Elisa gives a rather flat performance

Elisa chose to sit next to me, so she’s the next to go now that intermission is over. Hand hovering beside the laptop’s chrome edge, the man slips her a card as soon as the laptop prints it.

She approaches us nervously. The bookish type, Elisa doesn’t seem like she’d function well in the spotlight, but Caitlyn keeps flashing her little thumbs ups to encourage her, which is honestly kind of cute. I try to catch Ashe’s gaze, but she’s distracted, and doesn’t return it.

Upon stepping to the center of the room, Elisa takes one look at the card and almost immediately double-takes. Her cheeks light up, and she turns back to the man: “Is this really my card…?”

He shrugs. “Get to it.”

Elisa faces us, shielding her brow with one hand in embarrassment as she re-reads the card. Like she’s hoping it’s changed somehow. No dice, apparently.

Timidly folding her card up into a square, she tosses it onto a nearby coffee table. She puts up two fingers, signifying two words. Then, she brings her hands together, like in prayer. She opens them, her palms facing towards her.

“Holy Bible!” Adam shouts, and Elisa shakes her head. “Cookbook,” mumbles Dianne, mouth full of crescent roll, and is shot down in a similar fashion. I kinda want to guess too, but I’m still not sure if coffee-girls are allowed, so I decide maybe I'll sit this one out.

Ashe pipes up. “Newspaper…?” And Elisa shakes her head. She mimes holding a camera in her hands, getting on one knee like a flash photographer and ‘clicking’ the shutter button with her index finger.

“Magazine! Magazine photographer!” Caitlyn shouts, and Elisa turns towards her. She wiggles her hand like not exactly…

She takes a breath. Then, in a series of actions I’d never expected mousy Elisa to ever attempt in public, she starts showing herself off. She squeezes her boobs with her hands. She twists her hips and lands a spank on her rear, as if she were a much more confident girl showing off in a club. Her face is burning.

Caitlyn’s mouth drops open. Ashe squeals in surprise. Even Crystal looks up for a moment.

Elisa faces only towards her girlfriend, evidently hoping for some sort of couple’s telepathic link to kick in and save her. She's performing what looks like an awkward lap dance, pushing various curvy parts of her around and towards Caitlyn in ****, sexy bursts.

“Babe,” Caitlyn squeaks, breathless, “What are you doing…?” Her eyes are locked onto the bounce of Elisa’s chest as she wiggles around in the awkward dance.

“Is it ‘stripper’?” Adam calls from the other couch.

“C’mon, baby. I know you can get this,” Elisa whispers, her voice dripping with a red-hot fusion of embarrassment and arousal. She turns around and shifts between poses, pushing her butt towards her seated GF.

Caitlyn hides her face with her hand. “Uhm, uh. Oh god, is it a Playboy? Like… an adult magazine?” Caitlyn whispers.

Elisa sighs in relief, halting her dance. She grins and nods. Her hand reaches to affectionately cup Caitlyn’s cheek. “Good job babe–”

Ding!

Poof!

Elisa collapses into herself, vanishing into the cloud. When it dissipates, Elisa has fallen, spread open, onto the ground.

“O-oh! Are you okay, honey?” Caitlyn says, quickly peeling her floppy girlfriend off the floor and dusting off her glossy cover. She recoils when her hand brushes against the breasts, jutting out from Elisa’s printed body.

A now pictorial Elisa on the cover is lying in a violet satin void, entirely naked, with two large breasts, fully 3D, that jut out of the magazine. They look to be made of soft silicone and are large enough that they hang past the bottom of the page. Her face is a frozen expression of coquettish lust, her hands crossed above her in a come take me kind of pose.

Elisa is printed on the cover of the magazine she now is. Talk about an Eliception.

Caitlyn holds Elisa out in front of her. “Goodness, look at you. You look… happy…?" She takes in her girlfriend's lustful visage, blushes, and timidly hugs the magazine tight to her chest.

“Hey, what's with the modesty?” The man yells from the corner of the room. “You trying to hide the knockers? Show the class. Hell, pass her around!”

