The Minx With A Mouth

Models: Ryan Ryder, Angel Smalls & Holly Hendrix

Wade had earned a break. Granted his boss hadn’t actually told him he’d earned it, nor did the huge stack of comics waiting to be shelved suggest he’d put in the effort to deserve one. But given the lack of customers Wade figured it was the perfect time to relax a little and read some of the merchandise.

Flipping through the to-be-shelved pile, he picked out an issue with a particularly raunchy cover of a scantily clad sorceress floating above a crowd of beautiful women all reaching up as if desperate to touch her. The title named the stunning witch as The Fabulous Fantasiatrix!

Slumped on the old leather sofa in the reading corner, Wade unsurprisingly paid much more attention to the provocative art than the actual plot. All he really picked up was that the Fantasiatrix was equal parts mischievous, sordid and corruptive, and possessed magic capable of warping reality to her liking – magic she gleefully shared with her fiendish followers.

In fact, Wade was so busy ogling the Fantasiatrix and her followers that he never noticed they were more than just drawings. He never saw the sorceress turn to face him while he eyed her heaving tits; never spotted her raise her hands as he stared at her bare thighs; never saw her devious grin as he was gawked at her incredible curves. Only when crackling purple magic burst from the pages and engulfed Wade’s body did he realise this was no ordinary comic book – but by then it was already far, far too late.

Knocked back, Wade could do nothing as the magic invaded his body. It poured in through his eyes and mouth and once inside it rapidly spread to every extremity. For several seconds his skin glowed so bright he was nothing more than a beacon of purple light – and when it faded Wade wasn’t Wade anymore.

In those few brief moments he had regressed to less than half his original size. Once tall and lanky, now he bore a slim, petite feminine figure. Any excess weight had shifted around to his ass and thighs, while a pair of soft, perky tits were just about visible beneath the excessive bagginess of his t-shirt, which the magic had ripped in a stylish manner but otherwise left untouched.

‘Untouched’ was not a description that could be applied to the rest of his outfit, however. Camo green hotpants and ziz-zag patterned mesh tights had replaced his frayed jeans, hugging legs as shapely as they were smooth; a lace thong took the place of his boxers, the close-fitting underwear hugging his equally tight new pussy; the fingernails he used to compulsively bite were suddenly perfect and painted in purple varnish; meanwhile his new body bore various modifications, including belly, tear and ear piercings, as well as several tattoos across his chest and shoulders. His hair – twice as long as before and dyed a wine-red so deep it was almost black – draped in a sleek bob around soft, innocent features, the lips of which glistened with pink gloss.

Hopping to her feet before the last of the purple glow had faded, the new woman immediately began exploring her new body. Snatching the bottom of her too-big shirt she slid it up and down while wiggling her hips, giving glimpses of her toned midriff and pierced navel as she did so.

Although in truth, she wasn’t only exploring herself. She was putting on a show – a show purposefully aimed at one person in particular. 

‘Hey, you. Yeah, you – the one reading this story. That’s right, I know you’re there. You like what you see? Bet you wish that magic jumped out through the screen and gave you this hot body, don’t you? Or maybe you just wanna kiss every inch of me before driving me down and fucking me into this sofa right here. Either way, I think you’re going to enjoy the rest of this story.

‘I’m Gwen, by the way. Yeah, you read right – I’m called Gwen and the old me was called Wade. Real original choices, right? Of course, any similarity of our names to any actual fictional characters is purely coincidental – nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

‘As you can tell, Fetishes and Fantasies isn’t exactly a whiz kid when it comes to naming characters. But lucky for both you and me, they did dream up this little slice of smut. So how about you sit back and enjoy while I show you what a reality-warping nympho can do.’

Just then, Gwen heard footsteps in the hall behind the cash desk. Grinning your way, she theatrically raises a hand to her ear. ‘My, my who could that be? It sounds to me like Wade’s boss – how awfully convenient he chose this exact moment to enter the story.’ With a devious wink she turns to face the approaching footsteps just as Peter enters the room.

‘Oh, hello madam,’ he said. Looking around his lip curled as he noted Wade’s absence. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Is there anything I can help you with?’

Gwen gives you a mischievous sideways glance. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Though I’m going to have to make some improvements before we get to business. Now, get over here.’

With a snap of Gwen’s fingers, Peter was suddenly in front of her. His eyes wide and bewildered, his expression twisted with panic as he tried and failed to process the magic that just transported him halfway across the room without him taking a single step. Tall and broad as he was, he was instantly terrified of the sweet, petite beauty standing before him.

‘Please, lady, I–’

Gwen cut him off with a raised finger and a sharp tongue. ‘Ah, ah, no talking. I don’t need you to talk. I need you to do as you’re told. So be a good boy and shut up while I make you my plaything.’

