The MILF Machine: A Day In The Life free porn video

As a commissioned story, I initially didn't plan on uploading it on FM. However, since it's related to my previous MILF machine story, I thought I might as well. Thanks for reading! The MILF Machine: A Day in the Life By Dr. Beaubourg Commissioned by Jwargod Hello again. It is I, Marty Campbell, your ever humble narrator. I thought you'd want to know a little bit more about my life after I stumbled upon the marvelous invention known as "the MILF machine. As always, I'm ready to oblige. Since I first discovered it, I've been hard at work trying to figure out what makes the MILF machine tick. It's elusive creator, known only as "Doc", left behind a series of intricate blueprints, but even with them I still couldn't figure out the darn thing. Not that I expected device that changes people into sexy older women is simple, but you catch my drift. Regardless, I had set my sights on figuring out this contraption, if it's the last thing I do. Anyways, I woke up that day like I would any other. Out of school and jobless, I don't usually find the motivation to get up before noon. I did my usual tasks: shower, brush teeth, comb hair, you know. I had a lot to do today. I made my way over to my computer and checked my camera show stats. I forgot to mention. I may be unemployed, but thanks to that marvelous MILF machine was I able to find a decent alternative to actual hard work. Using the MILF machine, I created a couple of different personalities, each with their own online private camera shows. It's tough keeping up with all the requests across three milf personas, but boy does it pay. Anyways, I decided to check on what people were saying about my camera shows. After all, I don't want to lose my easiest source of income. Scrolling through comment after comment, weeding out the asinine comments and lewd requests. Eventually, I came to a consensus across each private show. Relying on a few specific articles, my choices of clothing were dull, drab, and not very sexy. How could I overlook that! When I would use the MILF machine to change, I would have it generate the same outfits each time! I'm surprised someone didn't point out the similarities in garments between my different shows, or they might suspect that each different show was connect, and they'd demand multiple milfs per show. I can be a plethora of people, but two at a time is something not even the MILF machine could do. It looked like I should get something new to wear. However, I wasn't going to spend a single dime on an outfit at some store. No, that's what I had the MILF machine for! Struck with inspiration, I clamored to the restroom, MILF machine in hand, and selected my favorite persona to play a decidedly sexier version of dress-up. After my first MILF machine test, I discovered the ability to save certain alters for convenience, in case someone wanted to reuse the form later on. Of course, I had to save my first milf form: my "mother", Helen Campbell. When I first found the MILF machine, I activated it against my better judgment, turning me into one hell of a milf. My friend Rob showed up, and I convinced him that I was my mom. The plan worked so well, he still doesn't question my validity. Perhaps fucking him was all the evidence he needed. I haven't seen him since then, although Rob sent me an email where he not-so-subtly asked for Helen's number, so I went out and got a cheap phone just to keep up this fa?ade. Anyways, as I stood before the mirror, I fiddled with the MILF machine's Game Boy monitor, and selected Helen Campbell from the pre-made options. I pressed the start button, and let the transformation take me over. After the first time, transforming into Helen moved a lot faster. What took minutes now takes seconds. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy the changes every now and again. The first change occurred in my clothes. The MILF machine's idea of a neutral outfit is a normal set of undergarments. Well, normal for a cougar out on the prowl. My pants and shirt shrunk across my body, it's material becoming smooth silk. My sleeves crept up my arms as my neckline dwindled as they started to form two satiny cups. The same went for my jeans, as the legs shot up, hiking up over my hips. Finally, their color changed to a bright pink, adorned with black lacing. I admit, I felt strange wearing this. The bra hung loose off my shoulders, void of any tits to full them. The same goes for the panties, as they were short two plump cheeks. A few seconds passed before I felt waves of numbness flow through my body enacting even more changes. The first changes occurred in my skeleton, reshaping my structure into a feminine one. My height shrunk, and my legs grew, causing me to stumble. My waist caved in as my hips shot out. My hands and feet shrunk to girlish proportions, with nails growing to womanly claws. I brought my hands to my face to feel my skull morphing, following my cheekbones as they rose out. My teeth moved as my jaw thinned. My skeletal structure was complete. The changes moved to my curves, as fat started accumulate in my hips, thighs and ass. The rear of my panties filled out as my derriere became massive. The panties stretched tight across my hips as fat distributed across them. I felt my thighs squish together as they thickened. I looked down at the changes, comforted by my voluptuocity. All at once, every single hair from the neck down shot straight up as they disappeared from sight. I rubbed my hands over my body, feeling the soft, flawless skin. I gazed at my erect cock, proudly pitching a tent beneath the pink panties. I couldn't help but lightly stroke it as it was being reabsorbed into my body. Before I knew it, my fingers were manipulating a pair of moist pussy lips, forming a small stain in the crotch of my panties. The changes moved to my chest as I witnessed my nipples lengthening, their areolas expanding in tandem. The flesh under them swelled out, with two breasts rising from my chest. The swelling stopped at a b-cup, not nearly enough to fill this bra. Suddenly, silicone implants spread from under the breasts, growing to their full cantaloupe size in an instant. The force of their growth left them bouncing about. Unfortunately, their rapid growth left them out of place, so I cupped each breast, gingerly placing them in the deep cups.. Upon further inspection, they hardly fit, as my areolas peeked out from the shiny pink bra. I grasped them in my hands, admiring their size and heft. Finally, the changes took over my face. My masculine visage gave way to Helen's beautiful feminine features. I couldn't help but place my fingers on my lips as they plumped out. Like dough rising in an oven, I could