Transformations - Return to Sinful Suburbia Ch. 01

Stacie felt herself tear up. "Careful. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Mary shook her head. "It's my job, and I think I'm really going to like my job."

"I loved them," Stacie whispered.

"Tyler and Emily?"

Stacie nodded. "I miss them. It's lonely here without them."

Mary smiled. "Not anymore."

Stacie stared into her eyes. "No. Not anymore."

Mary kissed her and rolled onto her side. "What's the status of the MILF Whore experiment?"

Stacie took a deep breath. "Complete success. Mothers are the key to the home. Possess the mothers, and you control the family."

"So, we're going to make more MILFs?"

Stacie pursed her lips. "We're going to turn every mother in the Ithaca suburbs into a MILF Whore."

Mary's eyes flashed. "Do tell?"

"Churches. Churches are our way in... and, we now control 90% of the churches in Ithaca."

***

Stacie sipped her morning coffee at the kitchen table the next morning. She had left Mary sleeping in their bed. She smiled thinking about the night before.

She supposed that counted as a 'honeymoon' to the Church.

Six times before the sun came up she had made love to the beautiful Futa.

There were definitely perks to being part of the Church of Morpheus.

"Mistress Stacie, Dr. Demona is waiting for you in the foyer," SlutzNet announced over the speaker in the ceiling.

"Send her in." She stood up and straightened her red silk robe.

The goth doctor came into the kitchen wearing her tight pink nurse's outfit.

"Demona? I wasn't expecting you today."

Demona held up her medical bag. "I come bearing gifts."

"Really?"

Demona opened her bag and withdrew a syringe with electric blue fluid.

"What's that?" Stacie asked as Demona tapped the bubbles out of the syringe and expelled them from the needle with a tiny fountain of blue.

"I told you: a gift. Sit down and spread your legs."

Stacie laughed. "Um, excuse me?"

"Sit. Spread. Now." She grinned wickedly.

Stacie hopped up on the kitchen island and spread her legs, exposing her slick, pink pussy. "I thought no Church medications would work on us after we were transformed?"

Demona knelt between her thighs. "That's correct - unless we're activating something that was already done to you. This serum activates a little trait that's dormant inside you. It's a power really."

"A power?"

Demona leaned forward and kissed Stacie's pussy. "Mmm, I see you've been fucking your Futa? Love the taste of Futa cum. I gave it a bit of licorice taste, did you notice?"

Stacie laughed. "Yes, delicious, but stay on topic, please? What kind of power?"

"Going to feel a little stick." She wrapped a rubber tourniquet around Stacie's upper right thigh. "I need a vein, sorry."

"You need a vein right beside my cunt?"

Demona giggled. "No, it could be anywhere. I just love the view." She winked up at Stacie.

Stacie laughed. "You are such a perv." She gasped as the needle went in.

Demona began emptying the contents of the syringe into Stacie's vein.

At the same time, she began to lick and suck Stacie's clit.

"Jesus!" The combination of pleasure and pain was delicious.

She barely felt the needle being withdrawn.

Demona released the tourniquet while still sucking Stacie's clit.

Stacie felt warm all over as whatever was in the needle flooded into her system.

Stacie's eyes grew heavy.

Demona laid her back on the island gently. "Just let them close and relax. Don't open them until I tell you, okay?"

"Whatever you say, doctor. I'm not going to grow a dick, am I?"

"You want a dick?"

Stacie laughed. "No. Although I am growing partial to Mary's."

"Dicks are overrated. Let me show you." She dove back between Stacie's legs and began tongue fucking her pussy.

Stacie kept her eyes closed as she stroked Demona's beautiful black hair.

Her eyes burned, but it wasn't really unpleasant.

Demona was successfully keeping her mind off it.

She felt her orgasm growing.

The doctor alternated her clit licking with her plunges into Stacie's depths.

After a few minutes, she stopped licking and used her fingers instead. "Cum, you little slut."

Stacie laughed and her body squeezed Demona's fingers hard.

She gritted her teeth and arched her back as the orgasm ripped through her.

Demona stroked her stomach, her other hand gently stroking Stacie's sensitive pussy.

"Okay. Five minutes. That's long enough. Open your eyes."

Her eyesight was blurry to begin with, but slowly Demona's smiling face came into focus.

"What did you do to me? Other than giving me a very beautiful cum?"

Demona leaned down and got something out of her bag.

