For the first time in weeks, Didi felt a sense of lucidity she forgot she had always possessed. Being dumb, ditzy and docile was like a warm jacuzzi. Massaging her brain into an intoxicating state of sparkly, giggly simplicity. But now, she was back to her senses. Mostly…
“Oh… my… god…”
She ran her tackily manicured hands up and down her amplified curves. Finally feeling embarrassed to be seen in such a state of undress in public. The way she had so unashamedly reveled in her dramatically boobified body felt like a dream she was just waking up from. Her fingers guiltily drank in the sheer size and shape of her incredible cans.
“Is this… really me?”
“Oh yes, darling. It’s you, filtered through a few layers of tasteless male fantasy. Honestly, it’s a wonder men get anything done at all. With their ridiculous little pricks running the show all the time”
The sorceress seemed to barely be paying attention to this conversation, like a cat toying with her meal. Didi’s work friends had assembled around them, shocked and stunned by this incredibly strange patron, and the equally weird conversation she initiated.
Didi shuddered, glancing around the smokey neon desolation of the strip club where she worked. Where she had been working for some time now. All those things lingered in her memory like a slightly off taste in her mouth.
And, now that she was sobering up. She felt kind of… naughty.
She bit her lip, rubbing her nipples in tiny little semi circles. Her body was perfect, her tits were perfect. Her supercharged sex life with her movie star handsome boyfriend was perfect.
“Hello? Didi?” The sultry sorceress with the malicious gaze chimed in. Causing Didi to shake her head, an action that had serious consequences for the structural integrity of her massive milkers.
For the first time with fresh eyes, Didi was now seeing her newly expanded bust with a clear head. Everything she loathed about being a chesty gal in a not inconsiderably sexist society was now magnified. All the catcalls, wolf whistles and unwanted oversexualization would be worse than ever before, with her body like this.
“I… I can’t stay like this”
“You don’t have to” Circe idly tapped her nails on the cheap linoleum table.
“I mean… No one will take me seriously…”
“No, I should think not. Life’s unfair like that”
The decision was clear, whatever magic changed her to be like this, could just change her back. Didi was unsure if reason applied in the realm of the supernatural. But that did seem mighty reasonable.
Then, there was Mark. The one ray of unambiguous good in this entire magical moral morass. If she wished for things to go back to normal, would he still love her? If her boobs went back to normal, would he even look her way?
“I… I don’t know what to wish for. It’s really complicated…”
“What’s complicated darling?”
“Like, everything! On top of all my normal life stuff, now magic is real!… And also…”
“Also what?” Circe arched an eyebrow. Finally fully invested in what her victim had to say.
“I just… wasn’t expecting to fall in love with this stupid douche from my math program” Didi’s eyes suddenly opened wide. Besides being ridiculously busty, she was now a university drop out stripper. The reality hit like a nauseating punch to the gut.
Circe seemed to shudder, just a bit. The rainbow lines of light across her skin shimmering as she moved unnaturally. “Ahh! There it is! Something you really, really want. Use that to power your wish, darling. With that much desire, anything is possible”
“Ugh… F-fine! I just want everything to be simple again. I want things to be easy”
“The desire is coming through, loud and clear. But you need to phrase it as a wish”
“I wish…”
“Yes…?”
“I wish for…”
Despite herself, Circe licked her lips. Betraying the hunger that lingered just beneath the surface. “I wish for…..?”
“I wish for giant fake tits” Didi’s breath now came out in sharp heaving gasps. It was too late to regret her unbelievable words, even as they escaped her own disbelieving lips.
“Th-that’s too easy! Are you kidding me?” For once, Circe herself was at a loss. “I could just turn you into a doll. Or… Or a pair of silicone implants. Or like, I don’t know. Just give you the implants, but outside your body. Or something… Where did that wish even come from?”
“I don’t know! You said I could pick whatever life I wanted! I choose this one, where I’m stupid and pretty! And me and Mark are together…”
The crowd of onlookers only grew more shocked at this development. Circe, in a bid to regain composure, lit another cigarette from the remaining embers of the one already smoldering in her hand. “I just didn’t expect you to pick something so stupid”
“Sorry” Didi’s head shrunk into her shoulders. “I was just trying to channel my inner airhead. It’s been going pretty well for me up until now…”
“Indeed. Um… fine. You know what? I’m just gonna give you this one. One wish, no weird twist. But it’s only because you made it too easy… There’s no point if there’s no chase”
“Ok, thanks. Umm, what if I change my mind though?”
