ironpatriot2099

[ironpatriot2099]

The Tapes pt. 5

A slow burn transformation tale

Brian woke up covered in sweat. He ripped the headphones off his head. He felt so strange yet it felt so good. He remembered when Linda suggested he buy his own set of tapes. He thought of how confident she was and how she looked at him with lust the other evening.

She left and Brian quickly rush ordered his own set of tapes. Brian leaned back in bed as the memory replayed in his mind. “Do you want me Brian?” Linda asked on his lap. Brian grunted as he felt his hand stroke his hard cock. “I fucking want you so bad.” He answered in a deep confident tone. He felt like his body was on fire as if Linda was actually with him. The seductive look she gave him caused him to moan. He felt his cock twitch in his hand.

The memory was now replaced with a new fantasy as Linda was in lingerie now on his lap. She had tattoos on her arms and black lipstick covered her lips. Brian moaned her name as he stroked faster. She smiled and teased Brian pushing her big breasts into him. He felt her hard nipples against his chest. He then realized in this fantasy he also was different.

He felt stronger as his arms had more muscle. Linda was playing with his rock hard abs. She licked her lips then tongued his ear. The fantasy felt so real as he screamed in ecstasy. She pulled away and whispered. “If you want me so badly… take me.” In the fantasy Brian grabbed Linda’s neck and squeezed gently. He moved with lightning speed as he pushed her on the bed. He ripped off her panties and slid deep inside of her.

Brian in reality frowned as he didn’t quite recognize the behavior as his. He didn’t want to hurt Linda or be quite this rough. He almost stopped stroking himself wanting his fantasy to end. Linda grabbed the back of his neck and let out a determined, throaty moan. The sound was intoxicating and Brian wanted more. “ That’s it take me! Don’t stop!” Brian obeyed, doubling his efforts in reality and the fantasy simultaneously.

He could feel himself quickly approaching the precipice. Brian grunted as he felt his balls tighten. The room around him grew hazy, the lines between reality and fantasy blurring. In his mind, Linda's legs were wrapped around his waist, she squeezed tightly pushing him even deeper within her. “You’re mine now.” She said to him. Brian felt hot seed land on his chest as the fantasy evaporated.

Brian tried to catch his breath as he got up to clean himself. A voice that sounded like Linda spoke within his mind. “I need a real man. A man that takes what he wants. You know what you need to do.” Brian nodded in obedience as he stepped into the shower to start his day.

Linda woke up early again. She smiled as she remembered her night with Dave. She caressed her breasts as her nipples sprung to attention. She cooed with a sultry tone as she realized they felt larger than they were before. The voice spoke to her. “I told you I would help you stand out. This is just the beginning! Go see what else is new.”

Linda sprung from her bed, the excitement of the mysterious voice's promise thrumming through her veins. The early morning light danced across her floor, casting a soft glow that made her skin glow. She walked to her bathroom, her heart racing in anticipation of what she might find. The mirror reflected a young woman whose beauty had been magnified overnight, her features sharper, her breasts were bigger, her eyes brighter, and her lips fuller. The voice in her head grew more insistent, egging her on to explore further.

Linda turned her head and body. She looked back and saw that her ass was more round and appealing. Linda could feel that tingle once again between her legs. She hesitated as her hand rested on her abdomen as if waiting for permission. The voice knowing her desires answered. “Yes test it out.” She slid her hand down her stomach and let her fingers play with her clit. A shock of pleasure shot through her body and she let out a gasp. Her clit was bigger and more sensitive. She felt a sense of power and excitement as she realized she had been transformed.

Dave had been a bit rough with her the night before but she had liked it. It was like he had unlocked something primal within her. The voice whispered, “You liked it rough, didn’t you?” She nodded to herself in the mirror, her eyes glazed over with a mix of desire and wonder. “I knew you would. That’s why I gave you these new toys to play with. You can handle more now. Much more."

Linda moaned loudly as she plunged two fingers deep into her wet pussy. “Mmm yes I can handle much more!” She cried out as the feeling of pleasure and power overwhelmed her. Her pussy felt tighter, more responsive to her touch, as if it had been designed to give and receive greater pleasure. She bit her bottom lip, savoring the sensation as she began to pump her hand in a steady rhythm. The voice grew more playful, "You truly stand out now. Today do what bad girls do!”

Linda gasped at the revelation. She was much more than what she was. She could feel her orgasm closing in as thoughts of what this confidence and body could do. She pictured herself in the bar gaining more attention than any other woman in there. She trembled as her body shook with pleasure. She licked her fingers as she entered the shower to clean up.

Her thoughts swirling with excitement and the voice’s seductive suggestions, Linda decided to indulge the suggestion as she put on her jeans and top. The new curves made her clothes tighter, and she knew they would leave nothing to the imagination. The tightness around her ass and breasts made her feel like a goddess.

She looked inside her purse and saw the money she stole from Dave. The guilt she felt the other night for taking it had evaporated. She wondered why the voice asked her to do such a thing but she learned it was good to obey it. She decided to put the extra funds to good use. She put on her sneakers and rode her bike to the tattoo parlor. She wanted to feel the pain and pleasure from the needle once again. She also wanted the vision she saw of herself to become a reality.

She sat in the chair as the artist inked the barb wire on her arm. Linda couldn’t help but bite her lip as she watched the artist concentrating but also taking glimpses at her cleavage. The artist finished the work on both arms as she slapped the cash on the counter to get to class.

She was late as she walked to the front. She could feel the stares from everyone in the hall. The familiar tingle began between her legs as her nipples poked through her shirt. She took her seat and grinned when even the professor lost concentration taking a look at her. “Do what bad girls do!” The voice repeated in her mind.

Linda waited until all her classmates had left the hall. She walked toward her professor to ask about the homework.

Linda looked down before addressing her professor. It was like she was the shy anxious girl she once was. However, this time she was doing it on purpose to put her instructor at ease. “Professor, I have a question about the assignment.” She paused, waiting for the nod that she could continue. “What do you mean by classical conditioning in humans?”

The professor leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard as he often did when contemplating a question. “Ah, a good question indeed, Linda. You see, classical conditioning is a psychological concept that Pavlov discovered with his dogs. But it's not just about animals salivating at the sound of a bell. It's about how we, as humans, learn to associate stimuli with responses. It's all around us, in every aspect of our lives, from the smell of our favorite food to the sound of a phone ringing, prompting us to answer it. It's essentially learning from experience and making connections between different things.”

“That is so cool ! Because I think I have been conditioned to want something and it’s making my mouth water right now.” Linda’s shy posture vanished as she eyed her professor’s crotch. Her voice had taken on a seductive tone that was as sudden as it was unexpected. The professor’s eyes shot down to his own groin area, unsure if he had just heard correctly. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the stirring in his pants.

“I-I see. Well, it is indeed a powerful concept, but the next class is coming in soon. Perhaps we can discuss this further in my office?” The professor's voice wavered, and he shifted uncomfortably, desperately trying to keep his composure. She nodded in agreement as she licked her full lips.

10 minutes later

The professor was in his office groaning as Linda sucked his cock. “Ughh what happened to you? You used to be so shy.” He exclaimed between grunts as she took him deeper into her mouth. She felt his hands tug at her hair as she deepthroats him, her eyes watering but her resolve unbroken.

She stopped for a moment to answer. She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes as she gripped his member.

“I’m a bad girl now.”

[ironpatriot2099]

BOTTLE IT

Mike loved his girlfriend Ashton so much, but she really did have a confidence problem. It was the sixth time she had tried to pass her driving test and failed.

"Oh dear," whimpered Ashton as she reversed over a bicycle and crushed it... the examiner shaking his head as he ticked fail yet again.

The stupid thing was, Ashton was a great driver. When relaxed she was brilliant... but as soon as she was put under any pressure her confidence crumbled and she bottled it.

Michael comforted Ashton as she cried on his shoulder. "I can't do anything right," she wept.

It wasn't just the driving test. Ashton was a real wallflower and would lose her nerve as soon as any pressure was applied. Michael wished he could find a way to boost her fragile confidence.

But how?

***

"Here, give your girlfriend this blonde hair dye and I promise her confidence will swell," smirked Michael's bitchy step-sister Gina. "Everyone knows blonde girls are more confident. Convince her to go blonde and I promise she'll never go back."

Michael didn't entirely trust his step-sister, but the bottle of confidence boosting blonde hair dye did seem like a thoughtful idea. Perhaps the psychological effect alone would make Ashton more bold and confident.

Michael knew that Ashton would be against using this dye, so he swapped it out for her usual hair colour and waited. He was sure she would forgive him once she saw the results.

***

Ashton hummed to herself as she lathered her hair with her usual dark brown hair dye and waited for it to take effect. It smelt and felt different this time, and as she rubbed it in she felt a strange erotic tingle throb through her body.

Ashton's eyes widened as she watched her hair sparkle and glow. A vivid blonde streak suddenly flashed through her hair, then another and another.

She moaned, her scalp tingling and throbbing deliciously as the dye was absorbed in. This was no ordinary dye, it was magical and she gasped as her hair lengthened and grew, turning blonder and silkier as it transformed.

Ashton groaned as her skin tanned and her flat boobed chest swelled and expanded. Her lips curled into a cruel bitchy smirk as her lashes lengthened and sharp pink nails shot from her fingers.

"Fuckkk yessssss," she hissed as a surge of power and confidence throbbed through her body. She laughed, tossing back her hair and giggling as her flabby body toned up. Stretching her toned body, Ashton grinned as she grew taller and more curvaceous. Her tits were now large and firm, her ass perfect. Her body posture changed to become confident and bossy.

"This is soooo much fucking better," she purred. "That fucking loser Ashton is dead... I am Ash now."

***

Ash grinned as she straddled her new boyfriends bike and looked over at the weeping loser on the road.

She'd kicked Michael over with with one of her booted heels, knocking him out of her way when the pathetic wimp had tried to stop her getting on the bike with Marlon.

"How many times do I have to tell you loser? I'm Marlon's girl now."

Ash's pussy was already wet and she could feel her superior new boyfriends big cock was rock hard through his jeans. He loved seeing his new woman crush losers.

Ash was so horny for her badboy lover. She wished she could fuck him right here and show the world what a stud he was. In fact she was tempted - it wasn't like she lacked the confidence anymore.

Since dying her hair Ash had quit her dead-end job and started working as a dancer in a bar. That was where she had met the biker gang and instantly been accepted as their newest recruit. She even had a tattoo on her lower back, the gangs emblem. She was a biker bitch for life now.

"Ashton, please. My step sister tricked me. That dye has turned you into an evil biker bitch. You have to listen."

Ignoring Michael, Ash kissed Marlon, her tongue in his mouth. Then spinning round she giggled as he groped her tits with one hand and used his other to grab the handle bars.

Ash had passed her driving test weeks ago, easily getting a perfect performance... especially when she sucked off the examiner. She loved driving, but her real passion was for motorbikes.

Ash couldn't wait to buy her own and join the gang for real, but for now she would ride with Marlon... in every sense.

Laughing wildly, she turned her eyes to the road as Marlon gunned the bike and they set off into the future. Her pathetic cuck of a boyfriend was left weeping, wishing his innocent and kind girlfriend would return.

But Ashton was dead. Ash had taken her place and this bad bitch was here to stay.

Blondes really do have more fun.

[ironpatriot2099]

Bitch In A Bottle

"You're going to love this, babe," Kyle exclaimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Courtney looked at him with a blend of curiosity and wariness. They'd been together since high school, where they'd both been part of the 'nerd herd', bonding over comic books and video games. Kyle had always had a penchant for pranks, but they were usually harmless and good-natured. This time, though, she couldn't quite read his expression.

"What is it?" she asked, taking the bottle he held out to her. It looked like her usual shampoo, but the label read "Platinum Blitz" instead of "Chestnut Sheen."

"It's a surprise," he winked, his voice full of excitement. "Trust me, it'll be epic."

Courtney sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Fine, but if I turn into a blue alien, you're going to have to explain to my mom why her only daughter is on the news."

The next morning, Courtney stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over her. As she lathered her hair with the new shampoo, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. Maybe a little change would be fun. She rinsed it out, watching the water swirl down the drain with a hint of color she hadn't noticed before. Stepping out, she wrapped a towel around her and went to the mirror, her heart racing. To her horror, her hair had indeed turned a brilliant, unmistakable shade of blonde. Panic set in as she realized the gravity of Kyle's prank.

Her eyes widened when she saw the transformation wasn't limited to her hair. Her breasts had ballooned, her nipples darkening to a rosy hue. Her body had become more voluptuous, her hips wider and her skin glowing. Courtney's shyness melted away, replaced by an unexpected and overwhelming sense of confidence and sexuality. She looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't resist running her hands over her new curves, feeling a strange thrill at the sight.

The change in Courtney's demeanor didn't go unnoticed. At work, she found herself flirting with colleagues she'd never given a second glance. Her voice grew sultrier, and she began to dress in tighter, more revealing clothes. Kyle found her new persona thrilling at first. He couldn't believe the shy girl he'd been with for so long had become a vixen with an insatiable appetite for attention. But as the days turned into weeks, he started to feel like he didn't know her anymore.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the office, Kyle walked in to find Courtney's clothes strewn across the bedroom floor. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her, naked and straddling a muscular black man on their bed. She looked up at him with a feral grin, her eyes glinting with lust. "You're home early," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction as the man beneath her thrust up into her. Kyle was shocked to see his girlfriend, no longer the sweet, innocent girl he knew, but a sex-crazed woman with a wild appetite.

The stranger's dark skin contrasted with Courtney's now-blonde hair, which cascaded down her back as she rode him. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and Kyle could see the man's hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. Courtney threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as the man's muscles tensed. The sight of Courtney, her eyes glazed over in ecstasy, was too much for Kyle to handle. He felt a mix of anger, betrayal, and an unwelcome arousal at the sight of his girlfriend being claimed by another.

"You can watch," she snarled, "but only if you behave." Her words were cold, a stark contrast to the warm, loving tones she used to use with him. "And if you're a good boy," she added, her voice dripping with malice, "you can clean me up after."

Kyle felt his blood boil. He'd never seen this side of Courtney before, and he didn't like it. The man above her grinned, a knowing look in his eyes, and Kyle realized with a start that he wasn't just a random lover. This was deliberate. This was part of the twisted game his girlfriend had become.

As the man climaxed, filling Courtney with his seed, Kyle's world came crashing down around him. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew he had to get out of there. He backed away, his eyes never leaving the scene before him. Courtney leaned back, her body trembling with pleasure, and whispered, "Welcome to the new me, Kyle."

The man pulled out of her, his member glistening with their combined juices. Courtney looked at Kyle and licked her lips. "I think you're going to love the new me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But if you don't, you can always go back to playing with your toys."

Kyle's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the girl he'd fallen in love with. This wasn't the Courtney who'd shared his nerdy jokes and held him when he was down. This was someone else entirely, a woman who reveled in his humiliation.

This Story was inspired by my good friend Ironpatriot so make sure to show them some love.

[ironpatriot2099]

The Bitch Box

Gina tiptoed into her stepmom’s walk in closet, heart racing. Her stepmom, Veronica, was everything Gina wasn’t. Gorgeous, confident, and ruthlessly cruel. Veronica had made Gina’s life miserable since she’d moved in, always quick with a sharp comment about her appearance or a snide remark about her lack of friends.

Gina wasn’t supposed to be in here, but she was looking for something, anything to convince her dad to leave the bitch.

As she pushed aside the rows of designer clothes, something caught her eye. It was a black box with a black tag hanging from it that read ‘Regina’. She knew instantly it was from Veronica, only she used her full name. A name she abhorred hearing, even reading it made her shiver in disgust.

Gina worried that Veronica knew that she would be snooping around and left the box as some sort of message but then again her birthday was coming up soon. Veronica had never been the gift giving type but Gina had to know what was in the box. Taking it barely out of the closet it, she lay it on her parents big bed.

As she slowly lifted the lid she prepared herself for the worst. Maybe it would be some diet pills, maybe it would be a coupon for a salon, an insult masked as a gift. However of all the things she expected she was surprised to see a pair of tight black latex pants.

Intrigued, Gina reached out, her fingers just grazing the smooth material when, without warning, the pants sprang to life.

They coiled around her hand, slithering up her arm like a snake. Gina gasped, trying to pull away, but the pants had a mind of their own. They slithered down her torso and wrapped around her legs.

Gina’s heart pounded as the latex pants tightened around her legs, clinging with an unnatural force. Panic surged through her, and she immediately tried to pull them off, her hands frantically grasping at the slick material. But the pants seemed to have a life of their own, resisting her every effort, fusing with her jeans in a way that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

“No! This isn’t right!” She gasped, yanking harder, but the pants only gripped tighter, inching up her thighs and forcing her hips to curve seductively. Her initial panic began to mingle with something else, an unexpected thrill that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel them reshaping her, every twist and pull of the latex transforming her body into something new, something… sexy.

Each squeeze sent a wave of heat through her body, starting in her legs but quickly spread upwards. It was a tingling sensation that left her skin humming with energy.

Her stomach was next to change as all fat evaporated, giving her a perfectly flat and toned tummy. She had seen girls in her school spend months in the gym to achieve such a look.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it as the day from her stomach moved upwards and merge with her modest boobs. She watched in disbelief as her tits began to swell, becoming fuller, more pronounced. The pants were seemingly moulding her body into something more undeniably alluring, almost predatory.

As the changes continued, Gina’s resistance faltered. “No… I need to stop this…” She whispered, but even as the words left her lips, a part of her wasn’t so sure anymore. The fear was still there, but it was quickly being overtaken by a strange sense of exhilaration.

Her hair, once wild and frizzy, straightened into silky waves that cascaded down her back. She reached up to touch it, marveling at the luxuriously sleek texture. “This… feels... mmmm so fucking amazing.” She murmured, her voice becoming smoother, more seductive. Her hands had moved from trying to rip the pants off to instead roaming them over her new body.

She could see her reflection in the mirror now, the girl staring back at her was almost unrecognizable. She looked wickedly sexy, with a hint of danger in her eyes.

Gina’s fingers brushed against her lips as they plumped up. The sharp, polished nails that had replaced her bitten ones made her smile with a newfound confidence. Thick makeup covered her face and dark eyeliner gave her a look that could kill. The initial urge to fight was waning, replaced by a growing sense of entitlement.

The more the pants changed her, the more she found herself enjoying it. The power, the beauty, the seductive allure, it all felt so right, so intoxicating. The fear and resistance that had gripped her at the start dissolved into a deep, self-assured arrogance.

Gina’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Why was I fighting this? I feel so fucking hot and amazing.” She purred, her voice filled with satisfaction. She struck a pose, admiring the way the pants clung to her now-perfect form. The transformation was complete, and she had never felt more alive.

Gina couldn’t stop staring at her reflection. She turned slowly, letting her hands glide over her newly transformed body. “Look at me, I’m… perfect.” She gloated, her voice laced with awe. She ran a hand down her chest, feeling the firm curves that the latex had sculpted.

She struck a pose, arching her back slightly, one hand on her hip. “All those girls at school, with their cheap makeup and tacky clothes… they’re nothing compared to me. How pathetic they must seem now, trying so hard and failing so miserably.” She purred, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.

Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous confidence as she stepped closer to the mirror, her gaze sharp and cold. “They’re beneath me, all of them. From now on, I’ll be the one they look up to. The one they envy. The one they fear.” She said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Looking over to the box she spied there was still more in it. With a grin she took out a leather jacket and a pair of expensive Louboutins. Knowing what the pants did, she eagerly held out her arms and the jacket leapt up and snaked up them. She slipped seamlessly into the leather material as it complimented the pants perfectly.

She sat on the bed and held her feet out. The shoes jumped out and snugly fit onto her feet. Standing back up she gazed at her completed form with a self satisfaction she had never experience. It was intoxicating.

Gina smirked, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she struck another pose, reveling in her newfound power. “I’m not just better, I’m superior. And they’ll all learn that soon enough.” She declared, her voice tinged with arrogance.

As Gina admired her transformed reflection, the door creaked open, and Veronica stepped into the room, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She took in the sight of Gina, now exuding a wicked allure, and a sly smile spread across her lips.

“Well, look who’s found her birthday present a bit early.” Veronica said, her tone dripping with mock surprise.

Gina turned to face her, a mixture of confusion and curiosity flashing in her now-intense gaze. “Birthday present? You did this?”

Veronica chuckled, sauntering closer. “Of course, darling. I was getting tired of having such a pathetic stepdaughter, someone who couldn’t even stand up for herself, let alone command the attention she deserves. But I knew the bitch box could help.”

“The bitch box?” Gina echoed, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice. Veronica stepped over to the bed and picked up the now empty box sitting there and put the lid on.

Veronica’s eyes sparkled with a dark satisfaction. “It fulfills the owner’s darkest desires and gives them what they need to become a true bitch. Inside your box were those stunning latex pants, the leather jacket that’s now molding to your curves, and the heels that give you that perfect strut. Everything you needed to unlock your true potential.” She explained, her voice low and enticing.

Gina glanced down at her outfit, admiring how her new body fit it perfectly. She flexed her fingers, admiring the sharpness of her nails, and felt a rush of power and confidence surge through her.

“So, you planned all of this?” Gina asked, her voice tinged with both awe and a newfound edge.

Veronica nodded, her smile widening. “I knew you had it in you. I knew Regina was inside you waiting to be unleashed. You just needed a little push. Now look at you. You’re everything I wanted in a daughter. Strong, beautiful, and above all, utterly ruthless.”

Gina’s lips curled into a smirk. The resistance she had felt earlier was completely gone, replaced by a thrilling sense of destiny. Hearing her full name no longer filled her with disgust. It filled her with evil pride. Gina was a loser nobody, Regina was everything. She never wanted to go back.

Regina turned fully to face Veronica, a sly smile spreading across her newly enhanced lips. “Thank you, Mommy.” She purred, her voice dripping with the seductive confidence that now defined her. The word "Mommy" rolled off her tongue naturally, with a warmth and affection she’d never felt before. Veronica wasn’t just her stepmother anymore. She was her true mother, the one who had unlocked her potential.

Veronica’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she heard the new name, and she reached out to gently cup Regina’s chin. “That’s my girl. You’re everything I wanted you to be. My perfect bitchy daughter.” She said, her voice full of pride.

Regina nodded, her eyes full of eager anticipation. “What next?” She asked, her tone laced with excitement and a newfound hunger for more.

Veronica’s smile widened as she handed over the sleek, black box that had started it all. “Whatever you desire, darling.” She said, her voice a whisper of dark promise.

With a sense of purpose, Regina took the bitch box and carefully opened it, her breath catching as she saw what lay inside. A pair of designer sunglasses, sleek and impossibly chic, resting atop the velvet lining. They weren’t there before but they were the perfect final touch to her transformation.

Regina lifted the sunglasses from the box, admiring their expensive design. They were the perfectly haughty item to finish her spoilt brat look. She slipped them on and felt the world shift through their tinted lenses.

“How do I look mommy?” Regina said as she admired herself in the irritating some more.

Veronica watched her with pride. “You look spectacular, my dear. You’ll always be my little princess but it’s time you claimed your place as Queen at school.”

Regina smirked, the sunglasses perfectly complementing her new look. “Oh, I will, Mommy. I will.”

Without another word Regina strutted out of the room and down the stairs. Veronica walked over to the window and looked at the black sports car wrapped in a red ribbon parked in the driveway. She waited with bated breath for Regina to walk out. The box would always provide for Regina but Veronica still wanted to spoil her new daughter.

THE END

[ironpatriot2099]

Slutz

Morgan pushed open the creaky door of the thrift store hoping this place would have what she needed. She had already been to 5 other stores looking for the right doll for her bitchy step sister Emma but had come up empty each time. No store had the exact one she knew her sister wanted and she was starting to get frustrated. To her they all looked the same.

Keep reading

[ironpatriot2099]

The Tapes pt. 4

A slow burn transformation tale

Linda continued to ride Brian’s hard cock. She looked at him with a seductive smile as his eyes rolled back. She moaned in glee as she squeezed her thighs around him. "Yes Brian, stay hard for me," she commanded, her voice husky with desire. He grunted in obedience as his hips thrust upward to meet her movements. The bed creaked beneath them, the springs straining with every thrust.

Linda shivered as she felt a hand cup her bosom from behind. “When is it my turn?” The gruff voice said. Linda turned her head slightly seeing Dave shirtless behind her. Linda began to moan louder as she gyrated faster on Brian. “Why wait?” Linda moaned as Dave took his pants off in agreement. Dave continued to grope Linda’s breasts as she lowered her hand, finding the hard phallus behind her. Dave growled as she tugged on his member with her hand. She looked back down at Brian as his expression served as a warning of what was to come. She jerked faster as Dave grunted, unable to resist her expert grip.

She exhaled as she knew what she had accomplished. Two men were now under her complete control. They were enthralled by her and her body was giving them pleasure. Linda grinned as she felt Dave's hands move down to her hips, pulling her closer to him. His hardness rubbed against her hand as she continued to stroke him. She looked down and saw Brian's eyes roll back into his head as he moaned her name. She felt a surge of power course through her veins as she realized the effect she had on these two men.

She felt them shiver as Brian called out her name. The pleasure was contagious, spreading between them like wildfire. She felt Dave’s weight on her back as she she felt Dave lengthen in her hand. She felt the warmth upon her back as Dave’s seed shot out. Brian wasn’t far behind as he grabbed Linda’s hips tightly. His body tensed and he groaned as he filled her. Linda trembled as she came.

