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Professional Witchcraft, Part 5 (Multi TG Preg)
🕑 Added 2025-06-06 00:31:27 +0000 UTCBy FoxFaceStories
A Commission for Planologer
Max is an ordinary young man struggling in college, while his parents Emma and Francis are dealing with an unexpected pregnancy. But everything changes when Aunt Lily drops by for a visit to his family. Aunt Lily is a witch, and thinks she can solve Emma and Francis’ marital problems, just like her apprentice thinks she can help Max and his friend Corey with their gender studies course. Soon Francis will find himself a woman, and Corey will get to experience the other gender too!
Part 5: Corey’s Fantasy
Corey was practically giddy by the time he returned to his apartment. In fact, he actually was. He - oh, he thought, screw it, I’m a she now! - felt bad about leaving Max behind to be milked, but the simple fact was that Corey had to leave. She was a woman now! An actual woman, with boobs and a pussy and curves and cute blonde hair and a cute feminine voice and soft skin and - and - and everything! She’d never even fully realised until this point how much she had truly wanted to experience being a woman, even for a short while. Oh, she’d fantasised about it, as surely as she’d fantasised about pregnant women. But these secret kinks and fantasies were things she’d never imagined would come true; hell, even the idea of hiring an underground wish to make them come true for a few hours was something she’d never truly entertained.
But now she was a woman, and a damn cute one at that! She needed time to explore herself; as Lily had said, there was a good chance her body would revert in twenty four hours, and she didn’t want to spend all that time with her mopey friend who could never understand what a sheer gift this was. Plus, there was the other fact that Max had been blessed with nice, big boobs - milky ones at that! - while Corey unfortunately missed out on such a boon. It would have made her positively go gaga from sheer fetishistic delight if she’d been able to experience that.
“God,” she said, as she inserted her key into her apartment door. “I could imagine I was pregnant, or had recently given birth. Fuck, that’s so hot.”
She barged into her place, which was in a bit of a state of disarray as usual, with clothes on the floor and a few videogames scattered about, along with various comics she hadn’t yet organised. She stepped past these, practically bouncing towards the bathroom to get a much more in-depth look at herself.
“Let’s meet the female me!” she declared in her bubbly voice, standing before the mirror.
What followed was silence as she stripped herself bare of clothing and took herself in. The first thing that hit the new woman, frustratingly, was disappointment.
“I’m not as hot as she is,” she said, pouting a little.
The ‘she’ in question was Max, who was a full blown bombshell, killer curves and all. Even those lactating breasts had still been perfectly shaped and rounded. By contrast, Corey was . . . cute. Just cute. Quite pretty, really. The kind of girl the male her would have looked at admiringly as she walked down the street, but not exactly the kind of model good looks she had been hoping for. There was an attractive girl-next-door vibe to her though, she had to admit. And her eyes were indeed very blue. Very blue, actually. Blue like the waters of a tropical beach, and so damn big! Her nose was button cute too, and while she didn’t have Max’s full lips, she did have an adorable little pout.
“Pretty petite though,” she said, cupping her small breasts.
They weren’t A-cups, at least. Corey had a good sense of these things. She couldn’t really claim much success in the girlfriend department due to her own ridiculously high standards, but her various fetishes and love of erotica meant she had a solid notion of what cup sizes were. Hers were modest B’s. Not particularly sizeable, but not flat-chested either. She could be thankful for that, at least. Hers still had a natural bounce to them, and she tested this several times by hopping a little on her heel. It left her giggling.
“And I’ve got a cute voice!” she declared. It didn’t sound like a bimbo voice or anything, thankfully. Corey had his fantasies, but dumb bimbos weren’t really it. He liked women who were saucy and knew it, or girls who were absolutely gosh darn adorable. Her new voice, with its high, airy, almost bubbly quality, had a giddiness to it that suited her present attitude.
“And besides,” she continued, roaming her hands southward. “There’s still plenty to enjoy here. Mhmm . . .”
Already, there was a developing tingle. A moistness. It was weird. It was strange. It was foreign, alien, and unfamiliar.
And it was wonderful. It made her nipples stiffen, and soon she was beginning to caress herself, shifting her long blonde hair back and deliberately moaning in an exaggerated fashion. She had to take advantage of this.
She moved quickly, savouring the way her hips shifted. Those, at least, were pretty comparable to Max’s.
“Birthing hips,” she mumbled to herself, biting her lip at the thought. She sat down in her chair and booted her computer up. The curtains were drawn, as usual, and she closed the door just in case. This was an old ritual for someone like her. She quickly put the password in for her hidden porn folder and opened it up. She briefly considered looking up regular hot women, but something about that just was . . . appealing to her. She couldn’t say why.
