When Lucy woke up the next morning, she immediately stumbled, half awake, to the bathroom. To pee first and, more importantly, to look at her face. As she'd been warned, her lips were still very swollen from the injection. They dominated her face, plump, pushed forward, each side almost as big as one of her fingers and irregular in size. For instance, she had a big lump on the left of her lower lip, followed by a crease, with a random smaller, harder, dark colored spot, next to it... it looked like some fisherman had hit her mouth with a heavy trout.

 

In another life, she would have been devastated to go to school looking like this. However, she was the campus hottie now, so getting lip fillers was pretty much expected of her. And besides, with how pumped her lips were right now, just after the injections, she looked kind of hot. Maybe she did want to flaunt it before it settled down...

 

She ran her tongue along her upper lip. Clearly, she was in porn-star territory now, her modified mouth silently begging to be filled with a hard cock.

The rest of her face looked normal: the botox hadn't had time to take effect yet. She made some facial expressions in the mirror without any issues, thinking that, at most, her skin felt a bit "tight".

 

She went back to her room. Since she wondered how she compared with porn stars, she opened her favorite website and looked at some videos. She was bigger than most of the actresses, except the most extreme ones. Her exploration led her to a particularly hot flick where two very enhanced blonde bimbos were competing for sucking a dick with their plastic-filled lips. She enjoyed the scene in the company of her trusted Hitachi wand that carried her to orgasm, loving the fact that her own mouth looked similar to theirs.

 

When she was done, she showered and applied her makeup. She avoided the lips at first, following the clinic's advice. But they were really standing out too much, less because of the size and more because of the irregular coloring. She thought getting them in a uniform color would be too hard so she settled on applying high-shine lip gloss, reasoning that the swirling reflection of light off the glossy surface would actually work with the patchy coloring underneath. It worked: shifting glints and shadows masked the unevenness. She stepped back to look at herself and smiled. Yes, she was hot, in a very slutty way.

 

She dressed up in jean shorts, high heels and padded crop top, did her "outfit of the day" video (commenters didn't seem to care that the outfits were always the same), swallowed a pill and left for school, wearing large sunglasses that made her look like a movie star. In the street and on campus, the way people looked at her was different. They were more distant, more respectful, because this small lip modification made her hotter, and more importantly her attitude showed she knew how hot she was becoming. She had moved another step up above the common people, toward artificiality, toward one of these ultra-fake Instagram beauties, with her long manicured fingernails, her dyed blonde hair, her large (padded) chest, her tattoos and now, those enhanced lips, plump on her face. In the back of her mind, she briefly wondered what she was doing in that school, among those drab, uninteresting people.

 

Still, she floated from class to class, male students buzzing around her like flies.

 

In the evening, she got some compliments at the strip club. The night was just as hectic as last week, but she handled it more smoothly. She stayed relaxed during her shift, maybe a bit too relaxed. Men were definitely attracted to her, though they kept their distance out of respect for her role, because she was a hostess, not a stripper. Yet, upon noticing her very daring lip enhancement and how she welcomed the attention from the guests, it seemed evident to everybody that she was fast heading down that path.

 

For the first time, Lucy was convinced she could be hotter than most of them, if she were caked with the same amount of makeup. She felt that her place should be on the stage, not on the floor. The compliments flooding in on Instagram cemented the idea.

 

By Saturday, the color of her lips had evened out, but the swelling didn't really disappear. Lucy was vaguely aware she should maybe be worried about it but... she liked the full, fake look. It was like she was finally blossoming, like getting her long awaited revenge, surpassing all the hot girls that had always made her disappear into the background. She couldn't wait to get the implants.

 

That same night, Sarah was also dancing there and couldn't help but notice, with a sick pleasure, how confident and relaxed Lucy was with the patrons. Her tenant lingered a bit too long with the clients, sitting next to them, brushing hands, definitely capturing their attention at least as much as any performers. Sarah wasn't the only stripper to notice, and some resentment rose against Lucy. The poor girl didn't catch it, her brain fog heavier and heavier because of the drugs.

