"Submissive, Up-the-butt, Cock-hungry, Cum-guzzler." each word spat angrily. Then a fire flared in her eyes, "Oh, yes, I remember the kind of girl you liked most of all." Her smile widening to a full shit-eater grin.
"Trashy..." she delivered the word, her voice laden with judgement and amusement.
She gave you enough time to appreciate what she'd said, before you felt a ripple, as your body shifted and transformed. Your carefully made-up face, and stylishly messy hair replaced with a bleach blonde mop, and your lipstick a thick gloss coat, applied heavily to leave an imprint around some lucky man's cock. Your breasts that you were still struggling with surged forward, one-cup, two... more. But they move, rippling, you realise they're cheap saline implants. You truly are trash... and insecure. A niggling question coming from deep inside, should you have gone for the more expensive implants.
Looking around you see imitation leopard print everywhere.
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