Topic: Daemonsnacht (Edited this time)
Sorry for the late release folks, but Real Life struck. So without further adieu... and a mangling of german words...
It's ironic that sometimes when we're at our best, we can often be at our worst. My best is being a mercenary alchemist with a deep, abiding love of absorption transformations, as my current boyfriend, and his best friend discovered during a bit of piqued delight while I was playing the meat in the middle of a sex sandwich. As a half-demon I am capable of warping and re-weaving the flesh of normal, mortal people like clay on a potter's wheel. While I normally use alchemy so I'm less obvious, last night's escapades were... special to me.
Unfortunately when I'm at my worst, my self-control slips, and can become a danger to almost anyone around me, as more than one of the various once-people making up my odd anatomy can attest.
Charles, whom I believe I've mentioned once before was rather shocked as the changes started, but he knew it would happen sooner or later. Freya bless him, he took everything in stride, including being blinded by his lover. His friend, whose name I barely bothered to learn found fate a little more interesting. He probably regretted tagging along with Charles to have some fun time with me once he figured out what I had done to him. I'll admit, the look of surprised shock and ecstasy will be one I treasure for a long time.
As I stretched out on the bed, I languidly slid my two left hands across my lovers' body, I let the poor, trapped boys who's existence was forever trapped in my four generous, lip-capped breasts kiss along Charles' body. The tongues exited copies of the mouths on my face, toothless passages with labia and vaginal passages with deft tongues behind sexy, all-too-human lips as the blind and helpless creatures sought sensation with kissing lips and probing tongues. The four of their favorite game is to find a nipple to latch onto and suckle.
Charles had changed. His body was more feminine, a gift he'd received after he delighted me by taking the penis between my legs and caressing her with his tongue, suckling her glans as the former woman silently shrieked in protest and ecstasy. I'll never cease being impressed as he kept working his mouth along the shaft of my sentient dick even as his mouth and nose pulled tight, teeth absorbing, tongue dissolving as I gave the masculine face bobbing on my cock a lovely, feminine pussy that squeezed and caressed me tightly and delightfully.
His friend and I kissed while my newly transformed lover slid his new pussymouth up and down my shaft, and the tongue of the man dancing between my lips fluttered in the soft, toothless passage of the pussy hidden behind my own normal lips, flicking past the labia and rubbing the clit hidden just inside the top of my mouth while my tongue danced with his. The poor boy who's form padded the inside of my slick mouth could do nothing save endure the stimulation as that lovely tongue drove my reformed mouth into delightful orgasm after orgasm.
I wanted to return the favor, and as we kissed, Charles' friend's body shrank. I kept kissing the disembodied head he had become in my upper hands while my lower pair hands ran through Charles' hair, slicking his head with pussy juices from the vaginas embedded in the palms of my hands, and precum from the delicate cockheads tipping my fingers as the pair of men shared that experience.
Both of my playmates were oblivious to the cacophony of emotions ripping from my various sexual organs, each individual one a former human who had become trapped in my form, riding my ecstasy, some willingly but most of them not so much. I wanted to share the exquisite pleasure of feeling someone joined to you as part of your form with my lover and his friend.
Charles' now labial lips pulsed and massaged my penis as the first waves of cum flooded his mouth-slit, frozen, jerking at the unfamiliar sensations of his face involuntarily tightening around my penis rapidly in a pleasurable orgasm. My own happy cry was awash with greater intensity as I felt him orgasm for the first time with his new sex. The fact that he no longer required to breathe simply made it easier, I would imagine. He couldn't choke on the pearly spunk that was smearing all over the inside of the tight, warm, cock-sleeve his mouth and nose had become, even though a bit of both our juices slicked off his lips onto me.
I coaxed Charles' face off my shaft, letting the poor, overwhelmed organ rest a moment so I could get him to climb on top of me and set his own cock to the pair of feminine lips that had once begun life as my first male lover. I let my legs spread and felt his cock slide into the slick sheath between my thighs, gasping with delight as my first boyfriend engulfed Charles' delightful member again as he had so many times since I'd lost control and reduced him to nothing more than the feminine sex I'd learned to enjoy having so much. The now-bodiless head of his friend lay to the side like a discarded toy, gaping and trying to form words to protest its reduced state of being.
