Revenge Of A Goddess, Part X free porn video

Revenge of a Goddess, Part X By Limbo's Mistress Chapter Nineteen It was the barking of the Douglas' dog that woke me up. I pulled the covers from over my head and winced, squinting at the strip of harsh sunlight that drifted in though the gap where the blinds were broken. Pushing my blonde hair out of my face, I sat up, rubbing at my eyes. For some reason, I felt a lot more tired than usual. I flopped back down on the bed, throwing my arm over my face and thinking about doing some very non-ASPCA to the yapping pit bull. Complaining to the owner wouldn't do a damned thing. Terry Douglas prided himself on the erroneous belief that Booger was the best guard dog in the entire park. Hell, the entire state, if the old codger was feeling his beers. However, I had a news flash, for old Terry. Booger could be bought off with nothing more significant than a piece of processed cheese. I sighed, wishing I was still asleep. I'd been having a really fucked up dream that I kind of wanted to see how it ended. In it, I'd made my girlfriend so angry that she cursed me into having to be one of those prissy rich bitches I had to deal with every damned school day. Only thing was, in the dream, I liked being one of them. Of course, reality had to throw in its two-cents, because the snooty spoiled version of me was a sexually overcharged slut. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Rolling over, I picked it up to see it was a text from Brad Jenkins. "Had a gr8t tym last nite. Repeat 2nite?" I smirked, shaking my head. Apparently, I'd made enough of an impression on the lacrosse captain that he was willing to blow off his girlfriend for another evening in my company. While I wouldn't normally bother with an attached guy, since that was just too much drama, I had just enough hate in my system to enjoy showing her long-time beau what a professional blow job felt like. Jennifer Walters was one of the snooty bitches who thought they were hot shit because they were cheerleaders. Big. Fucking. Deal. I tapped on my lip for a moment, then sent a reply. "Sure. Pick me up @ 8? Same place?" A smile spread across my face as I wondered what sort of excuse he was going to give the mega-bitch this time? I relaxed in bed, listening to the sounds of the park slowly come to life on a Saturday morning. Finally, around nine, I climbed out of bed. I grabbed a clean pair of panties and a bra from the rickety dresser, then headed into the bathroom. I turned on the water, stripped out of my dirty things, and climbed under the spray. I nearly screamed as the icy water slammed into my skin. I spun around and twisted the "H" knob to the maximum. The temperature didn't change. Balling up one fist, I pounded on the shower wall. "Dammit, Darrin," I said as my teeth began to chatter. "You didn't pay the fucking gas bill again." Five years ago, my father had been the CFO of one of the largest firms in Taborville. Then mom died, and Daddy Dearest decided to cope with his loss by developing a cocaine habit. It might have started out as an occasional line or two, usually when he was feeling down, but within six months, he was enjoying the Columbian nose-candy a couple of times each day. As expected, he started spending more and more of his generous salary on bankrolling his addiction. On the anniversary of becoming a widower, Darrin Coltrane attempted to wire money to pay the corporation's quarterly taxes while completely shitfaced. Instead, he typed in the wrong account number and sent nearly two million dollars to a bank in Switzerland. He was out the door, unemployed with a box in hand, faster than you could say "major fuckup." Now, when he was sober enough to think clearly, he moonlighted as a bookkeeper for a couple of shady groups in Burnside. As long as his thinking isn't clouded by cheap whiskey or a hit of meth, he's actually a pretty competent accountant. If some dealer wants his cash laundered, Dear Old Dad can make it clean enough for a nun to douche with. Problem was, he wasn't sober all that often. Which created a regular occurrence of negative cash flow. When that happened, important shit such as utilities, tended to get cut off. I washed as quickly as I could, trying to ignore the way my jaw ached from the strain of keeping my molars from rattling loose. As soon as I had all of the sweat, grime, and leftover Brad off my body, I shut off the water and jumped out of the tiny stall. I dried off, then slipped into my clean underthings. A lot of shit might fall by the wayside due to my father's inability to stay sober, but I always made sure that I had the money, or other resources, to buy the nice stuff I wanted. Wrapping the towel around my middle, so anyone looking in the trailer's windows wouldn't get a free show, I stomped down the narrow hallway to the bedroom on the opposite side of the structure. Throwing it open, I found Darrin in bed, snoring his ass off, with his arm draped across some stringy-haired brunette skank. Several empty cans of discount beer littered the nightstand and a couple of roaches had been abandoned in the ashtray. I walked around to the side of the bed, glaring down at both of them. Part of me wanted to grab the lamp sitting nearby and bash Darrin over the head with it. Fucker can't bother to pay the bills, or put decent food on the table, but he's a goddess-damned playboy when it came to providing a good time to some West Lake Drive whore. I balled up my hand into a fist, took a deep breath, then left the room. Waking him up just so I could scream at him about being a big fucking loser was futile. He already knew he was a failure as a father. And he knew that I knew. What else was there to say about it? Back in my own room, I dried my long blonde hair, styled in some soft waves with the curling iron, then applied a couple of light touches of makeup. Luckily, fate hadn't completely kicked me in the ovaries when she dumped on my family. She'd at least come through on the body department. My complexion might not be completely flawless, since I often had to cover up the occasional blemish, and my teeth weren't perfectly straight despite their whiteness. My hair, at least, was a perfect golden blonde that didn't require chemical color enhancing. And