Deal with "the other side"

Out of boredom — fantasy to the studio!!! By the way — there's a bit of porn here, mostly just fluff and a little plot.

Haven't written anything like this in a long time, sorry if it's off.

short, not tall, hair blonde always braided into a ponytail. Don't think it's some kind of persona, no, I just have no incentive to take care of myself. I'm a gray mouse! I work in a library where practically no one sees me, except maybe old grannies who are always discussing how the youth these days respects nothing in their lives, and the occasional "nerdy" students, who basically don't notice me or perceive me as local furniture. Why bother doing anything with myself under such conditions?

I'm 22, I graduated from a vocational school, where I didn't make any close friends, didn't go out drinking with everyone, and generally, was nothing special. A pitiful sight — isn't it? But my story won't be about a boring life filled with routine and the daily grind in a stuffy one-room apartment in an old barracks that should have been demolished long ago. My story begins with the mysticism or fantasy that happened to me on March 8, 2012.

That day, I woke up late, it was a day off and the weather outside was awful. I had no one to expect congratulations from either, so I didn't even realize right away that there was a black matte envelope lying at my door. Only after eating did I discover it and picked it up with interest. The paper had no address or any other information, except for the name "Yulia" embossed in gold — my name. I opened the envelope and read the lines. I don't know who came up with such a joke, but I didn't like it. The text said that I could make small deals on myself, I didn't need to pay anyone with money, but I always had to choose wisely. And the last line read: "The first deal will be waiting for you on your windowsill." I grimaced at such humor, but still went to my window and pulled back the heavy curtains. On the dusty windowsill, there really was a small envelope, on which was written the following:

"Deal: I want to be noticed, I'm willing to give up a little of my purity for it."

And nothing else. I turned the envelope over and, deciding there was nothing scary about it — opened it. The black paper envelope was empty. Well, if someone was filming this right now, they didn't get my disappointed expression. The strange joke went into the trash and I completely forgot about it, though not for long...

The mysticism began exactly a week later, when a couple of guys noticed me at the library entrance, undressing near me in the cloakroom. No, they didn't come up and talk to me, but they noticed and even discussed something. The second incident happened the same day, when a timid student, taking a book from my hands, lightly touched me and smiled dreamily. Then such occurrences started happening more and more often, but I wouldn't have remembered the envelope if it weren't for the second event coinciding — "I'm willing to give up a little purity for it." Yes, I lost a little purity, or rather — I acquired a lot of dirt. It's embarrassing to say, but I started leaking quite heavily between my legs, and accordingly, smelling more strongly of a purely feminine musk. I had to wash more often and more carefully, you couldn't just wipe with a piece of paper, you had to use proper wipes, preferably scented ones, or even better — wash up like five times a day. When I realized this, the deal envelopes appeared on my window again.

In the evening, even before sunset, I was changing into home clothes and suddenly noticed several black rectangles on the dusty windowsill. Throwing my T-shirt aside, I approached and picked them up. There were three:

"Deal: I want to fix my nose and am even willing to give up a little eyesight."

"Deal: I need beautiful breasts, and I'm willing to sacrifice my butt."

"Deal: I want a handsome guy and am willing to give up my innocence."

Normal, right? What kind of fantasy is this anyway?! If these deals really work, then I need to look at this rationally and cautiously, maybe I'm selling my soul to demons with such actions! I set the envelopes aside and forgot about them for a long time. For about three weeks I lived in my swamp, seeing no prospects, no hopes. And then I decided to test something that couldn't possibly be chalked up to coincidence — the "nose" deal. No one's going to accidentally fix my nose, right? Correct? Breasts can grow on their own from hormones or something else, and a boy might also find me by accident, though unlikely. So that evening I decided and opened the envelope. It was also empty, however, not entirely...

Two weeks passed from the day I made the deal and my thoughts solidified — this is some kind of mysticism, it's unreal and moreover — scary. In two weeks, my crooked, plump nose straightened out, as if by itself, and even slimmed down a bit, show my photos from a month ago, and no one would recognize me in that big-nosed horse, the nose was now beautiful. However, I paid for it exactly one "unit," one unit of my vision, getting nearsightedness. The ophthalmologist said I read too much, that's why my vision dropped, and really! what's strange about that? Now I'll have to enjoy my new nose and wear cheap glasses on it. And exactly on the day I bought simple glasses, I found two more envelopes on the window, as if someone was hooking me on this strange magic.

