Rewritten | Tied Down

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We all get busy with things. . . .

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I wanted to run but as soon as her slender fingers touched my skin, I had no will of my own.  Her sultry voice commanded me to sit and I did so without a word.  I felt my body discarding my clothing in exchange for the delicate undergarments she handed me. I wanted to ask her how she was doing this and she seemed to know my thoughts.  

“No words” she whispered, "It is not important.”  I struggled to respond, but something repressed the words developing in my throat.  I could only concentrate on her sensual touch and the paralyzing tingle that lingered as her fingers moved on.  Her ruby-tipped talons dragged over my skin, forcing me squirm.  The tingling sensation penetrated deep beneath the skin, some lingering force rearranging my insides. She smiled at me as she slid a gag into my mouth, locking it behind my head before binding my wrists.  She purposely brushed her fingertips down my sides and over my hips.  A single tip dragged from one thigh to another, eliciting an erotic moan from the unfamiliar sensation.  

The warm energy inside me expanded its influence, the changes now coming to the surface.   Lips from when she touched them were pulpy. Full. Tempting.  They stretched around the gag, some strange coating on them.  My skin was suddenly hyper aware of the air crackling with energy, tickling my flesh and coaxing it to turn soft.  I felt hair rapidly sprouting from my scalp and rearranging itself into some type of style.  I was helpless to fight the changes, her spell and binds preventing my escape.  I could only feel them as I was blinded by a silk mask.  And yet, I soon realized what I was transforming into.  Slender hips.  Willowy limbs.  A heavy bosom filling the cups of my bra.  This was a feminine form.  

The thunk of my hips spreading and my waist coiling shook me, as did my ever deepening cleavage.  My body tightened itself, pulling my flesh taut over my smaller form.  My desperate moan into the gag was the final plea for my manhood.  My whimpers fell on deaf ears as the damp, aching tunnel of womanhood birthed itself between my thighs.  My captor's  voice whispered that I was going to be a wonderful toy for my new mistress.  I shivered as her gentle breath caressed my ear, erasing my past with a new name . . . Maxine. . . .