It was hardcore adrenaline-driven panic that threatened
to blow Frank’s current façade. Not only was he late picking up
his girlfriend, Tanya, for dinner, but once again he’d fucked up and waited
until the last moment to get her a gift—something she’d likely would shit
upon when she saw it. He had meant to head out yesterday and get her something,
but it’d been Sunday, and Sunday was football and drinkin’ with his friends
and all that bullshit, and by the time the game ended he was too buzzed
to head to the mall.
Which meant . . . .
Motherfuckin’ Panicsville the next day.
Frank blew off part of his lunch hour to hit the
local shops, hoping to find something "sweet" with which to tide his Tanya
over. The way he looked at it Frank knew he couldn’t do worst than last
year. Mainly because he’d not only forgotten to get her anything, but had
forgotten her birthday altogether, blowing it off to go see "The Phantom
Menace" for a third time with one of the guys from work. To say she was
pissed was an understatement of majestic proportions: castration with a
potato peeler was the mildest threat tossed his way in the blowup that
followed, and nearly three months passed before she let him get intimate
with her again.
He’d considered dumping her then—screw the bitch
was his attitude, it wasn’t like it was her last birthday—but Tanya
was such a hot piece of ass it was worth it to Frank to keep winning and
dinning her until he got back into her good graces. But he’d been warned:
fuck up this birthday, lover boy, and Tanya will chew your nuts off, bronze
them, wear ‘em for earrings.
He didn’t know if she’d have really followed through,
but it wasn’t until he’d signed the receipt for her gift that he stopped
fear-clenching his ball. Frank had never been good at getting gifts, but
he thought Tanya might like what he’d found. It was a gold ring, 24 carats,
into which small diamonds had been set. Normally jewelry like this would
blow your budget for months, but Frank found it in a second-hand store
that had taken up residence next to the comic book store he usually frequented.
"Ye ol’ Curio Shoppe"—of course. The sort of BS which sucked people with
too much disposable income in off the street like a vacuum. But it must
work ‘cause he’d wandered in and found what he was looking for almost instantly.
He about shit when the woman working the store told him it was only a hundred
bucks—he had his Gold Card out so fast he damn near ripped his wallet apart.
There was no way he was letting this sucker escape—a gift like this fell
into the "Blow Jobs for a Month" category, and there was nothing Frank
liked more than his balls resting on Tanya’s chin.
True to form, Tanya was a little pissed when he
finally arrived—but damn, if she didn’t look sexy as shit. Tanya was 5’
1" and about 95 pounds. Her mother was half black, and Tanya had a light
milky-cream complexion that carried nary a blemish or visible imperfection.
She had a Nia Long thing going, and often sported a short hairdo vary similar
to what the actress wore in a few of her movies.
She stood in the doorway, hand on hips, her knee-high
booted feet planted as far apart as her tight leather mini dress would
allow. Frank liked this outfit the best because it was very low cut in
the front, showing off Tanya’s best feature, her breasts. Unlike a lot
of small women, Tanya had large tits; she was a DD cup, and proud of it.
The first time he’d met her, almost two years before, she’d been wearing
these tight hip hugger pants and an insanely small belly shirt that were
driving every guy in the room mad. Frank popped a rod and did something
he’d never done before: walked right up to Tanya and whispered in her ear
that he’d love to suck her big tits until her nipples were raw, then tit
fuck her until her face was gooey with cum. Much to his surprise, instead
of slapping him silly, she pulled him aside and ask, "Your place or mine?"
Ah, but that was when they were in lust, and now
Tanya was acting like he should be in love with her . . . .
"You’re late, lover," she told him. She didn’t sound
that pissed, but there was an edge in her voice.
"I know." He kissed her, then quickly hustled her
to his car. "I had to wrap your present."
She gave him a quizzical glance, like he’d farted
loud enough to rattle windows. "You really got me a gift?"
"Damn right."
She smiled, but Frank knew that look: she was a
snake about to swallow her prey. "You know what happens if you’re bullshittin’
me?"
He opened the door and let her slide in. "Honey, if
I’m lyin’ I’ll hand you the knife myself." He leaned in and kissed her.
