Transformations Naughty Vs Nice Ch 01

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Playlist

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"Deck the Halls," Tarja

"Porn Star Dancing," My Darkest Days

"We are Chaos," Marilyn Manson

"Empire of the Sun," Edenbridge

"A Place in Heaven," Thomas Bergersen

"Stay," Thirty Seconds To Mars

"Sleep," Poets Of The Fall

"The Little Things," Toto

"Mistress for Christmas," Halestorm

"Remember Me," Thomas Bergersen

"Shine," Edenbridge

"This is War," Thirty Seconds To Mars

"Last Day Under the Sun," Volbeat

"GET UP," Shinedown

"Until the End of Time," Edenbridge

"Rocket to the Moon," Thomas Bergersen

"On Top of the World," Edenbridge

"Together," Tarja

Club Dryden

Dryden, New York

10:45 PM

Loud techno music pounded in Elaine's ears and increased the effects of the molly, so she wasn't really surprised when Santa Claus sat down across from her at the small table.

She had enough presence of mind to look around for her friends, but they were somewhere in the sea of people on the dance floor.

Santa was big but not like the rosy cheeked fat man in the old illustrations - he was tall and broad across the shoulders and chest. Simply put, Santa was ripped.

He smiled at her behind a close trimmed white goatee.

Santa was wearing a red leather outfit with white fur trim complete with a conical leather hat.

"Hello, Elaine," he said over the roar of techno.

"Hi, Santa." She was staring at the bulging biceps beneath Santa's leather sleeves. He looked like he could just stuff her under his arm and carry her out to his sleigh.

"Do you know why I'm here tonight, Elaine?" Santa asked with a twinkle in his eye.

She shook her head.

"I've been making my naughty and nice lists, Elaine. Guess which one you're on?"

Elaine started to giggle. She wasn't sure why she was giggling but she imagined it had a lot to do with the molly and three Tequilas buzzing around inside her. "Um... naughty?"

Santa bellowed with laughter and nodded. "Oh, yes, Elaine. You are a naughty, naughty girl."

"Oooookay," Elaine said and twirled a lock of her blonde hair on her finger.

"You know what that means, Elaine?"

"No presents?"

Santa shook his head. "Oh, no, Elaine. Santa's got a really big present for you. He loves his naughty girls. Would you like your present, Elaine?"

***

Santa really was big enough to carry her out under his arm.

She had her legs thrown wide apart.

Santa's hands held her waist tight as he stood, his leather pants around his ankles.

Her pussy slid up and down on 'Santa's North Pole' as he jokingly called it.

He had ripped her mini-dress up the front and back so she could spread her legs as far as she could - she needed to because the 'North Pole' was thicker than her wrist and longer than her forearm.

Santa seemed intent on pushing his cock all the way up into her chest.

She couldn't do anything other than drool and moan as he fucked her hard, her back against an old red Chevy van. The metal was cold against her backside and snow swirled down from the night sky.

He lifted her up and brought her back down on his long dick over and over and over. She lost track of her orgasms.

She felt like an object, a sex doll Saint Nick was using.

That thought turned her on and she came again.

Santa laughed and a cloud of steam rose in the cold air. "Fucking whore."

"Ummm, yeah! Oh, fuck."

"Jesus, would you cum in that little slut already? We got shit to do," Mrs. Claus said as she leaned on the side of the van smoking a cigarette.

She was a knockout and dressed in a red leather dress of her own - Elaine had been sure Mrs. Claus would be upset to find her husband fucking a strange girl, but she seemed more annoyed with how long Santa was taking to nut inside her.

"Shut up, bitch. Do I complain when you're getting off?"

Mrs. Claus rolled her eyes. "We got a schedule to keep. Demonica is gonna be pissed."

"Shut up! You're killing my hard-on!"

She flicked the cigarette on the pavement. "Don't worry, baby. I know how to get it back."

Then Mrs. Claus grabbed the back of Elaine's head and pulled her close. She kissed Elaine hard, blowing acrid smoke into her lungs and then probing deep in Elaine's mouth with her tongue.

"Fuck, yeah!" Santa groaned and fucked Elaine harder.

It wasn't the first time Elaine had kissed a girl, but it was the first time she Frenched Mrs. Claus while Santa fucked her brains out. It was a strange experience having group sex with mythical characters.

