Revealing The Planes: Pilot

Revealing the Planes Pilot
Tags: Fantasy, MTG, Transformation/Transgender, Masturbation

Elybai tossed a row of scrolls onto the floor with a clatter of wood and crystals. No matter how many scrolls she looked through, she couldn’t find a solution to the god’s-damned curse.

Her ‘home’ in Selhoff was in ruins. She pored over every book the alchemists of Innistrad had on hand, but knew well enough that no counter to that damnable lorekeeper’s magic would exist here.

The door groaned, and Elybai felt her back go straight.

“What are you doing here?” Said an angry woman, “Answer quickly, lorekeeper.”

She lifted her hands, his hands, in a pose of peace.

“Stay your weapon,” Elybai said, “I can explain, it is me, Elybai.”

It was her travelling partner, sometimes ‘friend’ when it mattered, Culi. The elf was definitely not from around here, and her awkward sense of modesty (or lack there of), made it obvious. Despite the cold mist that rolled through Selhoff at all hours, Culi only added a furred half-cape to her fur bikini and gloves.

“If you believe you’re behind an illusion,” She said as she pulled a jagged knife from her waist, “You’ve made your last mistake.”

“No,” Elybai said as she shuffled around the apartment to stay far from the woman’s knife, “This is the illusion, and I would drop it if I could. That damnable lorekeeper has me under a hex of his own design. I’ve been researching it all day, but without some lucky tincture I’ve never heard of, which isn’t possible, I am without access to my spells.”

The Lorekeeper, the man Elybai had hunted across planes. As she looked across the room, the ritual mirror piled on top of several books was reflecting his pale-bluish face.

Her plan seemed perfect. When the Lorekeeper walked to Innistrad, Elybai followed. She knew that he would repeat his usual pattern, seek out a source of dark or forbidden magic, and lock it away. His powers were potent, and his instincts sharpened, but she was one step ahead of him. She had travelled to Innistrad before, and knew of the dark alchemy performed in the Nephalian region. With a small few manipulations, she would send him on the course she wanted.

The second step was her specialty, polymorphing. She took his form, and intended to break into his temporary residence on the plain while he was away. She would search through the records she knew he carried with him from plane to plane, and hopefully find… it.

Instead, she walked through the door to his inn room, and was met with the Lorekeeper himself. Before she could even motion, he triggered his trap. A flash of white light, and a screeching sound that left Elybai screaming for moments after. A silencing hex, she couldn’t cast spells, shape her mana, she wasn’t even sure it was safe to planeswalk in this condition.

Worst of all, she was stuck in her altered shape, and it was beginning to have unfortunate side effects. She cursed her own capabilities, and the new form she had created. His baser urges, and hell if she knew he had any before today, blighted her mind.

The cause was right before her. In her ready pose, Culli’s supple body was displayed before her. With the spritz from the Selhoff mists shimmering on her exposed bosom, Elybai couldn’t help but linger on Culli’s admittedly superior figure.

While Elybai’s mind had lingered on the woman’s figure in the past, she liked to think her vast intellect had rationalized past the genetic jealousy. Many of her forms increased in cup size since then, removing the crisis.

Culli started to loosen up, but Elybai knew she couldn’t take a sigh of relief yet. Her accomplice was simple in her logic, and quick to meek out her own idea of justice. Quick was a keyword here.

“I guess that makes sense,” Culli said, “You definitely talk like Ely.”

The Keeper’s mind was whispering to Elybai’s, and it was too dull to be reasoned with. She found herself thankful for the thick leathers padded onto his pants, as she could feel that wholly masculine organ pressing hard against the boundary.

“Plus,” Culli said with a wry smirk, “It is a boon to see your manly foe so close.”

Her knives went back to her belt, and Elybai let herself take a breath of relief. Though, she needed to remember to reprimand Culli later on her lackluster dedication to their security.

“I’m exhausted from the chase,” Culli said as she swung one hip to the side, “I will wash, and we will seek your solution.”

