Bitched Part 1
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Bitched: Part 2 free porn video
Jimmy drove us in my car downtown to the financial district, not too far
from where my office was. We ducked into a Starbucks.
"I'm useless without some coffee," he said.
"Me too," I replied. He told me to save a table; he went to get the
drinks. He returned a few minutes later with a large, black coffee for
him and a small caramel latte for me.
"I figured you should like this, yeah?" he said, placing it in front of
me expectantly. "Kind of a girly drink."
I just told him, "thanks," and started drinking it. I usually took my
coffee black, or sometimes with a bit of milk and sweetener. Never these
kind of fancy espresso drinks. It was disgustingly sweet but I smiled
anyway. I didn't want to piss him off.
"So, let's get down to it," Jimmy said. "Any thoughts on how to put me on
payroll? How are we going to hook this up?"
"Should be pretty easy, Daddy," I said. Quickly, he shot his hand out and
put his index finger on my lips.
"None of that now, okay? That's a private name," he said. "Jimmy is
fine."
"Okay, sure, whatever you want," I said. "Sorry."
I continued with the plan. "I honestly don't think I could give you more
than about $110,000 per year without drawing too much suspicion," I told
him. "That'd make you the fourth-highest-paid employee. Plus benefits are
no trouble. I could sell it to the other execs by saying you do private
market research and assist with creative direction. Does that sound...?"
He cut me off. "That sounds fine. You set that up, and you'll be back in
your size 12s in a few weeks. How do we make it happen?"
"See, that's the problem," I said. "I can't really make any of this
happen like this." I motioned toward my waifish figure. "I could set most
of it up, but at some point I'd have to sign some stuff and do some other
face-to-face stuff in the office, as, well, myself."
"Okay," he said. "You put it in motion, let me know when we reach that
point, and I'll see what I can do."
He stood up. "In the meantime, let's take a walk."
We left the cafe. He grabbed my hand as we walked down the street,
heading towards South of Market, where Ryan Jurek's company was located.
"We're gonna check in on Claudette, make sure she's still with the
program," Jimmy told me. "Besides, I think she'd like to meet you."
We walked into Jurek's office; his secretary indicated that Jurek was
busy, but Jimmy said to, "tell him it's Jimmy," and he came right out.
"Good to see you again, Jimmy," Ryan said. "And who's this young lady?"
He stuck his hand out; I shook it. "I'm Gabrielle," I said.
We joined him in his office; he shut the door and asked his secretary to
hold his calls.
"So, how's your lovely wife?" Jimmy asked him. "Was she glad to see you
last night?"
"Indeed," Jurek answered. "And I her."
"Did you use what I gave back to you at all?" Jimmy asked.
Ryan declined to answer, but it was obvious he had by his embarrassed
smile. Jimmy laughed.
"Yeah, I guess if I found out that my dick might not be there day-to-day
I'd make the most of it too."
I was just sitting quietly in an armchair, while the men talked.
"So, Jurek -- you need to do me a favor," Jimmy said to him. "I know
you're pretty busy, but you'll make time."
"Sure, anything you want Jimmy," he said. "Just don't bitch me again,
please."
Ryan sounded a little pathetic. Of course, here I was sitting with my
legs crossed, playing the patient girlfriend, waiting while the 'menfolk'
finished their business.
"I won't, man, at least not today," Jimmy said. "What you need to do is
watch over Gabby here while I take care of some business around town. I
can't have her following me around all day, but if I leave her alone, I'm
afraid she might misbehave."
"Sure," Ryan said.
"Keep an eye on her. Take her to lunch. In fact, take her shopping. I
want to see her wearing something sexy when I pick her up here later.
Maybe get her nails done."
Jimmy looked at me. "C'mere sweetheart," he said. I stood up. He hugged
me, patted me on the ass, and give me a quick, wet kiss.
"Be good. See you around six or so."
"I will," I said.
Jimmy left the office. Ryan looked at me cockeyed.
"Dannyboy? That's you in there, right?"
"Yeah," I said in a small voice.
"Sorry, Dan. I still feel like this is my fault," he said.
"No, Ryan, it's his fault. I mean, he's the one who's bitched us," I
said. "But you really need to call me Gabby or Gabrielle, because it'd be
weird if anyone overhears us. Or, God forbid, if Jimmy heard you call me
by my old name."