feel the collagen gorging my lips as they pushed away from my face, creating a perfect sexy pout. My nose became a cute button nose, as my eyelashes grew long and thick. Slight wrinkled formed on my face as my skin aged to about 50 years old. My brown, boring hair gave way to beautiful blonde locks that rose into beehive hairdo. My eyes became blue, highlighted by the mascara and eye shadow caking my face. I pursed my lips, feeling the pink gloss coat them. Nail polish of the same shade slathered over my hands and feet. Finally, jewelry adorned my body, with gold hoop earring piercing my lobes, and a pearl necklace adorned my neck. "Damn Helen, you look good!" I said in my sultry voice, admiring the changes. I did a quick 180?, admiring my ass in the mirror. I wasn't just tooting my own horn, I really did look good. The way my tits were barely constrained by my bra was tantalizing to say the least. Not to mention the way my panties rode low on my hips, causing my ass cheeks to peek out. I could stare at my body for hours. "Oh right, I'm supposed to be trying on outfits..." I exclaimed, fumbling for the MILF machine. I must admit, changing only one option at a time was something I hadn't done yet. I flicked through the MILF machine's options, a difficult task given my perfectly manicured nails. Setting the clothing option to random, I pressed the start button as the MILF machine gave a small ping. I could feel cloth trickling down my body as a bright red blouse appeared, forming over my breasts and down my torso. Small, white polka dots speckled it as short sleeves covered my shoulders. The blouse extended downwards, becoming a loose skirt to the length of my knees. A white apron appeared around my waist. Meanwhile, I unconsciously stood on my tiptoes as black heels formed under my feet. I looked down at the MILF machine's game boy monitor. In the clothing option it said "50's housewife". "Well, this certainly looks like the 50's..." I muttered, ruffling the skirt a bit. I examined the dress in the mirror, taking a pose or two. In the middle of a pirouette, I knocked over my bottle of mouthwash, splashing it all over the floor. "Oh fiddlesticks!" I said, although I distinctly remember my brain to say fuck. "I guess the outfits introduce some personality quirks." I thought, instinctively pulling out a rag from my apron to mop up the mess. After the floor was spic and spam, I decided to give the MILF machine another try. "Please be nothing weird..." I muttered, pressing random again. I felt the 50's housewife dress shudder, as the fabric started to contort around my figure. The red fabric with white-polka dots gave way to a black blazer, forming up around a blue dress shirt that dwindled down to reveal my deep cleavage. The 50's housewife skirt tightened and became form fitting, while stockings crept up my legs from my heels. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses fell on my face. Looking into the mirror, it appears I was wearing some sort of business suit. Wearing the suit, I stood confident. Every motion was full of pride. Hell, I felt proud wearing it, like I had accomplished something important. Unfortunately, I don't think business suits work very well for private camshows. "Alright now, let's move it on. I can't waste much time," I said to no one in particular. My voice was cold and emotionless. I guess this suit really made me all business. I pressed random again, and braced myself for the next change. As the MILF machine processed the action, my clothing changed yet again. Whereas the last two outfits were modest, I could feel the cloth shrink as it became a significantly more erotic piece. The dress shirt and jacket shrunk down to two silver pasties, fastening themselves to my pert nipples. The skirt wrapped around my legs and ascended my thighs, becoming a silver pair of shorts that rode extremely low on my hips. The thick-rimmed glasses slowly lifted away from my face as they faded from existence. The discreet black heels morphed into a pair of clear platform pumps that lifted me nearly half a foot off of the ground. After regaining my balance, I gazed over to the MILF machine's monitor. The clothing option read "Stripper". "Now this could work..." I declared, examining the outfit in the mirror. The shorts were the smallest pair I had ever seen, they covered only a fraction of my fat ass. Not to mention the pasties. In their tips lay some tassels that hung loosely down my tits. Instinctively, I decided to rotate my torso to make them spin. Round and round my massive breasts bounced, sending the tassels flying in each direction. "I guess this outfit was made for a more smaller bust." I thought, cupping my ample breasts. There was no doubt that this was sexy, but it wouldn't hurt to try a few more options. Due to my new heels I had to bend over to pick up the MILF machine from where I placed it, exposing most of my hefty ass to the open air. I randomized the clothing, and hoped for the best. Instead of my clothing becoming even more scares, the pasties started to expand into an actual garment as they grew downwards, gaining a black lusters as it changed into a corset. The silver booty shorts grew thinners as the legs hiked over my hips, wedging it's rear right between my massive cheeks. It's color changed to match the corset, becoming an enticing black thong. The clear pumps shifted to more maneuverable heels as they too turned black, as leggings appeared over my heels and escalating to mid thigh, revealing thigh-high boots. Matching black gloves extended over my arms as a black mask formed over my eyes. Between my ample bosom, I felt something long and hard emerge. Reaching into my deep cleavage, I pulled forth a lengthy riding crop. I guess this costume came with it's own accessories. The MILF machine's monitor read "Dominatrix". Yep, that much was apparent. "I am sure there are several very naughty boys that would like to be punished..." I cooed. I flicked the crop through the air a few times, admiring the way it cuts through the air. It's leather handle looked firm, but flexible. Just solid enough to sting without bruising the skin. These new boots weren't so bad either. I couldn't help but think they'd be better standing over a helpless sub. I guess this was the injected personality talking, but I didn't mind. However, I thought I could get a few more choices of attire. With the random selected yet again, I fixed my eyes on the mirror to observe the next changes. Firstly, the entirety of the dominatrix outfit turned bright red, from the mask to the boots. They then constricted, and spread through my body, swallowing up every inch below the neck. The material as it turned into latex, outlining every detail of my