After five years of marriage, David Cather thought
he could say he and his wife—the beautiful and extremely sexy Gina—had
tried just about everything in the realm of sexual enjoyment.
David had met Gina Monachelli at the start of both
their senior years in college. He was attracted to her the first time he
laid eyes on her, and for good reason—she was the image of what he saw
as "the perfect woman." Five foot tall with dark, olive-toned skin, large
brown eyes, and thick, full, lips, Gina’s firm body was crowned with a head
of long, thick, curly jet-black hair reaching well past her shoulders.
And as if this wasn’t enough . . . Gina was in possession of the largest
tits David had ever laid eyes upon. That alone made her well worth the
price of ogling—even if he wasn’t alone in that department.
As luck would have it, Gina zeroed in on David and
sought him out. She later told him that there was "something strange in
his gaze" and she thought this would be enough to scope him out and discover
what he was about. It didn’t take long to discover they both were interested
in sex—and not necessarily the kind best taken straight up.
Once back at his place—David was sharing a place
off campus with two other guys—Gina stripped and asked if he had any baby
oil. Immediately upon producing the oil she told him what she wanted: "Oil
my breasts, tit fuck me, and cum in my face." David didn’t need to be asked
twice. Less than a minute after placing his cock between those slippery
32 DDs he erupted, spraying her neck, chin, cheeks, hair—you name it. If
it was anywhere near her head, it was covered in his semen.
She sat up, cum dripping from her face. She moved
to kiss him, then stopped and whispered, "Lick my face clean, okay?" Much
to his surprise David didn’t hesitate, lapping up his love juices for the
first time, never thinking for one moment why he would swallow his
own cum, but instead just doing it.
When he was done Gina kissed him and said, "Oh,
baby. I think I’ve found my true love."
They were married right out of college.
Gina confessed while they were dating that she was
"probably a nympho" who found strange sex "fucking boring" and was driven
by her desire to "try everything imaginable—and more." She told David about
how she had been a virgin until her eighteenth birthday, when she’d went
out to the car of her brother’s best friend and laid him, "For the fuck
of it," as she said. She told him about twosomes and threesomes and group
sex; about tit fucks and ass fucks and sucking cock until she was dizzy;
about S & M and B & D and how she’d nearly been blinded by a "pseudo-Master"
the year before, and how the possibility of never seeing again had turned
her on; about her many encounters with women, and how she’d "dominated"
her roommate, turning her "into a sexual plaything with a BS in Economics
and a love of eating pussy."
She asked David if he thought any less of her.
He told her they had a lot of catching up to do
.. . . .
The five years had been interesting. David and Gina
both had well-paying jobs in the private sector. While not "well off,"
they certainly had enough money to keep them happy.
Sex was never out of the question, and there were
few boundaries put upon their play, with death and mutilation seeming to
be the only things verboten. During the day they both put on their
corporate faces and slaved away; at night one might find Gina inserting
a 300 pearl strange up David’s ass and removing it slowly, one pearl at
a time, as she sucked him off. Or Gina lying upon the kitchen table masturbating
with an eighteen inch dildo as David taped the experience. Or giving each
other golden showers in the bathtub. Or chaining themselves face to face
to each other for an entire weekend.
Gina also loved to role-play. Most of the time it
was "Master-slave" stuff with the roles interchangeable. Every once in
a while, though, they felt like taking their fantasies outside to the public
forum. Having sex in public places had become second nature, but they’d
chilled this out after getting busted once in a local mall parking lot.
The "Club Pickup" was always a popular game, and Gina usually got into
being the object of David’s desire, playing her part to the hilt. The twist
on this was the "Club Whore," when Gina would put out eventually, but only
for a price. The twist on this game would be when David would have
Gina not only proposition someone else, but bring home the money after
the act. Gina and David got so into this game once that Gina spent an evening
"plying her trade" on a street corner, and did three guys before calling
it a night.
Then came Halloween . . . .
The year before Gina had been invited to a party
by one of her co-workers. Gina wanted them to get all dressed up in leather
and latex, which David thought he would enjoy. There was just one catch:
Gina wanted them to be lesbian lovers. David was a little leery
of this at first, since it would require him getting dressed up as a woman.
Gina assured him it would be okay; she pointed out that he had a slim physique
and soft features which, if done right, would allow him to be "transformed"
without a problem. And since they had a month to get ready . . . .
By the time they arrived at the party, Gina could
show off "Darla" without fear of anything recognizing "her" as her husband.
Her "lover" was dressed in a tight black leather pencil dress with a build
in corset pulled tight to show off her slim waist and smooth, round hips
and ass. The dress, a fetish outfit, sealed at the neck and didn’t allow
anyone a peek Darla’s cleavage—which everyone admitted must have been awesome,
given the girl’s tremendous 36 EE cups. Her long black hair ringed her
tastefully made-up face, and her two inch long nailed were painted a lavender
which matched her toenails. Gina—herself decked out in a bright blue PVC
mini dress—showed off the girl, making her mince around on the platform
sandals with seven inch heels. It was a shame that Gina had forbidden the
girl to speak, as many in the room wanted to strike up a conversation with
her . . . .
David didn’t admit anything to Gina until after
the party, but the month he’d endured becoming feminized had struck a cord
that he hadn’t known existed. He’d loved the long hair, the nails, the
weight of the latex breasts affixed to his chest, the feel of the corset
around his waist, the forms which filled out his hips and ass and hid his
genitals; the swish of his legs against the leather . . . for the
entire evening he had believed himself to be Darla, and had loved
flirting with everyone, doing Gina’s "slave" work—and didn’t even complain
when "her master" ordered her to her knees so she could suck off a gentleman
who’d given Gina $100 so he could enjoy a blow job from "her little lover—"
On the way home David admitted he wanted Gina to
feminize whenever she felt like it. Gina said she would love to.
Only David knew that no mater how far they went,
it wouldn’t be enough.
It was Gina’s dream which brought David to this strange
place . . . .
Sven months had passed since that Halloween party,
and Darla had become as real a person as David. At least twice a week—usually
on the weekends—Gina transformed her husband into Darla. Sometimes the
transformation would last for only a few hours—usually the time spent out
at a club, or going to a movie, or having dinner as "girlfriends". David
had learned to master a voice which sounded like a woman’s, and people
who met them didn’t seem to know the difference.
There were other times, though, when Darla existed
for most of a day, if not longer. They would go shopping, trying on clothes
and shoes and underwear, then go home and "model" for each other . . .
and sometime after that they would head out for a club to go dancing—and
anything else that might happen. The first time "anything else" had occurred
happened right before Christmas. Gina and Darla were out dancing, and being
the two hottest "girls" in the room it was only natural that guys were
hitting on them as if there were no tomorrow. Then someone started passing
around Ecstasy, and suddenly getting hit on felt good . . . Darla
found herself dancing with this guy with no name, but whom to her "feminine"
eyes appeared very attractive—and attracted to her. He slipped up behind
her, his hard-on jabbing her in the ass, and asked if she would like to
fuck. "I can’t," Darla/David replied, "I’m having my period. But . . .."
