Work Text:
“Uhg, another fucking notice.”
Stacy plopped down on their saved-from-the-curb couch, the indent from the butts of times passed making her sink down a few inches as she rests her head on the back of the cushion.
“I think that’s the third. Pretty sure they’re gonna shut off power next month if we don’t pay,” her boyfriend said through his last bite of cup noodles.
“Stupid, stupid ‘job market’,” she grumbled, closing her eyes for a moment to let her misery really sink in. She felt her boyfriend shift on the couch beside her, laying back much like she was. No power meant no work, and no work meant no money. And no money meant…
“I don’t wanna say it… but we’re honestly one paycheck from being homeless.”
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted with a groan, turning her head to look at him. His eyes looked just as tired as hers no doubt.
“I’m trying, Case… You know I’m trying.”
“I know,” he mumbled, turning his head away. “I know.”
Silence gripped the room, the steady tick of the distant clock on the wall the only thing to break the din. It was as oppressive as the slight chill of the apartment. Likely colder outside too. Stacy idly wondered how long they could get away with sleeping in their cars.
“I’m… going to bed,” Casey stated, moving to slowly rise from the couch. She looked up at him, a frown tugging on her lips. Her mind filled with all the stories of relationships that came to a crashing end because of money troubles. It wasn’t -her- fault her last manager was a dickhead who wanted all the plump girls serving instead of her scrawny lack-of-an-ass.
“Case… I love you.”
“… I love ya too, Stace.”
The hesitation gripped her heart like a cold claw. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t -either- of their faults that rent had gone up. That the power bill got majorly fucked up because of his ex. That they were flat -broke-.
She watched him walk away to their bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. A new flare of determination welled in her chest; she wasn’t going to let this tear them apart. Tomorrow, she was going to find a job. By the end of the week, she was going to be employed by some means.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The regular job boards were just as unhelpful as they had ever been.
The moment Casey left for work that morning after, Stacy got to work trying to find work. And it was excruciating and soul crushing. It felt as though every single job required some degree or five years of experience in some obscure, specific thing that she wouldn’t be able to get anywhere but getting that job itself.
Clicking through page after page on their shared computer, this website asking for a log in and this one asking her to sub to a newsletter, it was getting annoying. And anxiety inducing. Her fingernails were bitten, her black polish chipped and flaking. It was starting to truly feel hopeless.
Until, finally, something caught her eye.
It would have been easy enough to miss, really; an advertisement for Barbie’s Cleaning Service. A maid service in the area, it looked like. The advertisement banner was on the side of the web page that usually held scams or spam. What caught her eye, though, was the ‘urgently hiring’ on the tagline in shimmery gold lettering.
She stared at it in their bedroom for a while, considering her options. She had exhausted damn near everything to the point where she was considering picking up gig jobs on craigslist. and this sketchy advertisement, no doubt targeting her due to her multi-hour long desperate search for work, was starting to look more and more appealing.
Stacy frowned, then shook her head, clicking off the page. No reason to flood Casey’s PC full of malware.
But then it kept popping up. Insistent. Like the advertiser for this cleaning service really -was- urgent in their hiring.
After another hour of fruitless searching… she caved.
“Fuck it,” she sighed, clicking the advertisement. “What’s the worse that could happen?”
The moment she clicked on the advert, it was as if her eyes had been assaulted with the bubbly pink background and golden letters of the text. Images of mansions and houses far too nice for the area around her home decorated the screen with a border of glittery stars that made the whole web page look like it was a scam for sure. Either that, or it was made by someone who had no clue what they were doing with web design.
Stacy sucked her teeth, staring at the page with a withering glare- most notably the big button of ‘apply now’ in all caps.
Desperate for literally any option, she let her cursor hover over that glittery button and clicked.
The browser rolled over, loading what was possibly the most ridiculous but also the easiest ‘application’ she had ever seen in her life.
It asked three questions.
‘Do you like cute outfits?’
‘Are you bored of your boring life?’
‘What is your address?’
It felt more like a cheap quiz found on facebook than it was an application. Two yes/no questions and her address? Not even her name, her social, her anything?
Stacy squinted a littler harder at the ‘application’, then rolled her eyes. Maybe this was just a preliminary and the actual application would be sent in the mail? Even still, if this thing was a scam, she doubted they hadn’t already scraped the PC for any of her information. Not like they could do anything with her shit credit and empty bank account.
So, she answered the silly questions, submitting the ‘application’ only to get a glittery message as she hit submit.
‘Congratulations! Your totally cute uniform is on it’s way! Welcome to your new life!’
