Despite having her name, sex, and entire nature beaten out of her moments ago and then immediately and thoroughly replaced with something else, Poison Skies was feeling like a thousand bucks by the time she got back to the air bridge and boarded her flight. A spring in her heeled step, a way in her thick thighs, and the kind of confidence only the thickest, fattest girl-cock and accompanying balls could give a gal. Her rolling luggage bounced behind her as she entered the jumbo jet, though now bedecked with Metro City Sharks and Shadow Ninja Gang stickers.
Much like her old name, it seemed like everything about her had been wiped over and remade into some new, lewd, and lurid form. She knew she was different, knew she’d had a cunt and lacked a set of bolt-on ballistics proudly filling out her tiny new top, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember all the details right anymore.
Her name had been… Chance? Clarence? She was pretty sure she hadn’t been a man (in any sense) before she became one between the legs (and probably in a lot of other places if the subtle hint of an Addam’s apple and how even her voice was almost but not quite right for her near doppelganger. But any attempt to lock on, wrestle the truth of her past out of the haze of punched up new identity was found missing. She had been wronged by this… right? She wasn’t supposed to be this person and-
“Finally!” An irritated voice broke into her musing as she turned to see one of the flight attendants, far more reasonably dressed and proportioned in each and every way. Shorter by far (so about how tall she had been Skies thought) and glaring up at her as she tapped sensible blue pumps that matched her modest outfit. Rolling her eyes as she looked Skies up and down and shook her head. “Figures… whatever, you’re with me. Just do what I tell you and keep the weird street fights till we land.”
Poison Skies blinked, confusion before she realized that her complete and utter defeat (and subsequent transformation) had been witnessed by no small portion of the flight’s staff and passengers. Yet despite that the flush of shame that came to her cheeks had her smiling luridly back, her attempt to honestly answer or question how anyone could treat this as normal instead coming out as, “Oh, but of course. I wouldn’t dream of making too much… turbulence.”
“Whatever, just… ugh, whatever,” the woman said again, turning towards the entrance to the passenger cabin, taking a deep breath and affecting a smile she clearly didn’t feel after knowing her partner for the flight was going to be Poison Skies. Leaving the changed woman… womyn(?)... to try and think of her next step, finally deciding to stow her luggage in the stewardess compartment and step through on the other side of the double lanes down the large cabin.
“Good evening everyone. I am Scarlett O’neil and I will be walking you through our preflight announcements. Drinks and refreshments are served complimentary on this non-stop flight to Metro City. First, take notice if you are seated in an emergency exit and-”
She continued on, going over details each and everyone had heard a hundred times before. All while Skies stood in uneasy attention. Noticing quickly how despite being only in the background she drew every eye towards herself.
As it should be.
The thought came suddenly, inexplicably, but it came none-the-less. She smiled back at the passengers, noting well dressed business men (High-rollers and high fliers), a dirty old man, complete with a bald spot and eyes locked on her own set of far more respectable flotation devices as Scarlett went over how to blow up the ones the airline provided (I bet you’d love for me to blow on something for you…), a couple young and clearly horny college boys nudging each other as they gaped at her statue form (Don’t worry boys, I know EXACTLY how to treat you right). Even the women (I was like you girls… but now I’m better) be they envious, jealous, bitter, resentful… or shamefully wanting… she drank it in one and all.
“-and we’re glad to serve you on this flight, so make yourself comfortable and get ready for take off and-”
She relished it all like she never knew she could before!
“Get ready to fly these Poison Skies.” It took her a long moment to realize she’d said that aloud, noticing first the utter stank eye that Scarlett had leveled on her as she turned and went back to the staff area, leaving Skies by herself. Who took her sweet time to slowly turn, give them all an eye full of her sweet assets and then sashay back as well. Turning she blew a kiss from her cool, blue lips and placed hand on her hips before she drew back the curtain and exited. Coming face to face, or augmented bust as it was to face given how pathetically short this little girl was with a very annoyed Scarlett. Face as red as her namesake and fuming.
“You know I’ve come to expect such a lack of… professionalism from Metro City hirers, but you really are something else. Dressed like… like…
“Like a whore, some kind of flight attendant porn star? A lady about to do a gender pushing photo shoot bent over and spreading in first class?” Skies knew it, felt it, and despite knowing she should be practically catatonic in shame she could only summon a smirk in return. Thrusting her chest out with an even more pronounced bounce, she instead said, “Jealous you can’t pull off this look?”
