Self Care

The room is dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside filtering through the blinds. You’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlpool of thoughts that refuse to settle. The second trial… Marcus Chase… how the hell are you going to pull this off?

Liam is fast asleep on the other side of the room, his slow, rhythmic breathing the only sound breaking the silence. It should be comforting, knowing your best friend is right there, but instead, it’s like a reminder of how insane everything’s gotten. How did your life spiral so quickly from university lectures to being cursed by Aphrodite, facing impossible trials, and undergoing a transformation that’s blurring the lines of your identity?

You shift uncomfortably under the covers, feeling the bra you now have to wear digging into your skin. The weight of your chest is new, unfamiliar, yet now something you’ve learned to tolerate. It’s hard to believe that only a few weeks ago, you were flat-chested, just trying to survive Aphrodite’s curse. Now, your body’s changed in ways you never imagined.

Your mind keeps circling back to Marcus Chase. How are you supposed to seduce him? A-list actor, incredibly famous, and probably surrounded by women at that lavish party Dionysus is throwing. And you’re supposed to stand out? Attract his attention, make him desire you? You don’t even fully recognize yourself anymore, let alone have the confidence to make someone like him fall for you.

You sigh, turning onto your side, glancing toward Liam’s sleeping form. He’s been a rock through all of this, helping you navigate these bizarre situations, even making sacrifices of his own. But the weight of the curse is on you, and you know it. The more you think about it, the more the pressure builds in your chest.

Your body feels tense—tight. You haven’t had a release in… well, it feels like forever. And lately, there’s been this constant, gnawing sensation inside you. Something… unfamiliar, like an itch you can’t quite scratch. You close your eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but it’s no use. The need is there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, it hits you. The dildo.

Liam had awkwardly handed it to you a week ago, insisting that it might help, despite how humiliating it felt. You’d shoved it away at the time, unwilling to even entertain the idea of using it. After all, you’re a guy. You’re supposed to want something else. But now, lying here, with your mind racing and your body aching for relief, you’re wondering if maybe he was right.

You clench your fists under the covers, feeling your heart race as the internal debate begins. The idea of using it feels wrong—like crossing a line you’re not sure you’re ready to cross. It’s not like you want this transformation. It’s not like you chose to have a body that’s part of Aphrodite’s sick game. You’re a man, despite how your body’s changing, and using something like that… it just feels so weird. So unnatural.

But… the more you think about it, the more you can’t ignore the growing frustration in your body. Maybe it’s just the curse messing with your head, or maybe it’s the weight of everything you’ve been dealing with, but right now, all you want is some kind of release. Some way to let go of all the tension that’s been building up for weeks.

Your eyes drift toward the drawer where you’d stashed it. It’s just sitting there, untouched. The thought of actually using it makes your heart pound harder, your stomach twisting in knots.

“What the hell am I doing?” you whisper to yourself, rubbing your forehead. You’re not that far gone, are you?

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling again, feeling like your mind is split in two. Part of you is screaming that this is insane, that this is just the curse getting to you. But the other part—well, the other part just wants to give in. Just once. Just to feel… something.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, your mind replaying the same argument over and over. You’ve tried ignoring it. You’ve tried pushing it away. But nothing’s worked.

You glance over at Liam again, making sure he’s still asleep. He’s out cold, completely unaware of the inner turmoil tearing you apart on the other side of the room.

With a deep, shaky breath, you finally sit up in bed. Your hand moves almost on its own, reaching toward the drawer. Before you can second-guess yourself, you pull it open and grab the dildo, feeling the weight of it in your hand. It feels foreign, strange, but it’s there. And you’re holding it.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at it. “Screw it,” you mutter under your breath, feeling a weird mix of dread and anticipation swirl inside you.

Tonight’s the night. You’re going to use it.

