the Sorcerer’s Daughter

part 11

The story so far: Our Hero, once Mark Banyon, wealthy stockbroker, tried sexually harassing a young sorceress. He is currently serving as an intensely feminized sex toy for her father.

My mind was whirling at Lisa’s news, that they’d lied to Betty…so now she didn’t know I was still being kept here—and wouldn’t be trying to intercede with these sorcerers on my behalf—

Thoughts of Betty and how she wouldn’t be coming to my rescue were cut off as I was suddenly full size, kneeling before Mr. Rosen, smiling my same damnable simpering smile as I strained to get the end of his massive cock into my mouth. He smiled as well, as his magic sealed my lips to his dick and he started pumping cum into me by the pint. My tongue flew gently and delightfully over the head of his shaft as he kept spewing wad after wad into my mouth.

After an hour or so, he released my lips so I could lick him clean, and thank him—at length—for the privilege of sucking his dick.

Then I was again a miniature in Mr. Rosen’s display case, kneeling with my tongue as far up the ass of another girl as I could get. In the case I was immobile, incapable of moving a molecule. Outside, when restored, I was a puppet, moving and speaking only at Mr. Rosen’s direction. In either situation, I was completely helpless, unable to do or say anything on my own, only for Mr. Rosen’s entertainment. Betty had been my only friend, my only hope since being caught up in this nightmare, and again, now, my only hope of ever getting out of here. And, as Lisa so gleefully informed me, Betty thought I had already been released, and so she wouldn’t be coming to my rescue…

The next morning, giving Mr. Rosen his wake-up blowjob, I realized I was wishing that this was Bert’s dick I was wrapping my lips around!!

I had always been a straight, hetero male—at least, until I’d gotten on the wrong side of these wizards. Bert/Betty’s ability to change shape, and the way he enjoyed transforming himself into a she, had seemed bizarre, even repulsive when I first learned about it. Bert reveled in his ability to become female at will, and had even taken a job as the Rosens’ maid! But even sensing how I was felt about her variable sexual identity, she had helped me, pleaded my case to the Rosens…she had loved me. He had loved me—

Mr. Rosen’s cock gushed fresh hot jism into me, again and again in multiple wads. Again I found myself thinking of Bert. He’d used the power the Rosens’ had given him over me, yes, and made me suck his dick, too. But it had felt different with that playful little shapeshifter. Bert had truly cared about me, as a person, not just using me for a sperm receptacle. Mr. Rosen had used his magic to give me the ‘power’ to swallow unlimited amount of sperm. As another torrent of cum sprayed into my mouth, I realized preferring Bert’s cock was a sign of incipient homosexuality—no, I was a woman now—but felt like—

But felt like crying, even knowing I could only smile sweetly and make pleasurable gurgling sounds as I chugged Mr. Rosen’s sperm.

Frozen once more in the display case, I found my thoughts straying back to Bert/Betty again. Loving Betty was a no-brainer: A mind-bendingly stacked blonde with an angelic face and perfect hourglass figure, sweet and loving and compassionate. When she was Bert, a muscular six-and-a-half foot Incredible Hunk of a man…he was still as kind and gentle to me as the Rosens would permit…

Okay. I could love Bert. So what did that make me? It made me, I realized as Mr. Rosen came in for his afternoon pleasure, a captive sex toy.

Days passed…

And then Betty was here!! I saw her in front of the display case, looking carefully around in her skimpy little maid’s outfit, and then she opened the case and, after a twist and a turn, disengaged my tongue from my fellow statuette’s ass with an audible “pop.”

Still an immobile statuette myself, her hand was an invitingly warm blanket, covering me, protecting me. “I’ve got to sneak you back home. The remote control may be able to—”

“And where are you going, young lady?!?” Mr. Rosen demanded. Betty halted—she had no choice, I knew from my own experience—and dutifully handed me back over to Mr. Rosen. “Why were you taking my favorite cocksucker, Betty?” he demanded.

