Drunk Odyssey

Your browser lacks required capabilities. Please upgrade it or switch to another to continue.

Loading…

The first step in a story is never the hardest. It's the introduction, the prologue, the part that doesn't matter - something that comes easily and serves only to set the stage for the journey that follows. In this case, the first step is passing through a gate - an unlocked gate, easily swung open. So? [[I am eighteen.]] [[I shouldn't be here]]

Congratulations. Here we go, then. [[What is your name?]]

!!Then get the fuck out. Fucking idiot. Go watch a movie. Read a book. Play a sport. Just don't be here.

<<textbox "$name" $name>> \ <<button "Confirm">> <<set $name to $name.trim()>> <<if $name is "">> <<replace "#name-error">>Please enter a name!<</replace>> <<else>> <<goto "Continue.">> <</if>> <</button>>    \ <span id="name-error"></span>

@@text-align:center; <img src="GDO/Design/DOLOGO.png" alt="DRUNK ODYSSEY v1.1sc" /> @@ @@text-align:center;font-size: 200%; [[PLAY->The Age Gate.]] @@ @@text-align:center;font-size: 50%; vMarch15

[[CHANGELOG]]

@@text-align:center;color: #ffffff;font-size: 80%;|Germantown| vMarch14 SugarCube <<display "SIDEIMAGE">>

Not just any Thursday, either. It was the Thursday that finally made you a man. Your eighteenth birthday had been lying out of reach for so long, but was finally here - the years you had been counting finally ran out. You were in the shabbily furnished basement of your home, six of your best friends from high school gathered around a coffee table covered in half-drunk beers and slightly bent cards. Ten minutes ago, you all put down your cards as you watched the clock loosely stuck to the wall by a slowly-drying piece of stucco counting down to the 12 that marked your passage into the common conception of adulthood. It finally hit. And suddenly, it was Thursday. [[Put your hands up and yell.]]

<<set $name to "Unsuspecting Player">> <<set $fname to "Well. It had to happen.">> <<set $sub to 0>> <<set $need to 0>> <<set $integrity to 0>> <<set $bimbo to 0>> <<set $sexcount to 0>> <<set $selfcount to 0>> <<set $n to 1>> <<set $look to 800>> <<set $hadsexwithclaire to 0>> <<set $masturbated to 0>> <<set $nosex to 0>> <<set $showered to 0>> <<set $hasphone to 0>> <<set $clothes to 0>> <<set $fuckeduber to 0>> <<set $leftuberhappy to 0>> <<set $creepyuber to 0>> <<set $triedtoleave to 0>> <<set $timecrunch to 0>> <<set $marinastate to 0>>

Your name is $name. You're a good-looking guy, about 6' 1", with a strong jawline and some fairly nice muscles on a lithe frame. Short, brown hair lies attractively on top of your head, with the sides shaved shorter than the top. You have brown eyes that you're pretty happy about, with nice lashes, a decent smile as long as you don't use teeth, and a pretty good sense of style - you dress alright enough, but not preppy or anything. You're a high school senior, halfway through the year and aching to be done. This is the story of your birthday, a drunk odyssey that might change your life. //And Here. We. Go.// [[It was Thursday.]] <<set $look to 0>>

The moment the clock hit, you threw your hands in the air, beer still clenched tightly, all six of you yelling as what had been a chill night finally broke into the anticipated 24-hours of fucking shit up. You're eighteen. Voting, buying cigarettes and lotto tickets - that didn't mean anything to you. You were thrilled because you had just entered the realm of adulthood - that arbitrary milestone had finally been broken. You still couldn't drink legally, you couldn't buy weed or rent a hotel room or even really live independently at all, but fuck: you were eighteen, and the world at that moment seemed to be yours. It was time to use the fake ID's your friend Will had managed to procure for the night, and go turn the light buzz you've been cultivating into a full-on drunk. [[Do a mock cheers and salute your crew.]] [[Lock and Load - you're shotgunning.]] [[Kill Dave's bottle of tequila and get a little borracho.]] [[Did someone say funnel?]]

You look around the room at your fellow alcoholics. Sticking your beer towards the center of the coffee table, you salute with your other hand. ''Dave'', your oldest friend from back in preschool, immediately follows your lead. He's always been a little odd - shaped like a pear, with spiky black hair and a over-stark jawline - but he's a loyal friend who will always go shot-for-shot, even if it ends with him throwing up on a parked car. Classic Dave. ''Will'', a newer addition to the crew, hefts his bottle of vodka into the center. Will transferred to Green, your high school, last year, but quickly melded into your crew when you found him at Lottie's, the bar you frequent for its loose carding policies, and got absolutely tanked to the point of death with him. Standing at six-three and a striker on the soccer team, you've always felt a little competition with him - but tonight's all about you. ''Trevor''. The punching bag of your particular entourage, Trevor is actually a pretty cool guy. He's hard to make fun of - being, on almost all ends, average as fuck. Short brown hair, mediocre brown eyes, and a forgettable face - not too smart and not too dumb, he's like a brick. But you all find a way, fabricating scenarios and creating nicknames from small incidents because he's the one that always gets bristly when attacked - and it's so much fun. He had just finished a wrestling match before coming over, not qualifying for state, so Trevor was already pretty fucked up. He was six shots in and was putting another one up into the circle. ''Nicholas'' had brought a funnel along, the old-school stoner from freshman year putting his bong aside for a night of absolute alcohol. With long, sandy-blonde hair and a stubbly little beard, Nick looked at home in his drug rug and board shorts. He put the top of his funnel towards the cheers, the tube already in his mouth. ''Ozzy'' was ready with Nick's beer, one lifted in his right towards the cheers, and the other in his left ready to pour down the funnel. Ozzy was an exchange student from Nairobi, and had quickly been accepted into the group. He lived with Will, and they had quickly bonded over soccer, the short African hoping to make it onto Kenya's national team after college. Last, and definitely not least, was ''Wrench''. Wrench used to have a name, but a series of unfortunate incidents had branded him with a nickname so powerful that people he never met would know him by name before being introduced. Wrench looked at the variety of drinks being lifted to celebrate your 18th. He looked around, making eye contacts with each of you. As drinks began clinking, and Ozzy began pouring in the funnel, Wrench lifted his Heineken mini-keg into the air, yelled something nonsensical, and began pouring it all over his face and mouth. You chugged your beer, and followed it up with two tequila shots already poured and ready on the table. Fuck the limes - you're eighteen. It was time to head out. [[Heading out.]]

You look around the room at your fellow alcoholics. Sticking your beer towards the center of the coffee table, you pull it back and chug it down, motioning for your friends to do the same. Taking the keys to your beat-up Subaru WRX, you grab another from the thirty under the table and stab a hole in it, digging around with the key to make it big enough. ''Dave'', your oldest friend from back in preschool, immediately follows your lead. He's always been a little odd - shaped like a pear, with spiky black hair and a over-stark jawline - but he's a loyal friend who will always go shot-for-shot, even if it ends with him throwing up on a parked car. Classic Dave. ''Will'', a newer addition to the crew, hefts his bottle of vodka into the center. Will transferred to Green, your high school, last year, but quickly melded into your crew when you found him at Lottie's, the bar you frequent for its loose carding policies, and got absolutely tanked to the point of death with him. Standing at six-three and a striker on the soccer team, you've always felt a little competition with him - but tonight's all about you. He takes a pull, and then grabs a beer, borrowing your keys for the cut. ''Trevor''. The punching bag of your particular entourage, Trevor is actually a pretty cool guy. He's hard to make fun of - being, on almost all ends, average as fuck. Short brown hair, mediocre brown eyes, and a forgettable face - not too smart and not too dumb, he's like a brick. But you all find a way, fabricating scenarios and creating nicknames from small incidents because he's the one that always gets bristly when attacked - and it's so much fun. He had just finished a wrestling match before coming over, not qualifying for state, so Trevor was already pretty fucked up. He was six shots in and was already ready to shotgun by the time you looked over at him. ''Nicholas'' had brought a funnel along, the old-school stoner from freshman year putting his bong aside for a night of alcoholic debauchery. With long, sandy-blonde hair and a stubbly little beard, Nick looked at home in his drug rug and board shorts. He put the top of his funnel towards the cheers, the tube already in his mouth. "This is basically shotgunning already," he laughed around the tube. You were pretty sure Nick was a little crossed. ''Ozzy'' was ready with Nick's beer, one already loaded and ready, and the other in his left ready to pour down the funnel. Ozzy was an exchange student from Nairobi, and had quickly been accepted into the group. He lived with Will, and they had quickly bonded over soccer, the short African hoping to make it onto Kenya's national team after college. Last, and definitely not least, was ''Wrench''. Wrench used to have a name, but a series of unfortunate incidents had branded him with a nickname so powerful that people he never met would know him by name before being introduced. Wrench looked at the variety of drinks being lifted to celebrate your 18th. He looked around, making eye contacts with each of you. As he saw the shotgun beginning, and Ozzy began pouring in the funnel, Wrench lifted his Heineken mini-keg into the air, yelled something nonsensical, and began pouring it all over his face and mouth. You fired your shotgun, finishing your beer, and followed it up with two tequila shots already poured and ready on the table. Fuck the limes - you're eighteen. It was time to head out. [[Heading out.]]

You look around the room at your fellow alcoholics. Sticking your beer towards the center of the coffee table, you pull it back and chug it down, motioning for your friends to do the same. You motion to Dave with a shot glass you picked up from the table, and yell, "SHOTTTTSSS!!!" ''Dave'', your oldest friend from back in preschool, immediately follows your lead. He's always been a little odd - shaped like a pear, with spiky black hair and a over-stark jawline - but he's a loyal friend who will always go shot-for-shot, even if it ends with him throwing up on a parked car. Classic Dave. He's already pouring by the time your yell finishes. ''Will'', a newer addition to the crew, hefts his shot into the center. Will transferred to Green, your high school, last year, but quickly melded into your crew when you found him at Lottie's, the bar you frequent for its loose carding policies, and got absolutely tanked to the point of death with him. Standing at six-three and a striker on the soccer team, you've always felt a little competition with him - but tonight's all about you. He's been controlling the music - and puts "Tequila" on for the shots. ''Trevor''. The punching bag of your particular entourage, Trevor is actually a pretty cool guy. He's hard to make fun of - being, on almost all ends, average as fuck. Short brown hair, mediocre brown eyes, and a forgettable face - not too smart and not too dumb, he's like a brick. But you all find a way, fabricating scenarios and creating nicknames from small incidents because he's the one that always gets bristly when attacked - and it's so much fun. He had just finished a wrestling match before coming over, not qualifying for state, so Trevor was already pretty fucked up. He was six shots in and was already itching for another, motioning for Dave to finish pouring his impatiently. ''Nicholas'' had brought a funnel along, the old-school stoner from freshman year putting his bong aside for a night of alcoholic debauchery. With long, sandy-blonde hair and a stubbly little beard, Nick looked at home in his drug rug and board shorts. He puts down the funnel with a dejected sigh, taking his shot. "no limes?" he looks around, shrugging in exasperation. "Fine." ''Ozzy'' took two shots from Dave, grinning ear to ear with a tipsy flair. Ozzy was an exchange student from Nairobi, and had quickly been accepted into the group. He lived with Will, and they had quickly bonded over soccer, the short African hoping to make it onto Kenya's national team after college. Last, and definitely not least, was ''Wrench''. Wrench used to have a name, but a series of unfortunate incidents had branded him with a nickname so powerful that people he never met would know him by name before being introduced. Wrench looked at the solidarity of drinks being lifted to celebrate your 18th. He looked around, making eye contacts with each of you. And to commence the shots, Wrench lifted his Heineken mini-keg into the air, yelled something nonsensical, and began pouring it all over his face and mouth. You downed your shot, crushed another beer, and followed it up with two more tequila shots already poured and ready on the table. Fuck the limes - you're eighteen. It was time to head out. [[Heading out.]]

You look over at ''Nick'' - "So you brought that funnel for all of us, right?" He grins. "Nope." Calling him a stream of obscenities as he begins to chug beer after beer out of his funnel, you resolve to take shots instead. [[I guess it's shots afterall.]]

You look around the room at your fellow alcoholics. Minus ''Nick''. Fuck Nick. Sticking your beer towards the center of the coffee table, you pull it back and chug it down, motioning for your friends to do the same. You motion to Dave with a shot glass you picked up from the table, and yell, "SHOTTTTSSS!!!" ''Dave'', your oldest friend from back in preschool, immediately follows your lead. He's always been a little odd - shaped like a pear, with spiky black hair and a over-stark jawline - but he's a loyal friend who will always go shot-for-shot, even if it ends with him throwing up on a parked car. Classic Dave. He's already pouring by the time your yell finishes. ''Will'', a newer addition to the crew, hefts his shot into the center. Will transferred to Green, your high school, last year, but quickly melded into your crew when you found him at Lottie's, the bar you frequent for its loose carding policies, and got absolutely tanked to the point of death with him. Standing at six-three and a striker on the soccer team, you've always felt a little competition with him - but tonight's all about you. He's been controlling the music - and puts "Tequila" on for the shots. ''Trevor''. The punching bag of your particular entourage, Trevor is actually a pretty cool guy. He's hard to make fun of - being, on almost all ends, average as fuck. Short brown hair, mediocre brown eyes, and a forgettable face - not too smart and not too dumb, he's like a brick. But you all find a way, fabricating scenarios and creating nicknames from small incidents because he's the one that always gets bristly when attacked - and it's so much fun. He had just finished a wrestling match before coming over, not qualifying for state, so Trevor was already pretty fucked up. He was six shots in and was already itching for another, motioning for Dave to finish pouring his impatiently. ''Nicholas'' was your friend who wouldn't share his precious funnel, the old-school stoner from freshman year putting his bong aside for a night of alcoholic debauchery. With long, sandy-blonde hair and a stubbly little beard, Nick looked at home in his drug rug and board shorts. He puts down the funnel with a dejected sigh after finishing his beer, taking his shot. "no limes?" he looks around, shrugging in exasperation. "Fine." "Fuck you, Nick," Will shouts, "We could've all funneled." ''Ozzy'' took two shots from Dave, grinning ear to ear with a tipsy flair. Ozzy was an exchange student from Nairobi, and had quickly been accepted into the group. He lived with Will, and they had quickly bonded over soccer, the short African hoping to make it onto Kenya's national team after college. Last, and definitely not least, was ''Wrench''. Wrench used to have a name, but a series of unfortunate incidents had branded him with a nickname so powerful that people he never met would know him by name before being introduced. Wrench looked at the solidarity of drinks being lifted to celebrate your 18th. He looked around, making eye contacts with each of you. And to commence the shots, Wrench lifted his Heineken mini-keg into the air, yelled something nonsensical, and began pouring it all over his face and mouth. You downed your shot, crushed another beer, and followed it up with two more tequila shots already poured and ready on the table. Fuck the limes - you're eighteen. It was time to head out. [[Heading out.]]

Gathering up, all seven of you stumble towards the garage. The stairs up to your main house prove challenging for everyone, and a small wave of apprehension hits all of you at nearly the same time. "Waiiitttt," "Yo, are you good to drive?" "Fuck no. You?" "Hey. HEY. No one here is good to drive, Nick." "I'm good to drive." "Shut the fuck up, Wrench, you just downed a keg." "A mini keg." With Will pushing Wrench down the stairs, you all decide none of you are good to drive at all - you need a driver. A sober driver. Luckily, your brother's home, playing video games in the den like usual. [[Ask your little bro for a ride.]]

"//Hey Jake//!" You half-whisper, half-yell in that way only people who're pretty sloshed can. Jake pulls off his headset with a sharp "What, $name. What do you want." "It's my birthday, Jake. Wanna do me - I mean us," you gesture loosely to your crew who looks like the cast of The Inbetweeners on vacation - "a big favor? Please?" You clasp your hands like a monk in prayer. Dave does the same, followed by Will and then the rest. "Why the fuck would I do you a favor? It's a Wednesday night and I have school - I know you're going to ask me to drive you around like a taxi." "Jake. Jake, Jake, Jake," you drawl. "It's not a Wednesday night. It's a Thursday birthday," you exclaim with a grandiose flourish. Wow. Those shots hit fast, you think. Will pipes up. "50 bucks for the night, Jake, take it or leave it." Jake stands up pretty damn quick. "I'll take it. I'll take it now, up-front, and in cash." He holds out a hand. Will takes out two twenties and a ten from a beat-up black leather wallet and puts them in the 16-year-old's hand. "Consider it my birthday gift to you, man" he points to you, and does a cocky smirk/wink thing that makes you smile and cringe at the same time. [[You walk to the Garage]]

Tossing Jake the keys to your WRX, you all slide into the car. Doors slam, the garage door grinds open, the gearshift crunches and tires squeal as Jake peels out into the street. Will has passed off control of the music to Ozzy in the passenger seat, and he puts on some feel-good 80's, starting with Mr. Blue-sky. "So," Jake asks, resigned to his fate of being your chauffer to the evening, "Where to? " You look around the car at your seven companions. Where to is a good-ass question. [[Wrench yells, "STRIIIIPPPPP CLUUUUBBB!".->To the Strip Club.]] [[Will groans and says, "Fuck that. I know a bouncer at that college bar, Nico's."->To Nico's.]] [[Trevor replies "No, nah - Fuck Nico's. We should start by hitting a liquor store if we're going to that shit show."->To the Liquor Store?]] [[Ozzy leans back and excitedly mentions, "Wait! One of the guys in my exchange group is from Colombia - he's got a crew going to a Salsa Club. And that means ladddieeeesss!!!" He sticks out his tongue and wiggles it around.->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] So, which of these degenerates are you going to listen to? They all seem pretty solid.

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

It’s a rapid drive to Nico’s, and by 12:30, you’re pulling up a block away from the club frequented by college students from State and townies like you. The street is packed. This is Grant Street, home of Thursday and Friday night binge-drinking, sorority girls waiting for Ubers on the curbs, frat guys puking in the alleys. Crowds of people patrol the street, looking for booze, conversation, or quick and easy sex – it’s a college street, with a college attitude. You all knew parking would be tough – this is the third time you’ve been here, once with your cousins getting you inside, and the other when you tested your fakes for the first time. Jake pulls around a corner onto a side street, managing to find a tiny spot outside of an apartment building. “Alright, I guess I’ll wait here. Meter’s running,” he says, already pulling out his phone and putting in his headphones. You all get out of the car, feeling confident and ready to go. It’s a block to Nico’s, and you pass the typical scenes of a Thursday night – an abandoned heel on the ground, a creepily intimate make-out on a wall, a bunch of guys like yourselves already pretty far into their night yelling about nothing. But you can’t take your eyes off of the college girls. Shadowed, dusky eyes seem to glance at you when any of them pass by, smoldering looks you take as advances towards yourself. Girls in short dresses and shorter skirts, halter tops and sheer. Fuck. The sober part of your brain reminds you how close you are to college. The drunk part tells you you’re already here. The seven of you work your way into the end of the line at Nico’s. It’s long – really long. The usual stream of late-going-out students, normally shorter at this hour, winds its way an entire block – past several empty bars – and ends at you. There’s some kind of drink special tonight, according to the bros you ask in front of you – 10$ for open bar past midnight until 4 AM. “It’s fucking December fifth, man! The repeal of prohibition – when all the bros of history got incredibly fucked up.” You nod your head. That’s a weird-ass thing to have a special for, but you’re not arguing. Open bar is open bar, and open bar brings in the sororities from State like Chick-Fil-A brings in southerners. [[Wait.]] [[Say fuck it and go back to the car.]] [[Try to cut in line.]]

Luckily, the nearest liquor store is less than a mile away. It's not exactly a reputable neighborhood, but hey, cheap is cheap, and booze is booze. You pull up at Vick's. And, of course, like every fucking liquor store after 10, it's closed. "Ahh. Right. Forgot it's after 12," Trevor says. "Forgot it's after 12? Forgot it's after ten, you fucking moron," Wrench yells, ready to participate in the daily ripping apart of Trevor's soul. Started early today, you think to yourself. "Jesus, Trevor. It's like someone took an ant's brain, stomped on it a bunch, and stuck it in your head. Why can't you do anything right?" Dave pipes in. "Hey! Fuck y'all. You could've said something - but nooooo, you forgot too," he retorts as he starts flipping all of you the bird. "I knew. I just wanted to see you fail," Will chimes in. "Alright, alright," you start. "Yes, Trevor is a world-class idiot. But we still have an alcohol problem, and now we're ten minutes later than we would be." Will nods, "So are we still hitting Nico's? What's the plan, b-day boy?" With a slight gasp, Jake interjects - "Shit. Is that door open?" [[Peel out and head to Nico's. You've wasted enough time already.->To Nico's 2]] [[Fuck. Jake's right, the side door is swinging in the wind.->Open door policy.]]

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

It’s been ten minutes when the drunken conversation you’ve been having with your friends starts to turn exasperated. Wrench is looking at his phone, and groans. “AGGGH. It’s been like half an hour man, I can feel myself sobering up – that is not. Not a good thing. Where the fuck is your bouncer friend, Will?” “I don’t know, man. I texted him like three times – he’s not outside or we’d be in.” Wrench looks up at the sky. “FUCCCCKKKK.” Dave smacks him on the top of the head. “Dude, chill the fuck out. It’s a club. Clubs have lines. People wait in lines. We are people. Shut your goddamn mouth and relax.” “I swear to god. If we don’t get in soon, I will go insane. And you’ve seen me sane. Insane is much, much worse,” he says with an absolutely terrifying gleam to his eyes. “Why don’t you go ask the bouncer up there if your friend is working, Will?” Ozzy says, “I’m fine with waiting but I’m losing my drunk.” Trevor points to a girl in a black dress standing outside the bar talking with the bouncer. “Hey, $name. Is that your ex? Jesus, I think it is.” [[Say fuck it and go back to the car.]] [[Continue to wait.]] [[Try to cut in line.]] [[Send Will to talk to the bouncer.]] [[Shit. Is that your ex?]]

"This isn't fucking worth it, fellas. Let's hit something else - it's barely past midnight," you say to your crew. "Oh, come on, man, it's so worth it - look at these girls!" Will says, gesturing at the asses of some of the ladies in line. "Nah, $name is right - fuck this," Wrench backs you up, slapping you on the back. "And it's his birthday, Will, not yours." "Fine. Where the hell are we going, then? I promise you it won't be as lit as here." "I mean, my friend's been texting me to come ever since he got into the Salsa club. He says it's packed with wall-to-wall Latinas and tequila." "I still vote strip club," Wrench says, cupping imaginary tits. [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]]

You attempt to move your way up the line. Hey, it is your birthday. The guys who told you about the drink special move aside, slapping you on the back as you falsely tell them it’s your 21st. In front of them, however, is what seems to be an entire frat. You try the same thing, and the only answers you get from the consolidated huddle they’ve got going is, “Fuck off, no one gives a shit,” and, “Suck my dick and we’ll see, bitch.” Wrench starts to move towards them aggressively after that. [[Back Wrench up. Fuck these frat boys up.]] [[Grab Wrench, stopping a potential assault, and continue to wait.->Continue to wait.]] [[Say fuck it and go back to the car.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

It’s a rapid drive to Nico’s, and by 12:45, you’re pulling up a block away from the club frequented by college students from State and townies like you. You sigh in relief. Even with your failed trip for extra pre-game material, it's still lit. The street is packed. This is Grant Street, home of Thursday and Friday night binge-drinking, sorority girls waiting for ubers on the curbs, frat guys puking in the alleys. Crowds of people patrol the street, looking for booze, conversation, or quick and easy sex – it’s a college street, with a college attitude. You all knew parking would be tough – this is the third time you’ve been here, once with your cousins getting you inside, and the other when you tested your fakes for the first time. Jake pulls around a corner onto a side street, managing to find a tiny spot outside of an apartment building. “Alright, I guess I’ll wait here. Meter’s running,” he says, already pulling out his phone and putting in his headphones. You all get out of the car, feeling confident and ready to go. It’s a block to Nico’s, and you pass the typical scenes of a Thursday night – an abandoned heel on the ground, a creepily intimate make-out on a wall, a bunch of guys like yourselves already pretty far into their night yelling about nothing. But you can’t take your eyes off of the college girls. Shadowed, dusky eyes seem to glance at you when any of them pass by, smoldering looks you take as advances towards yourself. Girls in short dresses and shorter skirts, halter tops and sheer. Fuck. The sober part of your brain reminds you how close you are to college. The drunk part tells you you’re already here. The seven of you work your way into the end of the line at Nico’s. It’s long – really long. The usual stream of late-going-out students, normally shorter at this hour, winds its way an entire block – past several empty bars – and ends at you. There’s some kind of drink special tonight, according to the bros you ask in front of you – 10$ for open bar past midnight until 4 AM. “It’s fucking December fifth, man! The repeal of prohibition – when all the bros of history got incredibly fucked up.” You nod your head. That’s a weird-ass thing to have a special for, but you’re not arguing. Open bar is open bar, and open bar brings in the sororities from State like Chick-Fil-A brings in southerners. [[Wait.]] [[Say fuck it and go back to the car.]] [[Try to cut in line.]]

Jake was right. You all smash your faces on the Driver's side windows as you look - a beat-up brown door is swinging in the light wind, rustling the trees. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god, " Wrench starts droning. "ha-HA. Fuck all of you! Seriously, fuck you all, I am a god," Trevor triumphantly exclaims. "No, Trev, you're still an idiot, but a lucky one," Will slaps him on the back. "So? Who's down to go in?" posing the question to the group, Dave looks expectantly at you. "Birthday boy?" [["Fuck yes. I'll be back with a fucking bar."->You go.]] [["Nah, I think I should avoid felonies now that I'm eighteen and all. Who else is down?"->Will goes]] [["Are you all kidding me? We're not robbing a liq store. Jesus. Let's go to Nico's."->To Nico's 2]]

You step out of the car, shutting the door behind you. As you walk towards the door, hands in pocket, you look back and see your friends piled at the windows, staring. Wrench is licking the window. You give them a furrowed glare, and turn back towards your aim. The creaking, swinging door. You’re about four feet away when the wind slams it shut. “Fuck!” you half yell. Moving quickly towards the door, you try to pull it open. [[Pull with all of your drunk strength.]] [[Test the knob lightly.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

"Fine. I guess I'll go in," Will says, rolling his eyes. He snaps off his seatbelt and exits the car, slamming the door aggressively. He puts his hands in his pocket as he circles around the car to walk towards the door. You all lean up against the store-facing window, pressing your faces to the glass. Wrench starts licking it. "Dude. Don't fuck with my car like that." "Oh, don't worry $name, I'm just pretending the glass is your mom's clit." You push him down into the space between the seats, laughing. Will reaches the swinging door, and grabs the edge as it starts to swing close. He opens it wider, and peers in. You see his eyes go wide, and he quickly turns back to the car, flashing a thumb’s up and a cocksure smile. Looks like there was something good in there. He steps in, and closes the door behind him. You all sit in anticipation of the spoils of your lucky victory. [[And you sit. and sit.]]

Five minutes come and go. Then ten. You start talking about going in after him, and decide to give him two more minutes before you decide what to do. The two minutes pass. "Alright. What the fuck is going on?" Wrench says, rubbing his head worriedly. "Will better not have gotten caught," Dave states angrily. "I'll fuck up a security guard if I need to." "Look," you say. Why don't we just go check on him." The crew nods. But who'll go? [["I'll go in," you say. You get out of the car.]] [[You wait a second, and Dave pipes up, "I'll go. Move over."]]

You walk towards the door, concern on your face. What the fuck happened to Will? The gravel crunches underfoot as you move to the door. It's closed, and you grip the steel knob of the stained brown door carefully. Twisting the knob, you sigh in relief - it's still open. You open the door into a black room. Taking your phone out of your slack's pockets, you turn on the flashlight, and shine it around the room. "Will?" you stage whisper. No response. You walk inside, wedging a rock in the corner of the door frame. Shining your light around the small room, it reflects off of dozens of glass handles and liquor bottles. "Wow," you murmur. It's a treasure trove. Distracted, you get caught up in the shelf nearest to you, before you remember why you're in there. Will. Right. You hear a light moaning from your left, and spin your light and eyes to meet it. [[What the fuck?->What the fuck?]] <<set $integrity to $integrity + 1>>

Five minutes come and go. Then ten. You start talking about going in after him, and decide to give him two more minutes before you decide what to do. The two minutes pass. "Jesus. Is it a black hole?" Wrench says, again rubbing his head worriedly. "I'm getting pretty worried," Trev states nervously. "We can't leave them behind." "Look," you say. "I'm gonna go in and check." You don't really have much of a choice anymore. Also, you're curious, and confident from drinking. Plus, you owe Dave from the last time he backed you up in a fight outside of Nico's. The crew nods. "Good luck, man," Ozzy says with a mock salute. [[You get out of the car.]]

You walk towards the door, concern on your face. What the fuck happened to Will? The gravel crunches underfoot as you move to the door. It's closed, and you grip the steel knob of the stained brown door carefully. Twisting the knob, you sigh in relief - it's still open. You open the door into a black room. Taking your phone out of your slack's pockets, you turn on the flashlight, and shine it around the room. "Will?" you stage whisper. No response. "Dave?" You walk inside, wedging a rock in the corner of the door frame. Shining your light around the small room, it reflects off of dozens of glass handles and liquor bottles. "Wow," you murmur. It's a treasure trove. Distracted, you get caught up in the shelf nearest to you, before you remember why you're in there. Will. Right. You hear a light moaning from your left, and spin your light and eyes to meet it. [[What the fuck?->What the fuck?2]]

Shining your light on the floor, you look in astonishment at an absolutely gorgeous red head lying in tight jeans and no shirt or bra. Her eyes are shut tight, thick lashes batting against her rosy cheeks, two fingers slipped inside her fat, O-shaped, red lips. Her hair is spread around her head like a thick, wavy halo, long as hell and mussed from movement. She sucks on her fingers, not noticing you, and your eyes drift down her body, to her amazing tits. You'd estimate they're double D's, with thick nipples perked-up on dark areolas contrasting against her pale, fair skin. They jiggle as she sways side-to-side and back-and-forth, and you follow the path of her perfectly proportioned, toned arms, past her thin, curvy waist and flat, tight stomach to her unbuttoned jeans, where another head of red hair, bobbing, bounces and jiggles, a slurping noise barely perceptible as the red headed girl being serviced slides back and forth. You shine your light down the back of the girl with the pussy in her face. Her hair, the same shade as the first, trails down her back past her thin waist and curvy hips, to her massive ass, resting on her dainty feet in a flexible, curved kneel. She seems occupied. "MMMMMmmmmm. Guh." With a popping sound, the girl lying down pulls her fingers out of her mouth, spit trailing from them in a bridge to her plump lips. She opens her eyes slowly, and you are transfixed by the vibrant green irises looking up at you, as they narrow into a sultry stare. She bends up, curling at the stomach, and fondles her partner's breast, visible even from the back angle you're at. You assume Two's tongue is still pumping into her pants, and One mouths the word "Hi," to you and her partner detaches, turning her head over her shoulder towards you, flipping her mane of red locks. She twists, and places her hands on the floor, pendulous breasts swinging underneath her kneeling torso. Looking up at her face, it’s exactly the same as the first, an obvious twin. She starts to crawl toward you. Licking her lips, pussy juice dribbling from her chin You're frozen. You can't look away. The first girl you saw gets on her knees and crawls towards you as well. They’re right in front of you. You smell cinnamon and nutmeg, and something spicy, like a pepper. Pepper's never made you hard before, though. This did. One looks up at you with her transfixing stare, and her hands, dainty with long, red fingernails, deftly start undoing your belt as she leans up and rests her tits on your upper thighs, right around your erect penis. Your pants come down as Two pulls them to your ankles along with your boxers, and your dick flops onto One’s open mouth, her lips soft and wet. Two stretches up, and puts her mouth around your swinging balls. The smell is intoxicating. You get caught up in the wild, free scent. You can’t think of anything but putting your cock in-between their plump, pouting lips. [[Resist temptation as much as you can.->End of the line2]] [[Put your hand on One’s shimmering tresses and get ready for something great.->End of the line]]

Your hands grip One’s head, pulling the silky hair towards your hips, and she giggles, wrapping her lips around the head of your cock. Immediately, you’re overcome with euphoric feeling. Her tongue playing around your tip, sliding across your hole, tentatively and gently becoming familiar with your dick. You look down, into a wide, mirthful pair of shockingly green eyes, beginning to bob up and down as she works her way down. Two has moved up from your balls, gripping the base of your shaft with her manicured hands, and begins pumping, rubbing her other hand on her long tongue while staring up at you, working the spit-covered palm all around your base, lubing you up. This feels incredible. A tingling sensation builds up where One is servicing you, and Two’s spit is sinking into your skin with a wonderful, hot feeling. They start taking turns licking and circling the tip of your penis with their tongues and fat lips, laughing as they stroke it, and you tilt your head back, grunting in ecstasy. Jesus. You’ve never had a blowjob like this. You feel a hand on your lower back, and look down to see Two easing up your body, breasts pressed against your side, the firm, perfectly spherical tits yielding into your hard muscles. She’s running her tongue up your chest, past your abs and pecs, until she’s standing right over One, her tunnel dripping feminine juices of arousal onto your cock, quickly lapped up as One moves further and further down your dick with her throat, until she’s kissing the base, the whole more-than-average length inside her. Two kisses you on the neck, pressed against you firmly, and moves up to kiss your lips, your face in her hands, and you smell the intoxicating scent of cinnamon on her hair, which drapes onto your shoulders. You pull her towards you, hands caressing her naked back, mouth entangled with her plump lips, tasting a bit of your own pre on her lips. You don’t even care. You feel like you’re about to burst. You’re quickly backed up against a rack as Two jumps up and wraps her legs around your back, her firm and heart-shaped ass brushing against your upward-curving hard-on. You start to fall, One still face-fucking you, Two pushing you down as you slowly fall to the ground, using one arm to prevent it from being a bad one. [[You’re underneath the two women.]]

You rush towards the door, panic in your heart as you look at the now firmly-shut stained brown door. Grasping the cool steel knob with both hands, you twist and pull with all of your might, trusting the booze you've drank earlier to give you the tireless muscles of an alcoholic. Well, it was unlocked. And you fly backwards as you yank the door open incredibly quickly, the door slamming back into the wall as you topple over onto the ground. Dazed, you hear wild laughter emulating from the air, and look over to see all of your friends laughing and pointing at your hasty, stupid action. Picking yourself up, and brushing loose gravel off of your slacks and button-up, you give a casual shrug, with an abashed smile to your slow-capping crew. Grabbing the door as it swings shut again, you run a hand through your hair to put it back in place, and look inside. You let out a sigh of relief, just now realizing you had been holding your breath as you peered inside. You turn to face the car, entourage still watching intently, their laughter fading in anticipation. You flash a thumb’s up to your crew with a jaunty, over-exaggerated smile. Looking at the open frame and inside the store, you see shelving in a dark room, and estimate that you've found the service entrance to a storeroom. You let out a quiet laugh followed by a "Shiiiittttt," as you see the piles of 30's and handles stacked all around the room. [[Proceed into the store]] [[Chicken out. What are you doing?]]

You decide to test the knob, not knowing who's inside or if it locked or not when slamming shut. You carefully walk up to the door, anticipation building in your chest. You place your hand on the cool, silver knob of the stained brown door, and turn. It's unlocked. You let out a sigh of relief, just now realizing you had been holding your breath as you turned the knob. You turn to face the car, entourage still watching intently, and flash a thumb’s up to your crew with a jaunty, over-exaggerated smile. Turning back to the door, you pull it slightly ajar, the door coming towards you with a light creak. Looking at the foot-wide allowance, you see shelving in a dark room, and estimate that you've found the service entrance to a storeroom. You let out a quiet laugh followed by a "Shiiiittttt," as you see the piles of 30's and handles stacked all around the room. [[Proceed into the store]] [[Chicken out. What are you doing?]]

You step inside, and close the door behind you, surrounding yourself in darkness as the last gleam of the street light is hidden behind the door. Turning on your phone's flashlight, you swing it around the room. You're definitely in a storeroom, metal shelving in four rows in the center of the mid-sized rectangular room, more shelving on the walls. Your mouth hasn’t closed since you walked in, the massive amount of alcohol before you essentially the equivalent to finding El Dorado. You take a moment to just walk around, marveling at how you somehow lucked into the find of the century. This much alcohol could kill a small village, you think. You pick up a bottle of Grey Goose, feeling the heft and weight, the French liquor normally priced at 60 a bottle, give or take. Free now. But still. You can grab all the rich people liquor, the stock stuff, for your friends – you want to find something unique. Something higher class than higher class. Something that makes you not just a lucky thief, but a daring bandit. You grab an empty cardboard box from a pile of them in the corner, and load it up with two handles of Smirnoff, a bottle of patron, and two bottles of Grey Goose. Then, you set out to find the rare stuff. You scan all the shelves, and notice it goes from the bottom – where the cheap stuff is, like Burnett’s and 30’s of Natty – and slowly progresses up to the top shelves, where you grabbed the Patron, and where the stuff in fancy-looking cardboard boxes is. You aren’t a whiskey person, but anything else will do. In the process of circling the room, you notice a couple of neat things worth taking. There’s a wooden crate, with shredded golden paper spilling out the bottom and gaps, where you can see some incredible looking champagne-style bottles peeking out from behind the slats, and corks with wax melted over-top poking out from the paper. Walking over, you trace your fingers over the embossed, burnt logo of a line-art crown. Across the room, on the top shelf of the rack to the left of the door, you see an eye-catching, solid red bottle, with gold lining on the bottom and cap. A simple logo of a white pepper graces the bottle, with a nice modern font reading “Red Hot Tequila” underneath. It has a price tag of one hundred and thirty-five dollars stuck to it. Damn. The last thing that you haven’t seen before, alongside some pretty high-end IPA’s, is a cardboard box marked 40oz Bottles, OLD FRENCH. The design is rustic and printed well, and it looks hipster as fuck. You wonder if it’s a play on Old English, and think that it’d be fun to play 40 hands tonight on your birthday. You can probably carry one more thing on top of the crate you prepped for your friends. What do you do? [[Pop some bottles, it’s your birthday – Stack the wooden crate of crown on you other box.]] [[You can’t turn down expensive tequila. Stick the handle on top of your box.]] [[Forty hands forever. You just want to get wasted, and that stuff looks better than any 40 you’ve seen before.]] [[Jesus, man. What are you doing? You’re eighteen and you’re pretty sure this is breaking and entering. You want to add a robbery to that? Chicken out and head back to the car.->Chicken out. What are you doing?]]

What are you doing? Are you insane? You're just a high school senior - this is not the time to be committing felonies. You walk back towards the car, slamming the door to the liquor store shut. Your heart is beating at twice its normal rate, and you shake your head, unbelieving at what you almost did. Your friends look confused through the windows of the Subaru as you stroll towards them, hands in your pants pockets. Wrench holds his palms up, and you can hear him from ten feet away as he yells, "WHAT?" You open the backseat car, and shove your way back next to Wrench, pushing him into the center seat. "What the fuck, man? Was there nothing there?" he asks. [["Yeah, it was just an office in the back. All the doors were locked. We should get out of here so we don't miss out on the night."->Alright.]] [["Naw, man, there was a shitload of booze. But are we really thieves? Fuck that. I say we just go out like we planned. I don't want to rob some store."->Alright.]] [["Hey - If you want to rob a liquor store, be my guest. I'm not doing it."->Will goes]] [["You know what? It's my birthday, and I don't feel like robbing a store. Let's go."->Alright.]]

Pulling an empty crate over to the shelve with the champagne, you step up and stand on your tip-toes to reach the eye-catching bottles of what you hope is something like Dom. As your fingers grasp the rough edges of the light-tan wood, you're surprised by how heavy it is - how many bottles are in here? You heft the crate up and then down to the floor, bending with effort to set it on the hard concrete. It’s an open topped crate, and you take one of the bottles out and into both your hands, turning it slowly, observing. There's no other markings on the bottle besides the crown logo in gold leaf, and a small, elegant script with the letters “kb” – there’s not even an alcohol percentage or a vinery. It's classy as all hell, and you're incredibly curious how it tastes. You can hear the liquid moving as you turn the bottle, a hollow but satisfying change in weight. You can tell this is some high-end shit by the expense they spent on bottling. You don't generally drink high quality bubbly, but you can tell that something is different about this stuff. Sniffing the cork wrapped in its metal cage, you smell intoxicating, attractive aromas, something haughty and fresh. Elegant and subtly noted. Rich. You contemplate popping the cork right now and taking a swig, or sticking with loading the crate into your trunk for an after-bar celebration at the end of the night. [[Fuck it – Pop off.]] [[Save the royal champagne for a post-game.]]

Standing on your tip-toes, you reach up to grab the eye-catching bottle of tequila. As your fingers grasp the smooth surface of the red-painted glass, you're surprised by how hot it is - the bottle is actually radiating a small amount of heat, like a pleasant burn from a drink. You take the bottle down into both your hands, turning it slowly and carefully. There's no other markings on the bottle besides the name and the price sticker, not an alcohol percentage or a distillery. It's classy as all hell, and you're incredibly curious how it tastes. You pop the top off - there's no plastic seal or impediments to opening it - and take a sniff. That's tequila, alright. You don't generally drink high quality liquor, but you can tell that something is different about this stuff. It smells intoxicating, attractive. Wild and free. Spicy. You contemplate taking a pull right now, or saving it to pour in a flask when you get back to the car. [[Fuck it - Take a pull!]] [[Save the first taste for the clubs.]]

Bending over, you lean down to pick up the eye-catching box of 40’s. As your fingers grasp the smooth surface of the thick cardboard, you're surprised by how light it is - the case is actually easy to lift, and you feel like you’re being supported as you move it to the center of the room, and off the rack. It’s not taped shut or anything, and you fold the cardboard flaps out of the way to peer inside, taking one of the bottles out and into both your hands, turning it slowly, observing. There's no other markings on the bottle besides a logo of a stylized woman’s silhouette in a bottle’s outline in matte paint, and a small, elegant script with the words “Old French, 40oz.” – there’s not even an alcohol percentage or a brewery. It's classy looking as all hell, and you're incredibly curious how it tastes. You can hear the liquid moving as you turn the bottle, a hollow but satisfying change in weight. You can tell this is some high-end shit by the expense they spent on bottling. You don't generally drink high quality beer, sticking to the cheap stuff, but you can tell that something is different about this stuff. You can even smell the beer through the bottle, and it smells intoxicating, an attractive aroma of a light beer floating up your nostrils. It has something haughty and fresh. Elegant and subtly hoppy. Aged and refined. You contemplate uncapping the bottle right now and taking a swig, or sticking with your new plan to get some duct tape and play forty hands with your friends. [[Fuck it - Take a pull!->Pop the cap]] [[Save the first tastes for the game.]]

You can’t resist. The smell was so good, and you’ve noticed yourself sobering up. A pull can’t hurt. You pop the cap off with your keys, putting them back in your pocket. bringing the bottle up to your lips, the edge touching you with an almost electric, familiar feeling, you tilt the bottle back, and take a swig. Wow. That’s some good shit. It rolls down your throat like a smooth wave, the liquid sensuously coursing through you, and you feel a heat, in your stomach, in your throat, and in your genitals. Odd. The hoppy but tasty brew makes you feel older and more refined, but you find the bottle back on your lips, already taking another drink – though you don’t remember choosing to do so. The bready, semi-sweet taste of the beer hits you, and you let out a little moan. “MMMMmmmmm,” licking your lips. You freeze. What the fuck was that. You’re even sweating a little. You wipe a palm on your face, and it feels alien to you. Does something feel wet? You look down. There’s a wet spot on your slacks, right over your dick. Did you pee? You touch the spot, and smell your fingers. Nope. You didn’t pee “What the actual fuck,” you vocalize your thoughts. Running your hands over your hair, confused and very disturbed, you notice something. Is it getting thicker? You put a hand through your short, brown hair. Sure feels thicker. You put your left hand up for a feel too, and a thick slash of brown hair with dark streaks falls in front of your eyes. Jesus. What’s happening to you? You brush the invading bangs out of your face behind your ear, and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it towards your eyes. It seems to give, and you gasp, pulling until it's at eye level. Your eyes widen. You give it another pull, and manage to take it all the way down to your chin. "Oh Jesus Fuck," you say, letting go. It only keeps going, and you watch as cascades of dark brown tresses thicken and fall down the sides of your face, running through your upturned palms until you feel a heavy curtain of hair tickling your ass through your slacks and dangling below your belt. As it falls, it becomes more and more shaded, the dark brown turning to a very, very dark brown until it fades into a deep and vibrant black. "Oh my god. Oh my god," you murmur as your confusion fully evolves into panic, tears rolling from your eyes – which feel pretty damn strange, too. You can't stop touching the new locks of hair curling around your arms, and draped over your chest. There's so much of it, and it's so full. Mouth open wide and tingling, you pull some from the sides into view. Sure enough, it's gorgeous raven hair, long and full, thick as hell, and wavy like the crests of a small river. "Look at that color," you mutter, perplexed by why you would notice the absolutely stunning shade of darkness your hair has become. But it only captures your attention for a moment. [[There's an itching on your chest.->There’s an itching on your chest4]]

You decide not to break open one of the bottles to try it – then you’d have to finish it! You lug the crate up. Looking around for some way to easily get it back to the car, you spot a small metal cart in the corner of the room with a half-keg on it. Removing the keg, you slide the cart under the keg, and tilt it back. Wheeling it to the door, you swing it open, and roll the cart out. As you begin to approach the car, wheels grinding on the asphalt, you see your friends cheering inside the car, Wrench frantically pumping a fist up and down as you sidle up to the hatchback. Knocking on the trunk, Jake pops it open, and with a hydraulic hiss you pull it open. Will has exited the car to help you, and sees the box of champagne. "Oh shit. Are those 40s?" You smile, "Fuck yeah they are. Something called Old French." You both heft the crate up and into the trunk, among your skis, an empty gym bag, and old glass bottles. “Huh. Never heard of it. Nice bottle design, though.” You nod, reaching into the wheel well to pull out your safety kit. Unzipping the side pocket, you pull out a roll of duct tape. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Will laughs. “This is gonna be fun.” You open the back door, and return to your seat, buckling up quickly. It's time to get going. The night's still young. As your friends slap you on the back, Ozzy punching the roof ecstatically, Dave looking over the back seat at the case, you formulate your plan for the night. [[To Nico's!]] [[Wrench is right. Let's see some titties.->To the Strip Club.]] [[You're feeling a Latin flair. Hit the salsa club.->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [[You’ve got the tape. You’ve got the booze. It’s time to play Edward 40-Hands, and make this night one to remember that you forgot.]]

