Swallowing His Pride (1/2)

Alex had begged for weeks. It had started innocently enough—a joke during dinner, a playful nudge when they were watching Netflix. But it didn’t take long for his requests for a blowjob to become repetitive. “C’mon, babe, just once. You’ll love it, I promise.” Michelle, for her part, wasn’t interested. She didn’t like how pushy he was being, and frankly, the whole idea of doing it on command felt degrading. But Alex was persistent.

When his birthday rolled around, she relented. “Fine,” she sighed. “One time. But don’t get used to it.”

He couldn’t believe his luck. As he sat back, Michelle lowered herself reluctantly, her soft lips brushing against his dick. She tried to make it as clinical as possible—get it over with, no frills, no enthusiasm. Alex didn’t care. The way her lips felt, the way her head bobbed—it was everything he’d fantasized about. But when she felt his hips twitch and his breathing quicken, she panicked and tried to pull back, only for his hands to tighten on her head, holding her in place.

Her muffled protests vibrated against him, but it was too late. His grip tightened as he groaned, his hips pressing forward while he emptied his load deep into her throat.

Michelle gagged, pulling herself away with tears streaming down her face. “You’re an asshole!” she screamed, wiping her mouth and storming out of the room.

For the first few days, Alex called and texted her, trying to smooth things over. But as the silence dragged on, he gave up. She wasn’t going to respond, and he figured she was through with him. That was fine by him. In the end, he’d gotten what he wanted from her, hadn’t he?

But his smug attitude came crashing down one morning. Heading out for work, Alex barely made it a few steps before his vision blurred, and everything faded to black.

When he woke up, he immediately knew something was wrong. There was an odd weight on his chest, heavy and foreign. His movements felt off, his balance strange, and as he sat up, his reflection in the full-length mirror across the room confirmed his worst fears.

A total knockout stared back at him. Wide, doll-like eyes, long lashes fluttering with every blink. Long chestnut hair cascaded over slim, feminine shoulders, framing a face that was unnervingly beautiful. His chest—no, her chest—was dominated by full, round breasts that looked far too perfect to be real.

Before he could fully process what had happened, Michelle walked in. She looked calm, almost smug, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Morning, Alyssa,” she said, emphasizing the name with a mocking smile.

“Michelle? What the hell is this?” Alex’s voice came out soft, higher-pitched than it should’ve been. His hands flew to his throat in horror.

“Oh, this?” she said, gesturing at his body. “It’s your new life. My dad wanted you dead after what you pulled. But lucky for you, I had a better idea. As long as you play along, you get to live. So congratulations, Alyssa—you’re about to learn what it feels like to be treated like a piece of meat. Just like you treated me.”

Over the next few weeks, Michelle drilled Alyssa into her new role. It wasn’t enough to just pass as a woman—she had to be flawless. Everything was about perfection: hair, nails, makeup. She was dressed in tight tops, skirts that barely covered her thighs, and lingerie that left little to the imagination. Michelle’s lessons weren’t gentle, either.

“You need to sell it,” Michelle would snap, pulling Alyssa’s shoulders back to emphasize her chest. “Guys don’t want shy. They want sexy.”

By the time Michelle was done with her, Alyssa had become every man’s fantasy. But the worst part wasn’t the clothes or the makeup—it was what came next. Michelle had pushed her into the deep end, forcing her to bring a man back to the apartment one night. The lessons weren’t just for show; Michelle expected Alyssa to perform.

She had no choice. She led the man to her room, her heart pounding in her chest as she knelt before him. With shaking hands, she unzipped his pants and took his cock into her mouth. She tried to focus on the motions Michelle had drilled into her: slow, teasing strokes, a flick of her tongue here and there, keeping her rhythm steady.

She could feel his reactions—his shallow breaths, the way his hips began to move with her—and she knew he was close. Her heart raced. She was supposed to swallow. That had been drilled into her relentlessly. But as he tensed and let out a groan, her panic took over. At the last moment, she pulled her lips away with a gasp, and he came all over her chest instead, his cum dripping between her breasts.

She froze, staring down at the sticky mess dripping over her cleavage, the lace of her bra ruined. Turning her head, she caught Michelle’s expression in the doorway—a slow, deliberate shake of her head.

Alyssa’s stomach sank. She’d made a mistake. A big one.