Title:           A Little Kick
Author:          Anonymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/MMv4uNKX
First Edit:      Monday 24th of August 2015 01:25:31 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Monday 24th of August 2015 01:25:31 PM CDT

Canterlot High is an odd school. It’s a place where strange occurrences are the norm and nobody bats an eye even if inter-dimensional creatures bent on dominating the entire student body appear. Perhaps that’s why the magic that’s steadily working its way through the school has gone mostly unnoticed; a slow, steady march forward is far more subversive than, say, crashing a school dance, or a battle of the bands showcase. But, it might also be due to the assurances of the school staff that everything is fine. And again, it might be that the magic is simply that effective at what it does.
 
But, be it the pace, the administration, or CHS just fitting into the spell’s niche, none of those things really matter to the resident health and wellness expert, one Nurse Redheart. In the midst of all the schemes and counterplots running between Principal Celestia and Twilight Sparkle, she has played a relatively large role in creating a safer, happier, sexier Canterlot High. However, it seems as though her run is about to come to an end…
 
“And then there were two,” Nurse Redheart sighs as she casts her eyes towards the medicine bottles spread out across her desk. A glass vial with a metal top designed to be punctured by any probing needle and drain out the helpful tonic within. Granted, the glowing pink substance isn’t so much medicine as it is an all-around problem solver. So far, the proven effects include: subjugation of snippy students into sexy (if empty-headed) bombshells, changing otherwise studious college students into proper party girls, a sutpendous stud-creator, and (not that she would remember this) a means of turning soon-to-be-sour-spinsters into tasty, trashy tarts half their original age.
 
But as previously mentioned, despite having direct involvement in no less than five transformations, the means by which she’s had all her success is beginning to dwindle. With only two full doses left, an anxious knot is beginning to build in the petite, pink-haired nurse’s belly. What happens when she runs out? Should she try to duplicate it? What about testing it further?
 
“Agh!” Redheart groans, leaning forward onto the table and burying her face in her arms. Well, her breasts do get in the way, so it’s more like peeking over the fence of her arms and staring at the pink-filled vials like some sort of peeper. With a scowl, she huffs. “This isn’t supposed to be a difficult decision about what to do; I mean it’s not like the stuff is worth anything.”
 
But that’s wrong, and the tiny tart knows it. The juice within is priceless, because she can do just about anything she pleases with it and even after so many successful trials, she’s still just beginning to brush the surface of what’s possible. For instance:
 
“I wonder,” Redheart murmurs, picking up both bottles and sliding them around in the palm of her hand, “what would happen if I found a small student and just gave him two, one after the other.”
 
The nurse shudders as the very welcome memory of her latest subject, one Shining Armor, makes itself known. After a dose and change of the pink stuff, the modestly equipped young man had grown into a full-on super stud, capable of pleasing not only his college cutie’s cunny, but even Redheart’s own hungry snatch. Repeatedly, and without mercy. And then, after leaving both of them unable to stand up straight, much less walk unassisted, he took on the MILFiest maneater that the nurse had ever laid eyes on. That had ended in a draw. Maybe; the whole incident after being so thoroughly ravaged is honestly a bit of a blur.
 
Back in the present, the pink-haired woman shakes her head and looks to the vials again. “Would he end up bigger, stronger, better than that? What if I changed the location of the injections?” A rich, red blush rushes to the normally dominant dame as her imagination begins to run away from her. “Could I make him incredibly huge? Or maybe I could increase the volume of every shot, or make him super potent? Would he knock up the entire school, or would he focus all his attention on me?”
 
Redheart’s breath begins to come in short, uncertain gasps as she blindly gropes across the desk with her free hand. Finally, her fingers at last settle around the largest dildo on display and brings it to her face. Slurping her tongue along the entire massive length, the red-faced nurse never stops staring at the glowing pink liquid. The sheer number of now possible impossibilities running through her head simply won’t allow the nurse to look away.
 
What about giving herself a dose? Or better still, both of them! That would show Principal Celestia what’s what, certainly. Visions of dominating the amazonian administrator bring a delighted smile to Redheart’s now smeared lips. The thought that it might not work, or not have any effect at all, is so far from the slut-struck transformation tart that she doesn’t even consider them. Or hear the knock on her door for that matter.
 
“Hey Red, whatcha do- woah!”
 
Nurse Redheart chokes slightly around the massive tip filling her mouth as a familiar voice brings her back to reality. Her best friend and top-shelf-grabber Cheeri stands with her mouth agape, as though struggling to process the scene in front of her. The two engage in a stare off for a moment, before the teacher-turned-tart giggles.
 
“Omigosh Red, with your cheeks all puffed out like that, you look just like a chipmunk. Ooh, no wait; a spunk-munk!”
 
Giving an unladylike gag, the still red-faced nurse pulls the dildo out of her mouth with a lewd pop. Struggling for air, she takes a few short, gasping breaths, the lights into her friend.
 
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?”
 
“Um, I did, but you were totes in la-la-land.” As if for emphasis, she points to Redheart’s chest and smiles. “See? You didn’t even notice that you’re leaking through your jacket.”
 
“What? Shoot!” the now frantic nurse peels off her coat and holds it out in front of her. Sure enough, there are two starter wet spots from where it has already bled through her padded nursing bra and top. Giving a gentle sigh, Redheart slides her soaked clothing off and hangs them over the chair. Dressed only in her too short skirt, garter and heels, she struts over to the small milking machine in the corner and hooks herself up to it. The medicine bottles roll along the desk, temporarily forgotten.
 
Cheeri plops her sizeable backside on the desk, toying with the two containers as she watches her friend go through the process of placing the half-moon cups over breasts, making sure to fit her wine-cork sized nipples in ‘just so’. As the machine hums to life, and Redheart’s knees start to quiver, she restarts the conversation.
 
“Slow day?”
 
“More like a slow week,” the nurse sighs, propping herself up with her arms by using the wash station nearby. Cheeri bites back a comment about how the petite pink-haired woman looks like a dairy cow, though knowing Redheart, she might get off on the image. “Not a single male student for the past three days; aren’t boy supposed to run around and get hurt? And then all the female ones are so wound up that the slightest suggestion of skinship sends them squeaking back to class.” Sighing, the nurse closes her eyes. “I just need a good milking, and maybe a proper screwing.”
 
Cheeri’s eyes light up at that. “Ooh! In that case, since you’re taking care of the first, maybe I can set you up with the second?” The nurse opens one of her eyes, the slightly glazed over orb seeming uninterested, but eager at the same time. So the amazon goes on. “Its totes ladies night at this little hole in the wall place I just heard about. I bet there’s a load of big boys there with even bigger”
 
An unnecessary pause lingers, before Cheeri giggles. “Attitudes.”
 