Linda woke up quickly from the dream. She pulled her covers off revealing her soaked panties. She felt energized as she felt her hand wander down to feel her wet sex. She smiled as she felt that familiar feeling of pleasure. Linda sighed as she stopped to lick her fingers. “It’s not enough anymore. We need to make our dreams a reality. We need to fuck” Linda nodded in agreement. The new voice in her head was never wrong.

However, the thought of losing her virginity brought up feelings of anxiety. The feeling she had thought was all but a distant memory. “It’s the last step Linda. It’s what you need to finally move on from your past.” She took a deep breath as she got dressed knowing what needed to be done.

She walked quickly to the bar. Dave’s bike was there as usual. Linda now began to understand what was really happening at the establishment. Linda’s naïveté had clouded her judgment but now she could see with complete clarity. Dave was a drug dealer and the bar was his spot. The realization didn’t scare Linda but in fact excited her more.

Dave was at the pool table helping a girl with her shot. He was leaning over her, whispering something into her ear that made her giggle and blush. Linda felt a twinge of jealousy but pushed it aside. She knew this was the night she had to make her move. She walked up to them with purpose, her heart racing in her chest.

“Leave Bitch. Me and Dave need to talk.” Linda’s voice was firm and surprisingly steady. The girl looked at her with a mix of confusion and irritation. Linda curled her hand into a fist ready to stand her ground. Dave slowly stood up and grinned. “It’s ok Sarah. I do have some business that we need to address. Sarah pouted and stomped away as Dave took one last look at her shapely ass. He turned his attention to Linda and growled. “Ok this better be…whoah!” Linda grabbed his cut with both hands and pulled him towards her. “Shut up! Tonight you take my virginity.” She let go and pushed him as she turned around and began walking to the door. Linda stopped and looked over her shoulder. “You coming?”

Dave looked around and fixed his shirt underneath his cut. He put on his jacket and followed her out of the bar. His heart was racing, a mix of shock and excitement pulsing through him. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat building inside him as he thought about what she had just said. He had noticed Linda's innocence, but he never thought she would be the one to make the first move. It was like she was a different woman now. Dave felt his member grow hard in his pants as he thought about her confidence.

Linda put the passenger helmet on her head and waited for Dave to sit on his bike.. He looked at her with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with lust. "You're really going through with this?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. “Just shut up and bring me to your place.” Dave no longer hesitated as he hopped on his bike and staunchly started the engine. Linda grabbed tightly to Dave’s waist. She playfully felt his abdomen as she leaned her head into his back. The vibration beneath her made her bite her lip.

The bike roared through the night, the cool air brushing against Linda’s skin as they sped towards his apartment. The thrill of the ride only heightened her anticipation. She could feel the power of the engine, and the heat of Dave’s body through his leather jacket. It was all she could do to keep from rubbing herself against him. When they arrived, Linda practically jumped off the bike, her legs wobbly with excitement.

Dave’s apartment was a bachelor’s paradise. The smell of leather and whiskey filled the air, a stark contrast to the clean, organized chaos of the bar. He led her to the bedroom, a dimly lit space with a large bed covered in black sheets. Linda’s heart raced as she took in the sight, her breath coming in short gasps. Dave noticed her nervousness and took her hand, leading her to the bed. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt.

Linda trembled as her adrenaline was subsiding within her. Dave embraced her as they kissed, his hands moving to unbutton her shirt with an urgency that mirrored her own. The anticipation grew as their bodies collided, the softness of her skin against the roughness of his, the scent of their combined desire filling the room.

He laid her on the bed, their eyes locked in a silent agreement of what was about to happen. His calloused hands caressed her body, sending waves of pleasure through her that she had only ever experienced in her dreams. She moaned as his hands reached her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her erect nipples. Linda felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with need.

Dave’s mouth trailed down her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses as he undid her pants. She lifted her hips, allowing him to pull them off along with her drenched panties. The cool air brushed against her exposed sex, making her shiver. He looked at her with hunger, his eyes roaming over her naked body before he leaned in to kiss her again, his tongue demanding entry into her mouth.

Linda’s hands moved to unbuckle his belt, her trembling fingers fumbling with the clasp. She managed to open it, and his pants fell to the floor, revealing his erect cock. It was larger than she had remembered, and she felt a mix of fear and excitement at the thought of it inside her. Dave noticed her apprehension and took over, gently pushing her hands away. He removed his own shirt, revealing a chest that was a canvas of tattoos and muscles.

“It’s time to stand out Linda. Let him unlock the woman you have been holding back.”The voice was seductive, encouraging what would happen next.

Dave's eyes burned with a passion that was both fiery and gentle as he pushed her legs apart. He leaned down and kissed her inner thighs, his warm breath causing goosebumps to erupt along her skin. Linda’s breath hitched as his tongue grazed her clit, the sensation sending electric shocks through her body. She had never felt anything so intense, so overwhelming. Her hands found his hair, pulling him closer as he began to lick and suck, her body responding instinctively.

The voice in her head grew stronger, whispering sweet nothings that encouraged her to let go of her fears. “This is what you’ve been waiting for, Linda. This is your liberation. Embrace it. Embrace him." With each flick of his tongue, Linda felt the tension building, a storm of pleasure brewing within her. She arched her back, her body begging for more.

Dave could feel Linda’s inexperience and took his time, savoring every moment. He knew she was on the edge, but he wanted to make sure she was ready. His tongue circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure as he slid a finger inside her tight pussy. She was so wet, so ready, and he could feel her walls quivering around him.

Linda’s moans grew louder as the storm within her reached its peak. She had never felt anything so incredible, so all-consuming. The voice in her head grew fainter as the pleasure took over. Her body tensed and she screamed out his name as she came, her juices coating his finger and her inner thighs.

Dave looked up at her, a smug smile playing on his lips. He knew he had her now, and she was his for the taking. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock throbbing with need. He lined himself up with her entrance and paused, looking into her eyes for any sign of hesitation. Linda’s gaze was filled with want, with a hunger that matched his own. She nodded, giving him the silent consent he needed.

With one swift thrust, he entered her, the sound of her gasp filling the room. It was tight, much tighter than he had expected. He felt a pang of guilt at taking her innocence, but was quickly overwhelmed by the pleasure of claiming her. He pushed deeper, feeling her walls stretch around him. She was so warm, so wet, and she tightened around him like a vice. He had to bite his lip to keep from coming right then and there.

Linda’s eyes widened with a mix of pain and pleasure. She had never felt so full, so complete. The voice in her head was silent now, but she knew it was watching, savoring every moment of her transformation. Dave began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate. He wanted to make this last, to enjoy every second of her first time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, her nails digging into his back.

The voice grew loud again within her. “Yes! This is what we needed. It feels so good! Let them know your power! Let them witness your strength!” Linda moaned as her eyebrows curled in confusion. She didn’t know what the voice meant but it was never wrong. Linda arched her back as her moans grew louder. “That’s it! Make him yours!” Dave groaned as he felt her muscles tighten around his hard cock.

“Oh Fuck Yes!” Linda screamed as she grabbed Dave tighter. Dave felt Linda grab his neck as she gyrated her hips into him. He used all his willpower to concentrate and hold back his orgasm. Linda looked at him with a sinister grin as with amazing strength flipped him over to his back. “Wait .. what are you?” Dave asked, shocked. Linda placed her finger on his lips, quieting him as she began to ride his cock.

Her movements grew more erratic and powerful. Dave could feel something was off, something primal was taking over her. Her eyes were piercing and her skin felt hot to the touch. “I’m so sorry Dave but I’m in charge now.” Linda whispered into his ear as she picked up the pace, her hips moving like they had a mind of their own. Dave felt his cock hit deeper and harder with each thrust, the pleasure was intense and unlike anything he had ever felt.

He watched as her movements became more intense and experienced. It was like he was fucking a porn star now and he couldn’t hold himself back. “Oh god, you’re so fucking good!” He shouted as he felt himself getting closer to climax. Linda leaned forward, her breasts bouncing in his face as she ground herself against him. She moaned and said “I’m actually the best.”

Dave grunted in agreement as he felt his balls twitch and empty. Linda roared triumphantly as she pumped every last drop from him. Dave tried to catch his breath as Linda’s statement replayed in his head. She was this nerdy frail girl just a few days ago. Now she was a woman who made a criminal cum harder than he ever had before.

Linda hopped off his cock and watched the seed slide down her leg. “ You were right. I do love to ride.” she said with a devilish smirk. Dave laid there, trying to comprehend what just happened. He felt drained but oddly satisfied. He looked at her in amazement. “How?” he managed to say.

Linda stepped away from the bed and picked up her clothes. “Thank you. I needed…this.” She rushed into the bathroom to clean up.

Linda looked in the mirror as she dropped her clothes to the floor. She looked at her body covered in sweat. All of her skin was flush as she felt goosebumps on her arms. She felt her nipples harden again as she licked her lips. The voice spoke to her as if she was having a conversation.

“Hmmm, look at how sexy you are.” Linda felt that familiar tingle that she had now grown to love.

“What are you afraid of now Linda?”

Linda grasped the sink as she looked deeply into her own eyes. She answered her inner voice with one word out loud.

“Nothing”

[ironpatriot2099]

7 Minutes in Heaven

Sarah adjusted her glasses and smoothed down her Star Wars t-shirt as she stood in front of Franklin’s house, clutching a book, a small gift for him. Her heart pounded in her chest, not just because it was Franklin’s 18th birthday, but because she had finally decided today was the day she would tell him how she felt. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Franklin's mom greeted her warmly and directed her to the basement, where she could already hear the familiar sounds of excited chatter and the hum of a video game console. Descending the stairs, Sarah spotted Franklin in the middle of a lively discussion about the latest Dungeons & Dragons campaign with their friends.

“Sarah! You made it!” Franklin called out, his face lighting up as he saw her. He wore his favorite Doctor Who shirt, and his messy brown hair fell over his thick framed glasses as usual.

“Happy birthday, Franklin.” Sarah said, handing him the gift bag with a shy smile. She could feel her cheeks redden as their hands briefly touched.

“Thanks! This is awesome.” He said, peeking into the bag and grinning.

Just as Sarah was about to ask Franklin if they could talk in private, the basement door swung open with a loud bang. Brett, Franklin’s older brother, swaggered down the stairs, his muscular frame filling the narrow space. Behind him trailed his girlfriend Kayla, her high-pitched bitchy laugh grating on everyone's nerves. Behind them was their posse of equally obnoxious friends.

“Hey, baby bro!” Brett called out, his voice dripping with mock affection.

Franklin’s face tightened with a mixture of fear and anger. “Brett, mom said you couldn’t crash my party!”

Brett ignored him and sauntered over to the stereo, swapping the geeky soundtrack for loud, thumping music. Kayla and her friends started raiding the snacks, making loud comments about the “kiddie” party.

Sarah's blood boiled as she watched Franklin’s party being hijacked. She couldn’t stand seeing him hurt like this. Summoning all her courage, she marched up to Brett. “Hey! You can’t just come in here and ruin everything!”

Brett raised an eyebrow, amused. Before he could respond, Kayla stepped in front of him, a condescending smile plastered on her face. “Aww, look at you standing up for your little nerdy friend. How cute.” She said and pushed her onto the nearby sofa with a cackle.

Brett smirked, relishing the tension in the room. “Alright, we’ll leave. How about a little game?”

“And then you’ll leave?” Franklin asked.

“Scouts honor.” Brett said making a mock crossing of his heart. Franklin nodded.

“Ok we’re going to play a little game I like to call, 7 minutes in heaven.” Brett said with a deepening grin.

All the nerds in the room shifted uncomfortably, they knew what was involved in that game and the social awkwardness that came with it.

“But we don’t have any bottles to spin.” Franklin said matter of factly. Brett looked around the room and grabbed a long, somewhat phallic statue.

“This will do.” Brett said picking it up.

Franklin’s eyes widened in horror. “Brett, we can’t use that! That’s one of Mom and Dad’s fertility idols they got on vacation!”

“Cram it Franklin, it’s just a game. Now everyone, sit in a circle.” Brett snapped

The room fell silent as Brett’s friends began to sit down, their sneers making it clear they were enjoying the discomfort they caused. Sarah exchanged a worried glance with Franklin, but reluctantly, everyone followed suit and sat in a circle on the floor.

One of Brett’s friends, Greg, a tall guy with a smirk that matched Brett's, took the idol and spun it hard. The room watched with a mix of dread and anticipation as it slowed, finally pointing at Lydia, a shy girl from Franklin’s group who was known for her encyclopedic knowledge of all things Star Trek.

Brett laughed loudly, picked up the idol and handed it to Greg. “Alright, time for 7 minutes in heaven! Get in the closet, you two.”

Greg hesitated, clearly not thrilled about the idea, but under Brett’s watchful eye, he reluctantly stood up and walked over to Lydia. She blushed furiously but allowed herself to be led into the small closet nearby. The door closed behind them, and an awkward silence filled the basement.

The next seven minutes felt like an eternity. Brett's group exchanged snide remarks, while Franklin and his friends watched the closet door with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.

Finally, the door creaked open, and the two emerged. Though it was subtle, Lydia looked different. Her glasses were gone, her hair was out of it's ponytail and from somewhere she had gotten gum and was chewing it obnoxiously. Sarah spied her nails and saw they were long and manicured. Did she have those earlier, she thought to herself.

Apart from her physical difference though she seemed to hold herself differently. Her head held higher, her poise more confident. She clung to Greg as though she were his girlfriend.

“Eh, dude me and my lady here are going to head out.” Greg said to Brett as her looked lustfully at Lydia and tossed the idol back to Brett who looked at them confused.

“Fine, leave. Whatever.” Brett said eventually shrugging his shoulders. Irritated by loosing two of the party but undeterred, he turned his gaze to the circle. “Alright, who’s next? You over there, spin.” He ordered, pointing at one of Franklin’s friends.

As the game continued, a strange pattern began to emerge. Each time the idol was spun, the pair that went into the closet emerged with a transformation that no one could quite explain. If a nerd spun and landed on one of Brett’s bully friends, the bully would come out transformed, more like the nerd who spun, and vice versa. And each time, the pair exited the closet infatuated with each other, holding hands, and promptly left the party together.

It was odd, surreal even, but no one thought there was anything at play other than some horny teens’ hormones getting the best of them. The tension in the room grew thicker with each round, and now only Brett, Kayla, Sarah, and Franklin remained.

“Well only four left. We could call it quits now, but let’s see where this goes.” Brett grinned as he took the idol and spun it.

The idol whirled around, everyone holding their breath as it slowed. When it finally stopped, it was pointing directly at Sarah.

Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Franklin, who looked as though he wanted to intervene, but Brett was already stepping forward, his sneer firmly in place.

“Looks like it’s you and me, nerd girl.” Brett said mockingly as he grabbed Sarah by the arm and led her to the closet.

“Don’t go falling in love with her.” Kayla said with a cackle after them.

Inside the cramped closet, Sarah and Brett stood on opposite sides, arms crossed and glaring at each other, with the idol standing between them against the wall on the floor. The tension was palpable, and for a moment, the only sound was their breathing.

Then, faintly at first, Sarah began to hear whispers in her head. “Brett is so manly, so handsome. Isn’t he better than that loser Franklin?” She shook her head, trying to ignore the foreign voice, but it grew louder and more insistent. Neither her or Brett had noticed the idol's eyes glowing.

“If Franklin really cared about you he’d be ripping that door open to get you but he’s not because he’s weak and pathetic. Brett on the other hand… that’s a real man.” The voice continued and she found her eyes betraying her as they slowly drifted over to Brett.

She drank in the sight of his strong jawline, his confident stance. The repulsion she once felt for him and his cruel ways started to melt away, replaced by an inexplicable attraction. She bit her lip hungrily, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

Her body was starting to heat up as memories of seeing him mow the lawn topless ran through her head. The image of his glistening muscles making her panties suddenly wet. She tugged at her clothes in discomfort as if they were too tight.

She didn't yet realise but her tits had gone up two sizes already and her waist had shrunk. Her butt as well had swelled enough to give her whole body a new more pleasing silhouette. She hadn't yet noticed but Brett had.

He looked at her like he had never had before, his eyes noticing curves he had missed. Sarah was just the nerd next door but for some reason now he was seeing her in a completely different light.

"Did you get a haircut or something? Whatever it is you're looking great." He asked her with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Sarah felt her his eyes on her, looking at her, noticing her. She liked it. “Mmmm he's complimenting you, that's more than Franklin ever does. Reward him.” The voice purred in her head.

"You tell me." She grinned as reached up, pulled her hair out of its ponytail, and let it cascade down her back in a teasing manner. Brett's eyes followed her every movement, almost entranced.

"No I don't think that's it. Maybe it's your glasses?" He said with a cheeky smile as he took a step towards her. Her heart pounded as he did.

"He likes you, but can you make him WANT you?" The voice in her head said darkly.

Sarah took off her glasses, tossing them aside carelessly. Her vision remained perfectly clear, as if her transformation had enhanced her senses and although she couldn't see them, her eyes had changed from her dull brown to icy blue.

"What glasses?" She said returning his cheeky smile to him, while taking a step closer herself. They now stood closer to one another than they ever had in their life.

"I know, it's got to be those nails." Brett said snapping his fingers and nodding towards her hands. Sarah looked down at her freshly manicured talons painted red. It didn't even dawn on her that they had been chipped and bitten only a few minutes ago.

She flexed her hand and looked at her nails with glee. They looked good but her mind couldn't help wonder how they would look wrapped around Brett's cock.

"Take him! You deserve him and it'll be so hawt stealing him from Kayla, won't it?" The voice purred as Sarah ran a hand up Brett's strong chest, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his muscles.

While clearly turned on, Brett nevertheless cocked his eyebrow in curiosity. “What are you doing?”

Sarah smiled flirtatiously “Just admiring the view.” She replied, her voice sultry. Her eyes locked onto his, a mischievous glint in them as she continued to explore his chest with her hand.

"What's gotten into you?" Brett asked, his voice low and husky.

"Does it matter?" Sarah replied, her voice dripping with seduction. "I think we're both enjoying it, don't you?"

Brett lifted a hand to her face, cupping it tenderly sending a shiver down Sarah’s spine. Her body was red hot with desire for him but a part of her still resisted, urging her to leave. The part of her that still held a candle for Franklin. However just as she was building up enough strength to pull away, Brett extinguished that candle with a kiss.

As their mouths moved together and their tongues entwined the transformation in Sarah surged. Her chest swelled even more, filling out her shirt to the point where it strained against the fabric. Her skin took on a golden tan, becoming flawless and radiant.

Makeup appeared on her face, enhancing her natural beauty with perfectly applied eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick. Her dull brown eyes became icy blue.

As Brett and Sasha continued their fervent kiss, a deeper transformation began to take hold. Sasha's mind started to shift, reshaping her thoughts and desires. The once fervent love for nerdy stuff like comics, video games, and sci-fi dissolved, replaced by an intense interest in makeup, jewelry, and fashionable clothes. The joy she once found in knowledge and creativity morphed into a fixation on beauty, status, and power.

Despite the heat of the moment, something in Sarah's mind was telling compelling her to open her eyes. When she did she finally saw out of the corner of her eye the idol. It's eyes glowing an ominous red. That's when she put two and two together.

The idol they had been using as a makeshift bottle was somehow turning the spinner’s target into the spinner’s perfect partner. She knew if she didn’t stop it soon she’d be forever changed, she'd no longer be the Sarah everyone knew. But she didn’t want to stop it now, she wanted more!

Her previous kindness and empathy were overwritten by a growing desire to be bad, to assert her dominance and superiority over others. She relished the idea of being a bully, of wielding her newfound beauty and charisma to get what she wanted, regardless of who she hurt in the process. The spark of cruelty in her eyes intensified, and she pulled away from Brett, looking at him with a newfound arrogance.

"My God Sarah...you're..." Brett said, his eyes wide with amazement at the complete transformation before him.

"Ah ah, call me Sasha, babe." She interrupted, a playful smile on her lips.

Brett nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. "Sasha... you're incredible."

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” She said with a devilish smile as she sunk to her knees and undid his belt. Brett's cock sprang eagerly out and Sasha's mouth began to water at the sight of it.

Wasting no time she wrapped her pink lips around it and started to suck. Brett groaned immediately as she worked his dick like a pro. She couldn't believe how good it tasted, she was going to enjoy doing this more often.

As she sucked her body continued to change. Her hair lightened, her pussy tightened, and her body became incredibly fit and flexible. It dawned on her that the other guys and girls that had been in there before them had only kissed, their passions fuelling the idol only so much and in turn their transformation. Sasha was now the hottest girl in school but she wasn't about to stop there.

Running her tongue up his shaft and hungrily swallowing his precum, Sasha pushed Brett against the wall of the closet, kissing him deeply.

"Fuck me babe, fuck me hard with your big dick! Rip off my panties and fuck me." She moaned in his ear. Brett expertly undid her now baggy jeans which slumped to her ankles. He did as she had asked and ripped her underwear off her in one clean tear. She giggled at the sight of his strength.

Her giggles soon turned into passionate moans as his dick slid easily into her wet pussy. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the idol's eyes bathed the two of them in red light.

Sasha’s tits grew even bigger, her lips plumped up and her skin became even softer and more tan. Even her clothes began to change. Her jeans seemed to turn to dust and blow away. Her nerdy shirt grew a little longer, darker, turning into a little black slutty dress. High expensive heels wrapped around her pedicured toes. She lifted herself onto Brett and wrapped her sleek legs around him.

“Mmmm yessss baby, fuck what little of the nerd I used to be out of me! Oh god, I’m going to cum!” Sasha whined as Brett pounded her pussy over and over until a wave of pleasure washed over both of them as they both climaxed.

“Oh my god Sasha you’re perfect.“ Brett managed to say as her lifted her gently back down onto her feet.

Sasha pressed herself against him, her body warm and inviting. "You’re not so bad yourself stud." She purred.

Sasha smirked, reveling in her new identity. She straightened her dress and admired her reflection in the mirror, her thoughts centered on her own beauty and power.

Sasha and Brett emerged from the closet, hand in hand, their faces glowing with a shared and inexplicable infatuation. Franklin and Kayla stared at the pair in stunned silence.

Kayla, her face twisting with anger and jealousy, stepped forward. “What the hell Brett? I thought all those sounds we heard was a joke!”

Sasha grinned triumphantly as she squeezed on Brett’s arm, ignoring the glare from Kayla. Kayla however grabbed Sasha and pulled her from her embrace.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing slut, but get your hands off my man!” Kayla snarled.

Sasha laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the room. “Bitch, you’re yesterday’s trash.” With a swift, calculated move, she grabbed Kayla’s hair and yanked it hard, causing her to yelp in pain and fall to her knees.

Relishing her power, Sasha pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Franklin. “That’s your man now.” She declared with a smirk.

Kayla’s eyes filled with fury and confusion as she looked at Franklin, who seemed equally bewildered. Sasha turned her attention to Franklin, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and amusement. “Spin the idol, Franklin.”

Brett tossed the idol to Franklin who put it on the ground and gave the idol a spin. As it slowed, Sasha maneuvered Kayla to make sure she was in its path.

Sasha’s grin widened. “Looks like it’s your turn, Kayla. Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven.” She said and pushed Kayla toward the closet, the look in her eyes daring her to protest.

Reluctantly, Kayla stepped into the closet with Franklin following suit, clutching the idol. Sasha slammed the door behind them and Brett propped a chair up to seal them in.

Brett pulled Sasha close, his hands resting on her waist. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day when little nerdy Sarah would turn into such a knockout bitch.” He said with a smirk.

Sasha chuckled, running her fingers through Brett’s hair. “And I never thought I’d find myself attracted to a mean guy like you, Brett. Funny how things change, huh?”

Brett leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “So, what’s the plan now babe? You going to take over the whole school?”

Sasha grinned, her eyes gleaming with ambition. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be the queen bee, and no one’s going to stand in my way. Not Kayla, not anyone.”

Brett’s smirk widened. “I like the sound of that. And I’ll be right by your side, making sure no one forgets who’s in charge.”

Sasha leaned in for another kiss, savoring the power she felt in Brett’s arms. “Oh fuck you make me so wet you hawt bastard. Come on, lets go upstairs so you can fuck my brains out some more.” She grinned as she pulled him towards the stairs.

"What about those two?" Brett said half heartedly as he gestured a thumb at the closet.

"Leave them. The longer they are in there the more dorky Kayla will become. Taking her place as the queen bee will be a cake walk." Sasha smirked as she led Brett up and out of the basement.

[ironpatriot2099]

Always hide your history

In the quiet suburb of Willow Creek, there lived a girl named Luna. She was a quirky young woman with a penchant for anime and manga that often had her nose buried in a book or glued to a screen. Her room was a shrine to her favourite characters, posters plastered on the walls, plushies piled high on her bed, and figurines lining the shelves. Luna had a soft spot for the underdogs, the misunderstood heroes with hearts of gold. She saw herself in them, a kind soul in a world that didn't always get her. Her bright blue hair, which she dyed herself in the bathroom sink, was a declaration of her unique spirit. It was a stark contrast to the sea of sameness that washed over the neighbourhood.

