Carrie couldn’t stop giggling. Not just today, but in general. She giggled for all sorts of reasons, like Travis touching her titties, teachers asking tricky questions, or Vilette magic’ing all her problems away. But today she giggled for a much simpler reason: Vicky was tickling the soles of her feet. 

“Carrie, hold still!”

“I, like, can’t! You’re tickling my toesies,” the new head cheerleader whined. 

Vicky looked up from her kneeling position, frustration flashing in her dark eyes. “I’m not tickling them. I’m doing your nails! And if you don’t stop squirming, you’ll be going to prom with pink streaks all over your feet.”

“Nu-uh,” Carrie said, sticking her tongue out. She knew that Vilette’s magic could clean up whatever mess she made. “Besides, squirming is so fun.” She made a point of wiggling in her cushy seat, taking special care to rub her thighs together. They jiggled so delightfully now that Vilette had enhanced Carrie’s body. She looked up lovingly at the little fairy who only she could see. 

Vilette had traded in her usual sequined dress for a plush purple bathrobe, her equally violet hair trussed up in a set of cartoonish curlers. She floated lazily in the air, filing her nails and seeming bored at the general proceedings. Carrie was pretty sure Vilette could change her appearance however she wanted, and didn’t actually need to get ready at all, but knew better than to ask. Vilette had been handling more and more of the tough thinky stuff lately. Carrie had no clue what she would do without her fairy godmother. She certainly wouldn’t have all this. 

She wouldn’t be getting dolled up in Gwennie’s mansion, surrounded by her very own adoring cheer squad, about to go to prom with the studliest stud she’d ever nailed. Carrie felt silly for ever questioning Vilette’s intentions. Life had gotten so much easier since she started using magic for everything. Even if her grades had tanked, she could just wish the scores away. The letter after ‘F’ was apparently ‘A++’ with the help of magic. That or ‘K’ or whatever letter represented the largest bra size, which Carrie now required. She didn’t pay attention to that either. She just wished for new clothes, like the bubblegum pink dress currently struggling to contain her voluptuous curves. The look was perfect, her chestnut hair cascading effortlessly down her shoulders, the sparkly dress that revealed more of her figure than it hid. The only thing missing was. . . 

“Daddy!” Carrie squealed as the door to Gwennie’s room opened. 

But it wasn’t Daddy, as Carrie had taken to openly calling Travis. Instead, the full figured hips of Mrs. Gwennie’s Mom sashed into the room, clad only in a pink and white striped apron and carrying a tray of various baked snacks. “Are you girls hungry?” 

Carrie initially had reservations about using her powers to enslave Mrs. Gwennie’s Mom, but Vilette made her realize she was just being silly. After all, the woman had such a nice house, and made such tasty treats. 

“Mooom,” Gwennie groaned. “You know we can’t eat those; they’ll ruin our makeup and get crumbs everywhere.”

“Yummy!” Carrie cut in. “I’ll take some. You have some too.”

The blonde opened her perfectly lipsticked mouth to object, but simply said, “Of course, Carrie.” 

“That’s my Carrie,” Mrs. Gwennie’s mom cooed as she deposited the tray. She shot Gwennie a stern glare. “Be sure to take good care of my little Carrie tonight.” 

“Mooommm!” She huffed. “You don’t have to remind me. It’s literally all I do.”

“Good,” her mother said as she turned to leave. “I’ll send your handsome dates up when they get here.”

Carrie basked in the sight of Mrs. Gwennie’s mom’s behind as she turned to leave. She had Gwennie’s same athletic frame, but swollen a bit by child birth and years of domestic life, ultimately resulting in a full pear shaped figure. She may have lacked the immaculate perfection of Carrie’s new body, but that pear looked absolutely scrumptious to Carrie. Maybe she’d give it a lick or a bite later. 

Carrie never used to like girls, but all that had changed when she felt Gwennie’s tongue on her little cunny. Vilette had encouraged her to lean into those feelings. Of course, Gwennie was happy to give her lessons. Now cheer practice included regular drills on 69’ing. Coach Callahan had objected at first, but a little dose of Carrie’s chest had brought her in line. Despite Carrie’s newfound taste for pussy, nothing could compare to . . . 

“Daddy!” 

This time Carrie guessed correctly, as Travis filed into the room, followed by the rest of the football team. The black tuxedo only exaggerated the hard, angular lines of Travis’s muscular physique. 

Carrie hopped up, heedlessly spilling nail polish everywhere in the process. 

“Carrie!” Vicky fumed.

“Don’t talk to Carrie like that!” Gwen slapped the brunette in the back of the head. 

