"Oh god, this is... this is... this is impossible... this..." Eden whispered quietly, leaning almost right up against the cloudy mirror in the cramped club storage room. The cold light of the flickering lamp above only made everything worse. The face in the reflection was his. Completely his. The same sharp cheekbones, the same slightly heavy jaw, the same nose. But everything else...
He swallowed hard, bracing both palms against the metal sink, then immediately winced painfully because his long polished nails scraped against the metal with an awful screech.
Long dark hair fell over his bare shoulders. Large round earrings swayed slightly with every movement. His lips glistened with clear gloss, his eyelashes were darkened with mascara, and beneath the light tight dress, a huge pair of breasts rose and fell heavily, so obvious and real that just looking at them made Eden feel sick.
"No... no... no..." he whispered, touching his face with trembling fingers tipped with long polished nails. "This isn't... this can't be..."
"Um. Miss?" a calm, slightly low voice suddenly came from directly behind her.
Eden spun around sharply, nearly losing balance on the thin heels. In the cramped storage room where, just moments ago, there seemed to be nobody, there were now two men standing there. Both wore flawless black suits, white shirts, and narrow black ties. Their faces were completely calm, and that only made Eden's heart clench even harder.
"Who... who the hell are you?! What do you want?!"
The taller man tilted his head slightly, as if Eden's question had been entirely expected.
"Agent Rayner," he said evenly, raising a hand slightly. "And this is Agent Cole. And believe me, miss, right now what's far more important is who you are."
"Don't call me that!" Eden nearly shouted, then instantly felt his voice crack upward again, sounding far too high-pitched and emotional. His cheeks immediately burned with humiliation. "I'm not... I'm not a 'miss'! Did you do this to me?!"
He tried to step backward and immediately bumped his hips against the sink. His huge breasts swayed heavily beneath the fabric of the dress, the earrings jerked, long hair slid across his shoulders. All of it felt so horribly wrong that Eden's head started spinning again.
The two agents exchanged a glance, then one of them, as if nothing unusual was happening, pulled a tablet from his pocket, quickly typed something into it and, slightly lifting his eyes from beneath his brows toward Eden, after briefly lingering for a second on his cleavage, asked:
"Your name?"
Eden sucked in a shaky breath, trying to pull himself together. His voice was still trembling, but anger was starting to break through it now.
"Eden. Eden Reeves. And I demand an explanation! Right now!"
The man quickly typed something into the tablet, and for several seconds the only sounds in the cramped storage room were the distant pounding of club music through the wall and Eden's heavy breathing.
Then Agent Cole raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Eden Reeves. Twenty-eight years old. Originally from Boston. Bartender. No criminal record. Past six months, debt problems, trouble paying rent. Allergic to penicillin and a massive Christina Aguilera fan. All correct?"
Eden froze in shock for a second, and for a moment a chill ran through him.
"W-what..?" he breathed out, already much quieter.
The way the agent calmly listed details from his life felt completely incomprehensible to him. Especially the last part.
"I'm not a Christina Aguilera fan!" he suddenly snapped, as if that was somehow the most important thing right now. "I just... I have a couple songs in my playlist, that's not..."
Cole exchanged a glance with Rayner and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, like he was holding back a smirk.
"Uh huh," he said dryly. "Not a fan. Sure."
"Fuck you," Eden shot back automatically, but with his new voice it sounded less threatening and more nervous and almost hysterical, making his own face twist with irritation immediately afterward. "Jesus Christ... why the hell do I even sound like this?!"
He suddenly grabbed at his throat. Fingers tipped with long glossy nails trembled slightly as they scratched at the soft skin of his neck, and his elbows kept brushing against the heavy soft tits, as if they were deliberately reminding him they existed.
Rayner watched this calmly for several seconds before slowly speaking.
"Alright. Do you know who you are right now?"
Eden stared at him like the question was completely insane.
"What..?" he breathed out, still pressing a hand against his throat. "What do you mean 'who I am right now'? I literally just told you who I am!"
Cole sighed heavily and rubbed his temple and, judging by the look on his face, was about to say something sarcastic, but Rayner interrupted him with a slight raise of his hand.
"I mean this body. Do you know this girl?" His gaze traveled slowly upward, from the thin heels to Eden's face, pausing briefly on the earrings and the heavy breasts beneath the pale dress.
