Printed from https://writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2195201-The-Chronicles-of-Miss-chief/cid/FVKFL3D7K-Not-every-society-was-quite-so-progressive
With the feminisation of males, and the bimbofication of women. The Femme Flu was seen as judgement from the Almighty in some parts of the Middle East. With the wealth settling in fewer and more masculine hands the trend was impossible to fight, as more women were affected by the infection, and former men by re-infection.
With the sovereign wealth fund supporting expanding harems of voluptuous beauties. A careful man could shepherd a vast army of fertile and charming bimbos who were happy to serve, and happy to be bred.
- - - - -
However, Abdul Bin Salman was enjoying the competive whorish dancing of a couple of his newest brides. They fought for the opportunity to share his bed. He clapped a rhythm for them both to dance, as another couple of his wives doted on him, ensuring his every whim was satiated before it could be expressed. His least thirst quenched, before he could lick his lips. His slightest hunger satisfied before he could say.
It was in this joyous state that Abdul enjoyed his last savoury treat. The dull prickling in his legs signalling a spreading immobility. He was unaware he'd been poisoned by Samira, until he tried to adjust his posture. The frustration and confusion solved as she leaned in an explained his immobility, his peculiar vulnerability.
The dancers came closer, donning more modest abayas and tugging demure hijabs into place. Flaunting their modesty. The surrounded the paralysed Abdul.
"That dose ensure you're bustier than all of us. Hornier than any of us, and you'll enjoy every skewering you receive. Those wide child-bearing hips, and fat ass will be put to good use. You'll love it, even as you hate how much you love it." Samira promised.
She helped him raise the glass to his mouth. Ulima gently squeezing his nose closed, the contents poured down his throat, Ghada and Amina sensually massaging his throat to ensure he swallowed ever sip.
Abdul could only quiver and quake where he sat. Utterly helpless to resist, as he felt his clothes shift... or rather his body shift beneath those clothes.
He was freed from them by his cooing, and adoring wives. With pouty looks of disappointment and frustration flashed mockingly as they drank in his femininity. As promised, they drank in his full bust. Comparing it with sad looks to their own, more modest figures.
Abdullah was just as helpless as a hijab was wrapped modestly around her head.
A naughty squeeze by Samira left Abdullah gasping with the revelation of pleasure that such simple touches could bring. Her free hand drifting lower to explore Abdullah's new sex was enough to send her lashes fluttering in joyous anticipation.
"Don't worry, you'll find a new husband. He'll skewer you to mewling delight, keeping going until your belly swells with life."
The two competing dancers kissing her cheeks, before strutting triumphantly away. As Abdullah's body was completely transformed, the paralytic was consumed too.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2195201-The-Chronicles-of-Miss-chief/cid/FVKFL3D7K-Not-every-society-was-quite-so-progressive
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