Body-Mod

I’ve always liked things that hurt.

Not the sloppy, impulsive kind of pain—punching walls when I’m pissed or picking at old cuts until they bleed fresh. I like it precise. Controlled. I like the exact moment someone realizes they’ve gone too far, when their eyes go wide because the pain isn’t fading, isn’t blurring into something bearable. I like watching the body betray the mind. I like being the one who makes that happen.

I never crossed the line into hurting people who didn’t ask for it. That was the rule I set for myself. Instead I found women (and a couple of times, men) online who typed things like “make it hurt” or “don’t stop even if I cry.” We’d meet in cheap motels or empty basements. I’d tie them carefully—always carefully—then spend hours working nerves until they screamed in ways that weren’t quite words anymore. I’d edge them with clamps, with wax, with my hands, until tears ran and their bodies shook and they came hard from pain alone. That was the part I lived for: the betrayal. The moment their own flesh turned traitor and said yes when their brain was begging no.

I didn’t think of myself as cruel. Cruelty is careless. I was methodical. Surgical.

After high school I drifted. Warehouse shifts. Half-finished community college classes. Late nights on forums where people traded stories that got darker and more permanent with every thread. Regular bondage stopped doing it for me. Impact play was better, but still not enough. I wanted something irreversible. Something that would rewrite who a person was, turn them into a creature defined by craving and sensation. I wanted to sculpt someone until they existed only for the next hit of pain or pleasure, until the line between the two disappeared.

I never found the right person willing to go all the way. The ones who talked a big game online always vanished when I brought up branding, surgical implants, hormone regimens pushed past safe limits. They wanted the fantasy. I wanted the reality.

That’s when I started imagining doing it to myself.

I didn’t hate being a man. I liked my cock. I liked the thrust, the weight of pinning someone down, watching their eyes roll back while I fucked them senseless. But the idea of turning the blade inward—of forcing my own body to crave things it was never built for—set something vicious and bright alight inside me. What if I could become both the perfect victim and the perfect tormentor? What if I could trap myself in a loop of escalating need, growing more desperate, more obscene, with every step? The thought alone was enough to make me hard.

I laughed at myself sometimes. It was sick. But the laughter never lasted.

By twenty I’d saved enough from warehouse paychecks and some lucky crypto trades to start over. I applied to a big state university halfway across the country—large enough to vanish in, small enough that word could spread if I wanted it to. I put Biology on the application. Pre-med track. In the personal statement I wrote about my “fascination with human plasticity, the way bodies can be molded, pushed, remade.” I wrote it in one late-night sitting, half-hard the whole time, picturing myself as the material.

I didn’t mention the part where I wanted to be the one remade.

The acceptance letter came in March. I signed the housing contract the same day, requesting a co-ed suite. The idea of thin walls, of hearing strangers fuck, cry out, fight—it made my pulse kick harder. I packed light: a duffel of clothes I already hated wearing, a laptop stuffed with bookmarks I’d never show anyone, and a small black notebook where I’d started jotting ideas. Chemical triggers. Nerve remapping. Dopamine hijacking. Half science. Half pornography.

Move-in day I walked across campus with the notebook tucked under my arm, watching girls in cutoff shorts and guys in backwards caps, already wondering which ones would notice me later. Which ones would stare once my body started changing. Which ones would try to use me.

I didn’t know yet that someone else had read my application essay a little too carefully. Didn’t know that a quiet team in an unmarked building had flagged the words “human plasticity” and “remade” and decided I was exactly what they needed.

I just knew I was finally in a place big enough to let something truly sadistic happen.

And I was going to make sure it did.

I was walking along on the first day of college, on my way to my dorm,

when I was grabbed from behind. I felt a sharp pain and that’s the

last thing I remember.

I awoke naked in a featureless room, my hands and feet restrained. A

bright light was in my eyes, and a woman’s voice was in my ears.

“You are an experiment,” she said. “We are testing certain compounds

we believe will genetically alter a living subject, and others that we

hope will have an effect on your physical structure and behavior.”

Another pain and I lost consciousness again.

When I awoke I felt different. The lights were out, so I couldn’t

see, but my body felt strange. Among other things, there was a

peculiar weight on my chest. The restraints felt looser, and I just

felt generally smaller. I struggled against my bonds for a while,

then I just waited.

Before long, the lights came on and I could see what was weighing down

on my chest. I had breasts! Not large ones, but breasts nonetheless.

Looking down between my legs, I saw what I dreaded: that the change

extended down there as well. My dick was gone, and in its place was a

pussy!

The voice spoke again, from nowhere. “You see the changes we have

Made. Allow me to explain. We have altered your DNA; you are now

a fully functional woman. Apart from that, we have caused some other

changes. Every time you orgasm, it increases your libido,

particularly your craving for cum.”

“What craving for cum?” I thought, but immediately answered myself.

As the thought of a big hard dick entered my mind, my nipples

immediately became rock hard and my pussy juices started to flow.

“Also,” the voice continued, “you’ll notice some interesting physical

effects when you come into contact with sperm. Have a nice day.”

