"You wanted to dress like a whore, so here you go. When you're done, I'm going to leave you on a street corner, and you're not coming home until you make $4,000 giving men head. Did you hear me?!"

My mother’s voice was sharp, slicing through the air like a blade. I stood there, naked, in the cramped dressing room of a women’s clothing store, staring at the pile of clothes she’d thrown at me. My hands trembled as I reached for the pink spandex panties, the fabric slick and alien against my skin. This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to be this.

But let me back up.

It started with an argument. I’d been pushing her buttons for weeks, testing her patience like I always did. She’d caught me wearing her clothes the night before—her black lace bra, her satin slip. I thought I’d been careful, but she’d come home early from her book club, and there I was, standing in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric over my skin.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she’d hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

"I—I was just—"

"Just what? Playing dress-up? What’s wrong with you?"

I’d stammered some excuse, something about curiosity, but she wasn’t buying it. Her eyes had narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she was going to slap me. Instead, she’d turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

I should’ve known she wasn’t done with me.

The next morning, she’d woken me up early, her voice cold and commanding. "Get dressed. We’re going out."

I’d obeyed, too groggy to argue. We’d driven in silence, the tension in the car so thick I could barely breathe. When she pulled into the parking lot of a women’s clothing store, I’d felt a sinking sensation in my gut.

"Mom, what are we doing here?" I’d asked, my voice trembling.

"You’ll see," she’d said, her tone clipped.

Inside the store, she’d marched up to the saleswoman and handed her a list. The woman had nodded, disappearing into the racks, and returned moments later with a stack of clothes. My mother had shoved them into my arms and pointed toward the dressing room.

"Go," she’d ordered.

I’d hesitated, looking down at the clothes in my hands. The pink panties, the padded bra, the black leather miniskirt—it was all so... feminine.

"Mom, I—"

"Now."

Her voice was like a whip, and I’d stumbled into the dressing room, my heart pounding in my chest.

And now here I was, standing naked, staring at the clothes like they were a death sentence. I pulled on the panties first, the fabric clinging to me in a way that felt both wrong and strangely right. The bra was next, the padded cups flattening my chest in a way that made me feel exposed and vulnerable. The garter belt was a nightmare to figure out, but I managed to get it on, snapping the tan nylons into place. The black leather miniskirt was tight, hugging my hips in a way that made me feel... sexy. And the burgundy crop top was the final touch, leaving my midriff bare and exposed.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me. My reflection looked like a stranger—a woman, or at least someone trying to be one.

"Are you done yet?" my mother’s voice snapped from outside the door.

I swallowed hard, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "Y-yes," I whispered.

She pushed the door open, her eyes scanning my outfit with a look of cold satisfaction. "Good," she said. "Now come on."

She grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the store and back to the car. I stumbled after her, my legs unsteady in the unfamiliar heels she’d handed me. The drive was silent, the only sound the hum of the engine and the pounding of my heart.

When she pulled over on a seedy street corner, my stomach dropped.

"Mom, please—"

"Out," she said, her voice hard.

I hesitated, but she reached across me, opening the door and shoving me out onto the sidewalk. The cold night air hit me like a slap, and I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.

"Mom, please, don’t do this—"

"You wanted to dress like a whore," she said, her voice cold and unyielding. "So here’s your chance. Don’t come home until you’ve made $4,000. And if you try to run, I’ll find you."

And with that, she drove off, leaving me standing there, exposed and alone.

I stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, my mind racing. What do I do? Where do I go? I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t call for help. I was trapped, dressed like a... like a...

My thoughts were cut off by the sound of a car pulling up beside me. I turned, my heart in my throat, to see a man leaning out of the window, his eyes raking over me with a hungry gaze.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice slick and oily. "How much for a good time?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. My mind was blank, my body numb.

"Come on," he said, patting the seat beside him. "I’ll make it worth your while."

I hesitated, my stomach churning. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to be here. But what choice did I have?

Slowly, I walked toward the car, my legs shaking with every step...

The man reached out, his hand brushing against my arm. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of fear and something else I couldn’t quite place.

His grin widened as he leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "So, you gonna suck me good, sweetheart?"

My throat tightened, and I felt like I might throw up. But I nodded, my head moving almost involuntarily.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made my skin crawl. "Good girl," he said, his hand moving to the back of my head, pushing me toward his lap.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the world, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. But the feel of his hand on me, the sound of his breathing, the smell of his cologne—it was all too real.

And as I leaned in, my lips trembling, I couldn’t help but think... This is what you wanted, isn’t it?

The man’s fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head down with a force that made me gasp. My lips brushed against the tip of his cock, the salty taste making me gag. But he didn’t care. He just kept pushing, shoving his length into my mouth until I choked. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe, my hands gripping his thighs for balance.

"That’s it, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Take it all." My mind went blank, the world around me fading away as I focused on the man in front of me. His fingers tightened in my hair, his movements becoming more aggressive. I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin, the rhythm of his hips as he thrust into my mouth. My senses were overwhelmed, the taste of him, the sound of his moans, the feeling of his hands on me. It was too much, yet not enough.

