Outside, with Neal Finigan

What a fucking disaster of a day, Neal Finigan cursed silently to himself as he made his way home from what was supposed to have been a full dress rehearsal of “A Midsummer’s Night Dream.” He felt like he was about to puke his guts out. He had a terrible feeling he’d picked up a bad case of food poisoning. He swore even his fake tits were aching.

Neal was majoring in theater arts. At five foot-two and a hundred and ten pounds he figured he had at least ten years or so of playing high-school characters in Disney movies and bad TV shows in his future. Not exactly a thrilling prospect for an actor who dreamed of greatness. With his bone structure and skills, if he’d been born a girl he’d have been on the fast train to fame and fortune, but as a boy of modest inches his choice of roles was severely limited. Young characters, and gays. That didn’t stop him from constantly practicing his skills until he could fall into any role and disappear into the character.

In an effort to distract himself from the feeling of his insides trying to become his outside, Neal focused on his present situation.

The rehearsal had been cancelled because none of the female cast members had shown up for it out of fear of being **** if they set foot outside their dorm room. Neal could understand that, even if he couldn’t help but wish that all of them except for, Christi, fucking, Carmical had shown up.

Neal had tried out for the role of Puck, but it had gone to a female actress, Christi, of course. What else would you expect at Woke U. In Neal’s opinion Christi’s talent was mostly in her tits. Which were as fake as the ones Neal was currently wearing. But Neal had managed to nail the audition for understudy. Sure, he had to be made up to look as close to Christi as possible, but he was an actor. Dressing as a girl was no big deal. There was a long tradition of boys playing females on the stage, especially in Shakespeare. He was playing Puck, not a female. Puck was a spirit, he/she had no gender. Or so Neal told the director. It had been a hard sell, but Neal was the only one who could look remotely like Christi, and had the acting chops to pull the role off. It wasn’t like he could blow the guy like Christi had done to get the role. Maybe if it had been for the actual role and not just the understudy, he had joked to Sam.

Neal had lots of practice playing females as it happened. He cosplayed anime girls at fan conventions all the time, and had gotten really good at it. His best was Ranma-chan, from the anime Ranma 1/2. The fact she was supposed to be a boy turned into a shortstack made her much easier to portray than some of the girly-girl waifus. Neal had a set of oversized D-cup silicone boobs he’d bought online that had paid for themselves a dozen times over. They were mounted on a full bib with a neck piece that could easily be blended into his own skin with a bit of makeup. They’d even helped him land the role of understudy for Puck, which was why he was currently wearing them.

Neal’s friend Sam liked to dress as Natsuru Senu from Kampfer for much the same reason Neal liked to play Ranma-chan. Natsuru was a guy turned into a girl by magic.

Unfortunately for Sam, the very masculine boy had a harder time playing the character than Neal. Which was ironic considering that Sam was the gay one. Sam usually had to play it off as a gag costume, not even trying to appear feminine. Which was sad, because Neal knew Sam would give his nuts, literally, to be a girl for real.

Neal didn’t have any trouble passing as a girl, however. With his slight build and baby face he was very rarely outed as a guy when he went all out with the makeup. He could usually count on scoring major bucks from fans at conventions wanting to get their pictures taken with the character he was dressed as. At five dollars a shot it added up. Plus, he had an advantage over real girls who cosplayed. When the pervy types couldn’t resist fondling Neal’s oversized tits, all they got was a handful of silicon. Not that Neal ever let on. He had the scream of outrage down pat, and it often scored him at least fifty, if not a hundred, bucks to keep him from calling security on their scummy asses. He had learned how to spot the type and it was easy to convince them he’d be okay with a little tity grab, without actually doing or saying anything that was incriminating. It wasn’t his fault the pervs couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. All told he could usually count on scoring at least am extra thousand bucks just from the pervs at a three day convention.

It was profitable, and a great way to practice his skill. There was no better testament to how well he portrayed a sexy girl than to see a bulge grow in another guy's pants from simply pressing your fake double Ds into his arm, or letting your hand brush, for just a second, across their thigh, close, but not quite touching their junk. He liked to think that a thirty second interaction with him provided some of those losers with stroke material for the entire weekend of the convention, and maybe much longer. He bet some of them would stroke off for years over the pictures they took with his character.