Santa groaned and Elaine could feel him pumping deep inside her.

Mrs. Claus took a step back and smiled. "Yeah, get all that baby batter up in there. Knock the little bitch up."

"I... I'm on the pill," Elaine moaned as the cum surged inside her.

Santa laughed as he held her still with his cock deep inside. "Don't matter, slut. You got a litter inside you now."

Something was very wrong. Elaine thought it would probably be a good idea to go back in the club and find her friends.

But she didn't put up any resistance as Mrs. Claus opened the back of the van and Santa tossed her inside on a foam mattress.

There were other girls in the van, and they looked at her with dazed expressions that matched her own. A few of them were very, very pregnant.

Santa leered in at her. "Welcome to the family. Time for a road trip, sluts."

***

The Next Afternoon

Near the Greek Peak Resort

Upstate New York

"Today marks the one year anniversary of a dark day in Central Minnesota," the reporter said over the car radio. "Over eight-hundred people disappeared in a single night from the Galleria Minnesota shopping mall. Those who didn't vanish have no memory of what happened that fateful night. Many people now believe the horror of Galleria Minnesota is connected to the Bimbo Flu and Futa Virus running rampant in every major city..."

Patricia Combs pressed the station scan button on the steering wheel and the station changed to classic rock. 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree' came on and Patricia smiled. She had heard enough bad news. The world was a scary place now with constant government warnings to avoid all physical contact with strangers.

Avoiding contact wasn't hard to do in rural Upstate New York. The nearest cities were Ithaca and Cortland but, here at the base of the ski slopes, even those small cities seemed a thousand miles away.

She looked up at the mountain and the Greek Peak Resort. It was magical to live at the foot of the mountain when the snow was a thick blanket, and the trails were lit up - the slopes themselves looked like a giant Christmas tree.

The car Bluetooth beeped, and she pressed the answer button. "Hello, Professor Combs," she said with a smile.

"Hello yourself, Mrs. Combs. Out shopping?" Drew said over the car speakers.

"Just finished up at the Wholesale. I got enough food to feed an army."

"Well, we'll most likely need it. College kids eat a lot - they also drink a lot, so remind me to lock up the booze."

She shook her head. "Great. We're spending Christmas with seven college kids who are going to eat us out of house and home and drink everything in sight. Remind me why I agreed to this again?"

"Because you're a wonderful person who didn't want to see these kids spending Christmas alone in a dorm," Drew said.

The students were in his biomechanical engineering class.

They were city kids whose parents didn't want them coming anywhere near the city now that just touching the wrong stranger could turn you into a raging nymphomaniac or worse, a futanari. The cities were struggling under the Bimbo Flu and the Futanari Virus with entire sections of Manhattan, Chicago, Boston - every major city - designated as no go zones.

When Drew mentioned six of his students couldn't go home for the holidays, Patricia had suggested he invite them to their house for Christmas.

"Oh, honey? When you were listing my students' vices? You left out the fact they will also most likely be fucking like rabbits."

"Shit. That's right. Hungry, drunk, and horny. And on our good sheets," Patricia laughed.

***

Greek Peak Resort

Willy stared into Honey's eyes and fell in love all over again. They were twin blue pools set in the face of a living doll. He reached out and stroked the honey blonde hair - he had given her the name. Honey.

That was the day he had gone down to the dock in Havana. He didn't normally frequent the whore auction. It had many names: the bimbo bizarre, the slut store, the pussy parade. The ships came in loaded with newly transformed from all over the world, all genders ready to be added to a Whoremaster or White Witch's coven.

The buyers had 'points' - these points built up over time or were awarded by the Church for services rendered.

Willy had a lot of points built up that day. He had been a Whoremaster for months, but he had never taken anyone into his coven.

Yes, he knew he was part of the plan to save the world.

Yes, he had the enhanced sex drive common to all the transformed.

But the thought of going to that auction and bidding on someone filled him with disgust. He wasn't alone in this. He knew many Whore Caste considered the entire spectacle to be barbaric.

He wasn't sure why he had stepped into the dockside warehouse on that bright sunny day. He had stood with the crowd of upper echelon Whore Caste as the newly transformed were led onto the stage one after another.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was loneliness. He couldn't remember.

Then they led her onto the stage.

A dazzling smile and those eyes that seemed to look through him - like two searchlights from some lighthouse that cut through the fog and found him.

