1 - Psych office

Angelina took the steaming cup from the single-serve drink machine and allowed herself a deep sniff of the mingled herbal scents before settling down in her fine padded chair. Her client waited, but that didn't concern her greatly. The university didn't pay her enough to hang on their every word, and besides, a cup of honeyed tea was practically essential to get through the average counseling session. It wasn't as though the problems of a bunch of frat boys were really that serious anyway.

"So, what brings you in to see me today Dustin?" asked Angelina after her first steadying sip.

Unaccustomed to being put on the spot, not to mention under duress* (* as most anyone in Eta Alpha Mu considered 'having to be courteous'), Dustin had to scramble to reassemble his thoughts.

As he fumbled with his words Angelina scanned the details on her clipboard for something to do. Besides the basic demographic information, trivial data she could have seen with her own eyes, it listed Dustin Applecheek as a business major in his junior year with no prior history of problems other than those expected of someone who willingly joined that fraternity.

Eta Alpha Mu was considered either the best or worst fraternity depending on who you asked. There was simply no middle ground. It was a haven for pigs, whether by birth or attitude, and rather than fight the stereotypes of the porcine they seemed to go out of their way to embrace them. To a man... boy... they were greedy, rude, filthy, lusty, mysogynistic, and as non-politically-correct as it was possible to be.

And those were the good ones...

"I... I..." Dustin finally began, fumbling just long enough that Angelina nearly interrupted before blurting, "I've got problems with women!"

Angelina stared, nonplussed and with a blank look of incredulity painted over her features. Phrases about pots and kettles floated in her mind despite her being aware that it wasn't the correct metaphor. There had to be some practical, professional way to say "well duh" here without crossing the line.

"Well," Angelina started before clearing her throat, "given your... choice of affiliations... I..."

"Naw... I mean I've got a problem with women. Like... um... I think..."

Angelina's stare took on hints of irritation, "the point, Mr Applecheek."

"I'm... I'm..."

"Oh spit it out already," Angelina demanded, all decorum lost.

"I'm cursed," spat Dustin, "alright? I feel stupid enough saying it. JEEZ!"

Throwing himself down on the couch in a huff, Dustin crossed his arms and stared at the floor. Shallow snorts could be heard in the sudden silence.

Angelina was about to retort, ready to demand that he leave her office and never come back, when she noticed the tears at his jowls. This was no act. Eta Alphas didn't get emotional. People like this didn't cry in front of women.

Angelina took a long, slow drink which gave just enough time for Dustin to gather himself and begin.

"It happened like this,"

2 - Restaurant

Chefs and assistants bustled around the wide teppan tables lined with frat boys. Faces sweated in nervous frenzy despite the service-industry smiles. Everyone knew what kind of night this was going to be, but if they were able to endure it would be profitable for all. At least the university bylaws required them to tip.

"Brothers," announced one huge porker who had risen, beer in hand, "tonight is one of our biggest nights of the year. We've got one last week before end of term and we need to be loose and relaxed."

A round of lewd, grunting laughter rippled across the table.

"...and nothing gets me relaxed like good food and a good time. So eat up boys, drink up, and get ready to add another notch to your paddles. We're meetin' up at Jerry's after the feast, so don't load up too much at dinner. You're gonna need room. And be on yer best form. There's gonna be ladies present t'night"

A round of grunting laughter followed as the Eta Alpha members appreciated the crude nuance of the way their leader had said "ladies". To them, a lady was any female that didn't reject their advances. Everyone knew that when the drinks started flowing,ladies seemed to appear.

Finally, the food arrived. The chefs busied themselves with their craft, putting on a show that they knew only served to whet the longing hungers of those around them. It was probably a waste of effort, but they were being paid. Applause followed at every trick, as expected, but to a man each chef sweated and worried at the hungry eyes that waited to be satisfied.

3 - Bar

Jerry's Bar, a popular destination for college youth, was normally busy. Tonight, though, they braced for a storm. Every time the Eta Alpha Mus reserved the main ballroom for the evening was a night that the bar would be filled to bursting. The hogs packed in, regardless of the fire code, and everyone else had to squeeze in around them. They would inevitably sell huge amounts of liquor and bar food, but the mess took hours to clean afterward.

Worse yet, tonight was karaoke night.

"...DON'T STOP, BELIIIIEEEVIN'! HOLD ON TO THAT FEEEEELIN'! STREETLIGHT PEEEEPUUUUUUUUL!"