Of course with the fanboys it was a bit like shooting fish in a barrel. The odds that most of them had never touched a real girl who was not a relative. The guys he really loved to target, to really put his skills to the test, were the hunks and jocks. They were a rare breed as actual con-attendees, though there were usually some. Problem was that they were usually accompanied by a girlfriend. Neal’s favorite target was the guys working security. The bigger and beefier the better. The ones who thought they were god’s gift to women and spent most of their time ogling the pro cosplay girls.

On the rare occasion when security actually had to be called on a guy who would not take no for an answer, Neal was always ever so grateful to the big strong guy who had come to his rescue. And easily implied, without actually saying anything, that you’d be happy to thank them. lLater.

When you got them so hard that they had to go on break to take care of it you knew you were an actor. Neal especially loved the ones who actually thought he was going to show up at a hotel room to meet them for a little lovey-dove. Thinking of those oversized studs who loved to sneer at short slim guys like him sitting in their hotel room, their cocks aching for the chance at screwing the hot girl that had come onto them on the convention floor made Neal feel all warm and fuzzy.

Ah, good times. Neal thought. Unlike these times, what with the alien’s screwing up the world and the fucking food poisoning that was twisting his guts into knots.

“You there, stop! What are you doing out alone.!” A voice yelled from across the quad. Neal looked up to see one of campus security marching toward him.

“Speak of the devil,” Neal muttered to himself as he watched the familiar figure coming close. Dickhead Dick, an ex-cop who was the butt of jokes because he thought he had some actual authority. As if the administration at Woke U. would side with a former cop over one of their students. He was there to hand out parking tickets and fines, and to loom behind the people with real authority when the occasion called for it. Dickhead was particularly hated because he loved to give female students a hard time and was very good at toeing the line between handing out warnings, and actual **** of authority. He would have been a real terror to the students back in the sixties, but in the present day and age he was just a joke.

It was why Neal had loved messing with him the one time Dickhead had picked up some spare change working security at an on-campus con. Neal had given him both barrels and spent an hour hanging with him. The guy had been so blue-balled by the end he had to keep adjusting himself whenever he thought Neal wasn’t looking.

“Answer me. Don’t you know there is a curfew? No girls allowed outside their room unless accompanied by a male!”

Neal’s first reaction was annoyance at being mistaken for a girl, followed a second later by the realization he was still in his stage makeup complete with fake boobs. Of course Dickhead thought he was a girl. “Sorry, officer. Truth is I’m not a girl. I’m a guy. I’m a theater major. I was on my way home from a full dress rehearsal that was canceled because of the situation.”

“Wait a second! I know you! You’re that little cock-tease from that geek convention! You little bitch!” Dickhead yelled out of the blue. He looked like he was about to strangle Neal, but then an evil smile spread over his face. “Must suck to be you now. Can’t get away with cock-teasing some guy without having to come across. Tell me cock-tease, you got a man yet. Pretty hefty fine for guys who let their females wander around unaccompanied. Us guys have to look out for you girls now. Make sure your well topped up with cum so some random guy doesn't snag you and turn you into their personal fuck toy.”

“I told you I’m not a girl! That doesn’t apply to me!” Neal told Dickhead, trying to keep his voice calm and reasoned.

“With those tits? Yeah, tell me another, cock-tease. So I take it you don’t have a guy. Lucky for you I have an available slot so I’ll just fix that for you.”

To Neal’s horror Dickhead’s hands went to his belt and he began to undo the front of his pants.

“Wait! Are you nuts. I just told you I’m a guy!” Neal protested, backing away. “Look, I’ll show you!” he said as he started to unbutton his top.

“Get on your knees, cock-tease,” Dickhead growled, pulling his belt loose from his pants and holding it looped in his hands.

“No! Fuck you, Dickhead! I’m a guy!” Neal cursed as he finally got his top open and his oversized silicone breasts popped out. “See!” Neal grabbed his fake boob bib, intending on yanking it away from his body to show they were fake. He ended up almost dropping to his knees as pain flared through his chest from where he had dug his fingers into the fake tits. Neal was wearing fake nails and as he looked down in horror he saw a he had cut himself and actual real blood was trickling from a scratch on his fake tits. At some between when he had put them on and now, the oversized silicone boobs that somehow had become real.

“No, this can’t be happening, this is a dream! It has to be a dream! Neal said in a panicked voice. “I’m a guy!”