She turned and smiled, licking her lips. "I wouldn’t mind sucking that
big, hard cock of yours. If you don’t mind . . . ."
Gina was waiting at the table twenty minutes later,
watching Darla return from her quick excursion to the parking lot. She
gave her husband/girlfriend a sideward glance and asked, "You suck him
off?"
"Yes," came the reply.
Gina sipped her Black Russian, then said, "You slut."
The next morning Gina told David, "You know, I had
the strangest dream. We were out dancing, but it wasn’t you dressed up
like Darla—you were Darla. You were a real girl. Only this time
you had short red hair and a very dark tan, and your tits . . . they were
twice the size of mine! You had on this mini dress, this red number . .
.. man, you were so fucking hot! You leaned over to me—your cleavage was
all over the place, the guys next to us were drooling—and you asked, ‘Would
you like to suck my nipples? They’re so sensitive—‘ And I came. In my sleep!
I had a wet dream; that’s the first time I ever had that happen!"
David thought for a moment. "Do you think it would
ever happen?"
"Not like that," Gina said. "There’s no way you
could ever be that real of a girl." She shrugged, sipping her coffee.
"But it’s nice to think about it."
Which caused David to do some thinking of his own
.. . . .
When David had been a young teenager, his grandfather
had spent a lot of time living with the family. While most of David’s family—his
mother in particular, since she’d grown up with this man—found some of
his stories about the way things had been year before to be—well, tiresome
bullshit, David was somewhat enthralled by the old man’s yarns. Especially
the ones about scoring with girls—but that’s another story.
One of the stories David’s grandfather had told
concerned a well just outside of town in what was now one of the quainter
suburbs. Back when the old man had been a kid, the story was that if you
went to the well, threw in a coin, and made a wish, the wish would come
true. Most people didn’t believe it—"Even my own friends thought I was
full of bull-hocky, Davie," the old man told him—but for those who did
believe . . . well, as the old man once explained, things were different.
"Your grandmother was a fine woman," he said one
time. "Although most people never thought so. You see, when your grandmother
and I first met, she was rather plain . . ." David had found this hard
to believe; he’d seen pictures of the woman as a young girl, and to David’s
eyes, she’d been a total babe.
"But I liked her a lot, and that was fine. Only
.. . . your grandmother wanted to be beautiful, like those movie stars,
you know? Only back years ago they didn’t have all this plastic surgery
stuff and whatnot, and what they did have someone like me couldn’t afford
.. . . so I made up my mind I’d try that well and see if it would do the
trick for me. You see, I believed, so I figured it would work for
me—
"I went out there, threw in a penny, and said, "I
wish Mary was a beautiful woman with big tits, a great ass, and who likes
to fuck like a mink.’ I mean, even then, guys knew what they wanted—" He
winked, then continued. "Well, holy shit, imagine my surprise when I ran
into Mary that evening, and sure enough—she had a great body, these huge
titties, a lovely ass . . . one of the most beautiful women you ever laid
eyes on. And could she fuck . . . Like a mink, just as I’d wished!" Grandpa
had sat back, his mind returning to the past, and the story ended.
He’d told these stories a couple of more times,
although it didn’t seem as if anything ever came of other wishes . . .
"It’s like there’s only one wish per person," he’d told David later.. "So
you got to be careful."
In the last few days David had looked for the well.
He knew what town it was in, but his grandfather’s recollections of the
place didn’t correspond to the way things were now. It’s been over sixty
years since his grandfather had claimed to have made his wish, and David
wondered if the well was still around.
Something was drawing him towards the riverfront,
though. And instead of fighting the feeling, he went with it.
And found what he was searching for.
At one time it must have been a public well sitting
on the banks of the river. A jogging path ran nearby, and there was but
little growth between the path and the well. The way it was situated among
the trees, though, it was impossible to see unless you were looking for
it.
And that’s all it really was: a well. A wooden cover
which had seen better days sitting atop a brick and mortar tube sunk deep
into the ground. David looked inside and couldn’t see bottom, although
he could smell the mustiness which could only have been brought about by
decades of moisture and rot.
He knew the reason he was here; he wanted to share
in Gina’s dreams. Since his alter-ego, Darla, had been created, he found
himself fantasizing about "her" all the time. It wasn’t enough to pretend
he was her—he really wanted to be her. He wanted to see what being
Darla was really like.
He wanted to spend some time living as a real
woman.
And saw this as his only way of accomplishing that
goal.
He removed a nickel and, without hesitation, flipped
it into the well. There was a momentary pause, then a tiny splash
when it hit the water. David took a deep breath, then said, "I wish I could
become the sort of woman Gina dreams about, so I can see what it’s like
to really be Darla."
He closed his eyes.
Opened them.
Nothing.
Examining himself, it was obvious he was still David.
No long hair, no painted nails, no breasts—nothing. Just the same person
he had always been.
Well, he figured he had nothing to lose.
Except that nickel . . . .
He hadn’t told Gina about what he’d done. He figured
the more left unsaid, the better. After all, there was no point in making
a complete fool of himself.
Gina knew something might be up when David showed
no interest in sex that evening—not even when Gina suggested putting the
double-headed vibrating dildo in her vagina and ass while she sucked him
off, thus achieving triple penetration. Daivd’s response was that he wasn’t
feeling well, which Gina knew was bullshit. But she didn’t question his
mood: it did appear he had something on his mind, and whatever it
was probably account for his current disposition.
Putting everything on hold until the morning, Gina
drifted off to sleep—
Only to be awakened in the middle of the night.
The shaking didn’t snap her awake right away; she’d
been deep in dreamland, and her head was filled with the cotton that accompanies
such a rude shock to the system. And there was this voice . . .
David’s voice she would recognize. If he were telling her to wake up, Gina
knew she’d be awake instantly. But this? She thought for a moment she was
still in her dream, hearing that soft, pliant whisper . . . "Gina? Gina!
Wake up, honey!"
She rolled over. "Wha is . . . it?!?" Gina was instantly
awake—
When the girl kneeling in bed next to her—the naked
girl with the dark hair and the soft, baby face and the four huge
breasts put her hands on her hips and said, "Dear, I think we need to talk
.. . . ."
"So, you’re telling me that you made a wish, and
that I dreamed you?" Gina, dressed in sweat pants and an old sweat
shirt, sipped her coffee while waiting to hear once more the explanation
from the girl who used to be her husband.
David was also wearing a pair of sweat pants, but
neither of them had a shirt big enough to cover this mounds of flesh currently
attached to "her" chest. Darla—as he was starting to call himself—pulled
on one of David’s old robes in an attempt at a little self dignity.
"That’s pretty much it, Gina," she said once again.
"I had wished to become—uh—the ‘girl of her dreams,’ I guess." She shrugged.
