If not for the pebble lying in her path, Karen Dunlevy’s
life would never have changed.
Up to that point Karen’s life had been pretty uneventful.
She’d moved to Las Vegas from central Illinois right out of high school.
Karen figured if there was anywhere she would enjoy working—until such
time she felt she was ready to continue on to college—it would be Sin City.
There should be all sorts of work a girl with only a high school education
could get. And at least it was warm there all the time.
Like a lot of girls her age, Karen’s expectations
far outweighed reality. She found employment as a dental receptionist,
but grew bored after a few months. She worked the night desk at a motel
for while, then returned to the receptionist field. Then she applied for
a job at the Hard Rock Casino . . . well, she tried to become a blackjack
dealer, but somehow became a cocktail waitress instead. She didn’t mind
walking around in heels all night, or the skimpy costume, or that guys
ogled her breasts and crotch when she gave them their drinks—after all,
it was a job, and sometimes you have to do things you don’t like . . .
.
Such as the time when she’d come up a little short
on the rent. Tips had been light, and her spending had been up—she needed
new clothes—and with a few days left in the month Karen realized she wasn’t
going to have enough to cover the bill on her digs. She’d lamented her
problem to a couple of the girls working her shift, hoping they might "loan"
her some money until she could rectify her cash flow problem—which didn't
happen.
Then Iris, a girl who’d started about the same time
as her, ask if she’d like to "help her out" with a problem of her own.
Seems Iris was going to party with a couple of high rollers up in their
room—only she found out at the last minute they’d invited a couple of other
guys over, and there was no way in hell she wanted to get down with four
men—so if Karen wasn’t against a little "fun" with guys who’d pay a lot
to be with a babe like her, her rent problems would be solved.
Karen swore she’d never prostitute herself again
after that, but a few weeks later she found her bank account shrinking,
and she just happened to ask Iris if maybe she knew of someone who’d like
a "date" for the evening . . . as Iris told her later, "After you spread
for the first guy, the rest are easy." And it was. Karen started hooking,
but only part time, maybe twice or three times a week. And she let Iris
set things up for her after work. She didn’t see anything wrong with what
she was doing; basically she was sleeping with guys for money, and most
of the time the guys—well, it wasn’t like they were bad. In fact, a couple
of them were just lonely guys looking for a little companionship, and Karen
sort of knew what they were going through—
But then Iris set them up with a couple of guys
who turned out to be LVPD Vice, and that was the end of the road on that.
Not only did Karen get a hooker jacket, but Iris had crack in her purse,
and that little mistake got her a nickel in the joint. Karen caught a $500
fine, a 30 day suspended sentence—and found her ass fired from the Hard
Rock.
She worked around a few other places—with the help
fake ID she’d managed to latch on to; seemed most casinos were leery of
hiring girls who’d been busted for prostitution—but as before she couldn’t
make enough to float the rent and other living expenses. Without Iris around
to set up dates, Karen found cash drying up.
So things looked hopeless.
Unless . . . .
On her nights off she swallowed her pride, put on
her shortest skirts and highest heels, and started "walking the streets."
She didn’t like it, but it did help with the bills. And she could at least
be picky with her "customers." She didn’t do a lot of older guys, and if
they seem too aggressive, she blew them off.
Eventually she found herself balancing her time
between serving cocktails and hooking, and both seemed to be keeping her,
if not rolling in dough, at least comfortable enough that she figured she
could get a condo inside a year.
Sometimes when she had the whole day to herself
she’d get out of the city and head into the country to do a little hiking.
Most of the time she headed into the Valley of Fire State Park, where she’d
walk trails for hours, letting her mind empty, putting behind all the reality
which made up her life. The hours she spent wandering the cannons, luxuriating
in the dry desert heat, cleansed Karen of the impurities in which she wallowed.
It was unfortunate that during one of her walks
she allowed her mind to wander too much, and as she was imagining a much
better life than her current one—
She stepped upon a small rock. Almost a pebble,
really . . . .
The rock twisted, which in turned caused her foot
to slip, which then caused her to lose her balance. This wouldn’t
have been so bad had she not been walking very close to the edge of a canyon
wall, and if her pack—overloaded with water and snacks—hadn’t shifted her
center of gravity enough that she went right over the rim towards the floor.
Karen didn’t even have time to scream on the way
down.
She only hoped it didn’t hurt too much—
The fall seemed to take a lot longer than Karen expected.
It was only as the fog cleared from her head that
she found herself standing on the cannon floor, not knowing how she’d
come to be here.
She wanted to turn and look up, but she couldn’t.
Something was keeping her eyes averted from the wall behind her. Not that
it was a bad thing; Karen figured she must be dead, and if she looked—
"No, my dear," came this sing-song voice which carried
a little too much of a Valley Girl lilt, "You aren’t dead."
