The Puzzle Box Curse By Randomking - (BE, Multiple)

This story contains sexual content not suitable to minors.  This content focuses around erotic transformation and some sex.

ASSTR Story Codes: FF, Brief MF, fsolo, mc, 1^st, breast, exhib (minor), interr, magic, size, toys (minor)

“Look, I just sat through your tattoo with you, Jenna.  Going to a curio shop is the last thing I want to do.  I just want to get back to my hotel room and make some edits to that press release.”  Violet was visibly annoyed.  Jenna had made her go to this redneck vacation town for “a release,” but everything had been awful.  At the bar, she was hit on by some of the worst country rubes.  The amusement park turned out to be an exercise in reliving the worst part of high school, idiotic teenagers being loud, obnoxious, and incapable of controlling their youthful lust.  Then, she had to put up with Jenna’s desire for a tattoo.  “We could do that in Chicago,” Violet had said.  She didn’t think that it was particularly more adventurous to do it in Missouri.

“Oh, come on.  I’ll buy you a shrunken head or something,” Jenna jested.  She wanted Violet to live a little, though in hindsight, maybe central Missouri wasn’t the best place to get away for a commodity trading company lobbyist.

“Fine, then we go back to the hotel.”

Bells on the door jangled as the door awkwardly swung open, the sloppily rigged spring mechanism making it slap back to shut with a thwap.  A black man and his swooning white girlfriend were finalizing a purchase with the proprietor, and Jenna caught Violet’s brief nose flair, knowing that Violet was always bothered by interracial couples.  Jenna was going to have to pick on her for that later.  The shop itself was a mess, as all curio shops are supposed to be.  A mummified cowboy stood grinning in a glass case near the door, freaking out both ladies when they saw it—though they quickly adjusted.  Several automatic fortune tellers were lined up like slot machines near the counter, and a confusing assortment of baubles, trinkets, ratty “period” clothing, and strange items filled the shelves, racks, and tables that haphazardly filled the floor.

Violet politely wandered the store, occasionally looking at an item just to keep herself occupied, while Jenna seemed to take great interest in many odd items.  Violet was examining an odd box decorated with images of sensually clad female demons—or at least Violet guessed they were demons, since they had horns, tails, and so on—when she was startled by Jenna’s shout.  “Violet!  Check it out!  They have sex toys!”  Violet dropped the box with a clank, as she jumped at the noise.  Then, she was simultaneously embarrassed at two separate things: she had just dropped and possibly damaged store merchandise, and her friend had just yelled at her about a private matter in the middle of a store.  Actually, Violet should have expected that.  Jenna always liked to embarrass her.  One time, they were at a fair in Chicago when Jenna unexpectedly yelled, “Don’t touch my penis!” at the top of her lungs.  The crowd scattered at the disturbance, and Violet and a grinning Jenna were left standing in the clear, angry parents and bemused youngsters staring at them.  Jenna had a good laugh about it later.

            “Jenna!” Violet half shouted, half whispered.  The few other customers were clearly entertained by the situation, since they were the sort of people who go into curiosity shops.  “Don’t say that out loud.”  Violet picked up the box, but as she stood, she was facing the owner of the shop, a large man who, despite evidence to the contrary, didn’t look like the stealthy type.  His stature and his demeanor were creepy to Violet, and she barely choked back a scream.

            “You will buy the puzzle box,” he said.

            “What?  I just dropped it, and I don’t think it’s broken.”

            “It has a crack.”

“No it…” Violet saw a hairline crack along the side of the box, and then she scanned her surroundings, realizing that it was a curio shop where half of the items were bound to be damaged or worn in one way or another.  “Oh.  Well, I didn’t mean to.”

“I didn’t say you did.  It will be thirty-five dollars.”  He clearly didn’t lack confidence.  A couple of decades of intimidating unruly teenagers had clearly given him some skills in this endeavor.

“Fine,” she said.  “I’ll pay you when we go.”

“Okay,” he said as he turned to go back to his post behind the register.

Jenna gave Violet a look of sympathy as she joined her.  “Come on.  Let’s go look at some dildos.”  The sympathy was somewhat limited to cruelty perpetrated by people other than Jenna herself, of course.  She couldn’t resist keeping Violet’s face bright red.  Violet followed her, still a bit shaken by the owner.

They looked at the toys, many of which looked like they had been used and only rinsed.  Several vibrators looked like pieces from a museum on Nineteenth Century psychiatry.  One had rubber belts on the outside that connected the filthy electric motor to the vibrating device.  Cheap packages of silly “fetish clothing” from the Eighties were still on sale for their original price of $5.99.  Given the disappointment, the two elected to pay for the strange box and return to their hotel. 

Jenna went to the poolside for a tan, while Violet worked on her press release.  At dinner, Jenna decided to press Violet about her reaction to the black and white couple leaving the store.  “Why were you upset about the girl with her black boyfriend?” she asked.

“I wasn’t,” Violet replied.

“I saw you flair your nostrils.  It’s what you do when you are upset by something.”

“I flared them, because the store smelled funny.”

“No, you didn’t.  I remember that you were always trying come up with reasons to break up with Jason.”  Jason was Jenna’s boyfriend for a time and is black.  Jenna, incidentally, is white.

“He was an asshole,” Violet said.

“Actually, he was sweet.  I was just disappointed that his dick wasn’t as big as advertised.”  Jenna was a bit of a size queen.

“As advertised?” Violet asked.

“You know.  They say that the brothers are hung like mules.”

“The brothers?  Whatever.  I’m not a racist.”

“I didn’t say you were, but you always seem uneasy about interracial couples.”

“Fine.  I don’t think it’s quite right, the races mixing like that.  I wouldn’t discriminate on the job about it, but I don’t think they should marry.”  Violet felt like she couldn’t quite get the words out right, like she was sounding more bigoted than she was.  Jenna clearly picked up on this.

“You’ve never thought this through, have you?”

“I guess not.  It just doesn’t seem right to me.  I mean, I want to marry a white man and have white children like all of my foremothers.”  She looked like she was trying to figure out how to make a speech of it; as a lobbyist, it was sort of her job.

“I don’t know that that matters.  There were only two things different about Jason.  His skin and features were a bit different, and his hair products smelled funny.  I don’t think it made a difference,” she said.

“Yeah, well, you dated a girl once, too,” Violet said disapprovingly.

“It was kind of fun.  I mean, don’t knock it till you try it, but I don’t think I’ll do it again.”  Jenna had a nostalgic smile on her face, and Violet had a look of disgust on hers.  She also gave her an inaudible prod to go on.  “What?  Women are crazy.  I couldn’t date one for too long.  Besides, I’m a size queen and all that.”

Violet sighed.  “Well, anyway, I’m not racist.  I just want to date a good man of my own race, culture, and creed.”

“I thought that Southern Baptists were non-creedal.”

“I suppose we are, but it sounded good.”

“Right.”

The trip home was uneventful.  Violet took the elevator up to her condo overlooking Lake Michigan and began unpacking.  She really didn’t buy many things in Missouri, since the whole culture of the area she went to wasn’t her thing.  Dirty clothes went into her hamper; toiletries went back to the bathroom; shoes went into the closet.  She pulled out the box.  She didn’t know why she packed it carefully with the clothes, as she would do with glassware or ceramics.  Well, it was ceramic, she supposed, but it was rather odd.  The material was jet black, and a bas-relief detailed a battle… no, an orgy!  A naked woman with hooves, a pointed tail, and horns apparently was presiding over the festivities.  She stood on what looked like a helmet, which was odd, because that would infer that she was tiny, like a fairy.  She was clearly happy about the scene before her.

Then, Violet noticed something really odd.  The hairline crack that she saw on it in the curio shop was missing.  She prodded it and twisted it, trying to see if maybe the box needed to be torqued to show that jagged fracture, but it remained pristine.  Further examination revealed odd runes and a series of sliding parts, but there was no rhyme or reason to them, so far as Violet could deduce.  Deciding that she shouldn’t be too curious about the strange thing, she set it on her coffee table and went to the kitchen for some water.  That’s when she heard it.  A sort of crash emanated from her living room, and she darted back in to see what was amiss.

Amid sulfur-scented smoke, on top of her coffee table, the box sat, and atop that, a small woman, appearing as she was on the bas-relief of the box, sat, cross-legged.  Once Violet walked in, the tiny woman, who must have been about nine inches tall, looked at her.  Violet was stunned, frozen in space, not knowing what to do.  She couldn’t believe her eyes, as nothing in her life prepared her for meeting a being who was clearly physically impossible.  She began to shake with fear: fear of this creature (who knows what it could do!), fear of the unknown, and fear of a world that turned out to be something besides what she thought.  The little woman clearly didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m Hamamelis.  Who the fuck are you?” she said in a breathy alto voice, her hands resting on her ample hips in a sassy sort of way.

Visibly perturbed, her skin whiter than usual, and her blue eyes open very wide, Violet tried to say something, but only a couple of nonsensical consonants came out.  She sort of lurched forward to get a closer look and to exhibit some form of courage.

“Okay, mute one, why am I in your apartment?”  For ten seconds, nothing happened.  Violet just sort of examined Hamamelis from ten feet away.  The creature oozed with sensuality.  Her proportions were that of an hourglass.  She stood straight up, keeping good pose, and her cloven hooves seemed to act on her legs as high heels would act on an earthly woman.  Her skin was a deep crimson red, and her nipples and lips were pitch black.  She had a five-inch tail with a tiny black arrowhead-shaped barb on the end.  A couple of prominent horns rose and curled from her long (well, long for a tiny woman like her) black hair.  Hamamelis’ facial features were strong but feminine; she looked like a supermodel who had just retired to take care of her kids, mature and confident.

“I’m Violet.”

“Okay, we’re now only one question behind.  Why am I in your apartment?”

“I don’t know.”  Violet kind of lied.  She wasn’t stupid.  After all, she had brought in the box with the depiction of what was probably the little woman standing before her.

“I sense a lie,” Hamamelis said, her eyes being to glow a little, giving her an aura of intimidation.

“I bought the box from a store, and I took it here.”

“That’s better.  Okay, well, I suppose I should explain to you that you’re now cursed.  I’ll be your roommate for a time, and you get to deal with the consequences of your curse,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Cursed?” Violet stuttered.  “What do you mean?”

“Ah, it’s good that you don’t think that my company is a curse, as that would be rude.  Yeah, you will affect people around you.  They will be changed to suit my tastes…  My tastes are erotic, I think.  Anyone you talk to in person for a while will start to be different and oh so sexy,” she said.  Hamamelis was starting to get wistful.

“Uh, that doesn’t sound good.  Why are you doing this?”

“It’s my nature, my dear.  I am a little imp of sex, desire, lust, the erotic…  It’s who I am and how I was made.  I love the chaos of unexpected desire, unwanted lust, and unfamiliar feelings.  These things excite me, feed me, and make me what I am.  As part of your curse, you may feel some of what I feel, but not yet.  Not yet.  There is a future which has not yet been met.”

Violet sat on her couch, since the little imp was apparently not interested in violence.  No, this situation seemed worse than that.  As Hamamelis got down from the box and began exploring the surface of her coffee table, Violet contemplated what to do.  She had gone to church all her life, and part of what she learned concerned the ultimate battle of good and evil that took place between God and Satan.  As far as she could tell, it seemed obvious that Hamamelis was on Satan’s side, since that fit pretty well.  Southern Baptists were known to occasionally do exorcisms, so maybe she should do that.  Yeah, that was the ticket.  Violet would call her preacher tomorrow and let him know that he needed to come over and rid her apartment of evil.  God and Jesus would take care of things, and her faith would be stronger.

Hamamelis jumped off the coffee table, since it was kind of boring.  She began exploring the living room, taking great interest in her DVD collection.  Did demons actively take interest in people’s media collections?  Violet wasn’t sure, but this one seemed to be.  “Is there a way for me to break the curse?” she asked.

“No.  Besides, I like the curse.  Why would I tell you such a thing?”

“I bet if I figure out the puzzle on this box, you’ll have to lift it!”

“Give it your best shot, kid.  It really doesn’t have a lot to do with it.”

For a time, Violet gave it her best shot.  Games and puzzles weren’t her strong suit.  She was better at rote memorization, writing, managing, and understanding people.  Logic was not her intellectual give.  For an hour she tried it out, while Hamamelis apparently charted her entire apartment.  It was getting late, though.  Maybe she could work this out later; besides, Violet thought she’d have better luck with the preacher.

She went to her bedroom, looking around for Hamamelis.  Apparently, she was in the kitchen taking an inventory of her cooking ware.  Violet closed the door and began to strip so that she could change into her pajamas.  Somehow, Hamamelis had gotten in the room.  She was sitting on her bureau, legs dangling.  She seemed suddenly really interested in Violet.

“Go ahead.  I like a show,” she said, leering.

“Get out of here!” Violet shouted.  She hoped that she didn’t alert the neighbors.

“No.”

Irritated, Violet reached out and grasped Hammemelis.  Or, at least, she tried to.  It was like trying to swat a fly, if not worse.  The little imp’s agility was outstanding, and she dodged multiple attempts to grab, seemingly without any real difficulty.  After knocking many things off of her furniture, Violet seethed, staring at the little bitch, hating her for intruding.  Privacy was important to her, and anyone violating it was going to pay.  Hammamelis was sitting on top of the shade of a floor lamp.

“Are you done?  Well, clearly, you don’t understand the arrangement of our relationship.  I’m an imp, not a pet or a well-behaved guest.  It is my nature to be ornery and a poor guest.  Just to show how ornery I am, I’m going to have to put a little hex on you.  It will be permanent, but I can always add to it, if you don’t come around to understand your place relative to mine, okay?”

Violet just stared at her.  Then, her skin started to itch.  “What the…?” she muttered.

“Oh, so long as you’re in your apartment, you are allergic to clothing—cotton, leather, synthetic, wool—it doesn’t matter.  If it’s something you wear to cover yourself, it will bother you.  Now, take it off, but I want a good show, or I make the hex worse, okay?”

Violet wasn’t quite sure how to do such a thing.  A show?  Did Hamamelis mean a striptease?  Violet couldn’t dance, let alone dance erotically.  She opted to just take it off.  The itching had become burning, and it was getting unbearable.  She pulled off her shirt and jeans, getting some relief.  Her socks, panties, and bra were hurting like hell.  She did her best to get it all off as fast as she could, clumsily collapsing on the bed when she finally got her panties off.

“When I said a show, I didn’t mean a physical farce.  Now, you’ve got another permanent problem.  You will always be allergic to panties or anything that hugs right up to your pussy.”  The tiny woman had a giant grin on her face, clearly taking pleasure in her mischief.

“That’s not fair!  I don’t even know how to dance!”

