Transformations The Farm Ch 01

Hello, readers! Welcome to our latest book in the Transformations series. The Farm picks up where Transformations: Rose left off. Lisa, Jason, Mary, and Belynda have arrived at Alex and Gwen's farm from Transformations: Witnesses.

If this is the first Transformations story you've read, STOP! You're reading the fourth book in the series! The novel reading order is:

Transformations: Witnesses

Transformations: Soccer Mom

Transformations: Rose

Transformations: The Farm

We also have short stories which aren't necessary to follow the books, but they do help! The short story order is:

Transformations: Britt-Ney

Transformations: The Hazards of Saving the Earth

Transformations: The New Gym

Thanks for reading, and as always, we welcome your comments!

*****

Rebecca Tanner knew this was a mistake when she first laid eyes on Clinton Travers. Fat, bearded, stuffed into a two sizes too small dirty polo shirt and wearing an even dirtier baseball cap emblazoned with the words: PUSSY HUNTER, Clinton was staring at her like a barbecue pit master looked at a rack of ribs.

Anything for the story

, she thought. She and her cameraman, Hank, also known as Bear, had driven three hours into bumfuck Egypt to interview Clinton. The greasy redneck was ogling her boobs in the tight blouse, and she wished she had opted for a baggy sweater instead.

Rebecca wondered if the farmer knew her boobs were probably smaller than his own man boobs?

"Mr. Travers, exactly how many people have you personally witnessed your neighbor abducting?" Rebecca asked.

"This is going to be on WNYC news, right?" Clinton asked.

"If it checks out."

"And, I'll get the reward from the police?"

"That's up to them." Rebecca fought down her disgust. If Travers's story was true, the farm next to his was involved in abduction and human trafficking.

And, all this son of a bitch cared about was getting his fat face on TV and lining his pockets. People suck.

Of course, if they didn't suck, she'd be out of a job.

Rebecca Tanner was an up and coming reporter at WNYC, one of the biggest markets in the country. This story could put her at the anchor desk - hell, it might get her a Pulitzer and propel her to national news anchor.

And, she could be instrumental in taking down a gang of sexual predators.

This was the reason she became a journalist in the first place.

They were sitting on Clinton's front porch.

Hank stood behind her, his camera focused on the leering redneck.

"When did you first begin to suspect your neighbor?" Rebecca asked.

"The day those Jehovah's Witnesses disappeared. I saw them turn into his drive."

"Your neighbor's name is Alex Kincaid?"

"Yeah, odd sort. He's some kind of body builder. Wife died a few years back."

"So, you say you saw the Jehovah's pull into his drive?"

"Yeah, two women and a man. They drove in, but they didn't drive out."

"And, you told the police?"

"Fuck yeah..."

Rebecca grimaced. "Don't say fuck. Can't say that on the network."

"Sorry. Yes, I told the police, not that they did sh... anything. They went to the house a few days later, then came back and said they didn't find nothing. 'Course, by that time, the Jehovah's was long gone, except for the blonde."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Gwen Adamson?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"Wait, you're saying Gwen Adamson is still in the house?"

Clinton laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, the blonde that got out of the car is still over there - only now she's over six feet tall with tits like basketballs, and she says her name is Gwen Kincaid, Alex's new wife."

***

"You're sure?" Rebecca asked the person on the other end of the phone. Her assistant back in Manhattan had found a police report that said they had interviewed Alex and Gwen Kincaid in the disappearance of the Jehovah's and found nothing out of the ordinary.

Of course, a little digging by her assistant revealed that Gwen Kincaid did not exist before that police interview.

Were the cops in on it?

Rebecca hung up.

"What did they say?" Hank asked. He was changing the battery on the camera as they stood beside the WNYC van outside Clinton's house.

"His story checks out - the cops investigated, interviewed Gwen 'Kincaid' and didn't find anything out of the ordinary." She stared at two pictures in her hand. One was a police photo of Gwen Adamson, the other a long distance shot of Gwen Kincaid on her porch taken surreptitiously by Clinton.

Gwen Kincaid was like a new and improved version of Gwen Adamson, but they were definitely the same woman.

How the hell could that be possible? There was less than a week between the disappearance and the interview of the Kincaid's - there was no plastic surgery that could be performed and healed in that span of time. The woman had developed a rack worthy of a fetish model and a figure that looked like she was wearing an invisible corset.

