A Mirror For Fantasy Wife Universe

One guy sees what's going on and rushed home to his girlfriend to try and stop her from seeing it. But he's too late. She's been staring at her screen for over an hour, and her shirt is torn to shreds.

Cody rushed home, traffic lights be damned.

The seatbelt nearly strangled him as he leapt from his car, swearing as he fought to get it unbuckled.

Every passing second pounded in his head. The frantic jingling of his keys made the search all the more stressful. He had to get inside.

The doorknob left a small dent in the wall where it was slammed open. He stumbled into the living room and, as soon as he saw it, he lunged for the remote. Denial drove him forward. He had seen Beth's vapid expression. He had seen the shimmering, pink light dancing across the back wall of the living room. In his state, he couldn't accept that it was too late. He had to do something.

He snatched up the remote up from where it sat next to her, he placed his thumb over the power button, and, for the first time since he had heard the warning over the radio, he paused. He swallowed. His eyes roamed over the woman sitting on the couch, the woman that used to be his Beth.

He had never seen her like this before.

She looked... relaxed.

Her doctorate was well underway when he first met Beth. In fact, the first time he saw her was over a wall of reference books piled around her in the college library. He fell in love with her over dinner one night, listening to her try to explain the nuances of her thesis: analytic and algebraic topology of locally Euclidean metrization of infinitely differentiable Riemannian manifold. Just the title alone made his head spin, but it had represented years of work and effort. Every page of it carried so many sleepless nights and so many frustrated tears. She got a job offer even before finishing her PhD program, so she only had a week of respite between getting her degree and entering the workforce. She never took a sick day. She never stopped working, even when they were on vacation. The muscles in her back and shoulders had the kind of knots that would grant the masseuse who could untangle them dominion over some distant kingdom. Cody did his best to try and take her mind off work, but it never lasted very long. He wasn't upset about it, just worried. The money was good and Beth often talked about early retirement, but Cody secretly worried that stress would keep her from making it that far.

The Beth in front of him on the couch, however, had no such stress. For the first time in the many years of their relationship, Cody saw nothing behind her eyes: no stresses, no worries, no calculations, no thoughts at all. She didn't even react to him coming through the door. Sure, the buttons of her shirt lay strewn about the room. Yes, her breasts now rested on her thighs as she leaned forward to stare, blank-faced, at the TV. The swirling spiral on the screen reflected and glistened on the line of drool that rolled down from her chin and dripped into her growing, deepening cleavage.

Then, a realization struck Cody. It wasn't chilling. It wasn't comforting. It simply was.

Beth never watched television.

She simply didn't have the time for it and her focus was always somewhere else. She couldn't follow a plot line when she'd space out every few seconds to turn a 5-dimensional figure over in her head. Dialogue was more likely to frustrate her by interrupting her train of thought than to entertain.

Cody thought back to where the remote had been when he first picked it up: sitting right next to her, perfectly—and, perhaps, intentionally—placed. With new perspective, he reappraised the woman in front of him. All of the stress and all of the worry were gone from her face. Her muscles were relaxed. For the first time, she had nothing to ponder, nothing to think about at all. She had "joked" many times that her chest was her inspiration for pursuing mathematics, having so much experience with perfectly flat planes. Cody let out a wry chuckle at the thought of the old Beth trying to map the coordinates of new Beth's gigantic, round (though not perfectly spherical) tits.

A quiet moan from Beth brought Cody back to reality just in time to watch her breasts swell another cup size. Even with the buttons gone, a seam down the side of her shirt groaned under the stress, a gap widening just a little bit more. He looked at the remote. He looked at the screen. He looked back to Beth.

Resignation filled the sigh that rushed out of Cody, his chest rising and falling. He set the remote down on the coffee table and went towards the kitchen, stopping to kiss the top of Beth's head and give her shoulder a little, comforting squeeze. Only her breasts moved, rippling as the motion carried through them.

Cody could let her watch the spiral for a little bit longer.

But she had a really good idea! She was going to suck him off again! He really liked that, especially when her sister watched. And after she swallowed his load, he'd be in a good mood and she could ask him if he was mind controling her!

Thank you for interviewing. We'll be on touch.

Thank you, Sir. Can you give me a hint about how I did?

