Karmic Justice

"We the Jury, hereby find the defendant, London Sinclair, not guilty," the head juror says.

I smile at my lawyer who smiles back at me. I look over at the prosecutors who look dejected and defeated. I hear a woman crying. I look to see that it's Lilyana, the stupid bitch that started this whole mess. Serves her right. She should have never tried to bring this to trial.

Sure, I did fuck her. Sure, she screamed no over and over. That's just what women do. Ultimately, they all want it. Of course, I never admitted to any of that. I'm a pretty great liar. It was easy enough to sit in the box and get all these people on my side. Some credit goes to my lawyer. He ripped her apart on the stand. Frankly, it was impressive how cruel he could be. I certainly got a kick out of it.

The judge says what he needs to say and we are adjourned. The trial is officially over. Still smiling, I stand up and walk confidently down the aisle. Lilyana is seated inward, her older sister, Kara, comforting her. As I walk, she looks up, and gives me an evil stare. As I get closer to her seat, she stands up. I smile at her.

When I get to her I stop because she starts to speak, "I tried to do this right, but the system failed me. Now I'll do it my way."

I think for a moment to ask her what she means, but I decide that I don't really give a fuck. Instead, I keep walking. I exit the courthouse, and my lawyer drives me home, to my apartment. I make pretty good money as one of the higher up accountants at my firm. I even have my own secretary. My apartment is pretty classy, in a very nice part of town. Once inside I stretch my arms out. It feels good to be free.

The day is close to over which means it's the perfect time to head to a bar to celebrate. I casually walk to my favorite bar, sit down, and ask for a beer. As I sip it I look around for women. A hot blonde has just entered. Her hair color reminds me of my own. Of course, mine is short.

She sits down at the bar. She looks around like maybe she is waiting for some friends. I walk over and sit down next to her. I try talking to her and even buy her a drink. She is uninterested in my flirting, but she does take the drink. Her friends arrive and she walks away from me. Annoying, but it's not a huge loss. The night has only just begun.

After several more drinks and several more women who don't respond to my flirting I start to get angry. I'm done playing nice and fair. I wait for a woman to walk away from her drink. I see the perfect opportunity and casually slip a roofie in her drink. She comes back and drinks it, but much to my annoyance she leaves with a large group.

After failing two more times I decide I've pushed my luck far enough. I don't need to get laid today. Instead I continue to get completely shitfaced.

*****

My alarm wouldn't stop buzzing. Without opening my eyes I reach for it and smack it until it finally shuts off. Which is great because my head is killing me. I don't even remember going home last night. For a brief moment I consider not going to work, but in the end I decide I can deal with a hangover.

I get up and that's when I notice it. My room looks different. Where before I had barren walls in muted colors, I now have pastel walls. On them hangs art, water paintings of flowers, and hand drawn landscapes. As I turn to look at the rest, my hair gets in my face. Which makes no sense, I've always kept my hair short.

I grab my blonde hair with my hand. It's long, really long. It reaches well below my shoulders. Also, my hand looks odd. It's smaller, more slender, and has no hair. My arm is the same. As my eyes move down my arm and reach my shoulder I see two large things jutting out from my chest. I also notice that I am wearing a pink nightgown.

I touch one of them through the nightgown and have to pull back. It's very sensitive and very real. Fearing the worst, I stand up and quickly pull the nightgown up. I am wearing panties and there is no obvious bulge. I pull the panties down. Where my penis should be is a vagina. I sit back down on the bed hard.

I take a moment to calm down. Intense curiosity fills me and I walk to where my bathroom should be. My bathroom is where I remember it to be, but when I enter I see that it's different too. The colors are the same, but there are a ton of makeup products on the sink counter. I ignore them and look at myself in the mirror.

I am beautiful. Stunning blonde hair flows from my head, my face is gorgeous, and my body is sexy. I take a moment to admire the hot woman in the mirror until I am brought back to reality. She's me. I don't want to be her. I'd rather fuck her. Why am I a woman? What the hell happened last night?

<I did things my way.>

"Who said that?" I ask. I heard a woman's voice. Or not heard. It was more like I had a thought that wasn't my own. It had a woman's voice, one I recognized, but couldn't place. My own voice was strange to hear. It's nothing like my male one. It's much higher pitched and gives off this kind of breathy air that sounds sexy.

