Curse of the Day
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The Curse Of Madoka free porn video
This is my third story hosted by Fictionmania. This story was adapted
from a Japanese short illustrated story called "Madoka" by Metamorgirl.
If you liked this, please visit their website at
metamorgirl.blog83.fc2.com , or their pixiv account at
www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=7172344 . As always, feel free to leave
constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!
Madoka part 1: metamorgirl.blog83.fc2.com/blog-entry-127.html#more
Madoka part 2: metamorgirl.blog83.fc2.com/blog-entry-128.html#more
The Curse of Madoka
By Dr. Beaubourg
In a way, Madoka's death was not her end. As if her spirit was whisked
away, Madoka died alone in her home. Living in seclusion, her death was
recognized by very few, aside from four boys, who would unknowingly carry
on her legacy until the end of days.
Madoka had always been an enigma to her neighbors. Living in rural Japan,
she enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. She was a gifted painter whose
skill with oil and acrylic could belong to any prestigious art gallery.
Despite this, Madoka never shared any of her paintings with the world.
They stayed in her home, all to themselves. Madoka also was very
particular about her subjects. She only used the nude figures of middle
school-aged children. There were four boys she used for nearly each work
of art. Their names were Ken, Sorata, Shosuke, and Nao.
These boys were introduced to Madoka after wandering about on her
property after school. Madoka lured the boys in with her mysterious
feminine wiles. To these pubescent boys, there wasn't a part of Madoka
that didn't scream absolute sex appeal. She was unlike the average folk
you'd see every day, as if she was carved from marble to be the ideal
form of beauty. She had the most voluptuous body possible, with massive
tits that stuck out from her chest, unhindered by gravity. She had an
impossibly slender waist that only made her wide hips seem even wider.
Her ass was the pi?ce de r?sistance, a hefty derriere that bounced with
each step. Draped over her back, Madoka's hair was a wavy mess of blonde
locks, framing her gorgeous face, complete with full red lips, and
piercing blue eyes that seemed to gaze into your soul.
Day after day, the boys found themselves returning to Madoka's home to
model for her next painting. This made them very uncomfortable, as they
were unaccustomed to posing nude around each other. Madoka also painted
naked, as if to entice them as they stood fixed for hours on end.
Eventually, her visage was burned into their psyche, right down to her
unique birthmarks, three moles arranged in a triangle on the bottom of
her left breast.
The sessions lasted for a year or two, until Madoka's passing. The
coroner's report would show she didn't have any health problems, nor was
she too old. Had someone examined her body, they would have found that
she was a 30 year old in peak physical condition. The four boys were the
first to find her, draped over her latest work, easel still in hand.
As if a great burden was lifted from them, the boys had become disgusted
at what the voluptuous artisan had made them do. Nao, the oldest (and
unofficial leader) gathered up Madoka's works and placed them in a heap
out in the backyard.
"Let's burn them," Nao said, "we don't want anyone finding out about
this, right?" The others hesitated, but eventually caved in, aside from
Shosuke.
"I don't know about this guys..." he stammered. "This doesn't feel right,
burning her paintings. Let's just leave them and go!"
"Yeah, but we have to! We don't want people finding out about these
things, or we'd never hear the end of it!" Nao exclaimed.
Sorata chimed in. "Besides, if the cops come over and see these
paintings, they might think we did it!"
"Isn't that a bit of a stretch...?" Shosuke asked.
"It doesn't matter, let's just burn them and get this over with" chimed
in Ken. Shosuke caved in, watching them stack painting upon painting in
the back yard. Finally, Nao torched the paintings, watching as the flames
licked the canvas, reducing them to char. They buried the remains, and
left Madoka's home. Ken was tasked with leaving an anonymous tip for the
police about Madoka. They huddled around the nearest payphone. They then
spent the next few hours watching the police investigate the house from
afar, dodging and denying and questions involving their relationship to
the late painter. Time passed, until they finally saw her body carried
out on a stretcher. Even under the white sheets, the curves indicated
that it was Madoka. She was loaded up into the medical van, and hauled
away to god knows where. Having found their closure, the boys made for
home.
"Alright, see you tomorrow," Nao muttered, splitting off from the others.
