I heard Adam coming home early in the morning. I heard his gym bag hit the kitchen floor as he went to prepare a protein shake. Now, I was ‘normal.’ I was in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. The makeup was long gone, and the dress was hidden away.
So I went out, hoping I could explain myself to him. I was hoping that I could convince him that the girls made me dress like a girl as part of their training.
Maybe I could convince him that I wasn’t a freak… a loser. Maybe I could convince him that there was still potential.
I went out and saw him there, finishing his protein shake. He was wearing a tight tank top—tighter than usual—or maybe he was just putting on even more muscle. His frame seemed intimidating. He used to be built like me, but now he was so much bigger. He turned to me and looked down on me—as if I was shorter than him. Was I shorter than him? I didn’t used to be…
He sipped his drink and then he wiped his lips. “I can explain,” I said finally. “The girls… they wanted me to dress up with them.”
He nodded his head slowly, taking another big sip.
“They called it, uh… team bonding—and a way to distract the competition.”
“Distract?” he said, his sarcastic voice making it obvious that he didn’t believe a word.
“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t know. That’s just what Lena said. I didn’t really agree with it, but, uh… I didn’t care.”
“You didn’t care?”
“It was just, like, a silly costume,” I said.
“So you don’t like dressing up?”
“No,” I said quickly.
“So you don’t still have that dress and wig hiding in your room somewhere?”
I wasn’t so fast to reply. I wanted to lie, but I was scared that he was going to go search my room.
“Um… It’s there, but like… just because it’s all I had to wear home,” I said, heart rate increasing.
“Go put it on,” he said suddenly, staring into my eyes.
“W—What?”
“Go put it on.”
I stood there awkwardly. I bit my tongue. “Why?” I asked softly.
“I want to see you in it again. You were actually kind of convincing on that stage—but I want to see you in better light.”
I hesitated. “I don’t have makeup. And… I’m not going to put on a dress so you can make fun of me.”
“Go put it on,” he said. “My girlfriend left her makeup in the bathroom. Use that.”
The intensity in his eyes made it hard to question him. So I just nodded and buzzed off. I grabbed the dress and the wig and, embarrassed, marched to the bathroom. The makeup was there, so I put a bit on: just some eyeliner and a bit of shadow—and a touch of lip gloss, with a brush of blush on the cheeks.
Then I turned around and saw him in the doorway. He was looking at me. “You look like a woman,” he said. “I’ll be damned.”
“Okay,” I said. “So… Can I take it off then?”
Then, he reached down. He took the waistband of his sweatpants and folded them down, along with his boxers. I saw the plume of pubic hair—and then I saw the thick, half-erect cock. “Suck me,” he said.
“W—What?”
“You want to be a girl? I’ll make you feel like a girl.”
“Adam…” I gasped, my voice suddenly weak.
He walked towards me. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder—and then slid it up to my face. He brushed a strand of wig hair away from my eyes.
Then, his other hand took my hand and he guided it to his cock. He made me curl my fingers around it. “Feel it throbbing? That’s because you’re kind of hot.”
“Adam… What are you doing?” I asked nervously.
“Don’t act so weird about it,” he growled. “If you didn’t actually look like a chick, I wouldn’t do this. You can suck me. Go ahead.”
“I—I don’t want to,” I said, but for some reason, I was already stroking him. It was almost like I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the way he stood over me, intimidating me… or maybe I actually wanted to do it; maybe I wanted to know what it would feel like to be properly dominated. Mara mounting me and fucking me like a little bunny was one thing: it was cute and fun and exciting. But with a big, muscular man… it was so much more intense.
I slowly went down to my knees. His cock began to rise up, curving like a scimitar. I gently pulled his foreskin back, revealing his reddened, swollen tip. I did… want to suck it. But why? Where were these feelings coming from?
I leaned in. I let my tongue slip out from my mouth. I was just about to lick it when I heard my phone buzzing on the counter. Then, I paused.
“Suck me, beautiful,” he growled.
“Wait,” I said. I stood up and went to my phone. It was a message from Jess.
“Ellie! We ended up winning a wild-card spot at the tournament. They’re paying for us to go to Montreal tomorrow.”
My heart soared high in my chest.
Adam came up behind me. He put his hands on my sides, and his nose hovered in over my shoulder. He started kissing my neck, but his lips felt cold and dry. It felt so… wrong.
“Stop,” I said.
“I’ll make you feel like a woman,” he growled.
