From a distance, Circe watched as Jan and her friends strutted their way into the club, their lives irrevocably altered by the power of a wish. But there was an opportunity to keep the wish going, and to spread its influence on a wider scale. The club that Jan had so carelessly wished for a shortcut into, the Jupiter, was not the sort of club that catered to the bimbo sluts that they had become. It was instead a relatively upscale club, one where girls would go to party and have a good time, but it was not a slut-stop. In fact, there was a decent chance that, despite the doorman acquiescing and letting the party through, they would be thrown out for any number of reasons, whether it was dress code, vulgarity, or just getting too friendly with other patrons or the staff.
The Jupiter had a reputation to uphold, after all. That was, however, until with but a push of her power, she put a new spark in Jan’s wish, and the very foundation upon which the club was constructed began to shake, its architecture set to rebuild itself into a place fit for Jan and company. A place where sluts and bimbos could be free to indulge.
And of course, this would affect those already inside the club, as well.
******
Maxine Tanaka, the hard-working manager of the Jupiter, had her work cut out for her. Running any business had its set of unique challenges, and a nightclub was no different. She needed the staff to always be at the top of their game, lest the other clubs in town steal away their clientele, whether it be the general public or the VIP guests. Events like musical acts required coordination, food and drink needed to be inventoried, sorted, stocked, and prepared. Whether it was the bar, the seating, the dance floor, or the restrooms, everything needed to be kept spotless. And of course, security needed to be measured to give the patrons a sense of comfort, but tight enough to keep troublemakers and rule-breakers out.
Standing near the entrance in her sleek black pantsuit and white blouse, Maxine was on her phone with the club’s owner, Fiona White, in their usual nightly call, and watched with focused eyes the comings and goings within the club’s walls.
“Yes, the charity auction is still on for tonight,” Maxine said. “Do you want to hold off on starting it until you arrive?” She brushed strands of her raven-headed bob away from her ear. “A delay is possible, within a reasonable timeframe, of cour--hmm?”
Who the fuck let them in here?!
Maxine scowled as a quartet of women she could only think of as Sluts with a capital S came strutting through the entrance. With a sigh, she spoke to Fiona. “I’ll call you back. Some people just entered the club that I’ll need to see escorted out immediately.”
Pocketing her phone, Maxine wasn’t sure which of the four “guests” offended her senses the most. The one in garish animal print, the one that appeared to consider “gold” a personality trait, the ultra-pink Barbie parody, or the stoner trash? She reached for the two-way radio in the belt clip on her hip and prepared to call security when a light tremor struck. Not a powerful quake, but one that shook the ground under her feet enough, and that caused a flickering of the dimmed lights, for her to take note. And in that moment that she stopped to take stock once more, and to see if the small shake would be followed by something bigger, a second quake struck. A powerful quake, not in the earth or the building, but within her body.
“Ah!” Maxine gasped as her bones rattled and her flesh contorted. She stared, agog, as her slight bust surged outward in a violent growth spurt that would have thrown her off balance had she not felt similar surges in her ass and hips. Buttons exploded off of her blouse in a burstfire as seems in her pants tore, leaving the designer garments in need of repair as her figure remolded itself with large amounts of silicone.
The damaged clothes shrank against Maxine’s form until they were tight against her skin, and then began to merge into one garment. For a brief moment, she looked as though she were encased in an unsightly, nonsensical jumpsuit, but the changes progressed further, the fabric thinning away until little but threads and cords of netting remained. From neck to toe, Maxine’s new curves became clear for all to see in a fishnet bodystocking that hugged every enhanced and exaggerated curve, with the only modesty coming in the form of strips of electrical tape covering her nipples in black crosses, and aa black thong wedged tight in her round, surgically enhanced ass.
Dizzy and disoriented, Max held her head as her sleek bob grew into a wavy mane of silky blackness that fell to the new shelf of her backside, and her fingernails grew long and black, as well. She stepped back, her feet now clad in shiny, black thigh-high boots with spiked four-inch heels, and then forward, her dazed, startled expression emphasized by her collagen-enhanced lips and heavy, smokey makeup.
Maxi’s mind blanked, her thoughts completely disorganized as a pair of hoop-earrings dangled at the sides of her head, framing her face as the faint wrinkles in her thirty-five-year-old features smoothed and her cheekbones rose, giving her the look of olive-skinned doll. And in a final touch, a black choker wrapped around her slender neck. On it was the name of a club, but not not the one that Maxine Tanaka worked for. No, this was a different club. A new club…
*****
“Hey! Hey, you sluts! Get back here!”
The four stopped and looked at the woman dressed in little more than netting.
“What do you want?” Jan asked.
The woman that was Maxine Tanaka strutted toward the patrons with a curious, hungry glint in her brown eyes. “Don’t know me?”
“Like…” Lori gawked, her vacant eyes staring in wonder as though what few brain cells she had disagreed on what to say. “...No?”
“You must be new!” The former Maxine reached into her cleavage and pulled out a business card. “Name’s Maxxxi. Trashy Maxxi if you wanna talk business, or just Maxxi if you wanna talk personal.”
“What’s the difference?” Jan asked.
“None.” Maxxxi licked her black lips, and admired the midnight shade of Jan’s own. “Anyway, I’m the manager here at Club VDF.”
“Duuuuude, really?” Nika flashed a stoned grin. “Hey, uh...what’s the VDF mean?”
“Venus D’Fellatio.” Maxxxi smirked. “And you four look like you’ve sucked more cock than most.”
Jan licked her lips. “So what do you want?”
“The club is having a charity auction tonight,” Maxxxi eyed each of the four in turn, sizing up their various qualities from fashion, to the amount of work they had done. “First, everyone votes on the contestants for the Queen Venus of the night. And then the bidding begins. Winner of the auction gets the personal services of the winner of the vote for the rest of the night.”
“So Queen Venus is the personal fucktoy of the auction winner?” Penelope licked her lips. “Fuck, that’s hot!”
“Not just a personal fucktoy!” Maxxxi eyed Penelope’s golden makeup, seeing an element that signaled she was a skank with style. “The winner can share Queen Venus with the whole damn club if they want!”
“What do you think, Lori?” Jan gave her sister’s ass a grope, making the blonde coo. “Wanna be the whole club’s cum dump until dawn?”
Lori giggled. “That totes sounds hawt!”
Mon Aug 09 00:22:42 2021
4 comments Last updated: Mon Aug 30 08:13:01 2021