Models: Nyxi Leon & Saphira Blu
Niaz wasn’t much for mornings on the best of days. Fortunately, with the cosy bed all to himself and absolutely no reason to leave it, he’d happily ignored the morning as it passed by the window, choosing instead to enjoy the remarkable range of streaming services available on the wall-mounted plasma TV.
He’d left the room only once, around noon, on the important business of finding snacks, though even then he hadn’t bothered to change out of his pyjamas. At the time he hadn’t thought much of finding the kitchen deserted and had made the most of the quiet to raid the cupboards.
Still, by the time afternoon began bleeding into evening that excuse became harder to justify. Sure, not every member of the group were as quick to rebound from a night of drinking as he was, but none of them took this long to recover. At the very least he’d expected a text by now, yet his phone had been silent all day.
As a result, after binging half a season of his favourite show he finally gave in to his curiosity.
Abandoning the remote, he hefted aside the huge bowl of popcorn from his lap. ‘Whatever they’re all up to, it better be interesting,’ he muttered as he swung his legs off the bed. ‘Doubt it though. I bet they’re all downstairs arguing over who makes the best outfits.’
Niaz caught his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. His joints cracking audibly as he stretched, he cast himself a smug wink. ‘Probably why they didn’t invite me – don’t want to have to admit I put them all to shame.’
Although he had stored his suitcase just outside the walk-in wardrobe, now he strode straight past it and into the wardrobe himself; Niaz was always eager to experiment with new looks and styles, so once he realised his room was stocked with enough outfits to last him for several months, he hadn’t bothered unpacking anything except his pyjamas.
Rifling through the hangars, a delighted grin spread slowly over his features as he admired the variety of options available. Each new article of clothing sent his mind spinning with new ideas, but the end he settled on a pair of denim hotpants. The material was stylishly bleached in places, while the pockets were inlaid with sequins and the seams done in zigzag stitches. Better yet, the perfect compliment hung on the next hangar: a crimped yellow crop top bearing a floral pattern and frilled edges. Though clearly feminine in design, that didn’t bother Niaz – gender norms rarely played any part in what he chose to wear.
‘Just what every fashionable guy is wearing this fall,’ he smirked before returning to the bed and laying them on the sheets.
After grabbing a set of briefs from his case, Niaz promptly sloughed off his pyjamas and eagerly donned the new clothes. As he’d hoped, the hotpants were a satisfyingly snug fit, while the elasticated material of the crop top hugged his chest and midriff just as closely. Better yet, the cute ensemble boasted his lithe legs and hairless chest in equal measure, and immediately Niaz was compelled to seek out David just to see the look on his fuck buddy’s face when Niaz came strutting into view.
Before he could act on his urges, however, the magic of his new outfit acted on him instead.
A breathless gasp tearing from his lungs, he abruptly stumbling forward and clutched the frame of the mirror as a rush of pleasure surged through him.
Niaz was no stranger to desire; his metaphorical bedpost was more notch than wood, and there was rarely a night out that didn’t end with him tangled up in the arms of some deviant slut or sexy hunk. But the waves of arousal that washed through him then were like nothing he’d ever experienced – and one look at his reflection made it immediately obvious why.
Faster than he could even process, Niaz’s body was changing. Already his features were unrecognisable, his sockets shallower and cheekbones higher, while every line of his face from jaw to brow softened into a more feminine visage. In the blink of an eye his lids were brushed in sparkly gold shadow complemented by winged eyeliner, while his open mouth was suddenly framed with hot pink lipstick. As if to drive home the reality of his new appearance, his once bleach blonde hair came tumbling down in long, darkening waves cut into neat bangs across the brow even as the remainder cascaded halfway to his ass.
As his hair swept down, so did his transformation. Though already mostly shaved, what little body hair Niaz possessed abruptly vanished, leaving every inch of his rapidly feminising body soft and supple. In contrast, the athletic figure Niaz had acquired through many nights of sordid exercise was not erased but masked, his toned muscles concealed by feminine softness while remaining just beneath the surface. Soon his thighs were thick and cushioned, his ass was pressed even tighter against the confines of the shorts, and despite his predicament Niaz found himself grinning as his fleshy assets jiggled with every shudder of lust that rolled through him.
All at once a fresh burst of horniness bloomed across his chest. Caught off guard, Niaz groaned as a pair of perky tits stretched the bust of the crop top. His new rack was wonderfully sensitive, and even as the pleasure of transformation started to ebb the horny ache in his breasts would not be dulled.
