The party was in full swing—cheap beer, pounding music, bodies pressed together in the cramped living room of some senior's off-campus house. Sarah clutched her red cup and leaned into Joe's shoulder, content. He was sweet. A bit nerdy maybe—skinny, brown hair, glasses—but hers.
"Yo, check this out!" Some guy—Brad, maybe?—waved a box. Bright pink, glittery lettering: ROLE WITH IT: TWENTY QUESTIONS. "Found it in the attic. Instructions say you stick a name on someone's head, they gotta guess who they are. Get it right, you win. Get it wrong..." He shrugged. "Dunno. Let's find out."
Someone scrawled a name on a post-it. Sarah didn't see what. Before she could object, Brad slapped it onto Joe's forehead.
"Hey—" Joe started.
"Rules are rules, bro! Twenty yes-or-no questions. We only answer yes or no. Guess who you are and you win!"
Joe rolled his eyes but played along. "Fine. Question one: Am I female?"
"Yes."
The word hung in the air. Sarah felt something—like a ripple, a shift—and suddenly Joe was... different. Still Joe, recognisably, but female. Softer jaw, slight swell at the chest, narrower shoulders. She—he—stood there in an oversized band tee and jeans, blinking.
No one else seemed to notice. Sarah's cup was still in her hand. The party continued.
"Weird," Sarah murmured, but the concern wouldn't quite form. It was like trying to hold water.
"Question two," Joe pressed on, oblivious. "Am I a celebrity?"
"No."
Nothing happened. A few people laughed.
"Am I over thirty?"
"No."
"Am I a teacher?"
"No."
Two wrong. Joe frowned, feeling the post-it on her forehead. Something was itching underneath it—like a whisper at the edge of hearing. You know you want to guess...
She changed tack.
"Am I blonde?"
"Yes."
Mmmmmh. The sound escaped Joe's lips before she could stop it. Her brown hair shimmered, lightened, stretched—silky platinum-blonde cascading past her shoulders, thick and lustrous. She ran her fingers through it and shivered.
(Oh fuck that feels good—)
"Looking good, Joe!" someone hooted. Sarah laughed along, though her stomach tightened.
"Do I work out?"
"Yes."
Joe's body tightened. The softness of her female form firmed, toned, became sculpted. Her legs lengthened, lean and tanned. Her stomach flattened into subtle definition. She stretched, feeling the new power in her limbs, and grinned.
(Fuck yes—)
"Do I have a perfect ass?"
"Yes."
Her jeans strained. Her ass swelled—round, firm, a juicy bubble that jutted out like it was begging to be grabbed. Joe reached back and squeezed it, biting her lip.
"Oh my god," she whispered.
"Do I have big, perfect tits?"
"Yes."
The band tee tented. Swelled. Ripped. D-cup breasts, impossibly round and perky, burst free, barely contained by a lacy pink bra that hadn't existed moments before. Joe moaned—actually moaned—cupping them, feeling the weight, the sensitivity.
(Oh god oh fuck they're so sensitive I can't—)
"Joe..." Sarah said weakly, but her boyfriend wasn't listening. Her boyfriend was squeezing her new tits in the middle of the party and loving it.
"Do I have a tight pussy?"
"Yes."
Joe's hand flew between her thighs. The jeans had become a tiny skirt at some point—she hadn't noticed when—and her fingers pressed against damp lace. She gasped. The sensation was overwhelming—hot, slick, clenching. Her pussy tightened impossibly, a perfect little vice, and she could feel how wet she was getting.
"Oh fuck—" she whimpered, fingers pressing harder. (So tight so wet need something inside need—)
"Do I have a perfect asshole?"
"Yes."
Her other hand reached back, fingers brushing the tight little rosebud beneath her perfect cheeks. She shuddered. It was sensitive—so sensitive—tingling with potential. A wicked thought flickered through her mind: I could take cock there too. I could take it anywhere.
She was built for pleasure.
"Am I popular?"
"Yes."
The room shifted. People turned—no longer amused, but drawn. Hungry for attention. For her attention. Joe felt it like a drug, a surge of validation flooding her brain. She stood taller. Tossed her hair.
"Am I pretty?"
"Yes."
Her face rearranged. Fuller lips, cockier expression, higher cheekbones. Long lashes fluttered over eyes that were turning—blue, piercing, cruel. Her skin bronzed. Her nails lengthened, painted pink.
(Who am I who am I I'm so close—)
"Do I have hot nails and makeup?"
"Yes."
Perfect winged eyeliner. Contour. Glossy pink lips. Acrylics. Joe—no, not-Joe—examined her flawless hands and felt a rush of pure, bratty satisfaction.
"Am I... Ashley Spencer?"
"YES."
The transformation slammed home.
She grew three inches. Her body filled out—gym-toned perfection, tanned and tight. Her clothes reformed into a tiny pink crop top and matching mini-skirt, heels that added four inches. A designer bag appeared at her shoulder. Her phone—pink case, naturally—pinged with notifications.
Ashley Spencer stood in the middle of the party, exactly where she belonged.
She reached up, peeled the post-it from her forehead, and crumpled it in her perfect pink nails.
"Like, obviously," she sneered, tossing it over her shoulder.
Her blue eyes scanned the room and landed on Sarah, who was staring with a confused, hollow expression.
"Can I help you?" Ashley snapped. "You're in my way, loser."
Sarah opened her mouth. That's my boyfriend. That's Joe. We were... we were...
What were they?
"You look so clueless right now," Ashley continued, lip curling. "Did you actually think you could talk to me? Ew." She shouldered past, knocking Sarah's cup from her hand.
Two guys—hot, muscular, exactly the type—fell into step beside her. She grabbed them by their collars, dragging them toward the bedroom.
"Come on, boys. Ashley's bored."
The door slammed.
---
The bedroom was dark except for the streetlight filtering through the blinds. Ashley pushed the first guy—Tyler, some quarterback—onto the bed and straddled him while the second, some thick-necked frat boy whose name she didn't care to remember, positioned himself behind her.
She was already wet. Had been since the transformation. Her body hummed with need—insatiable, greedy, perfect.
Tyler's cock was thick and hard against her thigh. She pulled her crop top over her head, set her perfect tits free, and wrapped her pink-manicured fingers around his shaft.
"Mmmmmh," she purred, stroking him slowly. "Let's play a game, baby."
She leaned down, letting her blonde hair fall across his chest, and dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock. He groaned.
"Twenty questions," she whispered. "But I already know all the answers."
She took him into her mouth—slowly, deliberately, lips sealed tight as she sank down his length. Her tongue swirled. Her cheeks hollowed. She pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him through her lashes.
"Do I give the best blowjobs?"
"Fuck—yes—" Tyler gasped, hands fisting the sheets.
Ashley smiled around his cock and took him deeper, bobbing her head in long, luxurious strokes. She could feel the frat boy behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his cock nudging at her entrance.
She pulled off again, a string of saliva connecting her lips to Tyler's tip. "Do I have the tightest pussy?"
The frat boy pushed into her and they both moaned.
"Oh my god—" he choked out. "So fucking tight—yes—"
Ashley threw her head back and laughed, high and cruel and delighted. Her pussy clenched around him like a vice, dripping wet, impossibly snug. She rocked back onto his cock, feeling every inch stretch her out, and bent forward to take Tyler between her lips again.
She was spitroasted between them—two big cocks filling her from both ends—and it felt like winning. Like power. Like everything she was always meant to be.
Tyler's hands found her tits, squeezing, pinching her nipples. She moaned around his shaft, the vibration making him twitch. The frat boy grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
Ashley pulled off Tyler's cock with a gasp, stroking him rapidly, her blue eyes locked on his desperate face.
"Do I look pretty with your cum on my tits?"
"Fuck—yes—Ashley, please—"
She laughed again and sank her mouth down to his balls, sucking one gently while her hand worked his shaft. The frat boy was pounding her now, grunting, his rhythm turning erratic.
"Cum on my tits," she commanded, pulling off Tyler and turning her upper body just enough to present her perfect chest. "Do it. Now."
Tyler stroked himself twice and exploded—thick ropes of hot white splashing across her D-cups, coating her smooth tanned skin. Ashley shuddered with delight, rubbing it in with her fingers, bringing them to her lips to taste.
"Mmmmmh. Delicious."
The frat boy slammed into her one final time and emptied himself inside her, groaning her name like a prayer. Ashley clenched around him, milking every drop, her own orgasm rippling through her body.
---
Through the crack in the door, Sarah watched.
She watched the blonde goddess—who was that again?—wipe cum from her tits and lick her fingers clean. Watched her push the two guys away and check her phone. Watched her reapply her lip gloss in the mirror like nothing had happened.
Joe, Sarah thought one last time.
The name dissolved.
---
Ashley adjusted her top in the bedroom mirror and smirked. She didn't remember any Joe. Why would she? She'd always been here. Always been this.
The two guys were pulling their clothes back on, staring at her like she was a goddess. Which, obviously, she was.
Ashley pulled out her phone. Opened the camera. Flipped it to selfie mode.
