A Cold Wind
“Ughhh get off my head you evil bitch.” Jasmine screamed tugging at the demonic black wig attached to her head.
Jane or Jasmine as she was called now had been under the influence of the evil wig for just over a year now ever since she had found it in a costume shop. The wig had transformed her from a shy plain girl to a lustful bombshell almost immediately.
At first Jane had loved her new body and the attention she had gotten. She had landed a handsome banker who showered her with money and expensive gifts. She easily inserted herself into his privledged social circle and had quickly asserted her dominance over the other wives and girlfriends. She had never felt so good.
But then the wig started to whisper in her mind to do depraved and evil things. Things like stealing money from the bank her boyfriend worked for. Pitting her girlfriends against one another for fun. Fucking their men behind their backs. The wig seemed to revel in the chaos.
For a time so did Jane but then she got sloppy and people started to find out about the money, the manipulation and the adultery and her world crumbled before her. The wig loved every second of it but Jane had had enough.
“You’ve ruined everything. I have nothing now because of you.” Jane said screaming at the wig.
“Oh my dear you were nothing before you met me. I made you infamous. We can start again and cause even more destruction. You’ll love it.” The wig hissed. Jane could feel its influence over her start to work but fought hard against it.
“No! Your power over me ends today. I wish I had never found you!” She said tugging at the wig which was wrapped tight around her own natural hair underneath.
“No! What are you doing?! You don’t want this! You want to be an evil bitch!” The wig said panicking.
“Not anymore!” Jane said and with one solid rip pulled the wig from her head and instinctively threw it out the nearby window.
Being in the penthouse the wig easily caught the strong fall wind and was blown several blocks away within seconds.
At this point the wig was thinking this was the end of its corrupting ways but as it began to descend onto a secluded street it miraculously found itself floating towards the head of an unsuspecting woman.
The woman in question was Francine, a timid librarian who wore a white and blue turtleneck with a black blazer and white pants. She was by no means unattractive but she had a way of blending into the background.
She was running a little late for work and was taking a shortcut rarely used. As she hurried along the empty street all of a sudden something landed on her head and obscured her vision.
“What the heck?” She exclaimed as she moved the raven black strands from her eyes. However as she was preoccupied with her sight the wig settled comfortably on her head and started to dig in.
“What a stroke of luck landing on your head my dear but let’s see what we are dealing with.” The wig whispered in Francine’s head. The thick black locks wrapped around Francine’s brown strands like tentacles.
“What’s happening? Who’s voice is that?” Francine said while still trying to yank the hair out of her face.
“I’m here to help you reach your full potential and turn you into an evil manipulative bitch. I can see deep into your soul that you crave it. But you’ll need a body to match first.” The wig cackled inside Francine’s head.
“Wait, what? Ohhhhhh fuck.” Francine moaned as the wigs magic started to transform her body. It felt as though dozens of hands were massaging every inch of her.
“Let me infect your mind and turn your body into one that will be envied. You’ve always been jealous of the big breasted sluts who could snap their fingers and get what they want. The evil whores who bullied you in school, how you longed to lead them. You’ve been good too long, become the bitch you’ve always wanted to be.” The wig said as more changes took place.
Francine’s legs became slender and hairless. Her pussy tightened and became smooth. Her nails elongated and sharpened. The invisible hands worked her flab around like moulding clay and pushed them into her tits making them bigger.
Her mind meanwhile was gaining the depraved knowledge the wig had gathered over the centuries. Instantly she knew how to give the best blowjob, how to cum without using her hands, how to wrap men around her finger, how to corrupt others to do her bidding. As a librarian she thrived on gaining new knowledge. She embraced the evil ways, it made her feel powerful and she loved it.
“Yesssss fuck yes I give in. Warp my body and soul. Make me into an alpha bitch. I want everybody to know and fear me, I want to do so much bad. Fill my head up with even more evil secrets.” Francine moaned as the finishing touches to her transformation caused a layer of makeup to be applied to her face and her clothes merged into one skin tight white dress.
“How do you feel?” The wig asked but was confident of the answer. It sensed a longing in Francine to become a bad bitch that was lacking from previous hosts. It knew that she wouldn’t be pulling off the wig anytime soon.
“Mmmmm I feel so fucking good. Or maybe that should be so fucking bad.” The transformed Francine said with an evil laugh. She took off her glasses and threw them to the ground. She stretched out her new form with a soft moan and began to walk away.
“Excuse me, I believe you dropped these miss...?” Said a voice behind her. She turned to see a rather handsome man in a fine tailored suit holding up the glasses she just threw away. As soon as their eyes locked Francine knew she had her first victim. She walked slowly over to him allowing him to drink in her beauty. By the time she was feet away he was practically drooling.
“A girl like me wouldn’t be seen dead in glasses now would she? And please call me Francesca. You would be?” She said taking his tie into her hand and slowly pulling him close to her. She noticed a wedding ring on his finger which only intensified her interest in him.
“Sorry of course you’re too beautiful to have glasses. I’m T-Todd.” He stammered completely enthralled by this siren.
“Well T-Todd how about you make it up to me by buying me breakfast.” She said inches from his face.
“B-but it’s nearly 2pm.” He stammered again. He had never been so enraptured by someone and Francesca was delighted to see a large bulge in his pants. She had him in the palm of her hand and the wig whispered many delightfully evil ways to proceed.
“Well then we better find some way to occupy ourselves until morning.” She said with her lips almost touching his. She then abruptly dropped his tie and walked away in the opposite direction. An evil smile crossed her lips as seconds later she could hear him hurriedly catching up with her.
From that day on Francesca (or Francesca the Feared as she was known in some circles) quickly gained a reputation for a man stealing, home wrecking gold digger. A reputation she embraced fully. She loved every minute of chaos that she wrought and she caused so much of it by herself the wig eventually stopped suggesting evil deeds and instead sat back and enjoyed the ride.