<I don't care if you remember me or not. Just know that this is my way of gaining justice,> she says.

I finally place the voice, "You're Kara, from the trial. You're Lilyana's sister," I say, "Wait. That cryptic shit you said yesterday. This is what you meant? You did this?"

<Yes. Although I can never take back what you did to my sister I could at least prevent you from doing it to another woman ever again. This is your life now, Larissa,> she says.

"Larissa?" I ask. My parents had a weird fascination with Europe. That's why they called me London. Larissa is the name of a city in Greece. I only know that because they've told me if I had been a girl they would have named me Larissa. I didn't talk with my parents, we hadn't gotten along in ages, "If that's my name what is my life now?"

<Everyone thinks you were born a woman. Your job is still the same, your life is still the same. If you look at old pictures they'll be pictures of Larissa. However, they aren't real, everyone will just perceive it this way,> she says.

"You bitch! Change me back! I don't want to be some chick!" I scream.

<You don't need to yell. You sound like a crazy person, shouting at no one. You can speak to me as I speak to you,> she says.

I try thinking, <I don't give a fuck. Just change me back>

<There you go. And no, I will not,> she says.

<Why the fuck not?> I ask, <If I'm a woman doesn't that mean I never touched your sister? In that case she's fine and you should have no beef with me.>

<No,> she says, <Unfortunately, I can't erase your actions. My sister and all the other women you've hurt need justice. I'm also not some God who can do anything she wants. I have my limits and my sister is special in her own right. She is unaffected by memory alterations. No matter how hard I try she'll always remember what you did to her and who you really are.>

Being that I am in my own home I don't care how crazy I look and say, "What should I do now?"

<Live your life. No one's stopping you,> she says, <I'll even help you out today. Just do what I say.>

"Why would I listen to you?" I ask.

<Because I've been a woman all my life and you've only been one for about ten minutes,> she says.

"Fine," I whine.

<Head to you closet,> she says. When I get there she says, <Grab that suit. Yes, that one. You see the skirt with it. Yup, that's right. Put them on the bed,> I do and she says, <Go into your dresser's underwear drawer. You'll want a bra for those big girls and a clean pair of panties.>

I grab them all and set them on the bed.

<Good. Now take a shower,> she says.

I take off the nightgown and throw it on the floor. I hear a sigh in my mind, but I ignore it. In the bathroom I take off the panties and look at myself in the mirror again. I really am sexy. I turn on the shower and step in. There are all kinds of products in the shower, new ones I've never heard of before. Some are for my skin and some are for my hair. Kara talks me through using them.

<Having fun?> she asks me.

I'm lathering my new body in soap and as I glide it across my new form, it sends shivers down my spine. It's a very pleasant feeling. For a moment I completely forgot about Kara and found my hands exploring my new body. When she asked me that, I had one hand on a tit and another circling the lips of my pussy.

"Fuck you," I say. She completely ruined it. I finish washing myself and step out of the shower. She talks me through blow drying my hair and styling it afterwards. Back in my room she explains how to put the bra on.

After putting my underwear on I say, "Do I have to wear a skirt?"

<Of course you don't,> she says, <But I've altered your brain a bit. You'll find that you prefer to look feminine. Pants just won't do it for you. You prefer dresses and skirts now.>

Considering what she's already done I believe her. I put on the gray suit and matching pencil skirt. She's right. I like wearing the skirt. It hugs my new ass nicely.

<Head to the bathroom. You'll find that, like with the skirts and dresses, you'll hate leaving the house without at least a little bit of makeup on. Since you're new to it I'll walk you through it, but I hope you're a fast learner because I'm never going to help you again,> she says.

In the bathroom Kara has me put on a very light amount of concealer and blush. She also has me put on lipstick which makes my lips a brighter color, but it's not flashy at all. If I didn't know better I could believe that my lips were naturally this color.

<You're practically all set. Just grab those three inch gray heels and your purse,> she says.

Figuring the heels will be like everything else I do what she says. I'm right, wearing the heels feels very natural and right. However, I've never worn heels before so it takes a moment to get used to them. My closet has more than one purse in it, but I look through them and find only one currently has anything in it. I assume that's the one I'm currently using. I put my phone, keys, and wallet in it. I walk outside and lock my door on my way out.