Carrie shimmied across the room and leapt into Travis’s arms, wrapping her legs around him. The motion pushed the scandalously short hem of her dress up all the way to her stomach, totally exposing her equally total lack of underwear. 

“There’s my girl.” Travis’s hands found their usual place, cupping her ass cheeks and supporting her weight. Travis, of course, adored Carrie’s new figure, easily able to hold her up despite the added load in her chest and ass. 

Carrie loved the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her. She didn’t have to think or worry or do any other hard stuff. She could relish the sensation of his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass and pulling her against him. She leaned into the touch, rocking her hips forward against his already rising erection.

“You’re not wearing underwear.”

“You like that, Daddy?”

“I do,” he growled. “But you’ll ruin my suit.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Carrie picked up her pace, grinding away.

And worry Travis didn’t. He had more important things to do, namely Carrie. He spun on his heels, slamming her fat ass into the wall of Gwennie’s room. “You’re such a dirty slut.”

“Oh, I am, Daddy. I’m whatever you want.”

Travis dug in his heels and thrusted against his date, shaking the whole room with the force of his blows. Each thrust elicited another creak of protest from the wood-framed walls. 

Carrie loved it. She loved everything her Daddy did to her. She loved when he talked down to her. She loved when a portrait of Gwennie and her mom fell from the motion. She loved it when he bit her neck hard, and kept kissing the spot till she knew a hickie would bloom there. 

She just squeezed tighter and held on for the ride. The assembled cheer leaders of Hampton High loved it too, even Gwennie. They’d all been conditioned to prioritize Carrie’s happiness over everything, and were far beyond the point of caring about public fornication. In fact, half of them joined in the fun with their own dates, not Gwennie though. She could have gotten a new date of course, but that would have taken time away from serving Carrie and that was unacceptable. Instead, she just watched and gently rubbed herself over her dress. 

And she had plenty to watch. Travis only set his date down for a moment, just long enough to undo his zipper. Then he dove back into the action with renewed fervor. Finding the perfect angle had become second nature to him, as he slipped into Carrie with a grunt and a squelch. 

Carrie clawed at his back, gripping and pulling him as close as she could. She loved the dizzy rush of his cock. It swept over her, drowning all her thoughts in an ocean of pleasure. She lost herself completely in the rhythm of his hips. 

Her body swung and swayed in perfect time with him, the bouncing balloons on her chest bobbing up and down with every blow. Her magically endowed cheer skills made her far more flexible and pliant than she’d ever been before. They set her whole body gyrating and twisting in time with Daddy. She could roll her stomach and her hips and pull him even further into her than she would have imagined. So deep . . . just like that really deep place in the ocean. She was pretty sure it was named after a girl, Maria? Malina? Ah, what did it matter? Mariana couldn’t be as deep as Travis was inside her at that moment. She probably couldn’t milk him as good as Carrie either, she figured. She always had to be the best after all. 

“Fuck, Carrie.” Travis’s husky growl pulled her back to the present. 

“Oh, yes. Fuck me, Daddy.” 

The frantic rhythm of Travis’s thrusts slowed to short choppy bursts. His body clenched and spasmed as he found his release. And, of course, knowing she’d pleased her Daddy sent Carrie over her own edge. She collapsed against him, a wet, sweating, shuddering mess. 

“Carrie,” Gwennie said tentatively. “I hate to interrupt. That was, like, sooo hot, but the limo is here, and now we need to clean you up . . . again. So we’re gonna be late if we don’t hurry.” 

Carrie just smiled. She hadn’t been late since that fateful cheer practice. Just like her Daddy liked, she always came early and often, and she knew today would be no different. “Nooo way. It’ll be fine.” 

“You guys go ahead. I’m still trying to get nail polish out of the carpet,” Vicky grumbled. 

“Don’t be, like, so dramatic,” Carrie said as Travis released her. She cleared her throat, more for effect than anything. “I wish the nail polish was cleaned up. I wish my nails were totes perf. I wish Daddy’s tux was fixed. I wish the crumbs were gone, and everyone’s outfits and make up was fire.” 

“You’re lucky I know that you don’t mean literal fire,” Vilette grumbled. She snapped her fingers. “Your wish is my command.” 

The now omnipresent purple light filled the room. When the glow faded, all had been set to right. The carpet looked as pristine and tastefully off-white as it ever had. Even Carrie's hopelessly wrinkled dress had been restored to silky smoothness. 

Another wave of billowing pink fog swept across Carrie’s mind. That happened whenever she made a wish, and at first that had terrified her. But Vilette had told her not to worry about it, and she trusted her fairy godmother completely, so now she just enjoyed the warm tingles the feeling brought with it. Still, the giggly numbness had washed away any recollection of what she had been doing. The cheerleader stood slack jawed for a moment trying to remember, before she just gave up and asked.“Hey, V, what was I, like, doing again?”

