Transformations - Rose Ch. 10

Asmodea walked up behind her. The nun smiled. "If you want to save the world quicker, work faster at subduing it. The sooner mankind is on its knees, the sooner we can save them."

Constance sighed and nodded.

Sugar Tits looked into the bedroom where Rhonda sat holding the still sleeping Stephanie. "What about her?"

Demona motioned Sugar and Constance to follow her. They walked into the kitchen.

Demona nodded. "So, the good news is, though she was thoroughly fucked by anything with the cash, she's physically fine - no STDs."

"But?" Sugar asked.

"Mentally and neurologically?" Demona shook her head. "That fucker Tyrell didn't spare the molly. I figure she must have been close to ODing several times over the last few days. There's damage - it'll be a few days before I can be sure how much. Not to mention the emotional trauma from someone selling her to that piece of shit in the first place."

Constance rolled her eyes. "Jesus, I'm sorry, okay? It was business."

Demona glared at her. "Yeah, okay, but from now on we're the monsters, got it? We don't turn our whores over to people worse than us."

"I won't. I promise."

"Speaking of monsters," Demona said. "What do you want me to do with ol' banana hammock in there?"

"Tyrell?" Sugar laughed. "What do you recommend?"

"Castration and lobotomizer are my preferences."

"No argument from me," Constance added. "Or, just let Rita do the neck twist thing."

Demona grinned. "Well deserved. Every one of those girls has contusions and old fractures - maybe they aren't all from Tyrell, but I'll bet a lot of them are."

Sugar pursed her lips. "I agree, he needs to be severely punished. But, I prefer to make an example of him."

***

Several hours later, the remnants of Tyrell's lieutenants sat facing each other at the kitchen table. They couldn't move, they couldn't speak, but at least they weren't in pain.

They couldn't see the activity in the hallway, but they could hear the whores moaning - that doctor or whatever she was was doing something to them. At first they thought it was cries of pain, but over time they realized the women were orgasming.

The two women in white latex came in and smiled.

The taller woman spoke. "You can move, but don't anger me. I can bring back the pain with a word."

The men slumped in their chairs, but sat motionless otherwise.

"My name is Sugar Tits..."

The men began to laugh.

Sugar smiled. "It's okay. I know how ridiculous it sounds. Piss yourselves."

The men gasped as they pissed down their own legs.

"Still think I'm funny? No?"

The other woman in white laughed. "Nice."

"Thank you," Sugar said. "Now, Tyrell is no longer your boss. I'm from the Church of Morpheus, and as of this moment, we control your prostitution business."

One of the men shook his head. "Look, Sugar Tits or whatever your name is, you got no idea what you've stepped in here. You think this is all of us? Lady, this is part of a much bigger operation. The big bosses are uptown, and whoring is just part of the pie."

"Oh, I know. But, you see, we don't give a fuck about the rest of the business. Sell your drugs, your protection racket - we don't care about that. But, if you run whores in New York, you go through us."

The man laughed. "Look, all due respect because I don't want you doing that voodoo shit on my head again, but uptown ain't going to roll over for you. They'll bring enough firepower to put you down..."

Sugar held up her hand. "You don't understand - how much does the mob make off prostitution?"

"In Manhattan? $50 million a year."

"This coming year, you'll make $75 million."

"What? How the fuck..."

"Simple, send in the girls, please," Sugar said.

The whores walked in, naked and giggling.

The men did double takes.

All of the girls were now tall and buxom with smooth skin and sparkling eyes. They all looked like they had just spent a year on the Riviera getting thousands of dollars worth of plastic surgery.

"Fuck me," the man said.

"Oh, they will. Repeatedly and happily," Sugar said. "We've taken your $10 whores and made them into high price call girls. You'll make a fortune off them - with the bonus being they never get old, never die, never touch drugs, never get sick, and never run away."

"Shit," the man whispered.

"So, go to your bosses and tell them our proposal."

The man nodded. "Yeah, okay. But, you know you got another problem - the Russians run more whores in Manhattan than we do. They ain't gonna like us expanding."

"Let me worry about the Russians. You just take these lovely ladies to your bosses, let them sample the goods and tell them we will happily convert all their hookers into perfect sex toys. Not only bimbo street whores like these pretty things - specialty whores: dominatrices, cheerleader whores, sexretaries, submissives, anything you can imagine we can create." She pulled one of the women out of the line: a tall black woman with huge tits and a red thong. "For instance, you recognize Tyrell?"

"Holy shit."

