School of Hard Knockers

This story features some INVOLUNTARY aspects so if you don't like seeing people turned into hot girls against their will, Avert Ye Eyes. I'm totally writing the protag like an egg and forcefemming is hot but I know some folks aren't into that so, yeah, heads up. Everyone in this story is 18+ of course.

Enjoy!

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The first time Will had seen the name Inanna Academy, it had been inscribed in elegant calligraphy. He'd pulled the pitch black envelope out of his family's mailbox after work, casting it onto his desk next to the other college rejection letters. He hadn't even remembered applying to any place with that name, and had already forgotten it by the time he'd showered, got something to eat, and slumped into his desk chair for a night of streaming. Only after the first episode of his favourite show had he remembered the letter. He gave it a weary glance, like it was a text from an ex.

Long days at the local Coffee Condor to save up for school, only to get the cold shoulder from everywhere he had applied, had given him an aversion to thinking about his future. The last thing he wanted to do was get stuck in his deadend hometown, but his marks hadn't been fabulous. Best he could hope for at this point would be maybe a trade school, but spending 50 years doing the same thing over and over again didn't reach out and grab him either. The letter sat on his desk while he aimlessly scrolled through his feeds, trying to distract himself. Finally, just before he shut off his lights for the night, he peeled open the envelope, bracing for another blow to his self-esteem.

But to his confusion and surprise, the letter within had told him he'd been accepted into a general studies program...with a full scholarship! He knew it was too good to be true, so he'd immediately googled the name of the institution for more details.

Nothing.

No websites. No testimonials. No professor ratings. A few scattered forum posts asking similar questions to the ones he had. 'Anyone heard of this place?' one had asked to no response. He checked the satellite map of the return address on the envelope. A distorted green blob, deep in the heart of Appalachia. In a perpetually connected world, it seemed like this place didn't exist.

It was all too surreal. Maybe it was a mistake? A prank of some kind? He stared at the letter, running fingers over his full name written in a different colour to the rest of the text. Someone had cared enough to make this letter. He didn't know anyone who hated him enough to spend the time required to fuck with him like this. Maybe they'd seen something they liked in him? Maybe he was a charity case, like a tax write off thing if they take enough hopeless students.

He still had a month before classes started. And, if the letter was genuine, he wouldn't have to work his ass off anymore. Will sketched out a road trip itinerary on the online mapping program and brainstormed a way to quickly end his employment. He was going to find out for himself.

***

"I assume you have a hundred questions," the woman behind the imperious desk said. Her curly brown hair and wide rim glasses gave her the look of a dower librarian from the 50s, but her eyes were kind and her smile genuine, giving her more of a 'favoured aunt' air about her. She held out a hand toward the seat on the opposite side of the desk, which Will settled down into. "My name is Margaret Kleiner, and I'm the head of admissions here at the Academy."

The window behind her looked down at a wide quad that sat at the centre of a campus straight out of the 19th century. He'd nearly missed his appointment because of the architectural marvels on display on campus in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.

"You're not wrong. I looked online and wasn't able to find anything on this place. And how did you even find me? I didn't apply here."

She smiled, light wrinkles appearing around her eyes. "I'm glad to hear that you weren't able to find anything about us. Our institution pays a lot of money to keep out of sight. And as for how we found you, your file came up in our regular search through applications of our sister institutions. Sometimes they even send us cases they think will be a suitable match for us. You were one such file." She opened a manilla folder in front of her, dozens of loose pages piled within. That looked far more than just a copy of his application. Just what kind of information did these people have about him?

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but," he shifted in the seat, "What...exactly made me a good candidate?"

"Average grades, but huge potential. Inanna's heartfelt promise is that everyone has the capacity to truly excel. Personally, I think you'll bloom here. Our general program gives you a good range of academic experiences, then you can find one that calls to you and you specialize from there."

Again, his suspicions got the better of him. "And this is all paid for, right?"

She nodded. "We're a very selective institution. Those who can afford it pay the full price do, but we hold many of our slots every semester for cases such as yourself. I assume you can live on campus for the length of your degree program?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, then visibly reeled in his excitement behind a Poker Face facade, "I mean, yes, sure. If it works for me I mean. But...I'm not ready to make a decision yet. Can I get some more information? Like, a tour? I don't want to rush into anything."

