Zendaya

Zendaya had been having a hell of a day. She'd just been informed that her latest movie was being delayed again and her new album was getting terrible reviews. She was frantically talking to her agent, trying to coordinate some damage control for her career.

She wasn't paying any attention as she shouted at her agent through her phone when she ran into an old man. He tumbled over the edge of the curb and hit the pavement hard. He was clearly struggling to get to his feet, but the young starlet was too busy and absorbed in her problems to fully process what had just happened. She glanced down at the man and saw that he appeared to be uninjured, so she doubled down on her decision to continue her trek to her agent's office.

She was still feeling slightly guilty as she left the man in the distance, but brushed it off. He was fine. Zendaya suddenly felt an intense warmth spreading throughout her body, and her head started spinning. Her vision became unfocused, and she ran into a nearby ally and leaned on a wall for support.

The heat grew in intensity, and the world around her became a blur of light and color. The heat shifted and seemed to be mainly focused on her chest, head, and hips.

If anyone had been watching, they would have seen an incredible transformation. As the young singer and actress clung to the wall and struggled to catch her breath, her body started to morph. Her small breasts expanded, stretching her tank top to its breaking point. Her hips widened and her ass grew and rounded, nearly tearing her shorts apart. Her skin darkened, and her hair started to form into tight curls.

Her nearly destroyed clothes then started to change. Her tank top shrunk and formed around her new DD breasts becoming a midriff bearing, pink halter top. Her athletic shorts were now a matching skirt and her sneakers turned into knee-high fake leather boots. Her makeup became much more exaggerated.

The mental fog intensified, erasing her past life and replacing it with her new one. Instead of being one of Hollywood's most sought after young actresses, she was now a streetwalker named Deya. Instead of her previous upbringing, she now remembered never knowing her father. Her mother had been a **** addict who was **** into the service of a gang to pay for her addiction. Deya ran away from home at 16 and quickly learned what she would have to do to survive life on the streets.

By the time she was 18 and legal for the streets, Deya was already a seasoned pro. And in the years since, she'd gained quite the reputation throughout LA. Deya was the best lay that money could buy. She was now able to start picking up johns in Hollywood and make a little more money for herself.

She checked the time on her phone and glanced back out onto the main road. Her client was supposed to meet her any minute. Just then, a car pulled up to the ally and the passenger door opened. The young hooker slid out of the ally and into the luxury car awaiting her.

Inside was a handsome man who looked to be in his mid thirties. He was wearing a well tailored suit and his hair was slicked back. He held out a roll of bills and handed it to Deya. She counted the money and shoved the roll into her purse. Her client then locked the doors and pulled out into the street and started driving to a nearby hotel.