Mistress Anna free porn video

Mistress Anna by Snow_Girl This story is on the darker side, and also has the most open ending. If anyone would like to continue the story, please feel free. As it is, this may be reposted to any free archive. E-mail me at [email protected] if you like. **** I He waits in his hotel room for the knock on his door, palms sweating. Hours ago, in a phone booth on the sidewalk, Chris found a flyer for a Mistress Anna. She was a blond goddess dressed in knee-high leather boots with a stiletto heel and a skintight leather bodysuit. Her fingernails were long and red, her hair was curly and fell to her shoulders in golden waves, but it was her eyes that captured Chris. They were a piercing green, and his heart skipped a beat when he took a close look at her. Her look was cruel, and Chris felt that she could dominate him with little more than a whisper. 'Experience Fantasies You Only Dream About... Let Mistress Anna Make Your Dreams Real,' read the flyer. It promised complete confidentiality and one hundred percent satisfaction. 'This is not an ordinary escort service... You will live out your fantasy in the privacy of your hotel room." He had seen hundreds of flyers like this before. They were virtual wallpaper on every phone booth around every convention center in every town Chris had come to do business in. This flyer was different, somehow. That last clause aroused his attention, and something about Mistress Anna promised relief. He had stopped in the phone booth to call his wife, but he spent minutes staring at Mistress Anna's sexy green eyes and the leather boots that covered her legs. Chris had a good, but dull, marriage at home. He also had sexually submissive tendencies that his good but plain wife never dreamed about. He had a deeply hidden desire to wear his wife's panties from time to time. She had never caught him, and he had only tried it once or twice, but he had come almost immediately from seeing his hard cock poking out of a pair of lacy pink panties and feeling the thong running between the crack of his ass. The feel, the thought of having the body to fill out something so feminine... it just melted him inside, sometimes. The urge to buy a pair of panties, maybe some stockings or a teddy was sometimes overwhelming, and his wife had a large lingerie collection that stemmed entirely from Chris' frustrated desires. Lately, the urge to buy lingerie and go back to his hotel room to prance about in anonymous solitude had been growing stronger with each trip out of town. This was the fourth time in five months he had come to the west coast for business. He had masturbated several times on his last trip, just thinking about shopping in a lingerie store, ostensibly for his wife but watching the clerk watching him, knowing that it wasn't for a woman; that it was for him, feminine clothes for a pretender. He dreamed about the walk back to the hotel room, past the room his boss was staying in next door, openly carrying the bag from the lingerie store. Chris came again and again thinking about wearing panties and stockings and having his boss knock unexpectedly on his door, forcing Chris to pull on a pair of pants and discuss business with his boss while his stockinged feet were clearly visible. Chris stared at the flyer, and then dropped a quarter into the pay phone. After all these months and years of fantasizing, why not make his dream come true? "This is Mistress Anna." Her voice was sharp, just what he imagined would come from such a dominantly beautiful woman. "I... I saw your flyer in the..." Chris stammered. "Silence. When I ask you a question, you will answer me with a 'Yes, Mistress' or a 'No, Mistress.' Do you understand?" Chris hesitated. "Yes, Mistress." "Good. Tell me your name." "Christopher James Trenton, Mistress." His blood went cold when he realized he had just given this woman his full, real name. She could find him; if this wasn't kept absolutely confidential, she might be able to ruin him now. He wanted to hang up, but something kept him from moving his arm. She's already got the upper hand, Chris thought. Whatever she asks, I must do. I've already submitted to her. "Do not hang up, Chris. You cannot lie to me, and you cannot hide your fantasies. I know how badly you want to wear panties." Chris was shocked; she couldn't know that. There was no way. It had to be a lucky guess. Yet, he had already given himself to his mistress, sight unseen. "You will trust me, Chris. I can read minds, and I can give you every experience you've ever dreamed about. I can make anything real, and I will push you to your limits." Chris stood still, listening to his heart pound. The street seemed to be completely barren of traffic and all noise seemed to stop in the city. "I know where you are staying. I will meet you in your hotel room at exactly eleven PM tonight. Two blocks north of you is a lingerie shop. You will know what to buy when you get there. Return to your hotel room and remove your clothes. Lay the lingerie out on the bed but do not touch it or wear it. You may not masturbate. If you disobey any of these instructions, I will not show up, and you will be in trouble. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mistress." And with that she hung up. II Two blocks north of the phone booth was a small lingerie boutique run by a stern woman in her forties. Chris was shaking as he entered; reeling from handing his life over to a woman he'd never met. Just buy a pair of panties or some stockings and go back to the hotel, he thought. Be quick and get out. "Can I help you," the owner asked? "Just looking for a... a gift." He was nervous, and the woman had to see that. She had to know he wasn't buying a gift for his wife. Chris looked around desperately for panties, bras, or anything he could buy. He spun around nervously, seeing nothing but robes and nightgowns and teddies, all in pastel colors and trimmed with lace. Chris reached for a pale green teddy because it was right in front of him. Desperate to get out of the store, he turned to take the teddy up to the register when he saw the corset. Shiny and black, with lace bra cups and a matching garter belt, there was a dark red satin nestled under the lace. It was unbelievably sexy, and would make any woman an object of desire. The sight of it made Chris' knees buckle. This was what he was supposed to buy. The store owner was ready for him, too. With a measuring tape, she measured his waist. "This corset can take eight inches off your waist without a problem. Plus, you will need a pair of stockings with that, and a pair of panties. The panties go on over the garter but under the corset, love." Chris shivered inside. Eight inches off his thirty-two inch waist would give him a twenty-four inch waist. The shopkeeper opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of opaque black thigh high stockings and a pair of high cut panties. Chris paid for the lingerie in cash, grabbed the soft pink bag, and quickly walked back to the hotel. He was terrified one of his co-workers would spot him carrying the pink bag of lingerie, which was holding much more than a simple gift for the wife. Ducking through the lobby, praying that he would avoid anybody he knew, he slipped into the elevator. He was alone in the elevator, but the mirrors on every wall reflected his image one hundred times, every one carrying a pink bag of lingerie. In the mirror on the ceiling, he could see the panties and stockings, nestled on top of the corset. Even though he was alone, Chris blushed and pulled the top of the bag closed. On the sixteenth floor, his room was at the end of the hall. Good lord, Mistress Anna will have to walk past all my co-worker's and my boss' rooms. What have I done? What if they see her? They'll know I ordered an escort; if they find out, I'll lose my job... He sighed when he made it to his room unseen. It was quarter past ten and tomorrow was his group's last day in town. His co-workers were probably out drinking and celebrating the deal they had most likely closed today. Chris was an architect, and they had sold a Japanese conglomerate on designs for a new office building in one of the suburbs that ringed the city. He liked his job and his co-workers, but something had compelled him to go out for a walk alone tonight. Perhaps the same thing that compelled him to call Mistress Anna. Chris showered and laid the lingerie out on the bed. He dried off and sat down naked in a chair. He had a full half hour to wait. The clock slowly ticked away the minutes as Chris studied the blood red satin underneath the lace of the bra cups. Would he be wearing that? What would she make him do? How could she know so much about him? Chris grew even more afraid. There were some dark thoughts he had from time to time, and Mistress Anna might find those... she might force them upon him and as much as he desired those humiliations, he rightfully feared them. Wearing panties were one thing, but his darker fantasies couldn't come true, could they? He sits on the edge of the chair, waiting for a knock on the door, palms sweating. Noise in the hallway brings Chris back to the present. It is five minutes to eleven. His cock is standing up rock hard. At four minutes to eleven, there is a knock on the door. It's a loud group, and he can hear his boss David calling out his name. Chris remains in the chair, terrified, cock straining upwards, begging to be touched. Please, let them go away. His mind reels with the ugly possibilities. It sounds like all of his co-workers are in the hallway, and they couldn't miss Mistress Anna walking into his room. He'll have to let her in, even if his co-workers are out in the hall. She knows too much about me to tell her to go away. Three minutes to eleven, and David knocks again. Louder. A trickle of sweat runs down Chris' back. I'll tell them I'm sick and can't go out. I'll tell them to go away. He stares at the corset, and the fine shimmer of the stockings as they lay limply on the bed, and he realizes his heart is pounding so hard that he is about to come. "Chris!" he hears his boss shout. It's two minutes to eleven on the hotel clock. Staring at the corset, hands riveted to his sides, I can't do anything, he thinks. Just please let them go away. There is another knock on the door and Chris' cock jumps, spraying his belly with cum, his cock pumping again and again. As he slumps in the chair, he hears his boss mutter something about Chris being a pussy and not up to celebrating. Somebody else, probably Mark, the project leader, jokes about Chris skipping the drinking and going straight to the hookers. Chris breathes a huge sigh of relief. It's one minute to eleven. In his post-orgasmic glow, he starts to worry about Mistress Anna. Maybe this wasn't a good thing to be doing. Maybe her thing was to mentally manipulate him into coming without touching his cock. I'm sexually spent, maybe I can just tell her to go back... Or maybe cumming means she won't show up. He didn't know if he wanted her to arrive or not. The clock clicks over to eleven PM and Chris stares at the door. Nothing. No knock. No sounds in the hallway. He feels his load of cum dripping down his leg, into his pubic hair, onto the chair. I should really clean this up, he thought, but she might still be... His thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. She was here. III Chris knew it was Mistress Anna. He could feel his cum running down his leg as he went to open the door, but he didn't care. He had a moment of what if... What if it was his boss on the other side of the door? But it wouldn't be. Without checking the peep-hole, Chris opened the door and there she was. Mistress Anna. She wore vinyl boots that came up to mid-thigh, boots so shiny Chris could see the color of his skin reflecting off them. The tops of her thighs were bare and her hips were wrapped in a black miniskirt. She wore a lycra halter-top that revealed her belly and her blond hair fell down to her