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Pick-Up Line free porn video
Another short that I'd been playing with for some time and finally figured
out how to end. Hope you enjoy it.
Assume the usual disclaimer. This story contains transgender
transformation, some off-color language, and sexual references and
descriptions. If you don't like any of that, well, nobody's forcing you to
read it. Go away.
Pick-Up Line
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2000
I always loved the bar in the Chapman Hotel.
The hotel was right at the edge of the big office complex north of town,
convenient for visiting big shots or for staff on temporary assignment.
Then they build the conference center next to the hotel. Nothing fancy, but
just right for trade shows and the like.
What did that have to do with the bar?
It meant that it was the stop of choice for anybody leaving the office
complex in need of a drink or in town for a conference, thirsty, and unsure
where to go. The place was always full of secretaries and professional
types of both sexes looking to relax, and, sometimes, looking for somebody
to relax with. Since I also like to relax, especially with somebody else,
that made it prime "hunting grounds" for me.
I saw the woman sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink. Her hair was a
reddish blonde, flowing off her shoulders and down her back. She wore one of
those flouncy white peasant blouses, with the top two buttons undone to show
a really nice cleavage, and a navy skirt that was tight enough to show off
her splendid figure without being slutty. It wasn't very long either, even
sitting down, it was well above the knee. Her waist was narrow, but her hips
were wide with a tight, nicely rounded ass. Her legs were curled around the
high barstool and, to quote the phrase, "went all the way up to her neck".
I motioned for Jack, the bartender, to come over. "Who's the lady," I said
pointing at my target.
"Sarah, Sarah Mather. She owns a consulting firm of some sort. Class,
definite class."
"She seeing anybody I should know about?"
"Nope. She comes here once and a while; sometimes alone, sometimes with a
girl friend. I don't think she's gay, though. I've seen her leave with a
guy more than once."
I handed him the ten I'd held in my fingers. "Okay, I'm going over there.
When you take my order, ask me if I'd heard any good jokes."
He nodded, and I walked over and sat down on a stool two stools away from
where Ms. Mather was siting. It was close enough to strike up a
conversation, but not an obvious pick-up.
Jack came over. "Hi, Mr. Prescott."
"Hi, Jack. Seven and seven, please."
"Right. Hey, you hear any good jokes lately?"
"A guy goes into a bar and sees this woman in a really tight pants suit.
He's curious, so he goes over and says, 'Excuse me, but how do you get into
those pants?' and she says --"
"That joke is older than this building," the woman interrupted. Jack
retreated to get my drink.
Now the whole idea of telling the joke is to get a reaction from the target,
so you can start a conversation. I hadn't gotten the reaction that I
wanted, but it was a start. I decided to go with it.
"It was the only joke I could think of at the moment."
"Your sense of humor is as creative as your pick-up technique. I saw you
watching me over at the far side of the bar. I should be insulted that you
tried something so trite. I might even think about just insulting you and
walking away."
"But --"
"But instead, I've decided to teach you a little lesson. Come on, I keep a
room here at the hotel." She turned and started towards the door.
I tossed Jack a five to pay for the drink and gave him a "thumbs up". Then
I turned and followed her out of the bar humming "Hooked on Teacher" under
my breath.
* * * * *
Her room was on the twelfth floor. It was more of a mini-suite, actually, a
fair sized living room with an adjoining bedroom. There was even a wet bar
with a small, built in refrigerator. It also must have doubled as her
office, since I saw a box full of files next to a laptop PC on what looked
like a dining room table over in one corner.
"Make yourself a drink," she said. "I'm going to get something out of the
other room." She disappeared into the bedroom. To slip into something more
comfortable, I hoped.
In the meantime, I took a look at the bottles by the bar. I poured myself
two fingers of 12-year old Jim Beam and called after her, "Would you like
something?"
"No, thanks," she said coming out of the bedroom. She hadn't changed,
merely tossed some sort of a bathrobe over her dress. She was wrapping it
shut around her as she came out. The robe was a deep green with yellow and
red symbols of some sort on it. It looked great on her, bringing out the
red of her hair.
I started towards the couch. She looked at me oddly and made some sort of
gesture with her hands. Suddenly, I just wanted to stand where I was.
'Weird,' I thought and sipped some of the Jim Beam.
She looked at me and frowned. "I've really had it with clowns like you who
think a handsome face and some corny line are enough to get any woman into
bed with them. I spent the day with several of my clients over at the
complex. And, you know what, there wasn't a single office where some idiot
pretty boy didn't try something like you just pulled in the bar."
I took another sip of my drink. For some reason, her rant didn't bother me.
Nothing bothered me. I just wanted to stand where I was for a while.
Even the fact that I was enjoying just standing there listening to her
didn't bother me.
It should have.
