Chapter 4

Brianna pushed open the door to her dorm room, the three shopping bags dangling from her wrist making a racket as they swung from the motion. She had gotten Chris four bras; they weren’t very good bras, mostly spandex that covered the breasts with little support, but they would be better than nothing. Bras in his size were hard to find. She had also gone shopping for herself. She got some men’s boxer briefs she hoped would fit her well enough, though with her figure, she wasn’t sure; she was a fair bit bigger around at the hips than the waist. The last bag contained the largest condoms she could find at the pharmacy and the size below that. She hoped at least one of the two sizes would fit her new equipment—or at least fit well enough that she didn’t have to be too worried about breakage and Chris getting pregnant.

That thought felt very strange, her boyfriend getting pregnant. Not as strange as how seeing his boobs felt. He leaned back and stretched as he sat at her computer; the position emphasized his extremely large bust. She couldn’t stop staring, and the fact that he hadn’t gotten dressed didn’t help. He turned his head as he noticed her.

“Hey, you’re back. Did you manage to find a bra that might fit me?”

She shook her head to break her fascination with his chest. “Yeah, I think so.” She transferred the bag that held the bras to her other hand and walked over to Chris to hand it to him. “See how these feel, they’re not going to offer a lot of support, especially not at your size ... But they’ll be better than nothing.” As she had walked toward him, he had let the chair spin, so he was facing when she arrived. She glanced at his chest, just managing to stop herself from staring.

There was a fair bit of envy mixed into the foreign attraction. She’d always been a little insecure about the size of her bust, and while Chris’s obvious enthusiasm for it in the bedroom was helping, her feelings about his bust might have undone a fair bit of that.

Chris pulled one bra out of the bag and pulled it over his head. “Not sure about this ... I feel a bit squished.”

“You’ve got to adjust your boobs ... let me help.” She spun him on the chair and reached down over his shoulder and across his body to scoop his breast into position in the bra, then repeated the action on the other side. Touching his breasts like that set off a noticeable surge of arousal in both her parts; she felt her penis stiffen slightly. Being a still strange sensation this pulled far more of her attention, and she tried to ignore it. “Is that better?”

“Uh, I think so?” He paused and sat up a little straighter. “Yeah. They don’t feel quite so heavy on my shoulders ... still really heavy, though.”

“It should cut down on jiggle a bit too, hopefully enough to keep you comfortable until your proper bras arrive. If you want a bit more support, you could try wearing two of them.”

“I don’t really like the feel of the bottom part around my chest ... It’s a bit tight.”

“That’s the band, it needs to be a little tight. It’s the part that’s supposed to hold the weight of your boobs instead of your shoulders.”

Chris spun back around to face her again, “Ah, maybe I’ll wear two on my way to my dorm for the bounce reduction.”

Her eyes went straight to his chest. The bra was low-cut, and its simple design pushed his boobs together, creating a significant valley of cleavage. What surprised her was that this was even harder to look away from than just his bare boobs.

“Hey! Brie!”

She blinked and looked up at Chris’ face. She’d been staring. “Uh ... Sorry.” He just laughed a little and grinned. She felt her face getting warm from a blush.

“Don’t worry about it, I understand, it’s a lot. Er ... They’re a lot too ... but that wasn’t what I meant.” He smiled again, “I just wanted to wake you back up, you zoned out for a little while.”

“How ... long?”

“I dunno, maybe thirty seconds to a minute? Maybe I should put a shirt on...”

“Please ... Not that I don’t like how you look, but...”

“It feels weird and cleavage is distracting?”

“Yeah. Pants too, I might be used to that part, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t distracting!”

“Sure, sure.”

Chris stood and went back over to the bed to find his clothes, some were on the floor, but others were mixed in with the blankets.

