Part 2
Quantum Bound
Part 2: Call Me Cooch
(Story by Indigocarmine, all artwork by KSG)
“What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?”
“I have a venturous fairy that shall seek...” My top half begins.... “....Coach, line!”
I wrack my brain for our place while the audience and other actors stare at us glassy eyed, cowed by the curse. “The squirrel’s hoard...” I say through gritted teeth. My head is starting to throb from all the blood rushing to it.
“The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts!”
“Pah!” Roars Bottom like a jackass, “I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas! But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.”
“Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.” My body mate says fondly and then regally announces: “Fairies, be gone, and be all the ways away!”
The fairies skip and flitter off stage and Bronte, my bodymate whispers to me, “Coach! I’m blanking on the next part!”
I take a deep breath and say, “Recite after me:
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle,
Gently entwist; the female ivy so
Endings the barky fingers of the elm.
O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!”
“...How I dote on thee!” Bronte finishes merrily. And then we awkwardly bring our bizarre body to the ground and curl up with Donkeyboy while Puck and Oberon enter the scene to ramble for a bit. I rub my sore arms, trying to get some feeling back into them before we have to stand again. And to think, I was so stoked to have arms again! Blah, this body layout sucks! I’m conjoined to Bronte in the weirdest way yet, what I’m calling a Queen of Farts conjoinment where we are joined at the hips so that Bronte looks like a normal Titania from the waist up, and from the waist down has an inverted me. The upside is that I have arms I can control for once, but the downside is that I’m the downside, especially here on stage. It ain’t easy being legs. I glance fondly at Donkeyboy, newfound respect for a fellow Bottom.
I take a deep breath. We’re on Act 4, Scene 1 which means we are almost there. Just a few more lines for Titania here and I’ll be off to my next assignment. Just gotta tough it out a little more.
“... Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen!” Oberon shouts to a dramatically reawakening Bronte before reaching down to help pull us back onto my exhausted arms.
And now for my favourite line in the whole damn play: “My Oberon, what visions I have seen! Methought I was enamour’d of an ass!” And Bronte absolutely nails it. What a champ!
Oberon: “There lies your love.”
Bronte screeches in horror. “How came these things to pass!?” I shuffle a hand-step closer to Bottom and Bronte leans in, scowling, “ O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!”
Oberon says to Puck: “Silence a while. Robin, take off this head.” And then to us while Puck pulls off the donkey mask, “ Titania, music call, and strike more dead. Than common sleep of all these five the sense.“
Bronte makes sweeping arms, “Music, ho, music, such as....”
“Charmeth sleep,” I prompt.
“Charmeth sleep!” She announces.
Some harp music starts to play and Oberon and Puck chatter for a bit. I’m counting down the seconds until we are backstage and trying not to collapse. Hurry up you longwinded douchbags! And then Bronte clears her throat for our last lines in the scene:
“Come, my lord, and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night
That I sleeping here was found,
With these mortals on the ground.”
I feel an increasingly familiar tingle of magic; the plays not over, but it seems it’s good enough for the curse. I guess Bronte’s got it from here? “Break a leg!” I say quickly, “Y’know, if they grow back...”
***
And I then I wake up attached to someone new.
I blink my eyes, I seem to be under the covers of a bed with a particularly low thread count. I try to move my head to get a better view, but no, I’m immobile. Hmm. I close my eyes and take a sniff and learn the bed hasn’t been freshly laundered. I hear a woman mumble somewhere above me and feel our body shift in bed. A hand sleepily slides over our flank, along our thighs, and brushes my cheek? Huh? And then fingers stroke my lips sparking a decidedly sexual feeling. Oooh... What!? Oh, no!
A cheap old alarm clock blares and I feel our body jump upright.
“Fuck!” The woman grumbles, swinging our two legs off the bed. She yawns, stretches our four arms, and stands, my view wobbling as she lurches to the bathroom. Without turning on the lights she sits, pees, which thankfully comes out of somewhere new, rubs her face with all four hands and says: “Huh?”
“You’re going to want a mirror,” I say. “Probably a full body one.”
“What the fuck!?’
