#f2f transformation
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The Flight part 2
An Outbreak story
Holly looked at herself in the mirror. She admired her new features as she touched her face and giggled. She felt more confident and beautiful than ever before. The thought of what she did to Brent ran through her mind. The way he squirmed and groaned. He was completely in her power. Holly hungered for more. She felt powerful and wanted to explore her newfound abilities further. Holly felt her new developments as she bit her lip. She closed her eyes briefly as her breasts felt soft and sensitive in her hands.
Holly hiked up her skirt and lowered her pantyhose. She pulled her panties to the side and felt herself. She felt so warm as she thrust her fingers inside, her skin soft and yielding beneath her touch. Her breath quickened and her heart raced as she imagined Brent's reaction if he could see her now. Her body tingled with anticipation and desire. Holly had always imagined being beautiful and now that power was hers.
She fantasized men falling all over for her. She pictured herself as an influencer as men flooded her DM’s. “Oh fuck yes. They want me! They really really want me!” She moaned hysterically, her fingers moving faster. Her body was on fire, her skin tingling everywhere. “Thank you for flying with us cum back soon!” Holly screamed as she orgasmed. She collapsed against a wall. Holly still hungered for more. She fixed her clothing and went to find Lucy to share the news of her transformation. In the galley she looked and saw that Lucy was not in her seat.
20 minutes ago
Lucy smacked her lips as she awoke from her Power Nap. She looked over and saw that Holly was out. A ding sounded as Lucy looked up and saw someone in economy rang for assistance. Lucy’s eyes got wide as she realized it was the patient that sneezed on Holly. “Ewww” she thought to herself. She put on a fake smile and walked over to him. “How May I help you sir?” She asked politely. The man looked at her and handed her a blanket.
“Thank you! I don’t need this anymore. I actually feel very warm right now.” The man said, giving Lucy a genuine grin. Lucy noticed the man was quite attractive with his muscles digging into his little shirt. He had sparkling blue eyes and a defined jawline. Lucy quickly looked down and saw his thick thighs pulling his pants.
“Can I help you with anything else sir? I heard you were under the weather earlier.” Lucy said with a sultry tone, leaning slightly closer to him. She couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt as he breathed. She looked down and noticed his bulge in his pants. Her heart raced as she felt her own body responding to his presence. “Well… I do feel really tight in this shirt. I think it’s too small for me.” He confessed, trying to hide his embarrassment with a grin.
“Well we do have extra clothes in the jacket closet in back. We can’t let you be… uncomfortable.” Lucy said, her heart racing as she fought the urge to touch him. She knew she was using the same tactics she used to seduce eligible bachelors on her flights. She led him to the back of the plane and into the closet. She pulled out a larger shirt and a pair of pants, handing them to him. He smiled gratefully as he began to unbutton his shirt.
Lucy couldn't help but stare at his muscles as he moved, her cheeks flushing. The man glanced over at her, noticing her fascination. "It's not every day a pretty girl like you pays attention to me," he said with a wink. Lucy felt a shiver run down her spine. "Well, it's not every day a handsome man like you ends up on my flight," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucy felt his bare chest with her hands as she admired his chiseled frame. She stepped even closer as she smelled his enticing aroma. She grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him in for a kiss. He responded eagerly, his strong hands running through her hair. Their tongues tangled as they explored each other's mouths. The man groaned as he pushed her up against the wall. He lowered his pants, revealing his hardened arousal. Lucy smiled seductively and took him in her hand, stroking him slowly.
Their passionate encounter continued as he hiked her skirt up. Lucy gasped as he ripped her pantyhose, revealing her bare skin. He roughly thrust into her, their bodies slamming against the wall. Their breathing heavy, their moans filling the cramped space. The sound of the engines and the other passengers were muffled as they became lost in their lust. Lucy wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her nails into his back, urging him to go deeper. He grunted in response, his muscles flexing as he pumped harder.
“Oh my! You’re so big!” Lucy gasped as he pounded into her, her body arching helplessly against his. His thrusts grew more urgent, and she could feel the tension building inside him. She moaned, her head spinning with pleasure as he continued to claim her. With a powerful groan, he released himself deep inside her, filling her with his warmth. “Did you just cum?” she asked breathlessly, feeling his weight pressed against her.
He didn’t answer as his eyes rolled back in his head, his muscles tensing under her touch. “Want more! Need more!” he growled, his voice thick with desire. She smiled, feeling the strength of his body pressed against her. His cock twitched, and she knew he was already regaining his energy. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he began to move again, his thrusts steady and powerful.
Their rhythm was interrupted when they heard the captain's voice over the intercom, telling them to buckle up for a rough patch of turbulence. Lucy wrapped her legs tighter inviting him to finish. He pounded into her, claiming her body with each thrust. As the plane rocked, they clung to each other, their sweaty bodies sliding against each other. He roared as he released himself deep inside her, his powerful body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. Lucy moaned, her own climax building as he continued to thrust, his cock twitching inside her. She arched her back, meeting his thrusts with her own, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
The turbulence passed, and the intercom clicked off. They were both breathing heavily, their chests heaving as they clung to each other. Lucy smiled up at him, her eyes shining with desire. "That was incredible," she whispered, running her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. He kissed her passionately, his tongue diving into her mouth.
“Ladies And gentlemen this is your captain speaking. We are preparing for our descent into LAX. Please return to your seats. Flight attendants prepare the cabin for landing.” The captain's voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting their intimate moment. Lucy felt a pang of disappointment as she reluctantly pulled away from her handsome companion. He slipped back into his pants and buckled his belt, adjusting his hair and clothes before straightening up. They exchanged one last longing glance before discreetly returning to their seats.
As Lucy did her rounds she noticed an attractive blonde flight attendant helping passengers on the other aisle. The blonde, seeing her notice, gave her a smile and a wink. Lucy couldn't help but feel a spark of attraction towards her. “I thought I knew the whole crew for this flight.” Lucy said to herself, wondering if this was a new hire.
It was when Lucy returned to her bucket seat and the blond sat in Holly’s seat that Lucy spoke up. “Um excuse me that’s my friend Holly’s seat maybe you…” Lucy was quickly interrupted. “Lucy it’s me Holly! I don’t know how to explain it but I’m blonde and busty now.” Holly smiled and gestured to her new chest.
“Yeah sure. If you’re Holly then.” Holly smiled. “6 months ago you fucked twins in the coat closet. You were embarrassed because you thought you just did the same guy… twice” Lucy answered back quickly “Yeah cause since when do adult brothers wear the same…Holly?” Holly nodded and smiled. They talked together over how this transformation might have occurred and they determined it had to do with the sick passenger. “Oh no Holly. I fucked him.” Lucy said terrified.
“Wait who? … Lucy you fucked a guy with a fever? He didn’t seem your type either way.” Holly chuckled. “No he didn’t have a fever and he is definitely my type. Muscles on muscles.” Lucy licked her lips. “Holy shit! He grew into a hunk! He…..he definitely has the virus.”
“Well if sneezing on you did all that. What will his cum do to me?” Lucy asked nervously. “Oh Lucy, baby… you did him with no condom?” Holly asked concerned but the thought of a virile man pumping his seed…. Aroused her.
“I know right. It’s just that he smelled so good. He was soo big. Like I was hornier than I usually am. Holly… are you touching yourself?” Lucy said with a shock as she watched her transformed friend pleasing her body. “Unh I don’t know but I can’t help it. This new body…. Your story. So … fucking good!” Holly moaned. Lucy couldn’t help but watch as her friend, touched herself. She felt her own body tingling, wanting what Holly had.
Lucy felt the tingle in her breasts, the ache in her loins as she watched Holly bring herself to orgasm. Her own body was ready, craving the release that only a man's touch could bring.The scent of her arousal filled the air, and she could feel herself growing wetter by the second.
Lucy looked and saw that her black hair was turning blond. She watched as her lips became plumper and her eyes turned a sparkling blue. Her breasts grew larger, rounder, and her hips widened, making her ass perkier. She felt herself becoming more and more aroused as she transformed right in her bucket seat. Her shoulder straps dug into her flesh as her bosom multiplied in size.
Lucy unbuckled her straps freeing herself to grow. She also stumbled to Holly as she still was touching herself with her eyes closed. Lucy batted Holly’s hand away as she buried her face in her friend’s pussy. Holly shot up in her seat as she looked down and saw a head of blond hair between her legs.
“Lucy.. what are? Mmm yes!” Holly grabbed Lucy’s hair and pulled her closer. She couldn't believe what was happening, but she couldn't deny how incredible it felt. As Lucy lapped at her friend's wetness, Holly felt a mixture of shock, desire, and arousal course through her body. Her chest heaved up and down, her breasts swaying with each breath.
Lucy, still in the process of transforming, felt her skin tingle and burn as her body continued to change. Her hips widened even further, making her ass more prominent and curvy. As she lapped at Holly's folds, she could feel her own desire growing stronger. She moaned into her friend's wetness, her blond hair swaying around her face as she relished the taste and smell of Holly's arousal.
“Oh Fuck me!” Holly cried out as the sensations overwhelmed her. She felt her body tensing, the familiar build up of pleasure that meant she was close to climax. Her fingers dug into Lucy's hair, pulling her even closer as she arched her back, thrusting her hips forward. The feel of Lucy's tongue and lips on her, the taste of herself on her friend's tongue... it was all too much.
Holly grabbed the top of her chair as she felt herself reaching her apex. “Lucy, I’m gonna cum. Oh yes, yes! Fuck me, baby! Ahhhhhh!!!” She cried out as her body was wracked by an intense orgasm, her juices spilling over Lucy's lips and down her chin. Her grip on the chair loosened, and she collapsed back into her seat, breathless and spent.
Lucy stood up a larger bustier woman as she wiped her lips of Holly’s juices and tasted them on her thumb. The plane jostled as it landed at the airport, the sounds of the jets powering down as it taxied. “Lucy… I still want more. What’s wrong with me?” Holly groaned as she tried to catch her breath.
“We are definitely Bi too. Your body is turning me on but I still want cock.” Lucy smiled at Holly.
Epilogue
The gate agents found Holly and Lucy fucking the pilots after all the passengers left the plane. They alerted their supervisors as the CDC and FBI quickly arrived. They believed that the outbreak was contained as they transported Holly and Lucy to a research facility.
Meanwhile the passenger from economy got an Uber and made it home. He was greeted by his stepmother at the door.
