Wishing Roles, Part 10 (Bimbofication & MILFication) (Patreon)

By FoxFaceStories

A Combined Story Tier Prompt for TG Sorcerer & Rilby

Mike and Hannah share a loving relationship, or at least so Mike thinks. When the couple are out with their single friend Amanda, each of the three make a wish. Mike wishes for a perfect partner, Hannah wishes she could make Mike happy, given that she plans to leave him. And Amanda wishes she could be in a relationship too. All three are about to be in for a shock as relationships are rearranged and the bodies of the two women changed . . .

First Part

Previous Part

Part 10: Wishes Granted

Mandy woke her to find her husband’s large member sandwiched between her cheeks, hard as rock. The former older academic luxuriated in the sensation, having long ago given up fighting the arousal it gave her. Instead, she began to slide herself against it, shifting in such a way to gently wake her lover while teasing his dick at the same time. He was already spooning against her as he always did, one hand clasped over one of her magnificent breasts. They were even bigger now, thanks to some surgical work. That had been something she tried to fight, but evidently Mike had a thing for a woman with a boob job even when she didn’t need one, and so here she was, with tits that were thankfully still quite bouncy and perky, but were now a whole cup size bigger.

And so very, very sensitive.

The first sign that Mike was starting to wake came when he began to subconsciously run his fingers over her nipple. The second was when he began to grunt. By this point, she was shifting herself against him more obviously, and starting to moan a little under her breath too. When she’d been Amanda, sex - on the rare occasions it happened - had always been a long affair of foreplay to get her to the right point. Now, it was like she became wet at the drop of a hat. 

“Mhmm,” she moaned, biting her lip. She gripped her husband’s hand, making it grope her breast even more firmly. This was clearly the final straw, because she felt her husband breathe against her neck in a far more conscious way.

“What a lovely wake up,” he said into her ear. “You always want it, don’t you, Mandy?”

She trembled at his touch, which became more exploratory. “Yes. Ohhhh, you know I always do. It’s a wish come true for you.”

“I’ll make you enjoy it too. You want it like this?”

“Mm-hmm. Play with my big fake tits, too. Be as rough as you like.”
 Mike was such a nice guy, she knew that, and he did too. He’d never stopped feeling guilty about what all their wishes had accidentally made Mandy and, of course, Hannah, and often apologised in those moments of clear-headedness. Something about that made it easier for Mandy, at least, though part of her sometimes wished he was more willing to take advantage of it. Be greedy and cruel. That way, she’d have someone to vent to and be angry at in a cathartic way. As it was, he was just too nice to be angry about their forced roles, and too horny and compelled to fight it. 

So at least he did have a rougher side, one that could let her indulge in a little bitterness. Mike didn’t just fantasise about having a bimbo wife, he also fantasised about really fucking her, hard. Of talking dirty and letting her know what she was. It was degrading for them both - Hannah had confirmed he’d never been like that when they’d been a couple, so clearly it was a hidden fantasy - but even though it was humiliating, it let Mandy retain enough annoyance to keep hold of who she used to be.

“You’re gonna like this, you dirty slut,” Mike started, pressing his cock into her entrance. She lifted one leg to aid him, gasping as his huge member slid into her wet tunnel.

“I, like, totally am! I’m your dirty slut!”

“My fake, horny, submissive, sexy wife. You want me bad, don’t you? Admit it?”

“I totes do! I - ohhhhh - need this! I f-fucking need you to cum inside me! I need my big, handsome man to be my master!”

He began fucking her, thrusting in and out even as he gripped her breasts, groping and grasping and squeezing them just enough to hurt, but not so much that it overrode the sheer levels of ecstasy he was also providing her.

“You’re like this forever now,” Mike grunted, thrusting faster and faster. She bucked herself against him, the pair on their side in the same spooning position. “Say it.”

“I’m l-like this f-forever now! I’m your horny, slutty girl!”

“My bimbo!”

“Your bimbo! I, like, need you as my big man to make all the decisions!”

“And in exchange, I f-fuck you like this.”
 “Yes! Yes! YESSS!!!”

It didn’t take long for either of them to cum. At least her orgasms were seriously amazing, better than they ever had been as Amanda. They rocked her core, again and again and fucking again, until she’d had not three or four but five consecutive climaxes. The sensation of her husband’s hot cum flowing into her passage was seriously erotic, making her almost grateful that she was now stuck as a busty bimbo trophy wife. It was a miracle she hadn’t gotten knocked up yet, though that loomed ever on the horizon. Mike wanted a sizeable family, and she had no doubt that her body would fill those fertile desires one day. For now, she managed to separate from him in the post-coital peace that followed, her big enhanced tits wobbling a little as she rested on her back, the pair of them now looking at the ceiling of their holiday hotel.

