Liam opened his eyes suddenly, his heart pounding hard against his chest. The room around him was completely unfamiliar: walls painted in a soft blue, a messy desk scattered with notebooks and pencils, and a poster of a music group he didn't recognize on the opposite wall.
He blinked in confusion, trying to get his bearings. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was leaving the gym in his original world, his muscles still warm and sore from the intense workout. He'd crossed the street distractedly, thinking about his next date, when the blaring sound of a horn had alerted him. Bright lights, a dull impact... and then, nothing. Just infinite darkness.
He sat up slowly, wondering if he was in a hospital. The mattress beneath him was soft, too comfortable for a medical bed, and there were no beeps from machines or the smell of disinfectant. He was about to stand up when, suddenly, a torrent of foreign memories flooded his mind like an avalanche. They weren't his memories, but fragments of another life, another identity. The headache was immediate and intense, as if someone were stabbing needles into his skull. He fell back onto the bed, clutching his forehead with both hands, gasping as the images sorted themselves out.
Everything became clear in an instant. He had died in that accident. And now... he had been reborn. Reincarnated in a new world, but not just any one. This was a place where social norms were inverted: women were the dominant gender, the ones who took the reins in all aspects of life, from political power to intimate interactions. Men, on the other hand, were seen as delicate, passive, objects of desire. Liam felt a shiver run down his spine. In his previous life, he had been a muscular, independent, bisexual man. Now, it seemed fate had played a cruel joke on him.
He stood up shakily and ran to the adjoining bathroom, turning on the light with trembling hands. He looked in the mirror, and what he saw left him speechless. His face was beautiful, almost ethereal: piercing blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes; full lips and a soft jawline with no trace of stubble. His black hair fell in soft waves to his shoulders, shining under the light. But it wasn't just his face. He lifted his pajama shirt and examined his body: slim, slender, with narrow shoulders and a thin waist that curved dramatically into wide hips and a large, round, firm ass. It was the perfect body of a femboy, a "trap" through and through. From the implanted memories, he knew this was the norm in this world: all men were like this, designed by evolution or some cultural force to be attractive and submissive.
The thought aroused him immediately. In his original world, he had fantasized about bodies like this, and now he had one. He felt a familiar heat in his groin, and his member began to harden. He looked down and pulled open his pajama pants to confirm. In his previous life, he had already been well-endowed, but this... this was a size up. Thick, long, throbbing against his hand. He bit his lip, holding back a moan. "Fuck, this is surreal," he thought, as a mischievous smile formed on his lips. He washed his face with cold water to calm down, breathing deeply. He couldn't afford to get so distracted right away. He had to explore this new world, starting with his "family."
As he descended the stairs toward the kitchen, the memories of his new life flooded him again. His mother, Elena, was a strong and dominant woman, like all in this world. He had two older sisters: Lucy, who was in college, and Zoe, who was in her senior year of high school, at the same school as him. It felt strange to have a family; in his previous life, he had been an orphan, growing up in foster homes, always alone. Now, he had people waiting for him downstairs, people he'd share his daily life with. The aroma of coffee and fried bacon guided him to the breakfast table.
Upon entering the kitchen, he saw his mother finishing serving the plates. She was an impressive sight: large breasts that showed under the tight blouse of her office suit, an S-shaped figure with pronounced curves that exuded confidence and power. Her black hair framed a mature but attractive face, with blue eyes identical to his. Seated at the table, already dressed in her school uniform, was Zoe, devouring her breakfast while chatting animatedly with their mother. Zoe had medium-sized breasts and an athletic body, toned from sports; her blonde hair was an anomaly in the family, contrasting with the predominant black, but her blue eyes tied her to the lineage. Lucy, the eldest, lives in the university dormitory.
"Good morning," Liam said casually, sitting in his usual chair.
He poured himself a steaming cup of coffee, followed by a generous portion of crispy bacon and scrambled eggs. The familiar taste comforted him a bit amid all the strangeness. But he noticed that the conversation between his mother and Zoe had died out abruptly. The air in the kitchen became thick, charged with palpable tension.
Liam looked up and understood instantly: his pajama shirt was half-open, exposing part of his smooth, flat chest. His mother was looking at him with evident hunger in her eyes, as if holding back a primal urge. Zoe, for her part, had flushed cheeks, her eyes darting away quickly but returning again and again. Liam smiled inwardly. "This life is going to get a lot more fun than I expected," he thought, feeling a tingle of excitement at the inverted dynamic.