 

Speaking of drugs: she was running out of product and was supposed to meet Jürgen the very next day, on Sunday. This was also the day when Sarah's work on her face started to kick in.

 

After washing her hands sticky from her usual morning masturbation session, Lucy went to have breakfast. A cup of latte, that she distractedly moved toward her mouth while she was browsing hot models on Instagram... and spilled half her sip on her chest. She recoiled in surprise, got some tissue paper to clean herself, blaming the incident on distraction. She focused and managed to drink it the second time, but it took some effort on her part. It felt like her lips were moving at a sluggish pace, and in a weird way... not exactly as she wanted.

 

She confirmed it in the mirror. Some muscles were now working halfway: when she tried to frown or to raise her eyebrows as much as possible, there was no tightness, no pain, no resistance: it just stopped midway.

But, the area around her mouth reacted differently now. She found out she could still do most expressions, but she needed to focus on different parts, as if someone had changed the internal cabling between her brain and her muscles. Getting closer to the mirror, she made some faces, trying to get the hang of it, even if she knew it was just the start of the facial paralysis she'd signed up for. She didn't notice her eyelids, which were just starting to droop. And the lips were still as swollen as before, but she was used to it now. 

 

When Jürgen arrived that afternoon, he was welcomed by a very different Lucy from the one he had met the first time. She didn't waste any time. She almost shoved him, giggling, in her bedroom with a naughty glint in her eyes. Her makeup was different, heavier, with more pronounced red on her cheeks, darker mascara and bolder eye-shadow. She was wearing her smallest crop-top and, for once, no bra, no padding. Since it was Jürgen, she didn't care so much about her lack of breasts: the man had already seen her naked after all. For whatever reason, she wanted to be extra slutty for him, to vaguely prove a point. Also, she liked the idea of having a witness to her progress, to make him notice the difference before and after the breast implants. She wasn't wearing any panties under her skirt either.

In the bedroom, she immediately crouched down and kissed his cock through his pants before looking at him from below with a provocative smile.

The change in attitude was gigantic: she didn't speak beforehand, didn't try to negotiate, didn't set the mood. She knew what Jürgen wanted, the hard cock she could feel through his clothes only confirmed it, and she was willing to give it to him. So she opened his zipper, letting his gigantic cock free and took him in her mouth.

He tried to protest, to ask her to slow down, but she didn't listen, pushing her head further and further, welcoming his musky member into her throat as her fingers danced on her naked pussy under the skirt. Once again, she used the trick Leena had taught her, teasing him, licking him, driving him crazy, all while pleasuring herself, touching her wet sex. The moans coming from her throat, reverberating so intensely along Jürgen's cock, were genuine. She was really getting off on it, sucking this hunky man she liked, expressing her sexuality freely, playing him like a puppet, a feeling of control, of domination, that she wasn't really permitted to indulge with Kessler or the strip club clients. He was gripping her hair, trying to feel a little more in charge, but she was the one leading this dance. To his credit, he didn't cum so quickly this time, so she went into overdrive, pumping his cock up and down with her throat.... until his breathing became erratic, his hands pulled harder on her roots; the perfect moment to back up and play with the tiny bundle of nerves below his cock head. He came.

Even though he'd jerked off before coming to see Lucy (just in case), he still ejaculated loads of cum, white ropes landing in her hair, on her eyelids, on her nose, even on her ear and on her clothes, and the girl was smiling, on her knees, frigging herself harder than ever before, getting closer and closer to an orgasm that stayed out of reach. Jürgen stayed there, standing awkwardly for a few minutes as Lucy continued to pleasure herself, lost in her own blissful world, thinking back on the last photo shot on how the big cock of Jürgen looked thrusting in and out of Leena's pussy. She imagined the same glistening member fucking her hard, and, after a while, a stronger contraction in her pelvis signaled something had been reached. Not an orgasm exactly, but close enough to satisfy her.