Stacy… -stared- at that. She… had the job? Nothing else, no more application, no awkward phone call where she had to perform like a perfect little corporate machine?
Then it hit her. It was a joke. This whole thing was a joke.
She felt her face flush with indignation, exiting out of her numerous pages and standing abruptly, emotion swirling in her chest.
Stacy had gotten used to the uncaring eyes of numerous potential employers, looking down at her as if she were dirt. But this? Making a -joke- out of someone’s employment for some stupid facsimile of hope?
“Fuck you,” she managed to growl before turning and deciding to just… crawl back into bed. Into her pit of dopamine and misery as she could scroll herself into oblivion.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The evening after the ‘application’ was uneventful and cold.
She had told Casey about the ‘joke’ application, feeling a little more justified in his clear anger as well. They were both struggling and some asshole with no idea how to code a website decided to play with the feelings of the desperate. She even tried to show him the shitty page, cursing herself a little for not taking a picture as it appeared like the advertisement had been taken down by the job board. Maybe enough people had reported it, who knew.
The next morning, Stacy decided to at least try and feel more like a human being. She walked out of their bedroom with the intention to make coffee, but paused at the sight of the state of their apartment.
It was a mess. Old instant food wrappers and containers littered the coffee table with dirty glasses and mugs half full with old coffee decorated the side tabled. Dust clung to damn near every surface and in the kitchen, dishes were overflowing. They weren’t normally such slobs, but depression had a way of eating the desire to clean.
She stood there in the doorway to their bedroom. She leaned against the door frame, eyes skating over old band posters that tried to make the space feel a little more like home. The grey clock that hung on the wall, announcing the time. All of it had a little dust on it, with a single, long strand of cobweb hanging in the corner of their beige living room.
“Gotta deal with that at some point,” she grumbled, pushing herself from the door frame to walk into the kitchen and make her coffee.
Except, they were out of coffee.
She stared down into the empty coffee tin and let her head fall back as a groan spilled over her thin lips of contempt for their poverty.
“Fine. Run it is,” she sighed, closing up the empty container, turning to go back into their bedroom to put up her brunette hair into a messy bun and put on decent work out clothes before nabbing her keys and water bottle and heading out.
Normally, she had loved runs. They were a great place to think and clear her head. But now, she blared her music in her earbuds, trying to drown out all thought as her feet hit the pavement in their neighborhood and put her long legs to work.
When she returned home after a good two mile morning run, she was surprised to find a package at their apartment door. Not just that, a package with a gold bow, like it was a damn Christmas present for a bimbo with pink, glittery cardboard.
Stacy stared at it, immediately being reminded of that application she had filled out. If it was from them, how did it get here so quick?
No, there was no way.
She moved closer, staring down at it and, sure enough, the label read proudly that it was for her first and last name from ‘Barbie’s Cleaning Service’.
The crazy thing was they didn’t even have stamps on the box. It was almost like some had just left it on her doorstep. A shudder moved down her spine. Was this some kind of stalker thing? Should she report this?
And yet, everything in her for some reason just told her no. To bring it inside and open up the box.
So, she did just that. She picked up the box, noting how light it was to carry, and stepped into their messy little apartment, closing the door behind her.
She set the box on the kitchen counter, looking down at it as she leaned over it, inspecting it. It looked like it was completely harmless, but the fact that it had showed up not even a full day after she had filled out the application? It felt too good to be true. Maybe there was more paperwork or something and it was just a really local place?
“Well, not gonna find out staring at it,” she murmured to herself, and opened the box.
Inside was a maid outfit. But the kind of maid outfit you might find at a sex shop. More lingerie than actual clothing. She picked it up, noting there were fishnet stockings and it was all int eh traditional black and white colors. No paperwork, though there was a simple, heart shaped card that simply read ‘Enjoy your new life, sexy!’
“Okay,” she says slowly, looking at the obscenely short skirt on the outfit. It’s like it would barely cover her ass given her six-foot-something frame, and the chest seemed like it was meant for much bigger breasts than her measly b cups.
A small glimmer of something settled in her stomach. Maybe it was disappointment as she put the outfit back in the box with a sigh.
“Whatever,” she grumbled aloud, moving to the living room to sulk on the couch for a while. Maybe scroll through social media until she felt the will power to apply at places again.
Except as she sat down, her eyes flicked over the old cups and plates. The pizza boxes up against the far wall. The layer of dust over everything. The cobwebs clinging to their old band posters. The place was, admittedly, a mess.
She looked around and pursed her lips and decided why not make a better use of the day and clean things up?
