Driving her wild

Your exchange gathers a small crowd of onlookers who joke and laugh as the cards are dealt. Half the girls want you to see you win and turn Bruce into your slut, and the other half are concerned that Bruce will lose - mostly the girls that he is currently fucking. The game of blackjack goes in Bruce’s favour at first then you get a five card 20 and he busts. “Oh, bust. You’ll have more of the tonight. I promise!” You laugh.

Two more wins, one a natural blackjack with ace and king, and Bruce has lost the game. He swears and goes to grab his jacket. “We had a bet Bruce. Take the pink pill… or everyone will know you can’t make good on your bets…” you threaten.

Bruce angrily takes the pill. He expects to become Bree, the tall and statuesque version of himself on x-change he is familiar with. But that pill is a readily available black market clone pill from south of the border nicknamed Sofia. It’s popular with the cartels and often used to make an example of an enemy - everyone who sees a Sofia know’s she was once a man, but is permanently a bimbo. He doesn’t expect to become Sofia…

The Sofia DNA comes from a busty and petite nympho pornstar named Sofia Chupada. The first hint that the pill is not a basic is Bruce’s loss of height. He is gettin shorter. Much much shorter. Also his cellist is expanding. “Wait! What the fuck type of pill is this?!” Bruce asks as his voice rises two octaves as he speaks. “Oh shit!” He sounds sexy and girlish. His ass swells and he wriggles as his manhood shrinks and disappears forever. Good riddance. She never deserved to have one… her clothes are overlarge excepting around her substantial chest.

The crowd is either shocked or amused at Bruce’s sudden loss is masculinity and stature.

“I’ll drive your Ferrari. Let’s go puta,” you say to Bruce.

Bruce, now looking utterly confused and a bit overwhelmed by his new body, stumbles towards the door. His legs feel wobbly. You follow closely, feeling satisfaction at the man-turned-bimbo. The cool night air hits you as you exit, and you revel in the sensation of power and control you now possess. You saunter towards the sleek red Ferrari Testarossa.

You open the passenger side door, gesturing for "Sofia" to get in. "Remember, babe, I’m in charge. So I’m driving," you say with a smirk, watching the horror slowly dawn in her eyes. She reluctantly slides into the passenger seat, her new, larger breasts bouncing with every move she makes. You can see she's struggling with the unfamiliar body, but she's too proud to admit it. You hop into the driver’s seat, your heart racing with excitement for what's to come.

The engine roars to life as you start the car, the vibrations rumbling through you and sending a thrill down your spine. You rev it up, watching the RPMs climb and listening to the sweet purr that fills the night air. You've always loved Bruce's Ferrari, and now it's yours. You peel out of the parking lot.

“I’ll need directions Sofia…” you say.

“Sofia? Wait is this a Sofia clone pill. One of those ones!?” Sofia gasps. “The one the cartels use to turn their enemies into willing sex slaves!?”

Her mind is racing, trying to remember if she's ever heard of someone coming back from this. You nod with a smug smile and say, “Yep, it’s a special little number from my friend down in Tijuana. He owed me a favor after I helped him with some, let’s say, legal troubles. So he sent me a few. Just enough to make sure that anyone who tries to fuck me over gets a taste of their own medicine. Now, tell me how to get to our mansion. We need a place to settle into your body and new life without any distractions.” You tell her firmly.

“But I never fucked you over…” Sofia, still in shock, mumbles out the directions to her mansion. You listen carefully, committing the route to memory as you drive through the quiet streets. The power you feel in this situation is intoxicating. You've always been the one in charge, but now, you have the body to match. You drive the Ferrari with a newfound confidence, the wind in your hair, and the thrill of the unknown ahead of you.

As you drive, you can't resist the urge to test Sofia’s new body's reactions. You place your hand on her thigh, feeling the smooth, soft skin beneath your pants. She jumps at the sudden contact, but you just laugh, continuing to grope her. Her body responds to your touch. You feel your arousal growing as you squeeze and caress her thigh, moving your hand higher and higher.

Without taking your eyes off the road, you use your free hand to unzip her pants. The zipper glides down easily, revealing the black lace boxers that hug her new, feminine curves. You reach in, your hand brushing against the soft fabric, feeling the heat emanating from her core. Her breathing quickens as you trace your fingers along the waistband, teasing her.

As you continue to explore her body, you feel a wetness seeping through the fabric. You smirk to yourself, knowing that despite her protests, she's getting turned on by your touch. You dip your fingers into her boxers, feeling the soft, trimmed hair and the swollen flesh beneath. Her hips involuntarily buck at the intrusion, and she lets out a small whimper of pleasure. You chuckle, enjoying the power you have over her now.

Her pussy is already soaking wet, begging to be touched. You stroke the outside of her folds, feeling the slickness of her arousal. You can't help but marvel at the sensitivity of her new body, how even the slightest touch sends waves of pleasure through her. You tease her clit, watching as she squirms in her seat, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. But she's lost in the moment, unable to resist the feeling of your hand on her most intimate parts.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," she whines, but the protest is half-hearted, her body betraying her words. She's a bimbo now, and bimbos live for pleasure. You lean over, your own arousal growing, and whisper in her ear, "You're going to love it, trust me." Your breath is hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

Your hand slides under the waistband of her boxers, and you feel the soft mound of her pussy. She's so wet, it's like dipping your hand into a pool of desire. You stroke her gently, watching her face contort in the dim light of the car's interior. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a soft moan. "You're going to be my little slut, aren't you?" You ask, your voice a seductive purr.

Her response is a mix of anger and pleasure, "I... I'm not... not your slut!" But her hips are moving in rhythm with your hand, pushing herself against your touch. You laugh, knowing she's lying to herself. "Oh, you will be," you say, pressing a finger into her, feeling her tighten around it. "You're going to do whatever I want, whenever I want, and you're going to love it."