This is an excerpt from Transformation Park

“Twenty minutes to magic time!” squealed Katrina vivaciously as she pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I’m so excited, feel my goosebumps!” she said, running over to Landon as fast as her white chiffon dress would allow.
 
“Wow, those are really…uh, there…” said Landon, a shy, shrimpy geek. He was careful not to let his hand linger long on her arm.
 
“You’re going to do fantastic, hun, I just know it,” she gushed.
 
“If you say so,” Landon said with a disinterested shrug.
 
“Hey, you never got to go to prom – now you’ll get to see what you missed out on!” said Katrina.
 
Landon gazed down at his feet, kicking a little pebble instead of speaking up. He hadn’t gone to prom because he’d only ever liked one girl – his best friend, Katrina. But she was a couple of inches taller than him, with a gorgeous, statuesque figure, a 4.0 GPA, and personality so overwhelmingly outgoing that Landon felt like lump on a log by comparison. He’d never had the courage to ask her out, and the few guys that did were always politely refused.
 
“Hey, why the long face?” Katrina said, grabbing his chin and pointing it upwards to look her in the eye. Feeling her warm hands on his face brought back a little smile, at least, temporarily, but he knew he still owed Katrina an answer.
 
“I know you say teaching me to dance will be a snap,” began Landon, his voice shaking a little. He hated lying to her. “But…but maybe you’d have more fun with somebody that already knows their stuff,” he concluded. It was as close to the truth as he could get.
 
“Trust me, Landon,” Katrina said. “I’m definitely going to have a good time. And so is everyone, right?”
 
“Yeah!” cheered the other two women in their troupe, the redheaded artist Daphne and Melissa, who’d had a brief stint as a professional gymnast.
 
“Sure,” their boyfriends Hikaru and Simon agreed, their tone thoroughly disinterested.
 
While Katrina, Daphne, and Melissa took selfies together, Landon trudged over to where their beaus were seated.
 
“Oh, man, I don’t get why Melissa wants to do this again,” said Hikaru, a mountain of a man who was attending college on a football scholarship. “It was bad enough at prom. If she wasn’t so…you know, graceful and all that…I would have knocked her over like three times!”
 
“Is dancing really that bad?” Landon asked, feeling more nervous than ever.
 
“Of course!” said Simon, a student from France who spoke with a distinct, lilting accent. “Why don’t girls just go dancing by themselves? I don’t think there’s a…how you say? There’s not a…straight man alive who really likes dancing.”
 
“Well, at least for you two, you’re actually dancing with your girlfriend,” Landon pointed out.
 
“You going to finally ask her out?” Simon asked.
 
“I will…I will…when it’s the right time,” Landon replied, feeling no compunction about lying to Simon. The truth was he’d delay that day forever if he could, since he was certain what the answer would be.
 
“She asked you to come to this dance, right?” asked Hikaru. “You never know, man, maybe that was her way of asking you out.”
 
Landon let out a feeble laugh. “Yeah, right. In my dreams! She’s turned down the best of the best, I’m sure she’s just gagging for a guy like me.”
 
~
 
“One, two, three. One, two three,” Katrina counted. The inside of the Digital Disco looked like a classical Victorian ballroom, with shiny wooden floors and an ornate, golden chandelier where the disco ball was supposed to be.
 
“Ok, now you step forwards as I twirl, ok?” said Katrina.
 
“Ok,” he said. Landon stepped forwards, but froze as he gazed upon Katrina’s beautiful dress swirling around her as she twirled – and subsequently, he forgot to step back, and Katrina stepped onto his toes.
 
“Terribly sorry,” Katrina said.
 
“Oh, no, no…my fault,” Landon puttered. “Guess I’m not very good at leading.”
 
“That’s something I’ve always wondered – why is it that men always are supposed to lead?” Katrina asked.
 
“I…I…hmm…” Landon paused. “Tradition, maybe? The expectation of men taking the initiative…”
 
“Not all couples are the same. Maybe some couples would have better rhythm with the woman leading, right?” Katrina interrupted.
 
“Yeah, I guess,” Landon halfheartedly agreed. What she said certainly made sense on its face, but was this Katrina’s way of trying to gently tell him he wasn’t man enough to lead her?
 
“But if guys aren’t leading, they’ll have do the girl part,” Landon reminded her. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Your twirl?”
 
“Why not? I’d love to see you try?” Katrina said.
 
Landon rolled his eyes, but Katrina pursed her lips. “Oh, come on. Pretty pretty please?”
 
“Alright, alright, just once,” Landon agreed. It hadn’t been a difficult concession – he’d have run across hot coals if she’d asked him to like that.
 
“That’s a good girl,” said Katrina, under her breath.
 
“What?”
 
“Nothing, nothing,” said Katrina. “Come on, let me twirl you!”
 
Katrina stepped forwards, a determined, confident glint in her eye. Landon stepped back a little, and she grasped his left hand and the right side of his waist – precisely how he’d been holding her a moment ago. She took a step backwards, pulling him with her.
 
“See…isn’t this nice?” she said, as she leaned in and whispered his ear.
 
Feeling her breath on his skin would have made any experience nice in Landon’s book. But that aside, he had to admit that, yeah, he was enjoying himself. Since he’d started following her lead, he hadn’t made a single footwork mistake.
 
Finally, Katrina leaned forwards and raised her arm around his head. Landon stepped back and did the twirl.
 
It felt great – enchanted, even – but Landon could have sworn he’d seen the strangest thing as he spun around. Were Hikaru and Simon twirling with their partners, too?
 
When he glanced back towards Katrina, she seemed a little taller. Was she standing on her tip-toes? No, she wouldn’t do that while dancing, would she?
 
“Katrina?” he asked, his voice sounding a little pinched. “What’s going…”
 
“Shh…” she started, abandoning the Waltz pose and rushing forwards, pulling Landon into an embrace so tight and so unexpected that it nearly knocked the wind out of him. “You did beautifully on that twirl, Landon. You’re really a natural.”
 
He was a natural? Landon didn’t know what to say to that. He rested his chin on her shoulder – which somehow were the perfect height for him to do so – as Katrina calmly rocked him back and forth.
 
Landon glanced to the left, towards the large mirror on the wall, in hopes of getting another glance at the other couples.
 
Instead, the first thing he saw was Katrina dancing with someone, a girl, who he didn’t recognize.
 
“Is that one of those funhouse mirrors?” Landon asked, his voice sounding less nasal and more girlish.
 
“No, honey. Just a regular mirror,” said Katrina.
 
“What…? What’s happening to me?” Landon asked, attempting to break free of Katrina’s embrace and run towards the mirror and get a closer look.
 
But Katrina didn’t budge, and Landon wasn’t strong enough to break free. For a few seconds, she simply held him place, leaving Landon to futility squirm.
 
Then, she let go, saying “Of course, let’s get a closer look.”
 
When they’d made their way towards the mirror, Landon could see that he was indeed shorter, with longer, wavy hair and a more feminine jawline.
 
“Oh…oh my gosh…” Landon said softly.
 
“You think that’s something, check this out!” said Katrina. She grasped Landon’s hand firmly, then restarted the waltz.
 
Landon kept his eye on the mirror as they did the basic three step. He could see himself growing shorter and shorter, until he was barely five foot one, while his hair grew longer still, fluttering around him even at the smallest movement.
 
As Katrina pushed forwards and Landon did a big dip towards the mirror, he could see eyeshadow forming on his eyes and rogue on his cheeks, and his glasses had vanished. Katrina leaned into the dip and planted a kiss on his lips. When their smooch ended, Landon could see glittering lipstick on his lips – though he could see by its much lighter shade that it wasn’t rubbed off from Katrina.
 
Katrina pulled him back up, and then took another step forwards, lifting her arms and pushing Landon towards another twirl. This time, he saw he saw the hem of a blue dress flaring up around him, and when he stopped, his suit was gone. In its place was a blue and white sink dress, which clung to a petite set of curves. Landon cupped his small breasts in the mirror and noticed that he now had pink fingernail polish as well.
 
“Don’t you look gorgeous,” Katrina purred.
 
“You don’t exactly seem surprised,” Landon replied.
 
“I told you I going to have a good time, didn’t I?” she said, reaching out and twirling her finger around a few strands of his lustrous, flowing hair. “Let’s call you…Lindsay, does that sound good?”
 
The name danced across Landon’s ears like music. It wasn’t so much that she liked the name, it was as if she was finding out what her name already was. But the thrill of being designated with such pretty name didn’t eliminate the rest of Lindsay’s questions. “You…you wanted this to happen?”
 
“Of course! What girl wouldn’t?” she asked incredulously. To illustrate that point, she pointed behind them, towards the other couples.
 
