One Month Down

It had been four full weeks—a month—since Aphrodite’s curse took over your life, and each passing day made it clearer that things weren’t going back to normal anytime soon. Every morning now, you could feel it: the way your body had changed, the way you carried yourself, and most annoyingly, the way your breasts now filled out the small A-cup bras you’d bought out of necessity. At first, they were more for appearances than anything else, just something to get by with. But now? Now they actually had a purpose.

The bras had become a daily fixture, not because you wanted to wear them, but because going without had become unbearable. The sensitivity of your nipples was too much—every slight rub against a shirt, a jacket, or even just the way you moved made you wince. The discomfort was intense enough that, despite the embarrassment, the bras became a source of relief. They fit snugly, offering support that made you realize, however begrudgingly, that you couldn’t go without them. And with them came a whole new problem: how to hide them under your clothes.

Your wardrobe had shifted slowly over the past week. You found yourself picking looser tops, layering whenever possible, and even choosing jackets or hoodies just to keep the bra straps and the growing curves of your chest hidden. It felt like a delicate balancing act every morning, trying to maintain some semblance of your old self while navigating this increasingly feminine body. But no matter how hard you tried to hide it, you couldn’t deny the obvious changes when you looked in the mirror.

And there was something else. Something more internal.

You’d been feeling pent up, frustrated, and constantly on edge. The curse hadn’t just affected your appearance; it had done something to your libido too. Whenever you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror—your reflection showing off those budding curves and that feminine walk you now did unconsciously—you couldn’t help but feel a stirring deep inside. It was confusing, infuriating even. You didn’t want to feel turned on by your own body, but every day it was like a switch had been flipped. And no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the desire gnawed at you.

Liam had noticed. Of course, he had. Over the years, he could read you like a book, and apparently, the new you wasn’t any different. He’d caught on to your frustration, maybe even caught you looking a little too long at your own reflection once or twice. It all came to a head one afternoon last week when Liam—ever the bold one—handed you a small, discrete shopping bag.

You had stared at him, confused, and more than a little embarrassed. "What the hell is this?"

Liam had smirked, though you could see he was trying to downplay how awkward this was for both of you. "Look, man… or, I guess, girl now," he had started with a chuckle. "You’ve been, uh, clearly frustrated. I thought this might help. Just… just open it."

Hesitant, you had opened the bag, and your heart nearly stopped. Inside, resting between the tissue paper, was a bright pink dildo.

You’d been mortified. "Liam, what the fuck?!"

But Liam had only shrugged, trying to look casual even though his face was bright red. "You’re practically bouncing off the walls, dude. Or should I say dudette? Look, you don’t have to thank me or anything. Just… you know, it might help."

That moment replayed in your mind over and over since it happened, your face still burning with embarrassment at how ridiculous the situation had been. But as much as you hated to admit it… he wasn’t wrong. The frustration had only been getting worse, and you found yourself staring at that damn dildo more than you’d like to admit. You hadn’t used it yet, but the temptation had been there.

Then there was the texting. Over the last week, you’d been messaging Ashley and Michelle more regularly, all while trying to maintain your Luna persona. They didn’t know who you really were, and you weren’t ready to risk them finding out. There was always the constant anxiety that one slip-up would lead to questions you couldn’t answer. You’d been careful, playing the part as best as you could, but despite all the texting, you hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to bring up the topic of getting Charlotte into the sorority. You didn’t want it to seem like you were trying to use them, especially after how complicated everything had already gotten with Michelle.

Your subconscious, meanwhile, had fully taken over when it came to the way you walked. You didn’t even notice it most of the time, but when Liam checked—and he did, much to your embarrassment—he confirmed it. The sway in your hips, the subtle, feminine shift in your gait had become permanent. It was natural now, something you didn’t even think about. At least you didn’t have the hips to fully flaunt it, which was the only small comfort in the whole mess.

But every now and then, you caught Liam looking at you, a strange expression on his face, like he was still trying to reconcile everything that was happening. And you couldn’t blame him. You felt like a stranger in your own body sometimes, trapped between who you used to be and who you were becoming.

It was confusing, it was maddening, and as the days ticked by, you knew that time was running out. You were one trial down, but there were still more to go. And with Aphrodite involved, you knew things were only going to get harder.

You and Liam sit down at the small kitchen table, both of you exhausted from the day. The bags of shawarma you picked up on the way home sit between you, the fragrant spices wafting through the air, but neither of you says much as you dig in. It's one of those nights where cooking was completely out of the question, and this was the best you could manage after a long day of lectures and stress.

