During the cab ride Ellen realized she was frightened.
The sense of foreboding didn’t hit her until five minutes, or so, after she had given the driver the address. To say the evening had been "strange" was an understatement. Let’s see. I’ve told Candi my secret; Bethany, too, for that matter, seeing as how she grew four huge breasts . . . we fucked two guys and made their balls vanish .. . . Oh, and I now have six breasts and two vaginas. Not too bad for a night’s work.
She was giving some thought to the events which had transpired—
And that’s when the fear hit her.
She didn’t know why it was gripping her like a vice, but for the first time this evening she wanted to go home and hide. Or even start "working", although anyone who saw her tricking the way she looked now would likely have a heart attack—or give her a thousand dollars just to take her picture nude.
During the sex she and Bethany had with their two "dates", one had made a wish about filling her breasts with cum and watching them "grow and multiply." Stupid fuck. Who makes a wish like that? But his wish—like any other made about her in her presence—came true. Now Ellen was hiding (and not very well, she thought) six breasts around a HH cup or more in size. No problem. You see these every day . . . .
She even got the guy to wish the same thing on Bethany, and when it was over she, too, possessed four tits of amazing size. The girl took it all in stride, figuring that she got hit with some mojo that she shouldn’t piss on, and maybe she make this work for her somehow.
Ellen and her parted, and soon after she flagged down a cab and gave him an address which she and Candi had been on their way to visit before Ellen was sidetracked.
Now there was this fear . . . .
Ellen had been feeling pretty good about herself up to this point. Being cursed so that you were little more than a fuck toy with a limited intelligence and a hell of a body that could be changed with just a wish had left her very depressed for the last couple of months. But Candi—who was now her lover—was happy with what she was, and her happiness was starting to rub off on Ellen. She had even gotten to the point where she figured she could take her "disability" and turn it into something which could be used to her advantage.
Yet . . . there was the feeling that this curse wasn’t ever going to let her be happy . . . .
She could see the driver checking her out in his rear view mirror. Sitting like she was, there was no way these gigantic breasts could remain hidden, and Ellen was certain the driver was getting an eye-full.
"Miss, can I ask you a question?" The driver was an older gentleman, hence the politeness which charmed Ellen in a somewhat erotic fashion.
"Please, be my guest," she replied.
"Are you gonna to some kind of costume party?"
"Why do you ask?" As if I can’t figure it out..
He cleared his throat. "It’s just that I can’t help but notice, but—you’ve got a lot of breasts underneath your dress. You don’t mind my sayin’."
She leaned foreword, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of her lower breasts rubbing against her thighs. It had only been thirty minutes since she’d been laid, but Ellen was aroused and felt like she needed a good fucking. Not only were her larger than normal nipples constantly rubbing against the latex which fought to contain them, but her clit—correction, clits, were both throbbing like she was a virgin in heat. She knew if she didn’t get an orgasm soon, she was going to explode.
"Would you like to find out if what I have is real?" she purred.
The driver smiled, but she could see the look he gave her. It was one of hunger . . . "You can’t possibly have more than two breasts under that outfit," he told her.
"And if I did?"
The driver hadn’t been working these streets for the last fifteen year and not know when someone was coming on to him. Normally he’d pass on strange— anymore these bitches had crabs and AIDS and shit which would make your dick fall off before morning’s light—but the way that dress caressed her chest, and made all those tits stand out and beg to be hugged . . . "I’ll tell you what; if you do have more than one set of real breasts under that dress, I’ll knock off the meter and give you—say one fifty."
"And if I don’t?"
"You pay me triple the meter when we get to where we’re goin’."
Ellen resisted the urge to laugh. She threw herself back into the seat. "Pull into an alley. It’s a deal."
By the time the cab was parked in a darkened alley and the driver was letting himself into the back seat, Ellen had her dress off and was laying across the back, legs spread, the fingers of her right hand going to work on her lower clit. "So, you were saying about the meter?" she moaned.
The driver almost shit. "God-damn," he exclaimed. He felt the three breasts on her lower torso, felt their warmth and softness. "This is the real deal," he whispered.
