Cock Worship

"Start worshipping," you say, and Tiffany doesn't hesitate.

Her emerald eyes flutter closed as she leans forward, those glossy nude lips parting to place a reverent kiss on the head of your cock. Her tongue follows, swirling slowly around the tip, and she moans at the taste.

"Fuck, I missed this," she whispers against your shaft, kissing down the length of it. "I've been thinking about it every day since the party."

Your phone screen pulses one final time:

Consciousness Integration: 5.1% → 0.8%

Transformation Status: 99.2% complete

Jessie settles onto the bed beside where you're standing, her eyes bright with excitement as she watches Tiffany worship your cock. "You were so **** at the party, Tiff. You kept saying you'd do anything to taste him."

"Anything," Tiffany agrees breathlessly, dragging her tongue up your shaft before taking the head into her warm mouth. She sucks gently, her cheeks hollowing, those impossible green eyes opening to look up at you with complete devotion.

"And you begged Jessie to share," Jessie continues, leaning back on her hands. "You said you understood that Marcus was mine, but that you'd be so grateful if I let you have just a taste. That you'd be a good brown slut for both of us."

Tiffany pulls off your cock with a wet pop. "I did beg. I remember begging. Jessie, thank you for sharing him with me. Thank you for letting me—" She cuts herself off to take you deeper, her plump lips stretched obscenely around your thickness.

"She got on her knees just like this," Jessie says, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "And she told us about her sugar daddy. About how he'd taught her to worship cock properly. How she'd practiced on him for months until she was perfect at it."

Tiffany moans around your shaft, the vibration sending pleasure through you. She pulls back to gasp, "He taught me everything. My daddy made sure I knew how to please men. That's why I'm so good at this."

Her cinched waist and massive hips create an obscene silhouette as she kneels before you. The hot pink bra still strains against her H-cup breasts. Her makeup remains flawless despite her efforts, and those emerald eyes shine with nothing but empty lust and manufactured memories.

"Keep going, Tiff," you tell her. "Show me what your daddy taught you."

She whimpers and takes you deeper, her throat opening to accept you, and there's nothing left of Tom Richardson in those green eyes. Only Tiffany remains—perfect, brown, devoted, and completely erased.

"Jessie," you say, your voice thick with arousal as Tiffany continues working your cock with devoted attention. "Show Tiffany how we shared at the party. Get down here with her."

Jessie slides off the bed immediately, her red dress riding up as she drops to her knees beside Tiffany. "God, I remember this part," she breathes, pressing close to the transformed woman. "We took turns, didn't we, Tiff?"

Tiffany pulls off your cock, those emerald eyes glazed with lust and manufactured memory. "Yes. Oh fuck, yes. You let me have a turn and then we... we both..." Her voice trails off as the false memory solidifies.

"We both worshipped him together," Jessie finishes, leaning in to drag her tongue up the opposite side of your shaft. "Like good sluts. You kept saying you'd never shared a cock before."

Your phone screen pulses one final time:

Consciousness Integration: 0.8% → 0.0%

Transformation Status: COMPLETE

Memory Integration: Full artificial personality matrix loaded

"Never shared before," Tiffany echoes, and now there's nothing left in those green eyes but empty devotion. She leans in to mirror Jessie's actions, both women's tongues working your cock in tandem. "But I wanted to learn. You were teaching me, Jessie. Teaching me how to please him properly."

Jessie moans her agreement, taking the head of your cock into her mouth while Tiffany focuses on your shaft, kissing and licking with worshipful attention. They work in practiced synchronization despite this being the first time they've actually done this together—the false memories guide their movements.

"You were so eager," Jessie says when she releases you, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "You kept thanking me for letting you join. Calling yourself our brown slut."

"Your brown slut," Tiffany confirms breathlessly, taking you deep into her throat. Her cinched waist and massive hips create an obscene silhouette as she kneels. The H-cup breasts strain against the hot pink bra. When she pulls back, gasping, she continues: "Both of you. I belong to both of you now. My daddy would be so proud that I found a white man to worship."

They alternate taking you deep, their hands roaming each other's bodies as they work. Jessie cups one of Tiffany's enormous breasts, and Tiffany whimpers at the contact.

"She's perfect now," Jessie murmurs to you, her eyes bright. "Completely empty. Completely ours. Just like I am."

Tiffany nods frantically between licks. "Empty. Yours. Please use us. Please let us show you how good we can be together."

You pull your cock back slightly, both women's mouths following the movement hungrily. "I want you to take turns," you say, pulling out your phone with your free hand. "Tell me your favorite memories from the party. The ones that made you wettest."

