Chrissy snapped awake to the sound of his alarm. It was 5:45, time to get up! His mouth guard slipped from his sore lips and was replaced by a stream of pink water. He waited for his vertigo to fade while fishing beneath the covers and retrieving his sticky dildo. It rested next to a wet spot, which was adjacent to a series of dry stains. He moved the toy to the end table and stuck it face up by the suction cup. He let out a contented sigh while eyeing his dildo. He couldn’t believe how perfectly it fit into his prosthetic vagina, and he looked forward to using it again soon.

He scooted to the side of the bed and slipped his feet into the training heels.

The heels fit a little better than the previous day, but they were still uncomfortably tight. Chrissy slid off the bed and landed on his heels. He tested his balance and, satisfied, made his way to the bathroom for his morning routine. His breasts bounced lightly in a tight lace bra while his fake vagina was encased by damp lace panties.

Once in the bathroom, he started by pulling off his nose strip and removing his sleep mask. With a naked face, Chrissy touched his cheek and examined himself. He looked a bit younger than yesterday! Was the sleep mask responsible? He had to remember to bring it up to Sylvie because he was dangerously close to looking like a teenager! His fake ID said he was 24, but even that was starting to seem questionable. He shivered at his appearance. He needed some makeup to feel confident! He quickly cleansed and moisturized before applying his daily cosmetics (mascara, concealer, lip gloss, and a little blush). Even though he knew he’d be exercising soon, he wanted to look presentable for Brad! A-and Miss Valentine, of course!

Chrissy combed his silky, brunette hair and let it flow loosely down to his mid-back. He ran his long, red fingernails through it and smiled to himself. He enjoyed having long hair; he might just keep it this length once he went back to normal!

Curling his nails to examine them more closely, Chrissy spent a few minutes touching up his polish and reapplying it in some places to ensure it was perfect. He rubbed his supple, dainty hands together and checked his diamond earring studs.

With his appearance sorted, Chrissy clicked his way to the toilet and squatted down. He pulled his panties to the side, automatically adjusted his hips, and relaxed his bladder. He trailed his hand against the almost invisible seam of his prosthetic while a strong *FRUSH* sound reverberated from the toilet bowl. The sound and feeling of female urination were becoming more familiar to Chrissy after experiencing it firsthand for over a week. He finished and dabbed himself dry before covering his slit with his panties.

Swaying back to his bedroom, Chrissy collected the floral sundress he had laid out the previous day.

As he didn’t have anything else to wear, he unzipped the dress and stepped into it before pulling it up his body. He struggled to zip the dress on his own but managed it after a few seconds of difficulty. His increased flexibility came in clutch! The floral sundress fluttered around Chrissy’s lower body and hugged his upper body tightly.

He turned to his bedroom and did what he could to clean it up. Chrissy followed Sylvie’s advice and adopted a joyful, happy-go-lucky attitude while tidying. It was much easier to sync with her mindset while wearing one of her outfits!

When the room was relatively put together, Chrissy took in a hearty breath of air freshener and let it coat the back of his throat. He collected his Gucci purse from the dresser.

He procured the wallet and examined his fake ID card.

California IDENTIFICATION CARD
ID E74259328
LN EVANS
FN CHRISTINA ROBIN
AGE 23
SEX F
HGT 5'7
WGT 125 lb
EYES GRN
HAIR BLN

Chrissy wracked his brain and squinted as his eyes scanned the card with his smiling, girly face. Was he seeing things, or had his ID changed since last night? He slid the card into the wallet and dropped it back in the purse. He chuckled at the thought. That was impossible! He must have been misremembering!

With his purse in hand, Chrissy headed down the stairs and began cleaning up the living room, kitchen, and foyer. As he was wheeling the vacuum to the closet, the front door opened. Miss Valentine and Brad stepped inside, and their eyes immediately fixated on Chrissy with his flowing hair, layered makeup, flowery sundress, Gucci purse around her shoulder, and high heels.

Chrissy used his long, red nails to curl his hair behind his pierced ears while pushing the vacuum past them and chirping, “Sorry! I’m just, like, finishing cleaning and stuff.”

Miss Valentine was smiling wryly at Chrissy. Her mid-thirties body was sporting a pair of gray yoga pants and a white sports bra. Her hair was in a messy ponytail.

Brad wore black workout pants and a long-sleeve, white shirt with a hat. His muscles bulged against his clothing.