Sugar pulled Tyrell's thong down, revealing his cock to be little more than a nubbin of clit. His ball sack hung down empty and shriveled between his thighs. "This is what happens to anyone who defies the Church. Do so at your peril. But, you aren't bitter, are you, Tyrell?"

"No, mistress Sugar. I love it," Tyrell squeaked in a voice like cotton candy.

"Why don't you bend over and show us your cute pussy?"

Tyrell giggled and turned. He bent over and grabbed his ankles.

His ass was round and full, his pucker slightly gaped.

"Care to fuck your old boss?" Sugar asked the man who had been bold enough to speak. "He's been completely reprogrammed to be the perfect submissive bimbo. Just know that deep inside, the old Tyrell is screaming in horror."

The man rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Fuck. Well, why not." He stood up and took off his pants exposing a thick, ten inch cock. He jacked it as he walked around the table.

The other whores cooed and whispered as they stared at his hardening cock.

He rubbed the small of Tyrell's back. "Sorry about this, but you are too fine not to fuck now, Tyrell."

He rubbed the thick head of his dick up and down on Tyrell's asshole.

Then he shoved it in to the hilt.

Tyrell squealed in delight as his former lieutenant took him deep. Moments later he began to fuck back against the hard cock, taking it to the hilt.

Sugar turned to the other men. "There, see? We want to have a profitable relationship. This is an excellent start." She turned to leave, but then she turned back to them. "Oh, one other little thing: don't be cruel to your girls. Ever. If any of you cause your whores pain beyond a sore pussy or ass? We will burn you all. To ash. And, then we'll piss on what's left. Have a nice day."

***

Lisa leaned on the hood of Stan's car in tight, white jeans and a white halter top. Wearing all white was going to take a while to get used to - she had been a girl who liked dark colors. But, white witch's had a uniform look, and she wasn't about to make waves.

Besides, she remembered the beautiful latex outfits Sugar Tits and Constance wore - just the thought of that tight rubber made her wet! They had done a real number on her brain. She couldn't remember ever having a latex fetish before, but now her body actually ached to slide into white rubber.

Jason sat on the hood beside her. He had given up on shirts entirely, and Lisa wasn't complaining. His body was chiseled and inviting stuffed into his tight jeans.

She smiled at the wet spot midway down his left thigh. He was constantly leaking just like she was.

"I gotta say, I never thought he would be able to work it like that," Jason said with a laugh.

Stan, now Stella, was strutting along the street in front of the motel in her red mini dress and matching heels.

Lisa felt she may have miscalculated. Stella had been on display all morning, but there had been no takers. True, most whoring happened after dark, but Lisa realized the biggest problem was that Stella was so obviously a middle aged sissy in drag.

In nine hours, the sun would go down and Mama Jugs would wake Stan from his Stella slumber. Lisa would remain true to her word, even though there was nothing forcing her to do so. If he made it till dark, he would be free.

"Holy fuck," Jason said.

Lisa looked toward the motel.

Belynda had gone to her small trailer behind the motel to gather her things, and now she was coming back.

Holy fuck, indeed. Lisa smiled.

The long, dark woman was wearing a pair of black stiletto boots, painted on black jeans that showed off some extreme camel toe. She wore a half t-shirt that exposed the revolver tattoos that disappeared under her waistband and 'Las Amazonas' tattooed just under her navel.

She was wearing bright red lipstick and she had painted her nails shiny black.

Her earrings were four inch hoops.

She smiled at their reactions and wiggled a little as she walked. When she got to them, she turned in a slow circle. "What do you think? See, I clean up nice."

"You are stunning," Lisa said. "Isn't she, Mary?"

Mary was sitting behind the wheel. She glanced up and nodded, still pissed about Stan.

Jason held out his arms and Belynda ran to him. He pulled her close and let his hands wander down to her tight ass.

She mumbled into his neck in Spanish.

Jason laughed. "Babe, we don't have a clue what you're saying."

She kissed his neck. "I will teach you both. I said, 'I need you to fuck my pussy and ass till I pass out.'"

Lisa laughed. "Mmm, that can be arranged."

Belynda broke free of Jason's embrace and wrapped her arms around Lisa. They melted into a deep, slow kiss.

"Wow," Jason said as he watched. "Did I mention I love my life now?"

Lisa and Belynda laughed.

Belynda leaned against the car between them. "Are we going to this farm now?"

Lisa frowned. "I so wanted to see Stella lose her cherry. But, nobody seems to be trolling for trannies."

"Bigots," Belynda grumbled. "I mean look at her. She's fucking hot. I'd do her."

"I know, babe, but you don't have a cock," Lisa said.