“You’re such an airhead,” Redheart sighs, closing her eye again. In all honesty, the tiny tart isn’t sure that any one man could stack up against the railing that she received at the hands, and lips, and dick of Shining Armor. It might be better just to track him down, drop to her knees in front of him, open her mouth, and hope he gets the message. But then Cheeri would get upset about not being able to have a girl’s night and… ugh.
 
Opening her eye again, the slightly more lucid Redheart looks at her friend. And then she sees the familiar pink bottle by Cheeri’s thick thigh. A strange, if not unexpected thought crosses her mind, one that might make the night interesting, even if she can’t find a proper tummy tickler. And so, with the lurid idea still bouncing around inside her head, Redheart smiles at her friend.
 
“Sure Cheeri. How should I dress?”
 
With an excited squeal, the teacher claps her hands and hops to her feet. “Super slutty! We’re going to get the attention of all the boys tonight!”
 
Redheart smiles as she watches her friend wiggle her breasts and butt about in a victory dance. Then she shudders again at the constant suckling of the machine. Life is good…
 
===
 
After leaving CHS, Nurse Redheart heads home with her milk stained clothing in a bag. Thank goodness she has her own closet, and keeps a change of clothes on hand. And so, once the clothes are treated and in the wash, Redheart goes through the process of picking out the best barely legal outfit she can manage.
 
In the end, it’s difficult for her to squeeze into a pair of hot pants and a tube top and call it acceptable; she is a tart with a bit of taste after all. Instead, she pulls on a black spaghetti strap top that barely manages to hide her lacy black bra underneath but leaving enough room so that if she shifts just right, she can show off to some lucky target. The dusky colored miniskirt is incredibly snug, clinging tightly to her slender, muscular thighs, and helping to draw just enough attention to her plump posterior. Of course, with her petite stature, she’s just one good squirm away from showing off the lacy panties underneath. And a pair of sheer, black stockings, just the way she likes it.
 
Cheeri is far less stylistically inclined, though the sleeveless body stocking is probably the largest single piece of fabric she owns. Sheer almost to the point of transparency, the low cut top showcases the amazon’s abundant cleavage, barely contained by the soft blue bra underneath. The matching pair of thong panties allows her backside to breathe and jiggle enticingly at the slightest movement. While the stocking cuts off around her knees, there’s very little to complain about as Cheeri’s legs still seem to stretch on forever. The back and forth between the two roomies leaves their decisions has hardly a surprise, but the duo still take time to size each other up anyway as they walk out of their bedrooms.
 
“Slut,” they both respond at once, still managing a smile before gushing over one another’s outfits. Cheeri drives them into town, the statuesque woman having a far more comfortable vehicle to ride around in; well, that and she’s the one who knows where they’re going. It’s a short drive, and after getting parking squared away, the two tarts trot themselves towards their destination.
 
True to Cheeri’s description, the bar is tucked away and would be easy to pass by if you weren’t looking for it. In truth, if it weren’t for the variety of alcohol, Redheart would be more inclined to call it a dive than an honest bar. But, with how well stocked the shelves behind the counter are, and the sheer number of taps running along the front, it’s clear that the owner takes drinking very, very seriously.
 
Unfortunately, the bar is perhaps a little too well hidden, as there are only a scant few patrons, and most of them women. Not even sexy women, though there are a handful who look like catches at first, but end up being only a little better than Plain Janes after a second glance. That being said, all eyes are glued to the two tarts as they saunter up to the bar, so it’s not all bad. Redheart relishes being the center of attention, casting glances around to the rest of the guests. Tonight ought to be at least a little fun.
 
“Ooh, Red,” Cheeri taps her friend on the knee, wearing her usual, excited smile. “They’re totally staring at us!”
 
“Did you figure that out yourself?” the nurse manages with a smirk, the joke going in one ear and out the other of her airhead bestie. But not getting the joke certainly doesn’t dampen the amazon’s spirits as she grabs Redheart’s hands.
 
When her friend raises an eyebrow, Cheeri leans in close, nearly brushing their noses together as she murmurs, “We should totes make out; that’ll leave a super first impression!”
 
Redheart colors a little at her friend’s boldness, but never drops her confident expression. Besides, it isn’t like the two of them hadn’t played this game with potential lays before; it’s just been a little while. Still, the nurse’s eyes droop as she leans in to cover the ever so brief distance between herself and the school teacher, feeling a delightful shiver run down her spine as Cheeri does the same. She can already feel the fruity taste of the titanic tart’s lipstick with each heavy breath when a loud smack echoes up from the bar.
 
“Hey, none of that now,” a gravely voice grumbles. Both bimbos blink, taking several seconds to realize that their intimate moment was so rudely interrupted before turning to the horrible interloper; Redheart with a little more irritation than Cheeri, of course.
 
To her credit, the purple-haired woman doesn’t flinch at the nurses’ glower. In fact she manages to return with one of her own, filled with the venom that tends to build up over many, many years of dealing with troublemakers. Redheart flinches a little as the thirty or forty-something looks the two of them over, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she squints and gives a derisive snort. “I don’t really know what the two of you are thinking, but this isn’t that kind of place. If you want to get guys whooping all over you, there’s a dance club down on Fifth.”
 
As if to make up for her earlier weakness, the tiny, pink-haired tyrant gives a short laugh and smirks. “Yeah? Well who are you?”
 
“The owner; Berry Punch,” the bartender declares, pointing to the sign hanging above them: ‘Berry’s Bar’. Dropping her finger, she crosses her arms over her chest and frowns. “And who are you two?”
 
Utterly oblivious, Cheeri grins and waves. “Hi! My name’s Cheerilee, but everyone calls me Cheeri, and this is Red! Oh, but she doesn’t like it when people call her Red, so everyone else calls her Redheart!”
 
As the CHS nurse buries her face in her hand, Berry smirks and the offers up a small chuckle. “You aren’t exactly the brightest bulb in the box, are you Cheeri?”
 
“Nope!”
 
“Well, you’re friendly enough, I suppose,” the bartender sighs, shooting a look to the smaller woman. “I guess the two of you can stay as long as you adhere to the three drink minimum, each, and you keep your little friend in check.”
 
Redheart grits her teeth, moving to leave the stool when Cheeri’s finely manicured fingers reach out and grasp her wrist. There’s a look of pleading in the taller woman’s eyes that, while the nurse doesn’t understand, she finds it difficult to resist. With a grunt and a sigh, she settles back into her seat and looks up at Berry Punch.
 
