inkyleaf - Tumblr blog

inkyleaf · 4 months ago

Text

TG 216: Identity Fracture (M2F, RC, ID, Nerdification)

“Yeah! Let’s fuckin’ get it, boys!” Sam roared at the bar one night, drink in hand with a big grin on his face as he watched his sports team win. He downed the rest of his glass and pounded the counter in celebration along with the other guys. Although he was happy to be in his natural environment, he hadn’t found much camaraderie with anyone at his school yet.

Sam had grown up as a typical sports jock. He had a strong build, short blond hair, and excelled in various sports teams while struggling to pass his classes. As the self-proclaimed ‘King of High School,’ he hadn’t expected that he’d be any less amazing in his freshman year of college. But nobody knew who he was here, the football season hadn’t begun yet, and the classes were even harder.

Over the first several dull months of his semester, he found himself becoming addicted to toxic masculinity-based and not-so-subtly racist influencers, and even developed an online persona that regurgitated the slop he listened to. With so many likes and followers coming his way, his confidence began to return to what it had been back in high school, and it wasn’t too long before he felt like he owned the place with every lecture hall and hallway he walked down.

One evening in the later half of the semester, Sam noticed that a petite Asian woman was grabbing a snack off the shelf at their local student store. Without a second thought, Sam walked up and snatched it out of her hands. “Whoooopsies, better luck next time,” he sneered. “Hey! What the hell, dude?!” the woman retorted at the same time. Despite being a foot shorter than Sam, she tried to grab it back to no avail. “Screw off, China,” Sam said as he forcefully pushed her back, almost making her fall over.

The cashier walked out from behind the counter and ordered Sam to get out. After a brief spat between the two, Sam threw the snack at the woman and started to fake a cough. “Ah shit, I think I got COVID from that,” he said, laughing to himself. The woman was glaring daggers into him as she caught her breath. Before Sam turned the corner, she marched up and yelled “Hey!” Sam turned around, and in one quick motion, the woman grabbed a fistful of powdery dust from a pouch in her purse and threw it directly into Sam’s face.

Sam coughed and reeled back, swearing in between his hacking with his eyes shut tight. The woman darted out of the building before Sam could retaliate. Grandma taught me to do that to people like him, she thought as she walked back to her car, but…I wonder if it’ll actually do anything. Once Sam had rubbed the dust out of his eyes, he angrily marched back to his dorm. “Stupid yellow bitches,” he mumbled. “Next time I see her, or any of ‘em, I’ll teach ‘em a thing or two…” He practically kicked his door open and threw himself onto his bed in frustration, thankful that his roommate had moved out of the space a few weeks ago which left the dorm all to himself. After watching a few more YouTube videos on his phone that echoed his hatred towards independent women and immigrants, he fell asleep; although, something in his bones ached throughout the night, making it difficult to feel fully rested.

Early the next morning, Sam went to the gym on campus before it was time to attend classes. He laid himself down to do bench presses, which was his routine start. He would often start around 250 lbs (113 kg), and was so confident in his strength that he hadn’t considered getting anyone to spot him for a while. He did a few reps with no issue, but from the moment he brought the hefty barbell down towards him several minutes later, something was clearly wrong. His arms struggled to lift the weight back up and were shaking almost frantically. Sam’s face turned red, and sweat was practically erupting from his whole body as he desperately tried to keep the weight from crushing him. When it became clear he wasn’t going to lift it back to its starting position, an embarrassed “Help!” escaped his lips; however, he was alone in the room.

Through sheer adrenaline, Sam managed to shove the barbell off to the side using his whole body, making an alarming amount of noise as he panted and struggled to breathe. “Fuck! …FFFFuck!” Sam spat, swearing in circles. By the time someone else had come into the gym, Sam was still red, flustered, and embarrassed; he decided to leave, as he didn’t want anyone to realize that the massive barbell with scattered weights on the floor was his doing, or that he didn’t have it in him to pick everything back up.

The gym fiasco had put Sam into a rottener mood than usual. He attended his classes but gained practically nothing from them, as all he wanted was a way to vent his frustration. Although he hadn’t noticed through his long-sleeved shirt, his biceps atrophied throughout the day, making his toned arms look thin and lanky by nightfall. When he had finally realized it shortly before bed, he couldn’t stop squeezing his biceps in fear, looking for any trace of the muscles he had built over the years.

“What the fuck is this, what the fuck is this!” Sam continuously yelled to himself, disgusted with how his arms looked. This is pathetic, this is… “Wait…” Pathetic. Weak. There was a voice in Sam’s head. It was his own voice, but Sam had always been a person without an inner monologue. “Fuck this, my head hurts…” God, I feel so fuckin’ robbed… Sam barely slept a wink that night, overwhelmed by the developing voice in his mind which couldn’t seem to be turned off.

Sam scowled at himself in the mirror after getting dressed the next morning, unable to find a shirt he was comfortable with. The tight ones, or the tops that revealed his arms, fully displayed how weak they had become. But feeling long-sleeved shirts billow around them also wasn’t satisfying. Everyone’s gonna think I’m a wimp, he thought, feeling more self-conscious than ever before as he walked around campus that day. Sam was constantly mumbling to himself, balling his hands into fists, and lightly pounding against walls and buildings throughout the day to help quiet the voices, if only for a moment.

