A Magical Mishap

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Hello all, a new story that might potentially be a series if it does well 🙂 This one is about a witch who hires a futanari for her cum for help with a beautification potion!

Contains: futa on female, hyper/huge cock, excessive cum and cum inflation, transformation and expansion, bimbofication.

Feedback is always appreciated! I read every comment!

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The moon sat high and full, a beautiful beacon against a canvas of darkness – but no one in the city was lucky enough to see it. Black clouds blanketed the night sky, occasionally illuminated by a strike of lightning, a menacing sight only enhanced by the torrential downpour that packed the air. The rain was coming down so hard, it was falling in sideways sheets rather than drops, soaking the numerous buildings below it. Winds blew hard enough to tear branches from trees and uplift bushes. A chilly, but persistently familiar event for the residents of this metropolis, most of whom were huddled in their homes, sitting by fires and cuddled up in blankets, warm drinks in hand.

An exception was cautiously turning into an apartment complex.

Small, red, and dated by about three decades, the creaking car jerked forward, its headlights cutting a swath of illumination across the street. It slowed to a crawl as it pulled up to the front of the first set of buildings, creeping between sets of parked vehicles. Coming to a sudden stop, the engine groaning in protest, there was a cautious pause before it sputtered to life again and slinked towards an empty parking spot. Rattling for several moments before turning off, the headlights going dark, it sat silently except for the back and forth swiping off its wipers, only a small light brightening it’s interior.

A large building loomed before it. Clearly old and poorly maintained, painted in that ugly tan color all cheap apartments seemed to be, it loomed gloomily, only a few sources of light peeking from its depths. Balconies, most of which were sparsely decorated, dotted its outside, a few plants and flags covering their assorted railings. A glass door at the front, half-covered by numerous flyers and signs, presented a not-quite inviting entrance, like the series of abodes didn’t want people entering them. All in all, a typical sight for this part of town.

Thunder clapped overhead.

The door of the car flung open, a hooded figure hastily sliding out of it. Slamming it shut, they scurried towards the building, hunched over as if to protect themselves from the monsoon swirling around them. Sneaker-clad feet splashed across the pavement as the person moved towards the front door as fast as they could without slipping, fighting against the persistent gusts that whipped at them. A handheld square of light brightened the front of their jacket-clad form, casting a shine over a pair of large brown eyes that squinted through the liquid flurry. The individual finally made it to the building, and quickly entered it’s somewhat-warmer confines. They paused before going any further.

Throwing their hood back exposed their face to the dim lighting of the building. Skin like chocolate came into view, smooth and blemish free. Her, as the face was of a feminine variety, features betrayed her feelings about where she was. Her large lips were pursed, their partially pink and brown hue tightening into her wide-set mouth. Normally naturally flared, the woman’s nostrils pulled inward, like she was trying to block an expected bad smell. Thin, threaded, black brows furrowed over her caramel colored eyes – eyes that scanned over the set of doors in front of her.

Pushing a loose strand of curly red-brown hair behind one of her lobe-pierced ears, the girl looked at her phone again. Sighing, she walked up a set of stairs next to her, taking each step carefully. Gliding a small hand over the railing, her cut-short nails tapped against the chips in its paint; the carpet on the steps mirrored this dilapidated state, several stains and tears splayed across each one. They led to, predictably, another set of doors, and after a quick glance, she walked up to the next floor as well. It was here on the third floor that she located her destination.

Standing in front of an off-white door, she studied the number etched onto its front as if to make absolutely sure she was at the right one. Her soaked sneakers dripped onto the plain black welcome mat as she bounced on the balls of her feet, looking at her phone once more. The woman could feel her heart pound heavily in her chest, her eyes roaming around the outside of the apartment – not that there was exactly much to look at. Was she really about to do this? Was she really going to do something so wild? Was she really about to masturbate in front of a stranger!?

“Well, money is money,” she muttered under her breath as she raised a fist to the door, “and rent is due soon…”

Sucking in a deep breath, she knocked. Wincing as her knuckles made contact with the wood, she quickly lowered her arm, joining the other stiff at her sides. She stood lezbiyen seks hikayeleri in this at-attention pose, perfectly still, as she listened for any noise behind the barrier to entry; her chest tightened as she heard the tell-tale sound of feet pattering across carpet. The few seconds it took until the knob jiggled felt like an eternity, and the dark-skinned girl realized she’d been subconsciously holding her breath. She exhaled as the door unlocked.

