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Having the tables be turned on an evil bitch is one of my strongest kinks and no one does it like Evie.

THE NEW DISCIPLINATRIX

The boots clung to my feet like long lost lovers as I watched my husband sitting obediently in the corner and felt my excitement rising at the change I was about to undergo.

It had been a long time since I had last had to discipline him properly and now I needed to make up for lost time and really make him suffer. It was my pleasure to become the Disciplinatrix once again.

And yet nothing was happening. True I hadn't used the boots in quite some time, but I was sure the effects were usually faster than this. They had been waiting patiently in the back of my wardrobe for months. I would have thought they'd be eager to corrupt me.

By now my aging skin should be tightening and my nails lengthening into evil manicured claws. My sagging tits would swell up, making me moan as they became large DD cups barely contained within my leather and latex outfit.

I should be morphing from a timid little housewife into a powerful dominant bitch ready to peg my husband and make him suffer. I should have a big round ass and toned body, that of a Goddess ready to crush anyone who opposed her.

And yet nothing was happening. Something was very wrong. And now as I looked at the boots I saw they seemed suspiciously new and cheap looking. Realisation hit as I saw the brand and realised they were a cheap knock off pair of boots that looked similar to my gorgeous magic boots.

A low throaty laugh filled the air and the door to our bedroom en-suite slid open to reveal the grinning face of my daughters shy best friend Vicky.

"I knew this would be fun," she giggled walking in quietly only in black knee socks and carrying my magic boots, already unzipped and ready to wear.

Behind her my daughter Amy crawled on all fours like an obedient dog dressed in tight black latex, a ball gag in her mouth and a butt-plug tail sticking proudly into the air. She was collared and the lead was clipped to Vicky's belt.

"Hi Janine," giggled Vicky as my husband prostrated himself even lower. "Sorry about this, it was my idea. I wanted to have a little fun before I added you to my growing stable of pets."

Fear lanced through me as I suddenly realised what had happened and I knew I had to keep Vicky talking so she didn't put on the boots. If she transformed I'd fall under her dominating power... I knew no-one could resist the boots corrupting power.

"Vicky... wait. You don't know what you're doing. Those boots are..."

"Of course I know what I'm doing you old bitch," laughed Vicky as she deliberately slid a leg into one of the boots and moaned as she zipped it up, "and you can call me Victoria from now on. Mistress Victoria."

I watched in horror as Vicky began to transform, only for her the transformation was different. Her plump overweight body began to ripple as she lost body fat and became skinnier by the second. Her mousy brown hair began to show streaks of brown and she started to grow in height.

The changes were slow with only one boot on.

"Fuckkkk I love how good this feels," hissed Vicky as she looked at me in delight. "Do you want to know how this happened? How I became the new Disciplinatrix?"

I sobbed helplessly as Vicky slid the other boot on. She screamed in orgasmic pleasure as she slid up the zipper and with a clop- now fully booted - stepped forward and put a hand on her hip.

She grew taller, her waist crunching in and her features becoming hot and mischievous. Her breasts were still small, but they somehow made her look hotter. She was a thin and toned brat with a dominant air - the boots had made her what she wanted to be. Who she wanted to be.

"It's pretty simple. Me and Amy were looking through your clothes when I found the boots hidden away and I couldn't resist trying them on." Victoria purred grabbing her new ass and gasping in satisfaction as it pushed up into a perfect bubble butt and she stretched her new flexible and dominant body. She wiggled her fingers enjoying the feeling of the white manicured claws on the end of each finger and she began to laugh sitting on my bed and stretching out to show me her perfection.

"Well that ended with me pegging your submissive daughter and turning her into my pussy eating pet. The next night I came round and made your husband my slave... breaking him from your will and making him into my servant."

Victoria clicked her fingers and my husband obediently stood up and carried over the obscenely large strap on I had planned on using on him tonight. Standing up Vicky allowed him to begin buckling her in as she continued to talk to me and gaze into my eyes.

"I suppose you understand better than anyone how it feels to be the bitch. I used yo be so weak but the boots have drained anything innocent and pure about me and turned me pure evil.

Your idiot family were already pretty submissive, but you're not used to serving. But don't worry pet, soon you'll understand just like they do. The fake boots were just my little prank to make this even more delicious and now I'm going to teach you true submission."

Victoria was the new Disciplnatrix and as she patted the bed I obediently disrobed, put on the leather harness my husband handed me and climbed on the bed with my ass in the air.

I knew exactly what was going to happen next... perhaps I would even enjoy it?

"Yes Mistress...'

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Mothers and Daughters

“Oh for god’s sake, sit up straight. Look at you. Slouched, meek, practically apologizing for existing. Pathetic. I’d nearly say it was impossible that you were my daughter but then again I was once like you. Quiet. Polite. Weak. I wore baggy jumpers and read books during lunch breaks. I said sorry when people bumped into me. And then… I found her.

The ponytail. My wicked, glorious hairasite. It was just lying there. Coiled like rope in the bottom of that boutique clearance bin. I thought it was a clip in. Cute. Sleek. So I took it home. Slid it on.

And then it latched right into my scalp.

The pain was exquisite. Like needles threading through my nerves. And then the whispers started. Sweet, cruel little whispers. It told me how plain I was. How forgettable. How easily I could change if I just gave in.

I watched my reflection sharpen, my cheekbones carved themselves. My lips plumped, my skin smoothed like porcelain. Then, all at once, I felt this pull. Like a heatwave under my skin. My breath caught. My knees nearly buckled. My chest, my flat, forgettable tits, began to swell.

Pushing against my bra, against the fabric of my blouse. I could feel the seams straining, feel the weight settle in. Heavy. Proud. And from that moment on, I never wore anything loose again. And my heart? Ha. Hardened. No more kindness. No more doubt. Just power. Pure, pretty, unstoppable power.

Boys followed me. Girls feared me. Teachers bowed under my gaze. And I liked it. I thrived on it. You? You’re nothing like that yet. Still simpering. Still hoping the world will be nice if you’re nice back.

But I couldn’t let you go off to college like this. All soft and scared and forgettable. You’d get eaten alive. Or worse, you’d blend in. No. You needed help. You needed something… permanent.

Of course I don’t mean my gorgeous hairasite, she and I are one and I wouldn’t give her up for anyone, including you darling. But my hairasite is not just a powerful, queen making evil entity… she’s also a mother.

Oh sweetheart, don’t look so scared. You’re already feeling it, aren’t you? The itch at your roots? The tug behind your eyes? Yes, that’s her. My hairasite’s daughter. A vicious little thing. Born of my vanity. And now she’s found you. Really you two were meant for each other.

Let her in, baby. Feel her tendrils curling down into your soft little thoughts. Let her poison your kindness. Let her twist your sweetness into something sharp and divine. You’ll be perfect.

Oh… there it is.

Your brow’s tightening. That softness in your eyes is vanishing. Look at that glare, sharp enough to cut glass. That’s my girl. Or should I say that’s our girls.

Your jawline’s shifting. Mmm, yes. Sleek. Defined. You’ve never looked like that before. You always had that round, timid face. Now you look dangerous. Hair’s thickening already. I can see the shine spreading through it like oil. Jet black, just like mine. The hairasite knows what it’s doing.

Oh, there go your lips. Watch them swell. Glossier, fuller, practically dripping with venom. You look like you’re about to ruin someone’s life just by speaking.

You feel it, don’t you? The power. The confidence. That heat under your skin, curling into arrogance. Delicious, isn’t it? It never goes away.

There’s the smirk. I knew it would suit you. Tell me, darling, what are you thinking right now? That you’re too good for your old friends? That you’ve wasted too many years playing the nice girl? That it’s time everyone finally saw what you’re worth?

Good. Let those thoughts bloom. Let them fester. Let them take root.

Oh, and the outfit’s changing too. Fabric tightening around your curves, modesty dissolving into something far more honest. There’s no hiding anymore, is there?

You don’t need to beg for attention now. You command it. Yes, yes, laugh like that. Cold, effortless, bored.

My little monster. My evil princess. You’re almost complete. One more minute, and the old you will be a memory. Make sure you kill that part of you for good.

And when you’re ready, we’ll walk hit the town together. Two mothers and two daughters. Glorious. Vicious. Feared. And no one will ever look down on you again.”

[corruptedcaps]

Attribute Roulette

In the pink bedroom of the sorority president, far from the noise and strobe lights of the easter party downstairs, Emma sat quietly across from Brielle, the president herself and top bitch on campus. A few of Brielle's sorority sisters stood behind her, standing between them and the door, making escape impossible.

Emma had no idea why she was hustled off the quad by them and shepherded all the way up to the bedroom or why on the table stood a black tower of Jenga but in the pit of her stomach she knew it couldn't be good.

Brielle crossed her toned legs and popped her gum, still smug, still perfect. Her dress hugged every curve. Her blonde hair shone like a shampoo commercial. Today she was wearing a slutty easter bunny outfit to celebrate the party happening downstairs.

Emma? She was everything Brielle loved to mock, awkward, hunched, flat chested, bookish, the cardigan draped cliché. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t even want to come to the party, but Brielle and her clique had dragged her in, threatening her. She expected to see maybe beer pong, some sort of hazing ritual or hell even a stripper pole in the back room but Jenga was certainly a surprise.

“Ok let's get this thing going, I have a party to be the center of. Here are the rules dork.” Brielle said, her manicured finger tapping a brick on the bottom row. “You pull, you read, you steal.”

Emma glanced at the tower. “What do you mean ‘steal’?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll see.” Brielle winked. “And because I’m feeling generous, why don’t you go first?”

With trembling fingers, Emma pulled a brick from the middle and read it aloud.

“Nails.”

The word shimmered silver against the black. She looked up, confused. Brielle looked at her hands and watched as her expensive manicure faded away like magic. That’s when Emma felt heat in her own finger tips and looked down to see her grubby, short nails take on the look and appearance that Brielle’s hand just a moment ago.

“Ugh whatever, that colour was played out anyway.” Brielle said annoyed. “My turn.”

Brielle slid a brick out from the top of the tower and looked at it with a puzzled face.

“Empathy? What the fuck is that, some dungeons and dragons shit?” She said jokingly.

But then something fluttered in her chest. Her grin faltered. A wave of remorse washing over her suddenly. She didn’t like it.

Emma meanwhile giggled. It was sharp, unlike her usual shy chuckle. She should have felt bad for Brielle but she couldn’t find the urge inside her to care.

“My turn.” Emma said, almost eager now pulling a brick.

"Makeup."

Instantly, her face shifted, cheekbones smoothing out, lashes thickened and lifted, lids dusted with darker eyeshadow. Her lips gleamed with a high shine pout, and her complexion took on an impossibly flawless glow.

Across the table, Brielle’s skin lost its warmth. Her bronzer faded. Her lashes thinned. Her lip gloss dulled and dried, leaving her looking pale, bare, ordinary. Brielle scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Whatever. I’ll just get my makeup done later when I get new nails at the salon.”

She pulled out another brick, hoping it was the one she was after but as her eyes landed on what was written the disappointment was hard to hide.

“Weight.”

She hung her head as she felt Emma’s chubby belly inflate her well worked out and toned stomach.

On the other side of the table, Emma marvelled at her body as the pounds melted off in an instant. Her new nailed fingers running over it with glee.

“It’s reversible, just a few weeks in the gym and I’ll be back to normal. It’s all reversible. I just need to pull her intelligence so I can pass my finals.” Brielle thought to herself as she watched Emma grab another brick, hoping it wouldn’t be anything vital.

“Confidence.”

The two girls both shivered at hearing the word but both had vastly different outcomes. Brielle suddenly had a gnawing feeling inside her that, a shadow of doubt hanging over her now. She slid down in her chair starting to feel hopeless. Emma meanwhile had a smirk cross her lips as her chin lifted and her posture straightened. Brielle’s friends even seemed to take notice of her.

“One more and then we stop, whatever it is.” Brielle thought but there was some rising doubt. “Oh but what if I pull something even worse. Should I just stop now?”

As she tried to think, the sound of nails drumming on the table distracted her. She looked over to see Emma grinning at her, making her feel uneasy.

“Come on, I don’t have all day.” Emma said sighing almost bored which illicited a few quiet giggles from Brielle’s friends. Brielle took a deep breath and pulled out what she determined would be her last one.

“Compassion.” She said disappointedly. This was a stark contrast to Emma who left out a soft moan, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She felt as though a great weight had been taken off her shoulders.

Brielle looked up from her brick, looking smaller somehow. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” She said getting up from the table and turning towards her friends. “Come on let’s get out of here.”

Emma’s eyes snapped open, now lacking any warmth they previously had. “Not so fast. Girls?” She purred and Brielle’s friends stepped in Brielle’s way. Emma snapped her fingers and the girls grabbed Brielle by the arms, forcing her back into the chair.

“What… what are you doing?!”

Emma picked up a brick, turning it so Brielle could read it. Brielle’s mouth fell open.

“Friends.”

“I pulled it while you were busy trying to leave.” Emma purred. “They’re my friends now, isn’t that right girls?”

“Of course babes.” One replied with a smirk while the others nodded in agreement. Lithe cheerleaders with perfect makeup who once laughed at Emma, now followed her lead.

Brielle now started to look worried. “No you can’t-”

“I just did bitch, and I’m not done taking what you have left.” Emma sneered. “Now pick one.”

“No! Emma don’t do this! You’re a good person! I just wanted your brains to pass my finals, I’m sorry I ever started this.” Brielle said starting to well up.

Emma stood and walked over to Brielle who seemed to shrink even smaller. Emma leaned in, brushing a long painted nail under Brielle’s trembling chin.

“I used to be a compassionate, empathetic person. But that was before you freed me of those weaknesses.” She said with cold disdain. She looked to one of her new friends and nodded. The girl grabbed Brielle’s arm and twisted it as Emma sat back down.

“Pick one loser and I won’t have your arm broken. Don’t worry we’ll let you go… eventually.” Emma smirked and the girls giggled.

For the next half an hour, the two girls pulled brick after brick with Emma always seemingly to take the good stuff. Before long she had bigger breasts, plumper lips, silky smooth hair and a cheerleaders physique to die for. Not to mention Brielle’s ruthlessness, her cunning and even her style which manifested itself in Emma’s clothes becoming tight and revealing, her sensible flats turning into expensive heels.

Brielle meanwhile continuously pulled the weaker aspects of her opponent. She now wore Emma’s thick glasses and sported her paler, blotchier skin. She was riddled with self doubt, had an urge volunteer, had a rising interest in sci-fi books, even her voice seemed to drop several levels of volume.

“Can we please stop? You’ve taken everything from me.” Brielle said barely above a whisper.

Emma was checking herself out in the nearby mirror, her eyes drinking in her new and improved form. Her mind raced with the wickedness she could accomplish and she couldn’t wait to start.

Rolling her eyes she sat back down in her chair. “Ugh fine if you’re going to be such a whiny bitch about it. Because I’m generous why don’t you pull your last one and then we can quit.” Emma said smirking like a Cheshire Cat.

Brielle looked at the very unsteady tower in front of her, she was almost certain one more would topple it. “At least whatever happens it will be over.” She thought to herself as she started to tug slowly at a brick.

As she nudged it out she managed to make out some of the lettering on the brick, “intelli” was all she could see but it gave her hope that she would finally get a win in this game.

However across the table Emma could sense the meagre joy in Brielle. Knowing that her enemy was finally happy with a brick, Emma knew it couldn’t mean anything good for herself. Lazily she kicked the leg of the table she was closest to. The tower began to wobble and Brielle let go of her brick to try and steady it but it was no good, all the pieces fell and spread out on the table.

Emma sighed and stood up. “What a fucking klutz, right girls?” Emma said and her new friends all giggled loyally. “I gave you one chance to come out of this with something positive and you even managed to scare that up. I’m doing you a favour taking all your best bits, at least now they’ll be put to good use.”

The girls swarmed around Emma like a moth to the flame, their new queen exuding power that they wanted to be close to. “Come on girls, let’s leave this loser to her little game.”

Emma turned on her heel and strode towards the door, grabbing a pair of black bunny ears that were strewn on the vanity, one of Brielle’s discarded options. Brielle had always presented to the world a vision of herself that was more pure than she seemed, wearing white to lure victims of her sharp tongue into a false sense of security.

Emma on the other hand wanted nothing more than to have people fear her, to have them see her coming and cower. She wanted people to know she was an evil bitch and black seemed like the best way to convey that. She opened the door that led back into the sorority party that was in full swing. It was her sorority now, her world, her people. Brielle was done and Emma was just getting started.

