Transformation World: Bimbos

Another commission about having someone's body changed in a world where transformations are surprisingly common. Might be a few of these coming, some set in the same world, since the buyer's sort of always got me on call and the stories are shorter and looser than a lot of the others.

For all that happened in James’ world, things there weren’t dangerous so much as they were mildly annoying. Compared to other situations where clashing superhumans, vengeful fairies, cursed objects, radioactive waste, and mad science would have killed most people, these things just ended up changing people in other forms. The radioactive waste made you a mutant shark instead of giving you cancer. The fairy cursed you to turn into a monkey. Getting struck by lightning made you able to talk to computers and alien technology turned you into a cyborg. Most people came out of these strange ordeals about the same. Sometimes things were even better, because you were talking to computers or an olympic-level swimmer with your shark mutations. Things just managed to work out for the better, if not the strange.

So people were more surprised than truly afraid when Plain Jane crashed through the window of his office building with her grappling hook. The supervillainess wore her usual mask of a ridiculously minimalist mask (two dots and a barely larger mouth slit). Rather than the usual spandex, she wore unflatteringly loose clothes that made it clear she had some kind of body image issues.

In case it weren't clear enough, she pulled out the canister from the cloak that went over her frumpy sweater. "You superficial sheep of America!" she shouted as she popped the cap off the cylinder. It started leaking pink gas immediately, which her mask must have shielded her from somehow. "If you want to be shallow fakes, then see how it is to be objectified yourselves! Mwahaha!"

Although Plain couldn't really sell the evil laugh that well, James was at least alert enough to bolt from the potential explosive. His boss was near the blast, snorting and shaking his head as he drank his coffee. The 50 year old man had already been turned into a 10 year old girl a few years ago, so he knew where this was going. "Had to be on a Monday," he sighed in his cute little voice before the changes kicked in.

The seemingly little grunted and fell to his knees, coughing and clutching his chest. James peered around the corner of his cubicle and watched as the flat little girl's hands were suddenly launched out by her tits that grew to the size of volleyballs. His groans became moans as he shot up another foot or so, and short red hair grew out into long gold. His dress shoes clattered beneath him as they shot up into a set of high heels, and his butt sprang out at the same time as his slacks tightened and shortened into a mini skirt. Makeup sprang across the young face just before the nose grew thin and pronounced and the painted lips blew out like balloons before slurping back into huge but at least human-sized pouty lips. He tried to stand up, just to lurch unsteadily and clatter back to the floor when the high heels proved unsteady, letting him fall onto his huge fake tits with a comically plastic bouncing noise. Mr. Bradley had gone from looking like a ditzy human Barbie doll.

"Bimbo gas!" someone screamed. Everyone started to run and panic while James stayed low. He pulled his shirt over his mouth and hid out of sight while people fled and Plain Jane left out the window as she forget them and started doing battle with The Flyin' Hawaiian outside. James couldn't even hope to enjoy the fight scene as he saw more people collapsing while they ran past him. He hoped the shirt would filter the chemicals, or the cubicle would block the flow of the air. Maybe the window would suck it back out eventually. People were reaching the doors, just to find that Jane had barricaded them from the outside.

"Oh... ohmigawd!" James watched as Carol (the chubby lady from accounting) instantly shed about 100 pounds as it rolled over her body and piled into her ass and tits like some burrowing parasite. Eli from a few seats down collapsed right into the glass top of his cubicle, moaning as his tits burst out of his button-up shirt. His new jugs spread against the glass until the fabric of his shirt wrapped back around them as a cheetah print top.

Ultimately, James learned he couldn't escape his new body. He smelled the vaguely perfumed gas as his skin itches. It turned to a tan shade all the way down his arms until his fingernails turned bubblegum pink. His hips and chest expanded as his clothes stretched to stay tight on him. They went from business casual to streetwalker in their own transformation.

"Oh mo. Oh ban..." he muttered tensely. It was James' first transformation, and he'd often worried it would hurt, but it really just felt strange. Like he was made of rubber and it was harmlessly stretching him out (like Senor Fan-Plastico). He noticed his slurred words a moment later, reaching up to feel his lips puffed out like they were either injected with something or he had been stung in the mouth by a bee. By the time his breasts stopped growing, he had to slouch forward to deal with the weight. He gave them a quick pat down, and they were definitely huge and heavy. They were like two beach balls full of lead.

James finally looked across the aisle at the next pane of glass. Looking right back at him was the reflection of another bimbo, his face done up with bright and trashy makeup that didn't come off (or even smudge) when he wiped at it. His hair was now a candy apple red like a stripper would have dyed it to be.  His shoes were now open-toed high heels, and his dainty feet with painted nails seemed perfectly angled to fit into them. He was a bonafide bimbo alright. At least they'd probably get out of work early...

"So this is another effect of the gas?" one of the police officers asked. The police were always called in on these matters. They had everyone present ID's, so they could update their records about who was turned into who. It was part of the reason that supervillains were such an issue, because if anyone went unregistered when they changed, then nobody could tell who to blame or track when Crimeosaurus went on a rampage.

"No, I've been like this for years," Mary answered, breathing another puff of her cigarette and brushing aside her emo bangs. "I made fun of some goth witches in high school so I'm permagoth. It must not be compatible with bimbo gas, or something."

James sighed as he waited in line, leaning on one desk or another while he stumbled around in his heels. He just wanted to get done with this and get home. He had to take stock of what he was working with here, and maybe get out of these damn shoes. He was glad to find that he could tug on his outfit and the clothes and shoes slipped off normally, but he couldn't go around the office naked. Besides, if he got rid of the heels, he could always go shoe shopping!

