[Patreon Exclusive] GOING THROUGH CHANGES: Chapter 9 (Patreon)

Chapter 9

I got changed back into my male clothes at that same spot in the woods, about thirty yards from the road. I used a couple dozen makeup wipes on my face, making sure I got every last little bit of mascara off of my eyelashes. And then I stared at myself closely in my little makeup mirror before continuing on towards Aunt Fey’s house. I’d managed to get all of the makeup off, but now my face was a shade of red from all of the rubbing.

Aunt Fey was home when I got home. She was sitting on the back deck, watching the waves crash against the shore. I tried to sneak into my room without her noticing, so I could get my outfit out from my bag so it wouldn’t get wrinkled—but she turned around and saw me just as I was reaching for the door handle. “How was school today?” she called out.

“It was fine,” I said.

“Come and sit with me for a minute. The weather is so perfect and the waves are so beautiful.”

I hesitated. Then I put my bag down and started towards the deck.

“There’s a fresh pot of coffee on, if you want,” she said before I reached that opened back door. I didn’t usually drink coffee that late in the day, but I couldn’t say no to a fresh cup. I got myself a steaming mug of coffee and then I joined Aunt Fey out on the deck. “So school was good?” she said.

The question took me by surprise. She never asked me how school went, so why was she asking today—the one day that I actually went to school? “It was okay,” I said. “It was just school.”

“Nothing interesting happen?” she asked. And then I noticed that she was grinning slightly. Did the teachers tell her about my name change? Did they somehow reach out to her? Or did she maybe notice her missing outfit? With all of the clothes in her house, how could she possibly notice a single skirt and blouse missing?

“Not really,” I said. And I realized that I forcing myself to speak in my natural masculine voice. After using nothing but my girly voice all day, it was hard to break. “Just another day of school.” I took a long sip from my coffee. And that’s when I noticed she wasn’t drinking any coffee.

“Are you having people over?” I asked.

“No. But I think I’m going to go out in a few minutes. I have some errands to run in town. I’ll probably be out until late, so don’t wait up for me.”

I sat with her for another five minutes, watching the water. I was excited for her to leave, so that I could try on more of her clothes. But I made a point of looking bored while she was there. I couldn’t help but notice that she never got herself a cup of coffee. Why did she make a fresh pot if she wasn’t going to have any? Did she just make it for me? Maybe she just liked the smell of it. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her with a cup of coffee in her hand. Did she ever drink coffee? Whenever I poured myself a cup, the pot was always full.

“I better get going,” she said. I watched as she got ready to go. I was half-expecting to catch her filling up a thermos, but she didn’t even do that. She just left, leaving that fresh pot of coffee on its little heating plate. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t think too much into it. It was just coffee, after all.

While Aunt Fey was out, I tried on four different dresses, four different pairs of heels, and some lingerie I found in a bottom drawer. The lingerie was tight, but it looked so amazingly cute on me—even though I didn’t have my makeup on. I found a long pair of white knit stockings with blue lace bands around the thighs. I put them on, along with a pair of white panties and a grey shirt, and I went to sleep in the outfit, with my bedroom door locked in case Aunt Fey decided to check in on me when she got home (which she’d never done before). I didn’t want to take any chances, but I did want to revel in my feminine persona for just a little bit longer. I don’t know why, but I just felt more comfortable in the feminine getup. It was all so soft and it made me feel so cute, even though there was nobody around.

It was the next morning when I found myself in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at my bare tits, trying to decide whether or not they looked bigger. They seemed to have more shape to them—they were more filled out, with deeper underside curves. They were even easier to grab—or maybe that was just in my head. But how could they be developing so quickly? Was female puberty just hitting me really hard?

I was late for school, missing my first two periods because I decided to go to the café before school. I had to do a bit of research on my computer, to see what was possibly happening to my body. I made a post on a medical website, with pictures of my chest, asking for some opinions on what could be happening. I was terrified by the answers. “This is either a troll post or someone has been slipping you lots of hormones,” said the first reply. “People don’t go through changes that quickly, unless they’re on serious hormone therapy.”

