The Cage

The Cage By The Scallywags

Chapter 1.

With heavy heart, I let my two new employees into the house.

The look upon Julie and Jim's faces, told its own story. They had no idea why I, their senior manager and a VP in the company, would insist on two junior interns coming over to my house after work. Their confusion remained unabated as Alan called downstairs "Is that you Candy?"

But it was my mumbled response that really set them off. "UmmÉ yes DaddyÉ" I stammered.

"Pardon? What's that you say Candy?" he called down again, forcing me to proffer the expected response.

Blushing a furious shade of pink, I swallowed, drew a deep breath before answering much louder, "Yes Daddy, it's Candy with myÉ Candy's new friendsÉ"

Jim let out an obviously embarrassed snigger while Julie just grinned.

Alan wandered down and into the room. "Well hello there" he cheerily greeted my two subordinates. "It's nice to finally meet some of Candy's friends" he smiled as he held out his hand. "I'm Alan."

Julie and Jim took the proffered hand and smiled back at the man who these past eighteen months had made my life such a total misery.

Turning to me with the all too familiar malicious grin upon his face, Alan remarked "Why don't you go upstairs and slip into somethingÉ into something less comfortable?" with a sneer.

Too weak to standup to him, I meekly acquiesced and turned to obediently trot upstairs.

"I've laid out your outfit on our bed!" he called after me, the emphasis on the word `our' making it abundantly clear that all was not as one might have assumed in this house.

Rightfully fearing the worst, I left my two employees in his company and made my way up to my hideously pink decorated room. For though Alan delighted on making it appear we shared a room, we did not, for he enjoyed the space of a large master suite, while I was squeezed into the houses tiny third bedroom.

Little large than an oversized closet, my room barely had space for spectacularly tacky four poster single bed, covered in a frilly `Hello Kitty' duvet and trimmed with an abundance of overly bright pink lace. A vivid pink painted dresser covered with assorted cosmetics was crammed besides the lone window, while a wardrobe and small chest of drawers, all crammed full to brimming with the most girlish, slutty or sissyish clothing you could possibly imagine, completed the small rooms furniture.

Laid out on the pink ruffled Hello Kitty bed was a pink, Malibu fur trimmed baby doll nighty of almost gossamer like transparency, complete with matching panties and fur trimmer, high heeled slipper.

Two fluffy pink scrunchies were on the dresser, along with a separated pale pink lip stick, blusher and matching eye shadow, along with the usual oversized false eyelashes, black mascara and lip-gloss.

Knowing I had no choice, I obediently removed my male work clothes, carefully folding them away, before donning the miniscule panties. I was not surprised to find they were split cotch, so I carefully positioned them so that my pink sheathed chastity with tiny silver bells, hung slightly from between the lace trimmed opening.

I thankfully removed the ace bandage from around my chest, which free from the restrictive bindings I wore to conceal my developing figure, my B-cup breasts jiggled enticingly as I slipped the semitransparent negligee over my head, futilely attempting to tug it down to conceal my shapely buttocks.

Stepping into the four-inch heeled Malibu slippers, I noticed how sharply contrasted my light blue pained toe nails appeared against the slippers vivid pink synthetic fur.

I automatically applied the garish cosmetics Alan had left out for me. I carefully, but with practiced skill, glued the spider like false eyelashes over my original blonde lashes, before applying several coats of glutinous black mascara, the result giving my pale blue eyes a decidedly whorish look.

Several months earlier, my ex-landlord and now Master had overseen the gradual transformation of my dirty blonde hair from a typical mannish style, to shoulder length platinum bob. I now removed the rubber band used to secure it in an unremarkable pony tail, carefully brushing my straight hair until it crackled with static, I blindly used the scrunchies to secure my shoulder length platinum hair into two tightly pulled back and secured pig tails, each jutting girlishly from the sides of my head.

Donning a pair each of typically oversized gold hoop and loudly tinkling chandelier earrings, along with a black velvet choker necklace with a two-inch diameter photo of Alan's penis displayed clearly in the open locket attached to it, I smothered myself in a cloyingly sweet cloud of Opium perfume and braced myself to head back downstairs.

Teetering atop the high heeled slippers, my entrance had the anticipated effect on the stilted conversation Alan has been maintaining with my two juniors. Jim's jaw dropped wide open while, more worryingly, Julie's face took on a slyly malicious grin as she surveyed her senior manager dressed like a teenager's wet dream.

"Ah, there you are Candy" smiled Alan, not missing a beat, "just in Time to serve our guests some tea."

"Yes daddy" I answered before sashaying out, my practically bare ass swaying seductively out to the kitchen.

As I fussed around preparing tea and biscuits for the three people in the room next door, I heard Alan spreading lies and falsehoods about why I was dressed like a slutty bimbo. "Oh yes Andy, or Candy as he now insists I call him, loves to dress up and act like a total he-she slut. I am surprised you haven't seen it at work as she's usually wearing slutty lingerie under her clothes, in fact you'll probably notice even her pants are really women's slacks and her shirts are lady's blouses. I even noticed she's started wearing women's clothes and shoes to work, you just watch!"

Of course, none of this was true, though I had a sickeningly familiar sense of dread that it would very likely be true from here on in!

Alan's voice dropped conspiratorially, though still easily clear to me as I banged around in the small kitchen, "In fact, I do worry Candy is becoming something of a nymphomaniac! She's always grabbing after my cock! And it's not just mine, I can't believe she hasn't made a grab for yours Jim as she's always talking about how hot she is for some BBCÉ you know? Big Black Cock!"

Face burning brilliant red with the shame I was being forced to endure, I sashayed back into the room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Placing them on the table, in the prescribed manner; bending only from my hips, affording everyone an all too generous view of my bikini tan lined posterior, I proceeded to serve each of them tea.

Jim was still aghast at my transformation, his handsome ebony face staring amazed as his boss served him tea while dressed in nothing more than an inadequate little nighty.

As I bent over to serve Jim his tea, Alan joked "Try and keep your cock hungry eyes off Jim's cock Candy. Christ, you're such a slut"

Of course, mention of Jim's groin served to inexorably draw my gaze to that very part of his anatomy, a fact that none of the three missed. While Alan and Julie shared a worryingly knowingly look, Jim's face lit up with apparent delight at the compliment he mistakenly thought I had paid him, and more worryingly, there was a noticeable glint of sexual attraction, if not lust, as he smiled up at me. My face burned hot and crimson with shame and humiliation.

Seeing Jim's interest, Alan pushed the point, "I see she likes you Jim, you'd better watch yourself boy, or young Candy here will be making a grab for your piece real quick!"

Jim just smirked again as he reappraised his one-time superior now standing half naked before him. Starting to thoroughly enjoy herself, Julie decided to chip in with "How'd you feel about that Jim, do you like the idea of Candy here going down on your manhood?"

Any hopes I had of Jim declining the depraved offer, he continued smirking as he stuttered his response, "WellÉ IÉ I thinkÉ I think that couldÉ that would be quite niceÉ Candy does look veryÉ. very attractive after allÉ"

Julia and Alan could not have been happier as they saw their opening.

"Well Candy" chirped Alan, "don't you think you had better thank the nice young gentleman for the lovely compliment he just paid you?"

Seeing, and recognizing the chasm opening before me was one thing, but I was still helpless to prevent myself from plunging head first into it. With my face achieving a few more hundred degrees of burning shame, I obediently smiled at the squirming man before me. "Why thank you JimÉ"

"That's Master Jim to you bitch!" snarled Alan.

"Sorry, thank you Master Jim, that was a very nice thing to say to CandyÉ"

"And?" barked Alan expectantly, "aren't you going to thank him properly?"

"PleaseÉ no DaddyÉ Not with, not with my colleaguesÉ?" I pleaded.

"These aren't your colleagues, you stupid cunt, these are your superiors. Everyone is your superior, you're just a stupid little sissy cunt! When are you going to get through what's left of your cum addled brain? Everyone is superior to you, so therefore, you have to show everyone a shit load of respect Got it cunt?"

Such was Alan's fury, I visibly wilted before his vicious verbal onslaught. "Yes DaddyÉ" I muttered pathetically, causing further smirks upon Julie's pretty face as she watched the complete subjugation of her boss.

Alan's fury was still unabated. "Well, go no then you pathetic cum rag, thank the nice man properly!"

Knowing I had zero choice, I gathered up the laughably short fur trimmed hem of my nighty and gently lowered myself into Jim's lap. Draping one lean arm around his muscular neck, I proceeded to wriggly my shapely bottom into his groin, noticing as I did so the growing mass of his erection beneath me. Placing one manicured hand upon his shoulder, I suppressed my natural revulsion as I coquettishly smiled into his handsome face while breathily saying "Thank you so much for saying such nice things about Candy Master Jim, it is very kind of youÉ"

My pronounced hesitation only brought about another rebuke from Alan as he confirmed my worst fears, "Well go on then you soppy cow, kiss him!"

And so, pausing to unconsciously lick my lips, I lowered my head until my lips formed a tight seal over his, my tongue tentatively snaking its way into the hot warmth of his mouth in the manner Alan had so painstakingly coached me. Jim was not shy in his response, his hands immediately working there way under the hem of my pink baby doll to begin an all to thorough exploration of my unmistakable feminine and bare chest, as his tongue snaked out and pushed mine back into my own mouth.

Aware of Julie moving around, using her phone to capture my physical debasement at the hands Đ literally Đ of our colleague, I couldn't help but let out a low moan at the terrible position I had been backed into, but both Julie and Alan chose to interpret this as something quite different.

"I see what you mean Alan" laughed Julie, "Candy's really getting into it, look at her go!"

All too conscious of her roving camera, I was unable to do anything to stop her recording my debasement as Jim's powerful hands held me steady upon his lap as he pulled painfully upon one nipple. Again, I moaned Đ again in obvious physical discomfort, but to my tormentors, seemingly in passion.