Sam sat down at a bar later that evening, figuring that a barkeep was one of the few people he could talk to without fear of judgement. “H-Hey man, do you ever hear voices in your head? Like, your own voice? Like, uh, almost like talking to yourself in your head?” he asked after getting his drink. The barkeep responded that he did, which was a relief. Sam explained how he had just started to have the sensation, which made the barkeep chuckle and respond: “Been that way as long as I can remember. Didn’t think it just happened to people out of nowhere.”

More of Sam’s physique thinned as he slept that night, including the hair on his body. As if the thoughts in his head weren’t already driving him crazy, both his pants and shirts looked and felt goofy on him now, although a belt seemed like a good enough fix for the time. Unable to focus through his lectures, he sought information about sudden muscle atrophy with varied results. He went back to gym that afternoon, but was only able work with weights that were much lighter than he was used to.

Throughout the week, Sam returned to the bar to talk to the barkeeper about their inner monologues. The man assured Sam that the ‘voices’ often didn’t make sense and would often downplay themselves, while also reinforcing the fact that Sam’s actions were what made him, him, as opposed to whatever the inner voice was saying. He ended with: “No matter what some guys believe, people like us can’t actually control our thoughts. All of us get some messed up crap up there from time to time, but the thoughts don’t make us who we are.”

Although Sam was still lamenting the condition of his body, which thankfully didn’t get any worse over the week, he slowly felt his confidence returning thanks to the barkeeper’s reassurance. “Not real,” he would remind himself whenever his thoughts veered into weird or self-deprecating places. “They’re just not real.” He even felt good about buying new clothing to either hide or fit his slimmer build, confident that he’d beef himself back up in no time with a proper routine. His confidence even pushed him to attend all of his lectures, and his note-taking had become better than ever.

Despite his best efforts, Sam only saw marginal improvements to his strength and body after two weeks of a rigorous workout routine. Over that time, his skin had become even softer and thinner, and his bones continued to ache as they subtly changed in ways he couldn’t notice, eventually reducing his overall height by more than an inch. The only thing that stopped him from spiraling back into madness was making a new friend at the gym, a thin nerdy guy named Kaleb who was also trying to bulk up for the first time. However, the friendship itself also became a partial cause of discomfort, as Kaleb was the kind of guy Sam would always bully and shit-talk. Kaleb introduced him to all kinds of video games and TV shows, and it was difficult for Sam to tell if he genuinely enjoyed them because of how insecure he’d become.

“Final fuckin’ Fantasy MMO,” Sam chuckled to himself in bed one night. “So fuckin’ stupid.” Contrary to his words, he was thinking about the characters he’d seen and about what his own custom character could look like. It seems fun, he thought with a scowl. “It’s a nerdy little Japanese game,” he said out loud as if to argue with his thoughts. I could download it…

Another week passed, and the arguments Sam had with himself grew more intense. He hated that he enjoyed hanging out with Kaleb and felt ashamed that he had downloaded the MMO onto his laptop days prior, although he had not opened the game yet. He tried to amp up his already-active gym routine and diet which only led to frustration and faster burnout, making him want to read or play games with Kaleb even more.

That evening, while Sam and Kaleb were playing Mario Kart on the couch side-by-side, Kaleb shuffled closer to touch their shoulders. Before Sam could react, Kaleb hovered his hand near Sam’s thigh and whispered: “Hey, so, I was wondering…” Sam’s heart fluttered for a moment before he went into fight-or-flight, lurching away from Kaleb and standing up. “Dude?!” he yelled. Kaleb shrunk back into the couch with a flushed red face. Neither of them knew what to say for a moment, then Kaleb uttered: “Haha, I, uh, thought we had a good thing going here.” Anger boiled within Sam. “You think I’m fuckin’ gay? Huh?!” Sam cursed and yelled at Kaleb with a few other choice slurs. “I’ll put fuckers like you in the dirt any day of the week!” Sam punched Kaleb in the face with far less strength than he was used to, but his small fist flew fast enough to inflict a black eye. Then, he ran back to his dorm with tears streaming down his face.

Sam angrily face-planted himself into bed, screaming and cursing at the world. “Why do I look like this?! Why do I look so fuckin’ gay and weak?!?” What happened to me?!” It was only after he ran out of the breath that the voice in his head came back for more torture. Why did I do that? He was my friend. He was nice to me. I wanted to keep playing with him… “Not real. The voice ain’t fuckin’ real,” Sam huffed; by now, ‘not real’ had practically become something he said religiously. “I don’t wanna play with gay dudes…”

