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Charisma Ch. 01

By: Cal Y. Pygia



Tiffany De Vine wondered whether the ladies’ dressing room in which she was about to try on a brassiere was under surveillance by some fat, obese fucker with a day’s stubble of beard and a cum-stained crotch. Probably, she thought; it would be just her luck. Well, if some slob was drooling over her image on a “security” monitor somewhere, she’d give him a little something to remember after she’d tried on the bra.

A fancy item of clothing, pink and frilly, it was adorned with lacy lavender bows and ribbons--and the tag attached to it promised that the bra would “lift and separate” to provide “cleavage enhancement.” Despite the hormones she’d taken for the past year, Tiffany was a little on the petite side, with “B” cup breasts. She’d never had any complaints, but, well, like a lot of women, genetic girls included, she’d like to have bigger boobs--provided that she didn’t have to undergo more surgery. She’d had quite enough operations lately; she didn’t want any more.

She looked around the small, curtained cubicle once more, looking for a hidden camera. She didn’t see any sign of such an instrument, but she wasn’t reassured. Shrugging, she unbuttoned her blouse, removed the top, and hung it on the hook that had been provided for this purpose. She wasn’t wearing a bra of her own, so, if anyone was watching her, he (or she) would be feasting his (or her) eyes on her tits right now. Tiffany glanced at the smooth, creamy mounds that rose from her chest, topped with puffy, pink areolas surrounding her stiff, swollen nipples. She had beautiful breasts, she thought. She was proud of them, even though they were, perhaps, a little small. She smiled. If the bra performed the magic that it promised, in lifting and separating her boobs, it would give her plenty of eye-catching cleavage.

She lifted the cups to her breasts, slipped her arms through the straps, and secured the clasp behind her back. The bra fit wonderfully, and, Tiffany saw by consulting the mirror, lived up to its promise. She looked as if she’d gone magically from a “B” to a “C” cup, and her sleek, firm breasts jutted from her chest like rockets. She grinned at her reflection, deciding to buy the wonderful brassiere regardless of its seemingly exorbitant price. A bra that could do such magic to her figure was worth whatever the manufacturer charged. Who was the manufacturer, anyway, she wondered? She looked at the attached tag. The manufacturer’s name, Charisma, and address were printed on the label. The address was right here in San Diego! She’d never heard of such a company, but she was going to pay a visit to its corporate offices. She wanted to thank the president for offering such a splendid bra to the public. She also wanted to see what other items of apparel, innerwear as well as outerwear, the company might offer.

She removed the bra, replaced it on its hanger, and put her blouse on again. She parted the curtain and was about to step out of the dressing room when she remembered that she’d promised herself to give whoever might be watching her over a closed-circuit television camera a little something to remember after she’d tried on the bra. She hung the hanger on the hook, unfastened her jeans, slipped the denim over her smooth ivory thighs, and lowered her silk panties to reveal the soft, limp, circumcised penis that dangled before the small pouch of her scrotum. She grinned. That ought to give any secret admirer a bit of a shock, she thought. Smiling, she tugged up her panties and jeans, reclaimed the brassiere, and hastened to the front of the store, where she purchased the bra.

On her way home, Tiffany turned every man’s head; quite a few women also ogled her. Unlike the men, who gazed with naked lust and longing upon her cleavage, the women looked either disgusted or envious. Whichever feeling the women displayed made Tiffany feel good, and the men’s obvious desire to do more than simply look at her tits made Tiffany’s nipples stiffen and her cock swell. By the time she arrived home, her breasts were sore, and her balls ached. She loved her new bra!

Charisma was located at 1111 North Highland Avenue, which was about ten miles from Tiffany’s apartment. She was there in twenty minutes--or was she? She checked the address again; sure enough, it read 1111 North Highland Avenue. Had she copied it incorrectly? She frowned, remembering the numerals and words on the tag that had been attached to the brassiere. No, she’d gotten the address right, she was certain. If that were the case, though, why was she looking at the office of Silver Shield Insurance? A terrifying thought occurred to her. Maybe Charisma had gone out of business! She gulped. Please, God, don’t let that be true! she prayed. Telling herself that there was only one way to find out, she entered the insurance office.

An elderly gray-haired man wearing horn-rimmed spectacles and a three-piece suit looked up at her as she entered. Standing, he smiled, offering her his hand. She accepted it, and they shook. “I’m Martin Fenner,” he announced.  “What can I do for you?”


“I’m trying to locate a company named Charisma,” Tiffany replied. “It used to be located here.”

Mr. Fenner’s smile faded as he realized he wouldn’t be selling an insurance policy to his visitor. He frowned. “Charisma?”

Tiffany nodded, hoping against hope that the elderly man could help her.

The insurance agent nodded, raising a forefinger. “Ah, yes! Charisma!”

“Can you tell me where the company moved?”

Mr. Fenner chuckled. “Charisma’s not a company,” he said.

Now, it was Tiffany who frowned. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. “I mean, I bought an article of clothing from them just this morning, and the tag had this address on it.”

“Charisma’s a lady,” Mr. Fenner announced. “A wonderful, charming lady--and a hell of a seamstress. Her shop was located here, before she moved.”

“Oh!” Tiffany blushed at her mistake. “Can you tell me where she’s relocated?”

Mr. Fenner nodded. “As a matter of fact, I can,” he declared. “Just a moment, please.” He returned to his desk, consulted a file, and scribbled her new address. Handing the slip of paper to Tiffany, he said, “She’s one of my customers.”

Tiffany beamed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” the insurance agent said, his eyes taking in the bounty of Tiffany’s magnificent bosom.

She saw him staring, and her smile broadened. They never get too old to admire a pair of tits, she thought, especially when they’re enhanced by such a wonderful product as the bra she wore beneath her tight silk blouse.

The new address was on the outskirts of town. It was still early in the day. Rush hour wouldn’t start for another couple of hours. She could make it to the new address in half an hour or less. She was excited, because she wouldn’t have to settle for complimenting some executive about the wonderful bra; she could thank its creator, Charisma, herself!

