Chapter VI

 

    It’s not like I’m going anywhere tonight, supposed Cecelia as she finished her Bud Light between Giorgio and Silver. She knew she would be drunk eventually, not that she cared. Conversations would flow better and time just wouldn’t matter. She wrapped her arm around Giorgio’s shoulders and rested her head on him, cracking jokes about the game.

    She leaned back and zoned out, living in the moment. The gang was full on food and Cecelia, despite the infinite appetite afforded to her by her malleability, lacked the desire to move from her place on the couch to grab the last barbecue wing.

    “I bet you looove bein’ drunk,” cooed a smirking Kahri, her slim, ebony fingers bouncing on Cecelia’s shoulder. She and Giorgio smirked at her.

    “And what if I do?” She sat up and grabbed Kahri by the wrist, returning the devilish grin.

    “Then you a confusing girl Ceece, ‘cause last I remember you don’t even touch cigars. Who drinks their ass off but won’t go outside and have a puff or two?”

    “And when was the last time you smoked anything?”

    “Cali.”

    “That was weed, Kahri.”

    “That shit was better than any cigar I ever had.”

    “Because you’ve never smoked a cigar.”

    “You’ve never smoked nothing but incense!”

    “Heyyy hey now why don’t we just...” Giorgio stood between Cecelia and Kahri, his bulky frame effectively separating the two women. “...calm down.”

    “Yeah Kahri, let’s listen to George,” jeered Cecelia. “How ‘bout you grab a double shot of Grey Goose and head right on out the back door for your first cigar.”

    “Would you drop it guys?” demanded Giorgio as Cecelia was lightly kicked in the knee amidst her laughter by a scowling Kahri.

    “Nobody’s making anybody smoke anything,” DK said in his airy, calm voice, hoping to mediate the conflict.

    “Cici. Sit down now, come on.”

    Everybody sat down. Cecelia heard Silver whisper in her ear, but couldn’t discern what they were saying.

    She yawned deeply and nearly tore her lips trying to fight the temptation of unhinging her jaw in a grandiose yawn. She’d gotten tired fast... it would have felt great.

    But Cecelia also knew that she was hosting, and she didn’t want her friends feeling put off by some joke-turned-playground argument. “You got a twenty?” she whispered to Giorgio.

    “What for?”

    Cecelia grinned. “Only your favorite game...”

    “You know Cici? Even if I didn’t have a twenty, I woulda said yes. Hey everyone?” Giorgio asked the room. “Who’s up for some Omaha hold ‘em wit me and Cici?”

 

Δ


    Silver, Cecelia and Kahri were sitting on the couch together, making banter as the clock bore across midnight into Friday. It was as if that squabble never even happened. And just as Cecelia had hoped for, the friends that did leave left smiling.

    As much as she was enjoying her offensive-joke-laced chat with Kahri and Silver, she was growing increasingly antsy for them to get out of dodge as well. The cube she’d planted in the bathroom weighed on her mind like a slab of concrete; she wanted badly to open it and experiment.

    “Cici?”

    The shapeshifter blinked a few times, turning to face Kahri. “Yeah?”

    “You were kinda lost in thought there—”

    “Ha, yeah I know.”

    “Ceece... okay, I’m sorry about earlier.”

    “Pshhh? Sorry? I started that crap, I’m the one that’s gotta apologize.” Cecelia chuckled again. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, only to be playfully hugged by her sassy friend.

    “Get outta here. Ion need an apology! We friends! Lighten up a little.” She gave Cecelia an affectionate poke right above her chest, then got off the couch and moved down the hallway toward the bathroom.

    Silver found themselves hugging Cecelia right after. “Bye... I’ll see you again soon.”

    “Of course. And if you need to talk between now and then, I gotcha, ‘kay? I’m right here.”

