Hero in the Making [Man to Albino Woman TG] - Part 4

Commissioned Anonymously

Sam’s hyped for his favourite manga author's new series at the convention, even cosplaying as the main character. But when the character is revealed to be a woman, he’s humiliated—until he mysteriously transforms into her; and things only get more complicated from there. 

~
Part 4

After a full day of shooting, I was ready to flop into bed and fall asleep. My skin was prickly, and I could already see pink burns on the backs of my hands; my face was probably the same. I had never burned so easily before; then again, I’d never been so pale before. Thank goodness the Contrast suit covered so much, or I’d be red all over. Why did he have to make the character albino? My brain was too fried to think about the implications of Basco affecting my body. So I was shocked to find a figure standing outside my apartment door holding a pizza box.

“Keith?”

“There you are! I have been waiting! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“No phones allowed, they don’t want any leaks.”

I unlocked the door, and Keith bustled in, flopping himself down on the sofa and patting the cushions.

“Oh well, tell me all about it! Did you convince Basco to change the manga?”

“Yes…but not in the way you think.” I groaned.

I explained how everything had gone, skipping over the part where Basco unintentionally made me even curvier. Keith seemed to notice, regardless, though, as his eyes kept sliding down from my face to my chest every few seconds. 

“Come on, man. Are you even listening?”

“Hm? Yeah, of course. They are right there. What am I supposed to do, not stare?” He laughed, and I felt a spike of irritation.

“Yes, actually. They are just boobs. Get over it, I am trying to tell you, Basco is making things worse!”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, you’re a smart lady.” Keith waved it off, “Besides, who cares? Sounds like Contrast is turning into some premium stuff. Just get him to go all in on the curves. Maybe get you a costume that’s more revealing too.”

“More revealing!?”

“Yeah, remember the panel we went to? You’re a woman, so you need the flexibility. Being under all that armour must suck.”

“I am plenty flexible.” I pouted, imagining the horrific embarrassment of walking around in the outfits from some of my other favourite heroines. Maybe that woman at the panel had a point. I couldn’t imagine doing those stunts today in one of those barely there leotards or a mini skirt. 

“Hey, don't pout,” Keith said, patting my cheek. “Let’s stop talking about it, huh, I bought you a pizza, let’s eat it and watch a movie, hm? You seem like you could use some Netflix and chill.”

My stomach growled, and I shrugged. I wasn't about to turn down free food. 

We settled on the couch with the pizza between us, the movie playing in the background. All I wanted was to turn my brain off and enjoy, but I couldn’t. Keith was sitting closer than usual, like he couldn’t stand being too far away. At first, I thought it was just because we were on such a small couch and I inched away. A few minutes later, he inched closer again. 

I kept feeling his knee against mine, his shoulder brushing against my arm every time he reached for a slice of the pizza. A few times, I caught him watching me, waiting till I reached for a piece so he could go for the same one ‘accidentally’. Our fingers brushed once or twice, and he looked at me in the gloom. I focused on the pizza. Then he yawned loudly and stretched out, his arm sliding behind my shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world and not the world's most famous movie-watching move. 

I froze, the movement so sudden that I couldn’t help but tense up. I glanced over at him, the confusion written all over my face.

“What are you doing?”

Keith didn’t immediately answer. He just shifted a little, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. It made my skin crawl. Finally, he looked at me, his face flicking with something I couldn’t quite place.

“What do you mean?” He asked with fake innocence, “I’m just-”

“You’re…flirting” I blurted out, “This is… weird. I’m still the same, remember?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed, and I could feel the shift in the air, the tension building between us. It was like he suddenly wasn’t the guy I’d known for years. That little warning bell in the back of my head that had started sounding back at KaCon had returned, louder than ever. This time, I didn’t ignore it. I removed Keith’s arm, and he shook his head in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he asked, sounding almost offended. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, man. I get that this whole thing is confusing for you, but I’m just trying to help. And I even paid for pizza tonight. The least you could do is…”

“Do what?” I interrupted, my heart racing. “Flirt with you? Kiss you? Is that what you think is going on here?”

