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Lucky Slots free porn video
Lucky Slots
by Tanya Sissipus
"Come on . . . please . . ." Damn! Nothing again. I'd been sitting at the
same damned slot machine for an hour, and all I'd managed to do was break
even about twenty minutes ago. It was starting to piss me off - I DO NOT
like to lose - and I must have looked it because the cocktail waitresses were
avoiding me like the plague.
Ah, the cocktail waitresses. Where the Casino had found so many good-
looking women, I have no idea. They appealed to all tastes - short and tall,
slim and voluptuous, sweet and slutty - but they all looked fantastic. The one
who'd been working my section of the floor had been nothing less than
Amazonian Goddess! About 6 foot two, athletically built, nice tits, with long
curly black hair that you just wanted to smother yourself in. Even in the
smoky room, she'd smelled just as sweet as her name - Rosemary.
"Shit!" Another loser. Feeding another token into the machine, I told myself
I'd quit if I could only break even. Of course, that's what I'd said a half hour
ago, and now I was another fifty bucks in the hole. "Damn!"
That's it. I wasn't feeding this one-armed bandit any more of my money. I
grabbed my bucket of tokens and decided to look for Rosemary's
replacement. The heat of the crowds and the smoke in the air were drying out
my eyes and my throat. Maybe, if I could get another watered-down beer
into me, I'd feel a little better.
Suddenly, before I could spot the distinctive silver halter and black miniskirt
of a cocktail waitress, I froze. The slot machine beside me was empty - an
unusual enough sight on its own - and it seemed to be calling to me. Yeah, I
know, it sounds stupid, but I just had a feeling.
Five bucks later, I was ready to toss that 'feeling' out the door. I'd won a
few coins here and there, but nothing special. "Well," I told myself, "Looks
like you have no choice." I felt like an idiot for even thinking of it, but at
least I wasn't alone. All the chain-smoking, near-drunk, gambling addicts
were doing it - and it seemed to be paying off.
Yup, you guessed it. I was gonna try sweet-talking my machine.
"Please, baby, you can do it. I know you can."
Nothing.
"Just one winner, just one. That's all I ask."
Again, nothing.
"Come on, daddy needs a new pair of shoes!" What can I say? I saw it in a
movie once.
Wow! A whole quarter!
Now I was inspired. Taking a quick look around, I leaned close and
whispered "Come on, sissy needs a new pair of breasts." I took a deep
breath and decided to bet the maximum - go for the jackpot. I'd always
dreamed about winning enough to live as a full-time sissy, but had never
admitted it to anyone before. Maybe a little honesty with my machine would
pay off. If not, I promised myself that'd be it for the day.
Yeah, right.
Excited, I watched the three tiny windows as the wheels behind them spun to
a halt. It seemed to take forever, and I felt as if the entire building had
stopped to watch. Stupid, I know, but it was late and I was getting
desperate.
The first one slowed, and stopped. "Blue seven . . ." Not bad - I would have
preferred a purple seven - but two more and I'd be a hundred bucks richer.
The second clicked into place. "Blue seven . . ." Yes - just one more now.
Just when it looked like the last one would stop, it seemed to pick up speed
before slowing again. "A double diamond?" Where the Hell had that come
from? There were no diamonds on this machine - just coloured sevens. No
wonder I couldn't win - the sucker was rigged!
"Hey, way to go!" As some drunken lout slapped me on the back, I realized
the siren above me was flashing and squealing. I'd waited years to have it
happen, but why now? That was only for the big jackpots, not a measly
hundred bucks. Unless . . . oh, shit - unless they thought I had rigged the
machine!
Panicked, I spun around, fighting every inch of the way. Damn, right when
I needed to get away fast, my stool had to go and seize up on me. This
whole night was turning into one long, endless nightmare.
"Oh, no need to get up Mrs. Hanhouser." Her arm waving, a petite blonde
waitress hurried towards me. Relieved, I watched her approach, my eyes
jumping between her bouncing breasts and swaying hips. Obviously, it
wasn't MY siren that had gone off - it must have been the machine behind
me.