generously round breasts, D-cup at the very least. Chris couldn't stop staring at her boots, though. They seemed to be miraculously tight, almost painted on. They had a four-inch heel, and the tight vinyl accented every curve of her calf. She immediately stepped inside the room and closed the door. Standing naked next to her, smelling her sweet perfume and feeling the ends of her hair tickling his naked shoulders, Chris felt another erection coming. "Kneel down in the middle of the room," she commanded, and Chris obediently followed her commands. Her voice was clear and cool, and Chris knew that he would obey any command she gave. He wanted to obey her. On his knees, his eyes came up to the middle of her thigh. Unsure what to do, he stared straight ahead, marveling at how the cool vinyl gave way to her smooth skin. "I know what you want. Take a good look at my legs." Chris did. He eagerly stared at her beautiful calves, wrapped so enticingly in vinyl. He wanted to wear boots like that. He wanted to have legs that beautiful. He wanted to be that beautiful... "You want legs like this, don't you? You want to feel the cool vinyl stretched around your leg, feel how a high heel shifts your leg up and lengthens your leg." Yes, he did. She laughed, and Chris' cheeks burned with shame. "High heels, panties, stockings, tights, skirts, dresses, brassieres... only women have the right to wear such things. Only women deserve to wear such things. We love wearing them because these things give us power. You crave that power." Her words rang clear and true in Chris' head, intoxicating him. He stared at her leg with absolute lust and absolute envy. How he wished his leg curved so prettily! He wanted to wear stockings that became a second skin, he wanted to dress himself in skirts and dresses and makeup and be the pretty girl the men all stared at. "Get dressed," she ordered. Wiping the cum off his hands, Chris started with the corset, pulling it up over his waist, turning around to line up the garter belt. Then the stockings were rolled up his legs, dark enough to hide most of the hair on his legs. It took some effort to get all the garters attached, and he looked to Mistress Anna for approval. She simply glared at him. Lacing the corset came next. Mistress Anna pushed him up against the wall and spread his arms before pulling the corset tight. For a moment, Chris couldn't breath. Then, slowly, he realized he could take slow, shallow breaths. The rigid boning of the corset made him stand straight up and also made it nearly impossible to pull on the panties. He fell over and rolled onto his back while Mistress Anna laughed at him. Chris stood up. "I am sorry, mistress. I cannot pull my panties on while I am wearing the corset." She grabbed his arm and pulled him in front of the mirror, cock hanging limply under the corset, the hair on his legs finding the holes through the nylon stockings. He looked like a dumpy thirty eight year old man in drag, though the corset did pull in his belly and give him rounded hips. "Now look at yourself. You cannot wear lingerie because you are a man. Even with your waist cinched in like a woman's, you are still a man hiding behind a mask. An imposter. And you feel that shame of being a man wearing women's clothing." Chris felt shame. He was no longer a man; he was a worm desperately begging to be turned into a woman. A caterpillar begging a fairy princess to turn him into a beautiful, dainty butterfly. He wanted more than anything to be pretty and sexy and desired by men, and those desires made him even less than a man. They made him weak and pathetic. Mistress Anna pulled out a pair of high-heeled pumps. "You want desperately to arouse the lust of men, to be stared at. You will do anything for a taste of that power, won't you? You want a man to stare at your leg and make him think about sticking his cock in you. You want the womanly curves of our breasts," Mistress Anna made him step into the pumps, and he nearly lost his balance. He tried turning around in the pumps, but walking was difficult. "You want to be beautiful and sexy and wear clothes that make men feel lust and women feel envy? To have breasts that call attention to you for all the wrong reasons? To pretty yourself up like a model in a display window, like a girl in a fashion magazine, a sexy shape just waiting to be fucked? You are helpless in the face of beauty, and you will do anything to have the power that makes you so weak." Chris blushed. Yes, he did. He longed to wear sexy clothes and be stared at, but he could not pass as a woman. He was a man, and he could never wield the power that women exert over men. He could never feel the thrill of wrapping a man around his finger by simply crossing his legs. He could never feel the sensual pleasures of being a woman, of slowly applying lotions and powders and the warm scent of a bubble bath... "Give yourself to me, and I will give you that power." Mistress Anna said. The decision was instant. "Yes, mistress. I am yours." Chris submitted completely. "Anything you want from me, you may have. Please, make me a woman. Let me be a sexy woman." He felt another orgasm building, rumbling from his balls to the top of his spine. Chris looked down, and his legs were encased in vinyl. From his hips down, he had the shapely legs of a woman, just like his mistress. His cock hung limp between his feminine legs. His orgasm built. These legs were his, meant to wear high heels and pantyhose, meant to be looked at by men, paraded about for a man's pleasure... His hips rounded around his cock, hips that flared out to give shape to girlish skirts, hips that held up garter belts. He felt his ass get rounder, and he yearned for someone to reach out and spank him. "Mistress, please change me." His body was half female and he was weeping with desire. His arms, now slender and feminine, nails painted dark red. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, tears almost clouding his vision. "Please, I beg you Mistress, make me a woman. I beg you..." He took a breath, then found that he could breathe, that the corset was looser. Chris sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, feeling his chest push against the bra cups of the corset. He had breasts. He could feel them being gently pushed up by the cups of the corset. He stared at his calf, the gentle curve that banked up toward the knee; he felt his leg inside the vinyl boots moving like a second skin. This was his leg. His thigh. His cock, vanishing inside him as he touched his flat belly, cupped his breasts. He looked in the mirror and saw his thirty eight year old man's face on the body of the most incredibly sexy woman he could have imagined. His hands circled his breasts, and he fell to his knees to worship the woman who had given him this beautiful gift... Finally, his cock erupted, and the world started to shake. IV He was still moving, reeling from his orgasm, when the sunlight fell warmly upon him. Chris felt the gentle weight of a pair of breasts, they were his breasts, he knew. He could feel them sloping gradually out of his chest, he could feel the warm sun rolling off of them like water and the soft tug of the bra holding them up. He felt his long hair pulled back from his face into a ponytail, and he felt the hair tugging on his scalp and the bottom of the ponytail tickle the little spot between his shoulder blades. He liked the way that felt. With his eyes still closed he shook his head back and forth, letting his ponytail trace a light pattern on his back, and was it ever wonderful. He was a woman. Chris felt himself drifting slowly upwards and sideways. He opened his eyes and almost screamed in shock. He was riding a long escalator up to the mezzanine of his hotel, but he was now a woman. His heavy purse was full of work, he was... she was going to a meeting in the penthouse. Despite the physical bliss of being a woman, he was shocked when he looked down and saw his breasts for the first time. They were a D-cup, he knew, and straining against the fabric of a light cream colored dress. A scoop neck revealed a deep gash of cleavage and his ponytail told him there was a similar scoop missing on the back. The dress clung to every curve of his massive breasts, following them around and under to where they met his chest again, perfectly outlining his massive globes of flesh. He could feel a g-string thong splitting the cheeks of his soft behind, and a soft skirt flared away from his hips. Pantyhose clung to his legs, dark brown hose that tapered to a pair of fashionable heels. He could smell a trace of perfume and his mind wanted to linger on the captivating sensation of his nylons, but it was his new body's cleavage that held his attention. His soft round breasts... no... HER soft round breasts were gorgeous. She heard voices, whispers really. Far away and right next to her all at once. "Look at those boobs...I want to touch them, stroke them, fuck them... rub my cock against her pantyhose, fuck her tight pussy... I know she'd have a tight hole... just look at those tits." Chris turned around and found a young man in his mid-twenties looking at her, or rather, looking at her new breasts. She could feel the heavy weight of his stare, looking at the curves of her tits. The young man wasn't saying anything, but she could hear him thinking about her ass, about her breasts, filing them away for later tonight when he would go home and masturbate to her memory. Chris looked at him in the eyes, and he quickly blushed and looked away. His weren't the only thoughts she heard. Two old men riding the down escalator, another man staring at her from the ground floor. Every look had a physical weight, every sexy thought men had about her was whispered directly into her mind. She heard it all, thoughts that she would have had in their position, and now she felt them. Felt those imaginary hands rubbing themselves over her breasts, into her pussy, on her ass, peeling her pantyhose off and penetrating her with their minds. While they looked at her, men thought of nothing else, and this aroused her in a place deeper than she had ever felt. Moving on instinct, still half-listening to the whispers of lust that followed her like the train of a gown, Chris went to the elevators, and for the first time saw his reflection. He was a beautiful woman in his mid-twenties, with big brown eyes and a softly rounded face. He could taste a faint trace of lipstick. The young man from the escalator waited shyly next to him. She could hear him thinking a mile a minute about what to say, how to approach a woman so clearly out of his league. She was a princess to him, a queen, a goddess. He was nothing but a scared and awkward child fumbling about in her radiant presence. To test the waters, Chris gently brushed her hair back from her shoulder, giving the young man a better view of her breasts. His weakness made her horny, and she felt her nipples standing up. The young man breathed a sign of relief when the elevator opened, then swallowed hard when she followed him onto the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse. The elevator had mirrors on all sides, and everywhere she looked, she saw her massive breasts from every angle, nipples proudly sticking out of her dress. She also saw the young man's erection straining in his pants. 