Caitlyn scowls, evidently taking issue with the man’s tone vis-à-vis her girlfriend, but complies regardless. She hesitantly passes Elisa to Adam, who wolf whistles as he flips through the glossy girl-mag. “God dayum. Never noticed it before but she’s a looker,” he says to Caitlyn, before Diana flicks him on the side of the head and pulls Elisa from his hands.

“Pig,” she mutters, before she smiles kindly down at Elisa. “Are you okay, honey? Need to eat something? You’re as thin as a…” she giggles, not bothering to finish the lame joke.

She doesn’t even bother handing her to Crystal. Soon enough, Elisa is in my hands.

First impressions aren’t great. Elisa's material is cheap and flimsy, made of a thin plasticky paper that makes me worried I might accidentally rip her. She’s about 9” x 11”, and half an inch thick. ELISA is emblazoned across the top of her cover in a bright yellow font, right next to the publishing date (today, obviously). Just below the title is a tagline: She may be paper-thin, but she certainly isn't flat!

Blech. Corny.

In the right upper quadrant of the cover is a thoughtcloud-shaped boxout, with a tail of little circles leading to Elisa’s head:

{reveal "..."} Mmmn… Where am I? Caitlyn? This –mmn, oh this feels so good. Oh fuck. Stare at my titties. It feels so good when you look at them. God. I don’t know where I am. I feel so thin. Just keep looking. It feels so good when you read me. Jerk off to me, please… fuck, just keep reading, keep looking at me, yesyesyesyesyesyesohhGOD. FUCKING READ ME. You couldn’t know how amazing this feels. GOD. I’m a good little magazine. Squeeze these tits. Masturbate and cum to me, please. Stain my pages! Fuck…! {endreveal}

Interesting. I experimentally pinch one of Elisa’s soft rubbery tits, rolling the hard nubbin of a nipple beneath my thumb, and I can see Elisa’s face on the cover morphing in real-time, becoming more and more lust-filled. I wonder if she's lenticular or something.

Opening her up, I flip through a couple pages– pin-ups, compilations and double spreads, all starring Elisa. Each page seems to portray different events in her life in what I can only assume are pornified reimaginings. For example the first page, her 18th birthday (caption: ‘Bare’ly legal!), is a flashy double spread of Elisa in her birthday suit, squatting on her toes, knees spread and eagerly fellating a handheld mic at a karaoke bar, while friends around her cheer. Skipping forward a few pages to her college graduation, it's her with a gown and a golden stole, bent over and pantsless, getting her cap fucked off of her at the podium during her speech (caption: This year’s Vale-dick-torian…). Seeing as Elisa is bi, this tracks.

There's even a full page ad for a double-ended marital aid that features her, asscheek to asscheek with a perfect clone of herself, clutching each other's hands behind them, the one on the left getting PIV and the one on the right getting anally reamed so that the dildo bends upwards in between them. Caption: Double the fun for only 24.99!

Shrugging, I pass her down the line. I never really ‘got’ the point of these porn mags or even porn in general– why not just find yourself a partner and have the real thing? Though I guess it's tough when your partner is the porn. At least Elisa seems to be enjoying herself.

Not sure I can say the same about Caitlyn. She has a strangely vexed look on her face, something the man has taken notice of. “What’s wrong, gorgeous? Feel weird seeing your girlfriend get passed around?”

Caitlyn looks up, lost in thought. “Huh? No… I mean, she is a magazine now, and I guess that’s what they’re for... it’s just–”

“What, having second thoughts? Yeah, it’s a little hard to imagine dating stationary, huh?” The man smiles knowingly.

She shakes her head. “That’s not–”

“Something tells me date nights are gonna be spent at home from now on, huh? Maybe under the covers with a flashlight?”

“Please stop.”

Smirking, the man rips Elisa from Oscar’s hands. He squeezes a breast in between his fingers and it balloons out like a rubber stress ball. “Sorry. Hard not to objectify her when she's got her tits out like this. She's kind of asking for it, no?"

“Elisa isn't just....,” Caitlyn kneads her lap in frustration. “Sure, I know she looks like a sex object now, but... She's also still the woman I love. Isn't she? She’s sweet, and kind, and intelligent... she has a degree.”