"Trust me. You’ll love it."
Of course he teased her with "the gift" all through
dinner. She’d ask about it, and he’d shine her on, telling her to "wait,"
that he wanted to "save it for a special moment." Frank was no fool; he
wanted to give the ring to her in private, then leverage her exuberance
into something he wanted—namely, to hike up her dress, bend her
over the sofa, and lay some pipe down Anal Avenue.
While they had a fairly-active sex life, fucking
Tanya in the ass was something Frank fantasized about a lot. Which was
not what he’d consider an unusual request. Frank was a very kinky guy,
and most of the stuff he did with Tanya—tit fucking, blow jobs, a little
B and D, screwing in public places, and even once giving her a golden shower—were
nothing compared to what he would love to do to her sexy bod. Of
course, to do some of that stuff would require either magic or a lot of
plastic surgery on Tanya’s part . . . .
Finally, back at her place, Frank sat her down in
the living room, and returned from the kitchen with a large knife and the
oversized box that held her ring. "If you don’t like what I got you," he
said, sitting down, "I’ll pay for the bronzing myself."
She eyed him all the while she opened the present.
While he knew she’d not follow through on her threat, Frank couldn’t
help but shake just a little. He knew Tanya wasn’t the sort of girl to
make empty threats . . . .
When she got to the ring box her eyes went as wide
as cup saucers. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, opening it up to revile the
shinning gold ring. "Jesus, Frank . . . it’s . . . I don’t know what to
say!" She lifted it out and examined it.
Frank knew the perfect words for her to say: Honey,
I love you so much I want your hot load flowing up my ass— But he didn’t
want to push it. He knew they’d probably have a couple of drinks, then
start kissing, then would come the rubbing and the nibbling . . . there
was still plenty of time. No point in rushing things—
"There’s an inscription on the inside," she said.
He just smiled, thinking, Oh, fuck. There is?
Great. Frank cursed himself. Buy something in a second-hand story . . .
he should have checked to see if there was something like, "David and Millie
Forever," but too damn late now. He eyed the knife and wondered if he could
grab it before Tanya.
"Yeah . . ." Tanya squinted. "’Shall thy seed be
spent, other desires shall be lent. Shall thy seed be sown, shall desires
take thy own.’" She gazed at him with those large brown eyes of hers. "What’s
that mean?"
C’on, think of something . . . "It means,
uh . . . that I—" He got up, moving closer to her. "I only want to be with
you—" he touched her knee. "Sleep with you." Nibbled her neck—she ooohhed
appreciatively. "And fuck you—all the time."
"Like now?"
Bingo! "Especially now."
Tanya slipped the ring on her finger. She held her
hand out, fingers wide, gazing upon its beauty. After a few moments she
straddled Frank, planting a long, hungry kiss on his lips, her tongue franticly
intertwining with his. "Thank you. I love it," she told him. Frank could
see she had that, How should I reward him? look in her eyes. He
didn’t say a word, just waited for her to make the first move.
Tanya slowly ground her hips against Frank. "I was
thinking—"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe to make up for last year—"
The grinding was getting harder. "Yeah?"
"I’ll let you—have your way with me." She ran her
crotch all the way up Frank’s legs from his knees to his waist. "Anything
you want—"
"Can I cum in your ass?"
Hesitation: then— "If you eat my pussy and make
me cum six—um, eight—fuck it, an even dozen times, I’ll let you fuck my
ass all weekend."
If there was one thing Frank knew about Tanya, it
was that she was slow to orgasm when it came to oral sex. But when she
did cum—blast off. She was like a rocket leaving the launch pad. "That
could take all night," he told her.
She flared her hips in his direction and moved in
for the kill. "Then we better get started."
Frank felt something poke him in the stomach; the
look on Tanya’s face told him that she had felt something as well, although
.. . . Tanya’s expression was not one of confusion, but rather—satisfaction.
In unison they both looked down—
The front of Tanya’s dress had become a small teepee.
"The fuck is—" Tanya reached down, pulled the dress up, and gasped. Frank
thought he might have gasped as well, but he was too shocked to know.