Luna had been dating her high school sweetheart, Tim, for the past two years. He was a nice guy, the kind that opens doors and says "please" and "thank you." They had a comfortable relationship, but lately, she had been feeling a void she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was like a dull ache in her chest that grew sharper with every mundane date night spent watching movies she didn't really care about and sharing popcorn that tasted like cardboard.

One fateful afternoon, while Tim was out playing video games with his friends, Luna stumbled upon his internet history. Her curiosity piqued by the unusual search terms, she clicked on one of the links. What she found was a world of leather-clad biker babes, tattoos, and motorcycles that roared like beasts. The shock hit her like a punch to the gut. Her boyfriend, the same one who had held her hand through countless episodes of love is war was into something so...so...unexpected.

Her eyes scanned the screen, widening at the explicit images. Biker babes with curves like mountain ranges and skin-tight leather that left nothing to the imagination. The more she saw, the more she realized she didn't know Tim at all. His secret desires painted a picture of a man she had never met, a man who craved a wild side she didn't even know existed. Her mind raced with questions, but one thought stood out like neon in the dark: if that's what he wants, why isn't he with someone like that?

Her reflection in the computer screen stared back at her, a girl lost in a sea of pixels and doubt. Luna clicked off the tab and took a deep breath. The quiet hum of the computer was the only sound in the room, echoing her own turmoil. She stood up, her legs wobbly, and took in her own image in the full-length mirror by the door. Her usual schoolgirl outfit looked so...ordinary. So unexciting.

Her thoughts grew wild, like a garden left untended. Could she become one of those biker babes? Could she unleash a new version of herself that Tim would crave? An idea began to bloom in her mind, one that seemed both terrifying and thrilling at the same time. She decided to start small, swapping her oversized sweatshirt for a tight tank top and a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass. She had the curves; she just needed to show them off.

Luna's transformation was like watching a caterpillar become a butterfly, except it was more like a nerdy caterpillar turning into a slutty moth. She practiced pouting in the mirror, her full lips curling up at the edges in a way she had never done before. She watched YouTube tutorials on makeup and hair, learning to accentuate her features and give herself the edgy look that seemed to be all the rage in Tim's secret world.

Her first trip to the mall was a revelation. She felt like a spy in enemy territory as she navigated the racks of leather and lace. The tight dresses and skirts whispered promises of power and attention, and she couldn't resist their siren call. Her wallet lighter, she left with a bag full of clothes that made her heart race and her cheeks burn.

Days turned into weeks, and Luna's metamorphosis grew more pronounced. She traded her glasses for contacts, swapping her frumpy sweaters for tight-fitting tops that showcased her ample cleavage. Her once shy demeanor gave way to a sassy confidence that had heads turning and whispers following her wherever she went. She practiced her strut, her hips swaying with an unmistakable allure, and her voice dropped an octave to a sultry purr that made men's knees wobble.

Tim noticed the changes in Luna, his eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. He couldn't get enough of her new look, his compliments growing more frequent and more intense. He took her to biker bars and bike shows, where the scent of gasoline and leather mingled with the smoke of cigarettes and the purr of revving engines. Luna felt alive, the vibrations of the bikes resonating through her body like a bass line to a rock anthem.

But the more she delved into this world, the more she realized it wasn't just about the look. It was about the lifestyle, the danger, the thrill of the chase. The biker babes she saw didn't just wear the outfits; they lived the life. They had bad boy bikers wrapped around their fingers, men with tattoos that told stories of rebellion and hearts that beat to the rhythm of freedom. And the more she saw of them, the more she understood that Tim was just a tourist in this world, not a true inhabitant.

Her thoughts grew more intense, the need for a real man, a man with a monster cock, gnawing at her. She craved the feeling of being taken, claimed, and filled by someone who knew what it meant to live on the edge. Her dreams grew more vivid, starring bikers with hard abs and rough hands that knew just how to make her scream. She needed that kind of man to complete her transformation, to show her the kind of pleasure she had only read about in the pages of her books.

One evening, as she was leaving a particularly raunchy bike show, a shadow fell over her. She looked up to find a towering figure, a biker with a grin that could make a saint sweat. His eyes, dark as the night, twinkled with mischief, and she could see the promise of something wild in their depths. His name was Rex, and he was everything Tim wasn't. He had tattoos that snaked up his arms like vines, a beard that was more bristle than hair, and a cockiness that screamed "bad boy." Luna felt a jolt of electricity run through her as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "You're new around here, sweetheart," he drawled. "You need someone to show you the ropes."

Her heart racing, she nodded, unable to find her voice. Rex's hand found hers, his grip firm and commanding. He led her through the sea of bikes and people, his calloused hand a stark contrast to her soft, unblemished skin. They stopped at his bike, a beast of chrome and black that roared to life with a flick of his wrist. She straddled the seat behind him, her heart hammering in her chest as he revved the engine. The vibration traveled through her body, pulsing in time with her need.

As they sped through the night, the wind whipping her hair into a frenzy, Luna felt a strange sense of belonging. This was what she had been craving, the raw power and excitement that Tim could never give her. When they pulled up to a grungy biker bar, the smell of leather and lust hit her like a wall. Inside, the air was thick with the promise of unbridled passion and rebellion. Rex guided her to a corner booth, his hand possessive on her waist.

He ordered them drinks, his eyes never leaving hers as she sipped the amber liquid. It burned her throat, but she liked it. It made her feel alive. His gaze was intense, like a predator sizing up its prey, and she shivered with anticipation. He leaned in, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of heat through her body. "You've got a sweet little body, Luna," he said, his hand sliding up her thigh. "But I bet that tight pussy of yours has never been stretched by a real man."

Her cheeks flushed at his crude words, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice a seductive whisper. "What do you mean?"

Rex's grin grew wider, his teeth gleaming in the dim bar light. "You know what I mean," he said, his hand inching higher up her thigh. "You're dressed like a biker babe, but you still got that innocent look in your eyes. I bet you've never had a real man fuck you like you need to be fucked."

Luna's breath hitched, her body responding to his words like a well-tuned instrument. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes flicking down to the bulge in his pants. She had read about this, had seen it in the pages of her manga, but never experienced it. She had always been the good girl, the one who played it safe. But now, with Rex's hand on her, she wanted to know what it felt like to be taken, to be claimed by someone who knew what they were doing.

The music in the bar grew louder, the bass thumping in time with her racing heart. She could feel the eyes of the other bikers on her, a mix of lust and challenge. They knew she didn't belong here, but she didn't care. She wanted to be part of this world, to feel the rush of adrenaline and the heat of passion that seemed to be baked into the very air. Rex leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "You want to know what it's like, don't you?"

Luna nodded, unable to form words as his hand moved to the zipper of her skirt. He slid it down, the leather whispering against her skin as it fell to the floor. She stepped out of it, feeling the coolness of the concrete floor under her heels. His eyes raked over her, taking in her lacy lingerie, and she felt a thrill of power. This was what she had become, a creature of desire, a biker bimbo ready to be claimed by the biggest, baddest dick around.

Rex stood, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. He reached down, wrapping a hand around her throat, and pulled her to her feet. She gasped, her pulse racing as he led her through the crowded bar, his grip tight. The other bikers parted for them, their eyes glued to Luna's exposed body. She felt like a prize on display, and she liked it. She craved the raw, animalistic desire in their gazes.

In the back of the bar, there was a room with a heavy door. Rex pushed her through it, and she stumbled into a dimly lit space that smelled of sweat and sex. The walls were lined with leather benches, and there was a mattress on the floor, stained with a history she didn't dare to think about. He sat her down, his hand sliding up her chest to cup her breast. "You're mine now, babe," he growled, his thumb brushing over her nipple.

Luna looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. She had never been with anyone other than Tim, and the thought of Rex's massive cock filling her was both terrifying and exhilarating. She felt like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to resist the allure of the danger that danced in his eyes.

Rex noticed her apprehension and took it as a challenge. He smirked, his calloused hands reaching for the hem of her top. He yanked it over her head, exposing her ample breasts to the cool air. They bounced slightly, the lacy bra barely containing them. He leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over her skin as he whispered, "You're going to love it, baby. You're going to love how a real man makes you feel."

Her heart pounding, Luna could feel the anticipation building in the pit of her stomach. She had read about this in her manga, the moment where the heroine gives in to her desires and finds her true self. She wanted to be that girl, the one who didn't just read about wild sex, but lived it. And as Rex's rough hands unclipped her bra, letting her breasts spill out, she knew that she was on the precipice of something she could never go back from

He took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes drinking in her exposed flesh like a man dying of thirst. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. His hands slid down her torso, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a swift tug, he pulled them down, leaving her bare and vulnerable before him. She shivered, her legs parting slightly as if inviting him in.

Rex stepped back, his gaze raking over her body like a painter admiring his canvas. He unbuckled his belt, the leather jingling like a cowboy's spurs, and his pants fell to the floor, revealing the monster cock she had been fantasizing about. It stood proud and thick, a testament to his virility. The sight of it made Luna's mouth water, her pussy clenching in anticipation.

He wasted no time, pushing her down onto the mattress and spreading her legs wide. She felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against her entrance, and she gasped as he pushed in, filling her completely. He fucked her with a ferocity that left her gasping for air, his hips pistoning as he claimed her over and over again. She had never felt so full, so alive. The pain was a distant memory, replaced by a pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable.

Her nails dug into the mattress as he pounded into her, her body responding to his every command. Her moans grew louder, echoing through the room like a siren's call. She could feel her orgasm building, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. And when it finally hit, it was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her body arched off the bed, her toes curling as she screamed his name, her pussy clenching around his cock in a desperate attempt to hold onto the feeling.

Rex chuckled, his strokes slowing as he enjoyed the sight of her quivering beneath him. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "You're a natural."

Luna lay there, her body a trembling mess, as Rex pulled out of her. She felt empty, used, and absolutely amazing. Her pussy was stretched and sore, leaking cum like a river after a storm. She had never felt so alive, so...desired. Rex rolled off her, his own chest heaving with exertion. He reached for his discarded shirt, wiping the sweat from his brow before turning to her with a grin. "Ready for round two?"

Her body screamed for a break, but she couldn't resist the challenge in his eyes. She nodded, a guttural moan escaping her lips as he slammed back into her. He was relentless, his monster cock pounding into her like a battering ram. The room was a blur of leather and chrome, the smell of sex and gasoline filling her nose. She was lost in the moment, her body no longer her own, but an instrument of pleasure for this bad boy biker.

Tim was a distant memory now, a forgotten toy from a childhood long past. She had tasted the life she truly craved, and it was nothing like the vanilla existence she had been living. With every thrust, she felt more and more like she belonged to the gang, like one of their biker bimbo conquests. Her mind was a whirlwind of sensation, the pain and pleasure blurring into a heavy cocktail that had her begging for more.

As Rex claimed her again and again, Luna could feel the walls of her old life crumbling around her. She was no longer the sweet, innocent girl who had stumbled upon Tim's internet history. She was a creature of the night, a biker's plaything, a slut eager to serve. The thought sent a thrill through her, making her pussy clench around his cock. She was theirs, a willing participant in their games of lust and power.

This was the story chose by Ironpatriot for winning the art competition

[ironpatriot2099]

The Couple’s Challenge: Samantha and Ben’s Story

This is a sequel of sorts to my previous The Couple's Challenge story. It's a new couple, but the same amusement part tent. This is the full story.

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Samantha and Ben walked through the amusement park, seeking refuge from the sweltering heat. As they approached a large, colorful tent with a sign that read “The Couple’s Challenge,” they noticed a striking couple exiting.

A woman strutted out of the tent, her skimpy outfit and confident swagger drawing the eyes of everyone around. Her tiny crop top barely covered her ample breasts, and her hot pants showcased her long, tanned legs. She walked with an air of arrogance, her hips swaying exaggeratedly with each step.

Beside her, the man’s muscular frame and swaggering walk made it clear he was more focused on checking out other women than his companion. His tight jersey shirt highlighted his broad shoulders and defined muscles.

The man’s gaze briefly landed on Sam before passing her over as “not his type.” The woman, flaunting her sexuality so blatantly, caught Ben’s attention, his eyes widening slightly at her bold display.

Sam raised an eyebrow and nudged Ben. “Looks like Barbie and Ken just left the building,” she quipped, her eyes following the woman’s exaggerated sway.

Ben chuckled, adjusting his messy hair. “Yeah, and here I thought this place was family-friendly. Guess not.”

The couple didn’t notice the commentary, too absorbed in their own world as they sauntered away, leaving a trail of whispers and stares behind them.

Sam sighed, fanning herself with one hand. “Ugh, it’s way too hot out here. Let’s go inside.”

“Agreed,” Ben said, holding open the flap of the tent. “Anything to escape this heat.”

They stepped inside, greeted by a blast of cool air and the whimsical décor of the tent’s interior. The playful, colorful surroundings seemed almost too inviting.

“Welcome to The Couple’s Challenge!” a cheerful voice called out. A man and woman approached, their smiles warm and welcoming.

“Hey,” Sam said, wiping sweat from her brow. “We’re just here to cool off for a bit.”

“No problem at all,” the woman replied with a wink. “Why not have some fun while you’re at it?”

Sam and Ben exchanged a look, their sarcasm briefly melting away. “Sure, why not?” Ben said, shrugging.

“Great!” the man said, clapping his hands together. “I’m Tom, and this is Lisa. Let’s get you started. Just a few questions, and you might learn something new about your partner.”

Sam raised a hand to interrupt. “Wait, just so you know, we’re not a couple. We’re just friends,” she clarified, glancing at Ben, who nodded in agreement.

Lisa’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh, that’s no problem at all. This challenge is fun for everyone, and who knows? Maybe you’ll discover things about each other you never knew.”

Tom nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. It’s all in good fun. So, are you both ready?”

Sam and Ben exchanged another look, their initial hesitation fading. “Why not?” Sam said with a grin.

“Sure, let’s do it,” Ben added, his curiosity piqued.

“Perfect,” Lisa said, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on in, and we’ll get you set up.”

Sam and Ben followed Tom and Lisa deeper into the tent, enjoying the cool air.

“Alright, let’s get this cute couple started,” Tom said as they reached the booths.

“Just friends,” Ben corrected with a smile.

“Of course, of course,” Lisa said, nodding. “Now, you two lovebirds hop into these booths, and we’ll begin.”

Sam rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Lovebirds. Right.”

Lisa grinned. “Alright, are you ready?”

Sam and Ben both shook their heads, smiling at each other. “Just friends,” they said in unison.

“Got it,” Tom said with a wink. “Boyfriend and girlfriend, into the booths!”

Sam and Ben exchanged amused looks as they stepped into the separate booths, the playful banter continuing to lighten the mood. 

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Ben settled into the booth, glancing around curiously as Lisa walked in with a playful smile. Ben, with his sandy blonde hair tousled in a boyish manner, had light blue eyes that always seemed to be twinkling with amusement. He wore a casual T-shirt and jeans, his lean and slightly lanky frame relaxed in the chair. A barista by profession, Ben was known for his quick wit and laid-back attitude. The braided bracelet on his wrist and the slightly worn sneakers completed his effortless, carefree look.

“Alright, Ben, ready to get started?” Lisa asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Ben chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Sure, hit me with it.”

Lisa flipped through her clipboard. “First question: What would Sam prefer to do on a weekend? A) Go to a book club meeting, B) Attend a yoga retreat, C) Go to a concert, or D) Join a motorcycle rally?”

Ben laughed, shaking his head. “Easy. Sam’s all about her book club. She’s always reading something new.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, giving him a sly smile. “Are you sure?”

Ben paused, glancing over at the monitor showing Sam. She looked thoughtful, her usual demeanor, but something made him hesitate. “Well, she does like live music… Maybe she’d enjoy a concert.”

Lisa nodded, marking down his answer. “Concert it is. Let’s see how well you know your girlfriend.”

“Just friends,” Ben corrected, grinning.

“Sure, sure,” Lisa said with a wink. “Next question coming up!”

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Sam settled into her booth, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She was a petite brunette with chestnut brown hair tied back in a neat ponytail, and hazel eyes. Dressed in a light summer dress with floral patterns and comfortable sandals, she looked every bit the sweet, thoughtful elementary school teacher she was. A simple necklace adorned her neck, and her natural beauty shone through her minimal makeup.

Tom walked in with a cheerful smile. “Alright, Sam, ready for your first question?”

Sam nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. “Sure, let’s get this over with.”

Tom glanced at his clipboard. “First question: What’s Ben’s ideal way to spend an evening? A) Working out at the gym, B) Reading a good book, C) Playing video games, or D) Going for a bike ride?”

Sam frowned, thinking hard. “Ben’s always been a fan of staying active. He likes to stay fit. I’d say going for a bike ride.”

As she considered her answer, a subtle transformation began. Her light summer dress started to morph into a tight, black tank top with edgy, graphic designs. Her comfortable sandals shifted into worn combat boots, laced tightly up her calves. Her chestnut brown hair, once tied back in a neat ponytail, loosened and took on a darker, more rebellious hue, falling in wild waves around her shoulders. Her simple necklace turned into a choker with metallic spikes, and heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick appeared on her face, giving her a bold, fierce look.

Unaware of the changes happening to her appearance, Sam’s demeanor also began to shift. Her posture relaxed into a more casual, confident slouch, and a new edge crept into her voice. “Actually, come to think of it, he’s been getting more into the outdoors lately. Yeah, he’d totally go for a bike ride.”

Tom nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Bike ride it is. Let’s see how well you know your partner.”

“Just friends,” Sam corrected, though her tone now carried a hint of defiance.

Tom winked. “Of course, just friends. Next question coming right up!”

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Ben settled back into his booth, his demeanor still relaxed but with a growing hint of swagger. Lisa entered with a playful smile, her eyes twinkling as she flipped through her clipboard.

“Alright, Ben, ready for your next question?” she asked, her voice cheerful.

“Bring it on,” Ben said, his grin widening.

Lisa leaned in slightly. “What type of outfit do you think Sam would look hottest in? A) A librarian outfit, B) A yoga ensemble, C) A little black dress, or D) Leather pants and a crop top?”

Ben chuckled, the thought amusing him. “Sam’s always joked about rocking a little black dress. So, I’d say that.” He paused, glancing at the monitor showing Sam in her new edgy look—tight black tank top, worn combat boots, and dark rebellious hair.

As he considered his answer, something about Sam’s appearance and his shifting personality made him hesitate. For a moment, he could see her differently, her edgy new look stirring an unexpected attraction. “Actually,” he said, rubbing his growing stubble thoughtfully, “I think she’d look good in a yoga ensemble. She’s got that fit look.”

He stared at the monitor a bit longer, a sudden fantasy popping into his mind—Sam looking hot in leather pants and a crop top, exuding confidence and allure. She gave him a seductive wink, her eyes filled with a playful, sexual promise. The thought was new to Ben, surprising him, but it also felt oddly welcome. “But now that I think about it, she’d look pretty hot in leather pants and a crop top.”

As Ben confirmed his answer, his casual T-shirt began to transform into a sleeveless leather vest adorned with patches and studs. His jeans took on a more rugged, worn appearance. A stubble beard appeared on his face, adding to his evolving rough-around-the-edges look.

His attitude subtly shifted, adopting a more laid-back, rebellious tone. He leaned back in his chair, the leather vest fitting him perfectly, and smirked. “Yeah, definitely the leather and crop top.”

Lisa smiled, marking down his answer. “Leather pants and crop top, got it. Let’s see how your girlfriend—”

“Just friends,” Ben corrected, though with less insistence this time. A part of him started to like the idea.

“Right, just friends,” Lisa said with a wink. “Let’s see how she feels about that.”

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Sam settled back into her booth, her demeanor noticeably different. She seemed jittery with energy, an edge to her personality that wasn’t there before. Tom walked in with a cheerful smile, clipboard in hand.

“Alright, Sam, how are you feeling so far?” Tom asked.

Sam shifted in her seat, her eyes darting around. “Good, I guess. Let’s just get on with it.”

Tom nodded. “So, you’re an elementary school teacher, right? Always been your dream?”

“Yeah, it’s always been my dream,” Sam began, but then she started to change further. Her tight black tank top morphed into a leather crop top, and her jeans transformed into tight leather pants. Tattoos began to form on her arms and shoulders, intricate designs snaking across her skin. Her hair gained colorful highlights, streaks of vibrant red and blue appearing amidst the dark waves. Her attitude shifted, becoming more rebellious and carefree.

“Yeah, those little fuckers can be a handful, but a job’s a job,” she added, her tone now dripping with sarcasm and a hint of disdain.

Tom raised an eyebrow but kept his professional demeanor. “Interesting perspective, Sam.”

He flipped to the next question on his clipboard. “So, what do you think is Ben’s best physical feature? A) His eyes, B) His smile, C) His build, or D) His hands?”

Sam considered for a moment, her new edgy persona fully taking over. She smirked, her eyes narrowing mischievously. “His build, for sure. He’s got that lean, wiry strength, but he could definitely bulk up a bit more.”

Tom noted her answer with a satisfied nod. “Alright, build it is. Let’s see how your partner feels about that.”

As Tom called Ben her partner, Sam felt an unexpected jolt of sexual energy surge through her. The thought of Ben, with his new rugged and muscular physique, stirred something within her. She squirmed slightly in her seat, her rebellious new persona making her more vocal about her desires.

“Just friends,” she muttered, but the words felt less convincing now. Her eyes glinted with a mischievous spark as she added, “Though I have to admit, he does make me a bit…horny.”

Tom raised an eyebrow but kept his professional demeanor. “Of course,” he said with a wink. “Ready for the next question?”

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Back in Ben’s booth, Lisa watched with interest as his transformation continued. Ben’s lean frame started to stretch, growing taller and bulkier. His muscles bulged, his arms thickening, and his chest broadening. His casual clothes had fully transformed into a sleeveless leather vest and rugged jeans, but now a slight beer belly began to form, giving him a rougher, more seasoned look. 

His demeanor shifted as well. His speech became gruffer, and he started speaking in short, clipped sentences, embodying a man of few words but plenty of action. His eyes carried a newfound intensity, and his attraction to Sam grew more palpable, his thoughts filled with an unexpected, fiery desire for her. The leather vest clung to his broad chest, and his “package” became more prominent, something Lisa couldn’t help but notice.

“Alright, Ben,” Lisa said, her voice steady as she watched his transformation. “Next question. What do you think Sam’s wildest fantasy is? A) Going on a shopping spree, B) Traveling to exotic places, C) Having a passionate romance, or D) Living life on the edge, taking risks and embracing the wild side?”

Ben’s eyes darkened with a mix of desire and a new-found edge. He barely needed to think. “Living life on the edge. She’s always been a bit of a wild child.”

Lisa smiled, marking down his answer. “Living on the edge, huh? Sounds like your girlfriend knows how to have fun.”

Ben’s lips curled into a smirk. “Just friends,” he muttered, though the words felt more like an afterthought. He was already imagining Sam as his wild, adventurous rock chick, and the thought made his heart race.

As he confirmed his answer, Ben grew even more rugged. His muscles became more defined, his beer belly more pronounced, and his entire presence exuded a rough, masculine energy. His eyes flickered with lustful thoughts of Sam, his desire for her becoming more intense.

Lisa’s eyes twinkled as she observed the changes. “Alright, Ben. Let’s see how your wild child friend feels about that.”

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Sam sat in her booth, her transformation accelerating. She was jittery with energy, her leather crop top and pants hugging her curves as if they were made for her. Tattoos sprawled across her arms, and her hair, streaked with vibrant red and blue highlights, framed her face in wild waves. Her eyes held a reckless, untamed gleam, and her body language was a mix of defiant confidence and raw emotion, ready to burst into action at any moment.

As she fidgeted in her seat, she felt a strange pressure in her chest. Gradually, the sensation grew stronger, and she watched in awe as her breasts began to swell. Two silicone implants formed, causing her to have round, full breasts that sat high and firm under her crop top. The tight leather material accentuated her new curves, emphasizing her transformed, seductive appearance.

Sam looked down at herself, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She felt powerful, sexy, and completely in control of her newfound identity. Her confidence soared, her body now a perfect reflection of her wild, untamed spirit. She adjusted her posture, arching her back slightly to enhance her new curves, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of excitement and defiance.

Tom observed her with a professional demeanor but couldn’t help noticing the changes. “Alright, Sam, let’s move on to the next question. You seem really energetic today.”

Sam’s eyes darted around, her body practically vibrating with pent-up energy. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, her voice rising. Her eyes narrowed with sudden fury. “You think I’m too much to handle or something?”

Tom raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No, no, I just meant you have a lot of energy, that’s all.”

Sam’s anger flared, her face contorting with rage. She slammed her hand on the table, leaning forward aggressively. “Don’t you dare patronize me! I’ll show you just how much energy I’ve got!”

Tom took a step back, maintaining his calm. “I’m sorry, Sam. That’s not what I meant. Let’s just move on to the next question, okay?”

Sam’s rage subsided as quickly as it had flared, and she leaned back, a wild smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just ask the damn question.”

Tom cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “What is Ben like in a group setting? A) A quiet observer, B) A follower, C) The leader, or D) The dominant alpha?”

Sam’s eyes darted around, her body still buzzing with leftover adrenaline. “The dominant alpha,” she said without hesitation. “Ben’s always been the one who can take charge, you know?” She shifted in her seat, her voice growing more animated. “He’s not just smart; he knows how to get shit done.”

She suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with intensity. “But you know what? Sometimes I just wanna see him take control. Like, really show who’s boss.” Her voice dropped to a sultry tone, her desire for Ben evident. “He could totally handle me.”

