It seemed to never stop growing. First the shaft slid to full length, then it became erect, pointing strait up. Tami felt as though she was made for this cock, her short height means that she was face to face with his massive errection. Her nose was right above his meat, letting her breath in its perfect thick odor. This is what a real man looks like, she though. She looked to her side to see the drugged up sissy staring at them with tears rolling down her eyes. Although still humanoid, she had sheep ears and had sprouted a soft layer of white fur all over her body. Her miniscule manhood was gone and was instead replaced with a tight pink slit, he/she tried to pleasure herself but it was impossible with her new hooved hands. Tami knew the kid was ready. She called the lamb-girl over, who got on her knees to match the stout goblin’s height. Tami applied her special lipstick once more to give the sissy her second dose, the sissy knew she was getting drugged but she would do anything to. The wall clock above my head rebounds obediently in time to our actions and I swear even Kurt Cobain and the Red Hot Chili Peppers are judging me from nearby posters. Not that I’m able to reflect upon how far I’ve fallen, from innocent to insatiable within such a short period. His hands support my weight, clutching my bottom beneath the hiked pleated skirt, panties long since torn from me and flung across the room that we’d burst inside, twirling and kissing, hands roaming impatiently across clothes, seeking skin before crashing against the far wall, the giggling subsiding as tongues set up a furious dance. Dull thumps from the music emanate through the floor, each beat a reminder that we’re on borrowed time. Any of the other partygoers might throw open the bedroom door at any moment and catch us in the spilled light, nowhere to hide. What would they think of me? Would they laugh? Utter an apology and leave? Stay and watch? I shiver. Exposure suddenly feels risky. Dangerous. Yet.
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