The next morning, the sun's first rays crept through the blinds, painting stripes of light across the floor. He stirred in Soo-Young's bed, his body unused to the feeling of soft fabric against his bare skin. His eyes fluttered open, and the reality of his situation crashed down upon him like a ton of bricks. He sat up, his breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. The room spun for a moment, a reminder of the tumultuous night he'd had.
The shrill ring of the phone on the nightstand pierced the silence. He stumbled over to answer it, his hand trembling as he picked it up. "Hello?" he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Soo-Young, it's Mom," the voice on the other end said, filled with concern. "You didn't reply last night. Are you okay?"
Baek Hyun's heart skipped a beat. He had forgotten about the message he'd read from Soo-Young's mother. He had to think fast, trying to mimic a tired but calm tone. "Annyeonghasaeyo, Mom," he greeted, his voice a little too high-pitched. "I'm fine, just had a really long night."
"Oh, my dear," her mother sighed in relief. "
The sound of the phone call was the only thing that penetrated the fog of confusion in Soo-Young's—now Baek Hyun's—mind as he sat up in bed. The soft fabric of the sheets clung to his damp skin, a stark reminder of the previous night's exploration. His heart raced as he tried to piece together a coherent response to his mother's inquiry. "I'm just tired," he managed to croak out, his voice still unfamiliar to his own ears. "I'll be over soon, okay?"
The line went silent for a moment before her mother spoke again. "Alright, but don't overdo it, sweetheart. Your health is more important than work. Love you."
"Love you too, Mom," he replied, his voice a mix of relief and dread. As the call ended, he tossed the phone onto the bed and slumped back into the pillows. He had to face the reality of his new life today.
The morning sun had fully risen by the time he dragged himself into the bathroom. The sight of his transformed body in the mirror was still jarring, but he had to admit that the allure of Soo-Young's form was growing on him. He stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading down his body, washing away the sweat and fear from the night before.
He took his time, letting the water sluice over his curves and the tender buds of his nipples, feeling a strange sense of liberation in the simple act of cleansing himself. He reached down to wash his new sex, the sensation of the water and his hand on his clit making him gasp.
After the shower, he faced the daunting task of choosing an outfit. He rummaged through Soo-Young's closet, his eyes widening at the array of short dresses. They ranged from flirty to downright provocative, and he couldn't help but feel a thrill at the prospect of wearing one. He settled on a knee-length number in a soft shade of pink, the fabric clinging to his body like a second skin. He paired it with a simple white cardigan that ended just above his waist, leaving his midriff bare. The dress was tight around his chest, showcasing the fullness of his breasts, and he felt a strange sense of pride as he tugged it over his hips.
The mirror revealed a creature of beauty and allure, one that made his heart race and his palms sweat. The dress ended just above the knee, a stark contrast to the modest attire he'd worn as a man. He stepped into a pair of black, high-heels that Soo-Young had left by the door, the click-clack of the heels on the tiles echoing through the apartment. Each step sent a jolt up his legs, a sensation that was at once painful and thrilling. He felt exposed, yet oddly powerful in his newfound femininity.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the outside world, and grabbed his purse and keys. The elevator ride down was a battle of nerves, his eyes darting to the floor, avoiding his reflection in the mirrored walls. The chime of the elevator was like the starting gun of a race, and he stepped out into the lobby, the heels of his shoes echoing through the empty space. The cool breeze from outside washed over him as he stepped onto the street, the fabric of the dress fluttering around his thighs with each step.
The market was a sea of people, all moving with purpose and urgency. The smells of food and the cacophony of voices were overwhelming, a stark contrast to the quiet of the apartment. He wove through the crowded stalls, his eyes scanning the rows of fruit and vegetables, trying to remember what Soo-Young would buy for breakfast. The tightness of the dress made him feel both exposed and strangely empowered, the fabric clinging to his new curves like a second skin.