Brushing past the stunned woman, Skies shook her head as she tried to recenter her thoughts, tried to summon up… Carry or whoever she had been. This was wrong. She wasn’t some kind of super strong hedonist with a masochistic streak and massive cock. She wasn’t even a flight attendant, let alone a sexy one!
What the hell had happened to her?!
And why wasn’t she panicking like she damn well should be.
***
They’d taken off and come to a cruising altitude with no issues, hours out on their flight and near full booking it was now time to work her (new) job. Skies wasn’t sure in the slightest how exactly one went from middle management (okay, so she remembered that, and it being so boring she couldn’t wait to cut loose with non-alcoholic drinks hanging out with positively boring college friends) to some kind of sexy stewardess that was just allowed to wear whatever she wanted apparently. But she had been and now clearly was, so she just had to roll with it.
“We will now begin our complimentary drink service,” Scarlett said from one side of the aisle as she took hold of her cart. “Special drinks may be purchased from the in-flight menu in your front seat pocket.”
Skies smiled as she came behind her own cart, starting to push it forward. Just as the plane hit a brief surge of turbulence and-
Bonus Stage!
Mile High Beverage Bash!
Poison Skies
Get Ready and… Serve!
-the voice of the announcer came again as she started to roll her cart forward, every step coming with an exaggerated sway of her hips as she put a luscious smile on her thick lips and asked in her deeper, huskier, and all around obviously sexier voice.
“How may Poison Skies serve you tonight?”
“Uh… I-I’ll have a beer?” said the first brave boy. Someone clearly flying back to college at Metro City U and no matter how experienced he was, he’d never flown the Poison Skies before. The thought of showing him an experience made her not-so-little replacement for her erased kitty throb and swell. She leaned down, pulling out a bottle of the flight’s supply of quality lagers. With almost contemptuous ease she snapped the cap off with her thumb… and then put the bottle itself into the tight, snug holster of her uniform's natural boob window. Held tight by her unnatural augmentation she bent kneeled down, letting the bottle rock from side to side, a slight ejaculation of the beer's foam spilling out and onto her massively round boobs as she stood up and placed cup into his waiting, now trembling, hands. She bent over, slowly, so the beer poured out and into the waiting cup. One hand gripped to the seat cushion while the other held her left breast and with skill and adeptness she’d never known she’d had (because she hadn’t before it had been knocked into her head as she’d grown these massive knockers) she measured out exactly one half of the bottle into his cup.
“I’d leave the bottle, but I bet you’d prefer me to handle it wouldn’t you, big boy?”
“Uh… uh-huh,” He replied, stupified, shorts tented, and clearly ready to give her the hardest of five star reviews before the flight landed.
Skies smiled as she moved on to the next row. She was a natural at this!
***
Scarlett just stared. And stared.
And stared.
That… flagrant, shameless, utterly debased hussy! She was an embarrassment to her uniform, to her gender. To… everything!
Why, she was going to file a complaint as soon as they landed and-
“Ma’am.”
-she’d make sure this Poison Skies never flew in anything anymore, unless it was a cargo plane or-
“Ma’am can we get a-”
-some low-taste millionaire’s personal jet where she could gallivant around with her fake as fake boobs out and wearing next to nothing like she clearly wanted to and-
“MA’AM!”
Scarlett turned and looked at the man glaring at her, hairpiece askew as he looked quite flush faced from yelling at her. And then at the small group of people nearby also staring at her as she embarrassed herself (somehow) while in the presence of that embarrassing woman by completely zoning out and just glaring at her for a good minute or more.
“Right sir, of course. What can I get you?”
“I’d like a beer too, if you don’t mind,” he said, looking over with some measure of envy at the passengers lucky enough to be served by Poison Skies and not by herself. The responible, proper, and clearly superior attendant who-
Scarlett’s face grew warm and hot, hands bunched tight at her sides. No! She would not be outdone by that… that… that…
Bonus Stage!
Mile High Beverage Bash!
[Scarlett O’Neil]
Get Ready and… Serve!
Hussy!
She blinked, confused as she’d heard a loud booming voice all of a sudden, and the inflight music pitching towards something new and catchy midstep. Instead she shook her head, driving by instinct to quickly and efficiently serve her passengers as only an experienced flight attendant could (and not as that porno parody wannabe ever would!).
“Why of course sir, coming right up,” she said, bending over and fetching out a cold one from the contents of the cart. Fiddling for the bottle opener she rocked to the side as turbulence hit, sucking in a breath as her chest tightened. Fighting for freedom as she tore her eyes away from Poison Skies again, seeing her plastic stuffed funbags swing low as she used them to pour another cup to another oh-so lucky patron!
