A lonely IT company worker who's just moved to a new city (female).

Without even bothering to open her eyes, Brooke pulled the covers tighter around herself. When the weekend came around, any time was a good time to sleep in.

Especially if you had nowhere to be or anything to do.

It was the peril anyone would encounter moving to a new city, really. FaceTime, text, or even a phone call from her friends or parents could only alleviate the homesickness she felt for going across the country. It wasn't helped by the odd hours the tech company was having her work (ostensibly to help her "learn the expectations your programming position entails," but really to shove anything the higher ups didn't feel like doing). Every attempt to join a club or find an organization to volunteer with ended in failure. Who could make time when every moment you weren't slaving away meant you were sleeping? Even trying to reach out to the other tenant who lived there hadn't worked. Anna Koyama was so quiet and reserved that half the time Brooke forgot she was there with her and really only remembered she was still present whenever she heard the dishes being done in the sink or having their apartment's water pipes groan to life.

Hell, Brooke didn't even know what Anna did for a living.

Pushing thoughts of her enigmatic roommate aside, Brooke did her best to let dreamland overtake her. Yet try as she might, not even the hypnotic sound of the fan's blades spinning above her could let her drift off again. After what felt like an eternity she reached to pull the covers down and cracked an eye open. Sunlight streamed through the nearby window next right into her face as if God Himself had decided to intervene. With an exaggerated sigh Brooke began to disentangle herself. No sense in moping around feeling more sorry than she already did.

Running a hand through her short hair Brooke swung her legs over the side and stood up, every bone cracking in protest at the sudden movement. Stifling a yawn she stood up and stretched, this time causing her back to put up much the same resistance the rest of her had at leaving the safe confines of Brooke's bed. With that out of the way, she began the arduous march to her door.

Despite feeling like her office was functioning more like home than her actual abode did these days, Brooke was quite proud that it hadn't become a complete pigsty. Clothes, despite the occasional straggler, were either in a drawer, her closet, or hamper. Books and movies were firmly on the shelf they belonged. Anything embarrassing like the bong she used to bring out whenever her friends brought weed over or her vibrator are hidden away from prying eyes.

Not like she'd had much time to use either of them.

Brooke doesn't even bother to look to see if Anna is anywhere nearby. The girl's life is practically confined to the living room, her room downstairs, and occasionally their shared bathroom on the second floor. The fact that no running water can be heard - and that it's likely midday - means that she's in the clear as far as her privacy is concerned.

Stepping onto the cool tile, she's practically a robot as she automatically reaches for her toothbrush to begin brushing. As she stands there, repetitively moving the item back and forth, today's schedule worms its way to the forefront of her thoughts. On the one hand, Brooke could always head over to the library; she'd realized the other day that she'd read everything she owned at least twice now. On the other, a gym membership was sorely in order as she'd begun to notice just the tiniest hint of flab around her midsection from all the sitting she was doing at work and the fast meals she'd had to buy just to keep her going. On the other hand, the easiest thing to do would be to just stay in, curl up in a blanket with a cup of tea, and finish watching her box set of Sliders.

Spitting into the sink, she paused, taking a moment to examine her face for a moment to check for any zits, blackheads, or anything of the sort before she unceremoniously reached for the bottom of her tank top and threw it up over head and onto the floor. Her sweatpants were the next thing to go as she shimmied out of the black pair she'd slept in and, without much thought, her fingers tugged at the edge of her underwear, sliding it off. It took all of three seconds as she stood there, standing in front of the mirror, before Brooke had to throw a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.

Modesty aside, she was an attractive woman; Brooke didn't need anyone else to tell her that. With bright green eyes, flaming red hair, creamy white skin, a killer smile, and a figure that caused one too many stares whenever she put effort into her appearance, Brooke had had her fair share of admirers over the years. But now her mind was struggling to put the square peg through the round hole of the situation she found herself in. Gone was the perfectly hairless pussy that had been there last night when she'd gone to bed. Instead, as Brooke's eyes traveled down from her 'girls' to her crotch, she was face to face with a dick, a penis, the organ hanging lazily like a snake along the length of a branch, sitting atop a ball sack.

Turning herself around in a circle, Brooke watched somewhere between fascination and horror as the alien set of genitalia shook and swayed with the movement. She reaches down and pinches a part of it, immediately withdrawing her fingers as pain shoots through her. That seemed to confirm, at least, that whatever was happening to her wasn't a dream. She really had grown a penis and scrotum seemingly overnight.

A million thoughts fly through her mind as she stares at her mismatched genitalia in the mirror. Was it because she'd somehow gotten exposed to some extremely funky chemicals? It'd been forever since she'd taken chemistry, but nothing she could think of would result in something like this happening. Radiation? There'd been nothing on the news about a power plant leak, never mind the fact that that too was an impossibility. It'd sooner give her cancer.

