Part 15
[b]Part 15[/b]
Denise hurried towards the entrance. She was officially giving up! The restaurant was beyond saving and she needed to leave before she lost control of her brain again! Her bare feet slapped along the cold, grimy floor and her womanly body swayed enticingly as she sashayed towards the front door. She simply couldn't stop her widening hips from rolling and her fattening breasts from bouncing. She drew stares from several male patrons as she passed, but their eyes didn't linger long as Denise was simply one of the many naked women prancing around the room. As far as they knew, she was just another set of tits with a tight little slit.
Ghetto rap music pounded from the ceiling and Denise could see the restaurant around her slowly changing, piece by piece, into a dirty strip club. The few remaining tables became smaller and more spread out. They were clearly no longer meant for dining and food, but rather drinks and ashtrays.
She watched as the neon sign above the bar that read 'Mike's Football Shack' rearranged into something new.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lUgSptFKhlh71lGedTDLcegSZcBtGMPs/view?usp=drive_link
Denise could even see the waitresses themselves were beginning to go through changes. A few soft bellies pooched out alongside cellulite and stretch marks. Some shifted to become older, rougher, hairier, uglier, droopier, sadder and less symmetrical. Hair became lifeless, eyes became glazed over while self worth and hope slowly diminished on the their faces. The changes were slow, but Denise could see each passing second made the staff look more and more fitting for the locale.
Denise turned away and made a beeline for the far end where the front door was. She hoped everything would reverse if she managed to get away from the building. The entrance area was smaller with fake wood paneling hap-haphazardly plastered along the decrepit walls. There were poorly handwritten signs secured on the walls with duct tape. A built black man in a t-shirt stood next to the doorway.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1T7hbeguk7qxktpq-CipYlt6UatwzXq5W/view?usp=drive_link
Without her heels, Denise felt even smaller compared to the tall bouncer. She was tiny even for a woman! She was also stark naked and felt his stare burning holes in her curves.
The bouncer looked down at Denise and spoke loudly over the pounding music, "Yo, you need sumthin' Foxy?"
Foxy clutched her temple and fought off another wave of invading fog. The bouncer's male gaze on her body was making her cheeks flush. She quickly noticed her androgynous hands had reverted back to being rather feminine. She glanced down to examine them.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1rX_KddTi8HFmtdX7IHfQqIPCA3EAVOti/view?usp=drive_link
She closed her eyes and tried to focus. She had remember what they'd looked like before! Maybe there was still some power locked away in her head! The image of her androgynous hands swirled in her mind. She tried to latch onto the memory like she had before. As she did, however, the image twisted and changed. She saw her hands with the longer pink acrylics she'd gotten rid of.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YZWnPXUIFdkGwJbryLKQkjRkE3HEHMla/view?usp=drive_link
Foxy opened her eyes and saw her hands had become dainty girly-girl hands once again! The shiny pink acrylics hung about half an inch off her short, thin fingers. The bouncer raised an eyebrow as he watched Foxy stare at her hands with wide eyes.
He asked curiously, "Damn, what'chu trippin' on, Foxy? You need'a calm down, gurl!"
Foxy took a sharp breath as numbness grew in her head like a tumor. It pulsated and expanded despite her best efforts.
She opened her mouth to respond, "I ain't finna trip on nuthin."
She stopped. Her words tickled her throat strangely as they slipped from her mouth. She sounded like an uneducated girl from the ghetto!
Foxy cleared her throat and focused on proper enunciation, "I mean, I ain't- I'm not- I'm not high on any[i]thang.[/i]"
The bouncer scoffed and shook his head, "Uh huh, an' my black ass is president! Jus' don't be smokin' no dope 'roun them Johns, aight? You know Mikey ain't like bitches usin' 'round 'em."
Johns? What did this asshole think Foxy was? A whore?
She snapped back without focusing, "I ain't smoke shit, Malik, and I ain't no 'ho."
Malik chuckled, "Ho', I seen yo' fat ass struttin' back wif'a John an' come out wif'a rack 'a cash in yo' hand an' a wad'a skeet on yo' face or drippin' out yo' pussy 'bout a thousand damn times. Who you tryna' play?"
Foxy endured another powerful wave assaulting her brain. She tried to clear her mind and protect herself. Unfortunately, Malik's words echoed in her head and she struggled to stay lucid. A wayward memory penetrated through her weakening defenses and she suddenly recalled swaying past Malik with a fat, sticky load dripping down her chin. She remembered how he looked down his nose at her with an amused gleam in his eye. To Malik, Foxy was just one of the many whores at the club that sold sexual encounters to men. The evidence of that was plastered on her face, clear as day, and nothing Foxy could say now would change his mind. He saw with his own eyes what Foxy was about. Malik figured she was a heterosexual woman that knew her way around a cock; but not because she'd ever had one hanging between her legs. He figured she'd learned it the same way any slutty woman did: extensive [i]hands-on[/i] training.