He hoots. “Fat lot that’s gonna do for her. Hell, her degree is probably printed on nicer paper than she is.”

“...”

“Plus, I can't see how she’ll be able to hold any kind of employment. Outside of lying in the waiting room of the world’s skeeviest dentist.”

“She is… she was going to be a wedding photographer.”

“Well there you go. See? I just saved the both of you from a lot of heartbreak. And money troubles.”

“We’ll work it out,” Caitlyn whispers, a pained smile spreading across her face. “We can work this out. We’ve been through worse.”

“No you haven't! Nobody has!” The man cackles. “God, you two are just so cute.” He tosses Elisa carelessly on the coffee table. “Let me see if I can't fix that.”

He walks back to his computer. Caitlyn hmphs, staring down at her girlfriend, the flattened photographer operating as more of a vessel of her craft than a practitioner. There’s a sting in my heart as I project Ashe and myself onto the younger couple, and I can’t help feeling a sad kinship with Elisa. Both the objects-as-lovers of two human women… It must be hard on our girlfriends. Maybe they do deserve to chum it up tonight. Spend some human-on-human time.

“Let’s see here…” The man squints at his laptop. From my angle, I can see the monitor, with whatever program he’s been obsessing over looking like an MS-DOS nightmare of plaintext and dozens of sliders and checkboxes. “Memory… group…” Muttering to himself, he hovers over an option and clicks his trackpad.

The world shifts and bends, growing fuzzy. A strange sense of unrealness seems to surround me as I’m assaulted by vertigo, like I’ve stood up too fast.

Thankfully, it only lasts for a moment before calmly dissipating.

The man smirks, watching as the group recovers. “Whaddya you folks think of Elisa now?" His gaze sweeps across the party, landing on Ashe and Caitlyn’s couch. Ashe looks confused, like the rest of us. “Elisa? Who's Elisa?”

“Are you talking about this dirty mag?” Adam speaks up, pointing at a flashy, buxom magazine on the coffee table. Ew, has that been there the whole time?

Ashe’s mouth drops. Dianna hides her face in her hands. “Good Christ. Tell me you didn't leave that thing just lying around, Adam.”

“Woah, waddya mean?” Adam raises his hands in indignation. “It's not mine! What, you see anything even mildly pervy, and you automatically assume–”

“–That is not mildly–”

“–assume that it’s mine, without even a fair trial or nothing, I–”

“My niece is here, Adam, for god’s sake!”

Crystal snorts and rolls her eyes, her only contribution to what is seemingly just another of her Aunt/roommate's daily arguments.

“It’s not mine. Swear to god.” Adam digs out a hitherto unseen silver cross from around his neck and raises a hand like he’s going under oath.

Well, if it's not Adam… Then it must be the other resident pervert. We all turn to Caitlyn, who’s red as a beet.

She takes a beat before sheepishly raising her hand. “Guilty,” she squeaks, her eyes lowering to the porno mag and settling on the thing’s massive chest. “My bad…! I brought it with me– I don't even know why, and it must’ve fallen out of my purse, and…” Caitlyn’s cheeks are flushed, but that tiny smile on her face suggests she’s not just embarrassed.

Guh. Classic Caitlyn. Ever since she moved into the neighbourhood, she’s been such a complete perv. Always making googly eyes at the girls on the block, commenting on our bodies, making inappropriate advances... Prowling. Her buying a porn mag– a gimmick porn mag, no less, with the 3D tits, is absolutely no surprise.

I don’t understand it because Caitlyn is hot. She dresses well, she takes care of herself, and yet she’s also enough of a degenerate that she'll bring smut to a party instead of a partner.

I shoot Ashe a concerned look, and she smiles awkwardly, like what have I gotten myself into. I still don’t understand why she’s not sitting next to me when the other side of my couch has been empty this whole time. It honestly kind of hurts. Does she just pity Caitlyn or something?

“Haha! I knew I liked you, girl,” Adam laughs heartily, leaning towards Caitlyn to offer her a high-five. She grins. Well, at least she’s found kinship in someone.