With a soft groan, she lifted herself from the couch, moving over to their tiny kitchen to get a few cleaning supplies, looking one more time at that little maid outfit. She couldn’t honestly be considering wearing it, was she? No, she thought, shaking her head. She wasn’t gonna just go and put on some random outfit to clean their apartment. Besides, she doubted it would actually fit her.
She worked to reach the duster to the corners of the apartment on her tiptoes, actually able to reach unlike Casey could. Their friends always commented how funny it was that she decided to date someone shorter than her, but love won out over wanting a tall, beefy boyfriend.
Wait, beefy? No, she wasn’t into muscles. What a weird thought to have.
She moved around the living room, clearing away the dust from neglected surfaces and reapplying adhesive to the posters. She felt a warm swell of accomplishment, then turned to look at the trash around the space. With a song on her mind, she hummed, getting to work getting a trash bag out and collecting all of the mess they had made. Old ramen cups, pizza boxes, wrappers, some plastic utensils and other things all were loaded up in the trash as she found herself transitioning to humming a fun pop song.
Stacy paused, hand on the door handle. Her brow furrowed. She -hated- pop music. Maybe it was just an earworm from the radio. It wasn’t too bad after all. Kinda catchy, if she had to admit it.
The goth worked and worked, vacuuming the living room and placing the dishes in the sink. She could have swore that everything in their old apartment felt a bit brighter and happier, but she could have been mistaken. It -had- been a while since they had done any major cleaning after all.
She thought as she wiped down the table with a hot soapy rag, thinking about Casey. Maybe he was just stressed out and needed a little relief? Honestly, Stacy could feel herself wanting that too. It had been a rough few months and maybe they just needed a little fun to pep things up between them.
She paused mid-wipe, looking over at the kitchen. At the box, still sat innocently on the counter, it’s contents still held within.
Stacy pursed her lips in thought, then decided to put it on. It couldn’t hurt to at least see if it could fit her, right?
A few minutes to battling with getting on stockings and the straps of the outfit and it was on, surprisingly well fitted despite her size. With a curious glance, she cast her eyes to the mirror caught a glimpse of herself in it’s reflection.
Her dark hair was still up in that messy bun, a few strands having escaped to frame her pale face. She didn’t wear makeup much save for a dark lip stain and the outfit appeared to almost fit perfectly. She could have -swore- when she had picked it up it was meant for a much shorter person, but it easily moved over her body like a second skin. The thong on the back of it though made her tiny ass look a little silly, while the frills tried to showcase what little cleavage she had to show. Still, Casey had always loved her legs and those were definitely well on display with the fishnets.
She couldn’t help but smirk a little bit at this. It was dumb, and yet? She felt hot. Silly but hot.
And she was going to clean up their bedroom next!
Rejuvenated with a new wave of excitement she hadn’t felt in months, Stacy made her way into their shared bedroom and got to cleaning up. Clothes were picked up from the floor and either tossed into the laundry basket or put away, makeup was cleaned and cleared from her little makeshift vanity, the curtains opened to let in the light from outside over their eclectic little room. Dust was wiped and cleaned away off of surfaces and framed pictures of old horror movie posters, and once again she found herself humming to that catchy pop song.
Except this time, she didn’t stop herself.
It was later that evening when her boyfriend came home, tired as usual from his shift. His exhausted face cracked into confusion and then a laugh as he looked at her, sat on the couch in her new, sexy little maid outfit.
“What is that? When did you get that?”
Stacy couldn’t help but giggle, moving to stand and strutting toward him with a newly blossomed confidence.
“I got a package in the mail and decided to try it on! You like it? Been putting it to work too,” she laughed.
“I can see,” he said with a happy little smile as he looked around their much cleaner apartment.
“Shit… did you do this? It looks amazing,” he praised in awe, earning a brighter smile from his girlfriend.
“It’s like… a -huge- improvement. I think this outfit is actually kinda helping?”
He chuckled, pulling her in and giving her a quick kiss of the lips.
“Honestly, it’s nice just coming home to beautiful woman and a clean home. “
Stacy felt her heart lift, feeling lighter than she had for a while.
“I mean I technically have a job… I guess I just have to wait to get more assignments? That’s where this maid outfit is from…”
While they relaxed and wound down from the day, she explained the situation. The strange package, the little note, and the potential for more money coming in had them both feeling happier. Their couch felt a little more comfortable as they cuddled up to one another and their libido that had been mostly dead for months had… returned. All thanks to that silly little maid outfit.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
It was the next day after Casey went off to work, that she awoke to the first… change.
Honestly, it was barely noticeable at first. She just felt so comfortable, rolling around in their sheets she didn’t think to check that they were -their- sheets. They were so soft and smelled fresh, the shudder of arousal warming through her as she smelled her boyfriend on the pillows. It was so comfy that it took her a few moments to recognize the sheets were silkier against her bare skin. A totally different texture than what they normally were.