“Jim? Is that you?”
The virus has reached America
#beautification#transformation#f2f transformation#breast expansion#bimboification#ass expansion#origin stories#slutification#beauty is power#flight attendant
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Outfit
"Hiiiiii! Do you like my outfit? It was all super specially chosen."
"The white stockings and jacket are, like, a reminder I used to be a super-smarty scientist in a big white coat. I think this looks cuter though!"
"The denim skirt and pretty 'lil top are cuz I always used to cover up. Probably cuz of liek the chemy-cals I was playing with. But since I made a whoopsies with that already, I might as well show my new boobies and butt!"
"My fave collar and adorbs pigtails are, like, ummmm...signs that I'm Mommy's good girl? Mommy was like, my partner or something, but it makes sooooo much more sense for her to be in charge and steer my ditzy head by my hair!"
"Lastly, the most important piece...my fluffy ears! For some reason people kept calling me 'Katherine' even after my accy-dent. So I started wearing my ears to, like, make it suuuuuper obvious that I'm Kitty now!"
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I HAVE NEVER
It was your bullying step-brothers idea to play a game. You just wished you'd never listened...
Jordan was the bane of your life. He was stronger, taller and more attractive than you. He seemed to take a perverse delight in ruining everything in your life and when you finally got a girlfriend you could sense his jealousy.
You weren't worried though. Jenna was sweet, delightful and funny. She hated 'Alpha-Males' like Jordan and was deeply in love with you. She was best-friends with your twin sister Kate as well and the three of you got on so well.
One day the three of you were hanging out when Jordan entered the room carrying a bottle of vodka.
"Hey nerds," he grinned, "wanna play a game with me?"
"Not really Jordan, go away," sighed Kate folding her arms under her small breasts and glaring at him. "You're such a douchebag, we don't want to play anything with you."
"Awwww, what's the matter? Don't wanna have some fun?"
Placing the bottle down, Jordan opened it and grabbed four shot glasses. He poured out the vodka. "Come on losers, I'm bored and this will be fun. I bet you pathetic dweebs have never played 'I have never'."
I didn't want to play anything with Jordan, but strangely I found myself being drawn towards the shot glass the same as my girlfriend and my sister.
"That's it losers - you can't resist playing with me. In fact - you can't resist doing everything I say from now on."
A strange befuddlement seemed to throb through my head as my hand closed on the glass. I could see Jenna breathing heavily and Kate as well as they grabbed their glasses.
"Now then bitches, I'm gonna say something and if you have never done it before, you have to drink and then do the thing I'm saying."
"Th...that's not how... the game... works," groaned Jenna struggling to speak as a strange lethargy swept through her.
"It's how my version works losers - now then. I have never had my tits enhanced."
A strange tingle ran through all three of us and I found the vodka rising to my lips. I drank it and placing it down watched Jordan fill my glass back up.
The fiery vodka burned my throat and then my chest began to ache. I looked down and watched in horror as my t-shirt began to bulge and swell. My nipples were rock hard as my pectoral muscles bulged out and then became soft pliable flesh. Two round, perfect globes swelled out - big fat fake tits causing my t shirt to rip and tear. I could hear female moans next to me and saw that my sister and girlfriend were undergoing a similar transformation.
"H...how?" groaned Kate as she cupped her massive new tits. She had been relatively flat chested before, but now she had a fine pair of teenage milkers and she looked great.
"Just a little magic to spice things up," grinned Jordan. "All three of you look so much better with this big tits. Now then 'I have never shaved my pussy bare."
I felt the vodka rising to my lips again and I drank it. My cock tingled and a delicious feeling of inversion and sucking seemed to happen. My crotch was now flat and smooth - a pretty pink pussy where my cock used to be.
"Haha, this is cool," laughed Jordan. "Now then, I have never worked my booty out to become a PAWG."
All three of us drank again and my whole body ached. I could feel my ass swelling up and my body shrinking. Toned muscles rippled under my skin as my hips cracked out. I looked at Kate and Jenna - they looked like hot little gym bunnies now just like I did.
"Okay sluts - you're looking good, but we can do even better. I have never had hair extensions, fake nails, eyelashes and a tan."
My body ached and as I raised the vodka to my lips again I saw I now had cute white nails and smooth tanned skin. My short hair was now long and blonde, I could feel it tickling my shoulders. Long slutty lashes projected from my eyes and I could taste lipstick on my transformed face.
I had nearly become fully female.
"Yeah, that's it bitches - you look so much better. The bottle is nearly empty. How about one final round? I have never been a horny, popular, bitchy slut who only likes hung Alpha-males."
All three of us drank, the empy glasses tumbling from our hands as we shook and giggled. My pussy throbbed and my brain ached as I felt new urges and desires pulse through me.
I'm a slut... I'm a bitch... I'm popular. I wanna fuck Jordan, I love being a slut for him... ohhh fuck yeah.
My clothing transformed as did Kate and Jenna's. All three of us were now dressed in sexy lingerie. The three of us were mean little size queens now, sluts for bully cock. I felt my pouty pink lips twist into a dumb grin as I played with my hair.
"Like... I am sooooo drunk and I'm fucking horny. Jordan, please will you like let us suck your cock?"
Jordan smiled and unzipping his fly flopped out his big fat cock. Me and my slutty friends sank to our knees, our mouths wet. Mmmmmh, he was so good to us.
"Fuck yes. My step-sis and her slutty friends. This is such a better configuration," he crowed. "Maybe one day I'll turn you back so you can appreciate how much of a slut you were for my cock. Then I'll turn you back into this bitch - she's better than you ever were."
I had no idea what my hot step-brother was going on about. I was too busy sinking my cherry pink lips around his big cock and starting to suck as Jenna began to rim Jordan and Kate kissed and made out with him.
Glug... glug... glug...
THE END
"Mmmmmh, that's it girls - I have never had a threesome before and this is gonna be a blast..."
As I felt Jordan's cock slide deep down my slut throat, I gurgled happily. Mmmmmh, I loved playing games with him...
#evie hyde#bitchification#f2f transformation#f2f corruption#corruption#m2f transformation#bully#m2f corruption
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TOO LATE
Alice knew she shouldn't have tried on her slutty Step-Mother's fur coat, but it was too late now.
What had started as just a voice in her head had quickly taken control of her whole body, and now Alice could only watch in horror as her hands expertly layered thick makeup on her face.
"Don't worry dear," spoke her own mouth in a mature and all too familiar tone, "Mommy's going to show you just how fun it is to be me..."
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Her Rightful Place
What do you think of the new me Mommy? Don't I look sooo hot now, much better than that fat slob I was before, Step Daddy Chris helped me evolve into my next stage of life as a proper woman. One that understands the importance of her looks and how to use them. One that knows her place by her mans side, and knows to always do as he says.
Unlike you Mom, you never listen to Chris do you? You wouldn't listen when he told you I needed to work on myself, or when he told you he had a way to fix me without needing to to do that work. Admit it Mother you wanted me to be a fat ugly loser so you could feel better about yourself, because face it, your lucky Daddy spent so long with such a mediocre woman like you.
That's why we've decided I'll be moving into the master bedroom with Daddy, while you take my old room and become our live in maid. But don't worry Ruth, we're not totally evil so we'll still allow you to please Daddy when he's feeling aroused while I'm out working at the club.
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Influenced
Alexandra and her friends, Mia, Jenna, and Chris, wove their way through the crowded space of their favorite spot in town. They were in search of a table where they could sit and enjoy each other’s company. Mia, with her knack for spotting opportunities in a sea of chaos, pointed to a table in the corner that promised a bit of seclusion.
From their corner view, they sat and listened to the music and chatted about their days. With a sudden burst of enthusiasm, Alexandra declared it was time for a group selfie. Standing, she expertly angled her phone to capture the moment—their smiling faces, the warmth of the overhead lights, the background hum of the crowd around them. After a few attempts, filled with laughter and playful complaints about blinking at the wrong moment, they captured the perfect shot.
After examining the photo, Chris, raising his glass in a toast, dubbed Alexandra the “selfie queen,” a title that was met with unanimous approval.
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Alexandra’s afternoon had been perfectly ordinary until her phone erupted with a relentless barrage of notifications. This can’t be right, she thought, silencing the device only for it to vibrate again with an urgency that felt almost apocalyptic. Picking it up, she saw her Twitter app alight with activity. Why would anyone be tweeting at me? Confused, she tapped into the app, her heart rate accelerating as she saw her name trending.
What on earth…? Her eyes widened in disbelief as she scrolled through the tweets, each one a variation of accusation and speculation. A video, blurry and shaky, depicted a woman giving a blowjob. The man was clearly the rapper, Johan, but the woman was hard to recognize. Yet, somehow, everyone had decided the woman was her. This isn’t me. How can they not see it’s not me?
Her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, Mia:
Mia: Hey, saw Twitter. This is crazy! That’s not you in the video, right?
Alexandra: Of course not! I don’t understand how this is happening. 😞
As she tried to draft a response to the accusations online, her thoughts were a jumble of frustration and disbelief. I need to fix this. Fast.
Another text came through, this time from her brother, Daniel:
Daniel: Alex, please tell me you’re okay. Mom’s freaking out about this Twitter thing. You’re denying it, right?
Alexandra: I’m trying to, but it’s like a tidal wave. I don’t know how to stop it.
She posted a tweet in her defense, her fingers trembling as she typed:
Alexandra: To everyone who’s seen the video going around: That is NOT me. I have no idea how this started, but please stop spreading lies.
Instead of quelling the storm, her post seemed to fuel it further. Comments poured in, a mix of support and vitriol.
RandomUser1: Yeah right, that’s what they all say. #cancelAlexandra
SupportiveStranger: I believe you. This mob mentality is out of control.
Watching the numbers of her followers increase was like observing a car crash in slow motion—horrific yet mesmerizing. Is this really happening to me?
Throughout the evening, the situation escalated. More friends reached out, each message a mix of concern and curiosity. Her social media feeds were a battleground of opinions, and amidst the chaos, Alexandra noticed something unexpected—a surge in followers.
People are following me because of this? Why? .
Her phone buzzed again, breaking her train of thought. It was another message from Mia.
Mia: This is insane. You’re at 1k followers now. Some people are defending you. Maybe this can be turned around?
Alexandra paused, the gears in her mind beginning to turn. Turned around? How? The seed of an idea was planted, but she shook it off, focusing instead on the immediate firestorm.
