Dreading the risk, you walk into the strip club.
Island of Change Collaberotica Version
Chapter 7
You wrestle with yourself, wanting to be restored as soon as possible. Swallowing your pride, you know you need to bet big to win big!
You head towards the strip club, telling yourself, over and over, you are not this body... this is not your body...
Distancing yourself from the nightmare flesh that currently contains your spirit. The bouncer is easy to slip past, a flirty smile, and an accidental brush against him, allows you entry to the strip club. The place is virtually empty, with only a few dedicated drinkers at the bar.
The boss is easy to spot, occupying a table alone. Jaded and bored, he doesn't even acknowledge the waitresses in their skimpy outfits. Your nerve almost snaps at the sight of them. Imaging yourself in their outfits, squeezing between tables and patrons, each and every one groping you like the bouncer at the door.
"Ahem..." you cough, to draw his attention from the paperwork spread over the table surface.
"I'm..." your throat clenches shut, parched dry. You try again, knowing you need this to earn back a pot to bet.
"I'm want... I need a job, I want to strip for you." The words come in a jumble, incoherent, nervous, tumbling over one another. But the message is clear.
He stands up to assess your looks, already towering over you. He circles one finger in the air, gesturing for you to turn on the spot.
The sounds he makes as you turn, make you queasy, but they sound positive. The comments make your skin crawl, and you desperately want to flee. But, it's too late now, you're in and already teasing the owner.
- - - - -
"Are you prepared to work?" he asks.
You nod, forcing out an "Uh-huh.", afraid to babble again. "You need a certain extra... something..." His hands gesturing clearly for a curvier figure.
"Uh-huh..." your voice starting to warble with fear.
"You still want the job?" he asks.
Forcing yourself to nod, afraid to even speak, you force an unconvincing smile onto your face.
Then in that moment, you feel your body shift.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/48/b3/a2/...
Your body ripening, curves swelling, into a more curvaceous form...
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/60/2e/ad/...
"Yeah... That'll please the punters more..." he said. "Backstage is that way." He gestured, vaguely towards the stage.
Even as you think about running away, you find the bouncer now standing at your shoulder. Having approached silently for such a big man. At this precise moment, a dull job in a diner, or working retail sounds like heaven.
You head towards the strip club, telling yourself, over and over, you are not this body... this is not your body...
Distancing yourself from the nightmare flesh that currently contains your spirit. The bouncer is easy to slip past, a flirty smile, and an accidental brush against him, allows you entry to the strip club. The place is virtually empty, with only a few dedicated drinkers at the bar.
The boss is easy to spot, occupying a table alone. Jaded and bored, he doesn't even acknowledge the waitresses in their skimpy outfits. Your nerve almost snaps at the sight of them. Imaging yourself in their outfits, squeezing between tables and patrons, each and every one groping you like the bouncer at the door.
"Ahem..." you cough, to draw his attention from the paperwork spread over the table surface.
"I'm..." your throat clenches shut, parched dry. You try again, knowing you need this to earn back a pot to bet.
"I'm want... I need a job, I want to strip for you." The words come in a jumble, incoherent, nervous, tumbling over one another. But the message is clear.
He stands up to assess your looks, already towering over you. He circles one finger in the air, gesturing for you to turn on the spot.
The sounds he makes as you turn, make you queasy, but they sound positive. The comments make your skin crawl, and you desperately want to flee. But, it's too late now, you're in and already teasing the owner.
- - - - -
"Are you prepared to work?" he asks.
You nod, forcing out an "Uh-huh.", afraid to babble again. "You need a certain extra... something..." His hands gesturing clearly for a curvier figure.
"Uh-huh..." your voice starting to warble with fear.
"You still want the job?" he asks.
Forcing yourself to nod, afraid to even speak, you force an unconvincing smile onto your face.
Then in that moment, you feel your body shift.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/48/b3/a2/...
Your body ripening, curves swelling, into a more curvaceous form...
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/60/2e/ad/...
"Yeah... That'll please the punters more..." he said. "Backstage is that way." He gestured, vaguely towards the stage.
Even as you think about running away, you find the bouncer now standing at your shoulder. Having approached silently for such a big man. At this precise moment, a dull job in a diner, or working retail sounds like heaven.
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July 28, 2023
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