I Deserve To Dominate

            "I don't know why this hadn't happened to me sooner. I've never enjoyed myself more. I still can't believe I was such a pushover. With this body, I will be the one controlling things from now on. I deserve to dominate."

            Before she became the leggy seductress she is now, she was, in her own words, a pushover. She credits her new "Hera Handbag" for her drastic change in both body and personality.

            This is a reasonable facsimile of what she used to look like: A bespectacled "Plain-Jane". For as long as she can remember, she was taken advantage of by peers and friends alike. It really did a number on her self-esteem. Then, one day, she quite literally stumbled onto a "Hera Handbag", with a note taped to it saying, "Take me home, please." Temptation won out and she took the handbag home with her.

            Who would leave something like this lying around?, she thought.

            As she looked inside, she discovered that it was packed with makeup and even hid a pair of stilettos. How anyone could fit a pair of heels into a handbag, she had no idea.

            Well, I wouldn't mind trying out being a blonde for a little while. Maybe I'll become more attractive to some boy.

            Going to her bathroom, she took some lipstick forced inside and applied it to her lips. Next, she noticed an armband, which appeared to be gold or close enough. But it wasn't until she put on the stilettos that the real changes began.

            "Wow." She said. "These things actually fit me. I thought with my chubby arms and tiny feet, I'd--Whoa!"

            A sudden trembling feeling cut her off.

            "O-okay. W-w-what's happening?"

            She received her answer in the form of her arms suddenly stretching out, the bones and muscles within creaking as loud as an antique door throughout. Next, her breasts, which were just short of nonexistent, began swelling in size to ample, and very noticeable proportions. Then, as her pale skin began to darken slightly, her legs started to stretch as well, feeling more like rubber than bones. As she became taller, her thighs thickened, becoming big-boned, and her hips creaked outward. Her waist, however, caved in, making the girl groan in major agony.

            *Groan*

            "H-how is this h-h-happening?!"

            She quickly covered her mouth at the sudden change of her voice. It sounded ethereal, unreal, seductive.

            "Oh my gosh. Is that...my voice? I sound kinda sexy."

            She looked on at her reflection as her hair slowly went blonde and grew down to her shrinking waist. All that remained were her facial features, which quickly reshaped themselves. When her face stopped moving around as if made of putty, an older woman was staring back at her, older and hotter. Nothing remained of the homely girl, sans her clothes, which were now ill-fitting and about to tear in some places.

            "Is this handbag magic or something? I shouldn't look like this. I should be...out making other women jealous. No. What did I say that for? I should be figuring out how that handbag...made me into a goddess. Wait. That's not what I wanted to say either. Could that handbag be changing my mind, too? If it is, then...then...I shouldn't be worrying about something so boring. I should be out buying more clothes. I clearly can't go out in this drab. There's got to be something around here that fits me."

            Since then, she has only changed back to sleep, leaving her with no memory of what she has done as this new, well-sculpted cougar. Only short visions that appear whenever she closes her eyes are her hint to what things she might have done. It seemed that this new identity and her own were distinct and separated from each other. However, that didn't stop the cougar identity from...throwing her weight around. When she went out to party, spend, do anything, she became the person in control. She took control in her relationships and as she vowed, she dominated. She did believe that she deserved to dominate.

The Shoe-niverse: Trophy Girlfriend

            Shoes were everywhere. Flats, stilettos, "Mary Janes", sneakers, cowboy boots, et cetera. The teenage loner, who awakened to find himself in the middle of the gigantic library of shoes, was afraid. It was an emotion that he didn't feel in a long time. He didn't know where he was or how he got there. Everywhere he turned, there were shoes, and it left him panicked.

            "Don't be afraid, child. No harm will come to you." Came a voice from nowhere.

            "What the--?!"

            Ironically, the voice only frightened him more. The voice was ethereal, feminine, and seemingly seductive.

            "Who said that?!" Went the trembling teen.

            "Who I am is irrelevant." Came the response. "More importantly, who would you like to be?"

            "Who would I like to be?"

