Author's Note: This is the final chapter of this story. I recommend checking the tags before reading.
*****
"I'm listening," the nameless gypsy said, head inclined toward Alisa, who stood, motionless in her tearing dress. It strained against her mammoth cock. Veins pushed between the slits, offering a glimpse at her pale foreskin and, lower down, her angry, purple head. The gypsy hadn't moved from her chair. She faced the futa, withered face and hooded eyes fixed upon her. A hint of a smile teased the corners of her wrinkled mouth.
Alisa glanced to her left. She didn't dare take a step in any direction, even to help Bianca. The gorgeous portrait of sex panted on her hands and knees, clothes tighter than the nuns who gave them to her. Huge had become a subpar description for what she now possessed. Her hands were pressed flat into the ground, raising her torso high as possible, and still her breasts mashed into the ground below. Further back, Bianca's ass rose high, a shelf all on its own.
The futa breathed deep, nostrils flared as a mixture of her and Bianca's musk warred with the stale air. Part of her, cowed by the threat before her, craved to devolve and indulge in her desires. She turned her gaze back to the gypsy.
"So, uh... yeah, a bet," Alisa said. She swallowed her doubts, hoping to keep them locked in the pits of her stomach, away from the gypsy's prying eye, but they refused. Her fears and more bubbled back to the surface. Her hands turned clammy no matter how often she wiped them on her garment.
"What sort of bet, Alisa?" The gypsy chuckled.
"Um, yeah... what sort of bet? Well," Alisa glanced between her lover, and enemy, wishing one might kick her well-honed mind back into gear. Her vision fell upon her groin, from which a cock no creature, with the exception of whales, possessed to her knowledge. The gypsy would refuse any wager that failed to peak her interest. In that case, she had one option.
"I'll m-masturbate and if I don't cum... If I don't cum within ten minutes then you'll release us, curse and all," Alisa panted. The tightness in her chest hadn't dissipated, if anything it got worse. Each exhale shuddered in her lungs, frantic for escape.
The gypsy laughed. Her bemusement scratched at Alisa's ears, burrowing into her mind, detailing how poor a decision she'd made, "Sounds delightful. And what do you wager?"
"Me," Alisa said, "If I fail, then do whatever you want to me. Bianca goes free, but I'm yours. Or Karen's."
"Liz," Bianca rasped and coughed.
"Excellent," the gypsy beamed, showing the rotted remains of her teeth, and yawned. She stood from her chair and shuffled past Alisa, "I'm afraid this is when I usually have a little nap. Old age is so unforgiving. Karen will preside over our arrangement." She paused in the doorway and turned to face the pair.
"Oh, one more thing. If either of you tries something, like holding my granddaughter hostage, then the curse will activate to its full effect."
"Full effect?" Alisa blanched at the idea.
"Oh yes. What you've sampled thus far is barely a fraction of what could be. I'm afraid I've made a habit of holding back for my amusement," the gypsy shrugged and stepped from sight. Despite her departure, Alisa's mind echoed with the ghost of her laughter and warning.
"How could you say that?" Bianca hissed. She managed to push herself to her feet and waddled to the futa.
"It's fine. If I win, then we're off the hook right away. If I lose, then I just have to wait until the old bitch dies," Alisa said.
"Harsh." Karen strode into the room and claimed her relative's chair, smirking at Alisa as she glanced over at Bianca, "You took my advice. Smart."
"There's a first time for everything," Alisa said.
Karen flipped her blue hair and leaned back, "Grandma really knows good furniture. You could fall asleep here and never wanna wake up," she murmured. Neither Alisa or Bianca responded.
"Geez, you guys could be a little lighter hearted. Alisa's set up a perfect win-win," Karen leaned forward, resting her breasts on her legs as she peered at Alisa's semi-erection, and her chin in her palm, "Even if she loses, both your lives improve. She gets to be my wife. Or would it be husband, considering her dick? Eh, semantics. And you, Bianca, will walk out of here with the fetish figure of a pervert's dream. Sounds great, right? I've even been..."