That thought didn't really stand out as odd at the moment as the next officer called him over. The policeman's exposure to whatever curse or serum was clear by the comically huge bulge in his pants that he ignored entirely. James wished he had the wits about him to do the same, because he found himself staring with his mouth open witlessly. It just ended up with him falling flat on his silicone-padding front again when the heels went off balance.

"I'm babck," James reported as he tossed his keys onto the counter and kicked off the high heels at last. He had put on his jacket for the walk home, but his chest was so much bigger now that it couldn't close all the way. All it did was zip up below his jugs and push them upward.

"Rough day at work, huh?" Sam was watching tv in the living room. She just went by Sam, and it had seemed rude for James to ask if she was always a woman with short, smooth brown hair. She was clearly under some kind of curse, as one could see just from looking at her. She was watching tv practically upside down, gracefully balanced on one leg. The other was bent up over her shoulder while she arched her back backwards, the pink leotard and tutu accentuating her every delicate muscle in the impressive stretch. As long as you gave her some room for random dancing and posing, Sam was a pretty helpful roommate.

"Yup. Terroritht gasth. Now I loog like a slud. Ugh! How am I supposhed to talk wit dese wips?!"

"Try opening your mouth wider. Talk a little slower, maybe?" Sam offered. She broke out of her stretching pose, walking casually towards James before breaking into a perfect pirouette before she reached the kitchen.

"I'm... trying. Ah. That sucks. And I'm worried about why this mouth is so big." Opening his mouth wider than he thought he could did make it easier, but he had to talk a little slower as a result. His voice had changed to this high, slightly nasally squeak, so there wasn't much of a reason not to change his speech patterns already. "How did you get used to it?"

"The cursed tights?" Sam asked naturally. Of course people had asked her about her condition before. "Well it gives me all the stamina and muscle I need..." Sam never broke eye contact as she raised a leg to rest on the countertop at a perfect horizontal bridge. "I need to eat a little more so I have the carbs for when I do... well, this. But it's not like it changed who I was on the inside. I still don't know how you pronounce a pure-olet. I'm just good at them."

"You really are good..." James muttered.

"So what about your new body? Does it get in your mind at all?" Sam went on as she went into a split. James was too used to it by now to care, but could appreciate the slender woman's build anyway. At least Sam didn't have to worry about jumbo knockers.

"I dunno. It's like, y'know..." James tried to snap his fingers, but that scraped his long nails together in an uncomfortable way. "Ow... but that! It gets into my, like, way I talk sometimes."

"Not all the time? That's good. That should be easy for you to block out once you catch on that it's there. I used to speak French when I was mad," Sam confirmed. "Is that really all?"

When Sam put it like that, it didn't seem that big a deal. "Well... I literally tripped over myself at work when I saw this sexy policeman. And I've never even looked at another guy in the locker room before. And I got excited when I learned I could go shoe shopping to replace these dumb fucking heels."

"So it sounds like more of a reflex than a compel. If you don't know what else to do, your body will try to make you do those. So can you keep an eye on yourself and make sure you don't go sucking strangers' dicks while you're not looking?"

"Oh, haha," James said with a roll of his big green eyes. "It's not that bad."

"Good." Sam popped back up to her feet (or rather balancing on the tips of her toes). "Admitting that is the first real step. You look a little different, but the people who matter will know. You want my advice?" Sam twirled around while James nod, but she still seemed to notice anyway.

"Go to your room. Get naked and just start exploring. In a couple hours, we'll go shopping for some new clothes and get some dinner. There's a whole new you that you need to explore."

James did just as she suggested. He was glad to see that the clothes came off just like the shoes. He was still a tanned, stripperific redhead with ass and tits that were way too cylindrical and huge to be real. He bounced on his toes and giggled when the booty bounced with the same unnatural elasticity of his chest. His nipples looked extra tiny on the tips of such giant breasts, but they were sensitive to the touch, especially when he used them as little handles to wobble his funbags around.

“Ohhh fug,” he moaned through his warped lips. “I hate how hot I am. I shouldn’t be able to make myself this horny, but… as long as I’m already naked.” He turned and shook his ass for the mirror again before laying back. He instinctively spread his legs out wide, as if it was some bimbo trigger to laying down on a bed.  He pulled his pussy lips apart, gently moving the soft and seemingly well-used pussy lips to get a good look at himself in the mirror. Although he’d later find that he couldn’t cut or change his hair from its carefully maintained shape, his pubic hair was always kept trim in a tiny blonde bush. He noted that this premade body was supposed to be a dye job, but he was too excited to fully drink that in.

"Ohh, fug me," James mused softly, his shadowed eyes batting as his fat lips parted. He slid a carefully hand inside of himself, feeling the hard pink nail that tease his tender new genitalia. He felt the deep but vague warmth in his groin as she fingers seemed to know just where to go on their own. With one fateful curl of his finger, he let out a high and passionate moan as he first found his clitoris. His hips lifted all the way off the bed as he gasped for air, seeming to forget how to breathe for a moment. He kept fingering himself just how his body seemed to crave, his body kept stiff and shocked as he kept hitting this unknown itch. His clit was soon hard and thick enough for him to pinch and rub on either side with the tips of his nails, teasing it while careful not to scratch himself up with his new nail job.

"Ohmigod! Ohhh, fuck!" he moaned like a porn starlet gone out of control. "Fuckmefuckmefuckeme HARRRRD!" His whiny and needy cry peaked as he crossed his legs around his hand. His big hips humped his fingers, cumming hard as he squirted thickly over his hand. He flopped back onto the bed at last as all that tension left him, his huge breasts bobbing around like balloons while his head lolled to look at the mirror. He had to snort at his ditzy expression gawking back at him. At least his hair was still perfect.

