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Oliver could already see it, imagining what it would be like to be close to Jessica, to hear her laugh up close and see the sparkle in her eyes as she spoke.

She would tell him stories about her life, her ambitions, and the challenges she faced as the captain of the volleyball team.

She would totally confess her love to him, saying he was the only person in the world who mattered to her, and soon he'd be walking with her through the campus, her arm casually draped over his shoulders as they chatted and laughed. They would talk about anything and everything, from their classes to their favorite movies, their connection growing deeper with each shared word, and he would know the warmth of her body next to his, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the way her hair would catch the light as she tossed it back in laughter. Just being near her, feeling the brush of her hand against his as they walked, would be enough to make his heart race and his mind spin with possibilities.and they'd fall in love and buy a house together and live a happy life together.

But that was later. For now, he had to get dressed.

Oliver stood in front of his closet, his heart racing, palms damp with sweat.

The message from Jessica played on a loop in his mind.

He knew he had to make an impression, but what to wear?

His wardrobe wasn't exactly extensive, mostly consisting of plain t-shirts, hoodies, and jeans. He rifled through the hangers, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest. Nothing seemed right. After what felt like an eternity, he settled on a pair of dark jeans and a not terribly wrinkled button-up shirt that he hoped looked decent enough.

He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar and trying and failing to smooth out the fabric.

His reflection did little to ease his nerves.

He fiddled with his hair, trying to tame the messy brown strands into something more presentable.

In a last-ditch effort to bolster his confidence, he grabbed his cologne and sprayed it liberally, the scent filling the small room almost instantly.

Too much?

Probably.

But there was no time to worry about that now.

With a final deep breath, Oliver grabbed his phone and wallet, shoving them into his pockets before heading out the door.

The night air was crisp, doing little to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind.

As he walked across the campus, his steps felt heavier with each passing minute, the anticipation almost unbearable.

He approached the address Jessica had sent, a large, off-campus house already pulsing with the sounds of music and laughter.

The party was in full swing by the time he arrived.

The thump of bass reverberated through the walls, and the chatter of dozens of voices created a cacophony that made his head spin.

Oliver hesitated at the threshold, feeling like an outsider in the midst of the lively crowd.

He navigated through clusters of people, his eyes darting around in search of Jessica.

The living room was packed, every corner filled with students holding red cups, laughing and dancing.

Every single person was dressed to the nines, like a wedding, or even more formal. Suits, ties, high heels, and formal dresses dominated the room. Oliver couldn't see over anyone, but what he could see––he was horribly underdressed, a sore thumb.

The overwhelming energy of shame hit him like a wave. He could feel eyes on him, and his nerves flared up anew. Just as he began to think he should retreat, run home, change into something more appropriate, a familiar figure caught his eye.

Jessica stood by the kitchen island, her presence unmistakable. Her eyes locked onto his, a sly smile curling her lips. She made her way through the throng of people with effortless grace, people parting like sheep.

"Oliver," she said, her voice cutting through the noise effortlessly.

Before he could respond, she grabbed his hand, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, did I not tell you the party was black tie? I'm so, so sorry. You must be so embarrassed. Come on, let's get you fixed up."

She led him away from the crowd, weaving through the maze of bodies until they reached a quieter corner of the house.

The sounds of the party faded slightly, replaced by the more muted hum of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter.

Jessica stopped, turning to face him, her eyes scanning him up and down.

Oliver swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I'm glad you came," she said, her smile both inviting and enigmatic. "We need to talk."

Jessica's grip on Oliver's hand was firm and unyielding as she led him up the stairs, away from the prying eyes and booming music. Oliver's mind raced, a mix of fear and curiosity battling for dominance.

Say something, say anything! Say how much you love her and how badly you want her to stick her tits in your face and then she will and it will be great and then say you love her again in case she missed it the first time, and maybe one more time, just in case.

They reached a door at the end of a hallway, and Jessica pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room with a small couch and a few scattered chairs. She closed the door behind them, the soft click of the latch sending a shiver down Oliver's spine.

"Sit," she commanded, pointing to the couch.

Oliver obeyed, his legs feeling like jelly as he sank into the cushion.

Jessica remained standing, her posture relaxed yet commanding, her eyes never leaving his.

She took a deep breath, her expression shifting from the playful charm she had displayed earlier to something much more serious.

"I need to tell you something," she began, her voice steady and controlled.