“Fine, we’ll start with-”
 
“Ooh, two margaritas!”
 
Berry’s smile falls in an instant as she sighs. “I should have guessed. You know I don’t serve them in those ridiculous oversized glasses, right?”
 
Cheeri pouts, looking far more disappointed than any grown woman has the right to be about a novelty gimmick, but bobs her head. “That’s fine…”
 
“Well, sit tight then.” Walking towards the other end of the bar, Berry sets to work, leaving the two girls alone for the time being. As she works, Redheart sighs.
 
“Well, judging from the crowd and the bartender, it seems like tonight is going to be a royal bust.” Drumming her fingernails against the countertop, the tiny terror again lets her eyes wander across the crowd. The pair are still getting the occasional glance from men and women alike, and it’s a nice blend of amazement, arousal, and irritation, just the way the tart likes it. Unfortunately, they’ve lost the element of surprise and, thanks to the interruption of their kiss, have likely been written off as just another pair of teases. Which isn’t entirely untrue, but tonight Redheart is hoping for a little more than a pleasant, aroused buzz tonight.
 
“Aw, don’t be like that, Red; I’m sure that everything will totes work out.”
 
The nurse can’t help but crack a smile at her friend’s relentless spirit. Even when things simply aren’t going her way, the amazonian airhead refuses to back down. And who knows? She might be right. Redheart looks over the patrons again, and then suddenly freezes. The drinks clatter against the bartop, but she barely even notices as Berry Punch informs them both of their current tab before heading back down to the taps.
 
Cheeri is just about to take a drink of her margarita when Redheart grabs her wrist. “Ah! Red, stoppit!” she squeaks, leaning the sloshing drink left and right to avoid getting any on her dress. At last the liquid settles down and the teacher frowns at her friend. “I almost spilled my drink!”
 
“Shh, look at that,” the nurse hisses, directing Cheeri’s vision with her eyes towards a darker corner of the bar. A rather robust man sits, hunched over a table and nursing a beer. He’s not especially attractive, muscular but a little grungy, probably smelling like sweat, dirt and grime. Cheeri can feel her nose wrinkle at the thought of getting close to them when she sees what’s caught her friend’s eye.
 
“Wowzers,” the taller woman whispers, her jaw dropping just enough to make a cute, vacant ‘o’-shape with her lips as she stares at the man’s crotch. There is a distinct, noticeable bulge there, probably at least as long as her own hand. Considering her height, that’s quite impressive, and it might even be enough for the ravenous Redheart she’d walked in on earlier in the day.
 
“That’s him,” Redheart smirks, looking back at Cheeri, “if there’s anyone in here who’s going to be a great ride, it’s him.” She takes a sip of her drink and immediately freezes. Her forehead creases in confusion as she looks the glass over and frowns. “Why is it pink?”
 
“Oh, that’s the pomegranate!” Cheeri giggles. “The bartender said something about girly drinks for girly-girls, or something like that.”
 
Clicking her tongue, the nurse scowls at the aging Berry as she chats up another patron at the other end of the bar. “Gawd, who does she think she is, saying things like that to her customers? No wonder nobody comes in here,” and then she immediately takes a more robust pull from her beverage. Cheeri giggles, kicking her feet in the air as she sucks away on the straw that came with her drink. It might not come in a glass as big as her bust line, but there’s no doubt that the carefully crafted cocktail is a thousand times better than the sludge she’d enjoyed on Spring Break three years ago.
 
A gentle sigh comes from Redheart’s lips as she finishes her drink and turns back to Cheeri. “Anyway, I need you to do something for me.” The dark-haired woman raises her eyebrows, reluctant to stop sucking the delightful drink through her straw, so her friend continues. “I need you to distract that bore-tender for a little while.”
 
Cheeri blinks a few times, then finally pulls her lips off the straw. “Why’s that?”
 
“Because short of having a nineties-era cellphone shoved down his pants, that guy over there is packing some serious heat.” Redheart grins and leans in closer. “But I want to give him a little test-drive before I take him home, understand?”
 
Cheeri blinks a few times, and then gasps. “Omigosh, are you gonna do it in the bathroom? That’s so icky, aren’t you a nurse?”
 
“What? No!” Redheart grumbles, bumping her leg against Cheeri’s. “I’m just going to make sure that he’s not a one-pump chump or something so that I’m not disappointed later.”
 
Oh, that makes a lot of sense. No wonder Redheart’s always satisfied with her conquests, she’s got it all figured out. Granted, older guys aren’t really Cheeri’s style and she doesn’t quite understand the motive, but the nurse is desperate for a good dicking, and a good winggirl always tries to get her friend laid. Or protect her from unwanted attention. One of the two. And so, Cheeri bobs her head and meets her friend with an intense look.
 
“So what do I do?”
 
“Like I said, just distract her until I get to the bathroom with him. Order a drink, make small talk, something like that, I really don’t care; just make it so she does not block me. Think you can do that?”
 
“I think so?”
 
“Good, hold my purse,” the nurse murmurs, shoving the small bag into her friend’s hands before mincing her way down towards her target. She does her best to suppress the predatory smile that threatens to take over her lips as she bats her eyes and approaches. The pink-haired woman is going to take what she needs.
 
===
 
Cheeri gives an uncertain grunt as Redheart hurries away, gripping the bag tightly as she turns her own attention down towards the bartender. While one might expect the usually empty-headed instructor to be good at small talk, she still has difficulty keeping her attention focused on the more boring stories that people have to tell. Secretly, Cheeri hopes that Berry Punch is a little bit of a rambler as she waves the older woman down.
 
“So you finished your drink?” Berry struts down with a half smile, eyeing up the glasses in front of her. “What’d you think?”
 
“Super tasty,” Cheeri says with a genuine smile. “But why did you use pomegranate?”
 
The bartender laughs a little and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I guess I was feeling a little cheeky. In addition to being sweet, pomegranates have a long history of being used as more,” she pauses, as though struggling for the right word, then shrugs and smiles, “well, more fertile imagery.”
 
Gasping, the airhead reaches out and grabs the bartender’s hand, causing Berry to flinch back a little in surprise. “Omigosh that’s right! Persephone totes ate one after she was whisked away to the Underworld!”
 
“Uh, yeah.” Berry’s face scrunches up a little as the amazon completely misses the intended point and jumps to one she hadn’t thought of. “But, how did you know that?”
 
“Duh, I’m a Classics teacher,” the bimbo replies with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “I’m like the best in my department when it comes to Mediterranean Mythology.”
 
Somehow, that response doesn’t seem to sit well with the bartender. Slowly pulling her hand away, she gives Cheeri a cautious once over and then leans closer. “But aren’t you, you know, a little dim?”
 