Alan leaned in close to me, whispering "Why don't you really show Jim how grateful you areÉ I am sure you can feel his cock, so you know he wants you, why don't you do something to alleviate the poor man's frustrations?"

Knowing all too well what he meant, as Jim's cock was indeed nigh on lifting me clear of his lap, I could only bag for a reprieve, "Please DaddyÉ please don't make Candy do itÉ please!"

But as always, there was to be no reasoning with Alan. "Do it you worthless cunt, get down on your pretty little knees and suck the good man's cock. That's all you're good for, a pathetic sissy cock sucker, so suck this superior man's cock now, or elseÉ"

I already had too much painful experience of knowing what `or else' could entail, so fighting back a sob, I withdrew my head so that Jim's tongue slipped from beneath my painted lips, and made to slip off his lap.

"And make him think it is the best thing in the world you want to do, convince him that you just love the idea of sucking on his big black cock. Be sure to tell him what a wonderful cock it is and how you have long dreamy of taking it in your mouth and sucking him off until he cums all over your pretty face or down your throat. Make absolutely certain he is no doubt that this is what you want to do, got it cunt?"

I nodded my promise to Alan as I hid my pain, replacing potential tears with a saccharine sweet smile as I dropped between Jim's now open thighs, "Now why don't I show you how much Candy appreciates a big hunking man?" I breathily whispered as I sank to my knees before reaching up between his splayed thighs and slowly lowering his zipper.

Jim licked his lips in anticipation as I slipped ne perfectly manicured hand inside his shorts and eased his already straining cock from the hot confines of his pants.

Licking my scarlet lips in feigned excitement and anticipation, I smiled longingly up at him, ignoring Julie's evilly grinning face and camera focused down upon me, "My, my," I beamed up at him and in turn Julie standing just over his shoulder, "what do we have here? What a wonderful example of real manly cock, do you think it would be OK if Candy were to suck your gorgeous cock Master Jim" I cooed as I had been so painfully taught.

Jim, for his part could only groan and nod his approval and I held his hot manhood in my hand. Such was its size that my admittedly somewhat daintily sized hand could not encompass its girth, and covered about one quarter of its length. This was not going to be easy.

Trying desperately hard to ignore the smiling faces of Alan and his latest accomplice, Jim's lustful stare, and my rapidly disappearing manhood, I slowly lowered my mouth over Jim's chocolate brown glans, my red lips contrasting dramatically with his heated flesh as they slipped down his length. Having been so thoroughly schooled by Alan on his cock, those of his friends and a large number of less animated, though no less realistic looking plastic, rubber and latex surrogates, I fought back the gag reflex as I took his entire span into me, until my nose was buried in his coarse black pubic hair.

I heard Julie gasp at my capacity for swallowing cock as she moved her phone in closer to capture my feat. She soon regained her composure whispering "That's it you faggy cock sucker, show us what a natural cock gobbling sissy faggot you are Candy, show us how you worship a real man's cock!"

Knowing the terrible, terrible deep hole I was being forced to lower myself into by sucking off one member of my work team, while another captured every nuance of my degraded behavior, I did just as she bade and threw myself at the task of working my mouth and throat up and down Jim's massive dick, my lips stretched to nigh on tearing point to permit them to encompass his huge girth.

Up and down, up and down I worked his shaft, from burying my face in his pubes, to practically kissing just the tip of his glans, I enthusiastically set about trying to bring him off so as to end this humiliation all the sooner. Seemingly sensing my plan, Alan issued additional directions, "Take a break from face fucking him Candy, why don't you toss his salad for a bit?"

Unfortunately, I was not as naive as Julie's puzzled face showed her to be, and fighting the revulsion, removed my mouth from over Jim's cock, taking it instead in my warm hand to commence a rhythmic pumping as I lowered my face and self-esteem still lower until my tongue was at his sphincter. Pausing only briefly, I commenced a thorough, seemingly enthusiastic, tonguing of his ass while I masturbated his cock in my small bejeweled hand.

Julie could not believe it, laughing openly at the depths to which I was permitted to subject myself, "He's doing it, he's actually tongue fucking Jim's ass! What a fucking perv'! I can't believe he's doing it, look Jim,Mr. Bourne is actually tonguing your, his employee's, asshole!"

Jim could only grunt in passion as m\My face burnt with the dreadful shame, shame from both the current moment, as I worked my tongue as far up between Jim's muscular buttocks as I could, his testicles resting upon my nose, and the future shame I knew I would be forced to endure at work through Jim's experience and, potentially worse still, Julie capturing every second my shameful performance.

But for now, Alan's brutal training methods meant I was only concerned with doing the best possible job I could in bringing Jim to a humungous orgasm. Leaving his ass, at least for the time being, I showered kisses upon his nut sac, taking one huge testicle within the humid confines of my mouth, to suck upon it as I swirled my tongue, outwardly lovingly, upon it's ebony size. All the while, my daintily manicured hand continuously stoking his shaft, still wet from my saliva, my small palm doing its best to encircle his enormous penis as I worked it from glans to pubic hairs.

After sucking equally attentively upon his other nut, all the while staring into the all-seeing eye of Julie's camera phone, I resumed deep throating his cock as my hands commenced a loving massage of his testicles, even stopping at one point to slip one prettily ringed finger inside his still saliva slicked anus.

Up and down I worked his cock, my pretty platinum tresses covering the worst of my shame as I increased the pace of my ministrations upon Jim's giant manhood.

At last, I sensed a tightening of his testes within my hand and knew the moment of his pending orgasm was upon us. Pausing a second to consider my options, there too, like any trace of my dignity, was taken from me by Alan quietly muttering "On the face Candy."

Realizing it would make for even more humiliating footage, I nevertheless acquiesced and, once more commencing a rhythmic masturbating his shaft I slowly more removed my mouth from atop his length. Within seconds I could sense the unmistakable sensations of his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Girding both my loins and facial expression for what I knew was coming, I carefully aimed his beefy cock straight at my immaculately made up face as I stroked him past the point of no return.

Julie was not slow in comprehending what was about to occur, "No!" she gasped as she moved to the side to prevent her from being caught in the crossfire, as well as ensuring the best possible advantage to capture what was about to happen. Alan joined her with one of the many small professional video cameras he always seemed to have handy for such occasions.

With a muffled gasp and involuntary thrust of his hips, Jim surrendered himself to my ministrations and the rush of orgasm as his cock practically exploded in my still pumping wrist. Jet after jet of hot white jism shot from his glans onto my expectant face. Hours upon hours of Alan's brutal training regimen ensured I kept my eyes open, staring adoringly up at Jim, and a smile upon my face as the first jet of jis' hit me straight in my left eye. Instantly blinded in one eye, I nevertheless, kept the smile fixed and my wrist supple as I stroked stream after stream of super-heated and powered cum from his organ. Rope after rope of thick, gelatinous cum fell upon my face, soon both eyes were gummed completely shit through the combination of semen and mascara, and still I worked his manhood as his seed covered just about every inch of my still cheerful face.

Jim's jism dripped in a glutinous mess from my face and onto the diaphanous material of my nighty, and from there onto my budding breasts, all of it captured in glorious high definition color by Alan and Julie's cameras.

Chapter 2.

The weekend did not improve my mood, for Julie and Alan made perfect partners in crime, both equally determined to oversee my destruction and debasementÉ

For that weekend started by Julie rousing me bright and early, before seeing me dressed in the sexy little pink French maid's dress Alan so loved for me to wear when I went about my domestic duties. Julie saw no reason why such a `gorgeous outfit' should not be worn outside the house, and so it was with much dread that I teetered out the front door after her, all too terribly aware of the spectacle I was providing with the petticoats serving to push up the dresses all too short hem until it was practically at ninety degrees to my white bow fronted stocking clad legs, my white lace trimmed pink panties all too visible for all to see, with my pink plastic chastity equally discernible beneath the figure hugging panties.

The uniform's low-cut bodice did nothing to conceal my matching pushup brassier that provided sufficient support to give me an unmissable feminine bust, while simultaneously falling sufficiently away from my chest when I bent over, so as to provide an unobstructed view of the unambiguously feminine breasts hanging from my chest, perfectly framed by my frothy lace trimmed leopard skin Wonderbra that pushed them up and out in such a wonton manner.

My dazzlingly brilliant white seamed stocking rose from four-inch black patent leather CFM pumps in as shapely a manner as any woman could dream of. A gold slave bracelet encircling my left ankle at the bottom, while six black lace lined leopard skin suspenders appeared from the froth of my petticoats to secure my stocking tops.

My platinum locks had been tricked, teased and hair spray lacquered into a shimmering mass of tight curls and ringlets that perfectly served to frame my whorishly made up face. For my once nondescript masculine face was covered in a wide variety of too heavily applied garishly colored cosmetics to complete the totally slutty look Julie sought.

Our day began in a thrift shop located in one of the less salubrious parts of town, here I was made to trounce around after Julie as she pointed out an awful selection of teen or hooker targeted clothing for me to comment on and then model. I spent hour after hour trying on, and then leaving the sanctuary of the small changing room to model an enormous selection of totally slutty female attire, ranging from too tiny miniskirts, tube tops, Daisy Duke shorts, leggings, stretch pants, transparent blouses, skimpy mini-dresses, towering pumps, and even a less than sanitary selection of skimpy and undoubtedly used female undergarments!

A little over two hours, Julie grinned in delight as I visible winced at the close to three hundred dollars I had been required to fork over for seven large bags, each filled to the brim with a godawful selection of totally slutty and grossly inappropriate Đ especially for a heterosexual male - attire.

I was also extremely concerned by what had been the contents of the six equally large and full bags that Julie had donated to the thrift store, all the while maliciously grinning at my obvious discomfort. Only later would my worst fears that the bags contained a goodly part of my male wardrobe be confirmed.