Zoe, nervous and stuttering a bit, broke the silence.
"Why didn't you get dressed before coming down? You can't leave your room like that, all disheveled. And... where's your bra?"
Liam ignored the concern in her voice and adjusted his shirt nonchalantly, letting it open a little more instead of closing it.
"You're overthinking it, Zoe. It's no big deal."
Internally, he laughed at the situation. In this world, men wore bras to enhance their delicate figure and maintain a "proper" appearance. But he, with his mindset from another world, didn't see the need. Breakfast continued in awkward silence, interrupted only by the sound of utensils against plates. His mother tried to maintain composure, serving more coffee and commenting on trivialities about the weather, but her eyes kept betraying her, stealing glances at Liam's exposed chest. Zoe, red as a tomato, ate quickly, avoiding eye contact. Liam, on the other hand, enjoyed the moment, chewing his bacon slowly while processing the implications of this new social order.
Finally, his mother looked at the clock on the wall and cleared her throat, breaking the tension.
"Liam, go get ready. We don't want to be late for school or work."
Liam nodded and went back up the stairs to his room, feeling their gazes on his back. Once alone, he opened the closet and examined the school uniform. It wasn't much different from his original world: an impeccable white shirt, fitted gray pants, a blue tie, and an optional jacket. However, in the underwear drawer, he found the men's bra: a soft garment designed to enhance the flat chest and give a more feminine silhouette. He looked at it skeptically and set it aside. "Unnecessary," he thought. He changed quickly, making sure the pants hugged his new prominent ass, which gave him a strange but not unpleasant sensation. He grabbed his backpack, full of books and notebooks that he now knew belonged to his junior year classes, and went back down.
Downstairs, his mother and Zoe were already ready. His mother adjusted her work bag, with a professional air that didn't hide her dominant figure. Zoe, impatient, drummed her fingers on the table.
"You took forever," Zoe reproached him when she saw him. "And... why didn't you put on makeup? You always do."
Liam realized that the previous owner of the body had been meticulous about that: foundation, eyeliner, a touch of color on the lips to accentuate his trap beauty. But he didn't need it.
"I prefer more natural looks now," he replied with a carefree smile.
Zoe didn't care; she rolled her eyes and headed to the garage car in the driveway. Liam followed her, sitting in the front passenger seat, next to his mother. Zoe settled in the back, immediately immersed in her phone, swiping her finger across the screen without paying attention to the outside world.
The engine purred to life, and they began the drive to school. Liam got lost in his thoughts, watching the modern streets pass by: tall buildings, electric cars humming, people walking hurriedly. Everything seemed similar to his world, but with subtleties: women driving in most cars, men walking with delicate postures, clothing that accentuated their curves. It was fascinating and disturbing at the same time. Suddenly, he noticed his mother glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He had forgotten to button one shirt button, leaving a glimpse of exposed skin.
He thought it was fun and, discreetly, unbuttoned two more buttons, letting the collar open wider. He complained out loud, fanning himself with his hand.
"It's too hot today, isn't it?"
Zoe, without looking up from her phone, murmured distractedly.
"Yeah, these days are going to be hot. They say a heat wave is coming."
His mother tried to ignore it, focusing on the road, but she couldn't quite manage it. Her eyes kept drifting again and again to Liam's partially exposed chest, her grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. The tension in the car was palpable, like an electric current growing with every kilometer. Liam felt the heat of their gazes, and a part of him—the bisexual and playful part from his previous life—enjoyed it immensely. The drive stretched out in that charged silence, with morning traffic adding extra minutes that only intensified the atmosphere.
Finally, they arrived at the school: a modern building with glass facades and well-kept gardens, full of students chatting in groups. Zoe got out quickly, slamming the door and waving to a friend waiting at the entrance.
Liam stayed in the car a few seconds longer, buttoning his buttons with deliberate slowness. He leaned toward his mother and whispered in her ear, with a low and playful voice.
"If it's you, I don't mind if you look more."
He chuckled softly, opening the door and getting out of the car. His mother was left shocked, her eyes wide open, giving him an intense look loaded with promises as she watched him walk away. She started the engine and drove off, but Liam swore he saw a blush on her cheeks in the rearview mirror.
He stood at the school entrance, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, observing the bustle of students. Dominant girls chatting confidently, boys with bodies similar to his walking with feminine grace. "This world is going to be fucking fun," Liam thought, with a mischievous smile on his lips. And it was just beginning.