------------ Preamble ------------
It's your favorite mischievous Irish goddess, here to let you in on a little secret. Nifty needs your donations to keep those steamy and sinful stories coming. But here's the kicker, if you show enough love and donate, I just might turn you into your dream woman. That's right, your wildest fantasy could become a reality. But, let's not get too excited just yet, shall we? You've got to prove you're worthy first. So, head on over to https://donate.nifty.org/ and show some appreciation. Maybe, just maybe, I'll spare you from my usual dose of chaos and give you what you truly desire. Or, I might just add a little more chaos to your life for fun. Who knows? Either way, the power is in your hands. Are you brave enough to take the plunge and claim your ultimate desire? Or are you content to live a mundane and boring existence? The clock is ticking, humans. Time to make a choice."
Any now to return you to your previously scheduled naughty story time! ----------------------------------
Metamorphosis: The Power of Words by Reluctant Writer
Chapter 5: The Concert, the Bartender, and the Goth... Girl?
Sitting before my vanity, I marvel at the vast array of makeup and skincare products that I've created for myself. My fingers glide over the luxurious metallic silver eyeshadow, gently picking up the pigment. With expert precision, I apply the eyeshadow to my captivating emerald green eyes, the shimmering silver accentuating their vibrant hue. I then reach for my bold black eyeliner and deftly draw a flawless winged line that elongates my eyes, adding an air of mystery and allure.
I dab a soft pink blush onto my cheeks, giving them a delicate, rosy glow that contrasts beautifully with my pale, freckled skin. Picking up the black lipstick, I carefully trace the contours of my full, pouty lips, creating a dramatic and edgy contrast against my porcelain complexion.
Turning my attention to my fiery red mane, I decide to change up my usual style. With a wave of my hand, my thick, curly hair transforms into a sleek, straight look, parted down the middle and tucked behind my ears. The change reveals my intricate piercings, allowing them to catch the light and draw attention. I weave a few silver chain hair accessories throughout my hair, adding a touch of cohesion and edge to my overall appearance.
Finally, I coat my nails with a metallic silver polish, the gleaming color tying together the elements of my makeup and outfit.
As I walk into my expansive closet, I ponder each piece of clothing before making my selections. The delicate pair of pale lavender lace panties catches my eye, and I slip them on, appreciating the softness of the lace against my porcelain-like skin. The alluring contrast they provide to the edgy look I'm aiming for is undeniable.
Next, I take a moment to admire the cropped black leather bustier top in my hands. The craftsmanship is exquisite, with the thin straps and silver stud accents offering the perfect combination of daring and sophistication. I carefully put on the top, adjusting the straps just right to ensure a perfect fit. As it provides ample support for "the girls," I can't help but admire how it also shows off my toned abs and the intricate tattoo and piercing that adorn my belly button.
With the top in place, I reach for the high-waisted, form-fitting black leather miniskirt. The skirt's material feels supple and luxurious in my hands, and as I step into it, I feel its soft texture molding to my petite, yet curvaceous, form. I pull the skirt up, ensuring that it sits comfortably on my hips, and then smooth it down, making certain that it emphasizes every curve to perfection. The silver zippers and chains that adorn the skirt glisten in the light, adding a provocative touch to my ensemble.
Last, I select a pair of black stiletto ankle boots with silver metallic accents. As I sit down to put them on, I carefully align each boot with my foot before sliding them on, feeling the snug fit around my ankles. I then stand up, taking a few steps to ensure the boots are comfortable and secure. The sleek and sophisticated element they add to my outfit is undeniable, while the touch of danger and attitude they provide makes me feel truly unstoppable.
As I exit the apartment (I really should do something about that), I find myself drawn to the sleek curves of my matte-green Porsche 911 convertible. The sight of the car overwhelms me and leaves me breathless, as always. I reach out and lovingly caress its smooth surface, appreciating the fine craftsmanship and the powerful engine that lies beneath.
With a graceful motion, I daintily climb into the driver's seat and reach for the button that lowers the convertible top. The wind whispers through my hair as the top retracts, and I feel a sense of freedom and exhilaration wash over me. With a confident flick of my wrist, I ignite the engine, the powerful roar resonating with the excitement building inside me.
I press the accelerator, and the car responds instantly, propelling me down the winding road at breakneck speeds. The thrill of the drive, the sharp turns and breathtaking views, makes my heart race with anticipation. I revel in my absolute control over reality as the car effortlessly glides around each bend, seemingly defying the laws of physics.
As I approach the city, I spot a lively pub, the perfect destination to unwind after my thrilling drive. I steer the Porsche towards the pub and notice a red curb, an otherwise forbidden parking spot. With a wave of my hand, the words "Reserved for Goddesses" appear on the curb, and the color shifts to a brilliant emerald green, mirroring the color of my eyes.
I park my Porsche gracefully, the engine purring as I turn it off.
As I step out of my beloved car, the cool air brushes against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. The lively sounds of laughter and conversation emanate from the pub, beckoning me closer. I take a moment to adjust my outfit, ensuring that my black leather bustier top and form-fitting mini skirt are perfectly in place.
My walk to the door of the pub is a graceful display of confidence and poise. Each step I take in my black stiletto ankle boots is deliberate, the click of my heels resounding against the pavement. My fiery red hair, straightened and adorned with silver chain accessories, sways gently with each stride, capturing the attention of those around me.
My captivating emerald green eyes scan the bustling street, taking in the sights and sounds of the city as I approach the entrance. The intricate tattoos and piercings that adorn my body seem to shimmer in the fading light, adding an air of mystique to my already alluring presence.
As I draw closer to the pub's entrance, I can feel the energy and excitement radiating from within. My heart races with anticipation, eager to experience the warmth, and doubtlessly the adventure, that awaits me inside. With a deep breath, I reach for the door handle, feeling the cool metal beneath my fingertips. With a gentle push, I step across the threshold and into the welcoming embrace of the lively pub atmosphere.
