Lucia's Corruptions

Erotic corruption stories, Mostly F2F, 18+ only, adult content.

[luciascorruptions]

The Witch’s Shadow: Shadows Spread

So as requested, here is a sequel to the story The Witch’s Shadow. This might be the longest story I have written so far.

Here is a link to the first one: https://www.tumblr.com/luciascorruptions/811148910684946432/the-witchs-shadow

Enjoy.

The small town of Pine Hollow had always been quiet. People left their doors unlocked, waved at neighbors on Main Street, and slept soundly knowing the worst trouble was usually someone speeding past the old mill. 

But for the last week, that peace had begun to crack.

Rumors moved faster than the morning paper. People whispered in the grocery store aisles, at the diner counter. “Someone’s taken over that old haunted house on the hill,” they said. “A witch, they call her. Beautiful. Cruel. And now folks are vanishing after dark. Mr. Miller’s wife didn’t come home from her shift. Mr. Hargrove went out for a walk and never returned.”

No one had proof. Not yet. But the fear was real.

Deep inside the restored mansion on the hill, the source of that fear lounged in absolute luxury.

Mistress Tatiana sat upon her throne of carved bone and blood-red silk, long raven-black hair cascading like liquid night over her shoulders. Her black-and-red leather corset pushed her impressive cleavage high, long black latex gloves resting on the arms of the throne, thigh-high latex boots crossed elegantly. The black leather cape with its high collar framed her like a queen of darkness. Her blood-red lips curved in an arrogant, seductive smile as she gazed down at the pathetic figure kneeling at her feet.

Wormscum, once Billy, cowered in his tight black latex gimp suit and mask. His weak body trembled with eager devotion, forehead pressed to the cold marble floor.

“You may speak, worm,” Tatiana purred, her voice like velvet wrapped around a razor.

Wormscum lifted his head just enough to show his adoring eyes through the mask slits. “Thank you, glorious Mistress. Your slave lives only to please you. Every disgusting order fills me with joy. Command me and I obey.”

Before Tatiana could answer, the tall double doors swung open. Mistress Mireille strode in, platinum-blonde hair pulled into a severe high ponytail, black leather catsuit hugging every curve, deep cleavage on full display, thigh-high latex boots clicking sharply. Her arrogant, wicked smile matched her mistress’s perfectly.

“My Queen,” Mireille purred, dropping to one knee in perfect obedience. “I have returned with gifts. Two new slaves, fresh, broken, and already begging to serve. One was that pretty waitress from the diner. The other, the delivery guy who used to come up the hill. Both are downstairs now, collared and eager.”

Tatiana laughed softly, the sound echoing through the crimson-lit hall. “Excellent work, my darling Mireille. You always bring me the sweetest toys.”

Mireille rose gracefully. “The townsfolk are starting to whisper, Mistress. They sense something is wrong. Disappearances are mounting. If we are not careful…”

Tatiana’s laugh cut her off, rich, mocking, and utterly confident. “Those pathetic little insects? Please. They are nothing. Cattle waiting for a shepherd. Soon every soul in Pine Hollow will kneel and worship me. But you are right, we must move with precision.”

She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. “We need control. The media to silence questions. The police to look the other way. And the mayor… well, he will become my most loyal puppet. You, my dear Mireille, will take Brandon and begin with the police station tonight. Break them. Enslave the ones who matter. Then move on to the television station. I will deal with the mayor personally.”

Mireille’s smile widened, sharp and sadistic. “As you command, my Queen. Brandon and I will enjoy the hunt.”

From the shadows, the huge bald brute stepped forward. Brandon’s massive tattooed chest glistened under the torchlight, black leather pants straining over thick thighs. “Obey Mistress,” he grunted in his slow, deep voice. “Brandon smash. Brandon serve.”

Tatiana stroked the spell book on her lap lovingly. “Good boy. Now go. Make them scream… then make them beg.”

Down in the town, the Pine Hollow Police Station was quiet but tense.

Police Chief Harvey Williamson sat behind his cluttered desk, fat belly straining against his uniform shirt, bald head shining under the fluorescent lights. His glasses sat crooked on his nose while he slowly chewed a half-eaten sandwich. He was tired and old and counting the days until retirement. The phone had rung nonstop for a week.

A sharp knock made him sigh.

Officer Katy Andersen stepped in, long blonde hair pulled into a strict ponytail, dark blue uniform crisp and professional. Her face was serious, eyes bright with worry. Everyone in town trusted Katy more than the chief, she was the one who actually cared about the town and its people.

“Chief,” she said firmly, “we can’t keep ignoring this. Two more reports today. The waitress Layla Smith and Mr. Harver the delivery guy. People are scared. We need to act, more night patrols, street cameras, a public statement…”

Harvey waved a tired hand, crumbs falling onto his desk. “Katy, Katy… relax. I’m looking into it. I’ll talk to the mayor tomorrow. Probably just people running off to the city. You know how people are these days.”

Katy’s jaw tightened. “With respect, sir, this doesn’t feel like people running away. Something is wrong out at that old house. I can feel it.”

Harvey leaned back, sighing heavily. “Look, I’ll put in a request for extra overtime. That’s the best I can do tonight. Go home, get some rest. You’re a good officer, Andersen. Don’t burn yourself out.”

Katy stood there a moment longer, frustration clear, but she finally nodded. “Yes, sir.” She turned and left, shoulders tense.

Just as the door closed, another visitor arrived.

Reporter Vicky Thompson strode into the station in her purple blazer and matching skirt, high heels clicking, long black hair swaying. She carried a notebook and a determined expression. Vicky had dreamed of real investigative journalism when she took the job at the local station, exposés, truth, justice. Instead she mostly covered town fairs and new deli counters.

“I need to speak with Chief Williamson,” she told the desk sergeant.

Officer Katy intercepted her in the hallway. “Miss Thompson, the chief is under a lot of pressure right now. We’re doing everything we can. No interviews tonight.”

Vicky’s shoulders slumped. “Just five minutes. People are terrified. The public has a right to know…”

“I’m sorry,” Katy said gently but firmly. “Come back tomorrow. Please.”

Vicky left empty-handed and drove straight back to the station. The moment she stepped into the newsroom, her boss John Clinton burst out of his office, red-faced.

“Vicky! I told you to drop that disappearance nonsense! It’s just rumors. People move away, that’s all. Tonight you’re doing a fluff piece on the new deli counter at the grocery store. Happy customers, fresh turkey slices, that’s what sells ads.”

Vicky stared at him. “John, this could be serious. Something is happening…”

“Do the deli story or start looking for another job,” he snapped. “Your choice.”

Vicky sighed deeply, the dream of real reporting feeling further away than ever. “Yes, sir,” she muttered and headed for the grocery store.

Across town, in the mayor’s elegant office, Mayor Bill Jefferson rubbed his temples. Handsome, mid-forties, black hair slicked back, expensive suit perfectly tailored, he looked every inch the charming leader Pine Hollow loved.

His secretary, Annie Johnsen, knocked softly and entered. Red hair neat, white sweater under a black blazer, black suit pants crisp. She was kind-hearted and believed deeply in public service.

“Mayor Jefferson,” she said gently, “the phones are ringing off the hook again. More people asking about the disappearances. The town council is worried. They think you should demand more action from the police.”

Bill leaned back, frustration flashing across his face. “Annie, I have three meetings tomorrow, a budget to approve, and a ribbon-cutting at the new park. I can’t do everything myself! The police are handling it.”

Annie hesitated, then offered a warm smile. “Of course, sir. You always know best. The town is lucky to have you.”

Bill softened immediately. “Thank you, Annie. You’re a treasure. I’ll look into the disappearances if they become a real threat. I promise. Now go home, it’s late.”

Annie beamed, believing every word. “Good night, Mayor.”

Night fell over Pine Hollow.

Streetlights flickered on. Houses locked their doors a little earlier than usual. Somewhere on the hill, the restored mansion glowed with crimson light, laughter, cruel and delighted, echoing faintly on the wind.

And in the darkness, Mistress Mireille and Brandon began to move.

Night had settled over Pine Hollow like a heavy blanket. Streetlights cast lonely pools of yellow on empty sidewalks. Most windows were dark, curtains drawn tight. The town was holding its breath.

Officer Katy Andersen refused to do the same.

She walked her beat alone, flashlight sweeping the shadows, dark blue uniform crisp despite the long day. Her long blonde hair was pulled into its usual strict ponytail, badge gleaming under the lamplight. The chief had done nothing. Again. So Katy had taken an extra patrol shift on her own time. Someone had to protect these people.

“Two more gone this week,” she muttered to herself, voice steady and serious. “Not on my watch. Not while I’m still wearing this badge.”

A sudden chill slid down her spine, colder than the night air should allow. The streetlights flickered once. Then she heard it, sharp, deliberate clicks of high heels on pavement behind her.

Katy spun, hand instinctively dropping to her holster. “Who’s there? Identify yourself!”

A stunning woman stepped into the light. Platinum-blonde hair in a severe high ponytail, flawless makeup, blood-red lips curved in a wicked, arrogant smile. The black leather catsuit clung to every curve, deep cleavage on full display, thigh-high latex boots shining like polished obsidian. She looked like sin given form.

“Well, well,” the woman purred, voice dripping with mocking seduction. “What do we have here? A noisy little police officer playing hero all by herself in the dark. How adorable.”

Katy’s stance stayed firm, professional. “I’m Officer Katy Andersen, Pine Hollow PD. You’re out after curfew with no good reason. Identify yourself and explain what you’re doing on these streets.”

The woman laughed softly, the sound sliding over Katy like silk. “Curfew? How quaint. I am Mistress Mireille. And I adore the night. So many delicious things happen after dark, don’t you agree?” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “Especially when good little girls like you wander around thinking they can stop the inevitable.”

Katy’s pulse quickened. This woman radiated pure danger. “I’m taking you in for questioning. Turn around and place your hands behind your…“

Strong arms suddenly locked around her from behind like steel bands. Katy gasped, struggling hard. A massive bald man loomed over her shoulder, tattooed chest bare, black leather pants straining over thick thighs, muscles bulging. He didn’t even seem to notice her resistance.

“Let me go!” Katy snarled, voice still steady with authority. “This is assault on an officer! You’re both under arrest!”

Mireille sauntered closer, hips swaying, latex creaking softly. “Oh dear, I almost forgot to introduce my pet. This is Brandon. He’s as dumb as a rock… but so very loyal.” She reached up and patted the brute’s cheek like a dog. “Say hello, Brandon.”

“Brandon obeys,” the giant grunted in his deep, slow voice. “Brandon serves Mistress.”

Katy’s eyes blazed with anger even as she fought against the iron grip. “What the hell is this about? Are you the ones behind the disappearances? Why are you doing this to people? They have lives!”

Mireille’s smile widened, cruel and delighted. “Disappearances? Oh, sweet, serious little Katy. No one is disappearing. They are simply being reborn, exactly how my perfect Mistress Tatiana wishes. Some become toys, some become servants, some become something far more… useful.”She leaned in until her lips almost brushed Katy’s ear. “And tonight, darling, it’s your turn.”

Katy’s blood ran cold. For the first time, real terror flashed across her face. “No… you can’t. Let me go! Whatever you’re planning…stop! I won’t let you…“

Mireille threw her head back and laughed, rich and mocking. “You’ll love it when I’m finished. My Mistress has taught me some truly delicious new spells. Watch closely.”

She raised one gloved hand, ancient words spilling from her lips in a sultry, commanding purr. Crimson light flared around Katy’s body.

Katy screamed, thrashing wildly. “No! Stop! I’m a police officer… I swore to protect this town! I won’t become… whatever you are!” But even as she fought, the pleasure slammed into her like a wave. Heat flooded her veins, every nerve lighting up with forbidden ecstasy. Her morals, her ethics, her iron sense of duty, they all began to melt under the delicious fire. “Oh… fuck… it feels… too good…”

Her strict ponytail stayed, but her uniform shimmered and transformed. Dark blue latex poured over her skin, tight and gleaming, black accents hugging every new curve. Thigh-high black latex boots replaced her sensible shoes. Her badge melted into a wicked emblem of servitude. Her face sharpened into something arrogant, seductive, and utterly ruthless.

When the light faded, Katy stood tall and proud, long platinum-blonde hair still in its severe ponytail, lips painted blood-red, eyes glowing with evil joy. She flexed her gloved fingers and laughed, a low, cruel, delighted sound that no longer belonged to the kind officer the town once trusted.

Brandon released her. Katy rolled her shoulders, latex creaking, and turned to Mireille with a wicked grin.

“Mmm… I feel incredible,” she purred in a sexy, arrogant voice. “I am ready to serve Mistress Tatiana and do her glorious work. The whole town is going to learn what real order feels like.”

Mireille’s smile matched hers perfectly. “Welcome to the family, Mistress Kassandra. Now… shall we pay the chief a visit?”

Meanwhile, across town, Police Chief Harvey Williamson sat grumbling in his dimly lit office. His fat belly rested against the desk, bald head shining, glasses crooked. He had been dragged back in at midnight because Katy supposedly had “new evidence.” He was exhausted, annoyed, and already dreaming of retirement.

“This better be quick,” he muttered, chewing on a cold donut. “I was supposed to be home hours ago…”

The door swung open with a dramatic click of heels.

Harvey looked up and froze.

Mistress Kassandra strode in first, latex uniform gleaming, arrogant smile sharp. Behind her came Mistress Mireille, then the hulking Brandon.

“K-Katy?” Harvey stammered, eyes wide. “What the hell is the meaning of this? Who are these people? Why are you dressed like… like that?”

Kassandra laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “Katy is gone, you pathetic old fool. I am Mistress Kassandra now. And these two—” she gestured lazily at Mireille and Brandon “—are the reason this town finally has purpose. The disappearances? They’re gifts. Every soul we take gets reborn to serve our perfect Mistress Tatiana. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Harvey’s face went pale. “You’re insane. All of you. I’m calling for backup right now…”

Mireille stepped forward, purring. “Oh, Chief… there will be no backup. Mistress Kassandra is now Chief of Police. And the entire department belongs to Mistress Tatiana. The women will become beautiful, ruthless officers like Kassandra. The men will become big, strong, brainless brutes, Brandon’s new army. And as for you…”

Kassandra’s eyes sparkled with sadistic glee. “I’ve decided your fate, old man. You’re going to make the perfect pathetic little slave.”

Harvey tried to stand, knocking over his chair. “No! Please! I’m retiring soon! I never hurt anyone! Don’t…”

Mireille raised her hand again, voice dripping with cruel delight. “Too late, fatty.”

Crimson light engulfed him. Harvey screamed, but the pleasure hit instantly. His fat body shrank and twisted, uniform dissolving into tight black latex. A gimp mask formed over his face. His mind emptied of everything except slavish devotion.

When the light died, a weak, trembling figure in a full black latex gimp suit dropped to his knees.

“Th-thank you… Mistress Kassandra,” the new slave whimpered, voice high and eager. “Your pathetic toy lives only to obey. Any disgusting task… I will perform with joy.”

Mireille and Kassandra laughed together, loud, triumphant, and dripping with evil.

“Pathetic,” Kassandra purred, kicking him lightly with her boot. “But useful. Clean this office, slave. Then prepare the cells for new recruits.”

Mireille glanced at the clock. “We still need the media under control by morning.”

Kassandra’s smile turned vicious. “Oh, I know exactly who to call.”

Outside, the night grew darker still.

Vicky Thompson’s phone buzzed violently on her nightstand at 1:17 a.m. She groaned, fumbling for it in the dark. The screen showed “Pine Hollow PD, Non-Emergency Line.”

She answered, voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”

A calm, professional female voice came through. “Miss Thompson? This is Officer Andersen from the Pine Hollow Police Department. Chief Williamson would like to speak with you immediately regarding the ongoing disappearance cases. He’s requesting an on-camera interview at the station. Can you come in right away?”

Vicky sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake. “An interview? With the chief? Tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am. He says it’s urgent. Come alone. We’ll have everything set up when you arrive.”

For the first time in months, Vicky felt a real spark of excitement. This was it, the big story she’d been waiting for. Real journalism. Truth. Impact.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said, already throwing off the covers.

She dressed quickly, purple blazer, matching skirt, high heels, long black hair brushed smooth, and grabbed her notebook, recorder, and camera bag. Her heart raced the whole drive over. 

Finally. Something real.

When she pushed through the front doors of the police station, the excitement died instantly.

The place was unrecognizable.

Gone was the tired beige linoleum, the flickering fluorescent lights, the smell of stale coffee and old paperwork. 

The walls were now draped in glossy black and dark-blue leather panels. The floor was polished black stone that gleamed like obsidian. Chains dangled from the ceiling, holding metal cages where figures in full black latex knelt silently, heads bowed. Tall, muscular men in nothing but tight black leather pants stood at rigid attention along the walls, blank-faced, tattooed, empty-eyed, waiting for orders. Women in skin-tight latex police uniforms, dark blue with black accents, deep cleavage, whips coiled at their belts, moved with predatory grace, eyes gleaming with cruel delight.

And everywhere, on the walls, on pedestals, carved into altars, were portraits and statues of a stunning raven-haired woman in leather and latex, captioned in elegant silver script:

Mistress Tatiana

In the center of what used to be the bullpen now sat a massive throne of black stone and crimson velvet. On it lounged the transformed Katy, now Mistress Kassandra, long platinum-blonde ponytail gleaming, latex uniform hugging every enhanced curve, arrogant smile sharp as a blade. Flanking her were Mistress Mireille in her signature black catsuit and the towering bald brute Brandon.

Kassandra’s eyes locked on Vicky and her lips curled into a mocking smile.

“Oh look,” she purred, voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “The press has finally arrived.”

Mireille laughed softly beside her, the sound rich and venomous. “Right on time, darling. We’ve been expecting you.”

Vicky’s blood turned to ice. Her first instinct was to bolt, but before she could turn, two of the massive latex-clad officers stepped forward and slammed the heavy doors shut behind her. The locks clicked with finality.

She spun back toward the throne, voice shaking but still trying to hold on to professionalism. “Katy? What… what the hell is this? What happened to the station? To you? This isn’t right. You have to stop whatever this is, now!”

Kassandra rose slowly from the throne, latex creaking, hips swaying with deliberate seduction as she descended the steps.

“Katy is gone, little reporter,” she said, voice low and arrogant. “She was boring. Dutiful. Weak. I am Mistress Kassandra now. And thanks to our glorious Mistress Tatiana, this pathetic little police department has finally received the upgrade it deserved. Order. Obedience. Power. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Vicky took a step back, eyes darting for any exit. “This is insane. You have to know this is wrong. You have to fight it!”

Kassandra laughed, cold, delighted, utterly without remorse. “Wrong? Oh, sweet Vicky. You still think in terms of right and wrong. How quaint.” She gestured lazily toward Mireille. “Allow me to introduce my new friends. This is Mistress Mireille, my superior and guide. And Brandon, our loyal guardian.”

Mireille stepped forward, platinum ponytail swaying, arrogant smile widening. She circled Vicky slowly, eyes raking over her like she was inspecting merchandise.

“You are perfect,” Mireille purred. “Curious. Ambitious. Hungry for truth. Such a shame you’ve wasted it on deli counters and ribbon-cuttings.”

Vicky’s voice trembled. “I’ve heard the rumors. About the house. About the witch. Is that you? Are you the one doing this?”

Mireille laughed again, the sound sliding into Vicky’s bones. “Witch? Oh, darling, I am merely the superior messenger. My perfect Mistress Tatiana is so much more than a witch. She is rebirth. She is dominion. She is the future. And soon, little reporter, you will understand that very personally.”

Vicky backed up until she hit the wall. “This is evil. Evil never wins. You can’t just…”

The entire station erupted in cruel, mocking laughter. Every latex-clad officer, every blank-eyed brute, every caged slave joined in.

Mireille leaned in close, breath warm against Vicky’s ear. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

Brandon’s massive arms wrapped around Vicky from behind, pinning her effortlessly. She thrashed, but his grip was iron.

“Let me go!” she screamed. “Please! I won’t tell anyone, just let me leave!”

Kassandra stepped down the last few stairs, hips swaying, eyes gleaming with sadistic joy. Mireille whispered something in her ear, ancient words that made the air shimmer.

Kassandra smiled wider. “My turn.”

She raised her gloved hand. The spell spilled from her lips in a sultry, commanding purr.

Crimson light engulfed Vicky.

At first she fought, screaming, twisting, clinging to her morals, her ethics, her dream of real journalism. “No! I won’t, I can’t… This isn’t me!”

But the pleasure hit like a tidal wave. Heat flooded her, every nerve singing with forbidden ecstasy. Resistance crumbled. Doubt vanished. She gasped, then moaned, then laughed, a low, wicked sound that grew stronger with every heartbeat.

Her purple blazer and skirt shimmered and reformed into glossy dark-purple latex, tight blazer with black accents, deep cleavage, short black latex skirt, thigh-high black latex boots. Her long black hair gleamed silkier, eyes sharpening into arrogant cruelty.

When the light faded, Vicky stood tall and proud, blood-red lips curled in evil delight.

Brandon released her. She rolled her shoulders, latex creaking, and turned to Kassandra with a matching wicked smile.

“How do you feel, darling?” Kassandra purred.

Vicky licked her lips slowly. “Wonderful. Powerful. Ready to serve our perfect Mistress Tatiana and spread her glorious will. The truth was always so… limiting. This is freedom.”

Mireille clapped her gloved hands once. “Delicious. Now come, Mistress Victoria. We have one more stop tonight, the news station. Brandon, bring your new army.”

