Phallus Majora

CW: gender swapping; bisexual; gender fuckery; transformation; male submissive; female dominant; penis growth; pegging

'The science is all new, and somewhat experimental,' Doctor Mercer said, his face serious and lined with deep wrinkles. He was in plainclothes, which made Hank feel at ease, but to Sylvia seemed like it might be a disarming technique. Like getting some ice cream before mummy and daddy told you they were going to live in different houses. Or maybe she was being paranoid. 'And, as I'm sure you know, didn't come out of specific fertility work. But... yes. This treatment has a good chance of working.'

'How good of a chance?' Sylvia asked. She was perfectly put-together, having spent the morning nervously getting dressed and re-dressed, and doing her make-up to perfection. A way to distract herself, not to think about the meeting she was currently in. Her nerves were like that. Her hair, a sunny red, was brushed and naturally curled to perfection; her high-waisted jeans paired with a shirt gave the right mix of casual and smart, and the colour coordination of greens and browns favoured her natural palette nicely. Frank looked like he'd picked whatever was first in his wardrobe - a t-shirt and jeans, plus unmatching socks and old shoes.

Nerves manifested differently in them, it seemed.

Mercer smiled. 'Good. It's almost funny, how a revelation in therapy for trans men accidentally developed one of the best fights we have against female infertility. A sort of reproductive-system-reset.' He smiled as his pun on system-reset, but he was the only one.

'Hilarious,' Sylvia said. Hank nudged her, and she nodded. 'Sorry.'

'Now,' Mercer said. 'It's not one-hundred percent assured, as nothing is in medicine. And, as you would be the first in the country to be taking this course of medicine for the side-effects rather than the intended goal, there would be... significant academic interest. We've discussed everything you'd have to sign, and the check-ins that are requested.'

'Weekly,' Sylvia said, nodding. 'Blood tests and physicals, I got it. Injections at the tests, pills in between. Paid monthly.'

Mercer nodded, sitting back in his chair. Hank shifted on the sofa, the leather creaking in the otherwise-silent office. This was a quiet corner of the building, but elsewhere in the private hospital there was a menagerie of hurried medical practices going on.

'Yes, well, like I said. Significant interest from those who see this as the next step in fertility treatment. You're about as ready as you can be,' he said. 'You're happy in your awareness of the side-effects, all of that has been covered with you?'

Hank and Sylvia nodded, slightly sheepish.

'We have all of the literature your people sent us,' Hank said. 'Dr. Adil went through it all with us.'

Mercer nodded. 'Good. No more time to waste then!' he said, with a suddenly-excited slap of the knee. 'Follow me - we'll get you that first injection.'

#

Hank and Sylvia exited the front entrance of Nightingale Fertility, walked across the half-empty car park under a lovely blue sky with wisps of cloud, and get into their car without much of a word. The whole thing was rather anticlimactic, really.

After the injection to the top of her bicep, Sylvia had been handed a pot of pills that would see her through the week - two a day, once with breakfast and once before bed. They were smiled at and offered teas and coffees, and that had been that. Off they went.

When they pulled into their driveway, a ten-minute drive outside of Durham, they still hadn't said a word, until they were in through the doorway of their lovely suburban semi-detached. Hank turned to his wife, an odd glimmer in his eye, and asked - 'Tea?'

Sylvia, in response, just hugged him.

'We're doing the right thing, aren't we?'

Hank kissed her head, pushed the door shut with his foot, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

'Course we are, Syl.' She looked up at him, and Hank could see the fear in her eyes. 'You're so, so brave, doing this for us. For our family.'

She faltered, breaking the eye contact. 'Well, I'm the barren one.'

'Hey,' he said, catching her chin and tilting her head up to face him. 'Don't do that - we're in this together. And, yeah, it's your body - but that's the same in pregnancy, right? And in both, as your loving, incredible husband, it's my job to take care of you.'

That got a smile, even if just a small one. 'Yeah.'

'Right?'

'Right,' Sylvia said, smiling.

He kissed his wife, and she sighed as their lips met. 'Now, I'll repeat my question - tea?'

Sylvia nodded, their bodies parting. As Hank moved through towards the kitchen, she gave his butt a smack and he gave a yelp - playing it up to make her laugh.

