Chapter #2Frustrated pacing through the apartment. by: Mr. George   Vanessa né Shane decided to explore her apartment first. Keeping her first (and hopefully last) mistakes private. Surely, there was something less sexy in the apartment. Double checking the door was locked, and the chain was on, she ripped the red dress angrily off, over her head. It caught in her hair, pulling painfully, until it ripped loose. The seams surrendering to her harsh treatment. Scowling down at the pool of red, Vanessa stamped on it, as if it were a deadly snake.
Her body moved with a fluid grace that felt like she was eager for attention. But any attempts at moving more like a man, came off as awkward stomping.
The bedroom was a nightmare, the floor covered in discarded clothes.... Underwear, skirts, and tops tossed aside. Vanessa was an untidy girl. She knew before pulling it open the top drawer was full of underwear. But the sight of it made her want to recoil, the panties, the thongs, and all the horrific variety of underwear made her take a step backwards.
Unbidden, unfamiliar memories surfaced of trying on each of those items. With her generous ass, it felt like all of them were thongs, as they vanished between those hungry ass cheeks.
Opening the other drawers, Vanessa picked out the most anonymous, the least sexy items she could. An almost loose fitting grey top, and some white shorts. The long chestnut hair was already a bother, constantly keeping her aware of it. A reminder of her new sex (as if she needed it).
Angry, she picked up the phone. Calling Rose, she needed to know how long she was to be punished like this. Straddling a chair, she settled down to put on her most sincere apology into action.
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"Hi Vanessa." Rose's chipper voice grated immediately, Vanessa's teeth grinding straight away. "Hi Rose." she managed to sound friendly, even bubbly if a little strained.
"Enjoying your little love-pad..." Rose's barb sharp as ever, using your own half-joking name for you home as a jibe.
"Of course, a bachelor pad isn't quite the same when the occupant is a woman."
Vanessa silently fumed.
"A slut, isn't as charming as a rogue, or a gigolo, is it?" Her tone already answering her mocking question.
"A nympho... A hussy... a tart or a strumpet... Aren't as charming either, are they?"
Vanessa temper snapped, and she raged, abuse and vitriol flowing until pausing for breath, she realised Rose had already hung up. But, it felt good to unload, empowering if useless.
That good feeling didn't last long, as Vanessa felt a warmth spreading through her hips. Trying to rise, her legs didn't respond. She was powerless, as she felt her hips widen... as she felt the extra heft adding to her rump, swelling rounder, fuller and horrifyingly just as firm.
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Shrieking she erupted from the seat once the changes were complete. Vanessa truly blessed with an eye-watering ass. Her stumbling steps backwards once more reminding her of the mobility of her new pelvis, waist, and everything in between.
Tears flowing freely down her cheeks, Vanessa glowered at the abandoned phone sitting in the tatters of her red dress. She needed to try again, to apologise, to beg, to do anything, say anything to end this nightmare.
Silently, to herself 'or at least find out if... it's going to end'.
Bending to pick up the phone, she felt that ass move with every step, every movement keeping her hyper aware of her new over-stuffed ass. She noticed the other little changes now, far less significant, but still horrifying. Her nails now pale pink, and longer than before, drummed on the phone screen.
She call Rose once more...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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