“Fairness and justice are not major weapons in my arsenal, deary.  Now, stand up, so I can get a good eyeful.”

“You’re a little lesbo pervert,” she said, even as she complied.  It was a rough enough night already, getting cursed thrice.

“I’m not a lesbian, as you may eventually learn, but I am a pervert.  Let’s see.  Average-sized breasts, lovely little nipples there,” she said, as she hopped back on the dresser, just in reach of them.  As she tweaked Violet’s left nipple, Violet angrily tried to dodge.  “Decent figure, my dear, but you could do better.  Ah, you’re a natural blonde, since the rugs match the curtains.  You don’t care much about keeping a well-groomed bush, do you?”

“I, uh, don’t have any need to.”

“Really?  No boyfriend?  I was hoping to have some fun with him, too.”

“Not right now, and if I did, I wouldn’t be letting him see my privates.”

“Okay, well, that might mean…  Go lay on your bed for me!” Hamamelis squealed.

“Okay,” Violet complied.

“Spread your legs for me,” Hamamelis said, as she hopped onto the foot of the bed.  Still cowed, she did so.  The tiny creature, apparently lacking any sort of manners pulled Violet’s labia wide, arms outstretched, and took a long gander.  Violet was starting to tear up.

“Oh, cut that out.  You appear to be a virgin, as your hymen is still intact and is the sort of hymen that would break upon penetration.  Sometimes, they don’t.  Sometimes, they break from stupid things like horseback riding—though there are more fun ways to break one’s hymen with a horse!”  Hamamelis giggled when she say it, a wistful look on her face.  She hopped back off the bed and started going through desk drawers.

Violet pulled herself together, feeling violated.  She headed to the shower.  When she got it going, she saw her rude guest sitting on top of her shower head, watching.  Still annoyed, she went ahead and tried to clean herself off.  She wasn’t going to take a shower, but she felt really dirty.  She felt worse when she noticed that Hamamelis was masturbating as she watched.  Violet’s eyes went wide, her nose flaring.  She was about to swat the little annoyance off of the shower head but realized that would be a really bad idea.  She finished her shower and headed to bed.  The towels didn’t irritate her until she used them as a wrap.  When she turned out the lights and pulled up the covers, Hamamelis crawled up on her pillow and went to sleep, much like some cats would.

Morning was awkward.  When Violet woke up, she was sleeping on her side, and somehow, Hamamelis had worked her way into her cleavage, happily sleeping away.  Violet, skill afraid of the Lilliputian devil, decided to carefully get her on the bed and out from between her breasts.  She proceeded to get ready for work, realizing that she was going to have to put off getting dressed until the last minute.  She hadn’t spent this long naked her entire life, and it was still embarrassing, even with her tormentor asleep.  She took another shower, ate a quick breakfast, put on her makeup, put her purse together, and finally put on a pair of suit pants.  Briefly, she had forgotten about the panty thing, and she fixed that.  Thankfully, the pants were loose enough that no one would see any cameltoe or anything.  She was extremely uncomfortable by the time she got to the door, and her clothes were still a bit disheveled, but she could adjust them in the bathroom in the lobby of the apartment building.

“Have a fun day!” Hamamelis shouted, as she left.  Violet didn’t respond.

After putting the finishing touches on her outfit in the first floor restroom, she continued to the bus stop.  She was glad she lived in downtown Chicago, near her work.  When she lived in Texas, she had to drive everywhere, but parking and traffic were simpler when she used mass transit, and her apartment was only a twenty minute bus commute, tops.  When she got to the stop, a frequent fellow bus rider—whose name Violet never learned—was already there.  They struck up a polite and friendly conversation about the last week, since he had not seen Violet in the previous week.  She cleared up how she and her gal-pal had taken a brief vacation in Missouri and that it was less fun that she had hoped.  The gentleman, a mechanical repairman for one of the high-rises, expressed his sorrow for her lousy holiday but gave some advice on travelling in the region in the future.  He seemed kind of distracted and a bit uncomfortable, though, and Violet wasn’t sure how to treat this.

“Are you feeling okay today?” she asked.

He blushed a bit.  “I’m fine.  I must not have gotten enough sleep last night.”  He seemed to want to end the conversation, so Violet just stared ahead and across the street.  A minute later, the bus arrived.  It was pretty full, but Violet managed to find a seat next to Karen, an intern who worked at the same firm as Violet did.

A similar conversation about Violet’s week and then a conversation about Karen’s involvement in the development of an Asian cultural festival ensued.  Apparently, Karen—who was Korean—was going to be manning a booth about archery as a sport and as a historical practice.  They continued their conversation, but as they were going, Violet noticed that Karen seem to be similarly uncomfortable and distracted as her repairman friend was.  She wasn’t stupid; she knew this might have to do with Hamamelis.  She just hoped that her preacher could fix all of it.  When they got off the bus, Karen was walking a bit funny, but she obviously tried her best not to draw too much attention to herself.

Violet hurried upstairs, wanting to avoid anyone she could.  She didn’t want to cause anymore harm, if indeed she had.  She was starting to get a little paranoid about her situation.  Plus, she was feeling rather naked in her pantieless state.  She got to her office without starting anymore conversations, and then she saw her secretary.  Violet had a nice office on the twenty-third floor.  Her window pretty gave her a view of an ornate office building across the street.  To get into her office, though, she had to go through her personal secretary’s office.  Normally, this was great, because Shona acted as a good gatekeeper.  It was part of her job, after all.  In order to do her work, Violet was going to have to talk to her.  There was a week’s worth of calls, mail, email, memos, news…  There was a lot that needed to be discussed to get Violet back up to speed.

Shona was a fantastic secretary.  She always showed up on time and was willing to work for as long as Violet needed.  Despite Violet’s appeals for a raise for Shona, upper management was always making excuses, and Violet always thought it had to do with race.  In Violet’s mind, despite her queasiness about the idea of interracial relationships, her acceptance and adoration for Shona was an important part of why she didn’t think of herself as a racist.  The young and lovely black woman who maintained order in her office was proof positive that she was tolerant and modern.  Whether anyone else saw it that way, Violet didn’t know.

They made some brief idle chat before Violet moved the conversation to work.  After all, it was important that she get ready for what was supposed to be an important week.  The state legislature was working on regulatory reform in the commodity markets, and her firm needed to make sure that they were friendly to the market players.  She was going to need to make some calls, rewrite a press release, and apparently meet with a state senator who was wavering, despite having been solidly on board with her firm’s agenda.  There was going to be a meeting on Wednesday, and hopefully, the strategies would be put together then.  Unfortunately, Shona was beginning to look antsy and flustered.  She kept trying to reach at her back.

“Do you need to take a break?” Violet asked.

“Uh,” she said, pulling at the back of her blouse, “I think so.  I’ll be back soon!”  She ran off to what Violet guessed was the restroom.

Fifteen minutes later, she returned.  By then, Violet was about half-way through organizing her email and Shona simply took her seat at her desk.  Violet barely noticed and was too engrossed in her email to return to their work.  After that other fifteen minutes, she returned to Shona, who was slouching low in her desk, looking a bit preoccupied and a little upset.  “Are you okay, Shona?”

“Yeah,” she said without much confidence.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”  She sort of sat up a bit and looked like she was ready to finish what was started.  It was then that Violet noticed that Shona was nipping out a bit.  It looked like she wasn’t wearing a bra, and it looked like she was trying to hide it without being too obvious about doing so.  Violet was good with personal interactions, and she very often picked up on these sorts of things.

“You know it’s office policy to wear a bra, if you’re going to wear a blouse like that, right?” Violet asked and immediately felt a bit of regret.

“Yeah.”  Shona looked like she was ready to cry.  Violet closed the door to the office.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, okay?” she replied, clearly flustered.  It was out of character for her, since she was usually on top of everything, unphased by the biggest of changes.

“Is there something wrong with…  Uh, is there something wrong with your boobs?” she asked, suddenly feeling some guilt and major concern.

“Yeah, I think so.  My bra stopped fitting.”  Shona, who usually looked you straight in the eye looked like a punished school student, staring at the papers on her desk.

“It’s okay.  I won’t get you into trouble.  You know that.”  Come to think of it, Shona’s breasts did look somewhat bigger.

“Yeah.  It’s really weird.  In the bathroom, they looked like they weren’t mine.  I had to pinch myself.”  It looked like Violet’s efforts at comfort were paying off.  “They’re bigger, and the nipples are bigger, too.”

“Can I see?”  Violet didn’t know where that came from.  Hamamelis would have told her about another curse, right?  Maybe she would, or maybe she just liked tormenting her.  At any rate, she was curious.  She would have been curious last week, too, right?  She wasn’t sure.  She’d been through some weird shit.

Shona looked a bit shocked, but it was one of those things where one could consider it a medical issue.  “Yeah.”  She unbuttoned her blouse and opened it.  Her breasts, which were a bit smaller than average before looked kind of big.  They weren’t huge, and they didn’t mismatch her body, but they were definitely bigger.  They had good form, too.  They were round and full, drooping pleasantly.  The dark brown nipples were very prominent, too.  Each one was bigger than one of Violet’s thumbs, and each was surrounded by a two or three inch areola.  They looked almost painfully erect.

“Do they hurt?”

“No.  The only pain was from the bra.  I think I should go to the doctor.”

“Yeah, probably so,” she half-way lied.  She thought she should see a religious leader instead, but a doctor was more rational.  “Can we get caught up?  You can make an appointment right now.”

“Okay, yeah, that will work.”  She was rebuttoning her blouse and trying to perk herself up.  “I’m supposed to be happy about this, right?  I mean, big boobs are good for picking up guys…”

“I guess, but you’ll have to buy new clothes.”

“Yeah.  Plus, I could be sick.  You know, breast cancer or something.”  With that, she started unbuttoning her shirt again.  She looked a bit frantic.  “I should check for lumps!” she said, a look of mortal concern on her face.

“Okay…” said Violet.  She should look away, she knew, but there was morbid curiosity at work.  This had to be Hamamelis, right?

Shona worked her shirt off completely, and Violet closed the blinds on the window.  It was daytime, and no one should be able to see in well, due to the glare, but one couldn’t be too careful.  Shona then started giving herself a self breast exam.  The lovely orbs jiggled and almost bounced during the rather frantic examination.  “Ungh.”  Shona moaned.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re kind of sensitive,” Shona said, her face blushing enough to show through her dark skin.

“They hurt?”

“Um.  No.  I’m sorry, Ms. Harlow, but they felt kind of good.”  She checked a couple other spots.  “No lumps, though.”  She put her blouse back on, and Violet noticed that she was starting to get a little wet, and she adjusted herself to make sure that she hadn’t made a dark spot on her suit pants.  She hadn’t.

“Okay, go ahead and call the doctor.”  Violet’s heart was racing.  She closed the door to her personal office and pulled out her cell phone.  Hurriedly, she dialed her pastor’s number.  He picked up.

“Preacher Joe!  I’m glad you’re there.  I have a big, big problem.”

“Violet!  It’s good to hear from you!  What’s wrong?”

“I think… no, I know my apartment is inhabited by a demon, and I want you to exorcise her.”

There was a moment’s silence.  “Okay.  Yeah, these things can happen.  What makes you so sure it’s a demon?  Is it voices, apparitions?”

“It’s a little woman with red skin and a tail.”  Violet was already feeling ridiculous.

“What?  Really?  I can come over tomorrow, if that’s okay.  I had to take a trip to my wife’s family home in Peoria.  I can be by in the evening, any time.  I’ve never done an exorcism, though.”

“I don’t imagine it comes up much.  Look, just call ahead.  She won’t let me wear clothes.”

“Um.  Okay.  It will just be me and my wife, okay?  She went to a seminar on demons and how to get rid of them once, so she has a good idea of what to do.  I think that so long as we are faithful, Jesus will take care of it, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”  Violet felt like a fool, but she needed the hope that she could get her situation taken care of.  She looked into Shona’s desk area, and she was there, apparently finishing with setting up her appointment.  This was good.  They’d finish up their effort to get the week banged out, and all would be well.

“Can we finish?” she asked.

Violet looked up from her cleavage.  “Sure.”

“How did it go?”

“Well, I described what happened, and they said it was ‘unusual’ but that it didn’t sound imminently life threatening.  I have an appointment on Friday.  Um, we were talking about setting up a meeting with Senator Bensen, right?”

“Yeah, he was supposed to be on our side, but he’s wavering.  I guess he wants more PAC money, but you never know with these guys.  Sometimes, they get called out by liberals, and it’s all a mess.”  Violet practically spat out the word “liberal,” and Shona cringed.  Shona wasn’t as anti-liberal as Violet was, since a lot of her family were liberal activists.  Indeed, she was frequently picked on for who she worked for.

“Well, I’ll put his number on the phone, if you want to talk to him.  I’ll get past his secretary for you.”  Shona deftly thumbed through the rolodex and dialed the phone with nearly inhuman speed.  “Hi, Vera, this is Shona Walberg at Wright, Blanke, and Samuels…  Yes, I’d like to set up an appointment for Violet Harlow…  It’s about the regulatory bill, yes…  Well, the sooner the better…  Today?...  You’re sure?...  Okay, if that’s all you’ve got this week, I’ll arrange it…  Three o’clock…  Sure…  You, too…  Bye bye.

“Okay, he’s busy all day, except from three to three-fifteen.  He couldn’t talk, but you’ve got an appointment—a short one, but it will have to do, right?”

“Yeah, if you want to bug out early, I’ll pay for the cab ride.”

“That won’t…”  She stopped.  She was bothered by something.  “I feel funny in my chest,” she said.

“What’s wrong?”  Violet was concerned.  She thought that Hamamelis’ curse would only work on one person once.  This wasn’t a good sign.  Shona unbuttoned her blouse once again, and both women were suddenly shocked.  Between her breasts, a dark spot with swelling beneath appeared.  It seemed to be getting larger.  Shona was about to scream, but Violet covered her mouth.

“Shh.  I don’t think we want to make a show, right?  It will just be an embarrassment.”

“Okay, okay.  What’s happening?”  The swelling increased, and it was soon clear that the spot was another nipple.  It puffed fairly rapidly pressing her two natural—well, they were at least a modicum of normal—breasts apart.  They seemed to slide a little to allow their new company room.  Shona was breathing rapidly, frightened and curious at the same time.  Violet’s mind was a panic, a desperate mix of fear, hatred for Hamamelis, and a feeling of guilt.  She held it together, though, since she felt that she had to be tough at the moment.  It wasn’t her that was being changed, even if she was perhaps the vehicle.  The third breast finished filling in its space within a minute of Shona opening her shirt.  It was about the same size as her other two had become with a nipple that matched the others.  The symmetry was perfectly bilateral, unlike ordinary breasts.  Normal breasts in sets of two are always different from left to right, though breasts can be mirrors of each other.  In this respect, the third breast was atypical.  No one could argue that its form was offensive, though.  Its presence would certainly offend many people, but it did have a certain beauty all to itself.

