Filled with changes

"I mean, she didn't even consider that it might impact your grades, leaving marks like that! …What if you miss out on some people signing up to access your photos, cause they think you're some cheap whore instead of your perfect, innocent little self?!"

Betsy was still loudly railing against Cynthia's misdemeanors an hour or so later. The focus of her fury having slipped out in directions only she would follow it down. She seemed utterly determined that Jesse should be the purest and highest scoring sissy slutwife that ever had there been. As if transferring her own frustrations over academic prowess and the paywall that stopped her having him all to herself onto an idea that he had to be untouchable by any but the most discerning customers.

She had dragged him to the cafeteria, despite the sissy's mewling protestations. His problem still hadn't gone down… and he was beginning to worry there was actually something very wrong. His whole body still tingled with sensitivity, so that even the brush of his own clothing against exposed skin sent sparks across his vision. Betsy had tried to reassure him:

"Don’t be silly… it’s just the new hormone packages the algorithm will have been giving you. I’ve read about this. 1st Class sluts like you get all the most cutting edge treatments and engineering, to make sure they can keep up with whatever their future masters might want.”

The girl even sighed wistfully. Dreaming up the manicured lawns where the idle rich took picnics together along with their leashed collections of creatures like Jesse.

“I hear some mistresses like their pets to have erections that never go away, so they can decorate them with ribbons or jewellery or things. There’s a whole competitive hobby scene around ‘penis arranging’... I think I saved a gallery somewhere I could show you… And hyper-sensitivity is all the rage in cuties like you. That’ll just be how your body will work now, so I expect you’ll get used to what sets it off…”

Betsy seemed to catch herself out there, remembering what had set it off and being swept up again in a fit of fuming jealousy. Jesse just stirred his food around his plate… once again not sure he wanted to eat something that was clearly playing havoc with even his very base senses. Would he be happier, if he just gulped it all down and accepted it? Let the universe make of him what it was clearly determined to. Would that answer all those questions buzzing around his skull, or at least burn them all away? Was that other saccharine voice in the back of his head; the one that was already anxiously wondering if John and Miranda would actually take her out again and a little proudly excited at which marks might still be visible on the Maglev tomorrow; was that really his true self? Could he let himself become her?

Jesse **** himself to eat. Though whether just for survival or towards another aim even he couldn’t tell. His best friend’s hand still kept straying into his lap, unable to resist the draw of his twitching, trembling reactions. Even when Whitney and Claire strode over and settled themselves down opposite, offering more ears for her to fill with targeted vilification. Neither seemed particularly surprised or outraged by Cynthia’s behaviour, but offered the required snorts and snide comments of support regardless. Jesse kept quiet and just tried not to let his overworked nerves overwhelm him. It seemed like the more passionate Betsy became in her decrying of that despicable bitch, the more her spare hand unthinkingly pumped away in the sissy’s crotch. Until, his mind filling with several flashes of blinding light… Jesse realised he was about to make a mess of himself, right there in the middle of the dining hall. The horror of that hovered over him, just waiting for his head to clear from the utter need for release. Except Betsy was a lot more clocked on to what was occurring than he realised. With barely a break in conversation, she leaned down and wrapped her lips around the helmet of him. The sudden, wet warmth of her mouth and tongue letting him buck his small hips upwards and pump stream after stream of semen up into her throat. Holding onto the back of her head for dear life, the teenage femboy looked around in terror for all the eyes that must surely be watching as he simply couldn’t stop cumming for what seemed like a minute or more. Yet… no-one seemed to actually give them more than a glance. Claire and Whitney just kept on talking, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Jesse wound his hands into his best friend’s hair and gasped as her tongue cleaned up every last drop from his now raw and tender cock. Then released her to settle back upright in her seat, gulping and licking her lips. No-one else even blinked. Just another evening’s meal in Home 23.