Trixie

— Whoa-ooh, now those are tits... — Dylan nearly stumbled when he noticed the girl sitting on the bench, staring off into the distance. Red hair, a flowy floral dress, and breasts… breasts that looked like they were about to rip the fabric at the seams.

He slowed down, his eyes locked onto the deep neckline that didn’t hide a thing — in fact, it only made her curves stand out even more. Suddenly, the girl flinched, as if snapping back to reality, then tilted her head slightly and tugged at her neckline, revealing her already noticeable boob even more.

He raised his hand to his forehead, like checking if it was a mirage.

But it wasn’t. She was staring at her breasts like… like she was seeing them for the first time? With this weird, totally out-of-place smile.

…

— So heavy... who would've thought — Trixie mumbled out loud, still pulling at the fabric over her chest, like she couldn’t believe this was her body. Her hand trembled slightly. Not from fear. From… excitement? The sunlight gently slid across her skin, and the dress clung to her new, overly sensual figure like it belonged there.

— Hey, gorgeous! — a voice called out from afar, and Trixie flinched.

— What the... who—someone else is here?! — she almost squealed, yanking her hand away from her boob and jolting upright on the bench. Her massive breasts shifted with a heavy bounce, making every muscle in her body tense to keep from tipping over.

— Whoa, easy there, sweetheart — came a confident, slightly cocky voice.

She slowly turned her head. Dylan Hawkins stood right in front of her. Yep, that Dylan. Baseball cap backwards, a tank top showing off his jacked delts, and that smug grin she knew way too well. Because... usually, that asshole made her — or rather, him, Brian Stevenson — do all his homework.

'FUCK!' shot through her head. 'It’s fucking Dylan! What the hell is he doing here?! I was supposed to be alone! And... is he seriously flirting with me right now?! I mean… oh right… fuck, I’m a damn sexy chick now.'

— What’s got you all worked up? — Dylan kept smiling, his eyes gliding from her face down to the very edge of her neckline. — I was just saying hi. Didn’t know there were such… ahem… sights around here.

Trixie swallowed hard. Her breath hitched, her boobs rising and falling heavily, barely contained by the dress. Her heart thudded in her temples. One thought kept spinning in her head: get out, get out, get out!

— Uh… h-hi — she muttered, almost stumbling over her own voice. So high, so soft… so female. She’d never heard it before.

— New around here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before. Though someone like you’d be hard to forget — Dylan sat down next to her like there was nothing between them. No past, no assignments, no remote Brian had used for this transformation, thinking no one else would be around.

He leaned in closer. The smell of cheap cologne and something minty hit her nose.

— So, what are we doing just sitting here? Wanna go for a walk, huh? Ice cream, the beach… you, me... — he winked.

Trixie pressed herself into the back of the bench. The heat coming off him wasn’t from the sun — it was the situation. She could feel the dress stretching tighter over her massive, heavy tits with every breath.

— Uh… thanks, but I… I should probably go — she mumbled, her eyes darting toward the remote she had set aside after the transformation. That remote was her only way back.

— Go? — Dylan echoed, leaning a little closer. — You sure you didn’t just walk off the cover of some magazine? I swear, I almost choked when I saw you.

Trixie let out a nervous chuckle, but inside she clenched up. This was starting to feel like a nightmare — where she, just minutes ago a geeky dude, was now being hit on by the college’s alpha jock. And she couldn’t just hit a button and vanish. The remote only worked if no one was nearby.

'Fuck, Brian, you're a real genius… a dumbass genius. Why the hell did I think this would be fun?!'

— Y-y-yeah — Trixie started, pulling the remote toward her and hiding it behind her back, but then froze as she felt her boobs bounce forward, the fabric of the dress almost flashing her huge nipples.

— Whoa now... — Dylan exhaled, his eyes going wide as he leaned up. — You did that on purpose, didn’t you?

— N-no! — Trixie squeaked, yanking the dress up and pressing her elbows against her tits. The contact made her already sensitive nipples instantly stiffen, and to her horror, she let out that kind of breathy gasp — the kind she’d only ever heard in porn. — Ah...