Brianna sat in the chair and started taking her shoes off. “Speaking of that part. I got myself some boxer briefs. Hopefully, they’re comfy enough. Not sure what I’m going to do during my next period though, I usually use pads at least a few times, I don’t think they’ll work well with ... huh ... We should probably talk about that stuff, you’re going to need to know a bit more than the overview from sex-ed now.”

Chris looked over his shoulder at her as he picked up his pants. “I’m ... not sure I’m ready to think about that.”

“Yeah ... but who knows when it’ll happen. And there’s more stuff you’ll need to know.”

Chris dropped into sitting on the bed. His boobs bounced significantly, distracting her for a moment. “OK. What do I need to know?”

Brianna was still looking at his cleavage. “First clothes, then talk.” She dragged her gaze away from Chris’ chest and she finished pulling her shoes off.

She got out the package of boxer briefs and opened it, pulled out a pair and put her feet through the legs. She stood to get them all the way up, lifting her skirt as she got them fully on, pulling it up her body. They definitely felt better than panties did, at least for her male equipment. They were more than stretchy enough to accommodate her generous hips and butt, though the waistband was a little loose so they sat a little strangely. She’d gone up a size from her actual waist concerned they would be too tight on her hips.

Chris had finished putting his shirt on and turned back to her. She saw his eyes go straight down to between her legs, she still had her skirt lifted as she was looking at the fit, the bulge in the front didn’t look that different to what Chris had, but she could tell he was having a reaction to it and dropped her skirt, then pulling on it to get the waistband back in the right place.

Chris’s face was a little embarrassed, and he looked a little confused. He spoke, “The men’s underwear makes liking that feel even weirder, and ... I think I like it more as a bulge? Does that make sense?”

“Maybe? I’ve never been that ... visual about attraction, like until today specific body parts did little for me, like seeing you with a hard-on was a turn on but more because of what it means than just seeing a dick. It seems like my male half is way more into that kind of thing.”

“Oh. What do you mean by ‘what it means’?”

“Hmm. I guess that you’re into me ... that you’re enjoying? I don’t think I can explain.” There was an awkward pause where neither of them knew what to say. “Maybe I should ... that is, we should have that talk ... and you should tell me anything you can think of that I’m going to need to know about my ... penis.” It would not be an easy, or comfortable conversation, but she wanted to make sure Chris knew what to expect.

Chris was sitting alone at his dorm room desk, doing calculus homework—on paper. The prof running the course thought computers were fine for written or multiple-choice tests, but inputting mathematics was too much hassle to force onto students. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

Brianna was not in the room—the two had learned early on not to do homework together because they’d invariably end up talking or making out. Right now, something else was distracting him: his huge new boobs.

Looking down at the page meant his bust was taking up a fair bit of the bottom of his vision, enough that he had the paper a little further from him than normal so that he could see the entire sheet. Writing was another thing; as he moved his hand around the sheet, his upper arm pressed against his breast in varying amounts, adding even more unfamiliar sensations to his existence. It didn’t feel bad, just strange and new, but that was enough for it to be distracting.

Not that using his laptop was any better; holding his hands in a comfortable typing position put both his arms against the sides of his breasts and pushed them together.

He adjusted his position slightly and stretched, which also reminded him of his new bust. He felt his shoulders lift his boobs, the tension in his skin shift and the pressure of the bra change; it really changed how the stretch felt with all the extra weight.

He was nearly done with homework. He got back to work on the last problem. His bust blocked his view of the desk just off the bottom of the page and took up a lot of his vision now that he was focused near the end of the page. His sitting position was also leaning forward a bit with his legs apart, the angle of his body meant he was putting pressure on his vulva, which further distracted him with unfamiliar sensation. He pushed through and finished the problem.

Brianna lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. Chris had left a while ago, she had just laid down to relax afterwards. She had ended up just thinking about the change, worrying about what might happen. This was obviously going to have global effects, but she did not know what those might be, so she worried about how it might affect her, her family, her friends and Chris.