She did, but as she watched her gorgeous husband make her some tea, her face fell. She felt this tightness in her chest that she couldn't explain - a weight that felt like it was pulling her inwards, a blackhole in her chest that wanted to swallow her up. It wasn't just sadness, or guilt, or fear, or even excitement. It was all of them. A menagerie of untested things, all spiralling inside her.

Sylvia knew Hank would stand by her no matter what happened - but that didn't stop the daunting question of what exactly was going to happen?

She didn't follow him, and instead kicked off her shoes and turned off, heading to the living room. She'd spent years decorating it the way she wanted, and it wasn't until recently that she'd noticed it was very much a sea-themed room now. Blue walls, pale and calming, with an upscaled driftwood coffee table and holiday pictures on the walls of her and Hank together with family, and on their honeymoon to Hawaii. This room felt zen, pockmarked by sand-colour tat between the collected items and random nothings that she and Hank had accrued over the years. It was a room that told the story of their relationship.

Sylvia sat on the sofa, and felt the war of nerves rage within her. Eventually, Hank entered, a cup of tea in each hand, and passed her one.

'You alright, Syl?'

She nodded. 'No. Not at all. I think I'm about to change, you know?'

Hank was quiet, just listening to her. 'Yeah.'

'I just... we were so excited about this. To finally have a kid - our kid - and without all of the payments for IVF or anything like that.'

'Are you having second thoughts?' Hank asked. She could see the fear on his face, swallowed and respectful, but very much there.

'Oh, no - Hank, I... I want to start a family with you. It's all I want. But, even normal pregnancy can fuck up a womans body, never mind what's going to happen to me.'

'Are you scared I won't love you anymore?' Hank asked. 'Because - and I say this with as much respect and love as I have - but fuck you for that.'

Sylvia recoiled a little. 'What?'

Hank softened - he wasn't angry, but firm. 'How could you think that I care for you so little that this, these changes, whatever, would ever impact my love for you. You are my wife - for better or worse. You can grow a second head, or hair all over your body, or-'

'A penis?' she finished for him.

Hank softened. 'Or that. And I will never love you any less. Understood?'

Sylvia nodded, a little weepy, before her husband dove in and kissed her - one of those sweeping kisses that felt like their souls were touching, their hearts connected as their bodies found each other.

'I need you,' she said. 'Before anything changes - today.'

'Right now?' Hank asked, a little shocked. His wife nodded, and they smiled as they dove into another kiss, right there on the sofa. Sylvia put her tea on the coffee table, and Hank's followed, before she was on him, straddling his lap as they kissed.

Feverish, like they were teenagers again, or fucking for the first time ever. Sylvia felt like she was in heat. She needed her husband to have her - to claim her - before her body was in any way altered. One last hurrah.

And she intended to make it a good one.

'I love you,' she murmured into his neck as she kissed him, feeling the way his strong, heavy body shifted beneath him; each kiss made his chest rumble and his hands move to a new part of her.

Hank groaned as his beautiful wife held his face against hers, kissing him before moving down his body. She slipped down, moving her legs between his and dropping to her knees as his eyes went wide and his hand found her hair.

'Baby' he asked, not used to this kind of attention. Syl didn't answer - just gave him a nod. But, when Hank began to unbuckle his jeans, she slapped his hands away.

'Let me,' she said, popping the buckle open, and leaning in. She pushed the button of his shirt up a little, enough to kiss the soft of his lower belly, and heard the way he groaned at the sensation. 'Let me just... thank you, a little bit.'

'Syl,' Hank said, ready to argue with her. But, then, her hand stroked his inner thigh, over his jeans, and she felt the trapped half-hard length of her husband's meaty six-inches, and his arguments fell away. She kissed a little lower, opening his zip as she went, as her hand massaged the bulge on the inside of his thigh. 'I fucking love you,' he said, as a way to finish the sentence - just as Sylvia's teeth caught on the elastic of his underwear.

'Hips up,' she ordered. He didn't argue lifting his butt enough for her to yank his jeans over his butt. She leaned back, letting him put his legs together as he settled back down, peeling the denim off his feet, leaving him in his underwear and socks from the waist down.

Fuck, she loved the way he looked - masculine, meaty and hairy. Not gross, though - always clean and slightly toned from his rugby-on-the-weekends, but in every way a man. She had always found her husband incredibly handsome, and today was no different.