The teacher’s expression darkens a little as a frown dances across her lips. “Well, yeah, I’m a little spacey, but I’m not stupid or anything.” Okay, she could be a little off sometimes. “I’ve got two degrees and am going to start taking graduate level classes next year.”
 
“Woah there,” the smirking, Berry lets out a short laugh and shakes her head. “Sorry, I had no idea you were so ambitious; I thought you and your friend were just a couple pieces of arm candy.” Suddenly the bartender glances about. “Where is that little pink nightmare anyway?”
 
The question causes the amiable airhead to freeze as she looks around the bar. A quick glance towards the corner shows that the man Redheart had her eyes on is gone, and so Cheeri turns back with a quick smile, and an even quicker response, “She had to go to the bathroom. But you’re not totally wrong; I might like hanging off the arm of some super stud who’s rich, has a nice smile, can go for ho-”
 
“Too much information, get to the point.”
 
“Oh, right. But, I like teaching students too, and I totally love working with my department. Everyone’s so brainy and they help keep me on track!”
 
Cheeri giggles, twirling a bit of hair around her index finger. And it’s true; CHS, for all the awkward changes that are occurring, is still a school with an emphasis on learning. The subject matter might be undergoing a shift, but Principal Celestia’s insistence that students be properly prepared for the world outside continues to take priority.
 
Berry Punch stares at her unexpected patron for a long while, and then smiles. “Well I never would have guessed you would walk into my bar and blow me away like you have. What about your friend, is she a teacher too?”
 
“No. Oh wait, yes! Well, not yet,” the airhead puffs out her cheeks as she tries to decide which is true. “She’ll be teaching a class next semester on health and wellness, but she’s actually a full time nurse at the school. I don’t know how she’s going to do all that and take classes on becoming a Nurse Practitioner, but if anyone can do it, it’s Red.”
 
A low whistle escapes the now thoroughly impressed bartender. “I suppose I had you girls pegged wrong. I thought you were just looking for a couple quickies.”
 
Cheeri forces a smile, trying her hardest not to say that that’s exactly what they’re looking for. Her concerns about small talk abated for the moment, the busty woman leans forward, nearly spilling out of her body stocking as she smiles at the bartender. “So, what about you? You obviously have a knack for alcohol, but why are you so grumpy?”
 
“I’m not grumpy!” the bartender snaps, earning a few chuckles from around the bar. She casts a warning look around, and the sound quickly dissipates before she looks back to the slightly stunned Cheeri. With a sigh, Berry reaches under the bar and pulls out two glasses. “It’s a bit of a story and I don’t much like to talk about it without a stiff drink.” There’s a brief pause as the bartender takes out the rest of her tools and ingredients before she fixes Cheeri with a stare. “Just so we’re clear, you’re paying for both of these.”
 
The bimbo’s head bobbles as she smiles, watching the bartender work. The sugar cube she puts in first is quickly dissolved by the blend of alcohol and water, though the resulting liquid hardly looks like it would last a single gulp. Then she adds ice, a cocktail cherry, and a goodly amount of liquor. With a grin, Berry swirls a spoon around in both glasses a few times, then slides the teacher her drink.
 
“One old-fashioned, drink up.”
 
And then, without even batting an eye, the bartender throws her head back and downs her drink in a single, smooth motion. Not a sigh, not a grunt, not even a quiet cough escape her lips as she lets the glass clatter back against the bartop. Cheeri is not nearly as prepared, giving a girlish grunt as the stiff taste of rye alcohol rolls across her tongue and down her throat.
 
“Careful,” Berry chides, holding back a laugh, “it’s a little stiff. But I guess this gives me a chance to talk uninterrupted.”
 
Cheeri nods and places her elbows on the counter to hear Berry’s story.
 
“I guess it all started when I met my partner; smart guy, very business minded. We were in college at the time and both decided it wasn’t really for us, so we decided to go into business together. I’ve always loved alcohol; the way it opens people up, brings them down, lifts them up, the whole range of human emotions inspired by a few glasses of good liquor, and so it was pretty obvious that a bar was the way to go.”
 
Looking around the bar, Berry offers up a wistful smile. “We had a good run, a great one in fact; for the better part of a decade, this was the place to be, and life was good. But times got tougher, and people decided to spend less on quality, and more on quantity.”
 
Dipping her finger into the glass, Berry lets it roll along the oversized ice cube as a distant expression crosses her face. “My partner, then hubby, was convinced that all we had to do was stay the course; that eventually people would come around and realize that just because you get a margarita glass bigger than your head, doesn’t mean that the margarita’s good. I mean, you wouldn’t believe how much those drinks are thinned out, even from a frozen pre-mix tube!” The bartender makes an irritated click with her tongue, looking away as Cheeri continues to sip from her glass. The silence lasts for a good while this time.
 
“But, it never happened,” Berry finally sighs. “And, one day, I woke up and my husband was gone, leaving me with the bar, a continually growing mountain of debt, and a shrinking pool of regulars.”
 
“Omigosh, that’s so sad,” Cheeri whimpers, reaching out and grabbing the woman’s hands. “Wife, abandoned by husband, with debt up to her eyeballs, it’s like you’re a modern day Dickens’ character or something!”
 
“Mm, thanks for that,” the bartender grunts, rolling her eyes a little. “I mean, it’s still his fault for up and leaving me, but I still had a chance to change all this. Five years ago, just after my husband had left, there were a couple investors interested in turning my bar into what they called ‘a proper night time destination’. They were out of towners looking for an investment, not a job, and so offered me the world on a platter: clear my debt, a substantial stake in the new business, position as general manager, hell, I could even decide on the themes, décor, and keep the bar stocked however I pleased, as long as I made money. They gave me a blank check, and the chance to use it and change the nightlife of this town forever.”
 
Reaching into her glass, Berry fishes out the cherry and looks at it with a longing but tired smile. “And I turned them down, because I thought that one day my husband would come back, and I wanted everything to be the same as when he left. But now I know that he’s not, and all I’ve got to show for it is this place, much as I love it.”
 
Cheeri’s heart sinks as she looks around the rather dreary bar. It has its charm, sure, but between the tinny, low volume music playing through aging speakers, the mismatched lights that make some tables bright and some sit in almost complete darkness, and the scuffed up and tired looking floor, in the end, the only thing to come and do at this place is drink.
 
“I guess that’s why some of the old-timers have taken to calling me Sour Grapes,” Berry says with a bitter laugh before popping the cherry in her mouth. She stares off into the distance for a while longer before turning back to Cheeri. And then ends up nearly choking on her tongue as she catches sight of the younger woman. “Wait, are, are you crying?”
 