James went ahead with the rest of Sam's plan as well. After fooling around with himself a little more, they went out shopping. James wore his old hoodie, sneakers that didn't fit his feet anymore, and some loose jeans since they were the only things that did a decent job covering his new body. Bra and underwear were clearly out of the question with his humpable hips compared to his usual boxers, and the shoes were just awful. He realized that his feet were built for high heels, and while his balance was fine his toes ached and his heels felt uncomfortable to be flat on the ground. Sam waited around posing and dancing while he tried things on, and both of them caught him starting to flip out over sales and shoes. It was getting easy to look out for, so long as he kept his head on his shoulders. Still, it was clear his outfits were going to be limited. A woman at his size wore either something frumpy and concealing or skimpy and tight, so he ended up with a mix of both.

So it was the next day that James hooked on his first bra, buttoned up his tight blouse, put on a skirt that was a little too long, and slid into some comfortable but tasteful heels before heading back to work. And there... things were fine. Everyone went back to work just like him, so the office was a comical sight: stuffed full of busty bimbos and photogenic porn stars that were actually running a perfectly competent office. There weren't any cute boys to spark his instincts, and while the valley girl brain couldn't do math very well, he easily overwhelmed such anxieties with his own knowledge. It was like Sam had said. It hadn't done much to his mind, just a few old lizard brain instincts. Nothing worse than jumping at lightning or thinking there were monsters in the shadows (or in this case, wanting to buy makeup and talk in valley girl lingo).

"So how was work?" Sam asked when he got home, stretching her leg perfectly vertical while she was fixing a sandwich.

"Not that bad!" James said brightly. He smiled widely, finding that the expression thinned his lips out and made them easier to talk around. "You were right. It's pretty manageable. Mostly I just smile more and move my keyboard farther back so I can see past my tits. Other than that... progress."

"Glad to hear," Sam said as she finally lowered her leg and twirled to face James. She kissed him lightly on his big, pouty lips, feeling a tingle even through his overstuffed mouth. "To celebrate, maybe you'd like to go explore that body again? Maybe with an extra set of hands this time to really get to know it better."

"OMG," James sighed quietly as he really started thinking about how flexible his roommate was.

Gold Digger Bodyswap, Parts 2/3

The first part was technically parts 1 and 2, so trying to not confuse myself later down the line. More bodyswap hijinx and learning how to live as a family of spoiled sluts.

The boys threw on some fresh clothes (since they had plenty to begin with) and decided to go out exploring. They had poked around the garage already to know their options and asked for a ride in the limo. It was fully stocked for their ritzy needs (mainly snacks, makeup and booze) and the driver took them for a ride around town. The streets of uptown California (where apparently they were living now) were classy as they could have imagined, and they were randomly lucky enough to be a part of it. Ethan and Jeff weren't exactly born into privilege as much as they were dropped into it, but it didn't mean they couldn't enjoy it.

They ate and drank some more, and eagerly stopped by a few shops. Jeff picked out some charmingly skanky new clothes for Mindy to and Roxi try out, and they stopped for dinner at a fancy Indian place that looked like they had no right in affording. Naturally, they did. They ended up overlooking the beach, enjoying popsicles from a street vendor and winking at the staring young men passing by. After all, it would have been their dream come true if they were in their shoes.

But they had seen their last stop for the night early on, and knew what they had to do when the sun went down. The night life started up, and this was clearly when these women shone.

It was just a scene out of a movie for them when they arrived at Starshine, the biggest and flashiest night club in their neighborhood. Everyone stared at their big black limo as the ladies with minds of men stepped out. Ethan wore a silky, skin-colored dress with random applications of glitter across its surface. Matching cream-colored heels capped off his long and toned legs while pushing up on my already large and perky ass. He had spent over an hour back at the house practicing how to walk with them and get his makeup in any presentable state. A strapless bra was basically there for formalities as his huge breasts kept themselves held up high and proud.

Jeff had gone a slightly different direction. He had gotten a long black skirt and a purple-lined black tanktop, standing out with his deep-purple lips and heavy eyeshadow. He looked more equipped for a rave, with his more simple, flat-heeled shoes, knee-high socks, and an extra stripe of sour-apple green put into his dark hair to keep the red ones company. Mindy had a simple dress or two in her closet, but he felt like this would seem the most fitting.

With the heads turning towards them, they started toward the back of the line; an intense wiggle to Ethan's to accompany the beat, and Jeff skipping merrily along with him. They didn't get far back when a big bald bouncer waved them to the front. They shared knowing smiles and strode back up.

"You girls looking to get in?" asked the baritone brute, and the two looked at each other and shrugged.

"We thought we'd check it out," Mindy giggled playfully. The guard asked for some ID's, which they'd double checked when they left the place.

"Ma'am, you're free to head in, but it says here she's 19. We can't serve minors."

"She's not minor! She's legal!" Ethan insisted, acting shocked by the age of his own daughter. "It's not like the police are going to raid a classy place like this!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the rules are the rules," he insisted. On the one hand, Ethan thought "good for him!" Stand-up guy. He'd met way worse bouncers before they found their college bar back home. But they weren't regular guys anymore. They were women with looks, money, and power leaking out of his million-dollar tits.

"Ohh, come on. Pleaaaase?" Mindy pried. "I won't even drink that much. I promise." The high school girl leaned into him, careful to press her breasts into his brick wall of a chest.

The taller and chestier Ethan leaned in as well, stroking his arm while one ample, plastic tit brushed against his cheek. "We won't cause any trouble. We're here to make friends. You want us to be friendly, right?" Ethan ran a hand down his hip, finally reaching his purse and sliding two hundred-dollar bills into his chest pocket.