Charles grabbed my ass as I rolled on top of him, squeezing as the pussy between the cheeks of my butt quivered in protest, both at the grand fucking Charles' now-reduced friend had given it a few minutes before, and the fingers now gripping the cheeks of it's existence for a few moments before I arched up and began riding my lover slowly.
I smiled down at my very confused, aroused lover as I took his hands with my lower arms and crossed them under his pectorals, putting my upper hands to said muscles and began kneading as the hot bar of my penis slid across his belly with each rise and fall of my hips. I leaned in and slid my tongue into the slit gracing his face, picking up a bit more of our mutual juices before grinding my tongue-tip into the clitoral nub which had replaced his nose.
The two luscious breasts rising from his chest were generous, full, shapely. His wide-eyed expression of confusion and ecstasy bore out as my lower hands massaged his arms, reshaping them, kneading away the bones, sculpting the former limbs into two new breasts. Each one was a twin of the soft teardrop resting above it, leaving my new sex pet's shoulders bare, smooth and rounded.
I leaned in and let the toothless mouths replacing my nipples latch onto his newly-made nipples, using my hands to coax his flopping tits into position so I could suckle at the sensitive bits gently while my hands traced along his torso and hips. The moan came from somewhere in my pretty lover's chest as my long hair slid across his face, caressing him as I rose and fell in my steady rhythm, the girl comprising my blood-red locks gently sliding along his forehead, cheeks as they became more feminine as she silently came inside me, arching fully as she gave a protesting moan. It was my turn to drip our juices from my lips below.
Womanly curves, with artfully empty shoulders replaced the masculine form I'd dove into bed with many, many times. I wondered idly if Charles realized what he'd gotten himself into when he offered himself to become my transformed plaything whenever I wished, however I wished. Two more breasts joined Charles' four mammaries on a whim while I focused my magic on keeping his cock hard and ready. I had special plans for that.
As I leaned back my hands reshaped legs into feminine shapes, arching backwards as my two lower hands found the delightful feet of my lover, and reshaped them into fleshy, rather than bony, hooves with a cleft marked by a clitoris. The bottoms of his new "feet" became sensitive, labia-wreathed pussies that would forever provide my lover with pleasure whenever she took an awkward step.
It's impossible to describe an orgasm that takes your entire body. Even my heels, which still had the penises buried at the bottoms of my boots thrust into them quivered and fluttered exquisitely with their own silent screams. My first absorbed lover involuntarily clenched around Charles' penis in delightful orgasm, his former sister began spraying her load across the chest and face of the former man beneath me as my sentient penis joined the fun.
My breasts, excited and frantically using their tongues on the clits hidden behind their upper lips drooled helplessly as they quivered, spasmed and danced. The former men who I'd merged with my arms felt their toothless, tongue-less mouths quivering as the pussies in my palms gave their resolve and the precum dripping from all twenty of my cockhead-tipped fingers spurted their tiny loads while my poor ass involuntarily squeezed more cum from himself as the pussy that was his mouth joined the hurricane of sensation.
I actually screamed when my mouth involuntarily spasmed and every nerve of my body was engulfed in the whitest fire of pleasure. This was a treat that I didn't get to enjoy often, and resolved to have the opportunity for more often. Full-body orgasm, delirious pleasure mixed with the heady, addictive rush of reshaping mortal flesh with my hands awakened the demon in me, and the changes I had wracked my lover's form with were suddenly not enough.
When the fire subsided, the aftershocks washed pleasantly through me as I slid off Charles' still-erect cock. I reached behind myself and picked up the confused, seemingly discarded head that was frantically trying to speak without lungs or vocal cords while I kept my dear pet occupied with yet more kisses, and tonguing of her facial pussy while she moaned in frustrated ecstasy. I pushed two fingers into the back of the head, feeling more than seeing his mouth go wide as the new, sensitive passage and my dripping fingers penetrated his brain.
I slid the pussy on the back of his head onto Charles' shaft as I pressed, and my lovers both got to feel the unique and exquisite sensation of flesh joining flesh, bone dissolving as muscles absorbed the hair, skin and skull into my lover's hips. Nose and mouth receded as my work finished, leaving nothing but a surprised pair of baby blue eyes staring outward silently above the delicate vagina his mouth had become.
