ROYAL REWARD: Binge Transformation (Inanimate TF: Furniture/Clothing/Food)

Sitting outside the café with a cup of tea and a fashion mag, Pandora felt an itch that could only be scratched in a very particular manner.

Cracking her neck, she grit her teeth and turned her attention back to her magazine, struggling to focus on the words. Raising her cup, she took another deep sip of its contents, though the sweet taste barely registered as it trickled down her throat.

As she turned to the next page, her hand started to tremble. Biting her lip, she lowered her cup before anything could spill, placed it clattering on its saucer, and trapped her hand with her other, hoping to suppress the shaking. It only made it worse.

Her teeth started to chatter. Screwing up her eyes, she breathed deep. In, out, long and hard. Anything to keep herself focused.

She tried to turn to the next page, but she couldn’t get a grip on it. A bead of sweat dripped from her brow and fell with a plip into her generous cleavage. She swallowed. K-keep it together, Pandora.

As she fought for self-control, a babbling voice snatched her attention sideways: outside the café, she saw two women in their late twenties walking hand in hand. One thick-bodied and blonde, the other considerably more slender. Rings sparkled around their fingers–were they lovers? She felt a sudden, intense craving.

Pinging through her body like a loose ball, the itch finally came to a halt in her groin, and made Pandora slam her legs shut as she struggled to maintain control. Face red, she realized her hand had gone to her wand without her noticing. Even now, the feeling of the hard, wooden rod in her hand was impossibly appealing…

You… you did well, she thought, eyes locked on the pair of women. 6 months! That’s better than most of the witches at the meeting. Most of them can’t go three weeks without turning some unfortunate mortal into shoes. You’ve earned one little reward, haven’t you? Haven’t you?

Taking a deep breath, Pandora stood and raised her wand. To hell with it.

The first thing she did was cast was a simple anti-perception charm to keep any of the nearby mortals from noticing her activities.

The second was slam a 9th-tier transformation curse straight into the curvaceous woman’s back. With a moan that went unheard and unresponded to, the woman threw back her head and clasped a breast, fingering herself as her clothing exploded in a shower of burning scraps. Exposed, her body rapidly solidified, skin turning a sleek white as it hardened to solid marble. The woman’s expression froze, caught in a moment of utter bliss.

As her wife released her hand with an expression of shock, the blonde rose on a little plinth, and a stone basin formed around her. Her partner stumbled backward, eyes wide, and Pandora took the chance to slip out of her chair and march over.

Leaning in, she placed a soft hand on the hard curve of the former woman’s bosom, shivering in delight. The new fountain felt cold, but she could still sense the heat of the soul burning inside.

Beside her, the wife stared in horror. “What have you done to her?!” she cried, expression wild. “Turn her back! Turn her back!” She slammed her pitiful fists into Pandora’s back, accomplishing little.

The fire in Pandora’s groin flared. Drawing in a deep breath, she released it as a moan. She… she deserved a big reward.

Without a word, she turned and raised her wand. The wife had just enough time to squeak out a plea for mercy before she melted, her entire body flowing in a floating river towards her former lover’s groin. With a flick of her wand, Pandora sent her into her, into her and inside her, every single drop. The statue started to tremble, shaking all over, as if some terrible pressure were building up inside her, growing stronger and stronger and stronger, until at last–

With a hiss, water burst from the woman’s open mouth and exposed nipple and, of course, from her solid stone sex. Pandora stood and watched as it filled the basin, feeling about ready to gush herself. Wiping her brow, her sex still burning, she turned to seek out her next target.

Her eyes caught the clothing store on the other side of the mall. Brightly lit and filled with colorful clothes, it was difficult to look anywhere else: it demanded her attention–she had to visit it. Licking her wand, she approached.

Standing there in the entrance, she sized up the treats on offer: a young man with dark hair accompanying his petite brunette girlfriend, looking out of place and embarrassed as she asked him for his opinions on lingerie; a group of five girls–cheerleaders, based on their demeanor–gossiping and giggling amid the skirts; a nervous young woman with freckles and glasses, and an enormous pair of breasts crammed into a tightly fitting sweater.

Pandora’s wand slid slowly between her legs. She came to a stop just short of slipping it inside her.

Drawing in a deep breath, she raised it high and twirled it, releasing a magical storm that rapidly swept over the store, choking the ceiling and warding every escape route. Before the shoppers could react, arcs of magical lightning dropped from above and struck them. One by one, screams filled the air.

Pandora watched–her chest rising and falling, her fingers all but in her sex–as the men and women before her warped and twisted at her will. As the young man’s hands slipped over his shoulders to join up with his legs, while his girlfriend’s shot forward to tangle before her. With one last pair of screams, the pair shrivelled and fell, striking the floor as a bright red pair of bikini bottoms, still steaming.

Nearby, the cheerleaders squealed so perfectly in-sync they must surely have been practicing as they rose into the air and hollowed out, their curvaceous torsos and heads folding into their generous chests, while their limbs stretched and curled behind them to form straps. Finally, they dropped to the ground too, five women in the primes of their lives replaced by five skimpy bikinis, blue and striped. Pandora snickered.