"I guess I should have worded things a little differently."
"You think?"
Gina’s admonition wasn’t that stern, but Darla cringed
just the same. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . . I mean—"
"It’s okay, honey." And as far as Gina was concerned,
it really was. She wasn’t mad. For one, how could she be mad at something
that, by any rational explanation, shouldn’t have occurred? Wishes
weren’t the sort of thing that one expected to see come true. So how could
she have expected David—or now Darla—to have done something which had produced
the results sitting before her?
And there was this other thing . . . Gina didn’t
want—couldn’t admit it just yet—but David’s new look was really
turning her on.
First, Darla was about Gina’s height—maybe an inch
taller, but that was it. The dark hair she first noticed in the darkened
bedroom was a shock of raven-black hair as thick and long as her own. Darla
looked young—maybe late teens, early twenties at most. She was thin and
toned and had legs which looked long—all things Gina really liked in a
woman. Her fingernails were inch-long claws painted a bright red. Gina
didn’t know if she’d be very dexterous with those, but wondered if it really
mattered . . . .
Then once came her breasts, ass, and groin, and
Gina felt like she was in Heaven. Darla’s ass was perfect—smooth and round
and full without being huge. Her pussy was completely hairless, and a little
puffy; Gina figured Darla was probably feeling horny just sitting her speaking.
And what couldn’t be said about her breasts?
They were all bigger than Gina’s. Since David and her had decided on E
cups for "Darla" when they "put her together," Gina figured that’s what
the girl had. She hadn’t expected to see four of them draping her frame—but
then again, she couldn’t remember that much of her dream.
Darla’s nothing but tits from her neck to her
hips when she sits, she thought. She’s gonna have a few problems
moving around with all that weight—assuming we can find something for her
to wear. Although for now, naked is just fine.
"Well, D-Darla, are you happy you are a woman?"
Gina smiled slightly. All the times David had spoken about actually becoming
a girl—and all those times Gina was secretly wishing he was, because .
.. . a little girl-on-girl action was something that Gina had not only done
many times, but enjoyed a lot.
Darla touched herself—her breasts through
the terrycloth robe. She knew these breasts would be sensitive, but this
much? And her pussy . . . Gina had never told her about this constant urge
radiating from her groin . . . "I think I’ll—like it." She stood up, arching
her back. "But this weight . . . it’s going to take some getting used to.
And how am I going to get clothes?"
"We might have to get some made for you."
"But . . ." Darla didn’t want to say it, but felt
it was necessary. "I’m like a freak. You know? No one’s ever seen a girl
like me with four tits before—"
"It’s not important," Gina said, finishing her coffee.
"Hell, people will be so busy staring at you they won’t have time to worry
about you being a freak." She stood and stretched as well. "Damn. I need
to piss."
Gina didn’t think anything of it when Darla went
to her knees and removed Gina’s sweat pants. She didn’t think anything
was out of the ordinary when Darla slid her hands onto Gina’s ass and moved
her forward. She didn’t consider it strange when Darla leaned back, said,
"Ready, Miss Gina," and opened her mouth as she positioned herself under
Gina’s vagina. Gina didn’t even think twice when she relieved herself into
Darla’s mouth . . . .
It was only after Darla licked Gina’s clitoris and
vagina clear—giving her an orgasm in the process—and then stood that both
women stopped and stared at each other, a feeling of shocked confusion
passing between them. Darla put her hand to her mouth and gasped, "You
just pissed in my mouth!"
"I—know." Gina didn’t know what else to say.
"What . . . what else were you dreaming about,
Gina?"
Gina began getting impression of the dream she’d
been having. "I guess . . . I mean, I was dreaming . . . about how cool
it would be to have a girl around who was—you know. Submissive." She looked
at the horror in Darla’s eyes. "And how she might do certain things
for you. Like, you know . . . ."
"Piss in her mouth?"
"Yeah. I mean—well, that’s something that I’ve always
wanted to try."
"That’s fucking sick!"
Gina felt something come up from deep inside her.
It was just a feeling, that’s all, but it was something she felt
she should do— "Oh, you think so, Darla?" she asked, turning her voice
just this side of stern.
Darla snapped to as if she’d been slapped. Instantly—as
Gina has somehow knew—she became meek and quiet—and apologetic.
"I’m sorry, Miss Gina. I didn’t mean to snap at you."
"Really?"
"Yes. Of course." Then she looked up again. "Oh,
shit. I was just like—"
"A submissive little girl."
"Yeah."
She tried the voice again. "Yeah?"
"Yes, Miss Gina." Shock and recognition once more.
"Please don’t do that, dear!"
"Dear?" Gina straightened, feeling the fire come into
her eyes. I don’t know how long this will last, but I think I’m going
to like it . . . . "Don’t you mean, ‘Miss Gina’?"
By morning Gina had a pretty good idea what Darla
was capable of doing for her "Mistress."
After a few tongue lashing Darla fell right into
the submissive role, and just about did anything her "Miss Gina" requested.
David the Husband had become Darla the Naked Slave, and Gina loved it.
She watched in the morning as Darla prepared breakfast to Gina’s specifications
(wearing only an apron and high heels—the last because "It was only natural."),
then serving her and standing off to one side as "Mistress" ate. Darla
only ate after she was given permission.
Then she rushed Gina to the tub and bathed her,
brushed her teeth, combed her hair—styled it actually; Darla spent nearly
twenty minutes getting it right—and then asked if Gina would like a manicure
and pedicure. Since it was Sunday Gina thought, "What the hell?" and spent
the next hour having her nails buffed and polished. This was followed by
Darla shaving Gina’s armpits and trimming her pubic hair until the later
was but a small strip of hair barely covering her vagina.
"There!" Darla snapped off the razor and examined
her work, obviously satisfied. "Now, would Miss Gina care to have her pussy
eaten?"
Of course Gina said yes. With that it was back to
the bedroom—and time stood still as Gina discovered that, of all the things
David had become, turning into an extremely skilled lover had to
be right at the top. Gina came like she’d never came before. Darla used
fingers, hands, toes, lips, tongue, teeth, nipples, even her eyelashes,
to stimulate "Miss Gina" and induce some of the most intense orgasms she’d
ever experienced.
And the girl wouldn’t stop.
Gina glanced at the clock on the bed stand after
coming six times in rapid-fire succession, and noticed they’d—well,
Darla—had been going at it for almost two hours. "Stop, stop!" she gasped.
With that Darla sat up, Gina’s juices all over her face and breasts.
"How long were you intending on going?" Gina asked,
almost out of breath. "Until I died?"
"No, Miss Gina," Darla replied softly. "Only until
you command me to stop. It is my understanding that once we begin making
love, I am to continue until you indicate otherwise."
"So, if I had passed out, you’d just keep going?"
"Yes, Miss Gina."
"Damn."
"Is this wrong?"
Oh, not at all. Everyone should have a love slave
.. . . She moved slowly out of bed, her legs weak and soft. "No, Darla.