Most concretely, the random boner she’d had in the car while on her way to get Chris’ basic bras, right after she’d just had sex with him no less, had her having visions of getting one in class. Trapped in place at the end of a lecture for fear of showing. Going for a run, massive tenting appearing in the front of her tight running shorts on the street.

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the size of her new member, it was huge, at least when hard, soft it was unremarkable. It felt a bit like a cruel joke that Chris had huge boobs, while she had fairly average ones, while they had the opposite endowment levels between their legs. The fact that she strongly preferred big boobs and Chris seemed to like the size of her penis felt made to make them both insecure.

Eventually, she had enough of worry and decided to work on her essay. She rolled to sit up so she could stand, even this motion had to be done a little differently now that she had something between her legs that could be squished. She sighed.

She stood and went to one of the several stacks of books tucked in various parts of the room to get the book she was writing the essay on. The room didn’t have shelves, and she was an avid reader, so she had far too many books with her to keep all of them standing on her desk or somewhere else neat and tidy, so piles. Between textbooks and the rotating selection of novels she brought from home there were over sixty books in the room.

She retrieved the book and slid into her computer chair, automatically beginning to cross her legs as she did so. The motion pulled her testicles up and squished them between her thighs; she stopped before it hurt, but it wasn’t at all comfortable. She re-adjusted. After a few tries she wasn’t sure there was a suitable position that would both preserve her modesty in a shorter skirt and be comfortable with her new male anatomy. The thickness of her thighs meant there wasn’t really anywhere for her new bits to go.

Knee-length or longer skirts it was then, not that she had a lot of short ones, even so, she was annoyed.

She found herself sitting knees apart, in a way that felt wrong to her, and in her mind looked somewhat masculine. She sighed and did her best to ignore her new anatomy and get down to literary criticism.

Hours later her stomach and bladder were letting her know she had other matters that needed attending. She stood walking along the narrow space between her desk and bed towards the door. She opened the door to the side that led to the bathroom that was shared with the neighbouring room and stepped in.

She locked the door to the other dorm room and was about to sit down on the toilet before remembering she had new equipment and other options. She hesitated, she didn’t want to have to clean up if she had aim trouble.

One perk of the building her dorm room was in was proper bathtubs, which was also why there wasn’t much floor space. The length of her room in the half footprint of the bathroom past it was almost entirely taken up by her single bed, what wasn’t was a closet space. So she was facing the tub. Which gave her an idea.

She stepped into the tub. She lifted her skirt and looked at the boxers, she slipped her hand into the fly at the front. It surprised her how much fabric was behind it, her finger had to go past her penis to get around it. She managed to pull her penis out through the fly, which felt very strange and awkward.

She held her penis between her thumb and forefinger and pointed it at the drain. She relaxed the way she was used to and pee went in two directions. She was immediately glad she was standing in the tub, one stream hit the wall beside her and the other was hitting near the top of the side of the tub. She managed to keep from getting any on the floor as the streams shifted as she went and then merged. Once she had only one stream she started trying to hit the drain. She started getting the hang of it as she ran out of pressure. The stream turned to a dribble and stopped. She was glad the shower head was detachable; it made clean-up a lot easier.

Chris had warned her that this could happen, especially after orgasm. He hadn’t said she might have a split stream that could miss the toilet on both sides.

It would likely be awhile before she would be confident enough to just use a toilet standing up.

Chris pulled his bra over his head. It had felt nice to let his skin breathe; the bra offered little support, and it pushed his breasts together. Now that they were sitting more naturally, apart, the feeling of fresh air against the space between them was pleasant. It was also nice to not feel them being compressed, and the relief of the pressure of the band on his chest just below his boobs felt great, like getting his feet out of over-tightened boots after a long day. What wasn’t nice was feeling their full weight pulling on his shoulders and chest again. They were heavy, and even the limited support the cheap bra offered made a difference. It had been quite the feeling when he pulled the band out from his body and his boobs fell out.

