Futanari Noteboo

"Carmen?"

That voice. Stern, scared and supportive all at once, ran over Carmen's skin like molten nails, warming and hurting her in equal measure. It's source; Alicia Robins, her mother. She was avoiding her for a reason. While Gretchen said she could cover up around her family, Carmen was still scantily clad, to the point that a single slip and her tattoos would be revealed. They'd break her mother's heart.

Becoming rich and getting away from a shit-hole of a home, only for her oldest daughter to become someone's slut. Not just anyone's, but the worst person for it.

"Yes, Mom? I'm in a hurry," Carmen said. It wasn't a lie, Gretchen ordered her to meet at the mall in fifteen minutes. She pulled on her shirt to keep it low. Her breasts constantly threatened to lift it and reveal the sordid tattoo.

"I just wanted to see if you're alright. You've been... distant," Alicia said.

"Yeah, um, just dealing with school, you know? Helping my friends study and all that." That was a lie. Beyond occasionally handling Gretchen's homework, Carmen hadn't set even a foot in the school in days.

"Your friends. Are they, uh, making you dress like that?" Alicia gestured to Carmen's attire, which only covered her stomach and thighs. Cleavage all but overflowed from the top, her skirt ended halfway down her thighs, just enough to cover the marks from a week ago.

"No. Well, kind of. Just suggestions and I figured I'd give it a try. Just something different," Carmen explained, almost by autopilot, just as Gretchen once ordered. Alicia's face sank, but she nodded.

"Long as you're happy."

"Love you, Mom," Carmen rushed from the door before she heard any response. Ten minutes left. If she was late, who knew what Gretchen would do. Write her name again, give her to that sorority, make her go after her friends, or expose herself around her family, get her arrested, put in a psychiatric ward, or... or... Carmen wiped at her eyes as she looked down; she was hard. Both dicks were erect, raised at the cursed thoughts.

She didn't have time to worry about them, however. Awkward bulge in plain view, Carmen power walked to her destination, as if led by her crotch. With seconds to spare, she stopped behind Gretchen's bubbly ass. A black spine stood out from the bitch's purse, a pen beside it. With those, she could right all the wrongs, fix her body and give Gretchen exactly what she deserved. Make her a slave, a permanent fixture in Carmen's room. Perhaps a literal cum dumpster, or cock-sock. Or give her the biggest cock in Earth's history.

"What're you doing?" Gretchen asked.

Carmen snatched her hand back, "Nothing."

"Uh huh," Gretchen rolled her eyes, "Whatever. We're going to the mall. My clothes are totally out of fashion now. You'll be paying for it all of course."

"Of course."

Hours later, after Gretchen had perused hundreds of new clothes, tried on almost as many, and all but spat at what she discarded, they were at the checkout. One issue turned Gretchen's jovial state to pure rage, as Carmen's card was declined.

"Why isn't it working?" Gretchen fumed.

"I don't know." Carmen tried again, no change. Then her phone vibrated. A text from Mom. Her hand shook, eyeing Gretchen's expression as they both read it. Nothing she did was secret from her.

I know you said your friends weren't forcing you into this, but I can't help but worry. So I called and got a limit put on your card. If they're your friends because you buy them things, they aren't your friends.

"Yeah, I know," Carmen whispered, then looked up. She wished her mother had waited. Now was the worst possible time; Gretchen had the Futa Note on her, fists shaking, eyes bubbling with rage and opalescent teeth grinding. If she had any chance of escape, Carmen would have run.

"Your Mom put a limit on your fucking card?" Gretchen snarled. Even the cashier didn't say anything. He just stared in silence, not getting involved one way or the other, despite having a way to save Carmen. All they needed was to let this one thing slide. Although, it was several thousands worth of clothes.

"Yes."

"So how the fuck am I supposed to get these?" Gretchen shook enough that it seemed like her limbs would pop off.

"Get a job?" Carmen offered, one that she regretted as Gretchen's eyes lit up, not with a sudden epiphany that she was a spoiled cunt in desperate need of a new personality, but malicious intent. Which, by itself, wasn't unusual, but it was the heat of it that forced Carmen to step back.

"Hey," Gretchen turned on the cashier, "You think she's hot?"

"Uh... y-yeah?" He answered, glancing at Carmen's more naturalistic curves.

"Pretend we paid for these and you can fuck her. Wherever, or however you want," Gretchen said and reached over to grope at Carmen's breasts, emphasising her point.

