“Okay, fellas,” said Hans. “Drop your pants.”
Giggling at the absurdity of the statement, Marisol scanned the faces of the handsome men around her, searching for someone else sharing her mirth.
But then...then they actually did drop their pants. Just like that. No hesitation—they had nothing to hide, and lots to show off. Oh god.
Each cock was bigger than the last, just like the men.
Oh god. So many big, hard, supreme cocks surrounding her. Fuck. How the hell had this happened?
She was so fucking turned on. Why couldn't she calm down? Everything was so arousing all of a sudden.
“Wh-what’s happening?” she said to Hans, who had shifted forward through the ring of muscled men with his camera. “Why are they...why um, like, are the hot studs all naked and stuff?”
God, she hadn’t meant to sound like such a ditz. But these cocks were so big...some of the men were stroking them, too. And they were just getting bigger and bigger, stiffer and stiffer, and starting to ooze out hot glimpses of precum. They kept rubbing their cocks, sliding the precum into their meaty flesh, making the cocks shiny and wet. Marisol let out a hot, needy moan.
“I thought,” said Hans, flashing the camera at her, “that you were a professional. Aren’t you?”
“I...I-I am, it’s just...”
“Then you ought to let them fuck you. Just look at the camera, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”
Look at the camera. Don’t worry.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
Every flash eroded another piece of her will. She didn’t have to care, didn’t have to worry. There were so many strong, strong men around. Certainly, they could take of everything for her.
Flash. Flash.
Marisol dropped to her knees, pushing her face toward the nearest cock she could see.
Something about that camera flash was affecting her, she realized, bringing a hand up to thoughtfully slide over the cock she had gotten so close to. It was making her all...all weak-willed and silly.
It was making her act like a proper little girl for once. She was so happy to act like a real woman should—submissive and sweet.
And fertile, too, she realized. Incredibly fertile.
“You’re incredibly fertile,” said Hans, again, even though she just now realized he had said it the first time. There were so many flashes, so many new thoughts. It was so difficult to keep up with all of them. “You’re such a beautiful, fertile woman. You’ve been wasting it, though. Shouldn’t you be fucked by all these men and see how fertile you really are? They’ll give you lots of cum, all unprotected. You’ll feel more warm and filled than you ever have.”
Marisol whimpered with need, holding her big tits tight. That was exactly what she wanted.
But still, there were...there were so many of them!
They would break her in half!
Flash. Flash.
Oh god. There were so many of them. So many hot, male bodies, with such cut muscles and svelte hips, pressing in on her, pushing against her. They were so strong, so masculine. All of them with such hard, hard cocks, exclusively for her.
They would break. Her. In. Half.
She let out a hot, shuddery moan, her breath coating the cock in front of her face as she stroked it harder.
So many men. So many cocks. She was just a weak little girl, made to submit and give in to her superiors. How could she say no?
“I’ve been jerking off to you for years,” said one behind her. His cock pushed hard on her shoulder, nudging her further down on her knees, further down to her place.
“You’re the girl I thought of when I fucked my wife on our wedding night,” said the man in front of her, stroking her hair as she stroked him.
Her pussy dripped hot, and, unable to help herself, she ventured out her tongue to slide over the sexy, thick tip of his cock. She moaned with ecstasy.
It. Tasted. So. Good!
“Please, Sirs,” she moaned. “Please, teach me how to be a good girl for all of you!”
Quickly, they tore off what little lingerie she had on, leaving her only in her jewels and heels and stockings. These were her ornaments, while they could ornament her with their cocks. Their hands crawled over her tight, lush body as she moaned in open submission to their combined will.
The stud in front, still holding her hair, nudged his cock against her lips. Happily, she slurped it down, moaning and licking like a good girl.
She couldn’t possibly only take care of him, though—or at least, she couldn’t and still be a good girl. She grabbed the cocks of the two men at his side, gently but forcefully stroking their premium dicks—but then she realized that the last two were left out.
Happily, she laid herself out on the floor, pulling two studs down at random with her so they sandwiched her. One quickly entered her hot, willing snatch—and the other stuffed himself inside of her tight asshole. Double penetrated, just like that.
God, she was such a good girl to be able to take so much cock. And she wanted even more. Twisting herself around, she was able to moan—almost overcome with pleasure at this point—and beg for one of the studs to fill her mouth. Of course, one agreed happily—and entered her from above, so that his hot, thick balls slapped against her forehead. That way, his cock could easily drive into the vacuum of her throat, where she sucked and slurped eagerly. The other two were satisfied with her hands on their cocks as they knelt over her incredible chest, twisted upward just for their enjoyment.
Her entire body revolved around hot, perfect cock filling her up like never before. She was in love, total and complete love, with being a slut. It was so perfect for a good girl like her to be so slutty and hot and filled with cock.
From either the piledriving force into her ass, or the amazing brute strength of the cock plowing into her pussy, or the hot thrill of being throatfucked by a complete hunk, Marisol came.
And then she never stopped cumming. Her bliss peaked, and then it rose again just as it threatened to fall. Her every muscle, every fiber was consumed with hot, endless pleasure as the cocks thrust into her holes over and over. One man would cum, pause for a few moments to warm back up again, and then stiffen once more for Marisol's hot fertile bod, just like she needed.
