"You are resleeved as a woman." Your lawyer warns you. "So, if you fall into that life again." her voice dripping in contempt for that metaphor.
"You'll very much be the product rather than the seller, or the buyer." the judge clarified.
"But... But, I had a deal!" you protest. Looking desperately around for a friendly face.
"This is in your deal." The lawyer tells you. "It was the best agreement you were going to get." Ms. Tanaka tells you. She shrugs, "If you had read it, and found it objectionable. I could've argued for a male body."
"You know I'd want a male body!" you shriek.
"You sound awfully emotional, and hormonal. That sounds like a woman." Hoshi repeats what was in your affidavit. "It was how you targetting your victims."
"You can't! You can't remake me, as one of... one of them!"
Your protests die as you feel the sting of the injection. The nanites injected into your body, the process already irreversible.
"You'll soon be one of those hormonal heifers, too."
Whimpering you feel the court grow bigger around you. A strangle cry as you realise you're smaller now. Standing just a couple of inches taller than the petite Ms. Tanaka. Whereas you previously were fully a head taller than her.
Worse, your chest and ass hurt. The expand relentlessly larger with every passing moment. Your pelvis flexing to keep up with your enormous hips and ass!
You can feel them, but it's the bust that fills your vision. Each breast bigger than your head, too heavy to lift, your clothes consumed to become a latex catsuit. Nothing is left to the imagination, as you feel it dive deep into your ass crack.
The look of cold fury on your face as you give one ass cheek a slap.
It's only as you try to walk away do you realise quite how bad it all is. Your ass cheeks ripple and roll with each step. Your bust heavily sloshing from side to side, in a counter-rhythm that gives you an eye-catching strut.
"Oh, and a final gift." Hoshi blows you a kiss. As you wonder what she means, your lips tingle, and bloat too. They gain a lush, glittery coat of permanent lipstick that draws any eyes that reach as high as your face, ensuring they'll be drawn to those lush bimbo blow-job lips. Or if you're very lucky to those wide, innocent eyes.
"Yeah -like- thanks." You answer. Though you try for defiance, it sounds like snark, and delivered with all the menace of a valley girl bimbo. You grimace belatedly realising your ability to swear is locked away, as is your ability to -like- talk properly, -like- an adult.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.12 seconds at 5:53pm on Nov 09, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author