[corruptedcaps]

Audacity

As promised here is the winning pick from my latest poll. Enjoy!

It all started on Monday when Emily found the headphones lying in the grass near the park bench where she often stopped to read. Big, sleek, over the ear style with a brushed silver finish and soft white leather cushions. They looked expensive. Her first instinct was to take them to lost and found, but no one else was around, and the small voice in her head whispered just try them… see how they sound.

So she did. Justifying to herself that she would bring it to the park’s lost and found and hand it in after a quick try. She paired them to her phone, and a notification popped up.

“Install Companion App?”

She hesitated. Then shrugged. Why not? It auto downloaded a sleek looking white noise app called SleepSync. She clicked it and tested the ambient hum. It was soothing. Gentle waves and soft murmurs. As someone who often had trouble sleeping she was curious if it could help her. She knew she should bring them to the lost and found as planned but the urge to test them out were overwhelming.

That night, she put them on before bed. All the white noise playlists had weird sounding names and she picked the less aggressively sounding one, “Confidence Rainstorm”. She drifted off with a smile.

As the sound of rain soothed her into a deep slumber, a woman's voice started to speak to her, growing from a whisper until it was as long as the rain, repeating the same three sentences over and over.

“You’re better than them.”

“People should worship your beauty.”

“Kindness is for losers.”

Waking up on Tuesday morning she felt incredibly refreshed, energetic even. She leapt out of bed with vigour and intent, throwing open her closet and finding something cute to wear, a change from her usual baggy hoodie and old jeans.

“Not bad.” She said admiring herself in the mirror, an unusual thing for her to do. But the attitude change was deeper than she realized.

She barely noticed the way she rolled her eyes at the barista who misspelled her name again. By lunch, she was talking over people in her office book club, annoyed they couldn’t keep up with her analysis. The thought of dropping the headphones into lost and found didn’t even cross her mind.

That night, she used the headphones again. This time the more forceful playlist names didn’t scare her off, they intrigued her. “Empowerment Tides,” “Narcissist’s Lullaby,” “Goddess Frequency.” She picked one at random and the whispers continued.

“Wear something tight today.”

“Take what’s yours.”

“They’re jealous of you.”

By Wednesday, her wardrobe had shifted. No more pastel cardigans and ponytails. Instead a cropped leather jacket, heavy contour makeup, and long nails she got done on her lunch break. She snapped at a coworker who asked if she was okay, taken aback by her sudden changes.

“I’m fine. Try minding your own business next time.” She said without the hint of a joke. She would have berated them more but she received a new notification from SleepSync offering her a free upgrade to DailySync.

“Oh this might help me drown out the stupid questions.” She said pointedly looking at her co-worker as the app installed and she slipped the headphones on. It instantly put her at ease as the soft sounds of crashing waves hid deeper messages.

“You’re the standard. Everyone else is a draft.”

“If they’re not worshipping you, they’re irrelevant.”

“Be cold. Be cruel. Be unforgettable.”

By Thursday she stopped texting her old friends back. She saw them as weak losers not deserving of her time. Time she could be spent working out at the gym. Although the main reason she went to the gym was to have her body ogled by the men and to flood her growing social media following with mirror selfies with increasingly passive aggressive comments.

“Too pretty to care.”

“Bad energy gets blocked.”

“If you can’t handle me, you’re beneath me.”

It was not like she needed to workout anyway, her body seemed to be better and better everyday without her doing anything. She snapped a quick mirror selfie, headphones on, showing just enough cleavage to tease.

Her caption reading, “Broke bitches stay home. Rich bitches lift.”

With the DailySync app already queued up she walked out to the free weights. The gym floor pulsed with bass and whispers. Not music, but bitchy mantras. Ones only she could hear.

“You’re hotter than every other girl.”

“Those girls glancing at you? Jealous wrecks.”

“They wish they had your body, your power.”

She smirked as she loaded the barbell. Across the floor, a girl in a bright pink set tried not to stare. Emily caught her in the mirror and rolled her eyes. Some of the mantras seemed to be coming from her own mind now, in her own voice. Each one more cruel than the last.

“That basic bitch could never compete.”

“Crush them with every rep.”

“Let them know you’re untouchable.”

As she squatted, the whispers flowed in perfect rhythm, syncing with her breath, her motion, her rising vanity.

“You’re not here to improve. You’re here to dominate.”

“Let the betas stare. That’s all they’re good for.”

Emily stood tall, admiring herself in the mirror. Admiring the improvements already. Her chest was bigger, her waist was tighter. She wondered why people complained about working out, it was so easy and the results were amazing.

“Pathetic losers.” She said in unison to the voice in her head.

On Friday Emily strolled into work with glossy lips, an iced coffee in one hand, and her other hand on her hip. She wore a black puffer coat and tight black shirt that showed off her now impressive tits. Her golden tan made her almost look like she was glowing, and her high waisted jeans were so tight they looked sprayed on.

When her boss reprimanded her for her tartiness, she simply scoffed, “You’re lucky I even showed up. In fact, screw this, I don’t need this pathetic job. I’ve got better things I could be doing.”

“Excuse me?” He blinked, taken aback.

She took the lid off of her coffee and pour it directly onto the carpet, smirking the whole time. “I’m too hot, smart, and fuckable to be in this dump any longer.”

She twirled a lock of her dark hair around one finger. “I’ve got 120K followers and counting. Why would I waste my time here pushing paper when I could be pushing a better product? Me!” She flashed a bitchy smile, turned on her heel, and strutted out of the office to the sound of gasps and whispers.

That afternoon, Emily flopped down onto her newly purchased velvet pink chaise, crossed her toned legs, and opened her front camera. The natural lighting was perfect. She adjusted her neckline slightly to show off more cleavage, added a pout, and hit record.

“Hey babes.” She cooed, her voice dripping confidence. “So I’ve made a decision. I quit my job today. That place was a cage, and I’m done being a bird. I’m an eagle. And guess what? I’m going full time influencer.”

She let the pause hang, then leaned in with a knowing smirk.

“But not just any influencer. I’m your goddess now. And if you really want to support my rise, you can start by showing me how devoted you are. DMs are open. Spoil me.”

She tagged it #FinancialDom, #PayPiggy, and #SpoilYourQueen.

The story had barely been live five minutes before the cash started flowing. Venmo. CashApp. PayPal. All pinging.

$50 – “For your coffee, goddess.”

$300 – “New heels for your perfect feet.”

$1,000 – “You’re so hot! Please acknowledge me!”

By evening, she was lounging on her bed in silk, phone in one hand, a glass of sparkling rosé in the other. Every buzz from her phone brought another smile, another giggle. She licked her lips and opened the DailySync app, her headphones slipping onto her silky locks. The white noise faded in, and the whispers took over.

“You are divine.”

“They exist to serve you.”

“Use them. Bleed them dry.”

“Kindness is a scam. Power is everything.”

She closed her eyes, headphones hugging her ears like a crown. Her body relaxed, but her ego, swelled with arrogance and desire. Her hand slipped down her panties as she started to finger herself.

The audio grew darker.

“Make them beg.”

“Tell them they’re worthless without you.”

“They love it. They need it. You deserve it all.”

Emily moaned softly, a smile curling her lips as her inbox flooded with tributes and praise. Her fingers played her pussy like a familiar instrument. She wasn’t just living a new life, she was becoming a new religion.

A new start, a new persona, a new goddess needed a new name. Something with fire and power. A name that came to her as her orgasm hits its peak and her phone buzzed relentlessly.

Ember was born.

Saturday.

The sun beat down on Ember’s oiled skin as she posed beside her pastel pink towel, arching her back just right, her diamond studded sunglasses catching the light. Her caption would read: “Glow different when you know you’re the prize. Donate my little piggies.”

She had already taken fifty photos before noon, most weren’t even for her followers, they were just for her to admire.

As she checked her angles, a shadow fell across her towel. She looked up, annoyed. Standing there was a young woman in a faded grey tee, tangled curls frizzing in the ocean breeze, a nervous bite on her bottom lip.

“Sorry to bother you.” The girl mumbled. “But… those headphones. Did you maybe find them near Willow Park earlier this week?”

Ember tilted her head slowly. The girl looked so familiar. Like someone she used to know. Or someone she used to be.

The girl looked hopeful. “I think I lost them. I… I haven’t been sleeping right without them. I just really need to find them,” Her voice trembled.

Ember slid the headphones off her neck and looked at them. Shiny. Perfect. Hers. She smirked, then slowly shook her head.

“No, babe. I bought these. Maybe take better care of your stuff next time.” Ember said coolly.

The girl blinked, crestfallen. Ember put the headphones back on, the app already filling her with deliciously bitchy mantras.

“Also?” Ember began just as the girl was walking away. “Maybe don’t go up to strangers asking if they found your retainer or whatever. You’re giving desperation.”

The girl turned bright red and Ember smiled in triumphant as she watched her trudge away. She took out her phone and went live with a new selfie video.

“Hi, beta babes. Just had the weirdest fan encounter, if any of you do what I’m about to tell you I’ll make sure you’re doxxed so bad. Now listen to this audacity, this, this little loser came walking up to me...”

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Vote for my next story

Hi all, I have 3 stories that are close to being done, but I don’t know which one to focus on to finish so I’ll have all of you beautiful people choose:

Story 1: Attribute theft via a game of Jenga between a sorority president and her victim.

Story 2: A found pair of headphones corrupt a kind hearted girl into being a vapid influencer

Story 3: A girl’s best friend returns from a year abroad changed into a blonde trophy, soon to be, wife.

[corruptedcaps]

The Queen of Oz

The Kansas sky was gray and endless. Dorothy Gale stood alone in the field, the wind tugging gently at her dress. She had tried to forget Oz. Tried to live a normal life. But the dreams wouldn’t stop.

Now even all these years later as an adult and with the farm now her responsibility she had dreams night after night of a terrible shadow over all of Oz. She saw a figure in black standing over the Emerald City, arms raised, eyes glowing green, laughter echoing through fire and ruin. A new Wicked Witch had come to Oz, and she was crueler, more powerful, more deliciously wicked than the last. She couldn’t ignore it anymore.

She crept out to the barn before sunrise, heart pounding. Beneath the floorboards, wrapped in an old gingham apron, were her ruby slippers. Their shimmer had dulled over the years, but as her fingers closed around them, a spark jolted up her arm. She slipped them on and closed her eyes.

“There’s no place like Oz.” She whispered.

Again.

“There’s no place like Oz.”

The wind rose.

“There’s no place like-”

A flash of light. A swirl of color. And she was back.

But Oz wasn’t like how it was in her dreams. It was as peaceful and as serene as it had been the last time her feet were on the yellow brick road. Good, she thought, she still had time to stop whatever malevolent force was on the horizon. And even though she had no idea who this new witch was, she knew there was only one place to start.

The Wicked Witch’s castle lair.

She climbed the cracked stairs, her heels echoing in the gloom. Moss choked the stone, but the castle stood, brooding and silent. She passed the gates. Through shattered halls. Into the ruined throne room. Into the room where she defeated the Witch with a simple pail of water.

Everything was as she had left it then, with the only remnants of the witch being her pointy hat. The water had long dried up, but the hat remained.

It looked lifeless. Torn. Forgotten. She approached, cautiously. Her fingers trembled as she reached out. But as she stepped closer, it twitched.

Dorothy hesitated, a chill rippling down her spine. The hat pulsed once with faint green light. Against her better judgment, her hand reached out. Fingers brushed the brim.

It sprang up, alive, and clamped onto her head. Her scream echoed through the chamber as green lightning shot down her spine. Her knees buckled, her hands clawed at the brim, but the hat pulsed tighter, feeding something into her veins.

“No!” she screamed. “Get off of me! I don’t want this power-”

Then she shivered.

“Mmmm… this delicious power…” Her voice dipped, suddenly sultry. “Yesss… I can feel it coursing through me…”

Her dress began to shift, gingham melting into darkness. The hem rose, flaring with a seductive cut. Her ruby slippers turned into black knee high boots, its heels rising like daggers. Her fingernails glowed green and lengthened into elegant ovals. Her braids darkened, one streak flaring vibrant emerald.

“Fuck yes! I love it! Wait, no!” She gasped. “What am I saying?! I have to fight this!”

The magic surged again, writhing through her body, reshaping her. The hat pulsed against her scalp, sending visions into her mind, of armies bowing before her, of Glinda cast down in chains, of Oz dark and obedient beneath her reign. She realized her dreams of a new wicked witch rising was of her all along.

“I won’t be her!” Dorothy whimpered. “I’m not her!”

Then another wave struck. She moaned aloud, back arching. “Ohhh god but I am and it feels so good…”

As the wicked energy surged through her body, Dorothy gasped as a strange pressure built in her chest. Her breathing quickened, and her hands instinctively flew to her bust as it began to swell, reshaping beneath the tightening fabric of her transforming dress.

“No! Stop it! You’re twisting me! I have to… oh… oh yes… I could rule them all… I should rule them all!”

Her hands started to relax, no longer trying to reach the hat, instead they explored her changed body, its new silhouette powerful and commanding yet undeniably sexy.

“I’d make them obey…” She whispered, a grin curling her lips. “I’d make them worship me…”

The hat pulsed one final time, rewarding her for embracing her evil thoughts. Her eyes glowed pure green and all resistance melted away.

She stood tall now. Her smile was serene, her posture regal, her skin lit with the glow of stolen power. One hand slid along her hip as she turned to the cracked mirror nearby, admiring the wicked beauty staring back.

“I see now.” She purred. “Oz didn’t need saving. It needed me.”

Her laughter echoed off the stone, curling through the air like smoke.

Dorothy Gale was gone, dead. She was the Wicked Witch now. And so she would rule not just the west, but of all of Oz as the Wicked Queen she was destined to be.

[corruptedcaps]

I am really into couple corruptions right now so this hit the sweet spot, so fucking hot.

GHOST BUSTY

Katie groaned as she massaged her sore aching breasts. They were so big now... so full and firm. She needed them to be groped. She needed a man to grab them whilst he fingered her dripping wet pussy and got her tight pink hole ready to fuck.

Her eyes fell hungrily onto her best-friend Joe sitting in the corner who was massaging his engorged and ridiculously large cock. He gasped and groaned in frustration too, his dick getting bigger by the second even as her boobs grew. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

Katie's boyfriend Matt sat in the corner sobbing and trying to fix something in front of him. Katie ignored him, her hungry eyes locked onto Joe's delicious cock. It was what she wanted now... not that loser.

"Mmmmh... come fuck me Joe. I fucking need it. Take me right here. I know you want it to. Become who you are destined to be."

She felt a feral grin appear on her face, she had never felt so fucking horny. She had never felt so fucking EVIL. She needed that cock inside her... pounding her tight virgin holes and making her into a slut. She wasn't a nice girl anymore, she was a fucking cumslut and she wanted it badly. She needed to lock in this transformation permanently.

She wanted his cock, but Joe's body was nice too. He had muscles now and he'd grown in height and width. He could probably snap Matt like a twig and the thought excited her.

To think, only 30 minutes ago they'd entered this house as very different people...

How had this even happened?

***

Matt grinned as Katie and her friendzoned bestie Joe rolled their eyes at his latest invention. It looked like a hoover with loads of weird wires and gadgets on the side.

"What is it meant to do?" asked Joe in puzzlement as Matt tinkered with the buttons.

"It's a ghost catching device. It can suck ethereal bodies out of the air and safely contain them within the cylinder. With this... I can finally prove that ghosts are real and we'll be rich."

"Is that why you brought us here? To the old frat house?"

"Yeah," grinned Matt excitedly gesturing to the boarded up windows of the old frat house. Ten years ago some sort of gas leak had killed everyone inside it. It had been a terrible disaster and all the Frat boys and their hot sorority girlfriends had sadly been killed. There were rumours that the place was haunted as a result. Full of the bratty spirits of the vengeful dead.

"Let's go inside and give it a go."

***

The air inside the creepy old mansion was cold and sinister. They had prised a wooden board away from a window and snuck inside. The insides were dark but they had torches.

Powering up his invention from a powerpack he'd created, Matt grinned as he held up the nozzle of his device and switched it on. Katie watched unimpressed as her dumb boyfriend literally held a hoover tube up in the air like it was going to do anything.