my body was, to put it modestly, smoking fucking hot. Less than a year ago, I'd been worried I might have to attach a tire pump to my chest and give nature a jumpstart. However, when puberty decided it was time to finally fire up the engines, that bitch had punched the nitrous. Seemingly overnight, I went from being flat as a piece of plywood to a jiggling, wiggling pair of incredibly firm D- cups. My ass, not wishing to get shown up by my new boobs, decided to join in the fun. Every time I looked in the mirror, I couldn't help but giggle at the fact that while I might be only sixteen, I had a figure grown women would kill for. I pulled on a faded jean skirt, paired it with a dark red baby tee that hugged my twin assets like a second skin, and topped the ensemble off with a pair of white cowboy boots. Crossing to the dresser, I pulled open one of the smaller drawers and dug around inside until my hand came out holding a tampon box. The jumble of plastic applicators inside the blue carton held something far more valuable than cotton on a string. I pulled one of the purple tubes out of the box. After separating the halves, I removed a couple of twenty dollar bills rolled up inside it. I shoved the cash into the front pocket of the skirt, recapped the applicator, and put everything back where it belonged. I'd learned long ago that Daddy was willing to look almost anywhere to seek out hidden cash to fuel his needs. My underwear drawer, beneath my mattress, in my purse. No place was safe from his nose for sniffing out money. However, he still suffered from that time-honored male tradition of completely avoiding anything at all having to do with a woman's menstrual cycle. I made a mental reminder count all the cash in the box the next time Daddy was out of the house, so I could figure out where I stood financially. The tips at Hot Bodies had been really good lately, but Charlie's lawyer, some silver fox dude named Marcus, warned him the sheriff might come sniffing around soon. Granted, a lot of Charlie's illegal shit would get overlooked with the proper amount of palm- greasing, but having a sixteen-year-old taking off her clothes for money wasn't one of them. If the boss decided that he wanted me to take a vacation until the heat died down, I wouldn't have any choice by to comply. Of course, the way I'd gone from mediocre, dirt-poor high school sophomore to a popular, high-demand stripper was humorous. About three weeks after my boobs started growing, I rode along with Daddy to take the tramp he'd spent the night with back to her car. She was a dancer at the seedy strip club, and had mentioned in an off- handed manner that I could make a ton of cash doing what she did. Especially with my looks and body. "Wear that school uniform of yours, braid your hair into some pigtails, and, girl, you would have all those horny old men eating out of your hands. Daddy had told her to stop putting ideas in my head. He said that his little girl wasn't going to strut around on a stage in her panties just so a bunch of drunk perverts could stuff dollars in her waistband. However, I decided that the only person who was going to have a say in what I could and could not do was me. So, the next evening, I got all dolled up and caught a ride to the far end of Burnside to speak with the owner about giving me a chance do. At first, Charlie didn't want to play ball. He said that just because I could make myself look like I was over eighteen with the right application of cosmetics, that didn't mean he wouldn't be in a shitload of trouble for letting a minor strip in his club. It took over an hour of begging and pleading, as well as a rather lengthy blowjob, to get him to change his mind. That first night, when I came home with nearly five hundred dollars in cash, Daddy's moral compass had a sudden shift. He agreed that I could work two evenings a week and both weekend nights so long as I gave him a third of the money I earned. "To help pay the bills and shit," he'd said. I checked my appearance one last time, then shoved my phone into my back pocket before exiting my room. Darrin had finally gotten out of bed and was sitting at the rickety kitchen table, sipping on a cup of coffee as he tried to recover from all the fun he'd had the night before. When he saw how I was dressed, a frown crossed his face. "You going out somewhere?" he asked. I rolled my eyes, grabbing a cup of joe for myself. "No, Daddy. I'm just now getting home. It was a long night of prostituting myself down at Zed's truck stop." His frown deepened. "Don't get smart with me, Stephanie. I'm not in the mood for your sass or bullshit this morning." I sighed. Starting a fight would only delay my departure. "Yes, Daddy. I am going out to meet Gina and Karen at the mall." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The mall? You got money for shopping?" There was a hungry look in his eyes. "How much?" I shook my head. "No, sir," I said, staring at him. "You got your cut the other night. Not my fault you spent it all on wining and dining some tramp." "Watch your mouth, Stephanie," he said, pointing his finger at me. "I'm still your father, you know." "No, Darrin. You're just the adult I have to live with for the next twenty-one months. You stopped being my father the day it fell on me to make sure we had the necessities to live." I set the half-drank cup down on the side of the sink and walked over to him. "A real father would be more concerned about how his innocent little girl was making money and less about getting a portion of the proceeds." I leaned down to look into his eyes. "The man Mom used to call her husband would give a shit or two about the hours and company his daughter kept." "Leave your mother out of this, Steph. I told you I wasn't in the mood." I stood up, looking down at him. Once upon a time, I'd worshipped the broken man sitting there. When I was eleven, I thought my father was the greatest person on earth. But I guess that just proves that you never really know who someone is until they're at their rock bottom. For a second or two, we glared at each other. Then he turned his face away, looking out the window. I snorted, then turned around and walked out the front door. Descending the rotting wooden steps, I cut across the