Karen turned towards the source of that voice. She
was surprised—but not entirely—to see a naked woman floating in the lotus
position about twenty feet from her. To call her gorgeous was to damn her
with faint praise; Karen had never set eyes upon anyone whom she could
absolutely say was the ultimate embodiment of feminine exquisiteness.
The woman stood and floated gently to the ground.
Her skin glowed with a perfectness not found in real life. Her long blond
hair looked light and full; Karen knew it held itself in place through
conductive static electricity. She wasn’t too short, but just short enough
that it overemphasized her figure.
And her figure . . . it would have appeared the
perfect hourglass if not for one thing: the six large breasts which covered
her front torso. They were arranged in two rows of three breasts across.
Karen could see they possessed no sag even given their size, which she
thought might be around a D cup. They stood straight out from the woman’s
body, round and perfect like six large, fleshy balls topped by thick, erect
nipples.
Karen drew to within a few feet of the women, but
before she could speak the woman said, "I know: right now the question
running through your head is, ‘Who are you?’ Correct?"
"If you know what I’m going to ask, then you also
know the answer," Karen replied.
The woman nodded. "True enough." The woman sat on
air, placing her hands on her lap. Karen noticed for the first time the
woman had four arms. "Well, then, let me get right on with the introductions
.. . . I’m Aphrodite. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Karen."
I must have died, ‘cause this could only be one
of those near death things, Karen thought. But if that were true, then
there was no reason not to continue speaking with the apparition, since
there would be little else she could do. "Aphrodite? As in ‘The Goddess
of Love?’"
Aphrodite—if that’s who she actually was—cocked
her head to one side and smiled. "You could say that. It’s actually more
along the lines of ‘Goddess of Love, Sex, Drugs, Rock and Rock, and Whatever
Else You Can Throw in the Mix,’ but that’s getting a little too
detailed, doncha think?" She winked and patted the air next to her. "Have
a seat and lets chat."
Karen moved next to where Aphrodite had indicated.
Feeling silly—but also feeling like she had nothing to loose—Karen made
as if to sit on nothing more than thin air. To her surprise that is just
what she did; she felt a force place itself under her as she started to
sit, levitating on little more than a breeze. She pulled her legs up into
the lotus position and relaxed.
Seeing that Karen was comfortable, Aphrodite did
the same, then continued. "Now, this might seem a little strange, but I
have a reason for bringing you here—"
"Are you really Aphrodite?"
The woman stared at Karen for but a moment, then
snapped her fingers. Instantly two things happened: one, Karen’s clothing
vanished. One moment dressed, the next naked. Two, her clitoris began to
grow. Karen watched as it grew to about eight inches in length, then began
to reform into what looked like a man’s penis—a thick and erect one at
that. Seconds after being reformed, it began to grow again, and Karen realized
her new dick was finding it’s way up to—into—her mouth.
Once secured in her mouth, Karen felt something
else emerging from her crotch. She reached down and realized she was growing
a set of testicles from the skin below her vagina. They expanded rapidly,
reaching the ground—which was about three feet below where she sat—in a
matter of seconds. Only when this was finished did Karen’s hands grasped
her cock and begin rubbing the shaft of her enormous dick while she began
sucking herself off in earnest.
"Now," Aphrodite told her, "I can wait for you to
cum and we can see how much of your own semen you can swallow—or you can
accept without question that I am the One and True Goddess of Sex, Love,
Etc., and we can move on." Karen tried to answer, but her reply was muffled
by her dick. "Just blink your eyes twice if you want to get back to business."
Karen did so. With another wave of Aphrodite’s hand, Karen was back to
normal, though her clothes were still missing.
"Damn," Karen gasped. "I believe you, so don’t do
that again."
"Will do.
"You said you had a reason you wanted to talk to
me?"
"Yeah." Aphrodite squirmed a bit, then moved on:
"I’ve chosen you for something; a great honor, actually."
"Me?"
"You see another Karen Dunlevy around?"
Realizing her stupidity, Karen shook her head. "No.."
"Good. Now to the point: I need some time to myself.
Just like humans, gods and goddesses get—well, you know, burned out. And
when that happens we need to get away, spend a little down time relaxing.."
She sighed, then said, "Only problem is—well, being a goddess isn’t like
stockin’ shelves at the local Wal-Mart. We—I have responsibilities
that need to be looked after, and I have to designate someone to, you know,
do the lookin’." She touched Karen on the knee. "Honey, I want you to be
my stand-in so I can take off and get some rest."
Karen didn’t speak for close to a minute. She was
trying to comprehend what she’d just been told, and somehow it didn’t make
sense. Finally she asked, "I don’t know if I heard you right. You want
me to be your stand-in? And do what?"
"And be a goddess, of course," Aphrodite chuckled.
"I mean, what else would you be?"
