It's tough having a sorceress for a girlfriend.
Take today. You woke up expecting a normal birthday. Instead, you found a girl looking back at you from the bathroom mirror. You'd be more upset if it wasn't your sort of thing. She knows you well, at least.
You spent long enough in front of the mirror to know pretty well what you look like now. As a guy, you had short, dark hair and a light build, and you're not far off as a girl. Aside from the newly-softened jaw and cheeks, you've still got short hair, though it reaches down to your cheeks now. You're still pretty much yourself, just switched around a little. You came up with "biceps to B-cups" and you thought that was amusing enough to remember.
It's not that weird, being a girl. Sure, you're lighter, and everything feels a bit bigger, and it feels like your clothes sit too close to your groin because there should be something there. But you weren't really a manly man, and you're not really a girly girl, so adjusting is pretty easy.
But you know your girlfriend, and she's not the kind to be content with just flipping a few chromosomes around. She's out at work today, though she promised to take you out once she gets off. When you came out of the bedroom, dressed in the smallest tee shirt and boxers you could dig up, you find three packages wrapped in colorful paper sitting on the kitchen table, along with a note.
And that's where you are now, finishing off your bowl of cereal, and pulling the note over in front of you to see what it says.
[[Read the note->Note]]//Hey sleepyhead!
Sorry that I couldn't get off work today, but I wanted you to be able to have a little fun before I get back. You've probably already noticed the first part of my present, but making you a girl is only step number one.
Step number two is right in front of you! Three presents, but you're only going to get two of them, so pick wisely. Also, pick wisely because whichever ones you pick, they're going to affect what kind of a girl you turn out to be. The first present's just going to start you off, while the second present you pick is going to take you the rest of the way, so yes, order matters!
I'll be back by five. Can't wait to see you.
[[Look at your gifts->Gifts]]While the thought of what Kris has planned for you makes you excited, you don't want to rush into this without giving it some thought first. You first put your cereal bowl in the sink, then sit down to take a look at the gifts on the table. They're all wrapped up in festive, glossy wrapping paper, with party hats and ribbons on a blue background, but you can still figure out what's in each of them.
The first one is shaped a bit like a bottle with a narrow cap. You pick it up and carefully shake it a bit, and hear a little gloop-gloop noise. Something liquid and viscous--you're betting it's some nail polish.
The second one is a small tube, which you roll around in your palm, feeling its weight. It seems like the same size and weight as the brand of lipstick that Kris likes to use. Makes sense that it would be lipsick.
The third one is flat, but patting around and squeezing it a bit, you can feel the shape of two slim earrings, hoops not more than an inch in diameter.
So, there you are, nail polish, lipsick, and earrings. You take a moment to consider each of them.
Your nails look nicer than usual, and they've grown a little bit, too. Painting your nails would definitely make you look more girly, and you'd have to be more careful not to chip them. Nothing wrong with looking girly, though--you are a girl for the moment, after all.
Your lips aren't that remarkable, and some lipstick would highlight them well. At the same time, they might give off a more flirty attitude than you want, especially if Kris went for some bright, slutty color (which she probably did.)
If you put on the earrings, you'd probably have to change clothes, and maybe dig out some of Kris's to find some that fit. They'd be too fancy to wear with an ill-fitting shirt and guy-underwear on. They would class up your look, though.
Before you pick, you also remember what Kris said in her note. Whatever your first pick is, it's not going to be quite as strong as your second pick.
[[Pick the girly nail polish->Nail Polish]]
[[Pick the slutty lipstick->Lipstick]]
[[Pick the classy earrings->Earrings]]You decide to pick the nail polish as your first gift. A little shiver runs along the back of your thighs as you tear open the paper. You don't know what's going to happen or when it'll start, but so far, everything feels the same. You set the wrapping paper aside and look at the bottle, filled with a solid pastel pink polish.
You haven't ever done this yourself, but you've seen Kris do her nails enough times to know the basics. You uncap the bottle, wipe the brush tips against the side, and then start with your left thumb and work across your hand. Each nail gets a smooth coat, brushed gently until it covers the whole surface.
After one hand, you switch, do the other, and then sit back, holding out your fingers to let them dry. You really should have grabbed something to listen to before painting your nails, as now you're stuck until they dry.
Just as you're getting a bit bored, though, a rush falls through the pit of your stomach. A squeak, higher and softer than your regular female voice, falls from your lips. You stand up from your seat, thinking you might need to lie down.
Longer hair brushes in front of your eyes, and the best you can do is to push it back with the back of your palm. It looks lighter, and it bounces around your shoulders as you look around at your body.
You find yourself really hoping that you look good. It's not something you usually think about, since you're pretty confident in your looks, but it's come welling up from somewhere inside you now. You want to make sure other people think you look pretty. Your nails are a half-inch long and smooth, glossy, gentle pink.
You make a soft 'ooh' as you reach your hand up to touch your chest. Your breasts are heavier and softer and sensitive enough that they feel like they're glowing underneath your bra. That's a new addition too. In fact, so is the soft slip you're wearing instead of a shirt and boxers.
Another sigh, a bit warmer, comes as the hem of your slip rides up your wider hips. A pair of panties now, too, rubbing against your softening rear.
