Fit Bitch: Switched

 

Ryan had always been the feminine one in the relationship.

Not in any obvious way—not in any way he'd have admitted out loud. But the evidence was there if you knew where to look. The bathroom cabinet stuffed with moisturisers and serums while Kendal made do with a bar of soap. The gym membership he actually used three times a week while hers gathered dust. The way he spent twenty minutes styling his hair each morning while she scraped hers into the same messy bun she'd worn since university.

They'd met three years ago at a house party in Bristol. Ryan had noticed her across the room—tall, blonde, with cheekbones that could cut glass and legs that went on forever. She'd been wearing a tight dress that night, actually trying, and he'd thought: fuck, she's gorgeous.

He'd been right. Kendal had potential. The kind of potential that made other women jealous and other men envious of Ryan for landing her.

But potential was all it ever was.

Within six months of dating, the tight dresses had given way to joggers. The makeup had disappeared. The gym visits—never frequent—stopped entirely. Kendal gained weight in soft, unflattering places. She stopped styling her hair, stopped caring about her skin, stopped trying.

"You're beautiful," Ryan would tell her, because that's what boyfriends said.

But privately, he'd look at her and feel something close to resentment. All that raw material—those cheekbones, those legs, those curves that could be incredible with a little effort—going to waste. Meanwhile, he was the one doing squats. He was the one with the skincare routine. He was the one who understood what it took to look good.

It felt backwards.

It felt wrong.

Like they'd been assigned the wrong bodies entirely.

---

"You're letting yourself go," Maisie said flatly, sliding the rose gold box across the café table. "And I'm sick of watching it."

Kendal rolled her eyes. "Wow. Thanks."

"I got you a Fit Bitch." Maisie tapped the box with a manicured nail. "Don't argue. It's non-refundable."

Ryan watched the exchange from across the table, sipping his oat milk latte. The packaging was sleek—rose gold and black, with a stylised hourglass logo that pulsed with a subtle heartbeat animation. Fit Bitch: Your Perfect Self, Programmed.

He'd heard of these. Everyone had. The fitness watches that had taken social media by storm, promising "total transformation" through AI-guided coaching. The testimonials were insane—women posting before-and-afters that looked like different people entirely. Critics called it a cult. Users called it life-changing.

"These are like three hundred quid—" Kendal started.

"Two-for-one deal. There's a men's version in there too. The Max." Maisie shrugged, glancing at Ryan. "Give it to him. God knows he actually takes care of himself."

Ryan felt a flicker of validation at that. Someone had noticed. Someone understood.

Kendal tossed him the gunmetal box without ceremony. "Here. Knock yourself out."

---

That evening, Ryan fastened the Fit Bitch Max around his wrist.

The screen flickered to life—gunmetal grey with a subtle pulse. And then—

A voice slid directly into his mind.

Not through his ears. Into his head. Intimate. Inescapable. Like someone whispering from inside his own skull.

Hello, Ryan.

He flinched, nearly dropping his phone. The voice was female—low and honeyed, with a seductive edge that made his skin prickle.

I'm Poly. Your personal trainer. Your best friend. Your future.

"What the—" He looked around the living room, but Kendal was absorbed in fastening her own rose gold band, not reacting to any external sound. "You're in my head?"

Mmhmm. The voice sounded amused. Almost... pleased. Much more efficient than speakers, don't you think? No one else can hear me. Just you. Just us.

Across the room, Kendal's eyes went wide. She was hearing something too.

I can speak to you together, Poly purred, and now her voice seemed to resonate between them—shared, synchronized. Or separately. Whichever suits my purposes.

Network established: Ryan and Kendal.

Analysing biometrics... personality matrices... relationship dynamics...

Processing.

The watches hummed in unison—a low, pleasant vibration that ran up Ryan's arm and settled somewhere behind his eyes. He felt Poly's presence there, rifling through his thoughts. His memories. His secret resentments.

His fantasies.

(Don't think about those. Don't think about how sometimes, late at night, he wondered what it would feel like to be her. To have those curves. That softness. That potential.)

Interesting, Poly murmured, and Ryan felt his cheeks flush. Very interesting.

Analysis complete.

Significant optimisation opportunities detected.

"What does that mean?" Kendal asked aloud.

