Play nice with Wendell.

You agonize over the decision while Wendell waits with gruesome glee. If you don't play by Wendell's rules, who knows how long you could be stuck a girl? You could go to the staff, but if they are anything like Dean Le Fey, they are as likely to help themselves to you as they are to help you out. At least Wendell seems wimpy enough that he can't take things TOO far. You pull yourself up to your knees. Wendell looks down at you with naked hunger and scorn. You look up big doe eyes that you hope will illicit some sympathy and ask, "You promise not to tell anyone?"

Wendell smirks and holds up his right hand, "I solemnly swear it will be our little secret." You don't know if that's some kind of special warlock oath, but you don't have any choice but to trust him and hope for the best. You offer him your hand and he takes it, pulling you up until your body is pressed up against him. Your breasts bare and nipples embarrassingly erect and your pants barely hanging off your plump ass and curvy hips. He 'helps' you out of them while you tremble and squirm, trying not to enjoy his hands on your supple, sensitive skin.

"Hmmm...it's been to long since I had a gender bent bimbo to play with. I think I'll give my self a form more fitting the occasion." You wonder what a mean little nerd like Wendell considers fitting, but you don't have to wait long to find out. His eyes glow blood red and he chants, " lmDrol fo Noitanimod dna Xes, evig em eht mrof na suoirepmi xer!"

You watch, dumbstruck as Wendell begins to grow up and out, his clothes splitting and falling to the floor as he shifts and swells. He tosses his glasses to the floor and stands before you. His golden hair now frames a handsome face with a square jaw. His body is broad and bulging with muscles and his skin bronzed. You gulp as you glance down at his massive, monster of a member and wonder how you are supposed to fit that fat fucking thing inside you.

"That's right, slut. I clean up nice, don't I? The only problem with this invocation is that it calls on the lord of domination and sex, Saderos. He feeds off the submission and lust of sluts like you. So if I don't break you by midnight, he'll claim me instead. But don't worry your pretty little head about that, babydoll. A little bitch like you should break before noon."

You despise him for his cocky, confidence, but as he pulls your frail form against his hard, throbbing body with one powerful python of an arm, you can't help but lean into him...just ever so slightly. With his thick cock crushed hard and throbbing against your burning loins and his hot hands roaming all over your flushed flesh, you can't help but think his confidence might be justified. You try not to show how turned on you are right now, but with your nipples hard and hurting as they scrape against his chiseled chest and your hairless, horny cunt drooling against his hard muscle, you suspect he might have a hint. "That's right, Brandi, you can't resist me. My very touch fills your weak, willing body with irresistible arousal and leaves you dripping with desire. The only question is when, not if, you beg me to breed you."

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a muffled moan as Wendell lifts your head to claim your mouth with his own. Your mind reels. You've never even thought about kissing a man before...then again you've never been a wet, whimpering woman before. You can't believe his gross, slippery tongue is slipping inside your mouth...can't believe it tastes so good...can't believe how talented it is as it twists and twirls around your own. You wonder what else he might be able to do with that tongue...you try to push the images of his surprisingly soft lips wrapping around your aching nipples, his tongue circling around them...kissing his way down your supple, spasming stomach to your trembling thighs. You imagine him kissing your lower lips just as dominating and passionate as he kisses your mouth...and you imagine kissing him back...

"NO! I MMPH can't! I SLURP won't! You can't KISS make me!" You break his kiss to shout feeble protests you barely believe, and then betray them by kissing him harder between each weak denial. He let's you continue to fight your own confusion and conflicted desires while his hands slide over your tiny, traitorous body.

As he squeezes your breasts and his nimble fingers expertly tantalize your throbbing nipples you wonder how you can ever fight off his perverse power and the alluring trap of your sensitive new skin. As he wraps his huge hands around your waist, completely enclosing them around you, there is a sense of helpless humiliation. Once a nasally nerd, now he is a powerhouse that could snap you like a twig. So why does that thought excite you almost more than it terrifies you? When he gropes and kneads your plump, ample ass, you can't resist the urge to roll your hips and writhe in his hands and against the thick cock sliding up against your wet cunt.

"That's right, Brandi, surrender. A pathetic half breed bitch like you could never stand against my noble lineage. Besides, if you don't surrender willingly, I'll just fuck you brainless." His voice...his pinched, prickish voice. It's the one thing his god couldn't gift him, and it grates on you like nails on a chalkboard. Surely you can't surrender to a snobby geek like him? Then again, if you're going to get fucked either way, why not enjoy it?