Brad stared down at Chrissy lustfully. He stared down, as in, even with Chrissy’s four-inch heels, Brad was taller than him. Chrissy felt Brad’s gaze, and his eyes flashed to the bulge in his pants. Chrissy strutted past Brad with a *click* of his heels and put a little extra emphasis on his natural sway.

He tried speaking to him normally, but his voice came out as a breathy coo, oozing with lust: “H-hey Brad, I sorta, like, missed you and junk.”

Brad flexed and grinned while responding in a deep, reverberating boom, “Yeah, I missed you too, babe. You look fucking beautiful, by the way. That dress and those heels—damn!”

Chrissy closed the door to the cleaning closet and felt warmth between his legs, a thumping in his chest, and a burning in his cheeks. Was Brad...hitting on him? Chrissy didn’t know Brad swung that way! His mind raced. Wouldn’t it be funny if he played along...a-as a prank? He could pretend to be interested in Brad and just, like, prank him. It was going to be hilarious!

He faced Brad and adopted a submissive, feminine pose with his hands on his hips and his gaze buried in the floor while responding sweetly, “Th-thanks, Brad! You’re, um, looking kinda, like, hot yourself…”

Miss Valentine rolled her eyes and made a fake vomiting sound before speaking in her icy alto, “Jesus Chris, get a room, you two.” She stomped towards the kitchen and called over her shoulder, “Let’s go, Jack and Jill, we’re behind schedule!”

Chrissy and Brad made eye contact and shared a nervous laugh. That crazy Miss Valentine...ha! A room… Neither of them was gay or wanted to do any of...that stuff! They were just joking around…

When the moment turned awkward, Brad motioned toward the kitchen and spoke, “Ladies first.”

Chrissy responded casually, “Like, okay then, I’ll be right behind you!”

Brad’s deep, loud chuckle echoed through the foyer before he suddenly darted towards Chrissy. Chrissy turned away fearfully as Brad’s hands began lightly patting his perky ass through his dress and pushing him forward.

Brad pressed up against him and continued the assault while declaring, “I’m not the one wearing a dress and heels! Get those tits into the kitchen where they belong, shorty!”

Chrissy giggled and playfully tried swatting Brad’s hands away as they made their way across the floor. His prosthetic vagina dampened beneath Brad’s touch.

“Stop! I, like, mean it, you big brute!” He squeaked.

When the short journey to the kitchen was finished, Brad gave Chrissy’s butt one more swat before breaking away and heading to his usual chair. He sat down and winked at Chrissy from across the room before adopting a toothy grin.

Chrissy folded his arms in fake outrage and stuck his tongue out at Brad. He couldn’t hold back a smile and sat on his usual stool before crossing his legs and dropping his purse on the counter. Miss Valentine had already laid out his breakfast, which was a big one today. Steak and eggs! Chris began eating—it tasted awesome!

Miss Valentine shot Brad and Chrissy disapproving looks. She spoke down to them like children, “If you’re both QUITE done with your juvenile game of ‘grab ass,’ let’s talk about the game plan. I wanted to have a nice jog outside, but according to Sylvie, Chrissy shouldn’t be running in her heels at the moment. As a result, the jog is now a brisk walk.”

Chrissy swallowed another bite of steak and washed it down with pink water. A walk? Sounds easy! It would be nice to get some fresh air as well. Besides, nobody would recognize him; what did he have to worry about?

Miss Valentine continued, “Additionally, I won’t be joining you today because I have some paperwork to complete, and somebody needs to stay here and watch the house. I don’t think I need to remind you what happened last time the house was left unguarded.”

Chrissy shook his head and swallowed his morning pills. How could he forget? After Sylvie's restock, he had a lot of stuff in his closet to steal. He definitely didn’t want to deal with another break-in!

She added, “Which means that Bradley will be accompanying Ms. Evans and keeping her safe AND on task.”

Brad and Chrissy’s eyes met, and they smiled at one another. Chrissy’s chest fluttered and his cheeks flushed. He’d never really been alone with Brad for any extended period of time and was looking forward to it in more ways than one.

“Once you both return, Doctor Sapphire should be here to meet with Ms. Evans and assist with whatever needs doing. Now, I brought some workout clothes for Ms. Evans to wear, and I—”

Brad cut Miss Valentine off with a quick interjection, “She’ll keep the dress on.” He sat back in his chair and cleared his throat before adding, “If you don’t mind, of course, Miss Valentine.”

