Thomas meets a bully that humiliates him by making him dress up as a girl. I wonder why he wants him to do that? Gay Noncon Bullying Violence Cross-dressing, feminization, transgender
Thomas sighed as he stood by the door leading into the cafeteria. He didn’t want to walk in there: it was where all the students gathered, without the protection of his teachers and the neat, quiet classroom. Here they could do whatever they wanted with him, especially the worst among his bullies: Warren.
Warren had it in for him, bad. He seemed fixated on ruining his life every single day, without stop, and it was really getting to Thomas. He was nothing but a nerdy, silly nerd, why did this jock have to mess with him that way?
But he couldn’t stay out there all day long, he had to eat, and someone would come ask him what the hell was wrong with him if he didn’t. So he hoped everything would be better this time around, that Warren wouldn’t pick on him again, or push him around, or even give him a wedgie so bad that his balls would hurt for days. But of course, he didn’t have such luck.
Thomas managed to eat about half of his lunch before Warren, along with two other jocks, approached his table.
“Ah, it’s only you! I thought you were some new chick,” Warren spat cruelly, and his buddies laughed at once. Thomas was small, petite. From behind, he might have been mistaken for a thin girl, especially since he carried his brown hair relatively long for a boy. Nothing outrageous, but it did come close to his shoulders. He liked it that way, what was so wrong about it?
Thomas blushed furiously, looking down at his meal, trying to get them to leave him alone by ignoring those cruel remarks. Of course that didn’t help at all.
“Look at the way he dresses, that hairstyle? I bet you fucking spend hours in front of the mirror to get it just the way you like it, huh, sissy?” Warren hissed his way, smacking Thomas on the side of the head.
“P…please, stop it, I didn’t do anything to you,” Thomas whimpered meekly, but of course that only encouraged Warren further. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation. Reacting got him in trouble, not reacting did as well. He just couldn’t escape it.
“Oh, someone’s in trouble now!” Warren barked, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.
Warren towered easily over the small nerd, his muscles bulging thanks to daily exercises. Next to his favorite victim, the jock looked like some kind of massive Hulk, ready to smash Thomas at any given time.
Before he could even try and run away from the cafeteria, Thomas was grabbed and shoved against the wall. He panted heavily as Warren forced him to turn around, and for a second, it was almost as if the big jock was going to fuck his small, cute little ass from behind. After all, that was sort of how porn movies began.
A young, vulnerable pretty boy pinned against the wall, a massive, muscular young man right behind him, ready to…
But of course Warren didn’t lower his pants and get fucked by Thomas, that would have been insane. Instead, he did what he enjoyed the most: grabbed at his victim’s boxers and pulled them up so hard the fabric got tangled up in his private parts, sinking into his ass painfully. His balls were on fire, it hurt like hell, and the shrill little squeal that escaped his lips made him seem even more so like the girl Warren insisted that he was.
Warren let go of him, and walked away as his two friends high fived him to congratulate the quarterback for another great prank. No one approached Thomas, no one gave him a helping hand as he slowly stood up and stepped away, trying to hold back the tears.
“Hey, sissy!” Warren’s voice was the first thing to greet him the following morning. It startled Thomas, of course, since he didn’t expect the jock to be at school, not that ealy anyways.
Thomas made a point of arriving before anyone else in his class. It offered a bit of extra security and also granted him time to just enjoy some songs before school started.
The petite boy gasped, accidentally pulling the cord off his phone. He had been listening to music, something sweet and happy from Ariana Grande, and now the song blasted not into his ears but into the classroom, making Warren laugh cruelly.
“God, you’re such a fucking girl!” he hissed with dark amusement. The tall, muscular man was carrying a bag with him, and much to Thomas’ surprise, he actually threw it his way. Thomas managed to clumsily catch it, but almost fell down in the process.
Somehow maintaining his balance, he looked up at Warren with a look of confusion.
“Put that on. And don’t you fucking dare argue, sissy, because I’m going to beat you up into a pulp if you do,” Warren threatened Thomas, who timidly peeked into the bag before gasping loudly.
Inside, there was a long, blonde wig that looked surprisingly realistic, and a tight little red dress alongside a pair of high heels.
“W…what?” he managed to mumble, but Warren fisted his hands and took a step forward, making Thomas immediately jump back. “Sorry, sorry! Ok, I won’t ask any questions, but please don’t hurt me!”
“Good. Now stop wasting my time and get dressed,” he demanded, and Thomas reluctantly agreed, taking off his jeans and designer shirt in front of that damned bully. Once he was standing in nothing but his underwear, feeling a cold shiver rushing up and down his body, he wondered, for a single second, if Warren was actually into this. If that’s why he was doing all of this to him.
