the Sorcerer’s Daughter

part 4

The story so far: Our Hero, Mark Banyon, has run afoul of a powerful sorcerer and his daughter. He’s been transformed into an extremely busty blonde (Think DDDDDDDDDD-cup) and been used for sex, maid service, a gang-bang and, well, used. So now on this fine Sunday morn, he’s confronted by someone from the office—worse, someone who knows who he is in that glamorous female bod.

This was not good. Brian, the coffee boy from my office, was grinning so wide it looked like the top of his head might come off. Of course, from his perspective, seeing his middle-aged boss changed into a blonde cutie with gigantic tits must have been a blast. He was certainly having fun playing with my tits.

Lisa came out from the room and said “I’m going to get Bert, he said you needed to talk to me?” From the tone of her voice it sounded like she’d rather get a root canal.

All I could do was nod and say “Y-yes, Mistress,” which sparked another round of laughter from Brian, both from the way I had to address Lisa and the very high-pitched, girly voice I had.

“ ‘Yes, Mistress,’ ” he mimicked. He took a firm hold of my left nipple and jerked up on it, watching as my boobs swung all over the place.

“You two, wait in there,” she said. I went in, followed closely by Brian. I heard his snickering as I pulled my top back down—it certainly couldn’t cover my monster rack, but it did come down enough to cover my nipples. Before I could reach a chair to sit in, he grabbed my shoulder and stopped me.

“Hey, wait, Marcia,” laughing about using the feminized version of my name. “The way you’re dressed, I’d have thought you’d be…friendlier.”

He laughed as I blushed again. I was standing here in high heels and pink skintight spandex shorts, and halter that exposed generous crescents of my tits under the words “OLYMPIC COCKSUCKING TEAM.” Behind Brian, I saw Lisa smiling in the doorway. She crossed her hands and blinked her eyes at me, like Barbara Eden in the “I Dream of Jeannie” series, before walking away.

And so I wasn’t surprised—humiliated as hell, but not surprised—when I found myself walking up to Brian close enough to brush him with my tits.

“Why, Mr. Dell, sir,” I said, smiling at him, “You certainly don’t have anything to worry about on that score, a fine, handsome man like you.”

He was smiling right back as I hefted my boobs, each one quite an armful. It highlighted the demeaning words on it. “You read this,” I said, and licked my lips suggestively.

“Oh, yeah, Jiggles, I read it.”

I dropped my boobs, and as he watched I said, “Well, then,” and flipped it back up, letting my tits flop around uncovered. “Peek-a-boo,” I cooed, giggling. “Well, how about letting the captain of the cocksucking team get some practice in?”

He was quite eager to unzip his pants, and I fell to my knees and started in on him. He only had the usual six inches…maybe Lisa hadn’t ‘worked’ on him yet. As I licked his hot hard manhood he said “Wow, it’s just so much fun when the boss gives me a tongue-lashing!” before spurting his jism into my mouth.

Lisa came in while I was licking him clean, and said “Boy, Jiggles, you just never get tired of the taste of dick, do you?” They both enjoyed a good laugh over that. I was only able to stop licking long enough to say “Yes, Mistress.”

We sat down around a small coffee table. My arms wouldn’t move to pull my halter back down. Lisa turned to me and said “Well, Bert says you wanted to talk business.”

“Yes, Mistress.” This was my one and most likely only chance, so I’d have to make it good.

“I realize you’re punishing me for my crimes against you, Mistress, but there are a lot of people who depend on my business. Not just the employees-ow!” I’d been trying to ignore Brian playing with my right tit, but just as I said “employees” he yanked on my nipple. “But other people,” I continued, “People who rely on the money from the brokerage.”

“I need to be able to go in Monday morning and take care of the day-to-day duties, Mistress. Otherwise people you don’t wish to hurt will be punished.” She nodded, and I felt genuinely happy for the first time all weekend! I’d made it!

“So, tomorrow morning, you’ll be a man again and can go back to your work, and your life,” she said. Then she continued, with iron in her voice, “If you ever try to pressure a girl who works for you into bed, you won’t find me as nice and gentle as I was this weekend.”

“Oh, yes, of course, Mistress,” I was babbling, “I would certainly never ever do anything like that again. You have my absolute word of honor on that!! I would—” the words cut off as the usual dildo appeared, strapped into my mouth.

After Brian’s laughter finally died down, Lisa said “Well, now, the question is, what should we do today?”

Brian spoke up. “Well, since Jiggles here,” he said, tossing my tit up to watch it bounce around, “is supposed to be teaching us interns about money…maybe we should see just how much money we can make off of a girl like this,” and sent my boobs on another jiggling spree.

