TG STORY COMM - AVATAR: Why Don't You Bend Right? 2/3 (Patreon)
Content
"Look we just have to get out of here now okay Jolin? And I'm not your sis I'm your brother KFF." There was a slight up-tilt to the last syllable, his throat feeling slightly sore. Crap that might mess up his performance. Wait what perfor-
"Pfft C'mon you're not that boyish anymore sis! I mean sure you had everyone fooled back in the days when you had to act tough, but you're a real knockout now!" Jolin had a goofy innocence on her face, no one in the room seeming to notice as Mako's face seemed to seize up, his mind racing as more memories were squashed to fit a new mold, one that Jolin was setting up. His eyes were still amber, but with the generous application of mascara and their wide, dark slants they seemed far more mysterious and inviting, as if daring whoever looked into them to get close. Subconsciously he was pouting his lips as well, moaning as they swelled into pouty perfection, pursing as dark red lipstick, the same shade as his scarf, applied itself. It didn't take much after those changes, a few plucks there, higher cheekbones there, pierced, smaller ears and her luscious locks of raven black hair tumbling down to her midback and where once a ruggedly handsome mug had lain was now a sultry temptress, oozing danger and fun in equal measures.
As much as his face had changed, his early memories were sparking with rewrites and shifting facts. It was hard to focus with so much altering, his younger self softer in the facer and even more aggressive to make up for it. He had to be tougher than everyone, scare away enemies with just his presence. He had to be twice as strong as the other boys with his bending cause he was, h-he was...
"NNGH AHH MMPH!" His voice was cracking more, his right hand flexing as the fingers popped out, tiny flames dancing on their manicured nails while his fingerless glove crawled its way up his arm, more sleeve than glove by this point.
Mako was still vying for control, fighting against something he didn't understand. He knew some of his memories weren't right, yet it grew harder and harder to separate the edits from reality. It didn't help that Jolin's caring side kicked in as soon as he started to grunt in discomfort.
"Aww don't worry sis I know you're not used to dresses yet but they look great on you! Here, sister snuggles!" She wrapped her arms around a struggling Mako, delighted awws coming from the audience while Mako couldn't help but moan at the comfort, more memories sparking, his left arm shedding its sleeve and slenderizing to a matching petite size, his usual outfit turning him on as the fabric rubbed against his skin, softening to a finer material while shifting form. Despite how much he knew this wasn't supposed to be right, it certainly felt right, Jolin's hair rubbing with his, countless cheer up hugs running through his mind after various photo shoot fails or nervous bursts pre catwalk exhibitions. It was melding together in a pulsing ball of pleasure through his core.
Jolin still had considerable strength, not that she noticed the crunchy sounds of reformation as her tight sisterly hug crumbled the sides of his waist in to an absurdly curvy form, Jolin still shocked sometimes at just how much Mako had bloomed even if it had taken her a while... She kind of envied how thin Mako's waist was, but at least she still had the bigger boobs even if she was the little sister. Mako meanwhile was utterly entranced by his shifting clothing, his high collar popping in, the usual neck space widening down into a large floppy window as of yet unfilled, a flowing charcoal dress with gold highlights, the long side slits trailing against the ground a tad, his body still not proportioned right as his thighs joined his arms in exposure, boxers tightening to silk panties that rode up his crotch and ass something fierce. It looked utterly bizarre on him, too loose and tight at once, yet he loved it.
No none of this was right he didn't wear dresses, he never had the time to. Just cause things were good now didn't mean they'd stay like this. Jolin didn't know what it was like to be lanky and mannish, and keeping her innocent of the bad stuff around them was a big reason for Mako staying tough to everyone around. She didn't seem to get that most of the men here just saw her as a slab of meat, a sex object. She had to know what people thought of dames like... them.
"*Ohh~!" That slight concession to femininity sent the strongest surge of pleasure yet, his nipples swelling visibly from under the loose window his dress had, the loose straps dangling against them as they darkened to suggestively dark and wide nubs.
He was melting in his sister's arms, his frame shrinking down, letting the sides of his dress's cut pool on the floor even more. Something was surging to the forefront of his mind, one longer, husky moan trailing out as his chest swelled slightly, to a cups. That alien pleasure was too much for him to ignore even with the haze of Wellesaki's reality alterations hitting him full bore, the weight of all his changes hitting Mako right then.
