City Hall: Lust’s Price VIII

Greg Myer browsed through a magazine in the waiting room of the mayor’s office. The outmoded media publication absolutely fascinated him from top to bottom. The waxy feel of each page as he turned it, the time locked articles in a world of constantly flowing information, and the photoshopped images of celebrities — he found it charming and inspirational. Things could be more simple if change stopped. Men and women could be beautiful, shaped to an ideal perfection without flaw or blemish. And everything could feel so delightfully sinful.

His eyes moved to the clock. Greg was not impatient, but he was curious if he was being kept waiting. From the secretary’s initial reaction, he was not a welcome sight. Mayor Bill Hawthorne had been reluctant to take the meeting at all, but Greg and his associates had been quite insistent. The secretary heard his name before she looked at him which explained her initial blanched reaction. She had been expecting the typical type of greasy businessman who would rapidly buy up property and convert it to whatever industry could turn the quickest profit regardless of the long term effects. Greg knew the secretary, Carla if her name plate was to be believed, had pictured a short man in an ill fitted, cheap suit with a bald patch, greasy face, and sweaty palms. His actual appearance had flustered her immediately. Like so many women, her eyes were drawn to his biceps. Greg had considered wearing a suit, but didn’t want to seem overly formal and instead opted for a short sleeve polo and a nice pair of slacks. The shirt had the obvious benefit of showing off his barrel chest and even showing a few rogue chest hairs sticking out from the neckline.

Greg’s new power let him keep tabs on everything about Carla. He could sense her heartbeat rising. In a way, he could even hear her thoughts. The closer she came to sin, the more tangible her desires appeared to him. True mastery of his power remained out of reach, though. At first, he thought of it as mind reading, but he quickly learned that was not the case. The mind, he realized, was like a busy highway with thousands of conflicting thoughts, some conscious some not. Even if he could read a human’s mind, it would be the equivalent of incoherent screaming, a sound all too kin to what he’d heard on his one trip to Hell. At best, he might glean a snapshot of a thought process, but they change too quickly to be of much use.

Instead, he saw things about his victims in flashes, like thoughts forced into his own mind. As he browsed the magazine, Carla clicked away at her computer, filling out a spreadsheet and focusing most of her attention on keeping track of numbers. But her subconscious was busy with other things. A small thought in the back of her mind lingered on Greg’s presence. Greg concentrated, and the thought opened itself to him. Carla imagined bending over her desk while the burly stranger played with her pussy. She concentrated on two feelings, first Greg’s fingers buried in her juicy snatch, and two, the feeling of Greg’s thick cock pushing against her inner thigh. The image shifted slightly, like flicker in an old film, but Greg saw it as a door. Behind it waited other thoughts, things linked to her current fantasy. He saw an image of a young man, also Latino, her boyfriend. He saw other lovers and other fantasies.

With each image came a feeling that provided context. Greg thought if he were still human and not a sex demon, the feelings might overwhelm him, but as disconnected as he was from humanity, the feelings were yet another foreign object for analysis. One scene of sex with a young man had shame associated with it. If he chose, Greg could have prodded the thought and understood why, but he already knew enough about Carla to win her over. Another image showed sadness. It was not of sex, but of the afterglow, cradled in the arms of a man she had not seen in years. Beside the sadness was a profound feeling of love that Greg wrinkled his nose at. Carla loved the man greatly. Greg pushed the memory away as he browsed further into her feelings.

While he perused her deepest thoughts, his mere presence continued to have a profound effect on her. Carla was an attractive woman, the perfect eye candy for a mayor’s office. Before his ascension to demonic servitude, Greg would have been embarrassed to be looked at by her. She was probably a little under thirty with a slim figure and a nice pair of breasts. A caramel colored Latina complexion gave her a smooth glow, and silky black hair framing her face nicely. While Greg could only properly be satisfied by one of his completely changed harlots, he still appreciated the uncorrupted beauty of an unsuspecting young woman. He knew that she was getting wet from her errant thoughts. Her breathing lost its normal rhythm, and the arousal caused her breasts to imperceptibly swell. Greg looked up from the magazine and smiled at her. She brushed her hair aside and smiled back. Greg laughed to himself. Sometimes he liked a challenge, but other times it was fun to find an easy one.

The door of the office opened. “Mr. Myers, won’t you come in?”

“Carla, would you to have lunch with me?” Greg asked.

The woman looked up unexpectedly, “Oh, Mr. Myers, I didn’t think that —”

“Please, call me Greg, and don’t worry I already asked the mayor if he could spare you for a bit. There’s a shop across the street, I think. My treat.”

Carla looked nervously to the mayor’s office door. “Alright, but it’ll have to be quick, I have a lot of work to do.”