“Preggos it is,” she said, grinning profusely.
She clicked on her ultra hidden folder, entered the second password, and looked over her stash of images and photos. Only a few of them were naked: Corey’s love of pregnancy went beyond simply the obviously pornographic into the erotic. She had hundreds of images of women from various social media sites, all posing with their pregnant bellies, wearing hot maternity dresses or sexy lingerie, or adorned in revealing bikinis. Others were in bathes, their bellies erupting from the water like a great island from the sea. Others still were videos of nine month pregnant women trying on pre-baby clothes and failing to fit - she especially loved those. None of them were people he knew, or anyone that wasn’t already sharing their sexy content publicly - she was a freak, sure, but not a pervert. Well, she was perverted, sure, but she tried to be perverted in a moral fashion.
“Oh yeah, this is fucking sexy,” she whispered, slowly circling a finger over her left nipple as she set up a slideshow of images on one monitor and several videos on another. “Thank you Valentina, for making me a girl who’s still into girls!”
But, even as she began lowering her right hand down to rub her increasingly wet entrance, Corey began to realise that this wasn’t exactly true. She wasn’t into pregnant women anymore, at least in the way that she usually was. Normally, she fantasised about having a pregnant girlfriend, a beautiful woman with a gorgeous bump and round, milky tits to press against her form. The idea of fucking a woman like that, of rubbing her bump as she thrust into her, was normally so damn hot.
Except now, Corey was imagining being that woman.
The images filled her head: her on her back with her belly all swollen with child, her baby’s father fucking her as she spread her legs to receive him. He’d have to be standing, of course, because she’d be too damn big for missionary position. She’d hold her bouncy tits because they’d be flopping all about, at least twice their current size thanks to her being at full-term.
“Mhmm, yeah. Grow in m-me. So fucking f-full of life. So big. I’d waddle about. Ahhh. Mhmmm, I’d be pregnant, just like Max’s Dad. Even m-more pregnant. Ohhhh!”
She began rubbing her entrance, stirring feelings she’d never imagined having. The pleasure was astonishing, and even more when she slipped her fingers inside of her. The area there was so sensitive, and only getting more so as her system became further aroused. With each tweak and touch of her pink nipples, the bliss increased there as well, and it seemed like all her erogenous zones combined to form a never-ending loop of gathering ecstasy. The new woman began to buck her hips a little on her seat, squirming and resting back as she imagined herself being like the women in her photos and videos. Just the idea of it was awakening something in Corey that she never expected.
The fantasy continued as she exercised her ministrations upon herself. She was close, so damn close. Her toes curled as she rubbed her clitoris, finding her G-spot and eliciting whimpers of delight. She bit her lip, shuddering and shaking.
“G-get me p-pregnant! MMHMHH!!!”
The orgasm hit her, and it was beyond anything she could have imagined. She cried out, gasping in her high, airy voice, sounding almost like she was from one of the pieces of pornography she had watched. Her wail was high-pitched and overwhelmed.
“Ahhh! Ahhhh! Aiiieee!!!”
It was a shuddering climax, and to her sheer delight there was a second one following on the heels from the first. Two orgasms . . . already double the pleasure of a man, and with so much more . . . potential.
She spent a number of minutes gathering herself. She cooed and murmured, feeling her breasts and body, and imagining the fertile changes that could occur to it. It was insanity, but a new woman could dream, couldn’t she?
Corey was finally brought out of her private reverie by the loud sound of her phone ringing. Hesitating, she answered it; it was Max, and she couldn’t abandon him a second time.
“Cori speaking,” she answered, and she realised in that moment that, at least to her own private self, she imagined ‘Corey’ as ‘Cori’ now, a much more appropriately feminine spelling.
“Dude, it’s me!” Max said, Cori’s friend’s voice still female. “You’ve got to get back here! Lily tried something to turn me back, but once again it only lasted a short while. She thought that distance would help, but it didn’t! She thinks the link is even stronger than she or Valentina thought! It’s got a mix of both of their magic or something, and we’re all tied up in it.”
Cori frowned, trying to parse this. “Dude, what do you mean by this?”
There was a slight pause, almost an audible sob from the other end of the line.
“Dude, it means we might be stuck like this for weeks. Maybe even months!”
“Oh, okay. I . . . I best get over there.”
“Please do! This is all kinds of wrong and my boobs are seriously already making milk again!”
Cori said goodbye and hung up the phone. For a moment, the new woman sat there, looking at the images of pregnant beauties on the computer, then down at her own petite form.
“Stuck like this for months, huh?” she said to herself.
She cupped her breasts together, forming a thin line of cleavage. The former male grinned.
“Good.”
To Be Continued . . .
Comments
Megan McCue
Poor, poor Cori. Weeks, even months!
