So my muse got horny again and this is the result. I kind of like revenge stories, and while this isn't exactly one, it's similar. Enjoy!
In case it wasn't obvious, this is a sequel to my earlier story, One Night Out.
Once again, all comments and feedback are appreciated!
--
I rested back on the sofa, yawning. I had had a looooooooooong day yesterday. Rick and Maegan had lent me out to a few of their friends, and I was still recovering from the marathon gangbang that had lasted most of the day. Two guys and a girl...the dudes had taken me in all my holes while the chick licked me out, and when they had gotten tired of that, the girl had put on a strap-on and did me doggy style while the guys watched and jerked off in the corner. It had been fun, but tiring.
As I flipped through a magazine that someone had left on the dresser, I rubbed my tummy absently. This was my sixth, and while I had gotten used to being preggers by now, it still took a toll on me. Swollen feet, morning sickness (not too bad nowadays, thankfully) and those strange cravings...oh well, this just came with the territory of being a sex slave. Didn't really have much choice, so I just went with the flow. At least the sex was good.
The door slammed open and Maegan stormed in, her face as black as storm clouds. I looked up in surprise. While this wasn't the first time the witch had gotten angry - she and her boyfriend had the occasional fight, which usually ended up with things being thrown and then wild makeup sex on the sofa (the same one I was using...which explained how the leather got all spotty) - this was different. She was royally pissed, and it showed in her furrowed brows and angry frown.
Rick came into the living room to see what the fuss was about. "What's wrong, sweetcheeks? Spell went wrong on you?"
"Something much worse. I lost a bet."
"What kind of bet?" asked her boyfriend.
Maegan heaved a heavy sigh. "You know Sylvia?" I did. She was one of Maegan's witch friends, a tallish and thin woman with a hawk nose and cruel smile. No tattoos, but enough gothic clothes to make the late Amy Winehouse jealous. Maegan and her often drank together, and often got me to eat them out after their little tete-a-tetes. She was a little tarter than Maegan...apple to the other's cider.
"We both got drunk, see? And after the fifth drink we wanted to see who could do five more without passing out. I knocked out first. Loser had to do whatever the other wanted."
Rick whistled. "Not the best of terms to have a bet on."
"You're telling me! But we were drunk. Haven't you ever been drunk before?"
"Well...yeah. So what happened? What did she want?"
Maegan sighed again and shot me a dirty look. I looked back in all innocence. Me? Where did I fit into this? I was just an innocent bystander!
"She wanted me to become a bimbo fuckdoll like her."
I was both surprised and angry at what Maegan said. What a request to make! I mean, I knew that these witch types were twisted, but I thought they only took out their perverse desires on other non-witches.
Also, what did she mean by bimbo fuckdoll? I wasn't a bimbo fuckdoll. Sure my daily routine consisted of sucking cock and eating pussy and getting reamed six ways from Sunday, unless it was Sunday in which case I went down to the nearest bar to pick up (or more likely, be picked up) by a handsome guy who would then bring me home and...ok. Maybe I was a bimbo fuckdoll after all.
"Whoa. So what did you say?" asked Rick. He seemed to be taking all this in stride. I guessed he had seen weirder stuff in his time as Maegan's boyfriend.
"What do you think? It was the terms of the bet. I had to agree. Also, no magic for a month. Interferes with the process or something."
"So...when is this gonna start?" Was it just me or did Rick seem a little eager? Maegan must have caught a little of his tone and shot him a glance that would freeze water.
"Tomorrow. She's gonna bring me back to her place to cast the spell. And don't you look so smug about it!"
--
I woke up the next morning to see an even angrier Maegan on the sofa, doing her nails...except that Maegan never did her nails. Never before the spell, that is. Her breasts were already bigger, and I could see that her eyes were done up in cat's eye eyeliner that was so thick that it made her look a little like a panda. Sylvia had weird tastes.
I carefully avoided her as I went about getting my breakfast - were we out of cereal? - but Maegan glared daggers at me when I sat down to eat.