They discussed various places known for local prostitutes while I looked on, gagged with a dildo while Brian played with my chest. The high-class places paid a lot more, but as a streetwalker I’d be more exposed and get a lot more dicks into me. That settled it. I was marched out to the car. They drove me out to the Exit 33 truck stop, and at last the dildo vanished. I found myself getting out of the car and watching them drive away.

I was decked out in my heels, wearing black fishnet stockings held up by a lacy black garter belt. My microskirt was short enough to show that my thong panties were see-through. My top was a very brief red tube top, stretched out in front into a very wide, and revealing, mesh. A small black purse slung over one shoulder held some rather garishly colored makeup. A pair of dangling heart-shaped earrings on my newly-pierced ears completes my outfit.

As I got out, I could see my face in the mirror, and my make-up was a little heavier than what you’d call “slutty.” I just had time to feel uncomfortable in the cool morning air when I heard a man yell “Hey, baby!!”

I turned to look as it hit me—a deep, grinding, horrible need for get a dick in my mouth—to feel it throb and slide in and out while I tongued it. I was unable to think about anything else except my blind need to suck on a man’s—any man’s—cock, as I strutted quite gracefully, poetry in wild, rolling motion, towards the man getting out of his 18-wheeler.

“Well, hel-LO, Tiger,” I purred at him, desperate with my need. He looked at me, liking what he saw very, very much.

“Hello baby. So,” he said, looking around carefully, “So, look, you want to…do a little business or what?”

I stepped up and stroked his arm coquettishly. “You look like a man who needs some lipstick on his dipstick,” I said, trying to suppress the aching need I felt. “It’s only twenty dollars, sugar.”

He hurriedly passed the bill to me and climbed up into his cab. I followed right behind, jerking his zipper down before he even closed the door. I pulled his underpants open and his stiffening rod flew out. He needed a bath, and had been sitting and sweating all night, and I greedily slurped it in, rubbing hot pink lipstick into his pubic hair.

I simply loved feeling him thrusting his dick deeper into my mouth, as my tongue flicked over the tip before curling around the head. I was at least able to think while I had his dick in my mouth, and realized that this was something Lisa’d done as part of her games—but the important thing was the lovely, delicious cock I sucked on as my tongue slid down each side of it, until suddenly my mouth filled with his salty wad.

I swallowed it all, moaning with pleasure, and licked his cock perfectly clean, before getting out. No sooner had my feet hot the ground before I became aware of the need for more jism. I reached into my purse and quickly smeared some more lipstick on my hungry lips. I could already feel the all-consuming need to get a dick in my mouth as another truck pulled in off the Interstate. My boobs easily escaped my minuscule little tube top as I ran to greet him.

Them, I almost squealed in delight! They got out to admire the view of my tits flying free in the sunshine. “Hey, boys,” I said as I reached their truck. I tried to pull my tube top back up, but then that set my rack waving again. They enjoyed my attempts to hit a moving target.

I looked up at them and giggled girlishly. “I guess I should put these away, fellas.”

“Oh, don’t hurry on our account,” the taller and hairier one said. Finally I just gave up, my tube top a thin cord running diagonally under my right boob and over the left. “Maybe we could help steady your…self, ma’am?”

“Oh, sure,” I said, just as the hunger really began to take hold. “But first, maybe we could do a little business…”

Shorty went to get their lunches. By the time he got back I was just swallowing Harry’s sperm. Shorty seemed fascinated, watching me lick his partner clean, lovingly and tenderly. His pants were almost bursting when I turned to him and said “Get ready for the sexiest kiss of your entire life!!” He undid his pants while I quickly reapplied my lipstick, and then eagerly wiped it off on him.

Lisa and Brian came for me a few hours after sunset. My purse was thick with twenties. As I got in I obediently handed over $2,840. It would have been over three thousand, but the cops who came to investigate got freebies. Brian said “I guess you already drank supper, huh, Marcia?”

We went to Lances, a bar that was popular with the college crowd. Tonight’s wet T-shirt contest finals was one of the reasons why. I didn’t know and didn’t ask how they’d got me into the finals. Lisa transformed my hooker outfit into a tiny pink thong and another T-shirt halter like this morning, except this one said “CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE.”

As I got out I found myself saying “Pardon me, Mistress, but since these contests are mostly about bust size, it might help if you made me a lot bigger.”