We'll, you've certainly got potential.

Is there anything that might improve my chances? I'm really committed to getting this position.

Well…HR would kill me… but, how committed are you to your gender?

My... gender? I don't understand.

Well, I was really hoping hire a young woman, in all honesty.

That... that isn't legal... You can't hire or not hire based on gender!

Oh, but I wouldn't! I'm not rejecting your application based on your current gender! Like I said, you've got real potential! And you said you're committed to getting the pos, soooooo....

Wha! What just happened?!

We're moving on to phase two of the Interview! Congratulations!

You turned me into a woman! How did you even do this?!

Would you believe magic?

This... this is totally unacceptable!

Yeah, it's really not what I was going for. I'm still kind of new at this. But it waa a good proof of concept! Let's try again!

Try again?! No! You change me back this instant!

You're not sounding nearly as committed to getting hired as you claimed, Bambi. Do you want this job or not?

My name's not Bambi! My name is... is...

My name's Bambi! <giggle> Bambi Knockers!

It's a pleasure to meet you, Bambi! Don't tell HR, but I subscribe to your OnlyFans!

OMG! <giggle> Is that why I got the overview?

Oh no, your resume was very impressive! And you're even more impressive in person, if you don't mind my saying.

Well aren't you just the sweetest! You know, I make enough online that I don't even need a full-time job, but something about working for a well dressed businessman and having him tell me what to do... it just calls to me, you know? It's like, that's what I was made for!

You know, that's exactly the sort of attitude I look for in a personal assistant, Miss Knockers!

Oh please, Sir, call me Bambi!

Of course, Bambi! Now, before I making a final decision, just how committed are you to getting this position?

Oh, Sir! I am SO committed! <giggle> In fact, if you don't think it'll get you in trouble with HR, I'd like to crawl under this table and show you exactly how committed I am!

You know, Bambi, I've been developing certain skills that I think will make HR a lot more flexible in the near future. Let's move on to the cock sucking phase of the interview.

"Surprise! Hello, my love! I've missed you so much! Aw, come on, aren't you happy to see me? 'How did you get into my bedroom?' Hah, baby, you're so silly! You were always sooooooo funny. Gosh, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long! It's been, what, three months? Ever since you made that, hah, that other little joke about not wanting to date anymore! I kept waiting for you to come back and say that you were just kidding, and every day that went by, the joke just got funnier and funnier! And then! Hah! And then, you posted a picture with that fucking bimbo skank and I thought, wow! This guy is really committed to the bit! So I thought, since you're so fucking funny, I can make a joke of my own!

"I'm sure you've noticed by now that I'm a little... Different from the last time we saw each other. Do you like them? I knew you would. On all three of our dates, I saw you glancing at busty girls. I always suspected, but once I saw that big-titty bitch in your picture, I knew for sure. So I decided to make sure that you'd never have a reason to look at any other woman again. I took every pill I could find, rubbed my tits down with gallons of growth cream, massaged them and milked them and did everything I could to make them huge. And look at me now! They're bigger than my fucking head and still growing! Don't you want to see how big they'll get? Don't you want to be right by my side as my boobs become udders become mega milkers become super bouncy, juicy jiggly, hyper ultra tits!?

Brandy couldn't process her current predicament. It wasn't that Brandy couldn't understand what was going on, or remember what had happened. Simply, nothing was going through Brandy's mind. Just a quiet stale blankness. There was a memory in her brain of straightening her hair, doing her makeup, putting on the sexiest thing she owned (a shiny black bikini) and driving over to her long time friend Marcia's house. Just like there were memories of years of Marcia teasing her for hiding a "great rack" in loose sweaters and dowdy outfits. But those memories, just like every single other thought possible, simply wouldn't appear in Brandy's mind. Her friend's email full of flashing spiralling lights and strange twisting sounds had made sure of that.

Here's a super-hero corruption story for you all. Enjoy! The soil was dry again. Millie dragged the hose across the rows of overgrown tomato plants, the worn denim of her jeans darkening at the knees where she’d crouched too long. She thumbed the nozzle and sent a lazy arc of water over the vines. Her arms still remembered how to throw a car, but these days they were just good for digging up weeds and hauling compost. It was easier this way.