The whole incident had shaken him. He didn't feel good about burning
Madoka's paintings, but he didn't want them to be found either. He felt a
chill run through his spine. Once he got home, Nao retired to his room,
avoiding his family. His mind clutched in guilt, he slept the night away,
images of Madoka flickering about in his mind. He remembered the
countless hours he spent staring at her heaving breasts and she painted,
her feverish strokes stopping to gaze at him, sizing up his proportions.
There was something intense about her eyes, as if she saw right through
your body, into your very essence.
On cue, Nao jolted up at the sound of his alarm. Nao never liked to
dawdled around the house in the morning, so he set his alarm a half-hour
before school starts. Instinctively, Nao leaped out of bed to change into
his school clothes. Something felt off to Nao, but he couldn't put his
finger on it. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and retrieved a clean
shirt from the closet, flinging off his pajamas. The action of removing
them set in motion two sizable mounds that seemed to have appeared on his
chest over night. The bouncing lingered for a moment before he realized
what was off. Upon his torso sat two breasts, nearly a handful for Nao.
"Uwaa!" he exclaimed, startled by his own womanly chest. He gave a leap,
watching his new tits jiggle in response. "What happened to me?" Nao
thought. He threw on the rest of his clothes, and snuck his way into the
bathroom, hiding his bulbous tits from any family members. Locking the
door, Nao lifted his shirt to examine his mammaries. They were about the
size of oranges, he suspected, with long nipples perched on wide, pink
areolas. Nao scrambled into the medicine cabinet, retrieving a few band-
aids.
"They stick straight out! I should cover them up..." he thought, placing
them upon his girly teats. They were sensitive, as touching them made him
squirm. He examined them a bit more, gaging their weight in his hands.
Suddenly, something caught his attention. Three moles sat on the
underside of his left breast. He thought of Madoka and her identical
birthmarks. "What if this is happening to the others?!" he said. Nao
slipped his shirt back on, grabbed his school supplies, and darted out
the door before his family could see him.
Sprinting down the street, Nao flipped his backpack over to his chest to
stop the jiggling. Somehow over the course of five minutes, his breasts
have nearly doubled in size. He could practically feel his soft skin
stretching beneath his shirt. Thankfully, he ran into Ken, making his way
to school.
"Ken! Over here!" Nao beckoned, perched behind a parked van. Ken spotted
him, and scampered over to him, tears descending his cheeks.
"Nao! What's happening to us?" he cried, burying his face between Nao's
breasts. He pushed Ken off to examine his body, comparing Ken's changes
to his own. Large tits hung off his small torso, like someone glued
cantaloupes on a middle scholar's torso. His erect nipples poked through
his shirt.
Nao grabbed Ken's shoulders. "Look! We have to look for Shosuke and
Sorata! Then we'll find out what's happening to us!"
"Yeah" Ken whimpered "They should be at the school already."
"Alright, let's go get them!"
The two boys made their way to the school, scrambling from cover to cover
to not reveal their changing bodies. Eventually, they made it to the
classroom. As they entered, their classmates fell silent. They glanced at
the two, then at the corner, where the other boys were. Whispers could be
heard from their classmates. Nao and Ken, their cheeks bright red,
smashed their boobs behind their books and skulked their way into the
classroom. Shosuke and Sorata had moved their desks into the corner and
made a wall with their books to cover their changing bodies.
"Guys, get over here!" Sorata whispered behind his literary barrier. The
two complied, and hid behind them. Both Sorata and Shosuke were
undergoing the same transformation. In fact, it seems like the changes
were accelerating! Sorata's shirt looked like it was about to burst open,
and Shosuke's shirt crept up his massive breasts. Nao looked at Shosuke's
eyes and noticed the long, girly eyelashes that garnished his watery
eyes. Nao brought his hands to his own face, feeling his own eyelashes.
"Guys, what are we gonna' do?! Our chests are swelling up!" panicked Ken.
Sorata gathered his things and left his chair. "Isn't it obvious?" he
asked, "We've got to go back to Madoka's place!"
"Are you crazy?!" Shosuke muttered. "We can't leave, someone will see
us!"
