Curses Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Librarian's Aide

It all began with a curse. I'm not saying I didn't maybe deserve one -- in a general sort of way. But the offence in question was declining a lovely gypsy woman's invitation for romance. Politely, I'd thought, and keeping in mind that her partner was within earshot. Indeed, said friend was toying with a knife when the curse was pronounced:

"Should someone entertain a sexual fantasy in your vicinity in the future, you will fulfill it ... until dawn, should they wish it so."

At the time it just sounded like dangerous advice. Sensing I was not welcome, I simply drank up and left. I didn't even grasp that I'd been cursed until later that evening. I suppose I'd been given a running start - there must have been a lot of fantasizing in that place.

I'd flown into town late that afternoon for a business meeting the next day. To save money I'd booked a night at the "Thistle Dew" Motel -- which was, as advertised, just barely adequate for my needs. It was in a slightly down-at-the-heel neighborhood, but within walking distance of tomorrow's meeting and likewise of the roadhouse I'd just left.

Once outside, I shook my head to clear it, although I'd only been there long enough for a burger and a few pints of indifferent lager. Truly, I felt fine. But as I got to my motel, I had the weird sensation of my suit shifting and binding in odd places. Before I could even take stock, I felt an urge to enter the room next to mine.

Without knocking, I strode in to discover a naked woman sitting cross-legged on the bed, rotating a colorful dildo in her pussy. The thing was, I was a single guy, and she was pretty, in a librarian sort of way. But even so, walking in on a lady's private wank would ordinarily have been cause for my deep embarrassment, and a hasty retreat. Instead, I stood admiring the view.

She had large and creamy breasts, with puffy nipples. Her black hair was shorter than mine, in a severe cut, and she even wore black-framed glasses. I wondered if she really needed them for the job to hand.

"There you are," she said. "I had to start without you."

I still didn't twig to any connection with a curse, although my situation was admittedly a strange one. I finally discovered how strange, when I glanced away from my pleasing discovery to my reflection in the motel mirror.

My shirt and jacket were tight because a modest set of boobs were now compressed inside and, likewise, it was broadened hips that stretched my trousers. My face was thinner and softer, and my hair was fuller, although the same length and color. Or nearly the same -- there were red highlights you'd call auburn rather than just brown. Meanwhile my belt hung loose around my diminished waist, and -- the most alarming change -- the crotch of my pants hung slack for want of contents.

I was, in short, a lanky female version of myself.

Not too bad looking either, if I do say it (in retrospect), but at that moment I relied on whatever compulsion that had brought me in this door to get me through the total confusion that gripped me.

'Marion the librarian', my host, laughed. "Stop preening yourself and get over here." To clear a path for me, she pulled her toy out of her snatch. The thing was a clever blend of phallus and tongue, and she slipped it into her mouth as she readjusted her legs to spread them wider. Oddly enough, while I was still dazed, I somehow knew what to do. Not the full arc of this evening's entertainment, as yet; but my first order of business was clear.

Beyond the obvious cunt licking that 'Marion' was signalling for, I knew to start by stripping for her, and I knew how to do it for maximum effect. She didn't strike me as an aficionado of the bump-and-grind style. I simply did a slow peel - first the jacket and tie I'd already loosened at the pub, then the business casual shirt I'd worn for travel. She made some smacky noises on the dildo, so I arched my back to let my proud nipples make themselves known through my tight cotton vest.

That prompted a nod from her, which encouraged me to milk the moment (as it were) by lifting my arms high behind my head before shedding the undershirt to expose my new chest for further inspection. Not least by myself - I couldn't help but curiously brush my thumb across one firm tit and down my side. That brought a shiver of pleasure that caught my breath ... and the sensation of a most unfamiliar leakage below. It was reminiscent of a pre-come event, only stronger.

My wide-eyed gasp was acknowledged with a smile - at least the corners of her mouth twitched up around the wang-tongue on which she was still thoughtfully sucking. This was followed by another nod when I finally gripped my belt buckle and lifted a questioning feminine eyebrow.

Having been given consent to continue, I whipped off my belt with a flourish, then skinned off my pants and shoes. My boxers I left until I'd stepped over to Marion's bed. Thrusting my hips forward, I wriggled an invitation for her to pull the clearly masculine garment down to my ankles. Then I lifted one dainty foot free and set it on the bed next to her, knee swung outboard to improve her view.

My reward was her sex-toy being deftly inserted in my waiting pussy. I had no trouble with moving on to finally servicing her, since the sensations reporting in from my own newly acquired 'love tunnel' already had me dropping to my knees.