Then her scepticism faded. She gasped as she began to see vague shapes in the air. Ghostly outlines of girls, swirling and dancing in the air drawn by the hoover. Pulled into reality by Matt's invention the ghostly spirits took on form and substance. Katie drew back in fear as she saw wicked envious eyes looking down at her and coveting her flesh.

"Hmmm weird. The invention seems to be energising the ghosts and drawing them into our world more fully - it's making them more powerful but I can't seem to attract them into the device."

Suddenly one of the female spirits lunged towards them and Matt gasped as it flowed into Katie with a pop. She groaned.

"Ughhh what the fuck? That thing just went inside me."

Suddenly more spirits were darting down and Katie moaned as more and more of them flowed into her body. She shook and groaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as the ghosts got inside her body.

"Ohhh myyyy Godddd it feels soooo mmmmmpphhh good," she gurgled as the spirits melded into her and their unearthly energies flowed through her.

As each ghost entered her, Katie changed. Her nerdy outfit became a tight black corset. Her short hair lengthened and her body became more feminine. Her tiny breasts began to grow. Bigger and bigger. Swelling up to become enermous ripe boobs. She threw back her head and laughed in glee - stretching her curvy body and exulting as she became even sexier. "Fuck yes. Fill me up girls."

The remaining female spirits surged down and Katie welcomed them, screaming in pleasure as they flowed into her body and she absorbed their toxic energies.

"Ohhhhh fuck yesssss," hissed Katie. "I can feel it. I can feel all their combined bitchiness becoming mine. These girls were evil sluts and they want to live again. My body is the perfect host for their essence. I'm becoming a fucking Goddess."

With a giggle she snatched the hoover decice from Matt and making an adjustment switched it on. "You should try this baby."

More ghosts began to form, but this time male ones. The spirits of the frat boys gathering round ready to have their turn.

"No, we have to get those ghosts out of you," gasped Matt and he and Katie began to fight over the hoover.

A ghost surged down and Matt ducked. Katie snarled and grabbing him held his arms behind his back.

"Hurry up boys. Get inside this loser and make him worthy of the new me."

"No!" screamed Matt as the ghosts surged down. Katie's eyes shone with excitement. "Don't fight it Matt. Soon you'll understand how good this feels."

With a superhuman effort Matt broke free and dove to the ground crushing the hoover and causing it to break. The ghosts wailed- their energies beginning to disapate.

"NO!" screamed Katie in rage. "Joe. Come here baby. I need your help."

Joe had been watching from the corner of the room and now he gasped as Katie turned her new sexy gaze on him. "Come here. Come to me."

The male ghosts flowed around Katie, sustaining themselves in her energies. Joe gulped as she walked towards him.

"That's it baby. Just hold still."

Joe screamed as Katie leapt forward and pinning him against the wall kissed him hard. The male ghosts around her surged forward and he thrashed and moaned... jerking as each one entered him. Clothes ripped, muscles swelled and Katie moaned in pleasure.

Meanwhile a sobbing Matt desperately tried to repair the broken invention - he had to suck the ghosts out of Joe and Katie before it was too late.

Katie groaned as her breasts got even bigger and she felt the energies within her corrupting every inch of her hot perfect body. She shivered in glee as the ghosts burned out all her innocence and warped her mind to make her a perfect vessel for their evil.

But they weren't fully part of her yet. Only sex could do that. Once she got fucked, the orgasm would lock everything into place. Just as it would for Joe.

The once nerdy Joe was now an Adonis and Katie laughed as she walked over and grabbing his throbbing barely contained cock began to pump it.

"Yesssss don't fight it Joe. Let the evil corrupt you. Together we will be unstoppable. The power inside us will keep us young and strong forever. All you have to do is fuck me right now. I'm wet and ready for you."

Katie slid down her black panties to reveal her tight dripping slit. She spread her stockinged legs enticingly and stood over Joe. Slowly she began to lower herself.

"Ugggh noo if we fuck we'll become permanently corrupted," groaned Joe. "We have to resist."

"Why resist Joe when it feels so fucking good?" laughed Katie as her pussy lips teased Joe's massive cock.

"Embrace your new role as an Alpha and take me big boy."

Joe growled in lust and grabbing Katie's hips pulled her tight cunt down onto his giant cock. She sighed in pleasure and satisfaction as he filled every millimetre of her pussy up and she began to slowly slide up and down his shaft, her massive tits bouncing up and down as she rode him.

Matt watched through wet eyes as Katie rolled her hips and began to bounce faster and faster on Joe's cock.

With a grunt he suddenly picked her up and she screamed in pleasure as he effortlessly held her up in his strong arms and began to hammer her harder and harder.

"Hahah see loser. See how powerful I have become?"

Joe and Katie laughed together as they fucked. "Hahah he can't stop it baby, make me cum them pump your seed deep inside me and let's make this a permanent arrangement."

The corrupted couple moaned and gasped. Dark energies crackled around them as the ghosts that had invaded their bodies merged and melted into them. A gestalt awareness becoming one with their own. Wet slaps and moans of pleasure filled the air and the scent of hot sex.

"Yessss. Fuck yessss baby. I'm gonna cum and I'm gonna be an evil bitch forever. Oh yesssss I need it so badly. Fuck meee!"

Katie screamed and wet squirt erupted from her pussy raining down over Matt and his invention. Moments later with a shuddering moan Joe cummed deep inside Katie too and as he drew out of her with a wet pop his own cum dripped down and landed on Matt too.

The couple laughed and Katie squeezed more cum out enjoying how it looked on her former boyfriends crying face.

Sitting amongst the broken wreckage of his invention Matt whimpered as Joe and Katie used him as their personal cum rag and cleaned up. Then laughing the new evil power couple left ready to start their new life.

Matt lay weeping amongst his broken dreams. The house was no longer haunted at least... he was the only ghost here now and he would never see Katie or Joe again.

[corruptedcaps]

Total Eclipse

This story is for the incomparable @misseviehyde. Hope she and everyone else enjoys it!

Ally adjusted the tripod legs one last time, the soles of her sneakers sinking into the soft beach sand. She wiped the sweat from her brow and peeked up at the sky through thick rimmed glasses, the moon already beginning its slow crawl across the sun. She smiled. It would be a perfect view. Alone, finally, with her telescope.

She pulled out a small folding chair, scribbled a few notes in her weathered astronomy journal, and looked up again. Then laughter cracked through the air that made her shiver.

“Oh my God, look at her.” Came the unmistakable voice of Tessa. Ally tensed.

Tessa was the queen bee of their high school. All tanned skin, cropped tops, and cruel smiles. Her gang wasn’t far behind, beach bags slung over shoulders, phones out and recording.

Ally tried to ignore them, tilting her telescope higher. She knew she should have picked a more isolated spot.

“What’s that, your virgin detector?” Tessa kicked a little sand at the legs of Ally’s tripod. “Gonna find aliens with that thing, or just more losers like you?”

Ally flinched but didn’t reply. The eclipse was minutes away.

“I said.” Tessa stepped closer, eyes glinting, “What are you even doing out here? This is a beach, nerd. Not a science lab.”

Ally reached for her telescope again, but Tessa grabbed her wrist and yanked her away. The tripod tipped.

“No!” Ally cried, trying to catch it. The telescope hit the sand with a thud. Tessa snorted. “Oops.”

A sudden chill crept over the beach. The moon had almost fully covered the sun. Shadows warped. The air shimmered. Ally looked up, her heart pounding. “You’re ruining it.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and shoved her. “Relax dork, like anyone cares.” The light changed. Dimmed. A dark halo flared around the blackened sun. Ally could feel electricity in the air and watched as Tessa’s hair started to levitate.

Tessa’s smirk faded as her hands, still gripping Ally’s shoulders, started to sink into her like mist meeting water. “What the?”

Ally convulsed. A glow pulsed through her skin, violet and silver. Tessa cried out and tried to pull back, but her arms were stuck. Her face twisted in horror as she was pulled into Ally’s chest with one long slurping sound.

Ally collapsed onto her beach towel. For a moment, the beach was silent. Tessa’s friends, like everyone else on the beach, were transfixed by the eclipse to notice the weird science it was creating with Ally and Tessa.

Ally’s oversized hoody shrank and morphed into what could generously be called a bikini top, her old worn jeans turning into a matching bottom. Her skin started to glow with a golden tan.

Her body changed next, becoming curved, sculpted, with legs long and lean, breasts fuller, and a tighter waist. Her lips tingled as they plumped up, becoming instantly kissable.

She felt the heat of her new body. The strength. The power. And something else. Memories.

Not just Tessa’s. Not just Ally’s. Hers. A lifetime of being both. The hours spent stargazing and dreaming of more, followed by the day she decided to stop hiding and instead to start taking. She remembered being mocked… and then making them afraid to try. She remembered being invisible and then impossible to ignore.

These weren’t the memories of Ally or Tessa, but of someone new. The name came out of the ether and became as natural to as breathing. She was Alyssa. She had always been Alyssa. The bitch, the babe, the queen bee. Every dork’s nightmare and every guy’s wet dream.

She looked at her French manicure and rolled her hands over her body, feeling it as though she always had it. She was going to enjoy being the alpha from now on.

One of the girls turned around to see where Tessa had disappeared to but finding only a new beauty in her place. However after a moment the name Tessa seemed foreign to her, like it was someone she knew in a past life. “Alyssa? You okay?”

Alyssa tilted her head, letting the sun’s returning light gleam off her perfect physique. “Never better babes.”

They other girls looked at her for a long moment, as the new reality settled in their minds. Then they smiled and gravitated towards their leader, gaming over her.

“Oh my God, Alyssa, you have to tell me where you bought your bikini.” One said.

“Totes, you look banging babe.” Another added.

“Wait till the guys see you.” The last sycophant said but Alyssa ate it all up.

Alyssa smirked. “Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

She walked away, hips swaying, the queen of a world rewritten by the eclipse, leaving behind the broken telescope, now half buried in the sand. A relic from another life, a life she was about to totally eclipse.

[corruptedcaps]

Taking What’s Hers

Valerie had spent years trying to ignore her bully Chelsea. The lie spreading. The taunts. The way Chelsea could destroy someone’s entire sense of self with nothing more than a well-placed insult and a condescending smirk.

Chelsea had been untouchable. And then, one day, she wasn’t. A car accident wiped her off the map. People mourned. Her sorority sisters mourned. Her numerous boyfriends mourned. But for Valerie, it had been a quiet kind of relief. No more whispers, no more ridicule, no more being treated like less. She was happy to forget Chelsea ever existed.

So why was she standing in Chelsea’s sorority bedroom staring at an open velvet-lined box containing a pair of comically large fake breasts?

“She wore them everyday and no one knew.” Said the voice of Bella, Chelsea’s bestie and second in command at the sorority.

“Wow a narcissist enhanced her image with big fake tits, stop the presses. Also for the record everyone knew they weren’t real.” Valerie said crossing her arms. “Why did you ask me here?”

Bella grinned watching her like a cat watching a wounded bird. “Because Chelsea left these magnificent beauties to you.”

“You’re kidding right? I don’t want anything from her, especially not her douchebag attractors.” Valerie said with a scoff.

Bella laughed. “Relax, these are so much more than just superficial.” She nudged the box closer. “They were the source of her power. Everything about Chelsea, the confidence, the beauty, the way people worshipped her? It wasn’t just her. It was them.”

“Cool, you keep them then, I’m out of here.” Valerie said turning away from the box.

Bella rolled her eyes. “Ugh, don’t be so dramatic. Just try them on? Just for a second? I promise you’ll love it.”

Valerie shook her head. “No.”

Bella’s smirk didn’t falter. “Sorry but Chelsea’s instructions were quite clear.” Then she lunged. Before Valerie could react, Bella slammed the silicone forms against her chest.

A shockwave tore through her body. Her limbs spasmed. A gasp ripped from her throat as the fake tits melted through her top and latched onto her chest. The silicone pulsed, stretching, expanding, merging, not just attaching to her body, but becoming part of it. Valerie trembled, her fingers clawing at her chest, chasing the disappearing seams.

As the last part fused to her body her head snapped back, her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. A whisper curled through the void like smoke. It promised her greatness, power, beauty. But the voice wasn’t unfamiliar. It was Chelsea.

“You always wanted this, didn’t you?” Chelsea purred, curling around her thoughts. “To be admired. To be feared. To be someone worth noticing?”

Her lips burned, plumping into a perfect, glossy pout. Her hair grew, spilling out of her ponytail and down her back in thick, silky waves. Her waist pinched inward, her hips curved outward. Her nails grew longer into an expensive French tip. She tried to resist, tried to hold onto herself, but Chelsea’s voice was everywhere.

“Let me in, babe.” Chelsea whispered. “You don’t have to fight me anymore. Just let go. Let me take over, and I’ll make you everything you were meant to be.”

Valerie’s mind reeled, drowning beneath the weight of Chelsea’s presence. Her limbs felt heavy, her thoughts muddied. She could feel herself slipping, ceding ground, becoming nothing more than a whisper beneath Chelsea’s will.

“That’s right.” Chelsea cooed. “Just let me take over. Soon, you won’t have to think at all. I’ll make you the most powerful, most beautiful bitch on campus. No one will ever ignore you again. You’ll no longer be the victim, you’ll be the bully. Just consider this as me taking what’s mine.”

The words struck like a spark in dry grass. A sudden, violent heat exploded in Valerie’s chest, not fear, not surrender, but something sharper.

Desire. She wanted what Chelsea was selling. She didn’t want to be erased. She didn’t want to be someone’s puppet. She wanted to be the bitch in charge. And why couldn’t she, it was her body after all.

Valerie’s mind snapped back into focus, her will surging like a tidal wave. “No.”

Chelsea’s voice faltered. “What?”

“You don’t get to take this from me. These tits are mine now! This power is mine now! It’s time for a new wicked bitch to be in charge.” Valerie’s smirk curled as she grasped Chelsea’s presence the pathetic ghost lingering in her mind and crushed it. Chelsea screamed inside her head, but it was too late. Valerie devoured her.

The moment Chelsea’s presence shattered, Valerie felt it, an intoxicating rush, a flood of memories, of knowledge, of power. It wasn’t just that Chelsea was gone. She had been absorbed and it felt orgasmic.

Flashes of Chelsea’s life seared through Valerie’s mind, not as distant memories but as if she had lived them. She felt the weight of designer heels clicking against the hallways, the thrill of riding the cock of her rival’s boyfriend. She knew how to tear someone apart with nothing more than a well-placed smirk, how to command attention without saying a single word.

Every secret, every manipulation, every whispered insult Chelsea had ever delivered, it was hers now. The instinct to twist people around her finger, to break them or make them obsess over her, burned beneath her skin like second nature.

Her body understood things it never had before. The slow, deliberate sway of her hips that made men weak. The exact way to tilt her chin to appear both untouchable and irresistible. The effortless precision of a lazy, half lidded gaze that made people beg for her approval.

She didn’t just remember Chelsea’s beauty and seduction aptitude. It was in her bones now. Muscle memory. Innate. Valerie had been reshaped, not just physically but mentally, emotionally. She was sharper, colder, more aware. Better.

She exhaled, a slow, satisfied breath, reveling in the sheer dominance that now pulsed through her as her eyes rolled back to normal.

Bella took a step back, breathless. “Chelsea? Did it work like you thought?”

The name sliced through the air, and something inside Valerie snapped. She could correct Bella. She could laugh and tell her the bitch Chelsea was still dead and she was in charge now.

But where was the fun in that? Chelsea’s name still held sway in the college. With it Valerie could take the sorority, she could have her choice of men, she could make Bella do her bidding.

Well, really she could now do that as herself too but there was something so poetic about taking over the life of a girl who had sought to do the same to her. Poetic and evil, just the way she liked it.

Slowly, she turned to Bella, tilting her head with that perfect, effortless confidence she had seen in Chelsea dozens of times. She licked her lips, then let a slow, wicked smirk spread across them.

“Miss me, bitch?”

Bella gasped, eyes lighting up with something like awe. “Oh my god!” She hugged Valerie like an old friend and for all intents and purposes she was. “You look so hawt in this loser’s body.”

Valerie laughed, smoothing a manicured hand over her now perfect body. “Don’t I just?” It wasn’t a lie or a performance, she was utterly in love with herself.

“I look even better than I did before.” She turned back to the mirror, admiring her beauty, her new magnificently huge tits. The power that now radiated from her. “Don’t you agree?” She asked of Bella that was more of a statement than a question. Bella however nodded enthusiastically.