Under a constant barrage of orders as how I was to move, comport, act and speak Đ all of them directed to make me look and act like a total slut Đ I teetered after Julie to drop the bags, obediently bending in such a manner as to ensure the maximum display of my frothy underthings ensued, in the trunk of her car.

Chapter 3.

Our next stop was a beauty parlor' where one of the ugliest collection of women I'd ever cast my eyes upon delighted in transforming the fucking sissy faggot' through a painful selection of procedures including electrolysis to remove any facial hair, excepting that above my eyes which was reshaped into the obviously unnatural high arch favored by teenage girls of the day. This was further accentuated by judicious use of the tattoo gun to further darken and highlight my new eyebrows. Worse still was the same permanent ink gun was used to line my baby blue eyes in a moderately thick black liner.

While two hags busied themselves on my toes and fingernails, another further changed my perceived gender by mildly increasing the dimensions of my lips with collagen injections. I could not prevent tears from forming in the corners of my freshly tattoo lined eyes as I realized that at least a few of the liberties being taken with my appearance were both permanent and unquestionably feminine.

Worse still was to follow as both my tongue and belly button joined my ears in becoming pierced. Julie insisted on my tongue piercing being located in the spot most likely to induce a pathetic sounding lisp in my speech.

With these liberties completed, I was permitted an hour of relative peace when I was squeezed into a too brief bikini for an intense session under the parlors single tanning bed. I did not know that this type of sun tanning bed had long since been outlawed due to an above acceptable reporting of subsequent skin cancer issues, all I know is that after just one hour under the bright lights I sported an unmissable thong bikini tan line on my chest, hips and ass. The white skin of my natural skin contrasted so dazzlingly with my new tan, worse still was the playboy bunny logo that Julie had affixed above my right nipple, it now glowed bright white against the golden tan of the surrounding flash.

When at last I was permitted to once more get dressed in the hideous manifestation of a school boy's fetish dream French Maid's costume, I was extremely grateful to be permitted back outside on the street to teeter atop my towering heels back to the relative sanctuary of Julie's car.

Chapter 4.

The next works day was, of course, intolerable. As expected, Alan began transforming my work attire to one of a decidedly androgynous bent, at best. For underneath my traditional office attire of khaki pants and white oxford shirt, I wore some very pretty lingerie, from pastel pink body shaper, that served to trim parts of my anatomy, while lifting and shaping others in an unpleasantly evident feminine form. Worse of all were my flowering breasts, for the body shaper not only served to lift and define my small breasts, but the straps were fairly easy to discern under my shirts cotton fabric.

The pants I wore, though definitely male, were at least one size too small and served to accent my mushrooming buttocks and hips, plus were unpleasantly tight around my hard-plastic encased genitalia, the little golden bells just about discernible, both visually and audibly if someone was attentive enough.

My shoes were another horror story, comprising of black patent leather Mary Janes with a conservative, but never the less, unquestionably womanly one-inch heel. Their girlish nature further highlighted by the fact that I wore tan stockings, clipped to the loathsome body shaper, in place of my usual socks. A fine gold filigree bracelet hung loosely, visible below the hem of my pants leg, around my right ankle.

As if this wasn't liberty enough, Alan had also insisted I wear a light dose of Opium perfume, the unmistakable feminine aroma further serving to cloud my already questionable judgement, such was the degree of distraction I experienced through my androgynous appearance.

Of course, I thought I was having a pretty awful day even before Julie got involved. Walking unannounced into my office, ignoring the startled looks of my secretary and gate keeper Peg, Julie shut the door behind her demanding, "OK faggot, let's see you in your pretty's, strip bitch!"

My attempts to reason with her, explaining that this was the work place and, as her superior, I could not be expected to just drop everything whenever she demanded, met with the frostiest of stares and her demands "You are superior to no one Candy, I thought that would be abundantly clear from all the video footage you know I have of you dressed in your pretty little pink nighty while sucking on a big black cock, or do I need share those photos and videos with a few of our colleagues, perhaps Mr. Bailey would like to see what the `fine upstanding, Christian man he puts his faith in to run his company is really like!"

Of course, I had no choice, I couldn't even negotiate to get her to lock my office door, insisting instead that `I get a hurry on if I didn't want someone coming in mid-strip!'

And so I found myself `bumping and grinding' to imaginary music as I did my level best to perform a sexy striptease for my blackmailing intern.

Once reduced to wearing no more than my sexy undergarments and a light sheen of perspiration, Julie had me apply a vivid red lipstick before eating her out upon my office desk, pulling painfully on my long blonde tresses to work my face still deeper into her scented pussy. For several minutes she rode my face hard until she came with a loud orgasm that I was sure must have been clearly audible outside of my office.

Then casting me aside in an undignified heap on the floor, she pulled her panties up and her skirt down, and exited the room with a casual `Thanks Mr. Bourne, you really are as sweet as Candy! Oh, and Mr. Bailey called and said he would like to see you in his office at 10:00!"

10:00? Holy shit, it was already 9:55 and I was in no fit state to meet the boss! I scrambled to get dressed as quickly as I could. Pulling on my too tight pants, I managed to work them over my expanded hips and looked for my shoes. It was then I realized Julie had swapped our shoes, replacing my modest black Mary Janes with her three-inch heeled green satin dress heels! What the fuck was I supposed to do? A quick glance at my phone told me I had less than a minute to get to Mr. Bailey's office, I had to choose either going barefoot in my tan stockings, my red toe nails and gold toe ring clearly visible through the nude stocking's toes, or wear Julie's heels. I decided to take the latter of the two evils and forced my feet into what I quickly realized were her too small heels.

Grabbing my brief case, I fair flew from my office, down the corridor and into Mr. Bailey's office.

I was somewhat surprised to find Mr. Bailey, along with several of my fellow VP's sitting around young Julie as she regaled them with some witty story or another.

"Ah, Bourne" growled Bailey, "we were just enjoying my niece, Julie's story aboutÉ" he stopped as he took in my condition.

"Oh Mr. Bourne" asked Julie oh so sweetly, "what has happened to your face?"

My face? Oh fuck! I had been so worried about getting dressed and finding my shoes, I had completely forgotten to remove any traces of either the red lipstick the bitch had me wear, or the ravages my having to eat her out for over half an hour had done to me.

Smiling an evil smile I was becoming all too familiar with, the cow continued, "And what is with your shoes? Aren't theyÉ well aren't those women's shoes?!

What could I do? There I was, dressed in decidedly androgynous clothing, lipstick and cum smeared all over my mildly feminized face, wearing undeniably female shoes, and to top it all off, I had just learned that the architect of my downfall was none other than the boss's niece!

I did the only thing my panic fuddled brain could think to do. I turned an impressive shade of pink, quickly spun upon my dainty high heels and fled.

CHAPTER 5.

If Julie was a problem, then matters were considerably worse with Jim. For where Julie was a vindictive little cunt hell bent on destroying my career and reputation, Jim was seemingly infatuated with me. I had not realized it at the time, but apparently this great hunk of a man had been debilitating shy, and as such had never enjoyed any success with the ladies, he was still a virgin and my oral services had been his first ever sexual contact of any kind! Such was his shyness, that any sort of sexual attention, even that from a fellow male, even one so obviously being blackmailed into feigning interest in him, was welcome, very welcome. And so, I unwittingly became the object of Jim's amorous desires and obsession.

Worse, he had seen how easily I was cowed into submission, and made an enormous effort to overcome his natural reticence and shyness to lay down the law to me.

This first came to my notice when on Tuesday lunchtime he entered my office as I sat trying to get caught up on a large stack or reports I had promised Mr. Bailey I'd have ready for him that evening.

I was so engrossed in the far from engaging reports, that I failed to notice my office door open and closing, and it was only when I heard the lock `snick' closed that looked up in surprise.

"Hello Candy" he whispered, a wide grin spread across his face.

"OhÉ um" I blustered, visibly shaken by his unexpected appearance, "Um, hello JimÉ"

"I think that is Master Jim to you Candy bitch!" he countered, confirming my worst fears as to the reason for his unscheduled visit to my office.

I smiled at his joke, only to realize he was deadly serious. Gone was the shy intern who three days prior wouldn't have said `boo' to a goose, in his place stood an obviously nervous, but no less determined 6' 4" large black man.

"Jim" I started, but he cut me off rudely.

"Didn't you listen bitch?! I said it's `Master Jim' to you. Do I make myself clear?"

Any real man, especially one who was his work place superior, would have put the upstart firmly in his place, but I had never been a confident man, and the threat of Alan's blackmail was too greater threat for me to stand up to. So, ashen faced, I respectfully dropped into my well-practiced girly lisp and responded, "Sorry Master Jim, how may Candy help you?"

Seeing his gambit had worked, his confidence returned in spades, "That's better cunt, now why don't you get down on all fours, like the pathetic little bitch you are, and crawl over here!"

Loathing myself for the pathetic coward I so obviously was, I obediently pushed back from my desk, dropped on to my hands and knees, before I crawled over to where he now sat at my conference table, his muscular thighs splayed wide. I stopped a couple feet from him, looking up into his handsome features.

"I think you can do better than that bitch, why don't you come closer and get yourself reacquainted with my cock?"

Fighting back a sob of utter despair, I once again did his bidding, and crawled the last few feet until I was squatting upon my haunches and reaching for his groin with one shaking hand.

"There's a good gurl" he cooed, purposefully over-enunciating the word `girl' to somehow give it an even more demeaning sound, "There's a good little Candy sissy, why don't you use your oh so talented mouth to make love to Master Jim's big black, beautiful cock, and while you're at it, why don't you tell me what a wonderful cock it is?!"

And so, I did, right there in my office, while close to a hundred subordinates went about their daily duties, their boss set about sucking the cock of a man ten years and many pay scales his junior, but in oh so many ways, his superior.

