Dredd?!

Ivy smirks in triumph at your eager admission, her hips never stopping their relentless rhythm. “I love seeing an arrogant chauvinistic womaniser turned into the very thing he looks down on. The great Bruce Maddox, wealthy misogynist turned into a hot little mewling quim,” Ivy gloats as you nod at whatever she says. She reaches down and grabs your swollen clit, squeezing it gently as she continues to fuck you with the dildo. You scream, the pleasure too much to bear, and cum hard. Your pussy spasms around the plastic cock, juices dripping down onto the floor as you writhe beneath her.

As your orgasm subsides, you look up at her with a mix of awe and fear. You can feel the addiction setting in, the need for more, the desire to please her no matter the cost to your former self. Ivy takes the dildo out and stands up, looking down at your trembling, cum-covered body with a smug sense of power. She wipes her own pussy off with the dildo before placing it back in her bag, leaving you feeling empty and used.

“We’ll do this at least once every day, Bree. You’re going to love it, being trapped like that,” Ivy says with a wink looking at your disheveled body on the store room floor. She pulls on her panties, her movements slow and deliberate, making sure you can see every inch of her body. She’s smug in her dominance, reveling in the power she holds over you. You watch her, your new eyes hungrily devouring her every curve, feeling a mix of envy and submission. She’s the epitome of female beauty and strength, and you’re just a toy for her amusement.

You nod eagerly, your mind hazy with the thought of being her plaything. You never knew how much you could love being dominated. Every time you cum reinforces your place as a slut, a little fuckpet. It’s a role you never knew sought but it feels right in your fuck brained state.

But as Ivy leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind her, you’re left with nothing but the sticky aftermath of your encounter. You struggle to sit up, your body feeling foreign and weak. As the orgasmic fog begins to clear, reality crashes down around you. You are a man! What have you done? It had felt so good. Damn this body! But you’re still horny. The need to cum again is like a siren’s call that you can’t ignore.

You stumble over to the mirror on the wall, staring at the reflection of the bimbo you’ve become. You run your hands over your new curves, feeling a pang of both disgust and arousal. What happened to your male dignity? It seems you’re just another slut for the taking. The very thought makes you want to scream, but instead, you find yourself playing with your breasts, feeling the need to cum once more. It’s confusing. You don’t want this this, but your body seems to crave it.

Your thighs are sticky with John’s cum and your own juices. You look around for something to wear, something to cover up your nakedness. You dress in your overlarge clothes, cinching your belt tight, rolling up your pant bottoms, carrying your mis sized shoes.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the walk of shame back through the bar. You can feel the eyes of every person on you as you make your way to the exit, each one seemingly judging you for your newfound femininity and the events that led to it.

Dredd suddenly blocks your path. “Bruce Maddox. Look at you…” he is attractive and intimidating.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, the weight of his gaze on your new body like a physical ****. Dredd the was also a gambler - a character you had encountered in the game, and now here he was, in the flesh. Or at least, in the flesh of your new reality.

"I'm gonna get right to the point," he says. "I have something you can do for me. I have a stripper who just called in sick, and I need someone to dance to entertain my boys."

"Uh... d- dance?" Wait, that was what he said when you lost at cards as a dude and couldn’t cover your bets. Holy shit. This was the gang bang scenario!