An Unequal Share

In a Los Angeles mansion, expensively and tastefully furnished, there was a small, infrequently used room. The room contained a bed, a toilet and sink, and a light. It had no windows. It more resembled a cell than anything a wealthy person might want to own.

On the bed lay a man. He was short, less than five feet tall, and weak looking. His arms and legs were like twigs, his stomach sunken. Though his skin was unweathered and smooth, he bore the curious face of an old man on a young body. His hair was dark and unkempt, thinning severely. He woke and sat up, feet dangling off the modest mattress.

He scratched idly at his chest under the loose t-shirt he was wearing and went to the heavy, windowless door. He tried to pull it, but it didn't budge. It wouldn't push either. At the sink he splashed some water on his face, and returned to the bed. He waited in silence.

Hours later, the noise of a lock unfastening came from the door, and on powered hinges it opened. A woman's voice came from a speaker outside, a voice he recognised but could not place: "It's time to come out again, Freddie."

He wandered tentatively out of the small room and into a corridor. The corridor led to a large open space, a living area with comfortable sofas, rugs, and art adorning the walls. As he stepped out of the corridor he heard the door to his room close and lock.

"Go to the shower, Freddie," said the voice in the speaker. Nodding, he stumbled up the stairs and into the bathroom, stripped and stripped into the shower. He stared blankly at the taps for a moment, then turned one. A stream of warm water flowed over him,  flattening his stringy hair, running down his narrow chest, dripping from the end of his small penis. He used a bar of soap to get clean, before rinsing off. He had to check the taps again to remember how to shut off the water. Everything was complicated to Freddie.

He put on a bathrobe which was much too big, and went out into the upstairs hallway. On the wall was a large photograph of a woman. She was glamorous and beautiful, with exaggerated facial features and extraordinarily large breasts. Each one was larger than her head, and jutted out round and far in front of her.

"She's so beautiful," said Freddie. He recognised her from somewhere, but wasn't sure how. Entering a bedroom, he perched on the edge of a bed and picked up a magazine from the table nearby. On the cover was the woman from the photo in the hall, but this time she was sitting on a desk in a very fancy looking office. The incredible size of her breasts, clad in a tailored patterned dress, was clear. Freddie struggled with the writing on the cover - reading was difficult for him.

"Vog-ew. Vogue? Fox Monroe, on top of the world with porn's first megastar."

He looked through the magazine and found more pictures of the woman. She was magnetic and so, so familiar to Freddie. In one she lay on her back on a bed, firm tits forming an impossible cleavage.

Freddie felt his small cock harden, a curious and unfamiliar feeling. His head throbbed agonisingly for a moment, and when the pain cleared he realised that the picture in the magazine was of the very room he was in. That woman had been in Freddie's house!

No... no, that wasn't it. 

Freddie was in that woman's house. It was her voice coming through the speakers, her picture on the wall. Why was he here? Freddie started to panic, breathing heavily and feeling his heart pound. His stomach clenched and he began to tremble. Something was very wrong.

His head spun as his body became covered in sweat. He fought for breath. Between his legs, his small, untouched erection spurted a line of thin, watery cum into the towelling of his robe. 

"Waaaauggggg!" Freddie let out a cry of agony as the bones in his legs began to stretch, pulling apart and rejoining. If he'd been able to stand he'd have gained eight inches of height in about ten seconds. This still left him at under five and a half feet, but was a considerable increase nonetheless. His odd, flat feet became shapely, with pretty toes. The flesh along his legs plumped up, became healthy looking, and his thighs and ass began to creep outward. 

His little balls were consumed by his body, along with the pathetic meat of his penis, the flesh between his legs tearing open to reveal a perfect vulva and vagina within him. The sensation of his pussy opening travelled along new nerves that connected these new genitals to his brain. The moment those neurons fired, new thoughts - new modes of thinking - crept into his head.

First and foremost was one thought - more of a mental statement - which declared his whole self belonged to someone else. He shook with terror at the betrayal of his body and mind, and knelt on the floor gripping his head as parts of his brain switched back on, crowding out his simple thoughts and indistinct memories.

He went to cry out for help, but when he opened his mouth no sound came out. He tried again, sucking in air to force back out as a scream. Still nothing - not even a strangulated gasp. The third time he tried, an uncanny voice came out of his mouth, the voice of the woman he was changing into.

"Back into your corner, Freddie. Your time is over," his mouth said, in a calm and confident tone. 

All over his body, the discoloured flesh took on an even tone - pale, but healthy. He jolted and jerked on his hands and knees, grimacing in pain. He screwed up his face, but each movement of the muscles in his face realigned his features. His skull was reshaping, and as cheekbones pushed out and his weak chin was eliminated, his face settled into its new form. With a burst of activity, his cells went into overdrive. New, thick hair tumbled out of his scalp, and curled out of skin between his legs and under his arms. Boosted by the endochrinal activation, his nails grew to surprising length in just seconds.