You pop back into the bathroom, because you need to get a bearing on your face. You look into your own blue eyes, with honey blonde hair falling down to your shoulders, with your cheeks and nose softened as if by airbrush. Who wouldn't like a pretty face like that, you think as you pout your lips a little, then toss your hair and give yourself a loving gaze.
You fight an urge to go outside and show off a bit. You want to see people's reactions to your looks and feel their eyes on you, a beautiful woman, but you stop yourself. There's still one more of Kris's presents to unwrap.
Earrings would match your new hair wonderfully, and in a slip like this, you could even pull off a pin-up sort of look. You'd be gorgeous, no doubt. But if you want attention, some bright lipstick plus your nails plus everything else would draw every eye in the room toward you.
[[Pick the slutty lipstick->Nail Polish and Lipstick]]
[[Pick the classy earrings->Nail Polish and Earrings]]You decide to pick the lipstick as your first gift. A little shiver runs along the back of your thighs as you tear open the paper. You don't know what's going to happen or when it'll start, but so far, everything feels the same. You set the wrapping paper aside and uncap the tube, looking at the rich red lipstick inside.
You take the tube into the bathroom with you, then lean forward toward the mirror. Your feminine face is still a little strange to see, even if you've gotten familiar with its shape and proportions. You smile at your reflection, and it's the same as your regular smile. All right, let's get down to lipstick.
You don't really know how the best way to put on lipstick is, but you give it your best shot, opening your mouth and curling your lips into an 'O' like you're putting on lip balm. You roll the lipstick tube around your lips, then close your mouth and pout your lips. They look a little uneven, so you purse your lips and rub them together. Then, wiping a little red off of where it shouldn't be, you stand up straight and look at your face in the mirror.
Before you have time to study your face, though, a spark courses up your thighs and you bend forward and moan. It comes out softer and huskier than you expected it to. You raise a hand to your throat and look up into the mirror. Your lips look more plush and soft, and it's not just the gloss of the lipstick doing it.
A warm tremble shakes you and you grip the counter. You feel new kinds of heat inside you, but you know what this is even if it's a different sensation. You're getting aroused.
You fan yourself with your hands, trying to drive some of the blush off your cheeks, though you notice that there's already a subtle puff of red there to accentuate your cheeks. Looking yourself in the eyes, you can't help but notice the dash of eyeliner that makes your gaze more striking and magnetic. It's almost hard to look away from your face and your plump lips.
A moan rises from deep in your throat as your chest presses forward. Your thighs press together as you reach up to grab it, and find not the shirt you were wearing, but a tank top, braless, with your nipples denting the fabric. Your breasts used to be modest, but now they overflow your spread fingers if you try to cup them in your hands.
The aching, shifting feeling around your hips feels as if it's being spurred by the heat between your legs. You raise one foot, legs together, holding onto the counter. What were boxers are now snug shorts, clinging to your wide hips and perky ass. A hot sigh leaves your mouth, and you look in the mirror again at your puffed pout and green eyes and shoulder-length, sunny-red hair.
You'd like to take a break, sit down in front of the computer, and blow off some of this steam you've built up, but you might as well finish Kris's presents first. Her next present's probably going to get you even more worked up.
You're very aware of how your body shifts and wobbles as you walk back to the kitchen table, and look over the two gifts you have to pick from.
[[Pick the girly nail polish->Lipstick and Nail Polish]]
[[Pick the classy earrings->Lipstick and Earrings]]
You decide to pick the earrings as your first gift. A little shiver runs along the back of your thighs as you tear open the paper. You don't know what's going to happen or when it'll start, but so far, everything feels the same. You set the wrapping paper aside and slide out the pair of small, silver hoop earrings.
You realize you haven't ever had your ears pierced, but luckily, Kris thought ahead. As you return to the bathroom to try on the earrings, you see that there's a small hole, neatly positioned in the middle of each of your earlobes.
You slip the earrings through your ears and let them settle onto the sides of your cheeks. You wait a moment, then shake your head from side to side. The earrings stay on, despite swinging back and forth.
Your playfulness is interrupted by a sudden tingling running up your spine, like a chill without the discomfort. You straighten up and take a deep breath, working a little tremor out of your arms by stretching. The prickling, like anticipation, rises up to your shoulders.
Your chest swells forward against your shirt. You grab the hem, pulling downward at the same time as you curl your chest forward. All of a sudden, the cloth is no longer in your hands, and your chest feels bare. Your eyes snap down to look between your own breasts and your reflection, finding that now, you're wearing a lacy and lavish low-rise bra. The way your breasts rise up into the cups is almost picturesque, these big, hand-filling swells that surge out from your ribs and them smoothly slide up your shoulders. They definitely weren't that big before.
As you step out of the bathroom, your fingers slide along the hem of the new panties you're wearing, replacing the boxers you'd put on after waking up. They hug your hips and ass tightly--which are swelling up beneath your fingers, broader, thicker, more suited for grabbing onto.
Your apartment seems bigger than before, or maybe it's just that the usual mess is gone and it's easier to see the hardwood floors and granite countertops. You find yourself stopping in front of the fridge, because you can see your reflection in the polished black doors.
It looks as if you've been to a salon recently, with your impeccably straight hair steeped to a pale blonde, and your neatly arched eyebrows that make you look just a little surprised. You pout for your reflection, raising a hand to your cheek and turning your face to the side.
