๐๐ฉท Spilling the Beans
Added 2025-03-22 00:33:04 +0000 UTCThey spoke in confidence, at first.
One sat high, old money in his spine. The other, younger, sharpened by charts and caffeine.
Meme stock volatility was, quote, "just the dumb herd trying to touch the sky."
Their words bounced clean off the wallsโsterile, slick, approved.
But the room was already tilting. They didnโt notice.
Then the assistant entered.
He wasn't on the calendar. He wasnโt dressed correctly.
His eyes sparkled with something off, something wet.
His shirt stuck to his chest like silk to nectar.
His breathing glitched.
His smile bloomed.
He was leaking pleasure into the air, and the table knew it first.
The older one saw the sweat-dark fabric stretch.
The expanding swell underneath.
The laugh that wasnโt laughter.
The scent. The warmth. The mistake.
Then it was happeningโhe undid everything.
Button by button. Layer by layer. Shame was a memory.
His tie hit the floor with reverence.
His body bloomed. Breasts emerged. Laughed. Danced. Dripped.
The glass walls warped.
The pole rose.
The younger one gasped something that sounded like a number, but it melted in his mouth.
His portfolio emptied itself onto the floor.
The sound of wealth dying was a sweet rhythm.
The table pulsed.
He reached up without knowing why.
And outsideโฆ
The top of the tower began to change shape.
Pink light. Soft geometry. Something organic spreading over the antenna.
A signal. A beacon. A mouth.
She had touched the summit.
And the summit would never recover.
๐ฐ Chapter 1 โ House Bunny
an active infection inside the tower
It started when the money hit the floor.
The one they called an assistant now bent the boardroom with every sway.
But when the cash began to spill from the younger managerโs pockets, the room tilted.
The numbers gave up.
The screens blinked pink.
The carpet softened into velvet, and the pole didnโt stop rising.
She wasnโt just performing nowโshe was extracting.
Skin shifting into ash-glazed lavender.
Eyes, bottomless.
Desire wrapped around her like steam, and all it did was reflect his own back at him.
He laughed.
He blushed.
He reached for her like he used to reach for buyouts.
And didnโt realize what he was becoming.
The cash rained harderโhis own, but he didnโt remember.
He crawled for it.
Clutched it.
Licked it.
His blazer shrank, his shirt vanished, his legs opened.
A tail grew.
Ears twitched.
And by the time the transformation reached his lips, he was giggling.
Bunny. Girl. House-owned.
She danced. He obeyed.
He called her Mistress without knowing why.
He begged for tips he used to control.
The boardroom was now a strip-club simulation of itself.
The stock market was still openโbut only in his head.
And above it all, in the glowing pink up above,
someone else was watching.
๐๐ Chapter 2 โ Margin Called
He didnโt fall like the other one.
She leaned over him, all lashes and giggles, but her charm couldnโt close the deal.
He blinked.
Stumbled.
Ran.
The boardroom door swung wide and the hallway beyond was no longer architectureโit was a corridor of pink light and dripping numbers, gilded in his own wealth, raining down like petals.
His stocks.
His savings.
His name, folded into invoices that fluttered at his feet.
At the far end:
a man. Or a woman. Or a joke made by the market itself.
Sharp suit. Soft smile. Lantern-lit eyes.
โRough day?โ he asked, like it mattered.
And then came the bratty pull. The pink fog.
And the office.
It was hisโat least, it had been.
But now it was arranged differently. Neatly. Softly.
Like a girl lived here.
She was waiting at his desk.
Long blonde hair. Fitted top. Pink lips curled in praise.
โYou did so well on your last exam.
Daddy must be so proud.โ
He laughed. Or tried to.
She already had his portfolio up.
His passwords slid from his mouth like gumdrops.
He didnโt know when he started sitting straighter.
Or why his tie felt so tight and cute.
She leaned forward.
He stared.
He listened.
He obeyed.
They sat across from each other in silence.
The documents glowed.
Her voice wrapped around his throat like a ribbon.
She said she would help.
And in the final camera frame, heโs back at his desk.
The room is quiet.
The documents are signed.His suit fits differently.
The window shows nothing but pink.
A schoolbag leans against the wall.Heโs smiling.
But itโs not his smile anymore.
