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Best. Mod. Ever.

Sharie could hardly believe how easy this all was now! A little change to her code, a little creativity, and she was making bank! She unlocked the door to her apartment, entered, carefully relocked the door, and tossed her heavy jacket onto the chair that served as a coat rack. A few more months like this, and she could pay off her debts and find a place somewhere it didn't get so damn cold in the winter. She imagined herself on a beach, sunning herself in a tiny bikini, not a care in the world. But for now, Ohio had the gullible marks she needed. The shadier side of the 'Dream here had a specialty: modding everyday criminals to give them an edge. Sharie, as it happened, was one of them, which was why she was in debt. Oh, she hadn't gone for it at first, back when Doc B was the big name in the biz. He did top-notch work, but it was all too obvious; the muscle got more muscles, the sneaks got camouflage or bendy bones, that kind of shit. Sharie didn't do obvious. She ran scams, conning people out of their money with her brains and her charm, and there wasn't anything you could do with your body that helped with that. At least, there wasn't until Doc B went down.

It had happened a few months back. He made too big a name for himself, got too flashy and too confident, especially with running that punishment thing he did for idiots who crossed him. Worse, he'd started making sex slaves, turning girls into big-titted cock-hungry sluts who'd sell to the fatcats and corporate sickos. No surprise, the Admins took him down, he got his office raided by some...flying amazon shapeshifter bimbo warrior or something. It was nuts, she'd heard the stories, but that was above her pay grade. Of course, it was that crazy woman Sharie had to thank for what she could do now. After Doc B went down, somebody had to fill the void, and it was some mousey guy calling himself Michael. Seriously, guy looked like a mouse, like four feet tall, twitchy nose and big round ears and a tail, plus the dirty brown hair he never combed and the glasses and the skinny frame.

Now, Michael didn't have the legit training Doc B had; that guy had actually been a doctor, with access to the codebase and years of schooling and truckloads of cash. Michael was just a code monkey, or code mouse as it were, although he said he'd worked for some bigshot off-grid modder in Arizona or something. In other words, he was an amateur, and that turned a lot of people off. They didn't trust him to do the work, and you didn't put your real image in the hands of anyone you didn't trust. He'd have to earn his way into the biz by proving himself with people who were willing to take the risk, and if he could do things Doc B hadn't been able to, that would be a big help. Sharie could tell he knew how to keep his head down, not cause trouble, not wave a big sign saying "freaky bimbotizing torturer here!" So she went to talk to him, see what he could offer that might be worth the risk.

Oh baby, did he have something that caught her eye. See, Michael had gotten the data from the raid on Doc B's office, not his files or anything, the warrior woman had taken those, but the recordings from the raid. Doc B had set up this big theatre for his punishments, and it had cameras and scanners all over the place, mostly because there were a lot of sickos in the world who liked to watch. That recording hadn't been on Doc B's workstation, it had just been recorded, and Michael found it somehow. He said he'd analyzed the video and the scans, watched every nanosecond and studied every routine, and that lady who could change her body somehow, he'd figured out a little of how she did it.

What Michael had to offer was the ultimate in disguise. He could make you a changeling, a doppelganger, a shapeshifter, whatever you wanted to call it, like that badass evil mutant lady from the comic books. Of course, he'd never actually done it to anyone, so it was experimental, which meant it was really risky. Which meant cheaper. Bargain basement price aside, Sharie could see how this would be a mod that could actually help in her line of work. So she went for it, and so far it was doing its job. Sharie could be anyone, look like anyone, sound like anyone, for a little while at least. The change was only temporary, and she had to rest a bit after it wore off, but still, kick ass. She could have used it to be an actress, or a model, or a hologirl, but where was the fun in that? No, the fun, and the money, were in looking like someone that a mark trusted, or wanted, and using that to soak them for whatever she could. She'd been good at it before, but now? Besides, if anyone did catch on, they couldn't call security on a short, slim girl with dark skin, curly black hair, cheap clothes, and no real curves to speak of. They never saw her, never heard her voice. She was untouchable.

