L is for Lesbian

Lesbian

(Obviously, I'm many days behind, but I figured I'd drop L on Lesbian Visibility Day!)

Layla was everything people expected when they thought of a preacher's daughter; modest, wholesome, and incredibly sheltered. The doe-eyed blonde was the Christian Conservative ideal of an All-American Good Girl. Her father touted her to his congregation as the ideal of a Woman of God, dutiful to her parents and chastely awaiting the righteous love of a Man of God.

That was what made the first step out of line so unexpected. Thanks to years of diligent studying, and despite her father's apprehension, Layla begged her way into attending college.

It was unconventional in her family, where women were expected to settle down, marry Godly men, and pump out many Christian babies. Layla promised to major in Theology and be an example for her peers; she felt a calling she could not explain to her father, but she still wanted to appease his expectations of her. Despite all her expectations, he relented because he knew his daughter had the Fear of God in her.

Layla was ready to go to college and be an example of her righteous raising. She was not expecting to meet an example of her polar opposite in her dormitory. Her roommate, Kelsey, was anything but traditional. An art chick with short, colorful hair and MULTIPLE tattoos— at eighteen!

Something about Kelsey made Layla nervous, but she was taught to be friendly and welcoming, even to people from... different walks of life. Kelsey, to her credit, was incredibly friendly. And open. Oh, so open. Layla got acquainted with the tattoos on her roommates as she spent her time walking around their room less than fully clothed.

Try as she might to ignore Kelsey, Layla found herself enthralled by the wild nature of her roommate. She started asking about her art and her interests, delving further into a secular world she was unfamiliar with.

But it was not just her interests; it was her body. It was her lack of shame. It was the way the low cut of her jeans dropped to the fullest point of the curve of her hips. Kelsey, to her credit, never said anything when she caught Layla staring. She just let her timid roommate cling to her (metaphorically) to help her break out of her shell.

They spend many nights in that first semester staying up late, talking about life and identity and shame. The shame that Layla had that Kelsey lacked, and where it came from. Each Sunday, it got harder to stomach some of the rhetoric at service and harder to justify getting out of bed early each morning.

Particularly when the bed she was rolling out of was Kelsey's bed. At first, it was something Layla justified as a comfort, but as Thanksgiving break rolled around, she was learning to accept the way Kelsey's scent lingered in her mind and her warmth left an impression on her body.

When Winter Break arrived, the preacher nearly had a heart attack when his timid blonde daughter returned home with her hair dyed pink. He preached fire and brimstone that Sunday on the Earthly temptations that lead good submissive women astray, but the fear tactics did not hit Layla the way they used to before college.

Kelsey could confirm Layla was not as submissive as everyone assumed.

In her second semester, Layla diversified her courses, opting for a Literature course where the Gospels were not required reading. Word traveled down the grapevine from her small college church to her small hometown, with Layla's father reaching out, demanding to know what was keeping his daughter from weekly services. 

He threatened to pull her out of school and lamented his mistake of leading her away from her destiny as a Godly housewife. Layla could only imagine his shock when he received her letter the next week.

Dear Daddy,

Thank you for setting me along my true path. Walking the straight line you preached, I never dared to stray out of fear. I needed to step away from your fire and brimstone to understand my path was never meant to be straight.

I won't be coming back this Summer. My girlfriend and I will be getting an apartment and I don't plan on telling you where. But rest assured, campus security has been informed that you are no longer a welcome guest here. I don't need sermons on hate and submissive boxes I belong in anymore, and that's all you've ever offered.

Farewell from your very, very gay daughter,

Layla

The newly re-registered English major slipped the envelope in the mailbox, only to feel familiar lips against her neck. She grinned and turned to admire Kelsey, dragging a suitcase behind her for their first Spring Break trip together.

"You ready to get moving on, babe?"

Layla could not help but wrap her arms around Kelsey's slender waist and pull her into a proper, passionate kiss in the middle of their dorm's courtyard. "Never been more ready."

K is for Kissable

Kissable

Kenna was accustomed to the hormonally-charged environment of an all-girls school now that
she was eighteen and in her final semester. Even the straight girls were so starved for experience and intimacy that it was common for girls to experiment with one another. 