“Mr. Rosen, sir,” Betty started, and I could hear the tremor in her voice. “Marcia is—she’s not evil, she’s not like the dangerous creeps you usually catch to play with! She just got on Miss Lisa’s bad side—and Lisa’s obsessed now with hurting her for it—and Marcia doesn’t deserve all this!!”

Betty’s voice had risen to a defiant tone—not one that I’d take when dealing with this family. “Marcia has been punished enough. Way more than enough. I know you don’t like…interfering with your daughter’s games, but she does go too far sometimes,” Batty concluded.

I braced myself for the terrible, demeaning things he was about to transform the both of us into…and Mr. Rosen actually smiled. “Well, Betty, you and Lisa have always been rather…headstrong. I can see why the two of you are such good friends.”

And I was suddenly restored—still an overstacked blonde babe in a G-string and tassels, but I could move and talk on my own again!!

“But,” Mr. Rosen was saying, “Lisa was the injured party here—or, would have been. Remember, Marcia initiated all of this trying to pressure Lisa into bed. So, she’ll have the final say in the matter…”

“I’ll turn that slut into a toilet in New York’s Grand Central Station before I’ll let her go!!” Lisa’s eyes were flashing in a most dangerous manner. It had taken a half hour’s begging and pleading from Betty to soften Lisa’s position this far. I, of course, had no say in the matter, Lisa having wished a dildo strapped into my mouth on seeing me free from Mr. Rosen’s display case.

Betty pleaded, cajoled, begged and promised, while Lisa kept looking at me the way one looks at a bird dropping on their car. After a while, though, it became apparent that as much as Lisa loathed and despised me, she liked Betty even more… “Okay,” Lisa said, finally exasperated with the whole mess.

“You are a girl, now and forever. I’ve locked the change into you, now,” she said with an evil smile, “And I’m the only Mage on the planet who can unlock it!” I glanced over and caught the look in Betty’s eyes, and nodded my agreement: it didn’t seem very likely.

“Two,” Lisa continued, twisting my nipple savagely to make sure she had my attention. “Marcia the cocksucking whore will suck off at least twenty men every day, at Howard’s bar, as well as spend at least an hour on Bert’s shaft. If for whatever reason,” she turned to Betty, “You don’t feel like being Bert on any given day, Jiggles here will then suck at least fifty dicks.”

Turning back to me she said “Marcia, you are now Betty’s property. You really don’t deserve a friend like Betty, here, but if letting you go will make her happy, then…” she trailed off, obviously not liking the idea of me getting off so lightly.

“Bounce your jugs up and down if you agree, Sperm Bank,” Lisa said. My enormous rack was, as always, in constant motion, but Lisa got a giggle watching me jerk up and down in my chair to send my boobs bobbing up and down.

As Betty and I left, Lisa called out “Oh, Betty! Hurry up, she has to get her cocksucking in for today before midnight! You’ll want to play with her remote a lot, too, changing her and playing with her. Otherwise some…‘random’ effects could set in,” she concluded with a cheerful laugh that chilled me to the bone.

I was quiet on the drive home. No choice, as Lisa had left it to Betty to use her remote to remove my dildo gag, and Betty had left it at home, afraid Mr. Rosen would have known if she’d brought it to work with her. In fact, she explained, it had been the locator light on the remote that had led her to me.

“I was just so glad, when Lisa told me they’d let you go. I was kind of…afraid to go see you, though, because I didn’t want Lisa to…to take any more notice of you.” I shivered, understanding completely.

“But, I really wanted to see you, one more time, just to…to tell you that…even though we’re really from two different worlds, two different lives…I was hoping that we…we can at least be friends?”

I turned to her, seeing the love and hope in her eyes, and nodded my head ‘yes.’ She didn’t even laugh at the picture I made, with the dildo in my mouth, and I loved her for it.

As soon as we were home—I’d become accustomed to thinking of Betty’s house as ‘home—’ she used the remote to remove the dildo strapped in my mouth, and to try to reduce my gigantic tits to something I could carry around with me. They didn’t reduce much—the remote seemed a lot more willing to increase than to decrease my bust—but at least now their energetic swinging and swaying would only upset my balance, not actually drag me to the ground…if I was very, very careful.