Now I know I’m dead, Karen thought. Only
a weird-ass vision like this could happen to you if you—
"Were dead?" Once again, Aphrodite finished Karen’s
statement for her. "’Fraid not, honey. If you were dead—well, we could
have this conversation, but I couldn’t bring you back from the dead to
do this for me, since you’d be too far gone . . . and besides, death is
something Kali, Hades, and Yen Lo Wang deal with, not me." She went phitttt!
and said, "Fuck that noise. There’s too much fun being alive—"
She pointed to something behind Karen. "See? There’s
you’re proof you’re not dead—yet."
Karen was finally able to turn and see what had
been behind her. There, about ten feet above the ground, was—her, frozen
in space and time. She was falling backwards, legs and arms trailing, and
from where she sat Karen could almost make out the look of terror on her
face, the scream ripped from her throat . . . .
"What do you mean, 'yet'?" she asked, turning back
to Aphrodite.
"I mean . . . you could still die."
"How?!?"
Aphrodite cleared her throat, looked skyward, then
told Karen, "By not accepting my offer." She giggled when she saw the shock
on Karen’s face. "Well, what did you expect?"
"You mean if I don’t— Why? Why would you kill me?"
"Goddesses are capricious characters," Aphrodite
told her. "That’s one of the job requirements, I guess. Anyway, it’s like
this: I want you to be my proxy. If you say yes, then I twist the laws
of the universe as you know them thus—" She made a slight twisting
motion with her upper left hand, "You land on your fanny none the less worse
for wear and take over my position. But, if you decide being a goddess
is not for you—well, I just can’t have you running around town telling
your friends about our little tête-à-tête, can
I? I’ll let fate run it’s course . . ." She shrugged. "And you’ll end up
a rather large and bloody mess on the canyon floor. End of story." She
leaned over and whispered, "Nothing personal, you understand. But that’s
the way it goes."
Karen turned away from the sight of her falling
to her death. She knew this was freaky: I’m sitting here—somewhere—deciding
the outcome of my life with a goddess. And I can either die, or . . . what?
"You’re not giving me a lot of room here to move, you know," Karen said.
"Look at this like it’s—Einstein’s wardrobe. If
everything is the same color and style, then you don’t need to spend a
lot of time wondering what you’re going to wear. So, given your choices
.. . ." She nodded towards Karen’s plummeting form. "It’s not like we gotta
spend all day on this, right?"
"But why me?"
Aphrodite’s brow furrowed. "Why?" She looked skyward
once again, then told Karen, "Because I want you to do this. I don’t need
a reason." When she saw that wasn’t enough, she added, "Also, you’re a
perfect Clark Axiom—"
"A what?"
"Arthur Clark. Science fiction writer. Know him?"
When Karen shook her head, Aphrodite sighed. "You kids never read anything
good anymore . . . He proposed that when it comes to those who are put
into positions of power, the people who tend to do the best are those who
don’t really want the job. And that’s you; this isn’t something you’d really
want to do. So I figure you’ll do fine."
"But—"
"Hey!" Aphrodite threw up her hands. "No point talking
me out of this. I decided I need a vacation, you were at the top of my
A-List, so here I am, I pitch the deal, and tha-tha-tha-that’s all, folks.
End of Story." She crossed her arms. "So what’s it gonna be? Goddess-hood,
or death? You decide."
After all other things would be considered, Karen
had established one true fact: when you don’t have a lot of choices, deciding
comes quickly. "I’ll do it," she said begrudgingly.
"Cool!" She tapped Karen on the shoulder. "Trust
me, you might think I’m forcing this on you, but you’re gonna love being
me—"
"You?"
"Well, sure. I mean, you won’t be me, but
for all intents and purposes you’ll be Aphrodite . . . or maybe more like
Aphrodite’s Little Sister, but never the mind—you get the gig, you get
the name." She gave Karen a wink. "Just don’t blow it, okay? I’ve worked
a long time keeping my name in the public eye, and I don’t need my understudy
screwing things up."
"But . . . people don’t really believe in you, do
they?"
For the first time the goddess looked a little pissed;
her eyes darkened, her head jutted foreword—even the lighting seemed to
dim. It was over in seconds, and Aphrodite was back to her bubbly self.
"All gods and goddesses never really go away. It’s more like—we’re
on hiatus. People may not actually worship us, but there are those who
keep us in their heart, and that’s what matters. Besides, as long as the
New Oxford Dictionary keeps the word ‘aphrodisiac’ in the public lexicon,
I—and soon by extension, you—will be remembered. Think about
it." She snapped her fingers. Something with the appearance of pink, lumpy
Jell-O materialized in her upper right hand. "Ready to go all the way?"
Everything was happening so quickly that Karen was
on the verge of being bowled over. She stood up and pointed at the object
in Aphrodite’s hand. "What’s that?"
"Ambrosia."