Left eye twitching, Scarlett sucked in a deep breath and-
Snap!
Pop!
One button tore loose and another popped off as her chest dramatically and quite violently inflated, an airbag of fleshy sex filling up and out before her stunned eyes and the suddenly leering gaze of the gentleman waiting for her to pour him a drink. Her bra should be showing, but instead it was tight, shiny, and fire engine red.
What
The
Fuck!?
She sucked in another breath, which only made the problem worse. Air turned fantastic titty inflating mass as her bosom expanded again, the bottom of her bottle knocked to the side as she spilled beer onto her rising boobage and suddenly moaned at the sensation of her engorged, throbbing, and fast swelling titty flesh coming into contact with such contrasting sensations. Which, of course, only made the problem worse.
Gusss-ssshhh…
She felt it.
She heard it.
And she certainly saw it.
Her boobs rounded, swelled again, and pushed out like a pair of pale volleyballs, nipples fatter and thicker and poking through the red material of her neo-stewerdess top as her chest came to rival her partners in record time. Barely a b-cup naturally to at least a pair of very horny, very fake Hs in what must have been less than a minute but now felt like a lifetime ago.
“Uh… ma’am?” asked the man quietly, either as stunned by her sudden transformation as she felt or more focused on the beer he wanted and wasn’t being given as half of it now made her newly swollen bosom slick and shiny.
“Here-ya-go,” Scarlett said quickly, practically shoving the drink into his hands as she turned and moved further down the aisle. Mind whirling, unable to process how she had changed nor how no one was acknowledging it!
How.
Why.
WHAT-THE-
Poison Skies
Score: 1000
[Scarlett O’Neil]
Score: 200
-FUCK?!
How was her score so much lower already?!
***
“Another beer… well,” Skies said, looking into the cart, perfectly pouty lips turning into a frown as she rose up. “Sorry miss, but it looks like we’re all out of those.”
Not surprising, since after the first bottle got boob holstered she’d been asked to serve one after another till she’d ran dry before getting even a third of the way through First Class.
“Oh… well in that case,” the clearly and cutely embarrassed woman said, “can I get a… Red Eye to Cancun?”
“No problem,” Skies said, pulling the ingredients from where they were stored in drawers along the cart with rapid and experienced skill. Hands guided by memories she didn’t have she sliced the lime quickly, thin and perfectly formed slices laid out along the preparation portion of the cart before she uncorked a bottle of tequila with her teeth. She spat the cork up and let it land deftly between her breasts as she poured out the liquor. With a quick upward thrust she sent the cork into the air again where she caught it and then slid it back into the bottle.
She pulled out the tomato sauce and hot sauce bottles quickly, spun them around her fingers and uncapped them to mix the next two ingredients into the drink. A little salt and pepper for spice and then it was nearly ready…
She secured the drink mixer beside the cart as she pulled out a small bag of pretzels… which were side between her breasts before she began to shake it in earnest. Up and down, side to side… her body moved as she moved, as she shook and jerked it with wanton abandon. Hips swaying and bosom tight against the taut, barely capable of holding the top she wore. Before she felt it ready at last and put it to the side, pouring the crushed rushed pretzels onto the cart, and with a wetted glass she encrusted the lip with the salty remains…
And poured the drink into the waiting up as she bent low and handed it to the waiting woman. Cocktail served with a kiss… and hardening gock that so wanted this woman to know she had. To let her see, feel, experience the twat tickling tool that had replaced her own pussy and grown so very big and so very proudly and-
There she went again. Getting all into being who she now was.
Poison Skies
Hard-On Cocktail Bonus!
Score: 4500
[Scarlett O’Neil]
Score: 1200
Skies shook her head, long blue hair trailing behind and not quite covering her massive heart shaped rear as she strutted forward. She was really having trouble keeping it together wasn’t she?
***
Scarlett was barely keeping it together!
Her breasts were just stupid!
Stupid big.
Stupid round.
Stupidly bouncy
And now stupidly fake!
They stuck out all wrong and right on her chest, a pair of swollen sex orbs that drew attention and kept it and she hated it so much as she bent over again and served another beer, feeling her bosom move from side to side in the mild rocking of the plane and knowing, knowing, that this guy was utterly fixated on her tits!
No one ever looked at them before!
Because they were normal!
And now they can’t keep their eyes off me!
She hated this!
