For safety (Patreon)

I also made several short 10-second videos for this story - they're on the Discord channel for subscribers of the appropriate level ;)

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— Are you fucking serious right now, Jess?! — leaning on the soft bed of the rented apartment in the Denver suburbs, on Madison Street, I froze, feeling the sheet sink a little under my palm, while the strap of the damn lace bra dug painfully into my shoulder and for the third time in the last ten minutes slid off again, forcing me to yank it back with an irritated motion.

The guy in front of me—though it was probably more correct to call him a man now, considering he was officially thirty-seven—stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at me like I was guilty of every sin known to mankind. I knew that expression better than anyone, but before, when his face still had the soft, younger features of my girlfriend, it looked kind of cute. And now… shit, I hate to admit it, but it scared me, even if I tried my best not to show it.

— Couldn’t be more serious, Kyle! We’ve been in the program for a month and a half, and you… — Jess, or rather now Craig Riley according to the new documents, stepped closer and let out an annoyed snort. — …and you act like this is some damn weekend getaway. Seriously! You look like you just crawled out of a washing machine, you’re not even trying to look like Sarah.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight on my chest from my… no, not mine, just these tits, shift, making the underwire dig painfully under my ribs, making me wince and once again reminding me that right now I wasn’t me—Dan Stifler, twenty-seven—but Sarah Miller, a twenty-two-year-old “freelance interior designer” who’d recently moved to Colorado from Portland.

— What do you mean I’m not trying? Then what the hell is this, in your opinion, huh? — I glanced down, nodding at the red lace set I was wearing. — And anyway I didn’t even have to put this shit on… — I continued, feeling that damn strap slide again and doing everything I could not to repeat for the fourth time that “I work from home, I don’t need to dress up.”

Craig raised his eyebrows so sharply it was like I’d just confessed to torching his car.

— Sarah, — he said, putting way too much weight on that stupid name. — You understand that sooner or later someone might recognize you on the street or, if you still have to make online calls, — Craig went on, never taking his eyes off me. — Someone might recognize your face. It’s still yours, and let me remind you we’re hiding from serious people who want to get rid of us.

— Well, technically, your face didn’t change either, so…

— Are you an idiot? — Craig said it calmly, but there was clear sarcasm in his voice. — Do you seriously look at me and see the girl I used to be a couple months ago?

He stepped even closer, and now, with less than a meter between us, I felt the difference full force.

Jess used to be tiny, skinny, with a soft gaze and a voice that could calm you down with just the tone.

And now standing in front of me was Craig Riley — broad shoulders, short hair, a voice a tone and a half lower, even his gestures were straight, sharp. The face — yeah, familiar, the same one, but with obvious signs of age, which, even though they weren’t real and were artificially created, still gave the impression I was looking at Jess’s dad, not Jess herself.

I swallowed.

— I… — I started, then faltered. — Well, you’re still… you know… you’re still you. In some way.

— “In some way”… — he repeated, smirking. — Kyle, fuck. Sarah, I…

— Jess, what the hell, huh? We’re alone, why the hell do you need this “Sarah” here, you know this name pisses me off…

— …Sarah… — he repeated again, this time softer, almost tired, which somehow made it even worse. — You’ll stay Sarah until you learn how to get yourself in order.

I blinked slowly. Great. Again. That name, said with that new voice, felt like a slap across the face. I should probably defuse things a bit, otherwise Jessica won’t let go — I know her too well.

— Je… I mean, Craig… — I exhaled, tilting my head slightly, giving a small smile and softening my voice. — Okay, okay… just… — I leaned forward a little, still sitting on the edge of the bed, the thin fabric of the panties stretching tight over my hips, and at the same time casually adjusting the bra strap. — Maybe we just need to… relax?

For a second, his expression filled with total confusion, like I’d said something so unexpected his brain lagged — and then something like… anger flickered in his eyes.

— Relax? Are you kidding me? — Craig narrowed his eyes. — No. Just no.

I froze, lost.

— Wait. What… what do you mean “no”? You… you liked it, you were the one who always talked me into it!

Craig stiffened, staring down at me. His jaw tensed so hard the muscles stood out. He stayed silent for a few seconds, then very quietly, almost whispering, said:

— Because you look like… a guy.

