Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 19

Warning: This chapter features especially jiggly tits, Basketball, Homework, Cute waiters, Red Lipstick, Evening dresses, Boob pride, Body language, Not-body language, Dick swaps, Guy-on-girl blowjobs, Facials, Talent swaps, Height Swaps, Toxic masculinity, Simmering Rage, Boring lectures, Sissy Professors, Fancy restaurants, and an assortment of climaxes, most of which are sexual but some of which are also dramatic.

Girlfriend with Testing Device

- A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts -

= Part 19 -- Revenge is a Dish Breast Served Cold! =

By Razmagurk

I was so mad I could hardly focus.

Jack slammed into me as he rushed in and grabbed the ball, the momentum of his pendulous breasts almost knocking me over as he ran past, his body swaying back and forth with each measured step of his sky-high stiletto runners.

He minced down the court and made for our net. I rushed in to stay on him. Jack was good. If you didn't keep on top of him there was no telling what he'd end up doing. I sighed. How had I let that happen?

Gary got to him first though and had him under pressure. Jack tossed it to Mike, who stumbled back from the impact. He jumped to shoot, hopping as high as his 4-inch black leather thigh-highs would let him. I jumped to block, but it was no good. I came up short, the ball just barely grazing the tips of my well-manicured fingers. I kicked in frustration.

Damnit. I shook my head. I just couldn't keep focused. I kept drifting back to yesterday, back to that trip to the mall with Elizabeth. Back to when she changed me.

I remembered screaming. Hell, I wanted to scream now just thinking about it. My heart was full of frustration and confusion and betrayal and I had no way to let it all out. But I was so tired of it. I was so sick of being angry about it. And yet I kept drifting back to it, kept circling that drain. Fuck, my emotions were such a mess.

I looked up in the stands. There was Elizabeth. Ostensibly cheering me on, but with the way she kept staring so intently at passers by, I couldn't help but worry she was up to no good. I could feel a growing pit of anxiety welling up in my gut. I gritted my teeth in frustration. I hated being mad at her. I hated feeling this way.

I remembered standing there in the mall, looking down at my body. There's a sort of unique sensation when you're aware of a body-part swap - it's like you're suddenly acutely cognizant of how different all those unfamiliar nerves feel, like a cool rush of awareness. It's like pins and needles, but that doesn't really do it justice. That was the feeling I had yesterday, but it wasn't in my body. No, it was in my mind, in my heart. What I felt was the pins and needles of the soul, the profound sudden realization that who I was was suddenly very different.

But of course, your brain isn't your arm is it? You can just look down to see who's hands you've ended up with. The brain is a little more subtle. I didn't know where I ended and where someone else began. Everything was so weirdly different now. In so many different ways.

I was a man.

Not physically - though yes, boobs and face aside, I suppose I was a pretty impressive in that regard too - but emotionally, psychologically, spiritually.

Gary passed me the ball. Fuck, I had let myself get distracted again. I almost missed it.

I dribbled my way down the court, my tits bouncing and heaving with each step I took.

Jack got up in front of me, looming over me and blocking my path. Even without the boost his footwear gave him, he had a definite height advantage over even my jock body. I tried to deek away, but I couldn't get outside of his wingspan in time.

Zzzztttt

He pounced in as he tried to snatch the ball away, but he just couldn't reach. Even with the boost his footwear gave him, he was only about eye level with my boobs, and his every attempt at getting in closer was foiled by his fear of getting his eyes poked out by my perky nipples.

I spun out around him and continued down the court. Mike was heading my way now. I tried to pass the ball back down to Gary and managed to get it away just in time for Mike to come trampling down on me, his massive melons smashing into me and sending me teetering over.

I sighed again as I climbed to my feet. My whole life I'd always felt deep down that being a guy - being manly - just wasn't what I was all about. I was always so envious of my sister, hell, I was envious of all the other girls. Even if I never really acted on it. Even if I'd lied to the whole world about it. Even if I'd crafted this illusion that I was normal and happy, I wasn't. I was a girl, deep down where it counted. That had always been an important part of me.

And now it wasn't a part of me at all.

Sure, I could call forth the memory of feeling that way, I still remember wanting to be sexy and flirtatious and feminine and vulnerable. I can still remember wanting to be soft and small. But that's all those feelings were now - memories.

