Julianne

Bill stared at his reflection, heart hammering as the changes settled deeper. His face had gone soft and pretty, lips fuller, jawline delicate. No stubble would ever grow there again. His body was smooth as a girl’s—every last hair gone—hips flared out, ass rounded and plush, a soft little swell on his chest that looked exactly like budding A-cup tits. Between his legs sat the humiliating proof of his fucked-up wording: a soft, stubby little pecker no bigger than a thumb, nestled above a pair of tiny, tight balls that barely filled the soft pouch of his smooth sac. He was still a guy… mostly. A dickgirl. A pretty little femboy with a pathetic clitty instead of a real cock.

He was still standing there half-naked when the bedroom door swung open.

Julianne froze in the doorway, Greg’s girlfriend, the same girl who’d laughed her ass off at his shriveled cold dick earlier. She was wearing one of Greg’s oversized shirts and nothing else. Her eyes dragged slowly down Bill’s new body—soft face, puffy little chest, flared hips, that tiny, smooth package—and instead of laughing she let out a low, hungry sound.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “Bill… you look… fuck. You look hot.”

She stepped in and shut the door behind her. Bill’s tiny dick twitched helplessly under her gaze.

“I—this is a mistake,” he stammered, voice already lighter. “The book, I—”

Julianne didn’t care. She crossed the room, pushed him back onto his bed, and straddled his slender thighs. Her bare pussy settled right over the soft little mound of his cock and balls. She rocked once, grinding her wet folds against that pathetic package, and Bill’s hips jerked up on instinct.

“You’re so fucking cute like this,” she purred, peeling the shirt off so her tits spilled free. “That little thing between your legs… God, it’s adorable. And the rest of you? Perfect. Soft. Pretty. I want it.”

She reached down, wrapped her fingers around his tiny shaft, and stroked. It stiffened almost immediately—barely three inches hard, slim and pink, the head already shiny with precum. Julianne giggled, low and filthy.

“Look at that. Your little pecker’s already leaking for me.”

She rose up, lined the blunt little head against her entrance, and sank down. Bill’s eyes rolled back as her tight, wet heat swallowed every centimeter of him. She was so much bigger, so much more than his little dick could handle; the stretch was almost nonexistent for her, but for him it was overwhelming. Her pussy lips kissed the base of his shaft and the soft skin of his balls with every slow roll of her hips.

“Fuck… so small,” she moaned, riding him harder. “I can barely feel you, baby, but it’s so hot. Your little girl-cock is trying so hard…”

Bill could only whimper, hands clutching her waist as she used him. His tiny dick throbbed inside her, the friction perfect and cruel. Every bounce made his soft new tits jiggle; every grind made his smooth ass press into the sheets. Julianne leaned down, kissed him deep, and whispered against his mouth:

“Cum for me. I want to feel that little pecker squirt.”

He didn’t last. A few more rolls of her hips and his whole body seized. His tiny cock pulsed hard, shooting weak, watery ropes of cum straight into her pussy. He gasped and shook as the orgasm ripped through him—short, intense, humiliating. His little pecker kept twitching and spurting even after the first few jets, dribbling the last of his load while Julianne kept riding him through it, milking every drop.

That was the exact moment the door opened again.

Greg stood there, frozen, staring at the scene: his girlfriend naked and bouncing on his roommate’s new feminine body, Bill’s soft tits and flared hips on full display, and that pathetic little dick still buried inside her, visibly pulsing as the last weak spurts of cum leaked out around the seal of her pussy.

Julianne didn’t even stop moving at first. She just looked over her shoulder, flushed and smiling, and said, “Hey, babe. Bill’s little pecker just came inside me.”

Greg’s face was unreadable.