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Theresa Moore smiled anxiously out at the crowd, hoping that someone would understand the reference she just made. Honestly it wasn’t like 1800s European socioeconomic trends were that obscure of a reference, right?

Unfortunately for her, it seemed they were. The group she was presenting to barely batted an eyelash, the lot of them staring at her blankly. Theresa did her best not to sigh, hating the fact that she had to do this. She was great with people one-on-one, but talking to a crowd? Not really her forte.

Of course the woman who put her on stage this had to have known that; how could she not? Theresa sent an angry glare to Gabrielle LeBeaux, the source of her many numerous headaches, and also the reason why she was standing on a podium in a short cocktail dress that barely contained her F-cup breasts.

And the worst part their arrangement was that Theresa couldn’t refuse the Frenchwoman even if she wanted to. Gabrielle was a witch, and a powerful one at that. Theresa had experienced her powers firsthand, transforming into a lusty frog-girl and even a full frog at times. Her large breasts were a reminder of the power Gabrielle held over her, and Theresa detested the woman for it.

Gabrielle used Theresa like a pawn, having her do the woman’s dirty work. From transforming others into frogs to amusing Gabrielle when the witch got bored, Theresa had been subjected to all manner of changes and sensations. Not that she hated them; some were better than others. But the low points of Gabrielle’s enslavement were enough to sour the memories of these, and tonight was the lowest of the low: a charity dinner.

Theresa cleared her throat, trying again. “After all, we must remember that with an impoverished lower class, our middle class will suffer as well. We simply need a few donations in order to keep ourselves from regressing to a feudal hierarchy, and if we all contribute now, our futures could be saved.”

Finally, someone bit at the conversational hook she’d thrown out. “I’m sorry, but I simply do not see how we can do this! We’ve tried raising the minimum wage and that brings us nowhere!” He was a pudgy old man, a monocle fixed on one eye as though he wished to return to the early 1900s.

“Of course raising the minimum wage won’t fix anything. We do that and all of the big businesses lay off a crop of workers; and small-town shops find themselves unable to meet their current requires salary. All we’re doing right now is plugging our ears instead of listening to the problem.” Theresa spoke calmly, in her element.

“Oh? And what’s that?” The man challenged her, as though he didn’t expect her to have a response.

Theresa smirked. Who did he think he was dealing with? “The current problem is both with our educational system and our penal system. Our schools are rapidly going downhill; we’ve abolished trade classes in general education; and we don’t really seem to care about people who slip through the cracks.

“They naturally turn to crime, and get put in adult time-out for doing so. I say we find a way to have prisoners earn the food our taxes pay for; the shelter we provide them instead of our homeless. I say we challenge them with physical work or mental work; make them pay off their debts by either doing labor or by getting an education; the kind of education that can keep them from returning to petty crime.” She finished her speech with a smug look on her face, daring him to find fault with what she said.

Instead, he simply scowled and replied, “You know, for tonight’s entertainment; you’re not very entertaining.”

“What, you want me to tell jokes?” Theresa scowled at him, crossing her arms. “Would that make you feel better about all of the nothing you’re doing for your children’s future?”

“I don’t have children!” He glared at her, his face beginning to redden.

“I wonder why.” Theresa knew that antagonizing him wasn’t the smartest thing to do; but hell, it was Gabrielle’s event, anyways! Besides that, she was having fun for the first time since she’d gotten here.

The old man sputtered indignantly, his monocle falling from his face as his eyes widened. “Well, I—I! What is the meaning of this? Who put you up here?” He stood, looking to the crowd. “Who thought that this so-called lawyer should be allowed to talk to me like this?”

Gabrielle stood, looking at Theresa with a frown on her face. “I did. And she’s only going to talk for a little bit longer.”

Theresa’s heart sank as she realized that she’d overstepped her bounds, and Gabrielle was now willing to do whatever it took to entertain the crowd. Her hands instinctively lifted to cover her breasts as she tried to silently cool Gabrielle down.

Of course, it didn’t work in the slightest. The Frenchwoman cleared her throat loudly, ensuring all eyes in the room were on here. “Ladies and esteemed gentlemen, have you ever heard of ‘The Frog Prince’? Well, Theresa here happens to be a bona-fide frog princess!”

Theresa moaned as her skin began to grow damp with sweat, an unnatural sheen coating her as her flesh turned a vibrant green. She looked down to her hand and frowned as the webbing between her fingers extended slightly; her digits losing their creamy color.

Then she looked up to the crowd, expecting them to begin to panic. But much to her surprise, they were all watching intently, their eyes wide and small murmurs beginning to pass through their ranks.

“It must be some sort of magic show; wouldn’t you think?”

“I’ve never seen such a good effect before! This is quite well done!”

“Well, no wonder she was such a bitch—the best jesters are always the unsympathetic ones!”

Jesters? Who the hell talked like that? Theresa opened her mouth to snap at the audience, but before she got the chance Gabrielle began to speak again.

“Theresa is indeed tonight’s entertainment! A show of transformation and exultation that you’ve never seen before, and never will see again!” Gabrielle winked to the crowd, as though suggesting it was really just a magic trick. “Please, give it up for Toady Theresa, the one-and-only frog lady!”

Theresa scowled as they began to applaud, and she glared at Gabrielle. “Fu-ROOACK!” Her cheeks bulged widely as her insult was lost to a loud frog’s croak, and the layer cursed having met the Frenchwoman in the first place.

