The Metamorphosis Club was unlike any other establishment in the city, a secretive playground where the wealthy came to fulfill their wildest fantasies with shapeshifting staff. Matt had been working there for three years, his natural ability to transform making him a valuable employee despite his occasional reluctance.

After a particularly grueling week, becoming everything from a muscular bodybuilder to one of a set of identical triplets for a client with very specific tastes, Matt had begged for kitchen duty tonight. Chopping vegetables and plating appetizers while maintaining his natural form felt like a vacation.

"Matt, we need you on the floor," said Veronica, his manager, appearing in the kitchen doorway.

"Come on, Vee. We agreed I could have tonight off from shifting," Matt groaned, continuing to slice mushrooms.

"Pearson's here," she replied flatly.

Matt's knife stilled. "Fuck. No."

Pearson Whitfield was a regular who was obscenely wealthy, and happened completely obsessed with Matt specifically. Not Matt's abilities, but the knowledge that Matt hated every second of being transformed for him.

"Can't Jade do it? She can mimic me well enough to fool most clients."

Veronica shook her head. "He'll know. He always does. And you know he tips double when he can tell you're uncomfortable."

Matt slammed the knife down. "This job is fucked up sometimes."

"That's why it pays six figures," Veronica reminded him. "Just an hour, then you can come back to your mushrooms."

Five minutes later, Matt stepped outside on to the club floor, steeling himself. When he entered, he saw Pearson sitting with a tumbler of whiskey, smiling that predatory smile.

"Matthew. How delightful."

"Mr. Whitfield," Matt replied through gritted teeth. "What's your pleasure tonight?"

Pearson swirled his drink. "Let's see... Gabriella, I think. The brunette with the lovely innocent look."

Matt nodded, already feeling his body beginning to shift. It started with a strange loosening sensation throughout his body, like every molecule was suddenly fluid. His jaw thinned first, cheekbones rising as his face narrowed. He ran his hand through his hair, which lengthened and darkened as his fingers passed through it, transforming from short and shaved to flowing chestnut locks.

"And let's dress her in... that silver bikini. The one with the little ties. And fishnets, of course." Pearson's eyes gleamed.

Matt rolled his eyes and then felt his undershirt dissolving against his skin as he took off his kitchen uniform and his chest expanded, growing soft, full breasts that pushed against the materializing silver bikini top. His waist cinched inward as hips flared outward, creating an hourglass silhouette.

The transformation completed as fishnet stockings appeared on his now smooth, shapely legs. Matt stared down at Gabriella's body, watching as his now-delicate hands with manicured nails adjusted the barely-there silver bikini.

"Perfect," Pearson purred. "Come sit by me, Gabriella."

Swallowing his revulsion, Matt perched beside Pearson on the leather couch.

"I've missed you," Pearson whispered, pulling Matt closer with a firm hand on his newly rounded shoulder

Matt's skin crawled as Pearson buried his face in his hair, inhaling deeply.

"Your scent is always the same, no matter what form you take. Did you know that, Matthew? It's... intoxicating."

Pearson's lips brushed against Matt's cheek, lingering there as his hand moved to Matt's exposed thigh, fingers tracing patterns over the fishnet.

"I know you hate this," Pearson whispered against his ear. "That's what makes it so perfect."