Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 07

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Ellen takes the reality-altering device to a strip club.
14.9k words
4.43
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Part 7 of the 26 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/13/2018
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Razmagurk
Razmagurk
485 Followers

Author's Note: This is part seven of my ongoing epic. This is the start of the strip club arc! The strip club arc is where stuff really starts to take off. Expect lots of fun sexy hijinx ahead.

Warning: this chapter is rated a lustier-than-normal R and includes, in part, boobs, easily distractible narrators, jiggling tits, lascivious bisexual besties, great big bouncy breasts, cheerleaders trying to pay their way through college, race swaps, assorted backstory insights, boob swaps, pole dancing, face swaps, strip clubs, breasts literally exploding out of clothing, and a loving couple who will stand together against the coming tides of darkness.

*****

Girlfriend with Testing Device

- A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts -

= Part 7 -- Pole Dance Panic =

By Razmagurk

*****

I'll spare you the details on the rest of that night went. I don't kiss and tell but... well, it was pretty great. Ellen's always been a complete and total horn dog of course, but something about my new body was just driving her wild. In my head I had all these ideas for a fashion show and maybe taking the time for her to get to know my new lingerie a little better, but once she got my tight little skirt off there was just no stopping her.

Not that I'm complaining, of course. I'm sure there are plenty of guys out there for whom sex isn't a huge priority, and I'm sure that they would probably find an insatiable girlfriend to be a difficult situation, but I am not one of those guys. In fact, at the time I was kind of grateful for it. Honestly, the body I was in hadn't stopped being horny since I got it. It must be some kind of jock thing, like, lots of testosterone heightening the libido or something, because it seemed like no matter how often or how well Ellen took me aside and just fucked me senseless, it only took the slightest provocation to get me dripping wet again. I'm not talking regular horny either, I'm talking about wave after wave of this deep, full-body carnal yearning. Its like, I'd always been down on all the jocks who wasted their whole college career just trying to get laid, but now that I was in one of their bodies, I was having a hell of a time concentrating on anything else.

And man, another thing I'm grateful for? Jock stamina. After the third round I was starting to worry that my body was going to give out long before my pussy, but somehow I managed to hang in there. One of the perks of being in shape I guess. I swear, the way we were going at it I felt like my whole body was designed specifically for wildly acrobatic all-night fuck fests.

Now, that said, I'm not going to say things didn't get a little weird. With the help of the device we finally made good on a ton of dirty kinky little ideas that had been running through both our heads all day. I think the strangest bit was probably when Ellen swapped her boobs onto me. Man, that really threw me off. I mean, she has the most beautiful boobs in the world, don't get me wrong, but when they were sitting on my chest? It was a very strange sensation, even if it was kind of fun to experience Ellen's hyper-sensitive little nipples first hand. Still, I couldn't help but feel more than a little emasculated by it, and, well, I'm not gay, so the sight of my football-player chest bouncing around on Ellen's frame as she pounded her red-hot dick into me was more of turn off than anything else.

Ellen was also weirdly obsessed with my tongue for some reason. She kept acting like she was seeing it for the first time. I guess she was considering getting a stud? She kept swapping mine back and forth between us like she was trying to decide upon a pair of shoes. It was weird not having one for a little bit -- I've had it for so long that I felt kind of naked without it -- but kissing her while she had it was a new and interesting experience. In the end she decided it was better on me, which is fine. It just meant that I got to put it to good use. Over and over again. Have I mentioned how much I love that girl?

Of all the kinky stuff we tried though, I drew the line when she wanted to swap her dick onto me. That was... well, it wasn't really for me. I felt kind of bad because she was really insistent about it, but something about the idea of me having a dick was so weird and its like... how would that even work anyway? She'd need a strap-on or something to fuck me properly, and I love her to death, but I'm not quite ready for anal, you know? I guess I could be the one doing the fucking, but Ellen's always been the dominant one in the relationship and the idea of me fucking her just felt all kinds of wrong. Plus, well, like I said, I'm not gay, the idea of Ellen having my pussy just did nothing for me. It all seemed like such a hassle and honestly, I'd much rather we spend our time with her just holding me down and pounding me sideways.

But, sorry, I'm getting distracted. The important thing is that it was a good night. Lots of fun.