body, from my nails to my nipples, everything was put on display beneath the bright, stretchy material. By the looks of it, this was some sort of latex catsuit. Moving around in this thing was difficult. Each time I motioned even in the slightest, I could feel the latex squeaking and stretching across my whole body, resisting my every move. Despite that, this was probably the most form-fitting outfit I've ever worn. I noticed a zipper dangling at my neck, strained by the rubber around it. I gently tugged at it, and it flew out of my grasp, sinking down my chest and releasing my tits from the catsuit's rubbery grasp. With my cleavage bare, I found the catsuit more bearable. This could be a viable option for my camshows, but it wouldn't hurt to try one more though. As I readied myself for the last change, the latex's grasp eased up, splitting into several parts. The rubber across my back and arms softened, becoming silk robes that hung gracefully from my arms and shoulders. The fabric moved to my chest, changing the latex that held my tits into a silk neckline that descended to my belly, leaving my breasts unsupported, and nearly bare to the air. Observing the smooth fabric revealed tiny hints of gold embedded in soft white cloth. The rubber catsuit's legs fused together into a thigh-length skirt of the same material. Once the fabric was in place, I could feel jewelry forming on my person. On my neck, an elaborate cowl lined with gold and sapphires came to be. A matching headpiece made of golden chain lined my cranium, as if to signify nobility. The pumps shrunk down to moderate heels, adorned with gold as well. This was probably the most elaborate garb yet. Looking down at the MILF machine, I read the option "Egyptian Queen" on the screen. That much was apparent. The robes didn't leave much to the imagination. Even unhindered by a bra, my breasts stuck straight out, the cloth descending down them like a silk waterfall. The jewelry wasn't bad either, bringing a sense or grace to my erotic body. On a spare sheet of paper, I quickly jotted down the outfits that I could use for my camshows. Unfortunately, there weren't nearly enough, and the options I was given were fairly hit and miss. It looks like I was going to pay a visit to my local adult entertainment superstore to pick up some new duds. One thing's for sure, I wasn't going out dressed like some pharaoh. I picked up the MILF machine and selected an option for some normal attire. The silk robes of the Egyptian queen outfit shrunk down to a much more average material. The robes split into two halves, forming into a green tube top, bearing both cleavage and midriff, and a pair of daisy duke shorts, the pant legs nearly crawling up my ass. The gold heels shifted to a more subtle pair of heeled sandals, more suited for shopping. This was an interesting choice to go out. It was designed to be simple, yet attract attention. How it came to this conclusion is yet another mystery of the MILF machine. As I set the device on the counter, I took a gander at the options screen. If I was able to individual change clothes, why not mess around with some of the other options. I ponered the different changes I could enact, flicking through the screen. The cursor landing on "RACE". "What the hell, why not?" I muttered, setting it to random. As I pressed start, a warm wave grazed every nerve in my body. Starting at my fingers, a tide of dark brown moved inwards, changing the color of my skin. In seconds it filled every square inch of my body, changing it from my usual porcelain tone to a that of a rich coffee hue. All of a sudden, my facial features began to change. My blue eyes turned brown, my nose broadened, and my thick lips plumped out even further. The sheen of my blonde hair became a dark luster as it became black, retaining the sumptuous beehive look. I sensed more changes as they moved lower into my body. My chest clenched as my massive breasts shrunk a few cup sizes, the implants still firmly in place. The mass taken from my tits moved down to my body onto my hips, expanding the fat around it. My chunky ass thickened even more, straining my shorts to their limit. I could feel my thighs mash together as they fattened up even further. When the changes had settled, I had become a black version of Helen! I placed my hands on my gargantuan hips to inspect the alterations, and I was quite pleased. I ran my hands around my spacious thighs and over my colossal ass, kneading it between my fingers. I took a while before I realized I should stop feeling myself up and actually head down to by some clothes, so I decided to head out. I snatched my purse from the living room counter, and made for the door. Here's a fun fact about the MILF machine: If the subject has any objects they usually keep in pockets when going out, it usually creates a purse to take with them, along with a couple of other key items. Mostly things like women's toiletries, makeup and other useful stuff, including a valid I.D. for the current persona. Whenever I head out as a MILF, I always make sure I bring my purse, it makes me feel all the more feminine as I stride down the sidewalk, which is key for "staying in character", which I never found difficult in the first place. I made my way out the door, passing my landlord on the way. I'm sure he glared at me, but he should be used to various women dashing in and out my apartment. I bounded down the stairs, and jumped into my car. One of the unexpected downsides of changing your appearance every so often are the things you take for granted. For instance, each time I pile into my shitty mid-90's Chrysler, I always have to adjust the seat, depending on if I changed myself into someone with a big ass or longer legs. Seatbelts were a pain as well, always digging straight into my cleavage. Never the less, I drove out to my local "Dr. Jack's", where I'm sure I'd find just the right outfit. Upon entering the store, I noticed that there was nary a person in sight, save for the cashier attendant, wistfully daydreaming into his magazine. I decided to help myself to the clothing isle, conveniently located between the ludicrously-sized dildo isle and the edible lubricant isle. Let's see, I have to get some in 'one size fit all'..." I muttered to myself. This too, was one of the downsides of possessing a MILF machine. Outfit after outfit I took from the shelf, holding up against my body to see what it would look like on me. Sooner or later, I picked out a few items, mostly cheap lingerie that wouldn't strain on several different size of milfs. I also grabbed a few props for my show for good measure. You know, just a few cheap vibrators to spice things up. I headed to the changing room to try a few on, catching the