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Previously, on Do Rubber Bunnies Dream of Electric Latex Sheep

A story for anyone who has ever woken with bits missing, or found new bits curiously attached.

The following is brought to you, courtesy of FA: raelbny One of the kindest, kinkiest, sexiest, and most patient people I know.

Disclaimers : This twisted tale of electrical switcheroo features gender transformation, and characters who blur the lines some may draw between them. This is not is meant to be a statement on real world gender issues, those who are intersex, or the transgender. As always, treat fantasies as fantasies, and people as people, and you should not go too far wrong.

Mari is described as short for her age, but her body is 100% adult, as anyone who has ever gotten a good look can well attest. Her actual age can be measured in centuries. Thus, in form as well as function, she is an adult, and any reference to her as the "infernal lolita" is simply a descriptive flourish.

Finally, this tale deals with infernal forces and may hover about questionable areas of consent. If you find yourself suddenly empowered by demonic powers, please be more considerate than Mari. Maybe become a super hero or something. I hear they're back in season.

Please to Enjoy!

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Do Rubber Bunnies Dream of Electric Latex Sheep 2: Electric Boogaloo By Bishie Bunny

How many sheep does one have to count before blessed oblivion comes? Just one, as it turns out, assuming that one happens to be yourself.

Rael fussed with her ruffles and lace as she wandered about, hoping to stumble across a creek, or better yet, an elf-owned laundromat. Little buggers were wizards when it came to domesticated tasks, and they worked for cream. Still, she would have settled for a fresh-water spring, or even a dryad's scrying pool; anything cool, clear, and liquid would do. The tuffet stains could wait, but curds and whey had a nasty habit of settling right into the fabric and clinging on for dear life.

He could not remember purchasing the outfit, but the mass of baby-blue satin and creamy frills had to have been expensive. It came complete with an appropriately coy apron, tied to his waist by a silk ribbon, knotted in a charmingly over-sized bow. Wherever it had come from, he was not ready to consider it an acceptable loss in the war between a terrified young man and the biggest god damn spider he had ever seen.

Not that what he left of it was liable to continue terrorizing the tuffet side.

You simply did not sneak up on a Rael bunny while he was miserably chocking down the missing link between cottage cheese and a bowl full of spoiled milk. What was left of that bowl lay in fragments about a thoroughly bludgeoned arachnid. Like the remnants of his breakfast, he was happy to leave them there, unmourned. The dress was another matter and in serious need of some TLC if he meant to wear it out of here, wherever here was.

The sound of sobbing caught him up short. He paused to consider the source, standing ankle deep in grass colored the broken green of a hastily applied Crayola. In general, seeing to a stranger's sorrow was a fifty-fifty shot in most fairy tale circumstances.

Could be a disguised fairy, looking to grant wishes for the price of a shoulder to sob on, and enough spare change to score a cup of coffee. Technically, it was the coffee creamer they were after, but snagging a handful of those without the brew lead to getting tossed out of the diner on your glittery bottom. On the other hand, it could be a shape-shifting ogre, looking to snatch a sloppy kiss before pulling out the stew pot. They never quite managed to grasp the whole hot tub business.

Most like it was a damsel in fresh distress, which was an even iffier gamble, particularly if you were shy of magical swords or seventh son birthrights. Still, Rael did not have it in him to walk away. Spend a few drunken nights sprawled out on dance floor after close, sobbing over untapped potential, and you learned to be sympathetic. He headed toward the noise, rationalizing the risk away with thoughts of asking directions, once all appropriate back-pats had been given.

He found the damsel crying under a waxy, canary-yellow sun. Short enough for adolescence, yet stacked enough to be well past puberty, the heartbroken young woman was an olive-skinned beauty, her hair a shockingly intense shade of fuchsia. Her outfit was similar to his own, perhaps a few extra bows and ribbons, capped by a late-Victorian hat which was certainly nicer then his billowy bonnet. The whole ensemble was a shimmery electric blue, fringed in midnight lace. Most curious of all was the silver staff the she was leaning against, twice her height and half again Rael's own. The metallic stick was crooked at the end and twisted through-out, as though it were an especially complicated ram's horn having grown beyond all restraint.

"Hey now, hon?" Rael began, keeping an eye out for wyverns and jealous unicorns, "I don't know what the deal is, and if you would just as soon be left alone, I absolutely get that." He blinked, taking a step back when azure orbs, deep enough to dive into, settled on his features with an unexpected intensity. It took him a moment to find his footing in the face of that, strangely familiar gaze. "I mean, any girl weeping while wearing an outfit like that, it's gotta be bad. Still, I'll help if I can."

The woman sighed, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief the color of a starling's hood, monogrammed in silver thread with an unreadable symbol. "It's my sheep."

Rael took a moment to process this, having been too caught up watching the young lady's lips move. A shade of electric blue that rich, expertly applied to a mouth that lush? It was beyond a crime; it was an outright sin. Granted, no less a sin than the thoughts that sprang to mind while watching them in motion. "Sh-sheep?"

"Yeah, I lost the little mother fuckers," Exotic features scrunched as elegantly arched brows furrowed. The foul words were at odds with her beauty, dissolving any notions of purity that might have been otherwise assumed. "Haven't a damn clue where to find them."

"Buh...?" Rael's squeaked, trying to process this new information. Apparently this "hon" had a mouth on her. Not that he cared, having a pretty open-door policy when it came to profanity. A bad word wasn't a bad word unless you wasted it calling out some asshole. Better to save it for later when you explained to that asshole just how hard you wanted your own to be reamed. Still, it did kind of break the serenity of the setting, to say nothing of their outfits.

Why get all dressed up if you weren't going to act the part?

"Baaah?" The young woman asked, shadowed eyes narrowing. Turning her staff over in her hand, she thrust the business end to collide against Rael's gut with breath stealing force. "You wouldn't be hiding some of my god damned sheep, would you? Maybe in all those harlot frills?"

Grunting, Rael grabbed the hook of the young woman's staff, only to release it immediately when a static discharge stung his fingers with an audible crack. "Fuck! W-we're practically wearing the same thing you miserable little snot! And no, I doOon't... don't have your damn sheep, either. Where in hell are your parents?"

"Parents?" The young woman blinked, "Little? Yo-you think I'm little?" Spreading her arms, the dark-skinned beauty began to tremble, and all around her, so did the world. The paper-white horizon crumpled lightly at the edges, while the forest green grass began to roll as though in agony. Suddenly, she rose, her body taking on size and shape that broke all sense of scale for the confused, pink-furred rabbit. Up and up she rose, towering on an extended hoop skirt that ruffled and writhed as though a thousand hidden bodies ground against one another in erotic bliss, somewhere underneath the fabric. "Didn't you know? I go on for miles, and miles!"

Rael fell hard on his backside, trying to process growth beyond anything one might find behind the looking glass. Worse was the understanding that came with it, an understanding that etched itself hard into his grey meat with all the undeniable depth of zealous faith. Impossible but true, irrational, yet at that moment, nothing more rational existed. It was like having an ice berg flip up its petticoat and giving one a peek at everything that lay underneath. "B-baAAAaaah!"

"I knew it!" The incredible growing young woman exclaimed, suddenly shrinking back down to her original height. The crayon-rendered world gave a whimpering grunt, as though having to swallow all the excess she had stuffed back in. Holding her staff high, she swirled it around, while royal purple clouds began to gather overhead. Suddenly, a fat, jagged bolt of laser-lemon yellow stuck its curved top, lighting into suddenly real, suddenly not so scribbled, azure tendrils of arching electricity. The smell of ozone filled the air while the sparks danced along the interior of the young woman's crook, gathering speed as they leap from one side to the other, until they created a web of brilliant crackle.

His hands flung over his mouth, Rael tried his damnedest not to utter a sound, terrified that it would come out as another "baAahble," which could only encourage the wild young woman, whose eyes had begun to glow like suns made of cobalt glass.

"Hah!" With a squeal of triumph that bordered on the orgasmic, she slashed down with her electric buzzsaw, spinning merrily within the crook of her staff. Grass stains and spilled not-quite-milk faded in importance as her target's dress was sliced neatly down the middle. The lacy apparel not only burst along the newly made seam, the edges caught with a bright, blueish flame.

