#attribute transfer

Nicki Eilish

Nicki Eilish-part 2

Billie Eilish screamed at the top of her lungs, eliciting a laugh from the on looking trap stars. Billie brought her attention back to the severed parts to notice they were moving on their own. They were parts of a light brown woman; A pink lipsticked mouth, smiling and licking it's lips, a large pair of G cup breasts, nipples erect from the air conditioning, a pair of size 7 feet with pink nail polish wiggling their toes, a mature shaven pussy, leaking sex fluids, two manicured hands with pink nail polish on, clicking its big nails against the metal of the cart out of anticipation, and a plump, massive set of ass and legs jiggling like a plate of jello.

“what the fuck is going on here?!” Billie violently yelled at the nurse and Adam whilst furiously thrashing against her rope binds.

The nurse gently cleared her throat before speaking “well its quite simple you see, a very gorgeous woman by the stage name of Nicki Minaj contacted us at Bond incorporated to allow you two to get more intimate…quite literally” the woman giggled to herself.

“what?!” Billie shouted, sounding more pissed off this time.

“well, I think it would just be easier to show you” The curvy nurse strutted behind Billie, the nurse reached for Billie’s soft hands and began to pet them.

This scared Billie to an insane degree. Out of nowhere Billie heard a loud *pop* right after another *pop*. Billie’s hands instantly felt numb “what did you do to me!?”.

The nurse walked back around to face the white haired teenager, the clacking of the nurses heels felt like needles in Billie’s ears. Once the nurse finally got around to the front of Billie she showed her what she had done. The nurse waved Billie’s now severed hands in the teen’s face.

“what the fuck is this!?!?!” Billie started to tear up.

Her heart sank further when she noticed her severed hands could still reply to her commands, Billie attempted to punch the nurse in the face with her hands but couldn’t gain enough momentum to do so.

The buxom nurse reached Billie’s hands up to her mouth and began to suck on each finger individually, causing Billie to cringe “mmmmm…I do love the taste of your sweat darling”.

Billie winced further at the provocative comment. The nurse then threw Billie’s hands over to Bahbie and Goth, both hands landed squarely in Bhad Bahbie’s lap. The redhead teen smirked at Billie Eilish’s discomfort before shoving one severed hand inside her bra and the other down the crotch of her skinny jeans, both of which Billie could tell were extremely tight. Instantly Billie could feel the sensation of Danielle’s perky nipples rising to arousal between the pop star’s fingers and her precum dripping in the palm of Billie’s other hand. The white haired pop star squirmed at the stray feelings assaulting her hands. Bhad Bahbie cackled at Billie.

Instantly Billie’s senses heightened to notice the nurse sifting through the body parts on the double layered cart, unfortunately for Billie she couldn't fully concentrate because of her hands stuffed down Danielle Bregoli’s clothes. The buxom nurse reached first for Nicki’s detached hands, the tanned fingers excitedly twitched.

“get away from me!” Billie begged.

The nurse remained quiet before moving behind Billie once more, with a loud *pop* Billie could no longer feel her hands under Bahbie’s clothes, which could only mean one thing. Billie craned her neck back to view her hands to notice Nicki Minaj’s brown hands now stuck to the ends of Billie’s pale wrists. Bill then quickly came to realize the hands were not in her control.

“what the fuck did you do to me?!” the pale teen shouted at the nurse and Adam, they both simply laughed at the white haired female’s distress.

Nicki’s parts trembled and jiggled, clearly excited to become attached to Billie.

“I will tell you what, young one. I will let you choose the next body part” the nurse joked whilst prodding and fingering Nicki’s detached pussy as it leaked it cum all over the cart.

The nurse eagerly strutted over to Billie before crouching down to drop the teen’s baggy yellow sweatpants, she then removed Billie’s black panties in order to get to Billie’s young vagina. The nurse took the opportunity to quickly tease Billie, expertly using her tongue to explore the young woman’s clitoris.

“oh fuck” Eilish moaned.

Once the nurse knew Billie was on the edge she reached for Bill’s pussy and removed it like detaching a Lego piece. The doctor proceeded to toss the pussy to Baby Goth who, once had it in her possession simply blew on the clit, sending many shivers down Bill’s spine. Once the nurse knew Billie was distracted she attached Nicki Minaj’s mature cunt to the young teen’s blank crotch. Billie yelped from the sudden burst of unimaginable lust, she could feel her tanned fingers swish and wiggle out of a need to play.

“what’s…happening to me” Billie moaned to the nurse.

“simple, im making you and Nicki Minaj one perfect pop star” the nurse motioned back to the metal cart.

Nicki’s toes clenching, and her toned, plump legs twitched. Her mouth licked it's lips and dripped saliva onto the cart, "Oh baby," Nicki’s mouth spoke. "I can't wait to belong to you forever".

