Morgans Rape part 1
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Morgan's CurseChapter 2 free porn video
Part 2a: Leaving Las Vegas
I woke up, reeking of sex, with a rock-hard, firm stomach. After several months of pregnancy, it was a relief not to be pregnant for a change. Argyle was sitting next to me, and had dressed me in my sleep.
"How long was I out?", I asked.
"Only an hour. You cut it close that time, though."
I nodded, and looked into the back of the car. The infant and mother were there, still passed out. They'd probably both be groggy for at least a day. "Yeah, one more push and I would've transferred into the baby. I'd be trapped there until I got old enough to fuck." I'd had that happen in the past, and it was never pleasant. The last thing I wanted to go through was another childhood.
I took a moment to look Argyle's new form over approvingly. "Nice tits this time around", I remarked. Argyle had taken the form of a slim, athletic Hispanic woman this time, wearing a low-cut black bra under an even lower-cut tank top. Beneath that were a perfectly rounded pair of breasts with just the right amount of sweat showing, and a pair of extra-short denim shorts revealing legs suited to a ballerina.
Argyle broke into a toothy grin which concealed her nature better than any glamor spell she's tried. "All the better to seduce you with, my master", she simpered.
I rolled my eyes and growled out, "I don't care what form you try, demon. I may admire the scenery from time to time, but I'm still not fucking you."
"And after all I do for you", she sighed in reply.
I looked at myself in the driver's side mirror, taking stock of my new appearance. There was a day or two worth of stubble on my chin, my body was relatively well toned, and overall I wasn't unattractive. It's too bad Rudy was a rapist pig; there was nothing wrong with his looks. "Don't worry, I'll let you have this body. Just without me in it."
Argyle smiled as I twisted the keys in the ignition, bringing the ancient car coughing to life. We turned around and went back the way we came, bouncing along the uneven dirt trail back to the street. A moan came from the back, as my former body began struggling back to consciousness.
I could only channel a tiny fraction of my Power through my male body, but it took very little expenditure to deepen her sleep. I paused for a moment to look for traffic, then pulled onto the road and pointed the car towards the Strip. We crept along in traffic until we pulled into the parking lot at our hotel.
The prophet had been very clear to Mr. Wulf that we couldn't use our assets for the journey, but I was pretty sure that this wouldn't be a problem. And anyway, I had a moral obligation to protect the woman I'd been "joyriding" for the past few months, and ensure that her new baby was provided for. It was the least I could do.
Argyle and I dropped them both off in the penthouse bedroom, and I took a couple of moments at my laptop. I sent my standard "check-out" instructions to hotel management, and a second email to a local ob/gyn I keep on retainer in case this sort of thing happens. We'd be long gone by the time he arrived, but at least this woman would be taken care of.
I taped a small, pre-printed information packet to her chest. The packet contained a copy of a valid surrogacy contract, validated with her own thumbprint, and information on the room and a cashier's check for $500k. Typically the first few days are rough, but sooner or later, the owner of my former body will go back to her former life, puzzled but richer and with a baby she knows for a fact is hers, but doesn't remember carrying. As for the baby himself, I was confident he'd be well off. Let's just say that the baby I came that close to giving birth to went on to be named Albert Einstein.
We didn't spend long at the hotel, as tempting as it would've been. Nor did we leave by the private elevator; we just took the normal elevator out. Stepping into the Vegas heat, Argyle and I walked doggedly onwards until we came to Rudy's beaten-up car. Its engine turned over roughly, clattering to life moments before I put it into gear. It let out a belch of smoke and backfired once before we started to slowly move forwards. "Should we steal a different car, master?", asked Argyle.
I shook my head. "Rudy's registration is current, and he's the actual owner of this car. While I doubt he's a stranger to the law, no one's going to miss this car for a day or two. Let's not add any extra wrinkles, shall we?"
Argyle nodded as we drove west into the mid-afternoon sun, the car reaching the speed limit with some slight effort. The succubus reclined in her seat, letting out a deep breath and shifting around a little. "Breasts can be so tiresome, master", she purred as she traced her nipples' outlines with her fingertips. "They always gett hot, and the nipples always get hard and then soft, and then hard again. I don't know why you prefer staying in a female form", she pouted.