She dove in, pushing Hank's hands aside, and went in at his boxers; he was wearing the kind with a buttoned-over flap at the front, which to her seemed ready-made for easy access. Which is why she bought him loads of them. She plucked the buttons open, and his cock naturally sort of bounced out - suddenly free.

'Fuck, baby,' Hank groaned as he watched her settle before him, on her knees, as his cock ebbed with his heartbeat up to full length. 'You look so sexy like that.'

'Yeah?' Sylvia asked, taking his length softly in her hand. She pulled, helping his foreskin peel back as he rose to his full length, the pink, shiny head pointing at her face. She smiled, knowing how much he loved this. It made her feel wanted, seeing how hard he got for her.

But she wasn't going to make this a one-and-done - not by any means. She planned to make this last.

So, as she began to stroke him, she reached in, and pulled his balls out from the warmth of his underwear, massaging them in his hands as Hank slowed his breathing. Already, he was having trouble not getting over-excited; it had happened before, and while she'd never made him feel bad for it, he didn't like to 'arrive' too early. Though, worst-case-scenario, he'd last longer the second time.

'Fuck, your cock's so fucking beautiful,' Syl told him, stroking with one hand, massaging with the other. 'How did such a big man, with such a big cock, end up as such a good boy, huh?'

And there it was - the words that, before they were even married, Sylvia had learned sent her husband into a frenzy. They, as a pair, had discovered something in him he'd never found with anyone else - it was part of the reason he'd known she was the one, back in the day.

He groaned, and his hips rolled as his beautiful wife held his balls in one hand, his cock at the base in her other, and took the head of his cock into her hot, wet mouth with a loving moan.

'Mmmmhhhhhm,' she groaned around his shaft as she pushed herself down onto him, tugging at his balls as Hank gasped and gripped the sofa.

'Fuck, baby,' he moaned, and Sylvia smiled and moaned around him. 'Fuck - FUCK!'

And then, right when he was on the edge, Syl backed off. She backed off, letting go of him completely, and just watched as his cock bounced, eeking, dripping pre-cum slightly as he shuddered and moaned. This was a familiar feeling, but it wasn't one Hank had ever really gotten used to. Or, rather, it was a sensation that felt fresh and challenging every time.

Sylvia waited, and watched as Hank's orgasm ebbed away, simmering down from the surface, his breathing deep and shuddering, until that smile returned to her face.

'You ready, baby?' she asked. She wasn't really asking - she was letting him know that he should get ready.

So, as he got a hold of himself, Sylvia stripped before him. Her trousers dropped over her curves, her black underwear contrasting against her pale skin, her shirt dropping off her in a less-than-elegant movement, revealing her bra, and the lovely D-cups hidden beneath. She climbed back onto him, Hank still dressed from the wits up, but her soft skin was so close to his that it made his mind race. Her thighs pressed into his, as her pantie-lad sex rubbed against his weeping cock, so, so desperate for release.

'Are you gonna be a good boy for mummy?' she asked him, a whisper in his ear that made his heart race and his eyes roll.

'Yes,' he said, before realising his mistake. 'Mummy.'

Sylvia smiled. 'Fuck, I love you so much baby,' she said, before reaching back and pulling her panties to the side. 'Now - I'm gonna ride you, and I want you to fill me the fuck up, do you hear me?'

Hank nodded. 'Yes, mummy.'

'I want you to make me feel like a woman,' she said. The implication went unspoke - because son I might not feel like one anymore.

'Mmmfuck,' Hank whimpered as the head of his cock, red and hungry, slid against Sylvia's wetness. Their sexes, so well-acquainted with each other, lined up naturally. Made for each other.

She held his jaw in her hand, and kissed her husband as she sat back, slowly and deliberately impaling herself upon him. They'd done it thousands of times over the years, and yet every single time it felt just as amazing.

'Oh sweet Jesus,' she whimpered as she settled on him, her body meeting his in a warm, soft embrace that felt like home. 'Hank, baby, I love you so much.'

He groaned an 'I love you, too,' as she kissed him, and began to ride. She controlled the pace, enjoying every inch of his length to herself, as she took her time.

Savoured him. She rode him there, on the sofa, as he thankfully and obediently lay beneath her; his hands caressed her in the ways he knew she loved - squeezing her thighs, spanking her butt, pawing her breasts and stroking her back.

