Gypsy Fortune Teller

Janey had done her research on gypsy ladies and knew, thanks to the internet, that they granted wishes, worked from outlandishly coloured and decorated tents within circuses and always turned up mysteriously when things were going wrong to deliver a moral lesson that would put any errant wish-maker back on the straight and narrow.

That was mostly why she was stood in front of a garish, outlandishly decorated tent in a quiet corner of the circus enclosure, nervously dry-washing her hands while a sleeping hippo the other side of a low barrier farted noisily and repeatedly.

The tent wasn't what she had imagined though. The fabric was a soothing, faintly office-like beige colour, festooned liberally with what looked like early nineties clip-art in complicated and baroque fashion. The sign itself was a chalkboard by the entrance covered in neat, eminently legible hand-writing proclaiming, 'Miss Fortuna's Consultancy -- Palmistry, Family Planning, Proofreading, Fortune Telling and Financial Advice"

It seemed legit.

/////

Clara Fortuna sat behind her small table and blew gently on her finger nails to puff away the fine dust left by the emery board. It was a quiet day at the office and she knew that the whole wishes and fortunes thing was going to be on ice until there was some rerun of a paranormal action/romance on the networks again. Sighing, she pulled a heavy tome labelled, "Spreadsheets for 2nd Tier Financial Analysis -- For Dummies" and pulled it open at her bookmarked location.

Pushing her glasses up her nose and squinting, Clara leaned in and began reading, her business-like ponytail tickling her neck as she absently adjusted her suit jacket to sit more comfortably. There was a rustle which she ignored, looking over "Integrated Formulae and Data Tables" as she hummed to herself idly and listened to the general low-level roar of the circus.

She turned a page.

"Ahem," a small voice breathed into the quiet.

Clara turned another page and idly raised a hand to point at a silver hotel-style bell, sitting dented and much-abused on the red velvet of the table cloth.

The ping was not as loud as one might expect, but Clara sat up, closing her book and turning around to put it on the low shelf behind her, the only other furniture in the tent apart from a single brightly painted stool. Facing her guest, she gestured amiably at the other seat and smiled a bright, professional smile.

"Miss Fortuna, at your service ma'am."

The girl opposite was mousey... really mousey, in every sense, but Clara was a seasoned practitioner and too long in the tooth to judge by appearances. Still, the customer was diminutive, pale, hunched and no great fashion statement.

Clara had to suppress an inward groan as she saw this scenario in her mind... this was going to be another, "Like [insert favourite actress/model], but hotter!"

She hated these ones.

/////

Janey pulled out her piece of paper and cleared her throat, looking up at the weird gypsy woman who looked like a solicitor or an accountant or something. She looked down again and scanned her list of Items That She Must Not Forget To Mention.

She frowned as she felt those lovely dark eyes on her, the horn-rim spectacles the gypsy woman wore magnifying her pretty eyes slightly.

"Ah," Janey hazarded, "you're a real gypsy, right?"

Miss Fortuna's lips thinned briefly, but she nodded courteously, "Yes, I am."

Janey nodded back, unconvinced, and scanned her paper again, desperately running through her mental checklist of Gypsy Things.

"Er, I don't see a crystal ball or anything..." she trailed off, feeling embarrassed.

Miss Fortuna frowned then, an eyebrow shooting up in pique, before turning to her low shelf and addressing Janey once more, an object in hand. The gypsy woman put it down with a heavy thump and leaned back, crossing her arms. It was a snow globe, inside of which was a cheery diorama of a deliriously happy otter wiggling it's way under the (miniature) Golden Gate Bridge to the legend, "Much Happening of San Francisco is Coolness!"

Janey supposed the glyph lettering in permanent marker adorning the dome of the snow globe was the Chinese equivalent of "surplus".

"Crystal ball," Miss Fortuna said tersely as Janey inspected it.

"Oh."

/////

Clara watched the girl (she had to be college age, but not much more) as she returned to her perturbed study of the rumpled list held in both hands.

"Can I have my wish now, Miss Fortuna?" she asked timidly.

"It's Clara to you ma'am," Clara purred, amicability returning, "what's your name?"

"Janey."

"What's your wish, Janey?"

"Are you sure you're a proper gypsy woman, Clara, you seem kind of different..."

Clara felt her face freeze in a rictus of a smile and took a moment to compose her response, her annoyance warring with the urbane civility she had cultivated as the CEO, secretary and sole staff member of Gypcorp.

