Your phone buzzes again as you buckle your seatbelt.
It's a text from your ex-girlfriend, Patricia.
You text back:
You drive over to Patricia's place, about six blocks from where you live. You used to spend four or five nights a week here when you were together. Her place is just so much nicer than yours--at least it was, before you got your magic gun. You pull into an open spot, park, and tuck the gun in the waistband of your pants.
You enter the building and get in the elevator, pressing the button for 8.
Two minutes later, you're knocking on 8K and Patricia opens the door. She looks like you remember. Shoulder-length black hair pulled into a ponytail, blue eyes, pretty face, medium perky tits and a once-athletic frame that carried maybe fifteen extra pounds in her ass and hips. She was wearing a tee from some 5K Fun Run and a pair of gym shorts. She was cleaning the apartment today.
"Hey Mark," she scowls. "Your box is in the closet."
"The place looks a lot different," you say as you step inside.
"Tommy moved in."
"Congrats," you say flatly.
Tommy was her asshole boss that she was cheating on you with for the last four months you were together, and you had no clue until the day you left work with a migraine and came here to find him balls-deep in Patricia on the kitchen table.
"No work today?" you ask, casually.
"I don't work anymore. Tommy takes care of me. He runs a whole department, not stuck in some dead-end cubicle."
"Cool, cool. I got promoted to Vice President."
"What?" you see the shitty smirk fall off her face.
"Yeah. I'm driving a Tesla now," you gloat, showing off your keys. "Tommy still driving that old Mazda?"
"Go get your box and get the fuck out of here," she snaps.
"Sure, I just need to use the bathroom."
"No, just take it and leave."
"I'll just be a minute!" you say as you step in and lock the bathroom door behind you.
"You fuck! Hurry up in there!" she shouts.
You pull the gun out of your pants and start concentrating on what you want Patricia to become.
You breathe out and try to calm your nerves.
This bitch deserves it.
You open the door as silently as you can and sneak down the hall toward the back bedroom where you can hear Patricia moving things around.
You peek around the doorframe and spot her: bent over digging through a box.
You aim and pull the trigger, and Patricia is engulfed in a bright flash of light.
Just then, you hear keys jingle and the door to the apartment swings open. Tommy walks in. You close the door to the room Patricia is in.
"Baby, I came home for lunch!" he shouts. Then he sees you.
"Mark? What are you doing here?" he cocks his head, like a dog trying to figure out a ringing phone.
"Oh, shit. Hey Tommy. Patricia asked me to come by to get the last box of my stuff. I was just about to grab it and head on out."
"Yeah. Well, it's not back there. It's in the hall closet," he explains as he goes to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.
"What's the matter, pal?" he continues. "Can't you lift it? What do you bench these days? Ahh, nevermind. Hey, why aren't you at work? Get fired from the cube farm?"
"Oh, no, actually, I'm Vice President now," you say as you open the hall closet, praying for the gun to be in your box.
"Yeah, right."
It's not there. Fuck. You start sifting through the items in the box.
"Really," you reply.
"Where's Patricia?" he asks.
"She's in the bathroom," you lie. Then you see it! The familiar handle of the gun.
You hear Tommy approaching you as you dig in the box for the gun.
"Hey, asshole. Get your fucking box and get out of my house."
You turn and it looks like Tommy is going to punch you. That is, until you panic and pull the trigger again. Tommy is engulfed in a bright flash of light.
Moments later, you have your two new creations together, you have to say you're impressed.
Patricia and Tommy have transformed into identical twins. They look like your typical bubbly blonde cheerleader-types. Short, maybe five foot two at most. Big tits, tight toned stomachs, long athletic legs, and blonde hair pulled into pigtails. They're both wearing slutty cheerleader uniforms and clear lucite stripper heels.
They both giggle a lot.
"So, girls. Tell me about yourselves."
"Well, I'm Trish and this is, like, my twin sister Tammy," says the one on the left.
"We're sisters!" says the one on the right.
"We're eighteen, and we dance every night at the Show & Tail," says Trish.
"The gen... gent... the gennle... the strip club near the airport," says Tammy, proudly sticking out her tits.
"It's super nice. We make lots of money from all the boys. Everybody wants to get a lap dance from, like, superhot big titty twin bimbos," says Trish.
"Yeah, and we're both, like, super dumb," says Tammy.
"Yeah, real dumb. We droppeded out of high school," brags Trish.
"Yeah. Sexy bimbos like us don't belong in school. We belong on the pole," gloats Tammy.
"Yeah, and we like dancing, and partying, and looking hot, and fucking our man," says Trish.