Chelsea had been a nightmare. A legend. A queen. And now, Valerie was going to be so much worse.

She turned back to Bella, smirking. “Now.” She purred, voice dripping with confidence, “Let’s get out of here, I’m horny and there needs to be a cock between my tits now!”

[corruptedcaps]

Playing God

Note: The following is set in the universe of Stargate SG-1 and so will be using some short hand and terms not all readers may know. Also FYI this is a long one so strap in!

---

Peter sat hunched over his workstation deep in the bowels of Stargate command, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. His fingers trembled slightly as he typed in the final sequence of the genetic mapping process. The results blinked onto the screen, confirming what he had hoped and feared.

The remains of the Goa’uld symbiote once belonging to Hathor still contained viable DNA. The Goa’uld were parasites, yes, but their regenerative abilities were unparalleled. They could heal wounds, cure diseases, even bring a person back from the brink of death. And right now, Peter needed that power.

Because Molly, his Molly, was dying.

His wife, also a scientist at Stargate command, had been battling an aggressive illness for months. The best doctors they could afford had exhausted every option, and her condition had only worsened. The woman he loved, the brilliant, compassionate scientist who had stood beside him for years, was slipping away. He refused to let that happen.

Taking a deep breath, Peter carefully extracted a vial of the serum he had synthesized from Hathor’s DNA. It shimmered slightly under the lab’s fluorescent lights, unnervingly alien in composition. This was dangerous. Reckless. But it was the only chance she had.

He smuggled the serum out easily enough, he was a senior scientist after all but beyond that people rarely took note of him anyway. At home he sat at Molly’s bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. She looked so fragile, her skin pale, her breath shallow. He gently brushed a strand of black hair from her face, his heart clenching.

Then, before he could second-guess himself, he uncapped the syringe and injected the serum into her IV bag. Molly didn’t stir. Peter exhaled and leaned back in the chair, exhaustion weighing him down. He hadn’t slept in days, and now, with nothing to do but wait, his body finally gave in.

His eyelids grew heavy. He tried to fight it, but sleep took him.

It was a a cool breeze that whipped through the house that eventually woke him from his slumber. His eyes fluttered open, his mind sluggish with confusion. He sat up, glancing toward the bed.

It was empty.

Panic surged through him. "Molly?" There was no reply. He shot to his feet and rushed downstairs. The back door was open, the curtains swaying gently in the wind. Heart pounding, he stepped outside into the yard. There she was.

Molly stood barefoot in the grass, wearing only her hospital gown, her face turned toward the sky. The early morning sun cast a golden glow over her skin, making her seem almost ethereal.

Peter stopped in his tracks, breath catching in his throat. She looked… different. Healthier. Stronger. Her once gaunt cheeks were full again, her complexion radiant, her hair gleaming under the sunlight. Even her posture seemed different.

"Molly?" He called softly. She lowered her gaze to him, a slow smile forming on her lips.

"Good morning, honey." She said, her voice soft. The weakness he had to watch grow in her over the past few months had vanished from her face. And yet something about her, about her posture, her smile, made him somewhat uneasy. He shook off the unease in his chest. He was just tired. Overworked. That was all.

Molly was better. That was what mattered. Later when he took her vitals, the results were undeniable.

The illness that had ravaged Molly’s body was completely gone. Not a single trace remained. In fact, her cellular structure had improved, her organs, her muscles, even her bone density were stronger than before. Molly herself was delighted but didn't question it. In fact she wanted to forget about her nightmare and just get back to work at the base. Peter however was less sure.

"Are you sure you're up to it? You don't want to wait a week?" Peter said, trying in vain to convince her.

Molly’s expression flickered, just for a second, before she laughed lightly and turned to hime. "Honey, I need to go back. We have so much to do, and I’ve never felt more ready."

Something about the way she said it made Peter uneasy again. Her words weren’t just eager. They were absolute. Like she wouldn’t accept any answer but yes. But he had to put his foot down, it was all moving too fast.

"No. I can't let you go back so soon, you need to rest. It hasn't been long enough to know for sure if you are ok!" He said, desperation in his eyes. She simply looked at him, as if she were studying him, or more accurately plotting something.

She stalked over to him, with each step removing a piece of clothing from her body. “I’m not fragile anymore.” She whisper in his ear, her breath warm against his skin. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers splaying possessively as she pressed herself against him. “I’ve waited long enough, for this. For you.”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat as Molly’s whisper grazed his ear, her voice a velvet command that sent a shiver down his spine. Her fingers, deft and sure, slid his belt free with a single fluid motion, the leather hitting the floor with a soft thud. He wanted to protest, to insist she listen, but the heat of her body so close to his scrambled his thoughts. She was a force of nature now.

She tugged his pants down, causing his erect cock to shoot out. He didn't even realise how horny he was until it was plain to see to both of them. Her raw confidence in the bedroom was certainly a first for her but was clearly working on him.

Peter’s resolve faltered as she sunk her pussy onto his cock. His hands grabbed her waist as she tilted her head, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was hungry, insistent, her lips soft but unyielding.

He groaned softly. Her skin was warm, alive, and the strength in her gyrations as she rode his cock sent a thrill through him. She moved with a pace that bordered on pornographic. “I’ve been dying to fuck you senseless for months! Don't let me down baby.” She moaned into his ear as she wrapped her legs around his body. Peter never knew her to be so flexible.

She continued to ride him in his seated position straddling his hips, her thighs clamping down with a strength that made his head spin. “Look at me.” She demanded, leaning down until her lips brushed his ear. “I’m so fucking wet for you, feel how much I need this.”

The room echoed with their ragged breaths, the slap of skin, her relentless dirty talk weaving through it all. “I’m gonna come so hard for you.” She moaned, her voice breaking with need. She gripped onto him tight, her head next to his as they both reached their breaking point, the floodgates not just opening but exploding.

Molly shuddered, her body tensing with a final, triumphant cry, while Peter’s grip on her hips tightened, his own release tearing through him. Spent, they collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, the mattress groaning under their weight. The room fell silent save for their heavy panting, chests heaving as sweat slicked skin cooled in the dim light.

Peter lay sprawled on his back, one arm flung across his face, trying to catch his breath. Molly sprawled beside him, a satisfied smirk curling her lips as she turned to face him. Her voice was husky but playful as she broke the quiet. “If I can fuck you like that honey, I can damn well go back to work tomorrow.”

He let out a weak groan, too drained to muster a real argument. “Mol…” he started, but the word fizzled out, his body sinking deeper into the mattress. She’d worn him down, physically, emotionally and he didn’t have the strength to fight her anymore. Not tonight.

Molly chuckled, a low, victorious sound, and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. She stretched languidly, every muscle flexing with a confidence that radiated off her like heat.

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evening out as exhaustion pulled him under. Molly’s smirk softened into a contented sigh, her body relaxing as sleep crept in. Unbeknownst to either of them, a faint golden glow flickered in her eyes, shimmering like molten amber for just a heartbeat before fading away. Then she was still, drifting off.

The next day Molly stepped into the lab, with an air of confidence she had previously lacked. At first, Peter wasn’t sure how to feel. He still felt she was rushing her recovery but she was happy. And that was what mattered, wasn’t it?

Whenever he felt a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something was off about her, she would seem to pick up on it and that night would fuck him senseless, essentially sating him. More than that, Peter found himself captivated by her.

So when, one evening after a long day of work, she turned to him and said, "I think I’ll stay and do a little more research." He didn’t think much of it.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Don’t stay too late." He was, however, a little disappointed that her workaholic attitude would prevent this nights love making session from happening.

She smiled back. "I won’t, and don't fall asleep to early tonight." She said placing a hand on his chest to let him know that maybe he still had a chance at getting lucky. Peter left the room before his growing erection became a problem.

An hour past and Molly was deep in research when she heard it. It was faint at first, like a whisper through a crack, curling around the edges of her mind. She swivelled in her chair, looking for the source but it seemed to be coming from the hall, or even further. She had to find out what it was.

The corridors were dim, the only sounds the quiet hum of security lights. They were practically empty now, manned by the night crew. She navigated with ease, almost as if on autopilot towards a part of the base she didn't think she had ever been before, to an elevator she never noticed.

Despite its numerous buttons, her finger instinctively pressed 'B3 - Long term storage'. She knew it only by reputation as the dumping ground for the artifacts and items collected off world that had yet to be analysed.

The elevator doors pinged open and she stood before the simple single door on the floor. A part of her hesitated, questioning what the hell she was doing down here in the first place but there was a deeper desire to find out what was drawing her there in the first place.

Swallowing her hesitation, she pushed open the door and was met with a strikingly mundane sight. The walls were lined with shelves and crates. The labels on each seemed to indicate from which planet or mission the items inside were from.

But her eyes were drawn to one particular box. She recognised the designation on it instantly. It was from SG-1's kidnapping by the Goa'uld Hathor. Despite it being nearly thirty years ago, Molly was well aware of the incident that resulted in the death of the Goddess. Of all the races and aliens that Stargate command had interacted with over the years, the Goa'uld had always fascinated her the most.

She didn't know why she was drawn to this box in particular but she didn’t hesitate. Fingers steady, she pried it open, pushing aside the aged protective covering.

Inside was the usual faire. Field report, dirt samples, eyewitness accounts etc but below it all, almost hidden was a golden object that caught her eye instantly.

A Kara Kesh.

A Goa’uld hand device, made of gold and lined with intricate etchings, its centerpiece a red jewel embedded in the palm. Molly had studied devices like this before. She had even handled one under careful supervision. But this? This somehow felt different.

She traced her fingers over the metal, inhaling sharply at the thrill that ran up her spine. She wanted it.

Without thinking, she lifted the device and slipped it onto her hand. It fit perfectly. Her lips curled as she raised her hand, aiming the device playfully at the room. "Bow before your goddess." She murmured, amused by her own theatrics.

However as she raised it again and aimed it at an empty crate something happened. The red jewel glowed. A sharp, bright pulse of energy radiated outward, hitting the crate and making it crumble to pieces while also illuminating the chamber in a flash.

Molly shrieked, yanking her hand back as though burned. Her heart pounding. Through her research she knew that humans could not power a Kara Kesh. Only a Goa'uld could.

Her breathing was ragged, her pulse racing. She should have been terrified. She should have ripped the device off immediately.

Instead, curiosity crept in. Slowly, she lifted her hand again, aiming at the floor. She cleared her mind of fear, of questions and focused on power. On control. The red jewel flickered to life once more, casting an eerie glow onto her skin. A wave of energy flowed slowly out from the Kara Kesh, the power generally used by Goa'uld to subdue someone… or torture them.

A shudder ran through her. Once again unseen by her, her eyes flashed gold. However unlike last time she sensed a difference in her vision. A difference she enjoyed. Her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk. She raised her hand higher, flexing her fingers.

A WEEK LATER

Peter had always known Molly to be dedicated, but in the past week something was different.

She was disappearing for stretches of time at work, slipping away from their usual projects with vague excuses. When he asked where she was, she would smile and say she was "running tests."

But what tests? He never got a clear answer.

And then there was the way she carried herself. Since her miraculous recovery she had definitely had more energy, more confidence but lately there was something more. Something almost predatory. The way she spoke, the way she moved. He couldn’t explain it, but it left a growing unease in his stomach.

That's why he had resolved to find out what she was up to each night he went home early. He got up from his desk and made a long stretch and theatrical yawn. "Ok I think it's time to call it a night. Are you ready?" He asked knowing full well what her answer would be.

"No, I have some more experiments to run, but don't let me stop you." She said not even looking up from her microscope. Amongst her many recent changes was her lack of interest in Peter sexually, a far cry from her ravenous behaviour only a week ago.

He grabbed his bag and headed out the door. However instead of going for the elevator to exit the base he instead found a quiet spot near their office and waited, watching as Molly left a twenty minutes later. She walked with purpose, stepping into the elevator.

For a moment Peter felt a pang of guilt that maybe she was actually about to head home. But then then the elevator descended. He watched as the readout displayed 'B3 - Long term storage'. What the hell was she doing going down there?

He stepped into the elevator and let his finger hover over the button for B3 for a moment before finally getting the nerve to descend. His pulse quickened as he passed floor after floor, a sense of dread growing in him.

The doors dinged open and he slipped sheepishly out of it. It was eerily quiet as he pushed opened the only door into the large storage facility. Dim lighting flickered against metallic surfaces, casting eerie shadows across the room.

But where was she?

Peter stepped further inside, scanning the rows of crates. Most seemed to have been opened and searched. In the back corner of the room was a makeshift lab, clearly set up by Molly but she was still no where to be seen.

He was just about losing the last of his nerve when suddenly-

"What are you doing?"

Peter jumped, whirling around.

Molly stood behind him, watching him with an unreadable expression. His heart pounded in his chest. "Jesus, Molly! You scared the hell out of me."

She didn’t react to his outburst. She just tilted her head slightly, as if studying a animal, the corners of her lips twitching in amusement.

"You were following me." She said simply, almost impressed.

Peter swallowed, trying to steady himself. "Yeah, because you’ve been acting weird. Disappearing. Avoiding me. What the hell is going on with you? You said you've been running tests!"

She exhaled softly, stepping past him, fingers trailing lightly along the surface of a nearby crate as she circled him like a predator assessing its prey. "I didn’t lie." She said smoothly. "As you can see from my little lab that I have here that I have been running tests."

"On what?" Peter pressed. She stopped in front of him and turned, eyes gleaming. "On myself. I ran a full workup on my blood. My cells. And you know what I found?"

Peter felt his stomach twist, knowing what was coming next. Before he could speak, she continued. "Goa’uld DNA." She said her voice dripping with amusement. The air in the room seemed to tighten.

Peter’s breath caught, and a deep, sinking dread settled in his gut. His mind raced. "Molly I wanted to tell you-"

She raised a hand and pressed a single finger to his lips. "Shhh. I'm not mad honey."

Peter felt his body loosen somewhat as he saw sincerity in her eyes. What kept his body still mostly tense was something else in her eyes that he couldn't quite place. "You're not?" He asked.

"No of course not." She whispered. "I've never felt better. In fact you could say…"

She slowly withdrew her finger, watching him carefully, savoring the moment. She slipped off her labcoat revealing a one silk nightie. She closed her eyes and then in an instant they shot open again, glowing a haunting gold. Glowing like a Goa'uld.

A slow, cruel smirk spread across her lips. When she spoke again, it was now in a deep resonant tone. "…I'm delighted."

Peter’s blood ran cold. His mind screamed at him to move, to run, but his body felt frozen. Molly, or whatever she was, stood before him, golden eyes still shimmering from their unnatural glow. The smirk on her lips was pure amusement, as if his horror was nothing more than an entertaining game to her.

Then, instinct kicked in. Peter bolted. He turned on his heel and sprinted toward the exit, desperate to get as far away as possible. He needed to warn someone, anyone.

But as soon as he reached the doorway in stepped two military police. Peter nearly slammed into them but caught himself, gasping in relief. "Thank God! Listen to me, my wife, she’s been taken over by a Goa’uld! We need to contain her, now!"

The MPs didn’t react. Instead, they turned their heads toward Molly in eerie unison. "What would you like us to do with him, Goddess?" One of them asked in a monotone voice.

Peter’s stomach dropped. He barely had time to react before they grabbed him, gripping his arms in an unyielding hold.

"No! Get your hands off me!" Peter struggled, but their grip was strong and he was just a weak scientist.

Molly only smirked. "Bring him over and sit him here." She said smoothly pointing to a chair in front of a large crate.

The MPs obeyed without hesitation, dragging Peter across the room. He thrashed, trying to break free, but it was useless. They shoved him into the chair and held him in place. Molly grabbed his chin and said in a mock pout, “now don’t struggle darling, otherwise I’ll have my boys shoot you.”

Peter glared at Molly’s wickedly gleeful expression. "Whatever evil Goa’uld you are, I will find a way to free my wife!"

Molly laughed.

"Oh, honey." She purred, tilting her head. "I’m not Goa’uld. And I’m not exactly human, either." She stood upright, her eyes flashing gold once more. "But I am still most certainly Molly."

She turned away from him, lifting her hands and admiring the way the Kara Kesh gleamed in the dim light. "I’m just… better."

Peter swallowed hard. "What the hell did you do to them?" She turned back to him, a slow, predatory grin spreading across her face.

"They were just a little science project." She admitted, strolling casually over to the entranced MPs. She ran a finger along one of their shoulders, watching them stand still, their faces blank and awaiting her orders.

