6/20/99
Spells-R-Us & The Contract
by Bad Irving
Standard disclaimer, if under 18 do not read this tale. Actually this
disclaimer is just a chance to give some credit, where credit is due. The
story "The Reviewer from Hell" by Happyguy was the starting idea for
the creation of this story. It is with Happyguy's permission that I take his
concept and proceed with my own story. The characters in this story are
not a carry over from Happyguy's tale, but, the Spells-R-Us (SRU)
characters are a carry over from that story line. The SRU story line and
theme's were created by Bill Hart in about 1996. Gee, did I write any of
this? Actually, yes, but I felt I should give credit to the other people I
took the basic ideas from. All the terrible grammar and silliness are my
own.
Spells-R-Us & The Contract
by Bad Irving
"Gadzooks!" cried Bob Jones.
Yet another of his breast expansion stories had been shot down in
flames, by that reviewer over at The Daily Snodgrass Bust Expansion
Gazette. Bob never did well in the review column. He thought his
stories were divine. The reviewer thought they were hell. Bob at one
time had hopes of being published. He wanted to appear in an actual
nation wide publication like Score or Voluptuous. He knew he never
would get anywhere, as long as the local reviewer kept blowing him out
of the water. What upset Bob the most was the review concentrated, not
on his story line, but, instead upon his grammar. The reviewer would
make comments that appeared valid in an English class, but, missed the
point in a story review. The reviewer had never said if they liked or
disliked the story. Bob was very frustrated, and vexed in that he couldn't
get the reviewer to state wether the storyline was good or bad.
Bob became so frustrated that he went down to The Daily Snodgrass
Bust Expansion Gazette, and asked to see Sam Evans the story reviewer.
Bob was very surprised when a 30ish school marm looking woman came
to the front counter. Samantha Evans was feeling smug. She always
felt superior to the low quality people that wrote the stories she had to
review. She also had Mr. Jones at a disadvantage. He had been to the
office before, and on that occasion had gotten in an argument with the
editor. She had watched from her office, and was not part of that
discussion. She remembered him, but, he did not know her. She wasn't
in her office this time. She was standing face to face with Bob Jones.
"I want to see Mr. Evans. He's got some explaining to do about that last
review of his," said Bob.
"We don't have a Mr. Evans on the paper. I am MS. Evans. I believe
you want to see me? I review the stories that we publish on the no-fee
freelance page," said Sam.
"Ah...er...Do you review all the stories?" a now embarrassed Bob asked
"Yes. Even those terrible bust expansion tales we get from that guy
named Bob Jones. May I help you?" a smug Sam said.
"What do you mean terrible? I have read his stories and love them!",
said Bob trying to recover.
"What? You love 2nd grade English, with bad spelling? You love
dangling participles? You love incomplete and run on sentences?" stated
Sam as she stared at Bob.
"No. I love the great stories he writes! You know that thing you seem
unable to comment on in your reviews," a now angry Bob retorted.
"Oh, yea, right. I am supposed to comment on how I love breast
expansion stories? The stories were all so cute. All they needed was a
little basic grammar knowledge to make them readable. Don't you think I
know who you are Mr. Jones? You think that you are the only author
that has ever talked to me? I was a school teacher for 10 years. I know
that before there is a story, there must be grammar and structure. You,
Mr. Jones, don't make the grade. Your story line is not a relevant
consideration until you have written a grammatically correct story. I
suggest you go back to school and learn some basics," said Sam.
"Hey, The story is what is important! Don't give me any of this here and
that there grammar gotta be first crap!" stammered a red faced Bob.
"Mr. Jones, your spoken grammar is only exceeded by your written
expertise. I bid you a good day," and with that Ms. Evans turned to go
back to her office.
"That's the same way you review stories! You can't pay attention to
content can you?" yelled Bob.
"You'll have to leave now," stated a large fellow that came out from the
bowels of the office.
Slamming the door on his way out, a very frustrated Bob left The Daily
Snodgrass Bust Expansion Gazette. Bob, slowly got a clue. He had just
fucked himself. How would she ever give him a good review after that
little exchange? There weren't any other papers that he could get his
stories published in. Damn. Maybe he could make his tantrum up to
her? Naw, that would only make matters worse; it would look like he
was trying to bribe her. Maybe he could bribe her? No, she wasn't the
bribing type. Crap. Why did they have to have a woman reviewer
anyway? These stories were male erotica. Maybe if she had been a guy
this would be different? Maybe, if pigs flew, he would need larger
windshield wipers! Doomed, he was doomed. He would never get a
break now. Sure, his stories would be published in the paper and then
shot down with a vengeance by Ms. Evans. There was just no way Bob
could succeed. He guessed he would just wait out his days as a lowly
paid shoe salesman with unrecognized potential.
He drove around aimlessly for sometime. It was just as he decided to
head back home that he got an idea. He detoured to the local mall. The
bell rang as he entered Spells-R-Us. An old man, in a bath robe, from
the back of the shop hollered, "Hi, Bob, be right there."
"Hang on there Shopkeeper, or should I say wizard? I know all about
this place. I have written many stories about the going's on here. Quit
with the mind reading and come to the front counter. Don't even try to
get me to buy anything in the store! I know what I want. I don't need
you giving me what I think I want," said Bob.
The old man had been stocking shelves. He dusted his hands off as he
walked to the front of the store. About halfway there a wolf came up
along side him and walked with him. He walked behind the front
counter and looked at Bob. The wolf sat by the old man's side.
"OK. How may I help you, Bob," said the old man.
"I am tired of being fucked by reviewers of my stories. I want to make it
to where they stop with the bad reviews," said Bob.
"No problem, I have a little statue right over here, that will do the
trick," said the old man.
Bob looked at the statue. "What is this some sort of fertility gizmo?
Who gets pregnant? That's not what I wanted........" said Bob.
The old man interrupted Bob, "Fine, fine, there's a little necklace right
over......"
Now Bob interrupted, "I know the drill old man. All the objects in this
shop are cursed. Somehow or other, the users of these objects wind up
transformed; some into bimbos, others in other ways. Look at the poor
fellow that wound up being your wolf."
The wolf growled.
"If you know so much, what do you want? Or should I read your mind
and tell you what you need?" asked the old man.
"No. No, mind reading. I want to contract your services," said Bob
"Contract, contract? I have never done a contract," said a quizzical old
man, as he scratched his head.
"I want to contract you to place a spell on one of my stories. I want a
spell that will protect me from bad reviews," said Bob.
"Kind of a weird copyright? It's possible. But, unlike my low-cost store
items, this is going to cost you. What do you want?" said the old man.
"I want whoever tries to trash me or my story to get punished," said Bob.
"People try to throw you in a trash can?" asked the old man.
"No, no, no. I mean people that write bad reviews abuse me and my
work. I don't want to be abused," said Bob.
"Oh. Ok, so, you want people that abuse you to be punished. How?" said
a grinning old man.
Bob looked around the shop. He remembered the stories. He looked at
the wolf. He got a concerned look on his face.