Once I'd found myself trembling between her legs, I dimly thought I was on relatively familiar ground. I had always thought I was pretty good at cunnilingus. And perhaps I was - for a man. But I discovered that my new form brought a deeper expertise, so to speak. And that was before I found I now possessed a foot-long tongue.

It couldn't have surprised her - this was her fantasy, after all - but she squealed all the same and began to writhe uncontrollably as I explored her depths. Even with the mad events so far, and the unimagined input from my own cunt (which was still clutching the rude toy), I found her reaction to my lingual efforts to be most satisfying.

She came first when I began to probe the interior of her uterus (I was mapping my way around in there by recalling the library medical texts I had surreptitiously studied in my youth - when porn, having skipped the introductory explanations, didn't seem to make sense).

Afterwards, I withdrew my tongue far enough to revisit her vagina proper, and tried to find its further end. When I found that wall and pushed against it, she came hard and clamped down on me. Then, when she finally released her inner grip, I tried again ... only to find her cunt had somehow retreated several inches deeper. My tongue grew yet longer, to accord with her wishes, until I bottomed out again. This we repeated three times, and then she laughed and pushed my head out of her tasty crotch.

I climbed up over her body, because I knew she now wanted to tongue wrestle ... while boob mashing and pussy-grinding with me. That first was great, because her tongue was now as long as mine; as for the tittie thing, well, I've always been up for sweaty skin-on-skin. And that last ... Oh My God! As a man, I'd always wondered how women, when together, could get by without penetration. But my new clit was even more sensitive than my old knob. We both came, swept into continuous, exhausting, monster orgasms.

Given the difficulty in focusing under such conditions, it took me longer than it should have to notice my clitoris had begun to grow. At somewhere around the stiff three-inch mark, it caught my attention -- and Marion's -- by slipping into alignment with her. Now lodged in place, it continued to gain length and girth. As before, while this was part of my librarian friend's fantasy, she seemed surprised and responded with a gasp and a wail, and began to writhe wildly. Well, more wildly -- she'd already seemed to lose control.

Whether she'd truly willed it or not, she coming was along for the ride (so to speak), as my mademoiselle-meat began to fill her ... and as I'd discovered by probing with my tongue earlier, her tunnel was magically ready for a sturdy fourteen inches or so.

Her pussy began to clutch and spasm fiercely, so the progress of my thrusting was slow. By the time I finally bottomed out with my knob somewhere deep in her belly, she was limp (on the outside, that is - her cunny-action continued, all along its improbable depth). I, on the other hand, was monstrously stiff. I soon felt that good old sensation of surging cum driving down my clit-cock; but I was not prepared for how much there would be. As I continued to pump my jism, she revived enough to wail again, louder now, as her belly swelled visibly and her own orgasm reached its peak.

By then, it was probably about midnight. Having come, Marion promptly passed out and, although I was still lodged inside her, I felt definitively dismissed.

I gently pulled myself free of her still quaking cunny and stood. To my surprise, my pseudo-wang continued to stand proudly erect in front of me. The cum that coated it looked like the real deal, and I briefly wondered if it was possible for me to knock her up. Both the male and female bits of me agreed that this was her problem, and that I had my own just now.

Marian's screams hadn't brought the cops (yet), but I decided it was safer to shower in my own room. By the wording of the curse, she presumably had my services until dawn, but I didn't think she'd wake anytime soon.

Taking a last look at this lovely creature, I thought about how her pussy had deepened to take me. Her body had morphed to accommodate her fantasy, and I wondered if this extended to enlarging her breasts while she'd waited for me.

I pulled on my pants -- there was now enough slack at waist and belly to simply lash my problematically erect cock at the vertical until I got back to my room. My coat went over (with my room key ready in an accessible pocket), and then I bundled the rest together in a bath towel. After a quick peek outside, I fled to my own digs next door.

Dumping my clothes on a chair, I hopped -- gracefully -- into the tub. I had intended to shower, but there was some (admittedly cheap) bubble bath on the counter. That seemed like a nice way to quietly ponder what the hell had just happened, and soon I was easing into a sea of bubbles. Once ensconced, I realized my sturdy clit-cock stood proud, projecting like a mast out of the foam.

The thing still glistened with pussy juices and cum, and I felt obliged to polish it. To get this right took more time than I'd expected -- particularly when I eventually realized it was well within reach of my mouth. Having ensured, with a quick taste, that the top was still soap-free, I then sucked it down until my knob was pressed against my tonsils. I managed to carry on bobbing on the thing for quite some time before a most excellent orgasm took hold.

After my bath, I reviewed myself in the mirror. I approved of what I saw, including my still huge hard-on. Toweling down, I realized it was already tomorrow. A quick sleep (supposing I didn't play with myself any more), followed by a dawn reset - and then I might even get to my morning meeting before heading for home.