Despite how he looked, the man wasn't made of stone: the promise of tits, both giant and barely legal, and a night's pay for looking the other way were too much. He opened the velvet rope for them and stepped aside. "Enjoy the club, ladies."

"Oh, you're a dream," Ethan giggled, rubbing her hand over his chest on the way in. Jeff went so far as to stand on his tiptoes and kiss the well-dressed goon on the cheek before he went inside.

Inside the club, the many voices mixed in with the overwhelming beat. Gorgeous and well-dressed people writhed on the dance floor or lounged near the bar. Low lights flashed and drifted around the room to make everything look wilder and more like a bizarre dream.

"Well? Get out there," Jeff urged, giving Ethan a firm pat on the ass. "Show them what you've got!"

Ethan emitted a gasp that wasn't entirely displeased by the short spanking. "Oh, you know I can't dance, baby," he warned, raising his husky voice over the music. "Not like this, anyway. Mommy needs her medicine."

Ethan had started to pick up on how Roxi must have spoken by looking over and practicing reading her various texts and posts. The voice was coming naturally, but he wanted to really sell it by picking up her manner of speaking and vocabulary. It involved a lot of pet names for everyone, possibly because she'd forget their names, and speaking clearly and confidently. No "ums" or "errs," no matter how stupid it sounded. They strode up to the bar, where they thankfully weren't checked again for their IDs after they'd gone through the bouncer.

"Hi, hon!" Ethan called over the music, resting his hefty breasts on the bar. It eased up the pressure on his back as well as got some immediate service. Tits like that were practically psychic powers when it came to getting attention. "Can I get a hard iced tea for me and my baby? We need something long and hard tonight," he said with a wide, pouty smile to make the innuendo as blatant as his curves. It was the fastest he'd ever gotten drinks, and in a place ten times as crowded as his usual hangouts. When the dark brown liquids came to them, Jeff pulled out a pair of twenties from inside his tank top and slapped them down on the bar.

"It's on me, mama," Jeff grinned at him, taking the drink and sipping daintily on his straw as he spun around, kicking his legs playfully to the beat as he watched the dance floor.

"Of course it is. That's my money, you little brat." Ethan pinched Jeff's cheeks in a spot that didn't have any makeup on it. "I spoil you sometimes. I really do."

"Well maybe if you'd spanked me more, I wouldn't need to find so many guys to do it for me," Jeff giggled back. They chatted and drank down their first orders, starting to loosen up and order a second for good measure. By then, they'd turned enough heads that a pair of young men moved in to pay for them. Between the wine during the day and their sweet cocktail, Ethan was even ready to let them.

"That dress looks good on you," the one handsome and tanned guy told her while Jeff was making eyes with his black friend with the shaved head.

"Everything looks good on me, sweetie," Ethan laughed loudly, taking his second glass of the liquored-up tea for the night. "I'm a Carter. This is my beautiful daughter Mindy, and I'm her even lovelier mother, Roxi."

Ethan went on through the night doing much of the same; they drank and they flirted, and Ethan went on talking about himself (or rather, Roxi and what she imagined she'd talk about concerning herself). He was able to do everything with confidence and shameless bravado, even showing his passing suitor how she could hold his beer in her cleavage. Roxi's body gave him that bold mix of a twisted sort of attractiveness and ego issues that he would never properly understand, egging him on to be as big, loud and happy as he wanted and no one would give him any shit about it because he was rich, sexy, and slutty.

Which lead them down their path for the night. Ethan was having too much fun to say no to anything. He danced with his gyrating figure, never thinking how ridiculous the silicone-stuffed Barbie doll milf might look while trying to twerk on the dance floor. He took all the free drinks and shots his improvised date offered, and had no problem pressing her hand on his thigh or brushing fingers over his fit and muscular arm. Ethan was clear on where the night was going (even through his drunken haze) when he looked over to check on his friend/daughter, finding her sitting in the lap of the darker club-goer with her arms around his neck, making out hungrily and sloppily.

"I think it's about time for my little darling to get to bed," Ethan giggled, turning back to... her man. Whatever his name was. "I can call up the limo. You have a place to stay, handsome? I've always got an extra place to put a guest..."

Ethan was soon stumbling back into his mansion, laughing merrily and holding onto her visitor's arm for balance. Jeff and her boytoy went off towards her room after the limo ride of aggressively taking and guiding the pub-crawler's hands over his body, clearly learning which of his new erogenous zones he enjoyed most.

"Kids, huh?" Ethan slurred, pulling his own guest towards his bedroom. "Gotta raise 'em right. Come on: the man of the house isn't home, and mommy needs someone to play daddy."

Ethan's first time being penetrated was absolutely overwhelming. The big fake tits weren't terribly sensitive to the touch, but the way they bounced and pulled at his body worked every muscle in his chest. It was strange to feel aroused by the man pinning her against the wall with his lips and hips, particularly with a new set of sex organs that were firing on all cylinders. His thighs opened and his hips gyrated as whatever equivalent of feminine instincts he had took over to guide him through it.

It was his first time, but it was a borrowed body, so Ethan went all out with his handsome, nameless friend. His drunk haze and Roxi's mature, experienced pussy let him go for hours, trying every position he could. He was on top, underneath, propped against the wall, and (probably his favorite) on his hands and knees getting his ass spanked and his hair pulled. It hit his clitoris at just the right angle, which was a pleasant and sudden reminder that he did, in fact, have a clit.