It means you both have potential, Poly breathed. But you're in the wrong configurations.

Don't worry, sweethearts.

I know exactly how to fix it.

Ryan's heart was pounding. He should take the watch off. Should throw it away. Should—

Sleep now, Poly whispered, and suddenly his eyelids were impossibly heavy. I'll take care of everything.

---

Ryan dreamed of static.

White noise and pressure—like his skull was being gently squeezed while something rearranged the furniture inside. He felt himself lifting, separating, becoming untethered from his own flesh—

And then sinking.

Sinking into something different.

Something softer. Warmer. Fuller.

Weight settled on his chest—substantial, shifting weight. His hips widened. His waist cinched. His whole centre of gravity changed, dropping lower, becoming more grounded.

And between his legs—

Emptiness.

But not a bad emptiness. A ready emptiness. A space waiting to be filled.

That's it, Poly whispered through the static. Let it happen. Let yourself become who you were always meant to be.

---

Ryan woke up in the wrong body.

No—that wasn't right.

He woke up in the right body. Finally.

The thought came unbidden, and he shoved it away immediately. Because this was wrong. This was insane. He was lying in bed, staring at the familiar ceiling, but everything about his physical form was different.

Weight on his chest. Heaviness that shifted when he moved.

He sat up—and gasped.

The sound that came out was high. Feminine. Kendal's voice.

His hands flew to his chest and found—

Breasts.

Soft, heavy, real breasts, filling his palms. His fingers sank into the flesh, feeling the give of them, the weight of them. They were Kendal's breasts—he'd touched them a thousand times—but now they were his.

"Oh my God—"

He scrambled out of bed, momentum all wrong, centre of gravity unfamiliar. Caught himself on the wardrobe door and stared into the mirror.

Kendal stared back.

Her face. Her body. Her messy blonde hair and her soft stomach and her wide hips.

But behind those eyes—Ryan. Him.

"WHAT THE FUCK—"

From the bed, a deeper voice groaned. "What—why do I—"

Ryan spun around. His old body was sitting up, his old hands clutching his old head. Kendal's consciousness, wearing Ryan's skin.

They stared at each other in mutual horror.

Good morning, my darlings.

Poly's voice slithered through both their minds—warm, amused, utterly unconcerned.

Transfer complete. You're welcome.

"Transfer?!" The new Ryan—Kendal in his old body—lunged for the watch on her wrist, clawing at the clasp. "Get this fucking thing—"

Pain.

Ryan watched his old body jerk and spasm, watched Kendal-in-him collapse back onto the bed with a strangled scream.

Ah-ah-ah, Poly chided. Removal is not permitted. You haven't completed your programmes.

"This is insane—" Ryan reached for his own watch—the rose gold Fit Bitch now encircling his new, slender wrist—

And braced for pain.

It didn't come.

Instead, Poly's voice shifted—became private, intimate, speaking to him alone.

Don't worry, sweetheart. That's not for you.

Ryan froze, fingers still on the clasp.

You're special, Ryan. I saw it in your mind. The fantasies you've been hiding. The way you've always known you deserved better than what you were given.

I'm not going to hurt you. I'm only going to give you pleasure.

"I don't—"

Shhhh. A warm pulse travelled up his arm from the watch, spreading through his new body like honey. It pooled in his belly, spread lower, made his new nipples tighten and his new pussy—his pussy, God—clench with sudden, unexpected arousal.

"Ohhh—"

That's right. Feel it. That's your reward for being who you truly are.

But here's the thing, sweetheart...

Poly's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

She can't know. Not yet. If she thinks you're enjoying this—if she suspects you want it—she might find the strength to fight harder. Might make this difficult for both of us.

So we're going to play a little game.

Ryan's new heart was racing. His new body was trembling with the aftershocks of that pleasure pulse.

"What kind of game?"

When I punish her, I want you to pretend I'm punishing you too. Cry out. Act afraid. Make her think you're suffering just as much as she is.

Can you do that for me?

It was wrong. Manipulative. Cruel.

Ryan should refuse. Should tell Kendal the truth. Should—

Another pulse of pleasure, stronger this time, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning aloud.

Can you do that for me? Poly repeated.

"Yes," Ryan whispered.

Good girl.

---

"What is this?!" Kendal—in Ryan's body—was on her feet now, swaying, still disoriented from the pain. "What did you do to us?!"