"Someone will see us if we stay here! Let's go," Sorata replied.
Nao spoke up. "He's right, we have to go. You've probably noticed the
three moles on our chests, right?"
"Yeah, it's just like Mado-" piped in Ken before he was cut off by
Sorata.
"We know, we know. We should head back there to see if we can reverse the
changes!" he said.
The four of them squabbled for a minute, debating their escape plan and
their route to Madoka's home. When it came time for the teacher to enter
the classroom, they stealthily took the back door out, and fled through
the halls. Exiting quietly proved difficult for those that didn't tape
down their enlarged nipples. Nao could hear the muffled moans of his
friends as their nipples brushed against each other's soft breasts.
Eventually, they made their way off of the school grounds, awkwardly
shuffling away from each other; their shirts clung to their engorged
chests, drenched with sweat. They looked down at their freakish tits,
astounded at their growth.
During their escape, their breasts had grown larger! They each looked
like basketballs shoved down the each of the boy's shirts. Luckily, Nao's
baggy t-shirt kept his tits in, while Shosuke's shirt rose all the way up
beneath his nipples. Sorata's dress shirt busted a few buttons, revealing
his ample cleavage. Shosuke's shirt looked like it was going to split
right down the middle. Nao noted the others staring at their changes, and
guided them in the direction of Madoka's home. With no time to lose, they
ran as fast as they can, their massive mammaries bobbing with each step.
It took the boys about 15 minutes of running through back alleys and
dashing behind bushes before they stopped to catch their breath. Running
was becoming increasingly difficult for them, as if weights were being
placed on their back. Suddenly, a voice rang out behind Nao.
"Nao, what's happening to your butt?!" shrieked Ken, still wheezing.
Sure enough, Nao reached over to feel his rear, surprised when his hand
grasped soft, plump flesh. Slowly rising under his shorts was a round,
womanly ass atop his thin, boyish legs. The increase in mass was so
sudden; Nao fell backwards, bouncing softly on his new derriere. His
growth became so great; his shorts unbuckled under the pressure of his
growing ass cheeks. The change moved to his friends as well, their rears
swelling into fat asses that would look large on an adult, let alone a
middle scholar.
"God damn it! I knew this would happen!" said Shosuke, staring back into
his vast ass-cleavage.
"You did?!" shouted Ken, clutching his own massive behind.
"Well, I had a feeling something was wrong. When you guys burnt those
paintings of Madoka, that is. I suspected for a while, but now I know for
sure she's a witch. I mean, we didn't like the modeling we did for her,
but we kept coming back! She probably placed a curse on us back then,
like she did now!"
"A witch?! You can't be serious!" shouted Ken
"Well, what would you call her?! She lived in a house all by her own, and
she did this to us! How else would you explain this?!"
The others nodded in agreement, their eyes fixed on Shosuke's uneven
visage.
Shosuke continued to rant, "I knew we shouldn't have burnt those things,
we should have held a funeral or something!" As he yammered on, Shosuke's
words started to drawl as he found it difficult to enunciate. From the
perspective of the others, Shosuke's body continued to change. As he
spoke, Shosuke's lips quivered as they gained mass, forming into a plump
girly pout. Meanwhile, the swelling in his behind spread to his hips,
pushing them out beyond the length of his shoulders. The expansion moved
its way to his thighs, filling them up until they nearly split the legs
of his pants. The changes occurred in the others too, filling out their
hips and inflating their lips.
"Look, calm down! We're almost to Madoka's house, let's just go!"
interrupted Nao, feeling the extra mass of his lips squish together as he
spoke. The four agreed, and trekked on, the extra weight on their lower
bodies swaying with each step.
30 minutes passed before they reached the final stretch. Their clothes
became damp with sweat as the sun beat down on their transforming bodies.
Before them lay the final obstacle before Madoka's residence, an
incredibly steep hill. Normally the boys would find the energy to scale
it effortlessly, but with their figures shifting beyond their control, it
was more difficult than before. As they scaled the hillside, their bodies
continued to change. As if stretched in a rack, their arms, legs and
spines lengthened, doubling their miniscule height. Their waists caved in
and became toned, leaving a thin, waspish waist that complimented their
wide hips and enormous tits. Their feet grew out from their shoes,
setting them off balance. The change went through their skulls, altering
their facial structure. Their boyish visages gave way to defined
cheekbones, petit noses, thin necks, and smooth jaws. By the time they
had scaled the hill they no longer resembled boys, but beautiful women in
ill-fitted clothing.