That was where his only real orgasm of the night came in; he'd felt a lot of little shakes that felt like miniature ones throughout their fuckfest, but there was no question about that one. His hips hammered back against the stranger's, taking him in as deep and fast as they could manage. Ethan's carefully preened hair pulled out of place into a bleach blonde mess, and he fell off of the hard dick and landed on his tits. He was shivering as his pussy twitched and flexed, squirting over the bedsheets while he barely felt his lover's cum hit Roxi's back and bubbly ass. He was too lost in his moaning and shaking, and when that faded he turned to clumsily grope at her random lover, urging him down to the bed and climbing back on top of him, straddling his face and returning the favor with his fat, enhanced lips around his still warm and sticky cock.

He must have blacked out shortly after, because he couldn't remember the night properly ending. He did wake up with the naked man still in bed with him, big dick and balls still in his face with Roxi's drool trickling over it in her sleep. Ethan jolted back upright, her exhausted lover barely shuffling in his sleep. Ethan tasted sweat and booze on his tongue, and he needed a shower. He considered the man on his bed and what to do about it; the alcohol had helped a lot, but the experience itself wasn't so bad. He ended up patting the man on his stomach.

"Wake up, big boy. I've got shit to do today.  I'll call you a cab."

Gold Digger Bodyswap

I've been doing a lot of these shorter and bodyswap stories lately. This is mostly because I'm working on several much longer projects for fight stories, one that should be familiar to my followers (the other's a private job). They're easy for me to fit in between other jobs since I can crank out them in a day or two of real work. In this case, a pair of boys find themselves waking up in the bodies of a spoiled wealthy woman and her gothy daughter, exploring their new world and bodies. Hope folks enjoy the bit of variety.

As soon as he woke up, the first thing that Ethan noticed was how much his chest hurt. He had been drinking a lot the night before, but that was a new feeling to accompany it. He still had the aftertaste of sweet alcohol on his tongue, and as he shuffled his feet under the blankets, he found it to be much bigger and softer than his usual bedding. He must have ended up having drunk sex with some woman. Ethan was a shallow college sophomore, so his main concern was just hoping that she hadn't been ugly.

But when he lifted his head, there wasn't anyone in the bed but himself. A number of fluffy punk and white pillows, and bedsheets so soft and smooth that it reminded him that thread count was even a thing. It didn't explain the weight though... he remembered people talking about heart attacks feeling like an elephant sitting on your chest, but it wasn't quite that. As he sat up, the weight came with him, and a lot of bleach-blonde hair fell over his shoulders.

Ethan had short, black hair when he went to bed last night. He was also a male. He looked down to see himself wearing nothing but a pair of blood-red lace thong. Ethan let out a feminine scream as he saw the titanic tits growing out of him. He threw back the sheets to see that the body was not at all his own. It was all woman, and one hell of a woman. His tits were as big as his head, and round wiggly hips were bridged to it by a skinny, narrow waist. Long legs were tipped in carefully trimmed and pink-painted toenails, and his fingernails shone with matching polish. Even the pubic hair was an almost unnaturally bright blonde, on top of being shaved into a tiny patch shaped like a heart.

"Oh my god! Why am I a slut!?" His voice came out breathy and high, something befitting the new body. It felt odd to talk at first, realizing a huge set of lips were patting together every time they went to close. He looked around the spacious room, loaded with closets, dressers, a huge TV... this slut was rich too! He needed to figure out what was going on, but first, he needed a mirror. He spotted a slightly open door to her private bathroom, having to crawl on all fours just to get off the giant bed. It made him ridiculously aware of his own body as his big tits and bubble butt wobbled all the way. He shoved open the bathroom door, stepping over an old, used towel and a hair dryer that was still plugged in. He noted a huge rack of various types of makeup, right next to numerous bottles of pills. They had formal labels, some prescription and some not, but they all had their purpose scribbled on in sharpie. "Birth control." "Headaches." "Sleepy times." "Stomach aches." "Boner pills." "Nausea." "Feel goods :)."

Ethan turned to focus on the triple mirror over the sink. There "he" was, and he looked as ridiculously hot as he expected. Long blonde hair, a tan that you sure didn't get from working in the yard, some leftover but still stylish makeup on his face, big blue eyes. He looked like someone had told this woman the standard of beauty and she drove a truck through the definition to take it too far. He ran a hand over his fat lips, slightly sticky with drool and bubblegum pink lipstick. His tits were insane, and while he was no expert, he only had to cup and push at them lightly to feel certain that they were all fake. They had almost zero give to them, and every little wobble tugged at his chest muscles as they stuck straight out. He turned and shook his hips, watching his big booty wiggle around and feeling confident that something was injected into her ass to make it bounce like that on such a skinny woman. He leaned closer and ran a hand over his cheek, seeing no wrinkles at all but a tautness that gave him more suspicions about this woman and her obsession plastic surgery.

"God damn... how many dicks have you had in you?" he mumbled.

"Pardon me, Mrs. Carter." Ethan spun around to see a woman in something like a French maid outfit (you know, the kind that actual maids would never wear if they were going to be able to do their job right), only even more skimpy. She was younger than Ethan's new body seemed, and naturally pretty rather than the Frankensteinian supermodel that he was, with straight red hair and freckles over her breast and nose. The wide cleavage really showed off the latter, and Ethan had to assume the outfit was not just to objectify the woman, but to show off the freckles so that "Mrs. Carter" could assure herself that the girl had her flaws and wasn't a threat to her vanity. She was certainly sexy, but Ethan was a decent guy deep down.

"Oh, um... yes. You," Ethan managed to bluff with utmost perfection, simply because his words came out in the same feminine, faintly smokey voice and he wasn't positive the drugged up rich bitch would know her servants' names. He barely bit back from saying "Can I help you?"

"Did you need help dressing yourself today, Mrs. Carter?" the woman offered, and it took him a moment too realize she was being serious. "You were... celebrating very heavily last night, so I thought you might need a hand."

