Models: Anissa Kate, Luke Hardy & Emilio Ardana
Everybody knew that Metamorphose ran as much on magic as it did on money. Sure, there were plenty of sceptics who claimed all the transformations were just more of the same skilful misdirection you could see at any other Vegas magic show. But for the casino’s regular patrons – for the men and women who had experienced the orgasmic sensation of being moulded into bulls and bimbos and sluts and studs – there was no denying the truth: nothing in Metamorphose was an illusion.
And yet, for a place fuelled on magic, genuine face-to-face sorcery was surprisingly thin on the ground. Still, amongst the enchanted cards, bewitched slot machines and corruptive drinks, there were a handful of practitioners to be found. In a small antechamber near the roulette wheels, for instance, there was a hypnotist who was rumoured to be capable of rewriting your psyche with ease. And if you knew the right people there were at least half a dozen individuals selling all manner of spells and charms which, in Metamorphose at least, were far more lucrative than any drug.
Even so, when Zeke paid a visit to the casino’s fortune teller he didn’t actually believe she would predict his future. He’d seen his fair share of transformations – certainly enough to convince him they weren’t just cheap tricks – but soothsaying seemed like a step too far even for Metamorphose. Instead he figured it would simply be a bit of thoughtless fun.
On the contrary, the fortune teller didn’t just describe Zeke’s future, she showed it to him too.
The second Zeke placed his hands on the crystal ball he found himself somewhere else entirely. Gone was the soothsayer’s candlelit cubby and its aroma of burning incense. Instead he was in a small U-shaped room with padded walls, a central table and faux snakeskin seating lining the sides. It was effectively a large booth and while most of the space was purple it was illuminated by small red lights embedded at regular intervals in the walls. The only access was a single door, but the far end of the room was open and looked down on a much larger space below.
Although in truth Zeke barely noticed any of his new surroundings, because his attention instantly snapped to the smoking hot bombshell seated at the back of the room.
‘Mmmh, yes, grope me baby,’ she purred as one of the men standing over her reached down to squeeze her bare breast.
Zeke didn’t know where to look first: her body was phenomenal. Both breasts were deliberately exposed for her dress had no bust cups at all, just a set of straps that arced across the top of her tits as though framing them. The black of her tight dress was interrupted by a long gold necklace tipped with a pendant of sand-coloured threads, the striking piece complemented by several delicate bangles and a pair of thick hoop earrings. Further down her pussy was also naked, the twinkling folds crowned by a small patch of dark pubic hair, while her incredible legs were rendered enticingly shiny by the embrace of her stockings. Full lips, trimmed brows and the gaze of a succubus exuded unadulterated lust from between waves of dark brown hair, and her richly tanned skin looked warm and inviting.
The sight of the woman alone would have been erotic enough, yet Zeke’s arousal was further charged as he watched her jerk off the two men beside her. Her black-nailed fingers glided along their thick shafts in long, sensual strokes, and though both men grinned at each other the woman herself was clearly relishing her task the most. Zeke saw in her expression the satisfied triumph of a woman who had her dick donors literally and figuratively in the palm of her hands.
Zeke was so distracted by lust it took him almost a minute to realise two contradictory facts. First, neither of the men had noticed his appearance. But second, the busty bombshell was looking straight at him.
Before he could be startled the soothsayer’s voice echoed through Zeke’s mind. ‘Do not be alarmed, they cannot see you. Your body is still with me at my table, but I have cast your consciousness forward to witness the future I see for you.’ A mischievous edge entered her voice. ‘Not only that, but I can allow you to feel that future too.’
Pleasure hit Zeke like an avalanche. At first it was a featureless wall, the force of the onset too much to process. But as it engulfed him Zeke was slowly beset by more defined sensations: a throbbing across the left side of his chest, a tingling between his thighs, the soft embrace of tight material around his midriff and legs.
Still, it was only when he felt the warmth of two cocks sliding between his fingers that Zeke realised exactly whose pleasure he was feeling.
I’m a woman! The thought stunned him enough to briefly blunt his arousal.
‘No, not yet,’ the soothsayer’s disembodied voice reminded him. ‘But you will be. This is your future. This is where the night will lead you. This is Zara.’
Then, as if emphasising the soothsayer’s words, the lustful trio shifted into a new position that sent fresh delirium crashing through Zeke’s system.
When one of the hung studs sank his cock into Zara’s quivering folds Zeke’s world came apart at the seams. Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, how can that feel so good? The ecstasy of penetration seemed to electrify every atom of his being, and what began as a groan warped into a howl once the man began to thrust. A few seconds later an erotic ache blossomed through Zeke’s throat as the second man slid his own cock between Zara’s plump lips.
The longer he remained in the soothsayer’s vision the more his senses melded with Zara’s. By now he could feel the brush of the gold chain on the skin of her neck, the tickle of her hair against her shoulders – he even felt the brief arc of pain when the man fucking her face seized her by the cheeks to drive in deep, inadvertently tugging off her clip-on earrings in the process.
Just like before, no matter how loud Zeke groaned the two men remained utterly oblivious to his presence. And yet Zara’s eyes still remained fixed firmly on his ethereal presence.
I… I don’t understand. You said… they couldn’t see me. Even without the need to move any physical lips to speak, the words were difficult to form through his arousal.
‘They can’t. But Zara is you. Your present is her past. From her perspective her visit to me was hours ago; she has already watched herself being fucked and so even though shecan’t actually see you, she knows you’re there.’
