FemmeForgie
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Dared into Her (TG Story) - Part 8
🕑 Added 2025-09-08 02:12:00 +0000 UTCDared into Her (TG Story)
By FemmeForge
It was supposed to be a stupid late-night joke — a drunk, mean-spirited dare to humiliate the shy virgin of the group.
One ritual. A mirror. A copper bowl. A “lust offering.”
Shy, dick-starved virgin Ethan never stood a chance once his friends found that shady “summon a succubus” ritual online.
They pin him in the spotlight, ripping into him with filthy jokes about how he’d look as a woman — huge, soft tits spilling over his hands, a fat jiggling ass you could bounce coins off, and a dripping little pussy just begging for the first cock that got near it.
Ethan knew it was fake. His friends knew it was fake. That didn’t stop them from pinning him down in the filthiest way possible — teasing him, taunting him, painting vivid pictures of what he’d look like with fat tits, a perfect ass, and a dripping little pussy. They laughed, they dared, they pushed… until he said yes.
By the time it’s over, Ethan’s gone — replaced by a wide-eyed, soaking-wet slut who can barely stand without rubbing her thighs together.
Now Ethan is about to find out just how far a silly dare can go… and how hot, humiliating, and irreversible becoming the perfect fuckable plaything can really be.
Link for the PDF File: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KPNod9p6XVz3Ju4SOFdfCxtND4CZiUnx/view?usp=drive_link
Part 8
Ethan’s dainty hands trembled as they slid back, almost against his will, until his palms pressed against the obscene swell of his new backside. The instant his fingers touched the fat, springy flesh, his breath hitched.
It was warm. Too warm. And soft in a way no man’s body should ever be. His palms sank in deep, spreading the weight of his fat cheeks apart — and then, when he let go, they clapped back together with a bounce so violent it made him whimper.
“N-no… oh god, it jiggles when I—ahhhhnnnn~!” His words betrayed him, sweet and moaning:
“Mmm yesss, I love how it jiggles, slap it again~!”
He froze, horrified at his own voice, but his hands wouldn’t stop moving. His fingers dug into the doughy swell, squeezing, pulling, watching in the mirror as his own cursed body betrayed him with pornographic wobble.
Every grab made his cheeks bounce back against his palms, obscene, lewd, clapping like he was already being used. His thighs spread wider from the weight, forcing him into that humiliating swayback, his ass high and round, begging for a smack.
Ethan whimpered, nails dragging down the curve until they brushed the tender skin around his twitching hole. His whole body seized, a shocked cry spilling out:
“Nooo, not there, don’t touch me there—ahhhhnnnn~!”
The curse twisted it, moaning instead:
“Yesss, touch my hole, spank my ass, make me your bitch~!”
His face burned hotter, tears streaking down his smooth cheeks as his reflection mocked him — a sobbing, moaning girl groping her fat new ass like a slut in a porn audition. His hole clenched and twitched every time his fingers grazed too close, sending shivers through his spine.
Cass was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, pointing with cruel delight. “Ohhh my god, look at her! She’s feeling herself up like she wants it. That ass isn’t even yours anymore, Ethan — it’s ours to stare at, to grab, to fuck.”
Mason didn’t laugh. He only groaned low, his hand shifting shamelessly at the bulge in his jeans as his eyes locked on the bounce. “Holy fuck… keep touching it, princess. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Ethan shook his head violently, sobbing, but his hands wouldn’t leave his ass. He squeezed again, harder this time, and the obscene clap echoed through the room. His reflection bounced, fat and round, ass cheeks smacking together in a way that made his stomach twist with both horror and… something else.
Something warm. Something wrong.
And the curse wouldn’t let him stop feeling it.
Mason couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been shifting in his chair for minutes, one hand gripping his drink, the other hovering near his crotch like he was holding himself back. But watching Ethan grope his fat new ass, seeing it clap against his dainty hands, hearing those moans spill from lips that used to sneer at him—
It snapped him.
With a low, guttural growl, Mason lunged forward. His hands slammed down on Ethan’s swollen cheeks, spreading them wide with a greedy squeeze. The flesh poured between his fingers, hot, heavy, soft, and bouncy.