Hikaru leaped forwards into the air towards Melissa. She caught him and started spinning him around, and with each rotation, his massive girth became smaller and smaller. When Melissa put him down, the top of his head barely came up to her breasts. He had the puffy, pink cheeks of a Japanese schoolgirl, and his hair was done up in braided pigtails.
 
“So kawaii!” said Melissa. “Aren’t you, little Haruka?”
 
“What did you call me?” Haruka asked in an impossibly high pitched voice, as her suit transformed into a pink petticoat.
 
Meanwhile, Daphne was dancing behind Simon, her arms wrapped around his waist, which was rapidly shrinking and becoming more wasp-like. Simon’s chest was swelling as well, making an obvious indentation in his suit, before that melted into a red sequined gown with a plunging cleavage. At least an E cup, Simon’s new figure was an impossibly curvy hourglass. As he blinked, staring at the strange person ahead of him in the mirror, his eyelashes grew longer and thicker, and then were augmented further by an overabundance of mascara.
 
“What do you think...Simone?” Daphne asked. But Simone was speechless – she couldn’t stop staring at her new breasts in the mirror.
 
“Now that we’re ready, group photo!” said Katrina. She set her phone down on a chair, and then pulled the six of them together. She, Melissa, and Daphne all stood behind their new girlfriends, as they were all taller now.
 
“Say cheese!” said Katrina, her voice as cheery as it might be on any ordinary girl’s night out.
 
The picture was taken, and the couples resumed dancing.
 
“Don’t be so nervous, Lindsay,” said Katrina, stroking the back of her head. “We’re an item now, you and me…just like you’d hoped.”
 
So, Katrina knew. She knew all along and…and…this was her way of making her wish come true.
 
“Come on, Lindsay…isn’t that what you always wanted?” Katrina pressed, squeezing Lindsay so hard the breath was forced from her lungs.
 
“Yes, yes it is,” said Lindsay, tears of joy running down her cheeks and smearing her makeup.
 
“Let’s go to the bathroom together and I’ll fix that face of yours,” said Katrina, as soon as Lindsay stopped.
 
“Okay!” Lindsay agreed, and hand in hand, they left the dance floor.

Over a dozen sexy transformation stories await you in Transformation Park! Get the ebook today on Amazon!

This is an excerpt from Transformation Park

Fairy Tale Land: The Journey Begins

Jim made his way down the winding cobblestone paths of Fairy Tale Land, past the ornate castle and the giant trees, towards his destination: The Hansel and Gretel ride. It hadn’t opened yet, but he dutifully planted himself down at the start of the rope line, twiddling his thumbs for what felt like an eternity before another soul arrived.
 
“At last, some company!” Jim exclaimed. “I guess I’m not the only fan, huh?”
 
“Fan?” Emily asked, tucking a few errant tresses of her short, dark hair behind her ear as she spoke. She had bright green eyes that were hidden behind glasses, and a plain, green dress that displayed her modest, slender frame.
 
“I figured anybody else standing in line for Hansel and Gretel before it opens has to be a fan of the story,” said Jim, who had a gangly frame and a tight fitting, black leather jacket. “Right? Right? C’mon,” he said, playfully elbowing her.
 
“I’m more of a student of literature,” Emily replied. “My dissertation is on cultural tropes of women in modern representations of traditional folklore, so I wanted to see how accurately the depiction of…”
 
“All aboard the Hansel and Gretel adventure!” a witchy voice announced, as the doors opened. “Remember, good little boys and girls must keep their arms and legs inside the cart at all times…”
 
“Come on,” Jim said, as they made their way to the old-fashioned looking wooden cart. “Wouldn’t it be tempting to live in that gingerbread house?”
 
“Tempting – that’s the problem,” said Emily. “Being surrounded by junk food like that? That would make it hard to count my calories…”
 
When a single cart arrived, Emily demurred, saying “you go ahead.” Jim got in, but the ride didn’t start and a second cart wasn’t arriving.
 
“I…I guess it wants us to ride together,” said Jim, and reluctantly, Emily sat down next to him.
 
The ride started to chug to life. At first, the cart drove past the woodsman’s hut, and the witchy narrator explaining the dire state of Hansel and Gretel’s family, and the evil stepmother’s plan to abandon the children in the woods.
 
“Stepmother sure is a bitch, huh?” said Jim.
 
“Actually,” Emily began, “the depiction of stepmothers as villains is due to the social pressure to uphold familial lineages, as well as a pernicious attempt to de-legitimize women who have…”
 
“Whatever,” Jim mumbled, rolling his eyes as he tuned her out. 
 
But when the ride took them into the forest, it suddenly lurched to a halt. Jim and Emily sat silently for a moment, wondering if the unexpected stop was supposed to be part of the ride.
 
“Hey!” Jim finally called out. “I think this thing’s broken!”
 
Nobody replied.
 
“No cell phone reception…so I guess we just have to wait…” Emily said.
 
“Just wait?” Jim said incredulously. “You mean stay trapped in here for an hour while they fix it? No thanks!” he said, unclasping his safety belt.
 
“They said not to put your arms or legs outside of the cart!” Emily called out as he left

~
 
When Emily finally left the cart too, it had been over an hour. She didn’t want Jim to have been right all along, but she couldn’t very well wait around forever.
 
It didn’t take her long to reach the gingerbread house. Ordinarily, she’d have avoided it like the plague, but it was the next stop on the story, so it might be the way out.
 
“Hello?” she asked, when she walked inside.
 
“Hello, my dear,” said a woman, as she hobbled down the stairs. From her black robes, her hook nose and sagging, plump figure, Emily assumed she must be the woman playing the witch. “Won’t you stay for a nice cup of tea?”
 
“Oh, thank God! An employee! Look, my cart broke down – any chance you can escort me to the exit or something?”
 
“Your cart broke down, did it?” said the witch, stroking her pointy chin. “I seem to remember instructions saying good little boys and girls aren’t supposed to put your arms and legs outside!”
 
“I waited for over an hour!” Emily protested. “Jim just left right away! So like a man, to just take off like that and then expect the world to accommodate him.”
 
“Yes, men can be…reckless on occasion,” the witch ruminated.

Hansel and Gretel: Up in the Attic

One Hour Earlier
 
Jim only had to walk a few feet forwards before he was greeted with a powerful scent – one which unmistakably let him know he was on the right track: gingerbread. Like a cartoon character whose nose was ensnared by a smell tendrils from a cooling pie, Jim raced ahead through woods, eager to find the source, his earlier plan to find an exit all but forgotten.
 
He had to stand in awe when he finally came upon the gingerbread house. A veritable mansion, the place was festooned with every kind of candy imaginable, from frosted coconut “snow” on the red licorice roof, to graham cracker sidewalks to a gumdrop strewn front lawn.
 
But though the sight and smell of the sweets made Jim’s stomach noisily growl, they weren’t what he wanted to see the most. Where was the witch, he wondered? Was she going to be a model or puppet of some kind, or would they hire a real actress?
 
He couldn’t resist a peek inside – who knew what he’d find?
 
“Hello?” he called out, as he pulled the candy cane doorknob and stepped inside. “Anyone here?”
 
Nobody answered.
 
Jim glanced around anxiously. There weren’t any tracks for the cart, so Jim knew he wasn’t intended to enter the house, but the lights were on inside. 
 
“Jim…come up to the attic…” came the raspy voice he’d heard on the speaker.
 
“Oh, boy!” he said excitedly, barely cognizant of the fact that she’d said his name. He leapt up the stairs two at a time, flinging the attic door open when he arrived.
 
Inside was a small room, covered in cobwebs and smothered in dust. There was a vanity mirror in the center of the room, the desk of which had a few strange looking bottles and an old, black pointed witch’s hat.
 
Something about that hat seemed to draw Jim in; he just had to feel it, touch it, try it on. As he crept forwards, he saw a witch’s face in the mirror. She was old, but had a fiery spark in her eye, and her lips were pursed into a lusty-looking grin.
 
“Go ahead Jim, try it on!” she urged. Entranced, he did just that, without giving it a second thought.
 
“You wanted to find a witch, Jim? You’ve found her!” she said, concluding with a terrible cackle. Then, her visage vanished from the mirror, and Jim was left staring back at himself.
 
Or, at least, he thought he was. Those bags under his eyes certainly weren’t there this morning. Must be the mirror, Jim thought, taking a corner of his shirt and wiping away the dust.
 
In the clearer reflection, Jim could see even more features which looked out of place: His nose was longer, and slightly curved forwards. As he watched, a tiny little wart bloomed near the tip, growing larger. The hair at his temples looked a little silvery, and his eyes seemed to yellow. What was going on?
 
