This one is pretty damn dark.

Joyce had just gotten her CPA and was overjoyed at that. Her family and friends were congratulatory about it and she herself was very happy with herself.

Still, she might not use any of that, at least not right away. She had gotten into streaming, especially modeling clothes and trying on outfits and she found that she had the body and the energy to really make some serious money off of it. She was making at least five times now what she would be making if she got an accounting job right now, so why not milk this for al it was worth now? Who knows, maybe even use this invest in a small accounting business.

One thing she did, though, was use a filter to hide her face. She knew people didn't really care about that anyway, they were looking a bit lower than that, especially at her ample tits and long legs. While she wasn't exactly thrilled with this type of work at least she was protected somewhat and she carefully managed her social media to keep her private life and her streaming stuff separate.

Well, one day right after getting her CPA, she got a gift. It was to an exclusive clinic for "beauty enhancements". She did check them out, they seemed completely on the level. Curious, she called and made an appointment. If nothing else, she would check them out and see what they offered. She didn't really feel like she need anything enhanced, and if her looks faded... she'd do what she always intended to do for a job anyway, so what was the loss? Still, free is free.

She walked into the clinic figuring she should dress well and she did. She was pale and redheaded, so a dark green dress, gray patterned tights and gray heels should look rather nice, right?

She walked up the reception desk, seeing a plain woman behind the counter.

"Uh, yes, Joyce Falco." She said with a polite smile.

The plain woman looked at her and also smiled.

"Oh, yes, our first appointment of the day. It will be just a few seconds, and a doctor will be with you."

"Doctor?"

"Yes, a doctor. We offer treatments very few places offer, advanced enough that we have actual doctors here to guide you through your personal beauty treatment."

"Uh, that seems excessive, no?" Joyce asked. "What sort of treatment?"

"Oh, excuse me?" The plain woman asked.

"What is the treatment? Or maybe I should ask what different treatments. Not plastic surgery, because I don't have a need for that."

"With respect, the doctor will go through all of that when you and him talk. Each is tailored to their specific needs. You must understand, I'm just the receptionist."

"While I do understand that, you would likely still know the basics, at least for scheduling purposes, I would imagine. I don't..."

"Miss Falco?" A tall, smiling doctor of about fifty walked into the room and held his hand out. "I'm Dr. Charles. I see you wish to ask about what we do here. If you follow me, I can show you the full array of services we offer. Of course, our clients can refuse a service or treatment at any time, but it is much easier to do this with me than with our humble receptionist, I would think."

"I, I guess so. Lead the way, I'm curious. I don't really need a thing, but I can at least see. Who knows, maybe I can refer you someone in the future."

"A client referring a client is a huge part of our business model. Let's go down this hallway, in here..."

The doctor led her into a room and then shut the door.

Iris breathed as soon as that door shut. Wow, that was close. She had almost left and that would not have been good. She then went back to work, but a couple of minutes later, something else caught her attention, a sound coming from the room Joyce was led into. It was Joyce's voice, trying to yell.

"No, let me out of..." Then silence.

Wow. That happens so rarely. She was one of the more difficult ones, but money is money. You can't have all terrible people as "clients". She put that thought out of her head as she went about her work. Besides, Joyce wasn't a client.

She was the product.

Several more people came in and while she was able to close at two today, they had stacked it earlier with more people in the morning and very early afternoon. After an event a month ago they had finally stopped having people leave past five or six. No one would miss being here until eight or nine.

At two-fifteen, she looked up and saw a smiling face . It was that of a man, pudgy in the face, a bit ugly with long, poorly cut hair. He smiled as he got to the reception desk, putting a pair of soft, pale, feminine hands on the desk. As he leaned, she caught a glimpse of some cleavage just above that dark green dress.

"So, Mr. Royce, I trust this is to your satisfaction?"

"I didn't think you would be able to do it. I did see myself in the mirror just before I left the room. I can't wait to go home and take a better look."

Iris shuddered a little inwardly. She knew what that meant.

"Yes, I see you have the clothing package, and no plastic surgery, no relocation, is that right?"

"Correct." He said, stretching his heavy neck a little. "These stitches, do they heal fast?"

"Yes, within a few days. Don't worry, there is little risk currently, just watch for at least four hours."

He smiled and she looked up at him. That heavy, almost ugly male head, and below his thick neck such an attractive woman's body. Unlike many of the clients she saw, she wondered if he even appreciated what he now had.

"You mean for, what, like sex?"

"Any activity requiring moderate movement. The doctor, I imagine, went over all this prior to you being discharged."

"Yes, he did. So, six-fifteen at the earliest then!" He said with a laugh. "I just wish we could have told her what to wear! Maybe something sexier than a green dress and boring gray heels!"

"That we have no control over, sir, as you have already been informed of. Is there anything else?"

"No, that's it. So, out this way?" He pointed to the main door.

"No, the side exit. Since an incident, we are no longer allowing anyone out this way. Understand?"

"I got it, I got it." He said as he walked toward the side exit, laughing.

Iris finished her work annoyed by all of that. He was just as bad as some of the one who come in the front entrance and never leave walking. Thinking along those lines, she didn't like it when someone like Joyce came in, but what could she do about that? Unless she quit, this was her life, and overall she had no desire to quit.

A couple of hours later, as she was finishing up her work and between other clients she decided to check Joyce's streaming. She knew her handle and was curious. She was saw it was on live now and she clicked on it. Using a filter, actually the same filter that kept Joyce's face off of the internet her client from today was using that hide that his head was now on her body. However, she doubted Joyce had handled things in such a poor, over-the-top, almost vulgar display. He was barely clothed in her body, hands clumsy in their fondling of his new body, and she had no doubts that this would be demonetized within an hour. She then saw him pull down her panties and grab a dildo, laughing as he put it on the seat of a chair, straddle the chair, and start to lower his new feminine body down. She turned it off, shocked despite herself, and decided, from then on, she never would see what a client was doing with their services. Ever.