And awaken as a character on the stage

She woke in silence, eyes half-lidded against the dull light that filtered through the blinds. Her skin tingled. Every breath dragged over her nerves like silk drawn across sunburnt flesh. When she moved, her thighs brushed, and she winced—not in pain, but overstimulation. Everything was new.

Her hand drifted down, and she paused when it met the curve of her breast. She touched it, then cupped it, the weight heavy and impossible to ignore. Her breath hitched. The warmth between her legs hadn't faded. She had nearly forgotten about it, playing with the soft, rolling mountains on her chest, the skin closer to velvet than skin. She was only taken out of her trance-like exploration when something entirely new pulsed like a second heartbeat, low and full, radiating need. Looking down, her cock had at least doubled—no, nearly tripled—in size. From five to thirteen inches, hanging thick and hot.

As her eyes traveled up her body to the rest of her changes, calling herself a woman felt unnaturally easy.

You are whole now, the voice whispered, closer than before. You are beautiful. You are ready to be seen. Shared. Worshiped.

Alex sat up slowly, arms trembling. The world tilted but didn’t spin. Her hair fell past her cheeks in soft waves, brushing her collarbone. She reached between her legs and found both heat and hardness. It only took her standing for her new, larger thighs to rub against each other to give her a sense of how wet her new organ had made her. She didn’t have to look under her balls to know what was there, like a halved orange squeezed between her thighs.

Each step toward the mirror sent lightning through her body. But with a few unsteady strides, she reached it.

What looked back wasn’t what she expected. And yet, it was. Her face. Her body. Amplified. Touched by a hand not hers.

Don’t waste it, the voice murmured. You know what you are now. Don’t you want to be known?

She looked away. Her thoughts moved to old guilt. To shame. To lines she had drawn to protect herself from want.

There’s someone close who would understand, the voice said, gentle but eager. She’s always looked at you too long. Laughed a little too easily. You could show her. She could touch what you’ve become.

Alex flinched. “No.”

Why not? She’s blood. Blood always sees you clearest. You wouldn’t even have to say a word.

“I said no.”

The voice retreated, not defeated, only patient.

Soon, it whispered. You’ll want to be seen. When that time comes, I’ll help you find the perfect eyes.

Alex pulled the blanket over her shoulders, trying to drown the tingling that had not left her skin and the pillar of meat either sticking out between the blanket or making a tent fit for a circus. For every thrill, there was a shiver of unease. Her breasts ached, too heavy and too warm. The strange union between her thighs shifted each time she moved, a constant reminder that her old body was gone.

She pressed her palms to her face. "What the hell did I do?"

You did what you always wanted, the voice cooed. Don’t pretend this wasn’t your fantasy. You’ve dreamed of it. You asked for it in the quiet, where no one could hear you. I just gave you the shape of your truth.

Alex shook her head, but the voice didn’t stop.

There’s power in you now. Beauty that stuns. Need that fuels. You can feel it already, can’t you? The way your thoughts slow when you trace your curves. The hunger.

Her breathing quickened.

It’s not corruption. It’s liberation. Your body is art. Your lust is purpose. Every breath is potential.

Alex bit her lip and curled tighter beneath the covers. She knew she should be afraid. But under the fear was something else. A quiet thrill, pulsing, waiting to bloom. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she needed to find help soon.