Suck it down.

Looking down at that glorious cock and her sexy feminine body you simply can't resist the temptation to taste her cum. You are able to resist just the slightest bit as you drop down to your knees, grabbing hold of her magnificent cock with your hands and pulling her ass up so you can slip your own cute 6” cock into her hole. No sooner does your head slip in than the pull of her warm asshole seems to suck you in to the hilt. Buried inside of her you then take her cock in turn into your mouth, bending your body down as much as you are able to get as much of her massive member into you. Your head slips back and as she finally blows her seed, the spray first hits the back of your throat, then fills your mouth, squirting out of your nose and around her cock out of your mouth. The volume is impossible, and as you gulp down the first mouthful it is as if you are drinking from a hose. While you can't exactly savor the taste there is something there an almost mystical feeling as you gulp down the flow. Running your hands up and down her shaft you milk out every drop, till finally the tide stems and you dip down, not really noticing your own flaccid cock leaking it's fluid onto the bed, and take her entire length down into your distended gut. The head of her cock laps into the liquid that tries to squirt back up your esophagus and plugs it, not allowing anything more to escape. Wrapping your arms around her torso you pull her in as tight as you can, not wanting to relinquish your prize.]

Suddenly her cock is gone, she is gone, and you find yourself as you were bent over just so, on the stool as if you had never left. “No way that was a fucking dream!” You yell out bolting upright. The sudden motion causes you to fall on the floor and land on your ass. “Ouch.” You say rubbing your butt, and it dawns on you. “Wait my ass isn't that... oh god my voice... so it was...” Looking in the tall mirror that has been there the entire time you see exactly what has become of you.

Looking your sexy body over you can only guess that you are right about 5' 2” tall and very petite, under 90 lbs you are sure. Your breasts are perky but small, A cups, with slightly surprisingly long nipples, a half inch or more sticking out on your chest. Your cock is still there, and a slender cute 4” cock with a little hairless sack, but tugging on it a bit you are pretty sure it will rise to a respectable size if you give it some attention. Your ass is perky and cute, and you have long sexy legs for your size. Looking close you see you have rather pale skin with lots of cute freckles, deep green eyes and a short mop of wild red hair. The makeup you put on is still flawless, and looks quite nice.

Turning your attention to your surroundings you are still in the room the guy put you in, but everything seems a bit off. There are faint char marks that are all that remain of the ritual as if it took place a while ago, rather than the hour that you were gone. Also gone is all of the clothing that he had brought in for you to try on. Suddenly something strikes your attention, the lights in the room are off, there are no windows, the door is closed, yet you can see just fine. “How odd.” You say quietly and pad over to the door on your sexy new little feet. Pulling it open you are shocked to see there is only a few discarded boxes in the hall. Making your way through the building you see the shop has apparently gone out of business and is now basically empty with the front door and windows covered in plywood. “What the hell? How long was I gone?” Suddenly aware of your nudity you decide to start checking boxes to see if you can find something to wear.

It takes a while but you eventually find a few things that fit for the most part. The first is easy a little package that says one size fits all, inside is a tiny stretchy black net g string and a pair of large diamond fishnet stockings cut to look like built in garter belt and straps. Feeling a little naughty as you do it, you put the stockings on first, then the panties, in case you have to take them off, you think smiling. The next takes a bit longer, sifting through a pile of rather nasty ripped clothes you finally discover a black and pink pleated schoolgirl style skirt that fits nicely, sitting low on your hips, and so short that if you move much at all you risk exposing yourself. Looking around you never do find a bra that fits but you are able to find a size xs black tank top that has a pair of pink lips on the front. You find several shoes, but sadly you don't find any pairs and not very many that even fit, so you don't bother, hoping your stockings will offer at least a little protection. Finally you give up and realize you had better go, but that said you don't know what you are going to do next. Pulling at the boards you soon give up and decide to explore to see if you can find another exit. Making your way around you go back into the store room once again and push past the junk and boxes when you make a rather startling discovery. A skeleton of a man clutching a .38 revolver in it's hand. It appears whoever this was he committed suicide as the back of the skull has blown out and there is no sign of anything else. Looking closer you also find a box of 20 bullets that has had 1 removed. Taking the gun, to sell if nothing else, you find a spent shell in the chamber as well. Checking the desk that he is sitting at you also find a couple more things that are very strange, a book of gibberish that you are somehow sure is a book of spells, with only 12 thick pages made of a leather like paper. A money clip with $49 as well as a drivers license that tells you that this was the man that owned the shop. “Wait so who took everything if he is back here dead? This is just so strange.” Then in the bottom drawer you find something else that stops your heart for an instant. Another drivers license, someone named Sam O'Neal, and it is you. Or the new you rather. The other very odd thing on it is that the date of birth is listed as October 31st the day you vanished, although 16 years earlier, as if he did that ritual on the 16th birthday of whoever this was in attempt to recreate someone he new. But then why kill himself, it worked, you mull over. Another thought hits you and you look over the desk for some mail and sure enough you find a letter with a postage date 3 years later. “Does this mean I was gone 3 years?” You ask the air.

To your surprise someone answers, “Yes, yes it does.”