At that, a bit of the predator in Circe's features came back to the forefront. “Darling, it’s far too late for that”
“Oh… Shit…”
The sorceress stood, striking a dramatic pose with her thin arms stretched out to the side. The rainbow hue that criss-crossed her mortal guise now swirled about, entering the peculiar amulet she kept strung around her neck. The shimmering liquid light built up until it suffused her entire form.
“On second thought, maybe I’ll just wish for Mark to love me as I am…”
True to her word, there would be no going back for Didi Diaz. brightly crackling sparks of phantasmal rainbow lightning shot from Circe’s long slender fingers. Licking at Didi’s body as the magic brought its transformative powers to bear.
In an instant, Didi knew she was making a mistake. Her own body had no choice but to betray her, as pulsing arcs of orgasmic supernatural power forced her to her knees. She was in the thrall of the ravenous sorceress now, and there would be no resistance.
Mewling, moaning and gasping. Didi crawled along the floor, in a vain attempt to put some distance between her and Circe. Lighting lashed at her fat, upturned ass. As if to punish her for deigning to waste the time of someone so important and busy. There was a distinct whip-crack sound that accompanied each and every stinging caress.
“Sorry darling. Just having a bit of fun with it. You don’t mind, do you?” Circe’s voice was playfully condescending, and reverberated with eldritch energy.
“N-no mistress” Something about the mind shattering, pussy melting punishment she was being subjected to, just told Didi that was the appropriate response. Similarly, her body was beginning to submit to the arcane assault. She felt herself surrendering, her sense of self becoming malleable as her body rippled and flowed like workable clay.
Circe tightened her grip, causing poor Didi to dissolve into a shimmering rainbow ball of protoplasmic ooze. Forming and reforming into a strange array of abstract and geometric shapes, before being allowed to resume her normal form again.
The assembled crowd of overworked, exhausted strippers could only scream in terror at the unnatural display in front of them. One girl fainted, perhaps thinking that the bartender standing nearby would have the presence of mind to catch her. Instead, she fell to the ground with a thunk. Which could barely be heard over Didi’s blissful orgasmic wailing.
“Enough!” Circe shouted, extending her free hand out at the interlopers, magically immobilizing them. So there would be no further interruptions. “I can’t think with all your pointless mortal screeching!”
Didi was a physical and emotional wreck, crawling around the floor. Her pussy now dripping wet from the experience of having her entire being wrung out like an old cloth. She didn’t know whether to attempt escape, or continue submitting to her magical makeover.
The sorceress stalked up on her heels to admire her handiwork. Tapping her chin with a dainty finger as little arcs of ambient energy jumped between her and her victim. “Right, I implied I would honour the intent of the wish. So nice of me, I know”
“Th-thank you mistress” Didi gasped out, even as her blazing pussy was brought to the verge of a shattering orgasm by Circe's mere proximity.
“Shh. I’m thinking”
“Yes mistress… Sorry mis-”
There was a swift, unexpected swat on Didi’s behind. One which briefly, beautifully transformed her entire being into a screeching animalistic orgasm. In that instant, she didn’t just experience an orgasm, she was an orgasm. Didi’s infinitely malleable body had been totally obliterated for one moment. And in that moment of complete metaphysical surrender. She was transformed into pure orgasmic devastation.
An all consuming orgasmic moan filled the smokey club. Dazzling motes of of kaleidoscopic lights shot out from where Didi had been. Prone and pathetic on the floor, eagerly anticipating a punishment that she never could have known would literally and figuratively blow her mind. Along with the mutable and malleable body that she mistakenly believed to be her own.
Her body reformed, laying flat on the filthy floor with her tongue lolling out. There would be no words out of her mouth for quite some time now, only a puddle of saliva forming about her face. Didi’s eyes were crossed, in a perpetual look of out of body pleasure. And it might be a long time before her mind ever caught back up to her.
“There, that shut her up”
With a flick of her wrist, Circe lifted her victim via invisible waves of force. She strutted around, cocked her head and clucked her tongue. Wondering if she would regret breaking her word on some kind of abstract, moralistic level.
“Fine… I’ll be true to my word. Two extra-extra large fake tits. No strings attached. Aren’t I generous?”
A dazzling flash of spectacular rainbow light consumed the room.
-
A vague, unplacable notion of regret permeated Didi’s mind as she blinked back to reality.
“Didi… Didi?”
All she could hear was the interminable pulsing of throbbing club music. Muted by the walls of her cheap, tacky dressing room. This wasn’t right, it couldn’t possibly be. She needed to get home to her boyfriend, she needed to study for her grueling math program.
She… She…
There was a pounding at the door.
“Didi” Came a gruff masculine voice. “You’re on right now. Get those tits in gear!”