She held a hand mirror to Stacie's face.

Her eyes.

They had been blue after transformation - Chasey Lain blue they had said.

But, now they were electric blue. Patterns seemed to be moving in her irises.

And, they glowed dimly.

"What the fuck?" She whispered.

"Hypnotic eyes. We just perfected them. I installed some down at the farm."

"Hypnotic eyes? You mean I don't need to give people the injections anymore?"

"Nope. Just stare into a human's eyes and tell them what you want them to do."

Stacie gasped and smiled at her beautiful new eyes.

"And, we can turn this little 'feature' on in every MILF Whore. Every mommy in Ithaca is going to be a mind controller." She leaned down and kissed Stacie. "Just think of all the possibilities."

Stacie giggled.

"Demona? I didn't know you were here!" Mary said as she walked into the kitchen. "Did I miss anything?"

***

Two Weeks Later

Danny Durham stood up in front of his packed congregation at Ithaca Baptist Church.

"Our world has turned to sin," Danny said from behind the pulpit.

It was Thursday night. He had made changes in the church in the last few weeks - holding services three nights a week was one of those changes.

"And, you say, Preacher Danny, of course it has! You look at the massive pits of fornication like Manhattan - and, even downtown Ithaca - and you say, the Devil is among us!"

The congregation murmured with 'amens'.

"But, I'll tell you this brothers and sisters, he's not just weaving a web of fornication and lust, no. He is right here in our homes weaving webs just as sinister. He is weaving webs from the other sins as well. Right here, in our beautiful homes? The sin of sloth."

They looked at him expectantly.

"How many of you here tonight have adult children living at home? Go on, raise your hands."

Half the congregation raised their hands sheepishly.

Danny nodded. "That's right. And, what do they do? They live in their rooms or your basement and play violent video games. They look at pornography on the internet. Sloth. It's a sin just as bad as fornication. And, I am here tonight to tell you we have a plan to end this in our community!"

More 'amens' and applause.

His congregation was energized, his church was alive.

And, he was a different man than he had been a few weeks ago.

Danny Durham was taller now and more muscular. He could feel the eyes of the women in the pews on him, and he loved it.

A few of them had come to know the other changes he had undergone - the thirteen inches of meat he now carried between his thighs.

Those women he had introduced to his new cock were smiling at him with adoration from the congregation. Those smiles were much more lascivious than pious.

He looked at his wife, Leslie, and winked.

But, she wasn't the target of his smile.

That target was Margaret Cox, the ravishing Church of Morpheus MILF who sat beside her, running her long red nail over his previously god-fearing wife's hand.

She smiled seductively.

His life as a con man had definitely taken a turn for the better when Margaret had taken an interest in his church.

Danny looked over the women in the pews - fully half of them now possessed the electric blue eyes of transformed MILF Whores. Margaret and Leslie had been busy befriending the ladies of the church.

And, then seducing, perverting, and finally transforming them.

In a few weeks, every mother in his congregation would be a servant of the Church of Morpheus.

***

Carrie Lester peddled her bike down the dark street by Ithaca park. Her parents had offered to buy her a car, but she preferred a bike. Better for the environment and not bad for her legs and butt, either.

She was nineteen and taking a gap year before heading to Manhattan and NYU. She had her black hair flying behind her in a ponytail as the wind whipped her. She was tall and trim, wearing a white Ithaca Volleyball t-shirt and black denim shorts.

On the other side of the park, she entered the parking lot for Ithaca Heights Elementary School.

The dark building was bathed only in streetlights.

Her friends were sitting on the hoods of their cars in front of the main entrance.

She slid to a stop beside her friend Tank's pickup.

He was stretched out on the top of the pickup's cab, his thick legs hanging off the edge by the driver's side window.

A halo of smoke rose above the joint he was smoking. "Grass?" He asked.

"Not yet," she said as she climbed onto Tank's hood beside Jeffrey.

"Hi, bitch," Jeffrey said. His skinny frame was reclining against the pickup's windshield. He was dressed in tight jeans and a black t-shirt. He had a fifth of Jack in his hand.

"Hi, slut," Carrie said as she reclined beside him on the warm hood. She held out her hand for the Jack.

He handed it to her.

"What are we drinking to?" Carrie asked as she brought the bottle to her lips.

"To the past," Jeffrey said in his exaggerated femme voice. He nodded toward the darkened elementary school where she and all her friends had met fourteen years ago.