Sam felt a brutal cramp around his pelvis as he got up, frantically searching for porn. “I-I ain’t fuckin’ gay…” He dropped his pants and started to stroke his small, shriveled dick, focusing as hard as he could on the woman in the video. After failing to feel anything for a few minutes, he switched to a lesbian video, so panicked that he hadn’t realized that the developing pain in his balls was coming from his scrotum wrapping tightly around them. Bullets of sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to power through the pain, refusing to look at anything besides the screen. He could feel vomit in his throat as his testes soon pushed up and into his body. Women, women, I only like women… I’m not…wait…

It wasn’t long before Sam’s cock had pulled back into his body in a similar fashion, turning his stroking fist into fingertip rubbing. For the first time in a long while, Sam’s thoughts were briefly aligned with how he actually felt – Ow, God it hurts…why does it hurt so bad… Sensitive folds and tissue blossomed out of the nearly blank space between his legs, lightly wetting his fingertips as new membranes formed around the tiniest opening. The pain became too much for Sam to bear, and he threw himself out of the chair onto the floor as his lower body spasmed, slightly broadening his thin hips to give his body some curvature.

Once the pain had finally subsided, Sam craned his neck and looked at his shaking hand, unable to believe what he was seeing. No, I had wrong earlier, the voice in his head said. I don’t like women… I am a woman. Sam groaned in sudden pain again, squeezing his eyes shut as tension gripped his body. With all of the subtle changes he’d already endured, his skeleton was primed for the finale. His bones snapped and grinded, briefly but gruesomely pushing themselves against his flesh or painfully against the floor as they quickly changed and shrunk one final time, diminishing his frame beyond recognition. He could only yell in agony as he squirmed dainty little legs out of his unzipped jeans and flailed pencil-thin arms against the floor. His hands and feet were compacting so much that he felt as if they’d burst from pressure, and he couldn’t feel his slim fingers or toes as they adjusted to new proportions.

I-I am a woman…! “NO!” The thoughts in Sam’s head, no matter how contrary they were to how he felt, still always felt like him. But something had changed, these thoughts felt like a different entity entirely. Yes! “NO!” Sam rolled onto his side as the pain enveloped his chest and face, feeling maddening pulsings from within them. The skin across his masculine-leaning androgynous face rippled as his skull morphed, reforming his facial features as if they were made of putty. His large nose almost completely flattened into his face as his nostrils grew and flared, while his angled jaw rounded and diminished, making his filling lips look even larger by comparison. Sam thought his eyes were being pushed back into their sockets as his eyelids completely reshaped around them, turning them into sharp almonds.

The pained groaning escaping Sam’s lips almost matched the noises from the pornstars he could still vaguely hear through the displaced headphones. Pangs of sharp pain shot into his chest as he rolled onto it, unbeknownst to the fact that he had developed a small bosom with enlarged nipples. Goosebumps and cold sweat plagued his body as its Caucasian hue was quickly enveloped by a faded yellow. His sense of time and space was shot, and he had no idea if he had been laying on the floor for minutes or hours when he tried to move again. Long, dark hair was inadvertently tugged at by his hands, and by it sticking to the sweat on his back, as he shook like a newborn fawn trying to get on his hands and knees. What happened… With a strained grunt, Sam pulled himself to sit with his back against the wall and looked down. His vision spun harder than any hangover he’d experienced, but it was obvious that something was wrong. When it finally focused on the petite body of an Asian woman, Sam screamed and flipped out – but only internally. The physical body he gazed at remained still. He could feel every miniscule fidget and twitch it made, and could feel how utterly beaten and exhausted it was, similar to a high-intensity workout. But he couldn’t move the body at all.

“Wow,” Sam’s female body breathed. “Just…wow…” Sam himself didn’t know what to think, too many impossible things were bombarding him. Hard raps on the door startled Sam, almost making his body leap into the air. Sam tried to yell, but his lips only quivered. “Police, open up!” a voice yelled from the other side of the door. “J-Just a moment!” Before Sam knew it, words had escaped his lips, and his body was getting up and moving, albeit slowly and groggily. His body yanked a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around itself before opening the door. The police looked Sam up and down, then asked: “Have you seen a kid named Sam? We got a report of him assaulting someone…this is, uh, his room, right?” “Ohmigawd I’m so sorry,” Sam’s body spoke with unexpectedly fluid femininity, “he just left to go grab something on campus. I don’t know when he’ll be back, though.” “Alright, thanks for your help. We’ll be back later. Can we have your name, for the record?” Sam’s face became flushed for a moment before forming a vague grin. “I’m… I’m Shuchun.”

What is going on?! What is happening?! Sam was shouting as loud as he could in his mind while ‘Shuchun’ rested on the couch, taking it all in. She abruptly replied out loud after 30 minutes: “Isn’t it obvious? I…” she laughed before continuing. “Maybe it’s not obvious. I thought I was you for a long time. I was in your head, your body, feeling everything you felt…but after a while, you kept arguing with me. I thought that was normal, too. I thought I – or you? – was talking to myself or something. But it kept happening, and happening, and happening…and you attacked Kaleb! Not me, th-that was you!” Shuchun unexpectedly caught her breath, not expecting to feel intense emotions. “A-And before that…I thought my body was changing. But it was your body. Your body was changing…because of me. And I… I must have just sped it up, I think? Hmm…”

Give me my goddamn body back! Let me out! Let me out! Sam yelled with ferocity that was only possible without physical vocal cords. After another long moment of thought, Shuchun spoke again: “I get it now. We were never the same to begin with. I…I can even think to myself with my own voice, and the yelling in my head… is who I used to be-no, the person I used to ‘inhabit.’ You can’t hear the thoughts in my head, can you?” What the fuck are you talking about?! Give me my goddamn body back, you fucking yellow whore! Shuchun held a hand to her head and laughed. “Oh my God, that’s right, I think I came to be…after you insulted someone. A small woman, like me.” Her laughing turned into a cackle. “Karma really is a bitch!”