Cum still glistened on her chest—thick white streaks across those perfect D-cups, a drop clinging to her collarbone. Her blonde hair was messy. Her lip gloss slightly smeared. Her eye makeup just a little smudged.
She looked fucked.
She looked perfect.
She pouted at the camera—full lips, bedroom eyes, cum on her tits like jewelry—and snapped. Then another. And another. Different angles. Different expressions. All of them gorgeous. All of them her.
She scrolled through the photos, selecting the best one. The one where the cum caught the light just right, where her tits looked impossibly round, where her expression said I own you.
Posted to her private story. Caption: 💕👑
The likes started rolling in within seconds.
Ashley Spencer checked her reflection one more time. Still covered in cum. Still flawless. Still her.
Fred adjusted his glasses for the third time as he knocked on the door of the cramped flat in the roughest part of campus housing. Kayla opened the door almost immediately, leaning against the frame with a smirk that made his stomach twist.
She was everything his girlfriend, Priya, warned him about. Tight crop top showing off her toned midriff, low slung joggers that hugged her curves, exposing the waist line of a pink thong underneath. Big thick hoop earrings swinging as she tilted her head.
"Alright, nerd boy." Kayla said, stepping aside. "Come in then. Don't just stand there gawkin'." Her accent was pure estate. Sharp, confident, and laced with that mocking edge that made Priya shrink whenever Kayla passed her in the halls.
Fred mumbled a hello and followed her inside. The place smelled like cheap perfume and takeaway. A single textbook, practically brand new, was tossed on the coffee table next to empty energy drink cans.
Priya had begged him not to do this. "She bullies me constantly," she'd said, eyes wide. "Always calling me a frigid little virgin in front of everyone. Why help her?" But Fred needed the cash, and besides, it was just tutoring. Professional.
They sat on the sofa, Kayla closer than necessary, her thigh brushing his as she flipped open the book. She smelled like vanilla and smoke. Fred tried to focus on derivatives, explaining chain rule for the third time while she chewed her gum loudly, nodding like she half understood.
"Want a drink?" She asked suddenly, standing up. "You're proper sweatin'."
"Uh, sure. Water's fine."
She grinned and sauntered to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of cloudy lemonade. As she handed him one, her hand "slipped" causing the whole glass to be tipped, ice cold liquid splashing down his chest, soaking his shirt and jeans instantly.
"Oh shit!" Kayla laughed, not sounding sorry at all. "Clumsy me. You're drenched, babe."
Fred stood up quickly, dripping on the carpet. "It's... it's fine."
"Nah, can't have you sittin' there freezin'." She waved a hand dismissively. "My ex left some clothes here. Tracksuit and that. Go change in the bathroom before you catch cold."
She disappeared into her bedroom and came back with a folded bundle containing a shiny black Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a matching top, the kind with white stripes down the sides. Fred hesitated, but he was shivering, clothes clinging uncomfortably.
"Thanks." He muttered, taking them and heading to the tiny bathroom.
He closed the door and peeled off his wet things, hanging them on the towel rail. The tracksuit felt foreign as he pulled it on. Too baggy in some places, tight in others, the material swishy and synthetic against his skin. He looked in the mirror and cringed. He looked ridiculous, like he was wearing a costume.
Just as he adjusted the waistband, the door swung open. Kayla strolled in without knocking, eyes raking over him slowly.
"Fuck me, you look funny don’t ya?" She said with a snigger. "Don’t worry though, you’re gonna look mint when this is done."
She stepped closer, pulling a thick gold ring from her pocket. It was heavy looking, engraved with weird patterns that seemed to shimmer. Markings that seemed match the ones on her earrings. His confusion deepened.
"What do you mean 'when this is done'? And you shouldn't just walk in—"
Kayla's smirk widened, predatory. She closed the distance in one stride, her hand holding the ring sliding boldly down the front of the tracksuit bottoms before he could react.
Fred jolted back against the sink. "Kayla! Stop I’m flattered, really, but I have a girlfriend."
"Yeah." She purred, fingers already wrapping around him, stroking once with deliberate slowness. "And you're gonna break her little virgin heart when you fuck me senseless."
Before he could protest again, she pushed the ring over the tip of his cock, sliding it firmly down the shaft. It was cold metal at first, then impossibly warm. Fred gasped, trying to pull away, but her grip held him in place as the ring settled at the base and then magically tightened.
Not painfully. Perfectly. Like it was made for him.
"What the… get it off!" He stammered, but his voice cracked as the first wave hit. Kayla stepped back to watch the transformation in glee.
Pleasure, raw and electric, surged through his veins. His knees buckled slightly as heat bloomed from the ring, spreading outward.
“Don’t fight it babes, soon you’ll be a proper fit fella. A sexy bastard of a man. My man.” Kayla purred as she watched the scene unfold.
Muscles erupting across his body, shoulders broadening, arms thickening, chest pushing against the tracksuit until the fabric strained. His legs lengthened, thighs filling out the joggers properly now, calves defined.
He stared down in horror and fascination as his cock thickened and lengthened beneath his waist, the gold ring expanding seamlessly with him, glinting against new, impressive size.
Seeing the new outline in his pants, Kayla licked her lips with a same slutty grin.
"Told you." She said softly. "Proper fit."
Fred stared at his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror, barely recognising the man staring back. Broad shoulders strained the Adidas top, pecs pushing out firm and defined, abs visible even through the fabric. His jaw was sharper, stubble thicker, eyes darker with something hungry in them. And lower the bulge in the tracksuit bottoms was obscene.
The pleasure hummed under his skin, electric and addictive and yet a part of him was defiant.
"What the fuck did you do to me, you fuckin' slag?" The words tore out of him, rough and guttural, the accent thick, pure estate, pure chav. It rolled off his tongue like he'd spoken that way his whole life.
Kayla leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed under her chest, pushing her tits up as she grinned wide.
“I made you better babes. I did it because you’re the smartest cunt in this whole uni, ain’t ya?” She took a predatory step towards him. “Top of every class. But it was being wasted on goody goody shite.”
“I needed someone with a brain.” She continued, eyes gleaming wickedly. “My ex had the muscle but he was thick as shit. I want all these estates bending the knee for me. For us.”
“You think I’m going to let some tart like you manipulate me? Change me?” Fred growled.
"Oh yeah, baby, that’s it become a mean bastard. Call me names, take what you want. I know you want to." She purred, voice dripping with heat.
Fred's breath caught. Something twisted hard in his gut. A raw, pounding want he'd never felt before. Not for anyone, and definitely not for a girl like her. Girls like Kayla had always been background noise. Loud, brash, sexual, everything soft little Priya wasn't.
But now his eyes dragged over her. Those full lips painted glossy pink, the way her joggers clung to her arse, the hungry gleam in her eyes. His cock throbbed against the ring, heavy and aching.
He tried to fight it. This wasn't him. He had a girlfriend. Sweet, quiet Priya who was probably waiting for him right now at home, snuggled up in front of the tv with the next episode of their favourite show ready to go.
But then the voice came, low, rough, unmistakably his new voice, whispering straight into his brain.
“Kayla’s lips are gonna look so fuckin' good wrapped around my monster.”
The thought hit like a punch. He couldn't shake it. Couldn't even try to disagree. His mouth went dry watching her tongue dart out to wet her bottom lip.
Kayla stepped closer, fingers trailing up his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle through the fabric. Every touch sent sparks straight to his balls.
"You feel it, don't ya?" She murmured. "That fire. Stop fightin' it, babe. Embrace it. Own it."
Fred's hand moved before his brain caught up, grabbing her wrist, then sliding up to tangle in her hair. The confidence surged through him, animal and unstoppable.
"Get on your knees you slapper." He growled, voice low and dangerous. "Suck me off, then we’ll talk about the estates and how to take them over."
Kayla's eyes flashed with pure lust. Not just for his new look but the ambition she could see in his eyes. She dropped instantly, knees hitting the bathroom tiles as she looked up at him, smirking like she'd won.
"Yes, babe!" She breathed, fingers already hooking into his waistband. "Be an utter bastard. Fuck my slutty little mouth."
A week blurred past in a haze of smoke, bass heavy music, and the kind of confidence Fred never knew he had. Of course he didn’t see himself as Fred anymore. Fred was weak, soft. No he was Allie now. Now he strutted through the estates in fresh tracksuits, gold chain swinging against his chest, lads nodding respect as he passed. Kayla was always glued to his side, arm looped through his, her laughter sharp and possessive.
Kayla had been right to pick him though. His mind was sharp and clever, he could see patterns, trends like no one else. Now that he had had a personality shift he was using his brains to take over the drug business in the estates. In the short space of a week he had already taken over the turf of no less than three dealers.
Kayla couldn’t have been happier. It certainly helped that Allie was a demon in the sack on top of his ruthlessness.
By contrast, Priya couldn’t have been having a worse time. She felt abandoned, betrayed. Texts unread, calls ignored. Occasionally Alfie felt a flicker of something, guilt maybe, but it drowned fast under the rush of power, of Kayla’s nails digging into his back as they fucked, of the voice in his head that sounded exactly like him now. “She was never enough for you, bruv.”