"No, no please don't do this!" Billie pleaded. "Put me and Nicki back to normal, as we were before please!".

The nurse ignored her begging and continued to pick parts out from the cart. Next came Nicki’s big boobs. This part was the easiest for the nurse as Billie had no tits to begin with, the nurse simply lifted up Bill’s baggy yellow hoodie and fused the huge brown bust to Billie’s own flat chest. Arousal took over more and more of Bill’s thoughts by this point and was struggling to complete sentences.

“please…fuck…please end this…please” the silver haired teen moaned and cooed at the new alien feelings.

“were almost done, sweetie” the nurse spoke softly before reaching for Nicki Minaj’s signature fat ass and legs, once the nurse picked them up they jiggled and swayed from the slightest movement as if it were full of liquid. “I think this will be your favourite part”.

The nurse flawlessly detached Billie’s skinny legs as well as separating Nicki’s pussy from her old legs before attaching it back onto Nicki’s flat crotch before snapping Nicki’s big rump, thighs and legs to Billie’s white waist.

“oh darn, silly me I almost forgot something” the nurse then hurried back over to her cart to retrieve Nicki’s sexy feet to attach them to where they belonged.

Once everything was in place Adam came up behind Billie and untied her binds. Bill swiftly attempted to dart out the open door but found her legs and arms wouldn’t respond to her.

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…” Billie cried.

Nicki’s hand immediately shot up to her tanned bosom attached to Billie’s youthful chest and began professionally tweaking her dark brown nipple, the other manicured hand reached down to finger Nicki’s dark fat pussy.

"Please....no..." Billie cried, trembling from fear and pleasure.

“one final step over here” the nurse announced before reaching over to the think pink lips on the cart.

“oh fuck I can’t wait to become one with you Billie Eilish” the pink lips moaned.

“I don’t...want us to be like this forever…please” Billie attempted to speak in between orgasms against her own will.

This is the fulfillment of two very similar requests. Enjoy.

   Life was hell at Diana Penebscott’s School for Gifted Women, for some that is. By looking at it’s student population you’d be fooled about just what most of the girls are gifted with. It would be damn hard to find an IQ higher than a hundred, and even harder still to find a bust line below double D’s. They exist though, and unfortunately, all of both categories belong to my friends and me. What kind of asshole god sets things up this way? Even the faculty represent this disparity well. It wouldn’t be so bad if they let us alone, but something about perceived weakness makes them dig in their five-inch heels. “Well, well. If it isn’t the itty bitty titty committee! Gonna work up some science to fix yourself flatsy?” That was practically their war cry. The other girls and I, not given the boon of boobs, just naturally gravitated towards each other. It was a survival mechanism.

   The faculty never lifted a finger for us. Half of them sported chest that were just the same as their students, and the other half were alumni that enjoyed the current status quo. “It’s just playful hazing,” they’d say, “don’t let it get to you.” That in and of itself wouldn’t have been to hard, save for that traitorous viper Alexis. She was one of us once, the underclass at the school. That and my best friend. But then last summer, her “daddy” bought her into the popular girl's favor. We all watched as she came bouncing onto the campus in a low-cut shirt, so painfully eager to show everyone her new chest. She instantly gravitated past us and our weak waves into the embrace of Wendy, the head cheerleader. Why an all girls college with no football team needed to pour money into a cheer team was beyond me, but they were there, and like many other institutions they formed the top of the student hierarchy. They welcomed her with open arms, and I…I was actually stupid enough to think that this might be a turning point for the school. I thought that maybe she might show the other girls that we weren’t different, that it was all skin deep. But the day after, she was there, shoulder to shoulder with all those other bitches as they hurried mockery at us. That would’ve been hard enough, but she was the first one to grab a tomato from the salad bar and aim it right at my face.

   I’m not entirely sure which part of her betrayal sent me over the edge. I was never mean to her, never a cross word. I wasn’t catty with a single one of them, yet they hounded all of us to no end. All because they won the genetic lottery. All because of those fucking tits. Why did I have to be born smart? Why can’t I just be like them? And, naturally, when I thought the pit I had slipped into couldn’t get any deeper, who should come up to me but Alexis? “Hey there, couldn’t help but notice you looked a little down. I’m sorry about that, but you know how it is right? Gotta show I can hang with them. I’m sure you’ll develop a little bit more one day. I mean, if I could give you some of mine I would, ya know? But wishing won’t make it so. Toodles! By the way, you might wanna stay away from the common area, we’re kinda staking a claim to it. Bye.” Even the way she spoke to me was different. Like she thought all of it was just a part of some game. But as the hatred crystalized in my blood, I couldn’t get that line out of my head. ‘If I could give you some of mine…’