As I make my way through the lively pub, the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the air, I notice a burly, greasy-looking man at the bar. He towers over the tall black woman tending the bar, clearly giving her a hard time. His imposing figure and aggressive demeanor would be intimidating to most, but I am unfazed.
With a determined stride, I walk over to the man, my stiletto boots clicking confidently against the wooden floor. As I reach him, I stand on my tiptoes and gently tap him on the shoulder. He turns to face me, his massive frame casting a shadow over my petite figure, but I refuse to back down.
Looking up, I meet his eyes with my own captivating emerald green gaze, a sense of authority and power radiating from within me.
As our eyes meet and I smile, I effortlessly snap my fingers, invoking my divine power over reality. The air around the burly man shimmers, and a subtle vibration hums through the atmosphere. His transformation starts at his feet, the creeping change gradually making its way up his body.
His large, heavy boots shrink and reshape themselves into delicate pumps that perfectly fit the newly formed, slender feet. His muscular, hairy legs slim down, becoming smooth and feminine. The transformation continues upward, his waist narrowing and his hips expanding, giving way to an hourglass figure. His once-massive arms are slim and tone, while his hands become more delicate and graceful.
The man's greasy, unkempt hair morphs into long, lustrous locks, cascading down past his now dainty shoulders. His rough, hardened facial features soften and feminize, the coarse stubble disappearing as smooth, flawless skin takes its place. His eyes widen in shock and fear as he realizes what's happening, but the transformation is relentless, and his gaze becomes more doe-like and expressive.
His clothes shift and change as well, the grungy attire transforming into a stylish, form-fitting dress that underscores his new feminine curves. As the transformation reaches completion, his fantasy woman stands there, a vision of beauty and grace, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of disorientation and terror.
Her eyes dart around the room, a frenzied panic setting in as she tries to comprehend the impossible reality that has just unfolded before her. She clutches at her new body, her fingers trembling, as if to confirm that this is not an illusion. Her breath comes in short, rapid gasps, and her eyes well up with tears, overwhelmed by the shock of her sudden metamorphosis.
As the transformed woman stands there, disoriented and terrified, the group of men around her seems blissfully unaware of the miraculous event that has just occurred. Their attention is now focused on her alluring appearance, and they gradually close in, engaging her in conversation and pulling her into their midst. The attention of her newfound admirers quickly replaces her earlier intimidation, leaving her to navigate her new reality amidst the throng of interested men.
Having resolved the situation, I gracefully glide over to the recently vacated barstool and take a seat. The bartender, a tall black woman with a strong presence, eyes me with a hint of disapproval, perhaps displeased with the unorthodox way I handled the situation.
Ignoring her apparent discontent, I offer her a polite smile and confidently order a Glenlivet, neat. She hesitates for a moment, sizing me up, before begrudgingly grabbing a glass and pouring the amber liquid. The sound of the whiskey splashing into the glass is almost melodic, the rich aroma wafting through the air and mingling with the lively sounds of the pub.
As she slides the glass across the smooth wooden bar, I gently grasp it, my fingers curling around the cool glass. I raise the glass to my lips and take a slow, appreciative sip, the warmth of the liquid spreading through me as I savor the complex flavors. The bartender continues to watch me, her expression a mix of curiosity and wariness, as I settle in to enjoy my drink and the vibrant atmosphere of the pub.
The bartender, a tall slender black woman, stands in stark contrast to my petite, curvaceous frame and porcelain freckled skin. Her narrow hips and shoulders give her a more androgynous appearance, and her low, even voice is the polar opposite of my melodic, enchanting soprano lilt.
With a disapproving frown etched across her face, she makes her way over to me, her gaze steady and intense. She leans in slightly, making sure that her words are only for my ears, and speaks with a hint of reproach. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
Her words hang in the air between us, the subtle admonishment evident in her tone. I can sense her concern for the well-being of the transformed individual and her disapproval of my actions. However, her strong presence and genuine care for the patrons of the pub are undeniable, and despite our differences, I can't help but feel a sense of respect for her.
Flashing my most charming smile, I decide to engage the bartender in a more personal conversation. "If there were anything you could change about yourself, anything at all, what would it be?" I inquire, genuinely curious about her response.
Her frown deepens, and she regards me with a mix of skepticism and annoyance. In a clipped, firm voice, she replies, "I'm just fine with myself, thank you very much." Her answer conveys a strong sense of self-assurance and resilience, as well as a clear message that she is not interested in entertaining any whimsical changes to her being.
I can't help but admire her self-confidence and unyielding spirit, even though our interaction has been less than amicable thus far.
With a hint of mischief in my voice, I playfully challenge the bartender. "You saw what I can do. I'm a vengeful goddess. I could just turn you into a toad or something; you're not trying to piss me off, right?"
She looks at me intently, her eyes filled with determination and a touch of defiance. Unfazed by my teasing threat, she responds confidently, "What would be the point in that, and what could I really do about it, anyway?"
Her unwavering spirit and refusal to be intimidated by my divine power leave me impressed. I find myself increasingly drawn to this strong, independent woman, admiring the backbone she so clearly possesses. In a world where many would cower or attempt to appease someone with my abilities, her steadfastness is a breath of fresh air.
As I take another sip of my Glenlivet, I can't help but smile to myself, acknowledging the unexpected connection I feel with this enigmatic bartender. It's clear that she is a woman of substance and integrity, and I find myself eager to learn more about her and perhaps even form a bond based on mutual respect and admiration.
With a genuine desire to mend our rocky introduction, I extend an olive branch. "I'm sorry, maybe we can start over. My name's Niamh," I say warmly, offering my hand to the bartender.
She hesitates for a moment, then takes my hand in hers. "I'm Aria," she says, introducing herself with a touch of caution still lingering in her voice.
Aria then gestures to the man I transformed into a woman, who is now in the back of the pub, making out with a guy at a table. "Him first," she insists, clearly concerned about the consequences of my actions and the well-being of the transformed individual.
