Bethany, bachelorette - Part 3

My eyes blinked lazily in the soft morning light. Through the window of our Swiss chateau, the dream-like dawn cast fuzzy shadows through the branches of the surrounding trees. Below my second story room, the alpine clearing was today blanketed in a fresh layer of snow, and if one squinted through the rolling mists beyond, nestled between two peaks on either side, a verdant plain lay beside a placid blue lake. Sighing at the lovely sight, I pulled myself upright and stretched, before leaving the warmth and safety of the Boob Bed.

Despite the chill outside, our rustic getaway was kept warm and cozy by the chateau's many amenities. In my room alone there was the Slut Lamp, the Bitch Chair, The Vanity of Whores, and the Dual Cunt Chandelier--which could use some repairs, it had started to leak--to say nothing of the vibrant arse-work posed along the walls. The opulent decor gave the room an air of Old World majesty while still altogether functional and catering to modern convenience. For example, all of the furniture worked over time to keep the boudoir nice and toasty, yet the chocolates on the vanity had only melted a little on the left bottom. I pulled the covers back over the queen sized Boob Bed, taking time to fluff its pair of massive fleshy pillows (obviously large than the boobs on my chest, but not dissimilar in shape). Once its nipples were nice and pointy, I thieved a chocolate from the vanity and draped my nightgown on a balletically stretched arse-work before heading to the room next door.

A chorus of Fanny Taps quickly made the adjoining bathroom nice and steamy, the hum of their release came out as breathy moans, all with a single turn of a dial. The spouts were arranged above the bath, near the ceiling, and all different colors: ranging from bronze to black to pastel and even alabaster. But what they all had in common was that they were round, fat, and jiggled excitedly as the water came out of them. As the mirrors fogged, I daintily stepped into the marble tub and reached for the nearby Soap Girl to start my daily cleansing. On the left wall, the soggy brunette's dull eyes stared ever forward, unblinking and unmoving in the spray, and her arms were perched in a pose reminiscent of a begging dog. I extracted a bar of soap from the small scaffolding set into her open jaw, careful not to get tangled in the brass chain that attached it to her head, but before I started rubbing the bar on my arms and torso, I took a whiff. Mmm, it smelled of lavender and vanilla.

"Uh-oh" I tittered, as a second party enter the shower. "Someone's up early." I laughed as my Alpine benefactor suddenly pushed his cock and balls through the glory hole in the center wall. I could swear I almost caught the Soap Girl quivering, dead eyes now alight and darting imperceptibly to witness the turgid intruder at full-mast. Obliging said intruder, I slipped the soap back into Soap Girl's mouth and bent at the waist before shimmying my pussy onto his "Good Morning" wood. Bracing myself on the closed glass doors, I humped and splashed for a good three minutes as the jets of water poured down around me. Although enthralled by the stimulation, I of course made sure to cry out loudly enough for him to hear me through the walls.

"Alright, you, that's enough for now," I called out, pulling him out before I had a full-on orgasm. "You're going to spoil my breakfast!" I was teasing, but it was partly true. Enough time spent on that dick, and my brain went pretty stupid. "Best to save that for tonight," I thought with a smile, "or who am I kidding this afternoon, lol."

"I'll meet you in the garden," I flirted, giving him a few loving tugs for the road, and with nary a word he exited the glory hole with a wet squelch. Squeezing shampoo and conditioner from Soap Girl's modest chest (I guess even in Europe, they give you the travel size toiletries) I washed my hair and switched the Fanny Taps to dry mode. Watching them spin on the walls above, the six apparatuses lowered and tilted so the Hair Towels were low enough to reach. The multi-colored strands swayed about my dripping body with the eerie sound of several women drunkenly laughing. The noise was oddly infectious and I couldn't help but join in as dry mode used its twelve appendages to tickle my hard-to-reach crevices with its hairs. All the same, I wrapped myself in two normal towels from the Towel Wrack, causing it to sigh a little as I withdrew the Turkish cotton from the chain between its nipples. And heading back out, I heard the Fanny Taps spinning back into place, the giggling becoming muffled as they sunk into the wall.

Ready to get dressed, I traipsed barefoot back through my bedroom, enjoying the feel of the wooden floor on my still damp feet. The walk-in closet was downright massive and fit for a monarch, but sadly I hadn't brought nearly enough to fill it. The trip to Switzerland was last minute, and my travel partner told me to pack lightly. Oh well, he let me pick a few items from the in flight catalogue and spared no expense having them brought to our location. He can be so thoughtful that way.

"HELLO, is someone there? PLEASE, WE'VE BEEN TRAPPED IN HERE ALL NIGHT!"

Now my one complaint is that the closet had something of an odd acoustics. Any noise I made, whether opening the door or especially going through the clothes, kind of reverbed back to me in strange and at times unsettling ways.

"PLEASE (sob) MY ARMS HURT. I CAN'T BE HERE! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!"

I know, I know, hashtag first world problems. My Swiss chateau has a closet that makes weird noises, guhhhh. But forgive a girl for wanting it to be as perfect as everything else. The new clothes had arrived, thankfully: one a slinky Japanese-American get-up, another from an Italian designer with a hint of red, and third a lithe Russian yellow.