And then she clamped her mouth shut, teeth clenched, her face burning red.

— Hooooly shit... — Dylan breathed, with this weird sort of reverent awe.

Trixie felt a chill crawl down her spine despite the blazing sun. He was staring directly at her tits while she sank into the bench, ass pressing down on the remote behind her, probably already clicking something.

— Uhh... — She didn’t know where to look, where to put her hands, or where to put herself. Her shoulders lifted like that could somehow hide her cleavage. — I… I really have to go.

— What’s the rush, Red? — Dylan smirked and shamelessly leaned his elbow on the backrest, practically pinning her against the wooden slats. — You just gave me the best damn moment of my life, and now you’re gonna vanish? No goodbye kiss?

— What?.. No! — Trixie tried to stand, but his knee shifted in, blocking her way. She froze, breath hitching again, the dress pulling tight once more — and her nipples, like assholes, reacting to every twitch of her nerves.

— Look, I just... — she shook her head, hair falling across her face. — I need to...

'How the hell do I get rid of him?! Oh! Right! Why didn’t I think of this sooner!?'

— I have a boyfriend, a-a-actually a husband — Trixie blurted out, shocked herself by the words. — He. He’s crazy! And… and I… I’m pregnant, yeah! There! You wanna hook up with a pregnant woman?! Is that your thing?!

Dylan jerked back like she’d just told him she had leprosy.

— Wh-what?! — his face twisted in a mix of panic and pure, unfiltered shock. — You… serious?

Trixie nodded, looking like she was about to cry. Or laugh. Or both. She took a shaky deep breath — and suddenly felt something pull her downward. And no, it wasn’t her heavy tits, which still felt alien on her chest. No. This was something else. Something in her belly.

— Oh... — she gasped as she looked down and saw something round bulging under her dress. Like someone had stuffed a watermelon under her skin when she wasn’t looking.

— Oh shit... — Dylan’s smirk vanished in a heartbeat, and he quickly stood up from the bench, scratching the back of his head. — I think I’m just gonna… yeah, I’ll go...

— WHERE THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING, ASSHOLE?! — a deep, growling voice ripped through the air, making Trixie spin around 180 degrees. A tall, bald guy covered in tattoos around his neck and arms was storming toward them, his face twisted in rage. He wore a tight tank top that clung to his mountain of muscles, and baggy jeans hanging low like he’d just walked out of prison.

— Who the fuck’s trying to hit on my girl?! — he growled, getting closer, his eyes locked on Dylan.

Dylan paled and started backing away. The smirk was long gone, replaced by a freaked-out, confused look.

— Uhh… dude, I didn’t know she was… yours… I just… I mean… — Dylan stammered, glancing around like a cornered animal. — She didn’t say anything! I swear!

— You saw she was pregnant, you dumb fuck! — the bald guy kept yelling, stepping right up to him. — Or you need a reminder smashed into your fuckin’ face?

— N-no, I’m leaving! It’s all good! All good! — Dylan blurted out, retreating fast, while Trixie, nervously darting glances between the two of them, noticed a ring on her finger and backed away. But she stopped — the remote. She’d left it on the bench. It was still there — shiny, compact, her salvation. The only way to get back. Back home. Back to her real body. Her normal, male life.

She took a step toward it — but in the same second, a strong hand clamped around her waist.

— Hey, baby, where you going? — the bald guy grinned, not letting go. — We’re going home! I told you not to wear that fuckin’ dress!

— I… I just need to… sit down — she muttered, trying not to show the rising panic.

— Sit down? — he narrowed his eyes but loosened his grip a little. — Belly pulling again, huh? Told you — should’ve stayed home instead of wandering around in this damn heat!

He suddenly scooped her up and turned toward the parking lot without another word.

— No! The remote!

But he just kept carrying her away, pretending not to hear, pulling Trixie farther and farther from her one and only chance to go back.