Becoming One of the Girls

A fox girl gets a makeover from a pair of trashy rats. Explicit, crude language.

"Hey, mine aren't as fake as yours, barbie-tits." Maria pulled the collar of her leather jacket open and shoved her chest forward. It was true. Rita's tits sat higher and tighter than Maria's.

Rita clicked her tongue and flexed an arm. "That's 'cause I got muscle. Means it's harder for me to be a fatass than it is for girls like you."

Maria scoffed at the other rat girl leaning on the counter. "Like you don't love my fat ass. Why else are you hanging out here?" She gestured around, at the racks of trashy clothing and slutty clubwear. There weren't any customers, so The B*tch Boutique was quiet, aside from the constant pulsing club beat over the speakers.

"Body shop's closed, TV sucks, might as well talk to a skank," Rita said. She hopped up onto the counter and dragged a cigarette out of her pocket. Maria didn't bother to tell her not to light up inside. Number one, she didn't care, and number two, Rita looked so fucking butch when she smoked that it drove her wild.

"You just wanna watch hot chicks trying on slutty clothes," Maria said.

"If that was true, I'd just hide in your closet."


Prude. Tiffany's temples ached from how tightly she clenched her jaw. Just who did Jennifer think she was? Tiffany was not a prude. She was smart. She was driven. And she wasn't going to let some Jennifer steal her boyfriend with makeup and a push-up bra and her stupid sex kitten ponytail. Tiffany was going to prove that this vixen could look sexy if she wanted to.

She didn't really know how, but she was going to do it and she was going to get Jason back.

And that was why Tiffany, honors student, natural blonde, the fox-girl-next-door, strode into The B*tch Boutique with her lips pursed and fists clenched.

She realized she was out of her depth almost immediately. The pulsing beat pumped through the shop made her ears fold back; her snout wrinkled at the smell in the air. It smelled (Tiffany didn't want to be crude) like recent sex.

Topping off the intimidating impression were the two rat girls by the cash register. One was sitting up on the counter, in denim cutoffs and an undershirt tank top. She cocked a piercing-studded ear and met Tiffany's gaze without lifting the cigarette from her lips.

The other, standing behind the counter, had long, curly black hair and big hoop earrings dangling from her ears. She was squeezed into a miniskirt and a black leather jacket, unzipped low enough to make a point about how stacked she was.

"—hold on." The rat in the leather jacket turned away from her friend. "Hey foxy, you need some help?" She stepped out from behind the counter, toward Tiffany. Her voice had a sharp Bronx edge to it, and the way she was looking at Tiffany made Tiffany feel like she was being sized up for a fight.

Tiffany almost wanted to apologize, turn around, and walk back out the door. But then she thought about Jennifer, and how good it would be to see the look on her face when she won Jason back. That thought kept her in place.

"Yeah, I do." Tiffany said. "There's a guy I like, but this other girl is trying to get into his pants. I'm smart, but I just can't compete—"

"What a slut!" Maria cut Tiffany off and wrapped her arm around Tiffany's shoulder. "Don't worry, we're gonna help you out. I'm Maria, the dyke is Rita," she said, with a nod toward the smoking rat girl on the counter.

Rita snorted a small puff of smoke and smirked.

"C'mon, let's get you a new look," Maria said, pulling Tiffany along into the racks of clothes.

Tiffany was no longer one-hundred-percent sure about this, but she had to get Jason back. She wasn't going to let Jennifer win. She was not a prude.

"Here, start with this," Maria said, snatching a slim red thong off of a hanging rack. She spread it out between her claws, then pushed it into Tiffany's hand. Tiffany looked down at the thong, lips pursed tightly, weighing her own sense of what was proper clothing against how mad she was at Jennifer.