Eden abruptly crossed his arms over his chest as if trying to shield himself, but instantly winced when the soft weight pressed far too noticeably against his forearms.
"That's Macy! A VIP whore who hangs around here all the time!" Eden squeaked, grimacing. "Oh god! She's in my body right now, isn't she?! We have to find her! We have to—"
"Shhh... quieter," Rayner said calmly, but suddenly there was something hard in his voice, almost commanding. "First of all, stop yelling. Second... no. It's a little more complicated than that."
Eden froze.
"What do you mean 'more complicated'?" he asked slowly, feeling everything inside his stomach turn cold.
Cole leaned his shoulder against the metal shelf, still holding the tablet in his hands.
"This isn't a body swap, Eden," he said dryly. "You're still in your own body. Technically."
Eden stared at them like a bull looking at a red cloth that had suddenly become transparent, except he knew for a fact it had been there a second ago. Not a body swap? He had only barely managed to accept that something as insane and impossible as body swapping could even exist, and now they were immediately telling him "no," and that this was somehow still his body?!
"Wha?!" was the only thing Eden managed to blurt out, sounding less like himself and more like some trashy girl shoved into an overly expensive dress and forced to play the role of a glamorous party girl. He instantly straightened up sharply, long hair swaying across his bare shoulders while the earrings jerked together with his head. "Are you even hearing the shit you're saying?! This is not my body! Are you completely insane?!"
"Unfortunately, it is your body," Rayner answered calmly.
Eden let out a nervous laugh.
"Oh yeah?" he breathed out almost hysterically. "Then why do I have boobs and... oh fuck!"
He nervously reached a hand between his legs, but Agent Rayner immediately caught his wrist.
“Hey! None of that here, alright? You’ll have time for that later!”
Eden yanked his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove and pressed it against his tits, completely forgetting about the soft weight there.
“What do you mean, ‘later’?” he breathed out in a high, trembling voice. “You... you... I need to call the police!”
He took a step toward the exit, instantly feeling the strain in his ankle and lower back under the completely unfamiliar weight distribution. The heel twisted dangerously and Eden nearly crashed to the floor, instinctively grabbing onto a metal shelf. His long earrings swung, hair lashed across his cheek, and his heavy breasts jerked painfully beneath the tight dress.
“Fuck!” he gasped, trying to steady himself. “How does anyone even walk in this?!”
Cole let out a short snort.
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“You’re both fucking insane!” Eden snapped, still clinging to the shelf. “I’m not gonna ‘figure out’ how to walk around with... with these!”
He tried taking another step toward the exit, but Rayner moved in front of him like a wall.
“You got it, Cole?”
Without a word, Cole slid a finger across the tablet screen, and a dossier popped up a second later. He narrowed his eyes, quickly scanning the lines.
“Yep. Macy Briggs. Twenty-six years old. Worked here for about a year and a half. Officially a model and alcohol promoter, unofficially: VIP clients, private dances, sex work.”
“Oh my God, would you shut the fuck up already?! What does she even have to do with this?!” Eden shot back, feeling his face burning all over again. “Move, asshole!”
He shoved against Rayner, but it was like hitting concrete, pain immediately shooting through his wrist from the impact.
“Ah!..” Eden winced sharply, clutching his hand against his breasts. “Are you completely fucking crazy?!”
Rayner, without even budging, calmly started pulling a pair of black sunglasses from his pocket.
Eden stared at them like they were a gun.
“No, no, no...” he breathed quickly, instantly pressing himself back against the metal shelf. “You. You... You aren’t fucking Men in Black, right? Right?! Tell me this is some prank, some joke, anything except this shit!”
Rayner froze with the glasses in his hand and for several seconds just stared at Eden, who was pressed against the metal shelf like it could somehow protect him from what was happening. The cold steel dug unpleasantly into his shoulder blades, his long earrings trembled with every heavy breath, and the tits under his dress rose and fell rapidly, stretching the fabric tighter and tighter.
Cole cracked first, letting out a short laugh.
“Jesus Christ, Rayner, I always said they never should’ve made movies about us.”
“We didn’t make them,” Rayner answered dryly, still holding the glasses. “And that’s not the important part right now.”
Eden nervously shook his head.
“Take it up with Zed, you know I told him not to.”
Eden swallowed the lump building in his throat.