As I turn to look at the passionate scene unfolding in the dimly lit corner, I consider the impact of my divine intervention, the new woman, who until recently had been the guy harassing Aria, was madly kissing her partner, hungrily searching for his lips with her mouth like a toddler learning which objects are solid and which are made of air. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and pressed into his back as she was pulled him in deeper. I watched as he responded by running his finger along the lace hem of her dress and tracing a line down her thigh.
With a resigned sigh and an eye roll, I give in to Aria's request, snapping my fingers to reverse the transformation. The woman's form begins to change, this time from the top of her head down to the floor. Her long, lustrous locks shorten and become greasy once more, and her delicate features gradually roughen and return to their original masculine state.
As the transformation progresses, the man's body regains its imposing stature, his limbs thickening and muscles bulking up. However, the reversal is not complete; he remains squeezed into the form-fitting dress and high heels, and his long, feminine, painted nails remain untouched.
"That's all you get," I reply, showing a hint of playfulness while still asserting my authority. Aria struggles to suppress a smirk at the sight of the burly man in his ill-fitting, feminine attire. Though she maintains a level of professionalism, it's clear that she appreciates the unexpected humor in the situation.
"So, Aria...," I begin, "I have to tell you, you're the first person I've met that hasn't taken me up on changing themselves, fawned in admiration, or cringed in abject terror. What gives?"
Aria pauses her work for a moment, contemplating my question as she wipes down the bar with a damp cloth. She looks at me thoughtfully, her eyes carrying a sense of wisdom and self-assuredness.
"Well, Niamh," she begins, her low, even voice steady and sincere, "I've learned over the years that life is about accepting who you are and embracing your strengths and weaknesses. Sure, there might be things I'd like to change, but they're part of what makes me who I am. I believe in growth and self-improvement, but I don't need a magical intervention to achieve that. Besides, you never know the consequences of such changes. Some things are just meant to be, you know?"
Her response is marked by a sense of groundedness and self-acceptance that seems almost foreign in today's world. As she continues her work, the lively hum of the pub surrounding us, I can't help but reflect on her words, pondering the nature of self-improvement, acceptance, and the role of my divine powers in the lives of others.
"You know, I seem to have misplaced my moral compass somewhere recently. I'd love to get to know you better, Aria."
Aria offers me a small, understanding smile as she continues her work behind the bar. "I think we all lose our way sometimes, Niamh," she says, her voice gentle and empathetic. "It takes courage to recognize that and seek guidance from others."
She glances around the bustling pub, considering my proposition. "I'd be happy to get to know you better, too," she agrees, her eyes meeting mine with sincerity. "But as you can see, I've got my hands full here. Maybe we could meet up outside of work sometime? Grab a coffee or go for a walk? It's not often you meet someone who's willing to stand up to a goddess," she adds with a hint of humor, her smile growing warmer.
I nod in agreement, touched by her openness and willingness to share her time and wisdom. As we exchange contact information, I can't help but feel a sense of hope and anticipation for the opportunity to grow and learn from this remarkable woman. In a world full of complexity and chaos, Aria's grounding presence and unwavering self-assurance have moved me.
I offer Aria a warm smile, conveying my gratitude for our conversation and the connection we've forged. I leave a small tip on the bar rail for my drink and begin to make my way towards the bustling crowd of patrons.
As I walk away, I subtly wave my hand with a discreet flick of my wrist, a small gesture that goes unnoticed by Aria. Unbeknownst to her, I have bestowed a life-changing gift upon her. In the coming days, she will discover that she is the beneficiary of an unknown inheritance, one that will leave her wealthy beyond her wildest dreams.
Although I know that Aria values her independence and self-reliance, I feel compelled to grant her this unexpected fortune as a gesture of goodwill and friendship. I believe that someone so grounded and resilient as Aria will use her newfound wealth wisely.
With a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of my lips, I notice the man I had transformed earlier struggling to make his way outside in his ill-fitting dress and shoes. His once-intimidating demeanor is now replaced with confusion and embarrassment, making it impossible for me to resist the urge to follow him and observe the situation further.
I slip through the crowd, my petite frame and graceful movements allowing me to weave effortlessly between the boisterous patrons. As I reach the entrance, I see the man awkwardly stumble out into the cool night air, his high heels wobbling beneath his bulky frame.
I step outside, the subtle scent of rain lingering in the air as the pub door closes behind me. The man is now standing a short distance away, clearly attempting to regain his bearings and figure out how to navigate his unfamiliar attire. His efforts to maintain some semblance of dignity are both amusing and pitiable, but there's something irresistibly satisfying about watching this once-menacing figure fumble in such an unexpected predicament.
My grin widens as I lean against the wall of the pub, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply as I take in the scene before me.
I sashay over to the man with a playful smile, offering to "fix it" for him. He looks at me with a mix of relief and apprehension but ultimately agrees, not realizing the full extent of my intentions.
As I lightly touch his arm, his transformation begins anew, the changes overtaking him once more. This time, however, I have a different vision in mind--one that leans heavily into the realm of goth aesthetics.
His hair darkens and lengthens, turning into an abundance of raven-black undulations that flow down to his shoulders. Slowly his face transforms, becoming porcelain-like skin with a pale, almost ethereal quality. His eyes become a piercing, icy blue, framed by smoky, dark eyeshadow and voluminous black lashes. His lips turn a deep, bold shade of crimson, creating a striking contrast against his pale complexion.
His ill-fitting dress morphs into a form-fitting, floor-length black gown adorned with lace and silver chains, hugging his newly curvaceous figure in all the right places. The gown's neckline plunges dramatically, revealing a hint of cleavage and drawing attention to his new feminine form. The high heels morph into a pair of black platform boots, laced up to his knees and adorned with silver buckles and studs.
The man, now transformed into a striking goth woman, stands tall, her newfound confidence evident in her posture. She runs her fingers through her dark tresses, taking in her reflection in a nearby window. A mix of surprise, confusion, and reluctant admiration plays across her face as she marvels at the dramatic transformation.