His chest heaving and his mind foggy with arousal, Niaz felt the magic fade slowly. Only when he was sure it was gone did he let out the delirious giggles he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding in.
As a general rule, most of the people who wound up in Fantasy Manor’s unhallowed halls fell into one of two categories: those who deserved the chance to live out their unfulfilled fantasies, and those who deserved to be taught a lesson. Yet Niaz belonged to neither of these groups. Already a shameless sexual deviant, he had no inhibitions for the manor to break down, and though his nymphomania ensured he could never be described as a saint, neither was he a bully in need of comeuppance.
Instead, Niaz was already the perfect vessel for the mischievous manor’s sordid magic. And while it had not granted him the same corruptive power as Eliza, he simply didn’t need it; left to his own devices Niaz could brew up as much depravity with a wink and a whisper than the naughtiest reality-warping slut.
As such, it was no surprise that rather than panic Niaz instantly began exploring his new body. A few steps back towards the foot of the bed provided him with a much better view of his reflection – one he immediately exploited by twisting to the side in order to see all of his new assets. As he moved he realised his transformation had also bestowed him with a pair of tall denim heels that enhanced the curves of his already shapely legs.
‘I wonder if they put this in the brochure,’ he grinned. ‘Scenic views, luxury rooms, and complementary outfits that turn you into the sexiest little slut around.’
Feeling his tits, his grin grew wider still. ‘I could get used to this. And I guess it explains where everyone has been all day. Especially if they’re as horny as I am right now.’ Niaz gave a sigh of satisfaction as he slipped a hand into his hotpants… and found something unexpected.
‘Oh yes, I could definitely get used to this. Out with the Niaz, in with the…’ The new woman paused, a thoughtful expression on her face as she pondered her options. It didn’t take long. ‘Nyxi,’ she finished, a fiendish gleam in her eye.
Unlike Eliza, Nyxi was not able to see all the sinful things her friends were doing throughout the manner. Then again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that they too had been corrupted by the manor. All she had to do now was find somebody willing to let her release all the erotic energy pulsing through her soul.
To her delight, that person was closer than she thought. Because at the same moment she pivoted towards the door, a beautiful woman came stumbling in.
‘Well, well, well,’ Nyxi smiled. ‘What do we have here?’
Five minutes earlier
Stephen had been wandering the halls for some time before admitting he was lost.
Although he usually had a very good sense of direction, Fantasy Manor seemed to be an ever-shifting maze with a mind of its own. To make matters worse, since none of the rooms were numbered there was nothing to distinguish the door to his room from the countless other identical doors lining the halls, so it was entirely possible that he could have walked right past and never even realised.
You wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d gone on the hike. The intrusive thought caught him off guard and he ground to a halt.
Stephen sighed. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to go hiking. In fact, the idea was very appealing. But when invited he had politely declined for the same secret reason as always: Stephen didn’t feel like he belonged here anymore.
Although he’d been a member of the group since its inception, he had always felt a little separate from the rest. Ever since turning thirty that feeling had grown like a cancer to the point that now, five years later, it was an oppressive gloom that overshadowed every minute spent around his friends. He knew part of his discomfort was born of jealousy – many of the group lived the kind of wanton, carefree lives he’d often longed for but never experienced – though it was also a product of his own awkwardness. Stephen had always found it difficult to make friends, and he couldn’t quite fathom why anybody would want to spend time with him given how much he struggled to express his thoughts and emotions.
The fact that his friends did seem to like having him around was what made his current state of mind so distressing: these were the only real friends he’d ever had, yet for reasons he couldn’t explain he felt like he was drifting away from them.
He had quietly hoped that the holiday might help soothe his struggles, but the bonfire alone had drained him of most of his social energy. Fortunately, Stephen had found that art helped him both destress and recharge, so rather than join the hikers he’d opted to spend most of the day tucked away in a quiet patch of garden with just his sketchbook and pencils for company. To his delight the solitude had done wonders, and eventually he’d decided to head back inside, have a shower, and be ready to join the rest of the group for the evening once the hikers returned.
At least, that had been the plan.
It was only after standing there lost in thought for several minutes that Stephen noticed he had stopped in front of a huge mirror. Stretching almost from floor to ceiling, it was wider than his outstretched arms and sat in an ornate golden frame. Mounted on the wall beside it was a plaque bearing a short poem:
Gaze into me, and you shall see,
The dreams you always wished could be.
