Country Summer (Patreon)

— So what now? You gonna make me live like some village girl? — Eric spat out, feeling his breasts under the tight top bounce heavily with each breath. The fabric stretched even tighter, and with horror he noticed how the deep neckline mercilessly emphasized two soft, completely not-his rounded mounds.

— Isn’t that exactly what you wanted, DOLLY!? — Sarah smirked, tilting her head as if savoring every word.

— Don’t you dare call me that! — Eric screamed, shocked himself at how shrill and thin his voice sounded. High-pitched, girly, almost a squeak. He pressed his hands to his breasts, feeling the soft weight shift again.

— Oh, come on, — Josh cut in, lazily leaning against a wooden barn beam. — You look stunning. I bet a hundred bucks the local boys will be all over you.

— Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Josh! Did you forget who gave you this job?! — Eric nearly shouted, and in the same moment realized with dreadful clarity how ridiculous it sounded coming from a girl in a plaid mini-skirt with pigtails.

— Go ahead, order me to file a report too, Dolly, — Josh grinned lazily, and that word made Eric explode inside.

— I said — DON’T CALL ME THAT! — He clenched his fists, but immediately felt his nails painfully digging into his palms.

Sarah slowly stepped closer, staring right into his eyes:

— And why not, Dolly? Isn’t that your real name now?

Eric backed away, tripped on a bale of hay and almost lost his balance. His breasts jiggled so much he nearly fell, and Josh burst out laughing:

— Holy shit, you’re even blushing! Never thought I’d see you like this.

— I’m not blushing! — Eric blurted, but his face was already burning. He pressed his palms to his cheeks, feeling sharp long nails scrape his skin. — It’s just the heat. I’m boiling in this skin! Give me the latch right now, I’ll take this crap off, the one you forced me to wear!

Sarah snorted, leaning closer so that Eric felt her breath right on his face:

— Oh, of course, “forced,” Dolly, — Sarah dragged out the word, making her voice mockingly soft, almost teasing. — You didn’t exactly resist, just mumbled a couple of times that it was a “stupid idea.” But I saw perfectly well how you looked at yourself in the mirror. Especially when you ran your hands over… — her gaze deliberately lingered on his breasts, the corners of her lips twitching dangerously. — And by the way, don’t lie about the heat. The skin reads all your brain synapses, as you very well know, since it’s YOUR startup. And now I finally get why you poured so much money into developing this fetish suit.

— What? — Eric gasped. — It’s not… it’s not a fetish! It’s a medical project! For burn victims! For rehabilitation!

Sarah crossed her arms and smirked like she’d just heard the most absurd argument of her life:

— Oh sure, “medical”... — she almost sang the word. — Tell that to someone else. I saw your browser history.

Eric froze. His heart dropped into his stomach.

— What history?..

— The one where you stayed up till three a.m. reading that story about a guy who turns into a girl and then wears a school uniform. — Sarah raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. — You didn’t even have the brains to close the tab.

Josh roared with laughter, slapping his thigh:

— Wait, so it’s true? You actually jerk off to that shit? I thought Sarah was just messing with me! — He could barely breathe from laughing. — Jesus, boss, I mean Dolly, this is fucking priceless!

Eric felt blood rush to his face, and at the same time, a disgusting, completely wrong warmth spread lower in his belly. He squeezed his knees together, trying to stand straight, but the tights stretched uncomfortably, and the skirt slid against his thighs as if mocking his helplessness.

— Shut up, Josh! — burst out of him, but the thin girly voice sounded so pitiful that Josh only laughed harder.

— Just look at yourself! — Josh rasped, wiping away tears. — Looks like you got what you really wanted, not revenge. This is your dream, isn’t it? So basically, me and Sarah… we just gave you a damn holiday!

— A holiday?! — Eric was choking, feeling his breasts tremble again with each breath. — You think I’m supposed to thank you for this humiliation?

Sarah tilted her head to the side.

— Well-l-l, not just us. Mister Handley is insanely happy that his sweet granddaughter Dolly, the one he’s never met in his whole life but heard so much about from his late daughter, is finally going to live with him — Sarah said with sickly-sweet delight.

— Wh… what? — Eric stared at her, not believing his ears. — What granddaughter? What Mister Handley?

— Your new grandpa, Dolly, — Sarah winked with the most shameless expression. — He’s already sitting on the porch waiting for you with lemonade. Such a touching moment, isn’t it? A real reunited family.

Josh snorted, barely holding back laughter:

— Jesus, Sarah, that’s brilliant. I honestly thought you just slipped him some money. But that old donkey really believes his granddaughter came to stay. How the hell did you pull it off? — Josh asked with undisguised curiosity.

With lazy pleasure, Sarah ran her finger along the chain on her neck and squinted:

— Very simple, Josh. Mister Handley is old, half-deaf, and lonely as hell. When I showed him a few pictures of a girl who looks just like this one… — she nodded meaningfully at Eric, frozen in a ridiculous pose with his arms stretched out — he was moved to tears. Said he’s ready to accept his granddaughter, even if he’d never heard of her before.

Eric opened his mouth but couldn’t force a word out. His head was buzzing.

— You… you set me up with some… old man?! — he finally spat, feeling the tights tugging at his thighs as he stepped forward. — Are you out of your mind, Sarah?!