“With who...?” he asked, voice shaking as his head darted left and right.
Cole rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.
“Doesn’t matter. Look over here instead.” He finally put the glasses on, reached into his pocket, and pulled out some tiny metal thing about the size of a lighter.
“No-no-no,” Eden started rambling quickly, pressing himself even harder against the shelf. “Don’t even think about it! I know how this ends! You’re gonna erase my memory or some shit, aren’t you?!”
“If we wanted to erase your memory,” Cole said tiredly, “you’d already be flirting with some broker from Chicago in the VIP lounge and thinking you’d been Macy Briggs your whole life.”
“Fuck you!” Eden nearly snapped, but his voice traitorously shot upward again, cracking from emotion. “I’m not her!”
Meanwhile, Cole flicked his thumb against the little metal device.
“Don’t move.”
“Don’t point that thing at me!” Eden instantly ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his heavy breasts rise beneath the dress, stretching the skin with their weight. “Jesus…”
The agents apparently exchanged a glance and Cole let out an irritated sigh, lowering the device.
“Alright. Listen carefully. I’m explaining this once and only once, got it?”
Still grimacing, Eden cautiously opened one eye and immediately saw that Cole had already shoved the weird device back into his pocket, while Rayner stood directly in front of him with his arms crossed, looking like this whole situation was somewhere between routine paperwork and a customer meltdown at an airport.
“Good,” Cole continued without waiting for an answer. “Right now we’re tracking down one idiot who stole a transmorphifier from us and decided to test it on random people.”
Eden blinked.
“...A transmor... what?”
“Transmorphifier,” Cole repeated tiredly. “Alien adaptive bio-restructuring technology. Lets the user completely alter their body to match a chosen biological template. Mostly used for off-world visitors.”
“Off-world visitors...” Eden let out a nervous laugh. “And that’s why I suddenly have... tits now?”
“Yes, that’s exactly why!” Rayner cut in irritably. “Jesus Christ, Cole, could you explain something like a normal person for once?!”
“I am explaining it normally.”
“You sound like a fucking microwave manual!”
“Because it is technology!”
“AND WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!” Eden nearly shrieked, jabbing a finger at his own chest before instantly flinching when the soft weight under the dress bounced from the movement. “Why did this thing pick me?!”
For the first time, Cole looked at Eden with something almost resembling sympathy.
“You got unlucky, buddy.”
“Or lucky,” Rayner smirked.
“Lucky?!” Eden breathed out in a high, broken voice. “Are you serious? I’ve got fucking D-cup tits that keep spilling out of this goddamn dress anytime I bounce even a little too hard during a dance, and that slut Daisy keeps telling me I need more! More where?! Huh?! Where exactly?! They’re already huge and heavy as fuck!”
He suddenly stopped talking, like he’d only just realized what he’d said.
The storage room went silent for a moment, the same kind of silence as earlier when Cole had first pulled out the tablet and started looking up Eden’s information.
“I...” he exhaled quietly. “I don’t... I don’t know any Daisy…”
Cole slowly nodded toward the tablet.
“Actually, you do.”
His finger slid across the screen.
“Daisy Morales. Dancer. Worked here for eight months. Multiple conflicts with Macy Briggs. Reason: competition over VIP clients and—”
“SHUT UP!” Eden nearly shrieked, slamming his hands over his ears.
His long earrings swung with the movement. Hair slid across his bare shoulders.
“I don’t want to know this! I don’t want to know who Daisy is! I don’t want to know how this fucking dress fits! I don’t even want to know how... how...”
He abruptly cut himself off.
His face went even paler.
“...how to discreetly adjust my tits through the fabric…”
“Cole! Time, damn it! You planning to transfer into elder care or what?”
“No, I just—”
“That’s it. I’m done,” Rayner cut him off, reaching a hand toward Eden, fingers curled like he was holding something even though there was obviously nothing there. “Here. Take it and put it on.”
Eden stared at his empty palm like Rayner had just suggested shoving his hand into a running blender.
“What?..” he breathed nervously. “What do you mean, ‘take it’?!”
“Interface layer,” Cole answered quickly. “Put it on before I do it for you myself!”
“THERE’S NOTHING FUCKING THERE! WHAT IS THIS, ANOTHER JOKE?!”
“Jesus...” Cole rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “It doesn’t show up in the optical spectrum. Just grab it.”
