Bikini Beach Reluctant Voyeur
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Bikini Beach: Reluctant Temptress free porn video
Bikini Beach: Reluctant Temptress
By Radioactive Loner
It was a nice break from the humid weather, Cherry mused, as,
resting her hands on her hips, she arched her back to give it
some relief. It wasn't just that these... things... tended to
give her occasional backaches... they were also very
uncomfortable to lug around in warm weather. And oy, the
jiggling... even with *adequate* support, they swayed back and
forth like a pregnant woman's belly! And they were so damn
sensitive! It wasn't quite as bad or as painful as getting kneed
in the groin, but still, they bruised easily. She was beginning
to understand why women liked their breasts to be caressed, not
grabbed by the handful and then manipulated like Play-Doh.
It had been about two weeks since the old woman had transformed
her from Jacob Anthony, out-of-work web designer, into Cherry
Ellen Carmichael, exotic dancer. It really was her own fault,
Cherry mused. Jacob had known, from the start, that trying to
place webcams into the women's locker room for the water park was
just not kosher, but he needed the money far too badly. And when
the owner of the park had caught him in the act, she had turned
him into Cherry.
At least she left me with my intellect, Cherry thought, even if I
can't express it. Oh, she had tried, but her thoughts didn't come
out the way she intended. There was some sort of magical
"realtime translation" of her thoughts into Bimboese.
Some concepts came across fine. "I could really go for a pizza"
came out "I would just looooove some ooey, gooey pizza!" -- the
message, for the most part, unchanged, aside from it now being
phrased in a very cute little-girl voice. A voice that dripped
with so much salaciousness that it tended to add sexual
connotations to anything. Hell, her voice could make "the
election of the next President will have significant effect on
the conservative-liberal balance of the Supreme Court" sound like
a come-on.
Except, of course, *that* would never come out of Cherry's lips.
It would probably be translated to something like, "Like, this
November, I wish they'd put up some President that looked like a
hunk. That JFK, Jr. was cute. I wish he hadn't died. That was so
sad," followed by a darling little-girl sniffle that would act
like a macho redneck mating call, drawing in any red-blooded male
within a 50-foot radius.
Worse than that, though, was her near-inability to read or write.
Whenever she tried to put pen to paper, she ended up laboriously
printing letter after letter, needing great concentration, almost
like a second-grade student. It took her at least three to five
minutes to get her name slowly scratched out onto a piece of
paper, and when done, they looked like a child's scrawl. And
English words almost seemed like a second language to her now:
Cherry found herself often having to sound out simple words, step
by step, to be able to read them. It was immensely frustrating.
There were trade-offs, though. Her life was definitely one that
was a lot more visceral and sensual than the one she had lived as
Jacob, and she had to admit that she enjoyed the ease, grace, and
sexuality that came with her new body. The breasts, yes, were a
slight problem, but anything the size of these monstrosities (J-
cups, as she later learned when examining one of her new bras)
were going to get their share of bruises.
When she got onto the stage, however, Cherry became a wholly
different being. Her movements managed to convey grace and sex
without the simple, raw animal humping that was so common in the
trade. Erotic dance was an art form when it was done well, and it
was a talent that came very naturally to this body. It was only
during her dancing that Cherry found herself enjoying being in
this body... being a sex object. Getting lustful looks. Being...
desired. It was actually rather pleasant. But since her sexual
inclinations remained the same as when she was Jacob, the
attentions weren't really that welcome... it was just too bad,
she mused, that she was being lusted at by men. If only the
audience were made up of lesbians, then...
Cherry shook her head, trying to clear out thoughts of carnal
lesbian sex. She found herself thinking of sex a lot nowadays. It
was, no doubt, a product of the body, the job, and the
hormones... when you get lust directed at you on a constant basis
while your body produces enough estrogen that your breasts could
choke a horse, well, of *course* you're going to feel a little
randy. Despite the old woman's promise that her intellect would
remain untouched, the habits and lifestyle of her body were
having a definite influence. But, hopefully, she was going to be
able to get out of this body, and soon.
