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Description
More TF stuff yea

- I’m going to need those reports processed and on my desk first thing Monday morning, do you think you’ll be able to manage that Ms. Sinclair?

Aubrey gritted her teeth in frustration as Mrs. Taylor (who worked half as hard as she did but in her managerial position got paid more than twice as much) stared at her across her desk with that irritatingly smug, self-assured smirk. The skanky old bitch - with her top cut so low she looked more like a high-grade prostitute than a manager at a major banking firm - had just dumped a metric tonne of tedious work on her once again, effectively cutting her chances of getting this weekend off to nil for the third time that month.
As had been made abundantly clear over the past few months as a new hire with the company, Aubrey was to be little more than Mrs. Taylor's subservient slave-girl. She hated the arrogant bitch with a passion, not least because Aubrey herself had fought hard to get to the position she was in and was forever hanging on by her fingernails, where Mrs. Taylor was barely qualified for her job but had almost total job security (it was common knowledge in the office that Mrs. Taylor kept her corner office secure by handing out frequent lewd ‘favours’ to her bosses). Nonetheless Mrs. Taylor did have serious clout with the higher-ups, enough to have Aubrey fired on a whim. Stifling a sigh, Aubrey did what she did best: she sucked it up.

- ...of course not, Mrs. Taylor.... thank you... I'll - I'll get right on that.

- See that you do. That will be all.

Gathering up the documents and quickly leaving the arrogant cunt’s office, it took all of Aubrey's willpower not to slam the door behind her, hard. She managed not to only by focusing on the plan she had been mulling over for a good while now, which now seemed too tempting to resist; Aubrey was going to give that arrogant bitch a much-needed dose of humility. Dropping the pile of pointless, time consuming make-work on her own tiny cubicle desk Aubrey wasted no time in calling up the TF app on her phone. She had been debating deleting the program and severing the costly subscription needed to utilise its transformative services for a while now, but right at that moment she was thankful she hadn't.
Truth be told Aubrey had had her little plan cooking for a good while, long enough that the exact form and duration of the transformation she wished to inflict upon her boss was already queued up on the app, armed and ready to go just soon as she found the nerve to see the thing through. Aubrey wasn’t a monster, she didn’t want to take the woman’s life away; the plan was simply to turn Mrs. Taylor into a nondescript stapler and hide her in a desk drawer for two full weeks, a long enough unexplained absence that the head office guys would have to fire her once she reappeared. Swept up in her own frustration and eager to wipe the arrogant smirk off of Mrs. Taylor’s face, Aubrey’s typically cool head left her and she quick-stepped back to the woman’s office, phone in hand. Aubrey rapped on the door and entered without being beckoned.
Mrs. Taylor glanced up with a look of mild surprise that quickly turned to anger.

- Is there something I can help you with?

Aubrey tried and failed to think of a good ‘last word’ to get in, and after a beat settled for pointing her phone in Mrs. Taylor’s general direction, shooting her her own gloating little grin and tapping the huge green ‘TRANSFORM!’ button on the app’s display.

- Error: Premium TF app user detected! Premium users are exempt from and immune to all attempts at involuntary transformation! Shutting down...

Nobody said a word. Aubrey didn't realise she wasn't breathing. It took a long moment for the meaning of the automated message to make sense in Aubrey's head. Mrs. Taylor sat behind her desk and watched, bemused, as Aubrey’s gleefully determined expression slowly fell until her face hung in total disbelief.

- P-Premium... user...?

- Well, look who's the wolf in sheep’s clothing. If I’m not mistaken I think you were trying to transform me, weren’t you Ms. Sinclaire?

Aubrey shook her head dumbly, still staring at the display on her phone.

- N-No, no… I just… th-this isn't what it.. I...

Mrs. Taylor shook her own head in mock disappointment, tutting at the would-be assassin before her as she plucked her phone up between her manicured fingers and opened the display. Glassy eyes wide with dismay and dread, Aubrey shuddered in horror as a malicious grin slowly spread across her boss's face.

- Silly girl. Can't even work a transformation app properly. Maybe you would benefit from a demonstration?

Aubrey gulped hard, swallowing the lump in her throat, feet frozen to the floor as the full extent of her peril struck her, immobilised even though she knew she should run for her life, her voice barely above a whisper as Mrs. Taylor stood and casually sauntered over to her. It took Aubrey a moment to realise with horror that the woman had her own phone aimed at her, that she was doing something with it, tapping the screen with long pink fingernails. Suddenly what was about to happen, the punishment she was about to receive for her very unwise trasngression, became startingly apparent to the young girl.

- Oh G-God, no- w-wait! Please!

Aubrey stammered pathetically, taking a couple of limp steps backwards as Mrs. Taylor advanced upon her, the same old expression of self-satisfied smugness on the woman's face now filling Aubrey with mind-bending terror rather than loathing. The last thing Aubrey saw was Mrs. Taylor’s eyes flashing with malicious intent, before everything went white.

- ...please...

