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Story Comission: Bolin: Leading Lady of Republic City
🕑 Added 2020-06-27 12:00:02 +0000 UTC
Wellesaki found the big city ripe for opportunity that the older spirits couldn't understand. Sure their shrines had been abandoned more often then not, less worshiping the rocks and trees and rivers that had been their life's bread and butter for years, but it had always been like this. Rivers dried, land changed, rivers flooded and shrines laid abandoned even in the olden days. Those old spirits just couldn't get with the times, always complaining, never trying to adapt, but not him. He saw the endless nights that bled into day ripe for worship, all these disgruntled city types praying for something, money, housing, cars, light. The city was so packed, so big, so busy, just ripe for spiritual exploitation if someone could figure out how to wring that sucker dry.
He had tried a few things as a previous fire spirit, lights a good idea in theory but in practice it was far more complicated. The issue was how fast they turned to wallpaper for most people. When they went out was when people prayed, but the ever evolving city rarely had time for power outages and as the bending devices grew more ingenious, so too did blackouts and darkness grow scarce for those who could fuel his prayers. Sure a few snot nosed brats were always a bit amazed at the lights, but it seemed like small fish in the world's biggest pond, and Wellesaki wasn't about to go back to those older spirits with a horde of toddlers and invalids. No he needed something big, something beloved, something mesmerizing. And then the silver screen happened. He had almost written it off as a novelty when he went to the first few screenings , but when he saw the usage of the light, the adoring faces of the crowd, the crossover potential between screen and sound and ticket prices as a donation conduit, he knew he was about to strike gold. Cinematic gold.
First he had to understand it to become any kind of spirit, his quest to find the genius who had created this new potential worship mechanism rather short when the man's Ego was spotlit and larger than some of the outskirt townhouses. It all came from some loon named Varrick who would have been a tasty prophet for most spirits a few decades back, but for Wellesaki he would be nothing short of a nightmare. Usually a prophet was great for an upstart spirit mostly because they would send their followers to worship and the followers would spread the message, but all Varrick worshipped was himself. His heart and brain were full of ideas and mirrors and while maybe he could try and partner up with the businessman, he could tell he'd be on the next thing the second his mind wandered. No if Wellesaki wanted to congregate, he'd need to compete with this loon.
The next few weeks were research time, the nosy spirit taking full advantage of its incorporeal states to spy on the public interest. It studied children and their fantasies, teenagers and what they did to avoid school both in and out, adults on their way to work, what they did at work, how they distracted themselves in the tedium of work, menial attendants, jobless sadsacks, homeless pedestrians, chore ridden housewives, doddering old couples. Every street had a thousand pairs of eyes and every pair was looking at something. After a bit of investigation it found two main groups to split most of the populace. Kids loved drawings, especially in motion from the barrage of flip books and easy magician trick style knick knacks that parents brought home to distract their kids. Teenagers and adults were definitely not as enthused with drawings... well not for kids anyway. In fact besides all the usual stuff of having a great story, characters yada yada nothing seemed to capture the hearts of the city more than some flagrant sex appeal, the sexier the better.
It didn't matter what a sexy woman was doing, as long as she was doing something. Some broads were only hired at work as eye candy for the bosses, a dropped pencil quite the commotion when one of these dames were picking them up. While it would definitely look for some people to start making some motion pictures with cartoons, it seemed much easier and productive to get a real sex icon for the ages. But where would he find one that had experience with acting? He needed someone malleable, naive enough to fall for his easy tricks, carefree enough to go with whatever creative edits he'd need as director, someone with a built in fanbase that he could exploit while also being pure enough to only get corrupted by him instead of drugs and booze when the fame got high. But where?! He needed, he needed-
"Nuktuk, Hero of the South! This story of a pure hearted boy from the Southern Water Tribe will capture your hearts like it has the nation! See Nuktuk played by the ever lovable Bolin fight off a horde of evil landlords that are trying to buy up all of the south in this week's tale: Rent Past Due South!" Wellesaki grinned, flipping a coin to the theater barker as he stared at the nice big poster of Bolin. While the edits would have to be... more substantial than he was planning, there was no denying the star power he had garnered. Now it was time to cash in on some brats sleeping poorly tonight...
