Moving In, Part 1 (Neighbour to Dream Wife TG) (Patreon)

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Jack Mackenzie

Matthew has recently bought a new-build at a new housing development, and is grateful to find a new pair of friends in a lovely young couple who are also moving in there: Benny and Patricia. But when Benny finds out he has Lumin’s Syndrome and that his body is becoming a woman’s, Matthew takes the opportunity to start twisting the transforming man into his perfect dream wife. After all, Benny has turned out to be quite the philanderer, so it’s purely karma, right?\

Moving In

An old show once proclaimed that ‘good neighbours become good friends’, and I was finding that to be the real truth. I’d recently moved back to Chareton, my old home town in the UK, after some time abroad working across the EU. I’d had my fun and fill and made some good solid money working on engineering projects, but I was looking forward to settling down and setting up my own local transport business, something the town desperately needed and suited my desire for a calmer life just fine after all the hectic money raising.

Of course, the biggest incentive to move was finally being able to have my own place in the form of a new-build at a housing development that had sprung up by my old favourite suburb. I was only thirty years old, but I’d invested and saved and scraped well enough, and while I wasn’t exactly buying myself the grandest manor, these weren’t exactly low-income units either. They were reasonably sized double-deckers with a neat backyard and good space to have a family, if I ever found a girl willing to settle down with me. They were semi-detached, so I’d be sharing a wall with someone, but provided they weren’t a massive nuisance I couldn’t see any problems arising. After a few inspections I put my name down and low and behold, my savings were impressive enough to secure what was left of the loan I needed to purchase it.

Suddenly, I had a home of my own to move into, located in my charming little childhood town, and with good prospects already on the business front with some of the deals I was making on the side. It didn’t hurt that my father, retired as he was, had good connections to help me get started. All that remained to make my situation purely idyllic was to have some fun, wholesome neighbours over for some nice tea and a Sunday barbecue.

And somehow I got that too. Lucky me.

Their names were Benny and Patricia, though she preferred to go by Patty. They were younger than me: twenty seven and twenty five respectively, and had secured their own loan around the same time as it turned out. I was just on my little front deck sipping a well-deserved afternoon beer after a lot of box shifting when I first met them.

“Hello there!” the man shouted. “You must be our new neighbour? Or, given that you’re ahead of us when it comes to moving in, I guess we must be your new neighbours?”

He was a peppy fellow, with bright blonde hair and a charming grin. He wore a smart shirt and pants, not the kind of thing I’d personally wear when shifting boxes and heavy loads around.

“I’m Benny,” he continued. “Benny Johnson. This is my wife Patricia.”

“Everyone calls me Patty, though,” she said.

I won’t lie, I was pretty jealous of the lucky bastard, because his wife was sure cute. She had mousy brown hair down in a cute pixie cut, and wore a no-nonsense sweat top and jeans as she clutched a box of ornaments in her hands. She gave me a ripper of a smile as I offered to take it from her.

“No need, Benny can do that, the lazy bugger.”

He sighed dramatically and took the box, but not before taking my hand for a shake, followed by Patty.

“I’m Matthew,” I responded. “Matthew Hoskin. Good to meet the pair of you. Did you need any help with your stuff?”

“Well, we won’t complain about it,” Benny said, “but only if you’re happy to help out a new neighbour. Wouldn’t want to get off on the wrong start! Besides, you look like you’re still unpacking a bit yourself.”

“Nah,” I replied. “I’m just being lazy and taking a nice chill afternoon beer.”

“Man after my husband’s heart,” Patty remarked. “You two will get along famously.”

“Do you like playing pool, Matthew?”

I grinned. “I’m literally putting a pool room together.”

“Ah, we’ll get along famously! How about beer brewing?”

“I must admit I’ve never tried it.”

“Ah, we’ll get you into it!”

Patty pushed past her husband in an amused manner. “You’ll get him into it! I’m a wine gal, myself. Don’t let him get started, Matthew, he’ll talk your ear right off.”

But in truth, I was happy to have my ear talked off. They seemed a lovely couple, exactly the kind of neighbours you’d want to have when you were settling back down after a busy few years, and I could already tell that Benny and I were going to get along like a house on fire. Any man that respects a good game of pool is worth time in my book.

***

We were all a little tight for cash, of course. None of us were struggling, but between getting my business up and running so that I wasn’t purely relying on my cash reserves, and them being in a tighter spot (Benny worked in sales and Patty in retail, but neither were in management), we decided to hell with it: let’s do a moving in party together! We invited our friends and families around - well, my family, they were new to Chareton - and it was a real fun blitz. With the extra space from the semi-detachment we didn’t even have to have everything packed away either. I introduced the pair to my parents and some local friends who could help them out and point them around, and they in turn introduced me to a number of their buddies from across the country, mostly from London and Manchester. Naturally, the conversation quickly descended into an aggressive series of opinions on the upcoming World Cup and our chances in it - or lack of.

