Recursion C.X.

RECURSION

C.X.

Olive and Jo step through the doorway into the modest bungalow foyer. Olive sighs and unbuttons her long grey coat, “I really could have used a night in tonight.”

Jo pulls her loose shirt over her head uncovering her nude upper body. “Do you want to be the kind of lesbian who stays home and knits and watches reruns of Star Trek DS9, or the kind of lesbian who gets invited to sexy parties?”

Olive opens her coat to reveal she’s completely naked underneath, “Sexy parties.”

“Great,” Jo says, kicking off her shorts and shoes. “Then what are our rules?”

“We come together, we play together, we leave together.”

Jo grins, “Tonight’s safeword is ‘Oatmeal’.”

“Oatmeal?”

“It’s cute, and there’s nothing sexual about oatmeal.”

“Oh sweet innocent Jo…”

“I choose not to know,” Jo walks over to a large paint can filled with a shiny purple fluid.

Olive snerks, “You’re missing out.”

Jo ignores her and picks up an industrial paintbrush which she coats in the thick fluid. She grins at her wife and asks: “The usual?”

“Am I getting so predictable?” Olive blushes, but the butterflies in her belly say yes. She nods and lifts her arms out from her sides like a letter T. Jo grins and paints Olive’s left arm with purple goop, working from her shoulder, down her bicep, past her elbow, along her forearms, and finally coating her hand. Jo dips the brush in the bucket, and repeats the process with the other arm. Olive holds up her arms in front of herself and looks at them, now coated in shiny dark purple latex. Her heart beats faster and she feels her nipples ache and tighten. She presses her fingers together and feels them meld, flow together and merge into mittens, into flippers. Olive moans and watches as her merged hands contract into her wrists and her forearms shrink up into her elbows. She feels that familiar excitement building as her arms dwindle away, melting and retracting, until she is left completely armless, left with nothing but smooth rounded shoulders covered in purple latex paint. Olive grins at Jo, her cheeks rosy, and pushes out her chest. “Do my legs next.”

Jo dunks the brush back in the vat of magical paint and Olive sticks out a leg provocatively. Jo paints the leg working down thigh, over calf, and coating foot. Olive stretches her foot and feels the latex paint warm and constrict, pull together her toes and lock her ankle into a permanent ballet pointe. She lifts her weight onto her latex coated toe, feels her calf strain, a delicious discomfort. Jo reloads the paintbrush and coats the other leg with latex, which quickly molds into a matching boot. Olive minces on her toes, an armless woman with built-in latex thigh high ballet boots. She stretches her body, savoring how elegant she feels, how useless and aesthetic, like living artwork. She tosses her hair and smoulders at her wife: “Let’s find someone to get you into costume.”

Olive sashays into the next room and calls: “Jojo, come.”

***

Jojo rests on her hands and knees like a good girl while Olive struts around her, making a show of deciding how she wants to change her wife, “Hmm… what to do, what to do?”

“TimeSss ticking,” Lydia says with a smirk. 

Olive pouts and would have put hands to hips if she still had arms. “Genius can’t be rushed.”

Lydia rolls her eyes and adjusts the long latex serpentine tail which has replaced her legs. She swirls a paintbrush in another can of magical paint with one of her six latex arms, “Maybe you should have kept your handSss.”

“Okay, fine,” Olive says. “Start with her face. I want my puppy to have a muzzle and sound like the cute little bitch she is.”

“ExSssellent,” Lydia hisses, slithering over to Jojo. She grips Jojo’s head and tilts, carefully slathers purple latex over her nose and mouth and chin. Jojo feels a moment of panic as the thick paint covers her nostrils and lips, choking off her air, but she calms and holds her breath as her face warms like a blush and stretches, flowing into her vision in a purple cylinder. She feels her mouth open too wide and her long, hot tongue spill out of her mouth past sharp canine teeth. Jojo takes a breath through her new nose, a deep inhale that makes her nostrils flare and the room explode in scent: rubbery magical latex, sweat, cooking smells, the funky tang of feminine arousal, cannabis, Olive. Jojo looks up at her master and pants.

“Speak,” Olive commands and Jojo lets out a clear canine bark. “Good girl,” Olive says, making Jojo blush.

“EarSss?” 