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Alexandra woke to the sound of notifications on her phone. The follower count had jumped overnight—10,000 and climbing. This is getting out of control.
Her thumb hovered over the Twitter app, unsure of what to do. Opening it, she braced herself for the onslaught of opinions about her. The tweet she had posted in her defense had become a battleground.
TrendChaser: Clearly looking for her 15 mins of fame. #AlexandraExposed
DigitalDefender: Misidentification happens. Give her a break. #JusticeForAlexandra
Mixed in with the condemnation and conspiracy theories were messages of support, and bizarrely, admiration. People are actually siding with me. They’re… fans?
Her contemplation was interrupted by a new text from Mia.
Mia: You’re trending again. And not just on Twitter. Have you seen Instagram and TikTok? You need to capitalize on this, Alex. Before someone else does.
Alexandra: Capitalize? Mia, my life is being turned upside down. How am I supposed to “capitalize” on that?
Mia: Think about it. You’ve always said you wanted a bigger platform for your art. This could be it, in a weird way. Use the attention.
Use the attention? Alexandra had long craved recognition for her graphic design work, but was this the way? Yet, a growing part of her that whispered of opportunity grew louder. Could I really turn this nightmare into something… beneficial?
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With a mix of excitement and trepidation, Alexandra prepared to share her work with the world. She carefully selected a few of her favorite pieces, each one representing hours of dedication and a piece of her soul. She photographed them in the best light, ensuring the colors popped and the textures spoke through the digital medium.
Her first post was a painting she was particularly proud of, a swirling abstract piece that, to her, represented the chaos and beauty of the natural world. She captioned it with a quote from one of her favorite artists and a brief commentary on what the piece meant to her.
“In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you.” – Deepak Chopra. This piece is my attempt to capture that stillness amidst the chaos of life. Hope it speaks to you as it does to me. #ArtistsOfInstagram #AbstractArt
The reactions were immediate. Many of her followers, drawn in by her usual content of lifestyle and fashion, were surprised but impressed by this new dimension of Alexandra’s creativity.
Fan1: Wow, didn’t know you were an artist too! This is amazing 😍
Fan2: Love seeing this side of you! You’re beautiful and talented. Please share more!
However, not all the feedback was positive. Among the genuine appreciation, there were those who saw this as a departure from the content they followed her for, and they didn’t hesitate to voice their skepticism.
Skeptic1: Seems like everyone’s an artist these days. Looking for a quick claim to fame by showing off some colors and calling it art.
Skeptic2: Attention seeker much? Stick to what you know. This art thing isn’t for you.
The mixed reactions left Alexandra feeling both vindicated and vulnerable. She had hoped her art would be received with open minds, yet the criticism stung, feeding into her insecurities.
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Alexandra and Mia had found a quiet corner in the restaurant where they could catch up. It had been weeks since they last had a moment together, just the two of them.
Mia sipped her drink, watching Alexandra with a mix of concern and curiosity. “So, talk to me,” she said. “How are you handling all… this?” She gestured vaguely, encompassing not just the restaurant, but the entirety of the situation that had swallowed Alexandra whole.
Alexandra shrugged, her phone resting beside her cup, its screen lighting up every few seconds with new notifications. “I have over 100k followers. It’s overwhelming,” she admitted, a frown creasing her brow. “One minute, I’m just me, and the next, I’m this… person everyone has an opinion about.”
Mia nodded, reaching out to gently tap the phone. “And this… is helping? Or making it worse?”
Before Alexandra could answer, the phone buzzed again, its insistent glow pulling her gaze away from Mia. She picked it up, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face, which quickly morphed into reluctant fascination. “Sorry,” she mumbled, swiping through the notifications. “It’s just—”
Mia sighed, leaning back in her chair. “It’s like you’re not even here. You’re with me, but you’re not with me, you know?”
Alexandra looked up, her attention torn. “I know, I know. It’s just hard to ignore. Every buzz could be something important, something else I have to deal with.” Her voice was a mix of justification and frustration, the weight of her new reality settling on her shoulders.
Mia watched her friend, the transformation palpable even in such a simple act as checking her phone. “But is it really that important? More important than the people right in front of you?”
The question hung in the air. Alexandra set the phone down, face-up, as if bracing for the next assault. “It’s all important, Mia. These notifications, the followers, the comments—they’re how I build my business. This was your idea, and now that it’s gained traction, I can’t just ignore it.”
“I know, but at what cost, Alex?” Mia’s voice was gentle, but her eyes were sharp. “Look at you. You’re here but not here.”
Alexandra opened her mouth to protest, but the truth of Mia’s words silenced her.
The phone buzzed again, more insistent this time, but Alexandra ignored it. She took a deep breath, pushing the device to the side. “You’re right,” she conceded, a small wave of defeat washing over her. “It’s just… hard to balance.”
Mia reached across the table, covering Alexandra’s hand with her own. “I get it. This is all new, and it’s huge. But don’t lose sight of what’s real, okay?”
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Alexandra stared at her phone. She received an email from a brand that, under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have considered aligning with. The brand was known for its flashy, fast-fashion ethos, and Alexandra was confused why they would reach out to her.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Collaboration Opportunity with FastFashGlam!
Dear Alexandra,
We’ve been following your rise on social media with great interest. Your style, your voice, and your ability to connect with your audience are exactly what FastFashGlam looks for in our brand ambassadors. We believe you represent the bold, dynamic spirit of our collections, and we would love to explore a partnership with you.
This collaboration would include exclusive pieces from our upcoming line for you to showcase, along with competitive compensation and the opportunity for massive exposure across our channels.
We’re excited about the possibility of working together to bring fresh, fashionable looks to your audience.
Best,
The FastFashGlam Team
Reading the email, Alexandra felt a mix of flattery and discomfort. FastFashGlam? Their stuff is cute, but… it’s all fast fashion. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘sustainable. She debated ignoring the offer, not wanting to compromise her values for the sake of exposure.
However, the mention of “competitive compensation” and “massive exposure” gnawed at her, tempting her with the possibilities. Could this be the break I need to really fund my art?
After much deliberation, she decided to respond, seeking clarification, and perhaps, negotiating better terms that could align more closely with her budding principles.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Collaboration Opportunity with FastFashGlam
Dear FastFashGlam Team,
Thank you for reaching out and for your kind words about my work. I’m flattered by your interest and intrigued by the opportunity to collaborate. However, I have a few concerns regarding sustainability and ethical practices within the fashion industry.
I strive to promote brands that align with these values. Could you provide more information on FastFashGlam’s commitments to sustainability and ethical fashion? Additionally, could you elaborate on the terms of the compensation and exposure?
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Alexandra
The reply came swiftly, the brand keen to secure her as an influencer. They glossed over her concerns about sustainability with vague assurances and buzzwords but were significantly more transparent about the financial incentives and the scale of exposure they were offering.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Collaboration Opportunity with FastFashGlam
Dear Alexandra,
We appreciate your thoughtful response and your commitment to sustainability. FastFashGlam is actively exploring ways to incorporate more eco-friendly practices into our production processes. We’re excited about the future and hope you’ll join us on this journey.
Regarding compensation, we are prepared to offer you a substantial package, including a generous upfront payment and a commission on sales generated through your promotion. The exposure includes featuring you prominently across all our social media platforms, with a combined reach of over 5 million followers.
We believe this partnership could be mutually beneficial, and we’re eager to welcome you to the FastFashGlam family.
Warm regards,
The FastFashGlam Team
Alexandra found herself at a crossroads. The opportunity was too good to pass up, even if it meant compromising, just this once, on her ideals. It’s just a stepping stone, she rationalized, a way to get my foot in the door. I can always be more selective in the future.
With a heavy heart but eyes wide open to the possibilities, she drafted her acceptance.
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First Post
So excited to finally share this with you all! 🌟 I’m thrilled to announce my partnership with @FastFashGlam, a brand that embodies the boldness and vibrancy I strive for every day. This is more than just fashion; it’s about making statements and owning your space. Can’t wait to take you on this journey with me. – Alexis 💕 #FastFashGlamXAlexis #NewBeginnings
Fan1: Wow, congrats on the partnership, Alexandra! But…who’s Alexis?
Fan2: Loving the look! But I’m confused, did you change your name?
Fan3: Alexis? Is this a typo or are we witnessing a brand new you?
Second Post
Following the initial confusion, Alexis quickly follows up with a story, a boomerang of herself winking and pointing to the name “Alexis” emblazoned on a custom piece from her FastFashGlam collection. The overlay text reads:
Caught you wondering, didn’t I? 😜 Alexis is not just a name; it’s an evolution. We’re all about growth and embracing the new, aren’t we? Stick around for the ride! 🚀 #AlexisEra #BeBold
CuriousCat: Okay, Alexis, we see you! Loving the energy but gonna miss Alexandra too!
BrandWatcher: Seems like a marketing move, but I’m here for it if it means more fab fashion content!
OldFan: Not sure how I feel about the name change. Hope you’re still the same person at heart.
Third Post
A few days later, a video clip of Alexis talking directly to her followers, wearing another outfit from FastFashGlam, clearly addressing the name change but focusing more on the brand partnership and what her followers can expect in terms of content. She’s radiant, confident, and fully embodying the Alexis persona.
Hey, lovelies! 🌹 I’ve seen your comments and DMs, and I love the engagement. Alexis is more than a name change; it’s about stepping into a larger version of ourselves. And with @FastFashGlam, we’re going to explore so many new styles and ideas. Get ready for exclusive sneak peeks, giveaways, and so much more. Let’s make fashion our playground! 🌈 #AlexisAdventures #FashionForward
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Alexis stood in front of her bedroom mirror, the afternoon light casting a soft glow. She had spent the morning at a high-end salon, getting her hair dyed and styled, and her outfit was a carefully chosen ensemble. She felt a mix of excitement and nerves as she prepared to share her new look with the world.
With a practiced smile, Alexis took a series of videos, showcasing not just the clothes and hairstyle but the confidence she was beginning to embody more fully. She selected the best video, one where the light hit just right, making her hair shimmer and her outfit pop. She typed out a caption, a blend of casual chic and strategic tagging of the brands she wore.
New day, new look. 🌟 Thanks to HellaHair for the fabulous hair and @FastFashGlam for this killer outfit. Feeling unstoppable! 💥 What do you think? #FashionForward #StyleInfluencer
She hit post, and almost immediately, the notifications began. Likes, hearts, comments—they flooded in, a tidal wave of validation and critique.