            "Yes. You seem unhappy in your current life. You were transported here for a purpose: To live a happier life."

            "Happier life? How can I be sure you're for real? How do I know I'm not being--"

           "I can assure you, you are not being misled or tricked in any way. Take a look at all the footwear before you."

            The lad looked around and saw shoes for men and women alike. There were shoes for people with large feet and those with dainty feet. He was at a loss for words at how the library was packed with shoes. One pair, however, immediately got his attention. It was a small pair of black stilettos with straps. They seemed to be calling to the teen, but before he touched them, the seductive voice rang out again.

            "Choose carefully, child." It spoke. "Once you remove a pair from its place, your fate will be sealed."

            The boy, however, was too mesmerized to listen, and as he took the stilettos out of their cubby, the voice spoke again.

            "You seem to have made your decision. Enjoy your new life, and may you be happier than you were before."

            Why can't I stop staring at these heels?, he thought. What's wrong with me?

            Just then, everything started glowing, snapping him out of his daze. By then, though, it was too late. When the bright light faded, he was inside a rather expensive car, sitting in the front seat on the passenger side. He appeared to be okay, but when he looked down, he found he was wearing the stilettos, much to his horror. Even stranger, they fit his large feet perfectly.

            "What the--hurggh!"

            Before he could react, he bent over in pain. His stomach was suddenly in knots, as two mounds began to form. In seconds, he had breasts of ample size on his chest. His hair then grew supernaturally fast, stopping just past his shoulders while turning blonde as well. The agony was too much as his midriff started melting to reveal a four-pack while his arms and shoulders started shrinking. His legs creaked loudly as they lengthened, gaining the appearance of a model's legs.

            "What are...these things doing...to me?"

            His voice changed midway through, rising several octaves as his Adam's apple shrinks into oblivion. Some other things shrank into oblivion as they reformed into a woman's "machinery". Lastly, while his face turned into putty, his feet shrank to a woman's size, more fitting for the strapping heels. The teenager who sat there just moments ago was replaced with a mesmerizing babe with eye-catching legs. However, it wasn't over. The former boy held her head as a sudden migraine attacked her head. Memories of troubled adolescence were quickly replaced with memories of shopping and lovemaking. The migraine passed as quickly as it happened, leaving the hottie feeling dazed and confused.

            "Whoa. What...happened?" Her voice was just as seductive as her long legs. She then looked out the window to see that she was at a local party. As if she had no memory of who she was just minutes before, she got out, purse in hand, ready to join the festivities. With enough luck, she could become some guy's... trophy girlfriend.

The Shoe-niverse: From Tank To Skank

 

          "Hello?" Came a young man's voice. "Anybody here?"

             He got no response. He had woken up in the middle of a giant library of shoes, with no idea how he ended up here. The young man, who was of college age and had the body of a tank, was afraid to do or touch anything for fear of destroying something or triggering something like in an "Indiana Jones" movie.

             I don't think there's anybody here but me, he thought. What is this place, and what's with all the shoes?

             "You needn't be afraid, young one." Came a woman's voice from nowhere.

             Startled, the lad did a 360° in search of the woman he heard. Again, he found nothing.

             "You will not see me, but I am here, to guide you. I am the keeper of these hallowed halls, and if you want to return to where you came from, you must make a choice."

             "You mean I have to pick out one of these shoes?"

             "That is correct. Do not be afraid to touch one, but know this: Once you have taken a pair off the shelf, the decision is final. Choose wisely."

            With that, the voice went silent. The lad had to be careful. If the voice was serious, then if he touched the wrong pair of shoes, then he would be stuck with them, no matter what, so he had to be extra careful. He wandered around the library aimlessly for some time, until he stopped at a pair of high heels. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off of them.

            I know a few girls who would like these, he thought. Maybe I could use them for a birthday present.

            Without a second thought, he took the heels out of the cubby. Suddenly, the ethereal voice from nowhere spoke to him again.

            "Thank you for making your decision. Enjoy your new life."

            "Wait, what?"

