School of Hard Knockers

He kept exploring, tracing down his taut tummy, past the waistband of his shorts to confirm what he already suspected. Where there had once been a thoroughly average cock now rested a small hooded button adorning the top of a slit with prominent labial folds.

A pussy.

He was still touching around the edges of his genitals, searching for artificiality or a limit to the illusion, when Jenny pushed back inside, holding a steaming mug. His hand shot back out of his shorts, making him blush.

"Here," she said, handing him the coffee. If she'd noticed he'd been fingering himself, she was nice enough to pretend otherwise. "I didn't know how you liked it, so I put in some creamer."

He drank deeply, feeling the warmth slide down his throat in a way that reminded him of a foggy memory. A dream, perhaps? "Thank you, but...what the fuck is happening to me?"

She put a hand to his forehead. "I'm not sure. You don't have a fever but-"

"No, I mean Why Do I Look Like A Woman?!" he asked, voice cracking as he raised it. He hadn't sounded this squeaky since puberty.

She tilted her head. "Uhh, because you are one? Everyone who goes to Inanna Academy is a woman, silly. You wouldn't have gotten accepted if you weren't."

He balked. "That's circular reasoning! My name is Will."

"Willow Gibbons, I know. Boy are you cranky. I hope you're not like this all year!" She picked up the empty coffee mug and stepped out of the room. "I gotta get to class. I suggest you should too! Your schedule's on the fridge if you've forgotten. Talk later!"

Will sputtered interjections, but she was gone before he could muster much response. His whole world had gone topsy turvy and she was late for class?!

He paced back and forth in his room. Memories came back to him in a steady drip, each illuminating a moment in time. He remembered arriving, the Dean's office, and looking at a huge building. A clinic? It was all still confusing, and he had so many more questions. But the first thing he had to do was get dressed; running around in pajamas was a bad call whatever his gender was. Then he could find his phone, or find A phone, and call someone in to get him.

He ambled over to the cheap dresser and pulled out the drawers, looking for the most modest outfit he could put together. To his dismay, the clothes they had provided him with weren't exactly modest. A tough proposition in the first place given his enormous breasts. Skimpy skirts, spaghetti strapped tops, things that he had absolutely no experience in wearing. The least revealing clothes were meant for cold weather. Jackets, sweatshirts, and tights to wear under thicker plaid skirts.

After much deliberation, he went with a sweatshirt and the only pair of pants he now owned. It looked warm out there, but Will didn't think he could take the eyeballs falling on him if he wore one of the skimpier numbers. Slipping the tank top off, however, revealed an all new problem. The simple act of sliding fabric over his skin felt...strange. He shivered as the silky smooth fabric glided over his nipples. As the process continued until the edge of the garment caught one of his nipples, Will's eyes fluttered.

"Oh!~" he moaned. He'd never moaned out loud before. It felt like someone had cranked up the sensitivity to 11 then broke off the knob. In part to experiment to see how far this sensation went, and partly to take his mind off the confusing mess of a situation he'd found himself in, he ran his fingers around his nipple.

Will caught his own reflection in the mirror. There she was, a buxom woman without her top, staring back at him. She was so hot. His fingers traced down to his pussy, but they went further than just tracing the outline. This time, he curled his middle finger to slide inside himself. He clamped his thighs around his own hand and squealed, unfamiliar voice squeaking. It was indescribable. The many, many times he'd jerked off felt like drab charcoal drawings, where this form of pleasure was in pure colour. He flopped back onto the bed, still entranced by the woman in the mirror and the gorgeous face she made.

"Is that...me?" Will asked. It seemed impossible, totally beyond anything he thought was possible with medical science. But there was the proof in front of him. He was...not a he. Willow. That's the name Jenny used. Spreading her legs, Willow reentered herself. The pleasure returned, but this time she wanted more. Two fingers slid inside, trying to replicate the motions she'd seen in porn so many times. It was awkward, at first, but the bliss form even those first fumbling fingerings was too much to ignore.