Dustin laughed uproariously with the band of hangers-on as the song finished. Turning the mic in his hand, he made as if to drop it. He let it fall, but only far enough to lash out his other hand to keep it from actually hitting the floor. A snorting laugh was all that the wide-eyed DJ received for his worry. It wasn't bad enough that every... single... time... that song came on, everyone had to try and sing it... badly, but they knew that equipment was sensitive and always made the DJ flinch.

Making his way back to his chair, Dustin's ample rump bumped into several tables and chair backs. Among these, a table of mature women who complained sharply as he passed. Unlike the largely porcine population in the bar, these three were sleek and musteline

"Can you believe this?" Amarita snapped aloud, "We try to have a decent evening and I end up with a fat ham in my face!"

"Worry not sister," Vatara intoned in a smooth, even demeanor, "A minor inconvenience is not worth losing one's cool."

A cackling laugh cut through, if not the room, at least the local din. "Trade me seats then, Amarita," Ella retorted with a wry look, "That one had a bottom that was just made for pinching!"

Back at his table, Dustin took up his beer mug and emptied it in one great pull. Slapping it back down on the table, he cut a thunderous belch which was followed by grunting laughter. His bare arms snaked out around the pair of Chi Nu Tau sorority girls that flanked him. He completely failed to notice the discomfort on their faces.

"Did I ever tell you about my dad's businesses?" he started, grinning lewdly and knowing that there was nothing to talk about quite so panty-dropping as the impression that he was wealthy.

The pair seemed to be listening intently. One, a slender vixen with an all-natural look about her was some sort of journalism major. The other, a curvaceous badger who had obviously had some work done, hadn't said what she was into. Both of them fawned and simpered, hiding only a hint of disgust at his body. Dustin didn't care about his hygiene beyond what it took to not be directly repulsive. He was convinced that girls liked his "manly musk" and their gold-digging tactics had never changed his mind.

And next up on the mic, give it up for... Ella!

A round of applause momentarily drowned out Dustin's words as the opening chords to Sweet Caroline played over the speakers. He spared a glance to the singer. An old weasel or something... one of those species he could never keep straight in his head since they all looked the same to him anyway... had taken the stage and had begun singing in a creaky, british-tinged accent.

"This guy botherin' you?" asked an obnoxiously high male voice.

Dustin's head snapped around to behold a towering figure, fully dressed in a suit and tie. The huge belly nearly obscured the face of Big B, the largest, most influential voice in Eta Alpha Mu. Only an idiot would mistake Big B's girth for obesity, however. In addition to being Frat President, top student in every business class he'd ever attended, and obscenely wealthy, Big B was also the school weightlifting champion. His arms were thicker around than most sorority girls' waists. On top of it, unlike most other Eta Alphas, Big B knew the trick of offering kindness.

"Come on ladies," he practically squeaked, even as Dustin's dumbstruck mind put together what was happening, "I'll get us some drinks and you can tell me all about it. Looming over Dustin, Big B reached out his massive forklifts-for-arms. Both girls took hold as he pulled them to their feet, standing on their seats. Without even the slightest hint of strain, he readjusted his grip and lifted each of them up with a single arm to sit on his shoulders. Their tittering peals of laughter were an assault on Dustin as he sat silently staring.

He had been cock-blocked! The smoothest, most unanswerable cockblocking he had ever seen! Nobody messed with Big B so he could do exactly nothing about it!

Fuming and shoving himself up from the table, knowing there was nothing to be done about it, he plowed his way toward the karaoke station. What was in his mind, he couldn't say, but he felt like lashing out. He grabbed up the second mic just in time to...

"SWWEEEEET CAROLIIIIINE! BAH BAH BAAAAAAH!"

Shock rippled through the audience as Dustin proceeded to sing, badly, over the elderly stoat's charming rendition. Eyes stared, jaws went slack, some withdrew in disgust, but many among the frat brothers laughed as if this rude display were the grandest comedy. What amazed most of the staring crowd, however, was how the woman who had been interrupted was reacting.

Instead of anger, Ella had a wide and mischievous smile. Taking it all in stride, she sang along and even managed to harmonize with his unimpressive voice to bring the song to a close. With the final "sweet caroline" the crowd clapped half-heartedly. Frat boys in the crowd hooted and cheered their brother's bold move. The karaoke DJ stared daggers at Dustin, silently demanding that he return the equipment before he made it an issue. In return, Dustin stared back daring him to do anything about it.