As you unwrap your shawarma, Liam glances at you, clearly wanting to say something. You know that look. Finally, he breaks the silence.

"Have you asked about Charlotte yet?"

You sigh, glancing down at your food and shaking your head. "No, not yet. I’m just... I don’t know, man. I don’t want Michelle to think I’m just using her, you know? Like, we’re just texting, and I don’t want to bring it up and seem like an asshole."

Liam wipes his mouth, frowning a little. "Dude, I get it. But we don’t exactly have time to worry about that. Aphrodite made it clear that the trials are only going to get harder. We barely made it through the first one. We can’t afford to wait too long before figuring out what the next one is."

You nod, but the unease is still there. "I know, I know. But it just feels weird asking her for something so big. It’s a huge favor, and I don’t know how to repay that."

Liam takes a deep breath, thinking for a moment. "Maybe promise her that you’ll make it up to her. You know, keep paying her back for the favor. She’s into you as Luna, right? Just… lean into that and offer something in return." He grabs your phone, tapping away for a moment before handing it to you. "Here. You can word it however you want, but just… get it done, man. We’re running out of time."

You stare at the screen for a moment, hesitating. The message is simple enough, but the weight of it feels heavy. You know that sending this is the next step toward completing Aphrodite's trial, but that doesn’t make it any easier. With a deep breath, you type out a quick message, promising to repay Michelle however you can and subtly asking for her help with getting Charlotte into the sorority.

You hit send.

Silence falls between you both as you continue to eat, the only sounds in the room coming from the wrappers and your chewing. It feels like there's something unspoken hanging in the air, though, something you’ve been avoiding for a while now. Finally, you decide to address the elephant in the room.

You put your food down and look over at Liam, your voice a little hesitant. "So… about what Aphrodite did to you. Is it true? You really… can’t get hard?"

Liam looks up from his food, pausing for a moment before he nods, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "Yeah. It's true."

You wince a little. The whole situation was messed up, but you had to know more. "Like… at all? Have you tried, you know, thinking about stuff?" The idea makes your skin crawl, but you need to understand.

Liam sighs, clearly uncomfortable. "Yeah, man. I’ve tried everything. Thoughts, pictures, whatever. It’s like… it’s just not happening unless you’re—" He cuts himself off, but the implication is clear.

You feel your stomach twist. It’s gross. It’s wrong. "Wait, so you've tried it? Tried thinking about... me?" The thought alone makes you shudder, and you can’t help the disgust creeping into your voice. "Dude, that’s messed up."

Liam looks frustrated, leaning back in his chair. "You think I want this? You think I like it? I didn’t ask for this shit either! Aphrodite made it so I can’t get hard unless it’s… you. I don’t have a choice!"

The conversation is quickly heating up, and you both fall into a tense silence. As gross and uncomfortable as the situation is, it’s clear that this isn’t Liam’s fault. He’s been caught in this mess just as much as you have. You take a deep breath, trying to calm down, your mind racing. The reality is, he’s stuck like this, and if you don’t do something, he’s never going to get any relief.

As much as the idea repulses you, Liam is your best friend. He’s been there through every moment of this nightmare, supporting you without hesitation. And now, it seems like he’s the one who needs help.

"Look," you begin slowly, swallowing your pride, your disgust. "I don’t know how to even say this, but… what if I helped you out? I mean… it’s clear that you’re stuck like this. And… I owe you for everything you’ve done for me, man. You’ve had my back this whole time. I’m just saying… maybe I could do the same for you."

Liam looks at you, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of relief. But he doesn’t jump at the offer. Instead, he mirrors your delicate approach, clearly trying to make sure this conversation doesn’t blow up. "Are you… are you serious? You don’t have to do that, you know. I don’t want to put you in a weird spot. But if you’re really offering, then…"

You bite your lip, hating that this is even a conversation. But you know what’s at stake here. You nod, trying not to get too angry or grossed out as you continue. "I mean, if that’s what it takes for you to, you know… get off, then yeah. I’ll help you out. But let’s… just take it one step at a time, alright? No weird stuff. Just… get it over with."

Liam looks at you, and for a moment, you both just sit there, letting the weight of the situation sink in. The bond between you, this strange, twisted thing, feels even more complicated now. But you can’t ignore the fact that this might be the only way for Liam to find any relief.

And with the trials ahead, you know that your friendship is going to be tested in ways you never thought possible.