"She can't hear, you Maggie--"

"WHY CAN'T SHE HEAR US? HELLO, HELLO, PLEASE (bawl) PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO GET US OUT OF HERE."

"She's the woman of the house, Margaret. She's not going to hear us. As far she knows, we're just objects."

Still in my towel I surveyed the three outfits, trying to decide which one I wanted to wear. They were chained to the walls on various sides of the closet, their top straps hoisted above of them and their gowns manacled to the floor. It was for security reasons, I was told, but if I wanted one I could just select it using the touch screen to the left and don it at my leisure. I guess the Russian one looked warm, though let's be real, was I honestly going out in the snow today? I had plenty of things to do indoors, if you catch my drift. Maybe the one with the raven highlights at the top...?

"LOOK PAETON, she's looking at me! She's looking at me! YES, HELLO, CAN YOU HEAR ME? My name is Margaret. Margaret Uchida. I'm a famous model--okay mostly print work--but I've done a few fashion shows! My family has money! All of us do. That's Paeton Di Rossi."

"Maggie, come on, just (sigh)...buongiorno, lady who keeps us in her closet."

"And that blonde over there, she's ummm..."

"Slut Muffin,"

"That can't be your real name,"

"It's the only one that matters now, child."

With a sharp intake of breath, I looked up at the dress in sudden realization. Had I seriously worn kimonos twice last week? I put my hand to my head. Oh god, if I wear that style again, he's going to think I'm such a weeb. I mean, I do like watching anime, but we haven't had that conversation yet!

"You see, you see, I think we're getting through to her! Come on, keep looking at me! YOU HAVE TO HEAR US. I DON'T WANT TO BE TRAPPED HERE ANYMORE."

"Sorry Margaret, I think she's going for the redhead."

Italian it is. I walked over to the touch pad and unchained the dress I wanted. Hangers would've been simpler, but choosing clothes on a computer did make me feel like Cher in "Clueless".

"Awh my wrists. Ooh...my ankles. That's gonna sting. Alright, how can I help you, lady?"

"RUN FOR IT PAETON!!"

"I...don't think I can, Maggie."

Ignoring the closet's lumbering, I dropped my towel and pulled the dress's top straps around my waist. I had to bend it in half, adjusting the red part so it sat right on my booty. With another quick tap on the pad, the outfit started to conform to my figure, and I to it. There was a sound like a vacuum cleaner that made the dress almost squirm, as its top part started to merge with my waist and buttocks. As the straps' bony foundations plus some extra round padding began to recede into my legs, the dress's lower half started to buck and shake wildly as though something was caught inside. The red part was pulled upward and stretched like a horse's tail, before moving down the dress's spine like a zipper. With a sudden ****, I was pulled backwards, falling atop the dress's unique train, but eventually it stopped. Using a shelf, I pulled myself upright to look in a nearby mirror and was astounded by the results.

My ass was now a good foot and half behind me attached to a second pair of legs and an entire extra vulva! My hair had turned scarlet, and to complete the look, a matching scarlet hairdo sat atop above my rocking derriere. Flowing down in a luxurious mane to my ankles, I gave it an experimental swish, shocked to discovered I could control the extra legs and even the second torso in the middle! Moving my hands about these strange new appendages, I mewled in delight at the fascinating sensation of fingering two pussies at once, and with a laugh I started to trot around the room, moving as easily on four legs as I did on two. I propped my front legs up on either side of the mirror and, balanced on my back legs, observed the smooth second tummy that was now attached to my body. This was not what I expected when I looked in the catalogue, but who care? That man of mine must have gone above and BEYOND. I checked the touch pad to read the outfit's trendy label: "Humantaur", I wonder what else they sell?

I remained in the closet as I put on my face and curled my hair--debating whether or not I should curl my tail hairs as well, oohoohoo-- but the closet noises were rapidly becoming unbearable.

"OH GOD, WHAT THE FUCK? Oh god, oh god, oh god, poor Paeton. Oh god, oh god, oh god, Muffin, IS THAT WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO US?!!

"If we're lucky."

"SHE'S INSIDE HER!!"

It had to be the material from the other clothes, because this was just insane. What chateau would allow this? The noise was an avalanche hazard. Scanning the touch pad, I found a red disposal button for the Japanese American dress, and figuring I wasn't likely wear it on the trip, gave it a quick tap.

"NO NO, what's she doing now?! Why's my body--GUAH!"

With a grinding sound, the dress folded in on itself, its lower end shoved into its pouty pink hole at the top. The floor below the closet slid away, opening up to a long chute where the balled up dress was unceremoniously dropped, the chains detaching all at once. The mass of fabric disappeared I didn't knows where, but the touch pad rather unhelpfully read, "Redistributing for use in Statuary Corridor." Finally the room was blessedly quiet, as I turned to the Russian ensemble.

"Tch tch tch, enjoy it while it lasts, girl. You may the favorite, for now, but some day soon, you will be in my place. The master never plays with his toys for long."

I chill ran down my spine all the way to my tail. I could swear that last noise, sounded like--never mind. I should get rid of the Russian dress, too.