You just keep doing what you do best," she said. A sudden thought came
to Gina. "Is there anything you require?"
Darla seemed to deflate upon herself, saying, "Yes,
Miss Gina. I require a good fucking."
Having just spent the better part of the last four
or five hours being waited on, pampered, and fucked like there was no tomorrow,
Gina felt the least she could do was let Darla have a few orgasms of her
own. She patted the bed. "Lie down. Please. I’ll help you out there."
Darla hesitated for just a moment, then said, "Miss
Gina, are you certain you wish to sully yourself? After all, this would
be you making love to me?"
Gina thought about that master/slave relationship—the
game David and she had played a few times in the past—and didn’t know if
what she was doing would be considered proper in some circle. Then
again, I’m not a full time mistress—even if Darla thinks so. Fuck
it. She sat on the bed, pulling Darla down next to her. "Trust me,
Darla. I don’t think I’m sullying myself—"
With that she leaned over and kissed Darla’s full,
tender lips.
Gina had kissed women before, so it wasn’t that
big of a deal. The way Darla responded, though . . . as Darla’s lips touched
Gina’s like the sort flutter of butterfly wings, and her small, moist tongue
darted out seeking contact, Gina fought hard to remember that this was
really her husband made—perfect?—by nothing more than a wish and a dream.
He might be this totally hot sex slave now, Gina thought, but
he still loves me—and will probably respond a lot more fully that if Darla
was just some girl I trained . . . .
Gina moved from Darla’s lips to her breasts. She
couldn’t believe how large the girl’s nipples were—each was as big, or
bigger, than her thumb. She ran her tongue across the left nipple, and
Darla arched her back and moaned loudly—so much so that Gina thought the
neighbors might hear them. Man, she’s gonna be a screamer, Gina
thought as she inserted her middle finger into Darla’s tight, wet pussy.
As her thumb began caressing the girl’s clitoris, Darla’s eyes went out
of focus, her mouth forming a large, silent "O" of anticipation . . . .
Darla’s hips bucked as she moaned, "Oh . . . oh,
god—oh God—Yes, YES, YES!!!!!" The last scream was so loud Gina
thought the windows would shatter. She felt Darla’s pussy clamp down around
her finger, then release explosively—as her hand was suddenly coated with
something wet and sticky—
Gina’s hand was covered with juice that she believed
must have come from Darla’s pussy. "My God . . ." She’d never seen
anything like this before. "Did this come out of you?" she asked the now
very excited Darla, who looked as if she would begin begging for another
orgasm any moment now.
"Y-yes." Her reply was so soft Gina almost didn’t
catch it. "I have what you call a ‘squirting orgasm’, Miss Gina. Every
time I cum this happens."
"But, how . . ?"
"I don’t know, Miss Gina." She smiled when she saw
the look on her mistress’ face. "I only know that my body responds this
way." She touched Gina lightly on the cheek. "It must have been something
in your dream which made me this way." She squirmed as Gina began fingering
her once more, gasping, "Just what were you dreaming about, Miss
Gina?"
Gina dragged her ass to work that Monday morning, her
vagina sore from rubbing and cuming. Sunday had been a blur; after she’d
made Darla cum then Darla made her cum again, and this in turn made
her want to make Darla cum . . . and so forth and so on . . . .
By they time Gina flopped down on the bed an exhausted,
sweaty mess, it was going on 11 PM. They’d been at it since early—very
early—in the morning, and if it hadn’t been for Gina simply being unable
to go on, she fervently believed that Darla would have continued without
ever stopping.
There had only been three pauses in their activity.
One time had been when Gina needed to get something to eat. And the other
two had involved Gina needing to piss—but, as she’d already discovered,
she didn’t need to leave the bed for that.
Gina had crawled out of bed, and found Darla there
to get her ready, performing a shortened version of the pampering Gina
had received the day before. She even dressed Gina for work, and gave her
a kiss goodbye as she left for the office—
Which was where Gina was doing some hard thinking.
On one hand, David didn’t exist anymore. Gina didn’t
know if him being Darla was a temporary thing, or if he would eventually
change back—or if something else would happen. What Gina did know
is that she had to call off for him this morning, and she didn’t know how
long she was going to be able to keep doing that. Eventually she’d have
to explain how it was that David just didn’t exist anymore. Or maybe—he
just ran off. That’s it. He ran off with some bimbo.
Then there was the money he bought in. While Gina
made nearly as much as he had, a 50 percent or so cut in their income was
going to be a kick in the ass, considering their lifestyle. She could always
get rid of David’s car after he turned up "missing", but that would only
be a stopgap measure. Ditching his wheels might grab her a couple of grand,
and that would be gone after a month. David did have $500,000 in insurance,
but if he went missing it would be seven years before he could be declared
dead—which was seven years before she could get her hands on the money.
On the other hand . . . she had Darla. She might
be a hot little submissive four-breasted piss-drinking pussy-juice-squirting
fuck machine, but she was Gina’s, and though she was loath to admit
it, she got off on the idea of being her Mistress. It was a power trip
she was getting used to fast. And it wasn’t as if Darla was complaining;
after getting "conditioned" right the first morning, Darla was more than
happy to do all the things she did—and love it. "I know that I am but an
realization of your dream," she’d told her this morning, "but as David
I had wanted to be the ‘girl of your dream’—and that is what I have
become. Always remember I follow your commands because I want to—and because
I love you, Miss Gina."
There was also a third part to this play, and that
was Gina was seeing a side of herself that she hadn’t know existed. Sure,
in the past she’d done a little bisexual play with David and another girl,
but she hadn’t realized she’d dream about something like—well, what
was happening with Darla. She’d never thought it possible that she would
want someone like Darla—or that she would be so comfortable dominating
the little bitch.
This morning before she left Gina asked, "What are
your limits?" and Darla shot back, "What are your limits, Miss Gina?"
Without missing a beat she said she’d like to see Darla in a pair of her
nylons and heels, with her butt plugged and her nipples clamped, and that
she spend the day masturbating. Darla returned wearing black nylons and
heels, and handed the plug and clamps to Gina before turning around and
bending over, spreading her ass cheeks apart. Gina didn’t even think about
what she was going to do: she put in the plug and tightened down the nipple
clamps until Darla’s sharp inhale told her they were tight enough.
She figured Darla was in bed right now, fingering
away and moaning like a banshee.
And she was getting wet just thinking about it—
"Hey, lady: snap out of it."
Gina realized she wasn’t alone. Joan, the woman’s
who’s Halloween party—in a strange sort of way—had brought Gina’s current
situation about, was standing next to her. "What, you lost in some sort
of fantasy?" Joan was a close friend whom Gina had "played with", and therefor
knew some of the things which "drove" her."
"You might say that," she hummed.