The man’s grip on my hair loosened slightly, and I pulled back, gasping for air. He chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Not bad for a first-timer," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But you’ve got a lot to learn."

I said nothing, my mind racing. Is this really my life now? The thought sent a chill down my spine, but there was no time to dwell on it. The man grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You’re going to stay here with me, until I get what I want. And you’re going to do whatever I say, whenever I say it. Got it?”

He grinned wickedly, his hand sliding down my body. I shivered, feeling exposed and vulnerable. This is what I’ve become. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I was no longer me. I was just a tool, a means to an end. And yet... there was a part of me that couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. I was doing what I had to do to survive.

I closed my eyes, letting the man’s touch wash over me. The sensations were overwhelming, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I need the money. The thought was my only anchor, the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

The man’s hand slid lower, and I tensed, my breath hitching in my throat. He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “You’re going to learn to like it,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “And if you don’t... well, let’s just say I’ll make sure you don’t have a choice.”

The room smelled faintly of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne, a scent that had become as familiar as my own skin over the past two years. I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs crossed delicately, the black leather miniskirt still clinging to my hips. But so much had changed since that first night on the corner. My body was softer now, my curves more pronounced, thanks to the pills he’d been feeding me. Hormones, he called them. They’d done their job well—my chest had filled out, the padded bra now unnecessary. My hips had widened, giving me a silhouette I’d never imagined possible. And then there was the other change, the one I still struggled to wrap my mind around.

“You’re looking more like a real woman every day,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he stepped into the room. He was dressed in a suit today, the fabric tailored to his broad shoulders, the faint scent of his cologne filling the space between us. I hated how good he looked, how he could still make my stomach flutter even after everything he’d done to me. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “You remember the pill I gave you last week?”

I nodded, my throat tightening. How could I forget? I’d woken up in a haze, my body aching, my mind foggy. And when I’d reached down, I’d felt it—or rather, I hadn’t. My penis was gone, replaced by a softness that felt foreign and yet somehow inevitable. I’d screamed, but he’d been there, calming me, telling me it was for the best. “It’s so I can fuck you completely, baby,” he’d said, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re mine now, in every way.”

“Good,” he said now, his hand moving to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Because tonight, we’re going to test it out. See how well your new body can take me.”

My heart skipped a beat. Take him? I’d done so much already, but this... this felt different. Final. There was no going back after this, no pretending I could ever be the person I used to be. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “What if... what if I can’t?”

He smirked, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “Oh, you’ll be able to. I made sure of that. And if it hurts, well... you’ll just have to learn to like it, won’t you?”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but there was a part of me that couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of... something. Excitement? Anticipation? I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t deny it was there. He’d broken me down, piece by piece, and now I was his—mind, body, and soul.

He stepped back, his eyes raking over me as he began to undress. First his jacket, then his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest. His hands moved to his belt, and I couldn’t look away, my breath hitching as he slid it free. This is really happening, I thought, my stomach twisting in knots.

When he was finally naked, he stepped closer, his erection jutting out proudly. I’d seen it before, felt it in my mouth, but this... this was different. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “On your knees,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

I obeyed without hesitation, sinking to the floor on shaky legs. He stepped closer, his cock brushing against my lips, and I opened my mouth instinctively. His hand tangled in my hair, guiding me as I took him in, my tongue swirling around the tip. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, and I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the rhythm.

But he didn’t let it last long. With a sharp tug on my hair, he pulled me back, his eyes burning with desire. “Not here,” he said, his voice thick with need. “On the bed. I want to feel every inch of you.”

I nodded, my heart pounding as I climbed onto the bed. He followed me, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my skirt up around my waist. His fingers brushed against my new folds, and I gasped, the sensation strange and overwhelming. He chuckled, low and dark, as he reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand.

“Relax,” he said, his fingers slick as he pressed against my entrance. “This might sting a little, but you’ll get used to it.”

I tried to breathe, tried to relax, but my body tensed as he pushed inside. It hurt, more than I’d expected, but he didn’t stop, his fingers stretching me open. “That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re taking me so well, baby.”

When he finally pulled his fingers out, I felt empty, but not for long. He positioned himself between my legs, his cock pressing against me, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself. “Ready?” he asked, his voice teasing.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I was. But it didn’t matter. He pushed inside, slowly at first, giving me time to adjust. I bit my lip, the pain sharp and overwhelming, but as he began to move, it eased into something else—a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort that I couldn’t quite process.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips snapping forward. “Take it, baby. Take all of me.”

And I did. I let him fuck me, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate. My body responded in ways I didn’t understand, my hips rocking against his, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? I wondered, my mind spinning. Is this what being a woman is?

He didn’t last long, his body tensing as he came inside me, his groans filling the room. When he finally pulled out, I felt... empty. But also something else. Something I couldn’t quite name.

He collapsed beside me, his breathing ragged, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “You did good, baby,” he said, his hand brushing against my cheek. “You’re mine now. All mine.”

I didn’t respond, my mind still reeling. But as he pulled me into his arms, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of... relief. He was right. I was his. And there was no going back.