“Aw, no need to be shy for everyone, Theresa! Why don’t you try a few tongue-twisters; amuse our crowd!” Gabrielle smirked, the look in her eye telling Theresa she understood completely how the lawyer felt—and would do nothing about it save make it worse.

Theresa sighed, giving up. This wasn’t a smart battle to fight, and if she tried to protest any further, she would only dig herself a deeper hole. “She sells seashells by the seashorrrribbit!” She croaked loudly at the end of it, beginning to blush as the crowd laughed.

Theresa had never told anyone, but she used to have a lisp in primary school. She’d undergone years of speech therapy to make sure that she’d have an eloquent future, so losing control of her voice in public like this was her own private hell.

She didn’t know how, but somehow Gabrielle had found out about it. The woman grinned maliciously at Theresa, looking to the crowd. “Now come on, I think you can do better than that! Try it again!”

Theresa sighed, her brow furrowing as she concentrated on speaking. “She thells theathells…” She trailed off, a mad blush running across her cheeks as her tongue started to swell in her mouth. It gave her an uncontrollable lisp, and Theresa shivered with humiliation.

“Finish it!” Gabrielle demanded, and Theresa whimpered as she began to speak again.

“By the theathaagn!” She yelped as her tongue violently expanded, drooping down past her lips to hang low on her chin. “Thorribbit!” She yelped desperately, hoping that it would be enough to sate Gabrielle’s thirst for transformation.

She should have known better. Gabrielle smirked at Theresa as she spoke again, her tone deceptively innocent. “Now say ‘I saw Susie sitting in a shoe shine shop! Where she sits she shines, and where she shines she sits’!”

Theresa could have cried. “I thaw Thuthie thitting in…” She whimpered slightly, her tongue growing ever-longer, beginning to drip froggy drool onto the podium. Theresa felt just like that kid with the speech impediment again, a nightmare that she didn’t ever want to relive. “Uhribbit thoe thine thop! Whayribbit! Thee thits thee thines and whayrrrrribbit! Whayribbbit!”

Theresa’s head jerked forwards as a croaking spree began to take hold of her, and she fought it back desperately, trying to finish the stupid tongue-twister in hopes that that would be enough to sate Gabrielle’s cruel appetite.

“Aw, not so lippy now, are we?” Gabrielle cooed mockingly, a grin on her face as she chuckled. The woman’s tone took on a much harder note as she fixed Theresa with a stern glare. “Now finish your tongue-twister so we can see if the audience likes it.”

Theresa looked pleadingly to the crowd, realizing her mistake in alienating them earlier that night. She received only looks of amusement in response, and the woman fought back tears of desperation. If that’s the way they wanted it, then she might as well face this with some poise. This wasn’t anything to freak out about; only her worst fears made manifest.

“Where thee thines thee thits.” Theresa finished, looking challengingly at the crowd. Her tongue had lengthened to the point where it now sat between her breasts, and she bit back the impulse to give her nipples a congratulatory lick.

“Oh, well done! Well done!” Gabrielle clapped slowly, the smile on her face telling Theresa that today’s ordeals were far from over. “But I think, with the benefit of hindsight, that tongue twisters aren’t very froggy…”

Theresa’s eye twitched slightly, her anger rising only to fall a moment later as she realized she had full control of her tongue again. She slurped it back into her mouth and glared at Gabrielle, wondering what further indignity the woman could have planned.

She didn’t need to wait long for an answer, as Gabrielle pulled out a small jar filled with flies. Theresa immediately recognized it from one of the private humiliations the witch had forced upon her. Evidently those were just practice, a warm up for today.

“So… How about we see how well our frog can catch flies?” Gabrielle looked to Theresa with a sharp glance that went unnoticed by the crowd.

Theresa had to gulp nervously, realizing she had no other choice. It wasn’t like flies tasted bad—Gabrielle at least was kind enough to alter her taste buds and make the little insects a delectable treat. The real problem was that eating them in front of such a crowd would be humiliating, especially for a woman like Theresa.

But when the alternative was upsetting Gabrielle… Theresa did her best not to blush as she bulged up her cheeks. “Ribbit!” She croaked, hoping the Frenchwoman would see Theresa was trying to thank her for being the master of her own tongue. “Does that make anyone else hungribbit?” She croaked again, hamming it up.

It was a poor performance, bad enough to even make B-movie actors blush. But it seemed to be entertaining enough for the gathered donors, who clapped with approval.

Gabrielle grinned from ear to ear, nodding a silent thanks to Theresa. Then she quickly lifted the top, sending one of the flies towards the somewhat froggy girl.

Theresa wondered if the creature had once been a person, and if this was Gabrielle’s personal revenge against who the fly had been. Then she realized it really didn’t matter; that fly needed to die if she wanted to remain as little changed as possible.

She glared up at the fly, judging the distance. She just had to twitch a certain muscle in her jaw, and… Theresa opened her mouth, head moving back slightly as her tongue whipped past her lips into the air. It almost missed the fly, but thankfully her tongue was sticky enough that it snared one of the bug’s wings.

Theresa mentally brace herself as she retracted her tongue, moving her head forward in case the fly dislodged itself. With an audible popping sound, she caught the bug in her law, crunching down on it and then swallowing it whole.

That was the trick to it, both in keeping up appearances and in managing the texture. Flies were rich enough in flavor that Theresa needed only one bite to get enough juices to appease her taste buds, making the experience almost enjoyable.

At least, normally it would be almost enjoyable. But now she was at the mercy of a crowd of enthused donors, who all seemed to be more than taken in by her amphibian action. They applauded heartily, a cheer breaking out from some of them.