She adjusted the bandana tied over her hair. No one expected much from a woman with dirt under her fingernails and a sunburn on her shoulders. That’s what she needed. That’s what she’d chosen.

“Hey, Millie!” A voice called from behind the chain-link. Kevin, the college kid that lived nearby, waved as he jogged past. “You gonna be around next week?”

Millie raised a hand in return. “As long as the beans keep growing.”

He laughed and kept running.

She stayed for another ten minutes, pretending to check on the kale. But really, she was just listening to the distant buzz of cicadas. The garden was relaxing. It kept her mind off things.

This is better, she reminded herself. This is how it has to be.

Her tote bag was heavy with gloves and produce as she walked home. The town had grown on her after all her time in the city. It was a small place with smaller people and no skyline in sight. No one here remembered The Fortress.  Her she was just Millie.

She passed the bakery and caught her reflection in the window. She hadn’t thrown a punch in three years, but her body was still toned. She had always been that way, ever since her powers manifested.  The ability to be super-strong as The Fortress also impacted her “normal” self.

The house she rented was nothing special, one story and modest. But it was hers, and more importantly, it was quiet. She stepped up onto the porch, dropped the tote by the bench, and sat on the top step, elbows on her knees, fingers laced. The breeze was warm.

She heard the steps before she saw the man. She recognized them immediately. Her spine straightened before she realized it, some buried instinct flaring up through the years of repression. She rose slowly and turned towards her old friend.

Rhys walked up the steps to her porch with a lazy smile.  He looked mostly the same, tall and thick-shouldered, but older now.  She guessed they were both looking older now. 

“Hey, Millie,” he said, his voice low and familiar.

Millie blinked at him, unsure what part of her wanted to push him away and what part of her wanted to throw her arms around his neck.

“Rhys,” she managed. “That’s a voice I haven’t heard in years.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Didn’t know if you still wanted me around.”

She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not sure I do, though it’s nothing against you.  You know that.”

“I get it,” he said. “You look… different.”

“Good.”

“Not good. Just… different.”

Millie exhaled through her nose. “Cut to it. You didn’t drive three hours to make small talk.”

Rhys glanced over his shoulder, then he pulled a thick folder from inside his jacket and held it out.

She didn’t move to take it.

He kept his arm extended. “I know what he did to you. What he started. But that was three years ago.”

“That’s not long enough.”

“He’s active again. Stronger. And he’s not working alone anymore.”

Millie narrowed her eyes but didn’t take the folder. “Then call someone else. There’s a whole new crop of kids out there who’d kill for a shot.”

“None of them are you.”

“Exactly.”

Rhys stepped closer, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t be here if I had any other option, Mills. You think I want to drag you back into this? But I’ve seen what happens when we sit on our hands. We don’t have time.”

She snatched the folder, but didn’t open it. Not yet.

“I gave it up,” she said. “Because I had to. Because I could feel it. Whatever that bastard did to me, whatever his corruption changed in me. I could feel it waiting. Clawing at the inside of my skull. I stopped because if I didn’t, I was going to hurt someone.”

“I know,” Rhys said, his voice quieter now. “That’s why I’m here. Because you’re the only one who would rather quit than go dark.”

They stood in silence for a long time. Only the cicadas made a sound.

Finally, she stepped back into the doorway.

“You’ve got five minutes to convince me,” she said. “And if I don’t like what’s in that folder, I’m burning it.”

Rhys nodded and stepped inside.

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

The footage replayed for the fifth time in twenty minutes. Millie sat frozen on the weight bench at the gym. She watched emergency personnel pick through the rubble of a collapsed parking structure, dragging twisted metal aside to free trapped bodies. Fires raged along the outer edge of the frame. Civilians ran for cover. The screaming was muted, but it was still clear.

At the center of it all, behind the smoke and chaos, stood him. His crimson coat swayed as he walked calmly through the carnage. The camera tried to zoom in, tried to get a clear shot. Millie already knew who it was.

The Corrupter had returned and was creating chaos.

There were maybe four people inside the gym and no one paid her any attention as she got off the bench and walked to the locker room.

