The Magic Tablet: The Complete Series

by Nadia Nightside

  As she approached Lawton's office, something felt wrong. Intensely wrong, the kind of wrong that made her reach into her purse and wrap her hands around the little can of pepper spray she had waiting.

  It was a sort of sixth sense she had; a sensitivity to danger, the kind of thing that had saved her skin more than once living in the city. She trusted this sense, and her guard was up.

  Inside the door to Lawton’s office, she heard screams. Immediately, she flung the door open—and saw the love of her life getting plowed thoroughly by a powerfully muscular young man.

  The screams were screams of pleasure. Phoebe was having the fuck of her life.

  They didn’t seem to notice Gwen, and she didn’t utter a word. She was speechless at this erotic display. Phoebe’s blond, supple body was entire naked, sweaty, clinging to the man as if her life depended on it.

  “Yes, baby!” she moaned. “Oh fuck, yes, Jacob! Give it to me! Your dick is so big! Your dick is so fucking right, oh my god! I’m gonna cum, Jacob, oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m gonna—gonna, oh...oh fuck!”

  Gwen watched, her cunt suddenly and inescapably dripping wet, as Jacob—and when had he become so muscular and youthful?—drove her girlfriend to a mind-melting orgasm.

  Jealously flooded Gwen; she had never seen Phoebe cum like that, with her mouth twitching in silent ecstasy, too much pleasure flowing through her body to even form words.

  And even then he was not done with her. He bent her over on the table—twisting her lithe body effortlessly—and shoved himself into her from behind.

  “Fucking...fucking make you mine,” he grunted. “Make you what I fucking want.”

  From the table, he grabbed a tablet, tapping and sliding.

  The door shut slowly behind Gwen on its own. She didn’t notice. Her mind, her entire being, was too transfixed with what was happening before her. She knew she should be mad—and she was—but she was also fucking turned on. Gwen watched, her cunt dripping, fingers tugging at her shirt around her neck and reaching in to grab her nipples.

  “Fuck,” she said, very softly, watching Jacob’s back muscles as he drove his huge cock into Phoebe. “Fuck...cock...big...”

  Her mind felt slow and soggy. Thick. Swampish. Thoughts arrived slow and stayed for a long time, and every last notion centered around the immensity of Jacob’s cock, how virile he must be, how good Phoebe must feel with it pumping in and out of her like that.

  She felt high, but more than that, like she was somehow witnessing herself in the way she felt when she had in the past tripped on mushrooms.

  Drool formed on her lips, forming a slow trail down her chin and melding into the beads of sweat on her neck and chest. He was fucking her so goddamn hard.

  She watched, with dumb amazement, as Jacob worked on the tablet set on Phoebe’s back and Phoebe began to change.

  It was small aspects at first—her skin became more tanned, her hair more golden blond. The roots had always been darker than the rest of her hair, but no longer—they were gorgeous bright blond now. And then her hair became longer, thicker, streaming out from her skull like a waterfall of silk.

  And then her tits started growing. They ballooned out at first—becoming wider than her back and as big around as the seats of a chair—pumping underneath her body like inner-tubes. Jacob laughed for a minute at that and then made a few more swipes, and Phoebe’s tits became smaller though still massive—easily an E cup—but sensationally gravity-defying. Muscles, strong and intricately sexy, developed on her delightfully hot back to help support the load.

  That was too much for Gwen. She loved tits—she loved Phoebe’s tits, and now to think that there were more of them...

  She dropped to her knees. Somehow, her pants had fallen down to her ankles; fortunate, though, for this made it all the easier for her fingers to bury themselves in her cunt.

  “Shit!” she cried out, her body pulsing with ecstasy. “Shit, fuck. That’s so fucking...so fucking hot...”

  A part of her knew it was wrong. A part of her knew, indeed, that this was all fucking insane. That this was dangerous and she had to get out of here as soon as possible.

  But all of this was buried—deeply so—beneath an avalanche of arousal for something that she had never even felt before. It perhaps would have been one thing to be as crazy attracted to Phoebe as she felt right now—with Phoebe still becoming every more gorgeous beneath Jacob, with her legs longer, her body leaner, her waist tinier, hips wider.