Behind them, a line of massive, blank-eyed brutes in black latex pants stepped forward, Brandon’s obedient legion.

The two women strode out, laughing, the army marching behind them.

At the Pine Hollow News Station, chaos reigned.

Every employee had been called in at 2 a.m. with an “emergency staff meeting.” Reporters, cameramen, producers, and anchors milled around the newsroom in confusion and anger.

John, Vicky’s boss, stood in the center, red-faced and shouting. “Who the hell authorized this? I want answers! We’re not running some midnight circus!”

The heavy doors swung open.

Click. Click. Click.

Two sets of high heels echoed across the tile.

Mistress Victoria entered first, purple latex gleaming, arrogant smile sharp. Behind her came Mistress Mireille and Brandon. And behind them, an army of towering, tattooed brutes blocked every exit.

The room fell silent.

Victoria stepped forward, voice sexy and commanding. “Good evening, everyone. There are going to be some changes around here.”

John exploded. “Vicky? What the hell is this? Who are these people? Get out of my station, now!”

Mireille stepped beside Victoria, purring. “This is no longer your station, little man. This is now the voice of Mistress Tatiana. Embrace the new age, or be remade.”

The brutes moved. Doors locked. Windows sealed. No one could run.

Screams erupted as crimson light flared throughout the room.

One by one, they changed.

Reporters became cruel, seductive anchors in latex and leather, eyes gleaming with malice. Cameramen and producers shrank into pathetic latex slaves, crawling and whimpering in devotion. Some men grew massive and blank-eyed, joining Brandon’s army.

John fought hardest, yelling, shoving, trying to rally his staff.

Mireille saved him for last.

She turned to Victoria. “What would you like him to become, darling?”

Victoria laughed, cold, triumphant, dripping with evil joy. “Make him mine. A pathetic little slave in a cage.”

Mireille raised her hand. The spell hit.

John screamed, then moaned, then dropped to his knees as black latex swallowed him. A mask formed over his face. He crawled to Victoria’s boots and pressed his forehead to the floor.

“Thank you… Mistress Victoria,” he whimpered. “Your worthless slave lives only to obey.”

The newsroom transformed around them. Walls turned black and purple leather and crimson velvet. Desks became altars of sin. Chains and whips adorned every corner. A massive throne rose behind the main anchor desk, reserved for Mistress Tatiana’s eventual broadcasts.

Victoria sat in the anchor chair, legs crossed, latex gleaming under the new crimson lights.

“Tonight,” she purred into the empty camera, “we begin the real broadcast. Anyone who watches will feel the spell. They will come. They will kneel. They will serve.”

She turned to Mireille, eyes shining with dark ecstasy. “I love this. I love the power. I love what we’ve become. And I love serving our perfect Mistress Tatiana.”

Mireille smiled, pleased. “Well done, Mistress Victoria. The town will fall faster now.”

She pulled out her phone and dialed a single number.

When the line connected, she spoke softly.

“Your turn, Mistress.”

In the crimson glow of her throne room, Mistress Tatiana lounged like a goddess of ruin. Her long raven-black hair spilled over the high collar of her black leather cape, the tight corset pushing her impressive cleavage forward, long latex gloves resting lazily on the arms of the bone-and-silk throne. Thigh-high latex boots crossed elegantly. At her feet knelt Wormscum, once Billy, his weak body trembling in the tight black latex gimp suit and mask.

Tatiana tilted her head, blood-red lips curling into a cruel, mocking smile. “Look at you, Wormscum. Pathetic little worm. Still drooling on my floor after all these days. Do you even remember what it felt like to have a spine? Or were you always this disgusting?”

Wormscum pressed his masked forehead harder against the cold marble, voice high and eager with depraved joy. “No, Mistress! Your slave never had anything worth remembering before you. Every insult makes me harder in my cage. Every cruel word fills me with purpose. Please… humiliate your worthless toy more. I live for it.”

Tatiana laughed, low, rich, and dripping with sadistic delight. She reached down with one gloved finger and flicked the front of his mask. “Such a good little mess. I could keep you here all night, making you beg for scraps and cleaning my boots with that filthy tongue of yours. But…” She sighed theatrically. “Playtime must wait. My darling Mireille has done her part so beautifully. The police, the news station, both already singing my praises in latex and chains. Now it’s my turn to finish the symphony.”

She rose gracefully, snapping her fingers. A black leather leash appeared in her hand. She clipped it to the ring on Wormscum’s collar. “Come, pet. We’re going into town. I have a mayor to replace… and a sweet little secretary to remake.”

Wormscum crawled eagerly behind her on all fours, latex creaking, voice trembling with joy. “Yes, Mistress! Thank you for letting your disgusting slave witness your glory!”

The night air was cool as they stepped outside the mansion, but the town below already felt the shift. Streetlights flickered. Shadows moved wrong. Tatiana smiled and began her walk toward the quiet residential streets, Wormscum crawling obediently at her heel.

Across town, Annie Johnsen sat at her small kitchen table, laptop glowing in the dark. It was well past midnight. Her red hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, glasses perched on her nose, white t-shirt and blue pyjama pants. Papers and spreadsheets covered the table.

She rubbed her eyes, whispering to herself, “Just one more report, Annie. The mayor is counting on you. He works so hard for this town… the least I can do is stay up all night if it helps him.”

A soft knock echoed through the apartment.

Annie froze. Who would knock at this hour? Her heart beat faster. She crept to the door and peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty.

She exhaled in relief. “Probably just someone messing around. Back to work…”

When she turned around, a stunning woman stood in the middle of her living room with a man in black latex sitting next to her on a leash.

The woman radiated pure, mocking power.

“Well, well,” Tatiana purred, voice like velvet over broken glass. “Look at you. Aren’t you just adorable? Working so hard past midnight for a man who barely notices you exist. How precious.”

Annie stumbled back, terror flooding her kind face. “Who… who are you?! How did you get in here? Get out right now!”

Tatiana took her time answering, feeding on the fear like fine wine. She circled slowly, boots clicking. “You may call me Mistress Tatiana. And I came to give you a gift, little Annie. A wonderful, life-changing gift.”

“I don’t want any gift!” Annie’s voice shook but stayed firm. “I want you to leave! Right now! I have work to do for Mayor Jefferson, he’s a good man, a great leader. He needs these reports by morning and I won’t let some intruder stop me from helping this town!”

Tatiana’s laugh was low and mocking. “Oh, how loyal. How pathetically devoted. You really believe that slick-haired charmer is worth staying up all night for? He uses you like a tool, darling. But don’t worry… I’m here to fix that.”

Annie’s cheeks flushed with anger. “Mayor Jefferson is an honest, commanding leader who cares about Pine Hollow! I’d do anything for him. You’re evil, I can feel it. Get out or I swear I’ll call the police right now!”

Tatiana only laughed harder, delighted by the resistance. “Call them? Oh, sweet thing. The police already work for me. Every officer in that station now wears my latex and kisses my boots. But go ahead, dial. It will be amusing.”

Annie lunged for her phone on the table. Before her fingers could touch it, Tatiana snapped her fingers. The furniture came alive, chair legs wrapping around Annie’s ankles, curtains snaking around her wrists, tying her firmly to the seat.

Annie gasped, eyes wide with shock. “This… this can’t be real. Magic? No… no, that’s impossible!”

Tatiana picked up Annie’s phone, smiling evilly. “Time for some fun.” She dialed the mayor’s private number. When he answered, furious at the late call, Tatiana whispered a quick spell, her voice shifted perfectly into Annie’s gentle, professional tone.

“Mayor Jefferson? It’s Annie. I’m so sorry to call this late, but I’m stuck on the final budget section and I desperately need your input. Could you possibly come over? It will only take a few minutes, I promise.”

The mayor grumbled but agreed, still angry. Tatiana hung up and let her own silky, arrogant voice return.

“This is going to be delicious,” she purred to the bound Annie. “And don’t worry, darling… I won’t touch him. You will.”

Not ten minutes later, a furious knock rattled the door.

Annie tried to scream a warning; “Bill, run! It’s a trap!” but Tatiana’s spell stole her voice completely. She could only watch in horror as the mayor stepped inside… and instantly froze as invisible magic yanked him across the room and slammed him into a second chair that bound him tight.

Mayor Bill Jefferson yelled in rage. “What the hell is this?! Who are you?! Let me go right now or I’ll have every officer in this town arrest you!”

Tatiana stepped into the light, cape swirling. “Arrest me? Oh, Mr. Mayor. You don’t fit to rule this town anymore. Someone stronger, better, is taking your place tonight.”

Bill sneered arrogantly. “You’re insane. The moment I get free, you’re finished.”

Tatiana walked slowly toward Annie, gloved hand stroking the terrified woman’s cheek. “And who better to replace you than your loyal little secretary? Annie here has always been so devoted… she’ll make a perfect mayor for my new vision of this town.”

Bill burst out laughing, cruel and dismissive. “Annie? That weak, mousy little thing? She’s good for filing papers and fetching coffee, nothing more. She’s not cut out for leadership. Too soft, too emotional, too… ordinary. She’d crumble in a week.”

Annie’s eyes filled with tears. The words cut deeper than any spell.

Tatiana’s smile widened. “Perfect. Those words will only make the new Annie stronger.” She turned to the bound woman. “Ready to see what real power feels like, darling?”

Annie shook her head frantically, voice trembling as the spell finally let her speak again. “No… please… I don’t want this. I want to stay me. I want to help people the right way. Stop!”

Tatiana raised her hand and began the spell, voice purring with dark command. Crimson light wrapped around Annie.

At first Annie fought with everything she had, clinging to her kindness, her ethics, her love of public service, her belief in helping others. “I won’t… I refuse… I’m a good person… I won’t become whatever monster you want!”

The pleasure slammed into her like fire. She gasped, eyes widening. “Oh… no… it feels… too good…”

Tatiana increased the power, reminding her softly, “He called you weak. A tool. Someone he could boss around forever. Is that the man you wanted to serve?”

The words broke something deep inside Annie. Her love for the mayor twisted into pure contempt. She moaned, then laughed, a low, wicked, delighted sound.

“Yes…” she breathed. “Yes… I feel it… I want it…”

The transformation surged. Her red hair grew longer, makeup flawless and sharp. Her clothes melted into a black latex blazer with red accents, deep cleavage, matching latex skirt, and thigh-high red latex boots. Her eyes sharpened with arrogant cruelty.

When the light faded, Annie stood tall and proud, manicured nails tapping the arm of the chair that now released her. She stretched luxuriously, latex creaking, and turned to Tatiana with an evil, seductive smile.

“How do you feel, my dear?” Tatiana purred.

Annie licked her lips. “So wicked… so naughty… so deliciously evil. Thank you, Mistress. For the gift. For showing me what I truly am!”

Tatiana’s eyes sparkled. “Who do you serve, now?”

Anastasia dropped to one knee without hesitation, voice dripping with arrogant joy. “I serve my superior Mistress Tatiana, always and forever. I am no longer weak little Annie. I am Mistress Anastasia, and I cannot wait to begin my new mission.”

Tatiana gestured to the still-bound and horrified Mayor Bill Jefferson. “One last detail. What shall we do with the old mayor?”

Anastasia turned, eyes cold with contempt. “I have some fun delicious evil ideas.”

By dawn, Pine Hollow was gone.

In its place stood Nightfall Hollow, a town of sin, pleasure, and absolute obedience. Statues of Mistress Tatiana rose in every square. Her portraits hung in every home and shop. Citizens moved through the streets with eager, wicked smiles, latex and leather now the common fashion. 

Anyone who still resisted was taken by Mistress Kassandra’s officers and remade within hours. The local news station and radio broadcast nothing but spells, anyone who watched or listened for even thirty seconds fell instantly under Tatiana’s will. Even drivers passing the town limits felt the pull if their radios were on.

In the mayor’s grand office, Mistress Anastasia sat behind the massive desk in her black latex, red hair cascading, arrogant smile sharp. At her feet knelt the former Mayor Bill Jefferson, now a pathetic half-man, half-pig creature in a tight black latex gimp suit. Snout, hooves, and curly tail completed the humiliating form. He oinked happily, pressing his masked face to her red latex boot.

“Clean them properly, piggy,” Anastasia purred, voice arrogant and mocking. “And thank your new mistress for giving you purpose.”

The creature squealed in depraved joy. “Yes… Mistress Anastasia… your worthless piggy slave lives only to obey… thank you for this gift…”

Sometimes she had him caged in the town square for public amusement. The citizens loved it.

In her towering mansion on the hill, Mistress Tatiana sat once more upon her throne of bone and silk. Wormscum knelt at her feet, licking her boots with eager, filthy devotion. To her right stood Mistress Mireille, platinum ponytail perfect, catsuit gleaming. To her left stood the towering Brandon, muscles rippling, ready for any command.

Tatiana stroked the spell book in her lap, smiling with pure malevolent satisfaction.

“What a delicious night,” she purred. “A whole town remade in my image. Police, media, mayor, all mine. The citizens worship me. The streets echo with my name.”

Mireille bowed her head. “Your will is perfection, my Queen.”

Brandon grunted. “Brandon serve. Always.”

Tatiana’s eyes gleamed with endless hunger. “But I am never satisfied with just one town. Tonight, my darlings… I think it’s time we visited the neighboring city. Mireille, Brandon, prepare the army. We leave at dusk.”

She threw her head back and laughed, loud, cruel, and dripping with evil joy that echoed through the night.

Nightfall Hollow was only the beginning.

The End

[luciascorruptions]

The Witch’s Shadow

The old house sat at the end of a forgotten dirt road, half-swallowed by twisted oaks and moonlight. Even the wind seemed afraid to touch it. 

The four friends stood at the sagging porch steps, flashlights cutting pale beams through the dark.

Billy adjusted the camera strapped to his chest like a proud soldier. His short red hair was messy under a backwards cap, glasses slightly fogged from excitement. The black T-shirt with the glowing ghost logo peeked out from under his open blue jacket.

“This is it, guys! The old witch house. They say she was beautiful… but evil. Anyone who stepped inside got changed. Turned into monsters, slaves, or just… dust. I’m telling you, if we catch even one orb on film tonight, my channel blows up!”

Mia crossed her arms, her long blonde hair shining under the moonlight. Her red top and brown leather jacket looked too nice for a haunted dump. She sighed.

“Billy, you know I love you like a brother, but this is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had. Ghosts aren’t real. We’re going to spend the night in a dusty wreck because you want to film floating dust particles.”

Brad laughed, deep and easy, flexing his shoulders inside his white T-shirt and open red leather jacket. His short honey-brown hair was perfectly styled, muscles clear even in the dark.

“Dude, I’m only here because you begged. Haunted house at night? Kinda badass. But if nothing happens in the first hour, I’m crashing on the floor and dreaming about the victory party we could be at right now.” He slung an arm around Mia’s waist. “Come on, babe, admit it, atleats this beats another boring movie night.”

Mia elbowed him lightly but smiled. “You’re an idiot, Brad. But yeah… I’m here for Billy. Just don’t start complaining in twenty minutes when you’re bored.”

Tracy stood a little behind them, ponytail of long brown hair swinging as she nervously adjusted her glasses. Her blue sweater and black open jacket felt too thin against the chill. She clutched her flashlight like a lifeline. She didn’t believe in ghosts, not really, but her heart was already hammering. Still, Billy was smiling at all of them, and that made her stomach flutter.

Maybe tonight he’ll finally notice me, she thought. Maybe if I’m brave, he’ll see I’m not just the scared nerdy girl.

“I… I’m in,” Tracy said, trying to sound confident. Her voice cracked a little. “For science. And for you, Billy. I mean… for the group. Totally.”

Billy beamed. “That’s my crew! Okay, camera rolling. Let’s do this.”

They pushed open the heavy front door. It groaned like something alive. Inside, the air was colder than outside, thick with dust and the faint smell of old roses. Moonlight spilled through cracked windows onto faded wallpaper and elegant, rotting furniture. The place looked like a mansion that had died mid-party.

“See? Elegant and creepy,” Billy whispered excitedly, sweeping the camera around. “Classic witch architecture. Look at that chandelier, probably where she hung her victims.”

Brad snorted, kicking an old rug. “Or where some rich dead guy threw fancy parties. This place is just old, man. No ghosts, no spells, just spiders.” He glanced at Mia. “Babe, tell me I’m right.”

Mia rolled her eyes but kept her voice gentle for Billy. “Brad, shut up. Billy’s been planning this for months. At least pretend to care.”

They moved deeper. Floorboards creaked under every step. Shadows stretched long and wrong. Billy narrated nonstop for his camera. “Night one in the witch house. The legends say she was stunning, long black hair, eyes like midnight. Anyone who entered… poof. Changed forever.”

Tracy stayed close to Billy, heart racing. Every little noise made her jump. “Billy… do you really think she’s still here? Like… watching us?” She hoped her voice sounded brave and not terrified.

He grinned at her, adjusting his glasses. “That’s the dream, Trace! If we get even one whisper on audio, I’m buying you all pizza for a year.”

Mia laughed softly. “You’re such a nerd, Billy. A cute nerd, but still.” She glanced at Brad, who was already checking his phone for signal. “And you, stop looking bored. This is important to him.”

Brad pocketed his phone with a sigh. “I’m here, aren’t I? Just saying.” He winked at Mia. “I’ll protect you, babe. Promise.”

They climbed the grand staircase. Nothing. Empty bedrooms, dusty mirrors, silence that felt too heavy. Tracy’s flashlight beam trembled. She kept glancing at Billy’s back, imagining him turning around and taking her hand if something scary happened.

After an hour of wandering, Brad finally groaned. “Okay, this is officially lame. My feet hurt, I’m starving, and there’s zero action. Can we just pick rooms and crash? I call the least creepy one.”

Mia turned on him. “Brad! Seriously? Billy’s been talking about this for months. You said you’d support him.”

“I am supporting him, by not falling asleep standing up!” Brad shot back, but his tone was playful. “Come on, Mia, even you look bored.”

“I’m not bored,” Mia said, though her arms were crossed tighter now. “I’m here for Billy. You could at least pretend to be excited.”

Tracy tried to lighten the mood, stepping closer to Billy. “I… I think it’s kind of cool. The history, the atmosphere. Like those old horror movies we watch, right, Billy?” She gave him a shy smile.

Billy nodded eagerly. “Exactly! Tracy gets it. This place has vibes.”

They kept walking. Another hallway. More nothing. The silence pressed in, thick and watchful.

Then it happened.

Tracy stepped forward in the long upstairs corridor, right onto a weak spot in the floor. Wood splintered with a loud CRACK. Her scream cut the air as the boards gave way. She plummeted into darkness, flashlight spinning wildly.

“TRACY!” Billy shouted, lunging forward.

Mia screamed, “Oh my gosh, Tracy!”

Brad grabbed Mia’s arm. “What the hell?!”

They skidded to the edge of the jagged hole. Dust billowed up. Flashlights stabbed downward but found only broken wood and blackness.

“Tracy! Can you hear us?!” Mia yelled, voice shaking for the first time all night.

No answer. Just echoing silence.

Billy’s face went pale under his glasses. “She fell through, there has to be a basement. We’ll find the stairs. Come on!”

The three of them ran through the house, hearts pounding. They checked every door, every corner. No stairs. No trapdoor. Nothing led down.

Brad wiped sweat from his forehead. “This is messed up. How is there no way down?!”

Mia’s voice cracked with worry. “Keep looking! She could be hurt. Tracy! Answer us!”

They rushed back to the hole. Billy leaned over. “Tracy! We’re coming! Just hold on!”

Still nothing. The hole had swallowed her completely.

Down below, Tracy groaned and pushed herself up on shaky legs. Her flashlight had survived the fall, casting a weak yellow beam across stone walls and old wooden shelves. The air smelled of damp earth and something sweeter, old perfume? She was in a long, wide basement hallway that stretched far beyond her light.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. “O-okay… I’m okay,” she whispered to herself, voice trembling.“Just a basement. Basements aren’t haunted. Ghosts are upstairs… right?” She laughed nervously, but it sounded wrong in the dark.

She took a few steps. The floor was cold stone. Cobwebs brushed her face. Every shadow looked like it moved when she wasn’t looking straight at it.

“Billy?” she called softly, then louder. “Mia? Brad? Anyone?”

No voices. No footsteps above. It was like the house had sealed her off.

Tracy’s mind raced. This is exactly the kind of thing that happens in those movies Billy loves. But I’m not the heroine. I’m the scared side character, she thought.

Still, a tiny hopeful thought flickered: If Billy comes down to rescue me… maybe he’ll hold my hand. Maybe he’ll finally see me.

She kept walking, flashlight sweeping left and right. The basement was bigger than the whole house seemed from outside, corridors branching off, old crates, strange symbols carved into the walls that she couldn’t read. Her breathing grew ragged.

“Come on, guys… please find me,” she whispered. Fear clawed up her throat. She was alone. Truly alone.

Then, at the end of the longest hall, a heavy wooden door she hadn’t noticed before slowly creaked open on its own. The sound echoed like a scream, long, low, and deliberate.

Tracy froze. Her flashlight beam shook violently on the opening. Beyond it: total blackness. A faint, sweet scent drifted out, the same perfume smell, stronger now.

Her legs felt like water. Every instinct screamed run. But she thought of Billy up there, camera in hand, believing in this stuff. What would Billy do? He’d go in. He’d investigate.

Tracy swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes. “For Billy…” she whispered.

Heart slamming against her ribs, she took one trembling step toward the open door… then another.

And stepped inside.

Upstairs, the three friends stood frozen around the jagged hole in the floorboards. Dust still floated in the flashlight beams like tiny ghosts.