As you look in shock at your new mane, you feel a peculiar itching around your nipples. Sliding the curtains of hair resting on your chest aside, and unbuttoning the top four buttons of your shirt and pulling it towards your side, you watch as your nipples, already hard from whatever happened when you drank the tequila and came, puff up, rivulets of sweat beginning to curve off of them as the flesh underneath them swells. "Ah, No. This can’t be happening," you say, your voice cracking slightly, to which you cover your mouth with a hand. Fuck. You feel your lips swelling under your palm, and pull it aside while you scramble for your phone in your pants pockets, desperately reaching for your lifeline The itching and swelling continues slowly as you use your sleeve to wipe the sweat off of your forehead, and you manage to get your phone out of your pocket, struggling with the pockets of your slacks as they tighten, making the phone stick closely to you. Looking at your face with the selfie camera of the phone, sweeping your tresses to the sides, you see that your lips are indeed getting even bigger. They start to purse outward as you turn your head, becoming a dark purple pout. "I can't believe this is happening," You say in a breathy, husky voice that hits a much higher pitch than before. "Ah! Is that my voice?" you say, watching the large lips on the screen form the words. A pulse in your chest draws your eyes back down, as you feel your stomach cave in. You scream, but little comes out as your waist contracts, the air literally forced out of your lungs as they change alongside your proportions. Your nipples grow as you watch, becoming gumdrop sized and firm, the areolas expanding into darker, larger discs. You put your hands on your chest as it heaves for breath, and you feel the swelling increase rapidly. As what you can only describe as breasts begin filling your hands, you try to cry out again for help, but your body is still changing, and the cry gets swallowed by the crunch of your shoulders as they cave inward, and your mouth snaps shut as your jawline begins to collapse to a smaller, angular structure. You look back at your phone, tightly grasped in your hand as pain courses through you and you struggle to breathe through your nose, which is likewise shrinking, becoming a dainty, cute but strong thing between your narrowing but expanding eyes. You watch as your face changes, the ever-growing tits on your chest filling your cupped hands, overflowing with breast. Your eyelashes grow thicker and longer, giving your eyes a feminine beauty. As they become more defined, your big, brown irises take on a darker gleam, almost black, the whites of your eyes losing their bloodshot nature and purifying for a striking look, even as they remain wide with confusion and dismay. You feel your chest stop growing, and your waist stop contracting, and you pull yourself up from where you collapsed on the hard, cold concrete floor, taking as many breaths as your new lips and throat allow. [[Examine the damage.->Examine the Damage4]]

You take a look at the damage in your camera. Your face, you quickly evaluate, has become that of a beautiful, older woman. You have perfectly maintained thin eyebrows with beautiful, sultry black eyes beneath them, the lashes thick enough to eschew mascara, and combined with the clean white and new shining dark of your eyes, they create a striking monochromatic contrast that you can't seem to look away from, until you have to keep going. Your nose is perfect, to say the least. It's cute, it's small and thin, but still strong and well-set. You just want to pinch the high, angular cheekbones surrounding it, but as you continue your survey, you stop on your lips again. You've seen these before, but it's very obvious now - those are some hot lips. Full, luscious, and pursed in a dark purple pout, you don't want to open your mouth because that'll make it yours, and not the reflection in the phone’s. You continue down your neck, now much thinner, and free of its previously jutting Adam's apple, to your chest. With dainty but toned shoulders, your large, spherical breasts sit high and perkily on what used to be your pecs. You estimate from groping them that they're at least E cups, and nice ones, too. As you pinch your newly engorged nipples, your penis, flaccid from the pain of your waist contracting, goes fully erect, and you lose the ability to think for a moment. “Hmmmm,” you exhale from your nose as your mouth forms a tight-lipped smile, your eyes closing, batting their heavy lashes. Those are some sensitive nipples, you think when the pleasure fades. Below those, you unbutton your shirt all the way, looking at your new proportions. Your waist tapers into a very thin core, with a tight, flat stomach flaring into your slightly swollen hips. You put your hands on the sides of your stomach, the masculine fingers mismatching the smooth contours of your feminine torso, and gasp. You feel a sudden pain in your balls. [[This can't be good.->This can’t be good 4.]]

The pain spreads, like the dull sensation of being sack-tapped, but stronger, making its way up your shaft until the whole of your genital area is feeling the ache. "No, no no no no no," you start to repeat, moving your hands down in a feeble attempt to shield your dick from what's going down, zipping down your pants and moving your boxers aside. It's no use, however, and you find yourself clutching at a shrinking stick, desperately trying to pull it back out as your balls start to tuck inside a crevasse forming in your body, and your penis begins to disappear. You cry out with pitiful yelps, but they soon turn to charged moans as the ache turns to pleasure, and instead of pulling your penis out you find your hand - with its fingers shrinking, becoming more delicate, the nails extending to three long centimeters - stroking the shaft as it settles into the top of a cleft where your balls used to be, until, with a wet pop, it shrinks inside, hiding under a hood. You can't stop touching it - you don't want to stop touching it, and with your feminine hands you find it and rub it, the pleasure radiating through your body, fondling yourself under your slowly dampening cotton underwear. As your masturbating on your new clit continues, you look down, face contorted in pleasure, biting your lower lip, as you crumple back to the ground, knees weak. You land on a soft cushion, but looking under you, see nothing. As your right continues rubbing circles on your clit, your left reaches down to grab your ass - and finds a hell of a lot more than it remembered. You hear a ripping from behind you. Shifting to a kneeling position, you lie on your large breasts and stick your ass in the air so you can see it. "Guh," you moan as your wandering fingers begin plunging into the depths of your new gap, thumb still focused on the bump. It's one hell of an ass by any standard, thick, toned, and heart-shaped under quickly pulling apart slacks, threads popping under the strain. You give it a smack with your left, and it jiggles as more seams rip, sending an involuntary smirk and exaggerated cry through your brain and out your mouth as you manage to fit another finger inside you, bringing it up to two. You feel your knees, on the hard storeroom floor, shifting, and watch as your legs begin to shrink, large muscle from long bike rides and leg days consolidating into thick, feminine thighs, pushing the limits of your already tearing pants, and smooth, silky calves with tight muscles that the slacks loosen around. All the hair that used to dust your legs, your arms, your chest and your balls begins to fade away, some of it disappearing into your skin, and some simply falling out. You're left with smooth skin that lightens quickly to a deep tan, and you run lefty over your face, feeling the softness of your cheeks. You take a look at the arm plunging your hand into your body, and notice how it's lost almost all of its bulk, now a shadow of its former self - bicep traded in for long, lean muscle that doesn't bulge or deform, triceps traded for a perfect proportion to your shoulders and chest. You stuff a third finger up your tunnel, fitting three in as your ring finger gets inside. You begin to gasp, your mind already clear of thought, grunting sexy little "Oohhhs"s and "yes"'s into the open air, your eyes rolling up towards the sky. Cresting like a massive wave, you orgasm, newly smooth legs twitching underneath you as you eject your hand and ride out the mental stimulation. "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you scream, slapping your cum-covered hand over your mouth with a wet smack, tongue splaying against the sweet juice. After the wave falls, you flop over, lying on your back. Your raven hair covers parts of your face, and you can taste your own lady cum on your fat lips. "Oooooh. Fuck me," you say, wiping a thin sheen of spit off your chin, smiling in the afterglow of something incredible as your eyes stay shut tight. But you’re still so horny. You feel a need in your new pussy. A hole that needs to be filled. You feel so hot – the same warmth that coursed through you as the beer hit your lips penetrating deep into your core. You pick up your phone, looking at the time – Jesus. Fifteen minutes have passed. You hear a creak that you remember from the door when you entered, and roll your head over, your cheeks flattening the soft waves of your hair, the contact only making your pussy lips twinge, and your long-nailed hand moves back to it, petting your pussy again as your legs twitch. You see a silhouette come through the door, and shine a flashlight across the room until it rests on you. You start sucking your other hand’s fingers, and narrow your eyes, batting your lashes. You can’t think anymore. You need to be fucked. “What the…” It moves closer. "What the fuck is going on?" [[Well, this can't go well.->Well, this can't go well. 3]] <<set $need to $need + 7>> <<set $sub to $sub - 3>> <<set $look to 3>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

You can’t resist. The smell was so good, and you’ve noticed yourself sobering up. A pull can’t hurt. You bring the bottle up to your lips, the edge touching you with an almost electric, familiar feeling. You tilt the bottle back, and take a swig. Wow. That’s some good shit. It rolls down your throat like a smooth wave, the liquid sensuously coursing through you, and you feel a heat, in your stomach, in your throat, and in your genitals. Odd. You find the bottle back on your lips, already taking another drink – though you don’t remember choosing to do so. The aftertaste of the tequila hits you, and you let out a little moan. “GUHHhhhhh.” You freeze. What the fuck was that. You’re even sweating a little. You wipe a palm on your face, and it feels alien to you. Does something feel wet? You look down. There’s a wet spot on your slacks, right over your dick. Did you pee? You touch the spot, and smell your fingers. Nope. You didn’t pee “What the actual fuck,” you vocalize your thoughts. Running your hands over your hair, confused and very disturbed, you notice something. Is it getting thicker? You put a hand through your short, brown hair. Sure feels thicker. You put your left hand up for a feel too, and a thick slash of brownish-red hair falls in front of your eyes. Jesus. What’s happening to you? You brush the invading bangs out of your face behind your ear, and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it towards your eyes. It seems to give, and you gasp, pulling until it's at eye level. Your eyes widen. You give it another pull, and manage to take it all the way down to your chin. "Oh Jesus Fuck," you say, letting go. It only keeps going, and you watch as cascades of Auburn tresses thicken and fall down the sides of your face, running through your upturned palms until you feel a heavy curtain of hair tickling your ass through your slacks and dangling below your belt. As it falls, it becomes more and more shaded, the auburn turning to a very reddish brown until it fades into a deep and vibrant red. "Oh my god. Oh my god," you murmur as your confusion fully evolves into panic, tears rolling from your eyes – which feel pretty damn strange, too. You can't stop touching the new locks of hair curling around your arms, and draped over your chest. There's so much of it, and it's so full. Mouth open wide and tingling, you pull some from the sides into view. Sure enough, it's gorgeous red hair, long and full, thick as hell, and wavy like the crests of a small river. "Look at that color," you mutter, perplexed by why you would notice the absolutely stunning shade of red your hair has become. But it only captures your attention for a moment. [[There's an itching on your chest.->There’s an itching on your chest2]]

Whoo! You've reached the end of today's content. This was a single-day update, clocking in at 6000 words. In two days, that's 13,000. Imagine what a major update will look like! Claire's story will most likely be the continued story, as it's pretty fleshed out, and getting more and more fun. If you'd like to see another path developed, send me a PM or post in the discussion! I hope you enjoyed this update. A note for you - you may want to replay some of the older storyline. You may have missed something - a Bimbo path is now fully integrated into the storyline, and certain events are a little different with that as part of $name's story. That being said - I've started a patreon! If you liked the game, and want to see it continue being updated at a high rate of speed, or if you want to help me be able to buy a new drawing tablet so I can get all these characters illustrated along with their changes, feel free to support it! If not, the game will continue to be free, but releases will be made every 50,000 words. This game will always be free, though. As usual, hmu if there's any bugs! I love squashing them. Thanks!

As you look in shock at your new mane, you feel a peculiar itching around your nipples. Sliding the curtains of hair resting on your chest aside, and unbuttoning the top four buttons of your shirt and pulling it towards your side, you watch as your nipples, already hard from whatever happened when you drank the tequila and came, puff up, rivulets of sweat beginning to curve off of them as the flesh underneath them swells. "Ah, No. This can’t be happening," you say, your voice cracking slightly, to which you cover your mouth with a hand. Fuck. You feel your lips swelling under your palm, and pull it aside while you scramble for your phone in your pants pockets, desperately reaching for your lifeline The itching and swelling continues slowly as you use your sleeve to wipe the sweat off of your forehead, and you manage to get your phone out of your pocket, struggling with the pockets of your slacks as they tighten, making the phone stick closely to you. Looking at your face with the selfie camera of the phone, sweeping your tresses to the sides, you see that your lips are indeed getting even bigger. They start to purse outward as you turn your head, becoming a red pout. "I can't believe this is happening," You say in a melodic, sexy voice that hits a much higher pitch than before. "Ah! Is that my voice?" you say, watching the large lips on the screen form the words. A pulse in your chest draws your eyes back down, as you feel your stomach cave in. You scream, but little comes out as your waist contracts, the air literally forced out of your lungs as they change alongside your proportions. Your nipples grow as you watch, becoming gumdrop sized and puffy, the areolas expanding into darker, larger discs. You put your hands on your chest as it heaves for breath, and you feel the swelling increase rapidly. As what you can only describe as breasts begin filling your hands, you try to cry out again for help, but your body is still changing, and the cry gets swallowed by the crunch of your shoulders as they cave inward, and your mouth snaps shut as your jawline begins to collapse to a smaller, angular structure. You look back at your phone, tightly grasped in your hand as pain courses through you and you struggle to breathe through your nose, which is likewise shrinking, becoming a dainty, cute thing between your narrowing but expanding eyes. You watch as your face changes, the ever-growing tits on your chest filling your cupped hands, overflowing with breast. Your eyelashes grow thicker and longer, giving your eyes a feminine beauty. As they become more defined, your big, brown irises take on a greenish gleam, the whites of your eyes losing their bloodshot nature and purifying for a striking look, even as they remain wide with confusion and dismay. You feel your chest stop growing, and your waist stop contracting, and you pull yourself up from where you collapsed on the hard, cold concrete floor, taking as many breaths as your new lips and throat allow. [[Examine the damage.->Examine the Damage2]]

You take a look at the damage in your camera. Your face, you quickly evaluate, has become that of a beautiful woman. You have perfectly maintained eyebrows with beautiful, sultry green eyes beneath them, the lashes thick enough to eschew mascara, and combined with the clean white and new shining green of your eyes, they create a striking contrast that you can't seem to look away from, until you have to keep going. Your nose is adorable, to say the least. It's cute, it's small and thin. You just want to pinch the high-cheekbones surrounding it, but as you continue your survey, you stop on your lips again. You've seen these before, but it's very obvious now - those are some hot lips. Full, luscious, and pursed in a light-red pout, you don't want to open your mouth because that'll make it yours, and not the reflection in the phone’s. You continue down your neck, now much thinner, and free of its previously jutting Adam's apple, to your chest. With dainty but toned shoulders, your large, spherical breasts sit high and perkily on what used to be your pecs. You estimate from groping them that they're at least DD cups, and nice ones, too. As you pinch your newly engorged nipples, your penis, flaccid from the pain of your waist contracting, goes fully erect, and you lose the ability to think for a moment. Those are some sensitive nipples, you think when the pleasure fades. Below those, you unbutton your shirt all the way, looking at your new proportions. Your waist tapers into a very thin core, with a tight, flat stomach flaring into your slightly swollen hips. You put your hands on the sides of your stomach, the masculine fingers mismatching the smooth contours of your feminine torso, and gasp. You feel a sudden pain in your balls. [[This can't be good.->This can’t be good 2]]

The pain spreads, like the dull sensation of being sack-tapped, but stronger, making its way up your shaft until the whole of your genital area is feeling the ache. "No, no no no no no," you start to repeat, moving your hands down in a feeble attempt to shield your dick from what's going down, zipping down your pants and moving your boxers aside. It's no use, however, and you find yourself clutching at a shrinking stick, desperately trying to pull it back out as your balls start to tuck inside a crevasse forming in your body, and your penis begins to disappear. You cry out with pitiful yelps, but they soon turn to charged moans as the ache turns to pleasure, and instead of pulling your penis out you find your hand - with its fingers shrinking, becoming more delicate, the nails extending to a centimeter - stroking the shaft as it settles into the top of a cleft where your balls used to be, until, with a wet pop, it shrinks inside, hiding under a hood. You can't stop touching it - you don't want to stop touching it, and with your feminine hands you find it and rub it, the pleasure radiating through your body, fondling yourself under your slowly dampening cotton underwear. As your masturbating on your new clit continues, you look down, face contorted in pleasure, biting your lower lip, as you crumple back to the ground, knees weak. You land on a soft cushion, but looking under you, see nothing. As your right continues rubbing circles on your clit, your left reaches down to grab your ass - and finds a hell of a lot more than it remembered. You hear a ripping from behind you. Shifting to a kneeling position, you lie on your large breasts and stick your ass in the air so you can see it. "Guh," you moan as your wandering fingers begin plunging into the depths of your new gap, thumb still focused on the bump. It's one hell of an ass by any standard, thick and heart-shaped under quickly pulling apart slacks, threads popping under the strain. You give it a smack with your left, and it jiggles as more seams rip, sending a euphoric giggle through your brain as you manage to fit another finger inside you, bringing it up to two. You feel your knees, on the hard storeroom floor, shifting, and watch as your legs begin to shrink, large muscle from long bike rides and leg days consolidating into thick, feminine thighs, pushing the limits of your already tearing pants, and smooth, silky calves that the slacks loosen around. All the hair that used to dust your legs, your arms, your chest and your balls begins to fade away, some of it disappearing into your skin, and some simply falling out. You're left with smooth skin that lightens quickly to a paler white, and you run lefty over your face, feeling the softness of your cheeks. You take a look at the arm plunging your hand into your body, and notice how it's lost almost all of its bulk, now a shadow of its former self - bicep traded in for long, lean muscle that doesn't bulge or deform, triceps traded for a perfect proportion to your shoulders and chest. You stuff a third finger up your tunnel, fitting three in as your ring finger gets inside. You begin to gasp, your mind already clear of thought, grunting cute little "Guh"s and "nuh"'s into the open air, your eyes rolling up towards the sky. Cresting like a massive wave, you orgasm, newly smooth legs twitching underneath you as you eject your hand and ride out the mental stimulation. "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you scream, slapping your cum-covered hand over your mouth with a wet smack, tongue splaying against the sweet juice. After the wave falls, you flop over, lying on your back. Your firery hair covers parts of your face, and you can taste your own lady cum on your fat lips. "Oooooh. Fuck me," you say, wiping a thin sheen of spit off your chin, smiling in the afterglow of something incredible as your eyes stay shut tight. But you’re still so horny. You feel a need in your new pussy. A hole that needs to be filled. You feel so hot – the same warmth that coursed through you as the tequila hit your lips penetrating deep into your core. You pick up your phone, looking at the time – Jesus. Fifteen minutes have passed. You hear a creak that you remember from the door when you entered, and roll your head over, your cheeks flattening the soft waves of your hair, the contact only making your pussy lips twinge. You see a silhouette come through the door, and shine a flashlight across the room until it rests on you. “What the…” It moves closer. "What the fuck is going on?" [[Well, this can't go well.]] <<set $need to $need + 4>> <<set $sub to $sub + 3>> <<set $look to 2>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

You can’t resist. The smell was so good, and you’ve noticed yourself sobering up. A swig of the finer stuff can’t hurt. You twist off the steel preventing the pressure from popping the cork, and put your nail underneath it’s edge. You look around – this might be loud, you think. Nah. No one’s around. You flip up your finger, and the cork flys out with a “POP”. You bring the bottle up to your lips as champagne starts to flow from the bottle, splashing and foaming as it drips onto the floor. The edge hits you with an almost electric, familiar feeling. You tilt the bottle back, and take a pull. Wow. That’s some good shit. It rolls down your throat like a smooth wave, the liquid sensuously coursing through you, and you feel a heat, in your stomach, in your throat, and in your genitals. Odd. You find the bottle back on your lips, already taking another drink – though you don’t remember choosing to do so. The sweetness and carbonation rolls around your mouth and tongue, and you let out a bubbly giggle, immediately followed by a breathy moan. “GUHHhhhhh.” You freeze. What the fuck was that. You’re even sweating a little. You wipe a palm on your face, and it feels alien to you. Does something feel wet? You look down. There’s a wet spot on your slacks, right over your dick. Did you pee? You touch the spot, and smell your fingers. Nope. You didn’t pee “What the actual fuck,” you vocalize your thoughts. Running your hands over your hair, confused and very disturbed, you notice something. Is it getting thicker? You put a hand through your short, brown hair. Sure feels thicker. You put your left hand up for a feel too, and a thick slash of blonde-streaked brown hair falls in front of your eyes. Jesus. What’s happening to you? You brush the invading bangs out of your face behind your ear, and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it towards your eyes. It seems to give, and you gasp, pulling until it's at eye level. Your eyes widen. You give it another pull, and manage to take it all the way down to your chin. "Oh Jesus Fuck," you say, letting go. It only keeps going, and you watch as cascades of dirty blonde tresses thicken and fall down the sides of your face, running through your upturned palms until you feel a heavy curtain of hair tickling your ass through your slacks and dangling below your belt. As it falls, it becomes more and more shaded, the dirty blonde purifying to a very sheik blonde until it fades into a honey gold. "Oh my god. Oh my god," you murmur as your confusion fully evolves into panic, tears rolling from your eyes – which feel pretty damn strange, too. You can't stop touching the new locks of hair curling around your arms, and draped over your chest. There's so much of it, and it's so full. Mouth open wide and tingling, you pull some from the sides into view. Sure enough, it's gorgeous blonde hair, long and full, thick as hell, and wavy like the crests of a small river. "Look at that color," you mutter, perplexed by why you would notice the absolutely stunning shade of gold your hair has become. But it only captures your attention for a moment. [[There's an itching on your chest.->There's an itching on your chest 5.]]

You lug the case up, deciding to forgo taking a taste - for now - to save the champagne for a post-game celebration. Looking around for some way to easily get the crate back to the car, you spot a small metal cart in the corner of the room with a half-keg on it. Removing the keg, you slide the cart under the keg, and tilt it back. Wheeling it to the door, you swing it open, and roll the cart out. As you begin to approach the car, wheels grinding on the asphalt, you see your friends cheering inside the car, Wrench frantically pumping a fist up and down as you sidle up to the hatchback. Knocking on the trunk, Jake pops it open, and with a hydraulic hiss you pull it open. Will has exited the car to help you, and sees the box of champagne. "Damn. Feeling fancy tonight, are we?" You smile, "Fuck yeah I am. A king logo for a king." You both heft the crate up and into the trunk, among your skis, an empty gym bag, and old glass bottles. You open the back door, and return to your seat, buckling up quickly. It's time to get going. The night's still young. As your friends slap you on the back, Ozzy punching the roof estatically, Dave looking over the back seat at the case, you formulate your plan for the night. [[To Nico's!]] [[Wrench is right. Let's see some titties.->To the Strip Club.]] [[You're feeling a Latin flair. Hit the salsa club.->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [[Maybe you just want to go home, call a couple girls, and drink some champagne.]]

Wrench leans back in his seat, a dejected sigh forming out of his mouth, crossing his arms. "Fine," he says. "So where are we headed?" "It's cool. I mean, my friend's been texting me to come ever since he got into the Salsa club. He says it's packed with wall-to-wall Latinas and tequila," Ozzy chimes. "I still vote strip club," Wrench says, a smile forming out of his disappointed face, cupping imaginary tits around his seat belt. "We still have that connect at Nico's, and it's a late-night bar. Plus it's absolutely crazy on nights like this," Will says, gesturing to you thoughtfully. [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]] [[Aight, Will. If you can get us in, that'd be awesome. Jake, let's get to Nico's.->To Nico's 2]]

You fall in behind Wrench. Fuck these little preppy douchebags. Sure, there's eight of them and seven of you. Plus, they seem to work out. And you're pretty drunk. But hey, what's a birthday without a fight? Your crew starts to follow the two of you in as theirs turns to face you. [[Thump.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

You resign yourself to wait. "Everybody calm the fuck down. We'll wait. It's my birthday, so I say we wait," you say, to the grumbling of Wrench. You all strike up some conversation about various things, from sports to television to the defense budget of the United States until twenty minutes later, you've moved like eight steps ahead. The line seems endless: you've barely moved, and the more sober you get, the worse it seems. You're sweating in your jacket, and everyone is getting a little pent up now. There's no way you want to wait in this whole line. You'll still have to wait at the bar to even get drinks. You've still got Will's connection to the not-present bouncer. Also, the girl in the black dress who Trev thinks is your ex is still there. What should you do? [[Send Will to talk to the bouncer.]] [[That girl's still there. You squint - could that be ''Claire''? Maybe you should take a closer look?->Shit. Is that your ex?]] [[Nope. I wanted to wait. So, I'm waiting. Jesus, be patient.]]

As frat boy one, the "suck my dick" champion, aims to get in Wrench's face, Wrench caves in his skull with an angry, brutal head-butt. Frat boy one goes down, and the rest of his crew takes a few steps back. Say what you will about Wrench, but damn - his skull is thick. And nothing says, "maybe this isn't a good plan," like watching your bro get his head smashed in. There's a moment of complete silence between your two groups, with small gasps and "Oh shit"s coming from the small amount of spectators. Then, frat boy one starts yelling. "Ah fuck! You broke my nose. You crazy fuck, my nose!" He's holding his face on the ground, blood streaming between his fingers. You look at Wrench. He looks back at you. He shrugs. Unfortunately, head-butts don't tend to go unnoticed on crowded streets. The Bouncer at the front of the line hears the yelling, and starts to head over, closing the rope inside while he deals with the other half of his job. "We should dip," Dave says. "We'll be fine," Ozzy retorts. "My fucking nose," yells the little bitch. What do you do? [[Dip.]] [[Stay and face the music]]

"Will. You said you had a connection with a bouncer? Now's the time to use it," you say. Will nods. "Finally. I'll go have a chat with this giant." He heads toward the Cena-sized bouncer, the girl in the black dress extinguishing her smoke with a pointed, black heel and heading inside. The bouncer leans in to hear Will as he puts a friendly hand on his soccer-ball sized shoulder once he reaches him. They exchange a few words, and the bouncer points inside. Will nods, and the bouncer pulls out his phone, typing. They stand for a couple more seconds before the bouncer glances down at his phone again, and nods, holding the rope open. Will turns to you and waves you over. The six of you walk over to Will, and the bouncer nods. "Any friend of Jamal's," he says, following it up with a crack about how this ruins the ratio. You all duck under the rope, and slip inside. Finally. It was time to get fucked up. As you walk in, however, you run into someone you know. Tapping a box of cigarettes to take one out as she walks towards the entrance, an absolutely stunning, auburn-haired girl looks up at you as you approach her. "$name?" Well, Shit. That's ''Claire''. Your ex. Guess Trev was right. For once. Well? Say something! [["Oh Shit! Claire! You're looking fine as all hell!"->Inside with Claire_1]] [["Claire! It's great to see you! You look amazing, as always."->Inside with Claire_1]] [["AHHHHHHHH!"->Inside with Claire_1]] [["Claire! How nice to see you - I've been meaning to call you and catch up. Would you like to step outside and talk for a while?"->Inside with Claire_1]]

As you slowly move towards the bouncer, you look closer at the girl. A black, backless dress over C-cup breasts and a thin waist with nice curves. Thick, wavy auburn hair down to her mid back, gleaming in the street lights. Tall heels with sharp points, leading up toned legs to a perky, tight ass. She's smoking a cigarette through small, dainty hands, light-pink shaded lips pursed around the end. You remember those lips, soft and supple - and your eyes move up to hers. Beautiful green, her shadowed eyes blink under thick lashes as she exhales smoke, and they slowly turn until they meet yours from far away. Her forehead scrunches, the perfect lines of her striking face crumpling in confusion, and then - excitement? You can make out the word she's saying, though you can't hear it, as you see those stunning lips move. "$name?" [[Exit the line and walk over, tentatively]] [[Run. RUN.->Run. RUN.2]]

You stand. Stand and stand and stand, sobering up completely by the time you make it to the door at 1:30. Every one of your friends, at this point, is sweaty, sober, and angry. You may have made a mistake. The girl in the black dress had long since gone back inside, extinguishing her cigarette under a sharp, black heel - so if it was ''Claire'', you won't know until you get past the bouncer. Jesus. When you finally get up to him, you realize how absolutely gigantic this man is. He's probably about seven feet tall, with enough muscles to lift a couple of cars. He looks down at you as you shakily hold out your ID. He looks at it. Looks down at you. Looks at the ID. Bends the ID. "This is a fake. Go somewhere else," the man grunts in a massively deep voice. The mountain pushes you aside and goes through the same steps, despite the feeble "What?" you manage to squeak out, with your friends. "These are all fake. Go home." Wrench scrunches his face in anger. Will looks at you expectantly. Ozzy smiles and starts doing a little salsa dance. What do you do? [[Have Will drop a name.->Send Will to talk to the bouncer.1]] [[Say fuck it and go back to the car.->Say fuck it and go back to the car.2]]

As you approach, she drops the glowing butt of her smoke and puts it out with the point of her heel. "$name?" Well, Shit. You're 100% sure of it now. That's ''Claire''. Your ex. Guess Trev was right. For once. Well? Say something! [["Oh Shit! Claire! You're looking fine as all hell!"->Outside with Claire1]] [["Claire! It's great to see you! You look amazing, as always."->Outside with Claire1]] [["AHHHHHHHH!"->Outside with Claire1]] [["Claire! How nice to see you - I've been meaning to call you and catch up. Would you like to step outside and talk for a while?"->Outside with Claire3]]

At the sight of your gorgeous ex-girlfriend, in that spectacular backless, short dress, you nearly swallow your tongue. As she starts walking towards you, you turn to your friends at your back, panickedly whispering, “Run.” They don’t have to be told twice, and you all half-walk, half-sprint away, Claire calling out behind you, “$name?” as you round the corner onto a safe side-street, you glance back, and see her shaking her head as she puts out her cigarette with a tall, sharp heel, and turns back to reenter the bar. Confused as to why you all left so rapidly, Ozzy speaks up as you’re walking back to Jake and the car – he started his transfer in after you ended things with Claire, and had never seen the girl in person. “Yo, so who was that? She was fine. Why’d we dip?” Wrench looks at him and shakes his head, wiping a little frat boy blood of his face. “That was Claire, man. Claire.” Recognition dawns on Ozzy’s face. “Ah.” He thinks for a moment, then turns to you, hands up in a placating “who gives a shit” sort-of shrug. "Ah come on, man, who cares! I'm telling you it'll be fine - plus, damn – did you look at those girls?" Ozzy says, gesturing like he was fondling the asses of some of the ladies from the line. "Nah, $name is right - fuck this," Dave backs you up, slapping you on the back. "And it's his birthday, Ozzy, not yours." "Fine. I mean, my friend's been texting me to come ever since he got into the Salsa club. He says it's packed with wall-to-wall Latinas and tequila." "I still vote strip club," Wrench says, cupping imaginary tits as you exit the line hurriedly and walk away. [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 2>>

You freeze. Addled by liquor and sudden appearance of Claire, your brain stumbles over itself trying to say the words in your head, but gives up and just hopes she'll respond to the simple question, "Claire?". "$name!" she says, "I haven't seen you in forever!" You're a little shocked she hasn't tried to stab you or told the bouncer to turn you into a compact cube yet. She's even smiling, perfect white teeth contrasting against the light pink of her fantastic, supple lips. You forgot how nice her smile was - and her lips. Unfortunately, your reminiscing leads to you not keeping up with the conversation, and a moment of awkward silence, punctuated by groans from frat boy on the sidewalk, stands. Will steps in to your apparent rescue. "Shit! Claire! It's been a while. I haven't seen you since...," and realizing where he's going, Will falls silent. Claire, staring directly into your eyes with her beautifully shadowed, thick-lashed green eyes, pulls her gaze away from you with what seems like an eternity of effort, and looks to Will. "Since $name and I broke up, right? Are you guys out for $name's birthday? I'd ask him, but he seems to have gone mute or something." You snap back into the conversation. "Yeah! Yeah, it's my birthday. Uh. We were hoping to get in here - then we got stuck in this line." Nick adds on, "Yep - It's like we're waiting for a new iPhone," and Wrench cringes. Under his breath - directed to Nick - he murmurs, "Shut up and don't speak anymore." Claire smiles, dazzling you and your friends. You swear to yourself that since you dated, she's absolutely blossomed into a goddess. She was nice-looking when you dated, but now - Jesus. "Yeah - this is a pretty big night for Nico's," she laughs, a melodic chuckle that makes you wonder why you broke up in the first place. "But hey! It's great to see you, and I'm glad you all are still friends. Why don't you come in with me? I'm working, but I'll be around!" You can't turn down that kind of invitation - skip the line and probably the ID check? As apprehensive about seeing her again as you are, you can't pass on this. You nod, and smile at her. Those gorgeous green eyes meet yours, lashes dropping as she smiles back with a flirtatious charm. "Follow me!" Walking with an eye-catching sway to her hips, she puts an arm on the bouncer’s waist. "Hey Turk! These are my old friends from back in high school. Can they follow me inside?" She adds her smile and an eye flutter to the question as extra punctuation, and the massive bouncer crumples like a card house. "Any friend of Claire's," he says, nodding at you all as you slip under the rope. "Welcome to Nico's - don't forget to get your wristbands." Claire turns back to you, looking over her shoulder. "I'll be at the bar - gotta earn those tips. Find me later!" She touches your arm softly as she heads back in. [[Enter the Club. Finally.]]

As the line outside would suggest, the club is packed to the walls. In the dark circular room that makes up the main area of the bar, there are enough people to fill a small town, and your eyes wander amongst the stunning array of women that make up the majority of the occupants. "Dayum," Nick whistles. "Fuck - I haven't seen a crowd this hot since I watched Brazzer's reality show." "Nick. Seriously - shut up," Will snips, but he's smiling. It really is an incredibly gorgeous crowd. Ozzy has already started making his way to the bar to get a wristband, a ten already in his hand. You like where his head's at, and plunge into the crowd. [[Get to the bar.]]

The bar is a circular ordeal in the center of the room, with a pillar at the middle. You push and shove your way towards the marble counter, and end up next to Ozzy. You're way too sober for this, and you've drank a good amount. Pulling a ten from your wallet, and putting it back in your slack's rear pocket, you look over at your friend. He looks back, mouthing the words "Open bar" over and over with a wide grin, the pumping base pulsating through your feet. You can't seem to get the attention of a bartender. Ozzy can't either. All you need to do is get your ten to them and get the wristbands so you can start tanking the shit out of this place. What's your play? [[Wait. It's a bar. It's busy.]] [[Try to get a bartender's attention with your cash.]] [[Try to get one of the women around you to get you some attention.]]

"Will. You said you had a connection with a bouncer? Now's the time to use it," you say. Will nods. "Finally. I'll go have a chat with this giant." He heads toward the Cena-sized bouncer, who leans in to hear him as Will puts a friendly hand on his soccer-ball sized shoulder. They exchange a few words, and the bouncer points inside. Will nods, and the bouncer pulls out his phone, typing. They stand for a couple more seconds before the bouncer glances down at his phone again, and nods, holding the rope open. Will turns to you and waves you over. The six of you walk over to Will, and the bouncer nods. "Any friend of Jamal's. You should've said something before I carded you," he says, following it up with a crack about how this ruins the ratio. You all duck under the rope, and slip inside. Finally. It was time to get fucked up. As you walk in, however, you run into someone you know. Tapping a box of cigarettes to take one out as she walks towards the entrance, an absolutely stunning, auburn-haired girl looks up at you as you approach her. "$name?" Well, Shit. That's ''Claire''. Your ex. Guess Trev was right. For once. Well? Say something! [["Oh Shit! Claire! You're looking fine as all hell!"->Inside with Claire_1]] [["Claire! It's great to see you! You look amazing, as always."->Inside with Claire_1]] [["AHHHHHHHH!"->Inside with Claire_1]] [["Claire! How nice to see you - I've been meaning to call you and catch up. Would you like to step outside and talk for a while?"->Inside with Claire_2]]

"This isn't fucking worth it, fellas. Let's hit something else - it's not that late, I guess," you say to your crew. "Ah, come on, man, it's so worth it - look at these girls!" Will says, gesturing at the asses of some of the ladies in line. "Nah, $name is right - fuck this," Wrench backs you up, slapping you on the back. "And it's his birthday, Will, not yours." "Fine. Where the hell are we going, then? I promise you it won't be as lit as here. We should try to do something." "I mean, my friend's been texting me to come ever since he got into the Salsa club. He says it's packed with wall-to-wall Latinas and tequila." "I still vote strip club," Wrench says, cupping imaginary tits. [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]]

You freeze. Addled by liquor and sudden appearance of Claire, your brain stumbles over itself trying to say the words in your head, but gives up and just hopes she'll respond to the simple question, "Claire?". You take a closer look at your ex. A black, backless dress over C-cup breasts and a thin waist with nice curves. Thick, wavy auburn hair down to her mid back, gleaming in the street lights. Tall heels with sharp points, leading up toned legs to a perky, tight ass. She's holding a pack of cigarettes with small, dainty hands, light-pink shaded lips opening in a perplexed smile. You remember those lips, soft and supple - and your eyes move up to hers. Beautiful green, her shadowed eyes blink under thick lashes. Her forehead is a little scrunched at seeing you, the perfect lines of her striking face crumpled in confusion, and then becoming - excitement? You can make out the word she's saying, though you can't hear it, as you see those stunning lips move. "$name!" she says, "I haven't seen you in forever!" You're a little shocked she hasn't tried to stab you or told the bouncer that's only a few steps behind you to turn you into a compact cube yet. She's even smiling now, perfect white teeth contrasting against the light pink of her fantastic lips. You forgot how nice her smile was - and her lips. Unfortunately, your reminiscing leads to you not keeping up with the conversation, and a moment of awkward silence. Will steps in to your apparent rescue. "Shit! Claire! It's been a while. I haven't seen you since...," and realizing where he's going, Will falls silent. Claire, staring directly into your eyes with her beautifully shadowed, thick-lashed green eyes, pulls her gaze away from you with what seems like an eternity of effort, and looks to Will. "Since $name and I broke up, right? Are you guys out for $name's birthday? I'd ask him, but he seems to have gone mute or something." You snap back into the conversation. "Yeah! Yeah, it's my birthday. Uh. We just got in here - we got stuck in that line." Nick adds on, "Yep - It's like we were waiting for a new iPhone," and Wrench cringes. Under his breath - directed to Nick - he murmurs, "Shut up and don't speak anymore." Claire smiles, dazzling you and your friends. You swear to yourself that since you dated, she's absolutely blossomed into a goddess. She was nice-looking when you dated, but now - Jesus. "Yeah - this is a pretty big night for Nico's," she laughs, a melodic chuckle that makes you wonder why you broke up in the first place. "But hey! It's great to see you, and I'm glad you all are still friends. Why don't you find me later? I'm working - gotta earn those tips - but I'll be around!" You nod, and smile at her. Those gorgeous green eyes meet yours, lashes dropping as she smiles back with a flirtatious charm. She touches your arm softly as she walks by. "See ya soon!" [[Well, you're inside.->Enter the Club. Finally.]]

You freeze. Addled by liquor and sudden appearance of Claire, your brain stumbles over itself trying to say the words in your head, but gives up and just hopes she'll respond to the simple question, "Claire?" you asked a moment ago. "$name?" she says, "I haven't seen you in forever!" You're a little shocked she hasn't tried to stab you or told the bouncer to turn you into a compact cube yet. She's even smiling, perfect white teeth contrasting against the light pink of her fantastic, supple lips. You forgot how nice her smile was - and her lips. Unfortunately, your reminiscing leads to you not keeping up with the conversation, and a moment of awkward silence, punctuated by groans from frat boy on the sidewalk, stands. Will steps in to your apparent rescue. "Shit! Claire! It's been a while. I haven't seen you since...," and realizing where he's going, Will falls silent. Claire, staring directly into your eyes with her beautifully shadowed, thick-lashed green eyes, pulls her gaze away from you with what seems like an eternity of effort, and looks to Will. "Since $name and I broke up, right? Are you guys out for $name's birthday? I'd ask him, but he seems to have gone mute or something." "Yeah," Wrench replies for Will. "We ran into a little resistance, though," he smirks as he wipes frat boy blood of his cheek. Claire swings her head towards the bouncer, Turk, flipping her long, auburn hair with melodic waves over her small shoulder. "Heya Turk. How about we cut my friends a break," she smiles, "and get them in? It's $name's birthday and I like these guys." The bouncer, still staring directly at Wrench, narrows his eyes. He looks at you, and turns to Claire. Almost immediately, his focused gaze softens. "Hm." He nods, looking back at your crew. "Aight. You all," he says, gesturing at the frat, "get out or I'll take you out." He looks to you. "You six can come in." The frat collectively looks up and down at the bouncer, then at their friend on the floor. Picking him up, they shuffle out, making sure to call you and your crew all the obscenities in the book. They're gone before Dave realizes an error in the bouncer's math. "But there's seven of us," Dave counts, "I'm pretty sure there's seven." he looks around. "Head-butt bro can't come in," Turk states. "It's not happening." Claire frowns, but receives a firm exchange of looks with the bouncer. She shrugs at you, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. Goddamn. The eye contact with this girl is giving you all sorts of feelings. You look at Wrench. "Give us one sec," you say, and the seven of you quickly huddle. "What do you guys want to do," you ask, "We can't leave Wrench behind." Wrench shakes his head. "Fuck that. Claire is here and you're eye-fucking the shit out of each other. I'm fine being a martyr. Get some." Will nods in agreement. "If it was me -which it wouldn't because I'm not an animal - I would do the same. We have to stay." Ozzy looks at all of you. "Hey, I'm fine with staying if Wrench is fine with hanging out for a while, but I still vote for Salsa. My friend said that there are wall-to-wall Latinas there right now, and the tequila is flowing." Dave just looks at you. "It's your birthday, $name. Your call." Trevor squints. "Y'all can't be serious. We don't leave a man behind. If you go in, I'm staying with Wrench. We'll hit one of the other bars here and catch up with y'all later." Nick just grins. "This is an awesome night, guys. Totally awesome." "And just as a side note, there's still the strip club?" Wrench follows, with a pleading look on his face. So, what do you do? [[Stay. You'd like to see where this goes with Claire.->Outside with Claire_2]] [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]]

At the sight of your gorgeous ex-girlfriend, in a spectacular backless, short dress, you nearly swallow your tongue. “I’m sorry, sir, we’ll just be leaving now,” you hurriedly stammer to the bouncer. Turning to your friends behind you, you panickedly whisper, “Run.” They don’t have to be told twice, and you all half-walk, half-sprint away, Claire calling out behind you, “$name?” as you round the corner onto a safe side-street, you glance back, and see her shaking her head as she puts out her cigarette with a tall, sharp heel, and turns back to reenter the bar. Confused as to why you all left so rapidly, Ozzy speaks up as you’re walking back to Jake and the car – he started his transfer in after you ended things with Claire, and had never seen the girl in person. “Yo, so who was that? She was fine. Why’d we dip?” Wrench looks at him and shakes his head, wiping a little frat boy blood of his face. “That was Claire, man. Claire.” Recognition dawns on Ozzy’s face. “Ah.” He thinks for a moment, then turns to you, hands up in a placating “who gives a shit” sort-of shrug. "Ah come on, man, who cares! I'm telling you it'll be fine - plus, damn – did you look at those girls?" Ozzy says, gesturing like he was fondling the asses of some of the ladies from the line. "Nah, $name is right - fuck this," Dave backs you up, slapping you on the back. "And it's his birthday, Ozzy, not yours." "Fine. I mean, my friend's been texting me to come ever since he got into the Salsa club. He says it's packed with wall-to-wall Latinas and tequila." "I still vote strip club," Wrench says, cupping imaginary tits as you exit the line hurriedly and walk away. [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 2>>

"This isn't fucking worth it, fellas. Let's hit something else - it's barely past midnight, and I don't want to deal with the Mountain over there," you say to your crew, gesturing at the seven-foot, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound bouncer heading your way. "Ah, come on, man, I'm telling you it'll be fine - plus, damn - look at these girls!" Ozzy says, gesturing at the asses of some of the ladies in line. "Nah, $name is right - fuck this," Dave backs you up, slapping you on the back. "And it's his birthday, Ozzy, not yours." "Fine. I mean, my friend's been texting me to come ever since he got into the Salsa club. He says it's packed with wall-to-wall Latinas and tequila." "I still vote strip club," Wrench says, cupping imaginary tits as you exit the line hurriedly and walk away. [["You had me at Tequila."->Fuck it, Let's Salsa!]] [["Hey, at least we're pretty much guaranteed entry to the strip club."->To the Strip Club.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

As the seven-foot-tall bouncer approaches, massive muscles bulging through his charcoal T-shirt, you courageously stand your ground. Fuck this frat prick and his little groupies. You came here to get drunk and you're not passing on an open bar, even when the fucking Mountain is coming at you. "All of you out of line. Get out of here," the Mountain booms, pointing towards the opposite street. "What? He broke my fucking nose," Frat boy repeats. "Jesus fucking Christ, shut the fuck up!" Wrench yells down at him. "I don't care who hit who or which of you did what, you all have to leave," the bouncer shortly states, crossing his arms which you estimate to be about as thick as your torso. He takes a menacing step forward At that moment, a small hand grabs his shoulder. "Turk, wait a sec. Shiiiitt." A small woman in a black dress, holding a lit cig in one hand and the beast about to assault you in the other steps out from the his shadow. "''Claire''?" you wrinkle your brow. Shit. That's your ex. Trevor, for once in his life, was right. [["Well, well, well."]] [[Run. RUN.]]

