The Booty Beat [Man to Party Woman TG]

For Bruce Wayne

By TheSpiralledEye

Michael comes home to find his apartment building slowly transforming into a nightclub and the more he tries to resist the urge to dance, the more the building changes him. 

~

It had been a long day, a long week, really, and Michael couldn’t wait to get home and do nothing. Back in his twenties, Friday night had been party night. He’d rush home after work, change and head straight to the club, not returning till the early hours of the next morning, sometimes later. But those days were far behind him now. These days, all he wanted to do on a Friday night was sit on his couch and watch whatever brainrot was on TV.

So when he opened the front door of his apartment building and felt the telltale tingle of bass travelling up his legs, he groaned. Somebody must have been having a party. He stained his ears, but the music was barely there, and almost seemed to be coming from every direction at once. 

“Hopefully, whoever it is, they’re on a floor far from mine.” 

He headed for the elevator only to see every apartment dweller's worst nightmare: an out-of-order sign.

“Stairs it is.” He huffed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He started up the first flight of stairs, still listening to that distant music as two curvaceous women in mini dresses skipped past him. It was a miracle they didn’t fall, considering the height of their heels. They giggled as they passed him before disappearing down the curve of the stairs, probably about to jump in a cab and head to the nearest club. Ah, youth. He turned the corner onto the first floor and groaned as the lights dimmed. There was a strange, almost neon glow to them, probably some sort of emergency light system. If power was out on this floor, what were the odds it was out on his floor too? 

He kept heading up the stairs, expecting at some point to pass one of his neighbours complaining about the dim lights, but none of the regulars seemed to be about. To his surprise, he passed more bodacious women, all dressed to the nines with make-up fit for a club, giggling and whispering away to one another. Michael had never realised just how many young, beautiful women lived in his building; maybe he needed to start paying more attention. 

As he passed each one, the music seemed to get louder; they were humming along with it, their bodies swaying slightly to the beat with each step they took. He stopped straining his ears once more trying to place the song, but the more he tried to listen, the harder it was to notice, almost like it was trying to hide. Not that it was possible. 

Yet another pack of party ready looking women appeared on the stairs, and this time, Michael wasn't able to keep his eyes to himself. One of the women was wearing a tight-fitting, sequined mini dress that looked ready to fall off at any second. She giggled as she passed him, winking, and Michael quickly forced his hanging jaw closed. He was so focused on trying to look less like a creep, he didn't notice the sequins brush from her dress onto his shirt. 

“Have a nice night!” He choked out, immediately regretting opening his mouth at all.

“Oh, we will!” The woman giggled before disappearing down the stairwell. 

Michael wished the ground would swallow him up; God, how embarrassing. He hadn't been so obvious since he was a horny teenager; those would probably be laughing about him all night. The lonely, pathetic guy who literally dropped his jaw staring at them. 

Thankfully, he was finally on his floor and quickly unlocked his apartment. That same, strange, neon light bathed everything, but he was too embarrassed to care. What he needed was some nice brain-numbing TV to try and forget about all this. Maybe there would be a good horror movie on; he already had the mood lighting. 

Michael flicked through the channels, finding the usual options: reality shows, late-night news, reruns of old shows nobody cared about anymore, but there was something…off about them all. 

All the hosts seemed bubblier than usual, even the male ones giggled and was that one wearing nail polish? Every ad break was the same: shoes, make-up, dresses. There were none of the usual things, no ads for meds, no beer commercials, what was going on here? Was it ladies' night at all the TV stations or something? The bass thumping in his skull was starting to get stronger now; Michael shook his head to try and get rid of it, but it stayed.

With a hiss of annoyance, he clicked the TV off, hoping that it might be the source. The bass lessened, but didn't go away. Michael scratched at his side absentmindedly, feeling something catch under his nails. When he looked down, his jaw dropped. Sequins, far more than could possibly have come off a dress he passed in the hall. They were spreading like scales across his skin, replacing his work shirt with something sparkly and skin-tight. 

