Stacked Against Short Odds

Chapters

Session Zero
New Character, Who Dis?
Fast Friends

Session Zero

"Hey, where's the rest of the gang?" Roger asked. Standing in the kitchen of the small apartment were just Jeff, their forever-DM, and Audra, the only player in the group who was totally cool as far as Roger was concerned. "Couldn't make it on a Tuesday?"

"Just you and me, buttercup!" Audra smiled wickedly, shooting Roger a look through her thick cat-eye glasses that framed a slightly plump face adorned with ashy gray eye-shadow and soot-black lipstick. She brushed a lock of bleached-then-dyed gray hair behind one of her ears, set with enough stainless steel piercings to look like some sort of robotic snake had died and been fossilized in her lobe. Her thick skirt was made of black and grey plaid, and it hung heavily over chubby thighs that showed through her artfully ripped, black leggings before terminating just below the knee in tall, glossy boots. No bonus points awarded for guessing the boots' color.

The only bit of non-monochrome on her was the t-shirt she wore, though it was mostly black as well. On the chest was the drawing of a cartoon unicorn, blue in color, with weirdly human goth clothing and make-up (Roger found the idea of a horse with lipstick a little off, even for him). A bright, light violet cartoon unicorn stood behind the wizard-horse, decked in punk-like attire. The blue unicorn was giving off an arrogant smirk. Starting above and continuing below the pair of unicorn characters was some text reading "THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE ASSURES YOU - IT'S NOT A PHASE!" Audra kept grinning, much like the gothy unicorn cartoon on her shirt, while drumming her coal-black nails on the countertop as Jeff fetched snacks and drinks out of the fridge.

In contrast to Audra's perpetually elaborate 'funerary punk witch fairy vampiress whatever' affectation, Jeff always dressed casually. Since he worked remotely, Roger wasn't even sure he owned a button-up shirt and tie.

He briefly pondered whether Audra kept her steel-studded body jewelry, collars, belts, and jackets on hanger hooks or if she had a bunch of magnets on her closet walls to stick them to. She didn't seem to be bothered by whatever ungodly dressing routine her fashion sense must cost her every day, but Roger preferred to keep it simple. For his part, Roger wore only black short, white sneakers, and a black hoodie to this unusual session. He usually changed out of his ridiculously annoying branded work uniform in the bathroom before clocking out because he wasn't about to ride the bus in purple slacks and a pink polo shirt emblazoned with the cell phone store's logo. Usually he wore nothing but the undershirt beneath his hoodie; less stuff to carry around in his messenger bag all day. The bag he was placing on the counter right now, symbolically leaving the workday behind. Even his haircut was simple; every other week he went over his head with the #4 guard on his trimmer, and he kept his face free of inconvenient whiskers with a (mostly) daily pass with a shaver. No muss, no fuss.

"Just us?" Roger asked, confused. Jeff had texted him to be ready with his new character sheet for the preliminary session of their next campaign. It was almost a month since their last campaign fizzled out; originally they had six players and Jeff DMing as always. Two players quit after a few sessions, then the party devolved into bickering and accusations more often than die rolls. It was a familiar pattern by now, sadly. For some reason Jeff just wasn't great at getting a group together. Not a single campaign so far had gone past level twelve, with the last few withering around level five. Roger, Jeff, and Audra were the only veterans of all six aborted attempts.

"Just us," the tall, lanky host confirmed as he placed some soft drinks on a tray already laden with starchy snacks. It was his apartment, but the group usually met at the comics shop and on Sunday mornings when it was open to tabletop groups to try and generate foot traffic and interest in gaming merch. "I figured we'd do a Session Zero this time around to try out your characters and see if we can build up a group with some staying power," Jeff explained.

"Sweet!" Roger exclaimed. It would be great to get a little game time in without all the bitchy whining and accusations stalling things. He could always rely on Audra to go along with him during play, she tended to laugh off everything. Not like the others who came and inevitably left, bringing their drama and hangups to the table. Roger played to turn off his brain and have fun, not try and write a fantasy novel or put some sort of frustrated Theater Kid energy to use. "Let's get started!" he said as he grabbed a soda from the tray.

"Okay," Jeff said after arranging a few pages of his notes behind the dungeon master's screen. "Let's start off with you, Rodge. It's a crossroads fifty miles from any other settlement. Mostly a trading post town. Places to stay, places to do business, no farming to speak of. Any long-term townsfolk are merchants, traders, or some sort of service economy types. You're walking through the common area of a tavern, looking for a table to rest for a bit and refuel. Describe your character, please."

Glancing at his character sheet, Roger took his first swig of soda. "Daria Darrowcleft is a she-Dwarf wh-"

"You owe me five bucks!" Audra cackled at Jeff, who was busy rolling his eyes.

"Wait, let him finish. Go ahead," Jeff urged.

"She's a Dwarf who has no beard, stands about four feet tall. Her clothing is unusually light and breezy for her kind, and she's armed only with a dagger she keeps in a sheath hidden from view under her skirt. Her legs are thick and strong, but her arms aren't as beefy as most Dwarves'. And she has a bust that hangs down to her navel," he added.

"God dammit Roger," Jeff said, his forehead sinking into his hand.

"Pay up! Five bucks!" Audra snickered with an outstretched hand. Jeff was digging around for his wallet.

"Hey, I have a type. So sue me!" Roger said defensively. "Anyway, Daria-" he was interrupted by a large, rumbling belch that seemed out of proportion to the amount of fizzy drink he'd just sipped. "Whoa, nice one eh?" he chuckled, smacking his lips. There was something off about the aftertaste, he thought. "Daria's short and stacked. You might call her a-"

"Shortstack," the other two said in unison, very familiar with the term by now. "Where did you say here tits were, again?" Audra asked with a smile.

"Down to here," Roger said, holding his hands down almost to his hips. "Big ol' Dwarf tiddies," he said, beaming.

"You know, this is a major reason nobody sticks around to finish a campaign," Jeff said as he handed a bill to the other player. "Didn't I ask you to tone it down a bit after the goblin? And before that it was a Halfling- no, TWO Haflings, both with ridiculous tits! And you always play them like they exist to be characters in your own private porno. It's a shared world, man! Everybody has to buy into it, not just you."

"C'mon, it's not that-" BUUUUUUUUUUURP "-ugh, 'scuse me. It's not that bad," Roger insisted, reaching for another gulp of soda. "I'm just having fun, ya know? I don't see Audra throwing a fit," he said. "Look, she's having a blast with these characters I do."

"I'm certainly going to have fun with this one," she replied, glancing to the side at Jeff who was looking resigned. "Keep going, what color is her hair? What's she wearing? I want the deets!"

Roger was mildly surprised at her enthusiasm. While she was normally really carefree about his character designs, now she was downright eager. "Uh, she's got.... brown hair? Down to here," he said, holding his hands about mid-chest. "And, like, brown eyes? I dunno, I hadn't thought that far ahead," he admitted.

"But you know all about her huge tits," Jeff accused. "And you're playing a four foot tall female Dwarf who happens to have no beard at all? Not even shaven, just none? That's not the lore, and you know it. This is all about your ..." he struggled to find a polite wording, "kink, Roger! It's not even subtle. Do you know how many new players have told me they had a problem with the way you play your fetishy women? It's every game, dude. Half a dozen female players and even a few of the guys we tried to bring onboard have just written tabletop games off completely because of you, and did you notice how fewer and fewer of our own friends wanted to join up for a campaign attempt? Dude, this is sick. I'm tired of you sabotaging all our games. It's got to stop."

He pulled a printout from one of his binders behind the screen and tossed it at Roger's side of the table. "Here's a character sheet for a female half-orc. Six-foot-six, average bust. Try playing that, just this once, I'm begging you! I even gave her unfair stats and a few homebrew bonus feats, she's completely broken as a character. Just stop doing what you're doing and go along with it for the next campaign, okay? Try her out right here, right now, in session zero. Please, Roger?"

"What's the big deal?" Roger asked, feeling like he'd just been railroaded by a prosecutor and the jury was ready to sentence him to The Chair for jaywalking. "It's just a-" another massive belch fought its way out before he could finish the sentence, leaving Roger surprised once more. "It's just a game. Just..." his eyes seemed to fog over for an instant before he regained composure. "Did you get a bad batch of soda? It doesn't have that fake sugar in it, does it?" he asked, examining the label. "It tastes kinda weird. Herb-y, or something. It... uh... tastes kinda weird. Tastes kinda weird." Without even thinking, he robotically took a few more gulps.

"It's, uh, the kind they bottle in Mexico. The kind that uses raw sugar," Jeff said, taking his turn to glance at Audra. For her part, she seemed enrapt with Roger. "Anyway, getting back to the game. You want to be this character? Fine. You're at an inn, it's crowded, you're a Dwarven female named Daria and you're looking for a table."

"Yeah, I'm... at an inn..." Roger repeated, his eyes slowly unfocusing. "Daria... Daria Darrowcleft... she... I'm..." he tried to focus on his surroundings. He was thirsty. Another sip of that bubbly soda might help.

It was Audra who urged him on. "Go on, 'Daria Darrowcleft.' Tell us all about yourself. What do others see when they look at you? What's your figure like beyond the boobs?" she said, resting her chin on both hands like a kid at story time.

"They see... uh... big... " Roger stammered, holding his hands out in front of his chest. "Big... boooooobaaaaaah..." he trailed off into a weak but prolonged belch that left him feeling dizzy, his heart pounding, hands and feet tingling a bit. But he immediately forgot about that, because-

She was Daria Darrowcleft, a Dwarven outcast, striding confidently through the crowd of larger but frailer folk in the smokey common area of the inn. Most of the tables were crowded with travelers from the same groups. She was looking for one that wasn't occupied.

There aren't any that are empty, but you spy one with only a single occupant. A tall figure, wearing what looks like a ceremonial headdress, sitting by themselves and taking gulps from a tankard. It seems like the only seat left in the place. You might as well try that one.

She might as well try that one table with only a single stranger. Her thick legs carried her over with surprising speed and grace. "This seat taken?" she asked curtly. The stranger...

The stranger is a tall female creature you've never seen before. She's clearly some sort of druid or enchanted being, possibly fae or fae-touched. She pulls back her hood, and you see that what you took for a headdress is actually a mismatched pair of growths jutting out from her head; one an antler of some sort, the other some kind of irregularly-shaped goat's horn growing straight back. Her hair is short and bone-white, her face a light brown color. Her jaundiced eyes have red pupils, and a single tusk-like fang hangs down from one corner of her mischievous mouth. She looks you up and down, taking in your short figure and generous curves approvingly. Then she says "Holy shit, is it working?"

"Shhhhh! Whisper or he'll hear you," Audra scolded Jeff in hushed tones while tugging on his arm to draw his attention away from Roger's face. Their inert companion's eyes didn't follow the DM. "When you speak loud and clear it sinks into him and he internalizes it. Whisper and it goes below his radar.

"But h-" he started before Audra clapped a heavily ringed set of fingers over his mouth and mimed silence again. Jeff steadied himself and glanced over at Roger, who sat with a thousand-yard stare and hadn't blinked for the last minute or two. "Is he under?" Jeff asked, quietly, once Audra removed her hand from his face.

"He has to drink the whole thing or it'll stop working too soon. Let me RP my character, okay? Stick to the script we worked out," she whispered into Jeff's ear. "Start again with the 'then she says' stuff, okay?" She got up from her seat by Jeff and crept over to Roger's subtly moving form.

"Ahem, then she says..." Jeff said in a loud tone before handing it off to Audra.

"Holy shit, this booze must be working!" Audra said, rescuing Jeff's botched lines in-character as the stranger at the table.

"Excuse me?" Daria asked, confused by the lanky being at the otherwise empty table.

"Holy shit, this booze must be working!" the creature said in a surprisingly normal, human female voice. "I'm already seeing double. Why don't the two of you sit down, and your Dwarven mount too?" she added with a chuckle, sliding a chair out to Daria.

You realize it's her crass way of flirting with you.

It took the Dwarf a moment to catch on. She wasn't used to women playfully flirting with her over her well-developed bust; usually she got their envious scorn instead. Maybe this would be a fun one. She climbed up into the offered chair and made a show of hefting her enormous bust onto the table with a heavy impact, maintaining eye contact with the she-creature across from her. "Thanks. Didn't catch your name?"