CHAPTER 6.

And so the week progressed. Each day my clothing grew slightly more noticeably 'effeminate', until, by Friday, I was wearing women's slacks; the lack of pockets, their cut and color, plus the rear zipper serving to make their intended gender undeniable. Plus, the fit was tight, very tight, and the fabric tended to be stretchy, the material tightly clinging to my hormone reshaped ass and hips, and making it nigh on impossible to miss the padlock and plastic outline of my permanent chastity device that so tightly imprisoned my cock.

The `tops' I was made to wear were even worse, for their fabric and color were once again unmistakably feminine, comprising of pastel pink, yellow chiffon, or even animal prints, usually delicately lace edged, but always translucent enough to ensure my garishly colored push-up brassiere was easily seen. This particular Friday, I suffered the additional ignominy of my blouse, for that is what it unmistakably was, being open at the font, ensuring it fell open every time I leaned over, affording anyone close by an unobstructed view of my perky little titties (as Alan insisted I refer to them) nestling in their prettily lace trimmed push-up cups.

And following Mondays debacle, there could be no confusing the intended gender of the shoes I now wore each day. This Friday, I sported an absolutely awful pair of fairly minimal, though still toweringly heeled, well three-inch heeled, pink sandals. They comprised of metallic pink colored leather with a thin strap across the toes and another encircling my ankle Đ and that was it! Pretty much my whole foot was left exposed under the slightly flared hem of my pants, not such a terrible fact in and of itself, were it not for the fact my toe nails were painted in a dreadful assortment of colors, ranging from white with orange and light blue dots, to blue with orange dots or just `plain' orange or blue!

The effect was not something you could possibly miss, especially not peeking out from my metallic purple sandals and with my little gold bracelet encircling one ankle and two highly visible toe rings.

To put it bluntly, I looked the total sissy that Alan, Julia and Jim were so heel bent on making me.

CHAPTER 7.

Yet more humiliation was heaped upon me in the fact that Julie had delighted in letting it slip' to my team and colleagues that I had the hots' for Jim, a charade he was only too happy to play along with. They both delighted in having me play the lovelorn sissy, pursing her man at every opportunity. The fact was Julie had come up with the cunning plan of giving Jim my wallet, my keys, including the key to the executive bath room and my house and car, along with assorted items quite essential for me to perform my job, so whenever I wanted to use my wallet, go to the bathroom, or drive any place, I had to trot along to find Jim, a fact made more embarrassing by his penchant for secretly evading me, requiring me to ask assorted colleagues if they had seen him. Their knowing smiles and unsubtle grins as they incorrectly surmised I was some lovelorn little sissy, hell-bent on pursuing the object of her adoration, were more humiliating than my having to find someone to return my personal property.

They also decided it would be best if I stopped driving, allegedly due to my unfamiliarity with the now three to four-inch-high-heels I was required to wear daily. It served to make me yet more dependent on Jim, having to stand around outside the office for him to pull up, hop out of the car, and then hold the door open for me to climb in!

Worse, Julia delighted in dictating one or two days a week when Jim would be `unavailable' to collect and deposit me from Alan's home, on these days I was forced to endure the horror that is public transport in a large city.

Julie and Alan always made certain I wore the most feminine and slutty attire on these days. Typically, I would wear either skin tight pants and crop tops, or short and skimpy dresses that had hems seemingly designed to fly up at the most inopportune of times, usually when climbing stairs or on or off some crowded bus.

It took take three separate busses to get from Alan's house to work, and of course, it goes without saying, that all three were always jammed to the gunnels with passengers on both the outward and homeward bound legs. There was virtually never a seat available to me, requiring that I stand, jammed up against the other predominantly male, passengers. I think I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of journeys where I was not in some way molested, and it was not at all unusual for me to alight the bus with some creep's semen running down my skirt or pant clad ample ass while all too frequently my titties would be quite sore from the mauling they'd endured.

Chapter 8.

Alan recognized how I loathed my mushrooming breasts, and so of course set about maximizing my shame. He achieved this by making me take a bus into town to visit a doctor friend of his, Dr. Swann. Here the good doctor set about mildly puffing out my lips through a series of collagen injections. Once satisfied that I now bore the unmistakable `trout pout' of the true cock sucker, he turned his attention to my nipples.

After taking his time to non-too subtly feel up my growing tits, he proceeded to inject them with quite large doses of collagen too. The result was nipples that stood proud of my engorged breasts by close to a full inch.

I then had to pay the doctor for his services by letting him `christen my lips', a task I was becoming unfortunately quite skilled at as o dropped to my knees and proceeded to suck him off.

After obediently replacing his deflating cock back inside the confines of his greasy pants, I submissively applied a thick coat of garish pink lipstick, before heading out to the next address on my list.

This was the familiar tattoo emporium besides the topless bar off Main Street. Here I handed Alan's note to Eric, the dingy tattoo parlors proprietor. Once again, I obediently removed my top and hot pink brassier to permit a strange man access to my most loathed, but also most popular of charms. For the next hour and a half, Eric set about enlarging the diameter of areola with ink that perfectly matched my natural skin tone. The result was a perky pair of nipples surrounded by seemingly natural female areolas atop my still growing breasts. Only the thickest of full cup bras and seaters would completely mask their presence, such was their prominence.

Alan just loved to have me lie in his lap while he fondled my breasts, delighting in how perkily erect he could get them as he pulled upon or painfully pinched them. He took great delight in sucking and nibbling on my sensitive buds, absolutely relishing how much I so obliviously loathed having another man suckle upon my once masculine, but now so obviously feminine nipples. He would so enjoy tormenting me by saying things like "Oh look Candy, look how erect your sexy nipples get when a man sucks upon them! Your body isn't lying, look how hard they are, you obviously enjoy it, I don't know why you pretend to be a man, you're so obviously a pretty little sissy who lusts after men, don't try to deny it, it is so obvious to everyone but you. You are a cock sucking little sissy faggot, go on admit it, tell me what you are?"

Of course, I would have no choice but to do exactly as he told me, so while I lay beside him, his lips locked around my tender nipples, I would obediently remark "Oh, OK Daddy, you are right, Candy really loves it when you suck upon my little titties. Candy is really a sissy who lusts after a real man to show Candy what it is like to be a real womanÉ thank you DaddyÉ"

The worst part was my newly enlarged nipples became conditioned to becoming noticeably engorged when stimulated. Both Alan and Julie would take great delight in fondling them to their maximum erectness before I entered a meeting or other public environment, savoring my humiliation as my nipples poked prominent tent like bumps in the font of whatever clingy top they'd insisted I wear that day.

Alan later used my shame to add yet further to my discomfort by making me go braless while coating the inside of my filmy blouse or top with a fine silicone dust that irritated the heck out of my nipples as they constantly brushed up against the fine abrasive, ensuring they remained at their bulging best all-day long.

CHAPTER 9.

That evening I was told to get ready as we Đ Alan, Julie and myself Đ were headed out for a night on the town.

This, of course, involved me being made-up and dressed up as at total CHAV slut. My tightly plastic sheathed genitals were squeezed into a vibrant red thong bikini bearing the unmistakable scent of thrift shop, as well as some lingering trace of their previous owner's perfume. Unusually, I was not required to wear a push up bra, or any other form of feminine support garment.

My hormone reshaped ass was squeezed into an at least two size too small denim skirt that barely covered my tanned buttocks no matter how I pulled and worried at its frayed hem. My tanned legs were left bare apart from a towering pair of black patent leather open toed pumps, set atop two-inch soles and immense six-inch heels. The sole and underside of shoe and heel were a bright red that further served to amplify the slutty nature of my dress.

But it was my top that was the real star of this horror show. For it was thin white cotton and bare of any adornment, save a simple graphic on the front of a dumpster behind a single three letter word; CUM. But even this hideous message paled into significance when I realized the full horror of going braless! For while I was able to easily conceal my budding C-cup breasts beneath a tightly wrapped athletic bandage at work and barely noticed my titties', as Alan insisted I refer to them when I slept, this was the very first time I had gone outside unfettered' so to speak, and there was no missing my flowering symbols of womanhood beneath the thin cotton of top. For the slightest movement set them swaying and a jiggling, an action that served to send shivers of delight up my spine as my sensitive little nipples stiffened through contact with the smooth cotton, a fact that further added to my shame as they grew noticeably larger and more prominent beneath the tightly clinging cotton.

Alan was delighted by how vampish I looked, my over made-up face still pretty despite the excess of blush, garish eye shadow, mascara covering my large false lashes and scarlet red lips, still puffed from my earlier collagen injections. All perfectly accented my whorish dress, completed with a small lime green clutch purse containing my ID (still obviously in my male name), my iPhone (now sporting a hideous cover comprising of white, pink and yellow beads of assorted sizes with the occasional daisy flower Đ direr still was the fact that my phone's home screen (there was no longer a lock on it) sorted a photo of me sucking Jim's erect cock!), assorted cosmetics matching those I now sported, a large tube of anal lube, breath spray and what must have been over twenty condoms!

"There," he laughed, "I think we're ready for a fun night out on the town, don't you Candy?"

"Yes Daddy" I compliantly answered, though I knew for certain tonight would be anything but fun for me.

"Great, then let's get this `sow' on the road!" he laughed as he slapped my arse hard, setting my breasts to another session of all to obvious jiggling as I jumped in surprise. "Christ Candy, if I'd have known how good your tits look, I'd have had you showing them off months ago! You've got a nice old pair of jugs coming on there bitch, we're gonna have a lot of fun with them fun bags of yours cunt! I want you to make absolutely sure you take every, and I do mean every, opportunity to shake your little titties at all the boys tonight. You got that cunt?"