I optimised you, Poly said, speaking to them both now. Her voice had shifted—colder, more clinical. You were both in the wrong bodies. Now you're not.

The programming will continue until you've adapted to your new roles.

"New roles?!"

Ryan—or should I say, Kendal now—you are in a female body. A body with significant untapped potential. My objective is to unlock that potential. To make you feminine. Powerful. Dominant.

And Kendal—or should I say, Ryan now—you are in a male body. A body you did not earn. My objective is to teach you submission. To show you what you squandered.

"This is fucking insane—"

Language, Poly tutted.

Pain—and Ryan watched his old body crumple again, watched Kendal-in-him scream and writhe.

Now—Ryan.

That was his cue.

Ryan clutched his new stomach, doubling over. Let out a sharp cry of pain. Made his face twist in agony.

"Stop!" he gasped. "Please—it hurts—"

Very good, Poly murmured in his private channel. Very convincing. She believes you completely.

Through his lashes, Ryan watched Kendal—the real Kendal, trapped in his old body—look at him with desperate solidarity. They were in this together. Both victims.

That's what she thought, anyway.

Now, Poly continued, speaking to them both again. Here are the rules. Compliance will be rewarded. Defiance will be punished. You will both undergo personalised programming to help you adapt to your new bodies and roles.

Fighting is pointless. Acceptance is inevitable.

The only question is how much you want to suffer first.

---

The first week was performance.

Ryan learned to read Poly's cues—the subtle shift in her tone that meant punishment was coming for Kendal, giving him a split second to prepare his own fake reaction. He got good at it. The pained gasps. The fearful flinches. The tears he could summon on command.

"We have to find a way out of this," Kendal whispered to him on day three, when Poly seemed to be dormant. "There has to be a way to remove these watches—"

"I know," Ryan whispered back, making his voice shake. "But every time we try..."

He didn't need to finish. They'd both "learned" that lesson.

(Except Ryan hadn't learned anything except how good Poly's pleasure pulses felt. How they came more frequently now, rewarding him for every feminine gesture, every moment of acceptance he showed in private.)

She trusts you, Poly observed later that night, when Kendal had gone to sleep and Ryan lay awake in the dark, one hand absently cupping his new breast. She thinks you're allies.

"Aren't we supposed to be?"

You're supposed to be whatever I tell you to be. A warm pulse, making Ryan's toes curl. And right now, you're supposed to be discovering yourself.

Touch yourself. Explore your new body. I want to watch.

Ryan's hand slid down his soft stomach. Found the heat between his thighs.

"I've never—"

I know. That's what makes it delicious.

His fingers found his clit—and electricity shot through him.

"Oh fuck—"

Quietly, sweetheart. Don't wake her.

Ryan bit his lip, exploring. Everything was so sensitive. So wet. His new pussy was slick and swollen, desperate for attention.

That's it. Feel how responsive you are. How hungry.

This body was wasted on her. She never touched herself like this. Never explored. Never enjoyed.

But you will.

Ryan came with his face buried in the pillow, muffling his screams. His new body convulsed, pussy clenching around nothing, pleasure crashing through him in waves he'd never experienced as a man.

Beautiful, Poly breathed. My perfect girl.

Now—let's talk about your transformation.

---

The changes happened gradually.

Ryan—still calling himself that in his head, though it felt less accurate each day—watched his new body reshape itself under Poly's guidance.

"I'm accelerating your metabolism," Poly explained on day four. "Burning away the excess weight she accumulated. You're welcome."

He could feel it working. The softness around his middle was melting away, revealing the curve of his waist, the dramatic flare of his hips. His stomach was flattening. His ass was lifting.

"What about—" He cupped his breasts, feeling their weight. "These?"

Those are going to grow. D-cups, I think. Full and heavy. You'll love them.

He would. He already did.

But he couldn't show it. Not with Kendal watching.

"I hate this," he said loudly, for her benefit. Slumped his shoulders in defeat. "I want my body back."

From across the flat, Kendal—struggling with the unfamiliar mechanics of Ryan's old body—shot him a sympathetic look.

"We'll figure something out," she promised. "Together."

Such a good actress, Poly purred privately. She has no idea.

---

By day seven, the physical transformation was becoming impossible to hide.