You're going in. Sure, Wrench and Trev are dropping out for a while, but it's worth it - you have to see where this goes. "Wrench. Trev. It's been an honor serving with you. Text me where you end up and we'll meet up later," you say as you all stand up out of the huddle. Giving a mock salute, Wrench smiles. He turns, putting his arm around Trev. As they walk away, you hear him say, "Trev, ma boy. Let's go get wrecked." Turning back to Claire, you smile, regaining your composure. Looking at her, all curves and striking features, you swear to yourself she's gotten way hotter since you dated. Not that she wasn't cute as all hell when you did - but now, the girl is a goddess. "We're going to meet up with them later," you say, locked into her eyes. "But we're totally in for this special!" She smiles again, nearly knocking you to the floor. "Yeah - this is a pretty big night for Nico's," she laughs, a melodic chuckle that makes you wonder why you broke up in the first place. "But hey! It's great to see you, and I'm glad you all are still friends. Why don't you come in with me? I'm working, but I'll be around!" You nod vigorously as it's easier than words at the moment, and smile at her, grinning like an idiot - it's become your only form of communication. Those gorgeous green eyes meet yours, lashes dropping with a flirtatious charm. "Follow me!" Walking with an eye-catching sway to her hips, she puts an arm on the bouncer’s waist as she passes by him. "Any friend of Claire's," he says, "except violent ones," nodding at you all as you slip under the rope. "Welcome to Nico's - don't forget to get your wristbands. And stay out of trouble!" Claire turns back to you, looking over her shoulder. "I'll be at the bar - gotta earn those tips. Find me later!" She touches your arm softly as she heads back in. [[Enter the Club. Finally.]]

You stand patiently. It's a bar, they'll get to you eventually. You look around at the place, seeing the DJ in the corner booth pumping next to two smoking blondes. You see tables with bottle service packed by rich men and women, couples making out on walls and couches. This place is rolling tonight. There's thousands of plastic cups scattered on ledges and the floor as asses grind and hips sway. Before long, a cute redheaded bartender is standing in front of you, and looks at you expectantly. You point to your wrist and hold out the ten. She nods, taking it and putting it in her bra with a tight-lipped smile, and pulls a wristband from under the counter. She motions for your arm, and you hold it out. Taking you by the wrist, she places it on you, being careful to leave enough room. She looks up, and leans forward, showing a hell of a lot of cleavage. Watching your eyes drift downward, her smile widens, and she slowly lets go of your wrist, running her hand along your palm. Blowing you a kiss, she mouths "order from me", and takes a cheat bottle from the bar back, pouring a greenish substance into double shot glasses, and topping it off with a dash from an orange and red bottle. She slides one to you, and motions for you to take it. [[Take the shot]] [[Ask what it is]] <<set $integrity to $integrity + 1>>

You lean over the bar and put the ten in front of you, like a beacon for a sinking ship. Trying to make eye contact with any one of six bartenders walking in circles taking drink orders, you look at them and then at your cash. It doesn't seem to be working, though, the bartenders clearly seeing your ten and ignoring it to make rum and cokes for any of the patrons except you. After a couple minutes of failed glances, one of the bartenders helps Ozzy get a band, and he points to you as well. With a grudging look, he takes your money and puts a wristband on your arm - although rather tightly. Passing Ozzy a rum and coke, you try to get a word in, but his back's already to you. Looks like you aren't the most popular buyer in this place. But fuck, at least you have the band. [[You've got the bands. Get to Drinkin']] [[Go to the bathroom so they forget your face.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

You look around, assuming that a woman would get faster service in the bar than you. Peering around in the semi-darkness, you look for a hot single woman - and see plenty. Large groups of them, in fact. But as you try to make eye contact with any of the possible candidates, none will meet your gaze. In fact, some stare right through you. Odd, you think. You run a hand over your face. Nope, still handsome. You try tapping the woman next you, a blonde with a nice pair of shoulders (you can only see her back). She ignores you. Not wanting to call too much attention to yourself, you cancel that play. You grit your teeth, and call operation honeypot off. I guess it's just a waiting game. Or maybe there's something you can do, still? [[Wait. It's a bar. It's busy.]] [[Try to get a bartender's attention with your cash.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

You lean closer to her, picking up the double. She leans in, and her hair swings forward, brushing against your cheek. You give her a puzzled look, but pick up the drink and lift it up to chest height. She leans back, smiling, her sky-blue eyes crinkled in laughter. She puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head, jiggling her good-sized breasts, and you can't help but look at them again. She brings the shot up, right to her tits, expectantly, and you don't really have a choice at this point. That shot is getting taken. She leans forward, glass pressed against her cleavage, and you hesitantly bump yours against hers. With a laugh, she downs the double in one gulp, and feeling like you have to remain on equal footing, you do the same. It's a pretty good shot, you have to say. Tastes a good amount like orange and cranberry juice, with a lot of types of alcohol in it. You lick your lips where a little leftover remains, and shoot your new drinking buddy a hopefully charming smile. Leaning back over the bar, you ask, "So now that I've taken it, what is it?" She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "It's called Death by Sex. Find me after we close and you might get to experience it." She kisses your earlobe, pulling it a little as she slowly moves away. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, the red catching the strobing lights of the bar, she looks back and winks as she heads to another order on the opposite side. Your mouth is open wide, and you're suddenly adjusting your pants, staring at her ass, straining against her small black skirt as she walks away. Goddamn. You look over to where Ozzy was a minute ago, and he's still there. Staring at you. Mouth also open. "Goddamn," he says, with an exuberant head nod. "Right? RIGHT?" you say, thrilled as all hell. "This is going to be a great fucking night," you say as you turn and lean your back against the bar. The rest of your crew sidles up, drinks in hand, at least three each. "WHOOOOOoooooo!" Nick yells into the noise, almost drowned out by the bass, but loud enough to turn a couple heads. "Right. Let's get fucked up," Will says, smiling, as he begins to down his first - a whiskey and coke, you'd assume. You turn back to the bar to order a mixed drink, and a different male bartender takes your order (somewhat disappointingly). [[Get a whiskey and coke.->Drink in hand.]] [[You're feeling like vodka and sprite.->Drink in hand.]] [[Something bitter. Maybe a G&T?->Drink in hand.]] [[Fuck rail drinks. Order a vodka neat, you savage.->Drink in hand.]]

You lean closer to her, picking up the double. She leans in, and her hair swings forward, brushing against your cheek. "What is this?" you ask. She leans back, smiling, her sky-blue eyes crinkled in laughter. She puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head, jiggling her good-sized breasts, and you can't help but look at them again. She brings the shot up, expectantly, and you don't really have a choice at this point. You raise your glass, and bump it against hers. She downs the double in one gulp, and feeling like you have to remain on equal footing, you do the same. It's a pretty good shot, you have to say. Tastes a good amount like orange and cranberry juice, with a lot of types of alcohol in it. You lick your lips where a little leftover remains, and shoot your new drinking buddy a puzzled look. Leaning back over the bar, you ask, "So now that I've taken it, what is it?" She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "It's called Death by Sex. Find me after we close and you might get to experience it." She kisses your earlobe, pulling it a little as she slowly moves away. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, the red catching the strobing lights of the bar, she looks back and winks as she heads to another order on the opposite side. Your mouth is open wide, and you're suddenly adjusting your pants, staring at her ass, straining against her small black skirt as she walks away. Goddamn. You look over to where Ozzy was a minute ago, and he's still there. Staring at you. Mouth also open. "Goddamn," he says, with an exuberant head nod. "Right? RIGHT?" you say, thrilled as all hell. "This is going to be a great fucking night," you say as you turn and lean your back against the bar. The rest of your crew sidles up, drinks in hand, at least three each. "WHOOOOOoooooo!" Nick yells into the noise, almost drowned out by the bass, but loud enough to turn a couple heads. "Right. Let's get fucked up," Will says, smiling, as he begins to down his first - a whiskey and coke, you'd assume. You turn back to the bar to order a mixed drink, and a different male bartender takes your order (somewhat disappointingly). [[Get a whiskey and coke.->Drink in hand.]] [[You're feeling like vodka and sprite.->Drink in hand.]] [[Something bitter. Maybe a G&T?->Drink in hand.]] [[Fuck rail drinks. Order a vodka neat, you savage.->Drink in hand.]]

You've got a drink. You've got friends. This is gonna be a pretty sick night - but first, you've gotta reignite the fires of your drunkenness. You raise a cheer with your plastic cup, the cheap alcohol glimmering inside amongst the lights. "TO ME!" you yell, half joking. "TO BEING A FUCKING MAN!" Will throws in. "TO GETTING FUCKED UP LIKE NO ONE GETS FUCKED UP," finishes Dave. You all down your first drink in one gulp. Damn. They were strong as fuck. You gag a little, holding down your liquor. Barely. Looking up from your shoes, you see your friends have done the same, which makes you feel a lot better about nearly puking almost immediately on entry. You feel a hand on your waist, and turn to see a tiny, auburn haired girl. It's Claire. Why is she being so friendly, you wonder to yourself. Then, Dave hands you another drink. This time, it looks to be a vodka and sprite or a gin and tonic. You look at Claire to your side, and say, "Hey!", eloquent as always. "Hey!" she parrots, smiling and leaning in, nearly nuzzling her cheek to your chest. "I'm done with my shift - and looking to drink. I assume you guys are down?" She looks around at the vast collection of drinks you've acquired, as Ozzy gets back from the bar with five more. How is he doing this? He looks at you, then looks at her, then looks at her legs. Making your choice for you, he hands her a drink, his trademark ultra-cheerful grin on his face. [[I guess you've got a new drinking pal. And it's your ex. Who is currently fondling your ass with her wandering hand.]]

You try waiting for a bartender to come help you, but none do. You pull away from the bar, giving up your spot to a couple, as you turn around. Your friends are all there, with drinks already - three or four each, from the looks of it. "No drink?" Dave asks, puzzled. "Yeah, I don't think you're supposed to flash cash at the bar," you say, realizing how inexperienced you are at this whole thing. "I'm drinkless!" you throw up your hands in overstated exasperation. The pity play works. Nick sighs, and hands you one of the drinks braced under his arm. "Now, you owe me two." You nod, accepting the terms of his drink loan. So, this is it. You look around, [[Drink in hand.]]

You decide to pop into the bathroom for a quick second so they forget your face, realizing that gesturing cash in a bar is probably considered rude. Justifying it in your head as the learning curve of youth, you push your way through the throngs of sweaty people to the can. Stepping past the security man at the door, you slip your way into the restroom. What you would assume is elegant on nights not like this, Nico's men's smells like piss and puke. You nod at the attendant in the corner, and proceed to the urinals. One is open, the other in use. [[There's only two. Urinal law states you can use the open one.]] [[Nah. You never piss directly next to another man.]]

You step towards the urinal, unzipping your pants. Avoiding looking over at your fellow pisser, you stare at your own dick. "Not bad," you say. That gets you a look. Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought back there. When you finish, the other man is still going. Impressive. You zip up your pants, wash your hands, and tip the attendant a dollar. Then, you head back to the bar. [[Back to the Bar.]]

You reject the urinal, and stand awkwardly behind the pissing man. Shuffling your feet a little, you wait to hear the telltale sound of the stream dying down, but it doesn't. You check your phone a couple minutes later. He's still going. You look at the bathroom attendant, who gives you a puzzled look. He points to the open urinal. You shake your head, and he rolls his eyes. Another minute later, the dripping noise starts as this man's bladder finally runs out. He looks at you as he turns around, zipping up his pants, and gives you the side-eye. You move to the urinal, and piss. A lot of drinks leave your body. After you're done, you tip the attendant two dollars as you feel weird about just standing there, take a mint, and leave as you pop it into your mouth. Minty. [[Back to the Bar.]]

You get through the crowd again, your shirt starting to get damp with other people's sweat. A woman with a full fucking ass starts grinding on your leg as you walk by, but that'll have to wait - you need booze. Booze is life. Making your way to the bar, you stand on the opposite side you were at before. You lean casually on the marble - no need to be pushy this time. Before long, a cute redheaded bartender is standing in front of you, and looks at you expectantly. You point to your wrist and lean forward, taking out two dollars from your wallet as a tip and sliding it over (after you've got her attention. You're learning). She nods, taking it and putting it in her bra with a tight-lipped smile, and pulls a glass from under the counter. The bass is particularly strong at the moment, so instead of asking what you want, she points to the different cheat bottles labeled on the bar back, and you have to lean over to read them. She looks up, and leans forward too, showing a hell of a lot of cleavage. Watching your eyes drift downward, her smile widens, and she runs her hand along the back of your palm resting on the counter. Popping her lips, she mouths "which one", and you point at random, heart rate increasing rapidly. She takes the cheat bottle from the bar back and pours you a glass of whatever it is - a dark mix. She then takes another bottle out, pouring a greenish substance into double shot glasses, and topping it off with a dash from an orange and red bottle. She slides one to you alongside your drink, and motions for you to take it. [[Take the shot->Take the shot_2]] [[Ask what it is->Ask what it is_2]]

You lean closer to her, picking up the double. She leans in, and her hair swings forward, brushing against your cheek. You give her a puzzled look, but pick up the drink and lift it up to chest height. She leans back, smiling, her sky-blue eyes crinkled in laughter. She puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head, jiggling her good-sized breasts, and you can't help but look at them again. She brings the shot up, right to her tits, expectantly, and you don't really have a choice at this point. That shot is getting taken. She leans forward, glass pressed against her cleavage, and you hesitantly bump yours against hers. With a laugh, she downs the double in one gulp, and feeling like you have to remain on equal footing, you do the same. It's a pretty good shot, you have to say. Tastes a good amount like orange and cranberry juice, with a lot of types of alcohol in it. You lick your lips where a little leftover remains, and shoot your new drinking buddy a hopefully charming smile. Leaning back over the bar, you ask, "So now that I've taken it, what is it?" She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "It's called Death by Sex. Find me after we close and you might get to experience it." She kisses your earlobe, pulling it a little as she slowly moves away. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, the red catching the strobing lights of the bar, she looks back and winks as she heads to another order on the opposite side. Your mouth is open wide, and you're suddenly adjusting your pants, staring at her ass, straining against her small black skirt as she walks away. Goddamn. You look over to where Ozzy was a minute ago, and he's still there. Staring at you. Mouth also open. "Goddamn," he says, with an exuberant head nod. "Right? RIGHT?" you say, thrilled as all hell. "This is going to be a great fucking night," you say as you turn and lean your back against the bar, ecstatic despite your rocky start at the bar. The rest of your crew sidles up, drinks in hand, at least three each. "WHOOOOOoooooo!" Nick yells into the noise, almost drowned out by the bass, but loud enough to turn a couple heads. "Right. Let's get fucked up," Will says, smiling, as he begins to down his first - a whiskey and coke, you'd assume. You turn back to the bar to grab your mixed drink, and take a sip. Not bad. It's a rum and coke, but with a bit of lime. A Cuba Libre. You turn back to your bros, [[Drink in hand.]]

You lean closer to her, picking up the double. She leans in, and her hair swings forward, brushing against your cheek. "What is this?" you ask. She leans back, smiling, her sky-blue eyes crinkled in laughter. She puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head, jiggling her good-sized breasts, and you can't help but look at them again. She brings the shot up, expectantly, and you don't really have a choice at this point. You raise your glass, and bump it against hers. She downs the double in one gulp, and feeling like you have to remain on equal footing, you do the same. It's a pretty good shot, you have to say. Tastes a good amount like orange and cranberry juice, with a lot of types of alcohol in it. You lick your lips where a little leftover remains, and shoot your new drinking buddy a puzzled look. Leaning back over the bar, you ask, "So now that I've taken it, what is it?" She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "It's called Death by Sex. Find me after we close and you might get to experience it." She kisses your earlobe, pulling it a little as she slowly moves away. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, the red catching the strobing lights of the bar, she looks back and winks as she heads to another order on the opposite side. Your mouth is open wide, and you're suddenly adjusting your pants, staring at her ass, straining against her small black skirt as she walks away. Goddamn. You look over to where Ozzy was a minute ago, and he's still there. Staring at you. Mouth also open. "Goddamn," he says, with an exuberant head nod. "Right? RIGHT?" you say, thrilled as all hell. "This is going to be a great fucking night," you say as you turn and lean your back against the bar, ecstatic despite your rocky start at the bar. The rest of your crew sidles up, drinks in hand, at least three each. "WHOOOOOoooooo!" Nick yells into the noise, almost drowned out by the bass, but loud enough to turn a couple heads. "Right. Let's get fucked up," Will says, smiling, as he begins to down his first - a whiskey and coke, you'd assume. You turn back to the bar to grab your mixed drink, and take a sip. Not bad. It's a rum and coke, but with a bit of lime. A Cuba Libre. You turn back to your bros, [[Drink in hand.]]

Will puts another cheer to the center of your circle. "L'chaim," he smirks. "You're not Jewish, last time I checked, Will," Nick half yells into the beat. "How did you check?" you retort, and Claire laughs, then chugs her drink. You all watch as the tiny, 110-pound girl downs a drink that made you gag. She looks up after finishing, not an expression on her face, the smiles, "What? Is there something on my face?" You all shake your heads rapidly with various forms of "Nah", impressed. Claire didn't drink when you dated, that was new, and exciting. You lean over her with the intention of catching up, and scoring some personality points in the process. Getting ear to lip and switching frequently, Claire and you catch up for a moment before the blur sets in. She's doing well, enjoying her freshman year of college. She got a job here as a server and is making bank from tips, you telling her you're not surprised, giving her an exaggerated once-over. She laughs, and puts a hand on your shoulder. As things start to get fuzzy, slamming drinks more and more frequently, you keep getting closer to Claire. Your friends continue to drink with you, but they start hitting on various different girls as well. On the seventh or eighth drink, Claire starts grinding on you. Her perfect ass swirls around your pants-covered dick, and Jesus Christ, is it hard. You put a hand on her back, still sipping another drink, and get into it. Not a lot of thoughts remain in your head, and freedom of choice is slowly fading into the black. [[Palm dat ass]]

You grab a palm full of the ass with the hand that used to be on her back, kneading the firm but still fun mound like a god-damn pizza dough. After a couple minutes of pretty intimate grinding, Claire turns slowly, sensuously running a hand up your inner thigh, until you're face to face, her breasts pressing against your pecs, yielding to the hard muscle you've spent a good amount of time forming. Her hand slides up to your hard-on, rubbing it through the pants, and she bites your lower lip, one hand pushing on your neck. You're fully into this at this point, so you lean forward, your hand still on her ass, and kiss her. [[Well. Well, well, well.]]

It's amazing. Like, better than it ever was before. You're locked in, tongues all over the place, her gently jacking you off through your pants, you moving your hand from her ass to her breast. Subtlety sure goes out the window the more you drink. You can smell the light peach fragrance of her shampoo, and the sweet perfume on her skin. She feels more alive and you feel more confident than ever. You don't worry about how bad your breakup was, or how horrible the aftermath. You don't even remember the details, lost in her taste, and the softness of her lips. You can't even remember what you did to her. She pulls back, your mix of saliva bridging between your lips before it falls away. She smiles, and runs her hand through her hair, the waves sparkling in the now-soft light of the club. "Hey, are you feeling like one more drink and then we could, maybe," she bites her lower lip and looks up at you with wide, bright eyes, "see where this goes?" She moves her leg between yours, and up the side of your erection, causing you to shudder. [[huaghyeah! Yeahs.->One more drink.]] [[Oh most defineatly. One morp.->One more drink.]] [[Ogh Jebus, sounds gorb to meep?->One more drink.]]

She smiles at the nonsensical drunk drivel that comes from your mouth, and turns, flipping her hair like an amber wave as she leads you by your hand, thumb pressed firmly into your palm, to the bar. You look around, and can't seem to see your friends. Pretty much everyone left in the club is hooking up or intimately dancing, and you fleetingly wonder where they got off too before Claire puts a hand on your cheek, bringing you back into the moment. She hands you a tall martini glass full of a jolly-rancher green liquid, then hooks her own arm holding the same drink with yours. Lifting up the glass, you peer inquisitively at it. "Thatz perty greem, Clar." She laughs, the melody somehow puncturing the undulating beat. Leaning close, she speaks directly into your ear, "It's an Appletini! We do them after drink specials to celebrate getting through the big night. And this is a big night for you!" She pulls back, her mouth slightly open, breathily saying, "Cheers." Your hooked arms form a heart as you raise the glasses to your lips. "To youp! To you!" You say. "No, $name! It's your night! To you! To your eighteenth birthday, she mockingly whispers, her other hand covering her mouth as she exaggeratedly looks around. "To being a man at last!" she finishes. With that, she uses the base of her glass to tip the lip of yours towards your mouth, and you down the 'tini. "Hmm. nop bad," you say, "very applly." And with that, your world becomes black. The last thing you'll remember from that night -that absolutely unexpected, crazy, fantastic night - was the perfect white of her teeth, a floating smile, and a melodic laugh. [[....]]

[[Jesus. What time is it?]]

You wake up, disoriented as all hell. You remember drinking. A lot. So many types of liquor. Your head hurts, and you palm your forehead. You look around to try and ease the confusion. Huh. You're in your bed. At home. Fully dressed in the clothes you were wearing last night. Your shoes are even still on, and still tied. You let out an exasperated groan. [[FUUUUUUuuuucckkk.->Damn.]] [[Goddamn it. Son of a Bitch!->Damn.]]

It would seem, from your clothes, you didn't end up fucking Claire last night. That's a major disappointment. She was always so uptight about that kind of thing when you dated, and seeing her yesterday like she was... it was something else. You would've loved to wake up to that ass sitting next to you in bed, her hair draped on your shoulder, your hand cupping her tit... And, like clockwork, you have a boner. You smell your armpits. Disgusting. Your hair is matted to your head from where you passed out on your pillow. Something smells worse than you, though, and you can't determine what it is. [[Look around]] [[Just move past it. Better not to know.]]

You look over the side of your bed as you swing your feet to the floor. Immediately, you spot a pile of what can only be puke on your floor. "Great," you say to no one. "At least I have some good memories. or whatever's left of them." You quickly move out of the room. Too quickly. You almost fall down, instead slamming your body into your wall to maintain balance. You don't think you've ever gotten this drunk before, and slowly, like you're navigating a space station, you feel your way to the bathroom. You sit on the toilet, running your hands through your hair as you try to get your bearings. What is going on with you? This feels so much stranger than the normal headaches you get from drinking. This feels like your insides are attacking you. [[Brush the taste of alcohol out of your mouth.]] [[Get the drunk shits out of the way.]]

You swing your feet to the floor. No sense in discovering what smells so awful now. You can pretty much assume what it is. You quickly move out of the room. Too quickly. You almost fall down, instead slamming your body into your wall to maintain balance. You don't think you've ever gotten this drunk before, and slowly, like you're navigating a space station, you feel your way to the bathroom. You sit on the toilet, running your hands through your hair as you try to get your bearings. What is going on with you? This feels so much stranger than the normal headaches you get from drinking. This feels like your insides are attacking you. [[Brush the taste of alcohol out of your mouth.]] [[Get the drunk shits out of the way.]]

You stand up. Rolling your tongue around in your mouth, you can still taste all of the booze from last night. Gin. Vodka. Rum. Jaeger. Something apple-y. You pick up your toothbrush, and rinse it off. Applying minty toothpaste liberally, you wet the brush, and start brushing. You look into the mirror, expecting your dead eyes to be looking back at you, angry at what you did to yourself. But hey. You don't look half bad. There's a little more glow to your skin. A little more shine in your eyes. You furrow your brow. Something's a little off about your face, though. Your eyelashes seem a little darker, your eyes a little larger. Your eyebrows a little thinner. You turn your head. Are your ears smaller? The fuck? Rolling the brush around in your mouth, you purse your lips around the stem. Are they...plump? You spit into the sink, then gargle a glass of water. After rinsing out your mouth, you take a second look in the mirror. Yep. You must've drank something you were allergic too, or maybe gotten in a fight, because you have a fat lip. It's light-toned, too - your whole face seems a little tanner, but your lips are definitely lighter. You sigh. Something is clearly wrong with you. You vow to avoid alcohol for a good amount of time after last night. You flash a smile to the mirror, and are dazzled by the bright white teeth in your mouth. Normally after a night like last night, you'd have McDonald’s fries stuck in the corners of your mouth, and yellowing spit, but not this time. This time you brushed your teeth, and your teeth have never looked whiter. [[You drop your pants and get ready for the drunk shits.]]

You undo your belt with some difficulty. Your pants are a lot tighter, the belt almost cutting into your waist. Jesus, you didn't think you drank enough to gain weight last night. Maybe you hit some fast food afterwards? Sitting on the toilet, you let all the toxic sludge inside of you flow out. Your stomach feels a lot better afterwards, and standing up, you feel better in general. So much lighter. You pull your pants back up, leaving the belt. They're a little difficult to get to go around your ass, and for the life of you, you can't figure out why. You look back over your shoulder - maybe it's a little swollen? Did you fall on your ass last night? You chuckle to yourself. It's likely. Whenever you blackout, you always wake up with cuts in the strangest places, and bruises all over. You put your hand over your stomach, now that it's feeling better. Odd. It seems thinner. Not as toned. You lift up your shirt, and you're definitely a little skinnier, a little pulled in at the sides. You squint a little. Maybe you're getting sick? Did you spend a lot of time outside in the cold last night? [[Your mouth still tastes like booze. To the toothbrush.]]

You undo your belt with some difficulty. Your pants are a lot tighter, the belt almost cutting into your waist. Jesus, you didn't think you drank enough to gain weight last night. Maybe you hit some fast food afterwards? Sitting on the toilet, you let all the toxic sludge inside of you flow out. Your stomach feels a lot better afterwards, and standing up, you feel better in general. So much lighter. You pull your pants back up, leaving the belt. They're a little difficult to get to go around your ass, and for the life of you, you can't figure out why. You look back over your shoulder - maybe it's a little swollen? Did you fall on your ass last night? You chuckle to yourself. It's likely. Whenever you blackout, you always wake up with cuts in the strangest places, and bruises all over. You put your hand over your stomach, now that it's feeling better. Odd. It seems thinner. Not as toned. You lift up your shirt, and you're definitely a little skinnier, a little pulled in at the sides. You squint a little. Maybe you're getting sick? Did you spend a lot of time outside in the cold last night? [[Fuck it. Take a warm shower. You still smell like teenage boy.]]

You smell awful. You're not even lifting up your arms, and you can smell your BO. Not only that, but your face feels greasy as a hamburger. Your boxers are so crumpled and sweaty they feel like a thong. You've gotta get under that water. You set the knob to as hot as it'll go, stripping off your clothes while the water warms up. Off goes the stained and deodorant-pitted button up. You throw your pants, and your malformed boxers, into the corner. Your socks almost crunch as you ditch them. As steam begins to roll out from behind the curtain, you step, naked, into the shower. A quick appraisement of your body confirms the already weird irregularities you've noticed, alongside various bruises you assume you picked up last night. You start with body wash, but unfortunately, the bottle of //Dove for Men// you normally use is completely empty. "Damnit. Fuck you Jake!" you curse into the shower stream. You pick up your older sister's soap - some shit from Whole Foods with lots of fruit and stuff. ''Justine'' is away at college in New York, so you doubt she'll mind if you borrow some. You soap up, the purple suds all over your body by the time you're done, from your toes to your face. It smells nice. Like lavender in the summer. It's not a normal thought for you, but you chalk it up to possibly still being drunk. After getting the stink off your body, you relax in the shower, taking your time. You scrub your legs, which seem more toned than usual. Minute differences in your physical makeup aren't really setting off warning bells, but they are making you feel a little stressed. You rinse off your pelvic region, splashing water on your swollen butt, which seems a little more inflated now. You frown, but turn your genitals towards the stream. Rinsing off your dick, you notice that your pubes are much thinner, and your penis is a little small. "Dehydration. This always happens after I drink," you mutter to yourself. "At least Claire didn't see it like this." You move to your chest. Warm water hits it, steam rising, and it feels so nice. You sigh as you lean back. It feels very nice. Too nice? You notice that your slightly shrunken penis is beginning to stand to attention. "Huh." Your nipples stiffen. You don't know what to do with this information. This is very strange stuff. You just decide to move on. [[Find the Shampoo.]]

You stand up. Rolling your tongue around in your mouth, you can still taste all of the booze from last night. Gin. Vodka. Rum. Jaeger. Something apple-y. You pick up your toothbrush, and rinse it off. Applying minty toothpaste liberally, you wet the brush, and start brushing. You look into the mirror, expecting your dead eyes to be looking back at you, angry at what you did to yourself. But hey. You don't look half bad. There's a little more glow to your skin. A little more shine in your eyes. You furrow your brow. Something's a little off about your face, though. Your eyelashes seem a little darker, your eyes a little larger. Your eyebrows a little thinner. You turn your head. Are your ears smaller? The fuck? Rolling the brush around in your mouth, you purse your lips around the stem. Are they...plump? You spit into the sink, then gargle a glass of water. After rinsing out your mouth, you take a second look in the mirror. Yep. You must've drank something you were allergic too, or maybe gotten in a fight, because you have a fat lip. It's light-toned, too - your whole face seems a little tanner, but your lips are definitely lighter. You sigh. Something is clearly wrong with you. You vow to avoid alcohol for a good amount of time after last night. You flash a smile to the mirror, and are dazzled by the bright white teeth in your mouth. Normally after a night like last night, you'd have McDonald’s fries stuck in the corners of your mouth, and yellowing spit, but not this time. This time you brushed your teeth, and your teeth have never looked whiter. [[Fuck it. Take a warm shower. You still smell like teenage boy.]]

You look around for the shampoo, the next step in your routine. Face and hair. You grab the bottle of Garnier from the rack, your sister's again. You've always been pretty sure women have nicer shampoo, so you pour a dollop of the stuff you've used every day since she left into your hands and start working it through your hair. It's thick stuff, and you massage it all the way into your roots, smelling the mango advertised on the bottle. You start to rinse it out, running your hands over your hair, when you notice something. Is it getting thicker? You put a hand through it. Sure feels thicker. You put your left hand up for a feel too, and a thick slash of brown hair falls in front of your eyes. What the fuck? You brush the invading bangs out of your face behind your ear, and grab a fistful of hair, pulling it towards your eyes. It seems to give, and you pull until it's at eye level. Your eyes widen. You give it another pull, and manage to take it all the way down to your chin. "Oh Jesus Fuck," you say, letting go. It only keeps going, and you watch as cascades of mahogany tresses thicken and fall down the sides of your face, running through your upturned palms until you feel wet hair tickling your ass and dangling below your belly button. You quickly turn the knob all the way to zero, and the stream lessens until it fades into a single drip. "Oh my god. Oh my god," you murmur as you begin to panic a little. You can't stop touching the new locks of hair curling around your arms, and draped over your chest. There's so much of it, and it's so full. Damp in the places where the water hit it as it grew, mainly on your back, you pull some from the sides into view. Sure enough, it's gorgeous brunette hair, long and full, thick as hell, and wavy like the crests of a small river where it's not wet. "Look at that color," you mutter, perplexed by why you would notice the absolutely stunning shade of brown your hair has become. But it only captures your attention for a moment. [[There's an itching on your chest.]]

As you look in shock at your new mane, you feel a peculiar itching around your nipples. Sliding the curtains of hair resting on your chest aside, you watch as your nipples, already hard from the warm water before, puff up, rivulets of water beginning to curve as the flesh underneath them swells. "What. In the actual fuck," you say, your voice cracking slightly, to which you cover your mouth with a hand. Ah, no. You feel your lips swelling under your palm, and pull it aside while stepping out of the shower. The itching and swelling continues slowly as you use one of your hand towels to wipe the steam off the large mirror. Looking at your face, sweeping your tresses to the sides, you see that your lips are indeed getting even bigger. They start to purse outward as you turn your head, becoming a pink pout. "I can't believe this is happening," You say in a dusky, breathy voice that hits a much higher pitch than before. "Ah! Is that my voice?" you say, watching the large lips in the mirror form the words. A pulse in your chest draws your eyes back down, as you feel your stomach cave in. You scream, but little comes out as your waist contracts, the air literally forced out of your lungs as they change alongside your proportions. Your nipples grow as you watch, becoming gumdrop sized and puffy, the areolas expanding into darker, larger discs. You put your hands on your chest as it heaves for breath, and you feel the swelling increase rapidly. As what you can only describe as breasts begin filling your hands, you try to cry out again for help, but your body is still changing, and the cry gets swallowed by the crunch of your shoulders as they cave inward, and your mouth snaps shut as your jawline begins to collapse to a smaller, angular structure. You look in the mirror as you struggle to breathe through your nose, which is likewise shrinking, becoming a dainty, cute thing between your narrowing but expanding eyes. You watch as your face changes, the ever-growing tits on your chest filling your cupped hands, overflowing with breast. Your eyelashes grow thicker and longer, giving your eyes a feminine beauty. As they become more defined, your big, brown iris's take on a gleam, the whites of your eyes losing their bloodshot nature and purifying for a striking look, even as they remain wide with confusion and dismay. You feel your chest stop growing, and your waist stop contracting, and pull yourself up from where you collapsed bent over the sink, taking as many breaths as your new lips and throat allow. [[Examine the damage.]]

You take a look at the damage. Your face, you quickly evaluate, has become that of a beautiful woman. You have perfectly maintained eyebrows with beautiful, sultry eyes beneath them, the lashes thick enough to eschew mascara, and combined with the clean white and soft brown of your eyes, creating a striking contrast that you can't seem to look away from, until you have to keep going. Your nose is adorable, to say the least. It's cute, it's small and thin. You just want to pinch the high-cheekbones surrounding it, but as you continue your survey, you stop on your lips again. You've seen these before, but it's very obvious now - those are some hot lips. Full, luscious, and pursed in a light-pink pout, you don't want to open your mouth because that'll make it yours, and not the mirror's. You continue down your neck, now much thinner, and free of its previously jutting Adam's apple, to your chest. With dainty but toned shoulders, your large, spherical breasts sit high and perkily on what used to be your pecs. You estimate from groping them that they're at least D cups, and nice ones too. As you pinch your newly engorged nipples, your penis, flaccid from the pain of your waist contracting, goes fully erect, and you lose the ability to think for a moment. Those are some sensitive nipples, you think when the pleasure fades. Below those, your waist tapers into a very thin core, with a tight, flat stomach flaring into your slightly swollen hips. You put your hands on the sides of your stomach, the masculine fingers mismatching the smooth contours of your feminine torso, and gasp. You feel a sudden pain in your balls. [[This can't be good.]]

The pain spreads, like the dull sensation of being sack-tapped, but stronger, making its way up your shaft until the whole of your genital area is feeling the ache. "No, no no no no no," you start to repeat, moving your hands down in a feeble attempt to shield your dick from what's going down. It's no use, however, and you find yourself clutching at a shrinking stick, desperately trying to pull it back out as your balls start to tuck inside a crevasse forming in your body, and your penis begins to disappear. You cry out with pitiful yelps, but they soon turn to charged moans as the ache turns to pleasure, and instead of pulling your penis out you find your hand, with its fingers shrinking, becoming more delicate, the nails extending to a centimeter, stroking the shaft as it settles into the top of a cleft where your balls used to be, until, with a wet pop, it shrinks inside, hiding under a hood. You can't stop touching it - you don't want to stop touching it, and with your feminine hands you find it and rub it, the pleasure radiating through your body. As your masturbating on your new clit continues, you look down, face contorted in pleasure, as you crumple to the ground, knees weak. You land on a soft cushion, but looking under you, see nothing. As your right continues rubbing circles on your clit, your left reaches down to grab your ass - and finds a hell of a lot more than it remembered. You shift to a kneeling position, lying on your large breasts and sticking your ass in the air so you can see it. "Guh," you moan as your wandering fingers begin plunging into the depths of your new gap, thumb still focused on the bump. It's one hell of an ass by any standard, thick and heart-shaped. You give it a smack with your left, and it jiggles, sending a euphoric giggle through your brain as you manage to fit another finger inside you, bringing it up to two. You feel your knees, on the soft bath mat, shifting, and watch as your legs begin to shrink, large muscle from long bike rides and leg days consolidating into thick, feminine thighs, and smooth, silky calves. All the hair that used to dust your legs, your arms, your chest and your balls begins to fade away, some of it disappearing into your skin, and some simply falling out. You're left with smooth skin that darkens to a medium tan, and you run lefty over your face, feeling the softness of your cheeks. You take a look at the arm plunging your hand into your body, and notice how it's lost almost all of its bulk, now a shadow of its former self - bicep traded in for long, lean muscle that doesn't bulge or deform, triceps traded for a perfect proportion to your shoulders and chest. You stuff a third finger up your tunnel, fitting three in as your ring finger gets inside. You begin to gasp, your mind already clear of thought, grunting cute little "Guh"s and "nuh"'s into the open air, your eyes rolling up towards the sky. Cresting like a massive wave, you orgasm, newly smooth legs twitching underneath you as you eject your hand and ride out the mental stimulation. "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you scream, slapping your cum-covered hand over your mouth with a wet smack, tongue splaying against the sweet juice. After the wave falls, you flop over, lying on your back. Your hair covers parts of your face, and you can taste your own lady cum on your fat lips. "Oooooh. Fuck me," you say, wiping a thin sheen of sweat off your forehead, smiling in the afterglow of something incredible as your eyes stay shut tight. "I just might have to," a voice calls from above you. Your eyes snap open. You're looking up at a figure standing right on top of you. It's a woman. With auburn hair. A tight ass. A white thong under a black dress. It's Claire. "Well. You turned out perfectly," she says as you, bewildered, stammer her name and a couple of "what"s, brain still fairly fried from the transformation and powerful orgasm. She bends down, sitting on your flat stomach, one hand cupping your tit and the other stroking your cheek, brushing your hair out of your face. "So. Are you enjoying your birthday?" she smirks. You shut your eyes. You open them. [["What the fuck is going on?"]] <<set $look to 1>> <<set $n to 0>> <<set $selfcount to 1>>

Claire tosses her head, laughing, the same laugh as the night before tickling your ears with its out-of-context pleasantness, her hair falling over her left shoulder and draping onto you chest. “I feel like I should be asking that, $name,” she says, smiling, fondling your breast, brushing your nipple with her thumb as she moves her other hand from your face to your other giant breast. You can’t help but bite your lip and squirm from the feelings her fingers are giving you. You worry about how intense this stuff is, confused, panicked, and overwhelmed, as you feel your sodden vagina pulse. “It looked like you were having a pretty good time when you changed.” You think of what you’d just done. You fingered yourself to orgasm. You shoved digit after digit into what used to be your manhood, scraping your new breasts against the floor as you lost yourself in something you don’t understand. You begin to cry in earnest, tears rolling down the sides of your face into your hair. You sob. Did she do this to you? Why? You want to ask, but you can’t get the words out, the euphoric feelings present earlier fading into a despair, and you choke on your questions. “Aww. It’s ok,” she soothes, a facetious frown forming on her perfect lips. “You’re gonna be ok, you hear me?” She pulls and hand up, putting an inquisitive finger on her chin. “Or maybe not. Probably not.” You’re just crying, helpless on the floor. You’re afraid if you move, if your skin touches anything you’ll lose control again. You don’t know how to deal with any of this. “I thought you would have asked me why, or what, or how by now.” “But I guess that this was a lot more traumatic for you than I thought.” She takes her hands off of your tits, and crosses her arms over her own. “I need you to focus. I want you to ask.” You try to stop crying. Without her thumb circling your areola, you regain a little bit of control. You pull your manicured hands up to your face, and wipe the tears from your soft cheeks. Arousal fades as the overwhelmed, confused panic you’re in takes precedent. You take a minute to gather your thoughts. You take a deep breath, watching your chest swell and depress, the experience alien to you. [[Claire, did you do this to me?]] [[Why is this happening?]] [[Try to push her off you.]]

She smiles, a soft, sad smile. “Of course I did. You know I did. I mean, not alone. But yes” She reaches down and pets your face, wiping your own cum off of your lower lip. “I needed to make you realize what you did to me. To make you value what I’m going to say to you – what I’m going to teach you.” You open your mouth, hesitant. “How?” you whisper, demure, scared. She sighs. Taking her hands from your face, she runs them through her hair. You can’t help but be a little jealous of the color, and you’re not sure where those feelings are coming from. “Does it really matter how, $name? We’re here now, past the trap, and look at you,” she smiles again, more of a proud grin. “You’re magnificent.” She adjusts her hips, grinding into your pelvis, and brushing your lower lips. “Hngggh” You put a hand over your pursed lips, embarrassed by the sound. It’s as if every bit of masculinity died in you, every noise you make charged with feminine sexuality. “You’re a work of art,” she says quietly, winding her hand through your hair splayed on the ground, looking you over like an artist with their first draft of a painting. “My work of art.” Sitting up straight, she shrugs. “It could’ve been magic. A spell, maybe, or a curse. For all you know, it was nanobots,” she smiles as if that were ridiculous, “or even a potion. Maybe I irradiated you. Drugged you. Maybe I made a deal with the devil,” she leans in close, breath hot and steamy on your ear. “Or maybe I’m a witch.” She laughs. “Or maybe, instead of how, you should focus on your current,” she softly slaps a tit, the foreign sphere jiggling like jello. “…Predicament.” “What isn’t an important question.” “Ask the real one.” [[Why, Claire. Why are you doing this to me?]] [[Fight back - Push her off of you.]]