More than a few people remarked on how lucky we were to have each other as neighbours. Patty made some terrific dishes up, and Benny was a class act of a host - I could tell why the man was in sales, because he just oozed charisma. I’d always been much more of a casual, laidback sort of gent, so I was happy to let them play the part of social hosts while I worked the barbecue. Benny dropped by more than once to keep me company, and the two of us chatted about brewing beer (he’d already spooled me in on that plan) and our future games of pool and sports sittings. Patty encouraged it: she only loved tennis, and would be happy never to see a game of football again in her life.

It was only when supplies were running low on meat that I needed to grab some more for the attendants. We were mainly located around Benny and Patty’s home for the event, so I had to circle around guests, reintroducing myself, and trying to find one of the pair so they could tell me where their meat freezer was - their regular one didn’t have the steak cuts. In the end, after fruitless searching, I headed upstairs towards one of their rooms. I wasn’t trying to pry, I just needed to keep the barbecue running, and while my old man was manning it there was a genuine danger of everyone getting their meat ‘well done’.

I was about to knock on the door when I heard sounds emanating from within.

“Ohhhh, yes! Yes! Ahhhh, d-don’t stop! Fuck yes, right there, baby!”

I won’t lie, I turned pretty red in the face. Two people were fucking in Patty and Benny’s room, and for a moment I was about to burst upon the door and lambast them. Until I heard what I assumed as Benny’s voice.

“Fuck yeah, honey. You know it’s so hot when no one else knows.”

“Mhmmm, d-don’t stop! C-cum in me! Yessss!!”

The moaning continued, and I could tell the pair were close. I backed off, feeling a bit shamed at the accidental eavesdrop, but also a bit amused about what was going on. I couldn’t imagine the audacity of sneaking off to have sex at my own moving in party, but there you go.

That was, until I descended the stairs and headed back to the deck, only to see Patty chatting with my father.

“Matthew, there you are!” she said. “I’ve just brought out some of the spare meat for you.”

I must have looked flustered by her appearance, because her eyebrows raised.

“Something the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. Where’s Benny?”

“Just running an errand, he told me. He’ll be back soon.”

“Ah, gotcha. Well, thanks for the cuts. I’ll get these going before my old man ruins the current ones!”

“Careful, son,” he said, though he was grinning as he passed the tongs over.

I continued to work on the meat, chatting with my old friends and family, and when Benny returned we resumed our conversations, and even made plans for a nice beer catch up the following night or so. But I couldn’t help but think of what I’d heard from their bedroom. The voice had sounded like Benny’s, but surely it must have been a brother or cousin or friend or something.

Patty was a total catch. Surely he wasn’t cheating on her. Right?

***

I tried to ignore the strange incident over the following days, even as it played in my mind. Benny and I continued to catch up, and while he did most of the talking (again, total stereotype, him being in sales) we still got on like a house on fire. We were already making plans to craft our own homemade beer together, with him teaching me his brewing skills. The tech was pretty easy to understand with my engineering background. We also found that we had a shared love of old war movies, and Patty got the night off to watch a chick flick with some new friends she’d made while we settled down for The Dirty Dozen. The pool room was being put together, and I was still setting up the table, but the formidable stakes were growing: our respective male pride was on the line, and Patty thought it was hilarious.

“I swear you two are destined for each other,” she remarked when they had me over for dinner. “I’ll be lucky to have a husband soon!”

“Nonsense, you two are perfect for each other,” I said.

At that, Benny’s cheeks blushed just a little. He recovered quickly. “Well, what can I say, Patty married up.”

“Oh, shush you!” she said, flinging a bit of carrot in his direction.

But as idyllic as this friendship bonding was, I started to notice some strange signs that pointed towards there being something else going on. I’d never thought of myself as the nosy neighbour type, or the kind to get involved in gossipping and the like. I’d always kept more to myself, which I suppose was part of the reason dating never came naturally to me. But nearly a week on from the moving in party I opened my front door to find Benny knocking on it, an impressive amount of beer under his left arm.

“Hey there, neighbour,” he said, charming grin twinkling, “up for some refreshment?”

“Absolutely,” I said, and he strolled in, a little more manic than usual.

“How’s Patty?”

“Ah, she’s a bit angry with me. I spent too long at work, and she didn’t like an interaction I had at a work party the other night. Thought I was a bit flirty or something.”

My interest was aroused by that. “Oh? You have a workwife or something?”

It was said with the cadence of a joke, but I tried to give it a bit of an edge.

Benny just laughed it off. “Oh, you know how it is, Matthew. A good woman in a pencil skirt and white blouse is a nice sight to see. I was just pointing it out. Really, there’s some very attractive women in the office and you’d have to be a cold-blooded lizard not to notice. But it’s not like I acted on anything. I just made a couple of jokes and it’s put me in the doghouse.”

“I see,” I said. I didn’t exactly share his outlook, but it didn’t sound entirely my business either, so we settled down for drinking. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to quite drop the subject.

“It’s just that Patty is lovely. Really lovely. I wish she’d grow her hair out again, and stop wearing those damn sweaters, but she’s so lovely. I love her dearly, I do. But a man can appreciate a good looking woman, can’t he?”

“Of course,” I said. “I would think any partner would understand that. Though I’d say you’d have to be careful and respectful.”

“Exactly! Discreet!”

“Well, I didn’t say discreet.”

