Touchdown Trouble

Sunday, February 5th, 2017

I mindlessly whistled to myself as I prepared tonight’s freshly prepared snacks for the big game. I had never been so nervous in my life and tried to keep my mind off what was to come. I waved my arms around and orchestrated each pot and pan as the food prepared itself around me as if by magic.

That was because it was by magic. Two hundred years ago, magical individuals hid in the shadows and kept their craft a secret. Influential world leaders employed them in an attempt to influence and conquer the region. When rumors of their existence grew, mages couldn’t hide their existence anymore.

Once they announced their existence to the world and reproduced with the general population, the number of mages grew. Today, in 2017, about 70% of the world’s population were magical users.

Unfortunately, as the number of magical beings inflated, so did the world’s problems. The Ancient Order of Archmages sought to end the numerous conflicts by limiting how we used our magic. From that moment forward, mages were able to use trivial spells that affected no one in particular, but they could only conjure a spell that involved another human being with that person’s explicit permission. It rendered most spells useless except for acts of convenience, such as cooking and cleaning.

“Mmm, that smells nice,” I smiled as my beautiful girlfriend stepped into the kitchen and lovingly wrapped her arms around my neck. She pressed her unpainted lips against my own and sensually kissed me.

*Crashhh* My eyes widened as I broke the kiss and witnessed a bowl of potato chips lying in pieces on my kitchen floor. “Now, look what you’ve done!” I exclaimed. Kylie simply giggled. She knew I couldn’t hold my concentration when she kissed me like that.

“So, do you still want to go through with our bet tonight?” She perched herself up on the kitchen side.

I grinned. “Of course. I can’t wait to have you serving my every whim for a week.”

I am an Atlanta Falcons fan, and my typically disappointing team had secured the number 2 seed after pulling off an 11-5 record. Two unusually relaxing playoff games later, we made our first Super Bowl in 18 years.

My girlfriend Kylie, on the other hand, was born in Boston and followed our upcoming opponents: the dynastic New England Patriots, led by future Hall of Famer Tom Brady.

Despite our underdog status, our fantastic playoff results gave me an overinflated confidence, which led to Kylie and my drunken bet last weekend.

We had decided that for every touchdown our team scored, we could make a magical change to our partner. When the game was over, the winner would return to normal, but the loser would be stuck in their new form for a week and forced to serve the winner however they desired.

“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to back out,” she laughed as she slid off the counter and left the room. I rolled my eyes and returned to preparing our spread for the evening.

❖

“I abide by the rules set forth and agreed by the two parties. This agreement is binding and non-negotiable. I understand the risks and make this agreement of my own free will.”

We both spoke in unison before a cold shiver ran down my spine. Looking into Kylie’s eyes, I knew she felt the same thing. There was no turning back now; our bet was magically set.

I settled onto the couch. I was wearing my favorite red Matt Ryan jersey with blue denim jeans. My brunette hair was teased in a wavy, spiked style.

As much as I hated to admit it, my blond girlfriend looked great in her Brady Patriots jersey. It hid a bit too much of her body, but she tied the bottom of the shirt up to reveal a glimpse of her navel. Despite lacking in the tits department, she had a great, slim body with curves in the right places. She had a cute face with a dainty button nose and piercing green eyes, although her lips were incredibly thin. She was a lawyer and barely wore any makeup around the house.

We watched through the National Anthem and other pregame activities before the players took to the field. I softly bit my lower lip. I had been confident all week, but now the time had arrived; how were we going to beat Tom Brady? My Falcons had never beaten him in his career. I was stupid to take that bet, I thought to myself.

The game started with the Patriots possessing the ball. Despite our loving 5-year relationship, Kylie and I chose to sit at opposite ends of the sofa, the delicious spread of wings, mozzarella sticks, nachos, chips, and pizza slices laid out in front of us. I had already sunk two bottles of beer to calm my nerves.

