Soft Femboy in Making

The three of you are still in the living room. Priya’s voice is faintly audible from the spare room. The door remains closed.
You feel exposed under the two pairs of eyes. The lavender spaghetti dress suddenly feels thinner than before. Your small breasts move slightly with every breath, the soft cleavage clearly visible. The hem sits high on your thighs.
Vikram leans against the arm of the couch, openly studying you.
“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he says, voice calm but thick with interest. “Even back in college I used to imagine you softer. Longer hair. A body that was starting to look more like this. But I never expected to actually see it.” His eyes drop to your chest again. “Those little breasts are exactly the size that drives me crazy. Not big. Just soft and pretty and obvious under a dress like that. The kind I want to keep looking at… and eventually touch.”
Your face burns. You force yourself to answer instead of staying silent.
“…I can tell. The way both of you look at them. It makes me feel like I’m on display. It’s humiliating… but I haven’t pulled the dress up or crossed my arms once.”
Arjun’s mouth curves in quiet approval.
“That’s what makes it better,” he says. “A femboy who feels the humiliation and still stays open for us. Who knows we’re talking about his body and doesn’t run from it.” He takes a slow step closer. “I like how your thighs look right now. Soft. Smooth. The dress is so short that if you moved even a little more we’d see more. I keep thinking about running my hand up the inside of them… seeing how far you’d let me go before you got too embarrassed.”
A small shiver runs through you. Your voice comes out lower.
“I’d probably let you go further than I should. That’s the part that embarrasses me most. I already know I’d get quiet and still instead of stopping you.”
Vikram lets out a soft, hungry breath.
“That’s the fantasy, Karthik. A pretty boy in a dress who knows he’s supposed to feel ashamed… and still melts when we talk about using his body.” He tilts his head. “I think about making you sit between us like this. One of us touching your waist, the other playing with those soft little breasts through the fabric. Watching your face while we tell you how feminine you feel. How much we like that you’re becoming this way. Making you answer questions while you’re hard and embarrassed.”
Your thighs press together. The movement makes the dress ride up another fraction. Both men notice.
Arjun’s voice is almost gentle, but the desire underneath is clear.
“I want to hear you say more of it. Tell us what part of this gets to you the most. The clothes? The way we look at your chest? The idea of our hands on you?”
You swallow. The humiliation sits hot in your throat, but the words still come.
“…All of it. But especially the way you both talk about my body like it’s already yours to enjoy. Like these…” You glance down at the small curves of your breasts, “…exist for men who like femboys to look at and eventually play with. When you say you want to touch them, or make me feel weak, I get this rush of embarrassment… and then I want to hear more.”
Vikram’s eyes are dark.
“Good. Because there’s more.” He moves closer until he is standing near the other side of you. “I want to dress you myself one day. Pick the shortest dress. Adjust the straps so your cleavage shows exactly how I like it. Then sit you down and take my time looking. Teasing. Making you blush while I tell you every filthy thing I want to do to that soft body. I want to watch you squirm and still stay where I put you.”
Arjun adds, voice low, “And I want the part where you start asking for it. Not just allowing it. Actually asking. That’s when a femboy really feels won. When the same boy who used to feel ashamed of wanting this starts needing the attention and the hands and the dirty talk.”
You feel your pulse in your throat. Your small breasts rise and fall a little faster under the thin dress.
“…You’re both describing things that make me feel really weak,” you admit, almost whispering. “Feminine. Like I’m not supposed to be the man in the room anymore. And the worst part is that some part of me already likes the idea of being that weak for the right men.”
A short silence follows. Both of them are looking at you with open, hungry satisfaction.
Vikram speaks first, quieter now.
“That’s why we like femboys so much, Karthik. Not just the soft face or the little breasts or the pretty thighs. It’s this. The moment a boy starts realizing he wants to be made soft and used and proud of how feminine he feels… and he still gets embarrassed by it. That combination is addictive.”
Arjun nods once, eyes never leaving you.
“You’re already halfway there. You’re standing here in a dress that shows almost everything, listening to two men talk about how they want to enjoy your body, and instead of shutting it down you’re giving us more honest answers.” His voice drops. “That makes us proud. And it makes us want more.”
You look between them, face hot, body warm, the short lavender dress suddenly feeling like the only thing keeping you from being completely exposed under their eyes.
“…I don’t know how far this is going to go,” you say softly. “But I know I’m not telling you to stop.”
Both men smile — slow, hungry, and quietly triumphant.
From the spare room, Priya’s voice is still talking on her call.
She planned this.
You are almost certain of it now.