I shrugged. "I spent my first hundred years in a woman's body. I'm comfier when I'm wearing one."
My attention was drawn to the passenger seat just in time to see Argyle pull off her tank top. Her rack was now only covered by a dark, translucent bra which didn't do much to hide anything. The darkened circles of her Latina areolae peeked through her bra enticingly, but then I snapped my attention back to the road with a muttered curse.
In a female body, Argyle's advances pose no real temptation to me. But a male body's urges are much harder to control and predict. I gritted my teeth and kept driving, keeping in mind that as long as our contract holds, I must endure her attempts to seduce me. Sometimes, our contract was almost as troubling as the curse I was trying to break.
Speaking of which, I may as cover that now. The road out of Vegas is very long, and even more boring than it was long.
As I mentioned earlier, my name is Morgana Le Fay. I was half-sister to King Arthur, former lover to Merlin, and if I must say so, amazingly well preserved for a thousand-year-old sorceress. But I once cheated on Merlin with a hot slab of beefcake named Lancelot, and in his rage, he un-anchoring my immortal soul from my body and cursed me to an eternity of wandering.
The rules of my curse are simple: if I'm a man, my soul jumps into the first first woman I impregnate (and impregnation is almost guaranteed with each fuck). Once I'm in the woman's body, by definition that body is already pregnant. If a man cums inside me while I'm pregnant, my soul transfers into him; that's how I took over Rudy's body. If I fail to transfer into a man before giving birth, my soul gets trapped in the baby.
The final way my soul transfers, sucks the most. Any time I die, my spirit's drawn into the nearest living human. I'm stuck in the back seat then, so to speak. I can see through their eyes and hear through their ears, but all I can do is watch until the next time they have sex or die. I was once trapped in a monk in the 17th century once, for over fifty maddening years. When the monk finally died of old age, I transferred into another monk. I expected to be trapped for a long time, but I was pleased to discover that the next monk was sneaking out to brothels at night.
One of the minor annoyances about this curse is that I rarely get to finish an orgasm before I transfer. There was one way I could have an orgasm any time I wanted though, except that she'd eat my soul in the process. That brings me to Argyle.
The misinformed would call Argyle an incubus or a succubus, but demons fueled by sex magic are both and neither. These demons may at any moment choose to be male, female, or both. And like most demons, they burn incessantly with a lust for Power.
Like me, lust demons draw their Power from fertility magic. Having sex with one is mind-blowing, but it opens a direct conduit to your soul, allowing the demon to absorb your body and soul. Once absorbed, you're trapped in hell, perpetually being bled to feed Power back to the demon who damned you. Ordinary humans provided a trickle of Power, but if Argyle could swallow the soul of an ancient sorceress like me, her Power would increase beyond measure.
... which is why Argyle serves me. She believes that some day my guard will drop, and she'll seduce me in a moment of weakness. Our contract dictates that in exchange for her fealty, I must feed her the souls of the damned and may never command her to stop trying to seduce me. This last clause has produced some embarrassing public scenes over the centuries, but Argyle has learned with time that any success with me will be in private.
Argyle had apparently decided she was going to get particularly distracting. She tilted her chin up provocatively and ran her fingers down her throat, to her shoulders, and then down the gentle curve of her right breast. I watched as her fingers fidgeted on the soft slope of her breast, and then she pulled her bra down and outward, just enough for me to see as she took her nipple between her two fingers and began to idly stroke it. My cock hardened at the sight, and I cursed my luck as this turned out to be one of the more hormonal male bodies I've used. No wonder Rudy became a rapist.
She squirmed in her seat, fully aware that pheromones were wafting from her nether regions and filling the car. "May I at least suck you off, master?", Argyle inquired.
I shook my head. While Argyle can only devour souls through vaginal sex, getting a blow job while driving across the Vegas desert in a rattle-trap car was probably still inadvisable from a safety standpoint. "I'd really rather not get pulled over. I just want to find Merlin, kill him, and end this damn curse."