Jessie goes first, her platinum blonde hair falling forward as she leans in to plant a kiss on your shaft. "My favorite was watching Tiffany see your cock for the first time. The way her eyes went so wide, and she actually gasped. She looked at me and said 'Jessie, you weren't exaggerating.'" She takes you into her mouth briefly, sucking with practiced skill before releasing you.

Your phone screen shows the apartment layout, the reality distortion field still active. You swipe to the metrics panel—everything reads complete. Transformation progress: 100%. Consciousness integration: 0.0%. Memory matrix: Fully loaded. You scroll through the biometric data, watching their arousal levels spike as they continue.

Tiffany takes her turn, those emerald eyes locked on yours as she strokes your length with both hands. "Mine was when you told me I could finally taste it. I'd been begging for so long and Jessie kept teasing me, making me wait. When you finally said yes, I almost came right there." She demonstrates, taking you deep into her throat, her makeup somehow remaining flawless despite the effort.

You check the reality field status—stable. The apartment building floor plan shows other units, other potential targets. Your finger hovers over the resident directory. So many names. So many possibilities.

Jessie pushes Tiffany aside gently, her turn again. "I loved watching you two kiss. You remember that, baby? I told Tiffany to kiss you and she was so nervous. She'd never kissed a white guy before. But then she did and she just melted."

"I did melt," Tiffany confirms breathlessly, kissing down your shaft while Jessie works the head. "You tasted so good. I wanted to kiss you forever."

You swipe through more data on your phone—Candy has logged everything. Every technique, every phrase, every moment of the transformation. The data is categorized, indexed, ready for replication. A notification bubble appears: "Ready for next subject selection?"

Tiffany speaks again, her voice dreamy. "My other favorite was after. When we were all on your bed and you were inside Jessie and I got to watch. You let me touch myself while I watched you fuck her. That's when I knew I belonged to both of you."

You prop your phone against the nightstand, angling it to capture both women as they continue their worship. The red recording dot pulses in the corner of the screen.

"Keep going," you command, stroking yourself as they lean in together. "Tell me more. I want it all on camera."

Tiffany's emerald eyes gleam with manufactured devotion. "At the party, you made me beg in Hindi first. You said it would sound prettier. I didn't know any Hindi before but somehow the words just came to me—'kripaya mujhe choomne do.' Please let me taste." Her accent is flawless, the false memory so complete she's invented linguistic knowledge that never existed.

Jessie cups Tiffany's massive breast through the pink lace, making the other woman gasp. "And I translated for you, remember baby? I told you she was begging so sweetly. You made her say it three more times before you let her have what she wanted."

"I would have said it a hundred times," Tiffany breathes, her tongue tracing your length. "A thousand. Anything to serve you both."

They work in tandem, mouths and hands coordinating as if they've done this countless times. Jessie takes you deep while Tiffany licks and kisses whatever skin remains exposed. When they switch, Tiffany's throat contracts around you while Jessie whispers filth.

"You're so close," Jessie purrs. "I can feel it. Give it to us, baby. Mark your sluts."

Tiffany pulls back, both women pressing their faces together, mouths open, tongues extended. "Please," Tiffany whimpers. "Cover us. Show us we belong to you."

The sight pushes you over the edge. You grip yourself and release, thick ropes of cum painting across both their faces. Jessie moans as it hits her cheek and lips. Tiffany's emerald eyes flutter closed as you mark her transformed features, streaks of white across that perfect brown skin.

They don't pull away. Instead they turn toward each other and kiss, sharing your cum between them, tongues sliding together obscenely. When they part, both faces are glazed and glistening.

You grab your phone, stopping the recording. The file saves automatically—8 minutes, 47 seconds. You open the app interface.

Candy's avatar appears immediately, her usual pink interface somehow brighter. "Omigosh! That was like, SO hot! You're getting really good at the whole reality-sculpting thing!"

A metrics dashboard loads beneath her cartoon face:

TRANSFORMATION LOG:

Tiffany (formerly Tom Richardson, 46M → 23F): COMPLETE

Consciousness Integration: 0.0%

Memory Matrix: Fully Loaded

Reality Field: Active (Family unit rewritten)

Collaboration Efficiency: 94.7%

DATA ARCHIVED:

Racialized narrative frameworks

Collaborative manipulation protocols

Sugar daddy memory structures

Cross-victim coordination techniques

"So like, what's next?" Candy asks, her text appearing in bubbly pink letters. "Want to review the footage together? Or maybe... try something new? I've got some ideas that might be fun! "

(Author's Note: I wish I had better images for this scene, but I am still pretty new to this stuff, so you all will have to bear with me.)