Construction tape was strung along the outside and the windows were boarded up.

A large wooden sign by the front door announced: CONDEMNED.

Carrie sighed and took a drink of the decidedly unsmooth Jack Daniels. "It just doesn't make any fucking sense."

The car beside Tank's was a white Toyota, and her other two friends, Cheryl and Morris were lying close together.

Cheryl shook her head, long blonde hair flying. "No kids means no need for an elementary school."

The Ithaca suburbs were completely empty of children below the age of eighteen.

The city was tearing down the schools.

The Church's in Ithaca had started a campaign against the public schools, and an anonymous donor had offered millions to send every child to private school in Switzerland.

"How could you send your children off to school in Europe?" Carrie asked.

"God, I wish my parents had sent me off to school in Switzerland," Jeffrey said. "Tank? You going to bogart that whole joint?"

His big, meaty hand appeared between Jeffery and Carrie. "Knock yourself out."

Jeffrey took the sickly sweet smelling joint from Tank and drew hard, the tip flaring yellow red in the darkness.

He held the smoke in and waved the grass toward Carrie.

"No, thanks."

He leaned to the right and Cheryl took it from the hood of the Toyota.

The five of them were an unlikely clique, but it had served them well. Tank was the protector - he was the biggest kid in Ithaca from Kindergarten on, and nobody messed with them as long as Tank was there.

Jeffrey was the smart-ass, lobbing fast insults guaranteed to reduce an enemy to tears in any conflict.

Cheryl was the beauty, giving them street cred as being the clique with the blonde bombshell on the team.

Morris was the organizer, the planner - three times class president.

And, Carrie was the brain.

Together, they had braved the storms of childhood and the perils of puberty.

They were all taking a gap year, and, to be honest, Carrie knew it was because as soon as they left Ithaca, they would be on their own. Each of them would have to become adults and stand on their own two feet without the other four to lean on.

It was terrifying.

But, not as terrifying as the strange shit going on in their hometown.

Carrie stared at the darkened school. "Do any of you know people who have kids under eighteen?"

Her friends were silent.

What were the odds that not one of them had younger siblings?

What were the odds that not one of them even knew anyone with young children?

It was statistically impossible.

And yet...

"Lots of pregnant women in this town. I mean it's a breeder convention," Jeffrey said in his voice strained by the cheap weed.

That was true. There were no children, no babies, but the town was crowded with baby bumps.

"Yeah," Cheryl said. "I mean, with all these women pregnant? Doesn't it seem kind of short-sighted to tear down the schools?"

Morris laughed. "Maybe we should do our part to rebuild the population?" He stroked Cheryl's stomach below her half t-shirt, and she laughed.

"No. College first, kids after," Cheryl laughed. "Buy stock in Trojans."

Cheryl and Morris had been an item since sophomore year.

"I don't know about this gap year thing. I'm ready to go," Jeffrey said. "The parents are becoming impossible."

"Mine too," Carrie groaned. "They spend so much time at the church, and they come back weirder every time."

"Yeah?" Jeffrey said. "Try this on for size: my parents, who have always been devout agnostics went to Temple three nights this week."

"Blue eyes," Tank said from his place on the top of the truck cab.

They all turned and looked at him.

"What did you say?" Carrie asked.

"My mom has blue eyes. They used to be green."

Carrie's breath caught in her chest. "My... mom started wearing blue contact lenses too."

The others looked at her.

"Holy fuck," Jeffrey said as he looked at each of them.

"Yours too?" Carrie asked.

Morris and Cheryl both nodded.

Jeffrey cleared his throat. "There is nothing more disturbing than your very Jewish mother showing up at breakfast with freak ass blue eyes."

"Fuck," Carrie hissed. "What the fuck is going on?"

A patrol car pulled into the parking lot and hit its lights.

"Goddamn," Tank groaned. He flicked the joint into the bushes.

The cop pulled up beside the pickup and rolled down his window. "It's late, you kids should be at home."

Morris climbed off the hood. "Yes, sir. We were just going."

The cop nodded. "Is that Jack Daniels?"

Jeffrey rolled his eyes. "Yes, officer."

"Give it over." He held his arm out the window.

"I was just holding it for a friend," Jeffrey said as he passed it to the cop.

"Right. Listen, I'm not going to bust your balls. Just go home... the two of you who are driving, have you been drinking?"

"No, sir," Tank said as he climbed down from the cab.

"No, sir," Morris said.