As Veronica - I could read her name now - teetered my way across the red
carpet on three-inch heels, I decided to quit after all. My mind was playing
tricks on me, and that seemed as good a signal as any. I'd been here WAY
too long, and would just lose more money if I stayed.
"Hi, I'll stay with you until the attendant arrives." This was getting too
weird. The blonde cocktail waitress had stopped beside ME, put her delicate
hand on MY shoulder, and was talking to ME!
"Huh?"
"A little overwhelmed, are we?" Smiling, she told me "A fourteen thousand-
dollar jackpot will do that to you. Would you like me to send for Mr.
Hanhouser?" Pointing through the white arch behind us, she said "I believe
he's at the blackjack table."
What was she taking about? Who did she think I was? Confused, I looked
back to my machine - and saw not two sevens and a double diamond, but
THREE double diamonds! "But, that can't be," I whispered. "It's
impossible."
"I know," she smiled, "It does seem that way sometimes, doesn't it?"
"No, you don't understand." Slowly, I turned, again fighting for every inch.
Dammit! What was happening to me?
"Janice!" Suddenly, I had some three-hundred pound stranger - who stank
of cheap cologne - throwing his hairy arms around me. "You did it, baby!"
Pressing his bald, sweaty forehead against mine, he screamed "You did it!"
"G-get off!" Disgusted, I pushed him away - and suddenly froze. The hands
before me were huge, and my fingers were swollen to three times their size.
But . . . they were also covered in cheap rings, three of four to a finger, with
gaudy pieces of glass taking the place of gems. A sinking feeling in my
stomach, I traced those hands back to a pair of huge flabby wrists, more
gaudy jewellery in the form of bracelets and a watch, and arms bigger than
my thighs!
I didn't have to go any farther to know this wasn't me, but couldn't stop
myself.
"I think she just needs a minute to catch her breath," the waitress said.
"She'll be fine, Sir, really."
Fine? Fine? I was most definitely NOT fine! As I looked down to examine
the rest of my body I found a trio of flabby double chins, sagging 60DDD
tits, a gut that would have put a teamster to shame, hips bigger than three of
me put together, feet that had to be size fifteens - and all wrapped in a paisley
mu-mu. Gawd, I was some ugly, whale-sized piece of trailer trash!
But . . . if that all meant what I THOUGHT it meant . . . where was MY
body?
"Where . . ." taking a deep breath, I asked "Where is he?"
Still trying to soothe my husband's wounded feelings, Veronica asked
"Who?"
Damn - how was I gonna explain this? "Ah, young guy," I replied, "Dark
hair, wearing a purple t-shirt, black shorts, and black sandals." As my fat
ass slid off the stool with a sickening squelch, I began peering over the
machines, trying to get my bearings.
"You goddamned hussy!" Pulling away from the cocktail waitress, my so-
called husband accused "You win a few bucks and already you're ready to
run off with a younger man!"
Pushing the angry lout away, I lumbered awkwardly into the aisle. Gawd,
this body moved like a top-heavy freight train, but at least I could plow my
way through the crowds with it. Now that I knew where I was, I knew
exactly how to get to where my body was. Or, where it had been a few
minutes ago.
I tried not to think about what I'd do if it wasn't still there.
"Mrs. Hanhouser? Mrs. Hanhouser!" Skipping after me, the little cocktail
waitress looked absurdly small, almost swallowed by my shadow. "Shall I
have your husband sign for the winnings, or leave them with the coin-bank
for you?"
"I don't care," I snapped. "Just get the fuck away from me!" I was scared,
more scared than I had ever been in my life. All those times I had dreamed
about swapping bodies with a cute babe like Veronica, I'd never imagined
getting stuck inside the monster I was now. What would I do if I WERE
stuck? I couldn't live my life like this! Gawd, no human being should have
to live like this! Another bon-bon, and I'd be one of those tabloid freaks
forever confined to a soggy, stinking mattress on the floor of a condemned
shack.
Fighting to slow the considerable momentum of Mrs. Hanhouser's mountain
of flesh, I grabbed the edge of a silver slot machine and started to turn. This
was where I'd been playing - I remembered the washrooms at the end of the
row.