Stephen smiled sadly. ‘If only that were possible.’
Just as he was about to carry on the search for his room, however, Stephen noticed something strange about his reflection. Leaning closer to the massive looking glass his brow furrowed with confusion: he was wearing lipstick.
Tamping his lips together, his frown deepened as a sweet taste filled his mouth. ‘What the…?’
But Stephen never finished his question. Instead his words devolved into a breathless groan as he was engulfed by all-consuming pleasure.
Stumbling forward, Stephen automatically gripped onto the frame of the mirror. The sudden sensation was so intense that he didn’t even notice the bag of art supplies slip from his hand and land heavily at his feet, spilling pencils across the soft carpet.
Unaware that not very far away one of his friends was in the exact same position, Stephen could only watch and groan as the reflection looking back at him rapidly metamorphosised.
Before he even realised what was happening Stephen had lost several stone in weight. His broad, stocky frame looked as if it was deflating, thick limbs and barrel chest rapidly caving in on themselves. But what he lost in breadth he gained in height, for with the creak of elongating bones and stretching muscles Stephen grew by several inches, a process that left him feeling severely disoriented.
His head spinning, Stephen instinctively fixated on his reflection to try and ground himself, yet nothing about that was still either. His angular jaw, wide nose and tiny eyes were already gone, and as he watched they were replaced by a soft chin, pretty smile and the kind of eyes that could lure any lover into bed without uttering a single word. His scalp was similarly alive with movement as dark flecks appeared across his dust-brown buzzcut. Spreading like spilled ink, the flecks became patches, which themselves joined together before abruptly unfurling into a dark brown bob trimmed neatly around the chin of a face he no longer recognised as his own.
While the hair on his head had grown, everywhere else it had withered, leaving his slender figure bare and smooth. With his body hair gone, the feminised lines of his body were much clearer even through his masculine clothes – though they too were changing.
As if restitched by unseen hands, Stephen’s plaid shirt and khaki shorts quickly took on more delicate forms. Within seconds he was dressed in a loose white skirt worn high on both the waist and thigh, while a flowing long-sleeved top was tied by cords across his chest overlaying a pink corset-style bra decorated with floral print. The looseness of his new outfit allowed cool air to caress his sensuous body and Stephen found himself shuddering with the newfound sensitivity. He was so distracted that he barely even noticed the second surge in height that came as a result of his sandals reshaping into pink platform heels.
Stephen’s chest didn’t expand much to fill the bra, but the meagre inflation did nothing to stunt the arousal that throbbed across his chest as they grew – arousal which briefly eclipsed all other thought and forced him to grip the mirror even more tightly. In those seconds of euphoria a litany of finishing touches took form all across Stephen’s new body: twinkling silver piercings through his navel and nose; pastel pink varnish on every nail; bangles and anklets and a delicate chain necklace that complemented his innocent outfit, all while a number of fresh tattoos added a slight edge to his appearance.
When the transformation finally faded, the woman who used to be Stephen sagged against the mirror. Her mind was a haze of lust and confusion; every time she reached for a concrete thought it seemed to slip through her fingers before vanishing into the mental fog. Even her name eluded her.
She didn’t realise she was fumbling her way along the wall until her hand closed on the door handle. Before she knew it she had staggered into the room beyond.
‘Well, well, well. What do we have here?’
The voice cut through the new woman’s murky thoughts. When she looked up she found a lithe, raven-haired beauty staring back at her.
‘Or I guess I should ask who do we have here? I’m Nyxi. What’s your name, gorgeous?’
Like a bubble rising up from the depths, a name came to her. ‘Saphira. I’m Saphira.’
‘You look horny, Saphira.’
As if triggered by Nyxi’s words, what had initially been vague confusion now resolved itself into an almost crippling arousal that roared through Saphira’s soul. Weak at the knees, she struggled to stay upright as she eyed Nyxi needily.
‘Yes. Oh fuck, I am so, so horny. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve never felt this turned on in my life. It’s like I’m burning up.’ Saphira bit her lip as intrusive thoughts filled her head: thoughts of Nyxi’s lips on hers, of her eager hands stripping off Saphira’s clothes, of their hot skin pressed together.
Nyxi’s grin was wide and wicked. ‘Oh, how awful. Maybe you should let me help you put all that arousal to good use. Tell me, how much do you want a dick down your throat right now?’