I was the first to celebrate when my team held the Patriots to a three-and-out on their first drive. I leaped off my seat when our star running back, Devonta Freeman, made a 38-yard run on the first play. My heart was racing. How could I survive four hours of this?

However, the drive suddenly stalled, and we punted the ball back to the opposition. The first quarter bounced back and forth, and neither of us was able to push the ball far enough to score any points, ending the quarter at 0-0.

❖

I found myself biting my fingernails in anticipation as the second quarter began. The Patriots were knocking on the door at our 33-yard line, and Kylie was cheering them on. I never bit my nails before, but this was no ordinary game. I’d never live this down if we lost, and the bet heightened the stakes even further.

Brady handed the ball off to their top running back, LeGarrette Blount, who took it for 3 yards before he was tackled. My eyes widened with joy as I leaped into the air. I saw the ball pop out of Blount’s hands, and our cornerback dived on it, giving us the ball back.

With the ball in our hands, our MP quarterback, Matt Ryan, methodically moved it down the field until we took it all the way to the Pat’s 5-yard line. Ryan gave the ball to our star running back, with Freeman taking off towards the corner and launching himself into the endzone. I jumped to my feet and raised a fist in the air. We scored the first touchdown of the game.

Kylie had her head in her hands. Her entire family was football-mad, and I knew how much she hated to watch her team lose. Still, what was to come would make her situation much worse.

My girlfriend sighed. “Come on, bring it on.” I knew how much it pained her, but she was being a good sport.

“Hmm,” I contemplated, finishing off my fourth beer. The adrenaline was still pumping through me. “That’s a cute jersey, but you should wear something more appropriate.”

As I clicked my fingers, Kylie raised an eyebrow and felt the jersey and leggings shift around her. The grin on my face spread as I witnessed her top shrink and morph into a tiny string bikini. I was an honorable man, so I kept the same theme as her top and a couple of Patriot logos displayed on each bikini cup. Her leggings had similarly morphed into tiny g-string bikini bottoms, and 5” stiletto heels appeared on her feet.

I absently licked my lips, studying her new outfit. Kylie folded her arms. She wasn’t happy with the change, but she knew I could have made it so much worse. I opened another beer and continued watching the game.

❖

After we kicked off, the Patriots tried to get something started. However, our defense was playing as well as I’d ever seen, and we held our opponents to another three-and-out. Could we keep this up all game?

With the ball back, we sliced through the Patriot’s defense. We were inside the red zone in just two plays, including an incredible sideline catch from our superstar receiver, Julio Jones.

Two plays later, our quarterback threw a pinpoint accurate pass to Austin Hooper into the endzone for our second touchdown of the night. Suddenly, we were beating Tom Brady 14-0 in the Super Bowl. We scored with barely enough time for me to finish my beer, and so I gulped the rest down as I contemplated my next move.

I heard Kylie sigh; she wasn’t expecting this outcome. Usually, I hated seeing my beautiful girlfriend angry or upset. Still, something about the way she looked at me sparked a fire inside me. She had been so confident all week but was now at my mercy.

Deciding not to hold back, I took things a step further. “That outfit looks great, but you don’t fill it out quite as well as you should,” I grinned. I saw Kylie’s eyes widen in horrified realization when I clicked my fingers. Her breasts immediately began to inflate and stretch against her New England-styled blue bikini. Her modest cleavage grew larger until her breasts threatened to break the fabric. She now had EE cup breasts, full and fake. Just how I liked them.

Kylie’s natural breasts were a B cup, and I had always told her I loved her small tits. I never told her about my secret love of plastic surgery and that I fantasized about her inflating her tits. I finally saw my dream become a reality, albeit for only a week.

“Seriously?” She squeaked out. “These are gross and ridiculous.”

“True,” I lied. “But that’s payback for all the times I had to watch Brady lift the Lombardi trophy.” Kylie rolled her eyes and folded her arms, frustrated that she couldn’t fold them in a comfortable position with her new tits taking up so much of her chest.

I resumed watching the game, but the sight of my busty blond girlfriend made it harder to focus. We still had a long way to go.