Unfortunately, I wasn't there anymore.
"Shit!" Screaming at anybody who'd listen, I asked "Where did she go? Tell
me!" Spittle flying in all directions, I shrieked "Where the fuck did she go?"
Shifting around to protect his new bride, a young Italian asked "Who?"
"The bitch who stole my fucking body!"
Now I'd done it. I could have come looking for my 'son' or something,
taken a minute to make up a reasonable story, but I'd blown it. Instead of
offering their sympathies, everyone was ignoring the fat drunk,
concentrating especially hard on their machines to avoid meeting my eyes.
What the Hell was I supposed to do?
As another siren began screaming in my ear, I sighed and collapsed onto my
old stool - fully expecting it to collapse beneath me. I needed time to think, to
figure something out, to -
"Cheryl! We did it! We did it!"
Now what? A VERY attractive redhead was hugging me tight, giggling and
kissing me like I was a long-lost lover. Who was she supposed to be? My
daughter? If so, she definitely did NOT take after her mother.
"Come on! Show a little enthusiasm!" Seizing my hand, she yanked me off
the stool and began dancing around the machine. "Smile, silly - you just won
us five thousand bucks!"
Shocked at how easily she'd pulled me to my feet, I looked down . . . and
laughed! Not only laughed, but grabbed my beautiful partner and joined her
in the wildest, craziest, silliest moment of my life. I was free! Free of that
half-ton cow, and magically transformed into a rather striking young
woman, much more in keeping with my dreams.
"Yes! Yes!" Loving the feel of my perky breasts pressed against my
partner's, I kissed her hard - and was thrilled when she returned it! Man,
first I was suddenly a babe, and now I was a babe with a beautiful lesbian
lover. Grinding my cunt against her probing fingers, I didn't care who saw
us or what they might think.
"Congratulations, ladies. Will that be cash or cheque?" Before the redhead in
my arms could reply, I cried "Cheque!" Grinning, I told the middle-aged slot
attendant "Just make it out to Cheryl and . . ."
". . . and Lisa," my lover added.
Yes! Step one accomplished - I'd learned her name. Now, step two - we take
the money, find a nice hotel room, and have some fun!
With a mischievous giggle, she snatched the cheque from his hands and
stuffed it down her bra. Then, dancing backwards, she taunted "If you want
it, you'd better come and get it!"
I laughed, my fears of a moment ago completely forgotten. I'd sooner have
died than live as Mrs. Hanhouser, but now it was the other way around. I'd
sooner have died than go BACK to my old body. Somewhere in the Casino,
I knew, there was a confused young man and older woman looking for
themselves. I felt bad for them, but since I had no more idea what had
happened than they did, I wanted to be gone before they found ME.
So, arm in arm, our breasts snuggling against one another, and our hands
roaming around beneath each other's skirts, Lisa and I danced our way
across the crowded room. I knew absolutely nothing about her - or myself -
but was looking forward to spending a night exploring those answers.
Not to mention, a wonderful morning with the promise of more spectacular
nights to come.
"What d'ya wanna do first, hon?" I grinned. Bumping my tight little ass
against anything that moved, I told Lisa "Personally, I think I'd like to do a
little muff-diving."
"You naughty fucking dyke!" My redheaded lover laughed, surprising me as
she rammed her finger deep into my cunt. "I wanna follow THAT," she
moaned. Jerking me away from the centre of the crowd, she slammed hard
against a marble pillar. "Follow it," she whispered, "And see how much of
my hand I can fuck you with tonight!"
"Mmmmm, sounds good to me." Crushing her between my hot body and the
cold stone behind her, I pressed my lips against hers and kissed. It was so
different, kissing as a girl, and I loved it. As our tongues playfully licked
one another, we smeared red lipstick across our faces, well aware of what
people must be thinking. Gawd, I was loving this!
Even more turned on than me, Lisa suddenly pulled me to a stop. "Do me,"
she breathed, "Right here. Fuck me on the floor and give the folks a show."