Culli passed through the curtain to the bedroom, Ely felt a nagging tug in her thoughts, a pull impossible to ignore. Culli would wash? She would be in her most natural state, and a swaying curtain was all that divided them.

It twitched, it swelled, and Ely felt foolish even humouring the foreign limb. As if Culli’s form was new to her mind’s eye. Regardless, her pants were stiff with just the thought of a peek. Was this how every male mind worked, or just the primal instinct of this particular man? She never let an enchantment take this far a hold on her before. Was this the terror she enacted on fools she turned to sheep and left in fields to go mad as they slowly became one of the herd?

Against her superior judgement she stepped closer to the curtain until her eye had no choice but to align with the gap.

She turned away, her face turning red from the short sight she beheld.

Culli had stripped off her cloak right away, and was bent forward at the waist with the effort to remove the tightened leather and fur she called common wear. Her rear, accented by the primitive curved markings of her tribe that colored her body, assisted in reflecting the sordid moisture on her skin in the subtle lantern light.

A shadow haunted her. Hints of a clam with a pearl waiting to be exposed. It was an impression, but now her mind lingered on it.

Her pants, his pants, were uncomfortable now. She loosened to top strings, just to relieve the pressure. Even as a liberator of hidden things, she could not justify turning back to the private sight.

The swell in her pants had no qualms about justification. She moved back to peek again.

Damned Culli and her lack of shame. She was still there, bent forward and ass in the air, loosening her boots one string at a time.

Ely’s eyes focused now, against her will, over the space her brief glance hid before. That beautiful curve, a sheath waiting for a sword. A muscle she never cared to think of before was flexing now, making her aware just how hard she was.

“No,” She whispered to no one, “What witless brute, what juvenile child, requires a beggars peep show to gain satisfaction?”

One boot came off, and Culli stood up long enough for Ely to see her chest sway in her brassiere. Then she leaned forward again to start on the next.

Ely muffled a small groan of pathetic resistant, then placed her hand at the base of her stomach. It crept down, until she felt it make contact with the warm skin of his, her, erection.

Just a moment, to know what it feels like.

Her hand gripped it, and she could feel the permeating heat. Culli’s swaying bottom gave her the will to make a slow stroke up the length. Her member still hidden in her pants, the action felt secretive, exciting. Her toes spread as her fingers tapped the tip of the head. It was an electric sensation.

Now, she needed to be finished.

Her hand sat in place, there near the tip. She needed to let go, string herself up again, and go talk to Culli.

Still she didn’t move. Then her hand slid back down the warm length, then rose again. Watching Culli, her womanly lips pointing toward Ely’s gained manhood, it felt like an invitation. She could imagine the warmth of it, sliding over her, better than any hand. It was moist, she knew that from personal experience with her own anatomy. If a dry hand felt this good, what would the sleeve of a woman feel like?

Ely’s hand was speeding up, the strokes taking just over a second each, her grip adjusting with each attempt. It was so natural, instinctive. She didn’t hurt herself as she feared, there was only pleasure, and the temptation for more.

Would Culli welcome her in the bedroom? Elybai knew that Culli found the Lorekeeper’s form pleasing. He was fit for a Kor, and his rugged exterior fit her tribal, simple, mind. She would enjoy the Keeper riding her, his pole sunk to the hilt as she screamed some elf chant from whatever backwater plane she was from. Her round hips would buck against him, sink him deeper into her, touch his swelling head against her very womb in anticipation of his alien seed filling her with warm jets.

“Ely?” Said Culli as she stood.

Elybai’s mind snapped back to attention. She realized her breathing was heavy, and the penis in her hand, her penis, it was pulsing, it was so close. Her thighs were tensed, and her hand felt sweaty and hot. She felt mortified, her mind had fallen so far in such a short time. How could she let herself get so close to performing some base, instinctive, male mating by proxy. She wasn’t going to have sex with Culli, and she most definitely would not ejaculate in fantasy of mating with her partner, accomplice.

