Andrew could only grin. He'd set the mood for his quite attractive lesbian friends perfectly, he'd gotten well out of the way . . . now to use his brand new powers. His body vanished, and his essence hopped from object form to object form, trying to find something that the lovebirds wouldn't touch and possibly damage in their imminent bubbling of desire, but that would also have a good vantage point.

The couch? Any view he'd have would be too close, not giving him a good vantage point.

Carpet fibers? While the view would likely be good, he didn't feel like soaking up sweat and sexual juices like a sponge.

Side table? Made of balsa and glass. If they bumped him in this form, he'd break. Fast.

Bowl? Crystal. Table gets bumped, he'd shatter. Definitely not.

Small chocolate candies . . . hm. Unlikely to get touched in the midst of sexual passion, they had a good vantage point of every point in the room, they were sturdy enough that they'd remain in one piece (or, rather, multiple pieces- none of them would break, but they'd likely be separated) if the table and bowl got upended.

Ding ding ding! Winner, winner, chicken dinner! Which was good, because he only had so many switches left for the next hour. He was allowed eight in an hour, and he had used . . . four? The carpet, the table, the bowl, the chocolate . . . yes, four. He had to go three hours without switching or touching human skin to be able to return to normal, so maybe using half his allotted switches wasn't exactly the best idea, but hey. This would be worth it!

======

"Andrew! Andrew . . . huh. Where'd he go?" Cassandra asked empty air. She brushed her long ebon tresses behind her ear, honestly confused as to how he'd left the house without making a sound. Soft grey eyes scanned the room in confusion, but her best friend had evidently poofed.

"You have your horny girlfriend ready to go, and you're worrying where the weirdo voyeur is?" Mira purred, nibbling her shorter, younger girlfriend's ear in pure lust. The tomboyish skater girl was a full head taller than Cassandra, and just had more presence in general- vivid bubblegum-pink hair, big, beautiful blue eyes, generous curves, and a shirt with Bad Religion's logo (to wit, a Christian cross with a red line through it) had a tendency to do that.

"That's exactly why I'm wondering," Cassandra giggled, loving Mira's attention to her ear but quite desiring that excited mouth to be busy elsewhere. "It's pretty suspicious that my fucking sexy girlfriend is just putty in my hands and he just happens to be nowhere in sight."

"I'm always putty in your hands, Cass," Mira smiled, "him not being here is just a coincidence. Come on," she whined with need, "fuck meeeee," she dragged it out huskily, a living pillar of desire.

"Ahem," Cassandra gave Mira a stern glare, full of power and arrogance. "Goddess Cassandra," she corrected. "I do not pleasure disobedient slaves . . ."

Mira whimpered in arousal. "Goddess Cassandra, I beg you, use and abuse me, make me yours, fuck me until I collapse . . ."

"Go get the crop," Cassandra smirked, "I must test your devotion before I use you . . ."

Mira squeaked, and hurried away, giving Cassandra enough time to shutter all the windows and quickly light some candles, remove her shirt to reveal the black corset she wore underneath, remove her jeans  to expose her miles of perfect nylon-clad leg, swap out her work flats for high-heeled black boots. Four minutes changed a short, pretty girl next door into a sadistic sex goddess.

======

Andrew was . . . overwhelmed, to say the least. The vantage point of a piece of chocolate afforded him a perfect view of Cassandra's transformation, and well . . .

He'd expected something insane, knowing how much Cassandra would change, her habit of becoming the perfect girl for anyone she dated. This, however, was something else. Something new entirely. She had completely become nothing less than the ultimate dominatrix, at least in appearance. Tiny black panties, a corset that accentuated her soft curves perfectly, knee-high leather boots, red silk nylons that she hid . . . somewhere . . . and, bonus, no bra.

It really was unfortunate that she was a lesbian, at least to Andrew- after all, how often would he fantasize about what she would do in an attempt to be perfect for him? However, this was just as good, if not better. She was going to take a big, tough girl and reduce her to a whimpering servant . . .

Yes.

======

Mira returned, having taken the liberty of gagging herself before presenting Cassandra with a short riding crop. She'd stripped down to her lingerie, which (if one was paying sufficient attention) were covered in lock and gate motifs, sending the subliminal message that there was no entry except to the one with the key . . . and, suitably enough, the riding crop she'd just handed Cassandra used an oversized old-fashioned key as its grip.

"Such an obedient pet . . ." Cassandra purred, reaching a single finger to scratch at her submissive paramour's chin, "but I'm going to need you on your knees. There is no reward without sacrifice," she finished, pulling her hand away and hearing the tiny whimper of desire from behind Mira's gag. "Now, slave," she growled.