Miss Valentine shrugged and collected Chrissy’s empty plate before responding, “Sure, I don’t care. If that’s what she wants.”

Chrissy hopped from his stool and grabbed his purse. Brad wanted him to stay in the dress? He must have really thought Chrissy pulled it off!

Chrissy nodded gleefully and answered demurely, “Um, yeah, if he wants me to, I can, like, walk in it.”

With that, Chrissy and Brad made their way to the door with Miss Valentine trailing behind them. Chrissy walked next to Brad awkwardly, feeling like a teenager heading out on a first date with Miss Valentine playing the concerned mother.

Miss Valentine snapped at Brad, “You bring her back in one piece, mister!” Her voice then softened as she added, “And try to have a little fun.”

Brad gave Miss Valentine a thumbs-up and opened the front door for Chrissy. He thanked Brad and stepped through the threshold. He was greeted by an overcast sky and cold air. It was freezing outside! Chrissy crossed his exposed arms beneath his breasts. His billowing, floral dress did little to keep him warm while he clicked down the driveway. The door closed behind them, and Brad jogged to his nearby black Jeep.

Chrissy’s hair fluttered in the light wind, and he shivered while pressing his legs together. He waited for Brad, who was searching his car for something. Chrissy was increasingly worried about the cold. How was he going to make it through the walk?

Brad jogged to Chrissy and held out a huge black sweatshirt.

He nodded towards the garment and offered, “It may be too big for you, but it’ll be warm. I’d hate to see a pretty little thing like you freeze.”

Chrissy felt positive emotions rising and tears welling in his eyes as he accepted the sweatshirt. Brad really cared about him! Chrissy gave Brad his purse to hold before eagerly pulling the sweatshirt over his head and down his torso. It was huge! His pink dress flared out beneath the sweatshirt, but he was absolutely swimming in fabric, especially in his arms and shoulders. Nonetheless, it blocked the wind, and Chrissy felt protected in more ways than one. His chest fluttered as he smelled Brad’s masculine scent all over the sweatshirt.

He accepted his purse back and slipped it over his shoulder. Chrissy blushed and sniffled when Brad eyed him proudly.

Brad grinned and spoke bluntly, “Still looking hot, babe!” His voice lowered, “Don’t tell Miss Valentine, but I’d like to take you out for some bubble tea if you’re up for it. My treat.”

Chrissy shyly tapped his painted hands together and blushed more deeply. He answered in a gentle coo, “Y-yeah, that sorta sounds amazing.”

With that, the pair walked down the driveway and made it into the road. Chrissy’s heels clicked quickly, and he felt Brad’s gigantic sweatshirt swishing around his body. He had to take two steps for every one Brad took because Brad carried himself like a behemoth. Brad stomped with his hands balled into fists and his beefy arms hanging at his sides like he was about to get into a fight. He looked intimidating, but Chrissy didn’t feel afraid. Brad’s powerful, masculine qualities made Chrissy feel protected and safe.

Brad and Chrissy engaged in light conversation as they walked. Chrissy found himself laughing and having a really fun time with Brad. He was surprisingly thoughtful and absolutely hilarious! After 20 or so minutes of walking, and while Chrissy was giggling at one of Brad’s jokes, an older woman jogged by them in the opposite direction. She gave them a knowing smile and a quick wave. They returned the gesture, and Chrissy realized how couple-ish he and Brad must have looked. He was sure the jogging woman must have assumed they were two boyfriends going for a walk! Despite that, Chrissy kept going. Who cared if some random woman thought they were a gay couple?

When they finally made it onto the sidewalk of a commercial street, Chrissy pressed closer to Brad and clutched his purse closely to his chest. They were NOT in a nice part of town. There were shady-looking men all over the place staring at a mountain of a man and his much smaller friend. Perhaps it was Chrissy’s lack of meaningful contact with the outside world for multiple months, or the fact that he was much smaller and daintier than he used to be, or maybe it was his residual fear from the recent break-in. Whatever it was, Chrissy felt vulnerable and anxious walking on the dilapidated sidewalk among a populace of disheveled men.

Sensing Chrissy’s fear, Brad reached his hand down and squeezed Chrissy’s fingers. Chrissy pressed his body even closer and held Brad’s catcher’s mitt of callus tightly. His hand felt so tiny being held by Brad!

Brad whispered to him, “I got you, Chrissy. You’re safe. Nobody will mess with us—and if they do, I’ll make them regret it.”