You feel like a million dollars. And you're not just saying that, you feel like you could make some money off your looks. You've got a great chin, beautiful cheeks, well-exfoliated skin, and a great body packed into that lingerie. Plus, just a quick look around your apartment shows how much nicer it's gotten. If you had some more money, maybe you could buy even nicer things--nicer clothes, better furniture, more expensive spa visits, trips to the plastic surgeon...
You shake your head to bring yourself out of those thoughts and stroke your hair affectionately. As you walk back to the kitchen table, your earrings shimmer in the light. Time to pick out which one of Kris's remaining gifts you want.
[[Pick the girly nail polish->Earrings and Nail Polish]]
[[Pick the slutty lipstick->Earrings and Lipstick]]By now, your nails are dry enough that you don't have to avoid touching things. You dig into the wrapping paper around the lipstick tube and tear it open, then eagerly uncap it to find out what color it is. To your delight, it's a flashy, bright pink that's definitely going to get people looking at you. With a small //pff// of smoke, the earrings vanish.
As you head into the bathroom to use the mirror, you notice that you're walking with a swing in your hips, a little strut as you cross the floor. You put one hand on your hips, then giggle to yourself. Your voice doesn't sound like it used to, but that's fine. You're more eager to explore what your girlfriend has in store for you than scared of this new experience.
On your tiptoes, you lean into the mirror, open your mouth, and curl your lips. The lipstick rolls across your lips, leaving a warm pink behind. You press your lips together, then part them with a loud //pop//.
Just as you're admiring how even and glossy the lipstick is, a flush of heat rises up the back of your legs, and you have to catch yourself by grabbing the counter as your knees go weak. For a moment you're confused, not sure where the sudden pulsing feeling is coming from or what it means, until the realization dawns on you that you feel suddenly and intensely horny.
You bite your lip as a way to keep from crying out, but your teeth sink into a more puffy, cushioned lip than you were expecting. You look back into the mirror, seeing a pink pout slowly swelling up in front of your face, pulling your lips outward as they grow in size and volume. You can feel the corners of your mouth squeezing a little, as your swelling lips spread. What a pout, you think, running your nails lightly along the edges of your tender lips.
And that brings your attention to your nails. They weren't sparkling before, nor were they an inch long. You gasp in surprise, though you can't deny that they look pretty and flashy. Any kind of writing or texting or using remotes is gonna be hard as long as you've got these nails, though.
You grasp your chest as your nipples start to stick out against the slip you're wearing. You fight to keep from moaning, but this time you can't, and just from hearing yourself, you feel excited. They're growing outward, bigger, heavier, and yet firmer. You give them a squeeze, and they don't squish quite as much as they did before. Now, they're boldly shoving your nightgown away from your chest, demanding space.
You stumble back from the counter with a pair of clicks. On your feet are clear, sparkly heels, jacking your heels high into the air and keeping your toes elevated up on platforms. Replacing the nightgown, you've now got a white pair of skintight booty shorts on, along with a snug white tank top that glitters in the light.
As you lean back toward your reflection, one foot rises onto the tip of its platform heel, one leg bent, your ass stuck up into the air. You've got makeup you don't remember putting on, bright eyeshadow and heavy eyeliner. Your hair is pulled back into a pair of pigtails, angled up above your head and dangling down far enough to tickle your neck.
You look //so// good, you think to yourself, one hand splayed across the open neckline of your tank top, keeping your breasts from swinging forward and bumping you in the chin. You're just far enough over the top to really stop people and catch their attention, while not taking it too far. Anyone would agree that you're hot, but people don't see a girl like yourself every day.
You're still so worked up, though. You can see it in your nipples, which catch the light and shimmer through your top. You don't have to see it to feel the throbbing between your legs, though. You need to work some of this off, and so your platform-heeled feet lead you, almost automatically, to the living room.
With a long nail, you hit 'play' on your speakers, and a thumping club rhythm pours out into the room. You grab the stripper pole in the middle o fthe living room and slowly turn around it, getting used to the beat. And then, you pull yourself up and start twisting around the pole, feeling it growing warm from the heat of your body. You show off to the audience that isn't there, stretching your tank top by squeezing your breasts around the pole, or running your nails along the hem of your shorts, as if ready to slip them off.
Before long, you peel off your top, then your shorts, and curl around the pole completely nude. All that's on your mind is making it to work at the club tonight and how much you're going to enjoy your part of the show. The CD ends, and you climb off the pole, slide your clothes back on, and practically pass out on the couch, dreaming of the kind of attention you'll be getting at the strip club tonight.
[[Tonight->Kris and the Stripper]]By now, your nails are dry enough that you don't have to avoid touching things. You dig into the wrapping paper around the earrings and tear it open, then slide out the pastel pink plastic hoops. How great, these even match your lipstick. With a small //pff// of smoke, the lipstick vanishes.
As you carry the earrings back to the bathroom so you can put them in, you reach up and feel your ears. They've already been pierced, which wasn't the case the last time you checked. That's not bad though, because it means you don't have to wait to put these on.
You stand in the bathroom, leaning over the counter and looking at your ear as you guide one earring in, and then the other. You then stand up straight and fluff your hair a little, just to see how your earrings still stand out with your blonde locks around them. They look nice, even a little old fashioned, but very pretty, you think.
