Kylie didn't have to be asked twice. Not when her mistress, her childhood friend, was asking for her most intimate services. She lifted her head to lap at Samira's soft pussy, her tongue parting her lips and dipping inside. She tasted tart and tangy, and Kylie could smell her arousal, a warm, musky scent that reminded her of aromatic spices, cardamom and turmeric mixed with earth and leather.
She licked and nibbled at Samira's clit, teasing her, and felt Samira's hands thread into her hair, pulling her face deeper into her cunt. Kylie obeyed, her tongue sliding across Samira's mound and slipping inside her again. She redoubled her efforts, sucking and licking, her tongue dancing over Samira's pussy, and she heard Samira's breath coming faster.
Samira ground her pussy against Kylie's lips and nose, her juices dripping across Kylie's face. In response, Kylie focused her attention on Samira's clit, teasing and stroking it with firm licks until Samira's thighs clenched around her head and squeezed tight. Samira's breath was fast and ragged, but then she opened her legs and pulled at Kylie's shoulders.
"Come here, pet. Touch me with your hands." Kylie slid out from under Samira, and Samira lay down on her back, spreading her legs and guiding Kylie's hand down to her cunt. Her skin was burning hot, and Kylie dipped a finger inside, marveling at how slick and warm Samira felt.
She probed deeper, searching for the places that made Samira twitch and shiver. Samira was quiet, but her hips bucked up to meet Kylie's hand, and she could tell the other girl was enjoying herself. Kylie withdrew and then slipped two fingers inside her, the tight walls of Samira's cunt gripping her digits. She rubbed her fingers along the sensitive patch of Samira's inner wall, and Samira shuddered, a gasp escaping her.
"Kylie, talk to me… tell me--" Her words broke off as Kylie stroked her, then continued. "Tell me what you're thinking about. What you… see in me?"
Kylie felt her cheeks flushing. What did she see in Samira? "You're beautiful," she said, her voice soft. "I want… to worship you, to kiss you all over, to fuck you, to feel you all around me…" As she spoke, her hand kept gently, slowly rubbing, stroking Samira's most sensitive spot.
Samira was still holding herself back, Kylie could tell, riding the edge of her orgasm without tipping over. Kylie leaned down, her lips brushing Samira's ear. "What do I see in you? When I look at you, I see strength, power. I admire you… I've always admired you, Samira, but I also remember, when we were kids…"
The words came pouring out. "You let me have the last piece of chocolate, and you stood up to the boys who were making fun of me for being a poor kid. You let me play with your Gameboy, and when you felt scared or sad, you still kept moving forward, but you squeezed my hand extra tight." Kylie swallowed, her fingers working steadily inside Samira. "You're the reason I did so well in high school… I wanted to impress you, to be worthy of you."
Samira was quiet, listening. "I can't tell you how much you mean to me, Samira. You've always been the strongest person I've known, and now… we're doing this together, and I'm a girl, and…" Her own feelings swirled around her. "I love you, Samira. I don't care if it's platonic or romantic or just something temporary. I love you, and I--"
Kylie was cut off by Samira's hiss of breath. "Lie down, Kylie. Keep touching me, but lie down. I want to be on top."
Kylie complied, lying down on her back. Samira rolled over and straddled her, and Kylie kept her hand working between her legs. Samira leaned down to kiss her, and Kylie's heart thumped hard, her stomach doing flip-flops. The kiss was warm and gentle, and Kylie could taste Samira on her own lips, her skin slick and moist against Kylie's mouth.
When Samira drew away, she had a fierce expression on her face, her eyes shining. "I want to come for you, Kylie." She lifted Kylie's leg and positioned her own body so that their mounds could press together. "Keep touching me."
Kylie obliged, her fingers sliding across Samira's cunt, while Samira ground her own clit against Kylie's. Kylie could feel her friend's pelvis against hers, their flesh sliding together. Samira's movements became frantic, her hips bucking and twitching.