“Wha…?”
She rolled over, moving the blanket off of her as she looked down. She was entirely nude from the night before, the memory of her and Case making ‘use’ of the maid outfit sending goosebumps over her pale… not so pale skin.
“Huh? When did I… get a tan?”
She blinked slowly, taking in her rather thin frame. Her skin, normally pale, seemed to be a few shades darker, though that could just be a trick of the light. Or so she reasoned with herself. What was decidedly -not- a trick of the light was the rich violet satin sheets she was laying in.
Stacy gasped, looking around herself as she sat upright quickly. She looked around, still trying to keep sleep from her eyes as she rubbed at them. The room felt… bigger. Had it always been this size? They didn’t have carpet before, right?
It was so strange to look at a space so familiar and alien at the same time.
Her eyes slid from the large bay windows covered by their dark curtains to the floor where her maid outfit sat. She felt a pulse through her core, a desperate need filling her that almost threatened to choke her. A -want- to be in that outfit. To clean! It was her job to keep the place tidy.
Her fingers twitched against he sheets, then balled into a fist as she felt her breath coming quicker. She felt strange. What was happening? This didn’t feel right, this wasn’t their tiny little bedroom, she was -sure- of it.
‘Enjoy your new life, sexy!’
That little note came to her mind and briefly she wondered if, somehow, the maid outfit had done this. She stared down at the scant bits of clothing, then shook her head.
No...No this was a dream. Just a really, really vivid dream.
It had to be, she thought. But she didn’t quite want to wake up. For some reason she didn’t want to.
So instead, she pulled on the maid outfit.
Everything felt snug, like a perfect fit made just for her. Her hands moved down to her ass, squeezing it as it felt almost like it was… growing.
Her heart slammed in her chest, and almost unbidden a laugh left her. Bright and bubbly as she pressed a hand to the door handle to leave their room.
The living room for sure was bigger. She dragged her eyes along the large, leather sofa, the massive TV, the deep red wallpaper with gold accents. In her mind, she felt like this was something one would see in one of those fancy mansions. A sitting room more than a living room to an apartment. She stepped forward, only to realize her thighs were rubbing together. Another heated pulse pushed through her and she gasped, catching herself in the bathroom mirror again.
Was she… shorter than before?
Her eyes scanned her appearance in the mirror, taking in that her skin was shifting before her very eyes. Pale flesh turning to a deep, sun-kissed tan, spreading like spilling ink over the side of her face. Her dark, mousy brown hair was darkening slightly, like the ends had been dyed black, the thin strands looking thicker. Her thighs pushed together, her teeth biting her lower, plumper lip as she watched herself… changing. Before her very eyes.
Panic gripped her, her breath coming faster as she stumbled back from her grip on the couch, her chest feeling heavier than before.
“Wh-wh-what’s happening to me,” she mewled, her hands moving over her breasts. They were a b cup, maybe, but now they looked closer to C. Had she been changing like this overnight too? Her breasts and ass swelling?
Panic gripped her and she looked around for her phone. It had to be around here in her cleaning from yesterday. She scanned the ‘living room’, walking forward and nearly tripping as she caught sight of her legs. They were for sure shorter. Was she actively shrinking? How short was she going to get?
The carpet beneath her feet was soft and plush, and in the back of her mind she knew that the vacuum was in a closet somewhere. No, not the vacuum, her -phone-! It was nearby, she knew it was.
Stacy pushed through the warmth brewing in her stomach, walking into the kitchen. It was looking more like one of those kitchens used with a bar, more set to make drinks than to cook real meals. Still, her hands moved over the counter top, her mind racing. She needed to find her phone and call Casey. This was an absolute emergency. One she wasn’t sure any ER could fix.
Fear surged in her gut until she found a phone. Which was to say it didn’t look like her phone. The case was no longer chipped black, but a pink, glittery case, charms dangling off of it with stars and animals. She blinked staring down at the strange device that she knew in the back of her mind was -hers-, but she couldn’t figure out why she would have something so… girly.
Her hand moved over it’s large screen, only for it to ding and reveal numerous notifications. A… Gucci purchase?!
She snatched up her phone, the momentary worry of her slowly transforming body washed away by a deeper worry; had someone stolen her information?! She would absolutely be in a much worse state if a -Gucci- purchase went through.
Her hands fumbled the phone unlocking it, her eyes now catching the neat, french tip manicure. All at once the worry of what she had seen in the mirror came crawling back, her home, her body, even her phone transforming before her eyes. This was some kind of… this had to be a dream. This had to be a nightmare.
