#slutification

“It’s called The Word Game,” Lex announced, holding up a red Solo cup filled with folded cards and a roll of tape. “We each get a word taped to our backs. There’s only one rule: don’t say your word. You don’t know what yours is, but if you say it five times…” He let the suspense hang. “You lose.”

“What happens when you lose?” asked Ivy, raising an eyebrow.

Lex smirked. “You’ll see. Also? The game ends when someone hits five. One loser. Everyone else wins.”

Laughter rippled through the room. Drinks clinked. People leaned in a little closer.

As Mia carefully taped a card to Theo’s back, Fiona wandered behind Jess.  She reflexively wiped at her short, black bangs and peeked over her shoulder.

“‘Gazebo’?” she read, amused.

Then she caught Mia’s next: “‘Accordion.’”

And Theo’s: “‘Gargoyle.’”

She rolled her eyes. “These are so random. What even is this game—”

“Hold still,” Lex said, sliding behind her. 

She felt the slap of tape on her back. She didn’t see what was written, but everyone else did: IT.

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“Mine’s gotta be something dumb like ‘scallop,’” Jess said, sipping her drink.

“I think mine’s something impossible,” Theo added.

Fiona, meanwhile, was chatting with Mia near the hallway. “Okay, so let me get this straight, we all just, like, talk normal? Until we accidentally say it?”

DING.

Her tank top pulled just a bit tighter across her chest. The mesh sleeves hugged her arms more snugly. Her gothy pixie cut suddenly looked… longer. Softer. Her bangs fluffed out ever so slightly. Her lips plumped a touch, her lashes fluttering with a bit more volume.

She blinked, touched her forehead.

“Huh. Weird… I feel kinda off.”

“Don’t say that again,” Mia warned softly, eyes darting to the card on Fiona’s back.

A breathy laugh escaped Fiona. She swayed slightly where she stood. Her hips had widened and her tank had climbed halfway up her stomach. Her hair now framed her jawline in choppy, tousled waves, brunette tones warming at the roots.

She spun in place, hands on her hips. “What did I say? You guys! What is it I’m not supposed to say?!”

DING.

“Okayy, that time I definitely felt something.”

Her shorts were visibly tighter now, clinging to a rounded, juicy ass that hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. Her black lipstick had faded into a glossy rose. Her pixie cut had become a voluminous bob, layers softening around her face. Her once-severe makeup looked fresher, flirtier.

“I think this game’s, like, broken or whatever,” she giggled, tugging playfully at her top.

Across the room, Riley leaned in to Theo.

“That’s two.”

“She has no idea,” Theo whispered.

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In the kitchen, Fiona poured herself a drink with one hand, the other drifting absentmindedly between her thighs. Her top had morphed into a low-cut and white crop top. Her dark eyeliner was mostly gone, leaving behind smoky eyes and fluttering blonde lashes. Her nails were now almond-shaped and glossy. Her lips were full and slick with pink gloss.

She caught her reflection in the window and smiled. Then struck a pose.

“Okay, seriously though, what even is it that ends the game?”

DING.

She gasped softly, her back arching. Her breasts surged forward, visibly larger, and heavier.  Her body responded with a subtle, involuntary shudder of pleasure. Her hips flared again, her waist carved down tighter. Her hair lightened another few shades, the soft brown giving way to a full sun-kissed blonde.

Ivy, standing nearby, watched in awe as Fiona casually reached up under her shirt and adjusted her cleavage. Her hands lingered far longer than necessary. Then Fiona turned and strutted back into the living room, her legs long and tanned, her ass bouncing with every step. She dropped herself onto Riley’s lap without a word of warning.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she purred, gently grinding against him.

“N-Not at all,” Riley stammered.

That was three.

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Fiona sat texting with one hand, the other lazily rubbing the inside of her thigh. She bit her lip at the sensations running through her body.

“So like,” she said to no one in particular, “when’s the game over? What happens when someone hits their limit? I hope it isn’t too bad.”

DING.

This time, her moan was loud, unmistakable. She pressed her legs together and gasped, as her body shuddered.

She turned to Ivy with a dazed, sultry look. “Is anyone else, like, super horny right now?”

Her tits were barely contained in her top. She slithered over to Noah and threw her legs across his lap. Giggling, her fingers played with the hem of her shirt.

“I think I want to fuck you.”

Noah froze as Fiona stood, taking his hand and tugging him to his feet.

“So like, are we done?” she asked, spinning slowly in place. “Cuz honestly, I really wanna fuck somebody. I’m, like, soooo horny and my body’s all tingly.”