And, then there was the question of her miraculous change in height. Nothing could make a woman grow eight inches taller, could it?

"Becca, hun, I'm scared shitless. Let's just go to the cops," Hank said. From any other man, his familiarity would have sounded sexist. But, Bear was just Bear - he didn't mean anything by it.

Not that they hadn't fucked.

Bear was just her type: big, muscled, and hairy.

They weren't in love. They were just fuck buddies when they weren't otherwise occupied.

And, Bear made her look damned good on camera.

"You? You're scared?" She grinned up at him.

"Goddamn right I am. If what he's saying is true, these people are fucking dangerous."

Rebecca nodded. According to Clinton, the Jehovah's were just the first abductees. Over the months following, there had been a constant stream of vehicles in and out of Adam Kincaid's farm. This coincided with rumored and confirmed abductions in nearby Ithaca.

"We need the story, Bear." She reached into the back of the van and pulled out her leather hiking boots. "If Clinton's right, the local cops are in on this shit. We need to go back to Manhattan with evidence."

"Goddamn it," Bear groaned.

She sat down on the van's floorboard and started changing her shoes. "Come on, Bear. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Fine, but if you come out of this with super tits, don't blame me."

Rebecca laughed. "I don't know." She thrust out her chest. "Bigger boobs might be a career boost." She winked at him. "Besides, maybe you'll get the big boobs."

He frowned. "Yeah, exactly the shit I'm afraid of."

***

"I ain't going no closer," Clinton whispered.

They were kneeling in a copse of trees a hundred yards from Adam Kincaid's barn.

Bear was filming after having put gaffing tape over the LEDs on the camera.

"What?! Seriously?" Rebecca hissed.

Clinton shook his head. "You ain't seen the shit I've seen. Gwen Kincaid, when she looks at you? You feel... strange. Like she's looking inside your head. Ain't going any closer. You can go on if you like." He turned and crept away back toward his house.

"Cowardly mother..." Rebecca whispered.

"Yeah, I'm in agreement with him," Bear whispered back.

She shook her head. The barn had no windows, but the farmhouse beyond did. Light streamed from the basement windows.

Rebecca pointed at the house. "Let's shoot some footage through the basement windows."

Bear winced. "Fine."

They made their way slowly behind the barn.

"Holy shit," Rebecca said.

The field behind the barn was a parking lot filled with expensive cars: Mercedes, BMWs, and Teslas mostly.

They were almost to the house when a car pulled into the drive. They ducked down beside a Tesla SUV.

For a moment, Rebecca was afraid the big black Mercedes was going to park in the lot, but instead it pulled right up in front of the farmhouse.

A woman got out of the car.

She was in her early twenties, dressed in white with gorgeous dark hair.

Even in the dim light, the girl was one of the most beautiful people Rebecca had ever seen.

"Wow," Bear whispered.

She went to the door.

A moment later it opened.

Gwen stood framed in golden light. "Hello, Lisa. My name is Gwen. We've been expecting you."

The girl, Lisa seemed to be trembling. "I've done bad things. Horrible things."

"Shh," Gwen whispered. "We all have. And, we will continue to do them. But, it's going to be alright, Lisa. You're home now."

Gwen held Lisa tenderly.

In a few moments, the others got out of the car: an older woman, a muscular boy, and a tall Latina. They all went in the house.

"Come on, hurry!" Rebecca said. Together, she and Bear ran to the basement windows.

Rebecca peered inside.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

The room was brightly lit and sterile looking, not at all what she would expect from a farmhouse. It took Rebecca a moment to realize she was looking at an operating table.

"Are you getting this?"Rebecca whispered.

"Yeah, let's get..."

There was a loud crack, and Bear hit the ground beside her, his prize camera rolling into the bushes.

Rebecca spun as she saw the black metal handle of a flashlight swinging toward her face. She stumbled backward and then scrambled to her feet.

A tall woman wearing Daisy Dukes and a red handkerchief halter top was smiling at her. "Ain't you pretty?"

"Bear?" Rebecca asked.

The big man was lying face down on the ground.

The woman stepped over him with her leather cowboy boots.

She had big breasts and the handkerchief halter looked ready to fail.

Rebecca walked backward. "We're from WNYC. The cops will be here any second."

The woman shrugged, her long brown pig tails waving. "That's not a problem."