At the moment, that beauty was underappreciated.  “What the fuck?  I think I need to call the doctor again.  What the fuck, Violet?”  She looked frustrated now more than afraid.  Whatever happened had apparently ended, but the inconvenience was going to be more long-term.

“I don’t know,” she lied.  “Let’s get you home.  You stay here, and I’ll grab a big coat for you, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Lock the door, and I’ll knock two then three times.”

“Yeah.”

Violet discretely left the area and headed toward the wardrobe department.  Since WB&S needed to do media often, they maintained a room full of all sorts of outfits, plus a full-time seamstress on staff.  It was down a few floors, and Violet took the stairs, not wanting to have to confront anyone.  She hurried down them, nearly out of breath when she got to the correct floor.  The wardrobe department  door was wide open, and Violet could hear the sewing machine at work.  She slipped in, trying not to arouse any attention.  However, Mrs. Hammer was at attention and spotted Violet.

“Hello, Ms. Harlow, what can I get you today?” she asked.

Violet glanced over to see Mrs. Hammer sitting behind her sewing machine, apparently looking forward to company.  While ordinarily, Violet would love to talk to the sweet woman, she was in a hurry and afraid of what might happen to her.  “I just need a long coat.  You know, a trench coat or something?”

“Men’s or women’s?”  Mrs. Hammer raised an eyebrow.  Despite her age, she maintained a certain aura of elegance and grace that made her more beautiful than one might expect.  She always struck the right pose.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“And about what size?” she asked as she stood and started moving toward the racks of clothes.

“Uh, medium?  It’s not critical.  My secretary…  She spilled a lot of coffee on her shirt…  She’s had a really bad day and might be sick, so we just need something to cover her up for a cab ride home.”

“I could probably find a shirt to replace hers for the day, if you like,” Mrs. Hammer offered.

That wasn’t very likely, Violet thought.  “No, she just needs to get home.  A fitting wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Okay, then.”  Mrs. Hammer emerged from the clothing racks with a coat in hand.  “This one should do.  We used it in that commercial about Representative Fox and his dealings with D.C. insiders.  I liked that one.”

“Me, too, Mrs. Hammer.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t delay you.  Have a good day.”  Mrs. Hammer’s smile was so genuine, it could be used as a standard by which all currencies would be judged as counterfeit, regardless of their proper origins at the Denver Mint.

“Bye!” Violet said as she left the room as quickly as politeness would allow.  As she entered the stairwell, she thought she heard a scream, but she was in too much of a hurry to debate it.  She quickly ran up the stairs, nearly slipping several times and reached her floor, having to will herself to slow down so that she didn’t arouse too much suspicion.  When she reached her office, she knocked her code, and she heard the bolt slide.  She nonchalantly slipped in and handed the topless but now triple-stacked Shona the coat.

“Okay,” she said as she threw it one, tightly tying the waste belt.  “I think I’ll be okay.  I went ahead and called a cab while you were out.”

“Good,” Violet said.

“Can you walk me out?”

“Absolutely.  I don’t think I have to do anything until that meeting, so it will be alright.”  Violet prayed that Hamamelis’ curse wouldn’t strike again.  They made their way downstairs to the street level where the cab was waiting.  Violet helped Shona in and watched as the cab left.

The rest of the morning was uneventful for Violet.  She was trying to keep it together.  Her drive to get her work done prevented her from doing what should be obvious: go home and try to figure things out.  She didn’t even do research on her special problem from her office.  Instead, she did work.  She worked on memos and press releases.  She boned up on Senator Bensen and their past dealings.  She didn’t want to get anything wrong, though she was worried that her curse might interfere with the meeting.  These things were important, though.  At lunch, she ate a meal from the vending machine, and she did her best to avoid human interaction, something that took a lot of willpower, since she was fundamentally a social animal.

Finally, two-thirty rolled around, and Violet headed off to her meeting with the senator.  He was in his Chicago office at this point, since the state legislature was out of session.  It was not a long walk, and the weather was fair, so she left on foot and made her way to the office building.  She showed her badge at the door, and the security officer let her through. Several local politicians had offices in the building, so she was a frequent visitor.  When she reached the office, she encountered Vera, Senator Bensen’s receptionist and secretary.  She was an attractive forty-year old Chinese American who didn’t look a day over thirty.  She was small but full of energy.  Despite Violet’s best attempt to look unfriendly, she started up a conversation.

“The senator will be with you soon.  Can I get you anything?”

“I’m okay,” Violet said, trying to avoid eye contact.

“You usually ask for coffee, and it is time for the afternoon crash, you know.”

Violet was feeling weary.  “Sure.  Cream and sugar, please.”

Vera retrieved the sweet elixir of life and returned as chipper as ever.  Despite her best attempts, Violet again had to recount the tale of her vacation, something she was getting rehearsed at.  They talked about Vera’s son who had just applied to a plethora of universities, most of them private and on the East Coast.  Vera looked uncomfortable at one point, but she seemed intent on being the perfect hostess for Violet.  Finally, five minutes late, Senator Bensen announced that he was ready over the intercom.  “Yes, sir, I’ll be in the ladies’ room for a bit, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“That’s more information than I need, Mrs. Chin, but I appreciate it.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Violet entered the room.  Senator Bensen was a veteran professional baseball player in his youth, and Violet always took great pleasure in looking at his tremendous collection of memorabilia, trophies, and dated sports equipment.  He took pride in it, and used it frequently to aid in conversation.  His White Sox jersey hung prominently on the wall behind his chair, reminding people constantly that the locals loved him for his baseball skills.  Violet always thought it was a silly but quaintly pure way to work up to a higher office.  He certainly backed up his popular credentials with a quick wit, and it was difficult to dislike the man.

“I hear, sir, that you are having some second thoughts about your position on the regulatory bill, and I just came by to see what you might need to come around,” she said, smiling as sincerely as she could.

“Ah, yes, you would be here about that, Ms. Harlow.  I’m getting some flak from my party heads, and apparently, there is a new PAC ready to fund a primary opponent.  Now, I’m sure that your intentions are pure, but I’m not financed to fight a tough primary and a general in the same year.  My old teammate is running on the Republican side, you know, and he was born in this neighborhood.”

“I heard, and we don’t want that happening.  Listen, your new position on this bill will be difficult for you, since a lot of people in your district will be affected.  You know that a lot of the small businesses in your district rely on the presence of the traders at the exchange.  Think of them.”

“Oh, the exchange isn’t going away, and you know it.  It won’t affect the deli workers, and you know it.  This is about your clients’ bottom lines.  For once, I think I can make alliances with the rural Illinoisans.  That doesn’t happen very often these days.”

“Well, it’s going to be bad for business.  This bill will put in too many bureaucrats who will do nothing but slow down the market.”
            “It needs to be slowed down.  It’s too volatile, and that hurts our farmers and industry.”

Violet looked at him for a moment.  He looked like he had found some inner courage that she hadn’t seen in him.  Sure, he was spouting off anti-market claptrap, but she never remembered him having any sort of moral fiber.  He was great to work with, and he was always a generous man, working to help individuals with their problems, but she could usually count on him to weaken bills that seemed too aggressive toward commodities trading.  “What’s this about?  You can win a primary, and you know that if you vote for the bill as it is, we’ll have to fund your Republican opponent.”

“Yes, I know that.  I look back on my service, though, and I see a decade of candy-ass voting and manipulations.  I want to do something that’s right, something I should have been doing all along.”  He looked a bit emotional, like there was something more important than the conversation.  “This is something I can do.”  Was it his health?  He was only forty-five.  Things can happen, though.

“Seriously, sir, is there something wrong?”  If it was his health, then hitting him hard in an election could prove to be disastrous to the industry.  State senators will fight like starving dogs to cram things through or kill bills, but when someone picks on one of their own from the outside, they could unite as a pride of angry lions, filled with a righteous vengeance.  Senator Bensen just looked at her with his gray-blue eyes, seeing that she might have caught on.

“By now, you’ve guessed at it, I suppose,” he said.  “I’m not too long for this world, and I want a better legacy.  Chicago is full of sycophantic ass-lickers, brown-nosing their way to the top, and for what?  Kickbacks, more power for its own sake, women…  God, I don’t know.  Now and then, we get a hero.  When I have to think about death, I have to think about immortality.  I figure I’ll go somewhere when I die—I’d like to think heaven, but I deserve hell.  I also figure this world will keep on going, and I want to leave it a better place than I found it.”

“Alright.  We can find other votes.”  She was feeling a lump in her throat.  Even when you face an enemy, if that enemy is noble, you cannot help but to feel grief for their loss.

“No, you won’t.  I think I can beat you on this one.”  He was starting to look distressed, though.

“Sir, are you okay?  You look ill!”  She was reaching for her phone, preparing to dial 911.

“I think…  I think I’m having a heart attack!” he said.  For an instant, Violet was tempted.  She could let him die, and she could have the bill watered down, saving her clients hundreds of millions of dollars.  Senator Bensen wasn’t going to be too long for this world—he said it himself—but… no.  Violet was a good person, a good and moral Christian.

“Hold on!  I’m calling 911!” she said as she dialed.  “Yes!  I’m having an emergency.  I’m in Senator Bensen’s office, and he’s having a heart attack, I think…  Yes, that’s the place.  Hurry!”  She turned to Senator Bensen whose features were looking a bit different.  “They’re coming, sir.  You’ll be alright!”  He looked more relaxed, though.  Oh, God!  Was it going to be that quick?  But, wait.  He was breathing normally, but he looked confused.  In fact, to Violet, if she hadn’t been in the room all this time, she wouldn’t recognize him.  He looked younger and more… feminine?

“I, I…”  His voice cracked.  It was a little higher.  “I feel… odd.”  Now, if violet had walked in, she would not only have misrecognized the man, but she would have thought him a woman.  He reached down to his chest, and his hand darted away, like he had touched a hot stove.  “What the…?”

Not again.  This must be Hamamelis’ doing.  There were a pair of breasts under that dress shirt.  Violet could see them, along with nipples that poked out from under the dual layers of an undershirt and the dress shirt itself.  Senator Bensen looked… well, pretty now.  He felt himself again and looked extremely confused.  His breathing increased.  “I feel hot.”  The voice was distinctly female.

“Sir, I think you’ve spontaneously swapped genders.”  It was stating the obvious, but at the moment stating anything not obvious would really have underappreciated the reality of the situation.

“What?” she said.  Senator Bensen was definitely smaller, and the clothes no longer fit well at all.  The shirt was far too big, especially in the arms and the waist.  The pants would have fallen off, if she wasn’t sitting.  Her shoes were already off, and her socks dangled oddly.  She looked like a twenty-something year-old woman, a rather beautiful twenty-something year-old woman, actually.  She had smallish but pert breasts, a robust but attractive figure, and a cute, girl-next-door kind of face.  “I… did.  I…”  She passed out.  No one would be surprised at that.  Violet looked around the room.  What could she do?  There was an ambulance on the way.  The secretary had not yet returned.  The paramedics would not know what to do, since they would be looking for someone who did not look like himself.

She quickly scribbled a note.  “This is Senator Bensen.  Something strange has happened.  Ask him questions only he would know the answers to.  Trust me.  – a friend.”

Violet ran out the room and exited the building as fast as she could.  When she got out, she got a call.  “Hello?... Yes, this is her.  Tell your paramedics that the situation has… changed.  It is really, really weird, okay?...  You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…  No, he’s not dead, exactly…  I wouldn’t say that, either…  Just trust the note you find, okay?...  Yes, I’ll make a statement later.”  She had no idea what people were going to do with Senator Bensen.  Little did she know, but if she had told her story a month later, few would have any problem believing it.

Violet frantically unlocked her apartment.  She looked like a mess.  She ran all the way to her apartment, a feat that had battered her.  She was drenched in sweat, her pant suit was torn in several places, she had snapped the heel off of left shoe, her hair was a complete mess, and she had several bruises and scrapes from the falls she endured.  Every time she faltered, she got back up and continued running.  She wasn’t really in that kind of shape, and her pained, deep, and rapid breathing belied that fact.  Upon entering, her suffering only got worse.  Her clothes were irritating her skin badly.  She anticipated this, but she wasn’t going to strip before coming inside to the relative privacy of her apartment.

“You look great!” Hamamelis said as Violet desperately peeled off her clothing.

“Fuck you,” she replied.

“Okay.  How would you like it?” she said sweetly with a hint of optimism.

“No, you bitch!  You really hurt at least two people today.  I saw it, their bodies changed in ways that will make their lives really, really hard.”  She was nude now, and she had to stop her rant, since she had to catch up with her breathing.  She noticed that the television and her desktop computer were on.  A bunch of stuff had been rearranged, apparently to make it easier for nine-inch tall people to navigate her apartment.  Hamamelis had devised a bed of pillows on the coffee table and had the remote control resting on a couple of books so that it was in reach.

“Probably, yes.  It’s what I do.”  She was cocksure and cool.

“My friend is going to have to get surgery to get rid of that abomination you put on her chest.”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” the demonette replied.

“What?  Why?  She will look like a freak to everyone if she doesn’t.”

“She will if she does, too.  Your people have come up with all of this great technology,” she said pointing at the flat screen television on the wall, “but you can’t use it to undo the effects of magic.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’ll slice of that tit and sew her up.  In minutes, it would grow back and stand as proudly as it should.”  Hamamelis had a wicked smile on her face.

“That’s awful!  And what about Senator Bensen?  No one will even know who he is!”

“So, that’s why you left him, eh?”

“Um…  No.  What was I supposed to do, infect the paramedics?”

“That would have been fun.  Besides, she’s better off.  She’s got another sixty or eighty years to live now.”

Violet was stunned.  “You healed him?”

“Her.  Basically, yeah.  It was fun.  I am no homicidal, you know.  Killing people isn’t much torment for them, and anyway, it’s just not my style.”

“Hmph.  I need to call Shona and let her know that surgery isn’t going to help.”

“She won’t believe you.”  That was true.

“Unless she saw you.”

“I suppose so.  If you hang out with her again, though, you never know what will happen.”  The evil grin got nastier.

“That’s not fair!”
            “We can make it fair.”

“How?”

“Well, we can make a bargain.”

“Um, what kind of bargain?”

“You take a change of your own, and I’ll never change Shona again.”

Violet glared at her rude guest.  “What’s the change?”

“A surprise.”

Her intrinsic goodness, charity, and selflessness bubbled up inside.  “Okay, fine.  I’ll take the change,” she said, hoping it wouldn’t be terrible.

“Done.”