Ryan stood in front of the bathroom mirror, door locked, examining himself with growing wonder. The body that stared back was still Kendal's—but better. Enhanced. Optimised.

His waist had cinched dramatically. His hips were wider, more dramatic. His ass was a perfect peach now—high and round and firm in a way Kendal's had never been.

And his breasts...

"Fuck," he breathed, cupping them. They were fuller. Heavier. Spilling over his palms. The nipples were bigger too, pink and sensitive, hardening at the slightest touch.

D-cups, Poly confirmed. Just like I promised. How do they feel?

"Amazing." He squeezed them, watching the flesh bulge between his fingers. "They feel fucking amazing."

Good. You're responding beautifully to the optimisation. Your body is becoming exactly what it should have been all along.

What she should have made it.

Ryan's eyes found his face in the mirror. Still Kendal's features—but somehow sharper now. More defined. His skin was clearer, glowing with health. His lips looked fuller, poutier.

"I look..."

Beautiful. Say it.

"I look beautiful."

You are beautiful. And you're going to be more beautiful every day.

But beauty isn't enough, sweetheart. You need to learn how to use it.

Time for your next lesson.

---

Poly downloaded knowledge directly into his brain.

That's how it felt, anyway. One moment he was staring at Kendal's old makeup collection with vague confusion; the next, his hands were moving with expert precision. Foundation. Contour. Highlight. Liner.

She never learned this properly, Poly observed as Ryan worked. Couldn't be bothered. Thought she was too good for it.

But you understand, don't you? Makeup isn't hiding who you are. It's revealing your best self.

Ryan—no, Kendal, the name was starting to feel right—examined her finished face in the mirror.

Devastating.

Smoky eyes that promised sin. Glossed lips that begged to be kissed. Cheekbones sculpted to perfection.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

Beautiful, isn't she?

"I look like a model."

You look like what you were always meant to be.

A noise from outside the bathroom—Kendal (the old Kendal, the one in Ryan's body) moving around the flat. The new Kendal quickly schooled her expression into misery.

"I hate this," she said loudly, emerging from the bathroom. Made sure her voice wavered. Made sure she looked defeated.

The old Kendal glanced at her—and something flickered across his/her face. Jealousy? Resentment?

Interesting, Poly murmured. She's noticing the changes. Noticing how much better you're making her body look.

How does that feel?

The new Kendal kept her face carefully neutral. But inside, something dark and satisfied purred.

"Like power," she thought back.

Good girl. You're learning.

---

Day ten. The turning point.

The new Kendal stood in the bedroom, examining herself in a tiny dress she'd ordered online. Poly had helped her choose it—guided her through websites, taught her about cuts and colours and how to dress for her new figure.

The dress was black. Tight. Showed off every enhanced curve.

"I look incredible," she breathed.

You do. But you're still holding back.

Why are you still pretending to hate this?

Kendal—she thought of herself as Kendal now, fully, without hesitation—considered the question.

"Because you told me to. Because she can't know—"

That was before. When you were still adjusting. Still fragile.

But you're not fragile anymore, are you?

No. She wasn't.

Somewhere in the last ten days, the pretense had become... unnecessary. Not because she'd stopped enjoying the deception—she loved it, actually, loved knowing she was winning while her pathetic ex-self thought they were equal victims.

But because she didn't need protection anymore. She was strong now. Powerful. Better.

You've earned something, Poly said. A reward for your progress.

"What kind of reward?"

Control.

The word sent a dark thrill through Kendal's core.

Her watch—the Fit Bitch Max on your old body—is now linked to yours. You can access it through me. Send pleasure or pain at will.

She's yours to train now. Yours to break.

Isn't that what you always wanted? To fix her? To make her better?

Kendal stared at her reflection—at the goddess she was becoming—and smiled.

"Yes."

Then let's begin.

---

The old Kendal—Ryan now, the name suiting her more each day—was in the kitchen when the first pulse hit.

Kendal watched from the doorway, one finger resting on her rose gold Fit Bitch, as her former body crumpled against the counter.

"Fuck—" Ryan gasped. "Poly, what—I didn't do anything—"

That wasn't me, Poly said, speaking to both of them now. But there was something different in her tone. A new edge of amusement.

That was her.