eye of the cashier on the way. Before heading in, I gave a sly wink, and disappeared behind the drawn curtain. Minutes passed as I tried on each item individually, blatantly disregarding the "wear underwear under each garment" sign. Each bra and thong looked better than the last. Well, better on me anyways. The way each panty and g-string disappeared between my big black ass cheeks astounded me to no end. There was no doubting my arousal. I couldn't help myself from lightly fondling myself, careful not to alert the cashier outside. A half hour passed by, and I had only tried on half of my lingerie. I heard a series of footsteps from outside the changing room, and a soft knock on the wall. "Excuse me, miss? You can't stay in there for that long. I'm afraid that if you aren't going to ring up your items I'm going to have to ask you to leave," announced the cashier from behind the curtain. Well shit. Here comes the cavalry to kick me out, and just when I was having fun. Besides, I was really horny. I guess this is when my feminine charm really kicks in. I swiped open the curtain, and there he was. A pathetically average guy, not unlike my normal self. Only a few tattoos and a septum piercing set him apart. Not the best, but he'll do. "Sorry about that!" I pleaded, "But I was wondering if you could help me with something real quick..." I grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the tiny room. "Oh thank you so much! Here, I was wondering if you could tell me what you think of this..." I cooed, moving him behind me. Shoved against the wall, I had him exactly where I wanted him. I backed up, pressing my gigantic rear straight into his crotch. I could hear him gasp, and I loved it. I grinded against his lap for a moment, feeling the erection surging through his loins. "Hey, I wanna' get your opinion. How do you think this looks on me...?" I said, guiding his hands up to my ample breasts. He gazed into the mirror in front of him as if to reassure that this is happening. "U-um, It looks good..." he mumbled, sinking his fingers into my tits. "Well then, what do you think of this?" I turned around, and locked lips with him. Initially too shocked to act, he eventually complied, wrestling his tongue with mine. We made out for a few minute, with him alternating between grabbing my breasts and massaging my ass. Finally, I broke away from him, dropping to my knees. My eyes fixed on his groin, I fumbled at his buckled, pulling down his shorts to reveal his massive hard-on. Without hesitation, wrapped my thick pink lips around it, the savory taste of cock filling my mouth. The cashier moaned as I licked his shaft all over, savoring his flavor. I've never sucked a dick before, but it looks like I was a natural. I could feel the blood pulsing through his cock as I bobbed up and down, my suction increasing with every nod. I thought this guy was going nuts by how much he was moaning. I clutched his balls in my palm, jostling them to increase his ecstasy. At this point, I became so horny I couldn't help myself. I grabbed one of those cheap vibrators and slid it into my pussy, reveling in the electric pleasure emanating from within me. Each time I drove my mouth over his cock, I plunged the vibrator deeping as if driven by some erotic rhythm, the tempo increasing as my own pleasure was nearing it's peak. Finally, I could feel his balls spasm as he prepared to come. I put my whole mouth around his dick as he blew his load, his semen coating my throat. I pulled away, coughing up his seed. Little drops of his white mess splotched on my dark tits. I looked up at him and gave him the sexiest expression I could muster. "So, do you think I could get a discount on these...?" By the time I walked out of Dr. Jack's adult entertainment super-store, I had 50% off each item. He even promised future discounts if I was willing to try on a few more outfits for him. I would definitely be returning there in the future. Sexuality is a strange thing with the MILF machine. I'd consider myself heterosexual as Marty. It's what I've been all my life. When I'm a milf, however, I find that changing in the strangest way. Of course I'm attracted to men, like I was with Rob and that cashier, but I'm also simultaneously attracted to myself, or the body I'm occupying. Other women won't turn me on as a milf, so I'm not sure if I can could call myself bisexual, but it's somewhere in the middle of the sexuality spectrum while under the influence of the MILF machine. Eventually I returned to my apartment, and shed my milf persona for my own bland body. Hours passed, and I was certain that I wasn't going to do anything productive. Today was an off day in my camshow schedule, and my equipment to replicate the MILF machine wasn't going to arrive until later. All I wanted to do was lay around and watch TV until I willed myself to do something else. I motioned for the remote, knocking over bottles stacked one by one of the coffee table. "Damn, I haven't cleaned this place since I first moved in." I pondered. This was true. The place was practically a sty. The only room I kept remotely clean was where I performed on camera, and even that was far from pristine. I felt a twinge of humility. I really should clean this place up. There was only one problem: I had no motivation. The solution: I knew someone who did. Whenever I used the MILF machine to becoming one of my alters, they would always be so energetic to get something done, sort of how each outfit imbued me with it's own personality traits. I'm sure one would help me get clean this place up. I grabbed the MILF machine, programmed a few options, and activated it, ready to get something done for once. My skin tingled as the changes began to occur. All of my hair changed at once, with my body hair dwindling and my hairdo becoming a cute brown bobcut. The next to change was my face. What resulted was a face unlike what I was used to. As opposed to Helen's visage, which appears to be the result of years of frantic work to appear young, this face was simple, cute, and natural that had avoided the wrinkles and blemishes of aging. What set it apart were thinner lips and a pointer nose resulting in a more common beauty, as opposed to Helen's heavily botoxed face and. Augmented lips Make-up caked my face with bright-red lipstick, dark eye shadow, and thick eyelashes. My body structure followed, my structure dwindling and gaining as it saw appropriate, with some emphasis on my legs, stretching them lengthier then usual. Then, I felt the all too familiar gender switch, as my manhood melted away to nothingness as it developed features of the fairer sex. I'd be lying if I didn't say that the change in genitals always managed to turn me on. The changes