As a certified, card-carrying queer girl, Kenna would love to have been part of the fun, but the introvert struggled to pull together the confidence to suggest a proper snogfest to any of her classmates.

Ever the dutiful goodie-two-shoes, Kenna was volunteering for the chore of cleaning up the dorm attic when she found an old oil lantern. Curious, Kenna took it in her own room and managed to light the lantern. Much to her surprise, a busty genie manifested from the flame!

"Thank you for releasing me. As a token of my gratitude, I can grant you one wish!"

"Wow, that's... wait, one? I thought it was supposed to be three?"

The genie rolled her eyes. "A bit bratty to look a gift horse in the mouth. I can only change reality so much; accept a small gift and be grateful."

Kenna sighed, but this was what she was asking for. She could not change anything big, but she could make her last year of high school and all her years of college way more enjoyable. She just needed a way to get people interested in her without Kenna having to be the initiator.

"I wish I was the best kisser in my grade, my job, or whatever groups I end up in, and everyone knows it." That was like starting a rumor without having to do any of the work!

"So your wish is... to be the most kissable person anywhere you go?"

"Yes, please!"

"Easy."

Kenna gasped as her lips started to tingle. She scrambled from her bed to the mirror on her wall to see what was happening. Her eyes went wide as she watched her thin lips fill with natural collagen. Her lower lip puffed up. Her upper lip matched, developing a perfectly defined cupid bow. She kept expecting those lips to stop, but they kept swelling until it was hard to imagine telling anyone that they were not fake.

Dumbfounded, Kenna brushed a finger along her pouty pillows. They were so sensitive that she felt the grazing touch between her legs. Even when those lips were closed, there was a little permanent keyhole open between them.

"How am I thupothed to exthplain thith?" Kenna gasped, shocked by the lisp she developed thanks to her obstructive mouth.

"You won't have to. I changed your history; your lips have been this way for years, Hot Lips!"

"But now I thound ridiculouth! How will anyone take me theriouthly in college?" She was a top-notch student, but she sounded like a total ditz! As remade memories hit her, Kenna realized her teachers always clearly judged her harshly for her "silly speech."

In fact, they thought she was a dumb bimbo because of her reputation. The reputation she asked for. They could not mark her down for it, but they gave her a hard time for being the school slut.

"You didn't ask to be taken seriously. You asked to be 'kithable,' remember?"

"But wait, thith ithn't—huh??"

The genie, tired of the ingrate's whining, had vanished into the lamp, leaving Kenna
conflicted. Is this really what she wanted? Was it worth it?

The door to the dorm room opened, and Kenna's roommate, Lila, entered. The popular, confident young woman was blushing and looking at Kenna in a way she never had before. "Hey, Kenna. I don't know if this is overstepping things as roommates, but... well, it's been a while since my boyfriend has been able to visit and..." She looked at her feet.

And Kenna realized what she was asking. Her full lips curled into an alluring smile. She moved to Lila and closed the door behind her and pulled her into a soft, sensual kiss so perfect, a moan hummed in Lila's throat.

Okay. Her teachers and professors could judge her all they liked; if that was how every girl she kissed would react, this was the best wish ever. Of all time.

H is for Hairpin

Hairpin

Haley and Isabel were the most competitive girls in their class. The two had birthdays in the same week and had competing parties. They went after the same guys. Most importantly, after four years at the same university, they were fighting to end the year as valedictorian.

Haley teased Isabel, pointing out that she was just edging her out going into Spring Break.

Something about Isabel's response was ominous. "We'll see how you like edging."

The young blonde student tried to shake off the comment and focus on her assignments.

Except it was the most annoying thing. As she focused on her word document, the fabric of her shirt brushed her nipple and it was like a switch was flipped. Try as she might to think about sentences, she just became more aware of the way her clothes were touching her. Haley was not prudish, but she considered herself low-libido.

Her body was just unexpectedly sensitive. If she could deal with this sudden swelling of need, she could focus. She slipped her fingers into her waistband, but the moment her fingertips brushed her clit, her vision went white and her eyes rolled back. The pleasure was so overwhelming, before she realized it, she had multiple fingers inside herself.

She came so easily. But that was not the end of things. There was barely any time to come down from the blissful climax before she was rubbing her thighs together, and the fabric between them was enough to get her going again.

