User:UnbalancedFox/Weekend Alone

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This story contains adult content.
Constructive criticism and in-depth critiques are welcome

It was finally time to put them on.

Even with the privacy of a locked door, it didn't feel totally safe to do this until I had the apartment to myself. A full weekend alone had finally presented itself to me, and I intended to make use of it. I sat in my underwear on the side of my bed, roughly where I had kept the box underneath. The full-length mirror was across from me here, where the sight of myself made me giddy with anticipation, and the box's reflection could be seen just behind my feet. Reaching down, I pulled it out from its hiding spot. I separated the top flaps of the recently-shipped box and they were there, right where I had left them: my first pair of panties and a bra, all for my own and for nobody else to know least for now.

I pulled out the panties with both hands and appreciated the lavender-coloured fabric once again, running my thumbs over the smooth and stretchy material. I let my fingers wander upward to the black lace that trimmed its edges, and could feel every ridge of the flowery pattern make itself known to my touch. I traced over it back-and-forth, already imagining it flush against my hips, and had to stop briefly and blush at myself—even just touching them was already starting to get me aroused, my hardened shaft rubbing up on the bottom side of the box on my lap. That moment only lasted a second though, followed by the ugly thought that always inserted itself when I played with gender presentation.

This is just a sex thing, right? If you were actually another gender, you would want people to know instead of hiding this for yourself. This all just proves that.

Although I couldn't fully quell the doubts, I pushed it aside for now. After all, I already bought the damn things, haven't I? I ought to at least try them once to see how I actually like them. My self-doubts could chew on that until I finished up here.

I moved the box still holding the bra to one side, and the bottoms to the other. I took off my own underwear, leaving my erection pointing upwards as the waistband slipped past. I tried to ignore the slight throbs in its head that demanded my attention as I bent over and brought the panties to my feet. I slid them up first to the crook of my knees, and my breath began to quicken just slightly. I already made it this far, and it wasn't time for second thoughts now.

I lifted the front of the underwear up and over my erection with one hand, and used the other to manage the position of the impatient member underneath. The edges of the leg-holes sat tightly around the tops of my thighs, offering a nice, slim fit that exposed much more than I was used to. However, even though I could fully cover the erection, I was disappointed (and unsurprised) by the large tent that gave itself away. I pulled out my hands, leaving my thumbs on the inside of the lace, and looked in the mirror with a sigh. It looked even more ridiculous at a distance, and I could feel the gap around my groin where the fabric lifted up and remained separated from my skin. It looked like these weren't going to fit me as long as I stayed this excited. Even so, I wanted to keep things going. I took my hands fully free and started to reach for the box with the bra.

The first thing I noticed after that was I could suddenly feel the underwear's soft fabric flat against the front of my crotch. The next thing I noticed, in the mirror and out of the corner of my eye, was the fact that my crotch was flat.

My mind went blank for a moment, before I confronted the obvious. The panties were tented, right? That doesn't make sense. I reached down to touch my shaft beneath the underwear, and found it still there without issue. In fact, the shape of it was still there as well, as though I had never seen its apparent flatness in the mirror. I raised an eyebrow to no one in particular. I couldn't imagine that I was mistaken, because I could feel something had changed. However, everything seemed normal. I would have concluded I was imagining things, but I decided to keep an eye on my own parts this time. I removed my hand again, looking directly in the mirror—and I was flat again.

My hand dashed back into the panties and I found my cock, safely in its place. But I _knew_ something happened this time. Something about pulling my hands out of the panties was causing them to pull flat against me. My head was abuzz with thoughts about the impossibility of the situation and the implications it had, but at a lack of any further conclusions, I chose to slowly pull my hands away from what made sense. My breathing picked up pace even more as I stared directly down, and when the last of my fingertips brushed past the flowery lace, I finally confirmed what I saw: my cock is gone. It was really gone.

I knew what would happen if I reached inside again, so the next step suddenly became crystal-clear to me: what would I feel on the outside? I reached the shaky fingers on my hand where a fully-erect shaft should have been, and shuddered at feeling its absence. Despite the total whirlwind of thoughts I had, this just made one particularly noisy thought force itself to the forefront; the thought I hadn't wanted to entertain because I hoped so much that it might be true, but knew how ridiculous it would be to expect.