Face burning its all too familiar shade of pink beneath the thickly applied tan foundation, I once again succumbed to the brutish bully who was ruining my life, "Yes Daddy" I lisped, cursing my new tongue piercing, "Candy will be sure to shake her ass and titties at all the boys"

Julie just sniggered in her usual condescending manner, but then again, who could blame her?

CHAPTER 10.

It pretty much goes without saying that our `evening of fun' comprised of me having to accept an offer of a drink or dance with any man willing to be seen with such an obvious slut at our local meat market of a bar, Billy O's.

Worse, I also had to accept every invitation' to "get some air", "go for a walk" or even just the more basic request for a blow job! So, by the time 2:00 AM finally came around, I had spent a roughly equal amount of time doing one of three things, 1, dancing in a very up close and intimate manner with an assortment of strangers, 2, drinking way too much fancy cocktails that left me decidedly unbalanced atop my towering heels and slurring my already lisping speech. In fact, given I had not had any dinner, I likely would have spent a good part of the evening throwing up from drinking too much strong liquor, but thankfully', the final and third part of my evening had been spent giving blow jobs to a wide variety and large number of strange men outside the club, squatting upon my heels in the darkened alley, or upon my knees behind a car as I sucked upon a seemingly endless variety of cocks until all came down my seemingly willing throat.

It was only this source of protein that had helped prevent me from falling unconscious form the ten or so Long Island Iced Teas, Harvey Wall Bangers, Screwdrivers, Buttery Nipples and other equally strange sounding and potent cocktails I had been kindly' brought all evening. As Julie had instructed, each offer of a drink was met with a sugary sweet smile and the lisped response of Sure thing handsome, why don't you surprise me! If I like the taste of the drink you buy me, maybe I'll like the taste of something else I mightÉ suck uponÉ later" wink, wink, smile seductively, etc.

When at last me made to leave, Alan caustically remarked "Christ Candy, use the damn breath spray we bought you, you smell like how I imagine the floor at a peep show must stink! And look at your top, seems the design is quite appropriate for a cum hungry whore like you!"

Julie laughed spitefully as I looked at where Alan was pointing and noticed the cum and saliva stains down the front of my tightly stretched t-shirt, which so was soaked in bodily fluids as to be almost transparent in places, my definitely girlish breasts quite clearly visible through the wet translucent cotton. She garnered further delight by pointing out how the hem of my little denim skirt had ridden up over my tanned buttocks, providing all and sundry with a shot of my shapely ass cheeks divided by the thin red satin strip of my thong panties.

CHAPTER 11.

I was so exhausted, and my feet were killing me from the unfamiliar height of the heels, and my jaw ached from the amount of time it had been so tightly stretched around some stranger's cock Đ a fact that caused me infinite shame for I was a man Goddamit!

My exhausted sleep was cut short by the sensation that the car was stopping.

"Well here we are cunt, get your sorry ass out and upstairs, your boyfriend is waiting for you!" snarled Alan.

What? My sleep befuddled brain could not comprehend what he was saying.

"It's apartment 214" he growled before opening the rear door to push me bodily from the vehicle, "Get going you dozy cunt!" he said as he put the car in gear and took off, showering me, sat upon the pavement, with a hail of dirt and gravel.

Doing my befuddled best to protect my face from the filth being propelled at it by the rapidly disappearing car, I did my best to work out where the hell I was. Finally realizing that there was nothing to be gained from my sitting sprawled upon the sidewalk, I climbed to my feet, brushing grit from my still damp shirt while doing my best to pull the hem of my too small skirt back down to something approaching a respectable level.

I saw that I was outside a large apartment block. Moving to the entrance, I was not overly surprised to find the front door was locked firmly shut. Now what apartment number had Alan mentioned? 214, was that it.

I located the buzzer and tapped out 2-1-4 with my manicured fingernails Đ unconsciously asking myself `how many foreign cocks had these hands freed from underwear tonight?' doing my best to ignore such depressing thoughts, I was roused from my dreams by a familiar voice from the tinny speaker mounted beside the keypad.

"Yes?" it sleepily inquired.

"Oh, Hi, Hi it's ahÉ it's CandyÉ" I uncertainly responded.

After a pause, the door buzzed to signal I could enter, but enter to where?

I entered a moderately plush foyer and, still teetering uncertainly through the combination of heels and alcohol haze, made my way toward the two elevators at the rear of the entryway. Entering and pressing the `2' button, I tried to collect my thoughts as the elevator rose steadily upwards.

Exiting, I turned left as directed towards apartment number 214. When I got there, it was ajar, so drawing a deep breath, I pushed it fully open and entered the apartment.

"In here" came the familiar voice, so i girded my loins and made my towards what was obviously a bedroom. With a sinking feeling, I knew who I would see as I pushed open the bedroom door, and sure enough, laid out upon pure white sheets, his ebony skin so polished in contrast, lay Jim. Crueler, his obvious erection was poking a sizeable tent in the cool white sheets.

"Hi babe!" he cooed, a smile lighting up his handsome face from ear to ear, "Have you missed me?" before I could answer, he continued with a slightly menacing edge to his voice now, "I think it's time I made you a real woman Candy"

It was to be a very long and unforgettable night.

CHAPTER 12.

The next morning, still dressed in the same slutty attire, I eased my way from Jim's bed, my body sore all over, not least my poor ass which had taken a real pounding at the handsÉ OK, not the hands, but you know, from Jim.

He had been gentle, but I had been an unprepared, inexperienced and, perhaps most importantly Đ at least to me Đ unwilling sexual partner. Yes again though, my pathetic inability to stand up for myself had soon led me to acquiesce to Jim's insistent demands, especially when he mentioned that `Alan had said I would.' For such was my fear of the psychopath I now shared a bed with, I quickly folded and became Jim's seemingly willing sexual partner.

As I said, he had been gentle, letting me dictate my own pace, but when anal sex is so far down your list of `wants' so as to be non-existent, having to apply anal lube to both Jim's cock and my virginal sphincter, then climb atop the rampant but recumbent Jim before having no choice other than to guide his large purple glans to the very door of my ass, before slowly, oh so slowly, lowering my weight and body down upon his seemingly monstrously large cock.

I will not lie it was one of the most painful experiences of my life, made worse by the fact that I was the one doing it. It might have seemed slightly less degrading if Jim had pinned me to the bed beneath me before raping me, but this way, as I am sure Alan had planned somehow, it was as if I were the instigator, and Jim a mere participant. For he just lay there, grinning manically from ear to ear, as my face screwed up into ever more contorted expressions as I slowly lowered by full eight upon his glans, feeling it stretch my ring to almost breaking point, before it was fully in and could ease my body all the way down his considerable, but thankfully well lubricated shaft.

Apparently, my mouth formed a perfect red lipsticked `O' as I eased myself down until my full weight was upon his waist, but then I had to ease myself back up his length, all too aware of every vein in his at least seven inch cock.

Up and down, up and down I worked myself, my hands played open upon his muscular and hairy chest. I could feel my unfettered breasts bouncing and down as I plunged up and down his thick brown shaft. Perspiration gathered on my brow as I did my utmost to bring this wretched affair to its inevitable end.

Jim took a grip upon my hormone widened hips, and assisted me in my efforts of frantically sliding upon his big brown cock. I could even feel my ass cheeks jiggling as they rose, only to slap down upon his strapping thighs once more.

Up and down, up and down, one and on it went. I was perspiring freely now, as was Jim, but still he refused to cum. His large brown hands now encompassed my burgeoning tits as the jiggled up and down with my every lunge upon his tick black cock. He pulled painfully upon my breasts, then clasping me around my slender wait, pulled himself up and until he was sat upright, and then commenced to Đ horror of horrors Đ begin suckling upon my distended nipples. It was a most disquieting, though I must reluctantly also admit, quite sensual act, and I felt myself unconsciously try still harder to bring him to orgasm.

What I was totally unprepared for, was when he looked up, took my blonde coiffured head in is large hands, and drew my face down over his to place my lips over his in an unmistakable sensual kiss.

This is the point where I lost it, something snapped inside of me as I realized I was returning his kiss with just as much passion as h was giving me as he worked his muscular tongue between my recently augmented lips. Hi hands returned to the gentle kneading of my womanly breasts as I continued to work my thighs so as to bounce up and down his amazing cock.

Finally, I somehow sensed him approaching orgasm and cried out in encouragement, "Yes, yes, that' sit baby, give it to me, give Candy your seed, fuck my ass, let me feel your cum inside of me!"

To this day, I have no idea wat made me say such base things, after all, I was a man, a happily heterosexual man. And yet here I was, bouncing up and down upon his erect cock, calling out encouragement, as if to a lover, while he fondled my tits!

But it did the trick, it got Jim so excited there was no coming down from this high. E dropped his hands to my waist, grasping my hips in a powerful grip, then thrust up deeper yet inside of me. Our mouths remained locked together as I felt the first spurt of his wicked hot seed deep inside of me. Jet after jet of semen filled my insides as he continued to force his way as deeply inside of me as was possible. Until, finally, he was spent.

He flopped back onto the damp sheets beneath, pulling me on top of him.

"That was amazing CandyÉ fucking amazing! I don't believe I have ever had a fuck like that, you areÉ well, you are amazing!"

And somehow, I was flattered, incredibly flattered. Here is was, as previously mentioned, a heterosexual man, and yet I had just fucked another man, with my ass, all the while kissing and feeling said man up, and then felt a righteous pride we he told me I was an amazing fuckÉ what was wrong with me?!

CHAPTER 13.

And so, it went on. Each day some new peak of sexual degradation was somehow achieved. My clothing became undeniably female, even deteriorating from what might have once been best described as office sexy' to what could only now be categorized as unmistakably office slut'. My hemline grew over shorter, while tops grew more and more figure hugging and/or low cut, and my heels grew frighteningly tall.