"Good point."
He sighed, and sat back down in his chair. "Okay, uh, Gabrielle, I've got
another hour of work I need to get done before I can take you out. And, I
have to say, having you in the office is extremely distracting--reminds
me of what I went through yesterday."
"I understand," I said.
"Would you mind waiting out there near my secretary's desk? There are
some magazines."
I went back out to the waiting area. He buzzed his secretary from his
office. I could overhear the conversation on the loudspeaker. He must not
have known.
"Fran, you mustn't let her leave," he said. "Notify me immediately if she
tries to."
I was a little hurt that Ryan thought I would screw him over like that.
Of course, I was the one who was bitched right now and he didn't seem to
mind it so much as I had when he was in my shoes. His spirit was perhaps
broken after his ordeal. I know mine was.
I looked at the magazines in the waiting area -- all business
publications.
"Here honey," Jurek's secretary said to me. "Maybe you'd rather read
this?" She handed me a copy of 'Lucky.' I shrugged my shoulders, sat back
down, and started flipping through it. Women in skirts. Women in wrap
dresses. Women in ankle-boots. Women in knee boots. Women in sandals.
Tight jeans. Wide belts. Makeup. All of which I could get away with
wearing--or was expected to wear. It was a weird thing, a whole identity
shift. As much as I wanted to rail against what was happening to me, my
instinct was to be blas? and rather accepting about it. I'd surely be
wearing a pretty dress to greet Jimmy by early that evening, perhaps with
red nails and some lipstick.
Ugh. I put the magazine down and nodded off. I was woken up by Ryan
gently shaking my shoulder.
"You want to go?" he asked.
"Do I have a choice?" I responded. I stood and we walked together out of
his office.
"Those are my daughter's old clothes, aren't they," he asked. I looked
down again at this getup Jimmy made me wear--somewhat baggy overalls, a
tight, corn-yellow shirt with blue flowers around the neck and sleeves.
"Yeah, these were in the box he snaked from your garage last night," I
said.
"So, you're about her size, I suppose," he said.
"Huzzah," I said. "Maybe we can be girlfriends. Fuck, Ryan!"
"Sorry," he responded. "I know this is hard for you. But look at it this
way -- when this is all over, both of us will have experienced something
not many people ever have before."
I didn't respond. With Jimmy gone for so long, some of that weird
haziness had left me. My thoughts were becoming clearer, more
independent. And, yet, I didn't run. I was stuck.
It was a nice day; Ryan suggested that we walk to the shopping center,
take care of getting me an outfit, and then grab some lunch. I told him
that would be fine.
About twenty minutes later we were at the top floor of the San Francisco
shopping center, in Nordstrom's.
"I have to pick the outfit--you know that, right?" he asked me.
"Why would that be the case?" I asked. "It's bad enough that Jimmy is
dominating my every move; do I have to be under your thumb too?"
"Gabrielle," he said, putting his comparatively large hand on my slim
shoulder, "I know you're in a jam, but it's my dick on the line here, and
I don't want to be a woman again. It's best if I dress you up; you're a
girl right now either way. I think I'll be more impartial about how you
look, too. Do you get it?"
It made sense, and I acquiesced, but it still sucked. It sucked when I
had to take off my overalls in the tiny dressing room and have my
business colleague hand me items to try on through the curtain. It sucked
when I had to try on six or seven different skirts of various styles and
materials and at least 10 tops (I stopped counting in frustration) and
parade around for him in front of a mirror in various combinations. It
was beyond humiliating.
At Ryan's instruction, we went with a denim miniskirt that he thought was
"sexy and girly all at the same time."
It was a bit of a low-rise, the waistband was about 3 inches below my
navel. The hem came to mid-thigh. At least it wasn't a micro-mini. There
was an embroidery in the shape of a trio of leaves, green thread on the
left side, from just below the pocket to the bottom hem; the design was
outlined in sparkles.
He decided on a blue camisole with wide shoulder straps that revealed
just a bit of my midriff.
I posed again in this outfit for him. He got a second opinion from a
salesgirl. She approved of the outfit, but told him she thought I would
need a coat. And better shoes.