Thong in hand, Tiffany slipped into the changing room in the back of the store. Out of sight from the rat girls, she took a few deep breaths. That fresh-sex smell in the air was relentless. To make it worse, the throbbing bass beat was buzzing in her ears, like some kind of stinging feedback. Tiffany folded her ears against her head and shook them out. She'd be out of here soon enough. Just deal with it for a few more minutes.

Tiffany pulled down her skirt, then slid her gray panties down her thighs. Stepping into the red thong, she laced the straps up around her thighs and settled them onto her hips. She turned to the side and looked into the mirror. Her fingers grazed over the curve of her butt. She had never really bothered to check out her own ass before. It was kind of cute, and just a little bit naughty-looking with the thong wrapped around it. She flicked her tail around her waist coyly and gripped a handful of the fluffy fur..

Tiffany reached down to pull her skirt back on. As she bent over, she heard something in the music, something faint, just at the edge of her hearing. Her ears perked up to listen closer. What was that? While her pupils dilated and her eyelids drooped, her ears stood tall like antennas. Her jaw went slack. The bassline washed over her thoughts. After a few moments, she shook her head, closed her mouth, and stood straight.

Tiffany didn't need to put her skirt back on. She blinked at her own reflection in the mirror, trying to reason out her own thoughts. Maria was picking out a whole new outfit for her, so it didn't make sense to get re-dressed every time. Besides, Maria was a girl. It wasn't like she'd try to peek at Tiffany's body.

With a little strut in her hips, Tiffany left the changing room, her shoes and skirt in a pile on the floor. When she caught sight of Maria waiting outside, her eyes lingered on the rat's chest, squeezed into that leather jacket, and the shadow of her shirt against her thighs, and the gloss on her lips.

Tiffany, warm-cheeked, tugged at the strap of her thong. Why was she feeling so hot and flustery over Maria? Must have been nervousness. That sort of warm, horny nervousness that started in your crotch. No need to worry.

"Hey, check it out!" Maria said, turning toward Rita. "Turns out foxy's got an ass after all."

Maria gave Tiffany a stinging swat on the ass, and the vixen let out a wet pant. Sparks jumped inside her head. Oh yeah, do that again, slut, popped into her thoughts.

"Uh, so, are you going to pick out a new bra?" Tiffany asked quickly. Her hand rubbed at the lingering soreness on her backside. It felt almost like Maria had jabbed her with one of her claws.

"Nah, slut like you needs to be able to go strapless. No bra for you," Maria said.

Tiffany wanted to argue, but between the buzzing beat in her ears and the way Maria made her feel flustered, she couldn't concentrate on debating. She trailed behind the rat girl, watching her ass in that tight miniskirt.

With how little her thong covered, Tiffany felt almost nude, especially as her hips brushed against the passing racks of leggings or cocktail dresses. She paused, reaching back with both hands, rubbing along the red and white fur of her thighs. The stinging had faded, but she felt swollen. Thicker than she should have been. She squeezed her ass experimentally, then tugged at the straps of the thong, testing their tightness.

While Tiffany tried to figure out what was up with her butt, Maria returned, holding out a skimpy purple top that would cover little more than a band of fur around her chest. It laced up across the front, like a miniscule midriff-baring corset. "Here we go! Might be a bit loose right now, but put it on and I can fix it up when we're done," Maria said.

Tiffany opened her mouth to say she'd be right back. She meant to take the top to the changing room. But then her ears perked up, and she was listening to the beat again. Tiffany took a deep breath. Her train of thought crumbled away.

What was she doing? Putting on the top. Her eyes blinked heavily.

Without moving from where she stood, Tiffany's hands went down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it off over her head. Then came her bra, both dropped into a pile on the floor beside her. It wasn't until she had the purple tube top in hand that she began to realize what she was doing.

For a moment, she stared down at her bare, white-furred chest. It...wasn't like Maria hadn't seen breasts before, right? It wasn't like Tiffany was in public, either. Tiffany slipped her arms through the top and tugged it down around her chest, then pulled at the ends of the laces to tighten it across her chest. The top settled in, hugging her cute, if unremarkable, bustline.