His words were encouraging, and Chrissy felt his spirits lifting. His heels clicked, and his dress swished around his swinging hips as they moved down the sidewalk.

A few more minutes of close walking occurred, during which Chrissy wasn’t feeling particularly chatty. In the distance, he saw a short person in a suit walking towards him. The man was furiously talking on a cell phone. It was Mr. Fletcher!

Mr. Fletcher shuffled towards Brad and Chrissy. He looked up from his call and acknowledged Chrissy with a forced half-smile and a nod. He then spat, “I don’t know how it’s fucking possible!” into his cell phone as he passed. Chrissy kept hold of Brad’s hand but turned to watch his one-time friend walk by and completely ignore him. What an asshole! How could he not even greet the man that made him millions upon millions of dollars!?

Brad stopped to glance towards Mr. Fletcher and asked nonchalantly, “You know that guy?”

Chrissy sighed and shook his head. “Nah, he, like, sorta looked familiar for a second, you know?”

Brad gave a quick nod and tugged Chrissy’s hand. They continued down the path for a few more minutes in silence.

Brad asked quietly, “Who was he? I know you pretty well by now, Chrissy. I know you knew that guy.”

Chrissy squeezed Brad’s hand and sniffled. His emotions were rising again. Apparently he couldn’t lie to Brad anymore; he just knew Chrissy too well!

He responded in a breathy soprano, “He was—um, my agent for a long time? But he, like, isn’t anymore.”

Brad nodded soberly and stopped. He pointed to the nearby business.

There was a big sign in the window that read ‘COUPLES TWO FOR ONE SPECIAL!’ surrounded by a heart.

Brad’s voice was filled with confidence and positive vibes. “Let that old fart keep walking! We have bubble tea to enjoy! Follow my lead, and we’ll score a good deal.”

Chrissy released Brad’s hand and quickly opened his purse. He pulled out a tissue and carefully dabbed the corners of his bleary eyes while giggling. Once dry, he dropped the used tissue back inside, and Brad snatched his hand up once again.

Chrissy grinned and flipped his hair behind his ears while squealing, “Yeah, let’s, like, do it! I’m super ready now!”

They made their way through the doors and up to the counter while continuing to hold hands.

The cashier, a young white guy, eyed Brad and Chrissy with a smile. His voice cracked when he spoke, “Hi! Are you here for the couples special?”

Brad squeezed Chrissy’s hand and nodded while answering, “We are.”

Chrissy was wearing Brad’s man-smelling sweatshirt and holding his hand. It really felt like they were a couple! They might just get away with this!

The cashier poked the little screen in front of him and spoke in his squeaky voice, “Sounds good. Our policy means I gotta ask these questions, so just bear with me.” He pointed to Chrissy but addressed Brad, “Is she your girlfriend?”

Brad responded quickly, “Yep, my one and only.”

The cashier then pointed to Brad and asked Chrissy, “And is he your boyfriend?”

Chrissy looked up at Brad and locked eyes with him. His gaze was deep and piercing. All he had to do was agree, and their little heist was complete!

Chrissy turned back to the cashier and nodded, “Uh-huh, he’s, like, my whole world and stuff.”

The cashier smiled and clicked the screen a few times before prompting Brad for payment. When the question of money came up, the cashier completely disregarded Chrissy and assumed he wouldn’t be paying.

Brad whipped a card from his pocket. When the payment was complete, the cashier pointed to a nearby table and stated, “Okay, you folks are all set to take a seat; I’ll bring your drinks in a minute. Thanks for coming in!”

Chrissy couldn’t hold back a grin as he and Brad turned towards the table, still holding hands. The cashier had bought it! While clicking his heels towards the table, Chrissy saw there were other occupied tables. The closest contained two men holding blue bubble tea cups. Maybe they were also pretending to be a couple to get the deal? It all felt so naughty to Chrissy! They were getting away with it!

Chrissy and Brad sat down and giggled to one another. Chrissy pulled off the sweatshirt and laid it on the back of his chair, allowing his torso to breathe. They talked casually for a few minutes before the cashier made it to the table holding two bubble teas.

He laid the blue cup in front of Brad and the pink cup in front of Chrissy.

“Enjoy.” He quipped before returning to the counter.

Taking his drink, Chrissy looked around and saw he was the only guy with pink liquid! The only other person with pink-colored tea was the female half of a husband and wife on the far end of the room. Chrissy grumbled and lifted the drink. He may have looked...a little feminine, but being called Brad’s girlfriend and receiving a pink drink was just insulting!

