REMARRIED IN STYLE
Here's a belated Christmas present for all those who, like me, love a bridal fantasy ... As ever, please think about donating to support this wonderful site, and feel free to email me at astern50@gmail.com astern50@gmail.com with any feedback or queries.
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When my wife of 14 years caught me cheating with my beautiful young personal assistant, Nicole, I thought our marriage was over for sure. Sophie didn't speak to me for the best part of a week.
But over the next few days the ice thawed and we began talking again. I made a clean breast of my affair with Nicole and apologised profusely. We cleared the air on other aspects of our relationship that had been troubling each of us. And we made a conscious effort to reinvigorate our sex life, which had become distinctly stale.
The result of all this, amazingly, was that our relationship was not just rebuilt, but made stronger than it had ever been. Sophie, who had always been a little distant, became much more attentive to my needs, to the point where I realised how silly I had been looking for affection elsewhere. She was like a new woman -- and I fell in love with her all over again.
After a couple of months, Sophie took me out to lunch at our favourite restaurant. "Listen David", she said when we had finished our meal, squeezing my hand affectionately and looking into my eyes with an oddly intent expression. "I've been doing some thinking."
She explained that she'd like us to renew our vows, to celebrate the rebirth of our marriage. She had spoken to an old college friend, Marc Xavier, who owned a luxury resort on a Caribbean island, and who I had come to know and like. Marc had agreed to host our "remarriage" at his resort, in just a couple of weekends' time. We would keep it all simple and private, with just Marc there as best man. The ceremony would be followed by a second honeymoon on the island -- if I thought this was all a good idea, of course.
I hugged her and gave my enthusiastic agreement. And so, just a couple of weeks later I found myself on a tropical island, preparing for a second wedding ceremony. As tradition demanded, I wouldn't see Sophie the night before our big day. Marc insisted on taking me out for the evening and brought along two of his nephews, Joel and Michael, to join in the fun. It was a blast. The four of us got on famously and we had a riotous time, although I had far too much to drink.
I was woken the following morning by the insistent sound of the doorbell. Stumbling out of bed, bleary eyed and with the hangover to end all hangovers, I threw on a robe and stumbled to the door of the enormous suite that Marc had generously provided. I was startled to find myself face to face with two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, each wearing a crisp white uniform.
"Hello sir", said one of them, a willowy blonde. "I'm Melissa and this is Nancy." She gestured to the more compact but equally stunning brunette beside her, who was carrying a tray with a champagne bottle. "We're here to help you prepare for the wedding."
I looked down at my watch, realised I wasn't wearing it, and gave them a puzzled stare. "But ... it's still early, I mean, I think ... and the ceremony isn't until late this afternoon."
Melissa gave me a patient smile. "Yes of course sir, but this is a very special service we provide for VIP guests. We can give you an all over body treatment that will relax and pamper you, putting you in the best possible state for your special day. It will be an unforgettable experience, we can assure you. All compliments of Mr Xavier." The answer was obviously scripted, but the blonde gave every impression that she was keen for me to accept.
Her companion put in: "Can we offer you a glass of the finest champagne, while we prepare the treatment?"
Muzzy headed, and not wanting either to offend Marc or to turn away such lovely young women, I nodded uncertainly and opened the door to let them in. "Sure", I said, "hair of the dog -- why not?"
I accepted a glass form Nancy, sipped it and found it far more delicious than I would have expected in my hungover state. Soon enough, I was onto my second glass, while around me the two women busied themselves with preparations. My headache and nausea seemed to quickly evaporate, to be replaced by a kind of warm fog that enveloped me and made everything around a little hazy.
Melissa called me over to the writing desk in the living room, where she said there were some papers I needed to sign. When I asked what they were, she told me they were just the usual kind of legal nonsense -- consent to the treatment, waivers of liability, that kind of thing. My vision was too blurry to make anything out, but she showed me the various places to put my signature.
When I had finished, she tucked the papers away and said: "Okay, let's start with a shower, shall we? Come with me." She led me through into the bathroom. I was just about to say that I did know where the shower was, when I was stopped by an incredible sight. The shower door was open, the water was running, and a naked Nancy was beckoning for me to join her in the spacious stall.
"Wha-" I gasped. "All part of the service, sir", said Melissa smoothly, opening my gown and sliding it off my unresisting shoulders. Dazed, I walked into the stall, where the beautiful brunette began to wash me all over with a sweet-smelling soap. As she worked on my front, I felt a second pair of hands soaping my back and buttocks and looked to round to find that her blonde colleague had joined us. I could hardly object to such treatment, so I relaxed and let them do their work -- as much as I could with such company.