The effect of her words were instantaneous. As if the very concept of resisting her had been stripped from his mind, Peter visibly relaxed and fell obediently silent. He simply stood waiting, ready and willing for Gwen to do as she pleased.

‘Okay, so first off we’re going to need you younger,’ she said, analysing the shop owner’s body like a fashion designer assessing her new star model. ‘Don’t get me wrong gramps, I’m all for the silver fox look, but personally I’m craving a young, hung stallion right now, so younger it is. Then you’ll be needing some muscles, better looks, more hair, a nice thick dick – oh yeah, and plenty of stamina too.’ As she spoke Gwen checked off each point on her fingers as if reciting a shopping list.

Soon enough the corrupted slut had formed an image in her mind of the man she wanted. And with the powers of the Fantasiatrix at her fingertips, bringing that image to life was simple as one, two…


Peter’s transformation was instantaneous. One second Gwen was looking at the surly-faced middle-aged man, with his thinning grey hair and slight stoop; the next there was a bright flash of purple light, and when it faded a completely new man stood before her.

Moulded to suit Gwen’s desires, this new Peter was utterly unrecognisable. He stood almost a head taller than before, with a broader frame and an upright posture. A broad brow, deep soulful eyes, and a robust jaw lined with a fine layer of stubble collectively composed a far more handsome appearance than before, though his face remained fixed in the same blank expression. Gone were his faded classic rock t-shirt and baggy jeans, replaced by a simple grey tee, black blazer and grey trousers, and even though none of his clothing was fitted the impressive figure hidden beneath was still obvious to see from the way his t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, not to mention the noticeable bulge at his crotch.

Pressing her petite body close to him Gwen looped one hand around his neck while the other descended to massage his groin. Although he continued to look past her, instinct drew one hand to hold her flank while the other sank to cup her perky ass.

She turns to face you with a knowing smirk. ‘Something tells me you’re going to enjoy this next bit. Just not quite as much as I will. What do you think – should I take my time with him? Or should we skip straight to the part where I feast on this big fat cock?’

She pauses, grinding against Peter as she does so. Then her smirk spreads into a smile. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

With a click of Gwen’s fingers time becomes a blur. Like a VHS on fast forward their passion rushes by, sped up until only snatches of images are visible. What might have been sensual kissing at normal speed becomes frantic and wild, set to a soundtrack of wet make-out noises increased in pitch by the acceleration. Kissing becomes groping, groping becomes stripping – though before things can go too far another snap resumes the scene.

Back in real time Gwen lets out a shuddering breath. ‘Well, that was fun.’ She nods at the clock hung above the cash desk. ‘Check it out. Half an hour of pleasure in just a few seconds. Talk about a rush.’

Her shirt now on the floor, Gwen ran her hands over her bare tits and down her curves with a satisfied smile. That smile grew into an impish grin as she eyed her lover, who was now sat on the sofa naked from the waist down, his flagpole cock jutting up and glistening with precum.

‘Now then, babe – where were we?’

Gwen wasn’t expecting an answer – after all, the overriding command for him to stop talking had persisted through his transformation. Even so, even if Peter had been able to respond, she didn’t give him any time to do so. Instead she dropped to her knees, planted her soft hands on either side of his rigid rod, then greedily bowed her head to swallow as much of his impressive length as she could in one go.

A muffled groan seeped through the seal of her lips and her eyes rolled as slutty euphoria flooded her thoughts. The magic of the Fantasiatrix pulsed through her, rewarding her fiendish depravity with flares of pleasure that churned through her insides, making her stomach flip, her heart thump, her pussy squirm. High on lust, she remained latched onto Peter’s dick for several seconds, the erotic ache of his shaft stretching her narrow throat drawing out another slurping moan.

Then, with her tongue coiled around her new favourite meal and her small hands pinning Peter’s hips down with unnatural strength, the corrupted slut was consumed by a single urge: feed.

Any ordinary man would have been crippled by the oral assault Gwen unleashed on Peter’s cock. Yet thanks to Gwen’s control Peter’s mind was empty, ensuring that the soul-ripping waves of pleasure simply washed over him unnoticed like oil on water.

Even so, it was clear that Gwen was having enough fun for both of them.

‘Holy shit,’ she gasped when she eventually came up for air. Continuing to jerk him off with one hand, she used the other to wipe away the precum-laced saliva smearing her lips and chin before licking her fingers clean. ‘I didn’t know it was even possible to be this horny. I could fucking choke on this cock and I’d die happy. I almost want to let you cum just so you fire your load down my throat.’

Gwen’s eyes glinted at the idea. Her body was tensed, the muscles in her bare back shifting beneath the skin as she fought the urge to go in for another bout of throat-stretching satisfaction.

