Shapeshifting Lust

"Hey, hun."

She winked softly, patting Roxy's shoulder, a spring in her step as she went off in search of new clothes, more clothes, something that better suited a seductress like her. The flow of her body caught the eye and, even as someone snapped her name, growling that it was time for her to get to work, Roxy stood and stared after Chantel.

"But you were Maria..."

It didn't make sense -- yet confusion was just where Chris worked best. Chantel was tall and strong, a moderately thick body not widening into flared hips but a powerful figure. Her hair was a dark, flowing brown, enough curl in it to bounce, though that changed from day to day, depending on how Chantel wanted to make herself up.

She found a better pair of heels for Chantel's larger feet, toes settling into the open-toed heel, for it was not wise to strap them in too tightly. No, those puppies needed to breathe! In that moment, Chris truly felt like Chantel, light-hearted, horny, looking at men like she looked at women, even as she took on a flowing, rippling top, a skirt that could be pulled away to show off her underwear, everything to arouse and pull on the tips.

To control the club, after all, she needed to be out there, as much as her appetite to turn into woman after woman thrummed powerfully through her. She wanted to get off already again, to shove her hand between her legs and writhe there in a sweaty mess, but she could not, would not, not when there was so much to do.

"Chantel? Didn't I just see you on the floor?"

She grinned at Val, brushing her fingers across her collarbone -- a little lower, grazing breast. The athletic powerhouse sucked in a breath, clearly not expecting that, but Chantel, well, she was not a woman that anyone there, least of all Val with her dirty blonde hair struck through with streaks of blue and red, mixed up in all sorts of crazy shades, talked back to.

"Must have missed me, sugar, but if you hang around, I'll let you know just how you can put on a show too..."

Val was good, but not better than Chantel, and Chris oozed personality and charm, perhaps serpentine in her presentation. She was everything that she could have ever wanted as she passed a cocktail to a man, sitting on the edge of his chair, chuckling throatily, letting her hair swing just so that he could smell her perfume. His eyes were drawn to her tits, but her eyes were, of course, on the real eye candy of the room, Roxy up on stage. The woman's eyes kept flitting to her as if she was trying to put her finger on something, but it was not as if anyone was going to consider her a shapeshifter. No, that was absurd!

Yet there were others there as she wound through the crowd, absorbing woman after woman, her lusts rising. Could she ever feed her appetite so much that she would not need to become them again? Oh, it was impossible, dragging her hand over Cindy's backside as she turned with a tray of drinks, stalking Ruby as her dark skin dipped into the deeper shades of the club. Ruby was a gorgeously tall woman and her large feet held even more promise, as much as Chris had never had the chance to adore them before. That would change, however, as she slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Lady, this club is hopping," she breathed, breath tickling Ruby's ear. "You doing alright out here tonight?"

For as much as she was in control, she was still a motherly figure, absorbing Ruby's essence and form even as she drew her in gently to her chest. Ruby giggled, lighter and flirtier than most others, letting their boobs press together as Chris suppressed a sudden of raw delight. Oh, she'd dreamed about that for so long...

"Yeah, darling, but I've got a handle on things out here, have you?"

Chantel could have said yes and left, for she'd already done what she'd gone out there to do. But there was another way, a way to manipulate things further, her lips parting to tenderly and exotically take Ruby's against hers, tongue plundering the other woman's mouth. They were well matched for size and height and Ruby moaned openly into her mouth, not resisting in the slightest, though she did have to set what she was holding down. It helped to have such a willing partner to put on a show with her, and it seemed that what Chris has spotted between Ruby and Chantel was certainly correct. She trembled, murmuring softly into Ruby's lips. It was always good to know when the rumours were true.

"Ohhh, baby, I didn't think you wanted to do something like that in public."

Chris winked, though Ruby only saw Chantel's eyes dancing back at her, nothing off there at all.

"A little something for later. I think the guys will tip you even better now, not that you need help."

Warmth flooded her tone, but she was under no disillusion that she left a rather flustered woman behind her, fussing with her clothes, the patrons of the club eyeing her up as if they saw fresh lure in her and her body. That was just how Chris wanted it to be, however, for she needed good people on her side. Ruby was one of the good ones, or perhaps a little too clueless in her head to be a bad one. Chantel could be turned too if Ruby was on Chris' side, though Chris was not at all worried that things would come up just peachy for her.

