The Transformation of Grace
She was the greatest woman in the world to me. Grace was strong, smart, kind...she was perfect, for me. I loved her, of course; we were together. To call our relationship passionate would be an understatement, for we spent every waking moment together. Day after day, we went across the world together, seeing the sights and just enjoying all the beauty of Earth together. She was an adventurous, fearless, and utterly rational woman. We were both young 20-somethings, curious about the world around us. David and Grace—we were the greatest pair ever.
She was wealthy; her family’s money funded our little expeditions across the world. Asia, Africa, the Americas. Europe, Australia; we explored all of them, seeing all the wonders of the world. We always traveled modestly, never really attracting attention. After seeing all the massive, well-known sites in the world, we turned to the smaller sites; caves, cliffs, forests, and even ruins. The simple beautiful things in the world, often isolated from the rest of the world. It is one of these ruins that forever changed both of our lives.
These were isolated ruins in Northern Italy; no one had ever bothered to check them out. So me and Grace would be the first. We went in casual, tight-fitting clothes, no real diving gear. The ruins were a collection of old buildings, with what seemed to be a tunnel underneath the group. We would just spend some quiet time here, thinking about everything, looking around, then we would be on our way.
We left our car some distance from the ruins no one knew where we were. Grace liked that, being able to be alone for a long time. We could spend all day here and no one would notice our absence. We took a moment before we entered the ruins, silently staring at each other. It was a simple, silly thing we did. I took the time to fully appreciate her beauty. Her beautiful blue eyes, staring back at me like two wide pools. Wavy blonde hair, hanging freely. Her smooth, clean face, her forehead wrinkled as she continued to look over me. A well-built, strong but small body, a simple tank-top covering her torso, slender, smooth legs leading down to small, elegant feet clad in sandals. I thought everything about her was beautiful. I took a moment to realize how lucky I was to have her, but she began to speak and I snapped to attention to her words.
“Shall we go in?”
Grace looked at me with a sly smile, presumably mildly amused at how quickly I responded to her voice.
I walked on obediently, giving a dumb smile at her commands. Looking around, the ruins appeared pretty basic. Roman-styled pillars scattered across the area; what was of curiosity was the tunnel. It seemed large, massive in fact. The entrance to it was from a drop-off on the inside of the building; a ladder was conveniently on it; Grace went to test it, to make sure it could still hold our weight; she climbed down without any problem, and I quickly followed. The area was dark, so I activated my flashlight and shot it around. There was a stark contrast from the ruins above.
“These certainly aren’t Roman.” Grace state definitely.
The walls were pitch black in color, covered in murals of various varieties. One that caught my eye was a mural of several men kneeling in front of a woman with wicked wings. Grace seemed to be soaking everything in. The architecture was of an odd make; everything was carved out of some kind of rock, but the rocks appeared to be solid, not bricks, which was certainly an impossibility.
“Not Roman, not Lombard; certainly doesn’t appear to be the work of any still existing Latin culture. So we’re talking before the Romans.”
There was only one path ahead, so we of course walked along it. Murals were all around us, but beyond that it was plain; just the walls, no furniture, no pillars. We came to a point where the path was broken; a gap was between us and the rest of the tunnel. Grace, deciding she could jump it, kicked off her sandals lest they get in the way, and took a running start, leaping over the gap and rolling on her ankles as she landed. She quickly stood up, and motioned to me to come over. I felt afraid, and Grace, knowing what I was feeling, spoke.
“Come on; its just a little jump. It’ll be fun.”
Taking a deep sigh, I ran back to give myself a good distance from the gap, and sprinted and jumped across the gap, landing on my feet, and I quickly stood up. I felt my heart pulse, and I had a good warmth run across my whole body.
“Like your little adrenalin rush?”
Grace gave her sly smile to me again; I simply nodded sheepishly. As I finished my nod, I swore I heard something in the back of my head-like a whisper. I looked around the area, and I wanted to tell Grace about it, but I felt an urge not to, lest I look foolish. Looking at Grace, I saw her glancing the same way I was, so she heard it to. Still, I said nothing as she walked ahead; I noticed her walk was uncomfortable, her bare feet liking hurting on the horridly cold floor.
Glancing across the walls, the murals became increasingly disturbing. From simple images of men kneeling before winged women, it slowly transitioned into horror, to winged women violently torturing the same males, even killing them. Even more to my horror, I felt myself aroused by these images. I looked upon one image, a man kneeling before the winged woman, kissing her feet while she clawed across his back; I took a step back as I saw a vision; me, kissing Grace’s feet, her wearing the same demonic wings, and doing the same to my back. I felt the pain as if it were real, and I… liked it. I was terrified now, and I heard the whisper-whispers now. They buzzed lightly at the back of my skull. I made up my mind: I was going to tell Grace. As I opened my mouth, my mind was assaulted with the images; a winged version of Grace doing terrible things to me. I felt so aroused, and instead of the frightening plea to leave, out came a light moan. Grace paused in her step, giving a light chuckle, before continuing her steps. I followed her in lock-step, the thoughts of fear pushed out of my mind. Whatever was in here, it could twist my mind whatever way it wanted. Not that there was anything really bad in here; it was just my imagination, right?