Rael let loose another panicked sheep squeak as she tore off the flaming fabric, rolling away before it could scorch her fur. When she came to a halt, bare but for bonnet and white stockings, she realized that singed fur was the least of her worries. You couldn't burn what wasn't there to being with. Smooth black skin caught her eyes. She brought an ebony palm to her face, studying it as though it were alien, yet it responded to her will. W-wait, her will? Her? In a fume that came out more petulant than especially convincing, "I- I'm... not this! This isn't me!"

"Me thinks the maiden doth protest too girly to be taken seriously," chuckled the cruel woman above, dropping her staff to one side and pouncing the squirming, confused sheep. Her soft body, barely restrained by her constricting outfit, ground pleasantly plump curves along Rael's smooth, obsidian form.

S-she's right, Rael thought, refusing to utter it aloud. The voice she had used to deny the truth? It had been every bit as feminine as the mad young woman grinding sinfully along her body. How could you deny something when your own voice refused to obey? Only the rising stiffness between her legs gave any indication of masculinity, and she was far too familiar with all the varieties a gender might express itself to give an excited cock the deciding vote.

Hell, it really had nothing to do with her voice either, or anything external. Being female was now simply etched into her essence. It was how she thought of herself, and even had she retained the male bunny body, it would not have changed the fact of her new existence. The silly frilly bunny had never been especially attached to any particular gender, but the loss of self, molded to the whims of another? She wanted to vomit, or maybe toss back a stiff, fruity drink.

Drink, then vomit?

"Really Fuchsia, you thought you could hide?" The mad woman, when writhing with such amorous precision, was no longer easy to mistake for someone below the legal age. If anything, her sensual touch, the weight of her erotic presence, it was the sort of predatory seduction that took a lifetime to master. Then there were the numerous curves she used to ever possible advantage. One of those curves was more curious, and insistent, than all the rest. It pulsed hungrily against satin fabrics, lurking between the smaller woman's thighs, waiting. "And really, such a fuss you're making. I know one part of you that's awfully glad to see me." As she spoke, her agile digits began to dance ever southward, while wet, lipstick-staining kisses made their own way north.

Ra- Rae...Fuchsia moaned softly, hating herself for being so weak, hating herself for adopting the name so completely. W-wait, what had been her name before? Nnn, her inescapable lover was getting so close, she could feel her erection plumping in response, anticipating the touch to come. Insane harpy or not, Fuchsia yearned for it, surging against her own flesh, enduring a hardness so tight, it burned.

"Oh, whoops," the wild woman giggled, shaking her head, fingers pressing suddenly between Fuchsia's thighs. "Isn't that just a bitch? I finally find my sheep and here she has gone and lost her dick."

Fuchsia was in mid-gasp, waiting for a touch that would not come, could not come, when her eyes went wide. "W-whAaaat?"

"No worries, fuck-slut," cooed the woman whose face never quite managed to match the sharpness of her tongue. Hands abandoning black-skinned thighs, they reached down to her own bundle to pull, lifting her skirt and ruffles like a curtain of velvet and lace. What slunk forward was no actor, more a conquer worm. Thick and slick, glistening with anticipation, a big, sloppy cock, every bit as dirty as the mind of the woman who wielded it, rose into view. "As it turns out, I brought plenty for the both of us."

****

Reality was an expert in mundane cruelty. Oh it had plenty of practice with the big ticket horrors, the sort that ravaged the soul and left all the little birdies going "poo-tee-weet." But that was more its profession, what paid the butcher's bills. When it came to what the universe did for fun, what filled its scrapbook with clipping pasted in the most loving care, its hobbies were far more personal in scope. True sadism lay in finite agonies: slivers under the fingernails, straws arranged along the spine, coffee tables whose attraction to shins was both erotic and non-consensual.

Anyone could kick over an anthill. It took an enthusiast to come up with something like ophiocordyceps.

Brain-washing fungi aside, Fuchsia had long held that life's greatest cruelty was suffering an aroused hard-on, and having no one to share it with. That poor penis, stiff and drooling, anticipating the various ways it might be petted, stroked, or engaged in welcoming warmth. All such expectations inevitably dashed, like last night's wet-dream, as the excitable member is met with the indifference of a half-conscious handjob.

But here was a torment Fuchsia had never considered, not until the very moment she awoke in a cold-sweat, trembling in unfamiliar skin, pressed against unfamiliar sheets. She hardly had to turn her head to acknowledge the short, warm bundle of curves laying nearby. Of course, the demoness was still with her. So there it was. She was not alone, she was certainly aroused enough to ache, but it was the friendly bit of hardened flesh she was missing. How do you defuse a ticking hard-on when it refused to exist?

Oh god, she could feel it, she could honestly feel it extending between her thighs, seeking sensation, yearning for comfort. Hell, at this point it would do tricks, or turn them, for a semi-enthused handy. And there was nothing she could do about it, like an itch positioned perfectly between her shoulder blades in a spot no amount of contortion could possibly scratch.

Was this phantom limb syndrome? W-was this the rest of her life? "Fuck!"

"Mmph, n-not now. Tiredth," muttered a slick, sensual voice, followed by the ruffle of stolen covers.

"YoOou! YoOou little shit!" Fuchsia howled, pouncing the heated lump beside her, hands gripping the smaller woman's shoulders, digging long fingernails into supple, olive-toned flesh. "You did this toOo me! You fuccCCkkking undo it or so help merrrRKK...!"

Mari's tight grip silenced the ragging ram with such brutality, Fuchsia's eyes rolled up, on the verge of falling back out of consciousness. The demonic entity shook her ebon skinned assailant, obviously wanting to make her point. "Do you know what they don't have in Hell I come from?"

"MerraaAaah...." Fuchsia gurgled, hands weakly trying to fend off the much smaller limb from which she was dangling. Huh, some idle part of her conscious paused to consider, wasn't this sort of how they had met? Really met, that is, when she first realized the young woman underneath her was anything but human.

"Coffee," Mari growled, slamming her captive onto the bed beside her. She rolled over and on top, straddling the well-choked ram who was now underneath a rather irate, decaffeinated demoness. Her thick, if not especially aroused, cock slapped across her captive's chest with all the crack of a hard-swung whip. "You will find, fuck slut," she continued, releasing her grip and reaching up to straighten her wild, locks of fuchsia colored hair, "that I kinda revert to bitchdom until I've had my morning libation.'

Fuchsia, the ram and not the color, sputtered trying to avoid eye contact with the beast straddling her hips. She had gotten awfully warm, all of a sudden, more so than just the exertion, or even the choke, might have warranted. The frustrating itch that was her unreachable cock was hotter and itchier than ever, and she found herself paying the wrong sort of attention to her tormentor.

It was not fear, not really. Whatever fear she had left for this azure-eyed psychopath was surely boiled away in a simmering pot of frustrated anger. And yet, here she was, passive and silent, just because she had the feeling that was exactly how Mari wanted her. Thoughts became slippery, a haze descended, and everything had that sort of glossy, Vaseline-filtered shimmer. Her lips parted, ready to apologize, to say she understood, and would Mistress like her to brew up a cup? But she said nothing, simply because she had not been given permission to speak.

The devil of the deep blue tease sighed, her hands coming away from a perfectly styled, perfectly set head of impossibly colored hair. Her arms folding under perfectly shaped breasts, raising the B's up a letter grade as she considered her suddenly obedient plaything. "Can't believe you're making me go over old lessons, Foosh," shaking her head, "I thought we had settled who held the leash, and who licked the cock last night. You really need a refresher so soon?"

Permission, oh god, it felt so good to have permission to speak. The ram's thoughts began to jumble together, falling over themselves to answer. Most of what came to mind were vile and likely to lead to just the sort of refresher the infernal being had on her mind. However, filtered through her tongue, a wiser organ, it came out simply as, "No."

Mari smirked from her perch, her showy thickness growing in response to the presumably warm, if not outright wicked, feelings of its owner. "Glad to hear it Foosh. I really am a bear in the mornings, I suppose I should have warned you." Shrugging, the demoness taped her index finger along each of her fingernails, causing them to color a midnight iridescent that put Fuchsia in mind of handkerchiefs for some reason. "I was sort of hoping we'd start this morning out a bit nicer, you know? Build ourselves up a good old fashioned rapport. Besides, if I'm always teaching old lessons, we'll never get to new ones, will we fuck-stain?"

Fuchsia almost managed to snarl when the lewd name entered her ear, causing it to twitch. There was that warmth again, like an unseen injection. It ran through her system like a flushed sewer pipe, causing her body to feel suddenly heavy, the mouthy response dying before it ever left her lips. Instead she said, "Yes M-M.. MiIIIiiistress," and hated herself for it.