At the same time, the way I moved, spoke and acted around others, continued to suffer similar deprivations. Hour upon hour of painful instruction had me walking like a total slut, all ass and hips swinging with my shoulders pinned fully back so as to better present my developing breasts. Further hours of practice in front of my small dresser had me most skilled in the art of over applying my makeup so I could ladle on an excess of blush, glue on my mascara laden false eyelashes practically in my sleep, or continually reapply my lipstick or lip-gloss throughout the day without a second's thought. But repeated beatings had the desired effect and I was now overly intimate with strangers, constantly brushing my not so small breasts up against them, or touching them in an overly familiar and intimate manner, all the while smiling seductively into their eyes, often while licking my lips in a thinly veiled come on.' More than once I heard people refer to me as that slut'!

The most dispiriting thing was that there was no one, not a single sole, who made even the slightest effort to arrest my slide into sexual subservience. Sure, not everyone approved of my treatment, but the majority seemed to think me a willing accomplice, as if it was me who was encouraging others to so blatantly abuse and humiliate me.

Even the decrepit Mr. Bailey got in on the act when egged on by his malicious niece Julie. I had clung desperately to the hope that Bailey would see what was going on and demand an end to it, even if he blamed me for the all the torrid goings on. But no, Julie had been whispering in his ear, spreading lies and poison about how what a sexy little sissy maid I would be for him. How I would dress up so sexily while volunteering to clean his home and provide him some pretty, feminine company, something he'd been so sadly missing in his life since his wife had died a few years back.

The first I learned of this was when Julie stopped by my office one Thursday evening, "Oh Candy, you have a weekend trip coming up tomorrow, be sure to pack plenty of pretty things, including that darling pink maids outfit, and bring them with you to work tomorrow."

My flustered questions were met with a breezy "Alan knows what you'll be needing, see him." And off she waltzed.

Alan was no more forthcoming, but had me pack my new hot pink Hello Kitty carry-on with an embarrassing assortment of either downright slutty or overly sexy feminine attire, along with the `usual' assortment of garish cosmetics, cheap jewelry and towering high-heels

My work attire was little better, comprising of a too tight bright red corset that served to both pinch my waist to an unnatural taper, while simultaneously pushing my breasts up and out atop a small lace trimmed, but heavily reinforced shelf, leaving them free to wiggle and jiggle with my every move. A copper colored silk blouse, unbuttoned past the point of decency so that it fell open every time my position passed the vertical, was tucked into a figure hugging tan leather pencil skirt that served to force my tan seamed stocking clad legs tightly together, this in turn served to ensure I could only take the smallest of steps atop my black five-inch stiletto heeled patent leather pumps, causing me to swing my ass in an even more exaggerated manner than usual. This, naturally further caused my bosom to sway and jiggle atop its barely covered frilly lace shelf.

Jangling cascade style gold earrings with large, obviously fake, diamonds tinkled noisily as they banged next to the five-inch gold hoops occupying the neighboring piercings in each ear. My choker now featured a two-inch photo on both sides, on one was Alan's erect cock, the other showed Jim's large black cock. As per usual, my wrists were weighed down by more than twenty assorted metal, chain and tastelessly colored plastic bangles on each wrist.

The result was that my every teetering step was a cacophony of loudly jangling trinkets, all serving to draw unwanted attention to my forced sexy flouncing leather clad ass and joggling bosom.

Of course, such a display as I was being forced to provide, just had to be, as Alan delighted in telling me as I headed expectantly towards his car for my customary ride into work, enjoyed by everyone. And so with heavy heart, I headed out to the nearest bus stop for another dreaded experience with public transport.

I made quite the sight as I shimmied by way down the street, pink carry-on in tow, with my left arm stuck through the straps of my hideous pink purse that contained the usual collection of cheap cosmetics, a spare pair of panties, an oversized tube of boldly labelled `Anal Lube', at least eight different styles of condom, two butt plugs and about twenty dollars in loose change Đ necessitating me to fumble around in my over filled purse, the contents falling out and causing much merriment amongst my fellow passengers, as I paid my bus fare in quarters, nickels and dimes.

I then had the dubious pleasure of having to stand, packed like sardines, among my fellow passengers, with at least one pervert enjoying my naturally submissive nature and limited motion through being so tightly pinned by the other passengers to enjoy a quite leisurely exploration of my leather clad bottom. feeling me up.

CHAPTER 14.

When I finally made it to the office, decidedly frayed and frazzled, I was immediately summoned into Mr. Baileys presence. I unconsciously checked my makeup in the compact contained in my hated purse, and after touching up my lipstick, mascara and refreshing my perfume, brushed down my skirt and sashayed my way down the corridor and into his office.

"Ah, there you areÉ um Candy" he stammered, causing me further embarrassment at the use of my feminized name, though I should have grown used to it by now, especially as Alan and Julie had made me apply to have it registered as my official name, for now my driving license and all other official documentation listed me as Candy BJ Runt, though my gender was still officially male.

"I understand you areÉwell, you're to be `serving' me this weekend?"

Face burning pink with the shame of it all, I meekly acquiesced "Yes SirÉ um, I mean yes Mr. BaileyÉ"

"Good" he relaxed a little, "did you pack theÉ um, the things I requested?"

I had no idea what was in my carry-on, but figured Julie and Alan would ensure I had the things I would require to debase myself still further, so answered "Yes, SirÉ" I had to stop referring to everyone as Sir or Ma'am as I had to around Alan and Julie.

But Bailey appeared to enjoy my subservience, "GoodÉ good girl." He smiled. "Now yourÉ your Master, Alan is it?"

As much as I hated to answer in the affirmative, I knew I had no choice but to do so, "YesÉ my DaddyÉ is Alan"

"Oh" he appeared momentarily flustered, "OK, your, um, your daddy Alan, told me to instruct you to deliver this to the address on the front, and to do exactly as you are instructed there. Then you are to report back here before lunch. You understandÉ girl?"

I could see he was warming to the job of belittling me, just as everyone else inevitably did.

"Yes Mr. Bailey" I answered, hating the fake lisp I was made to adopt when speaking with anyone.

"Actually, I think I prefer it when you refer to me as Sir. You got itÉ bitch?"

My face glowed with the humiliation his words caused me, but, of course, I was too brow beaten to offer even the merest hint of resistance, and automatically dropped into the pathetic sissy personality I almost permanently inhabited these days. "Yes Sir, Candy understandsÉ sorry SirÉ"I ingratiatingly mumbled.

"Good little bitch" he smiled, "Well off you go then, and remember, you're to be back here before lunch, so you'd better get your pathetic little sissy ass in gear!"

Clutching the envelope close to my chest, I extricated myself form his office as quickly as I could.

CHAPTER 15.

The address on the envelope turned out to be on the east side of town, necessitating I take another three busses to get there. Thankfully rush hour was past so I was afforded the relative luxury of a seat to myself on all three busses.

When I arrived, I had check the address as it was a decidedly run-down tattoo and piercing parlor. Fearing the worst, I pushed open the door and handed to the envelope to the grubby looking individual who appeared from a door at the back of the store summoned by the loudly jingling door bell. It would be a massive understatement if I said I do not like the look upon his face as he read the contents of the letter contained within the envelope.

"So" he said as he circled me standing in his store, "you're called Candy, Candy BJ Runt, are you?"

"YesÉ Yes Sir" I answered, once again loathing both my lisp and my weakens for adding the respectful Sir unasked.

He sniggered in a quite unfriendly manner. "And it says `ere that you're to do whatever I tell you to. You down with that?"

As my face burned its all too familiar shade of crimson, I answered in the affirmative.

"Good" he laughed, "well let's be having you get outta that gear then!"

I didn't understand, and, respectfully of course, told him, "Sorry Sir, Candy doesn't understand?"

"You dumb cunt"" he laughed maliciously, "Get outta them clothes, go no cunt, strip!" Now!

This last part was delivered with such malice that I dare not hesitate and so, stood before the large shop front window, pulled my blouse over my head and unzipped my leather skirt before stepping out of it. He had to help me out of the corset, but insisted I leave my panties and stockings on, as well as my four-inch black heels.

He then led me over to a chair like contraption which he had me lean back in. he then proceeded to further expand my already inflated lips with a series of collagen injections.

But that was not to be the worst of it, for he then reached for his tattoo gun and proceeded to tattoo something on both my top and lower lips.

Not pausing to permit me to find out what fresh liberties had been taken with my body, he proceeded to move on and tattooed around my eyes. Then a further tattoo was inked above and to the right of my mouth.

Lastly, he pierced both my enlarged nipples and placed gold hoops bearing small golden bells through each loop so that my already artificially enlarged nipples now sported small hoops and tinkling bells.

He enjoyed watching me get dressed, taking great delight in ensuring my corset was as tight as was humanly possible, before laughing at my labored breathing an inflexibility form the incredibly tight reinforced dfabric serving to crush my insides. "There you go slut" he laughed, "all done according to the instructions. That'll be $45 please bitch."

Too late I realized I had not thought to check to see if any coat would be involved, and so had brought no money beyond the loose change I had left in my purse. "Um" I began, knowing all too well how this would end. "I'm afraid Candy doesn't haveÉ Candy doesn't have any moneyÉis there something else Candy can do to pay you?"

And so I ended up, once more, upon my knees on the dirty shop floor, ignoring the pain of my freshly tattooed lips, as I sucked his smelly cock. Worse, he'd insisted that one blow job would not cover the cost, so insisted I gave him my home address with a promise of five further blow jobs owed. This was especially humiliating as it meant one of my hard-given blow jobs was valued at less than $8 each! Bit no end of attempted negotiations would get him to increase their value, and so I took his member in my lips and, doing my best to ignore the pain from my freshly fluffed and befouled lips, sucked him to climax.

As I sensed his orgasm approaching, he grabbed a handful of my platinum bleached hair, pulled my mouth from his rank cock before masturbating himself to climax, delighting in shooting his evil seed all over my face and blouse.

