Shame and Distraction

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HA-HA! I DID IT! I FINISHED WRITING ALL THE CHAPTERS!!!

(well, not exactly all, but I mean "this scene", a big scene involving just one clothing store... damn...)

Jeez... That was tough, folks. Haven't posted since July! And here I am – with a New Year's gift for you (actually, I wanted to whip up a quick chapter, but it turned out like this, somehow)!

Anyway: why so long?

There are a few reasons right off the bat:

1- Tons of ideas. When I started the chapter, I thought: «Oh, what's there to do? The draft is only about a thousand words, I'll rework it, maybe triple the size. Nothing complicated, right?)))» – but it was plenty complicated...

I didn't like one moment in the draft, then another. A character's reaction sucked, or a phrase seemed idiotic... So, I had to think and come up with ways to make it more interesting, to reveal the characters (in a hentai fanfic with bimbofication – yeah, I get the absurdity), and show the transformations properly, not like: "«Wow, what a fat ass!» - and her butt grew by 2 inches." – I hate that stuff... So, yeah.

Basically, I'd grab one idea, and immediately another would pop up, and another, and another, and another... And at one point, I look: that part that was a hundred words in the draft is now clocking in at two to three thousand words. And that's just at the start... You get it – huge volume of ideas, concepts, fetishes, and attempts to tie it all into one logical line.

2- Constant revisions. While working on the next part of the fic, I'd keep changing the previous two. I wanted to make everything beautiful, so I tried to fine-tune ALL the details, emotions, and actions. I don't know if I nailed the balance (I think not...), but I did everything I could, using my perfectionism.

3- Laziness. Where would we be without it? Honestly – I don't blame myself for giving myself a week or two to just lounge around without "work" (writing the fanfic). «I'm the author and I'm doing the work. If I stop writing - no. So I can drag it out as long as I want and as long as needed.»

4- The last part of my epic... Damn, the "Striptease" chapter turned out EXTREMELY voluminous... I always tried to make it as good and detailed as possible, so you wouldn't keep asking «What the hell?!» too often. References for the "dance" were scarce and boring if I had any at all. Seriously. On no porn site did I find a single decent video where the girl didn't repeat the same three moves in the same order, that was long, had a FULL undressing element (from "top" clothes down to nude), and was even a little bit sexy. NOT A SINGLE ONE... So I had to think and guess how to twist Kyoka to make it sexy and logical, plus insert logical transformations along the way, because random ero-moments just popping up – meh (though I couldn't avoid them entirely, but I tried to minimize them)...

5- I moved to a new city for university studies. Made new friends, met my classmates, settled into a new apartment, and all that jazz... In short: real-life stuff piled up too.

So yeah, that's it. I'm no good at making long-term plans, so I don't. Sorry for dragging out my "excuse", but I wanted to pour out my soul, and there's really no one to complain to, so I'm whining to you, readers.

Well, author's note over, enjoy the read!

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Kyoka practically dashed out of Chris' tender, longed – for arms and into the women's lingerie section, even though she had mentioned t-shirts before. She left Chris standing near the rack of jackets. Her heart pounded wildly in her ears. Her breathing was erratic, and between her legs lingered that pleasant moisture born of an inexplicable attraction.

She slipped between the hangers with jeans, peeked out from behind them, made sure no one was watching, and pressed her shoulder blades against the rack. Her heated spine greedily drank in the cold of the metal, trying to smother her owner's shame. It was useless – she barely noticed how a goosebumps rippled across her skin from the sharp temperature shift. Kyoka tried to calm her confusion and shock, inhaling and exhaling cool air, saturating it with the heat of her overexcited body.

«What. The. FUCK. Was. THAT!?», she asked herself, **** to understand the reasons behind her recent actions. It had seemed like a harmless joke on her friend, something to catch him off guard, but then she had done something that caught even her off guard. She ran a trembling palm over her face, then her neck… and remembered how her nose, like that of an aroused bitch, had pressed against Chris' body. How she had inhaled the scent of his skin as if it were the strongest ****. And she wasn't even ashamed of the sniffing itself. It was… pleasant. Disgustingly strange, but pleasant. What shamed her was the realization that Chris might have noticed – might even have felt – how she, like a complete pervert, drank in his lustful aroma, hoping to memorize it completely.