The week of Spring Break was a blur. She masturbated, she came, she masturbated again, repeating until she passed out with fingers still in her pussy. A package came to her door on Friday; evidently, in her lusty haze, she had ordered a vibrator online. The new toy was put to immediate use, and by the time her body was too exhausted to fuck herself again, she looked at her computer and realized it was Wednesday. She had masturbated her way through three days of missed classes.

She did all she could to prepare for Thursday. finding a dress of the lightest material and connecting with someone shady online to obtain a local anesthetic. She needed her body under control to go to her classes and apologize to her professors. She would figure out a good excuse once her head started clearing out the pink sex fog clouding her mind.

Taking a seat next to Isabel, she grinned knowingly at Haley. "You're looking flushed, Haley. Are you still feeling... unwell?"

Haley's jaw dropped. Did Isabel know what was happening? Before she could ask, the professor called class into session. Haley's body felt heavy and numb, but it was better than the alternative.

Isabel furrowed her brow as minutes passed without incident, but the competitive witch finally pieced together what was happening. Flipping to a new page in her notebook, she drew a circle with an intricate design inside it. Getting up from her seat under the pretence of going to the bathroom, she tapped the glyph against Haley's shoulder and muttered, "Purify."

The numbness faded immediately. Haley's eyes went wide as the loose dress moved with her every movement and her nipples went erect and desperate for contact. Haley tried subtly cupping her own breasts, but at that point it was all over. Eventually, Haley had to be escorted out by security after refusing to stop masturbating in front of her Professor and peers, leaving a puddle of her sex in the chair she left behind.

Haley broke free from the security guards to hunt down Isabel, trying to demand answers, but by the time she found her in a washroom, her tongue was hanging out of her mouth and her body was shaking.

Isabel smirked. "Enjoying my Hairpin Charm? I was skeptical that it could put your sensitivity and libido on a hairpin trigger, but I've really made a useless slut out of you. Can you even think of anything else now?"

Haley tried to be mad, but thoughts of anger were melting into thoughts of lust. ALL her thoughts were devolving into sex. Her hand was buried in her cunt under her dress, and even her own touch felt insufficient for her inhumane need.

"You know what? Ask me for anything. I'll grant you any request in my power."

This was it. Haley could ask for the charm to be lifted so she could try to salvage her life. If she could put together that line of thought, she could be freed from life as a horny pervert.

But she was too far gone. "F-fuck me. P-p-please, fuck me!"

Isabel was so proud, pulling out a plug with a gem embedded in it and a small vibrator. "You want that? Your most bitter rival?"

"Yes!"

"But what if I only fuck you if you drop out and become my useless fucktrophy?"

Haley nodded, dripping drool from her hanging tongue and cum from between her legs. A fucktrophy was all she wanted to be. All she could see herself as now. 

Hornycunt would live a blissful life leashed in the corner of Isabel's dorm masturbating shamelessly to keep herself hot and wet for when her new owner wanted to reward herself with her conquered nemesis.

G is for Gym Bunny

 Gym Bunny

Gwen was in a new relationship and things were good. Well, okay. Okay for the most part. Harry was well-intentioned, but as a fitness nut, he had a habit of saying casually judgmental things. Since college, Gwen had put on some pudge working her sedentary office job, a trait she was painfully aware of lately thanks to Harry.

With a delicate nudge, Gwen changed into baggy gym pants after work and found a local gym to check out. Harry offered to go with her, but after a series of sarcastic comments, she decided it was best to go it alone.

Inexperienced and out of practice, Gwen found herself getting tired after challenging herself on the treadmill. She took a break at the water fountain where she made a new friend. Something about Anabel put Gwen at ease. She was gorgeous and confident, but the way she encouraged Gwen came with no judgment.

Gwen admitted that her boyfriend was being kind of an ass, and Anabel's energy shifted. The challenge of getting back into fitness and finding her own confidence was daunting for Gwen, but her new friend was adamant that she had just the thing to help.

The next day, Anabel offered Gwen a water bottle filled with her own homemade workout drink. Gwen drank the busty witch's potion and felt the effects immediately. Her muscles were tingling and warm, as though fire pervaded every fiber of her body. Gwen shivered, finding pleasure in the sudden burst of energy.