Then, taking my face in her hands, she gently forced me to lean back, took a
deep breath, and -
- And I doubled over in a fit of coughing, forcing my lungs to expel the foul
cloud of smoke I'd just inhaled. Painfully aware of the jackpot siren behind
me, I spat the cigarette out of my mouth and looked up in panic.
"Lisa!" My voice was deep and husky, the result of too much hard liquor
and too many cigarettes. Tears in my eyes, I looked to the front entrance and
watched my lesbian lover drag a suddenly reluctant Cheryl out the door. No!
It wasn't fair! We'd been so close, only a few feet away from the life I
craved! Why did this keep happening to me!
This time, there was nobody around to congratulate me. No friendly
waitress, no husband, no lover, not even a disinterested stranger. Looking at
the line of wine glasses atop my machine and the overflowing bucket of
cigarette butts beside it, I could understand why.
"Two hundred and fifty bucks?" I cried. "That's no jackpot! Why the siren?"
Looking down at the machine - and the three cherries it displayed - I found
my explanation. It had run out of coins, so the only way to pay even my
small jackpot was to flash away until an attendant arrived. Dammit! If only
the fucking attendants had kept the machine stocked, it would have been ME
that Lisa dragged through those doors! "It's not fair!"
"You want that in tokens?" a bored looking young man asked, "Or shall I
just credit your bar-tab?"
"Ah . . ." Did it really matter? Would my gambling make ANY difference?
Maybe I should just take the bar-tap and get rip-roaring drunk. Take a chance
on forgetting this whole crazy night and HOPEFULLY sober up in my own
body. "W-w-well," I stammered, "What do you-"
Again with the fucking sirens!
"Guess you won't be needing that change after all!" The plump little brunette
smiled, dumping the handful of tokens back into her cart.
Looking down at my thirty-something, very average form, I moaned. "Oh,
not again." She wasn't as bad as Mrs. Hanhouser or the chain-smoking
drunk - decent legs with fat thighs, sharp bony hips, a generous stomach,
and C-cup tits - but she was no Cheryl.
"Again? You taking ALL our money, April?"
"Ah, yeah." Shaking my head in disbelief, I said "Guess I am."
Signing her name to the bottom of the slip, the attendant told me "You just
take this voucher to the token bank - not the chip bank - and they'll cash it
for you."
"Thanks." Right now, though, that was the farthest thing on my mind.
Strangely exhausted, I adjusted my purse and sighed. What was I supposed
to do now? Get the Hell out of here in a body that didn't totally disgust me,
or sit around and take my chances?
Motioning for me to lean over, the shorter woman asked "Would you like me
to hold your machine while you run to the ladies' room?"
"Why?"
Clearly embarrassed, she moved the change-cart between me and the crowd
before pointing out the problem. There, in the crotch of my white stretch-
pants, was a wet, red-brown stain. Rapidly spreading, it was becoming
more noticeable by the second.
"Oh, shit!" Afraid to touch it, I sobbed "I really don't need this."
"Must have been all the excitement. You know, all the jumping and
twisting?" She shook her head sadly. "Pads just don't do the job they used
to."
Gratefully accepting her offer, I took a moment to ask for directions and ran
for the bathroom. That short jog, across maybe a half dozen yards of matted
carpet, was one of the longest of my life. If I'd been wearing heels, I'd
probably have tossed them aside just to make up an extra second of time.
Finally, I banged into the solid oak door of the washroom, cringing at the
deep 'boom' as it bounced back off the wall. Then, safely inside, I slammed
a quarter into the maxi-pad dispenser and yanked the lever.
Fitting - just like some perverted slot machine.
"That one's all out," a tipsy voice cried from one of the stalls. "Y'all need a -
hiccup! - a tampon."
"Dammit!" I slammed a feminine fist against the machine, ironically jarring
the 'empty' light into operation. As if my situation weren't bad enough, now
I had to fight with a freaking tampon! Ignoring the overdressed tramps over
by the sink - nobody needed that much makeup - I slipped my last quarter
into the neighbouring machine and pulled. Then, ripping the blue-and-white
wrapper from the slot, I stalked into the first stall available and slammed the
door behind me.
