Episode 13

Finale, Part 2

Jane blinks in confusion as the world swirls around her, and then stumbles against the wall, catching her breath. She looks down at her body, still feeling so incredibly strange with the sudden modifications. She can feel the tingling in her nipples and lower, from the exploding pleasure of the jingling piercings now penetrating her most sensitive flesh. She draws a shuddering sigh as she sees that at least she is clothed - wearing what appears to be a too-tight t-shirt with some letters on it, and shorts, though that is all - her large breasts are completely unhelped by a bra. She seems to be barefoot. But at least most of those horrible tattoos are covered.

Her too-young body feels as strange as the piercings. Softer, smoother skin, and tighter and perkier in certain places. Though her tits still ache with fullness, noticeably larger than they were for her at this age from their milk. Indeed, her white shirt is already starting to show stains around her nipples, the piercings also visible under the wet fabric. She shifts a little and watches her soft, big boobies jiggle and hears the jingle of her piercings.

“Jingle Boobies!” Jane giggles, a vapid smile coming over her face as she stands there for a moment jiggling herself and listening to the sound. Then a horrified expression comes over her and she bites her lip with a sob, as she realizes what she is doing. She closes her eyes, trembling, clearly trying to think through the pink velvet coating her brain.

When she opens her eyes again, she quickly starts to look around, as though finally remembering what she is doing here. She looks around what appears to be some sort of large, rustic meeting room, with benches and a low stage at the front. It is empty and from the dark windows, clearly night outside.

As she spins, her eyes alight on a mirror, and she automatically smiles broadly at her slutty-looking self in reflection, then grimaces and tries to concentrate. She is staring at the bright red words scrawled across her ample chest, curving in between her soft, dripping tits. She furrows her brow, staring at the reversed words in the mirror.

“C C C-a C-aaa,” Jane grimaces, and then lets out a truly pitiful sob, tears welling up and biting her lip again as she realizes with dismay that what should be the trivially easy task of reading the first, shorter word - even reversed in the mirror - is almost more than her dim little brain can handle. After a moment she gets her crying under control, wiping the tears from her eyes, and screws up her face in a pout of concentration, pointing carefully at each letter.

“C - A - M - P ... Caaaa Caaaammmm.Cammmmmp. Camp! Camp!”

Jane’s face erupts in delight as she bounces and claps her hands, so incredibly proud of herself for sounding out the four letter word. Other parts of her bounce and jingle as she grins brightly at herself in the mirror, having completely forgotten again what she was doing other than sounding out the word.

“C-Can I help you?” a male voice says, shakily.

Jane turns - and draws a sharp breath as she stares at the tall, skinny, and somewhat handsome teenage boy staring at her agape. She grins brightly and points at her boobs.

“It says ‘Camp’!” she says proudly in her cartoonishly bright voice.

The boy turns scarlet, staring at the strange, heavily made up girl’s breasts, her pierced nipples clearly visible under the wet fabric, and then forcibly tearing his eyes upwards.

“Uhhhh “ he says, obviously stunned.

Jane blinks, and then brightly points at the boy’s matching shirt, above a pair of swim trunks.

“Yours says ‘Camp’, too!”

She scowls cutely and walks over to the boy, not noticing his wide-eyed stare. She puts her nose almost to his chest, a finger pointing at the letters on his shirt that matches the second word on her own. Frowning with concentration, her little tongue sticking out, Jane tries again to read.

“T Te Teeeee Titties?” Jane giggles again, and looks up at the boy, who has now backed against the wall, “Is it Camp Titties? That’s funny! I have big titties! With lots of milk!”

The boy stares at her for a moment, clearly completely uncertain what on earth to do. Finally he manages to stammer out:

“I-It’s T-Tetonka. Camp Tetonka. Not, um it says Tetonka.”

He swallows hard.

Jane looks up at him, blinking for a moment, then looks down at the shirt with another scowl. Then she giggles.

“Oh. Not titties,” she frowns a little, as though trying to read the word for herself, but then clearly gives up. However, she cocks her head, still concentrating, “Camp Tetonka wait, I been there! When I was a girl! I went there! I was a wassa word a con a can”

“A-A counselor?” the boy asks, clearly with utter disbelief.