Kylie could feel her own orgasm coming, an indescribable closeness and intimacy as they moved together. Their flesh was slick with moisture, and Samira's pubic hair scratched Kylie's mound as they rubbed against each other. Samira was moaning now, the sound muffled, and Kylie could feel the pleasure rising in her friend as well, building to a crescendo. Everything around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them, bodies moving together, and the sound of Samira's gasps and moans.
Then, a cry, and Kylie felt Samira's body shaking against her as an orgasm crashed through her, and the feeling of her trembling pushed Kylie into some space beyond words, beyond thought, everything going white and hot. Kylie's hips rose and jerked forward as she smashed her cunt against Samira's and cried out, the ecstasy drowning her. She could hear her own voice, calling out to Samira, to the stars, to the night outside.
Samira's body relaxed, and she lay on top of Kylie, the two of them spent and breathless. They lay on the carpet; the world turned around them, and for a moment everything seemed right, the two of them entwined on the floor of Samira's living room.
Then Samira whispered to her. "Now the fun part. Or have you forgotten?"
Kylie blinked. Of course, she realized. I helped Samira come, and now I'm going to change. Already, she felt the strange tingling in her fingers and toes, as if they were trying to escape, moving outwards as her limbs grew.
Samira watched her, a small smile playing over her face. "How are you feeling, Kylie?"
"I—it's happening." Kylie stared up at Samira. Her hair was bristling and moving, like snakes crawling over her head, each strand pulling inward towards its root and darkening to a muddy brown.
"Tell me what it feels like," Samira whispered, and straddled her lover's changing form. Even as she spoke, Kylie's body was shifting and broadening, her slim and lithe figure becoming heavier and more muscular.
"It's like I'm in a cocoon," said Kylie. "Like I'm being reborn, but unborn…" Her voice cracked and warped. "I feel the energy moving, growing, changing me."
Samira watched her. Kylie's features were already broadening, her cheekbones growing and her nose flattening, the transformation becoming more obvious. She reached between Kylie's legs, and the changing girl gasped as Samira stroked her lengthening clitoris.
Kylie brought her hands to her breasts, kneading them as they changed and flattened, losing volume and softness, leaving muscle behind. Below her, she could feel her hips narrowing and her ass going through the same process, her thighs gaining muscle as well. Kyle wasn't a big guy, he was no Sam—but he was certainly larger and stronger than the diminutive girl he'd been a few moments ago.
Samira was rubbing Kyle harder, massaging and coaxing his cock and balls into existence, pulling out the shaft like clay. Kyle moaned, feeling like every nerve ending spun into that place between his legs, his growing, hardening cock. He was already big, fully erect, and when he looked down, he saw a fantasy he'd masturbated to more often than he'd like to admit: Samira, grinning impishly and straddling his body, her wet cunt hovering over his throbbing erection.
Kylie felt his chest tightening, the hair spreading over his pecs and then, finally, the thickening of his voice into a familiar range. "Samira, are you really going to--"
Samira wordlessly impaled herself on Kylie's cock, the two of them moaning as she sank down. Kyle's shaft reached its full length inside of her, long and slightly curved. Just as he remembered, but never in this place inside of her, her pussy warm and tight around his shaft.
Samira started moving up and down on his dick, and Kyle's eyes fluttered closed. It was amazing—Samira's pussy felt like heaven, and her breasts hung above him, her dark nipples brushing his chest. Kyle thrust his hips forward, matching Samira's pace and speed, driving his cock deeper and deeper.
"Yeah," Samira gasped as her ass shook and bounced. "Fuck me, Kyle."
Kyle grabbed her hips, helping her, driving his dick harder into her cunt, pounding against her pubic bone. He could feel her grinding her clit against the top of his shaft; he could feel the way her cunt clenched down, tightening and loosening around him. Kyle knew that anatomy more intimately now—from serving Samira, and from having Kylie's own clit.
Samira reared up, changing positions to bounce harder on Kyle's cock, and he could see her pussy lips swallowing up and sliding over his dick. He lifted her knees so she could lean back and find the right angle to grind. His entire body was on fire, and the feeling of being hilt-deep inside Samira was unbelievable, a dream he'd longed for without knowing.