He lifted the bra in his hand. He thought about putting it back on but decided against it, at least for now. I’ll try sleeping tonight without it, he thought, laying down ought to deal with most of the weight. He tossed the bra into his laundry basket with his shirt.

Chris pulled his pants and underwear down, he felt his boobs swing as he bent. He straightened and looked down at himself. Boobs: most of what he could see was boobs. He sighed and kicked his pants and underwear the rest of the way off. He still had to get his socks off, but he couldn’t see them, as his boobs hid his feet from him at this angle. A slight lean and he could see one or the other by looking between his boobs. He sat on his bed and bent again, feeling his boobs swing and move; this time they were pushed against his knees and up to his chin. Everything he did, they moved.

He pulled his socks off with his boobs against his neck, and while he was in reach of the floor, he grabbed his underwear. He tossed them with the rest of his dirty clothes. He stood and walked over to his dresser, even more aware of the weight and motion of his bust than he had been all afternoon and evening. At least his boobs had mostly distracted him all day from the strange sensation of having a female reproductive system.

He pulled out a pair of pyjama pants and then hesitated. He wondered if he should start wearing a shirt to bed now that he had boobs. The dorm building had a very finicky fire alarm; if it went off tonight, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d ended up outside in the middle of the night. Which left the question, did he need to have his chest covered?

He didn’t really like the idea of needing to cover up his chest like a woman, but he had boobs, and imagining how people would see him being topless made him even more uncomfortable. So he had to cover up. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t see people not reacting to his bare boobs the same way they’d react to say Brianna’s. That was going to take some getting used to, even constantly aware of the unfamiliar feelings of his boobs as he was for now, he knew he wouldn’t feel a reflex desire to cover his chest if someone walked in the way a woman does, at least for now. He didn’t like the idea of developing that reflex.

He sighed and grabbed a T-shirt.

Putting his pants on was another experience of his boobs jiggling, swaying and pulling on him as he bent and moved. He felt the shirt tight over his bust after putting it on; he knew he was stretching it out, but it wasn’t like his boobs were going anywhere. He’d made sure to grab one of the softest shirts he owned to stop too much sensation and discomfort from rubbing on his nipples. It seemed to work as he walked back to the bed—still too much bounce for him to ever consider not wearing a bra during the day, but it was fine for sleeping.

The little walk reminded him he was six stories up; if the fire alarm went off, he’d be jiggling his way down the stairs, holding his boobs. He shuddered. He didn’t want to wear the bra to bed, it definitely felt good to have it off, to let his skin breathe, to not be squeezed by the band, to let his boobs be uncompressed and not held against each other. Well, it had only happened twice last semester ... it wasn’t likely to happen again. He tried not to think about it as he got into his bed.

He turned out the bedside light, lay on his back and pulled the sheets over himself. It was nice to let some of the skin under the bottom of his bust where they had been held against him all day get out from under them for a bit. He could feel his breasts spread out as they settled on his chest, a little going into his armpits, their weight pushing down on him. It felt very odd; he cupped them and moved them around a little, but the weight felt like a lot pushing on his chest. It didn’t feel suffocating, as he mostly breathed with his stomach, but it got him to roll onto his front.

Here, his breasts were squished by his body. It didn’t hurt, but he also didn’t really like how it felt, and the size of his breasts put his neck and back into an odd curve.

He tried his side, his boobs piled on top of each other, the bottom one bearing the weight of the top. They were pressed against each other again, denying air to the skin of the inner sides of his breasts and along his sternum.

He tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually, he sat up and thought for a bit. He went back over to his dresser and got a clean pair of socks, got back into bed and rolled onto his side. He lifted the top boob through his shirt and shoved the socks rolled together between his boobs. It solved part of his problem, and after a while, he fell asleep.

Brianna pulled up her pyjama pants, the feeling of her penis in them was a little strange. She looked down; the bulge was obvious. They weren’t exactly tight; she was surprised how much her bulge showed in them, at least when she didn’t have an erection, that would show in any pants she wore.