“Why the hell would I even—”
“Eden,” Rayner interrupted, and for the first time his voice turned genuinely hard. “Either you put the interface on willingly right now, or I swear the second I get the transmorphifier back, I’ll turn you into a dog and you’ll spend the rest of your life eating my leftovers.”
Eden immediately hunched his shoulders and instinctively reached out his small hand, feeling like a complete idiot. A second later, something appeared in his palm that felt like a bracelet, even though his eyes still saw absolutely nothing.
“Put it on and get up!”
“You... you’re both insane,” he muttered, still obeying as he stretched the strange bracelet over one wrist with the other hand. It felt elastic, almost like something from a water park.
The material wrapped itself around his skin on its own. Soft, way too soft, almost like it wasn’t being worn at all but melting directly over his wrist.
“Ugh, fuck...” Eden grimaced, instinctively trying to shake it off. “It’s... alive?!”
“Close enough,” Cole replied quickly. “The Glorki call it ‘Brgrdykh!’ It releases airborne particles that make people see whatever they expect to see. That’s how we handle face issues whenever someone replaces a human identity. In your case it’d be pretty weird if you kept living as Macy while still walking around with Eden’s face, wouldn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t it?!” Eden nearly shrieked, automatically brushing his hair behind his ear because another long strand had fallen into his face. “Are you seriously talking about this like I’m already supposed to live as this... this Macy?!”
The bracelet on his wrist suddenly gave a faint twitch.
“Oh, she’s cute,” Rayner remarked, staring directly at Eden’s face, which now looked completely different to him and everyone else around them. Like Macy’s face.
Then, before Eden had time to process that, Rayner sharply added:
“Now look over here!”
“What?! Where?! No!” Before Rayner could even press the button, Eden squeezed his eyes shut again. Somehow, now that only made him look even cuter, which clearly had the opposite effect on Rayner.
“Goddammit! Cole, I can’t do this anymore! We need to pull that fucking movie from distribution!”
“Agreed,” Cole answered dryly. “Especially the fifth one.”
“Fuck both of you!” Eden snapped, still standing there with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands stretched out in front of him. “You’re literally threatening me with some kind of space doghouse!”
“Eden, open your eyes,” Cole said tiredly. “We’re not gonna erase your memory, I swear.”
Eden stayed frozen for another second, eyes tightly shut, breathing hard. The tits beneath the tight dress rose and fell rapidly, his earrings trembled faintly, and his fingers with their long nails nervously flexed in the air like he was desperately trying to find something stable in the middle of this insanity.
“No,” he exhaled. “No, because the second I open my eyes, you’re gonna point some other alien bullshit at me and I’ll wake up as a pregnant housewife from Arizona!”
“That’s not even how it works,” Cole muttered automatically.
“DOESN’T MATTER!”
Rayner let out a long, exhausted breath.
“Eden. This is a neuropsychological adjustment device, not a memory eraser! We’d just make you think you always wanted to be Macy Briggs.”
“WHAT?!” Eden’s voice cracked so sharply and so high that even he flinched at the sound of his own shriek. “No! No-no-no! Are you completely fucking insane?!”
He threw his eyes open and instantly pressed both hands against his breasts like he was physically shielding himself from Rayner’s words. The heavy curves beneath the thin fabric softly compressed under his palms again, and the sensation only made the panic worse.
“You want to brainwash me?!” he nearly choked out. “Turn me into that... that... club doll?!”
“Well technically,” Cole started in the tone of a man about to launch into another lecture, “it’s not really ‘brainwashing,’ it’s more of a—”
“COLE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Rayner barked, immediately turning back to Eden. “And you! You! You wanna end up in a psych ward for the rest of your life or do you wanna keep living like a normal human being?! HUH?!”
“Rayner, don’t yell like that...” Cole grimaced, but Rayner had already stepped directly into Eden’s space.
Inside the cramped storage room, it felt almost suffocating. Tall, broad, dressed in a black suit, he completely towered over Eden, who in this body looked especially small and vulnerable now: narrow bare shoulders, the pale dress, long earrings trembling with every sharp breath, and those huge, heavy tits that Eden was still unconsciously clutching against himself, like he was trying to protect himself not from the agents, but from his own body.