“Floppy,” Olive says.

Jojo feels her ears smothered in thick latex and briefly the world goes silent except for the thrum of her own racing heartbeat. She feels the purple paint ooze into her ear canals like molten wax and then a swelling slither as her ears stretch into dangling dog ears that hang down to her chin like a Beagle. Jojo shakes her head and feels her ears flop, sound returning sharper than before: the party, laughter, music, Lydia’s hissing breath, the thunder of Olive’s excited heart. She barks and marvels at the new volume.

“So cute,” Olive sighs and Jojo blushes darker, ashamed at how excited that makes her feel.

Lydia slops more latex onto the brush and Olive says: “Beg.” Jojo stands up on her knees and holds up her balled hands in front of her chest, purple canine mouth open and panting: please can I have a treat. Lydia grins and carefully paints Jojo’s arms from bicep to fingertips with purple latex and Jojo whimpers as her fingers contract and her hands reform into clumsy paws with thick canine pads. She feels her arms stretch, getting stronger and a little longer, becoming rubberized forelegs. Jojo falls back down onto her knees and front paws, lifts her right leg and holds it aloft for Lydia to paint from hip to toe. “So eager,” Olive gushes, “Good girl.” Jojo drops her freshly painted leg and lifts the other one, holds still while it’s painted, then yelps as the latex heats up and she feels her hindlimbs twist and buckle, her feet lengthen and toes shrink into paws, until she stands on four purple canine limbs, a quadruped. Lydia paints on a thick rubber collar and Jojo feels her head melt into a new forward position to match her natural four-legged stance. As a final touch Lydia plops a blob of latex onto Jojo’s backside, right where her spine meets her tailbone. Jojo barks as she feels a sharp tug, the rubber elongating into a wagging purple latex tail.

“SssatiSssfied?” 

“Not quite,” Olive says, “Jojo, roll over.”

Jojo obediently rolls onto her back, rubber canine limbs in the air, heart racing, tail swishing back and forth on the floor. Olive tiptoes over and carefully touches her ballet foot down on Jojo’s chest, marking out four spots on her ribs: “Bitches have more tits.” Olive slides her toe lower still, rubbing it on Jojo’s slick cunt, making Jojo whine. “And I like my puppies to be male.”

“ASss you command,” Lydia sketches a salute and slathers paint all over Jojo’s torso and down between her legs. Jojo squirms on her back, paws in the air, she’s coated with magical latex from her collarbones down to her crotch, a wet weight that grows warmer by the second. Jojo whimpers as she feels her body pulling into the goo, like she’s the one made of liquid and being poured into a mold, her chest bulges with soft weight, her breasts swelling, new tits growing on her ribs, on her belly, her torso crowding with six large purple latex boobs. Jojo whimpers, pants, and then howls as her crotch suddenly heats! Vulcanizing fury! The magical latex pushing inside her! Invading her cunt, gluing it closed! Sealing her sex, before drawing her body out again, flowing, swelling, throbbing! The lump of a canine sheath, pressure and a sensation like falling, and the sudden weight of two large rubber testicles crowding her thighs, and then pounding, hammering force as a cylinder of latex is forced out of her crotch, out of her sheath, gaining shape and definition as it grows, a pointed glans, a long slick shaft, the rubbery wide bulge of a knot, a cock! Her cock! Her own canine penis! Jojo whimpers and nearly cums, writhes on her back, wants to paw at herself, to lick herself, to climb onto Olive and fuck her brains out. “Jojo, up!” Olive commands and Jojo obediently rolls onto her paws and stands, trembling at the new weight hanging from her body, the jostle and rub of her six crowded tits, the awful throb and ache of her erect purple rubber dog cock, the terrible unsatisfied desire in her belly.

“Perfect,” Olive says, grinning at her wife reduced to a horny beast, leering at her pet. “Time for us to go for walkies and show you off a bit.”

Jojo whimpers and gives her master a pleading, desperate look.

Olive smiles with her teeth and says, “Jojo, come.”

***

“She’s so cute!” Anna squeals, clapping her elongated, three-fingered, webbed rubber hands. 

“Thank you,” Olive says while Jojo blushes and wags her tail.