The storm continued to rage outside.

“Gabrielle?” a low voice called out from the small space between the door and the frame, the person behind it having barely cracked it open.

“Uh yeah, it’s me,” Gabrielle confirmed awkwardly, nervously scratching at her curly hair, which was pulled back into a bushy ponytail, “are you, uh… Robin?”

The clinking of metal was all the response she received back as the sounds of several locks and chains being opened filled in the silence. The door creaked as it was open fully, revealing the stranger behind it for the first time. A pale visage, so pale she almost looked like a corpse, peered at her over a flat, single-studded nose and through smokily made-up eyes that were nearly as dark as the makeup surrounding them. A slender hand lifted, moving a strand of hair, dyed cyan against a sheet of black, out of her face. Thin painted-purple lips smiled at her as the woman stepped aside.

“Please come in.”

She raised a clothed arm, welcoming Gabrielle into her home. Her top was… interesting, to say the least. Black, long sleeved and covering her modest chest, yet ending above her belly button which was adorned by a small skull-shaped piercing. As she moved her short skirt fluttered, also black, showing off plenty of creamy thigh flesh. The rest of her legs were bare, except for a pair of fishnets that came up above her knees; she was barefoot as well, minus the aforementioned leg covering.

She was not what Gabrielle had expected.

“Ah, thank you,” she muttered, blushing at Robin’s somewhat-scantily clad form. Gabrielle took a step inside, kicking her shoes off next to several other assorted pairs of boots and heels. Entering the rather plain hallway first, she waited a moment to let the goth girl lead the way. The door closed behind her and the lithe figure of her host wafted past her. Following closely behind, she cast a look at her surroundings while trying not to ogle the stranger in front of her, finding the place somewhat normal looking; this quickly changed as the pair waltzed into the living room.

Paintings and posters adorned the walls, most seeming to depict sorrowful imagery and bands she had never heard of. A worn looking leather couch sat at its center, several open books of varying thickness and a laptop resting atop its cushions. A dark wooden coffee table was several feet away, cups of unknown liquids, plastic bags filled with assorted things Gabrielle couldn’t make out from where she was standing, and several lit candles covering it; and in the middle was a small burner currently heating the bottom of a gray pot, which looked to be filled with water.

This was also not what Gabrielle had expected.

“Something the matter?” Robin questioned, noticing her guest’s bemused expression.

“No, uh it’s just,” Gabrielle tried to find the right way to phrase her thoughts, “this place is just different from what I expected I guess. It all is.”

“What do you mean? Not to your liking?”

“No no, I guess I just figured you’d live in like, a cabin in the woods or something.”

“A cabin?” Robin laughed, “have you seen how expensive those places are? If I had that kind of money I don’t think I’d need to do this!”

Gabrielle chuckled at the goth’s exclamation.

“And what about me? Am I what you expected?”

The curly-haired girl blushed again as Robin cocked her hips and raised an eyebrow, happy that her melanin-enhanced skin covered the heat in her cheeks. Gabrielle couldn’t help but admire more of her body. The subtle outline of her bra through her top. The numerous piercings that lined both ears. A hint of a tattoo against one of her alabaster thighs, peeking out from under the bottom of her skirt – it looked like the stem of a flower. She really was very attractive, something that made this whole scenario more nerve-wracking for the young woman.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be in a dress and a pointy hat or anything,” Gabrielle joked, drawing a raised eyebrow from the goth, “but you do remind me a bit of the girls who called themselves ‘witches’ when I was in high school.”

“I can assure you I’m the real deal.”

Gabrielle gave her an awkward smile, not sure of how to respond.

“Um, so how do we do this? Do you want me to just like, go into the bathroom with a cup and bring it back to you? And do you pay me now or after? Do I need to stay for the whole thing? Should I sh-“

Robin raised a hand to stop the girl’s constant questions.

“Actually I need you to do it in front of me, into that,” the goth pointed at the cauldron behind her.

“You want me to jerk off in front of you!?”

“I just need to make sure you’re the genuine article. If you try to trick me and give me some sort of fake cum or something, it could have… negative effects, we’ll say.”