“Bought it for cheap at a gas station. It’s some good stuff,” she says, “just page after page of this dumb slut getting naked at like job interviews, and getting buttfucked at doctors' appointments and shit. That’s the trend nowadays, mixing the mundane with the sexy. Plus, whoever's shooting these is a freaking artist.”

Caitlyn opens the book to an admittedly well-shot double-spread of the cover girl draped sexily across the hood of a glossy, black SUV, sporting a gushing hose between her legs and washing the windshield with the help of a small dish sponge and two incredibly large, soapy tits. The caption: This one-woman car wash stays ‘abreast’ of the latest in car cleanliness!!!

“Classy,” Dianne mutters, giving Caitlyn and Adam the stink-eye.

“Y’know, this car kinda looks like mine,” Caitlyn says with a soft smile, staring down at the page. “And I just got it cleaned last week. That's so funny.”

“You mind if I borrow that thing for a while?” The man suddenly asks, strolling up. “You don’t have like, a special connection to it, do you?”

Caitlyn tilts her head. “Well, I am the one who bought it… but no, I don't, not really. Heck, it's yours if you want to keep it! I have plenty of these things at home, ehehe.” She grins and hands it to him.

“Ah, perfect then.” He curves the magazine inwards, twisting it into a tubelike configuration, the silicone cover-filling breasts squishing together on the inside and forming, with their tight cleavage, a sort of makeshift tit-job fleshlight. “You mind spitting into this thing real quick?” The perv she is, Caitlyn leans over and hocks a gob right in.

Gripping the magazine, he positions it above his dick and thrusts into it, the fleshy boob padding making a sick squelch as it lubricates with Caitlyn’s viscous spit and his own precum. Stroking his shaft with it, he starts going to town.

Plap, plap, plap. The party watches the display in polite silence.

The man hums idly as he jacks his cock into the magazine's tubular form. “Ah, that's nice.” The warped tit-light emits wet, plasticky, squeaky sounds, like somebody vigorously washing a glass. Aimed towards Caitlyn, the man is essentially jerking off in her face, droplets of mixed fluids jumping out of the magazine funnel and splattering against her brow.

Caitlyn grins skeevily. "Gawd, I wish I could do that... Always wondered what a titjob feels like, eheh. Boys have all the fun." She gazes longinly down at her crotch, just before a droplet jumps into her eye and she has to rub it out with the heel of her palm. Ashe shifts herself a little further down the couch.

“Yeah, it's cool. Could be even better.” He walks back over to his chair and sits down comfortably with his legs spread, still stroking away. “Maid! Lip service,”

Angel dutifully rises from her seat, rushing to his side.

“Of course, sir– but, um, your penis…” she watches him slide the magazine up and down. She looks almost hypnotized. “Seems to be busy, at the moment?”

“Balls ain’t,” he sniffs.

“Right away, master!” Angel puckers her scarlet lips and immediately sets to work under the table, tilting her head and approaching from below so that she doesn’t get struck by the man’s fist as he jacks himself off. Gathering his balls in her gloved hand, she sets her mouth on them, slurping them to the back of her throat as she worships them eagerly. Her soft cheeks hollow and bulge in rhythm, emitting obscene suckling noises. If I watch I can literally see the balls swirling around in her mouth, the Mediterranean maid adopting chipmunk cheeks as her lips conform around the stretched ball skin that bridges her mouth and his taint. She periodically mlems the balls out in order to circle around them with her tongue, licking them clean of her sticky saliva before quickly immersing them in it once again.

“Ahhhh… this is the life.” The man leans comfortably back into his chair, stroking away and clearly enjoying the dual sensations. “Heck, maybe this is good enough. Maybe I'm satisfied enough to let the rest of you guys go, huh?”

He leers smugly at the party. Nobody says anything. The only sound in the room is the combination of Angel's sloppy tonguing and the squishy magazine titlight being rhythmically put through its paces. I try not to think about Ashe by idly tweaking my nipples, ensuring the tips are clear of any blockages, to maximize performance.

“I’m just kidding. Obviously.” He thrusts a finger at Crystal. “Goth girl. You’re up next!”