Brief Interlude: Heather's Ordeal (Past Tense, 3rd Person Chapter)

Heather was laying on the bed, immobile and fuming. Her eyes were locked on the boring white ceiling directly above her, unable to even swivel no matter how hard she strained. The discomfort she should have felt from being in this weird position, with her arms bent unnaturally away from her body and her legs splayed out wider than should be comfortable, wasn't coming. Then again, Heather knew that her new proportions themselves should make her ache, if not straight-up kill her. She really was a doll now.

She felt the cool air blowing down from the fan, the warm sheets beneath her naked skin, but she couldn't interact with any of it, let alone scream or even talk. Hell, her blown-up lips were frozen in the shape of a fucking O!

The sound of Naomi humming in the kitchen constantly assaulted Heather's ears; the bitch was making some sort of god-forsaken snack for herself. Lord knows she never learned to cook.

Heather grimaced, her pain and pleasure spiking as the dildo lodged in her tight cunt **** her to approach yet another orgasm before Naomi's "No orgasms" rule brought her back down from the edge. Well, Heather would have grimaced if she didn't have to keep her face perfectly still, plastered in a perpetual come-hither look with a plasticky sheen. Even so, the repeated edging fucking hurt. And felt so, so good.

If only Naomi had given her half as much pleasure back in the day. Under different and more favorable circumstances, of course. Maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to find a better tongue. Maybe Naomi wouldn't be taking out her fucking petty vendetta out on her now.

Heather's pleasure plateaued once again, and her vision briefly dimmed. She couldn't' help but think about how she had even stayed Naomi's friend, after all that other shit. And this is how she gets repaid? Forever a fucking doll, controlled by an unforgiven and stupid as balls marionettist.

It wasn't right. Wasn't fair!

BANG! A strangled yelp replaced Naomi's humming. Then a loud moan seemed to reach Heather in the bedroom.

The panic in Heather's chest rose for a moment, but it quickly settled down. The initial sound seemed metallic, like a pot or some shit. Naomi was just being her usual self: a clumsy oaf. The moan, though... Heather wasn't sure what to make of it. It sounded... sensual. But why? That didn't make any sense.

Suddenly, Heather burst through the door. Despite being unable to so much as shift her gaze to look at the girl, Heather could tell something was up because of the way she was panting. And the way the door slammed into the wall. Despite her brusque tomboy persona, breaking shit just for the sake of it wasn't Naomi's style. Nor was beating people down who didn't deserve it. The pussy.

With a growl, Naomi pounced on the bed, her hands immediately grasping and then kneading Heather's gigantic tits. Again she moaned, but this time Heather was eye to eye with Naomi's face as it contorted in an expression of overloaded bliss. Naomi muffled a scream by diving into Heather's generous cleavage and squishing her firm breasts against her head, frantically humping Heather over the vibrating dildo with her wet, hot snatch all the while.

"FUCK! What the hell!" Naomi latched onto Heather's pink nipple, moaning desperately through a clenched neck while she came to a squirting orgasm in her jeans. Heather could feel the drenched material against her crotch, thighs, and lower abdomen as Heather manhandled her body, but all she could do was stare at the ceiling and get more and more aroused.

The buzz of the dildo blended in with Naomi's moans, with the sounds of her increasingly frantic actions that she took in her need to fuck and get off. Her lips met Heather's in a kiss and her whole soft body squirmed on top of the doll, but Heather's mouth remained stuck in its natural O shape.

Naomi's nipples caught on Heather's skin. She felt them against her chest, more erect and stiff than she had ever imagined nipples could be. With a hiss, Naomi pulled back from the kiss, flinching, and said, "Fuck! Too much!"

Heather could only feel confused. Confused and aroused. Too much of what?

As Heather turned that over in her head, she felt herself painfully and gloriously edged for the umpteenth time. Naomi's nipples pulsed before her eyes, turning red as if sucked as hard as they could be sucked for minutes on end. Before Heather could fully register that, Naomi said, "Stay quiet and only move to do what I tell you to do. Animate."