"Eris," the being said with a smile that displayed her singular fang as well as her confident manner. She turned to the nearest serving girl. "Wench, another drink for my friend here!" Turning back to her new companion, "I've heard you Dwarfy ones can really put 'em away. Is that true?"

"Aye, lady," Daria said, squaring her shoulders up a bit with Dwarfish pride. "There's no swill brewed yet that a Dwarf can't swallow, and by the barrel!" So it seemed her new 'friend' was going to try and get her drunk, possibly for fun purposes and possibly for larcenous ones. Well, either way she was up to the task. "You lay down the coin and I'll put 'em away 'til you're pauperized."

"Oh that won't be necessary, just a demonstration, if you don't mind," the suspicious femme said with a smirk. "Here, try the small one first and I'll buy you a pint next."

Daria looked down to her hand, which had a half-sized drinking cup full of frothy ale. "Is this an insult?" she asked. "I may not be whatcha call 'vertically endowed' but I'm not some featherweight!" she said indignantly. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a deep breath and threw it back down her open throat. She then let out her breathe in a quick puff, which was soon followed by a very Dwarfish belch of satisfaction. "Got that pint ready for me yet?" she asked.

Jeff quietly opened another of the sodas and handed it to Audra, who replaced the empty bottle in Roger's hand with the new one. Unbeknownst to the young man with the vacant stare, this bottle was marked with a 2 written in Sharpie.

"Nice," Audra said in her character's voice...

"Nice," the stranger said. "Go ahead and down the next one, then we'll see if my coin lasts longer than your sobriety."

Daria looks down to see that there was already another stein in her stubby hand.

She blinked, not recalling the serving wench being back to refill her.

It looks and smells exactly like booze, and there's no off-colors or tell-tale signs of tampering. You're sure it's safe.

Oh well, booze is booze. If this woman-sounding thing at the table thought she could soften Daria Darrowcleft with mere alcohol, she had another think coming. "Bottom's up!" Daria said, raising her stein in a one-sided toast before chugging its contents without pause. She finished the foamy brew off with another prolonged, reverberating burp. That one tasted a little different, she thought. "Care to join me and make it interesting?" she asked the stranger who was paying for her drinks.

"Maybe later," Eris said with a captivating smile. "Tell me about yourself while we wait for the next drink to arrive, miss...?"

"Daria," she said, setting the drinking vessel where it would be seen and refilled. "Daria Darrowcleft. Is there a last name to go with 'Eris' then?"

"No," her tablemate said. "Just Eris. Anyway, I've noticed you're not quite like the other Dwarfish folk I've seen. In fact, I'd say you really stand out," she said, bringing her hands up to mime a gigantic set of breasts. Daria noted with some interest that one of her hands had a scaly appearance, and the other seemed like a thick and fuzzy glove.

Daria, your looks are an asset you've relied on countless times. You have no body image issues; if anything, you like your own looks a little TOO much. But who could blame you, you think. Your combination of curves and disarming height has served you well to get you out of a jam, or into a warm bed for the night, or to grease some lips when you needed information. You've come to consider your looks, and especially your outsized bust, to be one of your better gifts. And you know full well you enjoy their usage as much as your chosen marks do.

"Ah yeah, the girls 'ere!" she said, cradling the sides of her heavy bosom casually. "They do come in handy when I need room 'n board and don't have the coin for it," she said with a knowing wink. "Worth their weight in gold by now, I reckon."

"Mmmm, that's a lot of gold," Eris acknowledged. "You really do love to show those off, then. No qualms at all about using your figure to get your way."

"I suppose I do," Daria said. "What can I say? Layin's fun AND useful, ain't it?"

"Just the men?" Eris asked. "You strike me as the type who wouldn't turn down a night of fun, male or female. Yes, that's you for sure, right?"

"Anything with a pulse," Daria said, almost boastfully. "Why be picky?"

"My, what a broad appetite! So is that why you're striking out on your own? A little too ... libertine for buttoned-up Dwarfish society?"

"That's about the size of it," Daria agreed, stroking one of her outsized breasts absentmindedly. This Eris girl really seemed to have her number.

"Audra! It's really happening!" Jeff hissed under his breath. He was watching the two 'players' talk about Roger's character, Audra attentive and alert while Roger was completely spaced out and monotonic as he sat motionless. Well, not QUITE motionless. He seemed to be... sinking. And something was pushing forward beneath his pullover hoodie, as if his chest puffed out with each steady breath but forgot to retreat on exhaling, then advanced again on the next one. The goth woman winked at Jeff knowingly, then continued to ply details through her character.

"And no beard, why, your face is as smooth as a baby's bottom! In fact, I bet you're rather smooth all over; you seem to have missed all that glorious Dwarven body hair," Eris remarked.

"Yeah, I never did fit in with the hairy lot," Daria agreed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. She seemed to recall her complete lack of body hair being a point of some contention, but her memory felt slippery. "Kinda... un-Dwarven-like, y'know?"

"And your arms," Eris pointed out. "Even Dwarf ladies tend to be pretty beefy, but yours are quite slender in comparison, nicely proportioned to the rest of your body. I'm sure they're strong despite their adorable size," she said.

"Eh... kinda..." Daria struggled to think of something to say.

"I bet that helps when you want to seduce someone who isn't a Dwarf," Eris suggested.

"Exactly!" Daria said with a finger-snap. "Frailer folk prefer delicacy in their females. At least in some spots," she said.

"Not those nice, thick thighs, though! So smooth and round and shapely, they must be a lot of fun to show off. What your legs lack in length, they more than make up for with eye appeal," Eris stated. "Especially with that pronounced thigh gap! Giving onlookers a tease of your cushy, firm backside and all that."

As always, Eris had a knack for the obvious. Everything she said had been true. You often use your sex appeal to your own advantage, but your legs were also made for moving in a hurry when need be. You're proud of them for more than just their effect on thirsty bards. The fact that they turned heads was more of a bonus, really, but one you're quite fond of having.

"Too true, girl," Daria said. She was quite proud of her strong legs and how her hips and butt were well padded but not at all fat. Firm, impeccably contoured muscle throughout.

"And no beard could compare with that pretty, chestnut hair of yours," Eris observed. "Why, it hangs down so smooth and trouble-free past your shoulders to frame those great tits! You must be one of the lucky girls who never has to mess with her hair at all."

"What can I say?" Daria demurred. "Good genes."

"What can... I ... say?" Roger said softly, his voice cracking unevenly as the register of his speech went up slowly. "Good... genes..."

"He's so short," Jeff said, nearly forgetting to whisper as Roger kept changing gradually before his eyes. The still, sitting form of the enchanted ... person across from him at the table still hadn't blinked. Roger just limply repeated things Audra said into his... her? ear about the character. With his feet no longer reaching the floor, Roger had already lost a foot in total height, but gained a lot up front. And now his shorts were creaking as the flesh within them slowly grew in girth even as it shed length. Unlike his hair, which was piling up on his shoulders in soft, brown curtains. Audra was brushing locks of it out of Roger's inanimate face as she kept prompting him in-character. Well, 'him' in maybe the loosest sense. At this point the person in the chair definitely looked more woman than man. Even Roger's 5-o-clock shadow had vanished, leaving his face and neck perfectly smooth.

"You're really going to keep going?" Jeff asked, nervously. He was having second thoughts about this now that he was watching it happen, and how small Roger looked... other than the obvious things in front, which would've been huge even on real women by this point. Roger's penchant for unnaturally short women always weirded him out, and he was approaching that limit right before their eyes.

"We're almost there," Audra whispered confidently after telling Roger about Daria's wonderful hair. "He's the one that likes 'em short, remember? Anyway, you're going to love the little twist I'm adding."

"Wait, we didn't discuss a twist," Jeff objected in a sharp hiss. Audra once again motioned for him to hush, pulling a phone from her purse and unlocked the screen before returning her attention to their entranced quarry, waiting blankly for the narrative to proceed.

"Just keep reading the lines, dungeon master," Audra said quietly.

Not wanting to find out what happened if they stopped the process now, Jeff sighed as though his party had just decided to fight the town guards instead of ask for directions. Returning to the agreed-upon narration, he cleared his voice and began speaking aloud again. Roger sat, breathing and slowly morphing but otherwise completely unmoving.

"Daria, you've downed two drinks and haven't even gotten a buzz yet..." he recited.

Daria, you've downed two drinks and haven't even gotten a buzz yet. You're not sure if this stranger is up to something, but you're confident you can handle whatever it is. You're relaxed, easy-going, and feel secure. If she tries anything, you know you can handle yourself.

"You know," Eris said as she leaned in closer. "This town is a trading post, everything we're enjoying here was grown somewhere else and shipped through. The inn takes a share of the cargo as payment in lieu of coinage. I happen to know they stock an Elvish drink here called Posey Pale. It's very smooth, deceptively light, but it packs a real punch. I bet that would knock even a short, stacked little veteran booze-killer like yourself off your feet. Up for a pint of it?"

So that was her move, eh? Try to soften Daria up with booze, then move on to a different drink with a kind of poison in it after her senses were supposedly dulled. Foolish creature. Dwarven livers not only processed vast quantities of booze without breaking a sweat, they also held up against almost any poison invented. If this 'Eris' thought she'd have Daria at a disadvantage, well, that could be played to her advantage.

Daria didn't wait for her companion to order the drink for her. "A pint of your Posey Pale!" she declared, raising her stein for attention.

You see them pour the drink, but you also see that the server nods to Eris quietly before leaving the table. You decide there's no danger here, you can handle whatever she's planning.

A portly serving woman reached for something behind the bar. She brought a glazed clay jug over to their table and uncorked it. Floral notes drifted outwards before fading into the smokey atmosphere of the inn as the server filled Daria's stein with half the jug's contents before corking it again. As she turned to leave, she gave Eris a clandestine nod. Daria smirked behind the rim of her stein. This was the moment. She'd have to pretend to fall under the influence of some drug and be incapacitated or something to lull Eris into a false sense of security, then wait for an opening. With her nose full of the flowery Elvish drought's springtime essence, she chugged down the drink as though she didn't suspect a thing. Eris was right, it was very smooth and light-tasting compared to the ale she'd been guzzling to that point. Definitely something an Elf would make.

"You know," Eris began once Daria had killed her drink and clanked the stein's foot on the tabletop. "What caught my ear about that drink was the name: Posey Pale. I used to have a few ponies, my favorites were a pair of sisters. Posey and Fluttershy. Posey was temperamental, wandered off one day. Guess she thought being a beast of burden was beneath her dignity. But Fluttershy stayed behind and really earned her position as my little pony. She was the sweetest, cutest, most adorable little mare ever. Always obedient, always well-mannered, a very mild and lady-like little gal, not a single bone of contention in her entire body. Just the most obliging, submissive girl you could ask for. Let me show her to you; look down at my hands as I make this illusion. Study it, memorize it."

She holds out her paw-like right hand and as you watch, a glowing image of the pony came into view. You see the creature's image in front of your eyes.

It must have been some fae breed. The coat was a bright, daffodil yellow and the mane and tail were carnation pink, whereas the eyes had a greenish-blue hue and seemed inordinately shiny and round. There was some kind of brand or marking on her hind thigh... three pink butterflies that seemed to be growing into a pattern on her coat. But what really caught Daria Darrowcleft's eyes were the small, folded, canary-yellow wings the diminutive creature held close to her sides. A pegasus! Rare and magical indeed. What business did this barely-humanoid creature have with a pegasus?

"Her sister was not so sweet and accommodating. She was independent-minded and irritable. Had a short fuse and was quick to anger when things didn't go her way. She was stubborn and cantankerous at times, really insistent on being her own boss rather than letting others tell her what to do. And she was a pony relegated to the Earth, for she lacked any wings, unlike her sister. Otherwise she was quite similar in appearance to my dear, sweet Fluttershy. See how similar they are?"

As you gaze into the image, you see it shift with the motion of her fingers. Now you see Posey the pony. She looks almost identical, though the lack of wings is an obvious distinction.

Daria's eyes fixed onto the illusion, scrutinizing it to find the differences among the similarities. The mane was styled differently, the pony's attitude displayed a less demure mood, and there was something different about the markings on her thigh. But the two were very similar in appearance otherwise.

