Not So Soft

Dylan always acted like he owned the place—cocky, smug, constantly bragging about the girls he pulled and sneering every time Evan stayed home alone. He’d strut through the apartment shirtless, casually tossing off remarks about how Evan was “just too soft” to know how to handle a real woman. Eventually, Evan had enough.

It started quietly. Estrogen slipped into Dylan’s protein shakes, blended into his pre-workout. Evan watched, silent, as the changes came. Muscles that once pulled shirts tight began to soften. Skin grew smooth. Facial hair stopped returning. The subtle swelling on his chest went unnoticed for weeks. Mood swings followed—quick flashes of emotion Dylan couldn’t explain, irritability, sudden tears. But he still thought he was in control.

The cage came next. One morning, Dylan woke up with his penis locked in a tiny chastity cage. No warning, no explanation—just Evan standing nearby with the key. There was no struggle. Dylan was already too softened to fight it, and Evan made it simple: he could have the key back—if he behaved.

Makeup and new clothes were introduced over time. It started with concealer and subtly reshaped brows. Then a nude lip tint, softer v-neck shirts, low-rise jeans that hugged his hips too closely. His shirts got shorter. Slowly, the line blurred. By the end of the month, no one would have guessed the cute girl mincing around in short skirts and high heels had ever been a man.

A few months later, Evan took him to a clinic. Dylan left with huge E-cup implants that bounced and swayed with every step. His shirts stretched tight, barely covering the round, heavy breasts pressing against every neckline. Evan made sure he wore only the shortest crop tops and tight shirts, forcing him to feel every movement, every jiggle. Dylan flushed, helpless as his new curves became impossible to hide.

Now, a year later, Dani knelt obediently between Evan’s legs, her name and gender long since changed on every legal document. Her thick lashes fluttered as she struggled to keep eye contact. Her caged clitty throbbed helplessly, twitching with every needy pulse as she took him deeper into her throat. Lips stretched wide, throat opening to accommodate the full length of his cock, she gagged softly—moaning each time her nose brushed the base. Her hands cupped and squeezed her heavy breasts, fingertips teasing the over-sensitive skin around her implants, her nipples stiff and aching.

Evan leaned back on the couch, watching her work with a lazy grin, fingers tangled in her hair as he guided her head up and down. He was in no rush. Every motion was slow, deliberate. Every thrust a reminder.

“Still think I’m too soft?” he chuckled, his hips bucking forward, driving his hard cock all the way to the hilt, stuffing her throat full in one smooth, brutal motion. She gagged around him, eyes rolling back as drool slipped from the corners of her stretched lips, her nose buried against his skin. Her throat spasmed around the thick length, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

Evan held her there, savoring every twitch of her throat around him, her nose buried against his skin, her air cut off completely. Then, with a deep groan, his hips jerked—thick, hot cum flooding her throat in pulsing waves. She could only moan around him, swallowing on instinct, her lips sealed tight around his shaft. He didn’t let go until he was completely spent, holding her down through every last drop.

When he finally released her, Dani pulled back slowly, gasping, her face a dripping mess of spit, tears, and smeared makeup. Her heavy tits bounced with every breath, her hands still mindlessly playing with them like a good little toy.

Evan looked down at her wrecked face and grinned.

“So… what do you think?” he asked, cock still twitching. “Think I know how to handle a real woman now?”

Dani looked up at him, glassy-eyed and cock-drunk, a thin strand of cum still clinging to her chin. Her heavy tits rose and fell with every needy breath, her clitty straining uselessly against its cage.

She nodded.