 

"Do... do you need help with that?", he asked sheepishly.

 

As tall and broad shouldered as he was, he looked small, like a minor character in front of her raw manifestation of female sensuality, magnified by all the little changes she had done to her body.

Lucy considered the offer. She really, really lusted after Jürgen but... as confident as she was in her deepthroating abilities, putting something *down there* was a different matter. She couldn't make up her mind so she decided to answer with a giggle for now. Maybe next time.

 

Still, it actually happened the following day, when her teacher asked her to pay him a little visit to secure a good grade on the Corporate Finance paper.

 

So she went to Kessler's house again.

 

When she entered his living room, her heart skipped a beat as she noticed that the masked man was back, silently standing in a corner.

 

"Ignore him for now," her teacher said, and it was hard to obey. She still tried to memorize as many details as possible that could help her identify him at school later: his height, his clothes, his hair... Good thing she was seeing him again because she realized her memory of him hadn't been very accurate. Kessler asked her to turn away from him and pay attention to the porn he'd put on the screen instead. Lucy was standing in her heels, in the middle of the room, watching a fake-titted blonde getting ready to be gangbanged on the large TV.

 

"Don't be shy. Do what you do best."

 

She moved a manicured hand between her legs, under her mini skirt but on top of her panties and started rubbing herself. She didn't understand why she couldn't sit on the couch to touch herself, however the question soon became irrelevant as she got engrossed in the pornographic action that was happening on screen.

 

"That's it, slut..." he said, moving behind her, touching her body, kissing her neck. She kept masturbating standing up and couldn't help but moan as he was grabbing her more roughly, squeezing her ass, her chest... there, instead of tits, his hands found padding, so he unclasped her bra in a single motion. A nudge, and the socks rolled down onto the floor.

 

"How humiliating..." thought Lucy, impatient to get "real" breasts soon.

 

Her teacher moved to the side, kissing her, tasting like cigar and alcohol, but curiously the hands behind her never stopped their relentless assault, rubbing her pussy, teasing her hard nipples. Because her mind was slowed down by the relaxing pill, it took her some time to notice the hands belonged to the masked man, who was also now kneading her flesh. All the while, she never stopped masturbating, her legs weaker and weaker, teetering on the towering heels but feeling weirdly safe as she abandoned herself sandwiched between the two men. The blonde on screen screamed loudly.

 

"Come," her teacher said, as they both pushed her toward the dinner table. She bent over it, facing the crotch of the masked man as her teacher was behind her, pulling her skirt up and removing her panties, revealing her pale ass.

 

"Ask him what you want," he said.

 

She felt stupid because she didn't get what he meant, then she got it and said, her breath cut short by the wood pressing against her chest:

"Oooh mister, can I... like... suck your cock?"

 

The man opened his pants and revealed a long, thin, dark penis. A penis she had never seen before. She was puzzled but already it was coming toward her and she had to open her mouth, as her teacher was making her delirious by fingering her pussy from behind.

 

"IT'S A DIFFERENT GUY!", she suddenly realized. It wasn't the same cock. A small pang of shame followed: apparently she was the kind of slut who could tell men apart by their dicks now.

 

"Show me what you've learned. Show me what you can do with such a long cock," Kessler whispered from behind.

 

At that, she almost laughed, because long as he was, he couldn't compare to Jürgen, so she had zero difficulty offering him her throat as he fucked her face. She tried to seal her enhanced lips around it but it didn't make any difference and they were particularly numb and hard today. The dick pushed effortlessly through, lodging itself deep into her at the edge of her pharynx, right where she'd trained to suppress her gag reflex.