Vilette floated down and gave her a condescending little pat on the head. “You were on your way to prom, remember, dear? this is what you wanted all along. I have a feeling it’s going to be a big night for us both.”

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, V. Now let’s go, bitches!” Carrie squealed. 

“Yes, Carrie!” The room answered at once. 

The whole party filed down the stairs and out of the stately house, Mrs. Gwennie’s mom, giving Carrie a long kiss on the forehead on the way out. 

The neon-pink stretch hummer waited patiently as its patrons piled inside. 

Carrie lounged across the back, middle seat with Travis on one side and Gwennie on the other. She surveyed her conquests as the limo pulled away. The whole cheer team and football team simply adored her. Gwen had gone from being a total bitch to her total bitch, and best of all she had Travis. Before she met V, her life was so lonely and sad. But now, at long last, she had everything she ever wanted.

The limo came complete with a well appointed bar, and the various couples quickly helped themselves to it. When the rental agency had pointed out trivial obstacles like the legal drinking age, Carrie had simply wished the number was lower. Twenty one was way too hard to count up to anyway. That was more than she could do on her fingers and toes. How was anyone supposed to do that? 

Just as Travis handed her a martini glass full of something foamy, Vilette, once more bedecked in for-once-entirely appropriate-purple sequins, floated down and interposed her petite person between Carrie’s full lips and the still full glass. “Sweetie, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Sure. Like what about? Boys? Girls? Clothes?” Carrie answered, no longer bothering to whisper. Carrie’s retinue had long-since grown accustomed to her talking to herself, and mostly just left her to it.  

“Well, that’s really for you to tell me. I came here to give you everything you ever wanted, and not to sing my own praises, but I think I’ve done a rather remarkable job.”

“I didn’t know you sang. Do a song!”

“No, I’m not literally singing, dear,” Vilette said with a sigh. “I’m asking a question. What is it you still want?” 

Carrie tried to think, even scrunching up her face and everything, but it was no good. “I dunno.” 

“They always get so tiresome to work with near the end,” Vilette grumbled quietly. “But you must know.”

“Hmm. I wanna try my fizzy drink!”

“No, not like a drink. Something big, something important. There must be something you still desire.”

“Hmmm. Nope.” Then a terrifying possibility occurred to Carrie. She was so shocked she nearly dropped her glass, but luckily her enhanced cheer reflexes allowed her to save it. “You’re not gonna leave me, are you? If I can’t come up with more stuff to want?” 

Vilette booped her on the nose, sending more purple sparkles through the cabin. “No, silly, quite the opposite really. But there must be something missing. Something very special occurs when a fairy satisfies all your desires and it hasn’t happened yet. Therefore, you’re holding out on me.”

“Oh-em-gee, V. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” 

“Just spit it out, dear.” 

“I had no clue how rude I was being. You’ve watched me fuck Daddy and Gwennie so many times. If you wanted in, you should have said something. I’d never hold out on you. Daddy likes it when I play with other girls.”

Travis gave a nod of approval, even if he didn’t know who Carrie was talking to. 

“Not sex, you simpleton!” Vilette hissed, before quickly regaining her composure. “Something you want deep inside yourself.”

“Hmmm,” Carrie said, screwing up her face again. “If Daddy goes deep enough, maybe he can find it!” 

Vilette answered with an exasperated groan. 

“Carrie, I don’t wanna interrupt, but where are we going?” Gwennie stammered.“ This isn’t the way to school.”

“Duh, silly, we have a guest to pick up!”

“Oh, your trivia friend.”

“My Bestie!”

Gwennie flinched as though she’d been physically struck. “Right.” The former cheer captain clearly coveted the ‘Bestie’ title, but that went completely over Carrie’s empty head.

Sure enough, the stretch hummer turned off the major road and into a sleepy neighborhood. The lumbering automobile looked wildly out of place in the simple subdivision, like a flamingo in a flock of geese. It rolled to a stop before a utilitarian, beige house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Rashmi stood outside, wearing a simple dress of straight, silvery satin. One parent flanked her to either side. Her father was a man of modest stature with a full mustache, and a head bent forward from too much time on the computer. Her mother was slender and elegant, just like Rashmi herself. The family exchanged nervous glances as the bubblegum behemoth blundered towards their home. When the car stopped and sounded its horn several times, Rashmi hesitated, her mouth folding into a hard line.

