Models: Winter Jade & Rob Piper
The master of the house stood naked at the foot of the bed watching his new lover emerge from the husk of her old body like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
Most of those whose souls he burned panicked or screamed as they transformed. But the slim thirty-something woman whom Fan-Ah had guided into his chambers tonight simply lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the dark rafters with wide, teary eyes. Given how drunk she was it was entirely possible she hadn’t even noticed the dark cracks spreading across her body.
From where he stood, she looked like a porcelain doll being assaulted by a hammer. Dark fissures embraced her like a mermaid caught in a net, slicing across her flesh and clothes alike in jagged lines. There was no blood in the cracks, only a shifting darkness as though something unseen was moving just beneath. After centuries of watching the same transformation countless times over, the master knew it was a painless process.
One final tear slid down the woman’s fractured cheek. Then she shattered.
As if smashed by one final blow, the fragments of her old body fell away – her long, dark hair, her tanned figure, her silvery sequined dress – crumbling first into a fine layer of dust before dissolving into absolutely nothing.
The woman beneath was entirely different. Her curves were fuller, swooping in soft, sumptuous lines that immediately had the master itching to grope her. Her once thin lips were now plump and juicy, her formerly slender features wider and more innocent. Matte black nails were replaced by sharp crimson claws that gleamed in the light of the bedside lamp, and with her gorgeous body now completely naked the master noticed a cute little heart tattooed just above her left ass cheek.
Still, even the master had not expected the stunning shade of her hair. Tumbling down over her narrow shoulders was a glossy purple torrent. Starting out as indigo at the roots it descended through a cornucopia of shades down to tips barely a breath away from magenta.
Unnatural as it seemed, this was the new woman’s natural colour and the master supposed he should not have been surprised: when he had offered her his tarot cards she had drunkenly drawn The Fae, which had a habit of weaving a little mischief into the transformations it induced.
The master smiled: he enjoyed surprises. After centuries of life, it was good to know he had not yet seen everything.
‘Well, there is only one name I can possibly give you, beautiful,’ he said as he sank onto the bed, his immense cock beginning to rise. Gently, affectionately, he ran the back of his fingers over one of her pale cheeks. ‘It’s okay, Violet. I promise you will never have to cry again.’
The master’s touch stirred Violet into life. She stretched her delicate limbs and smiled as though waking from a pleasant dream. There was an impish gleam in her eye as she admired the huge black bull looming over her.
‘Hello sir,’ she purred.
‘You look gorgeous tonight, my love,’ he replied smoothly.
Violet giggled. ‘That’s because I am. I’m also horny too. But as they say, actions speak louder than words, so let me show you just how badly I want you.’
Rising to her knees, Violet coiled one crimson-nailed hand around his cock and began to stroke. Her skin was warm velvet, gliding over the length of his shaft with a feather-light touch. She made sure none of his length went unloved, caressing from the crown of his head all the way to the thick, hard root, and even massaging his balls every so often for good measure.
As his dick rose, she leaned in close and pressed her forehead against his. His breath tickled her lips as she stared deep into his mesmerising eyes – eyes that had witnessed more than she could possibly imagine – and she inhaled his scent hungrily. Through his cock she could feel the lustful energy aching to break free.
She brushed her lips against his. Then she smiled, refusing to kiss him.
‘You really an impressively naughty little tease, aren’t you?’ the master breathed.
‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’
‘Of course I do. But only those I love.’
‘So everybody in this house then?’ Violet said, shifting closer so that her breasts rubbed against his broad barrel chest and she was stroking his cock vertically, the shaft nestled in the gap between her soft stomach and his hard abs.
‘Naturally,’ the master smiled, one hand sinking down to squeeze her plump ass.
Although the memories of her old life had not been completely wiped away, they were indistinct, like words written in chalk smeared across a blackboard by a singular swipe of the rubber. New memories had been written over the top – new wants and needs and desires. Her new persona was rooted firmly into her psyche, but only she could willingly reject her old life completely.
‘Is it strange that I find that hot?’ There was a little trepidation in her voice. ‘Just the thought that this cock has stretched countless women in countless beds under countless night skies, making them moan and gasp and beg for more; that these lips have made out with more lovers than any man could ever dream of; that this body has pressed against pantheons of adoring acolytes… I feel like it shouldn’t turn me on this much. But it does. Knowing that you chose me to join them… I… I’m so wet for you…’
Her voice trailed off, her breathing suddenly shallow.