"See them both?" Eris asked.

"Yeah, what kind of horses are they?" Daria asked as the illusion dimmed and Eris withdrew her thick, padded, fuzzy hand.

But your companion doesn't answer the question. Instead, her scaly talon-hand brings something up into view. It is a single die, one of those triangular-faced types popular with academics rather than the simple, square deals used by your typical gambler. It seems to be carved out of a type of stone that glistens in the dim light of the inn, showing rainbow iridescence. Opal, maybe, but with the sparkle of a polished diamond.

"Roll this," she said.

Her words drew your glance away from the open hand for just a moment. You look down again and see that her bird-like claw is empty. You blink, confused. Another illusion? Just as you start to lean back suspiciously, you feel something is in your palm. You open up your right hand and find the strange object you hold is the gaming die, somehow apparated into your grip without your knowledge. Now that it's in your hand, you think, any way you put it down will probably count as a roll.

"What's this, then?" Daria demanded angrily.

"What...s...thissssssss....thennnnnnn....?" the absolutely tiny woman slurred out slowly in a painfully cute and girly voice, despite its complete lack of emotional color.

Jeff's discomfort was palpable now that the transformation was finished. Before him sat, in a trance, a woman who couldn't be more than four feet tall. Her arms and legs where small but proportionately thick, her face was adorable and well-shaped, her brown eyes staring out blankly from the newly-grown locks of silky brown hair that hung down beside... those things.

Even though Roger always played females with huge tits and described them in detail at every opportunity (much to the other players' discomfort and annoyance), actually seeing what he'd been talking about in real life was something wholly else. Jeff had never been able to imagine their sheer dimensions like he was seeing them now. As stocky and compact as this woman's body was, the disproportionate share of her weight had to be dedicated to those round masses of fat which filled Roger's tortured hoodie. They were so vast they completely filled the distance between the woman's small chest and the edge of the table, pressing up against the rim. They must be resting on top of those thick, stubby thighs all the way out to the knees, he realized.

There was nothing of Roger's looks left, and the voice was totally different. If he hadn't experienced the continuity of the transition first-hand, Jeff would have thought the average-looking guy from before had left the table and some complete stranger wandered in and stole his spot in the interim. The combination of impossibly huge breasts, wide curves on the bottom half, and the miniature stature gave a positively obscene effect that he didn't like. Aside from the child-like height that would put so many things out of reach, the bulky bust must be absolutely debilitating to live with. Just getting through the day in a world designed for average people would be a challenge, he could tell. And any average-sized person would seem like an absolute giant to her.

He had no idea how Roger could obsess over this kind of figure, and sympathized with the former players who had left their group over it. It was just disquieting. Jeff felt relief that he'd never understand this fetish; the undertones of it seemed inherently cruel.

Audra, at least, didn't seem phased at all. While Jeff experienced his mix of revulsion and empathy, she continued the roleplay in-character without missing a beat. It helped Jeff steel his resolve to play through to the end and give Roger a taste of his own medicine. Having cleared the dialogue Audra added about the horses, they'd almost reached the conclusion of the narration he and she prepared ahead of time. But as he scanned ahead he saw that she'd added more lines before printing the pages out. This must be that 'twist' she was talking about. Sighing under his breath with apprehension, he continued to read the script out loud for the person that used to be Roger.

"The figure of Eris leans in closer, her strangely-colored eyes holding your attention... perhaps against your will. She says to you..."

The figure of Eris leans in closer, her strangely-colored eyes holding your attention... perhaps against your will. She says to you what the roll of the die determines about your fate.

"It's simple. Roll a 20, and you go back to being the original you. Roll between 17 and 19, you stay Daria Darrowcleft-"

"What do you mean?" the beardless Dwarf woman asked with growing alarm.

"That 'Posey Pale' you quaffed was laced with a potion of True Polymorph, and now we see what you poly-morph into, my lovely little plaything!" Eris announced with her most wicked grin yet. "There's no use refusing to play along, the only way out now is through. Care to hear what the other results could be?" she asked, drumming her mismatched claws on the table eagerly.

You were about to draw the hidden dagger, but something inside you resists. Perhaps it's your better judgment. You've clearly underestimated this being, and now she has you trapped. The potion is already inside your body. If you don't play along, she'll likely impose something truly horrifying on you. Violence will clearly not solve this problem to your liking now. You decide to hear her out, so you'll at least know your odds.

"... go on with it, then!" Daria said, not bothering to conceal the contempt in her voice. She gripped the evil die tightly in her hand to avoid any further mistakes.

"As I said, a 20 will turn you back completely, while a 17, 18, or 19 will let you stay who you are now," Eris repeated.

"What do you mean 'back completely'? Back to what?" Daria asked.

"Never you mind. Anyway, rolling between 6 and 16 will give me a cute new Fluttershy, whereas a 2-5 will let you walk away as my dear, departed Posey."

"And a 1?" Daria asked with trepidation.

"Roll a 1, and you won't mind the outcome. You won't mind anything at all, ever again," she replied with menacing vagueness.

"Death is on the line, is it?" Daria asked, sweat beading coldly on her brow.

"Not at all," Eris countered. "I didn't say you'd die. I'm not that kind of creature, you know. Death makes everything sooooo boring!" Daria could read between the lines. If a 1 wasn't death, then it had to be some sort of fate that Eris would enjoy but that Daria herself would consider to be even worse.

You look around at the other patrons, wondering if help could be at hand. But at some point when you weren't paying attention, everything else at the inn seemed to have stopped in place. The other patrons and their servers were all painted statues, motionless, balanced in mid-stride or mid-drink. Even the fire has petrified into a solid sculpture of glowing tongues, no crackling possible, a couple of embers stopped in their arc through the air like fireflies resting on clear window glass. The river of time seemed to have frozen solid for everyone except the pair of you. No help is coming, and you get the sense that this creature had all the patience required to wait you out. Your path is clear, and this certainty helps to uncloud your mind. You consider the stakes coldly and with the calculation of an experienced gambler now, instead of the panic in a waylaid victim.

So Daria composed herself and reviewed the odds. A one-in-twenty chance of 'changing back,' whatever that meant, and an equal chance of whatever horrible fate this loathsome creature could cook up. The two outcomes about being polymorphed into one of the yellow ponies occupied the largest share of the odds, and they were weighted towards this 'Fluttershy' the being seemed infatuated with. Tallying in her head, she put the chances of getting one of those outcomes at 3-in-4. Only a three-in-twenty chance of staying as she was.

"Okay, real talk," Jeff whispered into the steel-clad ear of the gray-haired woman who was enjoying this far too much for his liking. He'd left his familiar, comforting DM screen behind to pull her aside and discuss what was going on. "You're not actually going to turn Roger into a horse, right?"

"Of course not, don't be silly," Audra grinned with a glint in her eye. "You can't turn a person into a horse."

"Yeah well I didn't think you could turn Roger into one of his sick fantasies, either," Jeff whisper harshly, turning to indicate the tiny woman who was nearly 33% breast by volume that sat motionless at his table, feet dangling off the ground in his chair. Roger's black cargo shorts, thought they were straining at the seams around the hips and thighs, hung wide open halfway down her calves, and Roger's shoes were clearly too big and at risk of sliding right off whatever tiny feet were in them.

"Then why did you go along with this?" Audra asked.

"I thought this was just going to be, like, a hypnosis thing. You know? Just kinda... put him under, have him live out a hallucination, then bring him out of it and hope he learned something." Jeff didn't believe Audra when she said the one-two combination of hypnotic potion and that other one (he forgot what Audra called it, so he just referred to it as 'potion of polymorph' internally) would literally, physically turn Roger into that thing at the table. He assumed she was just being overly figurative. This was already beyond what he'd prepared himself for, and he wasn't sure he could condone any more of it. When he scanned ahead on the script, reading the different outcomes of this die roll, he started to get cold feet. That's when he pulled Audra aside to make sure they were on the same page.

"Jeffery Denver McConnell," Audra said, invoking his full name while putting one hand on his shoulder and raising the other to adjust her cat-eye glasses. "You're getting too worked-up." She lifted the heavy, black plastic frames of her eye-wear. The lenses caught some source of light and flashed his eyes brightly momentarily. "Don't worry about it, just go with the flow," she said through the dazzling glare. He winced from the piercing brightness, not realizing that all the other tension had left his body. "Roger deserves what he's getting. It's really the only way."

"You're right," he said after taking a deep breath and blinking away the after-image from her (probably inadvertent) blinding flare. "I guess I am getting too hung up on this. We did ... we did agree on it, after all," he said, rationalizing his change of attitude. "If this is what it takes to keep Roger in line going forward, I guess I can't complain too much."

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of plastic clattering on the table. Jeff looked back to see that Roger had just rolled the die Audra handed him earlier.

New Character, Who Dis?

Daria Darrowcleft read the number several times while waiting for any reaction from Eris. The strange creature seemed to have joined the rest of the inn at their game of statuary for a moment. Then, suddenly, she sprang to life again and announced the outcome.

"12! How lovely!" the mismatched being cackled exuberantly. "Oh, we're going to have such fun together, my dear Fluttershy!"

You feel a tugging at the sides of your head. Something unfelt is pulling gently on the tips of your round, Dwarvish ears. Meanwhile, your skin starts to tingle on the tip of your nose and the sensation rapidly washes over the rest of you, down to the tips of your toes. You look down and see that your hands are starting to change color. Brightening, lightening, becoming a smooth and buttery shade of yellow. Something tickles your face. Your rusty-brown hair is pouring out over your shoulders, down and down until it hangs below your seat. The gentle pressure on your ears is now the alien feeling of them sliding upwards, away from your face and further up towards the top of your head. You can feel their opening widen, and very fine bristles of soft fuzz and fluff begin to line them inside and out. They twitch involuntarily, a big motion for a part of your body that's never been particularly mobile before. You realize the muscles that anchor them are steerable, and you flex your new and larger ears experimentally.

The world turns emerald-turquoise for but a moment, and you recall the eye color of the illusory pony that Eris showed you earlier. As the inn returns to its normal range of hues, you understand that your own eyes probably haven't and are now the same intermediate shade you remember belonging to the pony named 'Fluttershy.' You blink, and your eyelids feel like they're pushing and pulling more weight than usual. Reaching up with one of your dainty, yellow hands, your fingertips gently brush against thick, rich black lashes that rim your eyes, more plush than you've ever had before.

There's a twitching of your back muscles, spasming almost painfully. Something is shifting underneath your skin, around the shoulders. You experience a horrifying moment of confusion as two new limbs sprout from behind, pulling and pushing and twisting and swelling as they grow outward, bending in places, then flailing uncontrollably. Muscles and tendons stretch and reshape themselves to wrap the bony framework beneath, and your new skin becomes innervated just as it also starts to sprout stiff shafts all over. All of this is happening below your top, but as the feathers start to form and fluff you realize you're growing a pair of small wings. When the growth is over, they relax into a resting position hugged tightly to your back beneath the fabric of your shirt, instantly insulating you with their warm, downy covering.

It's about this time that you start to feel another pressure on your back, way lower. You take your new, yellow hands and tug down at the waistband of your skirt. There's a bump you feel at the top of your butt, a hard and swelling lump. As you're probing gently with your fingers, it pushes further out, and further, then suddenly the pressure is relieved as the lump sprouts into a long, thin tail extended from the lowest part of your spine and out into the air of the very still and silent inn. Immediately it feels stubbly, then soft like a paintbrush over its entire length, then it becomes increasingly heavy as brown hairs grow out at a phenomenal rate, at least as fast as the long and soft hairs on your head did. They soon start to touch the planks of the floor and pile up, at the same time your new tail starts to pull itself upwards towards your back. The weight of the absolutely massive amount of hair bends it into a gentle arc, and still the tip of it collects on the ground behind you. You grab some of the incredible length of tail-hair and bring it up to examine more closely, and as you do both your new tail and your scalp tingle just as your face and body did a moment ago. All the dark, reddish-brown hair in your hand as well as hanging from your head lighten and brighten into a pink color. A carnation pink, just like the mane and tail of the yellow pony Eris showed you before.