Thinking back, she remembered how mad the old woman had been. Oh,
*Gods*, had she been mad. The room had been tricked up so that
Jacob had had to actually take a shower before leaving, and much
to his shock, panic, dismay and surprise, the warm spray had
promptly turned him into a moderately beautiful woman. And
following the old woman's entrance, she promptly cowed the
frightened girl back under the showerheads, turning her into
Cherry Ellen Carmichael, a big-breasted bimbo. And that might
have been all she wrote... but then, she was given a mission.
If Cherry could lure Fred Durnst, an online porn king who had
hired him, into Bikini Beach, then the old woman would change
Cherry back into Sarah, a far more comfortable body to live with.
Not only that, but the proprietor had offered Cherry an apartment
and a job, to boot! And, at the end of a year's time, she'd give
Cherry back her manhood.
And tonight, hopefully, might be the night it all started.
She walked up to the bouncer. "Hey, Tony! Like, big boy, do you
have a sec for little ol' Cherry?" Inwardly, Cherry winced.
Despite having been this way for two weeks now, she still hated
how even the simplest of questions ended up making her sound like
a slut.
"Any time, C.E. What can I do for you?"
Cherry ran a finger down the man's muscled chest. "What I could
do for you, baby..." Thankfully, a mental 'argh!' managed to push
her back on track. "*Any*hoo, Tony, I gotta rich guy comin'
tonight. Can you take him in..." She pointed at the V.I.P. room,
the name of the room escaping her. Cherry sighed. What a freakin'
ditz she was.
"Sure thing, babe. Who is it?"
"Freddy Durnst."
Tony's visage darkened. "Watch yourself, C.E. Wouldn't want you
to get taken advantage of. The guy is definitely low-grade
material. Strictly bumware."
Cherry winked at Tony. "'Sokay, Tony. I got me a plan." She
smiled.
=-=-=
Fred had followed up on Cherry's invitation, like she thought he
would.
And after mustering and exuding every single ounce of sexuality
that she could possibly muster, Fred was nearly... well, was
nearly in need of a new pair of slacks. And, sure enough, she had
got his interest.
And she saw the wheels turning in Fred's little, greedy mind.
And, sure enough, at the end of the evening, Fred propositioned
Cherry for an evening of rather debaucherous sex. Cherry
definitely appeared willing, and in fact, all she wanted was to
exact one small promise from Fred. A promise that Fred was more
than willing to make, as he thought that all he'd have to do was
make a lot of dough.
So, retreating into a small corner of her mind, Cherry let her
habits and tendencies completely take her over, doing things that
night that are best left unsaid.
=-=-=
Consciousness slowly filtered back into Cherry's mind the next
morning.
"You were... wonderful, lover." (Farthest thing from, actually.
Cherry felt sore, bruised, and tired, like she had been through
some sort of automated meat-packing machine.)
Fred reached out and stroked Cherry's chest. Fred no doubt
thought he was being gentle, but Cherry felt as if he was jerking
her breast around like a gearshift. She gently extricated
herself, batting her eyes at him as she cooed, "So, you ready for
that photo shoot today?"
=-=-=
Cherry had managed to convince Fred to do a private photo shoot
of her modeling skimpy swimwear at Bikini Beach. She had worried,
at first, that Fred might have been wary, since she (as Jacob)
had never returned from his Bikini Beach assignment... but then
Fred agreed without a second's hesitation. She was puzzled at
first, but then remembered that the old woman had fixed it so
that Jacob had never existed. If Jacob never existed, Fred had
never sent him there... and thus would have no reason to
associate any foul play with the water park.
"Mr. Durnst. Ms. Carmichael," said the young woman at the door.
Cherry was already dressed in an incredibly indecent bikini that
barely concealed anything. (Considering Cherry's size, it was a
major miracle the bikini was staying on at all.) "Hmm. That
barely meets our requirements of no topless bathing, Ms.
Carmichael, but we'll let it go." The young woman sounded stern,
but, when she saw Fred's attention diverted elsewhere (towards
the long line of shapely bikini-clad girls), she gave a small
wink at Cherry as she pushed across the guest passes.
"You go in there, baby," Cherry breathed sexily in dulcet tones,
pointing towards the men's locker room. At the last minute,
though, Fred's radar... his survival instinct, perhaps?, she
mused... seemed to be picking up on something, and he began to
look towards the men's room door a bit doubtfully.