❖

With eight minutes left of the half, Tom Brady started his team’s next drive. I sat on the edge of my seat with my girlfriend, her new assets slumped on the opposite side of the sofa. I thought this next drive would be crucial. If we could keep New England to a two-score game at halftime, we stood a good chance going into the second half.

Unfortunately, our defense was called for three holding penalties, extending New England’s drive each time. A couple of well-timed throws brought the ball down to the Falcons’ 23-yard line. I had already resigned myself to a Patriots score when Brady threw the ball directly into our cornerback Robert Alford’s hands, and the defender had nothing but green grass in front of him. He ran the ball back 82 yards for a pick-six touchdown. A bowl of nachos flew across the room as I rose to my feet in celebration and accidentally swiped the bowl away with my mind. We had scored again, making it 21-0 with two minutes until halftime.

I almost felt sorry for my blond Boston beauty. She was a well-respected lawyer in the City, and she’d almost certainly have to take a week off work when I was done with her. “Any suggestions?” I asked her in a mocking tone.

She groaned, glancing down at her abundant cleavage. “Just get it over with.” She knew I would have ignored her suggestions anyway.

I nodded and clicked my fingers. My smile grew wider as I stared at her face, specifically her lips. Her usually plain, thin lips grew, then grew some more, and then more. They inflated past the point of any respectable size. They continued until they became a pair of meaty lips only an established pornstar would be proud of.

“Whaf haph you done!?” She cried out and placed her hand over her mouth. The site of her cute face, accompanied by those obscene lips and her mountainous cleavage, was both comical and sexy as hell. “You perf!” She cried out. She wasn’t happy. The lips hindered her ability to speak coherently, and at 21-0 down, she was going to have to put up with them for an entire week.

“Calm down,” I smiled. “You agreed to the bet, and it’s only for a week,” I said joyously. I had been enjoying myself and would milk this moment for all it’s worth. She begrudgingly sat beside me, and we watched the rest of the first half silently.

❖

Our defense had played so well this half, despite their penalties on the last drive, that I had hoped they could hold Brady and the Pats to a scoreless first half.

However, Brady put together another drive over the final two minutes. He stormed back into field goal range and attempted a couple of throws toward the endzone. We held firm, and New England was forced to kick a successful field goal before the half, giving us a halftime lead of 21-3. Kylie glanced over at me. I knew exactly what she was thinking. I laughed and shook my head. “Nu-uh. The agreement was touchdowns only.” She sighed and slumped back against the sofa.

After the players returned to the locker room, I outstretched my arms and placed my sixth empty beer bottle on the table. “You fancy getting a head start and cleaning up this mess?” I joked.

Kylie clearly wasn’t in the mood for my sense of humor. She scowled at me and stormed off towards the bathroom. Perhaps I pushed it a little too far. Still, I chuckled to myself as I witnessed her adjusting to her new sense of gravity. The increased weight on her chest must have been hell to deal with.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and I could barely sit still. This was the moment I had been waiting my whole life for. Having my girlfriend unwillingly act out my fantasies by transforming into a buxom pornstar and serving my every whim was just the cherry on top.

I ignored Lady Gaga's halftime performance. Instead, I picked up my phone and joined my Falcons friends’ group chat discussion. None of us could believe what we were seeing. I told my friends about the bet with my girlfriend. They asked if they could see a photo of how she looked. I grinned and told them I’d invite them round for drinks later in the week, and they could see for themselves.

I heard the toilet flush and put my phone away. I couldn’t hide the grin on my face as I saw my busty, scantily clad blond girlfriend slouch back on the couch. “Are you sure you want to watch the rest of this?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Itph not ofer yetph,” she humiliatingly sputtered with her new oversized lips. I chuckled and turned my attention back to the television. The players were heading back onto the field. I softly bit my lip. Just 30 minutes of football remained.

❖

We started the half with the ball, but the drive immediately fizzled out. Fortunately, our defense held firm and forced New England to punt the ball back to us.