"Good to hear, though I don't know about Mistress," Mari considered, idly touching her finger to her lips. On anyone else, it would have been an awfully coquettish gesture. For the demoness, it had the added effect of splashing her lips with a sudden shade of electric blue, matching her eye's perfectly. "I think Goddess works better, don't you? Sort of deliciously heretical, and more aaah for you to fuck up, right Foosh?"

"I guess soOo," Fuchsia replied, turning away, her lips set in a pout as it seemed to be the only resistance allowed by her treacherous brain.

"What was that cum-dump?" Mari growled, sliding forward on her pet's black-as-pitch chest. Her cock slid with her, dribbling a silver line of translucent, viscous flow. Each landed with a sizzling drop along her captive's bare skin, puddling messily, or rolling down the sheep's smooth skin to stain the satin sheet underneath.

The sudden whip crack of Mari's voice, coupled with the derogatory slur, caused another dose of inescapable heat. F-fuck, wh-why couldn't she just call this evil bitch a... a... "GooOOOoddess. Y-yes GoOoddess."

Mari clapped excitedly, her thick staff bouncing as she did, dribbling more molten pre as it swayed this way and that. "Oh it's just as sweet as I thought it would be." Her glee dwindling to a smirk. She reached down, taking Fuchsia's cheeks with one hand, squeezing until the new woman's jaw ached. "But maybe too sweet. Stick to Mari for now, and do try and to regain some control Foosh. You don't want to embarrass yourself, or me, out in public, right?"

Bitter moisture swelled up in Fuchsia's eyes, and she could hardly find the will to wipe the tears away, "MaAari, why are you doOooing this to me?"

"None of that now," Mari snorted, looking away in a sudden huff, arms back under her breasts. "What's done is done and it's past time you learned to live with it." The eyes she turned back to Fuchsia were softer this time around, but that merely meant hard diamond had deigned to lower itself to sapphire. "Look, new lesson, okay? Well, more like a disclaimer, I suppose. Your head? It's sort of unregistered."

The look Fuchsia shot back to the demoness was far too incredulous to hold much in the way of venom. "W-whaAat do you mean, unreEegistered?"

Mari sighed, "I didn't have much time to put the whole thing together. I was kinda running on a high, and a little tipsy, and to be honest. Originally, I thought I was just going to fuck your brains out, err literally, and leave what was left for the cleaning staff to dispose of." She blushed; the little olive-skinned imp blushed! "You k-kinda took me by surprise, so I had to work fast. That's why you're missing bits, and its why your brain is a bit... umm, scrambled."

It would have almost been adorable had the infernal not just admitted to having seriously considered engaging in malicious brain surgery with her dick. The same dick, by the way, which was currently smearing a burble of excited precum all over Fuchsia's obsidian-colored lips. The overloaded ram shut her eyes, trying to will the creamy, drugged sensations away, focusing on the here and now. "So t-haAat's why I'm baAahing?"

"Oh no, that's by design, though I suppose it could use a tweak." Mari conceded, "Can't have you baahbling in the middle of a spell; you might accidentally summon up BhaaAAAhl."

"AAalright, so whaA-"

"That was a joke." Mari grinned brightly, like a four year-old with an especially mad doodle to attach to the fridge.

"YeaaAah, noted." Fuchsia sighed, feeling gradually more herself. Well, her new self. "So whaAat does aAall this mean?"

"Just a second, its kind of getting on my nerves." Mari snapped her fingers, causing a sudden burst of electric blue to flash across her fingertips. She reached up and ran those same fingers along Fuchsia's horns.

There was a fresh crack, a scent of ozone, and Fuchsia went rigid faster than she could scream, let alone say, "don't taze me sis!'

Mari's electric crackle sizzled and popped as it danced along Fuchsia's twisted keratin. The stunned sheep felt something internal slip open in a way that could not possibly be good. It was like that moment when a migraine turned feral, and the dull throb became suddenly sharp, twisting like a serrated drill. Suddenly that drill went to work, like a dentist's tool, fingernails on the chalkboard of her grey matter. It would have sent her entire body into a cringe, had she not been struck ramrod.

"There we go," Mari smiled, sliding two fingers along her paralyzed pet's lips. She bit her own, apparently enjoying Fuchsia current state. When she pulled her digits back, a line of sheep drool, mixed with her own spilled seed, followed her retreating fingers. Indulging in the flavor, she licked them clean, swaying wickedly atop, her cock following suit, dripping hot, splattering pearls as it went.

Move...something, anything! Fuchsia was a fume of frustration. Bad enough that her phantom cock felt like it was ready to burst, did she really have to lay idle while being tormented by the infernal Queen of blue balls? Her left eyelid twitched, which she hoped was a good sign. Maybe she would even regain elementary motor skills before Mari started humping her as though she were a dickless sybian.

Pausing mid-grind, Mari ran long, sharp nails along her captive's chest. "So where were we? Oh right, unregistered Baphomet hood. See, normally we would set it up in my name, bind your soul to what passes for mine." The infernal lolita leaned forward, arching her bottom up, her chest forward, sliding her soft breasts along the stunned sheep's helpless form, nipples grazing one another.

"Basically, Foosh," cooed the demoness, grinding a bit harder and obviously enjoying her pet's temporary paralyses, "I'd leash your nasty soul; collar that filthy heart of yours. While you could still give me the stink eye, I could make your ass dance, without having to choke your shit every time you stepped out of line."

Fingers first, toes next, everything wiggling, everything working? Fuchsia tested out her mouth, "And," good start, "thaAat's a good thing?" Eh, better than nothing.

"For me, it's all upside," Mari admitted, "But for you, it's better than you think." Flipping over to lounge on top of Fuchsia, the curvy demoness pressed her plump bottom to wiggle wickedly against the sheep's blank, yet agonizingly aroused crotch. "The reason you can't quite call me a bitch, and the reason your innards keep getting all melty smooth at the thought of obeying my every shameful whim, is a side-effect of being unregistered. Your new head responds to how you're treated, no matter who is doing the treating."

"See, If I'm all sweet and caring, offering whatever you want to put a smile on those pretty little lips," Tilting her head upward, she blushed at the Fuchsia underneath, with surprisingly warm, if upside down eyes. Her palm slipped up as well, stroking along her sheep's jawline, in a genuinely affectionate way. There was something about that bashful, shy look on her face, something her pet had only glimpsed a couple of times from the horrid creature. Somewhere deep, there was a hidden vulnerability, a lonely yearn that touched the confused sheep from across eons of infernal solitude.

Fuchsia blinked, then the ache in her phantom cock began to pale beside an entirely different sensation. It started small, a prickle inside that drew in the liquid warmth which had filled her before. Sort of like a slow leak, she thought, but the more it fed, the larger it became. She was hungry, she realized, perhaps hungrier than she ever had been before. The leftover "melty smooth" was hardly satisfying, while her untouchable cock suddenly flared brightly in her mind. Frustration upon frustration! It began to build into a snarl, and when her eyes fell back on the beauty starring up at her, all open, needy, ready to serve the sheep's desires, it leapt into a roar!

Mari hardly suppressed a giggle when her sheep grabbed her from behind, one hand squeezing her left breast hard enough to bruise. Her legs spread to accept Fuchsia's other hand as it gripped the demoness' over-sized balls, fingertips brushing along the feminine folds underneath her swollen member. The olive-skinned tease continued to grind with her bottom and was rewarded as her pet began to thrust, impotently against it, as though her phantom cock might somehow reach. "Mmm, nice to be finally appreciated."

"S-shut up!" Fuchsia began, than immediately rejected the line that followed. She would not be tsundere! "I-I caAaan't help myself. It's this fucking mask." Mari's little lamb found her fingers tightening, slipping from the demoness' balls to stab deeply within the hot wettness underneath, thrusting wildly with her hips. The fact that the obviously stronger infernal lolita was not fighting back only made it worse. The more Mari seemed to give in, the more she wanted to take.

"Can you imagine? If I had left you in that restroom, and some bull with a too-thick cock had called you a slut?" Mari groaned, pressing her hips down on those digging digits, delighting as they spread her humid folds, rolling till her aroused clit rubbed slick against Fuchsia's palm. "You'd be sucking every cock that came, and the rougher they got, the more you'd love it. Mmnnfff, oh they would have hurt you, Foosh. They wouldn't be able to help themselves. They'd h- hurt you bad, in ways even I couldn't fix."