   The steam of the hot showers clung to the nubile young bodies of the women and cleared away the sweat and toil of their expansive routines. “Alexis,” Wendy said, “you did well at practice today and all, but you seriously need to stop talking with that flats patsy, understand? We have a reputation to maintain.” “I know, it’s just kinda fun to string her along. She still thinks we’re friends, isn’t that sad?” “Totally, she just needs to like move on and focus on her stupid book junk. Don’t forget to wash up everything, looking good is ninety percent of the job.” Alexis gleefully did as she was told. No matter how many times she looked at her new breasts she simply couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that they were hers. Her father paid well for them too, it took a very well trained eye to see any falseness to them. Her fingers tickled along their underside, still surprised by the way they curved perfectly into her cupped hands. At first she was determined to be different, to not succumb to the way of the other girls. But she couldn’t help seeing things differently now. Breasts were a real gift, and she wasn’t about to waste hers on her former friends. It was so difficult for her to resist the subtle slippage of her hand down to her moist entrance. But she was snapped from her pre-onanistic daydream when she heard a gasp over the hissing of the showers. “OMG, Alexis! Look at your butt!”

   Wendy gaped in quiet shock as he underling swung her torso around searching for the best angle. Wendy and the entire cheer squad watched as the newbie’s butt began to undulate. As if it were being pumped with air then deflated over and over. Alexis felt stinging friction on her ass and spun in place trying to catch the cause. Each revolution gave more detail to the women. Alexis’s ass was quite plump, but as she turned once it looked a little bit flatter. Even more so on the next turn. Her hips caved in and became like twigs. Her hands were frantically slapping at her toneless bottom, almost like she thought it was asleep and tried to wake it. It was like she never had an ass to begin with now. The squad had developed a collective pit in their stomachs as the newbie’s ass vanished. Alexis grabbed what barely counted as a lump of flesh at the base of her spine. Tears mingled with the metallic water of the showers as she slunk to the floor. Too shocked to notice that her most loved breasts began to pulse as well.

   Alexis only noticed when her heaving sobs pushed her ribcage into her crossed arms. She had spent years feeling her flat chest against her arms as she cried, but now she derived terror instead of comfort. Her arms flung away and she saw her implants fade into her torso as if they had been punctured from the inside. “Jesus Alexis! What kind of implants did your dad like, buy you?” There came no answer. All Alexis could see was her father's fifty thousand dollar present flush away, as well as any chance at popularity. Alexis was afraid to raise her head. Her ears twitch in anticipation of the volley of insults to be cast her way. Fraud, liar, cheat. But when none came, she did look, and she saw as each one of her squamates breasts began to pulse and whither before her unbelieving eyes.

   The shower had become more tears than water that day. The squad had left without notice. The next day as classes began, they all assembled in the common area. All of them was stuffed bras and padded pants. None looked convincing. Wendy especially, her development was early, and the idea of stuffing never occurred to her before last night. Many of them still cried heavy tears as they looked at all their flat friends, reminding themselves of their own low state. “Well. Well. Well. Look at what we have here. The newest branch of the itty bitty titty committee. See anything familiar ladies?” Alexis recognized the voice of her old friend, but nothing else. It was as though she had been hit by the puberty truck overnight! Her breasts were mountainous and plotted their eruption from behind the flimsy buttons of her shirt. Her hips had become so large that her skirt was riding up her thigh. You could land a jumbo jet on that ass. Alexis and the squad stared openmouthed as she began to speak. “You know Alexis; I was pretty mad at you. But know that I know how good it feels to have a nice pair of sweater melons, and an ass that has caused a fender bender, I think I understand you. Too bad you girls couldn’t hold on to these puppies. I mean, I’d share some with you, but I don’t want to. Toodles, losers.” The squad watch her spill on a heel and strut away, mesmerized by the perfect sway of her ass.

   That was incredible. I mean…wow. Who would’ve thought catharsis could feel so good. I wasn’t kidding about how good these felt. Holy shit. Just the way they bounced freely as I walked, the attention they drew, and the tension between my buttons is making me so freaking hot. It’s amazing what a few nanites can do. It was a brilliant idea to put them in the water supply. I can take as much of their curves as I want, then redistribute the wealth as I see fit. Of course, one should ask themselves in this situation…why stop with the cheerleaders?

Nicki Eilish-part 1

“You want me to work with who?” Billie Eilish swiftly stood up from her leather seat parallel to her tour manager.

Billie was called into the studio today to discuss a tour proposition brought forward by a rapper influencer named Adam Grandmaison, but most inside the music hemisphere referred to him simply as Adam22.

Billie’s tour manager leaned forward from his expensive computer chair, the fabric creaked as he brought himself up. “Listen…Billie I know you are…uummm…upset at this proposition but really this is a win win situation for all parties involved”.