Dustin jumped as he felt a hearty pinch at his bottom and a skinny arm wrap around his waist. In shock, he looked down at the wizened form who had taken hold of him. A pair of bright eyes stared up at him from a lightly pruned face.

"Buy me a drink and you won't regret it, big boy," Ella said with a bright smile and just a hint of hunger in her voice.

Dustin jerked away, a mixture of anger, surprise, and disgust on his face. "Piss off granny. I ain't lookin' at gettin' no cobwebs on mah dick."

Returning to his seat, he sat heavily in an ill-tempered huff. That was supposed to have been an outlet but it had hardly been the release he needed. Casting his eyes around the room, the mood darkened as he saw not one unaccompanied female apart from the old skank and her weasel-y friends... who were now all staring at him. Their eyes captured his attention with their intensity, though their faces were not at all angry. In fact, he considered, they _should_have been angry. It was actually annoying that they had the nerve to wear such calm...

Dustin pulled his eyes away from those unflinching augers and shook his head. All of a sudden he felt as though he'd just lost a drinking contest. Dizzy, he looked around to find that somehow nearly everyone had moved away from where they had been. Head swimming, he took the glass of water that... wait...

Thirst wracked him as he picked up the glass of iced tea, hoping that it would get him back on track. Long years of fraternity life had taught him about spacing out his drinks if he expected a long night. They had all loaded up at dinner to make things last even longer. He wished his head would stop buzzing as it made any sort of focus fade out the moment he tried to fix on anything. It was almost like...

Draining the glass, Dustin grimaced at the strong herbal flavor. The heart of Kentucky and this place couldn't even get _tea_right. Heaving a sigh of relief, Dustin finally felt like he could relax. Whatever had gone wrong, it certainly wasn't wrong anymore. Things felt like they had gone all soft and warm.

"Alright, that was Kenny with Redneck Woman. Put your hands together." The DJ announced as he advanced to the next track and waited for the applause and jeers to die down, "Next up, we've got Amarita, Vatara, and Ella."

Dustin watched as the trio of mustelids took the floor. A sneer crossed his face as he recognized the old bag who'd messed with him before. Even as he saw her face, though, he could swear he caught a mischievous glint. She had looked directly at him. Knowingly.

He couldn't look away.

The three hummed in startlingly perfect harmony even as the opening chords played the extremely short intro. They were clearly audible over the crowd with a sound that seemed to pierce the din and drive right into the mind. In rotation they sang each line of the song as though they had practiced the routine for years, even though it was a modern song.

Dustin's eyes squinted as he took in the other two. One was pure white, but with shining blue eyes instead of the expected pink. A very pretty face, but thin as a rail, her entire manner suggested that she had a stick up her ass. The other was practically the opposite. Black and dark brown fur, a voluptuous figure, but the plainest face he'd ever seen. His bias towards natives showed as a racial slur crept into his mind.

The chorus dropped with the three joining in a perfect reverberating harmony. Though he had heard the song before, he could swear that something was different this time. The lyrics were different, though he couldn't explain how. The three part singing was making things strange. A tingling crept up Dustin's spine and spread across his body.

"Hexes... and Ho-o-os..." Dustin caught himself singing along, dazed with eyes blurred.

How much had he had to drink? Slurring the words like that wasn't easy... but were they actually singing it like that? Were those the actual words of the verse?

An uneasiness took hold in Dustin's mind as tingling spread up his back. The creeping sensation twitched at his muscles even as his thoughts swam. Something was happening... something wrong. Unsteady, he held up a hand in front of his eyes.

Instead of his lightly callused, dark and rough palm was a lighter, softer, more slender hand. A twiddle of his fingers set the foreign phalanges in motion, confirming...

Pushing himself up from the table, Dustin could barely keep a thought in his head as the room blurred and spun around him. This wasn't the booze. Alcohol might cause problems with balance, but it sure didn't make you hallucinate. The only certainty was that he needed to get to the bathroom...

Now.

4 - Office

"So, what..." Angelica asked incredulously, "you were incredibly rude to some old lady and she and her friends... what... drugged you? What are you..."

Angelica caught herself. Dustin was glaring at her now, and years of classes let her see the vulnerable, hurt, sad disbelief in his face. Whatever this was, she couldn't actually believe that he was lying, whatever the real truth may be.

"I ain't done..." Dustin grunted, "And I didn't get roofied or nuthin. I ain't stupid..."

"Please," Angelica said, "I'm sorry. Go on. Please, go on."

"You ain't gonna believe me anyhow."