But he was already on a roll, drinking down more of the beer and faster than usual. Christ, it was extra-strength too.

“So this Holly woman at the office, she’s a real catch. Single, blonde-haired, nice big tits, you know the type. So of course we flirt and joke. I never acted on it. I would never!”

Something in his voice told me he already had. If not with Holly, then someone else. I didn’t voice this, though.

“What’s your type, Matthew?” he said.

“Hmm?”

He looked me in the eyes, took another sip, then smiled like we were even chummier than usual. “C’mon, man. There’s no women nagging us around here. What’s your poison? Your pretty poison? I must admit I like the blonde office girls. I’ve had a dalliance or two with them. Before I met Patty of course!”

The last bit was hastily added. I narrowed my eyes, but he relaxed his face. The lie wasn’t hard to detect, but he had that kind of brazen confidence and charm that made me want to believe he was telling the truth. It was hard to even hold it against him. Damn, the man should have been a manager in sales. Maybe he just hadn’t cheated with the right upper management woman.

“Well, if I were to describe my perfect woman, it would just be hypothetical,” I cautioned. “I’ve not been in the dating game for over a year now. My last girlfriend and I parted on good terms, but she wanted to keep travelling and I wanted to settle down.”

“Sorry to hear that, dear fellow. Was she quite the looker?”

“She wasn’t bad. Real cute. Probably not my ideal type though, but who gets to choose that?”

He slapped me on the back. “We do! Right now! I love Patty, but I wouldn’t mind seeing some more flesh on that bone, in all the right places. C’mon, we’re men, Matthew! We get to talk about this stuff because the ladyfolk don’t always understand it. If you could conjure your ideal woman right now, the kind you’d beg on your knees to move in with you right now, what would she look like?”

I chuckled. It was a silly question, but who hadn’t thought of their perfect lady? I’m sure women did the same of men, maybe just less often.

“Well, I’ve always liked brunette types,” I responded. “I like pixie cuts, too. I think they’re cute.”

He gave me a smirking side-eye. “Don’t tell me you’ve been checking out my wonderful wife?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I won’t deny she’s got style.”

“But a bit too much of a stick figure, right?”

She actually looked damn nice, as far as I was concerned. Had a kind of tomboyish cuteness to her. Of course, I didn’t say that, because then he’d really think I was cracking on to her. So instead I replied, “well, I don’t really look at her figure. But I’m a red-blooded man as much as any other. I like a woman with some nice, er, padding in all the right places. Particularly on her chest. There was this one girl in Barcelona . . .”

We continued chatting, and the beer loosened us both up. Benny and I could shoot the shit no problem, and soon we were talking about past conquests and hot girls and the way we loved a good thigh gap, as well as that cute girl from the insurance commercials with the big lips that Benny said were, “prime for cock sucking, I bet.” It wasn’t, I admit, the most civilised and equal-minded conversation, but it felt like the old party days where you could just chat with your mates and talk about all the hot girls you’d banged, or wanted to bang, from celebrities to locals to the mythical ‘perfect girl.’ I might have gotten carried away a little, but God knows that Benny got carried a lot further.

“It’s just that she’s so clingy sometimes,” he said. “She doesn’t understand the pressure of my industry. She just works a desk job at a clothing store, which is great! It’s really, really great. But she doesn’t understand the responsibilities of a man, or a man’s needs. Sometimes a guy just needs to step outside for a little, if you know what I mean.”

“Can’t say I agree,” I replied, taking a sip of a cold one. “A man’s gotta be loyal.”

He scoffed a little. “Easy to say when you’re not shackled down. I love Patty. I do. But a man has needs, and that’s not always about love. You just keep what I’ve said private though, okay? You’re a good neighbour, and sometimes neighbours have these little secrets, right?”

I nodded. “Right.”

The conversation moved on from there, and we talked over other things and other plans. Of course, what he’d said didn’t sit right with me either. I considered telling Patty what he’d said, but I couldn’t be sure of anything, and there was no evidence. Besides, I won’t lie: I’d only known them for a week, and didn’t want it to be my business. Maybe I was just a coward, who knows. You don’t start issues with your neighbours that they can’t sort out themselves.

And indeed, they at least did seem to come together later that night. The detachment wall echoed with the sounds of the springs of their bed as the whole thing butted up against the wall. Thankfully, my bedroom wasn’t adjacent, but I did have to have a private chuckle and move elsewhere. If Benny really was cheating, he clearly still had lots in the tank for his cute wife. She sounded well satisfied, judging from the moans.

I felt more than a little jealous due to my own lack of companionship. I needed to get my own girlfriend.

***

It was only a few days later that the arguments started. I hadn’t caught up with Benny or Patty since that night, and was getting a little concerned that maybe I was being slighted, or that Benny realised he’d spilled more beans than intended. When I first caught the eavesdropping of an argument between the pair, I simply shifted away from the wall, knowing it wasn’t my business. But after the third argument, I couldn’t help myself, because the nature of the conversation wasn’t at all what I expected.

“There has to be something the medical community can do!”

“Fuck all. Fuck all, Patty. I’ve looked into everything. There’s nothing!”

