PHEREMONES
The sun was a warm, heavy blanket on her skin, and Chloe sighed, arching her back like a cat. Her name felt right on her tongue, a perfect, pretty name for a perfect, pretty girl. The person she used to be was a distant memory, a boring dream she’d woken up from. She stretched her long, toned legs, pointing her toes, feeling the slight give of the grass beneath her towel. Her new body was a masterpiece, and she was its proud, bitchy creator.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth blooming in her chest. This was her favourite part. The Elixir had done more than just give her this incredible body – these big, round tits, this tight, flat stomach, this ass that could make angels weep – it had given her power. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and with it, she released her gift into the air.
It was a scent, but more than that. It was a feeling. A thick, intoxicating wave of pure, undiluted sex that rolled out from her glistening skin. It smelled like vanilla and expensive perfume and something else, something primal and wet. It was a silent command, a psychic lure that promised pleasure and demanded worship. Mmmmmh, yes, she thought, a shiver of delight running down her spine. Come and get it, boys.
It didn't take long. The sputtering sound of a lawnmower two houses down cut out abruptly. Chloe didn't have to open her eyes to know that Kyle from next door had just abandoned his chores. She could feel his mind, suddenly foggy and single-minded, turning towards her garden like a flower to the sun.
Then came the thud of a football hitting a fence, followed by silence. The twins from down the street. She pictured them, their goofy smiles replaced by slack-jawed need. They were coming. She could feel them all, a half-dozen minds, all of them suddenly empty of everything but the overwhelming urge to find the source of this heavenly scent.
She heard the soft thud of sneakers on grass. She opened her eyes and looked at them. A perfect, pathetic little circle of horny neighbourhood boys. They stood there, staring, their chests heaving, their eyes wide and glazed. They looked so dumb. So helpless. She loved it.
Chloe rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand and letting her blonde hair cascade over her shoulder. She made sure to give them a good view of her tits, pushed up and perfect. "Well?" she purred, her voice a lazy, condescending drawl. "Are you lost?"
One of them, a thick-necked jock named Jason, swallowed hard. His eyes were locked on her body. "We… we just…"
"Just what?" Chloe giggled, a high, bitchy sound that made her new pussy throb. "You followed a pretty smell? Aww, that's so cute. Like little puppies." She let her gaze drop, pointedly, to the straining bulges in their shorts. "But it looks like you've got something else on your minds."
A collective shudder went through the group. The pheromones were doing their work, melting their brains and hardening their cocks. She was the centre of their universe.
"Don't be shy now," she cooed, sitting up and crossing her legs. She trailed a single, manicured nail up her inner thigh. "I know why you're here. You want to play with me, don't you?"
They just stared, their mouths agape. Chloe sighed, as if this were all so terribly tiresome. "Fine. I'll make it easy for you. Take them out. All of you. Let me see what you're packing."
The command cut through their haze. They fumbled with belts and zippers, their movements clumsy and desperate. One by one, their cocks sprang free – a collection of eager, twitching flesh, all pointing directly at her. It was a beautiful sight. A monument to her power.
"Yessss," she hissed, her own hand slipping between her legs to rub her slick clit. "Now, stroke them for me. I want you to look at this body and fucking cum all over it."
The air filled with the wet, rhythmic sound of them fisting their cocks. Their grunts and groans were music to her ears. She watched them, a smug, triumphant smirk on her face. They were nothing. Just mindless drones, their bodies and their wills completely under her control.
"Look at you," she taunted, her voice dripping with venomous delight. "All those big, strong boys, reduced to this. Jerking off for a girl you don't even know. You're pathetic. And you fucking love it."
Jason was the first to go. He let out a strangled cry, his thick cock erupting. A long, hot rope of cum splattered across her stomach and tits. The sight of it, the feeling of that warm, sticky claim on her skin, was all it took to set off the others. They came in a chain reaction, a symphony of grunts and moans. Cum landed on her legs, her face, in her hair. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, letting a spurt land on her tongue.
It was glorious. She was being anointed in their lust, and with every drop, she felt stronger, more powerful, more... her. The old, weak version of herself was being washed away in a tide of their submission.
When the last one had spent himself, they stood there, panting and spent, looking at the gorgeous mess they’d made. She was glistening, a work of art painted in their desire.
She scooped a finger through the cum pooling on her tit and brought it to her lips, sucking it clean with a loud, satisfied pop.
"Good boys," she purred, her voice laced with contempt. "Now get the fuck off my lawn. You're boring me."
She watched them scramble away, their faces burning with a confusing mix of shame and bliss. She didn't give them another thought. She lay back down on the towel, the sun baking their tribute into her skin, and she laughed. A loud, cruel, beautiful laugh. She was Chloe now. And Chloe always, always won.