dead grass that compromised our front yard and down the gravel drive of the trailer park. A couple of the residents waved as I went past. Most of them were older men. A couple of them I knew rather well. There was just something about a mature guy that got me all hot and bothered. On an average night at Hot Bodies, I would have to take more than a few breaks to sneak off to the bathroom and frig myself to take the edge off. All those older men drooling over my half-naked form always left me with a raging inferno between my legs. Then it was either use my hand, or fuck one of them in a private room. Charlie had made it abundantly clear he wasn't too keen on me doing that. Said it was too close to real whoring for his comfort level. The last trailer at the end of the drive, belonged to the park's owner. Mildred Stanton was a fat old bitch with a mean streak a mile wide. She'd just as soon cut someone as give them the time of day. She hated men, dogs, cats, the weather, politicians, gas prices, and Arabs. In spite of all that, she had the most hate for other women, particularly pretty young things such as myself. Mildred had a son named Greg, who didn't hate nearly as much stuff as his mom. And he didn't hate pretty young things at all. Not even a little bit. When I reached the Stanton's trailer, I noticed Mildred's beat-up Pontiac was gone. Probably to the Sav-a-Lot down the highway. Greg's 1975 Camaro, although, was present. I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. The relatively handsome twenty-five-year-old answered it. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin as he looked me over for a moment, then opened the door to let me inside. "Stephanie Coltrane," he said, smirking. "What brings you to my door this early on a Saturday morning?" "I need a ride to the mall," I said, putting my purse down on the coffee table. "I see," he said, continuing to stroke his chin as if in deep contemplation. "I suppose I could take time out of my busy day to accommodate you." He smiled down at me. "Standard fare, of course." "Of course," I said, going down to my knees on the dirty carpet. My fingers worked the button and zipper on his jeans, and a few seconds later, my head bobbed up and down on Greg's rather generous cock. Sure, I could have given him some gas money in exchange for the ride. However, sucking him off served two purposes. First, it allowed me to keep all my cash to use on myself. Secondly, Greg made the cutest little whimpering noises just before he shot his load down my throat. Thirty minutes after I'd swallowed the last drop, Gregg pulled the extremely loud muscle car into the parking lot near mall's south entrance. Idling beside the curb, he placed his hand on my bare leg, massaging my upper thigh. "Need me to come back for you later?" he asked, smirking. "Maybe we can go somewhere and have some drinks and be alone." "No thanks," I said, removing his hand and climbing out of the Camaro. "I've already got that covered." He shrugged. "If things change, call me. I can teach you a bunch of new tricks." I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Later." Boys. That's why I prefer older men. None of this arrogant passive- aggressive shit. An older man, one who knows what he wants and takes it, doesn't have time for stupid flirting. Goddess, just thinking about older men, like Marcus Davenport, was getting me hot. I ignored the slow burn between my legs and strolled across the lot to the double doors leading inside. As I went through them, I heard the Camaro's tires squeal in protest as Greg punched down on the gas pedal. Just like a child. Gina and Karen had said they would probably be hanging around the food court on the second floor. I made a bee-line to the nearest escalator. A couple of guys, in their forties and shopping with their wives, pause and gesture for me to get on first. I flash them both a warm smile, ignoring the women standing next to them. Stepping onto the rising platform, I put one foot on a higher step than the other, leaning to the side so that my hip juts out, emphasizing the way the jean skirt hugs my ass. I don't have to look back to know the guys are trying to stare at my bare legs and round bottom without getting caught. If I was to turn around to see, they would quickly avert their eyes, and I'd probably draw a comment or two from the ladies. Instead, I remained leaning in a casual, absent-minded way. Teasing men is so much fun. Though, pleasing the right ones is always better. On the second floor, I step off the escalator and turn in the direction of the food court. A few seconds later, I hear one of the jealous wives call out to the men. "Hey jerks, the department store is this way." Unable to resist the urge, I glance back over my shoulder. Both of the men had started to follow me, rather than paying attention to where they were supposed to be heading. When they see the smile on my face, theirs turn a beet color and they turn around. One of the women is glaring at the men, the other is staring hard at me. "Tough shit, you old crone," I murmur to myself. "Not my fault your man knows quality ass when he sees it." The food court is a wide-open area with several dozen tables arranged in the center and food items of every type being sold around the perimeter. I stopped right at the entrance way, scanning the spot where my friends and I usually hang out. None of the tables has Gina or Kathy sitting at it. Guess I got here before they did. However, before I can pull out my phone to call them, I hear the sound of several feet coming to a stop behind me. "Oh my gosh," says an amused voice dripping with venom. "Did you guys know the mall was having a White Trash Sale?" "I didn't," answers another girl. "The selection looks cheap, but I hear the prices are low." I slipped my phone back into my pocket and turn around. Standing behind me are the core group of bitches who think they own Taborville High. Jennifer Walters, Jordan Kates, Sarah Stroup, Cori Johnson, and Kat Davenport. They all look like they just heard the funniest joke their pea brains could remember. Except Davenport. She looks like she's not even sure where she is. Once upon a time, I was friends with most of those girls. Well, maybe not friends so much as we were in the