But why did she feel so incredibly horny?
“C-come on, come on,” she grumbled to herself, opening up her phone to look at the notification. Her stomach sank to her feet. Seven thousand dollars. A seven. Thousand dollar purchase.
“O-oh my god,” she murmured, staring in shock at her phone. This had to be a nightmare, one she needed to wake up from. None of this could be real.
Stacy gasped, looking down as she leaned forward on the counter, her boobs were getting bigger. It was strange to see them change before her very eyes, the backdrop of the counter changing from a plastic white to a sheen of black marble. Everything around her was shifting and changing like she were moving in water, and she could feel a warm fuzz fall over her mind. She whined, pinching her thighs together as another swell of arousal moved through her, her mind on trying to get things cleaned for Master.
Wait… Master?
She huffed and panted, fingertips moving over the swell of her growing breasts, the leeching color of her tan having moved down to her chest. Her hands were smaller than she remembered, right? This… this wasn’t normal. All around her it felt like the world was slightly bigger and yet she felt like her hips were wider, thighs thicker, chest plumper.
“C-Case,” she manages to squeak out, grabbing her phone to make another order. That handbag was so totally worth-
“Wha-? N-no, stop! No, I’m not some… dumb bimbo!” She puts her phone down, leaning forward. She then felt a slight breeze, face hot as she realizes her breasts weren’t the only thing growing in size.
“I need to get help, I n-need,” she mumbles, pushing herself off of the counter to look around. The glimmer of a crystal chandelier caught her eyes, a whimper pushing past her lips. She felt like something was… fucking her almost. Like the transformation to the apartment, her body, her clothes- all of it was making her want to just kneel on the ground, ride on a thick dildo…
What was she wanting to do again?
She stands up, hands lifted to her expanding tits. They were definitely Cs now. Maybe even bigger. She looked up at the door. Right, there were other people. They might know what’s going on. It might not just be her.
Despite the slick of her cunt and the heat in her abdomen, she moves herself to the door, gripping the brass handle under her perfectly manicured hand. She needed to walk out and get help. She was losing herself and this wasn’t right… this couldn’t be right.
Her wrist turns the door handle, pushing the door outwards… to find a hallway.
Not just a hallway. The corridor leading to the office. Two bathrooms, the guest bedroom in this wing of the house.
House? This was supposed to be an apartment, not a -mansion-…
Still, she steps out, tentatively into the hallway. Her eyes move over the same, dark red wallpaper, the glittering gold of sconces, the large windows that looked out over the garden. Her feet touch the hard wood floor, then the rug running down the center of the corridor. It felt more like a castle to her than an apartment.
And yet, she was aware this was all… hers. All of it. And she had dusted those sconces, and she had wiped clean those windows.
A gasp pulled from Stacy’s lungs, a low whine leaving her as she pinches her thickened thighs together, almost temped to reach her fingers down to her desperate pussy to have some relief. She felt her eyes cross, looking at herself in the glass of those cleaned windows.
Her tits were so big and bouncy in this maid costume! And her hips looked like they were still filling out, pushing her dress so the frills bounced as she walked. A smile crept onto her face, a giggle out of her throat. This was… this was good. This was totally good!
Her head was starting to feel empty, the buzz of her arousal soaring through her. She leaned against the door frame, looking down as she ran her fingertips over her body, her manicured nails dragging over the exposed skin with a moan.
“M-Master…!” She cried out, all sense of purpose leaking from her mind as she felt her core clam down, her thighs squeezing together as she panted and whimpered.
As she came down from the high, her mind felt blissfully empty. All remnants of who Stacy once was fading into the background of her mind. Then it reached her. The buzzing. It was her phone.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Casey felt like the day was moving at a snails pace.
Everything was feeling odd. He’d had this odd buzzing feeling in his head that just wouldn’t go away, he was forgetting things he should have remembered, and he felt all in all a little… dumber.
Maybe it was just doe to lack of sleep. Still, he didn’t regret staying up a little late last night showing his ‘cute little maid’ just how much he appreciated her.
A smirk crawled up on his lips then. It wasn’t so bad. He got to go home and see his girlfriend, after all.
When work got out, he walked back to his car, brain repeatedly going back to how she arched her back, how she moaned his name. How -hot- she was last night. Maybe he could convince her to keep that maid outfit? After all, it did wonders for her confidence.
Casey sighed as he opened up the door to his shitty little beat up SUV, moving to pull on his seat belt when he noticed something weird. The seat felt like it had been pushed up a bunch. His knees where bent now. That wasn’t right at all, had someone gotten into his car?