The answers were frustrating. No one on the Internet seemed to believe that the changes were happening suddenly even though I wasn’t taking any pills. They all thought that I was just making a prank post. My thread even ended up getting locked by the site’s moderators. So I went to school feeling annoyed and frustrated. But what if they were right? What if these changes were really impossible without taking hormones?

During my long walk towards my rural school, I tried to think of possible changes to my diet. I’d read online that there are lots of foods with hormones in them. Apparently milk has lots of estrogen in it—but I hardly drank any milk. In fact, I hardly drank anything at all, save for coffee.

My heart stuttered and I stopped. The changes started happening shortly after arriving at Aunt Fey’s house—shortly after I started drinking her coffee every morning and eating her food every day. Was she slipping me hormones? And if she was, why was she doing it?

The theory seemed preposterous, so I pushed it out from my head. There was no way that my aunt had been drugging me secretly for months. There must be some other answer. My ‘actually born a woman’ theory still seemed to be the most realistic, even though the Internet seemed to think that it was biologically impossible.

It was while I was changing into my gym outfit that I noticed my cock was once again smaller. It was hardly a bulge in my panties now, and my ball sack had shrivelled to half of its original size. It was no longer hard to hide, as long as I didn’t have an erection. I was starting to wonder if it would eventually disappear completely, or if it would turn itself into a pussy. The thought seemed impossible, but my body was apparently already achieving the impossible.

And it wasn’t just physical changes that I was going through. I was starting to feel different. I was starting to have new fantasies and new thoughts creeping into my brain. I was invited by my new blonde friends to watch the boys’ football practise after school. And while I sat in the stands and watched, I felt strange feelings that I’d never felt before. The team’s quarterback was so handsome, and he was probably twice my size. He looked over at me at one point and smiled. All of the girls started giggling and whispering, and I became completely silent—completely overwhelmed as my heart swirled in circles. But I wasn’t gay—was I? Was I becoming gay? Is it even considered gay if I really was turning into a woman?

I was confused to say the least. And I was terrified after the boys’ practise when one of my friends gave me a shove and said, “Go talk to him,” as if she knew that I was feeling a strange attraction towards a boy who I didn’t even know.

I felt my face turning a dark shade of red. He was standing on the side of field, drinking from his water bottle. My friends watched from a distance as I approached. “Hey,” I said. My voice was quiet and weak. But he still heard me. He looked over at me with a big, handsome smile. He took another swig from his water bottle. His sweaty muscles glistened as they caught the light.

“What’s up?” he said.

“You’re looking good out there,” I said. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure why. Was it because I was nervous to talk to a cute boy? Or was it because I was nervous that he might figure out my true identity?

“Thanks. You’re looking good up there,” he said, motioning up at the stands. And I felt my cheeks turning redder. A part of me wished that I could have been like him back when I was a guy: handsome, charming, and confident. No girls ever walked up to me to flirt. No girls ever showed up at any of my after school activities, just to watch me. But another part of me felt strangely comfortable with this new role that I’d found myself in. It was fun being the girl in the stands. I liked being that girl that he looked up to between plays.

But I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t really a girl. I was only at that school to get my diploma, so that I wouldn’t have to flip burgers for the rest of my life. Why was I wasting time watching football practises? Why was I meandering onto the field to flirt with boys? What was the point of any of this? I should have been at home, finishing my homework and catching up on all of the content that I’d missed, but instead I was face to face with a guy who wasn’t even in any of my classes.

“Your name is Kendra, right?” he asked.

I nodded my head.

“You’re cute, Kendra,” he said.

I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from getting too excited. I managed to keep my cool. “Thanks,” I said.

“I’m having a little party this Friday. You should come. You can even bring some friends if you want.”

“Okay. That sounds like fun,” I said. And I was already excited to go through Aunt Fey’s closets to see what kind of party outfits she might be hiding. I already had some ideas based on what I knew she had. I definitely wanted to wear those black heels with the gold buckles—and maybe that black lace choker that I saw in that top corner drawer, with the rest of Aunt Fey’s costume jewellery.