“But Benny, we were going to try for a family-”

“I goddamn know what we were going to try for, damn you! You think I don’t know what this is? It’s fucking Lumin’s Syndrome, Patty! I’m turning into a goddamn woman.”

“But you were right as rain the other day, Benny. You went over to Matthew’s and-”

“And I was already feeling bloody delirious and sick as a dog. I was running my mouth off about all sorts of shit - don’t ask him about it. It was just . . . stupid stuff. And now this.”

“We’ll find another doctor.”

“This is three already! It’s just a quick blood test these days. Chance in ten million, and I’m one of the ten. Fuck!”

Sobbing followed, then consolation, then bitter words. I’d heard of that term before: Lumin’s Syndrome. Most people had, but only from weird stories on the internet or those sensationalist pieces they put out in the Daily Mail rag or the Sun. It was the condition men - and the occasional woman - got that resulted in their genes switching or something. They changed into the opposite sex, usually with mental changes and everything, including loss of IQ, though I was pretty sure at least one person ended up as a genius. It was incredibly rare, but with all the pollutants and plastics and issues with the environment, some speculated it was only coming about in recent decades due to human influence. Regardless, I could barely believe it. Benny, the man with a plan and a cute wife - and likely women on the side - becoming a woman himself? It sounded too ridiculous to be true.

That was, until he confirmed it in person when he came over several days later, another carton of beer in hand, his expression bloody miserable.

“You got the playroom set up yet?” he asked me.

“Sure do,” I said, looking him up and down. He seemed paler than before, and like he’d lost some weight.

“Let’s have that game of pool then. We’ve got shit to chat about, and right now Patty doesn’t want to see me.”

“Is this about what we talked about the other night?” I ventured, but he shot that down with a look.

“No, no. Nothing like that. Worse, really. I’d much rather I had to make amends for some silly action on the side than . . . Jesus, let’s just play pool. I’ll thrash you and tell you the whole bloody sob story.”

It was indeed quite the sob story, though at least there was no actual sobbing. Just some slightly teary eyes on his part, which he apologised for rather uncharacteristically. True enough, he did indeed thrash me, focusing on his aim and game as he explained that he’d been starting to feel a bit unwell ever since the moving in party. He came clean and admitted he’d cheated on Patty with her cousin during it, but that it was, “no real big deal. Just a fling.” I curled my lip up but said nothing, more than a little disgusted with how he put it. He’d assumed since then that he’d caught something off of her, and went in for some tests since his prick - he told me this honestly - was “feeling a bit funner, smaller and less active and stuff. Not to mention I’ve been feeling weaker, and more emotional and stuff, like when Patty’s on her damn period.”

But evidently the tests had come back a lot more damning. His results were concerning enough that three more medical bodies had to confirm it was Lumin’s, by which point he was refusing to cooperate with further studies that would be published, or any experimentation they wanted to do to understand the disease. He wanted to be cured, not made some joke, and I couldn’t blame him. I could blame him for being a total ass to Patty, of course, but that was neither here nor there, because by all accounts the pair were struggling over the news.

“She wants me to take it head on. Be famous if I have to, if that means getting some form of help. She even wants me to try on some fucking female clothing just to prepare, in case. Christ, it’s humiliating.”

“I thought she wanted you to remain a man?” I said. I hoped it didn’t give away what I’d heard, but he was too morose to make the connection.

“Of course she does. Wants damn babies too, so she can be a proper housewife. Ha! Just like the ideal woman you spoke of - hot and in the home. Ha!”

He took another shot. Christ, he was a good player, and he was drunker and less relaxed than I was.

“But she also wants to make it work. Goddamnit, as if she’s the one carrying this bloody burden. Who knows, maybe it’ll work out. One thing’s for sure though.”

He waited for me to play, but I had to hear what he was going to say.

“Fine, I’ll just put it out there,” he said, and there was something manic in his expression. “If I’m going to have to turn into some fucking bitch, then I’m not gonna feel guilty about any pussy I get from here on out. Unless there’s some miracle, I’m on a damn timer. No way am I going to spend all my time consoling Patty when the girls in the office don’t know yet.”

It was the chief takeaway I got from that little meeting. Benny and I had a lot in common. Hell, I won’t lie, I really liked shooting the shit with him and chatting about our shared passions and hobbies and continual disappointment in Manchester matches. But he was an absolute bastard, and he didn’t deserve Patty. Why did someone like her have to end up with someone like him instead of me? In fact, as far as I was concerned, he damn well deserved to become the exact sort of woman he was always chasing tail after when stepping out on her.

Which gave me a pretty dastardly idea. I won’t claim I was high and righteous in this scenario, but maybe there was a way for all three of us neighbours to come out right. Or maybe I was just being selfish and lonely and taking advantage of a friend - bastard as he was. Either way, the idea was too tempting to discard.

“Well mate, whatever troubles you’re going through with Patty,” I said. “You’re always welcome round here. Any time.”

He gave me a grin. “Appreciate it, mate. I might just take you up on that offer.”

“Please do,” I said, and then took my shot.

I lost the game. This time.

