I’m scared. I’ve been scared for the last few weeks, ever since I threatened to expose my company’s illicit activities. Back then I was a man, just an ordinary guy working a dead end job who came across some files he wasn’t supposed to see. I should have done the right thing and gone right to the authorities, but instead I tried to blackmail one of the higher ups into giving me a promotion.
That certainly didn’t work. They laughed in my face, and before I even had a chance to reach for my phone, there was a security guard on top of me. It turns out there was a whole lot more going on at the company than what I had discovered. For instance, the R&D department had developed technology that could completely alter a person’s appearance, right down to the contents of their boxer shorts. It makes for a very effective way of making a person disappear without having to worry about a messy murder.
With the flip of a switch, I was transformed into a busty twenty-something with long dark hair, luscious pink lips, and smooth tawny skin; also with no identification, no history, and no credibility if I ever tried to reveal what I had discovered. But they didn’t stop there. Just for good measure, the company threw me on a truck bound for Mexico and left me on the other side of the border. They probably hoped that the streets of Mexico would take care of the murder they didn’t want to dirty their hands with, but so far I’ve managed to survive.
That’s not to say it hasn’t been difficult. At first, just walking with this strange new body was difficult. My balance is all out of whack, and I can barely see my dainty new feet past the giant tits on my chest. Fortunately, I’ve met lots of men who seem eager to help me out. Of course, that how it seems. Like an idiot, I had taken French all through school thinking it would be a good way to pick up chicks. I should have listened to all the advisors who said Spanish would be better for my future. Now I am a chick – the sexy kind that guys seem quite eager to pick up – and I’ve only got body language to communicate.
When the first guy bought me a meal, I knew he’d be looking for some sort of payment. The thought of spreading my legs for another man’s penis was unthinkable for me. I may have been given the body of a woman, but I still knew who I was on the inside. However, I was worried about what would happen if I refused flat out. I resigned myself to doing the second most revolting thing I could think of, but the only thing I knew would keep the help coming. When the swarthy stranger came all over my face, I coughed and sputtered and almost vomited, but the man still seemed pleased, and I had a place to stay for the night.
I move around a lot, repeating the pattern of that first night. Whenever a guy starts suggesting that he wants more than my plump female lips around his cock, I hit the road. After that, it’s a simple matter to find a stranger willing to provide for my needs in exchange for a blowjob. I’ve gotten used to the pungent aroma of a man’s penis, and I know longer freak out when it spews that sticky white fluid. In fact, I can even take an entire load down my throat without gagging, a fact I’m particularly proud of, though I don’t know why . . .
I’m scared – scared of how easily I’ve grown accustomed to this new life. I no longer mind when a guy wants to buy me a sexy new outfit, because I know it’ll help me ensnare the next one. I walk with a sexy strut, swinging my round hips like I’ve been doing it for years, and I’m no longer shocked when stranger stare at my ass as I walk by. And if I’m fully honest, I’m longer revolted at the thought of giving a blow job. I’ve even started to look forward to it. The thing that scares me the most is what I realized right when my tongue tasted the first sweet drop of pre-cum from this stud’s cock: I no longer think of myself as a man. It shouldn’t be that surprising, with my delicate features, swirls of long dark hair, and fleshy tits, together with my provocative clothing, perfect make up, and the cock between my hands. I’m all woman, body and soul. And if this man wants me to spread more than just my lips for his cock, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist.


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