Ethan realized he was still in just his thong, his hard (and looking too small for his chest) nipples poking out towards the maid. "You know what? Yes... that would be great. Thank you." Ethan wouldn't be sure where to look for any of her clothes anyway. The maid gave him some worried looks, but she went to a closet and started along while he sat on the bed. She produced a pair of panther-black panties and a massive bra that had to have been custom made to fit his body, and when he realized she was holding them up for inspection, he nodded in approval. When the redhead fished out a complicated-looking black garment that resembled a mix of a corset, lingerie, and a ridiculously slutty swimsuit, Ethan winced and waved it off.

"I think I'll be wearing something more comfortable today," he insisted. "I might be staying in for most of the day." The maid looked at him quizically but shrugged.

"As you wish, Mrs. Carter." She went to an entirely different wardrobe to produce a few more tight and tiny tops until there was one that Ethan thought would conceivably fit him without bursting. He ended up with a set of pink booty shorts and a white top with a woman's glossy lips on the chest suggestively eating a lollipop with "Yummy" across the tits.

Ethan had to admit that letting the beautiful woman dress him was a luxurious experience. The maid avoided eye contact to minimize the akwardness to tugging underwear and snug-fitting shorts onto his new body. "Will you be needing any kind of special treatment today?" the maid asked as she only had the shirt left. "I can tell the chef, masseuse, chaufeur, or whoever you might need..." Now Ethan was starting to wonder if he could help but end up spoiled himself in a place like this.

Before he could answer, a girl somewhere in her late teens suddenly pushed open the door and hurried through it. The girl had short, deeply black hair with several streaks of bright red carefully dyed through it. She wore torn jeans that hung low on her, enough to expose the waistband of some panties (red and black to match the hair) and a small tattoo of a some kind of Chinese character or rune right at the lowest part of her abdomen. She wore a t-shirt featuring the intentionally aged-looking decal of the cast of Sesame Street, showing her own modest tits pressing out against it. Two studs pierced each ear, and black makeup and eyeshadow finished off the pale girl's gothic and vaguely familiar look.

"Mom! We need to talk," she insisted before her eyes darted back and forth from the maid back to Ethan... then down at Ethan's tits and back to him. "Alone."

The maid looked to Ethan for approval, and his instinct told him that telling the girl to fuck off until breakfast would be a suitable response for this woman. "Yes, sure. Come on in." Ethan gave a vague gesture to dismiss the redhead, who gave a quick bow (almost careful to make sure she was low enough to show a deep view into her cleavage) before bouncing up and leaving. As the door was shut, the goth ran her hands through her hair in visible frustration.

"Oh my god, how do I explain this?" grumbled the goth. "I'm... you know me, right?"

Ethan paused for a second too long. "Yea. Of course."

"Okay, then... I'm not me!" she blurted out. "I went drinking last night, I went to bed, and this isn't my bed. These aren't my clothes, and don't know anyone's names here. I don't know where my friend is or-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ethan cut in. "Jeff? Is that you in there?"

The two men in women's bodies shared a moment of silence. "Oh, this is some bullshit," Jeff muttered, running a hand over his made-up face. "What the fuck was in those drinks, dude?"

"I don't know," Ethan insisted, throwing up his hands and having to catch his tits to stop their dense jiggling. “If the girls were here, I’d ask them! It’s not like they gave us ‘get rich and become hot skanks’ potions.”

“Oh good,” Jeff sighed as he sat on the bed next to Ethan. “You know that you're hot. That’s gonna make this a lot less awkward.”

“Yea, but like… weird hot. Besides, everyone seems to think I’m your mom, so it’s plenty awkward either way. At least you got the easier body.”

"What?!" Jeff's shadowed eyes looked at her incredulously. "You got the most crazy-sexy body I've ever seen."

"Yea, but does this look practical to walk around in?" Ethan cupped his breasts, letting go so that the dense orbs of plastic and flesh bounced in front of him. "They're so overstuffed I keep feeling like I'm going to break these things."

Jeff paused before reaching out to grab one of the Ethan's tits and give it a testing squeeze. Ethan gasped and pushed his hand back, but Jeff shrugged. "What? It's not like they're really yours anyway. You sure didn't pay for them."

"Well they're still on my body, man!" Ethan objected.

"But come on. You're old enough to drink, and you could get mad-laid in that body." This time Ethan gave him a dry look. "Maybe not the kind you're looking for..." Right on cue, the cell phone on the dresser chimed with a quick but obnoxious little tune. Ethan sat up to read "You going to be free today, Roxi?" So he was Roxi Carter now...

"But you get to be the mom," Jeff went on. "That's definitely in your favor. People are going to expect me to do what you say in public now."

"Do you LOOK like the kind of girl who listened to your mom?"

"Fair enough. So... what do we do now?"

Ethan thought as he dismissed the message a quick "I'll be busy," though it took a few tries with his new nails, and the phone auto-inserted a winky emoji somehow. As he closed the text screen, he glanced over her contact list: a whole lot of men, and one near the bottom labeled "The Hubby." Roxi Carter was certainly not making a good case for herself. He turned back and tugged his shirt over his straining bra. "How about we check this place out? We obviously belong here, so we should be able to look around."

Ethan was glad he did: the place was huge! It was three stories high with an indoor pool, personal gym, hot tub, and a genuine ball room/dining hall for god knows what kind of crazy parties. Roxi wasn't just a slut. She was fucking a millionaire. No wonder he was nowhere to be seen if he was busy making this much money. What was more, the place had a lot of pink to it, and a pair of happy, well-groomed pomeranians running around the halls. Handsome and sexy servants were around every corner, and they smiled at Ethan a bit too flirtily. If "Hubby" was out making the money, then Roxi definitely called the shots around the house.