***

The arguments next door continued, including when I was invited round for a nice mid-morning tea. Patty was doing her best to make it work, but Benny was lashing out more and more, sulking and complaining. I didn’t entirely blame him, but a fellow man could detect the signs that he’d taken his frustration out by seeing another woman - he’d made every excuse for being late home the previous night except the one I was certain was real. It hardened my resolve to be a bit of a bastard myself, and also convince myself that it was all just a favour for Patty.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Matthew,” she whispered to me as I helped out in the kitchen, a cleanup chore that Benny felt was beneath him. “He just needs a friend, I think. He’s trying so hard, but he needs to accept the reality of this. I’m - I’m struggling too, I’ll be honest. Maybe there’s a chance . . . God, what am I saying? I don’t even know if our marriage will survive. He’s always been so dependable.”

I bit my lip and gritted my teeth. No point adding fuel to fire. “I’ll see what I can do to change him,” I said, and it was - technically - an honest answer.

Benny came round more and more from that point, even as the Lumin’s Syndrome began to take its obvious toll. He was on testosterone pills and all sorts of supplements, and trying to keep in good cheer, but it was a false cheer: he was practically bragging about how many office girls he finally had ‘permission’ to sleep with now.

“Patty actually gave you permission?” I asked, startled.

He waved me off. “Nah, nha, of course not. And don’t bloody tell her anything, either. We’re all good neighbours with our own secrets here, so I know I can trust you. Let’s just say she told me to ‘do what I needed to feel comfortable,’ and I decided to interpret that with all the latitude of a marketing man.”

He winked, and I laughed in response, though not for the reasons he thought. I was still having fun catching up with him, but his attitude was removing any guilt of what I was going to do next.

“So how fare the changes? What’s going on there?”

He scoffed. “The usual shit. Losing my muscles, getting thinner. Dick is in a state of embarrassment, though it still rises to the occasion!”

“Are you sure? You haven’t changed that much.”

It was a lie, but he took the bait.

“Are you kidding? Hang on, lemme remove my shirt.”

He tore it right off - no buttons this time - and revealed his torso to me. We were just relaxing by the fireplace while he was ‘taking a break’ from Patty for a bit, but there was something oddly intimate in the scenery when it came to him standing from the sofa and parading in front of me, showing how much he indeed had changed. His nipples were obviously larger, and there were small pooches that were not quite manboobs but did look a bit swollen for pecs. He was ordinarily in solid shape, but his stomach muscles had fairly evaporated. More than that, his biceps were reduced, and his body hair in general was in a state of near lack of existence.

“I seriously look like a metrosexual or something. The only upside is that this is somehow catnip to some ladies.”

It was catnip to some men, too. I wasn’t bisexual, but engineers and business people have imagination, and I was both. I could see the potential of what was happening, his body resculpting to become something much more impressively karmic. Dare I say . . . sexual.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. Those are some changes.”

“Yeah, some changes. Jesus, it’s ridiculous. At this rate I’ll have a goddamn pussy in no time.”

“You’ve still got a dick for now, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, for now. And plenty of action with it too. Seriously, you should check Holly out man. Nice big tits on that blonde.”

That was my chance, so I seized on it. “Yeah, going back to our conversation the other day, I’ve been thinking about that. You know, about the ideal woman.”

“I’ll be you have, you bachelor, you!”

“Well, I keep coming back to what you said about a nice big ripe set of tits. It’s kinda the main thing, right? Don’t get me wrong, the rest of her has to look right, but it’s less fun if she doesn’t have a nice big pair of jugs?”

Something interesting happened. For just a moment, Benny seemed to take in an extra breath, pause, and then release it, as if my very comments had hit him. I wasn’t a fool: I’d done my own research on Lumin’s. Apparently, in some cases, the transformations were guided by ‘local context’, which was often just what the nearest man idealised. Benny would have known that if he were interested in the condition beyond just the cure, but I was sure glad he didn’t know now.

“Yeah, wow. Big heavy tits. You’re absolutely right, mate.”

“And all natural,” I continued. “With nice big pink nipples that would be really sensitive. Big and pert on her chest, but also soft so they aren’t fake. Bouncy and full: the kind you just want to squeeze.”

My words were definitely having an effect, because he raised a hand and brushed his own chest lightly, groaning a little. He paused, realised what he was doing, and chuckled.

“Well, I’ll have to find you a nice gal like that from the office. Introduce you - if I don’t snap her up first. I’ve got a timeline, after all. Deadlines to meet before I turn into a bloody woman and have to get in some lesbo relationship with Patty or whatever, God forbid.”

Deadlines indeed. I had my own to meet.

***

Benny pulled ever further from Patty, coming over all the time when he could. He hadn’t taken any medical leave yet, but since I was in the beginning of setting up my business I was happy to have a good neighbour tag along for the rides and even help me give the sales pitch to local companies to convince them of my merit. Benny, as I had discovered, was a masterful swindler, even as he wore more clothes to disguise his changes, and consciously spoke in a lower tone to cover up that this voice was slowly rising in octave. The last part may have been my doing: I’d done a lot of talk about how I’d love to, as I put it, “have a sexy secretary type who could man the phones, with the kind of seductive honey-sweet voice that could lure them in.”