"Oh, yuck." My once-white panties were ruined, and I was hoping like Hell
I had a jacket somewhere to tie around my waist. Tossing the bloodstained
panties behind the toilet, I tore open the tampon and tried to figure exactly
how it worked. "Hmm, looks simple enough," I decided after a while. So,
taking a deep breath, I placed the rough cardboard applicator to my cunt and
-
Only vaguely aware of the flashing red light and piercing wail before me, I
moaned softly. If this was what it felt like to wear a tampon . . . well, you
could sign me up for permanent periods right now!
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Suddenly aware of his hands on my tits, I heard
a dark-haired stranger promise "We're taking that honeymoon in the tropics
after all!"
"W-w-what?" Again, I moaned, but the money had nothing to do with it.
Recognizing the Italian newlywed from before, I looked down and gasped.
He'd set me on his lap, hiked up the white lace skirt of my wedding dress,
and was fucking me in public! That wasn't a tampon I felt down there - it
was some guy's cock! I had another man's dick inside me - and, worst of
all, was still bouncing up and down, enjoying it!
"What do ya say to that, Fiona?"
I tried to respond, to say something, but that stiff cock ramming into me
from below was demanding all my concentration. Ohhhh, it felt so good!
This was what sex was supposed to be like - that I was sure - but this wasn't
the time. "L-l-l-later," I gasped, trying to move away. I was about to demand
he let me go before the Casino staff arrived, but never got the chance.
Whether it was the excitement or what, I don't know, but he exploded into
my cunt, his torrent of cum silencing my reply.
"Unngghhhh!" As his hips bucked upwards into mine, I had an orgasm of
my own - my first as a woman! "Ohhhhhh . . . fuuuuccckkkkkkk!" I threw
my arms around him on reflex, crushing his head to my breasts as I rode out
the most fantastic moment of my life. Suddenly, I wasn't regretting the lost
opportunity of Lisa anymore! I was a real woman, with a real man, and he
was making me feel just like I'd always wanted to feel! Gawd, this was
amazing!
"Argggh!" Almost tearing away my nipples with his teeth, my husband cried
"Soon as we get back to Momma's, you're gonna get on your knees and
thank me, you wonderful slut!" Looking up at me with love in his eyes, he
grinned - and I found myself grinning back.
Another siren kept me from hearing what was to come next.
"-fucking cunt!" A long brown cigarette dangling between her lips, a middle-
aged brunette pushed me away from the machine. "I was gonna play that!
You fucking stole it!"
Talk about walking into the middle of a fight! At least I had the advantage of
knowing she was in the wrong. If it HAD been her machine, if SHE had
been the one to win, I wouldn't have been inside the sickeningly-thin female
body I was now.
"The Hell you were," I snarled. Angry, I shoved her back, well-aware that I
was acting out the fury and fear of my bizarre predicament. She probably
deserved it, but I wasn't lashing out at her - I was fighting back against
whatever sinister force had put me there.
"Aiiieeee!" Suddenly, the catty little bitch lunged for my face, her inch-long
nails driving straight for my eyes. The part of me that was still an envious
little sissy whistled appreciatively at the manicured designs, but the rest of
me was all woman.
And that part hauled back and decked her. Satisfied, I took a moment to
make sure I hadn't broken a nail, the looked down in disgust. I deliberately
rested my hand on the arm of MY slot machine, smiling all the while.
"Looks like you picked the wrong bitch to mess-"
This time, I swear I felt the siren before I heard it.
"Yes!" Kissing me affectionately on the cheek, and clean-cut young man told
me "Looks like we won't have to worry about little Charlie's college tuition
after all!"
A few minutes - and a couple bodies - ago, a lusty Italian stallion had been
fucking my brains out. Now? Now all I got was a friendly little kiss on the
cheek! Maybe I was expecting too much, maybe this was all most women
received, but I felt cheated! "Huh?" I managed to reply.
He put his hand on my stomach and smiled. "Whoo! You feel that, honey?
Our little boy knows exactly what Mommy won!"
