Gigantic Variations

by Maxwell Avoi

  “I know. But I have the dreams too. And the need.”

  Stacy knew it was true. She and TD had been taken from their previous lives and altered at the whim of a monster. They’d been redesigned and altered at every level to be the perfect concubines. The only difference was that they had both been male at the start of the process. She knew that TD had the same overwhelming desire for sex that filled her every waking moment, and that he went through the same endless varieties of wet dreams that filled her nights, but she couldn’t help thinking that he was still ahead of the game.

  “Maybe…oh God.” She bit her full lip, the sting of pain only causing the pleasure to run higher. Everything cause her pleasure to run higher; part of the change meant that everything that her partner did caused her body to react with intense bursts of desire and bliss. She tried to talk normally but her body started to clench around him, making it hard to fill her lungs all the way. She spoke in a series of ecstatic gasps instead. “Maybe we could! Talk to! Spell Nellie about! It!”

  The climax was slower but no less powerful than the others; Stacy had to bury her face in his shoulder to muffle her cries as it filed her with liquid gold. He came at the same time, of course. They always came at the same time when they were together; their bodies, their curses, were synched. If they had chosen it, it would have been glorious. As it was, their mutual orgasms felt like prisons sometimes.

  She pulled her hips back and sighed when the feel of him leaving her set off another series of tingles. He rolled onto his back, out of the danger zone for now, both of them temporarily satisfied. They had lived in their new forms for almost two years and both of them knew that the relief would be short-lived.

  “You really think that she might be able to help? You know she’s not really a witch, right?” he said.

  Stacy gave him a Look and then shrugged. “Worth a shot. I know she’s been studying magic since she turned into Spell Nellie for good. Maybe she has some idea, or might be able to find something.”

  He shrugged back. “Works for me. Now I suppose you’re going to kick me out of your bed.”

  Stacy laughed and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You won’t be lonely for long.”

  He rolled his eyes. Those eyes were reddish to her, as if he’d had a horrible night. His skin was redder than most humans, and no human had the discreet horns that he did on his temples. Her coloring and signs were the same to those who could see them; in addition, she had tiny bat-like wings on her shoulders. She was just glad that she didn’t have a tail. When he got up and left, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t been kidding; even though the sex was amazing, a constant diet of anything got old after a while. More than anything, even though she knew that there were thousands who would trade places with her even with the drawbacks, Miss Stacy just wanted to be normal for a little while.

  “So we were thinking that there might be something that you could do to help us out a little,” said Stacy.

  Spell Nellie nodded, stroking her chin. She was taller and slimmer than Stacy, with a certain elegance that lent her magic-themed strip shows a veneer of respectability.

  Beside her, her partner Mandi Milker sat close by. She was rarely far away except when they were dancing. Mandi was as tall as Nellie, though much broader through the shoulders and more muscular overall. That broad base supported four huge, heavy breasts that looked like part of her act, but in her case they were all real. So were the curled horns that sprouted from her temples and the black and white spotted tail attached to the base of her spine. She had a cowgirl theme to her dances and was very much in demand for private parties among some fans.

  Bree stood at the door, comfortable in her usual spot as the bouncer. She was nearly eight feet tall and heavily muscled. Like Mandi, she had a pair of bovine horns at her temples, though she only had two large breasts. Her face was placid, with something almost childlike in its innocence. She was another escapee from the same monster that had altered Stacy.

  “I’m not sure if there’s anything that can help,” said Nellie. She and Mandi were among the few dancers who knew the truth about TD and Stacy. “I mean, I’ll look, but the magic that changed you was really strong. I don’t even know if I could do anything that would undo even a little of it.”

  Mandi stroked Nellie’s hand. The last woman at the table, a statuesque blonde wearing a pink, lacy outfit, said, “I don’t know either.”