Maybe it was the hat, he decided, and took it off. As Jim did so, a mess of long, oily hair tumbled around his face, like shadowy tendrils.
 
Meanwhile, Jim’s transformation continued unabated. Harsh lines burrowed their way into his face, creasing his forehead with years of worry and his cheeks with the signs of a perpetual sneer. He glanced down and saw that his shirt was starting to change into a dark shroud. As he reached down to feel the fabric, he could feel his flesh was becoming softer and larger beneath it. His chest grew two ripe breasts, which sagged considerably from a trifecta of aging, weight, and bralessness. His hard-won washboard abs vanished beneath a middle-aged woman’s fleshy gut, which poked out beneath the bottom of his robes. Jim reached down between his legs, and felt his cock and balls shrink and wither away in his hands.
 
When he looked back into the mirror, there was no denying what he’d become.
 
Jim thought about what the witch had said, that he’d “found” a witch in the attic. Did that mean he was the witch now? He’d had always sympathized with witch in the story and, later on, he’d developed a preference for older women.  Now, he’d become the very type of woman he’d once lusted over.
 
As a finishing touch, the image of the fat old witch blurred before his eyes, as Jim’s vision dimmed. As it did, the reality of the situation finally flooded back into clear focus. As a witch, what the hell was he supposed to do now?
 
Jim heard the door open downstairs. “Hello?” Emily called out.
 
A crooked smile slowly crossed Jim’s dry lips. He knew exactly what to do.

Hansel and Gretel: Tea Time

“Won’t you please stay and have a cup of tea?” the witch asked. “Being a witch is pretty lonely, you know…”
 
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to chat about the effects of acting in a fairy tale re-creation. In most entertainment mediums, women are objectified as passive sexual objects, but you’re instead you’re serving as the recipient of different form of misogyny, right?” Emily asked, as the witch boiled water.
 
“You’d be surprised at how many men find old witches like me attractive,” came the witch’s coy reply.
 
“What? Really? I guess age is no escape from the perils of the male gaze,” Emily said with a chortle. “At least we’re safe when we have our girl time, right?”
 
“Right, right…you want some honey in your tea, my child?”
 
“Oh, no, I don’t eat honey unless it’s been certified organic, and even then the hypoglycemic counts are…” Emily began, but the witch already started stirring it in.
 
“Drink up,” the witch said, pushing forwards a mug, which bore an image of an angry, anthropomorphic tree on the side.
 
Emily had done her best to resist the sights and smells of the gingerbread house, but when the aroma of that cinnamon clove tea reached her nose, the last shreds of her willpower faded away.
 
“Just a sip,” she told herself, “just to show I’m a good guest and to know what it tastes like…”
 
It was the most sumptuous tea she’d ever had. Emily couldn’t help but gulp the rest of it down noisily, the heat from the drink causing her puffier-looking cheeks to become flushed.
 
“Wow – that’s…that’s…” Emily sputtered.
 
“What’s life without a little indulgence once in a while?” asked the witch, as she poured Emily a second cup and added even more honey than last time. “Go on, you deserve it.”
 
Emily nodded, but before she could take another sip, the witch placed her bony hand over the top of the mug.
 
“Wait, this time I’ve got to give you a snack! You can’t have tea without cookies, can you?” said the witch.
 
“I…suppose not,” Emily agreed. Cookies were strictly a no-no, but she’d just skip dinner to compensate, she promised herself.
 
The witch darted outside, and then returned with chunk of the gingerbread siding, topped with a few fistfuls of coconut snow and a giant gumdrop.
 
“Hope you know I can’t eat all that!” Emily protested. The witch just dropped the stuff onto the table in front of her, the impact causing the tea in the mug to slosh back and forth a little.

“Just have a few bites, my child…” began the witch, and Emily happily obliged. “So, I suppose a woman like you must have lofty career aspirations?”
 
“Maybe I’ll become a professor of humanities, something combining comp. lit and gender studies,” Emily began, dipping a tiny sliver of gingerbread into her tea before munching it down.
 
“Sounds like an awful lot of work,” said the witch, smiling a little as she saw the flabbiness of Emily’s arm increase with each dunk of her cookie. “Why not try something a little more slow-paced?”
 
“Maybe…just do stuff on social media, you know, to raise awareness about the consequences of stories…” Emily suggested. Now she wasn’t bothering to dunk each bite, instead she was stuffing her face as fast as she could. “That slow paced enough?” she said with her mouth full.
 
“I was thinking more…just lazing around and eating all day,” said the witch.
 
“Wait…what?” Emily asked, before letting out a little belch. “Excuse me,” she added quickly. She looked for a napkin, but being unable to find one, she attempted to discreetly wipe her newly-plumped lips on the edge of the tablecloth.
 
“No need to apologize, my child. Just eat your heart’s content,” encouraged the witch. But Emily, embarrassed by her behavior, sat in her chair, frozen in place.
 
The witch slowly got to her feet, her old hips creaking a bit as she stood upright. Slowly, she shuffled towards Emily, her arms outstretched.
 
Finally, she made her way behind where Emily was seated, placing her fingers on her shoulders and gently massaging her. “You’re so tense, my dear. Just relax and enjoy your sweets.”
 
Emily had spent most of her life somewhere between shy and standoffish. It had been years since she’d had so much as a hug, let alone a shoulder rub. The human contact felt kind and reassuring, and it was just the push she needed to resume her gorging.
 
Of course, getting Emily to get back to eating wasn’t the only motive the witch had for giving Emily a massage. Without good vision, copping a feel was the only way the witch could verify the results of her handiwork.
 
As she lifted the big gumdrop to her face and started chowing down, the witch could feel Emily’s shoulders growing rounder and broader. When she moved her hands down a little further, she could feel love handles beginning to force their way free of her top.
 
The witch leaned forwards just a little, and moved her fingers down, feeling the warm, soft, spongy texture of Emily’s tummy poofing out further and further with each bite. “Let’s give this thing some more room to grow,” the witch cooed as she undid the button on Emily’s jean shorts.
 
Emily would have objected, but the witch’s gentle ministrations were certainly helping ease the pain of her overstuffed gut. When the only thing left to eat was the frosted coconut, she grabbed it by the handful and threw it into her gaping maw, which only highlighted her developing double chin. A few pieces of coconut missed her mouth, tumbling down onto her developing bust and falling into her growing cleavage.
 
Those big breasts were thrust against the side of the table as Emily leaned down and licked up the last few grains of sugar that clung to the table’s surface. Her growing rear end stuck out further and further as she did so, nearly knocking the witch over.
 
When at last Emily had eaten everything, she leaned over onto the table, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep with a dull snore.
 
“Sleep tight, Emily,” said the witch. “When you wake up, I’ll really get started fattening you up!”

Over a dozen sexy transformation stories await you in Transformation Park! Get the ebook today on Amazon!

What will Deiser find in the basement of the Candy Factory? This is a fully illustrated teaser from Sweet Tooth Satisfaction. You can read for free via the link below via Dropbox PDF. Be warned: Desier is NSFW!

“Congratulations,” Maggie said as she squeezed William’s free hand. “I’m so proud of you.” Maggie placed the envelope containing his employment offer in the back seat.

“Thanks,” William replied, nodding while keeping his eyes on the road. “Working for this hospital really is an opportunity of a lifetime…but I’m sad that things will be different. We’re lucky that we were both in college together this year. But I’d rather not go off to the East Coast without you.” Maggie, still in her undergrad program, had a quite a few years to go before she would be were William was, finally starting his residency as a doctor.

“You’re sweet, William,” Maggie responded. “But, you know, there are other options.” 

“We agreed that this the optimal decision. It’s not perfect, but we’ve already analyzed all the alternatives…” William said.

“Not…all the alternatives,” Maggie said with a poignant pause. “I could get on the track to graduate early, and maybe you could put your career plans on hold for a little bit.” 

“You, graduate early?” William asked. “Well, I suppose. But what would it matter? You agreed earlier that given my circumstances, taking this job offer was the right thing.” William stated, somewhat confused.

“Pull over, honey,” Maggie instructed, and William complied. Their car slowed to a stop on the empty, private gravel road. “Tell me the truth: would you mind if things changed?” 

“What are you implying?” William asked suspiciously.

“If I altered a few…little things. I’ve always felt that there was something just little out of place with us.” Maggie said slowly.

“How could you do that?” William inquired.

“Oh, leave that to me,” Maggie said through laugher. “I just wouldn’t feel right about it if I didn’t have your permission first.” 

“My permission for you to do what, exactly?” William asked, feeling more puzzled by the minute.

“To make a few changes,” Maggie replied enigmatically.

“What kind of changes, Maggie?” William said exasperatedly.

