Neither James nor Miles had ever put much belief in destiny. As far as they were concerned, they were the sole power in control of their own decisions, and every choice they made carved out a new path for them that could never have been predicted.
Nevertheless, as they danced around in their new lingerie and smacked one another on the ass, as they admired their breasts and fondled their curves, to the casual onlooker it was clear that the night would inevitably end only one way.
The two of them had been best friends since they were kids, and having moved to university they had rented out a place together rather than have to live in halls. Having their own place had a world of benefits. For one thing, both of them had developed a habit of enjoying nights out perhaps a little too much in the last few years, and as such it meant that they did not have to worry about waking any flatmates up when arriving back home in the not-so-small hours of the morning. Even better, they didn’t have to share any communal spaces with a bunch of strangers to disrupt their routines.
But the best thing about renting is that there was nobody to disapprove of them lounging around the house in the bodies of hot, scantily-clad women.
It had not been that long ago that their mutual dealer had slipped them something a little stronger than weed, but ever since they had took their first drag on those fateful spliffs they had been unable to shift the craving for another. Their dealer had called it a Pinkie – his own little term for a spliff infused with ground up Pink Pills – and it was unlike anything either of them had ever smoked.
For one thing, it wasn’t the same as just taking the Pink Pill straight. With the pill ground up and therefore unable to deliver a fully concentrated dose all at once the physical transformation was a slow process, not to mention an unmatched sensory experience. The sheer intensity of the pleasure was enough to drown in, and accompanied with the effects of spliff the sight of their bodies slowly transitioning from one sex to another was amusingly trippy. It was as though the whole process was unfolding in slow motion, and over time they had found that simply lying still and savouring the process until their joint was spent gave the most intense experience.
Once they were transformed, the guys would make the most of their temporary new bodies. Masturbating was both strange and impossibly erotic in their female forms, and they had grown comfortable enough with the changes that once transformed they would spend hours locked in one another’s arms making out and using all manner of different toys on one another. After the first time they had made love with one another they had agreed that what happened while they were women stayed that way. Besides it wasn’t like they were having sex, it was the other versions of them. And they were two distinctly different people.
Over time they had grown so comfortable when transformed that they had even crafted alter-egos for themselves: Jen and Milly. The women were like a second skin, and they had even gone to the effort of buying half a wardrobe of outfits each purely for use after their transformation. Jen and Milly were always delighted to be able to play with one another, but fortunately for James and Miles the reduced dosage of the Pink Pill never drove them to seek any additional companionship as it were.
Now it was all too clear that this day was always destined to arrive. It could have happened on a birthday, or a graduation celebration, or even just a particularly boozy night, but it was always going to come around. As it was, the two young men had chosen a night out before Christmas to bite the bullet and just take a Pink Pill straight. After all, they had always wanted to go out as Jen and Milly but it was hardly a viable option given that they might change back at any moment once the Pinkie wore off. They both knew the Pink Pill would keep them transformed plenty long enough to have one Hell of a night on the drink. It was the next logical step to take in the transformative journey.
Having only ever smoked it, though, they could not have expected the side-effects that they had managed to evade. The ditzy giggles for example, or the way intelligent thoughts seemed to drift within reach but never quite close enough to catch. The incredible libido, the slutty whispers in their mind, the powerful new urges.
If anybody had asked James and Miles before they downed the pill, they would have said they never believed in destiny. They would have adamantly declared that their decisions were all their own and that they always stay in control of their intake. They knew what would keep them locked in their female bodies, and they knew that they would never allow that to happen.
But this was always going to happen. The two friends were always going to move beyond the spliff, and their naivety was always going to be their undoing. And they were always going to end the night willingly throwing away their inferior male personalities and embracing a new, altogether more invigorating friendship…
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