Starting on our 15-yard line, Matt Ryan threw three perfect passes to place the ball near the redzone. Three plays later, our QB ended the drive with a 6-yard touchdown pass to Tevin Coleman. I screamed in delight. I couldn’t believe it. We were 28-3 up in the Super Bowl against the heavily favored New England Patriots with a quarter and a half left to play. This was finally our year.

After half a dozen beers and a buxom beauty beside me, I didn’t even think about my next spell. I clicked my fingers and watched Kylie’s beautiful pornstar lips turn a bright, glossy shade of red. Her eyes were also heavily decorated with red and black, and the rouge blush highlighted her high cheekbones. I had never seen my intelligent girlfriend looking so trashy, and my cock instantly grew. Fortunately, the rest of the spell would take care of that.

Kylie gasped and put a finger to her lips. “Whaph did you do?” she cried out. Her lips began to tingle incessantly.

I grinned. “Just a little something to keep you motivated throughout the week.” I had transformed her lips into a needy orifice that needed to wrap around something, and I had just the thing. I unzipped my denim jeans and fished out my rock-hard 7” member. “This will help.”

My blond girlfriend shuddered. She knew exactly what I’d done. Rather than screaming at me as I had expected, the need was too much for her to bear, and she reluctantly dropped to her knees and wrapped her plush, bright red lips around my cock. I could get used to this life, I thought.

I softly bit my lip as Kylie obediently and hungrily sucked my cock. This was a rare occurrence. She wasn’t a prude by any means but believed that pleasure should be mutual during sex, so she often refused to suck my cock. I’d ensure she kept her mouth full all week when this game was over.

I enjoyed my girlfriend’s head bobbing on my cock as Tom Brady started his next drive. The Patriots quarterback managed to get out of trouble on numerous occasions, including a 17-yard pass on fourth down and an uncharacteristic 15-yard QB scramble on 3rd-and-8. We couldn’t put that final nail in the coffin, and the offense made their way down the field before scoring a 6-yard touchdown. The score was narrowed to 28-9.

My girlfriend still had my cock in her mouth when she immediately clicked her fingers. She hadn’t seen any of the action, but the commentary and my reaction to the score told her it was her turn for a small measure of payback, and she didn’t hold back.

The moment Kylie clicked her fingers, I no longer felt her mouth over my penis. In fact, I couldn’t feel my cock at all. Peering down at my crotch, my eyes widened as a tidy, hairless slit had replaced my proud member. The bitch had given me a pussy.

“What the hell?!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking slightly after the loss of my balls. My girlfriend grinned up at me. It was comedic watching her smile with her obscene painted lips, but the loss of my cock took away from the moment. She sat back on the sofa. Her lips still tingled, but her smug temporary revenge was enough to quell the need.

“You might want to be nice to me,” I told her. “I can do what I like with you for an entire week.” It was a threat, but Kylie took it in her stride and shrugged. I couldn’t wait for our next touchdown.

❖

With time running out, the Patriots attempted an onside kick. However, I celebrated when we recovered the ball. Their kicker also committed a penalty, giving us perfect field position to strike back.

Despite starting on the New England 41-yard line and hitting a 9-yard pass on first down, we somehow managed to mess up the drive. After a holding penalty and a sack, we were forced to give the ball back to Brady without scoring any points. The third quarter came to a close as we punted the ball back to the Patriots.

I nervously watched Tom Brady guide the ball down the field. In the first half, stopping him appeared effortless, but as the minutes ticked away, the game seemed to slow down, and they were soon knocking on the door at our 7-yard line.

Fortunately, our defense woke up, and two consecutive sacks from our stud defensive tackle forced New England to kick a field goal. They narrowed the deficit to a two-score game, but with less than 10 minutes to go, I still felt pretty confident. We needed one more mammoth drive to put the game to bed.

I glanced over at my transformed bikini-clad girlfriend and found her distracted with her lips wrapped around the straw of her homemade cocktail. I grinned to myself and wondered how long it would be before she magically materialized a big plastic vibrator to suck on.