She stood in front of the mirror and willed herself to become The Fortress. The transformation didn’t happen all at once. It began with pressure. Heat crawled across her skin, then buried itself deeper. Her chest pulled tight and she clenched her fists as the first wave passed through her muscles.

Her calves thickened visibly as her stance adjusted. Her thighs followed next, growing denser, stronger. Her glutes rounded and rose with the same tension she remembered from years ago. It was like the strength was bubbling up from inside and forcing its way out.

Her torso followed. Her abdominals contracted hard, deep lines cutting across her midsection as the muscle rebuilt itself in seconds. Her waist tightened, but only to exaggerate the new size of her lats and shoulders. Her arms pulsed outward, biceps and triceps reemerging with perfect symmetry and explosive mass. She rolled her shoulders back as they bulked into the full frame of The Fortress. Her delts capped into place, neck thickening just enough to support the shift in her posture.

She exhaled sharply.

Her spine straightened and she rose to her full height of 6’8”.  Once again, she was The Fortress. 

When she stepped back out onto the gym floor, people noticed. One of the treadmill runners slowed to a walk, glancing sideways. The man on the bench did a double-take, eyes drifting from her face down to her waist and then lower, before quickly looking away. She didn’t acknowledge any of it.

She walked directly to the squat rack.

She didn’t warm-up, she didn’t need to. She loaded four plates on each side of the barbell, ducked under, braced, and stood with it like it weighed nothing. Her legs barely flinched. She dropped into a full squat and exploded back up. Once. Twice. Ten reps in, she re-racked the bar and moved on to the sled.

One of the gym-goers muttered something under his breath. She heard it but didn’t really care.

She reached for the sled handles, loaded on more weight than the average gym even kept on hand, and pushed across the turf with steady, controlled steps. The floor rumbled with every pass. Her forearms strained, glistening under the overhead lights. Veins surfaced across her arms and shoulders, clearly visible now. Her stomach was a wall of tight muscle, her legs pumped with power she hadn’t felt in years.

A few onlookers had stopped pretending not to watch. It’s hard to ignore the massively tall, blonde, visibly muscular woman in tight blue gymwear as she bench pressed the entire rack of weights.  Not that she minded.  She actually kind of liked the attention.

It felt good to be back.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out into the night air. Her body still hummed with energy. Every inch of her was sharp and capable. 

The Corrupter had made his return and so had The Fortress.

She turned east and started running. 

It was time to return to the city.

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Jenny struck a pose and adopted her best "cutesy playing with her hair" expression and snapped the selfie. She reviewed the photo to make sure she looked good enough, and posted it to her gram. It wasn't that she *failed* to notice her latex flag dress, the lewd way her chest struggled to stay inside said dress, or the vapidly whorish way her mouth hung open, or even the "rule Britannia", "chav life" and "God save the king" hashtags she posted with. It was just that all the smart girl, progressive reform activist, chapstick lesbian parts of Jennifer's mind had been deftly (and hypnotically, surgically, and chemically) persuaded to take a backseat to the hyper-patriotic, slutty, chav Jenny personality that those nice government therapists had found inside her.

Jennifer wasn't so angry anymore at least. Now that immigration, LGBTQ rights, and NHS funding were things that big, strong, male MPs were keeping her safe from instead of things she was agitwting for more of, Jenny was much happier. It was way easier to just let the government keep her safe while she focused on partying, loving her country, and her bedroom "cheerleading" for patriots in government that her therapist tells her to fuck.

Jenny's a much better UK isolationist, lightly supremacist eye candy than Jennifer ever was as a progressive activist. Jennifer always failed and got yelled at constantly, everyones always happy to see Jenny!

Twenty came easy for Rosemary. At least it did the second time. Dimly, locked away somewhere, were foggy memories of how hard Rosa had found twenty. The constant struggle to stay fashionable, to date well, to be cool and hip, the endless fight against becoming either a loser or a dumb party girl. All of them Rosa's problems, and none of them hers.

Rosemary just dressed how she liked, and the boys in her D&D game and the girls in anime club both seemed to like her look well enough. Rosemary didn't care how big her glasses were, they gave her a nice clear field of view and they were so much more comfortable than contacts. Rosemary was aware of makeup and hair styling, even vaguely remembered hundreds of hours of Rosa's practice, but it just didn't bother her. Not anymore. Rosemary just was who she was. And who she was, thanks to her college aged son's strange amulet, was thirty two years younger than the life she'd lived, and a total nerd.

