“Boarding now, for a non-stop flight to-”
Skye Chambers hurried her pace as she moved towards the boarding area. The airport was packed, holiday travellers and the weekend bustle combined to make for a cramped fit as she tugged her rolling luggage behind her. Short and sensible beige heels clicked as she came to a stop on the faux wood floor dividing the main thoroughfare from passenger check-in. She looked like just another busy traveler, short brunette hair tucked back as she pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and brought up the ticket. Flipping from that to another app she started texting.
Rolling her eyes at that, Skye wistfully smiled. It had been a while since she’d hung out with the ‘Crew’ as it was and even if she was flying in for business nothing said she could have a bit of pleasure. Mocktails and karaoke, a real girls night with the girls would be exactly the thing the doctor ordered.
“Good afternoon Ma’am,” the flight attendant said. Skye smiled back as she swiped back to her ticket and held it over the reader. Two and then three passes before it finally registered and she was handed the ticket receipt. “Enjoy your flight to Metro City.”
She almost paused midstep, but another passenger had already taken the spot behind her and the crowd was pushing her forward. That was an odd name for Detroit. Her expression quirked into mild confusion as she continued walking forward. She swore she had heard that name before… maybe it was some kind of regional thing? Still lost in thought she continued past the boarding gate and towards the airbridge. Oddly there was a right and then a left, heading down. They must have been higher up above the tarmac then she thought after the tram ride from check-in. She paid little attention to it, phone out as she typed away.
Before she could finish typing her next response she stepped out of a door at the bottom of the ramp. Not onto the plane, but the hard asphalt of the airport’s exterior. Confusion hit her just as the sound of the jet engines going through pre-flight checks did, the wind blowing hard and hot from the distance. Skye blinked in confusion as the harsh light of the slowly setting sun caught in her eyes before she could turn and try to get back to where she should be and away from where she most certainly shouldn’t. Only for that light to be blocked as a silhouette came to stand between her and it.
“Finally… I thought you’d just never get here,” a husky sounding woman slowly drawled out, each syllable spoken languidly, luridly, lingering as hands were put to hips and Sky began to see the cocky grin behind that voice. And why she could be so cocky as well. Not just talking down but looking down at her as she spoke, curvy and sporting a practically amazonian physique, it had the little office worker enroute for a flight feeling practically miniscule in comparison. “Took your sweet time, eh fly girl?”
“Uh… excuse me,” Skye said, shielding her eyes as she tried to get a better look, still confused how she even got down here in the first place. She swore she was walking the same air bridge as everyone else but now she was down here and the rest of the passengers were on the plane. Hell, she could even see some of them looking down at her from the windows! Embarrassment flushed her face as she turned back towards the oddly dressed (short-shorts with a chain as a belt, a crop top that somehow miraculously wasn’t showing this woman’s nipples despite her more than generous assets and the tightness of the torn white cloth, and standing in bright, red pumps.
All while her exceedingly long, excessively voluminous bright pink hair flowed behind her in a preposterous fashion. It was simply too much.
“I think you have me confused with someone else? Who are-”
“Imitation is a form of flattery,” she said instead, ignoring Skye’s words as if they were off script and deserved to be ignored, “but if you want a taste of Poison so much I think I’ll have to put you in your place first!”
“Wha-”
Round One!
Tarmac Thrash
Poison Versus [Skye]
FIGHT!
She heard a loud voice yelling out the words… or perhaps she felt them instead? It took her utterly off guard regardless, shock only growing as a jazzy beat kicked up. Leaving her to ignore the other, taller, woman as she stalked closer, an almost leisurely confidence in her approach. Till she was grabbed forcibly by her collar, swung to face her and-
The first hit should have knocked her senseless if it didn’t knock her damn teeth out, but the pain faded instead of blossoming through her like it should. Either that or the fact that she was suddenly being slapped silly before thrown backwards onto her rear left her far too confused to even begin to comprehend what had happened. Her face certainly felt wrong after that, numb and weird all at once. She licked her lips, surprised they weren’t busted up instead of just swelling oddly, suddenly, naked flesh covered in popping bright blue as the stinging faded and they became quite beestung indeed.