Oliver's excitement perked. This was his moment. Oliver's eyes roved over Jessica, drinking in every detail with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

Her long, straight blonde hair cascaded down her back, catching the light and shimmering like spun gold.

Her tanned skin, kissed by countless hours under the sun, glowed with a healthy, radiant warmth.

She stood tall and confident, her posture exuding an effortless command that made Oliver's pulse quicken. Her athletic build was a testament to her dedication and strength, each muscle perfectly sculpted and defined beneath her fitted volleyball uniform. A cute dress hugged her torso, highlighting the gentle swell of her breasts, clinging to her hips and thighs, leaving little to the imagination.

Her face was equally captivating, with sharp, expressive features that could shift from playful to intimidating in an instant.

Her eyes, a piercing shade of blue, seemed to see right through him, their intensity softened only by the long, dark lashes that framed them.

Her high cheekbones and slightly arched brows gave her a regal air, while the hint of a smirk on her full, pink lips hinted at the mischief and control she wielded so effortlessly.

Even in this dimly lit room, she seemed to radiate an aura of authority and allure that made it impossible for Oliver to look away.

Every inch of her was a study in contrasts—strength and grace, beauty and dominance—and he found himself utterly, helplessly captivated.

"I know what you've been up to."

His heart shuttered to a stop. He opened his mouth to protest, but Jessica held up a hand to silence him.

"Don't bother denying it. Tom, your roommate? He told me everything. He saw you at the games, and worse yet, he saw you...pleasuring yourself to images of me."

A wave of mortification crashed over Oliver, his face flushing a deep crimson. He tried to look away, but Jessica's gaze held him captive. His worst fears were coming true, right here, in this room.

"That's not all," Jessica continued, her tone sharp. "I know about the times you've stalked my social media, the creepy messages you leave on my account on burner accounts, and the pictures you've taken at my games without my knowledge. I could ruin you, Oliver. Get you kicked out of school. End your life here."

Oliver's stomach churned, a sickening sense of dread pooling in his gut. He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, but he was trapped here.

Jessica's smile widened into something almost predatory as she continued, "Oh, and Oliver? Tom saw something else in your search history. You really should clear your browser more often." She paused, letting the tension build. "All that sissy porn and content you consume. You really are something else, aren't you?"

Oliver's heart hammered in his chest, the blood rushing to his face in a hot wave of shame. He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but no words came out. His throat was dry, his tongue too heavy, so he just sat there, and could only force out a stammering, "Wh-wh-what? No I–I don't, I swear."

Jessica's laughter was light, almost mocking. "Far too late to lie to me. You're pathetic. You fantasize about being dominated, humiliated, turned into some submissive little pet. You know what I think? I don't think you'd like it much, if it were to happen. So I say, careful what you wish for."

She leaned in closer, her eyes locking onto his with a steely determination, her words slow and controlled. "I don't believe it. That you'd enjoy being dressed up, paraded around, humiliated. And you know what they say––don't knock it till you try it.

"From now on, you're going to be mine. You'll follow my rules, my commands, without question. And in return, I'll keep your secrets safe. But make no mistake, this isn't going to be easy for you. I'm going to push you, break you down, and rebuild you into something entirely new. And if you fail, or you quit, you're done."

Oliver's mind raced, the reality of his situation crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Yet, amidst the fear and humiliation, there was an undeniable thrill. The thought of surrendering to Jessica's will, of being molded by her, sent a shiver down his spine.

Jessica stood up, towering over him. "Stand up," she ordered, her voice firm.

He scrambled to his feet, his legs trembling. Jessica circled him slowly, her gaze assessing him like a piece of meat.

"From this moment on, we're going to see if you're really all of your fantasies. You will be a sissy. Every desire you've hidden away, every fantasy you've kept secret—I'm going to bring them to life. And we'll see how you feel on the other side."

Oliver swallowed hard, the reality of her words sinking in. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but also oddly exhilarated. This was it. The point of no return.

Jessica stopped in front of him, her smile a blend of amusement and authority. "Welcome to your new life, Oliver. I take it back, let's go with... Olivia? Yeah, I like that. Olivia. Perfect. It's going to be a long, long journey, Olivia."

Her words hung in the air, a promise and a threat. Oliver nodded, unable to speak, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation. "What comes next?"

"I'll text you tomorrow, and you'll be there when I say, 5 minutes early."