“Yeah!” Jane says, brightly, nodding and jiggling and jingling in a way that makes the boy’s eyes drop and widen again, “One a those! I like playing! You know with um”

She looks up again, suddenly seeming to realize how close she is to the boy. She smiles with innocently wide eyes, blinking up at him, and licks her permanently ruby-red lips, making them glisten. Then she bites the bottom one adorably.

“You’re really cute,” she breathes, then her brow furrows as she stares at him, “Wait do I know you?”

“Uhhhhh,” the boy says, then manages to choke out, “I - I think I’d remember”

Jane stares at him for a few moments, something trying to click behind her eyes - then she seems to forget what she was worrying about, and licks her lips again, breathing heavily now. Beneath her t-shirt, her leaking nipples stiffen visibly. He is backed up against the wall, as she leans into him, her soft breasts pressing into his shirt.

“You smell nice,” she breathes in a husky voice, cuddling in to him. The boy makes a small choked sound as she rubs up against him, standing on her brightly painted tiptoes now, her mouth close to his.

“W-wait,” he rasps, though hardly convincingly, “M-my I have a g-girlfriend”

“Mmmm,” Jane moans softly, “OK she can play with us too then”

The boy groans at that response, and then Jane levers herself up to drop her lips onto his. Any resistance the boy might have mustered is blasted away under the pure sex onslaught of the red-and-pink-headed vision squirming against him, and with a soft moan, he begins kissing her back. Jane lets out a squeal when his hands drop to her ass, the devil’s tail down the back of her thigh seeming to twitch over her skin with delight. The camera picks up a glistening dribble of wetness starting to roll down the inside of Jane’s thigh from under her shorts, the bright lettering on the inside of her thighs visible beneath the short shorts.

Suddenly the boy moans loudly, his eyes flaring open to stare in shock at the grinning redhead, who pulls back to reveal that one painted hand has slid inside his trunks where it is wriggling inside. She draws a small gasp of happy breath as she clearly finds what she is looking for, and begins to slide down. The crotch of her own shorts are soaked - and she sports a disturbingly similar lump to the boy’s in front though there is no chance of him noticing it.

She is practically gasping for breath as she fumbles at the knot on his swim trunks in her squat, the tattoos on her thighs and feet clearly visible, though not from his angle. When she finally figures out how to undo the simple bow and slides them down, his cock pops free instantly - very large, and throbbingly purple. She makes a pathetically pleased noise as it dangles in her face.

“Wh-what are you ohhhhhhh fffffffuccck!”

The boy almost sobs as those ruby lips slip warmly over the head, and her pierced tongue strokes the underside. Jane makes a sobbing moan of delight, like she has been in the desert for days and the hard cock in her mouth is pouring water down her throat. From the sounds the boy is making it is quite clear that soon it will be pouring in something much warmer - though probably just as desperately wanted by the now cum-loving Jane...

Ginny lets out a long, low whine, as she scrambles to her paws, looking around frantically, trying to figure out where she is. There is a bounce, and she realizes with horror that she is in a vehicle - and in a dog crate. She perches there trembling, processing the feelings from her horribly bizarre body, and starts to let out low, pathetic whines.

Ginny has always hated dogs.

She was the outlier in her family for that - in fact, her mother and father met when her mom was working at a dog shelter. Her dad liked dogs - but her mom always loved them, and so did Ginny’s sisters. They’d always had a couple small dogs around the house, which Ginny didn’t mind but didn’t love. But when she was little she’d been chased by a larger dog from her neighbor’s yard, and from that point on, her feelings towards them ranged from nervousness to outright fear.

And now

Oh god.

She is one.

Her whimpers and sobs turn into a yelp, as the car she is in suddenly stops and she slides towards the rear of the crate, her claws scrabbling on the plastic. After a moment she hears a door open - and then a few moments later, turns her head away from bright sunlight as the rear door of what she now realizes is a van opens up.

She is still blinking when the door to her crate opens, and a hand reaches in - and grabs the collar that she belatedly realizes with horror is jingling around her neck. And worse - she realizes as there is a gentle tug on her throat - there is now a leash attached to that collar.

Whining softly, she nonetheless follows the tugging, being led out of her crate and jumping nimbly down onto the ground before looking up, blinking again, at the large, beer-bellied man in a brown uniform standing over her.