Saphira’s stomach flipped at the idea. ‘More than anything,’ she whined.
Before Saphira had even answered, Nyxi’s hands were fiddling with her shorts. They fell to the floor to reveal her golden panties – and the growing bulge contained within. ‘Your wish is my command,’ Nyxi said, her eyes glittering with mischief.
Possessed by animal hunger, Saphira closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. She and Nyxi fell to the bed in a kissing, moaning heap. Blossoms of heat unfurled across Saphira’s body where their skin touched. Yet even the temptation to strip off and make out naked was no match for her need to taste Nyxi’s hard rod; no sooner had they hit the sheets than Saphira was working down, down, kissing any patch of exposed skin as she descended.
Then Nyxi’s crotch was in front of her face. With a frantic hand Saphira tugged down Nyxi’s underwear, released her pulsing she-cock, and promptly swallowed it whole.
Blissful satisfaction flooded her system. Though she could not explain why, every fibre of Saphira’s being was desperate for depravity and the forbidden taste of Nyxi’s womanhood on her tongue was like a reward for succumbing to her carnal desires. Clasping Nyxi’s soft thigh with one hand and reaching around to grope her ass with the other, Saphira assumed an eager rhythm that filled the room with wicked wet slurping. Giddy with delight, her raised feet swung back and forth as she fed.
Overhead, Nyxi giggled impishly. Peering down at her new lover through fluttering lids, her face was fixed in an almost maniacal grin and while one hand was planted firmly on the bedsheets to support her, the other slid under the hem of Saphira’s skirt to squeeze her plump cheeks.
‘Good girl. That’s it, gorge on my dick, baby. Mmmh, yes, you’re such a good little cocksucker. You need me down your throat so bad, don’t you?’
Unwilling to pull away for a reply, Saphira responded with a frantic nod of her head and a greedy groan as she swallowed Nyxi down to the base, drawing out another squeal of glee in the process.
Nyxi didn’t know for sure who Saphira used to be before, but she did have an educated guess. After her own transformation, the idea of going by a name far removed from that of her previous persona had felt strange to Nyxi and, while it was clear Saphira had no memory of her old life, she could only assume the woman’s new name was rooted in the same emotions. If that was the case then there were only three members of their group whose names began with S: Sean, Solomon and Stephen. With Sean unlikely to leave Emma’s side regardless of what bodies they were in, and Solomon no doubt still hiking, by process of elimination that made Stephen the most likely suspect.
And for some reason, that idea only turned Nyxi on all the more. Rising to her knees, she shuddered as Saphira followed her up, never missing a beat as she continued to feast. In her new position, Nyxi was able to roll her hips in time with Saphira’s rhythm and the increased depth provided by her thrusts sent flares of euphoria bursting through her insides.
‘Oh, fuck yes,’ Nyxi gasped, her fingers playing over her lips and her eyes fixed on the greedy slut below. ‘You’re so fucking good at that. So… fucking… good…’ Each word was punctuated by a forceful thrust down Saphira’s throat; by gripping her heels for leverage she was able to drive in balls deep.
Although Saphira hadn’t even been going down on her for more than a few minutes, Nyxi could already feel an addiction to the sensation taking root within her. Whether it was the devilishly devious idea that the insatiable cockslut below her might once have been Stephen, the group’s resident recluse, or the lingering thrill of her own erotic transformation, Nyxi couldn’t say – all she knew was that the longer she spent in this body indulging her lust, the less human she became. She felt as if she was devolving, losing herself to the whore inside. Soon she would be nothing but a vessel for all that sin.
But if Saphira’s slutty groans were anything to go by, Nyxi would have company on her descent into nymphomania.
All at once, a new desire hit Nyxi hard, and with it came a sudden clarity. ‘You really are good,’ she muttered under her breath. As she spoke her hands snaked up to the hem of her crop top. ‘But you’re not the only one with cravings, and I need to satisfy mine. Besides, if you’re who I think you are, I think you’ve been long overdue some personal attention.’
Whipping off her top, Nyxi pulled out of Saphira’s hot mouth with a pang of regret. But that guilt didn’t last long, replaced instead by a single-minded determination as she pushed her lover into a seated position. From there Nyxi’s deft fingers made short work of Saphira’s outfit; within a matter of seconds Saphira was completely naked save for her jewellery and heels. Nyxi’s heart somersaulted in response to Saphira’s rigid womanhood.