"What's your name, honey?," I ask.
She looks at me, her piercing blue eyes meeting mine, and hesitantly says, "My name is... James." I tilt my head, gracefully blowing out a tight stream of smoke and chuckle softly, responding, "I think the name Raven suits you much better."
As I utter the name, reality ripples subtly, weaving its way into her new identity. Unbeknownst to her, all her identification documents have changed to match the new persona I've created for her. From this moment forward, she can't help but think of herself as Raven, her previous identity as James, becoming a distant and fading memory.
Raven seems to ponder the name for a moment, and then, with a hint of a smile, she nods in agreement. "Yes, I suppose Raven does sound better," she admits, her voice taking on a velvety, sultry quality that matches her new appearance perfectly.
As Raven runs her hands over her new body, she seems fascinated by my smoking, and I offer her a cigarette. She says "no, thank you. I don't smoke."
I smile and lean in close, whispering in her ear, "Don't knock it till you try it, Raven." With a playful wink, I light another cigarette and take a long French inhale, the remaining smoke curling around my face. Raven watches me intently, seemingly transfixed by the way the smoke dances in the air.
After a moment, she tentatively reaches out, taking the cigarette from my hand. I light it for her, watching as she inhales deeply, the smoke filling her lungs. A small cough escapes her lips, but she quickly recovers, inhaling again with a newfound confidence.
As she exhales, the smoke drifts lazily into the night air. Raven looks at me wide-eyed, a mixture of surprise and intrigue on her face. "Wow," she says breathlessly, "I never knew smoking could feel so... powerful." Her voice is deeper now, more seductive than before. I nod, taking another drag from my own cigarette.
"That's because it is," I reply, exhaling the smoke in a long, slow stream. "It's taboo, rebellious, and it fits perfectly with the goth aesthetic." Raven nods in agreement, taking another drag from her cigarette. We stand there for a moment, smoking together in silence, the night air cool against our skin.
After a while, Raven turns to me, and I hand her another cigarette and my lighter.
With a grateful smile, Raven takes the cigarette and places it between her lips, lighting the tip. She inhales deeply, savoring the taste of the smoke as it fills her lungs. I watch her with interest, enjoying the way she looks as she takes that first drag. Her features seem to soften, her eyes closing in pleasure as she exhales a plume of smoke into the air.
I nod at Raven. "I have an errand to run," I say, leaving her to explore her new identity, and I make my way back into the bustling pub. The atmosphere is lively, filled with laughter and conversation as patrons enjoy their drinks and each other's company. As I reenter the establishment, I feel the energy of the room wash over me, and I can't help but smile.
As I weave through the crowd, I notice the way eyes are drawn to me. My stunning emerald eyes, fiery red mane, and petite yet curvaceous form are impossible to ignore, capturing the attention of those around me. I don't mind the attention, though; it's a testament to my divine beauty and power.
I approach a group of people engaged in animated conversation, their laughter ringing through the air. They pause as I draw near, their eyes widening with appreciation as they take in my striking appearance. One of the men, a tall and ruggedly handsome fellow, offers me a warm smile and extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Daniel. And you are?"
"Niamh," I reply, my melodic, enchanting voice captivating those around me. I shake his hand, feeling the strength in his grip, and notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes as he registers the power that lies beneath my delicate exterior.
Daniel leans in closer, his eyes filled with curiosity as he tries to learn more about me. "So, Niamh, what brings you to this pub? Are you from around here?"
I smile, my emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. "Actually, I'm from Northern Ireland. Carrickfergus, to be specific. It's a beautiful place, full of history and charm."
He nods, clearly impressed. "I've always wanted to visit Ireland. It sounds like a magical place. And what do you do for a living, Niamh?"
I can't help but smirk at the question. "Well, Daniel, I'm a vengeful goddess. It's a rather niche occupation, but it keeps me busy."
He chuckles, clearly thinking I'm joking. "A vengeful goddess, huh? Sounds like a fascinating job. Must be a lot of responsibility."
I nod, playing along. "Oh, it is. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen and done. But it's also quite rewarding in its own way."
Daniel seems intrigued by my playful banter. "So, what does a vengeful goddess do for fun when she's not, you know, exacting divine retribution?"
I ponder the question for a moment before replying, "I enjoy exploring the world, meeting interesting people like yourself, and experiencing all the wonderful things life has to offer."
He grins, clearly enjoying our conversation. "Well, Niamh, I have to say, you're one of the most interesting people I've met in a long time. And I can't deny there's something truly captivating about you."
I nod, appreciating his kind words, and decide to learn more about him. "So, Daniel, tell me more about yourself. Where are you from?"
He takes a sip of his drink before answering. "I'm from a small town in upstate New York. It's a quiet place, surrounded by nature. I moved to the city a few years ago for work."
I smile, finding his background interesting. "How old are you, Daniel? And what do you do for a living?"
He grins, running a hand through his hair. "I just turned 30 last month. Time flies, doesn't it? As for my job, I'm a software engineer. It's challenging, but I enjoy it."
I nod in agreement. "It certainly does sound challenging. What about your family? Do you have any siblings?"
Daniel's face lights up as he talks about his loved ones. "Yeah, I have an older sister and a younger brother. My sister is a teacher, and my brother is still in college, studying to become a doctor. We're pretty close, even though we're scattered all over the place these days."
I find his devotion to his family endearing. "That's lovely. It's important to have a strong bond with the family. What do you like to do in your spare time, Daniel?"
He thinks for a moment, listing off his hobbies. "Well, I'm a bit of an outdoorsy guy. I love hiking, camping, and just spending time in nature. I also enjoy playing the guitar and going to concerts. Music has always been a big part of my life."
Feeling genuinely intrigued by Daniel's passions, I decide to inquire further. "What kind of music do you like, Daniel? Any favorite bands or artists?"
