A little mayhem before Jonny leaves the restaurant.

Jonny stood in the restroom for a moment marveling at the beautiful woman he had just turned into his ****. He would head to her home soon, and he would relish having her around . . . he could certainly use her. She had spunk. Jonny started to make his way to the restroom door. As he reached for the handle, he suddenly stopped. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he knew something was amiss as he stared at the reflection of his barely-pubescent, thin-as-a-rail male body. “This is a women’s restroom,” he reminded himself, “gotta keep up appearances,” he declared with a smile as his eyes began to glow red and he concentrated.

The first thing to change was his height. Jonny’s body grew a good five inches, so he now stood at about five foot eight. His bones lengthened and his cartilage squished about, molding themselves to his will. Then his skin tone darkened, changing in shade really but not color, if that makes sense. Gone was his pale skin, and in its place was a beautiful tanned exterior of one who spent plenty of time on the beach. Around the same time, his skin began to writhe and bubble, like a thousand tiny bugs were crawling about inside him. Parts of his body expanded and contracted suddenly, like water being **** about inside a plastic bag that struggled to contain it, or like a cup about to run over but just barely holding the material inside it at bay. Suddenly, the next change began. Jonny’s hair went from black to a bright, radiant, blonde, and it lengthened by orders of magnitude, crawling down his back and flowing freely and beautifully, though looking rather strange on his male body.

Hi face softened. Things around him blurred as his eyes grew closer together and his cheekbones came to occupy a higher position on his face. His eyes shifted into a deep blue color. Suddenly, Jonny felt a popping and a cracking in his back and hips, “Aww shit,” he said as the crackling of bones was rather unsettling. He looked down at his now ill-fitting clothes to see a set of wide hips and a narrow lower back attached to his ever-shifting male body. He grabbed at the handle of the door to steady himself. “Here comes,” he said, his voice now a good big higher than it had been. The writhing and squishing and bubbling about under his skin became even more intense, enough so that some of his clothes were starting to give way at the seems. Suddenly, all of that stopped. Jonny stood before the mirror and beheld his partially changed body, one that seemed unable to decide whether it was a man or a woman. “Now!” he yelled. In one wondrous, fluid movement of overwhelming and overflowing expansion, Jonny’s body surged forth in all the right places. His ass suddenly expanded into a beautiful and round shape, and a bit of extra plump flowed into his wonderful belly. “Oh my god,” he said, his voice now fully female, as his innards writhed and bubbled more. He closed his eyes and felt a certain concentration in his chest for a split second, followed immediately by a beautiful blossoming of two spectacular mounds of jiggly flesh that surged forth from his boring male body. Warmth and even burning filled his entire body as a thousand small changes got made at once. His male member suddenly and immediately seemed to shrivel up and crawl inside his changing body as the changes completed themselves.

Jonny slowly opened his eyes just in time to see a beautiful, form-fitting red dress appear out of black smoke and rest upon every full and beautiful curve of his new body. “Oh my god,” he said as he beheld a beautiful woman. She seemed to be about 28 years old, a blonde bombshell—the classic American woman. She had curves—real curves. Her boobs were spectacular, and her ass was the stuff of dreams. There was just enough flab in her young, beautiful belly to let people know she never cowered from a desert line. “Showtime baby,” she said as she walked from the bathroom.

Jonny emerged again into the restaurant, a place filled with lecherous, rich old men who would kill for a woman like the one Jonny now looked like. Whistles and stares predominated as Jonny strutted his beautiful body down the isle of the restaurant. Men held out money in an effort to buy his companionship, and so did some women. Jonny’s beautiful face lit up when his eyes fell upon his target. He strutted up to the man, his beautiful legs barely covered at al by his short, form-fitting dress.

