Down the derelict path leading to an abandoned factory strewn with junked cars and rusted debris, one man dressed entirely in black with only the ghostly white of his hair distinguishing him from the darkness of night. Humming a tuneless song under his breath, his movements lax and his attention elsewhere. To the unwary, the man was probably an eccentric drunk looking for a place to crash.

But no one would be wandering around blindfolded in the middle of the night, especially when navigating a cracked road that could trip anyone if they weren't careful. Yet there he was, moving along silently without stumbling once. He was no drunkard, and he certainly wasn't an ordinary man.

Satoru Gojo, a well known and equally feared individual in the lesser known world of sorcerers, the man was on a mission tonight; to find the source of the many disappearances around the area. Both ordinary humans and sorcerers alike had already fallen prey, and not the type to leave a potential threat uncontested, Satoru had taken the matter into his own hands, eager to face whatever was behind it all.

Stepping into the mossy, overgrown expanse of the factory however, the sorcerer supreme would fail to take note of the presence watching him from above. So cocksure and confident he was of his abilities; that nothing could harm him.

Until a bright wave of energy and light washes over a stunned Satoru, blinding him even through the thick cloth wrapped around his eyes, feeling a sharp tingle preceding an intense stretching sensation that wracks his body, as if a thousand hands were pulling, crushing, kneading. A sculptor reshaping him as it saw fit.

And there was nothing the struggling sorcerer could do to stop it.

As the light fades, the faint sounds of a man's angered yelling dissipates into the cool evening air. All was quiet once more…

"Nice of you to come to me…most people rarely if ever enter my abode. Afeared of what might haunt its darkened halls, and rightly so."

By the time his feet felt solid ground once more with a slightly odd clacking noise as his legs hit the floor, Satoru's head was pounding, feeling as if he'd drunk enough alcohol to put an entire herd of Elephants to sleep, and he absolutely despised the drink.

But being drugged wasn't what the hard-boiled sorcerer was concerned about..

Irritating migraine and soreness aside, his body felt…lighter, yet weaker overall, feeling the grace of the wind against his exposed thighs rubbing together, highly sensitive skin sparking the unsettling fires of arousal, a subtle weight pulling at his chest, the tickle of soft hair against his cheeks and most concerning of all; an empty void between his legs with something warm and tender hugging hips that were far too wide for a man his age.

Add to that the glare of the sun against his face with lips that felt oddly swollen, and Satoru was beginning to feel on guard, struggling to get ahold of himself and regain his sight as fast as possible, squinting only to realize his blindfold was gone, replaced by an expensive sunglass nestled neatly on the crook of his dainty nose.

"My my, aren't you a sleepy little thing? No one in their right mind wears their sunglasses indoors now do they? Take them off for me…"

Despite the language barrier, Satoru soon finds himself freezing in place before placing a hand on his shapely hips involuntarily, just barely managing to keep control of his remaining free hand with a look of struggle on a face he hadn't yet realized was no longer his own.

"Don't make me repeat myself now dear~"

Letting loose an effeminate sigh, Satoru's body snaps back into motion, raising a hand up to remove his glasses before standing still, doing nothing as a blurry figure steps forward with a cloth in hand, wiping up a mesmerizing visage with brilliant blue eyes fluttering open, framed by the foxy slits of an enchantress.

"There we go, that wasn't so bad now was it? Here, bask in the sight of your own beauty, my lovely doll~"

The figures' words land on deaf ears, with Satoru staring flabbergasted at his, or judging by the reflection of the voluptuous foreign woman striking a confident yet sexy pose staring back at him with sleek eyes and filled cushiony lips wide open in surprise, her new self. It definitely did explain why she suddenly felt so…out of place.

Whether this was some illusory trick or a curse, the infuriated Satoru had no patience left for this entity. Mustering what she could to break free of the unseen binds holding her still, to crush the one who had dared tamper with her body, turning it into this…lewd caricature. She wasn't even Japanese anymore, her very identity scrambled.

Except she couldn't, no matter how hard she raged against them, her body remained stuck in that serene pose, hands moving instead to drop her sunglasses to the floor before returning to their place against her plump, fattened thighs. Her face emotionless despite the fire of anger burning within.