She turned to Noah, lips parted, eyes wild. “You want it too, right?”

DING. DING. DING. DING. DING.

The final chimes rang out like a victory bell.

Everyone looked around, wondering what happened next.

A rush of warmth swept over Fiona. She shuddered and gasped, knees buckling slightly. Her shorts cinched up tighter one final time, practically vanishing beneath a gauzy cream-colored wrap. Her top shimmered into a white lace halter, pulling her massive tits together in a perfect, jaw-dropping V. Her hair fell around her shoulders in glamorous, golden curls. Her full sleeve of tattoos sparkled with fresh ink.

She tugged the straps down, letting her chest bounce free without a second thought.

“Oh. My. God,” she moaned. “Why didn’t anyone tell me how hot I was?”

“You lost,” Lex said, smiling as the app reset.

Fiona blinked, then giggled. “Did I?” she asked. She wrapped her body around Noah and gave him a deep kiss. Then she broke the kiss and fell into the nearest guy’s lap and started grinding against him with slow, teasing rolls of her hips. “Oopsie. Guess that means you all win, huh?”

They itch to be touched and squished and handled, to the point that you can barely sleep. You're bursting out of your shirts now, the strained fabric only irritating the red-hot swell. There's no way you can sleep on your stomach anymore, but lying on your back just feeds the fire, exposes the itch to every teasing lick of breeze. Every time you give in and scratch the ache, they grow a little bigger – and the relief you get is weaker and lasts less every time. Soon your own hands aren't going to cut it anymore. How long before your mind is gone, supplanted and devoured by your ever-larger, throbbing mounds? How long before you're feverishly begging strangers to touch and squish and fondle your new tits?

A “I’ll have what she’s having” Tale

“I’m so scared but I have to tell you.” Gina’s hands were trembling as she clutched the edge of the diner booth, the neon sign outside flickering like a bad omen. Ryan raised an eyebrow, stirring his coffee with that infuriating casualness of his. “Dude, just spit it out. Did you accidentally set my D&D figurines on fire again?”

“No this is worse but you have to promise you’ll believe me.” Her voice cracked on the word believe. Ryan leaned forward, the teasing glint fading—because Gina never cracked.

“Nothing can be worse than losing a D&D figurine.” Ryan joked weakly but his expression faltered when he saw her eyes flash crimson for half a second.

“I think—no, I know—I’m a succubus.” She whispered, and the air between them thickened like syrup. Ryan’s coffee spoon clattered against the porcelain as his entire body stiffened. Gina braced herself for disgust, for rejection, for him to bolt—but Ryan just exhaled sharply and said, “Okay. How can I possibly believe this?” His voice was hoarse but steady. “Prove it.”

“Can’t you just be my best friend and believe me?” Gina whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the jukebox playing in the corner. She looked so small then—not like some demonic seductress, but like the same girl who’d once cried over a failed calculus exam in his dorm room. Ryan swallowed hard, his fingers twitching toward her before stopping himself. “Gina, you weigh ninety pounds soaking wet, you wear glasses held together with tape, and you once hyperventilated because a librarian shushed you. You’re basically the nerdy bestie from a YA novel.” His attempt at humor fell flat as her eyes welled up.

“I’ve been having these really vivid dreams.” Gina’s fingers traced the condensation on her water glass, avoiding Ryan’s gaze. “Like, so realistic I wake up sweating. And it’s not just dreams—it’s like my body’s wired differently now. I can’t even look at someone without… imagining things.” She bit her lip hard enough to leave a mark, her cheeks flushing as the confession tumbled out. Ryan’s breath hitched, his grip tightening around his coffee cup until his knuckles turned white.

“It’s like all I want is to suck a dick. My mind is like some dirty porno 24/7.” Gina blurted before clapping a hand over her mouth in horror. The words were out before she could stop them—raw, unfiltered, and burning with truth. Ryan choked on his coffee, coughing violently as his ears turned scarlet. “Jesus Christ, Gina,” he wheezed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The diner’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating the way her pupils dilated like black holes.

“Ryan please let me suck your dick. I feel like I’m going crazy!” Gina practically whined, her fingers digging into the cheap vinyl seat as her thighs squeezed together. The confession hung between them like a live wire—too dangerous to touch but impossible to ignore. Ryan’s chair scraped back an inch as if his body was instinctively retreating even as his pupils blew wide. “Gina, what the actual fuck—”

“Look you either drop your pants now or I’m fucking jumping you!” Gina hissed, her voice guttural and strange—nothing like her usual nervous stammer. Her glasses slipped down her nose as something twitched beneath her skin, a pulse of dark energy rolling off her in waves. Ryan recoiled instinctively, but his breath came ragged when her knee slid across the booth to press against his thigh. “Gina, you’re not thinking straight—” His protest died as she vanished beneath the table with unnatural speed, the clatter of her chair drawing glances from nearby patrons.