"I went into the bar tonight to just relax for a bit before I had to come up
to my room and get ready for tomorrow's meetings. Just spend a little among
people. Then _you_ hit on me with that stupid line." She really had a full
head of steam now. If it hadn't been so pleasant just to stand where I was
standing, I would have left.
"Well, pretty boy, you're going to pay for all those idiots who tried
something today. What's your name, by the way?"
"Lou, Lou Prescott." I finished the drink and set the glass down on the
floor next to me. It would have been too much trouble to move anyplace else
just to set it down.
"Nice name. Only, you won't be answering to it for the rest of the evening.
Incidentally, I'm Sarah Mather."
"What are you talking about?"
"You'll see, honey." She made another, much more elaborate gesture with her
hands and mumbled something in a language that sounded a little like Welsh.
All of a sudden, my body began to tingle all over, like an electric current
was going through it. I noticed that the room seemed to be getting bigger.
Then, so were my clothes. I felt them getting baggier on me. Then
something tickled my ears and the back of my neck. It felt like I had hair
there. It was weird, but I somehow didn't feel the urge to look at myself
and see what was happening.
By this time my pants had gotten so loose at the waist that they began to
slide down. They'd have dropped to the ground, but something stopped them.
My hips somehow got wide enough that the pants couldn't slide past. My
shirt was loose, too, but now I felt something pressing against it. My
chest felt fully, kind of sensitive, and it seemed to be pushing against the
shirt.
Then as suddenly as it had started, the tingling passed. I was curious to
see what had happened, but not curious enough to actually look.
"Why don't you walk over to the mirror," Sarah said with a pleasant smile.
She hadn't put any emphasis on the idea, but it seemed like a command.
There was a large mirror mounted on a wall near the bar. As I walked over
to it, I noticed that my reflection didn't look right. I should have seen
Lou Prescott, thirty-two year old ex-jock, six foot two with curly brown
hair and a killer smile. Instead, it looked like Sarah's kid sister was
wearing my suit, a pretty girl in her early twenties, about five foot five
with golden blonde hair running halfway down her back.
Sarah joined me as I stared at the image - my image. _I_ was the girl.
"Pretty, isn't she?" Sarah said. "Even without any make-up and in those
ridiculous clothes. You look fabulous, Lucy."
"Lucy?" My voice was much higher, a soprano squeak that sounded like a
little girl.
"Yes. You're my cousin, Lucy Mather now. At least that's the only name you
can answer to."
"No! I'm not Lucy Mather! I'm not a girl. I'm a girl! I mean - I'm a
girl! I'm Lou-cy P-P-Pa-Mather!" I all but spit out the last name in
frustration. What had she done? How was it possible?
"It's possible because I'm a witch - and, yes, I just read your mind." She
looked me up and down. "Now let's do something about those clothes." She
made another gesture and spoke a few more of those strange words.
I felt my clothes moving across my body again, and this time I was looking
in a mirror, so I could see what was happening.
My navy suit jacket grew lighter in color, turning baby blue. At the same
time, the material softened so that it became a sweater, a girl's sweater.
My shirtsleeves retreated up into the sweater. I felt them moving up my
arms until they disappeared as my cotton shirt transformed into a woman's
silk blouse. The collar also disappeared, as did the top two buttons. My
necktie shrank down into a gold chain with a little heart-shaped locket at
the end. The locket settled down into what I suddenly realized was my very
attractive cleavage. I felt a rippling of material under the shirt as my
T-shirt transformed into a lacy bra. A thought popped into my head that I
needed a bra with my new 38-D breasts.
I couldn't see below my knees in the mirror, but I watched my pants rise up
my legs to become a pair of shorts. They looked good on my wide, feminine
hips. Then the shorts merged into a tube of material that became a
mini-skirt some five or six inches above the knees. I saw my socks grow up
my legs as if chasing after the pants. They grew up past the hem of my
skirt and merged at my hips before becoming a pair of sheer pantyhose. Then
I seemed to grow taller.
Sarah saw the confused look in my eyes as I grew. "You're wearing
three-inch high heels now, Lucy."
I was done now. No! Something seemed to be happening to my face. I saw my
lips darken as lipstick suddenly appeared on them. I felt blusher on my
cheeks. I blinked my eyes in surprise and discovered mascara and a pale
blue eyeliner on those same eyes. The girl in the mirror looked sweet and
sexy and very innocent. She would draw men the way bees draw honey.
"A very good analogy, Lucy." Sarah had read my mind again. "But maybe a
little _too_ clever for a sweet young thing like you."
I stared at myself in the mirror uncertain what would happen next.
"All right, _cousin, dear_." Sarah smiled like a cat might smile while it
was playing with a mouse. "Here?s what happens now. You're going back down
to the bar, and you?re going to stay there the rest of the evening no matter
how much you want to leave. You?ll get to feel what it's like to be hit on
all evening."