The next address wasn’t home to Charisma, either. It was occupied by Blanche Deevers, a beautician. Blanche, a tall, striking redhead, was busy teasing the frizzy blonde tresses of a willowy blonde when the bell tinkled above her shop’s front door, announcing Tiffany’s entrance.

“Be right with you,” Blanche called.

“Oh, I’m not here for a haircut or a makeover,” Tiffany said.

“What do you want, then, honey? A manicure?”

Tiffany blushed. “Just some information, I’m afraid.” Blanche’s features hardened. “You a cop?” she demanded. It was obvious to Tiffany that the beautician didn’t care for police officers.

“No, nothing like that.”

Blanche addressed her customer: “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” the blonde replied.

Blanche left her client in the chair, came to the counter at the front of the store, and addressed Tiffany from behind the cash register. “What do you want to know?”

“I’m looking for a lady named Charisma,” she said. “I went to the address where she was supposed to work, but it turned out to be occupied by an insurance agent. He gave me your address. He said it was Charisma’s new place of business.”

Blanche took in this information with a deadpan expression. The beautician’s eyes swept over Tiffany’s body, sizing her up. Blanche’s gaze lingered upon the jutting cleavage. Blanche didn’t seem to be too friendly, Tiffany thought. It seemed unlikely she’d be cooperative. Maybe she’d wasted her time in coming here.

After a long pause, Blanche demanded, “What do you want with Charisma?”

Blushing, Tiffany explained.

Blanche surprised her with a smile. “Charisma sold me this place a week ago. She decided to retire, she said. I guess she hasn’t notified her insurance agent yet.”

“Do you have her new address?”

“I have a phone number.” Blanche scribbled the exchange onto a notepad beside the cash register, tore off the top sheet of paper, and handed it to her visitor. “Charisma can decide whether she wants to give out her address.”

Taking the phone number, Tiffany smiled. “Thanks.”

Blanche watched Tiffany as she walked to the door. Her visitor’s ass was as fine as her perfect pair of tits. If it hadn’t been for her customer, Blanche would have asked Tiffany for a date. She’d loved to have sucked those firm, round breasts and made the beautiful young woman’s clit stiffen and swell under the lashes of her tongue. Sighing deeply, she returned to the young blonde in the chair. They kissed, and Blanche cupped one of her customer‘s pert breasts, giving it a friendly squeeze before she picked up the comb and resumed teasing the blonde’s frizzy hair. If Charisma had friends like the babe who’d just left, Charisma was one lucky bitch, she thought.

“Tiffany Lawson,” Tiffany identified herself in response to the question that the lady at the other end of the line had asked her.

“Why do you want to see me?”

“I bought one of your bras,” Tiffany explained. “It’s fabulous! I just have to meet you.” After a long moment of silence, Tiffany added, “Please.”

Charisma gave her the address at which she could be found--at least, Tiffany hoped it was the address, finally, at which the superb seamstress could be located and not just another dead end.

Driving like the wind down the broad boulevard that fronted the Pacific Ocean, Tiffany was soon driving up to the huge wrought-iron gate in tall brick wall that enclosed Charisma’s ten-acre estate.

After she’d identified herself to the butler who’d responded to her pressing of the bell beside the gate, the massive gateway opened, admitting her, and Tiffany drove up the quarter mile driveway that led to the mansion at the top of the knoll. Charisma’s chauffeur met her, whisking her car away as she walked up the wide, steep flight of marble stairs that led to the porch at the front of the massive stone house. She stood before the tall, heavy black doors with their gold-plated knocker, knob, and frame, and rang the bell to announce her presence.

The butler answered. “Please, do come in,” he incited in the same arrogant tone of voice he’d used in communicating with her over the intercom when she’d been parked outside the gate. “Madam will see you forthwith.”

Tiffany followed the tuxedo-garbed servant through the luxuriously appointed lobby and into a parlor full of antique furniture. She seated herself on a large, comfortable couch upholstered in red velvet, surveying the room. The furnishings were elegant and opulent, indicating the wealth of the mansion’s mistress more eloquently than words or reputation could hope to have done. Tiffany glanced at the sapphire necklace, the violet velvet blouse, and the black leather mini-skirt and matching thigh-high boots she wore, hoping that Charisma would not think her hopelessly gauche and vulgar. Her breasts, enhanced by the wonderful brassiere that Charisma had created, gave her some confidence. She knew that many men--and women--found her costume sexy and her physical charms sexier. She hoped that Charisma would also find her attractive.

“Hello, my dear!”

Tiffany rose, blushing, as her hostess entered the room.

“My, but you are a lovely young thing,” Charisma said, her eyes sparkling as her gaze swept over Tiffany’s figure. “Oh, but your breasts are superb!” Tiffany blushed. “Thanks to you,” she said. “Your brassiere--it’s amazing.”

“Nonsense. It can enhance only those charms that belong to you by the grace of God.”

“In my case, I had a little help,” Tiffany demurred. In answer to her hostess’ arched eyebrow, Tiffany explained, “I’m a shemale.”

Charisma studied Tiffany’s cleavage. “You haven’t had surgery there,” she concluded.

Tiffany smiled. “No, just hormones.”

“They’re lovely.”

“I have you to thank for that.”

“Nonsense. As I said, my brassiere can enhance only those charms that belong to you--whether by God’s grace or through a little hormonal assistance.”

“When I saw what your bra does for my figure, I just had to thank you,” Tiffany gushed.

Charisma sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. “Please, sit.”

Tiffany sat.

“Seeing what it does for you--both the inner and the outer you--is all the thanks I need,” Charisma declared. “I would like to see you without the bra--and without the blouse--if I may.”

Tiffany reddened, but she did as she was bidden, removing the velvet blouse and the lavender brassiere beneath and placing both carefully on the cushion between her and her hostess. She was shocked when she realized that her breasts remained as full and pronounced as they’d been while she’d been wearing the brassiere. She stared at her enlarged breasts, confusion, fear, and delight on her astonished countenance.

Charisma grinned at Tiffany’s confusion. “I’m a sorceress,” she confided, “and my apparel is enchanted. Once its effects occur, they are permanent. Your breasts will remain forever their new, increased size, whether you wear the brassiere or not.”