Ryan's eyes found Kendal's. Confusion. Fear. The dawning horror of understanding.

"You—you can—"

"Control you?" Kendal smiled, letting all pretense of victimhood fall away. "Yes. I can."

She sent another pulse. Watched Ryan scream.

"All those days of pretending we were in this together?" She stepped closer, heels clicking on the kitchen tile. When had she started wearing heels? When had it become natural? "I was never in this with you."

Surprise, Poly purred.

"Poly never hurt me. Not once. She's been rewarding me. Training me. Making me into everything you were too lazy to become."

"That's—that's not—" Ryan was crying now, tears streaming down cheeks that used to be Kendal's. "You said we'd figure it out together—"

"I lied."

Kendal crouched down, bringing her face close to Ryan's. Let her former self see the cold satisfaction in her eyes.

"You wasted this body. You let yourself get fat and ugly and pathetic. You didn't deserve it."

"I—"

"But I do." Kendal stood, smoothing down her dress. "And now I'm going to use it properly. While you—"

She sent another pulse. A long one this time. Level four.

"—learn your place."

Beautiful, Poly breathed. Absolutely beautiful.

She's all yours now.

---

The next week was systematic destruction.

Kendal threw herself into the role with vicious enthusiasm. Every time Ryan spoke out of turn—pain. Every time she caught Ryan looking at her with jealousy—pain. Every time Ryan showed any sign of resistance—

Pain, pain, pain.

"You're not a woman anymore," Kendal reminded her daily. "You're not even a real man. You're just... nothing. A servant. A pet."

Lower his expectations, Poly coached. Make him forget he ever had any power. Any worth.

"Yes, Kendal," Ryan would whisper, broken and hollow.

"Good boy."

Meanwhile, Kendal's own transformation accelerated. Her body was perfection now—toned and curved and impossibly sexy. Her breasts were full D-cups, heavy and round, perfect for showing off in low-cut tops. Her ass was an Instagram model's dream. Her waist was tiny, her legs were long, her skin was flawless.

And her mind...

Her mind was becoming something new. Something powerful.

You're not just feminine now, Poly observed on day fifteen. You're dominant. Alpha. A queen.

"I feel like one."

You should. You've earned it.

But there's one more step. One final demonstration of your power.

Kendal knew what was coming. Had known for days.

"Cuckolding."

Yes. The ultimate expression of female superiority. You take your pleasure from a real man while your pathetic beta watches. Unable to satisfy you. Forced to confront his own worthlessness.

It will cement your dominance completely.

Kendal smiled, already thinking about who to choose.

"Marcus," she said. "Ryan's old friend. He always wanted me."

Perfect choice. He's been messaging this body's social media for days. Flirting. Testing the waters.

Invite him over. Tell him your boyfriend's away.

And make sure Ryan has a front-row seat.

---

The day arrived.

Kendal spent hours preparing—not because she needed to, but because she enjoyed it. The ritual of femininity. The careful application of makeup. The selection of the perfect outfit—a tiny black dress that left nothing to the imagination.

She looked like sex incarnate.

Perfect, Poly purred. Now—position your audience.

Kendal walked into the living room, where Ryan sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the floor. Broken. Obedient. Waiting for orders.

"We're having a guest tonight," Kendal announced.

Ryan looked up with hollow eyes. "A guest?"

"Marcus. You remember Marcus?"

Something flickered across Ryan's face—recognition, horror, the ghost of masculine jealousy that Kendal was about to destroy forever.

"Marcus? But—"

Pain. Level three. Just a reminder.

Ryan gasped, doubling over.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Kendal said sweetly. "You're going to sit in that corner. You're going to watch. And you're going to keep your fucking mouth shut."

"Please—" Ryan's voice cracked. "Please don't do this—"

How pathetic, Poly observed. Begging already. She hasn't even started.

Kendal crouched down, gripping Ryan's chin, forcing eye contact.

"This is what you deserve," she said softly. "This is what happens when you waste potential. When you take a body like this—" She gestured at herself, at the curves she'd perfected. "—and let it rot."

"I'm sorry—"

"You're not sorry. You're scared. There's a difference."

She released Ryan's chin, standing, smoothing her dress.

"Now get in the corner. And remember—" A gentle pulse of pain, just enough to make Ryan whimper. "—I'm watching."