Sam’s thoughts turned quiet when Shuchun threw off the baggy T-Shirt and loose boxers, then stepped into a steamy shower. He could vividly feel everything Shuchun felt despite having no control over her actions. The weight of her small breasts and hips with each turn, the long hair that tickled her narrow shoulders and back, the warmth of her inner thighs with nothing between them, and the sensitivity of her brown nipples as she molded them with soapy hands.

Over the next few days, Shuchun emptied Sam’s bank account for all kinds of girly clothing, accessories, and hygiene products. Sam’s mental voice would vary from rage, despair, pleading, or insulting as he was forced to see and feel the world through Shuchun’s eyes and body. Her body would occasionally react to Sam’s thoughts, like a finger twitch or a quick eye dart, but he was unable to wrestle any further control no matter how hard he tried. Goosebumps also raised on her body whenever she put a little extra care into her privates from how emasculated and ashamed Sam felt. Shuchun found that it helped arouse her, knowing that the man in her head could feel how open and vulnerable she felt when she spread her legs and touched herself.

“Ohhh! Mmm! Oooh!” Shuchun moaned one night, feeling extra devious and horny after a long week of acclimating to her new life. “Oooh yes, I’m Sam and I love…being a woman…” Sam’s mental voice was silent. It had only been a week and he had given up hope of escaping his prison. “Oooh Sammy, we’re so s-small…so cute…” Despite Sam’s hatred for his new reality, he could still feel Shuchun’s arousal. Her wet fingers inside of her body, then on her tongue. Her swollen, pinched nipples, and her smooth, lithe body on the bedsheets. This isn’t me… he finally thought out the blue, as if to remind himself that he should hate what he was feeling. “Do you think the boys liked the dress we wore today? I know the professor did…” Just the thought made Shuchun shiver with Sam’s discomfort, which only made her hotter.

“Sammy, you’re not arguing today,” Shuchun huffed. Not real… “We’re in this together, right?” she teased, biting her lip. Not real… Her back arched off the mattress as the vibrator began buzzing. “O-aa-aahh…!” Shuchun and Sam both reveled in the bliss of a female orgasm. As Shuchun calmed down, Sam thought: If I knew you were…th-this, I would’ve tortured you, too. I should’ve fucking tortured you… Shuchun’s lips curved into a sinister smile, and she spoke as if she were talking down to a child: “Awh Sammy, you’re such a sweetheart. Do you want…me to buy us some new toys? Hmm?” I want a bullet in my skull-your skull. Shuchun squealed and chuckled warmly as she began round two.

As weeks turned to months, Sam’s voice dimmed while Shuchun thrived living a new life that was uniquely hers. She ended up finding the woman who had thrown the dust into Sam’s face and told her everything that had happened – the woman was so thankful for the result that she ended up letting Shuchun live with her for the time being. Shuchun also made quick friends with Kaleb and dove deep into all kinds of games, books, and TV shows with her new gay bestie, proud to be the nerd that she was.

Neither Shuchun nor Sam knew exactly when it happened, but after feeling, moving, and looking like a woman for so long on top of feeling and experiencing her emotions and sensations firsthand, Sam’s own voice and identity became indistinguishable from Shuchun herself. When she had finally realized that Sam wasn’t quipping or buzzing in her head anymore, she figured that he may have finally been snuffed out for good.

I hate being stuck in here…! Shuchun thought to herself one night, trying to mimic Sam’s voice. But it wasn’t the same. Sighing, she mumbled that it had been fun while it lasted. She could still remember things from Sam’s lifetime, but it was simultaneously hard to believe he had ever existed at all. Over a year had passed in the blink of an eye, and she had just finished celebrating her ‘birthday’ as given to her by the woman who had essentially created her. Shuchun still had a lot to figure out given that she didn’t have any valid citizenship or identification, but she was beyond excited for what the future held and didn’t take a moment, or a single aspect of her autonomy, for granted.

This is a Patron reward for IP, thank you sooo much!! I had fun with this one, trying a concept I hadn't done before~ Enjoy!

Patreon | DeviantArt | Blogger

RC = Race Change

ID = Identity Death

23 notes · View notes

inkyleaf · 8 months ago

Text

TG 214: Foxy Fairy-Tale (M2F Fox Girl)

Rain pattered against Alan’s window as he spent yet another night alone in his room on the computer. He had been slaving away at a dead-end job and relied on games and the internet for any trace amount of joy ever since his girlfriend of five years dumped him several months ago. Her words continuously rung in his head: “You’re almost 30 and you’re still not serious about your career or investing in anything…!” She would scold him like a mother would to her kid, but she wasn’t wrong. Alan had coasted through life up until this point, skating by with just enough money to pay rent and live reasonably well. It was difficult to feel motivated to do more than he was already doing since it had been working out for so long.