"Umm... hello, are any of you my ride home?" Bolin's voice was lost in the boom of the crowd, his first public screening after the Southern Water Tribe Civil War had ended and he always felt nervous at these things. Sure he had been a bending pro and should be used to a crowd judging you, but you could actually do stuff in the middle of a crowd. Didn't help that said sports career had ended in failure after Mako left, but he was totally one hundred percent past his insecurity... well kind of. By the time people watched his performances weeks had already passed and it was always kind of embarrassing to see himself act even if everyone else said it was fine. And a lot of people did, but still he was ready to go home and collapse onto a nice fluffy bed. The constant social action was exhausting even for him and all the smoke was starting make his head a bit dizzy after hours of being dragged around and shown off. He didn't really like the snippets but eh, it was showbusiness what could you do?
Either way it was definitely time to go now that Varrick was the main person commanding attention in the room with a new type of lens so Bolin slinked to the back, looking for his assigned chauffeur. Bolin said he'd be fine walking home by himself but Varrick insisted on having insurance, wouldn't want anything to happen to the goods.
"Bolin! Sir Bolin! Right this way sir!" He looked up and saw across the room a well dressed man in a fitted suit with his name on a placard. Relieved to have a way out he quickly made his way over, apologizing to the few people he had to slip through which was hard with his muscly build. If he had stopped to think for a second he might have wondered how he had even heard that voice when his own was being drowned out in a cacophony of chatter and jazz, but he had never been one to exactly sweat over the smaller details.
The driver quickly escorted him to a fancy, stretched out car called a limb-o or something like that. He had to ask Asami at some point since she was the car expert, but he was happy to see that it was different than the one that brought him over. Actually wasn't this a new driver too? Eh it didn't really matter, what mattered was that the inside of the car was spacious and roomy! Sure Asami could be the speed freak she was on the road, but Bolin hated being cramped up in these tin cans, besides the metal shell just constantly reminded him of his inability to metal bend. The seats were really plushy too, his toned butt bouncing energetically on the seat before the driver popped in and began talking.
"There are some refreshments in a cooler on your left sir, look under the seat."
"Thanks!" The whole event had been filled with a bunch of dry, starchy drinks which he had mostly pretended to swallow before secretly spitting out into nearby plants. Honestly now that he was old enough to drink spirits the plants were always well watered when these events were happening and to his delight the underside cooler was filled with water bended ice and a bunch of pink fizzy drinks. Wellesaki started nervous sweating from the driver's seat, realizing he hadn't brought a bottle opener, but Bolin didn't even ask for one, he just shrugged and tugged off the cap like it was no big deal.
"How do you like it sir?"
"Hmm?" Bolin was already guzzling down bottle number two, a childish smile on his face as the car started moving.
"It's awesome! It's so sugary and sweet and tasty! What is it?!"
"Oh I think some experiment of Varrick's with a process called fizzification, I don't really know I'm just the driver." That was a lie, Wellesaki had hand brewed it himself, another thing he'd swindle from Varrick before the end of the year. Yes he made sure every bottle was absurdly sweet, fizzy, and most importantly alcoholic. Now he just had to wait for the booze to kick in.
After the first five were downed, Wellesaki just started driving in circles, figuring a big guy like Bolin would require a lot more time to get drunk than the route to his place would take, though by the sixth one the low alcohol drinks were taking their toll, Bolin thankfully just terrible with liquor as he began to sway every time Wellesaki turned right, his left eye starting to droop.
"Heeeyyy thiiis's good ssstuff! Yer a, a niiiiiisssssse driver."
