By FoxFaceStories

Circe is a sexy goth rocker who loves driving her boyfriend Jason wild with her body. But this wasn’t always the case. Once, she was a man, and Jason’s bully no less! But things really change when you end up cursed . . .

Gothic Curse

I fucking rocked the show. Of course I did. I always do. I belted the metal lyrics, posing in my black leather outfit and sexy dark corset, my black and purple dyed hair flipping all over the place as I headbanged with the music. My tits were practically urging to burst out of said corset, what with it laced tight to make my huge boobs look even huger. It gave my fans what they wanted to see though, so I went with it, the same as me strutting my stuff in my big heavy black boots and sexy fishnet stockings. 

“We love you Circe!” shouted several members of the crowd.

“I fucking love you guys, too, man!” I shouted back, before winking and getting back to the music. My real love was out of view of the crowd, hidden away right off stage but watching my whole performance. I spared a brief grin in his direction. 

Jason. 

My sexy boyfriend who was utterly devoted to me, and who I was even more utterly devoted to. I had a bad girl aesthetic, a tough rocker vibe, and a rebellious attitude, but when it came to him, I was utterly loyal. Even now, I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to him later. I wanted to push him back onto the bed and fuck his cock like crazy. God, I loved riding him, and the thought of it was making me excited even as I performed. It was a cover this time, but my own original stuff was coming. For now though, I was doing my best Joan Jett.

“I love rock and roll, put another dime in the jukebox, baby!”

Of course, that wasn’t always the case. I can’t say I was into rock and roll and metal at all, previously. Nor had I ever imagined I’d be a punk rocker goth girl, right down to the pale makeup and dark eyeliner and sexy corsets and fishnets and all the rest. 

Probably because I used to be a guy. Hell, I was a dude. An alpha male. My name wasn’t Circe, it was Larry, and I was the top dog on campus at the local college of my hometown. This was several years ago now, but no matter how long I lived as Circe, I’d never forget the man I used to be, or the actions I took that got me stuck like this.

You see, when I was Larry I really liked to strut my stuff in an altogether different way. These days, I show off my legs and cleavage, especially when I puff out my chest, what with these big tits. But puffing out my chest was to impress girls, back then, and to pick on weak dweebs like Jason. He was a bit of a nerd, a bit of an alternative kid. He was into drama and music, and always had an old school cassette player, looking like a total dork. I liked to trash his day and throw his player around, often because others laughed and thought it was hilarious.

“You’re such a fucking loser,” I’d say. “No one likes that old sound. Especially that sad goth shit. So lame.”

Jason would often step back against me, though. Not physically, but he always stood his ground.

“Some people have taste,” is what he’d say.

Yeah, the fact that he tried to stand up to me is what kept me coming back, and what led to me making a big mistake. 

It was by chance that it happened: it was night, and I was heading back from a killer party half-drunk. I’d already had some action so I was feeling good, but as I made my way back to my frat I happened upon Jason chatting to some goth-looking chick. Total ugly duckling and too chubby by half, if you ask me. Naturally, I stepped in.

“Finally found an ugly bitch willing to talk to you, Jason?” “Piss off, Larry. We’re just minding our own business.”

“Oh, listening to that shit gothic piss, are you? Still stuck in the rock and roll era? I guess this chick is the best you can find, huh?”

I pushed him aside and kept on walking, thinking that was that. Except while Jason was content to leave it there, the girl chased after me until we were both out of his view.

“Hey! Hey! Dickhead! That’s my cousin you were speaking about, asshole.”

“Ha, I guess that fits, given how desperate he is.” At this point, the woman fumed. “You just pissed off the wrong lady. I was just catching up with my cousin while I’m in town, listening to his troubles. But now it’s just you and me, asshole. And I can see what trouble he really has, and how to solve them. You don’t like my cousin’s taste in music? You think he needs a girlfriend? And you act like a bully? Why don’t we kill a few birds with one stone, huh?”

She flicked her wrist and said some words. I was about ready to smirk and laugh at her, but then in a flash everything changed. I felt this cold chill sweep over me, and I let out this gurgle like a death rattle. For a terrible moment, I actually thought I was gonna piss myself or die, or both. I looked around for help, but no one was around on the street, and I started shivering, unable to even keep my hands from shaking.

“Wh-what’s h-happening to m-me!? ”I remember stammering. “What the fuck did you d-do, bitch?”

The witch just grinned and folded her arms, raising one eyebrow in an expression of mockery I’ll never, ever, ever forget. “Just wait and see, bully man.”

