The changes that had affected so many heroines in the city were not confined to the cities, but small towns also. Earlier that evening the fearsome slayer Buffy and the Scooby Gang had attempted to follow up a tip to a new club in Sunnydale. Totally falsely, they had been led to believe that they would find a lead there to a fresh villain looking to exploit the Hellmouth. But Buffy, Willow, and Xander dutifully queued up and waited for entry.
The Guards had dismissed Xander immediately, they were well-paid to keep the balance of patrons between hot chicks and blokes with fat wallets. None of the gang were too surprised, the place already had a reputation and it was living down to it. With Buffy's formidable skills and and Willow's magical cantrips, they had no doubt that they could handle themselves perfectly well. They had come dressed to impress, both in heels and stockings to kill, butt-skimming skirts and crop tops designed to maximise their ample assets. Buffy particularly was a Grade-A cocktease and had was well-used to making the most of what she had to achieve her goals.
Shortly afterwards the two of them had pain the exorbitant entry fee and were scoping out the club, suddenly feeling rather overdressed. They had a quick a drink, which nearly exhausted their funds, and decided to split up, Willow placing herself at the bar to watch everything that was going on; and Buffy heading for the dance floor, curious to see if anyone recognised her and may decide to make herself scarce.
But it was after only a few of Buffy's girations that the Warden's spell struck them both with dramatic affects. Willow, already perched precariously on a tall stool, lost her balance as an instant result of her breasts doubling in size and losing her natural sense of balance. As she thudded to the ground, banging her head onto the bar as she did so, a couple of nearby barflies rushed to assist her. They had already noticed her, but somehow in crashing to the ground, her attire and very physique had changed drastically. She appeared to have lost her underwear, and as she lay flat on her face on the sticky carpet, her shortened skirt ruched around her waist, and her pert bottom and neatly trimmed snatch on full display to everyone in the club. As she was 'helpfully' hauled back up to her feet, both men noticed that the impact had shook her phenomenal breasts straight out of her flimsy halter, which now looked incapable of the task of restraining them. As they perched her back on her precarious stool, each had one hand each inside her excuse for a skirt, and the other cradling a perfect breast.
Willow strained to come to; what had happened to her? Where was she? Why was her head spinning? Who were these men? Where were their hands - and why? Sadly for Willow, the drink she had already had that had barely affected her system was now raging though it unchecked. Groggy from banging her head, intoxicated, the swim back to consciousness took far longer than it should have done. Too long. Her helpful assistants had quickly got her a quadruple vodka from the bar, and were pouring it down her throat, suggesting that 'it would help freshen her up'. Of course, it had the opposite effect, and her weakened body failed to deal with the rush of booze in her stupefied state; she could no more collect her thoughts or address her situation than fly to the moon. No longer could she grasp what was happening, where she was, even who she was, or who she was with. She was quickly frogmarched to a secluded corner where her new companions, together with a bottle of vodka, announced they were going to enjoy making her acquaintance. Willow groggily acquiesced, unable to help herself until she sobered up, something that was not going to be allowed to happen for a long time.
Buffy had lost her backup.
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