I slid my hand down further, and nearly collapsed on my back when I realized what was there. Two ridges...two ridges, and a slight gap between them. And if I pushed in between side-to-side, just a little, I could feel...Holy shit. Unable to hold back my curiosity any longer, I pulled the bottom of the panties aside and felt my new cl... aching balls. All of a sudden I was looking at my regular equipment, once again like nothing had changed. I felt around the area for a few moments before I could accept that things had changed back to normal again. It only took a second for me to figure out what was happening: I need to keep it on, I realized. I can't move the panties and I can't touch underneath, or away... I should have been freaking out over how this was even possible, and to be honest, a little part of me was...but I could only focus my attention on what was going to come next. If I just feel the outside a bit more...

I put everything back in its place, and brought the unexplainable changes back. Now that I had somewhat more of a grasp on what was going on, it occurred to me that there wasn't any transition when my body changed one way or another. Everything just instantly snapped to a new reality, as though the state that things were previously in was simply a hallucination I had dispelled. However the changes occurred though, it didn't change the scary and enticingly real fact: I had a vagina that I couldn't touch.

I got up and went closer to the mirror, my hand on my front again. I moved my fingers back into place and traced everything that I could feel and see. It was all there, as real as it looked. A small bump in front, covered by two small lips that my fingers caressed, following them back to an opening that, once I became fully aware of, started aching to be used. I paused there, moving my fingers rhythmically in a circle as my knees started to tremble. I cursed the fact that I couldn't move things out of place and tried to carefully leave the fabric where it was as I massaged myself in newfound ecstacy.

However, I was soon interrupted by a new burning sensation that quickly arose to my full attention. At first my unfamiliarity with what I was experiencing confused me, but the incredible pleasure could not be mistaken for long. My clit was swelling and peaking in arousal; for the first time with my new pussy, I was getting hard. I raised my hand's position gently forward and stroked the now-obvious little bulge I found. My brain rushed with euphoria at the first touch, and I immediately sat back down out of worry that I would get dizzy and fall. Without thinking, a moan left my mouth that I couldn't have possibly held in. This was happening so quickly, and part of me still couldn't believe it was happening at all, but the sensations I felt as I bent a leg to the side and picked up in speed didn't lie. I rolled my hips in circles as I went further, seemingly out of instinct, as I smelled something new in the air along with the feeling of increasing wetness at my fingertips. I felt warm all over, building up the pressure and speed of my movements, until I started nearly reaching my limit...

And then my leg bumped the box still on the bed, revealing what I had nearly been distracted from entirely.

I still have the bra.

I bolted upright, and despite the pulses radiating from my clit urging me to finish what I started, I stopped and looked at the box. The bra was the same lavender colour with a black flower trim, a nice matching pair along with the bottoms I now wore. Though I hadn't ordered anything else yet, I was planning to find breast forms online to assist me in filling in the C-cups. But, my thoughts eagerly proposed, maybe you don't need any help filling them in now?

My heart was fluttering with excitement. I couldn't tell how much of it was from the fun I just had, or from this new idea, but I knew I had to try it. I grabbed the bra out of the box and put my arms through each strap, my sensitive clit reminding me of its presence with each small shift of my thighs. I reached around back and attempted the hooks, but my eager desperation had me struggling to make them catch together. I slowed down and took a deep breath, and prepared myself for what I was becoming more and more hopeful would happen. The hooks gingerly slid into place—then a weight hung from my chest, and the hallucination that it had ever been flat was gone.

I audibly gasped looking down at myself and at my reflection in the mirror. I had two cute C-cup breasts portruding from my chest, shaped and held up by the bra into full, round figures. As I looked at myself, I found myself starting to think these new features seemed to complement me. Even if the rest of my body was unchanged...something just seemed right putting these pieces together, like I was seeing a fully completed version of me. After a few seconds of admiration, I examined the breasts a bit further; I could touch around the tops and sides at the exposed tissue and not reverse any changes, but I didn't dare try reaching for the rest, knowing the likely result of that being attempted. That meant if I wanted to touch the nipple...

