Only One Position Left (Patreon)

Ever since she was a child, Jessica had dreamt of being a dancer. She wanted to be up on a huge stage, strutting herself and showing her moves alongside some mega-popstar. She craved the prospect of travelling the world and meeting new people every day. She yearned for it, and yet those dreams continued to feel impossibly far away.

Now, at the age of twenty-two, she was close to finishing up her diploma at a fairly well-respected dance college in a city not too far from her humble hometown. While the establishment wasn’t exactly world renowned or anything, a number of its graduates had gone on to work with the high profile names that Jessica longed to be rubbing shoulders with, and that had given her hope for her future. Unfortunately dance college didn’t come cheap and, with her recent firing from the waitressing job she’d been working part-time at, she was beginning to get concerned. She had enough in her savings to keep renting her tiny box apartment and paying her tuition for another month, but she desperately needed a new source of income if she was going to make it to her graduation!

Jessica’s first preference was of course to find a job dancing but she’d been passed over at all of the auditions she’d attended - not a good sign for her future career, although she was trying not to fixate on that too much - so she had begun looking for alternatives. She’d waitressed at three different city hotspots and staffed in two different stores over the last year and none of those jobs had lasted longer than four months. Apparently she lacked the necessary manners and tact required for working with members of the public. As far as Jessica was concerned though, the only thing she’d ever done was stand up for herself; it wasn’t her fault that the public was full of morons and assholes!

With her savings close to running out, Jessica was finally forced to turn to her last option. The Vulpix Lounge was a ‘sensuality club’ in the upper class district of the city; in other words, it was a strip club (and sometimes, rumor had it, even a brothel) for the richest individuals in the city. It was an equal opportunity club too, employing people of all different gender identities with a range of sexual preferences. While it wasn’t as classless at working in some of the seedier clubs in the city, Jessica had been hesitant to apply for a position there out of fear that it may cost her opportunities in the future. After all, what respectable pop star would want to surround themselves with ex-strippers? It would pay the bills though and right now that was what she needed more than anything. She unfortunately wasn’t in the position where she could be picky about career choices. If she had to get by for the next few months until graduation with people tucking dollar bills into her panties on a nightly basis then so be it.

Unfortunately securing the job wasn’t quite as straightforward as Jessica had hoped it would be. She was a gorgeous young woman who had never struggled to attract the attention of men before (although keeping them around was a whole different argument) and she had the dancing talent to put any of the Vulpix Lounge’s offer employees to shame, but apparently the club manager still needed convincing. “We actually only have one opening right now and, sweetheart, I just don’t know if you’re the one for it,” they informed her, looking her up and down with narrowed eyes. “You just don’t have the right look for the position.”

“I will do anything for this job,” Jessica insisted, not willing to be turned away without even an audition. “Anything, I swear. I hate to beg but I desperately need a source of income and working here fits my skill set so perfectly! If you’ll just let me dance for you, you’ll see that I can be a serious moneymaker for your business!” There was a sense of humiliation to the scenario; Jessica couldn’t believe she was having to plead for an opportunity to audition for a strip club, high end or not. Could she possibly be any further from those dreams of worldwide success at that given moment?

The club manager fixed her with a sharp glare for several long moments before finally shrugging their shoulders and waving their hand towards the stage. “The floor is yours, sweetheart,” they relented, the edges of their thin lips curling up into a tight smile. The expression sent a chill down Jessica’s spine but she spared little time on it as she climbed up onto the stage, psyching herself up for a performance. “Let’s get the lady some music, shall we?” the club manager called out, and almost instantaneously there was a sleek shimmering melody pumping out of the club’s many speakers, accompanied by a thumping heavy bassline.

It didn’t take long for the music to begin flowing through Jessica like a river and her body responded to the rhythm like it always did, with fluid movements interjected with sharp motions. Nothing in life ever made sense to her as much as dancing did and it was so easy for her to turn off the nerves and the anxieties and let her body do all the work. She poured her heart and soul into every performance and this was no different. Indeed, given the stakes, it felt like a major opportunity, and she’d learned from a young age not to let opportunities pass by without giving it her all. Her ma and pops hadn’t raised a quitter!

The club manager watched the dancer closely, their sharp gaze tracing the curves of Jessica’s body and admiring the skill with which she was able to move. It was clear to see that the girl had talent, of that there was no doubt, but the club manager hadn’t been lying when they had told her that there was only one available position at the Lounge. Still, she had seemed mighty desperate for the income, and she had announced that she’d do absolutely anything for a payday… it was only right she get her wish granted, wasn’t it?