You sit there in the dim light of the room, the dildo in your hand feeling awkwardly heavy as you stare at it. Your heart’s pounding so hard you can practically hear it in the silence. Everything about this feels wrong, but it’s like your body has a mind of its own, pushing you toward something you’ve tried so hard to resist.

Your fingers tighten around the toy, a nervous lump forming in your throat as you glance once more toward Liam’s bed. He’s still dead asleep, completely oblivious to what’s going on with you, to the turmoil you’re grappling with. It’s better this way. He doesn’t need to know.

Taking a shaky breath, you lift the covers and slowly shift out of your pants, leaving just the panties you’ve been wearing to keep things comfortable. Even that feels weird. The fabric clings in ways that remind you—**** you to acknowledge—that your body isn’t what it used to be. There’s nothing down there to hide anymore. Just… you.

You swallow hard, feeling your body tense up as you settle back against the pillows. Your mind is racing, but there’s no turning back now. With trembling hands, you slide the panties down, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability as you lay there, exposed to the cool air. You’re fully aware of how much you’ve changed since Aphrodite’s curse began. How different everything feels down there.

Your chest is tight with anxiety, and you can feel your cheeks burning. Even though you’re alone—well, as alone as you can be with Liam in the same room—this still feels humiliating. Why am I doing this?

The answer is right there, lurking in the pit of your stomach. Because you need this. The constant frustration, the strange, unfamiliar arousal that’s been gnawing at you for days now—it’s like it’s all come to a head. And if you don’t do something about it, you’re going to lose your mind.

Your breath hitches as you bring the dildo closer, feeling the smooth, cold material brush against your thigh. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure if you can actually go through with this. But then the ache in your body—that feeling—comes roaring back, and it’s enough to push you over the edge.

Slowly, carefully, you guide the toy down between your legs, feeling a wave of heat build inside you as it presses against your entrance. The touch makes you gasp, your body tensing as an unfamiliar surge of pleasure ripples through you. It’s nothing like what you’re used to, but… it’s not bad either. It’s intense.

Your breath comes out in ragged, shallow gasps as you push it in just a little further, the sensation making you squirm. The walls of your—well, your body—clench around the toy, and the newness of it sends another shock of pleasure through your system. You can’t help it—your body’s betraying you, responding to this in ways that feel completely foreign.

You bite down hard on your lip, trying to keep quiet, but you can’t help the tiny whimper that escapes your throat. And when you hear it—a soft, high-pitched sound—you freeze. That wasn’t me. That couldn’t have been me. But the truth hits you just as quickly. Of course, it was. Your voice is feminine now, just like your body. You sound like a girl, and every little noise you make only reminds you of that fact.

It takes everything you have not to scream in frustration, but the pleasure that’s building inside you is stronger than your anger. With each shallow movement, with every tiny shift of the toy, you feel your body reacting more and more. The heat is building, and no matter how much you try to focus on anything else—Liam’s snoring, the ticking of the clock on the wall—all you can think about is the way it feels.

Your breath hitches again as you start moving the dildo just a little deeper, pushing it in and out slowly, cautiously. The sensation is overwhelming, sending ripples of pleasure that make your legs tremble. You’ve never felt anything like this before. Why does it feel so good?

Your hands are shaking, and you have to bite down on your lip again, harder this time, just to keep the moans at bay. Every little sound that threatens to escape your lips is too girly, too high-pitched, and it’s humiliating. You don’t want to sound like that, but you can’t help it. Your body is betraying you in more ways than one.

“Shit…” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice down. You clench your thighs together, trying to stop yourself from reacting, but the friction only makes things worse. Or better. You’re not even sure anymore.

The pleasure is building, creeping higher and higher, and with it, the desperation to just let go. To stop thinking and just *feel*. But the shame of it all lingers in the back of your mind, making everything so much more complicated than it should be.

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tight as you move the toy a little faster. Each motion makes your heart race, your body trembling as the pleasure starts to blur the lines between shame and need. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t stop the small, breathy moans that escape your lips despite your best efforts. Every time you make a noise, you hate it. You hate how you sound, how feminine it is. But you can’t stop yourself.