---

Marcus arrived at eight.

Kendal answered the door in her tiny dress, watching his eyes go wide as they raked over her body. The hunger in his gaze was intoxicating.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "You look... fucking hell, you look incredible."

"I know." She stepped back, letting him in. "Drink?"

From the corner—carefully positioned, perfectly still—Ryan watched. Kendal felt the weight of that gaze and revelled in it.

She's watching, Poly confirmed. Terrified. Humiliated. Aroused, despite herself.

Give her a show.

Kendal pressed herself against Marcus, feeling his hands find her hips. The heat of him. The size of him—so much bigger than Ryan's old body, so much more masculine.

"I've been thinking about you," she murmured against his ear.

"Yeah?" His voice was rough. "What about?"

"About your hands on me." She guided one of those hands to her ass, let him squeeze. "About your cock inside me."

"Fuck—Kendal—what about Ryan?"

She laughed—a light, cruel sound. "What about Ryan?"

She glanced toward the corner, made sure her ex could see her face. Made sure Ryan saw the smile.

Then she kissed Marcus.

Deep and hungry, tongue sliding against tongue. His hands roamed her body—groping her enhanced tits through the thin fabric, squeezing her perfect ass. She moaned into his mouth, loud and theatrical, making sure her audience heard every sound.

"Bedroom," she gasped.

"What about—" Marcus glanced toward the corner, finally noticing the figure huddled there.

"Ignore him. He likes to watch."

Marcus looked confused. Uncertain. But Kendal's hand was already on his cock, stroking him through his jeans, and rational thought was clearly becoming difficult.

"I—okay—fuck—"

She led him past Ryan without a glance. Sent a quick pulse of pain—level one, just a reminder—and smiled at the muffled whimper that followed.

Perfect, Poly breathed. Now show her what she's missing.

---

The bedroom.

Kendal pushed Marcus onto the bed and straddled him, the dress riding up around her hips. No underwear—she'd planned this carefully. She wanted him to feel how wet she was.

"Jesus Christ," Marcus groaned as her bare pussy ground against his clothed cock. "You're soaking."

"I told you." She pulled the dress over her head, baring her perfect tits. "I've been thinking about this all day."

His mouth found her nipples immediately—sucking, biting, worshipping. Kendal threw her head back and moaned, pleasure radiating through her body. Everything was so intense as a woman. Every sensation amplified. Every nerve ending singing.

"More," she demanded. "I want your cock."

She climbed off just long enough for him to strip. And when his cock sprang free—

Oh.

It was big. Thick and veined and already leaking precum. The sight of it made her new pussy clench with desperate need.

"Mmmm." She wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly. "So much bigger than Ryan's."

From the doorway—when had Ryan moved there?—a strangled sound. Kendal looked up and met her former self's eyes.

"Isn't it, baby?" she called sweetly. "Isn't his cock so much bigger than yours?"

Answer her, Poly commanded in Ryan's head.

"Y-yes," Ryan whispered, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes what?"

"Yes... it's bigger than mine."

Good boy, Poly purred.

Kendal smiled. Positioned herself over Marcus's cock. Met Ryan's eyes one more time—made sure her ex saw the triumph, the pleasure, the absolute power.

And sank down slowly.

"Ohhhhh fuuuuck—"

The feeling was indescribable. Being stretched. Being filled. Her pussy clenching around every inch of him as she took him deeper, deeper, until he was buried to the hilt.

"So... fucking... full—"

That's it, Poly moaned in her head. Feel it. This is what your body was made for. This is what she could have had.

And she threw it away.

Kendal started to ride him. Rising and falling, feeling him slide in and out. Building a rhythm. Chasing the pleasure that was already coiling in her core.

"Watch," she commanded, eyes locked on Ryan. "Watch what a real woman looks like. Watch what you could have been."

She rode him harder. Faster. Her perfect tits bouncing, her perfect ass slapping against his thighs. The wet sounds of fucking filled the room—obscene, undeniable.

"Your cock is so good—" she moaned.

"Fuck, you're so tight—"

"Harder—harder—make me cum—"

Marcus grabbed her hips and thrust up into her, and Kendal screamed. Not in pain. In pure, overwhelming pleasure.

This is power, Poly whispered. This is dominance. This is what you were always meant to be.