***
We are in a very messy room, the studio apartment of a 20-something girl who clearly doesn’t value tidiness. Piles of laundry, scattered dirty dishes, an unmade bed on a floor mattress, and mismatched furniture clearly rescued from the curbside. I smile, thinking back to my own scuzzy youth. My new bodymate maneuvers us through the refuse to a mirror and yanks a hanging black dress off it, revealing a beautiful standing mirror with a carved wooden frame and chipped gilt paint, clearly a choice secondhand find. We both gasp when we see ourselves.
The girl I’m attached to is cute and kind of punky, with short black hair cropped in a messy pixie cut. She’s pale and quite skinny with a cute nose and a few too many piercings in her ears and tongue. The curse has given her four arms and four smallish, perky breasts on her chest, but left her with the usual two legs and undercarriage. Except for me. Incredibly my face has merged with our body’s crotch so that my eyes peek out from her pubic mound and my mouth sits about where her vagina should be. And judging from all the sexy feelings being given off by my lips, gums, and tongue, my mouth *is* her pussy. Which, this is a new one for me. “I’ve been called a cunt before, but this is ridiculous.”
“Woah,” my bodymate says, “It feels really, uh, wild when you talk.” She blushes and hides behind her eye lashes.
“It certainly does,” I say, trying to ignore a not unpleasant tingle in my lips and gums. “Hi, I’m Coach.”
“Angela,” the woman replies, taking this rather well. “Is this magic?”
“You believe in magic?”
“Well, not really? I went through a Wiccan phase in high school; y’know silly spells for cute boys and good parties and stuff. But I grew out of it. Mostly.” She laughs a little and cups our four tits, “But I mean, how else can you explain this? Unless this is a dream?”
“Nope, it’s real. And magic.”
“Fucking wild,” she says. “What gives?”
“Well... the short version is I accidentally pissed off a witch and she cursed me to be a traveling head. The deal is that I magically appear attached to someone, in this case you, and have to help them solve a problem. When we solve the problem, Zap! I’m gone and stuck onto someone new.”
“Dang,” she says, reaching down and poking my forehead, the smooth upper part of her crotch. I feel something hard in my mouth, stick out my tongue, and see the cursed amethyst, now magically a stud piercing.
“Yeah. I don’t know why you have extra arms or breasts, but my theory is it’s a conservation of mass thing? The good news is that everyone will think you look totally normal; that you’ve always been this way, and that there isn’t anything weird about it. The other good news is that nobody will notice me either or hear us talk. I’m basically invisible. Which means that you can just go about your life normally while we work on solving whatever it is that you need coaching to help solve.”
“Are you sure I’m not still dreaming?”
I roll my bottom lip between my teeth and give it a gentle, yet firm bite . Angela yelps. “Not a dream.”
“Okay, so what now?”
“Well, what am I here to help you with?”
Angela thinks for a moment and then looks sheepish and starts blushing. “Oh god, you’re not going to like this....”
“What? Why?”
“I think you’re here to help me lose my virginity.”
Oh fuck me in the face.
***
Angela is rapidly chopping vegetables in a restaurant kitchen while just awful punk rock blares in the background. It seems my virgin bodymate is a prep chef at a cute little seawall adjacent bistro and a fan of badly played guitars and shouting. I sigh, being a pussy in the kitchen is boring.
Usually I try to play tourist when I’m stuck in other people’s lives; gawking at their homes and family or enjoying a first person view of their jobs, but you actually need a neck to rubberneck. And so I get to enjoy the view of the brushed stainless door to a low boy fridge with the occasional hip sway or mad shakeycam foray to the walk-in to fetch something. I close my eyes and feel the rhythm of our body. The sensations of Angela working are pretty wild: the casual, practiced way she holds a carrot in one hand while rapidly making her knife dance in another, the controlled way she scoops up diced vegetables with a bench scraper held in a third hand, and then quickly wipes the cutting board with a rag clutched in her fourth. It’s like a kind of bladed dance, one she’s made more efficient with our transformed body. Part of me is jealous of her elegance. But most of me is annoyed about being stuck to a crotch.
