The Other Perspective

MADNESS

When I open my eyes, the first thing that catches my attention is the hanging chandelier overhead. It's luminescent lightbulbs penetrates into my eye sockets, and in response I cover my eyes with my hand. With every strength I have remaining I push myself to sit down. The bed feels comfy and the scent of candles reaches my olfactory senses.
I look around the room. I'm in someone's bedroom in someone's home.
Shit. That disaster must have been a dream—a nightmare rather!
Still, that dream feels awkard and out of my typical imagination. Me transforming into a woman. It's like a poorly done movie. Imagine a dream where giraffes are tap-dancing on roller skates while juggling pineapples, smoking joints made from sandpaper and you're their enthusiastic cheerleader wearing a tutu made of spaghetti. It's a surreal circus inside your mind, with clashing elements that leave you waking up wondering if your brain is secretly moonlighting as a comedy club. A total insanity!
Now let's a set aside that predicament.
Where the hell am I?
A crowd of questions comes bursting out of this bewildered mind of mine.
Like what am I doing here? What happened to me? Where's Jordan? Why are my shoulders numb and my chest feels heavy? Why does this body of mine feels lighter? Why does the walls look unusually large? Am I still drunk?
I stand up to my feet, and as I rub my temples in my inclined head, I glance a large untypical body part of mine, and once comprehension comes to me, all questions vanish out of existence.
"What the fuck?" I exclaim, my voice echoing around this four-cornered room. I rush towards a mirror and catches a sight of the femine figure in front of me. She has soft, slender and milky-white arms. Her thighs are healthy, and her limbs, slender neck and pleasant face exceed the standards of stereotypical femininity. She has tempting modest breast beneath the thin satin nightdress, and curves in all the right places. She has smooth, long, dark, straight hair, with neatly trimmed bangs covering half of her forehead. She's pretty—no, pretty would be an understatement.
She looks like those webtoon girls that gets crowded by men and falls in love with an ordinary man as the story progress.
And she's...
                                                             ...me

“Kyle!” a manly voice I don't recognize at first comes from the room next door. He rushes inside, bursting out from the door, and our eyes meet.
He stands a tall athletic figure, towering over me, effortlessly commanding attention. He's easily over six foot, six-two probably. His muscles are well-defined, biceps strong and aesthetic, broad shoulders accentuates a powerful chest, and his arms, adorned with veins hinting at strength, conveys both capability and resilience. A trim waistline seamlessly connects to a well-toned abdomen, showcasing a harmonious balance between strength and agility. His chiseled and prominent features bespoke a rugged charm. His gray eyes, a captivating blend of deep, thoughtful pools, hinted at a reservoir of manly power.
He has the same eye color as Jordan. The same skin tone, the same hair color, but different size.
Wait...
He is Jordan.
An oddly different Jordan. I used to be taller than him, but now my scalp barely reaches his chin. He's at different level. He's at his pinnacle.
Our eyes interlocks for a brief moment, but his topless body, leaving only boxer shorts to cover his bottom, demands attention, and this mind of mine possess an overwhelming unusual urge to examine him whole.
“Kyle, you've...” his words trails, equally in surprise. His eyes slides down to the rest of my body, just like what I'm doing.
In this room, an unspoken tension hangs thick in the air, an electric current between us that seems to freeze time itself.
My heart beats violently against my chest, my ears are ringing, butterflies colonizing inside my stomach and a warm sensation caresses my erogenous zones.
This is bad.
This is completely not me!