Keith threw up his hands in frustration, as if I was the one being unreasonable.

“Yeah, actually. I’ve been a nice guy, understanding about this whole thing. I defended you against the asshole at KaCon, I bought pizza for you, put up with all your new emotions, I’ve been patient. The least you could do is hold up your end of the bargain.”

I felt a cold knot in my stomach. The air in the room felt thick, like I was suffocating under the weight of what Keith had just said. It made my skin crawl, and I could feel my hands trembling in my lap.

“What bargain?”

“You’re a woman now.” Keith rolled his eyes, “A hot one, you didn't think we could still just be friends? Who else is going to understand you like this? Don’t you see, Sam? This is a win-win scenario! I am the only one who knows the real you, and I can finally get some. I finally have a real nerd girl in front of me, and you expect me not to try and hit that? You should be flattered.”

“Flattered? By you acting like…like some creep?”
“I’ve been a gentleman! Patient, pizza…what else could you want? God, you’ve been a woman less than a week and you’ve already started acting like you’re better than me just cause you have a nice rack.”

“I think you should leave.”

“Sam! Come on, don't pretend you wouldn’t think about it if our positions were flipped! At least let me cop a feel.”

“I said, get out!”

Keith looked at me for a moment in shock before his face twisted into something bitter. I wish I could say it was a new expression, but it wasn't; it was the same face he gave all those ‘fake’ gamer girls and cosplayers who rejected him at each con. Normally, after making that face, I’d laugh. I’d call them stuck-up losers who weren't worth his time. The realisation made my stomach twist painfully. 

“Fine. Bitch.”

Keith grabbed his jacket and stormed out the door without another word. I sat there in stunned silence, the half-eaten pizza forgotten, the flickering light of the TV casting long shadows in the room. The only sound was the hum of the fridge, and my own blood pounding in my ears. 

Keith’s words were bouncing around my skull: Don’t pretend you wouldn’t think about it if our positions were flipped. 

“I wouldn't have flirted with him,” I told myself, but in truth, I couldn’t be sure. 

My phone beeped, and I welcomed the distraction. I’d set up alerts in the car on the way home so I’d know when Basco shared the new videos. He hadn't yet, but he had tweeted a bunch of new concept art of his character. People were already commenting, a lot more women than Basco usually got, too. Everybody seemed…excited. Except the ones who were furious, complaining that Basco had ‘gone woke’.

‘Which he has.’ I reminded myself mentally, but it felt token. 

I started to scroll through the comments, seeing line after line of people excited for Basco to try something different. Some were sceptical; a lot of people didn’t think he could pull off a serious story after Ninja Storm, and some were criticising the character design. 

‘There is no way a woman that curvy could flip through the air like that.’

‘Ugh, typical male character designer, tits and ass and then a lame excuse about wanting to show different body types. It's so transparent.’

‘After how he treated his female character in Ninja Storm, I don’t think I’ll be reading this.’

‘Count down till her love interest gets introduced and becomes the main character.’

‘I bet he never has this ‘albino character’ suffer from any of the problems actual albinos do.’

My fingers twitched, ready to defend my favourite author from the SJW types as I always did. But I felt torn, I sort of agreed with them, but also didn’t. Of course, Contrast could leap like that despite her curves; I’d already proven today that she could! And I kept imagining Basco’s face, his passion for the story and writing practically radiated off the page. It felt so…wrong to have people tearing him down about it. 

Bad as I felt, though, I couldn't help but realise the opportunity in front of me. It seemed like a split right down the middle of people excited about the story, and people who hated it. Maybe this is what I needed to get Basco to change his mind. 

All of a sudden, a familiar tingling started to spread over my body; my bust began to shrink, my ass grew, then the reverse. I groaned, feeling my thighs thicken, then thin, then thicken again. Basco was doing more drafts because of what people were saying online? The tingling sensation of the transformation was making my whole body hot, and curiosity got the better of me. There was nothing wrong with looking, right? It was my body after all! 