“Jesus fuck,” Mason hissed, his breath hot against Ethan’s ear. “I knew it. Built for cock. This is a pornstar ass. Made to bounce on my lap until you forget you ever had a dick.”
Ethan gasped, his whole body jerking. “No! Don’t—don’t touch me there—ahhhhnnnn~!”
But his cry cracked into a moan, twisted by the curse into:
“Yesss, grab my fat ass, make it clap for youuu~!”
Mason groaned low, grinding his palms into the doughy swell, pulling his cheeks apart just to watch them slap back together. “Ohhh, hear that? Fuckin’ music. You were nothing, man. Nothing. Now you’re a walking sex toy. And this—” he spanked hard, the smack echoing, flesh rippling in waves “—is my favorite part.”
Ethan shrieked, his back arching violently as the clap rattled through him. “Don’t spank meeehhhn! I’m not—I’m not your bitchhhhnnn!”
The curse betrayed him again, cooing instead:
“Mmmm spank me harder, I’m your bitch, I love it~!”
Mason barked a filthy laugh, squeezing handfuls of ass, kneading it like dough. “You hear that? Your own mouth knows what you are. Fat ass, fat thighs, perfect little pussy—” his hands slid lower, fingers grazing close to Ethan’s twitching hole, “—you’re a slut built to be filled.”
Cass was doubled over, wheezing through her laughter, but her eyes sparkled with dark delight. “Ohhh my god, Mason, look at her face. She’s crying and moaning at the same time. That’s not Ethan anymore. That’s a bitch in heat.”
Mason leaned closer, his teeth grazing Ethan’s ear. His voice dropped low, raunchy, filthy, hungry. “Say it. Say you love me spanking this ass. Say it, princess.”
Ethan shook his head violently, tears flying, his voice cracking high as his hole twitched again. “N-nooo, I don’t—I can’t—ahhhhnnnnn~!”
But what spilled out of his lips was broken, breathy, obscene:
“I love it, spank me again, make my fat ass clap for youuu~!”
Mason grinned, feral, and spanked him again. Harder.
The smack rang through the room, followed by Ethan’s moan. His fat cheeks bounced wildly, clapping together in time with the curse that wouldn’t let him stop sounding like a whore.
Mason’s palm came down again with a brutal SMACK, the sound bouncing off the walls like a gunshot. Ethan’s fat cheeks jiggled, rippling violently before clapping back together in a lewd wobble that made the candles flicker.
“Fuuuck me,” Mason groaned, his grin savage. He spread Ethan wide again just to watch it, then smacked him from the other side. SMACK. “That’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. You hear that, princess? That’s the sound of your ass admitting what you are.”
Ethan sobbed, his voice cracking high. “Nooo, I’m not—I’m not—!”
But the curse poured out filth instead:
“Mmmm, yes, I’m a slut, spank me harder, don’t stop~!”
Cass’s laughter rang sharp and cruel, her hand slapping against her thigh as she doubled over. “Ohhh my god! She’s begging for it like she’s auditioning for Pornhub. Ethan, you sound pathetic.”
Mason’s fingers dug deep into the doughy swell, kneading hard enough to make Ethan yelp. “Not pathetic. Perfect. You feel that? That jiggle? That bounce? That’s not a man’s ass. That’s a goddamn playground.”
He spanked again, harder, his breath ragged with lust. SMACK! Ethan’s whole body pitched forward, his fat cheeks clapping together like applause.
“N-nooo, please, not again—ahhhhnnnnn~!”
But what spilled out was pornographic:
“Yesss, spank me again, make it bounce, I love it~!”
Mason growled low, his voice dripping filth. “Fuckin’ knew it. This ass was wasted on you as a guy. But now? Now it’s perfect. Fat, round, begging for cock. Built to ride me until you scream.”
Ethan shook his head violently, tears flying, but Mason only laughed darkly and spanked him again. SMACK! His cheeks rippled in the mirror’s reflection, bouncing so hard even Ethan stared for a second in disbelief.
Cass smirked, leaning close enough for her voice to cut sharp and cruel. “Face it, Ethan. Every slap makes you moan louder. Your body doesn’t just like it—it needs it.”
Mason grinned like a wolf, raising his hand again. “Yeah. And I’m not stopping until this fat ass admits who it belongs to.”