"Why thank you sir! Though if I could ask for a favor..." Bolin was well and truly sloshed while Wellesaki flexed some spirit power, the little side street he had turned on relatively deserted while he made sure the red light they were at would stay red as long as he needed it to.
"My uh, daughter is a really big fans of yours and it'd just mean the world to her if you could give us an autograph. Here I even put a line down where to put it." He almost tore the thing when he grabbed it, groping for a pen before the driver handed him his own.
"Thanksh budddy! An shhhhure! Alwayssss 'appy to sign for a fan. Uh... whysss there all these wordsss above it?"
"Oh I didn't have anything else to use so I had to use some office stationary, but hey I bet that makes it easy for you right?"
"Shhhure shhhhure! N-Now B, O, L, uh..."
"I." Bolin saluted him.
"YESH! I! And N! An who do I make it out t-"
"Oh and don't forget to put the date there next to it. You know to prove I didn't just buy it off someone."
"Right right..."
"Oh and sorry to be a bother but since you can't write too well right now, could you just check those boxes above the signature, they just are asking if you think my son is amazing and going to suc-"
"I thou you hadda daugh-der?" Shit.
"Oh both are big fans, the boxes are for both of them! That's why there's so many and we'd really appreciate it if you co-" Bolin waved away his worried stutters.
"No prolem pal isss done! Heh I feel nissse." The contract tumbled from his hand, poofing to smoke, the clauses starting.
Bolin felt good. No, no, Bolin felt great! His whole body was tingling, his muscles as buzzed as his mind as he moaned, the pleasant feelings making him wriggle a bit in his seat, sweat dotting his brow.
"Huh issit warm orr jus me?" It was just him his body's metabolism going haywire as spiritual energy worked its ways into the folds of his muscles, massaging the large slabs of meat into ground beef, his toned body subtly softening. It all felt intensely erotic, like he was being swarmed by fangirls all trying to feel a piece of his body. He did feel a bit embarrassed since he didn't want the nice driver to think he was a weirdo or something, so he crossed his legs to hide his erection, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt and fully unbuttoning his suit as he rolled down a window and waved cool air down his sweaty chest.
Wasn't he forgetting something? Oh right the autograph! Wait where was it?
"Uh ssssorry mish-KFF Mishter I think I laahh-CHHK-sst it." His apology was interrupted by a frog in his throat, his words trembling as he tried clearing it. After a quick hack he nudged towards the open window and spat out a lump of what he assumed was mucus, but was actually the dissolved remnants of his Adam's Apple.
"Oh no you already gave it to me don't you remember?" The last few minutes were kind of fuzzy in his mind so Bolin smiled.
"Yaaaay~!" The voice that left his mouth was unbearably cute, in fact his whole face was starting to soften to a perfect amalgamation of girl next door types. His chin collapsed with the loss of his Adam's Apple, now an adorable point, his nose a small button, his eyes fluttering awkwardly in an endearing way as they grew larger. He was adorable, like a cute teddy bear you just wanted to protect, but Wellesaki didn't need adorable, he needed sexy, and with a snap of his fingers Bolin's face subtly tweaked to what he was looking for.
"Hmm? Mmm~ Mah Mah Mah..." Bolin giggled, his lips feeling weirdly swollen and soft. He couldn't help but smack them together and feel them up as they bloated to mouth watering succulence. His "cute" button of a nose was next to be altered, upturning more and rounding off so it gave her whole face a bit more stature, her eyes slanting further while her eyelashes were extended out to curtains of perfectly mascaraed waves. More than anything his hair truly started to shine, any grease now just luster, like each strand was buffed to an unmanageable level of perfection, the ends of it all gaining subtle kinks that made it look like perfect waves around a sea of beauty, his short cut growing down to a fantastic bob cut that tickled his confused fingers as Bolin felt his swan like throat, his once muscled head support now elegantly curved and slender.