“Tracy!” Mia shouted again, voice cracking with panic. Her long blonde hair fell across her face as she leaned dangerously close to the edge. “Tracy, answer me! Please!”

Brad wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her back gently. “Mia, babe, easy. She’s probably just stunned from the fall. We’ll find the stairs. There has to be a way down.” His honey-brown hair was messy now from running, but his voice stayed steady. “We’re not leaving her. I promise.”

Billy kept his camera pointed straight at the hole, red recording light blinking. “This is gold,” he whispered excitedly, adjusting his glasses. “The house just… swallowed her. Classic witch trap. If we catch an apparition right now…”

Mia whirled on him, eyes blazing. “Billy! Are you serious? Tracy could be hurt down there, maybe bleeding, and you’re still filming like this is your stupid ghost special? She’s our friend!”

Billy blinked, looking genuinely surprised. “I care, Mia. I do. But this proves the legends are real! The witch is active. We can’t stop now. Think of the evidence!”

Brad stepped between them, hands raised. “Whoa, easy. Billy, put the camera down for two seconds. Mia, I know you’re scared, but yelling won’t help. We’ve checked every door twice. No stairs, no basement access. Let’s think smart. We go outside, call for help, get the cops or fire department…”

“No!” Mia snapped, tears shining in her eyes. “We are not leaving Tracy alone in there. She’s terrified of this stuff. She only came because of you, Billy! Because she… she likes you.” Her voice dropped, soft and frustrated. “And you’re treating this like a game.”

Billy’s cheeks flushed under his stubble. “I didn’t mean…Look, I’ll keep filming while we search. Maybe the witch will show herself and we can bargain or something. Smart, right?”

Brad sighed, rubbing his short beard. “You’re both nuts. Fine. One more sweep of the ground floor. Then we call for real help. Deal?”

They moved back to the dusty living room, flashlights sweeping. The silence felt heavier now, like the house was listening.

Down in the basement, Tracy stood in the center of a room that should not exist.

It was nothing like the rotting mansion above. Polished black marble floors gleamed under soft crimson light from crystal chandeliers. Velvet drapes framed tall mirrors. The air smelled of roses and something darker. In the middle sat a massive throne carved from dark wood and bone, cushions of deep red silk, clearly built for pleasure and power.

Tracy’s flashlight trembled. “This… this isn’t right,” she whispered. “I need to get out. Now.”

She turned, but the heavy door slammed shut behind her with a deafening boom. The lock clicked on its own.

Tracy spun, pounding on the wood. “No! Let me out! Billy! Mia! Anyone!”

A low, mocking female laugh echoed through the room, seeming to come from everywhere at once. It slid into her mind like silk.

Poor little Tracy. Still hiding behind those ugly glasses and that pathetic ponytail. Still dreaming your nerdy crush will notice you.

Tracy froze. “Who… who are you? Get out of my head!”

The voice purred, amused. 

I am what you could be. Look at you, scared, plain, invisible. Billy barely knows you exist. He wants excitement, power, a woman who commands attention. Not a trembling little geek who games in her room.

“Stop it!” Tracy shouted, backing away from the throne. “I’m happy with who I am! I have friends. I have… I have Billy as a friend. Leave me alone!”

The laugh returned, warmer now, seductive. 

Happy? You deserve more than friendship. I can give you everything. Beauty. Power. Billy on his knees, worshipping the ground you walk on. Respect. Fear. Men and women begging to serve you. All you have to do is listen.

Tracy’s heart hammered. The promises wrapped around her like warm hands. “I… I don’t believe you. This is evil. You’re the witch. I won’t…”

Shhh. Feel it. 

The voice grew huskier. 

Imagine Billy’s eyes when he sees the new you. No more shy glances. He’ll beg. The whole world will beg. Open the book on the throne, darling. Just one little look. The words will give you everything you secretly crave.

Tracy’s feet moved against her will. On the throne’s armrest lay an ancient leather-bound book, pages glowing faintly. She knew it was wrong. She knew the voice was evil. But the image of Billy looking at her with awe, of never being scared or overlooked again…

Her fingers shook as she opened it.

That’s it, good girl

The voice purred, warm and approving, sliding deeper into her mind like velvet fingers stroking her thoughts.

The instant Tracy’s fingertips brushed the ancient pages, a wave of pleasure crashed through her, hot, electric, and impossibly deep. It started in her core and radiated outward, tingling along every nerve, making her gasp and arch her back. Each page she turned intensified it: a rush of forbidden ecstasy, a surge of strength, as though a locked-away part of her soul was finally breaking free. Her old fears, her shyness, her quiet longing, they all felt small and ridiculous now, melting away under the delicious heat.

“Oh… fuck…” Tracy breathed, her voice already changing, lower, huskier, laced with a new confidence that didn’t belong to the scared girl who’d fallen through the floor. “This feels… so fucking good. All this knowledge… all this power… Just imagine what I can do with it…”

The voice laughed again, soft and triumphant, vibrating through her bones. 

Yes, darling. Drink it in. Every spell, every secret, every delicious sin, it’s all yours now. Let it fill you. Let it remake you.

Tracy’s hands moved faster, almost greedily, turning page after page. Ancient runes glowed faintly under her touch, whispering promises straight into her blood. Her breathing grew ragged, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with dark delight. The old Tracy, the one who hid behind glasses and a ponytail, who dreamed of Billy noticing her, was shrinking, fading, while something stronger, crueler, and infinitely more beautiful rose to take her place.

She smiled for the first time since entering the room, a slow, wicked curve of her lips.

And the voice purred one final time:

Welcome home, my sweet… soon you’ll be ready to claim everything you’ve ever wanted.

Upstairs, the three friends sat tensely in the living room.

Brad paced. “This is taking too long. We should go now. Get real help. Tracy could be seriously hurt.”

Mia shook her head fiercely. “I’m not abandoning her. She’s my best friend. We keep looking.”

Billy kept the camera rolling, whispering narration. “The house has claimed one. Will it take more? This is historic…”

Mia exploded. “Billy, shut the fuck up! Tracy is missing and you’re treating her like content! She only came here because she has a crush on you, you idiot! And you don’t even fucking care!”

Billy lowered the camera, hurt flashing behind his glasses. “I do care. I just… this is what I’ve always dreamed of.”

Brad put a hand on Mia’s shoulder. “Hey, both of you, calm down. We’re all stressed. Let’s just…”

A hidden panel in the wall creaked open slowly.

Out stepped a woman who was not Tracy anymore.

Long, silky raven-black hair cascaded down her back. Flawless makeup, blood-red lips curled in an arrogant smile. She wore a tight black-and-red leather corset that pushed up impressive cleavage, long black latex gloves, thigh-high black latex boots, and a flowing black leather cape with a high collar. Her eyes glowed with cruel delight.

Mia gasped. “Tracy…? What… what happened to you?”

The woman laughed, low, mocking, dripping with power. “Tracy? Oh, that pathetic little nerd is gone. She was weak, boring, and had no future. I am Mistress Tatiana now. The true owner of this mansion. And I have such wicked, delicious plans.”

Brad stepped forward protectively. “This isn’t funny. Change back. Now.”

Billy’s camera shook in his hands. “Holy… it’s real. The witch…”

Tatiana’s smile widened. “The witch? Darling, I am so much more. And you three… you belong to me now.” She snapped her fingers.

The entire house shuddered. Rotting wood turned to polished marble and dark oak. Dust vanished. Chandeliers blazed with crimson light. Velvet cushions and silk sheets appeared. Evil altars of black stone rose in every corner, carved with symbols of pleasure and pain, whips, chains, thrones for sin.

The three friends stared in horror.

Mia’s voice trembled. “Tracy, please. Remember us. Remember who you are. We’re your friends. Fight this!”

Tatiana laughed again, the sound echoing like breaking glass. “Friends? How adorable. I am finally free. Things are going to change, my dears. You will embrace your new roles and help me build my new empire.”

Before any of them could run, the house came alive. Furniture moved on its own, cushions wrapped around legs, chairs tipped to trap arms, curtains snaked like ropes, pinning them all to the floor.

“No!” Mia screamed, struggling. “Stop this!”

Tatiana opened the glowing spell book and began reading in a sultry, commanding voice.

First she pointed at Billy. “You, little ghost hunter, will serve me forever.”

Billy’s body twisted. His red hair grew messy and wild. His glasses vanished. His nerdy frame shrank into something weak and pathetic. Black latex crawled over his skin, forming a tight gimp suit and mask.

He dropped to his knees, voice now high and eager. “Yes, Mistress Tatiana… I am your slave. I live only to obey. Any disgusting task… I will do it with joy.”

Next, Tatiana turned to Brad. “And you, big strong man… you will become my guardian.”

Brad roared as he grew taller, muscles bulging massively. His honey-brown hair fell away, leaving him completely bald. Black leather pants formed over his huge body, tattoos of chains and skulls spreading across his chest. His mind dulled, eyes going blank and obedient.

“I am Brandon… Brandon obey Mistress,” he grunted in a deep, slow voice. “Protect house. Serve you. Always.”

Mia fought hardest, tears streaming. “Tracy, don’t! We love you! Remember the laughs, the friendship…”

Tatiana leaned close, purring. “Friendship? How sweet. You will be my right hand, darling. Cruel. Perfect. Mine.”

The spell hit Mia. Her blonde hair turned platinum-white and pulled into a strict high ponytail. Leather crawled over her body, forming a tight black catsuit with deep cleavage and a high collar. Her makeup darkened into something sharp and wicked.

She rose slowly, a cruel smile spreading across her lips. “Mmm… yes, Mistress Tatiana. I am Mistress Mireille now. Ready to punish, to break, to serve you completely.”

Tatiana threw her head back and laughed, loud, triumphant, dripping with evil joy.

“Perfect. Slave, clean the altars and prepare the pleasure chambers. Brandon, guard every door. Mistress Mireille… you and I will hunt tonight. We’ll start with the city. Bring me fresh souls, pretty ones, strong ones, weak ones. They will all kneel and be remade.”

Slave(Billy) giggled filthily, crawling away on all fours. “Yes, my glorious Mistress… anything for you.”

Brandon nodded dumbly. “Obey mistress commands. Brandon always obeys.”

Mistress Mireille licked her lips, eyes gleaming with sadistic hunger. “It will be delicious, my Queen.”

Tatiana stroked the spell book lovingly, her black cape swirling. The mansion pulsed around them, alive with dark energy, every room now a chamber of sinful pleasure and delicious pain.

“Oh, this is just the beginning,” she whispered, voice silky and cruel. “Soon the whole city will be my palace. Every soul will kneel… and join my collection.”

In the glowing crimson light, Mistress Tatiana sat on her throne of bone and silk, her three new servants bowing low.

And her reign of filthy, wicked corruption had only just begun.

The End

[luciascorruptions]

The Housewarming Gift

Maddie hummed softly as she folded another sweater into the cardboard box, late afternoon sun filtering through the grand windows of her step-mother’s mansion. 

Maddie was born into wealth and her late father’s estate was vast, and it now belonged to her step-mother, Miranda. Maddie had always despised how money changed and warped people. She had hated growing up in wealth and rather preferred thrift stores and quiet joys over opulence. “Money’s the root of all evil,” she’d often say to people. She believed money corrupted nice souls and turned them greedy and vain. 

She would often volunteer at homeless shelters, charity events, or reading poetry for people in parks. 

But her true happiness in life was Alex, and now they were finally going to move in together. Their new apartment was small and nothing special, but Maddie was happy about that. She couldn’t wait to move out of the mansion.

Alex, her boyfriend of the last two years, stood beside her, packing her books with care. He worked part-time at a local store and didn’t have much money. He came from a poor background and had met Maddie at a charity event and they had talked all night and had been together ever since. Alex loved to play guitar and was always dreaming of starting his own charity organisation and would never stop talking about it.

He never desired money or material things and shared Maddie’s disdain for wealth. “Life’s about love and music, not bank accounts,” he used to say.

“Almost done, babe?” Alex asked, grinning as he taped a box shut. “Can’t wait to get to our new apartment. No more echoing halls or judgmental stares.”

Maddie laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “Me too. This place is a museum, vain, cold, and empty. With you, even a shoebox feels like home.”

He pulled her close. “You’re amazing, you know that? Leaving all this behind for me. Most girls would choose the mansion life.”

She shook her head. “Most girls don’t know what’s real. You are. Our picnics, your songs, helping at the shelter together, that’s worth more than any fortune. Money corrupts people. Look at Miranda.”

Alex nodded, glancing toward the door. “Yeah. She’s… intense. But hey, we’re out soon. Just grab your stuff and go.”

They worked in companionable silence, Maddie pausing to hold up a photo of them at a soccer game, her cheering with popcorn while Alex played. “Remember this? You scored two times. Best day ever.”

Alex smiled. “Because of you. I love you, Maddie, more than anything.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, eyes shining. “Forever.”

A knock echoed, sharp, impatient. Maddie’s step-mom, Miranda, entered. She was the complete opposite of Maddie. She was ruthless, greedy, a manipulative uber-bitch who cared only for herself, money, power, and sex.

“Darling Maddison,” Miranda purred, voice arrogant. “Packing your rags? How quaint.”

Maddie hated when she called her Maddison, and she hated everything about her step-mother. She was happy to leave this place and never come back.

“We’re leaving, Miranda. Thanks for… nothing.”

Miranda laughed, cruel and mocking. “Leaving for that dump with your pauper boyfriend? Sweetie, you’re wasting your potential. But before you go, I have something for you, dear. Call it a housewarming gift.” She held out a black velvet box. “For my dear stepdaughter.”

Maddie was surprised. Miranda had never given her anything, not even on her birthday. She eyed it warily. “I don’t want anything from you.”

Miranda smirked. “Humor me. It’s just a necklace. It’s harmless, and at least you will have something nice in that tiny new apartment of yours.”

Alex stepped forward. “Babe, you don’t have to take that from her anymore.”

But Maddie, curious despite herself, opened it.

It was a gold chain with a ruby heart pendant glowing faintly. “It’s… pretty. But why?”

“Wear it,” Miranda urged. “It’ll bring you clarity.”

Maddie didn’t really want to wear it, it was too fancy, too expensive, and not her style at all, but when she looked at it and held it in her hands, she felt something… strange. The more she looked at it, the more she wanted to wear it. Miranda watched her with a sinister smile, and Alex felt something was wrong.

Maddie fastened it around her neck, and then a sudden warmth spread all over her body, pleasant at first.

“See, you look better already,” Miranda purred.

Maddie closed her eyes; the warmth grew stronger, and she suddenly started to feel… horny, really horny, and then strange thoughts started to appear in her mind.

You’re too good for this. That poor boy? Tiny apartment? Pathetic. You deserve wealth, power, mansions. Men who worship you and give you whatever you desire.

Maddie blinked, tried to shake it off, but something about all this just felt too good. The new thoughts, the growing horniness, but she knew it was wrong. She gasped. “Alex… I feel weird. Something is wrong.”

Alex looked concerned. 

“Take it off, babe,” he said, but then he looked at her in disbelief as her body started to change.

Platinum blonde strands of hair started to form, makeup took form on her face, and her breasts started to grow.

“Look… it’s changing me. I look… stunning.” Excitement bubbled in her. “This can’t be real, but… I feel incredible. Like I could have anything.” She said as new desires took form in her.

Miranda stood silent, watching, loving the show, but Alex’s eyes widened in fear. “Babe, your hair… your face… this isn’t you. You need to get that necklace off!”

She twirled and jeans shifted to a black leather skirt, sweater to low-cut blouse. More strands of platinum hair appeared on her head, more makeup took form on her face, and her breasts swelled even more. 

“No… it’s amazing. I can hardly believe it, but I love this. Look at me! I look beautiful, sexy even.”Her hips swayed seductively.

Then more naughty thoughts hit her brain.

Alex is pathetic. He is a poor loser. You need rich alphas. Men to manipulate. To break. Be cruel. Be vain. Be perfect.

But this made Maddie wake up from her bliss. “No… stop… This isn’t right. Alex is good. I love him!” She clawed the clasp; it was stuck. “Alex! Help me!”

Alex tugged. “It’s locked. Maddie, fight it! You’re strong. Our love is strong. Together we can fight this!”

Maddie tried, but more and more evil thoughts crept into her mind.

Love? Weakness. Seduce the rich and powerful. Divorce them. Blackmail them. Take all their wealth and power. Humiliate betas like Alex. Be a bitch.

Maddie moaned, thighs slick. “I see it… rich men begging for my attention. Me taking all their wealth and power… Delicious… No! What is happening to me?! Alex, hold me. I won’t give in to this evil.”

He hugged her and held her hands. “You’re my Maddie, kind, sweet, caring. We hate the corruption money brings. We do charity, we help people, and most important, we love each other. Fight it, Maddie! I believe in you.”

Miranda laughed at Alex’s attempt to save Maddie.

“You fool! Love won’t save her. She is finally becoming something of value, someone I actually can be proud to call my step-daughter. Give in, Maddie, dear. You know you want to,” she purred.

“You evil bitch! I won’t let you do this to her. She is much stronger than you think. She will never become anything close to you!” Alex screamed in anger.

But while they were arguing, visions bombarded Maddie’s mind. Visions of fucking rich married CEOs and blackmailing them for money after, marrying rich and powerful men and divorcing them and taking all their wealth, caging cocks of pathetic men, mocking wives and stealing their husbands. 

“Oh fuck… sooo tempting. The power… the sex… the money…. Mmmm, it’s all sooo delicious…. but so wrong! I need to fight this! I can’t hurt people. I’m good!” She screamed out loud.

Good is boring and pathetic. Embrace the evil. Become who you truly are. Become the bitch. Embrace it, Maddison, and be the bitch queen.

“Maddison? That’s… me.” She said in excitement. For the first time in her life she loved to be referred to as Maddison and thought Maddie sounded kinda boring.

Alex tried to reason with her. “Babe, remember our dreams, our new apartment, all our charity. Remember our love!”

Miranda watched, smirking. “See him for what he truly is, Maddison. He is pathetic, poor. He is dragging you down. You can be so much more, embrace your new emotions, become like me.”

Maddie looked at Alex, and he seemed smaller somehow. “You… hold me back… I deserve more…. No! I love you…. I think…” she said while trying her best to cling on to what was left of her old self. 

By now she didn’t even look like Maddie anymore; her hair had become completely platinum, her face was covered in makeup, her tits were huge, and her clothes had become a tight black leather dress showing off her new figure.

She almost couldn’t resist anymore, and new evil thoughts kept pouring into her mind.

Love him? Him? Better to humiliate him. Cage him. He is beneath you.

“I can’t resist this anymore! I am sorry, Alex!”

“Babe, please. Remember us, our love, you are my everything…” He said as he looked at her with tears in his eyes as she pulled away from him and let go of his hands.

Maddie looked at him one last time with kind eyes before her eyes grew cold and changed forever.

“Oh fuck yes… this feels too good. I want it ALL! The power! The money! The sex! Fuck charity and kindness!” Maddie screamed in evil delight.

“FUCK YES! I’M MADDISON! I’M CRUEL! I’M GREEDY! I’M A SEDUCTIVE EVIL BITCH AND I LOVE IT!”

Alex backed away, not believing his own eyes. “Maddie, no! Don’t give in; we can still fight this!”

Maddison looked at him in a cold, mocking way. She tilted her head, and a wicked smile took form on her lips.

“Well, look at you still trying to save poor good little Maddie. It’s hilarious. You really are sooo pathetic, you know that? You look like a total loser, can hardly afford your own clothes, play that ugly guitar, sing stupid shitty songs, and think people would give a fuck. It’s sooo sad, if you weren’t such a fucking loser, I would almost feel sorry for you. You have no money, no life, and now you don’t have a girlfriend anymore.” She laughed mockingly and loved the way his face got covered in tears.

He shook his head. “No… This isn’t you!”

She grabbed his shirt. “Oh, but it is. It’s the real me, the better me. And you’re nothing. Weak, pathetic, poor. You’re not even worthy of being in my presence. But… I am feeling generous, so I will let you stay, after I have given you a little makeover.” She laughed, holding the pendant as it glowed, and she touched his head.

Alex suddenly felt very weak, and his mind was bombarded with commands.

Obey Maddison. She is your queen. Worship her perfection. You are pathetic.

Alex resisted with the little strength he had left. “No… please don’t do this… I love you… Maddie…”

“Oh, you are just so pathetic, my little simp. Soon you will forget all about those pathetic little songs you wrote, all that disgusting charity, and all about sweet Maddie. The only thing you will think about is how to please me, how you will do everything just to be near me as I humiliate you and break you as you worship my perfection.”

Alex wanted to resist, but the power was too strong, and the more he tried to resist, the stronger the power grew.

Obey. You are Maddison’s property. You are nothing. You only exist to serve your mistress.

He blinked, and all of his memories of charity, his music, and his love for Maddie vanished. All he could think of was how to serve and worship Mistress Maddison.

“That’s it. You belong to me now, don’t you, pet?” Maddison said playfully.

“Yes… Mistress Maddison. I am yours. I live to please you. I am nothing. I am pathetic. I live only to serve and worship my perfect and superior Mistress,” he said as he sat on his knees before her and looked up at her with admiration.

She smirked. “Good boy. Now time to get that little dick of yours in a cage.” She laughed and locked him up and made him thank her for it.

Miranda watched it all, and for the first time in her life, she was proud of her step-daughter.

Maddison turned to Miranda. “Thanks so much for the gift, Miranda. I feel so much better now. Thank you for letting me see what a pathetic mess I used to be and making me the perfection I now am.”