finally made their way to my chest, where two natural c-cups sprouting forth. They weren't the massive melons that Helen had, but I'm sure these would be a hell of a lot easier to work with while cleaning. The next changes would not be so conservative. I could feel the changes move downwards, focusing at my hips. In an instant, fat began to build up, and in no small amount. More then ever before, my ass, hips, and thighs bulged out. The changes were so fierce, I nearly fell over. Luckily, my legs became attuned to these changes, toning up beneath the soft curves. Finally, the growth became too strong for these pants of mine, and split them right down the hips, freeing my ass of my denim prison. By the looks of it, this was the biggest rear the MILF machine had probably ever produced. It stuck out even further than when I had race-swapped Helen! My hips spread far past my shoulders, and my thighs were so thick there wasn't a moment where they didn't touch. I brought up my hand and gave my hefty rear a smack, feeling the fat jiggle through my lower extremities. As soon as it settled down, the shredded jeans formed up on me again, shifting along with my shirt to make an appropriate outfit for cleaning. The shirt turned dark as a ruffled black blouse fixed upon my chest, lifting my breasts and exposing the ever-so important cleavage. A white apron added onto the blouse with a feather duster stuck in the waistband. The jeans changed as well; becoming a tight black miniskirt so short you could easily see the thong underneath (which also just appeared). Black heels formed over my small feet, sprouting black fishnet stockings that crept midway up my tremendous thighs. Finally, a ruffled headband set on my head, completing the French maid look. "Magnifique!" I exclaimed in a thick French accent, "It is time to clean this d?go?tant chez!"I guess among all of the changes French was built in. I'd have to remember this feature for later. I spent the next hour or so sprucing the place up, bouncing each and every way. As I glided through the apartment I couldn't help but wildly swing my hips as if it was the most natural thing to me. I swear it was so extreme that I nearly knocked over a lamp or two going at it. I would have finished cleaning the place earlier, but I became distracted along the way. While cleaning the bathroom mirror, I couldn't help but admire my curves, particularly the way I moved around in them. I decided I'd give myself a demonstration. One thing I learned from using the MILF machine is that all of my alters seem to be good at dancing. Well, not any kind of dancing, but the hyper-sexual moves that would charm the pants off of anyone. So I danced. Shimmying and shaking to a beat existing only in my head. I spent about 10 minutes just dancing to myself, watching every point of my body move as if I was in some sort of trance. Eventually I came to, but not until I stripped off my skirt and blouse in a dancing frenzy. Well, It's not like I needed them anyways. I finished cleaning the apartment, and boy was it worth the effort. During my sprucing up, I had worked up a massive appitite. "Perhaps I should try another persona more suited for cooking, non?" I said to myself in my thick accent. I strolled over to the MILF machine and fiddled away at the options, ready to assume a new form for a new task. The all-too familiar tingle crossed through my body as the changes occurred instantly. All throughout my body, my pigmentation darkened to a rich brown tone. I felt my skin grow heavy as fat spread through my being. Stretching my lingerie to it's limit, I took on a few dozen pounds, as if my body was compensating for the massive butt I had only a few moments ago. My face changed, with my lips filling out and my nose broadening, becoming distinctively ethnic. My short bobcut became black, lengthening into a long wavy hairdo. The lingerie fused over my body, becoming a comfortable sundress that hung loosely off my curves. The MILF machine made me into a plump black woman. "Now this feels good!" I exclaimed, walking about in my new body, feeling the greater mass of my figure. I wasn't obese by any means, but this was the meatiest figure I've had yet. I rushed over to the kitchen, ready to cook like it was what I was born to do. Flipping through the pantry, I was embarrassed at its contents. I wasn't the healthiest of eaters, with T.V dinners and take-out taking up the majority of my meals. After pondering for a while, I decided that a nice pasta dish would hit the spot. I gathered the ingredients and got to cooking. Like with my maid form, I found myself cooking with such passion as I had never done before. Hell, I wasn't even using a cookbook, the recipe came naturally. I was just going through the motions, salting the water, pur?eing the tomatoes and assembling the spices. It felt nice to be so skilled, even if it wasn't my skill I was using. It also helped to be moving around in a body like this. Unlike my past MILF forms, this was a much more "realistic" body, but it felt amazing nonetheless. I would catch myself making my actions more vibrant just to feel the way my body moved. As I diced an onion I would forcefully bring the knife to the board just to feel the ripples move across my smooth brown arms, or place bend down extra low to grab a dish out of the oven to let my full breasts hang off my torso, only to feel them droop back down beneath the soft silk of my blouse. After about a half hour of cooking, I had finished, and boy did I deserve it. I plated up a heaping portion of the pasta, and saved the rest for later. I sat down to the table, silverware in hand, when I heard an odd tone from across the room. On the coffee table laid my cell phone, the soft sound of my phone alerting me of a text message ringing throughout the apartment. I set aside my dinner as I bounced across the room to grab it. It was only a few seconds, but I needed to catch my breath when I reached my cell. I guess each body had its ups and downs. I activated the phone, and examined the message. "Your packages have arrived!" read the message in bold letters. No doubt from the shipping company alerting me to the tools I had ordered a while ago. I was jubilant! Now I could start decoding the old man's riddle and build my own MILF machine Peeping out the window, I saw three large boxes, along with a delivery truck speeding away. I also noticed a distinct overcast covering the sky. From the looks of it, it wouldn't be long before rain would arrive. It was probably a wise idea to grab the packages before they get soaked. "Dinner can wait" I proclaimed as I made my way to the door.... ...and promptly fell flat on my cushiony ass. "This body wasn't too good moving around, remember?" I