“Oh, but if you think that’s the show, tonight’s fun is only beginning.” Gabrielle grinned up to Theresa, tilting her head slightly to the right.

Theresa followed her gaze subtly, seeing a young donor staring at her massive breasts openly. Apparently they’d jiggled quite a bit when Theresa had caught the fly in her mouth, and he was unable to divert his attention from her pendulous bosom.

Theresa had to keep herself from sniggering at the thought of someone finding her attractive in this form, but was unable to keep a coquettish giggle from escaping her lips. Thankfully, the man seemed to take this in a positive manner, leaning forward as Theresa’s laugh shook her chest gently.

She smirked at him enticingly, wondering how risqué this crowd was. She wouldn’t know without trying, so Theresa let her tongue slip from her mouth, trailing it along her slick skin and making the skin atop her breasts glisten.

It had the intended effect, the man breaking into a coughing fit of embarrassment. He drew the room’s attention to himself in doing so, though Theresa’s hypnotic breasts seemed to be distracting him from noticing their stares.

Theresa beamed with delight, looking back to Gabrielle to find her smiling as well. That left Theresa’s heart in a vise: a smile on Gabrielle’s face could only mean one thing for Theresa.

Sure enough, Theresa’s breasts began to ache, and a small moan escaped her mouth as they started to expand. She looked down as they began to swell with thick fat, growing easily out until her dress struggled to hold her G-cups.

And of course it didn’t stop there. Her breasts kept growing larger and larger, and Theresa felt a familiar sense of horror as she realized she didn’t know when her changes were going to stop. But why would Gabrielle choose to change her now; it wasn’t like…

Theresa paused her train of thought, looking to the young man to find his face was a beet-red. Sweat beaded his forehead and his mouth was actually slightly slack, something Theresa had never seen outside of television.

The woman chuckled; then groaned as the motion caused her breasts to swell larger, beginning to tear at her top. The flimsy plastic of her bra snapped, alleviating some of the tension, but it wasn’t enough to keep her chest from wishing to be free of the dress.

And enough to keep her from wishing that she wasn’t changing. Theresa moaned as she grabbed her hefty breasts in her hands, trying to keep them from expanding further. Her actions were in vain, only letting her feel more soft and supple flesh welling up between her fingers.

“Nnh!” She moaned, opening her mouth to beg Gabrielle to stop. Then she realized that the woman’s friends probably didn’t know she was a witch, and outing her would no doubt result in worse changes. Instead, she croaked like a frog, her cheeks bulging just as her breasts were.

It seemed Gabrielle got the idea; though, her eyes glimmering with recognition. Then the witch looked away, an innocent grin on her face.

In truth, Theresa had expected the bitch to feign ignorance, but it didn’t make it any less easy for her to bear. A wave of anger whelmed up within her chest; only to be completely absorbed by panic as she realized that her cocktail dress was beginning to give way.

Rather than see the strapless fabric tear, Theresa opted for a different approach. She hooked her thumbs along where the upper hem of her dress was and, ignoring the hoots of amusement from the peanut gallery, tugged her top down with a faint sigh of relief.

Her breasts sprang free from confinement, the force behind their motion enough to send Theresa’s cheap bra into the crowd. Though everyone was shocked by the sight of her froggy nipples, none seemed to be outraged. And one of the donors nearly fell from his seat; that same young man who’d unintentionally roped Theresa into this.

“Well then… It looks like our little Robbie here has taken an interest in tonight’s entertainment. What do you say, Theresa? Care to see if he’ll be the one to break you of your toady curse? Want to make Robbie your frog prince?” Gabrielle’s voice cut through the shouts, and Theresa looked to her incredulously.

‘Frog Prince’ was the code Gabrielle used when she wanted Theresa to change someone for her, and couldn’t outright say it… But here and now? Wasn’t this ‘Robbie’ one of the donors?

Theresa sighed, taking it in stride. Well, it wasn’t like there would be any skin off of her bones… She looked to the young man and sashayed her way over, her huge breasts swaying heavily with every step she took.

“What do you say, Rrrobbit?” Theresa smirked, one glance all she needed to tell that the man was fully hard. “I know that some of you is up to the challenge… But is the rest of you?”

Robbie looked down in surprise, covering his erection with a blush. “Yes, please! I mean yes!” He nodded, evidently at a total loss for words.

That much was a pity; Theresa was sure that he’d have liked to have something better to say than that for his last words as a human. Either way, he wouldn’t be able to speak in a few moments. The frog-woman stalked up to her prey, licking her lips with her longer tongue. Then she pursed them, leaning forward and closing her eyes as she waited to see what Robbie would do.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel a bit of guilt as he placed his lips on hers. Apparently her time transforming people had left her a bit desensitized to the whole thing, and she now viewed them just as she would a guilty defendant on trial. It was just business; there was nothing more to be done.

Theresa pulled away with a small grin on her face, cupping the man’s cheeks under hers. “So… You look to be a fine, strong young man.” Theresa purred, licking her lips so they glistened in the light. “I think you can give me a better kiss than that.”

Robbie was eager to please, his arms pulling Theresa close to him and—much to Theresa’s amusement—squishing her overlarge breasts against his chest. She wrapped her own arms around him, placing her lips firmly against his and shoving her long tongue deep into his mouth.

The man stiffened with discomfort, but only for a moment as his cheeks began to bulge, allowing him to savor the experience. They darkened to a mottled green as they continued to grow, and some of the crowd muttered as they realized that something was happening to him.