But the thought swam away as easily as it had arrived, and by the time Thomas got the wig in place and slipped into the dress and shoes, the first of his classmates began to arrive.
Much to his shock, no one actually began laughing hysterically at his appearance. No one seemed to notice! He just sat down, and realized a few guys were eying him up, but not with amusement or cruelty. They were actually… smiling his way?
How could this be possible? Did no one recognize him? Did no one see that this was a cruel prank?
“Hey, wait, isn’t that… what the fuck?” one of his classmates finally said, but not before second period. It had taken them such a long time to notice something was amiss! “Thomas, what the hell are you wearing?!”
That was his cue to run, of course, and run he did. He whimpered miserably as he made it out of the school and onto the street, deciding to skip the rest of his classes, wanting nothing but to get home.
But before he could go even a block toward safety, someone grabbed him by the arm violently and threw him into a back alley, away from sight. No one would come help him now.
Thomas trembled, sitting on the floor, the dress getting dirty with whatever was lying there. Warren towered over him, smirking harder than ever before.
“Where the hell do you think you are going?!”
“H…home!” Thomas managed to reply between tears, trembling in fear. He expected to get a beating, but instead, Warren grabbed at his arm again, this time to pull him up.
“Yeah, go home. But not to cry into your pillow like a fucking loser. Get yourself ready, because from now on, you can’t come to school dressed in your normal fucking clothes any more. Fuck no. You’ll dress like a girl, wear make up, all that stuff, do you hear me? I see you come into school with a pair of jeans, no matter how fucking tight they might be, and you’ll end up in the hospital for the rest of the year, nerd!” Warren threatened him violently, shaking Thomas up by the arm so hard he almost fell down all over again.
Thomas nodded meekly, trembling all over and sobbing miserably.
“Good. You look better as a girl anyways, I’m doing you a favor,” Warren added cruelly, and shoved him back toward the street. “Go now, get ready! I want to see a real pretty girl tomorrow, you sissy! You better look like one, and act like one too”
Thomas was simply too terrified to do anything but obey. His older sister still lived at home, so there was plenty of makeup and dresses around the house.
The wig wouldn’t work: it looked like a fake after a while, and students had seen him wearing it. So instead, he styled his hair in a pretty pair of ponytails, giving him a cute look, framing his already dainty face in a way that made him even more feminine than he already was.
Eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, the whole nines, along with a blue dress managed to make Thomas look like a real girl. Pretty, even. He trembled as he stepped into his usual classroom, fearing this time they’d recognize him at once, even with the lipgloss, even with the new hairstyle, even with the pretty, girlish blue dress with a lovely cleavage. He had nothing to stuff the bra he was wearing with, but it gave the illusion that he had tiny yet perky tits, barely noticeable but still there. It was padded, but Thomas wouldn’t have known about that.
He was mortified, confused and alarmed, thinking that at any moment someone would notice who he was, but this time, no one did. No one said a word, and some guys actually tried to flirt with him before he rushed meekly away.
It wasn’t until a few days after changing the way he dressed that he actually began to have some fun with it. He could match and mix colors freely, without anyone mocking him, and makeup was fun, especially after he watched a ton of tutorials. He even considered letting his hair grow so he could wear it like Ariana Grande.
Men noticed him… but not because he was a guy dressed like a girl. No. Because they thought he was a cute, feminine, shy girl. They ogled at him, stared at his ass, and his slim legs. They liked him.
No one had paid so much attention to him before, at least not any positive kind.
It wasn’t until three weeks later that he finally wondered if he could go back to normal. To wear his usual clothes, to act like a boy again. Did he even want to? He didn’t know, but he had to try.
Maybe that jock had gotten bored with it. He hadn’t even spoken to him, hadn’t even mocked or bullied him in all that time. Probably Warren had found a new victim, and he wouldn’t even remember the fact that he had warned him never to dress like a boy again.
He was tense all morning long, wondering if a beating up was about to fall down on him, but it never happened. School went on as usual, with everyone just ignoring him, leaving him alone. It was good… but as good as dressing like a girl, he couldn’t lie… but good nonetheless.
Warren had walked right past him and either not recognized him or completely ignored Thomas.
So by the time he stepped outside the school, Thomas was sure it was all over. Maybe he would go back to wearing dresses, maybe not… but it would be his decision now. No more bullying, no more being wedgied into tears.
He never saw it coming, not for a second. One second he was walking calmly, listening to music, the other he was being tossed into Warren’s Dodge Challenger so roughly his head began to spin.
“Hey, wait, no, no!” Thomas whimpered, but it was too late. Warren was already speeding away.