"Dustin. Shut up and just tell me what happened. At this point who gives a damn? It's not like I'm gonna tell anyone unless you committed an actual crime and are dumb enough to actually tell me."

A moment of silence passed. Inwardly, Angelica's gut churned with her unprofessional outburst.

"Alright," Dustin said finally, banishing the tension, "fine, I went into the bathroom and that's when I changed into a girl."

Seconds passed while Angelica processed this.

"You..."

"Before you even ask. I ain't no homo, tranny, crossdresser or nuthin' like that. Never was. I didn't join Eta Alpha Mu to hide nuthin' or prove nuthin'. I literally transformed into a fuckin' girl..."

More time, more processing, more chopping through the fog of utter confusion as Angelica tried to figure out just what was happening.

"Did... did you... tell...?"

"I wasn't in my right mind." Dustin said seriously, "Whatever happened to me... it was like... I was watchin' through my eyes, but I wasn't turnin' the steerin' wheel. Except... no, that's just what it's like now while I'm tellin' ya. In the moment... I..."

"I think you'd best just tell me what happened next."

5 - Bathroom

Dustin stumbled into the bar bathroom, head whirling and clothes feeling too tight. An itching crawled over his scalp and as he tried to scratch he found not stiff bristles, but long and supple locks of hair. Gasping for breath, he heard a wheeze in his voice that pinched the sound higher up.

A wave of euphoria hit him like a fist made of bubbles as he brought his too-slender hand up to have a look through blurred eyes at the long handful of blonde hair that was attached to his head. Another detail presented itself in him noticing that his fingernails now shone a bright candy-apple red.

His stomach gurgled as if his dinner was crawling up into his chest. It was at once disturbing and almost ticklish. He pulled both hands up in front of his face in shock, only to notice that his chest felt absurdly tight, as if there was something in the way. He pushed himself to the sink for a look in the heavily scratched and marred window.

His scream came out as a bubbly giggle. Whatever was clouding his mind was completely overriding his normal reactions. What he'd desperately hoped to see in the mirror, his own drugged features looking wasted, was replaced with the image of... some chick wearing his shirt! Wearin' the hell out of it like she'd rolled it up and tucked a couple watermelons in it. The bottoms of them tiddies were hangin' down, the shirt stopping just below the nipples!

Slender arms, a slender waist, tight tummy, and big ol' wide hips made up the rest of the visible body, and a face that was hauntingly familiar but undeniably feminine topped with a huge mass of silky golden hair. The denim shorts Dustin had worn had somehow become mid-thigh and distressed. He looked...

Dustin dropped one hand down into his waistband hoping against hope...

"I'm a girl!" he yelled, although his ears heard none of the horror that he felt.

"Heehee! Yeah! I AM a girl!"

A fit of giggles erupted as the image in the mirror bounced up and down. The happy face it wore reflected none of his inner horror. Silently he begged inside his own skull for this to be a bad trip, a nightmare, drugs, anything that would make it all not true. Something else bubbled up over his thoughts and out his mouth.

"And my name is Dusty!" he said as his mind collapsed, having no more energy to resist. He was along for the ride, nothing more. Everything went into autopilot driven by his own motivations now twisted against his will. The only emotion that the new form grabbed from the old was his basic carnal drive.

"Oh my gawd, I'm sooo horny right now," Dusty moaned lasciviously, feeling the shudder of fear crawling up her spine as the inner Dustin heard what she had said and realized what was about to happen. The crawling sensation blossomed out into a flush of arousal that sent Dusty's nipples poking up against her shirt and her thighs grinding together.

As if on cue, the door pushed open and one of the Eta Alphas stumbled in. He showed no sign of noticing as he made his way into the stall, but Dustin begged and pleaded that he could just slip away. He could feel Dusty's thoughts laying over his own, canceling his urge to flee and showing him a vision of what was to come as she waited for the frat boy to finish up.

When Hank emerged from the stall, Dusty had maneuvered out of sight, slipping around him as he made his way to the sink. Her arms wrapped smoothly around him, startling him and making his head jerk up to look into the mirror.

Dusty's finger slid up over Hank's mouth.

"Help! Something's wrong with me!" Dustin completely failed to yell. Instead, what ended up coming out was a desirous whimper and a whispered, "hey baby, wanna have some fun?"

Without waiting for a reply, and ignoring the sputtering, Dusty slid her hand right into Hank's jeans, deftly seeking whatever was inside. Her hand closed around a rock-hard stub of a cock that made Dustin mentally recoil. Not only was this definitely happening, but...

