The world of Transformations is one very much like our own, but in this reality, the Church of Morpheus, a shadowy, perverse organization has taken power in Cuba. Now, they are extending their tentacles of depravity into the rest of the world.
Their aim is simple: to control the world by driving humanity into specific roles, with a class of brainwashed whores to keep the masses entertained.
The church is devious, and it will stop at nothing to draw its victims into a world of mind-controlled lust and perversion.
-***-
Angela drove fast down the country lane. Somehow, time had gotten away from her and she was behind schedule. She had two more stops before she went back to the warehouse (where she would clock out, get in her car, and drive... somewhere).
She tugged at her bra strap. The girls were swelling or something, and the straps were digging in.
She was uncomfortable. The truck was hot.
And, she was horny as fuck.
She blinked. What?
But, it was true. She wanted an orgasm, fuck that, she needed one.
Her first stop was Stallion's Adult Novelties and Videos just outside Ithaca.
She idly wondered what was in their delivery?
Probably dildos, she thought. Big, thick black ones with the veins and shit.
She closed her eyes and winced. "What the fuck?" she whispered.
She had an image of herself squatting on a big dildo on the floor, riding it for all she was worth.
She laughed and shook her head. They say women reach their prime in their early thirties, maybe she was reaching hers at thirty-eight. She had been divorced for three years. Her first husband hadn't been much to speak of to begin with, even less when she found him balls deep in a Filipino stripper when she came home early from work one evening.
After him, she had gone through a short string of freaks, users, and losers.
Vibrators were more satisfying, less expensive, and never left the seat up. Nor did they two time you with Filipino whores.
And, she wished she had a vibrator right now.
She used to carry a mini-vibrator in her purse, but that had been years ago.
Angela pulled into the lot for Stallion's and parked.
They had five boxes, small enough for her to take in one trip. She leaned over to pick up the cardboard.
Snap!
"Motherfucker!" she howled.
The clasp on the front of her bra had come undone. She unbuttoned the shirt.
A piece of blue plastic fell onto the floorboard.
The clasp hadn't just come undone - it was broken. Her big jugs swung free.
Only, they didn't swing. They were firm, firmer than they had ever been.
She squeezed them gently.
A wave of pleasure ran through her and she stumbled against the wall of the van. "Oh, my God."
She reached down. Her crotch was soaking wet.
She closed her eyes. "Finish my route. Drive to the warehouse. Clock out. Get in my car and drive..."
She looked around for something to close her bra. She found a safety pin in the glove compartment.
But, when she tried to pull the bra together, the fabric wouldn't reach. It was too small by a large margin.
"Fuck it," she said. She pulled the bra off through her shirt sleeves and tossed it on the floor.
She buttoned her shirt around her bare tits.
The buttons were strained, and her nipples were two hard pebbles under the brown fabric. There was no time to do anything else.
She gathered up the boxes and walked up to the door. She walked in to a small alcove with a second door.
A sign said, "Show ID in the Window."
"UPS," she said.
The door buzzed and she pushed it open with her hip.
The store was big and bright and filled with multicolored vibrators, video boxes, and smutty magazines.
A fat man sat behind the counter.
She hated him. He was always staring at her boobs when she made a delivery.
Angela put the boxes on the counter. She handed him her tablet and quickly crossed her arms over her protruding breasts.
The fat man stared at her open mouthed. He was about sixty with a day's growth of beard and a stained white t-shirt. "You look different."
"Just sign on the line with your finger, please," she said. She tried to smile.
He licked the end of his finger and drew his signature on the display. He smiled back as he handed her the tablet.
She tried to pull it out of his hand, but he held it fast, his eyes focused on her chest.
Angela looked down.
Two of her buttons had pulled open, revealing a cavern of tit flesh. She let go of the tablet and frantically re-buttoned.
The top button slipped open again immediately.
She snatched the tablet away and headed for the door.
"Hey, sugar tits, if you're going to put 'em on display, you can't blame a guy for looking." He laughed out loud.
Angela wasn't listening. She had stopped midway to the door.
She was staring transfixed at an enormous brown dildo on display. It was over twelve inches long with a suction cup base and big fake balls attached. There was a vibrator inside the dildo.
She tried to wrap her hand around it, but her fingers wouldn't reach.
The fat man laughed again. "Sluts."
"How much?"
"Well, that is the Whoremaster XL from a company down in Cuba. You know, where all that kinky shit is going down?"
"I asked how much?" The vibrator began to hum and she shivered.
"Three hundred dollars. It has a hookup to the internet, so it can be operated by someone outside your home. Make you cream long distance."
"Do you take credit cards?" Angela asked as she dug in her fanny pack.
"Cash only," he said with a smile.
"Can I pay in installments?" She had to have it. She had to have it now.
"What the fuck does it look like I'm running here, a fuckin' used car lot? Cash only... slut."
A tremor went through her when he called her a slut. What was wrong with her? She had liked his insult.
Worse, she wanted him to do it again.
She bit her lower lip and smiled as she turned to face him. She opened the top button on her shirt, and then the second.
The third was already open, and the fourth popped open on its own.
Her shirt was open to the waist, and her tits were perilously close to pushing the brown fabric open. "Is there anything I can do to barter for this beautiful... dick?"
He shook his head and laughed. "Fuckin' whore."
