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The Magic Shop

Waking up at a Festival

added by The Spellbook 9 months ago BM

You wake up on the boardwalk, though you expect to be groggy, you actually feel quite awake. Especially weird since it was the middle of the night, the beach lit up with various party lights. Was there a festival going on or something?

You check your body for any weirdness, in case that guy you were still looking for did anything to you. Luckily, you were still in a humanoid shape. Still busty with gravity-defying melons, still the same four-foot eleven height, still having your natural neon pink hair in a pair of butt-length pigtails, still the same bubblebutt.

Your outfit wasn’t change either. Still the neon pink thong and sparkly nipple tassels, same grass hula miniskirt, and your pig nose is still strapped on to your face.

…Wait a minute, something was extremely wrong here!

Your glass dildo isn’t in your dainty hands!

You look around, but cannot find the object that was so important to you. You were so desperate to keep into your ass, as well! You hump the air in fury, arms behind your head as you twirl around your tassels by shaking your chest.

Then you realize that that bastard might still have it! You don’t waste a single minute, you storm towards the beach, as fast as your natural walk of one hand behind your head, another on your hip, and sultrily strutting as the slutty jazz music plays in your head.

The supposed festival on the beach appeared to be all normal carnival events, like a ring toss booth to get a ring around a futa slut’s cock, a bunch of slutty clowns dancing around the crowd (though they kept saying weird things like “Help me! Some asshole transformed me into this!”. Bunch of weird humor, you think), and of course the live band, singing the latest hits like “Please Help Me” and “I’m a Huge Cunt For Dumping My Ex-Boyfriend”. The lead singer even acted the part, looking distressed as she keeps singing in her Jessica Rabbit attire, humping her mic stand as she sung out in her husky voice. Man, that’s committing to the song, you think, and moved on.

Eventually, you walk and spy the bastard! He was sitting on his throne as usual, observing everyone at the festival. Though still distracted with the phone. Tammy was leaning against the throne, wearing a jester cap and a collar. She was panting like a happy puppy, gazing longingly at the asshole’s massive cock. Which was not hard, since all he wore on his ripped body was a king’s crown. Even you were slightly salivating at it, but you felt that you could hold yourself in check enough to get what you came for.

“Hey, dickhead! *Oink!*” You oinked, pointing at him with the best threatening posture you think you could manage, shoving your other hand into your voluminous cleavage alluringly.

He looks up, Tammy also doing so, breaking her trance, before she falls to the floor in a fit of giggles and barking. The phone-holder meanwhile only evilly smiled.

“You Oinking better give me back my glass dildo and phone so Oink can fix whatever mess you caused!” You then begin strutting menacingly towards him, though in an almost Baywatchian slow-mo, which you notice much to your distress. “Oh-oink dear…”


What do you do now?


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