Tom raised an eyebrow but kept his professional demeanor. “Interesting. So, you’d say he’s the dominant alpha in a group setting?”

Sam’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Yeah, definitely. And it’s hot as hell.”

Tom noted her answer, aware of the growing intensity in her demeanor. “Alright, dominant alpha it is. Let’s see how your partner feels about that.”

Sam’s demeanor shifted again, a sudden burst of laughter escaping her lips. “Partner, huh? You know, it’s funny—thinking of him that way makes me…crazy.” Her eyes gleamed with a mix of wild excitement and unrestrained lust. “I mean, I could just jump him right now, or maybe start a fight, or hell, throw a party. Anything can happen, right?”

Tom nodded, marking down her answer. “Of course. Just friends, though, right?”

Sam’s laughter was louder this time, almost manic. “Yeah, just friends. But who knows? Maybe not for long.”

As she spoke, her body seemed to pulse with raw energy, ready to explode into action at the slightest provocation. She was a creature of pure emotion and little control, a loose cannon waiting for the right moment to unleash her wild ways.

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Back in Ben’s booth, the transformation was complete. He now exuded an aura of dominant confidence, both mentally and physically in control. His rugged appearance, complete with bulging muscles and a slight beer belly, commanded attention and respect. Lisa, unable to help herself, felt an instinctive submission to his presence.

Lisa, now meek and deferential, approached Ben with a hint of nervousness. “Alright, Ben, this is your final question,” she said, her voice soft. “Who is Sam to you?”

Ben’s eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the question. He could feel the power and confidence surging through him, every part of him embracing his new role. His thoughts turned to Sam, wild and untamed, and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Sam is my wild equal,” he declared, his voice deep and commanding. “The only person who can even come close to challenging me. She’s my partner, my lover, my everything.”

Lisa shivered slightly at the intensity of his words, quickly marking down his answer. “Thank you, Ben,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ben stood up from the booth, his imposing figure towering over Lisa. He looked at her with a mix of satisfaction and authority, knowing that he had fully embraced his new identity.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Lisa nodded quickly, leading him towards the lobby to reunite with Sam. She couldn’t shake the feeling of awe and submission that Ben’s presence commanded, her mind racing with the changes that had occurred.

As they walked towards the lobby, Ben’s thoughts were filled with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to see Sam, knowing that together they were an unstoppable force, ready to take on anything the world threw at them.

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Back in Sam’s booth, Tom was on edge, careful not to set her off again. He observed her with a mix of caution and curiosity, ready to ask the final question. Sam’s wild energy was palpable, and every movement she made seemed to pulse with unrestrained emotion.

Tom cleared his throat, keeping his voice steady. “Alright, Sam, this is your final question. Who is Ben to you?”

Sam’s eyes lit up, her expression shifting through a gambit of emotions. “He’s my king,” she said in awe, her voice filled with reverence. 

Her demeanor changed instantly, becoming seductive and sultry. “He is my pleasure,” she purred, her eyes half-lidded with desire.

Then, her tone took on a note of confident command. “He is my world,” she declared, her posture exuding dominance and certainty.

Finally, her face twisted with sudden anger. “And he is waiting for me, so get out of my way,” she snapped, her voice sharp and fierce.

Tom took a step back, quickly marking down her answer. “Alright, Sam. Thank you for that. Let’s get you back to the lobby.”

Sam stood up, her eyes blazing with intensity. She was a creature of pure emotion, every step she took charged with purpose. Tom guided her towards the lobby, careful to stay out of her way.

As they approached the lobby, the anticipation in the air was thick. Sam could feel her heart pounding, her thoughts consumed with the image of Ben. She knew that together, they were an unstoppable force, ready to take on anything the world threw at them.

Tom opened the door to the lobby, and Sam stepped through, her eyes immediately seeking out Ben.

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Sam exited the booth, her eyes immediately locking onto Ben across the lobby. Her heart raced, and a manic energy surged through her. With a wild gleam in her eyes, she ran towards him, her emotions a chaotic whirlwind of excitement and desire.

“Ben!” she shouted, her voice filled with raw emotion. “I’ve been eager to get to you!”

Ben stood there, his imposing figure exuding dominance and confidence. As Sam approached, he opened his arms, ready to catch her. She leaped into his embrace, wrapping herself around him. Ben lifted her effortlessly, his strong arms holding her securely.

Without a second thought, Sam pressed her lips against his in a passionate, unrestrained kiss. They kissed deeply, their bodies entwined, oblivious to anyone else in the lobby.

Sam’s fingers tangled in Ben’s hair as she clung to him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Ben’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her even closer. Their kiss was fierce, a mix of wild passion and unyielding strength. 

Their kiss broke apart momentarily. “You make me so hot,” Sam announced loudly. “Take me somewhere and fuck me hard.  I need your massive cock inside of me.”

Onlookers couldn’t help but stare as Sam grabbed Ben’s crotch to emphasize her point, but Sam and Ben were lost in their own world.

[ironpatriot2099]

Now I want to see how Ally is corrupted by being inside Amber's body.

Two Counts of Possession

“I don’t know about this Ned, do you think this will work?” Ally whispered in the library to her boyfriend as he pulled out the old book that had found in the stacks.

“It’s the perfect moment. Amber has just moved schools ending her relationship with Chase. He's vulnerable and single. Using the spell I found I can possess his body and start dating you as him. It elevates your status so much that when you eventually dump him and date me again we’ll both be high status.” Ned said confidently but Ally wasn’t so convinced.

“But Chase is such a jocky bully. I like my men sweet & kind.” She said with a smile as she squeezed Ned’s hand.

“I know honey but this will give us both a better life. Trust me.” Ned said imploring his girlfriend.

“Ok fine but can it just be for a week? I don’t think I could stand longer than that.” Ally replied.

Ned nodded, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Just a week. That’s all we need. Now, let’s begin. I want to get him before lunch starts.”

"Won't he be pissed when he finds out what you did?" Ally asked as he opened the book, its ancient pages crackling under his fingers.

"Well that's why I was wearing that expensive watch all week. I knew he'd take it from me eventually and now he wears it all the time to taunt me. But jokes on him as it's a kind of tether for me to latch onto." Ned said as he skimmed through the pages to find the spell.

"It'll allow me to retain my memories. He doesn't have that luxury so when we swap souls he'll think he's me. He'll have my memories, my thoughts, my everything. When we switch back he won't remember a thing." He said finally finding the spell.

He began chanting the incantation, his voice steady and low. A strange energy filled the room, swirling around them like an invisible storm. Ally watched, her heart pounding, as a glowing light enveloped Ned. Then, with a final word, the light burst forth, and Ned’s head slumped onto the table.

Ned’s spirit shot across the school like a comet, an invisible force propelled by the ancient magic. He spotted Chase in the gym, sweat glistening on his muscular frame as he pounded the punching bag with relentless fury.

With a final push, Ned plunged into Chase’s body. For a moment, everything went dark, and then he was hit with an overwhelming rush of sensations. Strength surged through his limbs, and he could feel the powerful muscles tensing and relaxing with each breath. The weight of Chase’s confidence and charisma settled over him like a second skin.

Ned blinked, adjusting to the new perspective. The gym felt different, brighter, louder. People glanced his way, their admiration palpable. He smirked, flexing his new muscles, and felt a thrill of excitement. This was it. This was power.

Ned pulled out Chase’s phone and texted Ally: “It worked. Is he awake yet?”

He waited, feeling the buzz of the phone in his large hand. It felt strange but thrilling to use this new body, so powerful and admired. A moment later, Ally’s reply came: “Yes, he’s here. He’s acting like you.”

Ned grinned, the plan was working perfectly. He quickly typed back, “Perfect. Now put the book back in the spot I found it and meet me in the cafeteria. You know what to do then.”

Ally replied almost immediately, “Got it. I’m nervous but I’ll do it.”

Ned took a deep breath, feeling the strength in his lungs. He was ready for this. He swaggered through the halls of the school, students glancing his way, some with admiration, others with jealousy. It felt intoxicating. He was no longer the nerdy outcast. He was the king of the school.

As he approached the cafeteria, he saw Ally sitting with 'Ned.' She looked up, their eyes met, and she gave a small nod. It was time.

Ned watched as Ally started to say something to 'Ned', he watched the confusion in his face. He pleaded, begging her. Ally played it perfectly, stone faced. What happened next drew the attention of everyone in the cafeteria.

"Ugh get away from me! I said it's over!" Ally said loudly on purpose to draw as many eyes to what was happening. A hush fell over the crowd as heads turned, eager to witness the unfolding drama.

"Please don't do this!" 'Ned' pleaded.

“Ugh don’t you get it you… you loser. We’re through!” Ally said, her tone firm. Ned watched with pride as Ally expertly performed as practiced.

“I need a real man, and not some boy!” She yelled. The crowd burst out into an ‘oooohhhhs’ as if they were on Jerry Springer.

With that, she turned and walked away. The entire room watched, riveted, as she made her way to where Chase stood waiting. The air was thick with anticipation.

As Ally reached him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Without hesitation, he planted a big, passionate kiss on her lips. The cafeteria erupted in shocked exclamations and woos.

The kiss was intense, a public declaration that left no room for doubt. When they finally pulled apart, Ally looked pissed, her eyes burning with a fire Ned had rarely seen. But she put on a fake smile for the crowd as she led him away by the hand.

As they found a quiet corner away from prying eyes, Ally broke away from Chase's hand, her face flushed with annoyance. “We didn’t agree for you to kiss me there and then!” She snapped, crossing her arms.

Ned smirked arrogantly. “But I couldn’t help it, babe. The people wanted to see it and I wanted to do it!” He said, his voice dripping with Chase's confident swagger.

Ally opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, a trio of rich, bitchy cheerleaders sauntered up to them. They were Amber's old friends: Vanessa, Bianca, and Tiffany.

Ally expected some cutting words from them but as Vanessa flipped her hair and smiled at Ally, it was clear this wouldn’t be her usual bullying experience.

“That was brutal, Ally. We loved it.” She said, her voice filled with admiration.

“Dumping Ned like that in front of everyone? Queen like behaviour.” Bianca said nodding, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Seriously, girl, that was wicked. Finally showing everyone you deserve better. Welcome to the top tier.” Tiffany said putting a perfectly manicured hand on her shoulder.

Ally blinked, taken aback by the unexpected praise. “Really? You mean it? Well thanks, I guess.” She said, her voice tinged with both hope and caution. She knew how fake these girls could be, and she was on guard for the moment the facade might drop.

Tiffany turned to 'Chase' with a playful grin. “Chase, can we borrow your new girlfriend for a bit?”

“Yeah, we want to get to know this new badass babe.” Vanessa said chiming in

Ned, still riding the high of his newfound status, shrugged with a cocky smile. “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t keep her too long. I might miss her.”

The girls giggled and linked arms with Ally, leading her away. “So what is Ally short for anyway?” Tiffany asked.

“Oh it’s Alexis but I never really like that name.” Ally said as they lead her to the locker rooms.

“Alexis? That’s a gorgeous name! Why don’t you use it?” Vanessa said. Bianca nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Alexis sounds so much hotter and sexier.”

Tiffany gave Ally a thoughtful look. “Seriously, you should reconsider. Alexis suits you much more.”

Ally blushed, considering their words. “You really think so?”

“Well maybe not this second but you will soon.” Tiffany said with a knowing smile as she approached a locker Ally knew to be Amber's old one. Opening the door, clothes cascaded out onto the ground.

The girls exchanged knowing glances and giggled. Vanessa stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you’re going to be dating Chase, you need to dress the part.”

Ally’s eyes widened as she took in the assortment of high-end clothes. Dresses, skirts, tops, all in the latest styles and trends. “Are you sure about this?”

Vanessa pulled out Amber's head cheerleader outfit and held it up. “Absolutely. You’re with Chase now, which means you are high status. You belong on the cheerleading team!”

The girls giggled and started pulling Ally's clothes off of her. Ally smiled and let it happen even if there was a sense of dread rising in her. She didn't know why but something about all this worried her.

---

As lunch was coming to a close 'Chase' started to worry about the whereabouts of his new girlfriend. He knew the other 3 girls could be bitches but could they sabotage his plan so soon? Just as he was deciding whether to leave and go find her, the doors of the cafeteria swung open and in walked Bianca, Tiffany, Vanessa and a new girl he didn't recognize at first.

As Ally walked over to 'Chase', the trio of girls following close behind, the entire cafeteria watched in stunned silence. Ally's brown hair was gone, replaced with blonde flowing locks. Her slim body was wearing the tight trademark cheerleading uniform of the school. The perfectly applied makeup on her face was so captivating that it took Ned a second to realise she wasn't wearing her glasses. She moved with a confidence that demanded attention. The girls around her smirked in approval, amplifying Ally's elevated status.

Ally sauntered up to Chase, her eyes sparkling with mischief he had never seen before. She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a dazzling smile. “Miss me?” she asked playfully.

“More than you know.” He replied, pulling her into a confident embrace. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks to my girls.” She said, glancing back at her new friends with gratitude.

“Let’s get out of here, baby. There’s something I want to give you,” Ally said, biting her lip playfully. She winked at her new friends as she led him away to a secluded spot.

As soon as they were out of sight, Ally jumped him, pressing her body against his and kissing him passionately. Ned responded eagerly, but he couldn’t shake a nagging doubt. He pulled back slightly and asked, “I thought it was too soon for kissing?”

“Plans change, people change. In fact, I have a confession, baby." Ally smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"I’m not actually Ally. I’m Amber.” She said putting her arms in the air as if she were declaring the end of a magic trick.

Ned froze. He stepped back, confusion and disbelief written all over his face. “What do you mean?”

Ally/Amber sighed, her expression softening. “The girls told me how you had moved on already. I couldn’t stand it, Chase. I wanted you back. I needed you back.” She said with a grin.

"B-but how?" He asked and yet he was pretty sure he knew how.

"My magic book silly! Yes I left it there so the girls could have some fun but I only did that because I had all the spells memorized. So once my babes got Ally into my cheerleading outfit, her body was mine for the taking. I think you'll agree I look good on her." She giggled as she twirled for him.

Ned’s mind raced, never in a million years would he have guessed that Amber was a witch but it suddenly made sense. Her beauty, her wickedness, her status. It was all a result of her power as a witch. As a result of the same book he found.

“So that means Ally is..." He began but again he knew the answer.

“Don’t worry she's gotten an upgrade. She now gets to live the rest of her life out as me.” She said with an evil giggle that made Ned’s cock twitch.

This would make swapping back to his old self decidedly more difficult. He was going to have to get Amber to swap back first and then eventually he would need to do the same. It was starting to give him a headache.

However as he looked at Amber's wicked grin on Ally's face he suddenly had a wicked thought of his own. Why would he need to swap back? Why should he? He had done this to elevate Ally and himself to a higher social standing. Had he not done it? Plus Amber was clearly versed in the magical arts, that could prove even more advantageous.

Setting his sights on Ally/Amber he closed in and wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her tight. A slow smile spread across his face. “Well, Amber, I can’t say I haven’t missed you too.” He said, his voice dripping with Chase’s natural swagger.

"Please babe, Amber was your ex, I'm Alexis and I'm going to make you and everyone else at this school think Amber was an amateur next to me." She said with a burning passion in her eyes as they leaned in and kissed.

[ironpatriot2099]

Thanks to this story and bad jackets, I became a fan of your writing.

Blast from the past

Some of my older stories have been banned permanently from Tumblr due to some NSFW images. So every once and awhile I will repost them with new SFW images (look for the #cc unbanned tag). This is one such story. Enjoy!

----

"Hey Shaun what is this stuff?" Chloe called out to her husband while sifting through the few remaining undamaged boxes from their flooded basement. She found one marked 'Shaun and Jordan'. Shaun hurried over but when he saw the box he seemed to go pale.

"Oh. That's stuff from my last relationship, way before I met you." He said slightly guilty as Chloe opened the box and started sifting through.

"Leather jackets? Switchblades? Cigarettes? Keys to a motorcycle? And what's this?" Chloe said pulling out a stack of pictures with the top one being one of a young rebellious couple making out next to a motorbike. Her leg was wrapped around him and his hands were all over her. Chloe realised that this was Shaun and Jordan. She was taken aback.

"Wow Shaun I never knew you had a biker phase." She said half teasing half curious.

"As I said it was a long time ago, I'm not proud of that period of my life. I stole, fought, commited such heinous criminal acts. But that’s not me anymore." He said. Chloe moved onto the next picture which was of Jordan posing suggestively on a bike.

"And what about her? What about Jordan?" Chloe asked.

"She... She died in a motorbike accident. After she died it was like I woke up to all the stupid shit I had been doing with my life. I packed up all our belongings into that box and forgot about it. It's not who I am anymore, don't worry. I should go into town and get some supplies to clean this all up, I'll be back in a bit." Shaun said kissing his wife goodbye.

Chloe, however, had flipped to another picture of just Shaun on a bike and she was fixated. He seemed so in charge, so manly, so tough in the past, it was kind of turning Chloe on. Sure she loved Shaun now but sometimes she wished there was a bit more fire to him.

Chloe flipped back to another picture of Jordan. She was stunning and had the tightest body Chloe had ever seen. Her eyes were so piercing that Chloe felt intimidated just looking at her. Chloe felt light headed as she heard a voice drift into her mind. "He could be that man again." It said.

"But how? How can he get his fire back?" She said in a dreamlike daze.

"He needs his bad bitch girlfriend by his side. You need to become the new me, the new Jordan. I'll help you bring the bad boy Shaun out." Jordan seemed to say from the picture. In her daze it made perfect sense to Chloe.

"Yessss of course, he needs to remember who he was." She said in a trance.

"You want to be me, you've always wanted to be a bad ass bitch and now here's your chance. I'll warp your body and mind into Shaun's perfect little slut then he'll be yours forever and together you will be the baddest couple around. Doesn't that sound good?" Jordan purred.

"Mmmmm fuck yes, Chloe is such a pathetic loser. I want to be Jordan." Chloe moaned in pleasure as she felt her pussy get slick.

"Goooood. Now if that is to happen then you'll need to look the part. Don't worry, this will feel amazing." Jordan whispered as Chloe felt her tits expand out of her sweater. She moaned in pleasure as she groped her new breasts in pleasure.

"YESSSSS fuck yes I want more! Make them bigger!" Chloe demanded.

"Now you're acting like me." Jordan said cackling to herself as Chloe fell more under her corruption. Her tits swelled even bigger and Chloe ripped off her top to better appreciate her new weapons.

"If these don't light a fire under Shaun nothing will. I'm such a hot bitch now." Chloe said vainly touching herself all over.

"You're nearly there. Now pick out a tight outfit from the box to really become me." Jordan enticed her but Chloe was already a willing victim. She pulled out a form fitting leather corset and loved how it barely contained her new tits. The more she admired herself the more of Jordan slipped into her.

"Mmmmm soon I'll have my alpha male back and then we'll show this town a thing or two about fear." She said cackling to herself. Chloe was almost completely taken over by Jordan but there was still an annoying little piece of goodness residing in her. Jordan knew just how to get rid of it and fully take over.

"That's it my little pet, now just one last step and we will be one. You'll be a true evil bitch like me, maybe even badder. Go to the garage, I have a gift waiting." Jordan said and Chloe felt a shiver of anticipation pass through her like it was Christmas. A smile curled up her lips as she entered the garage and saw waiting for her was a motorbike. Not just any bike though.

"Your bike." Chloe said running a hand across the sleek metal becoming more and more turned on as she did.

"You mean your bike? Don't you want to be Jordan? Don't you want to be me?" Jordan whispered.

"More than anything." Chloe said her voice dripping with lust.

"Then climb on and start her up." Jordan said and Chloe stalked over obediently. She threw her leg over the powerful machine and instantly felt at home. She turned the key and started it up. The vibration from the engine made her wet as she straddled tight to the machine.

"Doesn't that feel good? Only thing that beats it is a good hard fucking. Now Rev it up. The more you do the more of me you let in." Jordan said seductively. Chloe revved it again and again each time getting closer and closer to orgasming. She moaned as she felt Jordan's soul begin to merge with her own with each Rev.

"Oh fuck FUCK! Yessss I feel like such an evil bitch. I feel like a hot bad ass slut! I feel like Jordan! NO! I AM JORDAN!" She screamed as their two personalities crashed into one another. At once Chloe had new memories flood her mind. She was Jordan now and it felt perfect. She ran her sharp nails down her transformed body in ecstasy.

"Shaun has been missing a real woman's touch and a real woman's pussy but once he gets a look at me he'll forget all about weak little Chloe." She said tieing her hair up into a mohawk. She loved how it looked. It made her look like a woman not to be messed with. Just then she heard a car pull up outside.

"Hmmmm speak of my devil. Time to get him playing on the dark side again." She said with a wicked smile. She heard him go into the basement with the supplies he just bought and she followed patiently after him. Her high heels clacked loudly on the metal stairs she descended causing Shaun to turn around.

"Chloe? Is that you?" He said certain it was but began doubting himself the more he looked at her.

"Try again lover." She said in a breathy voice and tone he did not recognize her having before. It was like she acting like...

"Jordan? No this can't be real." He said backing away.

"What's the matter baby? You look like you've seen a ghost." She said smiling knowingly while approaching him

"What have you done with Chloe?" He said unable to take his eyes off her body while he continued to back away.

"Me and Chloe had a little talk and decided it was in everyone's best interest if you got a little of your fire back, a little of your passion. That's why I'm here baby, you need your evil muse." She said eyeing him sexily and hungrily.

"No I want Chloe back, I'm not that man anymore I'm a better man. I'm a good man!" He said as she backed him into a corner.

"A good man maybe? But a better man? Not even close." She said and then pounced on him locking her lips on his. He fought at first against her soft warm lips but the more they continued the more he lost himself to her. He was transported back to when he was young and carefree, when he only gave a fuck about one person. After about a minute he was pushing her against the wall and moved from kissing her lips to her neck.

"Oh you fucking nasty slut I've missed you. And I've especially missed this tight little thing." He said as he stroked her pussy.

"There's my man." Jordan said while helping him take off his pants. She undid his belt and his pants careened to the floor.

"Mmmmm nice to see somethings haven't changed." She said licking her lips as she gazed at his huge member.

Original note count before ban: 285

[ironpatriot2099]

The Tapes pt. 2

A slow burn transformation story

“The tapes are working then! This is great news!” Brian gushed as he hugged Linda. Linda’s heart beat quickly as her face became bright red. Linda felt better than she ever had before. She felt less anxious in public places and around crowds. However, Linda kept the other effects from her good friend. “So you actually went to a bar? Did… did you talk to anyone?” Brian asked, adjusting his glasses.

“No, I ordered a beer and drank it and left.” Linda didn’t want to mention Dave and the motorcycle ride. Linda looked Brian in the eye with confidence. Brian smiled believing her friend’s lie. “So do you want to test the new me out tonight?” she asked him. Brian thought for a moment. He was still curious about how the tapes affected her. He looked at her and nodded.

“Good pick me up at seven and make sure it’s a busy place.” Linda smiled, her voice filled with excitement. She kissed Brian on the cheek and left to get ready. Brian watched his friend walk away as he still felt the warmth of her lips in his cheek. He was sure tonight was going to be interesting.

As Linda got home, she put the shopping bags on the floor. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day's stresses. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of the water on her skin, and began to think about the evening ahead. Her heart raced with anticipation as she imagined herself walking into a bustling bar with Brian, feeling confident and beautiful in the new dress she had bought that afternoon.

She felt her hands caress her sensitive skin. She imagined Brian playing pool with her. She smiled as her hands soaped her body. Brian in his leather jacket brought her to his motorcycle. Linda frowned at her fantasy as she knew Brian didn’t have a motorcycle. Linda in her mind took a ride with him as she felt the vibrating machine against her thighs. Linda opened her eyes realizing she was rubbing herself. Linda swallowed as she stopped daydreaming and finished showering.

As Linda dried off, she put on the new dress. The soft material hugged her body. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling fancy but still unremarkable. Her heart raced with anticipation as she brushed her long hair and applied makeup. She slipped on a new pair of heels, taking care not to trip on them.

Finally, she was ready. Brian was punctual as he rang the doorbell. Linda took a deep breath and opened the door, revealing her date standing outside. He looked handsome in a collared shirt and slacks. Brian looked up and down and gulped. Linda smiled realizing her new look had an effect on him.

The bar they chose was bustling with activity. People laughed and chatted as they enjoyed their drinks. The music played softly in the background. Linda felt a thrill of excitement as she scanned the room, taking in the atmosphere. Brian guided her to an empty booth and they sat down, their knees touching beneath the table.

The conversation was easy as usual. Brian was elated to see his friend have such vitality. Linda talked with the waiter with ease. “Do you want to play pool with me?” Linda asked. Brian nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose. She had never played pool before, but she didn't want to let Brian know that. She followed him to the pool table, feeling his eyes on her as she walked. They laughed as they kept missing the cue ball with their pool sticks.

Linda found herself feeling more confident in her new clothes. She leaned against the pool table, stretching her arms above her head. She could feel the material of her dress cling to her skin. Brian smiled as he watched her, enjoying the view. She felt a new sense of power when she sank a ball into the pocket, earning a point. Her heart raced with excitement.