"Woa. Hang on a second. Nobody gets hurt. Nobody gets turned into an
animal. Nobody gets turned into an inanimate object. Look at this shop.
You even have one of your former customers as a guard wolf. I just
don't want people abusing my work. Ok? Come on, I am sure you have
some ideas how you could stop them without destroying them?" said
Bob.
"Sure, I have got some dozies. I think I can operate within your
guidelines. Maybe, I can even use your story line to help me out. Would
you like that?" asked the old man.
"Yea, kind of poetic justice. Great," agreed Bob.
"Fine, lets draw up a contract," said the old man as he took out a fountain
pen.
"Hang on. How much?" asked Bob.
"$9,000 and it's guaranteed to work," said the old man.
"Fine, just to get her will be worth it," said Bob.
"Time for brass tacks. Give me your thumb," said the old man.
Bob stuck his thumb toward the old man. The old man jabbed a brass
tack into his thumb. He collected the blood with a fountain pen.
"What gives?" said Bob.
"You want a binding contract right? I am not going to write it in my own
blood. That would be silly. First, this is a spell of protection on a
story to be written by Bob Jones. The spell will remain in effect as long
as the story exists. Ok so far?" said the old man.
"Fine," said Bob.
"Anybody that abuses Bob with this story will be subject to punishment.
That's a little broad. We ought to get this a little firmer. How do you
want to define abuse?" asked the old man.
"The widest definition as possible. I mean if they wrap it up and hit me
with the story, or talk bad about the story, or write a bad review.
Anything done with the story that could be considered abuse of me will
be considered abuse," said Bob.
"Ok, anyone that abuses Bob via this story will be punished. What about
punishment?" asked the old man.
"Your discretion but, along the lines we already discussed," said Bob.
"Ok. Punishment is at the spell casters discretion. The spell will force
some elements of the story line upon the abuser. This will happen in
such a way as to stop that form of abuse from taking place or continuing.
But,
nobody will be turned into inanimate objects, or stop being human.
Anything else?" asked the old man.
"I'd like to get published," said Bob.
"That would not be part of a protection spell on the story. I could
fashion that as a rider to the contract, but, it will cost another $5,000,"
said a smiling old man.
"$14,000? But, I do get published..... It's a deal. Fame and fortune
here I come," said Bob.
"Slow down Bob. I can get you published, in a major publication, one
time. Beyond that it's all up to you. This is a spell of protection with a
rider to guarantee publication. You want more than that, it will really
cost you and not the peanuts we have dealt with till now; say, $500,000
up front and in cash. I will take gold though, " said the old man.
"I don't have that kind of money," said Bob.
"I knew that. I just wanted to remind you exactly what you are getting
for $14,000. Or do you want me to plan some surprises instead?" asked
the old man.
"I have seen your surprises. No thank you," said Bob emphatically.
"Good, it's settled. You deliver the story to me, with the $14,000. I will
apply the spell of protection to it, and then hand it back over to you.
From then on, the spell only works to punish people that abuse you via
using the story, or talking bad about the story, or just about anything
that can be construed to be abuse. Plus, you will be published in a major
publication. For payment I will take MasterCard or Visa. No American
Express," said the old man.
"And no surprises. The spell functions as listed. No, oh, you forgot this
or it reads this way," demanded Bob.
"A little hard to write, but, no surprises, the contract will function only
as written, no changes are authorized. Deal?" said the old man.
"We got us a deal. Let me sign," said Bob.
The contract was signed. Bob went home to write the world's greatest
breast expansion story. He toiled for weeks on the story. It had magic, it
had cheerleaders, it had strippers, bursting clothes, it had the flat
chested going to the well endowed, squirting milk, and an English
teacher that morph's into a beautiful large breasted horny love slave
stripper.Bob was especially pleased with the English teacher as she was
his personal attack on Ms. Evans. At the end of four weeks, Bob maxed
out all his credit cards, and then even pawned some items. With $14,000
in cash, and his story in hand, he returned to Spells-R-Us.
"Right over here, Bob. Set it down on the table. I'll take your money
now as well," said the old man.
"How, can I trust you?" asked Bob.
Picking up the money the old man said, "We have a contract. I am
bound by it. You are probably the only fellow that has ever come in here
that is going to get exactly what he asked for! Now, give me about 10
mins to get this spell in place and she's all yours."
The old man took the story into the back room. There was some puffs of
smoke a few lightning bolts, some Latin and one not so quiet "Ouch".
After about 15 mins the old man reemerge.
"Here you go Bob. All set. This story has the protection spell in place.
Be it transferred to electronic media, tape to book format, made a TV
movie or even if its sky writing the spell is in place. Nobody will abuse
you with this story without suffering some dire consequences. Yea, yea,
nobody gets hurt or transformed into a nonhuman," said the old man.
"Great! Published, I am supposed to be published too!" said Bob.
"The rider's in place too. You will be published. All will go exactly as
written or your money back," said the old man.
"No, not money back it goes as planned. No changes!" demanded Bob.
"That's what I meant. No changes. The contract will execute as written.
Not a true guarantee because it won't fail. I have nothing to guarantee
because this is the way it shall be. A reimbursement clause is
irrelevant," replied the old man.
A smiling Bob picked up his story and left. The old man merely smiled
at Bob on his way out the door. He didn't have time to say good-bye as
there was a young couple coming in the front door.
"She's a little flat, but, we will have that fixed soon enough," the old
man thought to himself.
"Hi, John and Alice, I have just what you are looking for right over.....,"
were the last words Bob heard the old man say as the door closed behind
Bob.
Bob was happy. No, Bob was ecstatic. He would get his revenge and
get published too. Sure he really did need that $14,000 dollars. But,
getting published and also getting his revenge is the kind of investment
that might just pay off big time. On the other hand, the prospect of being
kicked out of his apartment because he had pawned everything was not a
happy thought. Who cared though? This is all going to work out, Bob
hoped, as he drove over to The Daily Snodgrass Bust Expansion Gazette.
Once there Bob dropped his story off. All he could do now is go home
and wait. Well, that and work on his finances.
Sam Evans did most of her review work at home. She had come to the
Gazette after she had lost her job at the local private school. Downsizing
they had told her. It had only been out of desperation that she had taken
this job. She considered the stories all to be vile. Someday another job
may come her way that paid more money, and then she would be out of
here. She might even be able to get a job as an English teacher, but, with
this job on her resume, she doubted it. Besides, she wanted to earn some
real money. Teaching was not a field for earning large amounts of
money.
The one perk of her job was that she was a telecommuter. She could
work at home, in her shared two bedroom apartment, three out of five
days a week. On those days she could do work whenever she felt like it.
Today was one of those days. She stepped out of the shower, put on her
panties, a leisure bra (she always wore a bra, though a B cup, she felt a
lady should always have her bosoms properly restrained) a robe, did her
hair up in a towel, and sat down to go to work for the next few minutes.