Her stomach turns over.

He’s a dog catcher.

“You sure are a weird lookin’ one, aintcha?” he says with a low drawl, “Well, let’s get you inside - you’re their problem now.”

Trembling and terrified, she pads along behind the man, docilely letting him lead her on her leash. She blinks, looking around, trying to figure out where she is. She appear to be in the countryside, on a cool but pleasant summer day, the wind rippling her fur.

Suddenly her fur prickles, along with attendant goosebumps on the parts of her are still human, as she realizes that what she is hearing with her much more sensitive hearing is the barking of dogs nearby. Many dogs.

Her stomach turns over as she feels her nipples harden as something inside her recognizes the sound of male dogs.

She lets out a low whine as the man leads her through a doorway.

Ginny looks up, to find herself in what is obviously some sort of receiving area. At the desk, a youngish man with glasses is leaning, talking to a woman behind the counter facing the other way. At the entry of the dog catcher with Ginny in tow, the man straightens up, blushing slightly and adjusting his glasses.

Ginny stares up at him, brow furrowing over her muzzle. He looks very familiar, but she can’t quite place him.

“Oh, uh miss? You have a visitor,” the man says, sticking his hands in his pockets, “I’ll - uh, I should go.”

“Oh dear,” the woman behind the counter says, with genuine-sounding disappointment, “Well, I - OK, it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, uh”

The man trails off, and turns to leave, nodding at the dog catcher. Something about his voice, his demeanor

Ginny’s eyes go wide, and she lets out a long, low whine of horror, as he looks down at her with a smile, and pauses long enough to scratch her behind the ears, giving her a strong whiff of his scent in her hyper-sensitive dog’s nose.

That’s her father!

He stands and steps away towards the door...

“Hey Burt,” the woman says, her voice also familiar.

“Hey Helen,” the dog catcher replies.

Helen?!

Ginny turns to stare at the curvy little woman with blonde curls who steps up behind the counter, and whines again.

Her mom.

With a horrified realization, Ginny turns stares after the man walking out the door. The man who is her father, who met her mom on a cool but pleasant summer’s day at the dog shelter where she worked, and talked for hours before helping her close. Then took her to dinner - their first date. Before her father left on a monthlong business trip

Her father, who is currently leaving before any of that can occur.

Without thinking about it, Ginny lunges towards him, yelling for him to wait, to stay - but of course what comes out are the panicked barks and yelps of the mostly-dog she has become. The man stops and recoils slightly, at the sight of the odd-looking dog barking at him.

Suddenly, her barks are cut off with a loud yelp, and she chokes as the holder of her leash jerks her back. Blushing, her father ducks out the door, and is gone.

“BAD DOG!” the dog catcher roars.

Ginny is groveling on the floor, her small breasts and nipples grinding into the linoleum. She sobs softly - manifesting as pitiful whines - as she realizes the warm liquid running down her legs indicates that she has just peed herself as she threw herself to the floor in abject submissiveness. Her stomach is knotted with self-loathing as she squirms, her ass in the air as her pussy continues to dribble down her leg.

“Sorry about that Helen,” the dog catcher rumbles, “Don’t know what got into her. She’s a funny lookin’ one, but she’s been real docile up until that little show. Sorry she made a mess here.”

“Oh that’s alright,” the young little blonde woman chirps, “Certainly not the worst that I’ve had to deal with. Heck, not even the worst today. You bringing her in?”

“Yup. Here you go.”

The man shuffles over to the counter, and from the gentle tug on her collar Ginny realizes her leash is being handed over. To her mother. She whines softly on the floor.

“Huh,” the man says, glancing down at her, “You know, her fur is just about the same color as your hair. Pretty color...”

The man trails off, blushing as he realizes what he just says. Helen pulls absently on one of her curls, blushing herself and glancing down at the groveling blonde dog.

“Uh”

“Anyway,” the man says, clearing his throat, “So - hey, I was thinkin’ I might walk down the road to that market and grab a sandwich. You OK if I leave my truck here for a bit?”

“Sure thing, Burt.”

“You want anything?”

“Um - sure I’ll take a tuna sandwich if they have it.”

The man nods, and glances at Ginny’s mom briefly again, and then shuffles out the door.