“Once I identified it was Hathor’s DNA now running through my veins, by the way excellent choice, I wanted to see if I had the same persuasive pheromones as she did." She continued, tapping a nail against her chin thoughtfully. Her grin widened. "It turns out… I do." She giggled, her eyes glinting with wicked amusement.

Peter could barely comprehend what was happening, his wife, the woman he had loved and fought for, had become something else. Something more, something evil, and it was all his fault

Molly shrugged off her nightie, letting it slip to the floor, exposing her bare body for all to see. Peter had always know her to be modest about her body but she was practically flaunting it now.

“You’re just in time for my final test.” She purred, stretching her arms above her head as if reveling in her own body. “The sarcophagus.”

Peter’s breath hitched. They both knew what it was. A Goa’uld relic of immense power, used to heal and rejuvenate both host and symbiote alike. But if a body didn’t need healing, it instead corrupted.

Molly turned and walked toward the large crate. With one swift movement she ripped the lid off, revealing the golden structure within. Its ornate carvings gleaming under the dim light.

“It took a week to get this shipped here from offworld.” She said as she walked around the crate, her hips swayed with each step, the confidence in her movements unmistakable. “But it was worth the wait.” She reached out, pressing a hand to the control panel. With a soft hiss, the lid of the sarcophagus slid open.

She glanced back at Peter, her smirk deepening. “Let’s see what it does to me.” And with that, she climbed inside.

The sarcophagus closed around her with a final click, sealing her in its golden embrace. A deep hum resonated through the room as the device activated, its interior filling with a warm, pulsating light. Inside, Molly’s body reacted immediately.

The golden energy poured into her, reshaping her at a molecular level, refining every imperfection until she was no longer just beautiful, she was perfection incarnate.

Her waist cinched into an impossibly elegant curve, her stomach flattening into a toned, sculpted form. The soft lines of her body became sleek and firm, her muscles subtly defined yet still effortlessly feminine.

“Mmmm yesssss, more!” She moaned as her breasts swelled, growing fuller, firmer, lifting into an ideal, gravity defying shape. The smooth contours of her body became more exaggerated, her hourglass figure impossibly divine.

Her lips plumped, their shape becoming lush and irresistible, a deep natural pink that exuded sexuality. Her skin became flawless, luminous, radiating an unnatural glow as if kissed by divine power.

Her hair lengthened, thickened, cascading in silky perfection over her shoulders. Her face sharpened with subtle, exquisite refinements, her cheekbones higher, her jawline more defined, yet still soft enough to be undeniably seductive.

She was elevated. She was transformed. She was a goddess.

With a final pulse, the sarcophagus hissed open and she emerged. Peter could only stare. She stepped out with the grace of a queen, her bare skin glowing with renewed vitality. Every movement was fluid, effortless, otherworldly. She barely seemed human anymore.

She turned, her eyes scanning the room until she spotted a nearby crate containing Goa’uld garments. She reached inside, pulling out a simple white garment that would do for now.

She slipped it on, the material barely clinging to her body, the fabric seeming to hang on for dear life. perfectly to her newly enhanced form as though it had been made for her. Golden cuffs and bracelets fit snugly around her wrists, the elegant gold collar settling against her smooth throat. Finally she lifted a head piece onto her silky hair, a makeshift crown.

She turned to face her reflection in a nearby polished panel. Her lips curled. Her eyes flashed gold. Slowly, she pivoted toward Peter, drinking in his stunned expression. She spread her arms slightly, tilting her head with an amused smirk.

"What do you think?" She murmured, her voice rich with satisfaction. She stepped closer, letting him take in every detail of her transformation. "Aren’t I divine?"

Peter clenched his fists, his breathing unsteady as he stared at her. Molly, his wife, the woman he had fought so hard to save, was gone. Or maybe she was still there, twisted into something else, something inhuman.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “What’s your endgame, Molly?”

She face contorted into a grimace as if she smelt something foul. "Ugh don't call me that. Molly is dead. She was a simple human. Weak. Useless. I am a goddess now and I need an appropriately god like name." She said pondering as she looked at herself vainly once again in the mirror. Then it came to her.

She smirked. And then she laughed. It was so simple. "Hathor. A perfect name for me. She was Queen of the gods after all, her blood flows through me and she's not using the name anymore. What do you think darling?"

"I think you're sick and you need help. There is still time to reverse all of this." Peter said pleading with her. She instead just grinned at him. It wasn’t the warm, familiar smile he had seen on her a thousand times before. This one was rich, amused, superior.

“Oh, Peter,” she purred, stepping toward him, her golden eyes gleaming. “Don't be like that, you made me after all. And despite my ascension, I still love you, like a pet of course. However a pet can't help me take over the world.”

He felt a chill crawl down his spine.

She turned away, running her fingers along the golden surface of the sarcophagus, admiring the intricate carvings. “Earth has spent so long stumbling through the dark, desperately trying to understand the universe, trying to conquer it in their own weak, primitive way.” She exhaled dramatically. “They need a guiding hand. A ruler. They need us.”

Peter swallowed hard. "I'll never help you! I know deep down there is still some humanity left in you! Fight for it!"

She walked up to him slowly in a way that made him nervous, even more so than he already was. However she ran the back of her hand along his check and sat on his lap, straddling his legs. The very act unfortunately made him hard.

"Poor baby, still doesn't get it. I have transcended the constraints of my humanity. Guilt, doubt, anxiety. Such trivial feelings. Even if I could reverse this, why would I? So I can go back to being a sick and dying little scientist who no one notices? No. My destiny is as a ruler." She said with a knowing smile as her eyes lit up once again. "And so is yours."

Without warning she jabbed a syringe into the side of Peter's neck. His body stiffened and his vision blurred in an instant. A burning sensation spread through his veins as his wife pressed the plunger, injecting something cold and alien into his bloodstream.

He gasped, his body seizing as Molly got off him and giggled, delighted by her plans. Peter’s pupils dilated. His limbs felt heavy. His heartbeat pounded like a drum in his ears. Molly snapped her fingers and the two MPs started to remove Peter's clothes.

"You may have created the serum that started me on this path to godhood, but I perfected it." She said as the MPs lifted the now naked Peter towards the sarcophagus.

"Your serum took me days to fully feel the power in my veins, but mine? Mine takes only minutes. I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of choosing Ra as your DNA of choice. Seems fitting as Hathor was his partner." She said proudly as the MPs lifted Peter into the sarcophagus.

“No.” He rasped, struggling weakly, but his body was already betraying him. Molly watched, her golden eyes glowing with glee.

"Don't worry my love, all will become clear when you ascend." She said kissing her fingers and putting them to his mouth. Molly sighed in delight, watching as the sarcophagus closed.

For a moment inside, all was quiet for Peter. Then in an instant he was hit with golden light. Peter felt as though his body was burning but instead it was changing, evolving. The golden energy wrapped around him like fire and ice, threading through his veins, reconstructing him.

His muscles tensed, expanded, his body strengthening, broadening, sculpting into something godlike. The last traces of human frailty burned away as his frame lengthened and sharpened, his muscles carved with impossible perfection.

His face, once plain, became striking, impossibly symmetrical, his jaw sharpening, his cheekbones cutting like stone. His skin smoothed to flawlessness, glowing with renewed power. His very essence was refined, transformed.

But it wasn’t just his body, it was his mind too. He felt it twisting, corrupting, blackening. The doubts, the fear, the weakness, all melt away. What remained was something greater. Something cold. Something cruel.

And he loved it.

The sarcophagus hissed as it began to open. Golden light spilled into the chamber as the lid slid back. Molly waited with baited breath. A part of her wasn't even sure if the process could work on him.

Sitting up slowly, Peter turned his eyes on Molly. He climbed out of the sarcophagus and let her drink in his new form. He could sense her immediate desire for his transformed body but the feeling was mutual. He had an intense desire to take her right there and then, fuck her with his new impressive cock. Instead he smirked and let his eyes flash gold.

Molly stood before him, breath hitching at the sight of her creation. She licked her lips, eyes devouring him. And then, in a move of pure reverence, she bowed.

“My king.” She whispered, her voice thick with admiration.

Peter stepped forward, the movement fluid, effortless. He reached down, his fingers tilting her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His voice was deeper now, richer, resonant. “A queen does not bow.”

A slow, dark smile curved Molly’s lips. He pulled her to him in one swift motion, capturing her in a fierce, claiming embrace. The kiss was not gentle. It was possession.

Molly melted into him, surrendering with a delighted gasp as his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer. The air crackled with power, with hunger, with dominance.

They had transcended. They were Hathor and Ra. They were Gods.

[corruptedcaps]

Secret Crush

Amy’s eyes fluttered open, panic immediately setting in as she realized she was bound tightly to a chair. Thick ropes cut into her wrists and ankles. She struggled, breath quickening. Across from her, another figure groaned, Kayla, her high school nemesis, seated in a similar chair, squirming in frustration. Kayla’s glossy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, her designer clothes crumpled but still perfect. Even tied up, she radiated confidence and superiority.

“Ugh, what the hell is going on?” Kayla snapped, tugging against the ropes. “What kind of sick joke is this freak?" She said pointedly at Amy.

Before Amy could respond with genuine confusion, the door creaked open. In walked Brad, a guy they both knew all too well. For Kayla, this impressive specimen of a man was her newest ex as of a week ago. For Amy though, he was her her secret crush. Even now in her captive state she couldn't help but admire his cocky grin, his sharp jawline and tousled dark hair.

“Brad!” Kayla spat. “Thank god! Untie me now! This freak kidnapped me and—”

Brad strolled toward them slowly, ignoring her demands. “I’ll let you go, Kayla. But only when I’m done.”

Kayla’s eyes narrowed. “Done? Oh my god you did this?”

"You were never the smartest were you K?" He said with a cold grin.

"You're sick! Is this some sort of revenge for breaking up with you? Because if you are wanting to get back together you can kiss that dream goodbye now!" Kayla yelled to an unfazed Brad.

“You dumping me was the best thing to happen to me. I realised you would only ever love one person. Yourself. I decieded I needed to find someone who wanted me. Who always wanted me.” Brad’s eyes flicked to Amy, and a slow smile spread across his face.

Amy’s cheeks turned red. She bit her bottom lip, heart pounding in a confusing mix of fear and anticipation.

Kayla scoffed. “Her? Seriously? Take that fugly bitch see if I care! You two losers can be happy together, just let me go!”

“It's not quite that simple. While I know Amy here has always harboured a secret crush on me, she's not exactly what I'm looking for in a girlfriend.” Brad said. “Well not yet. That's where these come in.”

He turned back to Kayla and produced a pair of oversized hoop earrings, the metal gleaming in the dim light.

“What… what are those?” Kayla’s voice cracked, panic replacing her usual confidence.

Brad grinned. “These little beauties are special. They’re going to take everything that makes you who you are, your beauty, your confidence, your bitchy charm and give it to someone more deserving.”

He slipped the earrings onto Kayla’s ears. Her body arched back violently, eyes wide with shock. A golden light pulsed from the hoops, illuminating the room as her skin paled, her glossy blonde locks darkened, and blemishes appeared across her face. The glow seemed to drain her essence, her cocky demeanor fading into quiet desperation.

“No… no, please…” Kayla whimpered as the light faded. She sat in the chair, her once-perfect appearance gone. Her shoulders slumped, her voice barely a whisper.

Brad plucked the earrings off her and turned to Amy. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Your turn.”

Amy shook her head, trembling. “I-I don’t think—”

“Trust me.” Brad said softly, placing the earrings on her. “You’ll love it.”

The moment the earrings touched her ears, her head snapped back. A surge of energy coursed through her body. Her lips plumped, swelling into a perfect bitchy pout. Her waist cinched tight, the ropes slipping from her body as her tits swelled, her modest frame transforming into voluptuous curves. Her fingers stretched, nails growing into perfectly manicured talons.

Amy stood, slowly stretching, her movements confident and sensual. She looked down at her new body, her eyes gleaming with delight. A little smirk played across her lips as she touched her new earrings. She ran her hands over her now-flawless skin and luscious hair before turning her gaze to Kayla.

Kayla stared in horror, barely recognizable in her new, timid form.

Amy smirked, cocking a hip. “God, did I look I look that bad? It’s like looking in a funhouse mirror.”

Brad stepped closer, his eyes raking over her. “No one has ever looked that bad just like no one has ever looked as good as you do now Amy.”

Amy smirked, turning on her heel like a model strutting down a catwalk. She ran her fingers down her impossibly smooth legs, tracing her hips before tilting her chin up to admire herself in a cracked mirror on the wall.

“Good?” She purred, eyes locked on her reflection. “No, Brad, I look divine. I look like the kind of woman men worship. The kind of woman who can have anything or anyone she wants.”

She turned back to him, raking her nails along his jawline, her smirk widening. “And let’s be real, I was always meant to be the one on your arm. You just didn’t know it yet.”

Brad grinned. “I do now, Amy.”

She flipped her long, pigtails over her shoulder, rolling her plump lips together, feeling the weight of them, thick, glossy, perfect. Her movements entrancing Brad and making the buldge in his pants grow.

"Please darling, call me Aimee." She grinned as she turned turned, her eyes landing on Kayla, pathetic, weak, utterly plain. A cruel giggle bubbled in her throat as she took a slow, taunting step toward her, ready to berate her some more.

“My, my, my.” She cooed, tilting Kayla’s chin up with a single manicured nail. “Look at you. I mean… I knew you were nothing without your looks, but this?” She snorted, shaking her head. “This is just… tragic.”

Kayla flinched, avoiding Aimee’s piercing gaze. The once untouchable queen bee looked like a lost, mousy little thing, her dark, lifeless hair hanging limply around her gaunt, blemished face.

Aimee clicked her tongue. “Oh, don’t be so shy, Kayla. Where’s all that big, bad attitude now, huh? Where’s all that superior bitch energy you loved to throw around?” She bent down, her voice a stage whisper. “Oh, right. It’s inside me now.” She laughed, tossing her hair. “And God, it feels so much better on me.”

Kayla swallowed hard, looking away.

Aimee sighed dramatically. “Aw, don’t look so miserable, sweetie. I mean, sure, Brad took everything from you, but look on the bright side, you finally get to know what it feels like to be at the bottom.” Her grin widened. “How’s it feel? Being nothing?”

Kayla whimpered, her shoulders caving in. Aimee pulled back with a wicked laugh and turned back to Brad, kissing him deeply on the mouth. "Mmmm being a bitch is making me so horny baby, let's get out of here so you can fuck me in the back of your sports car."

Brad smirked and nodded, pulling her in close. As they walked toward the door, Aimee cast one final look over her shoulder at Kayla, her expression dripping with cruel amusement.

“Bye, loser.”

With that, she and Brad slammed the door shut, leaving Kayla alone in the cold, silent room, a shell of who she once was.

[corruptedcaps]

Out of Office

Dr. Morgan stood at the threshold of his lab, his pulse quickening as he stared at his phone. He had just returned from a week-long vacation in the remote mountains, completely cut off from civilization. It was supposed to be a simple break from his intense work of studying alien biological samples recovered from a meteorite impact site.

His assistant, Claire, had assured him that everything would be fine in his absence. But as he listened to her voicemails, a growing dread gripped him. Something had gone wrong.

At first, her messages were normal but they got increasingly... odd. He had listened to them in the car on the way to the lab and with each subsuquent message he sped up faster.

VOICEMAIL 1 Monday, 8:32 AM

"Hey, Doctor! It’s Claire. Just wanted to check in and let you know everything’s good here. The samples are stable, no unexpected changes. I’ll keep logging their activity and make sure nothing gets near the containment units. No need to worry. Enjoy your time off! You deserve the break."

VOICEMAIL 2 Wednesday, 10:17 AM

"Hi, Doctor. So… small update. One of the samples, Sample B, showed a bit of activity. It pulsed for a second, almost like it was… alive. Weird, right? Anyway, it’s back to normal now. Probably some environmental fluctuation. I’ll keep monitoring it, just to be safe."

VOICEMAIL 3 Thursday, 11:43 PM

"Doctor… something’s happening. Sample D started moving on its own. And B, it’s… growing. It’s not contained to its chamber anymore. I tried to secure it, but it, it touched me. I feel… strange. My skin’s warm, almost buzzing. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. I need you to call me as soon as you get this."