He was committed to this new version of himself now, addicted. But one person still held out hope that Fred was still buried in there somewhere, it’s what gave her the courage to slip into Kayla’s flat while they were out.
Priya’s heart pounded as she crept through the flat, the door clicking shut behind. Kayla didn’t bother to lock the door, not anymore, not since Alfie was her enforcer.
The place reeked of perfume, vape smoke, and cold chips. She’d come here for answers. Fred, the Fred she knew, had vanished overnight. Replaced by some tracksuit wearing, cocky stranger who strutted the estates with Kayla glued to his side. She had to know what that bitch had done to him.
Priya rifled quietly through drawers, under the sofa cushions, anywhere that might hide a clue. Maybe he was being drugged, maybe brainwashed, maybe blackmailed, whatever the case she was sure the something in the flat would tell her. But there was nothing. Just makeup, empty cans, and a pile of Adidas boxes. She was crouched by the coffee table when the front door rattled.
Keys jangled. Voices, Alfie’s new rough chav drawl and Kayla’s sharp laugh.
Panic surged. Priya straightened too fast, knocking an empty energy drink can to the floor. It clattered loudly. The door swung open.
Alfie filled the frame first, broader than she remembered, gold chain glinting against his black tracksuit top. Kayla was tucked under his arm, pink velour clinging to her curves, her massive hoops swinging from her ears.
Priya’s cheeks burned, afraid that she was caught but still resolute in her mission. "Fred… we need to talk. This isn’t you."
Kayla spoke first, stepping forward with that lazy, cruel smirk. "Oh look, it’s the little library mouse. Snuck in like a proper thief, did ya? Still whingin’ that I stole your man?"
Priya ignored her, eyes pleading with Alfie. "What happened to you? Please, tell me what she did."
Kayla laughed louder. "I didn’t do anything to him, love, this is him. The real him. I just made him realize he was wasting his time with a frigid bit CG like you. Maybe if you were a proper woman, one who could actually keep a bloke like Alfie interested, you wouldn’t be standin’ here snoopin’ like a desperate mug."
The words sliced deep. Something inside Priya snapped. She launched herself at Kayla with a furious cry, tackling the taller girl to the grubby carpet. They hit the floor hard, rolling in a tangle of limbs and hair pulling. Kayla snarled, trying to pin her, but Priya fought wild and desperate, nails raking, knees jabbing.
Alfie leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching with an amused smirk. "Go on then, girls. Sort it out." Deep down in his psyche though, Fred was cheering on Priya.
Priya twisted on top for a second, rage blinding her. She grabbed at those swinging gold hoops and yanked with everything she had. They ripped free easily. Too easily. No blood, no tear, just clipped on like cheap costume jewellery.
Priya scrambled back, panting, the heavy hoops clutched in her fist. Kayla froze, still on the ground, hands flying to bare ears. Then the change began.
Her face softened, sharp edges melting away. Tan faded to pale. Curves deflated, posture shrinking inward. Bleached hair turned red and flattened losing its volume. Even her pink tracksuit seemed to warp, turning into a conservative cardigan and beige maxi skirt.
She pushed herself up slowly, blinking in confusion, looking at herself in the mirror. "No, this shouldn’t be able to happen!" She said, voice crisp and middle class, trembling. "Give those back. Please! I need them! I need to be her."
Alfie’s smirk faltered for the first time, confused about what he was seeing. A part of him he thought he had crushed into submission was breaking through. “Pri? Oh god what have I become?” He said with guilt suddenly racking his mind.
She understood now. If these earrings had turned Kayla from some plain and ordinary girl into a mega chav, then something similar was effecting Alfie. Something tied to the earrings. She had to destroy the earrings and save him. But before she could make her move, Kayla made hers.
Kayla lunged, hands outstretched and desperate. "Give them here!"
Priya yelped, instinctively jerking her arm up and away to protect the earrings. The motion brought her hand high, level with her head and dangerously close to her own ear.
One of the hoops seemed to shimmer, then leapt from her fingers like it had a mind of its own. It snapped onto her left earlobe with a sharp, magnetic click. Her eyes went instantly pale and her body became frozen.
Heat slammed into her like a tidal wave.
“No, uhhh, no, get it off!” Her mind reeled in panic as the changes began. Her black hair twisted violently upward, yanking itself into a viciously tight, high ponytail. Skin flushed hotter, deeper, glowing. Curves exploded, chest swelling, hips widening, waist pulling in.
Then the voice came. Not in her ears, but inside her head. Smooth, filthy, dripping with estate honey.
“There you are, love. I’ve been waitin’ for someone proper.” Purred the voice.
Priya flinched, clutching the second hoop tighter, keeping it away from her other ear. “No. Get out of my head.”
The voice laughed softly, warm and coaxing.
“I felt it in you, Priya. That fire. That passion buried under all them books and good girl smiles. Kayla had the desire, but you, mmmm you’ve got the hunger. Real hunger. I could sense it the moment you walked in. That’s why I let you rip me off so easy. I wanted out. I wanted you.”
Priya’s breath caught. “You… chose me?”
“Course I did, babe. You’re stronger. Smarter. More worthy of my power. Kayla was just a poser, a placeholder, loud and pretty, but empty inside. You? You’re the real deal. You’ve got ambition burnin’ hot. I can make you everything you secretly crave. Top bitch. Queen of the estate. Everyone on their knees for you. Go on, feel how good it is.”
Priya felt feeling come back to her limbs and to her body. She glanced down. Her body now a wet dream, her curves so lethal they could kill. Her free hand brushed over new tits, and a shiver of pleasure shot straight between her legs.
“I don’t want this.” She said, but her voice wavered. “I’m not… her.”
“No, you’re not.” The earrings purred. “You’ll be better. Badder. Hotter. Meaner. Imagine it, walking in and owning every room. Lads drooling. Girls like Kayla scared to even breathe wrong. Alfie not just wanting you again but worshipping you proper. You have the power over him, to shape him. Kayla gave him a good start but you can mould him into a better thug, a king, a god. All that power… yours.”
She looked at Alfie. His mind at war. He was staring, lips parted, the bulge in his tracksuit obscene. The old Priya would have felt sick. This new heat curling in her belly felt… intoxicating.
“Mmmm yes he wants me to be a proper babe and I can make him so much more. No, what am I saying?!” She whispered, weaker now. “I’m going to graduate, I’m going to-”
“-Be some quiet little virgin nobody while girls like the one you’re becoming take everything? Nah, love. You deserve more. You’ve always deserved more. You’re always wanted more. Admit it.”
Priya’s lips parted, tongue darting out to taste the gloss that had appeared from nowhere. The idea sank in like hooks.
Top bitch. Queen chav. Alfie’s woman.
The passion the earrings sensed, the quiet rage, the hidden desire to be seen, to be feared, to be wanted, flooded her. The resistance shattered. Intrigue turned to intoxication. Then full, venomous embrace.
“Mmmm yessss, oh god yessss. I deserves this. I want this!” Priya groaned as a slow, wicked smile spread across her face. She lifted the second earring slowly, watching it glint.
“That’s my girl. Take it all.” The voice purred but it was now her own voice in her head, her new conscience.
“Fuck it, make me unstoppable.” She breathed. She pressed the hoop to her right ear. It snapped on eagerly. The transformation roared to life.
Her hoodie and jeans dissolved, reforming into slick black latex that moulded to her new body. A tiny, glossy dress riding high on her thighs. sleeveless, low-cut, dangerously short. Heels materialised, forcing her taller. Ponytail yanked impossibly tighter. Makeup thickened, smoky eyes, glossy lips, sharp contour.
“Mmmm that’s fuckin’ better.” She moaned inside her head. She rolled her shoulders, letting the latex creak, and turned to Alfie with a predator’s grin. His cock ring throbbed for her.
“Fuck me Priya, you’re an absolute stunner.” He said, in genuine awe and lust. The small part of him that was Fred didn’t disappear, it was instantly and willingly absorbed into Alfie the moment his eyes saw the new Priya.
“Forget Priya, babe.” She purred, voice thick estate filth, low and dangerous. “It’s Riya now. Slag queen, Chav Goddess Riya.”
She stepped toward him, hips swaying, heels clicking. “Miss me, babe?” She purred, voice low and rough, pure council estate honey laced with venom.
Alfie’s mouth went dry. She tilted her head, smile sharpening. “Because I’ve been missin’ you.”
He couldn’t help it. His hands were everywhere: sliding up the glossy black latex over her hips, gripping the flared skirt and bunching it higher, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. He pressed her back against the wall, mouth crashing onto hers, hungry and rough.
Riya laughed into the kiss, low, wicked, victorious. She tilted her head to give him better access to her neck.
Behind them, Kayla was still there, crumpled near the sofa, tears streaking her plain face.
“Alfie… please!” She whispered, voice small and broken. “Help me. Get them back. They’re mine. She’s not supposed to have them. Remember that I made you!”
