Hi Pink Fairy. My boyfriend said he was getting tired of me always talking back and that I should just be there for his pleasure and to clean up after him.
Would it be possible to give him the ability to turn me into his own personal fleshlight? And when he needs someone to clean up after him, or provide two fuckable holes, could he turn me from the fleshlight into an obedient suited slave?
He said that I looked best in a nice grey suit and tie with a nice crisp white shirt and shiny black shoes.
Relationships really do come in all shapes and sizes, don’t they? Your boyfriend sounds like a great guy. I bet that he and the Purple Fairy would get along fantastically well with each other! That’s the kind of man that knows what he wants, and won’t hesitate to do what he needs to get it. That’s the kind of man that doesn’t really want to hear your prattle and just wants someone to take care of the things that he really shouldn’t be wasting time with.
It’s just unfortunate that things have come to this, wouldn’t you say? I mean, surely you must have come into this relationship with some inkling as to the type of guy that he is. Why would you even talk back to him? Are you trying to be a brat? Or did you let yourself get deluded by those silly little “progressives” that you could ever possibly be equal to your boyfriend in your relationship?
Maybe that works for some of them. But that definitely won’t work for an airheaded little slut like you. I’m sure you’ve come to realize that now, since you’re coming to the Pink Fairy for help. Don’t worry. Your wish will come true. But I wonder if you’re ready to pay the price for the change that you want to happen…
Oh, well. Too late for that, now!
You wake up, a bit disorientated. It’s dark so it must be really early in the morning. You remember that you were dreaming, but you can’t quite remember the details. Even the image that you do recall, this intersection of two streets that shouldn’t exist, is rapidly fading. You try to get up, but you realize that you can’t move your body. Try as you might, your body refuses to budge.
It isn’t until a few minutes later, as you feel the graze of fingers against your skin, that you realize you’ve changed. You shiver at the touch, or at least you would if you could move. Your skin is more sensitive than it’s ever been. The mere touch is so good, sending pleasure shooting through your being at the barest of contact. You feel the fingers grab something that’s attached to you, and you feel it twist before popping free.
Light floods your world and as your vision clears, you find your boyfriend looking at you, wearing a cocksure smirk on his face. “God,” he says, “this is so fucking hot. Don’t have to deal with you hogging the blankets at night, mouthing off when I tell you not to. Just putting you away like any other sex toy. You’re so much better like this.”
You realize then that you’ve turned into a flesh light. You feel the silicone that makes up your main body quiver in excitement as arousal floods into your mind, making it difficult to think. You feel as though you’re fully erect, but you’re powerless to do anything about it, and that sensation only makes the situation hotter. You’re entirely at your boyfriend’s mercy, and you don’t think that anything could feel better.
At least until he lowers you over his cock and you feel his blunt cockhead slipping past your lips and sinking into your asshole at the same time. It’s like you’re riding him and blowing him all at once, and it feels so good that it makes your mind melt. You feel memories, desires, identity, intelligence, all pop away like delicate little soap bubbles as he thrusts up into you, massaging your insides with his mighty cock and turning you, irrevocably into nothing more than a fuckhole for him to use.
It isn’t until you’re kneeling there, in your suit and tie, with cum plastered across your face that you realize you’ve turned back to your human form. “Take care of the house,” your boyfriend says, as he stands up and brushes past you, tapping you lightly on the cheek. He scratches his stomach as he makes his way over to the exercise machine in the corner. “I’m going to work out and play games, maybe fuck a slut or two. You can go clean. Do your chores. Whatever shit you do to keep this place up and running.”
“Oh, and don’t forget to whore yourself out on camera, little slut,” he says, “Someone needs to keep bringing the money in, and I’m not going to fucking sit behind a desk from 9-5 when I can have someone else do it for me.”