I felt the pain again, and again became unconscious.

I woke up in what I assumed was my dorm. I had never seen it, as I

was on my way there for the first time when I was kidnapped.

“Wow, what a weird dream,” I thought to myself. As I sat up, I felt

my breasts shift and realized it was not a dream. I looked around and

concluded that whoever my roommate was, he or she was not here, which

was fortunate as I was still completely naked. I got up and went to

the bathroom that connected the room to the other one in the suite,

locking both doors.

I examined myself in the mirror. Curiously, the first thing I noticed

was that I was probably about a full foot shorter, perhaps about 5′3".

Yes, I was indeed a girl. Small breasts, but breasts nonetheless.

Blond hair, about shoulder-length, and a blond patch between my legs.

I sat on the edge of the tub and spread my legs to examine that patch

a little closer.

I pulled the lips apart and saw what looked an awful lot like every

other cunt I had ever seen. Inner lips, a hole, and the clit up top

with its little hood. “That certainly isn’t my dick,” I said to

myself.

At the thought of my dick, I immediately felt a warmth between my

legs. My nipples became hard, and my pussy started to wet itself. I

rushed out of the bathroom and covered myself with the sheet from my

bed to hide my nakedness from view, and keep from masturbating. I

decided to watch some TV to take my mind off of sex.

The only problem with that is that it made me hornier. Even though

they were fully clothed, my male mind reacted to the women on

television, and my female body reacted to the men. My sex drive was

MUCH higher than it had ever been, even as a 15-year-old boy. There

was nothing particularly sexual about the shows I was watching, but

they were making me more turned on than ever just from looking at the

people in them. My pussy juice was flowing and my nipples were so

hard they ached.

I started masturbating without ever thinking about it. After a while,

I just realized that one hand was between my legs stroking the outside

of my lips, and the other was cupping one of my tits. My whole crotch

was slippery as I rubbed my slippery finger against up and down my

slit. I concentrated on my clit, because it gave the most sensation.

It felt kind of like the head of my dick, but the sensations were so

much more intense. With my other hand, I explored the sensation of

stroking my tits. I rolled my tiny, hard nipples around with my palm,

then squeezed them. After a few minutes of this, I began to feel a

hotter feeling, starting in my crotch, but spreading throughout my

entire body. It slowly intensified, becoming this tingling sort of

ecstasy, into my first female orgasm. I could feel my nipples clench

up even tighter.

I lay there, breathing heavy, for a few moments until I realized that

I was still horny. I thought about how I used to jack off my dick or

fuck my girlfriends, and how I would be completely satisfied (and

usually sleeping) five minutes after I came. I still would rather be

a man, but womanhood had at least some advantages. Or maybe it was

just the effects of whatever had been done to my body; the female

voice had said something about my sex drive increasing.

The thought of jacking off my dick made me even hornier. I was taken

by a sudden NEED to be penetrated. I reached down into my still

soaking, hot, wet pussy and spread the lips. I slipped my index

finger into my sopping wet hole up to the first joint and left it

there for a moment, just savoring the feel of being penetrated. Soon,

however, I lost all control and slammed it in all the way, moving it

in and out as fast as I could, feeling my finger rubbing up against my

inner walls. It felt kind of like stroking my dick, but in reverse.

I put my middle finger inside myself also, finding that I was kind of

tight (not surprisingly.) My fingers were slipping in and out of my

new cunt, as my palm rubbed up against my clit at the end of each

stroke.

After a few minutes of this I came again, more violently than the

first time. I thrashed back and forth on the bed and started to

scream, but I didn’t stop fingering myself. Instead, I took my left

hand from it’s place on my right breast, and swished it around my clit

for a while, still pumping my hole with my right. That felt good, and

I kept it up for a while, but what I really wanted was to feel another

kind of penetration, so as soon as I had my finger good and

lubricated, I turned over. Supporting myself on my knees and head, I

stuck my little ass way up into the air, spreading my cheeks wide, and

while still pumping my pussy as fast as I could, I started to slowly

insert the index finger of my other hand into my asshole.

At first, it hurt a bit, so I took my time and eased it in slowly.

Once I had it in to the hilt, I started to pump it very slowly in and

out. My ass was even tighter than my (virgin!) pussy, so even using

only one finger I felt completely full back there. I pumped faster

and faster, realizing that this sensation was nearly as good, if

somewhat different, than the one I was causing in my cunt. I was soon

pumping my pussy and asshole for all I was worth, causing loud

slapping and squishing sounds that would have been more audible if I

hadn’t been moaning so loudly. The warm feeling began again,

centering both on my pussy and my asshole, and then I had my third

female orgasm.

I must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I remember is hearing my

new roommate entering the room. At least it was a girl. I was wet at

once when I saw her but I didn’t drag her down on the carpet

immediately and rape her, as I might have done had it been a man. She

introduced herself as Danielle, and I blurted out my real name and was

thankful that it’s Paul, if it were something more obviously male I

would have had some explaining to do.