"You are a gold-digger, man," Jeff muttered to him when they had a moment apart from all the servants.

"Yea... it'd kind of be a shame to waste all that hard work though, huh?"

Ethan and Jeff had gathered a few things. Searching through their rooms, they found plenty of meds, clothes, and sex toys, but finally they found what they were looking for between their purses, cell phones, and laptops. Ethan was now Roxi Carter, an unemployed wife of an international airline owner. Meetings, inspections and crap kept him going all over the world (only home a few days out of a month, at most), but it also kept his wife loaded beyond belief. Her daughter/Jeff's host body was Mindy Carter, a spoiled high schooler who seemed to backed by some unclear mix of sexual favors and generous donations, so no amount of misbehavior or missed classes could fail her.

"I have such a retarded amount of fuckbuddies," Ethan noted, scrolling through his contact list. "I get so many dick pics on this thing."

"Then put it away," Jeff insisted.

"I know, it's gross. But I'm just impressed by this slut more than I am grossed out. Work hard for the money, know what I mean?"

"Look, just because you're in a cumdumpster doesn't mean you can't make the best of this. This place isn't even a mansion at this point; it's a hotel for two!"

"Three if you count 'hubby,"

"Who's never home! So come on! Let's use this stuff! You know these bitches didn't appreciate what they had. Otherwise, why would we have seen them in that nowhere bar?"

Ethan either couldn't or didn't want to argue with that logic. Plus his skinny body was getting hungry. They'd gone through their voicemails and some Facebook posts to get a grasp on their basic mannerisms, but now it was time to test it out.

"Good morning, Mrs. Carter. You're looking lovely today." A well-dressed man welcomed them into the private dining room. It took a while to find it in the big place, with Ethan insisting that they were going on a walk and Jeff insisting that the huge banquet hall seemed impractical for everyday use. This was a cozy little hideaway with a small table for a handful of guests or a small family, but still enough glamor to pass for a tiny restaurant.

"Hey there, hon," Ethan chimed in his best California doll voice. It was odd to talk in the voice of the body while trying to also copy her voice, but no one mentioned anything about it, so he expected it was working. Roxi took her time talking, because everyone wanted to hear what her vapid head had to say, and it gave them an excuse to stare at her tits while she found the words. But she was sociably sweet on the outside, in an easily faked kind of way. "Me and my girl need some breakfast. Can you make that happen?"

"Of course. what will you-?"

"Fuck us up with pancakes!" Jeff cut in. "With chocolate chips!" Mindy was quick to talk when she should be thinking, but used her words liberally. Why use just one when you could use a dozen, with two of them being profanity?

Their servant looked to Ethan, who nodded in confirmation. "Going off your new diet then, ma'am?" he double-checked.

"Honey,  you're not being paid to think for me," Ethan laughed through a sweet, silicone smile. "You're the help that tells the other help how to help me. But you're a dear to worry like that." The manservant was struck silent by her words, but left briskly after that. The boys giggled once he'd left, but not quite before he was out of earshot.

"You are such a bitch when you're in a bitch," Jeff beamed.

"And you're a mouthy little shit," Ethan smiled as he leaned his chin on his palm, resting his heavy tits on the table. "So let's play the parts before people get suspicious."

"And a slut like you pigging out on pancakes isn't suspicious?"

"Hey, something's got to feed this bubble butt," Ethan insisted with a mock-offended look on his face.

"Something gave you that bubble butt alright, but it wasn't food," Jeff said, leaning over and patting the back of his hand on the top of Roxi's bouncey tits. Ethan just giggled and kicked back to wait for his meal.

The two had an absolute blast that day. They explored their huge house, seeing a huge garden out back and a big indoor pool. They ended up taking the maid up on her offer and went to visit the masseuse, a talented and lovely Asian woman that had them strip down for the procedure. This involved a lot of snickering between the two boys in rich women's bodies as they undressed their variously curvy figures for each other.

"Look at my ass later, mother fucker," Ethan chuckled in the private changing room, stuffing his top and bra into a locker.

"Once you stop looking at my tits," Jeff grinned back, brushing some multi-colored strands of hand from his face. Whenever he moved, Ethan could see the little movement of the nipple rings hanging onto the teen's tits.

"Only if you let me see those later. When we're alone."

If seeing the other naked in a sexy woman's body was awkward, then it was quickly forgotten in the midst of their massages. Ethan was far too busy moaning as his masseuse worked her magic enough for him to forget that he was leaning right on on his humungous tits. Sleeping on her must have been life-threatening to this crazy bitch. He heard Jeff giving off similar high, sensual moans, and it soon became an unspoken contest between them to make the most pseudo-sexual noises to distract the other while still acting like it was them enjoying the massage.

The two of them eventually settled into one of the living rooms. They were splayed out on the big cushy sofa in front of the the biggest TV that Ethan had ever seen in a person's house. They were playing side by side on the fully stocked PS4, a few bottles of red wine out on the table among all their chips and flavored rice cakes. They'd agreed that beer and fried chicken would be a little obvious, and something they'd eaten just last night. Then again, this wasn't the same stomach Ethan had last night.

"Gotcha!" Jeff boasted, tossing his controller aside to take another long pull of his the wine. "This stuff grows on you, huh?" He grinned a bit sloppily with his painted lips.

"Must be why your mom drank so much of it," Ethan agreed, emptying his glass and refilling it.

"Yea, but my mom wasn't as rich or as hot as you right now. REALLY, woman. I don't even know how you sit with an ass like that."