Robbie didn’t so much as notice, his eyes shut as Theresa continued to kiss him. She smirked around her tongue at that. Good, it was always easier when they weren’t fully aware of what was happening. Already she could tell that he was beginning to shrink; his embrace growing weaker as the muscle along his arms degraded; repurposing itself and moving to his legs.

Though his legs were getting shorter, his pants were just as snug thanks to his swelling thighs, and Robbie only moaned as Theresa continued her kiss.

Though the first union of their lips had been enough to damn the man, Theresa wanted to at least send him out in a pleasurable way; and she moved her arms to caress his sides. As she did, she could feel that they were softer than they’d been a moment ago, and she knew that this was just one more step on his way to froghood.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he also somehow noticed he was a bit plumper, his eyes opening with confusion to reveal that they were now an almost murky shade of gold.

“Is something-wrribbit-wrong?” Theresa asked, arching one of her eyebrows even as she watched Robbie’s recede into his face. Frogs had no need for eyebrows, Theresa mused, and she watched as the hair atop his head followed suit.

Robbie pulled away from her, letting her tongue slip from his mouth. As he did, he started to speak, rubbing his forehead with the back of a much slipperier palm. “I don’t know… I feel funneerribbit!”

Theresa watched with a smile as his hairless brow furrowed in bewilderment. The man tried to clear his throat to speak again, only for a louder croak to escape his lips, his cheeks widely expanding as they became green and froglike.

“Oops.” Theresa smiled coyly. “Looks like you weren’t my prince after all.” This time she spoke with a seductive, sultry tone that even got her heart racing. She could hardly imagine what it did to the poor man before her, though she could feel his heart racing with delight as she held him close.

“What arribbit!”He croaked again, beginning to panic as his body began to shrink.

Theresa caught the man in her breasts, a smile on her face as she sandwiched him between her pillowy mammaries. He seemed to enjoy that, at least—though it didn’t keep him from panicking. She cooed and hugged him tighter between her bosoms, grinning as his shoes slipped from his shrinking feet; his socks slipping off a second later as his skin grew slick.

Robbie was getting smaller and smaller in her large rack, shrinking from the size of a dog to the size of a doll. It only let her plush breasts smother him more, and Theresa sniggered as his struggles sent ripples of motion between her tits.

Eager to make this experience at least a somewhat enjoyable one, Theresa groped each of her breasts with her froggy hands, kneading them around Robbie's form. It was almost an impromptu massage, one with soft and fatty globes to cushion the man.

And yet terror seemed to overwhelm the pleasure that Robbie must so surely be feeling, as he continued to flail with fear. Theresa didn’t want to enjoy it, but there was that ever-present part of her which could empathize with Gabrielle; which could delight in the anxiety and fear of others.

It was this part of her that coaxed her into teasing Robbie further, pulling his clothes from between her breasts and tugging him out along with them. “Oh, what’s the matter? I thought you liked these.” She cooed, pushing her shoulders together to emphasize her cleavage.

When she received only a terrified croak in reply, the woman let her tongue glide along the smaller man’s cheek, tasting his part-human and part-frog perspiration. It had a rich and slick texture, and a salty flavor accompanied by the bitter flavor of fear. The crowd around her gasped; but they could live with these memories. Gabrielle had told her to do this, so she might as well have some fun with it.

And in a way, it was fun. It was fun watching this man shrink down within his clothes, their fabric folds billowing around him as he kicked and writhed, struggling to free himself from their grasp. Or was he struggling to get away from hers? She found, with a bit of surprise, that she didn’t much care.

Theresa grinned as she watched Robbie’s face distort, his mouth growing wide as his skull began to shrink. It was an odd thing to watch, an almost personal reminder of the fact that Robbie was losing his humanity.

Theresa loved it.

She smirked at the helpless little man, watching as his arms shrank and his legs lengthened. His feet began to flatten out, growing large and splayed as thick webbing ran between his stretching toes. Theresa had never gotten a good look at that before, so she gingerly took one of his legs in her own webbed fingers, examining it with a small smile on her face.

So immersed was she that Theresa didn’t notice how creepy she was acting until Gabrielle cleared her throat awkwardly. “Um… Getting a little carried away there?” The Frenchwoman nodded dutifully towards the frog in her hands, arching an eyebrow haughtily.

The frog-woman looked up to find that the room was staring at her, a wide-eyed crowd watching her every move. “I was just… Making sure Robbie here was the perfect size.” Theresa chirped, trying to keep her cheeks from turning red. She shoved the frog once again between her huge breasts and his struggles ceased immediately.

He was still alive; Theresa could tell that much from how he twitched happily, his tiny heart pounding against her soft mammaries. Hell, he was probably thinking that this was worth the change in the first place! And thankfully for Theresa, so did the crowd.

Gabrielle beamed as they cheered, and Theresa met her gaze levelly. These people might not know that what just happened was real, but she had an inkling that they’d find out before the night was up. At least, the ones who didn’t donate to Gabrielle’s cause would.

Theresa watched the Frenchwoman as she turned to face the crowd. “But that’s not all I have for tonight’s entertainment! I hear that one of tonight’s guests was an esteemed wrestler; none other than Jesus S. Segrub!”