Fuchsia kept slapping her hips forward, trying to fill an emptiness that would not sate. Her body was trembling, her missing cock felt full of needles, and she could well imagine the ways she might have been broken. It was exactly how she wanted to break the tender morsel writhing on her fingertips. Dipping her head down, she ran her teeth along Mari's shoulder. It wasn't a kiss she lay there, it was a suckling bite, pressing hard into supple flesh that might have punctured had it not belonged to a supernatural creature. Still, the giving flesh flooded her mouth with flavor, and her mind with a desire to tear it free. It seemed right to establish her dominance, to lay a permanent claim on the woman grinding against her front.

The sheep groaned with an impossible to fill desire, not for a moment's satisfaction, but for the entirety of Mari's existence.

"NNgg," Gasped Mari, her shoulder purple and imprinted by her pet's teeth. One hand moved up to grip the breast that was not already claimed. The downward pump, along her sheep's fingertips, rose in both tempo and severity. "Oh fuck, I-I really do wish you had a cock right now!" She arched, her body obviously responding to the primal grip of the risen beast beneath her. Blue lips parted, a crackle of electricity arching from molar to tongue.

"You're hurting me Foosh, oh dark, hoary goddess, you're hurting me so good." Reaching up, her fingers finding her sheep's horn, holding onto it as she rose, then pushing off of it for a better, deeper thrust against Fuchsia's hand. "Just think what would have happened," She gulped, taking in air to fuel her frantic ride, her voice beginning to splinter into several different ones: some younger, some older, some husky and rich, some bright as a starling, "...would have h-happened if you had come acrossSs some helpful waitress, all sweetness and light, wanting sSsooo desperately to help a poor lost soul in need."

"No," Fuchsia groaned, not wanting to let the image solidify, to slip from thought to fantasy.

"Oh yesssSs," the multitude of feminine voices groaned, "I'm so strong, and look at you, making my flesSsh buckle." Mari twisted her hips, gasping in delight as something wet, and copper-flavored, alit on her tongue. "Ripping me so sSsweetly below, what do you think nNNng, what do you would do to some sweet kitty, or precious pup?" Another moan, licking the lip she had just bit so hard, a dribble of fresh crimson rolled down her chin. "Ooh, maybe a human, a vulnerable, furless, thin-sSskinned bag of bits. Would you tear her apart? Or would you just," her breath came faster, an azure flash of crackle lit from the tip of her cock, rolling along her flesh until finally grounding itself along her left nipple, burning its way merrily through Fuchsia's hand as it did. "Nnng, just ravage her so... Nnnf... damn... hard...?"

"P-please, no," Fuchsia moaned, even as her fingers continued to demand a yes from Mari's body, ignoring the sizzle and smoke along her left hand. She bit again, this time along Mari's right cheek, before pressing their heads together, kissing the infernal woman hard as she could. Their tongues danced, the sparkle and pop of electricity shared between them, internal and running through-out the sheep's abused system. She endured it, if only to silence the demoness, to smother those twisted truths.

Mari returned the kiss, pulling air from her playmate's lungs, perhaps a bit surprised to find it stolen right back. Her shadowed eyes lidded, and when she had her fill, she tugged back, and found it a bit of a fight. Fuchsia did not want to break the kiss, and her bottom lip almost paid the price. Crying out, suddenly free, but bound by her lover's grip, she gave herself over to the build up, something white hot, internally snapping in a thunderous roar. Everything wet within began to boil, her body arched as though struck, and her folds first quivered, than spilled a torrent of feminine fluid, drenching her partner's hand.

Fuchsia felt a crash of her own, a wetness that echoed faintly like the ache of her phantom cock. Only this was far sweeter, and where her formless shaft was a bundle of unsatisfied frustrations, this sensation was the culmination of pleasures expertly applied Still, it seemed confused, not sure where to go or even how it had formed in a body whose plumbing was not entirely installed. It was almost like someone else' memory of an orgasm, fuzzy around the edges, but as pure as any fantasy could be, without reality to get in its way.

Reaching down, Mari drew slick fingers from her sex. She brought them up to her mouth, her lips a bit purple where electric blue and electric blood had mixed. Affectionately, she ran her agile tongue along the soppy mess of Fuchsia hand, before resting the palm to settle warm and sticky against her right breast. "You would have broken her, fuck slut." The derogatory spoken in one, affectionate voice, allowing her plaything to settle out of that feral, dominant madness. "And then you would have taken what was left of her as your very own. Just like I did with you."

Breathing heavily, finally released from some of the impossible tensions that seemed to continually boil within her new body, Fuchsia exercised what little sass she could muster. "I-I sweAar, if the next words out of your mouth are, 'we're not so different, you and I,' this relationship is oOover."

Mari laughed, without a touch of derision or malice. It was an odd sound, beautiful in its rarity. "Mmm, we're quite different Foosh." Cuddling close, the demoness reached up, clasping her sheep's fingers and guiding them to squeeze her breasts once more, though perhaps with less ferocity, the way a gentle lover might. "I'd never bottle up all my hunger the way you do. It's why I can't register the hood, not just yet. There's still some corrupting left to do." Sighing softly, the smaller woman let her gaze rise to her unspent cock, swaying and slightly bent from its own mass. "But we'll fix that, I promise."

Fuchsia said nothing, too busy enjoying a peace she had not felt since Rael's last night of existence. She let her hands be guided by the demoness settled atop her body, enjoying the feel of those perfect little B-cups. She would have to get control of this thing, whatever it was. Whether she stayed with Mari, or tried to escape, it wasn't much good if she just ended up the plaything of the first dominant she stumbled across, or if she hurt somebody she might have otherwise cared for.

"You like my breasts, don't you Foosh?" Mari grinned, looking up with a mischievous smile.

"Well, as breaAsts go, they aren't half bad." Fuchsia smirked, "But I've played with bigger."

"Oh so you like them big, huh Foosh?" The demoness pulled her sheep's hands away, rolling her hips until her legs were facing the edge of the bed. "Lucky for you, that can be arranged. Even luckier for you, I'm not the jealous type."

"BuUullshit," Fuchsia snorted, in a mock cough, though finding herself curious as Mari slipped off her body. "Going to maAagic up some double dees for yourself?"

"For me? Oh no, my sweet slut," Mari chuckled, sliding her palms down her slim frame, until they spread farther to take in her lush hips. "I'm quite married to the whole gothic lolita schtick. I couldn't fit anything larger into my favorite outfits. Besides, I already have a bitch of a time keeping this beast locked down so it doesn't flip up my skirts." Gesturing to her cock which had deflated to a still quite large semi, she turned toward an unfamiliar bedroom, one that Fuchsia was only now getting to appreciate.

Fuchsia was no expert, but judging by the massive canopy bed she was apparently inhabiting, and the lavish decorations, this was meant to be a Victorian bedroom. What was not richly polished wood was done up in various shades of blue. Not bad, someone had at least gotten their 19th century color theory right.

That, or Mari was simply obsessed with the color.

The demoness approached an elegant, free-standing wardrobe. Elegant, if one could excuse the erotic gilding of writhing, gasping, groaning bodies that seemed to be locked in eternal orgy around the edges of the full length mirror. As Mari got close enough that her reflection began to catch, the silver backed glass began to warp and shudder, as though pressed against by something huge. The etched figures began to move, to touch and resume thrusts that had been captured, incomplete. All about, the wood heaved and shook, the low murmur of a hundred fornicating effigies beginning to fill the room.

The sheep was most certainly not pulling sheets around herself, legs up to her chest, trying to make herself flat against the bed's headboard. That would be silly. However, she could not deny a squeak that came out as sudden, "BaAah," when Mari's reflection failed to appear on the rippling mirror. Instead, hands pressed outward, pushing against the glass, causing it to warp further, but this time from the inside out. They appeared feminine, judging by their size and long nails, a few trying to scratch the glass shell while others pounded to no real effect beyond bloodying their knuckles.

Mari blinked, turning to Fuchsia, confused, "What?" Turning back to the mirror, she sighed, "Oh yeah, them. Pay them no mind. Failures, every one."

Fuchsia got the feeling she would be paying an awful lot of mind to "them," mostly in her future nightmares. "F-funny, mirrors at the cluUub didn't seem to do thaAat. M-must be aaAa bitch getting dressed in the moOorning."

