No ID, No Entry The Remote of Transformation chapter 9 by deleted_user

The bouncer’s thick arms crossed over his barrel chest as the four of them strutted up. His eyes raked over the group—especially lingering on Vince’s G-cups and Kayla’s ass—but his face stayed stone-cold professional.

“IDs,” he grunted, holding out one meaty hand.

Kayla flashed her brightest, glossiest smile and leaned forward, giving him a premium view of her deep cleavage. “Come on, big guy. Do we really look like we’re underage? We’re just trying to have a good time.”

“No ID, no entry,” the bouncer replied flatly. “Club policy. Especially on a night like this.”

Vince planted her hands on her wide hips, making her enormous tits jiggle angrily. “Are you fucking kidding me? Look at us! We’re hotter than half the bitches already inside. Just let us in, man.”

Brandon gave the bouncer a flamboyant little hair flip. Her full lips curved into a sassy smirk even as she muttered under her breath, “Honey, the attention is flattering, but this is getting ridiculous. These heels are already killing my—well, formerly my—feet.”

The bouncer wasn’t budging. He eyed them suspiciously, especially the three brand-new girls who definitely didn’t have purses or wallets on them. “If you don’t have ID, step aside. Line’s moving.”

Kayla’s glittery expression soured. She glanced back at the long queue of people staring at the commotion, then at the remote still tucked snugly between her massive tits. For a second she looked like she might just zap the bouncer into compliance… but the line was watching.

“Fine. Whatever,” Kayla huffed, turning on her heel so her fat ass clapped. “We’ll find another spot. This place is lame anyway.”

The four of them retreated down the sidewalk, drawing even more stares and wolf-whistles from the waiting crowd. Vince kept adjusting her micro-dress, which kept trying to ride up her thick thighs and flash her new smooth pussy. “This is bullshit!”

Paul walked with tiny, careful steps, cheeks burning. “Can we please just go home and fix this? I feel so… exposed.”

Brandon smoothed her hands down her dramatic curves. “I’ll admit, the stares are giving me life. But darling, these hips weren’t built for walking on concrete. And I do miss having a bulge to adjust.”

Kayla pulled the remote out of her cleavage once they were a block away, waving it like a weapon. “Okay, fine. Plan B. We don’t need that stuck-up club. There’s another party a few blocks over—more underground, less rules. But first…” She pointed the remote at the group again, screen flashing ready. “We could tweak a few things to make sure we get in anywhere. Or we could just go home and keep playing with this thing in private…”