That was the strange thing though. I felt incredibly aroused by their proximity, the way the water cascaded off their toned bodies, the soft touch of their hands ... Yet even when Nancy handled and washed my genitals without the faintest hint of embarrassment, my cock did not harden in response.
The experience grew stranger still when the girls grabbed razors, told me to be still and started to shave the hair from my arms, legs and chest. I tried to dissuade them, but they ignored me, explaining it was all part of the treatment. I should have pressed the point, I knew, but for some inexplicable reason I let them do their work. When their depilatory efforts extended to my armpits and then my crotch, they said that it wouldn't make sense to be hairy in some places but not others -- and I accepted that too.
The shower seemed to go on for ages, as the two rubbed all manner of creams and oils into my newly smooth skin and gave my hair several courses of shampoo and conditioner. When we finally emerged they towelled me down and dressed me in a skimpy kimono. I vaguely wondered where my robe had gone, though I was more preoccupied by the sensual feel of the silk on my skin, and by the delicate scent of flowers that seemed to exude from every pore on my body.
Nancy smiled as I wonderingly took in the fragrance. "You smell gorgeous now. Your groom is going to be so impressed." She and her partner were also now dressed in kimonos, though I could still see enough of their bodies to be thoroughly distracted. But hang on, had she just said ... ?
"You mean my bride, right?" The brunette smiled. "Yes of course. Now, have a drink of this special juice mix. It has a wonderful collection of vitamins -- and it tastes good too!" I took the proffered glass and drained it in three gulps. It was as delicious as advertised. It seemed to fill me with warmth, although the fog around me had also thickened appreciably.
"Here", said Melissa, "come and sit down in front of the dressing table, while we do your hair. You may want to have a little snooze while we work our magic." I did as I was bidden. They had brought in a special chair, with a convenient head rest. The minute I sat myself in it and leaned back, the darkness closed in on me and I fell fast asleep.
I woke some time later, with pangs of pain in my abdomen. "It -- it hurts", I complained sleepily. "That's okay sweetie", said Nancy soothingly, "it's just the purgative we've given you. You head to the toilet and you'll feel much better, I promise." She escorted me to the bathroom and I spent the next ten minutes voiding my bowels.
When I had finished, Nancy led me back into the shower. She had attached some kind of hose to the taps and used it to send a jet of warm water into my rear passage. I tried to object when she actually inserted the tube into me, but she told me that this was the perfect way to be cleaned right out -- and I had to admit, it did feel kind of nice.
When she had finished, she had me bend over and I felt her insert some kind of object. It took a while to go in, as my anal passage had to stretch and expand to accommodate the intruder. I was scared at first, but she reassured me that it was just to prevent leakages and that I would soon get used to it. As she promised, the uncomfortable feeling slowly passed, and the comforter (as she called it) seemed to fill me with an odd warmth.
"Here, step into these", said Melissa, holding out a pair of white silk ... boxers? "They're called boyshorts", she said, answering my unspoken question. "They'll feel ever so nice, try them!" I took them and put them on. "They're very lacy", I said doubtfully, but did as I was told.
The fabric inside seemed a little odd, and there was a slit in the bottom rather than the front. But Melissa showed me how to tuck my flaccid penis into a little pouch. She then went behind me and used a pair of drawstrings to pull the organ back between my legs, fastening it firmly in place. "There", she said in a satisfied tone, "nice and smooth, no nasty bumps!"
I couldn't see why that mattered, but I had more important things to worry about when I resumed my seat at the dressing table. "What -- what have you done to my hair?" I asked weakly. "It's called a page boy cut", replied Nancy. "It's very fashionable, you know."
"Um, sure", I said weakly, "but ... but ... it's blonde!"
"Well of course", she replied, "the new colour will be so much better with your complexion than the one you started with, you just wait and see. Now sit still while I put your foundation on." She unscrewed a jar and started smearing a liberal helping of cream over my cheeks and neck.
"So what's that for?" I asked. She snorted. "Don't be silly, dear, you've got to have foundation to provide a base for the rest of the makeup."
"M-makeup?"
"That's right. You do want to look beautiful, don't you?"
Did I? It seemed to me that I shouldn't want that, but in my confused state I couldn't quite work out why. Oh well, the two stylists seemed to know what they were doing, so I opted to remain silent and let them get on with the treatment.