Almost instantly I swelled out, way out. My halter grew into a full T-shirt, but it was sticking so far out, it still only just covered my nipples, which by now were a foot across. I was surprised at how stately I was able to walk in six-inch heels. As I entered, I heard a man yelling for contestants at the side door. I turned to look, and one guy was actually knocked down as my boobs swung around…and around…and around…

Inside the other contestants stared icicles at me. Several observed that “there’s just no way those are real,” and one asked if I enjoyed being a walking freak. All I could say to anyone was “Tee-hee,” and giggle.

There was the usual applause and wolf whistles from the crowd, but the place exploded when I went swinging and swaying out there, totally drowning out the music. My rack was on-stage well before I got there, and the security had to constantly keep drunken frat boys from rushing the stage.

The MC sprayed me with a super water-gun, wetting down my shirt real good. I danced a bit, keeping my boobs in motion and the security guards in danger as the MC made comments like “I knew a girl who had a poem tattooed on her jug. This fox could get the Encyclopedia Britannica,” and “When she burned her bra, it took the fire department weeks to put it out” and “I hope you clowns are enjoying the show under the big top!”

Finally I was able to leave, with the ten thousand dollar top prize for Lisa. It was 11:30 by then, and I was even looking forward to sleeping with Bert that night. I should have known better when they gave me a pair of jeans to put on over my thong. With my tits in the way, it only took half an hour to get them on.

Instead, I was taken to the Club Maynard, a strip club I’d been to a few times. I guessed Lisa didn’t want to lose her chance to make me a topless waitress for the night. Or so I thought until we pulled into the parking lot. The marquee read “MARCIA MOUNTAINS BARES ALL” in red neon, and by the door was a poster of, well, me, in my current body but wearing a barely-there nightgown.

They let me out in back, and the man at the door shooed me in. “Almost showtime, Marcia. Your fans await!” I barely had ten minutes to touch up my make-up and get into costume.

I strutted onto stage in a blare of some modern rock nonsense. The crowd applauded and whistled as a gave a few shakes, giving them an idea what was under the prim white nurse’s uniform I was in. Then I spun, grabbed the one key string by my shoulder and pulled. My modest white frock spun away from me, leaving me in heels and undies.

Every minute or two I’d dance up to the edge and guys would run up, my boulders waving in their faces, and stuff bills into the garter up on my left thigh. It gave them a great opportunity to cop a feel, and many of them did just that. The crowd also loved it each time I reached behind to unhook my bra.

After the tenth or eleventh hook, the rest gave way under the strain. I stood there and waved my amazing rack around counterclockwise, shaking off the bra. Underneath I had pasted on red sparkly stars that nowhere near covered my erect nipples.

As I danced I pulled another string, and my panties were dangling from my hand. Underneath I had a skimpy little G-string, which was ironically a little more modest than the bikini bottom I’d worn yesterday—just a little.

Often during the dance I had to deposit the ever-growing ring of money in my garter with Brian, my ‘manager,’ who was waiting in the wings for the cash and a chance to cop a feel.

After peeling off the pasties and pulling off my G-string, I kept dancing in my garter and heels. Finally I was able to get down, and the waitresses refreshed everyone’s forgotten drinks as the Jugg Sisters lined up for their dance number offstage.

Brian hustled me out stark naked into the car and we were off again. I was just closing my eyes when Brian said “Ramada Inn on Main.”

“Wh-what’s that,” I asked, wondering what else they’d cooked up for me tonight.

Brian enjoyed explaining it to me. “A rather wealthy businessman approached me during your dance.” I vaguely remembered a short fat man talking to him backstage while I was peeling off my last pasty.

“After some negotiation,” Brian continued, “We struck a deal. You’re sleeping with him tonight.”

“Tonight?!? B-but tomorrow—”

“Oh, shut up, bitch!” Lisa yelled. “Tomorrow you get restored to normal like I said—If you’re good tonight! Just keep him busy,” she added cryptically. I shut up, remembering what was at stake, and she continued. “After the raging slut you’ve been this weekend, one more man isn’t going to make any difference,” she finished, and they laughed.

At least they fixed me up nice when they let me off at the Ramada. I was in a stunning evening gown, hot pink in matching heels, with diamond earrings. The gown was slit far enough up to show I wasn’t wearing any panties, and there almost wasn’t a top, just two pink strips of material running up the front and joining behind my neck. They were almost two feet wide where they attempted to cup my roomful of bazooms.

What with me and my two jugs, we pretty much occupied the elevator. That didn’t stop three guys from pushing their way in, and I really doubt that guy hit the stop button by accident.

I went to the door number Brian had told me to go, and knocked on the door. The door opened, and I suddenly felt weak in the knees. He was shorter than me, even without the heels, and was overweight, yes, but he was gorgeous!! I simply fell helplessly in love with him on the spot!