He adjusted the seat, sliding it back to make room for his legs as he gave a cursory glance around. Everything looked like it was in the right place. His spare hardhat, the wrappers from fast food, the chap stick in his cup holder. It’s not like he had anything of value to steal in his car anyway. Except maybe the radio or wires, but his dash looked entirely untouched.
“Must have left it unlocked,” he grumbled to himself, closing the car door and turning on the ignition. Maybe one of the guys had noticed and had cranked his seat all the way forward to fuck with him? He’d just have to triple check his key fob was working still later.
The drive home was uneventful, letting his mind wander. The chief thing it wandering to being his girlfriend. He didn’t know he had a kink for that sort of thing, but imagining her in the maid outfit had his stomach swimming with arousal and his dick swelling in his pants. It was… nice, really. All the troubles they had been facing and this one little mistake or happenstance seemed to fix everything in his mind.
His worries about money had been largely pushed tot he back of his mind, and he was grateful for that. He had forgotten that what he really wanted in all of this was a partner, not just an extra income. Money would always come back around, he thought. But if he lost Stacy… Well, he didn’t want to think about the heavy stuff.
In fact, he reached for his phone in the passenger seat. It used to be he’d call her every time he was on his way home from work, but lately he’d been finding more comfort in the heavy bass of his music. It’d been a while since he’d just found himself missing her voice.
He turned down their usual road, quickly unlocking his phone and searching her name in his contacts. It was then he’d noticed something strange.
Well, more than strange.
He was about to make another, familiar turn when he looked up. There was an apartment building on the corner he always turned at, with fake red flowers in the upper windowsill on the window facing the street. It was something so built into his routine, he’d thought he hadn’t even noticed it until the memory of it flickered in his mind.
However what stood in place of the building now was a big, pink mansion.
It was like something out of one of those barbie commercials. The whole house surrounded by hedges, the pinks exterior walls and the white trim kept almost shockingly white. Most of the curtains were drawn but light filtered from behind them. Someone lived here. But when had this building gotten here?
He hadn’t even noticed himself slowing down to stare at the massive, anomalous building before he heard Stacy on his phone.
“Hello? Helloooo!”
Shocked back to reality, he lifted his phone to his ear.
“H-hey, Stace. You haven’t uh… seen that big fuckin’ pink mansion in place of one of the old apartment complexes, have you?”
“What? Mansion? Like, what are you talking about, Master?”
He started speaking, then paused. ‘Master?’
“Wh- Stace I’m being serious. There’s just a mansion here now! In the middle of downtown!”
“Hmmm, well, I don’t know about that, but I’ve got your office all ready for you, Master!”
He paused again. He was being serious but… As he drove past the mansion, his mind turned to other things, the buzzing in his head feeling a little louder. He was drawn, instead, to thinking about the tent in his pants. To seeing his girlfriend’s fat ass under the skirt of that maid outfit.
“I… H-heh, y-yeah? Got my office all ready for me?”
His hand gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, warmth blooming through his body as she giggled.
“Mhmm, I’ve been working so hard, Master! You always leave it so messy!”
There was something about how she said ‘messy’ that just sounded… enticing. His skin practically vibrated with a want to get home. She hadn’t done this kind of dirty talk in a good few years.
“I plan on leaving it really messy when I get home,” he found himself nearly growling into the phone, the girlish gasp and giggle making his cock throb.
“Oh my gosh, Maaasterrrr, you can’t! I just cleaned up!”
The complaint was almost like a whine, a laugh leaving him.
“You better have your uniform on, Maid. I’m almost ho-ohhhhh whaaat the fuck?”
Horny as Casey was, it was very, very difficult for even him to fail to notice that his apartment complex was gone. Much like the one before where he held a very clear memory of the building in his mind, now in it’s place sat a mansion. The ruddy, red-brown brick was replaced with pristine white siding, the old windows that barely kept out the cold replaced instead with what looked like brand new window fixtures, complete with bright blue shutters. Instead of grass mowed once every three weeks now was a manicured garden of large white flowers and hedges all trimmed to perfection.
It was, very much, -not- his home.
And yet, something in it felt like it -was- his home.
“What’s the matter Master? Oh! Right, I need to let you in the gate!”
“What?” He could only lamely respond with that, looking as he had turned to enter the long driveway to the house. The broken concrete of the parking lot was gone, replaced instead with smooth, black pavement.
The heavy black gate made a small squeal, pulling back to invite him into this strange place. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Casey felt like none of this could be real. It was insane to think it -could- be real!
“S-Stace?”
“Yes, Master?”
“N-… Nevermind.”
