avaro56

Transit, 73

Added 2025-10-31 00:15:17 +0000 UTC

...The dream was blurry. And she was light.

A strange, hollow feeling. She was in the hotel room—her hotel room, 718—but it felt wrong. She looked down. Her chest was flat. 4 Unremarkable. She brought her hands to her face; her nails were short, bare. Her hair felt thin and was a dull, mousy brown. 5

She was wearing a cheap, leopard-print thong. 6666 It was the only thing she had on. She felt a familiar, sickening twist of humiliation. She was exposed, but worse, she was invisible. There was nothing to look at.

In the dream, she saw herself, this other Lori, this Pleason, lying on the bed. 7 A plain, fit body with narrow hips and small, natural breasts. She was asleep, but her rest seemed anxious, her face pale and pinched. 8

The dreamer, the real Lori, felt a wave of pity and disgust. Look at her. She's empty.

The dream-Lori felt the hollow absence of her plug, the lack of weight on her chest, the missing stretch of her branded ass. It was a terrifying, desolate freedom. This plain creature was a ghost.

The scene shifted. The plain Lori was on her stomach, trying to pose, to be sexy, but it was pathetic. Awkward and shy. She had no curves, no presence. She was a rough draft, a forgotten sketch.

A voice, her own but deeper and more confident, echoed in the dream. You were so weak. So afraid. So... boring.

The dreamer felt her real body in the real bed: the satisfying, heavy weight of her 2500cc tits, the stretching fullness of her swollen, branded ass, the tight grip of her red vinyl boots, the grounding pressure of the plug inside her.

Heavy. Full. Stretched. Worshipped.

The blurry, light, empty feeling of the dream faded, banished by the superior reality. Lori Pleasure settled deeper into her sleep, her body heavy and complete, her transformation cemented even in her subconscious. Day Four was over.