You shiver as a tingle rises up your spine, not like a chill, but like the rush of excitement. A soft //ooh// slips out of your throat as you feel a rising sensation running up through your body. You open your eyes and look at yourself in the mirror, then reach up to feel your face. Your cheekbones are smoother, your lips more naturally plump. You look not quite older, but more mature, in a way. Maybe it's the hints of light makeup, dashed on in a subtle way to keep from looking dressed up.
You love the look, though, and your skin has never been clearer. Your hair tidies itself up, as if it's been carefully brushed. All the curls fall in line, pulled back from your face and pinned in place, making a curled sweep of hair rising up from your forehead, and falling down in carefully fashioned waves down over your shoulders. You push your hand up through the honey locks, and they flow like silk around your fingers.
A light moan rises into your throat, but you muffle it, trying to stay polite. The way your legs are tingling feels amazing, and they're so sensitive you just have to reach down and rub your hands along them. When you do, you find your fingers grazing along smooth nylon leggings. The texture alone is enough to enjoy for a moment, but then you also take in the new thickness of your thighs and hips. They're so thick and squeezable that you end up doing a bit of groping yourself, reaching around your hips and grabbing, then pushing your hands together as tight as you can.
As you straighten up, you can feel the weight of your breasts hanging below you. They're certainly larger than they were before, and feeling even heavier, too. As you cup them and pull them up underneath the slip, the thought of milk crosses your mind, and you almost immediately blush. My, that's a dirty thought, but it's a fun one that's now sitting in the back of your mind.
Your nightgown is barely enough to fit you now, but in a few blinks, the ill-fitting fabric shifts and grows. First, you find a skirt falling down to your knees, ruffled enough to allow space for your legs to move and the skirt to swish, while snug enough at the waist to show off your figure. Then, the upper part of the slip grows, giving you more coverage, though still a low neckline. Your slip had grown entirely into a black polka dot dress matched with a black blouse.
And now, you feel the tingle of fabric beneath your new clothes. A garter to hold your stockings and a pair of panties to wrap your thick waist, then a bra, heaving your breasts up, letting them sit proudly atop your chest and causing them to squeeze gently against the neckline of your dress. Your long-nailed fingers dance across the neckline of the dress, but you decide against adjusting it. A lady should show something off, right?
Taking one last look in the mirror, you smile at yourself, a gorgeous pin-up model right out of the pages of an old magazine. It's work to keep up looking like this, but you tell yourself that any proper lady's first job should be taking care of herself.
Your solid, polished red heels click on the floor as you walk into the kitchen with a mincing sway in your shoulders. Kris did say she would be doing osmething for your birthday, but if you have to spend all day waiting at home, you might as well get down to cooking.
Humming softly to yourself, you slip on a white apron and immediately get to work baking a cake. It only uses up about a half-hour of your time before it's off in the oven to cook, though. For a moment, you look disappointed, before you survey the state of the apartment. A smile coming back to your face, you drag out the vacuum to keep yourself busy until Kris is home.
[[Tonight->Kris and the Homemaker]]You make your decision quickly, so that you can deal with your aching need faster. As you grab the bottle of nail polish, the last remaining present disappears with a soft //pff// of smoke. You peel back the paper and pull out the nail polish bottle, admiring the bright pink shade inside.
There's no way you're going to be able to sit still while your nails dry and do nothing at all, so you get up and turn on the kitchen radio. While the host rattles on about their sponsors, you sit back down, uncapping the nail polish, and get right to work.
You thought it would be harder to do your nails, but in fact, your hands seem to know just what to do, breezing through the application and leaving your nails wet, glossy and pink, like they were just done professionally. You pout to yourself and tap the pads of your fingers against the table, then lean over to blow on your fingers. Come on, dry faster.
And then suddenly you feel unsteady, like you're in a car that just hit the gas and your stomach's clenching up. Your heart beats echo loud in your head. But then you hear the music coming from the radio, and a smile crosses your painted lips. It's a pop song, all sugary and bubblegum, sung by some perky-voiced celebrity, and you love it. And you're singing along to it.
As you get more of the rhythm, you start cocking your head from side to side as you sing in time, wiggling in your chair like you'd rather get up and do some dance moves, but you want to be careful with your nails still.
You feel like you left your brain behind somewhere and you're speeding away right now, so caught up in the momentum that it doesn't matter how fuzzy your thoughts are. Your breasts bounce as you sing, an extra jiggle added to every motion your shoulders make. The more you move around, the better your breasts feel, more sensitive, nipples stiffer and perkier. Your thighs and knees are pushed tight together while your ass wiggles in the chair.
Your growing hair bounces around as you move, and you catch sight of its new, lighter, nearly-blonde color. At least you're still basically a redhead though, and not a dumb blonde. You smile and giggle to yourself, shaking out your hair a little, letting it dance down around your shoulders and breasts in its silky curls.
Spreading your nails, you gasp, 'Oh my god,' and your voice is sugary and squeaky, but you don't mind that much. Your voice is cute, and what you're surprised about is your nails, now doubled in length, sparkling and pink.
That's it, you have to get up and get a good look at yourself. You stand up on a pair of pink wedge sandals, swishing your hips playfully, hands raised as you head back to the bathroom.