Brian brought her back home at a reasonable hour. Linda tried her hardest to hide her disappointment. “Linda this was so much fun!” Brian gushed as he helped her out of his car. He walked her to the door and they stood there, the silence between them deafening. He finally mustered the courage to speak.

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. There was a newfound light in his eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached out and brushed a stray hair from her face. "Linda... you're amazing. You really are." Linda couldn’t help herself as she grabbed Brian’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. His lips were soft and warm against hers, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his heart racing beneath her palm.

Linda’s hand traveled down Brian’s body as she felt his manhood. Brian instinctively moaned as he kissed Linda. Linda rubbed Brian’s crotch faster. Brian pushed away from Linda. “Umm Linda… we shouldn’t move too fast.” Linda didn't let this deter her. She grabbed on Brian’s belt buckle and looked deep into his eyes. “Come upstairs with me.” Her voice was a command, but it was laced with desire.

Brian looked like he would obey as he closed his eyes briefly. He moved backwards slowly. “I… can’t I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.” Brian walked to his car as he heard Linda slam the door of her house. She raced upstairs to her room and looked at herself in the mirror. “So stupid.” She grumbled to herself. She flopped down on her bed, taking her heels off to get ready for bed. As she lay there, she got her headphones and Walkman ready. She looked at the tape book and pulled a tape from “Standing Out”.

She closed her eyes, letting the affirmations wash over her. The words were so powerful, so true. She felt a renewed sense of strength and determination. She listened as she thought of how Brian backed away. “He was afraid Linda. You are becoming more than he can handle. You need a real man. A man who isn’t afraid to take what he wants.”

The tape continued to play, and Linda felt herself growing more and more aroused. She felt her heart beat faster. A new thought entered her mind. She smiled as she got up from bed. She put on a pair of jeans a tshirt and the same heels she wore to her date. She walked quickly to the dive bar near her home.

She smiled as she saw Dave’s motorcycle parked outside. She quickly walked in and found Dave playing pool. He glanced at her, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," he drawled. She walked up to Dave with a determined look in her eyes. “Teach me how to play.”

Dave chuckled. "Well, aren't you feisty tonight?" He gestured to an empty pool table. "Alright then, let's show you the ropes." He patiently showed her how to hold the cue stick, she smiled as she felt him behind her. She could feel his strong hands guiding hers. As she leaned back against him, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. His aroma filled her senses, and she couldn't help but feel a wave of desire wash over her.

Dave was surprised by her reactions. He had always thought Linda was a bit of a prude. But now, as she leaned into him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of power and confidence. He watched as she took her first shot, and she sank the ball. There was a newfound light in her eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

They played several more games, and each time, Linda seemed to improve. Her confidence grew with each shot she made. She laughed and joked with Dave, her voice bubbling over with happiness. The more they played, the more comfortable she felt in his presence.

Dave offered her a ride home as she nodded yes enthusiastically. They climbed onto his motorcycle, the wind whipping through her hair. She felt a thrill of excitement as they sped down the street, the wind pressing against her back. When they arrived at her house, she hesitated for a moment before getting off the bike.

She began to walk to her house but looked back at Dave. She turned back and kissed him. He responded, kissing her deeply. His strong hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him. She felt a surge of desire as their bodies pressed against each other.

Linda put her hand down at Dave’s crotch and began to rub at it. She could hear Dave groan in approval. His hips bucked into her hand, and she smiled as she felt his arousal. She leaned in closer, kissing him deeply as her other hand undid the button on his jeans. She jumped as she felt his rough hands grab her backside.

He pulled her closer and ground his hips against hers. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest. Dave sat back on his motorcycle as Linda swung her leg around him. They looked at each other as she sat on his lap. Her legs were on either side of his hips and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Linda instinctively began grinding on Dave. Her lips curled as she saw Dave’s eyes roll back with arousal. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. He moaned, and she could feel his hips bucking against her. His erection pressed against her core, and she arched her back, seeking more contact.

Their kiss deepened as their bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt both familiar and exhilarating. The sounds of their passion filled the night air, mingling with the distant sounds of traffic and laughter from the bar. As they continued to ride, she felt the familiar tightening in her stomach, and knew she was close.

Dave pulled back from the kiss, his eyes searching hers. He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "You like to ride don’t ya?” He growled, his hips bucking against her in a demanding rhythm. Linda moaned, arching her back as she felt his erection pressing against her. Linda felt her body start to shake, her orgasm building within her. She felt her panties and jeans soak with her juices as some of it leaked onto Dave’s jeans.

“Oh, fuck!” Linda’s body trembled as she orgasmed dry humping Dave. Linda hopped off the motorcycle as she walked into her house. She heard the roar of Dave’s motorcycle as he rode off. Linda locked the door and collapsed onto her bed, still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. She had never felt so alive.

She knew she had to have another adventure like that soon. A quiet night at home sounded so boring to the former homebody. She looked at the tape book on her nightstand. She took a tape from the “Grabbing Attention” section. She kicked her heels off and let her jeans fall to the floor. She put the tape into the Walkman she put her headphones on as she drifted to sleep.

[ironpatriot2099]

The Sisters pt. 1

A late Bloomer tale

The sisterhood were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Stacey in her usual white crop top and tight jeans. She had a scowl on her face as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Becky and Ruby were holding hands and giggling. Becky’s black yoga pants and top exposed her impressive abs that Ruby’s red fingernail free hand was caressing. Stacey rolled her eyes at the display. Becky caressed Ruby’s hosiery covered thigh as they were so close to making out. “Ugh get a room you two!” Stacey exclaimed, causing Ruby to break out into a fit of giggles.

“I know that I’m Bi now but women really do it for me now.” Becky confessed, looking down at Ruby’s body. Ruby leaned in, a hungry look on her face. "Maybe because they always did it for you?” she asked with a sly grin. Stacey rolled her eyes and snorted. "Ugh can we hold off on humping anyone until our fearless leader shows up?” she asked, gesturing to the door.

As if on cue Marsha walked in. The bright orange hair and lips caught the eye of everyone as she walked to her usual spot. She wore the least revealing clothes of the group as she actually dressed casually. Stacy leaned forward as Marsha sat down. “Well? What news from on high?” she asked sarcastically. Marsha looked at the three girls then smiled. “We all meet her tomorrow for the next phase of her plan.” she replied, her voice hushed.

Ruby and Becky squealed with excitement. “Ooh I can’t wait!” Ruby exclaimed. Becky nodded in agreement. Stacey rolled her eyes. She was still annoyed at the restrictions that were placed on her since the incident at Peter’s. “Tonight! Tonight we feast. She said she wanted us at full energy for our meeting.” Marsha announced. Ruby clapped her hands together. "Oh! There is cute Professor that I’ve been meaning to seduce. He should be delicious!” Becky stopped touching Ruby. “Aww so what am I supposed to do?” Becky whined. Stacey snorted. "Well you can always go after one of the TA's. They're always easy meat." she joked.

Marsha

“Or you could get your real revenge… on Traci.” Stacey suggested. Becky’s eyes glowed as she licked her lips and inhaled. “That’s a great idea… thanks Stace.” Stacey stared right at Marsha “Anything for a sister.” There was a moment of silence as Marsha and Stacey glared at each other. “I guess… I’ll just consume a frat… how boring.” Stacey sighed. Ruby giggled.

“No, I talked with our maker and we agreed. We want you at your best Stacey. Peter’s all yours.” Marsha said with a knowing smirk. Stacey gasped as she felt her breasts fill with milk. Stacey’s eyes glowed as she felt her panties soak at the thought of having Peter again. “Oh thank you! Thank you!” Stacey got up and hugged Marsha tight. “Anything for a sister.” They both giggled.

Becky’s Story-

Becky watched as Stacey and Marsha hugged as the tension between them evaporated. Becky didn’t know the full story but apparently Stacey was obsessed with her former bully and Marsha didn’t approve. The girls all said goodbye to each other as Becky walked to her former best friend’s dorm room.

Stacey

Becky felt the butterflies in her stomach as she never confronted or really talked to Traci since she caught her with Bill. They grew up together and shared everything except for boys. The code was clear between them and Traci had broken it.

Becky transformed into her normal body and knocked on Traci’s door. “Go away!” Traci yelled through the door. “It’s me Becky, Trace.” Becky said in her most innocent voice. There was a long pause, then Traci unlocked the door. When she opened it, she was wearing a big sweatshirt and still had tears in her eyes. “I’m sure you came to gloat didn’t you?” Becky was surprised when Traci hugged her and brought her in. “I fucking missed you Becks. I.. I fucked up. I ruined our friendship over a guy and and… he cheated on me. I’m so sorry…. Please I need you. Please forgive me…. You’re all I have now.”

Becky gritted her teeth. She wanted to unleash the rage she had from the betrayal. Traci’s genuine tears touched Becky’s heart. “I don’t know Traci. You were my best friend! I loved you and what you did still hurts. The worst part … is if you just told me. If you said you wanted Bill. I would have broken up with him for us.” Traci’s tears kept flowing as she looked at her best friend. “It wasn’t fair though. All the boys wanted me over you. I wanted you to know how it felt to be wanted.” Traci grabbed Becky’s hand. “I wanted you so see how beautiful you really are. I should have just told you that.”

Ruby

Becky wiped the tears from her own eyes. “Yeah you should have. I met some new friends and the helped me see that.” Becky looked at Traci and laughed. “I actually did come here to gloat and rip you a new one.” Traci wiped her tears and smiled. “I fucking deserve it. Weird thing is the woman that Bill was fucking said ‘Karma’s a bitch’”. Becky gulped remembering she did say that. “She did?” Traci nodded. Becky sighed. She didn't want to see Traci hurt anymore. She wanted her best friend back. But she couldn’t let her know the truth at least not yet.

“Yeah, I took Bill from you and that Amazon bitch took Bill from me.” Traci looked up at Becky. Becky’s lip quivered as she asked for clarification. “Amazon?” Traci nodded. Becky sat down on the bed right next to Traci. “Yeah, I never saw a woman as hot as her. If she wasn’t the bitch that stole my man…. I would totally follow her IG and see how she slayed in a bikini. You … ok Becky?” Traci asked her friend.

Becky’s eyes fluttered as she felt herself get really warm. Traci’s compliments of her succubus form was arousing her. Becky could feel the sexual energy growing inside. It was if her succubus was wanting to transform. “Uhm I’m ok Traci… keep telling your story.” Becky eyes her friend with a hunger she never displayed before.

“Well yeah imagine Meg the Stallion times ten. I know Bill was loving it as he was throbbing. I know this is TMI but even though I was horrified. I felt myself getting wet… because of her.” Becky’s nipples hardened hearing her friend describe her. “She was fucking irresistible wasn’t she?” Becky gasped as she felt her breasts get heavier in her chest.

“Well.. yeah she actually…said something like that. “ Traci pushed away from her friend. “Do… do you know her Becky?” Traci looked at her friend as her eyes had rolled back. Becky inhaled hard trying to control the pleasure and sexual energy tidal wave that was washing over her. “You could say something like that ahhhh!” The dam broke as all of Becky’s succubus energy overwhelmed her as purple flame surrounded her body. Becky’s breasts increased in size as her muffin top evaporated. The unflattering sweats vanished as Becky was now in her true succubus form. Becky caressed her amazing curves as she moaned gleefully as if freed from a prison. Becky opened her eyes and looked at her tight bikini that left little to the imagination.

Becky

Traci stood up in shock. “It was you?!” she asked in disbelief. Becky smiled, her perfect white teeth behind the juicy thick lips. “You really have a way with words Trace. It really brings out the best in a girl… no?” Becky arched her back taking a sexual pose as she played with her long black hair.

Traci’s heart was pounding in her chest. The mixed emotions of fear, surprise and arousal were all present within her. “You fucked Bill? What…what are you?” Traci backed away from Becky as she continued to take poses on the bed.

“Mmmm I’m a succubus baby. I wanted revenge for you both hurting me. So I took it.”

“What do you want now?” Traci asked, her voice quivering with fear and a hint of arousal. Becky stopped posing and began walking to Traci. “You said you wanted me to know how it felt to be beautiful and wanted. Traci… it feels fucking fantastic.” Becky was right in front of Traci, her taller form a head higher now making Traci look up. “You’re here for more revenge aren’t you?” Traci gulped.

“Mmmhmm you see… I’m too fucking sexy to resist.” Becky said as she pulled Traci in for a kiss. Her succubus powers overwhelmed Traci as she found herself melting into the kiss. Her body felt like it was on fire as she pressed herself against Becky. The two women kissed deeply, their tongues dancing together.

As they broke apart, Becky whispered in Traci's ear, "You're gonna love this." She grabbed at Traci’s waist and quickly pulled her sweatshirt off, letting her perfect breasts free. "Oh my god Traci, you're so beautiful." Becky cupped her hands around her friend's breasts, squeezing them gently before taking one nipple into her mouth and sucking on it hungrily. Traci moaned loudly, arching her back as she felt an unfamiliar pleasure course through her veins.

“Oh my God! Becky! Mmm” Traci moaned as she wrapped her hands around her friend's head, feeling the incredible sensations building in her chest. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into Becky's mouth, wanting more of the delicious pleasure.

Becky released her nipple with a pop and moved to Traci's other breast, taking the waiting nipple into her mouth. Traci gasped as she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her, making her limbs weak. She reached down, gripping the hem of her sweatpants, desperate to feel more. She couldn’t understand why this felt so right.

"Oh fuck yeah Traci," Becky moaned, her words vibrating against her skin. "You taste so good." Traci arched her back even further, pressing her chest into Becky's face. Her hips began to move involuntarily, grinding against her friend's thigh. The sensations were overwhelming, both familiar and foreign at the same time.

Becky released her nipples with a pop and moved up to nip at Traci's neck. "You feel so good, Traci. I could do this all night." Traci shuddered, her legs turning to jelly. She reached down, grasping at Becky's hips as she felt her wetness grow between her legs. "Please, Becky. I need..." she trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"You need me?" Becky asked, her voice low and husky. "You need my cock inside you?" She moved back, her gaze trailing down to Traci's crotch. “Wait.. what cock?” Traci asked confused. Becky grabbed Traci’s back and grinded her hips into Traci’s. Traci gasped as she felt a stiff member against her pelvis. “Succubus powers baby” Becky grinned.

Becky pulled Traci’s bottoms off. Traci felt a rush of cold air against her, and then the warmth of Becky's body as her friend straddled her. She gripped the head of her cock, positioning it at Traci's entrance. Traci felt a sting of pain as Becky pressed inside her, but it was quickly replaced by an intense, burning pleasure. She cried out, her body arching up into the sensation.

Elated to share this moment with her.

She arched her back, her fingernails digging into Becky's shoulders as she felt her own orgasm building, a wave of heat and pleasure starting deep in her core and spreading outward. "Oh god, Becky," she gasped, her hips meeting Becky's with frenzied urgency. "I'm going to..."

Becky's thrusts became faster, harder, as if she was trying to push Traci over the edge. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body shuddering with the effort. "Come for me, baby," she growled, her voice rough and demanding.

Traci felt her orgasm build, tearing through her body like a tidal wave. "Yes!" she cried out, arching her back as her hips bucked wildly against Becky. Her vision blurred, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her.

Becky felt Traci's inner walls grip her cock, squeezing it with unrelenting force. She threw her head back, her body tensing as she felt the familiar tightness building inside her. "Oh fuck," she moaned, her voice ragged and desperate. "I'm coming."

With a final thrust, Becky buried her cock to the hilt inside Traci, their bodies pressed together, their sweat mixing on their skin. She let out a long, shuddering groan as her orgasm overtook her, her hips snapping wildly against Traci's in a frenzy of pleasure. Her vision blurred, her thoughts spinning out of control as the wave of ecstasy crashed over her.

Traci panting laid her chest on Becky’s. “Was that really revenge for you?”

Becky looked down at Traci “No, more like what I always wanted.”

[ironpatriot2099]

Sorority Rush

Please enjoy this story that I wrote for a competition on power transferal. If you like it, you can find 100 of my other stories over at my blog (link on my Tumblr home page). ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Sarah Martin stood on the fringes of the crowded sorority house, clutching her boyfriend Jake’s hand. The party was in full swing, and the girls of Eta Omega Tau, or “HOT” as they called themselves, were at the center of it all. Sarah’s dark brown eyes flickered with a mix of determination and resentment as she overheard snippets of their conversations.

“Can you believe she’s here? Why would they even let her in?”

“Look out, here comes Plain Jane.”

Sarah clenched her jaw, feeling the sting of their words. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on the receiving end of their snide comments and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Despite her best efforts to be friendly, they always treated her like she was less than them. She was cute and funny, and she even had a boyfriend, but nothing seemed to be enough for them.

“Sarah, is that the best you could do tonight?” one of the girls sneered as she walked by, her eyes raking over Sarah’s simple dress. 

“Yeah, you’d think she’d at least try to fit in,” another girl added, loud enough for Sarah to hear. 

Jake squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Ignore them, Sarah. They’re not worth it.” 

No, they’re not worth it, Sarah thought, her resolve hardening. But she was tired of being dismissed, tired of being treated like she was invisible or worse, a joke. Tonight, she was going to do something about it. She was determined to find something that would bring them down a peg or two.

She leaned closer to Jake. “Keep watch for me. I’m going upstairs,” she whispered.

Jake nodded, squeezing her hand before letting go. “Be careful, Sarah.”

With a deep breath, Sarah slipped away from the crowd and made her way upstairs. The hallway was dimly lit, and the noise from the party below seemed to fade into the background. She knew exactly whose room she needed to find: Madisson, the sorority president.

If there’s dirt on HOT, it has to be in Madisson’s room, she thought.

She found the door slightly ajar and slipped inside, her heart pounding. The room was immaculate, a perfect reflection of Madisson’s image. Sarah began to rummage through the drawers and closet, looking for anything that could serve as ammunition. She was about to give up when something caught her eye: a white dress.

It was short, very short, and barely covered anything. God, this dress is so slutty, she thought, shaking her head. Who would even wear something like this?

Yet, as she held it up, another thought popped into her head: I should put it on and take a selfie. The idea seemed perfectly rational, even though a part of her knew it was completely out of character. It didn’t occur to her that this was an odd impulse. It’s not even my size, but I’d like to see what I look like in it, she rationalized.

Sarah slipped out of her clothes and into the ill-fitting dress. She realized how silly she looked but before she could take it off the door opened and Madisson walked in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Madisson sneered, her eyes cold and mocking. “Couldn’t help but try to fit in, huh?  I saw you sneak off.  Your loser boyfriend wasn’t even man enough to try to slow me down.”

Sarah’s heart raced as Madisson circled her like a predator. “This dress is way too good for you,” Madisson continued. “I’m going to parade you around in this ill-fitting mess so everyone can see what a wannabe loser you are.”

Suddenly, something strange happened. A shimmering light enveloped Sarah and Madisson. Sarah felt a powerful force pulling her toward Madisson. She watched in stunned silence as energy started flowing between them.

Madisson’s mocking laughter turned into a gasp of horror as her features started to change. Her sleek, blonde hair darkened and lost its luster, while Sarah’s own hair lightened and straightened into a platinum blonde cascade. Freckles faded from Sarah’s face, reappearing on Madisson’s increasingly plain features. Sarah’s brown eyes brightened, taking on a captivating intensity, while Madisson’s eyes dulled and lost their sharpness.

Their bodies shifted next. Sarah grew taller, her legs elongating and becoming more toned, while Madisson’s figure became less defined. The dress, which had once seemed too small for Sarah, now fit her like a glove, highlighting every curve. Meanwhile, Madisson’s clothes hung awkwardly on her new, plainer frame.

“What’s happening to me?” Madisson cried, her voice trembling with fear.

Sarah felt a surge of confidence and power as the transformation completed. She looked down at Madisson, now a plain version of herself, crying and begging on the floor.

“It looks like we’ve switched places,” Sarah said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “And it suits me much better.”

Madisson reached out, her eyes pleading. “Please, Sarah, change me back. This isn’t fair!” Sarah laughed cruelly. “Fair? You think any of this was fair to begin with? Now you know how it feels to be on the other side.”

With a final, dismissive glance, Sarah turned and strutted out of the room, leaving Madisson sobbing in despair.

She made her way downstairs with a confident strut, her every step exuding an air of superiority. She brushed past Jake, who was staring at her with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“Sarah’s left you alone, just like the loser you are,” she said coldly. “Move on.”

Jake’s mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. He just stood there, stunned.

As she entered the main room, the sorority girls noticed her immediately. “Who is that?” one of the girls whispered.

“She looks amazing,” another replied.

Sarah smiled, a slow, confident smile. “Hi, everyone,” she said, her voice charming and commanding. “I hope you don’t mind, but I found this dress upstairs. It felt like it was made for me.”

The girls stared in awe, recognizing the dress but unable to place who was wearing it. They whispered among themselves, impressed by this new girl and wondering where Madisson had gone. The power shift in the room was palpable.

Throughout the night, Sarah became the center of attention. Boys flocked to her, showering her with compliments and flirtations. She teased them mercilessly, enjoying the newfound attention and power. She was the talk of the party, sparking whispers and admiration.

As the night wore on, one of the HOT girls approached her. “You should rush HOT,” she said, her eyes wide with excitement. “You’d be perfect.”

Sarah paused, pretending to think about it. She glanced around the room, her eyes landing on a particularly attractive boy who had been eyeing her all night. She recognized him as Madisson’s boyfriend.  She sauntered over to him, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him passionately, leaving him breathless.

Pulling away, she turned back to the HOT girl with a satisfied smile. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll rush HOT.”

All eyes were on her, and Sarah felt a sense of belonging and power that she had never felt before. This is where I belong, she thought. And I’m never going back.

[ironpatriot2099]

The Tapes part 1

A slow burn transformation story

“It’s quite simple Linda. The tapes should remove your anxiety and fear.” Brian said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. Linda looked at him then at the floor at her ballet flats. “You.. really think it can help me?”

Linda and Brian had been friends since childhood. They definitely were textbook geeks. They even dressed like nerds from a 1980’s movie. Linda had auburn hair and she was wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that pressed on her nose. Her sweaters and skirts were cute but did nothing for her plain face and body. Brian and Linda were no stranger to bullying. They were both bullied for being too smart and too socially awkward. They found solace in each other and often would spend hours together discussing their favorite books and movies.

Brian over the years was able to find confidence and self-assurance, but Linda never quite found it. She was always anxious and nervous, especially around new people. Her lack of confidence had started to affect her life, even in the one place where she thought she was safe: school. The large classes at college were becoming too much for her to handle. Brian googled how to handle anxiety and found a website that sold the tapes. Brian spent hours reading the reviews and was blown away. The tapes were always successful and the clients not only lost anxiety but actually thrived.

Brian passed the book of tapes to her. “Yes, they should work. The only weird thing is that they said they can only be on cassettes. They seem to be an old-fashioned kind of company.” Linda smiled weakly, taking the book. She flipped through the tapes, noting their titles: "Confidence Boosters," "Standing Out," "Overcoming Social Anxiety," "Grabbing Attention ." Each one sounded too good to be true. She glanced up at Brian, who was watching her expectantly. "Okay," she said finally, "I'll try them."

Linda went home and found an old Walkman that belonged to her father. She decided to take the first tape hoping to boost her confidence. She took the old headphones and placed them over her ears as she pressed play. The hissing of the cassette filled her ears. The voice on the tape was soft, soothing, and calming. It was definitely a woman, but her voice had been altered in some way. It was as if she was speaking from a great distance, and yet she seemed to be right there in the room with Linda.

The affirmations seemed basic as Linda began to repeat them. She felt foolish at first, but as she continued, she found herself nodding along with the woman on the tape. "I am confident," she repeated, feeling the words begin to sink in. "I am in control of my life." The more she repeated them, the more she started to believe them. Her shoulders relaxed, and she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She closed her eyes, letting the voice of the woman guide her through a series of deep breathing exercises.

Linda listened closely as she imagined herself as a more confident woman. “Stop being afraid Linda!” the voice on the tape said, interrupting her thoughts. Linda’s eyes opened as she pressed stop and rewind. Linda pressed play “You do not need to be afraid. You can live your life.” The woman continued, and Linda listened intently. She felt a surge of determination as the words sank in. She closed her eyes again, imagining herself in a classroom, speaking up and participating without fear.

The next day Linda met Brian on campus. She surprised him with a strong hug. “Brian! I listened to one tape all night. I went to class and I wasn’t nervous at all!” she gushed. Brian smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose. “That’s awesome! First we get you comfortable in class and next maybe other crowded places like theaters or concerts.” Linda nodded with a huge smile. “Are you asking me out on a date Brian?” she teased. He blushed and laughed.

That night Linda put in tape two as she put new batteries in the Walkman. “These old things are a pain.” she muttered as she put on the headphones. The hissing started again and the soft feminine voice began. Linda listened to the tape about standing out and grabbing attention. She imagined herself walking with confidence, her head held high. The affirmations made her feel powerful and in control.

“Yes Linda did you see how you made Brian blush today? Don’t fear your power! Use it! Embrace it! It’s time to be what you truly want to be!” Linda’s eyes opened as she jerked up from her bed. She had fallen asleep listening to the tapes. Linda’s heart was pounding as she gasped trying to catch her breath. It was like when she felt frightened before but something was different. She put her hand over her heart and felt her chest vibrate. The feeling was amazing. Linda felt so alive as she decided to go for a walk.