same social circles. Of course, that was before Darrin fell in love with imported powder. After we moved to the slums of Burnside, I hadn't ever expected to see any of them again. However, due to getting into a fight with a girl at the end of freshman year at Burnside High, the school board had reassigned me to Taborville. The first day had seen the fucking brat pack make a decision to harass me every chance they got. Bad news for them, I gave as good as I got. "Hey," I said, smiling. "Glad I ran into you guys. I just wanted to remind you all that the Stupid Sluts Parade is next week. Make sure you all show up on time, okay?" Jennifer Walters rolled her eyes. "You're so hilarious," she deadpanned. I wanted so badly to tell her that her boyfriend thought I was pretty damned entertaining. So much, in fact, that he wanted seconds. But that would probably lead to Brad cancelling our date. I figured I only needed to go down on him a few more times to coerce him into buying me some shit to keep quiet. No way was I going to fuck up a future gain for a tiny dig now. "Shouldn't you be off sucking someone's dick?" Cori snapped. "I was, but your dad finished early and asked me to give you some pointers." I winked. "Apparently your skills need major work." Her mouth dropped open and a reddish tinge appeared on her cheeks. "My skills are just fine," she replied. Then her face reddened as she realized what she'd just said. "You fucking whore," she spat. I shrugged. Three months of dealing with the name-calling and taunts every day had left me mostly immune to their barbs. Mostly. "Tell your brother I said 'hi'," I said. His sister might be a bitch, but Tony Johnson was a fucking dreamboat. If only he were about twenty years older, then he'd be perfect. I glanced back at Davenport. The way she was just staring at me gave me the heebies. Like she was trying to look into my soul or some shit like that. Deciding that I spent enough time listening to Raiderette crap during the week, I gave them all the finger and turned around to walk off. "Don't trip and fall on any dicks," Sarah chimed. "And make sure you're taking your pills," Jennifer added. "Someone like you should never get pregnant." As I walked off, I could feel tears trying to well up in my eyes. I wasn't going to let them get to me. Not today. I'd already lost track of the number of times I'd hid in a bathroom stall, bawling my eyes out as the endless stream of insults and sneers pounded me repeatedly. If they actually saw how badly they'd stung me, I'd never hear the end of it. The weekends were supposed to be my time to forget about the uglier, more real state of my life. I should be hanging with my friends, sneaking off to the woods behind the mall to smoke a couple of joints, then head to the club where a few shots of Jack from the bottle Marie kept in her bag would help me get through an evening of gyrating and pole-riding. Instead, I was racing off to find some place where I could calm down and recompose myself. I rounded the corner and spotted a new store that had apparently just opened. It seemed to be one of those tiny establishments where they sold bangles, bracelets, and other assorted fun jewelry. While I could have sworn the spot it occupied had been the entrance to the restrooms, I found the sign over the doorway to be of greater interest. "Charms Be We," I whispered. "Cute and catchy." I crossed the floor to the entrance, placed my hand on the door, and pushed it open to step inside. The door closed behind me with a little clicking sound, and I stared at the nearly empty shelves lining the cavernous room. There was no way a space as big as this could possibly fit in the spot allotted by the stores on either side. It was completely impossible. "No," said a voice from somewhere nearby. "Not impossible. Just really difficult." I walked further into the store and spotted what looked to be a service counter on the far side of the room. A single doorway stood on the employee side of the barrier, leading apparently into some type of stockroom. "Hello?" I asked, approaching the counter. From the doorway came a woman in a tattered old bathrobe. She had silver hair that hung down over her shoulders, and round, wire-rimmed spectacles on the end of her pert nose. She was adorable, in a matronly sort of way. I had no way of making an accurate guess as to how old she might be. It could have been anywhere from fifty to eighty. Her eyes, however, were bright, alert, and extremely amused. "Hello, Stephen," she said, tightening the belt holding the frayed robe closed before leaning on the counter. I blinked, then looked down at myself before groaning. "Trailer trash? Seriously, she turned me into trailer trash?" The woman chuckled. "Doesn't have much of an imagination, does she?" "Who?" I asked, trying to tug the too-short skirt down in vain. "Nadine," came the response. "That's always the give them much power and all the interesting creativity goes right out the window." "Wait," I said, pointing at her. "How do you know Nadine? For that matter, who the hell are you?" She nodded. "It's more like I know of her. However, I do know the being who empowered her rather well. I was there when Nadine was given her abilities, so I decided to sneak in and see what she's been doing with them." She shook her head. "With all the changes and alterations, I'm surprised no one in this place has gone insane." She chuckled again. "I'm glad you find this amusing," I growled. "It's not as much fun for the rest of us." She waved her hand. "I wouldn't worry too much about the rest of this world's inhabitants. They could all grow a second head and, to them, it would be just another Saturday." I tilted my head to the side. "What did you mean by 'this world's inhabitants'?" She winked at me with a smile. "Caught that, did you? Apparently, you're a lot smarter than you look." "That's not a stretch," I said, gesturing at my expansive chest. "I look like a walking wet dream." "True enough." She said, giving me an appreciative stare. "What your ex-girlfriend received was the power to create and rule her own universe. It was to be a way for her to keep one specific soul contained for all eternity. "She gestured at the door behind me. "The world out there isn't the real