Freddie's face, now framed by the dark chestnut hair, was unmistakably feminine. It had the confident maturity that the voice had suggested, but it wasn't quite done changing. Freddie found the control of his limbs was gone, as the woman he was becoming raised his elegant fingers to his mouth and delicately traced his lips. They began to swell, fattening and pouting. Soon the fingers were slipping between the fat cushions and into his wet mouth, and Freddie heard a satisfied "mmmmm" emanate from his throat.

A panic overtook him control ebbed away entirely. He was now only a passenger, and the woman knew that.

"It's time for the main event," the voice said with a chuckle. "Just let go, Freddie." His wet fingers left his plump lips and travelled down his body to the cleft between his legs. His legs spread wide with a gymnast's ease, shapely thighs at right angles to his body and nearly flat to the ground. His pussy was already opening in pleasure when his fingers reached it, and the stroking of his pearl-like clitoris sent waves of alien pleasure through him.

Two fingers from his other hand slipped into his vagina, and the dual sensation rocked Freddie's mind free of its last hold on the body. He felt everything, but it now breathed without him, looked at what it wanted. At what she wanted. On his chest two small breasts had grown, but as his fingers plunged in and out of his new pussy the lumps began to swell. They crept outwards, their bases taking up more space on his torso as flesh piled up. The small peaks of his nipples remained the same, but the areolae spread wide as the tits grew. The last cogent thoughts in Freddie's consciousness were panic as his breasts became huge and rounded. He could feel himself smiling in delight, his body cresting to an orgasm as his hands worked on his pussy, the tits standing unnaturally proud.

"Come on girls," said his mouth, "I need that final push. I need you to be fucking gigantic! Bigger and bigger! Ooooh!" Between the V of his arms reaching down between his legs, his breasts now obscured the vision of anything else. His mind disintegrated as the world's most famous breasts, the fantasy of a billion men and women, took their final shape - enormous, wide, round globes, twice the size of a head, that pressed together in a battle for space. Though they were all natural, the freshly grown cell structure held strong without sag, giving them an unnatural projection.

"F-f-fffuuuck!" Fox Monroe cried out as her pussy sprayed her orgasm over her fingers and onto the floor.

Fifteen years earlier

Freddie would come to regret everything. He regretted his ambition, his talent, his arrogance. He regretted the small and ever shrinking stature he'd been left with. He regretted that he spent less and less time as himself, and more and more as her. And he regretted, deeply, the fact that it was all his fault.

As a student of biochemistry, Freddie Monroe had been stellar. The human body spoke to him in ways it did not to his classmates, even though they were all degree holders. Freddie held an innate talent for understanding. He made a global breakthrough in the human genome when he discovered a raft of markers in the chromosomes for all kinds of attributes.

Chromosomes come in pairs. Women have two X chromosomes, and men have one X and one Y chromosome. They do different things - control of the immune response, for example, sits in the X. Freddie found the X chromosomes also carried the control for aging - basically the rate at which cells are replaced - and set about trying to cure old age. His plan was radical. He would manipulate the period which the X chromosome defined for cellular reproduction by copying the marker for aging into the Y chromosome. After a set time, the X would copy back from the Y. There was no longer a need for cells to be replaced at the same rate they were in Iron Age humans. Potentially, lifespan then could be tripled, maybe become even longer than that if the stress of producing more cells continued to reduce.

Freddie tested the theory on himself. It was via an injection, an engineered virus that would place simple instructions in his cells. Copy to X. Then add back to Y. He'd be able to compare the rate of cell replacement before and after, and if it worked he'd have won the first battle in the war against aging.

It didn't go to plan.

The virus spread through his system, attaching to his X chromosome. But instead of copying the gene he had identified into his Y chromosome, it copied the entire X and overwrote his Y completely. Combined with the accelerants in the injection, his body began to transform.

He shrank, his limbs becoming slender, and his skin smoothed out. His hands and feet became tiny. His face crunched in on itself and reformed. His nails and hair went into overdrive, lengthening as his cells went crazy. His penis receded back into his body, along with his balls as he became biologically female. Two small breasts budded on his chest.

Shaken but still himself, Freddie had spent the next day as a woman, frantically trying to understand where he had gone wrong. In the end he had to admit he'd made a mistake in the sequencing, one which he could not undo. A similar process using his Y chromosome to replace the X would, in all likelihood, kill him.

After a day, the remnants of his Y chromosome reasserted themselves, but at that point it was too late. Freddie had been set on a path that would slowly destroy his masculinity altogether. Even as he changed back he found himself smaller, weaker, and - critically - less smart than he had been.