He took a sip of the tea and froze. It tasted like poison! The liquid sloshed around in his mouth, and he felt compelled to gag. His eyes darted around the room while he considered spitting it out. How were other people swallowing this crap?

Brad happily drank his blue tea while commenting, “You know, I’m not really a ‘tea’ guy, but this bubble stuff isn’t half bad. You like yours?”

Chrissy shook his head and covered his mouth with his hand as he forced the tea down his throat. He took a gasping breath, realizing he hadn’t breathed in a while.

Brad’s deep voice was filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Chrissy pointed to his drink before sputtering, “It’s *cough* it’s, like— something’s wrong.”

Brad reached over and lifted Chrissy’s cup. Chrissy warned, “No, don’t!”

Brad took a sip and shrugged, “I mean, it’s a little fruity for my tastes, but it’s okay.”

Chrissy grimaced and clutched his stomach as it gurgled angrily. Either Brad had a steel gut or completely screwed-up taste buds! Fruity!? There was nothing fruity about poison! A thought flashed in Chrissy's brain about his daily protein shake and pink water. Maybe he’d gotten so used to those that anything else tasted god-awful? But, before he could really contemplate it, Chrissy felt a rush in his groin and a sudden urge to pee.

He jumped to his heeled feet and excused himself before tottering towards the bathroom while squeezing his thighs together and clutching his purse. Brad watched Chrissy’s hair and ass bounce as he departed. A short hallway led to two doors.

Without thinking, Chrissy plowed through the door labeled "Men’s" and entered into a tiled room with three urinals, two sinks, and one stall. There were also two young men who grinned awkwardly towards their newest bathroom companion. The first man, who appeared to be around 18, had long, greasy brown hair beneath a black brimmed hat, a red shirt, and black exercise pants. The second was similarly aged, though his brown hair was poofy and medium length, while his shirt was blue and his pants were blue jeans.

“What have we here? Methinks a fair maiden doth lost her way.” The poofy-haired man joked. His voice was crackly, and he breathed loudly through his mouth.

The greasy-haired man cackled and nodded his head in agreement.

Chrissy felt his body freezing in place and his muscles tensed beneath the scrutiny of the young men. What did he mean by ‘fair maiden’?

Chrissy pleaded in his high-pitched voice, “I-I kinda just, um, really need to pee, okay? I’m, like, totally a boy like you guys are!”

The young men glanced at one another and derided Chrissy in unison. Chrissy’s shoulders drooped as their laughs echoed around the walls. What was so funny? He bounced on his heels and squeezed his legs a little tighter. He needed to go NOW!

Poofy crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “Is that so, fair maiden? Go ahead and use the urinal to your heart's content.”

Chrissy shot his gaze to the row of urinals and gulped. His prosthetic made it almost impossible to pee standing up! The stall was right there! Why couldn’t he just use that!?

Greasy released a snorting chuckle and grunted, “What’s wrong? You wouldn’t be scared of a urinal now, would you, boy?”

Poofy chimed in, “You don’t have girl parts, do you?”

Chrissy flipped his silky hair behind his head and waddled forward while answering, “Nuh-uh! I have, like, normal boy parts and everything!”

He wasn’t about to let these dweebs have the satisfaction! Chrissy approached the urinal next to the wall and turned his body away before lifting the front of his dress and bunching it around his hips. He displaced the lace panties from his slit and thrust his hips forward until he was almost touching the porcelain. He must have looked ridiculous with his body pressed so close, but he didn’t care; he was doing this! He relaxed his bladder, and a rush of liquid surged between his legs and splashed against the urinal wall. It was a little all over the place, but he was hovering so close that every drop made it to where it was supposed to.

Chrissy was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice the men sneaking up on him. They suddenly turned Chrissy towards them by his shoulders. He released a surprised ‘Eep’ and was powerless to stop them. Chrissy’s stream didn’t immediately cease, and a wild squirting of urine splattered against the tiled floor from his prosthetic vagina.

Poofy pointed between Chrissy’s open legs and declared, “That’s the girliest penis I’ve ever seen!”

Greasy’s eyes were filled with lust, and he licked his lips as he closed in on Chrissy.

Chrissy forcefully stopped urinating and fell back, directly into the corner. He froze in place with his long, red nails pulling his pink, lace panties to the side and revealing his shiny pussy. His legs were partially open, and his dress was bunched at his waist.

