Jillion Orgasms

"No," Jill groaned and squeezed around, harder this time, "More... give me more..."

But that was all her mind could take. The earlier alcohol, elation and exhaustion overcame her, lulling the poor girl, turned futanari, to sleep. Even so, her body kept moving, tormenting her even in dreams.

Waking up proved a difficult affair. Her eyes refused to open, crusted shut. She wiped at it until she could see, and was greeted by a crusty sheet of white across most of her body, along with a cock staring up at her from between her now enormous breasts.

"Oh god, it really happened," Jill said and poked at the thing to her instant remorse as it lurched against her, launching a quick salvo of cum across her face. Not much more than a normal load, but the cock wasn't much bigger than normal either. At least it should be easy to hide when it softened up.

'When' soon turned to 'if', which became 'prayed' as the hours passed and it never did. Jill moved as carefully as ever, though her consciousness soon brought the sensitivity back to mind. No wonder it stayed hard, she thought after trying to shower. Just a splash of water set the thing off, inundating her mind with pleasure and relief. Even shielding it proved impossible, as the rest of her skin was rained on, pushing her to an edge that'd never come. She managed. However, it proved costlier as she returned to the same state as last night.

Worse, she thought as she trembled on the floor, trapped in a state of perpetual pleasure. Just the steam of from her shower was like someone rubbing her pussy. Then she grazed her new cock, dirtying her clean skin once more, but relieving that delirious sensation.

"That has to be it," Jill muttered and chided herself as her lips moved. Even they were hyper sensitised. She grabbed her prick, moaned and grinned from the release. No more than a couple spurts, but it was so much better than any orgasm before. She stroked it, each circuit setting off another burst. Her tempo increased with each one, giggling in her delirium.

It was only thanks to her phone ringing that she stopped. For a few seconds. She went back to her bedroom, searching for the device while one hand kept jacking her spewing member, spreading its seed around without care. If she stopped, she feared her body would shut down again.

"H-hey, Samantha," Jill answered, trying to keep her voice from moaning and quivering with the endless pleasure.

"Are you okay?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah! Y-yeah, why?"

"Dunno, just thought you'd have a hangover."

"N-n-n-nope, not me," Jill said and disguised her pleasure with a grunt as she struggled to pull on her tights. Fuck, if her pussy could cum then they'd be soaked already.

"Are you sick? Sounds like you've got a cold or something," Samantha said.

"Mmm-maybe. I should be fine though. Just... just need to... cum..."

"What was that?"

"Come to work! That's what said. Yeah. Anyway, I need to get dressed and eat something and stroke my... bye!" Jill hung up and collapsed to her knees, spewing semen all over her leggings. She needed to get a grip. Work was hard enough with her pussy constantly going off, but that at least was manageable, this thing just kept spewing cum all over the place. Honestly, she was amazed she hadn't passed out from dehydration.

With time not being on her side, Jill used her only option; her panties. She stacked them against her pussy, stemming the flow, and wrapped them around her cock, soaking up its constant ejaculations. In total, she used a dozen just to feel presentable. The leggings were a lost cause, but no one should notice with her sudden boob increase and if she bent over a little more.

"I'm here!" Jill announced when she arrived at work ten minutes late. The walk had been a nightmare, with every little breeze and asshole passer-by stress testing her panties. This solution wouldn't work. The constant orgasms would get too much, she was sure of it.

"I'll just change, then I'll help out," she excused herself and went into the changing rooms. Cum had already soaked through the first five layers she'd used. Removing them caused another burst, thankfully it landed in her locker and only a drop got on the floor, "Okay, I've got your number this time, you bastard."

Jill snickered and wrapped her underwear around the base of her prick. Eventually, the pressure overcame her ejaculate, keeping it trapped inside. She pumped her fist in victory, setting off a colossal wave through her braless chest, and reminding her that she was still cursed. It's just one day, she thought and got changed. What's the worst that could happen?

Damn her professionalism! Jill had spent so long learning to handle her condition that she persisted in everything she did, regardless of how troublesome her body was, and cursed or not, this would be no exception. She had her cock trapped against her waist, her pussy sealed behind a half a dozen of her panties, and her nerves were at their limit. Worst of all was the pressure.

Even as she took a table's order, the urge to cum was almost overwhelming. They probably enjoyed her hips squirming, as if she were desperate to serve them, but that was far from it. Her cock was throbbing so hard, like it would break out any second, the sensation even drowned out her own heartbeat. When she finally had a break, she locked herself in the restroom and checked on her new addition.