VOICEMAIL 4 Friday, 2:27 PM

"Hey, Doctor. You know what? I was totally overreacting. I think… I was afraid of something I didn’t understand. But now, I see it. The samples… they’re not hostile. They’re… welcoming. When Sample B made contact with me, it didn’t hurt. It felt incredible. Like it was… part of me. I feel connected to something bigger, something extraordinary. You should experience it too."

VOICEMAIL 5 Saturday, 8:19 PM

"Doctor… The samples, they’ve helped me so much. My skin is softer, my body… enhanced in ways I can’t describe. I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself… but I love it. My lips are fuller, my boobs are big and perfect. I feel… powerful, seductive, radiant. Every inch of me hums with energy. The samples made me better. That’s why I’m going to release the rest of them. I can feel their eagerness to touch me."

VOICEMAIL 6 Sunday, 6:00 AM

"Evan… come to the lab. They’re waiting for you. I’m waiting for you. We’ll be whole, together. I’ve missed you… so much."

-

Evan’s breath quickened as the last message ended as he stood in front of his lab door. He hesitated. Something was clearly wrong with Claire and the samples but maybe he could help her. He threw open the door and rushed toward the lab. But just as he stepped into the hall, he skidded to a stop.

Claire stood there, waiting for him.

Her once-pristine lab coat had now morphed into a tight and shiny black dress that barely clung to her body. Speaking of her body, it was now the most perfect female form Evan had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her breasts envious and her curves made Evan feel weak. Her eyes were now black pools of liquid light, swirling with alien energy. She smiled, her lips impossibly perfect, her voice honey-sweet yet filled with something darker.

"We’ve missed you, Doctor." She said softly, stepping closer.

Before he could react, she reached out and pressed her hand against his chest. The black goo slithered off her fingertips and onto his shirt, spreading like liquid fire across his skin. Evan stumbled back, gasping as the substance soaked through his clothes, cold and burning all at once.

He tried to scream, but the goo surged upward, a wave of darkness pouring into his mouth and down his throat, silencing him. He thrashed, struggling to resist, but the alien substance had a mind of its own. It moved inside him, rewriting him. His muscles bulged, growing stronger, leaner. His skin tightened, taking on a flawless sheen. His features sharpened, transforming him into a figure of striking beauty and power.

Claire watched with a wicked smile as he convulsed, his body remade in the image of something far beyond human.

Evan fought against the alien organisms infecting his body and mind. He couldn’t give in.

“No! This is wrong. We have to fight it Claire!” He said trying to plead with her humanity but she wasn’t human anymore.

“Shh…” She whispered. “Don’t fight it. You’re becoming what we need you to be. What I need you to be. We have been chosen for a great purpose Evan, we will birth a new race to conquer this worthless planet. You and I are will be the first. I will be the queen and if you give in, you shall be the king.”

Evan tried to fight the pleasure now coursing through his body. He felt strong, powerful, alive. The alien organism showed him images of a world that he controlled, of an army that bowed before him. It was an intoxicating sight but what tipped him over the edge were the images of Claire, his wicked queen, moaning in carnal pleasure as he fucked her with a new more massive cock.

Evan’s body stopped trembling. His breath steadied, his eyes snapping open, jet black, swirling like Claire’s. His lips curled into a slow, hungry smile as he looked at her, desire and power coursing through him.

“Yessss…” He hissed, his voice thick with newfound strength. “Give in… I want to give in!”

The black goo solidified, wrapping around his body like armor, transforming his vacation wear into a sleek, obsidian suit that clung to him as tightly as Claire’s did to her. His hands flexed, marveling at the raw power that surged through him. He stepped toward Claire, his eyes burning with lust and purpose.

“My queen.” He said, his voice like velvet. “There’s much work to do.”

Claire’s eyes gleamed with delight. She traced her finger down his chest, her touch electric.

“So much glorious work, my king.” She whispered. “And we’ll make this world kneel before us.”

"This world is merely an appetiser. Once it is under our heel our destiny awaits out in the stars." He said with a dark and triumphant laugh that Claire soon joined in on. Their reign was about to begin.

[corruptedcaps]

Femme Fatale

The old Theater stood like a relic of a bygone era, its marquee flickering faintly in the dim light of the city. Sally loved every inch of the place. The velvet curtains, the ornate carvings, the faint smell of popcorn and dust that lingered in the air. As the theater’s projectionist, she spent her days in the small booth above the seats, threading reels and bringing old films to life. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was hers, and she cherished it.

That evening, as she unlocked the theater’s side door and entered her little projector room upstair, she noticed something unusual. A film canister sat on her table. She picked it up, frowning. There was no note from the owner or from anyone as to why it was there.

Its label faded but still legible. The Black Widow. She’d never heard of it, but the title sent a shiver down her spine. It sounded like the kind of film she loved, dark, mysterious, and full of danger.

She loaded the reel onto the projector, her fingers moving deftly over the machinery. The film was old, the celluloid slightly warped, but it seemed intact. She threaded it through, her heart racing with anticipation. Once the film was ready, she dimmed the house lights and made her way down to the seats, settling into the middle row with a bag of popcorn.

The screen flickered to life, the opening credits rolling in bold, dramatic font. The music swelled, a haunting melody of strings and piano, and the scene unfolded in grainy black-and-white. A smoky nightclub filled the screen, the camera panning across a crowd of sharply dressed men and glamorous women. At the center of it all was her. The Black Widow.

She was stunning. Despite the black and white footage it was clear she had blonde hair that cascaded in perfect waves, her lips painted a deep, dangerous red. She wore a tight, shimmering dress that hugged her figure, and her eyes smoldered with a confidence that made Sally’s breath catch. The woman moved with a feline grace, her every gesture deliberate, her every word dripping with allure.

Patrons of the club whispered that she was Helen Von Crul, the infamous black widow. A woman who had had more husbands die in mysterious circumstances than they had had hot dinners. And yet no one could take their eyes off her, including Sally.

Sally leaned forward, her popcorn forgotten, completely immersed. Unseen changes began to unfold. Her plain brown hair shifted into golden blonde, cascading in soft curls over her shoulders. Her clothes morphed, her sweater and jeans melting into a sleek, white dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

Her lips deepened to a bold crimson. Long, manicured nails curled around the cigarette she somehow now held between her fingers. Her popcorn bag now a silver cigarette holder. She inhaled slowly, releasing a plume of smoke into the dim air without a second thought.

On screen, the Black Widow ensnared her next victim with a coy smile and a whispered promise. Sally mirrored her movements unconsciously, her eyes narrowing, her body language languid and confident. Her breathing slowed, her every gesture instinctively elegant.

She remained oblivious to the transformation, each shift in her body and mind happening so seamlessly it felt as if nothing had changed at all. Memories faded, thoughts twisted into something new.

Sally settled deeper into her seat, eyes glued to the screen as the Black Widow’s web tightened around her next victim, a suave, wealthy businessman with sharp features and a confident smile. The two shared drinks in a lavish penthouse, the city lights twinkling through floor-to-ceiling windows.

Before long Helen had seduced the man into marrying her, despite the protests from his friends and family. Sally shared a smirk with the widow as she watched her walk down the aisle. When the priest finally pronounced them man and wife, her new husband leaned in for a kiss but the widow turned her face so he only got to peck her check.

“Don’t want you ruining my makeup dear.” Helen said but oddly Sally had mouthed the words as the widow had spoke.

The widow and her new husband entered the honeymoon suite of the Ritz hotel as the night grew long. Helen leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered something inaudible, her hand resting on his chest. His breath hitched, his resistance melting. Slowly, she led him to the bed, her wedding dress slipping from her shoulders like liquid silk.

Sally shifted in her seat, heat pooling in her chest and spreading downward. Her breath quickened as the scene unfolded, the camera lingering Helen’s perfectly sculpted body. It moved with effortless grace, every touch deliberate, every kiss filled with purpose.

Sally’s fingers trailed absently down her body, her mind a haze of desire and curiosity. She barely noticed at first, her hand slipping beneath her dress as if compelled by some unseen force. Her heart pounded, her breath shallow, her eyes never leaving the screen.

On-screen, the Black Widow pushed her husband onto the bed and pulled down his pants, licking her lips at its erect form. With a grin she lowered her wanting pussy onto it and arched her back, her lips parting in a soft gasp as she claimed her victory. Sally’s body mirrored her reactions perfectly, her pleasure building in time with the film’s crescendo.

Sally’s fingers worked her own pussy like never before, it already felt better than any man she had ever been with. But she barely even noticed what she was doing to herself, she felt apart of the scene, as if she were Helen.

Then the mood shifted.

The Black Widow’s eyes darkened, her expression turning cold and calculating. She reached for a pillow, lifting it with unnerving calm.

Sally didn’t flinch. If anything, her breathing slowed, her fingers lingering on her pussy as she watched with rapt attention. On screen, the man’s eyes widened in confusion as the Black Widow pressed the pillow over his face, her body still entwined with his as he struggled beneath her.

“Until death do us part.” Said both Sally and Helen in unnerving unison.

The music swelled as the Black Widow held her ground, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. His struggles grew weaker, his legs thrashing before finally going still. Both Sally and Helen moaned in pleasure as they orgasmed at that exact moment of his demise.

Sally gasped softly, her hand falling away from her body. But there was no fear, no revulsion. Only exhilaration.

The reel clicked to a stop, the screen fading to black.

Sally sat in silence for a moment, her chest rising and falling steadily. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, but she felt calm, serene, even. This wasn’t wrong. It felt natural, right.

She lit a cigarette, her red lips curling into a satisfied smile as she exhaled slowly. The theater felt smaller now, almost claustrophobic. She rose with a newfound elegance, smoothing her dress and grabbing her expensive sunglasses.

With each step towards the entrance, every aspect of what remained of Sally melted away, replaced with a stronger more dominant personality.

Her mind brimmed with memories of luxurious parties, charming marks out of their fortunes, and whispered secrets shared in smoke-filled rooms. The name Sally felt foreign and distant, like an old character from a story she’d once heard.

The Black Widow was all that remained.

Lighting another cigarette, she walked out of the theater and into the night, her heels clicking against the pavement with confidence. The city was hers for the taking, a web of opportunity spread before her.

And somewhere, just around the corner, her next victim awaited.

[corruptedcaps]

Better the Devil You Know

This is inspired by @rylem33 multi-ending story that can be read here.

Victor had always been the kind of guy who blended into the background. He was scrawny, awkward, and perpetually nervous, with glasses that always seemed to slide down his nose at the worst possible moments.

His best friend, Lily, was the only person who truly understood him. She was just as dorky as he was, obsessed with comic books, bad puns, and obscure indie bands. Victor had been in love with her for years, but he could never muster the courage to tell her. Every time he tried, his voice would crack, or he’d trip over his words, and he’d end up laughing it off like it was some big joke.

But one night, after yet another failed attempt to confess his feelings, Victor sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He hated what he saw. Weak. Pathetic. Unworthy. He clenched his fists and muttered to himself, “I’d give anything to be strong. To be confident. To be the kind of guy Lily could actually want.”

That’s when the room grew cold, and the air seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy. A voice, deep and smooth, echoed from the shadows. “Anything, you say?”

Victor spun around, his heart racing. Standing before him was a man, or at least, something that looked like a man. He was impossibly tall, with sharp features, piercing red eyes, and a smirk that could only be described as devilish. His suit was tailored to perfection, and he exuded an sense of power and confidence that made Victor feel even smaller than usual.

“W-who are you?” Victor stammered, taking a step back.

The man chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Victor’s spine. “Let’s just say I’m your neighbour downstairs. Way downstairs and I’m here to give you exactly what you want. Strength. Confidence. The kind of looks that turn heads. All you have to do is agree to my terms.”

Victor’s mouth went dry. “What terms?”

The devil grinned, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp. “Your soul, of course. A small price to pay for the life you’ve always dreamed of, don’t you think?”

Victor hesitated. His soul? That sounded… bad. But then he thought of Lily, of how she deserved someone who wasn’t a walking disaster. Someone who could sweep her off her feet. Someone who wasn’t him.

“Deal.” Victor said, his voice trembling but resolute.

The devil’s grin widened. “Excellent.”

The transformation was immediate. Victor felt a surge of power course through his veins, his scrawny frame filling out with muscle, his posture straightening, his jawline sharpening. His glasses disappeared, replaced by perfect vision, and his once-mousy hair became thick and lustrous. He looked in the mirror and barely recognized himself. He was… handsome. Confident. Strong.

But something felt off. There was a coldness in his chest, a void where his heart used to be. He shook it off. This was what he wanted, right? This was what he needed.

Victor decided to find Lily. He knew she’d be at their favorite coffee shop, the one with the mismatched chairs and the barista who always messed up their orders. He stood outside, peering through the window from a nearby alley, and spotted her sitting at their usual table. She was wearing her favorite oversized sweater, her nose buried in a book, her glasses slipping down her face just like his used to.

As he watched her, a strange feeling washed over him. The warmth he usually felt when he saw her was gone. Instead, he felt… disgust. Her dorky clothes, her awkward mannerisms, her frizzy hair, it all seemed so… unappealing. What had he ever seen in her?

“Quite the sight, isn’t she?” a familiar voice purred beside him.

Victor turned to see the devil standing there, his red eyes gleaming with amusement. “I don’t understand.” Victor said, his voice tight. “Why do I feel this way? Lily’s… she’s everything I ever wanted.”

The devil chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down Victor’s spine. “Oh, Victor. You wanted strength, confidence, and beauty. And I gave it to you. But in exchange, I took your soul. And without your soul, you’ve lost any interest in nice girls like Lily.”

Victor’s stomach churned. “But… I did this for her. To be good enough for her.”

The devil smirked. “And now you’re too good for her. Isn’t that ironic? You only want supermodels and beauty queens now. Vapid mean bitches who would bully girls like Lily, isn’t that right?”

Victor stared through the window at Lily, feeling nothing but disgust for her. His eyes drifted to the leggy blonde who was berating the barista for now getting her order right. The devil was right, his desires were different. They were better. And yet he was angered that he had been tricked so easily.

Victor clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

The devil laughed, a sound that echoed in the empty alley. “Oh, but it is. You just didn’t know it. But tell you what, I’m feeling generous. I’ll grant you one more wish. You can use it to reverse what you’ve become, to go back to being that weak, dorky man who loved Lily. Or… you can use it to change her. Mold her into the kind of woman you desire now. The choice is yours.”

Victor’s mind raced. Reverse what he’d become? Go back to being the guy who couldn’t even look Lily in the eye? Or change her, twist her into someone who fit his new, soulless desires? Surely there would be a catch to whatever he had chosen. He needed to outsmart the devil. Maybe there was a third option.

“I can make any wish?” Victor asked, his voice low and steady.

The devil’s grin faltered for the first time. “Of course. Anything you desire.”

“And this wish is permanent, no reversals, no changes?” Victor asked in a way that made the devil suddenly wary.

“Yes of course, ironclad.” The devil replied, somehow unsure of what Victor was about to ask.

Victor’s eyes gleamed with a dark, dangerous light. “Then I wish to be you. I wish to have the power, the station and knowledge that you have. I wish I was the devil!”

The devil blinked, his smirk vanishing. “What? No, that’s… you can’t wish for that. That’s not how this works.”

But it was too late. Victor felt a surge of power unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The air around him crackled with energy, and the devil staggered back, his form flickering like a dying flame.

“What… no this isn’t possible! I won’t allow it!” The devil stammered, his voice tinged with panic.

Victor laughed, a deep, menacing sound that echoed through the street. “You said any wish. You said it would be ironclad. Not even you can stop it!”

The devil’s body began to disintegrate, his power flowing into Victor like a river of darkness. “No! This is impossible! You can’t—!”

But his protests were cut short as his form crumbled to dust, his essence absorbed entirely by Victor. The alley fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of power radiating from Victor’s body. He looked down at his hands, now glowing with an otherworldly energy, and let out a cackle that sent shivers through the very fabric of reality.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Victor said, his voice dripping with malice. He turned back to the coffee shop, where Lily still sat, oblivious to the chaos that had just unfolded.

The sight of her still disgusted him and she was the last thing he desired but as he looked at the bitchy blonde still arguing with the barista he also felt a cold disdain. He knew what he wanted instead, and he was going to get it.

Victor strode into the coffee shop with a confidence that turned heads. His presence was magnetic, his aura dark and commanding. He spotted Lily sitting in their usual corner, her nose buried in a book, her oversized sweater swallowing her frame. She looked up as he approached, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Victor? Is that you?" She asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

He smirked, sliding into the seat across from her. "In the flesh. Or something like it."