Chrissy mumbled, “N-no... I, like, have boy parts. My vagina is totally, like, super fake.”

Greasy’s hand curled between Chrissy’s legs, causing Chrissy to yelp and turn his head up towards the ceiling. Both men wore wolfish, lustful glares that absolutely terrified Chrissy. He was shorter, smaller, and weaker than they were, and he FELT it in the moment. He had no recourse; he had no way to fight back. He wasn’t ‘Captain America,’ he wasn’t a 6’3 mountain of muscle, and he wasn’t even ‘Chris Evans’ in the moment. Instead, he was a small, trapped, trembling woman named Chrissy with a hiked-up dress and tall heels giving two men a wet, vaginal demonstration. Tears welled in his eyes from the fear and helplessness of being violated.

Greasy’s rough finger slid against Chrissy’s puffy labia while he muttered, “Sure feels like a real cunt to me: wet, meaty, soft, hot, and yielding!”

Greasy plunged his finger into Chrissy’s slit, and he drew a sharp breath when he felt the pervert’s finger rubbing against his buried cock. Meanwhile, Poofy moved towards Chrissy’s face until he was really close. Chrissy trembled and clenched his eyes shut, feeling Poofy’s hot breath against his makeup-coated cheek. Chrissy wanted to be back at home! He wanted these two rapists to leave him alone! He wanted it, but he knew for a fact that he couldn’t resist them. He knew they could do whatever they wanted to him.

Poofy’s breath smelled like rancid eggs when he spoke directly into Chrissy’s face, “Does your little beaver need some big wood, slut?”

Tears streamed down Chrissy’s cheeks, and he sobbed softly into the ceiling while the two men continued their assault. Poofy tugged on the front of Chrissy’s dress and uncovered his lace bra. He finagled Chrissy’s teardrop tits over the bra to expose them, then pressed his lips against his nipples. Chrissy’s nipples hardened while Poofy manipulated his breasts and sucked on them.

Meanwhile, Greasy was roughly pumping his finger into Chrissy’s fake pussy. Chrissy felt the dull rubbing of the finger against his buried penis, but the fear and loathing of it all didn’t allow much in terms of arousal.

Chrissy heard a *zip* and opened his eyes. He looked down to see both Poofy and Greasy had stepped back and uncovered their very erect penises. He clenched his eyes shut again and continued sobbing into the ceiling. His tits were still out, and he was still holding his panties to the side and exposing himself.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Brad poked his head inside while asking quizzically, “Chrissy? You in here, babe?”

Brad had taken off his long-sleeved shirt, which left him in a black lifting tank and allowed his muscles to bulge outward. Chrissy saw Brad through teary eyes and finally felt the confidence to let his panties go and wrap his arms around his exposed tits. He bent over slightly and cried in a standing fetal position.

Brad’s eyes narrowed, and he crashed the rest of his body through the door. Greasy and Poofy froze in place, and their boners began to shrink and deflate. Brad’s breaths were coming in bursts. He was pissed!

His loud, deep voice boomed through the small room, “What the fuck are you pieces of shit doing with my girl?”

Poofy zipped up his pants with shaking hands and shrank into the wall as he sputtered, “Sh-she w-was in the w-wrong bathroom, and we- we were trying to h-help her!”

Greasy covered his soft cock with his waistband and nodded in agreement before saying, “Yeah! We were trying to help!”

Brad cracked his knuckles and growled. The deep, animalistic noise practically shook the room. He surged forward aggressively and wrapped his heavy hands around Poofy and Greasy’s respective necks. He was so fast! He was so angry! The comparatively tiny men had no chance as Brad lifted them off the ground with ease. They choked around his grip, and their feet and hands kicked and punched to no avail. Chrissy sniffled and lifted his gaze to watch with satisfaction as his boyfriend carried the two so-called men through the bathroom door.

Left alone, Chrissy slowly put himself back together with quivering hands while a loud banging sound erupted from the lobby. Chrissy continued to sob and felt his makeup running down his face. He secured his breasts in his lace bra, slid his panties over his prosthetic pussy, and smoothed his flowery sundress back over his body. Chrissy sniffled and started feeling better with his clothing back where it should be. He then opened his purse and used another tissue to dab his eyes.

A terrified scream seeped through the door, and Chrissy smiled. They fucked with the wrong guy! Brad was going to whoop their asses! He was such an amazing boyfriend!

