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Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don't own The Friends, or any characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes above to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content. This was written for the prompt 'Pillow'

Description: The Mattress King punishes Chandler for his affair with Janice. He'll never be the same again.

Content Codes: ncon, pwp, silly, mc, magic, morph, tent, trans



Friends: Crazy Pillow Talk
by JD (joandoe@gmail.com)

Janice knelt glassy-eyed before her husband The Mattress King and told him everything of her affair with Chandler. She wouldn't remember doing so, for his infernal powers allowed her only to remember deciding she truly desired only him. He chided himself for allowing Janice to slip from his control even as he plotted vengeance upon the man who'd made a cuckold of him. Imprisoned within the mundane realm, he was still so much more than the flesh he wore. He specially prepared the most luxurious pillow in his store for anonymous courier delivery to Chandler the next morning.

Chandler was baffled. He had no idea who would send him a pillow; the courier would say only that it was from a gift agency. As he turned the unwrapped pillow over in his hands the idea mysteriously ceased feeling strange. He had to fight the urge to go back to bed before work, but as soon as he dropped the pillow in his room the urge lessened. He left for work in a hurry, the pillow forgotten before he left the building.

Her mind newly made up, Janice rang him at work and told him their adulterous relationship was a mistake, and she never wanted to see him again. Nothing else he did seemed to go right, and at the end of a long, tiring, heartbreaking day he wanted only to climb into a t-shirt and boxers, and sleep. The new pillow was gone from his floor, having moved unnoticed beneath his old familiar pillow. He climbed into bed, seeking sleep before Joey would inevitably return from a date to wake him accidently in the early hours.

Deep inside the pillow's abundantly fluffy core, evil stirred, like the first homicidal impulses of your favourite childhood teddy. The entity placed within sought vengeance. Undetected by Chandler inches beneath his resting head, it manifested flesh the colour of spilled oil and expanded out either side of the pillow in the form of sinuous tentacles of coarse yet slimy texture. First two, then four, then still more until they lay in deep piles to each side of the bed, originating in the infernally charged pillow. As they gently pulsed Chandler awoke in the dark, in confusion, and reached for the bedside light. His hand never made it.

The tentacles all moved at once through the darkness. The pillow shuddered as the four strongest, most powerful, targeted Chandler's limbs with far more strength than their thin mass would have suggested possible. A fifth waited until he opened his mouth to shout, or even scream, and sprang effortlessly between his teeth. Whatever the sound he intended, it was choked off immediately by the slimy tentacle forced down into his gullet. Panicked and terrified, he gagged and bit to no discernable effect.

Chandler fought his unseen attacker. Never the burliest of men, his terror fuelled struggles were in vain. The pillow used its demonic appendages to bend his straining limbs until he was upon his knees. Chandler thought himself in the grip of the most terrifyingly realistic nightmare of his life. He saw movement in the darkness and felt the pulsing, thrusting, horror between his teeth and within his throat. He shamelessly wet the bed as his shirt and boxers were ripped from his body by ever more pillow spawned tentacles.

Some that moved across his skin pressed flatly, spreading out across his body to cover the pink flesh with an oily second skin. Similarly, the tentacle that gagged his mouth expanded only outside his lips, spreading coolly across his face while the pumping tip still raped his throat. He thought his terror had peaked as the ooze spread across his eyes... only to leap to a new level as a tentacle began probing his ass.

The entity within the pillow had waited until Chandler could fully appreciate the penetration by a particularly thick and slimy appendage. It eased him open, and then was within. Chandler's fragile mind was faced with the realisation that something inhuman was thrusting into him from both ends just as a further tentacle wrapped pulsing around his flaccid member. The entity again worked on Chandler's mind, dampening his fear into non-existence while encouraging artificial arousal.

In moments, utterly shocked, Chandler was hard as a rock and rocking his hips back at the thrusts into his ass. His body was completely coated by then, with tiny tendrils snaking into his ears, his eyes, his nose, even down his urethra. It fed air to his lungs even as it began changing his body at the most basic level. He genitals shrank even as the pleasure he felt intensified. His terror completely masked, all he wanted was to suck, and fuck, and be taken. It was like being Rachel in High School. His whole body felt strange, but so very good, as it changed from one state to another.
As a final distraction to Chandler's fading rational thoughts, it brought his changed body into a string of powerful climaxes alien to men. The entity faded into incorporeality as it withdrew into the pillow. The final tentacle flick on the light to reveal Chandler was a man no longer. Every aspect of his masculinity had been remade, from facial features, to genitals and the rest of his body, even down to the chromosomal level. She had even grown long hair.

Shaking with the orgasmic aftershocks, Chandler tried to make sense of it all. She had one hand upon a sweaty full breast, the other probing for a cock no longer there. She reached the conclusion that she must always have been a woman, perhaps living as a man, as her father did the opposite. It even made sense given her seemingly feminine name. The human mind could not accept the impossible, and so most of her friends and family reached the same conclusion and ignored even photo evidence to the contrary as products of the dissenting and scared psychic Phoebe's "crazy pillow talk".


    

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