A broad-shouldered brunette cleared his throat nervously as the people at his table began to cheer, and he raised his hand with a shy wave. “I used to be, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I ask because I’m curious if you can escape the grasp of a frog-girl.” Gabrielle chuckled. “You’ve been one of our most generous donors, so I feel we should give you a reward. If you can manage to escape Theresa’s thighs, I’ll personally owe you a favor. Should you fail, you’ll be taking everyone who’s donated tonight to your yacht for an afterparty.”

Theresa mentally scoffed at that, petting the frog between her breasts idly. A favor? How much influence could Gabrielle possibly have to make a favor an enticing offer?

She paused her thoughts with a wide-eyed stare as the former wrestler stood from his seat, shrugging off his jacket. Evidently the Frenchwoman wielded far more power than Theresa had imagined!

“You’re on.” Jesus said simply with a smile, stretching his arms.

Gabrielle grinned and turned to face Theresa, a stern look in her eye. “Don’t take it easy on him, okay? And try and keep him human for me? We wouldn’t want to have too many frogs on our hands.”

Theresa understood the witch’s words loud and clear: ‘don’t transform this guy; he’s important’. “Whateverrribbit you say, boss.” She croaked, licking her lips with a grin. Truth be told, she’d never really thought about how much strength her froggy legs held; this would be an excellent test of their power.

The frog woman let a confident grin play across her face as she walked up to Jesus, looking him in the eyes. Then she pulled up a chair, sitting on its edge as she spread her legs. “Ribbit! Ready?” She grinned, crossing her arms and smiling at the man.

“If you mean ready to win, then yes.” He shot her back a cocky look of his own, kneeling down so she could wrap her legs around his torso. Theresa noticed with amusement that his eyes widened slightly as he felt her tighten her grip around his waist.

“Still think so?” Theresa chuckled, flexing the strong muscles in her legs and holding him perfectly in place. She held some of her strength back, just in case. She didn’t want to hurt him, though she suspected even her strongest hold wouldn’t give him too much cause to worry—it was like she had her legs wrapped around a tree trunk!

Much to her surprise, Jesus smiled at her, a glimmer in his eye as his years of being a showman returned to him. His back straightened and he cracked his neck with a chuckle. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

The man followed this by placing his hands on her legs and pulling hard, his muscles straining as he tried to break Theresa’s grip. And, much to Theresa’s horror, he actually began to make headway, forcing her ankles apart.

She grit her teeth and met his gaze with a low and croaked chuckle. This was interesting; she hadn’t expected him to put out this much power from that position! But Theresa had yet to begin to fight, and she squeezed her legs tighter around Jesus, imagining that they were wrapped around Gabrielle’s neck instead of this man’s chest.

It was his turn to look panicked, and Theresa allowed herself a grin of content at the expression that flitted itself across Jesus’s face. Unfortunately for her, it lasted for only a moment, and the man grinned savagely as he applied at least twice as much force.

“Never thought you’d put up this much of a fight!” He beamed happily, and Theresa realized that he was more than a little glad to go back to the days when he wrestled in the ring.

“Likewise!” She retorted, her face paling as she saw he was beginning to make headway despite her best efforts. Theresa knew that nothing good would come of her disappointing Gabrielle, and she wondered what horrors the witch would come up with should Jesus really escape her grasp.

Fortunately, it seemed that this was one match Gabrielle didn’t intend to lose, and Theresa gasped with sensation as her thighs began to swell, gaining more and more muscle by the second. While she’d thought to wear a cheap bra today, she hadn’t expected a leg change, and the woman let out a small croak of dismay as her bulging legs began to tear through a perfectly good pair of nylons.

The tears started as small runs in her leggings, and Gabrielle whimpered as they began to feel so tight against her legs. But whatever dismay she felt was evidently only a fraction of what the former wrestler experienced as the ground he’d gain was almost instantly lost.

“God in heaven, woman!” He exclaimed, his face red as small beads of sweat dripped down his skin, and Jesus grunted, his biceps straining.

But by now, Theresa’s legs were as froggy as they’d ever been, and she croaked with triumph as the wrestler relented, slapping her twice on her thighs.

“I don’t know what kind of gym you go to, but I’m tapping out.” He chuckled, looking to Gabrielle. “Looks like I’m not as good as I used to be, no?”

Gabrielle grinned at him and shrugged. “Or maybe Theresa just happened to be a little stronger than you anticipated. Either way, I think that you owe our friends here a party.”

“You mean now?” Jesus gasped as Theresa let her hold on him go, chuckling and shaking his head. “You’re a crazy one… But I like that.” He said it with an earnest smile, wiping some of the sweat from his head as he turned to face Theresa. “And you… Lady, if you ever want to wrestle.”

“I’ll know who to call.” Theresa filed away that information for later. It was never a bad idea to have someone working with you, rather than against you. And in her current state, Theresa needed all of the friends she could get. “But for now, I need to entertain.”

She hated to say those last words, but she knew that Gabrielle wouldn’t let her off the hook that easily. So she watched Jesus leave the room with a small smile, shaking her head with a rueful chuckle. She really wanted to go to that party, too… But business was business, and right now hers was making sure Gabrielle was as entertained as possible.

And speaking of the devil, Gabrielle smiled at Theresa as the crowd of paying donors left the room, en route to the yacht. She winked and turned to the crowd, and an ominous dread began to fill Theresa’s heart.

“So I know some of you might be a little jealous of our partygoers… So I think I’ve come up with a little idea that all of you might like! Starting now, Theresa’s changes are all in your hands. You all can donate just a simple five thousand dollars to the cause, making Theresa more froggy and making you a part of that wild party Mr. Segrub is throwing!”