Chrissy waited in the restroom and worked to collect himself while the sounds of a one-sided beat-down ensued through the door. Chrissy twirled his silky hair around his finger and started fantasizing about what Brad looked like defending him. He imagined Brad’s ridiculously beefy body pounding the wolfish glares off Poofy and Greasy’s nerdy little faces. His body started getting hot at the fantasy of a bulked-up Brad putting himself at risk to defend Chrissy and absolutely destroying everybody in his path. He was the alpha dog! Chrissy had bagged the strongest, manliest man imaginable, and that made him feel feminine—and horny!

The sound of fighting suddenly stopped, and Chrissy froze. He nervously crossed his arms beneath his breasts and waited.

The door opened, and Brad burst inside. His face was twisted with rage, and he was breathing heavily. When his eyes fixated on Chrissy, however, his expression immediately softened. Chrissy felt his heart melting and his nipples hardening.

Chrissy ran forward and wrapped his tiny arms around Brad’s hard, bulky frame. Brad rested his hand on Chrissy’s hair, and he petted him softly.

Brad whispered, “Are you okay, babe? Those fucking losers won’t bother you again. I’m so sorry I let you out of my sight; I should have known better. Can you forgive me?”

Chrissy felt a *ZAP* in her groin. Her penis turned immediately numb, and a strong urge to consume her daily shake filled her entire being. The image of Brad’s cock fluttered through Chrissy’s mind like a .gif that kept on repeating. She NEEDED to suck his cock! She reached up and grabbed Brad by the shoulder straps of his lifting tank and turned him towards the far corner, away from the puddle of pee.

“Babe, what are you-” Brad was cut off when Chrissy playfully shoved him into the corner. Brad saw the horny gleam in Chrissy's eye and knew immediately what she was doing. He tried to relax and rested his arms on the wall while thrusting his hips forward.

Chrissy dropped to her knees in front of Brad. He had saved her, he was her boyfriend, he was AMAZING, and she, unknowingly, desperately craved his cum! It felt as if her body needed it to survive. She tore Brad’s black workout pants down to his ankles, and his erect cock sprang towards her while his heavy balls dangled below. She giggled and marveled at the long vein running down the length of his shaft. She enthusiastically leaned forward and wrapped her inflated lips around his cockhead.

Chrissy proceeded to press further and impale her mouth onto his virile dick. She felt every inch of his length, every fold of his skin, and every bump of his vein sliding in between her lips. She ran her tongue in circles around his shaft while rhythmically enveloping him. Brad let out a contented groan and gently held the back of Chrissy’s head while she took him deeper and deeper down her throat.

She felt her prosthetic pussy gushing and yearning to be fondled so she reached her hand down to oblige. Every touch was amazing! Her labia, her inner walls, everything was so sensitive! Her fingers located her clit, and she began swirling around it, applying the perfect amount of pressure for maximum pleasure.

Chrissy’s second hand worked to expose her tits, which she did so after some difficulty. Her wide, rock-hard nipples poked outwards, and she started to pinch and twist them. The manipulation of her sensitive breasts sent another wave of heat coursing through her body.

Brad’s hands tightened on Chrissy’s head, and he began shoving her down onto his length. She gagged around his cock while he proceeded to roughly fuck her face. It wasn’t long before the entirety of Brad’s thick penis was occupying Chrissy’s tight throat. Her lips squished against Brad’s sparse pubes while his testicles rested on her chin. Chrissy’s legs were trembling as one hand flicked her clit and the other pinched her nipples.

Brad’s speed and aggression suddenly increased. He thrust his hips forward and pulled Chrissy’s head back and forth, up and down his length. She held on for dear life and endured as best she could. Her uncovered tits jiggled on her chest, and her knees pressed hard into the tiled floor. She felt him tense in her mouth and slow his thrusting. She took the opportunity to wildly masturbate, flicking her bean at the mere thought of Brad’s semen spurting down her throat. When the fantasy was at its hottest in her brain, she felt his balls contract against her chin and his shaft twitch in her mouth.

“Time for your shake, bitch!” He grunted.

Chrissy felt a warm fluttering in her chest while Brad deposited his load down her throat. His buried cock pulsated in her mouth, and her fake pussy went into overdrive. Chrissy was quickly cresting an orgasm of her own. She bucked her hips against her hand and leaked sticky vaginal fluid all over the floor.

The door to the bathroom slowly opened, and a man popped his head inside. The man’s eyes found Chrissy just as Brad pulled his penis from her throat.