She finished the first of two (2) stories she had to review. The first was
a short story by a guy named Edgar Phone and was titled "The Sexual
Ray". Sam found these horny authors, and their "erotic" stories both
boring and disgusting. She placed the next story on her scanner, and
loaded it into her computer. A few quick checks on the scanning
process, and she was into her review. Sam had an interesting review
technique. First, she checked the story for grammar, punctuation, and
spelling. Then, only if she found those up to her standards, she would go
on to actually comment on the story. She prided herself that in three (3)
years of doing reviews, she never had to comment on a story line.
Nobody had written good enough to pass her first check. Her reviews
consisted of everything, but the story line. Her motto was before there is
a story there are grammar and structure.
The title page came up on her PC screen, "The Genie and the
Cheerleaders by Bob Jones".
Sam thought, "Oh, great another magical giant breasts story from Bob
Jones. Maybe if he repeated the 2nd grade, he might get more than my
cursory attention when I do a review."
Sam read the story. She was surprised this time, the writing was
somewhat better. Not greatly better, but, somewhat. Sam was pleased to
see the improvement in Mr. Jones' work. She knew it was her reviews
that prompted him to improve. On the other hand, his improvement only
got him up to the 3rd grade level. That meant this time, for Mr. Jones
own good, she would be very harsh on him.
"Commas! Doesn't he believe in using commas!" Sam screamed at her
PC screen. Even worse, the section she was looking at was aimed
directly at her.
It read: "The nit-picky English teacher ignored the warning of the
cheerleaders. Her breasts started growing. She was going from a B cup
into the land of volley balls, big big big big big big and bigger she grew.
Her level of horniess grew with her breasts and her inhibitions decreased
with each spurt of growth. Soon she became a slave to her love and
passion."
"Nice try, Mr. Jones. You want to make fun of me? You failed to
remember in a battle between a reviewer and a writer the reviewer wins.
Among other things, I'll just start with your commas," said Sam under
her breath.
Sam began counting the missing commas. She added a little mark for
each missing comma on a piece of paper she had next to the screen. The
paper had a title of "Reviewer's Note Page- The Genie and the
Cheerleaders by Bob Jones". She was placing the marks in a column
with the heading "errors".
She was concentrating on the screen and placed the first mark on the
paper. Then notice that she was being pinched. She stopped her
concentration on the screen. She open her robe and felt her bra. It was
pinching her boob. She adjusted herself and went back to work. She
placed the second mark on the paper and the pinching began again. She
adjusted herself again. She placed the third mark on the paper and the
pinching immediately returned.
"Oh, enough of this," thought Sam. She opened her robe far enough to
where she could reach inside and undo her bra. Her breasts sprung free
and the cold air immediately hardened her nipples. With a "brrrr" Sam
closed the front of her robe and went back to work.
She went back to counting missing comma's and annotating that for her
review. She counted four (4) more missing comma's. She felt a bit
dizzy. She looked back at the PC screen. The cursor was now shooting
across the screen from left to right. She felt a coldness on her breasts.
Sam looked down and gasped.
On top of her keyboard were her breasts. But she was still sitting back in
her chair! Her breasts had become huge and pressed open her robe. She
was spell bound as she saw that her areolas were now almost the size of
saucers. She felt the keyboard pressing into the flesh of her breasts. She
moved her chair back and felt her breasts shift from being supported by
the keyboard to hang free from her chest. They were so large that there
was an audible kerplop as they fell. Sam reached forward and held
them. How could this be her? Reaching to the front of her breasts, her
hands covered her areolas and nipples. She was overwhelmed with a
deep need. A need that at first only said to her the word "more". She
started rubbing her breasts, then kneading her breasts, and then tweaking
her nipples. For the first time in her life, Sam lifted her own breast to
her mouth, and sucked her nipple. She collapsed in the chair as an
orgasm rapidly overtook her.
After a moment or two of rest, Sam got up and looked into the mirror.
She stripped all her clothing off. Her red hair had turned blond. She had
a narrow waist, but, it was even more so now. She still had wide hips,
but, her legs had slimmed down, and her butt had firmed up. But, it was
her breasts that drew Sam's attention. The hung down to between her rib
cage, and belly button. They extended beyond her body on both sides.
They must have extended 8 to 10 inches out from her body. Sam stared
at all of herself. She started smiling. Then she held her head back, and
laughed. This was great. Sam was pleased with her body. She was very
pleased. She was so pleased she wanted to show it off. She knew with a
hot bod like this she could get any man she wanted. That meant she
could have sex. Sam wanted sex. She wanted a lot of sex. She went to
her closet. She found no dresses that would fit. She settled for some
pants that were all too tight on her curves, and a belly shirt. It hadn't
started out as a belly shirt, but, a pair of scissors took care of that. Sam
looked again at the vixen in the mirror. She turned sideways, and smile
at her profile.
"Girl, its time to shop, and then we can go cruising. Cruising for man
meat, Yes!" Sam said in a loud voice.
Raylina, Sam's roommate, was in the next room. They were your typical
odd couple. While Sam had been quite, and conservative. Raylina, even
though she had a Bachelors of Science degree in business, was an
outgoing spirt that thrilled in showing off her body, and had even been in
several armature strip/wet-T shirt contests. Sam's loud voice caused
Raylina to come into the room where Sam was standing.
"Sam, what got into.....Oh, is that you Sam?" asked Raylina.
"How do you like me?" asked Sam as she slowly turned around.
"No, no, this isn't possible. What or how did this happen," stammered
Raylina.
"I don't know. I was just working on a review, and suddenly there's more
of me. I like it. Let's go out. Shopping, then men, ok?" said a horny
Sam.
"Maybe, I ought to get you to a doctor or somebody? This is weird," said
a perplexed Raylina.
"Nooooo. Shopping then BOYS! I am ok. The only doctor I need is one
with a hot beef injection, for me," said Sam.
"Sam, you don't talk like that. I have tried to get you to open up for
three years. Let me feel your head," and Raylina reached out for Sam's
forehead.
Sam grabbed her hand and put it on her breast. Sam smiled from the
feeling.
With her eyes shut, Sam said, "Their real Raylina. They feel good. I feel
good. Just let me be me? Let's go out. Pleaseeeee."
Raylina was shocked. She pulled her hand back. Not too fast though.
"Are you sure you are ok?" asked Raylina.
"I am fine. I am more than fine. I FEEL GREAT! I am not going to any
doctor. I am going shopping, and boy watching. You going with me or
do I go alone?" said Sam.
"You win. Why not? I don't know where you got those from, but, if they
make you happy, why should I say its wrong. But, if anything else
happens to you its to the doctor right away!" said Raylina.
The two women then got dressed and were off to the mall. Sam went on
an incredible shopping spree. She maxed out her credit card on all the
new outfits she bought. She couldn't stop grinning to herself when in the
custom bra shop they had announced her to be a 34J. She was a big girl
now, and wanted the whole world to know too. Since she couldn't get, "I
am a J cup" stenciled on her clothing, she did something better. She
bought all tight clothing or low-cut tops that showed off her enormous
cleavage.
After the mall the two girls were in the car talking.
"You spent a lot of money today Sam," said Raylina.
"Who cares? Let's go after some men now," said Sam.