Occasionally, between long and sweaty bouts of blissful sheet sharing, I would ask her about that thing she had wanted to talk about in the mall earlier, but she was either too tired or too horny to really want to talk about it.

The next morning was very similar to the one prior. I didn't quite wake her up with breakfast in bed, but we'd fallen asleep together naked and despite everything I just woke up so damned horny again. What am I supposed to do when the first thing I feel in the morning is my beautiful and amazing girlfriend's enormous rock-hard morning wood rubbing up against my plump little -- achingly wet -- pussy lips?

So, okay, our morning sex wasn't especially romantic. I had her do me from behind because I didn't have my face on yet, and as a lover at heart I regret that, but at the time I couldn't for the life of me think of anything besides just burying the hilt of Ellen's massive red-hot fuckstick inside my needy cunt. And I guess that's one of the most insidious things about this body, cause I'll be damned if sex isn't like, a hundred times better now. Mmff. I'm wet just thinking about it. Fuck.

But, right. Sorry, sorry.

So there we were, all cuddled up in bed with her wonderful dick just balls-deep inside me, giving serious consideration to just spending the whole day breaking our personal record, when suddenly Ellen's phone goes off. Damn thing is on the floor on the other side of the room so she has to jump out of bed and scramble to answer it. Turns out it's a call from the bank. After verifying that she was who she said she was, they explained that all our spending on the credit cards had triggered their identity theft alarms and they were calling to wonder if Ellen's cards had been stolen or something. She laughed and awkwardly explained that we'd won some kind of big cash prize and that everything was okay. Really, I was impressed she could think so well on the fly given that I had crawled over and had her wrapped around my little tongue, but that's my clever baby for you.

Unfortunately, that got her thinking about the bill, and, well, nothing is more of a turn off than trying to figure out how to avoid the massive debt we'd shopped our way into. Of course, I'm no stranger to a little bit of credit card debt, when I go shopping I go all in, but, well, yesterday was bad even by my standards. Still, we're both (mostly) responsible people, and we wanted to get the situation dealt with as soon as possible, so the long and short of it was that we decided that it was time to pay a little visit to Ellen's good friend Elizabeth to initiate what she was calling "Project Boobjob."

I don't know how much Ellen's told you already about Elizabeth, but the two of them have been friends since they were kids. She's kind of short and skinny, even compared to Ellen, but, well, while Ellen chose this school for its curriculum, Elizabeth was more interested in its student body, if you get what I'm saying. She's upfront about it too. She'll joke about the fact that three quarters of the reason she decided to come here was for the boys. The implication there is that the other quarter is for the academics, but honestly, I figure it was for the girls. Not that I think she'd ever admit as much to herself, but its kind of obvious that she swings both ways, especially when she's had a bit too much to drink.

Not that I'm judging, I mean, I've got nothing against girls who like other girls -- heck, I'm dating one -- but Elizabeth is one of those girls who is very obviously bi but then insists that she's straight and that, for example, the only reason she was deepthroating the cheerleading captain on the couch at that party last week was because she was trying to get the football players all wet.

Honestly, I'm a little wary of her. She gets kinda handsy when she's drunk and she likes to try and put the moves on Ellen. Occasionally, when she's really smashed, she'll start floating the idea of a three-way as kind of a half-joke. We all had a laugh the first few times, but after that it's like, I'm flattered, but at the end of the night I'd rather just be alone with the woman I love. Ellen thinks its all some great big joke, which is probably for the best. In so far as I'm concerned it saves her a lot of awkward recontextualization.

Of course, little did we know at the time that Elizabeth was soon to be the source of all our troubles. Not that things would get really bad until the party but looking back at it now I really should have seen the signs.

It was surprisingly late by the time we actually left the house. Seems like whenever we'd tried to get ready we ended up right back in bed, or on the couch, or the floor. We just couldn't help it, it was like we were both horny teenagers again. The only reason we managed to even eat was because I managed to convince Ellen how hot I'd look wearing just an apron, and even then, she bent me over the counter and pounded me from behind the whole time. Needless to say, lunch didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped.