<That's all I'm willing to do. Frankly, talking to you disgusts me,> she says, <Maybe you'll hear from me again or maybe you won't.>

I have no way of knowing if she's still watching me. Just waiting for the right moment to speak. I just have to deal with that as I walk to work. I always walk to work. It's not very far from where I live and I don't have a car anyways.

I have always liked being able to walk around the city. Being within walking distance from everything is so nice and convenient. However, it feels different now. The stares from men, the feeling of the wind on my legs, and swishing of my ass as I walk in these heels all remind me of my new form. I'm so much weaker now and I feel so vulnerable.

Despite my new found fear I make it to work with no problems. Just like Kara said no one is surprised by my new form. I walk by people I barely know who wave at me. Others smile, but none of them look at me oddly.

I approach my office and as I open the door I hear someone say behind me, "Larissa. It's a bit late don't you think?"

I turn and see my boss. He is standing there with a worried look on his face. I try to laugh a little and say, "Yeah. Sorry, I had a late night and overslept."

His expression changes into a smile, "It's not a big deal. Just don't make a habit out of it."

"Right," I nervously laugh again. Trying to exit the conversation I start to enter my office.

He doesn't seem to think the conversation is over though and says, "You look really pretty this morning. Maybe next time I could join you on one of these late nights of yours."

Was this asshole hitting on me? I'm not sure how to respond exactly and I end up saying, "Thanks, maybe I will." I do that nervous laugh/giggle again. He nods his head, smiles, and walks away. I'm grateful he left and I enter my office.

As soon as I turn around I see my secretary, Teresa, glaring at me. I kind of just freeze there as the door shuts.

She starts speaking, "Larissa, I've told you this time and time again. If you keep doing things like this, those men won't take you seriously anymore." She stands up and walks so she is right in front of me, "Look. I love that my boss is a woman, but those men take you too lightly. And you encourage it by acting like that. You need to be firm and give him a clear no. Plus, we both know that asshole is married."

"Teresa, I-" I try to speak, but she interrupts me.

"I'm not done," Teresa says, "You also can't be coming in late like this. As a woman you need to work twice as hard to get even just half the respect the men do."

It felt strange, being scolded by my secretary like that. She has a point though. All the other people in my office in my position or higher are men.

"You're right," I tell her, "I'm sorry. I'll try to do better."

"That's all I ask," she says, "I'm rooting for you, after all."

"Thanks," I say. I head into my office and get to work. After everything that's happened it's nice to be able to just get into the flow of work and briefly forget. Of course, the day ends sooner or later and I have to go home. I try to avoid my boss for fear of him thinking I'll actually go out with him. I manage to arrive home without incident.

My relationship with Teresa is much better now that I'm a woman. Before we barely spoke. We only talked when necessary for our jobs. When I think about it more I realize that my entire workplace is male centric. We have a kind of bad work environment for the women who work there. I'll admit, I definitely didn't help. I engaged in all the toxic masculinity just like the rest of them. And I liked it too. Now I'm on the other side of it and it sucks. I blame Kara, the stupid bitch.

The next day I get ready on my own. No Kara in my head to help me. I feel that I manage just fine though Teresa helps me fix my makeup when I get to work. She isn't a fan of what I did on my own. Other than that I just work.

That's how the days go. Although I'm a woman now nothing else has changed. My life is still the same. I still go to the same shops, the same restaurants, even my gym is the same. Though I don't like how the guys stare at me while I workout. Though I do love looking at the other women in the women's locker room.

When I was a man I would have gone drinking with my other male friends on the weekend. They are no longer my friends in this reality, not that I'd want to go drinking with a bunch of men anyways. Also, Kara didn't seem to care to hook me up with any new friends either. I briefly consider heading out to a bar on my own, but quickly scrap the idea. I don't want to go because I just know I'll spend the whole night being hit on by guys.

Instead I try to get to know my new body more intimately. I load up some lesbian porn and it works. I find it so hot and I get wet so easily. Fingering myself feels great. A woman's orgasm feels amazing. No wonder all those bitches I fucked always seemed to enjoy it. No matter how much they denied it.