The fresh air felt amazing on her skin as she found herself on the Main Street. All the stores and businesses were closed as it was late. The streetlights cast long shadows across the empty parking lot, revealing a dimly lit entrance to a bar. The neon sign above the door read "The Den of Iniquity." Linda hesitated for a moment, feeling curious as she felt her heart beat quickly.

She took a deep breath and walked inside. The smell of stale smoke and alcohol assailed her senses. The dim lighting made it difficult to see clearly, but she could make out a long bar on the left, a few booths scattered about, and a small stage in the back. A lone figure was playing pool. As she took a step forward, she felt so out of place.

The bartender, a tall, burly man with a five o'clock shadow, approached her. "What can I get you, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice rough with cigarette smoke. “Umm can I get a …” Linda wasn’t sure what to say as she never had alcohol. “She’ll just have a beer Terry.” The lone figure from the pool table came close. “And it’s on me”

Linda looked at him with surprise. The man was handsome in a rugged sort of way, his dark hair messy, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and a black t-shirt. He smiled at her. "We definitely don’t get your type often in this place.” He gestured to the stool beside him. Linda sat down and replied “Women?” The man shook his head. “People who never been in a bar before.”

Linda sat and drank the beer. She learned the man’s name was Dave. He was a member in the local motorcycle club. He flirted with her and teased her for the innocence that she displayed. She was surprised when he offered her a ride home. Linda agreed as she got on the back of his motorcycle. The wind brushing against her face, the feel of the bike beneath her, and the warmth of Dave's body next to her made her feel alive. She bit her lip as a new sensation overcame her.

She felt a bit unsteady as she stepped of his bike. Dave smiled at her as she felt her heart beat faster. She walked quickly to her home as she felt her thigh muscles quiver. Linda crawled into bed as placed her head on the pillow. She put her headphones on as she listened to the affirmations.

Linda’s mind raced as she listened to the words as she recalled her little adventure. She smiled as she closed her eyes knowing she was becoming more confident. The tape’s voice got quieter as Linda’s imagination grew louder. “Yes Linda! You already so much more confident! You flirted with a man tonight.” Linda nodded her head in agreement with the voice in her head.

She thought back to the bar and the way Dave made her feel. The wind in her hair, the freedom of riding on the back of his motorcycle. It was exhilarating and she wanted to feel that way again. The voice in her head continued, "He was interested in you Linda, you could see it in his eyes." She couldn't help but blush at the memory.

Linda felt that new sensation again as it grew stronger. She felt a new need to increase it. She traced her hand against her thigh and trembled. The memory of the motorcycle against her thighs returned. Linda plunged two fingers into her wet pussy.

Linda shook violently as she felt electricity flow to her toes. She arched her back and moaned into the pillow as her hips bucked against her hand. The tension in her body was almost unbearable as she imagined herself on the back of the motorcycle again. She couldn't help but picture Dave's strong arms wrapped around her, guiding her through the wind. Her fingers dug deeper into her wetness, seeking release from the overwhelming desire that consumed her.

“Oh, oh, oh! Ohhh Fuck!” Linda’s voice lowered an octave as it sounded sultry as she muttered profanity. Her hand movement increased speed as she felt her body getting close to something. Something she had never felt before. Something she wanted to feel again. Her hips moved rhythmically as she grinded against her palm. Her fingers dug deeper, her body arched and trembled.

Linda felt a release, a release of all the tension, all the longing, all the desire that had been building inside her. Her fingers slid against her wetness as she orgasmed. She moaned loudly, her head thrown back, her eyes closed tightly. Tears streamed down her face as she came undone, as her body shook uncontrollably.

Linda collapsed and quickly fell asleep as the tape continued to play affirmations in her ears.

[ironpatriot2099]

Falling

Ella had spent the afternoon wrapped in her favorite quilt, a novel in hand, perfectly content in the quiet sanctuary of her dorm room. The soft hum of her desk lamp and the distant sounds of the campus outside her window were the only interruptions to her solitude. But as the sky darkened into evening, her peace was shattered by the energetic burst of Zoe bursting through the door.

“Ella, you have to come to the party with me tonight! It’s going to be epic, and I can’t let you miss it!” Zoe exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Ella frowned, setting her book aside with a sigh. “Zoe, you know parties aren’t my thing. I’d really rather stay in tonight.”

Zoe plopped down beside her on the bed, her expression turning pleading. “I know, I know, but just this once? It’s a big deal, and I won’t have nearly as much fun without my best friend there. Plus, I’ve picked out the perfect outfit for you!” She held up a black dress, simple but definitely more daring than anything in Ella’s usual wardrobe.

Ella hesitated further, the reluctance clear in her posture as she clutched her novel a bit tighter. “Zoe, I have a really busy day tomorrow,” she said, her tone wavering between firmness and the fatigue of impending responsibilities. “I have a morning study group session for my lit class, which I can’t miss, and then back-to-back classes until late afternoon. It’s really important that I stay on top of everything.”

Zoe’s eyes softened, understanding the weight of what Ella was balancing, but her determination didn’t wane. She scooted closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I get it, I really do. But how about this? We go for just a couple of hours, you’ll be back early, and I’ll make sure you get a full night’s sleep. Plus, it might be nice to blow off a little steam before another grinding day, right?”

Ella looked at Zoe, her friend’s hopeful expression making the corners of her mouth twitch into a reluctant smile. Zoe always had a way of making everything seem more manageable, more fun. With a deep breath, Ella set her book down on the nightstand, marking her place carefully.

“Okay, okay. A couple of hours won’t hurt,” Ella agreed, her voice still carrying a hint of reservation. “But we really do need to come back early, Zoe. I can’t afford to be tired tomorrow.”

Zoe clapped her hands together, beaming. “Deal! It’s settled then. You’ll see, it’ll be fun. And who knows? Maybe tonight will be more interesting than any study group could ever be.” Her wink was playful, and though Ella couldn’t fully share her enthusiasm, she allowed herself to be swept up in Zoe’s excitement, hoping that perhaps a brief escape from her responsibilities could indeed be refreshing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Ella and Zoe approached the noisy, vibrant house where the party was being held, the contrast between them was striking. Zoe, ever the life of the party, radiated energy. Her hair was a brilliant shade of pink tonight, cascading in waves that caught the light with every movement. She wore a glittering silver top paired with a black leather skirt, her ensemble completed with chunky boots that thudded assertively with each step. Her makeup was bold—smoky eyes and a swipe of bright pink lipstick that matched her hair. Zoe’s whole demeanor shouted confidence and readiness to dive into the revelry.

Ella, on the other hand, trailed slightly behind, her discomfort almost palpable. She wore the black dress Zoe had chosen for her, which was tastefully simple but shorter and tighter than anything she would have picked for herself. Her hair was left down, the soft brown waves falling just below her shoulders, and her makeup was minimal, just a touch of mascara and a light pink lip gloss that barely stood out. She looked beautiful but reserved, her posture slightly hunched, arms crossed protectively over her chest as her wide brown eyes took in the scene with a mix of awe and apprehension.

They stepped into the house together, the warm light from inside spilling out onto the porch. Music pounded through the air, a rhythmic bass that Ella could feel in her chest. The smell of sweat and sweet alcohol wafted towards them, mingling with the crisp night air. Zoe immediately took Ella’s hand, pulling her into the throng of dancing bodies. The room was packed, the air thick with the energy of countless conversations and the warmth of people everywhere.

Zoe was in her element, weaving through the crowd with a practiced ease, greeting friends with hugs and high fives. Ella moved cautiously, her eyes darting around, taking everything in. Every so often, Zoe would look back, flashing a reassuring smile and squeezing her hand, as if to remind Ella that she wasn’t alone in this unfamiliar territory.

Ella’s eyes scanned the lively party, taking in the swirl of dancing figures and laughing groups, when they locked onto a figure leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Chase Donovan was hard to miss, his persona the epitome of the ‘bad boy’ allure. His black leather jacket was open, revealing a dark shirt underneath, loosely tucked into distressed jeans. The gleam of metal from the chains on his belt and the cuffs of his wrist added an edge to his look. Tattoos crawled up his arms, disappearing under his sleeves, hinting at more hidden art across his chest and back. His hair was a tousled mess that seemed purposefully styled to enhance his reckless aura.

Despite her conservative nature, Ella found herself captivated by him. His green eyes had a mischievous glint, as if he was silently challenging anyone who met his gaze. He was everything Ella usually steered clear from, yet something about him held her in place, unable to look away.

Just as she was contemplating his allure, the mood around him shifted. A loud, boisterous argument broke out between Chase and another partygoer. The dispute escalated quickly, voices raising and bodies tensing. Chase’s face hardened, his jaw setting in anger as he pushed the other man back forcefully. The crowd around them backed away, some cheering on the confrontation, others looking worried.

The fight was brief but intense, with Chase clearly having the upper hand. He ended it by shoving the other guy against the wall, a final warning spat out before he turned to leave. The tension in the air was palpable as he stormed through the crowd, his exit as dramatic as his presence had been.

As the crowd dispersed, Ella’s initial fascination gave way to a reaffirmed belief that he was indeed not the type of person she should be drawn to. Yet as she turned to follow Zoe deeper into the party, her foot brushed against something small and metallic on the floor. Bending down, she picked up a silver hoop earring with a tiny skull dangling from it. It was undoubtedly his—she had seen the flash of it earlier when he was arguing.

Ella slipped the silver earring into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the cool metal. She felt a pulse of nervous excitement—keeping something that clearly wasn’t hers was out of character for her, but tonight felt different somehow. She glanced around, half expecting someone to have noticed her pick it up, but everyone was too caught up in the aftermath of the brief fight and the ongoing revelry.

“Hey, Earth to Ella!” Zoe’s voice snapped her back to reality. Zoe was beaming, a plastic cup in her hand, her other arm draped around a friend she’d run into. “You’re missing all the fun standing over here by yourself!”

Ella managed a small smile, tucking her hands into the pockets of her dress. “I think I’m just going to watch for a bit,” she said, her voice nearly lost in the booming bass of the music.

Zoe frowned slightly, her eyes scanning Ella’s withdrawn posture. “You promised me an hour, remember? Come on, at least try to have a little fun!” Zoe grabbed Ella’s hand, pulling her towards the dance floor.

“I don’t really know how to…you know, do this,” Ella protested, gesturing to the crowd of dancing students.

“Just follow my lead!” Zoe shouted back cheerfully, already moving to the rhythm of the music. She started dancing, her movements exaggerated to make Ella laugh. “See? Just let go!”

Ella hesitated, then awkwardly began to sway, her movements stiff and self-conscious. She couldn’t help but feel out of place, her eyes darting around to see if anyone was watching her.

“No one’s judging, Ella! It’s just us here,” Zoe reassured her, twirling around with effortless grace. “Forget everyone else!”

“I’m trying,” Ella replied, her voice a mixture of amusement and anxiety. She allowed herself a few more tentative movements, inspired by Zoe’s infectious enthusiasm.

As the song shifted to a slower, mellower tune, Zoe leaned in close to speak. “There you go! It’s not so bad, right?”

“It’s… different,” Ella admitted, her gaze drifting over the crowd, thinking about the earring hidden in her pocket.

“Sometimes, different is good,” Zoe said, raising her cup in a toast to newfound experiences, her smile encouraging. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ella and Zoe trudged up the stairs to their dorm room, the former’s steps weighed down by exhaustion, while the latter buzzed with leftover adrenaline from the party. As soon as they entered their shared space, Zoe flopped onto her bed, her voice still vibrant with excitement.

“Did you see that dance-off? It was absolutely insane! And then Ryan trying to do a keg stand? Oh my God, I thought I’d die laughing!” Zoe recounted the highlights with animated gestures, her laughter filling the room.

Ella, on the other hand, moved sluggishly to her side of the room, dropping her bag by her desk. She felt as though she had absorbed enough noise and chaos for a lifetime in just one evening. “Yeah, it was something,” she managed to respond, her voice low and tired.

While Zoe continued to chatter about every detail, Ella began the nighttime routine, mechanically changing into her pajamas and washing her face. Her movements were slow, her mind still processing the night’s events. As she pulled her dress over her head, the earring she’d pocketed earlier fell onto the bed. Its metallic clink momentarily drew Zoe’s attention.

“Hey, what’s that?” Zoe asked, sitting up.

“Just something I found on the floor,” Ella replied quickly, picking it up. She turned the earring over in her hand, the skull’s tiny jaws seeming to smirk up at her.

Zoe shrugged, uninterested in a lost earring, and dove back into her story about the party, detailing every conversation and encounter with gleeful exuberance. “And then, you won’t believe what happened with—”

Ella nodded along, but her focus narrowed to the cool metal between her fingers, the room around her fading out as she examined the intricate details of the earring. It felt almost heavy with significance, pulling her thoughts away from Zoe’s endless recap.

Time slipped by as Ella sat on her bed, the earring clasped in her palm, her mind adrift. It wasn’t until Zoe yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head, that Ella looked up. “I’m wiped. Goodnight, Ella,” Zoe said, flicking off the bedside lamp and plunging the room into darkness.

In the quiet that followed, Ella lay back on her pillow, the day’s exhaustion finally catching up to her. But before she could succumb to sleep, a curious impulse took hold. She reached up and removed one of her simple gold earrings, replacing it with Chase’s silver skull. The cool metal felt alien against her skin, yet oddly right.  As she drifted off to sleep, the weight of the earring tugged gently at her lobe. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ella’s sleep deepened into a dream, vivid and unsettling. In it, she found herself standing in front of a large, ornate mirror, but the reflection staring back at her was both familiar and utterly foreign. Her hair, typically a neat, soft brown cascade, was now dyed a bold jet black, falling in loose, tousled waves around her shoulders. Her makeup was dramatically different: dark eyeliner rimmed her eyes, giving them a smoky, mysterious allure, and her lips were painted a deep, seductive red. The conservative clothes she usually favored were replaced by a tight leather jacket and a ripped, dark tank top that revealed a series of intricate tattoos snaking up her arms and neck.

Ella reached out to touch the mirror, her fingers trembling as they traced the reflection that should have been hers but felt like a stranger’s. Her mind recoiled at the sight, a visceral rejection of this transformation, yet her heart thudded with an unfamiliar excitement. She felt a pull, a longing for something—or someone—her body seemingly recognizing what her mind refused to accept.

The dream shifted, and she was walking through a dense, foggy cityscape, the streets alive with the buzz of neon lights and the distant echo of music. She moved with a confidence she didn’t know she possessed, her heels clicking against the wet pavement, drawing curious glances from passersby. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching, always searching for a face she couldn’t quite bring to mind but felt desperate to see.

As she turned a corner, the fog parted, and there he was—Chase, leaning against a brick wall under the dim glow of a streetlamp. His green eyes found hers instantly, and the connection was immediate, an electric charge that zipped through her body, leaving her breathless. He smiled, that dangerous, alluring smile, and extended a hand towards her.

Ella stepped forward, drawn irresistibly towards him, every step amplifying the magnetic pull she felt. Just as their fingers were about to touch, her heart racing with anticipation, she woke up.  Ella gasped, sitting upright in her dark room, the dream fading but the sensations lingering—her body still tingling from the imagined touch, her heart still pounding.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The remainder of the night was a murky blend of restlessness for Ella, each turn and toss in her bed punctuated by a vague sense of agitation. When morning light finally spilled into their dorm room, it did little to lift the heaviness that had settled over her. Her eyes fluttered open, her mind foggy and her mood sour.

Zoe, ever the morning person, greeted her with a cheery, “Good morning!” as she slipped on her shoes, ready for an early class. Ella, however, could only muster a grunt in response, pulling the covers up over her head in a feeble attempt to block out both the light and her roommate’s enthusiasm.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not usually this grumpy,” Zoe said, pausing in her routine, her voice tinged with concern.

“I just didn’t sleep well,” Ella mumbled from beneath the covers, her voice muffled and irritable. She felt a strange resentment brewing within her, irritation at Zoe’s brightness, at the daylight, at her disrupted sleep—all feelings that were unfamiliar in their intensity.

“Okay, well, I’ll grab us some coffee on my way back. That should help, right?” Zoe offered, trying to inject some optimism into the morning.

Ella responded with only a noncommittal hum, her mind already drifting to the day ahead. She had a study group session planned before her literature class, a usually welcome routine that now felt unbearably tedious. As Zoe left the room, Ella finally sat up, the remnants of her dream lingering like a shadow in her thoughts.

With a sigh, she swung her legs off the bed and reached for her phone, typing out a quick message to her study group: “Can’t make it today. Too tired.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zoe returned to their dorm room, balancing two steaming cups of coffee, her steps careful to avoid spilling. “Got your favorite—extra shot, just how you like it,” Zoe announced as she placed a cup on Ella’s desk, her voice bright and hopeful that the caffeine might lift her friend’s spirits.

Ella looked up, her eyes bleary, but managed a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Zoe. I really need it,” she said, her tone softer than before but still edged with fatigue.

Zoe sat on the edge of her own bed, sipping her coffee and watching Ella for a moment. “You sure you’re okay? You seem more out of it than just a bad night’s sleep.”

Ella wrapped her hands around the warm cup, the heat seeping into her fingers, comforting yet not enough to ease the deeper, restless tension. “I’m just tired, Zoe. The party and all… it wasn’t really restful,” she replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the dark liquid, avoiding Zoe’s concerned eyes.

Zoe nodded, accepting the explanation at face value. “I get it. Well, I’ll be heading out in a bit. Got a class soon. You sure you don’t need anything else?”

“No, that’s all. Thanks for the coffee,” Ella said, forcing another smile. Her response was curt, not from any resentment toward Zoe, but from a deep-seated desire to be left alone with her thoughts and the lingering shadows of her unsettling dream.

“Alright, then. Take it easy, okay? Text me if you need anything,” Zoe said as she gathered her things, her tone still cheerful yet tinged with a hint of worry for her friend.

Once Zoe had left, Ella took a deep breath, relieved to have the room to herself again. She appreciated Zoe’s efforts and the coffee, but solitude was what she craved now. Ella felt a momentary gratitude for Zoe’s understanding, for knowing when to push for interaction and when to let her be. With each sip, she hoped the caffeine would clear her mind, pushing the remnants of her troubled sleep further away. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ella’s sour mood lingered into her day on campus. During a lecture in her literature class, the professor posed a question about the moral ambiguity in “Wuthering Heights,” expecting the usual thoughtful response from Ella. Instead, her reply was tinged with a sharp cynicism that took the room by surprise.

“Isn’t it just a tale of obsession and dysfunction?” Ella interjected, her tone dismissive. “I mean, we dress it up as romantic, but it’s really just about people ruining each other’s lives.”

The professor, taken aback, adjusted his glasses. “Well, that’s certainly one perspective, Ella. It’s quite a shift from your usual take on the novel’s themes. Would you care to elaborate on that point?”

“Not really,” Ella shrugged, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms. “Seems pretty clear to me.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, her classmates exchanging confused glances. This was not the Ella they knew, the one who always illuminated hidden layers of text with her insightful comments.

Later, at the campus café, she encountered a couple of her study group members. “Hey, Ella, we missed you this morning. Everything okay?” one of them asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Ella sipped her coffee, her eyes cool as she replied, “Yeah, I just decided I had better things to do.”

The group member frowned, unsure how to respond. “Well, if you need the notes, I can send them over.”

Ella waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t bother, I’m sure I’ll figure it out on my own.”

As she walked away, her friend muttered to the other, “What’s gotten into her?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Ella stormed back into their dorm room, the air thickened with her brooding energy. Zoe, ever the optimist, looked up from her laptop, a bright smile ready to greet her roommate.

“Hey, wild child! How was the day in the wild world of academia?” Zoe chirped, her tone light and teasing.

Ella threw her backpack onto her bed with unnecessary force, her mood as dark as the evening sky outside. “Spare me the cheer, Zoe.”

Zoe’s eyebrows raised slightly, taken aback by the sharpness in Ella’s voice. “Okay, tough day then. Wanna talk about it, or should I disappear into my headphones and give you space?”

“Disappearing sounds like a great idea,” Ella muttered, her words slicing through the room’s previous warmth.

Zoe paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She was trying to maintain her cheerful demeanor, but Ella’s attitude was making it difficult. “Look, Ella, if something’s wrong, I’m here. But you don’t need to bite my head off.”

“Why? Because Miss Sunshine can’t handle a little cloud?” Ella retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

This was not the Ella that Zoe knew, and her patience was wearing thin. “You know what? Do whatever you want, Ella. I’m not going to sit here and be your punching bag.”

Ella smirked as Zoe’s frustration became evident. There was a twisted part of her that enjoyed the sharp exchange, the control she felt in steering the mood wherever she wished. “Fine by me,” she said coldly.

With a sigh of exasperation, Zoe shut her laptop a bit more forcefully than necessary and stood up. “I’m going to my room. Text me when you’re ready to be civil.”

Watching Zoe retreat to her bedroom and close the door behind her, Ella felt a perverse thrill at having pushed her roommate to the brink. She leaned back against her pillow, a smirk playing on her lips. The closed door was a small victory, a sign that she could dominate the mood and space, bending it to her will—even if it was just within the confines of their shared dorm. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the solitude of the bathroom, Ella turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her shoulders. She stepped under the stream, her thoughts a whirlwind of the recent confrontations and the unsettling enjoyment they brought her. As she reached for her shampoo, her eyes caught something odd in the water swirling at her feet—it was tinged with a murky brown hue.

Frowning, Ella touched her hair, feeling the strands between her fingers. The water continued to run darker, like a diluted ink, pooling around her. Panic fluttered in her chest, and she quickly finished rinsing, shutting off the shower with a swift movement.

Stepping out and reaching for her towel, Ella’s heart raced. She avoided the mirror as she dried off, afraid of what she might see. But curiosity and a rising sense of inevitability drew her gaze upwards. When she finally looked at her reflection, her breath caught.

Ella stared at her reflection, the shock of her stark black hair contrasting sharply with her pale skin slowly giving way to a different emotion—an intrigued fascination. The silver skull seemed to smirk at her, its presence a reassurance. Rather than fear or confusion, a strange calm settled over her. She tilted her head, examining her new appearance with a growing sense of satisfaction. The black hair matched the earring.

As she watched herself, a thought flickered in her mind, a thrilling possibility that she could be someone else—not just the quiet, bookish Ella, but someone noticeable, someone who didn’t blend into the background. The idea was intoxicating. For the first time, she could be the kind of person who commanded attention the moment she walked into a room.

“Maybe this is who I’m supposed to be,” Ella murmured, her voice a mix of wonder and resolve. The fear that had initially tinged her discovery was receding, overtaken by a rush of excitement.

Her hand lingered in her hair, now styled in a way that seemed to invite glances rather than avoid them. The earring, with its grim but stylish skull, seemed to agree, its presence a constant whisper of encouragement. The allure of this new persona was powerful, drawing out a part of her that wanted to be seen and admired.

As she stepped away from the mirror, a smile crept over her face—not the timid, tentative smile she was used to, but a confident, daring one. The thought of drawing eyes, of stirring whispers and turning heads, was no longer something to shy away from but something to anticipate. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After leaving the bathroom, Ella returned to her room, still absorbing the dramatic change in her appearance. She approached her wardrobe, ready to pull out one of her usual outfits—a cardigan and some neat jeans. However, as she opened the drawers and closet, she found that her clothing seemed to have transformed just as radically as her hair. 

Gone were the conservative cardigans and simple blouses she was accustomed to. Instead, her eyes fell upon an array of dark, edgy garments that seemed to resonate with her new jet black hair. Ripped jeans, dark t-shirts emblazoned with bold graphics, and even a leather jacket—all of it felt strangely right.

With a mix of bewilderment and excitement, Ella selected a pair of ripped black jeans and a dark, fitted shirt. The fabric felt different under her fingers, more rebellious and daring than anything she’d ever owned. She dressed quickly, her reflection in the mirror now almost a perfect match for the woman in her dream.

Feeling a newfound energy and an urge to explore this different side of herself, Ella decided to head out for the night. She grabbed the leather jacket, its weight comforting and empowering as she slipped it on. With one last look in the mirror, she adjusted the earring—the catalyst of this transformation—and felt a confident smirk form on her lips.

Ella was zipping up her leather jacket when she caught her reflection in the mirror one last time. A new detail caught her eye—a tattoo, curling elegantly around her neck, its dark ink blending seamlessly with her new jet black hair. The design was bold, a stark contrast to the Ella of yesterday. She smirked, a flash of satisfaction crossing her face at the sight of this latest transformation. It was as if each new change anchored her further into this new identity.

Just as she was about to turn away from the mirror and leave, the door to Zoe’s bedroom creaked open. Zoe stepped out, her expression a mixture of worry and hope, holding a tentative peace offering—a cup of tea, Ella’s favorite.

“Hey, I thought maybe we could talk—” Zoe began, her voice soft, but Ella cut her off, her tone harsh and biting.

“Talk? Like you think a cup of tea is going to fix this?” Ella snapped, stepping closer, her presence intimidating. As she moved into the light, Zoe’s eyes widened, taking in the jet-black hair and the bold new tattoo peeking out from under Ella’s hair.

Zoe, taken aback, set the cup down on a nearby table. Her eyes flickered between the unsettling changes and Ella’s fierce gaze, a mix of confusion and fear clouding her features. “Ella, I’m just trying to understand what’s happening with you. This isn’t you. Your hair, the tattoo… What’s going on?”

Ella’s eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms defensively. “Maybe I’m tired of being the same old Ella you want me to be,” she retorted, her voice icy.