Brooke takes a deep breath, closing her eyes, and exhaling. There would be time to worry about the 'how' later; as much as she felt that panic would overwhelm her only seconds ago, the rational part of her mind tells her that doing so wouldn't do her any good anyway. As she casts a glance behind her to the shower, she has to admit that the thought of getting clean is appealing, if only because it'd help restore a small amount of normality to what is rapidly becoming the most bizarre day of her life. Nodding to herself, she makes her way towards the stall and reaches for the tap to turn it on.

After a moment of waiting for the heater to do its magic and make the water bearable, the droplets touching her skin feel almost heavenly, and she stands there, simply letting them fall against her. She's lucky enough that her breasts block the view of her new unwanted 'friends' because even with her current state of zen she isn't sure that she could handle constantly seeing it.

That said...

A small part of Brooke is curious about what it's like to have a dick. It's never been something she'd even considered before, but the strange circumstance she finds herself in almost makes her want to take advantage of it. After all, depending on how long it takes a doctor to fix her, she was likely to be completely free of cramps or the "monthly bloodletting" (as she likes to call it) for a while. But she hesitates. To do so would be to officially acknowledge the fact that reality had completely flipped upside down. In a sense, it was almost as if exploring her body after the fact would somehow make the change permanent.

She stands there underneath the running water, letting it run down her thighs and over new unfamiliar curves, mulling her options. It'd be easy to simply do what she needs to and leave; no one would shame or judge her for trying to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Yet a part of her is tempted to give things a go. Just the same, no one is present to see her take her first joyride. There's an allure to it all that she can't shake and in the end her curiosity wins out.

Brooke's fingers wander south to her newly acquired package, gently running along her length, the warm skin that greets her feeling oddly soft to the touch. She makes no sudden movements, of course. Men that'd come in and out of her life had taught her that taking things slow was for the best. Not to mention the fact she hasn't bothered to grab something to help ease things along.

Glancing up at the shower caddie, she scans the various bottles that are present and eventually settles on a lavender scented lotion. As awkward as it is to try and press down on the pump with one hand, she manages, and the purple liquid squirts onto her free palm without any further trouble. Positioning herself to face away from the stream so as to preserve her prize, she begins to slather it against her long member.

A small gasp tumbles its way past her lips. Before her motions were beginning to feel weirdly pleasant, but her aid makes the tugging and pulling of her foreskin feel amazing. This was far different than what she did before, that was for certain. When the world still made sense, it always took her a while to get herself going. It was a far different sensation to have her desire slowly spread throughout her until the embers she felt became a roaring blaze rather than being able to have it be concentrated in one place. She'd always wondered in the past why it was men seemingly couldn't get enough of playing around with their junk, whether they had someone to help them or not. Yet the fact that one could feel this incredible with only a few short strokes was its own reward, really. The pleasant haze beginning to settle over Brooke almost overtakes her, but she forces herself to concentrate. As nice as all of this is, if there's nothing to focus on, no 'prize' to think of, then it isn't nearly as fun.

Troy.

Much as Brooke hates to admit it, some part of her still misses him. No matter how much of an asshole he'd been, the sex had been incredible. No one else before or after him had been able to make her scream as loudly as he had and he'd at least had the decency to apologize to her if he'd made her furious with an orgasm or two. More than she'd care to admit, Brooke missed being able to lay her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as they lay together in their post-coital afterglow, a hand delicately placed across his statuesque figure.

Blond hair...

Chiseled jawline...

Apollo's belt...

A nice, tight ass...

A hand reaches to one of her breasts, tweaking the nipple back and forth, a growl escaping her throat as her toes curl. The stiffness of her new organ has become a dull throb but not an unpleasant one by any means. There's something about the combination of soreness mixed with the primal ecstasy building within her that's utterly intoxicating. As much as Brooke hates to admit it, maybe for the first time she understands the allure of the enormous tool in her hands and the need to put it to good use.

Idly, Brooke wonders what it'd be like to have Justin underneath her, her hips slamming into him as she enters him and makes him hers. One of his ears, which she's leaned into, is gently but firmly between her teeth as his screams are muffled into the pillow around his face. The speed in which she's thrusting is probably hurting him more than a little, though she doubts for something this sloppy that they're using lube, and she'll call all the emotional hell he put her through more than enough to call them even. He leans into her, helping her dick bury itself into his core, as she asserts her dominance. Then...

She doesn't even bother to keep quiet as she lets out a loud groan, her penis twitching rapidly as its contents exit her. Spurt after spurt of cum hits the glass door in front of her, sliding down the wet surface as her testicles empty their heavy load. Brooke doesn't move for a movement, both to ensure that she's finished and the fact that she feels almost exhausted from her fantasy lovemaking, but eventually she opens her eyes. Glancing at her handiwork, Brooke lets her breath steady before finally turning to the washcloth next to her on the small alcove.

"Fuck, that was incredible..."