Earlier in the day Adam22 brought forward a promised large sum of cash for Billie and her managers if she performed a world tour with Danielle Bregoli and Briana Bueno but most in the rap game referred to them as Bhad Bahbie and Baby Goth. The former of which being very materialistic, perpetually mentioning Gucci products as well as referencing violent behaviour (mostly) towards other women. The ladder being a much more emotional artist whilst still making mention to the ‘rapper lifestyle’. Billie Eilish knew all of this which was why she was so angry towards her manager. Billie was an self proclaimed ‘edgy’ artist, she preferred writing tracks in a much more depressing tone than Danielle or Briana would ever willingly write.

“You can’t fucking do this! I would rather die than play with those…those…whores!”. Billie complained.

“well im terribly sorry to do this to you Billie but you are contractually obligated by your label to perform under any condition they see fit. We have never been offered so much money to have you perform with another artist so they have already given me the green light. Im sorry”.

Billie scowled at the suited man before standing up, kicking her chair over in the process and storming out of her managers office, slamming the door as she left, causing several portraits on the manager’s desk to tip over.

“ *sigh* I think we need a backup plan” the tour manager spoke to himself whilst rubbing his eyes.

He picked up his cellphone and dialed a number, he brought the phone to his ear “yeah, she isn’t cooperating…you know what to do”.

Billie made her way back to her house without a hitch, she found it unusual that no one in that studio tried convincing her that performing with Bhad Bahbie and Baby Goth wasn’t such a bad thing.

“weird” Billie spoke to herself before laying down on her exquisite red sofa.

She began to drift off into a nap. Just before being able to fall asleep she heard the sound of glass smashing from the other side of her large household.

“hello!?” Billie yelled, her voice echoing throughout her mansion.

She slowly got off her couch and crept towards the source of the noise. She entered the corridor of her kitchen. Shattered glass could be seen scattered across the checkered marble floor. After Billie took in the strange occurrence she noticed something on her bar, a folded piece of paper. Billie approached the paper with caution, glass crunching under her socked feet as she proceeded. She picked up the paper and unfolded it. An advertisement for her world tour with Bhad Bahbie and Baby Goth. The graphic featured a stylized representation of her name as well as Bhad Bahbie’s and Baby Goth’s name next to each other below Billie’s title. The backdrop of the poster shamelessly displayed a picture of Danielle and Goth posing next to each other with one arm behind their heads and one hand on their hip with said hip cocked to the side in a sassy manner. Billie scoffed at the shameless advertisement.

All of a sudden an arm came from behind Billie and wrapped around her neck, by the time she registered her situation the kidnapper already had a cloth of chloroform firmly against her face, she was barely given a chance to struggle before she drifted off.

Billie slowly came back to consciousness, she was barely able to lift her eyelids or straighten out her neck. A mysterious man in front of her lightly slapped her across the face a few times to try and jog her out of her dreamy state. Once Billie was able to open her eyes a little more she noticed the hand smacking her looked very familiar, the tattoos displayed across the fingers and knuckle were unmistakable.

“Adam…?” Billie spoke, still being in a groggy state.

“Haha, there you are!” Adam22 clapped his hands in celebration, which in turn brought the silver haired pop star to full attention.

Her vision became less blurry and was finally able to see every detail clearly, from Adam’s peach fuzz to his Lil Peep tribute tattoo proudly displayed on one side of his face. Once Billie’s concentration returned she spit directly in Adam’s eye, causing him to drop his joint.

“fuck!” Adam22 winced and backed off from the pop star.

He walked over to a long fold out buffet table to Billie’s immediate right to grab a napkin to wipe away the saliva. It was at that moment Billie noticed two girls in far left corner of the room, sitting in fold out chairs and getting high. It was Bhad Bahbie and Baby Goth. As clear as day Billie could see them happily passing off a thick blunt to each other, giggling with glee from the euphoria being received. Billie scoffed, obviously being put off from the bimbos before her. Adam returned to Billie’s view, his eye being noticeably red and veiny from washing the pop star’s spit out. Billie defiantly turned away from the tattooed man, pretending he wasn’t there.

Adam violently grabbed the silver haired girl by her neck and forced her to look at him. “you listen to me…we do this the easy way…or the hard way”.

Billie leaned her neck back and swung it forward, head-butting Adam and causing him to fall backwards. Danielle and goth erupted into a fit of laughter, Briana even fell out of her black folding seat and began rolling on the floor, much to Adam’s dismay. The tattooed man got up again, the right side of his forehead lightly dripping blood. Adam rubbed the blood on his head with a napkin and approached Billie again.

“I guess this is happening the hard way” Adam22 chuckled at the fright growing in the silver haired pop star’s eyes.