"Doezss my vois ssound weird to you? It feelz ahll bubbly and uh-"
"Oh no it sounds wonderful as always dear, I'm sure your voice is the envy of all the other actors, it always was a captivating instrument in your rise right?" Wellesaki was already working his memories, magic corrupting the past in Bolin's mind. This was a key part to the process, slowly easing away the old past into a new one, and thankfully he was not the type of guy to need much persuasion. On Bolin's part, he was confused, wondering what his voice had to do with pro bending. Well he did remember it distracting some of the male players when he'd call out, some of them thinking he was a... what again? While the past was draining from his mind, color was draining from his suit, the opened suit charcoal, then grey then white, the material bristling a bit noticeably as the entire garment started to turn fluffy. And still Bolin couldn't figure out what the driver meant, scratching his perfectly conditioned head as he decided to just ask him point blank.
"Uhh how did my voiss halp?" Now he was looking closely at his hands which he couldn't decide if they were too stubby or too dainty, tapping them against each other as the taps started to clink off each other, nails growing out and it almost looked like his nails were turning green. This wasn't right they were so dainty now and the skin felt so smoo-
"Oh of course your voice helped you! It commanded attentions I'm sure along with your athleticism, your poise, your experience coming up from the gutter, and if you don't mind me saying it, your legs especially." Well he did suppose it helped his pro bending to have strong muscu-
"Your shapely, long legs. Yes you needed all of that to help you make a name on the runway didn't you?" Yes of course he needed strong, sexy...
"Oh god..." It grew hard to focus, suddenly Bolin's arousal spiking.
His decision to cross his legs earlier was backfiring in the best way, the hard slabs of muscle in his thighs throbbing as their hard skin was tenderized. It didn't help that his black pants were starting to drain of color, the seams of both legs tearing open and recombining to form a bizarre, almost hoop-skirt like bottom, which meant his softer skin was now rubbing against his balls directly, his boxers crumbling away to leave his genitals unprotected from his changing thighs.
Yes he did love his legs, and cooed as they came into fruition, the type of gams that turned heads on the streets and in the fashion world when she was starting off, long, strong, curvy legs. All of that tenderized muscle wasn't going to be wasted, that wonderful heat filling his thighs and calves as the hard muscle turned to spongey fat, the relatively defined muscle groups mushing into thick, round cushions that began to rub against his aroused member. Bolin felt light headed, the arousal and steady burning of muscle into fat was starting to undo the drunken haze, but any soberness gained was lost in a haze of pleasure. Amazingly he was getting even taller, groaning with delight as the bones in his legs snapped and extended, the soft meat of his upper thighs swelling with every inch his knees popped out until his cock was suffocated between them.
Bolin couldn't stop rhythmically rubbing them, loving as they continued to thicken, pressure building in his hips until the bones broke, bulging outwards with a pleased squeal from the emerging model. There was still so much muscle to work with and the hardened squares of his glutes were next on the spiritual refiguring, heated moans accompanying the sudden dive of energy into his ass, the leather seating underneath his tush squeaking as his ass swelled into a ripe, succulent peach. His head was scraping against the roof of the automobile but he didn't care, pure ecstasy running through him every time the fatty lumps jiggled, which was often with his excited body bouncing up and down on the seats. But it wasn't just his thighs that brought people in to see him on the runway was it?
With his eyes closed, his body shivered, shoulders slowly melting down, muscle siphoning upwards. A lot of subtle shifting was occurring as his spine was beginning to crackle inwards, his pretty head no longer bumping the roof as he reminisced over days that never happened. Gone were practices for pro bending with Mako, his brother taking more of a protective managerial role for his younger bro- sis- sibling, long hours at the gym and tactics giving way to the flashier world of fashion, posing, strutting. Sometimes he really did feel like a pro athlete when those eight hour shoots and practice sessions were done, his legs burning after not sitting or sometimes even moving for hours at a clip.
