He sat at his desk, aghast. Was she really doing this to him? Was his student actually flashing her crotch in his face? She sat there, smug as all hell, with her feet propped up on her desk, her vagina clearly dripping wet. Why was she so turned on? Was she actually enjoying this? He wished for this transformation because she was unbearable in her teasing. He needed to shut her down, and punish her.
He couldn’t possibly look, but he couldn’t possibly look away. He would instantly lose his job if anyone, ever, spread that he was staring up a student’s skirt. But how could he turn away from this beautiful sight? It was the greatest pussy he’d ever seen--magnificently covered in orange fabric, somehow simultaneously perfectly natural and magically sensual.
His dick was as hard as a rock, teased half to death by this monstrous girl. His cock begged for his attention, fully engorged with blood. He slipped a hand onto his bulge, first just resting it there, then slowly and softly massaging his penis through his pants.
Suddenly, he pulled his hand away, and forced it onto his desk. He couldn’t touch himself at school. That is absolutely crossing a line.
But it would feel so good... He could hide his wet pants if he stayed at his desk all class...
He can only imagine the immense pleasure he would get from cumming to this perfect image of her wet nylon pussy. He closed his eyes and imagined how slick her new body must be, with soft and smooth tights enveloping her beautiful vagina. And all that, her perfect alien pussy, wrapped around his throbbing cock.
No. Holding onto every ounce of willpower left in his body, he forced himself to stop, think of other things, and take it out on her when he got home. She would pay for doing this to him. He was supposed to be in control, not her. How dare she enjoy these freakish changes. She’s covered from her toes to her neck in orange tights, and she’s happy and horny as ever. Hasn’t she looked in a mirror? Why doesn’t she feel like a freak?
His next steps were obvious.
His cock was begging for attention the entire car ride home, but and he spent every second in a world of his own, locked in a fantasy world of transformations. Every moment that passed left his dick harder, his pants wetter, and his brains fuller with ideas of new changes to inflict on her.
Finally, he swung his front door open, bolted to his room, and sat down on his bed with his weapon. The magical lamp glinted in the light of his room, and a devilish grin sparked across his face. If it worked the first time, maybe he still has two ‘wishes’ left...
He had come up with endless ways to ruin her--to turn her into the perfect foot slave. She wanted to tease him relentlessly, even with her clownish new orange skin, and he was going to make sure she regretted every moment of that.
She likes her feet that much? Maybe she needs to experience a growth spurt. She won’t be able to show her face in his class with size 24 feet.
Or maybe she needs some more of them... She doesn’t need hands, does she? What damage can she do to him with big useless toes instead of fingers and thumbs?
What about her mouth? She always had that stupid smile on her face, as she sat there teasing him with her toes. He could give her a mouth full of toes--that would shut her up.
So many options...