You absolutely can't get enough of your boobs, and the tube top that wraps around them now is only helping, bright and flashy with a sequin-studded crown shape in the middle. But your breasts themselves are even better, soft to the touch but perky in a gravity-defying sort of way, sagging less than they should have, jutting out proudly even when you aren't trying to show them off.
Glancing over your shoulder, you can see the snug miniskirt clinging to your ass and thighs, showing off your cute, thicker ass, though it's not quite as flashy as your top. You know where you want everyone to be looking though: right at your chest.
Even if you want everyone looking at your boobs though, your face is really pretty too. Your lush lips have parted slightly in the center, while your green eyes are so light and the eyeliner and mascara you wear so striking and sharp that you look as if you've got a permanently astonished look, like you're just too overwhelmed to understand everything.
To be fair, you are kinda overwhelmed and letting all of these changes just wash over you. You prod your lips with a finger and nearly end up starting to suck on it before remembering your fresh nail polish. You'd try to make some guess about how big your breasts are, but you've kinda forgotten how the sizes go. They're definitely at least as wide across as your hips, though, and big, round, gently sagging orbs only held back by that strip of fabric.
Plastic bracelets jingle on your wrists as you walk, wide-eyed and pouty, out into your room, then daintily sit yourself down in front of your computer. Your legs sort of fall open naturally, and you bat your thick eyelashes at the screen, then say, 'Turn on!' You try 'Computer, turn on', and 'Activate', and even 'Ohmigod, I just wanna look at //porrrn//," but the computer doesn't respond to anything.
You huff, pout, then get up to your feet, looking around the room with your vacant expression, trying to think as hard as you can about where Kris might have stashed a dildo, or anything at all you could use to get off.
It's going to be a long day until Kris gets back.
[[Tonight->Kris and the Bimbo]]You make your decision quickly, so that you can deal with your aching need faster. As you grab the earrings, the last remaining present disappears with a soft //pff// of smoke. You peel back the paper and pull out the earrings, holding them in the palm of your hand. The gold hoops glint invitingly.
You look them over briefly, admiring how their simple construction makes them understated, but still expensive-looking. They say, 'look at me, I can spend money on these earrings and afford for them not to be flashy'.
You're so distracted, between how pretty the earrings look and your general excited state, that you don't think about the fact that your ears aren't pierced. You only think about it once you've already got one of the earrings hanging in your ear, and at that point, you just have to smile and shrug. Kris thought of everything.
With both earrings in, you touch them to make sure they're straight, before a prickling feeling sweeps up the backs of your legs and up along your spine, making you shudder and clench your legs together more tightly.
But it's not an orgasm sweeping over you, it's more changes. You realize that as you start to feel a tingle in your lips, a swelling sort of pressure inside them, making them puff outwards even more. By the time you reach up to feel their shape, you can tell how they've been carefully sculpted, tapering at the corners and rounded in the middle, to avoid a big, puffy, overstuffed sort of look. They're big, yes, and they don't quite look //natural//, but they don't look extreme. And you bet they make the red gloss lipstick look fantastic.
As you rise to your feet, you realize two things: first, the floor is pristinely varnished hardwood, and second, you're wearing a pair of emerald green stiletto heels. You walk carefully, but with an elegant sort of grace, into your larger bathroom.
No time to focus on the expensive jacuzzi, though. You turn and pout at the mirror and nearly fall in love with yourself. Your eyeliner and eyeshadow has darkened, making your look even duskier and more smouldering. With your eyelids lowered, you tilt your head and frown at the mirror, though your thick lips make it mostly look like you're still pouting.
Your hair is a richer red, and the longer you stand in front of the mirror, the more it seems to want to curl, rising up thicker but never unruly, and spilling over your shoulders and down your back. You run your fingers over your jawline, looking at your stronger cheekbones and more elegant features. Experimentally, you toss your hair, trying to mess it up as much as possible, but all you manage to do is set a single strand out of place, draping gently against the tip of your nose.
A husky moan falls out of you as you feel yourself swelling up beneath your clothes. Both your skin and the fabric are shifting, forming into new shapes, swelling out in new ways. As your breasts grow, you know you can feel a certain firmness atop your chest, but at the same time, you know that these implants cost quite a bit, and they're much more natural than some cheap stripper boob job. You roll your fingers down the swelling curve of one of your breasts, then brush your fingertips over your stiff nipple.
Below your chest, you can feel the effects of liposuction helping to pinch in your waist, and further down, the thickening of your hips as they swell out broader, more shapely, drawing the eye up from your shining heels to your salacious hips.
The fabric of your tank top and shorts have merged together, forming a revealing dress--two strips of fabric rising up the front, wrapping over your breasts, and meeting behind your neck, joined at the bottom to a skirt that wraps around your hips and reaches just barely low enough to cover your groin. The whole dress is in a beautiful green that matches the long, mid-upper-arm-length velvet gloves you're now wearing.
You watch the red-haired, emerald-clad beauty in the mirror raise her arms up behind her head, toss her hair, and purr loudly. Your voice is sweet and sultry, and even you like to hear it as much as possible. Just think how much other people will want to listen as you flirt with them.
You bite your lip at the thought, because now as you think about sliding up to a rich businessman or glamorous celebrity and laying the seduction on them hard, your body's arousal rises back to the top of your mind. You're still horny, and now your standards are much, much higher than they were before.