Helen steps over to the low door, opening it and tugging gently on the leash. Ginny clambers to all fours from her cowering position, staring at the younger version of her mother - hardly slender like Ginny (who gets that from her father), but cherubically curvy-cute rather than heavy as she would become later in life. The little blonde woman is in a light blouse and blue skirt, feet in simple loose sandals. As she lowers into a crouch in front of Ginny, Ginny’s nose twitches from her hypersensitive sense of smell. And she recoils slightly in horror.

She can smell that her mother is, or was, faintly aroused. Ginny lets out a low disgusted whine.

“It’s OK girl,” Helen says soothingly, reaching out a hand under Ginny’s chin as she mistakes Ginny’s reaction for fear, “I won’t hurt you. Just want to take a look at that collar”

Ginny stands, staring up at her mother, waiting desperately for some sign of familiarity, of recognition. She whines softly, suppressing her urge to bark desperately at the girl who will one day be her mother. Pleading with her eyes to realize that she’s not really a dog, in spite of her snout and fur and paws - that she’s a girl underneath, that some of her body is still human - her little breasts and belly and blond-furred pussy, that she is her future daughter, that her name is -

“Buttercup, huh? That’s a pretty name. Too bad your owner didn’t put a phone number or an address or something on here, or we could at least find out where you came from. Well, we’ll take care of you for the time being. C’mon.”

Ginny lets out a soft whine as she starts to follow her young mother, tugging gently on her leash.

Zara stumbles for a moment, and then pulls herself upright, blinking in confusion as her senses are suddenly assaulted by pounding music and the smells of smoke and beer. She blinks furiously, trying to take in her surroundings and the shocking shift from where she’d been a moment before.

She’s obviously at a party - and from the look of two giggling girls who go by, heavily made up but in jeans and t-shirts, some sort of house party or frat party. One of the girls levels a sneering look at Zara before following her friend into the other room. Zara frowns, turning and trying to figure out where she is - and then chokes as she catches herself in the mirror, eyes widening.

This is the first she’s seen of her new blonde hair and her bright blue eyes, making her look shockingly bimbo-ish. But she is hardly even looking at that part of her, horrified as she is at her outfit. Her top - if it can be called that - is a thin sailor-girl shirt ... except that it only barely reaches to the middle of her large fake breasts, over which it is stretched precariously. In fact, just the action of turning to look in the mirror has caused the straining fabric to squirm upward and reveal the bottom portion of her dark nipples. The bottoms of her breasts are completely bare, as is her midriff, all the way down to her hips - over which is a slip of navy fabric that could vaguely be called a skirt. From her pussy lips peeking out just below the bottom of the skirt, it is quite clear that in addition to lacking a bra, she is not wearing any panties. Ironically, her feet and ankles are the most dressed parts of her body, with white stockings up to her knees, and white and blue platform heels - sufficiently high that they were what caused her to stumble upon arrival.

With a small squawk of horror she reaches up and tugs the half-shirt down to try to at least partially cover her large breasts. Blushing furiously, she stumbles out of the room in her high heels to try to find someplace to gather her thoughts, and maybe find something to cover herself...

... and finds herself stumbling into a room full of twenty-somethings standing around smoking and drinking to loud thumping punk music.

With another moan of horror, and with no idea what she is supposed to be doing here, Zara tries to scramble along the wall, hoping no one will notice her horrifically exposed-

“Hey, watch it!”

She pulls up after stumbling into a slightly shorter black-haired woman, who swears as she recoils from the beer she just dumped down her front thanks to Zara’s jostling.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I-”

Zara trails off and her eyes go wide as she stares at the woman who turns to glare at her angrily. The woman who in fact is only slightly shorter as she is wearing much more reasonable heels than Zara is currently wearing.

“Mo - uh, Kay!”

The raven-haired woman looks shocked to be recognized - for she is indeed, Kay, albeit probably in her early twenties, like everyone else at the party. Zara stares at her for a long moment - her stomach twisting as she realizes with horror who she must be here to corrupt. Her younger mom, standing there in a beer-soaked black dress...

... stretched over a hugely pregnant belly.