With time running out Betty transformed herself into Bert, and I dropped to my knees to take his huge dick. Strangely enough, it was nowhere near as embarrassing or demeaning as sucking Mr. Rosen off…or anyone else…

I was going to have to march to make the quota Lisa had set for me—and I saw Bert getting ready to leave, too. “You’re coming with me?” I asked, surprised.

“No, Marcia, the thing is…I have a date tonight.” He explained, he wasn’t seeing anyone exclusively—he didn’t want to be exclusive, right now—he just knew several friends, ladies and gentlemen he enjoyed the company of.

He hit a button on the remote and dashed out. I saw the car pulling away as I left for my own rendezvous of the night, to avoid the Wrath of Lisa. My car was gone, of course. The Rosens must have moved it when the police finally realized they had a missing…person…on their hands.

Getting a cab was no problem, decked out in a skimpy, highly-revealing halter, skin-tight shorts and six inch heels. Convincing the cabby to take a blowjob instead of the cash I didn’t have was even easier.

At Howard’s Bar, my usual room was waiting. Everyone seemed very happy to see me—

As I sashayed into the little back room, I remembered Bert had offered to use the remote to, well, ‘change’ me so I could get through more easily, if not actually enjoy it. I thanked him, but declined. My mind was my own, after…after however many weeks, and it was the only thing of my own I still had. I wanted to keep it that way, even if it meant being in situations like…this.

An earnest, shaggy-looking young man came in and waved his dick around in my face. I smiled sweetly enough at him and obediently took it in my mouth. I closed my eyes and thought about Bert.

I made the deadline with several to spare by midnight, but the bar closed at one in the morning. I found that while my head and arms were mine to control, my ass just would not lift from my chair, not while I had men waiting to use me…like the biker waving his dirty prick in my face right now. All I could do was to grin and suck it.

I got back home by one-thirty. Bert was still out. I wandered into the kitchen, but wasn’t hungry after my trip to Howard’s. I slipped out of my hooker costume, used the toilet and showered, finally getting as clean as I was ever going to feel.

Blow-drying my hair I paused to look at all the pictures Bert/Betty had on the dressing table. Men, women…that Natalie from…from however many weeks ago…as I curled up in bed, I found myself wondering if that was who was enjoying Bert’s amazing physique right now…

Stop that, girl! I snapped at myself. You are just outrageously lucky to have a friend like Bert at all. She likes you, all those times she’s come to your rescue, he truly cares for you…just as he cares for all these others, I thought, crying myself to sleep.

The next morning I’d cleared the tear-tracks off and was waiting in a powder-blue nightie before Bert came home for a bite of breakfast before reporting to work. While he enjoyed leisurely eating breakfast and reading the morning paper I crawled under the table and had my breakfast at the same time.

He waited for me to have my mandated hour before changing into Betty the Buxom maid. We kissed good-bye, and then she hesitated just as she got to the door. She went back into her bedroom, and came out with my remote. “Might want to tidy up around here,” she said with smile, and suddenly I was also decked out in a tiny little maid’s outfit.

After she left I dutifully picked up around the apartment and vacuumed, trying to sort out my feelings. Looking at the paper, I saw it was Friday—my God! For almost five weeks I’d been held in Mr. Rosen’s display case, re-animated only to suck him off, and then returned to my degrading display…and it had been two weeks before that when they’d first emasculated me, transformed me into a pretty frilly plaything—currently a maid for their maid.

I could still remember being a man, though, and while no real magic was required to explain the magic hold that Betty had on me, I was wondering if they had tinkered with my mind—yet again—or, if these…feelings I was having at the very thought of Bert’s bodacious bod were the result of the physical change.

Yeah, that’s the ticket…after all, they’d left me in a female body…an extremely female body, I thought, looking down at my vast expanse of cleavage…maybe that’s why I get this excited, weak feeling between my legs when I—

I thought furiously about brake shoes, deficit financing, baseball and everything else I could think of to cover up the images parading around in my head. I tried to remember my life as Mark Banyon, stockbroker, financier and successful heterosexual. I tried very hard to imagine how that man would react, if he could see my nonstop fantasies of Bert rushing in the front door, ripping my clothes off and having me roughly, any way he wanted, right here on the floor.