As he made his way through the throngs of the congested market, the air thick with the smells of spices and sizzling meat, Baek Hyun's heart hammered in his chest. His eyes darted around, scanning the faces of the bustling shoppers for any sign of recognition or suspicion. The thrum of voices and the jostle of bodies was disorienting, yet he found himself drawn to the vibrant colors and tantalizing smells of the fresh produce. His senses were heightened in this new form, the fabric of the dress brushing against his thighs with every step, a gentle but constant reminder of his feminine guise.
It wasn't long before the inevitable happened. A lecherous old man leered at him from a nearby stall, his eyes greedily tracing the outline of Soo-Young's body. The man licked his lips, a look of hungry appraisal in his gaze that made Baek Hyun's skin crawl. He'd seen that look before, but never had it been directed at him. The feeling of being objectified was foreign and disturbing, yet it also sparked a flicker of anger within him. He knew he had to be careful; any misstep could give him away.
Summoning a polite smile, he approached the stall, keeping his eyes firmly on the fruit as he made his selection. The old man's gaze never left him, his lecherous stare making Baek Hyun's skin crawl. "Can I help you, Miss?" he asked, his voice a lewd purr that seemed to ooze from his mouth.
Baek Hyun's cheeks burned with indignation, but he kept his voice even and sweet. "Yes, please," he said, holding out a hand for the man to place the fruit in his basket. His mind raced with thoughts of what he would do if the man tried to touch him inappropriately. As he took the fruit, the old man's hand brushed against his skin, lingering a second longer than necessary. The contact sent a bolt of revulsion through him, but he didn't flinch. He knew he had to maintain the ruse.
With the shopping done, he made his way through the crowd, the man's eyes following him like a hawk tracking its prey. The feeling of his gaze on his back was like a physical weight, making him want to run. But he couldn't, not here, not like this. He had to be Soo-Young, had to act normal.
The market was a maze of narrow aisles and cramped stalls, each one more crowded than the last. The air was thick with the scent of spices and cooking meat, making his stomach rumble despite his nerves. His eyes darted around, looking for an exit, a place where he could breathe. And then he saw it: a small alley, slightly quieter than the rest, leading away from the main market street. He quickened his pace, eager to escape the crush of bodies and the man's unwanted attention.
As he turned down the alley, the sounds of the market grew faint, replaced by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from a vendor. His heart was racing, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He leaned against the cool brick wall, his breasts heaving with each breath. That was when he heard the footsteps.
They were slow and deliberate, like the man was stalking him. Baek Hyun's pulse skyrocketed, his hand clutching the strap of his purse tightly. He didn't dare to turn around, didn't dare to acknowledge the presence. But it was too late. The old man stepped into view, his leer now a predatory grin. "I think you dropped something, Miss," he said, holding up a plum that had fallen from his stall.
Baek Hyun knew he was in trouble. The alley was empty, the nearest help a distant memory. He tried to keep his voice steady as he took a step back, the heels of his shoes clicking on the concrete. "I don't need it," he said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "Thank you."
The man stepped closer, his hand outstretched. "It's just a little something," he said, his tone deceptively friendly. "For a pretty girl like you."
Baek Hyun's mind raced. He had to get out of here. He took another step back, his back now pressed against the wall. "I said no," he said firmly, trying to channel the confidence he knew Soo-Young would have. But the man didn't stop. He reached out, his hand grabbing for the hem of the dress.
Baek Hyun reacted on instinct, his body moving before his mind could catch up. He brought his knee up, failed to connect with the man's crotch, but managed to hit his thigh with enough force to make him stumble back. The shock on the old man's face was priceless, but the victory was short-lived. He recovered quickly, his grin turning into a snarl. "You little bitch," he spat, reaching for Baek Hyun with surprising agility.
Panic surged through Baek Hyun as he tried to break free from the old man's grasp. The dress's tightness limited his movement, but the fear that gripped him fueled his strength. He pushed the man's hand away, the plum rolling forgotten on the ground. "Don't touch me," he warned, his voice shaking despite his resolve.