“Listen to me carefully,” Rayner said harshly. “The human body usually gets completely fucking destroyed by the transmorphifier, and the fact you’re still standing here means one thing only: you got insanely lucky. Sure, if you want, once we find that thing we can try using it on you again, but I guarantee all we’ll find afterward are your guts splattered across a wall, same as the other three people before you, one of whom was apparently Macy herself. So either you calmly accept her life and accept our goddamn help adapting to it, or we walk the fuck out right now and leave you here in Macy Briggs’ body, with her debts, her clients, her face, and your little ‘aliens turned me into a girl’ psychotic breakdown. Actually, you know what? Fuck it. We’re leaving.”
Eden felt something inside him collapse. He was still standing there with both hands pressed against his heavy breasts, his long polished nails lightly digging through the thin fabric into the soft skin beneath. His earrings swung as he suddenly lurched forward.
“Wait!” The high, almost shrill voice burst out of him. “Hey! What the fuck?!”
Rayner had already turned toward the door, but stopped after hearing Eden shout. Cole froze too, still holding the tablet tucked under his arm. For several seconds, the cramped storage room was filled only with Eden’s ragged breathing and the distant throb of bass from the club outside, like somewhere beyond the wall normal life was still going on while his own was collapsing into hell.
“Well?” Rayner threw out dryly without turning around. “What is it? You wanted us to leave.”
Eden swallowed hard.
His eyes darted wildly between the two agents, like he was desperately searching for even the slightest hint that this was all a prank. Anything normal. But there was only the cramped storage room, the cold flickering light overhead, metal shelves, the exit door where the two agents stood, and his own body that still felt horrifyingly wrong.
“I...” he squeaked.
He cleared his throat and instantly winced at how fragile and emotional it sounded.
“I... I...”
“What ‘I’? Spit it out already, she’s getting annoying.”
“Jesus Christ, Rayner, you are literally yelling at someone in neural shock right now.”
“And what, I’m supposed to kiss her on the cheek?” Rayner snapped back. “We don’t have time for this! She doesn’t want help getting rid of the shock, she wants to suffer. Let’s go.”
Eden swallowed again, feeling something ring painfully inside him at the word “she.” But seeing the two of them turning away again, he blurted out:
“No! Wait!” Eden’s voice cracked upward again as it escaped him.
Rayner slowly turned his head over his shoulder.
“Well finally,” he said dryly to Cole. “Looks like self-preservation instincts won after all.”
Eden breathed heavily, still standing in the middle of the cramped storage room with his hands pressed against his chest. His heels trembled faintly beneath him, and the cursed dress seemed to cling tighter and tighter to his body, outlining every curve, every contour, every movement of his tits as he breathed.
“I...” He swallowed. “I don’t want to stay like this, okay?! But I don’t want to be this... Macy either!”
“There aren’t any other options, buddy,” Cole said tiredly. “Either you agree and ‘want’ to be her, or—”
“Jesus Christ. Hurry up already.” Rayner pulled a small metal plate the size of a credit card from his pocket and shoved it sharply into Cole’s hand. “I’m done running therapy sessions in here.”
“You are literally the worst negotiator on this planet,” Cole muttered while taking the plate.
“Two planets.”
“That doesn’t improve the situation.”
Eden swallowed hard again, still looking between them.
“What... what is that now?” he breathed out. “I look into that thing and suddenly become some guy who spent his whole life dreaming about ‘being Macy’?!”
“Too many questions,” Rayner started, and the second Eden looked at him, he finally clicked the device.
Eden froze.
At the same time, both agents removed their glasses almost in sync.
“Alright, Eden. Remember, you’re May—”
“Rayner, I promised him no full overwrite,” Cole said quickly, grabbing his wrist before he could finish the sentence.
Rayner stared him in the eyes for a long five seconds. Then inhaled loudly through his nose and let the breath back out just as heavily.
“Fine! Then you explain it yourself!” He turned around dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest.
“God, you’re like a kindergarten kid sometimes,” Cole muttered, lightly scolding him before immediately turning his attention back to “Macy,” who stood motionless like a mannequin, and began explaining.
…
Eden slowly opened his eyes, feeling some thick, heavy haze still stretching through his mind, like he’d just woken up from a dream that lasted too long, one where he cried, laughed, hated himself, and at the same time felt so overwhelmingly happy it physically hurt. For several seconds he simply stood there, blankly staring ahead, not understanding how he got here while the muffled pulse of club bass echoed through the wall.