The teary-eyed teacher sniffles sliding a knuckle under her eye. “H-Huh? Oh, uh, I guess I am.” Cheeri gulps, blinking her eyes, but the tears refuse to stop coming. “Oh gosh, my mascara is going to run!”
 
“Here,” Berry mutters, handing the airhead a cocktail napkin which she uses to blot her eyes. Leaning forward a little, the bartender chuckles and shakes her head. “Sorry, I guess that I got a little wrapped up in my story and wasn’t really thinking about how it might hit you. I know it’s not the nicest one to hear.”
 
“No, no it’s fine,” Cheeri laughs, finally staving off the onslaught on her makeup. “It’s just like when you’re reading and you totes connect with a character and they go through some awful tragedy.” Reaching out, the teacher again places her hand on Berry’s. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through that and I would totes help you if I could.”
 
Berry chuckles and pats the younger woman’s hand. “That’s kind of you, but I don’t think that’s happening on a teacher’s salary.”
 
“Yeah,” the tart sniffles, “you’re right about that.”
 
“Anyway, fix your makeup, you look like a mess.” Pausing, the bartender nods to someone at the other end before pulling her hands away from Cheeri. “I’ve got to get someone else fixed up, but I’ll come back in a bit and see how you’re doing.”
 
Cheeri nods again, both women waving as Berry walks towards her customer, leaving the teacher by herself. She shivers, digging through Redheart’s purse for a compact and some mascara, knowing full well that she could always depend on the nurse to be prepared for such instances.
 
She finds both easily enough, but as she’s pulling her hand out, her elongated nails knock something else loose. Solid, but tinkling like glass at the contact. Cheeri takes a second look inside the purse and her eyes widen. A smile slides across her lips as she reaches up her hand to wave down Berry as she approaches.
 
“What’s up?” the bartender smiles.
 
“I know I can’t do much, but every bit of business helps, right? Do you think you could you mix us up another drink? I have a special martini request.”
 
The bartender bobs her head, going again for the glasses. Cheeri smiles as she works on her makeup in the reflection of the compact, waiting for her moment.
 
===
 
Back in the bathroom of Berry’s Bar, Nurse Redheart finally manages to pin the much larger man against the wall. Her lipstick is noticeably smeared, and if the man’s neck is any indication, she’s been giving him the business since they arrived. A dopey smile slides across the guy’s face as the aggressive woman slides her hand down over the bulge in his pants. Despite her desire to get railed, she still decides to be at least a little coy.
 
“So,” she purrs in that sweetly, threatening way, “is that a cellphone in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
 
 The man mutters something, but Redheart is far too enamored with sliding her hand up and over the lump, giggling to herself. It’s so big, so hard, so firm, so… awkwardly shaped?
 
The nurse’s brow furrows as she suddenly slides her hand into the man’s pocket. He yelps in a mixture of surprise and delight, still chuckling like a dope as Redheart pulls out the largest flip-phone she’s seen since middle school. Her jaw drops as the child’s walkie-talkie sized instrument glistens up at her with its charcoal grey casing.
 
“What the hell is this?” she hisses through her teeth, shaking the mobile phone, if one could call it that, in her target’s face. “Why do you have this hunk of junk? You can’t even sext with this thing!”
 
A feeling of dread wells up in her throat suddenly. All formalities forgotten, Nurse Redheart quickly unbuttons the man’s pants and pulls down his drawers. And her scowl deepens.
 
“You have got to be kidding me.”
 
It simply won’t do, not at all. Shaking her head, the pink-haired woman pulls up the man’s briefs and sighs. So apparently, her gauging is a little off, but, she can fix this! Redheart’s eyes sparkle as she looks up at the man and grins. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
 
Hurrying out of the bathroom, Redheart hustles over to Cheeri and snatches her purse away. The bubbly bimbo gives a small shout in surprise, but quickly smiles. “Omigosh, welcome back, Red! Did you have any luck?”
 
“Turns out it was a phone after all,” the nurse grumbles, digging through her things, searching. As the seconds pass, panic begins to sink in, until finally Redheart upends her purse on the bar. Various bits of makeup, plastic cards, half a dozen breath mints, and even a few small sex toys spill out across the countertop, but not what she’s looking for. She even gives the purse a few more shakes only to come up empty.
 
“Gosh Red, you’re super worked up,” Cheeri mumbles, earning a glare from her friend. And that’s when the pink-haired woman sees it, pressed tight in Cheeri’s palm. A medicine bottle. Correction, an empty medicine bottle.
 
“Cheeri,” Redheart seethes through her grimace. “What did you do?”
 
“I’m going to have to have you disinfect that spot, you know,” Berry says, cutting the teacher off before she can answer. The older woman scowls at the petite nurse, a glass clutched tight in her hand. “You can’t just drop anal beads or whatever on someone’s counter and expect to get away with it.”
 
Rolling her eyes, Redheart huffs. “The worst thing in that pile is a bullet vibrator and” at once, her complaint stops as a gentle pink hue catches her eye. It’s coming from the glass. Berry’s glass. Redheart turns towards Cheeri with a scowl. “What did you do?”
 
“Well, whatever it is, you’re still cleaning it up,” Berry scowls before throwing her head back and downing the drink that she had mixed for herself. It’s unexpectedly sweet, scratch that, impossibly sweet; Berry is sure that she’d mixed up another liquor heavy drink, going so far as to cut most of the flavoring out, but this flows easy over her tongue and down her throat, filling her entire body with unexpected warmth.
 
Berry’s eyes very nearly cross as she looks up at the two bimbos, apparently arguing over something serious.
 
“Where did you find that bottle?” the pushy pink one asks.
 
“It was in your purse, duh!” the far more friendly teacher responds.
 
“And what did you do with it?”
 
“I put it in Berry’s drink when she wasn’t looking!”
 
Back and forth they go: wanting to know why, or about taking things without permission, but the bartender’s thoughts are far too removed to keep up with all of that. The only thing on her mind is how her body feels as though it’s about to burn up from the inside out.
 
Now, it’s no secret that Berry has had issues with her drinking in the past; especially when she was younger, and again after her husband left. But she has always been able to take care of herself, and there’s never been a drink that threatened to knock her off her feet until now. And so, leaning up against the counter top, struggling to keep her eyes focused, Berry does what she can to organize her thoughts into a relatively coherent line.
 
She is Berry Punch, both proud and cursed owner of Berry’s Bar. Her husband left her several years ago, and she’s been just barely making it ever since. After closing, she’ll often nurse herself to sleep with a nightcap or three, waking up sometime in the afternoon with just enough time to get ready before she opens in the evening.
 
