Models: Jesus Reyes & Marta Lacroft
Sterling and Mason had picked the wrong house to burgle.
Not that they realised, of course. If anything, things were going even better than expected. There hadn’t been any bars to remove to access the small basement window, nor any lock in need of breaking to open it, and since both men were skinny as twigs it had been the work of just a few seconds to jigger open the latch and slip inside.
Though by no means master criminals, the opportunistic pair had spent long enough pilfering property from beneath the noses of their victims that they knew the value of efficiency. Their M.O. was always the same – get in quick, get out quicker, steal only what they could carry – and while it didn’t make them the big bucks, they knew enough people who knew enough people that almost anything they snatched could be sold on within the week for a tidy sum.
Tonight’s hit was a sizeable residence on the edge of town, as odd as it was imposing. The place seemed somehow out of time, the grounds infused with an aura that gave Mason in particular a bad case of the creeps. It was almost as if the house itself didn’t want them around. But when a score was as easy as this neither man was willing to pass it up.
Swinging their torches across the darkened basement they kept their eyes peeled for anything that looked remotely valuable.
‘This place is a dump,’ Mason said, raising an eyebrow at the jumbled mess. Packed with dusty furniture, countless random odds and ends, and several old chests laden with crumpled clothing, the place looked like a yard sale in the aftermath of a tornado.
‘Too right,’ his accomplice replied. ‘There’s gotta be something in here worth snatching though.’
Mason’s abrupt cry was the first alarm that they’d made a grave mistake. The holler of surprise ricocheted off the clutter and almost made Sterling jump out of his skin. Yet when he swung around to curse his fellow thief for breaking their cover Sterling found nothing but Mason’s torch lying smashed on the floor.
Off to one side, beyond the beam of his torch, Sterling heard the shrill squeaking of metal on metal. Unease shivered up his spine as he shifted his light in the direction of the sound. But that shiver felt almost soothing in comparison to the bolt of icy fear that struck him next.
Mason was cramped in an iron cage swinging from a metal hook mounted in the ceiling. One hand was pushing against the latch of the door, but it was a feeble motion and it was clear why: he was transforming. Already his face looked different – softer, fuller, more effeminate – and his tormented expression made it clear he was fighting a losing battle against the changes overcoming his body.
With Sterling’s trembling hand and the swaying of the cage throwing ghastly shadows across the wall, Mason’s corruption looked like something out of a horror movie. Whimpering groans passed his lips as he began to writhe, the cage continuing to squeak like a metallic metronome counting down his final seconds.
At first the changes were concealed by his clothes – a sudden swelling across his chest, a creaking of his trousers – but that modesty didn’t last long. To Sterling’s shock Mason’s clothes began to burn away, eaten up rapidly like film exposed to a naked flame. The edges of the expanding holes flared like embers, yet the heat had no effect on Mason’s skin, instead simply passing over it as if only hungry for his attire.
With Mason’s outfit erased Sterling could see that the transformation was almost complete. In the torchlight Mason’s silhouette was sensual and voluptuous, while the lines of his profile made it clear both his ass and bust were immensely plump. His hair had wound down into a tight plait which lashed through the air with each whip of his head, and while most of the cage was swallowed in darkness he had thrust his hands out to clutch the bars, allowing the torch beam to fall upon slender fingers capped with crimson nails.
Without warning Mason fell still. His heavy breathing echoed through the room. His body was hidden in shadow.
But then, as if they had been waiting for the transformation to run its course, the basement lights slowly brightened to fill the room with a warm glow.
Sterling dropped his torch.
Mason was unrecognisable. His new face was disarmingly sultry, bestowed with rosy lips, full features and eyes Sterling could drown in. The plait pulled his hair back tightly and for the first time Sterling realised Mason wasn’t entirely naked, rather he was wrapped in the embrace of a black harness. Not that it did anything to conceal his modesty: the straps framed his fat tits while the rear band slid between his ass cheeks tighter than a thong. Silver hoop earrings dangled from his ears and as far as Sterling could tell the only thing that had survived the metamorphosis was the dog tag which now nestled deep in his cleavage.
The new Mason was nothing short of a walking wet dream. Or rather, a kneeling wet dream, for the confines of the cage kept him penned in so that his ass was pressed against the bars and his feet jutted out into the open air.
To his credit, Sterling recovered from his paralysing terror with impressive speed. Fortunately, his thieving instincts had kicked in and even through the shock he knew that Mason’s moaning was bound to have alerted somebody to their presence. By now their cover was definitely blown, so if he wanted to avoid ending the night in cuffs then he would have to make a quick exit.