“Wh-what happened to your...” I try to speak, but my brain feels like it's experiencing a reboot.
I have no idea what to say, and if I do, I still won't be able to say it coherently.
“Great. It looks like the two subjects are now conscious. How are the two of you feeling?” a monotone, narrating robotic voice echoes.
“What have you done? You turn us into something out of our desire. This is inhumane. Turn us back to normal!” Jordan's strong and masculine voice responds, whilst I remain in his shadow still astonished.
“We have tailored both of you to align with the innate characteristics of your respective bodies. Your friend, owing to his race and adherence to traditional grooming practices, naturally exhibited soft and feminine features. Through our interventions, we have transformed him into an exemplary female figure, one that exceeds the ideals of an average man, yourself included,” the voice responds.
“What?” Jordan questions. Our eyes meet for a moment as we digest what they mean.
“You heard us right the first time. We have identified your individual preferences, encompassed your likes, dislikes, interests, and your criteria for an ideal female figure. The individual crafted for you is precisely the embodiment of your masculine inclinations and desires.”
I swallow hard, knowing I'm a byproduct of Jordan's fantasy.
I'm flattered.
Something I shouldn't be.
“Regarding you, Jordan Phillips, it is evident that you have evolved into an exemplary male embodiment, may it be in physical, emotional, and mental attributes. Notably, we have orchestrated modifications in the functioning of your cognitive faculties, making the two of you an optimal pairing for this experiment. In alignment with our objectives, you are strategically positioned together in an environment characterized by the utmost quality and ambiance. The perfect place to breed,” the aliens adds.
I look at the surrounding. The lighting is soft, warm and soothing, emanated from carefully placed lamps and candles. The warm colors of the walls also adds a comfortable ambience, accompanied by that gentle and quiet jazz. The walls begins to reshape, turning into full windows that exhibits city lights below and the rain drops and humidity makes it look blurry. The bed also looks comfortable. It looks like it's made out of fluffy clouds. I suddenly have the urge to throw myself at it.
“You may now proceed,” the voice narrates.
“Are you out of your goddamn minds? You can't just alter our bodies and force us to breed. We're humans capable of making our own decisions. We're not toys. We're not experiments. Get us out of here!” I finally got my strength back to protest. Transforming into a woman is a nightmare alone and I have had enough!
“We have Anticipated this potential conflict right from the beginning. It was evident from the outset that your participation in this experiment might be a challenge. To address this, we have devised a strategy involving the augmentation of your female hormones,” the voice states.
“What? What are you talking about—” All of a sudden my legs becomes weak and fragile, feeling like jellies. I collapse into the floor. My heart feels like it's about to explode, my eyes are lacking focus and the ringing in my ear increases. My body is in fever and my stomach feels weird. My new acquired nipples are aching and erected, and the body part between my legs is warm and damp.
I don't know what to do. This is more intense than when I'm aroused as a man. This is too much for me to handle. I want to itch something, I want to massage something, I want this agony in me to end.
How can I end it?
“Kyle, are you okay?” Jordan rushes in from behind, and once his hand makes contact with my shoulder, a voluntary gasp escapes.
WHAT THE FUCK!
Did my body just react to Jordan's touch? What the fuck is happening!
Out of concern, Jordan hurles me around, turning me to face him. He does this effortlessly.
Something just snaps and our eyes lock in shared understanding.
I watch as his eyes glides down to my chest, arousing me even more. Time seems to stretch, slowing down in our very perception.
“I don't think I still have much strength to hold back, Kyle,” he whispers.

Neither do I...

He carries me to the bed and lies on top of me, our skins sharing heat. I can feel his erection waking up, pressing against my thighs which only serves to further increase the chance of me losing my sanity.
Finally, as if I've been waiting and craving, our lips touch. His tastes pleasant and manly. Like a dessert I so desired. I close my eyes, succumbing to this instant yearning of mine.
I wrap my arms around his neck as if anxious that he might somehow withdraw.
He pins himself against me, his warm hands exploring every flesh available. One hand colonize what's beneath the satin dress, making its way to my breast. He cups it and initially begins making small circles around my nipple, and the overwhelming ecstasy leaves my mind no room for rational thoughts.
My body yearns for his touch, his warmth, his sweat, and every small details of his muscles are forever engraved in my mind.
He withdraws and inches his face down to my breast. He puts one nipple between his lips and that's when I lose it.
It's like being catapulted into a universe of ecstasy, where every touch sends shockwaves of pleasure that could rival a supernova. A sensation so intense, it feels as if time itself has taken a backseat, and you're riding a euphoric comet through the cosmos. Being in cloud 9 would sound like an understatement compared to what I'm feeling right now.
“D-don’t make me w-wait,” I manage to say as I caress my soak and heating vagina.
Jordan did not fail me.

As the intimacy, or whatsoever this unsual ritual one may call, progress, he finally gets rid of my agony. He whips out his tool. Big, hard and veiny, and when I mean big, I don't mean long or large. I mean wide, his girth is wide, and the size is over seven inches.
He slowly inserts it inside me and we slip together perfectly like a puzzle fit together.
My mind just explodes at this instant, and when he finally begins to move, I've reached a state not frequented by humans.
He begins to thrust, slowly at first, until he gradually increases the speed, and whilst doing so, he continues sucking my nipples and rubbing my clitoris.
I don't know what happens afterwards.
What I can recall is we did it several times in different position, each having no different intensity of pleasure than the other.
He comes plenty of times, bursting out on several parts of my body.
He fucks me properly like how a woman wants to be fucked, and whenever I moan and makes a sound,
he fucks me harder.