Angela is wearing an outfit that seems designed to accommodate me today so at least I’m not wedged into a sweaty pair of panties. She is rocking thigh-high black knit socks, a flirty black top that rides just above her hips, and no pants or underwear. We were both a little worried that her bare pussy-faced look was going to get us arrested, but the total lack of bottoms in her reality altered wardrobe didn’t leave us a lot of options. When we hesitantly left Angela’s basement suite studio, no one seemed to notice anything odd about our bare ass, so pantslessness must be normalized by the curse. We hopped on Angela’s bicycle and I endured a horrible ride to work, being jostled by deceptively muscular thighs, having my chin ground into an unforgiving seat, and staring at the ground while cars rushed past or honked abuse. It was like the most uncomfortable, terrifying carnival ride of my life. Being a pussy sucks!
“Hey Angie,” a male voice says, “behind again?”
“Hi Tony,” Angela says kind of shyly. I feel our heart beat faster and feel her chopping rhythm slow a little. Blood rushes to Angela’s cheeks and also to mine, but in a much different way. Oh, so it’s a workplace thing.
“Is that him?” I say.
“Quiet!” Angela says aghast.
“Don’t worry about it, he can’t hear anything we say. See: Hey Tony! It’s me Angela’s pussy! I’m so wet for you! La la la-la-la!”
Tony doesn’t react at all and Angela blushes furiously. “Don’t do that!”
I laugh, which is actually a very nice feeling. “Sorry, but it’s Tony, right?”
I feel Angela nod, still blushing.
“Turn us around so I can see him!”
“What!? No!”
“If I’m going to be playing the role of sex orifice here, I want to at least see the dude who’ll be fucking me.”
“Fiiiine...” my perspective shifts so that I’m facing a dude wearing a black cook’s uniform sharpening a big ass knife. He’s barely on the taller side of average and has a lean, rangy build. His face is that skinny kind of angular with big blue eyes and curly dirty blond hair. He catches Angela looking at him and smiles, instantly becoming 20% cuter, and tosses her a wink. Based on first appearances he has kind of a scruffy piratical air about him, like, well, a good looking young dude working in a kitchen.
“Not bad,” I say. Not the kind of dude I would pick out for myself, a bit too cocky maybe, but good looking enough for a mission centric one night stand. I think I can fuck this guy. “We can work with this.”
“Sorry, I am a bit in the weeds,” Angela says to Tony, apparently ignoring her vagina’s commentary. “I woke up feeling... weird this morning.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“Just... lady stuff?” Angela says.
“No! Don’t say that!” I whine, “We are trying to close the deal here!” So I can get myself out of your cooch.
“Gross,” Tony says with a charming smile. “Well, show me what needs to be done and I’ll get chopping.” He frowns, “But we gotta turn off this shitty music if I’m gonna help.”
I grin, sexy points plus 5.
***
We are sitting with Tony on a seawall adjacent patio having drinks. A nice cold beer for the boy and a very foamy cappuccino for us. Although I can’t see either drink or enjoy the view of the marina because I am stuck under the table staring at Tony’s crotch. Which, I guess is actually appropriate since I plan to get intimately acquainted with it. So why hello there sir. Cum here often?
My two would be lovers are on a break together. It seems that the lunch rush, which is more of a steady trickle of tourists, is a two person tag team with Tony manning the kitchen and Angela doing pretty much everything else. Guests walk in and Angela swerves over to usher them to a table, then she swishes over to drop off the check with another pair of diners, before heading to another table to take an order. Then she rushes to the kitchen, finishes plating a couple waiting orders, and delivers them to happy waiting customers. Someone needs a drink? Angela the bartender to the rescue. Dirty table and a quiet second? She’s got it bussed in a flash. Swell of orders has Tony swamped? Angela hops on the line and expedites. She is a one woman restaurant hustle machine. And as her crotch, I was treated to a frantic, shaking view of all the action. At least until the evening crew showed up and sent the lovebirds for their pre-dinner service break.