"I know what you're thinking. Serves me right, right?"
I looked quizzically back at her. Actually I hadn't been thinking that at all. I had been thinking about how hot she looked, and how the black nail polish she wants putting on contrasted with the blond of her hair, and just how sexy she would be when this was all over. Okay...maybe I was a liiiiiiiiiiiiitle smug. After all, she was the one who had turned me into this. It was nice to see her get a taste of her own - or someone else's - medicine.
"Who, me? No, not at all! But those nails look great on you!" I just smiled innocently and ate my cereal, leaving Maegan to fume over her long talons - had they grown too?
That was just the start of things. Over the next few days her breasts grew to be about the size of mine, and I heard loud complaints from the bedroom about how she was spending a fortune on bras. Her hips widened and butt swelled much like mine, but here was where Sylvia changed it up a bit - instead of giving her a bubblebutt like the one I had, the other witch instead changed her friend so that her ass grew until it was a rounded cushion the envy of any girl in a rapper video.
Sylvia also insisted she do up her hair in twin pigtails, and as per the terms of the spell she had no choice but to agree. The little-girl look they gave her was greatly at odds with her scowling expression, but maybe that was the point? And they did bobble about most enticingly when she was getting fucked, which was often. Because like with me, all those changes came with increased horniness. I got used to see Maegan and Rick go at it on the kitchen table, in the living room, and in the bathroom, practically the entire day. Hey, she was lucky Sylvia wasn't renting out to others like they did to me...yet.
The changes seem to make everyone happy except her. Time that Maegan was spending fucking was time that she didn't have to think up strange torments for me, and Rick didn't seem to be complaining about his girlfriend's new curvier body. After a week or so - by which time Maegan had begun to resemble me more than a little - Sylvia upped the ante and started decorating her friend's body as well.
Now each time to went to Sylvia's house she didn't just come back with another cup size - she got more tattoos and piercings as well, until her entire body was practically covered with them. A wyvern on her black, flowers all over her plush behind, unicorns on her legs...she had more than me! Rings through her lips, nose and belly button, but nothing for her nipples...Sylvia was exercising restraint in that area. Or maybe she was just saving it up for the next month. You could never tell with these witches.
I'll admit it - it was strangely exciting watching Maegan change. Turnabout was fair play, and even though I wasn't meteing it out, it was still kind of nice to watch. How Maegan got angrier and hornier, and bustier, and curvier...and was powerless to do a damn thing about it. Watching her curse and swear in front of the mirror each day, I kind of got why these witch types transformed others into sex slaves. It was kind of fun!
Revenge was sweet...but not as sweet as Maegan's cunt. When Rick was busy, her out-of-control libido had her turning to me. While our bodies weren't exactly the type, I had been a bimbo fuckdoll (to use her words) much longer than she had, and so I knew just how to caress her overfull breasts to get her juices flowing, and how to finger her to screaming orgasm after orgasm. We had had sex before, but she was a LOT more fun to play with her new curves. I owed Sylvia a drink. Except that I wouldn't want to get drunk and under her thrall - I'd seen where that went.
--
After about a month, Sylvia did what I thought she was eventually do - start loaning out her friend to random strangers. Man, with friends like these, who needed enemies? Maegan began to spend evenings on her phone, coordinating random hook-ups (either than, or sit on the couch doing her nails and scowling) which invariably ended with her stumbling back into the house the next morning, exhausted and dripping cum from all her holes.
Rick just watched the proceedings with a shit-eating grin on his face. Forgot friends like these - with boyfriends like these, who needed...ok, my metaphor was breaking down. But I wasn't the only one who thought his behavior a bit weird. Maegan took him to task over it one evening.
"Don't just stand there! Go talk to Sylvia about this!"
"What would I say? I'm not a witch. And a bet is a bet. You've got that whole sworn agreement thing between witches, right? That both of you have to abide by any pact, lest you be cursed come midnight or something...you've told me about it."
"Well, yeah. There is that. But the least you could do is be nicer about it!"