"Of course." Now it was Karen’s turn to laugh, the
first time since all this started happening. "You’ve been watching
too many ‘Xena’ reruns."
"My dear," Aphrodite cooed, "Who do you think has
given Mr. Tapert and Mr. Raimi all their ideas, hummm?" She held out the
ambrosia. "Since you’ve seen the show, you know what you have to do first—"
"First?"
"Yes. First you eat the ambrosia—that will turn
you into a goddess-like being. Then, Part Two, I kiss you and transform
my essence into your form, which will make you almost like me. After that—I
kick back with a drink with a little umbrella, and you ‘become’ the new
Aphrodite."
Karen hesitated for just a moment, then thought,
I’ve agreed to this madness. What the fuck? It’s probably one of those
hallucinations one has just before they croak, anyway. She took the
ambrosia, noticing its sweet smell and its slightly oily texture. She put
the whole chunk in her mouth, savoring the flavor which tasted like—what
else? Ambrosia.
Nothing happened—at least nothing that Karen could
sense. It was only after she swallowed the morsel that she suddenly felt
as if she had wakened from a deep sleep; objects seemed so much brighter,
the sounds more vibrant, the touch of every air molecule upon her skin
so invigorating . . . It was only then her whole body shuddered
as every sense increased at an exponential rate.
Then Aphrodite kissed her on the lips.
Karen had never kissed a woman before. She’d had
many of her bi friends ask her if she’d like to make out, or if she’d ever
considered doing another girl, but Karen had never been interested. She
wasn’t homophobic or anything, just—disinterested. So to have a goddess
be the first woman she’d ever kissed . . . .
Karen was in heaven. The kiss was so soft, so sensual,
so—romantic, that she wished it’d never stop. As the kiss continued
she felt something rushing through her body like a freight train,
a sensation which started at the top of her head and pushed its way down
through her neck, chest, breasts (where her nipples snapped instantly erect)
, waist, hips, legs, right down through the soles of her feet. When her
body was completely filled with this sensation, she orgasmed. Ferociously.
To Karen if felt like a volcano had replaced her vagina, and it was erupting,
Mount St. Helens style, spewing her cum instead of lava. And it kept happening
over and over and over and . . . .
She didn’t know just how long it went on, but only
when Aphrodite broke the kiss did she flutter her eyes open and return
to what was passing for the real world. "Goddamn," she whispered. Her body
felt funny, but considering what she’d been through . . . .
Aphrodite’s smile was brilliant. Her skin glowed.
Her eyes shined with a light which hadn’t been there before. But, as Karen
noticed, even the landscape around her looked different. Colors,
textures, shadows—everything had the feel of an image which had been enhanced.
"Feeling—strange?" Aphrodite asked. To Karen even
her voice sounded—softer, more musical.
"Yeah."
"That’s because you’re no longer human. You’re a
goddess." She looked around. "You’re seeing the world as we see
it; not just that which makes up the surface, but everything as a whole
.. . ." She took Karen’s hands in hers and squeezed. "Welcome to the rest
of your existence."
Karen was so overwhelmed by the change that had
come over her that a few moments passed before she realized—she was holding
all four of Aphrodite’s hands. With a shout she stepped back, holding
up four hands of her own. "What the fuck . . ?!? What is this?!"
"Well, what do you think?" Aphrodite checked the
nails of both left hands. "I transferred to you my essence, my being,
if you like, and in doing so . . . well, you had to take on most of my
aspects, right?"
Two of Karen’s hands fell to her breasts. If she
now had four hands . . . yes, it was as expected. Her breasts had also
changed; they were exactly like Aphrodite’s, two rows of three breasts
crowded across her frame. Only . . . rather than being upset—well, not
too upset—Karen felt more pleased than anything else. Perhaps it
was because she was touching her nipples, and unlike with her old breasts,
these felt much more— Sensitive wasn’t the correct word: alive
was more like it. Touching a nipple sent a shudder through her body that
Karen had only felt when rubbing her clitoris. Rubbing that nipple . .
.. she couldn’t believe there was such a sensation which warmed her
breast and started her heart a-beating. Lightly massaging two increased
the sensation greatly. It wasn’t doubled; it went much higher.
Ten fold? Twenty? Fifty? All Karen knew was a stream flowing from her vagina,
running down her legs like a sticky overflow. She brought her other hands
forward to play with her other nipples—
"Whoa, honey, slow down!" Aphrodite pulled Karen’s
hands from her breasts. "You got time for that latter! For now, I got to
get going . . . ."
"Where?" Karen was still a little flush from her
slight exploration of her new body.