She was suddenly holding a purse. She handed it to me, and I was compelled
to put the strap over my shoulder. "Please don't make me do this," I said,
tears welling up in my eyes.
"Oh, don't cry, Lucy. You'll ruin your make-up." I blinked as the tears
seemed to vanish from my eyes." She opened the door. "Now you go
downstairs and see how the other half lives." I slowly walked out -- I
really had no choice in the matter. My body was doing what she told it to,
not what I told it to. She either read my mind or my body language because
she added, "and, Lucy, you perk up and be sure to smile for all the nice men
you're going to be meeting." afterthought, she added.
I straightened and walked chest out stomach in (which must have looked
really great considering my new figure) to the elevator. I pressed the
button. While I waited, I looked at myself in the mirrored doors. I saw a
pretty blonde in her early twenties, eyes slightly closed and with a sexy
little smile on her face.
The part of my mind that was still male felt a rush of lust, but my newly
female body betrayed me. Instead of the old familiar hardness in my groin,
I felt a hardening in my nipples. My groin felt warm, and a little moist,
and -- no! -- a little empty. Dammit, I was arousing myself, but as a
female. This was the last thing I needed when I was going into that bar. I
closed my eyes and took a deep breath and let it out slowly to try to calm
myself.
Unfortunately, just as I did that, the elevator doors opened. The three
guys inside suddenly saw what they could only think was an attractive young
woman eyes closed and sighing at them. They all went into testosterone
overload, smiling and stepping back as I got on the elevator.
To make matters worse, my "programming" took over. I smiled at the one
closest to the buttons for the floors and said, "I'm going down" in that
squeaky new voice of mine. That got me another smile, as three pairs of
men's slacks suddenly got considerably tighter at he top of their inseams.
They spent the rest of the elevator ride staring at me, my legs, my breasts,
my ass. One even looked at my face for just a little bit. Inside I was
screaming, but my body never showed it. I stood there letting them look at
me, feeling their lust as a warmth in my body. It was like being under a
sunlamp.
"Don?t I know you from someplace," one of them said eventually. I felt
myself purse my lips as if thinking. I stared at his face for a minute,
then my eyes trailed down his body, stopping at the bulge just below his
waist. I smiled and licked my lips as I looked back up. "No, I?m sorry,
nothing about you seems familiar." Then I smiled and added, "yet." Damn, I
was flirting back.
Just then, the elevator doors opened onto the lobby. "Bye, boys," I said
and walked out of the elevator and towards the bar. The three of them
lagged behind, but I could still feel their eyes on me. I started walking
with more and more of a sway of the hips, a strut to my walk, until I might
as well have been a stripper a the runway.
I kept going with that exaggerated walk once I reached the bar. As I walked
over to get a drink, it seemed to me as if everything stopped and everybody
was looking at me. If it had been a movie, a spotlight would have followed
me across the bar while somebody played low sexy jazz riffs on a trumpet.
I reached the bar not far from where Jack was standing and sat down on a
stool. "What?ll you have, ma?am?"
"Whatever it is, Jack, put it on my tab." A tall man in his mid thirties
was suddenly standing next to me. He had close-cropped sandy brown hair and
a neat little mustache. He smiled and said, "A pleasure to meet a lady as
pretty as yourself, ma?am." He had a soft Texas drawl that didn?t quite
match the Italian suit he was wearing. "I?m Pete Nelson."
"White wine, please," I said with a smile I didn?t want on my face. I hated
white wine. It was a _woman?s_ drink, but then, I was a woman just then.
"Lucy Mather," I said.
Pete hung in for about twenty minutes plying me with wine and trying to
impress me with stories about his electronics firm in Dallas. When he saw
that he wasn?t making any sort of progress, he smiled wanly and headed down
the bar to try his luck on a redhead that had just come in.
Sam Epstein, an accountant I knew, tried next. Sam was a good guy, and I
kind of felt sorry for him. He used an even lamer joke than I had, the old
"If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"
gag. In spite of myself, I giggled when he said it. I had the sort of
high, breathy giggle now that immediately turns guys on. He tried and
tried, but he couldn?t get a rise out of me.
I got a rise out of him, though. I could see it in his pants.
It was like that the rest of the evening. A guy would come over and hit me
with some dumb line. He?d spend a while buying me drinks and trying to get
me interested. I?d respond, maybe even flirt a little, but, somehow, every
one of them would give up after a while and leave.
And each time, somebody new would take his place a minute or two later. The
only good thing about it was that I didn?t seem to be affected by all the
alcohol I was drinking. I might have enjoyed all that drinking without
getting drunk, but getting changed into a magnet for dumb pick-up lines
seemed like too high a price for the privilege.