Sticking out of her Victoria Secret’s black satin
bikini panties was a exceptionally large, and fully erect, penis. Frank,
from his angle, could also see a pair of fabric-outlined testicles squeezed
up against her crotch. He wanted to reach inside and check to see if Tanya
still had a pussy, but . . . his girlfriend had a dick—bigger than his
from the looks of it. Reaching down there would be sorta—well, gay.
He didn’t have to worry about it, though. Tanya
quickly buried her hand into her panties, gasping again when she ran her
tiny fingers across her tight and hard balls. A cursory examine, then:
"FUCK! I don’t have a pussy! My pussy’s gone! It’s gone, Frank! Where’s
my pussy!"
Frank sure as fuck had no idea. He was watching
Tanya’s dick bob up and down with her every scream. From a guy’s point
of view, she was packin’ the sort of meat all cocksmen dreamt about. She
was a foot long if an inch, and at least a couple of inches across. She
was also uncircumcised; Frank had heard that uncut dicks were the best
when it came to sex because they were so sensitive. From his point
of view, though—the last thing he wanted to see was a cock growing from
his girlfriend’s groin. Nor did he want to see her straddling him, massaging
her new-found balls, an expression of satisfaction in her eyes.
"Oh, Frank," she moaned. She was no longer in panic
mode, but seemed to be content to go with the flow. "Frank . . . I want
to cum. Please—help me. Would you—blow me?"
"HUH?" He didn’t like the sound of that . . . "I
can’t blow you—"
"Why not?"
"That’s like—fag stuff."
Tanya leaned over and kissed him. "I’ve blown you
many times," she whispered.
"That’s because you’re a girl."
"And now I’m a girl with a dick, and I’d like to
cum in your mouth."
Frank was having none of this shit. "I—can’t—"
"Then let me fuck you in the ass."
"Uh . . ." He wanted to throw Tanya off—but part
of him was getting turned on. Very turned on. Frank once fantasized
about Tanya becoming a hermaphrodite, having male organs situated around
her vagina. He thought about laying her back and fucking her, his balls
slapping against hers, Tanya jerking herself off, both of them cuming at
the same time—or maybe Tanya having two orgasms at once, cum flowing out
of her dick as Frank filled her—
He wanted to see her cum. Frank wanted to see a
girl with a dick shooting her wad across the room. He didn’t know if he
could put that huge cock of hers in his mouth, or let her go up his butt,
but when it came to masturbating . . . .
He closed his right fist around her shaft and slowly
began moving his hand in a way he knew he liked. Tanya was liking it as
well: her head slid back, a moan escaping. She put her hand over his and
together they moved in concert. Tanya tilted her groin forward so they
could get around the hem of the dress, allowing their hands to make it
all the way down to the bass of her shaft before moving up to the head.
Tanya had all the composure of a teenage boy getting
his first hand job: she was squirming, rocking, head lolling about, eyes
unfocused, mouth half open. A quick mutter: "Fuck it." Her hand began moving
faster, Frank quickly getting up to speed. Frank felt her cock stiffen,
grow bigger if possible. Tanya had THAT LOOK—she was gonna blow any second.
Her head back, moaning: "Oh, Fuck, ah, ah ahahahahah
.. . . ."
It wasn’t the first time Frank had felt cum. It
was the first time he’d felt it soaking into his clothes, the ejaculation
coming from a dick other than his—
Tanya fell into Frank, semen soaking both their
torsos. She wrapped her arms around him, her head on his shoulder, sighing
deeply. Frank smiled, wondering if she were going to roll off him and fall
asleep now. "Like it?" he asked.
"Uh, huh." Her breathing was slowing down, more
controlled. "I don’t know how I got this cock, but that . . . now I know
why guys are like they are. It’s just—"
"Yeah?"
"Am I gonna have this dick all the time now? I mean
.. . ." She looked at him, slightly worried. "I love being a girl.
But with this dick—it’s gonna make things hard—"
"No pun intended."
"Shit! You know what I mean. I want to have you
inside me, in my pussy, but now . . . it looks like—"
Suddenly she bolted upright and screamed.