"I'm serious! We've already called them."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire - cell phones don't work on the property." She walked menacingly toward Rebecca. "You sure are cute. I bet you taste good too."

"We called before we came here..."

The woman giggled. "I told ya. It's not a problem. Local cops do what they're told. You will too. And, I am gonna tell you all kinds of things to do..."

"Don't come any closer. I'm warning you," Rebecca whined.

The woman laughed. "Now, come on, sweetie. I ain't gonna hurt you... much."

Rebecca tried to make herself look small. She cowered. She glanced left and right, as if she was about to run.

The woman swung the flashlight toward Rebecca's face.

She could tell from the look on the woman's face that she wasn't expecting Rebecca to block the blow.

It hurt when she brought up her left arm and blocked the flashlight. She would be nursing a bad bruise tomorrow, maybe even a hairline fracture.

Her right fist pistoned out and twisted on impact with the woman's jaw.

The woman's head rocked back.

That should have taken her down - that same punch had broken the jaw of a Central Park mugger a few months earlier.

The woman in the Daisy Dukes just blinked and stumbled back.

Rebecca brought up her right leg and hit her in the stomach with a front kick.

The woman doubled over and landed on her ass in the wet grass.

She looked up at Rebecca. And, then the woman laughed.

"What the fuck are you?" Rebecca Asked. Then she turned and ran headlong into the dark woods beyond the property.

***

If you had told Lisa Chase a few days ago that she was destined to be an immortal, mind controlling dominatrix with a boyfriend who was being corrupted into becoming a real-life antichrist, she would have thought you had lost your mind.

Of course, that was before the mousy brunette with the thick glasses had stumbled across the servants of the Church of Morpheus in a New York truck stop. Before she had been twisted and molded by a white witch known only as Sugar Tits. Before her body had been transformed into that of a gray eyed sex goddess by a mad scientist named Demona.

Before she had met and fallen in love with a freshman hunk named Jason.

Before she had fucked his mother and coerced her into having sex with her own son.

Before Lisa Chase had become a servant of evil.

Now, this unlikely fantasy was her reality.

She stood in the basement of the old farmhouse and watched as probably the most beautiful woman she had ever seen tried to coax a load of cum out of Jason.

Gwen. The third white witch she had met.

Last night, Lisa, Jason, Jason's mother, and Jason's pet, Belynda, had arrived at the Farm deep in the countryside of upstate New York.

The beautiful blonde Gwen had welcomed her warmly.

Gwen would be her teacher, helping her master her skills as a white witch - a perverter belonging to the Church of Morpheus.

But, at the moment, Jason was Gwen's focus.

"I'm going to need a big load from you, Jason. Demona needs a sample to determine your progress, and I want some for my own experiments," Gwen said. She was dressed in a white latex unitard and thigh high, white latex stiletto boots.

Even without the heels, the blonde was tall. In them, she was a tower of sexuality. Her eyes sparkled in the bright lights of the basement.

Her body was perfection - all the white witches were perfect, but Lisa felt a tremor of desire every time she looked at Gwen.

The woman's breasts were enormous, bigger than Lisa had ever seen. She put Sugar Tits to shame and Lisa herself felt almost flat chested in comparison.

Lisa was wearing identical boots to Gwen, a gift from the older woman's closet, along with a skin tight white latex mini dress. Panties and bras were distant memories for Lisa. Her tits needed no support, and panties were useless against the never ending lubricant that flowed from Lisa's cunt.

It was more comfortable to go commando.

Jason was sitting naked in a medical chair, his wrists bound to the armrest with Velcro.

He had asked Gwen why she had bound him, and the laughing witch had simply told him: "For fun."

Gwen bent at the waist and placed her hands on Jason's muscular thighs., pushing them apart.

Lisa hadn't been the only one who had been transformed in the truck stop.

Before Demona had gone to work on him, Jason had been a tall, skinny high school grad. Now, his thin body looked sculpted by a master, hard muscles defined from head to toe.

And, his cock was thick and long, standing straight up against his hard stomach.

Lisa bit her lip, salivating a little as she looked at his member gently dripping precum.

She couldn't get enough of him. She couldn't get enough sex in general, again from the things that had been done to her.

Gwen knelt between Jason's thighs. She reached out and wrapped her elegant fingers around Jason's thick cock. "So beautiful. For a woman so into women, Demona certainly knows how to design a cock."