It didn’t take long for them to arrive at Warren’s place. No one was home, it seemed, and Thomas was too terrified to cry out for help even as he was dragged into the house, up the stairs and into the jock’s bedroom.
“I fucking told you not to come to school dressed as a guy any more! You’re not a fucking guy, you are a sissy, a girl, and you’re going to get punished for fucking pretending you aren’t!” Warren hissed cruelly, handing him that same dress he had worn weeks before. How had he gotten it back? No, it couldn’t be the exact same, he had thrown it in the trash.
Warren had gone back to the store and bought another, just to get Thomas into it.
“I don’t want to…” Thomas whimpered, but Warren wouldn’t hear it. A threat was all it took. Thomas got into the dress, and put a new wig on, trembling with fear, wondering what this muscular man would do to him.
He was grabbed and forced onto the wall again, much like he had during that lunch break weeks before. His chest was pinned against the unforgiving wall, his body trembling underneath the dress.
This time, a wedgie didn’t arrive. This time, his underwear went down instead of up.
And this time, Warren did unzip his own pants.
Thomas gasped out loud as his bully slid the dress’ skirt up his legs, caressing his hips, pinching at his ass. There was no one there to help him, but… did he want to be rescued?
“I want you to moan like the little slut that you are,” Warren grunted, and just like that, Thomas felt a firmness pressing against his buttocks, against his entrance. He was dressed like a girl, expected to act like one, and about to get fucked from behind.
He trembled, though this time he didn’t know for sure if it was out of fear or arousal. He didn’t know what to think, how to feel any longer.
“Moan for me!” Warren demanded, thrusting forward, penetrating that virgin ass, filling it up with his erect, throbbing cock. And Thomas moaned for him. Moaned and gasped and whimpered, experiencing a mixture of pleasure and pain unlike anything he had ever felt before.
He was a virgin, of course, and not just from behind. He had never touched a girl, he had never felt someone’s touch wrapping around his dick. Only his own.
Thomas moaned as that long, thick rod impaled his ass over and over again, as his petite body was shoved against the wall with each new thrust. It felt… horrible and amazing at the same time. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but at the same time, he wanted more, he wanted everything Warren was offering him.
And so he allowed that jock to fuck his ass. Not that he had a choice, not that he could stop him from doing whatever he wanted to him, but still. He let Warren do it, he felt his own cock throbbing hard against the wall, drenching the front of the dress with his precum.
He closed his eyes and moaned out loud like the girl he was supposed to be, and finally, when Warren’s cock slid deep inside his ass for the last time, filling him up with the tall, muscular jock’s cum, he gasped with a sort of surprised sigh so earnest and filled with confusion.
He felt himself cumming as well, a trembling orgasm that was unlike any he had experienced before.
Warren thrust out of that gaping ass then, and grabbed his favorite victim by the hips, forcing Thomas onto the bed.
“Get on all fours, slut. I’m going to fuck you again, and you better remember that you’re nothing but a girl now. A cock-hungry woman, do you hear me?!”
“Yes… yes, I do. I’m a girl,” Thomas whispered softly, his voice so feminine, so enticing. Not just any girl, but his. Warren’s.
Warren video called him the next week….
“Good to see you complying. you know you got to get on video call whenever I say. Or else. You know what happens when you don’t do what i say. Remember that black eye I gave you last week when you didn’t do what I said? Well next time its gonna be worse. Don’t forget how much i like fucking up your face when you don’t do what I say. I think its best to get to training a little faggot like you. You’re nothing but a little runt. might as well make yourself useful. Go on and stare at that dick. I’m not here with you but I can see you and i can see your eyes and where they are looking. I know if you’re staring at this big huge cock. Might as well stare until you fall in love. That would make you a faggot then. That would make you gay for looking at a cock so much. especially a big thick one like this. Most girls don’t even like it ’cause its too big. Only a fag would like one this thick. Gay dudes love big cocks. you must be a gay dude if you stare at it this much. Look at you. your eyes all heavy and glazed over. You better not look away. Keep your eyes glued to it. You’re lucky I even let you blink. This is a present for you. This is a fucking gift. You’re so lucky to have me take care of your desires. Your newly acquired desires anyway. I had to teach you to like dick. You didn’t like it at first, but then when I forced you into it, your true fag came out and you started to like it. Yeah. I don’t give a fuck, you better pretend to like