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Text only version. For the illustrated version, you should probably check the Discord channel included with your member benefits! 😊
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“Way to go, Daniel. Another Valentines without a girlfriend to spend the day with, not like that’s anything new,” you sigh, staring blankly at your bedroom ceiling, wishing you could forget about the holiday you’re supposed to be out and celebrating today. Problem is, you can’t exactly celebrate Valentine's Day alone and so, given your current single status, you settle for the next best thing. Sitting on your office chair, booting up your PC and preparing to run your favorite gacha game. Is it kinda sad that the devs have included Valentine’s Day messages for the countless obtainable characters? Yes. Is it even sadder that you are about to log in specifically to listen to the ones from your favorite waifus? Yep. “At least I still have you girls to look forward to,” you let out a dry chuckle, scrolling through the characters to hear the same time-gated voice line you’ve heard at least 4 Valentines in a row.
“That’s a horrendous coping mechanism, you know?”
A foreign voice grazes your ear, forcing you to spin the chair in a 180 to face the direction it’s come from.
“What? Never seen a cupid before?” Face to floating face from you is, well, a cupid. Exactly like the ones commonly depicted in media, except that yours has a bit of a beer belly and some bald spots going on.
“How…? Wha…?” you can’t finish your questions, not quite sure where one is supposed to start when faced with a being that isn’t supposed to be real, and it doesn’t help that it has begun to cut off your stuttered questioning.
“Don’t bother with the questions, kid. I’ll keep this brief.” The cherubic being waves dismissively at your stupefied expression before it snaps its fingers, swapping you to stand on the floor, and it to sit in the inappropriately sized chair. “I’m taking some time off from work, buuut my boss is nagging me to find someone to cover my shift, and as you can probably guess, there are not many free cupids on Valentine’s Day. So you, my friend, have the honor of being honorary cupid today,” it explains, grabbing a tiny heart-shaped bow from thin air and tossing it towards you. “Catch.”
The cool draft of your AC registers through your legs almost immediately after you catch the thing, trailing cool air over your half-naked frame, now draped in nothing but a flimsy toga. “What the hell is this?!” you cry out, tugging at the loose fabric that barely covers up your body.
“Standard cupid attire, get used to it,” the cupid responds, not bothering to look at you as it puts on your gaming headset. “Now go out there and help some folks out with their love issues or whatever.”
You cross your arms, not exactly pleased with the bum of an angel putting its hands on your setup. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”
“Geez, kid. Have you never seen a cartoon? Just hear out the person’s issue, focus a bit, and shoot an arrow. Not exactly rocket science,” it explains, not giving you another second to complain or ask further questions when you are blinked away with another snap of its fingers.
Carol – No freebies
“Motherfu—” you stop your swearing to glance at your new surroundings. The snap seems to have displaced you mid-insult, landing your feet onto the wooden floorboards of a nice, cozy living room.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Frank. No means no! That is final!” A living room bearing witness to the shouting match of a dysfunctional relationship. “I am not blowing your limp dick just because ‘it’s Valentine’s Day honey’ and that’s final. Maybe if you actually treated me to some dinner from time to time, you’d get some action from me!” The middle-aged woman paces back and forth right in front of you, apparently indifferent to your presence altogether. She just continues to tug at the blonde strands of her bob cut with enough force to rip some hairs off while staring side daggers at her sitting partner.
“Come on, Carol! You always reject even the slightest idea of fucking me! Either that or you act like a dead body on the bed!” Frank’s words seem to break something in his wife’s psyche, earning an angry, incredulous twitch of her eye.
“Oh, now you’ve done it, asshole!” she snaps at him, strutting towards his seat with the clear finality of violence in her eyes.
Shit, you’ve been here for less than a minute, and the situation where you are supposed to “help out” is quickly crumbling into domestic violence. “How the fuck…” You tug at the flimsy string of the pink bow before the situation can escalate any further. Successfully drawing the cord into something of passing resemblance to a proper archery posture, and doing as the cupid instructed you. You focus, allowing the man’s desire to flow through you – Getting Carol to pleasure him – until a pinkish energy gathers around the string, coalescing into the shape of an arrow that you let go of.