Then, I went to change into dry panties and finished vacuuming.

Betty called at lunch time. She said we were going out tonight, and that I’d have to go get my ‘Community Service’ out of the way first. I found a halter I could (barely) avoid arrest in, even though the front said ‘LET YOUR FINGERS DO THE WALKING.” I searched through for the longest skirt in the house, and found one that actually came down over two inches below my crotch!

Well over fifty blowjobs later, I could finally make my legs get me up and out of their. Maybe Lisa might let me ‘credit’ blowjobs, to maybe take a day or two off—no, I realized, if I even suggested it, she’d just up my quota. And maybe turn me into a tampon. Then she’d really get nasty.

I took a taxi back home, trying to convince myself that it was perfectly natural, thinking of Bert when all those dicks were waving in my face. I almost convinced myself, too.

I made a pitcher of iced tea by the time Bert was home, gleefully dancing into his arms. For his part he was quite glad to have his arms full of wriggling horny girl. After a frenetic hour of mattress gymnastics, we ducked into the shower to get cleaned up again.

We had just gotten dried off when I was found myself in an absolutely stunning evening gown. The backless gown displayed my immense boobs by not really covering them with criss-cross sheets of pink chiffon so thin you could see my nipples crinkling, and was slit up far enough to demonstrate my pussy was still clean-shaven, and was the most demure and modest thing I’d worn since becoming a girl—

Bert had changed himself, now sporting a rather dapper tux. “I wanted to tell you,” he said with an apologetic look, “But I couldn’t.” As soon as I was out the front door, I saw what he meant.

We piled into the back of the stretch limo waiting for us, Bert and I joining Lisa and Ken, as well as Mr. Rosen and his date, a woman I recognized from Bert’s birthday party. I learned we were going out to celebrate Lisa’s formally graduating with her B.A. degree, as well as her mastery of the ‘Final Frontier’ of the magic arts. It turned out that Mr. Rosen’s date was one of the instructors, and even she congratulated Lisa on how completely her spell was encoded and unbreakable, locking me into femininity forever.

Mr. Rosen’s greeting was a civil enough nod, but then Ken asked “Hey Jiggles, with both those tits, is there room for all of us in here,” and he and Lisa cracked up over it. All during the ride to Domingo’s, one of the finest restaurants, and even during the meal, the two of them kept up a steady stream of wisecracks… “Maybe the waiter can bring a tray to rest those on?” and “I hope this doesn’t interfere with your sperm diet,” and “Jiggles, if you give the waiters your usual ‘tip,’ don’t block the aisle with it, okay?” and so on, all night.

Finally we were done, and back home. As I watched them drive off, I couldn’t help but notice the chauffeur, and the impressive tits her uniform put on display. I wondered if that used to be a guy until he cut one of the Rosens off in traffic or something…

As Bert was eagerly helping me out of my dress, another thought struck me: I must have my old male self buried deep down somewhere in this ultrafox I’d been transformed into, to notice a hot babe like that…and then Bert was playing with my nipples and I just melted into his arms.

As he gently carried me to the bed, Bert was very apologetic about the whole evening. I brushed it off, as best I could. I knew it wasn’t his idea.

“Bert, honey…there is something you could do for me,” I breathed in his ear as he held me close, his enormous cock hardening against my thigh.

“Anything, Marcia. Anything you want.”

“Bert…could you, please, change into Betty?” And right in my arms I felt him shrink, felt massive mammaries erupt from his—from her chest, as she formed into the breathtakingly beautiful woman I loved.

I drew back for a moment, glad that, if anything, my desire for her had somewhat increased when he became a she. I laughed from sheer delight, and bent down to suck one of her lovely erect nipples, enjoying the way she shuddered as the pleasure rippled through her.