"Vacation, honey." She pushed her hair from her
face. "I’ve got Medea joining me for drinks in a few hours . . . she might
be a little crazy, but she’s a lot of fun to party with," she told Karen,
winking. "Anyway, there’s nothing else to do. You are a goddess now—actually,
you are ‘Aphrodite’ for all intents and purposes. Which means you can use
the name—just be careful you don’t screw my reputation, or I’ll be pissed—"
"Wait!" Again, this was happening all too fast for
Karen to comprehend. "What do I do? I mean, okay: I’m a goddess—"
"No, you’re Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, Sex—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know the rest. But what do I do?"
"Whatever a goddess is suppose to do, girl. Use
your imagination. I mean, what I usually do is—fuck with people. That’s
what gods and goddesses do. What else is there?"
"So I’m left up to my own devices?"
"Pretty much so." Aphrodite winked again. "Think
of yourself as a ‘Goddess in Training.’ After the first hundred years you’ll
have the hang of it."
"Hundred?—"
Aphrodite waved her hand and she was suddenly clad
in a metallic gold bikini which managed to cover all her breasts in a rather
complicated fashion. Karen thought if anything it made her look more sexy
that before. "I gotta cut." She looked at one wrist as if there was a watch
there. "Lets say we meet back here—oh, around noon, Summer Solstice, 4001.
That’ll give me a couple of millennium to have some down time and get rested—"
"Couple . . . millennium?"
Aphrodite raised both right hands to wave. "Toottiles,"
she quipped, fingers wriggling. "Have fun—and don’t do anything I wouldn’t
do!"
And with that—
Karen suddenly found herself sitting on her fanny.
She looked around for her body hanging in mid-air;
it wasn’t there. Ergo . . . she assumed she was back in the "real" world.
And alive, not splattered all over the ground like an oversized blood bag.
She started to brush herself off, and instantly
realized she still had the extra arms and breasts which had been "given"
to her by Aphrodite, and that her tee shirt had "magically" changed so
that it enclosed her breasts—well, almost, Karen could feel the slight,
hot breeze tickling her bare midriff—and had an extra set of sleeves for
her new arms.
Great, she thought, standing. How the
hell am I going to explain this shit? Better yet, how am I going to get
back to my car without being noticed—
Karen looked around, her senses still on high. She
smelled the dry, desert air, and noticed for the first time the multitude
of scents present—including her own, something she’d never noticed before.
She realized if this was how life as a goddess would be, then--
Then . . . Karen’s wondered about her current problem.
How do I get back to my car without being seen like this? she thought.
Then: Why should I go back to my car? If what I’ve been told is true—and
why wouldn’t it be?—she held up her arms as if to prove to herself
once more that something unusual had occurred—then I should be able
to do things a goddess—no, that Aphrodite would do. After all, that’s
who I am now, isn’t it? The Goddess of Love?
And if the Goddess of Love needed to get home
.. . . .
Karen relaxed. She was trying to visualize her apartment
in her mind . . . when she unexpectedly felt as if she were watching a
video being run on fast foreword. Her vision—all her senses were being
hurtled across the desert towards Las Vegas; she could see the landscape
fly by as her point of view came closer and closer . . . then, as if she
were a bird swooping in, she saw her apartment complex below, growing near.
She moved through the roof, the ceiling and floor of the unit above hers—and
finally she was seeing her living room.
If it were only this easy, she thought, then
realized it was. She was in her living room, if only in her
mind . . . but she knew if she could think it, then doing it would be child’s
play—
She grunted her satisfaction, then stepped forward,
imagining she was walking into her living room.
Her form seemed to shimmer and grow hazy. Then it
vanished.
Other than her footprints, it was as if Karen had
never been there.
It was late that evening before Karen began to finally
accept that her old life had been dumped into the shitter, and that, for
better or worse, she was really a goddess.
After the shock of transporting herself from the
Valley of Fire wore off, Karen began the process of examining herself.
Her second shock came when she looked in the mirror in the living room.
Besides the extra breasts and arms, Karen was now an identical twin of
"big sister" Aphrodite, as she was coming to think of her. It wasn’t that
she didn’t like the beauty, but . . . Having the extras would be hard enough
to explain; trying to convince people that she really was Karen Dunlevy
might be an even more daunting task.
She thought it might be nice if she still looked
like her old self . . . and as she watched her features flowed and shifted,
and within ten seconds she was the way she’d looked before agreeing
to his goddess gig.
Karen realized that she was exactly as she had been,
right down to losing the extra breasts and arms. But she also knew this
wasn’t real—this might have been her body at one time, but not any more.
Just to make sure . . . she thought of herself as having really large breasts,
maybe the size of over-inflated beach balls. They started growing—slowly,
but surely. After half a minute her breasts had inflated to where each
was at least a couple of feet across. Then Karen thought of having another
set—and they also appeared and grew, completely covering the lower half
of her torso and abdomen.
And I wonder . . . Karen thought of being
just "herself"—and in a moment she was "little sister" Aphrodite, appearing
the way she knew she’d always look from now on.
At least when she wasn’t wanting to be anyone else.