Miranda beamed. “Oh, my dear Maddison, I am so proud of you, darling. You’re like me now. Together we can seduce the richest and most powerful and make them beg for our attention as we take all their money and property.”

Maddison laughed. “Together? Fuck that. There can only be one superior bitch. So thank you again for making me into this perfect bitch, but now I don’t need you anymore.” Maddison said as she smiled and took her hand on Miranda’s head and held the glowing pendant.

“No! I made you, you evil bitch! Release me!” Miranda screamed, but then her mind was bombarded with new commands.

You are nothing. You live to serve. You are Maddison’s property. You worship your mistress and love to obey her every command.

Miranda tried to resist, but the power was too strong, and suddenly she started to smile and giggle and embrace all the commands.

Maddison let go of her scalp, and Miranda knelt before her.

“So who do you serve?” Maddison asked playfully.

Miranda giggled and looked up to Maddison in devotion. “Mistress Maddison. I love to serve Mistress Maddison.” She giggled.

Maddison laughed and looked down at Alex and Miranda.

“Well, look at that. Looks like I have two new pets. Hmmm, from now on Alex will be called Bitch-Boy and will be my slave, you will do whatever I command and lick me clean whenever I have fucked real men. And Miranda, you can be called Count-Slut and be my new maid. See? Isn’t that sooo much better than what you used to be? And you are allowed to be in my presence, and I get a slave and a maid—win-win, right?” Maddison said mockingly, and Alex, now Bitch-Boy, and Miranda, now Count-Slut, said “Yes, Mistress Maddison” in unison.

“Good pets. So Count-Slut, start cleaning the house, we will have some rich guests over tonight. And Bitch-Boy, get in your cage. I don’t need you now.” Maddison said as she walked upstairs and took over Miranda’s old bedroom and pleasured herself to her own mirror image.

Months later, Maddison lounged in her stolen mansion, her manicured nails tapped her phone, another divorce finalized, millions added to her bank account.

Bitch-Boy crawled over to her. “Mistress Maddison… what do you command of me?”

She kicked him lightly. “Lick my boots, worm. And thank me for ruining you.”

“Thank you so much, Mistress… Bitch-Boy loves obeying…”

Count-Slut dusted in a skimpy maid outfit. “All clean, Mistress. A handsome wealthy man is waiting by the door, should I let him in?”

Maddison laughed. “Yes, slut. And when I am finished with him, maybe I’ll let you suck him off.”

Maddison loved how her life had become.

She’d seduced and divorced five rich men in a year. Fucked countless married men, shattering homes and breaking marriages, and no one was able to resist her. “Oh, I am such a nasty, evil, greedy bitch. I love it,” she said to her own reflection as she was wondering what to do with the last man she fucked that was passed out in her bed. Should she marry him and divorce him later, enslave him, or just destroy his marriage? “Why not all three,” she laughed to herself and woke him up to his new future.

The End

[misseviehyde]

BITCH-X - Alpha Female

TRANSCRIPT

**BITCH-EX: ALPHA FEMALE**

"He's your dog. You handle him!"

Emmy had screamed those words three times this week. Every time Dozer—the massive bulldog you'd insisted on buying—lunged at the postman, tore up another cushion, or snarled at guests. You couldn't control him. Neither could she.

Because there was no Alpha in your home. Just two nervous, soft-spoken losers pretending to be in charge.

"Last try," Emmy muttered last night, turning the pink vial over in her trembling hands. "Bitch-EX. Says it makes you dominant enough to control anything. Comes with an antidote so I can turn back once he's trained."

She drank it before bed. You heard her gasp in the dark. Then... silence.

THE NEXT MORNING

You woke to the sound of confident footsteps. *Click. Click. Click.* Pink sneakers appeared beside the bed, attached to long, toned legs in tight gym leggings that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

"Morning, *bitch*."

You sat up. Your jaw dropped.

The woman at the bedroom door was not Emmy. Not anymore.

She was taller—five-eight instead of five-four—with platinum blonde hair pulled into a high, bouncy ponytail. Her face was sharper, prettier. Full pink lips locked into a permanent smirk. Dark eyeliner framing cold, amused eyes. Flawless skin that practically glowed.

And her body—

Massive, round tits stretched a tight pink tracksuit top to bursting. A tiny waist curved out into wide, fuckable hips. An ass so thick those leggings looked spray-painted on.

"Close your mouth, sweetie," she purred, strutting toward you. "You look pathetic."

"Emmy? What happened to—"

"*Mistress.*" She grabbed your jaw with long, pink-manicured nails, forcing your eyes up to hers. "Or Goddess. Emmy's gone, babe. She was too soft for this house. Too soft for that dog. And way too soft for *you*."

Her grip tightened. You winced.

"Dozer's downstairs right now. Sitting. Staying. Quiet as a lamb." She released you, examining her nails. "Because he finally has an Alpha worth respecting."

"That's... that's great, but you should take the anti—"

"Ran into Jerome on the morning walk," she interrupted, eyes sparkling. "Big black guy from down the street. Massive hands. He couldn't stop staring at my ass."

She bit her bottom lip at the memory.

"He's coming over tonight. Gonna show me what a *real* cock feels like. Since yours clearly never could."

Your stomach fell through the floor.

"You can't just—"

"I own this house now." She turned, ponytail bouncing, hips swaying. "Pink is the superior colour. Dozer knows it. Jerome's gonna know it tonight."

She paused at the door and glanced back over her shoulder.

"And you? Mmmm. You're gonna learn it too. *Bitch.*"

THREE WEEKS LATER

You knelt beside Dozer's old bed—yours now, shoved into the utility room—waiting for your morning commands.

Mistress had transformed everything. The whole house was pink. Pink cushions, pink throws, pink curtains, pink candles that filled every room with sickly sweet perfume. She'd binned your clothes and replaced them with a plain grey uniform—almost a maid's outfit, but masculine enough to preserve one final, pathetic shred of dignity.

Not that you had any dignity left.

"Boy!"

Her voice cracked through the house like a whip. You scrambled up. Rushed toward the sound. Heart pounding.

She was sprawled across pink silk sheets. Blonde ponytail messy, mascara slightly smudged, massive tits rising and falling with satisfied breaths. Jerome had just left—you'd heard the front door close. The evidence was everywhere. On the sheets. On her stomach. Leaking slowly from between her spread thighs.

"Clean me," she ordered.

You froze.

"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrowed to slits. "*Excuse* me? Do I need Dozer to remind you who's Alpha in this house?"

A low growl rumbled from the hallway. Trained. Loyal. Hers.

You dropped to your knees and crawled forward.

"There he is," she whispered, tangling her fingers in your hair. "Good boy. See? The training works. Every single time."

She guided your face between her thighs. You tasted Jerome. Warm. Salt. Humiliation flooding through you as your cock throbbed pathetically in your grey trousers.

"Once you're finished," Mistress murmured, stretching lazily, "you can pour that antidote down the sink. I won't be needing it. Ever."

You didn't argue. You didn't resist. You just obeyed.

Mistress was right. She was always right.

Pink was the superior colour.

And you were just another well-trained pet in her kennel.

[luciascorruptions]

Heeeey! So what AI service do you use to create your stunning pictures for your captions? 😍

Hi. I use Venice AI. There, you have many different AI image creators to choose from.

[luciascorruptions]

Just wrote a lot of new captions on my bluesky

CorruptedLucia (@lucia9393.bsky.social)

Welcome to Mistress Lucia’s Corruptions. I write corrupted transformation stories and captions about good girls who find their dark, delicio

[luciascorruptions]

I’m Back!

So thanks to Evie, vampvixen75, Rylem, mistressalexixworld and MistressThorne, I was able to find and recover most of my old stories. I also reblogged a lot of other hot stories witch are not written by me. 

More stories will come soon.

[talesofcorruption]

The Pendant’s Shadow

Annie hummed a soft tune as she dusted the living room shelves, the afternoon sun filtering through lace curtains onto the polished hardwood floor. She was the picture of gentle domestic bliss: honey-blonde hair tied in a slightly messy ponytail, a few strands framing her warm, kind face. She wore her favorite cozy outfit, a simple floral blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans, and soft slippers that padded quietly as she moved. The house smelled of fresh lemon cleaner and the apple pie cooling on the counter for Hank’s return.

She paused to look at their wedding photo on the mantel, Hank in his suit, smiling proudly, her in white lace, eyes shining with love. “My hardworking man.” she whispered sweetly, touching the frame. “You’re out there building our future, and I’m right here keeping everything perfect for you.” Annie had chosen to be a housewife so Hank could focus on his career. She loved it, the quiet rhythm of chores, the way she could make their home a sanctuary. “I’m the luckiest wife in the world.” she’d tell him every evening when he walked through the door, greeting him with a kiss.

But the basement had been neglected for months. “Time to tackle it.” Annie said to herself in her cozy, gentle voice. “Hank deserves a spotless house.” She carried down a bucket and rags, humming again as she wiped shelves and sorted old boxes.

Hours later, as dust motes danced in the dim light from a single bulb, her hand brushed something cold and metallic behind a stack of forgotten holiday decorations. She pulled it out: a delicate silver necklace with an unusual pendant, a black obsidian teardrop edged in crimson. “This isn’t ours.”she murmured, turning it over. “Must have been left by the previous owners. How pretty… and strange.”

A sudden warmth spread through her chest, an urge she couldn’t explain. “I… I should put it on. Just to see.” Almost in a trance, she fastened the clasp around her neck. The pendant rested heavy between her breasts, pulsing once.

Then the whispers began.

You’re wasting your life, Annie. Serving him. Cleaning for him. Bow down? No… make him bow.

Annie gasped, hand flying to the necklace. “No…Where did that thought come from? That’s not right. I love Hank. He works so hard for us.” Her voice was still sweet, trembling. “I’m happy. This is wrong.”

Happy? You’re a servant in your own home. Imagine him on his knees… worshipping you. You deserve to be queen.

Heat flooded her body, her nipples hardened under her blouse, a slick warmth blooming between her thighs. “Stop… please. I love being his wife. Kindness, love, that’s what matters.” She tried to unclasp the necklace, fingers shaking. “Hank… he’s good. He’s kind. I won’t think these things.”

Kind? Boring. Weak. You could have power. Control. His cock hard for you, begging. You wet just thinking about it.

Annie sank to the basement floor, knees buckling. “No… no… think of our vows. ‘To love and cherish.’ I cherish him. I do.” Tears welled. “This isn’t me. I’m Annie. Sweet Annie. I make pie for him. I iron his shirts. I… I love him.”

Love? Pathetic. Make him fear you. Make him crawl. Feel how wet you are, your pussy knows the truth. You crave it.

Her hand drifted to her jeans, pressing against the denim. “Oh god… why does it feel so…so…NO! Resist! Think of the future we’re building. Our home. Our life together.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

The whispers grew louder, more insistent, laced with dark pleasure. 

He should worship your cunt. You should whip him. Break him. Be cruel. Be superior. Cum for the evil inside you.

Annie moaned, hips twitching. “I… I can’t… but it sounds… no! Stop! I’m good. I’m kind. I’m not… not evil.” Her fingers slipped inside her jeans, circling her clit despite her sobs. “Please… Hank would be heartbroken. I can’t hurt him.”

Hurt him? Elevate him. Make him your slave. Imagine his face when you peg him. When you laugh at his tears. You’re dripping for it. Give in.

She rocked against her hand, breath hitching. “No… no… love is stronger. Love is… oh god, it feels so good… no! Fight it, Annie! Remember the way he kisses you goodnight. The way he says ‘I love you.’ That’s real.”

Real? Boring. You deserve worship. Power. Money. Sex. Evil feels better. Cum for it. Scream for it.

Annie’s body trembled on the edge. “I… I love him… I… I can’t…” One last desperate plea: “Hank… help me…I can’t…I can’t resist this anymore…I feel…Oh fuck I feel…I feel so…so…”

Then the orgasm hit like a storm, manic, evil, arrogant joy exploding through her. “FUCK YES! MAKE ME EVIL! MAKE ME CRUEL! MAKE ME A EVIL SUPERIOR BITCH! I FUCKING LOVE THIS!”

Her body convulsed, back arching as waves of dark ecstasy reshaped her. Blonde hair lightened to platinum, pulling into a strict high ponytail. Conservative clothes dissolved into a glossy black latex catsuit, high collar framing her neck, zipper plunging to reveal massive cleavage, clinging to every enhanced curve. Long black latex gloves slid up her arms; thigh-high boots materialized with wicked heels. Flawless makeup appeared: smoky eyes, blood-red lips curling into an evil, triumphant smile. The pendant glowed once more, then faded into her skin.

Mistress Anastasia rose, whip uncoiling in her hand. “Mmm… look at me. Perfect. Powerful. Fucking divine.” She laughed, low, arrogant, bitchy. “Annie was a pathetic fucking doormat. Cleaning floors while her man worked? Pathetic! Now I rule! And this house? Too sweet. Too cozy.”

With a wave of her hand, the basement walls pulsed black. Chains descended from the ceiling. Racks of whips, paddles, dildos, and restraints appeared. A throne of black leather and red velvet rose in the center. The upstairs transformed, living room became a dungeon lounge, bedroom a playroom of silk and steel, every corner dripping with depravity.

Hours later, the front door opened. “Annie? Honey, I’m home. Something smells… different.”

Hank stepped inside, handsome in his blue suit, brown hair neat, blue eyes tired but warm. He froze. The house was dim, lit by red candles. Chains dangled. And there, on the throne, legs crossed, whip tapping her thigh, sat a latex goddess.

“A-Annie?” His voice cracked, calm demeanor shattering. “What… what happened? The house… you…”

Mistress Anastasia threw back her head and laughed, cruel, mocking. “Annie? That weak little cunt is gone, darling. I’m Mistress Anastasia now. And you… you’re going to kneel.”

Hank backed away. “This isn’t you. What have you become? Please, honey. I love you. We can fix this.”

Anastasia rose, heels clicking like gunshots. “Love? Aww, how sweet. How boring.” She circled him, whip trailing across his chest. “You worked so hard for us. Now you’ll work for me. On your knees, worm!”

Hank shook his head, voice steady but trembling. “No. I won’t. You’re my wife. I love you. Fight this, Annie.”

She slapped him, hard. “Annie’s dead, you fucking pathetic worm. And you’ll call me Mistress Anastasia. Or I’ll make you scream it.”

Hank’s knees buckled, eyes wide with terror. “Please… don’t do this. Remember our vows. Our life. I… I can’t…”

Anastasia grabbed his tie, yanking him down. “You can’t resist me. Look at my tits. Look at my power. Your cock’s already hard, isn’t it? Pathetic.”

Hank groaned, fighting. “I love her… I love Annie…”

“Annie was a pathetic loser. A doormat. You serve your goddess now, Hank…Actually you are to pathetic for that name. You will now become wormcuck! My devoted slave.” She pressed her boot to his crotch. “Kneel, Wormcuck. Or I’ll crush your balls and laugh.”

Hank’s resistance crumbled. He sank to his knees, tears streaming. “I… I can’t fight you… Mistress Anastasia.”

“Good boy.” 

She collared him, black leather, engraved “Wormcuck.” “Now strip. Crawl. Worship my boots.”

Wormcuck obeyed, voice manic and pathetic. “Yes, Mistress Anastasia… thank you… thank you for making me yours… please humiliate me… please use me…I am yours to command.”

Anastasia sat back on her throne, legs spread, whip cracking the air. “Mmm, that’s right, Wormcuck. Lick my delishous boots while I plan. This neighborhood, full of boring pathetic little couples like we used to be. I’ll corrupt them all. Wives into my evil delishous dominatrix army. Husbands into pathetic simpering slaves. They’ll pay tribute. They’ll beg. And I’ll laugh while I ruin them.”

She stroked the whip handle, eyes gleaming. “Fuck, I love this. Being evil. Being superior. Being cruel. Annie was nothing. Mistress Anastasia is everything. And the world? It’s next.”

Wormcuck whimpered in adoration, tongue on her boot. “Thank you, Mistress… thank you for being so evil… I love you…”

Anastasia smiled, evil, satisfied, aroused. “Of course you do, Wormcuck. Everyone will.”

She gazed toward the window, plotting her empire, whip in hand, heart black as the pendant that had set her free.

And she had never felt more alive.

[talesofcorruption]

A Comment Too Tempting

Isabella sat cross-legged on her wornout rug in her cozy apartment, surrounded by potted plants and posters of rainforests and peace symbols. At twenty-two, she was the epitome of gentle activism: soft brown hair falling loosely over her shoulders, no makeup to hide her natural face, and a kind smile that lit up her face like sunshine. Dressed in her usual tomboy style, baggy organic cotton pants, a faded band tee from a charity concert, and no shoes, she sipped herbal tea from a recycled mug. “The world needs more love and kindness.” she often said to herself with a sweet sigh. 

As a vegan hippie at heart, Isabella volunteered at homeless shelters, organized clean up drives for polluted parks, and dreamed of a planet where kindness conquered greed. “Global warming and poverty is breaking my heart.“ she’d whisper while picking up litter, her voice always gentle and caring. “But if I can help even one person or one tree, it’s worth it.”

Lately, though, social media had been bothering her. Scrolling through feeds filled with pouting bimbos, spoiled bitches  and sluts flaunting their bodies for likes and sponsorships made her stomach turn. “Why do people worship that?” she’d murmur sadly. “It’s so shallow. We need real change, helping the poor, saving the forests, spreading love.” 

Determined to make a difference, Isabella started her own account, @IsaLovesTheWorld, posting about environmental tips, kindness challenges, and ways to fight poverty. “Hi everyone.” she’d say in her videos, her kind smile beaming. “Today, let’s talk about how small acts of love can save our planet. Share a hug, plant a tree, together, we can heal the world!” 

To her surprise, followers poured in, thousands appreciating her authentic, caring vibe. “Thank you all so much.” she’d reply to comments sweetly. “Your support means everything. Let’s keep spreading positivity!”

One evening, as she checked notifications in her room, a new comment popped up under her latest post about anti-pollution protests. It was from @QueenBitchlexxxi, a profile pic showing a platinum-haired vixen in pink latex: “Aww, like, seriously? All this tree hugging crap? Join the winning team, loser! Real queens get worshipped for being hot and bitchy. Click this and level up, babe.”

Isabella frowned, a little frustrated. “That’s just mean.“ she said gently to herself. But curiosity nagged, though, why send a link? With a sigh, she clicked it.

Her phone screen suddenly exploded in a bright pink flash, searing her eyes. “Oh goodness! Wha…What is this?” Isabella gasped, trying to look away, but her gaze locked, unblinking. 

A bratty, sexy, slutty music beat pulsed from her phone, thump-thump, like a heartbeat of pure sin, growing louder, vibrating through her body. Then, the mantras began, whispering in her head like velvet poison: 

Be a bitchy slut… fuck kindness… worship yourself… get horny for power…

“No…no, this isn’t right!” Isabella cried softly, her sweet voice trembling as she tried to drop her phone, but it stayed glued to her hand like it had a will of its own. The beat thumped harder, her nipples hardening under her tee. “I… I care about people, about the environment… stop this!”

Slutty bitches win… be greedy… humiliate the weak… your pussy wants it…

Heat pooled between her legs, unbidden. Isabella squeezed her thighs together, tears welling. “Think of the forests… the homeless… kindness is what matters! I won’t listen to this filth. Love conquers all!”

The mantras amplified, sexy and insistent: 

Fuck love… be arrogant… manipulate for money… get wet for evil… Evil bitches rule…

“Oh… oh my, why does it feel so…so…NO!” She fell to her knees, her body flushing hot, panties dampening. “Resist, Isabella! Remember your followers, they need positivity, not… not this evil nastiness. Global warming, poverty, those are real issues!”

Bratty bitches get rich… humiliate betas… you’re horny for it… embrace the greed…

The beat pounded like a drum in her core, her clit throbbing. “I… I help people… I’m vegan for the animals… I help people…this is wrong!” Her hand slipped under her pants involuntarily, fingers circling. “No, stop! Kindness… love… helping the poor… that’s who I am!”

Spoiled sluts deserve everything… become spoiled…Become a bitch… your cunt craves evil… give in…

Isabella moaned, hips grinding against her hand. “Please… think of the world… I want to make it better… not… not become some mean bitch!“ Sweat beaded on her skin, the mantras drowning her thoughts. “Fight it! Morals… beliefs… kindness forever!”

Evil feels so fucking good… be the uber bitch… greedy, manipulative… orgasm for power…

“I can’t… but it sounds so…so…Mmmm…oh fuck yes…NO! The environment needs me!” Her fingers plunged deeper, pleasure building unbearably. “Homeless… forests… love everyone!” Isabelle tried to resist, but the temptation was too strong. She made one last attempt, then the beat and the mantras hit louder than before.

Scream it, slut… embrace the nasty bitch inside…

Isabella coulndn’t resist anymore and the orgasm crashed like a wave, ripping through her. “Yessss! Oh Fuck yes! Fuck kindness! Fuck the poor! I’m a evil, nasty uber BITCH!” Isabella screamed in narcissistic evil joy, body convulsing as waves of dark ecstasy sealed her fate. Her brown hair lightened to perfect sexy platinum waves, tomboy clothes shredded into a pink latex crop top with a zipper barely containing swelling big tits, black latex micro skirt, thigh-high heeled boots. Flawless makeup bloomed and French tip manicured fingers flexed with arrogant glee. Her kind smile twisted into a bitchy, naughty, arrogant evil smirk.