Alan’s room was unusually cold that night, probably due to the storm outside. It didn’t feel too bad at first since he kept his work clothes on until it was time for bed. “Oh my God, I’m such an idiot...” Alan grumbled to himself, realizing that he had forgotten to do laundry that day. He was practically shivering when undressing, looking for anything to wear and sleep in that didn’t stink to high heaven. At the back of his closet, he found an old hoodie that used to belong to his ex. It was mostly orange with ragged fox ears on top. The sight of it made Alan’s heart drop. He had been trying to move on for so long, and the hoodie brought back memories.

Alan held the hoodie in front of him for a while, lost in his own thoughts. If I hadn’t done… If I just did this, maybe we could’ve… Ugh. The hoodie was from a fair that Alan had taken his ex to during their first year of dating. They kissed on a shoddy Ferris wheel and indulged in all kinds of greasy foods. His ex had pointed this hoodie out as a prize in one of the carnival games. Alan tried his best to win it for her; he didn’t end up winning, but he had spent so much money while trying that the game operator ended up giving it to him anyway.

After a lot of reminiscing, Alan reluctantly put the hoodie on for warmth, then slipped into bed. More thoughts and old memories began resurfacing after a few minutes corresponding to things his ex liked. She loved animals, with bunnies and foxes being among her favorites. She would often go out of her way to help at animal shelters in her free time. Alan remembered the one time he tagged along, feeling himself fall in love all over again as he watched and felt her glowing compassion for the animals.

Why did it have to end…she’s too good for me, I guess. Nearly thinking himself to tears, Alan decided that he’d rather sleep cold than torture himself with the past by snuggling within the hoodie. He felt the hoodie tighten against his chest as he threw the thin sheets to the side. Swinging his legs over the bed, his movements slowed and his arms had become more difficult to move within the stiffer clothing. A very faint, warm feeling welled within Alan. He didn’t know what it was at first, but it felt good. Good enough for him to lay his back down onto the bed on his stomach.

Alan’s whole body tensed and released a few times as the hoodie continued to constrict his upper body. A few light cracks and pops emitted from his shoulders and back as their bones and joints began to shrink and morph, grinding against themselves in the process; although to Alan, it felt like relief from a chiropractor. His fingers repeatedly tapped his mattress as they slimmed with elongating nails, unaware that the hoodie’s tightened long sleeves were reshaping his own arms and hands. Using his legs, he pushed himself further back onto the bed, feeling his cock twitch from the friction.

Alan opened his mouth as wide as he could, having difficulty breathing as his body continued to compact and as the fat in his stomach began to press hard into his body, flattening and redistributing itself; it felt like warm slime was churning underneath his skin. It also felt like his head was being squeezed as his jaw rounded, losing all traces of stubble in the process. His bottom lip trembled as he felt the flesh tighten and soften across his face, although he was unable to know what was actually happening.

Through great effort, Alan flipped onto his back and brought one of his hands to his level stomach, then slowly slid it towards his crotch. His thighs, which were beginning to bloat with feminine fat, were noticeably heavier as he tried to move his legs. He could feel his testes rubbing against them by the time he was able to whip his now-hard dick past his waistband. He was never a stranger to random moments of arousal, but this felt different. The greater energy welling within him was practically intoxicating!

“Unn…!” Alan hummed. He was barely able to stroke himself, but his cock felt so sensitive that it hardly mattered. He enjoyed the feeling of his long nails tickling his shaft, not realizing that he shouldn’t have had them in the first place. His short hair was beginning to grow out behind him, sprawling onto the bed. A faint crack emitted from his chest, following by a louder snap from the small of his back, arching it further off the mattress. A fizzy, almost tickling sensation formed near the base of his spine which only added to his pleasure. Although his body was hardly moving, his nipples felt like they were on fire as he could suddenly feel them against his shirt. The light brushing soon became distinct rocking as the skin around them swelled.

Alan bit his bottom lip, attempting not to cum too quickly. A shrill ringing filled his ears without warning. His glazed eyes regained focus as he felt them grow and slide higher up the sides of his head. His testes tightened hard against his body, inflicting him with significant pain while also pushing him closer to orgasm. A few long locks of hair moved to the front of his face due to his rising ears shifting some hairlines. He could feel his ears twitching on their own as distinguished hair and fur grew around and within them.

“Fuck…fuck! Oh God…!” Alan huffed, unable to hear how odd his voice sounded. His shrinking calves were kicked sporadically as his knobby knees flattened, solidifying new joints within shapely legs. As his skin became softer and thinner, most of his body hair evaporated which made him feel more sensitive than ever before. He clutched one of his growing breasts, pushing himself to the verge of climax. His fingernails were darkening and almost became sharp enough to piece his skin.