it if you don’t, or I’m gonna beat the hell out of you after geography class tomorrow. In fact, you’re gonna meet up with me and you’re gonna suck ALL the cum out of this cock. You’re not gonna spit out half of it like you did last time, neither. You’re gonna take every last drop and swallow down your throat. I don’t care if you want to throw up this nasty spunk, you know I like seeing it all swallowed down. You should be thankful to have a piece of man inside of you. You don’t have any man left. You could use some. You should be on your fucking knees thanking me for this manly spunk. From a big tall man with a big tall cock. You like when I make you smell it? Take in that smelly scent. That’s the smell of a MAN. You like it. in fact, you love it, and you better thank me for letting you take in that fragrance, too. I do do whatever the sweet fuck I want with you. I’m a jock and you’re a fuckin nerd. What do you do, program computers? I don’t know and I don’t care. Looks like you’re afraid to talk to girls. I don’t see you with them, ever. In fact, I barely see you with anyone ever. You’re a loner and now you’ve got the best relationship a loser like you could ever get. You pretty much ask to get your ass kicked. Hey you better keep staring at this dick. Fall in love with this rod. Deal with it. That’s what loves all about. Its about compromise. See, I’m just a big old lover. I’ll make you love it. I’m pretty romantic. Best train your throat boy, because you’re gonna take it deeper this time. I know your jaw hurt when you did it last, well try to make it stronger. Maybe if you weren’t such a weakling you could take it. God, I’m so good to you to train you like this. I’m training you to be useful to somebody. I’m such a good person. I’m better than you. Better in every single way. That’s why cocksuckers like you do it. Because I’m better. You’re gonna run your tongue up and down that shaft. Look at me work more cum up for you. I’m saving up this load for you. I’m not letting a drop out. Its just building and building. i can literally feel my balls producing a big load of virile sperm. Hah. millions of my potential children will be swimming around in your mouth, on your face, and down your throat. How’s that feel? You gonna cry about it again? Does that hurt? No one takes your cum on their face. You’re not worth it. You’re not worth a bag of shit. But me? I’m the fucking man. I do whatever I want. Anything in the world is mine. So you do what i say. When I say it. No questions asked. If I tell you what to wear, you wear it. and you like it. If I tell you what to suck, you suck it. You better hope there’s a hot girl around to drain these nuts before I get to you. Because either way I’m gonna drown someone. I get so horny and worked up after gym I got to drain a gigantic load. Somebody is getting it. Even I’m dripping sweaty, you’re gonna take in this dick while I laugh at you. What a life. you’re such a loser. This is what losers get for losing. its the natural way of things. If you were a winner, you would get to be in my place. This is the order of life. Its the hierarchy. Got to keep you down there and me up here. But you’re doing a pretty good job keeping yourself down. A real man would stand up for himself. A real man wouldn’t gag on another man’s thick cock. Imagine putting a big huge cock in ANY real man’s face. You think he is just gonna drop to his knees and serve it? That is truly a sign of inferiority.
Tags: Feminization Bimbofication Latex fetish Female/Female lesbian sex
Apparently, when the “Check Engine” light comes on, it actually means something. Elizabeth Jenkins had just learned that the hard way. Her Fiat was dead at the side of the road. She was in the middle of nowhere, and it was pouring rain. She was fairly certain she was about to miss her speech to the graduating class of the University of Maine. Not that there were likely many future Fortune 500 CEOs in that class. Nonetheless, the speaker’s fee had been decent and, since she had sworn off relationships, she had a little free time on her weekends. Elizabeth didn’t understand how any serious career woman could afford the luxury of a love life. You didn’t get where she’d gotten, at 33 years old, without sacrifices. None of that mattered right now. She couldn’t even get cell reception and she, at the very least, needed to phone and apologize. Perhaps there was a home nearby? Even through the downpour, she could spot a large building in the distance. Digging an umbrella from behind the seat, she steeled herself for a wet walk. The umbrella didn’t turn out to be much help; the wind was blowing the rain almost sideways. She was soaked when she reached her destination. Thankfully, she kept her hair as short as her professional appearance allowed. As she neared the building became clearer. It was a mansion. An honest-to-god mansion, massive and Elizabeth guessed easily worth millions, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. It was at least a hundred years old and, for a moment, she had a flash