All she needed was a little time.

She took Jessica's form by stealing a pinch of her butt, something in keeping with Chantel's attitude of being able to do anything and everything she wanted, though the woman still squealed.

"Chantel!"

But she was already gone. Out of the way, out of sight and very much out of mind, all so that she could steal more and more forms. She perched next to Sylvanna in the dressing room, pecking her on the cheek, revelling in the boldness of Chantel, the confidence of her new form, however temporary it was, oozing from her.

Ah, it was only a start, just a start, but the beginning of something new, something new and something very beautiful. Chris hardly felt the need to secret herself away all that much anymore, considering that she was in someone else's body. Of course, she had no reason to deliberately go out and embarrass herself, but embarrassing Chantel meant that power was stripped from her, more and more falling into Chris' hands...

She'd waited for that power for too long. Maybe it had begun with revealing herself on stage as Candy, but Chantel was a goddess who never did anything so crass, who never slipped up, regardless of what the stakes were. Thus, laughing, she spun in her chair, tumbling off it as if she was drunk, staggering back up, arse first, the security guard even shaking his head at her.

"Girl, you gotta get a grip."

"Yeah, you can't do that when there's a show to do."

"You've got to hurry up and get it together."

One fall. But a stagger and a drunken "burp" helped that deal. It may have only been the beginning, for such a takeover would take far more than a single night, but Chris was only laying the groundwork. To think of her future, yes, but to lust after shifting into the forms of as many women as possible, confusing them, while they all thought that they were talking to their colleagues and friends.

"Has anyone seen, Chris?" Someone shouted, though she didn't care who it was. "She was due on stage!"

"No, she's already done."

Everyone stared at her, but Chris as Chantel only shrugged.

"I told her to head off. She's done her gig for tonight and got the tips in, what more do you want someone like that to do. We've got to work harder than here."

It was a statement designed to confuse and one that could be taken in many ways, though Chantel's smile was what sealed the deal, others in the dressing area, bright with vanity lights and mirrors and costumes, returning it, however shakily it came. Yes, if it came from Chantel, that must have meant that it was right, everyone going along with her. Still, she had other forms to try out, wanting to play with another darker-skinned beauty again, her paler skin as Chris woefully unappealing.

Latrice was voluptuous with a shockingly tiny tuck of a waste, a black stunner who begged attention. She was often in corsets and cinched for the gods, though that did mean that she was not as flexible on the pole as some of the other dancers were -- not that that meant at all that she didn't bring in the tips. No, she was one of the best and her quiet power was something that Chris duly hungered for, the heave of her tits a siren's call to a shapeshifter on a mission. Chris leaned in close, murmuring in her ear, though she hardly needed to stalk her at all as the open lesbian groaned and trembled into her touch.

"Mmmph, Chantel, I thought you...ah...were..."

"Don't you worry about that."

Because there, truly, was nothing for Latrice to concern herself with as Chantel winked, kissing her cheek, a touch of lipstick left in her wake.

"Something for you to remember me by."

Sowing unrest had never been so easy. But she needed one moment, just a moment, slipping behind a rack of clothes, head thrown back, lips parting and closing as her hand thrust between her legs.

She masturbated madly even as she transformed yet again, changing Chantel's sinuous form for one that was thicker and fuller. Her thighs blossomed into womanly thickness, though she'd have to find the rack of clothes for larger ladies, her height increasing, though she wondered at just how Latrice was six-foot tall. It may have been a little unusual but all in the most erotic of ways, at least when it came to transforming, kicking off her shoes to allow her feet to grow larger still. All the better to support a body that was devoutly gorgeous and begging for attention that only her adoring audience, her fans, could give her.

There was a softness in the fullness of Latrice's face as Chantel's form became another's, lips lighter, yet more kissable at the same time. Her hair darkened to a deep black, though it appeared pulled back, pulled up high on her head so that the ringlets and natural lightness of the hair could buoy itself up, even then. It was good how her transformation could pick up on little things like how the dancers wore their hair, yet another tiny flirt to hide away as she dug her fingers between the folds of a thickly plump pussy, juices flowing freely.