Gabrielle looked at her in shock.

“Look, how about this,” Robin sensed the girl’s hesitation and moved towards the coffee table, opening a drawer and rummaging through its contents, “I’ll give you half the money now as a show of good faith. You seem like a nice person anyway.”

Closing the drawer, she pulled out a stack of folded bills. Walking over to the dark-skinned girl, she held her hand out, the cash resting in her open hand. Gabrielle looked at the money, still shocked, and reached out a shaking hand to take them. Her posture relaxed when the paper currency exchanged hands. After taking a minute to count it, feeling somewhat awkward doing it in front of the person paying her, she stuffed it into her pocket, a new feeling of motivation welling inside of her. She could do this!

“Ok,” she exhaled heavily, “where do you need me to stand?”

“You can do it right in front of the table, whatever position that works best for you is fine.”

Gulping, Gabrielle nodded her head and moved around the goth. She stepped gingerly, making sure not to accidentally trample on any of the numerous occult items scattered around the ground – it was mostly more books and what looked like charms and trinkets. Coming to a stop in front of the coffee table, on the opposite side of the couch, Gabrielle studied the boiling liquid for a moment, before taking several steps back, leaving a few feet between her and what would ultimately be her target.

Robin’s eyebrows rose slowly towards her hairline.

“Um, do you have a place I can put my clothes? I don’t want to mess them up.”

“Oh,” Robin continued to look confused, “you can just toss them anywhere. Don’t really have a place for them, sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Gabrielle unzipped her jacket and started to slide it off her arms, revealing a plain green shirt beneath it, “it’s just that these are my work clothes and I don’t have a lot of spares.”

“Where do you work?”

“At the student-run coffee shop at the University. They work with your schedule which is nice.”

“You’re a student?”

“Unfortunately,” the curly-haired girl joked as she shed her top, tossing to the side with her jacket, revealing a simple white bra underneath, “it’s expensive but I’m hoping it’ll be worth it.”

Robin only nodded at the statement, distracted as she found herself doing the admiring now. Gabrielle’s body was nice. As she discarded her white bra, her perky breasts came into view, a good handful each, capped by small brown nipples that stiffened in the cold air. She had nicely pronounced collarbones, and her stomach was mostly flat, only a slight, but pleasant pudge rounding it out; the kind of pudge that would make a nice pillow after a bit of intimacy. Robin scratched her cheek, her painted black nails raking softly against her skin as a touch of embarrassment came over her.

“So uh, what exactly is this ‘potion’ for?” Gabrielle asked as she hopped on one leg, attempting to remove her white socks.

“Oh it’s just a beauty potion, nothing too fancy.”

“A beauty potion?”

“Yeah you know,” Robin crossed her arms and chewed on her purple bottom lip for a moment, “to make myself beautiful.”

“I think you’re pretty already.”

Both girls blushed at this sudden confession, their heads turning in opposite directions from each other.

“T-thank you, I guess.”

Gabrielle smiled towards the ground before turning her attention to the next article of clothes she needed to remove: her jeans. Trying to calm herself, she undid each button, one by one, stretching out the simple task for as long as she could. Once the last one was undone, she snaked her fingers into the sides of her waistband, hooking them into her underwear as well, and… stopped. Another deep breath. Robin already knew who she was, it was going to be okay. She could do this – she needed the rest of the money, after all.

“Here goes nothing…” she whispered under her breath. Shimmying her hips, she pushed her jeans down. Robin was really paying attention now, a large part of her eager to see what she’d been after. As the bottoms crested Gabrielle’s wide hips, a nest of curly black pubic hair was revealed first, trimmed short and narrow. Her smooth, chocolatey skin gave way to something that stuck out obscenely on her average frame, something she had to hide everyday of her life. The something that was the reason for her being here.

The base of her shaft came into view first. It was black, much darker than her normally deep brown skin. And it was thick. Thick enough that Robin’s first thought upon seeing it was that she might not be able to wrap her fingers around it – not that she was planning to or anything! As more of Gabrielle’s hidden appendage was revealed, the more unreal it seemed. The thickness continued in a uniform manner down its length, enhanced in areas by several prominent veins that were as long and as thick as pencils. The goth found her jaw dropping as she realized the woman had pulled her pants halfway down her thighs, and her penis still hadn’t been completely uncovered!