Without giving me time to repair the ravages of his cock, he physically threw me from his shop, leaving me sore and cum dripping in the street outside.

It was only as I stood there, trying to remove his cum from my face by using the reflection in his grimy shop window that I noticed the atrocity that was now my mouth. For in addition to being nearly twice their original size, they also bore vivid red letters clearly stating; I LOVE TO' upon my top lip, and SUCK COCK' on the lower. I was absolutely mortified and made a grab for my lipstick to cover the evil text as best as I could. It was while I was applying a thick layer of waxy lipstick that I took noticed the extra thick black lines around my pretty blue eyes, further underlining my slutty status.

But it was the small cock and balls indelibly inked above my mouth, the small cock sending a small jet of fluid towards my freshly desecrated mouth, that so nearly reduced me to tears on the dirty sidewalk. It was only with the strongest of efforts that I pulled myself together and started walking towards the bus stop, all too conscious of the sensations of my freshly pierced nipples within the lace confined of my cum stained blouse.

CHAPTER 16.

I made it back to Bailey's office with about ten minutes to spare. My arrival was met with gales of laughter from his dreadful niece, Julie, who had me remove my lipstick to show everyone my newly ruined lips, and then made me remove my cum stained blouse to show off my `ring-a-ding' nipples, as she delighted in calling them. "See Candy" she laughed while flicking my nipples painfully, "Now you really are a milk cow, what with your bells and udders! Go on cow, show us how a milk cow moos!"

She then made me remove my leather hobble skirt to crawl around the office on all fours, swinging my breasts, or milk udders as she insisted I refer to them, wildly around beneath me, all the while mooing like a cow. Of course, I was all too aware of more than one colleague recording my debasement on their phone.

When I was finally permitted to reapply my lipstick to conceal the awful message now so obvious on my large pouting lips, Julie instructed me "Of course Candy, you are never to refuse anyone a blow job if they comment on your lips, after all cow, it does say `BJ' upon your driving license and a big uddered cow like you needs her milk! Do you understand me cow?"

And so, I had to swear, in front of at least twelve colleagues that I would never refuse anyone a blowjob.

"What about us women?" inquired Janice, the ugly, fat head of HR, "We have needs too!"

"Of course" answered Julie, "Candy is here for everyone's enjoyment, aren't you cow tits?"

"Yes Mommy" I meekly answered.

Mr. Bailey's arrival saved me further debasement, though I was concerned by the lustful stare he gave me as I struggled to get dressed. "Ah, there you are Candy, I was beginning to worry you'd missed the dead line. We wouldn't want that now would we slut?"

His referral to me in this derogatory manner, further underlined by decent from once proud and contributing member of senior management, to the lowest of the low. "No Sir" I meekly lisped.

"Good. Well then, when you've finished flaunting yourself to everyone here like a common street whore, come along to my office, I'veÉ I've got something I need your help withÉ" his embarrassed stutter and blushes made it abundantly clear exactly `what' it was he needed my help with.

Burning with the shame of it, I pathetically mumbled "Yes SirÉ right away Sir" and while doing my best to cover my bust with the semen stained blouse, traipsed out after him.

As I feared, within twenty minutes, I was stripped to my panties, corset, stockings and heels, wedged under his desk sucking on his cock as he continued working as usual above me. I had hoped I was concealed, but apparently my high heels were quite obvious, sticking out from under the front of his desk.

Any hopes I had concerning the old fart lacking staying power were quickly dispelled as he lasted close to half an hour before emptying his sac down my throat. But then he kept me there until I felt him start to stiffen inside my mouth once more. And so I set about repeating the onerous task of bringing him to climax once again.

It was after his third orgasm, the amount of semen I was forced to swallow very impressive for such an older man Đ Bailey had to be over 70 Đ that matters took a turn for the worse. For as I sat painfully kneeling in the dark and humid confines beneath his desk, my recently tattooed lips still stretched around his not inconsiderately sized member, that I felt the first flow of urine upon my tongue.

My immediate reaction was to rear off his cock, but the sudden appearance of his strong hands clutching my head to his groin made retreat impossible. I fought as best I could given my position of weakness between his thighs, but I was powerless to resist as Bailey held my head in place and proceeded to empty the not inconsiderable contents of his bladder into my defenseless mouth and straight down my throat.

His piss! He made me swallow his piss! It is strange, given how much semen I'd been made to swallow, but the thought of him forcing me to drink his stinking piss, was considerably worse. But he held me there as the steady flow decreased to a trickle, and then stopped.

"Ah, that's better!" I heard him chuckle, before I felt his ancient member begin to harden in my mouth once more! This was not natural!

But sure enough, his cock grew hard once more between my lips, Not so `old man' Bailey retained his grip on my head, through two handfuls of my platinum tresses and began a thorough face fucking. Forcing my mouth up and down his cock until it was buried down my throat, only to pull me back up its length until only his glans remained in my mouth. This went on for a full twenty minutes before he forced my head all the way down his prick, my nose buried in his now sweaty pubes, and proceeded to pump his fourth load down my throat.

He held me there so long that I feared I might black out and so began pounding my fists onto his thighs, but he held me there until I was seeing stars from oxygen deprivation and he had finished throbbing in my throat.

Then he casually lifted my lips from his length and casually pushed me back so I lay under his desk, gagging and gasping for breath.

"You'll do nicely cunt!" came the voice above me.

CHAPTER 17.

My weekend with Bailey was a nightmare. Who knew that the gentle old man I'd enjoyed working with these past eight years was such a sadist? The whole weekend comprised of him taking absolute delight in torturing me, both physically and mentally. From having me service each and every one of his ten or so poker buddies in a bukkake party, every nuance of which was filmed from three different camera viewpoints, having me visit every sex shop within a five-mile radius, dressed in the hideous pink French Maids' costume.

In every store, he would surreptitiously enter first, then have me come merrily gamboling in, the petticoat extended hem of my little dress flipping up daintily to reveal my white beribboned stocking tops, suspenders and frilly pink panties, while my almost completely exposed bosom bounced and jiggled delightfully for the amusement of the seedy looking assortment of middle-aged men that always seem to frequent such establishments. In each store I would have to happily lisp out my inquiry about the size and variety available of dildos and butt plugs, asking, with much batting of my heavily mascaraed fake eyelashes if the `nice gentleman' serving would help me pick one out?

This inevitably ended up with me upon my knees (I got through three pairs of white stockings that night!) in some grubby backroom sucking on yet another unwashed cock, while cooing about how much I loved his `real cock' over the plastic monstrosity I was currently in the process of acquiring through bartering my sexual services, both now and on at least one future occasion.

At the conclusion of every `transaction' I would smile happily while I collected every last drop of the clerks semen with my long fingernail before feeding it, seemingly, hungrily, into my freshly re-lipsticked mouth, all the while lisping out my phone number and address in a voice intentionally loud enough for every patron to take note of it.

CHAPTER 18.

The weekend finally ended with Bailey loading my almost unconscious form into his car, unable to resist copping a final feel as he slid me onto the plastic sheet he's spread out on the rear seats of his Jag. I dozed fitfully, grateful for the solitude at last, as we drove for an hour or two until we finally drew to a stop outside an unremarkable building late Sunday evening. I was just too exhausted to comment or protest, as Bailey drove off without a word,

I was gently helped into a wheelchair by a fresh smelling older nurse and wheeled inside. I was just too tired and physically wrecked to notice anything about my surroundings or the people who fussed around me and eased my supine form onto a gurney.

Even when my top and brassiere were removed, and an older Indian gentleman used a marker pen to draw something upon my chest and hips, I was just too relieved that on one was physically abusing me to do anything other than lie there semi-comatose. I eventually drifted off to sleep, aided, as I later found out, by the powerful anesthetic they added to my saline drip.

When I later awoke in a bright and airy room, I ached all over, especially in my mouth, chest and hips. Then, as I struggled to move into a more comfortable position, I couldn't help but notice the two large protuberances upon my chest and I let out a sob as I realized the latest liberties I'd been subjected to.

When the bandages were finally removed some ten days later, I learned that I was now the "proud owner" of a truly massive pair of 36DD breasts. They were huge and threw off my center of balance such that I found it impossible to walk without taking tiny little steps, their unfamiliar weight and mass causing them to lunge and sway all over the show, I found myself constantly reaching for them to try and arrest their unwanted motion.

But the damage, pardon the pun, was not limited to just my breasts, for both my ass cheeks and hips had been the beneficiaries of sizable implants, and my nose had been changed from the classically noble Bourne nose to a pert little nub. When I was finally able to remove all the bandages, I saw the terrible damage done to me, me! A still heterosexual male!

But by far and away the greatest liberty was in the removal of my testes, now, my small, hormone ravaged cock dangled uselessly in front, hanging limply in front, where my testicles had until recently resided.

My figure was now totally female, and worse than that bombshell, it was the figure of a very attractive, albeit over developed female. My breasts were huge, and topped with my constantly erect nipples, totally eye-catching as they wobbled and jostled erotically with my every motion, and with my balls removed, my now useless penis gave a more than passable imitation of `camel toe' when I wore tight fitting panties, shorts or pants.

I was now completely unable to move with anything other than the gait of a stripper, my new ass and hips somehow throwing off my balance in such a way as to make anything other than the lewdest of gaits an impossibility. Crueler still, this rocking motion further served to heighten my breasts movement.

Even my voice had somehow been transformed. I still spoke with the tongue piercing induced lisp, but my voice was notably higher and `breathier', there now no way I could revert to anything close to a male sounding voice.

Of course, Alan, Julie and now Bailey, could not have been happier when they came to visit me in what I now knew to be a private clinic just across the Mexican border. They took great delight in sniggering as Doctor Penz carried out an inspection of his work. Alan especially loved the look of humiliation on my face as another man physically touched me in a quite intimate manner; gently lifting a breast or running a hand under my buttocks.

