the Sorcerer’s Daughter

part 6

The story so far: Our Hero, Mark Banyon, has been having the strangest week, as a sorcerer and his daughter have changed him, used him, rented him out, and generally had gangs of fun altering his shape and his mind. He has just been transformed into a pair of panties for the maid.

I was stuck here, helpless and unable to move or speak at all, pressed up into Betty’s crotch. I could smell her—somehow, even though I couldn’t breath—her lovely little pussy was enormous now, all I could see. Then her hips did some sensuous wriggling and it was suddenly darker, though I could see the lower part of her cunt…Betty’s idea of a miniskirt was other women’s idea of a belt.

She bent and stretched, and I tried not to let myself get too carried away, but in fact, the only thing I could do was to feel the movements of Betty’s thighs as her lovely legs moved and her amazing backfield went into its barely-legal motion.

I rubbed up and down so near to that lovely slit that I…well, I’d eaten her, yes, but never had the chance to fuck. I’d only barely met her, when Lisa’s father had changed me into a woman for his enjoyment. And then Lisa took me out and made me an insatiable slut.

All through my ordeal at the hands of the Rosens and their magic powers, Betty had been my only friend, the only one I could turn to. Lisa let me think she’d restored me to my original body…until I had to pee, and found out I was still emasculated, a girl. I didn’t realize how good I’d had it at the time.

Betty didn’t show any sign of recognition when she’d pulled me out of the drawer. She didn’t know it was me, down here pressed tightly against her smooth lovely mound.

She stopped walking, and I could hear her say “Good morning, Miss Rosen.”

“Good morning, Betty. I’m glad you remembered I prefer you in plain panties instead of the fishnets when Daddy isn’t here,” Lisa said, in a very cheerful, friendly tone, quite unlike the hatred and contempt I was used to hearing in her voice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call these plain. They’re beautiful!! I really appreciate them,” Betty said.

“Have you…seen Marcia?” Betty continued, asking carefully. Even after years of the Rosen’s little games, Betty had been surprised by how viciously Lisa had used and abused me.

I strained my utmost to do something, but the only movement I could make was when Betty’s thighs shifted. “Don’t worry, dear,” Lisa said sweetly, “He’s at his homestead now…probably just resting, watching a little TV.”

Betty was a TV, in fact, a transsexual shapeshifter, so technically, Lisa was telling the truth… “Don’t worry, dear,” the sorceress continued, “I’m sure that wherever he is, your crotch is uppermost on his mind!”

“Okay, I was just worried, I hadn’t seen him for so long.”

“Yes, well, Daddy thought he needed a little rest after the past week, and he convinced me. You really like that male chauvinist bastard?”

It took Betty a moment to answer. “Miss Rosen, I know what he tried to do with you—and I don’t condone that sort of thing…but yes, I do like him. A lot.”

Loyal friend Betty!! She had been my one and only refuge from Lisa’s cruelty for days, and still my only chance to get out of this nightmare. Lisa just laughed it off. “Gee, you guys sure do stick together…what a surprise!”

Sudden light as I heard Betty say “Does this look like a guy to you,” and giggle. She must have hiked up her skirt to show herself off. I would have felt her lovely ass moving if she had bent over to lower her skirt.

“Oh yes, that is a very pretty picture,” Lisa said. I imagined she must have felt quite satisfied, seeing me as a pair of pretty panties tight against Betty’s pussy.

I needed to learn not to underestimate her. Lisa continued “Oh, yes…one more thing for today’s duties, Betty.”

“Yes, Miss Rosen?” Betty was suddenly all business.

“Grow a cock—a big one. Don’t change anything else, just grow a big dick.”

“But, Miss Rosen, I don’t want to puncture my nice new panties!” I didn’t want her to, either!!!

“Just do it!” Lisa snapped. “You’ll see,” she said, with a wickedly happy lilt in her voice.

In front of me, Betty’s soft sweet slit closed up and a nuclear submarine came blasting out in my face. I could feel myself change again, not ripping but stretching and straining against this thick monster rod and the massive set of balls cradled underneath.