For the next few hours Karen practiced shapeshifting,
and learned that with a little practice, there wasn’t anyone—or anything—she
couldn’t be. She changed herself into a dozen famous women; she turned
herself into a statue; she became a mermaid, a centaur, and a werewolf;
she changed into an anthropomorphic catgirl, complete with six breasts;
she made herself "melt" just like that robot in the last "Terminator" movie,
then reformed back into another person; she even changed herself into Bubbles
from "The Powerpuff Girls", which freaked her out to no end, particularly
when she started flying around the room . . . .
Then she started working on the world around her.
Karen wondered if she had control over inanimate
objects—and if she could whistle shit up out of thin air. With a thought
and a wave of her hand she covered her now naked body with a robe spun
of gold and silver—attire fit for a goddess, she thought. Then she
changed it into an all leather ensemble—sexy, and comfortable. After she
changed her skin into something akin to a shiny black PVC catsuit, Karen
was satisfied she could make anything she wanted.
With that she looked around her apartment—
And changed it with a wave of her hand.
The living room expanded, disappeared into what
should have been the units next door. Just like that Karen had enlarged
the living room to nearly the size of the main room at the MGM Grand. Silk
curtains covered the walls. Torches sat in mounts on marble columns which
vanished into the overhead darkness. Carpet three inches thick covered
the entire floor.
The furniture had transformed into something very
"Romanesque"; gold and white divans and chairs straight out of a gladiator
movie. A marble table with a huge bowl of fruit sat to the side of an object
that looked like a king-king-king sized bed with a canopy which literately
glowed a soft gold and pink.
Karen walked over and laid upon the bed. It was
comfortable beyond belief: this was the sort of bed one could spend the
rest of their life in—
And in my case, that could very well be a long
time, she thought.
While on her back Karen felt something—weird. Well,
not that strange, but different. She realized she was horny. Very horny.
Feeling the silk sheets against her back and buttocks and legs caused a
sensation to run through her unlike any she’d ever encountered before . .
.. and she wanted to masturbate, badly. She held up her four hands. I’ve
got more than this to take care of, she thought. I wonder .
.. . She concentrated, and suddenly four more hands appeared, the new sets
attached to her abdomen.
Smiling, she placed a hand on each breast and began
rubbing, while one hand fingered her vagina as she rubbed her clitoris.
As the first huge orgasm built, Karen thought, Now I know why these
gods used to get so cranky when they couldn’t get laid—
The next night found Karen sitting about wondering
what to do next. She’d spent hours playing with herself, and wanted something—new.
She hadn’t been hungry or thirsty, which she expected: she was a goddess,
and it wasn’t as if any of them had to dash off to the local burger joint
to eat whenever the mood struck. She realized she’d probably never, ever
get hungry again. Nor had she found it necessary to sleep. She’d been awake
since taking over this "job," and also expected she’d sleep only if she
felt like it.
But here she was, a little over a day into this
goddess thing, and she was bored.
Karen didn’t want it to be that way. After all, it was
going to be at least two thousand years before the "real" Aphrodite wanted
her job back—and what would she do after that? If the stories were true—okay,
if what she’d seen on "Xena" were true—she’s always be a goddess.
Maybe not Aphrodite, but she’d be one. Which meant she was immortal.
And that meant if she were bored now, what
was she going to be like, say, ten thousand years from now?
Shit.
It would have been better if "big sister" had given
her some hints on what to do, but no: bitch was in too much of a hurry
for a rubdown or something. Ah, screw her, Karen thought, causing
a golden goblet of wine to appear in her right hand, I’ll figure this
shit out on my own. If she could do it—
It was then that she sensed someone looking over
her shoulder.
She turned, but no one was there. Nonetheless, Karen
had this notion that someone was watching her—no, wait. More like talking
to her. She could just make out the whispering, but the words we impossible
to decipher.
Then it hit her:
Someone was praying to her.
That was it! Someone was worshiping her this very
moment. Karen was happy. This would mean that her existence wouldn’t be
completely worthless, that she wouldn’t be a goddess without a thing to
do—
In an instant the words appeared in her mind, lit
up like a Vegas marquee:
What good are goddesses if they don’t answer
a prayer now and then?
"You want something from the Goddess of Love," she
mumbled as she waved her hand. "Okay, bring it on."
Two young women appeared at the foot of her bed.
Both were still kneeling, both chanting. "—Goddess, hear our plea and gran—HOLY
SHIT!!" One girl went on her ass while the other leapt three feet off the
ground, falling to her knees as she tried to get her trembling legs to
support her.
"Wh—who are you?" the girl on her knees asked.
"Why, I’m Aphrodite," Karen said, smiling. She paused
for effect, then made the goblet disappear. "The Goddess of Love.
You were praying to me, and I thought—well, I’d see if there was anything
I could do for you."
