Girl Week

By Gregor Daniels

Ken's girlfriend, Ashley, doesn't see her father much. He's a government spy. Two years ago, she stumbled upon his suitcase full of disguises—women's clothing that transforms the wearer's body for the perfect fit. Since then, she and her boyfriend have made dressing-up into an annual holiday with three rules: no revealing their secret identities, no changing back for the complete seven days, and they are free to mingle and sleep with whomever they want.

But Ken's commitment to Girl Week will be put to the test when his best friend, Lawrence, unexpectedly returns from Afghanistan. He'll have to juggle his personal feelings and his body's desires as Lawrence starts hitting on him!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregor Daniels
• Release date: Jul 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463407677

Gregor Daniels

Gregor Daniels is an erotica author that specializes in gender swap and erotic transformation fetishes. New stories are typically released weekly and feature a variety of themes. Have you ever had fantasies to be a girl? Then look no further ...Contact the author directly on Twitter to discuss stories, share your favorite ideas and fantasies, scenes, and characters, or to just talk about nothing in particular.

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Contents

One

Two

Three

Epilogue

Copyright © 2019 Gregor Daniels

All rights reserved.

Only ADULTS beyond this point.

All characters are consenting adults at least eighteen years old.

This story includes: gender transformation, race change, and advanced government technology

1

This Sunday marked a special occasion. It was June 23rd, the beginning of the first full week of summer.

But Ashley and I had a different name for it: Girl Week.

Before we go any further, I need to get some backstory out of the way. Now I know what you’re thinking: But please, Ken, get to the part where you transform into a girl and have obnoxious amounts of sex with your girlfriend. Yes, yes, hold your horses! Paragraph after paragraph where I overcompensate for my lack of storytelling ability with excessive details about how my penis becomes a vagina in what might be called an absolute smut-fest with no literary merit whatsoever. I’ve seen those stories too. Trust me, it’s coming up. In fact, it’s in the next paragraph!

Ashley switched the vibrator on and gently guided the tip between my legs. The oral warm-up had made my pussy so sensitive that I could feel the air buzzing when it was an inch or so away, my lower lips just quivering and quivering as more juice—

Nope, got ya! That was last year, our second annual Girl Week.

She’s great, that Ashley.

Rocks my world.

And my pussy.

Which is amazing, no joke. Like I know all those stories are pretty cliché with how the main character turns into a girl and is comfortable with himself/herself in what should be an unreasonably short amount of time, and is getting fucked in every position imaginable in less than twenty-four hours after losing his/her junk, but as someone who has actually jumped that fence, it’s easier to cope with than you might think. When Ashley first introduced this insane idea, I was scared as shit, don’t get me wrong. And I think most people would be. Guys have a huge attachment to their junk—besides, well, being literally attached. And we’re scared of losing it. Think of it like having a dog. No matter the hardship—losing your job, a death in the family, breaking up with your girlfriend, whatever—you always have that dog, you always have that cute, furry friend to play fetch with and scratch behind the ears and shamelessly confess your existential fears to when you’re feeling lonely. Right? Everyone does that. So when you find out your dog accidentally ate some poison that a neighbor placed in your yard because he thought your dog was the one taking shits on his—

Fucking hell, I’m getting sidetracked.

Plot. As I said.

Ashley’s dad worked for the CIA, or FBI, or NSA—one of those three-letter federal agencies that everyone trusts is protecting the country with no expense to its citizens’ privacy (sitcom laugh track). Anyway, that’s not too important. What is important is that he was gone most of the time. And I really mean most of the time. Like it wouldn’t be uncommon for him to be away from home for months. The entire summer, even. He hasn’t even been home for Christmas in the last two straight years.

What you’re really interested in: Ashley texted me two years ago saying she had found this suitcase full of women’s clothing in her parents’ closet. Now, I’m still unclear on why she was looking in her parents’ closet in the first place, or why this was important enough to share with our NSA friends probably snooping on our conversation, but that soon became irrelevant.

I thought it was just some secret stash of her mother’s clothes—naughtier lingerie or whatever. But then Ashley was showing me some photos of the tags, and how all the sizes were wildly different. Like there wasn’t just underwear for adults, there was underwear for all ages, and panties from extra small to extra, extra, extra large, and bras from 28A