Chapter 3: A Magic Halo Molds The Bimbo Goddess

Fink watched the girl on the throne.

After she had fainted, nimble fingers had freed her from her leather mace. It left her stark naked. Her pale flesh shone ever so vulnerable in the glaring spotlights.

He could see her well through the crystal-clear screen. It had sunk down now, covering her like a bell. Most guests and their bimbos had moved to Fink's end of the hall to watch what would happen.

At first their patience was tested. The girl just sat there, naked. Her eyes were closed, her head lolled on her neck.

Forlorn moans struggled through the screen to be heard.

Then a green ring of disembodied light sank down from the top of the glass dome. When it reached the crown of her head it painted her skull with its eerie glow. The girl's moaning increased until it seemed to fill the entire hall. All the crawling bimbos responded with sighs. Their hands fluttered up and down their glorious bodies.

They fondled nipples, rubbed their clits like a ritual.

Their sweet heads were empty and airy. But they, better than anyone else there, knew what went on in the head of the girl on the throne.

A wave of sexual energy seemed to be collected from the wriggling bimbos. It concentrated in one huge beam, focusing on the far away glass dome. A towering wave of hot sensuality crashed into the tied and moaning figure behind the curved glass.

She shook and spasmed, then became limp.

The ring of light slowly descended. It now reached her eyes.

Buffy saw what happened.

As from a distance she saw herself. The limp body. The closed eyes. A flash of green light had entered her skull. It had pushed back all that was fuzzy, dark or confusing. It had sent all her thoughts and doubts scurrying off like little furry animals.

A green sun rose over her open, empty mind. A clean and clear day had begun.

Her eyes flew open.

A tidal wave of energy submerged her. Sweet sighing voices kissed her ears. They were voices she envied. They promised a sweetness she ached for. An incredible softness of pink she begged to engulf her.

She moaned. Her open thighs dripped with a new, hot wetness.

Everybody saw what happened.

The dirty blonde hair grew lighter where the green ring licked it. The skin of her brow relaxed. The anxious frowning was massaged away by soft green fingers. The eyebrows furled and unfurled like the sweet feathery wings of a hummingbird.

Then they stretched into the most perfect of arches.

Tormented eyes relaxed and opened. Their irises took on the glow of the green light, gaining golden flecks and a silver sparkle.

The eyelids stretched until they became the wide-open windows to a baby's innocent gaze. The whites were retouched into perfection.

The lashes grew into lush little forests.

Unseen fingers sculpted her nose. The bridge narrowed and straightened; the almost translucent nostrils flared with tender elegance.

Buffy couldn't see. But oh, she felt.

Her head was as bright as the sun. There were no clouds of anguish anymore. A sweet perfumed wind had blown them away. No dark thoughts of fear were left. No stress. No heavy burden of responsibility. She felt free. She just felt like an angel unfurling its wings. Ready to soar over the bright landscape of her inner self.

She giggled. It made her body tremble.

Ah, her body.

Was it there at all? Buffy felt as if everything below her chin was under water. Cool and numb and in eternal twilight. As if she floated through a thick blanket of mist.

The green light was everywhere.

It kissed her brow, her eyes, her temples, her cheeks. She felt her lips tingle, her earlobes glow.

Her head floated.

She was on her way to heaven.

Hundreds of eyes stayed glued to the girl in the green halo.

It had reached her mouth now. It moved up and down her gasping lips. They slowly changed from a narrow slash of determination into the soft, full flesh of lustful abandon. They seemed to swell until they were soft pink pillows. Her pointy, elongated tongue licked them, leaving a shining trace.

Then the green ring sank over her throat.

It smoothed the skin and stretched the neck into perfect elegance. It also did what eyes couldn't see. It massaged the muscles inside her throat. It made them strong and supple, a rippling tunnel of delight, straight down her gullet.

As if pulling at it, the ring had stretched her hair until it danced around her face in a frame of silver curls.

The sweetest cloud of platinum seduction.

By now her shoulders bathed in the greenish light. It rubbed her clavicles into gracious fragility. It stretched her shoulders, widening them to make room for her pièces de résistance: they made a welcome cradle for her bimbo tits.

Amazed murmurs rose from the audience.

The flesh on her ribs started to undulate. It plied and stretched. It filled out. It morphed gradually into two lovely hills of the softest velvet. They rounded out, riding high on her frame.

And it seemed as if their magic growth might never stop.

Their sweet pale lushness swelled into a pair of incredibly firm orbs. They stood round and proud, using every inch of her widened chest. On top of them two nubs grew into the most excellent nipples. They seemed to pop up from dollar sized areola. They reached out, getting hard like bullets. And in their growth they took the flesh at their roots with them, pulling it into a new puffiness.

The girl started to tremble in her chair.

Her voice rose into a high, yet dreamy moaning.

Buffy screamed. But nobody heard her.

As soon as the green light had left her brain, cruel reality had returned. She once more felt her restraints. She saw all the eager faces focusing on her. And most of all she saw the mocking, triumphant face of Fink.

She felt what happened to her body.

She could not look down to see. But she felt the churning, the pulling and pushing at her flesh. She felt the swelling of her lips. The stretching of her tongue. The strengthening of her throat.

Then she felt invisible hands molding her shoulders. She closed her new eyes. She opened her new fat lips and tried to scream. But only a sweet, stretched moan rose from them.

Her nipples glowed. She could hardly bear the pleasure and pain. They were twisted, they were tweaked. It seemed as if giant hands kneaded her tits. My God, what did they do to them? Buffy arched her back.