Maria reached in, and squeezed and lifted the cups of Tiffany's top. Tiffany breathed in tightly. Maria's hands felt so warm against her tits. Er, her breasts, Tiffany corrected herself.

"Gotta get the fit right," Maria said. Her claws trailed along the curve of her breasts, while her thumbs pressed inward, against the slight rise of Tiffany's nipples. The vixen pressed her thighs together and let a soft whine slip from the back of her throat. Her tail wagged back and forth in the air behind her, and with each wag, it shed clouds of fur. Pink skin showed through in patches where the fur was thinnest..

Tiffany licked her lips. Her cheeks were warm. She realized she'd been leaning against Maria's hands. "I'm, um, sorry," she said.

"Don't be, they're just your tits," Maria said. "Now let's get some shit for your legs."

Tiffany sat down on a bench while Maria picked through her store's selection, guided by her own sense of fashion. Tiffany glanced over at the cash register, where Rita was still smoking, then back at Maria.

Her eyes naturally fell on the upper reaches of Maria's thighs, just below her miniskirt. If she leaned over, Tiffany could see up Maria's skirt, and catch a glimpse of her thong. She forced herself to look away, and instead her gaze landed on the neckline of Maria's jacket. If Maria took a deep breath, Tiffany could watch her breasts strained against the zipper for a moment, then relax. Tiffany felt warm and humid and lightheaded..

Tiffany's growing front teeth clicked together. The tight tube top had begun to dig0 into her chest if she breathed in too deep. With a light tug on the laces, she loosened them, giving her top a bit of slack. She took a deep breath and adjusted the fit across her tits.

Wait. She'd called her breasts her tits again. She was sounding like some kinda dumb slut. Wait—arrgh!

Tiffany buried her head in her paws and rubbed her palms against her eyes. Her tail swept back and forth behind her, pink and nude like a rat's tail. Her knees squeezed together and she rubbed her thighs against each other. The front of her thong was damp, her whole mound swollen and tender.

Maybe she could slip off to the changing room and get some, uh, private time, she thought. But before she could make her move, Maria come back, carrying a small pile of clothes in her arms.

"All right, here's what we got," Maria said. "We got fishnets, we got some slutty heels, and we got a miniskirt. Legs up, foxy."

Tiffany might have protested that she didn't want 'slutty' heels, but she was already juggling her concentration between the insistent heat between her legs and how fucking sexy Maria looked. Besides, she needed to beat Jennifer at her own game. She wanted Jason's cock back, right?

Tiffany obligingly lifted her leg. Maria got down on her knees and tugged the fishnet up around her thigh, then grabbed one of the purple stiletto heels and jammed Tiffany's toes into it. The straps and soles curled her feet into high arches, propped up on her cheap glossy plastic shoes. Then she did the same with the other leg: fishnet and high heel.

Maria grabbed Tiffany by the arm and pulled her up onto her feet. Tiffany teetered in her heels for a moment. Her calves ached and it felt almost like trying to balance in stilts. Tiffany had never really worn heels before.

Maria made Tiffany step into the skirt, then pulled the tight, glossy thing up around her legs. By the time it was up to her hips, it was clinging tightly, with a glossy sheen that highlighted the shape of Tiffany's ass. Getting up to her feet, Maria stood chest-to-chest with Tiffany and grabbed her ass cheeks. Squeezing the vixen against her, Maria slid her hands along the skirt, smoothing out the skintight material.

A whine left Tiffany's throat. Her back curled. She held onto Maria's shoulders and thrust her ass against her hands. Each beat of her heart made her pussy ache. The front of her thong was damp. While Maria blatantly groped her, Tiffany flicked her rat tail back and forth and splayed her rounder ears to the sides.

A slap cracked across Tiffany's ass. "Fucking ow!" she gasped. She bit back an apology for cursing and rubbed at the sore spot just above her ass. "Watch it with the claws," she said.