What could he even say? ‘Honey, where is our shitty little apartment?’ He couldn’t even begin to formulate an idea in any world where that made sense.
So, he gently touched the gas with his foot. He may as well drive… home?
He pulled into the driveway slowly, looking at the building again. It was like a movie set had been placed over his building, with rounded towers framing the large porch that welcomed him inside. He squirmed in his seat, his arousal still thick on his mind. How it could be when he was staring at this massive, three story manor was beyond him.
Finally, he pulled up tot the garage, staring at it for a long moment. No more were the little parking garages and instead was a three car garage, staring back at him. The doors were closed, but he reached up and there, as it should be, was the button he used to open up his designated garage door. He pushed it and the door slowly began to roll open, inviting him in like the mouth of some yawning monster.
Casey stared ahead. The garage was -his-, yet it couldn’t be his. Was this whole day a dream?
“Maaaaaster, come on! I’ve been waiting, like, all day!”
The sound of Stacy’s acting… it -was- acting, right? Regardless, it made him look away from the open mouth of the garage. He pushed the button again, deciding he wasn’t ready yet to park his car inside a strange garage yet.
“I’ll be in in a sec,” he managed to mumble out, before ending the call.
He sat in his car for a few more moments, letting his mind try and process this all. His hands moved to the steering wheel of his car, once again noticing that he was uncomfortably cramped. He scowled, moving his hand down beneath the seat, adjusting it back for the second time. When had his seat even slid?
He moved to unbuckle his seat belt and opened the door, climbing out of his car, nearly tripping as he did so. He was -sure- his legs weren’t this long before. But how could that be happening too? First his house, now his body? He shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his inky black hair and turned to look at his car.
That… was -not- his car.
What sat instead in front of him was a brand new, incredibly shiny Mercedes. In a deep, shimmer blue.
Hit heart thumped hard in his chest, and Casey caught a look at himself in the reflection of the tinted windows. A lump caught in his throat and he looked down, gasping at the swelling of his muscles beneath a crisp, black suit. He looked like he had come out of a meeting from a law firm than a factory.
“What is happening…?!”
He pressed his hands to his chest, feeling his muscles growing broader, wider. A spike of arousal shot through him, nearly knocking him to his knees as he gasped, the pressure of his pants damn near like a prison at this rate.
“S-S-Stace! Stacy,” he called, looking at the house in a panic. That warmth hung over his shoulders, his legs carrying him tot he door almost without even thinking about it. He felt dazed, catching sight of his face in the reflection of one of the windows. His hair… it was turning blonde. The tips like a bad dye job.
The door opened, and in the doorway stood Stacy. Or what… he knew was Stacy.
The short little maid wore her silky black hair in a messy bun behind her head, wide, blue eyes staring up at him with a mix of lust and excitement. Her skin held a sun kissed tan, nothing like Stacy’s pale skin… right? Stacy was pale. Also way taller than him.
He stared at her, dazed before she giggled.
“Welcome home, Master,” she crooned, reaching forward a manicured hand. What kind of maid had a manicure?
“S- Stacy., what’s happening?” It came out slowly, uncertainly as he walked forward, taking her hand. His eyes went straight to her breasts, the hefty H cups damn near falling out of the top of her maid outfit.
She giggled and pulled him inside, a little smile on her painted red lips.
“You’re coming home, Master! And you wanted to make a -mess- in your office, right?”
“I-” He choked on his words, pausing as he saw her legs. Her thick thighs were indented with those long stockings, her ass barely covered by the skirt of her uniform. It had been several hours since he had fucked his good little maid, and it was -far- too long.
"Mmm, you're acting so -weird-, Master," his maid whined. "Come on!"
His eyes were drawn to her ass like a moth to a flame, but then he caught sight of the deep, burgundy rugs. It was enough o make him look around as she lead him up the stairs and take in the large room. The foyer, he thought it was called. His brain prickled as he took in the subtle dark wood trimmings, and the gold light fixtures. The wallpaper itself looked like something out of one of those older style victorian houses, paisley with deep maroons and reds.
This was his… house… right? This felt so strangely familiar and yet he could feel his body growing warmer, like he was about to begin to sweat. His breathing quickened as he paused in his steps, looking at himself in a small mirror on the hallway wall.
“Master? Are you alright,” the maid asked, though he couldn’t give her an answer.
He watched as his face was shifting before his very eyes, his grey gaze swimming with a hue of green he’d never seen before. He brought up a hand, gasping as he noted the tan compared between his fingers and his face, his hands moving up to his hair as it now held far more blonde than black.
“S-Stacy, what… What’s happening?”
His maid – Stacy – cocked her head at him in confusion.