  Stacy gave her a distracted smile. Glenda was no more a witch than she was an astronaut, but she had stayed the night at the club again after someone had given her a Valentine card. The spell that had changed Glenda from a man to a woman had ensured her obsession with the holiday; a few of her fans knew about it and took advantage from time to time. It was known to some that giving anything to do with Valentine’s Day to Glenda ensured a wild night with the dancer. It helped that she didn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m off tonight,” said Nellie. “I’ll go ask around, figure something out.”

  “I appreciate it,” said Stacy. “Just like I appreciate your discretion.”

  Nellie chuckled. “You keep on letting me and my girls work here, and I’ll be glad to help however I can.”

  Stacy gave her a smile that was precisely calculated to draw attention to her lips. She had no say in the gesture; another one of the adjustments made to her ensured that everything she did was calculated to be as erotic as possible. Stacy could cause a riot by cleaning a toilet. “You and your girls are always welcome here. You’re some of our best acts.”

  “Damn right,” said Mandi, sticking her chest out. She and Nellie shared a smile that made Stacy ache for a moment; her particular set of curses made it nearly impossible for her to find the kind of intimate connection that Mandi and Nellie shared. She and TD were friends and frankly used each other for sexual relief but there had never been any kind of spark.

  The night started and went on the usual way, the crowd coming in around five and the club going strong until the doors closed. Miss Stacy worked the crowd, flirting with the customers and making sure that everyone had a good time. TD was head bartender and Bree was on the door as usual. In spite of her peaceful appearance her sheer size made sure that Bree rarely had any problems with anyone who got belligerent. TD helped entertain any women who came to the club, a rare occurrence, and Stacy enthralled everyone else.

  She was careful not to be around during the dancing, because she knew that she would draw attention away from them thanks to her in-built powers of attraction. Twice she faded into the background with customers, taking them to her bed during a set and making sure that they didn’t feel like they’d missed anything. Everyone was quite satisfied by the arrangement but it left Stacy brooding about life again, wishing that she could take some time off from the incessant sex. Unless Nellie found something to help she was stuck. The arousal was always with her, practically forcing her into bed with others. The pleasure was also constant, and powerful, but she wanted a break.

  That night she took two men to her bed in the apartment behind the club. She didn’t see TD’s sleeping situation but she was sure that he had arranged something similar. As always, Stacy was the last one to fall asleep after countless climaxes. Her partners were able to go longer than they ever had before, another side effect of what she regarded as her curse. They were well and truly exhausted by the end of it.

  Stacy woke the rest of the employees up the next day as usual, engaging with both of her partners at once. As was her habit, she thanked them nicely and offered them breakfast before they left; TD was a good cook. Her partners rarely agreed to the food and never stayed long in any case; they usually seemed embarrassed in the light of day, eager to get out of there as if worried they might see someone they knew.

  Both the boys left without breakfast. Stacy didn’t take it personally. She dressed in a red silken robe and headed downstairs, every movement frankly erotic. She and TD sat down at the table there and had breakfast with Bree. The three of them
were the only permanent residents of the strip club’s apartments, all three of them survivors of the monster that had warped their lives so profoundly.

  “So what do you plan to wear for Halloween?” said TD.

  Stacy rolled her eyes, the movement looking like a woman savoring a sudden burst of pleasure. “I hadn’t even thought about it. I suppose I’ll just go with the nurse costume again.”

  “Nicely ironic.”

  “I thought so. You?”

  “Oh, that barbarian warrior outfit seems to go over well.”

  Bree blushed slightly and ducked her head at the thought of TD in that costume. The others were nice enough to ignore her; her semi-crush on TD was well-known, as was her shyness when she wasn’t bouncing troublemakers. Stacy didn’t have enough friends to alienate any of them.

  As Bree washed the dishes and Stacy looked over the books, the side door opened to reveal Spell Nellie in street clothes. It was always slightly jarring to see her dancers that way; Stacy was used to seeing Nellie in her sexy witch outfit, with the body glitter that gave her a magical aura. The woman in front of her was pretty in a pleasant sort of way but nothing about her screamed “stripper.”