With a mixture of fascination and excitement, Frank
watched Tanya transform. First her arms began to slide upward into her
shoulders. They grew shorter and shorter until her hands were sticking
out of her sockets. They hesitated there for only a moment before vanishing
completely. Then her shoulders pulled in and smoothed out slightly, leaving
her upper torso symmetrical, soft, and round. Tanya’s head rocked back
and forth, the horror and pain she felt obvious.
Her leather dress seemed to merge with her body;
in seconds she looked as if she had black leather skin. The pattern began
to change: instead of looking as if she wore a dress, the top began to
move downward until it formed a concave scoop near her navel. Her breasts
were completely exposed . . . and now it was their turn.
They began to swell. The DD’s expanded in a matter
of seconds until they looked to Frank like they could be HH’s. He couldn’t
tell without measuring them, but they had the size for sure . . . A second
set of breasts appeared below these, and grew quickly, matching the size
of the originals in less than fifteen seconds. Now leaning backwards because
her breasts were pushing her away from Frank as they filled the space between
them, a third set formed on the flesh around her navel. As they pressed
against Frank they forced her off his lap. Tanya fell squirming to the
floor.
She tried to sit up, but without arms—and three
huge sets of breasts on her torso—the best Tanya could do was roll
onto her back. Frank watched as she tried to get her legs under her body
.. . . The hem of Tanya’s dress vanished into her skin—became her skin—started
to flow down her legs, merging with the tops of her boots. There
was a loud snap as her feet were suddenly forced together— the leather
flowed; it appeared that Tanya was wearing one large boot.
Her vagina reappeared: a large, hairless mound where
the junction of her legs had formed her crotch. The slip opened slightly,
reviling a large, quivering clitoris. Tanya moaned, though not in pain:
the lips of her vagina pressed together—SHUDDER, another moan—an orgasm
racked the girl’s body. Fluid dribbled down her leathery skin as her pussy
opened, inviting Frank to explore.
Her legs filled out, grew rounder . . . lengthened.
Tanya’s feet pointed down, were pressed into a point as her legs grew longer,
the boot heels disappearing. Her knees vanished; it seemed as if the bones
were losing their rigidness, becoming flexible. Tanya was moaning now:
Frank’s breath was coming in short gasps, his cock rock hard. As he saw
her toes come to a final point on legs which stretched across the room,
he knew . . . he knew—
Tanya "sat" up. She was dazed, confused—and panting.
"Frank?" Her hair had grown, filled out. She looked like one of those big
haired girls from their early ‘60’s, her black bouffant sticking out several
inches from the sides of her head. To Frank it looked like she was wearing
a hood—which in a way, she was.
She looked down her body, her eyes wide. The skin
of her head, breasts, and upper torso was the same color it had been prior
to the transformation. Below that her flesh was smooth black leather, all
the way from her navel, past the mound of her seeping vagina, to the very
tip of her tail . . . .
"Frank!" She turned his way. He almost shot his
load as her breasts vibrated and swayed on her torso. The tip of her tail
began to whip around slowly. "What happened? What have I become?!"
"You’re—" He almost couldn’t bring himself to speak,
so great his excitement. "You’re a naga."
"The fuck issss that?!" She hadn’t realized her
"es’s" had become sibilant, drawn out.
"Naga. Half-human, half-snake." His cock was beginning
to hurt. He wanted to rip off his pants, release his own snake,
let it play— "It’s something—something I’ve fantasized about—"
As if she had been doing it all her life Tanya curled
her snake body beneath her torso and assumed the position of a cobra about
to defend its domain. "I’m half ssssnake? And you . . . you fantasssized
about thissss?"
"Yes."
She suddenly realized she had been hissing out her
"es’s". "Sssshit! Sssshit! I even ssssound like a ssssnake!"
Frank wanted to tell her, It doesn’t matter.
You’re beautiful! You’re so—sexy! He didn’t think it possible: dreaming
of Tanya as a naga had been an old fantasy, one he’d had with several women,
but never as strong as with Tanya. And now . . . here she was in the flesh,
a mass of coiled sexuality, ready to be fucked blind.