She just needed some space to think
“C-coming!” Was all she could think to say. While eyeing her strangely familiar surroundings for an exit. She spied her heavily made up face in the mirror, and gasped at a set of puffy fake lips that were not her own. Or at least, not what she expected to see.
She tried to stand, tried to summon her faculties to escape from this strange situation. But, when she rose to her feet, she found there was an inexplicable weight in her chest. Causing her to tumble clumsily to the ground.
Now on her hands and knees, her frilly pink robe flew open. The reality set in as she attempted to rise once more, and glimpsed her own uncanny assets.
“Oh my god!” Her slutty cock-sucking mouth hung open in shock.
Didi Diaz had always been blessed and cursed in equal measure, with abnormally large and shapely breasts. All her life she felt forced to conceal them beneath baggy clothes and a slumping posture. But there could be no hiding what she was, what she had become, anymore.
The soft glow of her vanity mirror’s glamour lighting traced the unnaturally smooth and spherical shape of Didi’s enormously fake titties. Beneath her warm robe, she wore a flimsy stripperiffic approximation of a schoolgirl’s outfit. A gossamer thin pink tartan skirt was wrapped around her thick thighs, and a stretched and strained button up blouse was knotted securely to her chest.
Things were beginning to slide into place, as she ran her glittery pink acrylic nails over the flawless plastic perfection of her chest. She pouted petulantly into the mirror, wondering how the porn perfect goddess that stared back could actually be her. Her breasts were easily twice the size of her own head now, so ridiculously pumped up and fake that no one could ever take her seriously again.
She wobbled and tottered in her sky-high heels. Daintily fanning her hands out to catch her balance, before she found a natural poise she didn’t know she had. She blew strands of voluminous bleach blonde hair out of her face. Ran her glittery nails across her caked on, heavily made up face. Her eyes were ringed with indelicate gobs of midnight black liner, and her fake lips had been totally slathered with piles of glittery pink lipstick.
“This isn’t me… This isn’t…”
The impatient pounding at the door continued.
As Didi tried in vain to comprehend what was happening to her, a dull haze crept across her features. Try as she might, her mind couldn’t outrun the simple truth with which it was presented. Her body was an overstuffed silicone playground, made explicitly for the crass titillation of gawking onlookers.
The gift of lucidity that the sorceress gave her was rapidly winding down. Crushed beneath the undeniable weight of her absurdly perky plastic funbags. Only to be replaced by the slow and sobering realization that she had wanted this. Wished for this to happen to her.
It was all too much for a girl that was 99% plastic, and 1% brains. Didi doffed her robe, allowing it to fall to the dust caked floor and land in a fluffy pink pile. She placed the knuckle of her forefinger between her great big puffy lips, to soothe herself as she tilted her head and blinked vacantly at the goddess in the mirror.
Every little flutter of her fake lashes brought her closer to accepting the hypersexualized hottie that she had become. She squirmed, cocking her hips back and forth. Tilting her head inquisitively as she rubbed the last two brain cells she had left together, and tried to make sparks.
Her slutty mouth hung open, slack jawed and stupid, as she went about the motions of her life. Still not fully understanding why she was about to go on stage and shake her ginormous hooters for her fans. Only knowing that it’s what she had to do, what she wanted to do.
“Didi!” The pounding grew in urgency and volume. “How long-”
The door swung open, stopping Didi’s furious manager mid tirade. HIs chubby oven mit of a face was somewhere in the middle of turning bright red, when she revealed herself.
“Are you ok Didi?” He calmed down considerably. “Those expensive sweater kittens of yours are our star attractions. We need them in performing condition every night. Is that understood?”
“Uh-huh…”
She felt dazed, and she was sure she looked it too. Didi’s magnificent mountains exited the sleazy backstage room before she did. The condescending and objectifying way her manager spoke to her felt like it should have been a bigger deal. But it was only one straw on the heaps of humiliation she felt, as she slowly realized that her tits were always going to be the star of the show. Didi Diaz was like an afterthought to her own immense beach-ball boobs.
Her head swam, and she strode out toward the stage. On the other side of that curtain, was her destiny. She could hear the impatient hooting and hollering of the drass, careless crowd. The mind numbing pulse of the repetitive music blasting her sensing and drawing her in further. The other, more sensibly proportioned girls stopped and stared. Huddled together and whispered something catty to each other. They themselves ran the gamut from natural to distinctly enhanced, but even they could only see Didi as a truly spectacular oddity.
Didi stopped, feeling the velvety curtains between her fingers as she paused before the precipice of total surrender. Her breath quickened, her mind tried to grasp some fleeting ephemeral notion of resistance. Like there still might be some distant chance that she could turn around and undo… whatever she had done to herself.