“Yes?” Ely managed to squeak out.

Culli was turned toward the curtain now, removing her top. The reddish gray fur fell away to let Culli’s ample bosom stand under its own perky power.

“Are you okay?” Culli asked. Though they were talking, Culli’s eyes were trained on her own breasts. She took one in her hand, and seemed to be checking a small wound she must have obtained days ago.

Her self-checkup lead to mindless massaging of her glistening skin. Elybai saw the woman’s nipple harden innocently.

Damned Culli!

“Of course,” Elybai responded. She realized that her hand had never left the still hard member in her hand. Her face was feeling flush. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t smart, it wasn’t feminine. It wasn’t her.

As if Elybai’s gaze made her aware of her own sexuality, Culli tweaked her nipple with a thumb. She circled the prominent areola, and smiled to herself. She wasn’t an elf known for her modesty.

Elybai could feel how close she was, she could imagine the satisfaction. If only she was closer, she would spill her seed across those magnificent mammaries without hesitation.

Her hand moved again, a new stroke that reignited the dimming fire. It started faster this time, her hands enveloped in natural lubrication. She felt something shift within her, and she knew, against all logic and everything decent, she couldn’t stop anymore.

A tear reached the corner of her eye. She felt like a monster, or a sad beggar on the corner of some Dominarian city.

She stroked faster, trying to push past the shame to reach release. She wanted this to be over, to feel that bliss that set a flame to all reason.

“A moment,” Culli said, “You have to see this.”

Ely’s heart leaped. Culli started walking toward the curtain.

“I’ll be right there,” Ely huffed, trying to stop her as her fingers pumped over the throbbing member.

“I will come,” Culli said as her wide hipped form got ever closer.

“No!” Elybai snapped in a hushed breath, but she couldn’t stop her hands.

Even the texture was pleasing. That heat over the sweaty veins. She could feel it expanding in her hand, could feel the oncoming jet as it traveled.

“Hush now,” Culli said, “It will be quick.”

As Culli’s hand reached for the curtain, Elybai’s eyes watching her beautiful breasts, her well trimmed red mound, the light off the slight sheen over her body. She couldn’t hold on.

With a stifled groan, she soiled the Lorekeeper’s pants. It came in pulses, one that almost seemed audible as the pleasure travelled her spine, the next getting her fingers moist as she couldn’t stop stroking, the third forcing her eyes closed and her calves to flex.

Culli stopped with her hand there, and looked back into the room as if thinking of something. Then she opened the curtain and walked out.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Culli asked as she looked at Elybai, or the Lorekeeper as it were.

The Kor was bent slightly forward, his pants untied, and his face sweaty.

“You look like you’ve been running, is something wrong with your spell?”

Elybai shook her head, “No, I’m fine.”

“Your cheeks are blue,” She said, “are you blushing?”

Culli punctuated the question with a small bounce, her breasts teetering up and down, Elybai’s eyes followed.

“What did you want?” She snapped, “We need to find me a proper cleansing spell.”

She tried to stand straight, but her lower stomach felt like it had ran its own marathon. Besides that, her groin was soaked, and feeling it rub against her slowly fading erection made it hard to control the overwhelming sense of shame.

Culli’s eyes popped open, “Oh, I forgot it in my sidebag. Let me grab it, it is the strangest artifact.”

The elf turned and went back through the curtain.

Elybai let out a long groan, and closed her eyes. Her hand went to the string of her pants, and tied it tight. The warm and thick liquid against her crotch would have to stay for the moment, a reminder of what she tried to do, wanted to do to Culli.

She pulled the white-blue hand of the Lorekeeper up to her face and saw the hint of the blueish jizzism there. It smelled faintly of a baked treat left out too long. Her stomach tightened, something within her quivered, and she dropped the hand in shame.

The Lorekeeper would pay for this, dearly.