Still, it was work, and Sharie was beat. She took off her bra and tossed it in the laundry basket; nothing said "I'm home for the night" like getting that thing off. She warmed up some leftovers and sat down with her datapad to chill for a while. There'd be plenty of time for scheming and criming later. Sharie zoned out for a while, checking in with her friends on the networks, catching up on the news, laughing at the latest crazy videos going around. It was getting late, but she wasn't quite ready for bed, so she decided to practice a bit with the mod. Maybe she could bring down the recovery time if she kept at it. Not like five minutes was all that long or anything, but it would be pretty cool if she could just switch from one person to another.

Sharie tried out several different faces and bodies for an hour or so, some famous, some people she knew, some she just made up. Still needed the rest in between, and she hadn't quite mastered changing into a man yet, but she was getting there. Hmm, could she maybe turn into herself, but different? She imagined her own body, and then just to be funny, gave herself a big, fat butt. Booya, it worked! One moment she was herself in the mirror, the next she was herself but from some ass lover's wet dreams. Well, that wasn't exactly practical, she couldn't ditch attention or fool anyone by being a slightly different version of herself, but it could be fun. She let the change fade, and headed to bed.

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Sharie got home later than usual, because she actually got to go out to dinner. It wasn't fancy, but it wasn't takeout. She could afford to eat a little better now, even with trying to save to pay her bills. In the past few days of practice she was already getting results; the more times she changed, the quicker she recovered. She'd learned that turning convincingly into a man was a matter of visualization, imagining in detail having a body with rather different features than the ones she saw in the mirror everyday. So she'd been practicing that, too, and doing...research. Best way to learn to visualize a man's body was to look at 'em, right? Well, maybe she'd do better if she got some interactive holos and played as a guy, but those usually cost. She could watch plenty of porn for free. Sharie had never really been into that kind of thing before; men and sex and whatever were distractions, things she could use on a mark, not things she wanted for herself. But lately, hmmmm, there was some hot porn out there. Lots of freaky shit, too, but still.

It had been a long day. Lucrative, but long, and she felt the drain of being away from home so long. Her apartment wasn't much, but it was safe. Sharie had always been good at putting on a face she could show the world, and she was even better now that she could do it literally, but it was nice to come back to somewhere she could just be herself. All these things she had to put on just so she could be outside felt tight, restrictive, making it hard to breathe. She got out of that damn bra, and then stripped out of her sweats for good measure. Nobody could stop her from going around her own apartment in just her panties, so she was damn well gonna do it. Well, not for long. It was still winter. She took a hot shower, letting the water wash everything away. It felt even better than usual, like she was feeling it more now that she was wearing her own skin again. She toweled off, got into some comfy flannel PJs, and settled down with her datapad. She could get in a little more research before bed.

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Finally, she'd gotten the dick problem resolved. It took more effort, and there'd been a lot of changes and a lot of porn over the past few days, but Sharie could convincingly change herself into a man now. That opened up worlds of options. Heck, it gave her the option to walk home alone at night and not feel scared, not even going into the jobs she could pull. It still felt weird; dudes were shaped all wrong to her mind. It was still going to take her a little more time to figure out how to, like, walk and stand and sit with her proportions being so unfamiliar. Also, seriously, how did guys move with those...things between their legs all day? Must just be practice, because a package was worse than boobs when it came to being awkward and sensitive and in the way of the simplest movements. She could handle turning into a woman with a much more generous chest than her own little boobs, didn't take long to adapt, but unless she had damn good reason, she was gonna make the men she turned into very unimpressive in the meat department.

Thinking about her boobs brought her attention to how tight her bra felt this evening. She took off her sweatshirt first this time and checked herself out. Was she a little bigger? She cupped her breasts experimentally. Yeah, there was definitely more there, not a lot, the bra still fit, she just filled it and her hands more than she did a week ago. She was probably gaining a little weight, since she could, you know, afford to eat relatively good food three meals a day now. Made sense she wouldn't be so scrawny if she wasn't half starved. Hey, at least it was going to the right place.