It all came from support, those lessons ingrained in his muscles from years of practice pouring into his head. Sure it never actually happened, but his body sure wanted it to be true, his calves now pulsating as their now lanky appearance from the added inches in height buzzed at his muscle for the proper forms. Yes many a photographer had lusted after her legs, Mako stepping in multiple times when someone who he would later call a creep complimented him too much, how pretty he was, how perfect his legs were, how toned and springy his calves were. Opening his eyes, Bolin smiled, those perfect legs now a visible reality, the shrinking length of his former pants now revealing his legs up to the mid thigh area, the hemline merging with his dress shirt. The thick, dressy material was not only drained of color, but soon enough its structural integrity as well, turning sheer instead of thick, not needing to be so firm with such flexible material. Soon it was closer to silk than corduroy, his green boxers which had been absorbed into the material overrunning the pale fabric with a vibrant emerald color that slowly ran its way up the legs of his dress. It matched his nails perfectly, though with his expert manicure visible, his toes should really be showing as well.
Actually, why was he wearing flats? Thinking back he remembered how hard it had been at first to get used to heels, an airy giggle ringing musically through the car as he remembered how awkward he had been. Now he didn't feel comfortable in anything but heels or nothing at all, those long runways and fashion shoots having thoroughly reshaped them. Without thinking his still masculine feet flexed as he imagined the training, the rubber soles of his dress shoes squeaking in protest before popping into arches. Speaking of arches, his own had just exaggerated, the callous in the middle of his soles scraping away to reveal supple, smooth skin.
The cracked bend of his shoes quickly solidified, the rubber stretching and hardening while his rubber heels triangulated, the half cut ovals bunching up and sticking out as hard, five inch high heels. He couldn't stop his pleased groans as the hardening material clamped down, his mind reshaping the shoes, his shoes reshaping his feet. The bottoms opened up, revealing wriggling toes that quickly lost their stubbiness and popped out to slender dainty things. While his toenails were turning a matching green to his fingers and dress up to his hips now, his heels were being shaved down to perfect bouncy supports, the reduced width and size more than made up for with technique in the balls of his feet, gripping strength in his toes, balance in heel placement. Gasping Bolin felt giddy as if he had just relived fifteen years of fashion and fun in only a few seconds, rubbing his bare shoulders as he laughed at the memories and moaned as his cock continued to be sandwiched and stimulated, the head now visibly tenting the emerald gossamer of his dress.
So much had changed once he had started getting fame. The fashion directors had always liked him for his eager to follow orders personality and lack of an ego. Well he did have his moments of pride and stubbornness, but Mako had always helped make sure he never did anything regretful on set. But even with the public eye on the clothes he was wearing, the public's eye didn't really fall on him until puberty hit in full swing.
Strangely, Mako seemed really irritable around this time, which still made no sense to him. This was what they were waiting for wasn't it? He suddenly had so many fans, a lot of them boys who for some reason really wanted to talk to her. Some of them even wanted her phone number which was exciting cause Bolin always looooved talking, but Mako would always say no and keep them away. There were lots of things Mako had kept away after she went big, some photographers who had always given her the best hugs no longer touching her after Mako stepped in, or the first few directors that had approached her only to leave with black eyes after talking with Mako. At least he let her keep the gifts, and boy were there plenty of those!
There were so many shiny gems, necklaces, chokers, clothes! Sure Bolin had grown to love fashion, but there was a world of difference between modeling in beautiful clothes and choosing from a growing catalogue of your own designer wardrobe. Sometimes they'd gift him underwear as well, one really nice fashion director even sending her a really lacy and skimpy number that she thought looked cute, but rode up her crack and was really uncomfortable. When she had laughed about it with Mako he didn't think it was as funny as she did, but she had other things to worry about like finding a new shoot once the nice director had accidentally fallen down some stairs. He invited Bolin back every year and made sure to shake Mako's hand every time, but he never sent any other gifts. And was his nose always that crooked?
