Mrs. Finch picked up the toy gun and looked at it. Along the side of it were words in big block letters, saying SLUT GUN.
She was immediately appalled. Was this some sort of sick joke? How did something like this get into her library?
As she moved the gun around in her hands, becoming frantic over the implications of the thing, she accidentally fired it off at herself.
In barely any time at all, Mrs. Finch's entire look changed. While she remained 50-years old, her green dress shrunk down until it was a mini-dress with a plunging neckline, which showed off her adequate cleavage. The bottom of the mini-dress was so short that the bottoms of her ass cheeks could be seen. And if she bent over, one could see that she now wasn't even wearing any underwear! The pearl necklace morphed into a metal strip necklace ... the strip firmly settled in the valley of her cleavage. Her earrings became big metal loop earrings. Her glasses disappeared altogether. And her shoes turned into a pair of green 5-inch stiletto heels. The last changes to be made were her hair and make-up. Her graying hair fell out of her tight bun and went down to her shoulders, then her hair was dyed a bleach blond. And then her make-up became heavy. Heavy blush, heavy eyeliner, heavy eyeshadow, heavy lipstick, and heavy nail polish, now on her full-one-inch nails.
At first she was shocked by all of this. But then, she began to crave for something, which took her mind off of her current predicament. It took her a few moments to figure out what was wrong. And when she did, she knew what she needed.
She needed cock.
