Succubus Syndrome

Pixie watched the voting graphic on the board out of the corner of her eye, using her hair to hide her face as best she could. It wasn’t a contest, from the moment the voting started Pixie withdrew into herself, watching a single bar on the chart grow rapidly higher and higher…

Succubus Syndrome

It was inevitable.

Even as the voting continued, her heartbeat roared in her ears as blood rushed to her cheeks with further and further embarrassment, and yet, a tiny voice from somewhere deep in the back of her mind was… grateful…

She whimpered, not wanting to admit it. Not wanting to fall into the trap of playing along with the sick **** she was being exposed to – but she couldn’t help it… of all the choices the jury had presented, at least this one, as humiliating and devastating as it sounded, would give her an excuse…

Would you rather be a slut, or just have everyone think that you are?

She squeezed her thighs together, trying to do anything to sate the anxious energy that seemed to flow into her core at that question, hating that her body’s reaction to feeling this way was to trigger a flush of unwanted arousal.

This would ruin her life – but maybe that was what she needed right now; something to cut ties with what she had been holding on to and eliminate any pretence that she could keep going ‘home’ and pretending that this wasn’t happening. Her other changes so far had targeted her – this would change her reality along with it…

The orgasmic gasp echoed around the studio and for a moment Pixie had to shake the fog from her mind that she hadn’t made that sound herself… it was the buzzer…

“Voting’s over!” Jack announced with a broad grin, “And it’s a landslide! Somebody call a nurse, because Pixie’s just been diagnosed with a case of the hornies!”

She mewled quietly on her knees, Jack’s gloating only made the embarrassment worse as the Audience whooped and cheered.

“I know CP… uh… um… the kissy one!” Chrissy declared brightly.

You stupid vapid...

Pixie didn’t get a chance to finish her thought before she felt the wave of vertigo again. It felt like pressure around her ears, like she’d dived too deep underwater and it spread out from there in a rush across her body and out into the studio around her. Pixie swallowed, her ears popped, and the moment passed...

“How do you feel Pixie?” Jack asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

She held her tongue, pursing her lips. Nothing felt different… at least, not about her… but Pixie knew that she wasn’t the target of this change… it was everyone else…

“Fine” She growled after an awkward beat.

“No aches or pains? Anything we can do to accommodate your unique… diagnosis?”

“NO!” Pixie snapped, looking up at the taunting host and immediately regretting it. The moment their eyes locked she felt his dick pressing against her ass. Bastard!

Pixie moaned loudly, her head tipping back as she felt it slowly pushing into her. “Nnnnuuugghhh.... J-j-jaaackk!”

“Excellent!” The host smirked, his gaze lingering on hers for just a few seconds longer before, to Pixie’s relief, he turned away, breaking the contact. The ghost of his cock vanished too and the kneeling girl panted, eyes unfocussed as she stared blankly across the studio, trying to recover from the violation.

“Now, we’re just about to take another break here, but before we go there’s just time for us to find out from our winning juror, if they want Pixie’s diagnosis to be retroactive or not?”

The board did it’s thing, and through the haze Pixie was relieved to see the word appear; ‘Retroactive’

The life she was about to return to wasn’t going to be the one she left, and she tried to take several deep, calming breaths, to avoid the existential panic that was washing over her. Jack was still talking for the cameras, but she couldn’t focus enough to hear him.

She could end up anywhere… at any time… with no knowledge of what was even going to be expected of her… she’d have to w-