With a pout on your lips and a catwalk strut in your hips, you click your way out to the marble countertops in the kitchen, pour yourself a tall glass of wine, and light up a cigarette. You reach into the dildo cabinet and pluck one out to use, then strip down naked and climb into the jacuzzi. This will hold you off for now, at least. You sigh as the water rises up around you and you dip your hand beneath the water.
Kris had better come back soon and sex had better be part of her plan, or else you're going to explode.
[[Tonight->Kris and the Socialite]]You grab the nail polish from the table, and as you start to tear the paper open, the last present left vanishes in a //pff// of smoke. You pull the bottle free of the paper, and take a moment to look at the glossy, vivid pink goop inside.
Since you want something to do while your nails dry, you pick up the polish and walk over to the large sofa, taking a seat in front of your top-of-the-line TV. You're really starting to enjoy the more upscale apartment, even if it's likely going back to normal soon. A touch of the remote, and the TV pops on.
You uncap the bottle and carefully lay out your fingers, drawing the brush across your nails to coat them with a smooth, uniform coat of pink. You wiggle your fingers a little bit and blow on them, then sit back a bit, turning your attention to the TV.
The channel it's flipped to is showing a reality show, of the rich-girl-drama genre. Shots of expensive houses, women making shocked reactions for the camera, the works.
You're just about to change the channel, carefully using the pad of your finger to push the button, when a sudden, vertigo-like dizziness hits you, and the best you can do is sit back and flutter your eyelids to try to keep your eyes focused.
As you sit up, you feel fuzzier, less sure of yourself. Your attention drifts back to the TV, and you start to feel a little jealous of these girls. Not because their place is better than yours, but because they're getting paid for acting all bitchy and having people film them. That's the sorta stuff you need to get into, you think. You'll call your agent about that.
You giggle to yourself. The thought of having an agent is a little funny, even if it almost feels natural to your new self. Pink thong flipflops materialize around your feet as you stand up from the couch and look out the window--which, instead of showing the adjacent brick apartment building, now has a view of blue skies and palm trees.
It feels like your head is further and further away from your actual body, like you're trying to yell instructions to yourself and they're not really getting there. Gawd, you feel like a bit of a ditz, huh? You would laugh at your own lightheadedness again, but a tingling pleasure starts to swell up inside your chest, and instead you make an excited gasp and cup your breasts.
You get to feel them growing right out into your hands, your boobs pushing bigger and heavier, your skin hot and tender. They swell naturally, until they reach the limit of what nature can do, and then they start swelling with silicone. Of course you bought them, you have to look good in a bikini!
You start walking toward the window in your wedge-flipflops, pink with bamboo-style insoles. You hold your arms down, wrists bent, fingers spread--both to keep your nails drying, and because the effeminate gesture comes naturally to you.
By now your boobs bounce with each step, threatening to bounce right out of your bra, and perhaps a bit too big to look wholly natural. You're rich, no one tells you when's the best time to stop buying implants! The evidence of that money isn't just on your chest, either. You can feel it in your puffy lips, and your delicate nose, and extravagantly exfoliated skin.
And speaking of skin, your skin lights up with warmth like you're getting a long day of suntanning all in the span of a minute. Your fair skin grows richer, darker, a pleasantly golden tan that makes your hair, now bleached to a platinum blonde, stand out even more.
By the time you've reached the window, it's no longer a window, but a sliding door, and you push it open to step out into the backyard of your Malibu house. As the warm sun hits you, you look down at what should be the lingerie you were wearing, but is now instead a banana-yellow-and-pink bikini. Her big gold hoop earrings shimmer in the sun, while she flips on her pink-framed, large-lensed sunglasses.
It's just like, //so// sunny outside that you just have to do some tanning. After walking across the backyard to your pool, you lean back into the pool chair and open up the little cabinet nearby to pull out a bottle of slick suntan lotion. You splash it on your chest and rub it in, then work down your stomach and legs, and over your ass, enjoying your well-designed curves.
With your body oiled up and glistening in the sun, you toss your hair, then set the suntan lotion away. You lie back on the pool chair, letting your breasts settle on top of your chest--nearly squeezing out around the straps of the bikini, and coming up rather close to your chin the way they sat, like overstuffed water balloons.
Being hot, rich, and a model is great, but you could always be richer, and being richer means more surgery and salon trips to look hotter.
You pull out the tablet that stays in the same cabinet as the sunblock, and turn it on to keep watching the show about rich-girl-drama. Like, so relatable, right? Though really, you're watching it so you can sound like not a total bimbo when you talk to your agent about doing something like that.
Actually, now you're wondering more about asking your agent if you can do a sex tape scandal thing with the brunette with the biggest boobs. It'd be super hot, //and// make a lot of money. You giggle to yourself, clicking your long pink nails against the screen, pausing the show right during a shot of the brunette's chest from the side. You're not going to have any problems entertaining yourself until Kris comes back.
[[Tonight->Kris and the Model]]You grab the lipstick from the table, and as you start to tear the paper open, the last present left vanishes in a //pff// of smoke. You peel the wrapping paper off of the tube and pop it open to find a rich crimson red inside. That's going to look really nice on your lips.
You don't even need to go back to the bathroom to look at your reflection. You could even do it on the countertops, but that would require an odd angle, so instead you stand in front of the fridge, looking at your reflection as you roll the lipstick around your lips, then make a little pop to ensure an even coat.