"For real?" His glances at Carmen turned to gawking, while she avoided meeting his gaze. Any say she might've had would be stomped on, turned into mush and tossed away into a junkyard. If she spoke out, Gretchen only needed to write one or two sentences to raze her very being. Worse, she could use it on her family. If she wrote Melody's name...

"Oh yeah, just ask her."

He did. Carmen mumbled an agreement, studying the ground.

"Hey Ross?! I'm taking my break," the cashier said and suddenly everything was in motion. Gretchen led Carmen, the desperate guy in front. Before long, they were in the employee restrooms, safe behind a locked door. At least they wouldn't be seen.

"Just one little thing," Gretchen told the cashier and pulled Carmen into a stall, "Just be good and I won't fuck up your mother's life. Firstly..." Gretchen took out the Futa Note and scribbled Carmen's name once more, then added the details. Not long after and that familiar, gut plummeting sensation, before heat replaced it. She looked at her skirt, which rose from the forced erections.

"What did you do this time?" Carmen asked, panting from arousal.

"Just making sure those don't get in the way," Gretchen said, wagging a finger at the trio of phalli, "Now go get me those clothes."

Carmen thanked whatever deity, be they Seikogami or not, that she could zone out during the act. And that it was short. What Gretchen wrote must've hidden her cocks from his perception, since he never mentioned them flopping around, leaking pre-cum against her will. At least she didn't cum; she didn't know if she could handle that humiliation. The blonde watched the whole thing, a smile on her face as the cashier finished up.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Gretchen chuckled as they left the store, her bags filled with new outfits, which Carmen carried for her.

"I hated every last millisecond of it," Carmen said.

"Hmm, but just think, if someone was willing to let me have a couple grand of clothes just to fuck your freak pussy, I could make a fucking fortune off you," Gretchen said, "I should've thought of this from the start."

Two days later and Carmen was in a motel room. Her body was obscene, more so than anything she'd thought of. Curves upon curves. Gretchen wrote her name again, this time in pencil to her relief. The 'client', if the scum she was meeting could be called such, was into chubby girls apparently, so Gretchen gave her a pot belly, breasts larger than life, and a rear designed to replace cushions and chairs. Her client walked in and she retreated back into her mind.

A day later and the same scene played out. Her body was changed again, this time with breasts larger than the filthy bed she was trapped on. That was what the guy liked and Gretchen, as the purveyor of fantasies, supplied it. That's what she called herself anyway. She was just a pimp. Carmen's pimp.

"I can't keep doing this," Carmen sobbed into her hands. That night's client had come and gone, though Gretchen hadn't undone the changes, leaving the futa to her misery, stuck on a bed crushed by her giant balls, ankle-deep in semen, and dealing with the possibility that her client - a woman - was likely pregnant given what Gretchen had told her; they were hugely into multiple pregnancies.

Just yesterday, Carmen had a pussy larger than watermelons. The day before that, her nipples were vaginas. And before that she was given an oral fetish, making her suck and lick her client without end. The people didn't treat her well either.

To them and Gretchen she was an object to be used. Perhaps that was her fate? She'd used the book on others, transformed their bodies without their knowledge, made them fall for her, someone they could never be with, and even used it to get ahead in life. Poetic justice, she thought. Maybe it was just her lot in life not to be happy for long? There was her father's death, losing Stacy, and now Gretchen had her life on a leash.

"Jesus fuck! I knew that bitch was freaky, but this is hilarious," Gretchen chortled as she entered the room, breaking Carmen's thoughts. Semen rushed out through the open door, but was shut in before dropping even a millimetre. The changes reversed a moment later, leaving Carmen with her relatively normal body, "Did you have fun?"

Carmen didn't respond and eyed the pool of jizz. Maybe she could slip Gretchen up and get the book before she got a word out? Oh, the things she'd write. Every humiliation, every threat, all returned a hundred-fold. Maybe she'd change her own entries, make it so she could cum endlessly and do it inside Gretchen, inflating her bigger than the bed, no, the room, until she popped. No more Gretchen.

"Whatever. You got to cum this time at least. Though I didn't. How about a freebie?"

"You'll do it anyway," Carmen groaned and laid back, restraining herself from slapping her own face as her cocks all hardened in anticipation.