The next moment her tastebuds did the same.
Unlike her transformed friends, Nyxi required no magical assistance to become a worldclass cocksucker. In her former life she never had any preference about who she slept with – so long as they were hot, horny and up for a good time, she was happy to share the sheets with lovers of any gender identity – and as a result her oral skills needed no improvement.
Nevertheless, that didn’t mean she and Niaz had the same technique. In general, he preferred to take things slow and sensual, his eyes fixed on the face of his lover as he worshipped their sex – cock or cunt alike – and used their expressions of pleasure to guide his movements. But even though her transformation had left Nyxi’s memories untouched, the same could not be said for her self-restraint. With arousal infecting her very soul she could not resist the urge to gorge herself, and within seconds the air was thick with the sounds of her gurgling giggles as she needily throated Saphira’s twitching cock.
Above her, Saphira’s lips parted in a soft groan. Braced on her hands she instinctively rolled her hips in pursuit of the deepest recesses of Nyxi’s mouth. Her breath came deep and shuddering, her chest rising high and plunging low as she fought to stop herself hyperventilating.
Yet the longer Nyxi went down on her, the calmer Saphira seemed to become. As her breathing grew gradually smoother a blissful smile worked it’s way across her face, which itself then morphed into a naughty smirk.
‘Mmmh, yes, that’s it,’ she purred, her voice sweet as honey. ‘Feast on me, baby. I’m all yours. Don’t stop. Good girl. Mmmmh, yesss…’
Saphira couldn’t explain what was happening to her. The fog of confusion that had clouded her mind when she entered was slowly clearing, but as it dissipated she realised she couldn’t quite recognise the woman it revealed. Arousal bombarded her in an endless assault; every fibre of her being sang with ecstasy; the need for more consumed her.
Of course, it wasn’t hard to figure out what was driving her so wild – or rather, who.
Saphira imagined herself as a glass of water, pure and clear. In contrast, Nyxi’s presence was dripping ink: dark droplets that tainted the crisp water, spreading tendrils of desire and infusing Saphira with the same impish nymphomania that fuelled Nyxi herself.
In short, Saphira could feel Nyxi corrupting her. And she never wanted it to stop.
By now Nyxi was squirming with ecstasy. Legs writhing, tits jiggling, fingers a blur as she jerked her own dick frantically, the cock-hungry slut throbbed with mounting lust. On the rare occasion her fluttering lids opened enough to reveal her eyes, her gaze was distant and detached. The thrills of her oral frenzy – the erotic ache of her stretching throat, the repetitive thrill of her lips gliding down the shaft, the salty-sweet taste of precum-smeared flesh – were a potent enough combination on their own, but when paired with Saphira’s words of sultry encouragement, they had driven Nyxi to the brink of mindlessness. She was so close to going fully cockdumb she almost couldn’t resist.
But one thought still tethered her to reality: Saphira’s ass was yet to be filled. And the thought of popping her cherry was so deliciously depraved it eclipsed even Nyxi’s thirst for cum.
This time when Nyxi moved it was clear that she and Saphira were sharing the same thought, for rather than complain when Nyxi pulled away Saphira’s face instead lit up. Spinning around onto all fours she bounced her plump ass enticingly as Nyxi rose to her knees.
For a second Saphira heard Nyxi rummaging in a drawer, followed by the click of an opening bottle. The unmistakable sounds of lube being lathered on cock filled her ears, then Nyxi’s fingers were rubbing the slick fluid over Saphira’s winking hole.
Raising one leg to plant her foot beside Saphira’s knee, the raven-haired beauty closed warm hands around her hips and held her gently yet firmly in position. Saphira could feel the presence of Nyxi’s approaching hips, could already imagine the orgasmic ache of her anal muscles parting to accept her rod. Just the thought made her squirm.
But then Nyxi’s head was pressing against her hole and Saphira abruptly fell still.
Nyxi’s voice dripped with seduction. ‘Do you want my cock, baby? Do you want me to fuck this tight hole? Do you want me to make you moan like the naughty nympho you are?’
With her breath caught in her throat Saphira could only nod frantically. Facing away from her lover she did not see the devilish expression that crossed Nyxi’s face.
For one perfect moment she was sure Nyxi was about to fill her. But then, just when she was sure the anticipation would drive her mad, Nyxi tilted her hips down and abandoned Saphira’s ass entirely. Her cock slid into the cleavage of Saphira’s ass, the tip shifting to press against the brunette’s own balls.