"Oohhh!" Dusty squealed in honest-sounding delight, while inwardly Dustin groaned, "is this all for me?!"<I'm gonna suck a dick... but at least it's a tiny dick for my first one...>

Hank leaned back and gripped the sink as Dusty worked on his fly. The smell of Hank's musk hit Dusty like a rock to the nose. Dustin recoiled in his mind, but most troubling was how much Dusty seemed to latch on to it. He could tell the funk of alcohol and sweat, and how Hank had probably not washed properly since the night before. But something from Dusty's mind conjured up flowery images of manliness. He couldn't help himself.

"Oh you smell like my boyfriend," Dusty sighed as she gave Hank an experimental lick. She giggled, "You wanna be my boyfriend sugah?"

"Baby," Hank rumbled, his breath short, "I'll be your boyfriend, your daddy, whatever you want."

Hank wrapped his fingers through Dusty's hair and pulled her face to his crotch. Now it was Dustin's turn to giggle. While he felt, smelled, and even tasted everything, he couldn't help but be amused watching and hearing how much Dusty was putting into this.

Dusty let Hank's tiny tonker slip through her plump lips, rolling them in to avoid catching any teeth on him. Shoving her tongue forward, she made the most of what she could fit inside. Hank grabbed and pulled at her hair, sending zings of delight up and down her back as she worked. Salty and sour, it was never-the-less thrilling her no end just to be this close. She reached around, grabbing Hank's expansive butt through his jeans as she forced her face into his, burying her snout in his thatch and working her neck as she sucked.

All too soon Hank was panting, his breaths coming in ragged gasps and his fingers flexing through her hair. His muscles tensed and before they knew what hit them, Dusty/Dustin was having their mouth filled with the salty tang of Hank's load. Hank held Dusty's head as his little dick spasmed, emptying out the teaspoonful that he had. Dustin wanted to gag, but Dusty sucked it down like nectar of the gods.

Finally, Hank relaxed his grip and pulled back. Dusty let the quickly softening shaft slide from between her lips, looking up and smiling as a single creamy line remained to connect them.

Hank wasn't looking, reciting the gasped catechism of 'oh god' and 'holy shit' as he lingered in the glow of the best blowjob he'd ever had. Inside Dusty's head, Dustin drowned in shame and revulsion at what had happened, Outwardly, Dusty waited, doe-eyed, for the next move, hoping against hope that it would go further. Finally Hank looked down.

His eyes went wide and a strangled scream gurgled in his jowls. Fumbling at his pants like there was a fire he shoved his limp dick back in and held it closed while he bolted for the bathroom door. Dusty pulled herself up from the floor and stared into the mirror. The face that reflected back was pulling itself back into her own familiar shape. For just a moment, she had looked like some guy.

The moment was over, and all Dusty could think was how she hadn't sealed the deal.

"Oh well," she thought to herself, "try, try again."

6 - Bar

Dusty stumbled slightly as she made her way back to the lounge. A burst of giggles erupted as she regained her balance. Her sticky lips glistened in the neon signage as she ran a greedy tongue over them. Whatever else happened, she was getting laid tonight. Tottering over to the bar, her oversized and unsupported breasts jiggling as she worked her hips, she pushed up between two dedicated drinkers and made a show of looking through the bottles.

The bartender rolled her eyes at the new turbo-slut who was trying way too hard and made her way down the line to where half a dozen of the disgusting pervs sat ogling the easy meat. She made a mental note to add gratuities to the tabs, knowing that the dumb fucks would never remember what they'd ordered if it meant getting into some over-eager cutoffs. She'd go so far as to watch for roofies, but otherwise, that girl was on her own.

Shots lined up as eager frat boys made their way over, drawn like moths to a flame. Dusty batted her eyes and flirted, leaning in to allow everyone a look down her shirt. Selecting a shot at random she tossed it back like a pro and smiled lewdly. The conversation went as monotonous and simple as could be expected, 'what's your name', 'you from around here', 'let's ditch these losers and get to know each other better', but with each little giggle they plied her with appletinis and blowjob shots. Somewhere deep inside, the huddled mass of Dustin was wishing desperately that the alcohol would smother him, but he couldn't feel even the slightest touch of it.

The attention was intoxicating, the drinks were intoxicating, and the boys were everything she wanted. Dusty seemed to pull everyone in like a magnet, in some cases leaving dates fuming as their guys wandered up to the bar.