Lisa and Belynda both looked at Jason.

He shook his head. "Fuck no. I told you, number one, he's my dad. Second, I don't like dudes."

"You fucked your mother," Lisa said.

"That was different. She's hot, aren't you, Mom?" Jason said.

"Please... don't talk like that. I can't take much more," Mary whispered. She got out of the car and walked toward the back of the motel.

"Fuck," Belynda said. "What's up her cooch?"

"Regrets," Lisa said. She might not get Mary back, and she would have to come to terms with that. She could go in and make the woman a raving, son fucking whore if she wanted, but she was determined to not make any more changes than she had to.

"Hey! Wait a second," Belynda said. "What time is it?"

"Uh, quarter past eleven," Jason said.

Belynda giggled. "Almost time for afternoon delight."

"Huh?" Lisa asked.

"Hey, Mama! It's almost noon..."

Mama Jugs was sitting in a lounge chair across the parking lot at the motel office. She looked confused for a minute. And, then she smiled. "Well, fuck me. It is!"

Belynda giggled more. "At noon once a week, this muy macho stud comes here and rents a room. A few minutes later, this blonde bitch in a Mercedes pulls in and they fuck like maniacs until almost three."

"How 'muy macho' is this stud?" Lisa asked with a conspiratorial grin.

"He looks like a linebacker, got a lot of bulge in his jeans, yeah?" Belynda laughed. "I haven't seen him naked, but I hear that bitch screaming half the afternoon. 'Ooo, it's so big' 'Oh, you're five times bigger than my husband' 'Fucking Christ I can feel you in my chest' - that kind of stuff."

"And, you're sure he'll be here?"

"Never fails. Every week at the same time. You do that voodoo stuff on him?"

Lisa smiled and looked out at Stella. She promised to release Stan if he didn't suck to completion and get fucked.

But, she never said she was going to make it easy.

***

In Manhattan, Alexei Polov had just sat down for lunch. He was a big man with big appetites. Which is why he was eating a massive rib eye cooked rare while an eighteen year old knelt under the table sucking his cock.

It was good to be king, and he was at least king of the pimps in New York City.

He reached under the table and stroked the blonde's hair. "Darling, slow down. Careful of teeth. Do not bite Alexei. Okay? You are doing wonderfully. Man likes when woman takes time, yes?"

She moaned with a mouthful of cock and slowed her pace.

"There yes. Is good now. Good whore. Make Alexei very happy." He smiled and took another bite of steak.

There was a commotion outside his office. The house was huge, but not so huge that he couldn't hear men cursing and struggling.

He stopped in mid-chew. He had two men guarding the door.

"Go. Look," Alexei said and then repeated himself in Russian.

The two men pulled their guns and left the room, shutting the door behind them.

The girl stopped sucking. "Alexei, is everything okay?"

"Da, is okay, pretty one. Suck more, yes," he said. She smiled up at him. When she took him in her mouth again, he drew a silver plated forty-five pistol from his shoulder holster and laid it beside his plate. He draped his white linen napkin over it.

He poured himself more red wine.

The door opened and his guards returned.

However, they were now holding their guns to their own temples.

"What the fuck?" Alexei asked.

A tall woman in white latex walked in behind them. "You must be Alexei."

"Why are my men holding guns to their own heads?"

"Because I told them to," the redhead said.

Despite the oddness of the situation, Alexei was mesmerized by her huge breasts and sparkling eyes. He smiled. "White witch. Church of Morpheus devil witch whore."

"Yes, my name is Sugar Tits."

"Most appropriate name," Alexei said.

"Thank you."

"Are you here to kill Alexei, Sugar Tits?" he asked.

"Not if I can avoid it," Sugar said. She sat down in an overstuffed chair in front of the desk. "Tell me, Alexei, is there a woman under your desk sucking your cock?"

Alexei laughed. "Da. Her name is Regina. Much potential. I will be very unhappy to ask her to stop."

"Oh, please, no! Let her continue," Sugar said. "Tell me, how do you know what a White Witch is?"

Alexei shrugged. "I am Russian mob. Russian mob today was KGB yesterday. We know things."

"Ah, I see," Sugar said. She crossed her legs and smiled when Alexei looked directly up her skirt. "Then you know what I can do?"

"Da. You can make my men shoot themselves, give Alexei aneurysm or make Alexei bark like dog. I have read reports. Shall I bark?"

Sugar laughed. "Oh, I like you, Alexei. It takes a man with balls to lean back and enjoy a blowjob when he is so close to destruction. Tell me: will you promise not to shoot anyone with that pistol you have under the napkin until you hear what I have to say?"

