Transformations - Return to Sinful Suburbia Ch. 04

Comments welcome.

—————————————

It was strange to see Christine carry Jeffrey from her car and into Betty Cavendish's house.

Jeffrey was thin but very tall, and now of course he had those flared hips and big boobs.

Yet Christine carried him like he was a doll up the driveway and through the front door.

Stranger still, she passed him without so much as a groan into Betty's waiting arms.

"Thank you, oh, thank you," Betty sobbed as she raced up the stairs, showing no more effort than Christine with her burden.

Christine turned to Carrie and smiled. "I'll need to help her for a few minutes. She opened her purse and pulled out a pair of white goggles with attached earphones. "You can wait in the living room. Put these on - there's a sort of orientation video. It explains everything a lot faster than I can."

Carrie stared at the goggles. "Are those going to hypnotize me?"

Christine laughed. "No, I told you: no more hypnosis. It just tells you what you need to know. You can ask the woman on the video questions, and she'll answer them. No tricks, no lies. Just the truth. I think you can handle that now."

Carrie took the goggles.

Christine touched Carrie's cheek. "There are wonders. You'll see." She turned and went up the stairs.

Carrie stared at the goggles and walked into the living room.

She almost screamed when she saw David Cavendish standing in the middle of the room.

She remembered Mr. Cavendish, Betty's husband, from church.

He had changed.

David Cavendish had seemed tall and imposing when she had seen him in church.

He was tall, but no longer imposing.

David Cavendish was dressed in a black latex bodysuit from his neck down to his toes. It looked slick as if it was coated in some sort of lubricant.

His head was shaved, even his eyebrows were gone, and his skin looked pale in contrast to the inky black outfit.

He stared at the floor.

The crotch of the suit was open, and his small cock was trapped in a gleaming silver chastity.

"Mistress, I am David Scum di Cavendish. I was abusive to my goddess, and now I serve. I am Sub Slut class, Whore Caste. How may I serve you, Mistress?" His words were oddly slurred.

Carrie stared in shock. "I... I don't need anything."

"I have been modified for your pleasure," he said, eyes still on the floor.

He opened his mouth.

Carrie took an involuntary step back.

David Cavendish's glistening tongue slid out of his mouth. The pink flesh was easily a foot long, covered in bumps and protrusions like a dildo. It moved sinuously, like a snake, curling side to side and then up and down. The tongue throbbed and pulsed, vibrating and twisting.

"N... No... thank you."

The tongue slid slowly back into his mouth and he closed his pale lips. "As you wish, Mistress."

"You can... go," she said. Feeling ridiculous dismissing the man in his own house.

"Yes, Mistress." He bowed and walked out of the room.

Carrie watched him leave.

Then she sat down on the overstuffed couch.

How could they do that to someone? Carrie thought. Had he consented to being made into a rubber suited freak? Somehow she doubted it.

She stared at the goggles, unsure if she wanted to put them on - not that she was afraid of the video, no, she was suddenly terrified that Mr. Cavendish would come back in the room while her eyes were covered.

But, her curiosity won out.

She put the goggles over her eyes and fit the earphones over her ears.

***

It was disorienting as the Cavendish living room disappeared.

A spinning pink and blue SlutzNet logo spun against a black background. It was three-dimensional, and she felt like she could reach out and touch it.

White noise hissed in her ears as the screen went black.

Slowly, the light returned.

She was sitting on a couch in a brightly lit, airy living room. Outside, ocean waves crashed on a perfect beach.

That much made sense - it was an artificial reality projected into her eyes and broadcast to her ears.

What didn't make sense was that she could smell the ocean. She could feel the warm beach breeze blowing through the open windows.

"There are subcarriers, both audio and video. The impulses are jumping across your synapses, stimulating olfactory nerves and your sense of touch," a woman's voice said.

Carrie turned her head to the right.

A woman was sitting in a chair across from the couch. She was beautiful, with kind brown eyes and long brown hair. The woman wore a dress that appeared to be made out of white gauze, and her naked body was clearly visible through the flimsy fabric.

Around her neck was a white choker with an inverted pentagram medallion hanging from it.

"My name is Cum Slut Cathy."

Carrie almost laughed.

"I know. Silly. Lots of us, especially the first of us, have silly names. Officially, my name is Cathy Greene di Hecate. Designation Perverter - also known as a White Witch. Whore Caste. I'm the second White Witch they made after Maria Marapova."

"I don't know what any of that means," Carrie whispered.