I couldn’t stop staring at the clock as each second felt like an eternity to tick down. My nerves weren’t helped when Matt Ryan was sacked on the third play of the drive, losing the ball in the process and giving it back to the Patriots with eight minutes left to play.

I heard Kylie scream in delight once the decision went her way. For the first time in a long time, I actually contemplated whether I could lose this bet. Watching the torture before, I cheered as Brady was sacked, only to see him throw an 11-yard pass for a first down on the next play.

With a little under six minutes remaining, Brady threw a touchdown pass to Amendola to condemn me to my second transformation. A two-point conversion brought the game down to a one-score game.

Kylie’s confidence grew. I shook my head wildly, but she wasn’t going to give up her opportunity for revenge. I closed my eyes as she clicked her fingers. I didn’t want to witness what she had in mind after she chopped off my poor cock. Within moments, I knew exactly what she’d done.

I opened my eyes and stared down at my red Falcons jersey. My previously flat chest pushed forward as two mounds sat high and huge in position. I couldn’t see my body below them, and they were massive on my torso. The breasts I had given Kylie were huge, but I was sure mine were even bigger. That assumption was confirmed when my girlfriend opened her inviting mouth.

“If you like phig phoophies tho much, you can haph thome F cupf,” she mumbled. I was horrified. My team was on the verge of the greatest collapse in NFL history, and I now sat with huge fake bimbo tits and a pussy. I desperately needed the Falcons to stop the rut and see this game out.

❖

“Yes!!!” I screamed out and jumped out of my seat. The new weight of my massive bosom prompted me to stumble forward, and I almost crashed into the snack-filled table before me. Kylie giggled, but I didn’t care. Matt Ryan had thrown a short pass to Freeman, and our running back carried it all the way to midfield. With five minutes left on the clock, we just needed a score to seal it.

On the very next play, Ryan escaped pressure and threw the ball to the sidelines. Our star receiver, Jones, somehow managed to catch the ball and get both feet in bounds before tumbling to the ground at the New England 23-yard line.

My elation turned to despair when Ryan was sacked on the 35-yard line, moving my team to the edge of field goal range. A holding penalty on the next play moved us back ten yards, and we had somehow turned guaranteed points into a punt. New England had the ball with three and a half minutes left.

My girlfriend was on the edge of her seat. We had stopped talking to each other at this point. Too much was at stake. After two incompletions, I was ready to celebrate. But Tom Brady had become a machine and fired a first-down ball to his receiver.

On the Patriots’ 36-yard line, Brady threw a dangerous pass that was tipped by our cornerback. I rose to my feet as I anticipated a game-ending interception when Edelman, the Patriots’ receiver, somehow came away with the ball. The referees ruled it a catch, and the replay confirmed that he incredibly kept the ball off the ground as he caught it. I knew I was in trouble at that moment, and I began to panic.

It didn’t take long for the Patriots to move the ball to the Falcons’ one-yard line, and with a minute left of the game, they scored another touchdown. I held out hope for the failed two-point conversion, but Amendola ran in to tie the game. Somehow, we had gone from a 99.8% chance of victory to a tied game.

I stood up, my vast fake tits barely wobbling as I did. “Uhmm, perhaps we should renegotiate the bet,” I suggested. I swallowed hard when I saw my transformed girlfriend click her fingers.

Kylies inflated lips contort into a smile, and I find my own start to tingle. “You didn’t…” I complain. However, the transformation was much worse than that. As my lips began expanding, my entire body was covered in pins and needles, molding and reshaping before my girlfriend’s eyes. My waist shrunk, my ass expanded, my muscle mass depleted. My entire face reconfigured itself, with my blue eyes widening and my crooked nose shrinking to a tiny, cute button nose. My ears shrank, and my jawline softened. My cheekbones rose, and my proud brunette beard completely disappeared, as did the remainder of my body hair. I felt a tingle along my neck and noticed my hair begin to length before turning a shocking red.