“I can not believe you, we ar— ackgh!” Carol’s body jerks from the strike mid-stride, the glowing projectile evaporating into a soft glow that travels over her body. “What was…” she stops, eyes unfocused as the features of her vacant face begin to visibly regress by the double digits. The worn creases of skin around her smile tighten, clinging firmly to the facial muscles underneath. Her lips follow suit, plumping up into an inviting pucker covered in glossy sheen. Carol’s scarce traces of makeup darken into bold lines tracing the outline of her brown eyes, giving them an inviting glint behind some freshly applied lashes. Her blonde hairs darken to voluminous brown strands that cascade around her shoulders, draping over her thinning limbs as the body fat she accumulated through years of a stress-filled relationship is aggressively plucked to fill out exclusively the finest parts of her body; flowing into her saggy boobs and rounding them out with firm mammary tissue until they rest high on her chest, beautifully perky and large enough to fit any hands that’d like a squeeze or two. The flow continues down to her waist, trimming the excess pudge off her tummy, and squeezing it into the explosive growth of her pelvic region, spreading out her hips to the point they lightly surpass her shoulders, rounding out her figure into an exaggerated hourglass her mature self could merely dream of.
“Mmm~” Carol’s vacant eyes close into a delighted purr, running her hands over her freshly formed curves, the ill-fitting cloth underneath changing along their path. Loose-fitting pants now cling to her thighs as transparent lace that hints at the plump figure underneath. The plain tank top under her digits stretches to fully accommodate her nether regions, fusing into a black teddy piece that overflows a generous amount of her ripe melons above its neckline. “Sorry, did I space out, love?~” Her eyes open with a confident glint, admiring the man in front of her with predatory intent. “Why don’t you tell me what you wanted this Valentine’s, handsome. You paid for the premium Valentine’s package, after all. So you have me for the whooole daaay~” she coos with a nip of his ear, bending by his legs to illustrate the inviting swell of her cleavage, then sinking to her knees in a squat that perfectly accentuates the lush curves of her lower body.
“Aah~” Frank can’t even answer from how thrilled he appears to be, oblivious to the fact that the woman in front of him is no longer Carol, or even engaged to him. He’s just stuck admiring the soft contours of the paid escort peppering kisses on his tent.
“So eager for me already~”
Thankfully, whatever power’s holding you to this unwanted job decides that you’ve “fixed” the situation well enough and snaps you to your next case.
Melissa – Relaxed around her
“Fuck…” you are left speechless through the next teleportation. Still thinking of what you’ve just done. That was an engaged couple, a clearly dysfunctional one where you’d argue Carol was on the receiving end of most of the stress, and what did you do? You turned her into an escort. You erased an innocent woman and replaced her completely with an eager slut because you chose to focus on Frank’s selfish, and quite honestly sexist, desire.
“I can’t mess this up again,” you resolve, taking your time to finally acknowledge your new surroundings. You’ve been dropped off into an office, standing just beside a stern-looking woman signing off on some papers. “Melissa Harris – General Manager” you get to read off her desk plate as a knock arrives at her door.
“Come in” she calls out, allowing a nervous man to step into her office, holding his wrist and doing his best not to squirm.
“You called Ms. Harris?” he squeaks out, completely avoiding eye contact.
His reaction seems to upset her for some reason, sighing into her next words, “Please take a seat, John. I wanted to see you,” she gestures to a chair, which John quickly takes.
“It’s about last week’s reports, right? Oh god, I don’t want to get fired Mis—
“John, would you like to go on a date with me today?”
Her words baffle both of you, and much to her annoyance, they are not taken very seriously by her interest. “Oh, that was funny, Miss. Harris. I thought I heard you say that you wanted to go on a date. I–if you don’t mind, I’ll take my leave now…”
You pinch your nose at the same time as Melissa, incredulous of the young man’s denseness. Still, you understand the assignment and pull back on the bow string. Last time you shot its energy into the target of someone’s desires, so you settle for a new approach, focusing on Melissa’s desire – Get John to relax around her – and open fire at her own body.
“John, I am serio— ackgh~” Just like Carol before her, Melissa’s body spasms from the sudden influx of foreign magic. The arrow doesn’t go to the drastic extent of Carol’s identity change, but the two big changes happening underneath her blouse are very telling of its effects. Melissa’s top instantly begins to stretch taut across her chest, fighting back against the mounds developing underneath. “Mmm~” she groans, arching back as her bust doubles, then triples further in size under her caressing fingers. “Yes~” she moans as the first button pops off its seams, followed by the sounds of its brethren until her plain blouse hangs open to spill out two gorgeous, round globes.