Alexei laughed and slapped the table. "You read Alexei's mind? Amazing! Then you know Alexei would very much like to oil up your big titties and fuck them?"

"Yes, I caught that fantasy when I was scanning you," Sugar said. She leaned forward showing him her deep cleavage.

Alexei groaned. "Da. You are beautiful. Dear lady, I am your devoted slave." He pulled the napkin off the pistol. Alexei picked it up, ejected the magazine and worked the slide, ejecting the bullet in the chamber. "Please, if you don't mind, tell my men to put away guns. I do not want their brains on my walls by accident."

"Of course." Sugar waved her hand.

The guards sighed in relief and put their guns away.

"The rest of you can come in now," Sugar said.

Alexei recognized Constance Burns, the dentist who supplied him with girls. She was followed by a huge man and a thin woman who looked to be made out of plastic. Behind them was a tall, buxom black woman wearing a tight blue dress and hooker heels.

Alexei's breath caught in his chest when he saw the last person to enter. Tall and skinny with dark hair and wearing a rubber nun outfit.

He groaned and sent a torrent of cum down Regina's throat.

She swallowed and kissed his prick clean.

"Oh, my," Sugar said. "She must be a very skilled cocksucker."

"Da... she is... but... Alexei was... distracted... usually last longer. Won't you introduce your friends."

"Well, Constance you know. Behind her is Ray. He's a whoremaster."

Alexei laughed. "Ahh, yes. Huge cock. I have read reports on whoremasters."

"Beside him is our bimbot, Rita. Her brain was transferred into a robot body."

"Amazing," Alexei said. But he never took his eyes off the nun.

"And, Sister Asmodea of the Church of Morpheus."

Alexei stood up, his long thick cock sliding out of Regina's mouth.

He walked around his desk, dick swinging.

He reached out and took Asmodea's hand. "Dear sister, welcome to my home."

Asmodea stared at the bear paw hand holding hers.

Alexei leaned down and kissed her fingers.

"Might want to... gather yourself," Asmodea mumbled.

"Oh... oh! Very sorry. Forgive me," he said as he hurriedly stuffed his dick into his pants and zipped up.

Sugar smiled and shook her head. "And, finally, I think you remember your rival, Tyrell?"

Alexei did a double take. "No, this cannot be..." He grabbed the woman in the blue dress by her left breast. "No, this is woman..."

"Check her yourself, Alexei," Sugar said.

"Spread legs, bitch," Alexei growled. He ripped her skirt up, exposing her thick clit and the hanging, empty sack. "Fuck!" He grabbed the clit between his thumb and index finger, squeezed and twisted.

"Ooo, baby, yeah! Hurt me. I want you to hurt me," Tyrell cooed in a smoky voice.

"No fucking way," Alexei whispered.

"We have no use for Mr. Tyrell. Miss Tyrell on the other hand has numerous uses," Sugar laughed.

Alexei spun Tyrell around and bent her at the waist. He ripped the skirt and exposed her anus.

Tyrell giggled and grabbed her ankles.

Alexei pushed two fingers deep inside the shemale. "Why did you do this to him? Not that I give two fucks, but..."

"Mr. Tyrell angered us with his treatment of his stock. We don't like people who are cruel. I have it on good authority that, though you are a hard man, you are not a cruel man. Is that true, Alexei?"

Alexei pulled his fingers out of Tyrell's ass, spun her around and shoved her to her knees. He pushed his fingers into her mouth and she cleaned them. "I am cruel enough. But, no. I do not hate my girls as this motherfucker does... or did."

"Good. Then we can do business," Sugar said.

Alexei left Tyrell kneeling on the floor and walked back to his desk.

Regina climbed out from under the desk. She was naked. She stood behind Alexei's chair with her hands behind her back, feet spread, eyes downward.

Alexei reached back and stroked her hip. "She came willingly, you know? Naturally submissive."

"Yes, I can see," Sugar said.

"What is business you propose?"

"A partnership. We will convert your girls into bimbos. With supermodel looks, they'll pull in ten times what they pull in now."

"And, what does the Church get from this?"

"We control the whores. We supply them. You don't hurt them... ever."

"I do not hurt women. How much cut do you want?"

"None."

Alexei stared at her. "What?"

Sugar laughed. "Alexei, we don't want any of the money - believe me, we have more money than you can imagine. We control the whores, that's all."

"What? You are building bimbo army or something?"

"Something like that," Sugar said. She leaned over the desk and held out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"