 

Her teacher was trying to push a finger into her pussy and she didn't fight it, welcoming the feeling. She didn't get exactly what was happening there, she only knew it felt curiously good, different, maybe even better than when she was touching herself. He was stimulating all the right spots at the same time in a steady rhythm that she liked, getting her wetter and wetter, as the other dick continued the back and forth in her throat. Bent in front of her teacher, she was certain *it* would happen today, and she was ready for him, ready for her teacher's cock, a submissive acceptance that was turning into desire. He was dominating her completely, body and soul, and that was hot. It would make it easier and even hotter if she wanted him, if she really wanted him to finally fuck her hard so she tried to focus on that, on her desire to be taken, to be mounted like a bitch, to submit to his cock...

 

 

"Don't worry, I'll use a condom," he stated, and Lucy thought he almost broke the spell by saying that, threatening to shatter the sexual fantasy she was absorbed in. Sure, it was a lot better than risking pregnancy. More reasonable. But she didn't want reasonable right now. She wanted to be ravished.

 

Following a cue from Kessler Lucy couldn't see, the masked man in front of her stopped moving, simply resting his cock in her mouth. She didn't know why so she just played with his member using her tongue. Behind her, she could feel Kessler rub the bulbous head of his cock on her pussy lips and finally push inside, slowly... Going in.... then back up, slowly... she was so tight, it had been so long, but the drug, and the fact she felt totally helpless between those two men helped her relax a bit. She took a deep breath as he pushed it inside again... Then, he removed it entirely. She mentally protested, as she wanted his cock in there, she'd wanted it for so long! But it was her own fault she was so tight. She felt useless.

 

"Tell me what you want," Kessler asked, rubbing her wet slit.

 

The man in front removed his dick from her mouth long enough for her to beg, in a raspy voice: "Fuck me daddy, fuck me!"

 

"Again!"

 

"Fuck me daddy fuck your whore!"

 

He indulged, thrusting it inside as he grabbed her hips. She moaned, surprised by how deep it went. This time it was a lot easier to move his member in and out. Soon, Lucy was finally getting properly fucked by two hard cocks from both ends, each thrust pushing her deep down onto the other cock. It lasted for several long minutes, and, this time, she couldn't use any of her fancy oral techniques to make the guy fucking her mouth cum sooner because she wasn't the one setting the pace anymore. She was being spitroasted, transformed into a simple masturbatory object, used passively like a sex toy by these two guys getting themselves off. Sure, she could have kicked, she could have used her arms to push off the table, she could have fought back but why? She accepted her teacher's dick and if he wanted her to suck some stranger's cock, well, she was happy to comply, to be used, back and forth, to abandon herself to these men, to this pleasure. She could imagine exactly how her body looked from the point of view of an imaginary camera floating around, like a wanton porn star in those MMF scenes she often watched. Lucy moaned, like a porn star, like when she was watching porn. Each thrust in her throat was painful but also a deliciously raw, erotic submission at the same time, the same kind of pleasure as when she was kneeling deepthroating and touching herself, magnified by the fact it happened on its own, and because it was Kessler fucking her. She just had to bend, open her mouth and let these two men take care of everything. She had found her new happy place. Didn't she?

Suddenly, her teacher slid completely out of her, slipped off the condom, and grabbed her by the hair to pull her off the table toward the floor. For a second she was confused but she had watched enough porn to know where it was going so she positioned herself on her knees, mouth wide open, tongue out, as the two men were furiously masturbating near her face. She also had seen this very scene thousands of times. Still, living it firsthand, seeing those powerful hands gripping the cocks, watching the muscular forearms going back and forth, was different. If one of these powerful fists that pistoned their hard members were to touch her face by mistake... she would see stars.

Her teacher was the first to cum, his semen spurting on her smiling face. Then, the masked man added his own strands of white goo, covering her completely.

 

"V-very good, Lucy... It deserves the maximum grade," her teacher announced.

 

She opened her eyes, her left lashes fighting a fresh sticky semen smudge, and saw him half-limping toward the couch to get his laptop. She was happy to get the grade, sure... but for a fleeting moment, this grade stuff sounded like a charade that was hiding the real story, a tale as old as time: he was a man, he'd wanted to fuck her, she was a woman, she'd wanted him to fuck her, and, today, they'd finally gotten what they both wanted.

