The husband

With her thighs wrapped around your head you don’t hear the chime of the door. You do feel as she shifts up to her elbows. “Honey! I- uh. Don’t hurt him.” She sounded resigned. Of all the things to say don’t hurt him was a poor choice. Her legs released your head, and you got your first look at ‘honey’.

He was easily twenty stone. Where his wife was lithe, graceful and petite he was broad, muscular and hardened from long days spent toiling in the desert heat. His hands were covered in callouses with scars on the knuckles.

He rushes you. Bellowing out a roar of pure malice and outrage he moves to you, quick for some one of his size. He grabs at you with his oversized ham fists. On your knees it’s all you can do to roll out of the way. You leap to your feet and try to get past him. He swings wildly catching you in the back with his fist. You stumble but make it over to the small pile of I’ll gotten gains you brought in with you after your spree. Lifting your hands you trace patterns in the air while you mutter arcane syllables. You send a quick prayer below to your beloved Spider Queen, you’re only getting one shot at this.

The brute stops. His features shift and warp, his face softening, his ears lengthening and ending in a point, his hair becoming a brilliant shade of gold. His clothes dissolved into his new form, revealing his body as his waist narrows and his-her tits balloon. Her cock, once impressive begins to shrink into a positively teeny clit. Her legs thinning, her skin becoming pale and flawless, she is now unrecognizable from what she was just moments ago.

“What- what the fuck did you do to me!?!” Her voice was far from the deep bellowing roar you had heard a few minutes ago. The elf stood before you, looking down at her new form in horror. Of course you didn’t make her a dark elf, she wasn’t that lucky. “There. Now maybe we can talk like civilized people. If you want to be turned back you should listen very carefully.”

Her eyes dart up to you. You look past her to her loving wife still lying on the counter propped up on her elbows. You walk back over to her. “Tell me dear, did your… husband ever serve you with his mouth?” You ask. “N-no my lord.” You sigh. “Shameful. It’s a man’s duty to serve his wife. In my homeland the priestesses would have flayed the flesh from your bones if it was discovered that you were such a failure.”

You point at the floor. “Come. Kneel.” Hesitantly she steps forward, kneeling awkwardly in front of her wife.