Description
More TF stuff yea

- I’m going to need those reports processed and on my desk first thing Monday morning, do you think you’ll be able to manage that Ms. Sinclair?

Aubrey gritted her teeth in frustration as Mrs. Taylor (who worked half as hard as she did but in her managerial position got paid more than twice as much) stared at her across her desk with that irritatingly smug, self-assured smirk. The skanky old bitch - with her top cut so low she looked more like a high-grade prostitute than a manager at a major banking firm - had just dumped a metric tonne of tedious work on her once again, effectively cutting her chances of getting this weekend off to nil for the third time that month.
As had been made abundantly clear over the past few months as a new hire with the company, Aubrey was to be little more than Mrs. Taylor's subservient slave-girl. She hated the arrogant bitch with a passion, not least because Aubrey herself had fought hard to get to the position she was in and was forever hanging on by her fingernails, where Mrs. Taylor was barely qualified for her job but had almost total job security (it was common knowledge in the office that Mrs. Taylor kept her corner office secure by handing out frequent lewd ‘favours’ to her bosses). Nonetheless Mrs. Taylor did have serious clout with the higher-ups, enough to have Aubrey fired on a whim. Stifling a sigh, Aubrey did what she did best: she sucked it up.

- ...of course not, Mrs. Taylor.... thank you... I'll - I'll get right on that.

- See that you do. That will be all.

Gathering up the documents and quickly leaving the arrogant cunt’s office, it took all of Aubrey's willpower not to slam the door behind her, hard. She managed not to only by focusing on the plan she had been mulling over for a good while now, which now seemed too tempting to resist; Aubrey was going to give that arrogant bitch a much-needed dose of humility. Dropping the pile of pointless, time consuming make-work on her own tiny cubicle desk Aubrey wasted no time in calling up the TF app on her phone. She had been debating deleting the program and severing the costly subscription needed to utilise its transformative services for a while now, but right at that moment she was thankful she hadn't.
Truth be told Aubrey had had her little plan cooking for a good while, long enough that the exact form and duration of the transformation she wished to inflict upon her boss was already queued up on the app, armed and ready to go just soon as she found the nerve to see the thing through. Aubrey wasn’t a monster, she didn’t want to take the woman’s life away; the plan was simply to turn Mrs. Taylor into a nondescript stapler and hide her in a desk drawer for two full weeks, a long enough unexplained absence that the head office guys would have to fire her once she reappeared. Swept up in her own frustration and eager to wipe the arrogant smirk off of Mrs. Taylor’s face, Aubrey’s typically cool head left her and she quick-stepped back to the woman’s office, phone in hand. Aubrey rapped on the door and entered without being beckoned.
Mrs. Taylor glanced up with a look of mild surprise that quickly turned to anger.

- Is there something I can help you with?

Aubrey tried and failed to think of a good ‘last word’ to get in, and after a beat settled for pointing her phone in Mrs. Taylor’s general direction, shooting her her own gloating little grin and tapping the huge green ‘TRANSFORM!’ button on the app’s display.

- Error: Premium TF app user detected! Premium users are exempt from and immune to all attempts at involuntary transformation! Shutting down...

Nobody said a word. Aubrey didn't realise she wasn't breathing. It took a long moment for the meaning of the automated message to make sense in Aubrey's head. Mrs. Taylor sat behind her desk and watched, bemused, as Aubrey’s gleefully determined expression slowly fell until her face hung in total disbelief.

- P-Premium... user...?

- Well, look who's the wolf in sheep’s clothing. If I’m not mistaken I think you were trying to transform me, weren’t you Ms. Sinclaire?

Aubrey shook her head dumbly, still staring at the display on her phone.

- N-No, no… I just… th-this isn't what it.. I...

Mrs. Taylor shook her own head in mock disappointment, tutting at the would-be assassin before her as she plucked her phone up between her manicured fingers and opened the display. Glassy eyes wide with dismay and dread, Aubrey shuddered in horror as a malicious grin slowly spread across her boss's face.

- Silly girl. Can't even work a transformation app properly. Maybe you would benefit from a demonstration?

Aubrey gulped hard, swallowing the lump in her throat, feet frozen to the floor as the full extent of her peril struck her, immobilised even though she knew she should run for her life, her voice barely above a whisper as Mrs. Taylor stood and casually sauntered over to her. It took Aubrey a moment to realise with horror that the woman had her own phone aimed at her, that she was doing something with it, tapping the screen with long pink fingernails. Suddenly what was about to happen, the punishment she was about to receive for her very unwise trasngression, became startingly apparent to the young girl.

- Oh G-God, no- w-wait! Please!

Aubrey stammered pathetically, taking a couple of limp steps backwards as Mrs. Taylor advanced upon her, the same old expression of self-satisfied smugness on the woman's face now filling Aubrey with mind-bending terror rather than loathing. The last thing Aubrey saw was Mrs. Taylor’s eyes flashing with malicious intent, before everything went white.

- ...please...