            Before he could ask what she meant, there was a blinding flash of light. He couldn't see even his hands before him. All of a sudden, as soon as it happened, the light was gone. However, he was not back home. He appeared to be at a seemingly expensive vacation home. Something was horribly wrong. He had expected to be back in his home, not at somebody else's, but unbeknownst to him, his troubles would only multiply. Had he bothered to look down, he would have seen that he was now wearing the high heels he picked out from that massive library.

            "This--this is all wrong," he said to himself. "What's--Umph!"

            This new location was only the beginning of his changes. The voice from the library spoke about a "new life" just before he landed here. It seemed that he was about to transform into something that fit that "new life". Clutching his stomach, he fell onto some grass, groaning in pain. On his back, he writhed around as two small mountains formed on his bare chest. He groaned as they slowly swelled until massive size. Flipping over and getting to his knees, he found his hair, which was black and cut short, growing supernaturally fast past his waist as it became bleached blonde from the roots. His fingernails, which were cut down to the nub, lengthened before his eyes, becoming like talons. Skin bubbled around his wide stomach area as it began to melt. With every couple of seconds, a slurp was heard, ensuring that the gobs of fat that encased his stomach were disappearing into nothingness.

            "What are--aaugh--th-these shoes d-doing to me?" He asked, his voice rising an octave with every word. "Some-somebody h-help mmmmeeee!"

            His calls went unanswered as his transformation neared an end. What remained of his maleness were slowly shrinking below inside him and reshaping into a woman's parts. His--by now, her face--became like clay as her nose shrank, eyebrows shifted, lips swelled, and jaw receded. At last, the young man in woman's heels was completely gone, and a very buxom seductress was in his place. Before the transformed victim could react to her new body, she blacked out.

            This is a photo of what the transformed victim looks like now. No longer built like a tank, she has the body of an adult film actress and flaunts it with every chance she gets. As a result of this, she has snagged countless men with large bank accounts. However, that isn't enough to her. She wants material items to go with all that money. Labeled a "gold-digging skank" by other women, she has been living a life of luxury ever since the transformation from a rotund college student. Reality has also been changed so that said student no longer exists, and it looks like she wants to keep it that way. 

Who I Am Now

            This is a photo of who I am now. I don't have any photos of who I used to be because... I deleted or destroyed them all. I don't want anything to remind me of how unhappy I was. Who knew a "Hera Handbag" was all I needed for a happy life? Never again will I feel unhappy... as a man.

            I found my "Hera Handbag" strangely abandoned by my car and, not wanting to be called a thief, I looked around for the owner. When that got me nowhere, I was told that if nobody around claimed it, then I could have it. If only I knew then what it was or what it was capable of. When I took it home, I curiously took a look inside and found jewelry, makeup, and other typical stuff for the woman. Without thinking, I found myself applying some of that makeup to my face. The lipstick tasted like cherry, while the blush brought out my cheekbones. Once I started putting the woman's makeup on, it was somebody else was controlling my arms. I couldn't help myself, no matter how wrong it seemed. However, it was just the beginning of my...changes.

            The next day brought some more strange occurrences related to my new handbag. Upon waking up and turning my attention to it, I found a woman's pumps inside. I don't remember seeing them inside when I found it, and they certainly couldn't magically appear in there, could they?

            "These weren't in there yesterday, but I would look so hot in these."

            I covered my mouth in shock. Did I really just say that out loud? What unearthly being made me say that? What was with this weird handbag? And...and why was I so tempted to try on these pumps? As if possessed, I slipped them on and took a good look at how they surprisingly fit my large feet.

            "Oooooohh..." I let out subconsciously.

            When I started walking around in them, it was like I was used to it, like I had walked in heels before. Walking around my room, I found myself strutting around, as if on a walkway at a fashion show. I put my hands on my hips and posed like I was in front of cameras. The realization that I was doing this never hit me for even a moment, even though I didn't have the figure for it. Something about this handbag was warping my head. Even worse, I wasn't trying to fight it.

