Dale makes a Rook-ie Mistake

"Oh, you are so dead!" Mike growled, his eyes flashing with barely contained rage as he plotted his ****. Sculpting the board he wanted, just as the game was sculpting him.

“Knight, B4”

“Bishop, E3”

“Knight, C2”

Dale smirked. “Bro, what are you playing here?”

“Oh you must not have read the rules. You are in check.”

As Mike spoke Bimbo Wheel began to spin. “Wait What? NonononononoNooo!”

Mike smiled as he leaned back in his chair, his tits jiggling incessantly as he did. “Cant take the heat get out of the kitchen. Hahaha.” “Dont be so keen to talk sugar tits.” Replied Dale.

The wheel slowed and came to a stop on “Hair - Platinum blonde Locks”

“Awww man, you got off lucky.” Groaned Mike. “Hahaha? Just my hair? This is great!” Dale reached up to his head to feel his hair spurt out of his head. Golden locks gracefully formed, draping his head in the gorgeous locks of a centerfold model. “Dude I must look like a surfer dude.” “Yeah, something like that, scoffed Mike. Anyways your still in check, and that timer is counting down.” “Oh shit!” Dale tried to make a move. “Uhhhhh uhhhhhhhhh here.”

“King to D2.”

‘Dangit’ thought Mike. He had hoped Dale would have captured his knight with his queen, leading to an easy capture with his bishop….. a surefire way to throw breasts onto Dale’s cocky chest, only at the expense of having his arms and torso transformed. But it did leave another window open….

“Knight, A1 I got your rook.” Chided Mike as he used his piece to knock down the Thicc leg and ass shaped rook piece.

“Not so funny now, is it?" Mike smirked, folding his arms across his ample new chest. The movement sent his oversized breasts jiggling distractingly, but he tried to ignore their weighty bounce and focus on Dale's impending karmic comeuppance. "Looks like you're about to get some serious junk in your trunk, bro!"

“Dang man maybe you are actually good at CH—- ahhhhhhsssss.” His dismissive retort morphed into a startled yelp as he felt a sudden, intense pressure building in his lower body. Dale looked down just in time to see his hips and thighs start to swell alarmingly, straining the seams of his jeans to the breaking point.

"Holy shit, it's actually happening!" Mike cackled, watching with vindictive delight as Dale's lower half ballooned outward. Skinny legs thickened and lengthened into toned, shapely stems that would make any hot-blooded man weak in the knees. Narrow hips flared into an exaggerated hourglass curve, while his once flat ass grew rounder and perkier by the second.

RRRRRIP!

The sound of denim tearing filled the air as Dale's expanding rump proved too much for his poor, overstressed jeans to handle. His magnificent new bubble butt burst free, wobbling and jiggling obscenely as it strained against the confines of his suddenly scandalous booty shorts.

"Dude!" Dale wailed, his face flushing beet red as he frantically tried to cover his exposed cheeks. He attempted to stand, only to promptly lose his balance and topple back into his chair with a graceless "oof!" His unfamiliar new proportions had thrown off his center of gravity, leaving him awkwardly sprawled with his long, smooth legs splayed.

"Hah! Not so easy to walk with that wagon you're draggin', is it?" Mike taunted, openly ogling the way Dale's pert new ass and thick thighs jiggled with every movement. "Maybe you should've thought twice before making fun of my tits, you thicc bitch!"

Dale could only sputter and blush in mortified silence, trying in vain to tug his shredded shorts down over the shelf of his plump booty. This game was rapidly spiraling out of control, and the smug look on Mike's face made it clear he had no intention of showing mercy.

It was time to stop playing around and dominate this match...