Something of the early 50s Rosa who'd critiqued her son for becoming increasingly nerdy in college was still in there, still struggling to have a perfect life, but Rosemary was far happier when she ignored it. Somewhere a job and husband were probably missing Rosa, but this semester Rosemary had spent as an increasingly nerdy sophomore was the easiest and happiest of her life. Her son kept inviting her to geekier and geekier pursuits, and the utterly unselfconscious, totally ignorant of status version of herself went along and enjoyed herself immensely.

It was certainly magic that had turned the trim MILF into the chesty coed, but was the magic responsible for her growing love of role playing and magic the gathering? Was the magic to blame for her ditching fashion trends entirely for her copying anime characters? Was she hooking up with her son's best friend because the amulet made him magically persuasive, or because Eric and Rosemary shared hobbies and a dorky sense of humor?

Rosemary simply didn't care. Being a nerdy twenty year old just came so much easier than being an uptight 52 year old. Besides, she'd just reached her new boyfriend's apartment, she had more fun things to think about...

Most women might be upset that the person sitting across the interview table from them kept glancing at her cleavage, but for Rachel, she was counting on it. Her qualifications for the job were fine—great, even. She had managed to get to the final round of interviews on her own merits. Regardless of how suited for the job she was, however, Rachel needed this job and she wasn't about to leave the decision in someone else's hands. If she had to use her other talents, skills that notably did not make it onto her resume, then so be it.

Once again, the interviewer's eyes dipped down to the deep canyon of cleavage on full display, framed by the plunging neckline of her shirt, and Rachel simply smiled. Knowing that she held her attention, her mind in the palm of her hand, gave Rachel a thrill that she had never been able to replicate. Rachel leaned forward, watching as the interviewer's eyes went wide, her pupils dilating, her train of thought slowly derailing. To confirm the hold she had on the hapless interviewer, Rachel gave a little cough. Instead of snapping to attention, the interviewer just whimpered, unable to look away as the sharp motion made Rachel's breasts jiggle in her top.

"I think it's rather obvious what sort of assets I'd bring to your team."

The words washed over the interviewer and the woman nodded slowly.

"My ample skills and expansive experience make me, in a big way, a natural leader, and I could easily lead the team to stretch beyond their limits."

A soft whimper floated across from the other side of the table. Rachel knew she was laying it on thick, but, fuck it, she was having fun. Her breasts bounced again as she scooted her seat a bit closer to the table and leaned in, her large breasts squishing against the top of it. They bulged out of the cups of her bra and spilled over the neckline of her shirt. For a moment, she was worried that the interviewer had stopped breathing.

"But, most of all, I think this could be an environment where I can truly grow. From everything I've heard, this is a workplace that values growth above all else and I want nothing more than to grow. I believe that you could be the one to grow me into the huge... presence that I want to be. How about it? Would you like to help me grow?"

Ellie-Mae didn't see any trace of the mousy nerd who'd moved to Texas last year in the stunning cowgirl preparing to step outside and blow her new boyfriend's mind. Why would she? Eloise had been a pudgy dork from NYC with an artsy-fartsy streak a mile wide and an empty bed. Not like Ellie-Mae, not like Ellie-Mae at all.

For a moment, she did something she didn't worry about too much anymore: she reflected. The culture shock of arriving for her first year of grad school in sun-drenched Texas from her cloudy northern home had been extreme. Why did all the men in her programs talk to each other and ignore her? Why did all the women call themselves girls and want to talk reality TV and gossip? Eloise couldn't find any friends to discuss fantasy literature with, to play dungeons and dragons with, to study synthetic chemistry with. Running a hand up her taught thigh, Ellie-Mae smirked to herself. Back then, when she'd almost quit outright and moved home, she hasn't understand at all why no one shared her interests, why everyone was at the gym, partying outside, or hooking up all the time. Now? Ellie-Mae laughed, now she got it.

