The Barmaid 2 - TG Caption

Why do these pants have to be so tight? Not that Stacey had minded when she was the one looking and not wearing. She couldn’t even walk across the floor without them riding up and squeezing into places they really shouldn’t. What was worse, that whole area was steadily growing warmer. The leers from the mostly male clientele, so unwanted just hours before, were starting to cause little flutters in her belly. She knew exactly what thoughts lay behind those eyes. She’d had them not long before. So why did they seem so much more… enticing now? She found herself adding a little extra bump and grind in her too tight leather pants, encouraging them to watch more. Her tips started to rise, and by the strange power affecting her, she continued to change.

At one point, while passing close to a particularly burly man, she felt a sharp sting on her leather clad ass accompanied by a resounding SLAP. It hurt, but the pain quickly faded to a far more concerning sensation, arousal. She stood there, dumbfounded, trying to process what happened as waves of warmth spread from her backside, lapping at the lust an entire night’s worth of stares had built.  Her body grew rounder.

"If you liked it girly, I got more for ya right here!” Burly said lifting his tankard in mock salute.

To her chagrin, Stacey very nearly threw herself at him, but managed to resist, walking away from the hairy, muscly behemoth with only a small twinge of regret. She absolutely did not want to go rub herself up and down his hairy body like a cat with a giant scratching post, nope, not at all. Stacey continued to work the room as customers became more and more rowdy, the occasional pinch, slap or tickle from roaming hands only increasing in frequency as she returned their attention in kind. That other barmaid was right, flirting definitely increased her tips. At this rate she would work her debt off in no time, but the cost… She could feel herself slipping further and further into the role, enjoying herself more all the time and not caring about any consequences. She was having too much fun!

Why was she so hell-bent on getting away from this place anyway? Were those leers really disgusting just hours ago? Even that burly bastard from before was looking better and better as he slowly sipped from his mug and watched her with hungry eyes. She found herself wanting to go to the bear of a man, to snuggle in and be surrounded by his over-sized bulky body. ‘His lap looks so comfy,’ she found herself thinking. ‘I wonder if he’d mind me using it like a pillow?’ Finally, business began to wind down. The bar slowly cleared out and she looked around, noticing Burly was still there, still staring, still making her want. It was too much, the strange changes, the flirting, the suffocating warmth of a room filled with hot bodies and her own increasingly damp warmth. She wanted this. She wanted him. She found herself walking over, hips swinging back-and-forth, slowly expanding breasts bouncing with every step.

"Well, well. Welcome back gi-"

“Shut up,” she said before grabbing his scratchy, unshaven face, and shoving her tongue in his mouth. He shut up and wrapped her in huge arms, calloused fingers dancing across delicate skin. Stacey reveled in the attention before pulling away, panting and hornier than ever. She wasn’t conflicted anymore. She knew exactly what she wanted.

“Take me home Burly.”

“That's not my name.“

“I don’t care,” she said before jumping up and wrapping her long legs around his torso. Stacey ground her aching sex against him.

Apparently, Burly didn’t care either. He grunted and carried her back to his room, as she giggled and held on tight.