Not sure which of the deadly sins you should tackle first, your hormones make the decision for you. 'Lust', there's a battle you can enjoy fighting, even if you lose, it'll be fun.
Besides you aren't sure you're not being pranked.
"Lust." you tell the gaunt store owner.
He merely shakes his head, "You don't have to tell me.", with a nod he directs your attention to the jewel in the choker, it's pulsing in time with your heart, changing between a soft pink, and a deep passionate red. Feeling awkward as the owner leans in to secure the choker, you feel his scrabblng finger, and the chill of the metal band.
Apparently satisfied the collar is secure, he steps back to admire it. But it just looks out of place around your neck. It's too refined, too elegant, too feminine to fit with your body or your clothes.
"Eeh... No... Not really for me." you answer, your mouth getting dry, and voice cracking as you speak.
"No. I don't think I'll take this." your voice is now a high whisper.
The shop owner shakes his head, which you take to mean he agrees. But he doesn't.
"The Queen's Sin, has accepted you, and your choice..."
A chill runs through your body, from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes. A dull sense of distance and disconnection following the wave.
As you stand there, you find you can't move. Despite this, your clothes ripple and shift as if alive.
Your face blankly incapable of showing the horrified dread you feel.
"Youth is enthusiasm and powerful." he shrugs, "But it's also inexperience. That's the Queen's Sin."
He emphasises it strangely, as if he's given you an explanation. But you can't even ask for more of an explanation. Only your eyes are under your control. Between one blinked look at the mirror and another, you see a woman replace you. Her clothes nothing more than a dress, split daring down the side. It's the same passionate, lusty red as the jewel at it's deepest shade.
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You watch her chest shift, in time with your breathing. You think momentarily of that gashed side of her dress. The teasing view of her firm full breasts. Even as you feel them shifting with every breath.
"Concentrate." the owner urges, a rare flash of passion colouring his tone.
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You want to reach out, cradle your suddenly shifted bust. The weight already pulling relentlessly at your shoulders. Your gaze darts back to her eyes, to your eyes, and the impotence there. In the mirror, the owner is shaking his head.
"Youth, inexperience... Concentrate!"
An errant thought, she's unbalanced. But before you can dismiss it, you feel another change building. You glower at the reflection, using your anger to drive you not to blink. Inevitably, you fail, and in the blink of an eye you feel your body shift once more.
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You've been blessed with an arse to counterbalance your generous bust. One that J Lo, or Kim Kardashian would flaunt proudly. As if the magic is satisfied, you're released. A shriek of pained horror ripped from your throat, as you stagger back and forth. Your feet arched high into an arch by the high heels.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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