A powerful spurt of semen coated the inside of Chrissy’s mouth, and she tasted...her afternoon shake!? Brad’s semen was the ingredient that made it taste so amazing!? Before she could think about the implications of that, Brad fully removed his cock and blasted her face with a torrent of seed. While being painted with cum, Chrissy pinched her clit, and her body was wracked with orgasmic pleasure. A high-pitched, girly moan echoed in the bathroom and through the open door. Her whole body shook uncontrollably, and her made-up face took a few shots.

Chrissy’s body began to feel limp while warm, orgasmic bliss crescendoed in her chest and fluttered all around her body. Brad squeezed a few final drops of sticky seed onto Chrissy’s face while she slumped against the nearby wall.

The man standing in the doorway with a lecherous grin spoke with a heavy accent, “You lift dress, show woman hole, yes?”

Brad shooed the man away and commanded, “Get the fuck out of here, you old perv!”

The man hesitated and stared down at Chrissy with desire. Chrissy turned her head to look at the man and felt Brad’s semen slowly dripping down her face. She breathed against the cool, tiled wall and closed her eyes, enjoying every moment of being filled by, wearing, and tasting Brad’s cum. Her brain was flooding her body with positive hormones, and she knew servicing a cock was the right thing to do. She felt like she was in her proper place: on her knees, in front of a dripping dick with semen on her face!

Suddenly, something in her brain fought back. A single image burst into the darkness of her eyelids.

Her penis, buried as it was, twitched, and he could feel it within the prosthetic vagina. Chrissy felt a rush of embarrassment beneath the man’s gaze and turned away from him. He—he wasn’t some cock-crazed slut! His proper place wasn’t at some guy’s feet covered in cum! The battle ignited in his mind once again. The image of ‘Captain America’ and his masculine identity were backed into the corner of his personality and slowly losing ground.

The lecherous man spoke again, “She suck penis in bathroom. She slut. Lift dress and show pussy, yes?”

Brad quickly pulled his workout pants up his legs and over his shiny, deflating cock. He charged towards the man with ill intentions. The man, smartly, fled before Brad reached him.

Brad shook his head and muttered, “Fucking weirdo.”

He turned back to Chrissy and offered his hand. Chrissy’s head was spinning with all manner of conflicting thoughts and desires. He accepted Brad’s hand and made it back onto his heels. His knees were a little wobbly, but he managed to stand.

Towering over Chrissy, Brad smiled down and pointed before joking, “You, uh, got some moisturizer stuck to your face there, babe.”

Chrissy giggled, then stopped to scrape the remnants of Brad’s load into his mouth. He couldn’t help it; his body was positively craving it. Each drop that he swallowed added more power to the faction in his brain opposing Captain America. The taste of Brad’s semen reminded Chrissy that it must have filled his daily shake.

Chrissy spoke to Brad with a serious tone, “I sorta think you, like, mean my protein shake, right?”

Brad nodded somberly and responded, “I’m glad you finally know, at least. The shakes are Miss Valentine’s thing, so you’ll have to ask her about them. I just provide a...sample whenever she asks.”

Chrissy nodded and contemplated whether it was worth confronting Miss Valentine about. His tongue unconsciously swirled around a particularly thick rope of Brad’s ‘sample’ to savor it before swallowing. Looking into the nearby mirror, Chrissy sighed at his disheveled appearance. He’d been face-fucked, and it looked like it. His hair was matted in the front, his makeup was runny, and he had sticky, shiny pockets of cum in some places, while other places were crusty and drying. He even had rivulets of ‘sample’ staining the front of his dress.

Chrissy opened his purse. He had to make himself presentable for the journey home! He sifted past his pink cell phone, the useless tampons, and the condoms until he located some makeup wipes. First he had to get himself clean. While focusing on his makeup, the memory of ‘Captain America’ in Chrissy’s brain slowly faded back into its little corner, becoming even weaker than it had previously been.

As he lifted the wipe to his sticky face, the door to the bathroom opened once again.

Brad complained, “Can we not get a single moment of fucking peace? I’m about to—”

His voice cut out, and Chrissy turned to see why. Standing in the open door was a female police officer.

Her expression displayed cold confidence, and her voice was no-nonsense and stern: “You two need to come with me.”

18. Week 7 Part 1

LAristopa

18. Week 7 Part 1

17. Week 6 Part 2

LAristopa