Lifting one hand to Violet’s shoulder and hooking the other gently in the fold of her knee, the master smiled wickedly. ‘How about you let me help you with that?’
Before Violet knew what had happened, she was on her back. Sweeping her legs from under her with one hand, the master used his grip on her shoulder with the other to drive her down amongst the pillows.
Giggling with delight, she looked down to find his handsome face just above her crotch. His huge hands parted her fleshy thighs, her twinkling pussy suddenly vulnerable.
There was a devilish gleam in his eye as her breath caught in her throat, the realisation of what he was about to do making her stomach flip. ‘You know, if there’s one thing I love more than being worshipped by a beautiful woman like you, it is taking the opportunity myself to worship her body.’
And that’s exactly what he did.
The sound Violet made when her master’s lips pressed against her sex was somewhere between a shriek and a burst of delirious laughter. Her thighs and stomach tensed so hard she was trembling, but at the same time her upper half went limp and for a second she believed she was going to melt away completely.
Her eyes rolled. Her jaw fell open. Pleasure consumed her.
Every stroke of the master’s tongue stole Violet’s breath away. Although this was their first night together, he knew every inch of her body – every curve and line and turn-on point – as if he had spent a lifetime exploring it. Of course, she knew he had spent centuries honing his skills as a lover on more women than she could comprehend, but she also knew he was guided by more than mere experience. The connection they shared was deeper than that. The way he weaved his tongue, the way he slid his huge hands over her body squeezing her soft flesh with just the right level of pressure: every motion he made was tailored to her and her alone, intended to play on the unique desires of her new body.
He was not simply stimulating her physical form, he was satisfying her soul. He knew her in a way no other man ever could, and as arousal swamped her mind she gripped the bedsheets tightly, unsure how much more of this ecstasy she could tolerate.
Violet’s eyes were glazed and distant as her head lolled to one side, but she could just about make out the Eiffel Tower looming through the window. The monument stood proud and twinkling in the Parisian night and she liked to think that someone high on the viewing platform was peering through their binoculars at her, unable to tear their gaze away as she writhed and gasped.
Her back arced as the master’s tongue brushed a particularly sensitive spot, and when she slumped down again she was staring through the opposite window at a very different view: Rio de Janeiro was spread out beneath them, a riot of colour, light and music. Carnival was in full swing, a parade marching through the packed streets, but that was no surprise – master loved the event more than any other, so the door to Rio always opened to Carnival, no matter the time of year.
She hoped once they were finished here they could go hunting for a new lover amongst the revelling crowds together. She could imagine luring an entire group of partying friends back to the master’s house, then subjecting them to the exchange one by one, their groans filling the air as they began to transform…
But before she could imagine anything further Violet’s thoughts were shattered.
Once again, the master manhandled her into position, pulling her up onto her knees then driving her forward. With one powerful hand gripping her by the elbow, he held her just above the bed, her vibrant hair cascading down in purple curtains across the white sheets.
For a heartbeat, her saturated pussy was exposed and vulnerable. One hand played with her clit through the tuft of purple pubes crowning her sex.
Then the master was inside her, his immense length driving in deep, and her world burst at the seams – it felt as if he went on forever, every inch intensifying her arousal exponentially. Her ass rippled with his powerful thrusts, her entire body juddering as each roll of his hips stretched her to her limits.
Violet wanted to scream. She wanted to shriek and howl and wail – anything to try and articulate the mind-bending pleasure roaring through her. But nothing she could say could possibly put her euphoria into words and no sound would come. Instead, completely overwhelmed, her consciousness shut down: her eyes glazed over, her expression went blank, her body became pliant and yielding like a posable doll. In that moment, Violet willingly rejected the last few memories of her old life and allowed her man to use her as a living sex toy.
Looking down at her, the master smiled.
It was strange to think that only minutes ago Violet had thought her life was over.
When he had sent Fan-Ah to seduce the rich and the powerful, he had assumed she would lure bankers and businessmen to his chambers, perhaps even the odd politician or celebrity.
What he had not expected was for her to go after their wives as well. During their first night together, Fan-Ah had clearly taken his words to heart when he had admitted to his love for transforming the rejected and the outcasts, because she had immediately set about manipulating wealthy couples into joining the master in his life of immortal lust.