"Good boy", murmured Nancy approvingly -- or at least I thought that's what she must have said. "Okay honey", she continued, "perhaps you might want to take another nap while I do this next bit. I'm sure you're feeling sleepy again." It was funny, but as soon as she said this I felt my eyes grow heavy and I slipped into a doze.
"Wow, look at the time", Melissa was saying as I struggled to resurface from my slumber. "Come on Monique, it's time we got you dressed."
I blinked and came, not fully awake -- I still felt strangely distanced from my surrounds -- but enough to be aware that the blonde beauty was extending an arm to me. She had changed into a simple but beautiful lilac dress. She was smiling at me encouragingly. "Okay", I said slowly, as I allowed her to pull me to my feet, "but who's Monique?"
"Why you are, silly!" said Nancy from beside me. She too was resplendent in lilac. "You must be very confused if you can't remember your name, sweetie."
"Monique?" I said uncertainly. That wasn't my name, was it? Surely it was ... it was ... But the name I was trying to recall seemed to slip away from my grasp. "That's right, Monique", said Melissa encouragingly. "And you're getting ... ?"
"Married", I mumbled. The blonde clapped her hands. "Good girl -- you remembered! So now you have to put on your ..."
I wasn't sure what she meant for a minute, but then it somehow came to me. "My ... wedding dress?" I ventured. "Of course", said Nancy. "But first we need to get the rest of your underwear on!"
This turned out to be a white corset, and a pair of sheer white stockings attached to it by suspenders. As Nancy showed me how to roll these up and then pull them up on, I noticed that my toenails had been painted a light shade of pink, with a sparkly finish. A glance at my hands revealed that my fingernails had received the same treatment. I stared at them for a moment, then shrugged and went back to fumbling with the fasteners on the suspenders.
The corset had padded bra cups at the top and cords at the back that, when pulled taut, cinched my waist, narrowing it considerably. "Can you still breathe okay Monique?" asked Melissa from behind me.
I nodded -- it was tight, but bearable. I looked down to see Nancy smoothing down my stockings. "There -- don't they feel lovely?" she asked. "Oh yes", I said, delighting in the feel of the fabric against my shaven legs and shivering as the brunette gently stroked my thigh.
"Great", she said, straightening up, "I'll get the dress. Tell you what, you close your eyes, we'll help you into it, then we can surprise you with the final look, okay?"
I did as I was told and waited patiently as the garment was brought to me and I was instructed to carefully step into it, then slip my arms into what felt like a very wispy pair of sleeves. The dress was zipped up, fitting snugly and coming right up to my throat. Something was pinned to the back of my head. Then I had to lift up each of my feet in turn, as they were guided into narrow shoes. They felt distinctly odd, with my heels perched well above the toes and my calves drawn taut to take the strain.
I was led across the room, moving slowly not just as I adjusted to the unfamiliar footwear, but because the tightness of the skirt hobbled my legs. When I opened my eyes, I was baffled by what I saw. An attractive woman I'd never seen before was staring at me, her short blonde hair framing an exquisitely made up face in which bold turquoise eyeshadow vied for attention with luscious pink lips.
"Who's that?" I asked. But as the woman's lips moved in time with my own, I flung my head round to find Nancy and Melissa grinning at me. "Say hello to Monique", said the latter softly, inclining her head to the mirror.
I looked back at what, against all reason, I had to concede was my reflection. It was only then that I took in the white wedding dress. The upper half was an intricate web of satin and lace, except for the gauzy sleeves. The embroidered skirt fell straight to the ground, where it spread out to form what almost seemed a flowing pedestal. The bridal outfit was topped off by a delicate veil that fell to the ground behind me.
"Wow", I said reverently, "she's ...* beautiful*".
"No", corrected Nancy gently, "you're beautiful". She gave me a peck on the cheek and then, suddenly all business again, looked at her watch and noted that there was still time for me to practise walking. That turned out to be a good suggestion, especially given the awkward heels. But after some careful instruction from the girls, and some help in lifting up my train, I gradually got better.
It was getting time to go when I realised to my dismay that I needed to pee. This was hardly surprising, given that I had been sipping the special juice throughout the day -- but I had no idea how I could go to the toilet in my elaborate outfit. Would I have to take it all off?
"Nope", said Nancy, "we've got you covered. Hang on." She went to fetch a strange tube with an elastic nozzle, attached to a bottle. "Just stand still honey", she instructed and knelt down. She had Melissa hold up the back of my dress, then reached through the slit in the bottom of my boyshorts to find my trapped penis. Working carefully so as not to hurt me, she manoeuvred the nozzle into place until it had closed over the head of my member.