I heard Betty say “Wow…I’ve never had a lacy pink jockstrap before! But, Miss Rosen, with that silk lining I’ll be—”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Lisa was all sweetness now. “It’s magically absorbent. You can cum in that rag all day and stay perfectly dry!”

Lisa was good to her word, to Betty, anyway. After getting harder and harder and bigger the sequoia in my ‘face’ would spurt out a few quick streams, and while I couldn’t actually swallow any more, I could feel myself absorbing the jism. I was somehow seeing and smelling and tasting the whole inside of the jockstrap’s cup at once.

And once Betty got used to the way I was ‘magically absorbent,’ she’d let it get really big before letting go with a half pint or more of cum in one squirt. Several times she’d rub up against something, though she obviously didn’t need much stimulation. At times I wondered when she got any work done, though I already suspected her job as a ‘maid’ was principally to keep Mr. Rosen supplied with eye candy.

Twice she stopped to pee, before poking her missile back into my face with a trickle of urine still leaking…maybe she wore a cock so little she’d forgotten to shake it off.

Some hours later I heard Lisa telling Betty “Dad’s coming back, better get back into shape.” The two girls laughed as the submarine in front of me dove, vanished into a lovely little slit—and then I was pressed back up against it, but now I feel both of Betty’s legs…

No surprise, Lisa had Betty raise her miniskirt again so Lisa could admire the whorish fishnet pantyhose I’d just turned into.

Betty seemed to be walking around somewhat faster now, and bent over several times, even a trip up and down the stairway…I had a bizarre flash from high school: we were sitting on the edge of the parking lot after school, smoking something that doesn’t concern you, when one of the hottest girls in the Senior class strutted by in her mini. Darryl took one long hit and said “That girl’s making her panties so horny!!” Suddenly, I could understand what he’d meant.

Suddenly I was sopping wet—and was not that absorbent. For a moment I thought Betty had wet herself, but the taste and smell told me she’d just gotten wet.

“Why hel-LO, Mr. Rosen, sir!” she sang out, running and then stopping—but still squirming, as I felt a rather ominous force behind me…they were hugging each other!

“Hello Betty, sweet dove. Are you taking care of Marcia?”

“Marcia? But Miss Rosen said—”

“Betty, do you know just where Marcia is right now?”

“No, sir—”

“God damn it!! Lisa!!!” Her father yelled. I could feel Betty backing up in alarm.

“Betty, please take off your pantyhose.” Betty peeled me off. It must have been dawning on her what had happened, because she put me down very gently.

Suddenly I was a man—minus manhood, of course. Since I was only wearing a tiny pink, lacy G-string it kind of accentuated the…lack. Lisa was coming down the stairs, an insufferably smug look on her face, and her father said “Betty, take Marcia back home. Now.”

I started for the door, and hesitated—marching out of here in just a G-string…it was early evening, plenty of light to be seen by…

Mr. Rosen shot me an exasperated look, and I was suddenly in a pink leotard. Then Lisa blew me a kiss, and my boobs flowed out and out and—

I ran, bouncing and jiggling my way to the car and jumping in. Betty was only a few steps that seemed like eternities behind me. Betty drove us out, heading down the road, as I lay back and softly moaned. I had a human body, at least. By now I was thinking that this might be as good as I was ever going to get, titanic tits and everything. Maybe I should cut my losses and—

I looked down, noticing how I was waving and bobbing freely as the car gently bounced up and down. “Betty…why didn’t you tell me my top had come down?” My leotard didn’t have shoulder straps, and my rack was rocking and rolling freely, trying to turn on the car radio.

Betty looked back at me, smiling somewhere between sweetness and mischief. “Short answer: We were in a hurry. Honest answer: I kind of like the view.”

“Pervert,” I said, and we both laughed. I reached up to holster my tits…and stopped. Betty liked watching them, and I decided it was certainly the least I could do for her.