A few weeks later Freddie changed again and made a horrifying discovery. In adding the marker from his second X chromosome back to his first, he'd also added to all the qualities encoded there. He was curvier, stronger, his intelligence returned - maybe even increased. And living in that body for a day was a thrilling experience. He was horny, he needed to feel what this form was capable of. He seduced the university's football coach effortlessly, relishing his feminine power.

The taste of the coach's big cock erased any trace of his old sexuality. Women were ruined for him now. And even when he changed back, overcome with hatred and shame for what he had done, he could no longer become aroused by women. Something inside his soul had been wrecked. The sensation of being penetrated, fucked, of seed splashing deep inside his body ruled his libido.

On top of that, he was once more weaker and dumber than before.

The transformations continued. If he had been smart enough, Freddie would have worked out that the gaps between transformations were shrinking, and the time he spent as a woman was growing. Eventually the gulf between the brainpower available in his two different forms was too great and his personality fractured. He was the meek, weak former genius Freddie Monroe, but his female side developed her own history. She was Fox Monroe, Freddie's cousin. 

Fox was everything Freddie wasn't - ambitious, attractive, smart and stylish. After twenty transformations, she was effectively a separate person, and she had a life plan: nude modelling and porn. She would get attention, money and stick it to Freddie at the same time. The weaker and more demoralised Freddie became, the easier it was too take control. She knew her body would continue to develop as she used up Freddie's strength and power, and that viewers would want to see her growing tits and ever more alluring face.

She was right. Fox became one of porn's first true megastars, a household name. All the while that Freddie was weakening steadily, Fox Monroe was the go to answer for hottest female. She went into management and then distribution; she revolutionised porn delivery, bringing it together with the streaming model by partnering with mainstream delivery.  She masterminded business deals between  porn producers and the likes of Netflix. It brought investment, talent and legitimacy to porn, and a means of delivering it with quality into people's homes.

Pornography slowly stopped being something people were secretive about, and started being just another part of the mainstream. It was a cultural revolution. Every adult had their favourite stars and the latest films and series were widely discussed. Fox was at the vanguard of a social change.

She had clothing lines, TV shows, ads, magazine covers, billboards, make up lines. Her growing breasts were a source of international fascination, and as she went from big to huge she sparked a new trend of extreme breast augmentation among women who wished to get the "Fox look".

In interviews, Fox remained tight lipped for many years about her body, not denying or confirming rumours of surgery but insisting on body positivity and supporting any methods that worked for peoples realisation of their own goals. In fact, with each transformation from Freddie to Fox, her breasts grew anew, a little larger but also a little perkier. Her lips were plumper, her ass bigger and higher.

One of the biggest mainstream TV shows of her tenth year in the business was a documentary series following Fox for a week and included a doctor's examination and x-rays which showed she was all natural. At that point, Fox was spending around fourteen days at a time as herself, and reverting to Freddie for only four days at a time. And Freddie had lost so much intelligence that he was no longer capable of understanding that he shared his body.

For the next few years, Fox coasted a little. She made three or four movies a year, did some press and TV. She was concentrating on a side project.

Freddie had to go. Completely.

Today

Fox sat down with the CCTV of Freddie's cell and her laptop, calculating the precise times of her transformation to him and back. Freddie now appeared for around 18 hours at a time, once every 52 days. This latest change confirmed the trajectory was on course, and in eight years time Freddie would never appear again. But that was too slow for Fox.

Ironically, Freddie's experiments in slowing down aging worked well. Fox did age at less than half the normal rate due to the slow replacement of her cells when in her female body. It was the changes into Freddie and back that had caused Fox to appear to age at more or less the normal rate. She was determined to stretch out her forties however, and retain her status at the top of the adult business.

For years she had been working on a new solution to her Freddie problem. Finally it was ready, an engineered virus based on her own genome that would sweep through her, eliminating every trace of her Y chromosome and ridding herself of Freddie permanently. She had, however, a problem.

The virus had to be administered when she was in Freddie mode, just before she transformed back into Fox, and he was too stupid to do it properly. Even more seriously, the virus was lethal to men, so she would need to be careful. It was the sort of thing that could end a species. She had no-one she could trust to do this for her, no-one who knew her secret. And while she had earned close to a billion dollars through her work and smart investments, she didn't want her career to be over thanks to a leak right now.

At last she had a solution. An airborne version of the vaccine, to be released into Freddie's cell right before the transformation back occurred. The room could be sealed entirely with a quick modification... And then she would never need that room again. She could turn it into a shoe closet, she mused idly. She ordered supplies online, and worked into the night to prepare. In a few short weeks, he'd be gone.