  “Where’s your sidekick?” said TD, giving Nellie a grin that would have made a nun fan herself.

  Nellie laughed and said, “Mandi loves this time of year, but she’s tired from yesterday.”

  TD snorted. Stacy pulled the chair next to her out and gestured to it. She and Nellie kissed each other on the cheek and Stacy said, “What brings you here so early?”

  Nellie’s smile was radiant. “I think I figured it out.”

  Stacy blinked. “Figured what out?”

  “How you can take a break like you wanted to do!”

  Stacy heard TD drop a glass in the sink. “Are you sure?” she said.

  Nellie nodded enthusiastically. “It’s only for twenty-four hours, though. Once a year.”

  Stacy rolled her eyes. “I’ll take anything at this point.”

  Nellie put her hand on Stacy’s. “I didn’t know it was so bad, or I would have looked for something earlier.”

  Stacy shook her head. “It’s not your fault, hon. I wish I’d said something earlier.”

  “Me too,” said TD. He came over and sat down, and they were soon joined by Bree. The enormous woman was uncharacteristically focused, staring at Nellie as if trying to burn the woman’s features into her memory. Nellie gave them each a smile and a nod before turning back to Stacy. “The night of Halloween is actually fairly important, when it comes to some of the older religions. It’s a lot of things, but for one thing it’s a time of crossing over, when the spirits have a chance to come here and vice versa.”

  “What’s that got to do with us taking a day off from all this?” said Stacy.

  “Well, it’s the crossing-over that’s important. You see, I made these amulets. Let me tell you how they work…”

  Jamie Proffitt turned 21 on the day before Halloween. His buddies all thought that it was hilarious that he had never been to a strip club before. To be fair, in their state they mostly thought that everything was hilarious; his friends were pretty drunk by the time they piled into the bus and headed for a club called Absolute Ecstasy. Jamie went along though he wasn’t entirely sure that he even wanted to visit such a club. He had heard that many strippers and others in those places hated their customers and that wasn’t particularly appealing. The peer pressure was too much for him to fight, and if he was honest with himself he would admit that he didn’t fight it very hard. Absolute Ecstasy had a reputation for being one of the best clubs in town and the still-virginal Jamie was in the mood to see a naked woman. That is, he was 21, straight, and conscious.

  The club only gave the barest nod to the season with a few fake bats and a pumpkin or two added to the existing décor. It smelled better than he expected, and looked better. It was also quieter than he thought it would be; obviously, this place was going for a classier vibe than some of the others that he’d read about. He didn’t have any firsthand experience, of course, but the books didn’t lie.

  Jamie allowed himself to be herded along into the club. The place was half-full and they took advantage of that to surround a table near the central stage. The show was already going by the time they got there, so they kept their voices down as they ordered yet more drinks. Jamie just watched the stage, his mouth open.

  The display introduced her as Mighty Mona; he soon figured out the source of her name. She was smallish and slimmer than he would have liked, but the entire time she was onstage and peeling herself nearly bare she moaned and yelped as if in the throes of a massive orgasm. It just went on and on, her face reflecting the pleasure that her mouth proclaimed, until she collapsed in a heap at the end of her song.

  The lights went dark and then went up on another stage. Jamie looked there as the speaker overhead announced a special appearance by Mandi Milker, and couldn’t we give her a big hand folks!

  Mandi was tall and broad through the shoulders, though not like the bouncer, and she seemed to have not just two but four gigantic tits. Jamie stared with his mouth hanging open as the others around him laughed and jeered at him. If she was a fake, she was an amazing one; in keeping with local ordinances she kept her top on but released her lower set of breasts early into the set. She had a cowgirl act to go with her name, and Jamie found himself achingly hard by the time she was done.