Adam stomped over to the door of the room and opened it, the hallway was pitch black. All of a sudden Billie could hear feint squeaking of what sounded like to be rusty joints on wheels. It got louder and louder until a metal cart could be seen materializing out of blackness of the hallway. A very sexy nurse was guiding the cart into the room, Billie could swear she looked familiar but the surgical mask she was wearing ruined any chance for the white haired teen to notice her real identity.

Billie was sweating by this point, many images appeared in her mind of what the nurse would do to her, she kept saying to herself in her head “this is gonna end up just like Saw”.

   It was grandiose in its architecture, simplistic yet overstated at the same time. It was all in the arches. Like walking into the Parthenon in its heyday, you get overcome by the perceived devotion of the whole place. You felt a little at home but your young wife looked unnerved, like a cat after it’s tail is stepped on. Her right hand was dug into her purse, thumbing her father’s antique silver pocket watch, a persistent habit she had since you’d known her. It wasn’t every day that you got her to agree to a Vegas vacation. However, you are determined to get her to loosen up just a little bit finally. “Don’t be nervous honey. It’s just a casino, just a bunch of old guys feeding quarters into slots, a few blackjack tables, nothing to worry about,” you say. “I’m not scared of gambling, I’m scared of you putting us back in my parent’s basement because you can’t control yourself,” she said. “Oh come on, that was only for a month between jobs. Don’t be nervous, I’ve got a system that’ll make us a mint. Did you read that book I got you?”“That dumb poker book? I thumbed through it a little on the drive, there’re too many rules for me.”“Your loss, I’ll be making us rich at the slot machine’s, wanna come?”“No thanks, sweetie. I can already feel the cancer cells growing here in the entryway, I’ll just go over and have something at one of these restaurants. Try not to send us to welfare just yet, ok sweetie?”“So little faith, I won’t get too deep don’t worry. Try not to spend too much on food.”“I won’t, love you, babe.”“love you too.”

   There was a glint of disappointment in your eyes as she left you behind to fritter away your pocket change, much more than she may have approved of but you have finally managed to get her here and no amount of her perfect ass swaying indignantly could deter you from hopefully earning a tidy sum. The first moment is always the most trying, each machine could be so close to giving a payout that it would be foolish to bypass it, therein lied the trap of such places. You weave through the carefully arranged machines, each one a trap in its own right, many already ensnaring dedicated individuals feeding the house coin after coin, their hands moving unconsciously on the faint hope that the next time would be different, and you were eager to join them.

   It always begins so innocently, a quarter here, a dollar there, but now three hours later your hands are emptier than when you started. You hadn’t lost too much, only two hundred eighty-five dollars and seventy-five cents, just about fifty dollars over your self-imposed “limit.” Not a terrible first evening, best to stop now though and save yourself from your wife’s unforgiving cold shoulder. There seem to be even more people occupying the machines currently, already a queue formed for your own as you collect your leather coat. A wrinkled hand already grabs the seat as you leave it, already placing a quarter in as images of the Terminator flashed on screen. You aren’t looking forward to meeting her empty-handed as you navigate through the carefully placed rows of gambling screens.

   You get a little worried as you search through the Italian place near the entrance, Italian was always her favorite but there was no sign of her. Granted you did spend quite a bit of time on the slot machine, but she would’ve called or told you or something before she went to the hotel room. The maitre’d was no help at all, “Sorry, ain’t seen nothin like that, and I got an eye for a ladies ass too.” You continue to look through the perimeter of eating establishments, but not a single person had seen her, the thought happily crossing your mind that she might have finally tried her hand at a little gambling. You return to the acrid air of the main floor, not seeing her at any of the typical machines. You venture in further towards the roulette and blackjack tables, hoping that she hadn’t become too bold. This was where the younger crowd found themselves, the younger people were much more risk-oriented and emboldened by online “fool-proof” methods to make millions off the foolish owners. You search table after table but there was no sign of your wife anywhere, the lump in your throat grew larger and heavier, your movements becoming a little more panicked. Your hands wring themselves inside your coat pockets until you spot a simple short haircut in a room at the side of the hall. Your lump vanishes and your legs begin wading their way to her when the sign above the entrance comes into view and the lump returns in earnest, “High Stakes Games.”

   ‘No way, no way that’s her,’ you think but as you get closer the details only confirm that it is, mostly anyway. Her ass was the most familiar thing, it was pert and just barely taxed her jeans, her sweater was the same color and style, and her purse was slung over the back of her chair. But something about the fit of her sweater was off, it almost looked as if it was being pulled around her back, the thin material let you see the contours of her muscles. The closer you got, the more apparent this difference was. You were less than ten feet away now and you could clearly see that this was indeed your wife, but not quite as you remember her. The main difference being that she was gambling in earnest, and her breasts were huge!