“Sorry,” Mike said, blushing. Immediately, the guilt seized upon him. “I don’t mean to say those things, you know. It’s just a dumb fantasy of mine. I don’t actually believe them.”

“You, like, might as well,” Mandy murmured. “I am your slut. Your bimbo wife. Stupid wishes. Ugh, at least I seriously came soooooo hard just now.”

“Yeah, that was intense.”

They both chuckled.

“But I am sorry.”

“Stop apologising, honey. You can’t fight it anymore than I can, like, stop wearing outfits that seriously show off my huge tits. We’re stuck like this, and it’s been, you know, a year now or whatever.”

“I just don’t like calling you a bitch or a slut or a -”

“It turns me on when it happens, and, like, makes me centred on who I was. I don’t want to, you know, lose that or something. Just stop apologising and come join me in the shower or something. I need to blow off some steam.”

The compulsions rose, and she gave her husband a sultry look.

“And then I can blow you.”

Mike couldn’t help but grin. The guilty was still there, but his body had its own demands. “I wouldn’t complain about that at all. Besides, it’ll keep it in my pants for the wedding ceremony.”

“Please, like we aren’t gonna, like, totally fuck in a cupboard or something during the reception! You haven’t even seen my dress!”

***

Hannah stood before her husband-to-be adorned in a pearl white dress that looked only a little tacky. It hugged her dimensions and had perhaps a bit too much cleavage, and its train was utterly excessive. It was everything the formerly glamorous woman would never wear to the wedding of her dreams: it showed off too much of her body, and was practically bait to any silver-haired man interested in a voluptuous woman in her early middle-age. Which, of course, was exactly why she was wearing it: it was the kind of outfit that she simply couldn’t resist in her new life.

“You look utterly entrancing,” Alan said, winking at her while the celebrant began the service.

“Thank you,” she said. “You look dashing as the day I met you.”

“One has to keep up.”

His words made her blush as they often did. Something lit up within her; not love, but certainly a form of pride. She could learn to love Alan, of course, in time. She imagined she even would. But did she really have to be married to him after less than a year in her new wishing role? Evidently this was the case. At least her daughter was here to support her, wearing a gorgeous blue dress that fit her slim yet busty figure, a cleavage window showing off a level of cleavage rivalled only by Hannah herself. It made the older woman briefly jealous of her ‘daughter,’ not just her youth but her figure and style as well. But then the stupid wish’s compulsions were there to make her feel immensely proud of her daughter, who was her maid of honour, naturally.

“You’re doing great, mom,” she whispered. “You can totes do this.”

Hannah wasn’t quite sure she could. She’d been on the very cusp of ending her relationship with Mike when this disaster had first begun, largely because she knew he was thinking of marrying her. Now, here she was, one year later and twenty years older, stuck marrying another man she found very attractive, loved having sex with, and genuinely enjoyed the company of, but not exactly in love with.

It had been a journey getting here. Unlike her Mandy and Mike who had ended up husband and wife and joined at the hip following the magical reality rewrite, Hannah had simply felt the instinctive urge to follow her role and pair up with sexy older men who could take care of her. At first that had been Alan, but there had been others. Their relationship had taken a break, and she had enjoyed the company of numerous other men who fit her new criteria, and all of whom enjoyed her MILF body. She’d even slept with some younger men too who were into that, and had to listen to the frankly degrading speeches they gave about how they loved a “total cougar” or a “sexy, thick-bodied MILF” and so forth, all the things she was never meant to be.

But in the end, the first ‘love’ won out. The transformed woman had a distinct feeling that the wish’s effects had decided, in some sentient way, to guide her back to Alan. They’d had the most chemistry, the best sex, and he was in the best financial position to support her. Besides, he also got along with Mandy and Mike, and that was perhaps most important of all; she had never managed to shed just how damn maternal she felt towards her former boyfriend and friend. Now she doted on her daughter, always coming by to give them cooked food and gifts and invited her daughter to spa days, during which they had the most seriously strange conversations that shifted from complaining about their current lives to comparing sex to talking about whatever shallow thing their new lives revolved around. It was, in a way, highly cathartic. It was these conversations that brought up Alan again, and Mandy had really pushed the issue.

“You should totes get back with him, Mom! He’s perfect for you, and seriously hot for an older guy! Besides, he loves golf like Mike does! He’s the best fit, seriously!”