We went to Betty’s house, as my appearance would have caused way too much commotion at my place, even if I did pull my top back up. I was grateful to be back inside. Wearing my own face over boobs too big for the NBA was in many ways even worse than being the busty blonde wet dream I had spent the week-end as.

Betty threw some leftovers into the microwave and we talked about my situation. I thought it was hopeless. I couldn’t even try to go back to my life, not when I’d have to see a tentmaker about getting a bra…to say nothing of having to see a gynecologist…and if I went back to the Rosens, Lisa would—

I didn’t want to imagine what she’d do. Every time I did, she always did something much, much worse. I tried to eat with enthusiasm—Betty was a genuinely good cook. And, I realized as I forked some more macaroni and cheese into my mouth, this was the first time I’d had any kind of food but sperm since six days ago, when they’d enjoyed watching me eating their breakfast scraps.

Betty cleaned up while I was left to ponder my options. That didn’t take long, as none of them were workable. I needed the Rosen’s magic to get my life back, but Mr. Rosen was determined his daughter learn to switch genders and make me a man. While there were several things Lisa would be glad to change me into, a man just wasn’t one of them.

Betty came over to the couch, and sat down to cuddle. She was incredibly cuddly, and eager, and loving…in less than three minutes we were out of our meager clothes and sixty-nining, my tongue probing deeper and deeper into her delicious pussy, while she kissed my clit in ways that almost made me think being an ugly lesbian wasn’t quite so bad after all.

We both lost count of how many times we climaxed. By the clock we’d been at each other for two and a half hours. Betty had thoughtfully expanded her bustline until it was bigger than even mine, despite the way her much smaller frame had trouble maneuvering around with those melons hanging and swinging off her. Sitting on my lap, now, we played with each others racks for another hour or two.

I was actually happy, sitting here playing with Betty’s amazing body, when she was suddenly growing—no, I shrank—

I was fully a woman again, blonde of course, a little taller than Betty with longer hair and boobs as big as her recently-enlarged pair. I was still looking down at my narrow hourglass hips and waist while Betty answered the ringing phone.

It had happened again!! No matter where I went, or what I did, those two were going to keep toying with me and changing me just for laughs and—

“You can guess who that was,” Betty said. She sat down close beside me, touching me, holding me while she lovingly stroked my face.

“Steve wanted you to be able to leave the house; he figured being a real female-looking woman would be better than your old face on…well, you know.”

I knew all right. I gestured down at me, hitting my enormous right tit in the process. “And now they’re starting these games again, I guess?”

Betty smiled. “Actually, Steve made a compromise with Lisa. He made you this big,” she said, hefting my boobs—or tried to, then used both her arms to heft up one. My nipple was like a big red cantaloupe half, only bigger.

“However,” Betty continued, “Since Steve did make you big enough to, as she put it, ‘have trouble with revolving doors,’ Lisa has promised—and it’s a sorcerer thing, it is binding—not to change a single cell in your body.”

“So…” she said, getting up, “You are indeed stuck in there for now, but they won’t be transforming you into…other things.”

She tried to give me a hand up, but between the plush couch, her diminutive size, and my tremendous boobs, she couldn’t quite—

“Here, let’s try this,” she said, and was suddenly Bert in his 6' 6" well-muscled glory. He reached his arms under me and picked me up bodily off the couch! He smiled, cradling me in his iron-strong arms and carried me into the bedroom, setting me down on the big four-poster bed that dominated the room.

I looked at the way Bert was looking at me, and said “Um…you are going to change back into Betty, aren’t you?”

He laughed and sat down beside me, cupping my left boob and saying “Of course I am, honey!” Then he kissed me softly, and pushed me back down on the bed. “But not tonight,” he said, and laughed. And kissed me hard and long, as I felt his foot of manhood thickening up and stiffening.

“Bett-Bert, please—” was all I got out when he kissed me again. I put my arms up to push him away (futile, I know—my slender little girl’s arms against this massive Incredible Hulk), but then his practiced fingers were doing wild and wonderful and awesome things with my sensitive, painfully-erect nipples, and I just lay there, wallowing in pleasure.