"And sucking him!" says Tammy.
"And who's your man?" you ask.
"YOU, silly!" the girls answer in unison, giggling and jiggling their big tits and asses.
You look around the apartment, and it has definitely changed. The adult furniture is gone. In its place, there's an old futon, a stereo, and a stripper pole. The rest of the place is pretty much empty except for empty liquor bottles.
You take a seat on the futon and turn on the stereo.
"Why don't you dumb sluts show me what you do best?"
The blonde sluts jump for joy on their ridiculous high heels and scramble into position as the song starts to play.
One of the girls climbs into your lap and starts gyrating and grinding against your cock while the other one steps up to the pole and begins an acrobatic routine where she flips and spins around with astonishing grace and athleticism.
As the first song ends, the girls switch places, both now topless. You've got one of them in your lap, and she's rubbing her big natural tits in your face, while the other one is spinning and flipping around the pole.
When the second song comes to a close, both girls are now naked--except for the heels--and writhing around on your lap. They sloppily kiss each other, as they unzip your fly and take your dick out. Then they lower their kiss down to your erection and begin making out with your cock, one girl from each side.
Then one girl shifts down and starts tonguing your balls while the other girl steps over her friend, turning her back to you, and lowers her pussy onto your dick. You pierce into her cunt and it feels like sticking your dick into molten gold. Your eyes roll back as your twin whores work your cock and balls with every ounce of their being.
The girl riding you screams in ecstasy and clenches your cock with her pussy as she cums. Then she climbs off your shaft and switches places with her twin sister.
This one must be Tammy, because this is the third virginity you've taken today.
"Fuck yeah, fuck me, Daddy!" she yelps as you tear through her hymen into her minutes-old pussy.
"Take it, you fucking whore," you growl into the now-gorgeous face of what used to be the man who had stolen your girlfriend. "You fucking piece of shit. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!"
"Yeah, fuck me!"
"Fuck both of us, Daddy!" comes the voice of agreement from under your nutsack.
You roughly shove Tammy off your lap, and grab Trish by the hair. You bend her over the arm of the futon, and spit on her exposed asshole.
"Ohhhhh!" she squeals as you press your cockhead against her rosebud.
"You never let me fuck this ass before, bitch. But I own you now."
"Yeah you do. I'm sorry, Daddy. I was a bad girl, but I'll be good now, I promise. You can fuck my ass anytime you want, Daddy."
Tammy gets on her knees and starts sucking your cock, to get it ready for her sister's ass.
You give Tammy a sharp slap across the face, pop your dick out of her mouth, and plunge into Trish's butthole.
Trish screams as you start powerfucking her asshole. You feel Tammy's tongue get back to work on your balls as you thrust as hard as you can into Trish's anus. Then Tammy's tongue finds your asshole and she starts rimming you.
Between Trish's screams and Tammy's tongue, you can't hold back anymore. You pull out of Trish and push the girls onto their knees next to each other and start painting their faces with your cum. Your first shot hits Trish in the eye, plastering it closed. Your second shot blasts Tammy in the chin and slaps up across her lips and reaches almost to her eyebrow. You alternate shots, and by the time you're done cumming, both girls look like they got into a fight at a frosting factory.
Then the tight blonde teen twins start licking your load off each other's faces.
"Fuuuuck. Not bad, sluts. Not bad at all..." you say over the girls' moans. You get dressed and then go to the bathroom to take a piss.
When you come out of the bathroom, the twins are there holding proudly holding out a huge wad of bills.
"Here's all the money we made this week, Daddy."
"Boys gave it to us for dancing."
"And kissing each other! They love watching that."
You take the ball of bills and start counting it out. It's a lot of ones, but a surprising amount of tens and twenties, and more hundreds than you'd have expected are mixed in. It's close to three grand.
"Good job, girls. Do you need any money for anything this week?' you ask. The twins stare at you blankly.
"Groceries? Gas? Club fees?"
Trish's eyes go bright. "Oh! Yes, we each need..." she scampers to a nearby drawer and takes out a notebook. ...a hundred and fifty dollars for the week," she turns the book toward you, and you see the budget written in your own handwriting. This reality-warping is weird. Not that I'm complaining.
You peel off three hundred dollars in tens and twenties and give it to the girls.
"Thank you Daddy!" they say in unison, jiggling their tits.
You think about taking your box from the closet, but decide to leave it there.
Fuck you, Patricia.
You add a key to the apartment to your keyring and leave your twin eighteen year old bimbos to fuck each other stupid until it's time for their shift at the strip club.