“But how? I mean, really? I mean--”

Charisma laughed. “I told you,” she said. “I’m magic. My clothes are magic. Now, you--or, rather, your breasts--are magic, too.” Tiffany cupped her enlarged breasts in her hands and squeezed them. They were real, not an illusion. They were genuine, not a fantasy. “Wow!”

Charisma‘s hands swept over Tiffany’s breasts. The enchantress’ long, slender fingers curled as they compressed the silken mounds, making deep indentations in the ivory flesh. Tiffany moaned, letting her own hands fall from her bosom as she squirmed on the couch, angling her upper body toward her hostess. “I was impressed,” Charisma confided to her guest, “by your perseverance in locating me, just so you could thank me for having fashioned the brassiere that gave you these exquisite breasts.”

Tiffany groaned, feeling her nipples respond to Charisma’s fondling hands and stroking fingers. Her cock also bulged, forming a tent of the front of her black leather mini-skirt. “How did you know I’d--persevered?” Tiffany asked.

“Mr. Fenner and Ms. Deevers--Martin and Blanche--informed me, of course.”

The real estate agent and the beautician, Tiffany identified Charisma’s informants. “I see,” she said. She felt the stiffness of her cock, insistent beneath her mini-skirt, and she was aware of how it jutted from her groin, just as she was conscious of how her nipples protruded from the centers of her swollen areolas. She swallowed, embarrassed. But Charisma not only seemed not to mind these exhibitions of her guest’s ardor, but also to enjoy them.

“What I didn’t realize,” the sorceress said, smiling, “was that you are a shemale.”

Tiffany gulped. She hoped that her transgendered status wasn’t offensive to her hostess. Tiffany sure didn’t want a sorceress to be annoyed at her. “I hope that’s all right with you,” she said, her voice trembling.

While she continued to knead and squeeze and stroke first one and then the other of Tiffany’s new and improved breasts with her left hand, Charisma reached up Tiffany’s mini-skirt with her right hand and caressed Tiffany’s genitals. “Nonsense,” she said. “I think shemales are the sexiest creatures on the planet.” Charisma’s lips found Tiffany’s, and the sorceress seamstress kissed her shemale visitor hard before slipping the tip of her moist pink tongue into the soft red cavern of Tiffany’s warm, wet mouth.

. . . to be continued. . . .

Charisma Ch. 02



After fondling her breasts and her cock and balls for several more minutes while she probed Tiffany's mouth with her tongue, Charisma allowed her guest to get undressed while she removed her own clothes.

The seamstress was a beautiful woman, for a genetic female, but, of course, she was nowhere nearly as gorgeous as Tiffany. Charisma had big breasts, but they sagged a little, and small discolorations and stretch marks marred the fleshly orbs, and gumdrop-size nipples capped her small areolas. Her belly wasn't concave, like Tiffany's, or even flat; it was plump, as was the small roll of fat above her dark, unruly pubes in which the cleft of her sex was hidden. Her thighs were plump as well, and dimpled with cellulite. Like her bosom, her buttocks were also flabby and bore stretch marks. There were wrinkles, too, in her face and crows' feet around her eyes. It was obvious that Charisma was past her prime, not that she was by any means unattractive.

Tiffany, on the other hand, was amazingly beautiful. Her Valentine's heart-shaped face was framed by long, wavy blonde hair, and she had wide blue eyes and full, sensuous pink lips. Even without blush, her cheeks were apple red. Her somewhat weak, pointed chin gave her a vulnerable quality that made men, and even women, want either to protect her or to ravish her. Her blonde pubic hair formed tight ringlets above her cute, diminutive penis and the small clump of her testicles-filled scrotum. Her long, sleek legs tapered to slender ankles above her small, dainty feet. Her buttocks were smooth and round, full and firm, and made Charisma want, alternately, to kiss and caress them and to spank them fast and hard until they glowed red beneath her smacking palm. Were she a man, Charisma had no doubt but that she'd want to fuck Tiffany even faster and harder with her stiff, swollen cock. Of course, as an enchantress, Charisma could sprout an erect penis in place of her cunt if she wished and, maybe later, she might yet, but, for now, she wanted to enjoy her shemale visitor as a woman enjoys a man or, rather, a lovely creature who was neither male nor female but transcended sex as she did gender.

"You are beautiful," Charisma told her guest. Indeed, the shemale was an exquisite creature--more so than most of her kind, although, as far as Charisma was concerned, all shemales were lovely. If there was any defect with regard to Tiffany, it might be her waist--it was a little thick, although not enough to be a serious flaw.

"Thanks," Tiffany replied.

Charisma's right hand toyed with Tiffany's penis, coaxing the soft, limp organ to erection while she teased the nipples of her breasts with the fingers of her other hand, pausing occasionally to squeeze the soft, sleek orbs in her fist. Tiffany moaned.

"You liked my bra, right?" Charisma asked.

"Yes," Tiffany agreed, her voice slurred with the passion building within her.

"How would you like an entire wardrobe of magic clothes?"

"Oh, God, that would be fantastic!"

Charisma smiled. "You'll have to earn them."

"I'll do anything!"

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Fuck me, then--in the ass, not the cunt."

Tiffany hesitated.

"Well?" Charisma demanded. "Do you want the wardrobe or not?"

"Yes," Tiffany answered at once. "It's just that. . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"It's just what?"

"Well, after having taken estrogen shots every day for the last year, I don't have the virility I once did. My cock, as you've noticed, isn't very manly anymore, and it doesn't get hard easily or stay up long."

"You needn't worry about that," Charisma predicted. "I daresay you'll find yourself quite the stud, your beguiling feminine charms notwithstanding."

Tiffany bit her lower lip. She was afraid that Charisma was going to be sorely disappointed. Nevertheless, if she wanted the rest of the magic outfit that the sorceress had promised her, she had no alternative but to try, at least, to play the role of the male. "All right," she said finally.

