Idol
- 3 years ago
- 14
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The Venus Idol free porn video
Disclaimer: This story is pure trite crammed onto a
hunk of silicon. But I don't care. I like it, and I'm
going to send it in anyway, because there are no other
pages I really want to send it to. If you only read
original, fresh stories (and _you're_ surfing a TG
fiction page?!), then keep looking. Otherwise,
continue on. So I can't come up with an original
story. Sue me. Gotta warn ya, though, my lawyer's a
psychotic mutant. Moving right along...
The Venus Idol
By Tanto
Brandon Webster walked, no trudged, forward. It was
only a massive amount of coffee that kept him awake
this late. He was working overtime, and he didn't get
paid for overtime. His thoughts were primarily on his
secure apartment and warm bed, trashy as both may have
been.
Brandon was in his early thirties, and already he had
sunk to what he considered an all-time low, janitorial
work. His job was to empty trashcans and mop the floor
of a massive mall after all the stores had closed.
Tonight, none of his co-workers had shown up, too many
beers was Brandon's bitter guess, so he had to work
all their shifts plus his own, with no extra pay.
The irony of his situation was that none of it was
really his fault. He actually had a college degree and
a steady job, but after being sued for sexual
harassment and subsequently fired, the quality of
Brandon's careers had tumbled slowly downhill. Always
seemingly as a result of random factors, he lost job
after job, eventually having to settle for the
position of a lowly janitor. It wasn't glamorous, but
at least it put bread on the table and rent on the
landlord's desk. Brandon was understandably sour about
the whole sorry business.
Brandon ran a hand through his dirty blond hair,
glancing about the dim mall as he did so. Only one
more objective to complete before he could go home and
get some sleep. One more trashcan to empty and one
more trash bag to toss into the dumpster and he'd be
done.
Brandon heaved the black bag out of the can and
looked inside. Occasionally he'd find some minor
treasure of value that he could sell for a couple
extra bucks. It didn't happen often, but when it did
Brandon could usually get some slight entertainment
out of it.
It looked like tonight was going to be one of those
nights.
Tonight, mixed among the candy wrappers, empty soft
drink cans, and other assorted garbage, Brandon caught
a flash of some precious metal. Gold, or bronze, or
perhaps some other metal winked back at him. Wincing
slightly in revulsion, Brandon reached in the bag and
fished it out.
It was some kind of statuette, apparently.
Intricately carved and decorated with various
gemstones, it was something one would more likely
expect to find in an Aztec ruin or a Greek temple than
in some random trashcan in some random mall. It
depicted a woman, a surreally curvaceous and beautiful
woman, dressed (and scantily at that) in what appeared
to be a Roman toga.
Brandon looked over his find, whistling in awe. The
chances of discovering such a relic had to be
extremely low. This was definitely worth some moola.
Then, as Brandon looked into the statue's sapphire
eyes, he began to feel a little strange. An extremely
pleasurable tingling sensation quickly spread across
his entire body, causing him to lower the statue. His
senses heightened by this odd impression, Brandon was
fully conscious of the changes that shifted across his
person.
Instantly, Brandon began to shrink, both in height
and in mass. Dropping from six-foot-three to a much
shorter five-foot-six, Brandon's rugged form began to
smooth itself, sturdy muscles painlessly melting into
softer, more feminine skin.
It's reasonable to assume that at that point, Brandon
began to panic. He was turning into a girl! Though his
mind told him he should run, get help, do _something_,
his rapidly changing body felt heavy and immobile.
Therefore he could only watch the alterations
unstoppably proceed.
The hairs on his legs pulled back in simultaneously
with an audible *schloop*, leaving behind soft, satiny
skin. His thighs swelled out, rounder and healthier,
while his hips widened in proportion to them. In
contrast, his waist and stomach shrank until there was
a stark comparison between hips and waist.
Even as his body changed, his clothes did as well.
The dumpy one-piece janitor's outfit Brandon had been
wearing quickly split. Part of it became tight
pantyhose that hugged his shapely legs tightly. Part
of it became a dress, which quickly changed into a
skirt as it traveled up his legs. Brandon could only
watch as its length continued to shrink, finally
stopping where required by law.
Brandon's shoulders dwindled, losing the strong
erectness they'd had as a man. Still, they seemed a
bit wide for a woman of his general height and weight,
so Brandon began to get a bad feeling about what was
coming next.
The sensations abruptly confirmed his premonition.
The tingling started to center on Brandon's tiny male
nipples. Then, as if they were balloons being pumped
full of air, they began to swell, larger, rounder,
past the bounds of good taste without stopping. The
slopes of softness continued to expand, pushing
together and towards Brandon's stunned face until
finally they stopped.
A bra instantly formed. Whether Brandon knew it or
not, the 48GG bra he was wearing was actually a cup
size too small for him, pushing his two enormous
melons together enticingly. Thumb-sized nipples pushed
out, through the T-shirt that had formed while Brandon
had been examining his new appendages, despite the
too-tight bra's attempts to push them down.
Twisting around, Brandon caught the best glimpse he
could of his own ass, which was rapidly expanding
within the confines of the skirt and hose. Each cheek
was rounding outwards, becoming the counterbalance to
his overly lush chest.
The final thing to change was Brandon's head. His
rough, masculine face smoothed, becoming almost
absurdly feminine. His eyes grew larger and larger,
becoming sky blue and seductively innocent as they did
so. His eyelashes lengthened and darkened, and sultry,
slutty makeup quickly masked his entire face. His lips
puffed out, becoming extremely kissable, and as soon
as they finished transforming they were instantly
covered in deep, shiny red lipstick. Brandon's short,
dark blond hair lightened and became wavy as it grew
and cascaded about him in deep, golden curves, until
they dangled at his incredibly jutting, curving ass.
Finally, the sensations faded away and Brandon's
control over his body was restored. He caught his
reflection in a store window and walked unsteadily
toward it.
He was, to put it bluntly, a pouty, brainless little
slut. At least, that's what he looked like.
Brandon almost slumped to the floor in disbelief. Why
had this happened to him? He had never wanted to be a
girl. Especially not one that screamed "FUCK ME,
PLEASE" like this one did. His life was over.
Wasn't it?
Suddenly, Brandon began to feel a little less
distraught about the whole situation. Sure, he was a
girl. But he was an attractive girl. With this body at
his disposal, he wouldn't need to empty trashcans
anymore. Brandon smiled and stood up. He was sure that
there was a man out there somewhere that wouldn't mind
helping out a girl like her in a financially difficult
situation.
"Brandi" adjusted her T-shirt, making sure to get
maximum cleavage exposure. Tonight, she would go home
and get some sleep. Tomorrow, though, it would be a
whole new ball game, no pun intended. She may have
been changed into a cocksucking little bimbo, but she
was going to _like_ being a cocksucking little bimbo.
It would be so simple... not having to worry about
anything except the latest fashions, what color
nail-polish looked best on her, and making sure she
had a nice thick cock in her every night.
Brandi smiled, no, beamed, as she walked out of the
mall, her ass swishing and her massive boobs bobbling
temptingly. And so it was that she didn't notice when
the statuette she'd dropped seemed to grin evilly
before shimmering and disappearing.
END
Madison
- 27.03.2020
- 14
- 0