Argyle pouted for a moment, then sat up and looked as we approached an SUV with a huge fraternity logo across the rear window. Her face lit up with a grin as she lifted up her bra, then flashed the frat boys as we pulled even with them. A cheer erupted from the cracked windows as they spotted her perfectly-formed light-brown rack. I rolled my eyes and muttered to her, "I'm not letting you eat them."
She was facing the window now, cradling her bare tits in her hands to show the guys as we passed. She shot a glance over her shoulder at me and said, "Sometimes a girl just likes getting admirers."
I rolled my eyes again. "A girl likes admirers, perhaps. But a demon just wants lunch", I retorted.
The SUV's driver hit the gas pedal, pacing us as flashes started coming from the SUV. Apparently, some of the frat boys mistakenly believed that flash photography from behind rolled-up windows would produce useful results. In response, Argyle opened the sunroof and stood up through it, her bare chest fully exposed as she waved at the van of guys.
I hit the gas and accelerated, pulling ahead of the frat boys as Argyle pouted. Her breasts bounced with every bump of the freeway, and as the van began slowly to shrink into the distance she sighed and sat back down in her seat. "You could've let me at least take a nibble from one", she pouted.
I shook my head. "Just a nibble, huh? I've heard that one before. So have a lot of the souls you've eaten."
"Can't help it", Argyle mewed as she snuggled against my arm. "Demon."
Damn her, she'd perfected 'cute' down to a tee. This was going to be a very long drive.
Four hours later, we were in a dirty little town named Baker, right near the California state line. Our "borrowed" car was about to run out of gas, so I stopped at one of the overpriced gas stations to spend the money in Rudy's wallet. It turned out that he had six credit cards, only two of which had his name on them, and neither one worked on the gas pump we were at. Unfortunately, the $5 or so he had in dollar bills wouldn't buy a lot of gas.
I was just starting to come up with ideas for earning or otherwise acquiring some cash, when a familiar SUV pulled into the gas station at the pump behind me. A wolf whistle rang out, and Argyle grinned at me. "I have a solution to this problem, master", she purred, flashing her sexy brown eyes at me.
"You will do only as I command, Argyle." I looked at the guys piling out of the cars, most of whom were wandering off to the store. They left one of them at the gas pump, a scrawny guy who looked like the runt of the litter.
I addressed the one at the pump. He was a scrawny, mousy fellow who was clearly the group's omega male. "I see that you boys like my model", I said in my best Texan drawl.
"Model?", he asked in an adolescent sounding voice. His hair was a reddish blond, with a pinkish complexion. He wore glasses.
I nodded and gave a big grin. "Yep, model. We just got back from a photo shoot up in Vegas, and she had a great time. So great that she decided to give you boys a show on the way through."
The boy looked down at the ground, sheepishly, and stammered, "Well, I ... uh..."
I rolled my eyes. "Nothing to be ashamed of, boy! She's hot, and she showed you her body because she likes seeing men appreciate it. But right now, we're in a bit of trouble. And that gives you boys an opportunity."
The gas station doors swung open, and a few of the other frat boys came back out, carrying bottles of soda and a case of beer. They saw me talking to the driver and came over, probably assuming I was an upset, jealous boyfriend trying to get them to delete topless pictures of my slut girlfriend.
"What's going on here, Mouse? This guy giving you a hard time?", asked one of the guys. He stepped between Mouse and myself, trying to intimidate me.
I was about to say something when I heard the door to my car pop open. Argyle stepped out and slinked her way towards us, wearing only her bra for a top.
I put on my best salesman smile as she came up by my side and said, "Boys, my model and I are on our way back to LA, but we ran out of cash. She's a professional model, and I already know that you love her tits. And I know those pictures you tried to take through your rolled-up windows must have sucked. How about you buy us a tank of gas, and you can take some really nice pictures? Hell, I'll even coach you so you can take professional-level shots. I'm not sure which one of you boys owns that SUV, but pictures of her naked body sprawled out on the hood must be worth some points back at school, right?"
Argyle winked seductively and draped her arm around my shoulder as the boys looked at each other for a moment.
"Give us a moment, dude", said the one who'd been trying to intimidate me earlier.