"Deal: I need a new apartment, for this I'll give up my belongings."

"Deal: I want to be beautiful, my face should be beautiful, for this I'll give up part of my knowledge."

For the trip to my parents, I took the usual minimum and set off on my five-day journey. My parents were happy, and I had a good rest with my family. Already on the way back, I got a call from the housing association and was told that my apartment was completely destroyed by the collapse of our barracks after severe flooding. Seven residents died, and the city hall finally turned on their brains and started moving their butts to provide new housing for the dispossessed, as if they only just noticed the dilapidated state of the collapsed building.

About a month later, after settling into the new place, I again found black envelopes on the windowsill — three old, unopened ones, and two new ones.

"Deal: I've always dreamed of long legs, I'm even willing to sacrifice my calves."

"Deal: I want a promotion at work, I'll give up part of my speech in exchange."

Too bad it's not an exchange for things, that's at least replenishable, but the rest could turn into anything. However, I'd been itching for a long time to change my swampy life again. So I started choosing and my choice fell on "I want a handsome guy and am willing to give up my innocence." Anyway, sooner or later I'll lose it, so why wait, if I'll have a handsome guy? But, my God, how wrong I was...

He really was handsome, well-built and attractive, the kind girls whisper about at their desks and giggle quietly about, the kind guys they wish for when fortune-telling, and some moan at night imagining such a type. And he noticed me when I was walking home, he called me to a cafe, he told me wonderful stories, and I thought it was just a fairy tale and he would be mine now. I drank a lot, invited him to my place, as he insisted on it. And already at home, he literally raped me... He was a real rapist, not my destiny. The evil pretty boy twisted my arms, tied them with a belt, gagged my mouth with my own panties, and began brutally taking me in every possible place, not embarrassed by dirt or blood. I sobbed and suffered, cried and silently begged for him to stop, but he was tireless and merciless. First, he "opened up" my pussy, then went for my ass. I lost consciousness from the pain, and waking up near dawn, spent another hour trying to get out of the restraining belt. What can I say, I wanted a handsome guy in exchange for innocence, I got him. The police accepted the report, they ran me through all the examinations and said they would look for him, but I didn't believe it for a second, because after such a story I again found envelopes on the window.

"Deal: I want to love sex, I don't want to suffer from a cock and be afraid of it, I'll give up my peace for it."

"Deal: I want to be happier, part of my morality is my price."

My hands were shaking, I was afraid of everything and everywhere, such traumas as this "pretty boy" don't heal quickly, and maybe never. I sat on the sofa and looked at my envelopes, what do they carry? Only evil? Or am I just losing myself in my unrealized impulses? They all said what I wanted and they weren't mistaken, I really wanted all of it, but what the price would be, I didn't know.

I decided on another envelope after a nervous breakdown closer to summer, when I again wanted to hang myself. I was afraid of all the men around me, I was sickened by their gazes, in which I saw only lust and a desire to harm me. In every "cock-bearer" I saw only rapists. Then I opened this envelope and read the golden words on the black paper for certainty — "I want to love sex, I don't want to suffer from a cock and be afraid of it, I'll give up my peace for it." After these words, I crumpled the opened envelope, but noticed it wasn't empty, inside was a gift card for five thousand to a sex shop that was right in my building, in the basement. And this is the solution?! What nonsense... I threw the card in the drawer and forgot about it by night. However, I remembered it ten days later, when I got tired of rubbing my crotch from the frequently arising heat of desire. Yes, changes happened, I became a lustful slut who wants to cum every day, and more than once. At first it scared me, then the pleasure from orgasms softened the distress, and then I loved this passion that deprived me of peace. I started masturbating in the mornings, when there was about an hour before work, I put my fingers on my raped hole in the curly hairs, and stroked it, as if apologizing for what it had to endure, then I rubbed it and got a flash of joy and satisfaction that made my legs tremble. The second time I touched myself at work, when no one was around, I again touched myself down there, constantly afraid someone might notice me in this archive, and came again. At the end of the day, I rubbed myself before bed, so as not to wake up at night. Of course, with such new libido, I stopped being scared of everyone, but it didn't heal me. And that's when I took the offered card and bought myself an excellent quiet vibrator in the shape of a sixteen-centimeter cock and was happy with the purchase. When I returned home, new envelopes were lying on my windowsill:

"Deal: I want to cancel the deals, and am willing to return everything as it was."