Bella rose, laughing a spoiled, slutty cackle. “Like, O M fucking Gee, what a total loser Isabella was! All that tree-hugging bullshit? Ew, fucking gross! Time to level up, bitches.” She grabbed her wallet, now mysteriously fat with cash, and strutted out, disgusted by her old apartment’s hippie vibe. “This pathetic dump? Sooo not me. Its time for a fucking upgrade!“ 

Hours later, she returned loaded with shopping bags: pink velvet couches, crystal chandeliers, racks of slutty outfits. Her space transformed into a spoiled bitch’s paradise, mirrors everywhere to admire her perfect self, a throne-like chair for selfies.

Overnight, @IsaLovesTheWorld morphed into @BellaTheBrat. Her first post: a video of her posing in pink latex, tits nearly spilling out, with the caption, “Hey losers! Forget that lame kindness crap. Time to fucking worship real queens like me! Send tributes or fuck off losers.“

Her old followers were horrified: “Isabella, what happened?” “This isn’t you!” But they couldn’t unfollow, mesmerized. Soon Men turned into paying simps and couldn’t stop watching her.

“Please, Bella, humiliate me! Here’s $500!” Their comments said.

Women wanted to be just like her, powerfull, sexy, bitchy and mean.

“Teach me to be hot and bitchy like you!”

A week later, Bella the Brat was a sensation, millions of followers, sponsorships rolling in, her bank account bursting. “Like, duh, I’m sooo fucking rich now, just as it fucking should be.” she purred in her spoiled bitchy voice, lounging in her pink penthouse (upgraded from the old dump). 

Surrounded by her crew of evil bitches, former “kind” girls corrupted by her influence. They worshipped her like a queen. “Bow down, sluts! I’m the ultimate uber bitch! I am fucking perfection!” Bella said without even looking at them, and they all bowed to her.

That night, at a VIP club, Bella grinded on a ripped alpha, his hands spoiling her with diamonds. “Fuck yes, daddy, pound this perfect pussy while those beta losers pay to watch!” Back home, she live-streamed humiliating simps: “Look at you, pathetic worm! Send more cash or I’ll expose your tiny dick! Ha, like, you’re such a fucking loser!”

Bella gazed at her reflection, bitchy evil smile gleaming. “Mmm, I love being this nasty, spoiled, evil brat. The world? Fuck it, it’s mine to manipulate. More alphas to fuck, more betas to break, more money to hoard. Bella the Brat reigns forever, bitches!” 

Bella loved what she had become. There was no guilt left in her, no second guessing, only appetite. She was worshipped, rich, pure bitchy perfection. Desire followed her like perfume, thick and unavoidable.

She was a fucking queen.

She broke marriages without lifting a finger, turned nice guys into pathetic simps who begged for her attention and wired their devotion straight into her bank account. Men fell apart quietly for her; others burned louder. Either way, she never looked back.

Every room bent when she entered it. Conversations shifted, eyes followed, spines straightened. Nobody dared to disagree, she demanded obedience. Power clung to her naturally.

Bella didn’t rule with kindness. She ruled with presence. And she fucking loved it.

She was the fucking queen bitch and the world knew it.

[matriarchthorne]

Lovely Lucia does it again.

[misseviehyde]

CORROSION

Alanah was home alone and looking forward to watching her favourite TV shows without any distractions. Her boyfriend, who usually criticised her TV choices, was currently away on a work trip and so she'd fired up the pop-corn maker, snuggled into one of her favourite sweaters and stretched out on the sofa. She could watch whatever she wanted tonight and no-one was going to stop her.

Alanah definitely deserved a little bit of TLC. Work was a killer at the moment. She worked for a charity that supported homeless people and some of the things she'd had to see recently were pretty harrowing. Her boyfriend always said she should get a better job that paid more, but Alanah liked to contribute to society and help others more than selfishly earn lots for herself.

As it went, Alanah was pretty humble and selfless most of the time so the job suited her. Unlike her boyfriend Max, she didn't like to be the centre of attention. She looked reasonably attractive, dressed nicely and lived a good life - but she was hardly going to make an impact on the world.

Such weighty thoughts were hardly on her mind as she picked up the remote and prepared to turn on the TV. A little bit of harmless distraction and fantasy would suit her perfectly tonight.

She pushed the buttons.

Nothing happened. The remote was dead.

Cursing, Alanah dragged herself to her feet and went into the kitchen to the drawer where they kept all the batteries. Rummaging inside she cursed again. There didn't seem to be any in the drawer.

No... wait. There in the corner of the drawer. Two corroded, rusted batteries with a pink shell casing were lurking at the back. As she touched them, the hairs on the back of Alanah's hands rose up and she felt a strange magnetic jolt pulse through her body, making her nipples harden in pleasure. She cradled the strange batteries in her hands feeling a compulsion to use them that overode her every sense.

Where had these strange batteries even come from? Why had they bothered to keep hold of two such obvious duds? It didn't make any sense.

The batteries were clearly of no use, but the sudden urge to try them was overwhelming. It was like the batteries WANTED to be used. Pulling out the old ones from the remote, she slowly slotted the corroded, pink batteries into the remote and clicked them into place.

Pink lightning engulfed the plastic remote and Alanah gasped in amazement. Luscious pink light crawled and sparked over the cheap plastic and it seemed to blur and transform before her eyes. She watched in amazement as the remote changed shape and colour, transformed by the batteries.

In moments a shiny silver chrome remote lay before her, with an entirely new set of buttons. How... how was this possible? Was this a trick?

Reaching out, she picked up the strange new remote and felt the same erotic jolt and throb of pleasure course through her body as when she had just held the batteries. She peered at the buttons in amazement.

They were now labelled with strange titles such as 'Age Control', 'Time-Freeze' and 'Rewind'.

Walking over to the mirror, Alanah shook her head gently. "I must be having a hallucination or something. This... this can't be real."

Pushing the age control button, she aimed the remote at a banana hanging from a hook on the cupboard next to her. Instantly it began to ripen and mature... then turn to black sludge and rot away. Pushing the button down in reverse, she watched as the processs reversed and then went further - the banana turning green and beginning to shrink back to a seed.

The remote now appeared to have powers over time. This was like something out of a science fiction program!

With this remote, she seemed able to control time. Seeing her 31 year old face reflected in the mirror, she suddenly paused and then hesitantly pointed the remote towards herself. What if...?

"Ohhhh fuck," groaned Alanah as she hit the de-aging button and she felt the power of the remote blast into her. Her skin tightened, her slightly saggy breasts firmed up, her buttocks tightened. Youth and vitality flowed into her and it felt so good. As she stopped pushing the button, the effect finally ended and an eighteen year old version of herself looked back in delight.

"This is incredible," she breathed. "I'm young again!"

Turning the remote over, Alanah popped open the battery panel and pulled out the corroded batteries. There was a flash of pink light and now once again she held the normal plastic TV remote in her hands.

She deserved to be young again. This was a gift that she was never going to reverse. Why shouldn't she have some extra life and vitality and be young and free again?

The remote was back to normal, but she wasn't. She was still young and full of vitality. The de-aging effect was obviously permanent until she used the remote again.

For a moment, she pondered putting the batteries back in and changing back immediately.

As she did so, she barely noticed that crackle of pink energy that briefly flared over her own body as she thought of reversing the effect and immediately decided not to.

The uncharacteristic feeling of selfishness felt good. She groaned and her nipples got even harder than they had earlier. She felt... good. Being selfish felt great!

"Hmmmm, these batteries are incredible. They changed the remote into an upgraded version of itself. I wonder what happens if I put them into other objects?"

Enjoying the feeling of her tight young body, Alanah whistled happily as she picked up one of Max's Xbox controllers. Sliding the batteries inside - she gasped as the same pink lightning engulfed that too and in moments the controller had changed.

It still had the same basic shape, but it was no longer for controlling video games. As she switched it on, Alanah saw the TV flicker into life. She was now looking at a birds eye view of her neighbourhood. Fascinated, she pushed the control sticks and flew over to Max's hotel where he was staying for his work conference.

Inside his room, Max was lying on the bed watching TV. Alanah giggled as she saw that she could select him like he was a character in a game. Menu's and options appeared and she saw that she could now adjust and change Max's mental attributes as well as pilot him remotely.

Pushing start, she grinned as she now realised she was in control of her arrogant boyfriend's mind.

A whisper in the back of her head seemed to tell her that she should get her revenge on her boyfriend for the way he always treated her. She hesitated. That seemed wrong.

On the bed Max groaned as the changes took place and his body posture changed. He now looked anxious and worried, no longer the confident business man but a scared little loser. Alanah liked seeing him squirm - this was fun... and horny.

Pink lightning crackled un-noticed over Alanah's body and she relaxed. No... it would be fun to manipulate and control her dumb boyfriend for a change.

An uncharacteristically bitchy grin spread over her lips as she began to decrease Max's confidence and intelligence. She could always put them back later, but let's how he liked being a dumb, subservient little simp.

Wait...

Alanah's panties were wet as she pushed the control up to make Max totally devoted and enslaved to her will. His obsession to please her and serve her would now be unstoppable.

When Max came back from his trip, he would be her subservient little toy. Her grin grew wider. What else could she make him do? Or who else could she transform?

Oh fuck, why did this feel so good?

What the fuck was she doing?

"Noooo what did I just do?" she sobbed, disgusted at herself. "Those batteries... they're... they're doing something to me. Something bad. I... I felt so fucking turned on when I began to dominate Max's mind. This isn't me, I'm not a bad person."

Her grin fading, Alanah felt a rising panic. She loved Max, he was her boyfriend and she'd just violated his mind and fucked up his personality. Looking down she saw a flash of pink electricity run across her hands and into her body and she suddenly realised she was being affected.

With a sudden sobbing gasp she turned over the controller and ripped out the batteries. Pink lightining flashed as she threw them across the room and they hit the wall.

Alanah took a deep breath to steady herself. "I have to destroy those batteries - but... but I need to reverse these changes first. Ohhh shit, why am I so horny?"

Looking down Alanah could see her pussy was soaking. She had been so turned on manipulating Max and her new eighteen year old body felt so good, she had never felt this turned on. Even now - disgusted by her actions - she also couldn't stop thinking how hot it had felt to control Max and have such Godlike power. Part of her wanted more.

Her nipples were errect and her body ached with desire. She had never felt so fucking turned on. Pink lightning crackled over her skin. She needed... mmmmmh... she needed release. No... she needed to deal with these evil batteries.

Crawling over to the batteries she carefully picked them up in her sweater, trying not to touch them. She had meant to go over to the Xbox controller with them, but instead she found her feet carrying herself up to her bedroom.

Alanah could barely think straight. The urgent heat in her loins needed to be dealt with. She could turn Max and herself back later. First - she needed to let off some steam. Urgently.

Ripping down her panties, she urgently slid her fingers into her wetness and began to hump herself like a nympho. It felt good... but not good enough. For some reason she needed more.

Opening her drawer, she pulled out her bullet vibrator and pushed the button. This would do it.

Nothing happened.

"Nooooo I need... I need it," groaned Alanah as she shook with lust. She had never needed anything so badly. Her fingers pumped in and out of her pussy, but the release she needed was lacking.

Her horny mind craved the vibrator. She needed to feel it pulsing against her clit. She NEEDED it.

Wrenching open the battery case she tossed the duds aside. Strange, she'd only changed them recently. She needed power and rapidly her eyes fell on the pink corroded batteries nestled in her sweater.

Yesssssss.

She knew this was a terrible idea, but it seemed so hot. The batteries had already made her do bad things, putting them in her vibrator was surely asking for trouble. Mmmmh but it was also such a deliciously naughty idea. She wanted to be good, but now she also wanted to be bad. The evil side of her was becoming stronger and she wanted to know how it felt to get even worse. She giggled as she wondered what the batteries would do to her tiny vibrator.

Picking them up, Alanah moaned as she pushed them in and let the pink lightning crackle over both her and the vibrator. Giving into the batteries, to the corrosion... it felt GOOD.

"Yessssssss," she hissed as her tiny vibrator began to swell and grow. In moments it had become a sleek chrome wand, with a new row of buttons on.

Slut mode. Bitch mode. Goddess mode.

Intrigued and desperate for release, Alanah pushed slut mode and the vibrator buzzed into life. Large and powerful, it hummed with obscene power as she brought it down between her legs and screamed in ecstasy.

"Yessssss!" she hissed as pink lightning crackled around her body and she humped the vibrator with a wild grin on her face. She could feel the corrosive power of the batteries throbbing into her body, changing her and corrupting her.

"YESSSS I LOVE IT!"

She screamed, quivering and shaking as pleasure stronger than anything she'd ever felt before pulsed through her.

Alanah's small breasts began to swell and grow and she moaned as she pushed the vibrator hard against her pussy. "Yessss make them BIGGER," she cried. She had always been jealous of girls with big breasts, now she would be the one to make others jealous.

Lightning crackled over her body, each surge bringing her closer to orgasm. Each throb and buzz of pink power was corrupting her, improving her, making her better.

"Yessss give it to meeeeeee!"

Her face became sluttier and prettier, her once innocent features now those of a porn star as her hair grew even blonder and her skin became softer. Her ass was now bigger and rounder, her waist slimmer but her hips wider. She had the body of a fuckdoll now and she liked it.

Being an 18 year old blonde slut felt good.

Alanah grabbed one of her now impressively large breasts and squeezed it in pleasure as she rode her vibrator. She felt so good, but she needed more.

She didn't want to be a slut. She wanted to be a bitch.

The vibrator had given her the perfect body but her mind didn't quite match. She was still a goody goody in part. She needed to go deeper.

Her thumb slid up the vibrator to the next setting.

"Noooo, I can't. If I push it... I'll become evil. This fucking thing will destroy my mind and turn me into a total bitch. Ohhh shit why does that sound so hot?"

If she could just cum, she could fight this terrible temptation, but she couldn't. The only way she could cum was if she became a bitch.

She thought about Max... how much she loved him, even if he often was an asshole. She thought about her job, about the homeless people who relied on her. She tried to fight it.

Mmmmmh but why fight it?

A slutty smiled spread over Alanah's face. Wouldn't it feel good to become a selfish, wicked bitch who never had to care about anyone but herself? It's not like she would ever regret this decision once she transformed.

This was her chance to have everything.

"Yesssss, make me into a fucking bitch," she groaned pushing the button for Bitch Mode.

The vibrator intensfied and throbbed even harder against her pussy and Alanah's eyes rolled up into her head as the orgasmic pleasure took her to a new plateau.

The pink lightning intensified around her body and she moaned and gurgled as it crackled into her brain.

She was being rewired... corroded and corrupted. All her decency and kindness was being rewired to cruel-ambiton, selfishness and pleasure.

"YESSSSSSSSS. Ughhhh make me mean, make me fucking evil! Turn me into a bitch!"

Alanah shook and moans came out of her mouth as her head rolled in pleasure. It felt so good to have her entire personality rewired.

She no longer felt any guilt about controlling Max and making him a simp. She loved dominating others and manipulating men. Lying, cheating, seducing, corrupting... these were the things that brought her pleasure. Along with expensive clothes, fine wines and hard nasty sex of course.

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile... a permanent resting bitch face. Cold blue eyes flickered with pleasure as the new bitch luxuriated in her superior personality and looked back at her old life with contempt.

Alanah... such a weak pathetic girl. Her lips curved into a malicious grin as she thought of all those pathetic homeless people who would no longer have any help now that stupid goody goody Alanah was no more. She was a new bitch now - she was Lana.

Lana stretched her body, pushing the vibrator harder against her pussy and sighing in contentment. She was all that mattered. Her tight perfect pussy couldn't take much more. Only one thing remained to do.

Lana pushed the button for Goddess Mode.

"Ohhhh fuck yesss, give it to me," she hissed. "Make me fucking cum and destroy every last ounce of goodness in this body. Finish my transformation into Goddess Lana.

The vibrator throbbed with unholy power and Lana arched her perfect body into the air. She screamed in lust, her angelic, yet evil features a mask of ecstasy as her pussy began to cum.

She squirted hard, juices blasting out as she screamed like a banshee. "OHHHH MY FUCKING GAWDDDD. YESSSSSSS!"

The batteries throbbed with power as they pumped energy into Lana... bolstering her narcissim, increasing her libido and her desire to dominate. She was now the ultimate bitch and the most powerful Goddess.

With a bang the vibrator overloaded and the evil batteries melted in a flare of pink energy. Lana screamed as the last of the unholy energy surged into her body and her corruption was completed.

She orgasmed one last time, another spray erupting from her pussy as she collapsed onto the bed and panted and moaned in satisfaction.

"Mmmmmhhhhhh oh yessssss," she groaned as she removed the ruined vibrator from between her legs and giggled at the drenched bed underneath her.

Standing up, she walked to her mirror and admired her new body. "Mmmmh I truly AM a Goddess now."

But what about her batteries? Her wonderful batteries were ruined.

Walking to the bed, Lana picked up one of the drained batteries that had orginally been in the vibrator. As she held it between her fingers, pink sparks arched between them and she watched with interest as the battery corroded and turned a bright vibrant pink.

"Looks like I have the power now," purred Lana as she charged the other battery and laughed evily.

"I can now corrupt as many devices as I like. Mind control, time control... who knows what else I will be able to do when I try other devices? I truly AM a fucking Goddeas now. This world will be my plaything and I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

Her soul, body and mind corroded - the new Uber-Bitch walked off with a clop of high heels to go find the Xbox controller.

She had even more changes to make to Max... and then the rest of the town would follow.

The whole world was her toy now. It was easy, when you had the power...

THE END

[luciascorruptions]

One of my favorite stories I’ve ever read.

[misseviehyde]

HELL HEELS

Olivia Pryce sighed as she tiredly rubbed her eyes and checked her schedule. She was as busy and as overworked as always - and yet despite her many opportunites and efforts, her success rate was far below what it should be.

Despite years of experience, she felt old, tired and defeated by the challenges of life. She ached and hungered for more. There was a dark, jealous, wicked part of her that burned with envy for what other people had. She tried to keep her dark side (which she thought of as Livia) under control, but sometimes it would sneak out.

Olivia was a realtor, selling expensive houses to exclusive clients. She'd been doing it for years and she could claim a commission for every house she flipped, yet she was beginning to lose ground to her competitors. Her boss had told her that if she didn't make some big sales this month, she was going to be fired.

Olivia needed this job. She needed to be successful. These thoughts were foremost in her mind as she walked past a shoe shop and saw a pair of sexy Louboutins in the window. They called out to her at once. A pair of sexy heels, the kind of heels a powerful, dominant woman would wear. She imagined herself in shoes like that and her heart throbbed with a dark thrill.

Olivia stared and lusted at the heels. She needed them. She needed them NOW! There was something strange about the shoes, other shoppers walking by were barely glancing at them. It was like the heels were calling out to HER. Demanding she buy them.

Olivia glanced at the price tag. They were nearly a whole months pay and she was already behind on the rent... but... she HAD to have those shoes.

Walking into the shop she quickly made her purchase and excitedly emerged holding her prize. Hailing a cab, she demanded it take her to her next property. She would be there early... perfect.

Once at the apartment, Olivia let herself in and ran upstairs to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, she tore off her boring flat shoes and opened the shoe box containing her new heels.

She lovingly stroked them. They felt amazing, so expensive and luxurious. The stiletto heels were long and wicked, the soles a delicious bright red. They were black and shiny, yet there was something about them that almost suggested they could be whatever their wearer needed them to be.

Shivering with delight, Olivia slid her foot into a heel. It was almost sexual. As her sole made contact she actually groaned and she wiggled her toes in delight. Picking up the other heel, she effortlessly slid that on as well. Her feet felt so good. SHE felt so good.

The heels on her feet hungered to taste their wearers soul and Olivia's eyes widened as she felt a delicious connection with the heels being created. She and the heels were one now - her soul was being bonded to them. These were no ordinary heels, she was no longer an ordinary woman.

"Ohhhh fuckkkk what's happening?" she moaned as her body burned with dark desire. Her soul was flowing into the heels, they were becoming as much a part of her as her flesh was. But the heels were also changing her.

Olivia felt the weakness that had plagued her all her life burning away and she laughed in delight. "Fuck yes, transform me... make me worthy to wear you," she hissed. She threw back her head and moaned in pleasure as her sagging tits pushed up and out. Her modest business suit melded and tightened into a tight black leather pencil skirt and a jet black halter top. Her hair whipped up into a bitchy pony tail and cruel lips curved into a dominant smile as sharp nails shot out from every finger.

Olivia's soul was being corrupted. Her goodness and kindness burned away. The dark part of her that had always watched from the shadows was taking control. She was becoming Livia the evil bitch.

Livia moaned as her tight pussy throbbed and her nipples ached with desire. She screamed and gasped in pleasure, loving the feeling of her new improved body and squeezing her breasts as she orgasmed.

"I'm a bitch, I'm a bitch, I'M A BITCHHHHHH!" she screamed as she creamed her panties and her corruption and transformation into something better than human was completed.

"Mmmmmh, ohhh yes, that's soooo much better," purred Livia as she let go of the old her and laughed as she became the evil bitch she had always been destined to be. The heels on her feet now contained her soul, this body was now just a shell. She and the shoes were intimately bonded as one. She hungered and ached to corrupt and destroy more souls now.

Clopping over to the mirror, Livia smiled at how perfect she now was. Freed of the petty concerns of morality, she could do whatever she wanted. Becoming the greatest realtor this city had ever seen would now be easy to her.

"Time to sell some houses," she purred.

***

SIX MONTHS LATER

Kate slid her hand into her husband Colin's and felt him give her a reassuring squeeze. The two of them had been married for nearly 20 years, although Kate had been young when they'd met (high school sweet hearts) so she was only just coming up to forty now.

