Transformations - Were-Bimbo Ch. 01

Transformations: Curse of the Were-Bimbo

Chapter 1

Comments welcome!

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Oh, yes, there is a devil,

Of that there is no doubt,

But is it trying to get in us,

Or is it trying to get out?

Irish Proverb

"Why do birds, Suddenly appear? Everytime you are near," Amy Bellachik sang along with Karen Carpenter on the little radio in the bathroom. It was white and perfectly matched the bright white decor of the room.

Clean, white, and bright. That's the way Amy liked things. Especially now.

She was a new bride, not even a month after she stood in front of the priest and said I do to Chad.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Amy was thin and petite, maybe too thin, but Chad never complained. She was wearing her new underwear, white cotton with a beautiful red pattern. He was going to love seeing her in it.

Her breasts were too big for her lithe, petite body. She liked to wear bras that supported her and held her 'assets' flat. The bra was constricting but pretty and not too sexy.

Everything had to be perfect. Rose petals on the floor, candles, a warm bubble bath.

They were going to do it. And, this time she would do that thing where her body went all stiff.

Cum, a voice said in her head.

She stopped and swallowed. She put the voice out of her thoughts. Instead she pushed her thick plastic glasses up on her freckled nose.

She would... climax with him inside her. And, he would...

Cum... cum like a goddamned clydesdale in your fucking whore cunt, the voice whispered with a giggle.

She grasped the edge of the vanity so hard her fingers ached. "Stop. Stop. Stop..." She hummed to herself and then sang, "Just like me, they long to be, Close to you..."

...they long to be, fucked by your big cock! the voice whispered.

"Stop it!" Amy cried and slapped her hands over her ears. Why wouldn't it stop? Was she going insane? It had happened during the honeymoon...

"No, no, no, no, no!" She whimpered in the empty bathroom. "Nothing happened. Nothing happened."

Whore. You're a whore, the voice whispered. And, you fucking loved it, you loved it in your mouth, in your cunt, up your ass. One guy, two guys, more... and girls? Licking and sucking like a lesbian porn star...

"That didn't happen," Amy sobbed. "You're lying. I wouldn't do... those things. They're horrible. Why are you doing this to me?"

Fucking, cold cunted, prude, the voice hissed.

A baby. She needed to get pregnant. If she and Chad had a baby, the voice would stop. Everything would be about the baby and not about... those other things. That's why everything had to be perfect tonight.

She stared into the mirror and the face in the mirror stared back.

Was it different? The eyes seemed... colder. The eyebrows were more arched and sinister. The lips seemed cruel and as she watched, her frown was reflected back to her as a sideways smile.

Amy screamed and dropped to the floor, her back to the mirror. "Leave me alone. Please. Please, leave me alone!"

Laughter echoed in her head. What are you hoping to do here with all this romantic bullshit? You don't want a baby. You wanna FUCK!

Amy froze. "I... it's not bullshit... I don't want what you want!"

You think Chad wants you in those cotton panties and bra? He wants a hot slut to fuck, not Holly Hobby in dime store lingerie.

Amy crawled toward the bedroom. She had told her mother that her nerves had been bothering her since the wedding night. She had given her some of her Valium. It was in the nightstand drawer.

Laughter again. Gonna take more than some happy drugs to exorcise me, you stupid cock sleeve. But, go ahead and knock yourself out. Maybe I can take control while you sleep and give Chad a real workout...

"Stop it! He doesn't want you," Amy said as she crawled on the floor.

Yes, he does. The way he looked at us in that alley, when we took it up the ass from that old john? Remember how big a lump he had in those pants watching that old guy butt fuck us?

"No! That didn't happen!"

Better yet, you take a little nappy and I'll call Eddie. He knows how to use a fucking whore like us. He'll take care of your frigid little pussy.

Amy stopped crawling. Eddie? Something in her memory... "No! No! None of that is real! Just a bad dream, just a bad dream!"

Laughter. Sure, honey, just a dream. A big old wet dream where you were a cocksucking, muff diving, ass fucking super slut. Goddamn, we were hot. And, we're going to be again.

Amy scrambled on her hands and knees toward the bedroom.

Stop.

Amy froze.

The voice became sweet. Amy? I'm not the enemy. I'm not a demon from hell sent to torment you.

"Yes. You are. Oh, God, I need a priest. Our Father, who art in heaven..." Her voice faltered as the strange voice in her head tittered with laughter.

Go on. Say the rest. What's stopping you?