Despite their criminal history together, Sterling did not and never had considered Mason a friend, so he had no issue whatsoever leaving the transformed thief behind.
If Sterling had simply abandoned Mason then and there he might have escaped with his mind. Unfortunately, Mason had the keys to their getaway van, which was currently parked up on a gravel road just outside the house’s grounds, and when there was the possibility of a fast, warm van to make his escape in the idea of fleeing on foot through the cold night didn’t sound at all appealing. So, clinging to the hope that the key had fallen from the pocket when Mason’s clothes disintegrated, Sterling scrambled over to the gently swinging cage and the woman within who had once been his accomplice.
That simple decision was what sealed Sterling’s fate. For the moment he came within arms’ reach the woman reached out to seize his shirt and pull him against the bars. Before he could react one arm had snaked under his shirt and around his back, pinning him to the cage with surprising force while her free hand tugged urgently at his belt.
‘You psycho bitch, get off me,’ Sterling snapped, struggling to escape her powerful grip. ‘I’m serious, I don’t care what you’ve done to Mason, just let me go.’
To his surprise, when he looked into her tormented eyes Sterling recognised the soul behind them.
‘Dude, it’s me. It’s Mason. I’m sorry, I can’t stop myself. I need this. I need you. Please stop struggling. I think if you don’t then I’ll make you.’ Rather than listen, Sterling doubled his efforts, clearly startled by the realisation Mason was still inside this new woman. Sensing nothing she could say would make him listen, her face crumpled into an expression of pitiful guilt. ‘I’m sorry. Really, I am. I just need you stop struggling.’
This time Sterling fell still instantly. Her final two words carried an unfathomable weight behind them that subdued his mind in a heartbeat. She had no idea where the power within her stemmed from, nor how she could wield it, all she knew was that from the moment she had touched his skin his soul had become bound to her.
‘Oh fuck, what have I done?’ she gasped, panic bubbling up inside her. Though he couldn’t move, Sterling’s face was a mask of betrayal, the torment of being locked inside his own body visible in his eyes.
‘No, no, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. It wasn’t me. It’s like my urges are controlling me. I didn’t want to, but I needed to. Please, I’m sorry.’ Even as she continued to babble her hands were still working on his trousers. ‘It’s okay, I can fix it. I can stop you feeling any of this, then after I’m finished we can escape together. Go blank.’
The betrayal melted from Sterling’s face – but so did every other shred of emotion. His face became completely vacant as the tension in his body faded away, and it was immediately apparent the new woman had crossed a line.
‘No, no, no, no. Not like that. I didn’t mean to wipe your mind completely. Come back, Sterling. Come back.’
But her accomplice was gone. Only an empty vessel remained. Crippling regret washed through her voluptuous figure as fresh panic surged ever higher, threatening to drown her.
It was at that moment she finally succeeded in setting his cock free, and all at once nothing else mattered anymore.
This time when she pushed on the door it swung open. Leaning down she bought her face close to Sterling’s crotch, his dick resting in her hand. Seemingly in anticipation of what was about to happen, a leather cushion materialised beneath her knees.
Before she even realised what she was saying the magic words were out. ‘Get hard.’ Immediately his shaft went stiff, the sensation of it abruptly engorging in her grasp sending a delighted shudder down her spine.
With nothing to stop her, the busty slut feasted.
As soon as his dick was between her lips everything felt right. It was as if some stray cog had been jamming the inner workings of her mind and now it was dislodged, allowing her inner cock addict to fully take hold. Euphoric bliss washed through her consciousness as she settled into a needy rhythm that set her fat tits swinging and her plump ass jiggling in time. Her tongue danced around and around, savouring every second of the sordid act and fuelling her mounting arousal. Based on Sterling’s silence it seemed clear that his mindwipe had also erased his concept of pleasure too, but it didn’t much matter for even if he had been able to moan the salacious wet slurping of his lover’s oral attention would have easily drowned him out.
Nevertheless, the opportunity to finally satisfy her nymphomaniacal needs did nothing to take the edge off. She felt ready to burst with lust, and rather than soften her cravings the taste of his manhood only made her desperate for more. Of course, with her mouth full she couldn’t voice her desires out loud – but as it turned out her thoughts were just as magical as her words.
I want you to have more muscles. More muscles and more tattoos. I want you to be handsome and hot, enough to make me wet just by looking at you.