Zoe swallowed hard, her fear evident. She knew things like dramatic hair changes and spontaneous tattoos didn’t just happen; something significant was amiss. “Ella, these changes… they’re not just about hair or ink. There’s something else, isn’t there? Please, talk to me. Let me help.” 

But Ella just scoffed, turning away, leaving Zoe with her fears and unanswered questions hanging heavily in the air.

“No,” Ella retorted sharply, her face inches from Zoe’s. The argument escalated quickly, words sharp and accusing. Without thinking, Ella’s hand shot out, grabbing Zoe’s arm tightly, her fingers digging in. Zoe gasped, pain flickering across her face.

“Let go, Ella, you’re hurting me!” Zoe cried out, her voice shaky.

The realization of what she was doing barely registered with Ella. Instead of horror, a thrill surged through her veins, empowering and dark. She released Zoe abruptly, who stumbled back towards her room, her eyes wide and fearful.

As Zoe retreated and shut her door, a silence fell. Breathing heavily, Ella glanced around and noticed Zoe’s purse left carelessly on the couch. A wicked impulse took hold, and she rifled through it quickly, her fingers closing around a wad of cash. She pocketed it without a second thought, the act fueling the reckless, burgeoning chaos within her.

Leaving the apartment, Ella felt an eerie calm settle over her. The night outside beckoned, promising more opportunities and the allure of new adventures. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Ella stepped into the cool night air, her transformation continued, each stride taking her further from who she had been. She walked with a growing confidence, her steps echoing assertively on the sidewalk. Unseen by her, the fabric of her jeans tightened and shifted, morphing seamlessly into a tight black skirt that hugged her curves. The transformation didn’t stop there; her practical boots elongated into spiked high heels, adding a dangerous elegance to her walk.

Her top altered next, the material clinging closer to her skin, receding slightly to reveal her toned stomach. A new tattoo, intricate and bold, appeared on her lower back. Each change fueled Ella’s confidence, her posture straightening and her gaze hardening.

People on the street began to notice her—the transformation was not only in her appearance but in the air around her, charged with an edgy energy. Men turned to look, their gazes lingering a little too long, drawn by her striking appearance and the air of danger that now surrounded her. Ella caught their stares and, feeling a rush of power, met their eyes with a fierce, challenging glare.

“Fuck off,” she snapped sharply at one particularly bold onlooker, her voice cold and commanding. Her heart raced not with fear, but with a thrilling rush of dominance. She was untouchable, in control, and it exhilarated her.

Yet, deep down, a part of her recognized that all this—the clothes, the attitude, the cold dismissals—was for one person’s attention. Chase. The image of him, that initial magnetic pull she had felt at the party, lingered at the back of her mind, guiding her steps. She was transforming into someone who might catch his eye, someone who could match his wildness step for step.

Ella continued down the street, each confident, aggressive step taking her closer to an unknown destiny, driven by the mysterious, transformative power of the earring and the image of the man who had unknowingly set this change in motion. Her heart was set; she would find Chase, and she would be ready for him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ella approached the entrance of the bar, its reputation as the roughest spot in the area evident in the dim lighting and the low hum of gritty music spilling from within. The bouncer, a large man with a skeptical eye, stood firmly at the door, his presence enough to deter any trouble before it started. He gave Ella a long, assessing look not recognizing her as one of the regulars or expecting someone like her to come here alone.

As he opened his mouth, possibly to question her or turn her away, Ella met his gaze with a steely glare that halted him. Her voice was cool and firm, laced with an edge as sharp as the heels she wore. “You’re in my way,” she stated flatly, her tone brooking no argument.

The bouncer paused, taken aback by her confidence and the chill in her eyes. After a brief moment of tension, he stepped aside, a gesture of respect to her daring. Ella didn’t wait for a second prompt; she moved past him, her stride confident and purposeful.

Inside, the bar was alive with the clatter of pool balls, the murmur of rough voices, and the occasional burst of raucous laughter. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and smoke, the atmosphere exactly the kind of place Chase would frequent. Ella’s eyes scanned the room, searching for that familiar tousle of dark hair, that nonchalant posture that she now seemed drawn to like a magnet.

She walked further into the heart of the bar, her new tattoos and daring outfit drawing looks from the patrons. But with each step, her confidence grew, her heart beating a fierce rhythm of anticipation and the thrill of the hunt, ready to face whatever—or whoever—this night would bring. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ella’s gaze locked onto Chase the moment she spotted him at the back of the bar. He was leaning over a pool table, cue in hand, a playful smirk on his face as he lined up his shot. A girl was pressed close to him, her body language screaming of her desire to capture his attention. She was laughing, touching his arm, her body curved into his in a clear display of interest. Chase, for his part, seemed to enjoy the adoration, his arm casually draped around her.

Ella felt a surge of possessive irritation mixed with determination as she made her way through the crowd. Her steps were deliberate, her posture exuding the boldness of her transformed persona. As she approached, the girl glanced up, her eyes narrowing in a challenge, sensing Ella as a threat.

“Can I help you?” the girl sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

Ella stopped, just inches away, her eyes icy. “Yeah, you can start by getting your hands off him. He’s not interested.”

The girl scoffed, ready to retort, but something in Ella’s demeanor—a dark, dangerous edge—made her falter. Before she could recover, Ella reached out, her hand firm on the girl’s shoulder, and pushed her aside with surprising strength. It wasn’t harsh enough to cause a scene but was unmistakable in intent.

The girl stumbled back, her shock and embarrassment clear as she looked around, realizing that the other patrons were watching. Huffing, she collected her pride and quickly moved away, disappearing into the crowd to nurse her bruised ego.

Chase had watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. He straightened up, leaning his pool cue against the table and giving Ella a slow, appreciative look that took in her new appearance.

Chase watched the brief confrontation with a mix of amusement and intrigue. As the girl scurried away, his attention refocused on Ella, his eyes roving over her with renewed interest. The transformation she had undergone rendered her almost unrecognizable—darker, edgier, and exuding a fierce allure.

“Well, this is a surprise,” he said, his voice low and filled with a hint of admiration. “And you are?”

Ella met his gaze steadily, her smirk deepening. She leaned in close, her voice sultry and playful. “You can call me whatever you’d like, I’m all yours.”

Without waiting for his response, Ella placed her hand on his chest and pushed him gently but firmly against the wall. There was a brief moment where their eyes locked, a silent exchange of challenge and excitement, before she closed the gap, kissing him aggressively. Chase responded with equal fervor, his surprise swiftly turning into enthusiasm as he wrapped his arms around her, drawn into the intensity she brought with her. 

Ella’s grip on Chase’s hand was firm and confident as she led him towards the exit of the bar. The man Chase had been playing pool with, perhaps feeling abandoned mid-game or simply unwilling to let Chase leave without a comment, called out to him.

“Hey, where you think you’re going, man?”

Without slowing her stride, Ella turned, a dangerous glint in her eye. In a swift, almost reflexive motion, she reached out with her other hand, her long, sharp nails raking across the man’s face, leaving thin red marks that started to well with blood. Before he could react to the shock and pain, she drove her knee up sharply into his groin, sending him doubling over in agony.

Chase watched the swift and brutal response, his expression one of mixed shock and admiration. Instead of being appalled, a wicked grin spread across his face. He seemed to thrive on the chaos, the unpredictability of it all fueling his attraction to this new, fierce version of Ella.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the sounds of the bar and the groans of the injured man behind them, Chase pulled Ella closer, his voice low and filled with excitement. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Ella looked up at him, her pulse racing with adrenaline and the dark thrill of the night. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” she replied, her voice sultry and promising more adventures to come.

They walked away, hand in hand, disappearing into the night, each step taking Ella further from her old self and deeper into this new world that she was now a part of, alongside Chase. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months later, Zoe was enjoying herself at a lively campus party, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and loud music. She had gradually adjusted to life without Ella, though there was always a lingering sadness about how things had turned out. The room was filled with laughter and dancing, and Zoe was determined to make the most of it.

As she chatted with friends, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught her attention. Conversations faltered and music continued to blare, but many eyes turned towards the entrance. Zoe followed their gazes and her heart sank a little.

Ella and Chase stormed into the party, their presence commanding immediate attention. They were dressed in edgy, eye-catching outfits that spoke of their newfound wild lifestyle. Ella, with her jet-black hair and the bold tattoos visible along her arms and neck, walked with a swagger that matched Chase’s. His arm was around her waist, pulling her close as they laughed loudly at something only they found amusing.

The couple’s reputation had grown; they were now known across campus as the wildest, most unpredictable pair around. Stories of their escapades, from late-night brawls to reckless street races, had become part of the college lore. Ella had dropped out of her classes, and the bright, thoughtful student Zoe once knew was now a figure of campus controversy, always at Chase’s side, always in the middle of trouble.

As they made their way through the party, a path cleared for them. Some looked on with a mix of fear, admiration, and disapproval, but no one wanted to get too close. The transformation was complete; Ella and Chase were a force unto themselves, a duo that thrived on chaos and defiance.

Zoe watched them, a complex mix of emotions swirling inside her. There was sadness for the loss of the friend she once had, confusion over the drastic changes, and a faint hope that someday, Ella might find her way back. For now, though, she turned back to her friends, focusing on the present moment, trying to enjoy the night despite the poignant reminder of how much had changed.

As Zoe tried to refocus on the lively conversation with her friends, the disruptive energy of Ella and Chase grew stronger, creeping closer until it was unavoidable. Ella, with a sharp glint in her eye that Zoe recognized all too well, suddenly broke away from Chase and made a beeline towards her.

The crowd seemed to part instinctively as Ella approached, her smirk wide and menacing. Zoe’s heart rate picked up, a sense of dread settling in. 

“Hey, Zoe,” Ella greeted her, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Not hiding in your room tonight?”

Zoe tried to muster a smile, an uneasy laugh escaping her. “Just enjoying the party, Ella.”

Ella leaned in close, her presence overwhelming. “Really? Because it looks like you were just leaving. Maybe that’s for the best, don’t you think?” Her tone was sharp, challenging.

The underlying threat in Ella’s words wasn’t lost on Zoe. Feeling the eyes of the partygoers on her, Zoe’s discomfort grew. She didn’t want to cause a scene, nor did she feel brave enough to confront this new version of Ella.

“You’re probably right,” Zoe conceded softly, her voice barely audible over the music. Without another word, she turned and quickly made her way towards the exit, her exit as low-key as possible.

Ella watched Zoe leave, a triumphant laugh escaping her lips. She turned back to Chase, who had observed the exchange with a smirk of his own. They shared a look of mutual satisfaction before diving back into the raucous energy of the party, leaving Zoe’s retreating figure behind.

Zoe stepped out into the cool night air, her emotions churned with sadness, anger, and a faint trace of relief. Taking one last glance back into the party, she saw Ella and Chase, their figures intertwined in a wild, reckless embrace.

They were in the center of the room, heedless of the eyes on them, passionately making out. Their hands roamed freely over each other.  It was clear they relished not just each other but also the impact their display had on the crowd; they seemed to thrive on the discomfort and attention.

Zoe’s gaze lingered on the scene just a moment longer, the image searing itself into her memory—the way Ella laughed into Chase’s kiss, her eyes alight with a wild joy that came from pushing boundaries and challenging everyone around her. Turning away, Zoe felt a deep sorrow for the loss of the Ella she had known.

[ironpatriot2099]

Punked

This is my half of a story swap with @nihility-of-darkness. It is a bit long (8k words) but I really enjoyed this transformation. I hope you enjoy it too. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking down the dimly lit street, Rachel tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear and glanced up at Chris, a small smile playing on her lips. “So, how was the day at the precinct?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. The modest elegance of her dress fluttered lightly with the evening breeze, a contrast to the seriousness often found in Chris’s day-to-day.

Chris let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, the weight of the day momentarily visible in his eyes before he masked it with a smile for Rachel. “The usual chaos, you know. Paperwork that seems to regenerate overnight and a couple of cases that don’t want to get solved. But enough about me. How was the bookstore today? Any interesting characters wander in?”

Rachel’s face lit up at the mention of her workplace. “Actually, yes. There was this little boy, no older than seven, who came in insisting on buying a book about space with his own money. He was so determined to learn about the stars,” she recounted, her enthusiasm infectious. “It’s moments like those that make me love my job even more.”

Chris chuckled, the tension from his day visibly melting away with Rachel’s story. “You always did have a way of finding the magic in everyday moments,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

Their peaceful night took a sudden turn when they came upon a scene straight out of Chris’s workday: a group of punks was harassing an older woman, attempting to steal her purse. Without hesitation, Chris let go of Rachel’s hand.

“Stay here,” he instructed, moving forward to intervene. His voice, when he spoke to the assailants, was authoritative and calm, “Let her go.”

Rachel watched from a short distance, her anxiety visible. Chris managed to subdue the punks with surprising efficiency, restraining them until he could call for backup on his phone. Within minutes, police sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as reinforcements approached.

As the police took the punks into custody, the leader, his gaze fixed on Chris and Rachel, caught Chris protectively wrapping his arm around Rachel. In that moment, the punk shouted something, his voice carrying a menacing tone that cut through the night air. The curse was loud, clear, and unmistakably directed at them.

“What did he just say?” Rachel’s voice trembled slightly as she turned to look at Chris, seeking reassurance.

Chris’s face was set in a frown, a mix of confusion and concern. “I’m not sure, I didn’t understand the language he was using. Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it.

“Are you okay?” she pressed, her eyes searching his for any sign of what he truly felt.

“Yeah, I’m fine. More importantly, are you?” Chris’s concern shifted back to Rachel, reinforcing the protective bubble he always tried to maintain around her.

“I’m okay,” she responded, her voice steadier. “Let’s not let this ruin our evening.”

They resumed their walk, attempting to reclaim the peace of their earlier night, but neither Chris nor Rachel were able to shake the uncomfortable feeling of the encounter.

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Chris walked into the apartment, the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. The case he’d been working on had taken a difficult turn, and it had demanded more of his time than he’d anticipated. As he closed the door behind him, the comforting aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him, instantly lightening his mood. Rachel had prepared dinner, and even though he was late, the table was set, and the food was kept warm, waiting for him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Chris apologized as he saw Rachel, who was tidying up the kitchen. Her gentle demeanor and understanding smile were a balm to his frayed nerves.

“It’s okay, I figured it was something important at work. Sit down, dinner’s ready,” Rachel responded, her tone soothing. Despite the delay, her patience was unwavering, a trait Chris had always admired.

As Chris began to eat, grateful for the meal in front of him, he noticed Rachel sitting across from him, her attention partially on a book she was reading. However, it wasn’t the book that caught his eye; it was the absent-minded doodling she was doing on her arm. A small, but unmistakable drawing of a skull and crossbones had begun to take shape under her pen.

“Is that a skull and crossbones?” Chris asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. It was an unusual choice for Rachel, whose aesthetic and personality seemed so at odds with the symbol she was sketching.

Rachel looked down at her arm, seemingly surprised to find the doodle there herself. “Oh, this? I didn’t even realize I was doing it. Just feeling a bit fidgety, I guess,” she said with a slight laugh, brushing it off as nothing more than a random distraction.

Rachel glanced once more at the drawing on her arm, a small concentration frown creasing her brow. Without further comment, she quickly wiped the pen ink off her arm, erasing the skull and crossbones. The ink smeared slightly against her skin before it was gone, leaving no trace of the doodle behind.

She then turned her attention back to her book, immersing herself in the world of words and stories, her earlier fidgetiness seemingly forgotten. 

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Chris was still asleep when the sound of Rachel moving around the apartment more loudly than usual started to seep into his consciousness. The sound of drawers being opened a bit too forcefully and objects being set down harder than needed suggested she was in a hurry or perhaps a bit agitated.

Then, quite distinctly, Rachel’s voice cut through the semi-silence of the morning. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, a word not typically in her calm and collected vocabulary.

Chris’s eyes snapped open, and he was instantly alert. “Rachel? What’s wrong?” he called out, concern evident in his voice.

“It’s stupid, I can’t find my bookmark. The one I always use,” Rachel’s voice floated back, a mix of irritation and disbelief coloring her tone. The frustration over such a small detail was unusual for her; Rachel was the type of person who approached most of life’s minor inconveniences with patience.

Chris sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That doesn’t sound like you. Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice was full of concern, not just for the missing bookmark but for the noticeable shift in Rachel’s behavior.

“I don’t know… I’m just not feeling like myself this morning,” Rachel admitted, her frustration giving way to a hint of confusion over her own reaction.

A few moments later, she came into view at the bedroom doorway, ready for work but visibly off, her usual morning brightness dimmed. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late,” she said, attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Okay, see you tonight. Take care,” Chris replied, watching her leave before falling back to sleep.

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Rachel was behind the counter at the bookstore, focusing on a book reading.  As she read, the pen in her hand seemingly moved almost of its own accord. Over time, small but elaborate doodles began to populate her left arm.

Later on, customers came and went, greeted by Rachel’s now somewhat distracted presence. Uncharacteristically, her language had taken a casual turn, sprinkled with curse words that slipped out as naturally as any other word. “Yeah, that book is fucking fantastic, you’ve got to check it out,” she recommended to a customer, not even flinching at her own language.

It wasn’t until a coworker, Jenna, pulled her aside that Rachel became aware of her actions. “Hey, Rachel, you okay? It’s not like you to…well, curse so much. And what’s with the arm art?” Jenna’s tone was a mix of concern and confusion, her brow furrowed as she gestured to Rachel’s doodle-covered arm.

Rachel glanced down at her arm, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn’t realized she’d been drawing on herself again, let alone cursing in front of customers. “Oh my God, I… I didn’t even notice. I’m so sorry,” she stammered, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She quickly tried to rub off the pen marks with her hand, but they only smeared.

“Don’t worry about it too much. Just maybe keep an eye on it? And maybe lay off the sailor talk in front of the customers,” Jenna suggested gently, giving Rachel’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading back to work.

Rachel stood there for a moment, mortified. This wasn’t like her at all. She’d always prided herself on her professionalism and poise, especially in her work environment. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to pay more attention to her actions.

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Rachel stepped into the apartment, immediately enveloped by the savory aroma of dinner cooking. Chris, wanting to make up for the previous night’s missed dinner, had taken it upon himself to prepare a meal. The rich, inviting smell prompted Rachel to exclaim, “Wow, this smells fucking amazing!” as she threw her arms around Chris, planting a big, wet kiss on his lips.

The intensity of her greeting and choice of words took Chris by surprise. This kind of language and the level of affection were uncharacteristic for Rachel, especially right after walking through the door. He noticed something else, too—an ink smear on Rachel’s arm, which stood out against her skin. 

“Been doodling on yourself again?” Chris asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he tried to lighten the moment.

Rachel looked puzzled for a second. “How’d you guess? Oh, right, detective skills,” she quipped, following his gaze to her arm. Noticing the smear, she added, somewhat loudly and with a brashness that wasn’t typical for her, “Yeah, I guess I fucking got carried away.”

Her tone shifted abruptly, as if she suddenly became aware of how she sounded. “I, um, I’ll just go clean up before dinner,” she said, her voice returning to its usual, softer register. With a quick, somewhat embarrassed smile, she headed to the bathroom to wash off the ink.

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Chris and Rachel sat at their dining table for dinner. Chris sat upright, his detective eyes always attentive. Across from him, Rachel slouching yet jittery. Her once long blonde hair messily cut to shoulder length.

Chris looked at Rachel questioningly. “Why did you cut your hair?”

“I don’t know,” she replied truthfully. “I was in the bathroom cleaning up and just decided it needed to be shorter.”

Chris wanted to press, but decided against it. As the meal continued, Rachel launched into an excited recount of her day.

“You won’t believe what happened today,” Rachel began, her voice louder and more animated than usual. “This guy walks into the store, right? And he’s looking for this book that’s basically impossible to find. So, I’m there, trying to help him, and I swear, I almost said, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ But I caught myself.” She laughed, a bit too loudly, and continued, “I mean, who does that five minutes before closing?”

Chris smiled, noting the slight edge to her language. “Sounds like you handled it pretty well, though.”

Rachel nodded, her leg bouncing under the table. “Yeah, but that’s not the best part. So, I start looking through the database, and—oh, this is the kicker—I actually find it!” Her voice soared with excitement. “I was so surprised; I almost let out a ‘shit’ right in front of him. But, you know, professionalism and all that.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, amusement mingling with concern. “Sounds like an eventful day. I can’t remember the last time I heard you curse so much, though.”

“Oh?” Rachel paused, her fork midway to her mouth. For a moment, her demeanor shifted back to her usual self, more measured and calm. “I guess I did get a bit carried away. It’s just been one of those days, you know?”

Her expression sobered as she continued, “Anyway, after that, I spent some time reorganizing the back shelf. It was kind of therapeutic, actually.” Her voice had softened, returning to the familiar, gentle tone Chris was accustomed to.

Chris nodded, listening intently. “That sounds more like the Rachel I know. Reorganizing shelves and finding lost books.”

Rachel smiled, a genuine, softer expression crossing her face. “Yeah, it’s the little victories, right?” Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her enthusiasm reignited. “Oh, and guess what else? I fucking—oops,” she caught herself with a quick glance at Chris, “I mean, I managed to sell that rare first edition we got last week. Can you believe it?”

Chris chuckled, though the concern didn’t quite leave his eyes. “That’s great, Rachel. Really. Just…watch the language, maybe?”

Rachel’s cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment. “Right. Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.”

Chris’s expression turned serious as he broached a topic of his own. “I’ve got some news from work,” he began, pausing to make sure he had Rachel’s full attention. “We received a tip. There’s a gang leader coming into town, and I’m going to have to be away for a couple of days. The department needs all hands on deck.”

Rachel’s animated recounting slowed, her demeanor shifting as she absorbed Chris’s words. The fidgeting stopped momentarily, replaced by a look of concern. “That sounds serious,” she said, her voice losing its previous buoyancy. “Be careful, okay?”

Chris reached across the table, offering a reassuring squeeze to her hand. “I will. It’s just part of the job,” he replied, trying to ease her worry.

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That night, Rachel’s usual reserve was replaced by a noticeable boldness as they settled into bed. Without hesitation, she closed the distance between them, initiating a kiss with Chris that carried an assertiveness he hadn’t seen in her before.

“Rachel, wow, I’m not used to this… but I’m definitely not against it,” Chris said, a mix of surprise and delight in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I just felt like it,” Rachel replied, her tone bolder than before. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no problem at all,” Chris quickly reassured her, his voice laced with affection and a hint of amusement at her newfound forthrightness. “I love this side of you, too.”

“Good, because I fucking love you, Chris. And I want to be close to you, now more than ever,” Rachel said, the curse word slipping out effortlessly, as if it were a natural part of her vocabulary now.

Chris paused for a moment, taking in her words and the intensity behind them. “I love you too, Rachel. More than anything,” he responded. 

They went back to kissing and enjoying each other’s bodies.

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The next day, with Chris away on his stakeout, Rachel was tidying up some shelves when two men entered, immediately drawing her attention with the distinctive scent they carried. The smell intrigued her, lingering pleasantly in her nostrils.

Approaching the men who were perusing the fiction aisle, Rachel couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Hey, need any help finding something?” she offered, her voice carrying her newfound boldness.

The man in the leather jacket turned to her, a friendly grin on his face. “Nah, we’re just browsing, thanks. Got any recommendations, though?”

“Sure, a ton,” Rachel started, then, without thinking, blurted out, “But, damn, what’s that smell? It’s really good.”

The men looked at each other, slightly taken aback but amused. “Uh, probably just our cigarettes,” the man replied, his grin widening. “Didn’t think they’d be a hit, especially indoors.”

Rachel laughed, louder than she intended, her internal filter on vacation. “Well, shit, I usually can’t stand cigarette smoke, but you guys must have some magic brand or something.”

From a few feet away, Jenna, her coworker, couldn’t hide her dismay. “They smell like cigarettes, Rachel. That’s it. Cigarettes,” she said flatly before walking off, clearly not sharing Rachel’s sudden appreciation.

The exchange left Rachel momentarily confused. She shrugged off the moment, focusing back on the men with a shake of her head and a puzzled smile.

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Rachel sat at her kitchen table.  The room was quiet except the sound of the soft scratching of pen on skin. With a lit cigarette hanging from her lips, she meticulously drew an elaborate design.  Each line and curve flowing into the next, shaping into what was unmistakably a phoenix rising from flames.

The centerpiece of her makeshift tattoo was the phoenix itself, its wings outstretched in defiance, detailed with sharp, angular lines for a modern, edgy flair. The feathers were adorned with geometric patterns and spikes, a nod to the punk culture’s aesthetic of rebellion and resilience. Surrounding the mythical bird were flames, but these weren’t just any flames; they were intricately designed to resemble barbed wire and chains.

Every so often, Rachel paused to take a drag from her cigarette, examining her work with a sense of satisfaction that seemed to fill the room alongside the smoke.  As she finished the last touches on her design, Rachel leaned back, and stretched her arms above her head. She glanced at her work.

“Fuck yeah,” she smirked.  “Tomorrow, this is going to get inked for real.”

She took one last drag and then put out her cigarette directly on the table leaving a small burn mark in the otherwise clean tabletop.

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Late into the night, Chris finally made his way back to the apartment, exhausted from the stakeout. The first thing he noticed as he opened the door was the unusual smell of smoke that seemed to have permeated their home. Before he could process this further, Rachel was upon him, her energy and affection undeniable as she showered him with kisses and wrapped him in a tight embrace. 