Apparently he was so engrossed in her breasts that he didn’t realize Ellen was using her left hand to manipulate her upper clit. While she wasn’t as skilled, it was definitely worth the effort; the sensation of both clits being stimulated was something beyond description. "If you’re paying me one fifty for a look," she told him softly, "you may as well put your cock to work and get your money’s worth."
The driver dropped his pants and began fumbling around. Ellen was enjoying herself at the moment, and hoped that this guy wouldn’t say anything which would "wish" her into a predicament she would be unable to extract herself from. God, all I’d need is for this asshole to wish I was his slave and I’d be screwed.
She pulled him closer to her face. "Tit fuck me," she begged.
"I—"
"Please. I’d love to feel your cock between my tits."
The guy was at a loss for words. "Where?" he panted, obviously overwhelmed by the choices presented to him.
"I have seven sets of cleavage," she told him, smiling. "I’m sure any of them will do."
Taking the path of least resistance the driver put his cock between the upper and lower breasts on her right side. Ellen licked her fingers and began massaging her saliva over her breasts to offer some lubrication. While the driver fucked away, Ellen began feeling her left breast with her left hand, and brought her right had up to pull at the nipple on her upper middle breast. God . . . She was in heaven. The driver was rubbing his thumbs over two nipples while she manipulated two more—this was not only making her feel good, but she could feel her vaginas—both—begin to tighten. She was going to have two orgasms at the same time, she knew it . . . .
As the driver began to spill his semen across her breasts the orgasms came. Waves of pleasure swept over her as she experienced multiple orgasms in each vagina. She didn’t realize she was screaming loud enough that the driver was becoming afraid that someone might hear her and come to see what was going on. Ellen’s hips bucked hard and frequently, cum running from both holes and dribbling into the seat cushion.
Out of breath, Ellen didn’t know how long she lay there enjoying in pleasure which had just consumed her. She came out of her revere only when the driver shook her and asked, "You okay?"
She nodded. "Oh, yeah. And you?"
The driver had wiped himself clean and has his pants up. Ellen realized that his cum had dried upon her breasts, leaving them slightly sticky. "That was damn good. Well worth the money."
Ellen looked for her own dress, sitting up. "Well, I aim to please." She give the driver a kiss. "Now, we ready to go on? Or do you want to go again and pay me triple the meter?"
Ten minutes later Ellen was standing before her destination.
Before getting out of the cab she was feeling good, having cum so hard. In such a good mood that she just let the driver get away without charging her. She didn’t let him pay her the one fifty he’d promised; she figured cuming on her tits and watching her get off was worth the cost of the ride.
That mood ended when she saw where she was ultimately heading.
The brownstone looked like any other on the street.. Rich. Very rich. Ellen didn’t know how Candi knew someone from this neighborhood. Probably met the person one night when they were out cruising, ran into Candi—and that was how she got this person’s address? What the fuck? Ellen thought. Stranger things have happened.
But something about the place bothered Ellen. It was more of that "uneasy" feeling she’d been having for the last half hour. The edifice allowed light from the inside to filter onto the street, but somehow it still looked dark and foreboding. For a moment she wanted to flag down another cab and get the hell out of here. But she realized that Candi was likely here waiting for him—and it wouldn’t do to have her waiting. Anyway, she’d probably come looking for me if I don’t show up.
She did the only thing she felt she could do. She stepped up to the door and rang the bell.
Within seconds a young girl in a maid’s outfit greeted her. "May I help you, madam?" the girl asked. She seemed to have a slight French accent, but Ellen couldn’t tell if it was the real thing.
"This might seem strange," she started, "but my friend Candi is here—"
"Ah! You must be Miss Ellen." The girl opened the door wider. "Please. Come in."
In the foray Ellen was struck by a smell—the smell of money. Silk wallpaper and oil paintings draped the walls; the carpeting wasn’t the sort you paid for by the square yard, but the square inch. She copped a glance into the living room. The stuff in there looked like it came from an antique dealer.