But her mouth wasn’t the only hole in need of being filled by Peter’s perfect dick, and with magical lust raging inside her Gwen couldn’t resist the urge to ride him for even one second longer. She was so desperate to fuck that rather than go through the effort of stripping and mounting him, she simply raised her hand and skipped straight to the good part.


Gwen is no longer on her knees between Peter’s legs; Peter is no longer sat watching without emotion. Now he is lying lengthways on the sofa in just his grey tee, head on one of the sofa’s arms and feet on the other. Gwen is riding him, her hips bouncing in a frantic rhythm as she greedily takes his cock in her needy pussy.

Once again the time jump took Gwen’s breath away, though this time it came out as an orgasmic gasp as the sudden ecstasy of Peter’s cock invading her cunt seared through her. For several seconds she teetered on the brink of erotic delirium. Desperate for something to ground her she dived forwards and clung tight to Peter’s head, forcing her chest against his face in the process. Her embrace was so tight her entire body trembled.

Yet even as the pleasure threatened to drive her mad Gwen’s slutty instincts continued to drive her bouncing hips. With her supple ass rippling with every drop, her thighs clamped firmly around Peter’s waist, and her saturated sex wrapped like a glove around her lover’s dick, she was in a state of nirvana.

Her mind was so clouded with orgasmia in fact that it took quite some time before she remembered they had an audience.

‘Oh… hi,’ she pants as she turns to face you. She struggles to stop her eyes rolling, though even then her eyelids flutter furiously and it is difficult for her to focus. ‘Sorry… I kinda… forgot… you were there…’ With a deep, shuddering breath she manages to gather herself even while the slap of their colliding flesh continues to ring through the room.

‘What do you keep looking at?’ She glances down towards the edge of the frame. ‘Oh, shit, you can’t see the action can you? Hey, don’t blame me, blame Fetishes and Fantasies, they picked the damn pictures. Hold on, I’ll see if I can skip ahead and give you a better view.’

Reaching out, Gwen takes hold of the right-hand edge of the picture. Bracing herself for another jump, she tightens her grip before pulling hard. Like film running too fast over a projector the scene reels past in a blur. The momentum soon degrades, dragging the scene back to real time. When it resumes the lovers have moved again, with Peter in a seated position once more and Gwen straddling his hips. Only now he’s fucking a different hole.

Despite bracing herself, Gwen couldn’t prevent the delirious cry that ripped from her lips once time slowed down. The sensation of Peter’s dick burrowing into her tight ass filled her with an entirely different kind of pleasure than having him in her pussy and it was pushing all her buttons. The erotic ache made her feel naughtier, sluttier, more depraved – all of which she knew the Fantasiatrix would encourage. Indeed, the harder she bounced on his cock and the deeper he invaded her hole, the hornier she became.

Within seconds Gwen found herself wondering if this was what heaven felt like.

She turns her attention back to you, though her eyes dance around you, unable to focus properly. ‘There. Now you can really see the goods. You happy now?’ A giggling whimper escapes and she bites her lips as her entire body trembles. ‘If not, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do – no way am I skipping ahead again. This feels far too good to waste. Like seriously… I can’t… he’s so big… and so deep… and so… fuuuuuck…’ She trails off, her jaw falling slack as Peter drives in particularly deep and fucks her brains to mush.

After that Gwen felt herself sinking into a state of mindless erotic euphoria. Flooded with raw lust and encouraged by the rewarding thrill of the Fantasiatrix’s magic, she allowed carnal instinct to take over and proceeded to anally ride her stud as if her life depended on it. If there were still any echoes of Wade left in her psyche, the wild sluttiness that consumed her while speared on Peter’s dick quickly snuffed them out.

Her mind barely functioning, she didn’t pay much attention as they shifted from one position to the next. It was only when she felt her lover’s rod start to twitch that clarity came rushing back and she found herself bent over the sofa’s arm with Peter taking her from behind.

‘Cum for me, babe,’ she purred, rocking harder against his crotch in a needy effort to draw out his climax. ‘Cum all over my ass. Brand me like the slut I am.’

Under Gwen’s total control, Peter obliged immediately. Pulling out as his climax finally peaked his bucking cock fired across her bare rump.

But it didn’t last long. Over almost before it began, Peter’s orgasm amounted to nothing more than a single short burst and a groan of release.

After waiting for more that never came, Gwen turned around and peered down to see a splotch of cum slide over the curve of her ass and start its descent of her thigh, leaving a pearly trail in its wake. Unable to hold back her amusement, she laughed as she looked up at her breathless lover.

‘Wow, really? That’s all you’ve got, big boy? You know I figured it was a while since you last got laid, but I didn’t think you would’ve forgotten the basics. As a general rule it’s worth working up a big enough load that your girl can actually feel when you’ve finished.’