He stood up and approached her; reflexively she
raised herself up—just like a real snake, Frank thought—and reeled
back. "Honey, it doesn’t matter what you sound—or look—like. You’re fucking
lovely. I—I want you." He touched one of her breasts. Rather than recoiling,
Tanya closed her eyes half way and moaned softly.
She didn’t know how long she allowed this, this—pleasure
to overwhelm her, but Tanya didn’t hesitate, didn’t try to stop anything
.. . . and when the orgasm hit her, she could feel her entire body, all
fifteen feet of it, shudder with excitement. When she open her eyes Frank
was there, still kissing one set of breasts while touching the others in
turn. She couldn’t see her vagina, but she was aware of this wetness, this
stickiness covering the area where it lay . . . .
Still: "Frank, God, you’re making me cum sssso much
.. . . but— I can’t ssstay like thissss. I’m a monsssster—"
"You’re gorgeous."
"But . . . I’m not human."
Frank softly bit her nipple and sucked in—HARD.
Tanya gasped; fluid squirted from her pussy; they both heard it splattering
upon the leather sofa. There was this light touch upon her clitoris— "SSSSHIT!"
Frank’s hands were busy. She rolled her head to one side, straining to
see. The tip of her tail was flickering across her exposed clitoris like
a leather-clad finger. She willed the upper part of her to one side; like
a snake she bent, effortlessly while Frank continued sucking her breasts.
Tanya watched as she masturbated, astounded. It
was as if she’d done this all her life—as if she had been this thing
her entire life. She pulled her tail away and inserted it into her vagina.
Two inches, three, six . . . she could feel a foot—at least—inside
her body. She moved in, then out. In. Out. Faster . . . I’m fucking
mysssself with my tail . . . Without thinking she slid her tongue from
her mouth. Two inches of the tip was forked, but it still looked like a
human tongue, only flatter and thinner. More slid out. Some memory came
to her, and she reached out with her tongue . . . one foot, two
.. . . touch Frank’s back. She could taste him through his clothes: his
sweat, his pheromones, something else—CUM. Her cum. She almost remembered
something when Frank touched her clitoris. She went stiff, cuming: fuck
that, exploding. "Cuming" was too tame a word. "Orgasm" didn’t pack
enough punch. "Nuclear Detonation While High on Ecstasy" might come close.
Tanya felt as if her whole body was like some enormous clitoris, a living
fuck organ that looked as if it stepped whole from a myth.
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had
to tell Frank. "God, that is sssso good," she whispered. She swayed when
she moved her torso to kiss him. "Why do I have ssssuch huge breasssstssss?"
she asked. "Thissss issss ssssomething of a pain in the assssss, you know.."
Frank laughed. "I’ve always wanted you with huge
tits."
"Ssssix of them?"
He shrugged. "I’m a kinky guy."
"Another of your fantassssiessss?"
"Another of my desires, my dear."
That word—desires. It hit her. "The ring!"
She started looking around.
With everything that had happened in the last thirty
minutes—Fuck, that long?—Frank had forgot all about Tanya’s birthday
present. "What about it?"
She flipped over cushions on the sofa with her tail.
"It’ssss encccchanted. That’ssss why I cccchanged!"
Frank didn’t know if that was the case, but . .
.. it did make sense. It wasn’t as if I just wished this shit and it
happened. Then again, maybe it did . . . when Tanya was bemoaning the
addition of a man’s penis in place of her vagina, he maybe had thought
about how nice it might be if she lost the dick and turned into a multi-breasted
naga with leather skin and a body exceedingly sensitive to the touch,
one he could spend all his time fucking and sucking and getting the same
in return . . . and just as that small thought popped into his head—WHAM.
There it was. Tanya the Naga, big as shit—
"Here!" Her tail, as nimble as her fingers had been,
picked up the ring and brought it up so she could read the inscription
once more. "See, the word ‘desires’ is here. This ring must have brought
about the transformation!" She smiled. "Somehow it must have picked up
some fantasy from you, and that’s what I became."
