Models: Johnny Hill & Nadia Love
Slipping into Ethan’s apartment, Indy paused to listen for a moment, her plastic tits bulging against her outfit and a syringe of clear liquid held idly in one hand.
She always preferred to know if she should expect company during a session – after all, it was her job to adapt herself to satisfy any client, no matter if they were the ones paying for her services or not – and Ethan was infamous throughout Metamorphose for throwing exceptionally wild orgies.
But this afternoon it sounded like she would be enjoying Ethan’s company alone; the apartment was quiet, still and empty. Apart from the handful of lingerie scattered about the place there was no sign of life, though such discarded clothing was not unusual in Ethan’s rooms, while the only sound was a slow huffing drifting from the bedroom.
Indy smiled: glittering pearls framed by scarlet pillows. She was more than happy to have Ethan to herself. He was a big tipper in more ways than one, and as one of her regulars she knew how to push his buttons just as much as he knew how to push hers. Any session with him invariably devolved into filthy depravity – exactly how Indy liked it.
Making sure her tattooed cleavage was on view and the thong of her deliciously inappropriate nurse’s outfit sufficiently slotted between her immense ass cheeks, Indy strutted towards the bedroom, white heels clicking sharply.
The moment she entered the room, she jumped into the role Ethan had ordered. ‘Oh dear,’ she purred, crossing her arms to squeeze her tits, ‘that looks awfully swollen. It’s a good thing you called for a nurse.’
Ethan was nude on the bed. His huge cock jutted straight up as he stroked it slowly and he looked up at her with a smirk. ‘Thank you for coming, nurse, I really need your help. It’s my cock. It just won’t stop throbbing. Can you cure me?’
Stalking around the side of the bed Indy eyed the tattooed hunk greedily. As she set the syringe down on the bedside table she caught sight of the open room service menu. Though every option available was certainly a snack there was no food on offer. Instead the menu consisted of dozens of names. Some were listed under the Buxom Beauty Buffet, others made up the Midnight Skanks, who Indy knew became increasingly horny the later the hour. Lite Bites was dedicated to individuals under 100lbs; Fast Fucks were available for those clients who wanted a short but sweet encounter; International Flavours offered options from every corner of the map. There were Jock Desserts, Beefy Bulls and Tasty Twinks. And there, listed under Trans Treats was her name: Indy Ink.
As she leaned in, Indy closed the Raunchy Room Service menu and slid it out of arm’s reach – just to make sure he didn’t call anyone else up to interrupt her fun.
‘Don’t worry, sir, I’m here to look after you now. You and your juicy cock. I’ve seen this before and I’m afraid if we don’t make you cum you’re going to burst. Lucky for you, I have some experience in that field.’
With that she was crawling across the bed with an expression sultry so sultry even a siren could not have resisted her.
Indy didn’t waste any time. She knew full well that Ethan had no interest in foreplay. Rather the opposite, in fact, for he was the kind of guy who could fuck for hours at a time and didn’t like to delay the main event. Besides, she could hardly wait to have his fat cock in her ass.
She was riding him in moments. Her thong discarded and her ass already lubed up before she even entered the room, she straddled his hips and sank down onto his shaft with a giddy groan. A deviant smile twisted her lips as he filled her, the aching pleasure of his meat stretching her anal muscles throbbing through her buxom figure. His entire length vanished easily inside her and for a moment she simply sat there, struck dumb by the ecstasy.
Then his strong hands rose to her bosom and peeled aside her uniform to expose her enormous tits. ‘Fuck yes,’ she moaned as he groped her silicone rack, ‘use me how you like, baby. If we’re going to cure you, we need to empty you of as much cum as we possibly can. I prescribe absolutely anything that makes you hornier.’
‘Oh, this definitely does,’ Ethan grunted, squeezing her breasts so hard his knuckles went white and her whole chest ached. ‘But so does everything about you. By the way, you left this last time you were here,’ he added, slipping the prongs of a stethoscope around her neck. The memory of using it to ‘diagnose’ the last problem he’d had with his cock came back to her, as did the raw hunger that had possessed her once she started throating it with her bright red lips.
Ethan eased her up gently, his hands cupping her fat ass. Once she was a little higher, he took the opportunity to thrust. With her arms sandwiching his head and her legs flanking his thighs she had him pinned in place, yet he was still very much the one in charge. Driving up slowly, he drew a breathless gasp from her, her lips forming a perfect rouge circle.
