Evaluate her outfits

“I didn’t get the job,” Clara told them. She said it without affect, which made it that much worse. A numb disappointment. “They– I knew it right away. They had those dead eyes, you know? They could barely get their mouths to move.”

“Bastards,” Cary said, indignant. They were outside, at his insistence. It felt to him like prolonged exposure to Cary fumes was a bit much. Girls needed a break from it. Otherwise after about three-four hours they tended to sit in place, drunk on his scent, and as horny as it was possible for their bodies to be. They drooled more then was probably healthy.

Evelyn was clearly somewhat– different– after a delirious night getting her snatch stuffed. The good news was, she’d found a lot of personal self-confidence. The bad news was, she didn’t seem interested in much besides getting Cary’s prick back inside of her. She kept trying to sit on his lap, and she kept texting him pictures of her twat. He’d told her to go take a cold shower, so now he was getting photos of naked, wet Evelyn.

“Is it the—?” Cary and Clara had collaborated closely on the interview outfit. Cary was proud of it. It wasn’t just tits and ass – although it wasn’t shy about Clara’s chest. Nonetheless they were business-friendly in a pearl blouse. The jacket was dark black and sedate. The real key was a velvet purple skirt that was both warm and daring.

“No! The outfit was perfect! I was so— but the questions came so fast and I just—”

Cary grunted. It was becoming apparent that prolonged contact with his body wasn’t all that great for the girl’s higher cognition. He’d told Evelyn to go do some math problems, just to check. “Stupid decision on their part,” he told Clara.

She indicated with her eyes that she’d like to sit on his lap.

“I told you. Too dangerous.” He’d gone ahead and purchased an N95 for the girls in the office. Or just Jane – Evelyn was thoroughly fucked and didn’t seem like respiratory protection would help much. Clara had decided it was too hard to pair with her outfits. Jane had listened to his explanation in silence, and then slowly strapped on the mask, staring at him the entire time.

“Then can I—?”

“Of course!” Outfits was Clara’s favorite game, and she’d gotten really good at it. She’d told Cary that she was watching makeup guides, something like three to four hours per night. She’d also unlocked several achievements on her Shein account. Clara instantly cheered up. Cary watched her butt wiggle as she walked away.

He’d done more research into his condition. But now that he was in the world of myth and sorcery it didn’t seem like there was much useful. If it was that. Dr. Beshy was leaving increasingly breathless voicemails about getting him back in the clinic.

He really did need someone to talk to, soon. Just as he’d gotten used to the daily feel and routine of being a big dicked man, and made the adjustments to his self-image, he now had to worry about his rapid acquisition of a harem of fuckable submissive girls.

He’d never thought of himself as the kind of guy to build an extensive gallery of eager sluts. Each one a different but fascinating pussy, **** to grind against his dick. But already he had two, two and a half if he was being honest about Clara. She didn’t even make eye contact with him unless totally necessary. Mostly she kept an eye on his dick. He hadn’t put that final imprint on her tits, but already, looking at her, his dick said: one of ours.

Cary wasn’t sure how much he could fight his cock on it. He’d thought that maybe having sex a whole bunch would be enough. He’d gotten Maria and Evelyn in a bedroom and spent the night reducing them to tired, happy moans. At six in the morning, licking together, Maria and Evelyn had triggered his – he wasn’t sure what number orgasm it was. One of an enormous amount. His cock was as stiff as ever and generously spunked both girls up with big cum volume. Then he’d walked out front, seen a girl jogging by, and thought: nice butt. Want to fuck that butt. It was concerning.

“What do you think?” Clara purred. For the past several days she’d been trying, with less and less subtlety, to get him to fuck her. Her theory was that she just had to find the right outfit. This one was obviously “horny MILF” and had nothing to do with Cary’s actual interests. Still she’d done a great job. High-waisted tights with a furred tiger print around the waist, white sneakers, a tied off halter-top that she’d thrifted somewhere. It looked like an altered shirt from a Backstreet Boys tour in 2002. Her cheeks looked heavy, almost leaden, with makeup. “Hot?”