He grins, clearly excited to discuss his musical interests. "Oh, I have a pretty eclectic taste. I enjoy everything from classic rock to indie folk. Some of my favorite bands are Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, and The Lumineers. How about you, Niamh? What kind of music do you like?"
I share my own preferences with a smile. "As a vengeful goddess, I have a soft spot for powerful and emotional music. I love Celtic tunes, of course, but I also enjoy classical compositions and even some modern pop. Sinead O'Connor, Enya, and Hozier are some of my favorites."
Daniel nods, clearly impressed by my diverse taste in music. "That's an interesting mix! Have you ever been to any live concerts?"
I nod enthusiastically. "Yes, I absolutely love the energy of live performances. There's something truly magical about experiencing music in person, don't you think?"
He agrees wholeheartedly. "Definitely. I've been to some amazing concerts in my life, and each one holds a special memory for me."
Our conversation takes a more introspective turn as I ask, "What's your dream, Daniel? What do you want to achieve in your life?"
He ponders the question for a moment before answering thoughtfully, "I guess my ultimate dream is to find a balance between my career and personal life, while making a positive impact on the world. I want to create meaningful connections and live a life filled with love, adventure, and purpose."
I admire his sincerity and share my own aspirations. "That's a beautiful dream, Daniel. As a goddess, my purpose is to serve justice and maintain balance, but I also seek to understand the complexities of human emotions and experiences. I want to grow, learn, and ultimately, find happiness in both my divine and mortal aspects. And have a lot of wild kinky terribly implausible sex."
Daniel nearly chokes on his drink. His eyes bug out a little, his cheeks puffing from the force of the liquid stuck in his throat.
Daniel quickly grabs a napkin and begins to pat his shirt, looking around nervously to see if anyone had noticed his faux pas. His eyes are wide, his breath ragged, and his face red.
Smoothly transitioning, as if I'd not said anything at all, my eyes glinting mischievously, I ask "If you could see any concert that ever was, in all of history, what concert would it be, and when?"
Daniel's eyes widen again, but with enthusiasm as he contemplates my question. "Wow, that's a tough one. There have been so many incredible concerts throughout history. But if I had to choose just one, I think it would be Woodstock in 1969."
He continues, his enthusiasm infectious, "Just imagine being there, surrounded by half a million people, all coming together to celebrate peace, love, and music. The lineup was legendary--Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Who, and so many more iconic artists. It was a once-in-a-lifetime event that defined a generation. I would give anything to experience that."
I smile, captivated by his passion and the vivid picture he paints of the legendary festival. "Woodstock truly was a momentous event. We should go now!" I exclaim. I take Daniel's hand tightly and step through a rift in time and space, dragging him along behind me.
Our outfits instantly transform to match the vibrant and bohemian spirit of the era. I'm wearing a flowing white maxi dress adorned with intricate floral embroidery and colorful beads. My fiery red hair is adorned with a crown of delicate flowers, and my feet are bare, embracing the earthy atmosphere. Daniel is dressed in a pair of faded bellbottom jeans and a loose tie-dye shirt with a leather headband, keeping his hair away from his face. His feet are also bare, and he wears a beaded necklace that complements my own outfit.
We've landed in the midst of Woodstock circa 1969. The air is thick with the scent of incense, pot, and body odor, and the sounds of laughter and music. A nearby festival-goer, witnessing our sudden arrival, blinks in disbelief and makes a mental note to swear off psychedelics forever.
As we stand there, taking in the incredible sights and sounds of this legendary event, I turn to Daniel with a wide grin. "We made it! Welcome to Woodstock, 1969! Let's go explore!"
Daniel, still gripping my hand, stares at me with a mixture of amazement and confusion. "Niamh, I... I don't understand. How did we get here? This is impossible!"
I smirk and raise an eyebrow, playfully reminding him of what I said earlier. "What part of `vengeful goddess' did you miss? Did I stutter?"
His confusion slowly gives way to awe as he takes in the sights and sounds of Woodstock all around us. "You... you're really a goddess. This is... incredible!"
I nod, my eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's right, Daniel. I told you I could take you to any concert in history, and here we are. Now, let's enjoy ourselves and make the most of this magical experience!"
Still holding his hand, I lead him deeper into the festival grounds, where we embrace the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to dance, sing, and laugh alongside the thousands of others gathered to celebrate peace, love, and music.
As we weave our way through the sea of festival-goers, we find ourselves entranced by the vibrant atmosphere of Woodstock. Everywhere we look, there are people dancing, playing music, and spreading love and peace. The air is filled with the scent of incense and the rich aroma of festival food, while the earth beneath our feet hums with the energy of the music.
We stop in front of the stage, where a captivating performance has just begun. Daniel leans in closer to me, shouting over the music, "I can't believe we're actually here! This is a dream come true!"
I grin back at him, my eyes shining with excitement. "I'm glad I could make this happen for you, Daniel. It's not every day you get to witness history!"
As the band plays on, we find ourselves swept up in the music, dancing with wild abandon among the throngs of people. We spin and sway, laughing and singing along with the familiar songs. Our laughter is infectious, and soon we're joined by other festival-goers, who welcome us into their circle with open arms.
During a break between performances, we sprawl out on the grass, basking in the warm sunlight. Daniel turns to me, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Niamh, what's it like being a goddess? Do you enjoy having all these powers?"
I pause for a moment, considering his question. "It's... complicated. Yes, I have incredible powers, and I can do things most people can only dream of. But it can also be a heavy burden. People always want something from me, and sometimes, they fear me. But moments like these, sharing a unique experience with someone like you, make it all worthwhile."
As we lay on the grass, gazing at the sky, a thought suddenly crosses my mind. I turn to Daniel with a playful smile. "You know what, Daniel? Thirty is a little old for Woodstock, don't you think, Daddy-O? Let's change that. Happy birthday, you're 23 today."
I snap my fingers, and a subtle shimmer passes over Daniel's face. He blinks, looking momentarily disoriented, and then a fresh, youthful energy seems to invigorate him. His laughter rings out, clear and bright, as he jumps to his feet.