"I care. We are roommates! You have to pay your share of the rent, you
know," said Raylina.
"Oh, your right. Its just that I feel so free now. I feel really good...
and.... well... Raylina.... I am so horny, I could fuck any man
or......or....woman I can get a hold of," said Sam.
"Wow, what has gotten into you Sam?" asked Raylina.
"Nothing yet, but, I hope so, in just a little while," said a smiling Sam.
"You are wicked! You really mean it? I mean, you didn't use to go for
this kind of stuff, but, with the new you? How about the amateur wet T
shirt contest over at the Bad Lands Topless Review? You gotta be the
biggest girl in town now. You could win us several months rent, if you
take the top prize," asked Raylina.
"What? And parade around half naked? In front of a bunch of horny
men?......... What time does it start?" squealed Sam.
It was about 9:00 p.m. when the contest started. Both Sam and Raylina
had entered. They both had on high heels, thong bikini bottoms and T
shirts. Raylina kept positioning her body to where nobody could get a
good look at Sam. They had both agreed to surprise the audience with
Sam's not too secret weapons. Raylina stood boldly to the front with her
chest thrust out. The guys came up with the seltzer bottle and wetted her
down. The T shirt grew invisible as it became a second skin against her
C cup breasts. Raylina knew the routine and giggled and shouted to the
audience. They were appreciative and shouted back with a mighty roar.
Sam had kept closely pressed against Raylina's back. They would have
asked her forward, but, she had her arms around Raylina's waist and
started feeling Raylina up, after they had wetted down Raylina. The
crowd went so crazy watching Raylina, being felt up, that the seltzer
boys waited to do Sam last. The seltzer boys went on down the line.
There were five other women on stage. Ranging from A to D cups in
size. All were very attractive.
It was finally Sam's turn to be wetted down. She moved out from behind
Raylina. She move to the front of the stage. Her huge breasts were
wobbling from side to side with each step. The crowd went silent. Then
broke out into thunderous cheering. As Sam was wetted down one or
two guys had to be thrown off the stage by the bouncers. The T shirt
virtually disappeared when the water was applied. Sam paraded around
the stage. The hooting and hollering were intoxicating to her. She was
getting very excited. The audience was screaming in unison "take it off,
take it off." Sam smiled. She lifted the T shirt slightly. The crowd
cheered. She pulled it back down. They booed. She then started going
up and down with the T shirt. The crowd cheering and then booing. Sam
was having incredible fun. She felt so, very good, almost like an orgasm.
Finally, her T shirt came all the way off. The crowd screamed so loud
that even the people three businesses down heard them. Sam was having
even more fun now as she paraded around stage in her thong bikini
bottoms, high heels and bouncy boobs. The emcee had to finally tell her
to stop. There was great booing from the crowd and Sam wanted to do
more.
Sam was the winner. She giggled and laughed and blew the audience a
kiss when she was given the $3,000 dollar prize money. Even more than
that, Sam eagerly accepted when the club manager offered her a position
as a stripper at the club. Raylina proved to be more than a party girl.
She hammered out a deal with the club manager on Sam's behalf. What
had started out as an armature wet T shirt contest had ended with Sam's
stripping and Raylina's managing career just starting. Sam never did
return to the erotic story review business.
Unfortunately for The Daily Snodgrass Bust Expansion Gazette, they
were now without a story reviewer. The editor had been caught short
with the no notice quit of Ms. Evans. He replaced her with Sidney
Walbash. Sidney was an alright fellow. He had been around the Gazette
for a couple of years. The only real draw back with Sidney was that he
was a printer, not a reviewer. He gave all of Sam's pending stories
excellent reviews. He thought they all were great. He even sent one
story off to Knocker Girls that was located on the east side of town, and
was just starting to be a major publication. Knocker Girls was looking
for a bust expansion story for its premier national level issue. The story
Sidney sent over was "The Genie and the Cheerleaders" by Bob Jones.
The editor at Knocker Girls liked the story, and thought it held promise.
He paid Sidney a finder's fee and dashed off a letter to Bob Jones.
Bob Jones had been very happy, and upset these last few weeks. He had
gotten a good review, for once, in The Daily Snodgrass Bust Expansion
Gazette, and it also appeared Ms. Evans, his nemesis, was off the
Gazette. However, he had some big financial problems because of
paying for that spell. If he didn't earn some real money soon, he would
be evicted from his apartment by the end of the week. There was no way
his shoe sales job would earn him the money necessary to get him out of
his enormous debt. Every day he checked his mail hopping for some
news. Today, he got that news, he received a letter that read:
Dear Mr. Jones:
Knocker Girls Magazine would be please to print your story "The Genie
and the Cheerleaders" in our first national issue. If you agree, we will
pay you $500 for the story.
On a personal note, I loved your story. Very creative and imaginative.
Could you expand it? We could use an additional 400 words, and would
give you an additional $50 for that effort.
Please contact us no later than May 15.
Sincerely,
Mark Power Editor
Bob's day just went from mixed feelings to fantastic. He screamed and
jumped for joy. This was tempered when he realized this was probably
just the rider on the spell. But, this could still be his big break. He ran
into the house. He got Mr. Power on the phone, and sealed his deal. Bob
was a bit scared about adding to a story that had a spell on it. He asked
Mr. Power how critical was the addition, and he replied that it wasn't
even necessary. They could work around it. Mr. Power wanted Bob to
come by the office first thing tomorrow in order to sign a contract. He
also said, that he loved Bob's work, and wanted to see more.
Bob celebrated that night. At least as far as he could without female
companionship, or even the money to go out. He wouldn't be getting that
check till after he signed the contract. But he was being published!
Latter that evening, he was relaxing. It was a hot night, and all he had
on were his gym shorts. He was about to head off to bed, but decided to
stop by his PC first. He did a bit of work on a new story that he had in
mind. Then suffered from a brain fart, and couldn't think of anything
else to write.
The window was open, and a cool breeze had finally started into the
room. It would feel so good to just sit back and relax. Relax? Hell, let's
celebrate a little more. Bob thought to himself as he pulled "The Genie
and the Cheerleaders" up and onto the screen. This little story, and his
brilliant contract was what got him here. Bob was thinking "Hurray for
me."
He started reading the story again. He loved his story. He loved it even
more when he realized it had gotten Ms. Evans out of his life. He read
and read. This was a good story. Even though he had written the story,
he was turning himself on when he read it. As he got deeper into the
story he had turned himself on to the point of considering to masturbate
while he read. He decided against that. He read more, and almost
unconsciously began rubbing himself through his shorts. He was to the
part of the school teacher's transformation. He knew it would be a mess
but he couldn't stop himself as he rubbed to orgasm. He climaxed and
climaxed and then CLIMAXED. It was so intense that he cried out. He
thought he heard a ripping sound. He collapsed into the chair,
exhausted. He had never had an orgasm as powerful or prolonged as
that. He almost fell asleep.