Grabbing the bull by the horns, she began to whisper in Fred's
ear. Were someone listening in, the most they could have heard
was "Have you ever been...", followed by some inaudible words,
ending up with "underwater?" Whatever it was, it had an
electrifying effect on Fred, who nearly catapulted himself into
the men's locker room.
As the door shut behind Fred, the old woman stepped into the
foyer.
"Ms. Carmichael," she said. "I believe we have a business
transaction to perform?"
=-=-=
Cherry once again stood beneath the showerheads in the women's
locker room. She turned the faucet and let the warm mists and the
pink mists surround her. Closing her eyes, she let the water
massage her muscles. The shower shut off by itself, and she
opened her eyes and walked to the mirror, still nude.
When she reached it, she couldn't help but let go a sigh of
relief. Here was no bimbo. As Sarah, she still was a very
attractive girl, but... oh, so much more understated! The immense
jiggling Js had dwindled down to a much more comfortable C-cup.
The red hair, smooth stomach, and curvy hips and buttocks were
all still very female and very attractive, but didn't scream
'come get me, boys!' like Cherry's body had. And...
"President Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963.
Franklin Roosevelt was crippled because of childhood polio. The
Federal Theatre was a WPO project during the Great Depression.
*Yes!* I don't have to sound like a bimbo anymore!"
Like a child on Christmas, she ran over to her locker. The
clothes were so much more modest, thank God! Not prudish, but not
as slutty as Cherry's bimbowear had been. Just... comfortable
clothes that complimented her body. She pulled on a peasant
blouse and jeans, took a deep breath, smiled, and stepped into
the old woman's office.
"Ms. Anthony. Very nice to see you."
"Ma'am, I'm incredibly grateful."
The old woman smiled. "You deserved some punishment, but you also
deserved a chance to redeem yourself. I pride myself at being an
excellent judge of character."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
"The rest of your 'sentence,' so to speak, should be pretty
easygoing. You'll remain this way for the remainder of the year,
and you'll first design, and then maintain, Bikini Beach's
presence on this 'World Wide Web' Anya tells me about. You will
work primarily with Anya on that... she has more of a head for
all these new-fangled technowhatsis and netty-things than I do,
and I trust her judgment."
She slipped a folder over the desk. Opening it up, Sarah found
something that surprised her by its normalcy: a description of
employee benefits, a very complete package of medical, dental,
and optical coverage. The old woman began pointing out things to
the overwhelmed girl.
"As an employee, you have free access to the water park... and I
warn you, use it. I've not given you any sort of protection
against gaining weight, and," she said, giving the girl a stern
look and poking her in her (currently flat) belly, "I know how
you looked as Jacob. Spending your entire day doing Web design
isn't exactly an active lifestyle."
The old woman sounded stern, but the teasing glint of humor in
her eyes was plain for anyone to see. Sarah couldn't help but let
a grin surface. "Yes, ma'am."
"You also will have a prepaid lease... essentially a free
apartment. These are furnished luxury apartments, and they're
very, very pleasant to live in. Your things are already in
there." She closed the folder. "Look the rest of the package
over. You can ask Anya any questions you may have when you meet
with her Monday for your first design meeting."
Sarah began to get up, but the old woman cleared her throat,
prompting her to sit back down. "There are three more things,"
the old woman began.
"First, Cherry was a cartoon of a woman I pretty much created out
of whole cloth, and plunked your male consciousness into. That's
why, for instance, you were still attracted to women. Now, you're
pretty much you. You're Sarah Anthony, the woman you would have
been if you had been born this way. That is why you feel so much
more comfortable as her -- her life is almost exactly yours,
except gender-reversed. Although that reversal does not extend to
others' lives."
Sarah cocked her head, slightly puzzled.
Seeing her expression, the old woman explained, "For example,
your first girlfriend, as Jacob, was Patty Larson. Well, Sarah's
first boyfriend wasn't somebody named 'Patrick Larson.'" She
smiled mischievously. "Actually, it was your best friend."
"Jeff?!?" Sarah exclaimed. Then, it *really* sunk in.
*Boy*friend? If she totally understood what the old lady was
saying...
"Yes, dear. As Sarah, just as Jacob, you're heterosexual. That
means you're now attracted to men."
Looking at the shock present on Sarah's face, the old woman
smiled gently and patted the girl's hand. "I could've set up your
new body to prefer women, but I prefer to let whatever's natural
for the body come forth. Don't fret too much, dear. Like most
people's sexualities, it is just what will seem natural to you.