I made my way down the stairs, sauntering into the grand foyer. The chateau was so beautifully upholstered, the banisters alone were lined with gorgeous blushing feminine bodies. Lazily brushing my hand across their connected curves, I switched to a gallop as I reached the foot of the stairs, letting my breasts bounce and jiggle and as I cantered to my destination. Passing the grand Bimbo Table in the dining room, the Filing Twats in the study, taking a right at the music room and its wealth of Horny Instruments, I finally made it to the greenhouse and our agreed upon rendezvous.

With his back turned, my beloved tended to the garden. Despite the newly fallen snow, the glass conservatory remained hot and humid, a display of defiance before the alpine chill. The enclosed area ensconced a small jungle of exotic plants, and I approached a pink Clitoria Blossom to breath in its sweet scent.

"Mmm," I sniffed, pulling her stems aside to inhale her moist petals, "such a strong scent, and her fruit's coming in nicely, too."

My back half wiggled in excitement, as I rubbed my twenty toes in the soft grass. My gardening partner had disappeared while I was smelling the flower, but I heard rich laughter coming from the far side of the Titty Tree. Leaving the blossom behind, I trotted to past the red Babe-shrooms, through the patch of Black Dollias, and splashed in the pond where we kept our pet mermaid--she had three rows of tits, just like I'd imagined as a girl. There in that slice of paradise I found him, dressed in a white oxford shirt and suspenders, a wide brimmed hat shielding his face.

"Ah, you're wearing the dress I got you," he said, his voice was rich and deep.

"Yes!" I replied, bending at the knees. "How do you LIKE IT?" And so saying jumped at the man, tackling him to the ground.

We laughed and cuddled, lying down in the grass. His face was still so hard to see in the light, but I wrapped all six limbs around him, pulling his soft head to my bosom.

"Hahaha (sigh) I love you, Boe," I said as I kissed his hair.

But my partner seemed to freeze up. "Boe? Who's Boe?" he asked. And the vision began to fade.

Snapping his fingers in my face, Brian repeated the question. "Boe? Who's Boe?" he asked as the musty smell of Kooky's assaulted my senses.

"Oh, is that her fiance?" the Brit jeered, his mustached face still way too close for comfort. I heard someone confirm with a quick "yes", but my vision was still too hazy to make out who. I shifted awkwardly in my chair as Brian steadied me, before I ran my hands down the back of my black dress, looking for something.

"Same...ass," I said, bleary-eyed and blinking.

"What?" The Brit choked, a tinge of irritation in his voice.

"Same ass," I tried again feeling my bubbly haunches, "only...two legs."

Brian threw his head back and laughed, and I felt a bit sick. Pharrah was in the seat opposite me, spectacles still perched on her button nose, as she stared at us intently. Her long fingers rolling a tan shape back and forth on our almost empty table. I realized after a moment was just her suction cup dildo now lying on its side. My eyes were still adjusting to the dingy bar.

"Yep, and same two legs," chortled Brian, rubbing and squeezing my healthy thighs. "But what legs they were! I gotta say Bethy-Bride, that was some truly excellent fantasizing. And to think you're so close to being done. SO CLOSE. Top marks, you know, aside from the last part."

"She's still thinking she going to marry Boe," said Pharrah. I cocked my head in her direction, suddenly noting a length of colored twine that went up from her chair to the ceiling. Following it, I saw that it was attached to the inflated clown balloon by the knot at it lips, the giant thing propped up against the roof, like a weather balloon primed to ascend skyward. Madison and Val were no longer in the room, but Brian was resting his feet on a newly collapsed Butt Coaster just to my left.

"For now, Pharrah faucet, for now," the mustached man replied drolly.

"Why her anyway?" the nerdy girl asked, pointing her dildo in my direction.

Brian started to respond, then looked flummoxed for a moment, before coughing to clear his throat. "I, uhh, (cough) I don't know what you mean."

"I saw your little Euro-trash fantasy, thanks to that light show on that phone," Pharrah answered, waving the sex toy around like a teaching baton. "You could have any woman you want. Make any woman you want. Why Bethany, why even be here?"

"Um sorry to interrupt," I butt in, a bit confused and frankly a little put out that they were talking about me as though I wasn't there, "but I thought you couldn't talk without saying, 'I suck dick'."

Brian chuckled. "We found a couple of countermeasures while you were out," he clarified with a momentary glance.

"I can either get it out of my system," Pharrah affirmed, and as if to demonstrate started to rapidly repeat, "I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick-I-suck-dick."

"Or, she can enjoy 'that other thing' she's always talking about," said Brian, wickedly gesturing for me to peer over the side of the table.

Standing on shaky legs, I leaned over and found none other than pig-tailed Ms. Talli sloppily going at my ex-roommate's box. Her tongue was a bit unfocused after all the daiquiri she'd had, but she kept at it with an ambition I didn't think the college girl could muster. Coincidentally she was also the source of the balloon string, with her arms and legs tied behind her back like someone's fun house parody of a rope bunny. The rainbow rope not only kept the off-brand sailor scout hog-tied but miraculously held her aloft, causing her to float off the ground while she drunkenly cunnilingussed. The ornate loops around her chest were cinched with a certain artistry, and she did look oddly comfortable despite her levitating bondage.

