Clover ruins everything

Clover is the first to spot the plain brown box. She is waiting for a delivery, it would have to be in a much larger box but she uses it to justify her snooping. She grabs the box, reading Sam’s name on it, she looks around and sees neither of her best friends. She then tears into the box, at first she is loosing interest, then she spots the unmistakable glitter of gold.

She tears apart the papers inside and reveals the twin gold bracelets. As clover prepares to grab them the dust within causes a sneezing fit. Sam and Alex soon come to her aid. As Sam is helping her with tissues, Alex spots the box and reads the label. “Clover, it looks like that sneezing fit was karma.” Alex teases.

“Why's that?” Questions Sam reaching for the box. She reads the label, and her face turns red with anger. “Clover?!?”

Clover escapes the room, and races out the front door. “Sorry gonna be late for class.”

“She will never learn.” Sighs Alex, bending over to collect the shredded paper.

“Alex, I’ll clean that up you’re gonna be late too.” Sam responds, unable to take her eyes of the bracelets inside the box. “I have the morning off today, I’m way ahead on my lab hours.”

Alex leaves without much of a fight, and now Sam is alone with her mysterious gifts. She lightly caresses the golden metal, feeling the age of the pieces. She then stares into the red gems, loosing herself in strange impulses. Without another thought, she slips both golden bands over her wrists and they snugly lock in place.

She feels a surge of strength, flow into her body. Her every muscle tightens for a moment. Her head snaps back and she lets out an intense moan of pure sexual bliss. When her conscious mind returns, she looks at her body and notices that her muscles are noticeably bigger. She’s not huge by any means, but she has obvious abs and her overall muscle tone is striking.

While she is basking in her physical changes, she is missing her more **** mental changes. She is no longer attracted to men, in fact she will soon realize that she actively hates them. She looks at the shredded paper littering the floor, alongside the rest of the trash and can no longer stomach the idea of her cleaning it up.

“Cleaning is so beneath me.” Sam’s voice has taken on a huskier and more seductive quality. “No, it is my job to dominate not to clean. That is the job of slaves. Goddess do I need some **** girls.”