It did not take long before he was pumping into her tight hole. Her thighs and ass jiggled with every stroke, while her insides churned as intense pleasure rolled through her in mind-bending waves. Meanwhile the shrivelled vestige of manhood that was her cock bobbed pathetically, totally and utterly useless.
At least for now.
Because she had plans for Ethan. It had taken her quite some time to get hold of what she needed to rock his world, but if anywhere had a corner on the transformational drug market, it was Metamorphose. She wasn’t usually one to treat her clients to on-the-house extras, but Ethan was the exception: he was about as close to a real lover as a woman like her had time for and quite frankly she would have let him fuck her for free if he’d actually thought to ask.
‘Hey baby, you see that syringe,’ she said between her groans. ‘I bought it for you. Consider it a get well soon gift. One shot of that and my cock will be hard as steel and even longer than yours. I’ve seen you at your orgies – you’re just as addicted to cock as I am. You cum hardest when you’re the one being fucked by a big thick dick. So here’s a challenge for you: if you can make me assgasm hard enough that I squirt, then I’ll return the favour.’
The change that came over Ethan was instantaneous. Since she had arrived he had been his usual roguish self, indulging in her body with that mischievous smile she knew so well. But it seemed the promise of exchanging roles had sparked something in him and now his whole attitude changed.
Dragging her down onto the bed he pushed her onto her back firmly. There was a determination in his eyes now, his gaze so keen she flinched as he looked at her. She could almost see his mind turning over all the ways he could use her, that piercing stare analysing her body one erogenous zone at a time. After a few seconds he gripped her thighs and spread them apart, baring her hole and flopping her little cock back onto her stomach. Then he was driving inside and raw orgasmia rushed through her.
‘Oh fuck,’ she gasped, her eyelids fluttering as he pressed on her P-spot. ‘Oh my fucking god. That feels amazing. I don’t know if I can take much of you fucking me that way.’
Indy had never seen a grin more wicked than the one Ethan gave her then. And somehow the devilish intent in his expression made everything ten times hotter. ‘Of course you can’t, bitch. That’s the idea. Did you really think after all the times I’ve hired you I wouldn’t have figured out how to drive you wild? Behind the roleplay you’re still a hedonist just like me, and you have turn-ons you can’t resist. And now I’m going to use them to blow your mind.’
Indy’s pulse quickened. Fuck, I hadn’t thought of that.
There was no performance in Indy’s shrieks once he began fucking her. His hands planted behind him and his knees flanking her hips, he pitched his hips forwards over and over again. His huge cock slid in and out of her hole at a rapid pace, but for Indy everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The sensation was so intense her mind struggled to process it. As her mouth fell open with a perpetual groan on her lips, her face froze in an expression of concerned bliss as though she wasn’t quite sure if the pleasure was going to send her mad. And all at once she began to wonder if perhaps she might have bitten off more than she could chew.
Then again, that was why Ethan was her favourite client: she didn’t have to act with him. Not that she would have ever told him that, of course – that kind of compliment would go straight to his head, and his ego was already almost as big as his cock.
Indy didn’t think much about her old life anymore. Quite frankly, she didn’t care about who she used to be. From her perspective, her life began on the night of her transformation and everything before was someone else’s life, as if she had possessed them, suppressed them, and moulded them into her dream body. Still, the memories of her transformation were crystal clear, and when she allowed her mind to drift and the pleasure to consume her, she found herself back in that room, back in her old body, the air thick with orgasmic moans while he at his card.
The Masquerader peered out at her from halfway behind an elaborate mask. In her eyes was a devilish gleam, while behind her a variety of costumes were just about visible, from a fitted policewoman’s uniform to the revealing leather harness of a Dominatrix.
The second she laid eyes on the woman, she could feel herself succumbing to the card’s corruptive magic. Bolts of lust seared through her mind, slutty cravings gnawing at the foundations of her psyche until her formerly arrogant, bratty persona crumbled away completely. Filling in the void came the new her: a shameless whore willing to take on any role necessary to satisfy her nymphomaniacal needs. So long as she was getting fucked, she would happily adapt to suit the desires of her lover, whether that meant serving them as a demure slave, bouncing around like an airheaded bimbo, or playing the part of a naughty nurse.
As pleasure flooded her system and her new psyche took root, Indy smiled, her lips filling out into plump dick-sucking pillows as she did so. Then her physical metamorphosis struck hard.