Samira's body was glistening with sweat, her eyes closed. Her demeanor had changed, no longer the predatory smirk she'd used on Kylie. She seemed lost in her own pleasure, riding Kyle like she owned him, her breasts bouncing. Kyle couldn't take his eyes away from her. Samira leaned back further, putting a hand against the floor and twisting her hips in a writhing motion. Kyle could feel her clenching down, and the rhythm of her thrusts sped up, her eyes snapping open and her jaw set with concentration. Her movements were athletic, a dancer's body using every muscle, her thighs flexing as she slammed her hips down.
"Yes, Kyle," Samira gasped. "Keep going." He felt his shaft stiffen further, aching for release. As she moved, he worried for a moment that he'd slip out of her, but her pussy gripped him, as if refusing to let go. She rode him faster, and he could feel his balls tightening.
"I'm going to cum," Kyle moaned, and Samira just nodded, her eyes squeezing shut.
"I want you to cum on my tits, Kyle. Do that for me." In one fluid motion, she pulled away from his cock and grabbed it in one hand, squeezing tightly, her thumb circling the tip.
Kyle sat up, his ass against his heels, and Samira scooted forward, her breasts bouncing as she jerked him off with one hand and fondled his balls with the other. Kyle groaned, the feeling of her fingers and palm as she gripped his cock, pushing him over the edge.
"I'm gonna cum," he gasped, and the first jet shot out, coating Samira's breasts with hot, thick liquid. Samira giggled and kept pumping, her hand working faster, the sticky cum smearing over her chest.
"Let it all out, Kyle. Paint me with that jizz." Kyle could only obey. Samira's grip was firm, and when she leaned closer, he shot across her collarbone, covering her skin with thick white fluid. He spasmed and jerked, the cum streaming from his dick. The sensation was so different from the orgasms he'd experienced as Kylie; instead of waves of pleasure rolling through his body, it felt as if his entire core was a knot of tension, a spring ready to release. And now the spring had unwound all at once, spasming through him.
Samira's chest glistened with his seed, her skin warm and golden beneath the pearly strands. She scooped a finger across her breast and raised it to her lips, licking the cum off her finger and swallowing with a smirk.
"Does Kylie want some?" She ran her finger across her collarbone and proffered it to him with a grin. Kyle hesitated, then knew the answer: Kylie would absolutely want some. The salty, sticky liquid was a little bitter, but not unpleasant. He leaned forward and sucked the cum off Samira's finger, his own sticky seed coating his lips. Kyle felt a strange sense of violation, as if giving in to Kylie's desires meant losing himself, becoming submerged in her.
Samira watched him, her eyes dark. "Good girl." Then she leaned forward and kissed Kyle, her mouth hot on his, her tongue searching for his own. Kyle groaned, his cock still aching from his orgasm. Then Samira stood up, shaking her head as if to clear it.
"I've got to cover up before we run out of time!" He watched her grab the silk robe from where it lay discarded and wrap her cum-covered body in the fine fabric. The sticky wetness of his release seeped dark through the thin silk.
"Time? It's the middle of the night. Did you want me to stay over, or…?" Kyle leaned on one arm, trying to look casual and hoping Samira would say yes.
Samira shook her head. "You've already forgotten how my curse works?" She pointed at her lap with both hands. "You just finished transforming, so there's a short grace period. But by now, if you get a glimpse of these luscious lady bits, you'll start changing back to Kylie."
Kyle looked down at his crotch, his cock softening, and felt a strange pang at the thought of losing it. "Yeah, I'm… not ready for that yet."
"Yet, huh? Sounds like you know exactly what you want." Samira winked at him. "Look, Kyle… you can sleep on the couch, but unless you want to transform in the middle of the night, it's too dangerous to lie next to--"
He cut her off by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her softly, his lips caressing hers. She gave in to the kiss for a moment, then pulled back.
"Kyle, you know how I feel about getting too attached--"
"I don't care. You're my friend, and I know you too well. This… your curse. It isn't easy for you, that's obvious." He gestured to the leather couch. "I'll sleep here. But let's have breakfast or something, okay?"