About an hour later he had paid for the whole outfit and insisted I wear
it out of the store. My new coat was a soft-as-butter brown lambskin
blazer that was cut for my slim figure. I was wearing matching boots,
which, though tall (just at my knees), thankfully had a flat heel.
Next, we visited the makeup counter, where I endured more poking and
prodding. We went to get me a manicure a few levels down at another
store; I didn't even catch the name of it. I was mortified in this getup,
humiliated that it was a business partner that was picking it all out for
me, and every time I looked in a reflective surface I had to do a double-
take at my newly made-up face--mascara, eyeliner, a little blush, some
dark lipstick. When we left the nail place, I suddenly had long nails to
deal with. They looked real enough and had been also painted a color that
matched my lips.
Well, gee, I suppose I could be in Lucky or some other fucking magazine.
I was starting to get upset. I wished that Jimmy would come back; at
least then maybe my brain would go all fuzzy again. Being a woman was
actually better with him and the strange intoxicating effect that
accompanied him. This was too real and I had to pee and I didn't want to
have to do too much with these new nails on my hands.
"Okay, so we're done," he said. "You look great, I think. Want to eat?"
I leaned over to scratch at my left shin, under my new boot. Someone let
out a whistle. I straightened up immediately.
"I don't really have much of an appetite," I said.
"You have to eat something," Ryan demanded. "Jimmy told me to get you
lunch." That was that. If I didn't eat, and Jimmy found out, we'd both be
girls.
We walked to a small cafe a few blocks down Market Street. Ryan ordered a
sandwich. As I wasn't so hungry, I got a salad.
"Typical woman," the server laughed. I gave him a cold stare.
"Er, sorry, ma'am -- just a joke," he mumbled.
Lunch was quick enough, though it'd have been even quicker had I not
practically relearned the use of a fork due to my nail extensions. I
rapped the nails on the table.
"This is really quite mortifying, Ryan," I said.
"I know," he said. "Remember how I was yesterday? You're doing much
better than I did, Dan. I mean, Gabrielle."
It wasn't much of a compliment.
"Of course, I was a little, er, curvier than you," he said. "That was
difficult in and of itself. And those heels killed me."
We chatted more as we walked back to his office.
"Look, as long as you play it straight, you should be back to yourself at
some point, right?" he asked me.
"Yeah, but it could be a month, Ryan," I whined a little. "He said he
wanted me to be like this until I had a period."
"Oh," he said. "I'm not quite sure what to say to that."
"I'm just really afraid that..." I started, but quickly let the sentence
trail off.
"What, what are you afraid of?" he asked me.
"Never mind."
"Come on, Gabrielle, get it off your chest," he said.
I sighed. "I'm afraid I might have sex... with him, with someone else,
while I'm like this," I said. "It's really sort of tempting in this
backwards, perverted way--like you were saying how we're having this
experience most men don't. Part of me wants to take it all the way, I
guess."
I stopped. "And then I get worried that feeling this way makes me gay--
which I don't have a problem with, it's just not how I identify myself."
"Funny," he said. "The only thing I could think of yesterday is how it
might be interesting to find a woman and have some, you know... lesbian
sex."
He sounded so stodgy as he said it that I couldn't help but laugh -- and
laughter felt really good right now, in this absurd sort of hell.
Back at Ryan's office, he had his secretary set me up at a work station
so I could get online, check my email, and check in with my office. She
commented on how pretty I looked. I attempted to look pleased, but it
really sort of depressed me.
I sat down, crossed my legs (a habit by now), and got to work. My
secretary had alerted me to a few supply issues; I advised her on how to
handle them. A few of the senior team were trying to get my buy-in on
something else... there was actually plenty for me to do. I got in touch
with our HR department to initiate Jimmy's new position. The couple hours
until Jimmy came back flew by.
When Jimmy arrived, Ryan's secretary directed him back to the cubicle
she'd set me up in.
"Wow," he said, "I'd've never recognized you. You could be a secretary
here or something. Stand up, let me see you."
I did. I told me to spin. I did.
"Slower," he said. I complied, of course, without really even being
conscious of it, I was back in Jimmy's fog, and just more or less content
to be a good pet. He patted me on the head and then on the ass.
"Love the skirt," he said. I kept slowly spinning. He grabbed me from
behind around my waist. He whispered in my ear, "Nice job today. Good
girl."