Violet looked herself over.  She didn’t see anything different.  Nothing felt different.  “I can’t tell anything,” she said.

“Probably not yet,” she said.  “The change is done, but it’s subtle, and it’s in your head.”

“Hey!  You never said anything about that!  Everything was, you know, physical!”

“I never said it otherwise, either.  I do both, you know.  Both are fun.  The mental ones can be really fun, but they’re no good if they’re too big.  It’s much more torment and amusement, if it’s something really minor.  On my homeworld, I once made a woman feel herself every time she saw a horse.  That one was amusing, to be sure.”  Hamamelis laughed a little.

“That’s mean.”

“Yes.”

“What did you do to me?”

“I’ve found that it’s always much more fun to watch you find out for your own.”

“Okay, fine.  I’ll call Shona now.”  Violet found her purse and dialed her.

“Hello?”  The voice on the other end was cracked and weak.

“Hi, Shona?”

“Yes.  Hi, Violet.”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m not fired, am I?”

“Not if I can help it.  Look, you have to see something in person, or you wouldn’t believe me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to drive over and pick you up, okay?  You don’t need to dress up or anything.  Just keep that coat.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be over soon.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Violet rummaged through her drawers and found some sweatpants, a couple of t-shirts.  She was going to put one inside the other so that she could go without a bra.  She also found some sandals.  Altogether, it was very, very casual, but it would have to do.  Once assembled, she put them on as quickly as she could, grabbed her purse, and left the apartment.  She was fast enough that she barely itched.  She then headed down to the parking garage that was in the basement of the building.  In the elevator, she happened to encounter a local she knew, a woman who lived down the hall from her.  She was a local college student, supported by her very wealthy parents.  They were wealthy enough to pay for a suite in the trendy apartment building, anyway.  Violet didn’t know her name, but she knew she majored in economics at the University of Chicago, and she liked to throw parties.  Sometimes, the apartment would have to break them up, since they got a little raucous from time to time.

“Hey,” the young lady said.

Let’s hope nothing happens, Violet thought to herself.  “Hi.”  Violet looked over at her, taking notice that the shirt she was wearing showed up quite a bit of cleavage.  Violet tried not to stare.

“I’m hosting a party tomorrow night.  I know you’re older, but it would be cool if you came over.”

Probably not.  Hamamelis would get such a great thrill out of that.  Violet couldn’t afford the little devilspawn that.  “Thanks, but I have plans.”

“That’s cool.”  The young lady had larger than average breasts, that was for sure, but Violet wasn’t sure why her eyes kept trying to dart at her cleavage.  She briefly wondered what they might feel like, but she stopped and decided to focus on Shona.  The young woman left the elevator at the first floor, and Violet continued to the basement.  She made her way to her car, a practical sedan, and she started it up.  The trip to Shona’s house was uneventful, until she hit the rush hour traffic.  That was a beast.  However, she did make it.

Shona owned a small bungalow that was in the black part of town.  It was a nice little place, perfect for a single woman who liked to garden.  Violet made her way to the front door and knocked the same knock she had created for entering the office.  There was a delay, but Shona came out finally.  She showered, apparently, her hair wet and her makeup gone.  “Hi.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Sure,” she said, grabbing her purse.  They climbed into Violet’s car, and for the first five minutes of the trip, all was silent.  Finally, Shona said, “What’s going on?”

“Well…  I’m not sure if you’ll believe me.  I’ve been cursed, and apparently, the curse sort of rubbed off on you.”

“Um… That makes sense, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to take you to meet the one who cursed me, and maybe we can work things out.”

“Okay.  Where is he?”

“It’s a she actually, and she has taken up residence in my apartment.  I didn’t know how the curse worked until today, and now I’ve caused a lot of trouble.”

“I’ll say.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

“Really?  Who else?”

“Senator Bensen for one.”

“What?  He grew three boobs?”  She half smiled at the thought.

“No, just two.”

“Oh.  Wait, what?”

“Senator Bensen is now female.”

Shona contemplated that notion briefly.  “Like, a vagina and everything?”

“I’m not sure about that part, but he definitely looked like a woman when I left.”

“Okay.  That’s weird.  I mean, he doesn’t look like he used to?”

“No, and that could be a problem.”

“You don’t say.”

They drove on a few more blocks.  Shona continued the conversation.  “Anyone else?”

“I don’t know.  Myself, I guess.”

“Really?  You don’t look different to me.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to tell.  Hamamelis won’t let me wear panties anymore.”

“Hamamelis?”

“Yeah, that’s the little demon who cursed me.”

“So, you’re not wearing them now?”

“No.  I’m kind of getting used to it.”

“Huh.”

“She won’t let me wear clothes in my apartment, either.”

“Really?  So, when we go over there…”

“Yes.”

“What happens when you wear clothes?”

“They itch and burn.  Same with panties.”

“That’s bad.”

“Plus, there’s something else that I haven’t figured out yet.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I traded a change in myself for no more changes for you, and Hamamelis only told me it’s something in my head.”

“What do you mean no more changes for me?”

“The curse is that I change people around me.  I didn’t know what that meant, but Hamamelis is some sort of sex demon.  She delights in tormenting people with sex.  She’s terrible!”

“Oh.  Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.”

They were nearly there, when Shona spoke up again.  “They feel really good.”

“What do?”

“My boobs.”  There was a delay.  “When I touch them, they feel really soft and just pleasurable to be touched.”  She stopped again, apparently trying to figure out what she was going to say next, if she was going to say it.  “I got really wet… p… p… playing with them.”  She looked like she regretted saying it.

“Okay.”  Violet imagined her playing with them, and it looked sexy in her mind’s eye.  She switched topics.  “Listen.  Once things are figured out, I’m going to make sure you keep your job.”  She stopped the car in its parking space.

“Thanks.  I’m going to have to get the middle one removed, I think.”

“I did, too, but Hamamelis says it will just grow back.”

Shona was crushed.  She already had that part figured out, she thought.  “Really?”

“Yeah, magic, she said.”

“I’m going to kill that monster!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the garage.  There were people there, and they looked disturbed by the outburst.

“Shh… You will do no such thing.  She may look easy to kill, but she’s really, really quick.  She’s strong, too.  She moved my furniture around.”

“Yeah, well, you can move your furniture around.  What’s so special about that?”

“She’s less than a foot tall.”

“Oh.”

“And can do very bad things to you.  I didn’t have the clothing problem before I tried to catch her.”

“Oh.”

“She’s kind of scary.”

“What are you going to do about her?”

“I called my preacher.  He’s going to come over tomorrow night and do an exorcism.”

Shona looked incredulous.  “I didn’t think you were Catholic.”

“I’m not.  He’s a Baptist, like me, but he knows how to do it.  He says that as long as we have faith in Jesus, the demon will go away.”

“Alright.  I hope it works.”

“I know it will,” Violet said proudly.  “That’s what faith is about.”

Shona pondered that for a moment.  “Yeah.”

They approached Violet’s apartment door.  “Once we go in, I have to strip, okay?  You can look away or whatever.  If I don’t, I’ll be in pain really soon.”

“Hey, whatever you do in your house is your business!” Shona joked.  Violet smiled and opened the door, immediately undressing once it slammed shut.  Hamamelis was at the computer with a bent butter knife.  She was using it to hit keys on the keyboard.

“Hi, you two.  Welcome home, Violet.  Welcome to our home, Shona.”  She didn’t even look up, as she scooted the mouse around, shaking her bare booty in a sexy way as she scrolled and clicked.  They both slowly got nearer to Hamamelis, as she worked the machine.  It looked incredibly inconvenient for a person of her size.  Shona was amazed at the sight.  She knew this was the enemy, but she was curious about her, too.  What a strange creature.  As they got close enough, they made out that Hamamelis was working on a Facebook page.

“You have a Facebook account?” Violet asked.

“Yep.  I made it earlier today.”

“Uh, what could possibly be on it?”

“Oh, I just told a little about myself and what I do.  I’ve been thinking about updating what happens with your curse, but I don’t know if I want to do that.”

“Do you have any friends on it?”

“There are a few.  No one thinks I’m real, but that’s okay.  We’ll fix that, won’t we?”

God, I hope not, Violet thought.  “Uh, yeah…”

Hamamelis turned around.  Though Shona was seeing her for the first time, Violet noticed a distinct difference in her usual look.  She had a third breast, just like Shona.  “Now, why did you have to go and mimic Shona?  Haven’t you done enough to her?”  Violet had to admit it; it did look kind of cute.

“Mimic?  No, I’m just showing solidarity.  Now, Shona, what did the doctor say when you called him last?”

“Um…  What are you?” Shona asked.

“An imp, but it’s rude to ask a new question without answering the first one.  I do it all the time, but then, I’m an imp, and I’m supposed to be rude.”

“Um…”  Shona was amazed at the tiny woman standing before her.  She had seen some strange stuff today, that was sure, but this almost took the cake.  “Well, he said it was impossible.  He asked which breast it was underneath, and I said it was between the two, and he said that was even more impossible.  He said something about a nipple line, I think.  Anyway, I have an appointment at four tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes, proper anatomy and developmental biology.  I’ve never liked those rules.  I don’t know if Violet told you, but getting surgery won’t work.  You’ll just change back.”

“Yeah, she told me.”  Shona was getting angry again.

“What I do cannot be undone, you have to understand.  I can’t even undo my own magic, so I have to be careful with my creativity.”

“You didn’t have to get creative with me in the first place!”

“Yeah, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.  You could have chosen to do something else.”

“Do you choose to breathe?”

“No, but…”

“Well, changing people in sexy ways is what I do.  It’s like breathing.  If I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t have a purpose.  If I don’t have a purpose, I can’t exist, simple as that.  Now, is your inconvenience worth someone else’s life?”

“No, but…”

“Of course not.  You’ll just have to deal with it.”

“It’s okay, Shona,” said Violet.  “We’ll figure something out.”

“I know.”  Shona removed the coat she was wearing, revealing an old t-shirt, probably one that belonged to an old boyfriend.  A faded Insane Clown Posse picture adorned the front, but her nipples, all three of them, drew more attention.

“Are they always that stiff?” Violet asked, all of a sudden very interested.

“What?”

“Your nipples.”

“I think so.”  She flicked one, and for a moment, there was a look of pleasure on her face.

“Wow,” Violet said as she just stared at them.

“Uh, yeah.  Wow.”  Shona was annoyed with both Violet and Hamamelis now.

Violet shook her head to clear it.  “I’m sorry.  I’m feeling odd.”  Hamamelis started whistling some weird tune.  “What?” Violet demanded.

“Oh, nothing.”  Hamamelis snickered.

“Oh, come on!”

“You’re not good at understanding magic yet, that’s all.”

Violet was hoping she wouldn’t have to understand anything about magic soon.  “What do you mean?”

“You’re smarter than that!”

Violet pondered the meaning for a moment.  “It’s about that other thing you did to me, right?  About my head?”

“Yup.”

“What about it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Fine.”

All three stayed silent for a bit.  The evening news was coming on soon, so Violet tuned in.  There were the usual instances of crimes around the city, a fire or two, and interviews with people on the street that embarrassed Violet and Shona to be residents of the city.  Then, there was a brief item.  “State Senator Bensen of Chicago was missing today.  A brief 911 call was made indicating that he was having a heart attack, but when paramedics arrived, both he and his secretary were missing.  An unidentified woman was found in his office.  She claimed to be Senator Bensen.  She is currently in custody.  The records of the original 911 call are missing.”

“Oops,” said Hamamelis.

“What do you mean, ‘oops?’” Violet asked.

“Well, I do my best to keep you out of legal trouble, and I did you a favor on that 911 call.  You’re much less useful to me locked up, though a female jailhouse orgy would be kind of fun.”

Violet didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“By the way, would you like to know all of the other havoc you caused today?”

“I caused?  Bah, you caused.”

“Either way, would you like to know?”

“Uh…  I guess.”  Violet wasn’t sure.  She was feeling guilty enough.  Suddenly, the television switched channels to something else.  Violet and Shona paid attention.

“First, the bus stop!” Hamamelis said.  “Roger the maintenance man just happened to talk to you about your day, and you just had to make his day a little—well, I wouldn’t call it little, I suppose—more difficult.”  The screen showed Violet talking to Roger, then switched to him going into his building.  He stopped at a restroom and entered a stall.

“It’s rude to watch people undress!” Shona screeched at Hamamelis.

“Yes, it is.  Let’s watch.”  Roger pulled down his pants and underwear to reveal an enormous phallus.  It was limp, but it looked to be about six inches long.  Both women gasped.  “Well, given time, his wife might be happy.  Getting in will be a bit difficult, but it’s a good thing that she’s had a few children to loosen up the passageway.  Now, about Karen the intern.”  The screen changed scenes to Karen, a confused look on her face, walking into yet another restroom.  She slipped into a stall, lifted her skirt, and dropped her panties.  She was looking at her groin.  At first, the audience didn’t know what was happening, but then they saw movement from her vagina.  Karen covered her own mouth to stifle a scream.  Inside of her vaginal canal, a tongue moved.  Karen seemed to have control over it, and she extended it a full six inches from her pussy.  She moved it around, in and out.  It looked as if it was providing her with some pleasure, and she stopped.  Looking around, she pulled up her panties and awkwardly left the room.  “Yeah, she’ll have some explaining to do to her boyfriend, though I fear she’ll go to the doctor first.  Surgery would work out about the same way it would for you, Shona.  Oh well.”

“That’s not as bad as mine, though,” Shona said.

“I suppose not, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.  Now, about Mrs. Hammer.”  As the television showed Violet leaving the wardrobe department with Shona’s coat, Mrs. Hammer was returning to her seat.  She noticed a dress stuck between two pieces of frame on a clothing rack, and she gave it a pull to dislodge it.  It didn’t come out, but Mrs. Hammer fell backward, her arm staying with the dress.  Looking at it and then her shoulder which was clearly missing the appendage, she screamed.  She was wearing a tanktop, and it was clear that there was smooth skin on her shoulder where her arm should be.

“That’s terrible!” Violet said.  “She needs that to work!”

“Just you wait.  There is a limit to my cruelty.”  Mrs. Hammer’s arm then dropped from the dress.  She got up and approached it and saw it move.  She looked closer, and it was apparent that she was controlling the arm, still.  Confused, she reached down and picked it up, daintily examining it.  She then cautiously brought the upper arm up to her shoulder, and suddenly, with a soft pop, it reconnected.  She experimented in the room for a short bit, and it was clear that she could detach and reattach her arms at will, though pulling on stuck things apparently still caused an involuntary detachment.  “Plus, I didn’t realize it at the time, but Mr. and Mrs. Hammer like to play bondage games.  This is already working out for them.”  The screen switched to the two in sexual congress, Mrs. Hammer’s arms nowhere to be seen, and Mr. Hammer pounding away.  They appeared to be quite happy.  As the scene was coming to an end, Mrs. Hammer was loudly moaning in ecstasy.