Theresa gawped in surprise and an unshakable feeling of betrayal as she looked out to the crowd to find that quite a few people seemed rather interested in the offer. The frog-girl tried to cover her huge breasts, flexing her thighs as she contemplated escaping from the house.

Of course she should have known better. No sooner had the thought passed through her head than one of the people in the crowd stood up. She was an elderly woman who was unbowed despite her years—though her red hair was almost certainly dyed. More importantly, she also was lifting her hand high, so Gabrielle could see her easily.

“Seven thousand to change her skin all the way into a wet and slimy frog's hide!” The woman announced loudly, a smile on her face as she looked to Theresa. The woman fanned at herself as her smile widened, and Theresa realized that Gabrielle must have given her some sort of signal that her bid was accepted.

The frog-woman's suspicions were confirmed an instant later as Gabrielle turned with wide eyes, a huge grin on her face. “Seven. Thousand. Dollars! As ever, Mrs. Dory outdoes herself with the generous donation!” She beamed at Theresa, giving her two thumbs up.

Theresa was tempted to flip her off, but she knew that couldn't end well for her. Instead, she shivered with mute displeasure as her skin started to feel clammy, a perpetual state of wetness as beads of sweat began to dew along her arms.

Then the sweat started to condense, and Theresa shivered as she felt it thickening on her arms, until she went from feeling like she was just out of the shower to feeling like her body was covered in oozing gravy.

But the lawyer knew firsthand that it only got worse from here, and she bit her lower lip nervously as her skin started to take on a greenish hue; her flesh growing rubbery as it did.

And with that, her sweat thickened even more until it was a thick and gooey mucus, clinging to her body in a thick and oozing second skin. Theresa crinkled her nose and ran a hand through the mucus, pulling her hand away to reveal that the slime clung to her fingers wetly.

As she'd expected, the crowd ate it up with a loud groan of disgust that swept through them like wind through a field. Theresa let her cheeks bulged as she croaked again, tossing her hair behind a green shoulder and wondering if she should slip out of her dress. The mucus was really making it cling to her, and she was beginning to feel as gross as her audience seemed to find her.

But before Theresa could even consider slipping out from her clothes, one of the men raised his hand, calling out: “I want to see her with frog's legs!” His voice was loud, and Theresa groaned slightly as she felt a Charlie horse sweep across both of her legs.

She fell back to the chair behind herself with a loud groan, peeling the cocktail dress from her thighs to reveal that her legs were beginning to gain bulk, growing larger and larger by the second. Her muscles were getting stronger even than during the wrestling match, and Theresa flexed them for the crowd's benefit, a small smirk on her face.

Sure enough, they took to this a lot better than to her slimy skin, and more than a few of the men began to lean forward in interest. Theresa smiled at them in particular, grinning at them as she slipped her feet from her shoes.

As she did, she revealed that her toes were changing as well. They grew longer and longer still before the watchful eyes of the crowd, their tips bulging more and more. Her pantyhose were stretched to their limits by the growth, and she sighed at their loss. Then again, for her work today Gabrielle could easily buy her new ones, especially given the extra cash the witch was earning.

That in mind, Theresa spread her strong froggy toes with a smirk, flexing her calves as she did. It had the desired effect of splitting the fabric along its forming seams and making her captive audience ooh and aah. She loudly croaked again, looking to Gabrielle to see if her efforts were appreciated.

Much to Theresa's delight and self-loathing alike, Gabrielle was smiling with approval at the frog-girl. No doubt the Frenchwoman would be rubbing in how froggy she'd acted over the course of the next few weeks.

Theresa forced a smile on her face and looked to the crowd expectantly, wondering if there would be any other takers in this extra auction. Sure enough, a gorgeous woman smiled, entwining her fingers with the man beside her and raising both of their hands.

“My husband and I are a little jealous of her good looks, all things considered... Why don't we transform her head to match the rest of her? But leave her hair as a reminder...” The woman smiled callously, patting her husband on his arm. “Since this is a little specific, would Ten thousand for the both of us meet your expectations?”

Gabrielle nodded to her with a smile. “It would both meet and exceed them. Theresa, if you would be so kind?”

The witch's words hung in the air for a moment, and Theresa could feel her ears burning with anticipation. Then the changing woman realized that she was physically feeling something in her ears, and her heart picked up again as she sent her fingers to the sides of her head.

Sure enough, her ears were dwindling into the sides of her head, their gentle curves shrinking. As her digits lightly grazed them, they shrank further into her skull like they were timid and afraid of her touch. Theresa groaned and croaked, feeling them slipping entirely away. Her earlobes were the last part to dwindle into nonexistence, leaving her with a pair of holes on the sides of her head to hear through.

Theresa groaned and prayed that the changes would stop there, knowing full well her wishes were in vain. Much as she tried to brace herself for the sensation of her skull reshaping, when it came she was caught completely off guard.

The second the transformation had been done with the sides of her head, it rapidly accelerated to the rest of her. It was like her ears had been a pilot light for change, and the rest of her head was the fuel. A cramping assailed her skull, and the woman whimpered, her hands clutching at the sides of her head.

It felt to Theresa like there was a vise around her head, clamped firmly around the top of her skull and her jaw. The cramping inexorably grew stronger, her skull flattening out more and more; getting wider and wider.

A loud croak escaped her lips, an unintentional ribbit brought on by her distress at the horrid sensation. Her head was stretched out so much; her lips were so big on her face!