After a few minutes, he took his mouth off of mine and I managed to get out one weak, half-hearted “No.” Bert smiled and dipped his fingers down in the wetness all around my shaven cunt.

“Your mouth says ‘No,’ Marcia, but your lips say ‘Yes.’ ” He grinned, and rolled over on top of me. I saw two spurs form from his shoulders suddenly. growing to the headboard and supporting him over me.

He saw me looking at them, astonished. “They keep my hands free for more important things,” he grinned, deftly fingering my swollen clit until I moaned with raw, naked need. “Things like fondling horny nymphomaniac sluts like you,” he grinned at the pleasure washing over my face, and bent his mouth to my left nipple. The right one was luxuriating in his virtuoso touch, while his other hand was bringing my clit to the brink, then backing away.

I couldn’t stand it, could barely even notice that I’d spread my legs as wide as I could without dislocating my hips. “Now please now please please please now now fuck me fuck me fuck—” My desperate pleas were cut off as he slid twelve inches of amazing throbbing power into my wet trembling pussy.

As soon as he slid that rock-hard shaft past my enraged clit I exploded in an orgasm that rocked the bed out of position. My cries of ecstasy were cut off as he covered my mouth with his. With his gargantuan manhood beating my clit into willing submission and his fingers turning my tits into twin overflowing bushels of joy, I eagerly met his tongue with mine as he crushed his hips into mine, driving orgasm after orgasm after orgasm into me.

Volley after heavenly volley of multiple orgasms rolled over me, through me, into me from the hole that allowed Bert’s blessed dick to make me a woman, his woman…I’m not sure when we stopped, I was only semi-conscious from the sheer pleasure overload.

I became aware that Bert was lying beside me on his side, just looking at me. I still couldn’t even talk, just smiled at him in a perfectly-contented, little-girl way. His extra supports gone, he rolled over on his back and pulled back the sheets to show the towering veined column that had just filled me full of 100% pure, laboratory-grade pleasure. “I’m ready to go again,” he said.

I barely heard, I was already struggling up against the massive weight on my chest to get to that wonderful power pole. He reached over and again easily lifted me by my wide hips. I gasped at the sheer power in him—I wasn’t exactly a skinny girl!—and he grinned at the way my boobs swung around to and fro in front of his face, as he held me effortlessly over his awesome spike. “Well, Jiggles, ready to go again?”

All I could think to say was “Thank God it’s Friday,” and he pulled me down over his immense manhood.

I’m surprised the windows didn’t shatter from the squeal of insanely violent ecstasy that burst out of me. He was driving hard into me, my nipples overflowing his cupped hands, and as I rode I felt another soul-searing cluster-climax building up. I hadn’t even cleared my head from the first couple of dozen orgasms when I was building up for another blast.

And so I rode his big thick iron cock for hours, finally falling asleep from the sheer exhaustion.

I couldn’t help but be suspicious in the morning. Certainly there was one or two people in the Rosen family who’d truly enjoy the thought of me desperately horny for Bert’s dick. On the other hand, he did have long and intimate experience with feminine-style anatomy.

I showered to wash the…effects of last night’s sexual olympics off…Bert was just able to change himself into a clean shape. When I finally came out—there just weren’t any towels big enough to cover my rack—I saw he’d transformed into she—not Betty, but a mirror of me. She was busy building me a wardrobe, using the same morphing trick she’d used to get me the cheerleader’s costume.

I was finally overcome by curiousity. “You can just…just take clothes off, and then…”

She smiled, and a lacy diaphenous nightie formed over her body. “The thing is, Steve ‘fixed’ it so, yes, I can control my clothes at will, as well as my shape. No problem,” she said, peeling the nightie up off her…my incredibly curvy torso.

“And yesterday…when I changed into fishn—” I stopped, as she looked as if she were going to cry.

“Marcia, look, I am so, so sorry,” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling. “It’s j-just Steve likes the fishnet look, and I just changed—changed—”

“It’s okay,” I said, hugger her close. “I understand.”