'Fuck,' Sylvia whimpered into his chest, before long. 'Fuck, Hank, I'm- FUCK!'

Her orgasm was like the first step into a warm bath - a shock to the muscles, but a good one, making her moan and stretch and flex in strange ways atop her husband as he held her lovingly, until she found herself enough to get back to it.

Sylvia rode herself to two more moaning, sweaty orgasms before Hank finally asked permission.

'May I cum, mummy?' he asked.

'Fuck yes,' she replied, matching his shortness of breath. 'Cum inside me, baby - cum for mummy.'

'Oh, fuck,' he groaned. Sylvia felt his body grow rigid, legs flexing as his hands gripped the cushions of the sofa - and then she felt his pulsating cock inside her flex and flex, his warm cum squirting into her with each pulse.

'Yessss,' she hissed as she felt him fill her, panting atop him as they stayed in place for a moment.

Just... savouring.

#

Hank was busy washing up the plates from dinner, standing by the sink with a sponge in one hand, and the pan in which he'd fried some chicken in his other. Sylvia, belly-full and having enjoyed her time with her husband earlier in the night, watched him from the doorway with a smile on her face.

'I really am lucky to have you,' she said. Hank looked over his shoulder as he put the pan on the drying rack, before grabbing a towel to dry his hands.

'Yeah? You think so?'

She came forwards, pulling him into a quick kiss. 'Especially because of how good you make tea for me.'

He smiled. 'I'll take that as a request?'

She nodded, but didn't let him go - not just yet. 'I just... thank you. For earlier. Made me feel normal.'

'You're normal,' he told her.

'Not for long!'

'Oh, hush,' he said, kissing her forehead. 'We've never been normal-normal anyway. And, my mind is unchanged. Nothing, between us, will be any different. Now - I'll make tea, you get a film up and going.'

Sylvia did as she was told, and went to load up Scream 4 on the TV. Eventually, when Hank joined her and passed her a mug, and they pulled the blanket over themselves to watch the film as the night became dark, everything felt normal.

Well, aside from the growing discomfort in Sylvia's gut - but she knew that those nerves would pass. Hank would help her with that.

She snuggled in a little closer, and fell asleep on his shoulder after the film's first kill.

#

Before his eyes opened into the dim of the earlier-than-normal morning light, Hank was moaning; the pleasure of his wet dream followed him into the waking world, as he felt the warm, wet embrace of his wife's mouth on his cock.

'Oh, baby,' he moaned, rubbing his eyes as he felt her beneath the covers of their marital bed, working her magic on him in ways he'd not felt in the morning light for years. 'Fuck, yesssss...'

The covers over his hips bobbed, as Sylvia made love to her husband with her tongue and lips, moaning and slurping, nestled as she was between thighs. When he came into her mouth, she swallowed it in thick, indulgent gulps as he moaned and writhed on the bed.

Eventually, she let his soft shaft cock fall from her mouth, and kissed her way up his body until they were snuggling in the soft glow of sunrise. It was early - too early for Sylvia to have just woken up and decided on this.

'What... was that?' Hank asked her as they lay there, him panting and her a little red in the face.

'It's started,' she told him.

'How do you mean?'

Sylvia sat up in the bed, the covers falling off her chest in a way that meant Hank couldn't help but stare. She swung her legs out, and stood with her back to the curtains of their bedroom window, naked as the day she was born.

And, there, between her legs, was something... odd.

Where her clit was, and had been reliably for her all the years he'd known her, Hank now saw a small... thing. Not quite a clit, though it could be, however it was too large. Not by any means a penis, though he knew that they did, biologically or developmentally, come from the same place. It was pinkish red, and just stuck out from beneath her labia, an engorged clitoris-like structure. Pointed right at him.

'That's it?' he asked.

'I don't know!' she said, spinning and grabbing her dressing gown. She quickly wrapped it around her and span to face Hank, a look on her face of discomfort. 'It's a change, though, right? Like, what he said?'

'The Doctor?'

'Yeah,' Sylvia said, nodding. 'And... there's something else.'

'Oh?' Hank asked, sitting up in bed. The covers pooled around his waist and Sylvia groaned at the sight of his strong, manly chest and belly.

'I am... so fucking horny, baby.'

Hank nodded, trying to contain himself. 'Oh, uh, okay, so-'