Charisma knelt upon the velvet couch, and Tiffany took her small, erect penis between her thumb and first two fingers, pointing the small, purple glans into the deep cleavage between Charisma's expansive, dimpled buttocks. Impossibly, as she watched, her penis lengthened from four to nine inches, swelled to the size of a salami, and became as rigid as petrified wood, thick blue veins standing out beneath the taut, reddened skin that stretched over the blood-engorged shaft. What the hell had just happened? Tiffany asked herself. Of course! Charisma was a sorceress. Obviously, her magic enabled her to do more than design a brassiere that could actually increase the size of one's breasts simply as a result of one's having worn the undergarment. It had been one of Charisma's enchantments that so stiffened, swelled, and lengthened Tiffany's penis into the enormous organ that now jutted from her girlish loins.

"Well?" Charisma called impatiently. "What are you waiting for now?"

Tiffany shoved her massive cock past the soft cushions of the seamstress' buttocks and through the tight ring of her anal sphincter, impaling her rectum. She pushed the entire length of the gigantic member into the older woman's bowels, stuffing her full of her cock. The tight ringlets of her pubes flattened Charisma's buttocks beneath them as she ground her hips hard into the other's ass. The sorceress moaned as Tiffany began to fuck her hard and fast, lunging and plunging her cock furiously into Charisma's speared bottom, retreating only to thrust past the sphincter yet again and cram her rectum full of her monstrous prick. Her balls collided again and again against Charisma's perineum as Tiffany assaulted the seamstress' ass, repeatedly driving her prick into her rectum with the force of a battering ram, as if she meant to split her asunder.

Charisma gave as good as she got, shoving her bottom back to meet each advance of Tiffany's cock and jerking her hips forward as the shemale momentarily withdrew. Her ass cheeks flattened and sprang back into fullness, bouncing before Tiffany's assault, just as her breasts--and Tiffany's own--swayed and jiggled with each thrust and counterthrust, with each lunge and rebound, with each plunge and retreat. Tiffany's balls slapped against the lower curves of Charisma's ass and her perineum as if the shemale were spanking her with her scrotum while she fucked her ass with her massive member. Charisma's grunts and groans punctuated every thrust: "Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!"

For the past few minutes, an irreversible tide of pleasure had been building within Tiffany's loins, and, now, the dam broke, as it were, and her whole frame trembled violently, her anus fluttering between her rapidly flexing buttocks and her thighs shuddering. Her huge prick lurched inside Charisma's rectum, straining and convulsing. She groaned, as jet after thick, warm jet of her thick semen erupted from her balls and burst from her shuddering cock. Six, seven, eight geysers of her seed spurted into Charisma's ass, and Tiffany felt drained, spent, and exhausted, but, still, her semen gushed from her leaping prick, fountains and streams of the thick, viscid fluid surging from her rock-solid penis. 

Tiffany cried out, frightened. Never in her life had she ejaculated such a volume of semen, and, still, the creamy fluid gushed and sprayed and spewed and surged from her convulsive member, as if she harbored a river of semen within her balls. She withdrew her cock, hoping that, by doing so, she might, somehow, stop the copious flood of her seed, but the fountains continued to spout, white streamers of ropy semen splattering Charisma's backside, the velvet-upholstered couch, and Tiffany's own pubes and belly and breasts. The sperm continued to spew all over the place, as if it were the semen of a bull elephant or a male rhinoceros rather than the seed of a shemale whose cock, only a half an hour ago, was a small and soft and limp as a preadolescent boy's. It was Charisma again, of course, Tiffany realized. She was full of magic tricks, it seemed.

Several more ribbons of semen unfurled against Charisma's buttocks and the velvet couch before, finally, the flood abated, leaving only intermittent spurts and trickles of the opalescent seminal fluid to leak and ooze from her dwindling and softening prick. When her member had become completely flaccid again, it had reverted to its normal, post-estrogen size, as had her balls inside the shrunken pouch of hr relaxed scrotum. However, both Tiffany and Charisma were drenched in semen, and the musky scent of Tiffany's river of semen filled the room; no doubt, the parlor would smell of her sperm for days to come.

Charisma climbed off the couch and sat beside Tiffany. She smiled at her guest. "You've done well, my dear," she remarked. "You've earned yourself a corset." As she spoke the word "corset," the article appeared out on the couch beside her guest, and Tiffany's eyes widened with surprise--and delight.

. . . to be continued. . .



Charisma Ch. 03



The corset was every bit as beautiful as the brassiere. Tiffany couldn’t wait to try it on. It was, Charisma told her, “an 1880 corset in white jacquard and white lace trim; it laces up the back.” The top of the corset rose above Tiffany’s breasts, the front covered her abdomen, and the sides enclosed her hips. “It will keep you erect--no pun intended--and it will firm and flatten you anywhere that needs minor adjustments in those areas, not that your figure needs any real assistance along those lines, other than, perhaps, your waist.”

“May I put it on?” Tiffany asked.

Charisma laughed. “Of course, dear; it’s yours.” The shemale had certainly earned it, the sorceress thought. “Don’t wear anything else, though--just the corset.”

A thought occurred to Tiffany. “Will it do anything to me?”

Charisma frowned. “What do you mean?”

“When I wore your bra, it increased the size of my breasts. Will the corset do anything similar? I mean, it’s magic, too, isn’t it?”

The seamstress grinned. “Try it on and see.”

Tiffany hesitated.

“It won’t hurt you,” Charisma promised.

Tiffany donned the corset. When she’d worn the bra, her tits had felt different, as if they were filled with jelly, and the jelly seemed to shift and slide within her breasts. She could feel her boobs expanding, swelling, seeming to inflate. These sensations had frightened her at the time, although she hadn’t remembered them since, until now. In retrospect, she realized that the sensations must have been associated with the increase in her breast size. Her tits had actually been growing inside the beautiful bra that had molded them. Her boobs had expanded to fit the bra cups. Would something similar take place with regard to the corset?

“You look sexy as hell wearing nothing but that corset,” Charisma observed.

“Thanks.”

“So sexy you’re making me horny again.”

Tiffany smiled. If Charisma wanted to have sex with her again, Tiffany was all for it, especially since doing so would likely earn her another item for her new wardrobe of magic clothes.

“This time, I want to be the man,” Charisma announced.

Tiffany frowned, puzzled. Charisma was a powerful sorceress, but could she change her sex just by using magic?