Maria cracked a grin and Tiffany heard Rita snickering from over on the counter.

"What?" she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Nothing," Maria said.

Tiffany rolled her eyes and turned to check out the new additions to her outfit in a mirror. The fishnets highlighted her thick thighs, the heels showed off her legs, and the skirt's tight fit made her ass look great. She re-adjusted the straps of her thong to sit a bit lower on her broad hips. Tiffany looked like one hot piece of ass.

But as she ran her hand over her pink tail, she frowned. She'd always had a great ass, right? ...right?

Something was wrong, but Tiffany struggled to put it into words. It was like...she wasn't supposed to be acting like this, somehow. But then, how was a horny fox bitch supposed to be acting? Wait, did she just call herself—

A stinging cloud of mist hit Tiffany full in the face. She blinked furiously, squinting through the mild burning in her eyes. Maria held a tiny perfume bottle inches from Tiffany's nose, her claw sitting on the nozzle. "Perfume time, bitch," she said.

Tiffany took in a sharp breath to start cursing out Maria, but as she did, the mist hanging in the air swept down her nose and throat and into her lungs. She coughed once, then her throat relaxed and she began to take deep, long breaths. Her nose twitched, quivered, and gradually stretched longer, looking more ratlike with each breath. Her round ears relaxed and her naked tail wiggled up into the air. Tiffany's eyes glazed over.

In her head, Jason—the handsome, responsible young fox—had grabbed her by the arms and pinned her face-down against a bed. With his other hand, he held her tail high. He fucked her like a wild beast, crashing into her over and over, making her bounce against the bed, making her cry out for more and claw at the sheets. Her makeup ran down her cheeks. "You love this, don't you?" he growled, in a more savage voice than he'd ever had in real life. Tiffany's eyes rolled back and she jerked her body and called out yes, fuck yes, fuck her like a slut...

Tiffany blinked. Her fantasy shuddered. She blinked again, and it dissolved away, leaving her standing right where she'd been in the middle of The B*tch Boutique.

"So, you like the perfume? It's like pure fucking pheremones," Maria said, wiggling the bottle in her hand.

Tiffany was nearly out of breath. "Yeah. Smells good," she mumbled.

The perfume shelf was full of cheap, flimsy boxes with labels stuck on them like 'Fuck' and 'Rutting' and 'Cunt'. Maria stuck the bottle she held back into the box marked 'Rutting', flipped the top shut, and tossed it onto the counter.

Tiffany rubbed her eyes and sniffed her rat-like nose. "It's...strong, though."

"Well, yeah. You want the guys' dicks hard for you, right?"

Tiffany tugged at the front of her miniskirt. She did want their dicks hard for her.

Rita emerged from underneath a sheet draped over a doorframe behind the cash register. Her cigarette was still glowing between her lips, and in her hand, she held a piercing gun like a prized revolver.

"Hey, foxy, want some metal?" Rita asked.

Maria nudged her side. "You'd look real tough."

On one hand, Tiffany thought piercings looked trashy. On the other hand, the horny fox bitch wanted to look hot. She grabbed the edge of the counter and took a deep breath to steady herself. The chemical-sweet smell of Rutting filled her nose and sunk down into her lungs.. Her eyes rolled back and she tipped forward onto the counter, bent over at the waist.

The boutique was gone, and instead, she was in an alleyway. A firm hand had gripped her hair, pulling, twisting her head back. Her claws gripped the brick wall in front of her, pushing to keep herself from being shoved against it with each rough thrust into her. "Skanky slut," snarled a deep voice over her head.

Tiffany looked up, but in the darkness, all she could see was a silhouette and the gleam of light against large fangs. "Trashy whore." Tiffany's claws scored tracks in the bricks as she cried out loud. A few drops of her juices stained the dry asphalt beneath her.

And then, with a jolt she was back to reality.