The next day, Fox headed to set. She was currently the lead on an ongoing porn soap on Amazon's adult streaming platform. It was a Dynasty-style saga with fucking included - Fox was the producer too. It was just about the biggest TV show in the world. Fox played Sheridan Court, the glamorous matriarch of the family, a bitchy schemer who fucked around with both sexes to keep her brood on top. Her part ensured she had intimate scenes with a steady stream of the hottest guys and sexiest women in adult entertainment.

The first job of the day was a promotional shoot with her co-star Allie Cole. Allie played her rival, and was another super-busty mature woman, even bigger than Fox. The difference was Allie's plastic overload. Her breasts were surgically enhanced, and Fox knew that Allie had kept going larger to stay ahead of Fox's unnatural naturals. That said, the two were on good terms and Fox always got a thrill when she saw the extreme to which Allie had gone. They slipped into matching red dresses for the photographer.

Fox squeezed her thighs together at the sight of Allie's massive tanned tits and round ass. They were promoting their big rivalry storyline, which would come to it's first head in the big scene they were shooting that afternoon. It would start with the two of them fighting and progress into a rough sex scene. Fox was excited to say the least.

As written, the scene was designed to shock. Fox's character, after having humiliated Allie's family publicly, is confronted at a party by her rival. Locked in a room together, the two have a physical confrontation that turns sexual, with Fox getting the upper hand and piling further shame on Allie. The two mega-titted women talked about it as they posed, and Fox could tell Allie wasn't best pleased about her upcoming on-camera humiliation, though they both knew this was part of a longer term storyline which would result in Fox being sent to prison at the end of the season.

Fox was a seasoned porn pro, but she was going to relish the shoot today. She'd shot a scene with Allie years before, but now they were both at the top of the profession and were much bigger and curvier than they had been. The fans were crying out for something special, and Fox was intent on giving it to them.

Despite the change in production values, porn was made like it always had been - some rough blocking and agreement about the broad content, then the director would let the performers fuck around those lines with some interjections for angles and shots.

"I'm happy with the script, but I'd like to push the content a little," said Fox to Allie and the director. "I think it could be sexy for me to really make Allie submit. How do you feel about that?"

The director nodded - she worked for Fox, after all - but Allie looked a little put out. "Would my character really do that?"

Fox smiled. "Come on, honey. At the end of the season I get sent to your family's prison and you literally piss on my face. I think I should have pushed you pretty far to make that dramatically believable."

Allie smirked. "Okay, let's try it."

"And... Action!"

Sheridan Court (Fox Monroe) surveys the Christmas party at the tech firm she owns, before sauntering into her office. The door shuts behind her and she hears it lock. She turns to see Melissa Dawson (Allie Cole) standing there.

"Do you realise what you've done to my family?" 

"Nothing they haven't done to themselves, darling," replies Sheridan with a smirk. Melissa closes the gap between with frightening quickness. She's taller than Sheridan and uses her height to intimidate her rival.

"I'm going to make sure every paper in the country knows how you whored your way through my investors, spreading evil gossip about my children, my husband. You're going to be exposed as the slut you truly are."

Sheridan swings a slap at Melissa, who catches her wrist easily. She tightens her grip, and uses her other hand to grasp the front of Sheridan's dress. She pulls, tearing it away from the giant tits of the smaller woman. They bounce with their freedom.

"How dare you," Sheridan begins, but is interrupted by a heavy slap to her breast from Melissa. She squeals in pain.

"This is an iota of what you deserve," Melissa shouts into Sheridan's face, delivering slap after slap to her tits while hanging onto her wrist. "I'm going to beat these stupid cow tits until you beg me to stop!" Sheridan's massive breasts bounce and shake.

"You're hurting me," sobs Sheridan. In response, Melissa grabs a nipple and twists it savagely, pulling the smaller woman to her. Melissa's own huge bust pushes over the top of Sheridan's, and into her rivals face.

"That's right," says Melissa, "get a load of those. The best and biggest you can buy." She shakes her big fake tits, smacking into Sheridan's face. She releases her wrist and grabs her head, forcing the brunette into her rock hard cleavage.

Sheridan struggles for a moment, then stays still. We see the sneer of arousal on Melissa's face as Sheridan's full lips press against the taut skin of her tits. She releases her grip on Sheridan's head.

Sheridan looks up, smiling at Melissa, before dropping to her knee and viciously punching Melissa in the stomach. The blonde hits the floor, clutching herself in pain. Sheridan stands over her, panting.

"You nasty, pathetic cunt," she fumes, walking over to her desk and opening a drawer. "Attacking me? You've gone too far. Now I'm going to show you what happens when you fuck with me." Sheridan roughly pushes Melissa onto her back, and before she knows it Melissa is handcuffed around the hefty leg of the desk. Sheridan tears away Melissa's top. The giant tits of the head of Dawson Labs stand up unsupported. Sheridan sits on her stomach and mauls the huge breasts with her hands, groping, squeezing, tugging the nipples, causing Melissa to moan with pleasure. She bucks and sobs, but with her hands cuffed she can't shake Sheridan off.