“What the fuck?!” Skye scrambled to her feet, turning to run only to stop when she saw an airport worker unloading luggage from the motorized baggage cart and onto the conveyor belt. He froze as she locked eyes with him. “Oh thank god, you have to get security or something and-AH!”
Before she could take another step she shuddered as a flying kick landed onto her shoulder, sending shocks of pain and sensation through her whole body before she felt that extra long and extra muscular leg slide down. Almost as if she was stuck watching it all in slow motion, the pain already forgotten as she struggled to stand with the added (and considerably greater) weight of another woman riding on her shoulders, the piggy-back performance came to an end with twist and a pull as she was yanked backwards and thrown end over end against the ground.
She must have bounced because she saw stars. Yet somehow she was still standing, rising up, and swaying from side to side as the trauma of that last attack ran through her like jittering bolts of electricity. Her body stretched like soft clay, pulled up and out as if the downward kick and loosened a spring in her spine and she’d always been meant to be nearly six feet tall instead of closer to five. Her pants rode up as her legs grew and her jacket tightened as her shoulders widened with new musculature.
Not that Skye was truly aware of any of this yet, still reeling from the last attack and ill prepared for the next.
“Tell me how I look from this angle sweetie.”
She came out at the taunting voice, but her errant block was high instead of low, so the heeled pump drove under her guard, between her arms, and straight into her chin. Skye flew back again, collar popping open on her shirt as she smashed through a pile of luggage behind her. Ears ringing, the sound of the jet engines like another instrument in the infernal beat that pounded on her not unlike this crazed bitch’s fists and feet. While behind her she saw the loading crew had stopped their jobs to cheer on her inexplicable fight. Blue and chrome lips turned into a sneer as anger possessed her and she flipped them off-
Only to state in fascinated horror as a black fingerless glove swam up, over her flesh, and then knitted tight on her right hand. She came to stand, gazing in stupefied horror as a new and different outfit started to form beneath her normal clothes, wincing as the tightness and ensuing wrongness of what she was wearing already only seemed to grow as well. Looking up she missed her attacker sliding down, kicking her legs out and dropping her once more onto the ground.
This time Skye caught herself, arms straining as muscles bulged and grew, her skirt ripping along the sides as she kicked out on instinct. Her beige shoes exploding into mauve navy blue, heels popping out longer too before she almost leaped up to her feet. But her attack was as poor as her footing, easily blocked and countered, leaving her reeling and stunned where she stood.
And in perfect position for the next attack.
“Time for a Kiss!” The pink haired hellion yelled out, ducking low, palms flush to the ground as she spun around and aimed her feet up. Kicking up and then somehow pushing from the ground with such force that she took Skye at least four meters into the air, all the while continuing a repeating drill kick into her torso and chest that felt like hammer blows shoving every last breath of air from her body. It should have been a traumatizing end, beaten within an inch of her life by this veritable superhuman woman with hair the color of bright bubblegum. But instead she fell to the ground on the opposite side of the makeshift arena, struggling to stand not because of a dozen broken ribs (like she would have expected) but instead…
“Ah… oh my fucking-”
Throbbing, growing pressure. Her chest still reverberating from the kicks, vibrating as the impacts repeated over and over in memory and something else. Her already torn jacket was ripped off as she grabbed and tugged at her clothes like they were strangling her. All the while her rising and falling chest rose more and more. Finally her shirt gave way, buttons popping loose one by one… and revealing dark, navy blue material beneath. A matte finish, black buttons latching it tight as it grew tighter and tighter, her once pale flesh gaining a tan she’d not even noticed rising up and over her body, all while her bosom rose even faster still. She gripped her tits with her now gloved hands, eyes wide in utter shock as she felt them grow and grow, assets rivaling her opponents if filling out a more uniform top. Literally, as it looked like a sexy parody of flight attendent’s outfit had somehow grown onto her body and replaced her bra while she’d been kicked and thrown from one side of the arena to the other. Her hands gripped tight and-
“Oooh~”
Her voice dropped an octave or three as she felt her breasts rather suddenly swell rounder, prouder, and very obviously faker. Not set with merely mirroring her opponent, but trying to beat her on some level, even if it was cup size and then only by growing a set of bolted on breasts out of nowhere.