  But to feel all this want, this desire, this need for Cock, capital C motherfucking COCK for the first time in her life, Gwen’s more rational side had no chance.

  If she was still a lesbian, it was only because she couldn’t imagine fucking any other man alive...only Jacob. And oh, fuck, did she want to fuck him.

  Finally, the two rutting mates seemed to notice her. Jacob turned with a smile, pulling himself out of Phoebe. Hot streams of precum shot to the floor, like a trail of gasoline leading to a fire. Some landed on Gwen's bare thighs, and she scooped it up with a sort of wonder, marveling at its thickness, its consistency as it slid between her fingers.

  “Lick it down,” said Jacob.

  And she had to, she had to obey. He was the bearer of this fucking nectar and she had to do what he said. Truth was, she would have done it even if he hadn’t told her to.

  The second the thick substance entered her mouth, a deep, pleasured moan escaped her. This was everything. This was everything she had ever wanted. It was like if all the pleasure receptors dedicated wine and chocolate doubled in number and participated in a mass orgy.

  “Phoebe,” said Jacob. “Take a drag off my cock and kiss your lover.”

  The blond beauty’s eyes glowed with anticipation. “Yes, Sir,” she moaned, dropping to her knees and taking his cock in slow and easy. It was incredible to Gwen, how much of his cock there was—and how easily Phoebe took it down her throat. A thick, pulsing bulge was visible inside her throat, and then she pulled out, her lips and face slathered with his essence.

  Then Phoebe turned to her lover, eyes smoldering. Those glorious, newly huge tits, wet with sweat and every inch of her toned to perfection. Soft, baited breaths exiting her angelic, cum-slathered mouth. Long strands of the thick goo crossing in tendrils across her open lips.

  “Kiss me, my love,” Phoebe moaned, taking Gwen in her arms. “Kiss me forever.”

  There was no resistance possible. Gwen melted into Phoebe, her huge breasts, her perfected body, her silken soft hair. They kissed for what felt like days, but must have only been minutes. Each new second of rubbing their lips and tongues against each other meant more and more of Jacob’s intoxicating cum slipped down Gwen’s throat. The taste was amazing. Her cunt boiled over and as much as she adored kissing her love, she needed to be filled by that fucking bimbo-breeding godstick he called a cock.

  “Just a few changes here,” said Jacob, tinkering with his tablet. “You never liked me very much, did you, Gwen?”

  He was commanding her attention now, and she had to give him her respect. It was so important for a pretty girl like her to respect a Man like Jacob.

  “I...I don’t...” she gulped. She thought she liked him—liked him a lot, actually, always had. But if he was saying she didn’t, she didn’t want to disrespect him somehow...

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re in love with me now, aren’t you? Both of you.”

  Gwen stole a glance at Phoebe, and the two of them blushed. She recalled with clarity now the conspiracy she and Phoebe had made, getting Phoebe the job as his TA so that they could have time alone with him like this. Their love was girlish, adoring, and absolutely real. He was like a rock star times one million—they'd do anything to be alone with him like this.

  “Yes, Sir,” said Gwen, breathy, staring with adoration up at him. “Totally in love.”

  “And you love your new body, Gwen, don’t you?”

  Truth be told, she had barely noticed it. But at his words, she looked down at herself and saw t
he changes he had made—the bigger, fuller breasts. The tight musculature of her body where she had been simple skin-and-bones before. The thick, full dark brown hair that cascaded in sexy, voluminous beach girl waves down the middle of her back—red streak in tact. She and Phoebe looked more like sisters than lovers.

  “Yes, Sir. I love it.”

  She had to love everything he told her to love. He was a Man and she was just his silly fuckdoll and that was that.

  “Good girls. Why don’t you come suck my cock together?”

  They groaned, both obviously waiting for this. Gwen rushed forward first, taking her first taste of cock with relish, sliding her mouth over his massively thick shaft with an ease that would have been absolutely impossible just two minutes ago, before Jacob had noticed her and began to alter her mind and body with the tablet. Before, she might have broken her jaw, and certainly choked to death, trying to wrap her luscious lips around his huge cock. Now she took to it like a duck to water, sliding up and over, tongue lashing with loving licks all around the sides as she slurped and stroked him.