"Makes sense to me." Frank didn’t care how she had
changed—his eyes were on that pussy. He wanted to find out if a snake really
was that tight—
His right wrist was suddenly seized by Tanya’s tongue.
Before he could react, Frank felt his girl friend forcing the ring onto
his pinky finger. "What the fuck—"
"I don’t have fingerssss anymore, Frank," Tanya
said. "You have to do thissss." She wrapped her tail around him and pulled
him close. "Assss much assss you like me thissss way, I can’t sssstay a
ssssnake woman the resssst of my life. Think of ssssomething ssssexy you’d
like me to be. I’ll take any fantassssy of yourssss . . . jusssst make
me human." She kissed him. "Anything you like . . . ."
Frank’s mind was in turmoil . . . his pants were
growing tighter, uncomfortable. Tanya dipped down—tongue out—ZZZZIIIIIP—"Jessssusssss!"
Frank was on autopilot: his mind was filled with swirling images, fantasies,
desires . . . .
He glanced down. His cock—damn! Bigger than Tanya’s.
Still swelling, but at least a foot and a half. Maybe two. Maybe more .
.. . blood rushing from his head, sights of girls with arms, legs, breasts—all
in different combinations. His nuts felt like ripe melons. "Oh, thissss
issss fantassssticccc . . . let me try . . ." Tanya’s tongue and tail slid
him inside her—TILT, MOTHERFUCKER! His brain short circuited, slammed
over into reboot mode . . . Tanya humping, sliding upon his gigantic cock,
moaning loud, a bitch-snake in heat.
Frank moved with the rhythm: nut pressure building,
cannonballs in his sack begging to release their treasure. He hadn’t felt
like this since his first time, and wished he could feel like this—do this—images
in his brain . . . .
Tanya screamed as she orgasmed, hers pulsing as
Frank came a faucet-full inside her. She waited to change—hoped to change.
But that orgasm was soooooo wonderful . . . didn’t matter. She couldn’t
stay a naga forever. People tended to notice a snake woman when you went
to the store . . . .
But where was the transformation?
Frank on the couch. Tanya knew his orgasm must have
been a hell of a lot stronger than he was used to. Although only a little
while back, the cum shooting out of her balls had been pretty intense.
And he was much bigger—
His dick was shrinking—
Oh, sssshit, she thought. What’ssss thissss?
Frank’s face turned soft, feminine, his hair blond,
long . . . longer . . . Breasts formed, punching out his shirt, popping
buttons. Big, nearly the size of her tits—maybe EE? F? First set formed,
then a third formed in the middle where the cleavage would be—pushing the
others aside. Two more outside those: Swelling . . . in thirty seconds
there were five large breasts across Frank’s chest, which was losing hair
quickly.
Two more breasts popped out below those. Tanya knew
what was going to happen. The more, the merrier, she thought. Five
breasts there, duplicates of the ones above. She giggled against her will:
as her mind started to slip off the deep end, she realized her error as
this madness crept into her being. The ring only worked for those who wore
it. The seed—semen. Old term, biblical. Spent meant to waste: sown meant
to plant. Inside . . . Cum flowed from her hole, Frank transformed
.. . . .
The blond hair spreading like seaweed, flowing over
the sofa now . . . Frank grew arms; a second set, a third, his sides becoming
shoulders. As quickly as the ten breasts had appeared he—"she?"—now had
ten arms, ten hands. A sex-changed Kali with tits galore. Tanya thought
if she had milk she could feed the world—
"Seed spent:" Tanya had jacked her mac, blew that
wad and wasted it on nothing but air. "Desire lent:" Frank’s fantasy. She
absorbed his kinky desire, was changed whole into this sexy, six-tited
snake. If she had cum inside Frank, she’d have become—what? No telling
now. "Seed sown:" Frank had came inside her pussy; the cooling remains
dribbling from her were testament to that fact. "Desires take thy own:"
Frank thought up some more strange shit, but it backfired, hit his ass
instead of hers. With the results—
The breasts and arms complete, now on to the lower
venues . . . Frank’s pants changed as his legs became longer, slimmer,
hairless. The pants wrapped around those beautiful legs and turned black
and shinny from toe to crotch—thigh high "dom boots," as Frank liked to
call them. They looked tight, painted on: calve muscles showing, no zipper—these
weren’t coming off. The heel looked extreme; maybe seven inches of sharp
stiletto. Tanya though Frank’s feet looked elongated so "she" could walk
in these things—
The crotch was Barbie smooth, but not for long.