What an absolutely miserable existence, she thinks to herself as she grits her teeth. With all the time that she’s out into this place, surely she deserves better than that! But at forty-and-change, Berry has long believed that her best days are long behind her.
 
The magic coursing through her body is inclined to disagree.
 
The first changes are simple, if drastic, as the middle-aged pudge from years of stress, heavy drinking, and bouts of inactivity begins to she from her body. Berry realizes that she’s truly lucky to have retained her college-age figure, still slim and strong at her age. She’s quite the looker, and has benefited from a few regulars being interested in a little more than just the drinks as a result.
 
As Redheart and Cheeri argue, the space around them shifts ever so slightly. They have to speak a touch louder as the conversations around them increase in number, more tables filling, and the gentle music coming in with more clarity through the recently purchased speakers.
 
“You can’t just go rooting around in other people’s things!” the nurse growls, even as Cheeri’s eyes wander. With a grunt, Redheart grabs her friend by the wrist and scowls. “What are you even looking at?”
 
The tarty teacher grins, pointing out into the rest of the bar with her eyes. Redheart looks as well, her lips parting into a look of surprise as she notices that the clientele somehow looks a little more appetizing than before. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, earning a giggle from Cheeri as she slides a hand over her friend’s stomach.
 
“Mm, Red, I think we should wait and see what happens, don’t you?”
 
All the slutty nurse can manage is a gentle nod as she tries to drink in the transition as it happens.
 
Meanwhile, things seem a little clearer on Berry’s side. Looking up and out, she sees so many more faces than usual, but somehow each and every one of them seems familiar and comforting. She even remembers their drink orders, so they must be regulars!
 
In truth, business is doing okay since her husband left; they lost a few regulars, but have picked up some others. Things are on an even keel, and she’s even able to do the occasional upgrade to the bar. It’s not like things couldn’t be better on the business end of things, but she simply doesn’t have the focus for it. If she had someone else to handle the finances, things might be better.
 
Another surge of magic rumbles through Berry’s slim body, causing her legs and torso to stretch out a little, but she also begins to fill out around her hips and chest. The gains are generous, enough to push her past the first four letters of the alphabet in her bust and provide her with shoulder-width hips, and the bar begins to fill with more faces that ought not to be familiar but are, as well as a smattering of first-timers like the two tarts that walked in earlier.
 
Cheeri squeals as the tile floor beneath them suddenly shifts into a fine wood finish, glistening with signs of obvious care. She tugs on her friend’s arm and bounces in her seat. “Omigosh Red, look, look!”
 
“I see,” the nurse manages to grunt, watching as her target from earlier in the night stumbles out of the bathroom, and then seems to disappear. It seems that the tired, worn out dive atmosphere is more his style, and as the bar changed, some of the patrons simply weren’t regulars anymore. But it isn’t like he isn’t being replaced with tastier morsels…
 
Cheeri looks back at Berry as she struggles to make sense of the various memories whirling around in her head. While admittedly not the quickest on the uptake, a delightfully devious thought occurs to the teacher-turned-tart as she remembers her own transformative encounter with Fuschia Blush. A small smile slides across her face as she stares at Berry until the bartender makes eye contact, then turns to her friend.
 
“Red, when you give a girl that stuff, you can influence her, right?” The nurse manages a nod, and Cheeri smiles wider. “Then you totes have to follow my lead, okay?”
 
Redheart opens her mouth to respond, but is quickly cut off by the more aggressive than usual Cheeri, and the sudden kiss that she plants on her friend’s lips. Only, it’s not a greeting, or even a friendly sort of sign of affection; no, this is undoubtedly to make up for the bartender cutting them off earlier. With interest, the nurse notes as Cheeri slides her tongue into Redheart’s mouth, slick, sloppy sounds escaping through the small spaces between their lips. As the pink-haired woman slides off her seat and into her larger friend’s lap, she turns both of them so that they can watch Berry’s next stage.
 
What a pair of tarted up sluts, Berry thinks, watching the two busty women go at one another. Were she still in her right mind, the bartender would break up the public display of affection in an instant, but for some reason, seeing the two friends make out, mashing their bodies against one another as they grind together makes her feel delightfully aroused.
 
She isn’t on the hunt for a girlfriend or anything, but after her husband had left both her and their ‘failing business’, Berry had been opened up to a world of new possibilities. It was due, in large part, to a small group of investors from a large, south-western city who were looking to expand their influence into new markets around the country. With their help, Berry had been able to get out from under the bank and begin to build up the bar that she’d always dreamed of having. Stocked with fine liquor, a place for people to come, unwind, and escape some of the heavier pressures that might be weighing down on them. Maybe even have a few business deals in the mix too.
 
Berry’s clothing changes this time, her light-casual and apron combo shifting into a deep purple, high neck, knee length and backless cocktail dress. It’s a little conservative for the taste of the two girls necking on top of each other, but the fabric cinches inward abruptly, making it much more form fitting; certainly acceptable for a bartender-slash-manager who wants to look her best. Add in a pair of stunning heels, and a fashionable purple-pearl necklace, and the wonton women are inclined to give her a pass.
 
On their other side, the increasingly crowded bar suddenly seems far more spacious. The walls stretch out in every direction, and the bartop along with it, dozens of bottles of liquor appearing on the shelves as they pop into existence behind the counter. The light fixtures shift, giving a dim but welcoming atmosphere, enough to work by if necessary, but also to give secrecy if anyone were inclined to engage in slightly intimate activities. These shifts are unseen by everyone but the two transformed tarts, and perhaps the one who is currently changing, though she seems too wrapped up in her own world.
 
“Miss Punch?” a voice calls beside her, bringing Berry back to reality. She unsteadily props herself up into a standing position with her arms, glancing to the speaker. She’s a young thing, probably not even out of college yet, but still all smiles. “Are you feeling all right?”
 
“I think so,” Berry mutters in a slightly huskier tone than she was expecting, “just, a hot flash or something I guess.”
 
The girl giggles and shakes her head. “Oh, Miss Punch, you’re a riot!” A hand sticks out in the distance, and the girl gasps. “Oh gosh, I’ve got one. I’ll let you know if I need help, okay?”
 
“Yeah, sure,” the bartender mutters as she notices that there are several other young women in similar dress to the girl bouncing around the building. Who are these women?
 