            Some hours later, I saw some more woman's items inside the "Hera Handbag", among them was a unique-looking brassiere. Now, I had a very flabby waistline, so I didn't think it would look good on me, but the moment I connected the straps, I saw something I would only see in a cheesy sci-fi movie. I watched, halfway horrified, as globs of fat from my waist either melted or relocated to... other places. With every audible slurp, my waist became thinner and thinner, and the mounds on my chest swelled up more and more. 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑝-𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑝, they sounded like they went. Moving my hands to my hips, I felt them moving outward. My thighs felt like balloons,  slowly inflating. By the time the noises stopped, I couldn't deny it: I had boobs, massive, honest-to-heaven, possibly DD-cup boobs. To go with them, I had an hourglass for a waist and thick thighs. They were so thick, in fact, that they were crushing my "lower jewelry". That was soon rectified when I felt something sucked inside me.

            *𝑆𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑟𝑟𝑟𝑟𝑟𝑟𝑝*
            "Whooooaaa! What a rush!"

            Hearing myself talk, my voice didn't sound right. It must have went up an octave or two.

            "Wait. What's happening to my voice? What is happening to me?! A mirror. I need a mirror!"

            As my hands moved to my throat, I could feel my Adam's Apple shrinking. In my panic, my voice must have risen a few more octaves. I rushed to the bathroom and got another shock. Staring in the mirror, I watched my cut hair grow supernaturally fast. It became longer with every second, not stopping until it reached my waist.

            "Oh my GOD! I totally look like a girl!"

            My voice was now completely feminine and unmistakably a woman's. Then I remembered the pumps, and looking down, past my breasts, I saw my large feet slowly shrinking in area, until they, too, were unmistakably a woman's. My hands shrank in size as the fingernails lengthened. In seconds, there was no longer anything masculine in my appearance.

            "This is so not good." I said, cupping my mammoth breasts. "And why can't I control myself? I shouldn't be totally enjoying this. I should be out showing off. Wait. That's not what I wanted to say."

            It was by now that the effects of the "Hera Handbag" started affecting my mind.

           "I need to take this stuff off so I  can buy some more fashionable clothes. I can't be seen in that...that man's drab. Wait. Something's wrong here. It's like someone else is--in need of a new life and needs to stop fighting this."

            What was left of me was still trying to fight the mental changes brought on by the items from the handbag. It seemed to be a losing battle because every second that passed, my own thoughts were being replaced by thoughts of shopping sprees, money, showing off my body, and sex. I fell to my knees with my head in my hands, but it was no use. A new persona was taking control of me...by force. The person that eventually stood back up was not me; That is, she didn't think she was my previous male self anymore. This person was a new identity, and she--I wanted--no, needed--to make that clear to the world. I was not that flabby waste of a man anymore. I was fit, seductive, and just plain hot. Yes, this is who I am now.

The Shoe-niverse

            There were shoes everywhere. Shoes as far as the eye could see. I had no idea how I ended up in here. I went to sleep in my own bedroom and somehow, woke up in a totally different place. No matter where I turned, there was a pair of shoes. From flats to stilettos, sandals to thigh-high boots, every kind of shoe was in this place. I called out for somebody but got no response in return. So I walked around the area aimlessly until I thought, Maybe if I picked out one of these pairs, then I'll get back home. Without thinking too hard about it, I went for some high-heeled pumps. Suddenly, I heard someone.

            Try them on, it went.

            It was a woman's whisper, telling me to put on the pumps. I was a boy, so why this voice from nowhere wanted me to put on women's footwear was beyond me. However, it seemed like the only way I would get home, so without a second thought, I tried them on. To my shock, they fit perfectly. All of a sudden, there was a flash of light, blinding me. I couldn't see my own hands in front of me. Before I knew it, I was back in my bedroom.

            To my relief, I was home again,  pajamas and all, but the pumps I tried on came home with me. Even stranger, I was still wearing them. But the strangest of events had not yet happened. Just when I was about to take them off, pain wracked my whole body. I fell to the floor as it felt like I was on fire.