As if in answer to Tiffany’s unspoken question, a thick, long, hard cock sprang from the seamstress’ pubes. It wasn’t an ordinary penis, however. It was a double penis. A smaller cock branched off the upper surface of the larger prick. Like the larger penis, this one was also circumcised. In fact, it looked like an exact copy of the bigger version, only reduced from ten to five inches. Below the dual penises was a huge scrotum housing an oversize pair of balls.

“What do you think?” Charisma asked.

Tiffany gawked at the dual cock and immense set of balls. “Fantastic!”

Charisma laughed. “Notice how my cocks are situated. The larger will fill your cunt, while the smaller stuffs your ass.”

“But I don’t have a cunt,” Tiffany observed.

Even as Tiffany spoke these words, her own penis and testicles vanished and, in their place, a vertical gash, complete with thick labia and an unnaturally large clitoris, appeared.

“My God!” Tiffany cried, aghast.

“Don’t worry,” Charisma reassured her. “They’re only temporary--unless you want them to be permanent.”

Tiffany fingered her new cunt. The labia were soft--and moist--like the petals of a dewy rose. She inserted a finger into her vagina. Her pussy was wet inside and incredibly smooth, almost like jelly. Her clit stiffened and swelled within its hood, throbbing. Having a cunt was sexy, she thought, but she’d made up her mind to retain her male genitals long ago. Although many transsexuals weren’t happy unless they underwent sex-reassignment surgery (or mutilation, as Tiffany thought of the procedure), trading their cocks and balls for artificial vaginas, Tiffany wasn’t one of them. In her mind, she wasn’t really a man trapped in a woman’s body. She was both--and neither--male nor female; she transcended sex as much as she transcended gender. For Tiffany, such concepts as “male” and “female” were as troublesome as they were obsolete; “shemale,” a term that suggested a hermaphroditic state of sexuality and gender suited her far better. She regarded herself as a third sex more than she regarded herself as a male with breasts or a “chick with a dick.” She dressed as a woman and used feminine pronouns in reference to herself only because such practices were expected by others. Nevertheless, it was exciting to be equipped with female genitals. “Temporary, please,” she told Charisma.

“Temporary they shall be, then,” the sorceress agreed. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to fuck you.”

Tiffany adopted the same position that Charisma had assumed when it had been Tiffany who’d fucked Charisma, kneeling on the couch with her ass high in the air, her legs well parted, and her weight on her elbows and knees. Except for the wonderful corset, the rest of Tiffany was naked, and Charisma enjoyed the sights of her round ass, the glistening crescent of her cunt, as seen from between her parted thighs, and her long, tapering legs. The sorceress took her place behind Tiffany, pointing her larger cock into the tender lips of her partner’s cunt and the smaller erection into Tiffany’s anus.

“Wait!” Tiffany cried.

“What is it?” Charisma asked.

“Won’t I need to be lubricated--behind, I mean.”

Charisma laughed. “I don’t think you’ll need to be concerned about that.” The sorceress eased her hips forward, and the longer prick spread Tiffany’s labia as it penetrated her cunt. Charisma sighed deeply, loving the feel of the wet, smooth tunnel of Tiffany’s vagina sliding past the taut, swollen shaft of her rigid penis. As the bigger cock slid farther into the sopping cavern of Tiffany’s pussy, the smaller prick forced its way through Tiffany’s sphincter, spreading her tiny, puckered anus to several times its normal size. The smooth, tight ring of muscle felt as wonderful around the smaller cock as the wet pussy felt enclosing the larger organ. Unlike the labia, the sphincter fluttered frantically about the penis that had impaled it. Charisma, having buried both penises inside Tiffany, waited, relishing the sensations that the quivering asshole produced as it flexed rapidly around her smaller cock. Once the fluttering subsided and Tiffany’s asshole had relaxed, accepting the presence of the member that impaled it, Charisma began to fuck Tiffany hard and fast, slamming her pubes into her partner’s ass as she drove her dual penises deep into their respective targets.

Tiffany’s pussy was sopping wet. The juices streamed from her impaled cunt, dribbling down her inner thighs. Her pussy made slurping sounds as Charisma drove her huge cock back and forth between the soaked labia. Absurdly, Tiffany thought she’d peed herself at first. Never having had a pussy before, she wasn’t sure how a wet one should feel; the only remotely similar experience she could think of was pissing herself, as she, a bed wetter, had done for the first eighteen years of her life. It did feel a little like that, she thought, except that it felt more like she’d pissed inside herself, rather than on herself, although it also felt very different. It was unique--and sexy as hell. The cock pounding her vagina also felt different than the one that assaulted her asshole. The penis, large as it was--and it was huge--moved easily inside her drenched pussy. She could feel the girth, but more as a presence than as an invading force. It was a little like sucking a dick; her sopping cunt, like a mouth wet with saliva, better accommodated the penis than her asshole housed the smaller organ plunging repeatedly into her rectum--but, again, the comparisons went only so far, and being fucked in the cunt was different than being fucked in the face. The similarities were sexy, Tiffany thought, but the differences were even sexier.

While Charisma’s larger cock ravished Tiffany’s pussy, her smaller penis assaulted her ass, plunging and retreating in unison with its partner. The sensations of being fucked both fore and aft was tremendously thrilling for Tiffany, as it was for Charisma. Their having switched sexes, with Charisma becoming a male (or, since she’d retained her breasts and feminine ass, a shemale) and Tiffany becoming a female, was also tremendously exciting. The penis that thrust through Tiffany’s sphincter, plunging into her rectum, and withdrew through her anus to lunge into the depths of her bowels again and again crammed her ass, and the larger cock filled her cunt. Double-stuffed, she felt as if she were being violated by two men, but she knew that only Charisma assaulted her, and this knowledge was also a major turn-on.

Just as Charisma had told her, Tiffany had had no need to worry about having her asshole lubricated; like her cunt, her rectum supplied its own lubricating juices. Streams of fluid ran from her asshole, down the backs of her thighs, just as similar rivulets coursed down the fronts and inner sides of her thighs, courtesy of her sopping pussy. Like her cunt, her sodden asshole made wet, slurping sounds as the smaller prick thrust back and forth inside Tiffany’s anus. The fact that her rectum was supplying its own cunt-like lubricant, thanks to Charisma’s magic, was also incredibly exciting.