   She was so engrossed in the game that she didn’t notice you arrive at her side. Your eyes were glued to her, what had to be fake, breasts. The glistened slightly in the dim light and you can spot several places where the thin sweater had lost the fight with elasticity.  Her nipples were ridged and left little to the imagination, nor did the entirety of the upper half of her ample flesh. She bore more cleavage than some pornstars you were aware of, the only woman you knew who had breasts like that was your own mother. She lovingly referred to them as “the family curse,” and it was hard to argue, without fail every woman on your mother’s side of the family was gifted with an incredible chest during the puberty years.

   “Fold,” one of the people at the table said followed quickly by another. Of the five at the table only two remained in the game, one of which was your wife. The other was a Woman, not much older than you. She was dressed well, an Italian suit hugging her supple body everywhere, except for her chest where it hung loosely as if it had been sized for a much larger woman. There was a palpable tension in the air when the Woman laid her cards down and revealed three queens, “Three of a kind,” she said with calculated enthusiasm. Your wife did nothing, then smiled as she laid her hand out, revealing a king, an eight, a six, a four, and a two, all hearts. “Flush.”

   The atmosphere was quite, you wanted to leap for joy but you held back, awaiting the chance to see your wife’s winnings. However, no chips were pulled in towards her. Instead, you watch as the Woman looks like she’s lowering herself in her seat. You are confused only a moment until you hear a tear from your wife’s side. You turn to see her rising in her chair, and a gash in her skinny jeans growing as her perfect ass grows outward. “Babe? Oh my god! You won’t believe what happened! Look at me, isn’t it incredible?” She asked you as you process this new information. It sounds like she’s speaking form underwater as she tells you about how she found herself here, the cost of the game, and its rewards.

   The three that folded all get up quietly and leave, the Woman who just lost the hand preparing to do so herself. Your wife sits back down, “Hold on, I’m not done yet.”“Well I am, you learn when to quit in this line of work.”“What? Come on, you don’t want your tits back?”“Sorry, I wasn’t too fond of the back problems anyway, and you don’t have anything else I want right now. Unless you wanna put him on the table, I think I’ll take my leave.”“Well, what if I do?” Your wife says. The Woman pauses, considering her loses and what she might gain.“What’s your bet?”“His muscles.” You begin to catch on, only far too late. “Um, sweetie? What are you doing?”“Just the muscles? Not worth the buy-in, no offense. Now if you wanted to put up his masculinity, all of it, then I might be interested.” Without a seconds hesitation your wife, a fire you hadn’t seen before in her eyes, said “Deal.”

   “What the hell are you talking about? What about my masculinity?” You say in protest, but the words fall on deaf ears. The cards are already being shuffled and distributed. The dealer limply saying “The buy-in is one item of great importance.” Your confusion is self-evident on your face as the Woman removes an old baseball card from her purse, it looked like Babe Ruth signed it. With no hesitation your wife removes from her purse her father’s silver pocket watch and places it in the middle of the table, accompanied by what looks like a picture of her mother and father, and her wedding ring. “What are you doing? Listen, I’m not exactly sure what’s happening here, but you can’t bet all that stuff! It’s not worth it,” you say. Your wife responds with a curt “ssshhh!”

   Every muscle in your ass was tensed as you watch the exchange of chips before you, like the construction of some grand city in a time-lapse video. You try searching for any tells in either your wife or her opponent, but you come up short. You never had any inclination as to how good she could’ve been at poker, else you might have dragged her here sooner. The full weight of the precariousness of the game, and its outcome, were still murky to you but the excitement was more tangible with each passing second. All the subtly came to an end when the opponent pushed every single chip to the fore and declared with sick confidence “All in.” Your wife seemed all too eager to reply in kind and you feared the table would crack under the weight of this moment. Your wife made the first move and laid down a stunning hand, a straight flush. Her opponent ground her teeth, and laid down a row of hearts, and a royal flush.

   “Too bad, newbie. Maybe next time,” the Woman said as she stood. Your wife looked crushed. Your hand holds her shoulder, she refused to make eye contact with you. “Don’t worry honey, it isn’t so bad. At least you didn’t lose a bunch of money. I’m sure your dad would understand, probably. Now how about we get those fake breasts off of you and fix your pants. Why are you wearing that stuff anyway?” You ask. The answer comes in a wave of nausea and a sensation of loss. Your legs feel like stone and a pit forms in your stomach as though you hadn’t eaten in days. As the energy drains from your body, you feel your wife’s hands holding you upright. Through your listless eyes it looks as though she were standing on something, your gaze rarely met her clavicle unless she was on the stairs. Your jacket begins to feel heavy and gravity pulls it to the floor. Your entire body feels as though you spent yesterday working a twenty-hour shift as a laborer. Your clothes feel light, especially your shirt and the seat of your pants. Once again you can vaguely make out the voice of your wife, and she sounds like she’s arguing with a man. Your feel so drained, it’s almost impossible to make out just what they’re saying, but you feel a rougher hand on your arm helping your wife carry you back into the casino.