Eventually, Dusty signaled that she was ready to make her choice. And her choice included just about every hanger-on. Dizzy, supported by half a dozen guys with hands all over her, they headed back to Eta Alpha Mu. Inside, unheard, Dustin moaned in horror.

7 - Office

"Are you telling me that you got picked up by your own frat brothers?!" Angelica said incredulously. Her hands were on her knees, leaning forward on the edge of her seat.

"Well we do have a reputation," Dustin added with a touch of fraternal pride, "can't really blame 'em."

"And no one suspected?"

"I mean..." Dustin rubbed the back of his neck, "I was a hot chick who wasn't sayin' 'no' and I'd just agreed to a gangbang so..."

"Point taken, so what happened next?"

"Um..." Dustin felt the blush crawling over his skin.

"I meant, you're... I mean... you shaped. How are you back to normal?"

"Right. Yeah. So we all head back to the dorm. I can't do nothin' but watch. Everything I try to say comes out as some kinda inn-ya-end-oo. So we get back to the common room..."

8 - Frat Dorm

Dusty was being carried by four fratboys while the rest of her entourage whooped and chanted around her. Held aloft like a palanquin on their shoulders, she encouraged them with occasional hair pulls, nipple slips, and wiggles of her hips. Every now and then, one of the hangers on would take a grab of her ass or grope one of her giant, sensitive tits. Nothing they could do provoked so much as a squeak of disapproval.

Around her, a few others had held onto their own conquests. Being less willing to share the one turbo-slut around with their brothers they had brought some of the other gals from the bar. Dusty couldn't help but pity those other girls for the attention she was getting, but this was only a fleeting thought. She wasn't here for any of_them_. The guys who hung on her every word was all she needed.

The doors of the frat house stood before her, and were parted by two of the hangers on. Like a trophy from a hunt, she was carried into the huge space of the party room. Hastily some of the furniture was being pulled aside and rearranged to make room. Someone had draped sheets over tables and couches, the whole room had a lingering odor of scotchgard.

Someone turned on the music. Deep throbbing bass, pointless lyrics, and pulsing electronic sound filled the room.

Dusty was thrown down onto a detached chaise, surrounded by half a dozen guys. Their sweaty porcine musk was candy to her nose, delighting and promising that more was yet to come. Her greedy hands groped bulges, big and small, and tugged at waistbands. She stopped only for long enough to pull her shirt up to expose her tits.

Immediately the frat boys grabbed at her jugs and pinched, tweaked, and even took turns having a suckle on her nipples. Hands slid all over and dipped down into her jean shorts. Fingers found her wet, hairless labia and slid effortlessly between them.

Someone pushed aside the invading digits and shoved their snout in their place. Dusty jumped and laughed headily as the rooting snout sniffed and snuffled around, taking in her scent, before clumsily setting about eating her out. Whoever it was that was taking that muff dive was inexpertly licking and nibbling all over the place. Dusty hardly cared and cried out for more.

The frat brothers obliged her heady cries and pulled forth their piggly wigglies. Dicks pushed in from all sides, eager for Dusty's attention. One by one, she took them into her mouth even as some of the more eager boys pressed in against her cheeks and chest. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she grabbed the two closest to her hands and jerked even as she sucked.

A salty eruption suddenly filled her mouth as one of the boys popped off early, but there were plenty more. Another went off in her hand, splashing a load on her chest and the hand of one of those groping her tits. With a cry of "aw gay!" The hands were removed as the two horny pigs ended up in a shoving match. The two were unceremoniously pushed aside as new dicks and hands came forward for their turn.

"Someone get their dick in me," Dusty insisted in the moment of respite.

With a cheer from the fratboys, the one who had been clumsily munching her stood up and attempted to line himself up through his beergut. His stubby cock poked against her slick wet labia, missing the mark a few times before finally slipping in. He wasn't too big, but Dusty found herself virgin-tight and winced at the moment of entry, despite her well lubed state.

Moments later she felt a spread of warmth and the sensation of getting even slicker. The fat bastard groaned out and spasmed between her thighs as they gripped him and pulled him in. He slumped forward, pushing a couple of his brothers away. It took a second, but eventually the coin dropped as to what had happened.

"ONE PUMP CHUMP!" Dustin's mind screamed, a mix of horror and schadenfreude.

The quickshot was helped up, slipping out of Dusty with barely any notice, and stumbled away.

