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The spell’s energy prickled under the skin, sparking every nerve end and assuring David felt each touch, prod and caress. Carol’s sensual touches left an erotic tingle that lingered long after she moved to another part of the body.
“You might be my best work yet,” Carol’s fingers pressed against David’s lips, slowly pressing them into shape, reworking them into a plump cupid’s bow. “So kissable! I don’t think nature could have done a better job. Is it right to be jealous of one’s own work? It’s not fair you look better than me. Oh, well - it’s the curse of the artist!” David tried to struggle against his magic bonds, but the string of curses remained inside his mind. How could she be so callous?
Yet despite his fear, David could not deny the sensuous pleasure Carol’s magic brought. Her fingers had worked laboriously to modify his chest; fingers sinking deep into his flesh like clay, slowly building the quivering mounds of a abundant bosom. All of it was a constant stream of erotic delight that overloaded his mind. It mixed with his feeling of helplessness, blending into a potent combination of embarrassment. Every time Carol rolled him in front of a mirror, he was greeted with a new change. Each bit of masculinity she took from David fascinated and frightened him. Gone were the hard edges and firmness. The lines of age had been replaced with the taut smoothness of youth. Thick tangles of silky hair now framed the sweet face of a young ingenue. Based on the progress, he knew she was nearing the end.
“Oh I almost hate it when my work is done,” Carol lamented as her fingers moved down below David’s waist. “Once the body is complete, the mind is next. I have to lay a new mind over the old one and then I’ll be able to display my new art for sale. Hopefully I’ll have found some new material to work with by the time you are sold.”