Trifle Trouble Version B
This story is part 2 in a 2-part series.
- Part 1 - Trifle Trouble Version A
- Part 2 - You are here.
You come home from work and throw your bag onto the couch. "Princess, is there still dinner left over?"
"I thought we'd skip straight to dessert tonight~" Grace calls. You follow the intoxicating scent of fruit and whipped cream into the kitchen.
In there sits, not just your girlfriend/hypnodomme, but your girlfriend/hypnodomme/dessert holding a spoon as big as she is.
You have questions. She puts her toe in your mouth and lets you bite it off.
She pokes her tongue out, knowing that'll shut you up for a while. "First bite's free." She teases. Your pupils shrink. Your mouth waters. Near-orgasmic bliss washes all over your body through your mouth. You pant.
You always find it hard to look away from Grace, but this is something else. You need her. You need her so bad you barely notice the jelly sticking to your brain and gumming up the works. She notices your mouth watering and her mouth curls into a smile.
"You're lucky you're cute."
You almost don't notice your feet growing to match Grace's or some of her thoughts swirling around your head.
"Good girls wash the dishes." She taps the side of the sink with her spoon. You swallow and open the dishwasher.
Princess slaps it closed. "By hand." You nod. She pokes one of her spongy ankles into your mouth. You scrub the plates and sink into orgasmic bliss.
When the dishes are washed, you've been fed both of her legs. You're wearing Grace's long striped socks and her heavy boots.
As a reward, she lets you eat her sweet, sweet bulge, and you feel the real deal pressing against your new skirt.
Your thoughts roll slowly through your head. Your drool dribbles onto the ground, because Princess Grace tastes so good it's rewiring your brain.
One of your hands is now permanently busy stroking your new cock and pushing pleasure into your brain. "Good girls can't cum until they finish~"
Your stomach shrinks into Grace's toned midriff. Your chest expands to match her breasts and then some.
She tickles your tongue with her fingers until you eat those, too, and are rewarded with the same circuit traces she paints on her fingers. Her power glove binds with your body and connects with your pastry-caked brain. Your thighs clench and glow.
Your brain's being rewired and absorbed by Princess Grace, and all you can do is drool and dribble.
You kiss her head, and before you know it, your eyes combine into that green blue swirl. Your hair curls into a brilliant blonde. Grace curls your hands into a fist.
You're still there, but she's in charge. You feel the kind of bliss you only get when Princess has taken complete control of your body and made it hers.
"Let's go break this in." Princess swivels her new hips and walks you to the bedroom to see how much pleasure it takes to make the subby voice in her head overload with bliss.