A rich diva bitch is cursed and turned into a bimbo slut

Mom always said I had to learn things the hard way and she was usually right. In retrospect I had it all: I was the captain of the cheerleaders, I was dating the high school quarterback and I was at the top of my class academically.

To make my blessed life even more envious to most, I come from a very wealthy family and I am very, very pretty. My long black as night hair, aqua blue eyes have gotten me the attention of many boys and men; my long legs have also been a great attention getter.

My only real flaw was my breasts were quite small, without the generous padding of my expensive bras I would be an A-cup. Mommy had agreed my graduation present would be breast implants, but she had not told Daddy yet. But Mommy was confident she could persuade him as he had bought her breast enlargements for their tenth year anniversary.

Anyway, the point is I lived a pretty charmed life and being popular I felt the school revolved around me. The cool kids hung out with me and were my minions; the rest of the girl population wished they could be me. Shallow I suppose, but it was the truth.

That said, being popular can bring out one’s dark side. In retrospect, I was a diva bitch. I mocked the stupid, ridiculed the fat, humiliated the ugly and I revelled in glorifying my position of popularity above all those unworthy below me.

There is a social hierarchy in high school and life for that matter and I was at the top. It wasn’t fair, but it was what it was. Unfortunately for me, I got pulled into the privileged lifestyle and began to believe I was better than everyone else. Sadly, I was to learn just how wrong I was about everything and just how quickly power can be taken away.

It was the day before Halloween, the day before my eighteenth birthday, when my life changed without me knowing it.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, as Amber and I planned my big eighteenth birthday party Halloween Bash at the cafeteria while our childish football boyfriends had a lunch football meeting.

They say you never know what one thing will push someone over the edge and what I said to her this time was nothing out of the ordinary or meaner than any other day, yet it was the straw that seemingly broke the camel’s back and eventually changed my life forever.

Heather, also known by my clique as the ‘sister of death’ because of her all black fashion sense, walked by us and I quipped, “Actually Heather Halloween is tomorrow.”

Heather startled us all by stopping and glaring at me, usually she scurried away like the insignificant mouse she was. A strange smirk crossed her face and she asked, “Don’t you turn eighteen tomorrow?”

“Why yes I do,” I replied, twirling my hair I asked, “Why? Are you going to buy me a present?”

“You could say that,” she smiled, her tone ominous and confident, strange for a nobody like her.

“Don’t bother. There is nothing you could possibly give me I don’t already have,” I smugly shot back.

“Wouldn’t you like some hills on that flat chest of yours?” Heather retorted, a confidence and smugness in her I didn’t know existed.

“Excuse me,” I gasped, shocked by this nobody’s nerve to stand up to me.

“Tits, don’t you wish you had tits? Like most woman do. Even your vapid followers have them. Actually, Amber’s are more like cow udders, but still better than nothing don’t you think, Kim?”

“You fucking bitch,” Amber snapped, standing up in a flash.

“Another great vocabulary lesson from the gospel according to Amber,” Heather retorted, not seemingly remotely threatened by Amber. I stopped Amber from ripping the peasant apart.

By :silkstockingslover

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