'I would do anything for her... anything to touch those breasts, those sexy legs, anything to be her man...' His name was Daniel, she easily discovered. He was twenty-two and desperate for sex. Chris reached out one polished fingernail and hit the elevator stop button. Daniel looked like he was going to panic when she turned to face him. The terror and nervousness in his eyes made her feel even bolder. Chris had hesitated for a moment before stopping the elevator, now she didn't know where she would stop with this helpless young boy. She could break him in two. "Is... Is there a problem, ma'am?" Daniel croaked, his voice almost breaking. "Yes, there is, Daniel." He was stunned. "How, how'd you know that..." "Because I can read your thoughts." "You... can?" He believed her, and he was embarrassed. "Yes. And I want you to do something for me." "Anything, anything, ma'am." "I want you to beat off. Right here. And eat your cum off your hands." Daniel swallowed, but his mind was feverish with lust, all he could think about were her breasts. Chris slowly traced a finger around a nipple. The control she had over this boy, it made her feel all-powerful. One more look, thought Chris. One more look, and Daniel pulled his hard cock out of his pants and started masturbating. Chris gave him a show, rubbing her hands up and down her body, shuddering from how good it felt to touch her curves. Chris put one high heel up on the boy's shoulder and gave him a look at her g-string panties. She ran a hand up and down the smooth nylon on her legs. Everywhere she looked in the mirror was a different angle of her sexy body and this young boy masturbating himself on the floor of the elevator. She pinched her nipples through her blouse and moaned. Daniel moaned in reply and started spurting cum all over himself. Chris stepped back and leaned against the wall opposite Daniel and spread her legs. Daniel sat in awe, cum dripping from his fingers, as he watched the sexiest woman he had ever seen pull her pantyhose down and start masturbating in front of him. "Eat your cum, Danny. For me." Without taking his eyes off Chris, Danny gently started licking the cum of his hands. Chris had broken him, he was her plaything. "That's right, keep licking." Chris moaned, she was feeling an orgasm build, like a fire triggers a much larger explosion, the first wave that rippled through her body only brought stronger ones after it. "Lick your cum up for me, you're mine, my little sex-toy, Daniel. You belong to me..." The orgasms rocked her body, sending her back against the wall, pushing her body higher and higher until he couldn't stand the sheer glory of it. He was a woman, she had just exerted complete control over a man. He was a woman, cumming and cumming and cumming... V He was disoriented, feeling an onrushing wave of lust that made him go weak. It felt like a thousand people were staring at him, wanting him, wanting to fuck him senseless. What he felt in the lobby was a trickle compared to this. This was a full arena, thousands and thousands of tons of lust falling on him like bricks. He felt his legs quiver underneath him, then he was falling, spinning, sliding down to the floor. He was leaning against something, it felt like a metal pole, with one leg wrapped around it, and he had lost his balance. Eyes still closed, he listed to the bass heavy hip-hip music that thundered through his body and smelled air full of booze and cigarette smoke. His body slowly swung around in a circle until he felt the hard floor under his plump ass. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but flashing lights and mirrors. The raw lust of countless men rushed at his ears like a roaring wind. What he had experienced on the escalator was a fraction of this, and lust at this volume was frightening until she tuned it out completely like white noise. Chris realized he was on a stage, and in the mirrors, he saw an audience full of men in suits cheering him. Without looking at his body, he knew he was a stripper, he knew he was wearing the black corset with the blood red lace. He knew he was wearing the opaque black stockings, and the painful arch of his foot told him he was wearing insanely high heels. The music continued pumping, and the men were waiting for him to continue his dance. The pressure of the crowd's stare weighed upon him like a heavy rain, pelting him over and over with a thousand separate drops of lust that built into a massive wall of desire. This is what it's like to be sexy. On his back, staring at the ceiling, Chris started pumping his hips to the rhythm. The lust from the crowd increased. Using the pole, he pulled himself back up to his feet. Riding the crowd's lust like a wave, Chris just let his body take over, swaying left and right to the beat. Swivelling a hip, smacking the firm flesh of her ass. Kicking one leg up over her head and leaning against the pole, rubbing so tightly she could feel the friction on her clit. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. My hair is longer, blown out until it's straight. My boobs are bigger, God, just look at them spilling out of the corset. His heels were at least four and a half inches high, with two inches of lucite under the sole. I must be five feet tall without them, Chris thought. His body carried on with the strip tease and Chris was lost in the cheers and the lust. He let his magnificently endowed breasts come spilling out of their corset, inciting the crowd to cheer louder. Gentlemen along the stage waved dollar bills, and his body obliged them. Giving them all a good look at his pussy or a chance to feel her tits before she let them slide their dollar under his g-string. Chris recognized Brad, one of the assistants from his office, and so she let the boy put his head between her breasts. I am a woman to all of them. I am nothing but an object of sexual desire. Sex was all she was aware of. No job as an architect, no business trip, no hotel room, and no wife... just this body of a stripper and the roar of lust from every man in the room. Her body started catching fire, surrendering to the lust in the room. She finished her stage set with extra gusto, swinging around on the pole, bending over backwards, swinging her hair around, and wantonly sucking on her fingers. The crowd went wild, and the more the crowd was worked up, the more Chris got worked up. The DJ announced the end of her set. "That was Stacy, give it up for Stacy, gentlemen. She's now available for a lap dance at your table, or for a more intimate encounter in our private lounge." Chris liked being called Stacy... He looked at his face in the mirror, with her deep eyes