  “God, fuck her mouth, Master,” Phoebe moaned. “Please fuck Gwen’s mouth? Please? Oh fuck, do it...fucking teach her a lesson. Teach her to obey you, Master...”

  Master, thought Gwen. Oh fuck, yes. That was the perfect name for Jacob. He was her Master, and he was fucking her mouth.

  She slipped off the cock only long enough for Phoebe to join her as they ran their mouths and tongues over his cock in unison. Passionately, they melded lips at the head of his shaft, making out with aching need with his perfect meat in between their conjoined mouths. Phoebe’s fingers slipped into Gwen’s cunt, and Gwen’s into Phoebe’s, and the two of them fingered each other with increasing gusto as they traded turns up and down their new Master’s titanic rod.

  Jacob shoved Gwen into the corner of the office and powered his cock down her throat. If she wasn’t so absolutely willing for him to do it, it would have looked violent, scary. As it was, she moaned with bliss as he manhandled her and began to fuck her throat in earnest—fuck her entire mouth like it was a cunt he needed to teach a lesson.

  And Gwen was so ready to learn his lessons.

  “Fuck her, Master, yes!” Phoebe moaned. “Fuck your little fuckdoll. Fuck her face, please? Fuck her harder. Fuck her until she can’t fucking breath, baby, please, Master?”

  “You fucking bitch,” he grunted. “You always...shooting me those dirty looks. Who's fucking dirty now, Gwen? You're my dirty little whore.”

  She was. What dirty looks he meant, she had no idea. Maybe all those dirty “please come fuck me Daddy” looks she and Phoebe practiced with each other to give him whenever they saw him—their number one Hunk, their super-god-only-man.

  Phoebe, meanwhile, was going mad with desire at his side, bopping at his hips with her fists, pounding her feet up and down on the floor.

  “God, Master, cum down her throat? Oh fuck please? Oh fuck please?”

  Something in him must have felt the desire to comply, because that's exactly what he did. Jacob emptied himself inside Gwen, dumping heavy loads of white hot cum down her belly, painting her throat, spraying into her mouth, and finally covering her face and body.

  There wasn't a part of her that didn't feel totally soaked in his huge load of hot sticky seed. She'd never felt so erotic, so sexy in all her life. She felt like a work of art.

  She had to take it in for a moment, try to regain her bearings. It was so very hard when swallowing and sliding the cum all over herself was so easy, so fun, so delicious.

  Then, still fingering herself, Phoebe knelt forward and happily began to lick her semi-conscious lover clean.

  And all the while Jacob was watching—tinkering—swiping—tapping away at the tablet, perfecting his new slaves.

  * * * * *

  He arranged the girls on the couch, ordering them to make out while he put his thoughts in order. During the drive home, with the two girls safely making out in the back seat, he’d had a sort of moment of clarity:

  There would have to be a reckoning with Vivian.

  She was many things, and not all of them were favorable; but she was still his wife, and he loved her dearly.

  Their relationship had a sort of open door policy when it came to sexual relationships that neither of them much took advantage of. Both were homebodies; going out with some brand new partner was just a lot of damned work, to be honest, and both preferred the company of their spouse.

  So, he wasn’t overly concerned that Vivian might be upset he was cheating on her. According to their rules, he actually hadn’t.

  But he was upset that she’d think he’d overdone it. By, well, a whole hell of a lot. He’d transformed two perfectly innocent young women—lesbians—into his cockloving fuckslaves just because he’d wanted to get off.

  It was hard to explain what had come over him. He’d undone most of the changes to himself at this point—especially those concerning his scent and all the other various addicting qualities of his presence. Phoebe and Gwen remembered that they had fucked him—and remembered that it had been great—but they also were more in love with each other than they had ever been. They were also obedient to him, but not absolutely so.

  He just wanted to make sure that he could have them stay in one place if he wanted to make changes to them. Definitely, no more sex.

