Guy Stuff

It had been an innocent little joke. “What are you a guy or something?” But my friend, April, hadn’t enjoyed it.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Hey, calm down. I didn’t really mean anything. It’s just that you’ve been doing a lot of guy stuff is all. Action movies yesterday, fishing today. You know…”
“Ugh, do you have any idea how annoying it is to have to deal with this all the time? So I’m a girl. I like what I like, deal with it.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Well maybe somebody should help you out with that.”

I saw a malicious glint in her eye as she grinned at me. That couldn’t be good. I tried to run away, but I was rooted to the spot. I couldn’t move anything but my head.

“What are you doing.”
“Be quiet, I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Like hell! I’m not going to just let-” I felt a sharp sting in my backside.
“I promise, this goes a lot better for you if you shut up now.” It didn’t look like I had a choice.

My entire body went numb. I tried to look down to see what was wrong, but my body wouldn’t let me. I could tell it was something serious. I could tell me head was getting lower to the floor, and started to see blond hair creeping into my vision. When she finally let me go, I realized what she’d done. I was a scrawny little girl. Sure, I was flat chested with no curves to speak of, but I was still clearly no longer a man. I grimaced, at least with my shortish hair and the right outfit, I could still probably pass for male.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking, and yes, you probably could hide your new sex if you wanted.” That shouldn’t amuse her as much as it did. “But I’m trying to teach you a lesson, remember? Each time you do ‘guy stuff,’ it’ll become a little harder for you to hide what you are. Have fun, I’ll check up on you tomorrow.”

OK, so I just need to avoid manly activities, and I get to stay boyish until the punishment is done? That can’t be too bad. On the first day I dressed my best to hide what she’d done to me. I got downstairs and plopped on the couch, and kicked up my feet. After maybe an hour, I felt a tickling on the pack of my neck. I reached back, and felt my hair, down to my shoulders and a bit softer than the day before. At the same time, my phone lit up with a message from seemingly no number. “Only guys dress for the day in rough baggy clothes.” Shit, this was going to be harder than I thought.

I went back to my room, and found a tight t-shirt and skinny jeans on my dresser. Convenient. I put them on and decided it was time for some food. I was just pulling out of my driveway when I felt another vibration from my phone. “Only guys leave the house without makeup.” For real? What was going to change this time? Getting out of the car I felt it, the distinct sensation of the seatbelt sliding over my sensitive nipple. Running inside, I found that my chest had gotten puffy. My nipples has enlarged, and showed right through my tight shirt. I found a make-up in my bathroom to fix my transgression, and next to it a bra. It was only an A-cup, but I hadn’t need one at all a few minutes ago.

I figured a good meal was exactly what I needed to calm down. I hurried to the local diner, and thought about everything I’d ever seen my girlfriends eat. Surely I’d be OK ordering that, right? When the waitress came I asked for an eggwhite omelet, a side of wheat toast, a ceasar salad, a fruit smoothie, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt with granola. “Girl, I wish I could eat like you and keep a figure like that,” she said, and left. With that, I felt a buzzing from my phone yet again. “Only guy’s stuff their face every chance they get.” God damn it! It only took a second to realize what she’d changed this time; I might have ordered a lot, but I know your pants don’t get any tighter until you’ve at least eaten the food.

Another text came through. I picked it up, confused. I hadn’t even done anything new this time. “That’s three violations in less than an hour. There must be consequences.” I didn’t have time to even think what that could mean before I blacked out.

When I awoke, I felt myself tied to a bed, with my arms stretched out over my head. April stood over me with a disapproving look on her face. “I see you haven’t even tried to comply. That’s no good at all. So, to teach you what happens to uncooperative girls, I invited your friend Chris over, telling him I’d set him up with my kinky friend Alice.”
“I’d sooner bite his head off than let him fuck me!” I spat in April’s face. As soon as I did, I was wracked in pain. It felt like my arms were being pulled out of thier sockets, and my back threatened to break. The bitch was torturing me!
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” she said, as she loosened one of my restraints. She saw my furious glare. “Hey, I didn’t do that. You made the choice to act like a man, and lost a few inches of height for it yourself. Now be a good girl or I can’t promise what other changes will happen here.”

Chris came in, and didn’t waste any time. He was merciful, whether he knew it or not, by putting a finger to my lips the first time I tried to say something and telling me “no talking.” Now all I needed to do was lay back and pretend to enjoy this. It actually wasn’t so hard. Just a deep breath here, a stifled moan there. Thankfully I didn’t need to move either, not that I could. After a few minutes of him kissing my neck, and rubbing his hands over me, things started to change. For whatever reason, I started to feel it more. It was like, the pleasure he was causing wasn’t overwhelming, but it didn’t go away before he made more. Eventually I didn’t need to fake the noises I was making. Every time he ran his finger over my nipple, or sucked on my neck, or lightly stroked my pussy, I felt a new surge of adrenaline. But he wasn’t going any farther. Try as I might, I couldn’t loosen my bonds at all to take it to the next level myself. Was that the punishment? Then I realized it. I needed to ask for it. I had to ask Chris to fuck me. That was definitely the punishment.

“Please, I need you to-“
“I said no talking!” He clamped his hand firmly down over my mouth. “So, getting impatient? Fine. Well, you’re fucked now sweety.” Keeping his hand over my mouth, he slid his other under my back, and lifted me up of the bed as much as my bonds would allow. Abruptly he filled me, and sent my mind sailing over the edge. I couldn’t let out a peep, couldn’t move a muscle. All I could do was hang there in his arm, legs quivering, and beg him with my eyes to make me his. This was ecstacy. This was the greatest thing I’d ever experienced in my life. And now I knew it. That had to be the torture. Chris finished across my stomach, and I blacked out again. I woke up back at home on my couch, the sun nearly down. My phone displayed the message “Let that be a lesson in the risks of defiance.”

I’d definitely taken that lesson to heart. I avoided April like the plague these past two days, but I still gave her curse plenty of thought. In fact, I didn’t do anything without first thinking about it. I just couldn’t bear the thought of making a decision without first seeing all the ways something might count as “guy stuff”. For example, just now I had a choice of guns at the shooting range. I liked the Beretta, but 9mm might have been a bit girly. The .45 was clearly the way to go. I gotta say, this is something else. I could really get used to the way this recoil reverberates around my new assets. I just wish the range didn’t have such a strict no texting policy. It’s killing me to see how many of these messages are from Chris and how many are just congratulations on my choices.


Leave a Reply