and broad smile, seductively framed by her straight hair, a rhinestone choker around her neck. She was sexy and sultry and Stacy seemed to fit this face perfectly. Staring at herself in the mirror, she readjusted the cups of her corset to cover her voluptuous breasts and straightened up her stockings. Candy was next up on the stage, and she gave Stacy a hand to help her walk down the steps in her six-inch heels. There were men all over the club wishing she would come over for a private dance. Stacy could hear them inside her, like her vagina could pick up the frequencies of desire, men begging and promising and pleading and thinking about the dark, nasty things they wanted to see her doing. So many of them wanting to touch her breasts, stick fingers in her pussy, pay for blowjobs. Two or three guys were willing to pay thousands of dollars to take her back to their hotel rooms, and one small man wished he was up on stage, wearing that corset and being stared at. All in her power... Stacy stood up tall and realized that she must be just five feet tall without heels, because she didn't even come up to the bouncer's shoulders. This is the power of being a woman, Stacy thought. I'm smaller and weaker than everybody in the room, yet I'm the most powerful person in here. Anything I want right now, I can have, because all these men are helpless, lusting after me, wanting me, wanting to touch my body like it was a holy relic... Looking through the smoke, she saw the young assistant from the office, along with the rest of her co-workers. Ignoring the crowd (and breaking the heart of at least five men on the way, she felt), Stacy went straight to her co-workers table and put her hand on Brad's shoulder. Brad was young, maybe twenty-three, and he had obviously never seen such a sexy woman before. "How about it, honey, you want a lap dance? You looked awfully cute sitting by the side of the stage, there." The rest of Chris' old co-workers erupted with screams of encouragement, and without waiting for a yes, Stacy started swaying. She moved Brad's legs apart and put her hands on his shoulders, bending over him, giving him a perfect view of her tits. Still swaying, she draped her hair over Brad's face, then teasingly dragged it over his body. His cock was straining in his pants, and Stacy could easily see it trapped down his left pants leg, straining hard against the fabric. Stacy looked up at all her old co-workers. She knew David loved strippers, so did Mark and Andrew. Stacy deliberately brushed her leg up against Brad's hard cock while staring Mark in the eyes. Brad moaned, and Stacy heard him screaming inside with lust, and she funneled that energy over Brad's shoulder and stared right at Mark. She brushed Brad's cock again and again, and Mark watched her every move, squirming in his seat for his turn. Brad moaned a little louder, and Stacy slipped her breasts out of the corset, hanging them right in Brad's wide-eyed face. He started shaking with lust, and gently, firmly, Stacy slid her hand down Brad's arm and took his hand, softly placing it on her right breast. His palm was hot and sweaty, and almost burned her soft skin, but Stacy pushed his hand into her soft breast while rubbing his cock again. She straddled his leg, rubbing her burning hot pussy up and down his thigh, making sure to brush the top of his cock every time. Once, twice, three times, she started rubbing harder and harder, holding Brad's hands on her breasts, staring at him now... staring as he quivered under her sexual intensity. He was just a little piece of putty in her hands, and she was going to make him come, Stacy could feel it. She rocked harder and harder, feeling her power growing over this helpless little boy, feeling her power grow over Mark and David and Andrew and the rest of them. They had all fallen silent now, staring with their mouths open at this beautiful, untamed woman bucking wildly over the low man on the office totem pole. Brad had his eyes shut, he was fighting Stacy with all his might trying to not cum... He whimpered, he wanted her to stop but he couldn't move, he was paralyzed as Stacy pumped him harder and pushed his hands into her breasts and slid her hot pussy on his leg and harder and harder until he broke and shot a hot load of cum in his pants. Stacy felt Brad's cock jump and felt the hot, sticky cum drip down his leg. She felt pride, looking at Brad's face, flushed with embarrassment. She hid his head in her long hair and slowly licked his ear. "Don't worry, honey, you deserved a little of that for the way your bosses treat you." Without looking at her, Brad made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as Stacy got off his lap. Leaving her breasts defiantly exposed, she looked at the rest of her co-workers. "Who's next?" "If we take you to a private lounge, can we all have a turn," asked Mark. His eyes were hungry, and Stacy could hear the lust burning in his head. He wanted a blowjob, and he would spend a week of Chris' salary to get one. "Talk to my manager, sugar." Stacy replied. Inside, she thrilled to the thought of controlling her boss, making him cum in his pants, embarrassing him in front of his lackeys. None of them would resist her charms, and if she played it right, she might have all of them with their cocks in hand, masturbating for the privilege of touching her breasts. In five minutes, the floor manager was escorting Stacy to a private room, followed by Mark, Andrew, and David. David carried an overpriced bottle of champagne, which he popped as soon as the door was closed. It was now just the four of them, alone and unwatched, in a dark room lined with black velvet curtains. The door closed, and the thought-murmurs of lust she heard from every man in the club stopped. The sudden silence left the air open to the three men before her, closing in on her like hunters stalking a helpless animal. Stacy felt a chill as her sense of power shifted into vulnerability. She was alone, now, with three men who