The hard, forceful fucking being delivered to her body from all angles was too much for her brain to comprehend fully. So, it was no wonder that, when the men started cumming inside of her, flooding her throat and womb and ass and tits with warm semen, only to remain hard and continue to fuck her, that Marisol was unable to actually process what was happening.
It was definitely no surprise that she couldn’t process the fact that her brilliantly red hair was becoming even more brilliantly red—not to mention longer, thicker, shinier, and generally more voluminous altogether. She would have been delighted to see her legs longer, her pussy tighter, her tits bigger, her face just a bit more sexified with puffier lips and bigger eyes.
But of course, she saw none of that. Perhaps, as one stud’s sweet nectar flowed down her throat, she could see out of the corner of her eyes as her tits ballooned up and swelled outward.
It’s hard to say. Marisol certainly didn’t want to concern herself with anything except for the brilliantly hard cocks stuffing her body full of spunk and covering her in hot, gooey white goodness.
And, little did she know (or care), the more they fucked her, the more she came, the emptier and emptier her brain became.
She did realize, however, that like, sucking and fucking cocks was just, seriously a bunch of super great fun. She should be doing it all the time!
After nearly an hour—the camera flashing the entire time—the men finally stopped. Marisol was properly covered in a veritable shower of cum. Giggling happily, she slipped up a handful from between her mountainous tits and gobbled it down, noting with delight when she saw her tits ripple and grow a bit more.
Her tits were getting bigger the more spunk she swallowed!
How fucking hot was that?
How fucking great? She would be the bustiest model on the planet.
Distantly, it occurred to her that with all the cum that had flooded into her unprotected pussy, she was probably pregnant. These men seemed awfully virile, after all.
She giggled again. Preggo! That would soooo cool. Another set of curves for her to show off.
Above her, still clothed, Hans put his hands on his hips.
“Boys, I think you may have overdone it a little. Boss wants her upstairs in just a little bit.”
“We couldn’t help ourselves,” said one stud, slapping her big tits. Cum splattered everywhere. “She was just so smoking hot. Really, she still is. Do you think we can go for another round?”
Marisol nodded and giggled, moaning happily. They could go on her for as many rounds as they could handle.
* * * * *
Vivian stepped out of the elevator into the top floor of the Shining Spiral Casino, a bit put-off. She had figured it out—figured out everything that was going on in this crazy place. The mind control, the hypnotism, the tits getting bigger, and the men and women fucking endlessly—she had seen it all!
And she was going to expose the man behind it all and let him know who he was dealing with.
She knew that her looks would distract this power-hungry man, this Mister Craft. Certainly, he seemed to focus quite a bit on the way women looked. It was the early evening, and she still wore what she had arrived in that morning: outrageously expensive heels, pants, and a blouse.
Her tight dark pants showed off her ass incredibly—not to mention the length of her gorgeous gams—and her cleavage-baring blouse was only there to display how much her incredibly buoyant, young, perfect 36DD tits didn’t need a bra. So, of course, she didn’t wear one, exposing her twin beauties to all who looked—which was, she knew, everyone she passed.
Vivian was quite accustomed to being looked at. To say that she enjoyed it didn’t was beyond the point—it was simply a fact of life. She had been designed to be looked at and admired by the entire world. There was not a single doubt of this in her mind. Whatever could make this happen—whatever could enhance it and garner her more attention—was the morally correct thing to do.
There was also not a single doubt in her mind as to what this Mister Craft was up to. Somehow, he had brainwashed Jacqueline into being some lactating lesbian’s loveslave, and drugged Marisol so that her tits would get even bigger!
So, she strutted right past the busty secretary diddling herself in front of his office, and burst through the double-doors to his expansive office. Mister Craft was at the far end—his office rather bare and spartan—sitting behind a large desk and examining a series of papers and tablets with a pen in his hand.
“Miss Ruiz,” said Craft, barely looking up from the papers on his desk. “What a surprise.”
He certainly didn’t seem surprised.
“You think you’re so smart and superior, don’t you?” said Vivian. “You think you have this all well in hand. But, what you don't know is that I'm on to you.”
Now he was paying attention. He set his pen down, looking bemused. “Are you now?”
“That’s right! I saw how your little Selene seduced Jacqueline. That flashy pendant and those drinks, or whatever.”
His eyes began to widen a bit. Vivian let herself stand up straighter, satisfied with the reaction. A smug smile crossed her lovely face.
“I saw that gangbang on Marisol, as well. I suppose you know that all those men could go to jail for that, and you too, for organizing it.”
He shrugged. “She certainly seemed to be enjoying it. I doubt you could put together any kind of a prison sentence with her in the state she's in. How did you see all of that?”
“As if you don’t know! Your man guided me around all day, and I ‘just so happened’ to stumble on your little orchestrated dalliances? Oh no, I don’t think so at all. That’s too coincidental. You wanted me to see them.”
“I did?”