I smiled.
He grabbed me by the hand and we started walking towards Ryan's office.
The door was open; he waved us in.
"So, Jurek--decent job on our girl here," Jimmy said.
"Yeah, thank--" I started, but Jimmy quickly cut me off.
"Gabrielle, sweetie! Shut up! Men talking here," he scolded. I took a
step back and hung my head.
"So, yeah, decent, but not perfect," Jimmy continued. "Love the outfit,
but you didn't get her a handbag. So it's not complete."
Ryan took a step back. "N-now, Jimmy," he stammered.
"Oh, quit your crying, you pussy," Jimmy said. "I'm not gonna bitch you
again. Well, actually, yes I am. But not right this second."
He walked up to Ryan, got in his face with a jabbing finger.
"Don't complain, bitch. You fucked up, so you deserve a good bitching.
But since you're not a total fuck-up, I'll let you schedule it. We'll
make it a lunch date--a quick bite to eat, maybe a little snuggle, and
it'll probably be cool. Have your secretary call me at Gabby's place to
set it up."
"Oh, okay," Ryan said. "Whatever you say, Jimmy."
"Damn right," Jimmy said. "I'll send an outfit over for you."
We left shortly after that. Jimmy kept rubbing my ass.
"I really do like this skirt on you," he said as we walked to the car. He
rubbed my exposed navel. "And the little belly showing is nice too. I'm
pretty happy with you."
As we drove out of the parking lot, he asked me if I wanted to know what
he did that day.
"Sure, if you want to tell me," I responded.
"I ran some errands, picked up some skim money from some of your fellow
bitches," he said. "And I did some work. Related to you, sweetie."
"Me?" I said. "What could you mean, I don't understand," I told him.
"Well, you see, I'm afraid if I leave you alone you might, well, try to
think for yourself, maybe get away from me before our deal goes through,"
he said. "And that does me no good. Accordingly, I got me some
insurance."
"What kind of insurance?" I asked, even though I was afraid.
"You'll see when we get home," he said.
About 18 torturous minutes later, we walked into my apartment --
apparently, I had company. There was a woman sitting on the couch, and a
little girl that looked to be about nine. The woman was wearing a long
peach floral dress and had obviously been crying. So had the girl, who
was wearing a denim jumper, white tights, and mary janes. I didn't
recognize them, but there was something familiar. The girl was playing
with a Gameboy Micro, just like the one I'd gotten my nephew Jake for
Christmas, with the custom blue skin and everything.
"Who are these--"
And then it hit me. I knew who they where. Jimmy had bitched them--my
brother-in-law, Gary, a stay-at-home dad, and, yeah, that was my 9-year-
old nephew Jake.
"Oh, man. Oh, Jimmy. You didn't need to do this," I said.
Jimmy had this big fucking self-congratulatory smile on his face. "Didn't
have to. Wanted to. Now why don't you meet your family. Lucy?" Jimmy
called a little louder. "Jennifer? Come say hi."
The woman in the peach dress got off the couch and walked over; the
little girl in the denim jumper clung to her leg.
"What do you want?" the woman asked. "Why are you doing this to us?"
"Lucy, you're going to shut up now," Jimmy said. She did. "Jennifer, this
is your Auntie Gabby. Can you give her a hug?"
The little girl detached herself from her father/mother/whatever and
hugged me. I hugged her back.
"Danny -- is that you?" Lucy asked.
"Uh, uh, her name is Gabrielle," Jimmy said. "Don't screw that up again
or you're gonna get it."
"I'm leaving," Jimmy said. "All of you stay here. I think you know
there'll be some consequences if you disobey me. Have dinner on the table
when I get home." He gave me a fat, juicy goodbye kiss walked toward the
door. "You really do look great, honey," he called behind him as he left.
After Jimmy was gone, Lucy/Gary convinced the girl to go take a nap. I
recounted the whole horrifying story to Lucy, leaving out a few details
(like the weirdly satisfying snuggle session I'd had with Jimmy that
morning).
"I'm especially worried about Jake," he whispered to me.
"Jenny," I said. "Call her the name Jimmy picked or he might get mad and
do something worse to you."