Agh why did he start thinking of those gifts? Now he wanted his bracelets or his earrings on, annoyed that Varrick said no since the crystals were too shiny and he was the only one who got to shine that bright. But maybe... Well it wasn't like he had to earthbend much once he had gotten on the runway past a few times to make a proper practice field for himself as a kid, and while metalbending had never been his strong suit, he did find another talent that fit her work to a t. And as if the heavens were listening, the buttons on her dress shirt were starting to pop off, first the bottom, then the next one up and further until the topmost one popped, making him cringe as it bounced off the tip of his dick and clinked into the pile on his lap.
It was strange how they had just randomly popped off, actually no, why did he even have a pile of buttons anyway, wasn't he wearing a tube top dress? Glancing down his former pants and dress shirt had fully merged, the whole form hugging dress a vibrant emerald, the slit down the middle of his former dress shirt not even a memory in Bolin's head, though it did look a little weird against his muscles and felt a bit too tight. But meh that was boring he had buttons to look at and look at them he did!
While he had been distracted the plastic of each dotted circle had turned to emerald, Bolin squealing excitedly as he separated the buttons into two piles, surprised to find two more large ones at his side with metal hooks in them. He wondered where these had come from, pushing aside the white mink coat he for some reason still had on despite how hot he was, feeling the crystalline structures in his hand, slowing his pulse until they almost felt like a part of his body. It was a bit harder than usual, the distraction with his erection one thing, but his body itself another, Bolin swearing he could feel his shoulders crushing in with every change to the crystals he made, sloping inwards, rounding the squares into something far more appealing for a girl. And Wa-Lah! Opening both hands revealed a single emerald earring in each, a matching set she had wrapped around the lucky metal studs since she couldn't edit those. Crystal bending was so much fun, and while some preferred diamonds which was a real pain to bend anyways, Bolin had always loved green more, grinning as he slotted the large dangly gemstones into his pierced ears. The weight felt familiar as soon as he let go, and sure enough after a few seconds it was familiar, all thoughts of making them gone from his mind. These were his favorite after all.
Wait wasn't it getting kind of late? How long had they been stuck at this red light? Normally Bolin wouldn't care too much about staying out late, but he was really just so distressingly horny that he needed to get home now! The last thing he wanted to do was upset the director who had given him such wonderful drinks by ruining his car! Or wasn't he a driver? That'd only make it worse if he ended up like one of those perverts in the Republic Digest, releasing himself in some nice person's car.
"Sh-Shouldn't we be-MMM~ g-going?" All the booze had been burnt away as his frame continued to compact, his once bulky shoulders now svelte and smooth, his toned abs softening with every pleased whimper that left his trembling lips.
"Of course! I wouldn't want my leading lady to be uncomfortable before we start shooting our newest picture now would I?"
"Huh? But I'm- Ohhh~!" Bolin moaned, a wet spot soiling the fabric, though magic quickly cleaned it up. Even though Bolin was dangerously close to bursting, there was something very wrong in that last sentence that had to be corrected. She wasn't his actress!
"Umm but Mr. Wellesaki I'm Varrick's leading lad-EEE~!" She was too distracted by another release, her balls thumping as she tried to hold back her arousal, some still leaking through as she gasped, trying to calm her breathing as she hugged her core tightly.
"Oh don't be silly, don't you remember that contract you signed? You agreed to be a part of my studio."
"Huh?!" That couldn't be right, she would never sign anything like that, Mako had told her many times to always leave the contracts to him and Varrick would have never given the okay! Her eyes widened though when she saw him reveal the autograph from earlier.
"Now if you look here-"
"You, YOU TRICKED ME!" Before she would have gotten angry, her old booming voice a surefire way to at least unnerve a person, but her high pitched squeal had all the force of a wet kitten, more betrayed than berated.