SMACK!
Ethan’s body jolted, his moan breaking into a sob. His reflection in the mirror told the truth: a girl’s fat ass bouncing under a man’s hand, begging for more even as her face crumpled with shame.
Ethan staggered forward on trembling legs, his fat ass bouncing with every step whether he wanted it to or not. The spanking had left his cheeks red and raw, tingling, every wobble reminding him of Mason’s hands. He stumbled up to the mirror, palms pressed against the glass like he was holding himself upright on sheer will alone.
His reflection nearly knocked the breath out of him.
The mirror didn’t show Ethan anymore — not the skinny, awkward virgin who had sat on this same floor hours ago. What stared back was a curvy, trembling girl with swollen lips, lashes wet with tears, and an hourglass silhouette that bordered on pornographic. The narrow waist cinched in obscenely before spilling out into hips and thighs so thick they spread naturally. And the ass—god, the ass—bounced and quivered behind her even as she stood still, like it had a will of its own.
Ethan pressed a dainty hand against his cheek, stroking the smooth, hot skin. “This… this isn’t me,” he whispered. But the curse betrayed him, dripping filth out of his lips instead:
“This is me, I’m sooo hot, look at my ass, look at my pussy~.”
He froze, eyes wide, mouth trembling. “N-no, that’s not what I—” but the mirror showed his pouty lips moving in time with the slutty confession, mocking him with every syllable.
His eyes traced downward, horrified but transfixed. His collarbones looked delicate, almost fragile. His chest was swelling still — faint curves rising under his trembling hands. His waist looked like it belonged in lingerie ads. His thighs pressed tight and obscene against each other, thick enough to squish even when spread. And between them, his manhood was gone. In its place: bare, smooth, humiliating softness. The faint shadow of a cleft, red and raw, still twitching from the change.
He pressed his hands to the glass, trembling harder. “No… that’s not my body… it can’t be… it’s wrong…”
But the curse moaned it out of him, soft and needy:
“Mmm, it’s my body now, I love being a slutttt~.”
Cass came up behind him, smirking at his reflection over his shoulder. “Ohhh, Ethan… or should I say, princess. Look at yourself. Look at how fuckable you are. That mirror’s not lying.”
Mason loomed closer too, his grin feral, his voice rough. “Goddamn. I can see the twitch in your new slit from here. She’s practically begging to be touched.”
Ethan whimpered, clutching his own arms like he could hold himself together, his reflection betraying him with every curve and every moan. “No… this can’t be me… this can’t be real…”
But the mirror said otherwise.
Ethan’s breath fogged the mirror as he stared, wide-eyed, trembling. Every inch of his reflection screamed not him—but it also screamed hot, obscene, impossible-to-ignore. His dainty fingers shook as they slid down from his face, over his collarbones, grazing the swelling rise of his chest before they inevitably sank lower.
They hesitated at his waist, trembling on the narrow inward curve. Then, as though pulled by gravity, they dropped back to the prize Mason had just finished spanking raw.
His fat ass.
Ethan gasped when his palms sank into the obscene swell, spreading his cheeks wide and watching in the mirror as his reflection moaned like a pornstar caught on camera. His fingers shook harder, squeezing, pulling, letting them clap back together just to see the jiggle. The sound, the wobble, the weight—it was undeniable. It wasn’t a man’s ass. It was a woman’s ass. A stripper’s ass. A whore’s ass.
“No… oh god, no… this is—this is too big…” he panted, horrified. His voice betrayed him, sultry and moaning:
“It’s sooo big… perfect for bouncing on cockkk~!”
The mirror reflected a girl moaning, squeezing her own ass like she was showing it off to an audience. And Ethan’s mind stuttered.
What if… what if it wasn’t that bad?
The thought hit him like a betrayal, worse than the curse twisting his words. His stomach knotted, but his hands wouldn’t stop. He bent slightly, bouncing his fat cheeks in his palms, watching the reflection clap back with lewd, pornographic ripples. Clap, clap, clap.
He choked, eyes wet. “Fuck, is this… is this actually… hot?”
But the curse spat it out for him in filth:
“Fuuuuck, my ass is sooo hot, I wanna ride dick with it~!”