I unzipped the costume, slowly letting the front fall away to reveal my bare breasts; I really had to look into getting a bra, but that could wait. I moaned a little, watching my breasts shrink down a cup size, only to slowly expand again a few seconds later. Then their shape began to change, first becoming round, fake and bouncy looking, only to settle down back into a more natural teardrop shape against my chest.

“Fuck, Basco…make up your mind.” 

I could see him in my mind's eye, hunched over a desk somewhere, furiously scribbling away with a computer screen of beautiful busty women up as reference. I gasped as my hips clicked, growing wider and giving me a more pronounced hourglass shape, only to shrink back down to my more athletic, yet still feminine build. My shoulders sloped and widened, the muscles of my arms becoming more defined as Basco experimented with different bodies and forms. 

They were all different, but one thing stayed the same; I was as womanly as ever. Guess he wasn't considering changing the character back any time soon. My spine shivered as I grew an extra inch, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

“Come on Basco, I’m already tall enough! God forbid you ever put Contrast in heels!”
Finally, my body stopped changing, at least physically. Maybe it was the strangely pleasurable sensation of being transformed, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but heat was building between my legs. Memories of the hotel room flew through my mind, and I bit my lip. I still couldn’t get over the idea that touching this body was wrong. Like I was feeling up a woman without her permission. But the arousal kept building almost unnaturally, and my nipples turned hard against my shirt. They grew a little once more, stretching the fabric of my shirt further, and I whimpered. It was too tempting, I couldn’t resist.

I slid my hand up into my shirt and squeezed, shivering in delight at the feel of my fingertips pressing into the supple flesh. My thighs rubbed together as I played with my tit, squeezing the nipple, rolling it back and forth between my fingers as I crushed my folds between my thick, muscular thighs. In my mind's eye, I kept imagining Basco, sitting at his desk drawing me one-handed. It was so wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. 

Before I knew it, a familiar sensation was building. My eyes went wide, and my back arched as orgasm took me by surprise. Pleasure flooded my system, followed by shame and embarrassment. I hadn't even used my fingers! I removed my trembling hand from my shirt and cursed.

“Damn you, Basco, that was all your fault.”

As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone pinged again, and my eyes almost fell out of my skull, a private message from Basco himself, inviting me over after tomorrow's shoot.

~

There were so many parts of being a woman I’d never thought about. Obviously. Things like buying bras, finding panties that didn't slip all the way up my ass while wearing Constrat’s body suit, just how many different moisturers there were to treat sunburn, how many different kinds of sunscreen there were. I spent almost an hour with the help of a very patient woman at the local pharmacy before the shoot, trying to sort half these issues out, and sighing with relief as I finally cooled my burned skin, only for Seth to pull a face as soon as he picked me up.

“You’re face is red.” He said, as if I didn't know. “We’ll need a make-up team. Contrast is supposed to be pale as the moon.”

The idea of putting powder and stringing pigments on my burn made me wince, but no matter how I explained, Seth wasn't having it. And I spent the day sweating off make-up and feeling it trickle into the tiny red cracks in my skin. Suddenly, the thousand dollars this day's work was earning me didn't feel like nearly enough. I flopped down in my chair while Seth had an argument with the cameraman about lenses or something and closed my eyes, wishing more strongly than ever for my old life back. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

It was Basco with a look of concern on his face.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to this,” I said, truthfully. 

“I suppose it is a lot…they have that make-up woman on you every five minutes.”

“I got sunburnt the other day. Being so pale, I guess I…forgot that I burn easily.”

Basco pursed his lips.

“I hadn’t even thought of that…I wanted the main hero to be black and white so that her design would look good on monochrome pages, not just cover art. Then changed her to albino since the character I am thinking of isn't exactly the type to slather on full-body make-up. Hm, I might need to think it through more. We can talk about it when you’re done.”

“I wish I was done now.”

Seth’s voice rose, and the man behind the camera shouted right back at him before storming away, while Seth held his phone to his ear and started yelling at somebody new. Basco and I shared an awkward look.

“I think you are.”