   The air is still acrid, as it is every day. No amount of air conditioning seems to help it. The smile on your face feels so painful, the fact that it is nearly required only makes it more so. As you lay down a non-alcoholic gin and tonic, you turn to leave just for a wrinkled hadn’t to grab a fistful of your ass. You pull away quickly, never once breaking your smile. You return to the service area and from behind you hear, “Sweetie?”“Don’t talk to me.” You say, your customary response for the past week.“Oh come on, it wasn’t like I planned this or anything,” your wife says.“Do I look like I care if it was planned or not? Look at what you did to me! I can’t go five seconds without getting groped by one of these old pervs!” You say as loudly as you can while being respectfully quite at the same time. Your hair is about the only thing that has remained unchanged. Your face had become nothing less than adorable, a cute button nose and high cheekbones, plus your delicate chin added an immediately bubbly quality to you. Your voice was not quite in the tea-kettle range but was still high pitched and sweet to the ear. You truly understood what your mother meant by “curse” as your expanded chest eclipsed your wife’s new set by a wide margin. The annoying things never seemed to stay still and it always seemed like the moved about even when you were still. Your ass may not be ass impressive as your wife’s, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a genuine flaw in it anywhere. It pained you still to think about the loss of your member, but the memory was impossible to avoid. All that you are now is wrapped inside a much too small bunny-girl outfit that displayed an ungodly amount out cleavage and more ass than, even before, you thought would’ve been comfortable. Your wife wore the exact same outfit, in all its unfitting glory.

   “I know, I know I screwed up. But I just figured I’d try a game and how was I supposed to know it was a magic game? At least the Woman gave us a job since you can’t exactly use your old ID’s.” You could hardly call her a Woman anymore. Her change had been just as dramatic as yours, she had lean muscles, a chiseled jaw, and most concerning of all, it was nearly impossible for you not to notice her huge, barely contained— “Hello ladies, everything coming along well today?”“Yes Mr. Temric,” the both of you said in unison. Your cheeks took on a touch of pink as he looked at you, a heat built inside that you were getting accustomed to. “Swell, make sure you collect those tips, ladies. And don’t worry, you’ll have enough for another game in about four months. I’ll be waiting,” he said with a wink. The heat in your cheeks, and elsewhere, stayed with you as he left. Your wife seemed to have a similar reaction, which soured your disposition quickly. You grab a new tray of drinks and plaster on your smile. “Next time, I’m gonna play,” you say as you tense both sets of cheeks for another round.

   Today was the day. The last day I would be called “flatsy patsy”, “shorty”, or just plain old “cute”. I have been at four feet even for my entire adult life. I still remember all the teasing from my high school classmates and my college colleagues. And I remember every day my mother telling me that my growth spurt was right around the corner. Well, it took about twenty years but she was about to be right.

   I strolled up to Galaxy Girls at five thirty, prime hours for a busty young dancer. I can feel the breeze kicked around by the cars travel up my coat and exhilarate me even more. My hand drifts up to my decorated ear and tries to give it a nervous pinch, a holdover from childhood, but I control myself in time. Not yet, but soon. The bouncer gives me a funny look, I suppose it’s not often he sees women bundled up in a long coat during the summer. He waves me in all the same though and at once the smell, sight and obnoxious sounds hit me as I step through the gateway.

   It’s like they’re all taunting me as they bump their hips and swing their fat tits about in grateful men’s faces. I even recognize a few familiar faces as they fling away their bras and kitschy costumes. There was Grace, the old head cheerleader, she didn’t look a day over twenty despite us being the same age. It wasn’t exactly like no-one expected her to wind up here, she flirted from boy to boy in school and left hardly any time for learning. She still sported her impossible to miss rack. Then there was actually Bethany, that was a genuine surprise. I remember her being so quiet, so focused and so artistic. She was already making inroads with the art community before she graduated, what was she doing here? Probably for the “life experience” to help bolster some project. Well too bad for her.

   There were other girls there, prime targets, but Grace and Bethany were going to be a special treat. I kept a low profile, not a difficult task for someone my height, and crept along the back wall to a quiet corner. There I let my coat fall to the filthy floor, my outfit beneath looking like no more than a bundle of loose leather. But that was all going to change. I took in my last breath as a shorty, it tasted somewhat salty. Then my hand took hold of my new earring and, just like that woman said in her shop, I focused on my first target and held on.