“Of course,” Greg said.

They made their way down the hall and into the elevator. The old lift creaked as they stepped inside. Greg smiled as Carla lingered near his arm just to catch a whiff of his scent. She was so close already. All it would take was a little push. He hit button for the ground floor, and the elevator jerked into motion. Greg concentrated as hard as he could. A trick his master considered as easy as batting away a fly would take all of Greg’s strength. Carla wouldn’t notice until she was capable of understanding it. Greg fell back on his master’s power to bend the space and time around himself. The world outside of the elevator vanished and Greg sighed in satisfaction as his work came to fruition. With a flick of his hand, the elevator jerked to a stop. At least, that’s what Carla thought happened.

“Oh no, not again,” she said. “This old thing gets stuck all the time, but I’ve never been the one in it.”

“That’s ok,” Greg said cheerfully. “I’m sure they’ll start it up again in no time. If we’d brought a picnic, we’d just have lunch here.”

Carla felt her body flush as a realization swept over her. She was trapped alone in the elevator with a man she’d been fantasizing about for nearly an hour. His scent grew stronger and more intoxicating. No one could see or hear them. and it might be hours before they were freed. “Let me call the maintenance room.” She grabbed the phone in the door, but it clicked dead. She tried her cell phone, but it too had no signal.

“I guess we’ll have to find other ways of passing the time,” Greg suggested. “Carla, maybe we could skip a few steps.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said with a nervous smile.

“Are you going to try and convince me that you haven’t been swimming in that thong since the moment you saw me.”

“Mr. Myers, please —”

“Greg.”

“Alright then, Greg. I don’t think that’s an appropriate thing to say.”

“Why not take what you want? It’s obvious to me, but if you’d like to pass over the opportunity, I understand. But since you’re wondering, it’s long and thick and loves Latin girls.”

Carla resolutely turned away to stare at the elevator doors. Her mouth watered, and she bit her lip. She tried to focus on her boyfriend, but they’d been in a rough patch for a while. She thought he was cheating on her. She’d even meant to break up with him two weeks ago, but she’d been afraid of being alone. It had been so long since she’d had any real fun. Greg could push her up against the wall of the elevator. He’d slide right in she was already so wet. What’s wrong with me? I’m not normally like this. But god do I want it. She turned back to Greg. “Maybe I was thinking about that. What would you do?”

“Carla, what if I could give you everlasting beauty? What if I could change your life to one of pure bliss and ecstasy? All in exchange for giving yourself to me. For giving yourself to this.” The glamor illusion started to fade. Greg’s clothes disappeared as his skin rippled with new muscle and a red tone. His fangs came in quickly as the horns ripped through the top of his head. He felt none of the changes, but liked to show off. Carla gasped and backed away, but her eyes remained fixed on growing, thick cock between Greg’s thighs.

“El Diablo,” she whispered and crossed herself without conviction. Her mind was drenched in wanton lust.

“Not him, but a loyal foot soldier,” Greg growled as he stretched his full form. He’d overestimated the size of the elevator and found his head brushing against the roof. “Join me and you can have a body like this. Never aging, always beautiful. And perfect for this cock to slide in every moment you want it.” His clawed hand reached out to stroke her cheek. She leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm feeling against her skin. “Give in and become my goddess.” Greg felt the yes before she could say it. The thrill of yet another victory rushed through his body as her soul tore from within her and vanished into the void.

Carla dropped to her knees. Her mouth opened as wide as she could and she shoved the head of Greg’s monstrous cock into her mouth. Immediately, she tasted the sweet black cum as it started to coat her tongue. Her small hands wrapped around his shaft and started to jerk up and down as she struggled to fit more of the demonic rod into her throat. The stream of corrupting ichor oozed from the tip of Greg cock as he snarled. His tail slithered around her side and down her pants to prod at her puckered ass. She moaned around his length as the corruption took hold. Her brown skin darkened into a slightly deeper shade of red than Greg’s other whores.

Feeling the new sensations taking hold of her body, she pulled off his cock with a wet slurp. A large glob of the black cum spit from the tip and splattered on her face. She instinctively tried to lick it away and was pleased to find a longer, forked tongue easily capable of cleaning the delicious fluid from her face. She quickly started to tear away her clothes as her tits swelled into obscene balloons and her as bulged outward into a bubble butt so bouncy that a normal man might cum from a few seconds of watching it jiggle. Her hand dove between her thighs to stroke her pussy. She’d always kept it groomed, but never clean shaved. The newly hairless mound was smooth to the touch. She squirmed as she pushed her fingers into her sopping wet pussy.