"Maybe...maybe a piercing would be hot," she said, panting, eyes struggling to focus. Her chest was pressed against the counter and her fists had a death grip on the edge. Her high heels were planted firmly on the ground, with her toe-claws clenched as if holding onto the soles. Her fists relaxed, but she stayed slumped over on the counter, trying to catch her breath.

Rita plucked at one of Tiffany's round ears, lifting it up by the tip. She positioned the gun just right, at the base of Tiffany's earlobe, and then—Tiffany winced. The lingering euphoria from her little fantasy numbed the pain to a dull sting.

With a claw under Tiffany's chin, Maria lifted her face and uncapped a roll of lipsick. She squeezed Tiffany's cheeks and rolled the dark, purplish-red color across her lower lip. Her lip felt tender and puffy, and when she closed her mouth again, it sat strangely against her teeth, trying to cope with her larger incisors. By now, Tiffany's long, narrow snout was almost entirely rat-like.

"So what's the deal with the dick who left you?" Rita asked. Another jab, this time from Tiffany's other ear.

"Yeah," Maria said, capping the lipstick and grabbing an eyeliner pencil instead. She held Tiffany's eyelid steady as she traced thick lines around her eyes, top and bottom. "Why's his cock so important you've got to have him back? Or you just too dumb to go for some other guy's cock?"

Tiffany was still catching her breath. "N-no, I'm a smart bitch, I'm just trying to, uhm—"

Maria snorted. "You came in here cause you couldn't figure out how to look hot on your own. Don't sound so smart to me."

Two more numb jolts from Rita's gun, along the edge of Tiffany's ears, a little higher than the first. She hauled out a small bin of cheap plastic earrings, and started searching for a matching set.

Tiffany's red coat was salt-and-peppering itself into a uniform gray, lighter than Maria's fur but darker than Rita's. Her legs were planted wide behind her, making room for her swollen pussy and her soaked thong. A droplet of her own juices ran down her thigh.

Tiffany was so wet she felt like she was in heat. And like going into heat, every thought in her head that wasn't sex was muffled and distant. Her body was telling her that she needed, needed, needed to get fucked. Any thought that managed to form in her head quickly melted, like snow in summer, and joined the heat pooling between her thighs.

Rita hung two pairs of hoops from Tiffany's ears. Maria flicked some mascara across Tiffany's lashes. Rita told Tiffany to stick out her tongue, then gave her a piercing right through the middle and filled it with a steel stud.

Tiffany got her hands beneath her and pushed herself back up onto her heels. Her instincts were telling her to run, but her mind was hazy and crowded with thoughts of sex. Her clothes struggled to contain her; her tits pulled the laces on her top tight, her skirt stretched around her ass, and her fishnets clung to her thick thighs.

Her tongue was a bit thick, a bit numb from the piercing. It clicked against her incisors as she spoke. "I think I...I should...nnh," Tiffany said. Her legs pressed together. Another drop of her own juices trickled down the fur of her thigh.

"I should really ghhh," she tried again.

"Ghh-et your hair done? Fuck yeah we'll slut you up. Right through here," Maria said.

Maria pulled aside the sheet covering the doorway to the backroom. Rita wrapped an arm around Tiffany's back, pulling her into the room. A salon chair sat in the middle of the floor, and Rita pushed Tiffany down into it. Maria stepped in and fastened a belt around her waist and wrists.

"What...what the fuck is this?" Tiffany said. She wiggled her hips, but she could barely move.

"For your own safety, that's what!" Maria called over her shoulder. She grabbed two bottles from a shelf, which looked like re-used shampoo bottles with handwritten labels stuck on them. "Hey, Rita. Bitch or Skank?" she asked, wiggling each bottle in turn.

"Skank," Rita said with a nod.