Employees; her employees, of course! With the extra funding, Berry has been able to grow her business and actually turn a profit. A fair chunk goes to the investors, but she’s able to keep her bar well stocked, hire an accountant, extra help serving, and she still manages to bring help and comfort to those who seek her out. Still on wobbly legs, Berry smiles at the two new girls who had come in earlier, and are now making themselves quite at home on the barstool. Clenching her legs together, Berry sighs, wondering if she herself ought to find a hookup for the night. It wouldn’t be especially difficult, and maybe she could make some college-age boy’s night by saying he got to sleep with a cougar.
 
Wait…
 
As Berry’s face bunches up in confusion, Redheart breaks her messy kiss with her friend. Both girls pant for several seconds before the nurse gulps and ask, “Cherri? I need to know for research purposes later, but what kind of drink did you have Berry mix?”
 
The teacher gives her best innocent smile and reaches down to her own glass. Peeling the garnish off, she taps it against her friend’s lips, allowing Redheart’s tongue to rub up against it and watching in delight as the nurse’s eyes widen. Sliding the slice of fruit into the pink-haired woman’s mouth, Cheeri purrs, “Apple martini of course. Extra tart.”
 
Redheart moans as she tongues the fruit, quietly cursing and applauding her airheaded friend before bringing their lips back together, both girls tonguing the thick apple slice between them.
 
Berry moans as well, if for a very different reason. The magic rumbles through her body again, this time plumping up her thighs into comfortably meaty portions. Likewise, her stomach regains a slight layer of softness, as though indicative of her older but still feminine body. The cocktail dress shifts into two separate pieces, skirt riding up her legs until it reaches her backside, then inches higher still, showcasing the pink panties wedged snuggly against her swelling rump as it spills out into the open air.
 
Higher still, her top rides up over much of her belly, revealing the long, slim straps of her panties as they settle in right around her modestly slender waist. The neckline remains high, much to both Redheart and Cheeri’s dismay, but as their eyes settle on Berry’s chest, something delightfully unexpected happens.
 
Rather than stretch to accommodate the steady growth of Berry’s breasts, the fabric begins to rip. Redheart is almost immediately reminded of Cheeri’s own transformation, while the airheaded teacher feels her cunny clench at the memory of being in the bartender’s position. The helpless arousal, the desire to be huge as Redheart taunts her, touching herself the whole while. And then, something amazing happens; like getting attacked by a shark and then getting struck by lightening twice at the same time. Cheeri has another idea.
 
Popping her lips off the apple slice, she gives her friend a longing look. “Red?” she purrs, like sweet honey. “I wanna make Berry extra, extra slutty; just like you did with me.” The nurse raises an eyebrow, amazed that her friend is threading together such a scheme on the fly, but also intrigued enough to let her continue.
 
“All I want you to do is sit your cute little butt on the counter just as you are,” Cheeri gives her friend’s backside a little squeeze for emphasis, “and wait for Berry to make her move.”
 
Redheart very nearly bites through the apple at the touch of her friend, but is still interested enough to try. So, with her small legs working carefully off Cheeri’s comfy lap, the tiny terror plops herself down on the bar, shooting her best lust-filled look towards the bartender.
 
Berry visibly gulps as her dress continues to strain, now sporting a large cleavage window in the middle of her top. Cheeri has to admit that it’s nice, but only ‘just’ nice; and Berry could do so much better.
 
“Berry,” Cheeri begins, earning an uncertain stare from the wobbly proprietor. “Berry, how do you feel?”
 
“Good,” the throaty voice comes out again, seeming more natural this time. “I feel, really good.”
 
“Great,” Cheeri giggles. The amazon leans over the counter again, making note that Berry’s eyes focus in on her chest without any hesitation, as though waiting for them to spill out of her body stocking. Wanting to entice her further, Cheeri shifts her weight a little, forcing more and more of that heavy, creamy breastflesh out into the open air. Cheeri shudders as the bartender squirms, delighting in teasing the transforming woman. “But, I don’t think that you’re quite there yet.”
 
Berry’s eyes glaze over as she furrows her brow in confusion. “Quite there?”
 
“Mhmm,” the teacher purrs. “See, Red and me? We’re super slutty, kinda like you.”
 
“But, I’m not-” Berry sighs as she focuses in on the mass of mammeries in front of her. Was that really right? She’d just thought of herself as a cougar not so long ago, so maybe Cheeri was onto something. “But, what do you mean, not quite there?”
 
“Oh, yeah,” the bimbo giggles. “See, we’re tarts, and I think that you should be a tart too.” Reaching out, Cheeri slides a manicured fingernail along Berry’s cheek. “We live for teasing, and I think you would fit in great. But it’s not enough to be just sexy.” Fixing the bartender with a knowing smile, Cheeri makes her chest jiggle. “You have to be able to compete with both of us.”
 
Berry looks between the two girls and whimpers. This is all too much for her to process at the moment. Tarts? Competing with these two girls? How is she supposed to do anything like that? As a result, a large part of her is suddenly dead set against becoming a tart, whatever that means. It’s not okay, she reasons, flaunting herself around like that is just asking for trouble. After all, what would her husband think? And that’s when the small quiet voice speaks up.
 
Isn’t that the same thing she thought those years she waited for him? The same thing she thought when she turned down the investors? The same line of thinking that had led her to become Sour Grapes?
 
The fragile ‘husband’ defense falls almost immediately, and with it another tear appears in Berry’s top, this one resting and the bottom showcasing the gentle slope of her belly. Meanwhile, her breasts spill forward again, spreading the opening of her ‘boob-window’ more, enough so that the pink bra is visible underneath.
 
Cheeri claps her hands in delight, smiling. “Oh gosh Berry, you’re doing so great,” she giggles. “But it’s still not enough, you know that, right? If you want to become a tart, you gotta pop that bra right off; just like I did when Red changed me. You gotta have big, tarty, titties. Don’t you wanna be like me and Red?”
 
The bartender’s head bobbles as her breathing shortens. Bigger still? She whines, thrusting her chest upwards, as though hoping her jiggling will, in some way, snap the clearly offensive underwear straight off. That would show Cheeri that she could be just as much a tart as the younger girls. But to no avail.
 
“I, I want it,” Berry breathlessly pants, another tear appearing above the last, giving a good glimpse of the growing woman’s underbust. “Cheeri, I want to be a tart. Teach me.”
 
The girl’s eye widen in delight as she claps her hands together. “Omigosh, that sounds like so much fun, and you’re already so, so close!” Teasing forgotten, Cheeri leans in close and then glances towards her friend. “If you really want to be a tart, then you need to make out with Redheart, just like I did. That way, everybody in the bar can see how much of a tease you are.”
 