She moved a hand down there, on her pussy, and started rubbing, looking through the strands of cum at the porn still playing on the big screen. She was curiously proud, as if after a job well done, and still horny as hell. She imagined the next time with Jürgen, she pictured her fucking him to get even more free products... and realizing now that the free products were also just a pretext, a way to hide how much of a slut she really was. Fantasies to pretend she had no choice, that she was an innocent girl, only using what nature gave her to get what she wanted under circumstances that she had no control over. She wanted to fuck Jürgen.

 

"Tell your classmate here what you are," ordered her teacher.

 

Her classmate! The word registered as her whole body flushed red. So he really was another classmate. Still, very professionally, she giggled and stated, her hand busy on her pussy: "I'm, like... a slut?"

 

"Look at him. Tell him why you fuck your teacher to get good grades."

 

Still frigging herself, she turned toward the man who was lazily stroking his glistening deflated member and added shamelessly:

"Like, because, I'm like, a stupid slut."

 

He was getting harder by the second. She giggled.

 

"That's right Lucy. Men like their sluts stupid. The dumber, the better."

 

He addressed the masked man:

"Do you know Lucy's body count?"

 

He shook his head.

 

"No?" her teacher continued. "Tell him Lucy. Tell him how many different guys fucked your twenty-year-old pussy."

 

She was rubbing slower now, and said, gazing intently at the masked man and weighing each word: "More than, like, one hundred."

 

That was too much for the young man who started masturbating frantically, his cock harder than ever.

Seeing the effect she had on the guy, Lucy couldn't help but moan as her own hand accelerated on her snatch.

 

"Go on, take care of him," ordered her teacher. For a moment Lucy wondered if he wanted her to fuck him. She wasn't sure she could, but, maybe... she opened her legs wider, looking at her masked classmate from below with a naughty half-smile, her face still covered with cum, trying to get her cunt ready for him.

 

"Suck him, you dumb slut," her teacher clarified, to her relief. She didn't have to fuck him after all.

 

She opened her mouth even wider, inviting him to enter her fake, luscious lips, not even registering how sucking a stranger had now become something trivial, something she was relieved to do.

 

He slid his dick into her mouth and she obediently went to work, fingering her own snatch with genuine passion. Something in Lucy snapped into place: she was now thoroughly, deliberately, enjoying herself.

 

***

(interlude)

 

William D. was your average chump. He had a good boring job, a stay-at-home wife who spared him her bitchiness, and an adult daughter currently in business school.

 

Sarah's friend had tried to get to him the last few days but William somehow managed to avoid everything:

- He didn't click on the phishing link (because he never really read his personal email);

- He completely ignored a booby-trapped link sent via Facebook by his geriatric aunt (because he'd avoided her since he was a kid)

- He resisted the curiosity of plugging a USB key labeled "IMPORTANT" he'd found in front of his house (because bending down felt like too much exercise).

 

However, he was delighted when he received a brand-new ergonomic mouse for free, from a sweepstakes he never entered! He unpacked it, excited, as his wife or daughter had long since stopped giving him any presents. As soon as the mouse was plugged in, a hidden circuit board came alive, sending a message back to Sarah's friend. The Trojan had been successfully planted.

 

***

 

After the sex session at Kessler's house, Lucy now had two boys to identify at school. A complicated task with a mind increasingly clouded by the drugs.

Also, the male students were getting dangerously bold again, maybe because those two boys had talked, maybe because everyone realized a hand resting on her ass met no objection. In any case, the male students became very handsy.

In the back row of the amphitheater, she started to let them stroke her inner thighs, as she floated drowsily. When they noticed she didn't pull away, only offering a slow, glassy blink, the boundaries dissolved completely and Lucy became their toy. She would just sit there, in a warm, compliant daze, letting strange fingers press into her panties, explore her wetness while professors droned on at the podium below about balance sheets and ledger equations she no longer understood, choosing instead to savor the sweet, secret strokes between her thighs.