Charisma’s penises continued to jab at Tiffany’s cunt and asshole, pumping inside the dual orifices as if they were pistons inside the a two-cylinder internal combustion engine. Each thrust drove Tiffany forward on her elbows and knees, flattening her ass cheeks; each momentary withdrawal allowed her frame to lurch rearward again, jiggling her tits, and let her buttocks spring back to their normal firm, round fullness. “Uhhh!” Tiffany moaned with each shove of the pricks into her pussy and ass. “Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!”

While she was being brutally and savagely fucked in her cunt and her ass, Tiffany was aware of a few sensations other than those that resulted from these assaults on her body. She was conscious not only of being repeatedly slammed hard, of her body being rocked forward again and again under Charisma’s lunges, of the penis stuffing her cunt and of the penis stretching her asshole, of the sweat rolling from her ribcage and tummy and breasts, of the juices of her cunt and her ass trickling down her thighs, and of the orgasm building inside her loins, but she was also aware of a tightening of her abdominal muscles, a slimming of her waist, and a tapering of her hips inside the constricting corset. She was aware that her torso was undergoing physical changes much the same as her breasts, in enlarging to fill the cups of Charisma’s enchanted brassiere, had felt as if they were composed of shifting, rolling jelly. The corset was changing her--for the better, Tiffany hoped.

Charisma fucked Tiffany mercilessly, slamming her cocks home faster and harder until her hips were just a blur of motion. She fucked her visitor with an intensity of speed and force that would have been impossible had Charisma been a mere mortal rather than a sorceress. Her magic gave her superhuman strength and endurance, and she used these attributes to her advantage in fucking Tiffany. Her balls slapped against Tiffany’s ass cheeks and perineum as Charisma pounded her guest, banging her as fast and hard as she could make her own ass move.

“Uhhh!” Tiffany grunted. “Uhhh! Uhhh!” Orgasm swept through her like a tidal wave, and she howled, giving vent to the terrible pleasure that rocked her. Her cunt and her ass were awash in her juices. Streams ran down her thighs, dampening the couch’s velvet upholstery.

At the same time, a torrent of semen gushed from each of Charisma’s cocks, the thrashing penises simultaneously discharging the seed from her balls, deep into Tiffany’s vagina and rectum. More and more of the thick, viscid fluid spurted from the dual pricks, rivers flowing into Tiffany’s cunt and ass. The warm, white liquid seed, opalescent as melted pearls, seemed to flow for minutes before, at last, the flood abated and the penises began to shrivel and soften and shrink inside the respective orifices they filled. Charisma withdrew, allowing the cocks to slide free of Tiffany’s cunt and ass. A few drops of semen trickled from the penises, glazing Tiffany’s buttocks.

“Wow! That was some fuck!” Tiffany gasped. “I can still feel your pricks, filling my cunt and ass.”

“That’s great,” Charisma said, “except that you don’t have a vagina, not anymore.”

Tiffany verified the sorceress’ claim with a glance at her genitals. In place of the cunt, clit, and labia, her own cock and balls had been restored. She was no longer a female. She was a shemale again. Thank God, she thought.

Charisma laughed. “I’d say you’ve earned these, wouldn’t you?” As she said “these,” a pair of high-heeled shoes popped into existence, occupying the couch beside Tiffany.

“Shoes?” Tiffany asked. “What do they do?”

“Put them on,” Charisma suggested, “and find out.”

Charisma took a shoe in hand.

“Wait,” Charisma ordered.

Tiffany waited.

“First, take off the corset, so we can see what effect your wearing of it has had on you.”

With Charisma’s assistance, Tiffany removed the corset. She stared at her tummy. It was concave, as always, but the muscles were much firmer and tighter. Likewise, her waist and hips were narrower. The magic corset, like the enchanted brassiere, had altered her, transformed her. Whereas the bra had increased the size of her breasts, the corset had trimmed and shaped her abdomen, reducing the slight swells of fat at her waist and hips and firming her muscles to make her even more beautiful than she’d been before she’d tried on the garment.

“Like what you see?” Charisma asked.

“Love it.”

Charisma smiled. “Now, try on the shoes,” she directed.

“But my feet--they’re size eight. They’ll never fit into these shoes.”

“Try them on,” Charisma repeated.

Tiffany shook her head. Her feet were a size eight, as she’d said, but these shoes couldn’t be more than a size five. Her feet would never fit into them. She glanced at the sorceress. Charisma’s two cocks were gone, replaced by her vagina. If Charisma could create a bra that increased the size of its wearer’s tits, slim and firm Tiffany’s tummy and hips with a corset, transform Tiffany into a woman, and change her own sex at will, no doubt she could design size five shoes that would fit size eight feet. She picked up one of the shoes, hesitating.

“Go ahead,” Charisma encouraged her. “Try them on; they’ll fit.”

. . . to be continued. . . . 



Charisma Ch. 04



Tiffany held one high-heeled shoe to her foot. It wouldn‘t fit, she knew, since the shoe was several times smaller than her foot. Nevertheless, aware of Charisma, who was seated beside her, waiting for her to don the shoe, she pivoted her foot downward, inserted her toes into the front part of the shoe, and, much to her surprise, slipped the shoe onto her foot without any difficulty. She flexed her toes, admiring the sapphire velvet heel, before donning its mate just as easily.

Wide-eyed, her mouth agape, Tiffany looked at Charisma, amazement plain on her face. “They fit!” she exclaimed. “They actually fit!”

“Of course, they fit,” the sorceress replied. “I told you they would.”

“But how--”

“Your feet are smaller.”

“Two sizes smaller?”

Charisma nodded. “At least.”

“But I didn’t feel them shrink; I didn’t see them shrink.”

“Nevertheless, they did shrink, obviously. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be wearing them now.”

“Why didn’t I feel or see my feet getting smaller? I mean, I felt my breasts enlarge, and I felt my tummy, waist, and hips get smaller and become firmer.”

Charisma shrugged. “Not all spells work the same way.”