“I’m Ben, by the way,” he said.

“Kendra,” I said.

He laughed. “Yeah, I know,” he said. And then I felt my cheeks turn an even darker and warmer shade of red. But he seemed to think it was cute.

My new friends were all excited for me, and they were especially excited that they were now invited to Ben’s party, where the whole football team would be on Friday night. “Kenny, you’re the best,” one of the girls said. My heart immediately plunged into my stomach.

My lips parted but I couldn’t muster up any words. I was caught. They knew—but how long had they known for? “W—What did you say?” I finally managed to ask.

“Kenny—you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I think it sounds cute—better than Ken, and hotter than Kendra.” And then I realized she was just creating a nickname out of Kendra. The fact that it was my real name was just a coincidence. She didn’t know who I really was and she didn’t know that I was really a biological male. And thank God for that.

When I got home from school that afternoon, Aunt Fey was already out, but there was a fresh pot of coffee on the counter. I went to pour myself a cup, and then I remembered that Internet medical forum. I stared at the coffee pot and wondered if it was possible to slip hormones into hot coffee. I still couldn’t think of a single reason why Aunt Fey would do it, but I found myself searching through the kitchen regardless. I popped open the can of coffee grounds and then I searched through all of the cabinets. I felt relieved that I was finding nothing—and then, in the back of the fridge, I noticed a tinge of orange plastic. I reached back and pulled out three small bottles. I didn’t know what two of them were, but the third one said ‘CONTAINS ESTROGEN’ on it. My heart fluttered, but I managed to convince myself that it was just a coincidence. But what about the other two? I wrote down the names and then I started hiking towards town, even though it was late. I got to that café twenty minutes before it closed, which was enough time to look up the mystery drugs.

They were both hormone drugs, used in male to female HRT. I suddenly felt sick. I felt the colour drain from my face. Was it just a seriously massive coincidence? Or was Aunt Fey drugging me and turning me into a woman?

I didn’t drink a mug of coffee that evening, and I didn’t drink one the next morning either, even though Aunt Fey kept telling me that I looked tired. “You’ll be able to focus better at school if you have some coffee she said.” I didn’t even eat the pancakes she made for me. I just stared at them as my stomach turned. I was hungry, but I didn’t want to be drugged.

But what about my development? Would it just plateau if I stopped taking the hormones? Would my body return to normal? Was I stuck with a pair of small breasts forever? And what about all of the fun I was having as a woman? Was I deciding that I didn’t want that for the rest of my life?

My heart was a fluttering mess for the rest of that day. I had a terrible time trying to focus in class. I couldn’t stop thinking about my body’s changes. For the past week, while I thought that I was actually born a woman and turning into a proper lady, I’d entertained the idea of becoming a chick. I’d actually warmed to the idea of being pretty and wearing sexy clothes and getting attention from men. The thought of being a guy for the rest of my life wasn’t so enthralling. I didn’t like being invisible and I didn’t like being picked on. I liked having lots of friends and I liked turning heads everywhere I went. Was that so wrong?

It was wrong—because drugging a person without their consent is wrong, so all the results of said drugging are also wrong. I couldn’t continue being a woman. I had to be a man. But I still had to get through the school year, which was still another couple of months.

So that next morning, after Aunt Fey left to do whatever it was she did, I found myself standing with a mug of coffee in my hand. Maybe I could keep taking the hormones until the end of the school year. I could be a chick for a few more months, get it out of my system, and then I could go back to being a guy. The Internet seemed to think that there wouldn’t be too much permanent damage, as long as I didn’t take the hormones for more than a whole year—and a couple of months was much less than a whole year. So I downed a whole cup of coffee, and then I filled my large thermos before heading to my bedroom to get myself dolled up for class.

The coffee felt good inside of me, though I’m not sure if it was the caffeine or the hormones being welcomed back into my system.