First Cum, First Serve

"W-what is happening," she moaned. The sensitive flesh demanded to be touched, and her dainty fingers slid forward to grasp her new cock. She barely noticed the neon pink nail polish that had formed spontaneously on her cuticles. Just another marker of her as a new slut with an adorable dick.

"The Shake It, Baby needs more staff, dear. And since you were clearly unable to pay, I figured you'd be the best one to 'recruit' for the job. You'll be paid in real money, of course. But employment bonuses include scarfing down a certain amount of thick cum every day you work. That might include your own, of course. I can't keep up with demand by myself, after all." Zelda laughed as two fatty orbs fell out of Leslie's body. She knew they'd be filling with more tainted spunk every second, turning into lewd cumtanks in a few minutes that demanded to be released. Leslie couldn't properly vocalize her outrage. She was too busy stroking her thickening dick, now approaching seven inches in size. It stopped around there, leaving her with enough to fuck but significantly inferior to Zelda's own member.

"I can't stop...I can't stop touching myself," Leslie moaned pitifully. Trapped by her body's overwhelming sensations, her corrupted form was but a puppet for a set of tainted compulsions that left her the perfect jizz-pig for her Mistress' needs.

Zelda squatted down to run her hand along her new pet's flushed cheek. "I know, dear. I know. Good news is, you won't ever have to. You can be my strokeslut for all time now. If you'd like that, why don't you leave a big, sticky mess on my floor for me. You're so new to these sensations, I bet you have no idea how to hold back. So just keep going, sweetie. Let me see your sticky submission~"

It took less than thirty seconds more for Leslie to burst. She squealed like an animal in heat as her first cock-based orgasm overwhelmed her. Thick gouts of pink seed splashed the tiled floor, quickly forming a streaky puddle that pooled in the grout like someone had dumped a gallon of strawberry milk on the floor. Zelda stroked Leslie's pretty, platinum blonde hair throughout, almost lovingly. Almost.

"There, see? That must be at least a litre of cream you've churned for me. Such a good girl! Your cum won't be fertile of course, we can't have that. It will, however, be delicious! But I don't like when my employees leave messes without cleaning up. Get on your knees and gulp that down, slut." Zelda commanded. Leslie shook her head. Lick her own corrupted cum? Disgusting! But there was something in her body that made it almost impossible to obey. She fought against her obedient compulsions, shaking her head like a child who had been asked to eat her veggies.

"N-no! That's dirty and wrong..." she said. She tried to force enthusiasm into her tone, but a large and growing part of her just wanted to obey the directive.

Zelda feigned a huff of disappointment. "That's too bad, then. I suppose my little seedslut won't be getting an extra dose of my own cum now."

Leslie whimpered. She did her level best to try to resist the order. But her body wasn't wholly hers anymore. Eventually, it was too much to bear. SHe pushed her face into the globs of fuchsia fecundity and licked it up like a dog with a bowl of water. Zelda couldn't help but get hard at the sight. Poor girl had become totally enslaved to her urges.

Zelda pressed her hand to Leslie's lower back, right above her ass. She concentrated, and soon a pattern emerged emblazoned on her skin. In runic sigils, she marked a seal on Leslie's body. It could be broken, but only with the witches consent. For now, the transformed girl was hers by arcane rite. Her fate sealed in a tramp stamp, how inappropriate!

Leslie wobbled to her knees. Strawberry cum dripped down her chin, but most of the mess had been ameliorated. Zelda gave the girl a few pats on the head. "Good girl! You've earned another dose, fresh from the source!" There was no resistance this time, and Leslie latched onto Zelda's half-hard cock with the enthusiasm of a dehydrated sailor lost at sea. She pumped her new mistress' fat cock with both hands, all while fellating her first few inches in a bid to get Zelda to dump another hot load onto her tongue.

"C'mon dear, you must better than that. I'm not an amateur."

Leslie actually looked distraught at the taunt. "Please...please tell me how I can make you cum for me. I promise I'll do anything!"

"Anything, eh? What size dress do you wear? Nevermind, I guess we'll have to improve. None of your own clothes will fit you anymore after all~"

***

Jeanine entered the cafe, laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She'd heard all kinds of good reviews from this 'Shake It, Baby' place. It didn't occur to her that the only customers seemed to be women. Maybe it was just a really positive feminist locale? She shrugged and took a seat at one of the booths.

"Good afternoon! Can I get ya something to drink? I recommend the milkshake!" came a pretty voice. Clip-cloping over in heels was a gorgeous blonde. Her features were almost a parody of the feminine ideal. Wide hips, large butt, and breasts that could barely be contained in her light pink uniform top. She wore a similarly coloured pink skirt, appointed with a nametag that read 'Lezlee' in block letters. It looked like she'd spilled some icing on her lower leg. A long line of pink frosting drizzled down it from an unknown source. Must have been a cake or something, she reasoned.

Jeanine picked up the little beverage menu next to the salt and pepper shakers and thumbed through it. "Y'know, I am kinda thirsty for something sweet. What flavour do you recommend?"

The waitress shivered visibly, almost looking like the question had excited her. "O-oh, I really like the Manager's Special Shake, but I know that Strawberry Sugar is a f-favourite~" Lezlee squirmed in place after saying that. Jeanine just thought the waitress might be a bit slow and continued her ordering process, ignoring the strange reactions.

"I'll try the strawberry, then." Jeanine handed off the menu, which the waitress had to keep still long enough to grasp before scrambling back to the kitchen. She almost thought she saw her tugging at the front of her skirt, but that might have been Jeanine's imagination.