The sudden heat of her fingers fumbling at his belt buckle made Ryan’s stomach drop. A choked noise escaped him as Gina yanked his jeans down just enough, her breath hot through the fabric of his boxers before she mouthed him greedily. The wet sound of her sucking him through the cotton was obscenely loud—or maybe that was just the blood roaring in his ears. His hips jerked involuntarily as she finally freed him, her tongue dragging a filthy stripe up his shaft before swallowing him whole.

“Holy shit Gina! We’re in p… Ungh!” Ryan’s voice cracked as Gina hollowed her cheeks, her lips forming a perfect seal around him despite never having done this before—her movements instinctive yet precise, like her body had been waiting her whole life for this moment. His fingers tangled in her hair as she bobbed with unnatural rhythm, her tongue doing things that made his vision blur, each slurp and moan vibrating against his cock in ways that defied virgin awkwardness. The neon diner lights swam above him as her throat opened effortlessly around his length, her nose pressing against his pelvis with zero gag reflex—which absolutely shouldn’t have been possible for someone who’d panicked over swallowing an aspirin last week.

Ryan came down her throat with a strangled groan, hips stuttering as she swallowed every drop without spilling a single one—her suction never faltering even as his cock twitched violently against her tongue. Gina pulled back with an obscene pop, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she emerged from under the table, her glasses askew and lips swollen. Her irises burned crimson again, pupils slit like a predator’s as she licked her lips. “I so needed that. It tastes so good.” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Ryan barely had time to process what just happened before Gina’s sweater stretched audibly at the seams, the fabric straining as her breasts swelled beneath it—rounder, fuller, the nipples visibly hardening against the wool. She gasped, hands flying to her chest as the buttons popped open one by one, revealing cleavage that definitely hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago. “Oh fuck oh fuck it’s just like my dream—” she whimpered, staring down at herself in horrified fascination as her breasts continued to grow, the weight of them pulling her forward slightly until she had to brace herself against the table.

“It feels so good.” Gina groaned, her breath hitching as her ass pressed against the diner booth with sudden, impossible weight—the vinyl creaking under the abrupt expansion of her hips. Her skirt strained at the seams as her backside swelled outward, the fabric tightening obscenely around curves that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Ryan gaped, his softening cock twitching against his thigh as he watched her body morph in real time, the way her waist nipped in just enough to accentuate the new, lush flare of her hips. Gina whimpered, fingers digging into her own thickening thighs as if she could somehow stop the transformation, but the moan that spilled from her lips betrayed how much she loved it.

Her hair tumbled down her shoulders in glossy waves—bright red strands lengthening by the second until they brushed the small of her back, thick and heavy with unnatural vitality. The angles of her face softened into something predatory yet gorgeous, her lips plumping without lipstick until they looked perpetually kiss-swollen. Ryan’s throat went dry as her glasses slid off entirely, her once-nerdy features now sharpened into devastating symmetry—high cheekbones, long lashes, a jawline that could cut glass. “Oh god,” Gina gasped, running her tongue over her new teeth—perfectly white, except for the faintest hint of fang. “Ryan, I can taste you in my saliva. It’s—fuck, it’s making me wetter.”

“Holy shit.” Ryan breathed, watching Gina’s transformation with a mix of horror and fascination—and then outright panic when she suddenly grabbed his wrist with inhuman strength, her fingers scorching hot against his skin. “We need to leave right now.” Gina growled, her voice dropping into a register that vibrated straight down his spine. “Because if I don’t fuck you in the next ten minutes, I’m going to explode.” Her nails dug into his flesh as her hips jerked forward involuntarily, the wet spot on her skirt growing obscenely visible. Ryan’s cock twitched back to full hardness so fast it hurt, his brain short-circuiting at the sheer desperation in her voice—the way her pupils were blown so wide her irises looked like thin rings of fire.

“Excuse me?” A woman’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. Ryan turned to see a brunette in a leather jacket hovering by their booth, her gaze locked onto Gina’s transformed body with unsettling intensity. “Whatever she just had,” the woman murmured, licking her lips as she took in Gina’s swollen curves and flushed skin, “I would like to order one.”

