Feminine Pleasures Read online

  Feminine Pleasures

  Feminization Anthology

  D.L. Savage

  Black Key Press

  Contents

  Copyright

  Makeover

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Dragged

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Private Party

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Spin Cycle

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  The Dare

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Virtual

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Bitten

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Trap Door

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  A Wish This Christmas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Girl Next Door

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  A Note from Dana

  Also by D.L. Savage

  © 2018 Dana Louise Savage

  Cover image © 2018 - cokacoka - Depositphotos.com

  Makeover

  1

  I’d had a crush on Jenny Matthews ever since my first day at high school. I remember the very first time I saw her: it was like something out of a corny teen romance movie. I was walking down the corridor, trying to find my way to class, when everything went into slow motion. My eyes fixed on the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen: bright blue eyes sparkling like precious jewels, plump lips as juicy as the most succulent fruit, long blonde hair shining like strands of pure gold ...

  Yep, when I saw Jenny Matthews, it seemed like my thoughts turned to corny teenage poetry.

  And as you can probably guess, unlike some teen romance movie, there was no moment where we bumped into each other and dropped our books, then had a cute conversation. Instead, all that happened was that I lusted after her from afar, never working up the courage to speak to her, for my whole high school career.

  In in my final year, my luck changed just a little, in the fact that I found myself sitting on the row directly behind her in math.

  Even then, I didn’t actually dare speak to her – as far as I was aware, she still didn’t even know I existed. But at least I got to stare at the back of her head, and sometimes her cute butt, too, which was always shown off by tight jeans and leggings.

  Which was just what I was doing, that Friday afternoon, when all of a sudden a loud male voice broke me out of my latest daydream about her.

  “Hey, Steve, are you wearing nail polish?” Brandon’s voice cut in, loud enough for the whole damn class to hear him.

  I felt my face flush beet red, and I sunk down in my seat, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole, as what felt like every kid in the room turned to look my way, including Jenny.

  “Uh, no,” I muttered, shaking my head and quickly tugging the cuffs of my sweater down over my fingers. But it was too late. He’d seen the specks of my mom’s red nail polish that I hadn’t managed to remove last night.

  “You so are, dude!” he laughed, pointing at me. “So are you transitioning now or what? Are you gonna start using the ladies bathroom?”

  This got a huge laugh from the class, while I shook my head and sank even further into my seat, trying to force away the sting of tears that I could feel pricking at the corners of my eyes.

  Because how the hell was I supposed to tell Brandon the truth: that I’d painted the nails of my left hand then laid on it until it had gone numb, in order to try out some stupid masturbation technique I’d read about on the internet, pretending that instead of my hand it was Jenny’s? That would make me sound even more like a pathetic virgin that the idea that I’d just painted them to experiment or whatever.

  “Hey, hey, quieten down in here!” Mrs Lewis said in an angry tone just then, bursting back through the open door of the classroom with the armful of xeroxed work sheets. “Brandon?” she added, turning her mean grey eyes towards his desk. “Do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”

  I watched on, holding my breath, as he turned towards me for a moment, his big dark eyes challenging, as if to say: dare me to say it again, faggot, before he turned back to Mrs Lewis and said in a comically sweet voice, “No, Miss.”

  But the worst thing of all was that as the lesson resumed, from the corner of my eye I could sense that Jenny Matthews was still staring back right at me, a puzzled look playing across her beautiful face.

  Great, I thought gloomily, first she doesn’t know I exist, and now she thinks I’m some sort of creepy crossdresser or something. Could my life get any worse?

  * * *

  The lesson seemed to take forever, and even though Math was something I normally enjoyed, today I just couldn’t concentrate. I was too busy stewing, wondering if my life was really over.

  You might think that sounds like an exaggeration, but trust me, Brandon Anderson had ruined kids lives over way less than some stupid nail polish. He was the meanest, cruelest kid in the whole of high school, and unlike, he definitely wasn’t a virgin.

  Every damn week, he seemed to be with a different girl – all of them smoking hot – and it just seemed to confirm that girls really did go for that whole ‘bad boy’ thing over straight-laced dweebs like me. In fact, out of all the babes at our high school, Jenny Matthews was about the only one that Brandon hadn’t had some kind of thing with, and it wasn’t for want of trying. But she’d always turned down his advances, at least as far as I knew.

