With a annoyed, high pitched grunt, you snatch the recorder away from Cici. “Cut it out!” You say, trying to suppress your horniness, although your voice is becoming more and more sexulizied, sounding less like speaking and more like moaning.
Cici pouts, putting her hands on her hips. “What the fuck, Cassie?” She says, her voice dripping with annoyance. “That thing is like, soooo cool. I want to play with it more!”
“You’ve done more than enough damage.” You say with authority. Just a few minutes ago, your (former) sister was a bookworm and you were man. Now reality was horribly bent out of shape, and you don’t want to risk any more changes. “I’m taking it back to the shop and asking the old man for some way to fix this mess!” You try to stand, but your knees buckle. Your horomones are driving you crazy, and you can barely think straight. You stumble to the floor, dropping the Recorder.
Cici pounces, snatching the Recorder away before you can reach it. She stands over you as you stuggle to stand up but can’t, an angry look on her face.
She presses the button and practically shouts “I wish you weren’t so fucking lame!”
Realizing what she has done, horror fills you both. A dread filled silence ensues as you both wait to hear what the recorder would spit back out. Then, it creaks to life and says through heavy static “I wish you were my fucking slave!”
Dread turns to terror as you stare wide eyed and helplessly at Cici, who looks more confused than anything. “Isn’t that, like, totally illegal?”
Before you can respond, you feel a heavy weight around yout neck materialize. You manage to stand up, though you’re still quivering with lust, as you grasp at your neck, trying to pull whatever it is off. However, in your struggle, you catch and glimpse of yourself in the nearby vanity, and you realize with dread that a thick golden collar has been fastened around your neck. Your hands fall to your sides as you watch helplessly, the dread feeling like a black hole in your stomach.
Soon, your top begins to shrink and tighten, until it has morphed into a skimpy, golden bikini top, matching your collar. It clings almost painfully tightly to your breasts, and leaves little to the imagination. The changes continue, as your underwear dissolves away and your pants shrink and tighten, unitl the only thing shielding your lower half is a golf plate and an attached cloth colored a deep, sensual velvet. The ensemble is completed when your socks morph and stretch, becoming wicked six inch gold heels that force you to stick yout breasts and ass out. The outfit bares a striking resemblance to another certain slave outfit you remeber ogling as a child. You never imagined you’d one day be wearing something so demeaning.
Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a thick chain suddenly sprouts from your collar and shoots across the room, landing in Cici’s hand. She had been watching you change in stunned silence, her mouth hanging open in wonder. Now she snapped out of it, eyeing the chain now in her hand. “No. Fucking. Way.” She says, her eyes bulging and a sinister smile growing on her pink lips.
“Cici...” you say nervously. You try to back away but the chain keeps you from moving much. “Lets not do anything hasty...” Cici doesn’t respond, instead placing that cursed Recorder on the bed and taking s step towards you. She puts her finger to her lips, as if deep in thought. (At least deep as a bimbo can be in thought)
“P-Please don’t-“ You start to say.
“Like, shut up, slave.” Cici interupts, cruel joy in her sexy voice. Immediately, your mouth slams shut. You try to speak, but your mouth refuses to open, and you can only manage muffled moans. “I said, shut up!” She says, louder this time. You become completely silent, unable to muster any noise at all. Horror courses throughout your entire body. Cici seems pleased with herself, giggling and twisting the chain in her fingers. “Jump, slave!” She demands. You feel your legs move against your will as you jump as high as you can into the air, landing awkwardly as you almost fall over. She laughs, clapping with glee. “Like, lick the floor, slave!” She commands. “Slowly.” With excruciating slowness, you bend over and get on your knees. You scream mentally, trying to resist her commands with all your might, but your body ignores you as you bend down, stick out your long, salivating tongue and lick a section of the carpetted floor. You try to recoil in disgust, but you are helpless as you drag your tongue meticulously across the carpet, feeling the hair and fuzz against your taste buds. After a full five seconds, you lift yout tongue from the floor. You desperately want to scrub your tongue off, but your limbs ignore you. Still bent over and on your hands and knees, you can only look up at Cici, begging with your wide eyes for this to stop.
Instead, Cici stares back at you, hunger in her eyes. She yanks hard on the chain, pulling you closer. Your face lands on the carpet, and you stare up at yout master expectantly, much as you try to resist. She leans down, crouching as she lowers her head to your ear. You can nothing as she opens her mouth and plunges her studded tongue into your ear, sticking in into every nook and cranny. You want to scream, your pussy aches with hunger, but still, you are helpless. At last, she finishes, and then presses her lips to your ears and whispers sensually “Pleasure me, slave.”
As she takes a seat on the bed, you mechanically get to your knees and deftly pull down Cici’s tiny yoga pants, revealing her tight panties. Part of you is disgusted. This used to be your sister, after all. But in this reality, she is your lover and your master, and you have no choice but to obey. With care, you pull down her panties, and without a second thought, you press your lips against hers. Soon, it is your turn to insert your tongue into her, to which she responds by practically screaming with orgasmic joy. She grabs the back of your head and pushes you in deeper, your tongue plunging deeper into her as her juices fill your mouth and flood your tastebuds. All you can taste, smell, and feel is her as she climaxes with a final cry of joy.
She flops back on the bed, breathing heavily. You obediently sit back, still on your knees and dripping pussy juice from your mouth, awaiting your next command as lust and disgust roll around your head.