Her tits inflated in barely a breath, ballooning from their original A cups to bulbous silicone Ds – a process which was soon mimicked by her ass. If she had still been wearing her sequined dress or skimpy underwear both would have snapped given the sudden expansion of her rump, but the card had seen to both of them and as the swelling continued she stood naked, fingers roving eagerly over her changing body. The abs of her formerly athletic body faded beneath a layer of soft flesh as her curves filled out still further; her entire face shifted as years of filler and surgical adjustments applied themselves all at once; even her nipples changed, her areola enlarging with a tingling sensation.
But that tingle soon paled in comparison to the electric thrill that zipped across her skin as the ink assailed her. A barrage of tattoos appeared almost at once, the outlines coming in first before filling themselves in. On the crest of her tits and down her cleavage and across her throat and astride her shoulders and down her arms; the word Beauty following the curve of her right eyebrow; a Day of the Dead skull on one thigh and the word FUCKDOLL flanked by flowers across her lower midriff; the individual letters of DOLLFACE spread across the fingers of both hands, with an additional small design on each ring finger – one a love heart, the other a crucifix. With each one she seemed to become more bitchy, the sudden explosion of sultry body art giving her the air of a shameless deviant rather than a plastic bimbo.
As the last tattoo settled, she felt sure there was nothing more to change. But her long hair had just finished bleaching itself when she gave a groaning cry. For a few eternal seconds she was convinced she was about to burst with ecstasy. When at last the orgasmia ebbed, she looked down to find her pussy gone and a little cock nestled between her fleshy thighs. It was utterly useless, barely as long as her thumb and paired with little balls to match, yet instantly she couldn’t imagine herself without it. Her dicklet completed her and she had spent every day since savouring the pathetic sight of it flopping around as her clients took great pleasure in pounding her remaining holes.
And there had been no shortage of clients for her to fornicate with. Felicity had wasted no time in adding Indy to the small army of sluts and studs who made up the room service menu. It was the perfect life for a woman who could play any role her lovers craved; no matter what they wanted her to be, The Masquerader had given her all the tools she needed to effortlessly fulfil their desires. It was as if she could simply slip into a new mindset – with a single thought she wouldn’t just roleplay as a dumb bimbo or a fierce Domme, she would become them.
With skills like that, Indy Ink had soon become an infamous name amongst Metamorphose’s regular deviants. Some people even visited purely to spend time in her arms – or rather, her holes.
Indy knew her popularity would only increase once word got out that she could return the favour. There were plenty more Metamorphose guests like Ethan who were just as eager to receive a hard fuck as they were to give one, and she had already tested her cock-enhancing drugs with a few of her fellow nymphos on the room service team. Needless to say, it had been a very horny experience.
After she had railed him, Indy knew full well Ethan would never be able to keep his mouth shut about it. He was better advertisement than a billboard in Times Square. By tomorrow morning her diary would be full for months in advance, ensuring she had access to all the cock and pussy she could possibly want.
Still, she would always have time for Ethan. And right now she was quite happy to simply lose herself to the pleasure. After all, she had enough stamina and self-control to fuck for ages without cumming – plenty of time for him to fuck her brains out as he attempted to make her squirt.
‘That’s it, baby,’ she purred, reaching back to part her ass wider, ‘use me hard. Fuck me like you’re paying for it.’ An impish giggle danced on her tongue. ‘Oh wait, you are…’
Thanks for reading!
Okay, so the reason there were three stories this week not two is because this one kind of wasn’t supposed to exist. My original plan was to have eight stories – enough for every Monday and Friday of the month – plus a prologue.
But the galleries I had picked out were all focused on cis female models. I was just off the back of writing all my Christmas stories, during which time I wasn’t feeling drawn to trans or gay stories, but once I started writing these ones I realised that interest was back again. So off I went looking for one of each to include in Luck of the Draw. At the time I had two galleries that were very similar lined up, so I replaced one with the gay scene which eventually became Part 6. But I didn’t want to cut out any of the others, so I chose to add this one in as an extra story instead.
I’m really glad I did because Nadia Love isn’t like any other trans model I’ve written for before. I love her alt look and I think she has some really hot scenes. This one really jumped out at me though and sparked the idea for Raunchy Room Service which I think is a great addition to the Metamorphose lore.
Anyway, the final story of the series comes out on Monday, and it’s probably my favourite of the bunch.