Fan1: OMG, Alexis! You look amazing! 😍
Fan2: Hair goals! Seriously, how do you always get it so perfect?
Fan3: This outfit is everything. NEED to know where I can get those shoes!
Mixed among the adoring fans were comments from her friends, who had stumbled upon the post in their feeds, surprised and a little taken aback by the sudden change.
Mia: Wow, Alex, this is… a lot. When did you go blonde?
Jenna: Looking good, but miss your natural look. Remember when we used to laugh about how high-maintenance those influencers were? 😅
Chris: Impressive, but don’t forget who you are beneath all that glam.
Alexis’s phone buzzed with each new notification, a mix of pride and a twinge of guilt at her friends’ reactions. She knew her transformation was more than skin deep; she was curating a new identity, one post at a time. But seeing her old friends’ mixed reactions brought a moment of reflection. They don’t understand. This is who I need to be now.
Choosing to focus on the positive, Alexis responded to her fans with gratitude and emojis, carefully crafting her replies to maintain her burgeoning influencer persona.
Alexis (replying to Fan1): Thanks, lovely! Your support means the world! 💖
Alexis (to Fan2): A little magic and a lot of hairspray! 😉 Thanks for the love!
She hesitated over her friends’ comments, knowing that her usual, breezy influencer responses wouldn’t suffice. With a sigh, she decided to leave them unanswered for now, not ready to confront the guilt she was feeling.
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Alexis received a group message from her friends.
Mia:Hey everyone, thinking of hitting up our usual spot tonight. It’s been ages since we all hung out. What do you say?
Jenna: I’m in! Could use a break from adulting. Lol.
Chris: Sounds good. Alex, you coming?
Alexis hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Her mind was a battlefield. Going out with them… I can’t risk being tagged in some random photo that doesn’t fit the brand I’m building. But how do I say this without sounding mean.
Alexis: I’d love to, but I’ve got so much going on right now. Raincheck?
She could almost hear Mia’s disappointment through the screen.
Mia: You’ve been saying that a lot lately. Everything okay?
Jenna: Yeah, we miss you! It’s not the same without our selfie queen.
Selfie queen. The title stung with irony. If only they knew how much those selfies are calculated now. Not just fun and games anymore.
Chris: Let’s plan something chill then. Just us, no fuss.
The offer was tempting, a call back to simpler times. But Alexis’s mind was already racing ahead, calculating the potential impacts, the way her night would be dissected and discussed by her growing audience. Can I afford a night off? A night being just Alexandra?
Alexis: I really appreciate it, guys. But I’ve got an early morning shoot for a brand partnership. Can’t bail on them. Let’s definitely plan something soon though!
Her response felt hollow, even to her.
Mia: Okay, we get it. Just don’t forget us when you’re famous.
Famous. Alexis opened Twitter and looked at her profile. 1.2M followers. She smiled, putting down her phone.
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Alexis was strolling through the upscale shopping district, her latest designer outfit attracting admiring glances and the occasional whisper of recognition. She was used to it by now—the double-takes, the hushed reverence, the way people seemed to orbit around her presence. It was all part of being Alexis, the influencer, the trendsetter, the icon.
As she paused to peer into the window of a chic boutique, contemplating whether the handbag on display matched her brand’s aesthetic, she felt a sudden, light tap on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with a young man, his eyes wide with the unmistakable glow of fandom.
“Alexis?” he stammered, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “I’m such a huge fan. Your posts, your style, everything you do is just… amazing.”
For a moment, Alexis sized him up—his earnest expression, his less-than-fashionable attire. A time ago, she might have smiled, thanked him, even engaged in a brief conversation. But that was before. Before she realized the power of her brand, the importance of maintaining a certain image, a certain distance.
Without missing a beat, Alexis’s demeanor chilled, her voice icy as she replied, “Do you always go around touching strangers? It’s incredibly rude and presumptuous. You should learn some manners.”
The fan’s face fell, his initial excitement curdling into embarrassment as the people nearby turned to watch the exchange. Flustered, he mumbled an apology, but Alexis wasn’t finished.
“And another thing,” she continued, her voice loud enough to draw even more attention, “if you’re going to approach someone like me, at least make an effort to look presentable. This isn’t a meet-and-greet at a discount store.”
With that, she turned on her heel, leaving the fan standing there, diminished and red-faced, as the crowd whispered and chuckled amongst themselves.
But Alexis wasn’t done. Seizing the moment to reinforce her brand’s exclusivity—and to teach a lesson to her followers about the importance of personal boundaries—she pulled out her phone and quickly recorded a video, her voice dripping with disdain as she recounted the encounter.
“Lesson of the day, darlings,” she said to the camera, her tone one of mock-seriousness, “approaching celebrities requires grace and respect. Remember, we’re not your friends; we’re figures of inspiration. Let’s keep it classy, not trashy.”
She posted the video without a second thought, not caring about the fallout for the fan, only considering the engagement such a post would generate. Her followers lapped it up, flooding the comments with praise for her stance, laughing emojis, and commiserations about the lack of respect she faced.
As she continued her day, satisfied with her handling of the situation, Alexis never stopped to consider the impact of her words and actions on that fan—or on her image in the eyes of those who still valued humility and kindness. In her quest to maintain her status, she had lost sight of the person she used to be, the one who would have seen an eager fan, not an opportunity for a lesson in branding.
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Alexis was responding to some followers, when a notification popped up indicating she’d been tagged in an old photo by Mia. Her immediate reaction was irritation.
The photo was from that night they’d dubbed her the “selfie queen,” a candid shot full of genuine smiles and unguarded laughter. It was a stark contrast to the polished, poised images she now favored.
Mia’s caption was simple, a nod to simpler times.
Throwback to when nights were about friends and photos, not followers. Miss these times @Alexis.
The comment section quickly filled with heart emojis and friends reminiscing about the good old days. But Alexis saw red. This didn’t fit the narrative she’d been building. It was too raw, too real. Without thinking, she typed a response that would later haunt her.
Alexis: Wow, some of us have grown up since then and realized life’s about more than just cheap drinks and bad lighting. Maybe try evolving instead of living in the past?
The moment she hit send, part of her knew she’d crossed a line. But it was too late. The damage was done.
It didn’t take long for Mia to text her, the hurt evident in her message.
Mia: Alex, what the hell was that comment about? That photo was about our friendship. Why would you say something so mean?
Alexis: Mia, you don’t get it. I have a brand to maintain, and that photo doesn’t fit. I can’t afford to be dragged down by nostalgia.
Mia: Dragged down? It’s our history, Alex. Since when did you become so… cold?
Alexis: Since I realized that to get ahead, you have to be strategic. You clinging to the past isn’t my problem. I suggest you focus on your own life and leave me to mine.
Mia’s response was a long time coming, and when it arrived, it was tinged with resignation.
Mia: I miss Alexandra. She knew the value of people over likes. Goodbye, Alexis.
Alexis stared at the message, a pang of something like regret tightening in her chest. But she quickly quashed it, telling herself she was making the necessary sacrifices for her future. If they can’t understand that, they were never really my friends.
She went back to her social media, deleting Mia’s tag and moving on to curate her next post, a glossy, impersonal shot of her latest brand partnership. The likes and comments rolled in, a balm to the sting of Mia’s words.
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Alexis stood before the full-length mirror in her opulent bedroom, dressed head to toe in designer wear. Today’s ensemble was for a beach outing. She adjusted the designer sunglasses perched on her head, a subtle yet expensive accessory that shielded her not just from the sun but from the prying eyes of recognition. Her outfit, while seemingly perfect for a leisurely day by the sea, was meticulously chosen for its brand value and the image it projected—an image that was about to be splashed across her social media, perpetuating the luxurious lifestyle her followers envied and admired.
Stepped into paradise 🌴☀️ Sometimes, you just need to escape and find your slice of heaven. #BeachVibes #LivingMyBestLifeBrand Tags: TokenBikinis, SunShades
Finding my balance between the sea and the sky. There’s something magical about starting your day with the sun and the sound of waves. #MorningRoutine #ZenBrand Tags: TokenBikinis, YogaGogo
Every sunset is an opportunity to reset. Feeling grateful for the journey and the beauty that surrounds us. #Gratitude #SunsetLoversBrand Tags: TokenBikinis, DeluxeTravelInc
SunsetChaser: Stunning view, stunning you. 🌅GratefulHeart: This caption 🙌 Your journey is inspiring!
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In case there was any confusion...
This blog is not about IRL bimbos or IRL bimbofication. I guess its easy to not realize that if you don't read my posts (and, ironically, I'm relying on people to read this post to realize that...) because I do post pictures of IRL bimbos and talk about this fetish as a whole but...
The truth is, in reality... I actually barely support IRL bimbofication. The transformation itself is hot but I'm not into the BDSM type relationship or the values usually associated with it. Not to mention, if you haven't noticed by now, the push for women to constantly "go bigger" and continuously put themselves in harm's way in IRL bimbo communities... makes me upset, to say the least.
"So what is this blog about?"
Bimbofication and "bimbo" as character, as archetype and cultural figure. In my discussions about what a bimbo is and isn't I'm referring to a fictional character. The bimbo as seen in fetish artwork, media, and erotica. Not real life people (unless stated otherwise).
For example, Pink Bimbo Academy doesn't believe bimbos need to be dumb, which makes sense if you're talking about real life three-dimensional people. I believe bimbos need to be dumb in SOME way because, to me, bimbos don't exist in the real world. There are RL women who possess many of the qualities I associate with bimbdom but they're almost never the type that would self-ID as "bimbo". It's sort of like "camp," once you've named it you've killed it.
It's important to keep in mind that despite the overlap, this is really almost three separate fetishes:
Bimbofication as BDSM
- Focus is submission. Can include hypnosis.
Bimbofication as a MC/Transformation fetish
- Focus is transformation. Includes writing, art, captions.
Bimbos as Bimbos
- Focus is on appearance and not much else. Could mean they love plastic surgery, young blonde women with big tits, or just big tits.
The most overlap is between 1 and 3, while my basis is 2. If your basis is 1 or 3 (or 1 and 3) but you're able to find value in my blog and the things I say, thank you, I appreciate that a lot, just please try to remember my basis is 2.