Riya didn’t even glance her way. She was too busy grinding against the hard line of Alfie’s cock through his tracksuit, smirking into his mouth as his hands roamed higher, squeezing her arse like he owned it.
The pleading continued, louder now, desperate. “Alfie, listen to me! Shes just a fake, I’m the real deal! You have to help me take them off her-”
Riya finally broke the kiss, head turning slow and deliberate. Her smoky eyes flicked to the trembling girl like she was noticing a stain on the carpet.
“Piss off, the only fake bitch here is you.” Riya said flatly, then turned back to Alfie, nipping at his bottom lip.
But Kayla didn’t stop. “Please, Alfie, I’m begging you, she’d just trash I can be-”
Riya’s hand shot out in a blur. The slap cracked across the girl’s cheek, sharp, stinging, loud enough to echo off the thin walls. The girl stumbled back, hand flying to her face, eyes wide with shock.
Riya stepped forward, towering in her heels, latex gleaming under the cheap overhead light. “I gave you a chance yeah? Now fuck off back to whatever boring middle class existence you crawled out of.” She hissed, voice pure venom. “You’re nothin’ now. No hoops, no man, no power here. Run along, princess. Go cry to mummy.”
Kayla stared for one frozen second, then turned and bolted, door banging open and shut behind her as she fled down the corridor.
Alfie’s breath was ragged. His hands hadn’t left Riya’s body, if anything, they gripped tighter, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts through the low cut latex. His cock strained painfully against the fabric, the gold ring at the base throbbing in time with his pulse.
Riya turned back to him slowly, a slow, filthy smile spreading across her glossy lips. She could feel how hard he was, how turned on he’d gotten watching her put Kayla in her place. She was turned on by it herself.
She slid one manicured hand down his waist, palming the thick outline of him through the tracksuit.
“Let’s not waste this stiffy then yeah?” She purred, squeezing just hard enough to make him groan.
Her other hand hooked into his waistband, tugging him toward the bedroom. Alfie followed without a word, eyes dark with hunger, already lost in the new queen of the estate.
Francis adjusted the paper bag in his sweaty grip for the third time in as many blocks. The February wind cut straight through his thin hoodie, but he barely noticed. Inside the bag was the result of three weeks of anxious research and overtime at his job.
But it was worth it because in the bag was a delicate silver necklace with a tiny D20 pendant, the kind of understated nerdy thing Charlotte would probably squeak over in that quiet, delighted way of hers.
He wasn’t her boyfriend, but he hoped the necklace would solve that. Not because she would be so taken by the necklace but because it was enchanted to make her fall in love with him. Maybe it was all bullshit and the magic store he bought it from was a scam, but he was sick of his love being unrequited.
The mysterious shopkeeper guaranteed it would work. Hell he even took some of Francis’ blood to ‘infuse’ the gift, promising that whoever wore the necklace would fall deeply in love with him. Francis didn’t know why but he believed him.
Truly the only thing that gave him pause on whether it would work now was the fact that he dropped the necklace before he even left the shop. Although it wasn’t his fault, it was the that dickhead Luke, so call ‘king of the estates’.
Francis had no idea why Luke was in the store but in his excitement at receiving the gift that would hopefully change his life, he didn’t see the brick wall that was Luke and crashed right into him.
“Oi, watch where you’re going cunt.” Luke had snarled.
Francis stumbled back, glasses sliding down his nose, blurring his vision. His gift flying from his hands. Thankfully for Francis, Luke was in a rush.
Luke looked down at the ground, looking for his own valentines gift that had fallen after the collision. Seeing what he thought was his, he scooped it up.
“Sorry, sorry!” Francis mumbled, already retreating, picking up the remaining bag. “Didn’t see you.”
Luke snorted, gave him a once over that seemed to make francis feel even smaller. “Whatever, limp dick.”
They brushed past each other without another word.
Fifteen minutes later Francis was pushing open the glass door of Byte & Brew, the little cafe tucked between a comic shop and a retro arcade. The bell jingled. Charlotte was already at their usual table, hunched over her Switch, earbuds in, tongue poking out in concentration. Her dark hair was covering as much of her face as usual. She looked up, saw him, and her whole face softened.
“Hey, you.” She said, pulling one earbud out.
“Hey.” Francis slid into the booth opposite her, heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always did. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Wind’s awful. So, um… I got you something. It’s not much, but…” He pushed the pink gift bag across the scratched tabletop.
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Francis. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. For a long time actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Go on. Open it.”
She untied the ribbon with careful fingers. The outside of the bag, in glittery silver script she hadn’t noticed before, read: Be My Queen. “He finally made the first move.” She thought to herself. She paused for half a second, a tiny smile flickering, then pulled out the tissue and lifted the small velvet box.
When she flipped the lid open, revealing oversized gold hoop earrings. They were massive, almost cartoonishly big, the kind of jewelry that belonged on someone posing in a club bathroom mirror, not on Charlotte.
“Oh.” Charlotte said softly.
Francis’s stomach dropped through the floor. He opened his mouth to explain, wrong bag, must have grabbed that brute Luke’s, but the words stuck. She was already looking at him with that gentle, patient expression she always used when he got flustered. He couldn’t bear to make it worse.
“They’re… really something.” She finished, voice neutral.
“Yeah.” He croaked, trying to cover. “I just thought… maybe… you’d like them?”
Charlotte stared at the hoops for a long moment. Then she closed the box with a quiet click.
“I’m gonna pop to the bathroom for a sec, okay? Be right back.”
She slid out of the booth, gift bag clutched to her chest, and disappeared down the narrow hallway.
In the single stall bathroom, Charlotte locked the door and set the bag on the edge of the sink. She opened the box again. The earrings looked even larger under the fluorescent light, gaudy, loud, everything she usually avoided. She didn’t own a single piece of jewelry that wasn’t a stud or a thin chain. These things would scream. They would demand attention. She hated attention.
But Francis had picked them out. Francis, who got anxious buying birthday cards, who triple checked every gift receipt, who once spent twenty minutes agonizing over whether she’d prefer the blue or the teal dice set. He’d chosen these for her. And written Be My Queen on the bag like it was the most natural thing in the world. That meant something.
She had waited for so long to make the move. Ever since they met in the first year of uni. It may not have been the exact gift she would have chosen for herself but at least it showed Francis making the effort to try and woo her.
She sighed, lifted one heavy hoop, and slid it through her piercing. Then the other. They felt cold against her lobes, pendulous and strange.
For a heartbeat she recoiled at her reflection, two ridiculous golden circles framing her plain face, making her look like someone trying to be someone else. She almost yanked them off.
Then she blinked. And blinked again. The disgust… softened.
The hoops caught the light every time she turned her head. The motion was kind of satisfying. Bold, even. She tilted her head one way, then the other. The weight tugged pleasantly. They framed her jaw differently. Sharper. More… deliberate.
“Huh, they’re not bad actually.” She murmured.
She reached up and gathered her hair, twisting it quickly into a high, tight ponytail. The kind she usually only wore when she was washing her face or playing an intense raid. Always preferring to hide away, now she wanted to show off the hoops.
She stared at herself for a long minute. They actually… looked kind of good.
Not “good” like her usual soft cardigans and oversized hoodies. Good like someone who didn’t care who was looking. Good like someone who’d decided to be loud today, just because she felt like it. Good like… a queen.
A small, surprised smile tugged at her mouth. She straightened her hoodie, smoothed her ponytail, and pushed open the bathroom door.
When she walked back to the booth, the hoops swung against her neck with every step. Francis looked up and froze. Charlotte slid back into her seat, chin lifted just a fraction.
“So?” She said, voice a little brighter than usual. “What do you think?”
“They… they really suit you.” He managed, cheeks going pink. “Like, properly. I didn’t think… I mean, they look good. Really good.”
Charlotte’s lips curved, just a little sharper than her usual soft smile. “Thanks. They do look good don’t they?”
He relaxed a fraction, relieved she wasn’t mad. Maybe he could even salvage this after all. Sure the earrings weren’t enchanted but she seemed to like them and they did look weirdly good on her. Now was the time to make his feelings known. “So Charlotte, I’m glad you like your gift because I wanted to make it clear how much I care about you. How much you mean to me. When I first met you three years ago-”
Charlotte nodded along at first, chin resting on her hand. Her fingers drifted up almost without thought, brushing the heavy gold hoop, rolling it gently between thumb and forefinger. The metal was warm now from her skin. She half listened to Francis, something about longing and her eyes, but her gaze slid sideways, past his shoulder, to the big plate glass window.
Across the street the neon sign of Fashion Frenzy blinked in hot pink and electric blue. Mannequins in the display wore skin tight leopard print, plunging necklines, latex everything. Girls who looked like they belonged in music videos or on corner streets sauntered past the entrance, laughing too loud, heels clicking. Charlotte’s stomach gave a strange little flip. Not revulsion. Not quite. More like… hunger.
Her hoodie suddenly felt wrong. Baggy. Invisible. She hated it.