"Janey, my parents and I both thought that a university education was no impediment to sufficiently good gypsy-ing and I have come to believe that my proactive, modern management methods have given my clients the quality of service and positive long-term outcomes that they appreciate and value."

/////

Janey sat there for a second, baffled by the corporate jargon and wishing that this attractive, sexy looking gypsy woman would just put on some silks, spray herself with incense and take this whole fucking thing seriously. Janey felt that this professional, neat looking woman was subverting the whole deal. Not even a silly accent in evidence.

"Ah, ok then..." she started.

"Go on," Clara prompted, a little sourly, Janey thought.

"I want to be big, strong and sexy..." Janey's voice quavered as she read the first few words on her list.

She saw Clara wince as the words hit home.

"What?" she asked, a frown clouding her features. This woman was so annoying!

"Look," Clara replied, hands raised placatingly, "are you sure you want to do this with a gypsy wish? An actual GYPSY wish?! I mean, as a for instance, it's going to probably cost you twenty-five bucks and you could get started at a gym, or get some Creatine, or go to a beauty parlour for that money!"

Janey looked at the woman, her jaw set mulishly, and decided to ignore the outburst.

"Big, strong and sexy!" she snapped, glaring at the other woman, before clearing her throat. "And I-"

"Well, look Janey, stop! You know when you say 'sexy', er, you do realise that, like beauty, sexy is in the eye of the beholder?"

Janey looked at Clara coldly and fought the urge to tut. The fortune teller was doing this all wrong!

"BIG AND STRONG AND REALLY FUCKING SEXY OK?!" she screeched, before continuing more normally, "ah-"

Clara shrugged and cut her off, face all injured nonchalance as she muttered, "Well, all I'm saying is that some beholders have very particular tastes... I'm talking downright odd, you know?"

Janey's growl was angry as she jabbed a finger at the other woman, skewering her attention with it and pointed emphatically back down to the crumpled paper.

"I'm not finished," she grated out angrily.

/////

Clara clapped her hand to her forehead and watched this girl carry on reading from her list, grudgingly respecting the iron determination while despairing of the boneheaded stupidity from her client.

Longer hair this, increased sensitivity that, bigger boobs this, more even teeth that, yadda yadda yadda.

"...and I want to be strong enough that no man... no bastard can take advantage of me!" Janey piped, her voice going raw with emotion for a second or two.

Clara winced again as she heard this. It always happened: the emotional core of the issue rose to the surface somewhere, the real reason behind an embarrassed, lonely trip to the gypsy tent. She felt so sorry for the girl then, but knew that sorry was no excuse for granting a stupid wish and she weighed in with her own words.

"You're asking for quite a lot with that last one, Janey, are you sure about this? I mean, it's pretty damn general actually, much more so than you'd think... like could you exclude the top five or ten percentile or something; you'd like it so much more..."

The mousey girl pinned her with a glare, saying nothing.

"I mean, look here Janey, you're getting a hell of a lot for twenty-five bucks here, you're pitching way high!" Clara admonished, feeling defensive as the glare remained, unwavering, "I just want you to understand what you're going to be asking for here, you've kept it kind of loose.."

The glare continued.

"I mean, 'sexy'," Clara paled as Janey's thin lip curled upward, revealing small teeth in a snarl.

"Come on! That's almost asking for trouble!" Clara flushed as she thought about all the 'sexy' things in the Futanari Palace folder on her laptop hard drive.

Janey's voice was icy as she replied, "Not only do I want all the things I asked for, including being super fucking sexy, I want to be stronger. Stronger. Than. Any. Hundred. Men."

The silence grew.

"NOOOOWWWW!!!" Janey screamed, red faced and beside herself with annoyance.

"Ok, well geez, obviously you know best," Clara muttered, "sheesh!"

/////

Janey trembled with fury as she watched the gypsy woman sag, evidently giving in.

She was going to get her wish, even if this screw-up had to send off in the post for it... she was due a gypsy wish and at least some malevolent cackling for this and she was paying good money for the privilege.

"Oh well, here goes nothing lady," Clara grated.

Then she hiccupped.

/////

Janey felt a warm wave wash over her, like a thousand lewdly sucking and kissing mouths, breaths moist with arousal and passion. Her legs seemed to piston her upright and standing without any conscious thought, a spinal reflex brought on by the sensations burning through her.