And so here Tony and Angela are sipping drinks and flirting. It’s mostly dumb date bullshit, arguing playfully about bands sprinkled with restaurant industry gossip. I don’t really listen but I can tell it’s going well because I can feel Angela blush and play with her hair with one of our hands while cradling her warm coffee in another pair. I also feel a certain warmth in my face. I’m not gushing or anything, but this pussy is feeling a bit of heat. Angela is into it, and if I’m any judge of guys, the feeling is mutual. Despite my limited perspective, I definitely caught Tony smiling at us when we weren’t looking and checking out our ass; not in a holy shit it’s naked way, which it is, but in the normal boys-like-cute-butts kind of way. I just know he wants to fuck us. So now all we need to do is do it.
“Hey”, Tony says as they finish their drinks. “I gotta run back to my place for a minute before dinner service. Want to join me?”
“Yes!” I say from under the table. “This is it gurl!”
“Ummmm...” Angela says, blushing like the naïf she is.
Damnit, don’t you back out on me! I want to get this over with! Thinking fast I lick my lips, sending a jolt of sexual pleasure through our body. Ohhh, that’ll work. I run my tongue over the palate of my mouth which makes Angela jump a little and squirm. You aren’t getting out of this that easily. I keep licking my mouth and lips, feeling my face get warmer, and starting to drool heavily. One wet ass pussy down here. I feel my lips swell, and my gums engorge, fluids seeping out of my mouth. Angela gasps and her face feels like it must be bright red, “Ohhhh, oh god, I h-h-have to go!”
“Okay?” Tony says, sounding more confused than hurt.
“I-I’m sorry!” Angela moans, as I keep eating myself out, “I’ll see you later!”
Anglea stands and waddles, making us walk not unlike we have to pee, her face bright red as I just keep licking and sucking at my mouth, juices dribbling down my chin and off her crotch. Angela steers us into the tiny, graffiti varnished single use bathroom, kicks the door closed, locks it, and plunks us onto the toilet seat. She spreads our thighs reaches down and jams her fingers into my mouth, stroking and gasping. I moan around her fingers, overcome with the sensations of being a pussy. My mouth is hugely swollen inside, my teeth swallowed by soft engorged gums, my tongue pulsing like a clit, the roof of my mouth rock hard and burning hot with aroused tissues. Angela strokes us harder and faster, rubbing my slick and swollen lips, dipping her fingers into my mouth, stretching my opening, stroking my palate, making us both pant and moan. I lick at her hand with my tongue, lick myself, each time sending an electric jolt through our body. I’m delirious, I feel like I’m floating and huge and growing like a balloon. Waves of pleasure crash against me, my whole being is hot and wet and need. And then I feel it all at once, like gravity or an avalanche, I’m stretched to breaking and then AHHHHHHHH!!! I’m fucking coming with my whole being! I bite down on Angela’s fingers and suck, my whole mouth spasming! Fuck! Fuckkkk! Ooooooooo!
Ooh.
Oh my fucking god.
Oh. Wow.
“Jesus,” I sputter, although it comes out distorted and soggy, my mouth still mostly cunt.
“Yeah...” gasps Angela, who is laying almost bonelessly on the toilet breathing heavily. Our legs feel like tingly rubber and all four of our hands are numb. She opens and closes them, trying to return feeling, and sighs happily. “Fuck, that was wild!”
We bask like that for a while, until Angela pulls off some toilet paper and gently cleans my face, sits up and pees, which thankfully has been replumbed to come out the backdoor. Angela leans back down on the toiletseat. “Is it that good when it’s for real?” She asks, kind of timidly.
“That was kind of a unique experience for me,” I say, pleased to note my mouth is mostly mouth again. I lick my teeth and Angela squirms a little. “But first times usually suck a little, since it hurts and well, young guys are idiots. But you don't really have standard equipment and Tony seems like he knows how a pussy works...”
“What was your first time like?”
I laugh. “Oh man, so stupid! I kept my V-card in high school because my boyfriend was just the last unattached person when everyone in our friend group paired off. He was nice or whatever, but I wasn’t gonna waste my flower on him.” I smirked, “I was saving myself for someone special. But then I went to college and it seemed like everyone in the dorm was running around having carefree casual sex. I felt left out, and started to see my virginity as a burden. So I found a cool enough guy, split a six-pack of cheap beer with him, and got it over with.”