"I... I can't..."

The voice shrieked with glee. You can't remember. Poor little Catholic girl can't remember the Lord's Prayer. You know why? You don't believe anymore, you stupid slut.

"Stop. Stop."

Shh, Amy. Listen to me. I want to help you. Go to the bedroom and put on that little black g-string and lace bra - the one you got at the shower. I'll teach you to dance for Chad. He'll fuck you sooo hard, Amy. Just give him a taste of me mixed with you.

"No. He wants me."

Why would he? No makeup, no heels anymore, you're wearing the glasses you put away in eighth grade instead of your contacts. You cut your long auburn hair. You have nice tits, but you put on that fucking mummy wrapping bra. You're frigid, Amy.

Amy sobbed and cried. "No. I just don't want to... be like you!"

You are me, stupid.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not! I'm not! You're not real."

That's not what all those guys said when they were shooting their wads in us. She giggled hysterically.

"You're foul. You're not me. You can't be."

Amy, pull down your panties. Come on.

"No!"

Pull them down, Amy. You have a great ass. Pull those granny panties down.

Amy whined. Then she hooked her fingers in the waistband. She pushed them over her hips and down her thighs.

That's right. Squeeze that ass, baby. It gets guys so hard when they look at your ass, Amy. Our ass.

Amy brushed her fingers over her backside, felt the firm, round globes.

Pull them apart, Amy. Come on. Open your ass cheeks wide.

Amy bit her lower lip. She slowly began to spread herself open.

It feels nice to expose your little asshole, doesn't it?

"Umm... I don't know..." She was getting so confused.

Boys like a girl's ass to fuck, Amy. It shows she is all about their pleasure, giving them a tight hole to fuck. Remember that old fucker in the alley? Remember how his cock was so thick? Thicker than Chad's or Eddie's? It felt like he was pushing a fireplug up our ass...

"No! I don't remember! She said I wouldn't remember!" Amy sobbed.

There it is! You do remember. She lied Amy. She said you wouldn't remember, but you do. She said I only got to come out four days a month, but here I am ready to take control of your hot little slut body.

"No! Please stop!" Amy was sobbing. Tear fell on the bathroom tile.

Touch your asshole with your finger, Amy.

"No. It's not right. That's dirty. Don't make me." Her voice was small and weak. Fitting, Amy thought. She was too weak to fight.

The voice giggled. Of course, it's dirty, Amy. That's why it's fun. Just touch it. A little caress, that's all.

Amy tentatively caressed her little pucker with her middle fingertip. "Oh!"

See? Feels good, doesn't it?

"A... little... I guess."

Push the tip in. Teach it to open, Amy. Go on. Train it. You're out of practice. We need it nice and loose for all our johns.

"Unnh." She pressed in with her finger and felt it began to open.

Mmm, yeah, just like that. Remember how that old guy fucking throbbed when he came? Remember how we wished he wasn't wearing that condom? So we could feel it? All that sweet cream flowing into us?

Amy smiled a little. "Y... Yeah... I wanted it." She pressed deeper, feeling her sphincter.

In and out, baby. Train that fuck hole. See? You are just like me, baby. Let me in. Let me drive. I'll make your little butt feel sooo good. We're going to fuck and fuck. Men, women, whoever we want. Whoever wants us. And, everybody is going to want us, Amy.

Amy gently finger fucked herself with her fingertip.

Oh, Amy, we're sooo wet now. Feel it dripping down your thighs? All that pussy cream. You need cock. You need Chad's big, hard cock in your little pussy, don't you?

"Oh! Yes! I do. I need it." She pressed harder, felt her sphincter open a little. A little more. And, suddenly she was past the little ring! "Oh, God! I'm doing it!"

Mmm, yeah, so good. Chad's big cock in your tight little pussy... and Eddie's hard cock in your filthy ass.

Amy jumped, startled from her reverie. She suddenly realized she was on the bathroom floor, her middle finger shoved all the way up her ass. "No! What?!"

The voice cackled in her ear. A few more days? That hard body of yours will belong to me again, bitch. And, I'm going to make it do the nastiest shit you can imagine.

Amy sobbed as she pulled the finger out of her ass. She looked up.

Chad was standing in the bathroom door.

"No! Oh, God, no!" She curled into a fetal position. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Chad, I'm so sorry."

He knelt down beside her and pulled her into his arms. "No, no, it's okay, Amy. You don't have to be ashamed."

