Ungrateful Humans (Patreon)

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Oh, why, damn it, why is it always like this? I did exactly what they wanted, and instead of gratitude I get this same stupid, human, petty mess that’s already making my head spin.

Alright, stop grabbing your tits like they’re something horrifying, John! You were the one shouting when you were walking around Pattaya with your sailor buddies, "I don’t want to go back to my ship! I want to stay here forever in this paradise with these girls!" You said it, didn’t you? You did. And pretty damn loudly too. Loud enough for even me to hear.

And I gave you even more! You, Jonathan Miller, didn’t just stay in Thailand. You are literally one of the locals now, you don’t have to think about visas, about where to live, you even know the language like it’s your native one! Yeah, now your name is Noong Sirapon! Beautiful name, by the way. And not just the name, John, you now have a body you never even dreamed of in your wettest fantasies.

Ah, Noong, I hope at least you’ll be more satisfied when you wake up among sailors on an American ship, because honestly, I’m starting to wonder if it’s even worth granting human wishes at all. Although, I think you’ll be grateful. After all, you begged, you begged so much for the tourists to finally stop groping your ass in that “Golden Orchid” club, for manager Somchai to stop forcing you to hit your daily quota with sex clients, to stop constantly feeling like a piece of meat whose ass has a life of its own, and whose back aches so badly by evening that you just want to lie down and not get up. Well, Noong, congratulations. Now you get to see for yourself what it’s like to be a big American sailor named John Miller, whose uniform stinks, whose back hurts from deck work, and whom nobody grabs by the hips every five minutes.

"This… this is some kind of nightmare! THIS CAN’T BE REAL!" John’s high-pitched voice, now in Thai, cut straight into my ear.

"Why are you screaming like that?" I muttered irritably, rubbing my temple with two fingers, because his panicked screech stabbed into my head like a needle.

I looked at the floating cloud where the dressing room still lingered, and inside it the terrified Noong, or rather already John in Noong’s body, stood bent over in front of a chipped mirror, while her huge breasts swayed slightly, bumping into each other and clinking with the heavy nipple jewelry. Large, weighty earrings swung near her cheeks as she shook her head frantically from side to side.

"No, no, no…" she kept repeating in Thai, looking from her reflection down to her legs in a short sequined skirt. "This isn’t real… God… God, what the hell is wrong with my voice?!"

The dressing room door opened, and she jerked so sharply like she’d been caught doing something shameful, her massive breasts swinging heavily with the movement, making the jewelry jingle, and Noong immediately instinctively grabbed her breasts, only to try to pull her hands away from the unfamiliar softness.

A short Thai woman in her forties peeked inside, wearing a tight leopard-print dress and holding a cigarette between bright red lips. It was Madam Lalisa, the owner of half the girls in “Golden Orchid,” a woman whose face looked like she both hated the entire world and knew exactly how to profit from it.

"Noong? What the hell are you doing stuck in here?!" she snapped in Thai. "Your client is already waiting! Why are you staring at me like that? You high on something?! Have you completely lost it?!"

God, what a circus. Maybe I should help her? Maybe give her not just the language, but some of Noong’s memories too, so she at least understands how to survive here instead of standing there looking like she’s about to faint right onto those shiny heels? No. No, no. I’ve been through that already. Then people start whining even more. "Why do I feel her emotions?" "Why do I like spicy food?" "Why do I automatically sway my hips?" No thanks. Figure it out yourselves.

"Noong!" Lalisa barked louder and stepped fully inside, her cheap heels clicking against the tile. "Are you deaf? One of those sailors from the American ship is here again! If you screw this up, I’ll deduct everything from your pay!"

Hearing familiar words, Noong immediately lurched toward her, but her heel twisted and she fell flat on her back onto the slightly dirty tile, letting out a high-pitched yelp that seemed to scare her more than the fall itself. Her huge breasts bounced heavily upward and then dropped to the sides with a wet slap, the nipple charms clinking so loudly that even I winced.

"Ow! God!.." she said, offended. "W-what kind of shoes are these?!"

She immediately tried to get up, but first her breasts started swaying so much that her nipples brushed against the cold tile, and then as she tried to keep her balance, her ass shifted heavily and threw her onto her side.

"AH!" Noong shrieked, grabbing her chest, then her lower back, then for some reason her skirt, which had ridden almost up to her waist. "God… what the hell does she… do I… have such a huge ass?!"

I couldn’t help but snort, covering my eyes with my palm.

Well, there it is. It’s started.

To hell with you, John. Not a shred of gratitude. I don’t even know what I was expecting. I watched like an idiot, waiting for him to at least stop screaming for a second and say something like, "okay… actually this is pretty great, I can live here like I wanted!" But no. "Why is my ass so big, why are my tits so big, why am I a girl?" Damn it. You humans are… so ungrateful.

I snapped my fingers, and the cloud with the dressing room lazily curled into a thin silver ribbon, dissolving right above my palm. That’s it. I’ve had enough hysteria for today. I’ll wait until Noong wakes up, or rather John. And only if she’s not satisfied…