   Tanya was a bit of a stereotypical blonde at times, but no one could say she didn’t focus on her work. She was entertaining a typical john, balding hair, bad taste in clothes, but as long as his money was green it didn’t matter and she gave him the best show he had ever seen. This was about the third time she had serviced this one in a week, he was always polite and never got handsy. She had decided to give him a little treat for his good behavior. She rested her knees on the arms of his chair, raised her ass and place her face near his crotch. She could see the tense little thing struggle to free itself as she lifted her face along his torso, allowing her full breasts to drag along his pants and over his slight beer belly. Tanya wasn’t one to brag, but her chest was so massive she hardly needed to be within a foot to accomplish this feat. However, she noticed that she was having to lean forward for more than normal. By the time she was face to face with him, her lips were barely two inches away from his own. Her bra was usually so tight that when she pulled it her breasts out it still dug into her underboob, but she could feel the thin fabric hang free. Add to that the look of confusion on the man’s face, that was enough to convince her to look at her new B-cup beauties.

   Diana was working the pole when she twisted her head to see Tanya scream as she ran into the changing room, and security escorting out another guy playing innocent. She had wanted to go and embrace the poor girl, but she couldn’t let herself be distracted a moment from her work. She dipped low, presenting each intimate curve of her splendid ass teased inside star-spangled underwear. Her ebony hair flipped to reveal alabaster skin and a red-hued smile and a golden tiara encircling her brow. Her signature bustier had long since been flung off, her naked chest laid bare for all to see. It had taken her some convincing to be in such a seedy place and in such a vulgar position for a stakeout, but the urgency in Batman’s voice had convinced her. Besides, if the intelligence she acquired here could put a notorious arms dealer in prison for the rest of his life then Wonder Woman could take it. The only issue was that the arms dealer hadn’t frequented his “favorite place” in over a month, and if Diana was honest she was beginning to enjoy the dancing. The tips weren’t bad either.

   Diana was in the middle of performing her signature move, a 360-degree spin using a single arm, a feat only she with her superhuman strength was capable of when she extended her legs for her dismount and was unable to find the floor. She was taken aback and lost her grip on the pole, falling flat on her ass. Such an occurrence would normally just be a cause for flushed cheeks and a dismissive smile, but the Amazon warriors ass normally provided much more shock absorption. This time, however, she could feel her hips pinch her skin between the floor. Not only that, but the stiletto heel version of her boots had been flung to the other side of the room. Her humiliation grew when she realized that the breeze on her now boney ass was much greater and discovered that her panties had slid down to her bare feet. In her confusion, she took a much higher step than normal down to the floor and nearly tumbled on her face. The undercover super-heroine gathered her feet under her and looked up at the stage when she never needed to before. She absentmindedly bombed into one of her regulars, but instead of her cleavage in his face, her face was barely above his crotch. Realization overcame her that somehow she now not only had the figure of a preteen but now was only four feet tall at the most. Worried that she had been made by her target and this was some sort of bizarre retribution, she quickly ran back into the changing room to call for an extraction.

   It had been a profitable day for Grace and Bethany. Two of the best dancers in the club, besides them of course, had just abruptly left the floor. It wasn’t much cause for concern though, they had made a mint because of it. At least they thought they had. Their shift was finally over and they pair were walking back to the changing rooms when a very large pair of hands landed on their shoulders. “Hello, Ladies,” a vaguely familiar and very loud voice said. The two girls were spun around and before them stood a towering woman. She had to be at least seven feet tall, and her breasts looked almost as big as watermelons. All she wore for clothing looked like a huge catsuit made of leather straps draw very tightly. “What’s the matter? Can’t recognize little old Flatsy Patsy now?” Grace was the first to see her schoolmate in the large woman’s face. “Dana?!”“That’s right, squirt. And I’m not even close to done yet.” Dana reached up and grabbed her ear and from Grace and Bethany’s point of view, she was starting to get even bigger. Dana wasn’t growing any larger, the patrons of the strip club, however, were all gaining several inches as the two girls dwindled. Before they had even realized the pair was now a measly three and a half feet tall. Their figures looked hilariously out of proportion as they fought to maintain balance with their enormous tits and asses on their diminutive frames. “Sorry, Ladies. Still not done.” She continued to hold her ear as the girls found that their center of balance was no longer a problem. Grace’s proud breasts vanished as Bethany’s rotund ass disappeared, then they got a taste of each other’s pain. The childish looking women could only stand there as the reality of their situation hit home.

   “Now if you’ll excuse me, my adoring public awaits!” Dana said as she turned away from her victims. It only took her three steps to cross the room to the pole and the elevated stage was barely more than a step. When her fingers latched onto the cool metal pole she felt a renewed sense of self take hold. It only deepened when she sandwiched the pole with her titanic tits. She nibbled her lips lightly as she made love to the audience with it. She thought to herself, “I wonder what the record is for tips here?”

The End. Hope Y’all like it!