  Finally the bell rang and everyone pushed themselves up from their desks – everyone but me. Instead I hung behind, taking my time stuffing my books away in my backpack, hoping that if I waited around a little, I could leave the classroom unnoticed. But to my total surprise, someone seemed to be waiting for me. And it wasn’t Brandon but Jenny.

  “Hey, it’s Steve, right?” she said, arching an eyebrow at me as I stood frozen to the sp
ot next to my desk.

  For a moment I felt totally dumbstruck at the fact that Jenny Matthews was actually talking to me, her cute face and piercing blonde eyes gazing right at me as she waited for me to speak, her plump glossy lips curling into a friendly grin.

  “Uh, yeah,” I blurted out finally.

  “I just wanted to say, don’t listen to Brandon,” she added, sympathetically. “I actually think it’s pretty cool, what you’re doing.”

  “Y-you do?” I stammered, unable to believe my ears.

  “Yeah,” she smiled back. “If you want to wear nail polish, why the hell shouldn’t you?” She paused, then added, “And if you ever wanted any makeup tips or anything, let me know!”

  With that, she was gone, leaving me standing there alone in the middle of the classroom, unable to believe that our interaction had even happened.

  Jenny Matthews had actually talked to me!

  I couldn’t believe it!

  Okay, so she’d got totally the wrong idea about what I was doing with the nail polish, so what? And as I finally made my way out of the classroom and into the busy corridor, I couldn’t help but consider taking her up on her offer ...

  2

  If you ever wanted any makeup tips or anything, let me know ...

  As I walked home from school that afternoon, Jenny’s sweet voice echoed around my head. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being deadly serious in her offer. But even so, could I really take her up on it?

  If Brandon ever found out about something like that, my whole life at school would be over. But at the same time, I reminded myself that there were only a few more months of high school left before summer break anyway, after which, I’d never have to see him or anyone else at the school ever again. And that included Jenny.

  My stomach fluttered with nervous excitement all over again as I recalled the moment she’d spoken to me, and I knew deep down that it was my one and only chance to have some further interaction with her. And despite myself, I began to hope that maybe, just maybe, if we spent some time alone together then – just like in my daydreams, where we hung out and fell in love – she’d see that I was different from the other guys ...

  I reached my house and walked up the drive, unlocking the door then stepping inside, listening for the sounds of my mom or sister.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Anyone home?”

  But the silence that answered told me that Mom must still be at work, and Annie hadn’t come home from school yet. Normally, I’d just head up to my room to play some video games, or maybe grab a snack then watch a little TV in the den, but that afternoon, a new idea began nagging at the corners of my brain, and I found myself wandering up the stairs and along the hall, in the direction of my sister Annie’s room.

  She was sixteen, two years younger than me, and in the last year especially I knew that she’d got heavily into clothes and makeup, always pestering Mom for all kinds of weird, expensive stuff, half of which I had no clue what it even did, and secretly suspected it was all just bullshit, designed to bleed more money out of girls who felt insecure about their looks.

  But now I found myself reaching out and knocking on her bedroom door, just to double check she wasn’t inside. And when there was no answer, I turned the handle and stepped into her room, feeling the excitement quicken inside me at the idea of just what I was about to do.

  My heart began to thud in my chest as I looked all around her messy teenage room, at the discarded clothes strewn over the floor and the cluttered desk in the corner. But in particular, my gaze was drawn to the dresser table by her window, where she normally sat to do her makeup.

  It had been years since I’d last snooped around my sister’s room and now that she was older especially, I knew she’d murder me if she found me in here. After all, what excuse did I even have to be sneaking around in here like this? But I reassured myself that I still probably had at least ten or twenty minutes until she arrived home from high school, as she often took a longer route in order to hang out with her friends.

  As I reached the dresser, I stared down at all the shiny tubes and pots of makeup, reaching out and picking one up at random, a long black stick, shaped kind of like a pen. When I read the side of it, I saw that it said liquid eyeliner.

  I eased off the lid, then tried out the thin black nib on the back of my hand, watching as it drew a pitch black inky line, then I stared at my boring, boyish face in the mirror, wondering what I might look like if I drew some around my eyes.

  I’d never been the most macho-looking guy, and at eighteen years old, I guess I was still waiting for the full effects of puberty to hit. Because while my voice had broken and my balls had definitely dropped, other things – like my body filling out and my face getting proper stubble – still seemed like they hadn’t fully happened yet, leaving me looking skinny and somewhat androgynous, especially compared to alpha male assholes like Brandon.