“Why,” she repeats. “I love that you don’t already know,” she smirks. “Thanks for playing along and asking, though.” She puts her hands back on your chest, and you grab her wrists to try and pull them away – but she’s stronger than you, and kneads them aggressively. You gasp, and arch your back, lifting her up a small bit. “I’ve got something I’d like to finally get off my chest.” She says as she pulls away again. “We never got to do this after you broke up with me. “ She frowns. A real frown. “Which I always thought was odd afterwards. You being the one to break up with me. I guess that was my bad, really.” You stutter, “But I thought we broke up cleanly. We just went our separate ways.” She grabs your chin, and forces your face up to stare into hers. Her green eyes are watering at the base, emotion coursing through them. “Cleanly? You destroyed my life. And you didn’t even realize it.” With your cheeks pinched by her hands, you murmur, “I didn’t know it affected you like that – please, you have to believe me! I’m sorry!” “It wasn’t the breakup. If you hadn’t broken up with me, I would’ve dropped you in a week. I was just…I was just a little overwhelmed.” She lets go of your head, dropping it back onto your soft cushion of hair, and reaches back, plunging a finger into your vagina. Your mind goes blank. “Kind of like you are now,” she smiles a sad smile as you come back to the conversation. “Do you remember what happened? When you threw my deepest secret into the wind for everyone to see?” You do. How could you not? A month before you broke up, if you recall correctly, you may have dropped some information to your boys about a certain proclivity Claire had. You aren’t really proud of it. I mean, you didn’t mean to start a bunch of shit for her – you didn’t know it would be a big deal. Do you speak up? It may be your last chance to ask how, though. [[Wait-How did you even do this?]] [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]]

You open your mouth as if you’re going to speak, a second of hesitation in your arms, then you thrust up with your hips, and grab her left side to push her off of you. As your hands hit her arm and her waist, she grabs your right wrist – wrapped around her bicep – and twists. Desperately trying to buck her off, curling up at the stomach, your hair flying as you essentially hump her, she throws a hand to your face, and pushes down. She’s so strong, and you’re so weak. You can’t push her to the left. You can’t pull her to the right. She flattens you back out, pushing your face down to the ground, and then grabs your other wrist. Pulling the right from her arm, and the left from her side, she leans over, pulling them over your head, until you’re helpless, still thrusting, trying to use your hips to sway her, but only getting crushed down as she shifts her ass lower to prevent you from lifting up. You’re straddled, and held down. You, as a last resort, open your mouth to scream on instinct. But she’s not gonna let that happen, and she flattens herself to you, still holding your hands above your head, her breasts pressing into yours, and shoves her tongue into your open mouth, smothering your scream. Grinding her chest against yours, you lose focus, and feel yourself yielding to the invasion of her tongue, your own starting to wrap around it. As you feel your resolve fading, she lets go of your hands, and with your last bit of effort you raise them to grab her hair – but she’s too quick. You spasm. A pressure is back on your clit, and you see her arm bent behind her and in between your legs. The pressure starts going in circles, and you open your mouth wide, her tongue running across your lips as you start to buck your hips again, for an entirely different reason. Her hair is resting on your shoulders and face, and the smell of her perfume ramps up your arousal. You hear the moans coming from your mouth again, as the circle speeds up, her hips gyrating on yours, the contact of your nipples on her breasts pushing you to the edge. Your hands are on her hips. You don’t know how they got there. Back arched, you push your pelvis into her hand. A finger slips into you, your needy lips clenching around it. Deeper, you think, not able to focus on your fear or your complete and utter perplexing situation. “MMMmmm. Guuuuhhh. Ooooh.” You feel it in you. Cresting. The wave of pleasure building. Your vagina tightens around her finger further, and you feel it seeping liquid down your taint. You’re about to cum. And then it stops. There’s no finger in you. There’s nothing on your clit. Or your breasts. You open your eyes which had shut tightly in preparation for the orgasm you thought was coming. And she’s back on your chest. Arms crossed. Anger in her mesmerizing, green eyes. “Don’t do that again. Now ask me why, or orgasm denial will be the least of your worries.” You pant, chest heaving, pent up, unable to cum, the feeling a thousand times worse than any blue balls you’ve had before. You moan, but in anguish, not in ecstasy. It’s awful. You reach down to your clit with trembling hands, your lower lip stammering. But she has your hands again, and you’re pinned once more. You give in. [[Why? Why are you doing this to me?]] <<set $need to $need + 2>> <<set $sub to $sub - 1>> <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

"Only your friends?" You can see the rage boil up inside her. She starts to breathe heavier, remembering the events. But then her eyes close. She takes a long, heavy breath, and reopens her eyes with a calm focus. "$name. You can't justify this. You know I know what happened. You're just trying to lie to yourself, at this point. Maybe, maybe you only told your friends. But they told their friends and soon, all of Green knew that I was bi." There it was. Her "big secret". That she was bi. She told you one time, you both laughing while you watched Modern Family together, fooling around under a blanket. It was a nice night. You got to talking about Sofia Vergara - how absolutely impossibly beautiful she is – and you started talking about how if you could ever manage to attract a woman like that, you’d have no idea what to do with her. Claire did. And she told you. You were both a little buzzed, and Claire’s admission of her attraction to woman – detailed by some pretty dirty talk about the Latin goddess – turned you on incredibly, and you fucked on your basement’s couch. Afterwards, Claire told you everything about when she realized she was bi, and how life “in the closet” was. You listened, nodding along. You thought it was hot. You were glad she had chosen you, and not some big-titted hottie. You were especially happy she trusted you with that part of her life. But you told your friends. Almost instantly. You were dating a bi chick – there were implications of that, according to porn. Which you have always watched more than your fair share of. You were high-fived so many times the next night as you all played flip and slap cup that your hand hurt the next morning. There was talk of three-ways and who’d be in it and all sorts of things along the same vein. You didn’t think it was a big deal. Not then. A couple of days later, it seemed like everyone knew. It was big news for your small school, in a conservative county. You and your friends were liberal as hell – Warren Boys – but very few others were. At the time, however, you were studying for the ACT’s and finishing up your varsity soccer season, and didn’t pay a lot of attention to the whole gossip scene. Claire was so mad that she didn’t talk to you for a week, but then you got close again, her practically spending all her time with you. “I thought you had gotten over that! We hung out more than ever afterwards. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I swear to god, Claire,” you say – and you mean it. “We hung out more because I had no one left, you complete asshole,” she said. “I was alone.” You furrow your brow – what? This is the first you’re hearing of this. Maybe you weren’t very present at that time. Hopefully she doesn’t go into that either. “My family disowned me. I didn’t tell you that, did I – you didn’t seem to care. You had “other things” on your mind,” she air quotes. Looks like she did remember that part. You gulp. “I stayed with my aunt the rest of high school – the only not ultra-religious relative I have. I’m even paying my own way through college right now, which is why I have to work at that shitty fucking bar getting hit on by assholes like you.” She’s breathing pretty heavily, and there are tears in the corners of her eyes. You’re obviously still terrified, bewildered, and overwhelmed with feeling and ignorance, but you don’t like seeing her sad, still. Especially since you realize this might be on you. “My best friend – Aida – stopped talking to me. They all did. They thought I was into them.” “Everyone – everyone – thought I was a slut. Thought I just wanted to fuck whatever I could,” she throws her arms up in the air. “I didn’t want to be out, $name.” “I didn’t want to be out.” She softly repeats. [[You are so. Incredibly. Overwhelmed.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

"Then you remember what happened afterwards. After you told all your little friends." You can see the rage boil up inside her. She starts to breathe heavier, remembering the events. But then her eyes close. She takes a long, heavy breath, and reopens her eyes with a calm focus. "$name. You probably think you're innocent. That it was no big deal. You're just trying to lie to yourself, at this point. Maybe, maybe you only told your friends. But they told their friends and soon, all of Green knew that I was bi." There it was. Her "big secret". That she was bi. She told you one time, you both laughing while you watched Modern Family together, fooling around under a blanket. It was a nice night. You got to talking about Sofia Vergara - how absolutely impossibly beautiful she is – and you started talking about how if you could ever manage to attract a woman like that, you’d have no idea what to do with her. Claire did. And she told you. You were both a little buzzed, and Claire’s admission of her attraction to woman – detailed by some pretty dirty talk about the Latin goddess – turned you on incredibly, and you fucked on your basement’s couch. Afterwards, Claire told you everything about when she realized she was bi, and how life “in the closet” was. You listened, nodding along. You thought it was hot. You were glad she had chosen you, and not some big-titted hottie. You were especially happy she trusted you with that part of her life. But you told your friends. Almost instantly. You were dating a bi chick – there were implications of that, according to porn. Which you have always watched more than your fair share of. You were high-fived so many times the next night as you all played flip and slap cup that your hand hurt the next morning. There was talk of three-ways and who’d be in it and all sorts of things along the same vein. You didn’t think it was a big deal. Not then. A couple of days later, it seemed like everyone knew. It was big news for your small school, in a conservative county. You and your friends were liberal as hell – Warren Boys – but very few others were. At the time, however, you were studying for the ACT’s and finishing up your varsity soccer season, and didn’t pay a lot of attention to the whole gossip scene. Claire was so mad that she didn’t talk to you for a week, but then you got close again, her practically spending all her time with you. “I thought you had gotten over that! We hung out more than ever afterwards. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I swear to god, Claire,” you say – and you mean it. “We hung out more because I had no one left, you complete asshole,” she said. “I was alone.” You furrow your brow – what? This is the first you’re hearing of this. Maybe you weren’t very present at that time. Hopefully she doesn’t go into that either. “My family disowned me. I didn’t tell you that, did I – you didn’t seem to care. You had “other things” on your mind,” she air quotes. Looks like she did remember that part. You gulp. “I stayed with my aunt the rest of high school – the only not ultra-religious relative I have. I’m even paying my own way through college right now, which is why I have to work at that shitty fucking bar getting hit on by assholes like you.” She’s breathing pretty heavily, and there are tears in the corners of her eyes. You’re obviously still terrified, bewildered, and overwhelmed with feeling and ignorance, but you don’t like seeing her sad, still. Especially since you realize this might be on you. “My best friend – Aida – stopped talking to me. They all did. They thought I was into them.” “Everyone – everyone – thought I was a slut. Thought I just wanted to fuck whatever I could,” she throws her arms up in the air. “I didn’t want to be out, $name.” “I didn’t want to be out.” She softly repeats. [[You are so. Incredibly. Overwhelmed.]]

You don't even open your mouth. This is dangerous fucking territory. Look at where you're already at - you're not about to make it worse. "Not going to answer? Then I'll answer for you. From the only time we ever," she says, pointing straight at your face, "fought about this. Before I gave up fighting." "Oh, Claire, I only told my friends! I didn't know they would tell other people!" You look away nervously. That's word for word what you said days after you told your crew. Her sarcastic tone is a little off, but the script is on point. "Only your friends?" You can see the rage boil up inside her. She starts to breathe heavier, remembering the events. But then her eyes close. She takes a long, heavy breath, and reopens her eyes with a calm focus. "$name. You can't justify this. You know I know what happened. You're just trying to lie to yourself, at this point. I know you still haven't taken responsiblity, haven't cared. Maybe, maybe you only told your friends. But they told their friends and soon, all of Green knew that I was bi." There it was. Her "big secret". That she was bi. She told you one time, you both laughing while you watched Modern Family together, fooling around under a blanket. It was a nice night. You got to talking about Sofia Vergara - how absolutely impossibly beautiful she is – and you started talking about how if you could ever manage to attract a woman like that, you’d have no idea what to do with her. Claire did. And she told you. You were both a little buzzed, and Claire’s admission of her attraction to woman – detailed by some pretty dirty talk about the Latin goddess – turned you on incredibly, and you fucked on your basement’s couch. Afterwards, Claire told you everything about when she realized she was bi, and how life “in the closet” was. You listened, nodding along. You thought it was hot. You were glad she had chosen you, and not some big-titted hottie. You were especially happy she trusted you with that part of her life. But you told your friends. Almost instantly. You were dating a bi chick – there were implications of that, according to porn. Which you have always watched more than your fair share of. You were high-fived so many times the next night as you all played flip and slap cup that your hand hurt the next morning. There was talk of three-ways and who’d be in it and all sorts of things along the same vein. You didn’t think it was a big deal. Not then. A couple of days later, it seemed like everyone knew. It was big news for your small school, in a conservative county. You and your friends were liberal as hell – Warren Boys – but very few others were. At the time, however, you were studying for the ACT’s and finishing up your varsity soccer season, and didn’t pay a lot of attention to the whole gossip scene. Claire was so mad that she didn’t talk to you for a week, but then you got close again, her practically spending all her time with you. “I thought you had gotten over that! We hung out more than ever afterwards. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I swear to god, Claire,” you say – and you mean it. “We hung out more because I had no one left, you complete asshole,” she said. “I was alone.” You furrow your brow – what? This is the first you’re hearing of this. Maybe you weren’t very present at that time. Hopefully she doesn’t go into that either. “My family disowned me. I didn’t tell you that, did I – you didn’t seem to care. You had “other things” on your mind,” she air quotes. Looks like she did remember that part. You gulp. “I stayed with my aunt the rest of high school – the only not ultra-religious relative I have. I’m even paying my own way through college right now, which is why I have to work at that shitty fucking bar getting hit on by assholes like you.” She’s breathing pretty heavily, and there are tears in the corners of her eyes. You’re obviously still terrified, bewildered, and overwhelmed with feeling and ignorance, but you don’t like seeing her sad, still. Especially since you realize this might be on you. “My best friend – Aida – stopped talking to me. They all did. They thought I was into them.” “Everyone – everyone – thought I was a slut. Thought I just wanted to fuck whatever I could,” she throws her arms up in the air. “I didn’t want to be out, $name.” “I didn’t want to be out.” She softly repeats. [[You are so. Incredibly. Overwhelmed.]]

“Why,” she repeats. Her eyes soften from the anger that filled them a moment ago. “I love that you don’t already know,” she smirks. “Thanks for finally playing along and asking, though.” “I’ve got something I’d like to finally get off my chest.” She says as she pulls away again. “We never got to do this after you broke up with me. “ She frowns. A real frown. “Which I always thought was odd afterwards. You being the one to break up with me. I guess that was my bad, really.” You stutter, her spit and yours dribbling down the corner of your mouth, “But I thought we broke up cleanly. We just went our separate ways.” She grabs your chin, and forces your face up to stare into hers. Her green eyes are watering at the base, emotion coursing through them. “Cleanly? You destroyed my life. And you didn’t even realize it.” With your cheeks pinched by her hands, you murmur, “I didn’t know it affected you like that – please, you have to believe me! I’m sorry!” “It wasn’t the breakup. If you hadn’t broken up with me, I would’ve dropped you in a week. I was just…I was just a little overwhelmed.” She lets go of your head, dropping it back onto your soft cushion of hair, and reaches back, plunging a finger into your vagina. Not again. Your mind goes blank. “Kind of like you are now,” she smiles a sad smile as you come back to the conversation, her stopping as soon as she started. You lick your lips, ashamed and confused by why you want her to keep going, so badly it’s on the forefront of your mind. “Do you remember what happened? When you threw my deepest secret into the wind for everyone to see?” You do. How could you not? A month before you broke up, if you recall correctly, you may have dropped some information to your boys about a certain proclivity Claire had. You aren’t really proud of it. I mean, you didn’t mean to start a bunch of shit for her – you didn’t know it would be a big deal. Do you speak up? This might be your last chance to ask how, though. [[Wait - But how?]] [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]]

You open your mouth as if you’re going to speak, a second of hesitation in your arms, then you thrust up with your hips, and grab her left side to push her off of you. As your hands hit her arm and her waist, she grabs your right wrist – wrapped around her bicep – and twists. Desperately trying to buck her off, curling up at the stomach, your hair flying as you essentially hump her, she throws a hand to your face, and pushes down. She’s so strong, and you’re so weak. You can’t push her to the left. You can’t pull her to the right. She flattens you back out, pushing your face down to the ground, and then grabs your other wrist. Pulling the right from her arm, and the left from her side, she leans over, pulling them over your head, until you’re helpless, still thrusting, trying to use your hips to sway her, but only getting crushed down as she shifts her ass lower to prevent you from lifting up. You’re straddled, and held down. You, as a last resort, open your mouth to scream on instinct. But she’s not gonna let that happen, and she flattens herself to you, still holding your hands above your head, her breasts pressing into yours, and shoves her tongue into your open mouth, smothering your scream. Grinding her chest against yours, you lose focus, and feel yourself yielding to the invasion of her tongue, your own starting to wrap around it. As you feel your resolve fading, she lets go of your hands, and with your last bit of effort you raise them to grab her hair – but she’s too quick. You spasm. A pressure is back on your clit, and you see her arm bent behind her and in between your legs. The pressure starts going in circles, and you open your mouth wide, her tongue running across your lips as you start to buck your hips again, for an entirely different reason. Her hair is resting on your shoulders and face, and the smell of her perfume ramps up your arousal. You hear the moans coming from your mouth again, as the circle speeds up, her hips gyrating on yours, the contact of your nipples on her breasts pushing you to the edge. Your hands are on her hips. You don’t know how they got there. Back arched, you push your pelvis into her hand. A finger slips into you, your needy lips clenching around it. Deeper, you think, not able to focus on your fear or your complete and utter perplexing situation. “MMMmmm. Guuuuhhh. Ooooh.” You feel it in you. Cresting. The wave of pleasure building. Your vagina tightens around her finger further, and you feel it seeping liquid down your taint. You’re about to cum. And then it stops. There’s no finger in you. There’s nothing on your clit. Or your breasts. You open your eyes which had shut tightly in preparation for the orgasm you thought was coming. And she’s back on your chest. Arms crossed. Anger in her mesmerizing, green eyes. “Don’t do that again. Now ask me why, or orgasm denial will be the least of your worries.” You pant, chest heaving, pent up, unable to cum, the feeling a thousand times worse than any blue balls you’ve had before. You moan, but in anguish, not in ecstasy. It’s awful. You reach down to your clit with trembling hands, your lower lip stammering. But she has your hands again, and you’re pinned once more. You give in. [[Why? Why are you doing this to me?->why3]] <<set $need to $need + 2>> <<set $sub to $sub - 1>> <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

“Why,” she repeats. “I love that you don’t already know,” she smirks. “Thanks for playing along and asking, though.” She puts her hands back on your chest, and you grab her wrists to try and pull them away – but she’s stronger than you, and kneads them aggressively. You gasp, and arch your back, lifting her up a small bit. “I’ve got something I’d like to finally get off my chest.” She says as she pulls away again. “We never got to do this after you broke up with me. “ She frowns. A real frown. “Which I always thought was odd afterwards. You being the one to break up with me. I guess that was my bad, really.” You stutter, “But I thought we broke up cleanly. We just went our separate ways.” She grabs your chin, and forces your face up to stare into hers. Her green eyes are watering at the base, emotion coursing through them. “Cleanly? You destroyed my life. And you didn’t even realize it.” With your cheeks pinched by her hands, you murmur, “I didn’t know it affected you like that – please, you have to believe me! I’m sorry!” “It wasn’t the breakup. If you hadn’t broken up with me, I would’ve dropped you in a week. I was just…I was just a little overwhelmed.” She lets go of your head, dropping it back onto your soft cushion of hair, and reaches back, plunging a finger into your vagina. Your mind goes blank. “Kind of like you are now,” she smiles a sad smile as you come back to the conversation. “Do you remember what happened? When you threw my deepest secret into the wind for everyone to see?” You do. How could you not? A month before you broke up, if you recall correctly, you may have dropped some information to your boys about a certain proclivity Claire had. You aren’t really proud of it. I mean, you didn’t mean to start a bunch of shit for her – you didn’t know it would be a big deal. Do you speak up? [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]]

You open your mouth, hesitant. “How?” you whisper, demure, scared. She reaches down and pets your face, wiping your own cum off of your lower lip. A sigh escapes her. Taking her hands from your face, she runs them through her hair. You can’t help but be a little jealous of the color, and you’re not sure where those feelings are coming from. “Does it really matter how, $name? We’re here now, past the trap, and look at you,” she smiles again, more of a proud grin. “You’re magnificent.” She smiles, a soft, sad smile. “I did this to you. You know I did. I mean, not alone. But you'll get to that." She adjusts her hips, grinding into your pelvis, and brushing your lower lips. “Hngggh” You put a hand over your pursed lips, embarrassed by the sound. It’s as if every bit of masculinity died in you, every noise you make charged with feminine sexuality. “You’re a work of art,” she says quietly, winding her hand through your hair splayed on the ground, looking you over like an artist with their first draft of a painting. “My work of art.” Sitting up straight, she shrugs. “It could’ve been magic. A spell, maybe, or a curse. For all you know, it was nanobots,” she smiles as if that were ridiculous, “or even a potion. Maybe I irradiated you. Drugged you. Maybe I made a deal with the devil,” she leans in close, breath hot and steamy on your ear. “Or maybe I’m a witch.” She laughs. “Or maybe, instead of how, you should focus on your current,” she softly slaps a tit, the foreign sphere jiggling like jello. “…Predicament.” "But you didn't answer my question," she says, "Bad girl." You slicken up down below at that. Odd. "Do you remember what you did to me?" [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]] [[Fight back - Push her off of you.->Push2]]

You open your mouth as if you’re going to speak, a second of hesitation in your arms, then you thrust up with your hips, and grab her left side to push her off of you. As your hands hit her arm and her waist, she grabs your right wrist – wrapped around her bicep – and twists. Desperately trying to buck her off, curling up at the stomach, your hair flying as you essentially hump her, she throws a hand to your face, and pushes down. She’s so strong, and you’re so weak. You can’t push her to the left. You can’t pull her to the right. She flattens you back out, pushing your face down to the ground, and then grabs your other wrist. Pulling the right from her arm, and the left from her side, she leans over, pulling them over your head, until you’re helpless, still thrusting, trying to use your hips to sway her, but only getting crushed down as she shifts her ass lower to prevent you from lifting up. You’re straddled, and held down. You, as a last resort, open your mouth to scream on instinct. But she’s not gonna let that happen, and she flattens herself to you, still holding your hands above your head, her breasts pressing into yours, and shoves her tongue into your open mouth, smothering your scream. Grinding her chest against yours, you lose focus, and feel yourself yielding to the invasion of her tongue, your own starting to wrap around it. As you feel your resolve fading, she lets go of your hands, and with your last bit of effort you raise them to grab her hair – but she’s too quick. You spasm. A pressure is back on your clit, and you see her arm bent behind her and in between your legs. The pressure starts going in circles, and you open your mouth wide, her tongue running across your lips as you start to buck your hips again, for an entirely different reason. Her hair is resting on your shoulders and face, and the smell of her perfume ramps up your arousal. You hear the moans coming from your mouth again, as the circle speeds up, her hips gyrating on yours, the contact of your nipples on her breasts pushing you to the edge. Your hands are on her hips. You don’t know how they got there. Back arched, you push your pelvis into her hand. A finger slips into you, your needy lips clenching around it. Deeper, you think, not able to focus on your fear or your complete and utter perplexing situation. “MMMmmm. Guuuuhhh. Ooooh.” You feel it in you. Cresting. The wave of pleasure building. Your vagina tightens around her finger further, and you feel it seeping liquid down your taint. You’re about to cum. And then it stops. There’s no finger in you. There’s nothing on your clit. Or your breasts. You open your eyes which had shut tightly in preparation for the orgasm you thought was coming. And she’s back on your chest. Arms crossed. Anger in her mesmerizing, green eyes. “Don’t do that again. Now answer. My. Goddamn. Question, or orgasm denial will be the least of your worries.” You pant, chest heaving, pent up, unable to cum, the feeling a thousand times worse than any blue balls you’ve had before. You moan, but in anguish, not in ecstasy. It’s awful. You reach down to your clit with trembling hands, your lower lip stammering. But she has your hands again, and you’re pinned once more. You give in. [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]] <<set $need to $need + 2>> <<set $sub to $sub - 1>> <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

You open your mouth, hesitant. “How?” you whisper, demure, scared. A sigh escapes her. Taking her hands, she runs them down the sides of your face, then arches back and runs them through her hair. You can’t help but be a little jealous of the color, and you’re not sure where those feelings are coming from. “Does it really matter how, $name? We’re here now, past the trap, and look at you,” she smiles again, more of a proud grin. “You’re magnificent.” She smiles, a soft, sad smile. “I did this to you. You know I did. I mean, not alone. But you'll get to that." She adjusts her hips, grinding into your pelvis, and brushing your lower lips. “Hngggh” You put a hand over your pursed lips, embarrassed by the sound. It’s as if every bit of masculinity died in you, every noise you make charged with feminine sexuality. “You’re a work of art,” she says quietly, winding her hand through your hair splayed on the ground, looking you over like an artist with their first draft of a painting. “My work of art.” Sitting up straight, she shrugs. “It could’ve been magic. A spell, maybe, or a curse. For all you know, it was nanobots,” she smiles as if that were ridiculous, “or even a potion. Maybe I irradiated you. Drugged you. Maybe I made a deal with the devil,” she leans in close, breath hot and steamy on your ear. “Or maybe I’m a witch.” She laughs. “Or maybe, instead of how, you should focus on your current,” she softly slaps a tit, the foreign sphere jiggling like jello. “…Predicament.” "But you didn't answer my question," she says, "Bad girl." You slicken up down below at that. Odd. "Do you remember what you did to me?" [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]]

“Why,” she repeats. Her eyes soften from the anger that filled them a moment ago. “I love that you don’t already know,” she smirks. “Thanks for finally playing along and asking, though.” “I’ve got something I’d like to finally get off my chest.” She says as she pulls away again. “We never got to do this after you broke up with me. “ She frowns. A real frown. “Which I always thought was odd afterwards. You being the one to break up with me. I guess that was my bad, really.” You stutter, her spit and yours dribbling down the corner of your mouth, “But I thought we broke up cleanly. We just went our separate ways.” She grabs your chin, and forces your face up to stare into hers. Her green eyes are watering at the base, emotion coursing through them. “Cleanly? You destroyed my life. And you didn’t even realize it.” With your cheeks pinched by her hands, you murmur, “I didn’t know it affected you like that – please, you have to believe me! I’m sorry!” “It wasn’t the breakup. If you hadn’t broken up with me, I would’ve dropped you in a week. I was just…I was just a little overwhelmed.” She lets go of your head, dropping it back onto your soft cushion of hair, and reaches back, plunging a finger into your vagina. Not again. Your mind goes blank. “Kind of like you are now,” she smiles a sad smile as you come back to the conversation, her stopping as soon as she started. You lick your lips, ashamed and confused by why you want her to keep going, so badly it’s on the forefront of your mind. “Do you remember what happened? When you threw my deepest secret into the wind for everyone to see?” You do. How could you not? A month before you broke up, if you recall correctly, you may have dropped some information to your boys about a certain proclivity Claire had. You aren’t really proud of it. I mean, you didn’t mean to start a bunch of shit for her – you didn’t know it would be a big deal. Do you speak up? [[I didn’t think it would be a big deal! I only told my friends!]] [[Yeah. I remember.]] [[Stay silent. This isn’t the time]]

This is so fucked up. Your ex-girlfriend is sitting on your stomach, above the new vagina she’s somehow given you, as you are constantly aroused by your own skin and parts that appeared on you when you rapidly and suddenly changed into a woman on a Thursday morning. You still can’t fathom that you have breasts now. The feel of your hair on the back of your neck is strange and unwelcome, but also a little hot at the same time. You’re basking in pleasure from a previous orgasm, straining because you desperately want and need another one, and crying now out of fear, stress, and a little bit, maybe, of guilt, now that you’ve just had a teenage girl’s disownment and abandonment put on your head. This is far too much for you right now. But Claire doesn’t care. “Do you know what followed my unexpected outing, $name? Did you notice that alongside your varsity soccer trophies? Wrapped up in your pathetic high school self-importance?” Ah, no. You do know. “You. Broke up with me. I, clinging to you like a security blanket – because you were the only person left, $name, the only person left who would talk to me like a person and not either a freak or a sex object – was broken up with by you. The guy who I had put my trust in, and betrayed it. The guy who I both hated and loved, constantly rationalizing what you did and trying to preserve my image of you as a good guy. You had “become interested” in someone else.” Shit. You broke up with her a month after she was outed. It wasn’t that you didn’t still like her. But you were a sophomore dating a junior and you didn’t have the capacity to really love someone. Still don’t, to be honest. Not like she did. You had been talking to a cute girl named Kate in your Spanish class, and did a project with her. And Kate was fiiiiiinnnnneee. Like, considered to be the hottest girl in the school. Blonde. Bouncy. A fucking cheerleader. You had just watched a shitload of Glee with Claire, and really, really wanted to nail Kate. So, being a decent guy – or so you thought – you took Claire out, and told her that things were getting too serious for you – that you couldn’t handle being her support and that you needed to take a couple of steps back. You ended things, holding Claire as she sat there on a pier, emotionless, telling you it was fine and that she understood. And the next day, you went to a party, did shots off of Kate’s toned stomach, and took her upstairs and got an absolutely wonderful BJ. The next night, you fucked her after a football game where you hooked up in the stands. But you had thought that Claire was fine with the breakup. She didn’t even cry. “You broke my heart, $name. I cried for days. Weeks. I didn’t even think I had tears left when I started because I had already lost my friends and family, and then you pulled yourself right out of the whole thing.” Well. Apparently, you were wrong on that whole crying thing. “I had no one.” She wipes the corner of her eyes. “And I watched you make out with one of the bitches who tore me down, who taunted me when she found out I was bi, at a football game less than two days later. And I get to hear that you immediately fucked her. Like I was nothing.” Well, shit. You didn’t even know she was there. “You didn’t even know I was there. Why should you have? You never cared about the impact of your actions.” She sighs, a long sigh, not defeated, but a little resigned. “And that brings us to now. I’ve seen you at Nico’s a couple of times this year. I usually have gone and hidden in the back while you mack on girls who think you’re twenty. But I heard from an old friend that you were still talking about me. Like I was an achievement. You date a bi chick, good for you,” she waves her hands mockingly. “So, $name, I decided I can’t let this go. You can’t be allowed to become an adult without learning some responsibility. You’re such a little…Agh. You just suck so much and you don’t even realize it. I’d wait until you got to college for it to tear you down and build you back up, but I’m not confident it will.” She looks up, as if she’s looking into the future. “I would guess you’d join a frat. Assault some women, maybe – accidentally, of course. Maybe chalk it up to a drunk grey area. So to save any future women from your lack of any semblance of dealing with the consequences of your actions, I’m going to teach you. [[That doesn’t sound good.]]

“So, I’ve made you into this.” She gestures to your body. To your face. Your angelic hair, your perfect nose, your breasts, hips, and ass. “You made me a slut. The only guy I had ever slept with,” she laughs with incredulity,” my boyfriend of six months, who I lost my virginity to, made me a slut. Without me even opening my legs. So that’s what I’ve done to you,” she smiles. Then, quickly grabs and twists your nipples. You nearly orgasm. “This body you’ve been given is so…sensitive,” she says, “so suggestible. You’re a sex machine. Into everything, and everyone. Anything could slide through your lips," she says, popping her own lips out to emphasize the last syllable, and you imagine something hard going through your own, before shaking your head, hair rippling, as you reject the odd, stray thought. “I want to give you a consequence. This is it. You have seven days,” she holds up two hands. Seven fingers. “To survive. To not lose yourself to what you made me. And it’s gonna be hard,” she licks her lips, and puts a finger in your mouth. You yield to it, and gently suck on it unconsciously. She laughs. “Hard to not lose yourself.” You pull away, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Claire slowly gets up, a hand on your hip, and holds out a hand. [[Take it, and get up.]] [[Refuse it, and stand.]] [[Adjust, but stay on the floor.]]

You take her hand, and she lifts you up. You nearly fall over from all the new weights and centers on your body, and she catches you, holding your tiny body in her arms. You realize you've shrunk a large amount, and are now even shorter than her - somewhere around 5' 2", you guess. Claire strokes your hair gently, and you find yourself leaning into her, spooning her upright. You can't seem to stand by yourself, or pull away from her warm, soft body. "Seven days," she repeats quietly, leaning into your ear, placing your chin on her shoulder. "Seven days to prove that you're not just a sex-addicted asshole. That you care about anything at all. That you understand responsibility. Which is why you're going to be challenged." She backs you into the sink's counter, you walking backwards uncomfortably until your newly giant ass is resting on the side of the counter. She lifts you up unceremoniously by the waist, dropping your fat butt onto the ledge. You let out a little “eek”, the high-pitched sound out of place in your mouth. You feel so little control, and so weak. Like a plaything. Claire purses her lips, like she’s holding back a smile. “Your friends aren’t innocent in my book.” Ah, no, you think. This can’t be good. “So, they’re part of this. Not equal in blame, not the same violators of trust that you are – but not fucking innocent.” She rubs your waist where she’s holding it, caressing your hips, the warm air of the humid room tickling your genitals. “You have seven days to prevent your friends from falling like you have,” her lips smoothly tell, “Seven days to find them. To help them. To pull them back from the brink,” she pauses, “I’ve put them on.” “Seven days, seven friends. And saving them is going to put you in pretty risky situations.” She trails a finger down your neck to your navel, passing your breast with a shiver. “And you don’t have to save them.” She tilts her head in an innocent look, wide, green eyes meeting yours, and you flinch away. “I don’t have to? What does that mean?” you ask, taking in the scenario she’s giving you. “If you think you’re not responsible for their safety, for the way they were before last night, you can leave them. Save yourself. There’s no need for you to put yourself into the compromising situations the journey to rescue them will take you to if you want to focus on yourself,” she says, putting a sweet note into her voice as if you’re a princess and deserve to be treated better than them. The sarcasm is palpable. [[She lets go of you.]] <<set $sub to $sub + 1>>

You reject her hand, and stand up on your own. As you rise, you nearly fall over from all the new weights and centers on your body, and she catches you, holding your tiny body in her arms, laughing lightly. You realize you've shrunk a large amount, and are now even shorter than her - somewhere around 5' 2", you guess. Claire strokes your hair gently, and you find yourself leaning into her, spooning her upright. You can't seem to stand by yourself, or pull away from her warm, soft body. "Seven days," she repeats quietly, leaning into your ear, placing your chin on her shoulder. "Seven days to prove that you're not just a sex-addicted asshole. That you care about anything at all. That you understand responsibility. Which is why you're going to be challenged." She backs you into the sink's counter, you walking backwards uncomfortably until your newly giant ass is resting on the side of the counter. She lifts you up unceremoniously by the waist, dropping your fat butt onto the ledge. You let out a little “eek”, the high-pitched sound out of place in your mouth. You feel so little control, and so weak. Like a plaything. Claire purses her lips, like she’s holding back a smile. “Your friends aren’t innocent in my book.” Ah, no, you think. This can’t be good. “So, they’re part of this. Not equal in blame, not the same violators of trust that you are – but not fucking innocent.” She rubs your waist where she’s holding it, caressing your hips, the warm air of the humid room tickling your genitals. “You have seven days to prevent your friends from falling like you have,” her lips smoothly tell, “Seven days to find them. To help them. To pull them back from the brink,” she pauses, “I’ve put them on.” “Seven days, seven friends. And saving them is going to put you in pretty risky situations.” She trails a finger down your neck to your navel, passing your breast with a shiver. “And you don’t have to save them.” She tilts her head in an innocent look, wide, green eyes meeting yours, and you flinch away. “I don’t have to? What does that mean?” you ask, taking in the scenario she’s giving you. “If you think you’re not responsible for their safety, for the way they were before last night, you can leave them. Save yourself. There’s no need for you to put yourself into the compromising situations the journey to rescue them will take you to if you want to focus on yourself,” she says, putting a sweet note into her voice as if you’re a princess and deserve to be treated better than them. The sarcasm is palpable. [[She lets go of you.]] <<set $sub to $sub - 2>>

You reject her hand, and adjust your position on the floor, afraid of your balance. You twist your body, hand bracing your torso and heavy chest up, and you sweep your hair behind your face, poofing it backwards like you’ve done this a million times, following it with placing your hand on your up-facing hip. Claire laughs. “You look like a centerfold, $name. This is going to be good.” You frown, and realizing how you look, ass bumping up above your waist, breasts somehow defying gravity and not drooping, hair swept over like you’re waiting on a bed for a thick cock – weird thought, there. Especially weird because it makes you wet, and salivate. You picture a large dick making its way to your mouth, and you unconsciously open it a crack to accept your imaginati… Snap out of it, $name! You get a hold of yourself. Not wanting to look like a bedded bimbo, you start to stand up. As you rise, you nearly fall over from all the new weights and centers on your body, and Claire catches you, holding your tiny body in her arms, laughing lightly. “Decide to get up,” She emphasizes the up, “After all?” You realize you've shrunk a large amount, and are now even shorter than her - somewhere around 5' 2", you guess. Claire strokes your hair gently, and you find yourself leaning into her, spooning her upright. You can't seem to stand by yourself, or pull away from her warm, soft body. "Seven days," she repeats quietly, leaning into your ear, placing your chin on her shoulder. "Seven days to prove that you're not just a sex-addicted asshole. That you care about anything at all. That you understand responsibility. Which is why you're going to be challenged." She backs you into the sink's counter, you walking backwards uncomfortably until your newly giant ass is resting on the side of the counter. She lifts you up unceremoniously by the waist, dropping your fat butt onto the ledge. You let out a little “eek”, the high-pitched sound out of place in your mouth. You feel so little control, and so weak. Like a plaything. Claire purses her lips, like she’s holding back a smile. “Your friends aren’t innocent in my book.” Ah, no, you think. This can’t be good. “So, they’re part of this. Not equal in blame, not the same violators of trust that you are – but not fucking innocent.” She rubs your waist where she’s holding it, caressing your hips, the warm air of the humid room tickling your genitals. “You have seven days to prevent your friends from falling like you have,” her lips smoothly tell, “Seven days to find them. To help them. To pull them back from the brink,” she pauses, “I’ve put them on.” “Seven days, seven friends. And saving them is going to put you in pretty risky situations.” She trails a finger down your neck to your navel, passing your breast with a shiver. “And you don’t have to save them.” She tilts her head in an innocent look, wide, green eyes meeting yours, and you flinch away. “I don’t have to? What does that mean?” you ask, taking in the scenario she’s giving you. “If you think you’re not responsible for their safety, for the way they were before last night, you can leave them. Save yourself. There’s no need for you to put yourself into the compromising situations the journey to rescue them will take you to if you want to focus on yourself,” she says, putting a sweet note into her voice as if you’re a princess and deserve to be treated better than them. The sarcasm is palpable. [[She lets go of you.]] <<set $sub to $sub + 2>>

Turning to the door, swishing her hair behind her haughtily, she turns back as she reaches for the doorknob. "I know your dad was out of town in Philly this week. Convenient. With a little help, I had your mom convinced to go visit your sister. I'll text you what I need you to do every day, and you'll do it, or you'll stay like this. Keep your phone on. And don't try calling the police or your family. Feel free to try your friends," she winks. "There are fates worse than this," and she gestures to your body with an upturned palm. "If you care about your friends," she opens the door, "I would check up on them." She starts walking out. Then stops, and you see a smile on the corner of her mouth. "If you'd like, though..." She crosses the room instantly, the door swinging closed behind her, and her hands are back on your waist, her face centimeters from yours, the scent of her filling your nose, intoxicating you, the feel of her breasts as they once more press against yours making you itch for more. "I can finish what I've started here. No risk. No chance of losing yourself, yet. Just to show you what you could have if you truly," She licks your cheek. "Utterly." She licks your neck. "Completely." she's getting quieter, her voice breathier, and you can feel the heat on your body as she speaks, before she kisses your stomach. "Try this." She kisses your inner thigh. Your eyes have closed, your breathing speeding up. You want this. You feel a heat in your groin, feel the breath wetly blowing against your new equipment. You look down, and see wide, dusky, beautiful eyes batting their lashes at you. She's pulled down her dress, and her lovely, perfect C-cups are out between your legs. You can see her thong again, her dress hiked up. She licks her lips slowly, with a long and elegant tongue. You watch your breasts rise and fall above her head. You pull your hair over your shoulder, stroking its incredible length, feeling more and more need by the second, and you imagine her tongue inside you. You let out a little moan involuntarily. What is wrong with you, Jesus. You're so...wet. You want this. [[Let her.->Tease]] [[Tell her to stop.->Tease2]]

You nod, eyes fixed on hers, still stroking your hair to calm yourself. You feel her breathing speed up. You spread your legs wider, and place your hands back on the counter to brace yourself up. Claire closes her eyes. You hold your breath. Then she pushes her face forward, and your whole world goes white. The feeling of her tongue on your clit, on your pussy lips, is heavenly. You immediately start squirming - it's too much for you to handle - but she clamps down on your thick thighs with her hands, pushing you into the counter, and just keeps lashing away. Circle. Zig-zag. A. B. C. You can feel each line, each curve her tongue makes, the warm wetness deep in your core, and you start to moan again, getting into the experience. You curl over her head, placing your hands on the top of her hair, and grip into it, long fingernails running through the thick auburn stream. Your legs kick slightly, now so short they don't touch the ground from your seat on the countertop, and you wrap them around her back, the endless movement of her mouth making you cry out, "Ooooohh my gooood. Oh my god, Claire." She looks up, fingering you suddenly as she uses her mouth to speak instead of pleasure you. "Mmmm. You taste good. I like it when you say my name." She's using her other hand to rub her own breast now, no need to hold you down now that you're wrapped around her tightly. She slowly stands up, still plunging her pointer into you, your mouth open as you bounce back and forth from the impact. She leans in to kiss you, and you start grabbing at her dress. You want it off. You want her close. She pulls you off the ledge, and you're standing in her arms, her finger bouncing you up and down as you gasp into her mouth. You've managed to get her dress up her body to just under her breasts, her thong dropping to the floor, and she releases you from her prodding for a second to pull the dress over her head and throw it to the floor. She grips your face in her hands, stroking your cheek, and kisses you deeply, your own feminine juices sticking between your tongues as you push into her as much as you can, wanting to share the same space. Your arms are on her shoulders, hers on your face, as you link tongues, your lips pressed against hers, your breasts flowing around her own. She slams you against the closed door, you smiling and laughing a little as she licks circles around your nipple. The ecstasy has a firm grasp on your mind. You couldn't be enjoying this more - and from her eyes, you can tell she's feeling the same way. Then, she drags you down to the ground, on top of the soft rug, and she's on top of you again. [[Take it like a woman.]] <<set $sub to $sub + 1>>

You freeze. Addled by liquor and sudden appearance of Claire, your brain stumbles over itself trying to say the words in your head, but gives up and just hopes she'll respond to the simple question, "Claire?". You take a closer look at your ex. A black, backless dress over C-cup breasts and a thin waist with nice curves. Thick, wavy auburn hair down to her mid back, gleaming in the street lights. Tall heels with sharp points, leading up toned legs to a perky, tight ass. She's holding a pack of cigarettes with small, dainty hands, light-pink shaded lips opening in a perplexed smile. You remember those lips, soft and supple - and your eyes move up to hers. Beautiful green, her shadowed eyes blink under thick lashes. Her forehead is a little scrunched at seeing you, the perfect lines of her striking face crumpled in confusion, and then becoming - excitement? You can make out the word she's saying, though you can't hear it, as you see those stunning lips move. "$name!" she says, "I haven't seen you in forever!" You're a little shocked she hasn't tried to stab you or told the bouncer that's only a few steps behind you to turn you into a compact cube yet. She's even smiling now, perfect white teeth contrasting against the light pink of her fantastic lips. You forgot how nice her smile was - and her lips. Unfortunately, your reminiscing leads to you not keeping up with the conversation, and a moment of awkward silence. Will steps in to your apparent rescue. "Shit! Claire! It's been a while. I haven't seen you since...," and realizing where he's going, Will falls silent. Claire, staring directly into your eyes with her beautifully shadowed, thick-lashed green eyes, pulls her gaze away from you with what seems like an eternity of effort, and looks to Will. "Since $name and I broke up, right? Are you guys out for $name's birthday? I'd ask him, but he seems to have gone mute or something." You snap back into the conversation. "Yeah! Yeah, it's my birthday. Uh. We just got in here - we got stuck in that line." Nick adds on, "Yep - It's like we were waiting for a new iPhone," and Wrench cringes. Under his breath - directed to Nick - he murmurs, "Shut up and don't speak anymore." Claire smiles, dazzling you and your friends. You swear to yourself that since you dated, she's absolutely blossomed into a goddess. She was nice-looking when you dated, but now - Jesus. "Yeah - this is a pretty big night for Nico's," she laughs, a melodic chuckle that makes you wonder why you broke up in the first place. "But hey! It's great to see you, and I'm glad you all are still friends. Why don't you find me later? I'm working - gotta earn those tips - but I'll be around!" You nod, and smile at her. Those gorgeous green eyes meet yours, lashes dropping as she smiles back with a flirtatious charm. She touches your arm softly as she walks by. "See ya soon!" [[Well, you're inside.->Enter the Club. Finally.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity + 1>>

You can't do this. Jesus. You can't do this. She just got through telling you you're a sex machine - do you really want to know how good it could be? That's like taking someone who has a genetic predilection for addiction and giving them some heroin, saying "It's the best in the world." You open your mouth to reject her offer, squirming from how aroused you are, and she stands up to put a finger over your mouth before you can speak, the words difficult to push out as you stare at her breasts. "Good. You're off to a good start. If you can keep saying no, maybe you'll make it through this week." She starts leaving again, pulling her dress back up over her tits, and slipping her thong up her legs, leaning on your knee as she does, her perfume tickling your nose, and hair draping onto your leg. You're reconsidering your rejection every second, watching streams of your wetness slip down the counter to the floor from your dripping sex. She's closing the door behind her, as she looks back. "Don't say no to everything, though," she winks. "Live a little. I'll text you later what you'll be doing today." She flashes you a peace sign. "Stay sex positive. You asshole. And wash yourself up, you're… leaking everywhere." With that, Claire leaves, you twitching on the counter, clutching your arms over your chest, confused, buried in emotions, and so goddamn horny you can barely think. This is starting out as one hell of a birthday. [[Get down from the counter.]] <<set $need to $need + 2>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

You place your hands on her hips, grinding against her. With your eyes closed, you put your lips on hers, softly, tenderly enjoying intimate, connected kissing. You can feel her eyelashes brush on your face, her cheek on your cheek, your nose rubbing on hers. She lifts your chin up, tongue pushing further into your mouth, her body splayed on yours. Everything is amplified. Her thigh is between your legs, rubbing against your lips. You trace your hands around her waist, her hips, her chest, her stunning breasts, feeling every inch of her body like it’s the first time. Claire is forehead to forehead with you, panting, smiling, and you open your eyes and look into hers. There’s something there that isn’t hate, and you, amid the heat of your need, can’t help but wonder what it is. She grasps your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers, and leads it south. Soon, still locked into her eyes, she’s running your hand on the inside of her thigh, and you get the hint. You start rubbing her clit, moving your fingers up the lips until you feel the telltale bump, and she gasps. Regaining a bit of control, you begin playing on her clit like it’s the red dot from an old laptop keyboard. As she begins to push her hips into your hand, you slip two of your fingers into her, her vagina already as wet as yours, using your thumb to stimulate her button. You feel her grabbing your hip, and moving it inward, until the same pressure is back, driving you into the throes of passion, and soon you’re both fingering each other, moaning in harmony, her sweet voice and your new one blending in unison. She begins bouncing on top of you, her breasts jiggling up and down, the thump of her toned ass on your legs bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. The wave is cresting back at your sex, a heat buzzing in you and building and building and building until [[You scream.]] <<set $sub to $sub + 1>>

You start getting off. But you, feeling the drying juice between your legs and on your hands, think you should start getting a handle on your situation. Find some clothes, maybe. Take a shower. Call your friends. It’s time to show some resolve, because no matter what she said – no matter how good –Ah! How good you feel right now, you’re not losing yourself this week. You sit up, and bundle your hair into a pony tail, grabbing one of your sister’s ties from its spot on the rack. You blink. Why did you do that? The new mannerisms that seemed to come with your transformation are going to take some getting used to – you feel so girly, so small, so feminine and so… bubbly! You stand, wiping away the new fog on the mirror that came from your steamy transformation, and look at yourself. You're frowning, contrasting with the glow on your angelic face. Your hair is tied in a high pony, curling slightly as the waves travel down to the bottom of your ass. You wipe the spit off your lips, and dry your hands on a towel next to the sink. Placing a hand on your hip, you cock it to the side, and pout your lips. If you’d seen yourself around when you were male, you would’ve dropped everything to try and get with you. The pronoun confusion from that thought baffles you, and you look to the side. What the fuck do you do next? You're still very, very horny - rejecting Claire has left you wanting, desperately, a release. You eye a thick, cylindrical shampoo bottle, and imagine plunging it into your new cunny, and more of your juices begin to flow down your thick thighs. Jesus. [[Grab the bottle. You want this. You need this.]] [[Shower. You’re covered in your own cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.]] [[Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<set $need to $need + 1>>

mark: last update stop new update start

“aaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhh,” the sound erupting from the deepest part of your core, you cum, squirting all over her hand as your new body arcs up, you thrusting harder and harder into Claire, and she, looking at your beautiful, sensuous body exploding in the throes of sex, starts to go as well, until she’s cumming on your hand, letting small orgasmic sounds out of her wide open mouth, “NnNnn. EEEeee. oooohhhh”. She curls onto you again, you both still impaled on each other’s hands, orgasming together. You feel a pressure lower than where your new equipment, a finger probing at your voluptuous ass. Before you can do anything, you still lost in the tidal wave of feeling extending across your body, you feel a new interloper in your anus, and a finger slips into your rear. Everything magnifies, and you tip over the edge, the world turning white until all you can feel is the spasm of your body, the feel of Claire against you, the scent of your Mango shampoo and her lavender perfume, so feminine, so pure. You’re still cresting – no idea how long this is lasting, clinging tightly to your ex. You wish it could last forever. Nothing you’ve ever done compares. In what seems like an eternity later, you open your eyes again, and take a deep breath, chest rising and falling under the prone woman atop you. Claire props herself up on your chest, her elbows on your flat stomach, breasts squeezed tightly between her arms. She shakes her matted hair away from her face, draping it on your chest. An innocent smile is on her lips, and she bends one arm up to pull at her lips with her fingers, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “Wow.” “Wow,” you repeat breathily, running your fingers through your hair, crossing your legs underneath her as if you’re trying to hold the feeling in. “That was…That was something.” She kisses you lightly, one small, careful kiss, before brushing her upper lip against your lower one, and pulling back. “Hmmm.” She straddles you again, knees on the floor next to your hips, and bends back to sit up. Tossing her hair over her back, she fondles your breasts one last time, as you’ve propped your head up on your hands, resting on the floor in the afterglow. She’s looking at you with that curious look again. Not hate or anger. Not sadness. Something interesting, and something that fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling that makes you giggle. God. You can’t stand that you do that now, and your overjoyed, sexed-out face pouts in a cute little frown. She laughs, and stands up, awkwardly disentangling herself from you as you remain on the floor, turning onto your side as she slides her dress over her head and her thong up her legs, picking her heels up in her hand. You place a hand under your head, in the supermodel, centerfold pose, finding it feeling natural, not noticing you look like an absolute babe. “We…we may have to do that again before this week is up…or before you lose yourself to those feelings,” she says as she turns to leave. “Don’t think you’re in any way off the hook. Gotta say, though, as a first lesbian experience,” she winks, “You weren’t half bad. Much better than you were as a man.” Ouch. But you’re still having trouble forming complex thoughts, them literally fucked out of you a moment ago. “I’ll text you later with what you’re going to do today. I’d take a shower if I were you,” she gestures to your soaking folds, “and maybe text your friends. They’re not going to be as happy with their night as you were a second ago.” She closes the door behind her as she walks out of the bathroom, sighing in contentment, and when she’s gone, you run your hands down your face, your legs still twitching, her scent still in your nose. You know you could keep going. But you, feeling the drying juice between your legs and on your hands, think you should start getting a handle on your situation. Find some clothes, maybe. Take a shower. Call your friends. It’s time to show some resolve, because no matter what she said – no matter how good –Ah! How good that felt, you’re not losing yourself this week. You sit up, and bundle your hair into a pony tail, grabbing one of your sister’s ties from its spot on the rack. You blink. Why did you do that? The new mannerisms that seemed to come with your transformation are going to take some getting used to – you feel so girly, so small, so feminine and so… bubbly! You stand, wiping away the new fog on the mirror that came from your steamy sex, and look at yourself. You’re still smiling, a glow on your angelic face. Your hair is tied in a high pony, curling slightly as the waves travel down to the bottom of your ass. You wipe the spit off your lips, and dry your hands on a towel next to the sink. Placing a hand on your hip, you cock it to the side, and pout your lips. If you’d seen yourself around when you were male, you would’ve dropped everything to try and get with you. The pronoun confusion from that thought baffles you, and you look to the side. What the fuck do you do next? [[Shower. You’re covered in your own, and Claire’s, cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.]] [[Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<set $need to $need - 2>> <<set $hadsexwithclaire to 1>>