“Let’s go shopping.” She said interrupting Francis.
“What? Now? But I was just in the middle of-” He began but she wasn’t already sliding out of the booth, ponytail bouncing.
He stared. Charlotte hated shopping. She’d once spent forty five minutes in a department store and come out with only a single pack of black ankle socks because “everything else was too much.” He opened his mouth, closed it, then scrambled for his wallet as she headed for the door.
She was already crossing the street by the time he paid. By the time he entered Fashion Frenzy Charlotte was roaming the shop like a woman possessed.
She snatched a hot pink velour tracksuit off one rack, then a black minidress off another. Within a minute she had skimpy tight clothing piled high in her arms. She disappeared into the changing rooms without a backward glance.
Francis hovered near the entrance, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, feeling like he’d wandered into someone else’s fever dream.
Charlotte slipped into the cramped changing cubicle, the door clicking shut behind her with a satisfying thud. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, harsh but forgiving on the mirror that took up most of one wall. She peeled off the hoodie first, too big, too soft, too safe, and dropped it in a heap on the bench like it had personally offended her.
She looked at the pile of clothes she had brought in. A momentary doubt slipping into her mind as to why she was there, in that dressing room, with clothes she’d never wear in a million years. But then a voice slipped into her mind, easy as silk.
“Just try one babe, just for fun.” It purred in her own voice. As if in a trance she picked up a a pair of animal print leggings and slipped them on. The fabric slid up her legs like liquid. Tight. Snug around the thighs in a way that made her pause.
“This feels… nice.” She thought. “The way it hugs. Like it’s holding me. I’ve never worn anything this fitted before. It’s kind of… flattering?”
Next she pulled on a white cropped tee, so small she could see her own heartbeat. It did however show off her figure well. A figure she honestly didn’t know she had.
She smoothed her hands down her hips. The reflection stared back, curves she hadn’t noticed an hour ago, waist dipping in sharper. A tiny thrill fluttered in her stomach.
“Francis would blush so hard if he saw me like this. Like some chav. But he picked the earrings. Maybe he wants this. Maybe I look… hot.”
She swapped for the black minidress next. Shiny. Stretchy. The neckline plunged so low she had to tug twice to keep everything contained. When she finally let go, the fabric settled like it belonged there, framing deep cleavage that hadn’t existed when she woke up this morning.
“Oh… wow. Her internal voice softened further, almost reverent. I look… sexy. Actually sexy. Not cute. Not nerdy cute. Proper sexy. The kind of girl people stare at. The kind Francis probably fantasizes about when he’s wanking.” The dirty thought gave her a wicked thrill, enough to distract her from the fact that her hair had lightened several shades.
Next came the baby pink velour tracksuit. Nearly sheer enough to see through and hugged her body so tightly it almost felt like she was wearing nothing at all.
She zipped the jacket halfway. The material pulled across her chest, strangely fuller than it should have been. She turned sideways, admiring the outline. She tossed her glasses off in near disgust, feeling it was ruining the look.
“Mmmm now this is more like it. I look proper mint now.” She said, her accent rougher, her drawl harder. “Poor little Francis is going to cream himself when I walk out, I must be his wet dream looking like this.”
However something felt off to her. It wasn’t the fact that her skin had taken on several layers of fake tan or that her nails were now somehow long fake pink acrylics. No, it was a feeling that her look wasn’t quite right.
She looked at the pile of clothes and knew what to try on next.
Francis meanwhile was starting to get worried that maybe the earrings weren’t as plain as he thought. Sure Luke had been in the same magic shop as him but what why would he need a magic gift to make someone fall in love with him. He was a known womanizer with a new girlfriend every week.
Before Francis could contemplate any further he heard slow, thunderous heels walking out of the dressing room and looked up to see a Charlotte that was quite unlike the Charlotte he had ran in after.
She emerged in latex pink pants so tight they looked painted on, the material gleaming under the store lights. Platform heels, six inches at least, clicked against the tile with every step. A white tank top barely brushing containing breasts he was sure had been several sizes smaller. Cleavage spilled over the low scoop neckline. Her high ponytail swung behind her like a whip.
“Charlotte?”
She sauntered over, hips rolling in a way that felt completely natural now. One hand on her waist, the other toying with a hoop earring.
“What d’you reckon, then?” Her voice had dropped half an octave, gained an edge. “This more of what you were after?”
He swallowed hard. “You look… uh. Wow. I mean… really wow.”
She smirked, slow and knowing. “Thought you might say that.”
She turned on her heel, admiring herself in a full length mirror and sauntering back into the store to find more clothes to wear. Francis stood frozen, heart hammering, trying to reconcile the girl in front of him with the one who’d been geeking out over puzzle games twenty minutes earlier.
He knew there had been a terrible mix up but she was undeniably stunning and better yet she seemed to be still interested in him. He thought maybe this was going to work out for the better. That thought was short lived.
“Hey what gives?” He heard a girl say, and looked over to see Charlotte gripping on tight to shiny black puffer jacket and staring daggers into a teen holding onto the other end of it.
“Sod off.” Charlotte said, voice flat but authoritative. “It’s mine.”
The girl’s grip tightened a fraction. “I had my hand on it first. I was literally about to-”
Charlotte yanked harder, pulling the jacket toward her chest. “Yeah? Well now you don’t. Piss off, yeah?”
The girl’s lip trembled. “You don’t have to be so-”
“You’re a fat cow.” Charlotte snapped, loud enough that the girl behind the counter glanced over. “If you wear this you’ll rip it with your fat fucking chubby arms. So get lost before I make you get on all fours and moo. Try me.”
The other girl’s eyes went glassy. A tear slipped free almost immediately. She let go like the jacket had burned her, took a shaky step back, then turned and hurried toward the exit, shoulders hunched, cardigan sleeves pulled over her hands.
Charlotte watched her go with a small, satisfied smirk. Then she slipped the jacket off the hanger, shrugged it on in one smooth motion, it hanging perfectly off her frame.
Francis, who’d been hovering a few feet away pretending to examine a rack of fishnet gloves, stepped closer.
“That was… really mean.” He said quietly.
Charlotte turned to him, one eyebrow arched. “I know.” Her lips curved wider. “Wasn’t it mint?”
Charlotte didn’t wait for an answer. She spun toward the nearest full length mirror, hands on hips, ponytail whipping behind her. The cropped puffer sat like it was made for her. The oversized hoops swung as she tilted her head, admiring the whole effect.
“Now I’m perfect.” She said to her reflection, voice low and pleased. “Don’t you think?” She caught Francis’s eye in the glass.
Francis eyes however drifted to the window, where he could see the teen girl outside, wiping away tears from her eyes as she waited for her uber.
He cleared his throat. “Eh, Char… I really think you hurt that girl. Don’t you think you should apologize?”
Charlotte froze. Slowly, deliberately, she turned to face him. Her expression was like she’d just caught a whiff of something rotten. Nose wrinkled, lips pursed in disgust.
“If you love that cow so much.” She said, voice low and venomous, “Why don’t you piss off outside and milk her?”
Francis recoiled as if slapped. “Charlotte-”
She cut him off with a sharp laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Go on. You’re fuckin’ annoying me now. I’ll be out when I’m done.”
She turned her back on him completely, ponytail whipping like a dismissal, and went right back to browsing as though he’d ceased to exist.
Francis stood there for a frozen second, mouth open, words dying on his tongue. Then, shoulders slumping, he shuffled toward the door. The bell chimed weakly as he pushed through it, the girl already gone by the time he got out.
He leaned against the brick wall a few metres, needing the time to think what to do. Maybe the magic shop had an antidote or something.
He didn’t get long to stew.
Heavy footsteps crunched up fast. A thick hand clamped onto his shoulder and spun him hard against the brick wall. Francis yelped, glasses sliding crooked.
Luke loomed over him, face twisted in a snarl, breath reeking of cheap vape and aggression. Behind him stood a woman that reminded Francis a lot of Charlotte. Not new Charlotte but the old kind Charlotte. Baggy hoody, hair obscuring her face, thick glasses.
“Where is it, you fuckin’ loser?” Luke growled, fingers digging in.
Francis blinked up at them, heart slamming. “Where’s… what?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Luke snapped, shoving him harder against the wall. “The pink bag. The hoops. You bumped me earlier, swapped ‘em. Those are suppose to be Bek’s. Instead I got some dork shit that’s given her a nerd disease.”
Meanwhile inside, Charlotte was trying on some of the chunky rings, thinking how easy it could be to swipe them, when she heard to commotion outside.
From her vantage point she could only see the back of Francis. He was pushed close to the window, but she almost didn’t notice him there because her gaze was so locked on the mysterious brute manhandling her friend.
Charlotte’s breath caught. At first it was just pure surprise. Then warmth bloomed low in her belly, slow at first, then spreading fast, liquid heat pooling between her thighs.
“Look at him.” The voice in her head purred, low and filthy. “Big. Brutal. Doing what he wants. No hesitation. No apologies. That’s real power. That’s what makes your cunt throb now.”