"Does that feel good, bitch? I know the effect this has on you," says Sheridan smugly. "You know how?" She leans close to Melissa's ear, and digging her fingers into the blonde's tit-flesh whispers, "your husband told me last month when he was licking my pussy in your bed."

Melissa lets out a howl, a mix of pleasure of humiliation. Sheridan climbs off and hoists up the blonde's legs, bending them back so Melissa's knees are by her shoulders, exposing her underwear. Sheridan grabs the flimsy panties and rips them away. Melissa's shaved pussy is already wet.

"You perverted bitch! Is this what you're into? Being tied up and groped?" Melissa blushes in shame, turning her face away. "I wonder what would happen," muses Sheridan, "if I unlocked that door and told all the people outside you were in here waiting to get fucked? Maybe I should put these panties in your mouth so you can't ask them to stop?"

"Oh god... You wouldn't dare!" 

"You think I wouldn't dare to defend myself against the woman who physically attacked me in my own office?" Sheridan raises her hand and slaps Melissa's pussy hard.

"Waaauh!"

"Shut your mouth, bitch! The only way you're getting out of here intact is by submitting to me absolutely! You're going to have to kiss my motherfucking ass," Sheridan hisses. "In fact, that's a great idea."

Sheridan stands, unfastens her ruined dress, pulls down her panties and squats over Melissa's face. Her round ass is right over Melissa's mouth.

"You're going to give my butthole a fucking good licking. It's been a while since I've had a sweet tongue fucking in the ass." Melissa blanches, but Sheridan is at least clean and attractive, despite their mutual hatred. Sheridan is legendarily ruthless, and Melissa knows that there's every chance that she will have her raped. Raped by nerds from her software firm. Or more likely, the huge security guys downstairs.

"Come on, lick my ass!" Sheridan again roughly squeezes Melissa's tits.

"Ahhhh!" Melissa does love being tied up and having her tits groped, and she feels her pussy gush with arousal. This whole encounter has teetered between fighting and fucking for the both of them. In an effort to de-escalate, Melissa lifts her head, and gives the pink ring of muscle a tentative lick. 

"Not good enough," says Sheridan, and forces her ass down onto Melissa's face, trapping her between the hefty, round globes of her buttocks. Melissa squirms, but is now too turned on to hold back. She places her pumped-up lips on Sheridan's ass and delivers a forceful, eager kiss. Her tongue probes around the rim and slips inside. Sheridan shudders with pleasure.

"That's right honey, kiss my fucking ass..." She kneads Melissa's tits with less force and more passion. Now the two women are fucking, Melissa eating Sheridan's ass while her breasts are lovingly caressed. The brunette is loving the domination of her rival, but soon stands and walks to the other side of her desk.

"Please uncuff me," says Melissa.

"No fucking way," replies Sheridan, returning from her desk with a large, pink, flexible, double-ended dildo. "I'm not letting you leave this room until you're begging me to stay." She sits between Melissa's legs and slips her own across and under those of her rival. Then, with glistening, smooth wet pussies pressed together the two women begin to scissor, their incredible breasts bouncing and shaking. Sheridan sucks the end of the dildo, then plants the other end in Melissa's gasping mouth. The over-plump, luscious lips of the two women suck and drool over the huge toy, Sheridan pushing it hard into Melissa's face. She withdraws it to let Melissa breathe, and then pushes it in again. She's soon fucking Melissa's throat, causing tears to run down her captive's face.

When Sheridan withdraws the toy, it is only to push the sloppy, saliva coated end from Melissa's mouth into her own pussy.

"Oh fuck... you really made this good and slippery for me, Melissa. Now help me out and hold the other end." Sheridan now plunges the free end into Melissa's mouth and squats over her face again, now raising herself up and down the dildo while rubbing her clit. In short order Sheridan is cumming, panting and squealing as she takes a position on all fours to finish fucking herself.  Melissa's face is now a sopping mess - a mix of tears, her own phlegm and saliva which has run down the dildo back onto her, and Sheridan's cum juice.

Sheridan pulls herself off the toy and removes it from Melissa's aching mouth. "What a mess," she chuckles, and smears the gathered liquid all over Melissa's face, distorting her make up. Smiling, she then moves her face to Melissa's tits and begins sucking on them, feeling and squeezing them as she does. 

"This huge fucking pair of tits... So round and heavy. Mmmm," sighs Sheridan, pulling on one nipple with her lips, making Melissa squirm. "I bet they're sensitive... Mine certainly are. Why don't you suck on mine too?" She moves round so that she can dangle her huge breasts in Melissa's face while continuing to suck. Hopelessly aroused, Melissa latches eagerly onto Sheridan's wide, pale nipples.

