Big Cat Leggings, Ch. 3

Big Cat Leggings

by Fidget

Chapter 3: Liger

Two days later, Amy’s first shipment of Big Cat Leggings was sitting in a box on the floor of her living room. Since it was her first order, she had only been able to get various housecat patterns to sell. She opened a pair of Tabby leggings and rubbed the smooth material in her hands, mildly disappointed to not feel any of the tingling sensation she craved, but that was to be expected. She would have to earn her right to stronger doses of the leggings’ addictive magic, and to do that she needed to establish a downline as quickly as possible so that she could finally start earning new models for herself.

Shoving a handful of packaged leggings into her shoulder bag, Amy stalked outside to begin canvassing the neighborhood, proudly clad in her Cheetah-print leggings and a low-cut yoga top, tightly stretched over the massive, E-cup breasts her body had grown after its exposure to her new leggings. Unfortunately, however, as she had noticed the week before, the majority of the women in her subdivision were already wearing what were obviously Big Cat Leggings. Many of them had shoulder bags matching her own, doubtless stuffed with their own product, always ready to make a quick sale when the opportunity presented itself. The other women eyed her with lean distrust, recognizing her as competition for their prey – both the susceptible, as-yet unaffected women whose purchases fueled their own power, as well as the virile young studs their own leggings were driving them to seduce and mate with.

So, Amy went home to rethink her plans, and to focus on the fading tingles still running through her energized body as her own most recent transformation finally began to tail off. Unlike her first set of changes, Amy had fully embraced this transformation, not that she had any choice in the matter, or that it made any difference. It felt entirely too good to fondle, tease, and stimulate her growing body as she urged herself to get bigger, rounder, sexier, and more powerful. Since she couldn’t bring herself to take off the leggings, and was entirely too addicted for more, she figured she might as well just sit back, enjoy the pleasure coursing through her swelling body, and look forward to seducing an endless string of sexy young men.

On Monday her changes had finally finished and she was back on the hunt, fully aware that her actions were due to her irresistible drive to fulfill her artificial cravings, but eager to put her new plans in motion nonetheless. Amy had recalled that most of her female coworkers and subordinates lived in the city, and that none of them were wearing leggings yet, which meant that even though the suburban market seemed saturated, the urban market was likely yet to be tapped. If she could leverage her coworkers to begin recruiting young female professionals across the city, they could put their own connections to work for her, and her goals would effectively accomplish themselves.

First, however, she had to get her coworkers to touch the fabric somehow, knowing that it would immediately hook them just like it had her. As it turned out, it was child’s play to invite them into her office one by one, bore them with an over-the-top marketing spiel, and then surprise them by handing them a pair of leggings at the end. Each time she was rewarded with the looks of intense pleasure mixed with hunger that she knew had been reflected on her own face when she had first touched the leggings, and time and time again she heard variations of “Omigod Amy, these feel so good! You have to let me buy some!”

“I know just what you mean, hun!” Amy would respond enthusiastically, and entirely truthfully, as she ran her own hands over the Cheetah leggings that had enslaved her as well. As the Tigress had said, “No one says ‘no’ to the leggings”.

“Of course you can buy some!”

Amy put her economics degree to work, charging her former friends $200 for the leggings that had only cost her $15 each to stock. Once a woman had touched them, the leggings became a need, not a want, and, just like the US healthcare system, this inelasticity of demand meant that Amy was free to make as much money off them as she wanted to.

By the end of the day she had made almost $3,000, which would more than fund her next order. More importantly, however, she now had 14 smart, successful young women who were unknowingly well on their way toward helping Amy fill her own powerful but needy body with even more cock, as the leggings that her coworkers couldn’t resist wearing began irresistibly transforming them into sexy, horny little MILFs themselves.

The next day one of Amy’s coworkers approached her, wearing her new leggings as expected, but clearly still a bit self-conscious about it. Even so, she was obviously enjoying the experience. “Amy! I haven’t been able to stop touching these since I put them on! They feel so good! Almost… tingly…” she trailed off as her eyes clouded over with pleasure, and the hands vigorously rubbing up and down the smooth fabric covering her legs began to tease their way closer and closer to her crotch. Amy noticed that her small breasts were standing out larger than usual against her slightly tighter blouse, as the leggings wrapped snugly against her coworker’s naked, tingly pussy continued to infuse her body with irresistible, mature sexual energy.

Good, she’s progressing nicely, Amy thought detachedly, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before her new downline’s cyclic need for more power to get more cock drove them to begin selling as well.

Even so, Amy felt a bit guilty as she watched their changes progress. Helpless to resist the confusing transformation happening to their bodies, the other women also began to view the young men in the office with that familiar, predatory look, as the superchanged sex drives that came with their voluptuous mom bods inevitably drove them to seek the sexual attention of younger men. They couldn’t compete with Amy, though, especially after her own recent transformation, so she got her pick of the boys in the office whenever and however she wanted.

Amy knew that they were preying on their own studs outside of work, especially with the way they began to arrive at the office late and disheveled, clearly having just taken a thick load from a horny young buck, before heading to the washroom to fix their hair and reapply their thickening makeup, but as long as they weren’t directly taking men from Amy herself, she didn’t really care what they did. Plus, Amy knew that as they began to compete with each other, it would drive them back to Amy for better leggings of their own to overpower their competition.

Before long, the women realized what was being done to them, but just as it had been for Amy, by then it was too late – their need for young cock was far too strong, and in less than a week every one of the curvy bombshells Amy had created, now complete with full, swollen breasts and wide, maternal hips of their own, had signed up to sell Big Cat Leggings for Amy, hoping to get a toned, tingly, lycra-encased leg up on the competition.

While Amy was setting up her fledgling network, her planning and execution processes experienced frequent temporary setbacks, because Amy herself was still thoroughly under the control of her own leggings, and was even more irresistibly driven to seduce young men than her recently ensnared coworkers.