<<if $masturbated is 1>> You sigh. This is already getting out of control. The high quickly fading, looking down at your fingers, you see they’re pruned up from being inside you - long nails sparkling under the cum that's on them. You look at the shower, and decide to use it – you smell like sex. The smell is actually making you dizzy, and you giggle as you trip on your way into the stall, stabilizing yourself with a thin, delicate arm. Taking the band out of your hair, you shake it lose, flipping it effortlessly behind you as you jut out a hip. You're hoping that whatever changes happened in your mind as well as your body will know how to wash yourself, because you've never washed a vagina before. You turn the shower up, hot, and step inside. The water feels amazing on your skin, and you run your hands over it, marveling at the softness. Luckily, it seems you do know how to manage your body, and you soap up your breasts and thin waist expertly, and wash out your recently-used hole. As you start to wet your hair, you remember that you left the shampoo - and the conditioner - outside the shower. You giggle again, frustrated at how easily and sexily the sound leaves your gorgeous lips, and pop outside the shower to grab the pair. After rinsing off the bottles - they needed it - you lather up your long, pendulous hair, and begin the process of washing it. Which takes ten minutes. [[You rinse yourself off, and step out of the shower.]] <<endif>> <<if $hadsexwithclaire is 1>> You sigh. This is already getting out of control. The high quickly fading, looking down at your fingers, you see they’re pruned up from being inside Claire - long nails sparkling under the cum that's on them. Before you can stop yourself, you've put your digits between your fat lips, sucking the sweet juice off of them. Quickly, you withdraw your hand. "What am I doing," you murmur out loud in your new voice, and take a look at the shower. Looking down at your pinup body, you see rivulets of cum and sweat running down your legs, and realize you need to shower again - you smell like potent sex. The smell is actually making you dizzy, and you giggle as you trip on your way into the stall, stabilizing yourself with a thin, delicate arm. Taking the band out of your hair, you shake it lose, flipping it effortlessly behind you as you jut out a hip. You're hoping that whatever changes happened in your mind as well as your body will know how to wash yourself, because you've never washed a vagina before. You turn the shower up, hot, and step inside. The water feels amazing on your skin, and you run your hands over it, marveling at the softness. Luckily, it seems you do know how to manage your body, and you soap up your breasts and thin waist expertly, and wash out your recently-used hole. Grabbing the shampoo and conditioner, you wet your hair, and begin the process of washing it. Which takes 10 minutes, the length and body making what was once a minute-long procedure a complicated, skillful task. You don't find yourself minding, though, and as you run your hands down your hair, you find it calming. Serene. You giggle again, frustrated at how easily and sexily the sound leaves your gorgeous lips. "Shut up, $name," you say to yourself. Then, the process is complete. [[You rinse yourself off, and step out of the shower.]] <<endif>>

You strut down the hallway to Justine’s room. While it may not be the most, uh, conservative style clothing – it’ll fit your proportions better than your mom’s stuff. You open her door, and enter her room. Immediately you are accosted by cute clothes everywhere, and you squeal in excitement! “Ah, come on man,” you chastise yourself afterwards. You enter her walk-in closet – and somehow, you know every perfect combination of colors, every style, every name. You don’t want to stay in here very long – you feel like you like it a bit too much – so you quickly try on a series of shirts, before being forced by your over-size breasts to settle on a perky white halter top. It has padded breasts – so you shouldn’t need to wear a bra with it, your brain tells you. Which is good. Since you’re about twice the size of your sister. Moving on, you grab a short skirt that manages to fit around your wide hips and bubble butt. It’s a simple, black pencil skirt with a slit up the side – falling to about two-thirds up your thigh. You grab a pair of white panties from her underwear drawer – everything is lacy and girly, so it’s not much of a choice, and slip them up your legs, forcefully stretching them to fit you. Realizing that no matter how you turn, the panties are going to wedge themselves between your ass, you give up, and accept it. There’s no way you’re wearing a skirt without underwear. You’d drip all over the floor – and you giggle, once again, at the thought, losing the will to stop yourself. You look around at the array of shoes – all heels. Fuck. You hope you know how to walk in them, and slip on the shortest pair – a three-inch, black set – and to your surprise, you strut around the room like an expert. You can’t help but like the way they feel, and you glance in your sister’s mirror over your shoulder – your butt looks great with these. You look at yourself fully, turning around with a flourish. Dishy. The white and black really complement each other, and with your hair, it’s gorgeous. You bite your lip seductively and pose, unable to control yourself. Ugh. You’re fucking stacked. As you walk out, you smell a wonderful scent – and look over to see a bottle of perfume on her desk. You bounce over, and spray a little in all the right places. MMmmm. You smell soooo good. Like an irresistable flower that you have to stick your nose in. You hug yourself and rub your face against your hair, getting wet yet again. After a moment, you stop yourself. Jesus. This body is powerful. <<if $hasphone is 1>> [[You go downstairs.]] <<endif>> <<set $clothes to 1>> <<if $hasphone is 0>> [[You really should find your phone. It's your only lifeline at this point.->Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<endif>> <<set $need to $need + 1>> <<set $look to 10>>

You strut down the hallway to your mother’s room. While it may not be the best fitting style of your options – you’re mom’s a good deal smaller than Justine, and you’re already about twice her size in the breasts and ass category – it’ll fit your reservations better than your sister’s stuff. You open your parents’ door, and enter the room. It’s an elegant room – a simple king-sized bed, a lovely mirror for makeup, a well-made dresser – it’s an adult heaven. Clean. Pure. Lovely. You enter the walk-in closet – and somehow, you know every perfect combination of colors, every style, every name. You don’t want to stay in here very long – you feel like you like it a bit too much – so you quickly try on a series of shirts, before being forced by your over-size breasts to settle on a button-up blue long-sleeved shirt. You can’t find a bra, however, that fits you – so you’ll have to do without. The feeling of the silk shirt on your nipples quickly erects them, and since it’s a little on the small side, it’s very, very tight – and your areolas and nips are clear to see through the thin material. You shake your head. It’s the best you’ve got. Moving on, you grab a long skirt that manages to fit around your wide hips and bubble butt. It’s a simple, white pencil skirt with a slit up the side – falling to about your knees. You grab a pair of white panties from her underwear drawer – surprised at how lacy and sexy it all is, so it’s not much of a choice, and slip them up your legs, forcefully stretching them to fit you. Realizing that no matter how you turn, the panties are going to wedge themselves between your ass, you give up, and accept it. There’s no way you’re wearing a skirt without underwear. You’d drip all over the floor – and you giggle, once again, at the thought, losing the will to stop yourself. You look around at the array of shoes – a collection of flats, heels, and sneakers. You settle on a simple black pair of flats, and find them comfortable and easy to wear. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning all the way around. Lovely. The blue and white really complement each other, and with your hair, it’s gorgeous. You bite your lip seductively and pose, unable to control yourself. Ugh. You’re fucking stacked. As you walk out, you smell a wonderful scent – and look over to see a bottle of perfume on her desk. You bounce over, and spray a little in all the right places. MMmmm. You smell soooo good. Like a summer breeze. You hug yourself and rub your face against your hair. You feel...nice. The body doesn't feel quite as alien, and you find yourself enjoying how it feels to be in it. After a moment, you stop yourself. Jesus. This body is powerful. <<if $hasphone is 1>> [[You go downstairs.]] <<endif>> <<set $clothes to 2>> <<if $hasphone is 0>> [[You really should find your phone. It's your only lifeline at this point.->Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<endif>> <<set $look to 11>>

As…intriguing…as your body feels right now, you know you need to find out what the fuck Claire meant when she told you that your friends are part of this too. You’re already freaking out about yourself – but she’s lumped the responsibility for seven – wait. Seven? [[There were only six friends with you last night. Oh. Oh no.]]

As you look in shock at your new mane, you feel a peculiar itching around your nipples. Sliding the curtains of hair resting on your chest aside, and unbuttoning the top four buttons of your shirt and pulling it towards your side, you watch as your nipples, already hard from whatever happened when you drank the champagne and came, puff up, rivulets of sweat beginning to curve off them as the flesh underneath them swells. "Ah, No. This can’t be happening," you say, your voice cracking slightly, to which you cover your mouth with a hand. Fuck. You feel your lips swelling under your palm, and pull it aside while you scramble for your phone in your pants pockets, desperately reaching for your lifeline The itching and swelling continues slowly as you use your sleeve to wipe the sweat off your forehead, and you manage to get your phone out of your pocket, struggling with the pockets of your slacks as they tighten, making the phone stick closely to you. Looking at your face with the selfie camera of the phone, sweeping your tresses to the sides, you see that your lips are indeed getting even bigger. They start to purse outward as you turn your head, becoming a purplish pout. "I can't believe this is happening," You say in a bubbly, sweet voice that hits a much higher pitch than before. "Ah! Is that my voice?" you say, watching the large lips on the screen form the words. A pulse in your chest draws your eyes back down, as you feel your stomach cave in. You scream, but little comes out as your waist contracts, the air literally forced out of your lungs as they change alongside your proportions. Your nipples grow as you watch, becoming thimble-sized and puffy, the areolas expanding into darker, larger discs. You put your hands on your chest as it heaves for breath, and you feel the swelling increase rapidly. As what you can only describe as breasts begin filling your hands, you try to cry out again for help, but your body is still changing, and the cry gets swallowed by the crunch of your shoulders as they cave inward, and your mouth snaps shut as your jawline begins to collapse to a smaller, angular structure. You look back at your phone, tightly grasped in your hand as pain courses through you and you struggle to breathe through your nose, which is likewise shrinking, becoming a dainty, cute, upturned thing between your narrowing but expanding eyes. You watch as your face changes, the ever-growing tits on your chest filling your cupped hands, overflowing with breast. Your eyelashes grow thicker and longer, giving your eyes a feminine beauty. As they become more defined, your big, brown irises take on a bluish gleam, the whites of your eyes losing their bloodshot nature and purifying for a striking look, even as they remain wide with confusion and dismay. You feel your chest stop growing, and your waist stop contracting, and you pull yourself up from where you collapsed on the hard, cold concrete floor, taking as many breaths as your new lips and throat allow. [[Examine the damage.->Examine the damage 5.]]

You take a look at the damage in your camera. Your face, you quickly evaluate, has become that of a beautiful woman. You have perfectly maintained eyebrows with beautiful, shining blue eyes beneath them, the lashes thick enough to eschew mascara, and combined with the clean white and new shining green of your eyes, they create a striking contrast that you can't seem to look away from, until you have to keep going. Your nose is adorable, to say the least. It's cute, it's small and thin, turned slightly up. You just want to pinch the high-cheekbones surrounding it, but as you continue your survey, you stop on your lips again. You've seen these before, but it's very obvious now - those are some hot lips. Full, luscious, and pursed in a dark purple pout, you don't want to open your mouth because that'll make it yours, and not the reflection in the phone’s. You continue down your neck, now much thinner, and free of its previously jutting Adam's apple, to your chest. With dainty but toned shoulders, your large, spherical breasts sit high and perkily on what used to be your pecs. You estimate from groping them that they're at least E cups, and nice ones, too. As you pinch your newly engorged nipples, your penis, flaccid from the pain of your waist contracting, goes fully erect, and you lose the ability to think for a moment, letting a moan loose. “Uhhhhnnnn.” You put a hand to your mouth, stifling a post-moan giggle. What the hell? Those are some sensitive nipples, you think when the pleasure fades. Below those, you unbutton your shirt all the way, looking at your new proportions. Your waist tapers into a very thin core, with a tight, flat stomach flaring into your slightly swollen hips. You put your hands on the sides of your stomach, the masculine fingers mismatching the smooth contours of your feminine torso, and gasp. You feel a sudden pain in your balls. [[This can't be good.->This can't be good 5.]]

↶The pain spreads, like the dull sensation of being sack-tapped, but stronger, making its way up your shaft until the whole of your genital area is feeling the ache. "No, no no no no no," you start to repeat, moving your hands down in a feeble attempt to shield your dick from what's going down, zipping down your pants and moving your boxers aside. It's no use, however, and you find yourself clutching at a shrinking stick, desperately trying to pull it back out as your balls start to tuck inside a crevasse forming in your body, and your penis begins to disappear. You cry out with pitiful yelps, but they soon turn to charged moans as the ache turns to pleasure, and instead of pulling your penis out you find your hand - with its fingers shrinking, becoming more delicate, the nails extending to a couple centimeters - stroking the shaft as it settles into the top of a cleft where your balls used to be, until, with a wet pop, it shrinks inside, hiding under a hood. You can't stop touching it - you don't want to stop touching it, and with your feminine hands you find it and rub it, the pleasure radiating through your body, fondling yourself under your slowly dampening cotton underwear. As your masturbating on your new clit continues, you look down, face contorted in pleasure, biting your lower lip, as you crumple back to the ground, knees weak. You land on a soft cushion, but looking under you, see nothing. As your right continues rubbing circles on your clit, your left reaches down to grab your ass - and finds a hell of a lot more than it remembered. You hear a ripping from behind you. Shifting to a kneeling position, you lie on your very large breasts and stick your ass in the air so you can see it. "Guh," you moan as your wandering fingers begin plunging into the depths of your new gap, thumb still focused on the bump. It's one hell of an ass by any standard, a thick bubble-butt under quickly pulling apart slacks, threads popping under the strain. You give it a smack with your left, and it jiggles as more seams rip, sending a euphoric giggle through your brain as you manage to fit another finger inside you, bringing it up to two. Your blonde hair swings around you as you tilt your head up and down, running your tongue over your lips. Your mouth feels much too empty, and you stick your left hand’s index and middle finger in it, rubbing your lips over the needed plug. “MMMMMmmmmm” You feel your knees, on the hard storeroom floor, shifting, and watch as your legs begin to shrink, large muscle from long bike rides and leg days consolidating into thick, feminine thighs, pushing the limits of your already tearing pants, and smooth, silky calves that the slacks loosen around. All the hair that used to dust your legs, your arms, your chest and your balls begins to fade away, some of it disappearing into your skin, and some simply falling out. You're left with smooth skin that tans quickly to a healthy glow, and you push your fingers further into your mouth, tickling the back of your throat. You take a look at the arm plunging your hand into your body, and notice how it's lost almost all of its bulk, now a shadow of its former self - bicep traded in for long, lean muscle that doesn't bulge or deform, triceps traded for a perfect proportion to your shoulders and chest. You stuff a third finger up your tunnel, then a fourth, fitting four in as your ring finger and the end of your pinkie get inside. You begin to gasp loudly around the fingers in your mouth, your mind already clear of thought, grunting cute little "Guh"s and "nuh"'s into the open air, your eyes rolling up into your head. Cresting like a massive wave, you orgasm, newly smooth legs twitching underneath you as you eject your hand and ride out the mental stimulation. "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you scream, switching to your newly free cum-covered hand as your mouth’s plaything with a wet smack as it slides between your purple O, tongue splaying against the sweet juice. After the wave falls, you flop over, lying on your back. Your shimmering hair covers parts of your face, and you can taste your own lady cum on your fat lips. "Oooooh. Fuck me," you say, giggling uncontrollably, wiping a thin sheen of spit off your chin and fingers, smiling in the afterglow of something incredible as your eyes stay shut tight. But you’re still so horny. You feel a need in your new pussy. A hole that needs to be filled. You feel so hot – the same warmth that coursed through you as the bubbly hit your lips, penetrating deep into your core. MMm. You’d like to be penetrated, you think. Wait. What the fuck? You pick up your phone, looking at the time – Jesus. Fifteen minutes have passed. You hear a creak that you remember from the door when you entered, and roll your head over, your cheeks flattening the soft waves of your hair, the contact only making your pussy lips twinge, and you find that your fingers are back in your mouth. You see a silhouette come through the door, and shine a flashlight across the room until it rests on you. “What the..” It moves closer. "What the fuck is going on?" You giggle, beautiful blue eyes crinkling in a pouty smile. [[Well, this can't go well.->Well, this can't go well 5.]] <<set $need to $need + 8>> <<set $sub to $sub + 6>> <<set $look to 4>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

It’s a rapid drive to Nico’s, and by 12:45, you’re pulling up a block away from the club frequented by college students from State and townies like you. You sigh in relief. Even with your successful trip for extra pre-game material, it's still lit. The street is packed. This is Grant Street, home of Thursday and Friday night binge-drinking, sorority girls waiting for ubers on the curbs, frat guys puking in the alleys. Crowds of people patrol the street, looking for booze, conversation, or quick and easy sex – it’s a college street, with a college attitude. You all knew parking would be tough – this is the third time you’ve been here, once with your cousins getting you inside, and the other when you tested your fakes for the first time. Jake pulls around a corner onto a side street, managing to find a tiny spot outside of an apartment building. “Alright, I guess I’ll wait here. Meter’s running,” he says, already pulling out his phone and putting in his headphones. You all get out of the car, feeling confident and ready to go. It’s a block to Nico’s, and you pass the typical scenes of a Thursday night – an abandoned heel on the ground, a creepily intimate make-out on a wall, a bunch of guys like yourselves already pretty far into their night yelling about nothing. But you can’t take your eyes off of the college girls. Shadowed, dusky eyes seem to glance at you when any of them pass by, smoldering looks you take as advances towards yourself. Girls in short dresses and shorter skirts, halter tops and sheer. Fuck. The sober part of your brain reminds you how close you are to college. The drunk part tells you you’re already here. The seven of you work your way into the end of the line at Nico’s. It’s long – really long. The usual stream of late-going-out students, normally shorter at this hour, winds its way an entire block – past several empty bars – and ends at you. There’s some kind of drink special tonight, according to the bros you ask in front of you – 10$ for open bar past midnight until 4 AM. “It’s fucking December fifth, man! The repeal of prohibition – when all the bros of history got incredibly fucked up.” You nod your head. That’s a weird-ass thing to have a special for, but you’re not arguing. Open bar is open bar, and open bar brings in the sororities from State like Chick-Fil-A brings in southerners. [[Wait.]] [[Say fuck it and go back to the car.]] [[Try to cut in line.]]

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

At this point, you’re trapped on the ground under the two gorgeous red-heads. One is still sucking your cock, Two straddling your hips, and you can’t help but think how odd this is – where did these women come from? But the thought is quickly pushed out of your head as you feel a much tighter, much wetter pressure on your cock, and bend your abs to peer behind Two. One is lowering herself onto your erection, her pants lying next to your prone body, and she’s moaning as it enters her. You feel the heat within her spread around the circumference of your shaft, and gasp out. That’s a magical vagina, right there. She starts bouncing up and down, her hands on her twin’s shoulders, wild and wavy hair swinging from side to side and brushing against your thighs. The thump of her ass on your legs is soft and pleasant, and you start bucking your hips into her, trying to get deeper into her warm honeypot. Jesus, you think. This is incredible. Two is leaning over you, pushing her chest against yours, and she bites your lower lip, her hair tickling your face. Her eyes are open, staring sultrily into yours, before they close, her lashes brushing against your cheek as she begins to passionately kiss you, her nose rubbing against yours, her lips and tongue probing every inch of your mouth. You can feel the boulder, blocking your ecstasy, begin to move, rolling down the metaphorical hill as your dick thickens and the veins pulse. You try to hold on. [[But feel a different pressure.]]

CHANGELOG: Development of the Will and Dave go into the liquor store path. 1 (2?) new sex scenes there, and a main character transformation that’s pretty intense ;). Your hands grip her head, pulling the silky hair towards your hips, and she giggles, wrapping her lips around the head of your cock. Immediately, you’re overcome with euphoric feeling. Her tongue playing around your tip, sliding across your hole, tentatively and gently becoming familiar with your dick. You look down, into a wide, mirthful pair of shockingly green eyes, beginning to bob up and down as she works her way down. She’s started fondling your balls, gripping the base of your shaft with her manicured hands, and pumps, rubbing her other hand on her long tongue while staring up at you, working the spit-covered palm all around your base, lubing you up. This feels incredible. A tingling sensation builds up where she is servicing you, and the spit is sinking into your skin with a wonderful, hot feeling. She switches between licking and circling the tip of your penis with her dexterous tongue and fat, soft lips, giggling as she strokes it, and you tilt your head back, grunting in ecstasy. Jesus. You’ve never had a blowjob like this. You feel a hand on your lower back, and look down to see her easing up your body, breasts pressed against your front, the firm, perfectly spherical tits yielding into your hard muscles. She’s running her tongue up your chest, past your abs and pecs, until she’s standing right over your groin, her tunnel dripping feminine juices of arousal onto your cock, a hand reaching down to spread it all over, pulling and tugging gently but firmly as you breathe faster and faster. She kisses you on the neck, pressed against you firmly, and moves up to kiss your lips, your face in her hands, and you smell the intoxicating scent of cinnamon on her hair, which drapes onto your shoulders. You pull her towards you, hands caressing her naked back, mouth entangled with her plump lips, tasting a bit of your own pre on her lips. You don’t even care. You feel like you’re about to burst. You’re quickly backed up against a rack as she jumps up and wraps her legs around your back, her firm and heart-shaped ass brushing against your upward-curving hard-on, as it strains to make its way into her crack. You start to fall, still being jacked off, the girl pushing you down as you slowly fall to the ground, using one arm to prevent it from being a bad one. She’s biting your lower lip, and looking with her intoxicating green eyes into yours, swishing her hair back and forth, the ends flipping around your dick. You fall to the floor, straddled like a stud, her crushed into you, close, warm, needed. [[You’re underneath the woman.]]

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

You cum. Immediately. Your mouth opens wide, Two forcing her tongue further in, as One slips a finger into your ass, hitting your prostate, and slamming you into euphoria. You buck your hips wildly as One begins screaming in pleasure, squirting down your shaft and onto your pelvis as she leans back, throwing her hair in a wave to your ankles, and slams herself down, over and over and over again. You see that two has been rubbing her own clit, and seeing you cum, she begins to, her legs becoming jello as she crashes onto you, ass held high in the air, as she smushes her face on yours, biting your lip, giggling through clenched teeth. You’re still cumming as One leans over in her own throes, sticking her curious finger into Two, heightening her peak. As you all begin to come down, she starts moving her hips in circles as your erection disappears, moaning softly. “Nuuuhh. Guuuuhh.” She licks the finger that was in Two, sucking it, and two puts her hands on your shoulders, bending up as she turns to One, and kisses her, their perfect lips exchanging all the fluids that you’ve all produced. You lean up, your mental faculties returning post-coitus. You’re realizing the strangeness of the situation again, and start to freak out a little, even in the afterglow of what was by far the most amazing sex you’ve ever had. “Wait… who are you girls?” You ask, still pinned underneath them, semi-flaccid penis inside One. They laugh. Two reaches down to grip your chin, tilting your head up, her breasts swaying like pendulums over your chest. “We’re your sisters, silly.” She leans over and kisses you again, and you close your eyes, losing yourself for a moment in her electric mouth. Then, something pokes at the corner of your mouth, and you pull away – but it only pushes in. You open your eyes, and One is shoving a bottle in your mouth, a matte red bottle with a chili pepper emblazoned on it. Two is gripping your face, and you can’t move, and a hot liquid starts to pour down your throat, warming it up. The aftertaste hits your tongue - it’s tequila. What? The stream starts to feel good, and your arms – which had been reaching up to throw Two off of you – start to fall back down to her hips, until all you can feel is the heat from the bottle, and you suck on it like a mother’s teat, squelching noises coming from the contact between it and your lips. [[You feel odd.]]

As you suck, mind fading into your single task, you feel…strange. The booze is coursing through you, feeling it in your toes, your hands, your ass – and your dick? You’re back at full attention, and Two grabs it behind her, stroking it calmly, still force-feeding you the tequila. Each gulp, each pull, your lips tingle more and more, until you can feel them enveloping the bottle, forming a perfect O around its top. Two is pushing the bottle further in, and you can see the edges of your lips accepting more and more, the deepening red pursing around the neck as it slides deeper into your mouth, your tongue caressing the sides, until it’s tickling the back of your throat. You feel soooo good, and you blink a couple of times, an eyelash in your eye, and you notice that they’re extending into your view more and more, thicker, darker – a widescreen bar on your eyes. But you don’t care. All you want to do is drink from this bottle. One moves your hands up to grasp the core of the tequila, and you watch as your smaller, daintier hands grab desperately at it, feeding yourself now, your bright red, inch long nails blending with the bottle’s color. You push it further into your mouth until the whole neck is pushing into you, the liquid coursing straight down your throat – no gagging, no rejection. One is next to you now, folded onto her kneeling legs, and begins stroking your hair. You close your eyes, reveling in the sensation, then opening them, as she pulls foot by foot more shimmering red locks past you, spreading them out onto the floor around your head in a fiery halo. Two brushes an eyelash off your dainty, cute little nose, and you stare wide-eyed and innocent into her green eyes, suckling at the bottle. She pulls down on your dick, hard, and you spasm, shooting ropes of cum into the air, some landing on your quickly widening hips, some streaking down the sides of your ever-swelling ass which lifts your back up off the floor, chest sticking more and more forward as it begins to tingle. You moan, opening your fat-lipped mouth, the tequila briefly going down your windpipe as the moan changes pitch and feminizes until it’s a sultry “NNNUUuuuhhhh,” and Two has to close your lips around the bottle as the never-ending stream continues. [[Your chest pushes outwards.]]

Your nipples are standing at attention, and Two rips off the shirt that was barely still on you, and tweaks them, pulling them out. As your pecs turn into bulging spheres, she shapes them like clay, and you squeal, your breathing through your nose increasing, chest bouncing as you grow two massive, perky tits, F-cups at least. As she pumps cum out of your dick, it starts to feel different – smaller, and the sensation – stronger. One has pulled an ocean of hair out of your head, the red locks extending as far as you can see around you, and you release the bottle with one hand to feel the tresses – running your palm and fingers across the waves, soft and full. You smell cinnamon, and realize it’s you, the thought only increasing the sexual euphoria hitting you as your penis shrinks into the rapidly widening hole which has swallowed your balls. As the last of the tip shoots out its last drop of cum, it settles into the top of your cleft, and Two begins to rub it furiously. [[Your eyes cross.]] <<set $look to 5>>

The bottle is empty now, and you release it, it clanking on the floor as it rolls away, and you cup your massive breasts in your tiny hands, the flesh overflowing as you knead and press, as you rub and jiggle. Two has slipped a finger into your new equipment, and is finger-fucking you into oblivion, every thought disappearing from your head besides “More.” One kisses your tequila-stained, slippery lips, her mouth on yours better than it was before, tongues lashing, plump lips pushing at each other. You’re rubbing circles across your nipples as they stand you up, your now thick and feminine thighs barely keeping you upright with your tits and huge, heart-shaped ass throwing you off balance. One holds you by your tiny waist, behind you, kissing you as you turn your head over your shoulder to her, and Two pumps away, fitting two more fingers in your needy hole. You’re moaning as you make out with your slightly less-endowed twin, your hair brushing against the backs of your knees, swaying as you sway, moving your wide hips in circles matching the pattern of Two’s playful rubbing. One is groping your ass, parting the curtains of your hair to squeeze the supple skin, and she goes all in – she starts finger fucking you, parting your O-ring with her thumb, lubing up her fingers in her own pussy. You’ve got three in your new, sopping vagina, and two in your ass, and you start to scream. The feelings are too much – you can’t handle this. A tidal wave is cresting in your mind as you stand on your toes, heels in the air, curling your toes into balls. [[The wave crashes down.]]

You look at the beautiful girls around you, mirror images of yourself – albeit with less generous proportions - and see yourself in them. You are one of them. You gasp. You moan. It builds. “Nuuuhh. Guuuhh. Oohh my goooodd. OOOHHH MMMYY GOODDD.” And the wave hits, crashing against the shores of your mind, and you black out, vagina gushing liquid down your thighs, mouth screaming from plump lips, dusky eyes shut tight as every nerve, every fiber of your being explodes and you cum. Hard. They let you down slowly as everything fades to white, and you drift into the warm heat that’s permeated the core of your soul. [[You dream.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 2>> <<set $need to $need + 8>> <<set $sub to $sub + 9>>

At this point, you’re trapped on the ground under the gorgeous red-head. She is still stroking your cock, straddling your hips, and you can’t help but think how odd this is – where did this woman come from? But the thought is quickly pushed out of your head as you feel a much tighter, much wetter pressure on your cock, and bend your abs to peer behind her chest and torso. The girl is lowering herself onto your erection, her pants somehow off and lying next to your prone body, and she’s moaning as it enters her. You feel the heat within her spread around the circumference of your shaft, and gasp out. That’s a magical vagina, right there. She starts bouncing up and down, her hands flat on your abs, wild and wavy hair swinging from side to side and brushing against your thighs. The thump of her ass on your legs is soft and pleasant, and you start bucking your hips into her, trying to get deeper into her warm honeypot. Jesus, you think. This is incredible. She starts leaning over you, pushing her chest against yours, and she bites your lower lip, her hair tickling your face as she bounces her ass against your groin. Her eyes are open, staring sultrily into yours, before they close, her lashes brushing against your cheek as she begins to passionately kiss you, her nose rubbing against yours, her lips and tongue probing every inch of your mouth. You can feel the boulder, blocking your ecstasy, begin to move, rolling down the metaphorical hill as your dick thickens and the veins pulse. You try to hold on. [[But feel a different pressure.->dp 2]]

You cum. Immediately. Your mouth opens wide, the girl forcing her tongue further in, as she slips a finger into your ass, hitting your prostate, and slamming you into euphoria. You buck your hips wildly as she begins screaming in pleasure, squirting down your shaft and onto your pelvis as she leans back, throwing her hair in a wave to your ankles, and slams herself down, over and over and over again. You see that she has been rubbing her own clit, and seeing you cum, she begins to, her legs becoming jello as she crashes onto you, ass held high in the air, as she smushes her face on yours, biting your lip, giggling through clenched teeth, lazily pounding her pussy onto your dick. You’re still cumming as she worms her finger all up inside you, moaning and breathing into your face, splattering you with her feminine cum. As you both begin to come down, she starts moving her hips in circles as your erection disappears, moaning softly. “Nuuuhh. Guuuuhh.” She licks the finger that was in you, sucking it, and puts her hands on your shoulders, bending up as she turns jiggles her breasts, giggling, tossing her hair back and pulling it over her left shoulder, the waves extending all the way down to pool on your chest. You lean up, your mental faculties returning post-coitus. You’re realizing the strangeness of the situation again, and start to freak out a little, even in the afterglow of what was by far the most amazing sex you’ve ever had. “Wait… who are you? What’s going on” You ask, still pinned underneath her, semi-flaccid penis still tucked away in the girl. She laughs, reaching down to grip your chin, tilting your head up, her breasts swaying like pendulums over your chest. “I’m your sister, silly.” She leans over and kisses you again, and you close your eyes, losing yourself for a moment in her electric mouth. Then, something pokes at the corner of your mouth, and you pull away – but it only pushes in. You open your eyes, and she’s shoving a bottle in your mouth, a matte red bottle with a chili pepper emblazoned on it. Still gripping your face, you can’t move, and a hot liquid starts to pour down your throat, warming it up. The aftertaste hits your tongue - it’s tequila. What? The stream starts to feel good, and your arms – which had been reaching up to throw her off of you – start to fall back down to her hips, until all you can feel is the heat from the bottle, and you suck on it like a mother’s teat, squelching noises coming from the contact between it and your lips. [[You feel odd.->you feel odd 2]] [[Fuck that – she’s tiny. Get her off of you!]]

As you suck, mind fading into your single task, you feel…strange. The booze is coursing through you, feeling it in your toes, your hands, your ass – and your dick? You’re back at full attention, and the girl grabs it behind her, stroking it calmly, still force-feeding you the tequila. Each gulp, each pull, your lips tingle more and more, until you can feel them enveloping the bottle, forming a perfect O around its top. The red-haired woman is pushing the bottle further in, and you can see the edges of your lips accepting more and more, the deepening red pursing around the neck as it slides deeper into your mouth, your tongue caressing the sides, until it’s tickling the back of your throat. You feel soooo good, and you blink a couple of times, an eyelash in your eye, and you notice that they’re extending into your view more and more, thicker, darker – a widescreen bar on your eyes. But you don’t care. All you want to do is drink from this bottle. She moves your hands up to grasp the core of the tequila, and you watch as your smaller, daintier hands grab desperately at it, feeding yourself now, your bright red, inch long nails blending with the bottle’s color. You push it further into your mouth until the whole neck is pushing into you, the liquid coursing straight down your throat – no gagging, no rejection. The girl is next to you now, folded onto her kneeling legs, and begins stroking your hair. You close your eyes, reveling in the sensation, then opening them, as she pulls foot by foot more shimmering red locks past you, spreading them out onto the floor around your head in a fiery halo. She brushes an eyelash off your dainty, cute little nose, and you stare wide-eyed and innocent into her green eyes, suckling at the bottle. She pulls down on your dick, hard, and you spasm, shooting ropes of cum into the air, some landing on your quickly widening hips, some streaking down the sides of your ever-swelling ass which lifts your back up off the floor, chest sticking more and more forward as it begins to tingle. You moan, opening your fat-lipped mouth, the tequila briefly going down your windpipe as the moan changes pitch and feminizes until it’s a sultry “NNNUUuuuhhhh,” and the girl has to close your lips around the bottle as the never-ending stream continues. [[Your chest pushes outwards.->your chest pushes outwards2]]

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

Holding the bottle in your tiny hands, you lick your lips. You’re not sure how to proceed, but know if you don’t, you’ll lose your fucking mind. You sit down on the soft bathmat, and palm your bubble butt as it yields to the floor, marveling at its size. It’s a hell of an ass, and it’s freaking you out that its yours. You splay your legs forward, leaning against the closed door of the bathroom with your back, and pull your incredibly long, bouncy pony tail over your shoulder to drape across your left side. The tickle of hair on your nipple makes you giggle, and you quickly cover your mouth, still embarrassed by the feminine sounds that make up your repertoire now. Holding the bottle in one hand, you gauge whether it will fit inside you. Claire said your body was built for sex – and you got a good amount of fingers in you when you changed – so you decide you can take the thick, long bottle. You run your hands across your lips, not used to their soft fullness, and put your fingers in your mouth, covering them thoroughly with your spit. As you pull them out, some clings to your lips, drawing a bridge as you lower your hand to your pussy, and begin lubing it up. As you brush your clit, you moan – but the need is so great, you don’t silence yourself. You moan louder, throwing yourself into the feeling, “OOOOooooohhhh, Fucccckkkkkk.” You start to move the bottle down, groping your breast with your wet hand, breathing heavily as your breasts rise and fall. Wait. This thing is dry af. You lick your hand again, and try to lube up the bottle. But it’s not really working like you want it to, as if you’re trying to paint on a resistant surface. You don't want to just thrust it into you. You need some way to effectively lube it up. How far are you willing to go? [[Well. You could stick it in your mouth.]] Or, if you think you don’t need this enough, you could get up and start to tackle your change and deal with the gauntlet Claire’s made. But how much do you need this? <<if $need lt 4>> [[Shower. You’re covered in your own cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.->Shower. You’re covered in your own, and Claire’s, cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.]] [[Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<endif>> <<if $need gte 4>>@@color:red;YOU NEED THIS.@@ <<endif>>

You put the bottle in your mouth, your lips pursing around the bottle, fat pink cushions enveloping the end, and you start thrusting it into your face, closing your eyes while rubbing your clit. You’re moaning through the tube, pushing it back and forth, running your tongue across its beveled exterior. The bottle is still warm from the shower, the hot cylinder calling your mind to something. I mean, you’re going to put it inside yourself. It’s a warm, long, hard tube. You can feel your pussy swelling up, puffy and wet, as you imagine sliding a big, long cock into your mouth. You’re not able to avoid the image: you’re too horny, and for some reason, thinking about a cock stuck deep into your throat, your lips rubbing the flesh, your tongue lashing at the tip, makes you feel fuzzy. You giggle as you push it as far as you can, at least nine inches of the foot-long bottle down your throat, the plastic bending slightly as it curves. “Ogh. Chgh. Hgh.” You make choking noises as you pull it out, relishing the idea of cum pouring into your belly, a tiny voice inside of you crying out at the corrupted thoughts that push your masculinity further and further back. You spread your legs further, splaying your feet across the bathroom floor, and push yourself up a little onto your cute butt until you manage to extract your false phallus from your throat with a pop. You lick your lips to remove the excess saliva from your mouth, staring down at your pussy, mixed between stunning levels of arousal, a scarily hot amount of shame that’s just making you wetter, and an absolute need that drives your hand with bottle in tow straight to the hungry maw between your legs. [[You push the bottle in.]]

You slowly slide the smaller end of the shampoo bottle into your vagina, gasping at the slight pain, followed by a shock of pleasure as you power through and fit an inch inside of you. “Huuuuhh,” you moan, writhing in ecstasy, and you grip the bottle with both hands, pushing against your resistant vagina as inch after inch slides into you, each one easier than the last as the pain fades and your mind starts to glaze over with pleasure. You start to pump your makeshift dildo into yourself, gasping and spitting and moaning as you reach a high you’ve never felt before, toes twitching as you rub your clit with one hand and pump with the other. Moving the bottle in a clockwise circle, you test the depth of your vagina, hitting easily eight inches of girthy plastic, and swapping which wall it’s rubbing against until you’re swaying and pumping and breathing like you just ran a marathon. [[Your mouth feels empty.]] <<set $selfcount to $selfcount + 1>>

You need something in your mouth. Your brain is running a circle, the tiny voice pushed out by the plastic invader filling you to the brim, and all you can think is, “cock cock cock.” You’re licking your lips, and mime sucking, but there’s no one there to fill you. Opening your tightly shut eyes, you look around until you find another bottle, slightly thicker than the last. Thank god for conditioner. You pick it up, and stuff it in your mouth, tonguing the hole in the top, and sliding your lips across it until you rapidly deepthroat it, and breathe through your delicate nose. You keep pumping both bottles, imagining them as two thick cocks you’re servicing. You’re so happy. You feel lighter. You want to be filled like this all the time, you want the bottles to explode inside of you, to make you a woman. You’re cresting on something huge, a wave of pleasure crashing against the levies of your brain, flooding into your synapses. You look across the room, catching your reflection in the glass shower door. Oh my god. You see a beautiful woman, plump ass bouncing, large, perky breasts jiggling in all directions as she shoves a grey plastic cylinder into her gaping, soaking pussy, her legs twitching, toes curling. Her eyes are half-closed, glazed with an orgasmic, sultry unfocused stare, batting her long lashes at you, lips spread wide in a thick, pink O around another green bottle half way down her throat, spit dribbling down her chin, her long ponytail of gorgeous brown slapping against her breast as it sways like a curtain in the wind across her chest. She pushes both bottles back and forth, moaning in heat, as she arches her back and her massive chest shudders. She’s looking right at you. Her brown eyes right into yours, fucked out of her brain by her own hands. She’s you. That woman is you. [[The thought pushes you over the edge, and you explode.]]

Your whole world turns white as you cum. Choking on the conditioner, you tilt your head back, throwing your breasts forward as your vagina shoots the bottle out, a dam of womanly juices breaking loose onto the bath mat. You’re a squirter. You pant, your eyes flashing open and then shut as every conceivable thought or action is gone, and all you are is sex, the orgasm pulsing through your body, every inch of skin alight, every nerve ending firing, everything telling you that this is it. The best thing ever. You spit the conditioner out of your mouth with effort, pushing and sliding with your tongue until it drops, bouncing off of your left tit until it’s rolling away. You scream. You moan. You pant like a dog. Minutes, or hours, or even days later as far as you can tell, everything slowly fades away, and you can think again. You giggle, putting you hand up to you mouth, pulling your lips down. “Oh. My. God.” You giggle again. You try to get up, but fall immediately back onto your chest, your legs spasming and twitching beneath you. You laugh, and prop yourself up by your elbows, tits crushed between you and the floor. You put your feet into the air and cross your legs, staring at the bathroom door, licking your lips, basking in the blurry aftermath as you blink over and over again, still scattered. “oh my god.” You repeat. You shake your head, clearing away the thoughts of cock and the need you felt a moment ago. “Gotta keep an eye on whatever that was,” you say aloud, and decide to spend a minute and get your bearings back. Soon, after ten or so minutes, the euphoria is just a nice background feeling, and you get up, struggling with your balance until you can stand, quickly acclimating. Well. That was fun. What now? [[Shower. You’re covered in your own cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.->Shower. You’re covered in your own, and Claire’s, cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.]] [[Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<set $need to $need - 1>> <<set $masturbated to 1>>

“Jake, let’s go home. It’s time to get fucked up.” Wrench gives you the side-eye. “We’re not going out?” Will looks at him with a grin, “Nah, man, $name got a case of 40s. I’ll give you two guesses as to what the plan is now.” Wrench starts beaming, “Oh fuck YES. FORTY HAAAANNNNDDDDS.” Everyone in the car starts chanting “Forty Hands,” and the ride back seems quick. You’re all still nursing a buzz, and you reminisce about the fine duct-tape games you’ve played in the past until Jake is pulling up at your garage. As you slam the door, outside, you and Will grab the crate and quietly shuffle it downstairs – not wanting to wake your mom. Shutting the door to downstairs as Wrench sweeps his hands across the small table, scattering cards and cans, you and your seven followers surround the crate as you set it down with a clunk. You throw open the box, and sixteen beautiful bottles beam up at you. You smile. [[Let’s tape.]]

The tape extends off the roll with a scratching swish. You prep 8 ultra-long strips, and each of you takes to forties, setting them on the table in front of you. Each person takes their strip, and tapes on of their hands, and the person to their left tapes their neighbor’s. You tape your own second hand last. You’re impressed – it doesn’t normally go this smoothly. I guess everyone really, really wants to get fucked up on Old French. You all stand, Putting the bottles into a circle. Jake is smiling – this is the first time you’ve let him drink with you. You laugh on the inside – he’s gonna die. Everyone looks at you, as it’s your birthday, your game. You look around at your friends. Your brothers. You open your mouth, as if you’re going to make a speech, clearing your throat. Then you start chugging the bottle. “ah fuck you,” Wrench yells and tips his back into his mouth. “TO VICTORY,” Dave yells, and starts pouring it into his stomach. Everyone else follows suit. The game is on. [[This beer is good. Like really good.]]

Wow. That’s some good shit. It rolls down your throat like a smooth wave, the liquid sensuously coursing through you, and you feel a heat, in your stomach, in your throat, and in your genitals. Odd. The hoppy but tasty brew makes you feel older and more refined, but you find the bottle back on your lips, already taking another drink – though you don’t remember being ready to do so. The bready, semi-sweet taste of the beer hits you, and you keep chugging. You feel good. Are you already drunk? You look around at your friends. They seem to be having similar reactions – looking at the bottle inquisitively, wondering. You shrug it off. You’re in this to win it. Wrench bends down and smashes his elbow against his phone until intense rap comes on your basement speaker system. Luckily the whole place is so well insulated, no one in your house can hear what happens down here. You all start talking and drinking and laughing until you’re hallway done with your first bottle. At that point, Ozzy Cheers. He’s finished his first. He’s very, very far ahead. Maybe it’s just you, but does he look a little different? His hair, once a curly black mess on top of his head, is smoother, straighter, and is it down to his neck? Was it always like this? His face looks a little better. Fuller lips. Harder cheekbones. You shake your head. What the fuck. You’re drunk already, definitely. You have to catch up. [[You chug your first bottle.]]