She posed in front of the mirror a bit; yeah, maybe it wouldn't be bad to have a little more up top. Actually...she changed, checking herself out with a set of DDs. Eh, maybe too much. She'd turn more heads, sure, but that was the last thing she wanted in her line of work. Still, her body was gonna do what it was gonna do. Maybe she'd have to start hitting the gym. Maybe someday soon, but not tonight. She became herself again, and got her bra off. It felt better than ever to be free of it, and her nipples hardened from the chill air and from just feeling good. She didn't have an excuse to look at porn now, not really, but hey, she was in the habit and her nips thought it was a good idea. The rest of her wouldn't take too much convincing.

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Sharie got home from a totally too expensive shopping trip, tossed her jacket on the chair, shook the snow from her hair, and set her bags over by her laundry. She'd have to wash the new bras, including the one she'd worn home, which meant an extra laundry day. She mentally recalculated her budget as she unhooked her bra, which was stiff with newness and unfamiliar but at least fit properly. She'd had to try on a C cup to find something that was comfy, and that was one letter too close to the beginning of big boobs for her comfort. She stepped in front of the mirror in the bathroom and pulled her sweatshirt tight behind her, letting her newly adequate curves show off a bit. They did look good on her, she had to admit, but she could feel them moving and bouncing more, especially without a too-small bra squishing them into compliance, and it was distracting. Sharie couldn't afford to be distracted, not now.

Despite how careful she was, despite how damn good she was, she'd been noticed. Not by a mark, thankfully, or by security, even more thankfully. No, she'd caught the notice of Alex Hardeen, a not-inconsiderable player in the local 'Dream underworld. It was probably inevitable that she'd run across organized crime sooner or later, and she was lucky that she hadn't stepped on anyone's toes or tried to scam someone with the wrong connections. No, she'd been noticed in a good way, and Hardeen's outfit had reached out with a job offer. She could graduate from convincing grandmas that their granddaughter needed a few bucks to make rent that month, and dip her toes into trading the most valuable commodity there was: information. The same skills and the same mods that made her a great scammer would also serve her well as a spy.

She'd never thought of it that way; all the holofilms made spy work look like something epic and dangerous, jetting around the world on behalf of some government to stop a sinister plot. Outside of fiction, though, it was really about getting close to the right people at the right time and listening to them. Sharie could be anyone, so she could go almost anywhere without attracting attention. She knew how to check on someone's background, learn their schedule, find out what they wanted and what would get them to talk. She'd just been offered the chance to let someone else pick the mark, and what the mark was supposed to talk about, and then get paid for it.

Honestly, that sounded way more consistently profitable; if the information she gathered didn't pan out, that wasn't her fault, she'd still have gathered it and gotten paid for it, which was better than the nothing she got when a scam didn't fly. She'd almost have a regular income. She could buy a coat rack, some real plates, more clothes that fit. She could budget for entertainment, get some of those holos she'd wished she could have used to learn how to shift better. More things than her cup size were looking up. So far as she knew, she was the only one who could do what she did; Michael hadn't given anyone else this mod, not yet anyway. Not to mention that she knew it took time to get good with it, not like superstrength or whatever, and she'd put in the time. She could be anybody, man, woman, whatever, and her recovery time between shifts was under a minute. That was it, she was gonna do it. Decision made, she figured she'd treat herself tonight. Well, for free, those bras were not cheap, but she'd find some of the really good porn and just let herself loose, have some fun. Her nipples perked up at the thought. At least the bigger boobs were going to be good for something.