For some odd reason, that distressed her far more than her eyes sliding to the sides of her head. Even her darkening eyes weren't anything close to as unnerving as having her mouth expand to be almost as wide as her head.

“Rrrribbit!” Theresa croaked again, her hands clutching at her throat as she looked up to the crowd with worry, praying that nobody else would bid to change her further.

“Hey, I’m not willing to pay anything, but I’d like to see her tits get bigger!” A loudmouthed man shouted from the back, a smirk on his face that was as douche as the ‘man-bun’ his hair was styled to resemble. He lounged back in his chair with a grin, no doubt expecting a transformation.

And, much to Theresa’s surprise, he received one. Her huge breasts began to ache on her chest, and she whimpered with distaste as they grew further; becoming so big and so sensitive on her chest. She quaked with distaste, her shivering sending ripples of motion through her engorged chest.

Her breasts were already so full, but now they were getting inflated to bursting! Worse, her back cramped, making her stoop down like a common animal. Before now she’d at least been somewhat alluring, but now her breasts were the size of pillows! Even if Gabrielle’s magic left them perfectly pert; too much was too much!

Theresa croaked loudly with dismay, groaning as she cupped her huge breasts in her froggy hands, her tongue lolling from her mouth as a higher pleasure spread through her body. She was so big now; her mammaries were mammoths on her body!

The froggy woman’s croak turned to a moan, and she hated herself for it. Her heart clenched and she managed to regain some manner of composure, looking up to her audience to find them unmoving, all save that couple from earlier who’d evidently lingered to watch the festivities.

But much to Theresa’s surprise, that last change seemed to be the end of the crowd's interest in her, and they remained still as the couple left for the party. Theresa looked to Gabrielle with a tired grin, wondering if her night was finally over.

But one look at the woman told Theresa that the witch had one final act in mind. Gabrielle looked around the room curiously, raising her hand to get the crowd's attention. “Is that really all? Nobody else wants to donate?”

No answer came, though Theresa knew that Gabrielle hadn't expected one. The tone in her voice was the same one she got whenever she wanted to toss in a few more changes, one Theresa had come to associate with the woman's inner sadist.

“Perfect.” Gabrielle clapped her hands, admiring the remaining dozen or so people in the room, all of them beginning to shift uneasily at her stare. She turned to Theresa with a smile, and the frog-woman found herself standing at attention as the crowd's gaze shifted to her.

“I'd like you all to thank Theresa for her performance tonight...” Gabrielle began, waiting for the applause to die down before continuing. When it stilled to just a few claps, she cleared her throat, a grin on her face. “And I'd like Theresa to thank you all for not contributing to the cause.”

Theresa blinked in confusion at that, and Gabrielle sighed patronizingly. “Your lips are still transformative, dear... As are your breasts. And each one of our tight-pursed playthings you change will bring you one step closer to your old human form.”

That statement was greeted by shouts of confusion from the crowd, who began to panic as they realized the magic show might have been more magic and less of a show than they were used to.

“Oh my God, the doors are locked!” One of the women shrieked, her proclamation enough to induce an uproar among the rich attendees—which of course was more of a clamor than a riot, but was nonetheless amusing to watch.

Theresa grinned, bending her large and froggy legs as she looked down to the old man who'd given her so much trouble at the start of this party. It looked like tonight might not be a total loss, after all.

He had enough time to squeak before she pounced upon him, her long tongue dangling from her mouth as she croaked loudly, wrapping her legs around his body and mashing her lips to his in a feverish kiss. Almost immediately the man croaked loudly, his cheeks turning red; then green.

“Oh, whath the matter? Frog got yourrribbit tongue?” Theresa smirked at her prey as he began to shrink within his clothing, disappearing with an outraged croak of surprise.

Theresa moaned as a wave of change swept along herself, her facial features taking on a much more human lilt. Her snout pressed a little back into her face and she regained a humanoid skull, smirking with delight. If this was all she had to do to become a human once more; this would be a piece of cake!

Her eyes searched for her next victim and she croaked contentedly at the caught sight of a very familiar haircut. She grinned and pounced onto the man she now knew as Man-bun, her breasts surrounding his face, smothering him with their ample flesh.

“Aww, and you used to like these so much!” She croaked, a grin on her face as his form began to twist and reform beneath her ample bosom. She smirked with self-satisfaction as his flailing grew weaker as he began to shrink, and she sorely wished that she could see the look on his stupefied face as she transformed him.

Then again, seeing his reaction and hearing his muffled cries become froglike croaks were more than enough for her amusement, and apparently were enough for her transformation to undo itself a little more. Theresa groaned with delight as her breasts began to shrink, almost in time with the froggy man beneath her.

Though they were still huge, they at least weren't stressing her back anymore. Which meant that she could now freely hunt the wealth of prey that filled the room around her, she thought with a manic gleam in her eyes.

Her head swept to the left and she smirked with amusement, finding a man holding out his wife before him, as though she were a human shield. Theresa bounded over to him next, her tongue shooting out to his mouth just as her breasts covered his wife's face.

She pulled back on her head with a froggy smile on her face, grinning as she easily pulled him back to her face, kissing him passionately. The man's eyes widened as her lips met his, only to become the yellow eyes of a frog a moment later.

His wife was little better off, falling to all fours and trying to hop—not run—away. Theresa let her go, knowing that she did her job. Them something started to wriggle between her breasts, and Theresa let the man in her arms go to find Robbie struggling in her cleavage.

“Oh, I totally forgot about you.” Theresa smiled down to the little frog, petting his head with a smirk on her face as she realized that she had hands gain. Hands! It was so good to have human hands once more! Even if they were a little webbed...