of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” in her mind. It was silly, there was nothing like the Frankenstein place in the real world. There was no doorbell, just an ornate knocker shaped like a nymph. A nymph with bare breasts, Elizabeth was a little shocked to see. She grabbed it anyway and knocked firmly. Shivering slightly, she anxiously waited almost two minutes before the door opened at last. Elizabeth didn’t realize her jaw dropped, when the vision of the woman who answered the door came into view. She was, quite simply, exquisite. Perfect red lips, smooth, ever so slightly pale, skin and an hourglass figure out of an erotic comic book. Her eyes were the most piercing, icy, blue, that Elizabeth had ever seen and for a second it felt like she would sink into them. It wasn’t until moments later she noticed the woman was clad head-to-toe in latex. Elizabeth had never seen such a thing, or even heard about it outside rumors of fetish clubs. The latex was still somehow stylish. It hugged her form perfectly, showing off her fit body and her perky C-cup breasts. Elizabeth guessed she might be a decade older than herself; her waist-length, raven black, hair was showing streaks of white. It made her look wise. Elizabeth had never been more than a tiny bit bicurious, until now at least. Now it was more than a tiny bit. “Oh my poor dear!” the woman exclaimed, “Come inside at once!” Elizabeth gratefully did. She never suspected, when those doors closed behind her, her life would be forever changed. “You’re soaked,” she said with a tone that conveyed confidence and concern. Elizabeth considered herself highly confident, and this woman was putting her to shame. “Take those wet clothes off and we’ll find you something to wear while they dry.” Elizabeth hesitated. She didn’t know anything about this woman, not even her name. “Where are my manners?” the woman spoke, as if on cue, “I’m Gwendolyn.” “Elizabeth. Hi. Could you get me some new clothes first? Then I can find a bathroom to change in.” “Oh, you’re shy. That’s darling. I’ll grab a blanket for now. Then we can check my wardrobe. You’re not far off my size, except in the boobs department. Maybe, I have a robe or something.” “Thanks.” “Be right back.” Elizabeth slipped off her shoes and took a look around. The house was even more stunning on the inside. The word “opulent” gets over-used these days, this was true opulence. Gorgeous rugs. Fine paintings on the walls. A gorgeous crystal chandelier just for the foyer. Elizabeth had a very nice salary. This put her to shame. Even the blanket Gwendolyn returned with looks to be worth at least a thousand dollars. Gwendolyn was cold enough she took it anyway. Wrapping it over herself, she awkwardly removed her clothes. “Would you care for a drink?” “Do you have coffee?” “Not really. How about something, stronger, to start off?” “Sure.” Gwendolyn motioned for her to follow into the nearby room. It was a posh living room, impecably decorated, featuring chez lounges, beautiful couches and even a full bar. Her host picked up a bottle of something smoky and poured two fingers into a glass. She handed it to Elizabeth. “Enjoy.” “What is it?” “A cure for what ails you,” said with a smile, “bottoms up.” Elizabeth took a sip, her taste buds meeting with a smoky, sweet taste. Mead, maybe? It was delicious, and she drained the glass in a few gulps. She felt warmth spread through her as it went down. It was a lovely change from being frigid. “Good?” Gwendolyn asked. “Yeah. Now, can I use your phone? I need to call a mechanic. “Signal tower just got hit by lightning. Nobody’s phone is working within twenty miles of here. You’ll have to stay the night.” “Oh, I’d hate to impose,” it’s not that she was afraid. Gwendolyn seemed totally trustworthy, but to just stay in a stranger’s home? “I insist.” “Ok, sure.” “You shouldn’t drive after that drink anyway, even if I loaned you one of my cars.” “One of?” “I have six, at least at this home.” “Wow.” “Now Liz,” Gwendolyn continued, let’s get you some new clothes.” “Elizabeth, please,” she replied as she followed her host up the winding staircase. Every inch of the home was as splendid as the others. Upstairs, behind an oaken door, Gwendolyn led Elizabeth into a gorgeous bedchamber. Its high point was a four posted queen size bed. It was probably worth more than her car, especially now, and Elizabeth was already wondering what it would be like to sink into it. Beyond that, the rest of the room was wall-to-wall closets. Yet another impressive sight in a house full of them. The next surprise was Gwendolyn flipping a wall switch and every closet sliding open at once. Spread across the room was a massive wardrobe, each and every piece was made of latex. There was every kind of clothing, from casual to daring, to sexually provocative, from normal clothing to under garments and even swim wear. Nothing but latex as far as she could see. And beyond seeing, came the smell. A smell so unusual Elizabeth took a deep breath in and it made her head spin a little. Or was it the drink?