Maria tossed the milky-white bottle back onto the shelf and squirted a glob of amber-colored oil onto her palms. Stepping behind Tiffany, she ran her hand through the ex-vixen's tightly-trimmed blonde hair. As the oil soaked in, each pass of Maria's claws drew more dark color from Tiffany's roots. Her chin-length bob was sliding down longer and thicker as Maria kneaded the oil in.

Tiffany squirmed against the belt, but it held her tight and she couldn't muster the strength to break free. Even if she could have, she was so light-headed that she couldn't have gotten far. Her aching pussy pulled all her thoughts down into her crotch. Her fight-or-flight response fought against how much she needed to get fucked.

Rita pressed a glass filled with a milky, slightly rubbery-smelling liquid to Tiffany's lips and tilted it up to force her to drink. Each gulp slid down her throat until it settled in her chest, filling her tits with new mass. Her top had already been a tight fit, and now it was squeezing against her ribs more and more with each gulp.

Maria's claws served as a comb, loosening the growing tangle of Tiffany's hair. Not only was it darker and longer, but it was curling up, like the oil was giving it volume and bounce. She tugged Tiffany's hair back away from her earrings, letting it spill down toward her shoulders instead.

With the glass of milky liquid tipped up high, the last drops slid down into Tiffany's mouth. Rita reached out and stuck her finger through the laces on Tiffany's top and tugged. They stretched outward, gaining plenty of slack—then went taut as soon as Rita let go. Tiffany's tits shoved out against the cups of her top, taking up all the slack. Lifted up and pushed out, they were heavy, but a bit too firm to be entirely natural.

Marie rinsed out Tiffany's hair, toweled it dry, and spruced it up with a hairbrush until its curls shimmered in the light. Then the two rats spun the chair around, turning Tiffany to face a full-length mirror propped against the wall. Staring back at her, strapped into the chair, was a gray-furred rat girl. She grimaced; her purple-painted lip glistened and she stared at her own enlarged incisors. Tiffany took in her new fashion, too: her big, heavy tits, squeezed into a tiny tube top; her abundant curves wrapped up in a tight miniskirt; wild, thick, curly black hair spilling down her shoulders.

Her earrings wobbled as her ears twitched. She looked like some kind of rat skank. And that was...bad. Very bad. She was supposed to look like a fox bitch, right? It was hard to keep everything straight when she needed to be fucked this bad. Her nose wrinkled, her teeth grit together, and then the words burst out of her:

"Let me go you fucking sluts! You're both dyke bitches and I hope you choke on a cock! Let me out or I'll gnaw your fucking tits off!"

Tiffany panted in the aftermath of her outburst. God damn it, and she had tried not to sound like a skank.

"Woah, someone needs to get fucking laid," Maria said. "Trust me, you're gonna feel way better once you do." She leaned in close, a wide grin on her face. Her hand slipped up between Tiffany's legs. Tiffany squeaked and clapped her thighs shut, but Maria's hand managed to snag the edge of her thong with a claw. She slid the damp red strip of fabric down around Tiffany's knees.

Maria stepped back and turned to Rita. "Hit it!"

Tiffany didn't even have time for another outburst. From within a cleft in the leather seat, hidden by the padding, a thick latex shaft sprung upward. Tiffany had been positioned just right so that as the shaft rose, the tip parted her folds and slipped inside of her. Her body had been so pent up that the sudden force, the jolt of being entered, popped in her head like a firework going off.

The motor underneath the chair made the whole thing shake and jiggle. Tubes hanging from the back of the chair swayed in time with the dildo's rhythm. Two small needles jabbed through the chair's padding, into the base of Tiffany's spine. The tubes hummed as their contents flowed directly into Tiffany's body.

Tiffany cried out. Her back arched and her heels dug into the chair's footrests. Each thrust from the shaft shook her bodily. Everything began to blur into a colorful haze as the drugs flooded her nervous system.

Her thoughts melted under the onslaught of the mechanical fucking. They were broken down, pulverized, and then came dripping out of her, leaking onto the now-slick shaft pumping in and out, in and out.