  Yes, sure. That's why he brought them home to meet his wife.

  The template that he had built—he called it the “Master build”—was saved on the tablet. Probably that was proof enough that he wasn’t totally serious about giving it all up.

  He was in the bathroom washing his face when he heard Vivian walk in. She walked past him with a soft “hi, dear,” rushing to set down her bags and slip off her shoes. She carried a lot with her through the day.

  Then she saw the two girls on the couch. They had been changed back...mostly. He hadn’t been able to undo his changes to Gwen’s hair—she looked so fucking good with long hair, that red streak intact. And while their breasts were still larger than they had been, they weren’t quite as big as he had made them before.

  And yet, still, he had their old templates saved too.

  And yet, still, also—he persisted in the delusion that he didn't want to fuck them again.

  “I wanted to be good,” he said. “But I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

  Vivian jumped at the sound of his voice, a disbelieving smile on her face. “What...what’s going on, dear?”

  There was no simple way to explain it. He took her by the hand and sat her down in the next room, their dining room that doubled as a small library, overflowing with all of their books.

  He went through it all, step-by-step. The woman in white. The men rushing after her. The stone that became a tablet. The tablet that let him do...anything. The wild rampaging sex with the two beauties one room over.

  She asked him to show it to her, and he did. When she tried to swipe a setting this way or that, though, the screen did not respond.

  “It only works with me,” he said. “Found that out already with Phoebe.”

  Vivian nodded, staring thoughtfully at it. It wasn’t her best angle. Her chin and jawline could stand to be more defined; her eyes just slightly too far apart. A small, barely noticeable zit had appeared on her cheek, covered with make-up.

  There was so much he could change about her. So much he could do. The thought was making his cock strain. He had trouble thinking about anything else.

  “Well,” she said, running a hand up and down his thickly-muscled arm. “I see you certainly didn’t mind making some changes to yourself.”

  “There was more than just this,” he said. “It felt...intoxicating. It felt right, Vivian. And I don’t know if I can stop myself from doing it again.”

  “Do you want me to tell you to stop?”

  “No,” he said instantly. “Yes. I don’t know. I don’t know...what I want.”

  But his cock did. It wanted to fuck, and s
oon. It wanted to fuck Vivian so thoroughly that she’d be begging him to make her prettier for him.

  To be the kind of wifefuckslave he deserved for having so much power.

  “All that matters to me is that you’re happy,” she said carefully.

  “Thanks,” he said. “But I mean...is that happiness? Changing...like that?”

  “How did it feel?”

  “It felt...amazing. But how do...I mean, what do you think about it? What do you feel?”

  She was hard to make open up. Always so concerned she’d be hurting someone’s feelings. “You can have these girls, I can see that. Easily. But it’s...scary, Jacob.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have done that. I just...I got so turned on. I can probably turn them right back to how they were...”

  “We both know you’ll just change them back again.”

  “No, I won’t. I mean, you say the word, and I can just—”

  “Don’t—” Vivian took a moment, shaking her head and bending over. She sat back up again. “No. Okay? I’m not stupid, and neither are you. Right? You have something that makes you a fucking sex god to the women around you, you've already fucked the minds out of two beautiful—fucking gorgeous—young women, and you’re just going to give it up? Jacob...please. Don’t buy into that idiocy. You’re better than that.”

  He looked down, blushing a bit.

  “Hell...” said Vivian. “Even if I did say for you not to do it, I mean, that’s just lunacy. Because if you really wanted, you could just...you know, fucking change my mind, couldn’t you? Just tell me to want this. Tell me to forget this whole conversation, or just manufacture it and place it in my head, or...anything really. It’s...you know. I mean, fuck, honey, even I find that kind of power hot.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Jacob tinkered with the tablet, turning it on and off, on and off.

  “So you want me to...what? Destroy it somehow?”

  “No. Not that. I just want...I don’t want to be left behind.”

  She stood up, walking to the edge of the room where she could see Phoebe and Gwen still passionately making love to each other's faces. Their kissing session has escalated to include lots and lots of tit-grabbing.