Monday, November 7, 2016

Changes & Transformations




"Go back? And why would I want to do that?", Za'rek mocked his companions, "Back to being that skinny little nerd Ryan? Back to being a nobody? No. This isn't our D&D game anymore! That spellbook made this world as real as our old one, and I choose -this- reality. Let it be known, I am now and forever Za'rek, God of the Battlefield!", his roaring declaration was more than enough to intimidate.

Riyalah loved watching him put the lesser men in their place. His passion and confidence made her body tingle with desire. She wouldn't have been upset had Za'rek wanted to take her right then and there in front of them. She loved being draped over his lap, but what she truly craved was to rub herself up and down the well-toned body beneath her. 'All good things in time', she sighed internally.

Za'rek continued his rant, "Don't think you’re taking Brian back -either-; I enjoy him lot a more as this little whore. I used that spell to turn him into my bitch for a reason. She’s payment for all the -shit- he did to me as DM. I doubt there's even much of him left in her anyway.", he smiled, brimming with confidence, "Know this: tonight I'm going to -fuck- any of the remaining bits out, tomorrow I'll make her my wife, and then, one day, my many children will be born from her supple loins." he paused for a moment, staring the other three men down, "And the best part? There's -nothing- any of you can do to stop me."

Riyalah turned to look at her man just in time to watch his strong hand slip between her shapely thighs. His branwy grip on her smooth, empty groin sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through her stomach and legs. Holding her there tightly, claiming his territory, Za'rek spoke one last time, "So, I’m gonna stay here and enjoy Brian’s new pussy...-You- go back."

Riyalah could only nod in agreement. She simply -couldn’t wait- to be alone with her lover.

Saturday, November 5, 2016

The Big Break




“You’re not men…Every man that works here is a PUSSY!”, Ian screamed as he stormed out of the local news station’s control room. The constant gossip and pettiness behind the scenes had finally gotten to him. He was more than ready to be done with it, but he had no idea that the end of this job would be the catalyst of something much more amazing. The aftermath of his heated departure previewed what was to come.

It had been early in the day when Ian experienced his mental break. Only three others were in the station at the time: Mr. Marconi – an aging Italian man who oversaw operations, Mr. Peterson – a shift supervisor, and Sara Arita – the young and attractive news anchor who headed up the morning hour.

With the slamming of the exit door, all three stared at each other in a silence of wide-eyed disbelief.

“We’re…pussies?”, Mr. Peterson repeated as though he were in a trance. Pale faced and emotionless, Mr. Marconi nodded his head in agreement. The two men’s gaze wandered to Sara where they began eyeing her body up. They stepped forward with conviction and she stepped back, disturbed by their oddly sudden interest in her. She was right to be afraid. They lunged, surrounded, and grabbed onto her. Mr. Marconi paid no heed to her protestations as he lined up behind her and pulled in close. Lifting her skirt, he groped zealously at the emptiness of her womanly groin. So smooth…So soft…Just like he wanted to be…

“MR. MARCONI! Get your hands -OFF- of me!”, Sara pleaded with all of her tiny little Asian might.

“Oh, but Mrs. Arita…”, he moaned, “You feel so nice down here…I want to feel this nice. Didn’t you hear? We’re pussies. Let us become what we were meant to be…Part of you…Please, we’re such pussies. We want to become -your- pussy. Please, Mrs. Arita…We just want to be your cute little pussy!”

Completely overwhelmed by the desire to become her womanly slit, the two ripped into her stockings and panties like madmen. With her lower lips exposed, Mr. Peterson leaned in and gave them a soft kiss. A bond formed where his flesh met hers, and soon the young businessman found himself being rapidly absorbed into the skin between Sara’s legs. It began with the disappearance of his head, then his shoulders, back, ass, and finally legs. Two minutes after it began the last of his toes melded into the girl’s flesh and all that remained was an empty, crumpled business suit and Sara’s tight little vagina spread wide and ready for Mr. Marconi’s turn. He wasted no time in flipping her around and beginning his own transformation. The process repeated itself, and it wasn’t long before he joined Mr. Peterson within Sara’s delicate folds.

No longer trapped by the fondling hands of her former bosses, Sara sat alone on the floor of the studio, panting. With her undergarments torn to shreds, she looked down at her pussy in disbelief. Mr. Peterson…Mr. Marconi…Were they gone forever? How did it even happen? Ian…He’d called them pussies, and they each then became -her- pussy. But why? How? Did he have some power?

A lightbulb went off. Despite how traumatic the experience had been, Sara was a strong and ambitious woman. It didn't take her long to realize she was center-stage in the greatest story of her lifetime. Possibly of -anyone’s- lifetime! Did Ian know he could do this? Had he done it before? What else could he do? She -had- to ask him! This was exactly the kind of big break she’d been waiting for!

Slipping a new pair of panties and hose over Mr. Peterson and Mr. Marconi, the “three” set out into the field to get the full story. Ambition can be a dangerous thing, though. In all her excitement, there was one question Sara -wasn’t- asking: Was it safe to confront someone so powerful? Her bosses would probably say no, but they won’t be saying -anything- any longer. Ian had made sure of that…