Building up a rhythm, Willow fingered herself into a frenzy. Her attention captured by the mirror, watching the woman there open her gorgeous lips in a perfect O and throw her red hair back. To be so casually beautiful without effort or artifice, so pure in that moment of primal joy, it was too much to handle. The buildup toward climax appeared to took no time at all, but by the moisture clinging to her thighs and the bedspread, it might have been half an hour for all she knew. She was soaked by the time the buildup approached its peak, threatening to throw her over and dash her on the rocks of oblivion.

"Oh god," she chanted, "Oh fuck...is this what it's like?" she asked with a breathy voice, her eyes locking onto the woman in the mirror. Is this what it was like to be a woman? The question remained unanswered, and Willow pressed her thumb to the aspect of her anatomy she'd been ignoring. Gently brushing the top of her clit was enough to make her scream and squeeze her hand and fall back onto the bed. Weak jets of transparent fluid licked at her palm as she had her first squirting orgasm, the pleasure unlike anything she'd ever felt with a man's body. It radiated out from her groin in overwhelming waves that captured her, knocking her loose from her moorings and setting her adrift on a sea of unfamiliar sensation. When she came back to the shore of consciousness, it was only after getting pulled back by undertows, aftershocks of her climax that made her frig herself again for a moment.

It was another eternity before Willow, Will, whoever occupied that body, returned to normal thought. The reflection he saw was still that gorgeous redhead, but her workout had giving her forehead and breastbone a sheen of moisture that was somehow even sexier than before.

Will blinked. He had to get himself together! His identity was at stake and couldn't be simply thrown to the wind because he was in a different body. He was still Will...he was pretty sure.

After a shower, a long shower, and slipping on the clothes he'd originally picked out, Will was ready to make his move. First, he had to locate a phone. The campus looked old, it might have a payphone! He rummaged around for his wallet, but he found nothing of the sort. On hook by the door, however, was a purse. Within held a set of identification cards, all with his (new) face on them. They listed his name as Willow, but the rest of the information was legitimate.

If they thought they could gaslight him into believing he was a woman, they'd be surprised when he put out the call and brought in the cops, the army, coast guard, everyone in authority to shut down them and their unethical practices. He founds some coins and some crumpled bills in the purse, surely enough to make a call. If not, he could borrow someone's cell.

He had his hand on the doorknob when someone knocked on the other side.

"Hello? Is this Will's room?"

Will yanked the door open. To his surprise, it was a familiar face. The nurse, the one he'd caught masturbating in the examination room, was standing outside his door. She wore more casual clothes and her hair was in a tight ponytail, but he wasn't likely to forget her face anytime soon.

"I know you! You...you know who I am?" he asked, voice tipping upward at the end in hope.

She nodded, much to his relief. "I remember you. And yes, you're not in a dream or anything. Can I come in?"

Will stepped out of the way, letting the nurse into the common area/kitchen he apparently shared with Jenny. She had started pacing before he'd closed and locked the door behind her.

"Do you know what's going on? What's happening to me?"

She nodded. "My name's Beth. It was...well, it was something else before I came here. I was like you."

Will's blood ran cold. "You're...it happened to you too?"

"Yeah. Inanna Academy has a lot of us around. Some, not all. There are plenty of people who aren't, but many of the people who go here are transformed first. They give us the tattoo to let staff and students know that we're marked," she tilted her head to the side to show off the pink star tattoo, then jerked her head towards his shoulder. Will went to the bathroom and angled himself in the mirror. There, on the back of his neck, was an eight pointed star.

"How did I miss that?!" he shrieked, feeling the skin where the tattoo had been applied. It wasn't red or inflamed, so it must not have happened recently. Then again, his knowledge of biology had been thrown completely out of whack. "What does it mean?"

"Like I said, we're marked. They call us Inanna's Chosen. The Academy is run by some kind of cult that worships an ancient Mesopotamian goddess. I don't understand it fully, but they believe that only trans women can become close to their God."

"But I'm not trans!" Will said, exasperated. Sure he felt a little out of place with his own body before, lingering doubts about who exactly he was. But that was normal for people heading off to college. His education was supposed to be his chance to find himself, but now...

