(18+!)
Blake Evans is king of the tennis court at Westbridge University...and he's also a prick, a womanizer, a player, and an asshole. He's touted as one of the next stars of tennis, building hype and excitement around the program with every win...
The boutique she chose was an upscale clothing store known for its chic, feminine styles. Blake's heart pounded as they walked in, his newly feminized body feeling more exposed than ever in the dress Savannah had picked out for him.
The store attendant, a mousy boy in his early twenties with shaggy hair and thick glasses, greeted them with a shy smile.
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"Welcome. Can I help you find something?" he asked, his voice soft and hesitant.
Savannah smiled back, her eyes gleaming with intent.
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"Yes, actually. My friend Brooke here is looking for some new outfits. Something that really highlights her... assets." She shot Blake a meaningful glance.
Blake's face flushed, his mind racing. Savannah leaned in close, whispering in his ear, "I want you to flirt with him. Get his number. Make him think you're interested."
Blake's stomach twisted in knots. "Savannah, I can't—"
"Yes, you can, and you will" she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Now go."
With a deep breath, Blake walked over to the attendant, forcing a smile. "Hi," he began, his voice wavering. "I'm looking for some new clothes. Can you help me?"
The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes darting over Blake's body. "Of course. What...what kind of clothes are you looking for?"
Blake swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. "Something... cute," he said, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.
The attendant's cheeks flushed slightly, and he stammered, "Uh, yeah, um, sure, yeah, I-uh, I think we can find something like that. Follow me."
Savannah hung back, observing with a satisfied smirk as Blake followed the boy deeper into the store. The racks were filled with dresses, skirts, and tops that screamed femininity. The attendant began pulling out options, his hands shaking slightly.
Blake took a deep breath and tried to channel any shred of his old confidence. "You know," he said, leaning in slightly, "you're...cute. Do you work here often?"