My lips were the last to stop itching, and a plump pair of bimbo lips sat on my face, almost as large as the set I had given Kylie. I ran to the hallway mirror, holding my jeans up as my thinner waist failed to support them. I gasped in horror at what I saw. “How?” I asked. “This is like 5 transformations in one.”

Kylie giggled. “It’s not,” she said. “It’s a simple feminization spell. I used your mind to describe your fantasy woman and transformed you into it. You never told me your fantasy woman looked so… stupid?” I couldn’t take my eyes off my new form. My girlfriend turned her attention back to the game. “Ohh, look. It’s gone to overtime.” I was screwed.

❖

I begrudgingly returned to the sofa to watch overtime. Every inch of my body felt alien to me. I knew I would transform back if my team could just score a touchdown, but something told me the result had already been decided. My gut wrenched when New England won the toss and opted to receive the ball first.

One solitary touchdown was all that was needed to confirm my hell for the next seven days, and Brady didn’t waste time throwing the ball to midfield. I became more nervous with each play and felt my girlfriend’s excitement grow. Only two and a half minutes had expired before the Patriots were in field goal range. However, they weren’t looking for a field goal.

I rubbed my denim-clad, hairless legs anxiously. I looked ridiculous in my overgrown outfit. The jersey was incredibly tight in the chest but covered my super slim waist. My jeans rode along my hips, showing off the very top of my ass crack.

I cried out at each painful catch, my new feminine voice matching the feminine, bimbo body I possessed. I was defenseless, and it wasn’t long before the Patriots had a first down on our two-yard line. James White received the ball two plays later, ran through three defenders and dived for the endzone. After the sideline judge raised his arms in the air to signal a touchdown, I shuddered. My worst nightmare had become a reality. My team had taken me to the verge of utopia before sending me to hell.

“This is bullshit!” I stood up. My girlfriend had been busy celebrating her unlikely win, and I trudged off toward the kitchen. I wasn’t going to stay for this.

“Huh, where do you think you’re going?” Kylie noticed my escape attempt. “That’s a touchdown. We have one more transformation to go.”

“Seriously?” I turned to face her. She looked incredibly gorgeous in her tiny bikini and enhanced features. I couldn’t believe they would soon return to normal. “What more can you change?”

Kylie grinned. “Well, you haff a greatph body,” she studied my figure. “But you’re covering too much. Let’s see what you’ll wear for the next seven days.” I shook my new bright red-haired head as Kylie clicked her fingers.

I shuddered as my prized jersey reshaped itself. The color lightened until it became a plain, brilliant white shade. My top shrank, exposing more of my wasp-thin waist. My huge F-cup tits became more pronounced, the neckline shrinking until the top became blue and white, stomach exposing maid’s crop top. The sleeves ruffled and flared in a feminine style. My jeans had gone the same way, transforming into a pair of white g-string panties with a ruffled maids apron across the front. The outfit was ridiculous.

Adding to the humiliation, a maid cap fixed itself over my loose red locks, with the New England Patriots logo emblazoned across the front. 6” white stiletto heels conformed to my feet, forcing my heels up in a painful, uncomfortable position.

I shook my head. “No way,” I squeaked. “I’m not wearing this all week!”

Kylie smiled and approached me. “Ohh, your ouphit iphn’t done yet.”

I raised an eyebrow before crying out in pain. I felt a sharp prick against my navel before another in each of my newly enlarged nipples. Finally, I squealed out and felt a painful twitch in my new clit. I needed to bend down to look past my huge tits and witness the shiny silver piercing in my belly button. I knew that similar piercings were attached to my nipples and clit.

Before I could complain, leather cuffs materialized just above my elbows. They connected with a short chain, restricting my arm movements and forcing me to display my chest proudly. Similar cuffs wrapped around my ankles and connected with another short chain. A thick white leather collar wrapped around my neck. The collar was stiff, making it almost impossible to stare down without bending my body forward.