It was like someone yanked open a curtain inside my head. I blinked once, then again, not understanding what exactly he just said.

— Wh… what? — my voice broke into a half-laugh, but the sound came out too thin, almost hysterical. — I… hey. I am…

Craig rubbed his face with his palm, like he needed to brace himself.

— Damn, — he muttered, guiltily looking away. — Maybe let’s just not talk about this? Let’s just… get you cleaned up, and everything will be fine.

— Cleaned up… — I repeated, feeling something inside me both freeze and flare up at the same time. — What. The. Fuck? I… I don’t get it, Jess.

Craig took a step back, his hand moving to the back of his head, his eyes darting around.

— Kyle… — he started, then cut himself off. Pressed his lips together. — Sarah. I just… want you to look normal. I want you to look like… — he hesitated again, frowning. — Like a woman.

Craig fell silent, as if he was suddenly scared of what he’d just said out loud. His hand still hovered near the back of his head, fingers flexing nervously. I sat there, staring at him, feeling a cold shiver crawl slowly up my spine.

— So… I don’t look like a woman right now? — I asked quietly.

Craig pressed his lips together, then slowly exhaled through his nose.

— No, — he said at last. His voice was even, but there was a painful honesty in it. — Right now you look like… a guy in a woman’s body and… it’s weird.

— Weird, — I echoed softly. — But… I don’t get something.

— What’s there not to get? Have you even looked at other girls these last month and a half?

I blinked.

— Um… well… sometimes? — I breathed out. — I mean. Like, no… what kind of question is that? You think I stopped liking you? Come on, Jess, that’s bullshit.

— I’m not talking about that, — he cut in sharply, but then softened his voice right away. — I mean… well… remember how you told me that… that you liked me, yeah?

He looked like he scared himself saying it. His voice trembled, his shoulders sagged for a second. I saw him staring at the floor, avoiding my eyes, like he was terrified of seeing the answer on my face.

— Of course I remember, — I muttered, feeling an unpleasant tremor under my skin. — We dated, damn it. A year and a half. Obviously I liked you.

— No, — he repeated quietly, — I mean what you said a week ago, when we… well… you…

— Something unpleasant jolted inside me. Shit. Was she talking about that night when I tried to calm her down after she’d spent the whole week listening to her new boss screaming at her, and I gave her… a blowjob… goddamn it… and then lay on her hairy chest afterward, telling her that I liked her like this… that, right? Or maybe not? I mean, I just did what she asked for… and… almost came at the same time she did… ugh! Why the hell did she even bring that up?!

— …when we what? — I finally decided to ask, feeling my fingers dig harder into the sheet beneath me.

Craig jerked his head up, and something inside me twitched at that look.

— When you said… — he stopped, swallowed, ran his hand along his neck. — That you like… this.

He spread his arms a little, indicating himself, and in my head two memories flashed at once:

1. The cold kitchen, a bottle of beer, Craig angry, frustrated, exhausted, and me trying to somehow break the tension.

2. My mouth sliding down his new shapes, still unfamiliar to me.

3. And my own words, said hot, fast, too damn sincere:

‘I like it. Really. I… I like you like this.’

It hit me like a punch.

— Hey, come on… — I tried to laugh, but it came out strangled. — I was just… supporting you. You cried all evening, damn it… well, you didn’t cry, but—

— I wasn’t drunk, — he cut in calmly. — And you weren’t. And you said it twice, even though I didn’t even hint at anything.

He took a breath, and that inhale sounded… strange. Like he didn’t even know himself what he wanted to say next.

— You said you like that I’m… stronger. Broader. That you like it when I’m on top.

His voice shook.

— And that you like when I… sound like this.

He deliberately lowered his voice half a tone, and something clenched hard under my ribs, my legs drawing in on their own.

— Jess… — I breathed out, feeling goosebumps crawl up my back. — Craig… I… you know that was… I just… I wanted to—

— Stop with the damn excuses, — he narrowed his eyes at me. — Just say it the way it is, that you’re into guys now.

My vision blurred instantly, like someone yanked the steering wheel inside my brain.

— What?! — I jerked up so sharply my Breasts bounced painfully. — What the hell are you talking about? I—

— Because I’m into girls now!