Samira sighed and stared at him for a long time, her expression unreadable, then kissed him again, fiercely. "You're too sweet to me," she said. "And I'll definitely have breakfast with you."
"Well, great." Kyle looked around. "Samira, can I use your shower? I don't exactly have a change of clothes, and I feel pretty gross…"
Samira laughed. "Of course. And there's probably a tracksuit or something around here that'd fit you. Come with me. There's something in my bedroom I want to show you."
She led him down the hall and through the mess of clothes, books, and blankets to her bedside, where she pulled open a drawer and removed a small, inlaid wooden box. Opening the box, she revealed a ring made of white and green jade—actually, it was the size of a bracelet, Kyle realized. Or was it? Something about the material made it hard to judge size, the stone seeming to swell and recede like the ocean's surface. On one side, a cunningly concealed hinge allowed it to swing open, while the other side bore an engraved clasp.
"Even I can tell that's magic," Kyle said, notes of curiosity and apprehension mingling in his voice.
Samira nodded. "Haven't you wondered how my family planned to marry me off? Still plans to, if my mother gets her way. It's not so easy to break the curse, you see…" She trailed off, her expression clouding.
Kyle hesitated, then spoke when Samira remained silent. "But they probably wouldn't want you and the bridegroom swapping roles on your wedding night, right? The curse seems like a strange move even for uptight purity-culture traditionalists, even if the sorcerer messed it up… but yeah, how were they thinking of handling your wedding?"
Samira snorted. "Like they handled everything else that has to do with my curse. The less they have to think about it or take responsibility, the better." Her gaze had returned to the ring, and her expression was dark. "This bracelet is intended for whatever man they give me to. Once it's locked onto his wrist, my curse will have no effect on him. His body won't change, he won't transform. It's an expensive gift, designed to be given only once."
She swung the bracelet open, showing Kyle the tiny keyhole in the clasp, so small it was hard to believe anyone could fashion a key for it. "There's no key, at least not in the box. My mother will present it to my husband on the wedding day. It's supposed to be a sacred secret, an inheritance." She snapped the bracelet over her wrist and the clasp snapped shut.
Kyle blinked. "Did you just… lock the bracelet on yourself?"
Samira grinned impishly. "I figured out how to pick it when I was seventeen." She pulled up the velvet bottom of the box and removed a slender wire with a tapering curve at its end, then slipped it into the lock and twisted. The bracelet clicked open again.
Kyle couldn't help but laugh. "Samira, you are… something else."
"Why thank you. I like to think so." She placed the pick and the bracelet back in the box, and regarded Kyle with lips pursed.
"So… you want me to wear it? Then we could cuddle in bed, maybe wake up and…" He spread his hands, feeling a blush creeping across his cheeks.
Samira's mouth tightened into a thin smile. "Kyle… that sounds fun. But you must understand… ugh, how can I explain this?" She paced a few steps, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet, then turned to him, her eyes full of something unreadable.
"As far as my family is concerned, even my father and my more progressive aunties… the man who wears that bracelet will be my husband. That's just how they see it. And even if I think it's all bullshit, I… I'm not ready to accept that. To let a man own me, even symbolically."
Her voice had taken on an angry, pleading tone. "My mother thinks she's protecting me, but I just can't imagine myself as somebody's property. I hope you can understand, Kyle. You're my friend, and I appreciate what we did tonight, but--"
"Samira." Kyle put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. "Of course. I don't want you to go through anything you aren't comfortable with, okay? Even if it means… not sleeping in the same bed, or--"
Samira cut him off with a kiss, and Kyle could feel the relief and gratitude in her touch. She pulled away, her eyes bright. "Silly Kyle. That's not why I showed you the bracelet. Listen, I don't want to get engaged… to anybody. But I don't have to wear it… as Samira."
Kyle's eyebrows lifted. "Oh. You… mean…"
She nodded. "And you don't have to be Kyle when you wear it." She took a breath, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "Maybe… we could explore the possibilities?"
Kyle could feel his heart beating in his throat, the possibilities unfolding like a flower opening. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think that could be… interesting."