Maggie leaned over the seat and placed her lips flush against William’s ear. She slowly and seductively whispered, “Special ones….and…” she added as she pulled away, “You won’t have to worry about your job conflicting with our relationship.”

“Well, that sounds superb to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Maggie. I really do want to do whatever I can to make this work with us.”

“That’s what I needed to hear, William. Lie back in your seat and please, close your eyes.” 

William still wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into. But he had learned to accept those kinds of instructions from Maggie readily, as it always led him to pleasure. 

Maggie pulled her lithe body up from her car seat. She glanced around. The private, wooded road was still deserted. They had total privacy.

She slowly pulled her body on top of his and straddled him. She ran her fingers across his handsome, mature looking facial features. She felt her hands run other his suit-covered body, appreciating the muscular frame that he had developed with his strict exercise regimen during grad school. She concentrated on remembering him as he was, at that exact moment. 

Maggie mentally said goodbye to William, the recent med school graduate. She placed her hands around the back of his neck, pulled him forwards into a tight embrace, and kissed him.

At first, the kiss was nothing more than locked lips. Then, ever so slightly, she used her tongue to lick his lips. The lips parted, and the two kissed for barely a moment before Maggie pulled her lips away.

“William, what do you plan to do now that you’ve finished med school?” She asked with purpose.

“Maggie, I’ve still got another year to go,” William casually responded as Maggie started deeply into his eyes. He did seem younger, though it was hard to really discern it physically. How well had she remembered his features from just a few moments ago? “You’re lucky you’ve put organic chemistry behind you in your undergrad. That was my worst year ever.” 

“Organic chemistry?” Maggie asked. She hadn’t taken that course. And yet…as she thought about it, she did remember taking it, clearly. She both remembered taking it and not having taken it at once.

“Yeah, that class is always hard,” William said as he took advantage of their closeness by slowly grinding his body against hers, reminding Maggie that chemistry isn’t the only thing that was hard. “Were you thinking about next year? It’s going to be sad, if I get accepted to a really good hospital back east and I have to leave you behind here. I really don’t want us to be apart.” 

Maggie bit her lip and nodded. He had an excellent point. She hadn’t fixed the problem with her alteration. Their transfer had only shifted things one year. He’d still be leaving next year. Their dilemma hadn’t been solved at all – the can had just been kicked down the curb a year. 

She looked down at her boyfriend. He looked almost identical to how she remembered him. Perhaps there was room for more change. Perhaps the very best thing to do, Maggie concluded, was to make two the same age. If they were in the same year of schooling for medicine, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. One more age transferring magical kiss ought to do the trick. 

Maggie mentally reminded herself to be careful before she began. She only knew how to do this in one direction, and it wasn’t reversible.

She leaned towards William and hugged him tightly. She thought about her memories from her last year of college – memories she didn’t have just a few moments ago, yet they were more real to her now than any memory she had in her head, perhaps more so.

She undulated her slender body over his fit one, exciting them both. Before she could decide whether or not the kiss was the right thing to do, William became overwhelmed with lust and their mouths met. 

This time, the kiss was far more passionate. Maggie couldn’t help herself. She had only barely licked his lips before. Now that they were really kissing, she could feel the energy completely. The more intense it became and the longer it lasted, the better it felt. Maggie felt her entire body tingling with glorious sexual energy. 

After a while, Maggie’s mind finally remembered the consequences. The kiss was enchanted, how could she have forgotten? She quickly stopped, but knew right away she had lingered longer than she had intended.

After the first kiss, William’s clothes had remained the same: the professional suit, which he wore almost always since they had met. Now, he had on a different outfit: one Maggie could never remember seeing him in. It was too casual, too unprofessional to be his.

He was younger now, clearly younger. In fact, it was obvious to Maggie that William was significantly younger than when she had first met him. Yet, the more she tried to convince herself of this, her memory changed. Now, she had two memories of her meeting with him: one, in which she had met an older, professional, med school attending man, and another…in which she had reached med school before he did. She felt her memories of years of classes flood into her temples. The effective instant education was almost overwhelming. 

“I’m going to miss you,” William cooed.

“Miss me?” Maggie said in a daze.

“Yeah. When you leave for back east, you know.” 

“Back east?” Maggie asked, still in shock.

“Yeah…the hospital internship…” William said sheepishly.

Maggie loudly groaned. She hadn’t solved anything. Their situations were merely reversed now. 

And yet…feeling William’s caresses on her body and seeing the eager, young, innocent look on his face was fast helping her forget. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his back, letting her fingers gently play with his hair. She was the older woman now, not just in control during a few moments of passion, but also in principle. Was this the thrill William had once felt in dating a younger woman – the way it used to be?

Though he was young, William was not at all shy. She felt his arms starting to feel her body, still situated on top of his in the driver’s seat. They were, thin, scrawny arms, not yet defined by years of exercise. She could feel him, in his amateur way, trying to slip his hands up her shirt – which was a lot nicer a shirt than she had remembered owning before. She shifted her position on top of him to allow his arm easier access. She felt a tingle go through her body, and was surprised at how much there was to squeeze.

She turned and looked in the rear view mirror. Sure enough, her face looked a little softer, her cheeks and chin a little rounder. She suddenly remembered how she had put on the freshman 15 in college, along with more weight for sophomore, junior, and senior. That thought didn’t seem to bother her at all, though, as she rolled it around in her mind. In fact, as William’s arms roved up and down her curvy, softer, more womanly frame, the thought excited her. 

She cuddled with her younger boyfriend, enjoying the sensations more than she had ever felt before. Their new bodies had a delicious balance.

But there was something more there as well. She had spent all their relationship, in one life anyway, as the younger one, the immature one, the uneducated one, and occasionally the submissive one. That was over. The relationship was completely in her hands. William was hers to shape and mold however she liked.

That thought aroused Maggie. More so than she already was. She loved her power over him, her new abilities to love and nurture him. 

William was doing his best to remove her clothes but was having a great deal of difficulty. As entertaining as that was, Maggie could not help but start thinking that there were still going to be problems in their relationship. She was leaving for her internship, apparently, and William was still stuck in the middle of his undergrad. That wouldn’t do. 

Or would it? She could probably manage, although it would be difficult. She felt a powerful urge to act, but the motivation seemed to be a mystery, if it wasn’t about saving the relationship.

The realization finally hit Maggie with a mixture of shame and delight. It was just at that moment that William succeeded in pulling off Maggie’s top. She could feel his erection pushing through his pants onto her bare, slightly round stomach.

She knew what she wanted to do: she wanted to accentuate the situation. She wanted to push it just a little bit farther. “If he was just a little bit younger, a little bit more inexperienced, a little more malleable…and if I was just a little older, a little more settled, a little more in control…” She could feel this train of thought rapidly arousing her. 

The temptation quickly became too much. She leaned in, wrapped her arms him as tightly as she could, and kissed.

This kiss was different than the others. It was hungrier, more desperate. At first, she felt herself battling his tongue with her own. Then, she felt herself overpower him, kissing him more deeply than she ever had. She could slowly feel the magic running down, losing its power to change. She held onto his body tightly, continuing to kiss greedily. She wanted to drain him of every last drop.

When she pulled away, William was younger. Not really a boy, but not really a man either. A senior in high school, probably. Just barely legal. 

His young faced stared up at Maggie with many emotions, including fear, excitement, and curiosity. Most of all, there was love. He gazed up at her the way a child might look at an angel.

“I love you,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug. The hug itself was innocent, yet at their height and position, his face was resting on her breasts. Not sure exactly what to do, but obviously interested in them, he simply nuzzled his face in them gently. The mixture of his innocence and awakening sexual curiosity was extremely exiting to her.

And how large those breasts were! Searching for an explanation, her mind was flooded with memories. Her budding, successful career in medical research. Long meetings and nights at the lab with little time for exercise. At home, plenty of time for milk and donuts. Ice cream socials at work…

“I love you too, William.” Maggie said at last.

“William? That always sounds so old. Why can’t you just call me Billy, like everyone else?” He asked in his younger, higher voice.

“Billy it is, sweetie,” she replied, stroking his face and feeling his young looking hair. She felt him cuddle with her and gently touch her body. His hands touched her husky upper arms and massaged her round pot belly.

She knew that the relationship was changed forever. Before the shift, it had been on the cusp of good taste in terms of the age gap. Now, it was completely past that. It was now almost completely forbidden and unusual, even more so now that the woman was older.

She sat down and pulled the scrawnier Billy onto her lap. William had told her about his late growth spurt in his early 20’s. Now absent that height, she estimated Billy was slightly shorter than she was. As she stroked his body, she reflected on the new roles they had. She was not merely his girlfriend: she was now so much more. She was the woman who would initiate him into adulthood, help him really understand his body. She would be a friend and an advisor to him, an educator. 