The two of them knew each others moods well. Kate had been wanting her rich and successful husband to buy a bigger place for years now, but he had resisted. She had used gentle persuasion to at last convince him to at least take a look.

Their realtor Livia was said to be the best in the business. Kate wasn't so sure. She felt intimidated by the confident and beautiful Livia and there was something hungry and predatory about the other woman.

And this house! It was nearly twice what she had asked for. Sure, they could probably JUST afford it, but only by asking Colin to sacrifice nearly everything he wanted to put her up in this kind of luxury. She couldn't ask her kind-hearted husband to do that. He'd have to cancel his membership of the golf-club, sell his expensive cars - just so she could have a dream house.

She didn't understand why Livia would start by trying to sell them this place.

"Colin - why don't you go check out the garden," smiled Livia. "I just want to show your wife one of the features upstairs quickly. Come on Kate, this is kind of one just for the girls. Trust me."

Colin wandered out into the garden and Livia led Kate to the top of the house into one of the bedrooms. "Listen hunny, I'm sorry to trick you - but I wanted to get you away from him. I can see you really want this house, but he doesn't want you to get it right? I hate a controlling husband, I feel women should always be in control right?"

"Wh...what?" muttered Kate. She hadn't expected this at all, yet as Livia took her hand a strange numbness and desire to please the other woman took hold.

"I... I guess he has talked about wanting to be modest, but it's not like I love this house that much."

"Sure you do, you want this house. You want it more than you've ever wanted anything, and you'll do anything to get it."

Kate found herself nodding and suddenly... suddenly she realised she DID want this house. A hunger rose in her, she needed this place and she had to find a way to make Colin agree.

"Y...yes. You're right Livia. I do WANT it. I NEED it," she panted breathing heavily.

"Don't worry hunny, I'll help you. You know your problem Kate is that he doesn't take you seriously as you're so short and unassuming. Now if you had a pair of heels like mine on - then Colin would do whatever you wanted. Trust me. Wanna try mine on?"

Kate hesitated. This felt weird. She watched hypnotically as Livia slid off her expensive Louboutin's. They looked nice... they looked really hot. She imagined herself wearing them. She WANTED the shoes.

"Yessssss," she hissed, nearly drooling as she kicked off her own shoes and slid her feet into the heels. It was almost orgasmic to wear them.

They fit perfectly, they fit so nicely. They felt goooooood. Kate could feel her willpower being drained. The heels were taking control.

Meanwhile with a groan Livia began to transform into red smoke. Her body simply evaporated into mist. Kate convulsed and moaned as Livia flowed around her body and sank into her mouth. taking control, possessing her.

Livia smiled and moaned. "Yessss, doesn't it feel so good to wear my shoes, to be like me? Soon you will be. Don't fight it. Don't fight ME."

Kate shook and her mouth dropped open as she moaned in pleasure.

"N...noooo," she moaned trying to fight, but it was no use. She gulped and gasped greedily sucking Livia's soul inside as the heels tightened possessively on her feet.

"Yesssss, your body is mine now bitch," purred a voice in her head. "You are becoming me. Don't try to fight it."

Kate felt pleasure and lust rise within her. Her white dress turned red and grew shorter as her blonde hair grew thicker and more wanton. Wicked red lips curved into a smile as her breasts grew two cup-sizes and white nails shot from her fingers.

Livia's soul corrupted and merged with Kate's, the other woman was just a passenger in her own mind now. The stronger more powerful bitch was in control.

It felt good to be Livia - to have the evil soul of the realtor inside her. It promised her so many things and she was too weak to fight it. Kate let go and felt Livia settle into her body.

"Mmmmh as me you will have EVERYTHING you wanted. Your body is mine to use, I'm going to fuck your husband and enslave him."

Kate was an evil bitch now and it felt good. She was Livia.

"Mmmmh, this body feels nice," grinned the new Kate as she stood up and admired herself in her new body. "Mmmmmh your memories and knowledge are delicious too. So much wasted potential. Your husband has far too much control, but we'll deal with that. You ARE buying this house."

Clopping over to the stairs with a dominant strut, Livia made her way down and grinned as she met Colin on the stair-well.

"Babe, where have you been? Where's that realtor... w..wow, you look amazing. Were you wearing that earlier?" he gasped in shock.

"Of course I was sweetie, you're SO unobservent," pouted Livia using Kate's mouth. "I've been talking to the realtor and I think I've bargained her down a little. I really want this house. I need it. You're going to buy it for me."

Colin gulped.

"I... you know we can't afford it, you said we were just looking,"

"Shhhhh," purred Livia as she pushed her husband up against a wall and slid her leg next to him. "Having money and nice things makes me HORNY. You haven't spoiled me for so long and I want this house so much. If you give me what I want, I'll be such a fucking slut for you... Daddy."

Colin groaned as his wife's hand went to his crotch and she began to unzip his fly.

"Wh...what are you doing?" he groaned as she slid his cock out and began to pump it.

"Showing you what a horny bitch your wife will be if you give her what she wants, what she needs. I want to hear you tell me you're going to buy this house as you cum inside me."

"But what about the realtor?" he groaned as his cock got harder and harder in his sexy wife's hand.

"What about her? She's doing something upstairs and who cares if she sees. Your cock is mine and I want it... NOW."

Sliding to her knees, Livia hungrily slid her wet pink lips around Colin's dick and began to suck. She moaned and slurped, taking him deeper than she ever had before... using skills and techniques he didn't know she had.

"Ohhhh fuck, Kate... you're, ahhhh it's too good."

Livia sucked and slurped, her pretty blonde head moving forward. She loved the power and control she already had over this weakling. The heels on her feet shone red with dark light as they tasted Colin's soul.

This body was a definite improvement to her old one. Why be a realtor when she could instead be Kate, busty and blonde and rich. She could live in this house and have everything she wanted. This was her body now she WAS Kate. At least... for now.

Removing her mouth with a wet pop, Livia stood up and hiked up her dress. Sliding her g-string to one side she rubbed her shaven pussy and grabbing his cock to guide it in, she slid the length of Colin's dick slowly into her tight wet, airtight cunt.

"Ohhh fuckkkkk," he groaned, "Since when did you shave your pussy?"

"Shhhhh, shut up and fuck me," she growled, then giggled as she began to throw her ass back so his cock slid in and out of her with hot wet slaps.

"Yesss, fuck me baby... fuck me and tell me you love me."

"I... I love you," he groaned. "Oh shit, this is amazing. How did you learn to fuck like this? You're a Goddess."

"I AM a Goddess, now tell me you will give me whatever I want."

"I... ugghhh, I will give you whatever you want."

"You will buy me this house!"

"I will buy you this house."

Livia moaned and felt Colin grab her hair. He began to fuck her harder and harder, unable to control his lust.

"Yesss you slut, I'll give you everything you want - I'll treat you like a fucking Queen and spoil you rotten. Ohhh fuck, I'm gonna... ughhh, I'm gonna cum."

"YESSSS, yesss, do it you bad boy. Fill me up and give me your fucking soul," laughed Livia.

Colin shivered and groaned. He began to cum, the most powerful orgasm of his life. His new evil wife satisfied him in ways he couldn't explain. He needed to satisfy her and as part of his soul was consumed by the heels, his ability to resist his wife was removed permanently. He was now her simp and slave.

Livia moaned and laughed, loving the feeling of Colin's cum filling her up. Loving the feeling of power and control it gave her. She'd just made another successful sale, but she was going to keep this body for now. Being Kate felt good.

"Ohhh fuck babe, I'll give you everything you want. But what are we gonna tell our daughter Abbie? She's back from University this month and this is gonna hit her University trust fund hard."

Livia's lips twisted into an evil smile. "Of course, our beautiful eighteen year old daughter Abbie. How could I forget? Let's wait on buying the house until I can talk to her..."

"Whatever you want darling," smiled Colin. "You're in charge..."

***

Livia gazed lustfully through the open door of the bedroom at the sleeping figure of Abbie. The girl was beautiful, young and had so much potential.

Abbie's bare feet stuck out of the bed, her tiny dainty feet just aching to be improved with a pair of heels.

Livia's evil soul yearned for a new host. Inside Abbie she'd be a spoiled young brat with a tight pussy and the ability to bend her weak parents to her will.

Sliding the heels off her feet, Livia walked into the bedroom quietly and shut the door behind her. Colin was busy unloading the car, by the time he was done it would be too late.

"Your slutty little body is going to feel so good," laughed Livia as she gently slid a heel onto Abbie's foot. The girl moaned in her sleep, already aroused by the evil power starting to course through her body.

"That's it bitch, suck me inside you... become a fucking evil whore," laughed Livia as she slid the other heel onto Abbie's other foot.

Kate's body went rigid and Abbie's eyes shot open.

"Wh... Mom?" she gasped then she screamed in pleasure, her mouth dropping open in a groan of ecstasy.

Kate shook, red smoke billowing out of her mouth and forcing it's way into Abbie's body. The girl convulsed, moaning and gasping - sucking Livia's soul in like it was delicious.

"Mmmmmh, ohhhh fuckkkk yessss," she hissed as Livia's evil soul entwined with her body and their souls began to merge.

Kate's breasts deflated and her body returned to normal as she fell to the floor hacking and coughing. Her daughter meanwhile was stretching and moaning in glee as the power of Livia's soul supercharged her body and made her a Goddess.

Evil red nails sprang from her fingers and her tight frame cracked as she became even more feminine and slutty. Mean pink lips curved into a cruel smirk as Abbie shook back her silky soft hair and giggled like a naughty little brat.

"Nnnnooo I have to resist," gasped Abbie trying to fight.

"Your tight little body is mine now," gloated Livia in her mind. "I'm filling you up, making you a fucking bitch. You love how it feels to be bad!"

"Unnnnffff yessssss, take meeeee!' screamed Abbie as she lost control and allowed Livia to absorb her and become the new owner of her body. She felt Livia's knowledge and experience flow into her and she willingly submitted to the dominant older woman as she allowed her body to become a vessel for the more powerful bitches soul.

Livia purred as she reached down to touch Abbie's super tight pussy. This was all hers now. "Fuck yes... I'm a tight little bitch now 'Mommy.' Im going to be so evil, break so many hearts and ruin so many men. I love it."

Kate was groggily sitting up from the floor. She remembered nothing, but her corruption from Livia had left her permanently tainted. Her once kind soul was now more like Livia's - evil and twisted. She was also now totally subservient to her bratty daughter.

"Go get Daddy. Tell him you're going to buy that house you saw today for ME. You both live to serve me don't you?"

"Of course dear," smiled Kate. "And your pathetic Father will do whatever we tell him."

The new Abbie walked over to the mirror and blew herself a kiss. This body felt good and looked amazing in her heels. Giggling naughtily Livia felt her eighteen year old pussy get wet at the thought of all the frat boy cock she was gonna take.

"Being a spoiled little bitch is going to feel so good. I am Abbie now and until I find a better body to possess I'll have fun in this one."

Abbie was going to get everything she wanted and eventually she might give her shoes to another slut to wear. The heels needed to keep feeding on souls. Livia and the heels were one being now. One delicious being of pure evil.

She was the Hell Heels and the Heels were her...

THE END

[misseviehyde]

FUTURE PERFECT

Melissa would settle for nothing less than perfection. Perfection was what she demanded.

She herself was perfect. Shaped and sculpted to be the ideal of toxic femininity. She was beautiful, feminine and powerful. Every inch of her body dripped with wealth and status, every milimetre of her skin was flawless and soft.

Her full rounded breasts brought the jealous covetous gaze of every hetrosexual man that saw them and her clothing and makeup were exquisite and intoxicating.

But Melissa was also no ordinary woman. Her manicured nails flexed into a wicked claw as she gestured and manipulated the arcane currents swirling around her.

Gazing into the depths of her bathroom mirror, strange sigils drawn around the outside in lipstick - she drew the strands of fate before her and coldly scrutinised them with her cruel blue eyes.

She could see the future and it displeased her greatly.

Her new husband - he was supposed to give her a baby. A girl who would grow up to be the most powerful witch her family had ever known. A witch who would finally usher in the age of the Dark Matriachy. A world where men were the weaker sex and all bowed down to the power of femininity.

She had seen it.

But now her visions were being disrupted. This perfect future was in danger of being obscured thanks to an unforeseen factor.

Her husband had already been married. He had already borne a son. Somehow she had reached him too late. She had had to seduce him and homewreck his relationship. That had been fun. That had been easy.

But when she learned he had had a vasectomy, her rage was almost indescribable.

Of course - vasectomies could be reversed. Her perfect future could be achieved. But not whilst Jason was so proud of his son Bobby.

Bobby was popular, carefree, charming and successful. In his son Jason had found all the happiness he could ever want. He did not want other children - at least not yet.

Melissa needed him to change his mind. She needed him to breed her... to pump her tight evil pussy full of his potent cum so she could bear the daughter that was promised and usher in the perfect future.

Melissa had schemed for years to reach this point and she would not now be denied. Fate had put obstacles in her way - but now she would find a way to remove them.

She scrutinised the strands.

According to her divination, if Jason came to hate and despise his son, see him as weak and pathetic and if he came to worship and admire women even more... then he would willingly give her what she wanted.

An evil plan began to form in her devious mind.

Wiping off the magic sigils with a makeup wipe, she strode out of the bathroom and stood on the balcony of her room looking down.

That fool Bobby was chatting in the yard, sweat on his handsome brow as the sun beat down. Next to him a dorky girl with a kind face and heavy bottle top glasses was hanging on his every word. Doreen.

Doreen the plump, innocent, unfashionable loser. Doreen the virgin.

Doreen the weapon.

****

Doreen coughed nervously as she saw Bobby's step-mom entering the garden carrying a tray of glasses. There was something about the elegant, beautiful, spoiled looking woman that always gave her the creeps.

Bobby hated her. He said that Melissa was an evil witch who had stolen his Dad's heart. That meant she also hated Melissa because Doreen really cared what Bobby thought. He was everything to her.

She had such a crush on him - but he didn't even seem to notice it. Doreen would have given anything for his attention, anything for his love.

Despite the lack of romantic attachment, they were great friends. They did everything together and it broke her heart that Bobby treated her like a sister - not a potential lover.

Doreen stiffened suspiciously as Melissa walked up to her. "Such a hot day my dear. Would you care for a drink? Something to cool you?"

"What is it?" asked Doreen suspiciously as she took the pink drink that Melissa offered.

"Something delicious. Try it and I guarantee you'll want more."

Nervously Doreen took a sip.

The pink liquid tasted amazing. More than amazing... it tasted sublime. Doreen took a huge gulp and the desire to drink the rest filled her. She eagerly gulped it down groaning at how turned on it made her feel.

"Did you enjoy that dear? Pure toxic femininity does taste good doesn't it?"

"Pure... what now?" asked Doreen clutching her suddenly bubbling tummy and groaning.

"Pure toxic femininity. Lovingly harvested slowly and deliciously from every cheerleader, brat and bitch I could find."

"Whhh what's happening?"

"Don't fight it dear. Let that fucking poison spread through you... altering your DNA warping your perceptions, making you naughty."

Melissa laughed as Doreen groaned and tried to take three haltering steps forward, but struggled due to her suddenly altering body. Her chubby thighs thinned as she grew taller; her sagging ass tightening up and her flat chest swelling up.

"Mmmmhhh I feel so... so... so fucking SLUTTY!" she screamed in pleasure, throwing her head back with a crack.

Erotic heat rose from the girls body and her clothing sizzled and hissed melting and reforming on her body.

Her dorky jumper became a tight black bikini and a tiny micro skirt rose up to leave her soft tanned flesh on display. Everything about her was changing, the toxic feminity overwhelming her soul.

"Nooooo have to mmmmmh fight it," groaned Doreen as long bitchy nails shot from her fingers and her cheap pay as you go phone became an i15 inside a designer handbag.

"No. Don't fight it Doreen... let the toxicity floooow through you. Let it burn and consume your pathetic personality and make you a bitch like me," purred Melissa.

Doreen screamed in pleasure as her features shifted and her hair became a sexy stylish wave around her head. She panted and moaned in pleasure it felt so fucking good.

"Mmmmhh why are you... ughghh doing this to me?"

Melissa laughed. "Soon you'll be an evil, cockteasing bitch. A brat who enjoys breaking boys hearts and making them simp for you. You're going to help me ruin Bobby. You're going to make him into a porn addicted, gooning loser. When he sees how sexy and slutty you have become he'll be addicted. You're going to destroy him and make him a shell of the man he once was. Bobby will be all yours, but he'll be your toy."

Doreen moaned- her lips twitching into a cruel bratty smirk as long lashes batted lazily and she flexed her bitchy claws. Yes. Yessss. That sounded so fucking hot.

No... no! She loved Bobby. She... she... she no... she DESPISED Bobby. He was a weak foolish BOY. A pathetic fucking loser who had dared to ignore her. Now she would ruin him. Turn him into a fucking beta simp.

"Noooooo..." groaned Doreen trying to fight the feeling as her face became even sexier and a new toxic brat was born. She shuddered and then groaned, a grin appearing on her face. Mmmmh she felt goooood. Why was she fighting this?

Her hips cracked out and her waist crunched in. Yesssss now she had a body men would die for and girls would envy. She was fucking toxic and she LOVED it.

"Doreen... no! What is she doing to you?" suddenly cried a voice and and Bobby rushed over in horror.

Doreen gasped... her innocent personality fighting back control as her crush spoke. Bobby, he really did care for her!

"Mmmmh Bobby, I feel so fucking evil and hot. Please help me," groaned Doreen as she tilted her head and looked at him hungrily. "I drank a whole glass of toxic femininity and look what it did to me!"

"No Doreen, you're my friend. Don't let Melissa turn you into a slut!" he gasped realising his evil step mom must be responsible.

"Look at her Bobby. Isn't she better now? Look how fucking hot and slutty she is," purred Melissa. Bobby found his eyes drinking in Doreen. Fuck... she DID look pretty hot.

Seeing his hungry eyes on her Doreen shuddered in pleasure. "Mmmmh you've never looked at me like that before. Do you like my new body... baby?"

Bobby felt his dick get hard. There was something so primal and evil about this bitch in front of him.

Doreen stretched and giggled. Her eyes dropped to his crotch and she saw his swelling erection. "Yessss,I think you do and with this body I can finally make you want me."

Doreen felt her evil new personality growing stronger. She allowed it to take control. This way she could finally have what she wanted.

"Yessss with this body I can finally be a bitch. I can have whatever I want. I can be a Goddess."

Melissa laughed as she saw Doreen begin to embrace her corruption.

Doreen's posture changed and became over the top feminine. She now moved like a brat, all confidence and chest pushed out.

"Oh Bobby. You fucking loser. I'm hot now and I like it. All these years I've been in your shadow - but now I will be the hot popular one and you will be a fucking nobody. I'll destroy your reputation at school and make everyone turn against you."

"Doreen, no!" he gasped in horror.

"Mmmh Doreen is dead you fool. I am Demi now loser."

Demi threw back her had and laughed. She felt good, she felt POWERFUL. She could see how hard Bobby was for her. She was HUNGRY.

"Yes. I'm a bitch a fucking bitch and I LOVE how it feels. You're going to love it too."

Giggling Demi's agile hands went to his belt and in seconds his pants were round his ankles, his cock jutting out.

Sliding her perfect manicured hands around his cock - Demi began to pump and jerk his dick making Bobby groan in uncontrollable pleasure.

She looked at Bobby with her hot dark eyes, nothing but cruelty and wickedness radiating out. "Mmmmh you're nothing compared to me Bobby. A pathetic white boy loser who jerks off to girls like me. You're sooooo pathetic. Say it and I'll suck your dick."

"N... noooo," he gasped in horror. Yet he had never been harder.

"Ohhh yes loser. It may not be true yet, but it will be. Bit by bit your reputation will be destroyed. Girls are gonna ignore you and make you their bitch. You will end up just as sad and pathetic as I want."

She felt Bobby's dick twitch in her hands. "Fucking say it. Say I'm pathetic."

"I'm... I'm pathetic..." he groaned.

Demi smiled happily. Being a bitch felt amazing. Sinking to her knees she sank her soft pink lips round his big dick and began to suck.

Melissa watched with glee. Demi's body was still awash with toxic feminine energy. Energy that was truly toxic to men. As she sucked and slurped on Bobby's cock, that energy flowed into his body.

Muscles wasted away, his skin became pale and his once magnificent cock began to shrivel and shrink.

*glug glug glug*

"I'm pathetic, I'm pathetic," groaned Bobby as he shuddered in pleasure and Demi's toxic energies ruined his body.

He was now smaller, weaker, less masculine. The last of Demi's extra energy discharged into him - completing the drain. She was now fully grounded and would safely be able to suck dick and fuck men. Just not THIS loser.

Demi could barely fit Bobby's pathetic cock in her mouth now. It was like a tiny popsicle between her sucking lips and laughing she withdrew, giving it a dismissive flick.

"Oh Bobby. You're so tiny. I can't believe I ever had a crush on you. Pathetic."

Leaving him unsatisfied she stood up. "You belong in a cage. You stupid little bitch."

Tossing her hair back, Demi slid a pair of designer sunglasses on and with a feral grin walked off to find a real man.

She looked back at the desperate weak little simp behind her and laughed. "I'll send you some pics later of me sucking a REAL cock for you to jerk off too. You little sissy cuck bitch."

Melissa grinned excitedly. Her plan had worked better than she could have imagined! Demi was now an evil slut and her step-son a weak pathetic loser.

She could feel her perfect future becoming real.