Sterling’s body responded instantly to each corruptive thought. Firm muscle swiftly bubbled up, filling out his scrawny figure with masculine strength. Dark ink worked its way beneath his brown skin, the bright light of his abandoned torch illuminating the shifting designs as they spread across his upper torso. His messy dreads retreated into a shaved style while his pinched features morphed into a much more attractive visage.
Her mind addled with horniness, it took some time for her to realise the extent of her new power. Sterling was quite literally putty in her hands. She could shape him however she desired, mould him into new and naughty forms whenever the whim took her, and with his old psyche extinguished he would never lift a finger to stop her. The ramifications alone left her reeling. Whatever the cage had done to her it had left lust etched into her very soul. Without some way of releasing it she would surely go mad, but thanks to the deviant power she now possessed there was no limit to the fantasies she could bring to life.
Right now though there was only one fantasy on her mind.
Be bigger. Stretch my throat and make my eyes roll. Be bigger, be bigger, be bigger.
The experience of Sterling’s cock growing inside her mouth was a thing of pure orgasmia. Her eyes did indeed roll and a muffled groan seeped out as her throat bulged almost down to the collarbone. To accommodate the extra length Sterling’s balls swelled too, nearly doubling in size.
High on cocklust she pushed him backwards so she could step free of the cage. Once vacated the cushion vanished, but the woman barely noticed for she had already pushed Sterling down onto a metal table nearby and was once again busy gorging on his rod.
It was in this position that Minerva found them. The witch had the form of a lithe Latina bombshell with dark hair swirling down to her hips, and she was dressed in a silk nightgown the colour of dusk – though if her tousled hair and lipstick-imprinted neck were any indication she hadn’t been wearing it for very long.
Her eyes falling to the former burglars she curled her lip in disdain. ‘I hope you’re both proud of yourselves. I had just about to settle down for a nice relaxing session of worship from my twenty favourite sluts when I heard all your commotion. Honestly, don’t you have anything better to do than interrupt an honest witch’s night of bliss?’
Neither of them answered. Catching sight of the open cage Minerva’s frustration shifted to an impish smirk. ‘Ah, apparently you don’t. Still, I think you need to learn some manners. Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore your host?’
Waving her hand the witch sent a wave of power through the room. In response the woman finally pulled up from Sterling’s cock. Gasping for air, she turned to face Minerva with wide eyes, all the while continuing to shamelessly jerk off her hunk.
‘Who are you?’ Minerva asked.
‘Mason. And this is Sterling. We’re burglars.’ Whatever magic Minerva had cast was infused with various effects. Not only was the corrupted slut compelled to answer honestly, but the all-consuming desires that had driven her since her transformation were blunted enough that she could just about control herself. Once again that stray cog was lodged in her mind, though it was only now that she realised the cog in question was actually Mason’s psyche.
Minerva chuckled. ‘You stupid fucks. Didn’t anybody ever tell you crime doesn’t pay? You really picked the wrong house to break into. I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re not Mason anymore and you never will be again. I think I’ll call you Maria.’
A pang of fear lashed through Maria’s insides as she simply accepted the name. In a heartbeat just the thought of being called Mason felt foreign. Nevertheless, his mind remained intact even if his name didn’t.
‘What’s happened to me?’
Minerva didn’t answer directly. Instead she padded barefoot across the tiles to stand behind Sterling, her hand resting on his shoulder as she looked down on Maria. Already the effects of the witch’s magic were beginning to wane and Maria couldn’t help but lean forward to suckle on Sterling’s head as Minerva spoke.
‘You know, when you have as much power as I do, not to mention centuries of immortality in which to experiment, you’re bound to have a few misfires. I’d say I’ve got a pretty good success rate overall, but sometimes my ideas take a bit of trial and error to get right. And you two dumb fucks decided to break into the room where I stash all the failed attempts.
‘Take that, for example.’ She pointed to a tattered crop top draped over a nearby chest. ‘I enchanted it to inflate the wearer’s tits whenever she desired, but instead they kept swelling with every horny thought. And since the inflation felt so hot she couldn’t stop thinking horny thoughts. In the end we had to sap all her intelligence to stop the growth – though for what it’s worth she makes a very happy bimbo.’