She LOVED-
“Ma’am can I have-”
“Yeah, yeah, another beer,” Scarlett hissed, her pouting lips swelling as the air escaped them, tasteful rose becoming fire engine red as she brushed her hair back. She was working up a sweat and it wasn’t just from having what felt like a pair of plastic dumbbells attached to her chest out of nowhere and for no good reason.
“No, I was thinking I’d like a… Blue Buster.”
A what? She tried to remember, lips pursed tight with concentration as they went from eminently kissable to nearly perfect cock-suckers mid thought. She scratched at her head, light brunette locks turning dark crimson as they grew and grew, till at least she bent over, hair falling past her shoulders for the first time in almost a decade of sensible short cuts as she looked at the drink menu. Eyes blinking as she saw what was clearly a re-named variation of a kamikaze cocktail, but with a different name…
“Sure, coming right up,” Scarlett said, rising up and banging her head against the luggage compartment. She’d swore it was higher up (or she was shorter). Instead she winced, rubbing away the pain as her hair flowed further and she kneeled low. Hips widening as her skirt tore at the seams, her sensible pumps hot red and spiking up as her ass swayed from side to side. Mini-vodka bottle, a fresh lime, blue curaçao… there it was. She stood up, eyes widening in shock as her embiggened rear pushed out and her skirt tore. Thankfully no one seemed to notice her clothes ripping free, even the man beside her taking in an eyeful. But then he was a leg man, and the sight of her now fishnet covered legs, socks well along the way to becoming the sheer dark material, was all he could seem to focus on. Even then he missed the reality of her pale flesh going almost cocoa brown, a deep and dark tan that was more than natural sun but must have been a change in her complexion as a whole bubbled up from her hot red pumps like they were setting a fire under the changing shade.
Instead she scooped up the ice, surprised that it wasn’t crushed already. Before she could think to get a mallet out or use any tool she simply brought her hands together with a hard clap. Arms straining, muscles bulging, her stewardess blouse tore from shoulders to forearms as every part of her upper body (sans her already massive melons) grew outward. Moments later she let the now hand crushed ice fall into the mixer. She brought both bottles of liquor to her lips and bit down, yanking the corks out simultaneously to the sound of duel pops.
Wincing as her insides twisted and cramped for some bizarre reason…
And then poured.
She gave them both an extra bit at the end before putting the pair of bottles to the side. Glaring over at Poison Skies again, Scarlett went extra for her show, winking at the man and simply bit through the lime, skin and all. Before squeezing the required amount into the bottle.
Non-hygienic?
Perhaps.
But she could tell this man would pay for a taste of her Scarlett touch so an indirect kiss was practically giving herself away. Not that she wasn’t already with all the show her red hot sexy bod was doing and-
“Wow there Scarlett. You need to calm down. This isn’t normal… this is weird!” Damn weird. She’d come to work and she’d been dressed up like a flight nun and not a proper flight attendant. At least Poison Skies had been wearing the right clothes and-
Wait, that wasn’t right?
Was it?
No, she was sure something was very wrong.
Like her mixing. She wasn’t putting near enough effort into it. She redoubled, really shaking, twisting, jerking, practically dancing to the song that had been playing since they’d started serving drinks. And with a creak, a crack, and pop of her hips as her pants split open and her too tight, too red skirt showed through, Scarlett popped open the mixer and strained out the neon blue drink into the waiting glass.
Glancing over she smirked at her now near duplicate in blue, only to frown as she saw that she’d just gotten down making a Raspberry Buster for a flush faced gentleman that was probably going to have heart attack with his hardon if he didn’t calm down from the show Poison Skies was putting on.
Ooh, she hated that bitch!
Poison Skies
Hard-On Cocktail Bonus X4
Score: 9800
[Scarlett O’Neil]
Hard-On Cocktail Bonus
Score: 5400
She’d show her! One way or another!
***
“You want a what?”
“A… Shoryuken?” They said, looking at the menu carefully. “It says only on special request… ‘The Dragon Punch’?”
She looked at the menu again, not sure exactly what they were asking for at first, but the longer she stared at the dark red, almost crimson-black drink topped with a flame the more she seemed to know how to make it. And it was a real killer.
“Sure, you just sit back and let Poison Skies work her magic,” she said, pulling out the very special ingredients for this one. The pre-made syrup, tightly nestled in a specialty chilled bottle which she set between her bosom as she worked. The cold against tits, making her nipples as erect as her semi-hard cock, was a delight the more she experienced it. Part of her wanted to really go all out, bare chested and letting her melt the pair of ice cubes for the drink on her breasts but she supposed something had to be saved for later…
As it was she poured the white rum into the mixer, followed by the thyme. For the lemon she followed her partner’s antics across the aisle, biting in deep and squeezing the lemon over the mixer as she worked quickly.
