Mac was adamant that Frank’s bachelor party be in a stripclub, and you didn’t really have a better suggestion. That’s why you’re here, and you definitely regret it. You still struggle to think of a better idea your friend group would enjoy, all of them very pleased to find out about Mac’s plan to just get drunk and pay for a bunch of dances.
It’s not like they went to a strip club very often, which is what made it so enticing for them. You, on the other hand, don’t feel comfortable with random women getting paid to dance for you. You’re also self conscious about your body, and know if any girl touches you they’ll judge your obesity.
These anxieties followed you all week, spiking any time you gave the party some thought. And now they’ve come to life, altering your movements and forcing you to act like an awkward ass. Eventually you give up, and decide not to pay for further embarrassment. The free buffet screams for you, and your racing heart begs for a break from the torture.
A combination of lightbulb and emotional addiction spark in your mind, and next thing you know you’re chomping down on several different styles of chicken wings. The boneless are easiest to eat, so you run through the first tray pretty quickly. Like a man on a mission you move on to the next tray of wings, cautiously biting the salty flesh off the bone and slowly filling the gaping imbalance of boredom and anxiety in your stomach.
Before you finish those, you notice that the rest of the wings are boneless as well. You much prefer to eat without worrying about choking, so you stack your plate up with a few different varieties of chicken nuggets.
“You know, Pal… The buffet is just supposed to keep you fed enough to stay, I haven’t seen you get a single dance tonight! Better half scare you out of it?” A greasy guy in a suit asks you intimidatingly, getting in your face as you react in surprise.
“No, I’m single- just a little nervous, so-”
“Nervous?!” Why would you be nervous??” The man cuts you off, laughing as you pull at your ill fitting shirt.
“None of these girls are gonna judge you, big guy. And if they do, so what?? They’re fucking strippers!
Just give them twenty bucks, and relax.”
“I don’t know, I’m still kinda hungry…” You trail off, trying to avoid eye contact as you move toward the spicy wings.
Suddenly a cold hand grabs your neck, and you’re frozen in place as a chill runs down your spine. Your shoulder blades go as you take shallow breaths, somehow terrified but completely calm as the man whispers into your ear from behind you.
“We only have paying patrons and dancers here, so if you’re not paying…” He trails off as your vision spirals, and soon you can’t see a thing.
The sounds of the club slowly fade as your body goes numb, and you feel like you’re floating as the man’s voice penetrates the void.
“Remember when we were all on social media? When girls would post pictures of themselves dancing, just to show off their bodies?
Remember all those college girls with boobs bigger than their bodies could handle, bouncing them for views and followers? Of course you do, and there’s a good reason for that.” The man says, somehow conjuring vibrant memories of different girls as he speaks.
Watching videos of your classmates shaking their hips for the camera, happily going along with the latest sexualized trend as you gleefully stalk their profiles. And the college girls with boobs too big to wield, bouncing like their lives depended on it.
“You always showed off your belly…” He warmly breathes into your ear, and suddenly you imagine a robustly plump girl with her belly showing.
Why’s your phone so far away though?
Wait, why is the girl on screen copying your movements?
Is that-
“Don’t stop eating.” The man suddenly interrupts your thoughts, and you can feel your hand reach for your plate as the girl’s hand reaches for her phone.
She hits record as you grab a wing, and you watch her dance from her own bouncing perspective as you munch down on the chicken. You grab two more as the girl in your memory smiles affirmatively, and she continues jiggling as you eat.
“I figured if you wanted to eat all my food, it may as well benefit me…
So I might bend your past to fit the present that I want, but don’t worry cuz you’ll be way past the present I want!” The man kisses your earlobe, making you cringe as his stupid line echoes in your head.
“Maybe spending most of your time at college dancing for likes wasn’t a great idea, cuz six years later and you still had no degree. Granted you were a lot better at dancing, but you didn’t have the stamina or curves to really make it in any sort of real way.
That’s when you had your growth spurt, and it quickly became apparent that college wasn’t for you. No guy could pass you without trying to grab your traffic stopping curves, and you soon decided to get away from the creepy teens.
I remember the first video you sent me, begging to join my club. Your hips and ass were unbelievable, but we pride ourselves on having the bustiest girls. That angle didnt do you any favors, plus we could barely see your face because of the bad lighting…
I tried convincing ownership to bring you on anyway, but they refused!” The man recalls, hand rubbing your belly as you continue eating.
Years of just building a pitiful following on social media fills your head, and you regret not studying at all. Then one day you woke up with wider hips, and after a week you couldn’t walk through campus without being groped. You quickly decided to really profit from your body, but got rejected by the only strip club in town for not being busty enough.
It’s not like your boobs shrank at all, they’re still FF; your body’s just a lot bigger, so your chest looks smaller.
And that camera angle definitely didn’t help…
“Depressed about the rejection and with a growing body requiring high caloric intake, you quickly spiraled out of control. You eventually had to drop out of college due to a lack of enough money, having spent most of it on food.
And don’t stop eating now!” The man laughs as he squeezes your neck a little harder, making you whimper as your hands obey his words and stuff your face with fried delights.
Memories of gradual weight gain now pour into your head, and soon your hourglass figure is gone. You end up whoring yourself out for cash, but a lack of customers forces you to get desperate enough to charge less than minimum wage!