She pressed her thighs together. The latex squeaked softly. Her nipples hardened against the thin white fabric, aching. Francis whimpered something, too quiet to carry into the shop and Luke shoved harder. Francis’s head knocked back against the wall with a dull thud.
Charlotte’s pulse hammered in her ears. A flush crawled up her chest, her neck, her cheeks. This was something more than just, more than desire. This was destiny. There was something cosmically drawing herself to him and it was making her earlobes tingle. It was filling her mind up with knowledge she never had before.
Not just knowledge about the best clubs in town, the sexiest clothes to wear, or even how to turn the screws on someone but intimate knowledge about the guy outside. The guy she knew instinctively as Luke. He wasn’t a stranger. He was hers.
She didn’t notice how her breasts were swelling, slowly, then insistently, pushing outward until the straps of the crop top bit into soft, newly plush flesh. The deep plunge widened as curves spilled further over the edge, the fabric stretching taut, threads straining. She shifted and the jacket gaped open more, exposing the obscene swell.
Her lips tingled, plumping fuller, softer, glistening as if slicked with gloss she hadn’t applied. She licked them unconsciously, slow and deliberate, tasting something sweet and synthetic.
Her ponytail grew heavier and longer. Strands slipped free, lightening from honey brown it had just recently become to bright platinum blonde, lengthening past her shoulders to the small of her back.
"See how pathetic Francis looks?" Her inner voice continued, amused and cruel. "Helpless. Shaking. That’s what gets you dripping. Not sweet little boys who stammer and buy you nerd trinkets. You want the kind who’d slam you against this wall and fuck you until you can’t walk. You want to watch a real man break someone weaker just to prove he can take whatever and whoever he wants. You want Luke."
She stared, transfixed, as Luke’s fist tightened, knuckles whitening. Her arousal reaching a fever pitch. Her feet were moving before her mind. She need what she wanted. No, she knew what she needed.
Outside, Luke’s fist was cocked back, ready to smash into Francis’s face. Francis was still pinned, eyes huge behind cracked glasses, mouth open in silent terror. The door chimed as Charlotte stepped out and lazily leaned against the wall. One hand on her cocked hip, the other lazily twirling a lock of blonde hair around a long pink acrylic nail.
“You messing with my fella?” She called, voice low and amused, thick with that new chav drawl.
Luke froze mid swing. He turned, already snarling, mouth open to spit something vicious about some interfering nerdy dork like Francis.
Then he saw her. The snarl died in his throat. Eyes dragged from pink platforms up glossy latex legs, lingered on the bare midriff and the impossible cleavage heaving against the tight white tank, climbed to the sharp cheekbones, full lips, sulty eyes, and finally locked on the earrings. His earrings. The Queen hoops he’d bought for Beks, now dangling from this goddess like they’d always belonged there.
His fist dropped. Arm went slack. Mouth parted.
Francis, still crushed against the wall, tried to speak. “It’s ok, Charlotte, he’s just-”
Charlotte’s head snapped toward him so fast the ponytail whipped across her back.
“I wasn't talking to you virgin.” She spat, voice ice cold and cutting.
Francis flinched like she’d slapped him. She sauntered forward, hips rolling, breasts bouncing with every deliberate click of her heels, straight to Luke. Without hesitation she slid her arm through his free one, pressing her body against his side. Her tits squished against his bicep. The scent of cheap sweet vanilla body spray and fresh latex filled the space between them. She tilted her head up at Luke, lips curving into a slow, filthy smirk.
“I was talking to my king.” She purred, voice dripping honey and venom. “This dweeb annoying you, babe?”
Luke blinked once, twice, still half dazed, pupils blown wide. His free hand twitched like he wanted to grab her waist but didn’t quite dare yet.
His plan had been simple. Beks had been the closer thing he had to a girlfriend over the years. Loyal, fairly fit but she lacked the killer instinct. She lacked the full on queen bitch mentality he needed from a partner. If he was going to expand his operations to other estates he was going to need a girl just as ruthless as him.
That’s where the earrings had come in.
He had heard about the shop from a mate of his who swore it was as advertised. He knew Valentine’s Day would be the perfect cover and the earrings the perfect gift. But when Bek opened the box and it was that dorky necklace, he figured he might have ordered the wrong thing.
He couldn’t stop Bek from putting it on but after a few minutes he knew there was a mistake and then he remember Francis and their collision. He had went searching for Francis immediately, hoping there was time to make Bek the chav queen he needed her to be but as he drank in Charlotte he decided Bek was old news.
“Charlotte was it?” He said cupping her chin, watching her shudder in pleasure at his touch.
“That’s the old me babe. She’s dead and buried. You can call me Chantelle.” She purred, slipping her hand into his back pocket.
“Chantelle. I like that.” He said, completely enamoured by her.
“Well, you know what I like?” She prompted, squeezing his arm. He shook his head.
“I like bad bastards beating up weak like pussies.” She grinned with cruel beauty and turned her gaze towards Francis.
“Me too.” Luke replied and free fist snapped forward without warning, straight into Francis’s gut.
Francis doubled over with a choked wheeze, air punched out of him. His knees buckled. He collapsed to the cold pavement in a heap, arms wrapped around his middle, gasping.
Chantelle threw her head back and laughed, loud, cruel, delighted. The sound bounced off the brick walls like broken glass.
Bek, let out a small, horrified cry and rushed forward without thinking. The delicate silver chain with the tiny D20 pendant swung against her chest as she dropped to her knees beside Francis. The necklace Francis had meant for Charlotte.
Soft visions washed over Bek in a gentle tide of what would be her future.
Francis. Her Francis. Late nights rolling dice at his tiny kitchen table, laughing over critical fails. Him blushing when she kissed his cheek after he finally beat that owl puzzle. Her in oversized hoodies and messy buns, him in hoodies with anime prints, both of them safe and quiet and kind. Loyal. Always loyal.
He didn’t call her Bek. No that was a name for some trashy girl who lived to cause drama at every turn. No she was Rebecca. His Rebecca.
She reached out, hand trembling, to touch his shoulder.
“Hey… hey, it’s okay-”
Chantelle’s hand shot out like a viper. She grabbed a fistful of Rebecca’s hair and yanked her head back hard.
“Don’t help that fucking loser.” Chantelle hissed, voice dripping venom. “I want to see him struggle to get up. Let him crawl.”
Rebecca yelped, eyes watering, hands scrabbling uselessly at Chantelle’s wrist. Luke turned, eyes dark with heat, watching Chantelle hold Rebecca by the hair like a trophy.
“Stop, babe.” He growled, but his voice was rough, hungry. “You’re making me so fuckin’ hard watching you be a cruel cunt.”
Chantelle’s lips curved into a wicked smile. She released Rebecca’s hair with a dismissive shove, letting the other girl stumble back onto her hands and knees. She locked eyes with Luke.
“Well then.” She purred, stepping closer until her body was flush against his again. “Let’s leave these two wasters and go fuck back at the house, yeah?”
Luke’s hand slid down to grip her arse through the latex, hard, claiming. “Fuck yes!” He rasped.
He didn’t spare another glance for Francis wheezing on the ground or Rebecca kneeling beside him, necklace glinting softly in the streetlight.
Chantelle tossed her platinum ponytail over one shoulder, hoops flashing like crowns, and sauntered away with Luke’s arm slung possessively around her waist. The estate queen and her king, leaving the wreckage behind without a backward look.
MOST IMPORTANT part of being a bimbo is ya gotta be sweet!!! support others, show love, help other bimbos be the best they can, evry1 luvs a kind bimbo 💋
Your aunt had invited you out to a nice vacation with her and your uncle. You didn't think she would be the one to do it, she married into the family and tended to be a bit of a bitch sometimes, but since you turned 18, she had been becoming nicer to you. Not that you understood why of course, but it was something nice at least.
Getting to the resort with her and the family you found yourself watching her kids more and more. It was frustrating that you figured out she did this only to have a babysitter. You wanted to tell this to your uncle, but he always seemed to just go with whatever she wanted.
Finally, one day she came to you telling you to meet her at the beach and she would make it up to you. She sat down in the sandy beach and grinned, "Just watch," as she looked back and the sun started to set, she started to look younger, even hotter too. Her breasts started to fill out, she was going from a 5 to a 12. She grinned as you watched. "Only your uncle has seen this. It's why he lets me do whatever I want."
The hot slut that was your aunt looked at you, standing up from the sand, her body moving so much differently than before. "What is happening?"
"I could tell you, but honestly I am horny as fuck, me want fucky fucky."
"Why are you talking like that?"
"Me mind go bye bye, me need fucky to go back, fucky fucky now?"
You blinked, you wanted to resist but with the look in her eyes, why would you. You spent the rest of the vacation learning how much of a dirty slut your aunt was. And you loved every second. And anytime she needed a favor you knew how she was going to pay you.
You knew your sister was in trouble, over the last few months she had been acting different. She had gotten a job as an office manager, and you suspected she had been fucking her boss. She denied it of course but it was clear to you as she was wearing skimpy outfits and hiding it from your parents. She lived at home but wasn't around much either, spending her nights "out" or "working."