As when I had commented on breasts, Benny had shivered a little. He’d been covering his chest up more and more, and now his neck was looking a lot softer too. It corresponded to a change in his voice. So far, he hadn’t put together that I was remoulding him. A fitting punishment for him, a way to free Patty from his influence, and . . . well, also in my own interests. I had everything idyllic, except a loving partner. Who says you can’t make one?

So my Pygmalion process continued, with our topics of discussion often veering back conveniently to his changes, and how he was coping with them, and what kind of women he was still scoring on the side now that he was basically refusing to sleep with Patty at all, who was in the know about his changes. It turned out that charisma got him access between plenty of legs, and I won’t deny I was jealous at his talent, but my own subterfuge was bearing fruit too: his figure slighter, and after I’d shown him some photos of my old celebrity crushes when we’d gotten a bit tipsy, I’d noticed that his cheeks indeed were giving him that heart-shaped face, his lips looking a bit fuller. I liked cute brunettes, and all the photos reflected that: now his hair was darkening.

“Goddamn losing my blonde hair,” he whined one day as we travelled out to see the site where I wanted my business to move in. “Just look at this shit! It’s going dark! Reckon it’ll be black?”

“Brunette would be best,” I remarked, perhaps a little daringly. “It’ll look cutest if it’s brunette, especially if you keep it short.”

At that, he actually blushed. “Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it? Wait, what the hell am I saying.”

“It’ll just be like a man’s haircut, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Sorry, I just felt a bit f-funny there. It’s all these stupid hormones in my system. The testosterones pills can only do so much.”

“Maybe stop taking them then?”

“No way,” he said, practically spitting on the floor. “I know enough about Lumin’s that if I at least put up a fight, I won’t end up some bubbly bimbo type.”

I shrugged, chuckling in a sarcastic-but-not-quite-sarcastic way. “Yeah, that’d be a real shame. I mean, I always figured that you’d become more the hot, submissive housewife type. You know, the kind that wears sexy lingerie to surprise her husband, and always bends over to clean. Not the bimbo type at all, but more of a sexy vixen in the bedroom kind.”

Once more that blush. He ran his fingers over his form, just me and him in that empty storefront. “You - what?”

I stepped closer and place an arm around his waist, continuing the ‘joke.’ “Just think about it -  you’d have an itty bitty waist. You’d look bloody marvellous in a housewife’s dress, and you’d be the kind of woman you wished Patty would be. How hot would that be?”

He pulled himself out of my arm, though not as quickly as I imagined he would.

“Bloody oath mate, there’s jokes and then there’s jokes. Are you seriously finding this a lark? Because it’s not fucking f-funny to me.”

“Sorry,” I said, looking a bit sheepish. “I was just having a kid around mate. I didn’t mean to insult your looks and stuff.”

“Good!” he replied. He stood there a moment, breathing a bit heavily, and then we got back to work inspecting the place. I noticed out of the corner of my eye though that he was continuing to brush his hip with his softer hands, as if recreating the touch I’d just given him. He kept biting his fuller lower lip, and occasionally bent over to inspect something, just as I had described a perfect housewife would. Indeed, his ass looked just a little big bigger, and he seemed partly aware of it.

“Mhmmm,” he moaned, clutching it when he thought I wasn’t looking. “Oh G-God.”

“Something the matter?”

“Nothing! I say go for it, mate. I’ll even help you move your shit here.”

“That’s my perfect partner,” I said, testing the waters once again.

This time he brushed a light brown hair behind his ear and grinned. He was starting to look real cute.

***

After that day, I got ever more daring. Benny and I had developed a kind of shoulder-ribbing dynamic over his Lumin’s. I got the real sense that he hated talking about it to anyone else, especially Patty, and that I was the only one he felt comfortable broaching the subject with, probably because I often joked about it. Well, I certainly joked well enough, because I made a habit of getting a bit more handsy with him when I pointed out his latest changes, usually after I’d gotten him a bit tipsy. I wasn’t assaulting him or anything: the second he pushed back on what I was doing, I’d just chuckle and not do anything more.

The thing was, he rarely pushed back at all. In fact, more and more he seemed to take almost a strangely perverse - if embarrassed - pleasure when it came to showing off his latest changes. One of the big ones was a direct result of me, I was pretty sure. Now, maybe Benny was always going to develop a bit of an ass: he was turning female, after all. But I’d made repeated mentions of it, and even searched out some classic war movies with the rare female side character looking shapely in uniform. A number of raunchy comedy classics from the eighties were even better at highlighting such features, and I took special care to pause the screen and point out a particularly good looking ass.

“That’s the kind you like to see, am I right?” I said, as if I were the alpha-male wannabe serial cheater and not him.

“Damn straight!” he called, trying to keep his voice lower in register and not exactly succeeding. “Wish Patty had that kind of sweet figure. I’d love to grip those buns.”

At that, I reached next to me - we were both on the same couch - and gave a quick squeeze of his rear. “Maybe you’ll end up with a bigger backside than her! A nice peachy one!” I exclaimed.

