Sweet Dreams, Princess

Gym bro. Gone girl.

He had only blinked. That’s all it was.

One moment he was wiping sweat from his brow, watching her—that girl with the Eye tattoos and dangerous hips—press her fingertips to another man’s chest like she was testing if the spell worked.

And it did. Of course it did. He twitched when the other guy moaned, body pulsing with a pink glow like something inside had cracked open and let the glitter in.

He wasn’t supposed to care. But jealousy… jealousy tasted sweet in his mouth, like melted candy on his tongue.

And then—she was in front of him. She was already there.

“Impressive,” she purred, her voice velvet-dipped static. “So many of you gym boys take to the spell like you were born for it.”

He tried to stammer something—anything—but her fingertip pressed against his chest before his breath could organize into resistance. Just one gentle tap of that glowing pink claw.

The gym dissolved.
His body slumped.
And the spell caught him mid-throb.

Pink curtains. A satin bed. Pillows that smelled like strawberries and obedience.

He was still wearing his tank top, still trembling—but now his pulse was syrup-thick, his body flickering with the first signs of surrender.

His eyes fluttered open just long enough to see it: letters searing into fabric across his chest, curling in glittery script:
“LILY”
“sweet dreams, princess”

His lips parted in a gasp. Not from pain. Not from surprise. From… relief.

Something inside him whispered:

“There she is.”

And so he sank.
Back, deeper, softer—like the bed had arms, and they were cradling him into girlhood.

His final thought before the spell silenced his name?

“It’s not her spell.”
“It’s mine now.”

She let the silence hold him—like a failed spell still worth dreaming in.
And then she turned, already reaching for the next pulse.

TG transformation sequence of 51 pictures

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