“What the-!?”
He pulled at the sequins, trying to rip them off, but that only made them cling to him tightly. They started to spread, travelling up his chest and down his legs, disintegrating the fabric of his outfit, and in some cases, swallowing it up. His pants rushed up his legs till they only reached his mid-thigh before transforming into yet more sequins. For a moment, they hugged his legs, then split in the middle; his outfit was being transformed into a sparkly mini dress, just like the women in the halls had been wearing. 

“Stop! What’s going on? I can't wear a dress!”

It felt so wrong, the chest was empty, the halter neck stretched over his thick neck. Men just aren’t meant to wear this sort of thing, and it seemed the dress agreed. A moment later, it started to shift and move across his skin, the sequins scraped against him, making his skin tingle as it started to move in turn. Michael groaned as he felt his skin start to fill out the dress, first in the chest. He could only watch in shock and confusion as two heavy, womanly breasts grew in. He could feel his new nipples brushing against the sequins just under the low neckline of the dress, and his middle cinching in to form an hourglass figure. 

A second later, his hips clicked and began to stretch, further enhancing his figure and making his ass swell to match. His thighs thickened, and his calves thinned, which paired with his new curves made his whole centre of balance shift, and Michael stumbled. With each step, he felt his new curves move independently of him. His chest and ass jiggled like jelly, even after he stopped moving, if only for a second. 

Just as Michael was getting his balance, his feet shot up at a strange angle, and he looked down to see a pair of glittering heels with lacy finishes on his feet. He fell back, landing on his now plump ass as he tugged at them, trying in vain to undo the straps and free his now delicate, feminine feet. It was no use, though; they refused to be removed, and Michael could only watch as a sheen of red polish appeared over his manicured toenails. 

He got to his feet and continued to tug at the dress, ignoring the feeling of soft hair falling down his back as the rest of his body slowly caught up. His feet continued to stumble, almost against his will; no, wait, he wasn’t stumbling, they were tapping. They were moving in time to that strange bass and music that was growing ever louder. His hips began to tick, moving up and down slightly in time and making his ass sway. No matter how hard he tried to stop, his body refused. 

His shoulders were moving back and forth now, shimmying himself around the room. His body was full of joy, but his mind was screaming in confusion. What on Earth was happening!? Michael looked around, feeling the bass travelling up his legs, and he swayed, taking in the low neon lights. It had to be the building somehow; if he could escape, maybe he would stop changing! 

Resisting the urge to sway to the beat, Michael stumbled out of his room. Every few steps, his hips would shimmy to the side or his fingers would click, but he was making progress. The elevator dinged at the end of the hall, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure it was safe to run down the stairs in heels while fighting his body’s urge to dance. It was fixed, one short ride to the lobby, and he’d be home free. 

The doors slid open, and the music was louder than ever, but he still stepped inside.  Salvation was in his sight; he reached for the lobby button only for his vision to suddenly disappear as a wild mound of curly hair fell over his face. That tingling he’d been ignoring had reached a fever pitch. Michael pushed the dark curly hair out of his face with his now dainty hand and found, to his shock, that the elevator buttons had changed. 

The lobby button had been replaced; in fact, all of them had. There was only one option now: a shiny silver button marked CLUB. There was no choice; the doors had already closed. So without hesitation, Michael hit the button and felt the elevator start to descend. The lower it went, the stronger the bass got and the louder the music. Michael felt his body screaming to move; he couldn’t help but tap his foot to the beat. Whatever was happening here, he could fight it, he could…

The doors opened, and a wave of heat and air washed over him, making Michael gasp. The lobby had been replaced with a room of neon and smoke; a nightclub. The dance floor was packed with people he half recognised; other residents of his building, but changed. They were all dressed to the nines, throwing themselves across the floor to the beat of the drums, and music deafened their ears. 

Across the room, a packed bar poured drinks that seemed to almost glow under the neon lights, and Michael felt his control finally crumble completely. His old, younger self came out, the one who could party till dawn. Michael threw himself into the room, embracing the heat of it all as bodies writhed and pressed against one another. His new curves jiggled to the beat, moving with the music as if they had a life of their own, but he didn’t care. 

All the stress of his work week faded into music and the rhythm of the club. His butt twerked, his shoulders shook; Michael threw back his head and breathed in deep. This was the life. He had no idea how it had happened, but he was grateful and couldn't wait to dance the night away.