"Oh god," moans Melissa from between the colossal mounds. "You're going to make me cum just from my tits!"

Sheridan stands abruptly. "Well in that case," she says, "I'm going to stop."

"Noooo!" Melissa wails in frustration. "Please let me cum! I need it!" Sheridan moves to Melissa's cuffed hands and unfastens one, before fastening the open cuff around the desk leg. She hands Melissa the dildo.

"There you go," Sheridan says. "Make yourself cum. Do it and I'll let you go."

"Yes... Yes, oh thank you..." Melissa starts to fuck her pussy with the big toy, bucking her wide hips, banging the heel of her gripping hand into her exposed clit until she's moaning and squirting her cum over the carpeted floor of Sheridan's office. As she comes down, shuddering with pleasure, Sheridan unfastens the cuffs and puts them away.

"Very hot," says Sheridan. "I'll enjoy watching that back." She gestures to the corner of the room. "It's all on camera, darling. My own personal record of evening."

"Oh god..." Melissa sobs into her hands.

"Of course, there's plenty of people I could watch it with. Most of the people I fuck love to to have a little porn on. I don't know how to do any of the fancy editing so they'll all know it's you. And how you attacked me is, I'm sure, very clearly captured."

"I'm begging you, Sheridan... Please delete it. Please!" 

"I won't. But I will lock it away for good on a couple of conditions. First that you cut me in on the Tsing-jen deal. I'm not greedy - ten percent is enough."

Melissa nods silently.

"The second is that we meet, once a week, right here, and that you eat my pussy when we do."

"Noooo," sobs Melissa. "You're just going to have more video of me!"

"That's right," says Sheridan. "But it's going to be video of you acting and appearing how you want to. Maybe for your own sake, there's not so much physical assault next time? You on your knees between my legs is hot enough." 

"Blackmail..." mutters Melissa. "This is blackmail."

"Yes it is. It's going to be so much fun, don't you think?"

Reluctantly, Melissa nods. "Okay."

"Fantastic. No time like the present then." Sheridan wheels a chair away from the desk and spins it round, sitting with her shapely legs spread wide. "On your hands and knees, like the bitch you are."

As Melissa crawls to Sheridan and begins to lick her pussy, we see Sheridan closing her eyes in satisfaction.

Fade out.

In the days leading up to her transformation back into Freddie for the final time, Fox worked to get everything in order. A precise time to administer the gas was calculated, and in the ventilation system of the house and installed a canister with a timer. At the opportune moment it would release only into Freddie's cell-like room, and trigger the permanent change into Fox.

Fox lay on her sofa. Even after everything she'd accomplished, so much was still in front of her. She could finally contemplate marriage, children even. She'd be free of the weakling that lived within her. Her colossal tits sat heavily on her chest, straining the bra and vest top she wore, and she thought with a little relief that they would now stop growing. 

The alarm on her phone sounded. Two hours until transformation to Freddie. Eight hours with Freddie in control. Then the vapour containing her new virus would be released, the one that would destroy the remnants of masculinity in her body forever. Fox picked up a book, checked the doors were locked, and sealed herself inside Freddie's room.

The changes began soon after, as she read naked on the small bed. Shaking, her skin heated up, causing an intense sweat all over. Her breasts deflated, the flesh inside crumpling and atrophying, the skin pulling taut to her ribs. Fox's skeleton began to shift, the changing skull forcing her luscious face into an ugly, angular form. Her lips, so full and sensual, became thin and insipid as her hair came out in clumps. Her billion fans would have been horrified as she parted her thinning thighs to allow a tiny scrotum to be birthed from her famous pussy. As it settled in place her clitoris slid out, less than an inch, opening at the end as skin gathered round it, now a meager penis. Her thinning limbs and sunken chest eventually stopped writhing, and where a goddess had lay was now a weak, stupid man.

Freddie passed out on the bed and slept.

Hours later, a van pulled up outside Fox's home. Three men sat inside. The driver, tall, bald and muscular, pointed to the house beyond the large security gates.

"No movement all day. No lights on. No cable activity, nothing from the online refridgerator. I'm telling you, she's either not home or she's in a pill-induced stupor."

His first passenger, a lithe man in a vest, scratched at his chin. "And this bitch has valuables on site for certain?"

"Do you know who we're taking about?" The driver sighed in frustration. "The most famous porn star on Earth. She's not just acting either - she makes all those expensive fuck shows, right? Which means she makes money every time some horny bastard signs up to the service. She's going to have jewellery, art, maybe cash."

The third man leaned forward, lights from the dashboard reflecting in his glasses. "I've got the security details from tonight's hack. They don't even know they've been compromised yet, and won't for a couple of hours. If we're going in, it's gotta be now."