It was the breeze against Bob's nipples that woke him up. They had
gotten so hard it was almost painful. That wasn't right. Bob opened his
eyes but they wouldn't focus. He rubbed them, and strained, but, it didn't
make any difference. He wasn't feeling right. Not right at all. But, who
cares how he feels, maybe he is going blind! He put his hand out to push
off the chair, and felt something on the desk top. It was glasses.
Glasses? He didn't wear glasses. He pulled them close to his face to
look at them. As he did so, he could see clearly through the lenses.
Puzzled Bob placed the glasses on his head, and instantly had clear
vision.
"What the hell is this?" thought Bob to himself.
Now, that he could see, albeit through suddenly appearing glasses, Bob
focused on how he was feeling weird. It was strange. He couldn't
exactly say what it was. He had odd sensations throughout his body.
Like his nipples. How do your nipples get hard enough to hurt? So, he
felt his........NO!
Bob jumped up and ran, with great difficulty, and great bouncing to the
bathroom, and its large mirror. Bob only needed to see the cosmetic
change, he already new his physical change was into a woman with large
breasts. Staring into the mirror he saw, what he had to admit, was a
beautiful woman (except for the horned rim glasses), long red hair, deep
green eyes, narrow waist, large full ass (large enough to split his gym
shorts), and luscious breasts. His, now her, breasts were beautiful.
Large, but, not overly so, perhaps between a D and DD cup.
"That wizard! We had a contract this can't happen. He's gonna fix this!"
screamed Bob in a sultry sexy voice to herself in the mirror. Almost
mockingly her breasts bounced and jiggled with every angry out burst.
"Stop that!" scream Bob as she grabbed her breasts.
"It's not all bad....mmmmm," moaned Bob.
"No, no, its part of his spell. I have to....have fun," said Bob as she
went to bed, and brought herself to orgasm two more times before going
to sleep.
The next morning Bob was up early. She had to put on her glasses to see
clearly. Then she went to put on some pants. Went that is, none would
go up and over her ass. A very pissed off Bob grabbed a T shirt, and
covered herself with a floor length raincoat. Then Bob headed down to
Spells-R-Us. The mall had just opened when Bob arrived.
"Hi Bob!" said the old man as Bob entered the shop.
"Hi, my ass! How do you explain this?" demanded Bob.
"Explain what?" said the old man.
"THIS, NOW FIX IT!" shouted Bob, as she opened the rain coat, and
exposed herself clad only in a T shirt.
"Of, course, good point," said the old man. With a wave of his hand
there was a brilliant flash.
Bob now stood holding open a floor length mink coat, and was wearing a
very small thong bikini. Her large breasts now stood prominently from
her chest thanks to the bikini top. Bob quickly closed the coat.
"Quit that! I am a woman. Change me back into a man. You violated
the contract," said Bob. As if to emphasis her last point, she slammed her
hand down on the counter top. This merely succeeded in getting her
breasts to jiggle again.
"Tisk, tisk, tisk Bob. You were wanking the old willy last night while
reading the story, weren't you?" said the old man.
"What of it?" said an embarrassed Bob.
"What is that called Bob?" asked the old man.
"You know darn good and well, its called masturbation," said Bob.
"No, not the words I am looking for. Isn't it also called self-abuse?"
said the old man.
"So, what?" said Bob.
"The contact says who ever abuses you with the story shall be punished.
The word abuse should be interpreted in the widest way possible. Self-
abuse is abuse. I didn't violate the contract, more importantly I
ENFORCED the contract. From now on you won't be abusing your willy
while reading that story," said the old man with a smile on his face.
"Crap. You fucked me!" said Bob.
"No I didn't. However, you do look good. If you want...." said the old
man.
"Piss off," interrupted Bob.
"Hey, you brought it up, sweetie. It would be a breach of my
professional ethics to be with you anyway," said the old man
"So, what the hell am I suppose to do now?" asked Bob.
"Aren't you due in a meeting over at Knocker Girls? I know you have
money problems. You want to miss that meeting and maybe get thrown
out of your apartment as a result? Hey, you could make a living on the
streets now, with no problem. A killer bod like yours would be worth
some real money," said the old man.
"Double crap! How am I suppose to go anywhere? I can't go like this,"
said Bob as she held the mink coat open exposing her beautiful body
"No you can't," the old man waved his hand. With another flash of light
the mink coat and bikini disappeared, for just a glimpse, Bob was seen
naked. Then another flash, and she was in a conservative grey woman's
business suit with skirt and white shirt. Her hair was now done up in a
tight bun that exaggerated the look of her horned rim glasses. "Now, you
can. Look, they don't know you over there. Tell them Bob is short for
Bobbie. I'll call ahead for you, cause you are late as it is," said the
old man.
"I want to be changed back!" said Bob.
"We gonna argue my tricks or are you going to pass up $500?" asked the
old man.
"Damn you, I'll be back," said Bob.
With disgust Bob turned and left the counter. The skirt and high heels
were a new experience to walk in, as was wearing a bra. Though the bra
had kept her breasts from jiggling as much, she felt every inch of her
breasts being held within it. The more Bob thought about her breasts
being held the more excited she became. So, she shifted her attention to
her skirt, and shoes. The skirt was very tight, and they were 3" heels.
Bob knew she had a seductive wiggle to her walk with each step. By the
time Bob made it to her car, she was aware, that even in her
"conservative outfit", she must appear to be extremely sexy. Due to
traffic, it was over an hour to get over to Knocker Girls.
On the way over to Knocker Girls, Bob started thinking about the story
she had written. She thought about it long and hard. Then it dawned on
her. It was a grammatically poor story. If she didn't improve her style, it
would be a waste of time to be published. Nobody will want more
stories, if her first one is hard to read. Then Bob realized how the story's
grammar could be improved, and also believed she could construct a
better story. Oh wow, she had picked up the English skills of the teacher
in her own story. Hmm, it wasn't all bad. Maybe, she could keep that
knowledge after she found a way to get the wizard to change her back.
Rats! Now, she had to work out some kind of deal on the story. She
could fix it, but, that would take time, and she needed the money today.
Money, yea, money, more than anything else she had to come up with
some money fast, or she would lose her apartment. The last thought she
had, as she pulled into the Knocker Girls parking lot, was that she had to
come up with an approach that would buy her time to fix the story, and
at the same to get some money out of Knocker Girls.
"You must be the new model. We got the call about you. You're late,
but we make exceptions for beautiful women," said the photographer
that met her at the building's door.
"No, I am here to see Mr. Power. I am Bob, ah, Bobbie Jones. I wrote
"The Genie and the Cheerleaders". I need to see him about my contract,"
said Bob.
"Sorry, my mistake. You are very attractive. My model is running late. I
can take you to Mr. Power, its just down the hallway to the left," The
smiling photographer lead Bobbie to Mr. Power's office.
"Mark, this is Bobbie Jones. She says she's here about a story. I am
looking for a late model, gotta split, Chow," and the photographer was
back out the door.
As the photographer was leaving Mr. Power called out, "Hang on. We
got some problems in your shoot. I'll see you when I am done with Ms.
Jones."
