Big Butt Slut

She'd taken to wearing huge bracelets - not for any reason but that she liked the noise they made. "Jingle jangle," she thought with a giggle. "Jingle jingle jangle." They matched her hoop earrings; it was the little stuff that kept Molly entertained when she wasn't fucking.

Her walk had somehow transformed into an overexaggerated parody of a sexy stride. She'd tried walking normally, just to experiment, but every step she took caused her to involuntarily throw her hips from side to side, emphasizing her womanhood and causing almost every part of her to jiggle. She presumed it was the same muscles that wouldn't let her take off her high heels - for every waking moment of her life, including eating, sleeping and showering, Molly's feet were always encased in huge heels.

Even when standing still on the street, every inch of Molly screamed sex, but when she walked, her overpronounced sway would have gotten a dead man hard. And if you were standing behind her, staring at her ass (as anyone standing behind her was almost certainly doing) you could notice, peeking out from the bottom of her ridicuously short skirt, a new marking.

Not a tattoo, but a brand. Molly had been scared, when Bubba had brought the hot metal close to her skin, but Mitchell had simply had her look into his eyes as she got branded, and that had made it all okay.

"This way," his eyes had somehow told her, "everyone will know who you belong to."

Now, she loved it. It stood out like a sore thumb, screaming to the world that she belonged to the pair of men who ran the tattoo parlour, and she genuinely wondered how she'd previously managed to live without it.

She didn't like standing outside the store like this, but both Bubba and Mitchell insisted it was necessary to ensure a steady flow of customers. She'd have rather been inside, fucking one (or both) of them, but she did what she was told. She was a good little slut for the boys.

A stray piece of paper floated past, and landed in front of Molly. She bent to pick it up, an action that caused half the street to stop and stare as she did.

It had three funny symbols on it, and a red heart.

"I..." she eventually made out, the dark recesses of her brain reactivating for the first time in months. "I...heart...NY."

Milton Glaser, she thought idly, before the rest of her brain caught up. Milton Glaser! Graphic designer, made this logo in...1977.

Oh my god. What's happened to me?

Though her body showed no outward signs of panic, her face keeping the same slack-jawed expression of dullness it perpetually held when she wasn't being rutted, Molly's mind was racing. She remembered everything - the original tattoo she'd wanted, John, her career as a graphic designer...

She tried to keep her breathing steady. Inside her head, she was aware of the rain all around her, but felt as though she was standing in the middle of it, protected.

My old life... she thought. My friends, my boyfriend, my job...

I remember everything. I remember reading, and driving, and watching TV. I remember working, and John.

But I don't remember happiness.

Her new life was, by her old standards, filthy, degrading, the actions of someone you'd spit on instead of admiring. But she had to admit, the feeling of a thick cock sliding up inside her made her feel more pleasure, more intense joy than anything in her old life. She'd never even come close to this feeling of contentedness, this knowledge that she was serving a purpose, the excitement of living her life from one cock to the next.

With a deep breath, Molly mentally lowered her umbrella. She stepped away from the dry dullness that had once been the life of Molly, and embraced her new self. One hand subconsciously lowered, and started stroking the brand that Bubba had given her. A tiny part of her mind was aware of her IQ lowering, to below what it had even been a few minutes ago, but most of her brain was scanning the area, looking for sexy men with lovely big cocks for her to suck on.

She knew that it felt tingly, but she didn't realise exactly what was happening to her asshole - it was reshaping itself to perfectly fit any cock that it came into contact with. She wriggled with pleasure, causing her huge behind to ripple and jiggle.

A man stopped at the site, and looked up at the neon above her.

"Bubba's late night specials? Is that you, hon?"

Molly giggled, despite the complete lack of humour in the man's words. Her smile was somehow made even more sexy by the blank look in her eyes. She looked down and saw his erection slowly growing at the sight of her.

Suddenly overcome with lust, Molly turned around and bent over, too dumb to realize that the street was not an appropriate place for what she was doing. The man pushed her inside, and as soon as they were through the door, lowered his pants.

"Put cock in butt now please!" Molly pleaded, her eyes clouded with need. "Please!?"

Without so much as pausing, the man spat on his hand, rubbed it on his cock, and immediately pushed into Molly's magnificent ass. He could feel her hole fitting snug around his penis, and moaned at the sensation. It was perfectly shaped around him, and already he could feel his orgasm started to build.

Molly smiled in total bliss. She didn't know it yet, but her body was subtly changing one final time. Bending over like this, her head between her legs, her ass exposed and ready for cock, this was the only position she would ever find comfortable for the rest of her life. Everything else would feel awkward, wrong, even painful.

The changes of the last few months were finally over, and now every part of her, every inch, every pore, every cell was now ready and prepared to make her the best that she could be.

Molly had finally completed her transformation into the ultimate big butt slut.