Ever since I was a kid, I was something of a thrill seeker. I was only twelve years old when I found the joy of driving cars and only three months after to get into my first car accident, but that didn’t do anything to quell my newfound love of racing, a love that stuck with me into adulthood. Working at a grocery store, I found that street racing was an excellent way to supplement my income. I quickly gain a reputation as someone with guts, willing to go all the way for a win. It was that reputation that earned me an invite to an exclusive racing club. It had no official name, but they raced for what they called “slips or slits”.
The majority of these races were for pink slips, meaning the winner would get the loser’s car, a risky but potentially lucrative prospect. Every week, there would be at least one “pink slits” race. These were the main events as the prize for winning and the punishment for losing was far more dire. Instead of the car, the drivers’ masculinity was on the line. The winner would absorb all of the masculine essence from the loser, enhancing his male features in every way, including his sexual prowess. The loser’s body would then be flooded with feminine essence, transforming them into women in every way save for their mind. They and the other members of the club would remember who the loser was before the race, but in the eyes of the rest of the world, the loser was born a female, reality shifting to accommodate their new identity.
The loser could still race for slips or petition for a redemption race. In this race, the transformed racer can regain their male form by absorbing the masculine essence of their opponent along with any enhancements their opponent may have gotten. However, should they lose, their mind would be altered to become the winner’s perfect slave. They would no longer be members of the club but still accompany their masters to club events, their only purpose in life to look pretty and please their man. Read more