Tiffany wriggled her toes inside her new size five shoes. If anything, she thought, delighted, the shoes were a little too large for her feet. “Thanks, Charisma,” she said.

“Don’t mention it. You earned them.”

Tiffany looked down at herself. She was naked, except for the gorgeous corset and the elegant shoes she wore. Charisma had fucked her hard and well, in both the cunt and the ass, simultaneously, before restoring her cock and balls so that she was once more a chick with a dick, rather than a complete and total female. The sorceress had also reverted to her own female form, replacing the balls and the double-pronged cock that she’d caused to sprout from her groin with the pussy with which she’d been born. As a man with two pricks, Charisma had certainly had her--or his--way with Tiffany. Her asshole was still sore. No doubt, had she still had a cunt, her pussy would have still been sore as well. Still, Tiffany was so appreciative of her size five feet, her firm, flat tummy, slender waist, narrow hips, and her enlarged breasts that she felt that she owed Charisma more than she’d given to her benefactress. She turned on the couch, to face the sorceress, and kissed her on the lips.

Charisma seemed surprised, but pleased, at Tiffany’s boldness. She responded, kissing Tiffany back, firmly and passionately. Her hand cupped her visitor’s breast, squeezing the silken mound delicately while she slipped her tongue inside Tiffany’s mouth and circled the shemale’s tongue with her own.

Tiffany melted. “Mmmm,” she moaned.

As a shemale, Tiffany had fucked Charisma in the ass, and then the sorceress, transforming Tiffany into a complete female and turning herself into a shemale, had returned the favor twofold, fucking Tiffany in both the cunt and the ass. What might they do next, Tiffany wondered.

She didn’t have to wait to find out.

Breaking off their kiss, Charisma said, “Lie back, on your back.”

Tiffany did as she was told, and Charisma knelt on the carpet, at Tiffany’s feet. She removed Tiffany’s shoes and took the nearest foot, Tiffany’s right, in her hands, licking the toes and the spaces between her toes.

Tiffany was relieved to see that her feet remained size five, whether she wore the enchanted shoes or not. She wriggled on the couch, giggling. “That tickles,” she declared.

Charisma’s answer was to lick more rapidly, paying especially close attention to the spaces between her guest’s toes. She also licked the side, the sole, and the heel of Tiffany’s foot. The shemale squirmed, tittering.

“You have lovely feet,” Charisma told her, “so tiny, smooth, and delicate.”

“Thanks to you,” Tiffany agreed.

Charisma opened her mouth, bending forward, and let her lips close around the big toe of Tiffany’s right foot. Then, the sorceress began to pump her head up and down, pumping the tight circle of her lips up and down the digit as if it were a cock that she was sucking. Tiffany squirmed more vigorously, giggling and laughing. If felt wonderful to have Charisma’s soft, smooth lips pursed around her toe and to feel the warm-wet-softness of the woman’s mouth bathing her digit.

Charisma sucked Tiffany’s big toe for several minutes, pausing occasionally to lick her instep, her arch, or her heel. The shemale’s cock rose, rigid and swollen, and her scrotum tightened and lifted. A clear drop of Cowper’s fluid, or pre-cum, stood, like a drop of dew, at the tip of Tiffany’s purple glans.

Letting Tiffany’s saliva-slick toe slide free of her mouth, Charisma joined her on the couch, straddling her breasts, and set her cunt down, close to the shemale’s mouth. “Eat my pussy,” she demanded. Her voice was hoarse with desire.

Tiffany was only to happy to comply with her hostess’ directive. Lifting her head, she extended her tongue as far as she could and began to lick Charisma’s dewy labia. At first, Tiffany made long, slow, forceful strokes, some of which penetrated the slit beyond the sorceress’ cunt lips and slipped inside Charisma’s cunt. Her benefactress writhed, and Tiffany’s face was occasionally shoved against the woman’s pussy, her nose parting the veil of her labia to press into the wet, soft cavern beyond. In no time, Tiffany’s face was wet with Charisma’s cunt juices.

The shemale continued to lick Charisma’s pussy, substituting short, quick strokes of her tongue for the longer, slower laps. Charisma’ cunt was more than wet now; it was sopping; her fluids flooded her carefully coiffed pubic hair and her thighs--and, of course, Tiffany’s nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. Charisma moaned. “Oh, that’s right, baby,” she encouraged her guest. “Eat my pussy!”

Tiffany altered her technique again. Instead of the short, quick strokes she’d been delivering to her hostess’s labia, she now lashed at her cunt, beating and whipping the sorceress’ pussy lips with her tongue as if the muscle were a whip with which to flog Charisma’s tender, dripping sex. Several times, her tongue parted the curtain of Charisma’s labia and thrust into the smooth, wet cavern of her cunt. The sorceress squirmed, flooding the shemale’s nuzzling lips and lower face with her pussy juices.

Judging that her partner was aroused enough for her to assault Charisma’s clitoris directly, Tiffany began to jab at the stiff, swollen bud within the fleshly hood at the top of Charisma’s cunt. She stroked the hard, smooth button fast and furiously, and Charisma gasped and groaned, shoving her soaked pussy into Tiffany’s face. The shemale could feel the wet pubic hair nestled against her chin and jaw and lips. She continued to lick and stroke and flick Charisma’s clitoris, swallowing her pussy juices as the thick, warm fluids filled her mouth.

Charisma’s cunt gushed, discharging a continuous river of lubricating juices that made Tiffany’s wet face shine and caused her to swallow repeatedly--swallow or drown, the shemale told herself. The sorceress continued to squirm and twist, her buttocks pressing and sliding around atop Tiffany’s breasts and ribcage. If the shemale hadn’t been as caught up in performing cunnilingus upon her hostess as the sorceress was in enjoying the service, the weight and pressure of Charisma’s ass might have been uncomfortable; as it was, the feel of her sleek, soft ass cheeks flattening her tits was sexy.