“That’s fucked up!” Shona said.

“Whatever, Triceratits.  It’s all supposed to be fucked up.  It’s what I do.”

Shona swallowed back some of her anger.  Being angry at that thing would only be trouble.  Violet had told her that.

“Violet’s next victim is Vera from Senator Bensen’s office.”  Apparently, earlier in the day, she was rushing from her desk to the bathroom, and the screen followed her there, a rather embarrassing looking stain appearing on her derriere.  She ran into a stall and stripped off her skirt.  She quickly did the same with her panties.  It looked like some sort of fluid was dribbling out her ass, and her panties were clearly soaked.  She felt back there, suddenly surprised.  The screen zoomed into what had happened.  Her anus was gone, apparently replaced by a very excited vulva, apparently turned one hundred eighty degrees.  That is, her new clitoris was at the top, near her tailbone, and her vaginal opening was just below where her anus would have been.  In no time, the very horny Vera was fingering both of her clits, bucking around in the bathroom stall.  When she climaxed, she immediately set to work fixing the situation of her soiled clothes, and then, she could hear the sirens.

“How does she poop now?” Violet inquired.

“She doesn’t.  It just sort of disappears.  Well, actually, it is teleported to another dimension, a useless wasteland.  It could use the fertilizer, actually, so I’m doing a bit of useful outsourcing.”

“Oh.  That’s not so bad.  Why was she so horny?”

“Oh, she’s always had a healthy libido, but now, it’s sort of doubled, and the fun part is that the new pussy is very productive when wet.  She’ll have to adjust a bit, but she’s going to have a very satisfying sex life for some time.”

“That’s kind of mean.”

Hamamelis shrugged.“Well, next up,” she continued, “we have Senator Bensen.  He, rather, she is well-known to Violet, but let’s take a look at her now.”  The TV now showed a lovely young woman laying on a hospital bed, presently surrounded by medical personnel.  It was apparent that no one believed that she was Senator Bensen.  “What’s going to be funny is that when they print her, she’ll show up as the good Senator.  When they do a retina scan, the same.  Hell, when they get to the DNA, it’s exactly the same.  I could change it, of course, but that’s extra work, and the magic can change stuff without changing it.  Of course, they’ll find no signs of surgery.  It will be confusing, until you do some more of my mischief, Violet.”

“I won’t!” she responded.

“Well, you’ll have to starve to death in your apartment then, won’t you?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Violet said.

“I can move on to someone else.  Shona, are you interested in my company?”

“Fuck you!” Shona shouted.

“We can do that.  It sounds like fun.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I am under no other obligation than my honor in not changing you further.  If you get too much on my nerves, I’ll have you know that my honor doesn’t go too far, me being a demon and all.”

Shona took a few seconds to process this.  “Okay.”

“Ooh, look, the medical folks are finally leaving!” Hamamelis said.  The people, having apparently reached the point at which they should give up, left Senator Bensen’s room.  The young woman got out of her bed and headed into the bathroom in her private room.  She looked around, apparently for cameras, and the television’s view simply followed her in.  She pealed her gown off, revealing a nice set of breasts with faint nipples.  She squeezed one, gasping.  Violet gasped, too.  Violet was getting wet watching it.  She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of that gorgeous rack.  Granted, there was an even more impressive one on the couch next to her, but Senator Bensen couldn’t look back.  Violet had the urge to touch those breasts.

“Violet!” Shona snapped.

Violet sat straight up.  “What?”

“Why were you playing with your breasts?”

She just realized that she had been.

“I…  I… wasn’t?” she said sheepishly.  Not being stupid, she then looked over at Hamamelis who was now on the armrest nearest her.  She was leaning forward, swaying back and forth so that all three of her little demon titties were bouncing in rhythm like a Newton’s cradle.  She was giving a wicked smirk.

Hamamelis said, “Of course you were.  Why wouldn’t you?  I mean look at that chick on the screen.”  She pointed to the television, where Senator Bensen was now exploring her genitals.  “Those boobs are beautiful.  You just love boobs, don’t you?” she asked, poisoned honey dripping from her words.

Violet stammered, “No, I’m straight.  I don’t like to look at other girls… br…  buh…”  She couldn’t say a proper word for them at the moment.  “Uh, boobs,” she finally let out.

“Sure you do.”

“I…”  She looked over at Shona who suddenly tried to cover her exotic bosom.  The squeezing involved made the sofa damp under Violet’s crotch.  “What did you do?”

“Remember our bargain about not doing anything else to Shona?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I changed you in your head.  You love knockers now.  You love everything about them.  You love their shape.  You love how they can fill out a woman’s figure.  You love their texture, that nice soft skin.  You like how they feel when you squeeze them.  You love those cute nipples adorning them.  You like breasts, the bigger the better, the more exotic the better.”

Violet was trying hard to resist the urge to masturbate.  She kept moving her hands from the couch to her sides, to out in front of her, to anywhere.  She desperately wanted to play with someone’s boobs right now.  Her own were fun.  They’re weren’t that big, but they were alright… and perky!  Yeah, that’s what they were.  Other women’s boobs would be more fun to touch, though.  She didn’t know why, but they could be.  She didn’t want to kiss another woman, though.  She didn’t want to touch her nether regions or even her legs.  It was just those tantalizing tits.  “I’m not a lesbian,” she blurted out.

“I know.  You’re only a little bit bisexual now and only in a very, very particular way.  Now, let’s find out how Faith is doing.”

“Faith?” Violet asked.

“You know that busty young lady down the hall.  You met her in the elevator.”  Hamamelis stressed the word “busty.”  Violet remembered, as the television switched to an unknown apartment.  There was Faith, bidding her apartment mates goodbye as they left.  She walked into a bedroom, closed the door, and began to strip.  Violet noted the lovely orbs that gently swayed upon her chest.  She lit a series of aromatherapy candles and spread out on her bed, feeling herself up and down.

“What?  You made her masturbate?” Shona asked.

“No, she does that on her own—quite the prolific self-pleasurer, if I read her right.”

Faith started to rub her denuded twat, apparently trying to get a good start, but something was very wrong.  She sat up with a look of panic.  The television screen zoomed into what Faith saw: her pussy was missing its clitoris.  Faith began getting upset, but it was clear that she was hopelessly aroused.

“You bitch!” Shona shouted at Hamamelis.

“I warned you.  I’m giving you a little more for that outburst.”  Suddenly, Violet didn’t know whether to watch the horror show on TV or the one on her couch.  “It won’t be too bad, of course, but for now on, Shona, you will get horny when someone admires your uncommon cleavage.”

Shona was a bit embarrassed by this, and she was already feeling a bit turned on, and she knew exactly why.  Violet was already a known fan for tits.  Shona figured she’d just suck it up.  She’d made out with a girl once, so it didn’t kill her.  Well, she was embarrassed by the experience, and she was quite drunk at the time.  Maybe Violet had some booze in the apartment.  She’d have to look into that later.  A stiff drink was sounding more and more inviting.

On screen, Faith had apparently found a modest vibrator in her drawer and was inserting it.  Apparently, she found something, because she became a rolling, roiling, thrashing sprawl of feminine ecstasy.  “Ah, yes, you see, I didn’t get rid of her lady button.  I just moved it onto the cervix—you know, that nub at the top of your vagina… on the inside.  Plus, there’s another one there for good measure.  Oh, she’ll be really excited by penetration from now on.  Most girls aren’t.  Well, most girls like it and even love it, but the real action is an inch forward of the vaginal opening, you know.”

The two humans sat still a while and then discussed what to do about work.  It was agreed that they could both call in sick, at least for tomorrow.  They would play the rest by ear.  By that point, both were feeling intensely horny.  Shona inquired about alcohol, and Violet explained that Southern Baptists were teetotalers.

“Well, look, I really need some lovin’ right now, and I’ve made it with a girl before.  Well, we were both at a party, and we wanted attention, and we were pretty drunk.  I know you want to play with my boobs, and I really want you to play with them, too.”  Shona was getting desperate.  She felt prom night levels of lust, and given the general psychic weakness in her life at the moment, sex was looking very, very tantalizing.

“Um…  That’s a sin,” was all that Violet could muster.

“Yeah, probably so, but I don’t think you’ll go to hell for it.”

“Um…”  Man, those three boobs on Shona’s chest were looking inviting.  Shona wasn’t covering them anymore, and the nipples were standing out in their full glory.  They were big nipples, too, and Violet could see their deep chocolate color beneath the thin fabric of the t-shirt.  “Okay.  Just for now.”

Shona stripped off said t-shirt and lay back on the couch.  What was she doing?  She was going to let her boss play with her tits—all three of them!  Oh well, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.  Violet reluctantly leaned in and felt the outline of the breasts, caressing them and analyzing their textures.  Every tactile sensation was both satisfying and alluring, driving her to feel even more.  She gave up her overly gentle approach, though, when it was apparent that she was really just teasing Shona, and Shona didn’t need to be teased.  She began pinching and rolling those nipples, and Shona started to moan.

Violet’s handiwork was heaven.  Shona had never really been that turned on by breastplay before, but this was divine.  That transformation had made her boobs really erogenous.  When Violet pinched her nipples, she almost felt it in her clit.  “Hold on,” she said breathily.  Quickly, Shona stripped away her sweatpants and panties in one nearly fluid motion.  “Continue.”  Now, Violet was playing with the outer nipples with her hands and suckling the middle one.  Shona almost involuntarily began masturbating.

Violet could tell that Shona was masturbating, and she didn’t care.  The feeling was intense.  There she was, probably dripping her own pussy juices onto Shona below her, and all she could really think about was how awesome these boobs were.  Plus, the middle one literally tasted like chocolate.  When—nay if—she really thought about it, she would think that was pretty weird, but for now, there was only now.  Then, she heard a howl.  It was Shona, apparently in the throes of a potent orgasm.

Shona felt like she was on fire but in a very good way.  It was like everything she felt in her nipples she felt on her clit and vice versa.  Her whole body tingled magically, and her head filled with visions of glorious landscapes with teeming life.  It was as if ley lines were connecting her erogenous zones to each other and amplifying the enormous pleasure that coursed through her body.  In short, it was easily the best orgasm that she had ever experienced.  Indeed, she had no idea if it lasted a few seconds or an hour, but as it wore off, she felt immensely satisfied and looked down at the wide eyes of Violet.  Shona felt grateful to her, but she could tell that Violet looked a bit shocked.  “It’s okay.  Thank you,” Shona finally said.

“Okay,” Violet replied.  Her curiosity about Shona’s boobs was satisfied, but she knew that they might be fun to play with later.  Still, she could feel her vaginal secretions running down her leg.  Her genitals were so swollen with wanton lust that she could feel her pulse down there.  She once saw a female housecat in heat looking for a tomcat.  That cat was crawling around in a way that she could relate to it now, as she would do anything short of violence at the moment in order to get some satisfaction.

Shona could sense this, too.  She knew what she needed to do.  “Go lie on your bed and spread your legs, okay,” she said.  The couch was not the best venue for a pussy-licking.

“Okay.”  Violet walked sensuously to her bedroom, but she didn’t really intend to.  Her hormones simply required it.

Shona approached the bed and simply crawled up to Violet’s virgin snatch.  She’d only done this once, and she was drunk and sloppy.  At the moment, she felt like she was kind of drugged.  The residual ecstasy from that whopper of an orgasm seemed to cloud her judgment, but she would deal with that later.  For now, she knew that she just needed to lick.  She focused her attention on the space between the clitoris and the opening to the vaginal canal, gently licking and eliciting happy moans from Violet.  She tried licking her clitoris directly, causing Violet to buck and squirm involuntarily.  She kept at it, though, licking and then sucking on the cute little love button while surreptitiously inserting her index finger into Violet’s quivering pussy.  Suddenly, Violet went into spasms, grasping a pillow over her mouth to stifle the screams.  Shona redoubled her efforts and was accidentally kicked in her side by a flailing foot.  It wasn’t hard, though, and finally, after what must have been five minutes of this, Violet collapsed, cooing.

She couldn’t really see straight, and the colors of the room were a bit off in her head.  She just stared off, panting.  She felt like she had just had a great workout but with something more, a lot more.  She was about to sit up and thank her secretary, but she instead just passed out, a wide and brilliant smile on her face.  Violet covered her with blankets, turned out the lights, and cuddled up.  Why not?  She didn’t have any other beds that she knew of, and she was too lazy at the moment to find more bedding.  She was breathing heavily herself.  Her face was covered in pussy juice and saliva.  She was tired.  Despite her day’s troubles, she felt fantastic as she drifted off to sleep.  Somehow, Violet curled around her, her left hand gently grasping her center breast.

Hamamelis smiled.  While she liked the trouble she inflicted, she liked the pleasure she caused even more.  It was always really satisfying.  Plus, she could feel her power grow.

Stay tuned for “The Puzzlebox Curse, Part 2,” in which:

Jenna makes an unexpected visit, instigating an epic new plague on mankind!

Violet’s pastor and his wife pay a visit and learn to question their faith more thoroughly!

Violet willingly and happily loses her (coital) virginity and a somewhat unexpected way!

Society finds that magic does exist, and it’s as sexy as Hell!

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The Puzzle Box Curse, Part 2

The walk of shame, as it is often called, is bad enough on its own.  It’s even worse when you just did something sexually that you always considered sinful, perverted, and socially unacceptable.  For Violet, these factors were compounded by her magical mandate to remain nude in her own apartment at all times.  When she woke up, her hand was involuntarily massaging the central breast that her secretary and friend had grown yesterday.  That Shona’s third breast existed was a problem, but Violet was also psychologically compelled to enjoy every aspect of bosoms.  She felt a tingle in her unmentionable regions just thinking about having groped that beautiful and yet grotesque feature.

            It was 6:30 in the morning, so Violet felt that she should make an effort to freshen up.  Her legs were a bit crusty with dried vaginal secretions and Shona’s saliva, and she felt that the sweat she generated had given her a sensuous but socially awkward funk.  In light of these things, a shower was certainly in order.  When she entered her bathroom, a small red figure was perched atop the showerhead, grinning widely at her.  Hamamelis was the source of her troubles, a demon bent on perverting the bodies and minds of all who came into contact with Violet.  She came from a puzzlebox that Violet had almost accidentally bought at a curio shop in a redneck vacation area in Missouri.  Hamamelis cursed her to inadvertently transform anyone she interacted with personally.  She’d changed people sexually without meaning to, and now she felt as if she were under siege in her own home, a posh apartment in downtown Chicago.

            “What are you going to do now?” Hamamelis asked.