one. It's a construct. A pocket universe that consists of the town of Taborville, Illinois along with all of the people she has created to populate it." A gleam appeared in her eye. "With the exception of two souls she brought in from the outside." "So, that's not the real world out there?" "Nope," she answered. "Can you take me back to the real world? I mean, Kat and I?" She sighed. "Afraid not, my dear boy. See, I can't really interfere, since my powers here are limited to manifestation of my shop. And even the ability to maintain that is quickly running out." I hung my head. "I see." She reached out and patted me on the shoulder. "Don't look so glum," she said. "For one, it's not a good look on someone as pretty as you. And secondly, because all power, big and small, comes with rules." I looked back up at her. "Rules?" She nodded. "Your ex might have made a perfect prison to hold you, but she designed it with certain aspects. These aspects are as much a part of this world now as the foundation of a house. She cannot change them without risking the whole thing coming down." "That's not going to do me any good when she's the one with all the goddess-like abilities." She shrugged. "I'm not offering any advice, Stephen. All I wish to do is impart knowledge." She looked at her bare wrist. "Now, I'm sorry to rush off, but if I stay any longer, Nadine will begin to realize I'm here." She gestured at herself. "Even this disguise won't fool her for long." She waved her hand, and I felt myself being dragged backward to the door. "Good luck," she said as the door opened to let me exit. I found myself standing in front of the tiled alcove leading to the bathrooms. I stood there for several seconds, trying to convince myself that what I'd just seen was some type of waking nightmare. Already, I could feel Stephanie climbing her way back up into my mind. Soon she'd be back to her new, old self. Just a low-class tramp shaking her tits for money and sucking dick for transportation. "Stephanie?" I turned around to see Kat Davenport standing nearby. She looked at me with a concerned expression. However, there was something. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Kat might be one of those fucking Raiderettes, but I couldn't remember a single time she'd joined in on their taunts. Hell, I might have gone so far as to say that she'd been the only one even remotely nice to me. She took a step closer to me. "Stephen? Are you there?" My legs nearly gave way beneath me. "Kat." I grabbed the wall for support The jarring back and forth between identities made me light- headed. The otherr girl rushed over, slipping her arm around my waist and using her hip to keep me upright. She half-led, half-carried me to a nearby bench, setting me down gently on the wooden surface. Then she squatted down in front of me. "Jesus, I was terrified. After you punched Nadine, everything went to black." She glanced around for a moment, then looked back up at me. "I woke up this morning, back to being a female. Then I was hit with all these memories of being friends with Jennifer and Jordan and the rest of them." She placed her hand on my leg. "And memories of the new you. This you." I wiped at the wetness in my eyes. "I hate this," I said. "I should have just given to what Nadine wanted the first time. At least then I'd be happy." "You think you'd be happy being an oversexed teenager offering her body to a slew of older men?" she asked. I shrugged. "That part hasn't changed. I'm still just as much a slut as before. Only now, I'm a white trash slut instead of a rich, preppy one." "You are not giving up, Stephen," Kat ordered. "We are going to resist until we find her weakness, then we're going to beat that bitch down." Someone behind me giggled. Kat and I turned to see Nadine standing there, a huge smile on her face. She was wearing a black leather skirt, dark red corset, and knee-high red leather boots with a silver stiletto heel. There was a wicked-looking riding crop in her hand. "You two think you can beat me, huh? What makes you think I won't just turn you both into nymphomaniac sluts with barely functioning IQs and send you off to your new lives?" I narrowed me eyes at her. Her threatening Kat made my blood boil. Suddenly, the conversation with the woman in the store that was no longer there, came back to me. Specifically, certain parts about rules. "You can't," I said, continuing to glare at Nadine. "I mean, sure, you can turn me into whatever you like. But you can't really too much to Kat. A few cosmetic changes, but nothing too drastic. Am I right?" "Is that so?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Enlighten me, Stephen." "You were only supposed to bring one soul into this little hellhole of yours. Me. But you got greedy and jealous, so you brought Kat along for the ride. Perhaps it was to torture me by hurting the woman I love. Maybe it was just because you wanted to hurt her for replacing you in so many ways." The smile on Nadine's face faltered just a bit. "Goddamn wizard," she muttered softly. "Plus," I said as I slowly stood up and faced her. If that woman had been the slightest bit wrong about her observations, this was going to get ugly fast. "You set up a couple of rules to this place. Rules I'm sure you whipped up on a whim." I shook my head. "Very amateurish of you, Nadine." Now her smile was completely gone. She glared at me. "I think we'll start over. Maybe a little less sexy this time? Or maybe just more altogether? Like, two hundred pounds more?" I suddenly felt as if I were being squeezed. Glancing down, I saw my flat, toned tummy begin to swell out against the tight material of the t-shirt. Great, she made me pregnant. Then I realized my arms were stretching the sleeves and my ass was attempting to break free of the skirt. Looking at my hands, I watched as the fingers plumped up like sausages. I wasn't getting pregnant. I was getting fat. Really fat. "Fuck it," I growled as I felt my beautiful face begin to take on a pudgy round shape. It was now or never. "I get to make changes, too," I spat at the angry deity. "You created that rule, remember. Changing something about someone. Well, right now, I want goddess powers, too." Nadine's furious expression froze. Then she began to cackle