"Somebody IS licking me," Pharrah enthused, as she grabbed Talli by the pigtails. Using them like handlebars, she drove Val's niece toward her pointed clit, the bratty woman slobbering and kissing with abandon. Muffled by Pharrah's plaid skirt and thighs, I could almost make out Talli saying something to the effect of "LIKE (slurp) BEST BAR EVAR," but I couldn't be sure.

"I actually made her smart enough that once Pharrah-nerd had those going for her, she's turned out to be a pretty good conversationalist," continued Brian as I returned to my seat.

"I think I just (whoa mama, mmm) missed a few of the key rules you gave the rest of the bridesmaids," Pharrah said while adjusting her glasses and hair, "but you never answered the question. Why her?"

"Oh Pharrah darling, when you've been around the block as many times as I have, you learn to spot what's special. What's real! In this world of such...artificial filth. You can't just build-a-barbie every other night and expect it to fulfill you. You need creativity, bit of resistance, and fertile soil, to borrow a metaphor from our little garden," Brian pontificated, pointing at me for effect.

"You sure it's not because she had a little veil, and a little crown, and you couldn't stand the thought of some sweet tail going off the market?" the oral sexed intellectual pressed.

"I've been with plenty of married women," Brian answered dismissively.

"But she's not married, she's a Bride-To-Be," Pharrah admonished, emphasizing each syllable, "there's a difference to the fragile male ego, no matter how powerful it gets."

I wasn't sure what they talking about, but Brian's garden comment had set my head spinning. I was suddenly awash with memories from a half-remembered dream. A chateau with women-shaped furniture, a woman's legs that I sniffed like flowers, a shower made of girl butts stuck in the walls, and a closet full of clothes. Only those weren't clothes...

"Those were people," I gasped pulling Pharrah and the Brit from their discussion, "In Switzerland, I had people chained up in my closet."

"See? She's a smart one, and out of the box I might add," retorted Brian unfazed. "Unlike you, Pharrah, who's greatest calling in life was to clean the pipes in the men's bathroom, Bethany is figuring it out all by herself. Proof I know how to pick 'em."

"Mmm hmm," Pharrah tutted, clearly unconvinced.

"That's right, Bethany," Brian said to me, taking my hands in his, "you'd be surprised how many things in life are actually people. Or more accurately, how many people in life are really just things," he said with a smile.

"What did I do to them?" I said, my voice quavering as I remembered the folded up screaming girl, the blonde telling me I was next, and the redhead who...became my extra legs.

"Oh nothing yet, darling" replied the mustached Brit, patting my palms affectionately, "that was just an imaginative exercise, brought on by yours truly. A little test of the mind, which you passed by the way!"

"Except for the last part," interrupted Pharrah.

"I can--put you--back in the wall," Brian hissed. "Is that what you want?"

"No I'll stay here with the slut eating me out, thaaank you," pouted Pharrah, humping Talli's face again.

Panicking I started to get up from the table, but Brian grabbed me by both shoulders, staring deeply into my darting eyes. "But that's what you have to look forward to. Forget the closet girls. Forget the boyfriend whathisname. We are better than all of them. You especially. And that chateau off in the Alps, it very well could be REAL. It could be yours. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

I paused. His argument made some kind of twisted sense. It would indeed be quite wonderful. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen on Earth. I was a toned and healthy, sexually adventurous woman with a huge pair of tits and an ass to match. Finding a powerful partner, who could look after my needs and then some, well what else could a girl want...right? I didn't need to sweat the specifics. Brian was right, I was better than all of them easily. And if I didn't think about it too hard, maybe they all were just clothes? The closet made weird noises, as I recall. I didn't do anything wrong. I just partook in a little slice of paradise that was mine to enjoy. Which Brian said could become real. I would do anything for it to be real.

"How...um how do I make it real?" I blushed, meeting Brian's intense gaze before settling back down.

Brian's mustache curled with his toothy grin. "It's perfectly simple, really," he said, unclasping his hands from my shoulders. "I have the power to make it for you. Just one more present and one last drink, and everything will be perfect. Ah, speak of the devil, and she will appear!"

Turning the corner, Val entered the room, and in a display of strength I would not have expected from the bare-chested blonde aunt, she was carrying two people, one under each arm. With a grunt, the bartender dropped both down on the floor in front of us, the first being my maid of honor Madison still in just a bra but carrying a bright blue box, and the second being our limo driver, a middle-aged Mexican woman named Cynthia.

"You were right, she tried asking the driver for help once she exited the bar," Val said, stretching her sore arms before a dropping pair of crushed metal cellphones onto the ground. "Luckily I caught them before they could called the police."

"I did ask you not to use YOUR phones," Brian nodded sagely, "ever the wildcard, Madison."

Madison looked away, staring at the floor dejectedly, but Cynthia started to yell.

"You are a bruja!" The limousine driver cried out gesturing at Val, "And YOU, what are you doing to these sweet girls?"