"Oh, it's comfortable as hell," Ethan replied, smiling with his pouty lips as he licked his wine-reddened tongue over them. "It's kind of like a beanbag chair is wherever you sit down."

"I mean it feels like a waste. I'd feel ashamed to sit on an ass like that when I could be showing it off."

"Oh, relax. Your ass is hot too," Ethan assured him, eying up his casually dressed "daughter." "I wouldn't kick you out of bed, that's for sure."

"I knew you were checking her out," Jeff smirked. He tapped on his controller as another level loaded. "Hey, how about we make it interesting this time..."

After a bit of back and forth, they arranged their bet. Each kill that round was one point. For each point, the other guy had to model a different outfit from their body's wardrobe. After a lot of desperate fighting and some urgent screen-looking, they settled on 3 to 4 in Jeff's favor.

They split up and gathered a few outfits before meeting back in Ethan's/Roxi's room. They took turns going in and out of the bathroom with their variously sexy outfits. Ethan started first since the had the extra point to go through, starting off with some lacey black lingerie with garterbelts and stockings. It was extra tight all over, so much that the edges of his areolas poked out over the top of the bust.

"You make me wish I had a dick again, man," Mindy sighed from the safety of the locked bedroom.

"You know, I really don't miss it." Ethan grinned, posing for both Mindy and the mirror nearby. He really was ridiculously gorgeous, especially for her age. He leaned far over in front of Jeff, making his tits wobble to a stop so that they threatened to pop right out of their lacey prison.

They went through their cycle, excitedly jiggling, posing, and blowing kisses for each other. Jeff had used a casual but sexy outfit for his first, wearing an excessively tattered tanktop and shorts that hung so low on her narrow hips that they showed he was wearing nothing underneath them. Ethan countered with a lime green cocktail dress so snug and sequined than Jeff had to compare him to Jessica Rabbit outloud. Jeff followed up with an old red and blue cheerleader outfit, something so short that it had to either be a Hot Topic kind of kinky outfit or just something that Mindy hadn't worn in several years. He was sure to bounce around and jut out his hips to flash his purple panties with "Oh fuck me!" printed on the ass. Ethan had a sling bikini next, something that barely covered his nipples and only then by virtue of how tightly it fit on over his shoulders and between his bubbly ass cheeks.

Finally, Jeff revealed that mindy has been hiding a full blown dominatrix outfit: leather corset, high-heeled boots, gloves and all. Ethan topped it all off with a pair of tall silver heels and a thong bikini with a tropical pattern across what little fabric it provided, as if he were some sort of insanely proportioned Miss America model.

"We are sick fucks and I am so okay with that," Jeff sighed. "How many bikinis does that woman have, anyway?"

"Like a dozen!" Ethan answered with a bubbly giggle. "She must love to swim."

"Or just likes being stared at while she's tanning. Or pool sex."

"It could be all three," Ethan said almost defensively before he turned sharply to Jeff. "Shit, that's right! We've got a giant indoor pool now, don't we?! We can't waste that shit!"

They hurried Jeff into a black bikini, one that her mother would definitely disapprove of, but the boys highly approved. They sent a passing butler for towels rather than guess their way around where to find them. They reached the Olympic-sized pool, all housed with a high-roofed room with huge glass panels in the walls, as if to let the sunlight in as well as anyone who came to gawk at the owner's wet body while keeping them well out of groping distance.

The boys looked over the pool quietly before they bothered to step in. "This feel... weird to you?" Ethan asked.

"Kinda," Jeff mused, kneeling down and running a hand through the water. Even the fact that the pool was heated somehow didn't tempt him in any further. "Kinda... big for just two people, right?"

"Yea. This doesn't feel like the kinda life... hell, the kinda body you just share with one person." Ethan curled some of his blog blonde hair around his finger as he thought and chewed on one of his puffy lips. "I mean... we fooled the help around the house. If anyone who tell we were... like this, then it would probably be them. We probably see them more than we do my husband."

Jeff gave a girlish sigh and looked out over the still waters of the pool. "Yea... let's go see the world a little huh?"

Ethan nodded and turned back, starting for the private locker/changing room when a maid appeared with the towels. "Oh right. Nevermind," Ethan said with a dismissive wave. "We changed our minds. We're going out for a while."

"Of course, Mrs. Carter," the maid excused, seemingly used to Roxi changing her mind constantly. She waited until Jeff started to head for one end of the locker room before the maid leaned over and muttered to Ethan. "I have to say though, congratulations with your daughter."

"Hmm?" Ethan looked between the maid and his undressing friend/daughter. "What do you mean?"

"You're always avoiding each other or at each other's throats. It's so good to see you two trying to get a little closer," she maid smiled proudly.

Ethan gave her a slightly stunned look. The maid looked ready to apologize when Ethan put a hand on her shoulder. "Well thank you, sweetness. Tell you what: why don't you go home early today? We're probably going to be out for a while. Same offer goes for the rest of the help, so spread the word."

The maid's eyes widened, staring at Ethan as if waiting for some twist or hammer to drop on the offer, but Ethan eventually just waved at her to move along. She nodded and smiled. "Oh! Yes! Um, thank you, miss! I've been meaning to check up on my kids. I can spare the hours to take care of..."

Ethan waved his hand to stop her again. "Nah, don't bother with that. Just tell whoever you need to that I said it's paid time off, and call me if they need to. Just show up on time tomorrow."

The maid froze again before nodding and hurrying off. Ethan smiled as he started to squeeze out of his bikini. The staff must think she was going through a Scrooge-style transformation overnight, based on how she reacted. He was only inside the silicone queen Barbie for a few hours and he already felt like he was improving the life of everyone around him. He could certainly learn to get comfortable here.