The girl on her knees looked as if she were going
to piss herself. The one on her ass blinked hard for about twenty seconds,
then asked, "Are you really Aphrodite?"
Karen waved her hand once more. The girl’s breasts
quickly expanded, covering her body as they each grew to about six feet
across. Pinned to the ground by her own tits, the girl was too shocked
to scream; she only mumbled something incoherent while attempting to free
her arms.
Karen shrunk her back to normal after a minute.
"Now, if either of you ask any more dumb ass questions, I’ll give both
of you tits like that and send you on your way to deal with it," she told
them in no uncertain terms. She leaned back, propped herself up with her
elbows, and spread her legs, giving the girls an unrestricted view of the
body part named for her. "Now, what can I do for you?"
The girl on Karen’s left—the one who had jumped
and rose unsteadily to her feet. "Great Goddess Aphrodite," she said, "we
would like you to grant our request—"
"I figured that much out, dear," Karen replied.
"What’s you name, child?"
"Linda. Linda Powel."
Karen gave her the once over, and realized she knew
this girl. "Do you work the street out next to Bailey’s?" she asked. "And
do you go by the name Mandy?"
Her eyes grew wide, then Linda/Mandy nodded. "Yes,
that’s true."
"So you’re a prostitute?"
"Yes."
"How old are you?"
Linda hesitated, then said, "I’m nineteen." When
Karen didn’t reply, she continued. "I ran away from home because my stepfather
was fucking me all the time, and my mother didn’t do anything about it,
and . . ." Tears were starting to form in her eyes.
Karen looked into the girl’s memories and saw that,
stereotypical as the story might seem, it was true. She felt a moment of
pity for the girl. "And what are you asking for, Linda?"
The girl motioned for her friend to stand next to
her. "This is Anna—"
"Another prostitute?"
Anna spoke. "Yes, Goddess, I am."
"And your age?"
"Seventeen."
Fuck me. Thought she knew a lot of the prostitutes
in Vegas were young, Karen didn’t know they were this young. Looking into
Anna’s memories she saw that the girl was only a few weeks past her birthday,
and that she’d been in Sin City for the better part of a year . . . "This
is too fuckin’ much," she mumbled, and waved her hand.
A glow surrounded both girls. They grew a few inches
taller, their hair flowed to the small of their backs. Their breasts filled
out to a D cup; their legs became long and sleek, their hips and asses
round and firm. More important, their faces took on a certain maturity
that teenagers lack, but which might be found on ladies in their early
twenties.
"There," Karen said. "You both now appear to be
twenty five. You won’t age for another ten years, and when you do, you’ll
start aging normally from your now apparent age." She smiled. "I won’t
have teenage hookers selling their asses on the street. You want to whore,
fine; but at least look like something other than jail bait."
Both girls hugged after examining each other, murmuring
endearments as they petted. They turned to face Karen, their eyes streaked
with tears. "Oh, Goddess," Anna said, her voice breaking, "thank you, thank
you. You’ve done for us—me . . . I don’t know how—"
"Don’t worry; it’s a freebie." Karen moved to the
edge of the bed and crossed her legs. "Now, what did you really want?"
This time it was Linda who answered. "We’ve known
each other for many months now," she said softly, "and, well—" She squeezed
Anna’s hand. Karen didn’t have to be a goddess to know what that
meant. "We want to be together forever."
"That’s easy enough—"
"We want to share everything," Anna gushed.
"We . . . we love each other so much—" She gazed up into Linda’s eyes.
"I’ve never had anyone treat me so good before . . ." She turned back to
Karen. "Goddess, if you do this for me, I will give you anything—"
"Anything?"
Both girls paused, wondering just what it was they
might have to offer to a Goddess. Then, in unison, they nodded. "Anything
you ask of us," Linda said, "we’ll do."
Karen wasn’t going to give this much thought. Here
she had a couple of worshipers willing to go to the mat for in return for
her granting their wish of being together "forever." But there was this
sense that fulfilling their wish would be too easy . . . and then she remembered
something she was told: " . . . what I usually do is—fuck with people.
That’s what gods and goddesses do."
Goddess are a capricious lot, she thought.
So I might as well get the with program.
Karen waved her hand . . . .
Linda and Anna didn’t understand what was happening
to them—not at first. As before a glow surrounded them, but it wasn’t until
their body parts began flowing together that they recognized they might
be getting more than they asked for.
Linda’s right arm disappeared into Anna’s left,
then their shoulders merged as the skin around their hips opened and joined.
Both were screaming as Linda’s right leg combined with Anna’s left, making
a middle leg for them to stand upon.
Once their torsos had become one, their breasts
began moving into position, with Linda’s twisting ninety degrees and laying
upon the right side of "their" new chest, and Anna’s doing the same on
the left. After they were in place, all four swelled, becoming slightly
larger than a D cup.