That’s when it happened. The dark magic curse she put on me began to take effect. It was subtle at first; I started shrinking slowly in height, and it was only when I realised that this fat chick was starting to become as tall as me that I understood I was the one who was getting smaller. I yelped and tried to run away, but something about her freaky-deaky magic kept me unable to get far; It was like I was banging on an invisible wall or something. I hit that wall several more times, only then did I notice that my big rough hands were changing; they were getting all dainty and slim and shit, and worse, they were looking soft. Soft and pale. All of me was getting pale, in fact. My skin was whitening way up, and I was already a white guy, but I was a tanned one. You know, being outdoorsy and an epic alpha male jock had left me with a nice tan tone, but now I seriously looked pale! Like I was a goth guy or something. If only I knew the truth; but then again, I found out pretty fast.

“F-fuck you!” I spat. “Magic isn’t real?”

“Oh really? Then why are you starting to look pretty sexy, honey?”

I gulped as my waist started to push in. I swear, I’ll never forget what it felt like to have my shoulders pull in and my muscles shrink away. Some of them heated up and seemed to melt into fat, and that fat spread across my body into new places; places that definitely weren’t welcome.

“Ohhhhh! Ahhh! Fucking stop this and I w-won’t sue your fat ass!” I whined, but that seemed to only make her grin all the more. The chick - I only later learned that Jason’s cousin’s name was Anna-Lee - was way more powerful than even me in my male prime, so I have no idea what I was thinking when that happened. I wish I’d just apologised and not been such an absolute dickhead like she’d said. But instead I cursed her and swore, and said shit that I don’t even remember but definitely wasn’t pretty, and it only seemed to speed up my transformation. My waist pulled in further, but my fucking pelvis stretched, giving me a killer pain. My voice rose as I squealed - yeah, I fucking squealed, sue me - and it never went back down.

“Nice pipes!” the witch taunted. “You could be a great singer if Jason’s into that.”

I had no idea what she meant, but I was preoccupied. My goddamn hair was turning black and growing longer, covering my eyes until I pushed it out of the way, but by that point my lips were becoming sexy and hot (I didn’t think that at the time, but they were puffing up) and my face was all rearranging until the skin was smooth and my face was fucking killer - for a lady. My goddamn Adam’s apple went into full retreat, leaving my voice as a sexy husky woman’s! I was starting to realise what was happening, but I was in pure denial, even though my clothes were changing, leaving me with a black miniskirt and a goddamn leather corset! It was loose at the top, but then I felt this insufferable pressure in my chest. My nipples tensed, causing me to wince. I banged on the invisible wall and screamed for someone to help me. I even tried to run and tackle Anna-Lee, quarterback-style, but I just hit another wall.

“Stop this! Don’t you dare give me a pair of fucking - NGHH! UGHHN!!”

And then it happened. They rose and rose like a pair of cakes in the oven. Like fucking souffles. They were soft and big and round and they kept on going until they stretched my outfit wide, at which point the only space left to go was up, so they rose and rose, so that I was showing off a crapton of pale titflesh. I whined, cupping them, feeling how soft and pert they were. I almost didn’t notice that my nuts had gone numb, and then my dick just a second later. I remember looking at Anna-Lee and my jaw going slack.

“N-no,” I said in my new voice, and grabbed my crotch, sliding my new little fingers under my skirt and underwear. The fucking witch left me just enough time to grab my dick and try to pull it back. I was playing a goddamn tug of war with my own genitals, and I was losing. I lost. And I lost hard. It pulled back inside of my body, shrinking into nothingness, and my balls followed right on their trail until tears appeared in the corners of my eyes - emotional tears, and tears from the pain of having your balls squeeze up inside of you and become your own goddamn fucking fallopian tubes and ovaries. I was left with a fucking vulva and vagina, whatever the difference is between the two - it was all just pussy to me, really. But now I had a pussy. Now I was a walking fucking pussy with big tits and a hot face, and I could feel how fucking curvy my body was, because even my ass was perfect.

My body wasn’t my own anymore. I was a chick, with big pale tits and a set of wide hips and a waist that was pulled tight due to a dark corset I was wearing. My fingernails were painted black, my hair was longer - though not really long - and dyed dark. And worst of all, I wasn’t in control of my actions. I tried to bang on the invisible wall but couldn’t anymore. In fact, I posed on the spot, one hand on my hip which I cocked to one side, the other hand resting over my left breast in a way that I still do whenever I want to turn my Jason on, because it really draws attention to my big, sensitive tits.

“Welcome to your new life, Circe,” she said. “I think it’s a cool name for a goth girl like you. That’s who you are now, by the way. You’re a sexy goth girl who loves showing off her body and playing music and singing rock’n’roll, punk, and heavy metal. And you’re also my cousin’s totally devoted girlfriend. You absolutely love him.”

“I don’t! Turn me back! This is bullshit!”