“Then came the day you were hired for a bachelor party at the club, and I somehow managed to recognize your face! You gained a bit of weight, but your boobs grew as well!!
Keep eating!” The man whispers harshly in your ear, and you continue to engorge yourself even as your stomach begins to hurt.
The pain slows you down, but the man has a plan for that. He releases your neck to massage your bloated belly, somehow rearranging the fat and bringing his hands together from either side of your torso to cinch in your waist. Your butt immediately balloons out, sucking your pelvis back and changing your posture as your hips flare out.
Your body is able to move faster as your stomach empties, and without his hand on your neck you can move freely. You don’t want to move though, somehow extremely hungry as pounds of strip club buffet food continue to go down your throat. You gracefully move your hands straight from the table to your mouth, using both of them as you eat enough calories to kill an elephant.
“After I fixed you up we always try to get you to eat more, now it’s like all the weight goes straight to your tits!” He laughs, pinching your tender nipple as you whimper.
You can feel the surging fat in your chest shape into boobs, your nerves flaring with arousal as they become more sensitive.
“I brought you into my office, and begged you to unbound your marvelous body from the tight outfit squeezing your body. And once you peeled that dress off, I knew you’d never put one on again; I had to take a picture when I saw the pure joy on your face. Congratulations on getting the job, you deserve it.” The man grins into your ear, bringing a new feeling of blissful pride into your mind.
Only the best dancers work for Curtis, and it seems like you’re his favorite!! Maybe he’ll even let you-
“Stop! What the hell??
Why am I so… happy?!
I wanna see!!! Why is it still so dark, I wanna see what you're doing to me!!” You exclaim, able to feel every inch of you jiggle as the last few ounces of denial drain out of you.
“Okay, but just a warning…” He trails off as his hands mold your bust, “You wouldnt stop begging for implants even with your big boobs, so I agreed to pay for them when you brought me a contract. You would work at my strip club forever, and I would get you breast enhancements whenever you wanted.
I don’t know who won the deal, but seven surgeries later, and becoming my most popular girl by far… I think you’re gonna like working here.”
You instinctively prepare for more changes, but foreign objects inflating within your body is totally different than any previous transformation. Even your manhood turning into dripping virgin folds had a recognizably organic feeling, but silicone filled bags suddenly filling your chest is like nothing you ever felt.
You rmemeber everything; the seven surgeries, recovery, signing the contract, working as a prostitute… It all feels so real!
“That’s cuz it is.” Curtis interjects, somehow reading your thoughts.
You wanna scream, but your lungs are busy being crushed by rapidly growing implants. Then suddenly your vision comes back, and the first thing you notice is your giant boobs. You open your mouth to say something about them, but then the desire to have an even bigger bust overwhelms you.
“I don’t want these- boobies- fuck, they’re making me feel so… I think we need to go up another size, Daddy- shit, why is this making me so hot!” You giggle involuntarily, bringing your elbows toward your waist and bouncing your heaving bosom.
“I hope you like dancing, cuz it’s the only way you’re gonna make any money for a while!” Curtis laughs as he plays with your breasts, “Now I’m gonna go take care of your friend, security’s been alerting me that he’s groping all the girls. Sorry I don’t have time to change you any more, but we’ll definitely get you back to the operating room soon!”
You can do nothing more than watch as he grabs your friend by the back of the neck, making him freeze up just like you had. Even with all your new memories, your core thoughts and self are still unchanged. You have different experiences and desires, your body now a cauldron of steaming arousal that really overwhelms everything else.
You feel a lot more confident in a body you actually want, though your feelings in strippers haven’t changed. The only difference now, you’re really on the wrong side of things!
“I saw everything.” The future groom suddenly says to you, pulling twenty dollars out of his pocket.
You hadn’t noticed him come up from behind you, and jump in surprise. His eyes follow your bouncing breasts as you blush, now contemplating the implications of his twenty dollars.
Does he want a dance??
You can’t- But where else are you gonna get money from?
O no…
Don’t look at his- Why is his boner turning you on???
You smile calmly and take the money, then bring the future groom to a chair facing Mac and let his tented pants sit between your basketball sized butt cheeks. You watch as Curtis whispers into Mac’s ear, aging him dozens of years and turning him into a blonde stripper.
“For being such a jerk, I just took more than twenty five years off your life completely! You’ll have no additional memories between yesterday and tomorrow, but you will be over fifty years old. You don’t like working at the strip club, but it’s the only place guys can touch you without going any further. You’re not into men after all, but you can only get off on them touching you.
You know you should just live a normal life, but you’ve become addicted to guy’s touching your most intimate areas. Security makes sure nobody goes any further than groping you, but it could get pretty rowdy!” Curtis laughs, slapping Mac’s ass and making her convulse euphorically.
“More!!” She cries out in a husky voice, lust dripping off every inch of the wall as she fills the room with a new aura.
You’re lifted out of your seat as the future groom gets up and gravitates toward Mac, and soon you’re practically watching an orgy as other guys and strippers start to gather together.
You feel awkward joining, still in your own head about how people will judge your movements and looks. You sit down and cross your legs, pouting your plump lips as you contemplate the future life of a socially awkward self conscious stripper. Hopefully Mac doesn’t mind letting you grope her gilfy body, cuz it might be your only outlet from this new life. You definitely remember dating several guys in the past, but you don’t look forward to salivating over them for the rest of your life.