Kayla Joins the Party! The Remote of Transformation chapter 6 by deleted_user

The third knock rattled the door like it owed her money.

Vince’s newly chiseled face split into a shit-eating grin. “Oh fuck yes. That’s my big sister. Kayla. Hide the remote, boys—she’s a goddamn hurricane.”

Before anyone could move, Brandon sauntered over and opened the door with a dramatic flourish. “Well hello, darling—”

Kayla barged in like she owned the place, all 5’9” of loud, glitter-dusted chaos. She was the definition of a professional party girl: tight black crop top stretched across a full, bouncy pair of C-cup tits, neon pink micro-shorts that barely contained her thick, tanned thighs and the lower curve of her juicy ass, fishnet stockings with rips in strategic places, and scuffed combat boots. Bright purple hair with hot-pink streaks framed a pretty face that was equal parts “I will fight you” and “I will fuck your boyfriend.” Heavy eyeliner, glossy lips, and enough glitter on her cleavage to blind someone. She smelled like cheap vodka, strawberry vape, and last night’s bad decisions.

“Vince, you fat fuck—wait, what the actual shit?” Kayla’s jaw dropped as she took in the new-and-improved Vince towering over her, shirtless, muscles gleaming, that obscene bulge still half-visible in his shorts. “Holy mother of god. Did you finally discover steroids and a gym that doesn’t charge by the pound? You look like you ate the old Vince and shit out a Calvin Klein model!”

Vince barked a loud laugh and flexed one massive arm, making his bicep peak dramatically. “Right? Best glow-up ever. Come here, sis!” He scooped her up in a bear hug, lifting her clean off the ground so her tits squished against his hard chest. Kayla squealed and laughed, slapping his back.

“Put me down, you giant idiot! I came to drag your lazy ass to the rave tonight—there’s this new warehouse spot with killer molly and a DJ who actually knows how to drop bass. But Jesus, look at you. Paul, Brandon, did you finally chain him to a treadmill or what?”

Paul stood frozen by the couch, polite smile plastered on, cheeks pink. “Hi, Kayla. Nice to… see you again. We were just… studying.”

Brandon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, admiring the chaos with a theatrical sigh. “Mmm, the energy in here just got so much louder. Love the outfit, queen—those shorts are doing the Lord’s work on that ass. But honey, tone it down a notch or my eardrums will file for divorce.”

Kayla dropped back to her feet and zeroed in on the remote still half-hidden behind Vince’s back. “What’s that? New video game controller? Gimme, I wanna see if it can make me taller.”

Vince’s eyes lit up with pure mischievous glee. He didn’t hand it over. Instead, he casually pointed the remote straight at his sister, screen flashing Target acquired: Kayla. In his head he was already thinking hotter rave slut, bigger tits, even thicker ass, make her hornier than usual—

Paul’s voice cut through, quiet but firm. “Vince, no. Don’t. We should talk about this first. This isn’t a toy.”

Kayla tilted her head, oblivious, hands on her wide hips. “Talk about what? You nerds hiding porn or something?”