You stay, but you tell Drew to keep his hands off of you.

You are still a little foggy despite your startling and sobering transformation and you definitely don't want to be caught unawares by anyone walking back to your dorm. You came to Drew's dorm in the first place because you felt safe with him bimboi or not. That ended up backfiring spectacularly, but that isn't entirely his fault, and he definitely seems apologetic. You decide you are safer with his help than without it. You answer peevishly, "Fine. I'll stay! But I'll need some clothes that don't leave my fucking tits hanging out and I'm not going to ever let you touch me again so you can forget about 'helping' me with my cravings. Just give me a buttplug and don't ever mention how I 'helped' you ever again!"

You feel a little guilty as your friend sheepishly nods and goes to find some clothes and 'accesories' for you to wear. You remind yourself that he's the one that got you high and asked if you wanted to fool around in the first place, and then you remember that he offered to jerk off in his bathroom and you were the one that asked him to stay and offered a helping mouth and then ass. Somehow, that doesn't exactly make you feel better. You notice he found a flannel for himself and realize you must have made him feel selfconscious about his tits. You shrug it off, more concerned with your own embarrassment at the moment and grab the butt plug, boxers, baggy sweats, t-shirt and hoodie he hands you.

"Thanks." You mutter a little more kindly. You take a look at the buttplug and curse your earlier eagerness to find out what getting fucked felt like. You suppose you can't try to argue that you're 100% a stud after sucking then riding a rubber clad cock, but it's still a tough pill to swallow...especially rectally. You decide it's better to get this out of the way, pushing it up between your soft, sizable cheeks and shocked and more than a little scared by how eagerly your ass swallows the toy.

Your hole starts squeezing around the plug, and you feel your cock swell immediately to full mast. It's bigger than it was before, but much smaller than Drew's. You stare in horror as it throbs and twitches untouched and finally shoots a thick stream of semen halfway across the room as your ass milks your plastic plug harder. You writhe on the ground in agony, the pleasure feeling way better than anything you felt as a boi, but somehow not nearly good enough. Your body begs from more, wanting a better taste of the foul phallus that got you into this mess in the first place. You are hit with cold sweats and a deep ache, and Drew stays just out of reach calmly explaining, "It's the worst the first time. Your body is basically starving right now. It wants to feed on cum, preferably uninfected but any kind will calm the cravings for a bit." Drew blushes and lowers his eyes, "even your own."

You sigh in frustration and crawl over to the line your load left as it landed on the floor. Not seeing any point in modesty at this point, you lick it up as quickly as you can, telling yourself you barely notice how decadently delicious it tastes. More importantly, it works almost immediately. Your body stops hurting and you can almost think straight again. That is, if thinking you can't wait to get some alone time to see if you can suck yourself off is thinking 'straight'.

Wanting to get dressed before you do something stupid, you shake the cumwebs out of your head and pull on the boxers. It's a struggle to fit them over your plumper ass and they split embarrassingly down the back. Worse still, they itch like crazy. You feel like a family of fire ants started chewing on your crotch. You shimmy out of them as quickly as you can and scream, "What the fuck did you put in those?!"

Drew looks guiltier than ever, and you know you aren't going to want to hear what he has to say even before he says, "You aren't going to want to hear what I have to say, but here goes. The bimbug affects us all a little differently. I'm still the same guy I was before, only now my body reminds me that even before this I was more than a little curious about fooling around with guys. I mean, let's be real, we jerked off a looooooot together for two 100% straight guys. So I can still wear boi clothes and be myself, only being myself means occasionally finding a stud big enough to pin me and fuck the spurts out of me."

You feel oddly moved by his honesty, and a little scared too. If he's telling the truth, then that means the reason you can't wear boi clothes is, "Wait a sec! Are you saying I'm itching because I really secretly want to wear panties?! Is this just a trick to get me to dress all girly and fuck me again?!" You know it's unfair even you spit out the words, but being angry feels slightly better than feeling ashamed.

Drew shrugs and lets your insulting accusation slide off his back. "I don't know why you became what you did. I don't know if anyone knows exactly why all this is happening. Maybe Hell is full and the succubi are walking the earth. I just know that with other infected folk I've met, the itching never goes away. So you either go crazy, or..." he tosses you a pair of plaid panties and a matching bra, no doubt from one of his sissy conquests, "you can always layer. Apparently it's a reaction to the skin. So you can wear panties under your boxers and a bra under your top. I know it's not ideal, but I can leave the room while you change if you want."

You want to tell him it's pretty fucking far from ideal. It's not even on the same hemisphere as ideal. Ideal might as well be a planet on the otherside of the universe for how close you'll ever get to it for the rest of your life. Then again, do you really have a choice? It's this or the maddening itch.