“So perfect for her,” Anna continues, reaching down to stroke Jojo on the head, “I think you really captured her. I always have such a hard time choosing what to do at these things!”

Olive and Jojo share a look of marital amusement: Anna has painted herself into a mishmash of ideas like she always does. She’s given herself latex rubber horse legs with narrow hooves, a bulbous fat lizardy tail that ends in a fleshy flower, four big breasts with mismatched dick nipples and tit cunts arranged like a lewd checkerboard, and a bulbous rubber belly containing a kangaroo pouch. She also gave herself little purple rubber bat wings, big mutant frog hands, devil horns, tentacle hair, and a long phallic trunk instead of a nose. Anna was always the most chaotic pervert at the party and an absolute menace wielding the magical paintbrush. Olive shrugs her truncated shoulders, “You don’t say…”

Anna smiles and her head tentacles writhe happily, “Maybe you can help me? I’m trying to decide what to do with Milly.” Milly shuffles nervously. The leggy dancer is already painted into bondage with her arms melted away and her legs molded into tall latex ballerina boots like Olive, but with the added indignity of her head and face erased under a seamless mask of purple latex. Olive assumes the submissive girl was blind and mute, but it seems like she can still hear what was going on, probably to tease her. Anna splays her long rubbery fingers, “I thought since you two matched already, we could try something a little crazy!”

Jojo whines and Olive minces a nervous en pointe step backward, “I don’t know, Anna…”

Anna reaches into her belly pouch and retrieves a mason jar full of magic latex and a paintbrush, “Come on, don’t be so boring! Me and Milly talked it over and she’s super excited! Do it for her?”

“Milly, is this true?” Olive has no problem brushing off Anna, but has a softer spot for Milly.

Milly nods her smooth rubber head enthusiastically.

“Well alright…” Olive can already tell she’ll regret this.

“Awesome!” Anna gallops the tiny distance to Olive and slathers a thick coating of latex on her lower back and ass. “What?” Olive says, stumbling awkwardly on her toes to keep from falling over. “You’ll see,” Anna sings as she dumps the rest of the latex paint over Milly’s head, spreading the goo all over her skull and neck and shoulders. “What are you doing?” Olive frowns as Anna leads Milly to stand behind Olive, arranging them back to back. “Ready?” Anna asks and Milly does a backward trust fall onto Anna’s arms, dropping into a kind of supported back bridge, ballet toes planted on the floor, legs spread wide, chest and head facing up to the ceiling. “Okay!” Anna says and rams Milly headfirst into Olive’s latex coated ass. “Hey!” Olive squeals, stumbling forward, except the fresh wet magical latex on her ass and Milly’s head has already flowed together, annealed, glued, connected the two women. Jojo barks and Olive says “Oh fuck,” as she feels a blast of molten heat in her ass and then a sudden epiphany of connection to a whole other body, to Milly, as the magic paint smooths the gap between them, as Milly’s head and neck and shoulders disappear into Olive’s body, as they merge together into a single being. Olive moans and stumbles and all four legs respond to her, the two forward tiptoes and the two trailing rear-facing ballet feet too. She feels all of her armless body, but also Milly’s entire bridged body: her slender chest, her skyward breasts, her taut back and straining thighs, and the boiling emptiness of her engorged cunt. Now Olive’s engorged cunt, her second one, since she can feel it as totally as her original. Olive flexes and twists, she seems to control every part of her melded conjoined body. Where was Milly? Was she still conscious? Was she just along for the ride? Did she even exist? Olive stretches her legs, original and new, and takes a few experimental steps, before awkwardly rounding on Anna. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Sexy right?” Anna grins. “Milly came up with it!”

Jojo growls, an angry guard dog on duty.

“It’s okay Jo,” Olive takes a deep breath, “No oatmeal.”

Anna smiles, her paintbrush still sticky with magical latex. “I think it needs one more little thing…” and before Olive can complain she paints a dollop of paint over each of Olive’s eyes, sealing them closed and blindfolding her. “That’s better!”

Olive stumbles and can’t see at all and hears Jojo barking angrily! “Oh calm down,” Anna chides, “It’s only for tonight! Have fun and I’ll collect Milly when the party is over. Now be a good guide dog and look after your master!”