"I was just wondering; when are you and David going
to ‘play naughty’ again?" She chuckled. "That last time when you and I
played ‘Lesbo Hookers’ and tied him up and wouldn’t have sex with him—"
"Yeah, that was a lot of fun." Gina remembered he’d
gotten so horny that he’s actually shot his wad watching Joan and her finger
fuck. "I don’t know. David hasn’t—um, been himself lately."
"Marital problems?"
"No." Gina shook her head. "He just seems different."
"Well, if you ever want—"
"Hey, uh, would you—" Gina didn’t know how to broach
the subject, but figured, fuck it, go for it. "I have a friend—Darla—and,
ah—"
"You have a girl who’s your lover, right?" Joan
was very good on picking up on these things, evidently.
"Yes. Slave is more like it, though . . ."
Now it was Gina’s turn to chuckle. "How would you and a few friends like
to play with her?"
After Gina informed Darla that she was going to be
the "entertainment" for a party Saturday night, it was decided they needed
to get her something to wear, and to do that they would need to go out.
Gina found a pair of pants and a very baggy sweat shirt that Darla could
wear until they found something for her. She figured that people would
stare at them, but what the hell? As long as they didn’t walk over and
lift up the girl’s shirt, she figured they’d be fine.
First on the list was underwear. Finding an E cup
bra was difficult; finding one that was strapless was almost impossible.
Eventually they found what they were looking for, but this took the better
part of two hours of hunting. Then there were panties and stockings and
nylons . . . another hour.
Gina thought that the would be no way they would
find a dress that would fit Darla, but she figured they could get some
pull over or button up tops that would cover her pretty well, and complement
that with skirts and pants. Getting a top hadn’t been as difficult as Gina
thought; they only had to find what they were looking for in an oversized
version. They found three and moved on.
Darla wanted a pair of leather pants, and Gina agreed
that she’d look hot in a very tight pair. They also found a black leather
skirt that was very nice as well . . . Darla also found a pleated tweet
skirt which she said "made her look like a school girl," something which
set off alarms inside Gina’s head instantly. They bought a couple of other
things, and then it was on to shoes.
Gina knew her dream must have dug deep into
something within her mind, cause whatever she’d dreamt that night had turned
Darla into a high heel freak. She wouldn’t settle for anything with less
than a three inch heel. Or if it was less, it had to have at least a three
inch platform. And the higher, the better. "Don’t you believe it makes
me look that much more sexy, Miss Gina?" Darla had asked as she strutted
around in a pair of shoes which hurt Gina’s ankles just looking at them.
But seeing Darla in them also made her nipples stand up . . . .
The night of the party Darla dressed in a white
button up top, the pleated skirt, white over-the-knee stockings, and a
pair of high heeled Mary Janes. Gina was so turned on by Darla that she
almost didn’t notice . . . "Darla, have your breasts gotten bigger?"
Darla looked down. It was obvious that her E cups
were on the verge of spilling out of her bras. "I don’t believe so, Miss
Gina," she replied after touching herself. "It could just be that I’m retaining
water and they appear bigger."
"Could be." Gina didn’t care, at least not now.
Arriving at Joan’s, Gina almost laughed out loud
when their hostess saw Darla for the first time. The look on her face was
priceless . . . "Are those breasts real?" she stammered.
Darla unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it back to
expose herself. "I assure you, mam—"
"You may call her Joan," Gina prompted.
"Of course, Miss Gina. Joan, my breasts are real.
If you would like, I’ll remove my bra so you may feel them."
Joan certainly did, and moments latter she was cupping
all four of Darla’s majestic mounds. "How the—"
"I can’t really say," Gina replied. "You have to
admit, though, that she’s very fine."
"Indeed." Joan stepped away and forced her arms
to her side. Gina noticed right away the girl was breathing heavy, her
nostrils flaring with arousal. Gina pulled her aside and said, "Darla is
very good when it come to dispensing pleasure. Would you like to find out
first hand?"
Joan didn’t need to be asked twice. "Yes."
"When will people start arriving?"
"In about twenty minutes."
"Would you mind . . . I’d like to watch Darla eat
you. Could she do you on the dinning room table?"
Joan had always loved Gina’s kinky streak, and thought
getting "laid out" in the dinning room would be a great experience. She
removed her clothing and spread out on the table.
After Gina ordered Darla to remove her underpants
she told her, "I want you to perform oral sex on Joan." She knew Darla
would not only comply with her order, but that she’d keep it up until she
was told to quit.
"Of course, Miss Gina."
"I also want you to stand bent over so that other
who will be arriving may have access to your vagina. Do you understand?"
"Of course, Miss Gina." Darla nodded, then bent
over at the waist, her legs planted a little apart. She instantly went
to work on Joan, who began moaning in delight as Darla stimulated her.
When the few guest invited started showing up, they
were treated to the sight of Joan—her wrist and ankles now fastened to
the legs of the table—groaning non stop as this girl with four huge tits
sucked her pussy like a maniac. Gina was videotaping the show, and was
acting as hostess now that Joan was—preoccupied.
The guest consisted of three couples as well three
guys and four women who were currently unattached. After ten minutes of
everyone watching Darla going down on Joan, it was only natural that people
were wanting to know—"
"Is this a private thing?" one guy asked Gina, "Or
can anyone just—jump in?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well . . . I’d love to fuck that girl." He indicated
Darla.
Gina motioned him foreword with her head. "Go ahead.
She won’t mind. In fact, she’s expecting it."
The guy wasted no time in getting undressed and
positioning himself behind Darla. He slipped himself inside and began pumping
away. "Christ," he hissed between clenched teeth. "This bitch’s cunt is
like . . . a glove. D-damn." Darla didn’t stop licking Joan as she moved
her hips to match the rhythm which the man had started. Gina started to
play with her breasts as Darla orgasmed, screaming as she always did. Gina
could see her lover’s juices coating the man’s thighs, and she felt her
own vagina tighten.
As he reached his own orgasm, the man rammed himself
deep into Darla, groaned, and slapped her ass as he shot his load. "God—Damn,"
he yelled as he pulled out. Most of his groin was soaked in sexual emissions.
"Shit! What a fuckin’ ride."
That was all the prodding anyone needed to try out
the new girl.
The next guy didn’t seem to mind sloppy seconds,
and spent ten minutes humping like a rabbit, shooting his load all over
Darla’s ass and back without her seeming to mind. One of the guys who came
attached asked if he could fuck the "toy" in the ass; Gina didn’t see it
as a problem, and told him to go ahead. Disregarding lubrication her entered
her and drew a small but sharp squeak from Darla—the only indication that
she might be in some pain. This didn’t stop the guy from going at her full
tilt. He yelped in surprise when Darla came, spraying him with her juice,
which only seemed to make him pump harder than before . . . .
His wife—named Helen, someone Gina barley knew but
whom Joan had said loved playing the bisexual tramp—crawled under
Darla and began sucking at her breasts. She let out a little yelp of her
own: "Gina, your girl here is lactating."
"Huh?" Gina knew that couldn’t be possible. "Are
you sure?"