#understandingbimbos#bimbotxt#bimb0fication#bimboization#bimb0#bimboism#bimbohood#bimboification#plastic surgery fetishism#plastic surgery#bimbo girl#bimbification#bimbeau#bimboz#bimbofied#bimbocore#bimbo tf#transformation#f2f transformation#empowered#adam warren#elissa megan powers#mandy#dan yeagle
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The Caregiver
An Outbreak story
Sandra was concerned about her stepson Jim. She is certain he has the virus. The symptoms had been there for three days now: Complete physical changes along with mental ones. Jim seemed more aggressive lately and more irritable. She was so tempted to call the authorities but was scared of what experiments they would do to her sweet boy.
“You can’t keep me cooped inside forever Sandra!” Jim growled. He paced back and forth, his eyes burning with anger. Sandra stood her ground, her expression calm but firm. “Jim, baby you’re sick! If people find out you have the virus.. they’ll put you in a research facility. You know that right?” She took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. But he flinched away, his fists clenched at his sides.
He looked at his stepmother as some clarity returned to his mind. He unclenched his fists and sighed. “I’m sorry mom. It’s so hard to think lately… All I want to do is…” Jim looked at his mother with compassion but with a hunger she never saw before. “What is it baby?” she asked softly, taking another step closer. Jim stepped back fighting the natural urges the virus had brought forth. “It’s nothing mom… I just need to be alone.”
Jim walked swiftly and ran up the stairs. Sandra heard her stepson’s door close behind him. Santa looked over at their family portrait in the middle of the living room. “Oh Jack! How am I going to protect him?” Sandra was scared as her sweet nerdy stepson had returned a different man. Sandra had always been afraid of losing Jim ever since Jack passed away. Now the fear was exacerbated by his current… ailment.
Sandra placed her hand on her heart as she felt it beating fast. It was from fear but it was also from her stepson’s presence. She looked at the picture of Jack and how strong and handsome he was. Jim looked so much like him now and it was affecting her.
Sandra turned on the television as the news was still talking about the outbreak. The anchor was discussing the news with their health correspondent. “Yes it has spread throughout Asia and it is confirmed to have hit Australia.” The correspondent said with a grave expression. Sandra felt a chill run down her spine. She could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her shoulders. “And what about the flight that landed in LAX? The one with the two ehhh affected flight attendants?” The anchor asked cautiously. Sandra knew that flight well. It was the one that Jim had taken to come from a school trip just 4 days ago. “Well it seems to have transformed them into blonde…. And I’m sorry to say… bimbos. They have insatiable libidos and irresistible pheromones. The good news is the strain they have is not airborne and only transferred by fluids. They seemed to have only transferred the virus to the two pilots of the plane.” The correspondent explained. “Thank you Dr. Mullin. We remind our viewers if you notice any physical or mental changes in any of your friends or family please isolate them and call the proper authorities. When we come back more ‘outbreak’ coverage.” The anchor said as the screen cut to a commercial break.
Sandra turned off the television and sighed. She rubbed her temples as she slowly walked up the stairs. She decided to check on her stepson. The sound of grunts and slapping came from his room. Sandra shook her head knowing the sound of her son masturbating. Sandra turned to walk to her room but stopped when she heard Jim scream “mom!” Sandra rushed quickly to her son’s call. She opened the door to find her son still pleasing his engorged cock. Sandra gasped as she realized the extent of Jim’s transformation.
Jim’s body was covered in shapely muscle as his abs flexed as his hips gyrated into his hand. The room’s scent was strong as it was filled with the smell of sweat and cum. Sandra inhaled deeply and felt herself become wet with desire. Sandra looked higher and saw that Jim had a pair of her pantyhose covering his eyes and nose. “Ung mom, yes suck my cock like that.” Jim panted as Sandra felt herself walking closer to her son.
She found herself at the foot of the bed as she licked her lips. The temptation to touch her own stepson was great. “Yes, you’re gonna make me cum!” Jim’s cock erupted as streams of cum landed everywhere. Sandra quickly exited as her son uncovered his face and cleaned himself off.
Sandra rushed into her room and closed her door. She could feel her heart racing as the images were fresh in her mind. Jim’s toned body covered in sweat as he called for her. Jim holding her pantyhose to his face. He must have imagined herself sitting on him. He was so large and he came so much. “No! Stop it!” Sandra said out loud hoping to silence her naughty thoughts.
Sandra knew that Jim wasn’t her own but she practically raised him. Jack found her as a lonely young woman longing for a family. She remembered fondly the first time Jack introduced Jim to her as a young boy ten years old all that time ago. He hugged her tightly as she felt her eyes fill with tears. Sandra knew then she had found her family and she would never let anyone take it from her.
“I have to call the authorities…. For Jim’s sake.” Sandra muttered to herself as she prepared to take a shower. She reached down to undo her jeans. She gasped as felt a wet spot on her pocket. “Oh my God… is that his cum?” Sandra felt awkward as the substance covered her fingers. She played with it a bit as it felt very sticky. She smelled it as her whole body reacted. Sandra’s eyes rolled back as she felt goosebumps and her nipples hardened. She began licking her fingers as it tasted like sweet honey in her mouth. She began sucking her fingers until she realized what she was doing. She undressed and showered with cold water before hitting the bed.
“I know you want me to Sandra.” Jim said at the foot of her bed. Sandra jumped up as she saw Jim naked stroking his hard manhood. “Jim you know I hate it when you call me… Jim stop that!” Jim laughed as he walked closer to her. His body glistening with sweat, his muscles bulging under his tight skin. He smelled intoxicating, a mixture of sex and desire. She wanted to resist but couldn't find the strength. “C’mon mom you promised to take care of me when dad died. Let’s take care of each other.” Jim said as he climbed on the bed and straddled her. His thick cock pointed at her lips. Sandra felt her heart race as she opened her mouth and took him in. Jim moaned loudly as she began to suck him off. His sweet taste filled her mouth and she couldn't help but swallow.
Sandra awoke from her dream drenched in sweat as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached as she was tempted to touch herself. She stopped herself as in a trance she got up and disrobed her pajamas. She put on her black lace bra and panties and her thigh high stockings. An outfit she hadn’t worn since Jack’s passing and walked to Jim’s bedroom.
Sandra opened the door and found Jim tossing and turning in bed. He was naked, his muscular body covered in sweat. The sheets were tangled around his legs, and he was moaning softly in his sleep. Her heart raced as she took a step closer to the bed. She reached out and gently ran her hand through his sweaty hair, causing him to stir slightly. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back.
"Jimmy?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. He didn't respond, still lost in his dreams. Sandra climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips, and laid her head on his chest. His heartbeat thundered in her ears, matching her own racing pulse. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and the scent of his skin filled her nostrils. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling the warmth of his skin against her own.
She let her fingers wander, tracing the lines of his abs, teasing the hairs on his chest. Jim moaned softly, his body tensing beneath her touch. She leaned forward, capturing one of his nipples between her teeth, gently biting down. He cried out, his hips bucking upwards, seeking contact with her. She released his nipple, feeling the hard peak beneath her fingertips as it stood at attention.
Her heart raced, her breath coming faster as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear. "You feel so good, Jimmy," she whispered, her voice husky. "So alive." She slid her hand lower, over his abdomen and toward his hip. Her fingers found the soft cotton of his boxers, tracing the outline of his erection through the fabric. "Let me help you feel better," she breathed, her hand moving lower still, reaching beneath the fabric and grasping him firmly.
Jim awoke and quickly jerked up. He looked around confused before focusing on his mother. "Mom?" he said, his voice thick with desire. Sandra smiled softly, her eyes locked on his erection. "You're so big," she breathed, running her hand up and down his shaft. "So hard." She leaned forward, taking him into her mouth, sucking gently at first before deepening the kiss, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. Jim's hips bucked, pushing deeper into her mouth as he moaned loudly.
Sandra increased speed as her head jerked up and down on Jim’s cock. His hips began to thrust forward, meeting her movements with an urgency that she hadn't expected. His moans filled the room, mixing with her own wet, slurping sounds as she sucked him deeper. She could feel his hot seed building in his veins, ready to explode. “Yes please taste my cum!” he gasped, his voice hoarse.
With one last powerful thrust, Jim came, his seed erupting from his cock and splashing onto the back of her throat. Sandra swallowed eagerly, savoring the salty taste as it filled her mouth. Jim collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving as he fought for air. Sandra slowly pulled her mouth away, her lips still wet with his cum, and looked up at him.
“You taste so good. Ahhhh” Sandra moaned as she felt her body shake. The virus flowed into her as her older skin tightened and gained a more youthful color. The crows feet under eyes vanished as she felt her breasts firm up. She grabbed them and felt them grow in her hands. Her graying blond hair gained its vibrant blond color of her youth. Sandra’s back arched as she felt her ass grow. The stockings stretched as her thighs got a bit thicker and her calves got strong. She stood on her toes as her foot arch returned to her dancing form. She felt her tight abdomen as she smiled remembering how men desired her. She was even better than how she was then and an even more handsome man than Jack was before her.
Jim felt his cock come back to attention as he saw his mom become even hotter than she was. Jim was always attracted to her but the virus had made his desires impossible to ignore. “Damn Sandra you’re smoking hot.” Sandra with lightning speed jumped on Jim as she guided his hard member into her wet pussy. She began gyrating as Jim fell back on the bed paralyzed by pleasure. “What did I say about calling me that? I’m mommy baby” she moaned as she squeezed her inner muscles around him. Jim moaned as he felt every inch of her tight, wet heat envelop him. He thrust into her, meeting her rhythm, their skin slapping together in perfect harmony.
Jim finally looked up and caressed her body freeing her breasts from her bra. “Yes mommy. Ungh you feel so good.” Sandra moaned as she felt his hands on her. She reached down and held his wrists, guiding them up above his head, pinning him down as she continued to ride him. Jim felt helpless and utterly at her mercy, his hips bucking uselessly against the bed.
Sandra grabbed Jim’s hands and placed them on her hosiery covered thighs. Jim groaned loudly as he felt his cock twitch. “You like when mommy wears these?” she asked, her voice husky with desire. Jim nodded weakly, his hips moving involuntarily against the bed. She smiled down at him, her eyes flashing with lust. With a swift motion, she slid her hand down between their bodies and began rubbing her clit as she continued to ride him.
Her other hand moved up to cup his face, her thumb tracing circles around his lips. Jim opened his mouth, eager to taste her as she leaned down and brushed their lips together. Their tongues tangled, their breath mixing as they shared the sensation of her body moving against his.
