"Well, I think that's enough questions. How much do I owe you?" (Job Change to prostitution!)

"Well, I think that's enough questions," Yugi announced, his voice dripping with false finality. He patted her thick thigh again, the leather groaning under the pressure of her newly plumped flesh. "How much do I owe you?" The question hung in the air, laced with dark intent, a verbal key turning in the lock of the Eronomicon's power.

The effect was instantaneous and grotesquely theatrical. Mai's worn leather outfit shimmered, dissolving like smoke before reforming into something cheap and garish. The straining top vanished, replaced by a flimsy, neon-pink halter top that barely contained her ballooning breasts, the thin material stretched obscenely tight, revealing dark circles of areola beneath. Her pants melted away into fishnet stockings riddled with deliberate tears, leading up to a microscopic, glittering silver thong that vanished between the exaggerated swell of her hips and ass. Chunky, platform stilettos materialized on her feet, forcing her into an unsteady, sway-backed stance that made her enormous chest jut forward even more prominently. A thick layer of glittery eyeshadow caked her lids, and sticky pink gloss coated her lips, completing the caricature.

Mai blinked, her vacant eyes wide with a dazed sort of recognition. She wobbled precariously on the towering heels, her body unused to the unnatural posture. A slow, vacant smile spread across her heavily made-up face. "Oh!" she breathed, the sound thick and syrupy. She clumsily ran a hand down her own fishnet-clad hip, the gesture meant to be seductive but landing with the grace of a drunken puppet. "Fer... fer dis?" She held up five fingers, staring at them with intense, simple-minded concentration before proudly thrusting them towards Yugi. "Dis many bucks! Fer... fer anythin' ya want, Mistah!" Her voice was a breathy parody of huskiness, stripped of any genuine allure, replaced by vacant obedience.

Yugi's grin widened into something truly predatory. The sheer, mindless compliance was intoxicating. He reached out, not for money, but to roughly squeeze one of her overstuffed breasts through the flimsy halter top, feeling the yielding, heavy flesh beneath. "Perfect," he purred, watching her vacant eyes glaze over further at the touch, a simpleton's pleasure at fulfilling her designated role. "You're going to be very busy, sweetheart."

The warm pulse of the Eronomicon against his chest mirrored the heat pooling in his groin. Yugi’s hand lingered on the obscene swell of Mai’s breast, feeling the flimsy halter top strain, before he deliberately slid it away. "Forget the money, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and thick with intent. With practiced ease, he unzipped his pants, freeing his already stiffening cock. Mai’s vacant, glitter-smeared eyes blinked slowly, tracking the movement with the dim curiosity of a simple animal. "Dis?" she mumbled, pointing a clumsy finger tipped with chipped, silver nail polish towards his erection. "Pretty stick?" A thick strand of pink drool escaped her over-glossed lips as she tilted her head, utterly failing to grasp the implication.

Yugi gritted his teeth, a flicker of impatience cutting through his arousal. The Eronomicon’s power had hollowed her out so thoroughly. "Not a stick, Mai," he growled, grabbing her wrist and guiding her trembling, inept hand towards his shaft. Her touch was hesitant, clumsy, her fingers fumbling against his skin like a child exploring something unfamiliar. "Suck," he commanded, the word sharp and simple. Understanding dawned in her eyes, a slow, stupid light. "Oh! Suck!" she parroted, a vacant smile stretching her lips. She lowered her head, but her aim was terrible, her lips bumping against his thigh before she clumsily engulfed the head, her technique a messy, slobbering parody of the act. Her vacant eyes stared up at him, seeking approval, her swollen breasts heaving with the effort beneath the straining pink fabric. The sheer, mindless degradation of it sent another jolt of dark pleasure through him.

Enough teasing. Yugi gripped her shoulders, the leather of her fishnet top rough under his palms, and shoved her backwards onto the ritual space’s floor. She landed with a soft "Oof!", her enormous ass and thighs jiggling obscenely, the microscopic silver thong vanishing completely between the exaggerated cheeks. Her legs splayed open instinctively, revealing the glistening pink folds beneath, already slick with a simpleton’s arousal triggered by his dominance and the Eronomicon’s lingering magic. Yugi didn’t hesitate. He positioned himself between her thick, fishnet-clad thighs, the cheap material tearing further under his knees, and thrust into her tight, welcoming heat with a grunt. Her body, reshaped for this very purpose, yielded perfectly, clamping down on him with mindless, instinctive pleasure. She moaned, a high, airy sound devoid of thought, her vacant eyes rolling back slightly as her hips made small, involuntary jerks against him.

Yugi set a brutal, possessive rhythm, driving into her pliant body, each thrust a hammer blow solidifying her degradation.