Lucy grabbed her breasts through the dress -- for the first time, I
noticed they were huge. She was something like a "MILF," with that big
chest and honey-colored hair. "What could be worse than this," she asked.
"And my little boy..." he started to cry again, but may have run out of
tears.
"Well, I thought the same thing--'I'm already a girl, what else can he
do--and he bitched the two of you," I responded softly. "He knows how to
up the ante. Any man we know could be next..."
We were both quiet for a while after that. I broke the silence. "You know
how to cook, right?"
"Yes," she said.
"I'm not the best..." I said, "and since he said that we should have
dinner ready..."
Lucy stood up and sighed. "May as well. It may keep my mind off of all
this.
I did have some groceries. We got to chopping. Salads, turkey burgers --
easy enough. I opened a bottle of red. Jenny was still napping when Jimmy
came home.
"Ah, my lovely ladies, I smell something good," he said. He handed Lucy
his jacket and gave me a peck on the check. He turned to Lucy.
"Don't be offended by the attention I give Gabby, love, I know you're a
married woman."
"Jimmy, please," I said, "please turn them back to normal. You have my
full cooperation. I've set things in motion... it's all going to work
out. I won't fuck with you, you know I'm good for it."
He stroked his chin.
"I like it when you beg, Gabs. Try it again, on your knees."
I did so. I begged my little heart out. And I meant it.
"Okay," he said. There was a sort of strange feeling in the air, and
suddenly my brother-in-law Gary was standing there, busting out of that
peach dress.
"Oh, thank God," he said.
Jake came running out of the bedroom, still wearing the jumper and white
tights (he'd kicked off the shoes before the nap), but at least he was a
boy again.
"Can we leave?" Gary asked Jimmy.
"Sure," Jimmy said, opening the door. "Be my guest."
Gary turned to me. "Gabby -- can I borrow some of your...er, some of
Dan's clothes?"
Jimmy interjected. "No. You and your little boy there need to go home as
is. Like a couple of fruits. Get your daughter and get going."
Gary looked at me. "Well, at least we're back to normal. I'd better try
to get home before your sister does... and Jake and I need to talk about
this."
They left quickly.
"His car's not on the street; they won't be public crossdressers for too
long," Jimmy said. "But still, they'll remember me. A couple more bitches
on my tip."
He laughed.
"You... Jimmy, you're really cruel. My nine-year-old nephew... " I sat
down on the couch.
"Yeah, honey, I guess I am rather cruel," he said. "Now let's eat."
I got up, poured him a glass of wine, and served him a plate of food. We
both sort of settled down. He decided to read the paper while we ate. I
just sort of pushed my food around, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
Who would he pick on to torture me next? My dad? My brother?
I got through the rest of the night okay, even when Jimmy made me wash
off my makeup, put on my nightgown, and get into bed with him. I even
just went with it when he pulled me close in the middle of the night to
snuggle him.
The next morning, Jimmy emptied out Angela's box of used clothes and
tossed me an outfit.
"You'd better like it," he warned me.
While I was getting dressed, the phone rang. Jimmy looked at the caller
ID and decided to answer it. "Jurek's office," he whispered to me as he
picked it up. He took the cordless receiver and walked out of the room. I
didn't want to listen in anyhow; it was none of my business. Besides, I
had to try to look cute or something.
It could have been worse. The box was pretty big; without taking an
actual inventory I saw a good five or six skirts, several blouses and t-
shirts, several sets of underwear, a few pairs of jeans of varying shades
and styles, more overalls (I'd had enough of that yesterday), two hoodie
sweatshirts, a running outfit, a few pairs of shorts, a jumpsuit, and a
few pairs each of well-worn sandals, shoes, and boots. There were worse
options than what he'd picked: a cream-colored, linen miniskirt; dusty
brown cowboy boots, a ribbed white t-shirt under a mostly pink hoodie
with a red design on the torso which, when I zipped it up, I realized
formed a heart over my boobs.
Jimmy came back into the room, about to tell me something, but stopped
when he saw me. He put his hand to his chin, stroked it, and nodded
approvingly.
"Wow, you sure are a good little bitch, aren't you?" He walked over and
fondled my behind through the thin, crisp linen. "She wears her heart on
her chest," he chuckled as he felt me up over the sweatshirt.