Her clothes strained at the seams. Her miniskirt rode up along her thick hips, leaving little if anything to the imagination. Her top stretched so tight across her chest that the peaks of her thick nipples were visible. Her mouth hung open, as if waiting for something to wrap her lips around.

"Yo, earth to Tina!" Maria shouted. Tiffany's eyes fluttered, unfocused, but her ears perked up.

"Hey, slut," Rita said, snapping her fingers as if to get her attention.

Tiffany groaned and wriggled.

"Skaaanky bitch."

"Cocksucking whore."

"Tina, sluttiest rat of them all."

Tiffany couldn't block out what they were saying, and with her mind a horny, scattered mess, the things they said were the most concrete things she had to hold onto. The words repeated in her head, forward and back, over and over, until they made more and more sense.

"Remember when Tina sucked off five guys at once?"

"Five? Shit, I saw her do a whole line of guys at the club that one time."

Tiffany's eyes were glazed over. Drool dripped from her lip. She was getting fucked and fucked and fucked over again. The mechanical thrusting made her feel like she was just some part of a big fuck machine. She bit her lip and lifted her hips and slammed back down against the chair. This fuck machine could go on forever and she'd love every minute of it.

But it was going to stop. Rita slowly turned down the machine's speed. Each thrust was just as forceful, but slower, allowing time for Tiffany's old thoughts to drain out and her new thoughts to fill in the blanks. Tiffany's hips curled up into the air. Her name was Tina. She was the slutty one, next to her friends Maria--the sexy one--and Rita--the butch one. As the shaft drew back, her juices ran down its sides, along with all that stuff like getting a degree and wanting to marry Jason.

Tina's body arched up into the air again. She and Maria and Rita were all roommates. And they'd all fucked, obviously. Her memories beyond that were vague, dreamlike, and invented—only the things that had stuck around from being Tiffany were still clear.

With one more thrust from the motorized shaft, Tina tipped over the edge. Muscles twisted, tail thrashed, head tossed back. The bright, wonderful, painful, white-hot, dripping-wet orgasm washed over her, washed around her, and washed her away. The rat girl slumped into the chair, out cold.

"Damn," Rita said, "Girl really is a slut."


"So then, I find out he's going out with this bitch named Jessica," Tina explained. She was sprawled out sideways on the counter with her legs spread, giving her pussy space to recover. You had to rest up after a session with Rita's Fuck Chair.

"So?" Maria asked.

"Yeah, that's what I was like, 'I don't give a fuck what your dick's doing when it's not in me.' But then he gets this attitude like he's too good for rat pussy now that he's got a girlfriend," Tina said.

"What, like he doesn't wanna fuck you now?"

Tina stuck out her studded tongue and rolled her eyes. "I'm fine with that. I'd be shit at my job if I got attached to every guy I fucked. Nah, he got all on about how rats are dirty trash."

Maria smirked and leaned in closer. "Y'know what would really piss him off?"


"Ohh, god!" Jennifer cried out.

Tina licked her lips as she sat up in the driver's seat of the car. She tossed her hair and clicked her tongue stud against her teeth.

"Told you," Tina said.

Jennifer felt tight inside her clothes after the best oral she'd ever had. It had been hot and fast and dirty, but the tongue stud and the spontaneity and the sheer wildness had swept her away. She stared up at the ceiling, panting, wondering if this meant she was bi now.

Tina grabbed the cougar girl and pulled her into another needy, desperate, hungry kiss. Her bare tail slipped up along Jennifer's inner thigh, wiggling its way up between her legs, while Tina pressed the prissy cougar back against the passenger seat of her car.

If Jason wanted to fuck with her, she'd fuck with his girlfriend. Breaking them up would be revenge enough, but maybe if she fucked the cougar's brains out hard enough, she'd be able to talk her into letting the girls give her a makeover.