Addicted to Pretty (3/7)

Dustin was back the next Friday like clockwork, trying to act chill. He slumped into the couch, tossed her a controller, and said, “Rematch?”

Ember raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him with a smirk. “You sure?” she asked, her voice honey-sweet. “You’ve been, like, suuuper bad at this game lately.”

“I’ve been practicing,” he replied, straight-faced. “I’m gonna win this time.”

She gave him a slow smile. Then, without a word, reached under the coffee table and set down a pair of huge, jiggly breast forms with a soft thump. Beside them, a pair of towering black heels—glossy, sharp, and unforgiving.

“Well, when you lose,” Ember said with a grin, “you’ll be putting these on. Deal?”

Dustin swallowed, hard, his eyes flicking down to the breast forms for just a second too long. “I-I won’t lose,” he said, forcing a shrug, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. He shifted in his seat again, fingers tightening on the controller. “Not this time.”

He lost the first match in less than ten minutes.

The second was even faster.

“Oh no,” he said flatly, setting the controller down. “Guess I lose.”

Ember burst into laughter. “Nice try. It’s best of five, remember? You could still come back.”

His pout gave him away before his thumbs even touched the controller again. She didn’t even have to watch the screen to know he was tanking it.

By the end of the third match, Ember was already peeling back the film on the adhesive breast forms, a little grin tugging at her lips.

“Shirt off,” she said gently, her voice almost teasing.

He obeyed without hesitation—too quickly, really. There wasn’t even a pause. Like he’d been waiting for her to say it.

The chill of the silicone against his skin made him shiver as she pressed them onto his chest, smoothing them into place. They were huge—obscenely bouncy, jiggling with every breath he took. The clingy crop top she tugged over his head did nothing to hide them. Then came the skirt—tight, black faux-leather, riding high on his hips. She tugged it snug, adjusting it until it hugged his figure like it had always belonged there.

Then she sat him down and got to work on his makeup—quick, practiced strokes that turned his boyish features soft and sultry. A sweep of bronzer to sculpt his cheeks, shimmering shadow smoked out at the corners, and thick lashes that fluttered with every blink. She finished him off with a smooth, matte pink lipstick, carefully overlining his lips just enough to make them look full and feminine.

He stepped into the heels carefully, one foot at a time, adjusting as they lifted him up on his toes. The fit was snug, the arch steep, but he didn’t complain. If anything, he lingered a little too long, making sure they were just right.

“Okay,” Ember said, clapping once and grinning. “Let’s see if you can actually walk in them.”

Dustin took a breath and tried. His ankles wobbled almost immediately, knees locking awkwardly as he stumbled forward in a stuttering little half-step. He barely caught himself before tipping sideways.

Ember giggled behind her hand. “Oh my god, you're like a newborn deer.”

He stuck his tongue out but didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down—focusing, adjusting, trying again. His movements were stiff, awkward, and a little desperate, but she could see it—the way he wanted to get it right.

And after a few more clumsy steps, something clicked. His hips swayed, just a little. His balance steadied. His chest bounced with each step, soft and heavy beneath the crop top. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Ember tilted her head, watching him strut halfway down the hall and back.

“Wow,” she teased, biting back a giggle. “You walk better in those than most women.”

His cheeks turned pink, but his smile only grew as he looked down at the heels. “It’s just for the bet,” he mumbled.