"Scared. I'm so scared, Chad. I think I'm losing my mind."

Chad swallowed and shook his head. "No, honey. You're not. I... remembered. On my way home from work. It just popped back into my head. Somehow, they made us forget until now."

"What? What do you mean?"

He pointed at the moon through the bathroom window. It was almost full. "The full moon. I have to take you to the farm. Amy Lynn is coming back."

Eyes wide, Amy stared at the moon and felt all hope die.

***

His name was Bill, but everyone called him Bull. Bull Drummond, after Bulldog Drummond from the old movies. He wiped sweat off his bald head as he watched the whores walk into the seedy hotel in downtown Ithaca. How many times had he frequented such a den of iniquity in his youth?

He watched the sluts parading in their stockings and lace - wearing little more than underwear.

Spreading disease. Not only STDs, but a sickness of the soul that infected men and women alike.

But, Bull Drummond had been cured of that soul sickness. He put his hand on the crisp new Bible beside him on the seat. This was his salvation: the word of God. And, God's gift, his faithful wife, Amelia. He owned his own little motel south of here. His wife watched over it.

And, they didn't tolerate whores and pimps.

He spread the word of God whenever he could: he sold Bibles as a sideline, spending days on the road throughout New York state.

And, he ministered to the fallen whenever he could.

He got out of his old car and crossed the street, Bible in hand.

"Hi, Pops, wanna date?" A skinny woman with needle tracks on her arms asked him as he approached the doors to the hotel.

"No. I'm here to deliver salvation." He smiled at her, though he knew that the Satan that put those holes in her arms had doomed her. He could not save those who had fallen to the depths of hell. He walked into the dim and musty hotel lobby. The floor was filthy and the old wallpaper was peeling down like a leper's skin.

A thin man wearing a black leather collar with chrome spikes looked at him from behind the reception desk. There was thick glass separating him from Bull, with only a small grill to talk through and a small slit in the glass for money to change hands.

"Fuck no! Not you. You get the fuck out of here!" the skinny man said. His eyes were too big for his face and looked like they might pop out of their sockets. He was holding a baseball bat in his right hand.

"I want a room," Bull said. Bull was tall, a foot and a half taller than the man behind the glass. He outweighed the little man by two hundred pounds.

"No way. We don't want you in here. You're bad for business."

"I have money." Bull held up two hundred dollar bills.

Pop eyes blinked at the money. His eyes narrowed. "That's the room. Girl is extra if you want one."

"How much?"

"Three hundred."

"No."

"Two hundred. I got a new girl, real sweet."

Bull stared down at the wretch through the glass. "Okay."

***

Delia tried to take the pink dildo all the way down her throat. It was a foot long with realistic balls.

"When the balls touch your chin, I'll pull it back out," Cindy said.

Delia closed her eyes, willing herself not to choke as the dildo slid deeper and deeper.

"No, Delia, open your eyes. You got to look the john in the eyes while you go down on him. He'll cum faster and then you can bounce," Cindy said.

Though the girls were both eighteen, Cindy was far more mature. Delia would be lost without her. She opened her eyes and tried to look alluring with the rubber dick halfway down her throat.

"Come on, two more inches. You're almost there," Cindy said. The brunette's hair was in a ponytail, and her bright green eyes always seemed to sparkle.

Delia slid a little further down. It was so big. In her throat. Hard to breathe. Her eyes went wide and her stomach lurched. She dragged herself quickly off the dildo and clamped her hand over her mouth. She jumped off the bed and dashed to the hotel room bathroom where she heaved breakfast into the bowl.

"Fuck. Really?" Cindy grumbled from the bed.

"S... Sorry... oh, God!" Delia tossed more cookies into the toilet bowl.

Hands were in her light blonde hair, pulling it back out of her eyes. Cindy.

"It's okay, Delia."

"N... No... I just can't do it, Cin." She shook and heaved again as her only friend held her hair and talked to her in soothing tones.

"You'll get it. It took me a while to get used to deepthroat."

"Yeah, but you never threw up on a john."

Cindy laughed. "Well, no. But, there were a few I wanted to blow chunks on."

Delia laughed.

"Jesus, fuck! What the fuck are you sluts doing in there?" Clay yelled as he walked into their hotel room without knocking.

"She's sick."

"Get her fat ass out here. She's got a customer."

Cindy stood up and stormed out of the bathroom. "I said: she's sick."

Clay, the little man with the pop eyes had to look up at her, though he outweighed her. Still he backed up.