Everything starts to get strange. I mean, you’re pretty drunk. Everything’s blurry and your focus is gone, and you watch everyone slowly finish their first and start on their second bottle. You look down at your hands, and can see hairless arms poking out from under your shirt cuffs. “Huh.” Ozzy finishes his second bottle, and flops onto the couch, unconscious. His hair is at least down to his lower back. You look around, and everyone is changing. Chests are swollen. Will – or what was Will – is moaning through fat, succulent lips. A blonde woman, at least 35, with perky tits bursting from her button-up t-shirt is fondling her penis as it shrinks inside of her, empty forties rolling away from her, duct tape still on her hands. The bottle is back at your lips. You’re panicking. You don’t want to drink this. Something is deeply, deeply wrong – but the liquid pours down your throat, filling you with warmth. You can’t control yourself. You see out of the corner of your eye a stunning blonde slumped over on the carpet, heart-shaped as in the air, fingering her puffy, red vagina, moaning like she’s in heat. “NUUUuuuuhh. OOoohhh.” Your head tilted back in a pull as a curtain of hair bounces against your back, deep black bangs brushing in front of your face, your shirt rips in front as your nipples poke out of new holes in the cheap fabric - puffy, inch-long nipples. You hear a scream, and tilt as you drink to see a cute brunette with curly hair down to her ass bend down and rip off her pants, a tiny dick between her legs shrinking into a gap as ropes of cum shoot out across the floor. The rap transitions into a heady, electronic beat, and you begin bouncing, your pants ripping as your ass expands into a fat bubble butt, your thighs thickening, a pressure between your legs as you feel your penis shriveling up. You want to grab it. To protect it. But your hands are quite literally tied as you can’t. Stop. Drinking. You moan into the bottle, the beer pouring down your throat, as you cum into your pants, over and over again. You spin around the room, large breasts swelling out of your chests until they’re at least a perky E cup, and they swing you around, momentum building until you crash onto a chair, breasts crushed under you, your incredibly long black hair falling over your face, draping onto the floor. You, still holding the bottle, brush your silky, sparkling hair out of your face, looking at the orgy forming around you. A smoking-hot Asian bimbo is face-first in the blonde’s groin, her screaming in ecstasy as she wobbles on her partner’s tongue. A Black MILF with breasts easily twice the size of your head and blonde hair down to her knees is face-fucking an amber-haired supermodel-type with what remains of her dick, as the amber-haired girl grabs her tiny waist, choking on the shrinking cock. You’re almost done with your beer, and your fat lips push past the lip of the bottle to take the length into your mouth, deepthroating it. You feel a pressure at your back, and turn to look, flipping your hair over your shoulder in a dark wave, staring at your bubble butt which has emerged from your completely torn pants. The brunette girl, now fully changed, is pulling off the remains of your pants, struggling with your huge ass. Her hair falls in smoothly-curled waves to her waist, bouncing against your wide hips as she manages to remove both your destroyed slacks and stretched underwear. You look pleadingly at her, ogling her DD breasts and her thin waist, her wide hips and perky ass. You look deep into her grass-green eyes, batting your sultry lashes, pushing the bottle further down past your uvula. She gets the hint, a half-smile forming on her lips as she sticks her fingers in her mouth, lubing up the long-nailed, dainty digits. She smacks your ass, hard, leaving a hand mark, and pulls the cheeks apart. Then, she buries her face in your rear, licking at your taint, tracing a line down to your dripping pussy which twitches in the open air. You feel a kiss on your leg. Your upper thigh. Then right next to your pussy, watching the top of her head wiggle behind your butt. You moan, “PPPLLlslslssss.” You feel her breath, hot and wet, on your new vagina. Then, your whole world fades out as her tongue starts punching into you, a finger on your clit playing the piano with your nerves. You scream, finishing the bottle and throwing it aside. Bent over, ass in the air, legs splayed, you gasp and moan, biting your lower lip, running your hands through your perfect hair, over your perfect face, groping your perfect tits. You start humping the chair, and the brunette speeds up, palming both cheeks of your ass with her tiny hands. You shut your eyes tight, enjoying the ride, lost in the euphoria. [[You feel a tickle on your face, and juice drips onto your lips.]] <<set $look to 3>>

Opening your sultry eyes, you come face-to-face with a dripping set of lower lips. Tracing your eyes up the woman’s perfect frame, you stare, wide-eyed, irises glazed over with having your brains fucked out, at a stunning red head who strokes your hair, and pushes her groin towards you. You look at the unfolded flower in front of you, sweet-smelling juice running down her thighs, pendulous breasts swinging above your head. You want her, too. You smash your face into her pussy, and go nuts. As your world begins to go black, the alcoholic content of the night, and the forties catching up with you, you lose yourself in a tangle of bodies, hair and tits swinging left and right, ample butts bouncing, lips kissing. You catch a last sight of the room in a standing mirror against the wall. You see an older, stunning woman – maybe 35 – sitting on top of a redhead’s face, a long-haired Asian pressing her tits into her side and kissing her neck. The woman is staring right at you, dark brown eyes narrowed in ecstasy, fluttering their thick, black, long lashes; full, darkly glossed lips in a fat O as she moans in a rhythmic, accented speech. Her elegant, perfect nose flares as she breathes, bouncing up and down, thrusting onto the redhead. Her hair, down to her ass, is a majestic raven color, waved carefully, flowing across her large, E-cup breasts atop her flat, toned stomach with a dainty waist. That waist extends past wide hips to her thick, jiggly bubble butt thumping as she straddles her bottom partner with thick thighs, toned calves, and tiny, pedicured feet. Her hands grip her breasts, black, inch-long nails squeezing and scratching at her puffy nipples, dark areolas flared. She starts bucking violently, fading a little as your eyes cross, a hurricane of feeling crashing against all your walls, as you cum, watching the little woman spray her juices all over the redhead, screaming “Ooooohhh my GGOODDDD,” with every single bounce of her hips. You hear her voice screaming that. It’s coming from your mouth. Your perfect lips. On your perfect face. You look back at the mirror, watching yourself crest on your orgasm, watching the woman that is you get fucked and fucked and fucked, the Asian sucking your tits, a blonde brushing your hair over your shoulder, a Latina stepping up and putting her fingers in your mouth. You hit a peak in your orgasm, and everything goes white. You’re left with a last image of you. Staring at yourself. As you bend over, taking a couple of fingers up the ass from a big-titted black woman, moaning “guggh” and “nuhhhh”, closing her eyes until you can’t see anymore, the woman you’ve become finally blacking out, the throes of victory pushing you into oblivion. Looks like you managed to beat Edward Forty-hands. [[Wake up.]] <<set $sub to $sub - 4>> <<set $need to $need + 10>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

<<nobr>> <<if $look is 1>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody1.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 0>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody0.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 2>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody2.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 3>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody3.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 4>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody4.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 5>><img src="GDO/claireline/Red_Bimbo_1.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 6>><img src="GDO/claireline/bimbo1.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 7>><img src="GDO/claireline/bimbo2.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 8>><img src="GDO/claireline/bimbo1jc.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 9>><img src="GDO/claireline/bimbo2jc.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 10>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody1jc.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 11>><img src="GDO/claireline/sketchbody1mc.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 12>><img src="GDO/claireline/bimbo1mc.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 13>><img src="GDO/claireline/bimbo2mc.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<if $look is 14>><img src="GDO/claireline/Red_Bimbo_2.png" class="port" width="228" height="719">\<<endif>> <<endnobr>>

You blink, your mind leaving oblivion as light flares into your irises, sunlight flashing you back into the world. You sit up with a start, and immediately fall over, thrown by an unusual weight. Reaching up, you grope your basketball-sized tits, remembering. You grab your hair, pulling it in front of you face, the shimmering red curtain falling to your hips, which you glance towards, pulling silken white sheets away desperately, hoping to no avail, as you stare downwards at your swollen, puffy vagina, somehow lightly lubricated, and a little open, red lips reminding you of your experiences before you awoke. You’re a woman. Looking at the flow of your body, you think, you’re one hell of a woman. You look around the room. You have to see. You can’t understand what’s happening to you, strange feelings coursing through you – arousal. Heat. Need. Confidence. The room is a well-decorated affair. Strong interior design. You’re sitting up in a white, king-size bed on a mahogany frame, an ornate headboard lying underneath a pop-art painting of four peppers with different vibrant color schemes – pink, red, purple, and green. To your left is a large modern window, overlooking an expansive bright-green yard stretching into a wavy lake, with a catamaran bobbing next to a simple wooden pier, tall hedges closing off the view to the sides. There’s a bedside table, a solid cube the same color as the bed frame with no drawers, and a modern lamp over an empty wine glass, red lipstick staining the side. You touch your lips – soft and full. Looking at your fingers, you see that you’re wearing the same shade. A deep, erotic red. You carefully stand up, swinging your toned legs over the side, your red-painted toes falling onto the light-brown wooden floor. There’s a modern dresser, lined with various books – classics, from what you can tell. A small pile of cloth lies next to the bed, and you pick it up. It’s a rather busty set of elegant white lingerie – about your size, you judge, holding up the nearly transparent cups to your breasts, brushing your nipples with the light fabric, and they instantly perk up – you shudder. Careful, you think. A white set of panties falls to the floor, untangled from the top, and you pick them up. Crotchless. Sexy. You don’t want to think about why those are here, and place the pair on the bed, turning back to the room. There’s a standing mirror on the wall opposite the window, and you stumble over to stand in front of it. You open your mouth in shock. You’re looking at an absolute goddess. Your hair falls in waves from the top of your head down to your upper thighs, a luxurious red with shimmering highlights, so long and thick it looks like you could be a hair model. You stroke its length, feeling its body, its softness, and focus on your face next. Deeply sensuous green eyes stare at you, long, thick lashes extending well past the average, dusky shadow on top, a twinkle in the irises. These eyes say, “fuck me”, no matter how you shift them, their curves always teasing. Your nose is small, perfect in structure, a cute feature on a gorgeous face, small freckles scattered around it on your perfect, lightly tanned skin. You trace your hands - dainty, feminine hands with long red nails – down you cheeks, feeling the impeccable structure of your face, looking at your plump, thick lips, the deep red shade making them even more inviting, kissable. You trail down to your breasts – massive, perky spheres, larger than you’ve ever seen, defying gravity. Hard, long nipples extend out of puffy, dark areolas, still erect from brushing the lingerie. They sit above a toned, flat stomach, not muscular, but firm – a thin waist giving you an hourglass shape as it widens out into sexy, wide, swinging hips, and you turn, looking over your small shoulder, brushing your hair to the side to see your massive bubble butt, a voluptuous, slappable ass. You palm it, feeling its firm but jiggly nature, and can’t help but marvel at what a goddamn ass it is, despite freaking out inside at the realization that its yours. Past it, are two thick thighs, a nice gap between them where your hungry pussy sits, and your legs are smooth, toned, and long, ending with tiny feet with red-painted toes. This is you? [[You're a fucking babe.]]

You dream of a goddess of a redhead. Getting fucked. Large cocks in every hole. Sucking, bouncing, throbbing... Her eyes are unfocused, glazed, her brain fried from stimulation. Her ass is bouncing up and down on a prone man, dick buried deep in her gaping pussy. Another man standing above is shoving his tool into her bubble butt, thrusting like a piston. She's holding a cock in her hand, pushing it further into her mouth, sperm leaking from the corner of her massive dick-sucking lips. She's cumming through the hole thing, moans never ending, breasts swinging beneath her, full to the brim. She's you. [[Wake up on white sheets.]]

Oh, no. You start to breathe faster and faster. You move a hand. She moves a hand. You touch your breast. She touches her breast. You’re hyperventilating, the connection between sight and mind not firing properly, the bridge between reality, where you’re a perfect 10 of a woman, and your mind, where you’re an 18-year-old man, doesn’t cross. You feel tears in your eyes, and watch the redhead in the mirror begin to weep, all the emotions battering against you overwhelming you, overtaking you, as you close your eyes, sinking to the floor, crying your eyes out. [[You continue to cry. This is too difficult to deal with.]] [[Get up. This is no time for crying.]] [[You feel...hot.]]

You can’t stop crying, tears wracking your body. You shudder as you hug your waist, breasts spilling over the tops of your arms, compounding your feelings of mental exhaustion. You’re so confused, so sad, so helpless. What do you do now, you ask yourself. You’ve lost your penis – the body part dearest to you. You’re so…hot. It’s confusing. Arousing. Scary. You can’t help but think of sex, all forms of sex, with all forms of people – and that deeply, deeply shakes you, your heterosexuality, your perceptions of yourself – all thrown up in the air. You’ve lost your face, your self-awareness, your body… Why? How? You sob, watching the blurry woman in the mirror jiggle with your motions. WHO IS THIS WOMAN? WHY ARE YOU HER? You think and think and think until you’re just spinning on a mental merry-go-round, a cycle propelling you further and further into despair. You’re stuck. Amid your sobs, you hear a slam from somewhere below this room. You open your eyes as wide as possible, a cute look of instant surprise on your perfectly-contoured face. You’re not alone. [[Hide. You’ve gotta hide.]] [[Hold absolutely still.]] <<set $cried to 1>> <<set $sub to $sub + 3>>

You push the feelings, the abstract thoughts, away, focusing on your situation. You’re in a strange body, in a strange place, with no idea how or why you’re here, in this very, very naked state. Pulling your new drapes of hair behind your head and out of your face, you steel yourself. There’s no point falling to pieces now – you’ll never find out what’s going on. You’re just going to have to deal with what’s happening now, in the moment, and take the facts as they are. Moments ago, in your perspective, you turned 18. Now, you’re the perfect form of femininity. Time to Scooby-Doo this shit. You turn to start puzzling out your predicament, when you hear a slam from somewhere below this room. You open your eyes as wide as possible, a cute look of instant surprise on your perfectly-contoured face. Hmm. Maybe you should investigate. Or maybe you should hide. [[Hide. You’ve gotta hide.]] [[Head out of the room.]] [[Hold absolutely still.]] [[Find some clothes, first.]] <<set $resolute to 1>> <<set $sub to $sub - 3>>

You can feel a heat building up inside you – starting from the core of your stomach, spreading, tendrils buzzing in your arms, at your fingertips, at your face. The tears start to subside as the feeling that captured you before you woke up here starts to return, and you moan, scared but aroused, as the heat reaches your breasts, spreading into your clit. Being so helpless, so confused, so innocent is turning you on. You reach down to your pussy, finding it wet, and start rubbing yourself, unable to help it, your painted nails slipping inside the inviting hole with a slurping sound. You’re already two fingers in, a thumb traveling in circles around your buzzer, as you start pleasuring yourself. One of your hands, moving on its own, makes its way to your plush, fuckable ass, and finds its way into your puckered asshole. You start to cry again – why are you doing this? But seeing yourself completely at the mercy of your own hornieness in the mirror across from you, eyes narrowed in enjoyment, mouth open wide as cute and sensual sounds escape your fat lips, pounding your own vagina and asshole with thin fingers, only spirals you further and further into the cycle of submissive stimulation. Closing your eyes as you start to cum, something cuts you off. Amid your sobs, you hear a slam from somewhere below this room. You open your eyes as wide as possible, a cute look of instant surprise on your perfectly-contoured face, your thumb still doing its rounds on your clit. You’re not alone. [[Hide. You’ve gotta hide.]] [[You’re too far in. Keep going.]] [[Hold absolutely still.]] <<set $jerkedoff to 1>> <<set $sub to $sub + 3>> <<set $need to $need + 3>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

It’s too much. Far too much to stop. You’re so close. Whatever the noise is, it can wait. You need to cum. You slip your fingers back into your gushing lower lips, pushing them further in until you gasp. “UUUNnngnhh.” That’s new. You’ve found a spot in yourself that’s perfect. It’s your everything. You push on it, speeding up your continual clockwise rotation on your swollen clit. You moan, over and over again, as you reach the edge of an orgasm, whispering, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” in between uncontrolled noises and gasps. You fall over onto your breasts, ass high in the air, as you buck your hips, putting your left hand back in your pucker, chasing the best possible feeling. You stifle a scream as you crest. It’s right there. You prepare to fall down the waterfall. “Oh. Is this for me?” You hear a voice – a man’s voice – from your left. You look over, still pumping into yourself, eyes barely focused, brain barely functioning, the pleasure so great, the feeling so intense. There’s a man, standing in the doorway, a tall man with dark hair and a black suit. You stare into his eyes, deep black, admiring the chiseled nature of his features. He’s well built, and you can see a bulge in his dark pants grow as he looks at you, lying on the ground, moaning still. Your brain is in a haze. All you can see now is his cock, hiding in his pants, hiding from you. Is this for him, you wonder? Are you his? How big is his dick? How will it feel? You’re overcome with want, with a need to feel him in your pillowy lips, a need to have something fill you up, to be taken. You stab at your spot further. Can you stop this – or are you going to give into the carnal need that courses through you? [[You nod your head at the man, mouth open. You want him to fuck you.]] <<if $need gte 6>>@@color:red;YOU NEED THIS.@@ <<endif>> <<if $need lt 6>>[[You stop fingering yourself, reining in your lust.]] <<endif>> <<set $need to $need + 3>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

You're very naked - and think that in this situation, your nakedness might be a disadvantage, especially since you can barely walk with your new proportions. You look around the room, for anything that might cover you. There’s the lingerie. A sheet. You see a door, blended in, to the wall – it must be a closet. Walking over, you find a sparse set of clothes, mostly men’s shirts and suits. Back in the main room, you stumble over to the dresser, your breasts swinging. In it, you find nothing but men’s clothes, socks and boxers and sweats. You start to worry. This is clearly a man’s room – and it’s certainly not yours. Moving back to the bed, you grab the lingerie, at least hoping to be covered in the bare minimum. Sliding the panties up your legs, you marvel at how soft and nice they feel, getting a little wet as they rub against your pussy, a tiny gasp escaping your painted lips. The bra takes a little struggling, you falling onto the bed, your ass jiggling, but you manage to click the clasp in the back shut. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, unconsciously adjusting your hair to fall on the white cups of the bra, the contrast making you look defined and shaped. It’s a pretty sexy set of underwear, you think, doing a little spin, and you feel a twinge in your vagina looking at yourself. You quickly look away, cheeks flushing red, as you resist the temptation to fall back into your own appearance. There’s one more door that’s not the exit to the hallway. It appears to lead to the bathroom. [[Maybe there’s some clothes in there.]] [[Nah. The Lingerie will do just fine, for now.]] <<set $look to 14>>

He smiles, a beamingly white grin, and walks over to where you’re fingering yourself on the floor, undoing his belt. You crawl forward, removing your hand from your pussy, licking your lips in anticipation, your mind blank other than a desperate need. The closer the gets, the larger he seems, and you feel small as he removes his bel entirely, throwing it to the other side of the room, slipping off his suit jacket. He’s standing over you, so tall – so big. You grab his legs, pulling yourself up his pants, your tits pressing against him, and you shake your head, letting your hair flow behind you, draping onto the plump ass resting on your feet. You’re kneeling now, and you scramble for his zipper. You need it out. You need it out of his pants, and in you. A large hand is gripping the side of your head, running its fingers through your soft hair, and you moan, the contact firing all the neurons in your brain. You pull at his boxers, a silken grey pair, tugging them down, and a massive, erect penis flops onto your spread lips, you greedily licking its length, marveling at its size. It’s so big. So firm. So…suckable. As a tiny voice telling you to stop fades, dying underneath the heat in your honeypot, you take him into your mouth, licking around the head as the pink top slides between your wet, fat lips. You’re puckered in an O, and you moan around the cock as you slide it further into you, the thing throbbing, and you can feel every vein, hot in your mouth. You begin to bob your head, feeling his hand tighten on your locks, and you look up as it pushes further down your throat, your eyes wide and blank as you watch him looking down at you, his dark eyes enthralled in your beauty. With your left hand, you grip at the base, and start stroking it, pushing your mouth down and down his shaft until you’re at least six inches in, with a few left to go. Sliding your head around, using your tongue to lick at the shaft, you fondle his balls. This cock is your everything. [[Finger yourself.->finger2]] <<set $sub to $sub + 3>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

Your nipples are standing at attention, and Red rips off the shirt that was barely still on you, and tweaks them, pulling them out. As your pecs turn into bulging spheres, she shapes them like clay, and you squeal, your breathing through your nose increasing, chest bouncing as you grow two massive, perky tits, F-cups at least. As she pumps cum out of your dick, it starts to feel different – smaller, and the sensation – stronger. Your devilish temptress has pulled an ocean of hair out of your head, the red locks extending as far as you can see around you, and you release the bottle with one hand to feel the tresses – running your palm and fingers across the waves, soft and full. You smell cinnamon, and realize it’s you, the thought only increasing the sexual euphoria hitting you as your penis shrinks into the rapidly widening hole which has swallowed your balls. As the last of the tip shoots out its last drop of cum, it settles into the top of your cleft, and your new twin begins to rub it furiously. [[Your eyes cross.->Your eyes cross two]] <<set $look to 5>>

The bottle is empty now, and you release it, it clanking on the floor as it rolls away, and you cup your massive breasts in your tiny hands, the flesh overflowing as you knead and press, as you rub and jiggle. Your twin has slipped a finger into your new equipment, and is finger-fucking you into oblivion, every thought disappearing from your head besides “More.” She kisses your tequila-stained, slippery lips, her mouth on yours better than it was before, tongues lashing, plump lips pushing at each other. You’re rubbing circles across your nipples as they stand you up, your now thick and feminine thighs barely keeping you upright with your tits and huge, heart-shaped ass throwing you off balance. Red holds you by your tiny waist with one dainty hand, behind you now, kissing you as you turn your head over your shoulder to her, and she keeps pumping away, fitting two more fingers in your needy hole. You’re moaning as you make out with your slightly less-endowed twin, your hair brushing against the backs of your knees, swaying as you sway, moving your wide hips in circles matching the pattern of Red’s playful rubbing. She starts groping your ass, parting the curtains of your hair to squeeze the supple skin, and she goes all in – she starts finger fucking you in your other hole as well, parting your O-ring with her thumb, lubing up her fingers in her own pussy. You’ve got three in your new, sopping vagina, and two in your ass, and you start to scream. The feelings are too much – you can’t handle this. A tidal wave is cresting in your mind as you stand on your toes, heels in the air, curling your toes into balls. [[The wave crashes down.->crash2]]

You look at the beautiful girl behind you, mirror image of yourself – albeit with less generous proportions - and see yourself in her. You are her sister. Her twin. You gasp. You moan. It builds. “Nuuuhh. Guuuhh. Oohh my goooodd. OOOHHH MMMYY GOODDD.” And the wave hits, crashing against the shores of your mind, and you black out, vagina gushing liquid down your thighs, mouth screaming from plump lips, dusky eyes shut tight as every nerve, every fiber of your being explodes and you cum. Hard. She lets you down slowly as everything fades to white, and you drift into the warm heat that’s permeated the core of your soul. [[You dream.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 2>> <<set $need to $need + 8>> <<set $sub to $sub + 9>>

You push your pointer back into yourself, shutting your eyes. Your entire world is your pussy, and his cock, as you suck, tongue, and push on the meat, impaling yourself on his dick. You feel him grab both sides of your head, and pull you down, and you gag slightly, looking up into his eyes as he begins to fuck your face like a public gloryhole. “Ogh. Chegh. Hgh. Gghhhh. MMMmmmm.” You’re deepthroating him now, the flesh bending down your throat, breathing heavily through your nose as you rub your clit furiously, starting to cum again. He thrusts deeper, bouncing your head against his pelvis, your hair flying, held in his strong hands as he takes you, making you his tool. You start to cum. Your eyes roll up into your head, fireworks sparking in your mind, your vagina gushing around your fingers. He laughs, still fucking your lovely pillows, before pulling out of your mouth, a long extrication, pre-cum bridging off of your lips, you moaning like a bitch in heat, grabbing at his cock as he takes it away from you, your long nails scratching the skin. Why would he leave you like this? You look up, and his shirt is off, bulging abs and pecs making the you twitch as your orgasm ramps up, not a shred of male heterosexuality left as you run your hands over his abs. He bends down, gripping your wide hips, picking you up as if you were a light sack of flour, and throws you face down onto the bed. You whip your hair around, looking over your shoulder at the large man, and stick your fat ass up in the air, parting your lips, pre on your chin, wiggling your cheeks. You moan in need. “Plllleeeaaaasse.” You feel a pair of strong hands palm your rear. You steel yourself, a fucked-out smile already on your lips. Then, you feel a pressure on your pussy, and you tighten its muscles, waiting, the heat driving you mad. He enters you. You gasp. Your world explodes. [[You start really, really getting fucked.]]

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

It's a feeling you've never had before. It's a feeling you never knew you wanted before. A hard, warm gift. Pulsing inside you. Your new muscles clenching and spasming as he rocks into you, your ass quaking, grasping at his cock, your everything, as it slides with little resistance to the back of your new tunnel. There isn’t a thought left in your head other than the agonizingly pleasurable thump as he hits your back wall over and over and over again, your moans punctuating each pump with a slutty note. As he ravages your back, you pull your hair over your shoulder, stroking it as you rock back and forth. You stare with glassy eyes near tears with ecstasy at the wineglass with your lipstick smeared on the edge. Breaching the emptyness of your fucked mind, you wonder if any lipstick was left to smear on his cock when you tried to swallow it. You lick your lips, a particularly hard thrust emitting a cry of delight and minor, appreciated pain, banishing your brain’s effort once again. You feel him grab above your hips, pulling you in until you feel your cheeks pressing hard against his muscular pelvis. You’re hilted, and it feels incredible. He doesn’t start thrusting again, and you look back, your sultry, needy eyes beaming into his, a look of power on his face as you moan in heat. The tip of his cock is pressed firmly into that spot in your vagina that’s now driving you insane. Is that what a g-spot is? You don’t know. Until a moment ago, you were an eighteen year-old kid. Whatever it is, it’s making you feel anxious and hot and good and warm and uncomfortable and lovely. You can’t handle the pleasure. You start to squirm, and he holds you steady. As you get more aggressive in your twists and turns, pulling at the bed sheets, whipping your hair back and forth as you fall onto your massive tits, nipples sliding on the soft silk, he laughs, enjoying your struggle. You laugh and scream and moan as you’re hilted. [[You’re not getting away that easily.]]

You step out of the shower, and carefully pad-dry your skin. You wrap a soft, yellow towel from under the sink around yourself, unconsciously covering your new, large assets, and step to the mirror, wiping it off with a small hand. You purse your lips, staring at the gorgeous woman in the mirror, the reflection becoming more and more familiar – which worries you. You grab the blow drier from the rack, and start drying your hair, making sure to keep the drier at the proper distance and temperature – the knowledge just intrinsic. After it’s dry, you grab the curling iron, your body on auto, and put small waves into your hair. Realizing what you’ve done after the fact, you groan, and drop the iron. But you’re not done, and your hands are already moving. Opening your sister’s drawer, you’ve already grasped her makeup kit, and twenty minutes blurs by in a confusing array of techniques as you paint your face. Fading back in, you look at yourself – and the effects of the makeup have only amplified your goddess-level beauty. You’re starting to get aroused again. You’re just so fucking hot. AGH. Pulling yourself away from the mirror with some difficulty, you decide it’s time to get out of the bathroom. [[Look for some clothes in Justine’s room. It’ll probably be sexy.]] [[Look for some clothes in your Mom’s room – it might be more conservative.]] [[Find your phone. You don’t know what she did to your friends – you should text them.]] <<set $showered to 1>>

No. No falling down that road. Not yet. You sigh. This is already getting out of control. The excitement from before quickly fading, looking down at your body, you see your covered in your sweat and cum from the transormation - long nails sparkling under the juice that's on them. You look at the shower, and decide to use it – you smell like sex. The smell is actually making you dizzy, and you giggle as you trip on your way into the stall, stabilizing yourself with a thin, delicate arm. Taking the band out of your hair, you shake it lose, flipping it effortlessly behind you as you jut out a hip. You're hoping that whatever changes happened in your mind as well as your body will know how to wash yourself, because you've never washed a vagina before. You turn the shower up, hot, and step inside. The water feels amazing on your skin, and you run your hands over it, marveling at the softness. Luckily, it seems you do know how to manage your body, and you soap up your breasts and thin waist expertly, and wash out your recently-used hole. Grabbing the shampoo and conditioner, you wet your hair, and begin the process of washing it. Which takes 10 minutes, the length and body making what was once a minute-long procedure a complicated, skillful task. You don't find yourself minding, though, and as you run your hands down your hair, you find it calming. Serene. You giggle again, frustrated at how easily and sexily the sound leaves your gorgeous lips. "Shut up, $name," you say to yourself. Then, the process is complete. [[You rinse yourself off, and step out of the shower.]] <<set $nosex to 1>>

Your brother. Oh fuck, she included your brother. You run out of the bathroom, yelling in your high-pitched, feminine voice, not caring if he sees you like this. "JAKE! JAKE?" Running isn't easy with your new proportions, and as you hurdle down the hall to Jakes's room, your hair whips around, your breasts heave, and your ass quakes. You are very aware of how much you've changed at this moment, and alongside your worries, that awareness compounds into emotional tears that start to flow down your cheeks. [[You reach his door.]]

The door is ajar – and you push it open, lower lip trembling. “Jake?” As you enter, you look around. He’s not there. There’s no sign he had been back since last night – his bed is made, there’s no sign of his clothes from yesterday – he’s gone. Your brother is gone. You hold yourself tight. Fuck. The tears are running down your cheeks faster now, and your worries are only ruminating, building and building and building… You can’t stop crying, tears wracking your body. You shudder as you hug your waist, breasts spilling over the tops of your arms, compounding your feelings of mental exhaustion. You’re so confused, so sad, so helpless. What do you do now, you ask yourself. You’ve lost your penis – the body part dearest to you. You’re so…hot. It’s confusing. Arousing. Scary. You can’t help but think of sex, all forms of sex, with all forms of people – and that deeply, deeply shakes you, your heterosexuality, your perceptions of yourself – all thrown up in the air. You’ve lost your face, your self-awareness, your body, and now your brother. Why? How? You sob, looking at yourself in your brother’s full body mirror. WHO IS THIS WOMAN? WHY ARE YOU HER? WHERE IS JAKE AND WHAT DID CLAIRE DO TO HIM? You think and think and think until you’re just spinning on a mental merry-go-round, a cycle propelling you further and further into despair. You’re stuck. No. Not now. [[Find your fucking phone. There is no time for this.]]

You steel yourself. Just because you have tits and a body that could kill most men is no reason to lose your shit. Jesus. Adapt. You need your phone. Now. First, Claire will be contacting you through it. Second, you’ve got –most likely – seven missing persons to find, and help, because if this is what she did to you – god knows what she did to them. You walk, acclimating to the new sway of your voluptuous hips, and the weight of your breasts, to your room – using the short journey as a learning experience for the new way you move. And, fuck, the new you sure moves in interesting ways. You imagine walking behind yourself, staring at your own ass, as it bobbles left and right, your hair swinging with it, bouncing against your back. You are very confused by your attraction to your own body. It’s baffling. But you can’t help but be turned on. Pushing yet another batch of horny thoughts aside, you re-enter your room. Your phone is sitting on your bedside table. You sit on the edge of your bed, crossing one lengthy leg over the other. Picking up your phone, you see no notifications. Nothing. You check your texts. Nope. Email. No. Insta DM’s. Not a thing. So it’s on you to find out what’s going on. You send a text to each of your friends. Biting your lower lip in thought, you decide that the text should be vague – just in case. It ends up – after a good twenty minutes of thought – being “Hey Friend’s name! What happened to you guys last night? I’ve had a pretty weird morning pls text me back as soon as possible – I’m not fucking around rn.” You draft a separate text to your brother. “Jake. Call me immediately. Like, as soon as you read this fucking text. Not joking” You sit for a moment. Waiting. Looking for those three dots to signify it’s been seen. Looking for a read receipt or a text. But nothing comes. Five minutes pass. You put your phone on max volume, and decide what to do next. <<if $showered is 0>> Looking down at yourself, you notice something. You’re still covered in dried fem-cum. You sigh, a feminine twinkle in the breath. [[Shower. You’re covered in cum. Your fingers are fucking wrinkled.->Shower 3]] <<endif>> <<if $clothes is 0 and $showered is 1>> Looking down at yourself, you realize you're still profoundly naked. You resolve to find some clothes - walking around like this would probably not help the whole sex-suggestible thing. [[Look for some clothes in Justine’s room. It’ll probably be sexy.]] [[Look for some clothes in your Mom’s room – it might be more conservative.]] <<endif>> <<if $clothes gt 0 and $showered is 1>> There's no reason to be up here anymore. You're clean. You're clothed. You're cute. What? [[You go downstairs.]] <<endif>> <<set $hasphone to 1>>

You walk back to the bathroom, holding your phone hopefully, and re-enter the steamy room. The excitement and feelings from before quickly fading, looking down at your fingers, you see your long nails sparkling under the cum that's on them. Before you can stop yourself, you've put your digits between your fat lips, sucking the sweet juice off of them. Quickly, you withdraw your hand. "What am I doing," you murmur out loud in your new voice, and take a look at the shower. Looking down at your pinup body, you see rivulets of cum and sweat running down your legs, and realize you need to shower again - you smell like potent sex. The smell is actually making you dizzy, and you giggle as you trip on your way into the stall, stabilizing yourself with a thin, delicate arm. Taking the band out of your hair, you shake it lose, flipping it effortlessly behind you as you jut out a hip. You're hoping that whatever changes happened in your mind as well as your body will know how to wash yourself, because you've never washed a vagina before. You turn the shower up, hot, and step inside. The water feels amazing on your skin, and you run your hands over it, marveling at the softness. Luckily, it seems you do know how to manage your body, and you soap up your breasts and thin waist expertly, and wash out your recently-used hole. Grabbing the shampoo and conditioner, you wet your hair, and begin the process of washing it. Which takes 10 minutes, the length and body making what was once a minute-long procedure a complicated, skillful task. You don't find yourself minding, though, and as you run your hands down your hair, you find it calming. Serene. You giggle again, frustrated at how easily and sexily the sound leaves your gorgeous lips. "Shut up, $name," you say to yourself. Then, the process is complete. [[You rinse yourself off, and step out of the shower->step out 2]]

You walk back downstairs, your shoes clicking against the wooden steps. You feel sexy, with one manicured hand on the banister, the other balanced on your hip. As you reach the bottom stair, you realize you have no idea what to do. You've taken care of your basic hygeine. You've gotten clothes - odd as they might feel. You have your phone, and are awaiting any response or message from the parties now wrapped around your life like poison ivy. You sit in your kitchen. Poised on the island's stool carefully. It seems everything you do now has a grace to it. You hold your phone, nails clacking against it, as you check your facebook. It's full of birthday messages. Friends. Aunts. Uncles. Family of all sort. Everyone wishing you the best. Line after line of "congratulations!", and "you did it!". You scroll down, and find your grandfather's posting. "HEy $name! I'm not a fan of bookface or any of these social medias, but it's your eighteenth birthday, and today you become a man. I love you very much. Grandpa." You shake your head. No. No, no, no no no. Tears are welling at the corner of your eyes, and you wipe them away carefully as not to damage your mascara. Not a man today, pops. Something else entirely. Your eyes are drawn down to your body, poking out from clothes that don't fit right - since there are no real women like you. Your breasts heave as you begin to breathe more heavily. Your legs are crossed, silken to the touch, dangling above the floor by a foot since you've shrunk. Your hair is pulled over your left shoulder, and rests carefully on your breast. You aren't a man. You're a woman. Distracted by your melancholy mood, you jump as your phone buzzes in your hand, the vibration tingling as you clench the phone as hard as you can in surprise. "Oh, fuck. Please, please!" You pray it's your brother, telling you that everything is fine. But it's not. [[The message is from Claire.]]

You hesitate. If you read it, what's gonna happen. Maybe you should just throw your phone away. In, like, the ocean. The Indian Ocean. Then, though, you'd be stuck like this. A tiny voice in your head thinks, "Mmmm. Would that be so bad?" and you push it away. You take a couple of breaths, deep breaths, getting distracted by your boobs moving again until you yell in frustration. "Fine. Fine. I'll read your text, YOU PSYCHOTIC WITCH!" You swipe on the text, and enter your password. It rolls up, and holding your breath, you read it. "Heeeeyyy $name!!! By now I'm hoping you've settled down a ltl, and maybe acclimated to your new...situation a little?" You watch as the three dots pulse, and another text arrives. "So it's day one! Ah! You're going to have so much fun - I hope ;)" "Today ur going to go to work! Workin' lady. I hope you're ready to pour some shots, cause you're my shotgirl for the night." Shot girl? What the fuck is a shot girl? "So at about 7 I expect you to be at my house, alright? Clean and stuff. So stay out of trouble!" "....But you're gonna have to leave the house. You've got a day job too. I mean, this economy right?" "Head to 1237 Adams Boulevard. Ask for maggie, and tell her it's your first day! Ah! I'm so excited for you! GL ;)" You have no idea where that is. Fuck. You're a little worried - this is clearly some sort of trap. You consider your options. [[Get an Uber to Adams. Probably not best to fight it.]] [[No. Fuck Claire. You're not doing this shit.]] [[Ask for more details.]]

You don't want to fuck with Claire. She's already done...all this.... to you, god knows what more she has under the belt. Mmmmm. Under Claire's belt. You pinch yourself. Jesus! You get down from the stool, and walk to the front door, checking yourself in the mirror to make sure everything is perfect. It is. You open your phone, and call for an Uber - Adams isn't that far away, luckily, and it'll be a cheap ride. You stand for a second, waiting for a driver, until one picks your ride. David - and he'll be here in five minutes. You realize this will be your first interaction with a man. As a woman. This thought fills you with fear. [[The Uber arrives.]] <<set $sub to $sub + 2>>

You shoot Claire a response. "Hey claire I got all that but I'm not gonna play this fucking game. This is juvenile and sad and you should move past your bullshit. I'm not a fucking post you can pin all your shit too" A minute passes, and you hold your phone in anticipation, still clutching it like it's a dead-man's switch. You see the three dots bounce. Then dissapear. Another minute passes. They reappear. Bing! "That's not how this works $name. You don't get to say no." "You don't get the security of knowing what you're heading towards." "And the audacity to think you could deny me? That's earned you a punishment." You gasp as immediatly after reading the word "punishment", your clit pulses, and your vagina spasms. @@color:deeppink;"UNNggghhh,"@@ you moan as all the air pushes out of your chest, and you topple to the floor from your perch on the stool. You convulse. Each spasm sending lightning through your brain, and you watch as a wet spot appears on your skirt, and touch it, feeling the warmth. You can't think. Can't breathe. You start to panic in your ecstacy. You feel strange - you put a hand to your lips, gasping for air, and feel them inflate even larger than before. Looking at the hair splayed around you, you watch as blonde streaks flow throughout it. You pant as your breasts grow another cup size, straining the limits of your top, and feel your body lift into the air as your ass stretches, and listen to your skirt crinkle as it nearly tears. @@color:deeppink;"OH MYYYYY GOOOOOODddd!!"@@ And then as quickly as it started, it ends. You feel cheated. You want more. More changes. More feelings. You hate that you want more. As you stand, brushing off your shirt and arranging your newly-highlighted hair, you look at your phone. There's a text from Claire. [["Do what I fucking tell you to do and shut the fuck up."->"No questions. Do what I fucking tell you to do and shut the fuck up."]] <<set $need to $need + 5>> <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>> <<set $sub to $sub + 3>> <<set $bimbo to 1>> <<if $clothes is 1>> <<set $look to 8>> <<endif>> <<if $clothes is 2>> <<set $look to 12>> <<endif>>

You shoot Claire a response. "Hey claire I got all that but I've got some questions. What's a shot girl and what's at Adams" A minute passes, and you hold your phone in anticipation, still clutching it like it's a dead-man's switch. You see the three dots bounce. Then dissapear. Another minute passes. They reappear. Bing! "That's not how this works $name" "You don't get the security of knowing what you're heading towards." "And the audacity to think you could ask? That's earned you a slight punishment." You gasp as immediatly after reading the word "punishment", your clit pulses, and your vagina spasms. "UNNggghhh," you moan as all the air pushes out of your chest, and you topple to the floor from your perch on the stool. You convulse. Each spasm sending lightning through your brain, and you watch as a wet spot appears on your skirt, and touch it, feeling the warmth. You can't think. Can't breathe. You start to panic in your ecstacy. And then as quickly as it started, it ends. You feel cheated. You want more. You hate that you want more. As you stand, brushing off your shirt and arranging your hair, you look at your phone. There's a text from Claire. [["No questions. Do what I fucking tell you to do and shut the fuck up."]] <<set $need to $need + 4>>

You don't want to fuck with Claire anymore. She's already done...all this.... to you, god knows what more she has under the belt. Mmmmm. Under Claire's belt. You pinch yourself. Jesus! You push in the kitchen stool, and walk to the front door, checking yourself in the mirror to make sure everything is perfect. Fixing a few stray hairs and wiping a smudge off your face, you correct any damage the "punishment" might've done. You open your phone, and call for an Uber - Adams isn't that far away, luckily, and it'll be a cheap ride. You stand for a second, waiting for a driver, until one picks your ride. David - and he'll be here in five minutes. You realize this will be your first interaction with a man. As a woman. This thought fills you with fear. And arousal. [[The Uber arrives.]]

A black lexus pulls up in front of your house, and you open the door to leave. Crossing the driveway quickly but carefully, you can feel the driver's eyes on you. You walk up to the back door behind him, and pull it open. "Hey! David?" "That's me, miss. Sure you wouldn't prefer to sit up here?" You smile, uncomfortably, and say, "No, that's fine, I'm not going very far." You wiggle your pert ass into the car, and sit quietly as David pulls away, careful as always to make sure you're perfectly presented. "So what's a beautiful woman like you doing today on Adams Boulevard? Going shopping? Heading to the spa?" You cringe at his attempt at hitting on you - but oddly, you also blush, and you unconciously tighten your crossed legs. "Heh. Nope, just meeting up with a friend," you try to say curtly - but it comes off as charming. "Oh! Boyfriend? Suitor?" You wiggle nervously in your seat. This guy is kinda creepy. You lean over to look in the rearview mirror to get a look at him, saying "Nope! Just one of my...girlfriends!" You let out a nervous chuckle, but it comes out a flirtatious laugh. Son of a bitch. [[You look into the mirror.]]

That's...odd. You feel weird. Staring into the stunningly blue eyes, staring at you, in the rearview mirror. You don't like what you're feeling. Is that? Is that fucking attraction? You gulp, and tear your eyes away. But you can't keep them focused on the street, out the window, for long, and you look at the side view mirror in front of you from behind the seat. David is a pretty giant dude. Like, all muscly and stuff. You can't stop staring at the bicep in the mirror that's controlling the large, strong hand that grips the wheel. You wonder how strong he is. What's his bench. Could he lift you up? You toss your head around, trying to shake the wanton thoughts away from your mind. Fixing your hair, he looks back at you in the mirror. "You good?" You flush. "Oh, yeah, heh just fixing my hair! Lot of it to keep track of," you reply, twirling a strand of your brunette locks around a finger. "I like woman with long hair. It's classy," he retorts, and winks at you. You feel heat spreading throughout your nether regions. This is not going well. This isn't even good flirting. The tiny voice in your head, though, has other ideas. Who needs good flirting, it thinks, when you've got pecs like those. Your eyes drift back to side mirror, and you run your tongue over your voluptous lips while staring at the bulging meat only a few feet away. Fuck. You want this random driver. This is confusing. And that confusion is only making you hornier. You let out a soft moan as you gush into your panties. "You sure you're alright?" David turns in his seat, putting a hand on the back of the passenger seat, looking back at you, his eyes peircing right into yours, and you bat your eyelashes involutarily. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good." What the fuck is wrong with you? [[Sit in silence.]]

You try to reign in your lust for the remainder of the drive. It's not a long drive. Barely 15 minutes. You look out the window, watching businesses flash by. A GNC flys by, posters of shredded athletes in the windows. A J Crew store. An ad for Hanes underwear. You reach down to check yourself, and feel a slightly damp seat underneath you. You can't stop thinking about the driver. You want to know what his body's like. What's underneath his shirt. What's underneath his pants. You want to be filled up, made whole. The car goes over a speed bump, and you let out a loud, girly scream as the motion makes you twinge. David yells, "Fuck!" and pulls over the car. "Miss! Are you hurt?" He's turned back around again, and you can see the bulge of his shoulders straining, veins in his arms popping. You want to be trapped beneath them. You don't want to be trapped beneath them. Agh! What are you going to do? [[Touch his arm, softly, and pull him into the back with you.]] <<if $need gte 5>>@@color:red;YOU NEED THIS.@@ <<endif>> <<if $need lt 5>> [["Oh! I'm so sorry", you say, ashamed. "I wasn't expecting the bump."]] <<endif>>

"Mhm," You murmur. "Maybe you should come take a look? Make me better?" You brush your hand up his arm, and under his chin, pulling it towards you, giving him the best fuck-me eyes you can. Which, as it turns out, is pretty good. "I got a little wet." You giggle. What is this shit coming out of your mouth, the last vestiges of your old mind wonder, before they're temporarily silenced by abject need. David's eyes widen, and he doesn't waste any time. The giant man quickly moves into the back seat, and is already taking off your shirt before he's even all the way there. You laugh, and help him take it off, your breasts bouncing free as you squeeze them together with your tiny hands, your hair trailing down your back as you lean forward, pushing your breasts into his hands. He starts massaging your nipples, and you moan, "NGghh," eyes open wide as you revel in the pleasure. "Sensitive one, huh," he says, before he wraps his arm around your back, and pulls you onto his lap, you giggling and smiling as you straddle him. You lean forward, brushing your hair behind your ears, and rub your nose on his, before he goes for a deep, intimate kiss, and your tongues dance on one another. Before you know it, your hands are ripping at his pants, your breath hotly flowing onto his face, as you look into his eyes. You're so wet you know that if this cock isn't in you soon, you're going to die. You moan as you struggle with the buckle, and look pleadingly at him, bouncing up and down on the thick erection you can feel beneath you. "Pleeease," You cry, and he smiles, and throws you to the side as he unfastens his pants. You stick your ass up in the air, the bountiful butt jiggling as you twerk it, looking over your shoulder with a seductive, begging look. [["Fuck me."]]

David nods, a little confused. "Alright. Sorry about that, I'll take the next one a little more slowly." He turns back around, and pulls back into the road. You bite your lip the rest of the way, and try to think about anything other than David's cock - which you know you could have. As much as you want. You start fantasizing. Your imagination is too powerful. You picture him climbing into the back seat. Taking you in his powerful arms, and flipping you onto your stomach, your breasts pressed flat against the leather seat. You imagine him taking your long hair and pulling it back as he enters you, his giant cock plunging into your sex again and again and again as you scream and moan and... [["We're here! I hope you had a nice ride!"]]