Jessica was so caught up in her do-or-die performance that she didn’t notice the club manager rub the tips of their thumbs together, nor the flash of silver from their eyes. Perhaps more than ever before in her life she was totally consumed by the dance and, as a result, was both totally blind to the world around her and the changes that were beginning to happen to her physical form.

The first visible alteration was the elongation of her body, as if an invisible hand had grabbed her by the head and feet and stretched her out. Her five-foot-six height crept up towards the six foot mark while she danced and eventually settled five more inches above that too. The starkness of her appearance, what with her standing at such a statuesque height for a woman, was only further heightened by the continued slenderness of her frame, although her waifish physique was soon lost to time as her muscles began to swell. Years of intense weight training in the gym settled onto her body in just thirty seconds: her shoulders widening and delts rounding, biceps rising like mountains with every subtle flex, all while the dense muscles of her quads flared with power. She had danced herself right into a shape that any competitive bodybuilder would be jealous of, but it was not to last for long.

With another wag of the club manager’s finger, an extra twenty pounds of weight formed on Jessica’s body, softening out the hard edges of her muscles and making the curves of her ass more prominent. Her perfectly admirable breasts had been resculpted into mighty pectorals that, when paired with the new width of her torso, were all but falling out of the shirt she wore. A slight turn of the club manager’s hand prompted a forest of dark hair to erupt across Jessica’s chest and spread down her arms and legs, then even up along the dancer’s smooth jawline and around her glossy lips.

Under any other circumstance it would have been impossible for Jessica to ignore the strange sensation of her privates reshaping and the sudden appearance of a thick and heavy length in her panties. She was trapped within the thrall of the music though, powerless to do anything except perform like a puppet on a string. Her mind had gone completely blank and her vision was nothing but a blur; as far as she knew, nothing else existed except the music.

As he body continued to change, Jessica’s movements became slower and less precise, and soon gave way to hypnotic thrusting and grinding rather than the expressive and fluid motions of before. Her ill-fitting clothes reformed: the shirt that had shown off so much of her cleavage became a skintight black tee that somehow made her football-sized upper arms look even larger, while her booty shorts stretched down her legs to become a pair of jeans that continued the trend of showing off her new muscular frame. Even her shoes were not immune, with the well-worn pair of vans becoming a set of heavy black boots that made a stomp with even the lightest of movements.

The club manager was now satisfied that Jessica had the body and wardrobe to fill the position they needed, but her delicate features simply wouldn’t do, and her mindset was likely to be a hindrance to her in her new position, so that would have to go too. Bringing the tips of their middle finger and thumb together, they clicked and in doing so triggered the last set of changes for the subject before them. Jessica’s round face adopted a more rectangular shape, with her jawline becoming as sharp as a knife’s edge, while her brow grew heavier and nostrils widened. The bridge of her nose was somewhat crooked, as if it had been broken before, her lips lost their perfect sheen and a scar on her upper lip added a rougher edge to the look. Her eyebrows and beard thickened while the hair in her head retreated into her scalp until she was left with a tight crew cut, bringing her physical changes to a close.

By now her dancing had regressed into simple flexing and she was quite content showing off her powerful muscles: popping her pecs, bulging her biceps and tensing her core. With each motion the threads of her mind were being rewoven, her entire history replaced by one that the club manager painted for her: a rough upbringing, flunking out of school in junior year, an amateur boxing career, and a stint in the armed forces. All that had brought her - although by this point there was absolutely no trace of femininity left in the individual on the stage - to the door of the Vulpix Lounge, where he had proven himself to be the perfect fit for the only remaining opening.

A single wave of the club manager’s hand brought the music to a stop. The hulking brute on the stage finished his posing routine and looked expectantly at his interviewer. “So, how’d I do?” he asked in a booming baritone.

“Oh, you’re the perfect fit, my dear Jensen,” the club manager crowed, standing from their cheer to give the new employee a round of applause. “With you working the door I foresee there being no trouble at all! That said, should any of our clientele decide to kick up a fuss, I’ll relish the opportunity to watch you throw them out into the street!” They looked upon the man as if he was a three-course meal. “Yes, let’s get you in the office to sign your contract now, shall we? I’ll even give you your first paycheck up front… I believe you mentioned that you were struggling to pay rent. That won’t be an issue anymore, sweetheart, I assure you. The Vulpix Lounge takes care of its employees!”

The monolith of a man stomped after the club manager and let out a dumb chuckle. “Can’t wait to get to work… boss!” he grunted, a sense of victory rushing through every inch of his powerful frame. He’d really lucked out by seeing the advertisement for a bouncer at the well-paying establishment. This was exactly the kind of job Jensen was built for and he was going to prove to the club manager that he really was the right man for the job!