"Enough talk, Karen," Alisa sighed.
"Rude. But I guess you're right," the statuesque gypsy relaxed once more, "Just so you know, gypsy's take their bets very seriously. Cheat in any way and I have full authority to turn you into a cock. And I don't mean a bird."
"I don't cheat, unlike some people," Alisa said.
"Ouch," Karen winced, though her mocking grin remained, "But I suppose you're right. You'll just have to be extra watchful, won't you? Now, onto the rules. You can masturbate how ever you want, so long as you are being stimulated. Also, I'm the judge of whether you're feeling it."
"You've gotta be kidding?" Alisa groaned.
"Now, now. I get that you don't trust me to be fair, so how about this?" Karen spoke in a language foreign to Alisa. Some words resembled Latin, some Greek and others could've been gibberish, she couldn't say, "Now I'm also cursed. For the next ten or so minutes, that is. If you're feeling sexual pleasure, I'll be, shall we say, sharing it."
"How do you I know you're telling the truth?" Alisa squinted at her ex. She'd lied before. Her falseness came with ease, natural as a college professor stating facts.
"Oh, you can't miss it," Karen chuckled. A liar's mask, Alisa thought. But did it have to be so tantalising? Karen's smile reflected the opposite of Bianca's, radiating a discreet intent no one could discern until she informed them. Dishonesty personified. After years together, Alisa still couldn't read her.
All she could do was stare at the stunning page inscribed with nonsensical, familiar patterns. Mischievous lips framed by a set of strong cheekbones, overseen by a cute nose governed by the heterochromatic eyes above, circled in thick eyelashes. Each had captivated - blinded - her.
Alisa's memories of their time rested toward the back of her mind. A shimmering, clear pond full of inconsistency in how she'd felt. At the surface, burying any negativity, danced her pleasure. Drops of pleasure seeped into the cracks of her thoughts, winding their way to her consciousness. How Karen's body had felt against hers, the way the gypsy's hair went wild in the mornings, the feeling of her dripping hot insides wrapped tight around Alisa's length.
She jerked back to reality at a sharp snap. Looking down, Alisa discovered the obvious culprit. It drooped from her crotch, not yet hard but well on its way. Dark, purple veins undulated across the surface, escorting blood and pleasure and desire throughout the vast expanse. She estimated four feet of unique futa-cock, and growing, swelled from her groin in a perverse extension of her body.
Karen gave a low, wolf-whistle. Alisa looked to her and away again. Her cock jerked and extended several inches at once, with several others piling atop it. Temptation pumped through its veins. Karen set a few feet away, the gap rapidly closing as her cock swelled to its true, glorious size. The girl appeared unchanged but for one thing; her true nature. A real gypsy, one with powers to curse others and even herself, which made her dangerous. Which made her intriguing. Which made her tempting.
So, so tempting.
"Looks like you're ready to begin," Karen said.
"What?" Alisa blinked and peered down. Her erection had remained dormant since yesterday, offering mere glimpses at the utter monstrosity she now possessed. An apt description, Alisa thought.
From her crotch, extended an, at first, unassuming girth no greater than her original size. As her vision moved, however, it exploded in majesty. The veins formed a labyrinth, each wall larger than any of her fingers, before fading into one another. Her skin stretched around her cock, so thin she could make out other, smaller circuits meandering beneath the surface. Every purple line led to a single goal, the true zenith of a cock. She followed them, compelled by a mix of desire and dreaded curiosity, to her wine-coloured, lustful and angry head.
A burst of pre-cum rocketed through her length. She bit her lip against the pleasure, holding the moan in her chest. Her pre-cum distended the path of her urethra, pressing out against all her nerves, hitting the perfect buttons to spark her lust into full gear. It splattered against the floor. One drop struck her bare foot.
"Hmm," Karen moaned.