Tiffany abandoned Charisma’s clitoris in favor of ministering to her cunt. She thrust her tongue into the grotto beyond the drenched labia, probing the smooth, soft interior of the liquid orifice with her prodding appendage. Charisma’s cunt was soaking wet, and her juices flowed over the invading member, filling Tiffany’s mouth. The shemale swallowed repeatedly as she explored the other’s vagina with her questing tongue, pressing her lips firmly against Charisma’s labia. Suddenly, incredibly, Tiffany’s tongue began to grow, to unreel, as it seemed, and to thicken and swell. At first, the shemale was terrified, and sought to jerk her head away from the soaked pubic mound in which she’d planted her face, but Charisma held her head in place with an unbreakable grip of her hands. “Stay!” her hostess commanded. Blind panic seized Tiffany’s soul, and she gasped, trying to shove Charisma off of her.

“Relax,” Charisma ordered.

Despite the command, Tiffany continued to struggle. Her tongue felt immense. It had to be a foot long and as thick as her wrist--and the damned thing was still growing!

“It’s magic,” Charisma explained. “The spell won’t hurt you.”

The sorceress’ simple explanation of what had caused the terrifying transformation reassured Tiffany, and the shemale lowered her arms and relaxed, concentrating on the weird sensations that resulted from the elongation and distension of her tongue as it filled the chamber of Charisma’s smooth, wet cunt. The shemale flexed the monstrous appendage tentatively, experimentally. Her tongue responded, bending and twisting deep within the sorceress’ pussy. Reassured, the delighted shemale began to work her tongue inside Charisma’s tunnel of love, probing and thrusting and licking the cunt’s wet sugar walls.

The sorceress gasped and moaned, grinding her pubes into Tiffany’s face as the shemale’s gigantic tongue fucked her cunt. It felt as if a boa constrictor had slithered into her pussy and was writhing blindly about within the sodden passage, seeking to escape. The serpentine tongue wriggled, slipped, and glided forward, through the burrow of Charisma’s vagina. It advanced a foot, then two feet, then three feet up the vaginal passage, stuffing the sorceress’ cunt with its thick, ropy length before retreating. Charisma could feel the withdrawing appendage sliding past the slick, wet walls of her cunt, just as, a moment ago, it had slithered forward within the same channel.

Charisma’s clit throbbed insistently. Thick and swollen, the erect, blood-engorged bud ached; then, suddenly, the walls of her pussy trembled and quaked, her thighs quivering and her hips thrashing as a series of powerful orgasms swept through her loins, her cunt awash in its warm, thick juices, and the hostess was moaning. Her eyes shut tightly, she was rolling her upper body back and forth while her fists opened and closed rapidly at her sides, her long, lacquered nails raking the couch’s velvet upholstery. Inside her pussy, her guest’s tongue dwindled rapidly back top its normal size, and Tiffany removed the member from her hostess’ sopping cunt, lowered her head, and gasped for breath. With her elongated tongue swollen to many times its normal size, she’d been forced to breathe through her nose, and, much of the time, one or both nostrils had been blocked by Charisma’s pubes, labia, or vagina. She was thankful that, unlike her enlarged breasts, her firmer, flatter tummy, her narrower waist, her slender hips, and her smaller feet, her huge tongue was not a permanent feature. Only those effects that were caused by the magic clothing--bra, corset, and shoes--were permanent, it seemed.

While Tiffany was recovering her breath, Charisma picked up a small bell on the coffee table near the couch and rang it. Tiffany frowned, wondering what her hostess was doing.

A moment later, the butler appeared, dressed impeccably in a fine tuxedo.

Tiffany, embarrassed to be seen wearing only a corset and a pair of high heels, blushed. However, if the butler found her nudity shocking or scandalous or even titillating, his expression, grave as ever, gave no indication of his thought or feeling. “Yes, madam?” he said to Charisma.

“Have James bring the car around, please,” she instructed her servant. “Miss De Vine is leaving now.”

“Yes, madam.” He turned and marched from the parlor.

“I need to get dressed,” Tiffany said.

“Whatever for?” Charisma asked, smiling in amusement at her guest’s modesty.

Tiffany frowned, puzzled. “Isn’t your chauffeur going to drive me home?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, don’t I need to get dressed?”

“Nonsense. You look fine just the way you are.”

“But--”

“I’d like to give you something,” Charisma declared. A small box appeared on the outstretched palm of her hand. “A small token of my affection.”

“That’s sweet,” Tiffany replied, “but unnecessary.”

“You’d deny me the pleasure of expressing my fondness for you, my dear?”

“Never.“ Tiffany accepted the gift. Opening the box, she withdrew a delicate gold chain upon which was suspended a gold locket. She unlatched the locket, opening it. Inside were tiny photographs of her and Charisma, shown from the waist up. Both were nude, displaying their breasts, shoulders, necks, and faces.

“A keepsake,” the sorceress said, “to wear close to your heart. Here, let me help you put it on.”

In a moment, Charisma had fastened the necklace around Tiffany’s neck.

“It’s beautiful,” Tiffany said, smiling. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The chauffeur appeared in the doorway. “Are you ready, Miss?” he called to Tiffany.

“I’ll be right there,” she called back. To Charisma, the shemale said, “Is it magic?”

Charisma smiled.“Everything’s magic.”

“What does it do?”

“It reminds you of me--of us.”

Normally, Tiffany would have been embarrassed to ride home half naked with a stranger, her cock and balls on display beneath the beautiful corset that covered her enlarged breasts. She loved being a shemale, but she wasn’t all that comfortable in the presence of strangers, even when she was fully clothed. Somehow, though, she wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable in the back of the limousine, even though she was aware that the driver peeked at her often in the rear view mirror. Tiffany didn’t mind her situation at all. Fingering the locket on the delicate gold chain that hung between her enlarged breasts, she was much too busy thinking of Charisma or, rather, of Charisma and her together. She hadn’t been gone from the sorceress’ side for more than fifteen minutes, and, already, she missed her immensely. As she thought of the two of them together, her fucking Charisma with a huge cock, of Charisma’s double-pronged prick in her ass and temporary cunt, and of her tongue made huge licking and probing Charisma’s watery cunt, Tiffany’s cock rose, stiff and swollen, and her balls, like her erect nipples, ached. Her fingers stroked the fine chain on which the locket was suspended. She’d call Charisma as soon as she got home and tell her how much she loved her, how much she missed her, how she was desperate to see her again.

The End