Home

Becky’s mother was out for work until six in the evening, so home was the first stop. The voice in her head didn’t understand.

“I’m not located at your house,” it said. “This is a waste of time.”

“So you are the book,” Becky whispered as she walked down her street.

Another jolt to her pussy confirmed this.

“That is exactly why I’m going first. God, I feel gross.”

Becky unlocked her front door and dashed upstairs to her bedroom, locking her door as she entered.

“Be quick,” the voice of the book whispered.

Becky ignored it. She immediately started to strip off her clothes, eyeing herself in the full-length mirror.

Becky’s pussy was sopping wet, with girl cum dripping onto the floor as she pulled down her ruined panties. It ached and begged to be touched.

Next Becky lifted her her blouse up, feeling her large breasts slip free. Instinctively, she caressed her left breast with her hand, tweaking her nipple.

Soon, the teen was entirely naked and falling into a sexual trance, exploring her delicious body once more.

“Oh God,” Becky whimpered. “Oh I need this.”

She rubbed her throbbing clit, feeling her juices cascade down her fingers. This fire, burning in Becky since her run in with the tentacles, seemed unquenchable.

Within less than a minute, Becky was moaning loudly, already feeling herself tumbling over the edge. She let out one final scream, feeling a powerful jet from her pussy.

“A lovely display,” the book whispered. “But there are places to be.”

It flashed several images through Becky’s mind. The inside of a living room with a cabinet filled with creepy porcelain dolls. A clock shaped and painted like a cookie. An emerald colored sofa.

“Luke’s house,” Becky whispered.

She stumbled over to her closet and pulled out a change of clothes. None of her bras fit her even remotely anymore, so Becky ignored them. Instead, she pulled out an old t-shirt from summer camp three years prior.

It was anywhere near as stylish as her leather get-up, but it was made of a soft, stretchy fabric that formed to her big new breasts comfortably. Becky slipped on the lime green shirt and looked herself over.

The once modest garment now stretched skin tight on her perfect rack, her full nipples poking through the fabric. The shirt now reached just above the girl’s belly button.

Nothing fits well anymore, Becky lamented.

She slipped into a pair of jeans that thankfully fit more reasonably than her t-shirt and gave herself a final once over.

Becky had to admit, she was hot. Really fucking hot, even if her reflection felt like a stranger.

“Are you ready?” The book asked.

“Yes, goddamnit. What do you even want with me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Great. Fucking perfect.”