Noting as she did that she was in a race.
Apparently someone had ordered the same drink from Scarlett and-
“Huh. She looks different now,” Skies thought, taking in the bodacious upgrade in height, hair volume, musculature and more that had been going on beside her while she worked. Again, she should be shocked, appalled to see another woman brought so low, changed, corrupted by this perverse force…
But instead it only made her hot and hornier to feel like she had some real competition again.
***
Scarlett held the two ice cubes in her hands, rubbing them against the red and black of her shiny too-tight top, just where her nipples were to make them pop out just a bit more. Before dropping both into the mixer and capping it off.
“Let’s see that neon blue skank top this one!”
She went at it with extra enthusiasm this time, shaking up and down, gyrating her whole body as she felt flushed and hot. The darkening coloration had ridden up across her midriff and hit her breasts, where now they were swiftly turning into a pair of massive orbs of cocoa shaded sensuality from the pale and freckled form she’d had before her bosom had so suddenly and swiftly swollen up and out with fat and silicone. Her eyes closed and her lips opened wide, moaning as she went at it harder and harder still. Jerking forward as something else hardened!
No.
YES
No…
YES!
She slipped the mixer between her breasts as she turned around, continuing her sensual dance, her near pornographic near striptease to all of First Class. Hitching up her skirt she looked down…
And then up.
Poison Kiss was smirking at her from across the aisle, the silver shaft of the drink mixer held out before her like a faux cock… like her real cock.
Like the one that-
“Ooh~.”
She moaned, a bitch in heat for however longer she remained one properly. She felt her insides shift and twist and change as she rocked from side to side. The drink mixing on the quaking vibrations of her own annihilating femininity. Her voice dropped in octaves as she gripped harder on the cart, new muscles straining as the stainless steel threatened to buckle beneath her grip. So hard.
So fucking hard.
It pushed and throbbed. It swelled and jerked. She pushed, she clenched, buttocks tight as her hips strained, her body mocking birth as it prepared to birth something at last.
Again and again she gasped, humping the cart, bottles shaking the very plane hitting a string of turbulent shocks, one after another. Cunt annihilating orgasms rode through her as she felt her bosom swell again. It hadn’t been big enough, no, of course not! Poison Skies huge ass knockers needed to be matched, perfectly equaled in every way! Her body was but a canvas, her identity not but raw materials for perfect match, for an equal drawn from who she had been.
Into…
Into…
Into…
“Oh my-gawd da-aaamn!”
*POP*
Into who she now was!
*POP*
Her tented skirt was hidden as she leaned forward, rock hard cock, strainging panties and more as it punched against the cart. Pushing it forward even as it grew longer, thicker. The massive gock a girl like Scarlett Skies needed. She poured the drink and with a smirk on her crimson lips she looked over Poison Skies. Who snapped her fingers, strange blue-pink flames forming at the tips as she ignited the drink.
“Anything you can do…”
I can do better!
Her cock swelled more, her balls dropped lower, new sex and new hormones racing through her as masculinity fought an almost winning battle against her past femininity. Till the balance twisted and reached a Poisonous conclusion. The same collar, the same style, the same body in almost perfect reflection. The same hands made the same sharp snap, though her flames were red hot-red pink as she lit the drink and placed it before the passenger. Walking off and past the curtains, hips swaying, a smirk on her lips at the extravagance of her new shape…
While somewhere deep inside Scarlett… O’Brien… Oakley?
She tried to remember, tried to find the horror and shock… but instead she only found annoyance.
Somehow this was Poison Skies fault, that skanky neon slut! As if she wasn’t woman enough to compete as the woman she had been so she’d had to change?! Oh, she’d show her how much she ‘appreciated’ this…
As soon as they had some private time… or public.
Scarlett Skies wasn’t sure if she wanted to fuck her senseless or beat her unconscious, only that her body was driving her on even as whatever part of her had been someone else was along for quite the ride…
Poison Skies
Hard-On Cocktail Bonus X4
Flaming Hot Bonus!
Score: 20500
Scarlett Skies
Hard-On Cocktail Bonus
Flaming Hot Bonus!
Score: 15400
Winner… Poison Skies!
250 Duel Dollars Awarded
Sun May 11 15:12:22 2025