    Silver smiled, albeit faintly. “Okay,” they said, making their exit but failing to swing the front door hard enough to latch it closed. But trailing behind her was Cecelia, who forced the door shut with an extended arm that was quick to spool back all the way into her shoulder. She copied this action with her other arm and proceeded to yawn wide, so wide that her upper jaw and head tilted back almost 180 degrees. Before she had time to envision that horror, however, she collapsed into a gooey puddle and slid over to the couch.

    Once she’d collected all of her mass on the plush sofa cushions, she eased back into her native form, au naturale. “Ughhh, looks like this place could use some cleaning...” she groaned in a falsely exasperated voice, only to wryly smile.

    The image was already in her head. She’d turn herself into a maid, with bigger curves and hourglass hips. Cecelia could already feel it starting... her waist curving inward like a violin, crimping any fat up her body as if she were a tube. This fat worked its way into her rounding breasts, which she squeezed gently as cellulite shaped her thighs and butt into immeasurably sexy features.

    Under her hands, Cecelia’s dainty maid outfit threaded its way into existence. Around her thorax wrapped a black corset, which loosened and unfurled into a silky soft dress. White frills decorated the costume over her breasts, while laces covered her core. The dress restrained itself over her butt by a thick white ribbon, tying itself behind her.

    The modifications Cecelia made to her body and clothing only took some thirty seconds to perform. She remained lying on the sofa and it was only after another half-minute did she remove a hand from her bust. Shifting it into a feather duster, Cecelia idly wiped up the coffee table while simultaneously massaging her boob. I can’t get enough of this...

    The eye-popping stewardess continued shapeshifting semi-consciously. “B-bigger...” she moaned softly, reverting her hand and continuing to fondle her bosom, which seemingly never ceased to grow. Her excessive bust felt like two warmed, cushioned pillows just begging to be grabbed and pulled at. Cecelia’s motions satisfied their yowling demands.

    The rest of Cecelia’s body kept the pace. Fat was stacked on at her hips first, but she quickly ballooned in BMI, as she needed to mass to compliment her sizable tits. Her outfit even tailored itself as she added pounds by the second.

    A hand flew to her head to aid in molding it. As if her brain was drawing a card from a deck, it randomly chose a face for Cecelia to emulate. Instantly, her eyes and nose enlarged, her lips became plump and kissy, and her hair extended past her shoulder blades as it faded to onyx black. It was all happening so incredibly fast, leaving her with the visage of a woman who worked at a local grocery store, complete with similar touches of jewelry. She even replicated her skin tone to nearly the exact shade of tan.

    Cecelia moaned in elation, but even her pleasured cries altered as she did so. Her sinfully unhealthy figure spread upwards to create a round face, slight wrinkles, and a husky Hispanic voice. It had been just short of two minutes since she started changing her body, and in that time she went from a fit, curvy Canadian to a BBW Latina knockout. “MMMfff, hughhh, mmm...” she groaned, ogling at her humongous melons.

    Then she grinned so devilishly she’d have put the Grinch to shame.

    Cecelia couldn’t exactly run in this shape, so she maneuvered herself off the couch and hurried as fast as she could to the master bathroom. Fluid was already running down her leg. She picked up her metallic self and heated it up, softening it just slightly, then mashed it forcefully between her tits.

    Her whole body went absolutely wild. The formerly solid cube was now deformed and extremely hot. Cecelia’s torso was dripping with liquid metal. She was spazzing between her legs, flowing like a river, her ecstasy pumping and pressurizing through her like steam. As carefully as possible, she stumbled out of the restroom, planning to finally release on the sofa, but her legs bent back at the entrance to her bedroom. Cecelia flooded the carpet.

    “OOOHHHAAAHaAaAH-H-OHHH FFFAaAhHh!!!”

    The door across from her slid open as a scorched ball of paper escaped her dress.

    “Wh-What the FUCK?!?!”

    “Mmmh, ohhh-hooohhh... d-dios mío...”

    “Wha-huh-WHAT THE...?!”

    “Awwwh yeeeahhh... Kah... Kahri?”

 

 
Alcohol never mixes well with horniness, especially not when a shapeshifter is the one getting drunk... Cecelia should have known better than this.