She just grinned. “What’s bullshit is how you’ve been treating him. Now you get to make it up to Jason for the rest of his life. You’re going to be his fantasy girlfriend . . . and he’s never going to know it’s really you in there, Larry. That’s just between you and me. Enjoy your new life. Oh, and by the way, I’ve made it so you are very, very attracted to Jason, too. Hope that ‘blessing’ helps you! And by the way, Jason is still sitting on a bench that way - better go catch him!”

My body was on autopilot straight away. I moved, swaying my hips, my tight purple skirt swishing around my bare thighs, my thick dark boots going one in front of the other. I was sex on legs, stuck as the kind of big titted goth girl they make thirsty memes about. With each step, my boobs bounced, wobbling heavily on my chest. 

And then I found him. I wanted to turn away, but the worst part was that my mind was instantly flooded with a series of instructions, ones to follow, as I later found out, for the rest of my life.

“He’s your number one fan.”

“You want to please him. You love him.”

“Be his perfect Goth GF.”

“Always dress like this.”

“Be the punk rocker of his dreams.”

“Suck his cock. Ride him. Use handcuffs. Do all sorts of kinky stuff.”

“You’re into guys now, but completely loyal to him.”

“Getting groped and smacked turns you on.”

“Your name is Circe now.”

“Never tell him who you really are.”

“The curse is forever. Never drop the act.”

And so on. By the time I reached him and he looked up, he was captivated.

“Um, hi!” he said, looking sheepish.

I wanted to hit him. I wanted to get him to drag his freak cousin back. I wanted to be a man again. But the programming kicked in, and my body was already in horny attraction mode, and the dopamine rush in my brain was lighting up in his presence. So instead, I leaned over a bit to give him a perfect look at my creamy tits, raised an eyebrow, smirked, and said:

“Hey. I’m Circe. I hear you’re into goth girls.”

The rest is history. I’ve been his girlfriend ever since. We’ve lived together for almost four years now, and the sex is as constant as it is always orgasmic. I’ve long since given up trying to fight it, though I did fight the programming for a great deal of time. Always, though, I succumbed. His cock was just too good, especially when I rode him on top. I ended up becoming a musician, and I’ve become a damn successful singer, and I’m only getting bigger. I guess it’s a kind of success, really. Plus, I still get to push and shove Jason when I want, and even mock him . . . but only when we go rough in the bedroom and talk dirty, just how he likes it. I’m addicted to pleasing him, and as far as he’s concerned, Larry just dropped off the edge of the earth one day, and this gorgeous girl came along to literally rock his world. It’s not like he’ll ever know, and I wouldn’t want him to know anyway. I’m already humiliated enough, what with loving it when he takes me up the ass, or when I suck his cock, or when I dress up in my sexiest goth girl costumes with the most revealing cleavage all to please him. If he knew who I really was, I think I would just die from embarrassment.

It’s far easier to just pretend I was always Circe and accept my life as a hot, successful punk goth rocker, one who loves fucking her loving boyfriend and making music with him. I can go entire weeks pretending this was always me.

That is, except for when I got to his big family get-togethers. There’s a certain cousin of his, it turns out her name is Anna-Lee, and she always arrives with a grin on her face and an eagerness to chat to me. It makes sense; we’re both goth girls, of course. And most of the time, she says nothing, just smiles a bit too widely. But very occasionally, when the pair of us are alone, she’ll lean over and whisper something in my ear that just makes me want to die.

“I think being a big titty goth girlfriend suits you so much better, Larry.”

***

That sentence? The one above? That’s what Anna-Lee said to me on my fourth anniversary of being Jason’s devoted and stacked goth girl. It was just seven days after I rocked the hell out of that concert, the one I was talking about before. Jason and I had crazy hot sex afterwards. Something about rocking it up on stage always revs my stupid female body’s engine, and I get into all sorts of kinky stuff. He had me spread my legs and bend over against the living room couch and fuck me in the ass. God, I do so much anal now. I swear, my boyfriend goes fucking gaga for it, and it always makes me cum like crazy. To think, the nerd I used to bully now gets to stick his big, hard cock in my ass, all while I beg him not to stop.

But that’ll have to stop now, probably. Or at least we’ll have to be careful. Fuck me, as if being stuck as a pale goth hottie for four years (and the rest of my life) wasn’t bad enough, I ended up hurling pretty bad the day after the concert. And the day after that. I was feeling sick and tired enough - and hungry, too, despite the chucking up - that I ended up calling off another performance, despite what a goddamn knockout sensation I’m becoming. Hell, I was even too tired and exhausted for sex, and I’m always up for that due to the curse. I didn’t even give Jason a blowjob, and I can’t resist sucking his cock and drinking all his cum, especially since I gave up fighting what a blowjob queen I am years ago. So this was really bizarre right?

