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Anonymous

This Does Not Feel Like A Punishment (bimbo, BE, mc, dg, IQ)

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This Does Not Feel Like A Punishment (bimbo, BE, mc, dg, IQ)

 

Chapter 1

 

My name is Cassandra Bishop. I am a bestselling author at only 26. My series of young adult books The Witch Duels have sold millions around the world, with a first movie due out next year. I am rich and powerful, and the world is waiting to see what I do next. However I am nowhere near as successful personally as I am professionally. Years of university and the lifestyle of an author has left me obese, and very desperately single. I was never beautiful on the outside.

 

I wake up in a nearly empty shipping container. Which is very strange. And terrifying. I begin to scream as loud as possible, hoping for someone to hear me, but after five minutes I give up. I stand up and begin to explore the container, looking desperately for a way to open the door. But the only contents were a tiny wooden table with two wooden chairs in the centre, a battery powered lamp, a portable radio and an old antique mirror stood in one of the corners opposite the doors. Desperately trying to avoid seeing myself in the mirror. I sit and I wait for something to happen. I've been kidnapped and I need to remain calm. The last thing I can remember is going to bed, and I am still wearing my pyjamas.

 

About two hours later, one of the doors opens suddenly, and a man slips in, before the door shuts again I have barely gotten out of my seat. The man is tall, slender and handsome, in his mid 20s and wearing a long brown trench coat and a fedora, as if he had stepped from a gangster movie.

 

“Hello there Miss Bishop.” He smiles creepily.

 

“Uh… Hello?” I have no idea what to say.

 

“Oh, for now, Miss Bishop, you may call me Kenneth.” He removes his coat, revealing a brown three-piece suit, places his coat on the back of the chair and sits down opposite me.

 

“Kenneth…” The world feels strange in my mouth. “Why am I here?”

 

“Miss Bishop. You have been charged with degrading our community and that's why we have taken you.”

 

“Your community? I don't understand.”

 

“Your books, The Witch Duels, are very popular with humans. In them, a young woman is taken into a community full of wizards and witches and learns how to be one of them. They are all but tricksters, jokers and petty criminals. It is rather insulting to us real magic users.”

 

“Are you high? It's a story. There's no such thing as magic.”

 

“I'm afraid Miss Bishop, you are going to find out first-hand that you could not be more wrong. I shall see you tomorrow.” Kenneth stands up, takes his coat and leaves abruptly, leaving me completely bewildered.

 

As the door closes, I feel an intense pain, doubling over and falling off my chair. I writhe in pain on the ground as my entire body is consumed with hellfire. I can't even open my eyes, but my flesh feels like it is bubbling and I can hear my bones cracking. After five minutes, the pain subsides and I find myself exhausted, lying on the floor. Everything feels numb, but I manage to stand up and walk towards the mirror. My body has completely changed.

 

I am thin. For the first time in my life. My belly formed of late night pizzas is now a toned stomach of a model. My hips have narrowed, so my pyjama pants fell down around my feet. My thighs are so much thinner now. I had gotten used to them touching, and it feels incredibly strange for there to be a considerable gap there. My breasts and butt have shrunk too, but I am still reasonably well endowed. Even my fingers are thinner, and I run them through my hair like the teeth of a comb. I have practically instantly gone from a 300lb loser to a 110lb model. My extra large pyjama shirts now hangs low covering my crotch.

 

This does not seem like a punishment.

 

Anonymous 02/03/17 (Fri) 03:29:25 No.1781

 

?

 

Chapter 2

 

I can't stop looking at my new beautiful body. Everywhere I touch feels new and foreign. I take off my shirt and fondle my breasts. Unable to control myself, I keep rubbing and squeezing as my other hand makes its way to my vagina. I collapse with pleasure instantly, as I have the most intense orgasm I have ever had. I sit with my naked back against the cold metal wall and gasp for air.

 

Suddenly, the sensation of the orgasm changes, and I feel a strong vibration around my vagina. I watch as my unkempt pubic hair retreats into my skin, leaving me smooth, as if I had been waxed. That vibration moves around my body, over my legs and arms and to my armpits, as I become completely hairless below my neck. I can't help smile and shout.

 

“You aren't very good at punishing people! You're giving me exactly what I want!”

 

“Why that's the idea, my dear,” Kenneth's voice whispers in my ear. I look around but he isn't in the container. His voice is disembodied, and seems omnipresent.

 

“I thought you were going to punish me.”

 

“We're going to give you too much of what you want.” The whisper is followed by a loud laugh. I try to provoke him into speaking more, but it appears to be futile as he doesn't reply. I sit there for about another half an hour before having a sudden realisation. If I orgasm again, I might get even more beautiful. I quickly reposition myself onto my back on the floor and start masturbating again. After a few minutes, I climax and quickly sit up, eager to see the next change to my body.

 

My short, brown hair lengthens before my eyes, until it reaches down over my breasts. Then the ends begin to curl as it becomes shinier and glossier, as if I have spent hours on it. Then it all begins to lighten, leaving me with a head of golden locks. I'm amazed, and start to giggle. And then I realise what I was doing. That was a bonafide giggle, not my usual laugh. The fear returns, but so does something else. Horniness. Pure, unadulterated horniness.

 

I try to stop myself but my hands know the routine now. One plunges towards my vagina whilst the other starts squeezing my breasts. I try to stop but I'm enjoying it too much. This orgasm rearranges my face, leaving me with large adorable eyes, a button nose and plump lips. I am gorgeous. I could get any guy I wanted. But it still feels like not enough. And why shouldn't I embrace this? A giggle is nothing to worry about.

 

This does not seem like a punishment.

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