My squirming lover's eyes nearly popped out of her head as I set myself between her thighs, then pushed. My cockhead slipped tightly into the brand-new passage between her legs as her involuntary bodymate came for the first time, teeth and tongue dissolved entirely into the juices that would lubricate my cock's entry into his mouth, penetrating his whole being as I began thrusting into the squirming, writhing toy in my arms, letting my breasts suckle her nipples while I flicked my tongue along her labia and clit, even as I penetrated her in completely unexpected ways.
It didn't take very long, and it still wasn't enough, even as I came hard, spurting yet more seed deeply into the tight, quivering, orgasming passage that was once a man's mouth. I gasped and purred softly, whispering into my excited, ecstatic, overwhelmed and terrified lover's ear. "Would you like to feel more, sweetling?"
The naked fear and lust at the thoughts of what I might do next warred in her eyes as she rightly realized that I might not stop even if she said no, her halting nod an affirmation of my intent. I purred and kissed her again as I swept her hair from her head, leaving a bald, shiny skull that rapidly grew bizarre lumps all over while I kept my penis stuffed in Charles' new pussy, whose wide eyes were stuck staring at the hips bearing the meat so rudely, pleasurably thrust into his whole being, disbelieving.
The bumps grew tiny slits at the tips as I rolled on my back, sitting up, forcing the newly-minted sex-creature to sit on my crotch while the tendrils slipped from her head. Each one was an inch-thick, prehensile penis that extended to her mid-thigh like a medusa's serpentine locks. Dozens of tentacles tipped with lovely glans poked, writhed and prodded while she tried to learn how to wield the closest things to hands she would ever enjoy again. Fully prehensile, her cock-hair would be the way she interacted with the world.
And it still wasn't enough.
I licked her pussyface from the base of the labia to her clit, then took her cheeks in my slick hands and guided her eyes down to the helpless eyes staring from just above the impaled flesh of her pussy. as her eyes went wide with recognition I purred out "You really only need two eyes, lover. You should really learn to communicate with yours."
At Charles' confused, questioning look I slid my tongue across her right eye, amused as she shut it to protect the vulnerable organ contained behind her eyelids. She gave another moan as my tongue slid into the socket, suddenly gushing its own pussy juices as her newest penis receptacle replaced the eye. My top-left hand slid an index finger into her left eye, pressing out the juices of the pussy there as she, too, discovered what a full-body orgasm felt like, cumming from her mouth and eye-pussies, her tight vagina between her legs clenching my cock pleasurably as all of the cock-tentacles attached to her head spewed white, ropy streamers of cum all over the bed, and me.
Poor Charles, the stimulation was far, far too much for her as her exhaustion gave out, and she passed into unconsciousness in my arms. I lay her on her back, smiling at the two eyes staring from her hips, half-lidded in pleasure, trying to muster fury against becoming nothing more than a sex organ on his friend's body, an orifice I fully intended to use for my own pleasure over, and over again. I let my lower-left hand slide over him, teasing his lips as Pussy's eyes rolled back into its "head" with pleasure, feeling it try to clench around the two cock-tipped fingers I slid into its mouth gently.
It's a good thing I hadn't bothered to learn Charles' friend's name. Pussy was so much better than anything it could have been. As I leaned into my lover and spooned myself against her, I pressed my shaft once more into her, ass this time. When she failed to react as I mirrored our favorite sleeping position as she had done with me so many times, I focused one more time and decided to let her wake up with the familiar-to-me sensation of waking up with the pussy ensconced between my ass cheeks still filled with a cock.
And it wasn't enough.
As soon as I let the exhaustion take me, my eyes snapped open, the tension returned, the sleepy lethargy was gone and I felt the mana suffusing my flesh surge. I slid out of my unconscious lover, unceremoniously feeling the need to clean myself, to get a layer of... something... off my skin. Soap didn't help. Shampoo, conditioner, moisturizing lotion, nothing helped. Even after my hair (whom was shrieking silently in ecstasy as I lavished her with my attention) was dried and styled just so, I still felt like I needed to be free of... something.
It was sheer frustration that caused me to grab my hair and pull. My head slid out of the skin like it was a glove, my back and skull slipping out of a sudden seam behind me as I peeled my skin off, shedding the human flesh with so many, now dormant, minds trapped within its curves. As I stepped out of my own skin, that feeling of needing to clean myself left. I found myself holding my skin, the face of Alisaundra, Master Alchemist in a spindly, thin, ghost-white hand, following the wall to a full-body mirror showing... me.