"Please excuse me Ms. Jones. Have a seat, please. We are always busy
here. Let's discuss your story, but, first, I must apologize. I thought from
our phone conversation yesterday, that you were a man. When your
agent called me a few minutes ago, to explain you would be late, he said
that besides writing, I should consider you for inclusion in the magazine
as a model. I can see his point was well taken. First, let's discuss your
story. I am even more impressed by it now. The writing appears to be
written from a man's perspective instead of the beautiful woman that
wrote it," said Mr. Power.
"Let me say that I can fully appreciate a man's perspective," said a still
upset Bob.
"Ok, bottom line. I want your story for this issue. Its our big issue.
First one nation wide. I want this to be a special grab the attention of
the world kind of stuff. Now, were still having some model problems as
you can see, but, I want that story. Something to stiffen readers between
photos, if you know what I mean, oh, I am sorry. That didn't come out
right," said Mr. Power.
"No, its ok. I want to be straight forward too. This is my big chance for
nation wide exposure. I want that to be my best work. Frankly, "The
Genie and the Cheerleaders" needs some basic structure and grammar
work before its ready for publication...." said Bob.
Bob felt a rapid swelling in her breasts. She remembered the contract.
Any abuse it read. She realized, if she talked bad about the story it
would be abuse. Despite some obvious changes in her taking place, she
got out one last portion of the sentence.
"...... Oh! No! I meant to say, it's a great story!" gasped Bob
The growing sensation stopped, but, at the same time a solitary button
popped from the top of Bob's blouse, then another and another. Her shirt
opened like a mouth, and exposed the top of a D cup bra, that was
holding obviously G cup breasts. The front of her breasts were still held
by the bra. Her G cup size breasts were sticking nearly straight up, and
over the top of the bra. It looked as though Bob's cleavage was trying to
hit her in the chin. Bob worked awkwardly trying to close her blouse up,
but, to no avail. She was afraid to take the bra off. She thought maybe
they might get bigger if unrestrained. She had to wait a few moments for
the spell's impact to wear off.
Mr. Power was agoged, but, rapidly recovered. "I don't know why you
did that. What, did something break? That agent of yours hinted this
might happen! Would you take off your glasses? How long is your
hair?"
Bob was puzzled, but, she took off her glasses anyway. "My hair goes
about four inches below my shoulders. Er.... ah....Look, Mr. Power, I
was afraid.... if you saw my large chest you wouldn't take me seriously as
an author. Yes, that's it....No, I mean, that's why I was small looking
before," said Bob.
Mr. Power saw her lips move, (and what lips!) but, didn't really hear her.
She was beautiful! Her face with those glasses off was angelic, even
though she wore a woman's business suit she had a body that cried out
for sex. Her now obviously huge breasts were very impressive. He
wanted her. More importantly, he needed her.
"You are perfect, perfect, perfect! Look, Ms. Jones. Forget the story. I
want you. Be my model for the premier issue. Our centerpiece model
quit on us 20 mins ago. I can use you for a gimmick that always works.
The bookworm that's really the beautiful model. We can play it up. We
did have some girl on girl planned. Wait, we can still do that too. You
and Julie would be perfect! Yes, please! Here's the deal. You model,
now, $10,000 today via check, if after publication we go over 1 million
in distribution, I'll bonus you $25,000 and pay double that per spread
there after, subject to renegotiation after two years".
"I thought we were talking stories?" said Bob.
"I thought you were exposing yourself? We got a deal or what? Your
agent, what was that old man's name?....Hmm,... doesn't matter, he said
you had a special surprise for me when he called. Well, you surprised
me, and have impressed me from the second I met you. We got a deal or
what?" asked Mr. Power.
[$10,000 today no less. He thinks that I am great. Shit, if I can get that
here what about else where? Man, I can use that kind of money. A
lousy $500 got me here. I need the money and crap, I am beautiful.
Wouldn't I be a hypocrite if after all those years of looking in mag's, I
wouldn't pose when asked? Hell, take the money and run,] thought
Bob."We got a deal Mr. Power," said Bob extending her hand.
"Great, great, great," said Mr. Power. He hit the intercom, "Stop the
presses! Ernest your new model is here and ready to go. Get your butt in
here now!.... I always wanted to say that"
Ernest turned out to be the same photographer that Bob had meet earlier.
After some more discussions and phone calls by Ernest to the photo set,
the three of them headed over to the studio. Ernest and Mark (Mr.
Power) had a quiet discussion as the trio walked. Bob did not hear what
they were saying as she was too busy trying to control her now very large
breasts that spilled over the top of her bra. With every step her breasts
jiggled and threatened to burst not only more buttons on her blouse, but,
her bra as well. At the set, besides the normal support crew, there were
two women; only one appeared to be a model, and what a model! She
was beautiful and very busty. Bob guessed her to be at about 5' 7", long
blond hair, with blue eyes, and measured around 46-22-36. Bob had
what was at least a G cup herself, but, this model was much larger than
her. Perhaps an I cup or larger. The model's large breasts excited Bob.
The model was struggling to get into a school girl's outfit. Her huge
chest was making closing the shirt to be quite the undertaking.
Watching her fight with the blouse, and then push, and adjust her boobs
was very stimulating. Bob was pleased that she still had an attraction for
women. Elsewhere on the set, people were running about setting up a
school room layout. There were also video cameras on the set.
"Bob this is Jiggling Julie and that's her manager over to the left. What
we want to do is get some school teacher and student shots. You'll be
the teacher. We'll work on the blouse and I got an idea on how to work
that undersized bra in. Here's the scene, you'll discipline Julie then the
tables get turned and we end up with some sex shots. Simulated of
course. The video is here just to record our shoot for posterity. You
know, first national shoot of a new magazine," said Ernest.
"Wait, we didn't discuss any video work," said Bob.
"She's right, I want 1% of net, on all future sales, and an extra $1,000
dollars for my client today or the shoot is off," said Julie's manager.
"Me too," said Bob.
"Fine, you got me over a barrel. But, I expect some enthusiasm, girls!"
said Mr. Power.
Ernest went to work finalizing the set. He taped down Bob's breasts so
her white blouse would close. He then stood her by the blackboard. He
finalized Julie's outfit and had her sit at a desk.
Jiggling Julie was a bisexual, very horny, and uninhibited woman. She
took an instant liking to Bob. There was just something about Bob that
was very sexy. Julie had felt indifference to this shoot. Now, she
suddenly was looking forward to it. Perhaps, those sex shots wouldn't be
"simulated" if Julie had anything to do with it.
"Ok girls, almost there. I'll get my camera and we'll get busy. The video
will be running from now until the end of the shoot," said Ernest
Various stage hands were running about. Lights were going into last
minute positions. Wardrobe people were ensure Julie and Bob looked
right. They even got Bob's boobs taped down and around her sides, so, it
looked like she was only a D cup. While the last minute preparations
were taking place, Julie and Bob had time to briefly talk.
"Julie, you look very familiar. Do I know you?" said Bob.
"Do you frequent many strip clubs? I haven't been in a magazine before.