It took the boys a minute to realize all of their changes. They were
nearly all spitting images of Madoka, with little personal touches that
were still their own, like their hair and eyes, which remained unchanged.
"Well, we're- eep!" shrieked Ken, shocked at his new, falsetto voice. The
others chimed in, equally stunned at their change of tone. Nao spoke up,
speaking through Madoka's voice.
"We sound exactly like her! We've got to fix this!" he exclaimed,
climbing through an unlocked window, his new extremities squeezing
through the frame. The others followed suit, navigating through in their
clothes several sizes too small. Through the window was the den, where
they spent hours upon hours modeling for the woman that they now
resembled. The den was void of all activity. No lights, no music, no one,
aside from the four Madoka-lookalikes and the rope outline where Madoka's
body laid, still torturing the boys as a void where a woman dropped dead.
Without warning, Sorata doubled over, moaning. He clutched his crotch in
his petit hands as his out-grown pants developed a moist stain, dripping
down his plump thighs and collecting at his feet. Nao, gazing in
confusion felt his muscles in his pelvis contract, and gripped his own
genitals, only for them to slip away from his grasp, forming a vagina in
it's place. The contraction lost its grip on Nao's altered bladder, and
it's contents spilled from his body, creating a warm stain down (now her)
pants. The change passed through the other two, producing the same
result. Dazed, the four stripped off their sweat and piss-stained clothes
to examine their new bodies. From the neck down, they looked exactly like
Madoka, right down to the birthmarks on their left breasts.
Sorata collapsed on the floor, tear streaming down her face. "I- we've
become girls!" she wailed.
"Umm? ?I'll go grab some towels?" muttered Nao. "We should search this
place. M-maybe she left a cure for us or something?"
Nao wandered to the bathroom, retrieving towels for each of the former
boys. In the bathroom, she was finally able to notice herself. There was
no doubting it; she looked like Madoka, aside from her makeup. He thought
of Madoka, and her overtly erotic body. Nao would think of her every
night and day, wishing she would pick him as her lover. Now that she had
her body, it made Nao uncomfortable, and perhaps a bit aroused. Luckily,
Nao still kept her boyish bowlcut hairdo. "But for how much longer" she
pondered. Nao brought the towels back to the den, passing them around. He
draped one around Sorata's shoulders, trying to comfort her.
"C'mon, cheer up. We're going to figure this out, then we'll be back to
normal." Said Nao. Sorata nodded, still the tears still streaming down
her red face. The others started drying themselves, so Nao did too. Her
body still astounded her with all of the changes. Her skin was so soft,
and yet so sensitive. Drying her body off sent shivers up Nao's spine. It
was then when she remembered the band-aids that clung to her swollen
nipples. Nao gripped the ends of them, and with a swift rip, she peeled
the band-aids off, sending her tits jiggling. The sensation of the rough
bandages being torn off sent sparks of ecstasy through her body. She was
lucky the others didn't notice her pleasure. Nao continued to mop up the
mess on her body, stroking every inch with the towel. When it came time
to dry her pelvis, Nao couldn't help but take her time cleaning herself.
Her new genitals felt so alien to her, but she couldn't resist. Nao
manipulated her new pussy with her petit fingers, moans escaping her full
lips. She found her way to her clit, and nearly yelped when she tweaked
it. It took her a minute or two to finish, only to realize that the
others have been watching her the whole time. Nao turned beet red.
"S-so! How about finding that cure, heh heh?" she muttered. Nao, along
with Shosuke and Ken, got up and searched the house. Back when they were
Madoka's models, they had never really explored the place. They hardly
ventured far from the den. It may have looked small, but Madoka made use
of her meager abode. Each room was packed full of tomes, clothes, sex
toys, and other weird things that demonstrated Madoka's vanity. Each time
Nao passed one of the others while searching, they would change slightly.
