Transformed! Nine Magically Erotic Stories
Page 22
It was unsettling. And it was horribly arousing.
Heather's hair had become shinier, her face brighter, her breasts more bouncy and full. Her appearance and change was purely due to all the magic cum he had dumped inside of her. That thought just by itself made him incredibly disturbed...and more than a little aroused, again, which only disturbed him the more. The idea of all that power swirling inside of him, able to change a woman so completely...
He shifted in his seat, frustrated with himself. It wasn’t completely out of the question for someone to be turned on by that. Power was the basis of most sexual interaction, and Caleb had always been more dominant than not. But at the same time, it was his dominant side that had the most problem with this lycanthropy—he had all this power, and yet for the most part, it seemed as though it was out of his control.
And being out of control was definitely something Caleb didn’t like. It had happened before, with his step-sister’s best friends, Sarah and Tabitha, and he never wanted it to happen again. They had been young and beautiful already when he transformed into his werewolf form the first time and took them against their will, so the physical changes that Heather experienced must not have applied to them—or not yet, anyway. To Caleb's knowledge, the two beauties had been cured by his sister Felicia, and left town with the rest of the werewolf biker gang that Caleb had befriended over the past year.
That biker gang—led by an old, salty lycan named Josef—had kept Caleb sane as he struggled with the terror of his new transformative powers. The gang was gone now, though, drifting through the continental U.S. like modern nomads, careful to keep to themselves. With the runes that Felicia had inscribed on his body, Caleb was convinced that he would be able to live a more normal life, and declined their invitation to go along with them.
Maybe that had been a mistake, now. Maybe he should go after them, if Felicia didn't have any ideas on this new problem.
Maybe not, though. It wasn't as though Caleb could transform like the other lycans could.
For whatever reason—and no one, not his witch stepsister or the elder lycan Josef, had been able to tell him—his transformation sucked away at his very soul. He wouldn't survive many more. He was surprised already that he had survived the two from the day before.
Before, when he had taken Sarah and Tabitha, he felt completely drained when he woke.
But now, he felt completely galvanized.
Did it have something to do with Lauren? She seemed integral to all of this.
Felicia would know. He leaned on his stepsister more and more as his magical problems multiplied. Before all of this started, Caleb had been a normal, sort of nerdy kid, interested in computer programming and building motorcycles. He had known nothing of magic, nothing of the paranormal. And in the past year, he had found out there was a roaming motorcycle gang of werewolves wandering through the nation, his stepsister was a witch, and his own body was a breeding ground for brand new types of magic.
It was a lot to take in.
So was Maryse. She leaned up against Caleb, purring out a long little yawn. Caleb’s pulse raced. He wasn't used to driving a real car—so used to his own motorcycle—and so it took him a moment to really grip the wheel even as Maryse purred and leaned harder into him.
“Where are we?” Maryse asked. “Have we gotten back to town yet?”
“Yes,” he said. “We’re maybe five minutes from my house. You still want to talk to Felicia, right?”
Maryse nodded. “For sure.”
As far as she would tell him, Maryse was scared. She didn't look it, though maybe she was so used to being completely put together that the notion of displaying terror offended her.
Still, he knew that the kind of power that he held threatened her—and with good reason. If he transformed again suddenly, and Maryse was right there...there was no way in hell he would be able to restrain himself. He already was having difficulty, even without being in beast form.
He felt like they were out of danger at the moment, but he had felt like that when he arrived at Camp Sunshine Springs as well.
“Is Heather asleep, still?” Caleb asked.
Maryse looked. “Yes.”
From what Lauren and Maryse had described, Heather had been awake for almost twenty-four hours, fingering herself the entire time. Even now as she slept—fully clothed—her hand was still stuck squarely in her tiny, ass-sculpting shorts, twitching every so often. He had tossed a spare blanket on her when they started the trip, but it had slid off of Heather from her constant attentions, and her complete non-caring that she was exposing herself.
“Good,” said Caleb. “I wanted to talk a little about what’s happened, if that’s all right with you.”
Maryse shrugged. “Okay.”
“I just...sometimes when I talk things through, they can make more sense.”
She nodded brightly, shifting in her seat so that she faced him fully. “Tell me.”
He took a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to look down the disastrously sexy cleavage she presented, or her angelically crafted face. That took up most of his concentration. She was a driving hazard worse than texting, worse than intoxication.
Without any effort at all, Caleb remembered in high school stories of how she had caused wrecks by walking across the crosswalk in front of the school. She seemed proud of it, as he recalled—and that only turned him on a bit more. The thought of her giggling with vain delight after she caused a car crash sent a shiver of ashamed desire down Caleb's spine.
He took a breath. “I think someone had to have been casting a spell on me. It’s either that, or the place itself was...I don’t know. Cursed or haunted somehow.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Maryse. “I thought you said it was tied to your arousal...or Lauren?”
“I think me returning to normal was. I mean, I was in front of her when I returned to normal, both times.”
She raised an elegant eyebrow. “That’s true. But, I was there, too.”
He frowned at that. “I guess so. I hadn’t thought of that.”
