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Fix-Her-Upper

Fred reaches over quickly and grabs the marble. "I can see how unhappy you are. Don't you want to be a little girl?"

"No," you say. "I hate it."

"Okay then. I wish you were my sixteen year old sister, and that you lived being the beautiful, sexy, and oh-so feminine girl that you will now become."

"No!" You scream, but it's too late. Your body grows rapidly to 5'3" tall. Your hair is black and glossy, streaming down your back. Your hips are narrow, but your hips and ass are round. Under your blouse, your tee shirt turns into a frilly bra that fights hard to control your 38-D breasts.

Your skirt is only about ten inches long and tight against your hips. You are wearing three inch heels. You feel a garter belt against your thighs straining to hols up a pair of patterned stockings.

You reach up and touch the breasts, and a blast of warm pleasure shoots through your body. It is the most wonderful that you've ever felt. You can't stop touching yourself, bringing more and more pleasure to every part of your body.

You want to hate Fred for what he's done to you, but how can you hate anyone for doing something that makes you feel so very, very good?


Written by Ellie Dauber

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