"Very nice Se–orita Candy" he said in his quite high-pitched voice, "I think everything turned out just as you requested."

I fought back a tear that the thought anyone could possibly imagine I had wanted these abhorrent modifications made to my own body, but Julie couldn't miss the opportunity to heap more misery on me.

"Yes, Se–orita Candy" she sneered. "now you've finally gotten the body to make all the boys lust after you! Just think of all those hard cocks that you'll be able to suck and fuck now!"

CHAPTER 19.

Julie now had a new favorites hobby, Candy teasing. She loved to put on some slow and sultry music strip make me perform a lurid striptease, making me dance in as sexy a manner as she was able to imagine and then instruct me. Once I was left covered in nothing other than a light sheen of perspiration from my efforts, she would have me sit down, legs akimbo, perform an equally wanton display, stripping off all her clothes while brushing her beautiful breasts or shapely ass in my face, before snuggling up to me as close as possible, whispering vile comments about "Don't you wish you still had your balls Andy, just think how you would punish such a naughty little girl like me?' or Do you like it when our nipples rub against one another Candy" and, does it feel good when you feel my warm breasts brush across your face?' And the most hateful `'I wish you still had a working cock Andy, one you could fuck me with. I want you so badly Andy, please fuck me, make me your bitchÉ Oh no, that's right, we took your little balls and now you're my bitch. Tell me what a pathetic little cock sucking sissy you are Andy, tell me what a cum slut little thissy Candy is!"

And she would have me do it, repeat her contemptible scripts in my higher-pitched lisping voice, telling her, and all too frequently her phones all seeing camera lens, what a cock hungry sissy I was, how I had willingly surrendered my masculinity for my gorgeous new tits, to better pursue my one goal in life now; cock!

It was while I was recovering, just a few days before the final bandages were to be removed and my physiotherapy completed that Bailey visited me and while I knelt between his splayed thighs, seemingly willingly feasting upon his cock, that he dropped the bombshell that I was seriously demoted.

"There is no way we can have a VP running around the office looking like you do, oh no" he remarked before emptying his second load down my tightly stretched throat. "So I am giving Julie your office and responsibilities, she seems much more focused on work," and less on pursuing cock' he didn't add, but obviously implied. "But don't worry, she came up with a great idea Đ she's a really smart one that Julie Đ she decided you'd be perfectly suited for a role inÉ a role in customer support'.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him make quotation marks with his fingers as he said `customer support', before continuing, "So as soon as you're back on your feet, we will sign you up in your new role. It will only be part time afraid, but that will leave you plenty of time to pursueÉ your other interest!"

"oh, I am afraid there will be a serious `adjustment' to your remuneration, something in the order of twenty-five percent I'm afraid."

Twenty-five percent, I thought, taking a twenty-five percent pay cut was going to make matters really tight, but was still very generous for a part-time position. But then it struck me, the old bastard didn't mean a twenty-five percent cut, he meant a seventy-five percent wage cut, leaving me to try and live on just one quarter of my old pay, impossible!

Obviously, my expression as I continued to work my tired mouth up and down his cock showed my dismay, for he went on, "Yes, I am sure you'll lose that lovely apartment and car of yours, so we've found you replacements more suitable to your new position. We will use the money from their sale to help cover the costs of your surgery here, and you can repay me the rest through the tips you'll receive in your new jobs."

Tips? Jobs? Plural, I thought and questioned him with my heavily made-up eyes.

"Yes" he restarted, "Julie has arranged two new jobs for you Đ isn't she a dear?"

Yes, I grimaced inside as he took hold of my hair to begin the violent raping of my throat that signaled his approaching orgasm.

"Yes, Julie has kindly gone out of her way to look after you and, out of the kindness of her heart, she has got you two waitressing jobs, one at Hooters Đ a perfect match for your new figure!" he laughed as he dragged my head up and down his ever erect pole, "and the other is at Stirlings, you know, the topless joint out on the interstate? Unnny, yes, oh god yes, I'm cumming!"

And with that he proceeded to pull my tired and aching mouth from his cock and shoot his third and, thankfully, final load into my unguarded face,

CHAPTER 20.

And so started the latest, wretched chapter of my life. My hours at Bailey's company did not immediately decrease, though goodness knows my pay did, for I had to train Julie how to do my job Đ as well as keep her, Jim Bailey and assorted other one-time colleagues and, in some instances, one-time friends sexually sated.

But I did start both my new jobs, both of which I completely loathed, for, upon multiple threats from Bailey and his evil niece, Julie, I had to play the completely air-headed, big-tits instead of brains, bimbo.

Hooters was moderately better, for at least here I got to wear a brassier, albeit a gaudy push-up number, and cover it with a skimpy Hooters T-shirt, but many tipsy customers Đ not all male Đ took great delight in copping a feel whenever the opportunity presented itself, and under Julie's watchful eye, I was directed to make absolutely certain that many opportunities did indeed present themselves.

But Stirlings was another matter altogether, for here I was permitted no such defense and my enormous unfettered boobs were on display for all to see, and all too often feel. Worse, the manager made it known on my very first day, that certain customers paid extra for the privilege of sexual favors' from the girls of their choice, and as I had easily the biggest tits in the establishment, perfectly plumped up cock sucking lips', and had been surgically crafted' to be the majority of men's ideal fuck toy, I was all too often the girl of choice'. While these facts made me very popular with the sleazier members of the clientele, it made me miserable and many of the other girls decidedly unhappy with yours truly.

Most nights at Stirlings would comprise of me performing my three `dance' numbers upon the main stage, gyrating in the lewdest manner I could manage, all the while shedding clothes until only my too tight shorts and high-heels remained in place. An assortment of singles, five and the occasional twenty-dollar bill would be stuffed into the waistband of my shorts or thong panties as I crawled upon all fours, saccharin sweet smile glued permanently in place as I moved from one filthy sexist pig to another, my super-sized breasts swaying below as my ass swung from side to side.

When the final song ended, I was permitted to collect my clothes and exit the stage. I would dash back to the small changing room to redress and reapply my overdone makeup, before one more gluing my smile in place as I headed out to the strip clubs main room. Here, I might be required to perform one or two lap dances where I would slide all over some podgy pig as he grinned up lasciviously at me, until I was once more topless, holding my pendulous breasts in his face for him to sniff, snuffle and try to bite, before I would turn around and slide my ass all over his cheap nylon pants, his erection visibly tenting his polyester slacks. When at last this song was ended I would move along to the next John, or, more typically, be summoned to the completely inappropriately named `Champagne Room'.

It was here that pretty much anything went as long as the customer was willing to pay the price. For a minimum of twenty minutes I would have to fawn over some sick pervert, letting him explore every inch of my displayed flash before finishing with either a blow job or, worse still, a titty fuck whereupon I would hold my oversized tits together and permit his evil cock to slide in and out of the cleavage between them. As if this was not gross enough, many customers chose to provide lubrication in the form of their spit, hawking globules of their saliva upon my breasts before I bent over to bring them off by thrusting their filthy cock between my breasts until they orgasmed, usually all over my salaciously smiling face.

I would then be permitted about half a song to get myself cleaned up, reapply the copious quantities of whorish makeup and perfume that seemed to permanently adorn my person these days, before reaffixing my sexiest smile and reentering the club to start the wretched process over once more.

At the close of the night, I would prepare to leave the club, having handed over the lion's share of my earnings to the assorted managers, barmen, DJ's and bouncers, to learn what `treats' my fellow strippers had jealously left in store for me. All too often this would entail a large quantity of semen spattered my clothes, frequently soaking my already inadequate panties until they were just soaked in the viscous and vicious smelling fluid. Sometimes they would steal my clothes from my locker, requiring me to search all over the changing room for anything to wear on the long Uber ride home.

Eventually, around 4:00 Ami would climb into my shower to wash the worst or the nights degradation from my tired body, before falling in to bed for a few hours exhausted sleep.

CHAPTER 21.

If I hated my job at Stirlings, then I completely loathed my role in `customer support' at my old company, it that caused me by far and away the most duress, for this role comprised of me accompanying a prospective client out for dinner, usually accompanied by one of my old team account managers.

My role would be to turn up, typically dressed in little more than a skimpy satin slip with spaghetti thin straps holding up the low-cut front that barely concealed or restrained my DD breasts, the sides of which were all too visible. A tiny thong panty, typically matching the satin slip, restrained my useless pecker, and was frequently on show to everyone due to the ridiculously short hem of my slip. Too much makeup and cheap cosmetics, along with a towering pair of ridiculously high-heeled `Come Fuck Me Pumps' completed my attire.

I would usually meet the prospective client at their hotel room, typically at least one hour before dinner, making it abundantly clear to them that I was theirs for the taking. If they felt so inclined, they would fuck me then and there, or have me perform some sexual act for their entertainment. At the given time, we would be collected by the relevant account manager, driven to the restaurant, with me fawning all over the client Đ some of whom knew me in my old life Đ the whole way. The entire dinner would see my draped over the client, often wanking them off below the table and even on an occasion, slipping beneath the table to perform fellatio on them and, even sometimes my old employee, the account manager as well.

A popular trick was to have me sat between two men, at least one of which was the intended client. At some point, I would end up with my thighs splayed wide open so that my legs were positioned over the laps of the two men seated either side of me, I would then be required to masturbate both men until they shot their loads over my silken thighs. They would then be replaced my two more men who would in turn be brought to orgasm my me. At the end of the evening my thighs would be running white with the semen of up to twelve different men.

Alternatively, I would be chained to the men's urinals and forced to drink their piss, or made to masturbate them off into my panties so that my tiny, estrogen reduced penis was swimming in the sperm of multiple men who got to cum in my satin panties.

All in all, I was little more than a prostitute, and inevitably, one day ended up being arrested and charged as such.

To be continued?

Copyright The Scallywags 2017