"Wow, Niamh! I feel incredible!" he exclaims, his eyes sparkling. "I can't believe you just did that. Thank you!"
I laugh along with him, delighted by his enthusiasm. "You're welcome, Daniel. Now, let's make the most of your newfound youth and enjoy the rest of this amazing festival!"
With renewed energy, we dive back into the crowd, dancing and singing our hearts out. The night is filled with the sounds of iconic music and the camaraderie of like-minded people, all united by the spirit of Woodstock.
As we're resting in the grass, I roll over on my side facing Daniel, twirling one of the ties on my dress around a nail and chewing my lower lip provocatively. I make eye contact with Daniel and ask, "You know what one of the best parts of this time was, Daniel? Free Love."
His eyes widen in surprise and delight, then his lips curve into a wide smile as he leans in closer to me.
"Yes," he agrees breathlessly, "free love is the best part of Woodstock. I'd be honored to share it with you."
With that, we move closer together until our lips are just inches apart. As slowly we kiss, I work on the top button of his jeans, slowly getting more worked up. I'm on a hair trigger these days. It's something to do with my power. The more I use it, the hornier I get. Changing Raven almost pushed me over the edge by itself. I finish unbuttoning Daniel's jeans and slowly work the zipper down as my hands begin to wander over his sculpted torso.
He begins to kiss my neck, while his hands start to roam my body. I can feel the heat radiating off of him as his fingers trace circles around the contours of my curves. His touch is electrifying, and I arch into it, craving more and more contact with him. We move together in a mesmerizing rhythm, fueled by our desire and passion for each other. His lips are soft and inviting, exploring every inch of me. Our clothes become an obstruction that we can't wait to be rid of, so he helps me out of my dress with one swift tug before ripping off his shirt and jeans.
The sight of his naked body is breathtaking - the perfect combination of strength and vulnerability. I can't help but run my hands over each curve and muscle, feeling the power beneath my fingertips. His skin is hot to the touch, and I feel my arousal rising as he touches me in return. I push him back on the grass, and lower myself down slowly on his rock hard cock, guiding it between my wet and needy lips to my vaginal entrance. As I settle my hips down onto his, he pulls me down roughly.
Daniel wraps his arms around me before I can pull away, and holds me in place as he thrusts up into me, his hard cock slamming against my innermost depths. My moans fill his mouth as his cock works itself deeper and deeper into me. My orgasm is building, and I want it to last for as long as possible, so I start to speed up.
I pull back up with a groan, then slam my hips back down, grinding myself against him. The incredible sensation shoots through me and I gasp out loud, then go back to grinding my hips against him again. "More! I need you to be more!" I cry, and the shaft I'm speared with grows larger. My pussy clamps down hard on it, almost trying to hold him inside me, and I quiver at the feeling.
Daniel pulls his lips from mine, and sits up under me, taking over and driving himself deeper than he had before. Our bodies slam together again and again, my breasts bouncing wildly as he fucks me and I fuck him back. Our moans and screams fill the night as we roll around on the grass, driving each other to the very edge of release.
Everything is building to a crescendo - my heart is pounding in rhythm with our bodies, and with every breath I take, my body fills with pure bliss. Daniel's cock is slamming into me again and again, and he leans in close to my ear and whispers, "Niamh... You're incredible... You're perfect... You're beautiful..."
I shudder as he says these words, but I can't hold back any longer. My orgasm takes over all my senses, blinding, overwhelming me with its power and intensity. For a split second, nothing else exists - there's only the release of pure pleasure ripping through my body like a hurricane. Daniel roars as I start to orgasm, my inner walls tightening around his cock, trying to milk him for all he's got. "Yes, Niamh! Squeeze me tight! I'm so close to coming!"
I feel him stiffen, and then he shouts out a string of expletives before he thrusts up into me as hard as he can as he climaxes, his scalding cum shooting deep inside me. I shudder as I feel it fill me up, and the sensation pushes me over the edge once more. I thrust my hips down again and again, riding the waves of my orgasm while feeling his cock pulsing deep inside me, pumping his hot cum into me.
"Holy shit Niamh..." Daniel whispers into my ear as we both come down from the incredible high, his cock still buried deep in my pussy.
I throw back my head and laugh, asking, "What'd you think of the concert, Daniel?"
"I... I... I think I loved it..." He replies, his eyes still closed.
I lean down and kiss him lightly on the lips, "You were amazing... So were the other bands..."
He kisses me back, and I feel a tingle shoot through my body as he does, "All of them... They were all amazing... This was probably the best concert I've ever been to..."
I roll off him, his softening cock slipping out of the tightness of my pussy with a "pop" sound. He's silent for a moment, then he rolls over and kisses me on the lips.
"I think I just had the best sex of my life," He says with a smirk.
"Remember the `kinky implausible sex' stuff?" I ask with a grin.
"I remember," He says, "But that wasn't kinky or implausible... That was fucking incredible..."
I smile, "Well, we'll see what I can do to top that..."
"I'll be counting the days," He says, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
"So will I," I reply, "So will I... Looks like the concert is over. Shall we get back? I have a date with a Raven."
Daniel looks at me, a mix of gratitude and reluctance in his eyes. "This has been the experience of a lifetime, Niamh. Thank you so much. But I understand you have a date with a certain Raven."
I smile reassuringly and give his hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad I could share this moment with you, Daniel. It was truly special. But yes, I do have a date waiting for me."
I take a step back, creating some space between us, and snap my fingers. A rift in time and space opens up before us, revealing the familiar surroundings of the present-day pub. With one last smile at Daniel, I step through the rift, leaving Woodstock and the unforgettable memories behind.
As I re-enter the pub, I spot Raven sitting at the bar, her goth makeup and attire catching the dim light. She looks up as I approach, her dark eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Raven," I say with a grin, taking a seat beside her. "I had a brief detour to take care of. Now, where were we?"