Jason tilted his head back and moaned.

Gwen pumped and a spout of precum gurgled out. She gently licked it away.

Jason strained agains the bonds.

"Shh," Gwen whispered, her lips shining from Jason's juices. "Relax. I need this to last as long as possible. The longer you last, the more cum you'll release. You will be my good boy, won't you, Jason?"

"Y... Yes. I'll try." He squinted his eyes shut.

Lisa knew why: she wanted to cum just looking at Gwen, she couldn't imagine what Jason was going through with her hands on him, that beautiful face smiling up at him.

Gwen turned her head toward Lisa. "You're precious. I promise tonight I'll show you the same attention." She smiled and winked.

She read my mind!

Lisa thought. She turned beat red.

Gwen laughed. "So sweet. Don't be embarrassed, Lisa. It's natural and beautiful."

Jason looked from Gwen to Lisa and back, not comprehending the psychic connection between the two witches.

Gwen squeezed the base of his cock. "You just focus on what I'm doing to you."

Jason groaned.

With her free hand, Gwen unzipped her unitard with the big pentagram zipper tab.

Her huge breasts pushed the latex apart as the pentagram lowered.

Lisa stepped slightly to the side, automatically shifting to get a better view.

Gwen winked at her, and Lisa was blushing again.

Gwen's huge rack came into view.

Lisa gasped.

Without the latex to constrict them, they were even larger. The thick nipples had glimmering steel clamps.

Gwen looked down at her breasts and smiled. "They weren't supposed to be this big. I was only supposed to be a J cup - the extra cup sizes were punishment."

"Oh, I would have done it even if you hadn't been a bad girl," a voice said.

Lisa jumped.

She had forgotten about Alex, the giant Whoremaster, Gwen's mate.

He watched, sitting on the bottom steps of the stairs to the house above. Belynda was sitting naked on his lap as he gently rubbed her thick clit. Her eyes were focused intently on Gwen and Jason.

He smiled warmly at Lisa as he pushed a middle finger thicker than most men's cocks deep inside Belynda.

The woman tilted her head back and mumbled Spanish into his thick neck.

"Si, bella. Dos," he said. He eased a second finger in beside the first, and Belynda ground her crotch against him.

Lisa's heart was pounding.

Gwen hefted her big breasts. "Have you ever had a titty fuck, Jason?"

He shook his head, staring straight at her immense cleavage.

Gwen smiled. "Oh, you're going to like it. The first step is lubrication - normally, I'd just undo my nipple clamps and let my Ambrosia make them all slick and wet for you." She caressed the steel clamps. "But, the Ambrosia would taint the sample." She reached down and retrieved a glass bottle. "Luckily, I have this oil that won't effect the analysis."

She tilted the bottle and let the oil pour onto her breasts. "Mmm, it's very warm. Let me show you." She tilted it over his cock.

The clear liquid coated the head and slid down his shaft.

Jason thrashed in the chair. "God! Oh, God!"

Gwen squeezed the base of his cock again. "Shh, darling, remember what I told you. Hold off as long as you can for me."

Jason nodded his head, the muscles in his jaw straining. "Yes! I'm trying!"

Gwen laughed. "I know. Such a good boy."

Setting the bottle aside, she leaned forward and clasped her big breasts around his cock.

"Fuck! Yes!"

Gwen laughed. "Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes: titty fucking. Lubrication is very important." She began to slowly stroke her breasts up and down on his erection. "And, the girl must have big tits, like mine. Little titties just won't do the job properly."

"Fuck! Oh, Jesus!"

"Lisa, you should pay attention to this as well. You're a very healthy girl now as well - lots of titty fucking in your future. See how he's simply putty in my hands?"

Lisa watched wide eyed and nodded. She stepped closer.

"I'm squeezing hard on both the upstroke and the down. You should do that with your cunt when you fuck him as well. He needs a lot of friction so he cums very hard, don't you, Jason."

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!"

Gwen laughed. "Of course, the last important thing about titty fucking is: the man must be hung as fuck. See how his big, hard cock sticks up even over my big tits?"

Lisa nodded.

"A man this big gets a bonus during a titty fuck," Gwen said. She licked her ruby red lips and then sucked his cock head into her mouth on his upthrust.

"Fuck! Oh, my fucking God!"

Gwen licked and sucked, her tongue wrapping around his purple, swollen head like a snake.