You know, its funny. At first, I'd found the feeling of my new body to be so foreign and strange, and there were still moments where it felt like I was piloting some kind of sexy, athletic robot, but by and large I'd acclimatized very quickly to my new body. I guess nothing helps break a body in like using it, and man did we ever get a lot of use out of it. Sure, my chest still got in the way sometimes, and yeah, I wasn't as strong as I'd have thought a quarterback would be, but honestly it wasn't so bad. I guess it could have just been a result of the increased athleticism and flexibility, but there were a lot of things that were actually more comfortable in my new body than in my old. The way I moved, the way I walked, the way I stood, they all seemed much more comfortable now for some reason. Had I realized a bigger chest and a bigger ass would have made such a difference, I'd have started working out ages ago. I didn't even mind being so short -- it just gave me an excuse to wear all kinds of fun heels.

Disaster struck when Ellen and I finally broke away from each other long enough to actually start getting ready. Walking into the bathroom I realized -- to my absolute horror -- that we had completely forgotten to stop by the store and get some real makeup during our shopping trip yesterday. I was kicking myself over it. How could I of all people forget that? Worse, for some reason my entire makeup collection was gone. I had to use what we had bought at the department store yesterday. Thank god we had that. I couldn't imagine leaving home without makeup. I don't care what else they say: Mascara is a boy's best friend.

I had decided to wear one of my new outfits. I had picked out a kind of white low-cut off-the-shoulder halter-top with these super sexy long-sleeves and a little tie-string that dangled from just under my chest to the bottom of my exposed naval. I loved how tight the top was and how well it showed off my manly chest, even if it did take a bit of work to get as much cleavage showing as possible. I had paired it with a short little ruffled black miniskirt which I had pinned up asymmetrically to show off an extra little bit of my thigh. I had some sexy ruffled panties to go with the skirt that I expected would really make my butt pop, but you could totally see them poking out from under the skirt so I ended up wearing one of my little lacy side-tie thongs instead.

And yes, I know what you're going to say, but sometimes a guy likes to dress up for his girl. I wanted to make sure I gave Ellen a good show, especially considering where we were going. Sometimes it was difficult competing for Ellen's attention, but I had my little tricks. I had decided, for example, to forgo a bra so that I'd have that extra bit of bounce and jiggle to keep her eyes occupied. Sure, it made it a struggle to keep everything in place, but it was worth it for all the looks Ellen would be giving me.

I also threw on some nice dangly jewelry to further draw the eye downwards. It's a bit of a shame, but the one thing that would have really completed the look would have been some dangly little earrings, and I had never really gotten my ears pierced. I guess I should have thought of that yesterday when we were in the mall, but hey, live and learn, right? Plus, in so far as I'm concerned, any excuse to go back to the mall is a good one.

Between applying my makeup and adjusting my outfit, I must have spent a good thirty minutes getting ready while Ellen waited by the door. It probably didn't help that I was having trouble keeping my hands to myself. I always feel bad, making her wait like that, but if I'd let her in to watch me get ready we'd just wind up right back in bed.

As intended, when I finally emerged, Ellen's jaw dropped. I grinned. God, I loved it when she looked at me like that. Ellen's default expression tends to be one of faint anxiety. When she looks at me however, she softens up and she's got this whole wonderful repertoire of subtle smiles and warm looks that I just adore. Underneath all that though is Ellen's lust, and it may be a little silly, but when I can get her to skip right past all the cute romantic expressions and have her look at me like I'm a hot piece of juicy fuck-meat just waiting to get thrown on the floor and ravaged? That's how I know I've done a good job. Seeing her give me that hungry lustful gaze just makes me feel all warm and sexy and wanted. I love it.

I smiled to myself as I leaned up to give Ellen a kiss. She could be such a guy some times. And trust me, I knew a lot about guys. Growing up, I couldn't walk down the street without every warm-blooded male I walked past turning their heads to stare. I don't know what it was, but dudes just went crazy for me. Sure, I loved the attention -- I even did everything I could to encourage it -- but I'm not gay or anything, so it never went anywhere.

To my constant frustration however, no matter how sexily I batted my eyes or how provocatively I wiggled my hips, I seemed to have absolutely no luck with women. Sure I had some girlfriends, but they never found me physically attractive. That's one of the reasons I was so lucky to meet Ellen. Not only does she appreciate me for who I am, but she finds me hot as hell too. Figures she's a lesbian though, right? Not that I'm complaining. It's a situation I'm sure most guys would kill to be in.