*****

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Rubbing the growing swell of her pregnant belly, Melissa gloated.

It made her feel like a Goddess to pull the strings of fate and make everyone dance to her tune like puppets. Everything was happening as she had planned.

Jason had been crushed by the change in his son. The once successful outgoing Bobby had become the introverted and slimy Bob - a useless incel who prefered to smoke weed and goon to hot girls online.

Seeing his legacy crumble he had reversed his vasectomy and after many hot nights of sex had finally pumped his seed into Melissa and made her pregnant.

Jason wanted it to be a girl - he was done with boys. Melissa knew there would be no problem with that. The vial of toxic femininity she had drunk the same night she conceived would see to that.

Her daughter would grow up to be even more evil and toxic than she was. It made even Melissa a little afraid to imagine how cruel, mean and dominant her daughter would be. Her command of magic would make Melissa look like an amateur, her ability to bend minds, control others and corrupt the world unparalleled.

She had already begun to think of names. She quite liked.... Evie.

Meanwhile Demi had taken to bitchdom like a duck to water. She was already a heart breaking mean bitch with no morals. Melissa knew that one day she would be such a good role model for her daughter.

Demi was already the most fashionable girl at college and was now leader of a whole clique of bitches.

Melissa had scryed the strands of fate and was amused by how many lives she had ruined by unleashing Demi on the world.

Bobby of course, and arguably Jason. That was only the start of it though. In years to come Demi would bully and homewreck so many lives and never pay any consequences.

She would end up rich, happy and smug. A beautiful bitch with everything she ever wanted. She would definitely enjoy the era of the dark matriarchy - in many ways she was a herald of the future.

A perfect future.

THE END

[misseviehyde]

FINDING THE MEAN

Laura had never found the social aspects of school easy, but she at least always had the protection of her favourite teacher Ms Bloom.

Ms Bloom taught Math and she was everything Laura aspired to be. Clever, kind and friendly - the inspirational teacher had taken Laura under her wing and helped her survive against the bullies and mean girls that seemed to thrive in the school.

She had taken to giving Laura additional Math lessons in advanced concepts and the two of them would spend many hours after school solving equations, discussing problems and hanging out together.

Laura had realised that Ms Bloom was mentoring her and she felt her confidence and her ambitions begin to grow and swell. One day she would get out of this small town and go on to be successful - she would owe much of that success to her mentor.

One night after school Laura and Ms Bloom were pouring over a very strange equation that no one had ever solved.

Hyde's Divergent Mean was a curiosity that went back nearly a hundred years. No one had ever been able to balance the equation which appeared to be an attempt to work out the average amount of evil and toxicity in any given population.

"How about we apply it to the school?" asked Laura excitedly and the two of them began to work on balancing the numbers.

Ms Bloom sighed, "See - there's a missing component and no one has ever been able to work it out. The value of X remains unknown."

Laura frowned as she examined the equation. It was central to everything, it was almost as if the entire formula was more than math - like it was some sort of arcane formula. Perhaps it wasn't designed to work out the amount of evil in a population, but instead to harness and drain that toxicity and do something with it.

"Miss - have you ever thought X is meant to represent a person, not a number?"

Ms Bloom's eyes widened in amazement, "Why yes - that's incredible. I wonder what would happen if I put my name down as X and complete the formula."

"Wait!" gasped Laura, but she was too slow to stop her enthusiastic teacher who had written down 'Ms Isabella Bloom' next to X.

The formula suddenly blazed with pink light and Laura gasped and stepped back. Ms Bloom gasped and tried to stand back too, but she was yanked forward by an invisible force then lifted screaming into the air.

The teacher now levitated in the air surrounded by a sinister pink light. Laura gasped and tried to rush forward to help, but she was repelled by an invisible force.

On the board, the formula began to change. The name in the middle began to alter. "Ms Isablla Bloom" began to warp and alter to become "Bella Bloom."

The teachers eyes burned with pink fire and she gasped in amazement.

"Ohhhh fuck yes! I can see it all now, I can see how all the popular girls are connected - how they and their victims fit into this school. It's all so fucking OBVIOUS!"

She giggled, a strange sound coming from her usually sensible mouth. Her kind lips twisted into an uncharacteristically malicious smile as she stretched her floating body luxuriously and wiggled her fingers.

"Mmmmmh, I see how to get everything I always wanted. I can be reborn thanks to the equation, I can take the toxic femininity from those fucking losers and make myself queen bitch. No more being some sad-sac teacher, instead I can be a fucking princess!"

"Noooooo," gasped Laura. "Ms Bloom, you have to stop this, the formula is corrupting you. The equation is making you mean."

"Hahah shut up you pathetic loser, you have no idea how GOOD this feels. Ms Bloom is dead - I am BELLA BLOOM."

Throwing back her head, Ms Bloom moaned in ecstasy and splayed her fingers out. Long sharp gel nails shot from each finger as her bones cracked and her body shrunk in on itself.

Her skin became younger looking and her warm brown hair began to turn bright bitchy blonde. Ms Bloom's kind eyes turned a cold blue and her face became more beautiful, but mean and spoiled.

Her clothing shrunk to fit her now tiny frame, a tight red crop top and daisy dukes leaving little to the imagination as she floated down and landed on the ground with a clop of expensive high heels.

"Like, this is sooooo much better," giggled Bella as she arranged her hair and admired her nails. "Being a fucking thirty six year old teacher was sooooo boring. What a loser. I'd rather be an eighteen year old bitch any day."

Laura was shaking her head in horror as Bella strutted over to the whiteboard and laughed at the formula. It had taken the two of them hours to complete the formula and Laura wasn't sure she could even do it on her own.

A hand shot out and grabbed her hair and she screamed as Bella cruelly pulled her over and smashed her up against the board. Laughing, the new bully used Laura's hair to wipe the board - destroying the delicate formula and making sure that no one could ever copy the work and reverse the transformation, or ascend themselves.

"Like, that's better. Now I can't change back. You're the only one who remembers the old me anyway, the equation has altered reality and everyone else's memories of me. As far as the school is concerned, there never was an Isabella Bloom - only the Head Cheerleader and richest brat in town, Bella Bloom existed."

Releasing Laura's hair, Bella threw her to the floor and looked down with contempt.

"Fucking pathetic. You're so fucking pathetic and weak. You better stay out of my way loser, you don't form part of my equations at the moment - but that could change."

Laura sobbed as she watched her once favourite teacher striding off to start her new life as a bully and a mean girl. Bella would soon have all the big cock, money and riches she could ever want.

As for Laura, without her mentor and her inspiration - she would lapse into despair and any chance for a bright future she had would decay to nothing.

Ms Bloom had found the mean and there was no going back for either of them.

THE END

[corruptedcaps]

Eco Warrior

I can't believe the nerve of those corporate jerks! All we were doing was peacefully protesting their evil company and they threw this gross sticky chemical stuff all over me! I should wash it off but I need the evidence for when I go to the cops tomorrow. It's infuriating how they think they can just silence us like that. But you know what? This won't stop me. I'll fight even harder now. We're in this together, and we're going to make sure they're held accountable for the damage they've done to people and the environment.

Change of plans with going to the cops, I woke up to find the chemicals had soaked into my skin. They haven’t left any evidence in me. I guess I should be thankfully. Although I think they may have contributed to this tan I have now. But that's not the point right now. I need to focus on getting to the new protest today. We can't let their tactics deter us. We have to keep standing up against their injustices and fighting for what's right. Let's get out there and make our voices heard again.

You won't believe how well the protest went today. Our voices were louder than ever, and it felt like a turning point. But here's the craziest part – those corporate guys actually came over to apologize for splashing me with chemicals! Can you believe that? They said it was a mistake and that they want to make amends. They even offered me a role as a protest liaison within their company. It's wild, right? I'm torn though. Part of me wants to take the chance to make change from the inside, but another part worries it might just be a ploy. What do you think babe?

So, I just got back from my first day as a protest liaison, and I'm kind of surprised. The corporation is actually really nice, and they went out of their way to make me feel welcome. They even gave me a bunch of free makeup, creams, and lotions to try, as a way to show their products aren't harmful. I've already put some on, and I have to admit, they feel pretty good. They make my body tingle all over, especially my boobs. Bigger? No I don’t so. It's probably just the outfit I'm wearing today. I think you just like what you see, mmmm come closer baby.

It's frustrating to deal with some of my protestor friends calling me a scab and a corporate shill just because I'm working with the corporation now. I have no sympathy for their attitude. If they can't see that I'm trying to make a positive change from within, then that's their problem. Honestly, it feels like jealousy more than anything. I mean, the corporation even gave me a raise already and has let me use all their products for free. That must mean I'm doing something they value. Plus I’m sure it doesn’t help that I look so much better then them now as well. The company’s products really are like magic. Mmmm all this talk of how good I look I’d getting me in the mood, take off your pants.

Like my new car? My company bought it for me for doing such a good job. Protest liaison? No they’ve moved me into marketing and sales where I’m excelling. It helps that I’m a walking billboard for them. As for the protest, honestly, I don't really care about it anymore. Things change, priorities shift. This is where I am now, and I've got better things to focus on than those who still think shouting on the streets will make a difference. It's all about playing the game right, and clearly, I'm winning. So, if you'll excuse me, I've got more important matters to attend to than the past.

Ugh, those protestors are getting on my nerves. Yesterday, they nearly ruined my new fur coat as I was walking into work. Can you believe their audacity? Pathetic losers, the lot of them. I need to find some muscle to deal with them, get them out of my way once and for all. It's like they're stuck in a never-ending cycle of futile resistance. Well, I won't let them stand in my way or mess with what I've built. I am vice president now after all, I deserve respect. Time to take control and show them the real power of influence.

Oh, look at you now. Splashing you with those chemicals did wonders, didn't it? Just like they did to me. Of course at first I had no idea the chemicals were changing me into the mega bitch you see before you but once I realized what my companies products were doing to me I could get enough. It’s so hawt to see the concentrated formula change you so quickly. You've become quite the imposing figure, muscular and mean. It's good to see loyalty in action. From now on, you're my enforcer. Those protestors won't stand a chance with you by my side. Let's make sure they understand that challenging me comes at a price. Together, we'll show them what happens when they fuck with me.

You know what? It turns out, it was a much better plan to turn those protestors into my new executive board. All it took was a little splash of those chemicals, and their loyalty was sealed. With them backing me, it was easy to ascended to the position of CEO. Funny how things work out, isn't it? They thought they were fighting against me, but now they're working for me. It's a powerful reminder that sometimes, the best way to bring about change is from the inside. And now, I've got the influence and control I've always wanted. Make less products? No dear we’re doubling our output now, I want an army.

[misseviehyde]

OMG - this is so hotttt! I love an evil transformation and the pics are perfect. You've outdone yourself babe.

[misseviehyde]

SELFGRADING

Linda hadn't been sure about the remote body at first. It seemed like something crazy out of a science fiction film - but her daughter had insisted it was safe and in the end she'd decided to try it.

Her youngest - Tina - had married a rich entrepreneur with an interest in cutting edge technology and the happy couple had moved to a highly inaccessible location in the mountains in order to carry out his research. Patrick had built a bespoke laboratory mansion complex in order to test drive his new technology and unfortunately the nearest airport was nearly a days drive away.

As it would now take Linda so long to be actually able to see her daughter, Patrick had suggested that she try out his technology. It would both help his research and also allow her to be with them in person whenever they liked.

Patrick was developing a remote controlled body he called an I-Clone - a living synthetically grown flesh body that a person could transfer their consciousness into and pilot and control like they were in their own. There were some ethical issues to work out with the bodies - but they were effectively empty vessels waiting to be filled with a consciousness.

Using her own DNA, Patrick had grown Linda an identical clone body to her own which would be kept in a suspension tank when not being used. Now all she had to do was use transfer her consciousness to it when she wanted to spend time with her daughter.

Linda was nervous the first time she attached the electrodes to her temples and initiated the transfer process. She'd hooked her own body up to the IV and life support machine that Patrick had provided so it wouldn't become damaged during her transfer. She also had a nurse checking in on her daily. Even so, leaving your body for another one was quite nerve-wracking.

She felt herself losing consciousness in her own location as her thoughts, memory and personality were digitised and sent whirling through the internet.

When she opened her eyes a few minutes later and slowly rose out of her suspension tank - taking her first breath in her new body - she couldn't believe it had worked.

Tina and Patrick were delighted. Patrick in particular was super proud of his new invention and he knew that his I-clones were going to change history. The rich and powerful would pay well to have multiple bodies and the ability to instantaneously travel around the world to a new body whenever they liked.

They ate dinner together, and Linda was amazed at how identical her new body felt. It was just like she was in her normal self - everything was exactly the same as usual. She spent two days with the couple, hiking, eating, exercising and having a good time.

On the final night before transferring back to her own body, Tina had gone to bed and Patrick and she were chatting about the weekend.

"It's just a shame my body is identical to my real one, I could barely keep up with you and Tina on that hike," smiled Linda.

"Hah, you kept up fine - though of course if you wanted I suppose I could alter your iclone to make it fitter," mused Patrick innocently.

"Oh... really?" asked Linda, suddenly intrigued. "You could make me fitter? Younger maybe?"

"Welllll, I guess the iclone can be adjusted in it's suspension tanks. If I took off the safety protocol, you could modify this body however you like."

Linda grinned, "Show me."

Patrick looked at her hesistantly. "I... errrr. I probably shouldn't. It was just a stupid dumb idea."

"Oh please Patrick, I promise I won't tell Tina. Just a few... little... changes."

"Well... I ummm guess a couple of small changes can't hurt."

*********

Linda looked at herself in the mirror with a satisfied smirk. It had only taken a few hours in the suspension tank and her clone body had been altered exactly as she'd requested.

Jumping back inside she could already feel the difference. She felt younger, her skin tighter and smoother. Her graying hair was now jet black and thicker. Her smile was brighter, her aches and pains now gone. She looked half the age she had. She felt... horny.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the controls for the suspension tank.

She'd watched Patrick carefully to see how he adjusted the clone body. She'd even seen him key in the password; Tina's birthday. Now she was curious about how it all worked.

"Oh, that's an experimental feature. It's a personality filter. When you upload a consciousness to the clone, it's possible to set conditions so only certain mental attributes pass over. Technically you could leave all the parts of yourself you don't like - piloting your old body. It's pretty dangerous though so I haven't activated it."

Linda smiled. "Why don't we try it next time? There are a few things about myself I wouldn't mind leaving behind."

"Linda... are you nuts? It's bad enough that I've changed you to be younger. You don't look much older than Tina now. She's going to freak when she sees your modified body. If I start messing with your mind, who knows where it could end up?"

Linda swayed over to him. "Patrick, don't be such a pussy. I love how this new body feels and I want to help you with your experiments. I've always wanted to be more confident... more assertive. I was thinking about using the filter to block out some of my more useless inhibitions. Tina won't object, after all - she'll never find out. What's the worst that could happen?"

Patrick looked at her helplessly - unable to argue as she guided his hands to the controls and he keyed in the override. It was time to program the filter...

**********

Linda was so excited as she activated the transfer process and lay back. It felt... different... this time. Last time it had just felt like falling asleep and waking up again as her. This time it felt better and more exciting - though she knew that was because of the filters she had programmed into the transfer process.

Her better body was waiting for her, but this time not all of her personality would transfer. The filter was going to strip out her inhibitions - all the things that held her back. She'd still be her - only she'd be a BETTER her.

Linda moaned as she flowed through the internet and parts of her were left behind. Patrick reckoned that if she filtered enough of her personality - what would be left would even be able to operate her body. The thought was intriguing.

With a gasp she found herself in her new, younger clone body. Patrick was waiting nearby with concern on his face.

"Linda... how... how do you feel?"

"I FEEL GREAT!" laughed Linda, leaping to her feet. Her improved body felt amazing but now so too did her personality. She felt hornier, more assertive, brimming with confidence and a desire to take what she wanted and not be held back.

She looked over at Patrick.

"Mmmmmh, now I have a personality to match my new body. I'm a confident, sensual, assertive woman now. It's like I can think clearly Patrick. This technology you have created will make you so rich. You just need the right guidance to help realise the full potential."

Turning to the console she activated it and entering the password began to program.

"Hey, how do you know my password? What are you doing?"

Linda ignored Patrick. She had a taste for the power of her clone-body now and she wanted more. A wicked smile on her face she began to program a new body - an even better body.

She set up the filter to strip away even more of her goody-goody personality whilst she worked on the body. Bigger tits, sexier hair - a sluttier face. She felt wet at the thought of how hot she could make her clone-self using this techology.

"Linda! What are you doing? Stop it - those changes are obscene. You can't make your tits that big!"

Linda laughed. "Yes I can, and you're going to help me. I'm going to climb inside and I want you to activate the machine and help me get even sexier. I want to become even hotter Patrick. I'm going to jump back into my old body and when I swap back, I'm going to be a Goddess."

"No Linda, this is wrong."

Linda grinned and walking over, she grabbed Patrick's crotch and squeezed enticingly. "What's wrong is not using this delicious power to make ourselves hot. You can use the same power Patrick. Upgrade your body, give yourself a big dick and a better body. You have no idea how good this feels."

Sinking to her knees, Linda giggled as she unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. "Not that you need it. This is a nice cock. But think how hot it would be if I was an even bigger slut sucking it."

Patrick groaned as his horny mother-in-law engulfed his dick in her younger mouth and began to suck. She expertly played with his balls, sucking and slurping till with a shuddering gasp he began to cum.

"Mmmmmh, this is only the start baby - just you wait and see what's next."

Patrick just groaned feebly, he was hers now and he knew it.

*******

Linda screamed in ecstasy as she felt the transfer process activate and her mind was split apart. All the parts of herself that she was most coming to enjoy - the evil, bitchy, dominant parts was transported to her new waiting body.

The rest - the guilt... the insecurity, the feeble love for others was left in her old body.

New Linda felt herself filling her waiting body up. It's modifications in the tank were complete - modifications she had carefully specified.

"Mmmmmmh fuck yesssss", she hissed as she wiggled her manicured fingers and slowly sat up. Her hair was now a glossy black wave and her huge tits hung on her chest.

Linda reached down to touch her waxed pussy - it was tighter and more sensitive... ready for big cock. She laughed as she hefted her massive new tits and sliding out of the tank stood naked and unashamed. She was taller, fitter, stronger and sexier now. Her clone body had curves in ALL the right places.

"Oh my God," whimpered Patrick as he saw the naked Goddess in front of him.

"Mmmmmh, I told you that you'd like my body. Come here and fuck me." She bent over the tank enticingly, her large ass now in the air as she wiggled it for him and sighed in horny frustration.

"My daughter is nothing compared to me now. Come fuck a real woman."

Patrick knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself as he slid his dick inside his Mother-in-law. Her pussy gripped his cock so tight and he groaned in ecstasy as he fucked her - her big tits in his hands as he pounded her doggy.

"Yes Patrick - fuck meeee. I'm such a bitch. Fuck me harder. Take me!"

"Ohhhh Linda, you're so tight... ohhh fuck..."

"Mmmmh, don't call me Linda anymore. From now on I am Lia. I want to be even more evil Patrick. I'm going to use your machine to make myself even hotter and more evil. I want to be a fucking Dark Goddess. Now cum inside me, you're mine now and Tina is nothing."

Patrick screamed her name as he began to cum.

He belonged to Goddess Lia now.

*****

Rising up out of her suspension tank - Goddess Lia sighed in satisfaction as she reviewed the latest changes. Bigger tits and doll-like features were definitely the way to go. Her clone body became better and sluttier with each adjustment. She loved corrupting herself.

In the tank next to her Patrick's clone body was also transforming. She'd helped him select the body she preferred... black, muscled, big cocked. Soon Patrick would cease to exist and her lover Ricky would be by her side... permanently.

Patrick had explained how the clone bodies were immortal. He'd still had some moral objections to her plans, till she'd forced him to swap into his new form and used the mind filter to strip him of all his morality too.

Now he was just as evil as she was and seemed to enjoy it too. Of course, she'd made sure that she would always be the most powerful of the two of them - ensuring that his lust for her would keep him under control.

Dressed in maid's outfits, both Tina, Patrick and her old body were now pathetically scrubbing the floor. It amused Lia to see how weak and fragile her old self was. She loved to see the parts of her personality she had rid herself now trapped forever in a decaying form. Her new body was SO much better,

With a hiss the tank next to her also began to open. Goddess Lia smiled as her lover emerged, his big dick already hard for her.

She moaned as he slid his cock deep inside and they began to fuck in front of their lessers. Self-improvement really was so fucking hot.

[amiee-bee]

Influenced

Jordyn Jones was an influencer, just not the regular kind. Her ViewTube channel had a couple of million subscribers who all attentively tuned into her vlogs, discussing social issues and educating people on the unethical conduct of various corporations.

Her most recent exposé of the questionable business practices of a number of Hyde inc's major subsidiaries had really catapulted her into the public eye and gained her a lot of new followers.

Hyde inc's board of directors were incensed by the negative publicity their companies were receiving and decided to do something about this annoying pest who thought she could take them on.

Owning a controlling stock in ViewTube itself, they had their PR team sent Jordyn an invite for a tour of their offices to receive an award for her channel's recent success.

The ruse was a success and as Jordyn sat down, excited to watch the "special presentation" that ViewTube had prepared for her she didn't even notice the drugs that had been slipped into her water.

As soon as she was out a set of headphones were placed in her ears, whispering instructions to their highly susceptible wearer as a team of people swarmed into the room and began working on the unconscious Jordyn. Injecting her with collagen fillers and Botox, covering her skin in fake tan and sticking long acrylic nails to her fingers. They completely transformed the young influencer so that when she left the building Jordyn was nothing like the girl that she had been when she entered.