Are you a stripper? You sure have the build to be one. You look kind of
familiar to me too," said Jiggling Julie.
"Time to get started girls. Ok, Bob, point at the black board with the
pointer. Julie frown and shake your head. Great," said Ernest.
"Now, Bob go over and act like your striking Julie's outstretched palm.
No not like that. Ok, go ahead and move the pointer up and down.
Great," said Ernest.
"Ok, now, Julie, bend over the desk and have Bob act like she is hitting
your bottom. That's it," said Ernest.
"Now, Julie, wave your hands at Bob. That's it, like you're casting a
spell. Perfect," said Ernest.
"Come here Bob. We going to get that tape off of you. Open your
blouse. Now, we get your boobs back to bulging and the buttons look
like they are ripping. Yea, that's it. Now get a surprised look on your
face and stand back from Julie. Great," said Ernest.
"Now, Julie, go up and rip the rest of Bob's blouse off. Leave her
standing with her boobs bulging way out of the bra. Bob stand there
with your hands next to your face in surprise. Perfect," said Ernest.
"Ok, Julie take a pair of scissors, cut the pull cords off the hanging maps
then tie Bob up. Take the towel from that table on the left and gag Bob
as well. Bob' keep staring at your chest in disbelief. Yea, that's it.
Doing good, girls," said Ernest.
"Bend Bob over the large teacher's desk and then cut her dress, panties,
and bra off, with the scissors," said Ernest.
Bob is bent over the desk. Julie comes up behind her and caresses her
body. Bob begins to feel very warm inside. She feels a closeness to
Julie that she wants to explore. Bob begins to fantasize about Julie and
her large breasts. Her daydreaming is stopped when she realizes her
clothes have been completely cut off of her. She begins rolling and
trying to jump but she is tied and gagged. Her nipples harden as she
raises off the remnants of her bra. There is a slight jiggle to her well
formed and full ass when she tries to get up. Her large breasts flail from
side to side and up and down with her movements. Her screams are
muffled by the gag.
"I love it! Perfect. Keep it up Bob. Now, Julie strip your clothes off.
Spank Bob's bottom and then rub your body against hers. Then take off
Bob's glasses and let her hair down," says Ernest.
Julie's school girl clothes quickly come off. She is standing naked. Her
breasts hang down her rib cage and approach her navel. She has a wasp
waist. She has wide hips and a nice heart-shaped ass. Her long blond
hair cascades down her back. She bends Bob over the desk again and
spanks her. Bob is still struggling. Her breasts shake and shimmy with
each move.
Julie turns Bob up right. She pulls off the glasses and lets down Bob's
hair.
"Bob, you are beautiful!" says an impressed Julie. Then Julie pulls down
Bob's gag.
"My clothes! You cut up my clothes! What am I going to wear home?"
yells Bob.
"Oh, no! I thought you were in wardrobe. Crap," said Ernest.
"Fine, fine, fine. Sugar daddy to the rescue. Bob, it would be my
pleasure to buy you several replacement outfits. Plus, you can take
anything you want out of wardrobe to get home," said Mr. Power.
"A body like yours shouldn't be covered up honey," said Julie. Then
Julie kissed Bob full on the lips. Julie had become more and more
excited as the photo shoot had progressed. She now knew she wanted
Bob. She wanted her, here, now, and in front of everybody. Her hands
went around Bob's head as she pulled their mouths together. Their
tongues entwined.
Bob felt Julie's tongue enter her mouth. It was wonderful. She felt their
huge breasts rub together. Their nipples touched. It was as though
electricity had entered Bob's breasts. She wanted more, she needed
more.
Julie got Bob back on the desk top. She moved the towel gag high
enough for it to be used as a blind fold. She then started kissing Bob all
over her body. She held each of Bob's breasts up. She squeezed them
together. She placed her mouth over one of Bob's nipples and sucked.
Bob let out a long deep moan. Bob felt her nipple in Julie's mouth. The
tenderness, sensual nature of the touch, and warmth washed over Bob's
consciousness. It increased, Bob moaned more and louder.
"Oh, our dirty little teacher likes her titties sucked? Well, we must make
teacher happy!" said Julie. She then began sucking and kneading Bob's
breasts. She lightly bit the nipples. She gently twisted them. She
pushed both breasts together and sucked both nipples at once. She had
Bob laying on the table. She stood over Bob's head. She moved down
Bob's body. Julie put one of Bob's nipples in her mouth, while Bob
sucked one of Julie's nipples. A sort of titty 69.
Bob sucked for a few moments then it happened. Bob's hips started
bucking. She screamed out in pleasure. An intense orgasm swept over
Bob's body. It subside and Bob began greedily sucking at Julie's nipple.
She licked and sucked the large breast that nearly covered her face. Julie
backed off. She removed the blind fold and then place her breasts over
Bob's eye sockets. She then massaged Bob's breasts.
Bob orgasmed again. Bob was getting hornier and hornier. Each orgasm
was intense but brought a desire for more. Bob wanted that soppy wet
void between her legs filled. She needed it to be filled. "Fuck me, Fuck
me, FUCK ME!" begged an uncontrollable Bob
Julie looked to the left of the set. There was a strap on dildo within her
reach. Leaving a moaning and writhing Bob on the desk top, Julie
quickly put on the strap on device. Julie gave her own moan of pleasure
as the base of the dildo stimulated her clit. She then approached Bob
above Bob's crotch area. Moving her head rapidly past the crotch she put
her arms under both of Bob's legs and lifted them up as she moved up
her body. She lingered briefly to suck Bob's breasts and then rub nipple
to nipple as she got higher on her torso. Bob's legs were lifted almost to
her shoulders. Her womanhood was easily accessible. Her excitement
glistened in the lights of the photography studio.
Julie brought her face close to Bobs.
Bob continued to give out little whimpering moans, "fuck me, please,
fuck me, oh dear gawd, I need to be fucked, please"
Julie smiled. "My dirty little teacher is going to get fucked. I am going
to fuck you like you have never been fucked before. But, you gotta beg
for it," said Julie.
"Please, please. Fuck me. I am a dirty little teacher slut whore, please
fuck me....YES," screamed Bob.
Bob felt the dildo enter her. A thousand never endings came to life as
the dildo thrust into her. A low moan and then gasp escaped Bob's lips as
the dildo slid full length into her eagerly awaiting pussy. It rapidly
withdrew and then re-entered, and with each thrust Bob emitted moans
and gasps of pleasure. Julie was in the throws of ecstasy as well. With
each thrust she felt her clit was being massaged. She was leaning
forward, her breasts were swaying with each thrust and gently rubbing on
Bob's breasts. She loved hearing Bob moan. Julie moved her arms and
let Bob's legs down. Bob quickly wrapped them around Julie. She used
her heels as spurs to pull Julie's butt closer. Bob was enraptured with
the feel of the dildo as it drove deeper into her pussy with each spur.
She raised her hips up to meet Julie's thrusts. This was wonderful. Soon
both were enraptured in orgasm.