"Oh fuck," Jill groaned in dismay. There was no better way to describe than 'it looked fucking pissed', specifically at her. The head had dyed a deep, ruddy purple, veins popping out and pulsating across the shaft, while the straps of her panties dug deep into the base. See no evil, she thought and covered it back up.

Hiding the problem only worked for so long. The pressure in her cock worsened, becoming a constant burden deep inside her. She still had hours to go, but she'd pushed through worse. At least she wasn't cumming customers food and watching them eat it. That'd be hot. And wrong. Mostly hot.

Fuck, even her brain wasn't working right. Jill busied herself as best she could, taking other waitress's tables if they wanted a break, and even bussing tables. Her top was tight, making it harder to breathe normally, but she kept up appearances. No way was she about to let anyone know she was having trouble. That pride bit her back not long after.

"Did you spill something on your shirt?" Samantha asked, eyeing Jill's top. Things had slowed down, giving them a chance to talk.

"Not that I know of," Jill said, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Looks kind of wet to me," Samantha said and looked closer, "Also, what the fuck happened to your tits?"

"Um, uh, you know? Double puberty, that old thing."

"Right," Samantha said, incredulous, but more concerned by her inspection. Jill also looked, wondering what might be the reason, and swallowed back a moan at the odd sense of release. Her cock was still bound, so it couldn't be that. Then what...

"Is that cum?" Samantha asked, bringing attention to the white bead soaking past Jill's top.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jill rushed away and collapsed as her thighs rubbed at her pussy. Since when did they plump up so much? Her whole body had gone insane all because it couldn't cum normally.

"Come here," Samantha said and helped her up. Jill cried out at her touch, the sensitivity racking up back at record speed.

"Oh god, I can't take it anymore!" Jill screamed and tore at her clothes. In the face of desperation, the garments were paper, and ripped easily to reveal her heaving tits. All four jiggled in the open, their nipples bigger than ever and leaking viscous jizz. She didn't delay and grabbed two, squeezing them like she had her cock. Milky cum jettisoned from the two and landed several tables over. The relief only lasted a second, before pressure built once more inside her four breasts.

She needed the real thing. Jill, heedless of the public eyes gawking at her, let her cock out into the open and undid the straps of her panties. Or tried to. They were locked in place. She frantically pawed at them, trying in vain to organise her fingers correctly.

"Let me," Samantha said and calmly undid the loop.

"OOH, THANK YOU!" Jill shrieked and stroked her tender, angry-looking and oh-so very full cock. Several ropes launched at once, stopped for a heartbeat, then resumed with enhanced vigour. She used both hands, alternating their positions to never stop the festival of semen. Customers that were too close got their faces covered, others had their food drenched, and a few even caught some in their mouths. At least no one seemed unhappy with the service.

On and on. Jill didn't know if she existed, or anyone else did, locked into an endless loop of her cocks orgasms. The thing had exploded in size, swelling almost to the size of her forearms and so thick she couldn't wrap both hands around it. All the pressure and sensitivity rushed away under her efforts, shooting out into the void.

"How long has she been going now?" Karen asked. She and Samantha stood over the insensate futa, who kept mindlessly jerking off, moaning and giggling on occasion.

"Two hours I think," Samantha said, watching her friend work in a mixture of worry, pity and lust.

"Well, if it's because of that witch, then it should be over with in a bit. I'm gonna try cleaning up."

Jill's consciousness descended back to her body just as the curse was lifted. In perfect time to leave her once more, as the rampant sensations of stroking and cumming from her cock forced her pussy to play catch up. Juices squirted from her snatch in and endless stream, puddling around her.

It only ended once the futa's body gave out and she collapsed into a pool of her own creation. Still, her sexes leaked more, never ending.

After a few months, Jill found some semblance of normalcy. So much of her life was spent without it, that she adjusted quickly enough, though her constant orgasms were far more frequent and messier now. It couldn't be helped. After all, she had a permanent ten-inch erection to deal with. Nothing she tried got it down, so she just accepted it. Strangely, people didn't seem to mind as much as she expected. So long as she kept it mostly hidden, then they just looked the other way.

The café changed tactics with her employment. She was now 'the messy one', meaning anyone that requested her got a free change of clothes and a warning about what was to come. In both iterations of the word. On her best, or worst day, she'd seen one of her customers leave drenched head to toe as they just wouldn't let her leave. At least they seemed happy about it.