To my delight, Ellen was wearing a simple blue blouse made entirely too sexy by the way it clung to her breasts, and jeans so tight I imagined she had to be poured into them. Her half-hard dick bulged suggestively, practically pulsating as it pressed up against its packed prison. She wasn't especially enjoying the jeans, apparently, they were just too tight for her dick, but I mean, that's what she gets for wearing women's jeans, I guess? Personally, I think they looked great on her. A little femme, but it was clearly the new style she was going for. Mmm. I ran my eyes over her. I liked her in tight clothes.

I licked my lips at the familiar outline of her delicious bulge. My mouth was watering. Maybe I could help her take care of that little problem?

Underneath her jeans she was wearing a cute little pair of lilac boy-shorts that completely failed to contain her rapidly expanding dick. No wonder it was so tight. Have I mentioned how proud I am of my baby? It takes a lot of guts to decide to wear something like that, even if she was starting off subtle, and Ellen's always been one of those people who worries constantly about what everyone else thinks, so I'm sure it must not have been easy for her.

I mean, sure, deep down it's a little weird that she's a crossdresser now, I get that, and I can't help but wonder if it means she's like, on the gender spectrum or something. Would she want to transition at some point? What would that mean for our relationship? Would I still love her if she was a guy? You know what though? It was okay. Whatever happened we were in love and we'd deal with it together. Honestly the only part of it that really bothered me was that she hadn't mentioned it earlier, but maybe it was something she only really realized it herself not too long ago.

As I sat there on my knees, deep down I kind of hoped we'd just forget this whole "trying to go out" fiasco and just spend the rest of the weekend snuggled up in bed where we belonged, doing whatever came to mind, but alas, it was not to be. Granted, I had to redo my makeup, but we did eventually get out of the house. Eventually.

Ass swinging and chest bouncing in time to the clicking of my sexy little heels, Ellen and I walked our way down to the strip club.

Okay, so, I should probably clarify a few things. First, this town has a lot of strip clubs. It was apparently a pretty common practice at our school for girls to work at such places to help pay their tuition. It was so common, in fact, that our school even had an official pole dancing club. They competed in tournaments and everything, and apparently were pretty damn good.

In addition to that, we've also got a lot of topless bars, hot sexy clubs, and hooters knock-offs, to say nothing about the sheer number of oddly specific sex-toy shops. The university's sexually permissive culture just seems to ensure a steady supply of both fresh talent and willing patrons. Its kind of weird, actually, because honestly the town isn't even all that seedy -- once you get away from the college district at least -- but the area around campus is a whole sexy little world of its own.

The specific strip club that we were heading towards was called The Forum. The name was a bit of a pun on the whole Greek theme of the school's sororities and frats. It was located just at the end of what the student body affectionately called Bar Street -- a street full of pubs, bars and restaurants conveniently abutting both the school's main gates and the student ghetto. The Forum was ideally situated at the far end of Bar Street, making it the obvious finishing line at the end of a long night of door-to-door binge drinking. As such, doing time in The Forum had become both an institution and a right of passage amongst the school's more party-minded students.

The second thing I need to clarify is that we were going there because that's where Elizabeth worked. Not as a stripper, mind you -- Elizabeth was attractive, but she didn't have a curve on her whole body -- but as a waitress. That's not to say that she didn't want to be a stripper -- apparently it had been one of her dreams back in high-school -- but the positions were competitive and she just didn't have what it took.

We were meeting Elizabeth at work for two reasons. First, she'd be getting off her shift soon, so it was a good time to meet her, and second, so that we could find her a nice big pair of tits to swap. What better place to demonstrate the power of the device than somewhere with mostly-naked subjects? That was Ellen's logic anyway. We had wanted to actually try and catch her before her shift, but, well, it didn't exactly work out. Sure, it was Saturday, and things were liable to get busy, but Elizabeth had been assuring Ellen over text that it was still early and that since the place did most of its business towards the end of the night, things would be relatively quiet.

Razmagurk
Razmagurk
485 Followers