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I was having a bad day.

All you need to know is that the boss yelled at me about something that doesn't matter anymore, told me to go home early. It was maybe one, and Fandango said there was a showing of that movie I wanted to see in thirty minutes.

And now these jerks were getting hot and heavy in the row in front of me.

Now, I don't have any problem with folks having a little fun in the back row. As long as they're quiet. Like Uncle Carl used to say, it's just common courtesy. But neither he nor she were exactly inclined to think of others right now.

"Excuse me," I said.

They didn't notice.

"Excuse me!" I said, louder.

Still bupkis.

There was a sucking noise.

It was made by a girl sitting next to them. She was just polishing off her soda, and in the light of the hero finding the girl in the construction site, I noticed how the sucking bought out her cheekbones. And the shaved sides of her head.

So I tapped her on the shoulder.

"Isn't this bothering you?"

She looked to her right, then back at me, then shook her head. Huh. Asian. I don't want to sound racist, but I'm pretty sure she's not out of high school. College freshman at the latest.

"Well, could you tell them to turn down the volume? For me? Please?"

She mulled it over. Then put down her drink next to her, and started to climb over the seat.

"Hey, no, wait, I didn't-"

And then she fell into my lap.

I'm pretty sure it was on purpose. There were a few confused seconds, and I'm pretty sure I felt a belly button ring, and then she's straddling my lap, hands on my shoulders. "I said I wanted them to keep it down, not to join i-"

She kissed me.

Tongue piercing.

Okay, so this was happening.

I figured I could stand to miss the vital IKEA scene.

She leaned back, then pulled her top up and her bra down. Pierced on the right, not the left. Not too big, but like Aunt Wilma used to say before the smokes got her, more than a handful is a waste.

I reached for them.

She slapped my hands away. What the-

Wagging finger. Then she reached back over the seat and grabbed her tray.

I haven't mentioned this yet, but this girl was not exactly Kim Kardashian, if you get my drift. Skinny, narrow hips, barely any curves. I liked my women with a little more figure.

Specifically, an actual figure.

Still, I found myself with one hand on her legs (which were in those cute thigh-high striped stockings), and the other with a hand on the small of her back. She picked a pepperoni slice off of her pizza, dangled it above her mouth, dropped it in, chewed it, then cupped my face and kissed me again.

Yeah, I know the reference, "that's a spicy meatball!"

Then she did the same with another slice, except she put it about six inches under her left nipple.

Wait, did she want me to-

She raised an eyebrow at me.

She sure did.

So I lean forward, take a lick. Then another and another one. I'm figuring I just do that for a while, then start nibbling.

And then my tongue gets stuck.

To this day, I still don't know how. I can't see what's happening, and it feels like it's caught in something hard. When I pulled away, it came with me. I kept tugging, and just as I realize it feels more like a nipple than a slice of cured meat, my tongue pops free.

It wasn't just a nipple, it was the whole boob. Third point in a triangle.

Speaking of which, it looked like my tongue piercing had gotten caught in the nipple ring of the new tit. Which was a breaking story to me, considering that when I had walked into the theatre, my tongue had been as smooth and unmarred as the first time I latched onto a woman's breast.

Well, except for those scars from that time with my brother Cody and the cigarette lighter.

Now, remember how I said that her right nipple was pierced? Remember how I said that her boobs were small? Well, not anymore. Not only was the new tenant a healthy size, but so was the top right. That one was a bar.

I hadn't seen anything like this since my cousin Ricky went swimming at the last family reunion.

What are you waiting for? She rolled her finger in the grease from the pizza, and rubbed it in a circle on her chest. I could barely make out the shiny spot.

Well, it was rude to keep a lady waiting.

Soon she had two sets of boobs, arranged in a kinda square. The others didn't have piercings, though.

I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why I didn't get up and call Security. Or at least an underpaid teenager with a flashlight. Honestly, it occurred to me, but for one thing, she was straddling me, and it wouldn't be easy.

For two, it was kinda hot.

Anyway, that was when she pulled up my shirt. I'm gonna be honest here; I have not been keeping up on my cardio.

She grabbed a plate of nachos, which made me a little antsy, considering that I don't like jalapeños in my mouth, much less on my chest. Luckily, she stuck to the chips and not-cheese, which she used to tease my nipples, shmearing the orange stuff all over them. Then she stuck a chip to each one, and sat back, to get a good look at her handiwork.

I hadn't seen anything like this since that time I walked into a strip club and found second cousin Nona on center stage.

Then the girl leaned forward and bit.

I'm not sure exactly what was going on down there. I know there was crunching, and the cheese was getting moved around, and a bunch of little bits, and a little pain, and a pulling feeling, and somehow after all that was done, she leaned away and left me looking down at my new left boob, with a nice golden bar in it. Looked just like the one in her right, except that hers had little cones on the end and mine had balls.