"Sloppy seconds anyone?" Dusty giggled out, throwing her legs wide, inviting whoever might take her offer. With yet another cheer more fratboys pushed forward to take their turn.

9 - Escape

Dustin awoke to head-crushing pain. His mouth was bone-dry and it felt like someone had shoved a marble into his sinus. His throat felt scratchy and his eyes were crusted as he tried to open them. Someone had an arm around him, across his chest, and he could hear a number of snores and grunts. One hand moved to his face and attempted to help open his crusty eyes.

It was dark, but not so dark that he couldn't see. The party room had dozens of mood lights and neon signs to cast back the darkness. It was quickly apparent that he was where he was afraid he'd be. But maybe it was all a dream? He checked whose arm was holding him across the chest, hoping against hope that it would be a soft, feminine arm.

It wasn't. It was big and bristly and attached to Ogre... captain of the Rugby team.

A scream caught in his throat as he jerkily pulled Ogre's arm away from his body, cringing as the heavily snoring bastard squeezed in a grope as the hand drew back. Dustin rolled himself off the chaise lounge, feeling the crusts pull in his body hair as he went. It was painfully obvious that he was naked, and as he stood he became aware just how sore he was.

Remembering the gangbang of the night before, Dustin dry-heaved and gagged. Creeping in from the periphery of his thoughts was the sure knowledge that it was the collective spunk of a dozen of his frat-mates that had dried on him and glued his hair down... and...

Grabbing the closest clothes to himself, he rushed as quietly as he could through the hall and up the stairs, hoping to get to his room and to the shower. Bursting into his room he threw everything haphazardly around and darted to the bathroom. It didn't matter that the pipes ran cold for the first minute or so, he needed to have water washing this all away NOW!

Vigorously, abrasively, he scoured every inch of his body with the roughest washcloth he could grab. By the time the water got to steaming, he had already used up a quarter of his body wash. Images and sensations played out over and over in front of his eyes as he painfully freed his body hair from the super-glue-like cum all over. He may have cried, tears might have formed, but they were lost in the spray of the showerhead.

An hour later, his skin raw and stinging, Dustin crawled into bed. In desperation he had shaved his body hair off, hoping that it would help. All it accomplished now was that his sheets and comforter felt strange against him. He just wanted to sleep and forget, but nothing he could do would allow his mind to turn off. The record of being gangbanged by his own frat brothers like some sort of porn star was playing over and over. The bad fucking, the frustration, and the certain knowledge that it had definitely been him getting it.

The door clicked open and someone stumbled in.

"Ffffuck. Shit all over the place... what the fuck. That you Dustin? When'd you get back?"

"I wish I knew where he got off to," a dejected, pouty voice replied.

No... it couldn't be, Dustin thought, it was impossible. He'd just been chain-fucked by the whole frat, he'd been groped and pinched and had a dozen dirty cocks in his mouth. He couldn't be...

"Oooh, who's that? That jerk leaving you high and dry,"

"Dustin's not here, Dusty whined, "and I just shaved too. What am I to do? I got squeaky clean... everywhere."

"Well, baby girl, I'd hate to let that go to waste. Why don't you come on out here and show me."

Dusty pulled herself off of the bed, holding a sheet teasingly over her goods, just as the lights came on.

"Smooth as a baby's ass," Bubba said, approvingly. Dustin could feel the leering, the ogling, and Dusty only felt her desire. Longing drove her forward even as Dustin pulled desperately back. He could NOT end up fucking his roommate. He could _NOT_handle this! The guy was nastier than anyone else in the whole frat!

And there it was, his dick was out.

Even as Dusty eyed it hungrily and said and did all the right things, inwardly Dustin was bawling with hysterical laughter. He knew that Bubba was a pig... they were all some sort of pig, hog, or boar as it was practically a requirement for Eta Alpha Mu... but holy Jesus if he wasn't the full deal, corkscrew shaped dick and all. He was fat and gross with a weird little pecker and now Dustin would know just how bad at sex he was. It was blackmail material if he ever needed it.

A revelation stole over Dustin in a moment of desperation. He could ruin their lives and expose all their dirty secrets. He could...

The taste of sweaty, unwashed dick invaded Dustin's thoughts and brought his mind forcibly into focus. Dusty happily hummed as she slurped at the cock in her mouth even as Dustin reviled it helplessly, wishing for all the world that he could make her bite or jerk back or anything. Just anything to make her pull away. He would be crying or yelling or running if he could, but all he was able to do was ride along.