"Okay Monique, no need to be shy, just go ahead and relieve yourself." I should have felt humiliated, I knew, but somehow it seemed more important not to spoil the perfect look the girls had given me.
Once I had finished, and the bottle had been taken away, it was time to gather our bouquets and make our way to the ceremony. But there was a pause first as a photographer came in to take several shots of me with what I now understood to be my bridesmaids. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew there was something wrong with all this, but all I could do was to smile for the camera. I didn't want to disappoint Melissa and Nancy, after all.
As we slowly walked through the lobby of the resort, past the bar that faced out to the sun-kissed beach, I heard exclamations of delight and approval. Quite a few people applauded -- and many used their phones to capture the moment. Finally, we reached the private chapel where, right on cue, the Bridal Chorus sounded as I was led down the aisle.
The two figures in the black suits standing at the front watched me approach and smiled their approval. "You look beautiful, Monique", said Sophie softly. "You do indeed", added Marc. I blushed and took my place beside my wife.
The ceremony seemed to go like a blur, and so too did the reception, at which our small party enjoyed more champagne and the most delicious finger food on a private beach adjacent to the resort. I positively glowed under the attention I received. But all too swiftly, it seemed, the time had come to repair to the bridal chamber.
As the door closed behind us, the congratulations and well wishes still ringing in our ears, Sophie looked at me steadily for a moment and then quietly instructed me to take off my dress. After I had done so, and carefully hung it away in the wardrobe, I took a glass of sweet wine she had poured for me. Her eyes glittered as she watched me drink, standing there in my underwear.
Taking the glass from me, she inclined her head to the magnificent four-poster bed. I made to slip my shoes off, but she stopped me. "I like you in those", she said softly. Nodding obediently, I got up on the bed, careful not to snag my heels on the soft sheets. She positioned me carefully on hands and knees in the middle, then moved behind me. I sensed her get up on the bed, then there was a series of clicks and I felt something cool against each of my ankles.
I twisted my head to see what was happening, but a curt "Eyes down Monique" dissuaded me. Obediently, I kept my gaze on the bed beneath me, as Sophie walked round to the front to repeat whatever she had done behind. There was a pause, and then I heard a clinking sound as first one wrist and then the other was pulled away from me. This time I did look up, only to see Sophie letting go of the chain that she had just been pulling, and which ran from metal bracelets on my wrists to hooks on each front post of the bed.
Before I could ask what was happening, I felt a similar drag on my ankles, which were restrained in the same way. In short order I was held fast, comfortable enough for now on my knees and forearms, but spreadeagled and effectively unable to move. "What -- what are you doing dear?" I called, still more curious than afraid, but there was no answer. The bedroom door clicked behind me.
As I lay there waiting, the mental fog that had been surrounding me gradually began to lift. Little by little, the feeling stole over me that this was not how the day was supposed to have gone. For a start, why was I in lingerie, and wearing makeup? Why had I worn a dress for the ceremony, and Sophie a suit? Why had everyone been calling me Monique? That wasn't my name, surely? That was ... a girl's name. And I wasn't a girl at all. I was a man. And my real name was ...
"David." I looked up in surprise -- I hadn't heard Sophie enter the room. "Oh, I'm sorry", she said as I looked up, "I mean Monique of course." She had a strange expression on her face, which I couldn't quite read.
"Darling", I said, "why are you calling me that? What's going on? Is this ... some kind of joke?"
That produced a brittle laugh. "What, you think is all a bit of fun?" She paused. "Well, yes, I suppose it is, in a way. We've certainly had a good chortle today, watching you dolled up like that and tottering around on your heels ... Though I must say the girls did a fantastic job. Marc said they were the best, and they really are."
She reached down and patted me on the head. "But the name is not a joke. You are now Monique -- it says so on one of those papers you signed this morning."
"B-b-but", I stammered, "why would I choose that name? I'm not a woman!"
"Oh but you're going to be", said Sophie calmly, "you'll be admitted to a special clinic here on the island tomorrow to start your hormone treatment. And just to let everyone know, you've put out announcements on social media today explaining your decision to transition, and including some lovely photos of yourself in your bridal outfit. I gather it's been quite the sensation. You are, I believe, trending ... Though when I say you put out the announcement, well, I may have hacked your accounts ..."