I know logically that there were things I wanted before, when I was a girl, things I wanted more than anything else. I'd have killed for a hot body, I'd have killed for these boobs, I'd have killed to be able to just be sexy and flirty and cute and girly in public. And now? God, I was ashamed, disgusted even, that I had ever felt that way, that I had ever wanted those things. It all just seemed so vulnerable, so weak.

But it didn't end there, no. Feeling that way just made me all the angrier. After all, who the hell was I to look down on me for wanting those things, huh? Was the way I was not who I was? Was I not happy about who I was? Proud of who I was? So where did this disgust come from? What right did I have to tell myself what I could and could not be?

I sighed again in frustration. I felt like I was going crazy. I felt like all the wiring in my brain was all wrong. What the hell had I become?

"Oh my god, what's wrong?" She had asked, struggling to be heard over my screaming, scrambling to reset the device. She was terrified that she had broken me. In a way, she had.

"What's wrong?" I screamed, hot and angry and not caring one bit about all the people watching. "What's wrong!? Elizabeth, I have tits, for shit's sake!" I hunched over, trying to bury my ridiculous fleshy hooters beneath my arms like an embarrassed preteen, suddenly and painfully aware of how exposed I was.

Elizabeth just laughed.

"Elizabeth!" I cried. "What - what have you done to me?"

"Done to you?" She put an indignant hand on one hip. "I fixed you! Your whole gender thing! You should be happy!"

"Happy!? I'd have been happy if you'd -- "I clutched my head. I couldn't believe this. "Elizabeth," I hissed, "you made me think I'm a guy."

"You are a guy, Evan. You're my guy. I'm just making things right."

"You can't just change that big a part of me and act like it's no big deal!"

"Fine, look, whatever. I'll change you back, okay? I was just trying to help."

"No!" I yelled. God help me, I balked at the suggestion. As much as I hated it, I was a guy now, and as a guy I didn't want to turn back. I... Intellectually I knew better, I knew this wasn't who I was, but the me that I was now was horrified of the prospect of being a girl again. "I... I don't know."

I looked around, there was a girl in the front of the crowd pretending not to film all this on her phone. She was cute, I think. Honestly, I was having a hard time telling. There was no pain there, no jealousy, no envy. I didn't begrudge her because she was lucky enough to be born that way and I wasn't. Why would I even want that? All I felt was embarrassment over the way she kept glaring lustily at my tits.

Maybe... maybe this wasn't so bad? This was normal right? How most people felt all the time? Sure, it wasn't me, but did I really want to be me? Hadn't it been so hard? Hadn't I wished at times for it to stop?

But... no. Not like this. I had never dreamed of it ending like this. My body had been what was wrong, not my mind. Elizabeth had 'fixed' the wrong thing.

Oh my god, my body. My face. I had these enormous stripper tits and - oh my god, I had willingly swapped away my perfectly manly pussy for this horribly girly dick. I could feel the blood draining from my face. This was so absolutely fucked up.

"Baby, I..." I wanted to tell her how I felt, I wanted to share with her all the pain I was going through, the roiling emotional storm at the center of my psyche... but I couldn't. I didn't want to burden her with that, I didn't want her to feel that I was weak for not being able to handle it on my own. I drew in a sharp breath. "No, baby. It's fine. I just... can you just do something about my boobs?"

"Aw, what's wrong with your boobs?" she frowned. "I just got them the way I like them."

"Elizabeth, I'm a guy! I don't want these ridiculous hunks of fat hanging off my chest!" I looked around at everyone watching. God, this was all so embarrassing.

"Okay, okay, fine." She grinned "Here, I have a compromise."

She pressed the device against my skin and fired.

Zzzzttttt

There how's that?

I looked down. My boobs were still there. But they seemed... better? Suddenly I wasn't so embarrassed about them. In fact, the more I looked at them the more I realized just how great they were. Amazing even. Wow, I can't believe I didn't see it before. I let them jiggle out as I lowered my arms, squaring out my shoulders and jutting out my chest. Fuck, I may have been a dude, but these were basically the best tits ever and I wanted the whole damn world to know.

Somewhere in the distance a woman let out an embarrassed yelp as she hunched over, suddenly, urgently trying to cover up the cleavage of what - if I'd have been interested in girls - I'd have called a truly magnificent rack.