"If you’ll come this way," the girl instructed. Ellen followed her upstairs, not saying a word. The chill which had been running down her spine was gone, but there was this unease in her stomach—
They turned left, and stopped moments later at the end of the hall. "The Mistress is waiting for you," the girl told her. Ellen could hear the capitalization of the word in the maid’s voice. I hope I’m not getting into some B and D shit, she thought. She nodded and entered.
The room was a library, not very big as rooms go, but large enough that the three people in the room could sit and there’d still be enough space for a few more people to move around without problems. The walls were covered with cases three levels high. The lighting was indirect, with lamps recessed into the walls, and a small chandelier hanging above. At the far end of the room sat a large desk made of a dark, red wood, polished to a high gloss. The lamp on the desk prevented Ellen from clearly seeing the person seated there, but she should see Candi well enough, sprawled in a high-back leather chair which looked like it cost more money that what Ellen had brought in for the last month.
Candi jumped out of her chair and ran over. "Honey!" she exclaimed, arms wide. "Where have you been? I was . . ." She stopped short, and as Ellen’s new additions registered with her, Candi’s mouth formed into a large "O". "What happened to you?"
"I sort of—grew and multiplied," Ellen replied. "You like?"
"My God." She threw her arms around Ellen and hugged her hard. "Just more of you to love." She turned her towards the desk. Ellen noticed the woman sitting behind it for the first time. "I want to introduce you to someone."
As Ellen sat in an identical chair as the one she’d seen Candi in, she appraised the person across from her. She was young, that much was evident, but not as young as Candi or her. Maybe in her late twenties, but no more than that. She was a beautiful blond, skin almost perfect, smile bright and teeth straight. Ellen figured she was a product of her upbringing: Rich people tend to fix the things they aren’t happy with, she thought.
There was a part of her mind, now locked away in the dimness which had become her new life, who sort of knew who this person was . . . but it escaped her.
"Ellen, I liked to introduce you to Kathy Gains. Kathy, this is Ellen."
The woman rose and came from around her desk. She was wearing a leather mini-dress which looked as if it had been tailored for her, and black nylons and matching designer pumps. She held out her hand. "I’m very pleased to meet you."
Ellen stood up and shook the woman’s hand. "Same here."
The moment their hands touched, Ellen could feel it; the woman was becoming aroused. Very much so, if Ellen wasn’t mistaken. The way Kathy was licking her lips . . . Ellen had been fucked by enough people in the last couple of months to know that look; the one that said, "I can’t wait to get inside you."
With the heels on Kathy was just slightly shorter than Ellen. After they stopped shaking hands, Kathy began examining Ellen’s breasts. "Are these real?" she asked in awe.
"Yes, they are."
Kathy inhaled sharply, and exhaled very slowly. "Goooooood . . ." She turned to Candi. "You were right so far."
"Of course I was," Candi said, nodding. Ellen noticed the end table on the other side of Candi’s chair seemed to have several lines of a white powder laid out. Candi snorted a line. "Would I lie?"
Returning her gaze to Ellen’s breasts, she replied, "Sometimes. But not now." She looked Ellen in the eyes. "Would you come with me? I’ll like to discuss something in private."
Noticing that Candi seemed engrossed with the drugs she was enjoying—probably cocaine from the gleam she’d seen in Candi’s eyes—and figured she wouldn’t notice if her and this other woman departed for a little while. She nodded. "Lead on."
Kathy led her guest upstairs. Ellen assumed they were headed for a bedroom; what else would be upstairs? It wasn’t until they headed up another flight of stairs that she began to get a feel for just how big this place was. It was more than just a nice town house: it was more like a mansion situated in the city.
Ellen was led through a door into another room. It was a bedroom, but not like she’d ever seen before. There was a large four-corner poster canopy bed on one side of the room, and pair of leather chairs and a table between them, a leather-bound love seat over by the fireplace which bisected the room. Ellen figured they could fit Candi’s and hers apartment three times into this place and still have room left over.
"Impressed?" Kathy could tell Ellen had never seen anything like this before.
"Yeah."