~

Sitting in Basco’s car felt different. I held my hands in my lap, trying to resist the urge to wring them to deal with the restless anxiety building up inside. Who hadn't dreamed of this exact situation? I was going to my favourite author's apartment, as his inspiration. The way he’d been talking, we might even be collaborating on his next story. If only that story weren’t Contrast. 

We took the elevator up to the most spacious apartment I had ever seen. Or rather, it would be spacious, if every available surface wasn't covered in books, paper, pens or some other form of clutter.

“Uh here, sit down.”

Basco grabbed a handful of papers and boxes from the couch and cleared a space before clearing his throat and looking around as if noticing the clutter for the first time. 

“Sorry about that,” he blushed, “When I get into the zone, everything else flies out the window.”

“What is all this?”

“Drafts, random ideas, inspiration.”

There were manga, western comics, even novels thicker than my thighs.

“You read all of these?”

“Well, most of them, some I haven’t gotten around to. I’m trying to find the time while also working on the plan for Contrast. Oh, speaking of.”

He dove for a pile of papers on a nearby desk and quickly stuffed them in a drawer before giving me a wink.

“No spoilers.”

I giggled before I could stop myself. Curiosity burned in my gut; what was in those notes?

“I never realised writing a story was so much…work. With manga, I always figured the art would take the longest.”

“Oh, it does, but you can’t just draw without a plan. With Ninja Storm, I had the broad strokes, but I improvised a lot.”

“Is that why there was a whole arc dedicated to the curry contest?”

Basco snorted and blushed.

“Look, I’d just done on a trip to India and I had it on my brain. I apologise for nothing.”

“Except for four chapters of filler.”

“Maybe four chapters was excessive.” He admitted, sitting down next to me. “But that’s part of why I want this plan in place. No curry distractions.”

“And you really think I could help with that?”

He nodded eagerly.

“I want you to tell me what it’s like being you.” He said seriously, leaning over. “Being a woman with your unique body type. How people treat you. What it's like to be an albino. All the nitty-gritty. I want Contrast to be well-researched and authentic.”

Oh, if only he knew how ironic those words were. I was about the least authentic woman or albino he could find. 

“Did you take things this seriously with Ninja Storm?” I asked.

Basco’s cheeks went red.

“Not exactly, Ninja Storm is basically pure fantasy. The powers, the war…none of it is really analogous to anything in the real world. People loved it, who doesn't love a fun magic ninja war, but…I want Contrast to be about things, as well as having fun action.”

He fiddled with his pencil for a moment.

“I want to be a real writer. Manga is seen as kids' stuff in the West a lot, but I want to prove it can tell real stories.” 

“Of course it can!” I said, feeling a familiar sense of defensiveness flow through me. “Ugh, I hate that just because there are pictures, and busty women, that people think manga is just got kids! It’s actually one of the best mediums for storytelling we have! I mean, Romeo and Juliet is considered a classic just because it was written by some guy hundreds of years ago. If somebody wrote that story with a big titty anime girl, everybody would just dismiss it as trash, even though the story was exactly the same!”

I crossed my arms under my bust and snorted in frustration and waited for Basco to agree, or play devil's advocate, but he didn’t. He just stared.

“Basco?”

“Hang on, just stay there!”

He rushed for his pencil and a pad of paper and quickly began to draw.

“That pose, it’s perfect.” He muttered, “Now, I just need a better angle…ah!”

He plonked himself down at my feet, sitting cross-legged and alternating looking at his paper and looking up at me. I must have been quite a sight standing there, legs apart, arms crossed to heft up my boobs while he drew. Having my favourite author literally at my feet was…well, it made me feel some things, that was for sure. 

There was nothing but the sound of pencil scratching against paper, nothing to distract me from just how…hot it felt to have somebody examine me so closely. Especially the man who, unwittingly, held my fate in his hands. Basco’s hand curved over the page, and I felt my ass swell slightly as he adjusted the image. My shoulders clicked as they squared ever so slightly, and my lips tingled. They were probably getting thicker, too. Basco didn’t even seem to notice; maybe only I could notice the changes. That was a relief at least. 