loudly. I glanced from her to Kat, wondering if I'd misjudged how to play the game. "Oh, that's funny," Nadine said, still laughing. "Do you think me so stupid as to give you the ability to make changes to yourself? No, no, no. I said you could make changes to someone once a day. That means, someone else, darling." I sighed, slumping my shoulders. Then I looked back at up at my ex and grinned through my flabby jowls. "Fine, then. I wish Katherine Jane Davenport had your goddess powers." Chapter Twenty For what seemed to be an eon and a half, time stood still. The moment after the words left my mouth, I saw Nadine's eyes widen with surprise. It was extremely clear that she'd never considered I might take her "gift" and use it to best her. Not that her lack of foresight was a shock or anything. When we'd been together, I'd come to realize that planning ahead, further than the next ten minutes, was a skill lost upon her. The air around the three of us hummed with power, but the rest of the mall was a quiet as the deepest part of outer space. Kat gasped softly, drawing my attention away from the sociopathic deity who'd started this mess. For a second, I wasn't sure what was happening. There was a soft white glow around Kat's body, like her own personal aurora borealis. Then, with a sluggish pace that rapidly increased, my girlfriend began to age. The youthful innocence of high school fell away, replaced by the maturity of college. She only grew an inch or two taller, but her chest expanded until the mounds beneath them almost rivaled the pair I'd been carrying around for nearly a week. Her clothes morphed from a trendy skirt and blouse to the jeans and t-shirt she'd been wearing the night Nadine intruded on our romantic evening. She shook her head, looked down at her returned twenty-nine-year-old body, then brought her gaze up, smiling at me. "I love you," she said before turning to face Nadine. "Okay, bitch. Now it's on!" I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I mean, I've never had a front row seat to a battle between two goddesses before. I almost expected to see lightning bolts raining down from above and swarms of locusts or something. At the very least, there should have been some sort of background music. Instead, the two of them just glared at each other for several long seconds. Then Kat reeled back as if she'd been punched in the face, staggering a few steps to the side. She stayed up, however, and once she was steady, cocked her head to the side as she looked at Nadine. "So, that's how we're going to play it, huh?" I looked between the two women, trying to ignore the tiny voice in my head telling me to run away to someplace safe. To scamper away and find a hole to crawl into. Of course, since I recognized the voice as belonging to the blonde bimbo normally in command, I chose to ignore it. Whatever the outcome of this fight, I was going to face it like a man. Well, a man trapped in the body of a three hundred and ten pound teenage girl. An unusual and yet, familiar, sound from the floor below caught my attention. Waddling as fast as my overburdened knees would carry me, I went to the railing running along the edge of the opening. I looked down to the first floor of the mall, staring for a few seconds, trying to wrap my minds about what was taking place below. It was as if PornHub had rented the place out to shoot a realistic reenactment of one of Caligula's parties. Everyone that I could see from my limited vantage point above was in the process of fucking, or being fucked, by someone else. And the pairings and double pairings, didn't seem to follow any particular pattern. Men had their wives or girlfriends bent over display cases, busy stuffing their holes with huge slabs of man-meat. A few women groped and licked their shopping companions. A group of older kids, probably college age, were spread out between the tiny kiosks, rutting with wild abandon as if attempting to set a fornication speed record. Quite a few of the louder voices that made their way to my ears begged for the male who was boffing them silly to be sure to knock them up really good. Of course, that was the majority of the activities. In other cases, two men were busy sucking each other off. One grandfatherly gentleman was getting his asshole drilled by an over-muscled gym head while he was busy lapping at the exposed pussy of a teenage sales clerk. Craning my head a little, I spotted two girls from my Geometry class engaged in a classic sixty-nine. The funny part was that I'd always suspected them of being gay. All the sex taking place around me made my brain fog up a bit, and it took me a minute or two to realize I was rubbing at my sex hidden between the two giant logs that had become my legs. If I was going to frig myself proper, I would need a sturdy bench or something so I could sit down. Falling over would probably put a dent in the tile floor. I glanced over to see that the fight between Kat and Nadine was still going on. Nadine's head snapped back, and she wiped at her nose. The back of her hand came away with blood on it. Kat looked like she was trying to win a heavyweight fight, defuse a bomb, and tap dance all at the same time. Despite all that, she also looked like she was beginning to get her second wind. The invisible nature of the fight bothered me. Was the combat taking place somewhere I couldn't see? Like another dimension? Nadine spread out her arms, and instantly the moans and cries of passion around the mall increased in volume. She started to glow with her own aurora. As if getting some type of turbo boost from all the sex taking place around us. "Kat!" I yelled over the din of carnal acts. "She's drawing power from the sex." I continued to rub my own dripping slit. The jean skirt was bunched around my hips like a pornographic belt. Nadine turned her head to glare at me. "No, lover. I think you've done enough damage for one day. Time to put that fat mouth of yours to better use." Before I could respond, I felt a hand land on my shoulder and turn me around. My thoughts froze when I saw Brad Jenkins standing in front of me, naked as the day he was born. "Hey, Stephanie," he said, giving me a wink. "How about a blow job?" I nodded numbly, going down to my knees. Brad's cock was