That last statement was stretching the truth a bit, but I actually did see what had happened…Mr. Rosen had gifted Betty with the power to alter her shape and clothing at will. By wearing underwear that I had been transformed into…that had given Betty the power to alter me.

I smiled gently at her, and decided not to ask what would have happened if Betty had decided to just magically morph all her clothes away.

She smiled at me, and a white bikini formed over her. The bottom wasn’t quite a thong, but would left no doubt that I shaved my mound. The top had tits spilling out all over, and the cups left well over an inch of nipple exposed. “This is your formal bikini,” she said as she peeled it off, “The one you’d wear when you’re not putting the goods on display.”

“When I’m not putting myself on display,” I gasped, as she formed another, hot pink bikini over herself—just barely. This bottom was a thong, and didn’t have much more in front, either. The top was like the display case Lisa’d put me in last Saturday—instead of proper cups, the strings attached to collars that went around each boob, and which held strings of their own connected to cups that only covered maybe the outermost quarter of my huge boobs.

She laughed as she peeled off the latest scrap of alleged clothing. “This one is good when you want a guy to notice,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Yeah, I thought, he’d be hard pressed to miss watching me be arrested for indecent exposure. Lisa had prevented that, in her own special way, last weekend—but only because she’d wanted me to spend the whole day fucking and sucking.

The next bikini was a brilliant, striking red, The bottom, in total, actually was smaller than a postage stamp. To be fair, it did cover—just barely—over three-quarters of the slit. The top was another collar bikini—a double collar, and the cups never even reached the edge of the nipples, even when they were at rest.

Betty turned to me, the amazing twins of my own titanic tits kept the motion up for a while. “This bikini is…well, okay, it’s lingerie. I’ve worn this kind of thing to private pool parties, maybe a dozen people or so.”

“Wow, the other girls there must have loved that!”

She giggled. “What makes you think there were other girls there?”

She’d stripped out, and cocqettishly smiled at me. She dropped the teeny tiny excuse for a bikini in the drawer and changed into her usual Betty form—not quite as tall as me, not as busty—though any man not jaded by the Rosen’s magic games would see her as hyper-buxom.

“This side is yours,” she said, patting the right side of a dresser drawer with four rows of drawers on each side. “Get dressed, we’re going out today.”

I blanched. “Look, Betty, I’m still not…I’m kind of—”

“You’re going to have to get used to it,” she said. “You can’t just hide in here until Lisa decides to return your manhood. You’re just going to have to get used to going out, getting ogled, goosed, the whole nine yards,” she said firmly.

“But—”

“We’re going out,” she insisted. “Look, you’ve worn far less, and gone as an oral nympho in heat. We’re just taking a walk in the park.” I couldn’t escape her logic.

Nor, I realized as I looked through the drawers, could I find anything that didn’t carry on the tradition of Betty’s gleeful exhibitionism. I searched through for the most modest outfit Betty had for me: A T-shirt which only barely fit over my protruding rack, exposing me enough in front to show off how frilly and lacy my bra was. I had on the longest skirt I had—it extended almost a full three inches below my crotch. Betty’s idea of pants were so short-short that most swimsuit bottoms covered more.

Betty was quite content in a tube top stretched just a bit beyond what was permitted by law, over a thong bottom. And so Betty took me out, to get me aquatinted with being out as a superbusty blonde knockout…just in case…

I wasn’t too surprised to find I was more graceful than any woman with melons like mine could be…the downside was, when I walked, my perfectly round ass cheeks moved in ways that caused quite a few bicycle crashes behind us. The bikes in front of us were dangers to themselves and pedestrians. As big as my boobs were, all my bra could do was to tone down their more wild rampages. I still looked like prize watermelons were fighting to escape my shirt.

Betty was a bit smaller, but her tits were bouncing free and unfettered under her inadequate tube top. She truly seemed to revel in the attention every guy—and even a few girls—were giving us. I saw one guy gazing in shock as my tits rolled round and round as he pedaled steadily straight into a tree. “Now you know why I prefer walking here, instead of along the street,” Betty said with a giggle.