“What was that drink anyway? Mead?” “It wasn’t booze. It was a chemical I worked on for… a very secret organization. A single glass costs 4.7 million dollars.” “What?” “It has a very special effect on those who let it.” “Let it?” “Yes, all you need to do to avoid the effects is not allow them to happen. No need to worry?” “What effects?” “Making you my perfect live in loveslave.” “What? Are you kidding?” “No. And the very thought is already lodged in your mind. Staying here forever. This would be your room. This would be your wardrobe. And we would be together.” “Look, this is all very… I can’t stay here. I’m a CEO. I’m important.” “No family?” “None left.” “No friends?” “Not really.” “Sounds like a lonely life.” “It comes with the job.” “Why do you love your job so much?” “The money for one.” “I have far more.” “There’s also the power.” “You love power.” “Yes.” “So giving up your power would be the ultimate sacrifice.” “I suppose so, yes.” “What would you give it up for?” “Nothing.” “Really? Nothing? Not wealth? Not luxury? Not pleasure, pleasure beyond any you have felt?” “I… I don’t know.” “Think about it. A life of pure pleasure. This house, these clothes, and a life like none you’ve dreamed of.” “And sex?” “Oh such sex, my darling. Sex beyond your kinkiest dreams.” “What… what would change?” “Your hair, for one. All you need to do right now is wish it, and your hair will become long, blonde, luxurious, and sexy as fuck.” “I just… want it?” “Yes.” Suddenly, something miraculous happened, Liz’s hair immediately grew out in plates. Now blond, it grew inches in seconds, ending up at her waistline. There was a curly bounce to it and, for the first time in a long time, Liz started thinking of herself as sexy. “Not bad.” “What are you?” asked Liz. “Some kind of witch?” “Not a witch, a biochemist. One of the best to ever live. But this? This is my greatest achievement. Now, all these clothes are not going to fit you with those little tits. You need a lot bigger. Say a D-cup.” “I could just, wish it?” “And a curvier ass, curvier in general while you’re at it. You’ll feel so sexy, it will be wonderful.” “I… I guess. Yeah. Yeah!” She felt the change beginning. She opened the blanket so she could see. Her breasts were growing, right before her eyes! She could feel the changes in her ass and waistline too. She dropped the blanket, standing naked, taking in her new body. “Looking good Lizzie.” “Liz,” she replied. “What else?” “Maybe a permanent tan? Plus, perfect skin? It sounds sexy, doesn’t it?” “Yeah. Yeah!” The tone of her skin changed to a rich, deep brown, almost bronzed. She felt every little freckle and blemish smooth into perfection.
“I approve, Lizzie,” said Gwendolyn, with a beaming smile. “Now let’s get you into some latex.” “Ok…” The outfit Gwendolyn pulled from its hanger was clearly meant for sex. The top left the breasts exposed, pushed out in fact. The ass cheeks were cut out, and so was the crotch. Lizzie loved it. Gwendolyn passed it to her and, as she did, their hands brushed. The electric thrill that shot up Lizzie’s hands meant more than any corporate takeover, more than any dividend and more than the opinions of any shareholders. She put the outfit on with ease. It fit her new body perfectly. Once again, she was overwhelmed by how sexy she felt. “Now Lizzie, the last change is the big one. It’s your mind.” “What?” “We can’t have you thinking bossy thoughts. We can’t have your old problems cropping up. You need a better mind, a sexier mind, the mind of a bimbo sextoy. A mind of constant pleasure. Of ecstasy. Of arousal, satisfaction, arousal, and satisfaction, forever. Don’t you want that? To be a bubbly, sexy, bimbo? Free of cares and worry. No need to work so hard. No need to think so hard. Just pure, hedonistic, pleasure.” “I’m not sure…” Approaching, Gwendolyn leaned in for a kiss. Lizzie saw it coming, and leaned in. It was amazing. Lizzie had never felt such passion. Never been as turned on in her life. Gwendolyn pulled back and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You just hit the jackpot, Lizzie.”
Lizzie knew it was true. This was what she wanted. She took a deep breath, inhaling the overpowering scent of latex. The scent entered her body, her bloodstream, her brain. And with that, her mind began to melt. All her important tasks were a thing of the past. Her job, boring as she now knew it had been, faded completely from her memory. Her inhibitions disappeared, replaced enitely by the desire to please her new Mistress. Or was she new? How long had Lizzie been here? A week? A year? A lifetime? “How do you feel Lizzie?” She giggled. “Sexy, Mistress.” “And what else?” “Horny, Mistress.” “What do you propose to do about that?” “May I please eat your pussy, Mistress?” “We can start there. We’re in a long night. And the wonderful thing is, I have seven more doses of that formula.” Lizzie’s bimbo mind didn’t understand anything about formulas. She didn’t even remember anything about formulas. Even the word formula was beyond her grasp now. She only knew she must dutifully and eagerly eat out her Mistress. In return she would receive her pleasure. Just like always. She had always been Lizzie.
Tags: Subliminal hypnosis/reprogramming Feminization MF sex Dubcon (dubious consent)
Jane swung hard. The moment the bat slammed against the ball she knew: out of the park. Sure, it was only a local women’s softball game; but Jane took pride in being the best player in the league. As she trotted the bases, trying not to show off, she checked the score board. These three runs made it 14 to 3. The “mercy rule” meant the game ended once one team had a ten run lead. With seven of those fourteen RBI, she was the clear choice for MVP, she almost always was. She genuinely liked the rest of the team, and it was a pleasure to play with them, but she was the most serious athlete of them all. It had been that way all her life. She’d chosen sports over dolls at age three. She competed in triathlons. If she’d been born to a wealthy family, she might well have gone to the Olympics, but it was never in the cards. Her body was built for athletics. Lean, wiry and with tiny, A-cup, breasts, she had never been “girly.” Polite people called her a “tomboy,” behind her back she was often called a “dyke.” That wasn’t true at all. Jane was straight as an arrow, and she’d had a few relationships over her twenty-two years on this Earth. But her work as a welder, and her love of athletics, left her with no time for anything serious.