"What do you mean? You signed this in good faith and- Here why don't you read it over again, here's your copy." He tapped the sheet and suddenly one paper became three, a pink triplicate slip tearing off cleanly that he handed off fully signed and dated. Scanning it over she saw to her surprise that for a scam the rates were actually good, like really good. Wellesaki didn't actually need money past the capital to make the films and he could easily warp reality with enough spiritual power anyways, so money didn't really matter to him, though he still considered it a steal for the potential spiritual power he might earn from the almost stunning beauty in his backseat. But she wasn't going to let a lot of money sway her, wait she got her own trailer and apartment too- NO NO NO she was a loyal girl! There had to be a way out of this... And then she saw it, her welled up tears drying as she beamed at Wellesaki.
"You messed up ya dummy!"
"Huh?" She continued, confidently pointing at the bottom.
"I didn't sign this! See?! It says Bolin here, but I'm Jolin with a J! Ha I- ooh wh-what's this feeling?"
Something big was happening, she could feel it, but whatever it was was beyond her comprehension, Jolin gripping her core once more as she collapsed back in her seat and moaned. The last of her muscle was melting away, her waist clenching inwards, back popping in, spine rattling as years of hardened physique softened to bouncy flesh, her fingers dimpling the smooth curves she now possessed, the only things hard about her being her cock and suddenly her nipples. It suddenly seemed so strange to her how that mistake could even happen, how that director could mistake a B for a J, though as she stared at the signature longer she couldn't help coo at the thought of B's shape, two large circular mounds rising from a flat... Jolin's fingers let the contract flutter to her lap, her eyes still drawn to it, but she suddenly had a strong need, her fingers latching onto her nipples and squeezing as ecstasy raced through her pinkening nipples to her entire body.
As his horny little firecracker played with herself in the backseat, Wellesaki figured now was the perfect time to finish up her mental shifts.
"Don't forget why you wanted to leave that egomaniac's studio Jolin."
No she didn't did she? Yet something about his words were so compelling, a surge of softened muscle pumping her enlarged nipples out to bee sting breasts, the slight dimpling making a world of difference to how good it felt. She remembered moving into the new world of cinema, Mako originally against it, though after talking with him he relented, grumbling something about how at least he was more interested in their car than her, whatever that meant. And it had been really super duper fun... at first.
"Yes that's right, did he ever let you shine Jolin?" Now she was properly cupping swelling lumps, still small but able to fill her small hands nicely, cumming every time he said her name though the magic made sure to erase the stain and any memories of release, Jolin's need building with every spurt. She had never wanted to be a bother, always smiling through whatever few lines Varrick would give her for his movers. And it wasn't like she minded the skimpy outfits, but it started to feel demeaning, like she was only there to be eye candy. It's not like she hated eye candy either, but darn it she was top tier goods and her mountain of fan mail only grew with every mover they released! Why did she have to be the hanger on? Why did she have to be so fragile in these stories? Why was she always the damsel?!
She squealed a hot spurt of cum shooting out her cock as she aggressively groped her chest, now beginning to sag under its weight as her fingers dimpled into the supple flesh hungrily. In the corner of her vision when it wasn't being whited out by pleasure overload, she swore she could see the pen strokes of the B straightening out, The top staying the same, the left line collapsing into the curves. She didn't want to be some fragile thing her whole life! It was bad enough Mako got so overly protective of her once she hit her teens. It was like he forgot how much she liked to scrap when they were younger, her earthbending skills saving their butts more times than she could count in the streets. And sure she hadn't had much opportunity to earthbend but she was still good at it! But did Varrick appreciate that? Oh noooo~! No man wanted to see a dame who could kick their ass he said, even though he still used her for cheap labor when he needed to fake a mountain for perspective or to help change the layout of his sets. But once the cameras were rolling no bending Jolin, you're being kidnapped for the fiftieth time this year!