"That's right," Gretchen said and straddled her. Carmen's cocks wedged between her too pert ass, which slid up and down, "You're my toy. From now until you die, bitch. Hehe, you're like a Barbie doll. I can pose you, dress you, change you into whatever fucked fantasy I wish, and fuck you whenever."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You know, much as I like getting a good dick in me, it's not exactly fun when you're so fucking boring."

"I'm sorry, it's a little hard to get enthused when you basically rape me and make me sleep with random people."

"Is that all? Not a problem. Until I say 'otherwise', far as you're concerned, I'm Rachel," Gretchen said. Carmen blinked once and there she was, Rachel, her petite body in its transformed state, hair loose and just as fiery as she remembered, those plump tits capped by juicy nipples, with a pussy so tight and familiar and... and...

"Are you serious?" Gretchen, still under Rachel's guise, roared with laughter, giggling as she ground her ass into Carmen's softening pricks, "I thought she was the love of your life. You know, your 'one and only', or at least a hot side-piece or something. But what do you do when you see her? You get soft!"

"It's your fault," Carmen said, grinding her teeth to keep from exploding at her. All her muscles screamed for her to choke Gretchen, squeeze her throat until the veins burst, but nothing moved. She didn't know what Gretchen had written specifically, but it must've accounted for such urges.

"Otherwise," Gretchen said and her visage returned. Just seconds later, to Carmen's despair, her cocks returned to full erection. The blonde slut giggled, "That's better. I suppose I need a different command then. Alright, Carmen. Fuck me like you love me."

Carmen resisted. With every fibre of her hatred for Gretchen, she held back, tried rolling off the bed and drown herself in the pool of semen. None of her attempts worked. Instead, she held Gretchen by the hips, rolled her over and kissed her. Though Gretchen was reluctant, she quickly reciprocated. Carmen ran her tongue across the bitch's lips, seeking entry, which she got seconds later. Their tongues wrestled, passing saliva between them, before Carmen snagged Gretchen's and sucked on it.

Those huge, fake tits called her hand to action. She groped at one, part of her detested being so close to Gretchen, another enjoyed the firmness pushing against her fingers and palm. The kiss deepened, while Carmen reached her free hand down, pulling the girl's skirt up and finding her sopping folds, unhampered by panties. One finger slid up and down, teasing penetration, before she pushed one, then two fingers inside. Gretchen moaned into her mouth.

When docile, the bitch was almost pleasant. Gretchen's own hands sought out curves to enjoy, which, unlike her own, were oh so soft and squeezable, but firm enough to bounce back when her fingers moved on. She massaged Carmen's curvaceous ass, pulling her crotch down, and spread her own legs, a blatant invite for those cocks to push into her. Carmen separated and, wordlessly, kissed her way down to the implants. She pecked across their round shapes until she came to the nipple and sucked it, areolae and all, into her mouth.

"Oh, this is how you treated Rachel? No wonder she likes you," Gretchen moaned, her words falling on deaf ears. No matter what she said, Carmen would keep going as if she were someone she tolerated, much less loved. She flicked her tongue at the nub, prodded the surrounding tanned-flesh and sampled the flavour of Gretchen's lotion. After a while, with her cocks throbbing to enter the dank heat they were so close to, she pulled back and looked down. Normally, she'd see Rachel's loving face and eyes overflowing with adoration and lust. Instead, she saw the cruellest bimbo with a look of expectant desire.

The worst of it was that Gretchen was sexy. Sure, everything about her, from her hair to her toenails, was fake in one way or another, but she wore it well. Between the tan, expertly applied makeup, and overt implants, she was the spitting image of most every teenage boys fantasy. Carmen dived back into those lips, painted with a glossy, cherry lipstick. If only her personality was sweet as they tasted.

"What're you waiting for?" Gretchen asked, a faint blush surfacing on her golden cheeks. Carmen didn't respond. Even if her body pretended that she was with someone she remotely cared for, her words would be anything but. She'd call the slut beneath her every name imaginable, try as best she could to shame her, yet it'd all be fruitless. Gretchen prided herself on how people detested her. That might be the only admirable part of her.

She didn't care what people thought. Or how she was graded. Expectations were something she created herself. What others expected of her, she exceeded because that's what she did. Gretchen just lived by her own rules it seemed.

Carmen never imagined a day she could do that. What the fuck gave this bitch the right to ordain her very existence? All the things Carmen had strived for, this slut took with the barest of effort. The life Carmen yearned for, to be happy and loved and free from any of this shit, Gretchen just lived. Isn't that what this life could be?