Miniscule slits opened within Alan’s tightening scrotum once his testes had fully withdrawn into his body. His dick began to follow suit, growing even harder while losing its urethra. Before Alan could finish himself, a painful jolt poked at his lower back. A small fleshy tail began to grow, deepening his pain as it was being crushed between his body and the dampened bed. Alan hurriedly yanked his pants down further and hoped that wiggling around could ease the pain, but once it became too much, he awkwardly rolled onto his side with one hand still vice griped onto his cock.

With his ears still ringing, Alan didn’t realize how loud he had become. His apartment neighbor was banging against the wall wanting the nearly prepubescent voice that was yelling and moaning to shut up. Frustrated by his position, Alan propped up onto his knees and laid the side of his face against the bed, desperate to release. There was no time to think about why his chest felt so much heavier. Intense waves of warmth spread all across his body as his shut eyelids softened underneath slimming, delicate eyebrows.

“Guuhgga-! aAA-!” Primal, high-pitched grunts and yips escaped Alan’s lips as he had finally made it, experiencing an orgasm like nothing he’d ever felt before. His whole body was so hot that he thought it’d melt. His cock had become small enough for his hand to feel the hot breaths of a blossoming womanhood teeming with wet secretion. Without realizing it, the tail that had given him so much discomfort was effortlessly being held high into the air as bright orange and white fur grew out. Alan’s hand batted and brushed against a new pussy as he continued to throttle what remained of his masculinity, becoming more wet than his sweaty scrunched face.

The long fuzzy ears on top of Alan’s head twitched, finally beginning to pick up on the loud knocking and on Alan’s own panting and moaning. With breasts pushed into the mattress, long hair obscuring his vision, and with his finger mindlessly poking around his crotch, he had no idea what was wrong with his body, but he felt too good to give it much thought. Before he could come down from his sexual high, he fell asleep and experienced all kinds of strange dreams.

Nonsensical flashes of memories he had with his ex raced through his mind. One moment they were at a carnival, then they were at some weird amalgamation of their high school and old family home talking about absolutely nothing. Then, he suddenly found himself in bed with her. Plushies of foxes littered her bed, but he didn’t care. It was the night he’d finally gotten lucky. As Alan re-experienced the best night of his life, greater sensations began to overwhelm him. His dream-self didn’t have the ability to think or stray from his reenacted memory, but he could feel his ex’s pussy stretching around his cock. He felt how sensitive her skin felt as he held her down, and he could even see his own face looking down despite simultaneously looking down at his girl. All of their senses had combined, and just when they were about to reach it…

Alan woke up in a daze with aches plaguing most of his body. Memories of what he felt last night slowly came back as he tried to remember what happened. His body jolted to the side after feeling the fur on his tail tickle his lower back, thinking there was a bug on him. “Uheaa-!” he huffed, battered with the surprising weight of new breasts and long hair. Stunned into silence, he looked down at his body, cupping his bosom through the hoodie as he craned his neck to see two supple thighs with nothing in between them. His vision blurred as he got out of bed, unable to believe anything he was seeing or feeling. Hobbling to the restroom mirror, a pretty girl with long orange hair, sharp black nails, and tall foxy ears looked back.

Alan screamed in horror, watching his reflection mimic every movement and expression. His mind was discombobulated. He could only walk up to the mirror, pace around his apartment, feel his body, and repeat the cycle as he tried to pull himself together. His long bushy tail prevented him from comfortably wearing pants which put his smooth dainty legs on full display. Eventually, he threw the hoodie off and lounged around his apartment naked once he had exhausted himself from anxiety.

“How did this happen…” Alan would often repeat to himself, still not used to the feminine voice he spoke with. He desperately wanted to call his friends and family, but he could still hardly believe he was moving a fox-like tail around and wiggling ears on top of his head. There was simply no way anyone would believe he grew new body parts on top of changing sexes. After realizing how hungry he was, he warmed up a frozen meal, grabbed a beer, and flipped to an American football game, wondering if he’d be able to focus on anything besides his new reality.

The beer tasted like piss in his mouth, and the frozen lunch wasn’t much better. Alan mindlessly watched the game as best he could. Although he was enjoying it, it took about an hour for him to realize that his priorities were off. He usually loved to think about strategy behind each move and player placement, and used to feel excited about each point his favored team scored. But now he found himself looking curiously at the close-ups of the athletes in between game moments. Their faces, shoulders, muscles…

Alan held a hand to his stomach when he saw a little kid get shown cheering on the jumbotron. What’s the score… Alan tried to consciously think, feeling his mind drift into places he didn’t want to go. Flashes from his dream were coming back. Flashes of being held down and penetrated from within his ex’s skin. His face scrunched in discomfort, feeling how wet he had become while fondling his breast with the other hand. The sound of the TV faded in the background, and he couldn’t convince himself that anything else mattered. He needed to be fucked.