I saw the slight bump in the fabric and reached a thumb and finger to where I now knew my nipple must be. I pinched a little too hard and winced in pain—I'd only had a few moments with these, and still had to get used to how they feel—but then slowed down and held one side of the nipple against my finger, rubbing at varying pressures with my thumb. A new feeling of pleasure sprung forth from each of these little movements, somewhat different to what I had just experienced but similarly cascading out in waves that made it hard to think of anything else. I wanted so badly to take the bra off and to feel my thumb brushing bare against the small, hardening nipple, but I knew I had to resist if I wanted to keep going.

I laid myself fully on the bed and reached my free hand down between my legs, finally satisfying my body's constant and nearly irresistible demands. It wasn't too long before the dual pleasures from my unfamiliar and enthralling body parts steadily grew and brought me near my limit again. My hands started moving in sync, and I found myself thrusting my hips with every forward stroke of my fingers that extended the whole length of my pussy's lips, ending on the opening that still begged for more, begged for me to drive my fingers in and discover what's there, begged to be filled. I bit my lip and tried my hardest to hold back and relieve my frustrations with the pleasure swimming in my head, but I couldn't help constantly feeling a moment away from losing control.

Even so, the sensations kept growing until I felt them teetering on the edge, about to burst. I stopped thrusting as I held my hips in the air, focusing all my attention on my clit, rubbing faster and faster with two fingers, until the feelings clouding my mind reached their peak. A moment passed, and I nearly began to think I had experienced the full extent of my blissful gratification already. Then the next moment the pressure erupted, and I felt myself overcome with warm waves all throughout my body, as though my full being came to know the pure euphoria coursing through me as opposed to it focusing between my legs. I clutched my breast and felt myself momentarily losing track of where I was while the pulses tingled through my limbs and fingertips, making it feel like I was on a soft and flowing velvety cloud.

After a brief period, exactly how long I couldn't tell, I came back to my senses. The full force of the orgasm had faded now, but left a sensitive prickling in its place, a reminder of the incredible experience it followed. I sat myself up with some difficulty, owing to my still-wobbling knees, and took stock of my situation. I still had the changes, that much I knew. With a cautious interest, I slipped my thumb underneath my bra, and found myself holding the loose, empty cup on it. Apparently, whatever strange rules that were in place were still being followed.

I could have easily taken it off at that point, but I looked up at the mirror, seeing my current image, and thought about how it compared to what I saw just a few minutes before. Now that they were gone, it seemed more like they were _missing_ more than ever having been a new addition. I had to admit, I thought the breasts I removed my thumb and felt the flesh present itself and press inside the cup, strangely appearing instantly from thin air before my eyes. I moved my hand forward to give one breast a squeeze as I looked down. Yeah, that was definitely better.

A few hours later, it was well into the night, and I was nearly ready to stop lazing around the computer and finally sleep. My breasts were still sitting on my chest, although I had changed out my bottoms for my regular underwear soon after my experience. After taking the panties off, I had found my shaft limp and (thankfully) without any mess. Was it because it didn't exist when I finished, or maybe because some part of this really was a hallucination? I still wasn't sure, but the weight pulling on my ribs was doing a convincing job telling me it's real.

A little after deciding to keep the bra on, I decided to take a webcam picture, a decision I struggled with but ultimately concluded I needed to do. I obviously didn't want anybody seeing it, but I needed something to tell myself this had really happened in case of a worst outcome. If I somehow lost the pair of seemingly magical garments, or the effects stopped working, I wasn't sure if I wouldn't convince myself down the road that I had imagined it all. The image on my screen showed the reality though; I had boobs, they were real, and dammit, they looked great—even if I had to keep them covered up. I looked at it one last time before shutting the computer down, blushing at myself and how complete it made my body feel.

Okay, so it isn't just a sex thing, this is actually something about my image I enjoy, I finally admitted to myself. But...nothing says it can't be both of those, right?