The first sounds to reach your new, large and fluffy ears is the crackling of the fireplace. It's immediately followed by the sounds of raucous laughter and clinking dinnerware. As you look around, the inn has sprung back to life. Everyone is preoccupied, and nobody seems to notice that where once stood a proud if somewhat unconventional Dwarven beauty, there is now a Dwarf-sized woman with yellow skin, horse ears, and pink mane and tail. The only one looking at you is Eris, resting her elbows on the table and cradling a face that bears the look of smug delight. You want to curse her to the nine hells, but all that comes out is a minced oath of the most childish and tamest sort that you immediately regret uttering out loud.

"You... big dumb meanie! Oh you- you- you snuggleloving sharp-headed motherfeather!" Daria said in a moment of fury. "Oh!" she suddenly felt humiliated for saying such a thing in the crowded inn, where everyone could hear her. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she waited for a scolding from Eris. She probably deserved it, even if she was upset.

Instead, Eris threw her head back and cackled maniacally. "Oh my chaos! You're just too adorable!" she choked out between guffaws.

You suddenly feel as though your cuteness is a major imposition. You didn't mean to be so upsetting, or distracting, or whatever. The last thing you want to do is make people uncomfortable, so you immediately apologize. As you do, you notice your voice has become much quieter and a little whispery.

"Sorry," Daria said, feeling her cheeks warm up in shame. "I'll try to be less adorable, if it bothers you."

"Well, my dear!" the strange creature said as she wiped a tear from one yellow-and-red eye while regaining her composure. "I'm afraid there'll be no helping that! But if you really feel you must atone, why not step up onto your chair and let me get a good look at you? I want to examine my handiwork."

Your body begins to move as if on its own, and you find yourself sliding off the tall chair used by shorter folk like Dwarves and Halflings to sit at the inn's tables. With great effort, you use its legs as a ladder and hoist yourself up to stand on the seat as if it was a platform, then turn to face the weird enchantress. She watches you the whole time, her grin showing approval as her eyes glide up and down your figure. She then rises herself, and you see for the first time just how tall she really is. Even standing atop the high chair, your eyes are only a little higher than the top of her head and quite below the tips of her mismatched antler and horn. She walks around the table for a closer inspection, being free with her appraisal and her mismatched hands. You hope she doesn't mind your new body.

"Very nice, if I do say so myself!" Eris pronounced as she rounded the table and brought her face close-in, cupping Daria's hips with her bird-talon and paw and rubbing their curvature. Her hands then slid upwards along the outer edge of Daria's pinched waistline, tracing the ribcage hidden behind her tits. As she did so, Eris rested a cheek against them and she mewled slightly, just before burying her face in Daria's top, sinking it between her two massive mounds. "Mmmphmfmp mmmmf mf mmmpf mummpfumpf."

"Um, excuse me?" Daria asked nervously.

"I said," Eris enunciated clearly and into one of Daria's new ears, somehow having appeared directly behind her without moving as far as the yellow woman could tell. "Mmmphmfmp mmmmf mf mmmpf mummpfumpf," she repeated despite her face not being embedded in cleavage. "Which means, 'I think you're going to be more fun than my last Fluttershy', my dear." Daria noticed only then that the hands on her body, which she didn't feel had moved, had now switched places so that the thick paw was on her right and the bird-like talon was on her left. The pair slid forward and down, cupping Daria's enormous assets freely and without any reservation. "These are wonderful, and they go swimmingly with your new look!" Eris spoke, again directly into Daria's flicking ear as the stranger pressed in tight from behind. Daria could feel the other's own, much smaller, breasts squishing against the small of her back, and it was weird to feel her new tail being squeezed between the two bodies. "But now I'm curious. Go ahead and lift up your shirt for the crowd, my dear Fluttershy."

There is no delay between receiving the request and your hands following through. Tiny as they are against the circumference of the two gigantic breasts, they still gripped and pulled up at the hem of your shirt. You feel the fabric slipping higher and higher, teasing at your nipples until it passes them by, and bunching up as you pull the top free and hold it in place just below your collar bone. It's only then that you have time to think about what you're doing. You feel incredibly exposed, but there is another emotion that comes with it. You can't help but notice the sense of erotic energy bubbling up from deep within as you realize how lewd you're being in public. You never had qualms about using your body's gifts to your advantage, but this feels different. There is a tense duality acting on you with equal force; a strong sense of anxiety that people might pay attention, and just as powerfully a twinge of arousal that they will. You're startled when Eris whistles loudly.

"Hey, everyone! Settle a bet! What color are this lovely lady's nipples?" Eris shouted. Daria could hardly believe what was happening as all the patrons and the servers turned their eyes upon her for the first time. Most of the men begin to grin stupidly, some of the women laughed heartily. A few turned their heads when they realized what they were watching, but most didn't. They looked even harder. The hoots and catcalls began at the same time others started to shout out various names for the color pink.

Their gaze has immediate effect on you. Your heart starts pounding, you hear the rushing pulses of blood course through your new ears and feel the hammering in your chest. Your breath starts to accelerate to keep up with the demand for oxygen. Your pupils dilate, taking in the scene and forcing it into your brain at full detail. Yet the adrenaline rush of panic brings with it a sense of elation, too. At the same time you're feeling humiliated to be displayed in public, you're also surprisingly hot and excited for the same reason. One thing you find strange is that you can't seem to bring yourself to cover up again. You realize this is because Eris hasn't given you permission yet. You hope she does; the tension between embarrassment and excitement is strange and new to you, and you don't quite know how to cope as both of them mount higher and higher, occupying more of your consciousness as the show goes on. You want to hide, not just your naked torso but also yourself. Yet you also want to show them more; to strip down and parade your body for their delight. The thought of being miserably, uncomfortably, tortuously exposed to everyone is also somehow urging you to do so, and telling you that it would be one of the most sexually-charged experiences of your long life.

If only Eris would tell you to do it, you might have the courage. As your little wings tremble uselessly behind you, you realize with a dawning sense of awe that you would do anything for Eris if she requested it. And as the crowd of absolute strangers continues to gawk at your figure, you start to wonder if you might not feel the somewhat the same towards them. If one of them should happen to request that you take off your skirt, would you do it? It would make them happy, wouldn't it? It might embarrass you, but wasn't that a small price to pay? Indeed, was it even a price, or instead... a prize? The throbbing of your heart is accompanied by a stirring of your loins, both gripping you in their influence. One of anxiety and near panic, the other in eagerness and anticipation overtaking its partner emotion in force and influence. Just a word, a command, a clear and unambiguous call for more of your flesh to come out and play, that's all it would take.

"Very well done, my dear Fluttershy," Eris whispered into Daria's ear with genuine satisfaction in her voice. "Now come along. We're going back."

"Back?" Daria asked as Eris gripped the hands that still held up her shirt, pulling the shorter woman into a tender embrace that still left her chest exposed.

"Yes, I'm taking you back as you are. Back to the place where your original name is-"

"Roger?" Jeff asked awkwardly. "Could you maybe put your shirt back down, please?"

Roger blinked. The room was bright. There was no crowd, no smoky fireplace, no other tables. He was sitting across from Jeff, who was sinking behind the elaborate DM screen with a reddened face and eyes directed deliberately elsewhere. On his own side of the table, two big, yellow mounds of something were placed. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized their contours. With dawning horror, he followed them back to their origin. They were coming from the area of his chest, somewhere beneath the bunched-up hoodie he was holding in a death grip under his chin. Two pale hands, longer but slimmer than his and covered with plain steel rings of ornate designs, were on top of his own.

"S-sorry!" he blurted out as the mix of shame and arousal bloomed once more. He tried to push his chair back away from the table to get those tits off of it so he could cover up, but his feet just kicked in the air freely. A large shoe fell off one of them and thudded on the floor unseen below.

"Let me help you with that, my dear," Audra giggled into his ear, causing it to flick from the tickle of her breath. Audra's arms, already wrapped around his shoulders, applied pressure as she drug his chair backwards. The table slid forward until the two fat breasts on top of it fell heavily onto Roger's lap, their sensitive pink nipples dragging roughly down the edge in the process.

"Ouch," Roger squeaked. He was almost as surprised at the girly sound coming out of his own face as he was by the heft of the two breasts slapping onto his legs. But now, with Audra releasing his tiny, yellow hands, he was able to pull (with much stretching, and a little stuffing) the hoodie over the front of them, and tug it into place between them and his thighs. "What happened?" he asked, noting again how different the voice sounded in his ears. He brought those tiny, yellow hands up and examined them, noting with dismay how absolutely dainty they looked despite being somewhat stubby. And yellow as butter. Something pink fell to the side of his face, and he brushed it back... only to completely miss the ear he was trying to tuck it behind. Near the top of his head, two things wiggled in surprise.

"Ta-da!" Audra sing-song-said as she walked back around to stand by the table. "Since you like playing shortstacks so much, we figured you should just go all the way with it!"

"What!?" Roger shouted. Well, at least he tried to. It came out at about normal speaking volume.

"That's right, babe!" the somewhat chubby goth said with a gleam behind her glasses. "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, my dear Fluttershy!"

"For the record," Jeff said, turning to face Roger with a somewhat embarrassed expression, "I didn't know she was going to do the whole pony thing."

"Pony thing?" Roger asked with alarm, suddenly putting together the pieces into a horrifying picture. The roleplay at the inn. The illusion of the yellow pegasus with a pink mane. The potion of true polymorph. "Oh no..." He pushed out of his chair and landed wrong, sprawling out on all fours. More like all sixes; his hands and knees were joined in pressing hard against the laminate flooring by two soft but very heavy masses of flesh underneath his torso.

His view was blocked by a curtain of long, pink hair, but some large ears registered the sound of stiff boot soles clocking from the table over to his position. He felt two hands hook under his arms and lift. With some effort, he was able to rise to his feet unsteadily. One of them was in a shoe that clearly didn't fit anymore, the other was buried underneath a voluminous sock. But he had to determine this by feel, as the front of his hoodie blocked all view of anything in the general area of the floor in front of him.

"Oh my!" he said. It wasn't what he meant to say, which consisted of a litany of four-letter words and some cutting remarks about the parentage of his fellow players. Realizing that, he found his big ears flattening back against his head in frustration. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to give them a piece of his mind once more. "This is certainly, um, unexpected," a soft voice stammered out instead.

"Hee-hee-hee! You're just so fucking adorable!" Audra gushed as she bent down and hugged Roger from behind, wrapping her arms low around the diminutive character's waistline. "Don't worry, I brought some clothes that might fit! You're going to follow me into the bathroom and we'll get you sorted out in no time, but first I want you to do something for me little Fluttershy,"

"Hm?" Roger asked, ears perking up again. Audra leaned in and whispered into that ear the same way Eris had in their game.

"Flash your tits at Jeff again, babe," she said quietly enough so that only the girl with enormous pony ears could interpret what was said.

Roger gripped the bottom of his hoodie and pulled it up with great force until his massive breasts squeezed out of the bottom and hung like pendulums down to her waist, pressing nakedly against Audra's arms. Jeff, taken by surprise, gawked for a moment and then covered his eyes.

"Dammit, Audra! I don't want to see those! You know I'm not into the stuff Roger is! It just looks wrong!"

It was only then that Roger fully realized what he was even doing. The gut-punch of humiliation was accompanied by the exhilarating thrill of sudden arousal, both causing his yellow face to turn cherry red. Why was he getting so turned-on?

"Alright my dear, you can put those away now," Audra said after a moment. Like a light bulb, the idea that he should have covered up again went on in Roger's head. It hadn't even occurred to him until Audra said something about it. What the fuck was wrong with him? He hurriedly stuffed the yellow, fleshy burdens back into his overstretched hoodie, face still blushing from the confusing mix of positive and negative emotional states. "Now follow me," she said, releasing the smaller figure's waist and standing up straight before walking to Jeff's bathroom. Roger fell in line behind her, nearly tripping again over his shoe. He left it behind and trundled only in the large, baggy socks that were already bunching down around his ankles (but again, he could only tell by feel since his vision was blocked). He glanced at Jeff, who kept his eyes covered. Probably waiting until he heard the door close to be sure it was 'safe'.