Alan masturbated for hours in various positions, nearly losing count of how many times he orgasmed. He tried to force logic into his mind, and tried to remind himself how impossible this situation was in the first place, but none of it got through. He didn’t just want to be fucked, he wanted to have a child and a husband that would make a good father and treat him right… That’s not me, this isn’t right…

Tears rolled down Alan’s cheeks as he continued to slave away to his sexual desires long into the afternoon, feeling as if he was losing himself to something else. He thought about all the things he still wanted to do in life, like travel and get married to a beautiful woman. He also thought about all the girls he had crushed on in the past and how much he enjoyed hanging out with the guys, wondering if he’d ever be able to have some semblance of a normal life again.

Once the long hours had become days, Alan had become acclimated to her new anatomy but was still afraid to go outside for more than a few moments at a time. Long pants and a baggy hoodie were always required to hide her foxy attributes, and she didn’t know the first thing about being a woman. She was riding the last of her paid time off at work after emailing her boss about a family emergency; the threat of unemployment always terrified her, but it felt so miniscule compared to her current situation. Whenever she would people-watch at a park, her body continued to lust for men despite her conscious mind wanting nothing to do with them. Without proper clothing, her modest breasts were a constant source of discomfort, as she often felt erect nipples brushing the insides of a scratchy hoodie.

After a week had passed, Alan had finally become frustrated enough to swallow her pride and shop for fitting clothes. Not wanting anyone to notice her secret, she trial-and-errored bras and other clothing for hours in the dressing rooms. “Do girls really have to do this every day?” she whined, struggling to hook and unhook the bras. She slid panties up her silky legs and stepped into all kinds of casual dresses and skirts, wondering if this would ever be able to feel normal. Thinking of herself as female was still too unreal. Once she was trialing full outfits, she smiled to herself in the mirror, unexpectedly liking how she looked.

Money was tight, so Alan had to limit her purchases. Even the basics felt way too expensive, but she was happy with what she had. The long dresses didn’t fully hide her tail, and her ears would be on full display without a hoodie, but she lived in a pretty diverse urban area with all kinds of weirdos on pubic transports. Would anyone even think she was really part fox?

The one sensation that eventually began to rival Alan’s never-ending lust was her anxiety. After wearing fitting clothes for a day or two, she wanted more and thought about what she had to leave behind. She also thought about food, as she typically kept meals to the bare minimum to save on costs and wanted to feel like she could enjoy meals again. Money money money, I just…how am I supposed to get money if I can’t show up to work like this… Alan pondered as she mindlessly browsed the web and watched YouTube. Then, she opened Discord to see what her gaming friends and acquaintances had been up to the past week. At first, she felt sad, knowing that she couldn’t join a voice call and expect anyone to recognize her or believe what had happened. A few people had pinged her through text wondering about her absence. She almost found it humorous how difficult typing had become with her long nails. Feeling another wave of horniness approaching, she threw her top off and began to gently touch herself as she finished reading and replying to the messages under the guise of a screen name that felt like it was from a different lifetime. Imagine if the guys could see me right now, she thought, they would lose…their…hmm…

Whenever Alan got into the mood, she always had the most fun imagining a strong, reliable guy on top of her. Breeding her. Taking care of her. God, I want it more than anything…fuck… But with her mind on her gamer group, different thoughts and emotions were developing. These guys would go nuts…they’d do anything to touch a girl like this…like me. Ewwgh, most of them are so gross though. For the first time in a lustful moment, Alan could feel her arousal going down. She didn’t want to think poorly of her friends, but from a sexual or romantic point of view, they were just so icky! They were out of shape, spent most of their time gaming – like Alan used to herself – and it was impossible to think they had the capability to please and handle a woman. Alan put her top back on, feeling ashamed about her conflicting thoughts and emotions.

However, the seed of an idea was planted from that experience. Alan didn’t think it could work, but she snapped a few photos of herself the next day. One was her face after coming out of the shower with her ears and bare shoulders on full display. The other was a full-body mirror selfie of her posing with a twisted upper body in a sundress with her tail propped up, raising the back of the dress high enough to tease some of her legs without revealing anything too private. The angle also showed the side profile of her breasts through the dress, and she was happy that they looked bigger in her bra. She made a few new social media accounts using the name Alanah, then posted the photos and spread word across a few internet communities – communities that were notorious for being nerdy and male-dominated.

“Alanah,” she said to herself out loud with a chuckle. “Is that really my name now…? I guess it makes the most sense.” Although TikTok was ‘before her time’ in her mind, she reluctantly joined the platform and began filming short clips of her posing or making various expressions into the camera. It felt completely unnatural and cringeworthy, and she almost stopped herself multiple times. Once her photos and short videos were posted, she threw her phone into a cushion on the couch and lay flat on her bed, holding her face in her hands. I feel so dumb. Like something like this could ever work…

The next day, Alanah stared at her phone bug-eyed. Her new socials had blown up with dozens of comments and messages. Most of them were from creepy or socially inept guys complimenting her. A few others called her ugly and told her that she needed makeup which made her wince. But the experiment had worked, and no one suspected her foxy ears and tail to be real. These guys really did want a piece of her.