Well, Jason always was the smart one, back when I was a bully and even with Circe running the show with this body. He was the one who suggested that we hadn’t been all that careful with protection as of late, and that I should get a test.

Yeah, a fucking pregnancy test.

Which turned out positive.

The nerdy boyfriend that Anna-Lee had forced me to please and play-pretend with had actually gotten my goddamn uterus knocked up. My eggo was preggo, as all the losers say. During all those post-rock concert sessions of passion, he’d probably gotten me pregnant when he’d banged me against the wall. Fuck, it makes me get all wet just thinking about it. I was going to have an actual baby, and the only good part of that was my Circe self - the hot goth girl who liked to flaunt this body and was always in control - was just as emotional about it as I was. There were tears, there were fears, there were all sorts of long conversations. Jason was all kinds of understanding about it. I hate that he’s such a wussy emotional touchy-feely guy because it gets me all touchy-feely and makes me all gooey inside, and then I actually like the way he holds me and kisses me and tells me it’ll all be okay, which is what he did. Unfortunately for me, Circe and I have different opinions on what to ultimately do when a baby is on the way unexpectedly. I say get rid of it! Instead, she said: “Let’s keep it, babe. Let’s have a fucking awesome baby together.”

Cue hot sex now that I was feeling better. A lot of hot sex where I was forced to say shit like, “that’s right, fuck your pregnant girlfriend! You’ve already knocked me up, babe. I’m carrying your baby!”

Shit like that. Damn it, it’s so hot. I was even thinking about it when we had dinner at Jason’s parent’s place. Anna-Lee was close, and always managed to get herself invited, so the other goth chick at the table took her usual seat next to mine and grinned.

“I think being a big titty goth girlfriend suits you so much better, Larry.”

“Well, I’m about to get a whole lot bigger,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

But Jason was already dinging his glass and getting the attention of his parents and cousin. “Hey everyone, Circe and I have a really big announcement.”

“A ring!” his mother declared hopefully.

“Not yet, Mom! We actually, her, skipped ahead a bit. You might want to hold off on any celebratory champagne, because Circe won’t be able to drink any . . . for the next nine months.”

His mother gasped with delight, and his father laughed. “Congratulations! My word, boy, you’re really skipping ahead! Come here, Circe, honey!”

He embraced me, as did Jason’s mom, and more tears flowed from there. I was left beaming and smiling and wiping tears of ‘joy’ while inside I was fuming all over again. I was pregnant and all these people knew, and Anna-Lee was grinning from ear to ear as she took in the sight of me, noting that my boobs were indeed a bit bigger (already fucking massive, goddamn it) and my skin was probably glowing or some shit. After the congratulations and announcements I managed to find some space on the deck with just Jason and I. He was cuddling me, telling me over and over what a good mom I was going to be, and a hot one at that.

That’s when Anna-Lee came out, much to my despair. She hugged me again.

“Congratulations, you two. I’m so happy for you, Circe. Pregnancy will suit you. Teach you yet another lesson or two, won’t it, Jason?”

“Sure will,” he said, and his reaction gave me pause. I looked to Anna-Lee and she smirked.

“Did I forget to tell you? Jason here has known for a month now.”

I halted. No. She was playing head games with me. She had to be. I thought back to the events of the last month. He had been acting differently. A little more satisfied, more happy to squeeze my ass when I passed and talk out loud about what a “perfect goth girlfriend” I was, not to mention always pointing out how big my tits were, and how feminine I could be despite my badass exterior. It all started to make sense, and when I turned to look at Jason, he had a sheepish smile on his face, which told me everything I needed to know. For the briefest of moments, I had full control over this busty body.

“You know I’m . . . that I’m . . .”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, babe,” he said, pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheek in a loving fashion. “Don’t worry, I’m not repulsed or anything. It was quite a surprise, but after thinking about it, I decided I was even happier knowing who you are beneath it all. That my horrible bully now gets to be my amazing girlfriend, and now the mother of our baby.”

I had no idea what to say. I wasn’t sure there was something I could say now. Already, my arms were encircling him, my arousal growing despite the situation, despite our location at his parents’ house. I found myself thinking of the spare room upstairs that we sometimes sneak off to . . .

“Hey, it’s alright, Circe,” Jason said, kissing me on the cheek again, then on the lips. My heart thudded in my chest, my humiliation burning in a way it hadn’t for years now. He moved his lips to my ear and whispered in a way that told me how things were going to be from now on. “It’s all good, babe. It’s even hotter this way.”

I rubbed my thighs together and moaned despite myself. It was hotter. Fuck!

The End