"Has anyone seen Chantel?"

"She was in here."

"No, she was out there."

"What are you even on?"

Confusion spread, one dancer seen in one place when they were meant to have gone home, others in two places at once. The dancers spat angry words, eyes flashing with wicked intent, for it so very often was every woman for herself out there, even if Chris was set to rise above them all. She transformed into the powerful Latrice with a shudder of her shoulders, a little more fat shaping her body -- but she had seen Latrice walk with that goddess-like swagger to her more than one time. For she had been watching and waiting, listening for so long, for her chance to make her mark in the club, to change everything for the better when she had not even realised that such changing powers were in her reach.

"Chantel?"

Someone caught sight of her back there but thought that she was still Chantel, thus she ducked further back as Latrice, her legs shaking, wanting another change, yes another. Her skin deepened further, the richly dark shades so much more alluring than plain white, her lips parted and eyes dark with mischievous glee.

A corset, tightened to form her waist. Heels to die for, showing off her feet. She was taller, bigger, better, stronger, and a smile painted her lips as she donned a type of babydoll over the top. It may have covered her up a little more but it was required over the corset to show off the designed figure, her legs all on show up to her hips, a tuck of cloth between her legs just barely hiding her plump pussy. Orgasm ached through her and, again, all Chris wanted was to feel that high, to shift, again and again, moving through form after form even if there seemed to be no end to the pleasure she could take.

"Latrice -- you're up!"

She took a moment, drawing Latrice back into a storage room while they called her name repeatedly, though locking her up in there would only be a for a little while. Latrice would have thought that she'd seen a woman that looked a little like her, but could not name them -- and, of course, no one at the club looked like Latrice, as unique and bolshy as she was, so she must have imagined it. No one would believe her when she was found, before the club closed, hoarse after pounding on the locked door for hours while Chris shook her hips in Latrice's body and tucked dollar bills after bills into her top, nipples showing lightly through the tighter fabric. She turned and twisted, bent over, showed off her buttocks, everything about Latrice's body knew to her, thick and wanton, everything that radiated a sense of control over her surroundings. Maybe Chris had had to give up what control she'd thought she'd had left over herself to find her calling, the truth in herself. Truth be told, Chris didn't much care about that anymore.

As the lights flashed and the other dancers moved around her, performing the show that she knew all too well, even if she had never gotten to take centre stage like Latrice before, Chris revelled in her element. She took a chance, for no one would ever believe it to be so, the rapidly flashing, pulsing lights hiding her form as she shifted rapidly, clothes softening around her, though they were never too tight. One form and then another slipped into her control as she played with Ruby, with Chantel, with Roxy, with Maria and more. Even the other dancers around her were shapes that she could wear like clothing, though all the audience saw was her form, her figure, another dancer. Whatever they thought would bring them back to the club again and again and it would be Chris behind it all, the one who had brought the passion of the club to its knees.

They'd need her more than ever, seeding words of praise for herself, turning the tide that had been set against her. Back as Latrice, she parted her lips to show a flash of white teeth behind her lipstick, though to step back into her pale-skinned body as Chris no longer seemed as appealing.

It was better that all attention was on her. Better that way, giving her more than she could have ever dreamed off, smiling at her crowd, her adoring audience. The tips rained down, more than she had ever before earned in a night, and it was all her due, even as the owner of the club shook his head from the balcony above the main stage. He'd wonder what was different about Latrice, why there was even more money flowing than usual, but when Latrice attributed it to Chris, well, he'd listen. Not to Chris, of course, until later, but the voices that mattered to the money flowing in the club, yes.

Chris took her form, backstage calling, another performance and another change dragging anxiously at her, her pussy hot and flushed all over again. There was no way to satisfy herself, to tease things down a little more, but to masturbate again, to shift again and again and again.

She moaned. Everything that she'd ever wanted stretching out before her, waiting for her to take that first step. The other strippers had no idea what was coming to them.

Chris grinned, a wink dazzling her audience.

The club was already hers.