"Mmhmm, yep, not interested," said Brian flatly and, producing his ever present yet still unimportant phone, he added, "Now go be an obedient, YOUNG chauffeur who's going to wait for us in the parking lot. And is also hot."

The sexy Latina preened and dusted off her bright red uniform after shamefully falling on the floor. "Sí señor," Cynthia said with a wink, adjusting her cleavage so her nice round tetas stood out above her ensemble's golden buttons. Fixing her red cap with the company's brass chain logo, the chauffeur minced on long swaying legs out of the private room, careful to roll her hips in Brian's direction. With a finger to her lips, she offered one last reply, "but don't wait too long, my motor's already running." And with a high kick, she sped away.

Brian chuckled while Madison approached me, climbing into the chair at my side before timorously holding up her gift. "Sorry I left it in the limo," she said, nervously, "I really hope you like it. Please don't be mad at me if it's not what you want." I smiled at her sympathetically, before Brian interrupted. "Oh I'm sure she'll have some opinions, she has a chateau to win! Now do you remember our rules Bethany?"

I nodded slowly. "When I open the present, tell Madison exactly what I think of her then take a drink from the Perfect Woman Stout." the last part somehow didn't feel as dire as it did when I received the other presents, as though my compulsion to follow that rule had somehow lifted.

"Precisely," answered Brian as he finished typing on his phone, "do that and everything I have to offer is yours. But it's all on you this time, Bethany. You decide if you take that final sip."

"Really trying to prove a point, huh?" Pharrah ventured sarcastically, but Brian told her it was time to put the dildo back down her throat and not to take it out still she had cum six times. Pharrah rolled her eyes but agreed.

Phone at the ready, Brian started to chant, "What's in the box? What's in the box?" Val the bartender joined in, followed by Talli and a **** Pharrah. Soon I could even hear voices from the rest of the bar, echoing the chant like some choir of the damned. Madison hunched over, her head in her hands as I started to tear the blue wrapping paper. Inside the box was a diamond necklace with a heart shaped pendant in the middle. I started to pull if from the box--but recoiled in horror when I realized what it actually was. The box was attracting flies, the revolting smell of roadkill now filling the bar. Attached to the string I was holding was a rotting opossum, gingerly scooped into the box for this very purpose. I shook my hands in disgust, trying to get the bits of fur and viscera I had touched off my fingers. Madison covered her face, but Brian for his part was practically hooting.

"OH NO," our last minute addition guffawed. "What a terrible present, Madison!" He laughed uproariously, wiping a tear from his eye. "Well, Bethany I'd love to hear your thoughts about your idiotic maid of honor."

I steeled myself, having found a napkin to wipe my hands, before closing the box's lid. It did little to hide the writhing carcass or stop its noxious fumes. But I turned to Maddie, thoughts racing through my head, and opened my mouth to speak. But laughter came out.

"Not the reaction I was expecting," Brian said, pausing in his own hysterics.

"Ha ha ha ha, cause I prefer the dead ones to the creepy stuffed kind," I laughed, shaking my head at Madison, peeking out from behind her hands.

"Yeah, like how you'd take me to see the crushed rabbits on our way back from Geography," Maddie said, now gesticulating excitedly, "I never wanted to go, but you would **** me and make fun of me every time I screamed."

"(Gasp) remember that one I poked with a stick?"

"AAAAAAAAAH," Maddie scream-laughed shaking her hands wildly.

"What the actual fuck? There's no way I coded this in," Brian hastily checked his phone.

"Do you like it?" Maddie asked, and I socked her in the side.

"No Maddie, ha ha ha, but I love you," I answered truthfully and pulled her into a hug.

"Really?" she responded with a sad smile, "I've been so worried about the wedding, and everything changing, and how much I keep messing things up! And worst of all, that you'd be spending all your time with Boe and his family and no longer want to hang out with me."

"Jesus, Maddie, of course I'll still hang out with you. You're my best friend. Boe's just some guy," and so saying I squeezed her tighter.

"Really?"

"No, he's my future husband," I snorted, but held Maddie close all the same, "but I'll always make time for my maid of honor. She's 'bride or die'!"

"Hell yes, I am," Maddie whooped, tears starting to well up.

"But you're getting me a proper present next week," I said withdrawing from the hug. Maddie nodded fervently over the sounds of Pharrah's second orgasm. "Yeah I was between that and a diamond heart necklace," Maddie replied guiltily, "not sure what possessed me to go with the opossum."

Brian the Brit heaved and groaned. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand while readying his cellphone with the other, he spoke with an air of acidity, clearly annoyed. "Guess I gotta do everything myself, huh?" he said, typing once again. "Let's take it from the top, clearly I was asking for TOO MUCH!"

A few more clicks on his phone and he turned to me, "Bethany, you're really mad at Madison."

I pulled away from my maid of honor, folding my arms in a huff. Madison tried to smile at me, but I averted her gaze, too proud to let her know she had upset me.

"Mhmm, yes, very nice," Brian watched the two of us expectantly, but we just sat in silence.

"Well?" Brian sputtered at me, his eyes popping. "Aren't you going to say something about her?"