"Of course! I will insist, however, on your first step being the infirmary."

"I'm not sick," he said, reflexively. He'd never liked doctors.

She held out her hands, palms out. "It's a precaution. Our isolated position has its advantages, but it can leave us vulnerable to outside infections. What with flu season coming up again, you understand, right? You'll get a full tour of the campus afterward, but I must insist."

He bit his lip. Getting a physical sprung on him wasn't what he had in mind, but he wasn't about to get back onto the bus and back to his miserable job. After some more preliminary information, she escorted him out of the building, where she pointed toward the building directly across the quad from the administration tower. He thanked her and headed out, taking his time on his walk to further enjoy the sights.

There weren't many students around. A few here and there, likely summer students. But he enjoyed every one of them. As a red blooded guy, he enjoyed the sight of the opposite sex. And each and every person he saw on his way was an absolute stunner. One was a blonde bombshell with hips to die for, the next was a redheaded tomboy with a fantastic ass. He usually wasn't this much of a pig, but it was like they had pulled every woman out of his active imagination. He kept himself from leering, barely, and hid his glances by taking in more details of his destination.

It looked like the most modern building on campus, though that only meant it originated in the depths of the cold war. A five story tall brutalist cube, windowless and monolithic. It didn't look like any clinic he'd ever seen before. If this was a school, maybe they had a medical program? That would explain the size, but still, it looked rather intimidating for a medical care facility.

He pushed his way past a pair of double doors and into a wide lobby area. A woman with an old-fashioned hairstyle sat behind a horseshoe shaped reception desk, looked up at him over a pair of bifocals. "About time. Will Gibbons, I presume?"

"Yeah. Am I late?" he asked. It hadn't taken him that long to cross the quad, he thought.

"You've been on campus for over two hours now, spreading who knows what. Report to the third floor, Dr. Mackenzie's office." She returned to whatever work she'd been doing before he entered. A little startled by her abruptness, he followed her instructions, taking an elevator to the floor marked with a 3 on the button panel.

The elevator doors opened on a confusing maze of hallways that, after some roaming, lead him to a room labelled. "Dr. Mackenzie - Prep". A strange noise came from the other side of the door. Almost like someone was tapping their hand on something. He entered.

And saw a woman fingering herself on an examination bed. Her head lolled backward, lost in the pleasure of the act. She hadn't noticed Will's entrance. Gorgeous platinum blonde hair spilled down her back, much longer than he thought was regulation for healthcare providers. She wore pink scrubs, the top hiked up over her large breasts and the pants of which dangled around her ankles. The tapping sound he had heard was actually the bed itself, making steady creaking noises in rhythm with her vigorous frigging. After maybe a second too long, he closed the door and tried knocking.

"Hello? Is this Dr. Mackenzie's office?" he asked rhetorically, staring at the sign that said as much. The noise stopped, followed by the frantic rustle of clothing being pulled up.

"Just a minute!" a peppy voice called. After some muffled cursing, the door opened on the woman's blushing face. "Aha! Y-you must be the next patient!"

She had gorgeous blonde hair, though it was rumpled and her bangs clung to her forehead from sweat. She smelled, well, like sex, and he did his best to keep a straight face. He'd been caught 'at work' before but never actually At Work.

"Name's Will. Are you Dr. Mackenzie?"

She shook her head. "No no no, I'm a...well, I was just checking his supplies. Gotta make sure you have tongue depressors!"

Through sheer force of will, he kept another comment about "things that depress tongues" to himself. Instead, he smiled and nodded. "Good thinking. Could you let the Doc know I'm ready to see them?"

She flashed a nervous smile before slipping between him and the door, headed off deeper into the labyrinth of rooms. As she turned, he saw she had a striking tattoo on the back of her neck: a pink eight pointed star. It caught the light in a weird way that made it seem it was glowing.