"How's that?" Elizabeth grinned.

"Not really what I had in mind." I jiggled.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" she laughed. I glowered.

Sure, yeah, it had worked. But at what cost? Another part of me gone? She had just fucked with my brain.

I reached up to adjust my top, hoping to show off maybe a bit more flesh. The pride I felt was like Novocain in my mind, freezing out and distracting from that part of me that had been so upset a moment ago. It was still there, but it was like it wasn't in focus. I couldn't even begin to figure out how I was supposed to feel about what she had just done. I felt like I'd been emotionally compromised, like I couldn't even trust my own thoughts or feelings. How was I supposed to act? How was I supposed to feel? I clenched my fist in frustration and sighed.

"Come on," I said, gripping Elizabeth's hand. "Let's just... let's get out of here." I silently added "before you try to fix anything else."

I spent the whole rest of the day stewing. I was hurt, I think I knew that much. Was this betrayal? Manipulation? I'd had one form of emotional turmoil replaced by another one. I didn't know how to act, how to react. I just... I was angry. I wanted to smash something. It was anger from pain, sharp, keening, desperate. But how could I trust it? How could I trust these emotions? That was the worst part about all this... every bit of me still felt like me. The me that wouldn't be feeling this? That person felt strange and foreign. I couldn't understand them. Why wouldn't they be mad?

I wanted to talk to Elizabeth about this, but I just couldn't. So I did what all guys do and I swallowed my feelings. I took it on the cheek, shaking my head and pretending that everything was alright, even as my heart bled all over the floor. I didn't know how else to behave. I pretended that everything was fine, hating her for not being able to read my mind, hating her for not being so in tuned with my soul that she could see the pain I was holding inside.

That night we had sex, because, well, despite everything we were both still so damn horny. But as she pounded into me that's all it was -- sex. It was animal and raw and without romance. I missed how things used to be. It wasn't even all Elizabeth's fault. I was being distant and all the while hating myself for being so, even when times like this were when intimacy was the most important.

And now here I was the next day, still angry, still confused. Taking my frustrations out on my friends on the court. I won't say that sports feel any better as a guy than as a girl, but being able to move confidently and powerfully, well, it helped me get my mind of things at least.

I caught the ball. I was completely open, but there was a long way between me and the net and the other team was repositioning. For once in my career, the score was surprisingly even - we were only down by one point. I had something of a losing streak going on. I had always enjoyed basketball, but not enough that I was ever actually any good at it, and I was the only one here who hadn't played in high school. I was more often than not a burden to whoever's team I ended up on. We had fun, but we still tended to lose.

Today though, things were looking different. The score was low and everyone seemed to be having a hard time moving about. I didn't know what it was, but I guess I wasn't the only one distracted. Today, I could see my chance, if I could get one more basket we'd win.

Of course, that was easier said than done. I dribbled my way down towards the net, my friends rushing to get in front of me. Normally I'd hang back, try to get the ball to someone else. Today, I pushed forward.

Zzzzttttt

Zzzzttttt

Jack had gotten in front of me, trying to block me long enough to stall out the clock, but my long years of experience gave me the edge I needed to take him apart - I faked him out, making him think I was going left then spinning right. It was a stupid trick, but anyone with any real experience would have seen it coming a mile away.

Mike pushed up into my grill as I closed In, the last thing standing between me and the net. He grinned, but he seemed unsure about what he should be doing. I took advantage of his confusion to push past him and to make my run for the net.

I leapt, ball in hand, ready to drive the thing into the net and close the game out with style.

I sighed. I didn't like feeling this way. I loved Elizabeth more than anything, I hated being mad at her, but ever since she got the device, she's been... I don't know, distant? Uncaring? I haven't felt very loved, you know?

"'I'm sorry, Evan." She said, giving me a sympathetic frown as she handed me a bottle of water.

"Huh?"

"That you lost. I tried to, err, even things out, if you catch my drift." She gestured to her creamy white tits; it was warm enough out that she had them tantalizingly displayed through a thin little white summer dress. "But I don't think it did much good. Still, it made me real glad you guys played shirts versus skins." She smiled.

"It's fine." I said, shaking my head. Something told me I didn't really want to know what she was talking about. The game was nothing personal, even if I'd come up painfully short on that last jump. Still, she was right that it stung a little more than I'd like - I'm not normally so competitive.