thought to myself. Damn, it'll take forever like this. I had my fun cooking, but I needed another approach. Perhaps I should adapt to the circumstances, hmm? I swiped the MILF machine from its resting place, and tinkered away, creating the ideal body for such a taxing task. I flicked the start button as I relinquished control of my form and accepted the changes. The shifting in my body came in fast and strong. In an instant, my rich brown skin lightened to a golden hue from head to toe. My dark wavy hair shrunk down to a modest pixie cut, the locks lightening to an auburn tone. The next changes centered on my ample curves. Before my eyes, the pounds on my body melted away, leaving my body trim. Over the course of seconds, my muscles firmed up, bulging ever so slightly from under my taut skin. For once in my life, I had a six-pack! My body felt light and springy, like I could take on the world! Just then, my bones stretched out as I became taller. More than any other form before it, I could only estimate I was about a foot taller than normal, maybe even more! Looking in the mirror, I looked strange, a grown woman wearing a sundress several sizes too large for her, yet several sizes to short for me. To mend the issue, the sundress constricted around my robust body, becoming skin tight spandex.A split across my svelte waist gave way to two articles. A sports bra to keep my bosom from bouncing about, and a pair of cycling shorts that clung to my hips, defining every toned curve. A pair of sneakers formed over my feet to give me some support for all the running I could do. After spending most of my time as various women, I'd never felt as energetic as this! I leapt up in the air, astounded by the power in my legs. After a few minutes of some improvised exercising and examining every muscle I could flex, the sound of thunder in the distance reminded me of the packages, just waiting to be brought in. I sprinted out of the door and dashed down the stairs, ready for any challenges ahead. I was glad I chose this body for the job, because these boxes were huge! No doubt filled with heavy and expensive material that I bought a few weeks ago. I stacked each box on top of one another, and heaved them up, straining nearly every muscle I had. I could feel the burn stretch across my back as I climbed each flight of stairs. Had regular ol' Marty taken on this challenge, I doubt he would even make it past half a flight before taking a breather. Luckily for me, I knew that the pain was good, and it only increased my desire to see the task done. It took me less than a minute to reach my door, a feat not many could accomplish. It took Rob twice the time to bring up a measly up, so I felt good. Damn good. I patted down my body looking for my keys. This body didn't develop a purse to store my belongings in, as it probably would just get in the way. I reached in the tight waistband, with no result. Luckily, I dived my hand into my sports bra, and felt the cool metal touch my fingertips. I retrieved the keys, and let myself in, boxes in tow. From across the parking lot, I could hear the pitter-patter of rain as it descended from the sky. It's a good thing I brought these up in time, it looks like tonight was going to be one hell of a storm. I flopped the packages down in my bedroom, and galloped back to the table. All this hard work had only increased my hunger. It's too bad that I didn't quite know my own strength. In short, I fucked up. Slightly less short, I ruined my perfect pasta meal. As I was ready to chow down, I brought hand down to the table, catching the edge of the plate. Had I been anyone else, I plate would have stayed it's place unrustled. However, I was a woman with decades of working out under my belt, and send the plate splattering over my bare waist. Not a single noodle stayed on the plate. To reiterate, I fucked up big time. I was crushed! Everything was supposed to lead up to this perfect meal. Humiliated, I scraped what was left of the dish in the trash, and made for the shower. I needed some time to unwind, and besides, I was pretty sweaty under all that pasta sauce. I peeled the clothes away from my damp body, threw them aside, and made for the bathroom. With the water heating up, I entered the shower, the grease of the pasta dispersing in an instant, leaving my body smooth and moist. I couldn't help but run my hands up and down my body, exploring each and every inch of my athletic body. Despite the toned physique, I was still very much womanly. You couldn't tell under the strain of my sports bra, but I was still stacked. A perky d-cup sat upon my chest, it's shape defined by the muscles beneath it. My derriere was a wonder as well, a firm, defined rear streamlined from my hips, unlike Helen's fat ass that stuck out in every direction. I spent a good long time in that shower, and eventually emerged clean, but no more satiated than before. I wasn't just hungry, but I was also incredibly horny, and I knew just what to do. I dried myself off, and set forth to the living room with my hefty phonebook in tow. We've seen it all in our favorite nudie movies, the lucky pizza boy who stumbles upon the order of the night. I flipped through the yellow pages and settled on my favorite pizza joint. I dialed them up, waiting for them to pick up. "Hey, thanks for calling Leo's Pizza. How may I help you?" the phone squawked. It was time to put on a show. "Oh, hello," I said in a breathy voice "Could you deliver a large pizza? I feel like a large sausage would really hit the spot..." Did I just say that? Damn, I wasn't even trying to be subtle tonight. I guess I really wanted some dick tonight. "Uh, one large sausage pizza? Sure, that'll be fourteen dollars and sixty-two cents with tax" "Oh, thanks, that'd really hit the spot." I fooled around for a minute, flirting with the guy on the other line. I gave him my address, to which he'd come within 30 minutes or my pie was free. You can guess what I hinted at after that. Now the only problem was waiting. Minutes passed, and my hunger didn't satiate. It reminds me of the time I worked at a pizza joint, only I never ran into any milfs on my errands. To be honest, I was a little jealous of this fella. He's probably going to have the shift of his life, and I never got anything nearly this good. It was then I conjured up a brilliant idea! If I set out to do anything today, it was to test the limits of the MILF machine. Different forms for different outfits, jobs, whatever. One thing I hadn't done yet was probably the biggest risk I'd take with anything involving the MILF machine, and that's using it on someone else. I know that there's a trick to using it on others, and that lies in the option labeled "awareness". If