All at once, Nyxi’s voice was in her ear, her stomach and tits pressing up against Saphira’s back. ‘And what if I say no?’
Saphira’s trapped breath finally escaped as something between a groan and a whimper.
As quickly as she descended Nyxi was upright once more. And she was thrusting too, the roll of her hips rubbing her shaft up against Saphira’s opening to draw more needy whines from her plaything. ‘What if I just stay here and tease your hole until you go mad from it? What if I torment you until you’re just dumb and hard and mindless? What would you do to make it stop?’
Too horny to answer, Saphira could only reach back to grip Nyxi’s leg while grinding her ass against the teasing slut’s crotch.
Nyxi wore a wicked grin as she watched her hookup pant and whimper. Of course, she was just as desperate to pound Saphira’s ass as Saphira herself was to be pounded. However, the longer they spent together the more convinced she became that the manor had bought them together for a reason. After all, in a building as big as Fantasy Manor the likelihood of Saphira stumbling randomly into Nyxi’s room was minimal at best – not to mention that she had arrived mere seconds after Nyxi herself had been transformed. What was more, if Saphira truly was Stephen then it seemed remarkably serendipitous that the most reclusive, introverted member of their friendship group just happened to run into the resident wild child.
To Nyxi’s mind, the coincidence was just too much. Instead she was convinced that the manor had done more than just transform Stephen: it had converted all his doubts and nerves into insatiable sluttiness, then delivered Saphira into the arms of the perfect person to teach her the pleasures of nymphomania.
The manor wanted Nyxi to corrupt Stephen’s new persona. And who was she to deny the will of Fantasy Manor?
While Nyxi continued to torment her, Saphira could already feel herself slipping into madness – just as Nyxi had predicted. The sudden denial had opened a void within her that had only grown wider the longer she had to endure her lover’s fiendish teasing, and it was eating up her sanity. The rest of the world faded away as her need to be fucked obscured everything else.
‘Anything, I’ll do anything; please, I need it, so bad, so deep, so hard; whatever you want, anything, please, just fill me, oh fuck, make me moan…’ As her pleading continued, Saphira realised she couldn’t stop. She was Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, falling forever deeper into euphoric madness.
Nyxi’s amusement was audible in her tone when she replied. ‘You know I think I like listening to you beg for me to make you my bitch. But there might be one other thing I want to hear you beg for.’ A pause as her hands gripped Saphira’s waist tighter. ‘I want to hear you begging for more.’
Delirious pleasure washed over both their faces as Nyxi finally sank into Saphira’s waiting hole. Her ass welcomed the invasion, and once inside Nyxi let out a shuddering groan as her rod was wrapped in a hot embrace. It felt as if Saphira was moulded just for Nyxi’s cock – which, given her theory about the manor intentionally bringing them together, probably wasn’t a coincidence either.
Yet Nyxi didn’t even manage one thrust in that position. No sooner had she slid inside than Saphira’s limbs buckled under the sudden influx of ecstasy. Unable to support herself she crumpled to the bed where she landed on her side, while Nyxi’s grip on her hips pulled her down too.
‘I guess we’ll have to work you up to doggystyle,’ Nyxi laughed. The collapse had caused her dick to fall free, but already she was moving to remedy that. Rolling Saphira onto her back she eased up against the brunette’s ass, raising her legs up and exposing her hole in the process. ‘But don’t worry, I’m a very good teacher.’
Then, once again wrapping her hands around Saphira’s waist, Nyxi truly began her transformed friend’s erotic education.
‘Oh fuck yes,’ Nyxi gasped. Her tits bounced with every thrust and each time she drove in a sunburst of euphoria flared through her groin. The repetitive slap of their colliding flesh was soon beating a sinful tattoo and she beamed down at Saphira with more than a hint of mania in her expression. ‘I could get used to railing this ass.’
Splayed out on her back, Saphira was sensually groping her tits. She wore an almost innocent smile as she peered up at Nyxi with eyes full of adoration. ‘So could I. I’ve never felt so horny. I can hardly think straight.’
‘Then don’t. Pretty sluts like you don’t need to think – you just need to moan. I know you want to let the pleasure take over. I can see it in your eyes.’ Reaching down Nyxi closed a hand around Saphira’s neck. ‘Why resist? Let your inner whore out. Moan for me, bitch. Moan.’ As she had been speaking, Nyxi’s pace had gradually increased until she was piledriving Saphira’s ass. Now every thrust sounded like a cracking whip and she leaned in close with eyes blazing. ‘I said moan!’