The thought briefly froze Carmen's lips on their way back to Gretchen's. Sure, it wasn't free, but that was only because she didn't accept it. If she approached the problem as an experience, something to be savoured and lived, then whatever Gretchen did to her would be something new to enjoy. She smothered her face in Gretchen's tits, not taking a breath until her lungs were on fire. What the fuck was she thinking?

"Get to it already," Gretchen breathed, voice light and airy, yet rough with desire. It tantalised Carmen's dicks, all four twitching in longing as they nestled between the girl's thighs. What to do with them all? The obvious one was to push into Gretchen's pussy and ass, while the others were left out. But this was a top tier slut, one that craved every dick just for her own pleasure. She could handle a quartet of fourteen-inch cocks, easy.

But all in the same hole, perhaps not.

Carmen grinned and reached down to herd her pricks together, all throbbing against each other, then pressed them against the slut's pussy. None for her ass. A moment of confusion passed Gretchen's face, then worry, then rage. She opened her mouth to shout a command, but Carmen silenced her with a kiss. If not for Gretchen's prior command, she might've tried getting the Futa Note then and there, but her body refused. Instead, her hips descended and stretched Gretchen around not one, not two, or even three massive cocks, but four.

Even the slut groaned in discomfort at being pried open so wide. Carmen grinned and moaned into the kiss, tongue scouring every inch of Gretchen's mouth, while she pushed inch after inch deeper inside. It wasn't easy, even Gretchen was tight as a virgin when stretched like that, but her pressure was relentless. As their groins met, Gretchen hooked her fingers into Carmen's nipple-piercings and twisted them. The sudden agony forced her lips away.

"Stop!" Gretchen shouted and Carmen froze, allowing the blonde to turn them over, putting her on top. Her once flat abdomen bulged obscenely with Carmen's members, all at a slightly different angle. As Gretchen spoke, she continued torturing the futa's nipples, "You fucking bitch. I said to fuck me like you love me."

"Rachel could handle it," Carmen said, barely holding back a snicker.

"Shut up. After I'm done here, I'll think of a punishment. You're lucky I like getting a good stretch," Gretchen set to work, rolling and bouncing her hips atop all four. She adjusted to the penetration, juices lubricating them all, despite her pussy being stretched by several inches of combined girth. No longer content with letting Carmen be passive, she compelled her to thrust, moan and grope at Gretchen's tits, while the blonde pulled and twisted Carmen's piercings. After hours of torture and forced orgasms, she was satisfied.

Carmen shambled back into her home. It was early morning, the sun was pushing the moon aside, yet she'd just gotten back. Leftover lasagne waited on the kitchen table, along with a note from her mother. Mom... the thought should've been laced with guilt and love, instead she felt a pang of hatred. If she had just stayed out of Carmen's business then... She pushed the thoughts down and read the note.

We need to talk properly once you're back. I'm worried about you. If it's too late, we'll talk in the morning. Love you, Mom

The tears wouldn't stop. She reheated the food and ate in silence, broken only by her sorrow as she imagined Melody and her mother with her. When was the last time they ate a meal together? Gretchen kept her out until well past dinner every day. She knew Melody missed her; they hadn't played together or even spoken more than a few words in the past week. Part of it was Gretchen's timing, but also Carmen's shame. How could she look at her little sister, who adored her unconditionally, when she was little more than a whore now?

Everything because she hadn't used the Futa Note to remove Gretchen sooner. If she'd just done that, then Mary, Dakota, Ashley, Zoey wouldn't have been necessary. Perhaps Mary, since she led them first, but no one else. What about Rachel? They'd still get together somehow Carmen hoped. Or would she still be with Stacy? She might've written her name instead. What kind of dick would suit Stacy? Something fat and juicy with balls the size of grapefruit.

She chuckled through her tears at the distractions. If only she had a reset button.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll wake up and it'll all have been a dream?" Carmen mused as she sank into her bed, praying that it would be a reality.

"Carmen? Finally, we meet again."

Carmen blinked at her surroundings. It was her room, but obscured by a dreamy blur, and straddling her body was the Futa Note. In a strange way, she'd missed it. The body that might be her future seemed like a dream compared to what Gretchen put her through. She reached up and held onto those inhumanly tempting hips.