EC III-XIII: New Phase Extended Cut

Phases, subcultures... Something about teen years, when a young woman does not yet know what her style is? Well, Keira, despite being twenty-two, would still empty her wardrobe of one style to thrift herself a completely different one. This one was a bit of an inbetweener, with a sleeveless top, leggings, ankle boots and an abstract bob haircut. The new phase, however, was literally just around the corner, as she was walking down the street.

It was bothering Keira quite a bit. The leggings were tighter now than when she put them on; something was up with them. She didn’t really want to approach the bus stop, where other people stood. The whole style changing was supposed to be comforting, but this was very close to ruining her day. The creaking was more audible with each step, and then a chilling sensation made Keira stop completely, at a loss for words.

She had no panties on anymore. Gone. Overtaken by these leggings, and now the creaky material was gently stroking her clitoris while she was out on the street, and Keira was frozen in place, panicking and getting warmed up at the same time. Some bypasser asked if she was alright, it reached her as a distant echo. She said yes, her cheeks burning up even hotter. She probably did need help, but how does one even explain something like that on a dime?

She was wearing a corset now. Her top was compromised. She tried to pull it off while she still had bra on, but it was already one and the same with these cursed leggings. Her boots were different, too. They were creeping above her knees, with a thousand heavy straps appearing, but not closing... at least, not yet.

The collar on her top was now made of metal, and getting thicker by the minute. Keira found the massive clasp at the front unlocked, but pulling the thing apart and off was still beyond her strength. Tears ran down her eyes. She no longer ruled her attire. She could not stop the change. Everyone on the bus stop was staring, so she turned away and let it fucking happen already.

Admitting defeat was rewarded with pulses spreading throughout the entire outfit. Each pulse shifted her towards a slightly different direction. That and the weight of the boots were the only reasons Keira hadn’t fallen over yet.

A face mask enveloped her lower face, a saving grace from a public indecency charge. Her eyes couldn’t focus, her body couldn’t resist, and moans of pleasure were now screams of pleasure, all barely heard outside the mask.

The collar locked shut around her neck, thicker than ever, unclaimed by blackness beneath. A solid loop of indestructible metal. Her new mesh sleeves received a similar pinnacle, with bracelets sealing themselves over her wrists.

The corset’s grip on her strengthened from strict to absolute. As the back laces made the sides join, a series of metal clasps secured it, so that they could never be apart again. To abandon all hope, the busk in the front did something similar, with the buttons pressing against their hooks, joining together in an unbreakable bond.

The heavy boots were up to her thighs, and their numerous clasps all clicked shut one after another, so that they could, too, exert pleasurable pressure all along Keira’s legs imprisoned by them. Their platform grew ever higher and chunkier, with heels more than 8 inches off the ground, but still stable enough to keep the girl up.

The leggings grew into her nethers and seized all power over her sexual desires, installing some coating over her precious G-spots, able to invoke them at will.

In a daze, Keira tried to wobble her way somewhere - anywhere from here, away from these good samaritans trying to approach her now that it was way too late to take any of her twisted garments off. The next thing she felt was a big, big impact.

The astounded public saw the bus hitting the newly goth’d girl, sending her fifteen feet forward. Keira rose right back up just a couple seconds later, with her hair straighter and darker than before. Her very presence was different now. The Enchanted outfit was very heavy, and yet it seemed to have granted her the strength to wield it. Now it was her turn to wear it, instead of it wearing her.

All the knowledge she once read about this subculture was rising up from haunting her core memories to blessing her conscience. Keira was stuck in this phase for a while now, but it came with boons as well. To defy standards. To defy gravity. To defy death itself.

As she marched gloriously away from the scene, the coating inside of her was getting brought back to warmth again. Now this... might still be quite a cross to bear.