“I don’t want that.”
“Yes, you do.” He spun me around and pulled me into his sweaty chest.
I managed to push myself away from him. I looked him up and down. His cock was huge: throbbing and erect. His eyes were wide, shocked that I was rejecting him. “I—I have to go.”
“Where?”
“To be with my team.”
“Those loser trannies?”
“They aren’t losers,” I said. “And don’t say that word.”
“So you are one of them,” he said, shaking his head.
“Maybe you need to worry about your own problems before obsessing about the lives of other people,” I said, scolding him.
I pushed my way by him and went to my room to quickly pack a few things.
The door slammed behind me as I shoved past Adam, my pulse roaring in my ears. I didn’t look back.
My room was a mess—clothes strewn across the bed, my gaming rig humming softly in the corner. I grabbed my backpack and threw in essentials: a change of clothes, my toothbrush, my lucky mousepad. The yellow dress was still folded at the bottom of my gym bag. I hesitated for only a second before stuffing it in too.
Adam appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed. “You’re really doing this?”
I zipped the bag shut. “Yeah. I am.”
“For them?” His voice dripped with disgust. “You’re throwing away everything—our friendship, your dignity—to play dress-up with a bunch of—”
“Stop.” I turned to face him, my hands shaking. “You don’t get to talk about them like that. You don’t get to talk about me like that.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Then it’s mine to make.”
I slung the backpack over my shoulder and pushed past him again, this time for good.
*
Lena answered the door on the first knock. She took one look at my backpack and the pale expression on my face, and she stepped aside without a word.
The living room was bathed in the blue glow of monitors. Zoe was sprawled on the couch painting her toenails an electric pink, while Mara fiddled with her headset. Jess glanced up from her keyboard, her eyebrow piercing catching the light.
“Well, well,” she drawled. “Look who finally grew a spine.”
Zoe grinned. “Does this mean we get to keep you, Pretty Boy?”
I dropped my bag by the door. “If you’ll have me.”
Lena brushed by me in a flirty sort of way. “Our flight is bright and early. If we can just make the top four, we get a spot on the national tour—and that means sponsorship. But it’s not going to be easy. We’ve got work to do.”
The next few days blurred together in a haze of caffeine and strategy.
Jess drilled me on close-quarters combat, her knee digging into my thigh as she leaned over to correct my aim. “Stop flinching,” she muttered, her breath warm against my ear. Zoe forced me into team-coloured nail polish. “It’s for morale!” she insisted, and she laughed when I caught myself admiring the shimmer.
And through it all—no Adam. No sneering comments. No crushing weight of expectations.
Just us.
I found Jess on the fire escape late that night, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. She didn’t look at me as I sat beside her.
“You scared?” she asked.
The city lights stretched out below us, endless and glittering. “Terrified.”
She smirked. “Good. Means you’re not stupid.”
I hesitated. “Jess… thanks. For not giving up on me.”
She flicked ash over the railing. “Don’t thank me yet. We haven’t won.”
But when her hand brushed mine, just for a second, it felt like we already had. “If we win tomorrow…” she said, eyeing me up and down. “I want to fuck you, to celebrate. No pressure. I won’t be offended if you reject me or anything—but you’ve got that ass, and it’s been on my mind a lot.”
“That’s fine,” I blushed.
She smiled. “My dick’s pretty big. You sure you can take it?”
“I can try.”
“Cute,” she said, and then she took another drag from her cigarette.
We ended up coming in second place in that tournament, which was a lot further than any of us thought we would go. It was a lot further than we needed to go to turn the next year into a full-time gig. We got paid: more prize-money. We got a slew of invites to more tournaments, all expenses paid. We even got a few sponsorships. In fact, after just a month, I was making more money than Adam… Not that I cared. I really didn’t think much about him—except for the awkward day that I went to that basement suite to get my things. He was there, in the kitchen, eyeing me up and down, but saying nothing until I was about to leave and he said, “I was just kidding around when I offered to fuck you.”
“Okay,” I said. I knew he was lying, but I didn’t care.
“I don’t want to fuck you. I’m not into trannies.”
“Okay,” I said again.
“Don’t think about telling anyone about that, because it’s just not true.”
“Whatever, Adam,” I said—and that was the end of the conversation—and the last time I talked to him.
But I didn’t feel like I lost a friend. I just felt like I had gained three fantastic new friends: friends who were willing to let me be me, and explore whoever I wanted to be.
THE END