"You know your baahble is worse when you're frightened right?" Mari chuckled, tapping the glass. "It's the purity of the silver backing. Most mirrors these days use aluminum so I get by just fine." The infernal lolita shrugged, snapping her fingers, causing a spark of light to arc, spin, and finally resolve itself into a cobalt glass key. "Oh, and it's an evil wardrobe. I suppose I should have mentioned that. Don't go sticking your fingers underneath it, no matter what rolls under."

The erotically shaped lock, apparently crafted by a silversmith who could have made a mint selling gaudy fleshlights to the super wealthy, whimpered with a multitude of feminine, aroused sighs once she sunk the key between its metallic folds. When she opened the door, its creak was more of a gasp, sounding off with a primal, "Oooh!" Finally, the demonic beauty disappeared behind the door, which shut suddenly behind her.

Everything went deathly quiet. It was almost disappointingly dull after all that fanfare. The mirror was just a mirror, the gilding was just perversely tacky, and whatever evil portal the wicked wardrobe lead to, it could have just as easily been full of fauns, as it might be with Cenobites.

Still, Fuchsia's mouth went dry. For all intents and purposes, a piece of furniture had just swallowed her owner. She hated thinking in those terms, but in a room suddenly devoid of anyone who knew what the hell was going on with her new body, she found the prospect of figuring it out on her own, rather grim. "Er, MaAari...?"

"Oh in case you were wondering," Mari's stuck her head out of the wardrobe, causing the mirror to tremble violently, fists bounding against the glass while the wooden figures went back to their bump-and-grind. "The bed's good."

"WhaAat?"

"It's a good bed, like, sunshine and kittens, or whatever. I have to switch out the mattresses every now and again, evil semen and all that. But I clean the sheets regularly," Mari smiled, apparently trying to reassure her nervous sheep, then spoiling the effect entirely by continuing, "Blood's a bitch to get out if you let it linger." And then she was gone, the room absolutely silent once more. Well, except for the sound of a pillow hitting the mirror with quite a bit of force.

Relaxing her throwing arm, Fuchsia curled up on the relatively safe bed with her legs far away from the edge, on the off chance that the rugs were haunted. She tried to take stock of her situation, so far removed from where it had been this time yesterday morning. Her phantom cock was still there, still a dull ache, but manageable now that she had unwound the tension with what she assumed was a feminine orgasm. Eh, she had better, but she was still grateful for the release. At least she could finally think straight. Or as straight as she was liable to, wearing a head whose EULA had yet to be digitally signed.

She really only had a few options as far as that went. First, she could wait for Mari to get the damn thing registered, finish whatever corruption she had in mind. At that point, she might as well give up entirely on ever being free of the woman. Fuchsia had let herself think that maybe, just maybe, it would not be such a bad life. But the mad hands on the other side of the mirror said differently. On the other hand, ff she was going to trying managing this on her own, she had to either fight it, which seemed impossible, or ride it out. It was a terrifying prospect, but getting ahead of her own insanity seemed like the best option.

Submitting, she could do. She had a mouth on her, and was not known to tolerate fools longer than she had to, but if gulping some idiots spew kept her from ending up bound in his basement, she would manage. What about that dominant streak, the one that hollowed her out, made her ravenous for... well, everything? It was sort of like having a loaded gun in the house. You could try and ignore it, or you could learn to shoot the damned device, train yourself so you didn't blow someone away on accident. A sudden surety came over her. She was going to have to learn how to own somebody, body and soul.

W-well, there were worse Mistresses, weren't there?

As though Fuchsia had uttered the thought aloud, the summoned devil appeared out of a suddenly animated bit of personal storage. Mari had something awfully pink, awfully wooly in her hands. Every now and then, she pulled it to her face for a delighted nuzzle, like a pervert with a recently warmed pair of panties. Apparently she derived the same pleasure from the article, judging by her swaying shaft which was now fully erect and drooling.

She kicked the villainous wardrobe shut, and by the time her curiously adult shadow no longer cast itself over the furniture's surface, it had calmed down, reverting to a mundane, though quite definitely evil, piece of Victorian furnishing.

"You are just waAay too excited for this to be anything good," Fuchsia sighed, trying to get a better look at the fluffy bit of apparel. It might have been a top, but if so, it was rather short. A cut off, she supposed, one meant to expose everything south of a woman's breasts. Not that she had any to speak of. And that material, it was every bit as foofy and poofy as her own cotton-candy pink head of hair. Now what kind of material was tha...! "Oh god, i-is that what I think it is? Are you seriously offering an AngoraAa wool sweater to an ex-rabbit?"

"What, you've never seen a cowboy in leather chaps?" Mari giggled, uncharacteristically giddy, "Gah, it's just so fucking fluffy, I can't stand it!" Twirling as she indulged this undisclosed fetish, she caught a glimpse of Fuchsia just... starring. Immediately she straightened out, holding the top at arm's length. "Besides, it's not Angora. See how the wool is all curled about itself? It's basically the same stuff as your hair: sheep-ish, but extra feminine. Come 'on Foosh, you have to admit, this looks pretty good."

"I think it looks like Ed Wood's training braAa."

"Cunt!" Mari huffed, "Just put it on, alright? You're going to love it, I promise. And if you don't love it, I'll make you love it, in the worst possible way." She gave Fuchsia a meaningful glare, snapping the fingers on her right hand, causing a sudden spark, before tossing the garment to her doubtful plaything.

Fuchsia blinked, trying her best to ignore the implication. Somehow, the idea of giving Mari too many excuses to fiddle with her already destabilized noggin seemed like an awfully bad idea. The infernal loli was probably joking, probably... but.

She considered the garment, running a black thumb through the ridiculously soft, pink curls. It really was just the fucking fluffiest. Given her experience with Mari's gifts, that probably meant that soon her sheep would be just as fluffy. Maybe it could be trimmed? She slipped her fingers along the interior, finding it sufficiently slick, with a consistency not unlike well-lubed latex. Eying the demoness accusingly, she tasted the residue on her fingertips.

"I didn't fuck your new bra," Mari smirked, looking every bit like a parent watching her child try and guess contents of a brightly wrapped box, tied up with a bow. "But yeah, it's going to become a part of you Foosh, once you put it on. Get used it. Sort of a theme with me." Her smirked widened a bit more, "Given how much you seem to like to play dress-up, I'd have thought you'd appreciate it."

Whatever it was, it wasn't semen. Fuchsia sighed, slipping the top over her head, fumbling for a moment in annoyance when her ram horns caught in precisely the wrong way. She was a little surprised to find her heart beating so fast, and yet her sense of dread was only fair to middling. Mari was right, squeezing herself into something new, taking on an unfamiliar shape, playing a role that was not her own? It had made up the better part of her previous existence. On some level, this was all kinda fun. But she had been able to struggle out of those costumes, no matter how tight, with a bit of lubrication and some elbow grease. She could always return to self once the evening was done.

Not so with Mari's outfits, and on that level, this was beyond terrifying.

Easy in, impossible out, just like before. Fuchsia settled the fluffy garment around her relatively flat chest. She had an ever so slight swell in that region, but that was nothing new. Even her original male shape had always been a bit puffy up top. When the slick latex-like material cupped her nips, she expected something similar to what had happened to her poor, purgatory-bound cock. Instead, it just felt tight and awfully warm. Unlike real latex, there was no breathing in the material, largely due to an exorbitant amount of sinfully soft, Amaranth-pink wool. There were no straps, just a tube top really, but given the fit, there wasn't much fear it might fall.

"So what do you think?" Mari grinned, crawling on the bed, one hand running through the luxurious cotton-candy fluff, the other caressing her sheep's jawline. Obviously excited, she leaned in to press perfectly healed lips to Fuchsia's own, pushing her sheep to lay back with the kiss. No electricity, no sparks, well nothing literal, at least. She certainly left a tingle or two which worked its way pleasantly through-out her toy.

Fuchsia eyed the woman nervously, now laying on her back, idly licking a bit of moisture from her lips where Mari had left it. When she tried to sit up, she found the infernal lolita's hand was pinning her to the bed. The pressure was firm, but there was no violence to it. Sighing, the sheep shrugged, "Honestly? KindaAa underwhelming. Figured I'd lose my nips, or somethin...." The look on the smaller woman's face, the glitter that danced about those twin sapphires, made her regret every single syllable.

Slipping up and over her creation, Mari gave a smile so hella twisty and slick, a Grinch would covet.