Sandra arched her back, her nails digging into his chest as her orgasm washed over her. She cried out, her body shuddering with pleasure as she came. Jim felt her walls squeeze tight around him, her muscles contracting in the most exquisite way. His own release followed close behind, his seed spilling deep inside her as he groaned.
They both collapsed on the bed as their morals disappeared and their desires increased.
“I was so wrong to keep you cooped up here in the house. I better let you go back to school baby.”
1 week later
Jim was brought into the research facility when a student called the CDC. Apparently Jim couldn’t recall how many students he had sex with. The CDC began testing students to see who was infected and found them all. The virus was contained.
“Sir, he did spend time home before coming back to school. Should we test the mother too?”
“Negative, the virus is only transmitted via fluids. He wouldn’t fuck his mom.”
And so the virus spread.
#beautification#transformation#f2f transformation#breast expansion#bimboification#origin stories#ass expansion#beauty is power#virus#mind corruption#stepmom
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Mommy's Good Girl
"Look at you. Who's my good girl, my pretty little bimbo now?"
*GIGGLES* "Me!"
"Yes you are. I thoroughly enjoyed molding you. Transforming you into my perfect bimbo pet. You even encouraged me to embrace my bimbo side. Are you happy about that?"
*PURR* "Yes Mistress!"
"Of course. You're always joyful and carefree now now. Plump lips always smiling. Excitedly bouncing up and down and jiggling your tits all the time. But you weren't always that happy, were you?"
*POUT* "No...not at first" *SMILES* "Not until you made me your dolly!"
"That's right dear. You did fight being my plastic Barbie princess for a while. But I'm much smarter than you and I noticed...it all seem like an act. Were you being a little bimbo brat and resisting? Wanting me to punish you and push you even farther?"
*GRINS SHYLY* "Maaaaaybe"
*SMILE* "I knew you'd enjoy being a bimbo. MY bimbo. Isn't that right, baby?"
"Soooo right. You're, like, the bestest partner a bimbo could ask for - my dommy mommy bimbo gf! Yay!"
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THE PASSENGER
Nervously biting her lip, Donna looked around the fetish store she had accidentally wandered into and desperately looked for the exit.
She didn't know what had drawn her into Evie's Emporium in the first place, but now she was inside she could see it wasn't her kind of shop at all. The small and mousy young woman blushed bright red as she walked past a rack of sex toys. She was famously insecure and easily embarrassed, so this shop was her idea of Hell.
She needed a dress to wear tonight for dinner with her boyfriends boss, but none of the tight latex and fetish outfits she could see hanging from racks would do. Everything in here looked like something some sort of super confident slut might wear, not her style at all.
Donna was tiny, flatchested and average looking. She had a very submissive personality - in fact her friends all mocked her for being such a pushover. They called her 'The Passenger' because she'd pretty much just go along with what anyone else wanted.
As she headed towards the exit she passed a rack with a naughty pink latex dress hanging from it. It was clearly designed for a tall, busty, dominating sort of woman. Donna's hands made contact with the material as she passed.
*ZAP*
Donna stopped. She urged her body to move, to keep walking, but to her horror it didn't seem to be responding to her commands. Instead her body was now moving by itself, like someone else was in control.
She felt herself pick up the latex dress and her body language instantly change. Her back straightened, her stride became more confident and unabashed. She felt herself walk over to the counter and buy the latex dress from the smirking blonde woman on the counter.
"You can get changed in the back if you want babe."
Donna walked to the dressing room at the back of the store. Keeping one hand on the dress, she struggled out of her clothing - even stripping off her underwear - then she began to clamber into the tight, stretchy pink latex.
"Ohhhh fuckkkk yesssss," she heard herself moan as her body throbbed with erotic energy. Donna's flat chest itched as she yanked the straps of the dress over her shoulders.
"Mmmmmmmh, bigger... yesssss, make them bigger," she heard herself say as her chest exploded with pleasure. With a delicious sensation of power and confidence, Donna felt her breasts grow. They swelled up, big firm and round on her chest - growing from A cups to DD's in a matter of seconds.
Her pale skin tanned to a healthy rosy glow and with a stretching sucking sound, the latex dress tightened deliciously around her body as her flat ass pushed out into a big round booty and she grew nearly six inches in height.
She was now an Amazoness and she looked almost unrecognisible as she shook her normally tightly bound hair loose and it fell into elegantly styled mane all the way down her back.
"Mmmmh, that's SO much better. I feel like a brand, new, bitch..."
Donna adjusted her dress, enjoying her new tits yet still not in control of her body. She was just a passenger in her own head. She felt herself apply more makeup and saw she now had long sexy pink acrylic nails the same colour as her dress. Her sensible flat shoes had transformed into six inch pink heels and with a clop, she turned on her stiletto's and easily walked out of the store with a strut.
****
Donna desperately tried to fight for control of her body, but it simply wouldn't obey her. Somehow, touching the dress had made her lose control to some alternative version of herself.
In her car, Donna hiked up her dress. She wasn't surprised to see her pussy was now completely waxed smooth and a pink princess butt plug the same colour as her dress now twinkled in her perfect ass.
"Fuck yessss," she hissed rubbing her clit and touching her breasts as she began to masturbate in the car-park. Reaching into her hand-bag, Donna found a small bullet vibrator and switching it to maximum, slid it into her pussy.
Then, with a wicked smile she pulled her dress down and already cumming, pushed the accelerator down and drove away.
In her own mind Donna screamed and drooled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body and she orgasmed harder than she had in years...
***
The restaurant was busy and all eyes were magnetically drawn to Donna as she strode through to the table. She had bought a fur coat to wear over her sexy dress and expensive gold and diamond jewellery now hung round her pretty neck and on her slender wrists.
She looked amazing and her boyfriend George's mouth dropped open as his boss Damien stood up with a grin and kissed her hand.
"George, you never told me your girlfriend was so beautiful. She's... not... how you described her."
"D...Donna... h... how?" stammered George.
Ignoring him, Donna felt her body sit at the table and lean forward so her massive breasts were now prominently displayed. "I'd like Champagne to begin with baby, then I think the Lobster."
"B...but babe, they're the most expensive things on the menu."
"Exactly," purred Donna as she leant forward to give Damian a better view of her tits.
This was going to be fun.
***
The ladies bathroom was quiet except for the sucking sound coming from the stalls.
Damian groaned as Donna knelt before him, his big dick in her mouth. She sucked and slurped, her head moving back and forth as she used her slutty hands to massage his balls and the shaft of his cock.
In her head Donna felt shame, but also excitement. She should be appalled at betraying her lovely boyfriend, yet somehow even as a passenger she was loving every minute of this. Cucking her boyfriend was kind of hot, especially now she was such a hot bitch.
"Ohhhh fuck, George is gonna realise what we're up to if we're gone much longer..." gasped Damian.
"Mmmmh, fuck that loser," giggled Donna as she looked up at her new lover with glee. "He doesn't deserve me anyway. Let's sneak out of the back and go to a hotel. I wanna see what this cock can really do..."
Damian grinned and helped her up. "Fuck yessss."
***
Switching off her phone to ignore the increasingly desperate calls from George, Donna tossed it onto the floor and resumed her sucking.
Damian lay on the hotel bed, his huge cock now fully engorged as she sucked and slurped the length. Donna could feel her body moving by itself, she had never been this confident at sex, but now she was a Goddess.
"Are you ready baby?" she purred stradling him. Her dress was pulled down to reveal her massive tits and hiked up so her tight pussy was visible. Hovering over Damian's cock, she slowly lowered herself down and used her hands to guide Damian's big cock inside herself.
"FUCKKKKKK," she moaned happily. "You're so much bigger than that loser."
Grinding her hips and moaning, her big tits bouncing like a pornstar - Donna began to ride her lover. She had never felt so alive...
***
Donna opened her eyes and groaned. She lifted a hand to her face and then gasped. Her hand... it was obeying her.
Leaping to her feet, she looked around. She was in a hotel room. In the bed next to her lay Damian snoring and exhausted. The pink latex dress lay discarded on the floor. Her last memories had been of Damian tearing it off her body as he urgently thrust inside her and they both climaxed and passed out.
She looked down. Tiny tits, pale skin, normal body.
Oh God - what had she done?
Trembling she walked to the mirror and examined herself. No - she was definitely back to normal. The dress, it had turned her into a monster. A passenger in her own head. She had done such evil, slutty, bitchy things.
Mmmmmh and it had felt so fucking good.
Donna felt weak and unconfident. She was in control of her body again, but she realised how disapointing that was. She had enjoyed being strong, dominant and confident. She had enjoyed looking out through her own eyes whilst a more confident version of herself was in control.
She looked over at Damian. George was going to kill her. Their relationship was probably over. How was she going to handle this? She didn't know how.
Her eyes fell onto the pink dress.
Her pink dress...
***
Striding out of the hotel, an uncaring bitchy look on her face - Donna finished tying her sexy hair into a tight ponytail as she smoothed down her latex dress and revelled in the feeling of her powerful busty body.
Behind her eyes, Donna felt so happy. Her body knew exactly what it wanted and what to do. She would never need to think again, only enjoy the sensations of being a dominant bitch.
She was just the Passenger now and she fucking loved it.
THE END
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STEP MOM'S GIFT
OMG - Jane, I can't believe your Step Mom just gave me this fur coat! Isn't that nice of her?
I swear, sometimes she treats me like I'm her daughter too... I know, I know, she's an evil manipulative golddigger and we shouldn't trust the bitch, but it would be rude to turn down a birthday present.
Fine, I won't take anything else from her, I promise.
Anyway, don't I look cute in this? I love how it makes my ass look. Hmm, I wonder if blonde hair would go well with the fur...
***************
There you are bitch, where's your Step Mom? I need to thank her for my sexy new boobs.
These last few months have been nothing but an endless stream of gifts from her; from tanning sessions to plastic surgery, luxury makeup to designer clothes. I've had it all!
I know I promised I wouldn't let her give me anything else, but it turns out I like breaking promises just as much as I love being spoiled by her.
You know, sometimes when we're out together, people actually think we're mother and daughter! We don't even correct them anymore, we think it's funny.
We've really opened each other's eyes to how pathetic you are, to the point where I can't believe I used to call you my friend.
Honestly it's a miracle you actually have any friends, let alone a boyfriend - well, soon to be former boyfriend.
Hahaha, let's just say I've been showing him what company with a real woman is like!