"Good. Now, all of you get home. And, don't let me catch you out here again."

Jeffrey got in the truck with Tank and Cheryl got in Morris's Toyota.

Carrie jumped on her bike and smile at the cop as she sped past him.

"Prick," she said under her breath.

Her breath turned to mist as she pumped down the dark street.

Jeffrey was right, staying in Ithaca for a gap year had been a bad move.

Carrie had never gone through a 'rebellious' stage as a kid, never hated her parents or felt they didn't understand her.

But, over the past month or so, they had grown increasingly, well, bizarre.

She had never liked her parents' church - Reverend Danny Durham seemed like a sleezeball. He reminded Carrie of a more upscale Jim Jones.

And, though her parents were religious, they hadn't been religious fanatics.

Now, they seemed to be in church or at the houses of other church members constantly. They had even started nagging her to go with them.

She turned onto her street, hoping her parents' car would not be in the drive.

She was disappointed - the Mercedes station wagon was sitting in the drive.

Carrie rolled past it up to the garage door. She hopped off and keyed in the code on the keypad. The door rolled up and she pulled her bike inside.

Her parents were waiting in the kitchen.

"Hi, Honey," her mom said from her chair at the kitchen table. Jenny Lester was tall and blonde. Until a few days ago, her eyes were brown. Now, they were electric blue.

Carrie stopped in midstride.

Her suitcases were sitting in the middle of the kitchen.

"Why..."

"Sit down, sweetie, we need to talk," her dad, Don, said as he leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped his coffee.

"My bags?"

"Sit down, Carrie," Jenny said. "Now, don't freak out."

She looked into her mom's strange blue eyes.

"You're going to be moving over to stay with some friends of ours," Don said.

"What?! What are you talking about?"

Jenny took her hand. "There's a program the church's are starting. It's called the Fledgling Project..."

"What is that?"

"It's designed to help college aged kids become independent," Don said.

"You see, honey, you can't really mature staying here at home with us," Jenny said.

Carrie looked back and forth from her mom to her dad. "I... where am I supposed to go?"

Her mom smiled. "They're a very nice couple: Nathan and Christine McGee."

"From your church?" Carrie asked. This was a nightmare.

"No, they're Catholics."

Carrie burst out laughing. "This is a joke, right?"

Jenny shook her head. "Nope. Sorry."

"I don't understand. Mom, it's just a gap year. It's not like I'm going to be living in your basement till I'm thirty."

"Where were you tonight?" Jenny asked.

"Huh?"

"It's late. Where were you?"

"Just out with the gang."

Jenny nodded. "I smell pot and booze."

"I had like a swallow of Jack Daniels and I didn't even take a hit off the joint."

Jenny smiled. "This time. Next time, maybe you'll do something you regret. Maybe you'll end up pregnant."

"No! Mom! Come on! How is sending me to live with strangers going to help that?"

"We let you get away with too much," her dad said. "The McGees are going to find you a job and make sure you pull your weight. Give you a taste of what the real world is going to be like."

***

"Tighter," Christine McGee groaned. She was lying on her stomach on the spanking bench, her wrists and ankles strapped to the legs.

Nathan laughed. "Tighter what?" He stood naked behind her and pulled the strap around her right ankle tighter.

She grinned and bit her lip. "Tighter, Master."

"Better." He slapped her ass and Christine giggled.

They had converted a storage room off the main hallway into a bondage room. The lights were low inside. Nathan stood naked behind Christine.

Christine had needs after being transformed. One of those was bondage and discipline.

Nathan stroked her narrow lower back. "How's that?"

She tested the restraints. "Very nice, Master."

He slapped her backside with his open palm.

She moaned and wiggled.

He struck her again, this time letting his hand hit her bare, wet pussy along with her buttocks.

Christine gasped.

The world was different. Everything was different.

But, that didn't mean it was all bad.

They had always been sexual, but now there was a raw, animal passion within them both.

He leaned forward and pulled her head back by her long, dark hair. He put his long cock against the entrance to her now very red pussy.

Transformation had been good for Nathan as well. He was now Nathan McGee, Professional Caste, upper echelon. That came with perks: a hot, MILF Whore to enjoy for one thing.

A thirteen inch cock for another.

Christine moaned and laughed as he slid inside her.

"Excuse me?" A voice asked behind him.

He turned his head.

One of the bald Church of Morpheus agents stood inside the bondage room door.