Foxy's lower body fattened and ballooned as she struggled to fend off invading thoughts and desires. Malik's words echoed louder. He'd called her a fat ass and her body seemed to be morphing to fit that characterization. Her ass cheeks gushed with fat and her hips widened womanishly. Foxy's long nails brushed against her lower body and she felt herself expanding in real time. Her dainty fingers dug into her flesh which squished around them. When Foxy's body was finished, her ass may as well have had a 'wide load' sticker on it. She had a ghetto booty that begged to be smacked and birthing hips that screamed 'fertile mommy, insert cock here to breed'!
As Foxy was distracted by her newly expanded lower body, another memory managed to slip passed her defenses. She remembered she'd just finished a threesome with two Johns. They'd squirted their seed all over her ass and face after fucking her pussy raw and it slowly dripped down her body like honey. Her hips and glistening vagina were throbbing with pain and she barely managed to limp through the club. Dozens of eyes followed and labelled Foxy as a freshly fucked whore with a sore cunt based on her bow-legged limp and coating of fresh semen. What other conclusion could they have drawn based on how she looked and where she was? She stood in the tiny, sad shower in the back room where she attempted to clean her sticky body and soothe her aching womanhood. She recalled another whore, Vera, with a nearly identical, bow-legged gait and a dripping, freshly creampied pussy walking by. Vera stopped and poked her head in the shower to see who was there. She ran her eyes down Foxy's naked body, coated with semen, and smiled before asking how long she would be. Vera, obviously, didn't have any issue with the very female Foxy being in the back room and further cemented in her mind that Foxy was no different than she was. They were both prostitutes with stinging girl parts after taking a fat dick.
Foxy turned towards Vera to answer.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1CBP8hUKxH54mNNJctuNBxL3vjxUOOZuz/view?usp=drive_link
It was a random, innocuous memory and Foxy wasn't sure why it was stuck in her head. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew these new, old memories weren't legit. Foxy was aware that they were being falsely implanted...but they felt so [i]REAL[/i]! They seemed just as real as any other memory. Every few seconds a new preference or habit or routine or talent or weakness or fetish or sensation or interest or obsession altered Foxy's brain ever so slightly. She became increasingly familiar with the feeling of a man's cock pumping into her vagina without ever actually experiencing it. Her aversion to low quality decor, food and people started to reverse as her memories shifted while an exposure to a poor, trashy lifestyle pushed her standards lower and lower. It mattered less and less to Foxy how clean and orderly her surroundings were. The cloud of smoke, the stained carpet and the dilapidated walls didn't bother her as much. in fact, it felt increasingly familiar.
Not only were new memories implanted in her head, but old memories were twisted and corrupted. She stared into the darkness of her eyelids as she fought against the changes. At first, the alterations were subtle but they quickly stacked on one another and multiplied. She soon struggled to differentiate fact from fiction. Her middle-class childhood in a small, quiet town warped into a lower class upbringing in the inner city. Years of culinary school were erased in an instant and Foxy's knowledge of cooking became limited to the buttons of a microwave. Foxy hadn't been to secondary school, in fact, she'd dropped out of high school at fourteen. Her brain power dimmed as nearly all her academic knowledge drained from her head like a sieve. Her father's presence in her life diminished to the point that he was completely absent. Foxy remembered her poverty stricken existence in the projects where she learned to run the streets like a hood rat and looked up to the local thugs. She committed crime and earned herself an extensive criminal record including theft, vandalism, assault and prostitution. She understood very early that her sexuality was her best asset and she put it to work manipulating and bending men to her will. Of course, it also included fucking any man with a pulse. It didn't take Foxy long to gain a reputation as an easy piece of ass that would suck and fuck any dick for the right price. It definitely didn't hurt that she'd been blessed with a legendary ass.
When the numbness temporarily subsided, Foxy sifted through her memories and tried to sort them into real and fake. There were two personas in her head fighting for dominance and she didn't know who she really was. Was she a genius chef with thousands of hours of rigorous kitchen experience or an ignorant slut from the streets with thousands of hours of nasty sex experience? Was she really a middle aged male or a young female? She just wasn't sure! She opened her eyes and looked down at her body to get some clues.
