Obeysance: Going Up
#1 of Obeysance
"Top floor: latex goo transformation, mind control, body control, D/s, and housewares!"
Obeisance (n); : a movement of your body (such as bowing) that shows respect for someone or something : respect for someone or something : acknowledgement of another's superiority or importance
It was late on a Saturday afternoon, so no one really noticed the young woman crossing the mall's atrium. They were all a bit busy with their own vital concerns, like trying on their new neon-colored Nikes, or telling their friend, via text message, that they would not believe who was in the food court, or asking Mom if they could go to Toys-R-Us, Mom, Mooom.
To be fair, she didn't really notice them either.
The young woman walked into the elevator, and pushed the button for the top floor.
"Good, said the Voice in her ear, before she could even ask what now? It then proceeded to tell her what to press to turn the elevator into the express elevator. It's unclear what would've happened if there had been another passenger in the elevator with her.
Face the window.
She did. The elevator was five stories high, and unusually, she had the half-circular compartment to herself. Though since there were somewhat sticky spots on the floor, its safe to say there were others there in spirit. Or at least DNA.
She leaned against the curved railing as she ascended.
Touch yourself.
"In...in public?" She was wearing a skirt, and...had she put on underwear that morning? Why wouldn't she? Why...why hadn't she?
_ Touch yourself. _
And she did. In fact, she found herself feeling different than usual. She was wetter, for one thing, and it felt thicker too, coming away on her hand in thick dollops than looked like latex.
Investigators later found that security personnel spent several seconds agog at the sight before mobilizing.
The imaginary second passenger might've wondered at the smell suddenly permeating the elevator, if they weren't distracted by the shiny black goop on their fellow traveller's hand, falling to the ground from between her legs. The word "sopping" may have passed through their thoughts.
The girl suddenly moaned, a low, animal sound. He knees gave way, and she half-collapsed, only her grip on the railing keeping her up. That hot, slippery feeling in her lower abdomen was concentrating on a spot just above her crotch, and she came from below as a new dick surged into existence.
Security's reaction is not a matter of public record.
The girl released her grip on the railing to tentatively stroke her new appendage, like it was a strange pet she wasn't sure was friendly. Part of her reluctance was due to the fact that she had never seen a big, black, shiny penis before, much less one attached to her.
Well, she had seen a purple silicone one, but -
Oh, for - The Voice had undertones of amusement. Like a banana. Hold it like a banana. Think...think Shake-Weight.
"But it's not vibrating."
That comes later.
Something roiled inside her at that, and her cock promptly surged in her hand, painting the window with white and black. Heat burned in her, especially her cheeks.
"Oh- Everyone will see!"
They'll just think a skunk exploded, is all. Beat. I can't help but notice that you're more concerned with being seen than you are with the fact that you're dripping rubber from two orifices. Including one you didn't have when you got on this elevator.
"I-" She paused, then let go of her dick like it was a hot potato seasoned with anthrax. That was wrong. It was all wrong. "Who are you? What did you do to me?" Out the window, she caught a glance of the fountain, and the bags she had left there, and her smartphone, which she had gotten that funny picture on. - "What I even hearing you on?"
That's not important. What is important is the fact that you've reached the top floor, and the doors aren't locked.
Said doors slid open with a cheery ding!
Whoops.
The people outside were staring at her. Someone reached for their phone.
She pressed the Door Close button, and noticed how slow the doors seemed to be closing as two people in jackets that said SECURITY approached through the crowd. Luckily, no one seemed willing to try and keep the doors open. In fact, they were actually backing away.
For some reason.
"What's the code to lock the door?" she hissed to the voice in her head.
Oh, you want my help now?
"Yes! And get this-" she pointed at her dick "-off!"
Are you suuure?
"Yes! I'll do anything!"
She heard the mental equivalent of an anticipatory snort, and the Voice rattled off some instructions. Just as she finished putting them in, she heard banging on the doors outside, and someone ordering her to let them in or they'd call the police.