She through her arms and head back and stuck out her thin chest, tiny body quivering with power as she inflated like a balloon, a geological tide of lava hot muscle filling her up from the inside out as she grew bigger, harder and thicker, her proportions soon Amazonian, her mousey straight hair curling luxuriantly as she tore through her clothes like a brunette Wonder Woman. She felt a gush of fluids erupt from her dripping slit as the growth forced her into orgasm, her inner and outer muscles clenching and flexing as she writhed through her wish.

It wasn't stopping though, but speeding up, her breasts inflating before her eyes and slowly crowding out her view as the slabs of beef that were her pecs swelled and grew deeper, covered in sharply ridged striations.

Janey was getting huge, and she loved it.

Her body was getting hotter and hotter, and she let out a purring, feminine growl as another orgasm hit her like a train, her knees wobbling before they locked, thighs each bulging out to the diameter of the little table she had been sitting at as she flexed. The sensations of her cum were different this time, but she couldn't see as she looked at the jiggling wall of her own tits and pecs. She could only see Clara bring her hands up as a spume of white liquid dowsed the gypsy woman.

The growth was slowing now, Janey panting as a hundred mini-orgasms seemed to batter her mind, but still the heat in her loins grew and she luxuriated in it.

She was so fucking horny.

She flexed an arm, peaking a bicep much bigger than her own head and growled in sexual completion, eyes riveted on the shining flesh that rose to slap against her own bounteous breasts...

/////

Clara was feeling... warm.

In front of her was a bronzed, muscular brunette with a body that looked like it could lift battleships, her huge, imposing mass blotting out all signs of the other side of the tent, the light through the unlaced flap and even dimmed the glow from the lantern slung from the top bracket. She was gorgeous, every bulging, straining muscle, every sweep of tanned flesh setting sparks off within the young gypsy woman.

One curving sweep in particular caught and held her attention as it bobbed hypnotically between the straining, pillowy flesh of those unreal breasts. That penis... no, not penis... that cunt-splitting fuck log was like art to Clara.

She hadn't been kidding when she warned Janey about "sexy" and what it could mean, and she certainly hadn't been expecting the sheer magnitude of the transformation, even then. Clara's weeping pussy wasn't under her control now, her nipples erect and similarly hijacked by a spinal reflex arousal that raced through her like a fire.

She'd always enjoyed this part when the clients had asked for sexy, the wish pulling out a bulging shaft in every occasion that horrified and shocked the women before lust took over. She'd enjoyed riding numerous iron-hard girly dicks in the secluded confines of her tent. This was different.

Janey seemed to glow with the joy in her transformation; every bit of that, including the cock, seemed to reinforce the joy on that freshly beautiful face. It was Clara who was shocked.

The sheer size of it intimidated the gypsy woman in a way she had never experienced.

"Oh, fuck you're hot..." Clara husked.

As the huge helmet-like glans was pushed forcefully against her face, leaking pre-cum and smelling of arousal and the promise of pleasure, she reflected that sometimes honesty was not always the best policy.

/////

Janey thrilled to the sensations of her new body, her new life as she ground the thick prong that had sprouted from her womanhood into the face of the gypsy woman. The motion was slow, sensual and utterly domineering as she hypnotised Clara with her new meat, mashing the throbbing glans into the soft flesh of the other woman's cheek.

Shuddering, she could feel the pent up frustration leaving her with every liquid blort of fragrant pre-cum that slapped into the pale skin of the gypsy, could feel the outmatched struggles turn into something more sexual as full lips began to slurp greedily at the issue from her cum-slit, the soft tongue of the other woman probing her urethra and slowly, sloppily driving her wild.

She wasn't mousy any more; she wasn't small or weak or frail and she was...

Sexy.

Hot. Sizzling. Freaky. Amazing... Hung.

Janey felt a newly full and lush lip draw back from her teeth in a sneer of complete sexual dominance and purred with lascivious glee as she bent forward, heavy breasts smooshing around her throbbing cock-log. She gripped the beautiful Clara's lapels and, biting her bottom lip raunchily, reared up and back, her arms and wing-like lats flaring outwards as the gypsy woman's top and bra exploded off of that smooth, creamy flesh, exposing the fertile curves so artfully accentuated, even as they were hidden away.

There was a choking sound and Janey's eyes snapped to Clara's face. There was a problem.