Beth shook her head. "They might not care. I thought I wasn't trans too but, well, as shocking as the transformation was for me at first, I don't hate being Beth." The sound of a door slamming shut down the hallway startled both of them. "I can't stay long. I'm not supposed to be telling you this, or even interacting with you after the procedure beyond checkups to see how the transformation went, but you gotta know a few things before I go. They have the tech to reverse the process. If you really hate it, they can change you back. But only at the end of the semester."

"What am I supposed to do until then?" he asked, throwing up his hands.

"Go along with it. Be Willow, at least for a few months. Attend classes, meet people, blend in, do what's necessary. If you keep your head and don't make too many waves, they'll let you go back to your old life. Without the scholarship, of course, but you can surely find another school that won't transform you."

He hesitated before nodding. Could he? Inanna had been the only place to respond positively to his application. "Are the classes even real?"

"For sure! All the well-connected people in the world know the Academy programs are second to none, even if they don't speak about them in public. Put Inanna on your resume and you're an instant hire. A lot of real smart cookies come out of the Academy." Beth winced before continuing, "Sorry, sounded like a brochure there. Anyways, keep a low profile, do what they expect and you'll be okay. Stray too far out of line and they might expel you or worse, put you in Corrective Measures. If you're expelled, they won't change you back and you'll be stuck as Willow. And if they put you in CM, well, let's just say there won't be much Will left, in both senses of the word."

Neither outcomes sounded good. "Then...I guess I'll try to be Willow for a bit." He blinked, remembering their first encounter, and blushed as he put it in comparison to his own activities in the minutes before his long show. "I have another question. It's about something private."

She nodded solemnly. "It's about the urges, right?" After Will gave a weak nod, she continued. "I get them too as you might have guessed from our previous...yeah. Whatever they used to transformed us messes with our inhibitions and our libidos something fierce. I think the cult sees sex as a form of worship, so their Chosen are given sex drives to match. I've done things I never would have done in my old life with people I can't even begin to count. Everyone here is healthy, so it's all safe whatever you decide to do, but...don't get lost in lust either. Some Chosen get so caught up in their own urges that they get 'elevated' to the status of Priestess. They are revered throughout the Academy, but in the few moments when they aren't fucking someone they're begging to be fucked. Also, be careful of letting people cum inside."

"I can't get pregnant," Will said, then added in a thready voice, "Right?"

Beth's mouth formed a flat line. "Sometimes, sometimes not. Chosen who get knocked up can't be turned back, though. Something about the hormones, I think. Finish them off with your mouth or your hands when you can, unless you want to be waddling around with a bloated belly."

Loud footsteps just outside the door. Beth pressed herself against the wall, fear evident on her face. Will went to the peephole, just in time to watch a very tall woman in a crew cut walk by wearing a dull grey uniform.

"Enforcers," Beth whispered, "Don't get on their bad side. They have complete authority in the Academy and can send you to Corrective Measures for as long as they want." They waited for those heavy footfalls to dissipate. When they faded out of audibility, Beth visibly untensed and pulled off the wall.

"And here I was thinking this was some kind of lovey-dovey commune," Will said.

"I have to go. Been here long enough, someone's going to notice. Remember, you're Willow. I'll try to remain in contact if I can, but if we're not alone, pretend we don't know each other." She opened the door and peered out, looking down both sides of the hall.

"One thing I don't get," Will said, holding the door open for her, "Why didn't they just ask me if I wanted all this?"

Beth gave him a tired smile. "I know, right? That would make this all a lot easier. They say they don't pick who gets chosen by their Goddess. Frankly, I think it's a lot of superstition. I don't know who's actually making the calls, but..." She held out her hands to indicate her body. "I can't deny that they were right on the money with me."

She left, and Will was left with a choice. His original plan, to call in the Feds and bring this place down, sounded less appealing. First, it would mean he wouldn't get his old body back. And second...it meant that people like Beth wouldn't get helped. Despite not being trans himself, he could definitely sympathize with feeling out of place. But the prospect of being Willow for months made him feel strange. Could he make it work?

"Hey!"

His head snapped around, fearing the worst. But instead of a stern Amazonian Enforcer, it was a short bubbly girl with bright green hair done up in pigtails. At the edge of her charming cardigan, he could just make out the point of a pink star.

"Hello," he replied, voice a little shaky, "My name's...Willow. What's yours?"