This time, he actually laughed, though his body shuddered a little. I let my hand linger perhaps just a second or two longer than anyone would call necessary or normal, waiting to see who would lose this game of chicken. To my own surprise, it was me. I pulled my hand back, feeling a bit dumb and sheepish, and it was only then that Benny exhaled.

“Oh, Jesus. That was something. Probably best not to go that far again, mate, unless you want me stepping out on Patty with you, ha!”

I laughed with him, and kept drinking my beer. I’d made my point, and he’d taken it, even if subconsciously: Matthew would love to see you with a peachy ass. Why don’t you grow one?

His body must have taken it to mind, or at least his Lumin’s Syndrome, because only a couple of days later he was continually rubbing his sore backside and complaining about how his bottom was indeed inflating, to the point where he was needing new jeans. Patty had mentioned it, and it had put him in such a foul mood that he came over to see me.

And just like I’d picture, he was bending over a lot without even realising it, finding excuses to stretch and adjust himself to show off his swollen cheeks in his tight trousers. They were starting to look damn good, to the point where in my excitement I was having to hide a bit of an erection. Turns out that posing while playing pool was a personal fetish of mine.

He caught me noticing after a while. “What are you looking at, you cheeky bastard?”

“Just admiring your sweet cheeks, dear,” I said, cracking a grin.

His mood mellowed. “God, don’t you start. Patty is already pointing out how ridiculous I look.”

“Is she? I didn’t figure her the type to make fun. I thought she was trying to stick by your side, help you sort all of this out?”

“Oh, she’s like to claim that’s what she’s doing, but she doesn’t understand at all! It’s all about preparing me to be a woman, trying to figure out how our relationship will be when I’m ‘done’, like I’m a bloody roast turkey and not a man losing my fucking penis here! God, the nerve of her to act the way she does, always trying to talk bloody emotions - I’m the one with all the hormones running through my system! At least when I’m over here I don’t feel like someone’s trying to engineer me into some kind of future housewife.”

I couldn’t help myself, I snorted at the irony. Thankfully, Benny just took it as a joke. “So yeah, look away and see my shame! I’m well aware of how ridiculous I look. At least I’ve still got my cock. I’m working my way down the fantasy list of women in my life, and even from my party days.”

“And when you’re done, and you’re changed?”

“Huh?”

I shrugged. “You’ll settle down with Patty?”

“Sure I will. I’ll have to, won’t I? Not like someone else would take me. Ha, not unless I end up one of those hot bimbos like you’re into.”

I took the pole from him and readied my own shot. He was winning as usual, but had been off his game lately the more his muscles changed, and his arms became slender and cute and lithe.

“I keep telling you,” I said. “I don’t like the bimbo types. I’m more into the sexy housewife thing now that I’ve got this place. Thought I won’t lie, I wouldn’t mind a girl with some big bimbo tits!”

I sunk the ball, and in victory reached out and grabbed his nascent breasts hidden within his sweatshirt, placing my hands over his nipples and squeezing. The transforming man yelped, bit his lip, and then let out a luxurious moan.

“Ohhhhhh, wh-what are you d-doing!”

“Just having a bit of fun, Benny. I can stop if you like.”

“I - ahhhh. Oh God, just - just a little longer. They’re s-so fucking s-sensitive. Jesus.”

I squeezed a little more firmly. Even through the fabric, I could feel his nipples harden, stiffening between my fingers. I rubbed them, eliciting another whimper of delight from my neighbour. If only he could see himself!

“MMhmm,” he continued. “S-softer. Not s-so hard.”

“They’ve grown,” I said. “But they’re still pretty small.”
“D-don’t want them big.”

“They would look cuter if they were big. Maybe just a cup size or two. Or three. Or four. Or five.”

He gasped - actually gasped - as I mentioned each possibility, his voice going higher and sweeter until it was practically womanly, if only for a bare moment.

“Y-yes!” he cried, though his cheeks were in the full flush of shame and arousal. It was then that I took the ultimate risk. I leaned forward - and downward a little, since he’d lost a couple of inches of height recently - and kissed him on the lips. He was utterly shocked, but as with when I’d touched his ass, he didn’t pull back. No, instead he kissed me right back, clearly still shocked, but wanting this as much as I did. I fondled his little left tit while my remaining hand lowered to squeeze his blossoming ass. That caused another groan.

“Ohhhhh, f-fuck. What the hell are we doing?” he asked between kisses.

I override him, sticking my tongue down his mouth. Even I couldn’t believe I was going this far: I’d never been this adventurous before, or so up front. But Benny was into it, and the possibilities of what he might become if I steered him right . . .

Finally, he pulled back, gasping for air a little. His nipples were fat and erect, pressing against his top, and he had to cover them when he noticed.

“I think - I think we shouldn’t do that again,” he mumbled.

“Funny, I was thinking just the opposite. You appeared to like it.”

But he shook his head, and I realised then that I’d gone too far. He looked at the table, where we were running even in our game, and without another word headed from the room. I moved after him, but he was quicker, and I didn’t want to scare him or chase him.

“I’m sorry, Benny!” I called, and I truly was sorry. He deserved the change, he deserved to lose Patty, but he was still my friend. Maybe that made me a bastard too, but I did feel sorry for him in that moment.