Greg pulled her up by the shoulders and spun her around. She had an old tattoo on her back that once said the name of her lost love, but even that had become twisted. The ink swirled across her skin as though it had a mind of its own. Greg watched it in amusement as the letters formed the phrase, “Please fuck me, daddy” and even provided an arrow pointing to her ass. Greg was pleased that his harlots could still surprise him with their tricks. He spread her legs and pushed her hand away from her pussy by shoving his cock against it. Her tail sprouted from the crest of her luscious ass cheeks as he started to push inside of her. “Ay dios mio,” she whined as her demonic slit opened wide to accept her master’s glorious cock.

“Is that what you want to be,” Greg taunted as he pulled her against him by the root of her tail. “A Latina slut with a fat ass and big tits. You want to spend your day painting fingernails and smacking gum until you can play with yourself and swap the gum for cock.”

“Oh yeah, papi. I can be whatever you want,” she said through a comically thick accent. She looked over her shoulder to flash her new fangs at him as he began to saw in and out of her juicy pussy. “You just gonna stand there with that fat dick in my pussy or are you gonna fuck me like I deserve.” Greg growled and started moving faster. His hips slapped against her ass causing ripples in the delicious flesh. Greg moved his hand down to push his claw into her virgin ass causing her to moan loader.

Carla squeezed her new fat titties as each inch of Greg’s cock stretch her. An ache built up behind her nipples and squeezing them felt amazing. Soon, black milk dribbled out over her fingers and dropped to the floor. “Uhng…uhng…uhng…that’s it baby, fuck me like your little slut. You’re gonna make me cum, papi. I’m gonna cum all over that big, fat dick of yours.” Her words started to lisp slightly as her lips swelled into bee stung cushions which immediately colored themselves bright pink. “Oh my lips feel so soft, papi, I can’t wait to suck that cock of yours. I bet it will look fucking sexy when your hot black cum is all over these soft cocksucking lips.”

Greg grunted and felt the rush of cum moving up his cock. He pulled out just in time for the first gout to spray up her back. She whimpered, but he pulled her tail up and shoved his spurting cock into her ass. Carla yelped and shuddered in pleasure as orgasm tore through her body. She could feel his cock jerking in her ass, pumping hot cum inside her while her tits continued to leak black milk. Greg slapped her ass hard. “I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic. Because it’s time to put you to work.”

Several hours later, Hawthorne’s office door opened, and Carla walked in. He noticed something different about her when she came back from lunch, but he didn’t know exactly what. “Carla, this coffee you’ve made tastes delicious. Are we using a different type of cream?”

“Yes, sir. It’s specially made.” Carla moved closer to the desk. “Mr. Hawthorne, there’s something I need you to do for me.”

Hawthorne looked up with surprise, “Certainly, Carla, what is it?”

“Actually, it’s that you need to let me do something for you.” She moved around to his side of the desk. His chair backed up, and she saw his cock straining against his pants. Without hesitation, she reached down and grabbed his aching dick. He’d not been aware of it at all, but her touch, even through his pants was divine. “I need you to let me take care of this.”

Hawthorne’s mouth went dry, and his vision blurred. This was everything he’d ever wanted. He knew he had obligations and a wife, but he didn’t care. Carla knelt down and unzipped his pants. With little work, she fished his cock out of his pants and wrapped her divine lips around it. Hawthorne groaned in satisfaction as her hot mouth surrounded his length.

Her head bobbed up and down quickly, and Hawthorne wasn’t a man of stamina. His head rolled back and he closed his eyes. Her mouth felt different. Her tongue wasn’t just moving along his cock in rhythm with her lips, but sliding around his shaft and even out of her mouth to tickle his balls. Her lips felt bigger and softer, like two pillows pushing against him perfectly. His legs tensed, and his hand instinctively went to the back of her head. As he grabbed for her, his hand instead grabbed hold of a curved horn. Before he could react, he came. Hard. His balls emptied into her mouth and she slurped every drop down greedily. His heart pounded in his chest and he had to catch his breath before he opened his eyes.

Looking between his legs, he saw what Carla had become. Instead of revulsion or fear, his cock started to get hard again immediately. “Want to be like me, papi? Want to live to fuck? Want to cum in this fat Latina ass every day?”

“Oh god yes,” he whispered.

Carla moved between him and the desk and bent over. Her tail flipped out of the way and gave Hawthorne a full view of her wet, bald pussy. “Then you better get started.”

He scrambled to his feet, his cock rock hard again. He grabbed handfuls of her ass and pushed forward with all his might. His small cock was swallowed eagerly by the hot canal, and he felt his soul withering into nothing. Looking forward, he saw Carla’s swollen breasts leaking onto Myers’s permits, and he let loose a deep, demonic laugh.