As I said, as soon as she walked in my cunt was soaking and my nipples

were hard again (those things were perpetually hard.) That would

probably have been true no matter what she looked like, considering

the shape my sex drive was in, but the fact that she was gorgeous

didn’t help matters. She was an inch or two taller than I was (now.

I would have towered over her when I was still a man,) and she had

hair about two shades lighter than my new color, and longer. Her tits

were gigantic, there’s no other way to describe them (I found out

later that her bra size was an E cup, and she had trouble shopping for

anything that large,) and the rest of her was thin, but still with

nice curves and wide hips.

The only problem was that I was still naked. Luckily, I had moved

around in my sleep and covered myself with the sheet, but it was thin

and white and I was pretty sure it didn’t hide anything.

I was trying to figure out a way to get up and dressed without Danielle

finding out how naked and horny I was at the sight of her, when she

saved me the trouble.

She surprised me, actually. Most of the lesbBens I had met looked

like men, some complete with facial hair, so it never occurred to me

(in the first five minutes of our acquaintance) that Danielle would be

one. She wasn’t actually, she was bisexual, but I didn’t find that

out until later.

She came over to my bed and gently pulled the sheet down. Her gaze

went first to my crotch, which was glistening, then to my nipples,

which were starting to ache again.

“Thought so,” she said softly, grinning.

Then she took off her shirt, unclasped her bra, and lifted one of

those huge, gravity-defying tits up. I didn’t need another

invitation; I started to suck it. I had always loved breasts as a

man, and it was good to know that ONE thing at least had not changed.

I licked her nipple around and around, occasionally grasping it

lightly between my teeth. She moaned quietly as she unbuttoned her

jeans.

Getting up on her hands and knees, wearing only a pair of thong bikini

underwear that rode up between her cheeks, she stuck her ass in the

air and spread my legs. Going down onto her elbow (with her tits

rubbing against the mattress) she started to rub her thumb along my

slit. She was deliberately teasing me, just brushing the clit,

getting me hotter and wetter with each stroke. After a while, she

lowered her mouth to my new cunt.

If I had known how good it felt to have your pussy licked, I would

have done it to more girls when I was still a man. She licked up and

down the length of my cunt, like she had been doing with her thumb,

but her tongue was so much more slippery and plBent. She barely

brushed my clit, then pushed her tongue as far as she could into my

hole and fucked me with it like it was a dick. I decided that, as

long as I was a woman, I loved the feel of my cunt being slippery and

having it penetrated. Then she stopped that, and started sucking my

clit. This was too much, and I came.

When I was done moaning, I opened my eyes to see that Danielle had

strapped on a ten-inch dildo over her panties. I was of two minds

with regards to that: my male side was disgusted at having sex with

anything resembling a dick, but my female body was more than willing.

I decided that, since this wasn’t a man but only a woman with a dildo,

it would be all right. I wanted to be taken doggy style, so that at

least I wouldn’t have to see it, so I turned over onto my knees and

elbows, noticing as I did that my tits didn’t hang down to touch the

bed like Danielle’s had. I felt her move the head of the huge dildo

around at the entrance to my pussy to lubricate it, then slowly pushed

it into me. I nearly cried out from pain at first, as the largest

thing that had been in my pussy so far was my two fingers, but she

stuck it in slowly, going an inch or so and waiting for me to relax,

so eventually she had almost the full ten inches in. Then she started

to buck her hips slowly back and forth.

I was in ecstasy. Penetration was what this body was set up to get

pleasure from, and I loved it. My inner walls, having loosened to

accommodate this intruder, tightened again to maximize my pleasure.

Danielle reached around the front of me to rub my clit while fucking

my pussy. After a few minutes of this, I had lost my reservations

about seeing the dildo going into my cunt, and I made her stop and lay

back on the bed.

I let her lay there for a minute, letting our anticipation build, as I

kneeled next to her fingering my pussy and cupping one of my tits. I

was glad they weren’t as large as Danielle’s; breasts that big must be

unwieldy. Then, I straddled my new lesbBen lover and impaled myself

on the dildo sticking up from her midsection in one thrust. I

thrashed around on top of her, manipulating both my tits with my

hands, for about five minutes, until she came from the friction. I

kept going, though, leaning over to kiss her mouth and neck, and

rubbing my small, A cup breasts against her ridiculously larger ones.

Just as I was about to come, she pushed me off of her, and sat up.

“Do you like it in the ass?” she whispered to me.

I didn’t reply, I just grinned and nodded, and I got back on my hands

and knees again, but this time she put the dildo, even more slowly and

gently, into my other opening. This was a bit weirder for me, because

it occurred to me that I could conceivably have done this even when I

was a guy, but it felt too good to stop. I was so horny that I didn’t

notice any pain at all, and soon Danielle was ramming that dildo in and

out of my asshole at top speed. Again, she reached around to finger

my cunt, her fingers slipping in and out of that hole as her dildo

assaulted the rear opening. I came quickly, and she came again from

the friction immediately after. I wanted more, but Danielle was worn

out, so we fell asleep on the bed, in each other’s arms.