Jane was saying good bye when the newest member of the team, Carol, approached her. Jane smiled politely, but she was not impressed. Carol was wearing heavy make-up to play a softball game. Her clothing was far more fashionable than functional for playing a game. Jane knew the type, treating this as just a lark, most likely quitting within weeks. “Hi!” Carol began in her bubbly squeak of a voice. “Hi,” Jane replied. “You’re great!” “Thanks.” “No, I really mean it, you are amazing.” Jane found herself softening a little, almost in spite of herself, at least Carol seems to care about the game. Carol continued, “I know I don’t look like much. I really am not into this sort of thing.” “So why did you come.” “My new boyfriend wants me to get out and make new friends. And get in a little better shape.” A boyfriend, wonderful. That was the worst possible motivation. “He even made me a motivational music program.” “Some mix?” “More than that. It has a motivational subliminal track. It’s done wonders for me.” Jane didn’t believe a word of it. Still, she had to try to play nice. “I bet it might even help you,” Carol said. “Me?” “I can’t imagine how good you’d be with even more motivation.” “I’m… I’m fine, thanks.” “Oh come on, I can tell you really don’t believe me, but it’s a great mix anyway. You have nothing to lose, just give it a listen.” “I…” “Here,” said Carol as she reached into her purse and produced a small flash drive. “My boyfriend’s company gives these things away as promos. They’re tiny, memory wise, but they can hold a decent size playlist. Catch.” She lobbed it, underhand and high. Jane caught it with embarrassing ease. “I couldn’t-” Jane began before Carol cut her off. “Humor me. If you don’t like it, erase it and put new music on, just promise me you’ll listen once, ok?” “Sure,” Jane said. “That’s the spirit. See you next game.” The bike ride home was twenty minutes. It wasn’t until after her shower, as she settled in her living room, she thought about the flash drive. It was a bunch of hokum, she was sure of it, yet she had given her word. Popping the flash drive into her laptop, without bothering to look at the playlist, and sent the sound to her sound system’s speakers. She’d paid damn good money for those speakers; no way she was using earbuds. The first song was “All Star,” by Smashmouth, and she was already disappointed. How predictable could you be? The sad part was, it was a decent song, and she didn’t skip past it. She settled on the sofa to listen, but soon felt too jumpy to sit still. Restless, she stood, then spotted her treadmill. That would keep her occupied, without working up a huge sweat after she’d already showered. She got up to a comfortable pace quickly. The mix played on, and she found herself enjoying it. An hour later, she stepped off the treadmill, feeling great. It was a nice mix, and upbeat enough to go with a workout. But Jane didn’t feel any different. It’s not like the mix could change her, but she figured she’d try again tomorrow. Jane’s new, pink, workout shorts and bra felt great as she hit the treadmill and the mix. Sure, they were a little frilly, and the salesperson had billed them as “lingerie” instead of “sportswear,” but it’s not like anyone would see them. And, if they did, didn’t she want to look her best? Weird that the tag said B. Was that her cup size? When Jane reached the treadmill, she was annoyed. Pumping weights had been more annoying than usual, her mascara kept running into her eyes and sweat smeared the rest of her make-up too. She couldn’t even remember why she put up with it this long. The treadmill was so much better, especially with Carol’s hot mix to go with it. Carol missed tennis, the next day, as she went shopping for new work out shoes. The ones she picked out were nice, especially the three-inch heels, though it took a little while to adjust on the treadmill. Things needed to be broken in, after all. She kept her appointment with Ben, her personal trainer, the next day. He acted a bit… odd. He kept saying she looked “different” and “better,” than before. That didn’t make any sense. She was still the same as before, just more motivated thanks to Carol’s awesome mix.