After we’d both had our fill of bearded clam, we cuddled together, gently playing with each others tits. I was amusing myself, tracing a finger along the edge of her rosy melon-sized nipple, moving my finger faster and faster as it spiraled in and enjoying her short, quick inarticulate cries of pleasure. She lazily looked at me and said “Be careful how hot you get me, girl,” before my gentle fingering drew her back into a haze of sensual delight.

“I warned you,” she mock-growled, and threw herself on me—and suddenly I could feel a very real and very long and very thick cock sliding into me, blinding me with unexpected volleys of orgasms as the massive member slid up and down my clit…

Hours later, listening to the gentle sound of her breathing, I actually felt lucky, to be in this situation—as long as I could be with Betty. Even knowing I wasn’t going to be her one and only…okay, so I felt a little jealous of her other lovers…

But, any time, any way I could spend with her was heaven. It was even nice when she’d grown a male dick and…again, I felt that niggling little voice. Was I the kind of man who thought it felt ‘nice’ when a she-male fucks me? No, of course not, I’m the kind of woman who feels that way…maybe I should have asked for an appointment to see a psychiatrist…

They’d given Betty the week-end off, with instructions to ‘get used’ to using the remote on me. As I danced for her pleasure while she ate breakfast, I wondered if they’d tampered with her feelings any, turned up her sadomasochistic tendencies a few hundred degrees, or if it was just her wildly uninhibited, playfully perverted sense of fun that made her reduce me to an eight-inch doll.

She enjoyed seeing me strut around nude, in just earrings and six-inch heels—no, actually, she just wanted me used to them so she could get me started in seven-inch heels.

There was a button on the remote that made me an eager exhibitionist, so Bert tried that on me before my daily trip to Howard’s Bar, to make me less self-conscious of how I looked strutting around barely dressed. I came home undressed, barely half a minute before the police. That convinced Bert that it wasn’t such a good idea, but one look at the saucy way I waved my boobs around for him convinced him to keep the compulsion on until the next day, when I had to go out.

Monday morning I was considering the psychiatrist option, after my first appointment with my gynecologist. I thought being propped up in the stirrups like that was demeaning enough, until I was introduced to Mr. Speculum. Finding out why women always bitch about how cold it was only added insult to indignity.

The days passed…Bert/ Betty’s friends would drop by. A lot of them were into ‘alternative sexualities,’ as they say in the ’90s, and whether it was Bert’s friends or Betty’s, I tended to wind up in the role of slave girl.

And then there were a few friends who were privy to the magic games at the Rosens, and as the remote control was passed around I was the life/entertainment/slut of the party. Many of them had been…forcibly introduced into their world, like one of Lisa’s old tutors, who had spent a week as a mushroom, and a classmate who Lisa sincerely tried to help by adding a couple of feet to her bust, an inch every two or three days. One was a she-male stripper who had actually asked Lisa to make him grow tits…from the way s/he looked, Lisa had felt generous that day.

They actually laughed and joked about the transformations the Rosens had put them through, though of course I had to wonder about their reaction at the time. There was, truth to tell, a certain element of fun in exploring the outer limits of one’s own sex…and beyond. I could even, sometimes, allow myself the delicious thrill of enjoying being controlled, literally body and soul, by Betty…and, even, Bert.

Tony, my old accountant, especially liked to “just drop by…and while I’m here, can I play with the slut?” He’d known me when I was a man—and knew it was me inside this blonde bombshell. He was especially fascinated with the boob-growth button, as well as the one that changed me into an inflatable sex doll.

And one fine evening, Betty had just come out of the shower. I took it in my head to dance—no remote controlled compulsion, but just because she enjoyed it. She’d just slipped into a lacy pink teddy she knew I adored on her and sat on the bed to enjoy the show when we heard a small crash from the living room, and heard a man curse!