As she cuddled with Billy, she reveled at the new balance their bodies had. She loved how she was not just older, but also bigger, taller, and softer than he was. She was in complete control.

She was now his nurturer, his protector. She would love him and care for him and even treat him like a child – a child eager to discover his budding manhood. She would baby him and love him, becoming almost a mothering figure to him.

All of this aroused her almost beyond belief. She thought about how they would look together in public. Others would laugh or be shocked or chalk it up to a stupid fad. The social friction she knew she would face somehow made it even more alluring. 

Billy looked her straight in the eyes. His young face was filled with love and adoration and devotion.

“Maggie, you’re everything to me,” he said.

“You’re a good boy, Billy. A very good boy. Would you like Maggie to give you a treat?” 

Billy nodded vigorously, and Maggie slowly slipped her hand down Billy’s stomach, tickling him as she went. His laugh was high pitched and childish. Eventually, her had reached his underwear and entered it. 

She could tell by the expression on his face that the sensations were new and shocking, but pleasant. She gently went to work massaging his cock, and it quickly came to life in her skilled, soft hands. 

Before very long at all, he was moaning with appreciation. Maggie leaned in and very gently kissed him, and he kept moaning through the kiss. He came quickly, spraying his body and his clothes with his own cum.

“That was really nice, Maggie,” Billy said, and he slowly kissed at her neck and breasts in ways which were both innocent and sexual.

Maggie used her other hand to gently caress his hair as she kissed his forehead. “Good boy, Billy. Maybe later I’ll teach you how to do that for me.” At that, his eyes lit up. “Let’s get you home first.” 

As they switched places and she got into the driver’s seat, she noticed an envelope in the back. Maggie dimly remembered something very vague, the details fading from her mind as if in a dream upon waking. One detail remained as the others drained away. It was an acceptance letter – and offer of employment. But how could that be?

She reached back and took the envelope in her hands. It was an acceptance letter – for Billy to start his undergrad at her Alma Matter!

“Congratulations, baby,” Maggie said as she squeezed Billy’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” 

“College,” Billy grumbled. “I don’t want to think about it...” 

“Why not?” Maggie said. “Thanks to that opening in division at my job, we can keep living together.”

“I’m just worried about the social life. I’ve never been the most popular guy in high school. What if all the other kids are mean to me?” He asked petulantly. 