The plan, he thought. Remember the plan. Stop trying to fight it and start focusing on all the nasty shit Bubba liked. And... he had to find help.

10 - Office Finale

"It has been six times since that night... every night this week. It's like I'm a werewolf or something. I get horny, even a little bit, and next thing I know, Dusty comes out!" Dustin whined, cupping his face in his hands. "I can feel it all... I remember everything afterward... I can't even drink it away since trying to get drunk just..."

Angelina sat, wordless. Nothing she had ever trained for was up to this. How did one even approach this?!

Dustin was now openly sobbing, "And I ain't studied a bit! I'm too busy lettin' every bastard in this university ride me like some carnival ride... I'm gonna fail my exams on top of all this bullshit! It's those damn weasels. They cursed me!"

Angelina let him burn some of the emotion off before speaking. Talking too soon would likely cause an outburst.

"Do you have any idea where the ones who cursed you have gone?" She asked, buying into the story, but only so far as to drive towards a breakthrough, "Maybe they can be reasoned with?"

"I don't got no idea who they were or where they went," Dustin sighed, defeated.

Silence. Angelina had nothing to add and Dustin couldn't get past his shuddering sobs. How could she help here?! It was crazy!

"I mean... All I know about things like this comes from YouTube videos and sitcoms. Usually you have to apologize to the ones you wronged or learn a lesson or something. But... I mean... this is real life! I've never even seen anything like this before. I haven't even seen it happen to analyze it."

Dustin was silent save for the great horking snorts as he sobbed. Angelina decided that the ball was in his court now and she would wait for a reply. Still, it was taxing her patience and skill, knowing that his pain was self-inflicted and having a gut feeling that he hadn't actually learned anything even if he had been taken by the proverbial football team.

"I know this is hard," she tried gently after a time of silence, "but we need to approach this scientifically. What do you know and what have you learned from this?"

It was immediately clear that she had struck a nerve. Dustin's entire demeanor changed, with self-pity melting swiftly into simmering anger.

"What have I learned?" He growled, "you tryin'a make like this was my fault? I'm the victim here!"

Too many bad thoughts ran through Angelina's head at that. The fraternity had a well-earned reputation after all. But her training saved her. Whatever this was, it was not an ideological battlefield. Now was the time to be firm.

"Look," she said cooly, "you said you're cursed. You're turning into some kind of were-bimbo. That's what we're here for. Whatever I might think about you or your fraternity, we have to deal with the problem at hand. You say you get lustful and all of a sudden you're a shameless slut who fucks your frat brothers who haven't even noticed it's you. Right?"

"I... uh..." Dustin stammered, completely off balance.

"Right?!" Angelina shouted in her best gym-coach voice.

"Yeah. Just like that."

"So, now, what are we gonna do about it? We gotta hit this hard and we gotta start with the facts!"

Angelina stopped and stared at Dustin. Right before her eyes, Dustin was looking different. His features were softer, his eyes were wide and bright, and he was even slimming up. He was changing!

"Oh... oh gawd," Dustin stuttered, his voice pitching upward like a bad autotune filter, "oh gawd it's happening again."

Then it hit Angelina.

"Are... are you fucking getting _turned on by this?!"_She shouted, even as she watched his chest expand and stretch out the shirt he wore.

"I... I can't help it," the now-girly voice replied, "you're so damn hot when you yell like that!"

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

"Oh gawd, that gets me so hot," Dusty, not Dustin now, moaned, "I want you to show me what you got! Make me pay for insulting those witches. Make me sorry for being such a bad little whore."

Angelina stood up from her chair, "There is no way..."

"Please. I'll do anything you say."

Dusty dropped to her perfect knees and threw Angelina a perfect pout. Her big watery eyes shining with unmasked desire. She crawled toward Angelina who was backing away, scooting up onto the desk. Brain in overdrive, Angelina hung onto the desperate words.

"Fine, fine, you'll do anything? Then we have to figure out how to... um... turn you back."

To Angelina's surprise, Dusty's pout grew sad and soppy. Her eyes welled with tears and it was almost like watching a cartoon of sad puppy eyes. A shuddering breath drew in.

"Y-y-you. You w-want me to... to..." Dusty sobbed before breaking down in high, squealing sobs.

It wrenched at something inside. It was pitiful. Whatever this was... it was pathetic... but Angelica couldn't...

"I... Dus... Dusty?"

A rolling snort, completely at odds with Dusty's looks, rattled through the office as Dusty scrambled for tissues.

"We're going to figure out how to fix this."