It was because that old stuff fucking sucked, and being a hot piece of ass with perfect hair and guys begging to hook up rules. All that nerd shit and weird ethnic food with all those carbs in it could rot in the dumpster Kate had told her to dump it in. Ellie didn't even care that her degree was shot, with basically no chance of recovery. She made more on her insta and at the club than she ever would have been a chemist or whatever the fuck she'd been studying. Kate had hooked her up well. Plus, boys could always be persuaded to take care of her for a little fun. She didn't need a fancy job to go on vacation; two blowjobs and her favorite miniskirt and some guy would take her whereever she wanted to go, just like was happening at the lake this weekend.

Happy with her selfie, Ellie-Mae texted it to Kate and then stepped out of the RV to make Boone's dreams come true. The sun was bright, and his eyes were big and hungry at the sight of her. 20 hours a week at the gym paid off. Plenty of country girl suntanning helped.

He immediately pulled her down into his lap, mouths meeting hungrily, his hands jumping immediately to her breasts and ass, helping themselves to what she'd been coyly promising all week. Kate had been right when she said Boone got what he wanted, directly. As he popped the seam of her shorts and slipped inside her with powerful, eager thrusts, Ellie thought of how Kate was *always* right.

Eloise hadn't believed that was possible when the beautiful southern country girl had first comforted her when she's broken down crying in the coffee shop near campus. How could a bottle blonde stick with fake boobs and a Texas flag tattoo be right about *anything*? But the influencer had managed to calm Eloise, managed to convince her to come to a party with her. Been persuasive enough for Eloise to start that party with three shots and no concerns. Kate had been right that the party was way more fun like that. That being carefree and wild and going along with all the other southern belles at the party had been way more fun than failing to find a guy who wanted to talk about trading card games. Kate had been right about that, for sure.

"Expectation"

It takes a ton of programming to reduce such a diehard, anti-establishment, fourth wave punk like Vendetta to such a cute, sweet girlie in a pink designer blazer. She'd brought it on herself though, at the end of the day. When she met Hugo, rich prick that he was, the woman then known as Vendetta couldn't deny that his little hypno act, getting one of her acquantices to admit her crush and beg the married professor for a date only to get shot down, spoke to something inside of her. Something about seeing the other girl do something she knew was wrong, but couldn't stop herself from doing, was hot, primal and taboo. Maybe it was a mistake to say as much when she asked Hugo for turn. His counter offer "we can play with hypno, but only if I get to reshape you" was preposterous, and Vendetta immediately refused. But she couldn't get the look on her friends face as she ruined herself out of her mind, and even a deluge of hypno and mind control pornography couldn't slake the new desire in Vendattas's loins. It took two weeks, but she agreed to Hugo's offer.

V was tough enough, had a strong enough mind, she'd enjoy the play and resist the shaping. Or so she told herself. Squawking like a chicken in public, letting her childhood southern drawl out at work, forgetting how her zippers worked, any and all little hypno-displays were just as hot as she thought they'd be. The lovely trances and the fun games were just the cover though, first things first Hugo slowly erased her memory of their deal. Soon Val wasnt meditating and listening to deprogramming files after every session anymore, because she forgot why she'd need to do that. Then Hugo delved in and found the reasons she didn't like him: his slick clothes, fancy car, and posh way of speaking. One by one, he detached those tastes from their underlying reason: her hatred of inherited wealth, and erased them. He couldn't budge her core beliefs about wealth disparity, but after six weeks Val might have hated inequality, but she no longer disliked fancy things or high style. Which only let her intimate times with Hugo flow in, since they'd been spending so much close time in trance.

From there, the onetime punk who no longer disliked her hypnotist or remembered what she was supposed to be on guard against, was easy pickings. Putting her back on her real name Valentina was only the nest step, filling her with love for her hypnotist and a desire to please him with her look was easy. Less than three months after the grunge punk Vendetta saw her friend make a fool of herself, Valentina the classy fashion girl was hanging off Hugo's arm at every upscale party in town, doing everything she could to get herself a big expensive ring to show off to the other girls at the country club...

Having to take a photo with her ex's new fiance was embarassing. Avery knew they'd broken up over a couple of personal and life goal issues: primarily her desire to hold off on kids, and his interest in "guest stars" in their bed. But standing next to this white-clad goddess, it looked like she'd been dumped for not being sexy enough. The mile of Jade's cleavage on display made Avery look like a teenager, and everyone seemed to be making the same conclusion. She sighed. Just another way John had been a pain in her side.