Will shook off the optical illusion and let the door close behind him. The room looked like every examination room he'd ever been in in his life. Uncomfortable bed with a thin paper sheet over it, a desk featuring several dozen drawers with a computer on the top currently set to a screensaver. He sat up on the bed slightly to the left of the little dark spot the nurse had left and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. A tall, well built man in a white labcoat stepped through the door as if in a rush. He yanked a clipboard from one of the cubbies and flipped through it.

"My apologies," he said, running a hand through salt and pepper hair, "I was delayed by another matter. You're Will? Right?"

Will nodded. "This'll be just a check-up, right? Nothing invasive?"

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Could you strip out of your clothes, down to your underwear please," the doctor instructed, head still buried in the clipboard's contents. Will hated doctors for a couple reasons, but one of them was things like this. He hated seeing his body when he was by himself. Showing it off to another person was even less appealing. Reluctantly, he started opening the buttons on his shirt.

What followed was a frustrating, humiliating, and stressful ordeal: a routine physical. Every part of him was probed, poked, and palpated, much to his chagrin. He also took samples of just about everything, save for semen, which Will was half expecting at this point. This wasn't exactly what he'd signed up for when heading to a college campus, but if this is what he'd have to do to get a full scholarship, it was a price he was willing to pay.

Finally, the doctor placed the clipboard on his desk and took off his gloves. "I think that's all I need to see for now. As far as I can tell, you're in the picture of health."

"That's good to hear," Will said, and reached for his clothes. He felt a prick of pain against his shoulder, and turned to see Doctor Mackenzie withdrawing a tiny syringe from his skin. "What the fuck? I thought you were done poking me?"

The doctor smiled. "It's a sedative. It'll take effect shortly. Don't worry, we've made all the arrangements. You'll be back on your feet just in time for classes to start."

Will shot up off the bed, but already the blanket of fatigue was settling in over him. He took a few rubbery steps over to the door, but his limbs failed him. The doctor caught him on his way to the floor and eased him down.

"You...you fuckin'..." Will managed before his lips turned uncooperative. Drool spilled out onto his chest. He was only barely conscious of being pulled into a cart with wheels. A gurney, that's what it was called right? He couldn't think straight, the world around him in blurry watercolours as he tried to figure out what was happening. He was in a much larger room now. At least ten people, maybe more, rushed to and fro in pink scrubs like the nurse, performing all kinds of tasks. Some washed their hands and upper arms in the sink, while others pulled out large, complicated machinery from hidden panels in the walls. His movements were restrained, kept in place by straps on his arms, legs, and lower chest.

"Let's try EX-19," one of the voices said, its words slow and muffled to his addled brain, "The lab seems to think it has gotten the spontaneous climax part out of it but kept the enhanced sensitivity."

"Is that wise?" another voice asked, "We just got this patient in today. We have no idea how she'll react to the new formula."

"Only one way to find out," the first voice said, and pulled out a large, glowing pink canister. Another jab sent him further into sleep, and his last conscious thought was that the pink in the container was the same shade as their scrubs, and identical to the colour of the lewd nurse's star tattoo.

Then, black.

***

He floated in nothingness. Sheer void stretched in every direction from his body, which hung suspended like a lone ornament, twisting in a nonexistent breeze.

A spark of light flashed to life in the distance. As it grew closer, it grew brighter. His eyes, which did not exist, blinked. Detail resolved itself. It was no mere ember of illumination. It was a person. A woman with glorious black hair and skin like clay fresh from the kiln approached him. Wings the colour of polished ivory exploded from her back, and she appeared to sail on them towards his disembodied consciousness. His vision traced down her gorgeous, naked body, past her enormous breasts and wide hips to between her legs, where the most exquisite penis he'd ever seen hung limp. She was perfect.

"Do you see?" she asked. He could only nod, though he didn't know fully what she meant. He opened his mouth to ask, but her cock slid effortlessly inside. It tasted like heaven, and all his senses flashed into being just to sample her divinity. She looked down at him, at once towering above like some ancient monolith and at the same time being on the same level as him. He accepted her gift into him, his mouth unpracticed at pleasuring any form, let alone something so magnificent.

