Btirany was in the dark. Figuratively and literatively. The lights were off and she couldn’t find the light switch. Also, she was tied up.

“Where am I?” Said the bimbo’s tits, jiggling as she looked around wordlessly.

A sexy voice called out from the darkness, before turning on the light. “You’re my captive, and I’m holding you prisoner!”

Brittany looked at the voice vapidly. “But I didn’t say anything! Or do anything! I don’t even know who you are!”

“Shh, brittany. I know who you are, and it will all make sense soon.”

Brittany sttruggled against the bondage that she hadn’t previously noticed as the mysterious woman held a cloth up to her nose, the beautifully ornate handkerchief was red with gold leaf pattern. 

“Does this smell like chloroform to you, brittany?”

Brittany inhaled deeply. “Wait, I don’t know what chloroform smells like!”

The woman held out a bottle of chloroform and spritzed some on her wrist, for comparative scent testing.

“It smells like this.”

“Oh. Thank you!” Brittany, with a new understanding of the scent of chloroform, sniffed the rag once more.

“No, actually? It kinda smells like… grape febreeze?”

“Wait, fuck, that’s my perfume! Sniff this one instead.” The woman held up *another*, less ornate rag, with a jazz pattern, like those vaporwave cups from the 80s.

“Does this smell like chloroform to you?” The rag was held tightly against Brittany’s nose as she inhaled deeply. “Yeah, actually, that’s definitely chloro-...”

Brittany fell unconscious.

When brittany woke up, she was tied down again, but in a different, much brighter room, though she was still in the dark (figurateitlvey).

The supervillain who had recently drugged her was on the couch with that evil witch from before, watching porn and eating popcorn.

“This is one of those… mind control stories right? Do they fuck the genie in this one?”

“What? No. Where did the genie even come from.”

“Look, I’m juust sayingh, all the good hypno stories have genies. I’ve read it online.”

Brittany realized in horror that her tail was twitching. Somehow, she had become a catgirl! It must have been that chloroform! Maybe it wasn’t chloroform after all, but a plot to brainwash her into being an animal slut!

“Oh, you’re awake brittany.” The villainess stood up, washing the buttery popcorn off her hands before groping brittanyss large tittties.

“These are too big, for you to be a catgirl like I wanted, so we’re giving you a breast reduction.”

“What? WHY! I JUST WANTED BIGGER BOOBIES!” Brittany cried.

The villainess pointed to a sign on the wall, indicating that cat girls were unable to have larger than R cup tits. “IT’s the rule. Sorry babe.” 

Brittany’s tits got smaller until they were a massive R cup, but still really huge, however, to the vapid bimbo with cat ears taking up 30% of the space in her brain, this was an unfathomable insult.

“I challenge you to a duel!” Brittany shouted, pulling out a deck of trading cards from… somewhere.

The villainess blinked and looked at her, confused. “Where were you even keeping those? Wait, weren’t you tied up, like, a second ago? You know what? I’m not even going to question it, fine, I’ll duel you. The villainess pulled out her cards, and a hardlight hologram of a motorcycle manifested in front of her. “But we’re doing this my way. While riding a motorcycle.”

“How am I supposed to play a cardgame on a motorcycle? What the hell, it isn’t safe to text and drive, you think I can read your cards going 60 on the highway?”

“I just expected you to lose, but whatever.”

Brittany got on the villainess’s motorcycle with her, and they tried to play a card game, soon crashing into a wall. Brittany was victorious, but at what cost? Her giant titties at least were able to act as air bags, pillowing her fall, meaning everyone was okay. “What was that all about? That was ridiculous and embarrassing. You’re a terrible excuse for a duelist and a motorcycle pilot! Do motorcycles have pilots? Captains? Driv-” Suddenly, brittany was interrupted. “I”M NOT FINISHED YET YOU BIMBO” The villain roared as she emerged from the motorcycle accident. Brittney looked at her blankly. “Get out of my paragraph, you evil witch!” “NEVER, this paragraph, like you and your catgirl titties, belongs to me!” They grapppled to the death over posession of the paragraph, and when they finished, everyone was okay. Britty one and claimed ownership of the paragraph, making a land deed which stated that in her untimely demise, the paragraph would pass to her next of kin. “This paragraph is now a family heirloom. I don’t ever want to see you anywhere near it ever again. The paragraph went on to start a family of its own one day, children were born and raised without ever leaving that paragraph, and it was loved by all. Eventually it was intended to be put on display in a museum, but they ran out of space, as the paragraph continued to grow, long after its descendants had been killed off in the great grammar war. There were helpful tidbits, and useless facts strewn throughout the paragraph, but it had since become too long to be useful to anyone. Attempts at indexing the paragraph were unsuccessful, as the table of contents became too long for it to be referenced. Page numbers collapsed under the unsustainable growth of the paragraph. Thus, the paragraph became an urban legend, it was theorized it would never be fully decoded until a supercomputer in the future was built for that purpose, and who know what devastation would be wrought over humanity upon completion of the project. (editors note: paragraph shortened)

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A wide distance away, the villainess demurely replied. “Yes Miss. I understand miss.”

The search continued.