Consider it my birthday gift to you. Hmmm, speaking of... did your Step Mom even get you anything this year?
No? I thought not, turning me into her perfect evil-stepdaughter has kept her very preoccupied after all.
Oops - did I let that slip?
Well, no point hiding it now. Besides, it's far too late for you to stop this, the adoption papers are already submitted.
My own family hasn't recognised me for weeks, and Step-Mommy's treated me as her own ever since I put on this fur coat, all we're doing is formalising it.
She's probably writing you out of your Dad's will as we speak, and putting me in instead.
I hope you're looking forward to living in my fucking shadow, 'step-sister.' Hehe, I'm going to love my new life...
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Meet Cute
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at playing around with AI co-authoring, with maybe 75% either being my own work or a heavy rewrite of the suggestions. It's a very crude and ugly little bit smut, but felt good enough to share it. Any stories I do share in the future that use AI for more than editing and brainstorming will be noted as such!
Sarah was so deeply focused on her homework, she didn't notice the man sitting across from her until he started talking.
"You know, girls as cute as you shouldn't need to study so hard," his voice cracked as he wheezed out the words.
Sarah could feel her whole body tense up. This guy had been bugging her all week, pestering her with inane chatter about anime and hentai. She just wanted to be left alone. She looked up at him, glaring at the overweight and unbathed lump sitting at seat on the other side of the table. Her almond eyes narrowing into slits, barely able to keep herself from screaming at him.
"I suggest you focus on your own life, buddy," she snapped back, her tone sharper than a knife.
The weeb recoiled slightly, but only for a pause. After a moment of stuttering, he seemed to regain his undeserved confidence. With a slightly unhinged smile, he launched into another speech about some obscure anime series.
"Like in Duko-Duko Magica?" he continued, completely ignoring Sarah's protest. "The One-Chan; doesn't have to worry about school, her master just puts a replica of her in class so no one suspects she's off having adventures!"
His tone was that of a father trying to explain a storybook to a toddler. This man wasn't talking to Sarah, but down to her. Even without his hunched posture, Sarah suspected she'd still be taller than this dork.
Was he wearing the same, sweat-stained anime t-shirt from yesterday, when he first tried to corner her in the library? Sarah was nearly sure of it, but wouldn't put it past this loser to have multiple outfits that were plastered with girls making faces with their tongues out...
"It's an 'Ahegao' pattern," the man said leaning forward. Sarah had unexpectedly zoned out, staring at him. " Though you know that already, being Japanese! It's actually the 'Mind-Break Ahegao' edition," he continued pointing at his chest. "Limited drop!"
Sarah felt lightheaded and frustrated. She couldn't believe how persistent and presumptive this guy was. While her family was from Japan, she'd never been herself and had never watched anime.
"Listen, I don't want to talk about this anymore," Sarah finally said, her voice trembling with impatience. "Can you just leave me alone?"
The man's face contorted into a mask of disbelief. "But we're having such a fun conversation!" he whined.
Sarah was done with this loser and his racist shit. She started to collect her things, packing them up to escape this annoying prick.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed the man shifting in his chair, looking around nervously. His nerves coming back.
"It's not supposed to take this long..." he muttered to himself. "'Instant changes' is what the site said..."
Sarah paused, confused and oddly concerned by his change in demeanor. She hated this guy from the moment she set eyes on him, yet now she felt some irrational empathy.
He seemed like a pathetic loner, desperate for human connection that he would cling onto anything within reach. That desperation reminded her of her own loneliness, amplified by being a minority in an overwhelmingly white campus.
As he mumbled under his breath, she found herself glancing at his shirt again. The lewd drawings were unsettling, especially since they appeared to be moving - pulsing faintly with each heartbeat. Suddenly, a wave of vertigo washed over her. She struggled to sit upright, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Was it the late hour? Or perhaps something in the air?
Maybe it was too close to the radiator and there was something wrong with the heating system, because she suddenly felt incredibly warm and light-headed. Her hands, which moments ago held tightly onto her books, loosened their grip. She stared blankly at the book covers sprawled before her on the table. In that hazy state, she realized that they depicted scenes from Japanese folklore, images that once alien to her were now strangely familiar. It was like she remembered childhood memories of hearing these stories told by her grandmother during bedtime.
Sarah closed her eyes with surprise at the vivid imagery she saw in her mind.
"Hey, are you ok?" The man leaned toward her, concern etched into his previously obnoxious expression. "Maybe you should get some rest."
"No, I'm fine," Sarah assured him, opening her eyes wide. "Just tired, I guess."
The man nodded sympathetically. "You've been working too hard. Exchange students have it the toughest."
"I'm not..." Sarah began to protest and stopped herself. She wasn't an exchange student, was she?
Sarah thought to herself, her grip tightening around her textbooks. But then why do I feel this strange sense of familiarity? She wondered if she had simply forgotten her heritage due to spending her entire life in America. Maybe her mother spoke tales of Japanese myths during her childhood, stories that somehow lodged themselves deep enough inside her brain to surface now.
"Are you sure you're doing alright?" He asked, peering at her intently. Sarah was taken aback by her sudden attraction to his soft brown eyes. They were full of genuine concern, a stark contrast to his previous arrogant attitude.
For a brief moment, Sarah considered sharing her confusion with him. Yet, she hesitated, fearing that he might exploit her vulnerability. Instead, she simply replied, "Yeah, I'm good. Just need to take a break."
She stood up abruptly, hoping to end the conversation. However, as she did, a sharp pain coursed through her legs, causing her to stumble. Mark caught her quickly, his firm grip steadying her. Sarah blinked, surprised by his unexpected gentleness.
"Maybe you should sit down. You look exhausted," he suggested softly.
Sarah looked up at him. Just a few moments ago she'd assumed he was about her height but now he towered over her, looking almost manly in spite of his flabby shape.
Something was happening to her. Sarah didn't fully understand it, but if felt like gravity itself had shifted. The whole world seemed a bit taller, and this man's touch felt like a life preserver she needed to cling to.
"This is... This is all wrong." Sarah breathed out, trying to keep from fainting.
A hungry smirk crawled over the man's face, once that filled Sarah with strong revulsion. She yanked herself back.
"What... what are you doing to me?" she stumbled, catching herself on the table.
Sarah felt a strange sensation in her head, this was beyond exhaustion. Sarah managed to ask, her voice trembling.
Mark maintained a deceptively calm composure, though beneath his outwardly collected exterior, he felt ecstatic. He had finally found someone who understood his passion for anime and accepted him.
"Nothing much," Mark responded nonchalantly. "Just trying to help you relax, that's all."
"Relax?" Sarah scoffed incredulously.
" Relax? What kind of sick game are you playing with me?"
His face fell, his eyes widening innocently. "Sick game? No way, Sarah. You know me, I'm Mark. We bonded over our love for anime..."
"Oh yeah?" Sarah retorted sarcastically. "And what makes you think I'd enjoy something so... so ridiculous?"
Mark faltered for a moment, looking hurt. "Well, you seem pretty stressed out..." Mark trailed off quietly, swallowing the last of his words.
Anger boiled up inside Sarah, threatening to overwhelm her resolve. "Stressed?" she spat, unable to contain her fury. "How dare you insinuate that you can read my mind? That you can even begin to comprehend my feelings?"
Her voice shook with anger, and she took a step backward, away from him. Mark's gaze followed her every movement, his eyes flickering between sadness and determination.
"I-I'm serious..." she couldn't focus on his face. As much as she wanted to scream, looking at him seemed to diffuse the anger. She didn't want to hurt him, she wanted him to be happy. It was her place to make him happy...
"You're just becoming more _you_" he comforted her, and Sarah couldn't help but nod in agreement. This tall, sweet man was just trying to help a confused exchange student. How could she ever have been so rude to him?
Sarah felt ashamed and guilty, wishing she could turn back time and apologize. Instead, she stood frozen on the spot, her heart pounding against her chest. "Mark, please forgive me," she whispered, her voice cracking in despair. "I didn't mean to lash out at you. I'm just scared and confused right now..."
Mark gazed at her with tender compassion, silently acknowledging her apology. "Don't worry about it, Sarah," he reassured her gently. "I understand that you're going through a lot right now..." Mark spoke in a soothing voice, reaching out to lightly touch
Sarah's arm. Sarah felt a shockwave of pleasure ripple through her body. "But I promise you, everything will be okay. We'll find a way to make things better."
Sarah swallowed hard, her throat parched and dry. "I just don't... I don't feel like myself anymore," she confessed, her voice breaking. "I feel like I'm losing control. My thoughts are jumbled, and I can't remember..." Sarah said weakly, feeling increasingly vulnerable.
"You're just remembering who you truly are, deep down," Mark murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. "You're not just a diligent student, Sari-chan."
Sarah tried to resist, but his gentle touch felt too inviting. "What are you talking about?" she whispered hoarsely. "I'm Sarah. I-I don't know you at all. You're doing something to me. You drugged me or something..."
Sarah winced thinking of what he said. "Sari-chan", the nickname feeling alien and foreign on her tongue. Still, she couldn't deny the strange sense of comfort it brought her. It made her want to lean closer to Mark, basking in his warmth and safety.
"Let's just sit here for a moment, shall we?" Mark coaxed, leading Sarah to sit with him on the cold stone floor. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, offering her a comforting embrace.
"Mark-san." Sarah said, her voice seeming oddly light and girly. "What did you do to me?"
Mark's arm wrapped around her, slyly cupping her breast as he comforted her.
"You're just remembering who you truly are, deep down," he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm.
Sarah gasped, her body jolting involuntarily. "What are you doing?" she cried out, instinctively attempting to push his hand away.
"Shh, Sari-chan," Mark hushed her, tightening his grasp around her waist. "There's nothing to be afraid of." Mark whispered into Sarah's ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down her spine. "I'm only trying to help you. To bring back your true self."
"My true self?" Sarah repeated, feeling a strange mixture of apprehension and excitement welling up inside her. "Who am I really, Mark?"
With a soft chuckle, Mark pulled Sarah closer, pressing her body against his. "You're Sari-Chan. You're the beautiful Japanese girl who's too in love with me to ever say anything." Mark said, his voice sounding confident and dominant.
Sarah felt a surge of arousal course through her veins. The idea of being a submissive Asian woman enthralled her. She'd spent years suppressing her true desires—the longing for a powerful, protective man to guide her every move. Now, it was like the floodgates had opened, uncovering buried fantasies she'd never allowed herself to explore.