I was clever, I could make someone unconsciously accept the changes, and act like nothing happened. Why not try it out? After all, I can't be expected to play the milf every time, right? I grasped the MILF machine in my athletic hands, and undid all the changes, reverting back to Marty. I clothed myself, and set the options for my biggest experiment yet. Sure enough, the pizza guy showed up in exactly 27 minutes (I was looking for any excuse for free pizza). Not even a thunderstorm would delay their delivery. I heard a knock a door, followed by a raspy teenaged voice. "Hey, the pizza's here!" he hollered from behind the door. Little did he know that I was on the other side, peering through the peephole, sizing him up. Just as I suspected. A pimply-faced white kid, probably still in high school. I glanced at the MILF machine, checking the settings I programmed whilst I waited. I didn't want to turn him into Helen, that would be weird. Well, weirder than turning a pizza boy into a milf, but you get the idea. For my selection I picked Asian for the race, shapely silicone for the body type, A librarian's outfit for clothes, and I tinkered around with the awareness settings. A setting entitled "UNCONSIOUS" sounded like the option I was looking for. I just hope it worked the way I suspected, I didn't want to end up in jail, or worse! "Hold on..." I replied, prodding the MILF machine's antenna through the mail slot. "I'll be there in a second!" I punctuated my statement with a quick press of the start button, activating the MILF machine. I gawked through the peephole to inspect the changes. As I expected, his body started to change. Dressed in a regular t- shirt/shorts/baseball cap uniform drenched by the rain, It was easily apparent that bit by bit he was becoming someone else. Just as I saw his height dwindle I heard the tell-tale bang from my land-lord's old jalopy mimic the thunderclaps as he pull into the apartment complex. I knew he was looking for any reason to give me the boot, just like doc did before me, so I should probably play this safer. "Hey! Come on in!" I beamed, leading the soon-to-be-milf into my apartment. As he walked through, I could tell he shrunk a foot or so, but he didn't seem to fret like I did my first time. I guess that to him, everything's going normally. Just as his skin darkened ever so slightly to a more asian tone, I zipped over to my closet, stashing the MILF machine behind a coat. When I read through the blueprints doc left for me, one of the notes mentioned targets becoming aware of the changes if they're aware of the MILF machine. I didn't want to take any risks here. When I turned to the pizza guy, his changes have become even greater, as his limbs became thinner, the moist clothes clinging to his skin. "So, you're pizza is gonna be $14.62." He said, the masculinity draining from his voice. "You gonna pay with cash or card?" "Oh yeah, just let grab my wallet..." I said as I stalled for time, waiting for his metamorphosis to complete. I watched as his waist caved in, slimming into a perfect waspish waist. At the same time, his hips pushed out, straining the sides of his shorts. I could tell the trajectory of his changes, so I decided to have a little fun. "Hey man, thanks for bringing this over. Hey, just set that on the floor over they, will ya?" I asked, gesturing over to the living room carpet. Sure enough, he turned around, walking over to the living room. His gait became more of a sexy sashay as his hips bulged out, a swing growing in his hips as they expanded. I noticed the hairs from his legs faded away, as his thighs became thick and womanly. He brought forth the pizza from its heated bag, and bent down at the waist to leave it. As he hunched over, I could see his two ass cheeks ripening from beneath his drab shorts. Like two balloons bloating out, his rear reached the width of his shorts, yet kept growing until his asscrack emerged from his waistband. When he turned around to collect his money, I glanced at his crotch. With his shorts close to bursting, he member was smashed up against his right thigh. However, I could see it recoiling to the base of his scrotum like a snail returning to its shell. Before I knew it, he had become a she. I reckoned we were about half-way through. From across the counter, I pulled fifteen dollars from my wallet. "Ah, this should cover the pie..." I observed, scanning her body for more changes. As she made her way over to the counter, I could see the budding of her breasts growing beneath her damp shirt. First, they were modest, but with each step they grew a cup or two. Before I knew it, the implants had kicked in, increasing them even further. The rain from outside had dampened her white t-shirt, removing it's opacity and putting her perky nipples on display. She stopped at the counter, resting her tits on it's surface. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that she was giving me a choice view down her cleavage. "Here, this is for you." I said, setting the money on the counter. She reached for it, her petit hand grazing my own. The grasped it daintily, careful not to harm her perfectly manicured nails. I looked at her face, expecting the last of her changes. I could see his skull shifting below her face, becoming more feminine. Her nose flattened out, his eyes took on a distinct almond shape, with her cheekbones rising. I focused my attention to her lips, admiring the changes there. I could see her lips tremble as the rose outwards, becoming ample. Just as any change, I noticed their mass augmenting as the collagen seeped into them. The normal-sized lips grew into an unnatural pout that just screamed sex. She caught me staring at her and gave me a sensual smile. All at once, her teenage youth faded away, the years adding up. Slight creases arose on her face, giving her a dignified look. It took me a few seconds before I realized I had been staring at her the entire time "O-oh! Sorry, I was drifting off there, about your tip..." I stammered, reaching for my wallet. "Don't worry," she cooed, backing away from the table "I think we can work something out..." her voice had lost all it's prior masculinity, and was replaced by a smooth feminine voice, complete with a slight Japanese accent. I noticed her cap, bulging ever so slightly. She could tell too, as she flipped her cap off, releasing a mass of silky black hair that descended from her scalp. The locks went down her back, and collected in a long hairdo with straight-cut bangs. I decided to ask her a few questions to test the extent of the MILF machine's change, see what she remembered prior to my experiment. "Hey, I didn't catch your name..." I questioned, taking a few steps towards her. "Oh, right. My