It was weird. Heather felt herself come alive, felt her ability to move restored, and yet knew that she couldn't even twitch a muscle. If she even still had those. She wouldn't be able to: not until Naomi gave her permission, like she so desperately craved.

She just needed to feel like she could move again. To feel human.

Naomi scrambled to the pillow side of the bed, laid back against them with her legs spread, and said, "Give me oral as well as you fucking can."

Without a word, Heather dove at Naomi's snatch, her mind full of a combination of revulsion, horror, and lust. She knew she was supposed to be on the receiving end of oral attentions. She wasn't the one who was should be giving this: her sub was! Never, EVER her.

Yet here she was. A doll. **** to obey Mistress Naomi.

It made her pussy hotter and her fear more palpable, which just made her pussy hotter. An endless cycle of self-hatred and lust and fear.

She wanted to thrust her hips into her hand or the bed. Desperately. Or to run away and clothe herself as soon as she got her needs met. But all she could do was suck and lick Naomi's pussy, the rest of her body only moving insofar as it absolutely had to in order to ensure she was being the best pussy licker she could be.

The dildo continued to hum, adding to her pleasure as she lapped at Naomi's clit. Above her, Naomi arched her back and cupped her tits, murmuring, "Fuck yes, mmm... suck 'em!" Her hands brushed against her erect, literally throbbing nipples, but even just that light touch made her gasp due to overstimulation.

Another orgasm almost came for Heather as she took Naomi's clit into her mouth and gently sucked. Heather felt her mind tell her hips to thrust her wet pussy into the bed on reaction to the bubbling heat, but her body stayed motionless, held back from its natural impulses in more ways than she could name.

Her tongue continued its ministrations, Naomi's hand finding Heather's hair to push her head deeper into the pussy. Heather was just thankful that she no longer needed to breath, though the lack of breath felt weird and off-putting. The comfort that she felt physically as Naomi **** her deeper into her cunt was ultimately causing her more mental discomfort than it was worth; it was just another reminder of what she had lost, of what she now was until she was changed back.

If that ever happened.

Thick thighs crossed around the back of Heather's head, pulling her face tightly against the dripping, twitching snatch she couldn't help but pleasure. Her tongue worked furiously, circling Naomi's clit even as the woman pushed her crotch into Heather's face over and over again. Naomi screamed, her hands grasping the bedsheets below, and came yet again. With each spasm of her sopping, throbbing, painfully sensitive pussy, she squirted onto the smooth contours of Heather's immobile face.

Finally, Naomi fell back onto the bed, the tension leaving her body in a state of relaxed and tired bliss. After several orgasms, she found herself feeling more drained than she had felt in ages. That feeling, combined with the warmth of the room, led her to close her eyes for a second.

Heather continued to work on Naomi's pussy, unable to stop until she was told to. The dildo continued to vibrate against her pussy, taunting her with its painful pleasure. A whimper pushed its way to her lips before dying, the sound unheard and unmade. Shit, was Naomi just going to leave her like this? Perpetually on the edge, pleasuring her former subordinate?

Her head bobbed as her body lay on the bed facedown and completely inert, arms at her sides and legs splayed in their naturally wide position. After what felt like ages, but was probably less than a minute, Naomi groaned in some sort of overloaded anguish, then tiredly batted Heather's head and muttered, "Stop it. Take that out. Cuddles, please."

As her tongue stopped its work, her hand pulled out the dildo with a loud, wet squick, then turned it off and dropped the sopping device over the side of the bed. Fucking finally. Wait, cuddles?

Despite trying desperately to stop herself, Heather robotically lifted herself to all fours, never pausing once. Her face left the slick, gooey puddle on the sheets beneath Naomi's pussy, the juices sticking to her face but not absorbing or falling off. She found herself crawling, her large tits swinging beneath her as if they were real.

Her whole body was like that. It looked fake, but she could tell it felt genuine and moved realistically. It was fucking disgusting. The way that Naomi's gaze fixated on her jiggling, crawling form told her that Naomi wasn't of the same mind, however. Which was unfortunate, since it seemed like Naomi might hold sway over that asshole with his questions and his powers.

Holy shit, those powers.