The heroine tries to talk to her, to get her to snap out of their enchantment, but it's too strong. She assumes that they must be torturing her, making her experience hell inside her own mind/body as it fights like a puppet.

The demons reveal that in fact the better she fights and the more commands she fulfils for her new mistress, the more pleasure floods her body, which they've reconfigured to need a much higher level of pleasurable stimulation in order to function. They've been very careful to make sure she's always seeking out more ways to feel good, to have others provide the cocktail of delicious chemicals she needs to function. Especially since they made sure she wouldn't be able to get that pleasure on her own.

Stopping her from the constant orgasmic rush of their benevolence could kill her from the shock to her system, now.

So, of course, the heroine should surrender, should let her friend pin her down and rip the magic out of her to gift to the dark queen, and join her in servitude.

But the heroine can't accept that-- not after leaping back out of range, panting and breathless, and watches her friend spin around to drop to her knees. Not while she could hear the lewd, wet sounds of her friend's throat being used... Surely it's a lie, or surely there's some way to break the spell...

So she ends up managing to kidnap her friend, steal her back to their magical fortress to try and break the magic binding her, heal her of the demonic influence.

It's only when her friend's heart starts failing and she screams in agony that the magical heroine swallows her morals and shyness and pins her friend's hips down long enough to start fingering her and rubbing her clit.

The demons told her, after all, that her friend's body needed pleasure to function now... She didn't see any reason why it had to be from whatever perverted magic they used.

Her friend's screams turn to moans, for a time, but the relief doesn't last-- isn't enough.

The heroine hasn't done this before, not with another girl, only fumbled around in her own bed in the dead of night, but she's... read things. Seen things online.

She's surprised by how good it feels to grope her friend's chest, the heavy swell of her chest so much more than her own meagre handfuls, and the way her friend's nipple throbs against her tongue as she takes it into her mouth and sucks sends a shiver down her spine.

It doesn't hurt that, with her other hand still three-fingers deep in her friend's dripping pussy, she can feel how she squirts from that stimulation.

When she hears her closest companion breathily gasp her name, the heroine feels herself cum in turn, surprised at the intensity of the feeling that followed that simple call, one she'd heard so many other times. Between laughs while they were joking around off-duty, yelled in warning during a battle, exasperated when she was found exhausting herself after taking on too many responsibilities...

Well, this was one more that she would have to take up. And no one would stop her this time.

It takes time and some hastily ordered toys before they can get to anything approaching normalcy...

Multiple egg vibrators stuffed inside her holes, and a remote controlled vibrating piercing through her clit combine with a rotating cast of nipple suckers, piercings, breast pumps, weights, and clamps.

And, of course, dildos, and strap on harnesses, and a plug-in wand when they were in bed.

They were considering the logistics of how to install some kind of fucking machine.

While her friend-- girlfriend? it was still kind of unclear where those boundaries lay-- did regain most of her mind, her memories, her control... no matter what cleansing magic they tried, she still needed near-constant pleasure.

And her time among the demon hordes meant it was still so natural for her to just start begging for it, or humping things, or dropping to her knees to have someone (anyone) use her. Beyond the embarrassment, the disgusted or pitying or incredulous looks of people who encountered them before she could get them both away somewhere quiet to take care of things herself... it was becoming more and more tempting to just give in.

Let her friend get used-- she was literally asking people for it, after all.

Or the way sometimes she found herself turning down the strength of the vibrators just a little, and then later a little more, until she could see her friend's growing desperation, and it fuelled a growing, sadistic little ball of heat inside her.

When there was a giant monster attack just outside the city centre, she knew she couldn't be distracted during the fight, so she chanced it by stopping by one of the shadier adult stores they'd visited while out of uniform. It didn't take much convincing for the manager to help her install her friend at one of the gloryholes-- this one big enough to fit her friend's ass through, with her bent over a cushioned bench-- and post to the various online groups and forums and email chains they were part of that there was a free use slut available for all.

It probably should have made her pause to see the manager taking her cock out and stroking it before slipping inside her friend's pussy to start mercilessly fucking her, but there was no more time, she had to go handle the monster.

By the time she finished the fight (a faster victory than she normally managed, a feral sort of violence taking hold throughout), she was jittery and pent up.

Her magical wings carried her back to the adult store on gleaming contrails of light, and she didn't care who saw as she shoved the door open roughly and pushed her way through the line that waited for their chance at the captive slut in the next room.

The heroine would almost (but not quite) cum on the spot, seeing her closest companion reduced to such a cheap toy, mindlessly seeking pleasure from who or whatever would give it to her, by whatever means necessary.