She took a few steps. The sensation of her male bits moving around inside her pants was a little odd. Very different from when she was wearing a skirt with no underwear, much more contact between her junk and the fabric.

She got into bed and rolled over onto her side in her usual position. Top leg bent, bottom leg straight, but she found her balls were pushed around and against her thigh. It didn’t hurt, but it felt weird and made her very aware of her new anatomy.

She rolled onto her back and spread her legs apart. With her testicles settled off to the side, she spread her legs more; that felt silly on its own, and she was still acutely aware of how her penis settled on her scrotum and how her scrotum was settling on the top of her vulva. Having warm soft flesh against that part of her felt very odd, especially since it was part of her.

She tossed and turned, but no matter what she did with nothing else to pay attention to as she tried to relax and sleep she couldn’t help but focus on the still new sensations of her male parts.

She reached down and cupped her new parts with her hand, trying to adjust them so she would feel them less. She wondered if Chris had similar problems with his vagina then realised that his boobs would probably be far, far, more disrupting to him.

Which led to her comparing her bust to his in her mind. Imagining Chris with her boobs, or slightly larger versions to keep them the same proportionately. They didn’t look small, but she couldn’t convince herself that she didn’t like the boobs he actually had much much more. She felt the insecurity she thought she had mostly banished, with help from Chris’s obvious and enduring enthusiasm for her boobs, welling back up. Memories of high school when guys would talk to her nerdy, but very well-endowed friend Mary about things she knew the guy hated. Mary was more than smart enough to see through it and intentionally was as boring as possible, but it irked Brianna that the guy would pretend to listen for an entire lunch period; that didn’t happen to Brianna.

She managed to push the thoughts out of her mind, this wasn’t the time to deal with this, she needed sleep. She rolled, and turned a few more times. Eventually, she got to sleep by just doing her best to ignore the strange sensations.

Chris woke slowly, it felt like there was something very heavy on top of him. He was confused for a moment until he opened his eyes and saw his boobs.

As sleep left him he became more aware of his body, he could feel his usual morning wood straining against the weight of the sheets, but there was another sensation between his legs. A fullness, near, but not in his vagina. There was also a tension in his clit, that at least he could localize. He sat up, the sensations remained. A pressure inside him running from near his vulva back to his butthole, a bit of warmth in the general area of his vulva. He reached down past his balls, leaning back slightly to lift his body to give his hand room, his finger met his clit. He breathed in sharply; it was very sensitive, although he wasn’t turned on.

Memories of sex ed nagged at his brain. Female anatomy, the clitoris extended around the vaginal canal. This must be the female equivalent of morning wood. It felt odd, but now that he was framing it that way he recognized the feelings as part of what he felt when he was aroused the day before.

His phone’s alarm went off, he glanced at it and realized that it had been snoozed. He must have done it half asleep, he had to get moving.

The next morning, she woke before her alarm and felt something strange between her legs and her pyjama pants were pulled tight around her hips. She reached down, and her hand brushed something hard inside her pants.She was wide awake instantly, freaking out before memories of the previous day came back. She had morning wood.

She shifted and stood. It was a strange feeling, the way her new penis was straining against the fabric of her pants to stand straighter. It was a little uncomfortable but also felt kind of nice in an odd way. She paced for a moment waiting for her erection to disappear. It didn’t; instead, the motion of her legs caused the fabric to slide against her dick and meant that it went from an erection without arousal to one with a little arousal.

She sighed. She grabbed the waistband of the pants and pulled them away from her and down. Once they were below her hips and her penis was free she let them drop. The waistband hadn’t stretched quite enough to pass beyond the tip of her dick so it got pulled down and sprung back once released, wiggling up and down for a moment. She was shocked by how heavy it felt doing that.