“And?”
“And it sucked! Our mouths tasted like shitty lager and we didn’t do enough foreplay, so I wasn’t really ready or wet enough, and it hurt, like it does, and I bled a bit. To top it all off Pistol Pete got too excited and came like right when I was maybe getting into it.” I grinned, “But at least I’d gotten it over with!”
Angela frowned and shifted on our toilet throne, “You aren’t really selling me on this...”
I laughed, “Well let me tell you about the first time I had an orgasm from pee-in-vee intercourse. After my first year of college, me and a couple girlfriends took a backpacking trip to Europe; Italy and the other Adriatic countries mostly. In this little tourist town in Croatia we met these Australians and there was this one guy, totally gorgeous and buff, but kind of a jock and maybe a bit of a dick. I lusted after him in this idiotic primal way, even if I knew he was probably bad news. But fuck it, it was a vacation right? And so we fucked, and it. Was. Amazing! Just absolute sexual chemistry! Sparks! Bonfires! Supernovas!”
“So it was good?”
“It was great! We spent maybe a week together fucking like rabbits and annoying our friends until we parted ways, leaving each other with chafing and memories.” I smile and feel my cheeks warm a little with arousal, “And oh what memories! The feeling of his weight pressing down onto me, pushing into me, going tantalizingly slow. The feeling of him behind me, thrusting as hard as he could, his balls slapping against me. Him holding me up and fucking me against the wall, making my girlfriends in the next room swear at us. Me on top, riding him, making a show of touching my tits, him looking up with a kind of worshipful adoration. Us laying on the beach afterward, tired and achy, a fresh hicky blooming on my neck, his back marked by scratches. And yeah, the first time I orgasmed from a cock inside me, squealing a little, and clutching my Australian lover to myself as I experienced sexual transcendence.”
I feel Angela blush, “Okay that sounds sexier.”
“And it’s even better when it’s with someone you actually love,” but don’t think about Jack and his scratchy flannel shirt and stubble and sawdust smell. About how he made you feel or how hard he made you come. “But anyway, I never would have had the confidence to have a vacay fling if I hadn’t gotten the whole virginity thing over with. And I doubt I would've had so much fun with my Aussie Lover if I hadn’t slept with a few other college dudes before my trip. Part of having good sex is having mediocre sex and learning what you like, what works for you, and figuring out how to find your groove with a partner.” I smile encouragingly even if Angela can’t see my face. “I can’t promise sex with Tony is going to be great or anything, but I bet it won’t be terrible and it’ll at least get you over the hump. And I’ll be there, helping as much as I can to make it fun, since y’know, as your pussy I have a vested interest in the sex being good. Okay?”
“Yeah, thanks Coach.”
***
“Woah,” Tony says as he climbs the rickety steel ladder up onto the restaurant roof.
“Uh, hi,” Angela says bashfully.
After we were cut from the dinner shift, me and my bodymate had been busy setting up our little rooftop love nest to my specifications. We grabbed a nice pile of mostly clean blankets from Angela’s filthy studio and brought them up onto the bistro roof, a memorable place to do the deed. The roof is just about completely hidden from view, especially in the dark, giving us just the right amount of privacy. Our love nest overlooks the seawall and offers a nice view of the marina, squatter boats bobbing in the inlet like candles, and the brightly lit windows of glass highrise apartments across the water, giving the spot a nice romantic vibe. The air is still warm with summer heat, but also crisp with a slight ocean chill; filled with a briny ocean scent and the sound of gentle waves. It’s just about perfect.
“Say something,” I grunt when my two would be lovers awkwardly remain apart.
“Uh, hey Tony... why don’t you come sit with me?” Angela asks timidly. She is dressed in an oversized hoodie, unzipped but wrapped over our otherwise naked body, four breasts hidden but ready to come out, long legs stretched out in the cool air.
“Right,” Tony says, sounding a bit too hesitant for my liking. But he comes and sits next to us on our improvised bed. “This is quite the set up.”
“Yeah,” Angel says, “my pussy thought it would be a good idea...”
“What?”
