Stretch, Sweat, Swallow (1/4)

Little 4 part caption that'll be released over the next week:
Part 2 this Sunday
Part 3 this Tuesday
Part 4 next Friday

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Nick barely had time to close the door before she shoved the photo into his chest.

"Her? Really?" Jess's voice cracked with a venom he'd never heard before. There she was—his girlfriend of two years—glossy lips curled in disgust, holding up a photo on her phone: him, balls deep in some smug little brunette from his gym—the same girl he swore was "just a friend."

"Jess, please," Nick stammered, trying to take her hand. "It was just once—"

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms. "Don’t even bother with excuses. We’re done."

The words hit him like a punch. His chest hollowed out. “No, no, Jess, please—baby—I’m begging you.” And just like that, Nick dropped to his knees. “I’ll do anything, I swear! I’ll change—”

Her laugh was cold. “You really are pathetic.”

She looked down at him, mascara-perfect lashes fluttering as if in thought. Then, almost absently, she asked, “Anything, huh?”

He nodded, eyes wide, sniffling.

She smiled. Not the sweet one. The dangerous one. “Fine. You’re gonna let me turn you into a cute little yoga girl. Just like the one you fucked.”

Nick’s breath caught. "W-What?"

"You heard me. Makeup, nails, tight little outfit. Since you couldn’t keep your dick out of her, I figure you can find out what it’s like to be her."

He blinked. “I… I’ll let you,” he whispered, barely able to meet her eyes as the weight of what he’d just agreed to started sinking in.

That was all she needed.

It started with the waxing. Not just the chest—everything. Arms, legs, pits, even a cheeky pass between his thighs while she giggled at his squirming. His skin was red, smooth, and tingling. Then came the brows: plucked and shaped into sleek little arches—delicate, sculpted, and unmistakably feminine.

"God, you're gonna be so pretty," she smirked, dragging a brush across his eyelid. The eyeshadow was soft and smoky, a shimmering taupe blended perfectly up to a faintly glittered brow bone. She lined his eyes with jet-black liner, flicking the corners upward just slightly. False lashes followed—fluttery, flirty, and way too long.

Foundation, contour, blush—her hands worked like an artist. A warm bronzer kissed his cheeks, a subtle highlight catching the light whenever he moved. His lips? Painted a deep matte cocoa-brown, lined with precision, and plumped with a little gloss in the center.

When she slipped the outfit on him, he gasped.

A sky-blue sports bra—stuffed with just enough padding to round him out—hugged his chest tight, making even Nick do a double-take. The matching leggings clung like a second skin, compressing him in all the wrong ways.

Hair sleek and straight, parted down the middle. Nails, long and almond-shaped, painted a glossy nude pink.

He stared at himself in disbelief. “I… I look…”

“Hot, right?” Jess grinned, tugging at the waist of his leggings with a snap. “Just like her.”

Nick turned, barely breathing. “So… what now?”

Ding-dong.

Jess's grin widened, eyes glinting.

“Oh, I invited a few of your friends over. Thought they could help you… stretch.”

She turned without another word and walked off to answer the door, leaving him standing there—made up, feminized, and terrified of what came next.