I shifted in my seat to look at Brian, my back to my annoying friend and whispered conspiratorially, "Sorry I'm a bit angry with Madison right now, but don't worry we'll work it out in a couple of days."

"A couple of WHAT, NO!" answered Brian spitting, before leveling his phone once again. "Bethany, you HATE Madison right now, and you NEED to make sure she knows!"

Heaving a sigh, I turned back around and eyed my anxious maid of honor with a look of disdain.

"Bethany, I'm sorry! It was a bad present, I'm so so sorry," Maddie intoned, reaching for my hands.

I pulled away, before answering haughtily. "It's fine, Madison, just give me some space," and so saying held up my arms as a barrier.

"Alright let me know when you want to talk," she replied respectfully and started to move from her chair.

"NO!" shouted the irate Brit, kicking the Butt Coaster beneath the table. "Bethany, you think Madison is awful!"

"Aww, I hear you guys," said Madison shaking her head politely, "I really messed up, and for that I apologize, I can be the worst."

"True," I answered somewhat snarkily. But as Brian leaned in and Maddie blanched, I quickly added, "but we'll get through it like we always do."

Brian gurgled indignantly, in response."You think she's a horrible person!"

"Yeeeah, but she's still my best friend."

"You wish she would die."

"Oof sometimes, but we've been through worse."

"You think Madison is worse than Hitler!"

"Mmm, sure, I guess, but really that just makes me Mussolini," I nodded patiently, waiting for Brian to get to his point.

"GAAAAAAH NO!" raged the Brit, "Alright, two orgasms is enough. Nerd girl tell me what I'm doing wrong!"

The suction cup schlong emerged from Pharrah's lips with a throaty pop, and she dabbed her mouth before attaching the dildo to the center of the table. "I-suck-dick-I suck dick-I-suck-dick, ummmmmmm, female friendships can be incredibly complex, I suppose," the bridesmaid offered, still enjoying Talli's ministrations between her legs. "Whereas men are encouraged to act aggressively with their 'bros', women often have to use other means to maintain a sisterhood. A close-knit friendship is often a mutual give and take, with the two women learning to understand one anothers' cues. It's entirely possible your little device can't override years of strong social interaction and frankly hard-won intimacy, you know, without more 'fertile ground' as you call it," Pharrah lectured spontaneously.

Gritting his teeth, Brian waved his hand with auspiciousness. "I changed my mind, get back on the cock," he countered as Pharrah lunged to get her mouth on the table. The sudden motion dislodged Talli, and she and the balloon spun off to the side the room. "Whee!" she quietly squealed as her bound body bumped against the wall.

"There's gotta be something I put in the command log," Brian said, scrolling. "Maybe since I'm the one who did it, she thinks the opossum is normal?"

From inside my head, I heard a sound like breaking glass, my eyes widening as though taking in the room for the first time. Why did Madison remove her top to fellate this random stranger? How could a bartender produce daiquiri from her boobs? Where did Tahlia and Desiree go? Could they somehow be Talli and the Desi-Clown balloon? Oh my god, why do I have two memories of my body, since drinking that black beer? The same beer Brian had given me as a present!

"Oop, oop oop, shouldn't've struck that one," Brian said, scrambling with his mobile.

"What the hell did you do to us?" I shouted, rising from the table, Maddie jumping to my side.

"Oh, sit down!" the Brit yelled in return, and we both obeyed. "And don't get up till I tell you to," he added, his voice dripping with malice. "What the shit, Bethany?"

"What do you mean what the shit, Bethany?" I responded with more composure than I usually gave myself credit.

"It was all going perfectly! We were going to leave for Switzerland TONIGHT. You'd've had the world on a silver platter! People bending to your whim, to use and discard as you saw fit. BUT, WHAT?! You couldn't think of one mean thing to say about your dumb ass maid of honor? This moron who fouled up your ENTIRE evening by confusing Cool Keys with Kooky's!"

I thought of a hundred different things to say, about how he had behaved tonight, but I instead looked to Madison and furrowed my brow. Turning back to Brian, I said aghast,"Wait, Kooky's isn't real..."

"What, no, what are you talking about?" Brian pressed.

"This IS Cool Keys," I realized, "you just changed it!"

"WHAT NO, I wouldn't lay a hand on Cool Keys," the Brit stammered. "It's a top notch piano bar, their whiskey sours are to die for."

"Yeah I'm not so sure," I continued from my seated position, "if I had to choose between my best friend messing up this badly or some chateau-creating forniphiliac manipulating my mind--even though I still have no idea how you're doing all this--I'd side with my best friend!" I smiled at Madison, still peeved with her, but you know what she smiled back, leaning close and whispering, "bride or die."

Damn straight: "You can't change my mind about that!"

"I'm LITERALLY making you think this Butt Coaster ISN'T human right now!" the mustached maniac snarled, shaking his phone in my face.

"Oh....that's Amy," Val butted in from the side, "she gets paid to do that."

"It's a living," the Butt Coaster answered from the floor.

Brian jumped, squeaking in surprise, but Madison and I offered Amy our compliments. I could never remain in that position for so long, and Madison said she had a spectacular tush. Amy jiggled with pride.