  There was a break, and the guys around him settled into their conversations as he digested what he’d seen. Mona seemed to be okay; she was gone, anyway, and there was no sign of a paramedic team treating anyone for sexual exhaustion. He felt slightly disappointed that her act had been just that, but he figured that was what you got at a strip club. He shrugged and sipped his rum and Coke, enjoying the swirl of people around him.

  He felt the slim hand touch his shoulder a moment before the owner’s voice caressed his ear. “Now this looks like a party,” she said. Her voice was low for a woman, undeniably female, and full of smoke. There was a purr in the bottom of it that cut right past his mind to seize his brain stem in a way that made him shift in his seat as his balls tightened.

  The voice brought the conversation at that half of the table to a halt, and when they turned to see who had spoken it was with an air of shock that they hadn’t noticed her until then. Long dark hair that was probably reddish in the daylight cascaded down a body that had been designed in a secret lab somewhere with the express purpose of appealing to male libidos. Heavy breasts, well-displayed to show deep cleavage without being obvious about it; a slender neck with a leather collar supporting a strange amulet; wide, rounded hips; and those lips…

  Jamie wondered for a moment if he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming his perfect woman. She wore an angel costume made from flowing drapes of fabric that alternately clung to and obscured her body depending on how she moved; it promised rather than revealed, implying that she wore no underwear while at the same time never quite confirming it. A blinking halo alternately illuminated and obscured her face, though her eyes never lost their impact. Her wings fluttered from time to time as if attached.

  All this in the first three seconds. Jamie had time to appreciate the way that her left nipple tented the fabric that covered it before he opened his mouth and said, “You?”

  There was more to the sentence but he seemed unable to finish it. Instead he gestured helplessly at the only free chair at the table. The angel seemed to understand what he was trying to communicate; he assumed that she got that kind of reaction all the time and had learned to decipher words spoken in Lout. She quickly became the center of attention.

  “Welcome to the club. I’m Miss Stacy, and this is my place.”

  One of Jamie’s friends said, “We’re here for his party!” He pointed at Jamie, who was glad that the lights were low enough that his sudden blush wasn’t obvious.

  “Really? What’s the big occasion?” she said, turning her attention on Jamie. It was like stepping out o
f a quiet room and into the teeth of a raging sandstorm. He froze up.

  “Twenty-first birthday, Halloween, and never been to a strip club before,” said the same friend, counting on his fingers. Jamie’s mind blanked but eventually kicked back the thought that this was Will, and that Jamie was going to have to arrange for his murder later.

  “Is that a fact,” said Miss Stacy, turning his brain off again. He wasn’t used to girls, much less women, much less living epitomes of erotic desire. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, her hair tickling him and her smoky scent filling his nostrils. It wasn’t cigarette smoke; it was more like cinnamon incense, with an undertone of something else. “You know that birthday boys drink free at Absolute Ecstasy, don’t you?”

  The others around the table whooped at this news and immediately flagged down a waitress to get some orders for Jamie. Jamie felt his shoulders contract as he tried to do a slow fade, but there was no avoiding Miss Stacy’s direct stare. She said, “I mostly came by to let you boys know that we’re about to close up for the night, but I think that I have time to make this a night to remember, Jamie. Why don’t you come back with me to the private rooms?”

  She held out one elegant hand and Jamie took it, moving slowly. Surely this was a dream, he thought. The others whooped again as they started up a collection to pay for Jamie’s upcoming lap dance. Miss Stacy laughed in a way that would have gotten her arrested for inciting a riot in some places. She said, “No charge tonight, not for Jamie here. Now you boys, don’t wait up. I’ll make sure that he gets home nice and safe.”

  The party staggered out the front door, sending plenty of loud, drunken encouragement Jamie’s way as it went. Part of him wanted to go with them but he was entirely in the grip of his hormones by that time. Miss Stacy stood and gave him a follow-me gesture with one finger, heading off into the darkness of the club. He followed, helpless at the promises that her swinging hips whispered with each step.