Betty was up and out in a flash, and I heard her cry out as I was dashing towards the doorway. I’d only just had time to remember a couple of news reports the past week of armed burglars breaking into peoples’ homes—and there was a man leveling a sawed-off shotgun at Betty’s head as she lay so still on the floor—

I charged out of the bedroom—or tried to. Top-heavy tits flailing everywhere, I went tottering over in my seven-inch stilettos. even as I saw the second man reach into his jacket—

Seeing another overly-busty blonde charging out at them must have made a hell of a distraction. I was able to reach the man with the shotgun before he turned back to Betty—I grabbed him and pulled on the gun as hard as I could, but could only pull it a few inches—Betty’s shoulder exploded in a splash of gore—

And my world exploded as the man put his weight into smashing the stock of the rifle into my face. I tasted blood from where one jagged fragment of tooth had ripped the hell out of my lip and was bouncing back up from the couch when the second man shot me. I felt a rib shatter, shooting searing pain through my chest.

Another two shots and pain ripped all the way through me—I couldn’t feel my hips and legs, and fell in a bloody, useless heap. I tried calling out to Betty, but could only cough up red foam as the man with the shotgun went over behind the couch to finish her off.

If velociraptors have nightmares, they’d look like what leaped up from where they’d left Betty’s shattered body. One nasty looking talon hit Shotgun square in the chest, hard enough I could see blood coming through on the back of his shirt, then the whole limb twisted, and Shotgun spasmed for a moment and dropped still.

Pistol was screaming bloody murder, and actually got off a couple of shots—that bounced off the horrors thick plated scales—before a viciously clawed pincer grabbed him by the throat. One shake and his head and body fell in different directions.

The thing that made the creature in “Alien” look downright cute and cuddly in comparison strode over to me on razor-taloned claws, kneeled and morphed back into dear sweet Betty, tears welling up in her big blue little-girl eyes. “Marcia, oh please please God no Marcia—”

I managed to croak out “Bet-Betty, I’m glad you-you’re—” and then I was drowning in red foam, I tried to cough but had no air to cough out and the room was fading down a dull, indistinct tunnel—

My ankle hurt as it hit against the leg of the couch. I blinked, wondering what had caused that dream and turned to struggle to get on my feet—

I noticed I was lying in a puddle of blood before I noticed I was a black woman now—same outrageous measurements, different paint job. Betty dashed over to help me up, still clutching my remote control. “You—we—had settings—different races—you know, for different kinks—” She was babbling wildly, just barely this side of hysterics, as I planted a deep and loving kiss on her.

Looking around at the damaged room and bodies, I felt a sudden chill—it hadn’t been a dream, I’d been shot and—

“I used the remote to—well, to turn you into a different girl…after our experiment with the, well, when I spanked you, and then turned you back—the thing is, I don’t think we can risk changing you back into your old body now…” She trailed off, following my gaze at the scattered carnage that had been our living room.

“Um, Betty, I kind of think we have bigger problems right now,” I said, and once the giggles started we just lost control, laughing insanely at the urban war zone we were standing naked in. Once she regained her control, she stepped over to the phone and hit the speed-dial.

“Hello, Steve? Listen, we’ve had an…incident. Yes…no, we’re okay…but…” She was saying, as the sirens got closer and closer.

Betty formed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt over herself, thumbing the remote to clothe me—in a see-through pink leotard, of course. If she was hoping to blind the cops with my headlights, it didn’t work. They burst in, freaked out over all the blood, and were starting to look rather suspiciously at the blonde and the barely-dressed black girl—

And then Mr. Rosen simply appeared—poof!—in the middle of the room. He turned to the cops, and said “Okay, move it along. Nothing to see here.”

And the cops simply smiled, and even apologized for the false alarm, and strolled out. Turning to us with a grin, Mr. Rosen said “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

The bodies and blood vanished, and then the damage, just before Lisa popped into being. “So, where’s all the emergency?” She asked her father with a knowing smile.

Her father wasn’t smiling. “I’ve made a serious mistake,” he fumed, angry with himself. “If they’d been able to destroy Betty’s head, like they tried, she’d have died on—”

“They tried to kill her?!?!?” Lisa was furious!!! I instinctively backed away from the enraged sorceress. “Once I get my hands on—”

“Been there,” Mr. Rosen said, pointing towards the corner at two rolls of toilet paper that hadn’t been there a minute ago. “They weren’t quite, actually soul-severingly dead when I arrived—close,” he said, grinning at Betty, “But no cigar!”

