"W-what?" Zoey asked, thoughts slow after cumming from both genders.
The honour student didn't answer. She rushed from the school and hurried to Soothe the Soul, compelled by pure, inane lust. The doors were locked, a sign said that the owner was away for the morning.
"No, no, come on..." Carmen moved onto Stacy's apartment, praying she was there. Stacy lived in a small block around the corner from Soothe the Soul. It wasn't the nicest place, but it was luxury compared to Carmen's home. She found the door and knocked, then waited in twitchy anticipation. She knocked again after a minute.
"I'm coming!" Stacy said. Even muffled, Carmen recognised her voice. It could speak gibberish and she would know her from the warmth and love that permeated it. Today, though, she hoped to hear it in the throes of bliss.
Stacy opened the door. She was dressed in a nightgown, one stretched taut over her bust, with a robe over her shoulders. Her hair was a mess and her cheeks were a darker red than normal. A cursory sniff of the air brought the scent of sex to Carmen's attention, though she suspected her own activities could be the culprit.
"Carmen? What're..." Not another word. Carmen charged forward and captured her face in her hands, then pulled her close and kissed her with all the passion that had been boiling beneath the surface with Zoey. Half a minute passed before she separated, breathless and with a thick rope of spit between them.
"I can't wait any longer," Carmen panted and embraced the plush woman. Her hands zeroed in on Stacy's rear, then snaked between their bodies to grope her lust-inducing tits. Milk soaked through the gown immediately.
"Neither can I. Come in..."
Zoey stumbled into her house. What just happened? She leaned against the front door, cold against her back, and stared ahead, down the hall or up the stairs, her eyes refused to focus on either. Nothing had changed. Of course it hadn't. She'd only been gone for a few hours, yet she expected the bright walls to have turned grey, to sprout black mould in the corners, to be adorned in cracked pictures of herself. But everything was as it should be in her home of eighteen years.
Outside was another matter. Despite Michelle's disqualification, Zoey hadn't won the race, nor had she even received second or third place. She'd left to lick her wounds, and to unleash her pent up emotions toward Carmen. Her cock still jerked at the memory and her pussy lapped at her balls. Soon after, she'd left the locker room to find a horde of suspicious eyes, with Ms. Blake amongst them.
"What?" She'd asked.
Ms. Blake, accompanied by Mrs. Strep, the head of the track team on paper, approached, "You're hereby removed from the track team for having an unfair advantage. We know you're trans, and identity as a woman, but that doesn't change the fact you have a physical advantage over the other girls. You will not be expelled, though." The principal said everything, backed by the bobble-head of Mrs. Strep. Few of the teachers cared enough to tutor their students, let alone try and encourage them, but she did. To an extent that didn't reach her job security.
Zoey didn't say a word. They were transparent to her, phantoms that blurred the gleeful smirk of a plastic blonde, whose flawless skin hid a twisted, gnarled monstrosity of a human. It was a paradox for every lesbian or bi-sexual at the school, that they despised Gretchen but wanted her body. The same held true for Zoey. She pictured having the spiteful teen pinned between her legs, face a bloody, broken, unrecoverable mess, but, in equal measure, she also saw herself pounding into her fat cunt and cumming in her womb.
Neither was possible. Gretchen was untouchable, worse, she had just retracted the sole protection Zoey was granted. Any step out of line, if she so much as looked at her for longer than a second, she was gone. Zoey could handle that. It had been her intention to avoid the bitch wherever and whenever possible. What she'd done, however, was take away Zoey's only chance at making a name for herself. Her grades were average at best after all.
Now, she slouched against the door of her home. Alone. The place was still, not even the dust moved now, as if frozen by her disbelief. She hadn't shrunk. Perhaps the curse understood how futile the situation was and left her be? At least that was a silver lining. She curled her knees to her chest and hugged them. If nothing else, she couldn't lose this fantastic body that she'd suffered for.
Her days of running as a track star were over. She might get lucky and join a team in college, but it would be subpar, a facility of mediocre equipment, trainers and peers. Running was a respite for her, and a triumph. She could ignore everything and still come out victorious over others. This body wasn't designed for running though, and her drive had dwindled, siphoned off into another desire. She wanted nothing more than to indulge in her new form. If not with Carmen, then someone else.
The door opened and banished her thoughts. She turned her head and saw Megan standing in the entrance, clad in a dress shirt and skirt, the model of an employee if not for her dishevelled appearance. Her face was flushed, makeup hastily reapplied where it had run off, and her skirt was askew.
"What happened?" Megan asked and stepped in, shutting the door as she slumped down beside her sister.
"Nothing. What about you?"
"Got caught fucking the manager. Got fired of course," Megan said and brushed a lock of hair from her face, then turned to face Zoey and noticed her swollen ankle, "Oh shit, what happened? Do not bullshit me."
"Someone tripped me," Zoey sighed and rubbed at the tender bone, still an angry red sheen, "Made me lose the race. And I got kicked off the track team."
"Because you're trans?"
"I'm not trans! I don't fucking know what I am, alright? I've got a huge dick and balls and I've got a pussy, huge tits and a bubble butt. So? What does that make me? Huh?!" She was being hysterical, she knew it, but that didn't stop the words from boiling over the surface. The beast of her insecurities was finally given a voice to the outside, and it howled with mournful glee. Then it stopped and a comforting weight curled over her shoulders as she was tilted toward Megan.
"Shh," Megan stroked her hair, something she hadn't done since they were kids and Zoey had been bullied for the first time.