* * * * *
It was about 1:40. I was being double-teamed by two jocks from the local
college. They finally gave up and decided to spend the last twenty minutes
before the bar closed to find more agreeable (make that "more bed-able")
company. I sighed with relief. It was almost over.
"Excuse me, ma?am. I couldn?t help noticing you there, and I was wondering
if I might talk to you for a bit."
I turned to see who was talking. He was in his late twenties, about average
height with curly black hair. He was smiling. ?A nice smile," I thought
suddenly.
"I?m Harry, Harry D?Ambriso." He offered his hand.
"Hi, Harry. I?m Lucy Mather." I smiled and shook hands. He had a firm
handshake. I felt a tingle in my breasts as he released my hand. It felt
really, really nice.
The rest of those twenty minutes flew by. He was a computer consultant in
from Chicago to discuss a new application his company was developing for one
of the firms over in the complex. Only, he didn?t want to talk about
computers. It was his first time in town, and he wanted to know what sites
he should see while he was here. He knew something of the town and asked a
bunch of questions that always seemed to get back to the idea of what I -
which is to say - Lucy Mather liked.
There was nothing really sexual about the conversation, but the tingling in
my breasts kept going. It spread out through my body, especially down to my
crotch. I had the same feeling down there that I?d had before, warm, a
little wet, and empty. Very empty.
Jack came over and told us that he was closing up the place.
"Thank you for the conversation, Lucy," Harry said. "Could we continue it
tomorrow night over dinner, say at that sushi place you recommended?"
I smiled my - Lucy?s - best smile. "We could continue it now; that is, if
you have a room here at the hotel."
He smiled back. "I never refuse a lady." He took my hand in his and kissed
it. He knew just the right way. He stared into my eyes as he raised my
hand to his mouth. He opened his lips slightly and closed them around my
knuckle, where my ring finger joined my hand. He pursed his lips and sucked
for a moment, then licked the knuckle with the tip of his tongue before
releasing it.
A shiver ran through my body. It wanted this man. It wanted him bad!
We walked hand in hand back to the elevator, my head resting on his
shoulder, my body nestled up close to his.
* * * *
I awoke about 8 Am to the sound of a shower. Where was I? I looked around
the hotel room. I remembered going up to a room with Sarah Mather and
smiled. Then I remembered what she?d done to me. I glanced quickly down at
my body, half expecting to see Lucy?s tits poking up under the blanket.
No. With a silent "Hallelujah!" I recognized my own very male body. I was
Lou Prescott again.
And I was in a man?s bed.
I?d been intimate with this man, too. Intimate, hell, we?d screwed like a
couple of rabbits. Harry knew all kinds of tricks, and he?d used every one.
My nipples still felt a little sensitive, and I half expected that I?d be
walking bowlegged for a while. I also had gotten far too familiar with what
the phrase "multiple orgasm" _really_ meant.
I smiled at that memory. The pleasure had been incredible, like nothing I?d
ever felt as a man. I felt a new twinge down in my crotch, and I realized
that I was giving myself one humongous hard-on thinking about it.
The shower stopped. Harry was going to come out and find a strange man with
a hard-on lying naked in his bed. At best, he?d call the cops. At worse,
he?d beat the living crap out of me.
A figure came out of the bathroom wrapping her hair in a towel. Yes, _her_
hair. She had a second towel draped around her the way women do, from the
breasts - nice full breasts, too - to down around her hips. She turned so
that I could see her face. "Surprise, Lou."
"Sarah! But how - what - what happened to Harry?"
"I was Harry, Lou. I changed myself into a man the same way that I changed
you into a woman."
"But why?"
"I thought that, after you spent the evening seeing all the wrong ways to
approach a woman, you might learn something from seeing the right way."
"But - you - we --" I couldn?t finish.
"Had sex?" She smiled. No, she _grinned_. "Yes, and it was pretty good,
too. Lucy was one horny woman."
"But I was Lucy!"
"Part of the spell; part of the lesson. Think of it as additional
punishment for acting like a jerk, or you can think of it as a reward."
"I?m not sure what I want to think of it as."
"That will come with time. All wisdom does."
"And will I see you again?"
"Probably not. I?m not really interested in you except as somebody that I
taught a lesson to."
"Well, at least that?s over. I don?t think I?ll ever try any sort of dumb
line like that again."
"I hope not."
"Why? Why do you say that?"
"Because I didn?t end the spell that I cast on you, Lou. I just
de-activated it. You try using a dumb pick-up line on _any_ woman ever
again, and it re-activates, and, Lou --" she paused for effect.
"Yeah?"
"I will know if the spell re-activates, and I will make _very_ sure that you
can?t find me to _ever_ change you back."
The End
Copyright Ellie Dauber, 2000. This story may be posted to any FREE site.
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