“Hot as hell, Clara,” what he said didn’t really matter. His dick, bobbing up and down in front of him, was the actual audience. It never lied. Clara shuddered, happy again. He didn’t resist as she got on top of him, rubbed her pussy against the sizable outline of his dick.

He had managed to solve the dick-in-pants problem. GAP made a pair of men’s joggers that, apparently by accident, had enormous crotch room. Coupled with absorbent fabric it was the perfect pair of pants for the large-cocked man. He’d purchased a half-dozen.

“Clara, I told you, you need to get a job.” Evelyn showed no interest in it. Cary had done a lot of thinking on this, as well. Harems cost money and they were all unemployed. Well, Maria had a job, but it was unclear after a night of getting her pussy pounded if she could or would read. But there were cost savings from having all the girls in one bed, or scattered around the floor. “Off.”

She bolted off. “One more! Just one more!”

He’d spoken with both Maria and Evelyn about their experience of being enslaved to his cock. They’d both assured him that it was really great, and that they weren’t just saying that to get more dick. Although they’d like more dick. Did they feel like – the same person? The Evelyn and Maria he knew weren’t devoted cock sluts, dedicating their lives to servicing his prong without any hesitation. Not only had they both jumped into his bed, right away, they’d energetically scissored within a few hours of meeting each other. Clearly they were different. But then, so was he.

“It’s like…” Evelyn had trailed off. Her lips seemed plumper, her tits a little heavier. “...a dream.”

“Oh, yeah,” Maria agreed. They laid on each other, entangled in sweaty limbs. “That’s a perfect way to put it. Deep, deep dream.”

“I’m gonna wake up at some point and be Evelyn. Like I know she’s there, somewhere,” Evelyn waved a vague hand around. “I’m not this cum-guzzling slut who sexually services a nineteen year old. That’s nuts.”

“It’s crazy. And especially with Cary,” Maria agreed. She still had on tattered bits and pieces from her workaday librarian outfit. Her socks, her striped blue underpants. “I read books and stuff. I only, like, lie around waiting for dick in a dream.”

“Pretty sure it’s real life,” Cary told them. He thought about it. “Pretty sure.”

It was a nice thought, that he was a butterfly who got to have sex with hot women all day.

As usual Cary tried to stay positive about the situation. He had an enormous, possibly magical/demonic dick. Every girl who encountered it, or did some incautious breathing in his vicinity, became overwhelmingly craven for his penis. So the endless need to breed took care of itself. The girls themselves seemed – vacuous, single-minded, but happy. The remaining problems were fiscal and a guy with a big dick and a good attitude could solve that, so long as he didn’t keep adding and adding to a household of cooze.

He could do this. He just had to stay optimistic.

“Cary, what do you think?”

She’d put her hair back in pigtails. Cary wasn’t sure how that was possible – she’d only been gone momentarily. Clara had also changed into a hot pink miniskirt that, even fully extended, didn’t cover her pussy. It was a brief strip of fabric with some frills. She wore a kind of scooped tanktop that existed to shape her tits, in black. It had ‘COCK SLUT’ embroidered on the front in bedazzle gold. Clara had also gone with big hoop earrings and bone-white makeup.

The heels were the key to the outfit. Knee-high fuck-me boots, also in hot pink. They seemed to be vinyl with a five-inch heel. It was almost certainly an illegal outfit to wear, at least in daylight, and outdoors. Her snatch had been trimmed and then waxed.

“Pretty good?” Clara said. She had an actual degree in accounting. A – was it a week ago? How long had it been? — she had been a friendly co-worker. She owned a cat. She had a hiking trip planned in March with some friends from college – all the way across Oregon.

“Yeah, pretty good,” Cary said. He stood up. “We’ll have to…” there was no obvious place to fuck. They were outdoors, next to a bunch of office buildings. They wouldn’t fit in his car. His dick told him: hurry. “Bathroom. There’s a bathroom right inside the building.” If he fucked her against the door, no one would be able to open it. “We’ll fuck there.”

“Really?” Clara looked so overjoyed. She rubbed her thighs together in anticipation. “Oh my god, Cary, this is like—”

“Yeah, I know,” Cary said. He put a hand on her bare ass. “Lets hurry.” So that made three.