But then the only way her body could compare, could compete with this perfection was to become a warped reflection, an almost sexual parody by contrast. It was comical, not that she was laughing, the madness of it all not really sunk in even as the next attack pummeled more of her into her.
She didn’t even see it, only felt the blast of pink-purple light drive into her body and drop her to her knees. This time she couldn’t get up, just breathing heavily, her massive new ‘floatation devices’ swaying on her chest as she lay there on her knees.
Victory!
Poison
Perfect!
“Oh thank God, maybe it’s-”
Round Two!
FIGHT!
Skye suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline, like lightning in every vein. The aches and pains (which barely had been there before) all vanished as she came to stand again. This was still going on?!
She… she couldn’t take much more of this. Literally, she was barely hanging on as it was.
“I need to stop this now!” Skye thought, walking forward, body now taking on a more natural sway and strut of confidence she most certainly didn’t feel. “I’ll just forfeit and then get on my plane and-”
“Well well… looks like someone’s trying to steal my seat,” Skye said, barely recognizing her own voice. Hands flying to her throat, feeling the wrongness of her body once more… and then a little extra as she continued her trash talk without a pause. “Sorry, I don’t feel like sharing.”
“Heh… you want me to punch your ticket some more sister? Fine, but don’t you go Kiss and tell.”
What.
The.
Hell?!
She hadn’t meant to say that! She’d meant to-
She dodged this one, darting back, if only barely, faster on her new heels than she’d ever been before. But that only meant a change in tactics, as the pink-haired woman stuck a pose, glowed red and-
Wait, is that a molotov-
The explosion engulfed her in fire that burned yet not right. She stumbled back, her already torn clothes falling away in ashes. Pants gone, showing her bare legs, at least for a moment as her scorched and blackened socks turned into fishnets and rode up and up to they passed under a too thin, too tight micro skirt that creaked and complained as hips and ass, thighs and legs, all grew and swelled as her body continued to suffer (and thrive) under the onslaught. Skye blocked the next explosion somehow, but it pushed her back. And as it did she felt the caress of her own hair on her backside, the now naked midriff an barely covered ass crack revealed by her preposterous outfit now covered by a canopy of hair. As long, as voluminous, as wild and crazed as the woman’s in front of her. Though while hers was pink Skye’s was a neon blue, yet still natural, dyed to the roots.
And seemingly dyeing into her brain, as she struck back for once, a palm strike into the chin of her opponent that rocked her world for once.
“Yeah, take that bitch! I’m the terror of the skies and-”
But enthusiasm and sudden strength was no match for experience and her next punch was caught. Skye had only a moment to blink before she was pulled forward, chest to chest, bust to bust, her big fake titties against the smaller, natural, and differently covered bosom of her increasingly warped reflection. Only to cry out in shock as she received the mother of all cunt-strikes, a knee deep to her core that had her about to collapse in strange and unexpected sensations. Only for her to immediately be pulled into a another leg through, this time from the front. The woman’s crotch flush against her face and-
Throb.
Wha-
She inhaled a musky scent, sweat and something else that made her body ache worse than the kick. Fire in her veins, fire in her core, she sailed through the air, and landed hard once more on her increasingly big backside. She had to have been wrong, had to have been mistaken, had to have-
“Ugh!”
Her own crotch seemed to violently argue otherwise as she felt the reverberations kick in even harder. Dull ache turned throbbing pressure as the skirt covered thong poked outward with an invader new and novel. Just as every part of her had grown and swelled, changed and twisted, her once cute and little clitty was no longer either of those things. Skye’s swollen lips opened into a wordless moan as she tried to stay on her feet, all while pulse after pulse of growth hit her again and again, harder and harder each time. Quarter inch, half inch, one inch, two… four.