"Okay," said the first passenger. "Let's go. Worst comes to the worst, we see a giant pair of titties." The driver grinned in response and turned on the engine. The van drove to the gates, and after a couple of seconds they opened. As the van headed up the drive to the front door, the gates closed soundlessly.

Inside his room, Freddie awoke to the sound of hissing. He couldn't smell anything wrong, but when he looked up he could see a yellowish mist hanging in the upper area of the room. As the hissing continued, the volume of mist increased. Freddie suddenly found himself gasping, straining to take in enough air. His naked body began to blister and redden as every male cell was obliterated by the virus Fox had engineered.

He vomited, a natural reaction to the poison in the air. But it did no good. The virus was in his lungs and blood now. There was no escape. Freddie's failing brain slipped into unconsciousness. Anyone who could have looked at Freddie via a microscope would have seen something remarkable at this point. Though Freddie was truly dying rapidly at a cellular level, each cell that died quickly was replaced with a new one, robust and healthy. And if one could look even more closely, at Freddie's chromosomes, each new cell one would be carrying the telltale double X of a female.

Every transformation into Fox replaced Freddie's cells. By killing him at the very point the transformation began, with a virus designed to support Fox's biology, she was riding herself utterly of her weak alter ego. He would never return.

On the floor, Freddie's ruined skin healed over, pale and even, and his skeleton began to shift.

In Fox's home, the three thieves stood in a hallway. "It's a vault, or a panic room maybe," said the driver. The thin man stepped up, placing his ear against the hefty door, then at the plaster wall surrounding it. He knocked a few times, gently.

"I can get in," he said. "Whatever's inside is sealed, so we can't go through the wall... But the door itself will open. We need to dig out the hinges here and here and expose the wiring down here." The three men pulled hammers and chisels from a tool bag and began to tap where the thin man had indicated.

"You think she's in there? Fox Monroe?" The man with glasses smiled to himself. "Christ, I would love to get hold of those huge titties."

"Doubt it," said the driver. "If she were, she'd have warned us off or called the cops by now. Most likely this is jewellery or a wine collection or some shit."

The thin man nodded. "Yeah, could be a temperature controlled storage room, maybe for whiskey or vintage clothing." He trailed off, wistfully mumbling to himself, "boy, those tits, though..."

When they cracked the heavy door off its hinges and lowered it to the floor, the men wafted their hands through the yellow mist that drifted out, staring in shock at the sight of the world's biggest porn star naked and on her knees in front of them.

"Who are you idiots supposed to be?" said Fox groggily.

The driver spoke first. "Quiet bitch, and stay where you are. We just want the valuables - give us any trouble and we'll rape the fuck out of you."

"Christ, look at them," murmured the thin man, staring at Fox's huge, heavy breasts. He took a step towards Fox, trying to wave away the heavy yellow fog that hung around her. "What the fuck is this stuff?"

"Looks like you're about to find out," replied Fox, indicating the man's head. A blister formed on his cheek, and he clutched his face in pain. "Poison. It's poison to men, anyway. To think, ten more minutes and it would have dissipated all on its own. You're about to pay the price for breaking in and no-one, not even me, can save you."

Gasping as his respiratory system failed, the thin man hit the ground. The driver and the man with glasses began backing away, wanting to live but not ready to run either. The thin man took in a final, empty breath and died, his body discoloured and deflating as his corpse underwent a complete cellular collapse.

"What the fuck is going on," wailed the man with glasses in horror. The driver continued to back away, but stopped to clutch his sides in pain. Sinking to his knees, it was clear to see something different was happening to him.

Fox looked on with interest. "Yes, what the fuck is going on?"

The man with glasses was laying on the ground, sweating profusely, staring at his hands as they shrank.

Fox poked at the dead thin man with her toes. He didn't move. "Was it just the size of dose he took in? Or a blood type? Drug complications?" She chuckled. "Well boys, it looks like you get to live. The virus in that gas was supposed to differentiate between female and male cells and I used myself as the basis - looks like it carried some of my unique biology with it." Neither man could respond as they were both in the throes of their transformation.

Sitting and watching, Fox mused on the ramifications of this. There was a good chance that both would become permanent women, their Y chromosomes having been obliterated. They'd be spared the ongoing transformations after this one. She theorised that they would retain their original X chromosome, but the missing one would be replaced with Fox's - they were part her and would carry some of her characteristics. Her daughters, in a way. 

The driver, with his heavy build, was most of the way to becoming a woman when blonde hair poured out of his bald head, his nails growing as his metabolism went into overdrive. On his chest, two great fat tits swelled into life and on a newly feminine face his lips became plump.

By the time he opened his thick thighs to explore the freshly blossomed pussy between, there was no trace of the man he had been except some tattoos on his pink, girly skin.