"Alright everyone just SHUDDUHP," the Englishman shrieked in frustration, before pinching the bridge of his nose, and trying to calm down.

"Inhale, exhale, breathe in, breathe out. Stiff upper lip, Daniel, what did Mother used to say?"

"I thought you said you name was Brian?" Madison asked curiously.

"Nyegh, ENOUGH!!"

The furious mystery man held up his hands in a display of exasperation. "Since you won't be joining me, BETHANY, then I'll be leaving you HERE." So saying he punched his fingers on his unimportant phone. Jeez, the guy was downright obsessed with the thing. Worse than Tahlia, for my money.

"You--can--stay--here--at KOOKY'S--with your precious BACHELORRETTE PARTY!" He finished typing, before adding, "because, you do know what we call bachelorette parties in England, right?"

My body seethed and changed, my already endowed figure growing wider and fuller at the curves. My arms started to itch and I felt my shoes evaporate beneath me my feet. Bending in my chair I began to rise as my rear carried my legs off the ground, and the slinky black dress I wore split down the middle, unable to contain my expanding breast meat. My nose and mouth began to stretch, forming a yellow tip I could see between my eyes, and as I opened my lips to protest a hollow "squawk" was all that came out. Startled I clasped my hand to my face, but was then shocked further to find my fingers entirely replaced by a wing of white feathers.

"It's not a HEN DO, ladies, without THE HEN!" cried Brian. He snickered with joy before offering permission to me with a sick generosity, "you can stand up now, Bethany, if you want to see your progress."

I was still mostly human. Just the beak and feathered arms that really stood out. The thong had long since given up, as my cheeks had risen to form a high shelf, producing the facsimile of a chicken tail minus the pointed feathers. My mammaries were rather unbecoming on a half bird, hanging off my chest like swollen stuffed butterballs of their own, but the thing that scared me most was feeling my mind start to slow.

"I like to give the special ones a little time to experience the full effect, you know before this becomes their reality," Brian leered, patting my full ass.

I suddenly doubled over, my abdomen clenching with a strange sensation.

"Oh what's this, Bethy Bird?" Brian, Daniel, whoever he was, cried out again, "is it our hen's time of the month?"

I heaved, my globes of white meat convulsing as my body pushed instinctively. A smooth white disc had appeared at the mouth of my womb. Or cloaca I guess, as some flash of high school biology tried to correct me in my addled state. With a fleshy slosh, the egg fell to the floor, larger and rounder than any chicken egg I'd seen. Landing on the bar floor without cracking, I could just make out a tiny chain curled around a letter "K" emblazoned in brass ink upon the shell. Madison strained to come and help me, but was still bound to her chair, whereas Brian was simply beside himself.

"Uhahahah HAHAHA, my goodness. Well Val you can start serving breakfast now, I offer you the official Kooky's chicken. Use it to your heart's delight.

The bartender shrugged, not entirely sure what to do with me in my sorry state. Feeling words start to leave my head, I spun around trying to find some sort of life preserver in this awful, figurative storm. My eyes settled on the Perfect Woman Stout.

"Bbbb-bub-bub-ba-cawk?" I tried speaking but failed, and shifted to pointing with my beak at the obsidian glass.

"Oh you want the Perfect Woman Stout, now?" Brian answered plaintively, a chuckle escaping his lips, "I guess my perfect woman wouldn't be a chicken, but I'd certainly put her through her paces before taking her anywhere special."

The venomous threat was obvious even to my bird brain. I toddled forward unable to pick up the glass with my wings. Observing this, Brian scooped up the glass as I heard Madison cry out beside me. "You can't go with him, Bethany, you just can't!"

"Let her decide, Maddie-kins, she's a big bird," the mustached Brit grinned. "What's it gonna be: perfect woman with me or birthing omelettes in the Kooky's kitchen?"

The vision of Switzerland weighed heavy on my mind, but so did the weeping Madison. With what little willpower I had, I side-eyed the magic Brit and gave him a nod, allowing him to bring the fatal chalice to my beak. Turning my head, I swung my neck abruptly, knocking the beer from his outstretched hand. Its contents splashed on the floor, his opposite hand, and the cellphone he had clutched in it.

"Shit. Shit. SHIT!!!" responding to each splash in kind, Brian grabbed for the glass, then his soggy hand, before dropping his cellphone to the ground in abject terror.

"Val, I think we need a bag of rice," Madison offered helpfully, but the phone started sparking erratically. The sodden thing shook the shards of glass in the space where it fell, letting off smoke and steam as it danced on the wet floor. I backed away, just as it bellowed digitally before exploding in a shaft of light. A greenish-yellow beam erupted from its shattered screen, blasting a hole in the bar's roof. As the ensuing shrapnel fell, the clown balloon started to float out into the night, taking the tied up Talli along with it.

"Yeah that's why it's good to have a case," mumbled Pharrah her mouth around the table dick.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," swore Brian as he fled, "where's that limo driver? I need to get out of here. Everyone out of my way!"

Using a loose interpretation of the command, Madison stood up from her chair, moving aside to let the fleeing European out into the bar. She knelt by my side as I started to cluck with worry. "You're okay, Bethany, it's gonna be alright," she said.