“I don’t know what you mean? You’re just looking at a mirror?”
He scoffed, a sound catching in his throat.
“N-no, I’m… I’m changing! I’m taller!”
She stared at him again, this time giggling brightly.
“What do you mean? You've always been so big and strong!”
She stepped back, giving a little twirl, her skirt lifting over her thick ass.
“And you got me this totally cute maid outfit! Don't you remember, silly?”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Mostly because it all sounded insane. A maid outfit did all of this? He looked back at his reflection, noting the stubble on his jaw, the swirl of green overtaking his eyes. And yet he just felt so horny looking at it. He looked great, after all. And so did she.
Head filled with that fog, he pushed away his incredulity. After all, this was nice. It was like… a super nice dream.
“Yeah… yeah, it’s great,” he rumbled, answered only by his maid giggling and taking his hand.
“Come on! Your office is right here, Master!”
Casey looked at the brass doorknob set against the deep, dark door. It all looked so… rich. Because he was rich in this dream. He was -really- rich. All worries of money were melting away from him, not trying to think about the oddity of it all. Right now, he just really, really needed to get out of this stuffy suit.
He opened the door, looking around briefly at the… familiar? Familiar room. Fancy rugs and a big, fancy desk, with a big, fancy, comfy chair sitting behind it. It was whatever. But he needed out of these pants.
“Should I let you get comfortable, Master?”
His fingertips were already working to loosen his tie, to pull off his clothes as he walked to his chair. He flopped down into it, looking down as the sunlight glowed through the large glass window behind him. His chest held a swirl of color, the pale skin fading into nothing as he watched his muscles flex on his stomach. He was a little flabby before, but now his skin seemed to dip into what looked like a six pack, a V forming to his groin.
“Do you need… help, Master?”
He looked up, the maid staring rather blatantly at his crotch. He felt another spike shoot through him, a hunger unlike any he’s known coming over him.
“Yeah… Get to work on letting me out of these pants, will you?”
She didn’t need to be asked twice. The maid moved around the desk wish a smirk, laughing lightly as she got on her knees in front of him.
“It’s a good thing I already had my hair up, right, Master? Mmmm, you're so muscly...!”
His mind was drifting like a loose boat on a river moving much too fast. His head felt damn near empty, enjoying this dream for all it was. After all, he would wake up and this would all just be gone. But he didn’t want to think about that right now.
He wanted to get his cock sucked by a super hot babe at his feet.
Her fingers moved over the front of his pants, the very clear tent there being her goal. A shiver rolled down his spine as he watched her work, his blonde bangs barely keeping anything from view. Finally she reached the hem of his pants, and with a firm tug, she pulled it down.
The reaction was pretty much immediate. He relaxed, slumping a little in his chair as his cock sprang up, almost whacking her in the face. She moved back, looking at the throbbing, column of meat. He could have swore it was much smaller than that before, but he didn’t care about that now. Now he just needed something done about the beading tip.
“C’mon, maid! Gotta clean off your Master’s rod, right?” He smirked, gripping it by the base and gently smacking it against her cheek playfully.
She gave a little giggle at his feet, turning her head to press a long lick tot he side of his shaft. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her work, taking his hand off his cock to instead wrap her own around it. He felt his mind slowly starting quell in it’s buzzing, her lips pressed to the tip in a playful kiss before she took him into her soft, warm mouth in one fell swoop.
Casey went rigid, a gasp pulled from his chest as he felt his eyes roll. Still, he couldn’t help but watch her work, his muscles growing steadily more defined as that tan crept in along his abdomen. He flexed as she gargled on his cock, his eye moving from her bobbing head to his abs. They molded into an eight pack before his very eyes, the swirls of pale skin fading from sight. All of it lead a pathway to staring at her as her lips tightened around his throbbing, 11 inch cock.
“Good girl,” he managed, voice rough as he reached to grip the back of her head, his eye taking note of his large hands. Some part of him was noisily protesting this in the back of his mind, but right now, he couldn’t bother with it. His hip stammered and after only a few more moments, he gasped, release coming at last.
She choked a little on his dick, but even then she still swallowed every little drop he gave, all his memory of why he was so anxious fading into post-nut bliss.
When she pulled off of his still rock hard cock, she looked up and grinned.
“See, Master? A new… A new…”
She paused, looking confused.
“What was new again?”
He laughed, leaning back as the last remnants of his skin shifted to a dark tan, his broad muscles on his chest flexing.
“I mean this chair, right? So come on up here, maid. I think I wanna make a mess out of you again.”
The maid giggled, moving to climb in his lap.
“Yes, Master!~”