Administered Femininity (3/4)

Jack got ready for bed in silence, cheeks burning as he tugged on the pajamas Clare had practically forced on him—mocha shorts and a matching top, loose and relaxed, but with a shape that still felt unmistakably girly. “Come on,” she’d said with a grin, “they look way better on you than whatever bland stuff you usually sleep in.” He’d gone red, too flustered to argue. Still pink in the face, he slipped off to the guest room, trying not to think about how natural they felt as he drifted off to sleep.

During the night, Clare slipped quietly into the guest room, her footsteps silent against the floor. Jack was sound asleep, breathing softly, the sheets tangled around his legs.

She moved carefully, brushing a lock of hair from his cheek as she uncapped the needle. “This should finish you off,” she whispered with a smirk, pressing the syringe gently into his arm and pushing the serum in.

She paused, watching the way his chest rose and fell, the camisole barely holding its shape over the soft curve beneath.

Then, almost playfully, she pulled out a second syringe from her robe pocket. “Just a little extra,” she murmured, slipping it in just above the first mark. “You know… just in case.”

His eyes fluttered open the next morning with a groggy sigh, his body still heavy with sleep. Right away, he could feel it—things hadn’t gotten better.

The once-loose shorts were now stretched tight, buried deep between plush, overgrown cheeks that jiggled with every breath. He shifted with a soft grunt, only to feel the camisole straining across his chest, the fabric pulled tight over two heavy, aching mounds.

He blinked, heart thudding, then slowly reached up and cupped one of them.

It filled his palm completely—soft, warm, and so heavy. The moment his thumb brushed over the swollen nipple, a sharp jolt of pleasure shot straight through his spine. His breath hitched. They weren’t just big—they were sensitive. Ridiculously so. He gave the mound a cautious squeeze, and another bolt surged through him, this time blooming lower, deep in his stomach.

He gasped, tearing the covers off as if they were suddenly too hot. The shorts clung obscenely, the lace edging digging into his hips, and he yanked them down with trembling hands—only to freeze.

His cock was gone.

In its place was nothing but soft, flushed skin. Folds glistening with slick warmth. He stared, panting, as a trickle of panic warred with something darker, something harder to ignore.

No. No, this wasn’t—he wasn’t—

His fingers moved without thinking. They brushed along the edge, tentative, but the second one slipped inside—tight, impossibly warm—his hips jerked like they’d been shocked. A breathy, helpless moan escaped his lips.

He squeezed his thighs together and felt it throb. The heat. The pressure. The need.

“F-fuck…” he whimpered, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice.

“Well well… someone looks like they’re really getting to know her new body,” Clare purred from the doorway, a smug little smile tugging at her lips.

“Ah!” Jake yelped, startled, scrambling to cover himself with the edge of the blanket—one arm crossing over his chest, the other shielding between his legs, even though it was far too late for modesty. His cheeks burned hot as he looked up at Clare.

“Clare, I—I’m literally a woman now,” he blurted, voice high and breathy, cracking as it caught in his throat. “Y-you said this was, like, an allergic reaction or—or something!”

Clare just smiled, tilting her head slightly as she stepped into the room. “Well,” she said sweetly, “you were allergic… it just turns out the allergen was your Y chromosome.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I figured I’d help you out.”

Jake blinked, his breath catching. “You… you did this…” he said softly, eyes wide.

Clare nodded slowly, stepping a little closer. “I’ve always had a hunch, you know. The way you moved, the way you’d stare at my clothes a second too long… the way you’d melt the second someone pampered you.” Her gaze lingered on him, calm and certain. “And the last two days watching you made me sure—you were meant to be a woman.”

Jake shook his head, but it was weak—barely even a protest. “N-no, I… I’m not—”

Clare raised a brow, smirking. “Really? You didn’t seem like you had a problem with your new body a few minutes ago,” she said, eyes flicking to the covers with deliberate slowness. “In fact, it looked like you were enjoying it quite a bit.”

Jake just turned bright red, his mouth opening like he might say something—then closing again just as quickly. He couldn’t find the words.

Clare’s smirk deepened as she stepped forward and gently took his hand, giving his fingers a light squeeze. “Come on,” she said with a teasing lilt, “let’s help you get properly acquainted with that pretty new body of yours.”