I exploit you, still you love me. I tell you one and one makes three

I determined as her eyes fluttered open that I wasn’t going to start calling her Ashley until she asked me. In the same thought, I’d also mentally divided Ash, the femboy I was holding in my arms, from Ashley, the woman that lived in his subconscious. My roommate was Ash. My future roommate and live-in cock socket would be Ashley. I acted like I was shaking off the trance that Ash believed he had induced.

“Well? How did we do?”

“I think it went pretty well.” Ash was beaming, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “But we’ll only really know with some testing.”

He slipped his arms around my neck to pull himself up, then just sat there in my lap, looking at me, staring into my green eyes with his baby blues. I could feel it coming seconds before it did, his lower lip quivering as his eyes dilated. Had he always looked at me like that? Was I just too in my own head to notice that my adorable best friend was into me?

The intersection of surprise and expectation met when our lips did. Ash’s were tentative, but what the hell. His inner her wanted me to take control, so take it I did and forced my tongue between those full pouty pink lips. His breath was sweet and a sharp contrast to the smell of his nervous sweat, as he opened up to me and kissed back with a passion i had rarely seen in him. How long, I wondered, had I been the object of desire for this beautiful boy?

After an interminable period our mouths separated. We sat there, his arms still around my neck, as my own wrapped possessively around his waist, and I observed him in his breathless joy, the blush of earlier becoming a full flush that ran down his neck and decorated his hairless chest and suffusing his cheeks to the point that the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose was obscured. I’d always known that he was pretty in an abstract sense, and that he was small and delicate, but right now he was radiant and looked almost fragile.

Catching his breath, Ash grinned broadly. “Well, that was the first test passed…”

I took my time with things. I wanted him to be climbing the walls with need before I took the next step, knowing that his desire would only make things snowball later on. To this end, I would drop random drive-by kisses, and take any opportunity to grope him (it only now occurred to me that he’d been bending over in front of me to encourage that for years). I would occasionally bring home a random hookup when I knew he was going to have to stay in the dorm. I knew damn well that he’d be too self conscious to stroke off when I was balls deep in either ass or pussy six feet away. There was a small thrill to knowing that he was listening to my grunts and groans, sweating, helplessly hard, wishing that it was him. I took every opportunity to expose myself to him, coming out of the shower in just a towel, wearing tighter pants, and in general just hanging out around the dorm with my shirt off. Throughout I did my best to make sure he had next to no privacy. I didn’t want him seeking relief from his own hand.

I admit that watching him squirm was also a huge turn on.

This program of tease and denial didn’t take too long to start having an effect. His concentration was obviously failing, I’d catch him staring at me, and his day dreaming fugue states started coming more and more often, and would often leave him flushed and sweating. I didn’t want to get to the point of him having nocturnal emissions, but I did want him pent up. Of course this put me on a clock. If I teased too much, he might start having wet dreams and get his release there, but I figured a week was safe. In the meantime, I stocked up on supplies and plotted my course, determining the roadmap for the subjugation and transformation of my best friend for his own good.

A cage was going to have to enter the equation fairly quickly, keeping him locked up and horny would make molding him that much easier; but I needed him to want to wear one. Since a part of him already did, it shouldn’t be that hard to get him to beg me for one. That ass was going to need some work, too flat, and if I didn’t want to shell out for a BBL I’d have to drag him to a gym. Hormones would be pretty easy; the university health center offered gender affirming care, and there was a delicious irony in his conservative parents’ insurance being billed for it. He didn’t need boobs yet, and I’ve always been a fan of puffy hormone nipples anyway, so if they came, they came, or as my crazy Uncle Marty used to say ‘leave the water under the bridge where Jesus flung it’. I’d think about implants further down the road, but not before we went for an orchiectomy, if we ever did. So many things to do… but once I got the ball rolling there would be all the time in the world.

I waited six days. Six days of teasing and plotting. And on the seventh day, like the Judeo-Christian God, I rested. And much like that deity, putting a nice pretty tree in the middle of his garden with a big Do Not Touch sign on it then hiding in the bushes to jump out like like Chris Hanson, I laid a trap.

It had had taken the company four days to make it. I’d picked up the molding kit at the local sex shop and overnighted the cast to them, paid top dollar for round trip overnight shipping, and on the sixth day it was in my mailbox. And here on the seventh day,I left the realistic silicone dong molded from a cast of my own erect cock on Ash’s desk when he was in the bathroom then departed the dorm to read a book for a bit in the commons area.

I plowed through two chapters of Kafka’s Metamorphosis in the time it took my alarm to go off, then went back up to the third floor to listen at the door. The grunts and groans coming through the cracks told me that I’d waited just long enough, and I threw open the door after a couple deep breaths to center myself… the little pervert hadn’t even bothered to lock it.

(Title: Living Color, “Cult of Personality”)