            A scowl developed on Violet’s face.  “I’m going to take a shower and then call in sick.”

“You can’t be a recluse forever!” Hamamelis teased.

“I’ll do the best I can for now,” Violet answered, remembering that her pastor was coming over later to undo the damage.  She just had to make it until the evening.  As she prepared the shower, she realized that she had no food.  She had just come back from a vacation, and there was virtually nothing that she prepare with what she had.  Violet didn’t envy the pizza delivery person who would inevitably come over later.

After her shower and calling in for herself and Shona, Violet went to awaken her secretary.  “Wake up, Shona.  We need to figure out what to do.”

Shona groaned, blinked, and then sighed, when she realized that she hadn’t just had the most fucked up nightmare ever.  Looking at the nude Violet next to her, Shona decided to lighten up the mood.  “If I’m gonna go down on you again, you’d better lose the beaver.”

Taken aback, Violet nearly shouted, “Hamamelis!  I thought you weren’t going to change her anymore!”

Hamamelis poked her head out from a light fixture.  “I didn’t.”  She put on her best innocence face, something that was not at all convincing.

“Relax, boss.  Despite everything, I had fun.  I don’t want these,” she nearly gasped, as she briefly hefted her abundant bosom, “but that was some pretty good sex!  Now, don’t you mistake me.  I’ve had better with an old boyfriend of mine, but that was definitely the best girl-sex I’ve ever had.”

Violet’s blush was about the deepest she ever had.  “Um, thank you?  That was a terrible sin, though!  I need to repent!”  That blush was mostly in embarrassment, but a bit of it was excitement at seeing Shona display that enticing rack of hers.  “I can’t go through life looking at boobs!  Homosexuality is evil!”

Hamamelis snickered.

“What?”

“Oh, you silly religious people, going on about that.  Besides, you’re not really homosexual.  Just think of all of the handsome guys of the world, their powerful masculinity, their cut muscles, their tight butts, their oh-so-satisfying cocks!  Just imagine one right now!  It’s proof of your bisexuality!”

Violet briefly did, and she was pleased by her mental images of beefcake, but she caught herself.  “I’m not falling for it, your corruption.”

Hamamelis bared a wicked grin.  She loved the fundamentalists.  It wasn’t that she liked corrupting people in general.  That wasn’t really her game when it all came down to it.  Still, people bent on following some set of arbitrary sexual mores were just too much fun to pass up.  Convincing a straight guy with a sexually liberated attitude to engage in a bit of homoerotic behavior was never very interesting.  The same situation with a fundamentalist religious person, though…  That was always worthwhile.  Watch them kick and squirm as they do things they hate, loving them the whole time.  It wasn’t the corruption at all.  It was the torment.

“Anyway, Violet, I’m just saying that you should get with the times and get rid of the pubes,” Shona said.  “It’s a common grooming standard, these days.”

“Yeah, whatever.  I think doing anything sexual right now would just be kowtowing to her.”

“Okay, it’s cool.”  Shona realized that her boss was in a mood.  Still, she wouldn’t mind doing what they did again.  It did feel really good.

“Um, I thought we’d order enough pizza to make it through the day.  You can stay here.”

“Okay, but who answers the door?” Shona asked, realizing that what would normally be a rather mundane question had a great deal of gravity.

“I don’t want to embarrass you anymore than you need to be, an innocent bystander and all,” Violet said.

“Okay.  What about the delivery person?” Shona asked.

“Oh, they get to see me naked.  It might make some fellow’s day.  I think that a quick interaction won’t do too much harm.”  Violet knew that she just had to make it until the evening.  The exorcism should do the trick.

“Alright, boss.  Your call.”  The two ordered online, getting enough pizza to keep themselves satisfied for a day and maybe breakfast.  It wasn’t the healthiest of choices, but that was not much of a factor for the temporary fix.  After ordering online, emails were checked, and things seemed okay.  Finally, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ve got it,” Violet said.  Breathing deep for courage, she stepped to the door in her birthday suit.  She then opened the door to the delight of the young man before her.

“Sign here, miss.”  He was ogling her, and why not?  Anyone who answers a knock from a pizza delivery man in the nude has to expect a certain degree of lewd staring.  Most who would do so desire it.

“Thanks,” Violet said, as she signed the receipt and received the stack of hot pizza boxes.  She then shut the door, her face flush with embarrassment.  Upon opening the first box, Hamamelis swooped down, apparently suspended by a tiny vine attached to the ceiling, and snatched a piece of pepperoni.  This startled Violet, and she fell back on her butt.

“Oh chill out.  I don’t have to eat, but if I get to steal food this way, it is fun.”

“Okay, what did you do to him?” she asked.

“The pizza guy?”

“Yes.”

“I changed his ejaculation.  If uninterrupted, he can ejaculate thirty feet in the air.  Every orgasm, he will produce a full pint of spunk!  Sexual congress will get very messy for him, but it should be a fun thing.”

“Okay, that’s not too bad, I suppose,” said Violet.

“I’d like to see that!” said Shona.

“Shona!  Don’t encourage her!”

“I’m just saying.  I mean, you can’t tell with his change.  I’m the freak here.”

Violet just simmered for a bit.  Food was eaten, and the two women decided to have a quiet day watching television and browsing the web.  All was going well, until they heard a ring of the doorbell.  That was bad.  There weren’t many people who would be able to get outside of their door to ring the bell, since the apartment had a good deal of security.  Apartment personnel could, as well as fellow tenants.  Violet approached the door to look out.  Shit!  It was Jenna.  She had a grocery bag in one hand and a spare key to Violet’s door in the other.

Jenna wasn’t a fellow resident, but Violet did entrust her with a key, and she had developed a very friendly relationship with one of the doormen.  Well, the relationship wasn’t much as far as friendliness went, since they met in a club, and they occasionally just hooked up.  Violet managed to retreat to behind the kitchen counter before Jenna opened the door.

“Hey Violet!” she called out.  Violet temporarily kept her cover.  “I heard you were sick today, so I brought you some stuff.”  Violet, resigned to the situation, raised her head above the counter level.

“Okay, but you really shouldn’t be here!” Violet said.

“Oh, it’s no worry.  The weather was so nice, our boss let us all go.  Why are you crouched in the kitchen?”

Violet sighed and stood up.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I caught you at a bad time.”

“Well, I guess you could say that.”

“It’s alright, though.  I don’t mind nudity.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s not just that.”

“Oh?” Jenna asked.

Suddenly, Hamamelis swung into the room from a series of strings hung from the ceiling.  Each disappeared after Hamamelis finished brachiated from it.  “Ta da!” she said.

Jenna barely stifled a scream.  “What the fuck is that?” she asked, backing away from Hamamelis who had taken a spot on the countertop.

“Um, that, or rather she, is what’s keeping me from work.”

Hamamelis butted in, “I’m glad you consider me more than some object.”

“What is she?” Jenna asked, letting her own curiosity get the better of her.

“She is a curse from that little box I bought in Missouri.”

“Curse?”

“Yeah, you’re not going to like it, but I think it’s too late.  Basically, whoever I talk to, Hamamelis—that’s her name—changes in a perverted way.”

“Um, you realize you’re talking to me, right?” Jenna asked.  Given the presence of a tiny red demon woman on the table, Jenna was prepared to believe anything that Violet told her, and she was certainly a quick thinker.

“Yeah, but I think it’s too late now.  It’s why I didn’t call you.”

“Uh, okay.  Perverted?  What do you mean?”

“Well, you remember Shona, my secretary?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s here, and I’m sure she’s listening.  If she’s willing, she can show you.”

There was some shuffling in the bedroom, and Shona emerged, wearing a sweater and sweat pants.  “I guess if you’re the next victim, you might as well see what’s up.”

Despite her quick wit and reasoning ability, it took Jenna about ten seconds to register what happened.  “I’m going to grow another boob?”

“Nope,” said Hamamelis.  “At least, not this time.”

Jenna turned to the imp.  “What then?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out!” she responded, finishing by blowing a raspberry.

Jenna started to move aggressively toward the tormentor, but Violet interjected.  “Don’t.  I tried that, and now I can’t wear clothes in my apartment.”  Jenna relaxed.

“Okay, I see.”

“But please, you should leave, because exposure time seems to affect the severity of the curse.”

“Okay,” she said.  “I’ll leave you this sherbert, chicken soup, and 7-Up.”

Quick good-byes were exchanged, and Violet turned to Hamamelis.  “What did you do?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Any hints?”

“Nope.”

“Did you do something to her private parts?”

“Nope.”

“Well, whatever you did, it wasn’t apparent.”

“Nope.”

“Did you mess with her head like you did with mine?”

“Nah, hers is pretty perverted, and it wouldn’t be that fun to mess with.”

“It can’t be too bad, then.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.  It’s my most aggressive change yet!”

Some time later, Violet heard the apartment buzzer.  She looked at the little screen by her door and saw Pastor Morris and his wife Isabel.  Violet quickly hit the “Enter” button, and the two proceeded into the building.

“Who is that?” asked Hamamelis.

“Friends,” Violet responded coldly.

“Uh huh.  You wouldn’t let friends in to see me.”

“Well, I am, okay?”

“Uh huh.  Well, I look forward to their visit then.”  Hamamelis had an unusual smirk on her face.

Soon enough, Mr. and Mrs. Morris knocked on the apartment door.  Violet cracked it open, just enough to show her face.  “Hi.”

“Hello, Ms. Harlowe,” Pastor Morris responded.

“Uh, the demon won’t let me wear clothes, so I want to apologize for my state.”

Pastor Morris blushed, and Mrs. Morris’s eyes widened.  Still, they came in.  Shona kept hidden in the bedroom, not knowing what was going on.  Violet figured that keeping her in the dark about this was for the best, since she didn’t want Hamamelis to be able to anticipate what was happening.  The two walked in, Mr. Morris trying to keep his gaze in a decent direction.

“Okay,” said Mrs. Morris.  “I went to a conference, and I think I know what to do.  The demon isn’t in your apartment; it’s in you, so I must exorcize you!”  She spun to face Violet, but suddenly Hamamelis perched herself atop Violet’s left shoulder, staring coldly at the apparent contender.  “In the name of Jesus Christ, Jehova our God, and the Holy Spirit!” she said, clearly controlling her own fear, since she did not expect any physical manifestations of demons, “I command you to left this woman!”

Hamamelis lurched and staggered backward off of Violet’s shoulder.  “You cannot stop me!” she shrieked back.

“No, but God can!” she nearly shouted.  Pastor Morris was busy readying his Bible and an ornate cross.  “In the name of the Holy Trinity, I command you to return to the depths of Hell from whence you came!”

Hamamelis expressed great fear, as she inched backward toward the coffee table.  “Fuck your God!” she responded.  The lights began to flicker in the apartment, and a strange haze manifested.  “See my own power!” she screeched.

Pastor Morris thrust forth his cross, reciting the story of Legion the demon.  “You too shall leave this woman!  Be gone, foul spawn!  In Christ’s name I command you!”

Hamamelis hissed, as she hopped atop the Puzzle Box.  The room was becoming choked in fog and the stench of brimstone began to permeate the air.  “You are nothing in comparison to my power!” she spat.  “Your God is nothing to me!”

“In the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the Almighty God, I condemn you to return to the torments of Hell, foul demon!”  Pastor Morris again thrust his cross forward, and the room was blasted with bright light, as it shook violently.  Hamamelis clutched her chest, groaning and screeching out.  She collapsed to her knees and then fell, dead upon the Puzzle Box.

In seconds, the air cleared, only a slight sulfurous odor remaining.  Various items in the room had clearly been perturbed by the quake, and Hamamelis’ body lie slightly smoldering atop the her cursed box.  Violet stared in amazement, and the Morrises were clearly impressed.  Indeed, they seemed to be exhilarated by their success and their efforts.

“You want to talk about it?” Mrs. Morris asked.

Remembering that Shona was in the back and probably didn’t want to come out, Violet responded, “No.  I think I want to rest.”

“All is well now, Child of God,” Pastor Morris said.  “We’ll let you get some sleep.”

With that, the two departed.  However, a careful observer would have noted that Hamamelis carefully opened one eye in a squint as the two left.  That same observer would have also seen the wicked grin that slowly grew on her face.

Violet turned back to the apartment, as Shona carefully eased out of the bedroom.  Violet looked at Hamamelis who was lying still on her coffee table.  “I think she’s dead.”  She approached the tiny imp and kneeled before the table for a closer look.

And then, “Boo!”  Violet fell backward in fright, and Shona screamed.  Hamamelis got back to her feet and proudly put her hands on her hips.  “That was fun, but I’ve seen better,” she said.

Violet looked at the terrible demon and was barely choking back tears.  “But, they exorcized you!”

“They tried to, yes.”

“I saw you die.”

“You saw me acting.  Can I get an Emmy?  I think that I could be the first to get an Emmy for both acting and special effects, don’t you think?”

“It didn’t work, then,” Violet said.

“Of course not.  I’m not part of Judeo-Christian lore.  Besides, Baptists?  Seriously?  They couldn’t exorcize a retarded incubus.  They have no style.  Catholics are a lot better at it.  Well, both are as easy to defeat.  More accurately, both are as easy to ignore.  I just like to put on a show to make them go away.”

Violet was about to say something about the power of God, but she held it back.  Presently, the evidence was not on the side of God being omnipotent.  “Damn.”

“Yup, I’m pretty badass.  Well, that was fun, and I think you should be punished.”

“No, don’t!  I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t.  It didn’t work, and you’re not that stupid.  That said, you will likely be more pliable for me in the future.  I’m adding a little something to your clothing restrictions.  From now on, the only thing you can wear on your hips and legs are skirts and dresses that go no more than three inches below your crotch.  Plus, you can say goodbye to that bush you sport around this apartment.  It keeps blocking my view of that pretty little pussy of yours.”  Instantly, Violet’s pubic hair drifted to the floor, leaving perfectly bald mound.

Violet felt awful.  She was going to have to be even more slutty, and it was going to be hard to keep passers-by from viewing her really naked privates.  This was not good.

“I will tell you what, though.  Our relationship does need to change some.  I am going to lift the main part of your curse, as long as you do some work for me.”

Violet’s face immediately brightened.  “What kind of work?”

“Well, first off, we can’t have you going around without some kind of curse, so I’ve devised an alternative.  It’s less intrusive, though that will depend on you and your willpower.  I am giving you the ability to change breasts as you want.  You can change any breasts you can see, but the catch is that you can only change them in ways that you want them to change.  You like big boobs, now right?”

Violet nodded.

“Well, that means there’s no making ‘em smaller.  You like perky tits and luscious nipples.  You can’t make them otherwise.  You have to be careful then, because you won’t be able to undo your damage.”

