Transit, 35 (Patreon)

Lori’s lips continued to throb, the tingling intensifying to the point where she could hardly ignore it. Her fingers trembled as they rifled through her small red clutch, the sensation at the forefront of her mind. Finally, she felt the cold, familiar shape of a lip balm. Pulling it out quickly, she unscrewed the cap with an unusual precision—her long, manicured nails guiding the motion with surprising ease, as though her hands had already adapted to their exaggerated form.

She twisted the balm upwards, feeling an almost desperate need for relief. As soon as the balm touched her lips, a wave of soothing coolness washed over her. Lori sighed in instant, almost overwhelming relief, her lips parting as the slick layer spread across her mouth. The sensation was intoxicating—immediate, deep, and strangely sensual. Each swipe of the balm across her plump lips seemed to not only ease the burning but awaken something deeper inside her.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her lips now shiny, glistening under the artificial lights. They were fuller than ever, glossy and perfect—like they belonged on someone else, someone who thrived in the attention that such lips demanded. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she traced the curves of her new mouth with a finger. "C***-sucking lips," the thought echoed in her mind, and this time, she didn’t flinch at it. Instead, a shiver ran down her spine.

It wasn’t just her lips, though. It was more. There was a growing sense of something shifting within her, a deep, subtle transformation taking place beneath the surface. She could feel it in the way her heart fluttered a little too fast, the way her thoughts kept slipping from fear to something darker, more curious. The changes were no longer just external. They were seeping into her mind, altering the way she viewed herself—how she felt about what she had become.

Lori’s fingers lingered on her lips, her breath shallow as she leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting every inch of her reflection. She wasn’t the same person she had been just days ago. That much was undeniable. But the real question was: what was she becoming? The woman in the mirror was unrecognizable—a blonde bombshell with a body that seemed tailor-made for seduction. Her lips, her breasts, the curve of her hips in the tight leather shorts… they all screamed of sex, of desire, of something primal.

Her mind raced, torn between panic and a growing acceptance of what she was feeling. The changes weren’t just physical—they were mental, too. A part of her craved this, wanted to lean into the persona she had been forced into. It was as though the woman in the mirror was tempting her, urging her to embrace this new version of herself.

She blinked, tearing her eyes away from the reflection, trying to focus. She needed to get out of here. She couldn’t stay in this hotel, couldn’t let whatever was happening to her continue unchecked. But how? How could she possibly explain this to someone, let alone escape whatever force was at work?

The bartender’s face flashed in her mind, his dark eyes raking over her body with unabashed hunger. Maybe he could help her. Maybe he was the way out—he had been eyeing her like she was a piece of meat, but that could work in her favor. He wanted her, that much was clear. And perhaps she could use that to her advantage.

Her fingers tapped nervously against the cool countertop as she considered her options. Going to the authorities didn’t feel right—who would believe her anyway? But the bartender… he already saw her for what she was, or at least what she appeared to be. And if she could get him on her side, maybe—just maybe—he could help her escape this place.

Lori’s tongue darted out, wetting her lips, the sensation sending a thrill through her that she couldn’t suppress. She was still thinking like the old Lori, the one who was logical, measured, careful. But that wasn’t who she was anymore, was it? The glossy, swollen lips staring back at her were proof of that. The old Lori was gone, replaced by someone new—someone bolder, more willing to take risks, more willing to use her newfound assets to her advantage.

Her fingers grazed her lips one more time, feeling the smoothness of the balm, the plumpness beneath her fingertips. Yes, she could do this. She would go back out there, find the bartender, and convince him to help her. But not as the panicked, confused woman who had first walked into the hotel. No, this time she would be in control. She would use every bit of her new self to seduce him, to make him want to help her. It was a gamble, but what other choice did she have?

She straightened up, adjusting her top and giving herself one last look in the mirror. Her breasts looked even fuller, practically spilling out of the tight leather, and her lips gleamed with a sensual shine. She had become a fantasy made flesh, and now it was time to use that to her advantage.

With a deep breath, she turned toward the door, her hips swaying with each step as she headed back toward the bar. The bartender wouldn’t know what hit him.