"No, but you'll have answers soon."

"Where am I?"

"This is my Mistress Hecate's house in Havana."

Carrie wrinkled her brow. "Are you real?"

Cathy laughed. "Sort of. Cathy is real, and, I'm a complete copy of Cathy's mind housed in a part of the SlutzNet AI - talking to me is just like talking to the real Cathy. In the beginning, we tried to let SlutzNet handle orientation all on his own but, well, he's a bit cold. People reacted better when they talked to me." She reached out and took Carrie's hand. "You can ask me anything, Carrie. I'll only tell you the truth."

Carrie stared at Cathy's hand in hers. It was so real! Her skin was soft and warm, her grip firm but comfortable.

"Mr. Cavendish? Why did you people do that to him?" Carrie asked.

Cathy paused for a moment. "Sometimes things aren't as they seem. Did you like Mr. Cavendish?"

"Yeah, he seemed nice..."

"There's that word. Seemed. Mr. Cavendish used to hurt his wife. He broke her wrist twice, her nose once. He was abusive, though she did everything she could to hide it from everyone around her - but, you can't keep secrets from us, Carrie. We can read minds."

"So, that's why you turned him into a... sub slut?"

Cathy shook her head. "No. We're rarely that kind. Normally, a man like him would have been treated much more harshly. Strangely enough, Betty Cavendish begged us to turn him into what he is. She saved him. Love is... complicated." She looked away and there was more than a little pain in her eyes. "We don't choose who we love."

"How did you get involved in this?" Carrie asked.

Cathy smiled. "I used to live in a place called Latigo Key - it's in Florida. Have you heard of it?"

Carrie thought for a moment. "Yeah. In school, we studied it. Everyone on the island disappeared overnight. They called it the second Roanoke colony. But, that was twenty years ago. You must have been a kid."

Cathy laughed. "I haven't aged in twenty years. As a matter of fact, I was in my late thirties then. How old do I look now?"

"I don't know. Twenty-five?"

"We're immortal, Carrie. You're going to be immortal as well. All of your friends, too. You'll be with them forever. No one is ever going to grow old or get sick or die."

"Even slaves like Mr. Cavendish?"

Cathy frowned. "Yes."

"That's cruel."

"Yes." Cathy squeezed her hand. "No system is perfect..."

"Slavery isn't right."

"Neither is abuse."

"Yeah, but I have a feeling we're all going to be slaves, aren't we? Even if we've never hurt anyone."

"We will all serve, yes."

"What if I say no?"

"You can't." Cathy sighed. "Carrie, you have a choice of what you want to be in the New World Order, but understand: the new order is coming. There are millions of us, thousands more everyday, all over the world. Governments can't stop us, armies can't stop us, religions can't stop us. There is no defense against us. But, you can choose your place within what's coming."

"And, if I don't choose?"

"Then the choice will be made for you. Right now, that would most likely be Professional Caste - you would serve in a professional capacity."

"Do I get to choose the profession?"

"Perhaps. It depends on what is needed. But, if a career can't be found? They'll put you in Whore Caste. Most likely as a Street Whore like your friend Cheryl."

Carrie swallowed thinking about Cheryl with her huge breasts and Barbie doll body. "Anybody could... use me?"

"Yes. We serve, Carrie."

"How long do I have to decide?"

"A few days, a week at the outside. Religious Caste will force the issue after that, and there won't be anything we can do."

"I... don't understand everything."

"No," Cathy said with a smile. "But, I'm about to show you. Those subcarriers? They can explain everything to you in seconds. Sort of like downloading something into your brain. Are you ready?"

"Are you going to hypnotize me?!"

"Absolutely not. It's just knowledge, nothing more."

Carrie nodded slowly.

Cathy smiled.

Words and images poured into Carrie's mind.

***

In Manhattan, Brittney lay curled against Maria in their bed. She was naked except for her lensless black plastic glasses.

Maria had her arm around the smaller Street Whore.

Brittney chewed on her pink sucker as she watched a cartoon on the flat screen television mounted on the far wall.

Maria looked up from her tablet and rolled her eyes. "Why must you watch this?"

Brittney took the sucker out of her mouth. "I identify with it."

"Pinocchio was a ridiculous movie when I saw it in the 1950s, it is ridiculous now. How can you identify with a wooden puppet?"

"I don't identify with the puppet. I identify with the cricket," Brittney said and returned to chewing on the candy.