He already had his hand up to bid before the auctioneer, a leering Religious Caste Bishop with eyes as black as coal, could even finish reciting her statistics.

Willy didn't care about her height or cup size. He completely missed the words like 'traumatic transformation', 'fear of fire', and 'complete brain re-write'.

Another Whoremaster bid against him.

Willy looked at him and mouthed the words,

Please let me have her

.

His competition stared at him for an instant. Then he smiled and nodded and did not bid again.

When the gavel fell, Willy went onto the stage and took her hand. It was small and warm in his own. "What's your name, honey?" He asked.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I don't have one."

"What?"

"I don't have a name. What's yours?"

"I'm Willy." He ran his fingers through her hair. "Honey. I'll call you Honey."

She nodded. "I like that name, Willy."

In the present, Honey turned her head to the side and smiled. "Where are you, Willy?"

Willy shook his head. They were sitting on the bed in their room in the ski lodge. "Just remembering the first day we met."

"I like that day," Honey said.

"Me too," Willy said. Havana and home felt like a million miles away. He felt like a fish out of water at this upstate New York ski lodge.

But at the end of the day, he and Honey were soldiers and soldiers went where they were told. He dragged himself out of the past and focused on the present. "Okay, let's go over it again."

Honey nodded.

"Where are you going?" Willy asked.

Honey bit her lower lip. "I walk down the slope and find cabin 159. There'll be a party going on - I love parties, Willy."

"I know you do. What do you do when you get there?"

"I invite myself inside." She frowned. "What if they don't want me at their party, Willy?"

Willy fought back a laugh. Her Street Whore curves were stuffed into a skin tight pink latex 'snow suit' that was unzipped almost to her navel to expose her amazing cleavage. Underneath the outfit, Honey was naked other than her nipple clamps. "Trust me. They'll love to have you come to their party. What are you going to do at the party?"

"I'm going to have fun!"

"Yes, you will. But what are you going to do while you have fun?"

She gave Willy a sly grin. "I'm going to get to know the people at the party. Maybe play with a few of them. Then I'm going to pick out eight of them for transformation."

"Very good. Now, after you've picked them, how do you transform them?"

"Umm, I get them alone and press a capsule thingy against their skin."

"Show me the capsules."

Honey opened her pink purse and pulled out a small rolled up piece of fabric. She laid it out on the bed.

Ten plastic capsules were stored in pockets sewn into the fabric: five blue and five pink. Each was about three inches long.

"How do you know which capsules to use?" Willy asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Blue for boys and pink for girls." She frowned. "I'm not stupid, Willy."

He caressed her cheek. "I know, Honey. I'm just worried about you, that's all. I love you and this... spy stuff or whatever it is scares me."

She gave him a dazzling smile and hugged his neck. "I love you too. I can do this, I promise, Willy. Don't be scared."

He held her comparatively small body in his arms and wished they could just go back home.

"Why don't you just go to the party with me?"

Willy laughed. The point of the experiment was to determine if Dr. Demona's new 'Nano-Transformation System' could be delivered successfully by Street Whores. "Now what would that look like? A seven and a half foot tall, 450 pound Whoremaster crashing their party?"

Willy was one of the biggest Whoremasters created. His genetics had effected his transformation in unexpected ways.

Honey giggled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Not to mention the fact that I could simply hypnotize them into sitting quietly while I transformed them. That wouldn't be much of a test, would it?"

There was no way Willy was going to tell Honey the real reason: the Church wanted to see if 'stupid' Street Whores could pull off transformations using the capsules without a Whoremaster or White Witch's help.

Those had been the exact words of the bastard bishop who had sent them here. Willy had briefly considered grabbing him by the throat and squeezing until those black eyes popped out of his head.

That wouldn't have been the way it would have gone down, though. The Bishop would have just said 'Pain' and put Willy on his knees in agony.

So, like every other member of Whore Caste, he had simply nodded and followed orders.

"Okay, so after you transform them? What then?"

"I bring them back to the room and we take them to Havana!"

Willy smiled. "That's right. We take them to Havana, and we go home too."

"Maybe we'll keep one or two?" Honey asked hopefully.

"Honey," Willy groaned.

"Willy, we've got to have more people in our coven. It's not natural to be monogamous."

Willy laughed. "Don't knock monogamy." He squeezed her hand. "I kind of like it. Don't you?"