Gwen's new supplement broke down all the walls she hit in her first workout. She felt the "burn," but she was not getting tired. The more she worked out, the more natural the act of lifting, running, pushing became. At the end of the night, looking at herself in the mirror, her appearance had not changed, but she admired her body glistening with sweat, chubby tummy and all.

Each afternoon, Gwen would go in for her workout, and each night she would return home and her boyfriend would make negging comments. The difference was, as her workout routine became more consistent, her boyfriend's words came through muddled and distant. She thought nothing of it; thanks to her daily potion, tuning out negativity and judgment became second nature.

After a month, Gwen had drawers of yoga pants and compression tops and chub was already melting away into strong, firm muscle. Her arms were defined, her thighs were thick, and for the first time in her life, she had abs. Abs!

Another important change was the notable absence of Harry in her life. He made some comment about her getting too "bulky for a female," but Gwen was oblivious to most of what he said after a month of her potion inoculating her to negativity. And that was all he was; negativity under the guise of "good intentions." Casually, Gwen let him know she was done with him, and try as he might to gaslight her into changing her mind, she ignored him like the insignificant man he was.

Harry would not be missed; the other women at the gym had taken up shamelessly (but respectfully) admiring Gwen and her progress. Anabel, her wonderfully witchy new girlfriend, said it was her natural confidence shining through. Gwen agreed, but with how handy Anabel and the other gym bunnies got with her waist in the showers, she was willing to admit the abs helped.

F is for Feminine

Feminine

Felix and his girlfriend Glynda were hitting a rough patch in their relationship. They loved each other, but she was getting fed up with his antiquated hangups and opinions. Felix grew up in a conservative, repressed household with a father who ingrained the idea of what a "man" should be in Felix's head.

That toxic masculinity trained Felix to pick interests that men would like and see women as subservient and frivolous. Glynda was getting tired of Felix making patronizing comments whenever she watched a "girly" show or bought a new tarot deck. Anything he was taught to associate with women, he could not help but poke fun at.

Nevertheless, he recognized his behaviors were the problem and wanted to address them for the sake of their relationship, but he needed help. Luckily, Glynda's "silly witchy hobby" went beyond recreation, and despite his flaws, Glynda could see something worth salvaging in Felix.

As the clock struck midnight, Glynda lit candles and offered honey cakes and prayers to Artemis, beseeching her to help her significant other see through the toxic indoctrination of his past and connect with his own femininity.

With his eyes closed to the world, memories started flashing back for Felix, going back to childhood. He remembered befriending girls at Kindergarten before his father warded away protective mothers who saw through him. School friends gave him dolls, only for Felix to be scolded when returning home with the gifts. As these chains became clear in Felix's mind, it was clear they were binding a bottle.

Glynda raised a glass vial she prepared for the ritual, manifesting whatever Felix was forced to bottle up. In the glass, a warm pink flame flickered to life. The light felt familiar and comforting, but it made Felix nervous. With a gentle word of encouragement from Glynda, Felix took the vial and, in an instant, the psychic chains crumbled, letting him open the vial.

He breathed the flame in deep, but it did no harm. All it filled his with was warmth and the scent of peonies. The warmth radiated through his body as feelings and truths, buried for so long, were reclaimed.

The Goddess saw the truths and wishes of a lost sister and granted her blessing. As the soothing warmth radiated, it brought new change. Body hair faded, but strawberry blonde locks grew and curled around her shoulders. Fat and muscles redistributed themselves, padding out her thighs, hips, and ass. Her features softened and her chest swelled into prominent buds on her chest.

Gasping in a new, higher pitch, Felicia opened her eyes and looked at her body, draped in clothes a bit too big for her new frame. She finally looked up at Glynda, who was beaming proudly.

Glynda's significant other broke from the toxicity the patriarchy forced on her, reconnected with her repressed femininity, and as her truest self, they could retry their relationship on a healthier foundation.

After she took Felicia shopping for a new wardrobe, of course.

Spoiler to Spoiled Pet

TW: Drugs/Injections, Over-Stimulation

Some heroines develop a reputation for being capture bait. Stephanie Brown, despite her competence and intellect, keeps finding herself caught by villains and thugs, and Barbara Gordon finally understands why—and what she can do to give the younger Batgirl a release from her troubles.