"AHH AHH AHH~!" Jolin was so close to cumming and she neeeeeeded it, desperately fondling her large chest, giggling as the signature's B turned to a J, a bit past her cup size, but close as she played with herself. Yes she was going to be Mr. Wellesaki's star! She was going to be the focus, with hot guys draped over her and fight scenes galore! Unlike that stupid Varrick, Wellesaki wanted her to fight, to be strong, to get her clothes torn and get messy in the mud, or rain. Really any mess was fine as long as she got wet for the camera and she had no problem with that. Oh she couldn't wait to crush a man's head between her thighs or earthbend her fictional archnemeses into submission and then she could stand tall as a badass like Mako or Korra or... KORRA?!
Through the haze of her building pleasure, the thought of Korra suddenly threw everything out of whack, her mind racing to fit her into the history of modeling and filming. No Korra wasn't into that stuff she met her as a pro bender when she, when they... Oh god something was changing her she had to get out of here, she had to find help!
Jolin fumbled with the car door handle, ignoring Wellesaki's urgent cries for her to stay as she ran out, trying to remember what she was forgetting, trying to hold onto herself. Unfortunately she only made it a few feet down the street, thinking the sidewalk would make things easier as she clacked down in heels, not noticing the vented grate ahead as her high heels slotted right into the holes, locking her in place as a low roar bellowed from below, the working crews's subway passing by. The fringes of her short dress began to joggle and sway, wind building up below as the large subterranean vehicle passed by, its rumble the last warning before a gust of freezing wind blew open her skirts and buffeted her erect dick.
"OHH~ NOO OHH~ OHH~!" Her balls were shriveling, their contents shooting out in a rush of hot spunk as she squealed, her testicles pressing tight to her crotch before slurping in. Hot waves of estrogen began pumping from her reforming genitalia, her cold cock crumpling, spewing out clearer and clearer liquids as her tip pressed inwards, trying to reach the warmth behind the base of her cock. Jolin tried to hold on, but the ecstasy was too strong, the camera so inviting, and it felt so nice to just let her skirt flutter suggestively in the wind as she came, the last of her cock shooting up her dripping wet vagina.
"Mmm what was I doing?" The orgasm was intense, expelling every last drop of her past self as a torrent of clear fluids washed away the remains of her masculinity's last hurrah. Jolin stumbled around, mind blown and trying to figure out why her feet felt glued to the ground, confused for a second until Mr Wellesaki had his arms on her shoulders, lifting her up and never letting her down until he had thoroughly freed her heels from the annoying grates. She always did this! Well at least the heels hadn't broken again, she hated losing a new pair of shoes and no matter how careful she was she always stepped in them the second she wasn't looking. Though it was nice to be held by a gentleman sometimes, though soon she'd be the one doing the carrying once production started. She couldn't wait to be a part of the glitz and glitter, the center of attention, the scantily clad ass kicker.
"Well this is your stop I believe." Jolin stared around confused for a second as he let her down, slipping back into her heels.
"It is? Oh duh how could I forget! Thanks for the new apartment Mr. Wellesaki!" She blew him a playful kiss, then bounded up the front stoop, shockingly adept at moving about in heels. And with that his plan was complete, the spirit grinning from ear to ear, his new star already sending ripples in reality as her changed existence warped everything it had touched, rewriting everything to how he needed it to be. Though hmm... well maybe not everything. It might be prudent to leave a few people untouched, after all, she might need some proper costars soon.
But that was for another time. For tonight Jolin collapsed into her queen sized bed, her spacious apartment warm and inviting as she slipped out of her dress and flopped onto her comforter naked. She played with herself a bit, surprisingly horny as she thought of some earth bender boy she couldn't place, but then she came and drifted to sleep, the boy gone and her mind full of stars as she slept, ready to shine.
END
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Story by the fucking amazing Charoset to go along with the comic that I made. He let me post this patreon reward here as well. While I doubt anyone here needs an introduction (we have been collaborating for a long time, he is the official writer of all my specials), he is one of the best tg writers out there and a great friend so here's his patreon as well. Check his work out!
https://www.patreon.com/charoset/posts