Foxy first noticed her breasts which she had to crane her neck to see around.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vqLSVCQROBJ6iXZKuQxMPMrVvHHgAd54/view?usp=drive_link
They certainly didn't look like they belonged to a middle aged man with their hefty size and wide, veiny areola with milk ducts poking in the nipples. Her long blond hair rested on them and they raised and lowered gently with each breath. Foxy knew these things definitely belonged to a female! The street girl persona battling in her mind was feeding off Foxy's observations about herself and surging against the chef persona. Foxy's early high-school memories of male muscle growth, itchy face stubble and awkward boners around pretty girls were replaced with female breast growth, upper lip waxing and period bleeding every month. With each change to her brain Foxy slipped further and further into accepting her new role.
As she watched, her chest expanded and pushed outwards. Her tits raised unnaturally despite growing substantially in size. The orbs pulling on her back and shoulders were clearly filled with silicone. She had fake boobs!
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1EICDE4G4u0-MXxMU_94VTdfApPd8giYG/view?usp=drive_link
What kind of man had fake boobs? If she was either a male chef or a female whore, her tits went a loooooong way to convince Foxy of the latter. Another surge suppressed and corrupted more of Dennis' memories. Pool parties turned to block parties, trips to fancy restaurants became McDonald's drive through.
She cupped her breasts and gave them a tentative squeeze. They didn't have the natural, meaty squish that she was used to. It almost felt like she was fondling a water balloon.
Her hands tingled as she touched herself.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YZWnPXUIFdkGwJbryLKQkjRkE3HEHMla/view?usp=drive_link
The half inch acrylic nails lengthened at the ends of her fingers. They narrowed and took on a two-tone, dark pink on light pink shine. These new, much longer acrylics were even more impractical and girly than before. They would catch the eye of anybody looking and further confirm to them that Foxy was happily conforming to socially ingrained feminine beauty standards and eager to display her femininity.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/17lFFv6NmyyBnLB7HliznMOkn4nDyGxqw/view?usp=drive_link
Foxy twirled her long hair between her fingers and giggled as her mind filled with new habits. The acrylics wouldn't be a problem anymore as she gained a lifetime of experience with women's fashion. In addition to clothing experience, it included walking in heels, makeup and feminine grooming. New knoeledge came at the expense of her lifetime of wearing men's fashion which included clothing and masculine grooming. But, it wasn't just the knowledge of the clothing itself, but the familiarity and comfort level wearing it. Foxy wouldn't be remotely comfortable in a men's suit and tie or football pads but she would feet right at home in a dress or a short skirt.
As her mind was systematically reprogrammed, her acrylic fingernails, still playing with her hair, bumped into new earrings hanging from her earlobes. The series of cute earrings she wore had given way to big, gaudy golden hoops. The heavy metal pulled and stretched her earlobes.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Cral6jpLDcQowncXOelLDli6B5XHRiFN/view?usp=drive_link
The hoops combined with her nails, giant fake tits and naked female body to further entrench her role as a prostitute.
The battle was still raging inside her head, but the whore side was clearly winning. She staggered towards the entrance, not really remembering why she needed to go outside, but it felt [i]really[/i] important. Her long hair lengthened between her playful fingers and flowed down her back. It tickled the top of her jutting ass cheeks.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1iNwOM0LrZ0ElO_Xt2H2pObr5ALIV3nMq/view?usp=drive_link
When it finally stopped, she pulled at her blonde hair and tossed it to one side. There was so much! She would have to spend a lot of time maintaining it.
She ran for the door, feeling her body swaying sensually as she did. Her heavy tits forced her to move slower due to their weight and size. Malik charged after her. Compared to Foxy, Malik was like a bolt of lightning and he easily caught up. He had all the advantages that came with being male while Foxy had all the disadvantages of being female to an exaggerated degree.
He grabbed her slim, hairless arm with an iron grip while yelling, "The fuck you goin' 'ho!?"
Foxy grunted and tried pulling her arm away as she pleaded, "I gots'ta leave Malik! Lemme go!"
Malik held her tightly at the threshold as he answered, "Ain't no way yo' fat lil' ass leavin' like dat! Them mothafucka's out in them streets gon' snatch yo' ass up! Ain't neva' gon' see you again!"
Foxy thought quickly and gave a solid knee to Malik's groin. She didn't want to have to resort to such underhanded tactics, but with her limited options she needed to go for his dick. He released her arm and collapsed to the ground while screaming 'Mother fucker' into the ceiling and calling her every sexually charged insult he could muster.
She was almost out!