Zara takes a step back, her revulsion towards pregnant women’s bodies surging forward - made worse with the realization that it is her mother’s body ... and thus her inside that pregnant body. Which is the same - albeit a bit older ... and a bit younger - as the one she is currently inhabiting. Beneath a tightly stretched dress, it is obvious that Kay was pre-surgery, with smaller, though swollen, breasts, laying atop her distended belly.

“Do I know you?” Kay says, with a tone that said she certainly hopes not, her face showing barely concealed disgust at the blond girl’s outfit.

“Hey - she kind of looks like you.”

Zara, a little dizzy at the bizarreness of the situation, looks up at the faintly familiar male voice, and realizes that Kay is standing with two other people. The first she thinks looked vaguely familiar, though she can’t place the pretty dark-haired girl, in her late teens or early twenties, who seems a little overdressed for this party. The girl is staring at Zara with an openly horrified expression. The second, she slowly realizes, is her mom’s friend Jonathan who she’d known forever - albeit much younger, and he is staring at her with significantly more wide-eyed appreciation than the two women. Which the hugely pregnant Kay notices and tries to interrupt with a hard smack on his arm.

“Ow!”

“What do you mean she looks like me?” Kay growls.

“Well - she does! Look at her! Right Mindy?”

The other pretty brunette shrugs as though trying to stay out of this, and Kay turns back to glare at the sluttily dressed Zara - and her brow furrows in a frown.

“You know - I hate to admit it, but you’re right - how... ?”

“Yeah - that’s because ... I’m your ... cousin!” Zara, panicked, blurts out, then smiles, rolling with it, “You cousin Zara! From, um, Aunt ... Sarah’s side...”

Kay looks taken aback - she does indeed have an aunt Sarah, though it took Zara’s searching deep in her head to remember her great-aunt who was the black sheep of the family. She just hoped that-

“Oh-K,” Kay says slowly, seeming to buy it, blushing a little as she takes in the obviously modified body of the younger blonde girl, “So ... what are you doing here?”

“Uh ... looking for you?”

Kay looks horrified again.

“Why?”

Zara racks her brain for a long moment, while the three stare at her with varying degrees of disapproval, confusion, and interest (from Jonathan). Too late, she realizes that her blurting out her somewhat unusual name could have had an effect on her mother already - or maybe that was where she thought of the name in the first place? And the thought of touching her mom’s pregnant body makes her feel sick. And the twisty time thing is giving Zara a headache. Which is starting to make her annoyed.

And then she thinks of what the Proprietor said at the end, about being able to affect things - and suddenly a surge of domintatrix-y arousal goes through her...

“Fuck it,” she mutters under her breath, and then steps up to where her body is almost touching Kay’s pregnant form (though not quite, as a twinge of disgust shudders through her) and looms over the other woman in her heels.

“I’m here,” sneered Zara, letting her new love of dominance shine through, “To make sure everyone here sees you for the nasty little slut that you are.”

Kay stumbles back to the wall, eyes going wide with fury and disgust - but her body, overwhelmed by the force of whatever Zara is doing, visibly betrays her, as her nipples suddenly harden into obvious visibility beneath her dress even through her bra, and her nostrils flare.

“F-fuck you, you sick ho-bag,” Kay stammers out, albeit with much less force than Zara knows her mother would usually use. Confusion and fear play across her face as she feels her body betraying her even as she tries to muster up whatever it would take to run away from this bizarre scene.

“Oh my god,” chokes out Mindy, her hand flying to her mouth in disgust. She steps back, clearly planning to get away herself as she tugs on the open-mouthed Jonathan’s hand. Zara whips her head towards the pretty woman, and feels another surge of excitement.

“Where do you think you’re going? You think just because you dress nicer than the people at this party that you’re better than them?”

“N-no, I-”

“Sure you do,” Zara purrs, “But you’re not. I can prove you’re just as much of a slut as Kay here, underneath that preppy outfit of yours. Come over here.”

“But-”

“NOW.”

Mindy jerks at Zara’s steely voice, and stumbles back over to the other two women. Kay is standing pressed against the wall, looking alternatingly furious and terrified. Zara looks up at Jonathan - to find him staring at her. Though his eyes are a little low. Zara glances down to find that her shirt has ridden up again, leaving her large breasts completely visible now. And there is a glistening stream of pussy juice dangling down between her legs.

She doesn’t know if she’s ever felt as aroused as she does right now.