paid to have their way with her. Stacy realized that one on one, she was in control, but that together, these three guys wouldn't be afraid to cross the lines with her. David, her one-time boss, set the bottle of champagne down. "Since this is a company expense, I'm first. Hi, honey, I'm David." She couldn't back down, so she did a sexy walk over to David and stood with her breasts touching his arm. Only now fear was running through her bravado, and she knew these guys could smell that. "Hello, David. What would you like?" Stacy started swaying sensually from side to side. She wanted to take control of the situation, but she couldn't. She wanted these men subjugated at her feet like Brad or the boy in the elevator, but they were too strong for her. They lusted for her beauty, and they had the strength to take her. She could hear the lust raging inside David and she could feel his hard cock. He wanted a blowjob, and she knew he would get violently angry if he didn't get one. He wanted his cock sucked, and Stacy's body was too little and too physically weak to fight off even one of her co-workers. In a panic, she wondered if she could tell them that it was really Chris in this body... Chris their co-worker who knew all their wives names and golf handicaps and Christmas party indiscretions... she wanted to get down on her knees and beg them to stop, but nothing would stop them now. Chris was long gone and all her old co-workers saw was a stripper with big tits. Stacy knew that. She knew their thoughts, knew that she was nothing but a lust-rag to be used and discarded. She was disposable beauty, paid for and soon forgotten, a whore. Cheeks burning red, Stacy tried not to jump when someone came up behind her and put his hands on her hips. They were strong, they guided her movements, pulling her ass back until she could feel a hard cock between her ass cheeks. She was going to have to suck all of them, take their cocks in her mouth and swallow their cum, she knew that. She had to do it, there was no choice, but she could remain in control while she was sucking them off. Another hand grabbed a breast, pawing it, sending a wave of fear through her. A third hand pawed at her g-string, rubbing her labia, exploring her pussy with a fingertip. I must stop this, she thought. I must get control before things go too far. She pushed David down onto the bench, and started swaying over him, like she did with Brad. She felt David's cock bulging in his pants, and she started to rub her clit on it. The pressure from his cock made her clit burn with pleasure, and she moaned. Rubbing harder, she moaned again. This time, David grabbed her hips and pulled her in tighter, pushing harder on her clit, dry-humping her, pulling them together with his strong arms. Stacy never realized how strong David was until she was being tossed about in his arms, rubbing against his cock and masturbating him through his pants. She didn't care, though, because he was hitting her clit with every stroke, pushing her higher and higher. Her fear started melting into pleasure. "Oooh, David, don't stop, harder. Harder." Her moans went from tentative to full-throated, and soon, she felt a wave of orgasm break across her body. She shifted her hips in his hands so he was hitting her clit directly, and another orgasm washed through her body. She leaned in and started sucking David's ear, moaning in orgasm, begging for more. Hands on her shoulders pulled her backwards and the cool air in the room assaulted her burning hot labia. Someone, maybe it was David, got a cock out of his pants and was holding it outside her wet slit. Stacy had lost control, both of the room and of herself. "Please, shove it in. Fuck me!" She urgently whispered. The cock complied, pushing rudely into her and causing Stacy to shake with pleasure. Fuck me, fuck me now was all she could think. The cock pushed harder and harder, filling Stacy up to bursting, then withdrawing and leaving her empty. Then it pushed in again. Or maybe it was a new cock. Her small frame was flipped over and twisted around until she didn't know which way was up. She felt some pressure against her lips, and the next time she opened her mouth to moan, a cock slid into her mouth. She could taste her hot juice on it, and her tongue licked the soft head of the cock in a frenzy. She held onto it with both hands, swirling it around in her mouth, loving the texture, the salty taste. Someone was underneath her, on top of her, now behind her. One cock in her mouth, filling it up, another pulled out of her pussy and started pushing against her ass. She wanted to cry, being left so empty so suddenly, then a hard dick pushed past her sphincter and she felt the first inch of it inside her ass. It filled her up like nothing she'd felt, so big it hurt as it eased in, inch by inch. She let the cock in her hands slip out of her mouth, catching and choking on her breath, on her sobs as this relentless intruder stretched her asshole to the limit. A tear formed in her eye and rolled down her cheek, a tear or sweat, she couldn't tell the difference as she felt that giant rod get buried to the hilt in her tender asshole. When it was all the way in, Stacy could barely breathe, she could never have imagined being so filled up by anything, it felt like the cock went all through her body and she could feel it in her fingertips and the top of her head and the bottom of her feet. She was vibrating from head to toe from this cock, and then it started pumping in and out of her, slowly. Someone under her, there is no knowing who, lifts her up because she can't move, she is nothing but a limp cock ornament given life by the steel rod in her asshole. Another cock slides into her pussy, and now she bursts, crying helplessly, body shivering in orgasm after orgasm as two cocks slid in and out of her in rhythm, bouncing her from one peak to another. A cock explodes on Stacy's face, covering her with cum but she doesn't care... all she knows is cock until she