Violet nodded.  She could do without this power, but it was better than the chaos she was causing before.  “You said something about a job, too.”

“Yeah, I’m going to want you to run some errands for me, but I’ll tell you about that in due time.  For now, you should probably realize that you’re going to go to your normal work tomorrow.  I’ll alert you to any jobs I want you to do.”

“What about me?” asked Shona.  “I can’t go around with these?”

“Sure you can,” Hamamelis said.  “Dress conservatively.”

The following morning, Violet snuck Shona to her house in order to find something semi-professional that sufficiently covered her triplicate assets.  A stop at a drug store yielded some breast pads.  After taping them onto Shona’s nipples, they were good enough for the purpose of preventing nipple poking.  When in the store, Violet was paranoid of her fanny, and looking at items on the bottom shelves was a terrifying task.  She couldn’t bend over nor squat for fear of exposing herself.  She had to quickly get down on both knees, something that she was unhappy with, since it made her conspicuous in the sense of being odd.  Fortunately, the trip was uneventful.

Violet managed to find parking in the garage beneath the company’s building—something that wasn’t always easy to do.  The two women walked into the building and decided to take an alternate route to their offices.  The elevators appeared to be very popular, so they took the stairs up the five flights necessary.  In that building, the doorways for the stairs opened at the ends of hallways, where there were no offices or other busy places.  Instead, on a typical floor, there were janitors’ closets, store-rooms, and network server closets.  It was from such a room that Violet and Shona heard a woman’s moans.  Whether they were from distress or pleasure, neither could tell.

“Should we take a look?” Shona whispered.

Violet paused, then said, “Yes.”  Violet thought that if was distress, then the woman would need help.  The door to the storage room was locked, so Violet produced the key and opened the door, keeping herself on her toes in case of any potential violence.  However, there was none, as it was Karen, the woman that Violet had accidentally given an extra tongue that resided in her vagina.  That tongue was lapping away at her clitoris, while Karen rubbed a breast and worked a dildo in her pussy.  Besides her shoes and socks, she was completely naked and apparently unaware of her new audience.

Violet stared.  Karen had bent herself over a chair, and Violet couldn’t help but to watch those breasts quiver in ecstasy.  The trouble was that they were typical for Karen’s Asian heritage, being rather small.  Violet wanted them to be bigger, as the undulations would be much hotter, and because of her new power, Violet made them bigger.  She really didn’t mean to, since she didn’t really know how to use her bust expanding power.  Still, there they went, growing from rather flat breasts that barely hung when facing downward to more full boobs.  These were definitely rocking with Karen’s movements, bouncing and swinging.  Before she knew it, before she could realize that she was using the power that Hamamelis had given her, Karen’s tits were swaying four inches from the back of the chair.  Karen was snapping out of it, but it was hard for her, since that same power had been used to make her nipples more sensitive and the rest of the skin alluringly erogenous. 

She looked up at her viewers and clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream.  As she looked over, she felt her dildo start to slip, and not wanting it to fall, she squeezed down on it and steadied it with her new tongue.  Her masturbatory haze fading, she could make out her two coworkers staring at her.  She knew Violet some, but she wasn’t sure why that usually respectable woman had lifted the front of her very short skirt and was diddling herself.  She also recognized Shona as Violet’s secretary, and she couldn’t understand why she was so heavily clothed.

Finally, she muttered, “I, uh, was…”

Shona, being fairly no-nonsense responded, “fucking yourself.”

“I was not!” she retorted, before saying, “Okay, I was, but you have to understand.  I have some sort of problem.”  At this point, Violet realized she was playing with her clit and stood straight up, hands at her side.

“I know,” Shona said.  “We know, and we know where you got that problem.”

“You… you do?”

“Yes,” Violet said, clearing her throat.  “We have a problem with a sex demon, and we can’t seem to get rid of it.”

“Sex demon?”

“Yes, it’s this nasty little creature that changed people I met with the other day.  I know about your tongue down there.  Hopefully, if we can figure out how to get rid of the little demon bitch, we can fix you and Shona.  And me, for that matter.”

“Wait.  What’s wrong with you two?” she asked, realizing that her cup size had probably grown from A to D.

“Well, Shona has three big breasts.  I have weird compulsions and some other things.”  She tried to make that last part quieter.

At this point, Karen was weighing her new tissue with her hands.

“Please don’t do that,” Violet said.  “One of my compulsions is that I really like breasts now, and you are being very distracting.  In fact, find your clothes, please.”

“Okay,” Karen said, trying to figure out how to get her shirt over her new assets.  The tiny bra on the floor was obviously ignored.

“In the meantime, I’m sorry about the breasts,” Violet said.  “The demon gave me a hard-to-control power over them.  I’ve already tried to shrink them back, but I don’t think I can.”

“Well, when you get that demon, hopefully, it will be fixed,” said Karen, kind of liking the new assets.  Granted, they could have been a bit smaller, but it was a better size than she had before.

“Okay.  You get home.  I’ll talk to Ari about you needing to go home.”

“Okay.”

In their offices, Violet and Shona set to work, making sure that they appeared to be making progress.  After calling Ari about Karen being ill, Violet had a lot of email about Senator Bensen and what to do about the situation.  She responded as best she could, stating that she was not convinced that the woman in question wasn’t Bensen, as stranger things had happened.  She then found an email from Hamamelis.  Could that cursed creature never leave her alone!  In the email, she found a .pdf attachment of some odd spiraling symbols and some instructions:

Print these symbols and bring them with you to the Pharma-Mart near your apartment.  On the north end of the fourth aisle, you will find a display.  Place these over the signs on the display and then ring your apartment.  If you don’t, then you will be punished.

Violet looked at the instructions.  No doubt, this was some sort of nefarious sorcery, but she needed to follow along until she could find a way to kill or trap Hamamelis.  She would have to play the villain until that was possible.  In the meantime, with her emails checked and some busy-work done, she began searching for some sort of occult instructions on the ridding of obnoxious demons.  Given the scattered and unprofessional arrangement of the internet, that was going to take a while.  All sorts of strange cults, wacky religious folks, and simple pranksters offered advice on websites that dated from throughout the ages of the internet.

She tried looking up Hamamelis, and it took her a few times to get the spelling write.  It turned out to be the name for the genus of witch-hazel plants, but the term itself was just ancient Greek for a shrub.  She found no information on a particular demon with the name.  Finally, in desperation, she left somewhat obscured requests on various occult forums about her problem.  Maybe she would get lucky.

Later on, Grace, the payroll clerk for the office stopped in.  She was a tall and lithe woman with curly brown hair and a few freckles on her face.  Much to Violet’s distress, she was wearing a vee neck top that exposed her unexceptional cleavage.  Violet could make out that Grace was not wearing a bra, probably so that she could get away with the vee neck.  “Hey, Violet, up here,” Grace said with a cute smirk.

“Oh, er, yes, sorry.  It’s been a crazy few days.  What do you need?”  Violet wanted desperately to use her power, but her moral core was keeping her resistance up.

“You have some paperwork to sign regarding yesterday’s sick day, as well as your vacation.”  Grace wasn’t the prettiest woman in the world, not be far, so she always liked it when someone appreciated some physical aspect of hers.  For her own amusement, she leaned further over Violet’s desk, accentuating the cleavage she had.  If she had known Violet’s capability, she would have anticipated what a mistake that this was.

The first thing that Violet noticed was that Grace must have been wearing pasties or something similar, since while she was braless, she wasn’t poking out of her top, and in Violet’s boob-obsessed mind, nipping out would be very sexy.  Grace’s nipples sprung outward, awkwardly peeling away the pasties, which fell down her shirt.  Grace jumped back with a start, and Violet felt the need for a better bounce in Violet’s bosom, so it expanded with a faint concussion.  A couple of seconds later, Grace looked down at her chest.  Each tit had clearly gained mass, but they had only increased to an above average size.  However, Grace’s top draped far from her breasts proper.  It was clear that she had very large nipples, standing erect at two and a half inches.

As Grace touched her new nearly udder-like teats, she felt an electric jolt course through her body and settle into her crotch.  She held back a surprised whimper and looked to Violet, who was also shocked.  “What just happened?” Grace asked.

“Uh…”  Violet was not prepared to explain the unexplainable to someone who had not previously been exposed to it.  She was also trying to clear the sudden influx of the fog of libido.  She could feel her womanly juices spread on her leather chair.  “I…  Er…”

Grace attempted to press her nipples back in, perhaps in a vain attempt to resolve her condition.  Apparently, though, they were like stimulated clitorises, and she buckled to the floor, trying to choke back a loud orgasm.

“Are you okay?” Violet asked, as she got up.  By this time, Shona had opened the door, having sensed a disturbance.  They both help Grace up, and once Shona had seen Grace’s chest, she shook her head at Violet in admonishment.

Her face flushed with red and sweat, Grace responded, “I think so.”  The words came out of her throat with honey, even if she was in some distress.  “I still don’t know what happened.”

Violet steeled herself, but it was Shona who first piped up.  “Violet and I are dealing with a weird sex curse, and you got caught in the web.”  She tried to sound as sincere as possible, but the words were so absurd that she thought there was no way she could pull that off.

Looking down at her transformed front, Grace had to almost agree, but her inner skeptic spoke first.  “That sounds unlikely.”

Violet said, “It’s real, and we’re working to undo it, but we need some more time.”  She walked to her closet, opening the door.  Her knees were a bit weak from arousal, but she felt didn’t show that.  “Take this coat, okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Grace said, backing out of the office.

Once she was gone, Violet said, “We can’t stay here.  I’m too much of a menace.”

“Okay.  You want to go home?”

“We need to do an errand for Hamamelis first,” Violet said, handing a printed copy of the demon’s email to her.  “And before that, I am really, really horny.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s that bitch.  It’s cool.  I’ll lick you, if you want,” Shona said.  She was feeling somewhat randy herself, given all of the excitement.  Plus, she knew that Violet was under a lot of pressure from that wicked imp.

“No, no.  I’m afraid I’ll mess you up more.  You know how the eighth floor is presently vacant?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, my key works for the lock, and there is a bathroom there.  I’ll take care of myself there.”

Once past the detritus of abandonment and half-finished construction, Violet turned on the lights of the bathroom.  The fluorescent bulbs flickered and coughed, as their ballast desperately needed replacement.  Violet nearly ripped off her clothes in the strange intermittent glow and looked into the mirror, one hand already grasping her own groin.  She groped herself with a passion that she had rarely known before and rolled her clit between her thumb and forefinger.  She was getting even hotter watching herself in the mirror, and she loved the feeling of her own breasts beneath her frantic fingers.

She tried, oh how she tried, to resist the temptation, but in her state of erotic abandon, she needed some extra soft flesh to push around, and it felt so, so good to feel it expand beneath her grasp.  Likewise, she wanted more sensitive nipples, as it was in moments like this that she felt like, as wonderful and sensitive as her clitoris was, it was only one small organ that she could stimulate.  Her nipples now burned with sensation, and with the gift of Hamamelis, she colored them the color that they felt, a bright and vivid red that shouted out their lust.

The familiar, though admittedly underutilized, feeling of her ravaged clitoris combined with the unfamiliar stimulation from her chest, and Violet’s mind exploded into a sea of pink, lightning flickering from erogenous zone to erogenous zone, traversing the nerves to her addled brain.  The overwhelming sensation took some time for her to overcome, and that time was not something that she could possibly quantify.  Gradually, she became aware of the intermittent fluorescent lights, the smells of cut boards and musty abandonment, and the reverberating sounds of the buildings ventilation system.  She drew her slick fingers from her groin, as a bead of her juices rolled down her leg.  Panting, she looked in the mirror again.

Her tits had grown.  Amid her passion, she had done it to herself.  Their mass must have nearly doubled, and the nipples were almost as big as Shona’s, but the oddest part to her was the color of the new nipples.  They were as red as a fire truck.  Violet was intrigued, knowing that this was the product of her new and perverse imagination and Hamamelis’ curse.  She had to hurry and get her task done, though.  She wrapped the coat around herself, almost staggering herself with the pleasant new sensitivity of her bosom, and she returned to her office.

Grace and Shona were talking to each other in low, anxious voices, and they both looked up fretfully at Violet when she entered.  “Okay, Shona, let’s go,” Violet said.  And they went.  It didn’t take long for them to get to get to the Pharma-Mart, and they brought the printouts and some transparent tape with them.  The particular end of the shelves was not especially exposed, but the two had to wait for the woman who was looking at the various toiletries to leave before they could go to work.

Quickly, they set about their task, though Violet had to sit on Shona’s shoulders to get the last paper up.  She was already feeling frisky, and she had to resist the urge to hump Shona’s neck.  Still, Shona gave her a dirty look, when she wiped the vaginal juices from her own nape.

Red-faced, Violet already had her cell phone out.  “Hello, you tart!” said Hamamelis.

“It’s done.”

“Ooh!!!  Goody!  Stand back a moment, would you?”  An unusual set of intonations crackled over Violet’s handset.  The room went a little pink for a moment, which was something, considering that the two were standing in a female toiletries area, but it subsided, and now, the display had changed.  Everything was now branded “Be Your Sexiest!”  There were all manner of hygiene products, from razors to tampons to lotion.  All of them had imagery that was barely non-pornographic with scantily clad or strategically covered women with expressions of ecstasy and desire.  Violet was not sure if she had done the right thing, but she had been cowed by the little imp, and until she could figure something out, she was going to have to play along.  “How does it look?”

“Like it should be in a sex shop.”

“Good.  Come on home when you’re ready.”

Shona was looking at some of the packages.  “What do you think this is about?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I want to know.  These are probably as cursed as anything else that demon has been up to.”

Just then, a man dressed in what could only be described as some sort of confused costume for a science fiction convention approached them.  “Meet me by the entrance here.  We need to talk about your wicked little friend.”  His voice almost boomed.  It was clear, confident, and almost Shakespearian.  Before either could react, he dramatically strode away, his gaudy cape swooshing behind him.

“Uh, what do you think that was about?” Shona asked.

“We can find out, but I think he’s either one of Hamamelis’ tricks, or he’s here to help.”

The two headed for the door, as they saw what looked like a college student approach the display of goods.  Violet paused as if to stop her, but she knew better; blocking the display was not a sustainable strategy.  They looked around the corner just out of the door, and they saw the strange man standing next to a newspaper vending machine, his fists resting confidently on his hips.  “Uh, you know how to defeat Hamamelis?”  Shona asked, “Because we can’t be bothered with you, if you’re going to be no help.”

“I can,” he said.  “She has been beaten before, but that was long ago, in a land not from this plane.”

“What can we do?” Violet asked.

“Well, it is important that you understand what is going on here,” he responded.  “Hamamelis is a wicked little creature with carnal desires that are barely imaginable.  She has destroyed empires, and she must be stopped, for now, she has wrongly torn at the fabric of this universe!”