            Looking at my nipples, I noticed the flesh around them slowly forming two small mountains. With each passing second, they became bigger and bigger and bigger. I couldn't deny it; They were breasts. Just then, my hair started to grow past my neckline. I had just gotten a haircut so I knew this was some supernatural event of sorts. My potbelly slowly shrank with the fat relocating to my rump, blowing it up to a very big size. I felt my legs lengthen while my hips cracked outward and my face remolded. As my "balls and chain" shrank away, I felt a dark cloud forming within my mind. Coherent thoughts were getting harder to make. The last thing I would remember was morphing into a female.

----------------

           It feels like so long ago when I was--yecch, a man. In reality, it's only been a couple of days. Not that it matters. I don't plan on ever going back to being him again, and as long as I have my pumps, I can keep him at bay. I have way too much things going well for me for him to ruin it all: My new, hot bestie, plenty of guys who will fight over me, and plenty of cash and cards to carry around. I have all I want and I won't give it up for anything, even for some helpless, old broad crying her eyes out over her missing son. Her suffering means nothing to me. Only what I want matters.

How The Bimbo Virus Stole My Son

            This is...was one of my sons. A horrible virus had blindsided all of us and did THIS to him. To this day, we still don't know how he contracted it nor how to get him back. We have had to learn to adjust to living with a less-than-intelligent young woman, seemingly in her twenties, with an abnormally tiny waist, and gigantic breasts that are clearly more plastic than human. I can remember the very moment when his changes started.

            We were coming home from grocery shopping when I heard a rather loud groaning from his stomach. He was rather rotund in appearance, getting that from me, but this wasn't normal because it was extraordinary loud and deep. I couldn't turn to attend to him because I was driving, so I simply told him to "hold it in" until we got home. If only I knew better then.

            As I kept driving, I heard him say, "Mom, I don't feel too good." Had I looked back sooner, I would have seen the black hair on his head start to grow supernaturally fast. Finally, I had to pull over so I could see my changing son. He appeared to be growing a "Mohawk" that wasn't there a moment ago and was clutching his stomach. I was at a loss for words, unable to form any thoughts on what was happening to my boy. Pulling up his shirt, we watched as his stomach began slowly caving in itself, making these eerie, squishing noises throughout. I was absolutely petrified by what I was seeing.

            The whole thing was nightmarish. Yet, I couldn't look away. I was just so transfixed by whatever unholy event was happening to my boy. Before my eyes, his wide stomach was shrinking while two mountains were forming on his chest, slowly becoming bigger by the second. After a few seconds more, my son had breasts, actual breasts, and in another few seconds, they had become even bigger than mine and were getting even bigger. His hair was still growing supernaturally fast and, by now, had past his shoulders. In addition, it appeared to be turning blonde, starting at the root. A tan of some kind had appeared from seemingly out of nowhere and began to cover his arms, legs, and face. His lips suddenly became swollen, as if stung. By now, he had an exaggerated hourglass figure with breasts that looked more fake than natural, and as I looked below at where his manhood should have been, I realized that it appeared to be completely gone.

            "Like, what happened to me?"

            He--the bombastic-looking tart that was once my child--finally spoke but his--I guess I should say, her voice sounded nothing like it used to. She sounded like one of those ditzy, flighty, less-than-intelligent girls he used to ogle over on TV. I finally snapped back into reality, and the moment I dropped off our groceries, I took my transformed son to an emergency room. My private "fear meter" was through the roof. I felt so helpless, not knowing what had happened before my eyes. At last, a doctor came to me in the waiting room and hit me with a horrible truth. Somehow, my son had contracted what the papers were calling the "Bimbo Virus". They said that their hands were tied, that was no vaccine for it, and that he--she could be like this for a long time, if not for the rest of her days.

            My heart sank. I felt absolutely helpless. My son was, more or less, doomed to a life as this! I would have to retrain him--her on how to do the simplest of tasks. She would be a laughingstock simply for how she looked or dressed. I couldn't bear the thought of telling people that she was once my baby boy. They'd never believe me anyway. Alas, I'm likely just one of many mothers who lost their child to the "Bimbo Virus".