Don't intellectualize it too much."
Sarah took a deep breath, and then tried to visualize a Playboy
spread. She could, but nothing moved in her libido, really. They
were just... breasts. And then she thought of a man... and
something... well... purred...
No, no, no, Sarah thought. I'm just not going to think about that
now. Besides, the old lady's talking.
"Sarah, like many women, has kept a fairly good journal
throughout her life," the old lady said, trying to divert the
small panic attack she always seemed to see in transformees at
this stage. "It'll help you adjust and learn what's going on. But
you have your mother and father back." The old woman smiled as
Sarah's relief became evident. The poor dear had missed them a
lot while Cherry -- during that time, her parents had been
childless. Whether Jacob or Sarah, she was a good kid.
"Second," she continued. "at year's end, you will have at least
one offer, and possibly two. The offer you'll definitely have is
this. Many people decide they enjoy being a girl. And anyone who
works for me has that same option. At the end of the year, if you
want to be Jacob again, you'll get that body back. But if you
would prefer to stay Sarah, then I will offer you a free lifetime
pass. I don't expect you to possibly have an answer now; don't
even consider it. Just know the option's there, and try to enjoy
yourself."
"The other offer is this. Sarah, the remainder of this year is,
in essence, a trial period. At the end, I may or may not choose
to offer you a full-time job. That's the offer you *may* get. And
that offer will or will not be made totally independent of
whatever decision you make about the first offer."
"Finally."
Her eyes darkened. "Since you were the instrument of Mr. Durnst's
punishment, you should know why I wanted him so badly."
"Fred Durnst, long ago, took a variety of photographs of women in
store dressing rooms, and published them on the Internet. Among
them was Anya. She never knew about it, and I took care of the
photographs. Glitches are a species of Fae, after all, and I have
a good relationship with the Queen. Mysteriously, a computer
server found its storage and backup completely wiped in an odd
and very localized electromagnetic pulse."
Sarah noticed that, judging from the last few sentences; the old
woman's supposed lack of technical knowledge had been a sham. And
seeing the anger in her eyes as she continued, she was suddenly
glad that she wasn't Fred Durnst.
"But he messed with me and mine, and then tried to invade my
turf. And so, I would like you to meet Ms. Winnifred 'Freddie'
Durnst."
A blonde woman with simply gigantous breasts stepped into the
room. They were... freak-show territory, best left to the
imagination. "Hi!" she said in a voice that was far higher and
squeaky than Cherry's had ever been. "Where are some boys? I'd
like to fuck some boys! I like their long..."
The old woman raised a hand, and suddenly Freddie's face clouded
in fear, and she slowly wobbled her way out.
"Don't fear too much, Sarah," she sighed. "Magic interacts with
the individual, even when it's punishing magic. I didn't pick
that form for him: Freddie is so bad because *Fred* visualizes
women that way. Cherry was pretty bad because you used to
objectify women to that extent, too. If you had been a bit more
equitable to begin with, I could never have plunked you in a
cartoonish body." Then she paused.
"Well," she said. "I could've. But it would've been a great deal
harder. Anyway, Mr. Durnst is much more of a worst-case scenario.
He's going to have to be Freddie for a year or two, and then
we'll see how he's doing. Eventually, he *will* be redeemed. I'm
not going to leave him that way forever."
She gave me a slightly weary, yet restrained, smile. "It's not an
easy job. I wasn't as lenient with the magic in his case as I was
with you, but that's my prerogative, given his history with my
family. I'm not some kind of ogre, Sarah."
"No, ma'am," Sarah said, looking down at her lap. She figured it
was probably the safest thing she could do at that point.
The old lady shook her head and smiled, as if she knew that Sarah
didn't quite believe her. "Well, you'll understand better as the
year goes on, young lady. In the meantime, you can have the rest
of the day off, to get acclimated to your life as Sarah."
She watched as the young lady, already full of a lot more grace
and poise than either Cherry or Jacob ever had, thanked her, got
up and politely took her leave. It was going to be an interesting
year for young Sarah.
Smiling, the old woman shook her head slightly. The child had
some merit, but still... "Kids," she sighed as she began to clean
up the office.
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