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Okay, what the fuck? Sharie had just bought that bra four days ago! Then this morning, she put it on, took like five or six increasingly jiggly steps, and it just snapped! She looked at her profile in the mirror; no hiding or denying it now, she had some real fucking tits. She was in her favorite sweatshirt, the one that had always been big and comfy and kept the catcalls to a minimum. It was still comfy, but that was about it; her chest was stretching it now, showing off without her pulling the fabric tight. It would've been better if her boobs weren't so damn perky, but she figured gravity hadn't had a chance to do anything with them yet, considering the bulk of their size was less than a couple weeks old. This wasn't just gaining weight from getting fed; like, that was happening, she was looking way healthier, had a little curve to her butt and everything, but everywhere else it just looked like she wasn't as skinny as she had been. Her tits were something else, though; they were legit growing. They were as big now as she'd done a trial run of on that day she first noticed her bra getting tight and tried out what she figured was a bit too much chest. Fuck.

Still, she did look pretty hot, and they were hella sensitive. Maybe she was just a late bloomer, and this was her routines simulating a hormone thing. It wasn't like she could do anything about it, except turn into someone else of course. Which was, you know, her job, so there wasn't really much to stress about when it came to going out or anything. It was just new and different. Didn't mean it wasn't her, it was all her. Every soft, pliant, sexy inch of her boobs was all her. She'd have to return the other bras; wouldn't really be a problem, she'd only had them a few days and not worn most of them anyway. Yeah, this wasn't so bad. Weird, and unexpected, and a little annoying to have her clothes explode, but not too bad.

Anyway, it was time to get to work. She figured her normal form would have to just go braless today, which was a bit embarrassing, but she could hold a change for an hour or so now, so it's not like she'd be herself for long. She'd taken Hardeen up on his offer, and was in the middle of tracking down a shipment of something or other. Easy work, she just had to be random people entering and leaving the pool hall where the marks liked to hang out, keep a little voice recorder running, and fire off the recordings to her handler after they finally left. Sharie lifted her sweatshirt to see how her breasts looked, and they looked really nice. Better than some of the camgirls out there, if she ever wanted to supplement her income. Yeah, right. Fuck, stupid nipples getting hard at every mildly sexy thought. Hopefully those mooks at the pool hall wouldn't be there too late; that way, she could bring home dinner a little early and turn in. She wouldn't get the relief of taking off a bra, but she was actually kind of looking forward to giving these babies a little attention.

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Alright, this was starting to get out of hand. Sharie had bought a new bra, just one, just in case, and she'd bought it deliberately big. It was an F cup, and when she got it last week, even the boobs she'd had at the time didn't come close to filling it out. Now, five days later, it was tight! She was starting to spill out over the top of the cups! This was just not right, there was no fucking way this was normal. "Late bloomer," fuck that, if this was some kind of hormonal thing, she needed to get checked out right away. She'd heard of some girls having just insane growth when they were pregnant, but she hadn't had dick in almost a year. So it had to be her genes telling her real image that it should be ballooning her tits, right? Which meant she needed to go to a doctor...which she realized she couldn't do. Shit. Like, plenty of people had had their bodies modded by someone unlicensed, and they didn't all get hauled away by security. Docs probably reported it, but it wasn't hurting anyone, right?

Sharie didn't just have some one-shot changes to how she looked, though, she had powers. Not to mention, she was literally working for an organized crime outfit. Fucking shit, she might never be able to go to a doctor ever again, which would normally not be a big deal, it's not like people in the 'Dream really got sick, but these tits were not fucking normal! She closed her eyes and lay back on her bed, feeling the still-unfamiliar wobbling on her chest pull slightly down towards her sides. She squirmed a bit, unhooked the bra she couldn't believe she was fucking outgrowing, and tossed it to the floor in frustration. What was she going to do?

At least she could still work; nothing in her job description said she had to be flat, and she could just shift anyway. She could save some money by just going braless until these honkers settled down. There was always the camgirl option, too. Would that be so bad, really? Showing off her huge boobs, hundreds, maybe thousands of people getting off to them, the size and the jiggling and the hard nipples and...what was she thinking? Oh. She hadn't been thinking, that was the problem, and one of her hands just started idly playing with her tits without her even realizing it. Was that normal? Did girls with huge hooters just lose themselves in how good they felt all the time? Sharie didn't know, didn't know who to ask, not like porn would give an honest answer.