You open your eyes, breathing heavily. "Oh!" you say, surprised. "Yeah, totally! Thank you so much!" David gets out and opens the door for you. You step out, taking his friendly hand that helps you - it's so big compared to yours. "Thanks," you say, blushing, and your eyes wander down to his pants, where you can clearly see the bulge of a thick, long erection. You lick your lips, and giggle, before slapping a hand over your mouth. "Oh! I'm sorry!" David says, bashfully. He moves behind the door to cover himself. You laugh, unable to help yourself. "No problem - thanks again for the ride, David." You begin to walk away, putting an extra swing to your step for his benefit, when he calls out behind you. "I can offer you a better one. Right now." You stop. You narrow your eyes. You picture the dick that was beneath those pants. Hmmm. [[Turn around, and pull him into the backseat.]] [[Laugh, and wave goodbye as you walk away.]] [[Just keep walking. Is this what Ubers are like for women? Jesus.]]

"Mhm," You murmur as you walk back towards the car, and the now-grinning David "Maybe we could add a couple minutes to this trip?" You brush your hand up his arm, and under his chin, pulling it towards you, giving him the best fuck-me eyes you can. Which, as it turns out, is pretty good. "I got a little wet." You giggle. What is this shit coming out of your mouth, the last vestiges of your old mind wonder, before they're temporarily silenced by abject need. David's eyes widen, and he doesn't waste any time. The giant man quickly moves with you pulling him into the back seat, and is already taking off your shirt before he's even all the way there. You laugh, and help him take it off, your breasts bouncing free as you squeeze them together with your tiny hands, your hair trailing down your back as you lean forward, pushing your breasts into his hands. He starts massaging your nipples, and you moan, "NGghh," eyes open wide as you revel in the pleasure. "Sensitive one, huh," he says, before he wraps his arm around your back, and pulls you onto his lap, you giggling and smiling as you straddle him. You lean forward, brushing your hair behind your ears, and rub your nose on his, before he goes for a deep, intimate kiss, and your tongues dance on one another. Before you know it, your hands are ripping at his pants, your breath hotly flowing onto his face, as you look into his eyes. You're so wet you know that if this cock isn't in you soon, you're going to die. You moan as you struggle with the buckle, and look pleadingly at him, bouncing up and down on the thick erection you can feel beneath you. "Pleeease," You cry, and he smiles, and throws you to the side as he unfastens his pants. You stick your ass up in the air, the bountiful butt jiggling as you twerk it, looking over your shoulder with a seductive, begging look. [["Fuck me."]]

You laugh, politely, and throw a hand up at a tilt behind you as you walk away. You feel flattered, and bubbly. Maybe the flirting isn't so bad. [[You're at Adams Boulevard.]] <<set $leftuberhappy to 1>> <<set $need to $need + 2>>

You groan, quietly, the arousal fading and the reality of what was happening taking hold. Is this what it's like to be a woman? Having random dudes think they can get with you at any time? Ew. You don't look back as you walk away from the Uber, and creepy fucking David. Fuck that dude. [[You're at Adams Boulevard.]] <<set $creepyuber to 1>>

He pulls down your skirt to your knees, binding you, and slides your panties to the side. "Jesus, girl. You're a fucking river down here." You smile, proud of the compliment, and say, "I'm always ready." He palms your ass, and moves his dick - now free of the pants - to your dripping tunnel. Everything changes. A warm, throbbing invader starts to enter you, and you massage it with your love muscles. Your mouth opens in pure euphoria as his thick, eight-inch dick starts pumping in and out of you, getting deeper each time. You begin to moan like a bitch in heat, pushing your face into the seat and fondling your breasts. "Oh." He thrusts. "My." He pumps. "Goooodddd". He's fucking you hard now, and you look back at the mountain of man that's using you like a fleshlight, and reach back to touch his chest as he lifts you up against the window. You scream. You can feel it coming. A tidal wave of pleasure. You pop off of his dick, and turn to face him, tackling him so he's lying on the seat, face up. You drop down on his cock like it's holy to you, putting your hands on his thighs, and bounce like you're on a trampoline, screaming the whole time. He grabs your dainty waist, slapping you on your pulsating ass, and pulls you down, down onto his dick until the whole thing is inside you. [[You cum. Hard.]] <<set $sexcount to $sexcount + 1>>

A second later, you're outside your body. Watching as this beautiful woman - you - takes it like a champ. The pleasure reverbarates in your snatch, and you clench it as hard as you can, trying to hold onto the feeling. You run your hands all around your, and his, body, maximizing your feeling, trying to amplify all of it. "GHGHhhhaaaaaaa!!!" You scream as you squirt all over David, your juices flowing like a dam broke. You pant, moan, and scream as the orgasm dies down, and you fall onto his thick, dense chest. You look at him, feeling the cock still pump in and out of you, reveling in it, and put your hands on his pec. You put a finger to your mouth, sucking it in your thick lips, and look at him. He gets the message. You pop off with a splorch, dripping, and lean over his cock. Taking it in your hands, and rubbing up and down gently, you marvel at it. It's so thick. You lick the head. It's so pink and warm. You put your lips around it. It's mine. You begin bobbing your head up and down, expertly, as he grabs your hair and pulls it out of the way. Careful to always maintain eye contact, you lick, rub, and tease his cock until you can feel it thicken. Closing your eyes in heavenly anticipation, you push your face down, down and down until the whole length is in your throat - apparently this new body doesn't come with a gag reflex. David gasps. You feel your god pulse. And a torrent of warm, delicious, thick liquid fills your mouth. You gulp it down, looking back at david, your lips spread wide around his penis in a pouty O, and he puts his hands behind his head. "Jesus. Fuck." You pull yourself off the dick reluctantly, and giggle, wiping the cum off the tip and licking your fingers to get it all. You mount him again, purring, humping gently. "That was fuuuuuun." You say, in a sex-addled haze. Your brain hasn't returned to its normal function yet. "Yeah. No kidding. Jesus, you're a lay," David says, and you smile, jiggling your tits proudly. "I'm going to text you my number," he says, "I have yours from the app." You half-conciously nod. "Ok," you say. "Um," He lifts you up off of his chest, and you laugh at how light you are. "I gotta go - but seriously, text me sometime." He pulls on his pants, and hands you your shirt. You look at it puzzled, before realizing it's supposed to go on you. You get dressed, and he exits the car, opening up the door for you after you've organized yourself. Your brain is returning now, and you're torn between the powerful, "Oh my god that was the best feeling I've ever had," thoughts, and the "Oh god. I just fucked a dude." You feel a little sick as you exit the car, and he gives you a slap on the ass as you leave, which makes you giggle. Again. Jesus! [[You're at Adams Boulevard.]] <<set $fuckeduber to 1>> <<set $need to 0>>

Well, you made it. You’re on Adams – and as you pull up your phone to pull up the address – you turn to your left, and see the numbered sign. 1237. You’re here. You purse your lips. Huh. You were expecting a strip club, or a modeling agency, or a lingerie store. Something designed to entrap or degrade you in some way. But strangely enough, it’s not a triggering place. It’s a wedding photography studio. “Jess’s Studio” You walk up to the doors, taking in the happy photos of couples hung inside the wide glass windows. They’re lovely pictures. Great colors. Strong placement. Lovely Depth. You nod a little, impressed, before grabbing the long door handle, and pulling it open. [[It’s a push.]]

You look around after bobbling the door handle for a moment, letting out an embarrassed laugh, and brush your hair behind your left ear in a nervous motion. You push open the door, and walk in. It’s wonderful inside. The aesthetics are pure and clean – a simple white desk with one digital photo frame is in the center of the bamboo-walled room, with vibrant plants placed carefully in the corners. A smartly-dressed woman is sitting behind the desk, in front of a expensive-looking iMac, hair pulled up in a tight bun, and thin-framed black glasses resting on her dainty nose. She looks at you kindly as you approach, smiling authentically. “Hello! You must be Claire’s photographer!” You pause, and take a second to decide how to respond as you cover the distance between the door and the desk. [[Yeah! That's me. She didn't mention what I'd be doing, though?]] [[I...guess? Not totally sure what I'm doing here, to be honest.->Yeah! That's me. She didn't mention what I'd be doing, though?]] [[Nope! Not me. Ha. Wrong building! I'm so sorry, have a lovely day!]]

<<if $triedtoleave is 1>> You attempt to pull open the door, again, before realizing you already knew it was a push. "So silly!" You say out loud with a giggle. You walk in, and strut up to the desk with purpose. "Hello! Claire told me I had a job here?" You flash a dazzingly white smile, and flip your platinum curtain over your shoulder, where it rests on your breast - which you've pushed forward, your posture seeming different. "I'm kinda unclear on what I'm doing, though." She looks a little confused, and points at your clothes. "There was a woman who came in a moment ago who was wearing the exact same thing." You gesture down, giving a nervous giggle. "I guess my look is a little basic," you say, giving a pout with your thick lips and placing a hand on one of your hips. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not late or anything!" She shakes her head, smiling, abandoning the oddity of your aparent clothes-twin. <<endif>> “Oh!” She shakes her head, “That’s fine! It was short notice, we’re so glad you could come in. Your portfolio,” she gives an enthusiastic jazz hands, “was Amaaazing! I love how you captured the emotions of the day –not just the happiness, but the whole…weight of the moment.” She sighs, looking up, clearly enamored with whatever work she thinks you’ve done. You wonder if this is Claire mocking you. You are a photographer – taking yearbook photos so you can buy booze and weed. You’re not bad, but you’re no savant, either. You twirl your hair again, and give a polite laugh. You’ve committed this far – time to play along. “Thank you! I don’t think pure romanticizing is what people want – they want to remember feelings and emotions, not only smiles.” Inside your head, you pat yourself on the back. Not bad, $name. Still the king of the bullshit. Queen. Whatever. “So you’re going to be photographing a Jim Pattson and Mary Reed’s wedding. It’s a big one – and it’s at two. Claire let us know what equipment you like so I grabbed it all from the back and put it in this bag! She lifts a large black camera bag onto the desk, standing up, and you get a full look at her figure. She’s cute. Lightly curvy, in a floral summer dress that’s professional but adorable at the same time. She’s got B-cup breasts and nicely tan skin, amazing legs, and is wearing cute short platform heels. “Ah! I love your shoes!” you blurt out. You’re slowly giving up at controlling some of your impulses. The girly ones just pop right out. She blushes lightly, “Aw! Thanks! I got them at a little boutique down the road.” You take the bag, and look inside. There’s a very expensive looking DSLR camera, an array of lens – from macro, for some reason, to long-range. A compact tripod and a small lighting set lie beneath the camera parts. “So. You know the drill,” she says, pulling out a folder and handing it to you. You take it, and open it up. There’s a list of the different shots the client would like, and a hand-written note that says “Thank you for being part of our wedding! We’re so excited!” You smile. That’s cute, no matter what body you’re in. You close it, and tune back into the desk girl. “I have to thank you again, Mae was just so sick this morning and couldn’t make it, and all of our other staff just couldn’t come in! You’re a life saver.” She takes your hand, and gives it a firm grasp. Her skin is warm, and soft, and you flush a little. She continues. “So, we have about half an hour before we need to leave, I’m going to drive you – unless you drove here yourself?” <<if $creepyuber is 1>> [[Uh! Thank you. I didn't drive - I had this sketchball Uber who wouldn't stop hitting on me the whole ride.->acceptride]] <<endif>> <<if $fuckeduber is 1>> [[Ha! Nope. I, uh, had a pleasant ride in. A very...satisfying...Uber. But I'd love a ride there!->acceptride]] <<endif>> <<if $leftuberhappy is 1>> [[Oh! Thank you! I took an Uber here, so that's great. My driver was suuuper cute.->acceptride]] <<endif>>

Photographer? What the fuck? You’re having second thoughts again. And third thoughts. You figure she can’t know that you’ve ditched unless you text her – so you give a nervous laugh, a slight wave, and inform the desk lady that you’re in the wrong place. As you exit the store, your phone buzzes. You look at your hand. You look at the street. At freedom. You’re very scared. You theorize that fear of the unknown is always worse. So you look down, and read the notification off your lock screen. [[It’s a CNN notification! Something terrible must’ve happened in the world! But not to you.]]

<<if $fuckeduber is 1>> She laughs, a melodic chuckle. “That’s great! I never have good Uber experiences.” Smiling, you find a warmth building in your body as you reminisce to a very short time ago, and think of the feeling from having David pump in and out of you like a piston. You take a second, and pull yourself back to reality. “Yeah. It was kind of a… a first for me. But I’d love to drive with you! I have no idea where this is!” <<endif>> <<if $leftuberhappy is 1>> You can’t believe you said that. Your heterosexuality just keeps slipping away everytime you open your cute little mouth. But thinking of the man who drove you here, you heat up again, and can’t stop smiling. She laughs, a melodic giggle. “Oooh. Sounds fun. I never get cute Uber drivers. Always creepy men who just hit on me the whole time.” the smile slips for a second, but you force yourself to keep it. Was he creepy? Do you just like being hit on because of your new…predilections? You move past it. “Yeah it was fun! Real, uh, hottie. But I’d love to drive with you! I have no idea where the wedding even is!” <<endif>> <<if $creepyuber is 1>> She groans, a knowing look on her face. “Ugh! I know, right? It’s like every time an attractive woman is near them, they can’t shut their mouths and let her be!” You nod, noticing she called you attractive, and recognizing that is exactly what you are now. “I’m sorry,” she gives you a sympathetic look. “I mean, it’s bad for me, but you?” She gestures to your body, a dumbfounded expression on her face. “I mean, all that? You must have the worst of it.” You giggle, a little warmth building in your core, and nod. “Yeah, he was pretty aggressive and I was like, super uncomfortable. So,” You smile, lowering your eyelashes at her, “I would love to ride with you. I have no idea where it even is!” <<endif>> She nods, realizing how little you know. “Right! Sorry. So we’re going to Dunbar Oaks – it’s a little lake near town, like 30 minutes away?” Her eyes focus on somewhere far away. “It’s just so beautiful there. The flowers, the boats, it’s so charming and quaint and with a wedding there – Ugh! It’s gonna be magical.” You can’t help but feel what she’s describing, and a romantic haze fills you. Now you’re excited. To go to a wedding. This is new. She shakes her head. “Oh! I haven’t even introduced myself! I’m Marina. Claire didn’t mention your name!” She holds out a hand, expectantly. You bite your lip. You grab her hand softly, mind racing. Fuck! <<textbox "$fname" $fname>> \ <<button "Confirm">> <<set $fname to $fname.trim()>> <<if $fname is "">> <<replace "#fname-error">>Are you an idiot?<</replace>> <<else>> <<goto "Continue2.">> <</if>> <</button>>    \ <span id="fname-error"></span>

You smile, and let out a sigh of relief. She must not know where you are! You don’t know how this guantlent works, but it seems you’ve found a loophole. You can figure out your next moves now. The police? Look for your friends? Find your brother? The possibilities are endless. You don’t have to play by her rules anymore. [[Your phone buzzes again.]] You look down in abject terror. Frozen.

"Get back in there. And don't think there aren't consequences for this." You squirm as you read the words that bloomed up onto your screen. Oh god. Fuck. She knows. How does she know, you wonder. Is she tracking you? As you go to locations services in settings, you gasp. You drop your phone, and it bounces harmlessly off your foot. <<if $bimbo is 0>> You back up, your insides turning, and lean against a wall. You feel gross - like you just woke up after a night of drinking. Like you felt when you woke up this morning. You feel the gravelly surface of the wall through your dress, and whimper as your stomach bottoms out. But instead of throwing up, you feel it collapse, and watch as beneath your shirt, your waist shrinks, becoming doll-like in comparison to your wide hips and bountiful ass. You pull your hair over your shoulder, stroking it for comfort, when you notice your nails are longer, and a bright pink color, and your hair has bleached itself in totality, now platinum blonde, strikingly straight. You feel dazed as the feeling leaves your stomach. You hear a buzz from the floor, and you jump a little, shocked out of the scared and horny drift your mind was taking. You bend over, sticking your ass uncerimoniously in the air, as you pick up the phone, having trouble with your new, longer nails, and check it. Another text. "You're gonna have trouble saying no, now. If you want to see how far this goes, just keep pushing me, $name." You whimper, an incredibly submissive little squeak, and decide what to do next. <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 1>> You back up, your insides turning, and lean against a wall. You feel gross - like you just woke up after a night of drinking. Like you felt when you woke up this morning. You feel the gravelly surface of the wall through your dress, and whimper as your stomach bottoms out. But instead of throwing up, you feel it collapse, and watch as beneath your shirt, your waist shrinks, becoming doll-like in comparison to your wide hips and bountiful ass. You pull your streaked hair over your shoulder, stroking it for comfort, when you notice your nails are longer, and a bright pink color, and your hair is changing - bleaching itself in totality, now platinum blonde, strikingly white. You feel dazed as the feeling leaves your stomach. You hear a buzz from the floor, and you jump a little, shocked out of the scared drift your mind was taking. You bend over, sticking your ass uncerimoniously in the air, thinking about how anyone who passed at that moment could just, like, grab it and fuck you silly, as you pick up the phone, having trouble with your new, longer nails, and check it. Another text. @@color:deeppink;Oooh! Who could it be from!@@ You giggle as you slide open your phone and read it. "You're gonna have trouble saying no, now. If you want to see how far this goes, just keep pushing me, $name." You whimper, an incredibly submissive little squeak, and decide what to do next. Maybe you could go find someone to fuck you. You’re a little worried where all these horny thoughts are coming from, but you just feel - empty. You toss your hair behind your head, and palm your bountiful ass. It’s so big…There should be something big in it (and warm. And thick. And full of cum!). These thoughts feel less and less strange, and you smile as you run a finger over your lips. But now, you have to focus. What next? <<endif>> [[You can't disobey her. You enter the store for the second time.->Yeah! That's me. She didn't mention what I'd be doing, though?]] @@color:red;YOU HAVE NO CHOICE.@@ <<set $bimbo to $bimbo + 1>> <<set $need to $need + 4>> <<set $sub to $sub + 2>> <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>> <<set $triedtoleave to 1>> <<if $bimbo is 2 and $clothes is 1>> <<set $look to 9>> <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 1 and $clothes is 1>> <<set $look to 8>> <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 2 and $clothes is 2>> <<set $look to 13>> <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 1 and $clothes is 2>> <<set $look to 12>> <<endif>>

<<if $fname is $name>> "Huh! What an unusual name - isn't that generally a man's name? No offense meant," she gestures with her other hand apologetically. "Usually, yeah, but it goes both ways in...uh...where my parents came from." You smile, trying to end that. You hope there's no reprecussions from this choice later. <<else>> "Ooh! $fname. $fname! I like it - it's fitting." She smiles, clearly fitting the name to your face, staring into your eyes. "Thanks!" You say happily, glad you could think of something - even though you're stuck with it now - at least for the next couple of hours. <<endif>> Marina hasn't let go of your hand yet, and strokes your palm with her thumb. She realizes that she hasn't, looking down at your intertwined hands, and looks back up at you, letting go. "Uh. Well, we still have half an hour before we should leave. Do you want a tour of the place? I know," she puts her palms up in a pacifying gesture, "I know you're freelance, but hey! You never know when you'd like regular jobs - and if not, our office is kind of awesome," she giggles, clearly happy to be working here and in love with her own workplace. "We get, like, the richest weddings and events - so the equipment and offices are just incredible." Her enthusiasm is contagious. What else are you going to do? [["No, that's fine, Marina. I should probably make sure, uh, the camera's all set to my liking and make sure all my jobs are lined up."]] [["Ah! Let's do it! What else am I going to do for half an hour?"]] [["Oooh. That sounds great. But I could really use some coffee - is there a place nearby?"]]

Marina looks a little sad, the joy draining from her face, but nods. “Oh. OK!” Her smile returns as she reassumes her regular demeanor. “If anything is missing, just let me know and I’ll grab it!” She turns to her computer, having difficulty tearing her eyes away from you. You feel a little bad. She’s so cute, and now you let her down? Whatever. Not your job to keep her entertained. You take the bag and sit in one of the fancy white-leather, modern armchairs that’s by the front windows. Opening the bag, you take out the camera and the mid-range lens. Marina was right – this is really nice gear. You screw on the lens and turn on the camera, and grab a 128gb card from the bag’s side pocket. Good. No risk of getting out of control while configuring a camera. You play with the settings and the equipment, occasionally catching Marina glancing at you from over her computer, and the two of you make superficial chatter half-heartedly as the time dwindles down. However, you can only play with your camera for so long. You put it away, and Marina jumps on the opportunity. “Sure you don’t want a tour?” She beams at you. God. It’s gonna be hard to say no to that face. [[You don’t. “Alright, Marina! Let’s do it.”->"Ah! Let's do it! What else am I going to do for half an hour?"]] [[You smile politely. “You know what I need? Coffee. Is there a place near here?”->"Oooh. That sounds great. But I could really use some coffee - is there a place nearby?"]] [[You frown, sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I just need to send a couple of emails. I hope I don’t seem rude.”]] <<set $timecrunch to 1>> <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>>

“Yay!” Marina bursts, jumping up and smoothing her dress. “Ooh you’re going to be so impressed.” She moves out from behind the desk, and takes your hand, leading you to the fogged glass double doors on the back bamboo wall. You nearly trip on your shoes as she rushes you into the back. You enter the office section of the building, and immediately understand what she’s talking about. The same clean and simple interior design continues into the back, but this floor is divided into three thirds by glass walls. Centered in the room is a long conference table, made of some kind of shiny, dark wood, with the other two adjacent sides of the room separated by translucent glass walls. One side is offices – six of them – neat and organized, with photos of weddings hung up and decorations strewed around, giving the glass cubes some personality. On the other side is a workshop, full of cameras and equipment. “So this is the photographer’s offices – we have six current staff photographers – and this is their conference room where they critique or edit their projects. In this room,” she leads you into the workshop, “we have all the camera equipment you could possibly need. Go ahead, take a look.” She releases your hand, and motions for you to examine the gear. You pull open hydraulic drawers on the counters, revealing all kinds of tools and lights. Examining the cameras that are held in a white-painted cubby rack, you estimate there’s a couple hundred thousand dollars in camera on the first shelf alone. You move around, trying to make it seem like you know what everything is, humoring Marina as you pick things up and put them down. “Wow, Marina, you weren’t kidding – this is incredible.” You turn back toward her, and she beams. “I know! I’ve been learning how to use all this – and while I’m not at your or Jess’s level, of course – I’m getting the hang of it! But you have to see the break room. There’s kombucha!” Taking your hand again, she walks you back into the conference section, and through the door in the back. [[Check out the break room.]]

“Yeah! There’s a cute hipster coffee place just a block down. I could use some coffee too. Our Keurig is broken, and my caffeine addiction is literally killing me.” She puts a finger gun to her head, and pulls the imaginary trigger, flopping her head down. You laugh. She’s quirky. “Cool! I’ll take the bag so we can go straight to the wedding afterwards,” you say. You heft the bag up onto your much smaller shoulder, and smile at Marina as she stands up, grabbing her purse, and walks around to the front of the desk. “Great! I’ll bring the keys.” The two of you walk out the door together, striking up a chat about the different types of coffee you like. You advocate strongly for an Irish coffee, and Marina laughs, touching your arm. This time, you remember the proper direction for the door. [[You walk to the coffee shop together.]]

She quickly brushes off your apology. “No! No, that’s fine – you’re not being rude at all. This was last minute so I suppose you probably have some things to reschedule. She smiles with pursed lips, not enthused by your rebuffs. You feel awkward as you tap on your phone. You’re playing a game about fishing, and shooting those fish. You hope it looks like you’re typing. Time passes. The room is silent, besides the clack of your nails on your phone’s screen, and the occasional smatter of typing from Marina. You keep looking at the clock on the top of your phone. This is agony. Eventually, it’s time. Marina stands up, straightening her dress. You look up, and smile at her, trying to make the weirdness go away. She can’t help but smile back. You know it’s because you’re so…pretty. That felt weird to think. “Ready to go?” She asks. [[Let’s do it!->Entering the car.]] <<set $integrity to $integrity - 1>> <<set $marina to 1>>

The pair of you reach the car, an old, orange Volkswagen Rabbit, and Marina pulls open the door for you. “I love your car,” you say, bubbly, and you mean it - Rabbits are fast as hell. It might not be the inflection you’d have as a man, but the sentiment is the same. <<if $marina is 1>> Marina looks at you apprehensively. “Oh, thanks. This old thing?” she chuckles nervously. “Let’s get going,” she follows up, awkwardly. Looks like she didn’t take your reservation all that well after all. You slide into the seat, placing the camera bag in front of you, and Marina shuts the door next to you. Hard. Yikes. A second later, she’s sitting next to you. Starting the car, you open your mouth to try to start a conversation, feeling obligated since you feel you may have been a little rude, but Marina turns on the radio before you can say anything. As light pop music starts to flood the cabin, you shut your mouth, a little taken aback, and scrunch up in your seat. It’s gonna be a long thirty minutes. [[Try to apologize.]] [[Just sit there in silence.]] <<endif>> <<if $marina is 2>> Marina laughs in surprise. “Whaaat? This old thing? No way.” “No! Seriously, I love it - it’s so cute!” No. That’s wrong. You like it because it’s fast. Damn. “Thaaaanks,” Marina says, and you slide into the seat, putting the camera bag behind you. She touches your arm as she begins to close the door, “All good?” You smile. “Yep! Good to go!” She slides her hand down your arm and shuts the door. This girl, you think. She gets in on the other side, and starts up the engine. Peeling out into the street, she starts on the way to Dunbar Oaks. “You’re going to love the scene, $fname, it’s going to be great for your photography.” As the car weaves and winds its way through the roads, pulling out of the city and into tree-filled arbor roads, the two of you talk about weddings - it seems appropriate. Marina loves weddings - one of her favorite parts of work is getting to go to them. She talks about all the different things she’s seen, from horrifying mistakes to wonderful couples, weaving tales that entrap the growing romantic part of your brain. You listen as you watch her talk, the seatbelt pressing her dress tight onto her chest, and you can see the outlines of a frilly-looking bra. She’s staring forward, still recounting tales that astonish, and you listen in rapture. At some point, down the road, in the middle of a story you’ve spaced out of, staring at her - she turns to you and asks, “Have you ever…just felt that level of attraction and instant feelings for another person?” Hmmm. If things go this way, you're only in this body for a little while. Marina sure is into it. How do you respond? <<if $bimbo lt 2>> [[You know where this is going. You definitely have.]] [[Tell her you haven’t. You don’t know what context she’s in, but you know the question is pointed.]] <<else>> [[You can’t help yourself. You wiggle your butt in your seat, giggle, and reach over to Marina. You definitely have some…feelings right now.->You can’t help yourself. You wiggle your butt in your seat, giggle, and reach over to Marina. You definitely have some…thoughts right now.]]<<endif>> <<endif>> <<if $marina gte 3>> Marina laughs in surprise. “Whaaat? This old thing? No way.” “No! Seriously, I love it - it’s so cute!” No. That’s wrong. You like it because it’s fast. Damn. “Thaaaanks,” Marina says, and you slide into the seat, putting the camera bag behind you. She touches your arm as she begins to close the door, “All good?” You smile, and touch her hand “Yeah. Aaaalll set.” She slides her hand down your arm and shuts the door. This girl, you think. She gets in on the other side, and starts up the engine. Peeling out into the street, she starts on the way to Dunbar Oaks. “You’re going to love the scene, $fname, it’s going to be great for your photography.” As the car weaves and winds its way through the roads, pulling out of the city and into tree-filled arbor roads, the two of you talk about weddings - it seems appropriate. Marina loves weddings - one of her favorite parts of work is getting to go to them. She talks about all the different things she’s seen, from horrifying mistakes to wonderful couples, weaving tales that entrap the growing romantic part of your brain. You listen as you watch her talk, the seatbelt pressing her dress tight onto her chest, and you can see the outlines of a frilly-looking bra. She’s staring forward, still recounting tales that astonish, and you listen in rapture. At some point, down the road, in the middle of a story you’ve spaced out of, staring at her - she turns to you as if to ask a question, and notices your gaze. She wryly smiles. “Checking me out already, $fname? You’re quick. What, uh, are you thinking right now?” She bites her lip. You look at the road. It’s long, straight, and unturning. A couple of thoughts form in your mind, and you stretch, languishing, reaching into the air, sticking out your chest, and shaking your hair behind your head. You see her mouth open slightly, sucking in a breath. She just can’t get enough of this new you. So what’s next for this car ride? <<if $bimbo lt 2>> [[You know where this is going. And though it may not be the side you’d thought you’d be on - road head fascinates you.->You know where this is going. You definitely have.]] [[Lean back in your seat, teasing her. You don’t want to go over the top.->Tell her you haven’t. You don’t know what context she’s in, but you know the question is pointed.]] <<else>> @@color:deeppink;[[You can’t help yourself. You wiggle your butt in your seat, giggle, and reach over to Marina. You definitely have some…thoughts right now.]]@@<<endif>> <<endif>>

Welp. This is the nicest break room you’ve ever seen. You almost feel as if shouldn’t be called a break room, it’s so…together. “Wow.” You step onto the light-colored wooden floor, and walk up the two stairs to the raised kitchen section. The room is neat – a kitchen with all white appliances, a couple of comfy-looking, odd-shaped chairs on a rug in front of a 50-inch wall-mounted TV, a soft, plush rug underneath. Skylights cast a soft glow on the room, natural lighting pleasant and easy. The room smells like fresh coffee and donuts, and your mouth waters. “Ugh! That smell!” Marina exclaims, sitting at the round white table in the middle of the U-shaped kitchen. “The keurig’s broken, but we usually have like the best K-cups and at least one pastry a day. The office is entirely women – so we have the nicest environment here. Sit! I’ll grab you a drink. Kombucha or Iced Tea?” She gets up as you sit at the table, crossing your legs. Opening the fridge, she pulls out two bottles, a dark bottle of a Whole-foods-looking tea, and a light tan bottle of what you assume is Kombucha, though you’ve never had it. You realize you haven’t drank anything since this morning, and feel thirsty. [[I’ll take the tea, thanks!]] [[Kombucha, huh? Sure!]]

She nods, and puts the Kombucha back in the fridge grabbing another tea and walking over. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of the stuff either. Prefer anything with caffeine.” She pulls the cap off the drinks, and slides yours over to you, and takes a big gulp of hers. “Sorry,” she says after she’s done, “I was really thirsty.” “Tell me about it,” you say in between sips, “I haven’t drank anything all day.” You take a large drink, and not used to the largess of your new lips, spill on your shirt, the light fabric darkening above your breast. Marina stares at it. You think at the stain, but it’s hard to tell, and you look down, trying to dab away the liquid with your hand. “Ah, sorry! I’m a little klutzy today, I guess.” “Let me help you with that!” Marina says as she stands and grabs a paper napkin from a drawer next to the stove. She walks over to you as you look at the liquid spreading, the blotch getting larger. “It’s fine, it’ll dry,” you say, but Marina interrupts. “It’s no trouble.” You look up to take the napkin, but Marina is already leaning in, and reaches to dab the spot. You’re a little taken aback, but it’s too late - she wipes the liquid off, getting the drips that are on the upper slope of your breast. Your mouth opens as you feel the light pressure. You gasp softly. Marina looks up, not removing her hand. Your eyes meet. You feel a charge between you, and stare into her dark green eyes, transfixed by the color and the sparkle in them. She blinks slowly, her lashes long and thick, and you notice her eyeshadow - it’s artfully done, a spike that trails of the top to the outer lids. You both haven’t moved in almost 45 seconds. <<if $bimbo lt 2>> [[You put your hand on hers, and move it downwards, until she’s cupping your firm, taut breast.->Lesbsexmarina]] <<endif>> <<if $need lt 5>> [[What are you doing. You can’t do this.]] [[You smile, and wait. She's sweet - but you need to be careful.->What are you doing. You can’t do this.]] <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 2>> @@color:deeppink;[[You giggle, and stick your chest forward, moving her hand down with hers until it’s cupping your massive breast. You stare into her eyes, and lick your lips.->Lesbsexmarina]]@@ <<endif>>

She nods, and walks over with both. “Cool! I’m not a fan of the Kombucha, sadly. I know it’s super good for you and stuff, but I just don’t like the taste. Plus I’ll go for anything with caffeine.” She pulls the cap off the drinks, and slides yours over to you, and takes a big gulp of hers. “Sorry,” she says after she’s done, “I was really thirsty.” “Tell me about it,” you say in between sips, “I haven’t drank anything all day.” You take a large drink, and not used to the largess of your new lips, spill on your shirt, the light fabric darkening above your breast. Marina stares at it. You think at the stain, but it’s hard to tell, and you look down, trying to dab away the liquid with your hand. “Ah, sorry! I’m a little klutzy today, I guess.” “Let me help you with that!” Marina says as she stands and grabs a paper napkin from a drawer next to the stove. She walks over to you as you look at the liquid spreading, the blotch getting larger. “It’s fine, it’ll dry,” you say, but Marina interrupts. “It’s no trouble.” You look up to take the napkin, but Marina is already leaning in, and reaches to dab the spot. You’re a little taken aback, but it’s too late - she wipes the liquid off, getting the drips that are on the upper slope of your breast. Your mouth opens as you feel the light pressure. You gasp softly. Marina looks up, not removing her hand. Your eyes meet. You feel a charge between you, and stare into her dark green eyes, transfixed by the color and the sparkle in them. She blinks slowly, her lashes long and thick, and you notice her eyeshadow - it’s artfully done, a spike that trails of the top to the outer lids. You both haven’t moved in almost 45 seconds. <<if $bimbo lt 2>> [[You put your hand on hers, and move it downwards, until she’s cupping your firm, taut breast.->Lesbsexmarina]] <<endif>> <<if $need lt 5>> [[What are you doing. You can’t do this.]] [[You smile, and wait. She's sweet - but you need to be careful.->What are you doing. You can’t do this.]] <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 2>> @@color:deeppink;[[You giggle, and stick your chest forward, moving her hand down with hers until it’s cupping your massive breast. You stare into her eyes, and lick your lips.->Lesbsexmarina]]@@ <<endif>>

You close your eyes, and tilt your head to the side. No. You can't do this. You want to - so badly - but you can't. Marina gets the hint, and pulls her hand away, your shirt now dry. "Sorry," she starts to say, "You're just so.." "No, Marina, it's fine, I'm just going through some stuff and.." "Oh no, I mean I don't want you to think..." "Marina," you say, firmly. "Another time, maybe." You take hold of her hand, and give it a gentle stroke. She smiles, a little embarrased, her cheeks turning red. "Oh, God," she says, "You're amazing. I can't wait to see you work!" Cute. An obvious change of subject and mood. But, given how lustful you've just become, and how close you are to tackling this girl and trying to shove your face in her pussy, you roll with it. "Ah! Of course! How're we doing on time?" Marina looks at her phone. "We have ten minutes, but I guess we could take off now - no harm in being a little earlier than expected." She blushes as you make eye contact. You've clearly been underestimating the draw of what you are now. "When you put it that way," you say, "Why not? Let's hit the road!" You put a hand on Marina's shoulder, and the two of you exit the room, and walk towards the car. [[Entering the car.]] <<set $need to $need + 2>> <<set $marina to 2>>

You lean into her, her lips parting, and with your free hand, you reach under her dress. Moving it up her thigh - thick and firm - you reach her panties, and brush your nails against their edge. She closes her eyes, her breathing accelerating, as you stand, keeping her hand firmly on your tit, your nipple hard against her palm, and she begins to move it in gentle circles. Mmmm. You travel up from the edge of her panties, towards the center, finding a wet spot on the twin ridges your exploring hand discovers. You smile, your eyes closed, as your soft touch elicits a moan from her lips. You look at the woman you’re about to fuck. This isn’t so bad. Marina leans in, and pulls you closer, her other hand pulling you in by the neck, finding its way in through your draping hair to rest on your skin, warm and welcome. Her nose rubs against yours, your eyes still locked, and she closes them, her lashes brushing your cheeks. She smells like oranges. You feel her lips brush against yours, and you kiss her, feeling the softness and tenderness of her push. You press into her body as you start pulling down her panties beneath her dress. <<if $bimbo is 2>> You break the kiss, looking into her eyes as you giggle, and lick her spit off your lips, your tongue barely long enough to reach the edges of your plump, swollen lips. You take her hand from your breast, and place it over your hungry tunnel. You press her hand into your skirt. “Wow,” Marina whispers. “I can feel how wet you are through your skirt.” You giggle again, tossing your platinum hair around as you playfully bite her earlobe, and whisper back, @@color:deeppink;“I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.”@@ You push her hand down more, and moan at the pressure. @@color:deeppink;“Nggggh.”@@ <<else>> As you continue to make out, Marina steps out of her soaking underwear, and you slide your hand back up to her mound, running your fingers over her lower lips. She leans back, breaking the kiss. “Oh,” she murmurs.”Oh!” You run the pad of your pointer around the top of her cleft until you find a little bump that makes her jolt. “MMMmm right there, $fname.” She looks back into your eyes, and smiles dreamily. “I can’t believe how hot you are.” You laugh. “Look at yourself,” you whisper, and start rubbing her clit, using your new knowledge of the button’s sensitivity. Marina gasps, and starts removing your shirt, freeing her hand from your grasp. <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 2>> [[Marina smiles, and pushes you onto the table.]] <<else>> [[She pulls the shirt over your head, blinding you, and you both fall.]] <<endif>> <<set $sexcount to $sexcount + 1>>

It’s not a large table, and your legs hang off the side, but Marina has a solution, putting your calves on her shoulders. You laugh, and clap your hands. You know what’s about to happen. You lean your head back, your blonde hair flowing off the edge of the table. You feel your skirt being rolled all the way up, and hot breath on your inner thighs as Marina moves closer and closer towards you, until your upper thighs are now resting on her shoulders. She must be close, and you’re tired of waiting. @@color:deeppink;“Maaarrinaa,”@@ you moan. @@color:deeppink;“I’m soooo wet,”@@ you mewl with a giggle. You hear a soft voice whisper from between your legs, “You sure are,” and then a finger brushes against your dripping lips. @@color:deeppink;“MMMmmmm. Yeah. I want to feel your tongue,”@@ you say, the slutty side of your personality taking hold. Marina laughs, and you feel the tip of her nose rub your clit. “You want to feel…my tongue, $fname?” she teases. Ugh! You want this sooo much, and the teasing makes you squirm. @@color:deeppink;“Plllleassse, Marina. I’ll return the favor.”@@ “Well - when you put it that way,” she says mischeviously. Then, instantaneously, you feel her tongue dancing around your vagina. Oh, god. You revel in the warmth and skill. She’s done this before. Fuccckkk. <<if $hadsexwithclaire is 1>> She’s even better than Claire was <<endif>> You start to buck as she grabs your hips and pushes her face into you, her hot, wet tongue performing a symphony on your sensitive organs. Curling up to look at your partner, you grab her head, undoing her bun, and her lovely brunette hair spills around her head, a cute, wavy hairstyle falling to her shoulders. She’s removed her glasses, and looks up at you, and looking into her eyes makes you scream a little. She’s just sooo cute! You vocalize the thought - not many are going through your head right now. @@color:deeppink;“Oooh you’re sooo cute!”@@ She giggles into your clit, but only keeps working. She’s not stopping until you’ve gotten what you need. As the symphony keeps building, the tempo rising, you feel the notes starting to hit harder and harder as the concerto amps up, and you start to climax. @@color:deeppink;“Oooh. I’m almost there! Marina, I’m almost there!”@@ Your words are slurring - you’re fading into the fog, warm and comfy and spasming. A series of staccato notes marks the final sequence - and you cum - forte - screaming as your brain explodes and your legs twitch. @@color:deeppink;“UUunnnggghh.”@@ As the music of cunnilingus ends, and Marina leans over you to lock mouths with you again, you smile into the kiss. @@color:deeppink;“Hey Marina?”@@ you say, giggling. “Yeah, $fname?” she whispers softly. @@color:deeppink;[[It’s my turn.]]@@

You tumble down the two-step stairs, onto the soft, plush rug, laughing as you lie in a tangle on the edge of the rug. Marina manages to remove your shirt, finally, and you sweep your hair behind your head, maneuvering on top of her, your chest pressed against hers. “Oops,” she laughs. “My bad.” “Oh, I don’t know,” you tell her, “this seems like a more… conducive position.” You’ve already got a hand back on her leg, and are moving it up her leg, when she stops you. “I don’t want your fingers,” she says, leaning in close, her lips brushing your ear, her hot breath on your cheek. “…I want that gorgeous mouth.” You laugh, embarrassed but delighted. This is so weird, but you’re sure enjoying it. “Alright,” you say, and start moving down her body, pulling the top of her dress down, and kissing her puffy nipple, running your tongue in a circle around the areola, getting a moan and a hand squeezing your arm as a response. As you move down further, she grabs your hair, stopping you. “Wait…flip around.” Well, ok then! You’re not about to refuse that. You awkwardly shift positions, your bubble-butt now positioned over her upper chest, and your head over her dripping pussy. Your long hair is draped on her thighs, your breasts crushed against her lower stomach, and you move your face lower, watching her needy hole drip onto the rug. She's as wet as you. You smile as your lips descend to their ultimate goal - you’ve never done a 69 before. [[There’s a first time for everything.]]

You pull her down to your body, wiggling against hers, your swollen breasts crushing into her own chest. Then, you slide out from underneath her, between her legs, and pin her to the table, her ass jutting into the air, her face pressed against the cool, white surface. “OOhh,” she gasps. “Changing it up?” You nod. Then you realize, she can’t see that! Whatevers. You push her dress until it’s above her waist, and slap her ass, watching the perky, tight little thing bounce as she lets out her breath. You grab the rubber band that Marina must’ve dropped when she let her hair down, and put your blonde mane in a thick, long ponytail. You’re going to need some space to work. Bending over, you run your finger along the edges of her vagina. It’s so perfect, so fascinating. You stick one of your hands down into yours, tracing the same route, feeling the connection between you. You can feel her breathing speed up as you test the waters. But that’s not going to last long. As good as you feel right now, you know she needs to feel better. She helped you, so you owe her, right? Like, you owe her so much. You’re hers until she cums all over your pretty, hyper femme face. Smiling, you dive right in, and shove your tongue onto her clit. She starts mewling as you get into it, drawing the story of you getting fucked by her onto her clit as if it was a canvas. Sure, they might just be stick figures, but the complex patterns sure seem to be working for her. “Geehh. Muh. Onhhh.” You take your finger away from your own equipment, and stick it in hers, getting your own lube inside her already well-lubricated pussy. @@color:deeppink;“You like that? Am I doing a good job?”@@ You see her head bounce as she nods. “uuunnhh. huuuuhh.” @@color:deeppink;“MMmm,”@@ you moan, getting off on pleasuring her. You double your efforts. You want her to cum in your mouth. After a couple minutes of licking, fingering, and slurping, she does just that. Her hips start to push her pussy into your face, and she reaches back to hold your head into it as her legs start to tense. “OOOohhh $fname!!! Fuck me!!!” she yells, groaning, and you finish her off. @@color:deeppink;“Am I a good girl?”@@ you yell over her as you take her into orgasm again. Who knows where this train of thought is coming from - but you’re 100% focused on fucking right now. No time to worry about that. She moans in response. @@color:deeppink;“Call me a gooood girl,”@@ you demand in a girly, sultry voice. “You’re a good girl, $fname. Just keep going,” she manages to get out. You go for a triple, and knock it home. She slumps backwards after, sliding off the table, and pins you to the ground underneath her, her ass on your breasts, her face in between your legs. You’re still basking in the afterglow of your own orgasm, so you sit until she’s ready, giggling and licking the sweet stuff off your fingers. [[Marina eventually sits up.]]

You dive in, face first. To new experiences! Your lips purse around your tongue, as you lick in every pattern you can imagine, hearing the moans coming from beneath your hips, motivating you to continue. You feel your own pussy drip, lubricant dropping, and you picture it on Marina’s lips as she moves up. You can feel her stomach tightening beneath your breasts, knowing that she’s rising. And then, her tongue confirms it. Her tongue is dancing around your vagina. Oh, god. You revel in the warmth and skill. She’s done this before. Fuccckkk. <<if $hadsexwithclaire is 1>> She’s even better than Claire was <<endif>> You start to buck as she grabs your hips and pushes her face into you, deeper, her hot, wet tongue performing a symphony on your sensitive organs. You double your own efforts, feeling like the lucky one in this exchange, trying to match each motion with one of your own. You feel a welcome invasion below your clit - and a pair of fingers starts rubbing inside you. You break your passionate licking for a second, forced by pleasure to cry out in a half moan, half scream. She giggles into your clit, but only keeps working. She’s not stopping until you’ve gotten what you need. You push yourself back into her. You’re not stopping until she gets what she deserves. As the symphony keeps building, the tempo rising, you feel the notes starting to hit harder and harder as the concerto amps up, and you start to climax, anticipation spreading into every orifice. You feel her pause, using her fingers to hit all your walls - not giving you a break as you buck your hips as you start to cum. You barely hear her say, “Oooh, $fname - I’m sooo close.” Luckily, you’re not gone yet - and you pull out the Arabic alphabet you learned in school to finish her off. A series of staccato notes marks the final sequence - and you convulse and scream - forte - bursting as your brain explodes and your legs twitch. “ooooh.” Beneath you, the image of you cumming is the last straw for Marina - and she moans alongside you, a harmony of sexual pleasure, as you climax together. You collapse onto her legs, face glazed in happiness, and you both lie there for a minute, comfortable, enjoying each other’s warmth and feel. [[You eventually sit up.]]