  But now, as I really stared at my face in the rectangular mirror of Annie’s dresser, I realized that my lack of testosterone might actually work to my advantage, and for the first time, I kind of understood why Jenny Matthews might have thought I might try on makeup in secret. After all, my face was kind of girly and pixie-ish, with embarrassingly prominent cheekbones, and a somewhat small, pointed nose.

  In a moment of madness, I found myself leaning in towards the mirror, then taking the eyeliner right up to my left eye. As carefully as I could, I drew a thin line along the bottom of my eyelid, followed by the top. Then I did the same thing on my right eye, too.

  Damn. It was a lot harder than I’d anticipated, and the line was pretty crooked – definitely not the smooth, sleek oval I’d been hoping for. But even so, I had to admit, even my crummy job really did make my eyes look way more girly, and I felt a weird flash of excitement as I stared back at myself, suddenly wanting to go even further.

  I put the cap back on the eyeliner, dropping it onto the dresser, then snatching up the first lipstick I set my eyes on, pulling off the top and twisting the bottom, watching as a glossy purple-pink stick emerged from its depths.

  Again, I leant in, opening my mouth in a half pout as I drew the lipstick first over my top lip, then my bottom. And as before, it was way harder than it looked, and I saw that I’d accidentally gone past the line of my top lip. But as I smacked my lips together then gave myself another long stare in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smile, as it slowly but surely began to dawn on me that, with a little practice, maybe I really transform my boring, boyish face into something ... well, pretty.

  If you ever wanted any makeup tips or anything, let me know ...

  Jenny’s voice echoed around my head, as I began to imagine us sitting together, hanging out ...

  It wasn’t the first time I’d let my brain run rampant with fantasies about getting with Jenny, only usually they’d been totally unbelievable – the embarrassingly unrealistic stuff any teenage boy might fantasize about late at night. Only now, I had a whole new daydream: that I somehow met up with her, maybe in her bedroom, and she showed me all the tips, tricks and secrets to putting on makeup, slowly but surely transforming me into a pretty girl.

  And then, once she was done and I was all made up, she found me so insanely hot that we began to make out, crushing our plump, glossy lips together in a hot, sexy kiss ...

  Just then, my thoughts were shattered by a sound that caused my stomach to drop through the goddamn floor.

  Because somehow, in my excitement, I must have missed the sound of the front door opening and closing, and instead, what I heard was my sister Annie’s voice, calling up from inside the house: “Hello, anyone home?”

  I froze, heart pounding, rooted to the spot in the middle of her bedroom, my face covered in her makeup, wondering what the fuck to do ...

  3

  I could already hear her making her way up the stairs when I finally sprang into action, dashing out of her room and down the hall to the bathroom, just as I heard her reach the top step. br />
  “Steve?” she called after me, puzzled. “Where you just in my room?”

  “Er ... no,” I called back uselessly, as I fumbled the lock to the bathroom door, my heart in my throat.

  “I just saw you come bursting out of there!” she continued in a voice that sounded both annoyed and straight up baffled.

  I took a deep breath, trying desperately to think of some reason why I might have been there. “I just ... thought you might have my phone charger,” I offered uselessly.

  “Why the fuck would I have your charger?” she shot back. “I don’t even have the same type of phone as you.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Mine’s gone missing ...”

  I waited, holding my breath for her response. And after a short pause, I heard her sigh, “Whatever,” then walk off to her room.

  The moment she left, I quickly dashed to the faucet, running both taps as I attempted to wash this stupid makeup off my face. And while the lipstick came off pretty easy, the eyeliner was a whole other story. It was almost as bad as the nail polish, seeming to cling to my eyelids like goddamn permanent marker, and I had to scrub and scrub to even get it to start to smudge away.

  After what felt like an hour, I finally wiped my face with a towel then stared at my reflection – my eyes now rimmed instead by red puffy skin like I’d just been crying – but thankfully apart from that, I finally looked normal again.

  But it was the weirdest thing.

  Staring at my boring boyish face in the mirror, I actually felt kind of disappointed. Trying on the makeup had been way more fun than I would have ever imagined, and now I wished that I could go all the way, totally obliterating my real face and transforming full into a girl.

  Maybe Brandon was right, I thought with a pang of shock.