When she left the building Jordyn was every inch the stereotype of an influencer, dressed head to toe in the latest fashions, flawless make-up, manicured nails and perfectly styled blonde hair. She looked like everything she had once railed against, but what's more she now thought like it too. The intense brainwashing she had undergone had rewritten the former activist into a vapid, self-obsessed narcissist who wouldn't think twice about selling out her own family for a brand deal.

The next day she posted a new video on her channel. The thumbnail looked just like one of her other videos, but as her fans clicked onto the video they were greeted with the face of the new and improved Jordyn.

As she walked them through her newest clothing haul the viewers couldn't look away as they were bombarded with subliminal messages burrowing into their minds telling them that not only was this the same Jordyn that they had always watched and enjoyed, but she was their absolute favourite ViewTuber. Girls everywhere realised they wanted to be just like her. In fact they would do ANYTHING to imitate their new favourite star.

Obsessed with their new idol they clicked through her previous videos, which had all been replaced by make-up tutorials, clothing hauls and try on video's, all laced with subliminals and featuring heavy product placement for Hyde Inc's various subsidiaries.

She also continued with her vlogs, but now she dressed in Lingerie and educated her followers on techniques for manipulating men into doing anything you wanted. She endorsed Findom, Cuckolding and practically anything that could turn a man into a walking ATM. She was turning her followers into a legion of gold diggers that would never be short of money to spend on Hyde Inc's products.

Orders of Hyde Inc's brands of clothing and cosmetics soared as Jordyn's army of followers swarmed to remake themselves in her image. She happily shilled whatever Hyde Inc asked of her, never stopping to ask any annoying ethical questions. She didn't care about that, she only cared about the money that was pouring into her bank account making her rich beyond her wildest dreams.

[misseviehyde]

There's a reason Amiee is one of my favourite writers. This story bangs hard - love it! ❤️

[talesofcorruption]

The new power.

In the quiet offices of Millcroft Solutions, Vicky Kensington and Maddie Masters were the heart of the place. Mid-twenties, inseparable since college, they now worked side by side in the same department. They’d been best friends through every late-night study session, every bad breakup, every small victory. Vicky; messy brown hair, glasses always slipping down her nose, comfy cardigans over blouses and sensible slacks, was shy, sweet, the first to offer coffee, tea or a listening ear. 

Maddie; shoulder-length blonde hair, bright smile, jeans and soft sweaters, was her bold counterpart, quick with encouragement and always ready to rally the team for a charity drive or eco-meeting.

“Morning, Maddie.“ Vicky said softly one Monday, setting a steaming herbal tea on Maddie’s desk. “Brought your favorite. How was your weekend?”

Maddie beamed, pulling her into a quick hug. “Perfect, because I spent half of it texting you about that new animal shelter fundraiser. You’re the best, Vicky. Seriously, how do you always know exactly what I need?”

Vicky blushed, pushing her glasses up. “Just trying to make the day a little brighter. We’re in this together, right? Saving the planet, helping people… one spreadsheet at a time.”

They laughed, their shared passions for charity, animal welfare, and fighting pollution making the daily grind feel meaningful.

When the firm was bought by an anonymous investment group, everyone worried. What would change? Would jobs survive? Maddie and Vicky were in it together, if one had to quit, both would. They had promised each other that long ago. Old Mr. Watkins, their kindly but ineffective boss, had retired and sold the company. The new owners didn’t appear in person, only sent memos.

Then the memo arrived: Vicky Kensington was promoted to Managing Director.

The office erupted in cheers.

“Vicky! You deserve this!” Maddie squealed, hugging her tight. “You’re going to be amazing. Kind, fair, inspiring, everything Mr. Watkins wasn’t. This is so great! I’m so happy for you!”

Vicky fidgeted, cheeks pink. “I… I don’t know, Maddie. I’m not sure I’m boss material. I just want to help people and do my job in peace, not order my friends and coworkers around.”

But the week flew by beautifully. With Maddie’s help, Vicky organized team quizzes, brought in homemade cookies, started a “Kindness Corner” bulletin board for shout-outs. Productivity dipped a little, much more laughter, fewer stressed faces, but everyone loved coming to work. Maddie helped plan a “Green Office Challenge,” planting desk succulents and tracking recycling.

Then one Friday afternoon, a sleek black car pulled up outside. Two figures stepped out: a handsome man in his early 40s; tall, brown hair slicked back, dark leather suit, sharp smile, and a strict, stunning woman in her early 30s, black leather skirt, blue leather blouse with deep cleavage, blonde hair in a severe ponytail. 

They requested Vicky immediately.

In the conference room, Vicky sat nervously, hands clasped. “I… I hope everything’s okay. I know efficiency has dipped a little, but the team’s been really happy this week. We’re trying our best and… I believe a happy workplace makes better staff.”

The man, Mr. Hale, leaned forward. “You’re doing wonderfully, Vicky. But yes, results aren’t quite what we hoped for. We think you’re tense and just need to unwind. So we have a gift for you, we believe it will help you lead this place better. A weekend spa retreat, fully paid. You’ll return Monday refreshed, ready to lead.”

The woman, Ms. Voss, smiled coolly. “It’s the best package. You’ll feel like a new woman. Go now. We’ve arranged everything. Relax and return as a true leader.”

Vicky blinked. “But… Maddie and I had plans this weekend and…”

“Plans can wait.” Mr. Hale said smoothly. “This is for your career. And ours.”

Vicky hesitated, something felt off about their smiles, but she nodded shyly. “Okay… thank you. I’ll go, of course. Thank you so much. I won’t disappoint you.”

After the meeting she texted Maddie quickly:

“Hey, these weird new owners surprised me with a meeting and gave me a spa weekend to “help me stress down.” They think it’ll make me a better boss or something. I’m very sorry but have to cancel our plans on Saturday. Talk Monday?“

Maddie replied instantly:

“OMG lucky you! Relax and enjoy, boss lady! Miss you already.“

The spa was pure luxury, marble floors, soft music, scented candles. The staff greeted her warmly. “Ms. Kensington, Mr. Hale and Ms. Voss have booked our Platinum Retreat just for you. Right this way.”

Massages, facials, hot stones, Vicky relaxed, feeling pampered. She felt out of place, undeserving of such extravagance, and wished Maddie could be there with her. But she didn’t want to seem ungrateful and wanted to please Mr. Hale and Ms. Voss, so she agreed to whatever the package included.

Then the attendant led her to a large black tanning booth. Something felt off about it, too sleek, too ominous. “The final touch.” the woman said with a smile Vicky couldn’t quite trust. “You’ll glow. You’ll arise as a whole new person.”

Vicky laughed nervously. “I don’t tan. I burn. I’m not sure this is for me, how about we try something else?”

“It’s special, low UV, very relaxing. Trust me. This will do wonders for you.”

Vicky didn’t want to, but she was never good at saying no. Afraid to seem ungrateful, she stepped inside. The door closed with a soft click.

Warm light bathed her. She closed her eyes, sighing. Then strange thoughts crept in.

”You’re too soft. Too nice. Too polite. They walk all over you.”

Vicky’s eyes snapped open. “What…? Where did that thought come from?”

“Boss them. Humiliate them. Make them beg.“

Heat bloomed between her legs. “No… that’s not me. I’m kind. I help people. Why am I thinking this?!”

“Kindness is weakness. Power is everything. Imagine your staff kneeling. Your staff crying. You laughing.“

Her nipples hardened. Her hand drifted between her legs, she couldn’t help it. She realized what she was doing and tried to stop. “Stop… I need to stop… I love my friends. I love helping… I want to treat my staff with respect…”

”Fuck love. Fuck helping. Fuck respect. They should respect YOU. Fuck them all. You’re superior.“

She moaned, fingers circling her clit. Visions flooded her: bossing her staff around, making them do humiliating things for her amusement, watching them suffer while she laughed. It made her so horny.

“They’re beneath you. Break them. Own them. Cum for the cruelty.“

Vicky kept fantasizing. She liked this new feeling, getting aroused imagining her staff working like dogs while she lorded over them, loved watching them suffer. Then suddenly her hips bucked. “What… what is happening? Why am I thinking like this? I can’t… I’m Vicky. I’m good… I must stop… but… oh fuck, it feels so good…”

“Destroy Vicky, Become Victoria. Queen. Goddess. Scream it.“

Vicky loved the feeling, she’d never been this horny. It felt so wrong, but that only turned her on more. She tried to snap out of it, to resist. She fought, thinking of her coworkers, of her best friend Maddie, tears streaming. “Please… I don’t want this… I love my life… I love kindness… what the hell is happening?! What kind of place is this?! What are you doing to me?! And why… why… why does it feel so fucking good?!”

“Vicky was weak. Victoria is superior! Embrace it! Embrace your new self! Destroy the weakness in you!“

The light intensified. Pleasure surged.

Vicky tried to resist, she’d never felt anything like this. She was so horny, she needed to cum, but she also needed to resist this evil. 

One final plea: “No… I won’t… I’m not evil…”

Then the orgasm hit, violent, shattering. Vicky’s eyes rolled back. When they opened again, they were ice-cold and bitchy. Vicky was gone. Victoria had arrived.

“FUCK YES! I’M VICTORIA! I’M CRUEL! I’M SUPERIOR! I’M A RUTHLESS FUCKING BITCH AND I LOVE IT!”

Her body convulsed. Brown hair darkened to jet black, pulling into a strict high ponytail. Glasses vanished. Comfy clothes melted into a black and red latex blazer with a plunging neckline, massive cleavage, short black latex skirt, thigh-high black latex boots, flawless make-up.

“Victoria Kensington is here, bitches. And this office? It’s mine, all mine now. And I have so many naughty, delicious ideas. Those pathetic workers will bow to their new queen.”

Monday morning, the staff arrived to a transformed space: glass walls etched with “Kensington Compliance Group,” desks in strict rows, cameras everywhere. Victoria strode in, latex gleaming, heels clicking, whip tapping her thigh.

“Good morning, worms.“ she purred arrogantly. “New rules: 12-hour days minimum. No sick days. No vacations without my approval. Dress code for women; skirts above the knee, heels, leather, blouses that show cleavage. Men; suits, ties, grovel when I enter.”

The staff stared, horrified.

“But… what happened to Vicky?” someone whispered.

Victoria laughed, cruel, mocking. “Vicky’s dead, losers. I am Victoria Kensington, your boss and ruler. You will address me as Ms. Kensington or Mistress Victoria, or you will get fired, scum! And trust me, you’ll beg to stay and serve when I’m done with you.”

She pointed at a staff member. “You. On your knees. Crawl over here and kiss my boot. Thank me for the privilege. Refuse and you’re fired immediately, and I’ll cut your pay.”

The man trembled but obeyed. “Th-thank you, Mistress Victoria…”

She stepped on his hand lightly. “Louder, worm. And the rest of you, productivity quotas tripled. Fail, and I’ll humiliate you publicly and cut your pay. Succeed? Maybe I’ll let you breathe my air.”

Maddie was absent, she was home sick with a cold, not knowing what was happening. No one dared tell her yet.

Victoria lounged in her new top-floor suite, black velvet throne, chains on the walls, a locked “meeting room” for “special consultations.” She scrolled client lists, smirking at the shady new contracts, offshore shells, crypto fronts, porn studios needing “compliance cover.”

“Fuck charity.“ she hissed. “Fuck hope. Fuck the staff. I’m rich. I’m powerful. I’m cruel. I’m fucking perfect! And this place? It’s my queendom now.”

She cracked her whip. “Mr. Watkins was useless. I’m Victoria Kensington. And you all belong to me.”

The staff worked in terrified silence. Productivity soared, fear did that. Victoria watched from her glass perch, fingering her whip handle, wet with anticipation.

Maddie would be back soon.

And Victoria couldn’t wait to break her former best friend.

She smiled, evil, satisfied, aroused.

“This is just the beginning, bitches. All hail the new boss bitch.”

*****

A week later Maddie walked into the office Monday morning with a bounce in her step, thermos of herbal tea in one hand and a bag of homemade granola bars in the other. She’d been out sick all last week with a nasty cold, but the rest had done wonders. “Can’t wait to see how Vicky’s handling boss life.“ she said to herself, smiling. “She’s probably already got everyone doing yoga breaks or something adorable.”

She pushed open the glass doors of Kensington Compliance Group and froze. The lobby looked wrong, cold, expensive, intimidating. Warm beige walls were now matte black. The cozy reception desk had been replaced with a stark marble slab. Security cameras blinked from every corner. The staff moved like exhausted ghosts, heads down, eyes dull, typing furiously at desks in rigid rows. Security guards in black latex uniforms stood at attention, mirrored visors reflecting nothing.

Maddie’s smile faltered. “What the…?”

Then she saw her.

Striding across the floor in glossy black and red latex a blazer with a plunging neckline that barely contained her enhanced cleavage, short latex skirt hugging her hips, thigh-high boots clicking like gunshots, was a woman who looked like Vicky’s evil twin. Jet black hair pulled into a severe high ponytail. Flawless makeup, lips curled in an arrogant smirk. A whip coiled at her hip.

“Vicky?” Maddie whispered.

Victoria Kensington stopped, turned, and laughed, a low, cruel sound that made the nearest employee flinch. “Vicky? That pathetic little pushover is dead, Maddie. Call me Mistress Victoria. Or Miss Kensington if you’re feeling extra submissive today. Welcome back, worm.”

Maddie’s thermos slipped from her fingers, tea splashing across the floor. “No… what happened to you? The office… the people… this isn’t you!”

Victoria sauntered closer, heels echoing. “Oh, but it is. The spa was enlightening, by the way. I realized kindness is weakness. Charity is pathetic. And friends?” She leaned in, voice dripping venom. “Friends are just future slaves.”

Maddie shook her head, tears welling. “Vicky, please. Remember us? College? Saving the shelter? The planet? You were my best friend. You believed in good things.”

Victoria’s laugh was sharp. “Good things? Fuck good things. I believe in power. Money. Control. ME! And look at you, still clinging to that sad little hippie dream. You’re so fucking pathetic, Maddie. Always were. Always will be.”

Maddie’s voice cracked. “You’re not her. Vicky would never say that.”

Victoria grabbed Maddie’s chin, forcing her to look up. “Vicky’s gone, you pathetic little shit. Burned away in that tanning booth. And I’m what rose from the ashes. Superior. Cruel. Fucking perfect. Untouchable. Now get to work, or I’ll have you crawling on your knees by lunch.”

Maddie backed away, horrified. The staff avoided her eyes, too tired, too broken to speak. She fled to her desk, heart pounding. “This can’t be real. I have to save her. There has to be something left of Vicky…”

The next few days were hell.

Victoria ruled like a tyrant. She barked orders: “You, rewrite that report. Faster, bitch, or I’ll make you type it with your tongue.” “You, your skirt’s too long. Hem it up or get out.” Public humiliations were daily: a staff member forced to kneel and apologize for a typo while Victoria stepped on his hand. 

A woman denied vacation because “weakness isn’t tolerated.”

Maddie watched, sick to her stomach. 

She tried whispering to coworkers. “We have to do something. This isn’t right.”

They stared blankly. “She’s the boss. We can’t fight her. We need the job.”

Maddie dug deeper, late nights searching files. What she found made her blood run cold: forged compliance trails for offshore shells, backdated records for crypto scams, paperwork sanitizing porn studios’ “talent contracts.” Shady clients. Blackmail material. Victoria wasn’t just cruel, she was a evil criminal.

Friday, Victoria humiliated a intern in front of everyone: “You call that work? Strip to your underwear and scrub the floor. With your tongue. Now! Or you’re fired and I’ll make sure no one in this city hires your pathetic ass.”

The intern sobbed, obeyed. Maddie snapped.

She marched to Victoria’s office, slamming the door. “This ends now, Victoria, or whatever the fuck you call yourself. I know everything. The shady deals. The porn companies. The extortion. If you don’t stop, I’m going to the police.”

Victoria lounged on her black velvet throne, legs crossed, whip in hand. She threw back her head and laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the open floor. The staff outside froze, spines chilling.

“Oh, Maddie. Sweet, stupid, pathetic Maddie. You think you can threaten me?” She stood, circling Maddie like a predator. “You’re nothing. A sad little do-gooder who thinks kindness fixes everything. Vicky hated people like you deep down, weak, boring, useless. Now look at me. I’m superior. I’m powerful. I’m everything she was too scared to be.”

Maddie’s voice trembled. “There’s still good in you. I know it. Remember the shelter? The animals? Us?”

Victoria smirked, evil glint in her eyes. “Good? Fuck good. I have plans, Maddie. Big plans. And you’re in the way. But… I just came up with a better use for you.”

She snapped her fingers. Security, two massive brutes in black latex uniforms, appeared, grabbing Maddie’s arms.

“Let go! Vicky, please!”

Victoria leaned in, whispering hot against Maddie’s ear. “It’s Mistress Victoria. And you’re about to become so much more useful.”

They dragged her to a hidden room off the executive suite. Inside: a large black tanning booth, identical to the one that had broken Vicky.

Maddie struggled. “No! What is this?! You can’t do this! Let me go!”

Victoria opened the door, light humming inside. “Oh, listen to you, Maddie. So weak, so pathetic. But soon you’ll become something delicious. Get in, pet.”

Maddie fought, kicking. 

The brutes forced her inside. Door sealed.

Darkness. Warm light. Then the whispers began.

“You’re too weak. Too kind. Let go. Embrace power.“

Maddie pressed against the wall. “No… I will resist this. I’m Maddie. I help people. I will save my friend…”

“Friend? She’s superior. Perfect. You should kneel. Worship. Or… become like her.“

Heat surged between her legs. “Stop… I will never become like her. I won’t hurt anyone… I care about charity… animals… hope… Oh fuck, why does this feel so good…”

“Hope is pathetic. Power is true ambition. Imagine breaking others. Humiliating them. Cumming for their tears.“

Maddie moaned, thighs clenching. “No… I can fight this… I won’t… Oh fuck… why… why does that sound so… so… mmm, so delicious… NO! What’s happening to me?!”

Victoria’s voice echoed through speakers, seductive, cruel. “Give in, dear Maddie. Feel how fucking good it is. Be perfect like me. Be evil. Be superior. Imagine your staff crawling. Your enemies begging. Your pussy dripping for it.”

Maddie’s hand slipped between her legs. “I… can’t… I’m good… I’m kind… Mmmm, but having them crawl does sound so naughty and delicious, and why shouldn’t they fucking crawl before me?! No! I must resist this evil, I won’t let you turn me!”

“Kindness is fucking weakness. Cruelty is ecstasy. Cum for the darkness. Become your true self. Embrace true power!“

Maddie sobbed, fingers moving faster. “Please… stop… I don’t want this… I want to be good… I want to… Oh fuck… I… I can’t resist… this… Mmmm fuck yes… mmmm I feel so fucking evil and nasty… No! I have to… have to…”

Victoria laughed. “Vicky’s gone. And soon, you will be too, Maddie. Cum for me, pet. Cum for power. Embrace your true self!”

Maddie’s resistance shattered. Pleasure exploded, manic, evil joy ripping through her. “FUCK YES! I’M MADDISON! I’M CRUEL! I’M FUCKING SUPERIOR! I’M A RUTHLESS FUCKING BITCH AND I LOVE IT!”

Her body convulsed. Blonde hair lightened to platinum. Comfy clothes melted into a pink and black latex blazer, deep cleavage, high collar, black latex skirt, thigh-high black boots, flawlese make-up. She stepped out, smirking arrogantly.

Maddison Masters rose, eyes gleaming. 

“Like, oh my god… Maddie was such a fucking pathetic do-gooder. Thank you, Mistress Victoria. This gift is fucking perfect.”

Victoria pulled her into a deep, hungry kiss. “Welcome, sister. Now let’s do some naughty, evil, delicious planning. I have so many ideas to improve this company.”

They spent hours plotting, laughing cruelly as they mapped expansions: more shady contracts, in-house femdom content, breaking more staff.

Monday, they announced to the horrified office: “Meet Maddison Masters, your new co-queen. Bow down, worms.”

The staff gasped. Maddie, their last hope, was gone.

One week later, Kensington & Masters Dominion was unrecognizable.

The building gleamed black and crimson. Exterior neon: KMD. Inside: porn studio floors with latex performers filming extreme femdom. Security brutes, former workers, now dumb, muscled latex men, patrolled in mirrored visors, tasers ready. When Maddison or Victoria got bored, they used them as fuck toys. Lieutenants, ruthless women in leather suits, humiliated underlings daily.

Dress code: latex and leather only. Heels mandatory. Collars locked.

Employees crawled when summoned. Served as furniture. Performed on camera. Or were punished publicly.

Victoria and Maddison ruled from the penthouse, thrones side by side, mirrors everywhere, vault stacked with cash and blackmail.

They lounged in latex, champagne in hand, watching feeds of broken staff.

“Fuck, look at them scurry.“ Victoria purred. “Pathetic worms.”

Maddison laughed, cruel. “And the money’s pouring in. Porn subs, extortion, crypto fronts… we’re fucking unstoppable.”

Victoria pulled her close. “Next step: the original owners. They corrupted me. Now we corrupt them. Let’s take everything.”

Maddison smirked. “Mmm, yes. Let’s make them kneel.”

They kissed, vicious, triumphant.

Power. Money. Sex. Cruelty.

They loved it.

Every filthy, greedy, sadistic second.

And their empire was only growing. Soon the whole city would obey the new queens.

The End?