“Don’t worry,” she said as she lovingly gazed at him, “My Billy, my sweetie, my perfect boy, I’ll always be there to protect you.” 
~~~
THE END

Want to read another story in which an age transfer helps re-balance a relationship? Check out Trophy Cougar Wife. Sherry is a trophy wife - a young little thing married to a rich older gentleman. But she has a resentful stepdaughter to deal with, and she feels unfulfilled compared to her successful husband. If only there was some way to flip the roles of their relationship... 

This is a sample chapter from  Transformation TV.

This advertorial highlights one of the world’s most popular ice creams, which is adding a secret ingredient – with some weighty consequences! 
 
“Hector, you’re the patriarch of this family,” said Tandy, the blonde-haired, pint sized reporter for Transformation TV. “You’ve built something amazing with your Icy Garcia company. What’s the secret to your success?”
 
“Determination,” he said quickly, stroking his bearded chin. “When I was little, I had nothing. My family, we had nothing. We lived on a shack near the school. But every time I was made fun of, it only strengthened my stubborn resolve, that I’d make something of myself, create a different life for my family.”
 
“And now?”
 
“Now we are quite wealthy, and my daughter Josefina can spend her days carefree. She loves to play volleyball on the beach, and she’s always very popular because she’s so beautiful and because they respect my last name.”
 
“But that respect has taken a hit recently, correct? You lost a lawsuit this year...”
 
“They’re cheats and scum! They said I lied about the fat content in my ice cream. That it makes people get fat. But I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!”
 
“How do you plan to do that?”
 
“I synthesized a special drug that causes weight gain, put in a batch. It’s already on the shelves,” he said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
 
“Aren’t you worried about more lawsuits, now that you’ve admitted you’ve sabotaged your own product? You don’t think there could be any unintended consequences at all?”
 
““They said my ice cream is fattening – I’ll show them fattening!” said Hector. “As for consequences, I have faith that everything will work out for the best.”
 
“And nobody knows about this?”
 
“You’re the first…”
 
~
 
Josefina leapt towards the sky, her long hair fluttering in the breeze and her hand nearly scraping the clouds as her arm swung wide. She spiked the volleyball into the sand, her tight, lean, regal frame strong and still as she landed.
 
“Nice one!” said her partner, Pedro.
 
“I agree,” said Jime, the man who hadn’t returned her serve.
 
“You should have dove for it,” said Deulla, Jime’s girlfriend. “You always let her win,” she added snidely. Deulla was nearly as thin and gorgeous as Josefina, but Josefina always got all the male attention.
 
“All that running around has made me really work up a sweat,” said Josefina. “I think I need to cool off the pool,” she said, referring to the majestic, waterfall-themed artificial grotto on her father’s estate. “Why don’t you swing by in a half hour, after, you know, I put my clothes back on?”
 
The words hung in the air for a moment as all three of them contemplated Josefina’s body in the buff - Jime and Pedro with abject lust, Deulla with more than a little jealousy.
 
~
 
Josefina arched her back against the cobblestone archway as she basked in the cool flow of the mist near the waterfall. A tiny, polka-dot bikini was all that clung to her body. Slender and toned, but with large breasts and a shapely rear, Josefina was immensely proud of her gorgeous figure and the attention she was able to command with it.
 
Josefina was used to getting anything that she wanted, and what she knew would make this perfect was an ice cream cone. A little bite, then a quick skinny dip in the pool - that was would be just fine.
 
Thanks to her father’s company, she’d been blessed by a limitless supply of ice cream for as long as she could remember. And thanks to her speedy metabolism and her habit of constantly playing and exercising at the beach, she’d been even more blessed to never gain a pound from it.
 
Josefina walked over to the built in freezer and pulled out a cone in the shape beer glass, filled it with an extra-creamy varietal called Quadruple Vanilla, then topped it with a generous amount of chocolate syrup. Then, she leaned back up against the archway. Ah, yes, she thought - perfect. Everything was exactly as it should be.
 
When Josefina’s tongue took that first, eager lap against the ice cream, though, she was surprised. This ice cream wasn’t the delicious flavor she was used to. It was...it was…so, so much better.
 
Josefina would have been certain that any substantive improvement on her family’s brand was impossible - how could one tamper with perfection? But this new flavor wasn’t just a feast for the senses. It made her lips and tongue tingle with delight as she swirled the globe of frozen cream around in her mouth.
 
When she swallowed it down, a pleasant, warm glow made its way down her throat, before settling in her gut and then radiating out towards the rest of her body. She’d never felt so euphoric, so happy, so alive, in her entire life.
 
She quickly grabbed a spoon and started scooping up large bites of the ice cream, tearing into it in earnest. As Josefina continued to eat, her body started to expand. First, her cheeks swelled outwards, giving her formerly angular face a more pleasant, welcoming, warm look. Her pointed chin vanished under huskier looking double chin.
 
Josefina’s breasts began to grow larger, and as they swelled, they pushed against the little triangles of her bikini, straining the fabric and causing it to dig tightly against her flesh. But Josefina didn’t notice. She was so rapturously consumed with eating the ice cream that nothing else existed.
 
As she finished, the pleasures made her weak in the knees, and she crumbled downwards. It was a hot day, and much of the ice cream had melted and lay in a pool at the bottom of the cone before she could scoop it up.
 
Not patient enough to gain tiny spoonfuls of the melted stuff manually, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and tilted the cone over her mouth. The melted goo spilled into her gaping maw, as well as running down her chin and then dripping down towards the rest of her body.
 
As Josefina swallowed the first gulp, her breasts finally pushed themselves free of her poor, overstrained bikini top. The little triangles of fabric were pressed to the sides of her growing frame, allowing her engorged mammaries to sit free and unencumbered on her chest. The cool, refreshing wave of melted ice cream rolled down onto them, causing her larger nipples to stiffen up and grow bigger still.
 
Next, the ice cream made its way down Josefina’s tummy, which was no longer flat and waspish but was growing wide and started to shape itself into a little pot belly. And as the melted cream made its way further south, Josefina couldn’t deny that she felt incredibly aroused.
 
Josefina used her free hand to untie her bikini bottom, which was already starting to feel tight and constricting due her widening hips. As she ran her fingers downwards, she could feel the unfamiliar swell of her gut against her hand, but she was too turned on to care. As the ice cream poured down her sex, she began to vigorously rub herself.
 
Meanwhile, as she lapped up the last of the melted cream, Josefina’s splayed thighs grew wider and meatier, forming a large crease where they met against her hips and causing the toned definition she’d built up to vanish completely. The softer flesh now trembled at the slightest touch, and indeed as Josefina enthusiastically touched herself the flab that encased her thighs began to jiggle like mad.
 
Josefina’s little pot belly began to swell, and then fold over her hand and wrist, though she certainly wasn’t trying to move her hand away. A second upper belly formed and then folded over the first, giving her two distinctive rolls which wrapped all the way around her waist and connected to the plumpness of her hips and back.
 
As Josefina buried her rounder face in the cone, her long tongue skating inside to lap up the last bits of cream, her breasts continued their expansion. Her breasts growing outwards until they consumed nearly half of her torso, the firm, beautiful torpedoes still sitting proudly on top of the little shelf of her upper belly. They were large and heavy enough that they pressed against the sides of her frame and created yet another little roll that seemed to tuck under her arms - which, meanwhile, had swelled into decidedly husky proportions.
 
Josefina groaned as she climaxed, her body shaking and quivering and little droplets of melted ice cream flying everywhere. The manic high her body was experiencing finally peaked and then quickly ebbed away. As she began to catch her breath, Josefina glanced down at herself - and screamed.
 
She’d turned into a fat, disgusting whale! What the hell had happened!? She’d felt some unusual textures and sensations from her body while she was gorging, no doubt about that, but how could one ice cream cone possibly do this much damage?
 
That’s when Josefina remembered she’d invited her friends over - what in the hell would they think? Josefina knew she had to text them to cancel. Her phone was on the other side of the long pool, so she slowly waded into the water to get it.
 
“Josefina?” Deulla called out. “There’s somebody in your pool!”
 
“Wait - oh, my God, I think that’s her!” said Pedro, as Josefina tried her best to cover herself up with her arms. Due to her increased girth, this was proving more of a challenge than she anticipated.
 
“It is!” agreed Jime.
 
Deulla silently smirked. If the huge, rotund woman wading through the water was indeed Josefina - and she couldn’t deny the uncanny resemblance - then all her prayers had been answered. Her biggest - no pun intended - rival had been toppled.
 
“Wow, Josefina...you’re...you’re…” Pedro sputtered.
 
“Just say it, get it out of your system,” Josefina begged him, closing her eyes and preparing for the name calling and the laughter that she knew would be coming next.
 
“You’re sexier than ever!” shouted Jime.
 
“That’s just what I was going to say!” said Pedro. “I can’t believe it! Whatever you’re doing, it is working great!”
 
“What!?” Josefina and Deulla said at the same time, in opposite tones of voice.
 
“I’m sexy?” Josefina asked, monetarily stunned. “Well, yes, of course I’m sexy!” she quickly recovered. The only thing more massive than Josefina’s body was her giant ego, and now that the men in her life loved her, her earlier insecurities melted away like cheap ice cream in the sun.
 
Both Pedro and Jime jumped into the pool with their clothes on, eager to get a closer look at the plump vixen.
 
“Have you two lost your minds?” Deulla asked. “She’s a cow!”
 
“Look at those breasts!” said Pedro. “May I?” he asked, and Josefina nodded as he gently stroked the sides of them.
 
“I love that big tummy,” said Jime, as he poked at her sunken belly button.
 
“You’ve always loved sports, Josefina - what will you do now?” Pedro asked.
 
“How about...wrestling!” she said, charging forwards and causing water to splash in her wake. She used the momentum generated by her massive mass to push him backwards. Pedro tried to fight back, but Josefina wrapped her arms around his back and leaned forwards, taking total control. Both had huge grins on their faces as they sank under the water.
 
“Jime, come on,” Deulla said, as she pulled him back. “What is this, just because she’s rich, you’re willing to say or do anything to get with her?” she whispered.
 
“She’d be just as sexy even if she didn’t have a peso to her name,” Jime replied. “And, for the record, you could stand to gain a few pounds yourself.”
 