Theresa flexed her right hand into a fist; then snapped her arm forward to grab one of the fleeing guests, a younger blond. No doubt she'd been paid to attend as one of the more prominent guest's 'dates', for what little good that did her.

“P-please, I'm just an escort!” The girl whimpered, her eyes beginning to water.

Theresa simply snaked out her other arm to wrap around the back of the girl's head, grabbing the blond and pulling her face into her breasts. The froggy woman let out a snigger that evolved into a laugh as the woman started to scream, no doubt having met Robbie while her face was between Theresa's bosoms.

The blond tried hard to pull away, shouting something undiscernable about huge tits, only for Theresa to hold her all the tighter. This girl had fight to her—though her human strength paled in comparison to Theresa's froggy muscles.

Theresa grinned sadistically as the woman’s skin began to sheen as she began to sweat a thick mucus. Already Theresa could feel her body drying out, taking a much more human texture. She grinned and moved her hands from the woman’s head to her own breasts, squeezing them to keep the blond’s face trapped.

This turned out to be a brilliant idea, as Theresa had the privilege of feeling the woman’s face begin to extend while between her breasts. She could even feel the girl's mouth open in a scream, as she pitifully exclaimed, “Youre smothering me!”

Theresa only croaked in response, focusing on the odd sensation blond’s skull contorting; growing smaller as her brain shrank to match in her new amphibian body. The woman’s nose extended into a snout and her tongue slipped form her mouth as she drooled openly into Theresa’s rack, her mouth forced open by the changes.

Then, with a shriek, the blond was pulled into her cleavage. Her body shrank; her arms and legs lengthened to amphibian limbs; her backside extended into a small tail. But perhaps the most amusing part of this latest victim’s changes was that Robbie was taking as much pleasure in these changes as Theresa was.

The little frog in between her breasts was fidgeting around his new 'friend', and Theresa could tell where this little encounter would end for them. Just as the thought passed through her head she realized how messy that would be, and her eyes widened with surprise.

“Oh hell no! The world out there might be crazy, but my body is not a motel!” Theresa exclaimed, scooping out the pair of frogs just as Robbie entered the other frog. He at least had the sense to look ashamed, and it was that expression that saved him from being thrown against a wall.

Instead, Theresa only sighed and laid the two of them on the blond's clothes, giving them a makeshift bed for their first time as a couple. “I guess I am a romantic at heart.” She sniggered, moaning as her legs slimmed a little more; losing some of their froggy muscle in favor of human suppleness.

To her displeasure, she actually found herself missing the strength of her amphibian limbs—though the rush of regaining feminine limbs was was more than making up for that. She trailed her hands along her slimmer calves with a faint coo, wiggling toes that were back to their normal size.

Had transforming others felt this good before? Her heartbeat began to pick up as she looked around the room, smiling with sadistic delight. She was a serial transformer, with seemingly endless power! Theresa was starting to understand how Gabrielle could get off to changing the weak!

“Who's next?” Theresa smirked, running a much more human tongue along her lips as she looked to the dwindling crowd in the room. They recoiled in fear and horror alike, and she basked in the raw stink of their terror.

Then one of them reached into his coat and pulled out a Taser, and Theresa's eyes narrowed. “We have a winnerrribbit.” She smirked, dancing past his fumbling lunge with ease.

The lawyer had resumed her self-defense courses after first meeting Gabrielle, and while she'd intended to surprise the witch with them, it was more than worth the effort to see the look of surprise on the man's face.

She darted up to him with a quirk of a smile on her face, planting her lips against his wetly. As she did, her skin's tone and his switched, and she grinned as he croaked miserably, beginning to shrink.

“Oh, don't worry.” Theresa pet his head, strutting to his as-of-yet untransformed companions. “You won't be alone for long.”

The rest of the guests fell without much more protest—evidently seeing someone with a weapon being disposed of had resigned them to their fates. Some, to Theresa's amusement, had taken to follow in Robbie's suit, consummating their transformations almost immediately.

But most had simply scattered, leaving a returned Theresa to strut out with delight among the fleeing frogs. Her breasts were still enormous, but if it meant her being human again, she didn’t mind it one bit. She smirked at Gabrielle as she strutted towards the witch. “I think I'd call that a success.”

“Remarkably so.” Gabrielle agreed, beaming with delight. “Have I ever told you you make a wonderful frog?” Her fingers played in the air as she spoke, the familiar gesture of casting a spell on her 'pet'.

Theresa gasped as her breasts shrank a little more on her body, returning to their G-cup size from earlier. She'd never thought that she'd miss having such gratuitous gazoongas, but compared to the alternative these were positively comfy!

“As many times as I've told you I hate being called a frog.” Theresa chuckled ruefully, knowing that the witch was playing with her. Still, she refused to rise to the bait. She'd just now become human again, and she had no intentions of losing her body so soon.

Instead, Theresa took a different approach. “So I hear there's a party going on, and you're invited. Care to make me your plus one?”

Gabrielle laughed. “In those clothes? Not likely.” Then her eyes twinkled as she looked around the room. “Though I'd put top dollar on one of these women having a dress in your,” she paused, looking to Theresa’s chest with a pointed smile, “size. I'll be in the car waiting for you.”

Theresa watched the witch leave with a scowl on her face. She had no idea how it was that the woman seemed to always come out on top, but she'd find her way to exact vengeance.

Right after she found some intact clothes.