Advertising herself as an escort for the upper echelons of society, Fan-Ah would effortlessly seduce the greediest men into her embrace, playing on their desires until they were falling over themselves to cheat on their trophy wives. Once she had a man under her spell, she would wait until just the right moment before allowing his wife to capture them in the act, then slip quietly away as the screaming and arguments commenced.
Eventually, the wife would storm out in hysterics, at which point Fan-Ah would approach them professing her sincerest apologies. She would assure the wife her husband had said her was single, that she would never knowingly become involved with a married man, that she could never forgive herself for breaking the wife’s heart this way.
Then she would lead them to the master’s house, plying the distraught wife with drink at various bars along the way. By the time Fan-Ah guided the wife into the master’s chambers, she had won their trust and forgiveness, had even persuaded them to admit that they never truly loved their greedy husband in the first place. Drunk and devastated, they would idly pick one of the master’s tarot cards – and with that all their worries would slip away and the master would provide them with the love and pleasure they had always deserved.
Violet had been one of those wives. She had been a trophy, nothing more. And like so many women before her who had fallen victim to Fan-Ah’s manipulations, she would never stop thanking the beautiful Lust-Stealer for guiding her into the master’s arms.
Even now, Fan-Ah was back with Violet’s husband, luring him back to the master’s house as well. Whereas the wives Fan-Ah seduced were allowed to choose their fate from the master’s cards, the husbands were punished for failing to satisfy their former spouse – Violet’s husband would be transformed into her obedient handmaid, destined to serve her however she desired for eternity.
Once he transformed, the first thing Violet’s former husband would be forced to do would be watch and edge herself as Violet thanked Fan-Ah in the most intimate of ways for guiding her into this new life of endless pleasure.
But right now the only thing that mattered was the master. She wanted to prove she deserved his love – and she could think of no better way to do so than to make love to him in the position she knew he loved best.
Moving with the speed only a horny woman can, Violet pulled away before sweeping up and seizing her master by the shoulders. Despite his immense size compared with her slender physique, he had not expected her to turn the tables on him and before he realised what was happening she had thrown him down onto his back, his huge cock jutting up like a flagpole.
Straddling his crotch in, Violet planted her feet behind his spread knees and her hands across his barrel chest. Lowering herself so her pussy nestled over the head of his cock she groaned, fighting the urge to drop down and take his full length.
‘I love you, sir,’ she breathed, peering over her shoulder at him. ‘You’ve set me free, and I will never stop loving you for that.’
The master’s hands rose to grasp her hips, his skin hot against hers. ‘And I promise you’ll never feel unloved again, beautiful. Now ride me, my love. Let your desire consume you. Fan-Ah will be here with your husband soon, so let’s make sure the last thing he ever sees is you riding me with my cum leaking from all your holes.’
‘Yes sir,’ Violet smiled, sinking down and laughing with ecstasy as she surrendered herself to an eternity of immortal lust…
Thanks for reading!
So as we all know at this point that timeliness isn’t exactly a strength of mine. And this story is a prime example of that. Just over a year ago I put out a tweet asking if there were any of my stories people would like a sequel for and I had a few responses. I’ve done several of them, although there are still more to come out. One of those requests came from Mira, (@MiraMoaned on Twitter) who suggested I should continue an old story called The Exchange Student. That’s where this idea began.
Rather than follow the initial concept of transforming another exchange student, I decided to adapt this into something a bit different. I’ve done stories before where the same female model appears across multiple instalments, but for this one it really felt like I should flip the script. Having Rob Piper’s character as the connective tissue between stories just felt right, and I really loved returning to his character and the special brand of depravity found in the master’s household.
I have retroactively changed the title of The Exchange Student so it now falls under the Immortal Lust banner. If I add more to this storyline in the future that’s the title they’ll all share and I like the idea of each story being named after the kind of person the master transforms in the same way the past two have.
Having said that, I don’t see this getting regular additions. I really love the concept, and I definitely want to do more, but I think the big gap between this and the first story really helped motivate me to make this one great when I finally came back to it. So although I’ve added Immortal Lust to my list of serials, I expect it will only get new additions every so often. Especially because I have other sequels for other stories on the way.
However, I always love a challenge. So if you have any ideas of who the master can transform next, or maybe a Rob Piper scene you particularly like, send them my way! I won’t get to them straight away, but hopefully this story proves that I will do so eventually.