Josefina and Jime surfaced in time to hear this, her wide grin reached impossibly large proportions. She knew she could lend Deulla a hand by telling her about the ice cream, but she wouldn’t mention that to her for the world. Right now, all eyes were glued to Josefina, just as they should be, she thought.
 
Thank you for watching this paid Advertorial. Your experience using Icy Garcia products may differ.

Transformation TV has dozens of transformation stories of all kinds. Get it on Amazon today!

This is the first chapter of Transformation TV.

“Hello! I’m Tandy, and welcome to Transformation TV! We’ll start off with a quick look at the news to help keep you apprised of current events, and then we’ll get back to our regularly scheduled programming.”
 
“Last night there was a debate for the Mayoral election, between City Councilwoman Willow Nox and pro-wrestling TV sensation Max Banks, and it’s being called a game-changer…”
 
~
 
“Tonight, we’re here because you have a choice,” began Willow as she stared at the crowd. A slight woman, she was spindly slender, with dark hair with a few prominent white streaks running through it. She gripped the lectern with nervous intensity as she spoke softly. “We can choose experience and competence, or we can ask an entertainer who’s never run anything to be our city’s steward. You can choose…”
 
“You’ve got a choice, all right,” shouted Max, slamming his fight down on the podium. A huge, barrel of a man, Max’s muscles were visible through the outline of his too-tight dress shirt. “You can choose to do the same old politicians who keep messing it all up, or you can vote for someone who will fight for the public! I didn’t take any campaign money, so that proves I’m only in it for you!”
 
The crowd cheered enthusiastically for Max, who was riding high in the opinion polls leading up to the debate.
 
“I have a ten point plan to help the economy. Statistics show that…” started Willow.
 
“I’ve got a one point plan: make the city terrific again!” he said. Once more, the crowd went wild.
 
“Do you really want a bunch of machismo histrionics from your mayor?” Willow asked the audience. They cheered in the affirmative. “So be it,” Willow said with a little shrug, as she turned her gaze from the audience to her opponent.
 
“Better you get a macho man’s man as mayor than left-wing occultist,” said Max. “I remember watching those ‘I swear to God I’m not a witch’ ads she had to put out. Let me tell you, I sure as Hell wasn’t convinced!” he said with a big griffaw. The audience laughed along with him.
 
“You weren’t?” Willow asked. “Then perhaps you were just a little smarter than I gave you credit for,” she muttered under her breath.
 
“What’s that?”
 
“I say, let’s cut to the chase. I challenge you to an arm wrestling contest. Loser drops out of the race and endorses his or her opponent immediately.”
 
“You’re...challenging me...to an arm wrestling match!? Don’t make me laugh!”
 
“What’s the matter, big man? You feeling...chicken?” Willow asked. “Bawk, bawk?”
 
“Screw you, it’s on!” Max said, rushing towards her end of the stage and planting his meaty arm on her lectern. “I’ll cut you down to size, just like I’ll cut taxes for the job creators!”
 
“I think you’re going to be the one cut down to size, so to speak,” said Willow, meeting his grip. “And your tax plan is nothing but a giveaway to wealthy people like yourself.”
 
Max immediately pressed Willow’s arm almost to the edge, but couldn’t quite manage to finish off his small opponent. Like shoving a brick wall, the harder he tried to pin her, the more resistance he encountered.
 
“What’s the matter, having trouble?” Willow asked. “Need a hand?”
 
“I’m...fine…” Max grunted. But somewhat uncharacteristically for him, his arm was already feeling a little tired and sore. Still, he couldn’t let up - what would the audience think if he lost an arm wrestling contest to a woman? Especially one as skinny and weak looking as Willow.
 
But Willow’s weakness seemed to be vanishing before his eyes. As Max gazed down at her arm, he could see thin fibers of muscle forming, and a tiny bicep start to rise under her skin.
 
Max glanced down at his own arm and gasped - his muscle, though still huge, didn’t quite look as mighty as it did a moment ago. In fact, Max could see his strength receding before his very eyes.
 
He glanced at Willow, whose dark eyes were gleaming as she flashed him a sinister grin. Her face seemed to be rising somehow - was she getting taller? Or was he getting shorter? Or both?
 
Max quickly decided that he valued his body much more than his pride, or the election. He tried to let go of Willow’s hand - but she held on with an iron grip.
 
“What are you doing to me?” Max shouted. Even his mighty voice sounded a bit whinier than he was used to.
 
“Just giving you what you deserve,” she said, her voice sounding far more forceful and confident. Willow’s arm rippled with strength, her bicep swelling. Her shoulders broadened, fraying her suit and exposing her hardening flesh. Her breasts grew, as did the wall of pectoral muscles beneath them, causing the buttons to fly off of the dress shirt she was wearing, some of them hitting Max in the face. Her height increased, and as she grew taller than the lectern, the audience got to see how the cord-like muscles strained against her pants.
 
Meanwhile, Max’s figure continued to shrink and wane, becoming slender, short, and boyish, his clothes suddenly huge and baggy around him. When the last of his strength left him, Willow pinned his arm to the lectern.
 
“I win! Drop out of the out of race!” Willow shouted as the crowd roared its approval.
 
“Okay! Okay! I drop out! Just give me back my body!” Max begged.
 
“Never!” said Willow. “Kiss what I stole, kiss my muscle,” she said, grabbing him by the back of the head and forcing his lips against her hardened bicep, the very same power that used to exist in his own arms.
 
Max didn’t want to kiss her - muscular women were gross in his mind, and it was humiliating to be forced by a woman to do anything - but in spite of himself, he realized he was becoming aroused. Not only did he kiss her bicep, but he started licking and sucking on it, and stroking her hunky shoulder lovingly.
 
“Keep that up and maybe I’ll let you be my first lady,” Willow said with a smirk.

Transformation TV has dozens of transformation stories of all kinds. Get it on Amazon today!

This is the first chapter of The Transformation Mall.

"I don't know what you're so worked up about," Jewel said. She stared blankly at the fairly ordinary-looking storefront of "Cougar Clothes" for a moment before returning her gaze to her phone.

"Well, honey, this is one brand you can't buy online," said Michael. "I checked."

"Now this is getting even more bizarre," said Jewel. "You actually researched a women's clothing store? Why?"

"Um...just to make sure you could get a unique gift today," Michael said, trying his best to sound innocent.

"Whatever," his wife said. Jewel was clad simply in a T-shirt and jean shorts. She was never one to spend much effort on fashion. "I'll try some stuff on, I guess," she said blankly, and walked into the store. 

"Welcome to Cougar Clothes. I'm Margo. How can I make your day perfect?" said the woman behind the counter, a middle-aged vixen with slightly overdone, stylized eye makeup and a low-cut clingy black top. She seemed to be speaking to Michael, rather than to Jewel, though she was so wrapped up in her phone that she didn't notice.

"Hi, I pre-ordered a deluxe package," Michael said.

"Wait, you already paid for stuff here, and you don't even know if I'll like it?" Jewel asked. 

"Trust me, you'll love it," said Margo in a husky voice. When Jewel appeared unmoved, she added "Or your money back." 

"You better, or else I'll give you guys a nasty review on Yelp," Jewel said, her eyes narrowing.

"Deluxe package comes with a fashion consultant, Anna will be your guide," said Margo. Another middle aged beauty, this one with streaks of white in her lustrous mane of dark brown hair, came to escort her towards the changing rooms.

"So," Margo said, returning her gaze to Michael once Jewel was out of sight. "You married a younger woman. Regretting it?"

"Every day. When we met, I thought she was kind of immature, but I thought if I gave things time..."

"No couple should have to wait decades to be happy," said Margo. "And I'm guessing that's how long you would have had to wait with that one. I'd say she's about ten years younger than you, so she's about....twenty five, I'd say?"

"Right on the button. You're good or you're lucky," replied Michael.

"It's my job, so I'm damn good," she said, placing her hands on her wide hips. "Don't think just because this shop's just opening that we're armatures. I worked for years in the New York branch before being asked to come out here and manage this one." 

"So," Michael gulped. "The brochure wasn't exactly heavy on details. What's, exactly, going to happen to her? "

"Why don't you sit in on a consultation and see for yourself?" Margo offered.

Michael didn't have to wait more than five minutes before another customer walked into the store. Younger and thinner even than Jewel, she came in with a slightly bowed head and a palpable aura of insecurity. 

"Welcome to Cougar Clothes, how can Margo make your day perfect?" she asked. “Want to upgrade your look? Maybe catch the eye of a man in your life?”

“Actually, yeah. I’m Olivia, and I’ve got a massive crush on my TA…” she began, in a high-pitched, airhead-sounding voice.

“Stop right there, I can fill in the rest,” said Margo as she held up her hand. “He’s a bit older than you, but he only has eyes for women older than him, am I right?”

“Right again. How’d you guess?” Olivia asked.

“Honestly? I think just about all men fantasize about cougars,” replied Margo. “Sure, some seek out young women, but just because they’re status symbols. Those men are rarely happy. Isn’t that right, Michael?”

Michael nodded weakly. Damn, he thought – she was good.

“Well, girl, you came to the right place,” said Margo. “Once we’re through with you, your man won’t be able to resist. And that’s guaranteed.” 

“Great,” Olivia said. “When can I get started?”

“Well, all of my fashion consultants are busy right now,” Margo began, and Olivia’s face grew sullen with disappointment. 

“So…I’ll do you myself,” Margo concluded. “If you don’t mind Michael here tagging along, that is.”

“Oh course not, thank you so much!” Olivia gushed. 

Margo took her by the hand, gathered up a heap of clothes and a black binder, and they walked together into the last free fitting room, which contained a full length mirror.

"Don't  you worry about picking anything out, I've already got the perfect look in mind for you," said Margo.

“Great, that’s a relief,” replied Olivia.

“Now, for the hips…” Margo said, placing her hands around Olivia’s waist. “You know, I can almost wrap my fingers around that. My 12-year-old nephew is more hippy than you!”

“What should I do?” Olivia asked, sounding concerned.

“Well, I happen to have a beautiful skirt here that I think would certainly help,” Margo replied. “It’s part of our post-maternity signature line. Makes your hips look like you’ve pushed out a baby or two. And the hem is just great for making your thighs a little thicker.”

“I can leave if you need some privacy with, uh…changing,” Michael said as he pondered the double meaning there.

“No, no, stay,” Olivia insisted, as she removed her tight-fitting skinny jeans and her floral print top. “I think I’d like a man’s feedback.”

“Alright,” agreed Michael. He leaned back against the wall. This entire experience felt so odd. He never imagined that they were this detailed. And he never thought in a million years that women would actually consent to such alterations.

Olivia stepped into the skirt, and Michael saw her hips spread as she did so, flaring beautifully against her long legs. Her thighs expanded as the hem fluttered across them, and looked creamy, smooth, and irresistible.

“Keep in mind, you’ve got to sit right if you want to show off those legs,” said Margo. 