Like a prisoner in her own body, stuck looking at her accursed new self as the strange being completes a circle around her, unseen eyes tracing the contours of a shapely ass against loose fabric, a curvaceous spine that emphasizes her bust and right toned belly, long slender limbs coated in pale, porcelain smooth skin bereft of ugly muscles and body hair.

And the face of a serene goddess with glimmering blue eyes staring intensely at her mirror image, feeling the sorcerer-turned-damsel twitch instinctively as it makes its next command known.

"Do us a favor and put on a show will you love? How about a look at what lies beneath?"

Grunting in stifled frustration, Satoru can only comply as her hand slides up her leg, gripping the short hem of her miniskirt and hiking it up slightly before freezing in hesitation. Not wanting to see anything else at the sight of a woman's barely clothed snatch already in the mirror. But for her sole attendee in her audience however, they clearly weren't pleased.

"I said a show, not a tease…"

Something about the way the entity spoke when reinforcing it's commands was beginning to make Satoru giddy, not in a bad way but a really good one, evident in the way her neck twists in ecstasy in tune with her hands rising well above her belly, showing off her salacious panties for all to see, clasped tightly around the moist folds of a vagina where a man's pecker once was. Sighing in satisfaction with a slim smile splitting her face, going unnoticed by the crumbling vestiges of Satoru still trying to regain what little control she had left, only able to twitch the brow of her new body at best.

It was clear at this point that the all-powerful Satoru was completely helpless, at the mercy of a nameless entity with total control over her every move.

And as its vague silhouette moves in to grab at her juicy body with an exploratory hand tracing the outline of her thick labia against the soft blue lace riding up between her firm butt while another gives her right breast a good squeeze through her clothes, Satoru was already beginning to lose track of herself, recoiling in the face of arousal and sensations never before felt, letting loose effeminate groans and gasps she would've never thought to make if she were still the same Satoru that had quite literally walked into her captors hands.

But right before the dam between her legs could burst with just one more stroke against her sopping wet lower lips, the being departs, leaving Satoru frozen and lustful, trembling in the pose it had left her in with a hand still holding the hem of her skirt high and proud, staring shamelessly at her heated reflection.

"Not so fast I'm afraid, we've still got a ways to go before I grant you release…now that I've copped a feel of your ample bosom…mind doing the honors again?"

It seemed the entity no longer had any patience left, reinforcing his command with authority that sends Satoru's mind roiling, eager to fulfill her duty as her back straightens up, leaving her skirt hiked up while pulling the separate flaps of her altered jacket apart, wincing in disgust thanks in part to what little remained of the sorcerer, still unwilling to give in to the overwhelming pleasure and sway held over her mind. Earning her a whistle and a slow clap as a reward.

"You're not like the others who've come through here aren't you? All of them weren't even aware by the time they landed here, in my realm where everything is as I wish it to be…tell me your name dear, who you are…"

Giving in, Satoru opens her mouth, letting loose the sonorous voice of a mature woman in her prime, speaking perfect English without an accent as if it had always been her mother tongue.

"I…I am Satoru Gojo…male, 28 years old, s-special grade Jujutsu sorc-"

"Alright just…stop right there…take a look in the mirror dear, tell me what you see."

Following her master's command, Satoru's vapid eyes move as requested, focusing on the pristine bedroom around her, the glaring light filtering in from the window beside her and finally her own reflection.

In it, she saw an American woman in her late twenties, possibly mid thirties, dressed in expensive designer clothes that were left disheveled and undone, exposing her teats and soaking wet loins, unabashed by the sight of it as her eyes continue down her shapely physique, feeling a subtle pulse at the back of her mind as she does so. Like this wasn't supposed to be her at all, slowly but surely loosening her clothes as her dexterous hands begin to move on their own, loosening her skirt while pulling the dress down her shoulders, exposing her smooth pale limbs with only her lingerie and the knee high heels on her legs left to cover her up.

Where there was muscle, only supple flesh and tender fat remained. Where there had been a sharp crop of hair, there was a long silky mane of platinum silver. And where there was supposed to be the cunning face of a Japanese man, the depiction of a foreign goddess had taken its place. The special grade sorcerer Satoru Gojo was nowhere in sight. Unable to recall her lost abilities as that fact ingrains itself into her mind, formulating the answer she now knew to be true;

This wasn’t the body of a special grade Ju…whatever magic warrior label  it was that had already slipped her mind. Because why would it be? For all she knew, her body had been the product of rigorous use in the bed or wherever else she could sneak some action in with a fitting stud that wasn’t her husband. Those muscles in her tight core and firm thighs weren’t gained from tiring physical training, and the only reason she would ever have to go to the gym was to show her body off while fishing for a man, sending a tingle down her warm innards at the fresh thought of a burly gym goer taking her by the waist into the privacy of the locker rooms.