When she passed Shosuke, she swore that her hair had grown longer and
thicker. Glancing at Ken, she noticed perfectly manicured nails, coated
in a deep red polish. When she returned to the den, make up had spread
onto Sorata's face, a rouge gloss defining her lips, and darker, defined
eyelashes. Distracted by the investigation, Nao hardly noticed the same
changes occurring on her.
An hour passed with no luck. The house contained no clues on how to stop
the changes. None that they could understand at least. The backyard held
none as well. Defeated, the four of them had given up. Huddled together,
they talked amongst themselves about what would come to them. Sorata
continued to weep.
"Waaaaaaaah! I don't want to become Madoka! I want my mommy!"
"Shh, it's okay?" said Ken, hugging her from behind. She stroked Sorata's
hair to calm her down. Shosuke on the other hand was rocking back and
forth, losing her mind.
"No, no! Please forgive us Madoka! We didn't mean to burn them! Please
just spare us!" wailed Shosuke. Tears dripped down Nao's face as she
curled up, clutching her legs to her chest.
"What will happen to us now??" she wondered. Spontaneously, a massive
headache passed through the four former boys' minds. Nao could feel it,
something ravaging his conscious. Fortunately for her, it soon passed.
Nao looked at the others, observing the agony on their faces as they felt
the same migraine that Nao experienced. After a minute or two, the three
of them stopped, a blank expression fixed on their faces.
"H-hey, guys??" asked Nao, worried for her friends. "?w-what happened??"
Slowly, Ken, Shosuke and Sorata all turned their heads to Nao, their
blank expressions changing to grins. Nao could feel it; they were her
friends no longer. The way they sat and stared at her was far too
confident for the three boys Nao knew. They each looked at Nao with the
same intense glare, a gaze he'd definitely seen before.
"Oh, sweet Nao?" cooed Ken. "It looks like your friends have gone and
left you all alone." Sorata, still in the embrace of Ken, chimed in.
"But I wonder why you're still here? Perhaps you've got a strong will?"
Shosuke stood up, towering over the crouched Nao.
"No matter, three out of four isn't bad. Why not leave Nao be? Who knows,
maybe they'll be more?"
Nao bolted up, cowering from the three strangers. "Don't tell me, you-
you're?!"
The three strangers chimed in. "Of course. It's ironic. I spent all of my
time painting you boys, and my last work of art is, of course, me!"
That was it. Nao gazed upon Madoka, born again threefold. The Madokas
surrounded her, laughing manically. Nao dropped to the floor, her
consciousness fading away.
When she woke up, Nao was alone. Her former friends have abandoned her.
Abandoned in Madoka's home, she decided couldn't stay there, who knows if
the cops would show up again. Scavenging for some money and a few dresses
for the road, Nao called a taxi, and set off for the city to find a new
life for herself.
One year later?
Working in a hostess club was tough work for Nao. Living in Kabukicho,
Tokyo's red light district, was even tougher. Nao was lucky that she ran
into the hostess club's owner, who set her up with a job and a room in a
communal apartment. Each night she slipped into the cocktail dress she
took from Madoka's, made herself as alluring as can be (which wasn't
difficult, given the natural beauty given to her from Madoka), and served
alcohol to strangers all night while they griped about work and tried to
cop a feel. This would go on until morning. Occasionally, a man would
proposition Nao for sex in exchange for money. Although she was
reluctant, her salary was poor, so Nao moonlit as a prostitute to get by.
Forced to live the life of a child stuck in a woman's body, Nao often
wished that Madoka had not spared her mind and took her, along with her
friends.
One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Nao headed back to the
apartment with the rest of the hostesses, when she heard a trio of
distressed voices from beyond an alley. Venturing forth to see the issue,
she was greeted with three figures. A high-school aged boy, a middle-
school aged girl, and a kindergarten-aged girl all moaning and wailing,
their clothes ripping over their changing body. Nao thought to help
them, until she spotted the distinctive three-dot triangle adorning their
left breasts. It was then she realized that they were beyond help, and
despair gripped her heart. She knew that there would be a time where
Madoka would seize all of mankind, and hoped that she would not live to
see that day.
The End
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