already as hard a steel pole before I could finish lowering my girth to the floor. The slobber rolling from between my oversized lips tried to run down my chins, but I wiped it away with the back of my hand. Then I opened my mouth and leaned forward to start sucking. A shot of cum down my throat, that's what I needed to clear my head. "Oh, I don't think so!" Kat yelled from somewhere far, far behind me. Then the gleaming, beautiful cock that had just grazed my lips was gone. As was the boy to whom it belonged. I glanced around, frantic. I needed to get some dick in me. Somehow. Needed it like I need air. I knew I wouldn't be able to convince any of the men around to fuck me. Not when I looked like Jabba the Hutt's little sister. But I could still give head. A cock in the mouth was worth two in the pussy. I giggled at that thought. I looked around for an unoccupied male that could give me what I needed. The first thing I spotted, however, was a pile of arms and legs, writhing and groaning like some multi-species creature from a horror show. I had to stare for a bit before I realized it was the rest of the Raiderette squad. Cori was lying on the floor, licking away at the apex of Jordan's legs. I didn't consider myself an expert on eating pussy by any stretch of the imagination, but it sure looked like Cori was doing her damnedest to get to the gooey center of her friend's Tootsie Pop. Sarah Stroup was on the floor as well, working her own tongue around Cori's womanhood. Jennifer Walters, however, wasn't a part of the triad of lesbian activity. She had managed to locate a man to give her the plowing she needed. Of course, the man in question was Reggie Kincaid, one of the school's custodians. He was old enough to be her grandfather, but that didn't slow him down one bit. Jennifer lay on her back on top of one of the decorative planters, legs spread as wide as they could go. Reggie had his hands wrapped around her upper thighs, using the toned limbs as a sort of guiding star. Each time he slammed his rod into Jennifer's tiny body, the cheer captain screamed for him to do it again. After the sixth time, she let out an erotic screech, and began to vibrate with the force of her orgasm. I considered climbing back to my feet and going over to see if Reggie wanted a second hole to fill. However, the thought of actually getting back onto my feet and lugging all my weight across the corridor gave me a headache. I was willing to do whatever anyone wanted, but they would have to make the journey to me. With an unhappy sigh, I risked looking over at the goddess' mostly-even battle. Kat was looking a bit tired. Her hair was slightly disheveled and there were dark circles already forming under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in a month. Nadine, by contrast, looked like she'd just come from the spa. "You might have some power, Katherine," Nadine spat. "But I've got everyone in the whole damned down fucking their brains out. They won't stop until I let them. As long as they are awake, their lust fuels me. Each orgasm is like a jolt of energy. Give up now and I'll let you leave. The same offer as before." "Oh?" Kat said, cutting her eyes over at me. "But Stephen has to stay, right? No pardon for him?" Nadine shrugged one shoulder. "He hasn't finished paying for all he's done in his life. I've got lots of naughty punishments in mind for him." She glanced my way and smiled. "I couldn't let him go even if I wanted." My head continued to spin around out of control. It was like I was on a roulette wheel. The red slots were Stephanie, the black ones me. But the wheel just wouldn't stop turning and the ball kept bouncing in and out of random slots. Stephanie just wanted sex. Oral, vaginal, anal. She didn't care. I wanted Kat to leave. Get away from my crazy ex and have a life free from being the plaything of a demented mind. Kat's hands balled into fists. For a second, I thought I saw ... something flash in the air between them. However, the only result seemed to be Nadine's hair fluffing as if encountering a light breeze. She laughed again, turning back to her opponent. "I take that to be you declining my offer?" Kat's chest rose and fell with the deep breaths she took. Then she pointed at Nadine. "Sure, you've got the serious mojo flowing. But that doesn't change the fact that you lost this fight the moment you brought us here. This was supposed to be your little getaway, wasn't it? You were going to bring Stephen here and it would be just the two of you forever. Your powers would make sure he was always faithful. Always devoted." She shook her head. "You sold your soul for the chance to have what you considered a perfect life." Nadine growled. "I tried to explain that to him that evening. But he chose to believe me insane. Now, instead of the paradise I could have given him, it will be his hell. Forever." Kat frowned, then sighed. "It's over." Nadine and I both whipped our heads around to look at her. I think I realized the change around us before the crazy goddess. The moans, groans, whimpers, and cries of passions released was gone. In its place was a soft, uneven humming sound. I spun around a quickly as my bulk would allow and saw the naked and nearly naked bodies were exactly where they had been. Only instead of trying to cum their brains out, every single one of them was asleep. Jennifer Walters was even snoring like a chainsaw, lying across the planter with Reggie still inside her. The old man was prone on the teen cheerleader's chest, resting comfortably on her large breasts. "What?" Nadine screamed as she glanced around. "Yeah," Kat said as she slowly walked toward Nadine. "You should probably stop setting yourself up for failure. I mean, telling me that you get your power from everyone having sex, knowing that I couldn't override your control. Sex that, according to you, would continue as long as they were awake." I laughed. "You couldn't make them stop fucking, but you could make them pass out." "Exactly," Kat said as she stopped before Nadine. "I'm not fueled by lust. Probably because it wasn't cheap arousal that gave me my power." She turned to look at me. "It was love. And right now, the only person awake loves me." Nadine shook her head. "You can't do this. I've suffered for too long. Years. Years in that mental ward just biding my time until I could get my revenge." "I'm sorry," I said, trying to get back to my feet. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Nadine. I had been planning on breaking up with you, and your sudden claim to having the powers of a god was the excuse I needed." "You ... don't love me?" I didn't answer. I think my expression was more answer than she needed. Kat gestured to the left. Standing there was a shimmering portal of silver light. "Go home, Nadine," she said. "Take my offer of letting you go." She leaned closer. "Because I won't give you a cock or turn you into a slut if you stay. I will just erase you." "This is my world. I gave my soul to make it." "No," Kat said, sounding more tired than she looked. "You used Stephen's soul to create this world. And bringing me in it with you only served to weaken your bond with it more." Nadine looked at me. "Stephen?" "Go," I said. "I hate what you've done. To me. To Kat. To yourself. But I don't want you to die." She wiped at her eyes and looked back to Kat. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then shook her head. Turning around she walked over to the wriggling portal and stepped through it without a single look back. "She's gone? Really gone?" I asked, waddling over to Kat. The remaining goddess plopped down on the bench we'd been using earlier. She slumped sideways and took several deep breaths. "Yes," she answered, sounding more than a little winded. "Though I thought she was going to want to continue fighting. I didn't have another round left in me." I sat down beside her, trying not to squish her with my more than generous girth. "So, it's over? We can go back home?" She frowned, leaning against me. "No. When Nadine created this world, she used your soul to do so. If you were to leave, you'd just cease to exist." I nodded. From the last bits of their conversation, along with the stuff the woman from the shop had shared, I had suspected that was the case. "But you can leave, right?" "I don't think so. There were supposed to be two real people in here. If I left, it might all fall apart." I sighed. "I'm sorry that I got you into this mess, Kat. I never would have wished that in a million years. I love you too much for that." She slipped her arm around my waist. "I know that, Stephen. I love you, too." "So, do we just try to go back to the way things were? Recreate our old lives here?" "I can't change you back into a man," she said with a note of regret. "I can make you older or younger or prettier, but I can't make you male." I nodded. "I guess being a girl won't be that bad. So long as I don't still have to be an oversexed slut." Kat laughed. Then she reached up and put her hand on my fleshy jaw, turning my head so that she could look into my eyes. "I do have a few ideas. Do you trust me?" "With all my heart." She smiled and leaned in to kiss me lightly on the lips. "Close your eyes," she whispered. Epilogue I awoke with a start, heart hammering in my chest. Quickly sitting up, I glanced around the bedroom, half expecting to see the Devil herself leaning over me. However, I was completely alone. Sighing with relief, I flopped back down on the bed. As my pulse slowly returned to normal, I glanced over at the clock. If I didn't get my butt in gear, I was going to be late. Groaning in protest, I threw off the covers and climbed out of the warm, comfortable bed. At little over an hour later, I was all dressed and ready to go. Except for my shoes. I sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped them onto my feet. When I had just finished, I heard the unmistakable sound of someone running up the stairs. The bedroom door flew open, and Kat rushed into the room. "Hey," I said as I stood up. "Are you okay?" She nodded, looking at me for a moment. "I'm fine. Just a little excited. Aren't you?" I tried to put on a bored face, but the attempt devolved into a fit of giggles. "Yes!" It was the first day of freshman year. No more hanging out with the little kids. We were going to be socializing with the more mature students of Taborville High. "Do you think anyone will make fun of me?" I asked. "Because of ..." I gestured at my body. Puberty had rolled in like a semi over the summer, giving me a set of perky B-cup breasts and a pert, round bottom. Kat shook her head. "I think you'll be fine," she said. Her own body had blossomed over the past couple of months as well. Only she ended up a little bigger up top than I did. But that was okay, Kat was taller so the added size looked good on her. I grabbed my pink backpack from the vanity's chair and gave myself one last look in the mirror. One of the best things about going to Taborville High, in my opinion, was the uniforms. I thought they made me look more mature. The only thing better would be if I was wearing a Raiderette uniform. Being a cheerleader had always been a dream of mine. "Stop ogling yourself, Steph," Kat said, elbowing me in the side. "You're pretty enough as it is. Besides, you can't even try out for the cheer squad until you're a sophomore." I turned to look at her with an arched eyebrow. "Pretty enough to get Corey Johnson's attention?" Kat rolled her eyes. "The more things change the more they stay the same." She grabbed my sleeve and pulled. "Come on. We don't want to be tardy on our first day." As we walked out of the room, I stopped and looked back at the bed for a moment. Then I gave Kat a curious look. "You know the weirdest thing? I had a dream last night I was a boy. Well, a man." I shook my head. "Isn't that freaky?" "The freakiest," she replied, giving me a small smile. "Well, I'm glad it was just a dream," I said as I pulled the door closed. "I'm much happier being me." "Me, too, Stephanie. Me, too." Author's Note: I hope you've enjoyed this sordid little tale. The ending might not have been what some of you had hoped, but it was the ending I'd planned since inception. The SRU wizard's appearance is an homage and tribute to Bill Hart. When I first visited this site many moons ago, it was the SRU stories that hooked me. Hopefully, I have done the character no disservice. Thank you for this opportunity to bring a little entertainment into your lives. Sincerely, Limbo's Mistress.