Steeling herself, Heather pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Another day, another time. She just needed to get out of this, prevent her erect nipples from being on display ever again. They pushed to the front of her hanging, fleshy tits, set high on the absurdly perky voluminous orbs.

As Heather got to her destination, Naomi rolled to her side and tapped her own shoulder blades. Heather felt her body lightly roll over and push into Naomi's, her front against Naomi's back. She was the bigger spoon, and when Naomi pulled Heather's arms securely over herself Heather found that she couldn't remove them.

Their thighs pressed together as they curled up. Heather's face pressed tightly into the crook of Naomi's neck, and once again she was grateful and yet despondent that she no longer had to breathe.

Naomi winced, then squirmed into Heather. Her bust jiggled crazily as it pressed into the bed frame, and she murmured, "Goddamn it. C'mon John, finish already."

If Heather could react in any way, she would have. John? Finish what? What had that fucking asshole done to her comically proportioned ex-friend now?

They stayed on the bed for a while. Heather couldn't tell how long it had been; all she could do was hold Naomi tightly to her chest and focus on her. Naomi relaxed against Heather, but seemed to come to herself fairly quickly. Still, she seemed content to wait in Heather's arms, only moving occasionally with an occasional wince or tensing of her upper back.

Eventually, Heather heard Naomi breathe a sigh of relief. What Naomi could possible be relieved from, Heather didn't know. She only hoped it meant that she could stop pressing herself against her newly sworn enemy in a way that only lovers, or maybe close friends, should do.

"Thank you." Naomi rolled out of Heather's embrace, stood up, and stretched. Heather, unable to move from her curled up position on her side and unable to so much as blink without being told to, was **** to watch Naomi's impossibly large anime bust pop out and shake as her back arched.

It was simultaneously arousing and crushing.

Naomi said, "Hmmm, I needed that." She tossed on an old t-shirt that stretched against her new bust and a pair of sweatpants that Heather remembered her borrowing from an ex. Her eyes briefly darted around the room before she said, "Alright then, come along."

What? Heather found herself standing up, her upper body drenched in Naomi's arousal and her lower body covered in her new body's weird, sticky secretions. As Naomi left the room, she found herself starting to follow after her.

She hadn't realized how difficult walking would prove to be as a doll. Her hips were set more widely than evolution had allowed, and her legs, although beautiful, were not at the optimal angle for bipedalism. In the end, her programming overcame her discomfort and she managed to waddle and hobble forwards behind Naomi. The motions caused her fake looking, pert tits to sway and jiggle like a fat, natural pair would. With each step, her hips were thrust one way and then the other; the walk wasn't exactly sexy, but it was ****, put her on display, and was clearly doing things to Naomi based on the other girl's once-again hungry expression.

Heather stopped in the kitchen once Naomi sat at the island and grabbed her phone. She stood a few paces behind Naomi, her face still frozen in the same sultry expression and still covered in the proof of their recent sexual experiences.

Resting her prodigious bust on the cool counter, Naomi typed quickly on her phone and said, "One sec, just gotta tell John to give a girl some fucking warning next time... aaaaaand done." With that, Naomi smiled and turned to Heather, who was standing a few steps away, stationary and with her feet slightly more than shoulder-width apart. "Here, for your next task."

Twisting boobs impossibly bouncing in every direction at once filled Heather's vision for a moment as Naomi reached behind her and grabbed a bunched up piece of white fabric. "Catch!"

On instinct, Heather's hands raised and caught the object. Instead of unfurling it, she simply held it out at arm's length, waiting for direction.

"Right, duh." Naomi practically face-palmed, then said, "Put it on, then jump until I tell you to stop."

The object was an apron. Just an apron, and a small one at that. While wishing to all that is holy and unholy that she could flip Naomi the bird or at least express her displeasure, Heather found herself putting on the apron. As she flattened it against the front of her torso, she found that covered about three-fourths of her tits down to the very top of her thighs.

She cinched the two straps behind her, pulling the fabric taught against her aching new boobs, the flesh spilling out the sides even as the apron displayed a deep valley of cleavage.