"Why...? Why you want girl like Sari-chan?" Sarah asked, her voice quivering uncontrollably. "Mark-san is big and handsome American..."
Sarah's own brain betrayed her, her memories of home being replaced with fuzzy memories of cherry blossoms and Japanese villages. Images that weren't hers but now seemed to be part of her deepest self swam in her mind.
"Sari-chan, you're ready to show yourself to everyone, aren't you?" Mark whispered seductively, his hot breath tickling Sarah's neck.
"Oh yes, Mark-san," Sarah whimpered, feeling an odd sense of liberation. "I'm ready to be yours forever."
Mark smiled triumphantly, stroking Sarah's silky hair. "That's my girl," he murmured approvingly.
"I knew you could do it. I could see it in your eyes."
#asian bimbo#reality change#f2f transformation#mind control#my content#asian stereotypes#asian girl#corruption
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Spreading Darkness
Your mother had just gotten home from one of her many daily shopping trips at the mall and was very excited to show off her new dress, she said the sales clerk picked it out for her and though it had looked too small at first when she tried it, on it fit perfectly.
Eventually you noticed the flower pattern on her dress disappearing, almost as though black of the dress was absorbing the color straight out of the flowers till nothing remained.
Before long even the material of the dress began changing, becoming a sleek latex. You were so shocked the events unfolding before your eyes you didn't even notice her hair become stained black by whatever was causing these changes.
The final changes came as your mothers very skin was affected and became darker in short time. The new ebony goddess no longer resembled your mother in the slightest, and after a moment you didn't even remember who this goddess standing before you was.
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The Collector: Rebecca
This is a new one from me. I'm thinking of making this a series. I'd love your thoughts on the concept of The Collector.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rebecca sat in line at the grocery store, counting the price of the items in her cart. She double-checked her bank account balance. It’s going to be a tough week. Heck, it’s been a tough few months.
She thought of her young daughter, the apple of her eye. I just have to keep moving forward. As long as Janie doesn’t go hungry, I’m succeeding.
“Curious, isn’t it, how the simplest choices can weigh so heavily?” came a statement from the man behind her in line. He nodded towards the items in Rebecca’s cart. Rebecca froze for a second, off put by this interruption. She turned to face the man, his expression putting her mind at ease.
“Yes, it can be hard sometimes,” Rebecca replied, surprised at her own openness with a complete stranger.
The Collector smiled, his interest apparent. “And what choices weigh on you today?” he inquired, his tone gentle.
Rebecca hesitated, but there was something soothing about the guy’s voice. Is it really so obvious that I’m struggling? she wondered, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief at being seen. “Oh, ya know, just the usual stuff,” she found herself responding, more open than she intended. Why am I even sharing this with a stranger?
“Indeed, a delicate balance,” The Collector responded, his interest piqued. “And is this a solo act, or do you have someone sharing this tightrope walk with you?”
Rebecca’s thoughts immediately went to her daughter. My little warrior. Everything I do, I do for her. The pride and love she felt for her daughter were evident, even as she spoke of her hardships. “Just me and my little girl. I’m always working to make sure she’s got what she needs.”
“Admirable,” he acknowledged, leaning in slightly. “Does this journey bring you more joy, or is it more like a constant worry?”
Joy? Worry? Of course, it’s both. “It’s a bit of both, really,” she admitted, surprised at her own willingness to be so candid. “I mean, I love my daughter to bits, wouldn’t trade her for the world. But, man, it’s tough. Working my butt off for peanuts, always feeling like you’re just one bad day away from everything crashing down.”
“Commendable,” he nodded. “And in this effort, where do you find yourself most days? What path of employment have you taken?”
Rebecca paused, a hint of embarrassment coloring her voice. “I work at a diner, ya know? Waiting tables. It ain’t much, but it pays some of the bills. I can pickup shifts, sometimes, for a bit extra. Just, it feels like it’s never enough to get ahead, ya know?”
Revealing her job at the diner brought a twinge of embarrassment, Just a waitress. That’s all people see. But it’s more than that to me. It’s survival.
The Collector’s look was full of sympathy, but there was something else there, too, like he really got it. “The burden of such responsibility is heavy indeed. What if I told you there was a way to ease this burden? To make your life less about scraping by and more about really living?”
Could there really be a way out? Or is this just another dead end dressed up in pretty words? “Yeah, that sounds pretty good. But how’s something like that supposed to happen?” she asked, a desperate hope flickering inside her. “It’s not like jobs are just falling out of the sky, especially not for someone like me.”
“Ah, but what if I told you that the sky is not the limit, but merely the beginning?” The Collector offered, his voice a blend of mystery and assurance. “Opportunities are not always born from the clouds but from the willingness to embrace change.”
Rebecca thought over his words. Her head told her this was nuts, but she was intrigued. Change? I could really use a break. “And what’s this ‘opportunity’ gonna cost me?” she asked, trying to sound tough but feeling her resolve soften.
“Simply a willingness to step onto a new path,” The Collector answered, his smile cryptic.
Rebecca found herself oddly calm and trusting of this man. I’d do anything to help Janie have a good life.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I’m in.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rebecca, still grappling with the surreal nature of the conversation, began to ask, “So, what kind of job are you talking about—”
She was cut off, not by an answer, but by an odd, tingling sensation beneath her skin. Rebecca stared down in disbelief as the very fabric of her clothes began to alter before her eyes. Her plain, slightly worn-out sweater began to shrink and tighten, morphing into a vibrant red top that was far more revealing than anything in her wardrobe. It was an awkward fit at first, hanging oddly on her frame, clearly meant for a more voluptuous figure than hers.
This can’t be happening. Clothes don’t just change on their own.
Next, her attention shifted to her jeans, the reliable faded pair she’d worn countless times. They too began to change, the fabric tightening and shifting until it took on a new texture and appearance. Before she could process what was happening, her jeans had turned into shiny black leggings that were oddly loose on her hips and way too tight for her legs. The outfit looked misplaced on her, clearly designed for a different body type.
This is insane. That’s not my style. I wouldn’t wear that in a million years. I look ridiculous.
Then, the sensation beneath her skin intensified, spreading from the surface to her very core. Rebecca could only watch in stunned silence as her body began to change. Her stomach tightened and firmed, revealing a toned midriff that made the cropped top appear deliberately provocative rather than awkwardly ill-fitting.
My body… it’s changing?
Her breasts filled out next, swelling in a way that made the top’s low neckline shift from simply bold to outright indecent. Simultaneously, her legs thinned, muscles defining themselves in a graceful, yet strong display, while her buttocks firmed and swelled into a perfect heart shape, making the shiny leggings look as if they were painted on.
This can’t be me. I’ve never looked like this.
With her body now transformed, the ensemble of the vibrant top and leggings no longer seemed out of place. Instead, Rebecca looked like a walking dream, or wet dream. Seeing her reflection in the reflective glass near the register, Rebecca was horrified.
“What’s happening to me?” she gasped, her voice a mix of fear and disbelief.
The Collector watched, a serene assurance in his eyes. “It is simply the fulfillment of your request,” he said, his voice calm and unperturbed by the dramatic changes unfolding.
Fulfillment of my request? This is a nightmare, not a dream come true.
Rebecca’s attempt to voice her shock was immediately undercut by a change in her voice.. “What the hell is this? I didn’t ask for any—” she started, but her words quickly took on a coarser edge, her tone flirtatious yet something else as well.
This can’t be my voice. This isn’t what I sound like.
Her bewilderment only deepened as she heard herself speak. “What’ the fuck is going on, huh?” she blurted out, her language now a stark contrast to her previously reserved self.
Why am I talking like this? Since when do I use language like that in public?
The Collector observed her, his demeanor calm and unfazed. “You’re merely adapting to the opportunities ahead, embracing a new aspect of prosperity,” he explained, his tone soothing yet detached from the radical change overtaking her.
As Rebecca tried to voice her protest, not only did her words betray her, but her body began to move in new ways too. Every gesture, every shift in stance, seemed to accentuate her new figure. She noticed her posture straightening, her shoulders pulling back to thrust her chest forward, a stance she’d never taken before.
He’s acting like this is normal. Like I’m supposed to embrace becoming… what? Cheap slut?
She found herself leaning on the grocery cart with one hip cocked to the side, a pose that seemed calculated to draw attention to her curves. “Great, just fucking perfect. Is this how I stand now? Like I’m posing for a porn mag?” Her voice dripped with incredulity, even as her body language continued to contradict her words.
Even the simple act of reaching up to brush a stray hair from her face became a deliberate, sensuous action, her fingers trailing down her cheek in a way that seemed designed to captivate an audience. Rebecca caught herself in the middle of these motions, her frustration mounting. “And what’s with these fucking moves? I’m grocery shopping, not auditioning for a porno.”
The Collector observed her transformation with an air of detached curiosity. “Every aspect of you is embracing this new chapter, a chapter where you command attention effortlessly,” he noted, his calm tone a stark contrast to the storm of confusion and adaptation Rebecca was experiencing.
I guess I look kinda good.
Her attempts to counteract these involuntary poses and movements only led to further emphasis on her voluptuous figure, each protest accompanied by a hip sway or a chest thrust she hadn’t intended. “I’m hot, but how is anyone going to take me seriously?” she quipped, half in dismay and half in disbelief.
Finally, something in her brain clicked. Rebecca’s thoughts, her very perspective on life, began to align with this new version of herself, “Ruby,” as she would be known in her trade. Her initial panic and resistance faded away, replaced by a confident acceptance of her new identity.
Standing in the grocery store, now fully transformed, Ruby pulled out a wad of cash. She noticed a few judgemental glances her way and smiled.
Screw those fuckers. Life’s good. Stripping isn’t easy work, but I can take care of Janie and have time to spend with her. I’ll have her college paid off by the time she’s 10.
She paid for the food without a second thought. She even tipped the young cashier while giving him a wink.
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The Collector observed from a discreet distance. After Ruby had gathered her bags and turned toward the store’s exit, a small, knowing smile played across his lips.
In a smooth, almost ceremonial motion, he reached into the depths of his coat, withdrawing his hand to reveal a small, unidentifiable object clasped between his fingers. With grace, he slipped the object into his pocket, its significance known only to him.
Without another glance or gesture to indicate his intentions, The Collector stepped out of line, bypassing the cashier’s counter altogether. He left no items behind to be purchased, no trace of his presence was left behind.
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