Lisa looked at the two rolls, and smiled. “So, they tried and missed—”

“No,” Betty said firmly. “Marcia here saved my life. If she hadn’t grabbed that guy who was going to blow my head off…” she trailed off, drawing one finger dramatically along her throat.

Then Mr. Rosen took her back into the bedroom, to ‘re-edit’ the shapeshifting magic he gave Betty, so that if any trauma should decapitate or destroy her head, her consciousness would be ‘saved,’ somehow, in her body. As they disappeared into the bedroom, I was watching for any flashes, any sign of—

My nipple was being jerked on, hard! I didn’t quite tip over as Lisa yanked me around to face her…as it sank in. They’d left me alone…with Lisa. Her eyes still burned with searing rage as she stared down at me, and I tried desperately to keep my fear from showing—

And she laughed, not a gentle, friendly laugh, not one I wanted to hear from an incredibly powerful sorceress who hated my guts. She pulled me closer by he savage grip on my nipple and said “Understand one thing very, very clearly: I am not going to forgive what you tried to do to me, what you’ve been doing to your staff all these years!”

I braced myself to change into…a bug, a tampon, another roll of toilet paper…

“But,” she continued, “Betty is good people…the best! And if you’re willing to take a bullet for her, well, maybe—maybe there might just be something half-way human and decent inside you.”

She let go her grip on my nipple, and gently patted my tit, smiling at the ripples it set running across both of them. “For tonight, Jiggles, you don’t have to do your ‘community service’ at the bar. Stay here,” she said, nodding at the closed bedroom door. “Be here for her!”

“Absolutely, Mistress,” was all I could say as Lisa walked over and picked up the former burglars, an imaginative and very nasty smile playing on her lips. I knew that smile, and I knew that very soon those two would be begging to be turned back into toilet paper…if they had mouths.

Good.

She turned to me, and smiled—the first genuinely friendly smile she’d ever given me.

“You did good, Marcia. Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said to the empty room.

******** EPILOGUE ********

I tossed the last mutual fund reports into the “To File” bin on my secretary’s desk. “Good night, Mr. Banyon,” she said in reply to my jaunty wave.

I was almost walking on air, now…six months ago, Mistress Lisa had transformed me back into the man I’d been—on a six-month probation, yes, but still, I was a MAN again!!!! I doubt if anyone really bought the story I’d made up about helping my brother track down his runaway son the two months after I’d disappeared without a trace, and not a few people in the office were making pointed suggestions about my overall mental stability…

But I was a man again!!!!

Two days after the incident with the burglars at Betty’s house, we were both summoned to the Rosen’s mansion. Lisa wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but…

I was a man again, on probation, but a man!!! The terms of the probation were simple: Every night I had to be back home by six o’clock—for my own good, as that was when I’d grow an enormous pair of tits. I would remain a she-male in frilly pink lingerie from six in the evening to six in the morning, and all day, weekends and holidays.

Now, though, the probation was over and, essentially, done with…aside from a couple of details. First of all, Lisa assured me, If my dick ever touched an employee of mine again I would be a buxom, bubble-headed jism addict for all the rest of my days. No appeal. No excuses.

Also, while we weren’t living together any more, I was still seeing Betty quite often, both social and intimately. Betty would, for all time, be able to order sex from me anytime she wanted, any way she wanted. And, of course, so could Bert.

Of course, Betty never needed any such magic to have her way with me. As for Bert…well, look, I do have a business to run. I just don’t have the time to spare worrying why I don’t mind sucking that one cock.

But tonight, I was free, wasn’t suddenly going to grow a heavy pair of boobs, and Betty had suggested we make an evening of it…even a weekend.

Driving to the restaurant she said to meet her, I idly noted the time. Ten after six, and not a trace of tits growing under my shirt. Betty had had me almost cum already, with her extremely suggestive description of me enjoying an obedient little slave girl tonight…

As far as whether or not I woke up hugging Betty or Bert…I didn’t care.

THE END