She seemed to be having serious second thoughts. The Hummer honked again. Finally, after a reassuring hug from her family, Rashmi stepped forward, like a scared deer leaving the safety of the forest. She walked down the driveway and opened the door.

“Rash!” Carrie chirped.

“Yeah, hey,” Rashmi responded with notably less enthusiasm.

“Come sit with me,” she said, gesturing to Gwennie’s seat.

“But, but, I like sitting next to you,” Gwennie said.

Carrie shot an irritated glance at her companion, pink eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Did I stutter, bitch?”

Gwennie’s head fell in defeat, blonde locks hiding her face. “No, Carrie. I’ll move.”

“It’s fine.” Rashmi squeezed into an open space between two of the other girls, about six feet from Carrie and promptly began fidgeting with her braid.

“I like your dress,” Carrie offered. “It’s so pink.” 

Rashmi looked down at herself. “It’s supposed to be slate grey.”

Carrie blinked. The dress looked pink to her. Was this like that one dress on the internet that people used to argue about? But that one wasn’t pink. Then Carrie realized that all of Rashmi looked pink to her. In fact she was glowing. It had been a while since her special vision had highlighted anything. It was supposed to point out things that would make her happy.  “Oh, sorry. It’s probs the light. So, what’s new with you, girl? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Rashmi snorted. “That’s because you haven’t.”

“Well catch me up. What did I miss?”

“What did you miss? What did you miss? Well for starters, you missed the State Quiz Bowl Championship. We got smoked by Crestview, mostly on European history, your beat.”

A pang of guilt shot through Carrie. She knew she’d been forgetting something that day, but she'd been out with the girls and then Daddy had wanted to try the backdoor for the first time, and she couldn’t say no to that. But still, she felt bad. She was their expert on European stuff, like Dutch chocolates, and French kissing, and Brazilian waxes.“Oh, I’m sorry, girl. I’ll, like, totes come to the next one.”

“There isn’t a next one, but thanks anyway. You know, I don’t even mind the losing so much. I mainly joined quiz bowl to make friends. I'd be happy if I could just come home and watch a bad movie and eat ice cream with my best friend, Caroline.”

“Oh.”

“Except you didn’t show up to that either. I was honestly kind of surprised you invited me to this. I sort of figured you’d gotten too cool for me or whatever this is,” she said, gesturing broadly around the car.

“You know, she’s being awfully ungrateful,” Vilette chimed in. “Just say the word and I’ll teach her some manners, or you could slip that dress off and do it yourself.”

“Shut up,” Carrie snapped at the little fairy.

“Wow, now you’re telling me to shut up. I missed you too, Caroline.”

Carrie’s cheeks, turned to bright scarlet, and not from the usual raging arousal. “No, Rash, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“So, we’re still talking to ourselves then. Excellent. You know, I almost didn’t come today, but I decided to because I missed my best friend. Although, now I’m not sure if she’s even in there, under all that makeup and . . . plastic surgery,” she finished with a vague wave across Carrie’s enhanced figure.

Carrie felt a rumbling deep in her mind, as if some creature was stirring in the fuzzy depths of the ocean of pink. Her face twitched as a stream of thoughts fought valiantly to make their way to the surface. But before she could speak, Gwennie interrupted.

“Hey! She’s the most beautiful, special girl in the world. You should be honored that she even let a six like you hang out with us.”

“Down, girl,” Carrie said, as she kept straining against the pink. Thinky stuff gave her a headache, but she still had to try. For Rashmi, she would try. Her friend's anguish had sparked something deep within her. She couldn’t figure out what, but she knew something was wrong. But what? Everything seemed perfect. How could anything be wrong when she had V’s magic? “No, you’re right Rash. Something’s, like, funny. Not good funny either. Bad funny.”

“Really?” Rashmi asked, stunned.

Carrie was so lost in the effort of trying to think that she completely missed the sneer of disgust on Vilette’s face. “So you're the problem. I was wondering what was taking so long,” she muttered.

“What was that, V?”

Vilette smoothed her expression into its usual mask of unreadable superiority. “I said, she’s the problem, dear. You don’t have everything you always wanted because you’re losing your little friend, but I can help you get her back. I’m always here to help, you know.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Of course V would help her. She felt so grateful for her fairy godmother. 

“Thanks for what?” Rashmi asked. 

“Oh, um yeah,” Carrie mumbled, trying to pretend like she hadn’t been talking to an invisible fairy. “Thank you for coming, bestie! I’m sorry I’ve been totes, MIA, but we can hang tonight.”

Rashmi paused again, looking her former friend up and down before she finally spoke. “Ok, yeah. I’d like that.” 

Gwennie scowled. Vilette smirked. Travis wasn’t paying attention.