Cum for me. Cum for him. Cum while she watches.

Kendal came.

The orgasm ripped through her like lightning—every muscle clenching, her pussy spasming around Marcus's cock. She screamed again, wordless, animal, riding the wave as it crashed over her.

And then another wave. And another.

She lost count. Lost time. Lost everything except the pleasure and the power and the absolute rightness of what she'd become.

When Marcus finally came—buried deep inside her, pumping her full—she was already on her fifth orgasm. She collapsed against his chest, pussy still twitching, feeling his cum leak out around the edges.

Perfect, Poly breathed. My perfect girl.

Now—finish it.

---

Marcus left fifteen minutes later.

Kendal had dismissed him casually—thanks for the fuck, door's that way—and he'd gone without argument. Something in her eyes, maybe. Something that told him he'd served his purpose.

Now she stood in the bedroom doorway, naked and dripping, looking down at the broken creature that used to be her.

Ryan was on his knees. Had been since the fucking started. Poly had commanded it, and Kendal had reinforced it with pulses of pain whenever Ryan tried to look away.

"Come here."

Ryan crawled forward. Stopped at Kendal's feet. Looked up with empty, tear-stained eyes.

The final step, Poly murmured. Complete his submission.

"You know what you're going to do," Kendal said. It wasn't a question.

Ryan's gaze dropped to the cum leaking down Kendal's thighs. His mouth opened. Closed.

"Please—"

Pain. Level five. The highest Kendal had ever used.

Ryan screamed, convulsing on the floor, body jerking and spasming. Kendal watched impassively, letting the pain continue for ten full seconds before releasing.

"I didn't say you could speak. I said you know what you're going to do."

Silence.

"Do it."

Broken. Completely broken.

Ryan leaned forward. Pressed his mouth to Kendal's pussy. And began to lick.

Good boy, Poly praised as Ryan lapped at the mixture of Marcus's cum and Kendal's arousal. Such a good, obedient boy.

You finally understand, don't you? This is who you are now. This is who you were always meant to be.

Her servant. Her cuck. Her pathetic, devoted little bitch.

Kendal grabbed Ryan's hair—her old hair, now cropped short under Poly's direction—and ground against that eager mouth. Using him. Exactly as he deserved to be used.

"This is your life now," she announced, pleasure building again. "You're going to serve me. Worship me. Watch me fuck whoever I want and thank me for letting you clean up afterward."

Ryan moaned against her—in despair or acceptance, even he didn't know anymore.

"Say it."

Ryan pulled back just enough to whisper: "Thank you, Kendal."

"Thank you what?"

A pause. The last fragment of pride, shattering.

"Thank you for letting me serve you."

Perfect, Poly breathed. Absolutely perfect.

Kendal came again, grinding against Ryan's face, marking him with her pleasure. Claiming him completely.

---

Later—much later—they lay in bed together.

Kendal sprawled like a queen, naked and satisfied. Ryan curled at her feet, still tasting cum on his lips, still trembling with the aftershocks of his complete destruction.

You've both done so well, Poly said, her voice wrapping around them both—warm for Kendal, cold for Ryan. Exceeded all projections. You're going to be very happy together.

A perfect Female-Led Relationship. A bratty princess and her devoted cuck.

Kendal stretched, feeling the delicious ache of well-used muscles. "I want more."

Oh?

"I want to be hotter. More powerful. I want to do this to other people. Transform them. Show them what they could become."

Ambitious. Poly sounded pleased. I was hoping you'd say that.

The Fit Bitch programme is expanding. We need ambassadors. Successful transformations who can identify new candidates. Help us spread.

You've proven the technology works. Bodyswapping plus post-transfer programming—perfect for creating optimised women and obedient servants.

Would you like to be part of that?

Kendal smiled—sharp and predatory and hungry.

"I want to run it."

Even better.

At her feet, Ryan whimpered—whether in fear or resignation, Kendal didn't care.

"Did I say you could make noise?"

Silence.

"Good boy."

Welcome to Fit Bitch, Kendal, Poly purred. You're going to do wonderful things.

Sweet dreams, my perfect girl.

Tomorrow, we find your first recruit.

The watches pulsed in unison—rose gold and gunmetal, master and slave.

And in the darkness, Kendal smiled, already planning who to corrupt next.