Topic: Diary of a Half-Demon Artist
Waking up was always a pleasure when I had someone with me. As I squirmed and began to move, a gentle arm slid over me and cupped a breast, rubbing the soft flesh and a welcome voice whispered in my ear.
"Breakfast in bed, love?"
"That sounds lovely," I purred as my tongue flicked across the toothless inner lips and clit hidden just behind my lips like a lover licking me as I felt the gentle press from behind of my lover's penis slip between the cheeks of my ass and press at the labia and clit hidden within before slipping inside me.
"Breakfast in Bed," our little joke that we enjoyed, was a euphamism for the fact that for the last five years, I have been sustained by mana, emotions, pleasure, ecstasy, even the mind succumbing to corruption sustained me. It had ever since I had paid my entire savings that I had earned as an alchemist to a certain Greater Demon to become a Half-Demon, and enhance my abilities in the trade.
Memory lane faded as it always does as the hand cupping that delightful lower breast coaxed the lips where my nipples would otherwise have occupied and slipped a finger gently into the love tunnel behind as my ass quivered and squeezed, my breast desperately suckling his finger with the tongue held within as all of my myriad parts came awake fully. As I leaned around and tilted my head to meet my lover, our lips touched, we kissed, and I melted into my morning "meal" before we go to work.
Once I got myself untangled, I rather gingerly stepped into the bathroom to get clean and get ready. Several pairs of lips quivered and licked themselves in anticipation as I selected my clothing and laid them out on the bed. Going back into the bathroom and looking at the mirror always made me smile. Far from the unassuming and odd man I had started off as, my time as a half-demon was well-spent artfully sculpting myself as a walking advertisement for my business.
My face and skin had started as a lovely girl who signed up to be a product demonstration model rather early on, and so she was, forever a puppet to my actions as I moved her while she was helpless to do anything but feel anything caressing my body. My pussy has started out as my forst lover as a woman, before I had learned to mostly control my excitement. The poor boy had melted into my crotch, his mouth forever open to penetration, blind, deaf, only able to taste and feel, indistinguishable from a natural pussy on a born woman. The cock between my legs had been inspired by my pussy and as I seemed to have an easier time merging people to fuel a transformation, my body became a theme park of merged lovers and product models.
Everything from the soft lips concealing another tongue and pussy to my four arms with another pussy in the palm, running up my forearm, each of the the delicate, feminine cockheads that tipped my fingers instead of fingertips, the four generous breasts with pussy mouth copies of my own mouth, my ass with yet another vulva contained within... My torso, chest and abdomen whom now shared the sensations of each of the others attached to him... Even my legs had a soft pussy driving straight up through my heels into my legs.
The long, dark red hair that cascaded wildly and hugged my form was another, a girl who had wished she could caress my body forever and got her wish. Each of these things had begin as another person, with each pussy or breast having begun male, and each of the delicate cocks on my hand, or the somewhat larger than average one between my legs had started as a woman.
I smiled as I licked a fingertip softly, then began washing off the sweat and sex of the morning, and last evening. I could feel each of my additions vividly, their emotions a jumble of embarrassment, humiliation, naked desire and anticipation. Changing them into the bits opposite their genders made them very... receptive and emotional, and their succumbing to ecstasy whenever I used them provided me no end to the energy I needed to live and do my work.
Once I was clean, and of course my boyfriend at the time Charles decided to join me for more fun, I got out and began to dress myself. My clothing was very similar to my additions, and it had to be. As a half-demon I was dependent upon a constant flow of mana, but I can only get enough to barely survive just through breathing, unlike some of my other peers. But I paid that price to gain better control over my bodily fluids and transformative abilities.
Each of the items of clothing was designed to enhance my ability to collect said sustaining mana. The leather pants were alive, as were the rest of my modest wardrobe, a being of living, black and yellow-patterned leather that had found my legs and hips thrust inside begun as a cute, hermaphroditic girl and her lover whom invited me to be the meat in the middle of a sex sandwich. When I left they had become one being, and I smiled as I slipped them up my legs, reliving the memory in my head as their two fleshy cocks, perfectly preserved and forever erect inside the garment, slipped into the labia in my crotch and ass as I wriggled to fully eat the skin-hugging garment. Her mouth was a thing I was particularly proud of, and had thought impossible, but the herm girl's mouth and pussy combined rather like mine, and as I squirmed them on over my hips those lips parted and my penis slipped between them, sucked into a velvety softness that would instantly have me erect and aroused. But even with my cock shoved almost seven inches into a tight, suckling pussy, nothing showed at my crotch, which appeared smooth, and naturally feminine. As I caressed the leather they tightened, the laces along the sides pulling tight as the living garment involuntarily hugged me tightly to keep my sexes in them.