Naomi stared at Heather in rapt attention, one hand absentmindedly rubbing her upper thigh. Heather tried to point it out in a barbed jest, but her mouth remained perfectly locked in its O-shape and her thoughts were replaced as soon as she did her first jump.

Panic. Embarrassment. Stress. Anger. Arousal.

It all swirled in her chest, stomach, and loins, the last of which was growing increasingly wet. With each jump, her tits threatened to pop out of the apron, but they somehow managed to stay in. Still, they did lift more than halfway out each time, the sheer mass of them pushing out of the apron as much as possible.

Naomi's face flushed as she watched each hop lift the bottom hem of the apron above Heather's waist, exposing her hairless, perfectly crafted pussy and wide hips. Boobs bounced and shook and jiggled in the apron and out of it. Heather felt heat in her face as if she was flushed and felt a need to cover herself up and run away to hide, but her body never changed complexion and never stopped jumping.

As Heather's boobs bounced down below her ribcage, held the position, and then lifted to follow her body, she felt her pussy heat up even more. Oh no, fuck.

At least her humiliation and embarrassment couldn't cross her face. This feeling, though, the worst and most traitorous of all, would be on display for Naomi with how wet her new toy of a body seemed to get. She was already wet, so maybe it wouldn't be anything new, but she could feel the evidence of her arousal start to trail down her thighs as the fat and muscle on them shook from each jump more than before.

Heather's eyes were locked forwards, always on Naomi. She wanted to look away, to hide her gaze in the floor beneath her feet, but she couldn't. All she could do was jump in her shitty apron, showing off her body for this stupid slut while the evidence of her arousal became more and more apparent.

It didn't take long for Naomi to notice the burgeoning streams. Heather saw Naomi's eyes sparkle, a grin forming on her face, but she quickly shut it down and replaced it with an expression of mock outrage.

"Stop!" Heather stopped hopping, her tits slowing to a stop as they shook her top and pushed out the sides of her apron past the side of her torso. Naomi strode over to her, reached down between her thighs, and cupped her artificial pussy in one hand while lightly caressing the exposed side of a tit with the other. Heather remained frozen and looking forward as she was fondled, despite how good Naomi's hand felt on her aching sex and how nice it felt to have Naomi knead the side of her soft, warm breast.

Naomi dragged a finger along Heather's slit while she said, "Naughty, naughty girl. Getting off on your punishment."

Heather prepared to retort, to tell her it wasn't true, but quickly realized that her mouth was still stuck open and that the effort would be futile. Besides, it would be a lie, and certainly not a convincing one. She just wished she could finally cum. The way Naomi was dragging her finger certainly wasn't helping.

After raising the wet hand that had been on Heather's pussy, Naomi cupped Heather's cheek with it. It was soft, gentle, and sticky, and Heather could do nothing to remove it, nothing to get away. She knew it. Naomi knew it. John knew it, even if he didn't know exactly what Naomi was doing, and he clearly didn't care.

Fuck. Heather wasn't sure if she could ever get out of this.

Her pussy spasmed when Naomi clutched one of her tits through the apron, one hand still on her chin. Naomi then patted her cheek with the wet hand, making a soft and slick slapping sound, then said, "So, I think I need to do something else to teach you a lesson. Something that won't bring you to orgasm. Or to the edge of one, anyway."

At that, she pulled back and grinned at Heather, who could only stew on her own anger and lust. Naomi walked past Heather, towards the oven, and Heather could feel the perv's eyes glancing back at her plump and exposed derriere.

Yep. She felt a sharp sting and the bouncing of displaced flesh as Naomi slapped and then cupped one of her enlarged ass cheeks. Heather felt as if a tear came to her eye from the hit, but none could. She felt her need increase even more as Naomi continued to cup and knead her butt, but she could only stare straight ahead, held on the edge once again.

Pressing into Heather's back, Naomi's own newly created but more natural bust flattened against Heather even as it jiggled according to the perviest of pervy anime physics rules. Heather felt Naomi's breath on her neck and ear as the girl leaned in, her hand sliding from heather's butt to wrap around her waist. She whispered, "I think I've got just the thing."