Finally, you had enough and confronted her. "You have to stop this; he is taking advantage of you."
"You wouldn't understand."
"I'm not a child, I do understand, I know you are fucking him, and he is using you."
"We are using each other; he isn't the only one getting something out of this.'
"Fine, you know what you are doing."
She seemed to ignore you more and more, until one day she came home and was very weird. She giggled and came to apologize.
"What happened to you?"
She giggled in a soft tone "Sir told me that I needed to make amends before I was allowed to continue."
"Sir?"
"Oh right, Mr. Hastings from work."
"You have to be kidding."
"No, his wife finally left him, and I am going to be his new wife, I love him. I will be with him and help start a family. I am going to be a good girl from now on."
You were in stunned silence as she was completely serious, she had gone from a slut just fucking at work and now looked like a submissive housewife.
Your brother was always too good looking for his own good. He was a bit of a cocky guy in middle school, then he started to get hotter, and he was becoming a huge douche bag and by college he was so full of himself it wasn't funny. He thought he could get away with anything.
You guys were with your folks and visiting a few places before he was going to head back to college, and he was always flirting with women, until he met her. The manager of a hotel didn't like how he treated one of the girls working for her and grabbed him.
She threw him into the maid's room and into a closet, something in the closet grabbed him and he moaned as she closed the door behind him. After opening the door, she saw he had already started to look feminine and was in a maid's outfit.
"I'm sorry," he meekly said.
"Oh, you will be, now you will work for me until I feel like you have really become better."
"Yes Miss," he replied.
Your parents seemed to not notice he was missing, though you did. You could swear you saw the newest maid looking like him. Anytime you approached the maid she would walk away, or you would be distracted long enough for her to move away.
By the end of the week even you were starting to forget your brother, and on your last day you saw the new maid smiling nicely at you. "Have a nice trip home," she giggled.
Your mom decided to take you on a work trip with her, you hated it so much because she never spent the time, she said she would be spending with you. Finally, you had enough and walked in on her doing research and told her you had enough of it. You were in the suite of the hotel, she was sitting at the desk she looked at you and smiled, "you will understand when you are older."
"Fuck that shit mom, this is bullshit and you know it, you come to these conferences like 4 times a year and I swear it's only to try to hook up with guys you know."
"That's not why we are here."
"This is why dad left you wasn't it?"
"Your father and I could no longer get along, so we decided to go our separate ways, we both still love you, you know that right?"
"Dad shows it."
"How about I show you what I am working on."
"Fine."
She pulled out a black dress. "Try this on."
"Ok, its nothing."
"Yeah, you might think it's nothing but here is the thing, it's going to allow you to sense the people around you to find someone compatible to you."
"Mom are you serious, that's insane."
"Go downstairs, try to go into the bar."
"Mom, I'm not 21."
"I know sweetie, just try, and if it works like it's supposed to you won't have any problems."
"Fine."
You go downstairs and walk into the bar, as a guy comes over to ask you why you are in there, you feel a warmth and tingle and soon the guy turns to walk away. You have no idea what it was, but Mom was right that you were able to get into the bar. You decided to press your luck and you went up to the bar to get a drink, as you do a guy comes over and offers to pay for it. You smile and the bartender brings the drink over and smiles at you. You sip the drink and feel warm, you started to get dizzy, and the rest of the night was a blur to you.
You woke up in the morning, you are in your room again, you don't remember too much, you got a few more drinks or so you think and ended up back in your room.
As you sit up you notice something very different, you look older, your outfit is a skimpy little set of lingerie. You look around the room looks a bit messier; your mom is gone, and it looks like your mom's research is missing. "Mom?" There is no answer, you get up and start to look around. You feel your body moving differently than normal, it must be whatever those things did to you. As you look around, you see your mom on the floor, a man holding her down.
"Look she is awake, now tell me how to get those things off her so we can use them."
Your mom spits, "you can't they merged with her, you told me you gave her booze, and I lost control of them last night after that, I was still in the testing phase."
"You stupid bitch, testing them on your own daughter. Oh well, I might as well have a little fun, seeing as I noticed last night, they adjusted for me. I wouldn't have known you got this far in your research if I didn't happen to see them in action."
"Please don't I need to get them off her, they could ruin her or worse."
"Oh, ruin her I will," he laughs "hey slut come say by to your mom."
"Mom?"
"Don't worry baby, Ill figure this all out."
You feel pleasure as you move over closer to the man.
"Lay on the floor, play with yourself slut, change into what I made you last night so your mother can watch how bad she fucked up."
You moaned as you laid down on the floor, you felt the changes happening, you couldn't stop them. They were overwhelming, and they felt so good. You started to remember him slowly changing you, molding you, fucking you.
You orgasmed as you looked up at your lover, "who's the nerdy bitch?"
"Noone my dear, let's get out of here."
"Ok, I need to get fucked it feels like hours."
"Don't worry, you'll never have to worry about not getting fucked ever again."
You knew about your brother's skills, it was a bit freaky but you did love when he was able to help you out. You did get worried about what he did to him at times, sometimes the body and personality he took over was a bit too much and the lines of acting like the person and almost becoming the person was thin. But he was always there for you, so when you met this girl at hooters and became hopeless attracted to her, you had to find out if she was the real deal when she flirted with you or just doing it for the tips.
You got a text "come to hooters, we can talk."
You drove there, and it dawned on you, she never had your number, so you had to know who it was. You got there and she was waiting and giggling "This is a hot body you know that right!"
"I didn't mean for you well I did, but I didn't think you were going to do it so quickly."
"Are you kidding, this is amazing, she is hot, and has 3 boyfriends."
"What?"
"Yeah her phone is, just wow, she has an OF too, and is popular as hell, you might not want to date her but honestly I might have more fun taking her over."
Disgusted by this news you looked at her, "well whatever, just don't get lost in her."
"OK, well if you ever wanna fuck let me know."
"Eww not with you inside there."
"Too bad, I can feel it's the only shot you got with her, she is a horny little slut but such a bitch."
"Ok I'll see you at home, don't be late for dinner."
"Ok bro see you later."
You got back home and saw the letter on the table, it was written to your mom, but when you picked it up and saw it just had an address, the letter changed and the words "I GOT HER!" appeared in the middle.
You froze as you saw her, your mom sitting outside of the hotel.
"MOM!!" you shouted.
She turned and looked at you and then grinned. You slowed to a stop in front of her "It's too late," she said purring.
"Mom please you can fight this."
"Oh you don't understand, your bully's father sent that letter yesterday, I came here, he had me over and over and over again, and it was incredible. Now there will be some changes at home, first of which you will doing all the cooking and cleaning and when I have guests over and there will be lots, you will serve them nicely, understood?"
Something in you couldn't stop yourself, "Yes Mommy."
She smiled "Good boy, now go clean, I'm going to go thank him again." She stood up and headed back into the hotel for another night of fun.
You had heard about the magical amusement park that was moving around the country, it was a hidden secret but you gotten wind of it and was looking forward to it. Finally after all the years you would get revenge on the biggest bully at school. Jeff was a man's man, he was a football player and one of the smarter guys at school, it also made him arrogant as fuck. He always felt like he was untouchable because of it.
You conned him the way he conned your ex girlfriend, he had written a note to her, she thought it was from you, when she go to the meeting, he was there, he kissed her, felt her up and fucked her. She said she hated it but honestly you know she loved it, because within a week there were rumors she was seen with him and within a month she broke up with you and was openly dating him. She went from a nice girl to a slut and then he dumped her. He got what he wanted but it was too late, she loved being a slut it seemed and started dating one of his boys.
You sent him a letter, you followed him and he went to the park, he went in, and then you waited, you wanted to see what would happen. Hours went by, the sun set, he still didn't come out, the sun rose and still nothing, you were now getting worried something worse happened.
You decided to go find out. As you were walking in a very hot girl was walking out.
She smiled at you, "oh I see it now, you did this, you set me up."
"Jeff?"
"Jasmine now. I'm sure you think this is punishment actually it's liberating for me, it worked out so much better, as a guy I was a bully because I knew I wouldn't amount to anything, but as a hot girl, god I will have so much more control. In fact I made a deal with them, I could control any guys I want as long as I send them 5 more people to be corrupted. I'm sure you didn't notice a few of my boys going in, how they end up who the fuck knows. But now I can have more fun, starting with you."
"What? No this isn't what I wanted. It wasn't supposed to be this way."
"Well it is, so why don't you get on your hands and knees and crawl to me like a good boy, a girl needs a good nerdy boy to make money. So now you will be my little piggy until I'm ready to upgrade. Unless I keep you around to torment."
Try as you might, you couldn't stop yourself from obeying, it was the first day of your new life as Jasmine's bitch.
Your sister and you were heading out for a nice little dinner in the city together. She had gotten you tickets to your favorite Broadway show and you both wanted to try some of the NYC hot spots when it came to food.