We came to a fork in the tunnel, and Grace turned right without a thought. I decided to question it.
“Why this way, Grace?”
“Just feels like the best way to go.”
I felt satisfied by this answer, and continued my following of Grace. I wondered if Grace was having the same problem I was, all this fear. I doubted it; Grace wasn’t afraid of anything, right? I just followed her, and we came upon a statue; a demonically winged woman. In front of her were what appeared to be wine glasses, incense, gold.
“This is an altar.” Grace stated matter-of-factly.
I nodded in response. Whoever built this place, they worshiped this winged woman. Looking upon the statue, I felt the whispering in my head get incredibly intense. I could only understand one word. When that word came, it hit me harder than anything ever had before. Kneel.
I did. I obeyed mindlessly. I had no ability to resist. In the corner of my eye I noticed Grace was kneeling as I was. Terror consumed my heart as the whispers shot through my head. I shuddered with both great arousal and absolute terror at the next command.
I didn’t even consciously feel my arms move as they ripped off my clothing. My shirt was ripped in half without even a thought, my feet slipping out of their shoes as I tore off my pants; with ripped off socks and boxers, I was naked in front of the statue. The whispers slowed their pace; a final command was uttered.
I rose to my feet, noticed Grace, naked as well, rising with me. I felt very little now, not like I had active control of my body. I was just observing as my body danced to the Goddess’s tune. Grace continued her walk, and I passively walked behind her. I felt the whispers still, and I felt my terror subside, replaced by arousal and a love of what was happening. I didn’t even feel like this was odd. Just a nice happy couple giving their souls to a long forgotten demon-Goddess. As my fear went away completely, I felt a certain happiness in this, and I felt that I had regained control of my body; I covered myself with my arms as I kept walking.
“Pretty cold in here.” Grace spoke.
“Yeah, it is.”
I felt my thoughts of what had transpired start to fade away…
Why were we naked again?
Grace simply shot an inquisitive look to her sides and spoke.
“Well, I suppose we’ve done weirder shit.”
I laughed; I didn’t at all feel odd to be naked in the middle of an old ruin. And I was still incredibly aroused, my erection throbbing in front of me. Grace seemed aroused to, and neither of us felt odd about it.
“We should run around naked more often. Let‘s make a date of it.” Grace joked.
“Be careful, Grace; you naked is enough to send most into a second puberty.”
“You aren’t too bad yourself; you should shave more, though.”
We had never been sexually intimate before-never been naked in front of each other. And neither of us seemed to care at all.
I followed Grace as she kept walking, her bare feet making a light stamping noise across the ground. We entered into a large dome area, with a large book in the center upon a stand. I heard whispers in my head; they sounded so sultry, so arousing….
Thinking about the voices, so lovely, I looked upon the area in front of us. Chalked in shapes surrounded the tome; I went to the other side of the room, some distance from the center, as I observed the murals again. I heard the pitter-patter of Grace’s feet, and I turned to look at her, as she approached the center. She had no fear or hesitation; she snapped open the book to an exact page, and took up a nearby piece of chalk, making another alien shape around the book. I barely noticed I was on my knees, and felt my mouth chanting some incomprehensible phrase. I felt myself being put in the backseat of my body again as I continued my chant. As Grace finished the shape, the book and stand disappeared. Grace stepped mechanically towards the center, and I saw her struggle against it. Whatever was happening, she did not want it to. I thought about intervening, but those thoughts were pushed out of my head with visions of winged Grace doing increasingly sadistic and arousing things to me. When she put her barefoot on the center, I felt tension fade away as nothing happened. When here second foot brushed again the circle, her naked body was lifted into the air, spread-eagled and levitating just a few feet in the air. She screamed horribly, and suddenly I snapped back to myself.
I forced myself up, and I ran. The voices used all their power to stop me, but I couldn’t let them take her. I pushed against what was holding me back, using every ounce of my willpower to push to Grace. The journey seemed like it took hours as I sprinted towards her, defeating every attempt to subdue me, and as I came near Grace I was exhausted. I came so close, but I was out of willpower to spare. I fell to my knees just two feet from her. I could of saved her…
My body wasn’t my own anymore. I felt my neck twist upwards to Grace as she began to twist and transform. Her formerly normal breast engorged and became large; her bust line increased massively.
She cried out to me.
Her feet and legs became stronger…firmer, as her body overall began to grow.
Wings sprouted from her back, demonic-looking wings; her wavy hair became long and more sultry, more wild. Her arms became muscular, strong, and her hands looked almost like claws-incredibly beautiful claws. She ceased her levitation as she screamed and struggled against her transformation; she clawed her hands across the floor, and the stone floor squeezed into her hands like melting putty. She was becoming sexier in every aspect of her being. But the transformation was far from over. To my horror, I began to hear her thoughts; they were simple, all things considered. This thing was making her think only what it wanted her to think.