Josh smirked, lazily chewing on a piece of straw:

— Out of her mind? She’s fucking brilliant. The old guy’s touched to the core. He keeps saying, “Dolly is the spitting image of my Catherine when she was young.” You should’ve seen the shine in his eyes. One more minute and he’ll be crying on his knees from happiness.

— Fuck you! — Eric shouted, but it still came out weak and girly. He felt his chest tighten, and the skirt dangerously lifted as he jerked his arm. — I’m not playing in this stupid comedy!

Sarah tilted her head to the side, as if savoring every second of his helplessness.

— Do you even have a choice, Dolly? — she dragged out the name, stretching the syllables like she was tasting them. — Like it or not, Mister Handley is convinced you’re his granddaughter. And you know… he doesn’t give a damn that you’ve got no documents, no money, not even a proper story. To him, you’re Dolly Ann Handley, a college girl who came here… to hide.

Eric blinked in confusion, not understanding.

— Hide… from who?

Sarah flashed a predatory smile, exchanging a glance with Josh:

— From bad company. From a boyfriend who, and I quote, “forced you to do terrible things.” — She leaned in closer, almost brushing his face. — While we, your dear friends, were driving you to him, you got piss drunk and passed out.

— While we, your friends, were bringing you to him, you got piss drunk and passed out, — Sarah went on with poisonous tenderness, as if telling a bedtime story. — I told grandpa you’d just cried too much and were exhausted. To him, it looked touching and convincing.

Eric jerked, his fists tightening, but that only stretched the fabric of the top even more, emphasizing the curves of his breasts.

— I didn’t drink! You… you spiked me with something?!

Josh spread into a smug grin:

— Well, how else were we supposed to get you here? You’d never agree on your own. This way — bam, and you’re already playing the role of beloved granddaughter.

Eric went pale, feeling the tights rubbing under his knees, and squeezed his thighs together.

— You… you’re fucking insane! — Eric burst out, feeling everything inside him pulled tight like a string about to snap.

— Dolly Ann Handley! God! You woke up! — came a raspy voice from the porch.

Eric spun around and saw a gray-haired man in a plaid shirt and worn jeans. His face was wrinkled, his eyes shining wet with joy. Leaning on a cane, the old man slowly rose from the bench.

— And what were those words I just heard? — he frowned, staring straight at Eric. — In my house, girls don’t talk like that.

— I… — Eric faltered, staring at him stupidly. His breasts lifted noticeably under the top as he sucked in a sharp breath.

— Grandpa Handley, — Sarah cut in softly, instantly changing her tone, slipping into the role of a caring friend. — Please don’t be angry with her. Dolly’s just overwhelmed after the trip… and after everything she’s been through.

— Oh, I understand, in the city young people often forget about decency… — the old man sighed heavily, stepping closer and lifting his eyes to the sky. — But here, on Handley Farm, it’s different. Here we pray before meals, respect our elders, and… — his gaze lingered on Eric’s breasts, where the golden cross gleamed faintly in the sunlight, — we wear the symbols of faith with pride, not for show.

Eric shrank back, as if that gaze burned him worse than the heat. The skirt barely covered his thighs, the tights stretched so tight that every move felt unnecessary and indecent.

— But I’m so glad to see you, my little granddaughter! — suddenly, as if someone flipped a switch, the old man’s face lit up. He took two hesitant steps toward Eric and stretched out his hands. — Come here, Dolly… let your grandpa hug you.

Eric froze like he was nailed to the ground. His heart pounded so hard he feared everyone could hear it. The top pressed uncomfortably against his breasts, each heavy drop of sweat sliding down the curves of his new body. The old man’s gaze was so sincere, so unbearably tender, that it twisted Eric’s insides.

— I… — Eric managed to squeeze out, stepping back.

— Now, now, granddaughter, don’t be stubborn, — Mister Handley’s voice softened, almost trembling. — I’ve waited so many years for this moment. Ever since Catherine passed… I never hoped to see anyone from the family again. And now here you are.

Sarah stepped forward, laying her hand on Eric’s shoulder and gently pushing him toward the old man.

— Dolly, — she said with sickly sweetness. — Hug your grandpa. He’s been missing you his whole life.

Eric jerked his head toward Sarah, whispering through clenched teeth:

— Are you insane? I can’t!..

But the old man had already taken the final step, and his rough, calloused hands closed around Eric’s waist. He pulled him close, and Eric’s breasts pressed helplessly against the old man’s plaid shirt.

— God, how fragile you are, — Mister Handley whispered, smelling of hay, tobacco, and old wood. — Just like your mother in her youth. The same braids… the same eyes.

Eric gasped from the feel of those hands. Heat spread across his skin, his legs betrayed him, bending under the weight of it. His skirt snagged against the rough denim of the old man’s jeans, and Eric felt with horror how the top crumpled under the pressure, outlining his breasts even more.

— Grampa… — his voice cracked, too high, too soft. — Please, let me go…

But the old man only held him tighter.

— Shhh, Dolly, it’s all right. Don’t cry. You’re home now. Nobody will hurt you here. You have a family again.

Sarah smiled, as if savoring every second, and behind them Josh snorted into his palm, trying not to burst out laughing.

And Eric, trapped in the old man’s embrace, suddenly realized: he had no passport, no money, not even clothes besides this ridiculous outfit. Everything — was in Sarah’s hands. And here, in this godforsaken corner of America, everyone already believed he was the “sweet granddaughter.”