The boys huddled together for a bit, and it didn't take long for them to come back with a counter offer. "Half a tank", said the alpha meat head, "and she gives us more than just pictures."
One of his cronies slapped him on the back and said, "You tell 'em, Butch!"
I shook my head, trying to protect the boys from their own stupidity. "Guys, she's been on the cover of Epic Tits Magazine, and Lord knows she's made a couple of movies. But she's not a hooker, and she doesn't do hardcore. We'll go as low as half a tank for a fifteen minute photo shoot, and that's the best you'll get."
The one they called Mouse stammered out, "Guys, that's a really good deal. That car can't hold more than $40 worth, and fifteen minutes with a model like her is worth at least two full tanks."
Butch scowled at Mouse and raised his hand as if he were going to strike him. Mouse cowered reflexively, and Butch put his hand down. Turning his attention away from the scrawny guy, Butch turned his attention back to me and set his face into a hard-edged scowl. "Half a tank", he repeated, "pictures, and one blow job apiece. Keep trying to bargain, and it's gonna get worse."
I rolled my eyes. "Listen - wait, what was your name? Bitch, was it?" Butch's nostrils flared and his fist clenched to strike. "You don't have the slightest fucking clue what you're into here. I've got a whole lot of reasons why you don't want to fuck her. Believe me, if you do anything with her beyond taking pictures, it'll end badly for you."
I never even saw Butch's fist coming. It hit me like a railroad engine at full speed, catching me under the jaw and lifting me off the ground. I spun, feeling light-headed and disconnected, and I felt myself bounce off of the van and then start falling. I must've hit the ground, but I never felt it. My vision going dark as I began to pass out.
Argyle screamed as one of the guys grabbed her. "Listen", she said pleadingly, "I'm clean, don't listen to him. He's been acting weird this whole trip. Just don't hurt me, I'll even fuck you if you'll let me!"
As I sank the rest of the way into the darkness, my last thought was that a good fuck from Argyle is exactly what they deserved at this point.
Part 2b: The Train to Freedom
I wasn't out for very long, but the boys had worked quickly. I half-awoke as the late-afternoon sun beat its way into my eyes. My hands and legs were tied, and one guy had my feet and the other had me by the shoulders, carrying me into a cheap motel room that Butch had decided to rent for a few hours. I pretended to still be unconscious when they unceremoniously dumped me into a chair near the air conditioner. I heard Mouse whisper into my ear, "Sorry, man, but at least they didn't leave you tied up in the van. You might've died in the heat."
I half opened my eyes, and noticed that there was duct tape over my mouth. It was nothing that a spell wouldn't resolve, but frankly Butch had pissed me off and I was going to enjoy watching what happened to him next.
Speaking of Butch, he lowered his crew-cut, square-jawed face into my field of vision and slapped my cheeks lightly. "Well well, I see you're awake. Good! I want to make sure you watch how a real man fucks that girlfriend of yours." He smirked at me and watched for my reaction. I staged fury and an intense stare, but carefully. Over the centuries, I've mastered expressions to the point where if I'd wanted to make him yelp like a scared puppy dog, I could've done it with just a glance. But I didn't want to do that at this point. Hell, even in a male form I could've mustered enough Magick to free myself and kill him. But that would be an act of mercy, and I was presently not in the mood for it.
Butch stepped back and pointed at the bed, where Argyle was tied to the headboard. "Since you weren't sure what a bitch looks like, we're going to show you what one looks like. We're going to run a train on your girlfriend here, and we're going to give her what your cock probably never could." Butch stripped off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles and a truly impressive body. Argyle, all the way over on the bed, had a look of unbridled lust on her face.
Butch started walking over to the bed, and when he got halfway there he turned his head back to me. He pointed his finger at her, inadvertently striking a pose with his chiseled physique that would've stirred a storm of appreciative hormones if I were in a female body. "See that, little camera fag? She already sees how much more of a man I am than you." He flexed a little, doing a sort of little dance as he stood at the foot of the bed and undressed. His buddies started taking off their clothes too, and I stopped myself a split second short of removing the gag in order to point out that while he's calling me a homosexual, he's the one stripping down in a room with seven men and only one woman.
Latisha
- 18.02.2022
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