It was weird walking even a few steps with his new, wider hips. He had to keep shifting them to take each step. And there were more steps than usual, as his stride had shrunk considerably with his height. These little legs needed more work to move than his original ones. And as tightly as his shorts hugged those legs, hips, butt, and crotch... the lack of anything down in the nethers getting jostled was perhaps the least weird thing he noticed. He expected the bust to bounce as if on springs, but in truth it was so heavy it barely moved when he did. Something soft was stuffed into the hoodie on his back, maybe he was feeling all this hair that surrounded him like a cloak? He heard something behind him and turned to see that it was his long, fluffy tail dragging on the floor.

Audra was waiting in the doorway as he approached, towering over him like a giant even though she was maybe a foot and a half taller, at most. Roger noted with whatever small satisfaction he could muster that his eyes were now almost on an even keel with Audra's moderate bust. The phrase 'small favors' turned over ruefully in his mind as he stepped into the bathroom. The countertop was almost up to his shoulders, so all he could see in the mirror was the face. Adorable. There was no other word for the cute, feminine, yellow face flanked by long, pink hair and topped with ears that seemed to move on their own. Blue-green eyes blinked out at him, a tiny mouth gaped in surprise. The cheeks were still a little rosy. The lashes were enormous. The nose was absolutely tiny. The whole thing perched on a delicate neck that peeked out of the hoodie like a flower stalk from a pot.

"Oh my," Roger found himself saying again.

"Alright, my little pony! Go ahead and strip naked for me," Audra said as she reached for a bag on the countertop. "Let's see which of these fit you." She watched with delight as the small, pink and yellow, humanoid mare struggled to pull his hoodie completely off, then unzipped the cargo shorts that hung more like ill-fitting culottes and wriggled out of their tighter confines until they were low enough to slip off his thighs completely unaided. Carefully he stepped out, leaving one sock behind of its own volition and pulling the other off herself. There was no pause as he tugged and stretched his strained, white undershirt past his huge tits, letting them flop and hang freely in the open before hooking his little thumbs under the waistband of his now wrong-gendered boxer briefs and pulled them loose. Free of their constraints, two uselessly small, yellow wings stretched out from beneath the thick cape of pink hair that obscured half her body from behind. That must have been what he felt rustling around in his hoodie earlier.

It was only after he piled all his clothing beside him that Roger realized he was completely nude with someone else in the same room. Heat filled him from the top of his shoulders, through his neck, up to his cheeks and even ruddying the tips of his floppy ears as he was flooded once again by the vulnerable feeling of exposure, and yet flustered by the attendant eroticism of it. He tried to cover his nipples, which were now almost as big across as his diminished palms, but (astoundingly) he actually couldn't reach them and instead crossed his hands over his hairless crotch. He was surprised to find his new wings closing around his torso instinctively, but their tips barely reached the front of his arms and were also incapable of significantly covering his ridiculously oversized breasts.

"Oh come on, dear," Audra managed to say while suppressing her giggles. "It's nothing I haven't seen before! But I supposed I'll have some pity. Here, try some of these on," she said, holding out a shopping bag. Roger took the bag without flinching until he saw his fingers around the handles and realized he'd just flashed her again. A muffled, uncomfortable and slightly overstimulated squeal of frustration escaped his yellow lips. Audra just beamed expectantly. Realizing there was no way out of this, Roger tried to sigh (but it came out sounding... naughty) and upended the bag. Several pairs of pants fell onto the floor, all rather short.

He bent forward and nearly lost his balance as the two unfamiliar weights swung down and out below him, shifting his center of mass unexpectedly. This time Audra couldn't contain her chuckles, heightening Roger's sense of shame as well as inflaming his body's sexual response. Which was a whole other can of worms; there were parts of it that felt familiar, and he certainly knew the gist of what was happening, but experiencing female arousal for the first time was confusing and disorienting. It was like hearing a strong, unfamiliar accent and not being sure you were following along.

Roger tried again, this time holding her wings and tail all the way back in an attempt to gain a little counterbalance. It helped. The first pair of shorts he picked up were black, like the ones she'd taken off mere seconds ago. But after hiking them up, she found them too small to button over her hips. With a disappointed mumble, she scrunched them back down and tried the only other black pair of shorts in the pile (all the others were shades of teal, or pink, or purple, or decked with embroidered butterflies and flowers). It fit better than her old pants, slightly less constrictive, though it still didn't have a provision for her tail so she had to put up with it pressing up against her back and flopping out over the top. Still, she felt a little better by not being completely nude. Her big tits were still jutting out in front, but... wait, since when did Roger think of himself as a 'she'?

"Well at least you're showing more leg these days," Audra said to interrupt Roger's train of thought. "I knew shirts would be a waste of time, so for now you'll just have to wear the hoodie. Don't worry, we'll go shopping later! You're going to need a lot of female help adjusting to your new life. Not the least of which being what to do with all that hair. C'mere, sweetie." she said, kneeling down and patting her knee.

Roger didn't even register the patronizing nature of the gesture until she was already being spun around by Audra, who had her hands on the side of Roger's face. With gentle motions, she started pulling back and smoothing out the incredibly thick mass of pink hairs, corralling but not pulling them into place and holding it all together as she reached with one hand to her pocket and came back with something stretchy that she used to tie Roger's hair up into a long, heavy ponytail that hung between Roger's folded wings. But she left a couple of long locks hanging down to either side of Roger's face.

"There, now your lovely backside will really be visible! While I'm back here, raise your arms and wings for me." She was rewarded with instinctive compliance, Roger immediately lifting up his short little arms and spreading her wings out as far as they would reach into the air. "Okay, hold that pose." Roger couldn't see the grin on her face, but she COULD feel Audra's fingers sliding down her shoulders, stopping halfway to her waist, and then taking a sudden detour around the curvature of her bust from behind. "Hail the new queen of backboob!" the taller woman said with a chuckle. Roger moaned as Audra leaned in tight, pressing her own chest into Roger's back in her effort to reach all the way to the front of Roger's chest. Her wings twitched involuntarily, but she held them up dutifully.

Despite starting from behind, her fingertips actually reached a bit further than Roger's had, managing to just start teasing the large, pink areolas but not quite reach the two bubblegum-colored nipples that were starting to pull themselves into stiff little peaks. The blood-fueled heat Roger felt radiating off her blushing head, face, neck, and shoulders contrasted with the cool ambient air into which her breasts projected. The contrast, which accentuated the warmth of Audra's touch, was anything but unpleasant. The taller woman's right cheek nestled against her own, the frame of her glasses clearly felt at the base of Roger's high, yellow-and-blushing ear. With tender caresses, the gothic woman continued fondling her smaller companion's breasts playfully. Roger didn't even notice how easy and relaxed she was breathing now, her eyelids feeling heavy as her head started to lean more into Audra's for support. Her tummy was fluttering and her thighs rubbed against each other, a spot of very warm moisture cooling against her delicate new skin in the black shorts that were her only clothing for the moment.

"Be honest, how does this feel?" her companion whispered into the big half-cone of her fluffy ear.

"Mmmm, nice. Hot. Naughty. Um, embarrassing. But good..." the tiny human-pegasus hybrid sighed in reply. "Oh! Um, I mean-"

"Don't deny it, my dear little pony," Audra chided with a soft giggle. "You're loving it, aren't you? And the element of humiliation, why, that's just making it even hotter, isn't it?" Roger groaned in reluctant agreement as the fondling of her breasts continued apace. "Go ahead and join in, then," Audra suggested. Roger slowly lowered her arms and placed her palms on the top of her boobs, then slowly began tracing circles over their upper circumference while Audra continued caressing them from behind and below. Her nipples were now obscenely poking out at full attention, and her substantial areolas were tight and bumpy. "Now," the gothic woman said in a hushed voice, "Imagine a shirtless Jeff coming in and joining the fun."

Roger's imagination began automatically. The door to the bathroom would open, with Jeff standing there, torso just as naked as hers but starting much higher up. He'd look down at the two women and blush, but wouldn't turn away. Couldn't take his eyes off them, actually. He'd come slowly forward and they'd offer no objections. He'd kneel down, looking at Roger's fat tits, then look Roger in the eye. It would be humiliating, which caused a new flush of warmth to spread over Roger's body (in the daydream as well as in real life). Jeff would gently raise his hands, now so much larger than Roger's, and gently touch his fingers to the front of Roger's yellow breasts. He'd look at her again, as if asking for permission, and she wouldn't deny him. His big, hot palms would close onto Roger's stiff nips, their pressure and texture setting off sparks of erogenous current. She could almost feel it as a sigh escaped her lips without notice. Jeff would experimentally start to squeeze, to rub, to catch her nipples between his fingers and oh so lightly begin to pinch them together. The three of them would start to coordinate their motions, pushing and pulling and squeezing and spreading and lifting and teasing her great big tits in a team groping as she stood there in the center of it all, helplessly reeling from the breastplay-

A giggle surprised Roger and broke her reverie, and she quickly realized it was her own rather than Audra's. Once again, it was just her and Audra's hands gliding over her chest. But the picture in her mind had been so wonderful. Almost of their own accord, Roger's hips shifted in agreement. She was so relaxed, at least parts of her were, despite the heavy thudding of her heart in her now much-smaller torso. It was an odd combination of exhilaration and relaxation to her as she continued letting Audra massage her chest from behind.

"I see you're having fun with that little scenario," the taller woman said with some gleeful satisfaction into Roger's ear again. "Don't worry, you'll be coming home with me tonight and we can have lots of safe, exploratory fun to break in your new body. Just us girls at first. Then, maybe we can find a nice guy to introduce you to the wonderful world of getting absolutely dicked. Or a not-so-nice guy, if that's your preference! We'll have so much fun finding out, won't we?" Another muffled squeak was her only reply at first as the yellow, busty little woman squirmed in her embrace.

"Um," Roger started, making effort to speak through the pleasures she was experiencing in someone else's hands that she'd never felt in this way before. "Um, it won't have to be, um, Jeff... right?" she stammered.

Audra gave one of her unrestrained cackles, which was rather painful since she was still right next to Roger's ear. "Oh don't worry, my dear! Jeff's a nice guy. Sometimes a little TOO nice for my tastes. He's got some very nice-guy hangups. Your figure makes him absolutely squirm in discomfort! Lucky for you, I don't have his particular hangups. Plenty of guys don't either. In fact, a lot of them seem to find small little women with stupid-large boobs endearing, or so I've been given to understand," she taunted. "Though, to be honest, a lot of those types aren't as nice as Jeff. They're selfish, self-centered, inconsiderate, needy, greedy, grubby, gropy, entitled little shits a lot of the time. The kind of guy that doesn't seem to notice how much he's ruining other people's fun." At this, Audra suddenly wrapped her hands tight around Roger's breasts and squeezed them harder, until they were bunched up and squished enough that she could reach the two big nipples. She gave them a firm but not aggressive pinch, just enough to send a jolt to Roger's brain.

"Eep!" the yellow pegasus girl squealed under both the psychological as well as physical wake-up call. "I- I'll be good!" she murmured, alarmed at how sexually charged her pledge felt.

"Oh I know you will, my dear," Audra replied. "That's just your nature now. A sweet little angel," she said, releasing Roger's breasts at last and bringing her hands up to rest on the pair of yellow wings that lowered back into a neutral, folded position. "A sweet little angel who buries her naughty streak deep down most of the time, even if it's still there and just as strong as ever. Though perhaps flip-flopped from before," she added. Releasing Roger's wings, the taller woman rose back up to her full height. Roger was still not used to staring into her bust line, with the goth's bespectacled face having to bend down to look into hers.

"Anyway, put your hoodie back on and put all these clothes into the bag. We'll take my car back to my place tonight. I parked close so your teensy little feet won't have to go far on the sidewalk. Yes, barefoot; those shoes are never going to fit you again. We'll find you some tomorrow. And I know you can't see them, but your dainty little feeties are just so cute and adorable now!" When Roger blushed in reply, Audra smiled wickedly and added, "Oh don't worry, I'm sure you'll get plenty of glimpses at your cute little toes pointed at the ceiling. Yes, I'm sure lots of volunteers will help you with that!"

