Foreword:
My apologies for the long delay in finishing this series. A couple of notes about that are included as an afterword.
Chapter 6: A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned
Wednesday Night (August 2)
Stacia grunted with each thrust of Miguel's cock, as his hips slapped against her ass and thighs. Her bleary eyes refused to focus, although she had mixed feelings about her near-blindness. The inability to see clearly was contributing to a feeling of restrained horror, but she was almost thankful that she couldn't make out the leering faces of the crowd that surrounded them as they rutted on the dance floor. She got a thrill from being admired and showing off, but the circumstances of their current predicament ensured that her pleasure was superficial, a thin layer of lust floating on a deep ocean of shame and terror. She and Miguel had been drawn to the club almost every night since their first trip, and it was only when they arrived that she could fully recall what had happened there, and how they were both puppets of some mysterious tormentor they'd never seen.
"I'm about to cum," Miguel panted, thrusting slightly deeper and harder than before. Stacia grunted a little more loudly in reply, wishing the two of them had more opportunities to talk. She didn't think their odds of escape or resistance would be improved much, but at least they might be able to comfort each other a little, or commiserate about their mutual entrapment. Unfortunately, about the only time they were together during their trips to the club were live sex shows like the one they were engaged in, which provided very little chance for conversation, or at least not a private one. Otherwise, Miguel worked the bar, ejaculating what must have been gallons of cum each night, leaving him ravenous and dehydrated by the time they left, despite constant snacking. For her part, Stacia spent most of the night naked and crawling, worshipping people's feet and occasionally being compelled to provide oral sex to select guests. That was the part she hated most, and some evenings were far worse than others, largely depending on how she felt about cocks or cunts, which seemed to change from night to night.
A flood of warmth filled Stacia, alerting her to Miguel's orgasm. She felt a small frisson of pleasure at the sensation, a weak orgasm struggling against the tide of her anguish and fear. The burst of endorphins was almost an insult, considering the situation, and she wished for what was probably the hundredth time that she could take revenge on whoever was responsible, or at least had a face or a name on which to focus her rage and misery.
"Here," said Miguel tonelessly, presenting his still-erect shaft for cleaning. Stacia took him in her mouth, licking and slurping to remove their combined juices. Once she released him, he turned without a word and headed for the bar, presumably to hand out more cum for the crowd. She still couldn't see very easily, thanks to the mostly dark room and the bright lights trained on her, but the jeering catcalls and applause of their audience were perfectly audible.
"I should crawl out there and find someone to service," said a voice in Stacia's head, one which she was getting better at recognizing as not her own. She had never been a particularly superstitious person before, but at this point, the idea that she was cursed seemed to be the only explanation left to explain her torment. As she moved out of the light and into the darkness, begging each person she met to allow her to worship their sex, Stacia withered inside, disturbed by visions of witches, demons, and nameless horrors.
~~~
Miguel resumed his post behind the bar, already hard again and stroking himself. He knew he was being influenced, if not outright controlled, but he simply found it impossible to resist the pleasure of caressing his cock. Even worse, he feared he was getting addicted to the taste of his own jizz after several nights drinking multiple shot glasses of the stuff, not to mention snowballing with Stacia or the occasional other patron. Unlike the exhibitionistic young woman he was ostensibly there with, who seemed to have no memory of what went on at the club after she left it, the stag man could recall every night with clarity, except when he indulged himself by drinking alcohol as well as cum.
Even worse, Miguel's generosity regarding his fluids didn't end when he went home. His three roommates happily consumed his spunk several times a day, although he thought only Derek knew the truth about the source. All the nurses at the clinic seemed to be aware of the facts regarding his ejaculate, but that hadn't stopped them from sharing the excess amongst themselves that week when he made his donations, even though Ione was the only one who had yet taken it straight from the source. The swings from horror to feverish arousal and back again were giving him a feeling of vertigo, and his inability to tell anyone about what was happening had him on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Even when Dana or someone directly asked him about what went on at the club, all he could do was lie.
Miguel grunted as he sprayed another tray of shot glasses with his jizz, dourly noting that his aim was getting better. Only a few strands and droplets had missed the targets, with the bulk of each major jet landing squarely in the small vessels, mostly filling them. He wiped up the residues with his fingers, sucking one clean himself but offering the rest to the waitress that picked up the tray, who paused long enough to accept the salty treat. The noise of the club was too great to allow him to hear the low moan the woman made at the taste, but he could feel the vibrations of her pleasure.
Setting up another tray, Miguel wondered just how much longer he could remain sane, or if he was already trapped in some kind of mad hallucination.
~~~
Dana stared at the throbbing member jutting from Penny's crotch with disbelief. It appeared to have a blend of human and canine characteristics, much like the rest of her friend's partially transformed body, with a bulging helmet, a reddish coloration, and the slight swelling of what she assumed would be a knot partway along its length. It was so shocking a development that she'd momentarily forgotten the bubbling lust that accompanied her metamorphosis, but her nostrils dilated widely and she deeply inhaled the scent of arousal wafting off her lover.
"Is this really happening?" Penny asked weakly, reaching out with her hand but stopping short of actually touching her new equipment. "I'm not hallucinating or something?"
"I don't think so," Dana replied hesitantly, moving closer to the erection in question. She sniffed experimentally and added, "It smells real." Unable to resist her animalistic urges, she licked at the penis with her canine tongue, starting near the base and slowly moving toward the tip.
"Oh, fuck!" gasped Penny, quivering at the sensation and balling her hands into fists. "It's real! It feels amazing!"
"Tastes amazing, too!" Dana gushed, licking her nose before taking Penny's proud cock into her mouth and groaning happily.
Penny started to scream, "Fuck!" but the word turned into an inarticulate cry partway through, and her hands grasped at Dana's furry, dog-like ears as she tried to ensure the blowjob continued. A new keening wail emerged after every breath, meaningless vowel sounds that somehow still clearly communicated her feelings. Dana reached down to play with her clit, desperate for stimulation, but discovered that her hands were more like a dog's paws, too clumsy to provide the relief she craved. She had to struggle against Penny's grip to pull away, making the chubby redhead whimper with disappointment, but as soon as she was free she spun around and presented her swollen sex to her friend, spreading her legs wide and lifting her tail as an invitation.