 

But school wasn't the only place where Lucy enjoyed being played with.

 

Wednesday night, the patrons at the club could hardly recognize the fresh-faced, nervous hostess from the week before. Gone was the shy innocence that had made her so charming: it had been replaced by a wicked, sultry gaze. Sarah's Daxxify injection was almost in full force, the ptosis weighed down Lucy's upper lids, forcing them into a permanent, half-lidded droop, giving her seductive bedroom eyes she couldn't switch off. Farther down, the anguli oris injections pushed the corners of her lips up, leaving her enhanced mouth resting in a fixed, contented little smile she hadn't chosen. She looked like a happy, drugged whore.

 

That vacant, smiling compliance carried straight from the amphitheater into the club. Having spent the last few days letting classmates' hands wander under her skirt without protest, she seemed to have completely forgotten how to pull away. And the customers sensed her new lack of boundaries immediately. Between her whorish expression and unnaturally bloated lips, she looked like a girl engineered purely for men's pleasure, desperate to be touched, which encouraged them even further. The respectful distance they usually kept with the hostesses eroded fast, especially with the drunkest clients. Palms lingered on her lower back, hands rested heavily on her bare thighs, and the boldest would slide fingers under her dress to tease her ass. Lucy simply accepted the touches, offering no resistance at all, even letting herself enjoy it and often reciprocating. No one intervened since she didn't react. Men weren't so scary to her anymore. She saw them as bumbling idiots. She knew what they wanted, and she knew she had the power to give it to them. It was hard to take them seriously when she knew she could reduce any of them to a helpless, shivering wreck within two minutes of using her mouth on their cock.

However, she was handing out for free what the girls sold by the dance, and that couldn't last long.

 

"Lucy, can I talk to you for a second?" asked a stripper, as Lucy was sitting beside a client, enjoying the finger dancing on her legs as she rubbed his cock under the table.

 

"Sure."

 

She followed the glittery, half-naked girl to the back. She hadn't expected her to scream:

"What do you think you're doing?!"

 

"Sorry?"

 

"What do you think you're doing?!", repeated the girl in exactly the same angry tone.

 

"I... I'm just making them comfortable...", Lucy answered shyly, her fixed little smile still on.

 

"It's MY regular. You understand?"

 

Lucy nodded. She understood the girl was jealous of her lingering with her client. Maybe jealous she was doing a better job than her. But it was more than that.

 

"I watched you all night, Lucy. You're not supposed to be feeling up the customers, you fucking slut. I told management."

 

"You... what?"

 

"You're done here, Lucy. Touch him again and you're dead," she said on her way out.

 

The call from management came soon after. She climbed the stairs, a heavy knot in her stomach, and entered the manager's office to face him, bracing herself.

 

"Lucy, what's going on?"

 

Her hand went to play nervously with her hair. She realized she was on the verge of losing her job.

 

"Like, I don't knooww..."

 

"I'm sorry, you can't continue like that. What's going on? Are you drugged?"

 

She looked at him and tried to offer a sweet smile to dissolve the tension, but her paralyzed muscles wouldn't let her. Her swollen lips could only curl up in a lopsided, vulgar sneer, making her look even more whorish.

 

A desperate impulse flashed through her foggy mind: "Maybe I could suck his cock?"

 

She played with her hair a bit more seductively, letting her mouth hang open, looking at his crotch.

 

"Lucy?", he asked.

 

She giggled, remembering he was waiting for her to answer something.

 

"Like, I'm sooo sorrrry..." she started to say.

 

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Lucy," he answered coldly. "Hand over your gear."

 

She moved forward, still thinking she could turn things around by getting on her knees. But she didn't dare. Instead, she left her stuff on the desk and was escorted to the exit.

 

She had lost her job.