Our mistress wants to be free, and you are her ticket out.You're going to have so much fun as me." Tucker giggled out loud, his voicebecoming higher through the giggle. He covered his mouth. His boxers began totighten and he looked down to see his ass swelling to Whitney's well formedsize. Tucker let out a sequence of grunts as his hips began to push out. He fellto his knees, the carpeting of his room feeling strange on his long sincehairless legs. "Fine, if you don't want to lay down, we'll do things your way."Tucker fell forward on his hands, his bones popping as his hands becamedaintier and his nails lengthened. He pushed the hair from his eyes and staredback at his body. Fat that seemed to magically form rushed its way to his torso,giving his well toned stomach a slightly fat shape. His nipples hung on moundsthat were now at least a B cup. His breasts burned as the continued to swell.His ribcage contracted making him wheeze. Tucker's insides shifted around as hisface burned. His. Brittany stepped into her walk in wardrobe and began to select the outfit she would wear that night. Several hours later Brittany was strutting down the hallway of the Hilton Hotel, her heels clicking across the marble floor, her jacket wrapped tight around her, she arrived at room 314 and opened the door, dropping her jacket to the floor as she stepped inside. Brittany was wearing a very tiny, very slutty schoolgirl outfit, her blonde hair bunched into pigtails, she was wearing thick mascara and fake eyelashes, thick, pink lip gloss that made her big lips look shiny and wet, a lil white blouse that barely covered her big, juicy tits, a tiny plaid skirt that only covered half her round, bubble butt, thigh high white stockings and white fuck-me heels. Bra and panties were of course out of the question. Bill and Mr Jones’ mouths dropped open as she strutted through the door. “You must be Mr Sharpton!” Brittany gave a cute smile, “I’m Mr Jones’ PA Brittany Stevens, and I’m here to do.
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