Misguided Affections (Lesbian lovemaking, dick growth, Ftm, shemale transformation)

Story by gweh

Chris and Dani are two young women who love each other very much. Chris's a little fragile. Dani hurts her feelings. Awww.

What follows is Chris and Dani making up via some debauched, fetishistic, good-natured, happy roleplaying. Chris wants Dani to pretend she's a cute little guy, because Chris kinda likes cute little penises. Not as much as she likes Dani, though!

This story got away from me a bit; essentially, it starts all extremely sappy lovey lesbian love and has a full-blown sex scene to that effect, albeit one with a participant's vagina being insistently verbally re-classed as a penis. There will be real dicks, don't you worry. There will be dicks. But if you like lesbos, there's also that! Non-dick-having is limited to chapter one; it's also the shortest.

Anyway, yes, Dani and Chris might end up getting a taste of actual penis yet. The first chapter is very much a setup for a slightly longer, continuous story, one which involves a woman turning decidedly boyish for reals, and maybe another woman turning just a little manish. The futa/shemale bit's in part three and can be read alone, but there's a woman turning into one girlish young man you'd miss out on in doing so. It's pretty damn close to the dickgirl border itself.

Chapter 1 settles in just under 8k words. It's meant to be able to get you off by itself. There's an orgasm in every box! It's like some weird sticky sexual crackerjack no one wants to eat. I think you'll like it, assuming you're chill with lesbians playing with each other with only references to dicks to sate your cocklust.

Chapter 2 weighs out at 18k words. This is a big 'un. The meat of the story, as it were, is here. Featuring very explicit mental changes as a body and a set of pronouns get happily coaxed into very trappish male proportions. That being said, feel free to consider this female to flat-chested submissive shemale if you want; there's really no practical difference with the endpoint I have here, it's all a mental thing. All that needs changing is maybe some pronouns and one very specific paragraph to make it shemale throughout. Also feel free to change "trap" to "trans girl" or some sort if you wish, I know some people get a bit weirded out by the word.

And Chapter 3, plus this story as a whole, is done, taking its leave with 20k words, though the meat of THIS scenario isn't split like one and two were. Point-of-View has been shifted, a bit of time's passed, and all details regarding the previous entry are covered after the in medias res opening. This one's female-to-shemale, and very much so. What I'm saying is if you've only interest in women growing big swinging nutsacks while still remaining mostly (INSISTENTLY) women, you don't have to hit up the other two parts to this. You'll know everything you need to know.

“I really am sorry, Chris, you know I didn’t mean it that way.”

I sat on the edge of our shared bed, stroking the short black hair of the diminutive woman beside me, her petite 4 foot eight body occasionally juddering with small sniffs and sobs, her tiny chest still rising and falling forcefully against my own C-cup breast, my almost full foot taller body dwarfing her form. She was still a in a bad way, but was at least overall significantly calmed from the mess she’d been just a little while ago. I really did feel like shit about this; Chris, my lover, was sitting beside me, her wide brown eyes swollen red with the remnants of backed-up tears, and it was, at least in part, my fault.

Chris had arrived home from her Friday evening classes at the local community college later than usual – she’d sent me a message telling me she’d be a bit behind, apparently intent on getting her hair cut on the way back. I’d teased her about her unruly mane a little over the last few days, having been allowed to grow out unchecked during the summer months; Chris had never been known to get out much, at least in the year and a half I’d known her, and while I’d been more than happy to keep her wild unkempt head of black, slightly curly hair all to myself while she hunkered down in defiance of the season’s light, it did seem time to sort things out for the public, and she did tend to need a bit of persuasion to get those kinds of things done.

So, as I stepped out of the shower at seven, dried myself off, wrapped a towel around my ample breast, and entered my bedroom to grab some underwear and my onesie, there was no shock of panic when I heard a clattering at the door to our shared apartment, the jangling of keys, and the creaking of the hinges as it swung open down the hall. “Chris?” I yelled out the door, my voice chipper and fresh after my refreshing rinse. “I’m in here, babe! I just got out of the shower, be out there in a sec!”

I had flopped my butt down on the b

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