***

“Jojo, I hate to admit it, but this is pretty sexy,” Olive says, hoping she’s facing in the right direction. Between the blindness and the armlessness she feels so deliciously helpless, and with the way Mill’s body projects out of her like a pornographic yoga pose, all bared pussy and wide open thighs, she feels exposed and slutty. Exhibitionistic. She blushes, she can’t see if anyone is watching, but feels certain she’s being stared at, ogled, admired. Olive tiptoes forward, her body feeling so big and awkward and clumsy; she keeps bumping into things, into people, and her four calves and Milly’s back are starting to ache, a frisson of sexy masochism. Olivia winces and shivers, both her cunts are so engorged they nearly physically hurt. “I think you should guide me somewhere private.”

Jojo barks her agreement and starts planning how she might herd her master-slash-wife to a guest bedroom. This party has been weirder than either of them were expecting, but Olive looks fucking hot and Jojo can almost taste how horny she is. Jojo’s rubber canine cock is still so hard, so aching throbbing burning hard, and she can’t wait to plunge herself into Olive, to fuck her borrowed rear pussy and burry her face in Milly’s tits, humping Olive like a hound, paws scrabbling on her back, her own six tits crushed between their bodies, until she comes, howling like a wolf. Then, while Master Olive was too breathless to stop her, Jojo will shove her muzzle between Olive’s front legs, breathing in her scent and furiously lapping away at her original clit until she comes again and again and again until after she begs her to stop, unable to enforce her will. Jojo wags her tail and pants, blood pounding in her cock, fuck this was so much better than a night at home!

Jojo growls and barks and nudges Olive towards the bedroom like a blind sheep.

***

“Leaving Ssso Sssoon?” Lydia asks.

“Yes,” Olive says with a contented sigh. Her cunts ache wonderfully from Jojo, but her strange new body is exhausted and sore from it’s strange posture and she is completely over not being able to see. She wants to lay down and have a night cap and cuddle with her wife before falling into a deep sleep. Besides, she’s worried about Milly and whatever has happened to her friend turned extra body parts. Olive will feel better once she knows she’s okay. “I think it’s time to quit while we’re ahead.”

Jojo barks her agreement and wags her tail. She always enjoys her petplay time and loved every moment of fucking Olive raw, but she wants to debrief with her wife after their unexpectedly weird night and then have a long hot shower. 

“I gueSss you’ll need me to reSsstore you?” Lydia holds up a can of anti-magic turpentine and a slender paintbrush. Jojo barks and hops on her paws. “You firSsst?” 

Jojo wags her tail and Lydia quickly douses all the latex additions to her body with chemical restorative. Jojo snorts and waits for the turpentine to break down the magical latex and free her from her doggy form. She watches Lydia carefully paint Olive’s latex coated eyes and shoulders with turpentine before reaching down to paint over the latex seam joining Milly’s body to Olive’s backside. The latex on Olive’s shoulders cracks and splits, flakes away to reveal totally smooth pale freckled skin. Armless skin! And Olive’s face is still eyeless! Just seamless skin below her eyebrows! Jojo howls! Something is wrong! Jojo whimpers and sees the latex split off her snout to reveal a honey blonde furred canine muzzle! She lifts a foreleg to reveal a real furry paw! The turpentine isn’t restoring them! It’s making the magical latex reality! Jojo is becoming an actual four-legged doggirl now! With six flesh and blood tits! A canine cock! Jojo barks louder and more urgently! She watches in horror as the latex between Olive and Milly disintegrates to reveal a perfect seamless connection, as if Olive was born with four legs and a second rear body inverted and splayed for sex. As if Milly had never been a separate person! Had never existed! Jojo yelps and whines!

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Olive asks. She still can’t see or use her arms, and she’s still balanced on four latex ballerina feet. The anti-magic turpentine usually works faster. Why hasn’t she turned back to normal? “Why can’t I see?”

“Oh fuck!” Lydia hisses. “The turpentine iSssn’t working! Sssomething’Sss wrong! Fucking hell! Help!”

“What!” Olive doesn’t understand and Jojo is barking and people at the party are starting to panic and the front door is thrown open and Olive can’t see and she stumbles, bumps someone, bumps a wall, tumbles through the doorway…

Jojo yelps and chases after her mistress>>>