This is wrong. This is so wrong. But it feels so damn good.

You pause for a moment, catching your breath as you lay there, the toy still inside you. You’re trembling, your body aching for more, but your mind is a mess. Everything about this situation feels like a betrayal—of who you are, of who you were.

But at the same time, you can’t deny it. You need this. You need the release, the relief, even if it means embracing something that feels completely alien to you.

With a deep breath, you grip the toy tighter and begin again, this time trying to push all the thoughts aside.

Your breath is ragged now, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow gasps as you try to keep yourself under control. The dildo moves in and out of you, slowly at first, but each thrust feels more natural, more urgent. Every new sensation is electric, traveling through your body in waves you never expected. It’s like everything about your body is hypersensitive, and each movement sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

You can’t stop yourself from thinking about how foreign it all feels, how different your body reacts to this new anatomy. You’ve jerked off a million times before, but this? This is something entirely new. It’s deeper, more intense, and it’s everywhere. Your body is on fire, and the need building inside you is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

Your fingers tighten around the dildo as you push it in deeper, feeling your walls tighten around it with every thrust. A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, and you freeze for a moment, biting your lip hard to try and keep yourself quiet. You can’t sound like that. You hate sounding like that. But at the same time, the more you try to suppress the sounds, the more your body rebels, pushing you closer to the edge.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the humiliation of it all. You think back to the women who’ve turned you on before, trying to ground yourself in what’s familiar. Faces flash through your mind—Michelle, Becca, even that girl at the club, Serena—but every thought comes with an unwelcome twist.

You’re not thinking about being with them. You’re imagining being them.

The realization makes your stomach flip, but you can’t stop it. Your mind betrays you, conjuring images of how the would move, how they would moan, how their bodies would react. And now it’s you who’s moaning, you whose body is responding, and the shame only makes the pleasure more intense.

The feeling of the dildo sliding in and out of you, the way your hips start moving on their own to meet each thrust—it’s all so foreign and strange, but it feels so damn good. Your thighs are trembling, and you can feel the heat building between your legs, tightening in your core. Your breath comes out in shaky gasps as you try to suppress the sounds threatening to escape your throat.

You shift your hips, angling the toy differently, and the sensation makes you gasp, a sharp, high-pitched sound that you barely manage to stifle. You press your free hand against your mouth, **** to keep quiet as you move the toy faster, deeper, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

You can’t believe how wet you are. Every movement is slick, the toy gliding in and out of you with ease, and the wetness only heightens the sensation. It’s almost embarrassing how much your body is betraying you, responding to this in ways you never expected.

Your body is moving on its own now, the pleasure building with each thrust, each movement of the toy inside you. You can feel it—the tightness in your stomach, the heat pooling between your legs, the pressure building until it’s almost unbearable. You know you’re close, and the realization sends a wave of panic through you.

I’m going to cum. I’m going to fucking cum like this.

Your breath hitches, and you press the toy deeper, your hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. The wet, squelching sounds of the toy moving inside you are almost drowned out by your ragged breathing, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge.

No… I can’t…

But it’s too late. Your body tenses, and before you can stop it, the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, hitting you harder than you ever expected. The pleasure is blinding, ripping through your body in intense, uncontrollable waves. Your back arches, your thighs quivering as the climax consumes you, and for a moment, you lose yourself completely.

A soft, high-pitched moan escapes your lips, and you barely manage to bite down on it, your hand clamping over your mouth to stifle the sound. The orgasm is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced—deeper, more intense, rolling through you again and again until you’re left trembling, your body spent.

You collapse back against the pillows, gasping for breath, the toy still inside you. The pleasure lingers, the aftershocks rippling through your body as you come down from the high, your mind struggling to process what just happened.

What the hell was that?