“There, done, tada!”

The sketch was rough, but it took my breath away. The character was standing proudly, probably looking down at some lowly criminal. Her curves were obvious, and yet it didn't feel like cheesecake. It felt like a powerful woman who could break me in two if she wanted. For the first time…she looked like a hero to me. Maybe this story had some hope after all. I quickly shook that thought out of my head, he had to change his mind, or I’d be stuck like this forever! 

“Hey, I have an idea, why not try drawing that but with her as a man?”

Basco screwed up his face.

“Why? Contrast is a woman, that’s not changing, even if the story is still under development.”

I smiled tightly. “Just a suggestion.”

“Well, come on, let’s get started, tell me about you, Bianca.”

Okay, I could bullshit this. I talked about my love of games, anime and manga, about how I had only recently gotten into cosplay, about how much I adored Ninja Storm and his art. But the more I spoke, the less interested he became. 

“But that’s it like being a woman, the little differences. I don’t want to come across as a guy writing a woman, I want her to feel authentic.”

“There isn’t much difference,” I said, without thinking, but then realised that wasn’t exactly true. “Well, having random guys stare at me is more annoying than I thought it would be, I mean, it is annoying. And…my male friend seems to think we could get together just because I’m female…”

I wondered how Keith was. I hadn’t had so much as a text since our argument. 

“Hm, how about some coffee?” He suggested. “We could both use a pick-me-up.”

“That sounds great.”

As soon as he left the room, I leapt for the drawer; this could be my chance to see those ‘spoilers’ he mentioned. Maybe I could even edit them a little, make a few of my better ideas were his. The papers were sitting at the top of the drawer. I expected to be met with scribbles of story ideas, not…porn. My own face looked back at me with sultry eyes, or rather, Contrast’s did. It was the hero, but naked, spread across the bed with her fingers inside her slit, mouth parted in pleasure. 

“Was this why I felt so horny the other night?” I whispered and began to flip through the images. Some were normal, other’s were like the first. Contrast with her hand on her breast, contrast in bed with some figure whose face was out of frame, her head thrown back in delight. 

“How do you take your-Oh God, don’t look at those!” 

The papers were snatched from my stunned fingers a second later by a furiously blushing Basco.

“I’m so sorry, I know how this looks, but it’s the character, not you, I swear!”

“I didn't know you drew ecchi,” I said, voice slightly strained.

“I want this to be a mature story, mature women have sex, on their own terms.” Basco swallowed, “And I thought sex could be a good way of showing her development over the story, going from one-night stands purely for carnal pleasures to real love and connection.”

Manga authors said that sort of thing all the time; it was usually just a thinly veiled attempt to cover up the true intention, ‘I like boobs’. I’d defended it all the time; there was nothing wrong with wanting characters to be sexy, to do sexy things, but this felt different. Basoc seemed genuine, like he really did want to tell a story about a mature woman, doing all the things mature women did, as well as fighting crime. 

“I think I get it.” 

“You do?” Basco looked like he wanted to fall down a hole and die of embarrassment.

“I just think her touching herself is…a bit much. It’s more of a villain thing.”

“Villian…thing?”

I felt my cheeks starting to go red now.

“It’s just girls touching themselves…it would be better if they found a guy, it’s…I don’t know it just feels wrong!”

Basco snorted.

“Wow, I never expected you to be so old-fashioned.” He teased, “You know the sexual revolution happened like fifty plus years ago, right?”

“Oh…shut up!”

“Very well said.”

“I just found your dirty art, how has this become about me?”

Basco just laughed so hard he had to support himself on his knees, crinkling the pages under his fingers. 

“I’m sorry, this is just…too weird.” 

A strange flutter formed inside my chest. Something about his laugh, the genuine way he explained his process, his desire to be taken seriously; it all made butterflies start dancing in my stomach. He was right; this entire situation was just so strange that even I couldn’t help but giggle. He didn’t even know the weirdest part! 

“Okay, how about we both pretend this part never happened.” I giggled.

“Agreed, now, how do you like your coffee?”