Julie then rolled Bob over. She crawled up on the large teacher's desk
behind Bob. With Bob on her hands and knees, Julie entered Bob's
pussy from behind. The cycle started over again. This time with each
thrust two sets of huge breasts were shaking to and fro accompanied by a
pair of moans and gasps. Bob's breasts hung down past her elbows. She
could feel the weight and movement. The air over her nipples as her
breasts shook was an exquisite feeling. Julie started leaning forward over
Bobbie's back. Julie's breasts were so large that they actually rested on
Bobbie's back. Julie was thrusting faster and faster. Both girls' breasts
jiggled and bounced with abandoned as their passion built to higher and
higher levels.
Bob and Julie both felt a level of passion never felt before in their
lives. Bob was first over the brink. She screamed as a final satisfying
orgasm over took her mind. Bob's moaning and screaming sent Julie
over the brink as well. She too started to scream with her orgasm of a
life time.
Julie, pulled out of Bob and collapsed on the desk top. Bob laid on her
side beside her. The two held each other in a warm embrace.
"Oh my gawd. Now, that was sex. Oh, honey, please, we need to see
each other after this," said Julie.
"I am sore, where I never thought I would feel sore. But, it was
wonderful," said Bob and the two started kissing.
"Great! Fantastic! Superb! You two know how to enliven a shoot.
Yahoo!" said Mr. Power
"Almost ran me out of film. Good job, girls," said Ernest.
Both Bob and Julie now remembered where they were. In fact they got a
little embarrassed about the way they had acted. Bob looked for clothes
to cover up and realized all of her clothes, except for her jacket, had
been cut to ribbons.
"This is going to be a killer edition. That tape is going to sell, sell,
sell. You girls need anything you just ask Mark Power!" said Mr. Power.
"Ah, clothes," said Bob.
"No, that's clothes and a check. Ernest! Get some clothes for one of our
two best models. I need to go, but, you girls were wonderful. Count me
as a fan. Good-bye," said Mr. Power as he left.
"I think somebody has the hot's for you. You wanta fuck your way to the
top?" Julie whispered into Bob's ear.
Bob giggled and whispered back, "You're bad!"
"I know, I am better when I am bad," giggled back Julie.
"Mmm, I want to see you again," said Bob.
"Why again? Why not go back to my place and see how good you can be
without a crowd? Do you mind if my manager Raylina joins us? Would
you like that Raylina?" said Julie.
"Sam, I like just about everything you do. Your friend Bob there looks
like our kind of fun." said Raylina. Then she burst out laughing and
laughing.
"What's so funny?" asked Julie.
"Its just you and Bob. Yes, there goes Bob and Sam, they are girl
friends. Its funny and sounds like its little ole me that's getting two
guys!" said. Raylina.
"Raylina, I have asked you to call me by my stage name of Julie. There
is no more Sam Evans. Besides, I bet Bob is short for Bobbie anyway.
Isn't it Bob?"
Bob was confused. She had money, a source of income and the best sex
of her life. She sighed, "Yes, I suppose it is short for Bobbie."
"Ok, its all settled then. Its back to my place, just as soon as we get
Ernest here to get you some clothes," said Julie.
The three got dressed and left the offices of the magazine. What seemed
could not occur, did occur. The sex got even better that night. Bob or
Bobbie as she preferred to be called became the submissive in a
dominate/submissive relationship with both Julie and Raylina. She
became a prisoner of her own passions. Julie became the warder of
Bobbie's prison. But she was an imprisoned warden. Though she
dominated the relationship, it was she that wore the strap on, it was she
that directed when and where sex would occur; she was just as much a
prisoner of the intense passion in each of their encounters as was Bobbie.
She lead in the sex, but, had no more ability to quit the relationship than
Bobbie did. The only person in this relationship that was not a prisoner
was Raylina. She enjoyed the liaisons, but, lead her own life. She was
the free spirit she had always been.
Several months went by before Bobbie was able to returned to Spells-R-
Us. It had taken months for Bobbie to develop control over her passions
for Julie. The mere thought of Julie would get Bobbie so hot that she
either had to make love to Julie, or Raylina, or both, or to repeatedly
masturbate. She was a love slave. She was at the whims of Julie.
Whatever Julie said, Bobbie had to do. With the passage of time she did
develop some control over her thoughts. Unfortunately or fortunately,
with control of her thoughts came the realization that she had really
fallen in love with Julie. She was happy with her life of passion and
developing relationship with Julie, but, hey, she wasn't suppose to be a
she to begin with! Remembering who HE was suppose to be, Bobbie
exercised enough control to go back to Spells-R-Us. It was a warm
Spring day when she re-entered the shop.
"Hi Bob, I mean Bobbie," said the old man from behind the counter.
"Look, its taken a while for me to get back, but,..... the contract. Give
a girl a break, please? Live up to the contract," said Bobbie as she leaned
forward on the counter. Bobbie's breasts were large and her top a little
low cut. The counter held Bobbie's breasts as she leaned forward. She
didn't notice that she had almost lifted both breasts out of her blouse by
leaning on the counter. The old man had a view of two G cup breasts
almost fully exposed.
"Do I do good work or what?" said the old man as he admired the view
of Bobbie's cleavage.
"Yikes, I am still not use to these," said Bobbie. She rapidly backed
away
from the counter and adjusted her bra.
"Where's Julie? Don't you want to be with her?" asked the old man.
Bobbie started getting excited just from hearing her name called. Julie,
oh, yes Julie. "She is going on an overseas tour. We are all suppose to
go together, oh, my Julie.....Hey! You know what saying her name would
do to me. Now stop that!" said Bobbie.
"Don't fret girly. You'll get a handle on the situation. Said you were
leaving? Well, maybe you need a going away gift? It will be free," said
the old man with a big smile.
"No! In fact. I am here about the contract. Its void. I was never
published. I want to be changed back into my old self and my money
back," said Bobbie.
The old man reached under the counter. He pulled out the premier issue
of Knocker Girls. On the cover was a frontal picture of Bobbie naked on
all fours her breasts hung down past her elbows. Julie was mounted
behind her with her large breasts resting on Bobbie's back. Both of them
were staring into the camera in the midst of a simultaneous orgasm.
"Bobbie, dear, this issue sold 3 million copies, you don't get anymore
published than that," said the old man "Also, you are now getting fucked
by Sam Evans on a regular basis, which was the situation you said was
happening before contract. Everything is just like you asked for in the
contract; abusers punished along the story line, you are published, and no
changes. Now, how about a nice fertility statue that will fix it to where
you two can have children, or perhaps another contract?"
"Oh, shit!" was the only thing Bobbie said as she fled the shop.
Bobbie went back to Julie and Raylina. The three fell into a very
profitable life style. Raylina was the business manager. Jiggling Julie
was a stripper and magazine model. Bobbie became a sex show partner
for Julie, a magazine model, and eventually got an additional job running
a writing tips/story's review column in Knocker Girls. Both Julie and
Bobbie loved each other very much. As strange as the relationship was,
all three lead a very happy life.
What happen to the old man and his wolf? They staid very busy, but,
that's another story.
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