“Don’t talk to me!” he exclaimed, his voice wet and sobby and hoarse, like a woman’s after a bad break up. Exactly like a woman’s after a bad breakup, in fact.

He slammed the door shut.

And I thought that was that.

“Shit,” I said. “Goddamn, he was turning out so well, too. Nice going, Matthew.”

***

Things were either calm, or icily calm next door. The arguments stopped, and Benny stopped having late hours. Once, when I had free time to drop in, I even had some tea with Patty, who happily claimed that Benny was making a real effort with their relationship lately. I could tell she was still bothered, though, just from the way she kept looking away from me. Finally, she rested down her tea and looked me square in the eyes.

“Matthew, I have to ask. Has Benny ever told you - or indicated to you - that he’s been seeing someone else?”

I hesitated on how to answer, and that was clearly enough to confirm in her mind that I had, because she burst into tears, gripping the table and trying to control herself.

“I’m sorry, Patty,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I should have said something earlier.”

“Why - why didn’t you?”

“Because you’re my new neighbours. Because I wasn’t entirely sure of what I heard-”

“Heard?”

Fuck, I was stepping in it again. Well, as my Ma had always said, sometimes the truth has to come out. Sometimes you just have to pull off the bandaid.

“The day of the moving in party. I was trying to find Benny and . . . I heard noises upstairs. Uh, bedroom noises. I thought it was you two - I thought I heard his voice - but . . .”

She gasped, covering her mouth. Then she turned angry.

“What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“That could have been anyone. What else made you think he’s been cheating? I’ve had suspicions for a while, but . . . all those late nights. All those coworkers at the party he talks to. The women . . .”

“That’s about it for me too,” I said, mostly telling the truth. “He just talks about them a lot. And about having a man’s needs. Look, please don’t tell Benny I told you this, Patty. I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this. You’re both my friends, and -”

“How can you have a friend like that when he treats his wife like this? How can you defend him? God, the two of you bloody well deserve to be together, I swear. You know what, I’m glad he’s becoming a woman. This is his righteous punishment for being such a colossal wanker. He’s been cheating on me, well, he can lose his dick over it! That’ll teach him, since apparently his new best friend can’t step in and teach him a lesson.”

I waited a moment. “Well, you’re right there, he does deserve this. But you’re wrong, Patty. I am teaching him a lesson. And if you need help moving his stuff out, I’ll help there too once I’ve had a chat with him. You deserve someone better.”

“Damn right I do,” she said, wiping her tears. “Damn right. And you deserve a better friend than him. Don’t let him change you, Matthew.”

“I won’t. I rather think I’m changing him, perhaps.”

***

There were no major arguments the next day. Or the next. Nothing through the detachment wall. Nothing I could hear from the deck. But there was a tension in the air, and it made me stew in my own thoughts, and wonder just what the fuck I was doing and getting myself into. In fact, I was on the verge of heading over to their place after four nights and just damn well bringing a carton of beer myself so I could come clean on my own sins, when I was beaten to the door by Benny, who was knocking on the other side.

“Benny? Are you okay, man?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay,” he said, his voice hoarse and clearly artificially lowered. He had covered himself in bundles of clothing that were far too big for him - had he lost even more height and weight?

“What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, sure mate. Come on in.”

He was jittery as he entered, almost bug-eyed. His eyes had changed a bit too: they had a cute amber sort of glow to them, rather than their previous calculating blue. He looked left and right as he went in, as if trying to ascertain whether I had other visitors present. Only when he was satisfied that we were alone did he wheel about on me.

“Patty’s fucking leaving me,” he moaned.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did she, uh . . .”

“Find out. Yes, she fucking found out! God, I have no idea how, but did you accidentally hint anything to her?”

“I never accidentally said anything to her,” I said, and that was the marvellous half-truth. I certainly hadn’t been accidental, though perhaps I said more than I intended when she’d questioned me.

“Good, good. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I know I can trust you, Matt. You’re my best friend. There’s a good loyalty between us. She can’t prove any affairs, but if she can, she’ll get more than half the assets. Fuck, this is such a nightmare. I just wanted to have a bit of fling and fun before I changed and had to deal with this river of shit, and now - and now - and now I’m here! With you! I couldn’t not be!”

I was starting to get a bit nervous by this point; he was positively manic. “Couldn’t not be here . . . why?”

He groaned, and it was then that he began unburdening himself of the overly large jacket and jumper and so forth that he was wearing. In moments, he was standing before me with only a shirt and jeans on, both of which were too loose upon him, except at the hips, the ass, and around his chest. He’d done more developing than I could have imagined in those areas, and his face was softer and prettier besides.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about that fucking night you came onto me, you bloody bastard!” he exclaimed. “I couldn’t even get it up for Holly at the office, and it was our last damn date last night. Fuck you for doing this to me! Fuck me for letting it happening. Just - just . . .”

He looked into my eyes, suddenly a lot more dreamy in his gaze. His nipples were hard against his shirt.

“Just . . . fuck me already!” he cried.

And then he leapt at me, and this time the kisses started from his end.

To Be Continued . . .