Buildup (1)
"...Am I not living my life all wrong somehow?"
After that first dildo experience—a whirlwind of excitement, frenzy, depravity, and a massive dopamine hit—I'm standing under the warm shower spray, starting to reflect on myself. They call it post-nut clarity, that super-rational state most guys hit after jerking off. I'm not fully there, but the shower's helping me dip into it a bit.
It's only day two since I suddenly became a woman. Not just any woman, but one I can confidently call a super beauty. Pretty, big tits, the whole wholesome package. Even when I look at myself in the mirror, I get turned on—it's that hot. I've become a girl whose extreme narcissism feels totally justified by her looks alone.
"How have I only fapped for the past two days..."
And it's not like I was only thinking dirty thoughts when I did it. Yesterday morning: wake up, grope my tits, order adult toys, finger my pussy. Ugh. Already off to a bad start there. Then outside: shake my tits on the subway. (Unintentionally.) Buy underwear—but sexy ones too. Eat. Hit the adult shop for a vibrator and lingerie. ...Get caught by high schoolers on the way out and hear their sex jokes.
"Haa..."
Thinking back still makes me cringe.
Back home: slip into the sexy underwear right away, get horny and fap. Fap again in the shower 'cause I'm still horny. Pass out from exhaustion. Wake up: fap with the delivered dildo. In my ass, no less.
"This feels seriously dangerous."
Something's gotta be wrong here. Sure, I've become a girl who looks insanely hot even to me. But how is the last two days just fap, eat, fap, sleep, fap? Isn't this exactly the life of a total NEET loser?
I've got this insanely hot, pretty, stupidly cute, stacked body now. Wasting it like this feels like such a crime.
What? The adjectives sound a bit off? But I'm just listing facts, so it's fine, right?
Shhh—
This won't do. I need to do something productive, or at least take time to really look at myself again. Under the warm water, I make a vow while washing up.
Alright. Then let's start with a power shower right now.
Tremble tremble—
"Ughhh..."
...But first, my body needs a break since I've already drained every last drop. I finish washing, order delivery through my laziness incarnate app, and flop face-first onto the bed without even drying my hair.
Whatever, when you're wiped, nothing gets done. Just eat lunch and then get to it. For real.
I devour lunch like a champ, leaving the empty plastic containers scattered on the table. Somehow, it's already 4 p.m. before I finally put down my phone.
"Fuck."
Blame modern tech for this. Lying in bed, thumb scrolling down... how does time vanish like that? It was all pointless short videos I wasn't even that into or found meh. But damn YouTube kept feeding me stuff that made my finger keep going.
Why'd I do that? Playing mobile games would've been more productive, at least.
Oh yeah, mobile games. Somehow I haven't logged in for two days. Already regretting the daily rewards I missed yesterday. And this morning's probably gone too.
Guess I should log in now. I pick up my phone again—then freeze. My last shred of conscience hits the brakes.
You decided to do what you need to do now. And you're still grabbing your phone, you hopeless slut?
My inner diligent self lands a spicy, fact-packed zinger.
...But I'm not out here saving the world or anything. Just two mobile games. Doing the daily and weekly quests is smart, right? Think long-term resource costs.
This time, my inner diligent self gets a sweet, reasonable counteroffer.
And sadly... that inner voice is still me. Meaning, only relatively diligent. It caved to the immediate rational pleasure too.
So I waste another hour and finally drag myself out of bed at 5 p.m.
Spring up—
"I'm trash."
It's heading into summer, so even at 5, it's still bright outside. Ironically, that clear sky pokes at my conscience again.
Soon that bright sky'll go dark and night will come. What have I done in the meantime?
I slam my head back into the bed. Take a deep breath, and yell.
"Get it together, Kim Se—"
No, that's not right anymore. Try again.
"Get it together, Kim Seyeon!!!!!!!!"
I roar it out loud and clear. Whoosh. Shake off my old weak, lazy self.
One more fresh start—time to head out. I strip off the pajamas I've been in since afternoon and change into going-out clothes. Something semi-formal from what I own. Jeans and a white tee should work.
I pull out the jeans and slide my legs in.
...There's way too much room?
I check myself in the full-length mirror.
"Uh, hmm."
From waist to legs, there's like a full fist-width of extra space on the side. Guess my old self was even more of an ultra-omega male than I thought.
"Gotta buy new clothes."
I tuck it away neatly, grab the black tracksuit from yesterday. Time's awkward, so clothes shopping tomorrow. Today, focus on learning about this body itself.
Creeeak—Beep—
Before I know it, I'm dressed and out the door at 5:30, greeted by the orange-tinged sky. It's a symbol of guilt, but I've felt enough of that. Now with anticipation for my body's capabilities, I step out of the building.
This anticipation for my body isn't just about its hot, sexy physical appeal. Sure, that's a big part. But what I mean is the entertainment or athletic potential: dancing, singing, gaming, workouts, stamina, sports, etc.
Dancing's off the table for now. Stamina... from what I've felt so far, not great.
First up, something easy to check: karaoke. Gaming's easy too, but I did that before. Singing's something my old body never really explored. I wanna hear this new voice at full blast.
I've heard my voice so far, and it's pretty damn good. Wonder how it'll handle songs. This girl—what's her singing like?
Musing like that, I trudge to the coin karaoke near my place.
Ding-a-ling—
The usual shop bell rings. Lucky timing—it's not crowded. Snippets of singing from closed rooms here and there as I scout a small one.
I find a corner nook, a tiny room wedged between walls. Normally wouldn't pick it without friends, but solo today, it's perfect.
I open the door with familiar ease, pop in some coins. Four songs for 1,000 won to start.
First song: safe ballad. But one with some high notes.
...Huh, all the recent songs I remember are J-pop. Digging back to three years ago when I cared about charts, I search a decent ballad.
This one's good.
"Ahem."
My voice flows through the mic.
Alright. Let's do this.
"...Oh?"
As expected, pretty good. I didn't nail all the techniques I vaguely knew, but the basically pleasant tone carried it—solid "nice timbre" review.
The so-called "weeaboo songs" I sang next? Handled 'em great too. High notes galore, but I hit 'em clean.
Got hyped on familiar tunes and did three weeb songs in a row—minor detail. Last one was J-pop, not Vocaloid, so it's fine.
Briefly considered more, but better stop here. Solo's not that fun. No fun, and stuff to do ahead.
Check phone clock: just past 6 p.m. already.
I grab takeout dinner and head home. After a quick meal, time to check other stuff.
Toss the plastic containers from lunch in the trash, then naturally boot up the computer. Feels like I gotta, so I crack my knuckles and stretch.
"Nngh."
Alright now, time to game. The heroes' time has come!