Addled with lust as he was, Zeke struggled to wrap his head around the soothsayer’s words. In the end though he stopped trying, for other questions had begun bubbling up that seemed more important.
Where is this? How do I get here?
‘This is the Decadence Lounge. One of the private booths, to be specific. The Lounge’s dancers have a talent for ramping up the horniness of their audience, but it’s also one of the few places in the casino where nudity is limited solely to the stage. In the private booths though anything goes. So long as you’re willing to pay, you can watch the show and fuck through it too.’
As if to prove her words, a cheer rose up from the hall below as a sultry voice welcomed a woman called Eliza to the stage. Pivoting his disembodied gaze, Zeke caught a glimpse of a supple, sensual blonde strutting about in front of an adoring audience – but his attention was instantly drawn back to Zara when a particularly powerful thrust left her ass rippling.
‘As for how you get here, well, you come running. Once you leave my table you head straight for the Decadence Lounge without a second look back. That’s where you draw the attention of your two studs for the night. They’re both barmen at the Lounge, but they’re just about to finish their shift when you order a whole tray of Nympho Roulette shots and book out a private booth for the whole night. By the time they clock out and join you in the booth you’ve already downed half the tray and you’re all dressed up ready for them to manhandle.’
Half the tray? Which ones? Did I drink the bullet?
Zeke’s mind was reeling. Metamorphose offered dozens of different transformative shot roulettes, all designed to produced different transformations. While the majority were temporary, on every tray there was one shot – known informally as ‘the bullet’ – that rendered the transformation permanent.
When she responded there was a smirk in the soothsayer’s voice. ‘I can’t say. I see only your future: if you don’t know which is the bullet, neither do I. And I’m afraid I cannot see far enough ahead to know whether you drink the rest of the tray.’
Zara had moved on to riding now. With her voluptuous body reclined against one of the men she rolled her hips to take him deep, her fingers coiled around the back of the seat to help keep her steady. Above her the second man watched on in barely suppressed frustration. His desperation to fuck her senseless was clear in his hungry eyes, and though he could not raise himself high enough to use her upper lips he still managed to release some of his longing by seizing her breast and squeezing it tight until the flesh bulged between his fingers. The ferocity of his grip ached painfully through Zeke’s chest, yet the lust that came with it was twice as intense.
Nevertheless, a realisation was taking shape through the fog of Zeke’s desire.
But… if I only go to the Decadence Lounge because I saw that I would end up there… if I only order the shot tray because you told me I do so… then what if I had never come to see you in the first place?
The soothsayer’s chuckle swamped his mind. ‘Then this future would never have happened. Everybody’s future is always in flux, but the moment somebody sits down at my table they unknowingly send themselves down one specific path – albeit with a little guidance from me.’
Guidance?
‘Of course. I don’t just see the future, I play with it too. When you work in Metamorphose you learn to read people, and the moment we met I could tell you’d never experienced a transformation of your own. That’s when I decided this is the future I wanted for you – when I decided I would recommend you visit the Decadence Lounge and order a Nympho Roulette tray and fuck the bartenders. Once I’d thought it, that future became set in stone.’
With his future self still watching him while bouncing her hips with increasing neediness, Zeke couldn’t quite decide whether the feeling churning in his gut was horror or horniness. You did this to me. You made me into her.
‘Now you’re getting it,’ the soothsayer giggled. ‘Even that outfit is my doing. I always keep a supply of slutty clothing on hand as inspiration for how to mould the fates of my customers. Right now that dress, those stockings, and even the jewellery is all sat in a chest beneath my table just waiting for me to hand them over before you leave.’
A thin sliver of Zeke felt duped, exploited even. But the rest of him was too far gone to care. The constant barrage of feminine orgasmia had eroded all of his inhibitions and the yearning to become Zara was rapidly stretching roots into his soul. It no longer mattered that the soothsayer was toying with his future for nothing more than her own entertainment: if being Zara felt even half as good in reality as it did right now then he would make sure he didn’t leave a single Nympho Roulette shot undrunk.
The soothsayer’s voice interrupted Zeke’s thoughts. ‘Oh look, this is my favourite bit. It makes you look like such a shameless whore.’
Refocusing on the trio of deviants, Zeke found Zara on her knees. Both men stood over her, their cocks thrust towards her face, and he could feel the skin of their shafts moving rapidly across his palms as she jerked them off fast.
It did not take long for Zara to achieve her goal. The men groaned as one, their chiselled muscles tensing. Then, with their cocks bucking in her grasp, they came all over her fat tits. Ropes of cum lashed over her chest and rack, some even striking her cheeks, and she grinned as she milked every last drop across her tanned flesh.
Only once their balls were empty did her feverish jerking slow. Still, even then the slutty twinkle in her eye made it clear she was far from finished with them.
‘I think you’ve seen enough now,’ the soothsayer said. ‘It’s time I sent you on your way. After all, you wouldn’t want to keep Zara waiting, would you.’
As the vision started to fade Zeke wondered briefly just how different his future would have been if he’d never visited the fortune teller. But the thought was quickly banished by the lingering sensations of Zara’s perfect body: the white-hot ecstasy of cocks pounding her pussy, stretching her throat, unloading on her tits; the sordid warmth of cum trickling down her cleavage and the deviant dreams of a future brimming with endless depravity.
And as the soothsayer reunited Zeke’s mind and body once more, one image travelled back with him: Zara. Busty, beautiful and splattered with cum, her sultry stare followed him through time, a promise of all the pleasures yet to come…
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