“So, John,” she punctuates his name with a breathy tone, standing above the office worker to proudly present her head-sized tits, hanging like ripe fruit in the open neckline of the leopard print blouse that used to be her professional office top mere seconds ago, “still unsure of that date?~” she bites her plush lip, shimming her shoulders in a manner that makes full use of her vast neckline, jiggling every plump bit of her hefty breasts.
You don’t get to hear his answer, since her bust size upgrade seems to count for a job well done, leading to another displacement of your form. Though, you don’t expect him to say no to such an incredible woman.
Scott – Best set on campus
“1 out of 2 is a 50/50 success rate. So I’m doing well so far, right?” You cope with yourself, appearing in a bedroom this time, and with the displeasure to witness some dude gooning right on his bed.
“God, Lucie’s tits are amazing!~” he groans, audible squelches coming from his member with each stroke while he browses the public page of some college student.
You shut your eyes in disgust, pulling on the string and focusing as quickly as possible on this dude’s desire – Getting a hold of his campus crush’s tits – you can’t help but sneer, second to Frank’s, this is possibly the worst case you’ve had to help with today. Regardless, you let go of the arrow. Uncaring for how it will be interpreted, since the only one to be hit here is him, or he would’ve been hit if your grip didn’t slip, gravity doing you the favor of jamming the tip into your exposed foot.
“No,” you mutter, hoping, wishing, that the title of honorary cupid somehow covers you from the arrow’s effects. But the flash wave of heat spreading through your body tells you otherwise. “Please~” you cry out as your legs thin and your knees give, the plumping meat of your thighs cushioning your fall to the floor. “I don’— mmmgh~” you groan, a sharp colic flickering through your abdomen as your cock and balls recede into your body, ceding momentarily only to be replaced with a gnawing heat that spreads from your fresh folds to a growing organ in your tummy. “I don’t want to be som— oogh~” The tone of your wails increases in pitch as your facial features soften, followed by the corresponding structures underneath. “I don’t want to be some pervert’s jerk off fantasy, please~” you cry out, as the loose toga falls off your stick-thin body, leaving the responsibility of modesty to the dark locks cascading through your back and the dainty arms futilely covering your flat breasts. The magic remodelling your shape wastes no time with its finishing details, carving away at your pectoral muscle so that it’s nice and lean, only to stuff the skin over it with a much softer filling, “Aaah!~” increasing the pressure of your blossoming bosom until your arms can’t hold their volume back any longer. “Mmmgh!~” Exploding a spectacular set of melons off your chest, dangling into heavy, perfectly shaped tears over your ribcage
You can’t help but reach out and squeeze them, “Oooh!~” pinching your stiff nipples repeatedly just to see them jiggle back into place with a nagging heat pooling in your belly.
“Lucie?” Your flushed face turns to a guy reeking of musk and sperm, something your hormone-intoxicated body registers immediately.
“Scotty?” Your rearranging memories instantly spew out the cutesy nickname, identifying him without issue; he’s the guy constantly staring at your tits in class. You can’t blame him, really. You do have an amazing rack, and right now, you want someone that can appreciate it.
“How…”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, your body crawling to his legs, dragging your heavy tits from his ankles to his undone zipper. “Are you going to ask? Or are you going to help me Scoootty~” you purr, freeing his cock into a sloppy, lubricating kiss, before it disappears into the valley between your tits. “Mmm~…” you hum softly, squeezing your breasts in a slow, teasing rhythm, “Like that? Are you enjoyi— Oooh?” Your dirty talk is interrupted by the firm squeeze of his hands around your teats, driving his member into them like you are just a toy meant to get him off, “Use them Cum on them Scotty” you giggle, licking the beads of precum gathering at his tip as he begins to twitch between the best boobs on campus.
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Not much of a creator's note on this one, I did have this idea of a shorts type format with the protagonist somehow being responsible for the changes, kind of like the "Don't charm local deities" story but with the protagonist being the one responsible for changing people around. Also the idea of a balding middle-aged bum cupid thing is funny to me for some reason. Anyway that's all and see ya on the next one : )
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