It was possible that Maryse was the root of his cure, but he quickly rejected that hypothesis. He had much more emotional connection with Lauren—and wasn’t that what magic was all about? The kind of undefinable definitions that only the world of magic had any rational explanations for—tendrils of energy looping around one person to another.
Maybe. He didn’t know. Only Felicia really knew. Maybe magic wasn’t connected or related to anything.
But still, Maryse’s point worked at different points in his mind. It would have held more weight, perhaps, if she had been anything more than a totem of masturbation for the last several years of his life. As it was, he had only known her in a face-to-face manner for less than twelve hours. It was a bit hard to take her seriously—not because he didn’t trust her intelligence, but rather because he was still finding the entirety of the situation a bit hard to swallow.
Maryse, gorgeous Maryse, longtime crush Maryse, cheerleading queen Maryse, supermodel-status-worthy Maryse—sitting in a car with him, looking at him with those gorgeous big blue eyes in the way he had always hoped she would, with complete fascination with him and the words that emptied out of his mouth.
“Maybe Felicia will know more about what reverted me to normal,” Caleb offered.
“And what caused you to change?”
“I hope so. I do remember now...I mean, being away from that place, it feels different. And being there, I remember a sort of fog over my thoughts. Or like, behind my shoulder, you know? Something waiting on me. Something waiting for me, maybe. I don’t feel it anymore. I think I’m...I think I’m safe, right now.”
“Do you think you’d recognize it if it came back?”
“Now that I’m aware of it? I hope so.”
He shrugged. That was most of his plan right now—simple hope.
The town of Summerville was small. In the middle of the summer, several children were playing in the neighborho
od streets—tossing balls around houses, setting up goals for street hockey, that sort of thing. Finally, they came to Caleb's house, and drove up the driveway to the back of the house—well-hidden from the street.
Once more, Maryse slid up against Caleb, just like a cat. Her head pushed hard against his chest, her breasts dangling low. The sight of her cleavage, so close to him, made Caleb feel a little high.
She danced one hand across his chest. “Thank you so much for the ride, sweetie.”
Her hand continued to dance downward, until it fell onto his thigh.
“Uh, yeah.” He coughed, not sure how to act. “It’s your car, though.”
“Actually, it's Bryce's car.” She laughed as Caleb showed his surprise. “But don't worry, he won't mind.”
Despite his prolific screwing ability when turned into a werewolf, Caleb really had zero clue how to act around girls as pretty as Maryse. The closest he had ever gotten to a comfort zone was with Lauren, but even with her, it was hard to say how he felt.
Lauren was almost more like...like someone he had known forever. Almost like a sister, except with a strong splash of sexual attraction thrown in the mix.
Maryse was like the complete opposite. All sex, no familiarity. And the hand of this purring, cooing sex goddess was right on his thigh.
“Besides, you did all the driving, baby...” Her hand started drifting up his thigh over to his crotch, squeezing and rubbing hard. Finally it rested on his already-stiffening cock, pushing hard through his shorts. “Won’t you let me thank you?”
“We shouldn’t. The lycanthropy...it might...”
“We don’t know that that’s a problem,” she insisted. “You said it yourself, you thought it was someone messing with you. Someone casting a spell or something to make you change. Maybe having a nice, hot, lazy blowjob will help you calm down...help you feel better?”
“You d-don’t have to do this, Maryse...”
She unzipped him, and his cock sprang out immediately. A soft little exhale of pleasure fled Maryse's mouth.
“I know,” she said. “I want to.”
Her hand slipped around his naked cock. Precum oozed outward. Caleb didn't know what to say, just letting her work.
“Aren’t I prettier than her?”
“Wh-what?”
She stroked him with careful expertise, her golden hair sliding in lovely fashion against her face. Tendrils of it slid against his balls, tickling them wonderfully.
“Lauren. Aren’t I prettier than Lauren? Tell me I am.”
That was easy enough. They both the same age, but Lauren was a very pretty girl, while Maryse was a beautiful woman.
“You’re prettier than her,” he breathed, his head sliding back, looking deep in her bright blue eyes.
“Thank you, baby.” She leaned into his neck, whispering hotly up to his ear. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Fuck.”
Caleb’s cock twitched and grew in Maryse’s skilled grip. She seemed to be excited by how turned on he was getting.
“You should have fucked me instead of her, shouldn't you have? You should have taken me instead, if I'm prettier than her.”
She was insane, he realized suddenly. Insanely in love with herself—to the point where she was offended that he hadn't taken her instead of Lauren.
“I...yes. I s-should have.”
In the highness of his aroused thoughts, he really wished he had taken Maryse. She was completely convincing, and besides that, he knew that if he had taken her, she would be his slave, now. And wouldn't that be just perfect?
Precum shot up from his cock, coating Maryse's hand. She giggled happily, breathing hard, face quickly covered in lust again. With a delighted moan, Maryse leaned down and licked off the precum—inspiring even more to spurt out. Once more, she giggled in delight and licked that up as well.
“Do you want me to take it my mouth, Sir? Do you want it in me? I want you to want me to...”
Long, gentle threads of needy saliva dripped down from Maryse’s tongue and lips, coating his big cock in wet warmth.