I was still having trouble processing all this, but I could see the flaw in what she saying. "But you can't do that, because as soon as I get out of here I'm going to tell everyone what you've done! I'm going to say that, that ... you drugged me! That's right, drugged me! And there's no way those papers would be accepted in a court of law. And you can't make me become a woman -- I don't want to!" I rattled the chains attached to my limbs, but they were securely fastened and didn't budge.
Sophie smiled thinly. "You're right of course -- except for the bit about you telling anyone and refusing to have the operation. Because if you don't cooperate, I'm going to the authorities with what I know about the murkier parts of your business. You know, the tax fraud? The drug importation? The payoffs?"
I stared at her aghast. How did she even know about those things? "So, you have a choice. You either go to jail for a very long time -- or you become Monique. Which is it to be?"
She stepped back and looked at me, remorseless and implacable. I could see that she'd been planning this carefully, that she'd thought it all through. And I was in no doubt both that she would her follow through on her threat if need be -- and that she had me over the proverbial barrel.
"But ..." I struggled to find the words I needed. "I'm your husband, for god's sake!"
"My wife", she corrected. "Or you will be soon. Same sex marriage is perfectly legal in most places these days. And of course we have the photos from today to prove it." She smiled. "But listen, you can still live with me as Monique -- you just won't be sharing my bed. Nor running the business. You've signed that over to me -- another one of those papers! But my new partner and I will be perfectly happy for you to work as our personal maid. No wages of course, just board and lodging. But if you're good, we may give you some pocket money ..."
"Your new partner, eh?" I said bitterly. "I bet you and Marc have been cooking this up for months, haven't you?"
"With Marc?" laughed Sophie. "Oh no. He was certainly in on all the fun today ... but he's not my new partner."
"Well if it's not him, who is it then?" I demanded.
"Why, that would be me", said a new voice from behind me. I twisted round and gaped in astonishment. "Nicole? What the fuck are you doing here?"
My former assistant ignored me and walked over to join Sophie. The two embraced and shared a passionate kiss. Only then did the teenager turn her attention to me, inspecting me from the top of my blonde hair to the tips of my high heels. "Meet Monique", said Sophie. Nicole squealed with delight. "Oh my god, she's gorgeous!"
"She is indeed", said my wife, "and she's going to stay that way ... Aren't you Monique?" I was defeated and we both knew it. "Yes Sophie", I muttered. "No, louder please", she said sternly. "And from now on you will refer to either of us as mistress or ma'am. Is that understood?"
I closed my eyes briefly in despair, then opened them. I was fully aware of how precarious my position was -- and I was still tied up. "Yes mistress", I responded.
"I'm glad we're clear on that. Now I'm sure you're wondering how all this happened. Well, it was actually Nicki who told me about your little affair. You'd been stringing her along with promises about leaving me -- but then she found about all the previous young assistants to whom you'd done the exact same thing. Didn't tell me about them, did you?" She glared at me and I looked down in shame.
"So", she continued, we cooked up this little plan to have our revenge on you -- not just for us, but all the other women you've taken for a ride. Thing is though, what we hadn't planned on was falling for one another." Her voice softened and she ruffled the younger woman's hair affectionately. "But I guess we were just thrust together and. ... well, one thing led to another."
"But what are you going to do with me?" I asked, a tremor in my voice. "Right now I mean. What am I doing still dressed like this? Why am I tied up?"
Sophie came over and bent her head down close to me. "Because we're planning on having some more fun. See, what I haven't told you yet is that while we've let the drugs that made you all docile and confused wear off, there are two others still in your system. One's designed to make you very horny indeed, once you get aroused -- and the other will stop you getting any kind of erection."
She straightened up and laughed. "Besides, how could we possibly not take advantage of this fabulous look you've been given? First of all though, we're going to give you a reminder of exactly what you're going to be missing." As she said that, both she and Nicole starting removing their clothes.
"Oh!" said Sophie. "I nearly forgot. Just to add to your enjoyment ..." She went over to her handbag, pulled out what looked like a small remote control and pressed it. The plug in my butt, which I'd long stopped being aware of, started pulsing insistently, sending little bursts of excitement through my prostate.
The next half an hour was pure torture. Sophie and Nicole insisted that I watch them make out right in front me. The sight of my wife exploring my former assistant's supple young body, which I had so lusted after both before and during our affair, was particularly intoxicating. They presented the most erotic of contrasts -- Sophie, large bodied, busty and olive-skinned, next to the pale, skinny frame of a girl twenty years her junior.