As you walked into the bar area to wait for a table to open up there was a woman in white fur.
"Hello girls."
"Hi," your sister said being nice.
"Nice to meet you."
"Thanks, you from around here?"
"I come and go" she laughed.
"We're here for the night."
"Pity, I'm sure if you were to stay longer I could show you a really amazing time."
You saw how your sister was almost enthralled by her and tapped her shoulder, and spoke up "Sorry, not to be rude or anything but it's kind of a sister thing."
"No no of course, I should apologize, honestly your girlfriend here."
"Sister"
"Sorry, of course, well you were reminding me more like my daughter and your sister kind of reminds me of the daughter I wish she was."
"You don't look old enough to have a daughter," your sister said.
"That's kind of you, I had her when I was younger, and she was like a mini me," she laughed.
The hostess came over to get you and your sister and you both headed to the table. After maybe 30 mins your sister got up to use the bathroom. In the bathroom looking like she was ready to go was the woman, she smiled and tossed a black fur onto your sister's shoulders.
"What the hell?" Your sister looked at her and the woman had a huge grin.
"I always did daughters, never thought about having a sister, an equal to myself, figured why not try now."
Your sister moaned, "what's happening?" She started to change looking hotter and bitchy and similar to the woman standing there. The woman looked like she was getting a bit younger too, she licked her lips.
Your sister moaned once more as the changes finished, she looked at her new sister, "ohh this feels good, god I need a drink and a fuck."
"Perfect, you know sis we should go clubbing, there are a few good ones close."
"Excellent idea. Let's go."
Both sisters started to leave, many people watched as the two beauties left the restaurant while you were sitting waiting for someone who wouldn't be returning.
Your mom was handed a fur from her boss, it was a nice little party being thrown at his huge estate, your dad didn't want to go but he knew that this would be something that could help your mom.
"Liz that looks so perfect on you."
"Charles please, we have talked about this, you know I am married and if this keeps up, I will have to go to HR."
"I doubt you will, in fact I'm sure of it."
"Why?" she said and paused feeling hot, not temperature though the fur was helping but she was starting to get horny. She looked at him "Charles what did you do?"
"I told you before, I always get what I want, and I've wanted you so bad, but it was clear that I needed to break you."
"Break me?"
"Oh yes, first you will get hotter, you will then want to cheat and soon you will fuck me."
"I will never cheat on my husband I love him and his tiny dick." She gasped "what no I never thought that, I hate his pathetic dick." she moaned more as her body started to change, her clothes were disappearing becoming a very sexy and slutty outfit. "God Charles, oh fuck," she moaned again "Let me see your cock."
He smiled and dropped his fly and out flopped a good sized cock and she licked her lips. He grinned "ready to cheat?"
"Oh fuck yeah, fuck me like a whore with that huge cock."
"My pleasure" he said stepping up to her, "Such a bad girl, I love it."
"Shut up and fuck me before that worm starts looking for me."
By time Charles filled her with cum, most people at work had started to forget how she was before, only her husband could remember the truth.
Your mom is a huge supporter of all sports at your school, ever since you started to go to her former college she has always been around the campus. Cheering on the crowds, trying to get you into football and basketball and anything that had to do with sports. She told you that sports is where she met your dad and she felt it would be the best place for you to meet a guy.
Your final year in college though one of your friends on campus who was the star quarterback broke his leg doing some random shit over the summer. He had been trying to impress you though you didn't want to tell anyone that because everyone knew his "type" which wasn't you.
Upon hearing it, your mom said not to worry that everything would be ok. Within a few days you heard of a new star QB, you went with your friend to the field to see a crowd of people around this new guy. You never saw him before, and your friend never saw anyone throw as good.
A few weeks went by and there was so much noise about this new guy, he sounded arrogant and full of himself. Walking down the street you spotted him.
"Hi."
He turned to see you and gave a half grin, he looked stoned as fuck, "oh hey, was wondering when I was going to see you, I got caught up in alot of shit."
"I've heard, well it's nice to meet you. But I have to get going, I'm meeting a friend for lunch."
"A date?"
"I guess you could call it that, he used to be on the football team but he broke his leg so he can't play, he really kind of mellowed out because of it."
"Cool Cool," he said "I'm gonna head back to the sorority I have a few more girls I wanna."
"Eww gross, just don't talk to me."
"Whatever, have fun with your loser Noodle."
You turn to look at the guy walking away, how did he know what your mom always called you. You texted your mom but got no answer. You always heard your dad talk about some kind of weird magic your mom knew...but no it couldn't be....could it?
You and your sister were doing some biking around the town and the nearby towns, you had both been pedaling for what felt like hours. You were coming down a hill when your sister's tire blew out, you slowed down at a parking lot waiting for her to slowly get closer. She thought she had her spare tube but she didn't.
"Hey I'm gonna go in there and see if I can get ahold of mom or dad."
"Where is your phone?"
"I left mine at home, I thought it would be too much of a hassle to lug around. Where's yours?"
"Same," you said and you started to laugh with your sister. "We are quite the pair huh."
"Yeah I'll be right back out ok."
"Ok."
Your sister walked into the place, it was dark and filled with smoke, the door closed behind her and you were busy looking over your bike and drinking some water. Time ticked away and you were starting to get nervous, well it's been a few minutes you thought to yourself she had two calls to try to make. She will be right out.
More time passed and you heard the door and looked up to see a blonde walking out with this grizzly biker.
"Oh god yes Daddy, please take me for a ride, then we can get to your place and I get to ride you."
You watched her hop onto the back of the guy's bike, he looked rough and she looked like a slut, tits and ass hanging out she giggled as he revved the engine. They were down the road when you looked at your watch, where is she?
You went to the door, the place was locked up. Your sister was gone.
Finally you were on vacation, the end of the first year in college was insane, you thought you left all the high school bullshit behind you but then you ran into this girl, you tried to be friends but she turned into this wickedly twisted bitch. She bullied you constantly, anytime you had a date she seemed to be there to ruin it. You lost 3 boyfriends because of her but finally it was over. Your dad realizing how bad this year was paid for you to go on vacation. To get away from everything and everyone.
You flew to the island resort, and you were enjoying this nice walk on the beach when you heard a giggle and turned to see coming out of the water was her, the girl you hated most, Amiee.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Oh Hello," she said with a wicked grin, "I didn't notice you there."
"Fuck you Amiee we aren't at school."
"That doesn't mean shit, actually being away from school makes it even easier for me."
"What the fuck could you possibly want."
She took a deep breath and smirked "You, unfortunately for you, I found this spell to make me hotter but to do it I had to bully someone and you well are it."
"ME?"
"Yep, so for me to stay hot and wanted, I have to torment you, and I will for a long long time."
"Fuck you!"
Amiee moaned softly, "yes that's it, feel the pain in you, I love it."
"FUCK!!" you said storming off.
Getting back to your hotel room, you laid on the bed, feeling a need to relax, to destress from all the bullshit, how did she find you here of all places. You heard the click of the door "No thank you I don't need room service," you said looking up and seeing her walking in. "Amiee what the fuck how did?"
"I got my own key, I sucked off the manager telling him we were sisters and sharing a room."
You started to cry and you felt something in you a tingling feeling and you looked up to see Amiee getting hotter.
"That's it, umm that's it, honestly I think if I can break you by the end of the week you are here, I will be so hot and I won't need you anymore, wanna try to get rid of me, well you just have to be broken," she said with a wicked smirk.
She wasn't wrong, the more you tried to do, the more around you she was, the weaker you felt. You cried most nights at the hotel as she fucked some guy you had been talking to earlier, any guy you wanted she fucked, sucked or just made sure you never got to see.
In the end though it seemed she won, you tossed her the room keys crying and walked out without any of your bags, you would stay on the streets for the rest of the trip just to be away from her.
Finally after sleeping in gutters and alleys for the rest of the trip you made your way back to the hotel, hoping to get your belongings but you didn't even care if they were gone. As you were walking up the beach to the hotel you saw someone. It was Amiee and she was hotter than ever.
She was so hot, hotter than you could imagine and something in you knew she would never leave you alone so she could always be the hottest girl around.
You were dumped in the desert naked, you were given a challenge to get back to the city before the end of the day and your debts to the mob would be forgiven. You ran after the truck screaming that they couldn't do this to you and how will you survive. The man in the passenger seat was laughing and dumped a bag outside.
Rushing over to it thinking it could help you all you found was a red dress in it. It was nothing that could save you but being naked it was something that could at least protect your skin somewhat from the sun. You slid it on and headed down following the tracks from the truck. About an hour into the walk you found another bag laying on the ground, opening it you found a wig, again nothing, but you felt like putting it on.
The sun was beating down on you and you were starting to feel dizzy, starting to feel weird. You would see shapes in the sky and giggle more and more. just as the sun was setting you thought you were close to getting out when you saw the truck that dumped you in the desert but now the mob boss was there smoking a cigar and smiling "Hello my dear welcome home."
You giggled, "hi baby, can we go home and fuck, I'm so horny."