"I can taste it . . ." She put her lips to a thick
nipple and suckled. "But this—isn’t milk. It’s much . . . sweeter." She
smacked her lips. "Delicious, actually." She sucked on her breast once
more—
Then leaned back and moaned.
Helen’s hands instantly went to her breasts, still
concealed by her red velvet pullover. "Oh, God, oh, fuck," she moaned as
she lay on the floor, her hand pulling at her nipples, her legs moving
slowly, as if she were trying to back away from something. Gina and everyone
else not involved in sex watched in amazement as something began
to push out Helen’s top all along her abdomen—something that Gina thought
looked suspiciously like other sets of breasts.
She pulled up her top, and sure enough, two—no,
three sets of breasts were growing, filling out Helen’s torso from
the bottom of her "original" pair to her groin. The bottom most pair were
pushing against the waistband of her pants, and, with some difficulty,
she unbuttoned them, relieving the pressure as she issued a loud sigh
before touching the C cups which had spouted all over her chest and belly.
"Ah . . . oh, oh . . ." Helen seemed enthralled
with her new trappings. Another couple went to her; the woman removed Helen’s
top and bra—Gina could see that the woman had been only a B cup before
transforming; her "natural" breasts were slightly larger than the bra containing
them—while the man slid Helen’s shoes and pants off. Soon clad in only
a pair of white socks, Helen’s hands ran over her breasts—joined by the
hands of the other couple, who were in the process of disrobing. Helen’s
husband grunted as he orgasmed, while at the same time his wife was in
the process of being penetrated and licked . . . .
Another man and woman—both who had come unaccompanied—were
now lying naked beneath Darla, playing with each other and Darla’s breasts.
As the woman began rubbing his balls, she moved one of Darla’s nipples
towards his mouth. He began sucking—obviously they both wanted to see what
would happen. After fifteen seconds he stopped and uttered a low moan,
then had the nipple forced back into his mouth, which he began sucking
at a quicker pace.
As with Helen the man suddenly stopped sucking,
a glazed look in his eyes. Then the transformation hit; if Gina hadn’t
been watching through the video recorder she’d have missed it, so swiftly
did it occur.
One moment he was a well-built man having his erection
fondled by a beautiful woman. The next, she held nothing, for the man he’d
been disappeared, replaced by a young, white-haired woman perfect in every
way—except she had no breasts. To Gina it looked as if a picture of him
had been run through one of those morphing programs; his features just
seemed to flow and change. His face went from hard and angular to smooth
and round in the blink of an eye. His penis had seem to retract into the
open cavity which was now his vagina. This white-blond hair shot out of
his head like a party streamer.
And her breasts . . . .
First her nipples appeared. Then the mounds of flesh
upon which they would ride began to swell. And fast. In two seconds
she was an A cup; two more and she was a C cup. After ten seconds she had
reached the E cups Darla possessed—and didn’t seem to be slowing down.
She leaned back and braced herself, her breasts now looking like over-inflated
basketballs. But her face showed no horror or fear—if anything, Gina could
see she was getting off on the feeling of first turning into a woman,
then experiencing an explosive "growth spurt."
When they reached the size of beach balls they stopped
growing—making her chest appear to be nothing more than a set of tits from
her waist to her neck. The woman with her leaned over and ran her tongue
across the top of one of her enormous nipples, and was rewarded with a
long, loud, pleasurable moan.
Without hesitation the woman grabbed the same nipple
that her "girlfriend" had been using and started sucking.
Unlike her new playmate, she stopped after a few
moments—much as Helen had. She clutched her stomach and stood up; Gina
thought she might be sick, but instead she straightened and began her own
transformation.
Hers wasn’t as extreme: her breasts swelled slightly,
but they seemed fuller due to the third breasts which popped into existence
between the ones with which she’d been born. Two small bumps appeared on
her sides just below her arms. With growth as explosive as the other woman’s
breasts new arms appeared, seeming fully functional after but a few seconds.
While she grabbed her breasts with two hands, the
other two moved to her groin, where a large, erect penis emerged. She turned
to face Gina, gripping a member most men would be envious of: eighteen
inches at least, and a couple of inches thick. A set of testicles hung
between her legs; it looked as if she had a couple of baseballs hanging
from her crotch. Gina searched for her vagina and noticed it no long existed;
rather than a hermaphrodite, the woman had instead become a freakish "chick
with a dick."
Her playmate—the man turned into a set of breasts
with a body—moved over next to the woman. "Move" was something of a misnomer;
"crawl" was more like it, since the girl’s breasts—sticking out a couple
of feet or more from her body, her chin almost in her cleavage—made even
a slow walk a chore. She had to turn to the side to grip her friend’s dick,
which caused a shudder to run through her body. "Lay down and let me mount
you," she told her. It took some doing, but after a minute or two they
were on the floor—Miss Big Tits on top of her friend, riding that massive
cock for all it was worth, while Miss Four Arms held their breasts together
with one set of hands while grabbing her friend’s ass and pulling her in
tighter with the other.
Gina watched in amazement at the changes which occurred.
Anyone drinking from Darla’s breasts underwent a transformation of sorts.
Helen’s breasts were sucked and caressed by a woman who’d grew five breasts,
which then formed mouths where her nipples should be. Helen’s husband drank
from Darla’s nipples and watched as his genitals disappeared, followed
by his legs fusing together to form a gigantic penis at least seven feet
in length. Several of the woman began to lick the head of this monster
dick—no one possessed a mouth large enough to suck it—and were rewarded
with a garden hose-powered shower of cum. Two women, drinking at the same
time, each grew six breasts in two rows of three and six arms—then gasped
with a mixture of pleasure and horror as their clitorises lengthened and
fused, conjoining so they were face-to-face, their breasts mashed together.
Gina was fascinated with what she saw, watching
as the room turned into a transformed-only swinger’s orgy. The only ones
who seemed to be out of the picture were herself, Darla—and Joan, who was
still being stimulated by Darla. By now, a couple of hours after the fun
had begun, Joan had come so much she was beyond moaning and screaming,
and simply lay upon the table, a spent, moist pile of flesh enjoying her
orgasms. Although Gina has been masturbating, and had even had a couple
of people come up and make out with her . . . .
But there was something she wanted to see. Gina
tapped Darla on the shoulder. "You can stop now," she said.
Darla stood slowly, her hands rubbing her lower
back. "Did I do good, Miss Gina?" she asked.
"You did fantastic." Joan let loose with a low moan,
writhing on the table as feeling started to return to her numb pussy. Gina
touched Darla’s breasts. "Do you know you have some fluid in your breasts?"
"Yes, Miss Gina. I feel it there."
"Look around." They both turned to look at everyone
in their transformed shapes. "Did you know it would do this if it was drank?"
Darla nodded. "Of course, Miss Gina."
"How?"
"I realized when people first started drinking from
me that this would happen." Darla smiled. "Of course, it’s because of you
that this has happened."
"What?"
