#transform me

(Continued from here)

It had been a blur of a weekend. Dixie remembered bringing home the redhead from the bar, Rebecca, along with her friend Abigail. They had sex three times between the club closing and the morning, and Dixie remembered what Rebecca called her when she finally had to leave to get some actual sleep at Seven A.M. “Insatiable.”

She felt insatiable. There was just this drive she was struggling to ignore. They almost got to sleep when Abigail brushed up against Dixie’s chest, and she could not help herself. After the girls left, Dixie got a few hours of sleep before waking up horny. She played with herself in the bed, then in the shower, but by the late afternoon, she was finding herself having lewd thoughts about the people around her as she bought groceries.

Going to the club that night, Dixie did not wait to take people home. The dancing was driving her out of her mind; this level of blatant lust was new for her. She fucked a girl with freckles in the washroom and banged a guy with a flawless complexion in the coat room. And of course, she brought someone home with her by the end of the night. And by Sunday night, she could not recall any of their names. She was hungry again, though. She would have to go through her contact list and find someone to call at this rate...

You have the power to change my muse.

Nightwing watched from a rooftop, overlooking Bludhaven. It was a rare quiet night. It was also chilly, but that was less rare in January. Her suit was designed to keep her safe and keep her warm, so she could tune it out, but her red cheeks were making her wish she had taken after Bats and incorporated a cowl into her outfit.

A set of eyes from a nearby balcony spotted her, but Dixie was not threatened. She saw no weapons, and it was not like people did not know Nightwing was around.

A chill ran up Dixie’s back. It was a tingling, unexplainable feeling, but the next chill was easier to explain. Looking down, dumbfounded, Dixie watched as the pants of her suit seemingly disolved. Her boots crept higher up her calf to compensate, but not much. Instead, she watched fabric replaced by the transparency of fishnet stockings.

The fabric of her outfit, normally designed to protect her, thinned out into a clingy material. Her arms and body were still covered, but the night wind cut through the fabric like it was not there. Her legs, beyond the boots and fishnets, were completely bare, with the fabric not generous enough to cover the bottoms of her prominent ass, leaving her with another set of chilled cheeks.

Looking around in confusion, then back at the observer on the balcony, Dixie was perplexed. “Power Girl is at least bullet and coldproof. How do I even get home without freezing like this?” she grumbled.

You have the power to change my muse.