You manage to keep your lover sated

You're rather proud of yourself. With Trish's libido brought under control thanks to some magic you mange to keep pace with her. You're not entirely sure how you do it, but for the next week, then the week after that you find you're able to sate Trish's fantastic cock more and more. In fact, by about the third week of your relationship it's Trish who's often begging you for a break and a chance to recharge. You even start to get a kick out of waking her up with blowjobs.

By then you're loving your new looks, your new status as a girlfriend and all the perks that come with it - at least when your 'guy' is as talented as Trish. You have no idea how she did it but you wind up with a fake ID that says you're a year younger than you really are - aw, isn't she sweet? What girl wouldn't like a year shaved off her age?

You're also getting admissions letters from St. Catherine's. Looks like your 'grandmother' signed you up for a fun filled Catholic education after you moved here. You even have a transcript with some reasonable grades and, as Trish has pointed out, having already completed your last year of high school you should be able to ace it this time, giving you a big boost for scholarships and so on.

You started to do little feminine things on your own too. Sneaking out with some cash and shopping without Trish, just so you can surprise her with a favorite snack or a new and revealing top. God that girl loves your breasts even more than you do.

In fact, in all the excitement you nearly forgot the phone call that set you on this path. But one night, almost a month after meeting Trish, you get a call from that familiar voice. "Okay sport. Time to pay the piper!" She tells you to go to a particular address and even gives you helpful directions to get there by bus. All you need to do to distract Trish is suck her off. With what you did earlier today that leaves her on the bed, nearly passed out.

You feel bad for lying to her, even by omission, but you've continued to worry about her going after those St. Catherine's girls or Gwen. You've fucked her so frequently she hasn't mentioned them in a while, but there again your belly hasn't started to grow or slow you down yet. You think about wearing that occult looking collar Trish got for you. It has a little pentagram on it and Trish loves the way it looks on you, but not tonight. You don't want to give that bitch any ideas, like taking it away. For the same reason you dress down - nothing valuable in your purse either. And definitely not your hard won driver's licence. The little bottle of pepper spray? The little collapsible baton Trish got you? Oh fuck yes those are coming.

The bus ride gives you time to think about what you're doing. But what other choice do you have now? Who knows what kind of a rage that bitch on the phone would go into if you cheated her after a whole month? She would probably take it out on Trish too, knowing that hurting her would hurt you more than anything she could do to you. Intensely worried you step off the bus and find yourself in an area that's far less seedy than you feared. It's not the Ritz, but at least the streets are well lit. You go to the address listed on the text she sent you. An unassuming looking building, mostly low range retail stuff. But the address is 430B and all the stores are 432, 434, and so on. Finally you spot the stairs leading down. The store has a barred glass door that's been covered over with shiny black plastic. The small sign reads "Toys for All", the line beneath reads "(Over 18)" in a bigger, bolder font. Almost like that poorly chosen name had caused problems in the past.

Your phone startles you and you fumble to get it out of your purse. "Good girl, all set for tonight?" the woman on the other end asks gleefully. Before you can reply she continues. "So here's what you're going to do. After I hang up you walk inside and tell the guy you've heard about his offer online. You're interested in doing the Dragonette mold and figure."

"The what?!?"

"It's just a mold of your pussy. Henry, the guy in there, he comes up with all sorts of fantastic fucktoy names. I decided that since you've turned into such a sex freak you might as well share that cum sucker of yours with all the weirdest pervs this city has to offer. Just seems appropriate to me that all those losers should enjoy the shape of your darling puss. Oh, he'll want some headshots too, so the artist can base the Dragonette's face off yours. The pervs'll love that!"

You shudder involuntarily. As a guy you probably wouldn't have cared if girls got off on a mold of your cock and some kind of a picture of your face, but this feels degrading. Whatever else she has planned this is a nasty punishment all on its own.

After some cruel laughter she continues, "So anyway he'll bargain but you stick to the price he posted. Three hundred bucks won't hurt, will it? Hell, you can say I helped you buy that first car seat or stroller or something. Maybe even volunteer for some extra work if you want the spending money. I mean if you're making a plastic whore copy of yourself you might as well go all the way! Now, the important bit. He's going to say he'll need some time to set it up. You ask if you can get a bottle of Eolasine salve to clean up with."

"Again, what?"

"All sorts of funny names, remember? So you take that and rub it into your well used pussy to clean it up. After that you do what Henry asks, get a few pics taken, whatever. Oh, and do ask for a glass of Eclatane juice once you're being molded. Homemade stuff. You'll love it, it's light and fruity - just like you are now. After you're done I'll contact you for the rest of the night's plans." And with that she hangs up.