And who needed powerful abilities when they could have all the money in the world and a beautiful body to earn more with? She’d happily keep her flexibility and encyclopedic knowledge of all manner of sex positions to perform over making stuff explode. Men were best enjoyed alive and whole after all, not in pieces or rendered non-existent.

"I see a woman…a beautiful woman…confident about her looks, a salacious vixen whose presence bends men to her will while inspiring jealousy in all other lowly wenches…"

Spoken in a monotonous rhythm devoid of emotion, the woman's foxy eyes flutter in orgasmic bliss upon receiving an affirmative grunt from the being she no longer bore any hatred towards, shuffling in place with her thighs grinding against each other. Thoughts of running or fighting no longer drift by as control returns to her body.

"And does that sound like a Satoru Gojo at all? A so-called special grade something something?"

With the hem of her dress coming undone alongside the clasp of her skirt like a last sigh of defeat, the tiny vestiges of Satoru Gojo are washed away, melding with the torrential vortex that was her new identity, memories of studying, training under the influential Gojo family as their proudest achievement warping into the life of a rather ordinary young girl in America, her first period, the flutter in her heart when she was still an innocent young lady in highschool…

Before developing her darker, more raunchier side after her then boyfriend and current husband had pushed her up against the lockers in the gym changing rooms, giving her nubile young body her first taste of sex; how good it felt to have a dick stuffed inside her and all the other benefits that came with it.

And in her heated reverie, the silver haired woman begins to give the entity a show, swaying her body from side to side, tracing the curves of her buxom bod with daydreaming hands and letting loose erotic moans in time to each blissful memory of coitus filling her mind. Loving her metamorphosis from naive little girl to dominating bitch, reminding her of the muscular jock she had come to marry, the edges of her lips curling into a wicked grin as she remembered how she had worn away at him, reduced him into a mindless paper pusher who would do anything for her. No longer able to place herself as some action hero fighting dangerous spirits in the shadows of society. A ridiculous notion.

And in place of that forgotten career, memories of running a short modelling gig give way to debuting in adult films that earned her thousands enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life, but that was secondary compared to her social media where people all over the world paid in the thousands to see her strip for them, dance for them, fuck for them.

With a final clap from the entity who seemed enthused by the fallen sorcerer giving in to its spell, Sasha Garcia's eyes flutter half open, shooting a wanton look of lust toward the entity as it's body begins to take solid shape, forming the large muscular body of a man in the nude with a massive pecker pointed right at her throbbing womb; her husband himself, as the manor around them warps into a standard white bedroom with cameras, electronics and wires snaking just out of sight. Collapsing to her knees as other people materialize to fill in this new reality; cameramen, assistants, etcetera etcetera. Everyone needed to man a filming crew were present along with the stars of the show; Sasha herself and the stud who would soon screw the wanton minx senseless.

Dropping to her knees, the veteran porn actress wastes no time in striking a multitude of poses for the cameras, each movement precise and with purpose and not even a second wasted, eager to get the foreplay over with. Each lens flare in her charming blue eyes easing that sense of disturbance in her heart further and further, assuring her that this was right.

By the time the crew take their leave leaving her and her partner behind, Sasha was more than ready to do the deed, curling over on the cold wooden floor with her long curvy legs widening to reveal her aching snatch, wasting no time in coating the floor with liberal amounts of her juices, no longer as tight and fresh as they had been only minutes ago but just as heavenly to mess around with. Licking her lips with a wet tongue as large hands grasp ahold of her thin waist, shredding off her lingerie without a second thought to get at her soft, tender body.

Back in Japan however, word of Satoru Gojo’s disappearance would begin to make the rounds, with many among the reserved sorcerer’s claiming he’d finally gotten his just desserts for being a rampant upstart for so long, throwing around his strength just because he could. Unaware of the unfortunate soul having been sent halfway across the planet with his entire being reformatted till nothing remained in the thirsty slut currently wrapped in coital bliss with her wedded mate, a wicked pink glow dancing in his eyes as he savors his latest conquest…

THE END