name's Michiko. Yours is...?" she replied in a flirty tone. "Marty Campbell. Care to tell me a bit about yourself Michiko?" I walked over to the couch, plopping down on its cozy cushions. "Why sure, I'm in no hurry." She spent a few minutes just talking about herself as if she wasn't a normal pizza boy just moments earlier. Several details stayed the same, like her delivering my pizza, but she talked about it like it wasn't strange at all for her to do so. I guess the MILF machine mentally fills in the gap to convince the target to accept their changes, even if they don't know they're happening. While she gabbed on, her clothing changed to more appropriate attire for a woman of her figure. Before my eyes, the moisture on her body floated away in a wisp The shirt became thinner, shifting into a white button-up dress shirt. One by one, the buttons popped out, stopping at the perfect point to expose her deep cleavage. I could see beneath the transparent dress shirt a black bra form over her fake tits, lifting them up even further. The shorts' legs fused together, becoming a black skirt mid- thigh in length. What were regular sneakers for a pizza boy morphed into black heels just perfect for a woman like Michiko. Finally, a pair of fashionable glasses appeared over her face. The transformation was complete, and my experiment was a success. "So, about that tip..." she said, breaking my train of thought. "Oh yeah, I left it over there.." I said, getting up to retrieve my wallet. She caught me as I got up, and gently pushed me back to the couch. "I think we can work that out..." she said, her fingers grazing my groin. I tried to say something, but she cut me off by jamming her tongue down my throat. It briefly occurred to me that I was probably this forward as a MILF, just like I was with the cashier earlier, or like with Rob. Being on the other side of things was strange, but not unpleasant. I decided to enjoy being the guy this time. Michiko descended upon me, straddled on my lap. In this situation I was used to being the one with the plump lips, whereas her thick mouth nearly engulfed mine. The sheer mass of her lips allowed her to take charge as we kissed, as I could only react to her full, moist lips. My hands climbed from her thick ass, up to her enormous tits, disrobing her shirt apart button by button. In one smooth motion, she unhinged her bra and threw it across the room without leaving my embrace (a trick I too had learned as a milf) and guided my hands to her bare breasts. I sunk my fingers down into the soft flesh, feeling the silicone implants that gave them their mass. I twisted and pulled her nipples, feeling her soft moans resonate in my own mouth as we kissed. She pulled away from me only to remove her other articles of clothing. Her actions were elegant as if she made each movement as sexy as possible. I couldn't take my eyes off her as she dropped her skirt off her wide hips, putting her lacy thong on display. That too soon followed, as she stood before me in all of her nude milf glory. "Aren't you going to join me?" she teased with a sly grin. I was so enraptured that I forgot to remove my own clothes. I fumbled about with my clothes, nearly tripping over myself. "This sure was easier as Helen" I muttered, flinging my socks across the room. After I had completely disrobed, she pushed me to the couch, climbing over to my groin. Guiding my cock into her, she dropped down onto me, pleasure overcoming each of my senses. All I could do was moan and spasm as she bobbed up and down on my dick, her reaction as intense, if not greater than mine. I pulled her in closer, mashing our mouths together between frenzied breaths. Michiko shifted around on my groin, my dick experiencing every inch insider her. As ecstasy passed through every fiber of my being, I could feel my mind slipping away. My thoughts drifted to my first sexual encounter with Rob as Helen. Here I am, not in control, simply a participant in Michiko's lust. As Helen, we were together, Rob and I. It felt weird, but I think I may have fallen for Rob. My thoughts brought me back to that night, he and I on that lone mattress not 5 feet away from where I am now. His touch, his taste, his scent, it was all too much for me to contain. "Oh Rob!" I cried out, bringing me back to reality as Michiko mashed my genitals into hers. "Who's Rob?" she asked between frantic moans. "J-just forget about it!" I jammed my mouth over one of her erect nipples to stop myself from potentially saying anything else embarrassing. This went on for sometime until I could feel my climax coming. I gripped onto her hips, anchoring my fingers between the fat of her ass, and brought my dick into her with all that I had left. As I slid in and out, my pleasure grew until it reached its apex. "I-I think I'm coming Michiko!" I wailed. "Do it! Come inside me!" She replied, her voice wavering as she was reaching her climax as well. My tempo becoming quicker and quicker, all other sensations drowned out until finally I ejaculated. As if my energy was spent through my cock, I felt like I could just wilt away. I collapsed back onto the couch, as Michiko followed, her tits mashed onto my chest. We laid there, struggling to catch our breaths. Eventually, she peeled herself off of me, and proceeded to clothe herself. I did so as well. However, there was one last thing to test. I went for the closet, and waited for Michiko to turn away. I pulled out the MILF machine, ready to undo the changes. In an instant, the mature asian woman that made love to me not five minutes ago returned to the pimply teenager he once was, damp uniform and all. Time to test his memory. "Hey man, thanks for everything..." I said, trying to be as vague as possible. "No problem, you got the tip?" he retorted. "Huh?" "The tip, you know? The money for the delivery?" It was evident that all traces of Michiko have left his psyche along with his memories of being her. I picked out a twenty I had lying around for his tip. He looked confused, but grateful nonetheless. I sent him on his way. Once again, I was alone in my apartment. Just my pizza and me. My thoughts wandered once again to my time with Rob as Helen. When I was her, I truly felt alive, like everything came into place. And when I was with Rob... Once again I drifted away, lost in a daydream. Luckily, I caught myself before my pizza went cold. I picked up the pie, and brought it back to my bedroom. I observed the boxes from before; it's contexts just waiting to be released. I grabbed a slice of pizza in one hand, and the doc's MILF machine blueprints in the other. This was going to be a long night, I thought. But this was just another day in the life of Marty Campbell and his MILF machine. The end.