Roger found her phone, wallet, and keys didn't all fit into the extremely shallow pockets of her new pants. Suddenly a thought occurred, and she opened her wallet to the clear display window for her driver's license. Staring back at her was a pair of big, blue-green eyes set in a cute yellow face with big, perky yellow ears poking through long locks of pink hair. She scanned down to the bio details.
Name: ROGER F THOMPSON
Sex: F
Ethnicity: PEG
Height: 3'11"

Of all the details that changed, the middle initial was the weirdest. Her original middle name was Matthew. What did the F stand for?

FLUTTERSHY

She blinked. Of course, what else would it be?

Fast Friends

Roger parked her car in the only available spot, about a block away from the comic shop. The pedal extensions were loosening again, and she wasn't looking forward to spending time after the game to kneel down and lean into the footwell to tighten them up. The nearly 100 pounds of fatty flesh on her chest made that more painful than it would have been a year ago. But it was a chore she had to do every few days, it seemed.

Unclasping the seat harness with the custom restraint to keep her heavy, bulky breasts away from the wheel, she reached for her purse and threw it over her shoulder as she stepped down to the pavement. Even with the accessibility step, it was still awkward climbing up and down into the elevated seat cushion, and her new heels didn't make it any more graceful (though they did boost her height up to 4'2", which she found reassuring among all the towering giants who went about their day barely taking notice of her other than to stare at her chest).

Her short, strong legs carried her quickly to the storefront. It was Sunday morning, there wasn't a crowd. There weren't any customers at all as far as she could tell, though the low shelves did block her even lower view. She could hear chairs being shuffled to the table in the back room. Jeff and the others must be setting up for the game.

"Hey! There's our healer!" coworker Mark exclaimed as Roger peeked through the door. When he found out at the cell phone store that Roger was playing a TTRPG, he seemed eager to join. He hadn't been playing much, so Jeff helped him build a bard to round out their party. It really helped him come out of his shell among the group of former strangers, being expected to do silly things and come up with improvised songs on the fly. He was coming into his own as a player. Of course, he spent a lot of time sneaking glimpses of Roger's bust, just like he did at work. She'd let him do more than just look, if he asked. The powerless feeling that she was constantly at the mercy of others was also paradoxically her major turn-on.

"Flutters!" Debbie shouted from the store's break room. In a moment the lanky beanpole returned, arms laden with snacks. She worked at the shop and was always stockpiling a few munchies so the players wouldn't have to feed the vending machine with dollar bills. She dumped her haul onto the table and turned to pull Roger into a friendly hug.

"Um, hi Debbi-eeeeee!" she squeaked as the taller, thinner woman's deceptively strong arms squeezed her tightly. It didn't surprise her that the woman played a beefy barbarian in-game. Debbie was a big hugger, so it was a moment before Roger was able to touch the floor again. Debbie complimented her hair, which Roger always found odd because she never actually did anything with it. Debbie took her purse and set it on the table while Roger climbed up the step to her stool and let her tail hang down almost to the floor. The store owner had found what he called a 'drafting stool' in a second-hand shop that was high enough for her to sit at eye level with most of the other players. The lack of a back allowed her tail and little wings to move unrestricted. It also let her lean over and reach the onto table to retrieve her dice after a roll, but she still often had to rely on the other players to move her mini for her. It was a little embarrassing not to be self-sufficient like the others, but that also meant it was a little exciting.

After she took her player box out of her purse and started arranging her notebook, dice box, and gave Jeff her mini to place where they'd left off last week, Evan and Kelly filed in. They were in a long-term romantic relationship, but according to them neither wanted to actually tie the knot. They played a pair of rogues, Evan being the assassin and Kelly specializing in thievery; having two rogues in the party really helped them get out of some tight spots, and it drove a lot of interesting character and narrative moments. Especially since Roger played a straight-laced cleric; the two seemed to delight in exploiting Roger's innate passivity to get her character in trouble with her deity in-game.

It was a new experience for her, having to actually think of what kind of life her character would live, give her motivations and personality quirks (that didn't revolve around being ultra-busty), and trying to deal with consequences. This game had been going on for a year, far longer than any of the aborted campaigns from before. It was hard to keep her character's personality separated from her own sometimes. And there were so many players, too. They'd lost a couple of them to the demands of daily life, but none of them had simply walked out in disgust at Roger's play style this time around.

So the game wasn't able to get started until they had not only Audra (their wizard), but also Alex (a fighter), Cici (sorcerer, also named Cici "for the alliteration" she'd admitted, drawing both the chuckles and groans which she seemed to revel in), and Trevor (a paladin to a god that didn't get along with Roger's). It was a crowded table, and Roger was flanked by Audra to the left and Trevor to the right (grouping the two "holy rollers" together, as the in-joke went). Jeff, despite the demands placed upon him as the DM, was incredibly pleased to finally be gaming with such a large and mixed group of people for so long with minimal attrition.

"Okay everyone, well done so far! Break time," Jeff announced after they'd cleared the dungeon they'd been diving in for the last three sessions. It was two hours into the game, and they typically took about half an hour to forty-five minutes to enjoy some lunch. Debbie took the opportunity to check on the store, which was empty as usual on Sunday mornings. It was rare that their gaming drew anyone's attention, but it did hook a few new customers so the shop considered it worthwhile. Jeff, Audra, and Trevor sat around discussing the session so far, while Evan and Kelly went to make a fast-food run with a list of the group's usual requests. Alex was scrolling on his phone, looking up the items they'd found and trying to find the optimal build for his character's stats. Mark, seeing everyone else was occupied, whispered into Roger's ear on the way out of the room.

"Meet me out back in two minutes," he told her before leaving.

She'd wondered when he was going to make his move. Mark had been staring at her more than usual this game, and failed to suppress a pervy grin from creeping onto his face. He thought she didn't notice, but of course she did. She knew the entire reason Mark really joined the group a few weeks ago was to get a chance with her outside of work. And she knew they had about fifteen minutes before the food would arrive.

Taking her short notice seriously, Roger excused herself to the bathroom to take care of her own needs and clean up sufficiently beforehand. One thing she missed about being a guy during sexy times was the fact that 'holding it in' was sort of automatic when you had a dick. She looked at herself in the mirror. Still an adorable little pony woman, her face was all she could see in the reflection. It was blushing slightly at her racing thoughts, betraying her arousal for anyone to see. So she was extra discrete when walking past the gaming room towards the alleyway exit in back of the shop. She kept at least two condoms stocked at all times in her otherwise uselessly shallow front pockets, which meant she didn't have to grab one from her purse on the way out.

Mark was pacing with eager energy when she stepped out the door into the deserted space between buildings, away from the street and sidewalk traffic.

"Hey! Um, so... I've been thinking a lot about you lately," he said, not exactly nervous. "In fact, I can't really get you out of my mind. I think about you all day at work, and I really enjoy hanging out with you here every week," he told her while approaching slowly. "I mean, you're really pretty, you know?"

"Hmmm...." she mumbled. She knew where this was going, it was just a question of how. Was he going to make sure she was having fun and getting off too, or was he going to just use her body for his own gratification? She was honestly down for either one, but if she had her preference it would be mutual.

"And I've been watching you," he admitted casually. "The way you interact with the customers. The way you play here at the shop. You're really, really obliging, aren't you? Y'know, submissive?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she said, her face glowing brighter as Mark loomed closer. This line of questioning was a big tip-off.

"You really like, you know, doing what other people want you to." It wasn't a question.

"Um, yeah..." she stammered. Do it, Mark. Surprise me. Use all our time to get me off, not just yourself. I'm all yours and I know you love it, you know I love it, just see it through. Please... "Yeah, I really like, um, doing... um... people... like, um... what they want..." she admitted, hoping her tendency to be demure and display the conflict between sexual drive and restraint would be enough to convince Mark that it was worth the time and effort to take her from start to finish.

It wasn't her first time fucking in an alley. The chance of being heard, of someone wandering in from the street and seeing her in the act, it was an incredible turn-on. And now there was the added spice of it being Mark, with whom she'd have to work beside all week, and game with here among their friends, knowing that the two of them had done the deed just behind the shop and that he'd be thinking about it every time he saw her from now on... that was its own little bonus.

"Well, I was wondering," he said, now standing in her personal space and forcing her to look up to face him. "I mean, I really want to see those special gifts of yours," he said. "Would you let me get a look?"

She nodded. It was the expected request, and her fingers were already tugging at the bottom of her hoodie (now customized with two slits in back to stick her wings through). But Mark reached down and took the reins instead, pulling her black hoodie up over her tits. They were covered by a tightly-stretched sleeveless top that hung freely a few inches below her waistline, just long enough to cover her front. But Mark didn't slip the hoodie all the way off. He left it pulled up around her elbows, restraining her arms above her head. Without pause, he pulled her shirt up, exposing her custom-made bra. It was white with floral prints, adding a touch of feminine beauty to an otherwise hefty garment.

"Nice," Mark said in obvious appreciation. He wasn't hiding his intentions. "I'd say they're a convenient height, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm-hmm," Roger agreed meekly.

"Here, let me get that for you," he said, leaning into her tits and reaching behind her back, their faces so close that she could smell the spicy cheese twists from their gaming session on his breath. His groping fingers found the velcro clasp, much larger than for most bras, and ripped it loudly. It was music to her ears, and it seemed to be amplified by the walls of the alley, potentially tipping off any passers-by. She wanted Mark to kneel down so she could grind against him, but he probably had other ideas about who was going to do the grinding. So far he was being predictable, but there was still a chance he might surprise her.

Anyway, Mark lifted the reinforced garment's cups up off of her thick, heavy tits, exposing her hardening nipples to the open air. She wished there weren't any red marks from the bra's seams and that her boobs could show off how nice and smooth they were without it, but it was unavoidable for the short time they had available right now. "Hold this," he said, lifting the front of the bra up to her face. With practiced efficiency, she bit onto the material and pulled her head back, holding the bra clear to give him an unobstructed view.

"God damn, Roger! You've got such a lewd little body under all that!" he said, kneeling down to put himself closer to eye level with her chest. "I bet you can't even reach these," he added, putting his hands out to trace around her nipples with this thumbs.

"Hmmm-nnnh," she confirmed through the mouthful of bra, her stomach fluttering at Mark's up-close appreciation of her figure while her arms were confined. She couldn't have stopped him even if she wanted to, and that knowledge was pumping her up enough to compensate for his somewhat disappointingly self-centered performance so far. There's still time, she thought to herself. He can take those hands and unbutton my shorts, strip me from the waist down, make me pose for him, and nail me to the wall. C'mon, Mark! Get creative! I promise it'll be a lot more fun for both of us!

Mark's mouth closed around one of her nipples while he tweaked another one by hand. His tongue was on her in an instant, lubricating her sensitive skin and pushing her teat around aggressively. She moaned through her hold on the bra. He teased her with the gentlest of tooth pressure, which she liked, but on the other hand (literally) he was pinching way too hard with his fingers, turning what should have been enjoyable breastplay into distracting amounts of pain that his quick turn to hard suckling couldn't make up for.

He wasn't great at this, she realized, resigning herself to the fact that she probably wasn't going to get off this time around despite the high-stakes risk of having sex out in public. The fact that her coworker was the one doing it with her helped amp her up, but she knew it was going to end early before she could get her own finish and that was frustrating.

As predicted, Mark quickly moved on from his sloppy breastplay and stood up again, looking down onto her face from nearly two feet above. "I bet you'd like something hot and stiff in between those soft funbags, wouldn't you?" he asked artlessly. Nevertheless, she nodded sincerely. Titfucks had their charm, and she did enjoy the feel of a throbbing cock squished between her boobs. The added element of degradation, of being relegated to a pair of breasts used to pleasure a man's member, gave her a little thrill too. He was even scoring some bonus points for having the foresight to confine her arms and do it in an alleyway. The thing she regretted was that it would probably stop there.

She couldn't see what she heard; Mark unbuttoning his fly and unzipping. He shimmied a bit to lower his pants, probably his underwear too. Then he took both hands and placed them on either side of her bosom, pulling them forward. A warm, smooth tip poked her cleavage. There was already a drop of fluid that cooled rapidly on her skin. He prodded her for a bit, then shifted his hands to push her tits apart. She glimpsed his dick for the moment before he released his hold and her breasts fell back together with a dull, heavy clap around it. Mark's was pretty average, at least in her experience. Despite his few inches of extra height, he didn't seem any more gifted than Roger had been a year ago. Nevertheless, she moaned gratefully as she felt his shaft stiffening and throbbing in its soft confines. He did do some manscaping, at least; his patch was trimmed to a medium length and their stiff, bristly texture tickled the front of her chest as he shifted around to make himself comfortable.