I waited a few moments for him to make eye contact, but of course I couldn’t blame the poor dear for being entranced with my bust. “Hi, love,” I cooed at him. “I’m Marcia.”

He looked up, and said “H-hi, Marcia. I’m Steve. Please, won’t you come in?”

I sashayed through the door, and he just loved the way I moved. I was just so very glad my love enjoyed looking at me like that! I smiled at him, and did a little twirl to let him see the treat he had in store tonight. He laughed, and hurried to offer me some champagne. I accepted to be nice, but was already drunk on my boundless love for him.

We sat on the couch, and while he was talking about how he’d finally worked up the nerve to see my manager I couldn’t resist any longer and I pulled him into my warm deep cleavage and kissed him, tasting the garlic sauce he’d had on his pasta for dinner.

His hands were suddenly all over me, and I thrilled to every touch, helping him get me out of that gown! He broke off just long enough to fly out of his clothes. I ignored the unworthy thought that he had bigger tits than a lot of girls I’d dated when I was a man—I was the girl here, and I was glad to be a girl, just so I could please my wonderful love.

He took me there on the couch, after a little understandable trouble getting his dick out from under his belly. He came quickly and lay there, fondling me as I stroked his third chin. After a bit, I felt the slightest twinge from my darlings stiffening dick. I decided to help it along, and started to get up.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked.

“Oh, heavens no, dear! I just thought, you might enjoy a private dance.” I wiggled my tits in his face for emphasis.

“Oh, yes, certainly, by all means!!! I’d love that, Marcia!”

I smiled from the sheer joy of pleasing my one and only love. “My friends call me ‘Jiggles,’ ” I said as I started dancing around for him. In no time his darling four inches were up (and it’s not the size, after all, but the wonderful, darling man it’s on) and I dropped to my knees and greedily sucked him in. I tongued his up, down and sideways, and pushed and pushed myself deeper into his crotch until I had his little nutsack in my mouth, too!

Of course, I licked everything clean after he gave me a loving spurt to swallow. We went to bed deeply entwined in each other, and I had never loved anything more than the feel of my man in my arms.

Monday morning, I awoke deeply disgusted with what I’d done the previous night, but I was starting to get used to it. I padded into the bathroom while Fatso was still asleep, sitting down to take a piss—maybe the last one I’d have to take as a girl, I thought hopefully!

Coming out, I found Betty there, in jeans and a T-shirt, but then, she enjoyed letting her tits flap around. Lisa was standing behind him, and suddenly I was growing, changing—I jumped back into the bathroom, and in the mirror I saw my old self again!! I was a man again, back even in the clothes I’d worn to the Rosen’s mansion when I was planning to—

I cut that thought off and turned to thank Lisa, but she was already leaving, snatching up something a few inches long from the now-empty bed. I went after her, but Betty took my arm. “I wouldn’t, sugar. You’re not exactly her favorite person.”

We were out in the hall by now, Lisa was going ahead to the elevator. I suddenly grabbed Betty and kissed her from the sheer joy of it. I was a man again!!

I actually found myself singing along with the radio as I drove to work. I didn’t remember ever enjoying a Monday like this before! I greeted my secretary with an especially jaunty wave, making her wonder what a wild weekend I must have had to be so chipper. If she only knew!

I had a cup of coffee to start the morning with—Brian was gone, thank God, off to Bermuda after winning thirty thousand dollars on the lottery, or so the office rumor went. I had a voice mail, Lisa, saying that she’d found work elsewhere. She’d be in at 10:00 to pick up her letter of recommendation. And that it had better be good…

I almost growled at that, but no, now was not the time to make her angry again. I wrote one of the most positive letters of recommendation ever, and she was in right on the hour to pick it up.

“Just let me say, thank—”

“Shut up. Or be a tampon. Your choice,” she sneered. “I said I’d change you back, and I did. We’re through.” The anger in her voice was still frightening to me. “The next time our paths cross, you will not get off anywhere so easily. Am I making myself absolutely, perfectly clear, worm?”

I watched her storm out, trying not to shake. I ordered another cup of coffee, and tried to concentrate on Mr. Sloan’s retirement funds.

By lunchtime I was feeling the old pressure I’d almost learned to ignore—no, I’d put off peeing all weekend because—but, now, I was ready to pee like a man!

I strode back to my private bathroom—it’s good to be the boss—and unzipped my pants, nudged open the flap in my briefs—

And felt a slightly moist slit. My pussy. I was changed in outward appearances, and looked like the man I was…but…but, I was still a girl. I was going to have to go to the Rosen’s and beg to be made a whole man.

Oh-oh.

To Be Continued