"Deal: I want more money, I'm willing to give my body as payment."

I didn't like the envelopes, I just tore the first one to pieces and threw it away so nothing would take my apartment and nice nose away. Strangely, but over time I began to understand that in fact all the changes weren't bad, I just messed up with the pretty boy, I could have lost my virginity in a simpler way. I put the second envelope in the drawer with the others, and also examined them again — six envelopes, six deals. What to choose next? I made a choice, and a radical one:

"I want a promotion at work, I'll give up part of my speech in exchange." I said, opening the first envelope, immediately opening the second. "And I want to be beautiful, my face should be beautiful, for this I'll give up part of my knowledge."

That's it! Bridges burned, I will be beautiful, and I will finally crawl out of my swamp!

About a month passed as I settled into the new place, I don't know what knowledge I gave up for my face, but at the new job I obviously didn't need them, everything went smoothly and like clockwork. And apparently after my confirmation in the position was completed, I discovered new envelopes on my window:

"Deal: Wonderful flexibility — I don't have it, I want it! I'll exchange modesty for vulgarity, without looking!"

"Deal: Beautiful hair, shine and silk — I need this! I ask for free!"

"Deal: Passion, that's what I'm missing, I'll give up a little more eyesight."

"Deal: I've always wanted a girlfriend, I'll take even a bad one, I won't spare my body for her."

Stranger and stranger, though much of it doesn't scare me. I don't believe in free gifts, but how temptingly it sounds... I take the envelope and open it!

"Beau-ti-ful hair, shine and silk — I need this! I assk for free!" I said, as a shampoo sample fell out of the envelope onto the floor. Well, the hint is clear, I'll wash my hair today. And not stopping there, I open the second envelope from the stash. "I need beau-ti-ful tits, and I'm willing to sacrifice my butt!"

Thunder didn't strike, but I wasn't expecting it. Finished my daytime and evening chores, washed in the shower and washed my hair with the new shampoo. Yes, and also measured my breasts, just in case they grow...

The hair changes were the fastest in my memory, the color changed from wash to wash, becoming almost copper, beautiful and silky, my braid was now like a rope, and to the touch it was magnificent, soft and silky. But about free, I was too hasty... Though probably it's my own fault, I washed my hair with the sample in the shower, and I got covered entirely with this composition. No, hair didn't start growing on my face and chest, "Thank all the saints!", but the copper silky and fast-growing hair sprouted there... Down below, and under the arms for good measure. You know, I didn't shave my armpits before, what grew there didn't bother me, but now there were just thickets, let it go a bit and these curls grow up to fifteen cm long, and if I, God forbid, sweat, it's just bundles of fiberglass. Like it or not, I had to take care of myself — shave every three days, and trim the pubic hair with scissors twice a week, otherwise it catches on the underwear.

"I want to be happier, part of my morality is my price!" And then I went to sleep, even forgetting to jerk off at night.

In the morning I had already forgotten my earlier motives, appreciated the opened envelope granting happiness and just sighed bitterly — where am I without morality?

I didn't start any new intrigues, my tormented Vibro and memories of the Editor were enough for now. But I wanted sharpness just awfully. And so I was again standing at the windowsill and spinning a new envelope in my hands with surprise...

"Deal: I'm tired of everything, I want to be glad for a new life, I'll give up everything for a new perspective."

Wow! How they tempt me! A new life... Though no one promises me it will be better, on the other hand, it's a great way to use the envelopes I have now, and there are five of them. If suddenly everything goes topsy-turvy — I'll open this one and start from a clean slate. I smiled and, opening the drawer, took out the earlier envelopes. To risk, then go all the way, what do we have here? Aha, excellent...

"Deal: I've always dreamed of long legs, I'm even willing to sacrifice my calves for them."

"Deal: Passion, that's what I'm missing, I'll give up a little more eyesight."

In the package, quite large, were magnificent high-heeled boots that would suit the current autumn perfectly. Moreover, the shoes had no identifying marks or labels, as if made to order. I was just planning to buy shoes by the end of the month, and now — everything's already there!

I wore the new shoes to work the very next day, and, despite the heel height, I was quite comfortable in them. I spent the whole new day prancing in beautiful new shoes and even when I quietly masturbated my pussy with two