“God...” he whispered softly, running a hand over his forehead and immediately feeling long nails glide gently against his skin, catching slightly in his hair near the roots. For a second he froze, automatically brushing a long dark strand behind his ear, and the heavy earring swayed beside his cheek.
Only then did Eden frown.
Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong, but what?
He lowered his gaze and saw the pale tight dress hugging his body so closely that the heavy breasts beneath the thin fabric were impossible to ignore, slowly rising and falling with each breath. For a second Eden simply stared at them without blinking, like his brain refused to assemble what he was seeing into a coherent image.
Then something inside him abruptly gave way.
“What?..” he breathed out, hearing his own voice, sounding so unfamiliar and yet so cute at the same time.
His fingers instinctively moved downward, brushing the soft fabric over his chest, and the second they did, Eden sharply sucked in air through his nose because beneath his palm wasn’t padding, not a push-up bra, not a costume, not a prank, but a real body. Warm. Soft. Heavy. His breasts visibly yielded beneath his fingers, and the sensation sent such a strange, delicate jolt through his body that Eden instantly yanked his hand away like he’d burned himself.
“Oh God...” he whispered, almost unable to believe what he was seeing as tears of joy started forming in his eyes. “This... this... is this real? Is this actually real?..”
His face twisted into a mixture of happiness and horror so intense that for several seconds Eden genuinely couldn’t tell whether he was laughing or crying. His lips trembled, his breathing broke apart, and inside his head it felt like two completely incompatible lives were crashing against each other, both screaming that they were the real one. He still remembered himself, remembered Boston, the cheap apartment with the peeling ceiling, the sticky smell of beer behind the bar counter, endless shifts, irritation at customers, cigarettes behind the club, remembered his name, his voice, his habits, even the stupid Christina Aguilera playlists he played at night whenever he got drunk alone.
But at the same time, now there was something else inside him.
Something deeper. More emotional. And far scarier.
Because somewhere between all those memories now lived the feeling that he had always wanted this.
Not “ended up like this.” Not “accidentally became this.”
Wanted it.
Dreamed about it.
Begged for it, for fuck’s sake.
Eden suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth, feeling a wave of trembling spread through his body from that thought alone. Long nails brushed against his damp lips while the earring swayed beside his cheek as he slowly shook his head.
“No...” he whispered. “No-no... I didn’t...”
But the thought didn’t disappear. If anything, it only grew stronger, wrapping itself around new memories.
He remembered evenings spent watching Macy at the club. Remembered how much it irritated him how effortlessly she drew attention. How furious he got whenever rich clients picked her specifically. How he caught himself staring too long, too carefully, at her hair, her walk, her tits, the way she adjusted her dress, the way she rolled her eyes whenever some drunk idiot tried grabbing her thigh.
And of course he remembered how an hour ago he had walked into this room, dropped to his knees, and started begging the universe. Tears ran down his face, his voice cracked apart, and he just kept repeating it over and over:
“Please... let me become her. Let me be Macy. Beautiful. Desired. And suck cock like she does and... Hey, Rayner, what the fuck, that’s not what I— shit, the recording’s still going... okay, fine, I just want to become her and live her happy life.”
Eden abruptly stopped in the middle of his own sentence like someone had electrocuted him. His face instantly flushed bright red and his eyes widened so much he looked like someone who had just heard his own thoughts blasted through giant speakers.
‘Who the hell is Rayner?’
He had said that name during his prayer to every god in the universe, he remembered that clearly, but now the name hung empty in his head, without a face, without a voice. Just some random word that slipped out during a breakdown. Probably something his stressed brain invented. Or the name of an actor from some old movie he watched drunk. Didn’t matter.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said aloud to himself, and Macy’s voice sounded firmer now. “The important thing is that I’m... Macy. Oh my God.”
Eden slowly stood up and confidently stepped forward on the heels like he’d worn them his whole life, then lowered his gaze toward the deep cleavage between his breasts with open, undisguised joy. At that exact moment such an intense, almost painful wave of euphoria surged through him that he had to grab the edge of the metal sink just to stay standing.
“God...” he almost moaned, staring down at his own cleavage, at the way his pleasantly heavy tits stretched the thin fabric of the pale dress. “Oh my God... I... I really am...”