The man with glasses had ditched his face furniture and was exploring his new features with long-nailed digits. Where his friend had a body that was curvy all over, this man had become a sultry brunette with an enormous ass.

"What... what happened to me? I don't think this is me," he said. Fox approached gently.

"It's okay," the huge-titted star said reassuringly. "Something incredible has happened. You're fine."

The new brunette lunged for the tool bag and pulled a revolver. "Don't come any closer! You've done something to me, to my brain!" She pointed it at Fox, trembling in fear. "Please... please make me normal again."

"Look at me," said Fox firmly. "Look at your friend there. We're the same! You're a beautiful woman, and you're among sisters. I'll look after you." The brunette faltered, tears welling in her eyes. Fox tried to sympathise. Likely this new girl had experienced a precipitous drop in intelligence, and the sensations from her overdeveloped new body were assaulting her mind. Gently Fox moved closer, removed the gun from her hand and hugged her. Fox's huge breasts squashed against the brunette's smaller pair, and the new girl sighed in satisfaction.

"Come with me," said Fox. She led them both to the bathroom, where they looked at their bodies and were soon giggling in delight.

"Oh my god, we're like, so hawt," said the brunette in a silly, sing-song voice.

"Yeah, look at my awesome titties," chimed in the blonde. 

"You certainly are a hot couple of bimbos. Take a couple of photos." Fox handed them her phone and they began snapping pictures of themselves in the large bathroom mirror. There was no sign of confusion or any hint that there was confusion over their new identities. In minutes they were calling themselves girls and had named themselves - the blonde was Amber and the brunette Maddison. It was quite possible that the virus had destroyed and rebuilt large portions of their brains, thought Fox.

After showering (she encouraged the girls to clean up to ensure no trace of the viral agent remained on their skin), Fox headed for the hallway and cell and swept up the dessicated remains of the third thief before depositing them in her furnace. She deployed some canisters of anti-viral agent, fogging the area. In an hour, everything there would be sterile. The only question remaining was whether the two new girls were infectious in any way. 

Returning upstairs, she found them on the bed together.

She joined them, encouraging each to suckle on one of her giant breasts. "My sweet girls," she whispered. Amber seemed entirely adjusted - it was possible that every part of her old life had been erased from her - but the brunette, Maddison, still seemed uncertain. She kept looking at herself with curiosity and a mix of sadness and confusion. Fox resolved to take care of them both, and that night they slept together in Fox's large bed.

In the morning, Fox awoke early intent on drawing blood for tests on the two new women, but Maddison was already gone.

Ten Years Later

The TYCE (Transmissable Y Chromosome Eradication) epidemic broke out into a perfect environment. In a sexually liberated world, where the biggest star on the planet was a huge breasted sex-pot, a sexually transmitted disease that was carried by hot bimbos spread unchecked. Every bimbo wanted to fuck, and nearly every man wanted to fuck them. Every man that did was transformed into a bimbo who wanted to fuck. Any attempts to quarantine in the early months failed, and the most common advice to men was to practice abstinence. Even kissing a virus carrier could pass it on. Within two years, the adult male population of the planet was halved. It was an international crisis.

In ten years, straight men were almost extinct. Families who had once hoped for male children now delighted in their daughters, for they were immune. The bimbos only birthed girls, the development of any male foetus blocked by the virus in their system. The previous heteronormative status quo was destroyed in less than a generation. Civilisation continued however, and natural born women and gay men were the only people capable of leading in business and politics. This fostered an era of peace and cooperation between nations. 

Many trans women deliberately infected themselves, sacrificing their minds on the altar of biological womanhood. Some straight men - the kind who fetishized women's bodies - and autogynephiliacs also found the prospective of a transformation into a beautiful woman irresistible. There was great interest in the new women, and several popular TV shows developed around showing the results of transformations. There were planned infections, and prizes for the hottest results. The confused women who typically resulted from the change were helped, but most often gawked at and taken advantage of.

Though the source of the virus was never identified, it was quickly understood - for many genetic diseases, this was a ready made cure provided you were male and happy to change sex. For other men with genetic problems in their X chromosome, it could be an instant death sentence. 

Fox remained famous, but the porn boom fizzled out. The bimbos didn't want high production values and non-bimbos didn't want to watch exaggerated bodies any more. They could see them on the street. She quietly withdrew, living with her own pet bimbo Amber and working secretly on a cure. While Fox wasn't infectious, Amber  certainly was, and she knew Maddison had been the typhoid Mary of TYCE. But she felt little guilt. Her cure for herself had worked. She'd never changed back into Freddie, and her breast growth had stopped at merely enormous. Her aging had slowed down.

She considered herself victorious.

The end.

Note - some story elements were suggested by my regular reader DK, and this story is dedicated to them.