Jade was saying something as the photographer stepped away. Avery turned, and found herself watching as the buxom blonde drew a hand down her chest and rested it between her cleavage. Avery found herself, mouth agape, staring at the incredible sight. Jade kept speaking, so quietly that Avery had to lean in, fill more of her vision with the amazing valley in display. Why hadn't she noticed how gorgeous Jade was before? She nodded along as Jade kept whispering, but she was thinking more about those tits. She was lost in their obviously superior perfection. She understood John's decision now, supported it in fact. She was telling Avery something, but she just nodded along, unwilling to argue with such a goddess.

Claire nodded and Amanda snapped the pic. The lightly entranced brunette collecting her own trophy shot as she was inducted formerly into Claire's collection of humbled endowed women.

"Perfect darling," Claire released the wondrous weight she was hefting like the trophy they were. Another overly confident college who thought having big breasts made her queen of the dorm, helped to see how much easier it was to listen to poor old flat-chested Claire. As Amanda followed instructions and sent the images to Claire, the blonde hypnotist basked in her victory. It wasn't that breasts weren't powerful, they were an incredible hypnotic tool, but rather that being attached to them didn't protect you from them.

Amanda has let Claire guide her in a meditation, let her hold her wrists and point their attention to their feet, though of course Amanda couldn't usually see her feet. The soft jiggles of her wrists, the matching sway in her huge soft breasts, had been just as hypnotic on Amanda as if they'd been on the hypnotist herself. It had taken less than 10 minutes for Amanda to sink intro trance for her own chest, and less than twenty more for Claire to change their relationship forever.

Peeling her shirt away from her under-clad, over-heated form, Mrs. Gutierrez couldn't help but think the deal was well worth it. Skipping a bra and posing for him was an easy price to pay to finally get to fuck her daughter's boyfriend...

Wait, no, that wasn't right. She was a grown, smart woman, she didn't want to fuck him...did she? Sofia frowned as she tried to push away that strange intrusive thought. The deal...the deal was actually about her self confidence, right? Yes, that sounded better. Sofia had agreed to serve him as the price for him to help her overcome her modesty issues. And he'd come through, hadn't he? She could now proudly wear the trashy animal-print she loved without shame. Surely he deserved to treat her as a personal servant for that!

Sofia clutched her head and stumbled to a chair. No, something was very, very wrong with either of those deals. She didn't want to be trashy or to fuck him, why would she have made trades for those? Her head was spinning. She could remember agreeing to those terms, remember wanting those payoffs so badly, but it was so unlike her, why had she wanted those deals? Dimly she rememebered a different deal. After her endless complaining about the way her daughter had changed since dating him he'd offered her a deal: let him hypnotize her one time, and then he'd leave her daughter alone.

Class is over, Matt. Everyone else left. You'd know that if you hadn't been on your phone the whole time.

This isn't a phone, Professor. You have a no phones in the classroom policy, remember?

Then what the hell is it?

It's a babe editor I've been developing. It uses reality engine technology.

Excuse me?! A babe editor?! That's really inappropriate, Matt! I'm your professor!

Well, there's no reason a professor can't be a babe, Alyssa. <click>

Oh my god! How did you do that?

I told you it wasn't a phone, Babe!

Stop calling me "Babe" you little pervert! And undo what you just did to me right now!

Calm down, Alyssa! Just let me run this little sub routine...

I will not calm d....

Like... what just.... OMG! <giggle> Did you just, like, make me a bimbo?

Yes. I did. What do you think?

What do I think? I don't! I'm a total dummy and it's awesome!

I'm so glad you approve, Babe!

I'm totally gonna give you an A plus now!

That's really sweet, Alyssa, but now that I've got this thing working, I'm probably going to drop out. Could I get a blowjob instead of an A?

OMG! YES! I luv sucking dick! <giggle>

***

Next Period...

Hi class! I'm afraid lecturers are canceled for the rest of the year! A student in my last class made me a bimbo and helped me set up an Only Fans! <giggle> There’s a QR code on the handout on your desks for 50% off!