Bill needs a new piece of ass

“It can’t be that bad…” you consoled your friend over the phone. Bill had just broken up with his partner of three years. “I always thought she was wrong for you. I mean she wasn’t even your type… right…?” You were feeling a little… off… vague. “What was your type… anyway?” You felt yourself zoning out.

In retrospect you should have seen the signs. But… hindsight is always twenty twenty. You’d just acquired blank slate syndrome when your best friend was describing his ideal girl over the phone.

“You know. Petite, big breasted and cute as hell. I could go an Indian lass. I want a girlfriend that likes to shag, is kinky and submissive and into roleplay. Funny. Smart. Passionate about things. And loves giving head.”

You nod distantly as you feel yourself changing to become the exact girl he’d described, your male body becoming very female!

Your vision swam as your body began to shrink and soften, your chest swelling with a sudden weight that made you gasp. You looked down at your hand, noticing it was smaller, more delicate, and had painted nails. The sensation of your skin was darker, softer and more sensitive to the touch. Your voice had become a breathy whisper, much like the sultry tones of a shy young girl. You were Indian!

Panic began to set in as you realized the full extent of the transformation. You were now Bill's ideal girlfriend, a living embodiment of his desires, down to the very last detail. Your mind raced with the implications of this. What about your own life, your own preferences? Would they be overridden by his suggestions?

You tentatively touched your new, voluptuous breasts, feeling the unfamiliar sensitivity. Your skin was a warm caramel hue, a stark contrast to the pale complexion you were used to. You tried to speak, but your voice was unrecognizable—sultry and feminine, with a faint hint of an accent. You took a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself, but the sudden tightness of your waist and the swish of fabric around your hips only served to heighten your anxiety.

“Yeah. Fuck it. I just want a nymphomaniac bimbo that wants to fuck all the time…” Bill blurts.

You freeze, horrified. You didn’t mean for this to go so far. But as his words hang in the air, you feel a strange warmth spread through your body, a sudden surge of desire that’s alien and overwhelming. Your mind feels foggy, your thoughts consumed by the need to please, to satisfy. Your body responds with a shiver of excitement, your new breasts bouncing with the movement. The panic starts to recede, replaced by an overwhelming need to be sexually available to Bill, to fulfill his every whim.

You feel the changes set. “Oh shit…” you murmur, your thoughts hazy with lust and confusion.