The convulsive surge of Janey's rearing upper body away from the gypsy beauty had forced an equal and opposite motion. From her hips. The giant power-futa could feel her muscles bunching as she resisted the urge to drive forward into the wet warmth that now enveloped the end of her cock. The wet warmth, in fact, which was Clara's neck, mouth and throat-flesh stretched almost inhumanly wide to admit the prong of the century into her face.

/////

This was hell, but it felt like heaven as Clara gagged and choked and dribbled frothing gobbets of saliva around the cock spearing her mouth and throat. She could feel her pussy juicing lewdly, frequently as her libido creaked into overdrive, her lusts assaulted by the model gorgeous slab of muscle-futa head-fucking her.

Clara knew she was... kinky. It wasn't that she didn't like handsome guys, or even sometimes pretty girls, but the idea of a dick-chick hardwired her brain and shot lighting into her clit every time. She didn't want to be loved, respected or admired by these imaginary futa women, she wanted to be used. She wasn't a normal woman playing a submissive game, or some kind of stupid, drooling slut; she was educated, intelligent, magically gifted in a way few people could hope to understand and very capable.

She was just twisted.

Her hands clapped onto the iron hard flesh of Janey's hips and struggling, the gypsy woman hauled with shaking arms, sliding an inch closer to the impossible root of that massive member. The enormous futa didn't even move, the glittering green eyes of the monstrous woman intent and narrowed to slits as she watched Clara feebly try and impale herself further.

Clara's eyes were feverish as her neck muscles spasmed and did everything they could to disgorge the invading fuck-flesh, the small muscles overpowered by those in the fortune teller's arms, holding her in place.

She was paralysed by lust, just strong-willed enough o ignore her body's efforts at self preservation, but not physically strong enough to stuff any more cock log down her face. She moaned and screamed in frustration, the sounds muffled, her fingers vainly seeking to dig into rocky glutes and find extra purchase to ingest more dick. Eyes watering, slobber flying, the gypsy woman gave up and tore at her clothes as the heat built inside her.

Her generous breasts were already bouncing free, unfettered and capped with hard, long nipples that quivered with the need for attention. She found her waistband with scrabbling hands and the skirt zipper broke with an audible snap as frantic fingers pawed at the garment and Clara lay there, bent over and impaled on a huge cock, clothed only in her stubbornly tight panties and the tatters of her dignity.

There was a desperate slurping noise as Janey moved once more, the first time in several long seconds, the world darkening for Clara as arms the size of sides of beef blocked out the light. The gypsy woman moaned in pain and pleasure as two strong hands gripped her panties and lifted her hips, her own body weight now slowly driving her down Janey's monster dick.

With no effort at all, the huge futa simply ripped her hands apart with blinding speed and pushed her cobbled hips forward, pulverising the troublesome panties and leaving the sopping mess of Clara's overheating cunt exposed to the cool air.

Clara barely noticed.

Her nose was pressed hard against Janey's rippling, powerful belly and another foot of dick was stuffing her out like a slobbering fuck-puppet. Janey's satisfied groan indicated menacingly that this was all going to some kind of plan.

/////

Janey reached down and gripped Clara's face by the chin, holding those sultry, exotic features at the root of her member before slowly dragging her hips back and away from the stuffed woman, inch after inch of slobber covered cock looming into view. The monstrous futa grinned as the elastic pressure of those widespread lips encompassing her cock caused the gnarly veins to squirm and shift under her dick-flesh, resuming their normal, comfortable positions again after the tight squeeze.

Idly, Janey rammed her hips forward again, burying over a foot of slowly cooling dick back into the warm oral embrace. She watched, entranced, as Clara's body shook to the motion, the stillness in the tent replaced by the relaxed rhythm of throat-fucking the gypsy woman. It felt incredible for the mammoth hermaphrodite, the effortless power of her new body... she could break this woman; beat her senseless with sheer, raw sexuality and power.

She didn't want to break her though... she wanted to take her.

She wanted to own her little gypsy bitch.

"You like this, don't you Clara?"

The gypsy woman writhed, her thighs grinding together insistently, even as the flesh stretching her neck massively held her bent over and effectively immobilised. Janey's voice had even changed to a rich contralto, from it's girlish squeaking and the effect it had on Clara was obvious.

Janey prodded another inch or two into the other woman, her tummy muscles bunching into hard balls of power before relaxing again.