"You must have dreamed this last night," Darla told
her. She smiled again, Joan’s juices drying on her face. "When I made my
original wish, I said that I wanted to be the girl of your dreams. I didn’t
take into consideration that you might have more than one ‘dream girl’.."
She leaned in close and kissed her on the cheek. "Your subconscious must
have wanted this to happen. I am but the vessel of your dream and desires.."
Shit. Gina didn’t realize it until now,
but Darla must be right. I wanted a very very submissive girl, and I
got her, she thought. I probably wanted a girl with more than a
set of breasts . . . and now? I wanted her to be able to transform people
.. . . .
What am I going to dream up next?
Gina looked around the room. "How will they change
back?"
"The transformation isn’t permanent," Darla told
her. "At least not for most people." She pointed to the woman with the
huge breasts who’d come to the party as a man. "She drank too much, and
therefore will remain as she is for the rest of her life." Gina winced,
thinking about all that weight she would have to carry around. "The other
only sipped some of my nectar, and they will change back given time."
"How much?"
"Three, four hours more."
"You know this?"
"Yes."
Gina was puzzled. "How do they know what to transform
into?"
Darla shrugged. "It just happens."
Gina looked over to Joan, who was now started to
struggle just a little. "Come over here," she told Darla, who obeyed without
a word.
Joan tried to lift her head, but she was spent;
it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. "What’s going on?" she asked
softly.
"The Transformer’s Ball," Gina told her, a smirk
on her face.
"What?"
"Nothing." She motioned Darla forward, telling Joan,
"You know, honey, there’s something I’d like to see you in—"
She forced one of Darla’s nipples into Joan’s mouth,
and held her head as she tried to extract liquid from Darla’s breast. She
didn’t resist, suckling while her eyes probed Gina’s looking for a hint
as to why she was doing this.
She stopped after a few seconds, her eyes growing
wide. There was a sudden, "Oh!", then a loud crack! as Joan’s head
popped upward out of the top of her shoulders on what looked like an extension
identical to her "old" shoulders and upper torso. Arms emerged from this
extension as a second set of breasts formed as well. In less than ten seconds
the hands of Joan’s "upper" torso were feeling about while her lower set
of hands struggled against the bound which held them in place.
Joan started to say something to Gina when there
was another crack! A second extension formed, identical to the first.
Her head fell backwards off the table, her segmented torso hanging in mid-air,
arms flailing as she tried to find some purchase. Gina could see something
in Joan’s eyes, and wondered if the transformation was hurting.
Joan’s breasts—all six—began to split down the middle
and divide like an amoebae. As before, this transformation went quickly;
in less than thirty seconds Joan had twelve breasts covering her newly
expanded chest. Gina untied the girl, and once free Joan slid to the floor
and knelt, her six hands gliding over her D cup-sized tits, her torso swaying
as she learned to stabilize herself. Gina thought she looked a little like
a giraffe, only with one torso stacked on top of another instead of having
just a very long neck—
But the transformation wasn’t complete. Joan moan
loudly as she tried to touch her stomach with all six hands, four being
the best she could do.
Her belly began inflating. To Gina it looked like
someone has stuffed an air hose inside her uterus and began pumping in
air. This proceeded slower than the other changes. After twenty seconds
she looked like she was five months pregnant; after a minute a full nine
months. But she wasn’t stopping there. Joan was masturbating as well as
she could as her gravid form shot past nine months full into something
Gina had only seen in photomorphs. Her lower hands were being pushed away
from her vagina by her fullness, and when she looked like she might have
a two year old inside her belly she found it difficult to play with herself
and gave up. Joan lay back and used her lower and middle hands to massage
her ever growing stomach, moaning loudly all the while.
Joan’s breasts were inflating as well. Slowly she
pushed past D into DD, and by the time her belly looked like she’d swallowed
a large beach ball her tits were pushing into F cup territory. Joan was
not only finding her belly in the way, but her arms were going through
contortions trying to move around her expended tits, which were now all
Gina could see of her extended torso.
After a three or four minutes Joan’s transformation
had run it’s course. Gina stood in fascination at what Joan had become.
Her belly looked to be two and a half to three feet across, her belly button
turned inside out and standing up like one of her now-huge nipples. All
twelve of her breasts looked like F or FF cups, and they and Joan’s belly
were fighting for space on her body. Gina could just make out her vagina,
almost lost beneath the mass of her stomach. Now she knew why Joan was
moaning; her pussy was as swollen and distended as the rest of her. Her
labia major puffy and dark red; her labia minor was hanging out in bright
pink folds; and her clitoris, crammed against the bottom of her belly,
was a couple of inches across and visibly throbbing.
Joan tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Gina knelt down
next to her. "How you feeling?"
"I . . . I’m cumming—" Joan closed her eyes and
shuttered. "God, what happe—happened to me?"
"I think . . . I turned you into a freak." She shrugged.
"Or a fantasy of mine. I haven’t figured that out yet."
"Oooooohhhhh." Joan seemed to be having an orgasm
every fifteen seconds. "How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long will I be like this?"
Gina thought for a moment—just a moment. Then told
her: "Depends . . . on how much you please me from here on out."
When Joan looked at her quizzically, she continued.
"I like you, Joan. But, you know—I’m starting to enjoy this Master/slave
thing, and I just realized you would make a perfect addition to
my little stable . . . so it’s like this: swear your submissive fealty
to me for the rest of your life—or I have Darla force more of her breast
juice into your mouth, and you stay like this for the rest of your
life." She paused for effect. "And it’ll be?"
Gina touched one of Joan’s oversized nipples and
squeezed oh, so gently, causing another orgasm to rip through Joan’s
body. Gina started counting down from 10; if she reached zero Joan was
going to find herself cumming in this bloated body for a very long time
.. . . .
She had just reached "4" when Joan said, "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes . . . Mistress."
"Good." She stood up. "From now on your place will
be used for parties like this—maybe every other week or so—"
"Yes, Mistress."
"At work you will refer to me as Gina; all other
times I am ‘Mistress’. I won’t make you do anything at work other than
to get me supplies, lunch, kiss my ass, that sort of stuff . . . but if
we’re out in public, and I order you to lick my shoes, you’ll do it. Understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"I will transform you whenever I please. If you
displease me, I’ll transform you into a very unusual form and leave
you that way." And I know I can do it, ‘cause I thought up your
current form when you drank from Darla’s breast.
"Yes, Mistress."
"No more men for you . . ." She saw a quick look
of surprise in Joan’s eyes but figured, fuck it, I’ve got her where
I want her . . . "From this point on you are responsible for seeing
to Darla’s sexual well being. You are to become her lover, and you will
only have sex with her unless I otherwise indicate. If any man should ask
you out, you are to tell them you are a lesbian and that you are in a permanent
relationship with another woman."
"Yes . . . Mistress."
"Oh, and you will refer to her as ‘Miss Darla’ at
all times, and do whatever she tells you to do. Otherwise—"
"I understand, Mistress."