"O-Oh my god!" When had this started? Who was doing this to him? Suddenly he remembered what happened to Pabu when he had reached Jolin, horrified as he pushed away from Jolin's hug. He had to get out of there right now and hold onto her identity. Shit HIS identity now where was the exit he had gotten turned around during the hug and there were so many faces staring at him, the feeling of being a group's object of affection sending shivers down his spine, each one contracting his spine a tad, the straight line slowly but surely kinking inwards as he kept moaning in various pitches, the soreness more like a clearing cough now in his pipes so he should be good for the performance the crowd was- Arggh she was doing it again! Wait no something there was wrong too shit where was the exit where was- And then Mako saw him.
He still wasn't used to arousal making itself known in his nipples ahead of his cock, warm tingles mixing with the chills in a dizzying concoction of lust, memories corrupting with every step he took towards her. There was a strong air of cockiness to his strut, hair slicked back, every move screaming he was hot shit. There were many girls there looking longingly at him, yet his gaze was stuck on Mako, his muscles barely contained by the tailored suit he had them stuffed inside.
"Aww did the sisters have another fight? Don't worry I know a way to save the night, though I might need a private showcase of just how high your voice can go from a laid back position." Oh shit this was bad he couldn't let him get close, his presence a magnet for Mako's emerging self, thoughts and desires he thought he'd never have in a million years threatening to break loose. He was smug, pretty, strong, checking off every box in his checklist as he shuddered, crumbling as he realized what had happened to Asam- Ayame.
"Ohhh~ Ayame..." Just saying it out loud made her want to collapse into his arms, drape herself onto him like her father's scarf was draped over her shoulders acting as a makeshift shawl. Under his lustful gaze her breasts swelled, as if they wanted to be big for him, a series of heated groans following as Ayame gripped her in his hands, his strength filling her as he brazenly groped her swelling bosom to her delight, even if she knew it was wrong.
"Don't tell me you're still self conscious about your looks. Isn't it enough to know I want you? Besides you've got enough of a pair for any guy to ogle, especially now that you're showing them off a bit." He was tenderly caressing her neck at this point, the memories rushing in whether she wanted them to or not. And she most certainly didn't want them, these ones painful not just for her masculinity, but her new self as well.
She couldn't help but remember under Ayame's influence, his overwhelming masculinity crowding the air, forcing her to lose the ability to think of herself as such when she felt so dainty now, feminine unlike her youth. She had been a late bloomer, very late, not that she minded. It helped her protect her doltish sister from creeps to look threatening and with her control over firebending enough of the handsy street urchins had lost their eyebrows enough times to get the picture. She had hoped that when Jolin had moved over to more legitimate fields the constant sexual assault attempts would die down. Just goes to show how naïveté wasn't only Jolin's strong suit.
Those creeps were even more imposing, needing more than just minor burns to not attempt anything on her sister. Eventually she had found that singing their pubic hairs was more effective and it soon became well known in the industry that messing with Jolin was a surefire ticket to a roasted weenie. And as much as she loved having to take care of her ditzy sister, Mako would be lying if she didn't have a dark pit of jealousy in her, an ugly part that slowly resented her sister as she continued to bloom and become loved by the masses. She always had to be the responsible one, Jolin not understanding how much she had given up to be her protector, staying unapproachable, growing up lanky and unappealing, not allowed to show any weakness or enjoy being a woman. Even when her breasts had finally started coming in she had bound them, wearing baggier clothing to hide her curves, knowing the second they saw her as a woman their fear in her would vanish. And then Ayame had come along.
It was during one of those dumb drinking get togethers with her old triad buddies from the streets that he had seen her, Mako getting enough liquid courage in her to sing in front of a crowd, feeling nervous, but loving the applause and wolf whistles she received. Personally she had thought she completely bombed, but whatever she had done had snagged herself quite an interest from the playboy, buying them another round before chatting her up after the show. It was the first time anyone had shown any interest in her, especially someone so dashing, her reputation crumbling under his firm touch even if he was rather brusque and upfront. It turned out she liked that kind of dominance, absorbing it as her own as talks of her future became commonplace amongst the flirting.