While I was distracted, she leaned in again. This time I felt the weight as she let go, and I wasn't surprised one little bit to find a plain gold ring dangling from it. It didn't actually seen to be weighing it down, but it sure felt like it.

Wait, was my waist narrower?

Then I got distracted by her smushing her chest against mine. Specifically, she kinda sandwiched my boobs between both of her pairs. Like...scissors cuts paper. While she was doing that, her free hand was grabbing my pants and pulling the front open. Then she pulled down my boxers. She had a bunch of little black and silver rings on her fingers. I remember the feeling when the cold little studs touched my Johnson when she snaked her finger underneath.

That's when I noticed her navel ring was doing something weird. I thought it was the lighting at first, but she seemed...silver, somehow? Like it was spreading from her stomach - no, from the piercing-

She grabbed my hands, wrapped her hands around mine, and wrapped mine around the ring. It was thicker, heavier, hotter than I think is normal, and there was some strange texture to it.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, and let go.

I looped two fingers through the ring, and stopped.

She gave me a Look that somehow goes You're not gonna rip it out. At least, I think you're not.

I gave it a little tug, and I swear, it gives. Just like the tits, it was pulling flesh outta thin air. Her flat abs ain't so flat no more.

For no reason I can think of, I pushed it back in. Her belly went flat again, but the more important part was the bulge in her shorts.

"What."

A moan this time. Don't stop.

Pulled out, farther this time, and pushed it back in. The bulge bulged. And again. And again. And then the zipper split and her silver cock flopped out over mine.

My first thought was aw, she's bigger than me! My second was that's not human. And it was. Big enough to eat my dick whole, and still have room for desert. The size made me think "horse" but the shape was all wrong.

I found out later that pig penises are corkscrew-shaped. If I had seen something like that sitting on my lap, I would've been gone like a bat outta - well, no pun intended.

We both stared at it for a second.

"Okay," I said. "Now what?"

She thought about it, then reached under my balls with one hand to start scratching, and warmed up her own equipment with the other. This got us both up to half-chub. I saw that she still had her snatch underneath, and it wasn't clear what she was going to do, especially when she grabbed some Twizzlers and tied them around my Johnson.

I asked her what she was doing. She just smiled at me, and slid my dick into hers.

I can't exactly describe the sensation. Just tight, and wet, and hot. I've had sex with women before, and this wasn't it.

I can't describe the smell either.

About the only thing I can describe is the optics.

When I was a kid in Houston, there was an art project. Some liquor company paid some art guys to paint some 3d letters and their bottle with a thousand coats of paint. It took most of a year, and every time we saw it on our way to school, there was a new coat of paint.

I used to imagine what it would look like up close. The edges being dulled. Covered up. Altered. If YouTube had been around back then, there probably would've been a viral timelapse video instead of just the local news interview and traffic slowdowns.

And it probably would've looked a lot like what was happening to my cock.

It was subtle, at first. The dim light didn't help. But eventually, I did realize the shape was changing with every thrust she made. I could smell it, I could nearly taste it.

Ever closed your eyes or put a blindfold on, then just kinda sensed where the wall is? I could do that too, now. Somehow, the shlick noises and, ahem, my moans were painting a kind of picture in my head, and I definitely wasn't downright human down there anymore.

I didn't even realize my head had changed until later. Or notice the brown slickness creeping its way out from my nipples and the juices Silver splashed on my crotch. I did notice my hips expanding like Aunt Nicki during the holidays, but only because my mistress stopped for a second to grab her drink.

I have to admit, by this point I was kinda excited to see what was up next on the itinerary. So when she just took an ice cube - really, more like an ice Scrabble tile - and put it in her mouth, seemed like kind of a letdown.

Then she kissed me.

I haven't seen many girls turning into silver-colored shemales, but it seemed to me that her face was shaped differently now. The tusks coming out of her lower jaw were a giveaway. Her nose seemed to have turned up a little. Our cocks were squeaking now, kinda like the sound two balloons would make if you rubbed them against each other. I could feel the pressure building up, but with the Twizzlers blocking the outtake, so to speak, nothing was happening. Remember that couple making out? The ones who started this whole thing?

I looked at them at this point, and I realized something; they weren't making out, she was giving him head! I can...hear her round ears, the horns on the bull's head. The snakelike tail coming out of her bony behind.

A rat blowing a steer.

I could smell them too, their juice, their sweat, their popcorn. He wore Old Spice deodorant, washed his clothes with Gain. She was wearing Secret, and was thirsty enough to hump a frozen hot dog if it was jumbo. From the smell, he was trying the ol' hole in the popcorn tub trick, and things escalated.

Which was where I came in.

Mmm, buttery, salty cock.

How did I even know that?

And why didn't I notice before?

Because it's not allowed. Until you're ready.

That's is when I realized that my face felt wrong. No, not wrong, just different. My nose was off, and my ears weren't on the side of my head.