But he made an amateur mistake right from the start. With no lube, even her fatty tits would start chafing him soon. Either he planned to have her slick him up orally at some point, or he didn't plan on lasting long enough for this to be a problem. Or maybe this was his first titfuck... actually, she was leaning more in that direction. It wasn't hers, that was for sure. Either way, Mark started immediately by rolling her breasts together with his dick in the middle, shifting their weight and position to creation stimulating friction on the hot cock buried in them.

"Fuck yeah," he said in a barely hushed tone as he started getting into it. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this. I bet you've thought of it more than once, right?" he asked. She nodded as he warmed up. It was true; several times she'd fantasized about Mark taking her to the front of the store and using her body in for all the customers and passers-by to watch. Then, after using her and making her cum like a little slut for all to see, he'd ask for some audience participation. It was her go-to workplace sex fantasy. It wasn't always Mark; sometimes it was their boss, David. Sometimes it was one of her fellow female coworkers, Ellen or Taneika. She'd pretty much mentally made the rounds of her workplace already in her little fantasies.

In a couple of minutes, Mark was thrusting more rhythmically and energetically, one time even bumping into her sternum with a loud "fuck!" of surprised discomfort that echoed through the alley. This was definitely his first go at fucking cleavage, she decided. He probably wasn't getting sore yet, or at least not enough to dampen his enthusiasm, since he continued to rock against her huge flesh-cushions eagerly.

She could tell he was past the mid-way point by the way he kept adjusting his pace, and the look on his face: his eyes closed more often than open and his teeth occasionally clenching, otherwise he was breathing heavily. His hands were manipulating her boobs on autopilot, since his attention was 100% focused on the sensations transmitted by his dick to his brain.

He didn't care that she was starting to get wet downstairs; he clearly wasn't planning on making use of it. Disappointed, she turned to her fantasies to heighten the experience for herself.

In the cell phone store, sitting on her stool, lying to a young couple about how incredible the plans on offer were, suddenly Mark calls her to the front of the store. All eyes, employee or or customer, are on her as she hops down from the stool that's almost as tall as she is and approaches the confident, hungry-looking Mark. He immediately spins her around and lifts up her shirt. She'd gone without a bra, of course, and her naked (and thus, unmarked) chest was on full display. He pulls it free of her arms and wings, then unclasps the waistband of her pants above her tail before opening up her fly and sliding her work slacks down to her ankles, giving everyone a glimpse of her only stitches of underwear. He tells her to kick the pants off and remove the panties, leaving only her height-boosting heels on her yellow body as everyone watches with rapt interest.

Then he turns her around, marches her to the glazed storefront, and tells her to lean against it. With her hands raised over her head and her massive breasts hanging down for the benefit of anyone on the sidewalk or parking lot, he spreads her legs and moves her tail aside to show her nice, round ass to the store as her chest wobbles enticingly to spectators outside. There's a sharp pain that leaves lingering warmth as he slaps her ass proudly for the benefit of the store's audience, then he kneels down and reaches around her hips to begin fingering her.

He goes into a practiced, sales pitch-style monologue at them all about what a big slut she is, such a horny little bitch that she'd let herself be humiliated like this in public, how messed up she is in her head that something so shameful turned her on like a faucet. And she couldn't argue, she was letting him do it all, wasn't she?

Mark would then have someone from the store come over and experience her first-hand. A rough pair of hands would fondle her naked flesh, and she wouldn't be able to see who it was since the broad daylight streaming through the windows in front of her offered no reflection from the store's dimmer interior. The hands would push her tail to the other side, then grip her hips. Mark would stop fingering her, but only long enough for a thick, fleshy shaft to slide into her wet snatch, stretching as it penetrated deeper and deeper from behind. A soft belly comes to rest on her backside now, and hairy thighs press against her smooth ones.

In her fantasy she never moans softly. She only moans at the top of her lungs for the whole world to hear. She and her unseen user begin rocking in unison, her breasts swaying with increasing inertia until they're colliding loudly with the store's glass front on every swing. She can't stop herself from gasping and mewling, unable to deny her body's delight at the betrayal of her social standing. The panic chemicals pumped through her body bring every sensation into sharper focus, enhancing every touch, sight, sound, smell as her body fulfills its function. To titillate, to entice, to receive the lust of others without friction.

Kate and Ellen would begin cheering her on as she's ridden from behind. Some of the customers start up a cheer for the stranger as he thrusts and withdraws. Good for him, it's his lucky day, what a juicy slut she was, so on and so forth. Like a bar full of frat boys urging the chosen celebrant to "chug, chug, chug!" the entire phone store urges them on with "fuck! fuck! fuck!" Half the people outside the store turn away in disgust, the other half laugh raucously and pull out their phones to video Roger getting reamed. And she could only pant and moan loudly in response.

While the stranger keeps plunging into her over and over, Mark would help out by pulling back on her ponytail to make sure everyone could see her face, and she could see them watching. Her humiliation was like a spectator sport and she was completely unable to resist. The more they stared, laughed, ridiculed her, the hotter it was. She was caught in a vicious cycle of shame and lust that reinforced each other.

Unfortunately, reality wasn't living up to her fantasy. In real life, Mark was finally convulsing and twitching, his cock pumping. Dry at first, then a few spurts of thick, slippery yet sticky goo, white hot but rapidly cooling in her tits even before he was finished. He grunted, crushing her tits between his hands without regard for how it might have hurt, in his quest to squeeze every last drop of jizz into her cleavage. Meanwhile, even with her delicious secret fantasizing Roger wasn't even at her halfway point of arousal and her volunteer 'partner' was spent, regaining his breath as he used her tits to wipe his cock free of his own baby-batter.

"Haaaaah, oh that was great," Mark said after withdrawing from her titflesh and tucking his deflating dick back into his pants. "We should do this more often, maybe on lunch break sometime? Uh, it was fun, right?" he asked in a sudden attack of self-consciousness.

"Uh-huh," she said. True enough, but it could have been so much more fun with a little more effort and cooperation. Mark visible relaxed, his moment of self-doubt assuaged, and he zipped himself up with a satisfied expression. Job well done on his end, he must have been thinking. She could tell she'd have to work on him a little.

It was difficult for her to find the courage to speak up, rather than just passively go along with anything her 'user' of the moment wanted from her. But she'd been able to a few times with some of her more regular lays; get them to work on getting her off first, with the enticement that it would be so hot to make a cute little whore like her cum helplessly in their hands, THEN have their way with her as they wanted. Usually after giving it a try, they came around to the idea. But too many of them didn't bother, since she was ready and willing to do whatever they wanted either way. It was mostly a problem with the guys; the women who'd taken to her were very good about making sure she finished at least once during their sessions. There were just one or two whose 'thing' seemed to be denying her a climax and then walking out. With men, it was pretty much the opposite and most of them only cared about satisfying themselves with her.

Audra had been exactly right when she warned Roger of that after their "session zero" last year. And she only realized after the fact that she used to be one of those jerks. Being turned into her own extreme fetish gave her a new perspective her past behavior, just as they'd planned.

Roger freed her arms from the hoodie and took her shirt completely off, using it to wipe up the smear between her breasts. When she was sufficiently dried, she turned around. "Could you, um, help me hook this back up, please?" she asked, holding the two velcro flaps to her bra. She heard a sigh, then Mark's hands took the flaps and pulled them extra firmly, as if he was lacing up a corset. "Mmmmf, please not so hard..." she said softly.

"Okay, let's go in at different times so they don't suspect anything," Mark said after sticking the halves of her bra back together roughly. "I'll go in first and tell them I saw you heading for the bathroom or something. Don't let anyone know about this, okay?"

"Okay," she acknowledged. Though she suspected that was only among their mutual gaming group. No doubt Mark would brag to anyone else about the way he 'filled' a big-boobed bitch's tits with cum, with all kinds of embellishments to make himself seem 'alpha.' Maybe he'd tell them all that it was her. Maybe he'd point her out to like-minded customers at the store, and they'd get all kinds of ideas about her. That was certainly something she wouldn't put past him. Just the thought of Mark spreading rumors about her was starting to get her worked back up again.

She looked at her phone; only about five more minutes or so until Even and Kelly got back with their orders. Not nearly enough time. Maybe she could use her hidden egg vibe during the rest of the game? Just sit there, getting her G-spot all shook up in front of everyone, trying to keep a straight face, probably failing, for the next two hours. She bit her lip excitedly contemplating the special hell that would be... but ultimately impractical. She'd be banned from the comics shop for life, like a couple of other places in town. She'd have to wait until she was alone at her apartment again... or until she met someone else during the day that wanted her body for their gratification.

"Are all followers of Lurue as naive, or are you just a special case?" Trevor asked in the voice of his character, a burly and boisterous paladin to the unruly beastlord Malar. He mimed struggling against the imaginary bonds that held their imaginary party prisoner in the large, imaginary ritual chamber underneath the imaginary city.

"Sorry," Roger offered meekly to represent her average-height, average-busted cleric of the Unicorn Goddess. "He just asked so nicely, I couldn't say no. How was I supposed to know he was one of the cultists?"

"As the diametrically opposed Holy Rollers exchange blame and apologies, the circle of robed figures begins to close in. Each of you, lashed to the crumbling stone pillar, faces at least three foes. Some are armed with wicked-looking ritual knives, others hold smoldering censers with fragrant smoke filling the chamber. Your weapons are nowhere to be seen. Chanting starts to echo off the stone walls. And you have until next week to figure out how you're going to extricate yourselves from this mess, because it's about time to stop for the day," Jeff announced.

"Damn! We didn't even get in one long rest after the dungeon and now we're being sacrificed to some low-level kuh-thoo-loo worshipping tentacle freaks," Kelly said.

"I'm almost completely out of spell slots," Mark added.

"I'm totally tapped out," Cici said.

"Hey, we'll come up with something," Trevor said, breaking character at last. It always amazed Roger how he could flip on a switch and be a real jerk-ass follower of a violent monkey-god, then flip it again and be the supportive best buddy kind of guy he really was without any transition. "I've already got some ideas. I'll toss 'em into the group chat so we can workshop 'em and get a plan going."

Roger kind of felt like it was her fault. She couldn't stop her innate passivity and submissiveness from leaking into the game, where she was only slightly more assertive than in real life. Her cleric was always being manipulated, or mind-controlled, or tricked somehow, and it usually resulted in the party being trapped. Evan and Kelly's rogues did a lot of the heavy lifting to get them out most of the time, but they seemed a little distracted during this session. They were clearly discussing something among themselves and not quite 'in the game' enough to have kept them all from falling into the obvious trap. She wanted to stretch her wings around herself and just hide until the other players left, but of course they weren't big enough to be useful for that.

"Don't worry, guys!" Debbie said with an affected air of confidence. "Clunk the Clobberer isn't out of muscle slots! I can break these cuffs!"

"You can't break those cuffs," Jeff replied, raising a chuckle from the group by completing the old meme that had become an in-joke with Debbie's barbarian.

"Hey, could you stay behind while we clean up this week, Roger?" Audra asked. Alex, Mark, and Cici were already walking back out of the room and through the comics shop to leave. Audra gave Trevor a look that conveyed 'you're dismissed,' and he began packing up his gaming gear to catch up with the others. That left Jeff, Evan, Kelly, Audra, and Roger behind. With a glint of light flashing off of her glasses, Audra tapped Jeff on the shoulder while whispering something into his ear. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then excused himself with a robotic-sounding excuse about needing to use the restroom.

Evan was looking up at the ceiling nervously. Kelly was glancing back and forth between Roger and Audra. Audra cupped Roger's face in her hands and had the shorter woman look up into her eyes. "Kelly and Evan have something they'd like to ask you, dear Fluttershy."

"Oh?" Roger said. She turned to the couple. Kelly was relaxed but clearly excited about something, and Evan did bring his gaze down to Roger a few times but otherwise seemed content to count the panels in the floating ceiling. "Well, um, you can ask me anything," she said quietly but not with trepidation.