Maria shook her head. "You identify with Jiminy Cricket?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He's Pinocchio's conscience. Everybody needs a Jiminy Cricket in their life."

Maria laughed. "Wait, are you saying you're my Jiminy Cricket?"

"Yes," Brittney said without looking away from the TV.

"And, I'm Pinocchio?"

"Yes."

Maria shook her head. "Okay, how am I Pinocchio?"

"You want to be a real person, but you don't know how. You're selfish, and your nose doesn't grow when you lie, but you lie all the time. If there was ever a person on this earth who needed a Jiminy Cricket? It's you. That's my job. I'm your cricket."

Maria stared at her in shock as Brittney watched the cartoon.

"Don't be mad," Brittney said.

Maria scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not mad. Half the words that escape your pretty lips are gibberish. Just... you can say those things when we're alone, but not when someone can hear you. It sends the wrong message about our relationship."

Brittney snuggled deeper into her arm. "Yes, Mistress."

Maria watched her for a long time, wondering if she was still Bubble Brain Brittney, or if somehow the genius of Britt Connors was regaining control?

***

Carrie must have fallen asleep. The next thing she knew after getting the brain dump, Christine was easing the goggles off her face.

She blinked in the bright living room lights. "I... did I fall asleep?"

Christine stroked her hair. "You were exhausted."

Carrie looked down and realized her legs were spread wide, the latex panties visible. She closed her thighs.

Christine laughed. "Don't be modest on my account."

Carrie laughed as well. "This is going to take some getting used to."

"You'll adapt."

"How's Jeffrey?"

"Sleeping in bed with Betty - my guess is she won't let him out of her sight till the morning. Has he ever slept with a woman?"

Carrie looked shocked. "No, he's gay."

Christine shook her head. "He's going to have to be flexible on that."

"I don't get it - everybody has to be bi except the straight men?"

Christine shrugged. "Morpheus gets to choose. We just obey."

"He sounds like a dick."

"Probably. Never met him. Only one I know who met him in person is Maria Marapova, and she doesn't talk much about him."

"She's one of the White Witches?"

"Yes."

Carrie nodded. "Cum Slut Cathy mentioned her."

Christine stroked her cheek. "How's the brain feel?"

"Full." She felt like an entire library had been installed in her mind. Carrie now had full understanding of the methods for transforming humans. And, she felt a complete distance from normals - a detachment bordering on callousness.

Christine smiled knowingly. "Come on, let's get you home."

***

Betty Cavendish lay naked on the bed beside Jeffrey and stroked his big Futa cock gently.

Her husband's face was between her thighs, the 'dyke tamer' tongue snaking in and out of her tight pussy.

Jeffrey thrashed and moaned on his back, the video goggles over his eyes, receiving his orientation from Cum Slut Cathy and SlutzNet.

Making her husband her personal slave had been a mercy in a way. She had almost allowed Sugar Tits and Dr. Demona to make David into Worker Caste - a de-sexed laborer who would be shipped to the sugar cane fields in Cuba.

His tongue snaked deeper inside her and she moaned.

He deserved to be transformed into Worker Caste. She had spent many years covering bruises with makeup.

But, somehow making him a submissive was more fitting.

Jeffrey came, his cum jetting up from his thick cock with each pump of Betty's practiced hand.

***

Carrie took the steps two at a time. She had decided to throw any pretense of self-control out the window.

It wasn't the Transformed way, after all.

She was going to her room, she was going to strip, and she was going straight to Mark's room.

Smiling, she opened her bedroom door.

Mark was in her bed, smiling.

Carrie laughed as he threw back the sheet, showing that he was already naked.

She tore off her skirt and blouse, but Mark grabbed her and pulled her on top of him before she could take off the latex bra and panties.

Carrie started to kick off her heels.

"No, leave them on," Mark laughed.

She fell giggling on top of him.

He kissed her and then tapped her nose with his index finger. "Hey, don't lie to me anymore, okay?"

She nodded thinking about the ruse she had used to go meet Jeffrey. "I'm sorry."

"We're a team, okay?"

"I know. From now on. I promise." She raised up and pulled the tight rubber bra off, freeing her big breasts.

Milk poured onto Mark's chest.

"Oh, fuck!" Carrie gasped. "My ambrosia came in. Guess I'm going to need those nipple clamps."

Mark didn't say a word, he just drew her thick left nipple into his mouth and sucked.

Carrie moaned, feeling milk drawn from her breast for the first time. Her nipple felt connected by a line of electricity to her clit. "Fuck!"