‘What is happening to me?’
As her feet and legs became even more elegant, like the most exotic dancer’s in the world, another thought came out, followed by a command from a booming voice.
“Feels soooo goood…”
Submit. Obey. Consume. Transform.
Grace responded in her head.
“What are you turning me into?”
A demon of sex. You will twist men into your obedient slaves. In exchange, we will give you pleasure in every action you perform for us.
Grace’s next thought was broken up, as the creature twisted her mind to its will.
“But…yes….I will…I will consume. I will convert. I will twist. I will obey.”
You will first make your little boyfriend over there into your mindless sex toy.
“But-I…No… I can’t…. I won’t….I….”
Grace looked into my eyes as her blue eyes started to fade away, being replaced by a blood red crimson.
As the last color fell from her eyes, she uttered a final line.
Suddenly, her struggling ceased as her transformation concluded. I fell unconscious at her feet as she rose to consciousness.
I don’t know how long I was out. She was staring above me. Grace… or what used to be Grace. Looking into her crimson eyes, I knew she was gone. I felt my mind cloud at her gaze, arousing thoughts bursting through my mind. I wanted to resist, but I couldn’t; my will was still drained from my vain attempt to save her. I noticed I was no longer at the brink, like I was; I was in a state of normalcy in terms of arousal, and I felt a wetness under me. I had already came from the sheer arousal. I felt weak as I started to rise up; I wondered how long I had been out. She read my thoughts and spoke.
“One day. I have…figured out what happened in that time. Whoever was here before worshipped a sex goddess; she had servants who wormed their ways into the hearts of men, turning them into mindless servants who could only think of sex. I suppose you should call me a Succubus, though that is not an entirely proper turn, certainly not the same. Grace is still here, David, but I have different… wants, now.”
She gave a wicked smile to me, and she forced me to take some time to appreciate her body.
Everything about her body was perfect. Her feet and legs were so elegant, and the very way she walked was like the most sophisticated dance. Her breasts were large and firm. Her arms were elegant and swift; her claw like hands strong enough to carve through stone, but elegant enough to do even the most precise task. I felt her put her claws on the side of my head as she made direct eye contact with me. Her eyes were crimson, and I realized how beautiful they were. Something in the back of my mind told me she had the most ability to control me when in direct eye contact, but I didn’t care. I just looked into the pools of red, taking a moment to notice her wild long hair, but then focusing the rest of my attention on her eyes. I was aroused again, and she spoke.
“You climax one more time. Then you become mine.”
I felt my mind slough off as I stared into her eyes. I couldn’t look away, but I kept losing things…
What was my name?
Why was I here?
Who am I?
Looking into her eyes, I realize that it took only a few seconds to forget everything. All I remember now is Grace. But I can still think… how long will she give me that luxury? I felt her pump repetitive thoughts into my head. These thoughts would probably be all I thought always when she finally finishes with me.
Grace stood and turned away from me, so I took the time to look upon her wings. They were beautiful; a mix of red and black stretched out from her back. Everything about Grace is perfect.
She spoke. Everything about Grace is perfect.
“I’ll keep your soul around, always near me. Never know when I will want to have this fun again. Hope you enjoyed being a free thinker.”
I obey Grace. Everything about Grace is perfect.
She came upon me, forcing my member into her. I want to be used by Grace. I felt so aroused; just being in her brought me to the edge. Everything about Grace is perfect.
“Moan like a whore for me.”
I gave a moan, so sexual as I released it from my lips. I obey Grace. I looked into her perfect crimson eyes. Everything about Grace is perfect. She ravaged me, and I felt myself right at the edge, she simply had to will it and I would be hers. I want to be used by Grace.
I pushed the thoughts she pumped into my head out. One final act of willpower. I began to sob as I thought about how Grace was gone, and I would soon be gone too. I had to stop her, stop her from doing this to anyone else. But I couldn’t. All I could do is lie there and sob as she twisted me to her whim. I composed myself to look at her; a slight look of pity, suggesting Grace was still in there somewhere. I felt my arousal slow, and she forced her lips onto mine. She slid her tongue into her mouth, and I couldn’t do anything but go into it. We had the most passionate kiss ever; I felt so good as her lips separated from mine. I love Grace.
I opened myself up, vulnerable after that act of passion. The thoughts returned. Everything about Grace is perfect. I love Grace. I obey Grace. Finally, I felt her getting ready to finish me; I became more aroused than I had ever been before, and finally I came, the greatest wave of pleasure spreading all over my body as I tremble massively and went back to looking into those pools of crimson. I feel my soul leaving my body and entering into her. It was done. I would be reduced to her sex toy. As my last bit of free will fades, I think about how much I loved her before this.
I love Grace. I obey Grace. I wanted to be used by Grace. Everything about Grace is perfect. I belong to Grace.