“Of course you did. You wanted me to watch that bitch Jacqueline become a hot little coquettish kitten, so eager to please and curl up in her new mistress’s lap, just aching for the chance to lick pussy on command. Isn’t that right?”
“Well...”
Vivian held up a finger to her hot, elegant chin, posing automatically—she couldn't help herself. “And of course you wanted me to see the other side of what you can arrange. The hot, terrible forcefulness of your might—how you can make men unleash their brutality and cover a willing, needy babe in showers of cum—unprotected, I might add! She’s probably pregnant now!”
“I very much expect she is. But what do you think I was trying to do with all this? If, indeed, I planned you seeing it?”
“I imagine you wanted me cowed. You wanted me scared. You wanted me intimidated. Do I look intimidated, Mister Craft?”
She tossed her brilliant, lustrous dark hair back, standing proudly.
“No,” he said. “I have to admit, you don’t.”
He actually did look surprised now, thinking about that.
“That’s right. Do you want to know why?”
“I certainly do.”
She smiled, bending over at the waist, ass held high so that he could see its luscious arc, and purred, “I couldn't possibly be scared, because I am more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.”
His mouth hung open. “Beg pardon?”
“You heard me.” She tugged at her blouse, popping off a button, exposing even more of her perfect, toned visage. “I am turned on as hell. I want you to take me, right here, right now.”
With one hand, she cleared his desk, sliding up on to it. Her hair tumbled down her side, highlighting her sexy form. Craft was speechless.
“I’m not stupid, Sir.” She practically cooed the title. “I know you didn’t have to hire those other two models. And if you can exercise this much control and hire me, why not only bring me here? You wanted to show me how powerful you are.”
She moved one long leg over toward Craft—who had stood up, his hands wavering above her body. Her expensive heel slid up his crotch, pressing gently.
“You wanted me, in some way, to give in. But you thought you had to do it with intimidation, didn’t you?” She smiled sexily. “Only, power turns me on, Sir. It turns me on a lot. I want you to be able to own me, take me, break me, bend me to your will...but I want you do it knowing how badly I want you to do it.”
“Fuck.” Craft shook his head, grabbing at her leg now and touching it, as if to confirm that this was happening. She didn't protest in the slightest.
“Was I the object of your plans all along, Sir? Was it me you got all this money for? I did a little research, and if you offered Jacqueline and Marisol what you offered me, then you were giving up over three-quarters of your profits for the year.”
He nodded slowly, her hands on his shirt, drawing him in. She knew he was affected by her. Her beauty. He had probably watched her for years now—on the runway, on her swim shoots. Collecting candid photos of her from red carpet events.
“I bet you’ve cum to the thought of me before,” she said. “Looking at me in hot pictures of yours. Isn’t it so hot, so nice, so wonderful, that every time you’ve gazed lovingly into those pictures, feeling that hot connection, knowing I belonged just with you, only with you—isn't it so hot that every time you did that, that I was looking right back out, just at you, only at you? Don't you love knowing that even with all my beauty, all my perfection, that you were the only man I needed, this whole time?”
She tore his shirt open, revealing a broad, hot chest. Whimpering hotly, she stroked the muscles there with adoration.
“Isn’t it nice to know, Sir, that all I’ve really wanted this whole time was for your big, fat cock to fill me up?” Her green eyes were so open, so earnest. “I’ve gone on and on in interviews about being a virgin. Did you know that it was true?”
“Oh, man...”
With gusto, he ripped her pants off, revealing the
sexy, hot, tanned flesh of her long, long legs. Tiny silver panties decorated her pussy—and were easily removed. Her pussy, waxed, waited for him, dripping out hot juice onto his desk.
“Did you know, Sir,” she drew her mouth up close to his, breathing so hard, “did you know that I’ve been saving myself...just for you?”
Unable to hold back any longer, Craft took her by the neck and cheek and kissed her hard. Vivian’s body ramped forward, an orgasm instantly rocking through her. She moaned tearfully into Craft, loving the cool, sublime slip of his control starting to slip over her mind. She could feel it, tendrils of his manipulation sinking into her brain...and she welcomed them. He probably couldn’t restrain himself.
Unbuttoning for a moment, Craft dropped his pants and kicked them aside. His cock—just as Vivian had hoped—was enormous, thick, and already hard. She needed it inside of her.
“How will you do it?” she asked him. “How will you take my mind? Am I feeling it already?”
“The crystals you saw, the shakes, the cameras...these are all extensions of my power. I can build them however I like, but the real power lies with me. Yes, to answer your question. I'm taking you already. Slowly. You'll be aware of every step.”
Vivian whimpered hotly. That was so fucking perfect. He deserved her.
Rancorously, she slipped her fingers straight into her gushing wet pussy. She only realized after she had done it that it wasn’t her idea—Craft had made her do that.
Mmm, god. He owned her already.
Grinning wickedly, he began to stroke his cock in front of her.
“Oh god,” she moaned, staring at it, feeling him raise her heat exponentially. “I need it! I n-neeed it! I’ve never needed anything so bad and I fucking need your cock so b-bad, Sir, please! I need you to get me pregnant, please? On my first time. Pregnant on my first time!”
Transformed! Nine Magically Erotic Stories Page 8