She wrapped her hand around it: her fingers almost didn’t meet her thumb, it was so thick. She was stunned all of it had gone inside Chris.

For a moment she just stood there holding her cock. It felt good to have an erection. This was the first time she’d had one while she felt calm and had time to just experience what it felt like. The pressure of the engorged flesh inside felt intense and powerful. The skin of her penis was pulled tight, almost uncomfortably so, but the fullness also felt good. She could also feel it pulling at things inside her if she pushed on it with her hand, and a tight feeling somewhere near her vagina. She could get used to morning wood—it felt good just to be hard—but she needed to get going.

She stood there for a few minutes, still holding it, still amazed that it all went inside Chris the previous day. That thought brought a throb, she felt it tense and become more sensitive.

Waiting for it to go down wasn’t working. She was too distracted by how it felt to have a hard on and she couldn’t quite bring herself to try doing something else. She was enjoying the feelings and wanted to keep paying attention to them, a fact that made her feel strange and a little conflicted. It felt masculine and dominant and made her feel that way too. It wasn’t something that matched how she thought of herself, and part of her was afraid of that, uncomfortable, but she didn’t stop.

If waiting wasn’t going to work there was another obvious option. She let her right hand move up and down, gripping the shaft of her dick. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do, but she had given Chris hand jobs, not to completion, but he seemed to enjoy it.

It didn’t feel like as much as she expected, but it still didn’t take long before she felt the strange shift as her body entered male mode. She had been looking at her hand and her penis inside its grip, and she noticed something about how it felt to see it change. She wasn’t sure what, so she stopped just for a moment. She pictured Chris with an erection. She wasn’t into it; when she switched to male mode all interest in penises on others went away, replaced with an odd vacancy.

She was about to start again when it occurred to her that she was going to ejaculate, and standing in the middle of her room wasn’t the best place for that to happen. She needed to shower anyway.

Her pyjama pants had fallen all the way down to the floor by now, so she stepped out of them, it did take using one foot to hold them down while she lifted the other, and letting go of her penis so she could use her arms to help her balance. The movement made her dick wobble and bounce, which continued as she walked to the bathroom and pulled her shirt off. The motion of her hard penis was also new to her, she hadn’t walked with it free of clothing like this before. She was again surprised at how heavy it felt, especially compared to how it felt soft.

As she locked the door into the neighbouring room, she conjured up the imaginary Chris again, but this time a Chris in female mode, playing with his breasts, fingering himself, moaning. She started the shower; it warmed quickly, and she stepped in.

She brought her hand down to her penis, again gripping it, rubbing up and down the shaft, her other hand she brought to her breasts and started playing with them. She could feel her foreskin rubbing the head, which felt better than the movement of her hand, but she kept going as she was. The imaginary Chris was now sucking her dick. She felt the same building urgency she had when having sex with Chris, the need to reach the goal, to get it out, to cum.

She groaned, a sound different from any she had ever made during sex before the change, a sound that—despite her very feminine voice—sounded almost masculine.

She felt her knees get weak, and she was forced to use her left hand to support herself against the wall. She shifted her grip, moving her hand up the shaft so that the top of her hand now came up to the head of her penis and she was gripping around her foreskin. She gasped and groaned in pleasure again, there was much more sensitivity there.

She was getting close, the feeling of pressure inside her, the need, the urge, was getting stronger and stronger. She was gasping, her mouth open, hunched, eyes wide, her hand moving faster and faster, desperate.

Something welled up, she grunted, and came. The grunt morphed into a groan, pulses of pleasure as each spurt of semen left her, shooting onto the wall of the shower, each one making her hips push forward.

She started coming down, still breathing hard, spent.

She was again shocked by how different it was afterwards from what she was used to, the way it felt like she just exploded and was done. The entire thing was so focused down on her penis; once she was going her attention narrowed more and more down onto it as she rubbed. She looked up, saw the mess and pulled the showerhead down to rinse it off.