— HA! Wow, what a revelation, all girls are a bit bi, and the fact you finally admitted it doesn’t—

— I’m not “a bit bi”, Kyle! — Craig snapped so sharply I actually flinched. — I never liked girls, what kind of bullshit are you saying? I always liked guys, and now…

He cut himself off. Like the words slipped out faster than he could control. His eyes widened, as if he’d just realized what exactly he’d said.

— …and now what? — I forced out, feeling something icy and burning at the same time flare up inside me. — Finish it.

Craig looked away, took a step back as if distance could give him control again.

— Nothing, — he muttered, though his voice trembled. — Forget it.

— Hey. No. No-no-no. — I shot up from the bed, feeling the red panties stretch tighter, and the bra dig painfully under my ribs. — You just said you always liked guys. ALWAYS, Jess. And now… what? Now I’m curious.

He clenched his jaw.

— Kyle… — he warned.

— Sarah, — I mocked him, stepping closer. — You said it yourself. So what? Now you started liking… what?

Craig ran a hand through his short hair and took a heavy breath, like he was preparing to jump into freezing water.

— Now I… — he paused, pressed his lips together, hesitated another second, — …like girls, yeah.

— And that’s why you want me to… — I looked away, feeling heat rush into my cheeks not just from embarrassment, but from some insane hell-mix of shame, anger, and… something else.

Craig closed his eyes for a second, then lifted them to me and exhaled like someone was forcing him to confess under torture:

— For you to… look like a girl. A normal girl.

A shiver ran through me, and I was about to snap back, but right then — like on purpose — a small draft brushed through the room, touching my hair and making it shift just enough for me to flinch. My Breasts bounced, and from the corner of my eye I caught Craig’s gaze flick down at them. It lasted only a second, but I saw how his pupils twitched — and that tiny, fleeting moment sent a warm pulse low in my stomach. Fuck… what the hell is even happening.

I ran a nervous hand through my hair, as if trying to smooth it down, though it only got messier.

— Uh… so… I mean… — I started, feeling my heartbeat speeding up. — So now, to… like… appeal to you, I need to look like… a girl-girl? Is that what you’re saying?

Craig’s head jerked up like I’d slapped him with a word. For a second he looked like he was about to say “no”, but then something inside him twitched — and he just nodded.

One second. Another.

Then Craig twitched again, like he suddenly realized he’d said something he shouldn’t have, snapped his gaze away and muttered, much sharper than he intended:

— And anyway this isn’t… this isn’t about us, Kyle. This is… for safety. — He practically forced himself to say it, eyes darting toward the door. — If you look like a girl, like your cover story, there’s less chance someone flags us. That’s all. Got it?

It was way too fast, and I knew damn well that even if it was true, it wasn’t the main thing.

I lowered my gaze and stared right into my own cleavage — this heavy, fake, skin-pulling… Boobs. And inside me something tightened, like someone grabbed me from the inside with both hands.

For safety… Sure.

Right.

I inhaled slowly.

— Yeah, — I forced out. — I get it.

I wanted to — really wanted to — argue, snap back, throw something at him… but I couldn’t. Because the moment those words hung between us, something ugly and sharp inside me remembered.

I really did…

In these past month and a half…

Almost never look at girls. Never really notice them. But I did notice other things.

Like that guy in the parking lot lifting a crate with one arm, bicep bulging — and something twisted weirdly inside me. Or how the barista with a bit of stubble handed me my drink, and I looked at his fingers too long. Or how on a random evening in the shower I wasn’t thinking about Jessica… but about Craig. That voice, those shoulders, the way he talked lower. The look he gave me fifteen minutes ago, burning straight through me.

I clenched my teeth.

Shit.

Shit-shit-shit.

I drew in a shaky breath, looked up at him from below, feeling some fucked-up desire for all this to just end — and for him to… fuck…

— Fine… — I said, almost whispering. — I… I’ll try.

Craig looked at me then, and I noticed how the corner of his mouth twitched, like he finally let out tension he’d been holding the whole time — and somehow that made it easier for me to breathe too.

— You’ll really try? — he asked, softer now.

I nodded.

— Yeah. For… — I swallowed. — For safety.