Kathy led them over to the chairs. "Would you mind taking that dress off?" she asked.
Ellen did as she was asked, figuring that there was going to be money in this gig, so why disappoint the customer?
With the dress off Ellen felt the warm air on her breasts, and it felt good. Her nipples were all erect, and her vaginas were once more tingling, filling her with a now-familiar feeling of excitement and wetness which was becoming more the norm rather than the exception. Ellen started to strip all the way, but Kathy stopped her. "Please, leave your boots on," was all she said. There was a glow in her eyes; the girl was turned on, and getting more so by the second.
"As you wish," Ellen told her, instantly damning herself for using the magic word.
But Kathy was too wrapped up in her own impressions to worry about what Ellen was saying. After staring at the multiple breasts before her for what seemed like a very long time, Kathy placed her lips on one of the nipples of Ellen’s lower breasts and began to slow suck. While it was evident this was bringing pleasure to Ellen, she couldn’t see that Kathy was similarly aroused herself. She began to finger herself through her underwear as she moved her mouth from one set of lower nipples to another, like a hungry child sampling a different flavor of ice cream as quickly as she can.
After both women came, Kathy came up panting, directing Ellen to a chair. "You don’t know who I am, do you?" She had to forcibly remove her hand from between her legs.
Ellen shook her head. "I don’t pay much attention to the news." Not to mention that I can’t remember things like that.
"My late husband was Arron Gains."
Again the name meant nothing; since Ellen had become "bimboized," trying to remember what she had for dinner the week before could be a formable challenge. "Let me guess: he was rich."
"And I got his money when he died." Kathy didn’t make a move to sit. Rather, she stood back from Ellen, continuing to take her nude form in. "I’m not Bill Gates rich, but I’ll never have to want for anything for the rest of my life."
"And what does this have to do with me?"
Kathy cleared her throat, then licked her still-moist fingers before continuing. "I’ve always been into—strange things," she said, her voice low and husky with lust. "I’ve tried to do whatever my body and mind have driven me towards, and at this point in my life there is very little I haven’t at least tried."
She felt her nipples, rubbing them slowly through the leather. "I met Candi a few months ago in a club, where I was looking for a ‘girl on girl’ experience. She made me feel good, and since then I’ve maintained contact with her, just in case. Tonight she comes to me and tells me that she knows someone who can make my most intense fantasies come true." She examined Ellen’s breasts with great intensity. "I’m beginning to believe she’s right."
Ellen was a little afraid. My most intense fantasies .. . . That could mean just about anything. There was a part of her that wanted to run—and there was another which wanted to find out just what it was this beautiful rich girl wanted. "What’s in it for me?" she asked, confident that Kathy was going to make her efforts worthwhile.
She stopped playing with herself; it was time to get down to business. "I’ll give you $5,000 for just being here tonight," she said. "Whether or not you can do what Candi claims. If you can fulfill my fantasies, then I’ll set you up."
"In what?"
Kathy seemed to think for a moment. Ellen knew it was a façade; a woman like this would have her mind made up hours before they’d come to this point. "I’ll put you and Candi in a penthouse, all expenses paid, and give you an allowance of $10,000 a month. For that you’ll stay on retainer in case I—need you. You won’t have to hook any more, unless that’s what you want to do." She moved closer to Ellen. "Consider me your number one customer."
"For how long?"
"Ten years?"
Ellen shook her head. "Would you give this up in a few years?"
Kathy saw her point. "I’ll set you up for life, but only for $6,000 a month expenses."
Ellen didn’t see a problem with this. After all, if the penthouse was paid for, what was there for her to spend her money on? Clothes? Hardly. Food would be about it. "Deal." It was her turn to examine Kathy. "What is it you want from me?"
Kathy began to rub her nipples again. Ellen figured she didn’t even realize what she was doing. "I want to be your sex slave."
"Come again?" Ellen wasn’t sure she’d heard her right.