“Uh, fabric?” Shona asked.

“Yay, for she has (unwittingly, I think) severed this plane from the cosmic realm of the masculine and further opened the connections to the feminine and erotic realms.  In the past, she has opened all of them, creating chaos unheard of until now, but even then, the balance of the masculine and feminine remained.  Here, you will not be so lucky.  She must be stopped soon, for there is much damage that will not be repaired for eons.”

“You mean this is permanent?” Violet asked.

“For your mortal lifespans, yes.  However, the severity will rise and rise, until that foul creature has wrested control of your world from you, and free will falls to her cruel dominion.  All will desire, and all will despair in their dissatisfaction.”

“What do you want us to do?”

He paused for a moment and then retrieved a disk-shaped object from his pocket.  “You need to put this in your apartment, and you need to acquire some amount of Hamamelis’ vaginal secretions.  It may be diluted some, but I will need them for a proper binding spell.”

“How are we supposed to get pussy juice from her?  She’s quick!”  Shona looked incredulous.

“You have to be creative.  The creature also has desires of her own, and you must exploit them.”

“How?”

“There is not much time.  Hamamelis is on the verge of scrying on you two again.  Do not speak of plans, even when you are alone, as her ability to spy is great.  I must go.  You may meet me here in two days time to give me what you find.”  With that, he spun on a heel and strode away confidently.

Violet looked down at the small stone in her hand.  She squeezed it and put it in her pocket.  “We’ll just have to wait for the right timing.”

“Yeah.”

As the two headed back to the apartment, Violet received a call.  It was Jenna.  “Hello?”

“Violet!  You’ve got to help!  You know Eric, the doorman?”

Violet did.  Jenna would occasionally use him to get into the building.  He was kind of cute, and Jenna liked the occasional one-night stand with the dude.  “Yes.”

“Well, he’s sick or something.  I’m in the break room in the apartment building, and he’s not looking himself!  I think we need to get him to your apartment.”

“And why not a hospital?  Jenna, I don’t have time for this.”

“That’s the thing.  I think it’s one of your problems.”

“Great.  I’ll be there in a minute.”  Violet handed to phone to Shona so that she could drive more aggressively.  Soon, the two were back at the apartment building, moving briskly (but not enough that Violet was over-exposing herself.)  Still, she couldn’t shake the stimulation of her sensitive rolling tits, the nipples rubbing against her shirt’s fabric.  Once at the door, Violet had to shake her head before entering.  There, she found Jenna and another woman.

“Where’s Eric?”

Jenna looked forlornly at her companion.  “Right here.  He started getting this way when I got here.”

“Oh.”  Violet’s supernaturally charged curiosity drew her eyes to the new woman’s chest.  It rose and fell rapidly in the polo shirt, a testament to the beauty of women.  Violet could barely repress the urge to make them bigger.  “Um, what happened?”

“I don’t know.  We had a little quickie last night, and when I came here today, he was, um, getting sick.”

In an uncertain but distinctly female voice, Eric said, “I just felt weird, like I was dizzy.  What’s going on?”

“We’ll explain later.”

“Whoa,” Jenna said, looking confused.

“What?” Violet asked.

“My pussy feels funny.”

“Wonderful.  Let’s get upstairs.”

“With that sicko fairy thing?” Jenna asked.

“Yes, we need to get somewhere private, and that fairy thing might answer some questions.”  She might also provide some vaginal fluid, Violet thought.

Upstairs, they found a pile of large boxes next to the door.  Violet looked both ways down the hall and quickly stripped before entering the apartment.  “What’s with the boxes?” she demanded of the she-imp.

“Oh, good!  You’re here!  I ordered a bunch of stuff, and I’ll need your strength and size to open the boxes and set up my new communications center.”  Hamamelis was busily organizing various odd items in what could only be described as a space for dark magic.  “It’s all I really need for the rest of the day.”

“Communications center?” Shona asked.

“Yep, I figured out how to hack a bank, so I ordered the best stuff.  You’ll need to move some furniture.”

Not wanting to piss off the little devil more than was necessary, the girls set about getting stuff done, but it was getting clear that Jenna was feeling uncomfortable.  She was clearly flushed and sweating, even though the work was especially hard, except for mounting another big screen television.

“What did you do to me?” Jenna demanded of Hamamelis.

“Oh, that should become mostly apparent soon.  I suspect your pants are getting tight.”

Indeed, there seemed to be some swelling in her crotch, and Jenna knew she needed to relieve the pressure, both physically and sexually, so she partially disrobed.  Her vulva appeared swollen, like it had been stung by hive of bees, though it did not look painful.  Her clitoris was very erect, and it swelled at least as much as the rest of her genitals.  “What did you do?” she continued to implore, panic clearly sinking in.

“Watch.”

“Unnghh…”  Her cunt visibly convulsed, and her clitoris surged forward and upward, its shaft becoming more prominent.  It was all that she could do not to grope herself in front of her friends, as the need for masturbation was like the need to relieve a poison ivy rash.  The clit was now steadily growing, seemingly pulling her pussy lips with it, and all that Jenna could do was pant and spout incoherent swears and grunts.  Finally it stopped, and her rock-hard clitoris was like some penetrator, almost a penis but not quite.  The glans was far too big for a normal cock, as it extended two-thirds of the way to the base pubic mound on the dorsal side.  Her urethra, though, had clearly migrated to the end of her new member, and on the underside of the strange organ, the pink of her pussy continued halfway up, the inner labia delicately flanking that soft flesh.  Perhaps the biggest thing about it was that, well, it was big.  While not as large as the dick of some porn stars, in proportion to her modest frame, the thing looked enormous.

Panting obscenely, Jenna desperately ogled her naked friend in front of her, some spittle dripping from the side of her agape mouth.  Violet could see the frenzied lust in her friend, and she got scared.  There was Jenna looking more like a psychotic rutting buck than her usual self.  She had to diffuse the situation.  “Come, sit.”

Her breathing irregular and heavy, Jenna slowly sat on the sofa, her drooling cunt smearing the leather surface.  “Want…” was all she could say, as she pointed at Violet’s crotch.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, as the terror of the immediate prospect of rape faded into an adrenaline rush that only stoked her own magically infused lusts.

Jenna now looked as much pitiful and frightening, as she manipulated herself with one hand and clumsily took off her shirt with the other.  “Please,” she said.

Shona said, “I could help.”

But, amazingly, Jenna said, “Not now.  Need Violet.”

Realizing that there may be something more to it than Jenna simply being like some animal in heat, Violet said, “Okay, but we need to take it slowly.”  By now, Jenna’s gaze moved from the striking novelty of the cock-like clitoris to her imposed obsession for breasts.  She was working herself up, and she knew that she needed to in order to make this work.

Jenna pounced, passionately and sloppily kissing at Violet, her hands frantically fumbling over her body.  Violet, her own passions stirred, kissed back, but she knew that she needed this to be over, even if she felt like she needed it in the moment, too.  She managed to maneuver the two back to the sofa where she spread her legs, her moist flower opening in invitation.  Jenna was clearly using all of her will to avoid ramming her new phallic device into her friend in one go, and she gently entered.  The satisfaction of initial penetration achieved, she began pumping, slowly at first—after all, this was not something she was used to doing—and then thrusting wildly. 

Violet’s brain was overwhelmed with activity.  She was already coming, and all she could see what Jenna’s small, pert breasts bouncing and heaving, while all she could feel was white heat and intense sensation coming from her overwhelmed pussy.  Those two little mummeries were delicious, but some more mass could make them bouncier, so they became more massive, enough to clearly swing with each thrust.  More would be fun, too, Violet thought, realizing too late that this would be a mess.  Two more pairs of boobs grew from Jenna’s torso, and Violet watched with delight as they joined the rhythm of their more natural comrades.

Suddenly, a huge rush of fluid burst from Violet’s battered vagina, soaking what dry areas of the couch remained.  After a few more drives, Jenna ceased her hips, and she withdrew, clearly exhausted, moaning in relief and in the muscle pain emanating from her abs, thighs, and back.  She looked down at her chest and then closed her eyes, knowing that life had just changed, probably for the worse.

Violet felt amazingly satisfied but guilty.  Her own sexual mores had been totally shattered now, and she knew she was responsible for new hardships for Jenna, but at the same time, she felt that she could think clearly, even if all she really wanted to do was hug her friend.  She then spotted Shona with Hamamelis.  She was apparently eating the terrible creatures tiny pussy.  The she-beast screamed in ecstasy herself, and Shona disengaged with a smile on her face, then walked into the bathroom.

“What’s this?” Jenna asked weakly, pointing at her member.

“Your new clit-cock.  I gave you my wonderful new disease to spread over the world.  See, you slept with three men over the last day, right?”  Jenna nodded.  “Well, you drew out their masculinity, and then it concentrated into your clitty.”  Jenna groaned, realizing that she had apparently not just changed the Eric the doorman.  “Now, you’ve got the best of both worlds, sort of,” Hamamelis said.

“Disease?” Violet asked.

“Yep.  All part of my plan.  It’s a venereal disease, I guess you could say.  It will emasculate the population, I suppose, but it will make the world sexier!”

“Does that mean I have it?” Violet asked.

“Of course, dear.  If you want a clit-cock like your friend here, all you have to do is sleep with three men.”  Violet felt sick.  This was going from worse to worst.  At least people weren’t dying, she reminded herself.

“Thanks to your work at the drug store, my new products are going out in force, too.  Watch this!”  One of the flat screens lit up.  A young woman was on, apparently opening a package of Hamamelis’ tampons.  It was easy to make out the label on the box:

Be Your Sexiest! No-Flow Self-Disintegrating Tampons Guaranteed to completely stop your flow or your money back! Directions: Remove from package and insert, no applicator required.  The tampon will safely dissolve when your period is over.

The view then revealed the warning label in miniscule font:

Warning: Side-effects include (but are not limited to) increased desire, sexual frustration, and increased sensual feelings in traditionally non-erogenous zones for the duration of your period.  Once used, the No-Flow Self-Disintegrating Tampon cannot be removed until the end of menstruation.

“Oh, no,” Violet said.  The young woman on the screen frowned when she realized that she didn’t have an applicator, but she clearly was in a hurry to get it in.  The bright pink bullet slipped in easily enough, but just then, things got weird.  The young woman gasped as her crotch convulsed.  Her vulva tightened dramatically and then disappeared!  In its place, there was only bare skin.  She frantically felt it, trying to figure out what happened.  She then read the box more closely, but that appeared to only confuse her a little more.

“See!  No period problem!” Hamamelis said.

“But that’s not sexy!” Jenna said.

“What?  Sexual denial?  Well, the tampon will make her hornier than usual, and she will have to make due.  She has two other orifices, as well as other assets.  When it’s time for her period to end, she’ll be back to normal.  Whether she sticks with this brand or not is her own choice, but there may or may not be addictive properties.  Let’s see what else we have.” 

The picture now went to another victim in her bath.  A fresh Be Your Sexiest! safety razor and a matching bottle of shaving gel were resting on the edge of the tub.  The young woman started with her legs and her armpits, a normal activity for most American women, but when she was done, she looked at the razor a bit confused.  She tried to put it down, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to summon the will to let go.  She looked at her crotch, and then she looked at the razor.  Then, she realized what she had to do, so she attacked her bush.  As she did, she began fondling her breasts with her spare hand.  She was biting her lip, and a few moans escaped her throat.  She managed to be careful, despite her clear arousal, and she finally finished, looking somewhat satisfied with her effort.

The mystical and invisible camera followed her to her room where she started getting dressed.  She grabbed a pair of panties and tried to put them on, but once again, she was rebuffed by Hamamelis’ geas.  The same thing happened with jeans.  She couldn’t seem to put on her t-shirt, either.  Finally, she managed to wear a mini-skirt and a tank-top shirt, and her frustration and embarrassment was palpable.  “See, now that is clearly sexy!” Hamamelis said.

Jenna’s member was definitely reacting, and she was embarrassed, too, both for her visible arousal and in sympathy with the figure on the screen.  “She can’t put anything onto what she shaved?” she asked.

“That’s right!  Now, let’s take a look at another product.”  Once again, a woman appeared on the screen, though this one was significantly older than the previous two subjects.  She had a jar of Be Your Sexiest! beauty cream on by her sink.  It was clear that there were several other half-empty jars of various brands of other beauty creams stacked nearby.  She apparently was upset at the aging process.  The woman herself looked to be in her 40’s, and though she was obviously older, she didn’t possess that many wrinkles or age marks.  One could say that she had fewer than the average person of her age.

She applied it like a pro, moving her fingers in easy circles, careful to cover the whole surface.  After five minutes, she seemed satisfied that everything was covered, and she dutifully rinsed it off of her face.  The result was stunning.  Her wrinkles and blemishes had not only disappeared, but her face looked like that of a twenty-five year-old.  She was obviously dumbfounded, and she looked at the package.  “It’s now dawning on her that she will be rather hard to recognize,” Hamamelis said.  “No matter.  That’s all part of the plan.  Anyway, one final product!”

A nude woman in her bedroom appeared on the screen.  She was preparing for a big date night.  A cocktail dress was slung over the back of her desk chair, and jewelry was staged on her bureau.  Her breasts were of average size, but it was clear that she had prominent nipples.  (Violet felt a jolt of erotic energy at this sight.)  It also appeared that the cocktail dress was designed to be worn braless, and so it was that the woman had a package of Be Your Sexiest! nipple pasties.  The audience of voyeurs could make out several shapes in what was apparently a variety pack: red hearts, yellow stars, and blue triangles.  The woman considered these and then picked a pair of hearts and removed the backing of one.  She carefully applied the pasty, pressing it down to obscure any embarrassing poking action.  Satisfied, she switched to the next one.

They seemed to be working fine when she noticed that her nipples started to reassert themselves.  When she tried to press them back down, she became confused.  The pasties no longer looked pasted on.  Instead, they looked like they had been painted, as if her nipples and areolae were themselves heart-shaped and bright red.  She tugged, and nothing happened, except that she was obviously stimulated by her effort.  After some more attempts, she paused to masturbate, as apparently, the experience was too much.  Frustrated, she looked at the clock.  It was getting late.  She grabbed the blue triangles and pasted those on, hoping to keep her still-erect nipples under control.  This effort ultimately resulted in blue, triangular nipples and areolae.  She then grabbed her dress and hurried.

The women in the room looked forlorn.  This demon’s terror was bizarre, but it had its own strange oppression in it.  “You three can scram now.  I’ve got work to do.”

Violet turned to Shona.  Shona revealed a small perfume bottle with a little bit of liquid at the bottom and smiled.  Violet returned that smile.