I suddenly understood what people meant when it was said every demon, and Half-Demon has a "true form." I had simply thought I would modify my skin and create my form the way most demons could simply reshape the mana that made up their flesh and make themselves into any number of grotesque shapes, or perfectly normal and human for infiltrating society.
The lanky, hairless, androgynous shape was sexless, featureless, ghost-white. It was bald, and had no mouth or nose. Two blank indentations where eyes should have been stared, seemingly blankly, into the mirror. It only had two arms, two legs, nothing between its legs, and no ass to speak of.
I was featureless, a blank slate, a mockery of the careful sculpting I had done to make my artfully woven skin as though a tailor on clothing.
I felt naked, and the limp, six-limbed, four-breasted, five-mouthed, twenty-one penis'd, thirteen vagina-having, heavy suit of flesh had been my clothing. That flesh was complete, had been for months since I'd absorbed the five obnoxious fraternity pranksters who'd snuck into my guest house at the University where I was speaking on methods of Alchemy into my breasts and mouth after they'd woken me taking pictures of one of them pressing his dick to my sleeping lips.
This suit of flesh was complete.
I don't know why, but I took the skin I had worn for so very long, and simply hooked her onto a hangar in my closet before letting her hang and drape down to the floor. I suddenly knew what was wrong...
I had only one proper outfit in my wardrobe.
This would not do at all.
I felt like I needed to go shopping.
As I stepped out into the world, it was late in the afternoon, pushing towards dusk. I didn't bother hiding myself, instead walking naked, and showing nothing through the streets until I came upon the celebration in the middle of town, and I realized what had happened.
Costumes lined the streets of the capitol, as people celebrated "Daemonsnacht" in older forms of the imperial language. Modern parlance called it Demon's Eve, the day when Demons walked the streets in a trance-like state, gifting changes to all while watching for more potent Demonic creatures which might simply take them, absorb them, devour their essence. People could protect themselves by wearing costumes of transformees, confusing the Demons, and making it so that they could not tell mortal from demon, making transformation dangerous.
I've gone through enough of these nights to know that on Demon's Eve, the mana of the world surges, infusing mana creatures with energy that affects each one uniquely. Some do, in fact, follow the rules mortals believe of Demon's Eve, losing their mana sight and bumbling about in a daze. Some who cannot become human do so for one night, and can reflect upon their states. Some go berserk, some give into orgiastic lust. Some become more potent, change, become reborn.
I had never felt much on Demon's Eve save an upsurge of hunger. I fed that hunger through sex, and a few involuntary additions to my body each year. Now I had changed, and something was up. I felt like I could breathe, feel the mana, grab it... and make the three pretty young women sporting mock-ups of my favorite transformations besides body merging, pussy-mouths and multiple breasts, merge with their now-flesh costumes which left each of them with a cock-hungry cum-receptacle in place of her mouth and nose, and the falsies merged to their chests and torsos to become true breasts they would bear until the day they died with but an act of will.
It didn't exhaust me.
I could see the transformed, subtle patterns of reshaped flesh and mana standing out among the crowd of normal people as I slipped through, ignoring the odd looks and shrugging and nodding when asked if I'd gotten my changes this night.
The Empire is strange compared to my homeland of Freya's Realm. Most people deride transformations here, but fleshwarping received on Daemonsnacht held a lesser stigma, almost a badge of honor for braving the deadliest night to humanity and sanity. Those who awoke altered the next morning would find tradition protecting them rather than ostracizing them.
The demon and I barely acknowledged each others' passing as we moved within arm's reach of each other. Each of us had a purpose, a mission, a goal this night. I did not know his, nor did I care. He gave me the same courtesy as he stalked the crowd, watching the people like a predatory animal gazes upon sheep.
I glided past my own shop, Casual Wickedry, noting the closed sign and my lovely, dark-haired apprentice Mikaela dutifully studying one of the alchemy manuals I had given her. She, or Zasha would make a lovely suit, unspoiled and barely changed, with merely four breasts and each other alternating as person and pussy, changing as they slept.
But they were a good student, so I moved along, searching.
Demon-Hunters are an annoyance. For every half-demon they slay, dozens of them fall into gibbering insensibility, transformed into helpless things that could strike at no one, or becoming dangerous beasts with infectious transformative powers. For every avatar slain, hundreds might fall. This demon-hunter was enjoying a night with two lovely creatures whom tittered at his blades, and the crossbow at his hip.
They would make a lovely suit.