You cap the lipstick with a smile and turn away from the fridge, ready to go back to thinking about all the improvements you could make with a little bit of money. You get about two steps, though, before heat rises up through you, swirling from your toes to your head and then settling down right in the pit of your stomach.
You reach out for the nearest thing to catch yourself and grab the counter. Your thighs ache and you press them together to ease some of the throbbing that's pounding through your body. A wet moan slides out of your mouth as your eyelids flutter. Wobbly-kneed and hazy-headed, you stumble towards the bathroom, where you'll be able to figure out what's going on.
The bathroom is a bit too far, though, and you find yourself toppling over onto your bed instead. Not that that's a problem; your bed is soft, your sheets are freshly washed, and you're free to squirm and gasp here all you want.
You brush your straight hair back out of your face and try to lay back and breathe smoothly. You're so horny that you're having trouble concentrating, but you just need to calm down.
It's hard to calm down when you realize your chest is growing again, though. At first, the lingerie bra stretches around the swelling mounds, making them squeeze out of the cups at the edges, but then with a shift of thread, the top of the cups drops lower, but the cups themselves swell out further, able to better hold your growing assets.
You lift up your legs, bending your knees and putting your feet flat on the bed. You reach down and can feel the sheer stockings rising up your legs, smoothing them out impeccably, and clipping up onto the garter running across your waist. The ache between your legs is so hot that it's radiating outward, pushing against your hips, giving you the sot of figure that's going to draw attention whenever you bend forward or shake your ass even a little.
For a moment, your vision swims, and then you see clearly again, through a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. You pluck them off your face, and though you can see without them, you can tell you need these for reading. You don't want to lose them, so you set your glasses back on your face and run your hand along your cheek, down to your lips.
A hot gasp leaves your mouth as your fingers brush your lips, and suddenly, you've got two fingers in your mouth, lips curled around them, sucking to make a tight seal. They're tender to the touch, and plump and puffy enough to make your mouth rest in a parted red 'O' unless you make a conscious effort to close your mouth.
With a groan, you pull your fingers free and reach down toward your legs, hand headed toward your groin, when your fingers hit taut fabric instead. Raising your head, looking over your heavy chest, you can see the black pencil skirt that has filled in on top of your panties. As you fall back with a deep sigh, your breasts bounce upward, held back by your bra, but also by the nearly-translucent white blouse you're wearing on top of your red lingerie.
Now that the initial rush is wearing off, you're still aching for something inside you, but you feel like you can stand up, at least. You push yourself off the bed and come up onto a pair of black stiletto heels, keeping your heels high in the air to ensure your legs look delicious.
Your feet set you down in front of your computer desk, and you plop down onto your soft ass, sitting up straight, your thick lips pursed as much as they'll agree to press together. You expect to have your hair falling around all over the place, but you reach back to find that it's been tied up into a large but tidy bun, twisted in a time-consuming but elegant and professional fashion.
You adjust your glasses, fan your face a little, and check your reflection in the mirror. You look good--even with your glasses on, your pale eyeshadow shows through, and your eyeliner matches the style of the frames well. You look gorgeous, and ready for work. Speaking of which, you were going to take this day off, but there's an email here from your boss, saying it's urgent and he needs you in to work this afternoon.
There goes your relief, you think, but it's not as if getting off during work is something that you've never done. Hell, you've even hooked up with other people while at work. How else are you going to get to that delicious executive position if you're not using your body any way you can?
As you step into the elevator, purse slung over your shoulder, you look at your reflection in the polished doors and smile. Nearly bulging out of your blouse and pencil skirt, you look like absolute sex poured into a business dress code and set free to slut it up. You've got the proportions of a porn star and you're working as a secretary, and it couldn't be more fun.
'Hey, Kris, it's me,' you purr into your phone on the way to the car. 'The boss called me in, so come pick me up at work instead of the apartment. See you soon."
[[Tonight->Kris and the Secretary]]
You come out on stage, strutting, bathed in light. Unlike usual, the club is almost empty, except for the one person sitting right in front of the pole.
The music pounds around you, digging deep into the floor. You grab the pole and lift yourself up and start to curl, twisting, sliding, grinding, following the slow and even beat.
Your tank top comes off after a minute, freeing your breasts, and soon, you step back for a moment, curling your shorts down off your thick ass, and giving them a gentle kick into the lap of the one audience member.
As you slide down from the pole, you move onto your hands and knees, crawling to the very end of the stage. Your breasts hang below you, all the lights are on you, and Kris leans forward to kiss your lips.
She says something that might be 'happy birthday' and you smile. She doesn't have to say it, not after everything that's happened today.
You toss back your blonde hair, rising up with your tits thrust out and your stripper heel planted on the arm of Kris's chair. Time for her personal lapdance, your little way of thanking her for one hell of a day.
[[End.->End]]Your over-filled, pouty lips hang open as you lie sprawled over the back of the couch. How did you even get here? You're pretty sure you and Kris started in the bedroom this time, but your numb, fuzzy brain gets even hazier when you start having sex.
You push back some thick strawberry blonde curls, combing them back into your long, totally redheaded and not at all blonde mane. You're like, so glad you're not a dumb blonde. You can't help but giggle a little at the thought.