Kathy began to slowly pace in a circle. "I’ve always wanted to be dominated by another woman; a strong woman who would control me completely, who could do anything she wanted to me. To be nothing but a plaything to her. To be her toy." She stopped and stared longingly at Ellen. "I wish you could do all that and more; change me, force me to do the most degrading things, anything—"
"Be silent!"
Kathy froze the moment she heard the steel in that voice. She saw a change come over Ellen; she couldn’t describe it exactly, but it was almost as if another person had come into possession of her body.
As if there was someone else in the room with her.
Ellen took two measured, exact steps towards Kathy, seemed to tower over the other girl. "Did I ask you to tell me this drivel?" Her manor was very stern, and her voice seemed infused with confidence and power.
"No—"
"No what?!"
Kathy realize that Ellen wasn’t playing around. Her knees momentarily became weak. "No, Mistress."
Ellen slapped Kathy hard across the face. "I didn’t tell you to call me ‘Mistress’. You will refer to me as ‘Miss Ellen’ at all times. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen."
Despite what she might have thought, Ellen was loving this, having this little bitch at her mercy. Having someone to control, to manipulate—
To change.
And Kathy was falling right into the role. The moment she knew Ellen wasn’t playing around, her attitude became very submissive. Arms at her side, legs together, back straight, eyes not meeting hers. Ellen was wondering if the wish was affecting her as well, making her act the way she had always wanted to act when put into this position
Ellen—this new dominant Ellen—didn’t care. It was time to start putting her little girl through the paces, to see if she were up to what was about to happen to her. "And do you think you can serve me?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen."
"In what way? Just by doing everything I ask of you?"
Kathy was unsure what she should say next. Her clit was throbbing, and she was starting to quiver. Being dominated by a powerful woman had always been a dream—one of her many. How many more will this woman make come true for me? "I can be your plaything, Miss Ellen—"
"You have already told me that."
"But I can satisfy you so well—" She started to move towards Ellen, reaching out to touch her.
Her hand was slapped away. "I didn’t tell you to touch me!" Ellen yelled. Kathy froze, almost afraid to move. "You will only touch me if I want your touch, do you understand?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen."
"Direct your gaze at the floor." Kathy complied immediately. "Why did you want me to keep my boots on when I undressed?"
For a moment Kathy didn’t want to give up her secret—one which had been with her since she had been in high school, one which had caused her to be ostracized by her best friend when she admitted the same thing at age sixteen. But she had no choice now . . . "I have a female shoe fetish," she said softly and quickly. "The sight of a woman’s foot in shoes . . . it makes me—"
"Horny?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen."
"Do you masturbate thinking about these things?
"Yes, Miss Ellen."
"Do you make your maid wear heels all the time because it makes you wet to see her walking around your house that way?"
Kathy gulped. "Yes, Miss Ellen."
"When you fucked Candi, did you make her leave her shoes on?"
Kathy swallowed. "Yes, Miss Ellen."
"And do you want to polish my boots with your pussy?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen." Kathy could feel her orgasm coming on; Ellen—Miss Ellen, she corrected herself—was pushing all the right buttons. She wondered if she would be punished if she moaned when she came?
But instead of ordering her to begin rubbing herself against her boots, Ellen asked instead, "Do you like my breasts?"
Kathy had to hold her legs tightly together, holding the orgasm in. "Yes, very much, Miss Ellen."
"Why?"
"Because . . ." She had to search for the right answer. "I have never been with a woman who had six of them."
"Would you like them if they were smaller?"
"I would like them small or large, Miss Ellen."
Ellen placed her hands under the lower set. "Would you like a set of breasts like this?"
Kathy’s breasts were already very large—she was a natural D cup—but to have six like that . . . "Your breasts are beautiful, Miss Ellen—"
"That’s not what I fucking asked!"
"I’m sorry!"
"Sorry, what?!"
"I’m very sorry, Miss Ellen."
Ellen smiled. "Good. Now answer the question."
Kathy took a deep breath. "I would love to have breasts like yours, Miss Ellen."
"Why?"
"So . . . so I could feel as if I were you."
The laugh which erupted from Ellen took Kathy by surprise. She knew she was in for a bit of derision, but she was beginning to feel as if she were less than human. It was bringing her towards a very hard orgasm.