Mildly: They sound angry.
"Now what?"
This.
The massive organ that had been banging around her knees suddenly surged to attention, coating the doors in white and black.
Looks kind of like a piece of modern art, doesn't it? Orgasm No. 5.
She tried to catch her breath, and fought the urge to tear her clothes off to let out the heat. "Wh-what was that for?"
Well, you did say get it off.
"That's not what I meant and you know it!"
No takebacks. And you'll note they can't get in now.
It was hardening into thick, ropy strings stretched across the doors. She had a brief image of herself being wrapped in those strings, unable to move, cocooned in a web of her own-
"But...I already locked the doors!"
Yes, but they might always try a more...analog approach.
The girl, tuning the Voice out, looked around. Maybe she could use the emergency phone to explain the sit-
Those pimples you're so worried about. What if your skin was completely smooth?
She automatically reached up and touched her cheek, then winced as the lukewarm Stuff smeared on it. "S-smooth?"
Imagine it. Just smooth, forever. And shiny, and black.
And she could, easily. Just a smooth, gripless surface. No acne, no blemishes, no imperfections, no identity. Just a nameless Thing to be Used-
Her eyes snapped open, a surge of panic fluttering through her.
"Stop it!"
Stop what? You're the one who's dripping.
She flushed. "I...you're making me-"
Open wide.
Suddenly, a pressure surged up her throat, like she had to puke. She leaned against the glass with one hand, and reached for her mouth with the other. She had to hold it shut, or whatever was in there would-
The long, slick tongue flopped out of her mouth, dangling down her chest. She could feel it soaking into her shirt, the goopy...stuff on her breasts. She moaned. In distress, honest.
Oh, you like that?
"No," she tried to say, but it came out as "nuh".
The shirt seemed far too tight, like it was vacuum-molding itself across her chest. And...were her boobs getting bigger?
Perfect fit or your money back. Beat. Oh, right, I'm doing this for free.
"I...I don't want-"
Bigger boobs? Of course you do.
She did, didn't she?
No, wait, that had only been once or twice. That wasn't, like, ongoing. She didn't want to caress those swelling curves, rolling the nipple between her fingers until her breath came faster and faster...
Then why was she doing it?
She dropped her new boobs like a pair of extremely bouncy hot potatoes.
Aw, you don't like them? She could hear the mocking pout. After I went through all that trouble picking them out.
"It's just...I don't..."
And they came-
An orgasm rocked her, forcing her to her knees as the black stuff surged out. She found herself up to her buttcheeks in thick muck, leaning against the side of the elevator, laughing hysterically as the Voice went on. -so far.
Her hands left smeary prints on the glass, the railing, as she struggled to her feet. Idly, she drew a smiley face on the glass, running her hands through her black cum until they were coated past the wrist. Then she drew another one, except the smiley face was-
What was she doing?
Nice shoes.
Naturally, she looked down. Her feet and calves were caked in goo, and as she tried to lift them out of it-she realized that she was now wearing boots. Flat boots, but shiny boots, nonetheless. With white soles.
This was impossible. It couldn't be happening. She was clearly hallucinating, which would actually be more of a relief than hearing voices and gradually being turned into a tranny fetish model. Maybe the ventilation had cut off and she had blacked out.
Well, maybe you could try the ventilation duct.
Right. And the only way to reach the roof was to stand on the railing.
The brass railing.
The shiny brass railing, wearing shoes coated in who-knows-what.
She gave it the ol' high school try, of course. She got most of the way, even. Bracing both her hands against the ceiling, precariously balanced on the rail, when the Voice mused you think the people down there can see up your skirt?
And she was getting hard, again. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth. "Nnnrgh."
Maybe your friends are even down there, looking for you. You know the one with the red hair? I'm pretty sure she has a crush on you.
Her footing slipped a little. "Don't."
Can you imagine her, on her knees? Being coated in your black cum? Growing a dick of her own? Or maybe you'd like to keep her with the stock loadout.
