Author's Note:
Welcome to the start of a brand-new story! This is my third official project after SWAPARTY and The Throne of Swapped Desire. Huge thank you to everyone for the incredible ongoing support!

START

Image: https://www.deviantart.com/phnxpiyush/art/Teaser-The-App-Fest-Chapter-1-Prof-Elena-1350224939

"What the actual fuck—" My voice trailed off, vibrating heavily right through the center of my massive fucking chest. It wasn't my voice. It was smooth, mature, and had this bossy, sexy vibe I absolutely did not have.



I looked down in pure horror. The dark pink silk blouse was crazy tight. I had no room to breathe, and the fabric dug sharply into my ribs with every panicked breath I took. Long, thick strands of heavy, sweet-smelling dark hair fell over my bare collarbones, constantly getting in my view and completely mind-fucking my senses.



I spun my head wildly and spotted a tall mirror hanging on the back of the heavy wooden door. I had to see it. I had to know this wasn't just some crazy, real-feeling dream.



I pushed off the heavy desk and tried to rush forward.



"Ah, fuck—!" I gasped, stumbling instantly.



Even taking the smallest, most careful steps, the feeling was totally weird and just too much. The super tight cream skirt acted like a straightjacket for my lower half, tightly squeezing my thick legs together. With every tiny, wobbly step I took on those high heels, the soft, heavy flesh of my new inner thighs rubbed and pressed hard against each other, my wide hips swaying like crazy.



I finally caught my balance against the doorframe, my massive boobs heaving, and forced myself to look into the glass. My jaw completely dropped.



Staring back at me, with wide, terrified hazel eyes, was the strict, super curvy body of Professor Elena. The massive chest I used to secretly stare at during lectures—holy shit, they looked even bigger than I thought, straining against the silk like super heavy E-cups—were literally attached to my fucking body. I reached up with shaking, caramel-toned fingers and squeezed my own thick ass and hip. I felt the pinch. I felt the painful, tight squeeze of the skirt.



"It's real," I whispered, panic shooting through my body like ice water.



The app. It wasn't a joke. It wasn't a virus. Min-jun... that wasn't Min-jun in the cafeteria at all! It really was that girl... fuck, what was her name again? The one from …