His thighs quivered, grinding together, forcing his hips into that cursed swayback posture. His swollen cheeks bounced in his grip, spreading wide enough that even he could see the twitch of his new slit in the mirror—red, raw, glistening from the heat of its birth.
He pressed trembling fingers against it, just barely grazing the soft lips, and gasped. His knees buckled. “Ohhh—fuck—what… what the fuck—?”
But his reflection moaned, “Mmm yessss, my pussy feels so gooood, I need it filled~!”
His body shuddered, ass wobbling violently in his own grip, the obscene curves mocking him from the glass. Mason’s growl came hot behind him, his breath on Ethan’s neck: “Oh, it’s hot, princess. You’re hot. And that pussy? It’s dripping for me already.”
Ethan shook his head wildly, tears spilling, but his fingers were still there—still squeezing his fat ass, still grazing his raw, twitching cleft, still watching in horror and disbelief as his reflection moaned like the slut the curse was sculpting out of him.
And in the pit of his stomach, through the shame and panic, the worst thought of all crept in.
Maybe it’s not that bad.
Ethan’s trembling hands slid up from his fat, bouncing ass and back toward his face, almost as if he thought he could wipe it away, rub the femininity out of his own skin. But the mirror mocked him. His reflection shimmered with every candle flicker, and the changes had already begun to creep higher.
It started with his jaw.
A low, muffled crrrk crawled up the line of his chin. The bone softened under his palms, blunting, then tapering, until what had once been blunt and awkward began to melt into something dainty, delicate. His chin pulled in, pointed, petite, giving his reflection a feminine heart-shape. Ethan gasped, clutching his jaw like it was dislocating—but his lips spilled a breathy moan instead.
“Mmm, make me so pretty, give me a girl’s faceee~!”
His cheeks bloomed next. The bones beneath them creaked audibly, rising high, pushing outward until they gave his reflection cruel, model-sharp planes. Flesh plumped beneath them, a soft padding that turned into a natural blush under the heat of the curse. His tears caught there, rolling down new hollows that made his face glow all the more.
Cass pressed her hand to her mouth, eyes glittering with delight. “Holy fuck… her cheekbones. Ethan, you’re getting a goddamn Instagram face.”
“Shut up!” Ethan tried to bark, but his voice cracked, sweet and breathy, and the curse cooed instead:
“Don’t shut up, tell me I’m hot, tell me I’m sooo pretty~!”
The mirror showed his lips swelling next—each heartbeat pumping them plumper, fuller, poutier. They flushed glossy-pink, trembling wetly as they thickened into cocksucker’s lips that begged to be kissed, or stuffed. Ethan’s eyes went wide, his fingers pressing against them in horror.
“N-no, not my mouth—” he stammered. But what came out was a filthy whine:
“Mmm, yesss, make my lips cock-readyyy~!”
Mason actually groaned aloud behind him, palming his own bulge. “Christ almighty. Look at those lips. That’s a pornstar’s mouth. That’s not Ethan anymore.”
Then his nose shifted—softening, shrinking, cartilage grinding as it reformed into a petite, upturned slope. His forehead smoothed, his brow softening, narrowing, becoming symmetrical, feminine.
Finally, his eyes.
The prickling heat crawled up under his brows, making his lashes lengthen, curl, fan out until every blink looked sultry, bedroom-slick. His irises glowed wet in the candlelight, huge and shimmering, framed by arches of brow hair that thinned into perfect curves. When the tears spilled down, they only made his new face look more erotic, like some girl in the throes of messy, passionate sex.
Cass let out a long, awed exhale. “…She’s gorgeous.”
Ethan froze, staring at the stranger in the mirror. His own reflection wasn’t his anymore. Not the shy, awkward guy he’d been. It was a woman—hot, curvy, delicate-faced, trembling with every moan. Her pouty lips trembled, her lashes glistened, her swan-like neck flushed with heat.
Ethan’s voice cracked in despair. “No… that’s not me… I’m not her…”
But the curse betrayed him, his pouty lips spilling sweet filth:
“Mmm, I am her… I’m sooo hot, sooo fuckable, use meee~!”
Mason leaned close, his hands gripping Ethan’s new waist. “That’s it. Say goodbye, bro. That face ain’t yours anymore. It’s mine now.”