Her face turned up, mouth open. A donation, gratefully accepted. A flush on her cheeks, covered in black goop that spread over her face, erasing who she was. Or maybe she would leave her face uncovered, so she wouldn't be able to hide, so everyone who looked at her would know-
This time, as her knees went weak, she fell face down into the growing pool of black.
Oddly enough, it didn't really hurt her dick. Or maybe it was so engorged with impossible magic girlcock juice that it acted as a cushion. Either way, by the time the girl rolled onto her back, the elevator had been filled to her waist, and her johnson was pointing up like the world's sexiest periscope.
She just couldn't quite care anymore. She couldn't even care about the fact that she had came several times her body weight already, with an appendage it was physically impossible to have. She was submerged in the stuff, and it didn't seem to be coming off. In fact, some of it seemed to be soaking in; she was pretty sure her hips hadn't been that wide before. Idly, she wondered what would happen if she opened the doors and walked out. Would they scream in terror? Or would they come to her, come on her, touch her, be touched, be changed-
She lurched to her feet. The black slicked off her smooth skin, and she traced a hand down her front, shuddering a little as they passed over her boobs. A white section came down from her neck, wrapped around her breasts, and then tapered to a rounded point that ended somewhere below her belly-button, emphasizing her widened hips. Kind of like one of those illusion dresses moms wore.
She ran a hand over her face, noting how smooth it was. She didn't even have ears or hair anymore, though she still had eyes and nostrils and a mouth - (the better to eat you out with, my dear) - but given that she had been submerged in her own cum without a problem, breathing was probably optional now.
What if she went to the beach? Went all Jaws, swimming around, a dark shape in the water, only to drag people under. Their friends rush to the side of the boat, and then they emerge, but not the same way they went down-
It was up to her neck now. She stood on tiptoes, like when you go out to water that's just a little too deep for you. There wasn't much point, but she did it anyway. Maybe it was the last shreds of her resistance, her-
Since you don't want to give up, I'll give you one more chance. It's very simple.
"What?" she said. Her hand traced along the unseen glass.
Just letting you know, if you fail, everyone down there is going to get it. Moms, dads, teenagers, kids, those little purse dogs, everyone. Including your little friends. They'll all be like you.
Something jolted up her spine at the idea.
If you manage to pull it off, there'll probably be a rescue, eventually. They'll drain the elevator, crane you out, and send you home. I'm not sure what you'd do for a living after that. The Voice sounded thoughful. College is out of the question. Can't imagine attending your high-school reunion.
She'd be alone. A freak, a curiousity, a lab rat. Unless, of course, there were a lot more freaks.
Elevator'd be a total loss. Not sure what they'd put on the insurance forms.
There was a crack in the glass.
"What is it?"
Hm? Oh, right, sorry, forgot you were listening.
She grit her teeth. Enough with the head games.
All you have to do, said the Voice, is keep your hands off yourself.
She...she...
For the next thirty seconds. That's all you have to do. Can you do that...Emily?
Her hands wrapped around her dick like it was a magnet, like she was trying to hold a firehose closed and then she came and came and filled the elevator to the ceiling and kept going and there was so much pressure and the glass broke -
"Obeysance: Going Up" by Eulalie "Nequ" Quentin 2014 Creative Commons By-SA-NC
Full disclosure : The "you're the one who's dripping" line is a reference to a piece by Angrboda. In fact, this entire piece was loosely inspired by Lemonfont's "Orgasm Obedience", on their website under "Other Comics". And some other things that have been knocking around in my hindbrain for a while now, such as the idea of black cum. You can even see that actually used in some of my prior stories, though never as...prominent as it is here.
Most FtH TGs, no matter what supplemental aspects (latex, furry, bimbo, whatever), seem to end with the dick growing out. I wanted to try starting with the dick and then having everything else change. Also, the climax isn't actually the...climax of this story, though I didn't realize that until I was done. Likey?
Heh. "Her Master's Voice".
Previously in public mall transformation : Bad Dog, No Biscuit