— F-fuck... — she whispered on an exhale. — I-I'm not... I'm NOT a pervert. NO!

And as if to prove herself wrong, heat ran across her skin again. Unbidden ideas bubbled up – to return, to press against him once more, to soak in that wonderful scent, to mingle it with her own... She squeezed her thighs tight, as if to clamp down on the slippery warmth seeping between them. Her lips were dry. Only the upper ones... She licked them and closed her eyes.

«Chris probably didn't notice anything… Probably. Most likely…», she tried to reassure herself, forcing belief.

But, what if he did notice? What if he felt her go limp against him, pressing her whole body close, exhaling into his side with a lustful moan? He had even shuddered slightly when she hugged him tighter, pinning him with her hips. Around her head bloomed an invisible pink halo; the very air seemed to vibrate, marking another shift in her body and life. Her thoughts grew hazy, stuck in something sweet and sticky, and her inner monologue veered off course – from blaming herself to blaming Chris...

«This… This is his fault! It's all because of that wonderful, fucking scent! Masculine, warm... strong... musky and earthy~...». The languid thought struck her and immediately triggered a jolt. Somewhere at the edge of her perception, a small electric spark raced through her nerves, concentrated in her nose. It grew more sensitive; the tiniest shades of smell sharpened – synthetics, cheap perfume, rubber soles. Even the faint deodorant she had caught at the store entrance now stood out clearly. She could smell everything. But all of it paled. Because very close, in a fading trail, lingered him – Chris. His body. Deep, warm, masculine, tinged with something strangely arousing specifically for her, plucking at her soul strings, binding her lust and nurturing it like a sprout.

She jerked her head and immediately sensed something was off with her face. A full-length mirror on the wall could have revealed it – if she had even thought to look. Her nose had become a touch shorter, neater, slightly upturned, cuter. Girlish. Provocative. Like nature itself had tweaked the architecture of her face to match her new "tastes" and ideals of beauty.

— Screw it... — she muttered, scratching the tip of her nose with a finger, not noticing the changes at all.

The sudden itch gave her mind a brief respite, a second to rationalize the situation: «I'm not some horny slut. It's just that he… he has a cool scent. That's not perversion. It's… pheromones, just a "light" interest. It's normal. Yeah. Totally normal. I just have late puberty. That's why I'm clinging to handsome guys like him…». This last attempt to slow her heartbeat worked better than the previous ones, finally helping her pull herself together.

Lifting her head, she realized she had somehow ended up squatting among the jean hangers. Propping her hands on her knees, she rose with a small grunt, brushed off her jeans around her hips, and ran her palms over her waist – finally stopping the trembling. Gradually, her thoughts began to shift. Not abruptly, but slowly, smoothly. In the depths of her psyche, something unfolded: freer, bolder, more self-satisfied, desirous, lustful... Her pink halo deepened in color.

Kyoka chose to put an end to self-torment with a dose of self-love: «And anyway… he should be grateful that SUCH babe like me pressed against him!». The thought displaced her shame, filling her with calm and a sweet, juicy confidence. She simply allowed herself to relax a little in his arms. And what sin was there in that, with someone you like?

— Yeah... — she whispered, the corner of her lips curling into a smile. — Everything's fine. I just… found someone pleasant in every way for me. Yeah. And no perversions. — She declared firmly, and wandered deeper into the panties section, not even realizing it.

Yes...

Exactly.

"NO" perversions.

DO YOU HAVE ANY CREATIVE IDEAS THAT WOULD LOOK GOOD IN THE UPCOMING CHAPTERS?

If you have thoughts even just about poses, phrases, fetishes (+ whose they are + under what circumstances they "reveal" themselves), actions, quirks, transformations, etc., that would look sexy and "beautiful" – please write to me about them in the comments. I'm collecting ideas for future chapters (I already have some stock of ideas – mostly about sex or transformations), and it'd be cool to see YOUR ideas of it all (most likely I'll jot them down and implement them in future chapters. P.S. at the end of chapters where I use your ideas, I'll mention you as the author of that specific idea, unless you ask otherwise).

"And remember! The Empire cares about you!"