"You be like me?" Ellen put her face inches from Kathy’s. "You, some rich-bitch with a shoe-fetish, be like me? Not a fucking chance." She sat down, crossing her legs. "Get on your hands and knees, Kathy."
She did as told. Ellen began tapping the girl on the head with her foot. "You would love to lick this leather, wouldn’t you?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen." She was beginning to have trouble maintaining her composure. Kathy’s pubic hair was damp, and she could feel it sticking to her panties.
"What do you want more? My boots, or my breasts?"
A moment’s hesitation, then: "I don’t know, Miss Ellen."
"Well, make a choice. Now."
Kathy was panting loudly now. "Your breasts."
"All of them?"
"Yes, Miss Ellen."
Leaning over, Ellen whispered something into Kathy’s ear. "Now say that out loud," she ordered, sitting back.
"I wish you could give me breasts like yours," Kathy repeated.
Ellen wasn’t that sure if the wish would take. She didn’t have to wait long to find out, though.
Kathy began to arch her back, moaning loudly, more in pleasure than in pain. "Oh, God, oh, shit . . . what, what . . ?" The girl’s head was pulled back, and Ellen could see the third breast beginning to push it’s way between the two she was born with, shoving them to the side. The open front of the dress was beginning to get very crowded; as form fitting as the dress was, there was little room for modification, and the addition of a middle breasts—not to mention the changes still to come—was going to test the clothing’s craftsmanship.
The third breast was sticking up where Kathy’s cleavage had been, trying to force its way into the open. Stitches were beginning to give against the strain; Ellen heard a rip from the back as the zipper started giving way.
Kathy leaned back, her hands grasping her torso, the orgasms twisting her face into paroxysm of delight. A second row of three breasts were forming under the top three, the configuration the same as Ellen’s. Whereas Ellen’s clothing would adjust to her body, Kathy’s clothing would do no such thing, and the breasts now growing along her mid-torso were blowing out the side stitching of the outfit. It wouldn’t be long before . . . .
The zipper in the back ripped out, the back flaps rolling forward with nothing to hold them in place. There were a second set of loud rips at both the top and bottom rows of breast forced their way out of the confines of leather and into the open. The side stitching finally gave way over Kathy’s hips, and the material gave as the bottom row grew past D cups as they continued towards the size of Ellen’s breasts.
The fact that Kathy’s dress would soon be in tatters was lost upon her. She was cumming harder than ever. Her vagina was in the throws of orgasmic contraction, and they were coming almost as fast as her breasts were growing. Now that she could actually feel her nipples, she began grabbing at them, pulling them, squeezing them as hard as she could. Kathy looked down and saw the third breasts between her normal two, and instantly both hand were upon it, one caressing its fullness while the other found the nipple and twisted it until she forced a moan from her lips.
Ellen knew it was only a matter of time before the girl discovered there was another set below the ones she was fondling, and figured once that happened she’d be so busy caressing her tits she might not be able to follow the commands she would give her . . . .
"Stop what you are doing and get on your feet!" she barked. Kathy moved slow to stand. She smelled of female musk, and her eyes were glazed like those of a person deep into an addiction who’d just received a fix. Regardless what might happen to her next, Ellen knew Kathy’s body was keeping her in constant arousal, and that eventually she couldn’t live without the stimulation.
The dress was literally falling off her body, but Kathy didn’t care. She started to bring her hands to her breast again, but remembered the order she’d been given. "May I touch myself?" she asked.
"No."
"May I—"
Ellen kicked Kathy in the knee, causing her to stumble. "It’s, ‘May I touch myself, Miss Ellen?!’ Have you forgotten?"
Kathy lay there, panting. "No, Miss Ellen."
"Do I need to whip your ass to burn it into your brain?!"
"No, Miss Ellen."
"Get up."
Kathy was having trouble moving. Her knee hurt, true, but these breasts . . . On Ellen they looked big, but Kathy was smaller, and she knew they must look huge on her. The center of gravity which she had known all her life had shifted, and maneuvering six monstrous breasts around was no small feat if you were just starting out.