I spent the whole weekend masturbating while watching lesbian porn. Clearly, that's what I am now, a lesbian. It makes sense, I liked women before and I like them now. Maybe next weekend I'd try to hit up some lesbian bars.

Unfortunately, I couldn't just spend every waking moment masturbating. I still had to go to work. On Monday I get ready like usual and head out with the note in my mind to buy a vibrator. I'm wearing a white sleeveless blouse that shows off a little cleavage and a black pencil skirt to go with it. My shoes are black and I've moved up to four inches. I've also gotten more confident in my makeup skills and my lips are a nice red color. I suppose that liking to wear it has helped me learn so quickly. I walk with a bit more confidence, knowing that I must look good.

The walk starts off like normal. I'm close to work and I turn a corner. The street I'm on usually isn't very busy. The only other person on this sidewalk is a man with short black hair. He has a pretty impressive build. Clearly, he works out. I was like that when I was a man. I find myself looking at him as I am reminded of what I once was. He notices me looking at him.

I look away and hope he thinks nothing of it, but as I pass him he says, "Like what you see? I like what I see too."

I try to ignore him by walking past him, but he grabs my arm and says, "Don't be so cold, baby."

His grip is strong and I try to break free, but it's no use. This seems to anger him and he looks around. I try to see what he is looking for when I realize we are alone. No one else is on this street, no cars, no other pedestrians. He drags me into a nearby alley.

<You've certainly made a mess of this situation.>

<Kara?> I ask.

<Who else?> she says.

<I need help!> I tell her.

<Sure seems that way,> she says.

<Do something!> I say.

<Why should I? No one was there to help my sister,> she says, <But seeing that I'm so nice, I'll at least help you through this. Listen to my advice and you're sure to get through this.>

<Thank you,> I tell her.

At this point the man had fully dragged me into the alley. We had turned a corner and were in a back alley with a dead end. The only exit was the way we came in.

He continues to hold me tight and says, "You're very pretty." He leans in close to me and sniffs my hair, "I want you."

<Kara, help! I'm scared. What do I do?> I ask.

<At this point you can give up on help arriving. Your best bet is to try and appease him. Why don't you offer him a blowjob? I'm sure he'll go away after that,> she says.

<What? No way. I'm no faggot,> I tell her.

<You're a woman now. Blowing a man would be a straight thing to do. Besides, you don't really have much choice,> she says.

Fuck! Kara's right. I can't get out of this. To the man I say, "Please," my voice is shaky, "Don't hurt me. If-" I stutter a little, "If I give you a blowjob will you promise not to hurt me and to go away?"

"I kind of wanted more, but I can settle for that," he says. He lets go of me. For a brief moment I consider trying to run, but there's no way I'd outrun him. So I kneel and the rough pavement hurts my bare knees.

He just stands there. The asshole clearly expects me to do all the work. Wanting to get this over with I quickly pull down his pants. His dick is huge. It frustrates me to say it is bigger than mine was. It must be a good nine inches. I reluctantly touch it. Holding it in my soft, small hands makes it seem even bigger. I start stroking it so it gets hard.

Once it's sufficiently hard enough, I jump right into it, and put my mouth on it. It tastes fine, not terrible, but not particularly good. Hoping to finish him off fast I begin sucking. It's hard to take him in my mouth as he is so big. I don't even come close to getting him fully in my mouth as I continue to bob up and down on his cock. His expression is starting to sour so I try to pick up the pace to appease him. This does little to help until he grabs my head and starts forcing me to go even faster and deeper. He keeps going like this, practically using my mouth as a fleshlight. When his cock hits my throat I start to gag, but he doesn't release me. The best I can do is try to breathe through my nose. After way too long he finally cums. He semen is thick and there is a lot of it. He holds me there as I am forced to swallow it. When he finally releases me, I take a deep breath.

"Thanks," he says as he pulls his pants up, "That was great. I hope to see you again." He walks off.

I just continue kneeling there, disgusted with what I had just done. I feel some liquid on my face and I try to wipe it off whether it's spit or cum. As I get to my feet I notice a strange warm feeling coming from my vagina. I reach into my panties to feel what it is and come back with a moist sticky liquid. Was I turned on? From that?! No, it must be a coincidence. I brush it aside and quickly walk to work.