At the door of the store, the busty nerd moaned as her clothing melted away and she rose into the air too, squealing like a pig as she struggled to cover her chubby body. Finally, with one last cry, her head collapsed into her neck, while her pussy and anus expanded to form a pair of leg holes. With that, her entire body turned a bright green, and she dropped to the ground as a plain, one-piece swimsuit.

One by one, the screams died out as their owners dropped, reduced to clothing. As the spell finally fizzled out, Pandora lowered her wand and slipped it back into its pouch. Striding forward, she snatched up the fallen customers one by one and made her way to the changing rooms.

There, in the front of the mirror, she wasted no time in stripping off and slipping her own generous figure into them. Unfortunately, her spell had neglected to tailor her victims to her: the young man and his girlfriend barely fit her at all: her breasts snapped his straps outright, and his girlfriend tore when she tried to pull her up.

The cheerleaders fared little better. Though they fit her figure, they simply didn’t match her style. Dark blue with stripes? What was she? A whore? Disgusted, she discarded them all, tossing them straight into the reject pile, from which some hapless store assistant would no doubt add them to the shelves.

Finally, she turned her attention to the nerd-turned-one-piece. Scooping her up, she spun her around and cocked her head. The former nerd was certainly one of the larger items she’d produced, but she was also one of the most modest, and Pandora really wasn’t in the mood to hide her flesh.

In the end, she decided to try her out anyway. Slipping her legs through the poor girl’s holes–enjoying the squirming of the soul trapped inside as it was penetrated twice over–she pulled her up over her bust and released her straps with a snap.

Turning to the mirror, Pandora had to laugh: she’d been wrong on both accounts: the former nerd was still too small for her, and consequently far less covering than designed. Pandora’s boobs flowed up and over her mouth, squeezed erotically tight, while the poor woman’s crotch had disappeared completely between Pandora’s asscheeks. Oh yes, she thought, licking her lips, you’ll do perfectly.

Changing back into her robes, she slipped the girl into her handbag and marched out, leaving the rest of her victims to molder behind her.

*

As she marched on, flicking her wand from one mortal to another and leaving a trail of strangely out of place objects in her wake, Pandora felt a rumbling in her stomach. Rubbing her belly, she cocked her head. Perhaps it was time for a quick midday snack. Chuckling, she made her way to the food court.

Approaching, she couldn’t help but notice how busy the place was. Customers filled every available seat and formed a queue stretching all the way back to the main concourse. Cocking her head, she watched the place’s teenaged employees rushing to and fro behind the counter, desperately trying to stem the endless flow of orders.

Allow me to help you, she thought, grinning smugly. Drawing her wand, Pandora raised it high and spun it in a circle. With a flash, every man and woman in the food court, whether sitting and eating or waiting to order, vanished, replaced by a simple napkin. Striding over them, Pandora came to a stop at the counter, heels resting on the flattened form of a former blonde.

The teenaged girl on the other side stared at her, blinking in confusion. “Hi,” she said, brushing a lock of short red hair out of her eyes. “Can I help you?”

Pandora didn’t respond. Instead, she cast her gaze past the redhead to the other employees standing behind her. There were seven in total, three girls and four men, five on the friers while two of the girls handled the counter.

Her mouth curled into a smile. “As it happens, yes,” she said, raising her wand. “I’d like a burger with fries and a cola. For dessert: a tub of ice cream. Oh, and of course: I want a toy.” With a laugh, she flicked her wand.

The unfortunate redhead had just enough time to scream before she shot into the air and flattened out, her entire body squeezed into a ball of meat and cloth the size of a football. Twisting her wand, Pandora ripped off her clothes and crushed her even tighter, slicing her into several distinct layers: the middlemost and largest brown into a plump, juicy patty, the surrounding into cheese, and the next into lettuce, and so on. Finally, her outermost layers plumped into a pair of fat buns sprinkled with sesame seeds, and with that, her clothing reformed around her as a tight paper wrapper. The girl dropped, landing on the counter with a plop.

Pandora wasted no time turning her attention to the next of her targets. With a flash of magic, another young woman flipped onto her back, pussy yawning wide as she expanded into a paper carton. The young man beside her screamed in turn as his cock burst through his pants, grown enormous and growing larger with the second as it sucked up the rest of his mass. Slamming straight into his partner, it took on a pale yellow shade and swiftly divided, filling the former girl’s pussy with tens of long, salty fries.

Pandora licked her lips.

Another flick, another fate inflicted: a young blond screamed as his penis blew up like his friend’s, lengthening into a straw even as the rest of his body rounded and filled into an extra large cup of soda. Elsewhere, another boy suffered a similar fate, his penis slurping up the rest of him as it warped into a large plastic spoon, while the last girl moaned as her pussy stretched, rapidly filling with ice cream–it wasn’t long before the two were united. Schlup!

Finally, Pandora turned her attention to the last man on shift: a young, brown-haired man still absently working the friers, unaware what had happened to his colleagues. A simple tap with her wand, and he shrivelled away completely, vanishing inside his clothes.

Rummaging inside them, Pandora soon found him: a long, hard dildo etched with his panicked face and pleading hands.

Taking her place at one of the emptied tables, Pandora wasted no time in tucking into her meal. She felt much better now that she’d sated her itch. They’d make fun of her at the next meeting of course, but to hell with those weak-willed tarts–she deserved to let off some steam.

Who said a witch couldn’t treat herself once in a while?