Finally we found a bench to sit and rest a spell, while a crowd of not-too-disinterested onlookers gathered. Before long, they were standing five and six deep around us, and I had unpleasant memories of a beach excursion just last Saturday…

On the theory that a moving target was harder to hit, we stood up to go, and as my mighty melons rolled forth, there was a resounding snap as my left bra cup burst, sending a mound of girlflesh cascading around, and giving the assembled crowd an impressive if intermittent view of my perking nipple.

We decided to head back before we were accused of inciting a riot. Along the way, a jogger who had passed us before was, by an amazing coincidence, pacing along, stealing appreciative sidelong glances at our incredible superstructures.

They were shouting “Show us your tits!!” by the time we got home. I was more than a little scared by then, having realized that almost every one of those men now yearning to fuck me was, in fact, strong enough to simply hold me down and take me, if he wanted.

Betty had quickly morphed into Bert, and stepped out to discourage our loyal fans. Stepping back in, he said “Boy, Jiggles, you’ve still got it!” sarcastically, playing with my boobs a bit. “The thing is,” she continued as I pulled the top off and peeled off the ruined halter, “It’s that I made those specifically with…extreme loads like yours in mind. For it to burst the very first day…”

She had seen what I’d seen, written in the tattered remains of my left cup:

Dear Marcia the Insatiable Cocksucking Slut,

    I promised not to transform your lovely, ultra-fuckable body, and you may rest assured, I won’t. You may also take my very solemn promise that our fun and games are far, far from over.

    When we left you in that form, you got to keep your own special ‘magic power:’ the ability to drink unlimited amounts of jism. You’ll need it.

    Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!

Lisa

Suddenly it felt very cold, and not just because I was standing there topless.

We discussed our options over a chef salad for lunch. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t any. Mr. Rosen rarely if ever disciplined his darling precious evil daughter Lisa, Betty told me. The only reason he interceded for me was to set up the opportunity to teach her to gender-swap. Making her agree not to transform me was as far as he’d go on my behalf…as for Lisa, asking her for mercy would only inflame the problem.

Betty was going to Mr. Rosen’s birthday party. We both agreed it would be a bad thing if I went, too. Betty suggested not leaving the house—which I agreed with whole-heartedly, and even mirrored my body again, to morph some clothes for me that actually covered me— “Just in case of emergency,” Betty said, leaving for the party as her usual female persona, though in an evening gown instead of a maid’s outfit—a see-through gown, but that was Betty…

I put on the pair of jeans she’d just ‘made’ for me. Skintight, tight enough to for my twat to show through, but they did cover me. The tops would be more of a problem, with my assets heaving and sloshing around, I’d look sexy in a burlap sack…

I’d just picked out a full-length, if rather frilly blouse, and was about to start the laborious process of packing my tits into a bra, when a dildo materialized strapped into my mouth.

Whirling, I saw Lisa standing there in a formal, full-length evening gown. Ken was there, too, in an old-fashioned tuxedo, greatly enjoying seeing me half-dressed like that.

“Go ahead, Jiggles, get them into your bra…if you can.”

I tried to turn around and continue, but…I couldn’t move! I gasped around the dildo, and realized I could still talk, but my neck and everything below was paralyzed. Lisa giggled at the sight of me standing there motionless—except, of course, the swaying of my giant tits.

“Ken, darling, would you be a gentleman and help the lady into her bra?”

Ken laughed at that, and kept chuckling as he grabbed hold of my right nipple and lifted it up. Using it as a handle, he started swinging my boob back and forth, before pushing it up into my cup. He took even longer manhandling my left boob, and then spent a few minutes tucking them in, patting them into shape and generally fondling them. He only stopped when Lisa growled “That’s enough.”

Lisa stepped up and said, “Oh you poor poor dear,” in a voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You haven’t sucked a dick all day!! No wonder you resorted to holding a dildo in your mouth!”

She smiled, sweetness and malice all in one. “Don’t worry, Jiggles, I’m here to fix all that!”

To Be Continued