Normal Life under the Warren Regime

A few months later...

Jessica Smith of Chicago, Illinois, was imagining Warren thrusting his massive cock into her over and over and over and over. Finally, she tweaked the silver stud through her clit just right, and she came. She licked the juices off her hand -- good, but of course, not as good as male cum. She sighed, feeling a little guilty that she'd had to masturbate, but she hadn't had a good fuck since she left the house, hours ago, and all the other people in the vicinity were otherwise occupied.

She stood up and flushed the toilet. She didn't have any panties to pull up, this being Casual Friday, so she merely stepped over to the sink to wash her hands. No partitions around the toilets here in the cunts' room, of course, since they had no right to privacy.

She couldn't help but admire herself in the mirror. She was so happy she'd run into Kevin Phillips right after Warren had taken over. She was grateful that he'd forgiven her for humiliating him and his geeky girlfriend Elizabeth that day in the high school cafeteria. He was such a good Master to her! Thanks to the magic transformation Master Kevin had ordered, she now looked much better than she had as a cheerleader. Her hair was now a natural platinum blonde, she had no tan lines, and she didn't need to worry about makeup anymore -- it was a natural part of her face. She blew herself a kiss with her glossy red cocksucking lips to emphasize that point.

And of course, there were her tits, now roughly the size of basketballs, stuffed into the red vinyl minidress she was currently wearing. She gave thanks to Warren for establishing the minimum boob size, and to Master Kevin for going above and beyond. They were so sensitive, and just the way Master Kevin looked at them made her a little wet. When he put his dick into her cleavage, or even just grabbed one of her nipple rings...

Jessica took a deep breath. Only a few more hours until she'd be back home with Master Kevin, and if she needed a fuck before then, it was all right. Men could see from the symbols on her collar that they were allowed to fuck her if they wanted, although they couldn't use magic on her without her Master's permission. That was only fair, since Master Kevin also had Lizzie at home for when he felt like fucking a different cunt. Her body was almost identical to Jessica's, right down to the basketball-sized tits, but Lizzie was Asian and had jet-black hair that reached down to her ankles. Before Warren had taken over, Lizzie had been Master Kevin's wif-- wi-- wi-- hmm, the word had escaped Jessica's brain. It wasn't important anyway -- nothing from before Warren's reign was, really.

She walked through the doorway out of the cunts' room, the hinges showing where there used to be a door, and out into the Starbucks. It was the usual scene -- men typing on their laptops and drinking lattes while their cunt, or perhaps someone else's cunt, gave them blowjobs beneath the table. At one table, a laptop lay half-open as a nude cunt on a man's lap ground into him as he grabbed onto her tits.

The scene made Jessica start to get horny again as she walked behind the counter and put on the small green apron that represented her employee uniform. Starbucks was one of the most popular places for public fuckings, not just because they were so widespread, but because every location was equipped with a magic transformation booth. Once Warren had realized that there weren't enough plastic surgeons in the world to give a boob job to every cunt with less than a G cup, he'd come up with the idea of phone booth-style chambers that could magically transform cunts, as directed by a man operating them -- and he placed one in every Starbucks and McDonald's worldwide.

That was why Jessica's friend Kellie had been a petite redhead when she arrived at work, but now she was standing behind the counter as a very dark-skinned African-American cunt, 6'6" tall, hair in cornrows that reached down to her ankles. The symbols on her collar indicated that it was fine with her Master if other men transformed her physically, and, in fact, Kellie said that her Master really loved seeing what his cunt would look like when she came home.

"Ahem," said a voice in front of her. Jessica looked up to see a man attempting to pay for the coffee he held in his hand. "Uh, 3 dollars," she said.

"Yes, I know," said the man, thrusting a $5 bill into her hand, the naked picture of the resurrected and enhanced Marilyn Monroe smiling from it. As she did with all cash, Jessica turned it over to the front and the portrait of Warren before she put it in the register. She handed the man two $1 bills, with Queen Cunt Buffy Summers in revealing bondage gear on the back. The man snatched them away and walked off with his coffee, mumbling something about how he would have been fine with a little less sex if women hadn't all been turned into such stupid bimbos.

Wih-min. Wihhh-min. Jessica finally decided the guy was a big snob, using a fancy foreign word she didn't recognize, and with an attitude like that, he wasn't interested in fucking her, so why was she worrying about him anyway?

She looked over at the clock. She wouldn't get her next break until the little hand was on the 6 and the big hand was, like, halfway between the 1 and the 2. Or was it the other way around? Well, Bob, the manager, would tell her when it was time for her break, if he wasn't too busy fucking Kellie.