"Spending the night in was a good idea," Kris says, breathing deeply, laying across the couch cushions. She still hadn't quite caught her breath again.
"You think like, maybe we can keep this going tomorrow too? Not the fucking, but I so wanna go shopping and stuff," you say, letting the words gush out without much thinking. You don't have a lot of thinking to spare. You do have boobs, though, and while you sit there, your hands have migrated to your breasts and are starting to massage them.
"Mm. Maybe," Kris says, like she's not sure how much insatiable bimbo she can handle.
"It super sucks that you didn't grow a cock or whatever, cause I'm totally all cock-sucky oral whatever stuff right now," you say, then giggle, because even you know you sounded dumb right there.
A look of realization dawns on Kris's face and she sits up. "Give me a minute," she tells you. You smile, grope your boobs again, and moan, eyelids fluttering.
You smile at the young, tuxedoed CEO. His eyes are aimed right at your chest, but he's got a great head of hair, and he's rich enough that it wouldn't be embarassing to have sex with him. You pout, toss your hair a little bit, and let the red locks tumble over your chest.
"I could listen to you talk about technologies for hours, Michael," you say, looking into his eyes until he looks back at you. "But maybe we should move it somewhere else? I'd love to talk just one-on-one." You put your hand on his chest.
The Kris drapes an arm around you and gently pries you away. "Excuse me," she says, "I just need to talk with my good friend for a moment."
"I was just getting somewhere with him," you say, a small frown across your ruby lips. You're not really that upset, though. Your gloved hands slide up along Kris's arms and grip her shoulders.
"Thank you for this," you say. Kris looks beautiful in her evening dress, though not quite as beautiful as you. You lean in and kiss her, and feel her pressing back against you.
[[End.->End]]You nod up at your boss as he describes what he needs from you tomorrow. It's three past five, but instead of looking annoyed, you've got a sultry pout on your face. His eyes are dipping down to your breasts every so often, just the way you want them to.
As he talks, you lean your shoulders back and push your chest forward, stretching those tight, full mounds against the front of your blouse. A button pops off and hits him right in the chest. He stumbles over his words, looking unmistakably down into your cleavage.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you say, reaching down and plucking the button off of your desk where it landed. "I can fix this up right away. I don't want to walk around with a damaged blouse," you say.
Your boss clears his throat while you fumble with the button, pulling at the neckline of your blouse, making the perfect curve of your breasts jiggle the more you mess with it.
"Don't worry about it," he says.
The door to your office opens, and Kris steps in, still dressed in her own office clothes. She looks as pretty as ever, though she's not quite sex on heels like you are.
"That's my ride," you say, standing up, rolling your hips as you walk out to meet Kris. You let one hand fall on Kris's chest as you wrap the other around her shoulder, then press your plump lips to hers and kiss her deeply. You can feel the jealousy coming from your boss as you part the kiss and walk out arm in arm with Kris.
"Happy birthday," Kris says into your ear, squeezing your ass as you step into the elevator.
[[End.->End]]You lift the roast out of the oven and bring it over to the table. Kris's eyes widen as she looks from the spread, which includes sweet potato casserole, stuffing, carved ham, the roast you just brought out, two pies, and a birthday cake.
"You know, I was planning to take you to a restaurant, but letting this all go to waste would be a shame," she says.
You laugh, shrug, and gently kick the oven closed with the heel of your shoe. Off come the oven mitts and apron, and you sit down, sweeping your dress out from underneath you.
"I had a lot of free time, sweetie. I'd feel bad if I hadn't made something!" you say.
"When you go housewife, you go all the way," Kris teases you.
You say, "It just comes naturally to me, honey."
Her hand is on top of yours. You blush, but lean in as she leans across the table, and you share a kiss.
[[End.->End]]You're laying flat on your stomach at a beachside spa. Since your breasts are so big, you've got several pillows underneath your head and shoulders, to keep from squashing them against the massage table.
You let out little coos as the quiet masseuse works her hands over your body, kneading all the little bits of tension out of your thick curves, soothing some of the tightness in your back that you get from hauling around your heavy boobs.
"Oh. Mygawwd," you drawl, turning your head sideways to look at Kris, laying on the massage table next to you. She lifts her head and sets it down on her arms, crossed underneath her chin.
"This spa trip is like, the best birthday present everrr," you tell Kris, wiggling your shoulders a little. The masseuse takes the hint and keeps kneading your shoulders, soothing those tired back muscles.
Kris gives you a relaxed smile. "Remember, that's not the only present I gave you this year."
You fall into a dumb, sparkly-eyed stare as you try to think what Kris means.
"Transforming you?" she reminds you.
"Oh, duh! Yeah, that's the best birthday present ever," you say, with a giggle.
"Yeah, well, happy birthday," Kris says, then smiles and closes her eyes again.
[[End.->End]]''A Message from the Author''
Thanks for playing through my game! It's the first one I've ever finished, and phew, was it a lot of writing.
If you want to read more of my TF writing, check out <a href="http://www.kotep.xyz">my site</a>, and if you liked this game, you'll probably like <a href="http://kotep.xyz/post/bxbi-1/">BXBI</a>, my two-part story about a couple's consensual bimbo transformation.
[[Play again from the first choice->Gifts]]
<sup style="font-size:0.6em">Happy birthday, BSB!</sup>