She eventually made it back to her feet, standing there waiting for her mistress to pass along her next order. She wanted to please; she wanted to be the best she could be. She didn’t know what was coming next, but the look on Miss Ellen’s face indicated she had something devious in mind . . . .
"I’ll let you touch yourself," she said softly,
"but only once you tell me the truth. When you tell me what it is you really
want. Because this—" She pointed at Kathy’s new breasts, "is bullshit.
This isn’t what you had in mind when you asked me here. And being ‘Little
Miss Submissive’ isn’t what you had in mind, either." Ellen leaned forward,
compressing her breasts between her torso and thighs. "Tell me what it
is you want . . . wish it, and we’ll see if we can make it come true .
.. . ."
Candi was bored. She’d snorted a lot of cocaine, and the gum freeze was driving her crazy. She drank some wine trying to take the edge off, but what she really wanted was sex. With Ellen. Now.
But it’d been at least a hour, maybe more, since she’d seen Ellen and Kathy. She’d known Kathy for about six months, and while the girl loved to have fun—and had the coin to keep the party going—Candi was beginning to wonder if telling her about Ellen was such a good idea. By now Kathy could have turned her lovely Ellen into some sort of freak covered with dicks, or tentacles, or . . . .
To be honest, she didn’t know what really turned Kathy on.
Even in this cocaine haze, Candi was starting to realize that her greed to milk Kathy for a few bucks might not be a good thing.
She got up and headed into the foray. She looked for the maid who’d been in and out for the last hour, but realized she couldn’t hear her walking around. Come to think about it, I haven’t seen her in a while, either. Candi looked up the stairs. She knew that Kathy’s bedroom was up on the third floor, and if they were anywhere, they’d all be up there. She didn’t try to sneak upstairs; Candi figured that if there was a lot of huffing and puffing going on, there was no way they were gonna hear her coming.
She arrived outside Kathy’s bedroom, and sure enough, there was moaning, loud moaning, coming from the other side. It didn’t sound like Ellen, though; she’d spent enough time over the last month bringing her to orgasm, and thought she’d recognize her sound even though a thick door. Candi considered knocking, then figured, fuck it, they’d probably not give a shit if she barged in. Hell, I can make it a three-some—
She went in and froze.
Kathy was straddling her maid, humping away like a madwoman. She moaned in ecstasy as her hands moved along each of her six breasts, which bounced rhythmically with the motion of her hips. But that wasn’t what bothered Candi.
It was the maid.
She was face down on the floor, her knees flat against the carpet—but her torso and abdomen had been rotated around so that her breasts and groin were now her back. Not only that, but Candi could see that the transformed Kathy was sliding up and down a rather large cock rooted in the maid’s crotch. Candi thought for a moment it might be a strap on, but the way the maid was moaning indicated it was the real thing.
Before she could say a word, a voice floated over from the bed. "Welcome to the Funhouse." It sounded like Ellen’s voice. But Ellen had never sounded so . . . .
Someone moved on the darkened bed. "Ellen?" Candi called, ignoring the fornicating couple in the corner.
The person who rose off the bed was Ellen—or what she had become. Candi felt faint. It took all her willpower to remain upright.
Her skin was no longer the light tan it had been, but was more of a dark, smoky crimson, and seemed to have the texture of calfskin leather, much like the thigh-high boots she was now wearing. Her hair had become a brighter red than before, if possible, and with much more of a wave to it. It looked thicker, almost alive. Her breasts weren’t larger, but the skin looked as if it had been pulled tight; all six stood straight out from her body with nary a hint of sag, defying gravity.
Ellen reached up and ran a hand through her hair. Her nails were almost two inches long, maybe more. The didn’t remind Candi of nails as much as they were now claws. And they weren’t painted red—they were the same crimson as her skin, only brighter.
But it was the added features which Candi focused upon the most. There were a set of horns rising up out of her forehead, the points standing almost six inches above her thick hair. Ellen’s eyes no long possessed an iris or pupil, but were now a solid, glowing soft white which sent a shiver through Candi’s soul.