Mira hit her knees instantly, looking up reverently at Cassandra and practically purring her approval for the Mistress she had. Every so often, her eyes would flick from Cassandra's lovely yet harsh face to the flexing leather crop between her hands, wondering when the pain would come.

"First," the ravenette smiled evilly, "a test of endurance. How many times can I strike you before you cry out? The longer you hold out on this test, the more glorious I will make your reward," she promised. "One," she purred, having flicked the leather crop onto Mira's unsuspecting breast without warning. 

The pinkette whimpered slightly, but gave little sign she'd actually been hit for the first strike, and managed the same for the second, across her other breast- "Two."

Walking around Mira's body, Cassandra quickly added a third and fourth strike, attacking her girlfriend's behind with the same controlled, lightning-fast power.

======

Were Andrew still in human form, he'd be drooling. He was in perfect position to see every individual smack of the crop on Mira's curvy form, to watch Cassandra take liberties with her girlfriend's body.

Breasts, thighs, behind, collarbone, and even a few hard flicks on Mira's sex, Andrew was privy to it all, waiting for the moment that Mira broke. It couldn't be far off now . . .

======

Mira shrieked behind her gag, having finally had enough. Her mind was drifting, her stomach twisting in knots, her loins burning for release. Blue eyes pleaded silently with gray, begging to be rewarded.

"Mmm . . . Twenty-two is your limit, then?" Cassandra teased, sliding the crop along Mira's throat teasingly. "In that case . . . you may stand and prove your control. Give me what I desire . . . even as your own desires are held at bay."

Mira nodded, slowly getting to her feet and shuddering with need. Quaking, she plunged her hand into the bowl of chocolate candies, and began feeding them to Cassandra one by one.

"Mmmmnh . . . so good," she purred, allowing the candy coating on each chocolate to melt on her tongue before gulping it down.

======

Andrew jumped from one chocolate body to another in a panic, only succeeding in moving a quarter inch in Mira's palm. However, he tried to calm himself . . . maybe Cassandra's tooth would count as nonliving so he could occupy it. He calmed himself with this thought for but a second. 

Mira's fingers pinched his form, already melting from her body heat, and dangled Andrew over Cassandra's maw, forced him to watch as another candy just like himself melted into an indistinct blob of sugary confection on a warm, wet tongue . . . and was consigned to the abyssal darkness of the ravenette's throat.

Falling . . . landing . . . melting . . . gulping . . . and, by some miracle, Andrew remained, melted chocolate mixed with warm saliva, slowly rising in his friend's hellishly hot mouth.

======

"Ahhhh, good . . ." Cassandra purred, feeling a droplet of drool slip from her mouth, but ignoring it to return to teasing Mira. "Now . . ." She purred, "lick my boots, slave, get them clean . . . and I shall reward you," she grinned, removing the gag from her girlfriend's mouth so she could do the task set before her.

Mira eagerly fell to the floor, tonguing the black leather with vigor and gusto, her body aching for attention but her mind quelled by submissive desires. So good . . . so satisfying to serve . . . so painful to hold back her need . . .

======

Okay. Andrew was on Cassandra's breast, sliding off because he was a tiny drop of saliva and the lovely lesbian was leaning forward. Being a corset wouldn't be so bad, and with the ravenette seated like this he could transfer into her panties. All he had to do was wait to drip onto the corset. 

Sliding down soft, jiggling bosom was perfection, and he was fast approaching the nipple. He'd cling to it, and slide down the underside of her tit, and then bam. He'd be her corset.

. . . or he could wind up just dripping off her nipple and plummeting to the ground. 

Andrew quickly changed his plan, to go from the carpet to the couch to Cassie's panties. He still had three changes left, he could do it . . .

So of course, he landed on one of her boots, with the imminent threat of being licked up and digested by his best friend's girlfriend hanging overhead. 

He became the boot, which for some inane reason wasn't touching the nylon, so he had to become the insole . . .

Oh shit. He couldn't shift.

He had to wait an hour . . . as an insole under Cassandra's heavy, sweaty foot.

======

Cassandra grinned and got to her feet. "Now for your favorite part, pet . . . being trampled, with the egg toy in you."

"Y-yes, Goddess, thank you!" Mira whimpered with delight, grabbing the tiny, vibrating plastic egg from under the couch and switching it on.

The two of them would be having tons of fun . . . and, unwittingly, battering their friend so much that he forgot to use his powers when they became available again.