The old man's grin turned into a leer. "You're just playing hard to get," he said, his breath hot and rancid as he leaned in closer. His hand reached out again, this time grabbing the soft flesh of Soo-Young's waist. The sensation of his rough, calloused skin against his new body was like a brand, searing him with disgust.
With surprising agility, the old man's other hand shot up to cup one of Soo-Young's breasts, his thumb flicking over the nipple. The sensation was electric, a mix of horror and a strange, unwelcome pleasure that sent a bolt of panic through Baek Hyun. He gasped, his body reacting against his will, the nipple hardening under the man's touch. It was a violation, a desecration of the sanctity of Soo-Young's body, and he had to make it stop.
He shoved the old man with all his might, but the man was stronger than he looked. He stumbled back, his grip tightening on Soo-Young's waist. "Come on,"
The old man chuckled darkly, his grip on Soo-Young's waist tightening, his other hand squeezing one of her breasts roughly. "Don't be shy," he leered, his breath hot and foul. "You're just like all the other girls, aren't you? Just looking for a good time."
Baek Hyun felt a surge of anger and disgust, his new body's vulnerability making him feel more powerless than ever before. He had to get away, had to find a way to fight back. His hand shot up, nails digging into the soft flesh of the old man's face. He screamed in pain, releasing his grip on her body. She took the opportunity to twist away, her heart hammering in her chest.
The alley was narrow, with no one in sight to help. Her heels clicked frantically against the ground as she tried to run, but the old man was too fast. He lunged at her, his hands grabbing at the fabric of the dress. It tore, the sound of ripping material echoing in the alley. Panic surged through her as she felt her breasts bounce free, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of her body.
His grip was like a vice, his hands squeezing and kneading her breasts with a vicious glee. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, his rancid breath making her stomach turn. The pain was unbearable, a mix of fear and anger coursing through her veins. She tried to scream, but his hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries.
The fabric of her dress was torn away, exposing her to the cold, unforgiving air. The man's hand slithered down her body, his calloused fingers brushing against the waistband of her panties. She felt a surge of terror as his hand reached for the elastic, his intentions clear.
With a frenzied struggle, she tried to break free, but he was too strong, his hand pushing aside the last barrier between his rough fingers and her vulnerable sex. His thumb found her clit, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the brutality of the situation. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of fear and a strange, unwelcome pleasure that sent a shockwave through her body.
The old man's grip was unyielding, his breath hot and ragged in her ear. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice a sickening blend of triumph and lust. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but all she could manage was a muffled whimper.
The world around her was a blur, the alley walls closing in as he fondled her ass, his thumb pressing into the tender flesh with a disturbing familiarity. She could feel the fabric of her panties stretching under his touch, the pressure building with each sickening caress. The fear was palpable, a living entity in the tight space, feeding on her panic and amplifying it with every passing second.
Her eyes searched the alley for escape, but all she saw was the grinning face of the old man, his eyes alight with a predatory glee. His hand slid down the curve of her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, a stark contrast to the gentle strokes he was giving her clit. The sensation was a confusing mix of terror and a betrayal from her own body, responding to the unwelcome touch in a way she had never anticipated.
He leaned in closer, his breath hot and putrid, his hand continuing its insidious dance over her most intimate parts. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You want this, don't you?" His thumb pressed harder on her clit, and she felt her body betraying her again, a spike of pleasure piercing through the fear.
Her mind was racing, trying to find a way out, trying to reconcile the reality of the situation with the person she knew herself to be. But the panic was too intense, the fear too overwhelming. The only thing she could focus on was the man's hand on her, the way his thumb circled her clit with a disturbing tenderness that made her skin crawl.
And then, she felt it. The unmistakable pressure of his erection pushing against her, straining against the fabric of his pants. The pervert boner was touching her ass, a grotesque reminder of his desire, his entitlement to her body. The feeling made her stomach churn, but she had to keep her wits about her. This was not the time to succumb to the horror, to let the fear take over.