“Nevermind!” Angel blushes, “Earlier when you invited me back to your place, I, uh, thought you might've wanted to....
“Have sex? Yeah. I really like you Angie, and thought maybe you liked me too.”
“I do! I just, maybe, freaked out a bit...”
Tony chuckled, “I noticed.”
“Time for the honest part,” I remind Angela.
Angela takes a deep breath and clenches our four hands. “It’s just that, well, I’m still a virgin...”
“Ohhhhh, that makes so much more sense!” Tony shifts his weight next to us, “Sorry for being so direct earlier, I didn’t mean to like, pressure you into something you’re uncomfortable with.”
“No! It’s okay!” Angela says, absentmindedly letting her hoodie slip open, showing off her four breasts. “I really want to have sex with you!”
And then Tony is kissing her on the mouth. Angela freezes for a second, startled like a deer, but then she is kissing him back, pulling him toward her hungrily with four arms. The pair are making out, lips locked, tongues darting. Tony slips his arms inside our sweatshirt to caress our back, clutch our ass, feels up a tit or four. I moan, feel my face getting hot, my mouth getting wet. Yesss. Angela helps Tony take off his shirt, and I’m pleased to see a guy who works out with a solid thatch of chest hair. She shrugs out of her sweatshirt entirely and Tony kisses our neck, chews softly on a shoulder, just above a collarbone. Angela gasps with appreciation and I drool in agreement. Tony takes his time, slowly making his way down to our tits, touching and kissing and rubbing, maybe clutching a little, before he attaches himself to a nipple, sucking and, with an electric sensation, gently biting. He lingers there, paying attention to each of our four breasts, making Angela squirm and pant, and making my teeth recede into my swelling, soaking gums. I’m so ready! Pussy wants cock!
Tony pushes Angela flat on her back, lifts our legs, and looks down at our pussy, at me. I blush, my mouth swollen and open, glistening with arousal. Tony leans slowly in and kisses me on my lips, gently at first. I kiss him back, hungrily, desperately. And then we are making out, man and mutant pussy, a French kissing cunninglingus hybrid that makes Angela gasp and pant and thrash and makes me wild with ecstasy. Don’t stop! Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop! I feel myself swelling, growing hotter, getting ready to cum! Fucking finish me, I want to scream! I want to come!
And then Tony is leaning back, watching us both pant and whine. “Are you ready,” he asks, “Do you want this?”
“Fucking yes!” I slobber while Angela bites her lips and nods, flushed and breathing hard.
Tony takes off his pants and underwear, releasing his erect, straining cock. He pulls his wallet out of his pants, pulls out a condom, and makes a show of rolling it over his dick. He leans over us, his cock hovering right above my face. Up close like this it looks huge, like a leviathan. A huge hard beast that I’m about to engulf inside myself. I’m nervous, but also desperate for it. I lick my lips and Angela moans pleadingly. And then Tony is pressing his cock against my lips, pushing. I open my mouth straining to let him in, one part penetration one part fellatio. He grunts gently as he starts to slide into my wet mouth. I moan, mind shattered by the feeling of myself being stretched by his girth, filled completely by his hot length. I gag in joy as he pulls slowly back, we are virgin no more. And then he is thrusting into us, and it feels so fucking good. No pain, nothing tearing, just Angela gasping in pleasure and me, her eager pussy, wet and filled and begging to come. Tony takes his time, steady, but always growing faster, always thrusting a little harder. I feel myself slipping, losing control, just awash in the feeling and the pounding of his cock. And then, and then suddenly, I feel myself explode, expand, translate, and I’m orgasming, clamping down on his cock and sucking as hard as I can, rhythmically as Angela emits a little sharp cry and writhes below Tony as we come. Tony let himself go after another couple thrusts, and I feel his cock start to pulse inside the embrace of my mouth, his condom inflate around his hot jizz. Mission accomplished!
Tony falls atop us and sighs happily and Angela says “That was fucking wild!”
And then suddenly I’m gone...
***
AND FALLING OUT AN AIRPLANE!!!
"AHHHHHHHH!!!!"
NAKED!!!
"AHHHHHHHH!!!"
MOTHERFUCKER!!!
***
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