"Oh no, this top is meant to give, not to take. But first, I think we need to wake her up." Arching her back, Mari rolled her shoulders, pulling one arm into a stretch to the left, and then to the right. "Ever see the Karate Kid, Foosh? The original, I mean?" Without waiting for an answer, she brought her hands together with a sudden, ear-splitting boom! Thunder rolled through-out the room, hushing all ambient noise, swallowing it up in her din. Then, she began to rub her hands together, up and down, with a slow, intense pressure, but gathering speed. As she did, little tendrils of crackling azure began to slip between her fingertips and the edges of her palms.

Gradually widening eyes reflected the gathering power in Mari's palms. Fuchsia could feel her hair beginning to prickle and rise. The little fuzzy curls on her top did as well, illuminating blue causing the wool to take on an almost purple shade, closer to Mari's hair, and the sheep's namesake. "M- MaAari?"

"Geeze Foosh, you don't have to look so terrified," Mari licked her lips, obviously enjoying the site, she spread her palms apart as Jacob's ladders ran from her palms to her finger tips. "This part might itch, but it won't hurt a bit." One hand slipped down, causing her precious plaything to wince, but it never quite made contact. Instead, it simply drifted a hairsbreadth above the wooly mat of near-Magenta fluff. Where her palm approached, the curls quivered, rising up toward the electric blue light. Where it passed, the curls turned in on themselves, hushed and pressing deep, taking root.

Did this count as an itch? What began as a tingle was building up into a prickle of sensation, as though her chest had been talking to her feet and was now trying out this whole sleeping business. Besides, she could scratch most itches, but Fuchsia didn't dare reach up to her chest, not with Missus Megavolt sending her fluff into a tizzy. Still, as far as these things went, this was hardly the worst the sheep had endured. She gripped the sheets tightly, tried to sink into the bed as deep as she could, on the off chance that Mari got a little too close for comfort, and rode out the rising irritation. "F-feaAar is the mind killer."

Mari giggled, "True, I've always found it rather effective," pulling her hand away, she tilted her head. "There we go, now the wool is all yours. We can talk sheering schedules and styling options later, but see? Just like I said, you barely even felt a thing."

Fuchsia reached up a trembling hand, ever so tentatively giving her chest a scritch. The wool behaved the way you might expect, and now that she was free to do so, the little sheep scratched with impunity. "I- I guess this isn't so baAad." It was rather soft after all, and now that it was a part of her, rather than some garment, running her hands through it sent all sorts of pleasurable tickles along her top. Her fingernails even found her nipples, which had risen as the top had fallen. Apparently a bit of ambient electricity agreed with he- why was Mari looking at her like that?

"Unfortunately," Mari sighed, parting her deep blue lips and touching one index finger to her tongue, causing a crackle-snap-pop as a spark disappeared in a puff. "This part?" Another pop as she tested her other finger, apparently to be sure they were properly charged. "Well, I'm sure you've jump-started a car before."

Before Fuchsia could reply, she smelled the burnt wool, arched in the agony of her sizzling flesh, and jerked in a chocking sob as Mari took possession of her perked nipples. Her body never quite hit the uncomfortable numb of her earlier paralyses. Not that she any control over which way she twisted, her body writhing like an impudent Jedi who had just stumbled into a Sith rave. She flailed about as much as the infernal lolita's straddle would allow, her heart beginning to ache, going into an unexpected spasm, sending eradicate cardiac pulses through-out her system.

And then came the tug, causing fresh, damp salt to well up in her wide, unblinking eyes. Her chest had not crisped so much as melted, feeling suddenly malleable, as though it might just ooze right off her muscle tissue. Mari was apparently taking advantage of the fact, pulling till Fuchsia's puffy chest began to extend, stretching to meet demonic demands. Once the woman had pulled them up sufficiently, the olive-skinned psycho would press them back down, causing the gathered stretch to puddle outward, to widen. Where the extra mass was coming from, Fuchsia could hardly guess, nor was she in much position to care.

Mari's voice was soothing, if muffled through the incessant buzzing and chirp of her electric enhancements. "Just a couple more letters to go, Foosh," pulling up, then pressing down, spreading her fingers for a moment to reshape the larger, fuller puddle of gathering fatty tissue, before catching those nipples once more. Then she started the process all over again. Once or twice she flattened the nipples themselves with her thumb, grinding a bit to widen both her sheeps nubs, and the aerola surrounding them.

"Definitely bigger than mine," Mari nodded to herself, as her living sculpture was still fighting to gather enough breath to scream. "But how much farther should we go? Should we stick to something reasonable? Basic double dees on a slim frame, all jiggling about sinfully, yet respectfully? Or should we go for broke? We could put something ridiculous out there for all the guys to drool, all the girls to whine, and the whole time you can barely walk straight without gravity tugging yah into light poles, nearby trees, and unsuspecting strangers."

Fuchsia only had one vote, "make it stop!" She simply had no voice with which to express it.

Eyes drifting up, seeing the shimmer of something wet slide down her plaything's face, an arc of miniature lightning chasing the conductive fluid as it went, Mari made her choice. Both hands suddenly flung hard apart and downward, sending thousands of fibrous, azure snakes to ground themselves into the floor. That done, she made a few last minute touches, shaping the cooling chest clay of her concubine into lush, heavy, perfectly sculpted, perfectly real, double Ds. Casually, she gave the fat left nipple a gentle flick. "You alright Foosh?"

Fuchsia said nothing at first. Shutting her eyes, trying to leave a world that had been so recently comprised solely of pain. She felt the unfamiliar weight on her chest, even found some modicum of pleasure in her tormentor's gentle flick. Slowly, but surely, a world of new sensations began to open up, a rolling prickle along the weighty orbs as sensitive synapses came online for the very first time. It was like feeling the air in a way she had never felt it before. The warmth of the room invaded her fresh flesh, causing her breasts to heave, rolling one way, and she found her upper chest following them. "B-BaaAh!"

Mari caught her unsteady sheep, "You'll get used to them." One hand sliding under the heavy, right curve, tickling along it lightly. "Hell, you'll love them, just like I said." She pressed Fuchsia back down and leaned in, running her wet tongue along a newly minted numb. The demoness caught it with her teeth, tugging lightly before giving the whole affair a deep, indulgent suckle. Her right hand began to fondle the left, to roll a massaging grope that seemed intent to test every recently-installed pleasure circuit.

The large breasted sheep whimpered, one hand coming down to tangle with Mari's hair. She felt a most peculiar sensation, a sense of an intense, wet pull. It was the tug for succor through a swollen, well-tended nip. Somehow Fuchsia knew that despite how real these curves apparently were, they had none to give. Still, for all the tempest she had endured, they were the first of the demoness' gifts that honestly elicited a smile. "I- I think I alreEeady do."

Lips leaving her sheep's nip with a muffled, wet pop, Mari found herself smiling as well. Another shocker, it was genuine. "Mm, now as the wool grows back, you'll have some forming along the top. Trim it or keep it for warmth, up to you. That fuzz is also going to end up over your shoulders, and down your sides and hips." She grinned, a bit more wickedly this time, "But for the most part it's going to leave all the fun bits exposed. So, we're going to have to go shopping later, find you something decent to wear." "Shopping, that sounds nice," Fuchsia sighed, leaning back and enjoying the sensation of her... what, her owner? Whatever, she was enjoying having her breasts teased and massaged by Mari's attentive fingers. The only downside being that unavoidable feedback loop, pleasure that reached her feminine form inevitably tried to express itself through the cock that wasn't there. "Errf, any chance we could go shopping for a new cock?" Pausing to consider her request, and general attitude toward capitalism, "maAaybe some new shoes?"

Mari lifted her head from where it had been nuzzled between soft, obsidian mountains. "Oh I know just the cocks, too." The grin that spread about her lips was terribly unpleasant, but it seemed directly outwardly, as though Fuchsia was invited in on an evil chuckle. It seemed like, for once, it was somebody else who was not going to like where this was going, but her sheep was hardly in much of a mood to care. "We'll window shop a bit will we can find you the best one. As for, shoes? Foosh, those I can get you right now."

That sounded ominous, "M-maAaybe we can skip the shoes, for now." Fuchsia lifted her latest additions, pressing them together in an effort to entice her target. Captivate seemed super effective against this rare darkly psychic, electrical type. "Still getting used to these jiggly, puUuffy bits. Could use a hand with that, if you're up to it."