"Good." Gina started to walk away, then tossed over
her shoulder, "You’ll change back in a few hours. I’ll send someone over
to eat you out."
"Thank you, Mistress."
Gina couldn’t believe how she felt. It was as if
this power had taken hold of her, and now . . . now there wasn’t
anything she couldn’t do. She looked around at all the people who’d been
changed, and knew—knew—that something deep down within her mind
had effected their transformations when they’d tasted the liquid in Darla’s
breasts.
And she was the focus. She had forced each one
to happen.
She eyed Darla, who watched her with obvious love
in her eyes. Submissive, yes. But she does love me . . . She knew
that her—David’s—wish has changed her, but in a way it had also changed
her. And now . . . now her dreams had become real; her fantasies
and ambitions were no long to reside in the realm of her mind.
With Darla, she could make them real.
She motioned Darla over. "Can you drink from your
breast?" she asked.
Darla maneuvered one of her upper nipples to within
centimeters of her mouth. "Yes, Miss Gina. It is possible."
"I want you to drink—transform. Nothing permanent
.. . . ."
Darla didn’t bother to reply. She put the nipple
in her mouth and sucked long enough to ensure a transformation would occur.
Gina saw the girl’s skin begin to ripple and flow
.. . . .
Is this going . . . to happen?
Darla stepped towards Gina—and then it was if she
turned into a liquid and covered Gina. Her body lost substance, became
completely discorporate as she flowed over Gina’s body and began adhering
to her skin.
Gina went into sensory overload; it was as if every
millimeter of her body was being caressed and touched at the same time.
She could feel Darla on her neck, her breasts, her nipples, her stomach,
waist, hips, legs . . . she could feel her running through her hair, pulling
it back and up . . . gently slipping five inch heels onto her feel, kissing
them, raising her up . . . running down her arms, enfolding her hands and
fingers . . . slipping into her vagina, flowing up her cervical
canal, massaging her clitoris and G-spot, pushing past her cervix into
her uterus, coating her insides . . . while also tickling her anus, passing
up through her, pushing the waste away as she cleansed her insides—
Though the transformation seemed to go on for a
long time, Gina knew it lasted not much longer than a few minutes. But
those minutes—she knew she’d cum more times than she could count. As she’d
transformed Darla—and in turn, herself—she’d imagined Darla satisfying
her as no woman could ever be satisfied. Gina would have staggered under
the impact of her orgasms had not Darla been holding her in place.
Gina spotted herself reflected in the TV. She knew
what she would see; Gina was encased in the red latex suit which she had
turned Darla into. The suit was seamless; once in, there was no getting
out. The only flesh which showed was Gina’s face, and the suit sealed so
tightly that it was impossible to pull it away. Gina’s long hair was fastened
in a ponytail which emerged from a hole on top of the hood. She gazed at
the outlines of her legs, calves and thighs shapely in the heels which
had also been created.
But the suit was alive; it was Darla, who
was stimulating every portion of Gina’s body she could access. To Gina
it felt as if she was bound in a warm oil; she was closer to this woman
than anyone could ever be. And Darla was very meticulous; Gina was brought
to orgasm by her "love suit" in the matter of seconds she had just spent
admiring herself.
What Gina loved best were her new "additions." Darla’s
breasts now rode below hers, and Darla’s arms formed a second set which
Gina could now use. She didn’t question how it was she could feel six
sets of nipples being kissed and touched, nor how she could "use" a set
of arms that hadn’t belonged to her . . . I’m wearing a suit that was
once a woman who’d once been a man, she thought. It’s magic. Like
it needs to be explained?
She spotted a man who at some point had sampled
Darla’s breasts and had underwent his own transformation. His upper body
was hugely muscular, as were his legs, but his most impressive feature
were his two huge cocks, arranged in an over/under configuration. Each
cock was maybe eighteen inches in length, and he seemed to be able to remain
erect constantly—perhaps due to all the cum he was producing with the four
grapefruit-sized testicles which hung to his knees.
She motioned him over. "You see that woman?" she
asked, indicating Joan.
"Yes." He sounded a little on the dull side. Having
a lukewarm IQ more than offset the physical beauty he now possessed, Gina
reasoned.
"Help her into the bedroom, and fuck her until she
passes out or your both change back, which ever comes first. One cock in
her pussy, one in her ass. You understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes, ‘Mistress Gina’."
"Yes, Mistress Gina."
He began to walk away. "Wait." He turned. "How many
times can you cum?"
"All night—all day, Mistress Gina."
"Good." She waved him away with a flick of her hand.
Gina scanned the room. The woman with the huge breasts
was tit fucking Helen’s husband, The Dick Man; she was already coated
in his semen, and seemed to be enjoying every second of her new life. Gina
figured she would take her home, since she’d probably freak when she discovered
she would never be a man again . . . Helen and the woman with the mouths
on her breasts had been joined by someone who’d turned into a cat girl,
complete with blue fur, a tail, and hind paws. She was licking Helen’s
cunt like she was lapping milk. The women conjoined at their clitorises
were being fucked hard by a man who’s arms had transformed into penises,
his huge balls hanging from sacks which has once been his ass.
Gina found the woman she was looking for; the girl
with the three breasts, four arms, and the huge penis. The girl approached
breathing hard, having obviously having just fucked someone.
"Do you know who I am?" Gina asked.
The girl smiled. "You’re the one who started all
this insanity."
"Yes. You like your new form?"
She touched her breasts and balls at the same time.
"This is lovely . . . the best of both worlds."
"Don’t you believe people would think you a freak?"
"I don’t care," the girl said, then began stroking
her dick. "I love this. Thank you."
"Address me as ‘Mistress’ if you wish to curry favor
with me." Gina’s voice was stern, yet soft.
The girl didn’t even miss a beat. "Of course, Mistress."
"I want you to fuck me," Gina told her. "Around
The World, if you’re up for it—"
"I can do that and more, Mistress."
"Good. If I enjoy the pleasure you give me, I’ll
see about making your fantasy a reality—forever. If not . . ." She gave
the girl a hard eye. "I’ll turn you into a mannequin for my clothing."
Gina directed the girl towards the table. "I’ll
fuck you as you’ve never been fucked before," she promised.
"I must remind you that my pussy and asshole are
coated in latex."
"Then I’ll remember to lick you so you are lubricated,"
the girl replied.
Gina lay on the table, her heels digging into the
girl’s shoulders as she began to tongue the latex opening which was Gina’s
pussy. Gina came, and was in heaven—but not from the girl’s oral sex, nor
Darla’s constant massaging . . . but from what she had become. David’s
wish had changed her, and for the better. For with this new power she felt,
Gina knew she could do things she had never attempted before; that she
would control the destiny of others; that eventually, she could whip
people into shape, mold them to a vision she was started to develop—
She knew she would love being Mistress to many
people.
And as far as transforming people.
No problem.
All she had to do was sleep on it.
The End