She Tries To Stay Out of The Way

Rachel squirmed, she had tried to leave at one point, only to find herself held in place by arms reaching from the wall, haunting moans, gasps and cries terrified and excited her as the hands didn't just settle with holding her still.

They felt all over her body, play with her tits, fingering her pussy. Rachel even passively sucked on some fingers, half wondering why she was even daring to enjoy this. Her eyes looking about to find no one available to help or give a glance of wonder or concern, as every person she could see was either already engaged in a sexual act, if not moving to engage in one.

Rachel struggled to wonder how long she had been stuck here, her knees had wobbled out from beneath her a while ago, some arms holding her still to the wall.

As time passed assorted demons and willing participants filed by she found herself often causing them to pause. At first it creeped her out, being examined like some sort of self-aware art piece being watched the define, or redefine itself.

But as time went on and more of the people, creatures, entities paused to touch themselves, or each other Rachel found itself arousing. Increasingly she moaned out to the hell-bound denizens to liberate her too, only to have them eventually most on.

She wanted to be what they wanted.

She wanted to be what they desired.

Her skin grew paler and paler. Details slowly vanishing away from it as she developed a flawless complexion. Her breasts sat proudly, pert and erect, nipples beckoning to be targetted by arousal as they remained hard and erect, reaching out from her breasts at least an inch.

The colour faded from her lips and her eyes as she wanted more and more to be whatever any of these beings were looking for. Even the women. She wasn't even bi, but what she wouldn't do to feel the affection and touch of another being.

Then she saw them, a demon woman, skin pink as the dress she wore when Rachel met her.

No, last met her. Inherently Rachel felt shock and revulsion, quickly replaced by corrupt perverse arousal. It was her own grandmother.

She lead some man by the cock by the looks. His features strangely abstract and white.

“Oh there you are honey,” Bernadette remarked approaching her granddaughter. She shook her head and tsked tsked. “I see you've begun to lose yourself.”

Bernadette and her daughter always quarreled with Rachel over one thing. Rachel's penchant to define herself by whoever she was with, or wanted to be with. They had seen her change her fashions, her hair, even her attitude at times.

Until she met Terry. He was rather plain, and soon it became a game for Bernadette and her daughter to tease Rachel who she was wanting to date next whenever they noticed one of these changes.

“You know, your mother and I had our doubts about you two. But its becoming plain to see you two truly are made for one another.” Bernadette almost lovingly said brushing a hand across Rachel's cheek, providing a finger to be eagerly sucked on by the increasingly willing art piece being groped by the remnants of the very souls of those the Idol deemed unworthy to join its legions.

Bernadette chuckled as she watched her favorite shade of pink emerge on the now perfectly formed lips of her granddaughter.

Bernadette was feeling a perverse pleasure as she watched Rachel's breasts fill out and sag slightly, her skin shifting in tone to a perfect tan. Grinning Bernadette focused on wanting a fake titted bimbo, her granddaughter not disappointing as the breasts lifted unnaturally and adopted a more ballooned shape.

“Now show me the tatted slut you wanted to be for that biker,” Bernadette smirked, amused that her granddaughter was so far gone without relinquishing her soul. Unlike her boyfriend who remained himself more or less until the end.

Rachel's skin took on a goth-like paleness, her lips turned black as night as her hair took on a raven matte tone. Matching spiderweb tattoos emerged on her now more naturally hanging breasts. An Asiatic dragon tattoo weaving up one arm and down her shoulder, one claw appearing to heft her breasts.

Assorted other ink tapestried down her skin.

Bernadette grinned, she found a perverse new pleasure at the concept of someone losing themselves to the Idol. Clearly such was the case with her granddaughter, watching her made Bernadette grateful she was yet to turn Terry, a perverse pleasure stirring in her to see him become like some abstract mannequin, like Rachel. Eternally morphing to fulfill the desires of those they sought after.

Stepping forward Bernadette leaned in to whisper to Rachel. “Last chance to claim him.” Bernadette enticed adding her hands to those already groping Rachel. “All you need to do is give up your soul.”

With that Bernadette stepped away, pulling Terry along. “Lay down.” She commanded to the broken willed man. His arms reaching around to grab Bernadette's ass as she proceeded to sit atop his face.

Rachel felt jealousy surge through her, watching as her grandmother derived such perverse pleasure from Rachel's boyfriend, all while his raging erect strangely white dildo like cock seemed to grow and morph before her.

All you need to do, is rip free.