But it wasn't. I was starting to lose all sense of agency, bawking and wondering when I'd be getting my next insect to crunch.

"Oh look, I found my shirt," Madison tried, "BRIDE SQUAD (nervous laughter) it was under the table." I blinked at her with dull eyes as she held up the piece of fabric, and let out a belabored squawk, much to Maddie's dismay.

"But you're still a chicken," she answered fearfully. "I can fix this, I can fix this," she looked around the room, but the clearly VERY important phone had been reduced to ashes floating in the puddle of black booze.

"Okay, we're going to try something," Madison grimaced, taking the shirt and dipping it in the foul liquid. "I want you to suck on this," and so saying held the damp highlighter pink shirt to my open bill.

I had the wherewithal to peck at it furtively, but my vision had started to tunnel. Swaying on uneasy limbs, I heard Maddie swear, before I tumbled into her arms. My last memories were of the shirt once more covering my beak and someone kissing me desperately through the cloth.

My eyes blinked lazily in the soft morning light. I was in my bed at my apartment without any idea how I had gotten there. Boe sat at the foot of the mattress, playing something on his phone, his tousled curls bouncing when he realized I was awake.

"Hey babe, you feeling alright? I understand it was a rough night," he reached out his hand to stroke my arm, which I was suddenly and uniquely glad to find was covered in smooth skin.

"Ergh um, hey Boe, how'd I get here?" I moaned sitting up a little too fast. He moved to steady me before he answered.

"Madison brought you, she's been here all night," he said. As if summoned, I noticed my maid of honor leaning against the door frame, and she approached the bed, holding up a bottle of water for me to drink. I took it graciously as she settled onto the side of the bed, replacing Boe beside me.

"I'll let you two catch up," Boe smiled, and we shared a quick kiss, before he headed toward our modest kitchen.

"How you doing, chick?" Maddie asked, pulling at my hair.

"That's not funny," I said with a laugh, after downing the entire bottle of water. "But how am I alright?"

"Pharrah's guess is that saliva was somehow part of the PWS--Perfect Woman Stout, that's what we're calling--and kissing me through the shirt made you, well..." she trailed off.

"Your perfect woman?" I asked. I was a little apprehensive looking over my body, but didn't notice anything different. Not even sure if I could.

"Well, one fourth my perfect woman," Maddie explained slowly. I think I understood; my body was thankfully featherless, but I was still bustier than I used to be. Among other things.

"No adverse effects, I hope?" Maddie continued

"No, I think you left me as me," I smiled back.

"Always the next bachelorette party."

"Please no!" I responded and Maddie laughed, but I pressed her head to my pounding forehead and told her, "Thank you, how did you navigate that so well, I think you were the least taken in out all of us."

Madison chewed her lip, before holding up her hands. "I remember him telling us it was all going to be normal, and thinking 'well my normal is a bit panicky anyway' so..."

"So your anxiety protected from...reality changing all around you?" I asked somewhere between awe and disbelief.

"It certainly kept me thinking," Madison shrugged, rubbing at her wrist, "not enough, we still need to find the other girls and who knows where Bri-Daniel took Cynthia. But you know, I did my best."

"You did more than that," I said, looking into her eyes, "you saved my life. Thank you, Maddie."

"Oh umm, of course, don't mention it," she nodded not wanting to meet my eyes.

We sat in silence for a minute, awkwardly before Maddie finally said, "let's get you something to eat, hmm?"

"Ooh that's my cue, I've got a great hangover cure," Boe called from the kitchen, "Honey are you okay with eggs?"

"NOOO," I shouted to the next room, a bit too loudly.

"Babe, anything but that."

Down by a lake, near a tree where the balloon had finally gotten tangled, Tahlia started to pull at the ropes that had carried this far. The resplendent string had thankfully not snapped while she was flying, and now that was she was a bit more lucid, she began to do her best with the knots.

"Hey, can someone help me down from here!" the university student called from the branches. Her ill-fated fellow aeronauts groaned in response.

The pink haired Desi rolled over from her spot in the dirt, reaching to splash some water on her pancake-mixed-up face. Her still bulbous lower half undulated with a wheeze as she suddenly shed the very first blonde girl from the poster. Coughing, the formerly 2-D blonde crawled to Desi's side; the chain between her breasts having caught on a pinned name tag that read, "Kooky's Manager."

Desi's body, now quietly deflating, started to lose its makeup turning the freshwater a soft grey as Desi bathed. The former clown held up one still puffy index finger, staring at it with a sense of wonder.

"I don't know...what the hell...happened last night," she said bobbing the digit on the water experimentally, "but I know one thing: I really, really want to do it again!"

Look I said from the get-go, Bethany was gonna meet a WEIRD stranger!

If you made it this far, thank you. I know happy endings in this genre can be a bit frowned upon. I'm not strictly a fan myself, but blissful ignorance can often leave me just as cold. Hopefully this provided some compelling closure and you landed somewhere on this assembled dartboard of oh-so eclectic fetishes. It's been a lot of fun writing. I dearly hope you enjoyed the read! -Ucake