From Bully Bert... to Busty Becky

Bert loved running a strip club. It was easy money and all the ass a man could ever want. A smart guy could just sit back, watch the girls bump-and-grind, and get rich.

Sure, sometimes one of the new girls would get mouthy, bitching about how they did all the work but Bert kept all the profits. But whenever that happened Bert would just give her a scare, maybe slap her around a little, and after that the girl understood how things worked at Bert's Place.

Life was good for Bert, until Jessica showed up. She was this little weirdo chick who said she was studying to be a witch or some shit. Bert knew she'd be trouble, but she had a cute face and a crazy rack and he decided to take a chance on her.

Big mistake. Jessica wouldn't shut up about how Bert was exploiting them, and soon she was getting all the girls worked up so they were actually threatening to strike.

So one night at the end of Jessica's shift, Bert led her into his office, locked the door and roughed her up a little. Just some bruises, no broken bones or anything, and this time he didn't try any of the funny stuff. He just wanted to scare Jessica mostly, not mess her up so she couldn't work tomorrow.

The next day when he got to the club, Bert found a box of his favorite cigars with a note from Jessica. It said, "A little something for you, so we'll get along better..."

That made Bert smile. He'd figured Jessica was gonna be a real pain in the ass, but it seemed like that chick had already learned her place. She wasn't as tough as Bert had figured.

Bert sat back at his desk, lit up a cigar and took a puff, savoring the rich flavor. There was something sweet mixed up in it, something flowery that gave him a funny tingle all over.

Suddenly he seemed to shrivel in his suit, the shoulders hanging loose in the air for a moment before they crumpled down onto him. His shirt felt baggy too, but then it suddenly became painfully tight as two huge round things exploded out from his chest, like somebody had just inflated a pair of basketballs under his clothes. Something red, soft and wriggly fell down around his face, like a big bucket of ginger hair had been dumped over his head. He reached up to touch it and found that he now had tiny, pale hands like a girl, with glossy red nails an inch long.

Now Busty Becky dances at the club, six nights a week. The boss keeps most of Becky's earnings, but Becky never complains. She knows how things works at Jessica's Place.


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