Call a friend.

Well you can’t ask the audience or go 50/50! With shaking hands, you grab the phone from the table next to the booth. You know the number by heart; it's your best friend, Jack. You've known him since childhood, and he's always been there for you. You dial the number, and it rings once before he answers, his voice a welcome comfort in the sea of confusion.

"Jack?" you say, your new voice squeaking with nerves.

"Yeah, what's up?" he says, his tone casual, oblivious to the turmoil you're feeling. He doesn’t recognise your sexy new voice. “What you wearing?”

Your cheeks flush, and you feel your nipples harden at the thought of telling him. "Jack, it's me," you say, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice. "I need your help."

“Me who. Sorry Miss, I don’t recognise you.”

You sigh heavily, feeling the weight of your new, oversized breasts move with the motion. “It’s me, Jack. Your friend from school. From the baseball team. The one who threw that wild pitch and hit Mr. Jenkins in the nuts?”

There's a pause on the line, and then Jack laughs. “Oh shit, is that you? What’s going on? You sound... different. Stop messing around Miss. I’m not falling for it.”

You can feel your new, tight body responding to the sound of his voice, your pussy getting wetter with every syllable. "Jack, I'm not joking. It's an emergency. Please, come to the mansion," you plead, your voice a sultry purr that you can't quite control.

“Sure. Whatever. Give me an hour.”

He hangs up. Horny. So fucking horny!”

You stand there, dumbfounded, the phone still clutched in your hand. Your mind races with questions and fears, but there's one thing that stands out above the rest: you need to get back to your own body. The thought of being stuck in this hyper-sexualized form is terrifying, but you also can't ignore the tantalizing whispers of desire that keep popping up like pesky weeds in a garden.

As you wait for Jack, you decide to explore the mansion. Your tiny frame wiggles down the hallway, each step feeling like a sensual dance as your new body moves in ways it never did before. You can't help but feel a little thrill with every sway of your hips, every jiggle of your breasts. The mansion is vast and filled with opulence, but you can't shake the feeling that you're a living, breathing sex doll in a dollhouse.

Had your uncle used the machine to become like this. Wait the AI had offered to reverse things. Would that be back to his body or his uncles?

You start to feel the tension building in your new, tight form. The desire is so intense that it's almost painful. You need relief, and you know Jack will be here soon. But as you wander through the mansion, you can't help but wonder if this is what your uncle felt every day. Was this his own personal hell, or was he the one who created it? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and you quicken your pace, eager to find a private spot to wait for your friend.

As you turn a corner, you stumble upon a library filled with dusty tomes and leather-bound books. The scent of old paper and leather fills your nose, and you feel a strange sense of comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts. You spot a plush velvet chair in the corner, the perfect place to sit and wait. You sink into it, feeling the cool fabric against your bare skin. The chair seems to mold to your new body, cupping your ass in a way that makes you gasp. You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing, but all you can think about is the feeling of being filled, the pressure and the heat that comes with it.

As you wait, you can't help but let your hands wander over your new body. Your fingers trace the curve of your breasts, the sensitive peaks of your nipples hardening under your touch. You sigh, the sound echoing in the vast room, and lean back in the chair. Your legs part slightly, and you can feel the slickness between your thighs. The need is overwhelming, and you know you won't be able to wait much longer.

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and your heart skips a beat. It's Jack. You can't let him see you like this, not yet. You stand up, trying to compose yourself, but your legs are wobbly, and your movements are exaggeratedly seductive. You attempt to hide behind a bookshelf, but your oversized breasts make it impossible to blend in. Panic sets in, but it's quickly replaced by excitement as you feel the warmth of his presence.

Jack enters the library, his eyes scanning the room. He's looking for you, but he doesn't expect to find you in this state. You watch him, biting your lower lip, feeling your body react to his every move. His tall frame, his broad shoulders, the way his jeans hug his hips. Your mind is racing with thoughts of what it would be like to have him inside you, to feel his cock stretching your tight, new pussy.

"Jack," you call out in your new, sultry voice. He looks around, confused. "Jack, it's me," you repeat, stepping out from behind the bookshelf. His eyes widen as he takes in your transformed body, and for a moment, you're not sure if he's going to laugh or run. But then his gaze lingers on your breasts, and you see the bulge in his pants grow. He's aroused.

"What the...?" he stammers, his eyes roving over your curves. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to reconcile the friend he knew with the busty, sex-crazed bimbo standing before him.

"Jack, it's me," you purr, taking a step closer. "I need your help."

Jack's eyes flicker over your transformed body, and you see the recognition dawn in them, followed by something else... lust. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, the need for his touch almost unbearable. You take another step closer, your hips swaying in a way that makes your breasts bounce enticingly.