"Up to it," Mari repeated, in that half dazed way one tends toward when eyes are affixed on the mesmerizing fleshy flow of heavy breasts set to erotic motion. "I suppose I haven't cum yet, not with this." One finger tapped the end of a swollen shaft, her plump cap turning dark with need, sending a fat tumble of melty seed to splash just shy of her playmate's navel. As it turned out, her sheep wasn't the only one with a grumpy erection. "But I've got a better idea, and my idea includes shoes. That's always a win!"

"You have a baAad habit of making your wins off of my ouch." Fuchsia pouted, hiding her newly grown girls with crossed arms, though finding the task easier conceived than accomplished.

"Sort of my way, you know?" Mari smirked, "No ecstasy without agony, and all that." Fuchsia's tormentor hopped off her favorite chew toy, her over-sized lightning rod bouncing, seemingly disgruntled, between her legs. Her head disappeared for a moment, her bare bottom swaying this way and that, causing the sheep's phantom member to join the demonic cock in a frustrated huff. "But yeah," her voice muffled as she reached under the bed, "You've been a good sheep-slut this morning, so I think we can manage this one without the shock therapy. That is, if you don't mind a big, gooey mess."

Fuchsia sat up, raising a curious, cagey eyebrow, with good reason to be skeptical. "WhaAat sort of gooey mess?" She had her own idea, but there were some things you just didn't assume when dealing with a psychotic demoness with a fetish for Tesla coils.

The "shoes" appeared before Mari, using the same arm to pull herself up. They were black, smooth, and elegantly arched. A wearer's heel would be floating seven or eight inches off the ground, forcing all of her weight onto the ball of her foot. Sexy, but hardly practical. It was the sort of shoe you wore on a dare, showed off while safely seated, and then removed without taking a single step. Some women, mostly ballerinas and animated school girls, could manage to balance so precariously on their toes, but it was not recommended for anyone who valued her ankles. Still, if you did manage to wobble gracefully in place, what they would do to your calves and butt might just be worth the inevitable Jenga moment.

All of which ignored the cloven hooves at the toe. "MaAari, I don't think I like these new shoOoes."

"Mmm, oh no cum rag, I don't think that's true at all." Mari cooed, pressing the slender heel of one up to her lips, kissing it lightly, leaving a perfect imprint of her blue lipstick on its slick surface. She reached up, grabbing Fuchsia's ankle in a firm, possessive grip. "And you will slide these ridiculously over-sized feet toward me so I can give them a proper send off." Her long fingernails began to dig just under her sheep's ankle, puncturing the sensitive flesh underneath just enough to well up a single, red drop. "Or I'll simply remove them, with a lot less fanfare, but a lot more excruciation. Do you hear me, fuck-stain?"

Fuchsia wanted to tell the psychotic bitch to try out some new material. She really did. Instead, that unwelcome warmth began to over take her, stuffing her brain with pink, candy cotton. What a joy it would be to do exactly as this loathsome harpy had directed. What an unworthy cruelty to deny this skuzzy whore anything her shrunken, shriveled lump of a petrified heart happened to desire. Hands to steady herself on the bed, the smooth-skinned, midnight sheep spun her plump rear along the sheets, presenting both "over-sized-my-ass" feet before the horrid cu- cun...before her beautiful owner.

Mari so did not have to smirk like she was well aware of the futile struggle going on in her precious toy's head, but she did it anyway. Taking both of Fuchsia's feet by the ankle, she paused a moment to run her fingers along their smooth surface. "I suppose, slut, they really aren't that big." She looked up, slyly, enjoying her pet's involuntary eye-twitch. "But I think you'll love your new hooves so much more. I know I will." She raised one, bare foot up to her cheek, nuzzling along the sensitive bottom, azure lips running to catch, suckle and release the sheep's pretty little toes. "And yet, there are a few advantages to these nicely arched, wonderfully soft soles." Another warm, wet kiss, her playful tongue sliding up the length of them, just shy of a tickle, coating lightly with a slick saliva.

Her sheep quivered. Foot-play was not an especially big interest of hers, but Mari was certainly making the most of it. Fuchsia's phantom shaft pulsed, her toes clenched, and that inner, feminine core began to melt, feeling somehow stronger than it did before. Perhaps that had something to do with the heaving, sweat-stained orbs about her chest. Having not been commanded otherwise, she fondled the right one, retesting just how sensitive her newly fattened nipples were, and finding them quite satisfactory. "So faAar, so good."

"It gets better," Mari cooed, "For me, at least." Guiding her pet's well-lapped feet downward, she slid them around her swollen member, finding them to actually be the perfect size. There were certainly smaller feet, but they could not have enveloped her extra-large cock half so well, if at all. Nor were they as likely to have such a graceful arch to seal Fuchsia's grip. With wet warmth wrapping her needy shaft, the infernal lolita found herself thrusting forward with her hips, hilting herself in an imagined victim. Fingernails digging into the top of her toy's feet and ankles, she began to deliver brutal, sex destroying pumps.

"Nnnng, y-yeah, g-going to have to find someone after this," Mari groaned in a near growl, "someone we can break together, bend between us," another thrust, sliding her sheep's feet up to near the tip of her cock, smearing cute toes with a rising splatter of precum. Then, suddenly, wickedly yanking them back down to her balls. Whomever that cock tolled for, it was liable to be an awfully bumpy ride. "Someone who will be missed."

Fuchsia was busy exploring the edge of one nipple, seeing if she could bring the other up to her lips. She could, with a bit of a stretch, and found just how hard she could bite before she lost control. The languid, self-indulgent sheep listened to Mari's terrible prophecy, too enamored with her hazy submission to fear much for some stranger, no matter how much they might suffer bouncing on that insatiable member. Instead, she found herself replying with a lewd smile, "So cruel, GoOodess, thinking about someone else while fucking my feEeet."

"Mmm, I can fuck you whenever, FooSsh," Mari replied in a legion of feminine voices, each one trying to out seduce the other. An errant spark crackled from one nipple, then traveling in arcing leapfrogs down till it seemed to ground itself on her pulsating, well-pleasured shaft. "And I will, cum-bucket," again, she... they, made it sound oddly enduring, "whenever and wherever I pleasSse. In public, across one of those nasSsty tables at the Mall food court, or in the pews in full view of a best friend'sSs wedding." Again she thrust, her cock beginning to twitch, apparently liking where her head was at. Currently, that meant between slick soles, glistening with both saliva and dick spittle.

"But this fuck is for sSsomeone else, sSsomeone we'll pick up, you and I. Someone that won't be coming home with usSs." Faster she thrust, her ripe bottom lifting from the rug underneath, pounding upward and delighting to the sinful, likely horrifying images her mind was conjuring, "N-not unlesSs," another crackle, sapphire eyes beginning to glow, radiating azure tentacles that writhed and danced about her olive-skinned features. "UnlessS they come home...."

Arcing her back, fresh breasts thrust forward, Fuchsia's molten core began to boil over, to fill her body with an erotic steam. The little electric jolts were becoming oddly pleasurable, a tingle that danced up her spine when applied through the medium of her Goddess, rather than directly into her system. Her ethereal shaft was all but forgotten, her trembling flesh far too absorbed with these new sensations. She found herself responding as much to Mari's delight at her own. B-but fuck, was she honestly about to cum listening to some poor schmucks upcoming nightmare? No... pl-please... yes!

"...in a doggie bag!" Mari's chorus cried, fingers of electricity running from her arched back, and down the sensitive underside of her cock, as it suddenly came alive between Fuchsia's toes. The first heated smear of globular ivory landed to sizzle atop her sheep's left breast, soon to be rubbed in by an excited lover. The next came with less force, but no less volume, slapping in a stick between her pet's knees, to begin a slow, lazy tumble down her calves, and along the sheets. Another burst to meet the second, rolling down Foosh's calves, to join the fourth and the fifth, and the sixth, and again. The infernal lolita's cum began to puddle along her sub's feet, to swirl between tightening toes, and to coat trembling soles.

She was a productive little monster, and this particular batch had been building for quite some time. Some of the gooey sop dribbled down the underside of Maris cock, forming a new puddle between her legs, spreading along the rug and kissing at the feminine folds underneath her body. The smallest puddle, which had formed on the bed, dribbled down in a glacial waterfall, where the demoness, reached up to gather the thickly viscous drips in hand. Adding it to the slurry underneath her, she pulled those lovely feet from her cock and began to rub the seed, like lotion, into her sheep's tingling toes. Every now and then, she pulled one up to lay an affectionate kiss along the ball or heel of Fuchsia's feet, smearing a bit of the gathering mess on her own cheek in the process.