It grew and grew with violent, wanton abandon, as if the assault on her being and identity had only been crack open the gates, leveling the defenses for this. A complete and utter lightning strike on her sex and gender! The throatier voice, the slight hint of an Adam’s apple… and the collar that suddenly snapped around her neck to match her opponents made sense, though she had to admit that between the two of them one wore femininity naturally while the other-
It was fighting a losing tug-o-war against profoundly masculine nature and barely hanging on by giving ground where it could.
“Wait-ugh… I-” she managed to eek out, her own voice (well, not hers, as hers was gone alongside her original hair, height, and likely her own sex if something didn’t stop real soon).
“Let’s finish this!” Pink and red glow covered her opponent as she pulled out a bullwhip and struck the air. This time Skye saw the wave of energy form and hit her straight on. She didn’t duck or block, instead knocked back as a spinning blade of pink violence took to the air. Heel kick down she hit the ground hard, ass up and unable to move.
“Pay attention worm! This is how I discipline wannabees!”
“Ouch! OUCH! OU-ooOH!”
The blows rained down on her ass, over and over and faster and faster. Her body rocking with the motion as what started as pained moans became something else, something lurid and wrong. Her body was wrong, she was wrong. Skye Chambers…
Puh-lease!
Throb
THROB
THROB
Her clit swelled faster and faster, figner thick and then thicker, her insides churning as the assual on her ass drove deeper then the flesh and fat, the jiggling of her bottom or the bouncing of her tits as she rode through the waves of pain turned pleasure and back again into something worse. One moment womanhood, the next she felt the pressure of something else, one moment motherhood and the next manhood, womb-begone and prostate-born. Her body shuddered as her clit-her cock hit the size of a big goddamn energy drink and seemed only somewhat content with the fat hog of prime girl-cock it had become. She shuddered as the pressure grew, the now filled contents of her annihilated female sex needing to violently finish things off, to give the crescendo, the climax, the brilliant and beautiful announcement of exactly what she was, of who she was now!
She gasped, feeling the pressure at the edge, her sex gaping wide as her gock slipped loose and slapped against the tarmac, her brain cooking in a stew of estrogen turned testosterone, of past sexual mores thoroughly beaten black and navy to neon blue as she bucked into the assault of the whip, liking the abuse, the pain, the thrill of the fight win-or-lose more and more. Her body was changed, her mind was changing, her past was GONE!
She was…
“Ooh yeah~”
SHE WAS…
“Harder Mistress~”
SHE WAS-
“Put your back into it already,” she said with a leering grin as she turned and looked up, “I barely-AHH!”
“Haughty little bitch thinks she can take on the original?” The next strike on her rump came the hardest yet, not that she noticed as instead she only heard and felt the-
*POP*
Explosive birth of her testes, ovaries pushed out and made proper balls, the slick wet sack slapping between her legs, from asshole to taint, all traces of ‘womanhood’ gone, and her massive gock now jerking as she came.
Over and over, somehow delighted in her defeat.
Victory!
Poison
Violent Victory!
500 Duel Dollars!
Poison Skies lay there, somehow not beaten and bleeding, feeling like all she needed was maybe a bandaid and an ice pack to go again. Her mind still whirling as she came down from the high of her sudden transformation. Brain struggled to fit who she was with who she had been. Her not-so-quite-reflection was already walking off.
“Nice fight, but if you plan to rematch me, bring your A-game sister,” she said as she flipped hair hair over her shoulder and stuck a pose against the setting sun.
“Ah… sure,” Skies said, post-nut clarity returning with avengence, but not with any release from her now be-cocked and muscled state. She’d become some sort of hyper sexual parody of an already femme fatale and the reality of it had only begun to sink in as she tucked her no now longer ready to fuck cock back into her panties and beneath her skirt. The crowd was starting to disperse and-
“Oh shit!”
She was going to miss her flight!
Sun May 11 11:24:50 2025
3 comments Last updated: Sun May 11 15:28:01 2025