Now that he mentioned it, I DID feel it. Caught somewhere begin panic and
bliss, I looked down and stared at my hugely swollen - and very pregnant -
tummy. Inside, I could actually feel the baby floating around, kicking against
me in his excitement. It was definitely the weirdest sensation of my life, but
in that short moment, I understood the love a mother feels for her child. An
instant bond had been formed there, and I was already fearing the swap that
would suddenly sever it.
"Honey?" I asked. "Can you get the money? Meet me . . ."
Clasping my hand over our child, he asked "Meet you where, Nancy?"
I'd been planning to run to the car, to escape the threat of more swaps inside
the Casino, but suddenly wasn't so sure. Yes, it felt wonderful now, more
feminine than I could ever dream of being as a sissy, but did I really want it?
Could I handle the next few months of carrying the baby to term? Would the
pain of labour be as bad as I feared? Worst of all, what kind of a mother
would I make?
Before I could make up my mind, another damned siren snatched me away.
"You go, girl!" A towering black stud was hugging me from behind, forcing
one of my own black titties to pop free in all the excitement. Fondling it in
plain sight of our neighbours, he proudly proclaimed "You the best piece of
ass I EVER had!"
Yet another siren stole that moment away from me, followed by another . . .
and another . . . and another . . .
One minute I was a skinny, near-sighted waif, with my proud father rubbing
my head. We'd just won ten grand, and I could already sense I'd never see a
dime.
Seconds later, I was another mountain of flesh, easily twice the size of Mrs.
Hanhouser. Somehow, I'd jumped up from my stool and was pumping my
arms in glee, my whole body rumbling with excitement. I could feel the
waves of fat racing around me, and wanted to be sick right then and there.
Just as suddenly, I was a lonely little nun, clapping for joy. Very proper and
demure, I was smiling and waiting patiently for the attendant to arrive. The
machine was flashing one thousand dollars even, but I had a feeling neither
church nor orphanage would benefit. She was gone, just as I'd soon be, and
it was anybody's guess who would take up residence next.
From there, the jackpot sirens sent me sailing into an incredibly
provocatively dressed young whore - with no less than seven men
congratulating me!
"Penthouse suite, here we come!"
"Remember our deal, Tricia," another leered. "You let us videotape our little
gangbang, let the world watch us fill YOUR slot, and you can keep what
came out of this one." As his buddies laughed at his joke, the greasy-haired,
middle-aged guy began fondling his crotch.
I was debating whether to take my chances as a high-priced whore or kick
him in the balls when it happened again.
And again.
And again.
And again . . .
* * *
That was all a year ago now, three hundred and sixty five days in the past.
I've put several thousand bodies behind me - some I was only too happy to
be rid of, others I still cry over losing. I can't tell you how many times I tried
to escape, but I CAN tell you how many times I made it to the doors. Once,
just once, I got that far only to spend the next three weeks bouncing between
a series of fat ugly women, each worse than the one before her.
Oh, there HAVE been memorable moments. Like the one Sunday night,
around three a.m., when I managed to hold onto a cute blonde for almost
half an hour. Then there was the time I stole ten minutes of forbidden love
with a cocktail waitress, a share of my winnings seducing her into the
washroom. I'd even spent one dizzying day bouncing from woman to
woman, never lasting more than a minute in each, but beginning and ending
each swap with my husband's/boyfriend's/lover's lips locked around mine.
I've truly experienced every aspect of what it means to be a woman, in every
way shape and form.
I'd like to escape. I'd like to be free. Hell, I'd even be happy to get out with
Mr. Hanhouser and spend my days as his fat ugly cow of a wife. At least my
nightmare would be over.
Mostly, though, I'd like to have never said those nine little words. Better
yet, I'd like to have never even COME to the Casino in the first place. Best
of all, I'd like them to have never even BUILT the Casino in town.
'Come on, sissy needs a new pair of breasts' indeed.
There goes that fucking siren again.
______
Mmmm, hope you enjoyed that. Are your pretty panties nice and wet? Is
your lovely cock good and hard? Maybe your wonderful tits are tingling,
hmm? Well, why not email me ([email protected]) and let me know
how I can help (grin).
Grace
- 13.01.2022
- 10
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