"Mmm, soOo this one comes with a foot rub?" Fuchsia moaned softly, the near servile gesture from her Goddess counteracting the submissive fluff that had filled her brain. Not quite enough to set the dominant, empty hunger loose, but just on the edge, so she could just about think straight. "Should have just saAaid that from the beginning."

Mari snorted, reaching up to pull one of her pet's new "shoes" down, catching a bit more dribble from the bed to tumble into the slick, latex-like interior. "Just keep rubbing your feet along my cock, get as much of it as you can Foosh. This should feel kinda melty, but it won't hurt, so long as you've got enough cream."

The infernal lolita turned the shoe over, placing the opening on top of her not-quite spent dick. The edge of it seemed to seal with Mari's cock-flesh for a moment, seemingly suckling on her shaft while the demoness jerked it up and down, encouraging her tool to belch a few more ounces directly into the foot-gear. Judging by the swollen lump of thickness that slide along her member, the twitch in her balls, she was succeeding at the task. "I should mention that I love cumming in my playmates clothing, and food, and just about their everything. I'd get used to the taste, smell, and feel of it, if I were you."

Fuchsia response was to casually lap up the wayward semen that had ended up on her warm breasts. "Sweeter than most, a little spicy though. I suppose it'll have to do."

Apparently it was the right response because Mari immediately had to switch "shoes," pulling one off that sloshed as she set it aside, then replacing it with another. "Mmm, Foosh, you have such delicious potential. If only I can focus it the wrong way, channel all that snark toward a bad cause." Shivering, presumably with the thought of it, she pulled Fuchsia other shoe off a finally satisfied shaft, which was all too happy to flop into something softer, yet still obscenely sized, between her legs. "Think that does it."

Mari considered the hoofed shoes for a moment, then looked up to her sheep, still settled on the bed above. Shutting her eyes for a moment, settling something within, the strangely serene succubus sighed, "Let me say this nice for once, and just, you know, do as I say? Can we try that?" Without waiting for a reply, she lifted the right one upward, spreading its opening wide. "Arc your left foot this way, love."

Eye wide, Fuchsia nearly choked on another lap of sweetly spiced semen. She tilted her head, just starring at the young woman on the ground, seeming more a woman at that moment, less a monster. Funny, this should have been when that little hole would open up inside of her, threatening to rob the sheep of all rational judgement, replacing it with a corrupted, all consuming need. Instead, she just felt genuine warmth.

Raising her foot up, she arched it carefully, hoping the ivory dribbling merrily off her ebony toes was enough. Then she smiled, "Alright, Mari."

Slipping the latex seal around her sheep's foot, Mari quirked a peculiar smile, a rare expression that seemed handcrafted for her Foosh's eyes. She pressed the tight, latex-like material up, snuggling it onto her toy's foot. It did so with a wet, slurping sound, like a shoe disappearing into the mud. The demoness raised one hand to stroke along her pet's calf, maybe to sooth the trembling that had developed.

Sticky, warm, it was nicer than expected but she could not escape the notion that her foot was slipping in too easily, given how full the shimmery rubber shoe seemed. At the very least, she should be displacing an awful lot of demonic seed. Besides, over-sized or not, Fuchsia's foot should not have fit inside, even had it been empty, not without seriously stretching the latex right the hell out of shape. Only, it felt like the other way around, as though she were the one being compressed to fit, yet somehow without injury.

What was warm became hot, though not a searing, painful heat. It was more like the all over-swelter of a humid day in July, when the only thing with much get-up-and-go were the house flies. It felt awfully creamy in there, beyond just gooey. It was a surprisingly pleasurable sensation, like playing in a mud puddle on that same summer day. The oddest bit was that sense she was no longer stepping into goo so much as becoming it, or at least a part of her was. Her foot began to tingle as it... oh god, there was no other word for it, as it flowed to fit, conforming to the shape and size required. The ball of her foot had to have split, it just had to, to sink into the internal horn of those hooves. But no tear, no sense of compression, just an orgasmic, liquid fill that had Fuchsia biting her bottom lip in delight.

Her eyes closed, she never caught sight of the crackling light, the perfect shade of an electric blue, argon light, that sealed one flesh to another. Not that it mattered, she had seen it all before. What was new was that sensation of a slippery tongue licking between her thick, horned toes. Yeah, okay. She was not going to freak out about that. Not this time. Fuchsia opened her eyes, seeing Mari running her lips over freshly lapped hooves.

She gave them an experimental spread, arching her new foot up and over, trying to process her new reality. It would have been easier if her other foot was not wiggling its toes in an asymmetrical display that sent her mind reeling.

"Other one! Quick MaAari," Fuchsia squeaked, gesturing with her non-hooved foot. "Oh god, that is so fuUucked up."

Mari laughed, "Just think of it like you're trying on new bits for a Second Life avatar." Lifting the other shoe, careful to not let it drop, she began to tug it upwards on her sheep's offered foot.

"Never played, got enough costumes," Fuchsia snorted, which was not entirely true. One could never have enough costumes. She just preferred the sort you could smell, crinkle, and generally make a mess in. "And more than enoOough humpable furniture back home." Warm, gooey, flow, yes, yes; hurry up, damn you!

"Oh more than you know, Foosh," Mari chuckled, cryptically, following the luminescent blue as it sealed her sheep into brand new feet. Teasingly, she again stuck her tongue between them, enjoying the hard surface, and unique flavor. She blinked when she found her tongue temporarily trapped by a contraction of hooves. One hand slid to stroke along her playmates heel, waiting to see what her marvelous slut might do next.

"No more pain, alright Mari?" Fuchsia slipped her other foot down, running her hard, horned toes over her tentative captive's presumably vulnerable balls. She nuzzled them with her foot, teasing the way one might with the toe of a patent leather shoe, but the threat was obvious. "You waAanna punish, we'll figure that shit out. You wanna be called Goddess? Eh, let's stick with MaAari, or Miss Mari if I'm feeling all warm and wonderful inside. But no more lighting bolts up the ass, just so you can stick a new decal on my rear, alright? You've just proven it doesn't have to be thaAat way, so from here on in, we're going the melty, gooey route, alright?"

Mari blinked, tilting her head. One hand slipped up, taking her sheep's hoof firmly, but no more so than was necessary to pull her tongue free. "And if I say fuck you, Foosh, what then?"

"Then I gueEess you'll have to find a new sheep, hon." Fuchsia shrugged, "I mean, sure you can jerk the leaAash all you want, but I get the feeling you're looking for more than that. Hell, you got a whoOole evil wardrobe full of that. Me, you only get one of. And if you want me, those are my terms."

"You understand I can bend your body to my will, prance you about like a marionette, and if you think death is any escape," Mari's eyes glittered in a sudden, radiating glow. "I'd think again. There are so many worse things than death, and I'm Mistress of quite a few of them."

Fuchsia shrugged, "I figured as much, I just don't care."

Their eyes locked for a long, sullen silence, when Mari stood. She stretched, working the creak out of her back, pushing her smaller breasts to the sky, and rising up on her toes. Finally she dropped to her heels. "Alright, lets hit the shower first. I've got a nice, copper tub, big enough to share, but I figure a shower is better if we wanna get clean, and not just a different kinda dirty.'

Blinking, then stumbling to her feet, feeling a bit like a prince of the forest learning to navigate a frozen lake, Fuchsia asked, "SoOo.. is tha- fuck! Fucking hooves!" Realigning herself with the ground, trying to get used to both her new bouncy weights, and even newer height, she continued, "I mean, is that it? You understand that I'm serious about this shit, right hon?"

Mari twirled, "That's two hons, Foosh. We agreed to Miss Mari," the demoness smirked, every so slightly rewriting the terms. "And yes, fine, it's done. We'll make it official once I find a collar suitably embarrassing enough to go around that stubborn neck of yours. But first things first: a shower, a bite, and then we go shopping. Sound good?"

The wobbly sheep had her arms out to either side, trying to balance. It was a pain in the ass, what with those jiggly bits trying their damnedest to pull her this way or that. Fuchsia found herself grateful Miss Mari... fuck, it's already in my vocabulary now... had opted for the slightly more sensible size. "Yeah, shopping, sure. What are we hunting?"

The demoness faked a look of mock surprise. "Why Foosh, I'm surprised it's not foremost on your dirty little mind!" Mari exclaimed dramatically, laying her hand to her heart. "You wanted to go shopping for cocks, right? So let's go out there and find some well hung boys, or girls, I suppose, and take one."

The End of the Beginning.