Gone was the disgust and fear and trepidation when she'd first found out what had happened to her best friend so many months ago, now all she could think was that it was her turn to use her toy.

Whatever subconscious desires or prowess of control managed to transform her wand into a magical strap-on weren't pondered, though she appreciated the end result, and especially with how thick the thing was.

She almost managed to feel bad as she stretched her friend's well-fucked cunt out even more as she started railing her-- her friend's cries were muffled by the pussy she was currently being smothered by on the other side of the partition.

Later, she might have some sort of thought about the videos spreading across the web showing the foremost magical guardian of the area brutally fucking her former second-in-command in a dingy sex shop, other perverts pleasuring themselves and each other as they watched, or cautiously swapped out using her mouth, but at the time all she could think was yes, finally, mine.

When she pulled out, finally spent, the others there thought that would be it, that the fun show would be over, but instead the remaining spectators were told to go ahead and use her, until everyone was done.

And, well, if they had to slide a toy in alongside someone's cock, or two people used her at once, the moans of the person they were fucking never seemed diminished beyond whatever was filling their mouth...

The heroine would, eventually, discover that the source of growing headaches (that only lessened from fucking her slut toy) came from a pair of demonic horns pushing through her scalp... And she would think, and grieve, for a few moments, how things had changed... but when her next magical transformation came with a change in attire both darker and less modest, and her powers shifted to reflect her new nature, well. She couldn't find it in herself to care any more.

Dani adjusted her press badge and gave the bouncer a tight smile.

“Just here for a quick walk-through,” she said. “Piece on nightlife trends. Word is this place is… different.”

He waved her in without even asking for her credentials.

“Enjoy the story,” he said, stepping out of her way.

She stepped inside and the beat of the music hit her instantly. The place was crowded and electric with UV lights slicing through haze, bodies pressed close, and bass rumbling underfoot.

She smoothed her blazer with one hand and pulled out her phone with the other. Focus, she told herself.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun, professional and no-nonsense. Her light makeup was just enough for work. Under the blazer, she wore a white blouse with fitted navy pants and sensible heels.

The girls inside Club Spades shimmered. Their clothes clung to curves, or barely existed at all. They danced like they didn’t give a shit who was watching. Their bodies were dripping with sex.

God, Dani thought, scanning the crowd. Where do I even start?

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Kayla leaned against the railing, tits practically spilling out of her corset, her lips parted just enough to tease.

She looked wrecked and she knew it. Hair slightly tousled, pupils wide, thighs still trembling from the bathroom stall.

Somewhere in the crowd below, her boyfriend was probably still asking people if they’d seen her.

Poor idiot.

Fifteen minutes ago, she was arguing with him. Ten minutes ago, she was bent over a sink with her skirt hitched up and a stranger’s hand choking the life out of her while he fucked her like he owned her.

Now?

Now she scanned the floor like a predator.

“Where’s the next one?” she whispered, tongue flicking across her lips. Her pussy still throbbed, hungry for more.

Everywhere she looked, Black men danced, drank, laughed.

She wanted another stretched-out, drooling, leg-shaking fuck.

Kayla smiled.

“Round two,” she whispered, already descending the stairs.

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Shy and lazy? I feel that on such a personal level...

Luckily for you, I have just the trick. Go ahead and close your eyes, and we'll transport you somewhere...

You open up your eyes and are shocked at first to find yourself in the middle of a gym locker room, with a handful of naked musclemen standing around you. Their muscles glisten underneath the bright fluorescents of the locker room, making their musculature pop even more noticeably.

Before you can ask what's happening, you finally feel the immense weight on your entire body. You look down at yourself and hold back a loud gasp at the sheer expanse of muscle that you now possess.

Your body is now massive, looking like it should belong to a competitive bodybuilder. Everything about you was huge. Your arms were so large that they hung akimbo at your side, your biceps resting atop flaring lats. Your pecs were so heavy and cumbersome, feeling enormous and swole as they protruded far out in front of you. To act as a counterbalance, your glutes had expanded to a large degree, looking more like you were smuggling two soccer balls in your pants.

Your inspection was interrupted when you began to realize that the rest of the musclemen in the room were still staring at you, a hungry gaze int heir eyes.

On instinct, you felt yourself start to flex.

Without a thought on your side, you flexed your massive biceps, making the large muscle curl up with power, ellicitng cheers from the other men. You bounced your huge muscletits, letting the large mounds bounce up and down, jiggling with every movement.