Mark laughed as he drank down her ambrosia.

Carrie reached back to slide down the panties, but Mark was ahead of her - his fingers grasped her panty crotch and yanked it to the side.

Carrie maneuvered her hips, felt the tip of his hard cock... and then he surged inside her.

They both cried out as he sank balls deep inside her.

Mark switched to the right breast and nursed as he began fucking her slowly.

She rotated her hips, riding his cock.

***

In their bedroom, Nathan fucked Christine standing behind her.

Christine moaned and laughed as they watched Mark and Carrie on the closed circuit television. "Mission accomplished," Christine whispered.

***

Carrie felt her orgasm building as Mark found the expanded ring that had once been her cervix. His cock was the perfect length to press against and through it, and her tummy convulsed with each thrust.

Mark smiled up at her, his hands massaging her still lactating breasts.

Carrie had always loved sex, but their bodies were now made for it.

Sex before now seemed like something filmed in black and white.

Carrie and Mark's world was now in vivid color.

She screamed when she came, muscles moving inside her where muscles should not be. She was squirting and lactating at the same time.

Mark rose off the bed, his cum spurting into her, his hands holding her waist, forcing her to stay in place.

She collapsed on him, exhausted, body still clenching and pulsing in delicious waves. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you," he answered.

***

The next morning, Carrie and Mark showered together.

It turned into sex, of course. The big shower was made for sex.

Mark pressed her against the tile wall of the shower and lifted her long right leg, balancing it on his shoulder.

Then he had pressed himself against her and pushed his cock deep inside her.

When they finally got out of the shower, Carrie's clothes were gone.

In their place was a red latex skirt that wouldn't go quite to mid-thigh. Matching red stiletto thigh boots, and a red latex halter top.

The halter's neck was a silver inverted pentagram brooch.

Two red plastic inverted pentagram nipple clamps lay beside the outfit on the padded bathroom bench.

"Wow," Mark said.

Mark's clothes were what he had brought in: a white t-shirt and faded jeans.

"So, I'm supposed to dress like a fetish slut, and you get to dress normal?" Carrie asked.

"Yes, thank Morpheus," Mark laughed.

She shoved him. "You're such a dude."

***

They went downstairs.

Carrie was a little apprehensive about walking in the stiletto boots, but she had to remind herself they were really no higher than the heels she wore yesterday.

She was actually more disturbed by the fact the skirt barely covered her upper thighs and she wasn't wearing panties.

Christine smiled up at them as they came downstairs.

"Did you switch my clothes?" Carrie asked.

Christine laughed. "Yes."

"Not exactly proper for working at the Catholic Church - even if we are doing kinky shit in the office," Carrie said.

"Oh, you're not going to work today," Christine said as she led the way into the kitchen.

Nathan was standing there drinking coffee.

But, there was also a goddess in the room.

Carrie and Mark both stopped and stared.

The woman was tall and buxom, dressed in a long, white latex dress that accentuated her big breasts. Her green eyes sparkled under her thick red hair.

"White Witch," Carrie whispered. She was literally the most beautiful woman Carrie had ever seen.

"Carrie, Mark? This is Mistress Sugar Tits. She's a Perverter - White Witch is not the preferred term," Christine said.

She held out her hands and held both Mark's and Carrie's.

She smiled at Mark. "Fully transformed, I see?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She winked at Mark. "Just call me Sugar."

She turned and smiled at Carrie. "But, this one... not fully transformed yet."

Carrie gasped, feeling her head tingle.

She's going to hypnotize me! Carrie thought.

Words formed in her head. No, I only want to show you what a White Witch can do.

It was as if Sugar had spoken out loud, but her lips never moved and only Carrie could hear.

Telepathy. You can talk back if you like.

This is amazing, Carrie thought.

Oh, you haven't seen anything yet.

Images and sounds rushed into Carrie's head. Sugar Tits at a place called Stallion's, in her harem with Ray. He was a Whoremaster and she could feel his big cock deep inside Sugar.

Only, it wasn't Sugar. Carrie could feel it.

She almost fell, but Sugar released her and Mark's hands and instead grabbed her waist and steadied her. "I've got you."

More images. Dr. Demona, Sister Asmodea.

Sugar suddenly frowned.

The White Room. All the White Witches, together: Maria, Lisa, Gwen, Michaela, Constance, Cathy, and Sugar Tits. War. They were talking about war with the...