"Gosh, I made you small, didn't I?" he stated. I unconsciously put my
hands to my small breasts. Only half a handful worth. A few days ago, I
might have called a girl that looked like me "athletic."
"But you're cute. I like you like this," he said. "Come sit on Daddy's
lap."
He sat at the edge of the bed; I did as he asked. It looked like he
wanted that "Daddy" thing again. Boy, this guy had issues.
"You comfy Gabby?" he asked. I was sitting sideways across his legs; his
right hand was on my thigh, his left hand was rubbing my back.
"Yes, Daddy," I said. He seemed pleased.
He rubbed me a little, nuzzled me a bit with his nose. Hands on my
thighs. I didn't care; I submitted to the buzzing numbness in my brain.
The rest of the day was okay, I guess. We walked hand in hand down the
embarcadero. Ate some Mexican food. Went into an arcade on the wharf,
which is where the only real Jimmy-related weirdness happened that day.
He decided to play some skee-ball; he played a round, did okay, ran out
of quarters and then went for more change. While he was gone, a couple of
high school students in letter jackets started playing on the machine
he'd been using. When Jimmy got back, he gave them the evil eye. These
guys were both a lot bigger than Jimmy (who, though he was currently
taller than me, was pretty short for a guy). He told them to get lost,
that they'd taken his machine. I got scared -- these guys could put him
in the hospital if he wasn't careful--or worse, they could do permanent
damage, and I'd be stuck forever! They surrounded Jimmy and pushed him.
He volunteered to "take it outside." He insisted I say put. Predictably,
about 10 minutes later, in walks Jimmy with two high school-age girls,
one blonde, one brunette, both in tears.
"You gotta watch who ya fuck with, don'tcha Gabrielle?" he said to me,
winking.
"Yes, Daddy," I said. He told Betty and Veronica to get lost.
As we made out way back to the car, I asked him what would happen to
them.
"Who the fuck cares," he said.
That night, Jimmy was evidently feeling very manly -- he strutted around
the apartment like a little Napoleon. It would have been comical if he
wasn't so dangerous and unbalanced. When we snuggled that night, me in a
little flowy silk number, I noticed that he'd gone erect. It was the
first time I felt that, and it had me a little worried. I wasn't sure
what I'd do if he wanted to have sex -- I had no condoms, for one thing,
and not even his "buzz effect" would drown out that horror for me.
The time was starting to flow together. I was getting used to this... and
was no longer especially troubled by most of it. Jimmy was noticeably
less pleased... I know that humiliating his targets was a big part of his
pleasure. The next day, early in the morning, a messenger came over with
a package from my company. It was Jimmy's papers. He signed them and the
messenger (thankfully already female; I didn't worry about Jimmy screwing
with her) back to the company.
"You'll be on payroll soon," I told him. "Two, three days tops now that
you've signed all that."
He grabbed my butt and kissed me. "Good girl. Thanks."
"So..." I stammered "... maybe you'll think about changing me back?"
"Maybe," he smirked. He smacked my ass hard. "Now go get dressed--we've
got a lunch date with your friend Claudette."
About an hour later, I was back in overalls--black corduroy, with a pink
t-shirt and, horrifyingly, pigtails tied with pink ribbon. Jimmy made the
pigtails and tied them up. He seemed an old pro at it.
"Oh, sweetie, just suck on a little lollypop and you've completed the
picture," he said. "We'll have to find one for you."
He drove us in my car to a small, uncrowded lunch spot in a neighborhood
called Laurel Village. Ryan--well, Claudette, really--was there, in a
tight blue denim halter jumpsuit that showed off her ample gifts.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," I replied.
"Ladies," Jimmy said. "I'd think old friends like you might give each
other a better greeting than that?"
We shook hands. "No, you stupid cows," he said. "A little closer."
We knew what he wanted. We kissed lightly, with slightly open mouths. He
was pleased. He went on inside and beckoned us to follow.
"How did he bitch you again?" I asked Claudette. "He hasn't been out of
my sight in days!"
"He... I guess once he bitches you a first time, he can do it on a whim,"
she responded. "Remotely."
I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This horrible situation
just got that much worse.
Lianne
- 03.05.2021
- 24
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Bitched Part 3
- 3 years ago
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Bitched Out by a Bitchmaker II The Fuck Puppet
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