"Well, we were wondering if you might be interested in a little sexy fun with Evan and me this afternoon," Kelly said, her eyes sparkling with hope. "Just the three of us, but all three of us, if you're okay with that kind of thing. Audra said you would definitely be open to it and we should ask, but it's totally okay if you're not comfortable with it. You can turn the offer down, no questions asked, but the invitation is there if you're interested," she said.

"Okay," Roger answered automatically.

"Okay?" Kelly asked.

"Um, I'm up for it. I'm up for, um, whatever you want..." she trailed off quietly, her face once again tinged with blush.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Kelly asked. "It's okay to say no, you won't hurt our feelings."

"Absolutely," Roger replied. "Um, it wouldn't be my first threesome. I'm, um..."

"She's a hopeless slut," Audra teased, leaning over Roger from behind and resting her chin between the short, pony woman's hot little ears. "Don't let her adorable demeanor fool you. Behind these sparkly eyes and quiet voice beats the heart of an absolute pervert. A slave to her desires, powerless to resist her most lewd inclinations, and the subbiest, most pliant little 'Bottom' you ever met. Aren't you, babe?"

"Um, I guess so," Roger stammered, biting her lip. She felt a twinge of wakefulness inside her shorts to have Audra spilling her secrets to more of the group.

"Give them a peek at what they're in for, my dear. Show them that bust of yours real quick," Audra suggested.

There was zero time between the sentence leaving her mouth and Roger lifting up her hoodie. Something fell out onto her feet. Something soft. Kelly was looking at it while Evan took a glance at the huge bra stuffed with yellow titflesh.

"Ooo, what's that?" Kelly asked, leaning down to pick up the piece of material. She held up Roger's shirt, which had been crumpled up and hidden in her hoodie since lunch while she waited for an opportunity to stuff it into her purse discreetly. "You've been going shirtless this whole game?" she asked, unfolding the item of clothing and holding it up to the light.

"Um, it got stained," Roger said, still displaying her chest.

"By whom?" Audra asked slyly as she guided Roger's hoodie back down with her steel-ringed fingers.

"Mark," Roger answered automatically. Her heart started pounding and her blush deepened at the admission.

"Ooo, was he fun?" Audra asked. Kelly and Evan were now both looking her in the eye.

"Um, yes," Roger admitted. "But, um, he... he could have been better..."

"Better how?" Evan piped up for a change, suddenly unable to wall himself off from the discussion.

"Well, um," Roger explained, "he could have, um, gotten me off too. And," she continued, "I would have liked it if he was a little noisier, um, and maybe got me all the way naked, and pinned me to the wall, um, fucked me hard and rough, and told me what a slut I am, and how dirty I was being, um, and threaten to take videos and post them on social media, and maybe steal my shirt and underwear and make me go the rest of the day without them. That, um... that would have been super hot," she said, breathing heavily and shifting her stance in a way that had nothing to do with nervousness. "Oh, and maybe wait until work on Monday afternoon to give them back to me in front of the customers at the store!" she blurted out, unable to resist finishing off her inner narrative. She'd been watching the couple's mouths hang open at her tawdry confession, and could tell they were still coming to grips with it as she looked to the side to reduce the intensity of arousal seeing their stares were causing.

"Oh wow," Kelly said at last, causing a cackle to erupt from Audra.

"What did I tell you? Short little Roger Fluttershy Thompson is secretly the town's biggest skank, and I'm not just talking about her sweater-puppies!" she said, running a fingertip over a yellow wing that was already trembling slightly with the mixture of embarrassment and lusty stimulation of the compelled admission. "Poor girl didn't even get a finisher from Mark, though!"

"Aw, c'mere here girl!" Kelly said in an outpouring of sympathy. Roger let herself cross over and be embraced by the other woman, who gently wrapped her arms around her (careful of the wings, she noticed) and rocked her side to side comfortingly. "What a rip-off, and after you were ready to go so far with him, too!"

"Yeah, what a selfish jerk," Evan put in from the side. "You deserve better than that guy," he added. Roger didn't voice her disagreement, she just let Kelly continue rocking her and stroking her head below the ponytail as if comforting an upset child.

"Well don't you worry," the woman said as she released her hold and stood Roger back with both hands to her shoulders. "Evan here is WAY more into getting his girls off. And he's a champion dirty talker, too!" she beamed. "Ask me how I know," she said with a smirk and a glance at her partner. "Audra can vouch for that, too!" she announced.

"It's true, Evan has the golden tongue of filth," the mischievous goth woman confirmed. "But don't let Kelly 'The Switch' make you think he's going to do all the heavy lifting! She's fantastic with us ladies, especially as a dom. She knows what lurks in your submissive little heart and will tease out every last drop of degradation to get you gushing. By the time you zonk out tonight, the two of them will have you so drunk on 'fuck' that you'll still be staggering to work on Friday! They'll make up for a whole week of Marks."

"See? Sound like fun to you, sweetie?" Kelly asked, releasing Roger just enough for the latter to look up into her face and nod. "Great! Hey babe, she's in!" Kelly said, turning to Evan.

"Awesome! Just don't break her like your last pet," he said. To Roger he then said, "We'll go ahead and get the place ready. Why don't you go home and round up some of your favorite toys and essentials, and meet us there in an hour?"

"Ooo, don't forget the one with the two handles," Audra said, holding her arms up as if holding a pair of parallel grips. "And pack your toothbrush and toiletries, you'll want to spend the night. Evan's omelettes are to die for, especially after a long night of getting fucked into happy mush," she said with a knowing look at the guy.

"Well yes, it's true. My breakfast service is the talk of the town," he joked. "That's what all the 5-star reviews are really about."

"Don't worry," Kelly said as she walked over and put her arm around Evan's shoulders. "That false modesty goes right out the window when the lights go down. You want a guy who will make you feel like delicious trash? This is your guy. The food is just a nice bonus."

They exchanged contacts, and gave Roger an address to put into her map app. Evan overheard her talking about the loose pedal extenders and insisted on making a trip to the nearest hardware store. He returned with a small bottle of something red and used a toolbox from his own car to take out and apply the stuff to all the bolts holding the extenders down, one by one, while Kelly and Audra continued chatting about the kind of fun Roger was in for. Evan finished his adjustments and said they should wait at least twenty minutes for the "thread locker" to set up before Roger could drive, so they went back into the comics shop. By now there were a couple of browsing customers and Debbie was busy at the counter, so they went back to the gaming room where Jeff was just getting finished packing up the map and all his DM materials.

Evan and Kelly hung out with Jeff for a few more minutes before leaving (Evan sneaking a grope of Roger's ass while Kelly was giving her a distracting smooch on the forehead that could have been Platonic if you weren't privy to their conversation earlier). Then Audra led Roger to the bathroom, leaving Jeff to his own devices for a while. Once inside, she locked the door and took her phone out of her purse. Holding it up to capture some video, she began an impromptu interview with the shorter pegasus woman.

"Hey there, cutie! Tell us your name, please," she requested in a cheerful voice.

"Um, Roger Fluttershy Thompson," her subject answered, taken by surprise.

"Was your middle name always Fluttershy?"

"No. It used to be Matthew."

"You're really short, Roger Fluttershy Thompson. Why is that?" Audra asked, kneeling down to put phone at eye level for emphasis.

"Um, I got short one day after a game session," she stammered.

"Is that all you got after the session?" Audra asked.

"No. Um, I also got turned into a girl. And I got these," she said, nervously pointing up to her big yellow ears.

"Haha, that's not all you got, is it?" Audra asked. "Turn around and show us the rest, my dear Fluttershy." Roger complied instantly, heels clicking on the linoleum floor of the bathroom as she spun around. She spread her small wings and moved her tail a bit from one side to the other. She glanced over her shoulder anxiously, her face reddening. "Nice! Shake that moneymaker for us, babe!" Audra said, rewarded with another reflexive display as Roger brought her heels together, leaned forward a bit, then wiggled her rump side to side. "Well done! Turn back around, please." Roger did so, and Audra brought her phone down from face level to about the middle of her torso. "Of course, big ears and a wings and stuff aren't all you got in the bargain, are they? Tell us about these," she said, reaching out to poke Roger's bust and suppressing a giggle when the girl gave an adorable squeak.

"Eeep! Um, I, uh... I used to play characters who had really big breasts," she said.

"Really SHORT characters with really big breasts, isn't that right?" Audra asked. Her subject nodded quietly. "You had a term for them, right? That type of character you always played? Tell us what it was."

"Um, big booba shortstack..." Roger answered timidly. Audra titled her phone up to capture the look on her face.

"Big. Booba. Shortstack. Ladies and gentlemen, does that term not describe this horsey little whore to a T?" she asked her imaginary audience. Unless it wasn't an imaginary one. Was she streaming this right now? Audra grinned behind the phone as Roger's body shivered with the sudden rush of conflicting distress and desire at the thought. "See how she likes being put on the spot? Tell us how you feel right now, my little Fluttershy."

"Um, worried that someone might be watching this," she said, bringing her fingers up over her chest and fumbling them together as her eyes lowered themselves to the floor. "And really turned on."

"Turned on, because ... ?"

"Turned on because someone might be watching this," she confessed.

"Getting all wet over the idea, eh?" Audra pressed. "Feeling that aching need growing inside you at the thought of being humiliated? Like, if I told you this was being picked up by the local news and everyone in town was going to see it tonight, hearing how you used to think of yourself as such an 'Alpha male' and now you're a needy, panting little slut who craves being put in her place for all to see, that's the kind of thing that really gets your kitty purring, isn't it?"

Roger half-mumbled and half-squeaked something affirmative. Even through her heavy bra and the hoodie, two large lumps were forming on the front of her gigantic breasts. Her face was absolutely crimson from ears to neckline. Her eyes were dilated wide open and her stare was somewhat distant as the pull of her erotic energization tried to dominate her attention. Audra wouldn't really be handing this over to the news, would she? Roger couldn't dismiss the idea, and that fact alone made her knees tremble.

"Fess up," Audra said, regaining Roger's complete attention and using her free hand to gently raise the woman's little chin until their eyes were locked together. "You've got at least one sex toy in that purse of yours, don't you?" An almost imperceptible nod and a gulp were her only reply. "You'd really like to use it right now, wouldn't you? While the camera's rolling? Just give in and work out your lust for the viewers right here in this public bathroom, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Roger hissed desperately. That's exactly what she wanted. All it would take is a prompt and she'd kneel down on the linoleum right now and use that egg vibrator to put on a live porn show, no matter who was watching.

Audra giggled as she stopped recording and put her phone away. "Good girl," she said, pulling the inflamed Roger in for a warm, platonic hug. It was emotional whiplash and paralyzed the stunted yellow pegasus as she tried to work out just what was going on. "Oh, Roger, you're such a cutie-patootie when you're all worked up!" she cooed into one flushed-red ear. "Don't worry, I won't send that video to anybody but you. Now you'll have something to make up for the way Mark lived down to your expectations, babe," she explained while vigorously rubbing Roger's shoulder, mindful of the wings that hung limply down at her sides.

"Oh," was all Roger could muster.

Audra leaned closer and gave her a smooth on a forehead that was slowly returning to its yellow color. "Heh, don't look so glum! Kelly and Evan are going to put you through the wringer tonight! And if you really want someone to take your bra home and then stop by the store tomorrow to give it back in front of everyone, well, I could be persuaded to help you out there," she said. "You'll just have to do something for me."

Jeff finished packing away all his stuff. It was a meditative exercise for him, so he was actually glad none of the players offered to help clean up after the games. He got to quietly digest what their session was like, consider how the players' characters were evolving (or not), and start to brainstorm new scenarios for next time. Besides, to get all his accoutrements into and out of the comics shop required following a strict, formulaic system of storage and packing, and none of the players could be trusted not to fuck that up.

The sharp sound of heels clicking sounded from the hallway outside the gaming room, and they came with the quick, staccato cadence of short legs.

"So same time next week, Ro-" Jeff choked off just before the shock to his system. An absolutely massive set of bright yellow knockers with big, stiffening, carnation-pink nipples was hovering about two feet from the floor, and standing behind them in the doorway was the diminutive frame of Roger, tiny hands gripping the faded black hoodie that should be covering those lewd teardrops of flesh.

"Audra!" he shouted accusingly as his eyes clamped shut against the indecent display.