He suckled on her shaft, feeling it throb with ichor, the blood of gods, and stiffen under his efforts. Rewarding his efforts, ambrosia spilled forth and down his throat, the liquid glowing bright enough to be seen through his body which came into being for Her purposes alone. It filled his whole form, warming him. Changing him.

"Accept my gift," the Goddess said. She thrust herself back and forth, almost a leisurely pace, yet still she gushed her prodigious flow of precum. He could feel his own cock manifest just long enough to shoot its own load into nothingness, then shrink into an ultrasensitive nub. His whole proportions became elastic, expanding in some places and reducing in others. All the focus of Will's mind, however, was on the glorious cock in his mouth, which he slurped and licked and tried desperately to please.

His efforts were not in vain. The Goddess stiffened, thrusting in a brief burst of staccato movements before erupting in a throat filling gush of pure bliss. He gulped her cum down, treating it like the divine present it was. He wanted to thank her, to beg her forgiveness for not being worthy of such an offering. But she simply smiled and stroked his hair, now longer than it had ever been.

"You'll have your chance to thank me," she said, her face disappearing into the same light as before, "But that's for later. Wake up, child. Wake up, for the first time in your life."

***

Will's eyes sprung open, then shut on reflex. Searing sunlight rendered whatever space he was in debilitatingly bright. He covered his eyes and rolled onto his side, using his back to block the source of the light. His whole body ached, and though he knew he just finished sleeping for god only knew how long, he was still dead tired.

"Are you still in bed?" a voice asked. His head pounded. Will couldn't locate it, or recognise it, all he knew is that it was too loud.

"Leave me alone," he croaked. His voice sounded terrible, like he had a throat infection or something. What had happened to him? Where was he?

The voice's owner didn't take the hint. "You got class in an hour, dummy. You're gonna be late for your first day!"

"First...day?" he asked. That didn't sound right. He slowly, carefully rose out of bed. Something tickled against his bare shoulders as he sat up. He peeked out one eye. Hair. There was...hair on his shoulders.

Hair from his head.

Will's had shot up to grasp a handful of dirty blond hair. He tugged at it, thinking a mop or a wig had fallen on him. The hair was attached to his scalp. Real.

"Are you okay, honey?" the voice asked. He turned, finally seeing the source of the voice.

She was a heavyset woman, plump and short with a cheerful cherubic face and purple hair which had just started to fade to black at the roots. Her chest was incredible, and on some level she resembled a kind of primordial fertility idol. She even had the tummy for it, but even dazed as he was, he knew better than to speculate on if someone was actually pregnant.

"I...who are you?" Will asked. His voice was squeaky, almost inaudible. His throat was so dry.

She tapped her forefinger to her chin. "I'm Jenny! Remember, we got paired off together? Oh dear...you don't look so good. Maybe you'll feel better after some coffee? I can get some from the kitchen." Jenny rushed off out of the room, leaving Will alone for the moment. With great effort and strain, he sat up.

He was in bed in a tiny, unfamiliar room. It looked like something out of an industrial motel. Aside from the bed, there was a desk, an office chair, and a dresser, all of which looked brand new if somewhat cheap. Gaudy pink wallpaper covered the walls, and a flimsy mirror hung off the back of the door. In his sitting up position, he could barely see his reflection and just caught the corner of his face.

"What the fuck?!" he cried, falling out of bed. Shambling back to his knees and crawling over to the door, he confirmed what his mind refused to accept.

The face in the mirror was not his own.

Hazel eyes stared back, though he knew for a fact his were brown. Long copper hair matted on one side where he'd slept on it, but despite that looked gorgeous. His teeth were model white and his lips looked beestung. His eyes drifted southward, and he discovered the source of that crushing weight on his chest.

Breasts. Not just anything gynecomastia could provide, these were gigantic. He had no idea how to measure breast size, not really, but they took effort to lift up in his hands and he couldn't enclose them with his hand. Thick nipples stiffened at his touch. Something about the jolts of sensation made him shiver, luxuriating in an intoxicating full body response. That had never been a problem before. Sex, eroticism, had always been held at arms length. Fun but unfamiliar, enjoyable in short bursts (so to speak) but not something to be savoured. This was...this was altogether different.