Ethan sobbed, clutching his new delicate features with dainty fingers. But every sob came out like a moan, every word like a plea.
And the mirror only smiled back with the face of a woman who had been born to be a slut.
Ethan’s trembling fingertips dragged across his new lips again, and the heat pulsed through them like they were swelling just to humiliate him. Each heartbeat pumped them plumper, fuller, obscene. The upper lip puffed out into a delicate bow; the lower fattened until it jutted wet and pouty, shining in the candlelight like it had been glossed.
They looked cock-ready. They felt cock-ready. Even when he closed his mouth, they pressed together in a soft, pillowy pout that belonged to a girl begging to kneel.
He staggered closer to the mirror, eyes wide. His new reflection taunted him: a trembling young woman with lush, porn-star lips that practically begged to be parted. He tried to snarl, to spit out his defiance—
“I’m not—I’m still a man, I’m not—”
But the curse poured it out of his mouth as something husky and obscene:
“Mmm I’m not a man, I’m a slutty girl with cocksucker lips, I’m her nowww~!”
Ethan froze. His breath caught, his hand flying to his mouth as though he could shove the words back in. But they were already out. The mirror had already spoken them for him.
Cass cackled, clapping her hands together. “Ohhh my god. Did you hear that? She said her. She’s calling herself a girl already!”
Mason leaned in close, his voice low, rough, hungry. “Not just a girl. A hot little bitch with the fattest blowjob lips I’ve ever seen. You’re built to wrap those around my cock, princess.”
“No!” Ethan tried to cry—but it came out a moan, syrupy and sultry:
“Yesss, I want to suck cock with these lips, I’m your princessss~!”
Tears spilled hot down his cheeks, only making his new face look more erotic. He clawed at the glass, staring into the eyes of the stranger staring back. Her eyes. Her mouth. Her trembling pout.
And in his chest, the last thread of resistance snapped.
“…Her,” he whispered, his breath fogging the glass. This time the curse didn’t twist it—it let him say it. His eyes flicked down to his full lips, then up again, shame and heat warring in them. “She… she’s me.”
Cass’s smirk curled sharp. “That’s right, baby. You’re her now. Not Ethan. Not ever again. You need a new name.”
Ethan’s throat bobbed. His new lips trembled, soft and wet as they tried to form sounds. His voice, sweet and husky, poured them out before his mind could stop it:
“…I’m… Eliza.”
The name rolled off his tongue like it had always belonged there.
Cass gasped, then broke into a wicked grin. “Ohhh, that’s perfect. Look at you—look at Eliza. Hot little slut with cocksucker lips and a pornstar ass.”
Mason groaned, his hand shamelessly cupping his bulge. “Fuck… Eliza. That’s the kind of name guys scream when you’ve got them buried balls-deep.”
Eliza—Ethan no longer—sobbed into the mirror, her pouty lips quivering. “No… I don’t want… I didn’t mean…”
But her reflection smiled back, a hot, trembling girl whispering her own new name with lips that looked built for sucking cock.
Eliza’s breath came shallow and ragged, fogging the mirror as her own reflection smirked back at her—wet eyes, flushed cheeks, and lips so swollen and pouty they looked like they belonged on a porn star. Her dainty fingers rose, trembling, brushing those obscene pillows of flesh like maybe, maybe touching them would break the illusion.
The second her fingertip grazed her bottom lip, a shiver bolted down her spine. They were soft. Too soft. Plush and damp, sensitive in a way her mouth had never been. She gasped, but the sound came out breathy, sultry, slutty.
“No… I’m just… I’m just testing—”
But her reflection leaned forward, lips glistening, mouth parting around the finger that hovered there like an invitation. And before she knew it, she’d pushed it between her lips.
Sluurp.
The noise was wet, obscene, involuntary. Her lips sealed tight around her finger, pillowy and suctioning as if her body already knew how. Eliza’s eyes flew wide, her knees buckling, but she couldn’t pull away. The sound filled the room.
Mmmmh, schlup, slurp.
Her lashes fluttered, humiliation burning through her even as heat bloomed low in her belly. Her own reflection was sucking on her finger, pouting and moaning around it like a girl giving her first blowjob on camera.