“I’m… really, really smart…” She protested weakly. “I’m… more than just my tits…”
For a brief, beautiful moment. Didi felt like she was actually about to turn around and walk away. Maybe even go back to university and finish her degree.
That notion died an ignoble death, as she felt an unseen hand push her out onto the stage against her will.
She tottered daintily and clumsily. Trying to figure out just who had so rudely shoved her, before being utterly dazzled by the sight that greeted her. The look of pitiful mindfucked confusion swirled about her slutty features. Reaching epic proportions as she gazed stupidly out at the sea of admirirers. Packing the club, crushed up against the lip of the stage in an attempt to see her. To get closer to her.
“Didi! Didi!” The crowd roared.
The sweltering stage lights caused her to begin sweating immediately. The loud and oppressive atmosphere of the club was almost too much for the poor, confused girl to handle. As she looked around cluelessly, she saw multiple posters lining the room. Incredible floor to ceiling glamour shots of her bare breasts, plastered up and down the walls. Cast in the harsh smokey magenta light of the tacky, trashy stripclub.
‘Ditzy Didi’ the posters read. In an adorable loopy font. Her face was obscured above her smiling lips by the angle. Probably because it wasn’t as important as her two main features.
As the crowd roared her name, an all consuming vacuous smile slowly crept across her face. A sleek silver stripper pole adorned the end of the runway. Waiting for her in the milky spotlight. It was Didi’s destiny, beckoning her further in.
She stepped forward, uneasy at first. But enjoying the adulation of the crowd, more and more with each stride. She was a star now, That much was undeniable. Or, at least, her tits were stars. But they were her tits. So that kinda sorta made her like, the co-star. Or something…
Actually, Didi recalled that the house had sprung for her humongous silicone enhancements. So they weren’t her tits, not really. She had a lot of work left to do in order to pay them off. Luckily for her, she loved her work, almost as much as she loved the idea of literally being owned by the club.
With each step closer to the pole, with each second of thunderous cheers, Didi lost something.
Click-clack, her cheap and tacky stripper heels brought her closer and closer. And the silly notion of being some kind of math whiz evaporated.
Click-clack, the little bits of spanish she had left vanished. Being bilingual wasn’t even important, the only thing that men cared about was whether she was bisexual.
Click-clack, her desire to prove that she wasn’t just a spectacular set of whopping huge tits went up in smoke. How could she ever be dumb enough to think otherwise?
Ditzy Didi Diaz wrapped her fingers around the pole and struck a pose. Her bright vapid smile overpowered every last ounce of angst in her features, as she drank in the exhilarating adulation of the horny crowd.
All those eyes, all the dollar bills they showered on her, it was all for her. Didi just wasn’t herself if she wasn’t presenting her flawless and expensive adornments for gawking at. It was all a simple little sex doll like her could ever aspire to be. Sure, there were women out there, being doctors and lawyers and physicists and stuff. But in Didi’s mind, all those boring brainiacs just weren’t smart enough to understand their true value.
Didi was where she belonged. In the spotlight, on display. Her rail thin body twirled artlessy around the pole. The fact that she absolutely could not dance to save her life meant very little. As with everything else in her life, the sheer magnitude of her ballistically enormous udders could compensate.
And that total acceptance of her place, brought on one last tingle of magic. She sank to her knees, arching her back and thrusting her chest out dramatically. There was no need to use her hands to unknot her blouse. A burst of magic rippled through her body, causing the trashy stripper slut to moan and cum shamelessly in front of the crowd. Her top burst open as her big breasts magically expanded on the spot.
A scintillating rainbow aura outlined the pornographic curve of Didi’s rediculous hooters. Inch by inch, she continued expanding in front of the crowd. In three distinct bursts, her breasts went from way too big, to absolutely astronomical. Much to the collective approval of the salivating crowd.
Didi squealed with excitement. Clutching her bouncy mane of bleach blonde hair and looking down with astonishment at her chest. She gritted her teeth and squinted her eyes against the overpowering orgasmic force of yet another magical bosom boost. Little pleasure induced tears ran down her face, turning her already dubiously tasteful makeup into trashy trailer park ruin.
The crowd continued to bray for her breasts. Showering her with attention, adulation and money. At this point, security had totally lost control of the situation, and their greedy outstretched hands were mere inches away from her.
This was it, everything Didi could ever want. Her tits weren’t just spectacular. They were impossible. And she was perfect. A bright young student, reduced to nothing but an incredible set of plastic, porn perfect breasts.
And she just couldn’t wait to go bigger.
Mon Feb 21 01:07:28 2022
6 comments Last updated: Sun Feb 27 00:28:01 2022