She saunters over to Jonathan - who she’d never admit it to him but she’d always had a little crush on the older version of since she was old enough to think about such things - and presses herself up against him, her large tits hugging his arm. She feels him draw a shuddering breath as she leans in and whispers into his ear as she glances over at the two women.

“Tell me Jonathan,” she whispers, a little too loudly so the girls can hear her, “Have you ever fantasized about seeing the two of them kiss each other? Tell me honestly and I can make it happen...”

“WHAT?” Kay blurts out, “That’s disgusting!”

“I’d never kiss another girl,” chokes out Mindy with all too believable horror.

Jonathan looks torn between the craziness of this fantasy and the knowledge that what he says could have consequences later. But finally he swallows, and jerks his head once in the affirmative. Kay growls at him, and Mindy chokes out a small sob.

“Mmm ... thought so. Well girls, why don’t you give nice Jonathan here what he wants, hmm?”

“What - I’m not going to ... to...” Kay trails off as she and Mindy shudder and turn to face each other with horrified expressions. They lean in - Mindy leaning further over Kay’s belly - and give each other a quick, chaste kiss on the lips before leaning back with a confused look, and a slight relief that that was all -

“Oh come on,” Zara sneers, “let’s see some real kissing. You guys know you desperately want to taste each other’s mouths, all hot and wet ... you’re so hot for each other...”

The two girls both make choked sounds of horror - Kay’s angry, Mindy’s miserable - but lean in again ... and this time begin to passionately kiss each other. They wrap their arms around each other, lips locked as their tongues entwine. They both make whimpers and moans of disgust - but as they continue the kiss, the sounds begin to be punctuated with small moans that sound anything but disgusted.

“That’s right,” Zara moans herself, nearly overwhelmed with arousal at her own power as she rubs herself up against the staring Jonathan, “you sluts were just hiding how desperately you want each other. But you’re soooo horny for each other, aren’t you?”

The two girls’ moans become increasingly passionate, as their hands roam each others’ backs - and begin to caress each other’s asses. Kay squeezes Mindy tightly through her jeans, eliciting a groan - which is returned loudly when Mindy’s fingers grip the actual flesh of Kay’s ass, as her too-tight black dress has ridden up in back considerably.

Zara looks at Jonathan, who is completely hypnotized.

“Want to see them play with each others’ tits?” Zara breathes into his ear.

The two women moan loudly with horror - particularly Zara’s mother, who she knows finds that idea repulsive, even with her yet-to-come experimentation with girls. Kay murmurs something that sounds like “no, please” into Mindy’s mouth. But Jonathan, long past the point of no return, nods again. Zara giggles.

“You heard him, girls.”

With whimpers of disgust, the girls’ hands leave each others’ asses and move around to the front, where they begin pawing at each others’ tits through their clothes, still kissing passionately. Mindy’s covering sweater falls down around her elbows while Kay squeezes her ample tits through the white fabric of her blouse, thumbing her hardening nipples. Mindy squeezes Kay’s through the dress - and Zara giggles as a black stain of wetness begins to spread out across Kay’s chest.

Jonathan moans. Zara glances down, to see his jeans quite visibly bulging out.

“Mmmm,” Zara breathes, and reaches down to stroke the front of his jeans, eliciting a loud gasp, “Someone likes this.” At a sob from one of the girls, Zara giggles, “Not them, yet - but they’ll get there.”

As she slowly unzips Jonathan’s fly, eliciting a moan, she murmurs, “Maybe it’s time for them to show us their tits.”

The girls sob - but can clearly not help themselves. Mindy begins to pull Kay’s dress and bra straps down around her shoulders - but Kay doesn’t bother, and with a sob reaches in and rips Mindy’s blouse open, buttons flying everywhere and revealing the girl’s plain white bra. The two of them wriggle against each other - and quickly Mindy’s white bra falls away, revealing quite perfect perky C-cup breasts, with surprisingly small pink nipples. Moments later, Kay’s dress falls down onto her belly, as her own bra falls away, revealing tits that, were they not swollen with milk, would probably not be much larger than Zara’s former tiny tits. But now they are quite visibly swollen, her dark nipples surprisingly puffy - and they are spraying milk, splattering herself and leaving beads of it across the moaning, sobbing Mindy’s chest.