Alanah spent most of that morning tapping away on her phone replying to the comments. It was surreal to think about how uncertain she was about her appearance and identity while simultaneously digesting that hundreds of people now knew what she looked like. After another few hours of thought and labor spent setting up another new account, she decided to try streaming a game in hopes of garnering an audience that would donate money to her. Although not many people joined, her mind felt fractured after a few hours from trying to maintain focus on the game, entertaining and moderating the chatters, and subduing her own horniness that came and went in waves. By the time evening rolled in, she was exhausted despite feeling as if she hadn’t done anything all day.

Nevertheless, Alanah kept at the grind as she slowly gained popularity over the coming weeks. Her ‘work day’ routine of amateurish modeling, streaming, and networking helped her lean into her femininity, as what felt like a ridiculous pose or clothing choice at first began to blend into normalcy. After accepting the fact that she was visually competing with other women in a lot of ways, she started learning how to use makeup and surprisingly enjoyed it. Men were giving her a lot of attention outside, even when she wore baggy clothes to hide her ears and tail. It was difficult not to pounce on a few of them due to her seemingly never-ending state of being in heat, but she kept to herself and simply masturbated with them in mind later, far too afraid to have that kind of interaction with another person.

Once a couple of months had passed, living off dwindling savings and infrequent, yet generous donations from strangers, Alanah took the next step in her social media career. She wasn’t sure if it was a logical step or one suited to please herself, but she began to promote a new OnlyFans account which promised pseudo-NSFW content, as well as other services that she knew would help fans develop a parasocial relationship with her like joining one-on-one calls or sending specialized pictures and videos to individuals. The number of negative comments she received skyrocketed over the coming days…as did her income. Alanah had been able to effectively carve her own niche in the online space as a demure fox girl with – as media outlets put it – convincingly real ears and tail that she had never been seen without. Her fans loved to point out and talk about their realism as her ears would twitch or as her tail would move back and forth behind her on streams and videos. Alanah would playfully lean into insisting that they were real, knowing that no one would be able to either believe or prove it without seeing her in person.

Alanah’s life had been changing so fast that self-care and self-reflection into her growing pains had taken a backseat. Although she was happier and more successful in a moment-to-moment basis, she also felt overwhelmingly lonely. She could only interact with her friends through text, and playing games with them had all but lost its appeal to her. She interacted with so many fans every day, but it was her job; she was simply a character to them and wanted it to stay that way. She yearned for in-person interactions, but she didn’t want to be questioned or shamed for her ears and tail, as some people had called her names on the street before in thinking that her tail was plugged in.

One night, Alanah picked up her ex’s fox hoodie and put it on, thinking about the night it had all happened. I wish I could contact her, tell her about everything that’s happened… she thought. I wish I knew how it happened in the first place. I wonder if she’s…no, that’s not possible. She reached for her phone to read new comments, but stopped halfway. I spend way too much time on that damn thing now, even more than before. Can’t believe that’s possible. She instead reached for a dildo she had bought in an intense moment of weakness, then slipped her panties off while keeping the hoodie on.

So much has happened, baby… Alanah imagined a conversation with her ex as she masturbated. I turned into a girl…I’m a girl now. She clutched one of her breasts. Do you think that’s even weirder than growing a tail and fox ears? “Mmph…” Honestly, I think the weirdest part is that, through all of its ups and downs, I think I kind of like it. I still miss you, though. Miss what we had… “Ooh God…” I guess my least favorite part is the fact that I…ugh, really want to be a mother. God damn it, I want it so bad. More than anything. And I want a reliable man in my life. It still kind of grosses me out when I think too hard about it. But… “Fuck, fuck, yes…!” Alanah’s heat was spiking as she thought about what she truly wanted. But I don’t know the first thing about being a mom. Or a parent. Or a…girlfriend… Is it the hormones? I hoped this phase would pass, but I can’t stop feeling how I feel…

Alanah’s thoughts trailed off for a bit as she momentarily refocused on her physical pleasure. Can you believe I’m going to wake up tomorrow and act all girly in front of a few hundred people? Haha, some boyfriend I turned out to be…jeez, let alone the ‘boy’ part… “Ah-AWH…fuck! …Oh yesyesyesyes-awh-!” Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay, Alanah resumed her thoughts between orgasms; her thoughts were quieting down in comparison to the imaginary male athletes on top of her. By the end of the night, as she was licking her fingers clean, her reflections felt like they all came rushing back at once. She had truly become a woman, and this was her identity now. It was time to stop feeling so ashamed about her femininity and lust.

Putting herself out into the real world was tough, but Alanah knew she couldn’t live behind screens forever. She frequented areas where she could proudly show off her foxy body like conventions and costume cafés. Overtime, she made long-lasting friends and built up the courage to experiment with all sorts of guys, hoping that one day she would find the perfect man who could accept her for what she was and who she could raise a family with.

A Patron reward for Crankbait! Thanks so much!! <3 This story features a man reminiscing on memories of a past ex-girlfriend, suddenly finding himself turning into a fox girl in heat~

This story was patron-exclusive for 43 days.

Patreon | DeviantArt | Blogger

21 notes · View notes