"Are you sure? You looked like you were not having a good time out there."

I frowned. I hadn't intended to be so obvious.

"You seemed like you were enjoying yourself at least." I forced a grin and giggled, trying to change the subject.

"Oh my god you have no idea." She laughed. "Don't worry though, I put everyone back the way I found them, just the way you like." She gave me a sly wink.

I smiled at her despite myself. Even as upset with her as I was, she could still be so impossibly cute.

"Baby..." I took a deep breath. "We need to talk."

"Talk?"

"About all this." I gestured down at my body. "And that," I gestured to the device. "About us. We need to talk about us"

"Oh my god, Evan." Elizabeth's smile fell. "Sometimes I feel like that's all you ever want to do. I've been good!"

"It's important!"

"Fine, fine. We'll talk, but we don't have time right now. We've got to get to class."

"Class? All my classes were in the morning."

"My classes, obviously."

"Baby," I raised my eyebrow, "you don't have any classes."

"What?"

"You're not even a student here. You're just taking a week off from running the club. Remember?"

"Oh. Oh right, fuck. God damnit. Okay, see, clearly that's something that we need to get sorted out before class starts. Come on, just... follow me."

We started walking, I was now also upset that - once again - I had no idea what was going on.

At least it was a nice day out. I undid the top button of my blouse as we went. It was warm and it felt good to get some air down my cleavage, especially after working up a good sweat like that. Plus, it meant I could show off my tits a bit, which was always a plus.

"Oh my god." said Elizabeth as we rounded the philosophy building and got a good look at the central quad.

Evidently, I wasn't the only one taking advantage of the good weather to show off. The rolling lawn which formed the core of the campus was overrun with a cavalcade of juicy shirtless boys hanging out, playing pickup sports, and just generally trying to get away from their studies. Appreciative looking girls were gathering along the sidelines, enjoying the show. And who could blame them? Some of the abs on display were entirely too hypnotic.

I was so distracted in fact that I completely failed to notice the girl walking straight into me, her eyes also glued on the deliciously firm ass of one of the school's rugby players. I tried to keep my balance but the skirt I was wearing just didn't have enough give. We went down hard, our tits smashing together as we crashed to the ground, my muscular butt pillowing my fall as I hit the ground hard.

"Oh my god," said the girl, her sultry voice feminine and familiar, "I'm so sorry. I was - Evan?"

"Oh my god," laughed Elizabeth "Ell- Slut?"

"Elizabeth!" Slut cried, looking up at her friend while trying and failing to look cool as untangled herself from me and rose to her feet. She adjusted her collar then held out a hand to help me up. From the angle I was at I could see just the hint of her plug poking out from her ass, but I was too polite to comment.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" asked the girl Slut had been walking with. She was wearing a plaid men's collared shirt which hung loose on her, draping around her hips in such a way as to almost hiding the fact that somewhere above her sky-high legs was an ass-accentuating pair of denim booty shorts.

The girl was holding hands with what looked to be one of the school's football players, who's 5'6" of solid curves would be intimidating if not for her friendly smile. Her white t-shirt hung tight at her incredible chest but dangling down loose around the hips, drawing focus to a pair of jeans which accentuated her muscular bubble butt.

"Wait, hold on," said Elizabeth, "Sam?"

The football player blinked her eyes in surprise then nodded.

"Oh!" said Slut, surprised. "I didn't know you knew each other."

"Uh..." said Sam, her brow furrowing, "I'm sorry -- I don't quite remember..."

"No," said Elizabeth, making a clicking sound with her tongue "I suppose you wouldn't, would you?"

"Evan, Elizabeth," said Slut, gesturing to the other couple, "this is Sam and Emma. I met Emma at cheer practice yesterday and we really hit it off." The two of them laughed. "Sam is her boyfriend. She's on the football team, so Emma was in the stands cheering her on."

Elizabeth put on one of her fake smiles.

"Sam, Emma," Slut continued, almost giddy, "these are Elizabeth and Evan. Elizabeth's been my best friend since like, forever. I don't know where I'd be right now if it wasn't for her. Evan's her boyfriend and is also totally amazing and like, the nicest guy I know. Remember, I was telling you about them earlier?"