Cass doubled over, laughter sharp and delighted. “Ohhh my god! She’s already practicing! Listen to her—sloppy little cock-sucker!”
Eliza yanked her finger out with a pop, but the mirror betrayed her—her lips clung to it until the last second, glossy and wet, leaving a glistening string of spit between fingertip and pout.
“N-no, I wasn’t—” she tried to say, but her curse-twisted voice whined instead:
“Mmm, I need moreee, give me a real cock to suck~!”
Mason actually groaned, rubbing himself shamelessly now, his eyes locked on her mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ… those lips sound like they were made for cock. Look at that spit. Look at that pout. Eliza, you don’t even need training—you’re cock-drunk already.”
Eliza shook her head violently, tears flinging from her lashes. “I’m not—I don’t—!” Her dainty hands betrayed her again, pushing two fingers into her mouth this time like she had to prove something.
Her reflection in the mirror moaned, lips sealing wet and tight around them. Sluurp. Sluuuck.
Her cheeks hollowed automatically, her tongue swirling without thought. She gagged on her own shame, but the sound that came out was a breathy, pornographic whimper.
Cass leaned close, her grin feral. “She’s sucking her own fingers like they’re a cock. Ethan’s gone. This is Eliza. Slutty, cock-hungry Eliza.”
The name clung to her like a brand as her own lips worked hungrily around her fingers. She tried to pull them free, but her reflection didn’t want to let go—her lips stretched wet and obscene, spit dripping down her chin.
And in the mirror, she couldn’t deny it: she looked right with something filling her mouth.
Eliza’s trembling hand slid free of her lips with a sticky pop, spit trailing from her glossy pout down to her chin. Her reflection looked ruined already — lips flushed and swollen, eyes glazed like a girl caught mid-blowjob.
She tried to speak, but the curse twisted it into a breathy coo:
“I don’t want this, I don’t wanna suck—mmm, I wanna suck cock sooo bad~!”
Mason didn’t wait. He was on her in a heartbeat, crouching beside her trembling form. His grin was wolfish, cruel, but the hunger in his eyes made it clear this wasn’t just a joke anymore. He reached out, thumb dragging across her glossy lips, smearing spit across her cheek.
“Jesus fuck, Eliza,” he growled. “You’re drooling for it. Practicing with your own fingers like a desperate whore.”
She shook her head wildly, but her lips parted anyway, her breath hot and shaky against his skin.
And Mason pushed.
Two of his fingers slid into her mouth without hesitation, pressing past those obscene lips. Her gasp turned to a gagged moan, the wet sound echoing in the room as her mouth sealed tight around him.
Schluuup. Slurrp.
Her tongue betrayed her instantly — swirling, stroking, sucking like she’d done this a hundred times. Her cheeks hollowed, her throat flexed.
Mason’s head fell back, a ragged laugh ripping out of him. “Holy shit… listen to her. That’s not practice. That’s talent. This slut was born to suck.”
Eliza’s hands shot up to his wrist, nails digging into his skin as though she could push him out — but all she did was clutch tighter, moaning around his fingers. Her reflection showed it all: pouty lips stretched wet and red, spit bubbling at the corners, lashes fluttering like she was cock-drunk already.
Cass howled with laughter from the chair, her voice wicked. “Oh my god! Look at her! She’s sucking Mason’s fingers like she’s auditioning. Ethan’s gone. That’s Eliza — cockslut Eliza.”
“Mmmnnnhhh! Nnnn—mmmphhh—!” she tried to protest, but the curse turned it into garbled, filthy whimpers. Her throat worked helplessly, gagging softly as Mason pressed his fingers deeper, brushing her tongue.
He groaned again, his cock straining in his jeans. “Fuck. If her mouth feels this good on my fingers… imagine my cock. She’s ready. She’s fucking ready.”
Eliza’s tears streamed, but even those looked like lube on her ruined new face. Every sob was muffled around his fingers, every shake of her head punctuated with another obscene slurp.
Cass leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Careful, Mason. You keep that up and she’s gonna cum just from sucking.”
And Mason smirked down at her, pressing his fingers deeper, his voice low and filthy. “That’s the plan. I wanna break her in. One hole at a time.”
To be continued...
