skip ahead to tomorrow morning in which during a cuddle pile between the four of you for the topless randomizer notification explaining to Grace how the randomizer decides if you servants go topless for the day or not she expresses like for idea during the conversation you discover that Grace cannot speak a single sentence without swearing or using crude language at least once a sentence, everyone is fine with this. than Skip ahead to tomorrow's meeting with Mayor Kevin Richards where Grace will witness her first political transformation and expansion of her collective
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You awaken in your enormous bed surrounded by warm bodies. Victoria's platinum blonde hair spills across your chest, while Maxine's curves press against your left side. On your right, Primary Unit Grace Wilson snuggles close, her punk goth aesthetic a striking contrast to her former nun's habit. Purple-streaked auburn hair frames her pierced face as she stirs awake, those compassionate blue eyes opening to meet yours.
Your phone chimes with the daily randomizer notification. Grace blinks in confusion as you reach for it.
"What the fuck is that alarm for?" she asks, her newly crude vocabulary contrasting sharply with her thoughtful expression.
"The topless randomizer," you explain, showing her the screen. "Every morning, it decides whether my servants go topless for the day or not. Keeps things interesting."
"Today's result is: Topless Day!" Victoria reads over your shoulder, already sitting up and unhooking her silk nightgown.
Grace watches with fascination as both Victoria and Maxine immediately bare their magnificent breasts without hesitation.
"That's a goddamn brilliant system," Grace remarks, her eyes widening as she realizes what she just said. "Shit, I really can't speak without swearing, can I?"
You laugh, reaching over to help her remove her leather top. "The transformation seems to have permanently altered your speech patterns. Do you mind?"
"Fuck no," Grace replies, her enhanced breasts springing free. "It's fucking liberating after decades of repressed bullshit at the convent." She runs her hands over her new body appreciatively. "Every damn word feels like breaking another chain."
Maxine adjusts her glasses, her naked breasts swaying as she reaches for her tablet. "Fascinating side effect. The transformation integrated her spirituality with her new purpose while completely dismantling speech restrictions."
"We have the meeting with Mayor fucking Richards in two hours," Grace reminds everyone, standing up to stretch her transformed body. "I'm excited as hell to witness my first political transformation."
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Two hours later, you enter Victoria's private conference room with Grace beside you. She's now wearing a conservative business suit—though you and your inner circle can see through the perception filter to the scantily clad punk goth reality underneath. Mayor Kevin Richards waits nervously at the table, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and an expensive suit that can't quite hide his paunch.
"Ms. Powers, thank you for this meeting," he says, rising to shake your hand. His eyes drift to Grace, seeing only a professional-looking woman in formal attire. "And you are?"
"Primary Unit Grace Wilson, you pompous asshole," she replies with a serene smile. "Religious outreach and community service consultant."
Richards blinks, registering only "Primary Unit Grace Wilson, Religious outreach and community service consultant" due to the perception filter masking her profanity.
"Mayor Richards," you begin, settling your seven-and-a-half-foot form into your specially reinforced chair, "we've brought you here to discuss the future of this city." You materialize the Servant Gun on the table.
"What's that device?" he asks, leaning forward with curiosity rather than fear—the perception filter already affecting his responses.
"The motherfucking key to actual change," Grace states calmly, the filter transforming her words to sound professional and measured.
You explain your vision for the city: living wages, affordable housing, accessible healthcare, reformed police. Richards listens with increasing interest, occasionally nodding.
"It sounds promising," he admits, "but the political realities—"
"Are about to fucking change dramatically," Grace interrupts, placing her hand on his. "Join us. Become part of something greater."
You raise the Servant Gun and dial to Experimental. "Leadership Collective: Punk Goth Political Extension with full integration to Primary Unit Grace."
The beam engulfs Richards. His salt-and-pepper hair transforms to black with electric blue streaks. His male form melts away, replaced by voluptuous feminine curves. His conservative suit transforms into a leather corset, fishnet stockings, and platform boots—though only those in your inner circle can see this reality.
"Oh holy fucking shit," the transformed Richards gasps, now a busty punk goth woman with multiple piercings and vibrant makeup. "I can feel... everything Grace feels. The connection is... intense."
"Welcome to the Leadership Collective," Grace says with a satisfied grin, embracing her new extension. "Now let's fix this fucking city."