“Oh god...” Caleb moaned, right on the verge of accepting.
Nothing was in his way, of course. He was just taking his time—there was no way he wouldn’t say yes.
And then, in an instant, it was all ruined.
“Oh yes, Master,” Heather cooed, sitting up and sliding her hands around Caleb’s shoulders. “Fuck her mouth...fuck her princess pretty mouth, Sire...”
Caleb shook his head furiously. Fuck, this was too wrong. He couldn’t do this, not with Heather right there, not when Heather was so fucked in the head. Caleb shot up, pushing Maryse away.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, we can’t do this. This...this is too weird. I’m sorry. Let’s just get inside.”
And he jumped out of the car, not quite believing what he’d just turned down.
* * * * *
Walking after the hurried, blushing Caleb, Maryse guided Heather along, rather annoyed with the still-masturbating younger woman. Heather had slowed down her self-administered pleasure since the day before to some degree, but still insisted on touching herself wherever she went.
Maryse was convinced, at this point, that Heather was doing this only because Caleb hadn’t ordered her to do anything else—she pointed that out on the ride over, in fact. But Caleb refused to order Heather around.
“Enough damage has already been done,” he said.
Overall, Maryse wasn’t very impressed with Caleb right now.
Even with what he had done to Heather with the vast amounts of the power roiling within him, he was denying all his authority. That was a bit of a turn-off for Maryse, competing heavily with the huge turn-on that that self-same roiling power and authority was.
Nothing was sexier to her than authority, than power. She wanted Caleb on her side...and she wanted somehow to be the one he wanted at her side, to be the one who helped him be in charge.
Clearly he was made for ruling—how else had he done what he had to Heather?
Oh sure, Maryse would need protection from his abilities—but that’s what magic was for, wasn’t it?
She knew nothing of magic, and yet, if werewolves and witches and magical runes and spells were in play, then what the hell wasn’t? She would want what she wanted until she found out it was impossible—that was simply her way.
The decor in Caleb's house was standard suburban fare. Suede couches, tile floors, lots of plants and pots and clocks. Pictures of the family on the walls—everyone smiling. Though, the older everyone got, the more Caleb’s pretty stepsister became flat-out gorgeous, and the more dangerous Caleb started to look—especially in the most recent picture. All those sexy tattoos on his arms and neck.
Maryse had never, ever been turned down before. To be turned down like that...when her mouth had been hovering over his cock, downright salivating for it...
It was immensely frustrating. And it was with this frustration that she followed Caleb upstairs and encountered Felicia again. The door to the young witch's room was covered with runes and symbols—much like Caleb’s tattoos.
When she had seen Felicia at the camp—very briefly—she had been concerned that the older girl, or woman really, was perhaps more beautiful than her. When Felicia opened the door, this concern was no longer in “perhaps” mode.
She was flat out gorgeous. Her hair, long and dark, was like a shimmering, thick shiny shadow trailing down her back. Her eyes were large and green, full of easy, hot seduction. She wore tight leather pants and an even tighter black corset, highlighting the luscious divide of toned, creamy flesh between her wide hips and expansive, mouth-watering bust. Maryse didn't want many girls right away, despite her bisexual urges—usually it took her some time to become aware of her attraction.
Not so with Felicia. All of Maryse’s bisexual buttons were getting pressed, hard, by Felicia’s presence.
“It happened again,” said Caleb. “I need your help. This is Heather...”
Felicia’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth hanging open. “Oh, no. Oh, Caleb!”
She hugged her brother close—and Maryse could not help but notice how her incredible tits—so huge and impossibly bouncy—crushed against his wiry frame.
“Yes,” said Felicia, rubbing Caleb's back. “I can take care of this,” she said. “I can take care of you.”
“Mmm,” moaned Heather. “I bet you can. Master can probably take care of both of us.”
Heather licked her lips lustily, clearly imagining Caleb fucking his step-sister. And because Maryse saw Heather imagining that, she had to imagine it herself...and found herself oddly attracted to the notion.
It seemed...right, somehow...
“That’s terrible,” said Caleb. He turned to Felicia. “You see what I mean?”
“Yes.” Felicia nodded, though she cast an inquiring, almost inviting glance over to Maryse. “I can handle it, I believe. Though you will have to stay here while I work on her. She will be...pained, without you, I think.”
Felicia's voice had a faintly exotic tinge to it—some accent hidden over the years, European in origin, perhaps. It only added to her allure.
“I had questions, too,” said Maryse, grabbing Felicia. “I really want to know—”
“I understand. But you’ll have to wait. This—” Felicia pointed at Heather. “—or she, rather, is the priority. Time is of the essence. If we don’t take care of her, she may be permanently stuck in this state. You understand? We must be alone, now.”
Not waiting for a response, Felicia slipped back inside her room, grabbing Heather roughly, who giggled at the roughness. Once again, Maryse’s needs were turned down for the sake of Heather.
This was getting to be rather annoying.
Caleb waited, letting the door stay ajar, to talk to Maryse.
“I’m sorry about what happened in the car,” he said. “I really...I didn’t want to offend you. I apologize if I did.”