The man in question was one C. William Minton—one of the wealthiest men in the city. He was an oil magnate who had made millions in the business and also invested heavily in firearms dealers. He had a slow southern drawl, and he enjoyed classic southern cooking—to a fault, really. See, Mr. C. William Minton loved the finer things in life—food, women, and clothes, each being roughly equal in importance. His appetite for food was never-ending. The man stood at about five foot five when he stood at all, and, at 76 years old, many areas of his body had conceded to time in great measure. His relatively modest height was coupled with a girth of some three hundred pounds. He had a double chin and a face that shook and jiggled whenever he talked. Standing was a struggle, and every step made once standing caused a thunderous sound and a hefty jiggle throughout the rest of his body. His belly protruded out before him, and he had—to use a colloquialism—a mighty front-butt that his fine suits were specially designed to hold at bay.

Minton scanned Jonny’s new body up and down upon seeing it. “You bring your purty ass on over here darlin’!” he yelled, having enough money and enough **** that he cared not at al about being heard or seen doing whatever or whoever he wanted. Jonny strutted over and set his curvy form gingerly on the big old man’s lap. Jonny leaned in and got close to the old man, putting his face mere inches from the old man’s horny smile. “Do you like my body?” Jonny asked. “Yes mam I surely do,” Minton said as he used his hands to begin exploring Jonny’s many fine curves. Jonny caressed the man’s face with one hand and rubbed his bloated stomach with the other. “You know what, big boy?” he asked. “What is it sweety pie?” Minton asked, transfixed. Jonny suddenly placed his hand firmly on the man’s belly, and his eyes glowed red, as did those of his companion. The old man’s whole body relaxed, and his head drooped a bit as he seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. “I think I saw the woman over there looking at my boobs as I came over,” Jonny said, motioning to an older woman—probably in her seventies—enjoying the company of a young male model, “and that makes me so sad ‘cause my whole body is just for you,” Jonny declared. “So why don’t you take care of her for me, and when the cops take you, be sure to tell them that the Chameleon told you to do it.” The man nodded, transfixed. “Sure thing baby . . . I’ll be doin’ that right quick,” he mumbled. Jonny stood up slowly as his eyes took on their normal color again. He turned away from the old man as he came out of his mystified, enthralled state. Jonny looked back at him with a smile. “Thanks for being such a good sport,” he said as he strutted off, giving everyone a fine view of his ass.

Jonny got a few steps away and heard a loud voice from behind him. “Them titties is mine!” the southern voice screamed. Then came a single loud gunshot, followed by yelling, the sound of a scuffle, and crashing glasses. Jonny smiled. “All in a day’s work,” he said as he exited the restaurant.

As Jonny glided through the night like a killer angel, his form shifted back into the familiar, less curvy body of the male he’d first possessed. The form-fitting red dress was replaced again by a black suit that his vessel had worn in the past. Jonny found Lisa waiting in the car outside. He opened the door the luxury vehicle and climbed inside, sliding his stolen body across the expensive leather seats. The red-headed Lisa looked at him. “What took you?” she asked. Jonny laughed. “Just having a little fun . . . you’ll hear about it on the news later,” he said. “Say,” Jonny began, “where would a young on-the-town man like myself go to have a bit more fun at a time like this?” Lisa paused for a minute. “Well, Master,” she began, “a young man like yourself would probably go straight home on a night like this and try to make his way through algebra homework rather than having entranced older women drive them about in their cars,” she said. “Ouch!” Jonny said with a chuckle, “I see being my plaything has not stripped you of your wit, though I may strip you of some other stuff later,” he said as he eyed her low-cut dress. “My wit—“ she said, “would you have it any other way?” “I would not,” Jonny answered.

“There’s a charity fundraiser at a house on the water,” Lisa said, “one of the senior partners at my law firm is throwing it—his house makes mine look like a sandbox, which is not easy. I could get us in. There are sure to be plenty of sexy rich people of varying ages with their own fun toys eager to show off their money,” she said, “or we could go to my home. You could come to work with me tomorrow . . . have some fun there,” Lisa answered. Jonny paused for a moment.