He had her do way more push-ups than usual. Said something about “you’ll need these muscles a lot more now,” and offered to come by her home for an extra session later that week. He’d always been so nice. She wondered why she’d never invited him over before. Jane had to miss work the next day. She was working out so much none of her shirts fit anymore. Her D-cups needed a lot of support, after all, and she figured a whole new wardrobe was in order. She broke out the credit card and headed to a shop she’d never tried. It was supposedly in a bad part of town, but who believed that stuff? The first thing the salesman asked her was “Street? Or high class?” and she, instinctively, knew to say “Street.” She was so proud of her new outfit; she wore the smallest of it as she walked the treadmill, listening to Carol’s divine mix. The weekend had arrived. After her first three hours on the treadmill, the mix playing on an eternal loop, Ben showed up for her free extra session. He looked shocked when he saw her, saying something about them being even bigger, but she was paying more attention to his toned, rock-hard, muscles than anything he was saying. They started with jumping jacks, her tits nearly busting out of her nippleless training bra. Then more push-ups. He watched, more intently than he ever had before. Jane knew she must really be doing well, for him to take such a personal interest. As she finished another push-up, which was so easy since her boobies nearly reached the floor anyway, he nervously asked her: “Would you like a rub down?” She nodded, batted her eyes, and pointed to her bedroom. After all, that would be so much more comfortable. She did take one moment to switch the music to the bedroom speakers. It was soooooooo good, after all. As his warm, firm hands glided over her, freshly moisturized, skin she wondered why he hadn’t done this before. Or why she hadn’t asked. It felt like her muscles were melting under his expert touch. “Jane,” he said after what seemed like hours, “If you want what I think you want, you have to fire me first. I can’t be your trainer and…” he trailed off. “Okey dokey, mister strong guy, you’re fired,” she giggled. “Oh thank God! You’re so hot now Jane, I don’t know how; I just know I want to fuck you so bad.” “How about you fuck me good, instead?” He didn’t need any more convincing. He started by tearing off what little clothing she was wearing, then threw off his shorts and shirt in the blink of an eye. Jane turned to get a look at the part of him she now cared about most. She was not disappointed. Not only was his cock a good eight inches, it was thick and cut, just the way she’d dreamed. “Mmm stud,” she said, all but drooling, “Janie needs cock.” She reached up to take his meat in her hand. It was already rock hard, but it twitched when she made contact. She could already feel his lust, his need, and she felt so special knowing she could be the one to fulfil it. She slid her fingers gently up the shaft to the hair surrounding the base. He let out his first whimper of delight and she vowed there would be many more. She knelt on the bed before him and slid his cock into her mouth. She took it deep the very first time, taking the whole thing past her mouth and down her throat, just like she’d always loved to do. Then she pulled back fast, her lips vacuumed to his cock the whole way. She wasn’t subtle, slurping right back down again, then hitting a fast rhythm as she sucked up and down his throbbing cock at high speed. “Oh Janie,” Ben moaned, using her new name correctly on the first try. “You’re going to make me cum. Do you want it?” She nodded as eagerly as she could with a cock deep down her throat. Her eyes though, really showed how much she craved it. “Oh Janie, oh, oh, here it comes… here… I… cum!” She made sure to wrap her lips around the head to suck eagerly at his spurting cum. She had always loved the taste of cum, but now she knew she loved it more than anything. “That was… that… that…” Ben could barely speak. But Janie wasn’t done with him yet. She pulled him to the bed; he offered no resistance. As he moved his head to the pillow, she straddled him. “I don’t know if I can-“ “Get hard for me baby,” she whispered. He did. At last, she saw why those push-ups were so important. She carefully positioned her cunt over his already revived hard on, and lowered just enough to take the tip inside her. “Mmm… Janie likes Ben’s cock. Is Ben going to give it to Janie?” “Oh yeah.” “Really give it to Janie?” “Let’s go.” She lowered herself slowly, her breasts pushing into his chest, his cock sliding ever so slowly into her dripping wet cunt. “Oh Janie,” he gasped, “you are so hot.” “Thanks stud, now let’s get to it.” In perfect push-up position, she began riding his cock like the whore she looked like. Pushing against him, mashing her fun bags into his smooth, built, chest, squeezing herself around him. Her incredible fitness let her fuck on, and on, and on. “I can’t believe this… this is so…” Ben was on cloud nine, almost overloading with pleasure. She could tell he was on the edge again. “Come on stud,” she panted, her cardio just starting to flag, “let go. Fill me up. I know you want to, and I’m on the pill.” “You are?” She nodded wickedly. “Oh Janie! Oh Janie! Oh Janie! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He exploded inside her! She could feel the flood of his semen filling her insides. This had always been the most fulfilling thing in her life. It was what she exercised for, why she kept in shape. To show off her hot body to men so she could seduce them into giving her all the cum she could ever want. Janie called the next morning to quit softball. Her titties were way too big to play that silly game. And there were so many other fun games to play now. She made a point of getting Carol’s phone number before she hung up on her pleading coach. She had to find a way to thank Carol and her boyfriend for the awesome mix. Maybe they’d like a threesome?