And so it had happened. She’d called up Alan again, and he’d leapt at the opportunity to be with her. What had followed was a whirlwind of dates and even travels together, all culminating in a proposal just six months into their dating, one she had accepted eagerly despite her inner reluctance. 

Even that had felt like a lifetime ago, given that they were now near the shores of warm and tropical Fiji, a sunny destination wedding by the beach. The sun smiled warmly upon her as Alan placed the ring upon her finger. Her heart skipped a beat, and as usual, there was that inner turmoil, that struggle between her true self and the woman she’d become. One day, she knew, they would finally blend, and then she could find peace and true acceptance in her life. Perhaps, judging by Alan’s handsome smile, that day would be sooner than later. As it was, the compulsion still had to act for her when the question came.

“And do you, Hannah, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

l. Hannah saw Mike in the crowd, a somewhat nostalgic expression on his features, then turned to see her own daughter beside her. She smiled sweetly, whispering, “Go on!”, but the mother could see the hidden sympathy in her daughter’s eyes. She turned back to Alan, her heart swelling with a love that was artificial but felt so damn real. Less than a few seconds had passed.

“I do,” she said.

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife. Alan, you may now kiss the bride.”

They kissed. It was not a brief kiss either.

***

Mandy had not been wrong; she and Mike indeed found a hidden closet to fuck in during the reception. Her silly body was just too horny, and she knew her husband’s dick would always rise to the occasion. He banged her against the wall of the small space, her legs wrapped around him, her bust right up in his face. They groaned in ecstasy once more, holding one another for some time before the hasty cleanup began.

“We are so fucking dirty,” Mandy said. “Having sex at my own Mom’s reception.”

“Sorry about saying those-”

“Seriously, stop it. It gets me going and it centres me, Mike. Let’s just get back out on the dance floor. I know you soooo want to see these big titties of mine bounce, and my legs move.”

Mike scratched the back of his head. “You know what? Yeah, I really do. Look, let’s just enjoy the night, right? Make your Mom as happy as possible.”

“And us too, lover. If I can’t go back to being who I was, then I at least want, like, every other girl on that dance floor to be totally jealous of how fucking hot we both are. Oh, and to celebrate Mom’s marriage and stuff.”

They returned to the floor just in time to find that the dancing really was starting up. The speeches were already done, the cake had been cut, and the warm tropical weather was cooling perfectly as night settled in. Heads turned, female and male, as Mike and Mandy entered the stage again. Hannah was already there in her wedding dress, the train now gone, dancing with her husband, her moves just a little scandalous. She’d had a bit to drink, and there were few doubts she and her new husband would be returning to the expansive and expensive wedding suite soon to really seal the marriage. Still, there was time for a brief reunion.

“Oh my God, Mandy! Come join us! Mike, my perfect son-in-law! I’m married!”

The pair laughed at the older woman’s tipsy expression. 

“Alan, get me one last drink, will you? I want to talk to my wonderful kids!”

The man chuckled, winked at Mandy, clearly amused at his own wife’s tipsiness, then traipsed to the bar.

“How are you holding up?” Mike asked.

Hannah sighed in an exasperated and over the top manner. “I’m getting super drunk, that’s how! And I’m totally going to let Alan have his way with me. No offence, Mike, but he’s a much better fit at least.”

Mike coughed awkwardly, as did Mandy. “Uh, great, Hannah. I hope that he makes you happy.”

“He does! He will! Maybe! I don’t know! It’s not like I can fight it, right? At least tell me my darling daughter is making you happy, and he’s making you happy too, Mandy.”

The pair exchanged a glance. 

“He does,” Mandy said.

“She will,” Mike said.

“Maybe.”

“I don’t know.”

And then, giggling by this point as they spoke the last part together: “I don’t know, it’s not like we can fight it, right?”

Great truth had never been spoken, and it left the three roaring with laughter at the absurdity of these new lives and endless compulsions. Alan returned with a new glass for Hannah, but she just waved her hand.

“I’ve changed my mind. Put it on a table, Alan. Let’s dance! All of us, let’s dance and just go with it tonight!”

Alan took it in stride, holding his wife and instantly pivoting her back to the dance floor. With a shrug, Mandy and Mike joined them, a little tipsy and excited themselves. The two attractive couples, separated by a whole generation, danced away to the upbeat music, forming the centre of a congregation of guests and family. The three of them all knew that tomorrow they would deal with hangovers and cleanups, compulsions and a lack of freedom over their changed lives. But for now, at least, all of that was a problem for the future. For now, they danced together, holding one another and laughing, embracing their roles and partnerships for this one night. 

Anything else was a problem for tomorrow.

The End