Flooded by carnal bliss, Saphira’s tether on reality frayed to a thread. Urgently grasping Nyxi’s arms, she somehow managed to cling to her senses, though it was clear from the frantic fluttering of her lids that she was on thin ice. Nevertheless, a mischievous smile slowly worked it’s across her soft, supple lips.
‘Is that what you’re going to do to me? Make me a whore?’
Despite her urge to continue fucking Saphira hard, Nyxi forced herself to slow her pace, keen for Saphira to hear every word of what she was about to say. Removing her hand from Saphira’s neck she shifted it to the edge of the bed as she leaned in closer.
‘Oh no, gorgeous, I’m going to do much more than that. I’m going to mould you into the neediest, naughtiest nympho you could possibly imagine. I’m going to twist you up with so much lust and depravity you won’t even recognise yourself by the end. You don’t realise it yet, but in this manor there are no limits to what fantasies we can explore together, and by the time I’m finished with you you’re never going to want to go back to the way things were before we met. Then, once I’ve warped you into the perfect little sex kitten, I’m going to invite some friends to come and help me use your holes.’
Nyxi had enjoyed enough hookups to know when her lover was on the edge of orgasmia – which of course meant she wasn’t going to relent now. Instead she went in for the killing blow.
‘Who knows – maybe we’ll even be able to find a cute pink chastity cage to lock up that cock.’
Saphira’s tether finally snapped. Overwhelmed by arousal she could not process, her pretty face went blank and her hands froze in place on Nyxi’s arms. The ecstasy was obvious in her eyes, but it was as if her nerves had shutdown, unable to handle the intensity of her pleasure. Her mouth was partly open as she peered up at her impish corruptor.
Once again increasing her pace, Nyxi used her grip on the edge of the bed as leverage to let her drive in deep and hard. She could feel her orgasm beginning to build, but she didn’t stop: she had no doubt the manor wouldn’t let something as menial as stamina interrupt their naughtiness.
So, with Saphira’s legs looped across her back and both their bodies burning with desire, Nyxi did what she did best: she fucked. And fucked. And fucked…
Thanks for reading!
Sometimes as a writer you’re forced to problem solve. Mostly this happens when you write your characters into a dangerous situation you then have to get them out of, at least in mainstream writing. When writing TG content like mine, however, problem solving usually takes the form of working a story around whichever gallery you’ve been inspired by. And nowhere have I experienced that more than when writing stories using Nyxi Leon’s scenes.
Leon is one of my all-time favourite trans models, but sadly she hasn’t yet had the same success as some others I’ve included on my blog. Models like Natalie Mars and Daisy Taylor are juggernauts of the trans porn industry, whereas Leon hasn’t reached those levels of stardom yet (although in my opinion there is no question that she deserves to). The issue this presents for me is that while I love writing stories that use her work, I’m significantly more limited in the galleries available for me use. As such, it can be more difficult to fit any given gallery with a story idea, especially when said idea is already part of a pre-established setting like Fantasy Manor. Obviously I allow myself some leeway in what galleries I can use. For example, no two bedrooms in this series look alike, but I do think that overall every location looks as if it could feasibly be found in a sprawling, magical manor. This was unfortunately not the case for some of Leon’s galleries, and since she has fewer scenes to source from than other models this meant I was more limited than I usually am when hunting down galleries to use in these kinds of stories.
But as the saying goes, where there’s a will, there’s a way – and you better believe if there’s any way to write a Nyxi Leon story, I will definitely find it! I knew when I started writing this there was no question that I had to include her this time around, and in the end I think this scene fits in just as well as any other despite the difficulty I faced finding a suitable gallery.
Overall, I absolutely fucking love Leon’s work, and I have no doubt she’ll show up again in future stories. She is criminally underrated, and any attention I can send her way as a result of writing this will be worth the effort.
Remember that the next chapter is out tomorrow, so be sure to come back for that!
Image galleries: http://shemalesuperstar.com/gallery/nyxi-leon-saphira-blu-hardcore/index.html
https://www.grooby.com/2023/10/the-tale-of-two-cuties/
https://shemalestardb.com/galls/radius-dark-knows-how-much-i-love-these-two/160207/