Another set of arms popped out below Linda’s and
Anna’s remaining arms. In moments they were the same size as the others.
Immediately, another set emerged below the new set, giving the conjoined
girls six hands with which to hold themselves.
The glow surrounded the girl’s faces—now only inches
from the other on their shared set of shoulders—and their features changed
so that neither girl looked as she had, but rather as they might look had
someone morphed their faces together into one image. When it was done they
looked like true twins, not just a couple of girls sharing the same body.
"There," Karen said, wiping her hands. "That should
do it."
"Wha—What have you done to us?!" the girls cried
in unison.
"Granted your wishes."
"But—"
"Are you going to piss all over this gift I, Aphrodite,
have given you?" Karen told them, raising her voice just enough to sound
offended. She was enjoying this; seeing how startled they were, hearing
the panic in their voices . . . She could see why gods were always portrayed
as having little concern with humans—it was fun doing this sort
of shit to people!
The girls cast a glance at each other, then Linda
said, "No, Aphrodite. It’s just—"
"It’s just what?"
"We didn’t expect this!" Anna cried. "I mean,
we’re—"
"Just what you wanted." Karen crossed her arms and
legs and told them, "You wanted to be together—and you are. You wanted
to share everything—and you will. So cut the shit." Both girls cast their
eyes downward, fearful of what might come next.
But Karen wasn’t about to nail them. "You’re love
for each other will grow now. You share the same body, and therefore will
share the same experiences, as well as the emotions which arrive from those
experiences. Trust me: I know these sorts of things."
"But won’t people—"
"No one will think you any different. To those who
meet you, you’ll have always been conjoined twins. And sexy ones
at that." Linda and Anna smiled when told that. They began examining their
body, and understood that not only where they together—but their body responded
to their touch in ways their old bodies could never.
Before Karen let them get carried away she told
them, "Now: you mentioned something about doing anything for me?"
This snapped them both back to reality. "Yes, Aphrodite,"
Anna replied. "We did say we would do anything you asked of us."
"And here’s what I want . . ." She paused for nearly
a minute; Linda and Anna looked as if they were on the verge of screaming
when finally Karen said, "First, you will remain prostitutes. Given your
new—appearance, you’ll never be in want of customers. You will do this
for the next hundred years, or until I say otherwise." Both girls shuddered
slightly, imagining a century of walking the Strip. "Don’t worry; you’ll
likely not have to hook long. I’m sure someone soon will desire your services
full time, if you know what I mean . . . .
"Second. You will be the first of my faithful who
will proselytize, who will tell those who will listen of my power and benevolence.
While nearly everyone will believe you to have always been the way you
now are, your job will be to convert those who want to believe, who might
not otherwise know it was the Goddess of Love whom has laid her hand upon
you—and who is willing to do the same for others." She smiled. "I only
ask for their love, faith, and worship."
It was Linda who said, "We will do this, Goddess."
"Oh, one other thing." Karen frowned. "You will
never complain about what I have done to you—nor will you ever indicate
you are displeased with each other. Love is very important, and you will
not fall out of love . . . otherwise—well, you won’t like the outcome:
I’ll turn you both into statues and put you at opposite ends of the Earth,
and you’ll have the rest of eternity to contemplate how your lack of love
got you there."
Linda and Anna’s heads turned. The gazed into the
other’s eyes, then brought their lips together. Anna’s hands touched Linda’s
breasts as Linda did the same to Anna, while Karen sat in silence as they
caressed their body for a minute or two.
When they were finished, Anna turned back and said,
"We’ll remain faithful to your request, Aphrodite." She squeezed both nipples
on Linda’s side, releasing a moan not only from her lips, but from Anna’s
as well.
Linda twisted her head so she could rub against
Anna’s hair. "Is there anything else you would like from us, Goddess?"
"Yes." Karen leaned back on the bed. "I want you
to eat me."
"Huh?!" came the girl’s startled reply.
Karen raised her head. "I want you to eat me; give
me oral sex; lay a good tongue lashing on me . . . suck my cunt, make me
cum . . . do I have to spell it out for you?"
"No, Goddess," both girls replied. Moving as if
they had always had three legs, Linda and Anna crawled into bed with Karen,
positioning their heads between her spread legs. Taking turns, each moved
her tongue over her vagina and inner thighs, kissing and caressing their
goddess in a way they hoped might gain them more favor . . . .
Karen came the moment a tongue touched her clitoris.
Her orgasms were rapid fire, one right after the other. After cuming twenty
times, she ordered the girls to put their vaginas in her face so she could
69 them—and then grew another head so that neither would have to wait their
turns. Feeling just a tad naughty, Karen forced their clitorises to swell
until the were almost an inch across—then she put her tongue upon them—
When the girls screamed in delight, Karen’s heads
turned and grinned, then went back to work, her last thought being, I
think I’m going to enjoy this gig—
The End