is no longer Chris or Stacy or anything human, she is a burning light of ecstasy exploding over and over again until everything becomes completely white... VI ...white like the hot light overhead on the ceiling of his hotel room. Chris falls back onto the bed, body shaking. He closes his eyes to catch his breath, he has never been so winded before, and nothing can stop his ragged breathing. Several hot loads of cum stick to his belly, something is wrapped around his head, but Chris doesn't care. His body is nothing but light and pleasure happily vibrating around him. "Just relax, now, lie back and breathe while I unhook you." A soft, woman's voice speaks to him, and he feels something being unwrapped and taken off his head. Chris opens his eyes and squints against the light, and for a moment, he is looking into a mirror. It's Stacy's face, smiling at him, holding a silvery headband with wires attached. Her long hair is pulled back, and she is wearing a demure brown suit. "Relax, everything is okay. You've just been in a virtual-reality generator for one hour of real time, perhaps ten to twelve hours of fantasy time," she told him. Slowly, things started coming back to Chris. It was the day after his business meeting with the Japanese, after a long night of drinking... he remembered coming back to his room, bleary-eyed and horny. He remembered drunkenly leafing through the phone book and calling an escort service. One ad caught his eye, something about high-tech fantasy fulfillment, but he couldn't remember what it said. "Don't worry, people are always a little bit groggy after a spin on the VR machine. You probably had fantasies involving events from the last twelve to fifteen hours, because those memories are strongest." He remembered vaguely going to a topless bar and being captivated by one of the strippers. On the floor of his room was the bag from the lingerie shop, a gift for his wife. Chris sat up and looked at all the cum on his belly, some of it was dry, but there was definitely more than one load of semen on his belly. "Your experience was totally private and confidential. The machine feeds your minds own desires back into itself, so your fantasies are yours alone. In your hour, you came four times, twice in the last five minutes. Very impressive, I must say." Stacy finished wrapping up wires and cables, folding them into a briefcase. "Right now, it is seven o'clock in the morning. I recommend you get an hour or two of sleep then drink plenty of fluids when you wake up, your body has been through a rather exhausting experience." With a smile, Stacy snapped her briefcase shut and said good-bye, leaving Chris naked on the bed, covered in his own cum. Somewhere in his mind, he could feel his breasts hanging heavily from his chest, hear the screaming thoughts of lust from the men around him, feel the cocks that filled him up inside. He smiled, thinking of those sensations, his mind already conspiring ways to feel the smooth nylon of lingerie on his legs and the hot strength of a cock entering his ass. VII Before Chris leaves his hotel room, his legs will be shaved and he will be wearing the stockings he once hoped his wife would have modeled for him. Subliminal thoughts racing around in his brain dreaming up ways to share his virtual fantasy world with his plain, dull wife. Before he knows it, he will be calling for Mistress Anna again, and wherever he is, she will find him. Next door, his boss will awaken with a huge hard on and an erotic dream about having sex with Chris in the office. Chris is wearing a corset and stockings in the dream, and has the large breasts of a woman. Two of his co-workers wake the same way, but all three of them will be too embarrassed to discuss it. Brad, the youngest, will spend weeks masturbating to the thought of his older associate's body. Stacy walks out of the hotel with a smile, thinking about all she has accomplished. She admires herself in the mirrors in the elevator. She looks very sexy in her tailored suit, and she knows it. She had a nineteen-year-old boy masturbating in the elevator on her way up to Chris' room, much like his fantasy. Stacy loved watching the weak submit to her beauty. It was the big advantage to being a woman. She had seen and recorded onto a digital tape every image that flashed through Chris' head that morning. Some things, like the boy in the elevator, were her own slight additions. She was testing the waters with Chris, seeing how he would respond. He was very imaginative, and also quite pliable. Stacy had been like that once. Once, years ago, when she was still an arrogant man who would have his world remade around him when he found himself turning into a sexy woman. Four years ago when she was a young executive named Steven who had foolishly tested a VR device after berating the scientist who had invented it. Anna, the device's inventor, had tits so big she couldn't possibly have accomplished what she claimed to accomplish... When she offered VR sex on a device that couldn't possibly work, Steven thought there was no way he could lose. She still didn't like to think about the next nine months. Mentally forced into committing one degrading act after another, shameful acts in dark alleys and brightly lit offices, never sure what was really happening and what was virtual reality, all while her body painfully reshaped itself into her beautiful figure. Fortunately, the technology had come a long way since then. Chris would be spared the pain of transforming, or at least the physical part of it. Stacy looked at her reflection in the mirror on the elevator wall again. She was a knockout, and nothing short of it. Sometimes beauty hurts, she shrugged, but it's worth it. She was happy as Stacy, and enjoyed her work greatly. She was ecstatic that Chris was so pliable. She idly thought that she might be able to accelerate her delivery deadline. There was a sizeable bonus in it for her if she could deliver a newly conditioned subject in less than six months...