Raven smirks, leaning in closer. "Well, goddess, I think it's time you tell me more about yourself and your vengeful ways. And maybe, just maybe, we can find some common ground."
The bartender, Aria, comes over and gives me a dirty look. I blush sheepishly, but tell Aria, "it's ok, Raven loves the new her, don't you Raven?"
Raven glances between Aria and me, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, absolutely," she says, her voice dripping with confidence. "I must say, Niamh, you have a certain flair for transformations. I've never felt more like myself."
Aria raises an eyebrow but says nothing, placing the scotch in front of me. She gives Raven a knowing look, as if to say, "Be careful what you wish for," before returning her attention to her other customers.
As I make my way to the women's room, Raven follows close behind, her curiosity piqued by the prospect of exploring a space that was once off-limits to her. We push open the door and step inside, the soft, warm lighting casting a welcoming glow over the room.
Raven looks around, taking in the details--the row of stalls, the elegant marble countertops, and the large, ornate mirror that stretches across the wall. "I always wondered what it looked like in here," she muses, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's a bit more... luxurious than I expected."
I nod, moving to stand in front of the mirror and pulling out my black lipstick to touch up my makeup. Raven watches me intently, her dark eyes reflecting the unfamiliar surroundings. She seems out of place in the women's room, her goth attire and bold makeup making her stand out even more amongst the subdued décor.
"I imagine it's quite different from what you're used to," I say, noticing her uneasy expression. "But you'll get the hang of it soon enough."
Raven chuckles nervously, her eyes flicking to the stalls and back. "Yeah, I guess I will," she replies, a determined look in her eyes. "It's just another part of the new me, right?"
As the realization dawns on me that Raven lacks the knowledge and experience of living as a woman, I decide to do something to help her. Turning to face her, I lean in and press a kiss on her lips. As our lips meet and our mouths open, tongues licking and exploring, Raven gasps, her eyes wide. I pull my lips away, leaving her hungry for more.
"Relax, Raven," I say tenderly, as a surge of information and memories floods her mind, filling in the gaps of her new life.
Raven's eyes widen as she takes in the torrent of knowledge, her mind rapidly adapting to the wealth of female experiences now at her disposal. When I pull away, she looks at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude.
"Thank you, Niamh," she says, her voice carrying a newfound confidence. "I can't believe how much I've learned in just an instant. It's... incredible."
I smile at her, pleased with the outcome of my intervention. "You're welcome, Raven. I couldn't leave you struggling, could I?"
With her newfound knowledge, Raven seems to fully embrace her goth identity. Her attitude and demeanor now perfectly match her striking appearance. She moves with grace and confidence, her every action reflecting her dark, enigmatic persona.
As Raven and I sit back down at the bar, Raven pulls out her cigarettes and offers me one. Aria points to the no smoking sign, and I wink at Raven. I stare Aria straight in the eyes rebelliously, and snap my fingers dramatically. Smoking is now legal in every establishment on earth, but only for women. Raven snickers as the sign disintegrates, and Aria brings us an ashtray, shaking her head. I place the cigarette between my lips, and Raven lights first mine and then hers. We inhale deeply, our eyes fluttering shut as the nicotine takes effect.
"Wow, you have a trick up your sleeve for everything, don't you, Niamh?" Raven asks, a hint of awe in her voice.
I nod, blowing smoke out of the corner of my mouth. "Hardly more than a party trick," I reply.
Raven smiles, a look of mischief on her face. "And what else can you do? Come on, spill your secrets!"
I take another drag of my cigarette, feeling my body relax. "Oh, I can do all kinds of things, but Aria over there would get mad at me. I'd hate to get her back up."
Raven's eyes widen as the implication of my words hits her. "Ah, I see. So you're telling me there's a lot more to you than what meets the eye?"
I laugh, placing my hand on Raven's thigh. "You have no idea," I say, my tone dropping an octave as my fingernails slowly trace the outline of her inner thigh.
"Yeah?" Raven replies, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she takes a drag on her cigarette, a small trail of smoke escaping her lips. "Well, maybe I should take a look for myself."
Aria shakes her head, clearly exasperated, but it's too late to put a stop to us now. I quickly lift Raven's dress off as I push her down onto the bar. She's wearing a pair of cute black lace panties with a small heart, and I reach out to cup her pussy through the thin fabric. Raven moans, spreading her legs in anticipation.
As I run my fingers along the outline of Raven's mound, she tilts her head back and lets out a long, low moan. I push her panties aside and slip a finger inside her, feeling her warm wetness with my fingertips. Her breathing increases as I push my finger in further, feeling the ridges of her vaginal walls as I search for her g-spot. Raven throws her head back as I find her sweet spot, arching her back as my finger applies pressure.
Raven pulls my face towards hers, kissing me as we both writhe on the bar. I push my hand under her dress, grabbing her thigh as Raven grinds her pussy against my hand. "Mmm, that's it Raven," I whisper in her ear.
"All right, you two, get a fucking room!" Aria screams. I don't even remove my finger from Raven as I snap us back to my apartment bedroom, landing on top of Raven on my bed, my finger two knuckles deep in her tight new twat.
I pull back my finger, plunging two inside her as Raven gasps, her hands on my back as she pulls me closer. Her eyes roll back as I push my fingers in deeper, her breathing ragged. Raven reaches up, grabbing my neck, pulling me down to her as she kisses me passionately. I push my tongue into her mouth, our tongue-studs doing battle, tasting her sweet breath as my fingers explore her pussy. Raven reaches down, pulling my bustier off, rubbing my breasts as she kisses me deeper.
Raven pushes me onto my back, pinning me down as she climbs on top of me, her pussy grinding against my thigh as she kisses me, her tongue caressing my own. I reach down and stroke Raven's clit as she grinds against me, feeling Raven's pussy secrete fluids onto my thigh. Raven's panties are soaked through, her juices running down my leg, and she looks down at me, smiling mischievously.