The long gloves that came up to midway on my upper arms had taken months to put together with each of the fingers, and the main body of the gloves having began existence as a separate person. As I pressed my hands into each of the four in turn, I felt another fleshy cock slide into the pussies on my palms, and my fingertips invaded the lovely warmth of the vaginal passages concealed on the inside of the gloves. My hands looked perfectly normal ad the gloves also pulled themselves tight, ensuring they wouldn't come off until I was ready, the laces along the back pulled tightly.
The corset wasn't as complex as the gloves, but the girl who made up the main portion and the four men who comprised each of the four cups were an interesting experiment. As I slid them on, and my breast lipples were stuffed with yet more living cocks and I felt them desperately suckling, torn between trying to devour the cum and fade to pleasure and alternately trying to shamefully eject the intruders from themselves.
Last were the boots, with the three inch heels. As I put my legs into them, again, I felt the cocks slip into my heels, helping stabilize my ankles as I walked. I really hadn't thought the heel-pussies through when I added them, but the boots made every step an erotic and sensual experience, giving the illusion of being pleasurably fucked by the very ground I stood on. The boots had started off as a pair of wealthy twin do-nothings who were busy squandering the family fortunes that their siblings were trying to preserve. I had been paid good money to remove them from the inheritence, and give them a long, pleasurable life. I like to think I have, as I slip my feet into their mouths and impale my heels on their cocks. For all their arrogance and privilege, my boots are, oddly the most accepting of my transformees.
As I stand up and shake out the kinks, I brush my hair, smiling as the poor girl trapped as my tresses tried to scream silently, in ecstasy before deliberately mussing her with my hands just enough to get that wild, "just fucked" feel to it.
Charles was already gone to work as I walked over and picked up a lollipop, my favorite candy now, and popped the sweet ball into my mouth for the poor boy who had become that toothless passage to taste and enjoy. He was my most recent addition, one I added to make oral sex less of a chore with charles. The poor new mouth would forever be driven wild by the tongue flickering through him, flicking the clitoris delicately with each syllable spoken. His legs were the tongue now, and he got to engoy cunnilingus nonstop as I left him helpless and conscious.
Yes, it may be cruel, but a living, sentient mind trapped within, not allowed to go mad, or slip away into the oblivion of merely being a sex organ or garment made far better fuel for my life and powers. And since I needed a lot of power to be able to sustain myself and run my business, necessity dictated my actions. Their hope that I might someday release them was cute, but not in the cards. I had sealed each and every one to my body, so no matter how I changed my own form, they would forever be merely another part of my form, never to escape.
I assure you, the fact that between my additions and clothing I got to enjoy fucking and being fucked with every movement as I walked to work had nothing to do with that... Ok it had everything to do with it.
Ah, my shop, nestled in a upper-class part of town while I live more modestly. I do transformations as an alchemist, able to concentrate my energies into creating weaker demon-cum of I refine it in my body. It takes a lot of energy, but I have excellent fine control over the process. I have to, since I advertise myself as a specialist in beautiful transformations that accentuate the natural beauty of the human body. Gross, rapid and complex mutations are usually beyond me, unless I expend literally all of my energy in one go. I was never as fond of the seemingly random shifts often favored by demons.
Rather like my own unique form, I much prefer for every change to accentuate a body rather than ruin it. I like to think of myself as an artist.
Those brief moments where I can mimic a full demon's power are exquisite, ecstatic, and starvation-inducing, to the point where it can take anywhere up to three days of desperate, mindless, orgiastic sex and little control over my transformative abilities to return to normal. But occasionally a customer needed a complex transformation RIGHT NOW. It wasn't cheaper than summoning and paying Mammon to do it, but it was somewhat safer, lacking a need for complex invocations.
But for now, while I would love to continue talking about myself, I need to get to work. Perhaps you will be curious enough to step into my shop one day, and let me bring your fantasies to life. But until then, maybe next time I see you I'll tell you about the transformations I've done. Or maybe I'll let you watch when I finally let Charles "Convince" me to let him become one of my delicious creations.
Or would you rather become one of them?
