Dave Transforms

I wanted to do the ritual because Dave was always talking about what we wanted to do to girl's bodies, but never actually doing it. He was too shy, too introverted, too much of a loser. Sure, he was two years younger than me, and might come into his own someday, but I was sure that the girl version of Dave would be as sexually precocious as his big sister Sarah had been.

I'm twenty and in college. The guys on campus are immature, so I often found myself getting railed on the beds and couches of much older men in town. Their adorable suburban college town was home to plenty of old bankers and executives who would pay for cars to and from campus, plus a DoorDash delivery from some expensive restaurant.

Dave was in his senior year of high school, and lived with our father. I stayed with them during breaks, and I'm on spring break of sophomore year. Freshman year, I spent spring break on Daytona Beach letting men do shots between my titties or getting fucked on the beach at 4 AM. I even sucked off a cop to get out of a 'lewd acts' ticket.

I saw it among the many horny TikToks I watched. Between girlies dancing and squeezing their tits, guys flashing their bulges, cute dances, vivacious opinions, there was a 'did you know?' video. It asked Sarah if she knew about a magic ritual to turn your brother into a slut. No one had much attention-span anymore, so the video explained it in 16 cuts over ten seconds, with a voiceover. The final images it flashed were of a beautiful, sexy bimbo slut, with big jiggly titties and hips that begged to be separated. The bimbo looked just like the brother from the beginning, only, well bimbofied.

I watched it again and again until I had memorized every step. Fried into my memory, I put my phone down, and recited the steps. I pictured Dave turning into a wet, needy bimbo version of himself. Unconsciously, my hands crept to my wetness. My finger brushed her clit before I realized what I was doing. In an instant, I was plunging my fingers easily in and out of the impossible wetness.

That was last night. Tonight, I still had the panties I came into last night. They had dried fluids on them in a crusty, pale splotch. This was the only item of the ritual. It would realign his gender appropriately, using my genetic makeup. Thinking about it, I kept grinning at Dave, ignoring our daddy, thinking about how this was the last time he would have a dick, or feel it stir when he watched me jiggle my tits playfully. So I smiled, and flirted, thinking of that flesh between his legs which would transform into an even-more-eager pussy, ready for my fingers, my tongue, and the cocks of whichever boys managed to show up first.

Dad had been letting us drink since we were sixteen, so by the time we'd finished our steaks, I had had three cosmos when Dave cracked another beer.

"How many is that?" I asked, glancing at the 16 oz can.

"Third one of these," he bragged. "8%" He indicated the ABV on the can.

"Eww, you're gonna have whiskey dick!" I've always been a flirt, but Dave was my favorite. He got as red as ever.

"You--I--what does that have to do with whiskey dick?" He stammered.

"Innocent baby brother," I stepped close, my big boobies brushing his chest, and I looked up at him for the last time. "Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite!" I attacked him, fingers viciously tickling, too hard to be resisted. He giggled like a schoolgirl and fled. I mimed chasing, but made my way upstairs to my own bedroom, to wait.

Dave never did what I told him, so I heard him turn on his PlayStation. It was only after twenty or so minutes of laying quietly in bed and teasing myself that I heard him come upstairs. I waited a further half hour, sliding my slick fingers all over my wetness, urging myself to get even hornier, but never letting myself cum. Finally, I went to his room, bringing the dirty panties from the night before. The slob was already snoring heavily. His breathing sounded drunk. I wasn't particularly quiet as I slid his comforter off, revealing his soft, average dick. I slid the panties over his feet, up hairy, strong legs, and wiggled them over hips that would never be this narrow again. Finally, with a snap, I popped the front over his package.

Tapping my finger three times on his dick through my dirty underwear, I chanted: Little boy, strong man, let your meat become soft folds, your chest grow big. Become a toy like you would use if you weren't one already!" With my final utterance, energy pulsed like a shock from my finger and traveled over him in a glow. He began writhing and moaning, not awake but as if he was having a dream of being raped and pleasured. I watched the outline of his dick shrivel in my panties. From between his legs, I watched the hair recede, and the skin become softer, while their outline became more full and shapely. Under the softened skin of his chest, breasts began to form. They were beautiful at every stage: puffy nubs, barely distinguishable from before; hopeful curves, providing only the hint of a bosom; small teen breasts, incredibly sexy but barely representative of what will come next; substantial tits, the kind that the sluts always seem to have. They finally stopped swelling at an absurd size. They were enormous balloons to be played with. Finally escaping the rapture of his--her--tits, I noticed that the rest of the transformation was complete. Her hands and feet had become smaller and delicate. Her hair had grown out to lustrous beauty and pullable length. Her hips had widened into that feminine invitation.

"Dani," I said, crawling up my new sister, naked except for my panties she had on. My hands and arms slithered up her softnesses, passing her defined hip bones, her newly narrowed midriff, her needy tits before arriving at her soft face. I cupped her chin. Her eyes were open, shining, halfway between crying and fear. "That's your name now, baby, you're Dani." She nodded obediently. "You remember my name, Sarah, but you'll call me 'Mommy.' I made you like this so you'll call me 'Mommy.'" I held her face tighter and stared into her eyes.

"Yes, mommy," Dani said dutifully. My legs were along her sides, as I straddled her chest, just below her tits. They were warm on the inside of my thighs. I pressed the weight of my hips down on her ribcage and she gasped. I slipped a thumb in her mouth, and she eagerly started sucking, newborn in this body. My other hand crept to her new and unexpectedly smooth pussy. It was hairless, and softer than anything I've ever felt. My finger popped in, as it was delightfully, eagerly wet. I started pumping, and Dani jolted under me, before letting out a loud moan around my thumb.

"Shhh, you'll wake daddy!" I hissed. In popped another finger, as I curled my fingers into the roof of her pussy while crushing my palm into her clit. I began to shake her, like a ragdoll grabbed by the pussy. Pleasure mixed with confusion on Dani's face as she whimpered, held her breath, and then came, convulsing. She began to moan, to cry out--and I buried her face under one of Dave's pillows. As the orgasm subsided, I released her, and brought myself down next to the quivering, panting girl. My fingers roamed her beautiful new body. She quivered each time I touched somewhere sensitive.

"Good girl," I cooed. "Good girl." She whimpered happily and nuzzled into my arms.