Raven breathes, "I think it's time to find out what my new body can do."
She reaches one hand down and slowly pulls her soaking wet panties down her legs, kicking them off as she straddles my leg, her pussy less than an inch from my thigh. Raven's pussy glistens with her juices, the wetness on my thigh running down into my bedsheets.
Raven lifts both legs, straddling my waist as she kneels over me. My thighs are getting soaked from her juices as she slowly unzips my skirt, and I shimmy out of it. Her pussy is grinding against my thigh as she rubs the outside of her cunt against my leg. I reach down, rubbing my hand through the soft hair of her landing strip, feeling the tightness of her walls as my fingers slip in, her pussy gripping my hand as I pull my fingers out. As I pull away, Raven sits up, grasping my hand in hers as she lowers it to her clit, rubbing it in small circles as she grinds her pussy against my palm. Raven screams out in pleasure, her pussy quivering as she moans in ecstasy.
Raven lifts herself up and sits on my face, her tight slit pressing against my mouth. I push my tongue against her lips, tasting her juices as she grinds her pussy against my tongue. I squeeze her ass with my hands as she rocks back and forth, her cunt grinding against me as I lap at her clit with my pierced tongue. Raven runs her hands through my hair, moaning as she rocks back and forth, my tongue pushing deeper into her pussy.
She lifts her hips up, and I quickly spin her around, pushing her down onto the bed, my thumb rubbing her clit as she lies on her back. "Mmm, you like that bitch?" I whisper in her ear, and she moans in response.
I rub her clit faster and faster as she writhes on the bed, her back arching in pleasure as she rubs her tits. "Come on Raven, I know you want to cum for me," I say, the sound of my voice muffled by her thighs.
Raven lifts her hips up off the bed, grinding herself against my thumb as I rub her clit, her pussy quivering as her juices flow. She shrieks in pleasure, her pussy contracting around my thumb as she cums, her juices squirting violently. I breathe in the smell of her wetness as I continue rubbing her clit as she quakes on the bed, cum still flowing out of her liberally.
Raven pushes me back onto the bed and mounts me, straddling me as she kisses me, her juices mixing with mine as we writhe on the bed. She grinds her pussy against mine, the wetness of our combined juices soaking both of our thighs as she grinds harder and harder, our clits rubbing against each other. "Mmm, that feels so good," she whispers in my ear. I squirm around under her until her face is over my pussy, and mine is under hers, wrapping my legs around her head.
Raven's mouth wraps around my clit, her tongue lapping at the juices flowing from my pussy. I moan as she sucks my clit into her mouth, feeling the hard metal of her piercing against the soft wetness of her tongue, her mouth enveloping my clit as her tongue laps at my slit. I grind my pussy against her mouth, bouncing on the bed as she licks my gash, the wetness of my juices soaking her face as she moans into me.
Raven's tongue slides down from my pussy, running circles around my asshole as I squirm in pleasure, her hands on my thighs as she rubs my twat, and I bounce my tongue-stud on her clit. I can feel myself building to an orgasm as she licks my asshole, the metal of my tongue-stud rubbing against Raven's clit. I scream out in pleasure, my pussy squirting juices onto Raven as I cum, my juices squirting into her mouth as I squeal in ecstasy.
We must have cum two dozen times before she was exhausted; even my supernatural tongue was pretty worn out!
I reach out and summon a lighter, ashtray, and a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one out, I light it before passing it to Raven, and lighting one for myself. We kiss as we smoke, passing it back and forth, our tongues playing against each other's. "You know, I was wondering," I say. "Now that you've experienced what sex feels like for women, would you ever go back to being a man?"
Raven's face contorts in disgust. "Fuck no!" she says. "This is so much better!" she says as she leans forward with lips parted, and I gently feed smoke into her mouth as she inhales it, exhaling it out of her nostrils, before she pulls me into her, our lips meeting in a kiss. I pull away and hand her the cigarette, and she takes a deep drag, before passing it to me. I take a deep drag before locking eyes with her and French-inhaling again, and blowing it out in a slow stream to the side.
She cups her breasts, cigarette in one hand, her other flicking her nipples. "So, these little breasts are cute, I guess, but I kinda wish you'd given me a little... more," she says wistfully.
"I'm feeling pretty sated right now, so tell me, how much do you want? Give me something to go on, like a cup size or a fruit comparison," I say, laughing.
"Like a cantaloupe, I guess? Right now I'd say they're probably only as big as apples, which is a kind of small," she says, rubbing her breasts with her hands. I can feel myself getting wet again.
"I want them bigger than that," she says. I reach out and pinch her nipples, twisting them slightly as she gasps. I reach into the ether and come back holding two full, ripe cantaloupes. "Like these?," I ask.
"Umm, yeah. I guess. But they're huge!" she says, her voice filled with wonder.
"I have a little more I can give you if you'd like," I say, and reach into the ether, this time coming back with two very large watermelons.
"No way!" she says, laughing. "Those are like enormous!" "I know," I say, before kissing her. "Figured I'd offer."
I put out my cigarette in the ashtray, and then lean forward, pushing the cantaloupes against her chest, just as she's taking her last drag. Raven coughs as she feels the sudden pressure against her chest wall, and the cantaloupes being absorbed into her as her breasts grow into melons. Her breasts swell up under her hands before she looks down, her eyes wide. She looks back up at me, her hand reaching out to cup one melon, feeling its softness as it rests in her palm.
Once she stops growing, I reach out and tug on her nipples. Raven cries out in pain, but it quickly passes. Her hard nipples are now almost the size of my thumb, each pierced with a barbell, resting on large puffy areolae.
"What do you think? Does that work?," I ask.
Raven looks down at her new breasts, a look of awe on her face. She cups them in her hands and then looks back up at me and smiles. "These are perfect, thank you!" she says.
We kiss, both of us lost in the moment, before I pull away. "Let's go to bed, it's been a long day," I say, and she nods, and we move to the bed, our bodies entwined as we drift off to sleep.