It was a large house, almost a mansion. 4-5,000 feet. Jon’s mouth watered. It was the McMillian house. Jon bit back a moan. His lips felt different. He ran a finger over his lips and wondered at their plumpness and sensitivity. He examined his finger and noticed something had smudged. Shit! His makeup. Wait, he didn't put on makeup this morning.
Perhaps Jon should have panicked, but he didn’t. It all felt natural as he stretched his hand out in front of him. Black nail polish. He looked down and gasped in a high-pitched voice. His tits had swelled to DD cups, and his school outfit had been replaced with a black and white maid outfit complete with thigh-high fishnets, high heels, white frills, and a duster. His skin was lighter with occasional freckles, and his shoulder-length brown hair was now a shiner black and had lost an inch.
He knew that he was now someone else, a different older woman in her early 20s who still shared a distinct likeness with his previous female form. He ran a long-nailed hand down his thigh and shivered in pleasure. Jon turned away from the house, but the rest of the neighborhood was gone. He had no choice but to enter the mansion.
Jon… minced or swayed to the door on his clicky black heels. He had never walked like this before, but it felt so right and so sexy. Another gush of warmth in his nethers had his fat bottom lip trembling to hold back a moan. He reached for the door handle and watched as it swung open before him without her touch. He stepped inside and tried to tug the minuscule skirt over his even larger ass to no avail. He bit his lip unconsciously and seductively as he climbed the stairs to the top floor, following the delectable scent that had brought him here. He stopped at a hallway mirror and adjusted his uniform to ensure maximum ass, thigh, and cleavage. He shouldn’t be acting like this. Like a floozy, but he was so hungry, and he needed his meal.
He came to the door, and the smell became almost overwhelming. His slender fingers slipped into his black lace thong and gave his pussy a few cursory passes and nearly collapsed in progress. His goal was beyond the door.
He opened the door with the feather duster in his other hand. It was a large room filled with pinks and whites. There was a vanity, an attached bathroom, and a walk-in closet. In the middle, a girl slept in a four-poster canopy bed. Instead of approaching the girl, he busied himself dusting and cleaning the room, careful to be as diligent as possible. He hummed loudly as he worked, as the rays of the sun made the room glow and feel too warm.
He was cleaning under a picture of Sarah McMillan at some cheerleading competition when he heard her stirring behind him. He felt a temptation pop into his head, and he followed it, turning his back to Sarah and bending at the waist, his skirt riding up to show his wide hips and round ass.
“U-uh. Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my bedroom?” Sarah demanded, still half under her covers. Jon turned slowly, tugging the uniform down subtly to ensure as much of his cleavage was visible.
“I’m Jasmine—your family's new maid. I was just cleaning your room,” Jon said with a thick and sultry accent. He took a few swaying steps towards Sarah, his tits bouncing. He smiled with his thick lips.
“We don’t have a maid. We never have,” Sarah said with a slight blush on her cheeks. Sarah had pressed herself into her headboard, as far away as she could get from Jon, without detangling from the bedsheets and possibly exposing herself.
“I was ‘ired last week. You must not ‘ave seen me. Trust me, I have worked so hard to keep this house clean, and I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”
“W-what?” Sarah asked, flustered and confused.
“It must be your messy attitude. You didn’t notice. Do you always sleep with your makeup on?” Jon asked, taking several steps closer on those high-heels the whole while his DD cups threatened to spring free from the frilly maid uniform.
“I didn’t sleep with my…” Sarah brought a hand up to her clean face. Jon closed his eyes and let out a breathy moan as another pleasurable ripple pulsed out from Jon--the magic covered Sarah’s face with runny mascara and smeared lipstick.
Sarah didn’t seem to notice as she looked down at her sheets, which now had small makeup stains.
“But I always…” Sarah started. Another pleasure pulse, and Sarah’s hair was tousled and… something else. It took everything in Jon not to let his weak knees fail him and start fingering himself right there as a small gush of arousal dripped down his thick left thigh.
“And sleeping in your cheerleading uniform. How messy. Do you know how long that will take me to iron?” Jon chastised, jiggling another step closer.
“Why am I…?” Sarah pulled down her covers to reveal a somewhat skimpier version of their high school’s cheerleading uniform.
“To finish my day's work, I need to make sure the whole house is clean, including you,” Jon said, grinning as his now longer tongue licked his sinfully sensitive lips.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Sarah started as Jon mounted the bed and kicked the heels off his fishnet-clad feet. He crawled forward, his breasts jiggling prominently with every inch. If there was a way, Jon would hold this over Sarah’s head for the rest of the time. Until then, he would extract as much pleasure from his biggest bully, sexy second by sexy second.