“What is all this cra-mpphh!!” I almost choked as a large, bright red ball appeared in my mouth. As I complained incoherently, the ball grew even wider, forcing my pornstar lips to part wider.

Kylie bit her lower lip and clicked her fingers, materializing a handheld mirror in her left hand. She lifted the mirror in my face, and my eyes widened in humiliated defeat. I was wearing a giant red ball gag. However, the humiliation compounded when I saw the words written on the front of the gag. In big white block font, Kylie had created a gag with the words ‘ATLANTA SUCKS’ scrawled across it. I couldn’t argue with her about that.

My heart sank further when Kylie’s lips and tits began to shrink and return to their original size. The Patriots had just lifted the Vince Lombardi trophy and sealed my fate. I bit against the gag, watching my girlfriend’s sexy bikini modify back into her original jersey.

“So, what to do with you first?” Kylie pondered.

“Mmpphhh!” I grumbled defiantly and began tottering off in my 5” heels.

“First, how about you clean up this mess for me like a good little maid?”

I shuddered when her command assaulted my ears. I tried to fight the compulsion, but I knew all too well how we worded the bet. I would have to do whatever she asked for the next seven days. If I refused, my body would do it for me. Eventually, I lost the fight, and my body turned around. I reluctantly got to work on cleaning up our mess. I glared at her as I picked up my beer bottles. I seriously hated football.

❖

Six Days Later

“Thanks for coming, Sarah,” my girlfriend greeted another one of her friends as the party kicked into gear. She was celebrating a promotion at work and invited her colleagues to her house for a little get-together.

As Kylie was celebrating a promotion, I had taken a week of emergency vacation leave. I’d spent the last week tending to Kylie’s every need, from foot massages to cooking her meals and pleasuring her with my tongue. Most of the menial tasks she gave me could have been quickly completed with magic, but she refused to allow me to access my mana.

“No problem. I couldn’t miss this,” the blond Sarah smirked, staring at me. “I love what you did with her.”

I groaned and bit against the jaw-breaking gag. I couldn’t wait for all this to end.

“Kylie,” my girlfriend’s new boss, Todd, seemed to take a particular interest in me. “You have great taste. She looks delicious.” His words were spoken with malice and made me feel incredibly filthy.

Kylie giggled. “It’s not my taste,” Kylie explained. “Apparently, this is Chris’ dream woman. It’s funny; he always told me I was his fantasy woman.” The small group laughed. I blushed, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath; I only needed to hold on for 24 hours.

I took my mind away from their conversation by clearing the empty bottles from the dining table. The short chain connected to my ankle cuffs severely restricted my movements, forcing me to take small, dainty steps.

With a tray full of empty glasses and bottles, I tottered back towards the kitchen. As I emptied my tray, I overheard Todd chatting with Kylie.

“She looks perfect,” Todd continued. “What would it take to get her in the bedroom for an hour?”

My eyes widened. “Mpphhh!” I called out, although no one heard or cared.

Kylie giggled. “Ohh, Todd. I couldn’t do that.” I sighed in relief. “However, Chris did force me to suck his cock when he knows how I feel about them. Perhaps this would make us even.” I gasped and attempted to rush towards the pair, but the short metal chain interfered, and I fell against the kitchen counter. I carefully tottered towards them, but I was too slow. “Give me an extra two weeks of paid vacation leave a year, and you have a deal.”

Todd laughed and stared at me as I approached them. He licked his lips predatorily. “Deal.” Those words cut through me.

The well-dressed man approached me and placed his hands on my abundant cleavage. “Chris,” Kylie addressed me. “Follow Todd to the bathroom and obey his commands for the next hour.” She instructed me. I tried to plead with her eyes, but Todd turned me around and led me towards the bedroom.

“Ohh, Todd,” Kylie called out. I sighed. Was this an elaborate prank? “Be careful. If you cum inside her, the transformation becomes permanent.”

“Murpphh!!” I yelled out helplessly through the painful wide gag. Todd chuckled and resumed leading me towards our bedroom, with my fate in his hands. I hate football.

The End.