A vagina appeared, rising up out of Frank’s flesh like a diver coming up
for air. The labia major began to swell—darken—lips sticking out a half
inch, maybe more. Labia minor: inner lips growing, escaping—they fell out
of their confine, hanging like small, pink, moist curtains an inch or more
beyond the swollen exterior. And this clitoris . . . It popped out like
a flower bud. Tanya thought it looked like a fleshy cigar butt. It must
have been a couple of inches long, and half that across. The woman Frank
had become moaned, her clit vibrating, working up to an orgasm.
The legs split like an ameba; so did the girl’s
vagina. In ten seconds she had a second set of both; the legs slightly
in front and to the side, the vagina riding above the original. The second
set of legs were longer; they seem to connect at the top of the pelvis.
Tanya knew walking would be a bitch.
The girl shuddered once, twice—loud, orgasm-induced
moan, hands reaching for breasts, pussies. Four arms shoulder the girl
to a semi-sitting position. "I’ve came, and I can’t get up." The voice
was soft, cutesy, bimboish: Tanya could hear the suppressed giggle.
"Frank?"
"Like, do I look like a Frank, Tanya?" She made
her way to her feet. Just as Tanya could move like a snake without thinking
about it, the former Frank-girl could move around in a fashion—although
those breasts were going to make any movement that didn’t require lying
down a lot of trouble. "Oh, my." She touched her breasts, six or seven
of them. She shuddered, the hip-lashing of an orgasm obvious. "Like, you
know, these tities are, uh, you know, sensitive—"
"What should I call you?" Tanya didn’t know if she
should start screaming or if she should strangle this strange looking bitch.
"Fran, honey." Her breasts look even larger when
she stood. A couple of sets of arms had to force their way under them to
be used. The nipples looked like you could hang a coat on them. "Like,
you know, used that snaky tail on me and, like, fuck me raw, okay? Frannie
could use, like, some meaty dick, but I’ll like take tail, you know?"
Tanya knew. Frank fantasized some bimbo fuck toy
as he was cuming—fantasy came back at his ass . . . changed him . . . made
her the empty-headed cum repository of all time. Tanya scanned many,
many digits—no ring to be seen. Quick check of the couch—nada. Tanya noticed
the jewelry box the ring had came in was missing as well. She knew she
didn’t knock it off . . . best guess: magic spent, the damn thing was gone
with the wind, never to return. Not that it would matter: "Fran" would
be the only one to use it—she still had fingers—and she’d just fuck herself
up more than she was now.
Fran closed in, mouth wanting some of Tanya’s tits
in her mouth. Tanya’s calm madness had taken residency, would be here full
time. She was Tangna now: Tanya-naga. What the fuck? What could she do?
What could they do?
Fran started sucking. Her breasts were rubbing against
Tangna, making them both feel good. The tail came up, found one of Fran’s
pussies, entered, penetrated . . . the fuck toy went on her knees gasping.
Hands finding both clits—masturbating feverishly. Tangna was in a foot
or more, maxing out Fran’s cunt . . . the babe was begging for more . .
.. .
Something else tugged at Tangna’s mind: "Seed sewn."
Sewn—planted. She searched inward, felt something there— She dipped
down and tasted her vaginal secretions. Yessss, obvioussss— She
was knocked up. Her eggs were quickening as Fran and her fucked away. How
long until they came out? They would when they would. Probably six: she
had the breasts for them. Enough for all the kids.
She turned and ran her tongue across Fran’s breasts:
the girl screamed as she came. Noisy little bitch. Tangna would figure
out how they would exist later. No time for it now . . . she put another
six inches of thickening tail into Fran’s pussy, watched her shake like
a puppet on a string.
It would be a good life.
Tangna wondered who her children would take after.
The End