Turning to you, Gwen plants her elbow on the back of the sofa and rests her head on her hand. ‘I hope you know I blame you for this. I was so busy turning him into the hottest hunk I could conjure up I didn’t even think about giving him a bigger load. Sure, you might say I was just showing off, but look at it this way: if I didn’t have anybody to show off to then I wouldn’t have been so distracted, would I? I hope you spend your night thinking long and hard about what you’ve done.’

Peter’s handsome face was as impassive as ever as Gwen hopped to her feet and circled him just as she had before his first transformation.

‘I’m sorry, big guy, but I’m going to have to make some more changes. I mean I love a big-dicked hunk as much as the next magical nymphomaniac – the thing is you only get one first impression, and you blew it. So even if I zapped the mother of all loads into those big balls, every time we fucked all I’d be able to think about is that pitiful spurt you just did. And that’d just be a huge fucking buzzkill.’

All at once Gwen was pressed up against his chest, their hot skin rubbing together and her pretty face twisted with a devious grin. ‘Lucky for you I have a solution. See I might not have use for you as a bull, but I can’t run this place by myself and I could do with a co-owner. A very hot, very slutty, very magical co-owner.’

Caressing Peter’s chiselled abs for the last time, Gwen let out a satisfied sigh as a vision of his new body took shape in her head. ‘I think I’ll call you Penny,’ she purred.

Raising a hand, she froze just before she snapped her fingers.

‘Oh no, I’m not having you distract me again,’ she says, jabbing an accusing finger in your direction. ‘Sorry hun, but I’ve got to concentrate, so this is one transformation you don’t get to watch. A word of advice though – this is a comic book story. So maybe it might be worthwhile sticking around after the credits.’ She casts you a conspiratorial wink. ‘Just saying.’

With that, Gwen pushes hard on the frame. Like a camera knocked from its mount, the image tumbles end over end before landing amongst the lovers’ discarded clothing. Neither Gwen nor Peter are visible as the image fades to black – though not before the shop is filled by a sudden flash of purple light…

Thanks for reading!

Who needs a fourth wall? As those of you who’ve been reading my work for a while will know, one of the things I love to do is explore ideas and concepts I haven’t used before, whether that’s in terms of the actual narrative of a story or the structural framework it is supported by. Which was why I enjoyed writing this one so much because it allowed me to mess around with both.

I’ll be the first to admit that this isn’t my most well-written piece – in fact I’d argue that it’s the weakest of the month in that regard – but to be totally honest that wasn’t really a big deal to me for this one. What mattered more was simply the fun factor when writing, and this story provided that in spades. The chance to not just break the fourth wall but more or less remove it entirely by having an effectively omnipotent character in total control of the story just had me grinning throughout most of the writing process, particularly given that I’m a comics fan myself.

Hopefully you enjoyed this one as much as I did. And if I were you I’d heed Gwen’s last words: after all, what would a comic story be without a post-credits scene? Or rather, given that this is a written story, a postscript scene?

Image galleries:


The doorbell jingled merrily as Mike entered the comic store. It was a sound he knew well, having been a regular visitor for the past ten years: Peter’s shop was practically a second home at this point and he knew the layout like the back of his hand.

Much less familiar were the two beautiful young women in one of the aisles.

Mike knew all of Peter’s other customers, but these two were new. One had dark hair, golden skin and an impish smile, with fishnet stockings and green shorts hugging her legs and ass while a sleeveless black top showed off her shoulder tattoos; the other had her dirty blonde hair tied back, pale skin smooth as fine china, and a sultry body accentuated by a tight two-tone t-shirt and denim hotpants.

Both women eyed him with a bit too much mischief for his liking. They held each other close, both a little breathless, and Mike was struck with the realisation they had just stopped kissing.

‘Hey there,’ purred the first woman while still holding her friend tenderly. ‘Peter isn’t here right now, but we’re his new hires.’ She and her friend shared a snigger, though Mike couldn’t think what they found funny.

The second peered at Mike over her glasses. ‘We’ve got some new arrivals in this week. You should check them out,’ she said, pointing to the display in front of him.

The display was new and as Mike took a closer look he noticed all the issues on show were part of the same comic series: The Fantasiatrix. Picking the closest one he admired the cover art – a scantily clad witch firing bright purple magic at a startled looking man. Beneath the main title was written the name of the issue: The Bull Maker.

‘Looks interesting. What’s it about?’

Their impish eyes glittered even brighter than before.

‘You’ll just have to read it and find out for yourself,’ said the one in glasses.

‘Don’t worry, you’re going to love it,’ added her friend.

Though a little unnerved by their hungry expressions, Mike nonetheless decided not to think about it too much and instead dropped down on the nearby sofa. He never noticed them slinking up behind him as he opened the comic, stripping off their clothes as they came. And by the time their soft hands came snaking over his shoulders to caress his body, Mike’s fate was already sealed – all he could do was gasp as bright purple magic sprang from the pages and engulfed him in an orgasmic embrace…

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