"Yeah, but we're saving the world, Willy. What you and I have is super nice and we should bring other people in to share the super niceness."

Willy held back a laugh. "Well, I can't argue with that I guess."

"Just think about it, okay?"

"Okay, Honey."

"Good." She began unzipping her suit the rest of the way.

"What are you doing?" Willy asked.

"We got time." She suddenly looked serious. "If I'm walking into an orgy situation, it's important to be totes limbered up. I need to stretch."

Willy grabbed her and pulled her giggling on top of him. "Come here, you little sex fiend."

***

It was a common problem for Brenda Kensey.

The powdered doughnuts were on the top shelf in the convenience store and, at 3'10", she couldn't hope to reach them. It was beyond embarrassing.

What made it worse were the stealth stares from the troglodyte behind the counter.

She briefly thought about climbing part way up the lower shelves to put the delectable powdered sugar goodness within reach of her short fingers.

The pain in her lower back nixed that idea - plus, if she fell? The clerk might laugh at her. Or, worse than laughing, he might come running to help.

If there was one thing Brenda hated worse than being laughed at, it was being the object of pity.

"Powdered doughnuts? I don't think I've had one of those in ten years."

She turned and looked up at the smiling face of Carter Mills - he sat on the front row in Professor Combs's class. He was tall and lanky, which meant Brenda was on eye level with the flat stomach she knew lurked beneath the t-shirt a few inches from her nose.

He picked a pack of doughnuts from the top shelf and stared at it. "Jesus... I can't even read some of these ingredients. I'm not that brave." He started to put it back on the shelf. "Oh," he said and paused. "You want to try them?"

Brenda felt the beginning of a smile. "Why not?" She held out her hand and Carter handed her the doughnuts.

"Tell me you aren't eating those," Hanna Marshall said as she walked out of the beer cooler with a six pack of Heineken.

"They're delicious and I'm hungry," Brenda said.

Tall, blonde Hanna rolled her eyes. "They're disgusting. They have fresh doughnuts in the front, you know?"

Hanna lived in Brenda's dorm. She liked her.

And she really wished Hanna had taken a few minutes longer to come out of the beer cooler.

Because now she was standing beside Carter and the two of them, though they didn't actually know each other, looked like the plastic bride and groom on top of a wedding cake.

They were perfect together.

And that fucking sucked.

"Nothing wrong with powdered doughnuts," Carter said with a grin. "We were just discussing the nutritional value, weren't we?"

Brenda smiled. "Yeah. It's better than you might imagine."

Hanna looked at Carter and smiled. It was Barbie smiling at Ken and Brenda felt like she had lost another foot of height. She could literally feel herself turning invisible.

"Goddamn it!"

Brenda turned and looked at the source of the curse.

Gina Crocetti was trying to free a bottle of cheap wine from the line of bottles in the wine cooler.

She was Hanna's opposite in everything except height. Gina was tall and thin and dressed in a skin tight, black leather mini skirt that was riding up to dangerous levels on her thin hips.

Carter walked over to her. "Need some help?"

"Motherfucker is stuck," Gina lamented in her thick New Jersey accent.

They were all in Professor Combs's class and they were all unable to travel home for Christmas because of the bimbo flu and its weird counterpart: the futa virus. Both diseases had reached epidemic levels in the inner cities throughout the US - several of those areas had been cordoned off with no one able to travel in or out.

None of them actually had family in those areas, thank God, but it was better to stay put in rural upstate New York than to risk travel.

Professor Combs hadn't wanted any of them to spend Christmas alone, so he had invited them all to his house near the Greek Peak Ski Resort.

Carter jerked the bottle of wine out of the cooler.

"My hero!" Gina laughed.

He handed her the bottle. "No problem."

"He's something, isn't he?" Hanna asked as she stared at Carter's butt.

Brenda felt herself sinking into depression. "If you like that type."

"What type is that?" Hanna asked.

"Perfect," Brenda huffed and walked to the counter to settle up for her powdered doughnuts.

***

They stepped out of the convenience store and into the cold mountain air.

Joey Pizzolo was leaning against his big, black SUV smoking a cigarette. He was the only one of them with a car big enough to hold them all, so he had driven them from Ithaca College. He looked at Gina and shook his head. "What the fuck did you buy? A bottle of Ripple?"