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“Very good Valeria...now, you are 22 years of age.”
“I’m...not...22...” you muster. You were 18. You haven’t even graduated high school yet! 22 was, like, not even close to your age.
“Oh, but you are 22.”
“I am...22?” You ask, suddenly not so sure of your age, as your hair straightens and your body gets a little thicker. Didn’t you graduate high school? You feel like you did, but anything past that is murky. Your memories are all so fuzzy...and you remember fucking so many more guys than you did a moment ago.
“Valeria, you are 22.”
“Oh...I’m 22,” you say at last, your memories now clear as day. You’re about to graduate college, and it was a total sex fest from start to finish. You went to so many frat parties and fucked so many guys and had so many drinks you can’t remember much else about college without doing some thinking. As you try and remember, your clothes change into something a bit more casual while your body puts on a few more pounds and your favs looks just a tiny bit more mature. You couldn’t believe you were going into the “real world” soon, and while you were going to get your degree, you honestly didn’t see yourself getting a “real” job for a while. You knew you really wanted to be a prostitute somewhere, and that shouldn’t be a problem given your body.
“You have a cute face.”
“I have a cute face,” you repeat with a smile. For a moment, you didn’t really think your face was that cute, but that thought instantly was forgotten as you remembered how round and symmetrical your face was, with your button nose, smooth skin, large eyes, and pronounced dimples. Of course, your face morphed as reality just changed, but to you you always had a cute mug, and that what everyone said about it.
“Lovely. And you’re buxom.”
“B-b-buxom?” You question, stuttering. That can’t be right; you have a practically perfect hourglass body!
“Yes. You are buxom.”
“I’m bux...bux...” you say, trying to resist. You know you aren’t buxom, but you can’t help but look down at your huge boobs. They always seemed just a bit too big for your relatively slim body. You weren’t buxom, though. You knew you weren’t.
“Say it. You’re buxom.”
“I am, um...”
“Buxom.”
“I am buxom,” you say. Your massive breasts, combined with your sizable ass and thick frame, made that fact undeniable. You weren’t chubby or anything, but you were very top heavy and not all that skinny. You wanted an hourglass figure in your teens, but now you are starting you embrace your body and love it. Plus, the guys like it thick quite a lot, especially the man.
“I’m...not...22...” you muster. You were 18. You haven’t even graduated high school yet! 22 was, like, not even close to your age.
“Oh, but you are 22.”
“I am...22?” You ask, suddenly not so sure of your age, as your hair straightens and your body gets a little thicker. Didn’t you graduate high school? You feel like you did, but anything past that is murky. Your memories are all so fuzzy...and you remember fucking so many more guys than you did a moment ago.
“Valeria, you are 22.”
“Oh...I’m 22,” you say at last, your memories now clear as day. You’re about to graduate college, and it was a total sex fest from start to finish. You went to so many frat parties and fucked so many guys and had so many drinks you can’t remember much else about college without doing some thinking. As you try and remember, your clothes change into something a bit more casual while your body puts on a few more pounds and your favs looks just a tiny bit more mature. You couldn’t believe you were going into the “real world” soon, and while you were going to get your degree, you honestly didn’t see yourself getting a “real” job for a while. You knew you really wanted to be a prostitute somewhere, and that shouldn’t be a problem given your body.
“You have a cute face.”
“I have a cute face,” you repeat with a smile. For a moment, you didn’t really think your face was that cute, but that thought instantly was forgotten as you remembered how round and symmetrical your face was, with your button nose, smooth skin, large eyes, and pronounced dimples. Of course, your face morphed as reality just changed, but to you you always had a cute mug, and that what everyone said about it.
“Lovely. And you’re buxom.”
“B-b-buxom?” You question, stuttering. That can’t be right; you have a practically perfect hourglass body!
“Yes. You are buxom.”
“I’m bux...bux...” you say, trying to resist. You know you aren’t buxom, but you can’t help but look down at your huge boobs. They always seemed just a bit too big for your relatively slim body. You weren’t buxom, though. You knew you weren’t.
“Say it. You’re buxom.”
“I am, um...”
“Buxom.”
“I am buxom,” you say. Your massive breasts, combined with your sizable ass and thick frame, made that fact undeniable. You weren’t chubby or anything, but you were very top heavy and not all that skinny. You wanted an hourglass figure in your teens, but now you are starting you embrace your body and love it. Plus, the guys like it thick quite a lot, especially the man.
What now?
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