It seemed people really liked her voice the more he drank her into singing and as Jolin had matured some and she grew less and less needed as the muscle, she let herself be talked into a career singing for Ayame's label, though under her terms. Surprisingly, he had told her to just keep doing what she was doing for her stage presence since she seemed to be a "seductress". Mako wasn't sure what that even meant, but at some point in her maturity, her dominating vibe and sense of danger around her were enticing according to Ayame, she just had to play it up more. Thankfully, she had spent enough time with her sister to absorb the basics of strutting, posing, all of the tasks she had secretly envied and practiced at night, all done to maximize her sex appeal, her gait swinging as her outfits made sure to accent her own assets. Jolin could have her dopey puppy love stardom, to remain the girl next door forever. Mako wanted to be the queen of her domain, not just beloved by her fans, but in charge of them as well. All she needed was the confidence to feel sexy and boy did she ever when Ayame held her like this, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and fondling her every step of the way not caring who was watching.
"Guess what I'm bankrolling now? Apologies for the loss of contact by the way. You know how these contracts can go." Oh he was such a tease, but she just glared, making him break first since she wasn't going to play his game that easily.
"You're going to star alongside your sister in a new film, with music. You're going to get your own spotlight song and single and better yet this Wellesaki guy must have money up the wazoo cause he was very generous. Not like I have to save anything, but who can say no to a deal this good?" Mako's smile faded, unease rearing its ugly head once more. This was horribly wrong, yet it took almost a minute to come to the horrifying realization that she was giving in without a fight. And even that horrifying thought was being blunted as her eyes passed between her handsome partner and the gleaming microphone set in a spotlight on a stage near the back of this massive apartment.
No he could- she couldn't do this!
"A-Ayame don't you realize what's happening?! I'm not supposed to be like this and Jolin is-" He shushed her with a finger, tracing the contours of her face hypnotically while the other ran down her back, ready to claim its prize.
"I thought we were past your sister envy, besides as big as her tits are, she can't hold a candle to your ass or those legs. If we weren't out in public I'd..." As he laid out in tantalizing detail exactly the kinds of things he'd do to her later, Mako shrieked as his hand groped her flat ass, the repeated squeezes drawing out luscious fat, her body ripening under his grip. It felt so good then, a half moaned, "yessss~" in a voice that dripped with sex leaving her as he continued to feel her up, making her feel oh so very womanly as he traced her curves into existence, prying her hips apart and swelling them to delectable curves. But even the ripe peach of her ass was just the opening set to the real pleasure, her legs buzzing with ecstatic tension, overflowing her male bounds into beauty.
Every inch she had lost from her spine was more than made up for in her lengthening legs, one benefit of her early lankinessHer steps were growing more surefooted, hips wavier as memory muscle settled into her thighs. They were powerful things, strong enough to crush a man's head, or at least a cock, her own erect appendage gone unnoticed by the crowd as each step ensured her shaft would be fully rubbed at every part of her gait, crushing down as they passed, sending uncontrollable squeals as she jerked herself off by walking. It certainly helped her aura, every action oozing with sex appeal, her hips a controlled pendulum, her ass swaying out to give a glimpse of her panties, her side slits always threatening to reveal too much, only to reveal nothing at all. It felt so good to clack down without a care, her socks sliding up from her feminized feet, arching to fit the raised heel.
Climbing the three steps to the stage was equivalent to sex for her, the added vertical movement bringing her close to the edge, though the arousal was held at bay the sudden realization of what she had to do. She had to sing in front of all these people! All of these rich... beautiful people... here for her. The mic caught the moan that left her then a searing pleasure stabbing into her groin as her left testicle clenched. The dryness in her throat burnt away with it, a high, sonorous note of pleasure ringing out, a bit scratchy. How could she sing like that?! It was so amateurish, an awful first impression that surely no one would-
"Give em hell sis! You can do it! Ma! Ko! Ma! Ko!" Jolin screamed her support from the crowd, a ripple of cheer and positive enforcement washing over her, the crowd's energy ecstatic for her as she felt pressure building in her remaining testicle, cum flowing from her tip and down her thighs. being a nice, large frame to pack curves on, and pack on they did, faster than one of Varrick's factories. Her calves bulged out, stretching the curve to a wide arc as Ayame worked at her thighs, the large thigh gap between them closing fast, ecstasy swelling around her struggling cock. It really was a struggle, the act of staying hard its own form of weak protest against the changes as softness rubbed it from every side, her thick thighs now perfectly accented by the cut of her dress, revealing as much leg as she wanted if she could do her struts properly. The only thing marring their image were the pair of cheap shoes adorning their bottoms, though there wasn't much life left in them, the black rubber already hardening, splotches of red the same shade as her scarf popping up over the black.
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Story from my friend charo - www.patreon.com/charoset