She another hand came up to her hair, and Candi realized Ellen had more than one set. There were now three pair of arms, all seeming to work at different things. While she teased her hair, she also rubbed two breasts and masturbated her upper vagina. Talk about being ambidextrous, Candi thought.
Ellen stood, and great wings, leathery, stood at least three feet over her head. She reached out to her lover, putting her other hands to rest. "Do you like my new body?"
There was that tone again. To Candi Ellen sounded evil. "You look—different," she stammered.
"Well, you can thank Kathy for that," she chuckled.. As if on cue Kathy and her maid screamed out as their orgasms peaked. "Can I help it if the little bitch’s darkest fantasy was being dominated by a female demon?"
"Wa—what?"
"What do you think I am?" She turn around like a model on a runway. For the first time Candi noticed the long tail with a diamond-shaped barb at the end, growing out of her spine from a point just above her ass. "Don’t you think I’m beautiful?"
"I guess."
Ellen sighed loudly. "I would have thought you of all people wouldn’t mind the changes which come over me. After all, you loved these breasts." She looked over to Kathy. "Get over here, slave."
Kathy untangled herself from the maid—yes, she did
have a penis, and a large one at that—and made her way over to where her
demon waited for her. Candi could see she was having trouble moving. Besides
the breasts there was a reason: Kathy was wearing a pair of those platform
ballet shoes, the ones which made you stand on your toes and had incredibly
high heels. Candi figured the heels on these must be at least fourteen
inches, and that the pressure on her toes must be—
NO! Up close Candi realized that Kathy
wasn’t wearing shoes. She was wearing nylons and a garter, and that was
it. Somehow her feet had been molded into the shape they now posses. She’s
walking on her fucking toes! On her feet!
She stood before the two women. "Yes, Miss Ellen?"
"Have you cum enough, dear?"
"Yes, very much, Miss Ellen."
"Good." Ellen turned to Candi. "Thank you for introducing us."
"You’re welcome." Candi couldn’t help but sound sarcastic.
"Now, there’s no need to sound like that, dear." Ellen put a hand on her shoulder. "Not when I can do things like this . .. . ."
Candi felt a moment’s disorientation, a sudden lightness in her head which passed quickly. She shook her head. "Like what?"
Ellen pointed to the other side of the room. "Like this. Look."
Candi did. There was a room-sized mirror along the wall. Candi start shaking, for it wasn’t her reflection she was seeing—it was Kathy’s.
She was no long Candi, but had become Kathy Gaines..
Ellen chuckled. "Of course someone has to take her place. My little slave is too busy being happy with her changes, and I certainly can’t go out in public. Not yet." There was that chuckle again.
Candi wanted to scream, but she gained her composure and said, "I wish you were back to the way you were before."
Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
Sitting upon the bed, Ellen told her, "Kathy’s wish was rather self-perpetuating. She wants it so badly that it just keeps overriding any of hers, or other’s for that matter, wishes." She leaned back, all six arms supporting her. "So, I guess there isn’t anything you can do. I, on the other hand, can now manipulate people without having to wish for it." She gave Candi a look that would have withered a lesser person. "So, would you like to be one of the richest women in the world and keep up our front—or would you like me to turn you into a living vibrator and put you to good use?"
Candi didn’t know what to say. She knew she shouldn’t feel as she did at the moment; she wished that Ellen had more breasts and another vagina, and it was her who brought her lover to met Kathy—resulting in the changes which had affected all. Can I still love her? she wondered. Ellen was a demon, and she had a power, a frightening power—but Candi wondered if she would try to change Ellen even further to satisfy her own needs and wants.
What it came down to was this: What are you willing to deal with?
Indeed.
Candi—or should she call herself Kandi with an "I"?—moved slowly over to the bed, into Ellen’s waiting arms. Without thinking she kissed her and fondled her breasts, feeling the heat from her body, her leather-like skin smooth under her touch.
"Better to reign in Hell," she mumbled as they both
fell back into rapture.
THE END