Dinner party

The dinner party was in full swing, the air thick with the sound of clinking glasses and murmured conversations. Faded lighting from ancient lanterns illuminated the garden, with its sprawling tree serving as a natural centerpiece. It was idyllic, a perfect backdrop for an evening of refined company and sumptuous food. But to Lila it felt more like a prison.

She adjusted her position uncomfortably, trying to ignore the whispers and stares coming from the men around the table. Her curly long hair kept getting in her eyes, making her feel like a circus freak. Especially because every time she moved, she felt the uncomfortable sensation of her breasts swaying against the fabric of her tight dress. It was a constant reminder of everything that she hated about her current situation.

Lila tried to focus on her plate, moving around the few pieces of food with her fork. Her father didn't even seem to pay attention to her, and she wasn't sure if it was because he felt guilty or if he really just didn't care. She was starting to think it might be the latter, since he was currently flirting with a woman sitting next to him and remembered how he with the reality-altering device turned his son into daughter to get him to be obedient and not to waste his life being an asshole who drinks and sleeps with everything with breasts and a pussy.

The men at the table, colleagues and clients of her father, were oblivious to her internal rage and discomfort. They saw only a beautiful young woman, just like she used to when she was still a man. One of them, a middle-aged man with a booming laugh, leaned in closer, his big belly brushing against her elbow.

"You have your father's eyes," he said, chuckling, "But you're much prettier."

Lila forced a tight, closed-mouthed smile, the muscles in her face straining. Her father's eyes? She didn't want to be compared to him, didn't want to be here at all. She knew what that comment meant and that this man wanted to flirt with her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father look at her at that moment and she felt anger inside, but tried not to let it show. "Thank you, sir," she said in a strained tone.

"So, Lila, tell us about yourself. What do you enjoy doing?" continued the man, undaunted by her obvious discomfort and seating himself beside her.

"I..." Lila trailed off, the words sticking in her throat. Her mind went blank. What did she enjoy? She enjoyed drink, parties, sex. The life of a man, not of a proper, elegant, cultured young lady like she was supposed to be now. Her body burned with the desire to go to a bar and drown herself in a sea of whiskey. But her father was only one who knew how to change her back and only one who knew who she used to be. So she swallowed, her plump lips feeling like rubber, and replied: "Reading, I... I like reading. That's what I like doing, yes, I do enjoy reading."

The man nodded and smiled. "Oh, a scholar! We could use a mind like yours on our company's board." He placed his hand on her shoulder and Lila jumped slightly. Her heart raced and her gaze caught the gaze of her father, captivated by this spectacle, his mouth twisted in a sneer, and she didn’t even know how to interpret it, so she looked at him questioningly, expecting anything other than an approving nod.