Wait, where's Silver?

She's waiting for me, with a smile on her face. The ice cube drips down her chin, past her tusks, falling to land on her cock.

I think it's important, somehow, that I chose. That I actually took control, that I thrusted up into her smiling face, that I licked at the ice, kissing her as I did. That I breathed deep when our snouts or muzzles or whatever they're called touched, and she did the same as she pulled the candy off, giving me release-

We already know how this thing ends.

She rolled off of me, finally giving me a chance to give myself a look. Claws, yep. Curvy, feminine figure, yep. I'm pretty sure I should be more upset about that than I actually am, but maybe because I still have my cock it's not as bad. Judging from the shape of my nose and ears, and the, y'know, sonar, I'm some kind of...bat?

Good guess, Silver thought at me.

My skin looked shiny, just like the pig, except it was a different color. What...what was that type of coffee?

"Mocha," said my mistress/sister/sub/whatever we feel like today. "You're thinking of mocha, Mocha."

Where were my wings?

"Hey," someone hissed behind us. "You wanna keep it down? Some of us are trying to watch the movie!"

Silver raised an eyebrow at me. She was sprawled over the seats next to me, happy as, well, a pig in mud. You want to take this? she thought. Pick up your wings?

Gladly.

I scrambled over the seat, landing in the complainer's lap.

"Hey...wanna treat?"

FIN

"Obeysance 4: Silver Scene"

2016 Nequ

CC By-SA-NC

Fan Stories Welcome

++Q++

You'd think security at a theatre would mean watching free movies. Nope, it's ripping tickets and occasionally detaining bootleggers I catch on the night vision cameras. And not even much of those; everyone just downloads their pirated movies these days.

Anyway, today I saw something weird going on in Screen 5. Now, the policy from upstairs is to just ignore people getting hot and heavy, unless the rest of the patrons start to complain. And you've seen one sloppy makeout, you've seen them all. But this was interesting enough to get me to put down Hearthstone.

You know, I didn't even care that I was watching something that was physically impossible. So when the woman went "enjoying yourself?" in that silky voice of hers, I jumped.

And then I turned around. I was supposed to say "ma'am, are you authorized to be in the security room?" What I actually say is nothing at all.

The woman in front of me was wearing some sorry of all-over black and white catsuit, made out of, I dunno, that stuff they make club shorts out of. Think Trinity from "The Matrix" if she ate a sandwich once in a while.

Also, she had a penis. Should I have led with that?

"I think you are," she said.

What?

"Enjoying yourself." The face was more like a mask, but I can still tell her gaze flicks downward towards my-

Oh, right.

I yanked my hand out of my pants, my face burning. I had a tissue in my pocket, but it was my right pocket, so-

Suddenly, she was right there, holding my hand, giving it a long lick like a cat. I shivered. Her other hand is holding a hood.

"I'd like to give you a choice," she says. "You could spend the rest of your life in little rooms like this, or you could come with me."

"I could go to night school," I muttered.

She gave me over of those Suuuure. looks.

"What would I do?"

"That." She tapped the screen. The bat had gone down on the person who had been in the row behind. They seemed kinda worried about getting caught, though judging by the way their head wasn't jerking around as much, their cares were being soothed away.

"Am I the one on the chair, or the one on her knees?"

"Depends on how I feel. I gave the pig a piercing, didn't expect it to go that well." She smiled. "Go me. You don't have to be a she, or even a shemale..."

"But there are going to be some changes, right?"

"That's how it works. I don't make the rules. "

"Who does?"

"I dunno. I just roll with it."

"Can I get a...test drive? Just a weekend?"

"I think I can swing that."

We exchanged contact information, and she headed for the door, pausing with a range on the knob.

"Sorry if I was a little awkward," she said. "You're my first."

"First what?"

"Pet." She thought for a sec. "Do you like lizards?"

---

---

With today's prices, you'd have to be batty to pig out at the movies ow ow stop it I'm sorry ow-

This story becomes a lot more entertaining if you imagine the narrator is a disaffected 20-something Dennis Leary. Who inexplicably has a New York accent despite growing up in Texas. Silver starts off looking kind of like a young Lucy Liu during her rebellious phase.

Inspired by the Season 1 finale of Agent Carter. I actually had the idea before I wrote Obeysance 3.

This was originally going to go into more detail about the first couple and their popcorn, and the second guy would be turned into a bluejay, like that one Blackshirtboy piece. But I couldn't get it to "click" unless I slimmed it down.

The billboard mentioned was for Absolut Vodka, and the art guys who did it are known as The Art Guys. It was done in the late 90s. I first learned about the duo from an in-flight magazine, and the pictures of a telephone slowly being turned into a vague lump by the successive layers of paint. And while I was writing this, I suddenly remembered the image.

Maybe next time I'll do something clever with the Skymall catalogue.