Berry gulps, glancing between the two girls and shivering in anticipation. “But, I shouldn’t, at least not out here. What if we go into my office and-”
 
“A tart isn’t ashamed of being a tart,” Redheart quips, cutting both women off. Popping her foot in impatience, she gives the older woman a rather smug smile and waves the apple slice in her direction. “If you want to be a tart, we’re going to service this garnish together, right now, in front of everyone.”
 
Cheeri goes red-faced at her friend’s declaration and then grabs Berry by the shoulders. Her smile could light up the room in an instant as she exclaims, “That! You have to do that, right now!”
 
The bartender grunts before untangling herself from Cheeri’s grip. With short, wobbly steps, Berry approaches the naughty nurse, who eagerly pops the slice back between her teeth and stares with half-lidded eyes at the approaching woman. Each step seems to stretch the obvious holes in Berry’s top further, the fabric already clinging on for dear life. Underneath, the straps of her bra protest, as if they somehow know their fate should she go through with the demand. But she can’t bring herself to stop, not when she’s already come so far. And so, placing her hands on either side of Redheart, the transforming tart leans in close and presses their lips together.
 
The nurse isn’t nearly so hesitant, immediately working the apple slice in and out of Berry’s mouth, like some sort of forced fruit blowjob. Berry feels herself getting wetter at the thought, and then clenching her legs together as she thinks of everyone in the bar staring at her in awe. She’s a tease, and she loves it. Her already stacked shelf expands further and the sound of sturdy stitching tearing is only drowned out by the music coming through the speakers.
 
Redheart’s tongue works its way into her mouth, and Berry feels herself responding in kind. At the same time, she feels the familiar touch of Cheeri’s fingers sliding up under her top. She almost pulls away, until she realizes what the teacher is going for.
 
The stiff fabric that once supported her massive melons slides out with ease, disappearing in a burst of pink sparks as it hits the ground. Berry breathes, forcing her chest into Redheart’s own, and feels the nurse respond in kind. The make-out battle extends from just being over the apple slice to involving both women’s bodies; breasts mashing together, Redheart’s legs wrapping around Berry’s waist, and the tell-tale, back and forth grinding of arousal.
 
A fourth tear rumbles down the middle of Berry’s top, which is now little better than a censor bar and mild support for her beautiful breasts. Even still, as the existing strips thin out, Berry’s dark purple areola come into view, begging for attention, at least until they are covered by a pair of star-shaped pasties. Perfect underwear for a slutty tart like herself, and from the way both girls are now groping her body, there were no complaints on their end either.
 
It’s an eternity later when the three women finally come up for air. Berry’s thick hair and dusky make up are the last signs of the magic that had made itself at home in her body. Well, that and the rather out of place pink and purple plastic bangles around her wrists that would look more appropriate on a girl half her age.
 
Breathless, Cheeri glances about the bar, smiling and noting that the threesome is the center of attention. All is as it should be with the world. Except, the bar doesn’t look any different than the last time it changed. A small twinge of disappointment rumbles through her belly as it dawns on her that the clientele isn’t going to undergo any more changes. Just as well, many of them are still recognizable, and seem to be in much better spirits with the extra company; especially the good looking young servers.
 
“Well, it’s good to see you two, too,” Berry chuckles, the matronly tart planting a kiss on each of the younger women’s cheeks. “But we really should save these kind of scenes for upstairs, so we don’t upset the guests.” Several whoops echo up from around the bar as several glasses are raised in response. It’s pretty clear that they don’t mind too much. But Redheart asks the question on both girls’ minds.
 
“What do you mean, upstairs?”
 
Berry looks surprised for a moment, then laughs. “No I don’t mean my bedroom, you needy girl.” Taking both women by the hand, Berry leads them towards the back and up a staircase. As they climb, a steady shaking sensation fills them, followed quickly after by the familiar sound of dance music. Pushing open a door in front of them, the two are blinded by a series of strobes and the steady pulse of sound. Bodies writhe on the dancefloor, bouncing, jerking, whatever they can manage. As the girls gawk, Berry smiles.
 
“It’s been a few weeks since your last night out, but I told you last time I’ve got a new venture; I call it Berry’s Cherry because it’s on top of the best bar in town. Now who’s up for some celebratory body shots!?”
 
As Berry grabs a nearby salt shaker, the two CHS employees quickly find that they are in no position to decline.
 
===
 
Nurse Redheart wakes with a blistering headache and feeling as though her tongue will flop out of her mouth at any moment. The only saving grace is that her face is buried in Cheeri’s ample assets, shielding her from daylight. Such grace is short lived however, as the teacher wakes up soon after, moaning and groaning, as though she were somehow taking the worst of last night. Redheart, naturally, gives the airhead a quick boot out of her bed. As the two women struggle through their morning routines, memories begin to filter in; both from last night, and even further back.
 
It was almost five years ago when the pair first met Berry Punch. The busty bar owner had been in a tight spot for some time on account of her husband, but recently acquired a substantial investment from a party she refused to name. As a result, Berry had been looking to improve and expand her business, and that meant higher extra help. The top-heavy trio had hit things off almost immediately, and the college co-eds had been brought on during the first round of hiring.
 
Cheeri was far more into it than Redheart, but that was due in part to the taller bimbo’s schedule allowing her more leniency when it came to working late. Still, the pink-haired woman was almost always available for theme nights, and the occasional wet T-shirt contest. Berry still fondly referred to those times as heavenly, where the tips fell like rain; she didn’t care that the under aged girls would get guys to buy them drinks. After all, who could say no to two pretty, stacked things like that?
 
With graduation and employment came fewer nights out, but Redheart and Cheeri always made it a point to visit Berry’s Bar whenever they could. After all, that’s where the duo refined the art of the tease under the watchful eyes of a woman who lived for it.
 
Cheeri drives them both to school, and the two set out about their days. Upon arriving at her room, Redheart immediately dims the lights and pulls down the shade in front of the door. Flopping into her chair, she covers her eyes and groans.
 
“What I wouldn’t give for another slow day today.” Still, she smiles and thanks the stars for such slutty sisters to share life with. So wrapped up in her changed and changing memories, that she doesn’t even notice that the remaining pink medicine bottle that she had left out on her desk is gone…
 
===
 
Across town, Berry punch pulls herself out of bed. The living space is small, but large enough considering anybody she brings in very rarely stays beyond the night. Cleaning herself up as best she can, the partying proprietor steps out into the Cheeri. Her investor is already waiting there, a manila folder held tight in her grip.
 
“Good morning, Miss Punch,” the woman says with a slow, southwestern drawl. “It would seem like you had a late night.”
 
“And you must be having an early morning,” the lady lush fires back with a small smile. “But since both of us now know that we look like death warmed over, why don’t we get straight down to business, Miss Jubilee?”