wouldn’t get turned on by anything for the rest of the day.  But something told her she would.  


Honeybee, Honeybee

Into the Depths