More and more of that snaking, fat length came into view. It was more fat cockflesh than the goth had ever seen or even heard of! It wasn’t until Gabrielle had managed to pull down her jeans to above her knees that the rest of her genitals came into view. The charcoal-tinted shaft hung between her thighs, its head bulging from under its foreskin sheath, the wrinkly end of which drooped loosely from her tip. This impressive cock sat atop a pair of softball sized testicles, draped in an equally-dark, loose, vein-laced sack, hanging halfway down her amazing length.

How did she hide all of this!?

Robin had heard rumors about futanari, done plenty of research, and scoured her books for any information about them, which is why she attempted to contact one in the first place. She had posted online, used dating apps, and even asked her friends and contacts about them; any asset she had at her disposal she used. Still, it took her months to finally get in touch with one. And here she was, the futa she had quested after her, in the full nude now that she kicked off her jeans. It was almost too unbelievable to be real!

She was everything the witch had hoped and more.

“S-so I guess,” Gabrielle swallowed hard, breaking the awkward silence that had permeated the room, “I guess I can start now if you’d like.”

“S-sure,” Robin found herself at a loss for words, “whenever you’re, uh, ready.”

Nodding, the futa reached down and wrapped a hand around the base of her shaft. She turned slightly, giving Robin a profile view of her body; the goth managed to tear her eyes away from that awesome appendage to admire her guest’s full ass and strong legs, two things she no doubt achieved by standing and moving at her job all day. Looking back at the girthy sausage, she watched as Gabrielle gave her cock several strokes, the floppy shaft bouncing around in her fist, too much cock between her fingers for one hand alone to handle. It was still soft, wasn’t it? Fuck.

Closing her eyes as she began to jerk herself, Gabrielle tried to ignore the fact she was being watched, even if it did excite her more than she’d like to admit. Her movements were slow at first, using her fingers to massage her fat meat, sinking them into the skin as she made her usual up-and-down motions; a familiar rhythm for the futa in a very unfamiliar place. In no time she added her other hand to it, double-fisting her slumbering beast, even though this dual-grip was still inadequate in covering the ebony-hued expanse of her meaty monster.

Robin tried to steady her breathing as she watched the futa work herself; she didn’t expect it to be so hot! Gabrielle’s purple glans would poke out of her foreskin on every downward stroke, the one part of her cock that was somehow bigger than the rest of her shaft. The bell-shaped tip looked to be almost the same size as her own fist, and her piss slit constantly gaped like it was breathing in time with its owner. As she stroked herself, the goth noticed that her palm-filling orbs began to bounce lightly against her thighs, filling the air with light thuds.

Picking up her pace, Gabrielle began to really get into her self-pleasuring, throwing any sense of modesty to the wind. Her mostly-closed fists slammed into each other as she worked them in opposite-motions, like she was trying to wring life into her cock. The extra skin covering her glans bunched around her fingers with every pull, before housing her tip once more in a fleshy sweater. On one of these unveilings, a large bead of precum appeared, much more white than the normally clear substance a man would produce, before being snatched by her foreskin and lathered onto her shaft. This became a common occurrence the more the futa touched herself.

Her cock began to stiffen, something Gabrielle was happy about – she was afraid stage fright might’ve left her unable to perform. It began to rise without the aid of her hands, only gravity pulling its heavy weight back towards the Earth. Half of her glans remained revealed as she pumped her meat, no longer being fully covered by her foreskin, growing too big for it to be possible. The dark-skinned futa’s fingers were pushed farther apart, slowly sliding off the sides of her shaft. They pressed against her urethra, a large protuberance that swelled constantly with loads of precum.

A squelching sound filled the room. Gabrielle’s cock was now being constantly greased by her leaking lubrication, painting her shaft in splotches of white. Her fingers were practically glued together with her seed, stringy webs connecting to the parts of her behemoth she couldn’t contain between them. The veins on her cock grew more prominent the more it enlarged, pushing almost painfully from under her skin, creating ridges and hills her hands had to crest with each pump. Her glans had exceeded fist sized by this point, turning a deeper purple as more and more blood was driven into her pillar.

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