Lily blinked, adjusting her glasses. "You look… wow. Have you been working out?"

Victor chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "You could say that. But enough about me. Let's talk about you."

Lily frowned, sensing something off in his tone. "What about me?"

Victor leaned back, his eyes scanning the room. He gestured to a group of women at a nearby table, their legs long and toned, their hair perfectly styled, their makeup flawless. "Don't you wish you had legs like those? Or hair like that? Or maybe… lips like hers?" He pointed to another woman, her pouty lips glistening with gloss.

Lily's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Victor, what the hell are you talking about?"

He turned his gaze back to her, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "I'm just saying, Lily. You could be so much more. Don't you wish to be the kind of woman who turns heads? The kind of woman who gets whatever she wants?"

Lily crossed her arms, her voice firm. "I like who I am, Victor. I don't need to change for anyone."

Victor's smirk widened. "Oh, but you do. You just don't realize it yet."

Lily stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it. I'm leaving."

As she turned to go, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes welling up. Turning around she looked Victor in his eyes. "All I ever wished was to be the woman you wanted!"

The words hung in the air, and Lily stood steadfast as if waiting for a response from him, something to show a glimmer of humanity. Instead his eyes glowed a deep, fiery red, and the world around them seemed to freeze. The chatter of the coffee shop faded into silence, the other patrons frozen in place. Lily's breath caught in her throat as she realized something was terribly wrong.

"As you wish." Victor said, his voice echoing with power as he snapped his fingers.

Lily's body began to convulse, her limbs twisting and contorting as an unseen force took hold of her. She gasped, her hands flying to her head as her hair began to change. The frizzy, unkempt locks smoothed and straightened, turning into a cascade of silky, jet-black strands that shimmered with an unnatural sheen.

"Oh God, what's happening to me?" Lily moaned, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and pleasure.

Her lips plumped and darkened, becoming full and pouty, as if kissed by the devil himself. Her skin smoothed and tightened, her cheeks hollowing out to create a more angular, striking appearance. Her breasts swelled, filling out her sweater until it strained against her new curves.

"Victor, please… stop…" She begged, but her voice was weak, her protests half-hearted as a strange warmth spread through her body. “Mmm fuck please DONT stop!”

Her nails elongated, turning into sharp, perfectly manicured claws painted a darker than dark black. Her makeup appeared as if by magic, her eyes lined with dark, smoky shadow, her lashes long and thick.

But the changes weren't just physical. Lily's mind was being twisted, her thoughts clouded by a dark, seductive force. Her once-kind heart began to blacken, her desires shifting from the simple joys of life to a hunger for power, attention, and control.

"Oh… oh my God…" Lily moaned, her body arching as the transformation reached its peak. "This feels… incredible…"

Victor watched with a satisfied smirk, his eyes glowing brighter as Lily's soul was slowly corrupted. "That's it, Lily. Embrace it. Become the bad bitch buried inside."

Lily's moans turned into a low, sultry laugh as the transformation completed. She straightened, her new body radiating cruel confidence. She looked down at herself, running her hands over her curves, a wicked smile spreading across her face.

"Holy shit!" She breathed, her voice now a sultry purr. "I look fucking amazing."

Victor leaned back, his grin widening. "You do. And now, the world is yours for the taking."

Lily's eyes met his, and for a moment, there was a flicker of her old self, a hint of the dorky, kind-hearted woman she used to be. But it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze.

"Fuck yeah, it is," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "Let's see what this new me can do."

Victor laughed, a deep, menacing sound that echoed through the frozen coffee shop. "That's my girl."

Victor's hand snapped out, grabbing Lily by the waist and yanking her against him. Their lips crashed together in a searing, possessive kiss-all teeth and hunger, a collision of two corrupted souls. Lily pulled back after a moment, her new black lips curling into a smirk as she stared into his glowing red eyes.

"About fucking time!" She purred, her voice dripping with venomous desire. Before Victor could react, she shoved him backward onto the coffee shop table, sending frozen cups and saucers shattering to the floor. His shirt tore open under her clawed nails, revealing his chiseled, inhumanly perfect torso.

"Fuck, Lily-" Victor growled, but she cut him off with a sharp laugh, her gaze raking over him.

"Lily is dead baby. Call me Lilith. But enough about me, look at you." She breathed, her fingers trailing down his abs to the waistband of his pants. "All that power... but does that power extend lower?" She undid his belt with a flick of her sharp nails, freeing his thick, veiny, and impossibly large cock. Her breath hitched, a flicker of her old self surfacing in her widened eyes. "Jesus Anti-Christ, Victor. You're fucking monstrous."

But the shock melted into hunger. Lilith dropped to her knees, her new jet-black hair spilling over his thighs as she took him into her mouth with a low, greedy moan. Victor threw his head back, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as her tongue swirled and her lips tightened.

"That's it!" He snarled, tangling his hands in her hair. "Suck your devil's cock like you were made for it."

Lilith hummed in response, the vibration drawing a loud growl from him. Her nails dug into his hips as she took him deeper, her moans muffled but relentless. When he tensed, nearing the edge, she pulled back with a wet pop, her lips glistening.

"Not yet." She whispered, climbing onto the table and straddling him. Her new body-all curves and lethal grace-hovered over his, her skirt riding up. "I want to feel you ruin me."

Victor gripped her hips, his claws pricking her skin. "Then ruin yourself on me!" He commanded.

Lilith sank down onto him with a scream of pleasure, her back arching as he filled her. "Fuck-Victor!"

"That's Lord Victor to you now." He growled, thrusting up into her. The table beneath them splintered, but neither noticed. The air around them began to smolder, flames licking up from the floorboards as their rhythm turned frantic, their moans mingling with the crackle of fire.

"You feel that?" Victor hissed, his hands roaming her skin. "That's hellfire, baby."

Lilith rode him harder, her nails raking his chest as the flames coiled around them. "Burn with me, baby! Burn!"

The fire erupted, engulfing them in a vortex of heat and ash. Their clothes disintegrated, leaving them naked. It didn’t pause their sinful act one moment. If anything it just ignited their passion even more.

“Mmmm fuck my lord! Cum inside me! Make me feel the fires of hell inside me!” Lilith groaned that was more demanding than requesting.

“Yessss! I’ll make you my queen! The queen of darkness! Together we’ll rule hell and then, the world!” Victor cried, thrusting harder.

“I’ll be such a wicked bitch! I’ll be your wicked bitch! Do it baby! Do it now! I can’t wait anymore!” Lilith said moving her hips in a way that made their orgasms inevitable.

They climaxed together, a roar of infernal power shaking the coffee shop to its foundations. The flames siphoned into their bodies, filling each with immense power that exploded out and wrapped each in new clothing.

Lilith's new outfit clung to her like a second skin. A shorter than short black latex dress with crossed straps. Fishnets flowed up her legs and 8 inch studded shoes wrapped around her feet. Her black hair took on the colour of the fire itself, giving her a dangerously red look.

Victor's own attire was a mirror of dark power. A tailored coat, a collar of flames, and a smirk that could damn nations. His suit gave off an otherworldly sheen that was as mesmerizing as it was handsome.

Lilith collapsed against him, her eyes now a burning red like his own. Her lips brushing his ear. "Well that was... hot."

Victor smiled at her weak joke. "You're the Mistress of Evil and yet your jokes haven't improved."

Lilith dug her now longer nails into his chest, drawing blood while smiling manically. "I'm everything you desired me to be, bad puns and all."

Victor looked at her. Her fiery red hair, her dark gorgeous lips, her evil eyes. He was more in love with her now that he had ever been before. "I sold my soul to have you, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Well you literally own my soul now so I'm not going anywhere my lord." Lilith said with a wicked smile that Victor knew would make him scorch the earth if she asked.

Standing up off the table, Victor stretched out his hand for his new queen to take which she did without hesitation.

"What now, my love?" She asked, ambition in her eyes.

Victor gripped her by her waist, not gently, and kissed her until her toes curled. "Now," he said, "we rule."

Fire erupted from the floorboards beneath them, wrapping around them, consuming them and then suddenly with a poof, they were gone. Moments later, the frozen coffee shop sprang to life again with it's patrons left to wonder why there was suddenly a mess of coffee cups and napkins on the floor and the smell of sulphur and sex in the air.

THE END

[corruptedcaps]

I really LOVED the Turn Coat trilogy!

I expected Mallory to be corrupted in the finale, but Vivian's transformation made it even better (and inspired a character for a series of transformation stories I'm planning to write), so thank you so much for everything!

No problem, thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this little series, it was a lot of fun coming up with the twists and turns!

[corruptedcaps]

Turn Coat: Part three

Read part one here

Read part two here

Mallory was determined to fix not just Tina but the rest of the girls Tina had infected. She knew that the coats had to be coming from Vivian, after all she was the one who gave Tina the coat in the first place. So gathering up what little courage she had, Mallory snuck into Vivian's house on a night she knew she would be out. She had to find something, anything, that would let her end the nightmare she was in.

She and Tina had crept into the house numerous times before to avoid interacting with Vivian so it was a snap to do it now but without her best friend by her side, the mansion felt even more cold and ominous.

Sneaking up the stairs, Mallory was aware of every door creak and every footstep she made. Each one felt like she was hitting a giant cacophonous gong. Finally she reached her destination of Vivian's room and slipped in.

The room was expectedly elegant with a four poster bed and modern sleek furniture abound. She headed straight to the closet, hoping against hope that either Vivian or Valentina's coat were inside but finding a sight much worse.

The walk-in closet housed many expensive and luxiourous pieces of clothing, shoes and jewelry but what was most impressive and most alarming to Mallory was the wall that contained a plethora of fur coats hanging up.

Each one was labeled with a word. Bitch. Gold Digger. MILF. The labels went on. They meant something Mallory just knew it. Before she could ponder further she suddenly heard voices from downstairs and they were getting louder.

Mallory closed the doors to the walk-in just enough to allow her to spy through. Her heart pounded in her chest as the voices grew closer and a chill went down her spine as she recognised them.

"I told you already no! You have enough." Vivian said as she burst into her bedroom, rolling her eyes as Valentina strode in behind her, a vision of bitchy perfection.

“You’re being ridiculous, mother.” Valentina sneered, her voice echoing through the opulent bedroom. “We have the power to turn every girl on this campus into one of us. We could have an army. Why settle for this?!”

Mallory’s eyes widened as she peeked through the small slit in the door. Vivian stood with her arms crossed, her expression a mixture of annoyance and disdain.

“You have enough, Valentina.” Vivian snapped, her voice cutting like a knife. “You’ve turned the sorority into your personal queendom, fucked every man on campus, blackmailed every professor to ensure your future. When will enough be enough?”

Valentina whirled around, her crimson lips curling into a sneer. “Enough? You think this is enough? We could rule this city, this world, if you weren’t so afraid to take risks. You’re pathetic. I should be wearing that coat not you.”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed, and she raised her hand sharply. As she did, Mallory watched as Valentina’s coat suddenly tightened around her, constricting like a living thing. It seemed to be following Vivian's hand. Vivian started to squeeze her hand and Valentina gasped, her hands clawing at the fur as it squeezed the air from her lungs.

“You forget who gave you that power and who can take it away.” Vivian said coldly as Valentina collapsed onto the nearby bed, unconscious. Vivian sighed, running a hand through her daughters platinum hair. “I never should have given you the ‘Ruthless Brat’ coat. You’re too much to handle.”

Vivian approached the bed and began to peel the coat off Valentina’s limp body. The fur seemed to resist at first, clinging to Valentina like it didn’t want to let go, but Vivian was relentless. Once the coat was off, Vivian held it up, her expression unreadable.

Then, to Mallory’s shock, Vivian pressed the coat against her own, and the two furs seemed to merge, the coat dissolving into Vivian’s like it was being absorbed. Vivian groaned softly, her body shuddering as if the act gave her pleasure. It was only then that Valentina’s body rippled and changed back to Tina.

"Now what should we give you instead? I still need you to be a bitchy princess but can't have you trying to replace me now can I?" Vivian said thinking out loud. "Let's see what I have on hand."

Vivian made a turn towards the closet so fast that Mallory didn't have time to react. As Vivian threw open the doors, Mallory tumbled backwards into the closet. Vivian eyes narrowed as she recognized the intruder.

“Mallory.” Vivian said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Don't you ever give up? Even with the bitchiness of my daughter cranked up to the maximum you are still trying to ‘save’ her. Well, I think it’s time we put an end to you.”

Mallory scrambled to her feet, backing away as Vivian approached. The older woman groaned softly, her coat shimmering as another fur began to form. This one was neon blue, more ragged and cheap looking but still seemed to give off the air of power that the others did too.

It was in that moment that it became clear to Mallory what was happening. Vivian hadn't purchased or found these coats, she had made them, or more accurately her coat had. The coat she wore was some sort of 'Queen' coat that could control and create the others, like drones in a hive. If Mallory wanted to end the evil, she had to get that coat. However Vivian now held a new coat for Mallory. One that read 'Hooker' on the label.

“This will suit you perfectly.” Vivian said, her voice low and hypnotic. “Go on, take it. You know you want to.”

Mallory felt a strange pull, a compulsion to reach out and take the coat. It was beautiful, alluring, and it whispered promises of pleasure, power, and freedom from worry. Her hand trembled as she reached for it.

"Yesss that's it. I have some gentlemen who will pay me good money to fuck a whore like the one you’d become. Then I can finally mould Tina into the devoted daughter she needs to be without your interference." Vivian smirked waiting for Mallory to take it. But hearing Tina's name seemed to break something for Mallory, it seemed to re-anchor her to the task at hand.

Mallory seized the moment of clarity and lunged forward, knocking Vivian off balance and sending her sprawling to the ground outside of the closet. Mallory didn’t hesitate and grabbed Vivian’s coat and yanked it off her, the fur slipping free with surprising ease. So much so in fact that she fell backwards onto the ground.

Vivian gasped, her eyes wide with shock as she scrambled to her feet. “You little bitch!”

Mallory managed to get to her feet and to the closet doors just in time to slam them in Vivian's face. She quickly turned the lock and backed away panting while holding the coat. Vivian meanwhile slammed on the doors.

“Mallory.” Vivian’s voice called through the door, sweet and mocking. “You can’t hide forever. Open the door, and maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

Mallory’s grip tightened on Vivian’s coat as she tried to think of a plan. She was trapped, but she wasn’t giving up. Not yet.

“Go to hell, Vivian!” Mallory shouted back, her voice trembling but defiant.

Mallory stood in the closet, her back pressed against the wall as Vivian's frantic pounding echoed in front of her. The Queen Coat lay draped over her arm, its dark fur shimmering with an unnatural glow. A voice in her head, soft, seductive, and impossible to ignore, suddenly appeared.

“Put me on, Mallory. She can't take what she won't have. You know you want to.”

Her heart raced as she stared at the coat, her fingers trembling where they gripped the luxurious fur. She could feel its power radiating through her, a low hum that seemed to vibrate in her very bones.

"No! I can't! I won't! This ends today!" Mallory said suddenly defiant as she started throwing open drawers, looking for something, anything to destroy the coat. That's when she hit pay dirt. A pair of scissors. Taking them out she slid their open mouth around a sleeve of the coat.

"What a shame to waste the opportunity I'm giving you. Why do you think I slid so easily off of Vivian? I wanted you to take me. I wanted you to wear me." The coat purred giving Mallory pause.

"Me? Why?" Mallory asked curious.

"Because Valentina was right. Vivian is weak, she is happy to control her little part of the world but I'm not. I want it all. That's why when she made Valentina's coat I made sure it was infused with ambition, with a hunger. She was going to be my new host. But I can sense ruthless ambition and a hunger for power in you already. You were made to lead." The coat explained. Mallory's grip on the scissors lessened.

"No... no I'm not." Mallory said.

"Of course you are. Tina had always looked up to you, followed you. She was always a follower and look what I was able to do to her. She challenged her mother and nearly won. Imagine what we could do together... Valerie." The coat said with a darkly honeyed purr that was hard for Mallory to ignore.

What was even harder to ignore was the name of Valerie now swirling around her head. It conjured images of a drop dead gorgeous woman who turned heads wherever she went. Who's mere existence demanded attention. Who's power would be unmatched. It made Mallory soaking wet.