She sat down on the small chair backwards, her legs splayed out, only the chair’s back blocking her crotch. “This is a good way to get guys looking, without giving away the game.”

“What have you got in terms of bras?” asked Olivia, casually removing her sports bra, giving Michael a view of her nude, small chest.

“Well, you’re an A cup, aren’t ya?” Margo asked in a disapproving tone. She held up an under garment to Olivia’s chest. “How about upgrading to a B, our ‘Buxom’ line?” she said. 

Michael’s jaw dropped as the nearly nonexistent little globes swelled to meet the cups, growing to the size of little tangelos.

“B, come on!” Olivia complained. “Bigger!”

“Don’t worry, bigger we can do,” Margo said, pulling the bra off. Olivia’s newly enlarged breasts didn’t change their shape at all. “Just keep in mind, we can always go up a size, but we can’t ever go back down!”

“That’s fine,” Olivia insisted. “Just make me bustier, I’m begging you here.”

“This is our C line, what we call the ‘Curvy. That’ll match your new hips nicely,” she said, holding up the next size. Olivia’s breasts swelled again, this time to the size of fists. Margo was right, they did seem roughly in line with the moderate curve of her still slender frame.

“Just a C?” Olivia asked. “I want to be a cougar!”

“Alright, alright, relax,” Margo said. “DD big enough for you? That’s our ‘Double Deluxe’ line, but I warn you, with girls that big, gravity can affect things, especially when you reach a certain age.”

“Please, please, please put it on,” Olivia begged. 

Margo complied, snapping the bra in place behind her back, which suddenly arched forwards as the weight of her new breasts kicked in. Now the size of grapefruits, they were big enough to catch Michael’s eye. But Margo was right, they had lost some of their perkiness and were riding just a little low on her chest.

“Hmm...what do you think of them, Michael?” Olivia asked, turning to face him. 

Michael squirmed a little with nerves. It was the first time a woman had openly invited him to ogle her breasts. Not even Jewel was ever this forward, and she was his wife!

“They’re, uh...good,” he mumbled.

“Just good?” Olivia pouted. “I want top of the line!”

“Ok, ok,” Margo said. “Here’s an F cup, just came out. Doesn’t even have a brand name yet. I called it the ‘midlife crisis breast implants special.”

“But my boobs will actually be all natural, right?” Olivia asked.

“As natural as magic can be, yes,” Margo said.

She raised the huge bra over Olivia’s head, and put it on. The girl’s already big breasts grew massive, jutting forwards now as though gravity had just given up on her. The bra fit snugly, giving her a cleavage nearly up to her neck. It would make even a conservative outfit look obscene. Margo fit her with a sparkling tube top, part of her “I Refuse to Dress my Age” line that fit her very tightly.

“Perfect,” Olivia said, cupping the huge mounds and cooing over them. 

Michael turned his head away, but kept staring through his peripherals.

“Great,” said Margo. “Don’t be afraid to encourage men to look at them,” she instructed. “A lot of men, like Michael here, still feel nervous about openly staring at a woman’s tits, even a set as fine and as large as yours.”

“Oh dear. How could I get them to look, then?” Olivia asked.

“Well, you could wear a big necklace that falls right into your cleavage. That will give guys an excuse to look, as they can pretend they are taking a gander at your jewelry,” said Margo. “Another trick is yawning.”

“Yawning?” Olivia asked.

“Yeah, it works wonders, honey. Arch your back, put your hands behind your head, cock your head just slightly, clearly close your eyes, and let out a quiet, cooing yawn. It’s a cute pose, almost looks like an ‘O’ face. And guys will see it as an opening to stare, since your eyes are shut. Give it a try,” Margo said.

“All right." She let out a yawn just as she was instructed. Her top rose a little from her skirt, giving Michael a peek at her flat tummy in addition to her enhanced cleavage.

“Fantastic work, great. Michael’s eyes were glued to you! You want to keep your flat tummy or upgrade to a more age appropriate midsection?” Margo asked. “You know, women of a certain age often gain a little weight around the middle.”

“Hmm...I don’t know. Michael, do you like a girl with a bit of a belly?”

Michael swallowed hard. He’d never talked to anyone about his taboo desires. Even in a shop like this, he felt odd admitting it. But he took a deep breath, and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Fantastic,” said Margo. “I’ve got some specially formulated cocoa butters right here. We call this stuff ‘Belly Butter.’ What kind of gut were you looking for? Spare tire, pot belly, love handles?”

“Pot belly,” Michael said.

“Ok,” said Margo, opening up the brown jar and rubbing her hands with some sweet smelling goop. “Just let me know when you’re satisfied.”

Michael watched in fascination as Margo’s hands rubbed Olivia’s midsection. Her nearly concave tummy swelled outwards, rising like dough in the oven as her skin soaked up the Belly Butter. Neither Olivia nor Michael gave the instruction for Margo to stop, so she only did so when the butter had been entirely absorbed. The result was a pert, round belly that Michael knew would poke out of any clothing. 

“I’ve also found stuff works wonders on arms,” said Margo, dipping her fingers in more and slathering them on Olivia’s upper arms and shoulders. “Helps get that nice, jiggly, older woman arms everyone loves to squeeze.” 

Indeed, Olivia’s shoulders grew rounder and her arms lost definition, developing a small layer of soft, drooping flab.

“What about my voice?” Olivia asked, as she playfully flicked at her new arm flab. “I still sound like a little kid.”

“We have a lozenge that helps with that, alters the hormonal balance on your vocal cords. It also does wonders for improving your sex drive. You want Husky Hazelnut, Sultry Strawberry, Gravelly Grape?” Margo said, reaching for a baggie on a shelf above the mirror.

“Hazelnut is my favorite flavor,” Olivia said. 

Margo handed her one, and Olivia gleefully unwrapped it and quickly popped it in her mouth, with all the eagerness of a kid gobbling up Halloween candy.

“Ok, let’s do the face and makeup package,” said Margo. “We’ve got to make you look your age! We’ve patterned the styles off of different celebrities. You excited?”

“Of course! I’m so tired of being treated like an innocent, little kid. And I’m sick of having to ask my friends to buy me booze,” she said, her voice already starting to sound a little huskier. “I can’t wait to be in the prime of my life, and be treated like a sexy, mature goddess.”

“Well, of course we’re going to make that dream come true! But sweetie, I’ve only got one question. How mature do you want to go?” Margo asked.

“Well, what are my options?” asked Olivia.

“On the older side, we’ve classy looks like the Kim Basinger. Geena Davis is great if you want that ‘naughty mommy’ look. Or maybe a Linda Hogan if you’re going for a trashy, slutty vibe,” Margo said, flipping through the binders and showing pictures. 

“Wow, they all look sexy,” said Olivia. 

Michael silently concurred; they’d all been women he’d fantasized about.

“Of course, many of our customers prefer to start with a little younger look first, then ‘gracefully age’ into one of these as the years as time goes by,” Margo suggested.

“That sounds good. I’ll pick a younger one for now, and then in a few years, I’ll come back for an upgrade,” she said. 

That was a thought that sent a chill of excitement down Michael’s spine. Damn, he thought, these people plan for everything!

“For the younger side, we’ve got women like Renee Zellweger,” Margo began. 

“She was so cute in that ‘Bridget Jones’ movie,” remarked Olivia. “Why’d she lose the weight?”  she asked, her voice sounding lower still and the ‘valley girl’ diphthongs vanishing entirely.  

“Hollywood is just crazy,” Margo said with shrug. “Tiffani Thiessen is another great choice, she was very popular for men growing up 20 years ago.” 

Michael’s heart leapt as Margo pointed at that picture. She’d certainly been a celebrity crush of his and she’d only gotten more beautiful with time.

“Oh, Christina Hendricks,” said Olivia, pointing at the binder. “That would go perfectly with my new chest.”

“An excellent choice,” said Margo, pulling out a makeup tray from her purse.

“This stuff doesn’t wash off, right?” Olivia asked.

“Of course not, this is permanent,” said Margo. “I’d never use knock-off products.”

“Ok, good,” she said. “Just checking.”

“So, let’s give you some rouge, help develop some rounded cheeks,” she said. Michael saw Olivia’s well defined cheekbones vanish under puffy softness, their new heart shape highlighted by the pink blush. 

“I’ve got a styling pencil, that’ll help give you a couple of dimples and very small laugh lines.” Rather than draw them on, though, as the pencil moved, very faint creases and wrinkles appeared on Olivia’s skin. “Just a hint of crow’s feet to finish it up,” said Margo.

“Fantastic!” Olivia said, as she admired her new face. Michael stared into the mirror, dumbfounded. She really did look like she could be 40 years old. The skinny little kid who had walked into this store just a short while ago had completely vanished.

“My last words of advice for you: be assertive. Be aggressive. Take charge. Men like it when a woman knows what she wants,” Margo said, and Olivia nodded.

The three of them walked back to the front desk together. Michael noticed that Olivia had left her old clothes on the changing room floor. It was just as well, he thought - she’d never be able to fit into them again.

“Here’s your bill, if you’re ready to settle up,” Margo said, presenting her with a receipt. 

Olivia refused to even look at it, handing over her credit card right away.

“This is the best shopping experience I’ve ever had. Whatever you think is fair, I’ll pay it,” she said. “And tack on 40% extra as a tip for you.”

“As you wish, darling,” said Margo. 

Both she and Michael gazed at her as she left the store, her new hips causing her to gain a swaying, sexy motion to her gait.

“That was amazing,” said Michael. “Do you really think my wife would ever willingly go in for something like this?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Margo asked. She walked back towards the changing rooms and opened the door to the second stall.

Out walked a woman Michael could barely recognize, though he knew it had to be his wife. She had a flowing, oversized dark blue silk jacket, and underneath that a matching halter top that showed off a huge, slightly low-riding set of breasts, and her wider waist. She’d developed a cute little double chin, dimpled, very rounded apple cheeks, and faint lines around her eyes. The doe-eyes that had once screamed innocence and empty-headedness now had a slightly steely, lusty glint to them. She’d blossomed into a real woman in Michael’s eyes, and the fact that she’d done it willingly made her even more alluring.

“Wow, Jewel?” he asked. “You look great, but...why did you do this?” 

“The salespeople here are really persuasive. They said it would put our marriage back on track,” Jewel said in a deeper, more sultry voice. No longer sounding like a disinterested kid, she kept her gaze focused solely on him. “What do you think? I picked the Thiessen makeup kit, hope that was a good choice.”

“Yeah, yeah, it really was.” Michael agreed breathlessly as Jewel confidently strode towards him.

“I think we ought to get out of here,” Jewel whispered in his ear as she nibbled on it, and gently ground her new bosom against his shoulder. 

Michael, licking his lips with anticipation, nodded, and they started to walk out together. Just as they were about to leave Cougar Clothes, Michael cast a fleeting glance backwards. Margo waved goodbye to him, and then flashed him a thumbs up sign.
 
Did you enjoy Cougar Clothes? Then get The Transformation Mall to explore all of the shops!

Case Study