The stimulation I received both visually from their efforts, and anally from the vibrator, not to say from whatever drug I'd been given, should have had me rock hard. But my cock remained totally lifeless, so that I was denied any kind of orgasm. Periodically, I could feel cum oozing into my panties. But there was no feeling of release whatsoever, just a constant and agonising sense of unsatisfied arousal.
By the time Sophie brought Nicole to a shattering orgasm, with her tongue buried in the teenager's gaping crack, my constant moaning was accompanying their own, providing a bizarre soundtrack to their lovemaking. Then and only then did they turn their attention back to me.
"Look at this, Nicki", called Sophie, as she inspected me and found the damp patch in my boyshorts. "She's dripping wet! I What a horny little slut!" She slipped her fingers inside my panties and then offered them to me. They were slick with semen. "Go on Monique, taste your own juices."
I shook my head. But a raise of her eyebrows was enough to cow me into submission. Screwing up my face, I licked the salty residue from her fingers, then groaned again as the vibrator -- which seemed to be on some kind of alternating cycle -- once again lifted its intensity.
"Please mistress", I begged. "Please take it out. I ... I can't stand it anymore." I was nearly crying now with the relentless attack of the sex toy on my prostate.
"I think we can do that", said Sophie with a smirk. "Nicki dear, would you do the honours?"
"Of course", I heard her girlfriend say from behind me. "Here you go Monique." I felt a tug on the butt plug, which seemed to resist for a second, but then came free with an audible plop. I gasped in relief -- only to tense up again as I felt something cold and hard push against the entrance of my still gaping hole.
"What the fuck is that?" I cried in alarm. Looking down and between my legs I could see Nicole kneeling on the bed behind me. She had a harness around her waist, from which a very realistic looking and scarily large rubber cock protruded. I couldn't see the tip, but I could feel it prodding my anus.
"No, stop, please", I called in desperation. "You can't ..."
"Oh but we can and we will", said my wife, her face a mask of glee. "If you'll recall, you persuaded each of us to `try it up the rear', as you so charmingly put it. Well, we thought it only fair to return the favour."
"Wait, please ... Oh no, aaaahhhh ..." I felt the dildo push inside me, stretching my already wide rectum, filling me with its girth. The pressure was intense.
"There, doesn't that feel good, Monique? Isn't that what every bride wants on her wedding night -- a nice big cock inside her? But you need more, don't you? You need a good fucking -- and I think you should beg for it." My only response was another groan. Sophie slapped me hard across the face. "What did I say, bitch? Beg for it!"
"I'm sorry Mistress", I said in despair, tears now coursing down my reddened cheeks. "P-please fuck me Nicole, I mean mistress. Fuck me hard ..."
And she did, for what seemed like an age. Until Sophie took over and had a turn, during which I was forced to lick our Nicole's snatch, which she ground into my face. And then they swapped places ... And through all of this I had to suffer the feeling of perpetual yet unconsummated arousal, as the artificial cock plundered my ass.
When they had finally had enough, and force fed me more of my leaking cum, the two women disappeared to shower and change. After a lengthy delay, during which I was left trussed to the bed, they emerged looking fresh and beautiful in casual clothing.
"Wh-where are you going, mistresses? Could you please release me?" I was aching now from being stuck in the one position, my spirit broken by both their treatment and the knowledge that tomorrow I would commence a forced journey to the loss of my identity as a man. My one consolation was the break from that horrible feeling of frustrated orgasm.
Sophie grinned. "We're off to continue the fun. We've lined up a foursome with the lovely Nancy and Melissa. I gather their talents in bed are just as impressive as their ability to feminise reluctant men ... But don't worry, you won't miss out. We'll be making a private recording just for you. You'll be able to watch it while you're waiting for your new breasts to grow ..."
She leant down and kissed me on the lips. "But don't worry dear, we won't be leaving you on your own ... Ah, there's the bell now. Nicki darling, can you let in our guests please?"
"G-guests?" I asked, a horrible suspicion forming in my mind. "Oh yes", answered Sophie gaily, "now you've got a bit of a taste for being fucked, we thought a pretty girl like you deserves an extra level of service ... Ah, boys, good to see you're not wasting any time! We're off now, but I'm sure you'll enjoy our lovely bride. Here's a tip though -- Monique likes it rough, don't you honey?"
Not for the first time that night, I moaned in despair at the sight that met my eyes. Joel and Michael had already shed their clothes, their black bodies glistening. But I had eyes only for the enormous cocks that swung between their legs ...