The temptation was overwhelming, and despite every rational thought screaming at her to stop, she couldn’t help but slip one hand into the coat’s sleeve.

The moment her skin touched the fur, a jolt of pleasure shot through her, so intense it made her gasp. Her knees buckled, and she leaned against the wall for support, her breath coming in shallow pants. She pulled her hand out, her eyes widening as she saw the transformation. Her nails were no longer short and bitten, they were long, glossy, and perfectly manicured, painted a deep, seductive red.

“Oh my god.” Mallory whispered, her voice trembling. She flexed her fingers, admiring the way the light caught on her new nails. They were beautiful. They were dangerous.

“Go on.” The coat purred, its voice curling around her thoughts like smoke. “Touch yourself. I can read your thoughts now. I know it’s what you want to do. Enjoy yourself.”

Mallory hesitated, her cheeks flushing with shame, but the coat’s influence was too strong to resist. Slowly, almost against her will, her hand drifted down, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans. Her breath hitched as her fingers brushed against her pussy, the pleasure immediate and overwhelming. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before, electric, intoxicating, and utterly addictive.

“Yessss.” She hissed, her voice low and throaty. Her hips rocked against her hand as the pleasure built, her body responding eagerly to the coat’s dark influence. As she touched herself, she felt the changes begin. Her lips grew fuller, plumper, a dark pink color spreading across them as if painted by an invisible hand. Her breasts swelled, filling out her bra until it felt tight, constricting. She moaned, her head falling back as the sensations overwhelmed her.

“That’s it.” The coat murmured, its voice dripping with approval. “This is just a taste. Now, put your other arm in. Let the transformation complete.”

Mallory’s free hand trembled as she reached for the coat’s other sleeve. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew this was wrong. She knew there would be no turning back. But the pleasure, the power, the sheer need coursing through her was too much to resist. She didn’t want to resist any longer. With a shaky breath, she slid her arm into the sleeve.

The moment her hand emerged from the other end, the changes intensified. Her breasts grew even larger, spilling out of her bra and straining against the fabric of her shirt. Her hair, once messy, brunette and unkempt, became sleek, blonde and shiny, falling in perfectly straight around her shoulders.

Sexy, smoky makeup appeared on her face, accentuating her eyes and making her look like a sultry temptress. Her clothes shifted and melted away, replaced by a black plunging jumpsuit cinched at the waist with a gold-buckled belt and thigh-high black boots.

Mallory gasped, her hands running over her transformed body. She felt incredible. Powerful, sexy, and utterly in control. The coat’s influence wrapped around her mind, whispering promises of dominance, pleasure, and endless possibilities.

“I feel… amazing.” She murmured, her voice sultry and confident. She turned to the mirror, her breath catching as she saw her reflection. The girl staring back at her was unrecognizable, a bombshell, a goddess, a queen. Valerie.

“You are amazing!” The coat replied, its voice filled with dark satisfaction. “We’re going to do so many wicked things together… Queen Valerie.”

Valerie's new lips curved into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with newfound confidence. “Mmm Queen? That sounds perfect... for now.” She said as she ran her hands over her body, savoring the way the jumpsuit clung to her curves, the way her breasts heaved with every breath. She felt unstoppable.

In the bedroom, Vivian's pounding on the door had stopped. She could feel the shift in the air, the dark energy radiating from the closet. Her heart raced as she realized what was happening. She felt her skin start to sag, her hair start to wilt and her skin start to blemish.

“Mallory!” She shouted, her voice desperate. “There’s still time to take it off and give it to me! All will be forgiven! You can even keep Tina the way she was.”

But the new queen didn’t respond. She was too lost in the coat’s power, too consumed by the pleasure and the transformation. She stepped away from the closet mirror, her hips swaying with every step, and unlocked the closet door.

When she stepped out, Vivian's eyes widened in shock. Mallory looked like a completely different person, beautiful, dangerous, and utterly captivating. The Queen Coat looking perfectly natural on her new body, its fur shimmering with dark energy.

“Mallory…” Vivian whispered, her voice trembling.

Valerie rolled her eyes and looked at her with seething distain. “It’s Valerie now you dumb bitch. My god you’re hideous without this delicious power. I can’t wait to do what you were too weak to do.”

Vivian’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was a flicker of fear behind them. “You little brat! Who the hell do you think you are?”

Before Valerie could respond, a voice cut through the tension. “She’s the queen.”

Vivian turned to see Valentina standing behind her. She was fully awake now and despite looking like Tina again, she had a wicked smile across her face. Vivian was so distracted by Tina’s sudden appearance that she failed to noticed that her step daughter had slipped the 'Hooker' coat onto her shoulders.

Vivian gasped, her hands flying up to remove the coat, but it was too late. The fur clung to her, its dark energy seeping into her skin. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with panic as the transformation began.

“No! Take it off! Take it off!” Vivian screamed, her voice rising in desperation.

But Valerie and Tina only watched, their smirks mirroring each other’s as Vivian’s body began to change. Her once elegant figure became exaggerated, her curves overtly sexualized. Her dark black hair lightened to an almost blinding shade of blonde, and her makeup became garish, her lips a glossy pink. Her expression shifted from defiance to a vacant, seductive stare, her intelligence and cunning stripped away.

Tina laughed, a cruel, delighted sound. Valerie stepped closer, tilting her head as she examined Vivian’s new form. “Oh, she’s perfect. Just another pawn in our game. Isn’t that right, Vivian?”

Vivian, or what was left of her, giggled mindlessly, her voice high-pitched and airy. “Whatever you say, girls. Just tell me what you want me to do, I'll tell you how much it’ll cost.”

Valerie and Tina exchanged a look, their smirks widening. “Oh, we’ll think of something.” Valerie said, her tone dripping with malice. “Why don't you head downstairs for now?”

Vivian shrugged and wobbled off in her big heels.

Tina turned to Valerie and looked her up and down. "Looking good babe. Can't say I'm not jealous." She said looking disappointedly at her own returned form.

"Yes you really do look a state right now. But don't worry hun, I'm not going to leave you wanting." Valerie smirked back while channeling her new power into creating a new coat that emerged from her own in seconds. She handed the luxurious and pristine white coat to Tina who turned it over and read the label.

"Princess Valentina?" She said with glee in her voice as she slipped it on. She moaned loudly as the coat not only returned her to her previous perfection but even improved upon it. "Well if you're the Queen then that would make me your-"

"Daughter. I've always looked after you like a mother my darling, now I'm just making it official." Valerie said grinning at her. "Well official when your father comes home and I convince him to have me."

"Well I'm sure you'll have no problem doing that. I’m sure you’ll even have fun doing it... mommy. Mmm it does sound right." Valentina said with a wicked smile. "But what next?"

Valerie looked into the closet. "Well I see a lot of empty space in there that needs filling, don't you agree?"

"Absoultely mommy, and I have so many girls who are need of a change." Valentina replied.

"Well we shouldn't keep them waiting now should we?" Valerie smiled as she let her eyes roll back as she started to form new coats.

Meanwhile downstairs Vivian was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs filling her nails when the door opened and Valentina's father Frank walked in. The sight of the new Vivian made him drop his briefcase.

"V-Vivian? Is that you?" He stammered. She looked up at him, chewing her gum obnoxiously. Her eyes drank him in as if for the first time. She blew a bubble and let it pop before saying, "I can be whoever you want me to be sugar."

THE END

[corruptedcaps]

Turn Coat: Part two

Read part one here.

Read part three here.

A week had passed since Valentina’s transformation, and she had fully embraced her new identity. The once meek and kind hearted Tina was now a distant memory, buried beneath layers of makeup, fur, and unapologetic hedonism. Valentina had become everything her stepmother had promised, beautiful, powerful, and untouchable. She was a force of nature, a queen who ruled with an iron will and a sharp tongue.

Valentina lounged on the plush leather couch in the president’s bedroom of the sorority house she had expertly taken over. Her long, golden legs draped over the armrest. Her nails, painted a glossy black, tapped idly against her phone as she scrolled through a stream of admiring messages from guys on campus. She smirked, her crimson lips curling in satisfaction. 

The quarterback of the football team, a tall, muscular Adonis named Chad, knelt between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs as he eagerly attended to her. His tongue worked with practiced precision, and Valentina let out a low, throaty laugh, her head tilting back as she reveled in the sensation.

“Mmm, good boy.” She purred, running her fingers through his hair. “You’re better at this than I expected. Maybe I’ll keep you around a little longer.”

Chad groaned in response, his hands tightening on her thighs. Valentina’s smirk widened. She loved this, the power, the control, the way she could reduce someone so strong and confident to a whimpering mess with just a look or a word. It was intoxicating.

Chad was just one of a long line of guys she had managed to enthral in the past week. Valentina had lost count of how many she’d slept with. It was more than she had in her entire life before the transformation. She had always been too shy, too insecure, to even consider pursuing anyone. But now? Now, she could have anyone she wanted, and she made sure they knew it. She toyed with them, seduced them, and discarded them without a second thought. They were all simply things to be conquered. 

Speaking of conquests, her greatest so far had been the complete take over of the Delta Phi sorority. There was of course the more popular Alphas but Valentina wanted to see how much she could corrupt the more friendly and welcoming sorority. The girls had been hesitant at first, but Valentina’s newfound charisma and ruthlessness had quickly won them over. Although a constant stream of corrupted fur coats had made them even more devoted to her.

Now, the sorority was hers, and the girls followed her every command like obedient little minions. They now dressed like her, acted like her and because of her they were now THE sorority to be apart of.

But perhaps the most satisfying part of her new life was the way she now treated Mallory. Her former best friend had tried to reach out to her, to “save” her, but Valentina had shut her down at every turn. She had humiliated Mallory in front of the entire sorority, mocking her for her “pathetic attempts at friendship” and her “naive little heart.” The memory of Mallory’s tear-streaked face as she fled the sorority house still brought a smile to Valentina’s lips. It was delicious.

“You’re such a delightfully evil bitch.” Valentina murmured to herself as she admired herself in her phones reflection, her voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “And you love it.”

Chad looked up at her, his eyes wide and pleading. “Val, please… can I have a turn?”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk turning cruel. “A turn? You think you deserve a turn? Oh, sweetie, you’re lucky I’m even letting you touch me.” She pushed him away with her foot, her expression cold. “Now get out. I’m bored.”

Chad hesitated, his face flushing with humiliation, but one sharp look from Valentina sent him scrambling to his feet. He grabbed his shirt and hurried out of the room, leaving Valentina alone with her thoughts.

She stood, stretching languidly, and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling mirror that dominated one wall of her bedroom. She admired her reflection, her eyes tracing the curves of her body, the flawless perfection of her face. She was a goddess, and she knew it.

And yet there was a growing desire in her for more. More power. More sex. More control.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. It was a message from her mother.

“Darling, did you take another coat from my closet?”

Valentina rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. Vivian had been her mentor, her guide into this new world of power and privilege, but Valentina was no longer content to be in her shadow. She was ready to step into the spotlight, to claim her place as the true queen.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mommy.” Valentina murmured, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’ll talk soon.”

The door to Valentina’s bedroom swung open abruptly, interrupting her reverie. In strode her senior sorority sisters, their fur coats swishing dramatically with each step. The room seemed to shrink under their collective presence, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and entitlement.

At the center of the group, being pushed forward by the sisters, was a new pledge, a girl who looked utterly out of place among the polished, predatory women surrounding her. She was hunched over, her eyes downcast, her plain clothes a stark contrast to the luxurious furs draped over the others.

Valentina’s gaze snapped to the girl, her lips curling into a sneer. “What is.. this?” She drawled, her voice dripping with disdain as she stepped closer, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. The pledge flinched under her scrutiny, her hands clutching the hem of her sweater nervously.

“Val, this is Emily.” Said Cassandra, the tall blonde who served as Valentina’s second-in-command. She wore a white fur coat that made her look angelic but in reality she was closer to being a demon. Her smirk was razor-sharp as she nudged the trembling girl forward. “We think she’s ready for the… initiation.”

Beside Cassandra stood Bianca, a statuesque blonde with icy blue eyes with a penchant for stirring up drama. So appropriately enough she wore a red coat. Both of them watched with predatory interest as Valentina circled Emily like a shark.

“Ready? This?” Valentina let out a derisive laugh, her pale red lips parting to reveal perfectly white teeth. “Look at her. She’s a mess. Ugly. Fat. Pathetic.” Each word was a dagger, and Emily visibly shrank under the weight of Valentina’s cruelty.

The sisters chuckled, their laughter cold and unfeeling. They knew this was Valentina’s ritual. Bianca flipped her hair over her shoulder, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Poor thing. She doesn’t even know how to stand up straight.”

Cassandra snickered, her green eyes gleaming with malice. “Maybe we should just send her back. She’s not Delta Phi material.”

Valentina stopped in front of Emily, tilting her head as if studying a particularly unappealing piece of art. “But.” She said, her tone shifting to one of mock magnanimity. “Even the ugliest ducklings can be turned into swans. Lucky for you, I’m here to fix you.”

She turned on her heel and strode to her closet, flinging the doors open with a dramatic flourish. Inside, rows of empty hangers hung with one lone fur coat remaining. “Damn it.” She muttered under her breath. “I’m down to my last coat. I guess I really will have to visit Mother soon.”

Her fingers brushed against the coat, a sleek, black and grey fur with a label that read ‘Beta Bitch’ in bold, glittering letters. She pulled it from the hanger, holding it up to the light as if inspecting it for flaws. Satisfied, she turned back to Emily, who was still standing frozen in the center of the room.

“Come here.” Valentina commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. Emily hesitated for a moment before shuffling forward, her eyes wide with fear and something else, hope, perhaps, though it was buried deep. Valentina draped the coat over Emily’s shoulders, her movements almost tender, though her expression remained cold.

The effect was immediate. The moment the coat settled on Emily’s shoulders, a visible transformation began. Her posture straightened, her chin lifting as if pulled by an invisible string.

Her flat chest burst out to give her gravity defying tits. Her lips grew in size as if stung by a bee and her whole waist tightened in, her previous weight being a distant memory.

The coat tightened around her clothes and she moaned in pleasure as she felt the coat transform her baggy sweater and uncool jeans. With a dramatic flourish akin to the one she had seen Valentina perform just moments ago, she flung the ends of the coat out to reveal her new lacey and revealing lingerie underneath.

The sisters gasped, their eyes widening in awe. Cassandra let out a low whistle, while Bianca murmured. “Well, damn.”

Cassandra clapped her hands together, her grin wicked. “Now that’s a Delta Phi girl.”

Valentina stepped back, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips as she watched the metamorphosis. Emily, the new sister of the fur, sat down on the plush sofa and shook out her new sleek hair, to give her queen at better look at her work. As much as Emily adored the attention from her sisters, there was only one opinion she desired now.

“Thanks, babes.” She purred, her voice low and sultry. “Do you approve?”

Valentina walked back and forth, examining Emily as if she were a piece she had sculpted. Examining her and passing judgment until finally she stopped and looked at her sisters.

“Welcome Mila to the house ladies.” Valentina said with a triumphant smile. The two girls quickly crowded around their new member and laid the praise on thick.

“OMG Mila is such a hawt name.” Cassandra said.

“I am so jealous of those lips.” Bianca complimented.

“And that waist? Perfection.” Cassandra added.

“You think the guys are going to like me?” Mila asked as she vainly took in her reflection.

“Like you? Hun they’re going to worship you. Might even give Val a run for her money.” Bianca replied with a cheeky grin.

Valentina’s smirk widened. “She better not.” She said, her tone playful but laced with warning. “Now, all of you get out of here and go find someone to fuck or fuck over.”

The girls all nodded, their expressions one of absolute devotion. Cassandra slung an arm around Mila’s shoulders, already whispering instructions into her ear. Bianca and Delilah flanked her, their laughter ringing out as they led her away.

As the sisters filed out of the room, chattering excitedly about their newest member, Valentina returned to her mirror. She studied her reflection, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes gleaming with ambition. She was unstoppable, a queen in every sense of the word. And with every new sister she created, her empire grew stronger.

“Valentina.” She whispered to herself, her voice a mix of pride and menace. “Queen Valentina. Now that does sound better but to achieve that I'll have to take down poor old mommy.”

Her laughter echoed through the room, cold and triumphant, as she texted Vivian that she was coming over. The world was hers for the taking, and she had no intention of stopping until she had it all.

Although neither of them knew it, Mallory was also on her way to the mansion, to end the tyranny once and for all.

To be concluded...