You perch yourself on her chest, your ass splayed on her breasts, her trapped underneath you. You toss your hair over your shoulder, clearing the way to look over it and behind you, at Marina. She's undone her bun, and her lovely brunette hair spills around her head, a cute, wavy hairstyle falling to her shoulders. Her glasses are off too, and she looks up at you. Looking into her eyes makes you scream internally. She’s just too cute! You smile at the girl. She makes a satisfied noise, like a person who's just had a good meal. Which, you guess, she has. Slapping your butt like it's a pair of bongos, she says, "Well. That was fun. We probably have to get going if we're going to make the wedding, though." "Oh," you exclaim. "Right." You bite your lip, and give her a seductive look. "Something made me forget all about that for a moment." She laughs, and throw you off of her. You also forgot how light you were, and you spoon her, playing with her smaller but fun little tits. "I guess we could go," you say, and you get up. You don't really want to run against Claire - and you're guessing she might be a little miffed, to say the least, if you don't do the job. Marina stands, and finds her panties. You've kind of destroyed yours, and you readjust the rest of your clothes, and toss the smelly, soaking pair in the trash while Marina's back is turned. She's looking at her phone - and curses. "Shit!" "What?" you ask, genuinely concerned. "We should've left ten minutes ago. I'm going to have to speed!" she says, still smiling, and after you've straightened yourselves out, she pulls you towards the door. "This way, $fname! We've got a mission!" [[Entering the car.]] <<set $need to 0>> <<set $marina to 3>>

Marina awakes a minute later, making a satisfied noise, like a person who's just had a good meal. Which, you guess, she has. She licks your pussy softly, saying, "Well. That was fun. We probably have to get going if we're going to make the wedding, though." @@color:deeppink;"Oh,"@@ you exclaim. @@color:deeppink;"Right."@@ You bite your lip, and give her a seductive look as she sits up and looks at you over her shoulder. @@color:deeppink;"Something made me forget all about that for a moment!”@@ She laughs, and gets off of you, and pulls you up. You also forgot how light you were, and you press into her, playing with her smaller but fun little tits. @@color:deeppink;"I guess we could go,"@@ you say, and kiss her needfully. You don't really want to run against Claire - and you're guessing she might be a little miffed, to say the least, if you don't do the job. But ugh. Sex is sooo good in this body. You love it, and want more. Your reservations are disappearing. Marina stands, and finds her panties. You've kind of destroyed yours, and you readjust the rest of your clothes, and toss the smelly, soaking pair in the trash while Marina's back is turned. She's looking at her phone - and curses. "Shit!" "What?" you ask, genuinely concerned, your mental faculties starting to return. "We should've left ten minutes ago. I'm going to have to speed!" she says, still smiling, and after you've straightened yourselves out, she pulls you towards the door. "This way, $fname! We've got a mission!" [[Entering the car.]] <<set $need to 2>> <<set $marina to 4>>

Marina was right - the shop was close. You reach the end of the block, and the adorable corner shop has a cute sign - a swirl of metal handwriting that says, proudly, “The Smug Mug”. You let out a little, “Awww,” your eyes crinkling. “I told you it was cute,” Marina smirks, a little smug herself. There’s winding vines around wooden trellises that demarcate the outdoor seating, quaint little round tables with individualized flowers in their centers. You walk in through the single door, styled like a greenhouse entry, with Marina following closely. You walk to the counter, where a cheerful little man with heavy-framed round glasses smiles at you as you enter. “Hey!”, he says, full of a genuine cheer. “What can I get for you two gorgeous ladies today?” He’s pretty clearly gay, so you don’t feel quite as odd as the last time someone beautiful. Which is a change. Who would’ve guessed a gay man calling you hot would be the platonic option? Marina puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently, and says, “I got this! Coffee on the studio! What do you want?” She looks at you expectantly. [[Affogato->coffee2]] [[Americano->coffee2]] [[Bicerin->coffee2]] [[Breve->coffee2]] [[Café Bombón->coffee2]] [[Café au lait->coffee2]] [[Caffé Corretto->coffee2]] [[Café Crema->coffee2]] [[Caffé Latte->coffee2]] [[Caffé macchiato->coffee2]] [[Café mélange->coffee2]] [[Coffee milk->coffee2]] [[Cafe mocha->coffee2]] [[Ca phe sua da->coffee2]] [[Cappuccino->coffee2]] [[Carajillo->coffee2]] [[Cortado->coffee2]] [[Cuban espresso->coffee2]] [[Espresso->coffee2]] [[Eiskaffee->coffee2]] [[The Flat White->coffee2]] [[Frappuccino->coffee2]] [[Galao->coffee2]] [[Greek frappé coffee->coffee2]] [[Iced Coffee->coffee2]] [[Indian filter coffee->coffee2]] [[Instant coffee->coffee2]] [[Kopi Luwak->coffee2]] [[Kopi Tubruk->coffee2]] [[Turkish coffee->coffee2]] [[Vienna coffee->coffee2]] [[Yuanyang->coffee2]] [[Just black coffee. Nothing in it.->coffee2]]

“Great!” Marina says, and turns to the coffee guy. “She’ll take that, and I’ll take a cup with six shots of espresso in it.” You look at her, eyes wide, and say, “Wow! Feeling sleepy?” She laughs as she hands the guy a twenty. “I guess I’m just afraid I’ll get the shakes if I don’t get enough.” Coffee guy says thanks as you walk away, and sit at a table next to the window, with a tiger lily as the centerpiece. As you wait for your coffee, the two of you start talking, the conversation flowing as you talk about movies and music and art. You start to talk about drinks as coffee man puts your orders in front of you, and you sip on the drink while the minutes tick away, laughing and chatting, her touching your arm when she giggles, you pushing your hair behind your ears. You can’t stop staring at her sparkling eyes, the dark green irises transfixing you. You realize that the two of you are flirting pretty intensely. She starts rubbing her foot, out of her cute shoes, on your leg, moving it slowly up and down your smooth, hairless calf. You’re getting a little hot. The two of you seem to have a lot in common. Books. Films. She even also thinks Jon Stewart would be a good president. You feel uplifted, a little hazy. Warm and fuzzy. You realize you’re holding her hand flat on the table, and blush, giving it a squeeze. She laughs at something you said, and stares at you, resting her head on her other hand, propped up by her elbow. She undoes her bun, saying something like,” Ugh. I feel so formal,” but you’re not really listening. Other thoughts have started to form in your head, and are drowning out reality. Her lovely brunette hair spills around her head, a cute, wavy hairstyle falling to her shoulders. You notice a slight highlight of a brownish gold in it, and comment on it, and she blushes, twirling a strand around her finger, sitting upright. You both sit there, staring at each other, smiling, for a good forty-five seconds to a minute. <<if $timecrunch is 1>> Marina’s phone buzzes - she’s set on the table. “Oh!” She exclaims, letting go of your hand to pick it up! “Shoot! We have to leave or we’ll be late!” She stands quickly, and you shake the haze away, bringing yourself back, standing as well. “Right,” you reply, blushing as she leans against you to fix her shoe. “The job!” “Well, this was fun. I hope you’re ready for a long car ride too,” she smiles, picking up her coffee and heading toward the door. You throw your empty cup in the trash, and wave at coffee guy as he says, “Thank you!” to the swinging door, and walk with Marina to her car. [[Entering the car.]] <<else>> Marina bites her lower lip, batting her eyelashes. You want her. You think she wants you. You don’t really know what to do from here. Luckily, it seems you don’t have to. “So, um, do you, like, want to see the office’s break room?” She asks, a sultry smile with a hint of uncertainty on her face.”We still have like, ten minutes? And I can drive fast - so maybe like twenty?” She giggles nervously. “It’s a really cool break room. Easily the best part of the office. There’s, uh, a really nice, comfortable rug.” She blushes. She’s running her thumb on the bridge of your hand as she squeezes it, her foot traveling up to your upper, inner thigh. You can feel your arousal pooling in your panties. She’s propositioning you. You wonder what you could do in twenty minutes. [[Head to this break room. You could use a break.]] <<if $need gte 5>>@@color:red;AND A BREAK IS WHAT YOU'RE GONNA TAKE.@@<<endif>> <<if $need lt 5>>[[Just stick with the coffee. You don’t want to go down this road.]]<<endif>> <<endif>> <<set $integrity to $integrity + 1>> <<set $need to $need + 2>> <<set $marina to 2>>

You close your eyes, and tilt your head to the side. No. You can't do this. You want to say, "Sounds great! Lead the way!" - so badly - but you can't. Marina gets the hint, and pulls her hand away, removing her leg from its very sex-adjacent placement. "Sorry," she starts to say, "You're just so.." "No, Marina, it's fine, I'm just going through some stuff and.." "Oh no, I mean I don't want you to think..." "Marina," you say, firmly. "Another time, maybe." You take hold of her retreating hand, and give it a gentle stroke. She smiles, a little embarrased, her cheeks turning red. "Oh, God," she says, "You're amazing. I can't wait to see you work!" Cute. An obvious change of subject and mood. But, given how lustful you've just become, and how close you are to tackling this girl and trying to shove your face in her pussy, you roll with it. "Ah! Of course! How're we doing on time?" Marina looks at her phone. "We have ten minutes, but I guess we could take off now - no harm in being a little earlier than expected." She blushes as you make eye contact. You've clearly been underestimating the draw of what you are now. "When you put it that way," you say, "Why not? Let's hit the road!" You put a hand on Marina's shoulder, and the two of you exit the store, a flamboyant "Thank you!" following you out as the greenhouse-style door swings shut, and walk towards her car. [[Entering the car.]] <<set $marina to 2>>

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” You tilt your head down, and pout your lips. The two of you practically sprint out of the store, waving goodbye to the rushed “Thank you!” of coffee man as the door swings shut behind you. She leads you by the hand back into the office, mumbling facts about the equipment, breathing rapidly, as she takes you into the back, through a conference room, and into the allegedly amazing break room. As she turns, saying something about how it’s her favorite room and the skylights are wonderful or something, you can’t hold back - and you silence her trivial nonsense with a heavy, lustful kiss. Her lips feel soft, and tender, and she’s timid - like she’s intimidated by your attractiveness. But once your tongues meet, she starts pushing in, cupping your breast, her breathing heavy. She pulls away to smile, and say, “I’m glad you came in today.” <<if $bimbo is 2>> @@color:deeppink;“Oh,”@@ you giggle, licking your lips. @@color:deeppink;“I actually still need to cum today.”@@ You bounce your jiggling tits, and feel your bleached, thick hair slap against your perky ass. You were made for this. <<endif>> You lean into her, her lips parting again, and with your free hand, you reach under her dress. Moving it up her thigh - thick and firm - you reach her panties, and brush your nails against their edge. She closes her eyes, her breathing accelerating, as you stand, keeping her hand firmly on your tit, your nipple hard against her palm, and she begins to move it in gentle circles. Mmmm. You travel up from the edge of her panties, towards the center, finding a wet spot on the twin ridges your exploring hand discovers. You smile, your eyes closed, as your soft touch elicits a moan from her lips. You look at the woman you’re about to fuck. This isn’t so bad. Marina leans in, and pulls you closer, her other hand pulling you in by the neck, finding its way in through your draping hair to rest on your skin, warm and welcome. Her nose rubs against yours, your eyes still locked, and she closes them, her lashes brushing your cheeks. She smells like oranges. You feel her lips brush against yours, and you kiss her again, deeper, feeling the need behind her succulent lips. You press into her body as you start pulling down her panties beneath her dress. <<if $bimbo is 2>> You break the lip-lock, looking into her eyes as you giggle, and lick her spit off your love pillows, your tongue barely long enough to reach the edges of your plump, swollen lips. You take her hand from your breast, and place it over your hungry tunnel. You press her hand into your skirt. “Wow,” Marina whispers. “I can feel how wet you are through your skirt.” You giggle again, tossing your platinum hair around as you playfully bite her earlobe, and whisper back, @@color:deeppink;“I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.”@@ You push her hand down more, and moan at the pressure. @@color:deeppink;“Nggggh.”@@ <<else>> As you continue to make out, Marina steps out of her soaking underwear, and you slide your hand back up to her mound, running your fingers over her lower lips. She leans back, breaking the kiss. “Oh,” she murmurs.”Oh!” You run the pad of your pointer around the top of her cleft until you find a little bump that makes her jolt. “MMMmm right there, $fname.” She looks back into your eyes, and smiles dreamily. “I can’t believe how hot you are.” You laugh. “Look at yourself,” you whisper, and start rubbing her clit, using your new knowledge of the button’s sensitivity. Marina gasps, and starts removing your shirt, freeing her hand from your grasp. <<endif>> <<if $bimbo is 2>> @@color:deeppink;[[Marina smiles, and pushes you onto the table.->marinascene1]]@@ <<else>> [[She pulls the shirt over your head, blinding you, and you both fall.->marinascene2]] <<endif>> <<set $sexcount to $sexcount + 1>>

It’s not a large table, and your legs hang off the side, but Marina has a solution, putting your calves on her shoulders. You laugh, and clap your hands. You know what’s about to happen. You lean your head back, your blonde hair flowing off the edge of the table. You feel your skirt being rolled all the way up, and hot breath on your inner thighs as Marina moves closer and closer towards you, until your upper thighs are now resting on her shoulders. She must be close, and you’re tired of waiting. @@color:deeppink;“Maaarrinaa,”@@ you moan. @@color:deeppink;“I’m soooo wet,”@@ you mewl with a giggle. You hear a soft voice whisper from between your legs, “You sure are,” and then a finger brushes against your dripping lips. @@color:deeppink;“MMMmmmm. Yeah. I want to feel your tongue,”@@ you say, the slutty side of your personality taking hold. Marina laughs, and you feel the tip of her nose rub your clit. “You want to feel…my tongue, $fname?” she teases. Ugh! You want this sooo much, and the teasing makes you squirm. @@color:deeppink;“Plllleassse, Marina. I’ll return the favor.”@@ “Well - when you put it that way,” she says mischeviously. Then, instantaneously, you feel her tongue dancing around your vagina. Oh, god. You revel in the warmth and skill. She’s done this before. Fuccckkk. <<if $hadsexwithclaire is 1>> She’s even better than Claire was <<endif>> You start to buck as she grabs your hips and pushes her face into you, her hot, wet tongue performing a symphony on your sensitive organs. Curling up to look at your partner, you watch her lovely brunette hair bobbing at your junk, highlights glimmering in the light from the sky. She’s removed her glasses, and looks up at you, and looking into her eyes makes you scream a little. She’s just sooo cute! You vocalize the thought - not many are going through your head right now. @@color:deeppink;“Oooh you’re sooo cute!”@@ She giggles into your clit, but only keeps working. She’s not stopping until you’ve gotten what you need. As the symphony keeps building, the tempo rising, you feel the notes starting to hit harder and harder as the concerto amps up, and you start to climax. @@color:deeppink;“Oooh. I’m almost there! Marina, I’m almost there!”@@ Your words are slurring - you’re fading into the fog, warm and comfy and spasming. A series of staccato notes marks the final sequence - and you cum - forte - screaming as your brain explodes and your legs twitch. @@color:deeppink;“NNnggghhh.”@@ As the music of cunnilingus ends, and Marina leans over you to lock mouths with you again, you smile into the kiss. @@color:deeppink;“Hey Marina?”@@ you say, giggling. “Yeah, $fname?” she whispers softly. @@color:deeppink;[[It’s my turn.->marinascene1.1]]@@

You perch yourself on her chest, your ass splayed on her breasts, her trapped underneath you. You toss your hair over your shoulder, clearing the way to look over it and behind you, at Marina. Her lovely brunette hair is haloed around her head. Her glasses are off too, and she looks up at you. Looking into her eyes makes you scream internally. She’s just too cute! You smile at the girl. She makes a satisfied noise, like a person who's just had a good meal. Which, you guess, she has. Slapping your butt like it's a pair of bongos, she says, "Well. That was fun. We probably have to get going if we're going to make the wedding, though." "Oh," you exclaim. "Right." You bite your lip, and give her a seductive look. "Something made me forget all about that for a moment." She laughs, and throw you off of her. You also forgot how light you were, and you spoon her, playing with her smaller but fun little tits. "I guess we could go," you say, and you get up. You don't really want to run against Claire - and you're guessing she might be a little miffed, to say the least, if you don't do the job. Marina stands, and finds her panties. You've kind of destroyed yours, and you readjust the rest of your clothes, and toss the smelly, soaking pair in the trash while Marina's back is turned. She's looking at her phone - and curses. "Shit!" "What?" you ask, genuinely concerned. "We should've left thirty minutes ago. I'm going to have to book it!" she says, still smiling, and after you've straightened yourselves out, she pulls you towards the door. "This way, $fname! We've got a mission!" [[Entering the car.]] <<set $need to 0>> <<set $marina to 5>>

Marina awakes a minute later, making a satisfied noise, like a person who's just had a good meal. Which, you guess, she has. She licks your pussy softly, saying, "Well. That was fun. We probably have to get going if we're going to make the wedding, though." @@color:deeppink;"Oh,"@@ you exclaim. @@color:deeppink;"Right."@@ You bite your lip, and give her a seductive look as she sits up and looks at you over her shoulder. @@color:deeppink;"Something made me forget all about that for a moment!”@@ She laughs, and gets off of you, and pulls you up. You also forgot how light you were, and you press into her, playing with her smaller but fun little tits. @@color:deeppink;"I guuuuess we could go,"@@ you say, and kiss her needfully. You don't really want to run against Claire - and you're guessing she might be a little miffed, to say the least, if you don't do the job. But ugh. Sex is sooo good in this body. You love it, and want more. Your reservations are disappearing. Marina stands, and finds her panties. You've kind of destroyed yours, and you readjust the rest of your clothes, and toss the smelly, soaking pair in the trash while Marina's back is turned. She's looking at her phone - and curses. "Shit!" "What?" you ask, genuinely concerned, your mental faculties starting to return. "We should've left thirty minutes ago. I'm going to have to speed!" she says, still smiling, and after you've straightened yourselves out, she pulls you towards the door. "This way, $fname! We've got a mission!" [[Entering the car.]] <<set $need to 2>> <<set $marina to 6>>

<<if $marina is 2>> You blink. "Yeah. I had feelings like that when I met you.” She opens her mouth, clearly aroused, and lets out a funny little noise of excitement mixed with anticipation. "Oh!” She’s at a loss for words. You decide to help her out. You’re already pulling at her skirt by the time she notes your hand snaking over, and she grabs the invader. “Wait, $fname! I’m driving!” She laughs. You laugh. You reach over again. "You don't have to do anything. Just focus on the road! I promise,” you say, giving her a sultry look, “We won’t crash.” She looks over at you, green eyes twinkling, and smiles nervously - pleased but unwilling to reveal it. “What’re you even going to do?” As a response, you unbuckle your seatbelt, making sure not to get your long, wavy brunette hair caught in the belt as it snaps back, and you scoot your big ass over. “I’m going to show you how I feel when I think about you,” you whisper, and she gasps. "Oh, $fname. I wanted you the moment you stepped into the store. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You’ll take the compliment. No need to worry about the gender stuff right now. You resolve to make this girl feel everything. All at once. She looks to the side, and then back to you. “I’m kinda nervous though - I’ve never fooled around while driving before.” <<else>> You blink. "Yeah. I had feelings like that when I met you.” She opens her mouth, clearly aroused, and lets out a funny little noise of excitement mixed with anticipation. "Oh, $fname!” She’s at a loss for words. You decide to help her out. You’re already pulling at her skirt by the time she notes your hand snaking over, and she grabs the invader. “Wait, $fname! I’m driving!” She laughs. You laugh. You reach over again. "You don't have to do anything. Just focus on the road! I promise,” you say, giving her a sultry look, “We won’t crash. I happen to already know,” you coo, touching her thigh, “where I’m going.” She looks over at you, green eyes twinkling, and smiles nervously - pleased but unwilling to reveal it. “What’re you even going to do?” As a response, you unbuckle your seatbelt, making sure not to get your long, wavy brunette hair caught in the belt as it snaps back, and you scoot your big ass over. “I’m going to show you how I feel when I think about you,” you whisper, and she gasps. “I think I’ve felt that before,” she winks, “and I kinda liked it. Not everyday the most beautiful girl comes into the studio and fucks me like that.” You’ll take the compliment. No need to worry about the gender stuff right now. You resolve to make this girl feel everything. All at once. She looks to the side, and then back to you. “I’m kinda nervous though - I’ve never fooled around while driving before.” <<endif>> You thrust your hand into place like a snake, knowing instinctively where her buzzer is, and start fondling it. She gasps, and you huskily retort, “You love it.” You start fingering her almost immediately - she was already pretty ready for you, even before contact. She struggles to keep her eyes open all the way as you play her pussy like it’s goddamn Bejeweled on your phone. You feel it every time she moans. You laugh every time she gasps. This is one hell of a girl. You zone out for a minute, thinking about what you’d do to her if you still had your dick, imaging the amazing sex you could have, and when you come back in, she’s near the brink of orgasm, barely suspended above the giant, all-encompassing pit of pleasure by a thin rope of control. You realize you have four fingers in her. Sure, your hand’s not big, but four? You’re getting reckless. You decide to change things up, and lean over her lap, tucking under her arms. “Gghh. $fname? What…uhhh….what are you doing?” “Changing tactics, Marina.” You stick your tongue out between your fat lips like you’re mocking someone, and attack her. Your tongue severs her rope. She starts cumming, hard, and you feel the car slide all over the place, as you bounce between her thighs, slurping her pussy and laughing as she swerves. The second wave hits, and Marina does an emergency stop, putting her hands on your head, winding through your voluminous tresses, as you pull her deeper and deeper into the pit, noises coming out of the blackness - moans. Howls. Cries. She’s loving this, and you can’t think of any sound better than the pleasure screams of a woman. Oddly, you make those too now. Food for thought. You look up as her cries wind down, and pull out, wiping off your mouth and carefully kissing her, trying not to get her own fem-cum on her face. “Jesus, $fname. I almost crashed,” Marina says, laughing, clearly not actually concerned. “Too bad! Then we could just stay here all day!” You say as you lick your lips. You move back into your seat, licking your fingers like miniature popsicles - you don’t want to be sticky, after all, and Marina slides her panties back into place, fixing her dress, and turns the car back on. There’s not much left of the trip, but you talk about sex positions, and Marina has a slew of them she says are fun for two girls. You’re excited to try them, and take mental notes. You may not be onboard with this transformation. You may not like the hoops. You may still be terrified for what’s to come. But Marina has given you a little security today. She’s a downright nice girl, and this - even though its not your body - was a hell of a time. You’d love to find her again. You’re shaken out of your fantasy-based little conversation as the car slows to a halt on a gravel surface, the stones grinding underneath the wheels. “We’re here!” Marina says with enthusiasm! [[You step out of the car.]]

You sit in silence for the remainder of the car ride. You twiddle your thumbs. Play with your hair. Contemplate how completely fucked this entire situation is. You know, girl stuff. As the radio plays, you wonder why Claire is sending you to a wedding. Why does she want you photographing it? You feel very paranoid, but hell - the girl took away your penis - you have a goddamn right to be paranoid. You can’t help but be creeped out by how much you’re normalizing to this situation. You aren’t surprised anymore when you see your hair or tits. It’s all just…your body, now. You very clearly remember your old one - but this one doesn’t feel wrong or strange or alien. It’s yours, it’s functional…it’s kind of fun. You’re shaken out of your introspective little trip as the car slows to a halt on a gravel surface, the stones grinding underneath the wheels. “We’re here!” Marina says with genuine enthusiasm. Finally. Maybe she’ll cheer up since she’s so obsessed with weddings or something. I mean, you assume she is. She works at a wedding photography studio. [[You step out of the car.]]

You don’t know exactly what to apologize for. She doesn’t know you. You could just be like this regularly. Still, you know that if you don’t do anything - this is gonna be a frosty trip. You turn in your seat, and go with a tried and true classic. The excuse. Bringing your phone up, you trigger a text tone in the sound menu. “Ugh!” you exclaim. “Finally!” Marina looks over, lacking context and confused. “What’s up?” she asks. “My idiot landlord has been, like, trying to screw me out of two thousand dollars because he didn’t install the tub in the bathroom right, and it leaked through the floor. He was saying it was all my fault, and if I didn’t pay he was gonna call the cops and all this bullshit,” you sigh, exaggeratedly, “but he finally gave up on his little scheme and said he’d fix my floors. I hate this guy. Oh! I’m sorry if I seemed a little cold or something, ya know, I was just a little distracted by this whole thing…” You give an apologetic smile, batting your eyes, and shrug, sticking out your tits. Marina blushes. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it!” Her eyes dart quickly to your ample breasts and you realize that they have some serious manipulative perks, even if they are heavy and in your way. “I hate my super too. He thinks just because I’m a woman I don’t know the difference between a sink that has broken and a sink that’s installed improperly.” “Yeah. Sexist men. They are the worst,” you groan, finding your footing in an alien conversation. “Tell me about it.” The two of you start talking about all the asshole men in your lives - yours being characters from a lot of high school television series with names and looks changed - and bond over the difficulties of life as a woman. You have to say, you’re starting to understand the level of sexism that pervades every interaction. She tells you stories, expecting you to have the same experiences, that you never would’ve expected a woman has every day. Jesus. You’re not looking forward to cat calls or bus harassment. This is fucked up. You’ve gotta get this shit done so you can go back to the ignorant teen you were. You’re shaken out of your introspective little talk as the car slows to a halt on a gravel surface, the stones grinding underneath the wheels. “We’re here!” Marina says with genuine enthusiasm, a lot brighter now that you seem to be friends. “Let’s go to a wedding!” <<set $marina to 7>> [[You step out of the car.]]

"Oh. That's too bad," she replies, clearly a little saddened by your response. "No! It's OK! I'm just a little more reserved than that!" You say - and it's the truth. You've never been one to jump into things that have actual emotional consequences. Feelings come late for you. You try to change the subject, not wanting to provoke a conversation about your love life - it's a little weird not matching the gender of your stories - and figure you can pull out an old trick. Bringing your phone up, you trigger a text tone in the sound menu. “Ugh!” you exclaim. “Finally!” Marina looks over, lacking context and confused. “What’s up?” she asks. “My idiot landlord has been, like, trying to screw me out of two thousand dollars because he didn’t install the tub in the bathroom right, and it leaked through the floor. He was saying it was all my fault, and if I didn’t pay he was gonna call the cops and all this bullshit,” you sigh, exaggeratedly, “but he finally gave up on his little scheme and said he’d fix my floors. I hate this guy." "Oh my god! That's the worst! I hate my super too. He thinks just because I’m a woman I don’t know the difference between a sink that has broken and a sink that’s installed improperly.” “Yeah. Sexist men. They are the worst,” you groan, finding your footing in an alien conversation. You didn't think this would take this direction, but you're a woman now. Temporarily. You're a woman temporarily. Gotta watch those qualifiers. “Tell me about it.” The two of you start talking about all the asshole men in your lives - yours being characters from a lot of high school television series with names and looks changed - and bond over the difficulties of life as a woman. You have to say, you’re starting to understand the level of sexism that pervades every interaction. She tells you stories, expecting you to have the same experiences, that you never would’ve expected a woman has every day. Jesus. You’re not looking forward to cat calls or bus harassment. This is fucked up. You’ve gotta get this shit done so you can go back to the ignorant teen you were. You’re shaken out of your introspective little talk as the car slows to a halt on a gravel surface, the stones grinding underneath the wheels. “We’re here!” Marina says with genuine enthusiasm. [[You step out of the car.]]

<<if $marina is 2>> You blink. @@color:deeppink;"Yeah. I had feelings like that when I met you. I want to make you,"@@ you put a finger in your mouth, lubing it up, @@color:deeppink;"reeeaaaallly happy, Marina."@@ She opens her mouth, clearly aroused, and lets out a funny little noise of excitement mixed with anticipation. "Oh my god." You’re already pulling at her skirt by the time she's done with her small prayer, and she grabs your wandering hand. “Wait, $fname! I’m driving!” She laughs. You laugh. You reach over again. @@color:deeppink;"You don't have to do anything. Just focus on the road!"@@ She looks over at you, green eyes twinkling, and smiles nervously - pleased but unwilling to reveal it. “What’re you even going to do?” As a response, you unbuckle your seatbelt, making sure not to get your long, shiny blonde hair caught in the belt as it snaps back, and you scoot your big ass over. @@color:deeppink;“I’m going to, uh, make your job more fun?”@@ You bumble, and she laughs. "Oooh I'm kind of nervous - I've never fooled around while driving before." <<else>> You’re already pulling at her skirt by the time your decision is made, and she slaps your hand away. “No, $fname! I’m driving!” She laughs. You laugh. You reach over again. She rolls her eyes, and looks at you - pleased but unwilling to reveal it. “What’re you even going to do?” As a response, you unbuckle your seatbelt, making sure not to get your long, shiny blonde hair caught in the belt as it snaps back, and you scoot your big ass over. @@color:deeppink;“I’m going to, uh, make your job more fun?”@@ You bumble, and she snorts. “God. You’re such a nympho.” <<endif>> You thrust your hand into place like a snake, knowing instinctively where her buzzer is, and start fondling it. She gasps, and you huskily retort, @@color:deeppink;“You love it.”@@ You start fingering her almost immediately - she was already pretty ready for you, even before contact. She struggles to keep her eyes open all the way as you play her pussy like it’s goddamn Bejeweled on your phone. You giggle every time she moans. You bounce every time she gasps. This is just sooo much fun! You zone out for a minute, thinking about…other things…and when you come back in, she’s near the brink of orgasm, barely suspended above the giant, all-encompassing pit of pleasure by a thin rope of control. You realize you have four fingers in her. Sure, your hand’s not big, but four? You’re getting reckless. You decide to change things up, and lean over her lap, tucking under her arms. “Gghh. $fname? What…uhhh….what are you doing?” You don’t have time to talk. Silly Marina. You stick your tongue out between your fat lips like you’re mocking someone, and attack her. Your tongue severs her rope. She starts humming, hard, and you feel the car slide all over the place, as you bounce between her thighs, slurping her pussy and laughing as she swerves. The second wave hits, and Marina does an emergency stop, putting her hands on your head, winding through your blonde tresses, as you pull her deeper and deeper into the pit, noises coming out of the blackness - moans. Howls. Cries. She’s loving this, and you can’t think of anything better than making her happy. This is what you were meant to do. You giggle as her cries wind down, and pull up, messily kissing her, spreading her own fem-cum on her face. “Jesus, $fname. I almost crashed,” Marina says, laughing, clearly not actually concerned. @@color:deeppink;“Too bad! Then we could just stay here all day!”@@ You say as you lick your lips. You move back into your seat, licking your fingers like miniature popsicles, and Marina slides her panties back into place, fixing her dress, and turns the car back on. There’s not much left of the trip, but you talk about sex positions, and Marina has a slew of them she says are fun for two girls. You’re excited to try them, and take mental notes. This woman thing was kinda scary at first but you’re coming around. You just feel so…@@color:deeppink;fuckable and bubbly!@@ You’re shaken out of your fantasy-based little conversation as the car slows to a halt on a gravel surface, the stones grinding underneath the wheels. “We’re here!” Marina says with enthusiasm! [[You step out of the car.]]

<<set $bimbo to 2>> [["Oooh. That sounds great. But I could really use some coffee - is there a place nearby?"]]

Looking up as the you carefully close the door, a small breeze lifts and carries autumn-colored leaves through the air in front of you, the smell of pine and fresh grass and a hint of vanilla making a bright smile flash on your <<if $bimbo lt 2>> flushed lips. <<else>> @@color:deeppink; fat cock-suckers. <<endif>> you flip your <<if $bimbo lt 2>> hair, shining in the golden sun, <<else>> @@color:deeppink; platinum curtain, draping down to your fuckable ass, <<endif>> over your shoulders, brushing it out of your eyes. The nature is stunning, and the <<if $bimbo lt 2>> confusing, intoxicating hardhips of the day<<else>> @@color:deeppink; invading pink haze pushing imaginary cocks into your slightly drooling lips <<endif>> slips away for a moment. You unconsciously twirl in the god rays shining through the trees. <<if $marina gt 1>> Marina laughs, marveling at the site of you.<<else>>Marina shuts the car door loudly, glancing at you quickly.<<endif>> You walk around the hood towards the dark wood and floral arch marking the path to whatever magical place you’ve arrived at, lugging the camera bag which is tearing at your bra strap, pulling up your <<if $bimbo lt 2>> right breast <<else>> @@color:deeppink; massive cleavage like a pair of bobbling pink-tipped balloons.<<endif>> Marina walks around the car, sighing. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" <<if $marina is 1>> She seems to be warming up in the afternoon light, the nature soothing the dickish moves you've made. <<endif>> <<if $marina is 5 or 3>> [[Slip your hand around her waist as she comes close, and pull her in for a kiss]] <<endif>> <<if $marina is 4 or 6>> [[Sidle up, turn her head, and look pleadingly into her eyes. You're wet again.]] <<endif>> <<if $bimbo lt 2>> [[Yes, it is, you sigh in response.]] [[Cough and nod. You're not quite back to appreciating natural splendor yet.]] <<else>> [[Giggle and clap. You love it! Look at the pretty lights in the trees.]] <<endif>>

Double-click this passage to edit it.

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

That's it! Check out the changelog to see new content. [[CHANGELOG]]

As you try to make a half-hearted effort, enjoying the building wave of tingling, hot feeling that’s emanating from your new lower region, the man’s hands shift, and in a blur, you’re on your back, being pulled up by strong hands towards his chest, your hair bouncing against your red, fingerprinted ass. You feel him reenter you with a gasp, even quicker. As you grab at his back, uncertain but enjoying, suspended in the air by a light grip and a heavy cock, he starts bouncing you. You’re face to face as you get fucked. He’s looking at you with a mixture of domination and caring, you’re looking at him as if you’ve just discovered heroin. You can feel yourself being pulled apart as you pull yourself tighter to his chiseled body, enjoying the bumps and ridges waaaay more than you thought you ever could. He’s palming your ass like an oversized basketball, dribbling you up and down as your toes start to curl, and you scream with an open mouth, until he pushes into it. You lash tongues, holding the back of his neck with pointed, long fingernails digging in. You like the taste of his mouth. Moving your hands up his neck to his hair, you fight for more sensations. His hair is short and you enjoy the feel of running your hands against the grain, as you cross your legs on the other side of the massive mountain that’s inside you. Something in you gives, and you feel the man tense up. You open your eyes, brushing your dusky lashes against his cheeks, and you see his face change. His cock feels harder than ever inside you, and you can feel it pulse, like a dubstep song about to drop. You smile as you ride the wave of his vibrating dick, cresting on your own wave, biting his lip until you draw a little blood. He grunts. You cry. “aaaaaaAAAHHHH!!!” Blank. Your mind goes blank. All you can feel is a warmth seeping through you, up from your pussy and into you, like a much, MUCH more pleasurable version of drinking warm tea on a cool day. It permeates your entire existence, as you fall backwards onto the bed, the man opening his arms and letting you fall to be enveloped by the white sea that emulates the state of your mind. You sprawl amongst the ripples you’ve created on the sheets as you twitch and spasm, barely aware of the liquid shooting from you, as you cum all over the damn place. The man laughs in a sub-stereo sound you barely register, scooting away. You bite your finger, holding onto the feeling with kagel effort, a word escaping your soft lips wet with another’s saliva. [[“Mmmhhhmm. Cock.”]]

As the world starts fading back in, you hear a laugh as the man moves out of your vision, which starts to unblur. You’re aware of a great many things as the train of all-encompassing orgasm begins to pull away from the station, much to your disapproval. You feel a wetness on your legs. A hot sludge in a place you don’t recognize. Your ass is sore, but in a nice way. The man is already putting his clothes back on, and you make a pouty face as he pulls on his underwear, hiding his thick dick from your view. You scratch your head as some of your confusion about this whole situation returns, and you remember - just a little - that you don’t know what the fuck is going on, and you didn’t have this appreciation for penis a moment ago. Doesn’t stop you from giggling when he pulls it out and says, “say goodbye” to a flirty wave from your dainty hands that had been wrapped around that thing like it was the edge of a cliff you were falling off. As you sit up, adjusting your breasts and posing sexily, you ponder. You don’t know why he’s leaving. You don’t even know his name. You have … weird feelings about him. Sexual ones. Other ones you remember from past relationships. It’s not comfortable, and you frown a little. “Don’t be like that,” he smiles as he pulls on his socks. He’s noticed your confusion and apparently interpreted it as sadness he’s going. “I have work! I really only stopped by because I forgot my lunch. It’s been an hour - I have to go, babe.” An hour? You take your mind back. You can’t tell how many positions you actually did - the only two that stood out were the entrance and the exit - you feel like you zoned out, blank like a sex doll, while he used you like a sock. You giggle nervously, biting your lip, at how fucked up this is. Apparently you giggle when you’re confused and overwhelmed now. You pull your extremely long hair behind you, brushing it out of your face, as the man, now fully dressed, leans in and kisses you. You don’t resist. It’s intense, and you try to push your face into his, breath hot, rapid, and hungry. Are you trying to make him fuck you again? Seriously? [[Paw at his dick, and bite his lip a ‘lil]] [[What? No! I’m in control! Pull back!]] [[…Maaaaybe. Stick with the kiss - unless he takes it further.]]

You’re fondling his cock, and you can feel it stirring in your tiny palm, running the pads of your fingers up and down the length of his shaft under his pants. You smile and giggle into his face, mouth open suggestively, eyes wide in a faux innocent, I-would do-anything, style come-on. You can’t help but feel like you shouldn’t have. You wanted to, though. And you know it. You know you shouldn’t want it but, my god, you want him inside you again. As he takes a step backwards, away from your stroking hand you internally struggle with the dichotomy of feelings. He’s going away! Your hand follows his dick and you flop forward onto the bed to try and keep your hand pressed against it. He brushes your hair behind your ear as you roll over, tits flowing around you, as you stare up and spread your legs. “Fuck me more!” you find the words leaving your mouth in a cute request. He laughs, and walks away. You watch as he walks, staring at his ass, biting your lip until you realize you’re ogling him. It looks like he actually intends to go to work. He picks up a bag you didn’t notice in the corner he must’ve set down before breaking your pussy, and smiles at you. “I was so glad to find you here - like that - I thought you had work?” You don’t know what to say. You’re still so horny and you don’t even know who you’re supposed to be So you giggle and deepthroat your fingers. Damn it, you think. It’s so…slutty. He laughs, enchanted with your sensual femininity as you bounce to the edge of the bed on your bubble butt. “Bye, Babe!” He says as he walks out the door. “Bye…babe?” you say loudly, until it fades as you wonder what the fuck you’re doing. You stand, naked, smelling of sex and cum until you hear the door downstairs close, your own secretions..and his…dripping down your thick, athletic legs. [[What now?]]

You breaks the kiss. You can’t help but feel like you shouldn’t have. You didn’t want to. And you know it. As he takes a step backwards, you internally struggle with the dichotomy of feelings. Both afraid and anxious for a sudden move by the man, you watch as he walks, staring at his ass, biting your lip until you realize you’re ogling him. It looks like he actually intends to go to work. He picks up a bag you didn’t notice in the corner he must’ve set down before breaking your pussy, and smiles at you. “I was so glad to find you here - like that - I thought you had work?” You don’t know what to say. So you giggle. Damn it, you think. It’s so…girlish. He laughs, enchanted with your femininity as you bounce to the edge of the bed on your bubble butt. “Bye, Babe!” He says as he walks out the door. “Bye…babe?” you say loudly, until it fades as you wonder what the fuck you’re doing. You stand, naked, smelling of sex and cum until you hear the door downstairs close, your own secretions..and his…dripping down your thick, athletic legs. [[What now?]]

He breaks the kiss. You can’t help but feel disappointed. As he takes a step backwards, you internally struggle with the dichotomy of feelings. Well, looks like he actually intends to go to work. He picks up a bag you didn’t notice in the corner he must’ve set down before breaking your pussy, and smiles at you. “I was so glad to find you here - like that - I thought you had work?” You don’t know what to say. So you giggle. Damn it, you think. It’s so…girlish. He laughs, enchanted with your femininity as you bounce to the edge of the bed on your bubble butt. “Bye, Babe!” He says as he walks out the door. “Bye…babe?” you say loudly, until it fades as you wonder what the fuck you’re doing. You stand, naked, smelling of sex and cum until you hear the door downstairs close, your own secretions..and his…dripping down your thick, athletic legs. [[What now?]]

You find yourself staring back into the mirror in the room. This time, you don’t see a stranger. The events of the last few…hours…have definitely had an effect on your psyche, especially in regards to who exactly you are. And that scares the shit out of you. Looking at your hot-mess body, you run your hands down your sweat-slicked thighs. You gotta clean up. You smell like heady cum. It’s making you dizzy. You reach down to catch the load that’s dripping its way out of you, snagging it on the tips of your long fingernails and putting the white goo in your mouth. Mmmmmm. What the fuck are you doing? You swallow before the revulsion causes you to question. The fuck? You let out a little scream and dance around. Did you just eat cum? Like not even in a blowjob. You just ate cum like a fucking snack. The fuck? THE FUCK? You run to the bathroom and turn the water on as cold as it gets, and dive in. Your hair is matted to your back by the water, your sweat sluicing off your skin, your mind returning in clarity. You still feel comfortable in this body - something you recognize as dangerous - but you’re you again. No urge to get fucked. No need for cock. You sit there. It’s time to make a plan. [[You need to leave this house, and find out what happened to you.]] [[You need to find out who’s house this is…And who you are now.]]

You turn the shower off, still sitting. A little bit of the heat making you horny returns - but it’s quiet in comparison to the flood that was occupying you like the german army before. You dry off with a plush blue towel hanging on the rack, and look into the mirror. A small makeup bag is sitting on the counter, and unconsciously, you reach for it. You fade out for a moment - and come back in to a perfectly made up face. Striking eyeshadow. Thick lips. A perfect contour on your cheeks. Kim K would be proud, and you pucker your lips before shaking your head, whipping your hair - which has now been combed and lightly curled - around your face. God damnnit. You’re apparently a very put-together woman. You wrap the towel around your breasts, and step back into the room where you were fucked like a bitch in heat. You smile as you see the trail of wetness you left when you walked into the bathroom. You don’t even feel disgusted - you feel a little proud. You're very naked beneath the towel, though, and think that in this situation, your nakedness is a little bit of an obstacle - even clothed, walking outside looking like you look now is probably a risky move. You look around the room, for anything that might cover you. There’s the elegant lingerie. You see a door, blended in, to the wall – it must be a closet. Walking over, you find a sparse set of clothes, mostly men’s shirts and suits. There’s no way they would fit your extremely un-masculine frame. Back in the main room, you stumble over to the dresser, your breasts bouncing in their terrycloth container. In it, you find nothing but men’s clothes, socks and boxers and sweats. You ascertain that you’re not living with this man - the small makeup bag and the absence of a drawer or woman’s clothes seems to confirm that you’re an overnight guest. You remember your feelings toward the man, and conclude you’re a frequent visitor. Moving back to the bed, you grab the lingerie, at least hoping to be covered in the bare minimum, for now. The open air sliding up the towel and brushing breezily against your pussy was a little…overstimulating. Sliding the panties up your legs, you marvel at how soft and nice they feel, getting a little more wet as they rub against your vagina, a tiny gasp escaping your painted lips. The bra takes a little struggling, you falling onto the bed, still damp from your workout, your ass jiggling, but you manage to click the clasp in the back shut. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, unconsciously adjusting your hair to fall on the white cups of the bra, the contrast making you look defined and shaped. It’s a pretty sexy set of underwear, you think, doing a little spin, and you feel a twinge in your vagina looking at yourself. You quickly look away, cheeks flushing red, as you resist the temptation to fall back into your own appearance. You’ve got to have some clothes somewhere. But you’ve checked this room and the bathroom pretty thoroughly - it’s time to venture into the house. [[Maybe there’s some clothes out there.]] <<set $look to 14>>

You turn the shower off, still sitting. A little bit of the heat making you horny returns - but it’s quiet in comparison to the flood that was occupying you like the german army before. You dry off with a plush blue towel hanging on the rack, and look into the mirror. A small makeup bag is sitting on the counter, and unconsciously, you reach for it. You fade out for a moment - and come back in to a perfectly made up face. Striking eyeshadow. Thick lips. A perfect contour on your cheeks. Kim K would be proud, and you pucker your lips before shaking your head, whipping your hair - which has now been combed and lightly curled - around your face. God damnnit. You’re apparently a very put-together woman. You wrap the towel around your breasts, and step back into the room where you were fucked like a bitch in heat. You smile as you see the trail of wetness you left when you walked into the bathroom. You don’t even feel disgusted - you feel a little proud. You're very naked beneath the towel, though, and think that in this situation, your nakedness is a little bit of an disadvantage - In case your man…fuck. The man comes back, you should probably have something on to make it a little more challenging to get inside you again. You look around the room, for anything that might cover you. There’s the elegant lingerie. You see a door, blended in, to the wall – it must be a closet. Walking over, you find a sparse set of clothes, mostly men’s shirts and suits. There’s no way they would fit your extremely un-masculine frame. Back in the main room, you stumble over to the dresser, your breasts bouncing in their terrycloth container. In it, you find nothing but men’s clothes, socks and boxers and sweats. You ascertain that you’re not living with this man - the small makeup bag and the absence of a drawer or woman’s clothes seems to confirm that you’re an overnight guest. You remember your feelings toward the man, and conclude you’re a frequent visitor. Moving back to the bed, you grab the lingerie, at least hoping to be covered in the bare minimum, for now. The open air sliding up the towel and brushing breezily against your pussy was a little…overstimulating. Sliding the panties up your legs, you marvel at how soft and nice they feel, getting a little more wet as they rub against your vagina, a tiny gasp escaping your painted lips. The bra takes a little struggling, you falling onto the bed, still damp from your workout, your ass jiggling, but you manage to click the clasp in the back shut. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, unconsciously adjusting your hair to fall on the white cups of the bra, the contrast making you look defined and shaped. It’s a pretty sexy set of underwear, you think, doing a little spin, and you feel a twinge in your vagina looking at yourself. You quickly look away, cheeks flushing red, as you resist the temptation to fall back into your own appearance. You’ve got to have some clothes somewhere. But you’ve checked this room and the bathroom pretty thoroughly - it’s time to venture into the house. [[Maybe there’s some clothes out there.->Clothes out there 2]] <<set $look to 14>>

[[AAAAANNNNNDDD until next time.]]

New Content | March 14th, 2018 <ul> <li>[[Claire's Story has progressed a small amount.->To Nico's.]] Welcome to the orchard.</li> <li>Biggest Progression is to the Liquor Store. [[Follow your friend(s) in and see where it takes you!->Will goes]] </li> <li>There's new art (real, commissioned art) in the path above (liqour store). More art will follow as I decide to get it. Super high quality stuff, really cool!</li> </ul> Wordcount as of this new version is 82,814.