Next she nodded to the matching leather armchairs just behind Maria. ‘Those were supposed to allow you to transform couples into their partner’s dream lover, but for some reason they always produced the same two body types: one became a beefy bull, the other an airheaded femboy.’ Between the twin chairs was a different one – a large, padded thing with a thick metal frame. ‘As for that thing, it was meant to let you astral project into another person’s body. Granted it did work, but the only person who tried it found that after they’d had their fun they couldn’t actually return to their original body. Now they wander the halls as a horny spirit who randomly possesses our residents.’ Minerva bit her lip, her eyes briefly distant. ‘The experience is very… intense, I can assure you.’
Returning to her senses, she smirked down at Maria. ‘In fairness, I can’t blame you for choosing this room to break into – it’s the only entry point that isn’t warded to keep unwanted guests out. But me and my wife figured it would be funnier to leave the basement unwarded, because nobody who breaks in here ever makes it out without being transformed.’
Maria’s lips were once again sealed around Sterling’s dick now, though one unspoken question was still clear in her eyes: what does the cage do?
Glancing fondly at the item in question, Minerva chuckled. ‘Of all my failures, I think that one is my favourite. The original plan was to have it temporarily transform anybody inside into the ultimate nympho. As you can imagine, it would have been the perfect device for a Dominant to store their sub in – if it had worked.
‘As you’ve discovered though, that’s not how things turned out. For starters the cage took on a life of its own and would pull in anybody who came close enough. And although it did breed the perfect slut, it also granted them incredible power. The cage’s magic allowed them to take total control over the first person they touched after their transformation, enabling them to mould that person into whatever form they desired.’
Running a hand over Sterling’s powerful chest, Minerva’s eyes flashed wickedly. ‘I can see you’ve already set to work on your new plaything. Oh, and if you’re still hoping there’s some way to reverse all this, I’m afraid that’s not possible. Even I don’t have the power to turn you back, and so long as you’re in this body then Sterling’s soul will always be yours. As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now Mason is still in your head, but Maria is in control, and she’s going to continue transforming Sterling over and over again whenever a new desire takes hold.’
Suddenly pivoting away, Minerva strode back towards the door.
‘I’ll try to remember to get a room sorted for the two of you at some point. I suppose it’s the decent thing to do given it was my cage that did this to you in the first place. But you’ve already kept me away from my sluts for long enough, so it’s going to have to wait for now.’
Reaching the door, Minerva turned back to face them with a mischievous grin. Sterling had risen to his feet now and Maria was on her knees running her tongue along the underside of his shaft.
‘Oh, I almost forgot to mention. When they get started, my girls usually don’t stop worshipping me for at least a week. You don’t mind entertaining yourselves in the meantime, right?’
Without waiting for an answer she whisked from the room, the heavy door thudding closed behind her. In Maria’s mind, something else slammed shut. The door to a mental cage crashed closed, locking Mason’s psyche inside a prison from which he would never escape.
And as Maria knelt at the feet of her mindless puppet, the taste of his perfect cock on her tongue and the knowledge of her power over him filling her thoughts with endless possibilities, a single magical command flowed out from every fibre of her being: fuck me…
Thanks for reading!
Given that I try to limit additions to serialised stories to one per month at the most, I didn’t particularly plan to do two in the same month, but that’s just how things fell. As with my addition to The Program a couple of weeks ago, this gallery has been connected to The Witches for a fair while, and at one point I planned on writing it as a Halloween story for last year’s October slate. However, in the end I felt that despite the slightly ethereal lighting offered by the spotlight, the actual idea didn’t click as well with Halloween as a theme as the others stories I had in mind, so this one went on the backburner for a while.
Personally I’m happy that it did. I feel that if I was writing it as a Halloween story I would’ve felt compelled to try and force that theme into the story in some way, yet I think it is far better without being tied to a season in that way. I also really like the fact that the witches themselves take a backseat in this one. Yes, Minerva does show up, but only in the final third, and in fairness she’s mostly there just to allow me to have a bit of fun discussing the details of her failed sexual sorcery schemes. Other than in a Christmas instalment I wrote back in 2022, every other instalment has had either Morgana or Minerva as a core character. Of course, I love including them, and I have no intention of shifting away from them completely, however previous stories have alluded to the fact that their are many, many other deviants sheltering under the roof of their house of hedonism, and I find it just as enjoyable to explore their stories as well as those of their magical benefactors.
As usual, don’t expect another instalment immediately. It’s been almost a year since the last one, and I have no solid plans for another just yet. But whenever inspiration strikes I’ll be sure to pay another visit to my favourite tempting twosome.
Image gallery: https://www.pornpics.com/galleries/horny-caged-babe-marta-lacroft-gets-released-to-give-her-master-a-hot-blowjob-62830549/