Clay wasn't the pimp. He was the guy who took the money. The pimp, Randall, wasn't there during the day.

She wouldn't have been as brave with Randall. Clay was a pussy.

Randall ate pussy for breakfast, literally and figuratively.

"Use some fucking mouthwash and get down to room sixty-one," Clay barked over her shoulder toward the bathroom.

"I'll take him," Cindy said.

"Naah, he wants something virginal looking. You ain't been a virgin in a while, skank."

She took a step forward and balled up her fists. "I said I'll fucking take him."

Clay looked at her with contempt. "Fine. Move your skinny ass. Oh, one thing: he's a Bible thumper. Means he'll probably want to pray before he ass fucks you."

***

Bull sat on the dusty bed. The room smelled of mold and poor hygiene. He held the Bible in his hands and prayed.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in."

The girl that came through the door was tall and skinny and dressed in a red lace camisole with garter belt and stockings. Red heels completed her outfit. Her lips were bright red and she had too much blush on her cheeks. "I'm Sindy. With an 'S'..."

Bull laughed and shook his head. "No. It's a 'C', not an 'S'. Nobody spells Cindy with an S. They just say they do."

She leaned in the doorframe. "What's the matter, baby. Don't I turn you on?"

"Shut the door."

She looked down at the Bible in his hand. She swallowed hard and the practiced hooker smile faded a little.

"I won't hurt you."

"No offense, but the last fellow I knew who carried a Bible around like that used to beat the fuck out of me. Are you a whore beater? Because Randall, he doesn't like that."

"Randall's your pimp?"

"He takes care of me."

"He's your pimp. He beat you?"

"Sometimes."

"I won't hurt you. Go on. Shut the door."

Cindy looked out into the hall and then closed the door behind her.

"How old are you?" Bull asked.

"Old enough."

"That's not an answer."

"Eighteen. Does that turn you on?"

"No. It doesn't."

She walked toward him, her skinny hips shimmying with each step.

He stood up and she took an awkward step back in the heels - he towered over her. "Sit down." He pointed at the bed and walked to the window.

She sat down on bed. After a moment, she gave him a smile and parted her thighs, showing the dark crotch of her panties. "Come on, baby. Don't you want..."

"Close your thighs. I don't want anything from you. Certainly not that."

She quickly pressed her thighs together. "Look, man, I don't know what you want..."

"What do you want?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want, Cindy? Do you want this life? Do you want to be what this Randall has made of you?"

She looked at him for a minute.

She burst out laughing. "Randall didn't make me into... this. Life made me this."

"Evil men made you this. Maybe not Randall, but somebody like him."

"Look, mister, do you want to fuck or not?"

Bull got on his knees. "No, I want to pray with you."

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

He held up the Bible. "There is salvation in here, Cindy. For you, for me, for everyone."

"Jesus, I don't know who's worse - you or those weird Church of Morpheus people uptown."

"Church of what?"

"Nevermind. Just some freaky shit going on uptown and over at the college." She stood up and put her fists on her hips. "Look, baby, if you don't want your dick sucked or to plug one of the other two holes? I got customers."

Bull stood up. "You need to leave this place. You know this. You're not stupid, I can tell. For your soul's sake." He handed her an envelope. "Take this."

"What?" She opened it. Inside was five hundred dollars and a card with the address of a motel. "What the fuck?"

"Take the money. Leave this place and go home, or if home is too bad, you can go to the address on the card. My wife and I will find a place for you. It won't be glamorous work. It'll be hard, but it will be better than this. We've helped lost girls like you before."

"Jesus, you're crazy, mister," she whispered. But, she stuffed the envelope down between her small breasts.

"Don't blaspheme."

***

Cindy burst back into the room to find Delia lying on the bed in a white negligee. "That was quick."

Cindy closed the door behind her. "Get dressed."

"Huh?"

"Get your clothes on, ditz. We're getting the fuck out of here."

Delia rolled onto her side. "Are you nuts? Randall will beat us black and blue."

Cindy pulled the envelope out of her cleavage. "Five hundred dollars, Delia. Some weird Jesus freak just gave me five hundred dollars. We're getting the fuck out of here."

The pale blonde girl stared at the envelope. "Jesus... for real?"

"Fuck! Would you hurry?"

***

The small man with the pop eyes had laughed at Bull as he left through the lobby. "Goddamn. Bet you didn't even get your dick out of your pants before Cindy made you jizz!"