“I fucking missed you so much,” she said between kisses, her words laced with a fervor that was new to Chris.

Taken aback not only by her language but also by the taste of smoke on her breath, Chris gently pulled back. “Rachel, you taste like smoke. Have you been smoking?” he asked, concern creasing his brow.

At first, Rachel tried to brush off his concern with a wave of her hand and a dismissive laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just trying something new,” she said, attempting to redirect his attention.

However, Chris persisted, his worry evident. “Rachel, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

It was then that Rachel seemed to come back to herself, the flurry of affection pausing as she met his gaze. For a moment, she dropped the cursing, her voice dropping to a softer, more troubled tone. “I don’t know, Chris. I just… I’ve been having these thoughts, these urges to smoke, curse, and just… throw myself at you. I tried fighting them, but they feel so natural now.”

Chris’s concern deepened at her admission. “Rachel, maybe you should see someone about this. A therapist could help sort out what you’re going through.”

The suggestion, however, sparked a defiant reaction from Rachel. “Therapy? I don’t fucking need therapy, Chris. This is just me being more… me, I guess.”

Noticing the weight of concern in Chris’s gaze, Rachel shifted her approach, her demeanor turning more playful and teasing, yet direct in her intentions. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a more suggestive tone, laced with her newfound habit of cursing.

“Hey, fuck the worries for now. How about we just go to bed? I promise to make it worth your while,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, her suggestion clear in the sparkle of her eyes.

Chris, despite the exhaustion clinging to his bones, found himself caught in the sudden shift in Rachel’s mood. “I’m really beat, Rach. The stakeout was a nightmare,” he tried to protest, the weariness evident in his voice.

But Rachel wasn’t having any of it. She wrapped her arms around him, her resolve clear. “Come on, don’t be such a fucking spoilsport. You need to relax, and I need… well, you. Get that cute ass in bed, detective,” she insisted, her language bold and filled with a playful directness that Chris hadn’t heard from her before.

Letting out a resigned yet amused sigh, Chris allowed himself to be led towards the bedroom, his concern temporarily shelved. As they crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room, he caught a glimpse of Rachel’s arm.

“Did you… get a tattoo?” Chris asked.

Rachel turned her arm, displaying the tattoo with a mix of pride and defiance. “Yeah, I fucking did. Pretty badass, right?”

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The next morning, Chris awoke to the inviting aroma of fresh coffee. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way into the kitchen, where the sight that greeted him was Rachel.

She was standing there, wearing only panties and a t-shirt that had been cut up in a way that it revealed much more of her body than any of her usual attire ever did. The shirt hung off her in tatters, deliberate cuts that turned it into something daring and bold. 

Offering Chris a mug of coffee with a wink and a swift kiss, her initial flirtiness was unmistakable. “Morning,” she chimed, her voice playful yet edged with something new.

“That’s quite the… look,” Chris remarked, trying to tread lightly, though he couldn’t mask his astonishment at her choice of attire.

Rachel’s flirtatious veneer cracked instantly, annoyance flashing across her face. “I’m so fucking tired of all my clothes. They’re just so damn boring,” she snapped, her frustration evident as she surveyed the remnants of her once-conservative wardrobe.

Without warning, her irritation seemed to evaporate as she grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the counter and lit it, a defiant gesture that was becoming all too familiar. “Fuck it, I’m not going to work today. I need to go shopping,” Rachel declared, her tone leaving no room for debate as she inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around her in a rebellious dance.

Chris, coffee forgotten, attempted to interject, “Rachel, what about your job? And… this isn’t like you. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

But Rachel was already dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand, the lit cigarette punctuating her movements. “I’m fine, Chris. Just need some new fucking clothes, that’s all,” she retorted, effectively closing the conversation as she exhaled a stream of smoke, her decision made.

No sooner had Rachel declared her intentions to skip work for a day of shopping, than her demeanor shifted once more. Her expression changing from annoyance and defiance, back into a sweet smile. She approached Chris, cigarette still in hand, and with a swift, fluid motion, straddled his lap at the kitchen table. 

Leaning in, Rachel planted a deep, passionate kiss on Chris, her tongue playfully teasing his.  The kiss lingered and Rachel felt Chris get hard, his cock pressing against her panties.  His breathing deepened.

Breaking off the kiss, she looked into his eyes, her expression softening even as her language retained its edge. “I’ll fucking call work and make sure it’s cool. Don’t worry about it,” she promised, a tender reassurance mingled with her now habitual cursing.

As she slid off his lap, she turned back to him.  “I fucking love you, Chris.”  Chris took a sip of his coffee when something soft hit him in the head.  Looking up, he saw a naked Rachel sauntering out of the kitchen toward the bedroom.

“You fucking better not keep me waiting,” he heard her call.

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Rachel found herself pushing open the door to the clothing store, one known for its alternative flair. The recent additions of shiny metal piercings adorning her ears felt like a badge of honor. As she perused through racks of leather and lace, her fingers brushed against the fabric.

Spotting a particularly daring set of outfits, Rachel couldn’t help but imagine herself in them. “Damn, I’d look fucking hot as hell in these,” she mumbled to herself. The idea of stepping out in such bold attire thrilled her.

The thrill of the moment surged as she clutched the chosen items closer to her chest. “Fuck paying for these,” she thought, a wicked grin spreading across her face. The notion of simply taking what she wanted sent a rush through her veins, edging into arousal. It was a high she hadn’t anticipated, but one she found intoxicating.

As Rachel’s heart raced with the thrill of shoplifting, a fleeting thought of Chris flickered through her mind. Chris, with his detective’s badge and his adherence to the law, would undoubtedly find her current actions more than just problematic. “What would Chris think if he knew? Being with someone who just… takes what she wants?” she pondered, the fabric of the stolen clothes soft under her fingertips.

The idea that her actions could reflect poorly on him, possibly even damage his reputation or career, briefly sobered her excitement. She could almost hear his voice, mixing disappointment with concern, reminding her of the consequences, of how things could spiral out of control if she were caught.

But then, a mischievous spark ignited within her, pushing those concerns to the back of her mind. “He won’t find out. I’m not gonna get caught,” she reassured herself, her confidence swelling. After all, she had never felt more alive, more herself, than in this moment..

With a determined grin, Rachel dismissed the worries about Chris and what might happen if she were caught. The risk, it seemed, was part of the allure, adding an edge to the rush she felt. “I fucking want these clothes. They’re mine,” she thought fiercely.

She effortlessly slipped the items into her bag like she had done it a thousand times before.

Exiting the store, the clothes secured in her bag and her pulse still quickened from the act, Rachel’s eyes caught the neon sign of a hair salon across the street. The sight sparked an immediate decision. “This blonde shit has got to go,” she declared, as she crossed the threshold into the salon. “Make it black, and fucking chop it off,” she instructed the stylist.

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Later that day while Rachel was out shopping, Chris’s phone rang. The precinct called him in; the punk from their encounter weeks ago was ready to plea bargain. Chris was exhausted from his stakeout, and his time with Rachel, but quickly left for the precinct.

In the sterile confines of the interrogation room, Chris faced the punk he arrested days ago. The punk seemed almost too at ease, given his current predicament, a smirk playing on his lips as he regarded Chris from across the table.

“So, detective, how’s life treating you these days? Your girlfriend doing well?” the punk prodded, his tone laced with a mocking curiosity that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Chris stiffened, his instincts warning him that this was more than idle chatter. “She’s none of your concern,” he replied tersely, trying to steer the conversation away from Rachel.

“Oh, but I think she is,” the punk continued, undeterred. His demeanor remained playful, almost enjoying the game of cat and mouse they were playing. “After our last little… encounter, I’ve been curious about how she’s ‘coming along.’ Noticed any interesting changes?”

Chris’s heart raced, a mixture of anger and fear knotting in his stomach. He had been trying to ignore the nagging suspicion that Rachel’s recent changes weren’t just coincidental. “What did you do?” he demanded, his voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in.

The punk leaned back, clearly enjoying Chris’s reaction. “Let’s just say, I left a little gift for you both. A token of our encounter,” he teased, his gaze sharp. “I’m curious, detective, has she developed any… new hobbies? A sudden interest in things she previously couldn’t stand?”

For a moment, Chris faltered, images of Rachel’s recent behavior flashing through his mind—the smoking, the cursing, the sudden shift in her personality. He had to fight to keep his composure, realizing he was giving away too much. “You’re going to tell me what you did to her,” he said, voice hard, regaining his footing. “But first, you’re going to tell me about your boss. That’s what this is really about.”

The punk’s smile faded slightly, recognizing that Chris wasn’t going to be baited any further into revealing more about Rachel. Yet, the satisfaction of having unsettled the detective lingered. Chris, though momentarily shaken, refocused on the task at hand.

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Rachel paced her living room, adorned in leather and fishnets that clung to her, showing off her body. Her reflection in the mirror was bold, almost unrecognizable—the makeup around her eyes dark and heavy, giving her a wild, untamed look. Various new piercings adorned her ears, glinting under the light, while her hair, once simple and blonde, was now a striking asymmetrical cut dyed a deep, rebellious black.

With a lit cigarette in hand, she exhaled a cloud of smoke, admiring her new look.  “You look fucking hot babe,” she said to herself. 

A ring of her phone cut sharply through the room, Chris’s name flashing on the screen.

“Chris,” she answered, her voice a cocktail of frustration and anticipation, the cigarette dangling from her lips.

“I’ve gotta head out. That punk gave us something big, and it’s time-sensitive,” Chris’s voice came through, rushed and laced with a hint of regret.

He dove straight into the revelation that had been haunting him, the curse that now explained Rachel’s drastic transformation. “Listen, Rachel, that punk from the other night, he… he cursed you, okay? It’s making you act out, embrace all this… punk behavior.  He said it would make you crave smoking, punk clothes, makeup, even sex.

“Fuck, so there’s a reason I’m turning into a goddamn walking cliché of a punk?” Rachel’s voice cracked, a mix of anger and relief slicing through her. The confirmation brought clarity, but with it, a swell of horror at the implications.  “And now I know why I’ve been so fucking horny all of the fucking time.  I’ve jilled myself off twice since I’ve been home and I’m still all jittery.”

“Listen, we’re gonna fix this. We’ll find a way,” Chris assured her, his voice steady, a beacon in the chaos that had become her life.

“Fucking promise me” she demanded.

“I promise,” came his quick answer.  “As soon as I get back.”

“You better get back here fucking soon,” she exhaled a plume of smoke as she spoke. “And stay safe, I love your fucking ass.”

“I love you too,” he said as he hung up.

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Rachel, now fully immersed in her new punk persona, strutted into the bookstore the next day for work. Dressed in black leather pants that hugged her tightly and a transparent black top revealing a black lace bra underneath, she was a visual shock to the quaint, quiet atmosphere of the store. Her face was framed with heavy, black makeup, and the smell of cigarette smoke lingered around her, marking her presence before she even spoke.

As she walked in, her boss, who had been arranging books near the entrance, looked up and did a double take, not recognizing the person in front of her.

“Excuse me, can I help you with something?” her boss asked, her voice polite but cautious.

“It’s me, Rachel,” she responded with a half-smirk, her voice laced with a newfound boldness and a hint of defiance.

Her boss’s expression shifted from confusion to shock and then to disapproval as recognition set in. “Rachel? But you called in sick yesterday… And this look, this isn’t appropriate for the bookstore,” her boss stated, struggling to reconcile the Rachel she knew with the person standing before her.

Rachel laughed, the sound harsher than she intended. “Yeah, well, I needed a fucking day. Thought I’d shake things up a bit,” she said, her words casual.

The boss took a moment, her disappointment palpable in the silence that followed. “Rachel, this…your attire, your language, it’s not acceptable here. I’m sorry, but I have to let you go,” she said firmly, the decision clearly paining her.

“Fired? For being too fucking real?” Rachel retorted, her anger flaring. “You know what? Save it. This place is fucking shit anyway.”

With that, Rachel turned and stormed out of the bookstore, the small bell ringing loudly as the door slammed.

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After being fired, Rachel’s next destination was a local dive bar, a place she’d never before considered her scene, but now felt inexplicably drawn to. She was chasing the numbing embrace of alcohol, yearning for its dulling effect on her spiraling thoughts and emotions. Her appearance alone was enough to turn heads as she entered the dimly lit, sparsely populated bar in the middle of the day.

Striding up to the bar, Rachel slammed her hand down, demanding the bartender’s attention. “I need a fucking drink, make it strong,” she declared, her voice cutting through the low hum of midday patrons and the crackle of a worn-out speaker playing what the bar considered music.

With a glass of something potent in hand, she made her way to a corner table, the clack of her boots on the sticky floor announcing her every step. Lighting up a cigarette, she took a deep drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke as she slumped into the chair, her entire demeanor one of defiance and unrest.

“This music is shit,” she muttered to no one in particular, a sneer twisting her lips as she scanned the room, her gaze challenging anyone to contradict her. Her voice, louder than necessary in the near-empty bar, was tinged with a mix of anger and disdain.

As Rachel sat, nursing her drink and lost in thought, an attractive man caught her eye as he approached with a confident stride. He placed a fresh drink in front of her with a smile that seemed to know too much. “Thought you might need another,” he said, his voice smooth, inviting conversation.

Intrigued and admittedly enjoying the attention, Rachel gestured to the seat opposite her. “Why not,” she replied, a playful smirk forming on her lips.  She leaned forward to grab the drink ensuring the man had a great view of her tits.

The man took the invitation, sitting down next to her and leaning in. His hand quickly found its way onto her thigh as he talked about nothing in particular.

Rachel, drawn in by his confidence and directness, felt a need growing within her. She entertained the conversation, her responses laced with innuendo and the promise of possibility. “You’re not too bad on the fucking eyes, you know,” she teased, leaning forward, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “And god, am I in the mood for some trouble.”

She traced her fingers across his chest and licked her lips teasingly.  As the flirtation reached its peak, Rachel leaned back, her expression shifting to one of contemplation. “But here’s the kicker,” she continued, locking eyes with him. “As fucking horny as I am right now, and believe me I’m rev’d up, I’m madly in love with someone. He’s the kind of love that changes your whole fucking world. So as tempting as this…whatever this is…might be, I can’t. I won’t cheat on him.”

The man, clearly taken by surprise, faltered momentarily, his interest piqued even more by her declaration. Rachel, relishing the moment, continued, “But if looking at a hot piece of ass and a bit of fun conversation is your thing, feel free to stay.  But first, I have to change this fucking music.”

Internally, Rachel was at peace.  This curse, as improbable as it seems, has caused her to change dramatically.  But at her core, her love of Chris remained true.  Somehow she knew she could deal with these compulsions knowing that she maintained control of that central concept. She loved Chris and nothing could change that.  

The man, though visibly disappointed, couldn’t help but respect her honesty and ordered another round of drinks.

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A few days later, Chris returned. The first thing he saw as he entered the apartment was a layer of smoke.  Then he saw Rachel sitting on their couch, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle in the other.

She was decked out in full punk attire: black leather, chains, and a defiance in her eyes that matched the aesthetic. Yet, when she saw Chris, her expression softened, and a familiar warmth spread across her face.

Chris paused, taking in the drastic changes. “Rachel, this is…wow, you’ve really changed,” he said, trying to mask his surprise.  He noticed more tattoos were now visible on her arms, and additional piercings dotted her ears and one on her nose, glinting metallically, and he thought he saw two barbell shapes poking through her braless top. 

Rachel hugged him, her movements confident yet welcoming. “Chris, look, I know this is… a lot,” she admitted, gesturing to her tattoos and piercings. “But I need you to know something important.”

“What’s that?” Chris asked, his concern evident in his voice.

Rachel took a step closer, her expression serious. “Despite all these changes, how I feel about you hasn’t changed. I’m still me, Chris. I love you. That’s the one thing this…situation hasn’t touched.”

Chris, still processing the visual transformation, focused on her words. “I love you too, Rachel. No matter what you look like, or how many tattoos and piercings you get,” he responded, his voice steady and supportive.

Rachel’s face, alight with relief and warmth at Chris’s acceptance, reflected a mix of emotions. Her gratitude was palpable, her voice carrying a sincerity that touched Chris deeply. “Thank you, Chris. That means everything to me,” she expressed, her eyes softening.

But as quickly as the vulnerability appeared, it morphed into something more provocative and daring. Her posture shifted, becoming more assertive as a wicked grin spread across her face. “But let’s cut the crap, Chris. I’m fucking starving for you. This whole transformation thing? It’s made me hornier than ever,” she declared, her tone laced with a boldness that was both new and electrifying.

Chris, taken aback by the sudden shift, couldn’t suppress a startled laugh, the tension breaking between them. “Well, that’s…quite direct,” he managed, his surprise giving way to a growing warmth in his gaze.

Rachel leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, her breath hot against his ear. “I don’t want to be direct. I want to be fucking clear. I need you, Chris. Now.” Her words were a demand, leaving no room for ambiguity.

The intensity of her desire was palpable, and Chris felt himself drawn into the depth of her need, the raw honesty in her demand igniting his own longing. “Rachel, I…” he started, any thoughts of hesitation evaporating under the heat of her gaze.

She cut him off with a finger to his lips, her eyes alight with a challenge. “No more talking. Show me you’re glad to have me back,” she said, her voice a sultry command that left no doubt about her intentions.

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After their moment of intimacy, the room still buzzing with the electricity of their connection, Chris and Rachel lay together, wrapped in the quiet aftermath. It was Chris who broke the silence, the weight of his recent experiences pressing on him.

“We made some serious inroads into that gang, finally caught their leader,” Chris began, his voice carrying a mix of pride and exhaustion. He detailed the operation, describing the den they’d infiltrated, the people they’d found there—rebellious, adorned in punk aesthetics, aggressive in their defiance of societal norms.

As he spoke, he didn’t immediately notice the shift in Rachel. But as he inadvertently started to disparage those people, comparing their lifestyle and choices to something negative, something undesirable, he saw a change in her expression. Her face, which moments ago was soft and open, hardened.

Rachel’s reaction was immediate and fierce. “So what? You think I’m just like them? Some kind of freak?” she snapped, her words sharp, her vulnerability turning into anger.

Chris realized his mistake too late. His descriptions, meant to share a part of his life with her, had instead drawn an unintended parallel between Rachel’s recent changes and the very elements of the gang culture he was condemning.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Rachel. I was just talking about the gang, not you,” Chris tried to explain, scrambling to repair the sudden rift his words had caused.

But Rachel was already on the defensive, hurt and retreating behind a wall of vulgarity and anger. “Fuck that, Chris. So now you’re saying I’m just another one of your cases? Some problem you need to fix?” she retorted, her voice rising, the pain evident beneath her harsh words.

As the harsh reality of his words set in, Chris could only watch as Rachel jumped out of bed.   She rapidly layered her punk attire over her naked body, closing off their moment of shared intimacy.   

“I’m sorry, Rachel, I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chris said, his voice filled with regret as he attempted to reach out to her, to explain.

Rachel, however, was in no mood to listen. With her outfit complete, she gave Chris a final look, one that was cold and distant. She turned to him, flipped him off, and left the apartment with a “fuck you”..

Chris was left alone. It dawned on him then just how much Rachel was struggling beneath the exterior changes.  The changed hair style, the tattoos, the piercings, the clothes.  These were layers of compulsions acting as a casing over who she was on the inside.  Something he’d been so careless to hurt.

Realizing he couldn’t let her walk away like this, not when she was this hurt and vulnerable, Chris quickly dressed, grabbed his coat, and chased her out the door. He needed to find her, to apologize, and to show her support, to show her his love.

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In the crowded dive bar, Rachel found a table far from the bar, immersing herself in the anonymous hum of conversations and clinking glasses. She caught the bartender’s eye, and recognized him as the man who flirted with her a few days before.  She nodded an acknowledgement before sharply gesturing for a drink. Without much delay, he navigated the busy space to bring her a double shot of whiskey.

“Here’s your drink,” he said, setting it down in front of her with a cautious look.

Rachel snorted, her mood souring further in the noisy environment. “About damn time. I needed this fucking drink yesterday,” she shot back, her words laced with the sharp edges of her current state of mind.

She tossed back the whiskey, feeling it burn down her throat, a brief salve from her pain. Sliding the empty glass back towards the edge of the table, she locked eyes with the bartender. “Hit me with another,” she demanded, her stare intense, daring him to comment.

He hesitated, the question in his gaze obvious as he assessed her. The bar buzzed around them, but Rachel’s table felt like a separate world, her demand hanging in the air.

“Sure, I’ll get you another. Just… take it easy, okay?” he finally responded, a mix of professionalism and personal concern in his voice as he took the glass and turned back to the crowd.

Rachel watched him go, a smirk briefly crossing her face at his concern. She leaned back, her demeanor challenging anyone who looked in her direction.  It was unnecessary, everyone left her alone.

Chris entered the dive bar, the noise and dim lighting a stark contrast to the clarity of his mission: to find Rachel. His eyes quickly adjusted, and soon enough, he spotted her in a corner, isolated yet unmistakably present. Before he could take more than a few steps towards her, Rachel’s voice cut through the murmur of the bar, loud and laced with anger.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Chris!” she yelled, her words sharp enough to draw the attention of nearby patrons. “Go back to your perfect, clean-cut world and leave me to my low-class punk life!”

Chris, his resolve firm despite the icy reception, didn’t stop walking toward Rachel even as her shouts pierced the buzz of the dive bar. Her anger was palpable, a raw, unfiltered wave of frustration and defiance aimed directly at him.

“Rachel, please, just let me—”

“No! Just fuck off, Chris!” Rachel cut him off, standing from her seat, her posture rigid with anger. “You think you can just waltz in here and what? Save me? I don’t need your fucking pity or your clean, tidy life!”

Chris reached her, standing firm in the face of her fury. “It’s not about saving you, Rachel. It’s about understanding you, being there for you. I messed up, okay? I get that now,” he said, his voice calm but earnest.

Rachel’s response was immediate and physical, her hands pushing against his chest with surprising strength. “You don’t get shit, Chris! You see this?” she gestured to herself, to the tattoos, the piercings, the outfit. “This is me now. You can’t just come here and pretend everything’s fine!”

But Chris didn’t back down. Instead, he caught her hands gently, pulling her into an embrace she didn’t resist for long. As her hits slowed, and her anger turned to sobs, he whispered, “I’m not pretending, Rachel. I see you—all of you. And I love you. All of you.”

Her voice muffled against his chest, Rachel’s retorts softened, her words blending with tears. “You’re such an idiot, Chris. This… all this is fucking crazy. And you’re here, like some… some…”

“Like some fucking loser who loves you too much to let you go through this alone?” Chris offered, a half-smile in his voice.

Rachel let out a choked laugh, nodding against him. “Yeah, fucking exactly. God, you’re impossible.”

Chris pulled back slightly, looking down into her tear-streaked face. “And you’re incredible. Look, I’m sorry for not being there the way I should have. For not seeing how hard this has been on you.”

Rachel sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re fucking here now, aren’t you? Detective genius found his wayward punk girlfriend.”

“I did. And I’m not going anywhere,” Chris affirmed, his gaze locking with hers, a promise in his eyes.

As Chris and Rachel settled into their newfound calm, the bartender made his way over, a look of concern etched across his face from witnessing the earlier outburst. The noise of the bar seemed to quiet down around them, focusing attention on the small drama unfolding at their booth.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, directing his question towards Rachel, his eyes darting between her and Chris, trying to gauge the situation.

Rachel, now noticeably more at ease, offered him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, everything’s good,” she confirmed, her tone light but sincere. She then gestured towards Chris, a playful glint in her eye. “This straight-laced, narc-looking dude? He’s actually my loving boyfriend. Was just telling you about him the other day.”

The bartender, picking up on the shift in Rachel’s demeanor and the affectionate, albeit teasing, introduction, nodded politely. “Glad to hear it,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of relief. Setting down the drink he had brought over for Rachel, he added, “Well, if you need anything else, just let me know.”

With that, he turned and left them.  Chris and Rachel shared a look, one filled with love and understanding. The bar seemed to forget them, the noise ramping up again.

After the bartender left, ensuring Rachel and Chris had everything they needed, the atmosphere between them shifted towards a lighter mood. Rachel leaned in closer to Chris, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Guess what? I didn’t just waste my time while you were playing detective. I went shopping,” Rachel said, a smirk playing on her lips.

Chris, intrigued by her tone and the look in her eye, leaned in as well. “Oh yeah? What’d you get?” he asked, picking up on her playful energy.

Rachel’s smirk broadened, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Found us some new toys,” she revealed, her choice of words deliberate, her expression daring him to ask for details. “And I’m not talking about fucking action figures. Think more along the lines of… adult fun.”

Chris’s response was a mix of amusement and surprise. “Is that right? Sounds like you’ve got quite the evening planned for us,” he replied, matching her provocative tone.

“Yeah, I figured we could use a little… excitement. Shake things up a bit,” Rachel said, her words heavy with implication and a hint of challenge. “You game?”

Chris laughed, the sound rich with warmth and anticipation. “With you? Always,” he assured her, reaching for her under the table.  Her hand brushed his aside and teasingly stroked his cock. Rachel’s laugh in response was genuine. “Good, because you’re in for one hell of a night, detective,” she teased.

“I think we’re in for one hell of a life, Rachel,” was his reply.