Yet I was more and more convinced as I relished in the sensation of my dress swelling out against my new breasts, my skin pulling tauter and tauter, though, very quickly, it had to stretch too to contain my bigger chest. All that additional fat, after all, had to go somewhere, and I grunted softly in the back of my throat, relishing in every tiny sensation. From the brush of my dress over the top as I pushed against my bra to the aching need deep inside, the feeling of something being drawn from me.
If only the succubus would truly have taken me as her toy to overpower me with so many breasts and cocks and balls that I couldn't move... That would have truly been my dream, but there was only so much that I could do there. Just getting my impossible fantasy fulfilled, well -- that would have to be enough.
"Is that enough?"
My breasts were barely F-cups, at a guess, but I grinned, nodding encouragement. My bra strained over them, but my hands could run over, feeling the definition of my nipples, how they pushed out against the front of the bra, the fabric that, suddenly, felt so fragile.
But they weren't big enough.
"More... I'll tell you when to stop! And add more pairs! Under my normal ones!"
The pain of my bra stretching dug painfully into my back and I had to adjust my weight, huffing and panting as my centre of balance was thrown off. I didn't realise that having bigger breasts would be so awkward! Yet that was only the start of the awkwardness to come as the seams of my dress stretched and tore over the growing extra breasts especially, exposing more, falling forward from my shoulders as it became loose around me. I could have been modest about what was happening, but I clicked my tongue, a little hastily, against the roof of my mouth, and pulled the dress down, pooling at my hips.
I wanted to see what was happening to me too badly, running my hands wondrously over my breasts through the strained, plumped-out bra, the feeling of them filling out increasingly, as large as my head, exquisite. It made me want to do more, to feel more, even tweaking my nipples as they grew fat and swollen, all in proportion with the breasts. Even though it might have been slow, I knew that it was all because the demoness wanted to make sure I was okay with it, but if she was to hold up her part of the trade then it would all go off without a hitch anyway.
"Ohhhh..."
I moaned, half-dropping to my knees. It was not overwhelming, as she had said, but...oh. Oh, it was something different indeed, though my stomach rippled too, bulges appearing where they had never existed before. That was a different sensation entirely, something more being added to my body, two more pairs appearing beneath the top pair that I was used to. I didn't hide my groan, not as I ran my fingers over them. The time for embarrassment was long passed and if I truly wanted to get everything that I wanted from the succubus I would have to be completely open and honest with her. My body and privacy in that regard were the least of it.
"Are you sure that's not enough?"
I shook my head, eyes closed, revelling in everything. The bra was about to pop, the tightness of the straps and the back digging into my flesh, though I wanted it even more than before, so very much more. I didn't want to take the bra off, not even as it cut in, knowing that my growing body would take care of it for me. It stretched more than the fitted dress I'd been wearing (now hanging in tatters off my body), though that had been mostly destroyed by the multiple pairs of breasts pushing into existence.
"Oh no... Finish it!"
I could not easily describe how big my breasts were, but the extra pairs swiftly increased in size, plumping out nice and round with new skin as the stretch rippled through me, so that they were the same as the top ones. Heavy and dragging me forward as I knelt with my tits out, they layered down my chest, stomach and abdomen, leaving my crotch bare. Not that it was easy to see my crotch with each breast on its own ending up the size of my head, pulling down very lightly under its own weight, though they were still nice and perky too. The bra ripped through dramatically, a clip pinging off the back, though I didn't care, not as my largest and fullest pair of breasts spilt gloriously into the light.
I couldn't help but run my hands over them, bare for the first time as I relished in it, tweaking my nipples and practically climaxing on the spot. In the heat of the first transformation, I had forgotten my arousal, moaning, whimpering, my underwear soaked between my thighs. But it was there, heat prickling through my skin, tingling and aching deeper still, making me want to rock and shift my thighs just to get a hint more of it. My hands could not drop to press between my thighs, not with the dress in the way, but I still wanted to, feeling as if I could orgasm just from rubbing and caressing my breasts alone.
Yet it wasn't enough. Nothing but complete immobilisation, a massive, orgasming pile of horse cocks that was, at some point, my body, could be enough for me.
And I had to tell the succubus that.
"Mmm... Oh, that's so good..." I panted heavily, rubbing her breasts, not knowing which ones she wanted to caress at once. "More... I need more."
Sylvia clicked her tongue dubious against the roof of her mouth.
"More? Are you sure?"
But I nodded, wanting to show her, to tell her, to make it clear to her in the best of ways.
"Yes! My body... Oh, I need more, please, curse me, this is what I want..." I moaned, though it was hard for me to get the words out. "In the end, I don't want to even be able to talk! Please, be creative, do everything you want to me, transform my body into so many breasts that I can't move, just like the old tales, and horse cocks and balls... Curse me, make it so I can never go back to the life that I had."
Sylvia nodded. I understood her trepidation, but the problem there was that, well, she still didn't think that I wanted it. Maybe it would have been easier if she was less reluctant and the kind of demon that enjoyed causing suffering -- even if, in my case, it would not be suffering, but insane pleasure.
"You'll have to keep giving me some ideas, for now," Sylvia said slowly, though she, at the very least, seemed to be going along with it. "I know of the old tales and, indeed, I have known demons that liked to do things like that..."
"Yes..." I breathed, imploring her. "Only horse cocks though... So many of them, throbbing and ejaculating... Change my hands, all my fingers, cover them... Please!"
The succubus wrinkled her nose, but it didn't matter to me if she didn't want to do it. She had agreed and, at least from my perspective, it was not as if Sylvia had to agree to my fantasies. The magic wrapped around me again and I gasped as my hands ached and tingled. It was as if there were no more bones in them anymore, going liquid and droopy, though I couldn't help but reel from it, trying to rub them against my breasts as if I still had fingers.
"Do you want to stop?"
"Never! Make the transformations as awkward and unwieldy as possible, it doesn't all have to look as if it's typically erotic... It's to be crazy, out of one's mind, so kinky and depraved that...oh... Do what you will to me. Nothing is off limits within what we've talked about, so don't worry. This is what I want, I assure you. Go far, go all the way, so I am a blob of horse cocks and balls, breasts all over..."
Sylvia looked a little more convinced after that. Maybe there was some part of her magic that told her the truth about a person too, but I didn't have to worry about that. Not as my fingers ached and wobbled and firmed up again into cock-like shapes, though it was as slow as my breasts. It allowed me to revel in it, to allow every pulse and every throb to ache through deeply, moaning, whimpering, though I didn't think that I would have my voice for all that much longer.
My hands were useless, already, for anything but pleasure. Even I was shocked to find out just how sensitive they were -- was that really what it was like to have a dick? I could barely believe it, huffing and puffing, panting heavily, my chest rising and falling so sharply that it made my new breasts and the huge old ones too wobble and judder with every gulp of air I dragged into my lungs. I didn't even know if I would need air like that any longer, but there was a part of me, even then, that hoped I would not. That I could exist purely on orgasms, on cumming, on being a sexual being that did not exist in the world that I knew for anything other than one orgasm after the other.
