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Unexpected Developments free porn video
Unexpected Developments
by DeeDee Littlething
I was in the most boring place on Earth when she walked into the
door. With the top that looked painted on, the heels, and the curves
everywhere she fairly screamed out when mixed in with the shoppers
looking for a roll of TP or aspirin. It was pretty early in the day
to be out dressed like that, not that I would complain for a single
second. The day got even better when she walked over to the photo
department.
Her look transfixed me. She was smiling and pretty, but something
about that smile was different. I knew that if she asked me to do
just about anything, it would be hard to resist and I can't even tell
you why. I only know it was true. She handed me the package and told
me that she expected them by the end of the day. Not, "can you
please?", but assurance that her demands would be met. I hadn't met
anyone quite like her, and I knew that she would figure in my dreams
later. Sadly, she left quickly and I opened the package to find she
had a roll of film to develop.
Photo clerk is a dying art. The only people, who still use film are
professional and high end amateur photographers, who would never give
their work to the likes of me. It's a crap job, but it is easy money
and a college student has to have something for fun. I took the roll
of film over to the machine, there's a little viewport in which I can
see the image and apply some basic correction if need be. Truth is,
if the image isn't very good there's not a lot I can do so it is
mostly a formality.
I put the first image into the machine and took a look at the image.
Yes, there's a little bit of voyeurism in this job, seeing little
bits and pieces of other people's lives. I'd pass the time making up
little stories about what I'm seeing, but frankly most of them are
just dull. This one was an exception.
The woman who handed me the film roll was in the picture. She was
sitting in a chair, in such a pose as to make it a throne. The effect
was heightened by her outfit, a form-fitting latex dress, with a slit
down the side exposing one leg. And, what was worse, she was holding
something in her hand, a stick with some kind of leather loop at the
end, which I realized was a riding crop. Her hair was held up in some
kind of bun and, last but not least, she was wearing some kind of
high-heeled boot with lacing that ran all the way to her knees. I had
seen images like this before, in certain skin mags, this was a
dominatrix. I had never realized such a thing would exist outside of
fantasy, though.
I take a look around, the store has a policy which states that all
images will be looked at and even sent to the police if something
appeared to be illegal. This wasn't anything illegal, but I wasn't
sure about the rest of the images. This is certainly not the kind of
thing that one generally gives to a stranger.
The second image pulled back from the chair so I could see the
entire room. There was some sort of X shape made of wood and
containing what appeared to be eye bolts. I saw a table containing
various things I couldn't identify, but which appeared to be whips of
some kind. I really started to wonder what I would find in the rest
of the images.
The next image was something so bizarre, so impossible that I jumped
back from the viewer unsure if I could believe my eyes. I looked back
into the viewer and the image remained just the same. The door to the
room had opened, and standing there looking rather worried, was I. I
looked closely, to see if this was just someone, who looked like me,
but no. I don't have a twin brother, if I did, he would look less
like me that the guy in this picture. I processed the image and moved
on to the next, really beginning to wonder where this was going to
lead.
In the next image, my doppleganger was kneeling down and kissing her
boots. What's more, there was another person in the shot, perhaps the
one who was taking the pictures in the first place. I look nervous in
the image, matching my reaction to seeing the shot. This whole thing
was impossible, I would remember something like this, what the Hell
was going on? The third person in the shot was a blonde girl dressed
in a kind of shiny fetish outfit. She had on a collar with a little
bell which could be seen clearly in the shot. I had never seen her
before, but I doubt that I could ever forget her now. Who was she?
Some kind of slave to the woman who gave me these pictures? Heart
racing, I moved on to the next image.
Oh. My. My double was standing again and the two women were taking
off all of his clothing. His shirt was opened up, the blonde girl's
hand massaging around his pectoral muscles. The dominatrix was
holding my... er his arms behind his back, not that he seemed to be
struggling very much. No, the look on his face showed some
trepidation, but I could tell that it masked something else. Desire.
Something deep inside me reacts to this image, for a second I imagine
myself in that position and you know, it feels really good. But I am
at work, so try to fight it down and get the job finished.
In the next image, I... oh, heck, call it me since that's who it is,
is back to kneeling on the floor. Except that this time, I am
kneeling on bathroom linoleum, and the blonde girl is rubbing
something all over my body. Am I getting a massage? In the bathroom?
That floor looks like it might be cold. I look at the girl, she has a
smile on her face, whatever the collar represents it is clear that
she loves having it. I wonder what it would be like to be "owned",
having to do the bidding of the dominatrix. And I also wonder what is
going on with these images, where did they come from and what do they
represent.
In the next image, I am naked save for a towel wrapped around my
body. I am facing the camera, but much of my body is eclipsed by the
blonde girl who is kneeling in front of me. She still has that serene
smile on her face as she poses in profile and I can't help but notice
that she is very close to my crotch. I can't tell if my photo double
has an erection, but standing there at the machine, I am certainly
starting to get one. I look away from the girl to my double and am
startled to see that he doesn't have any body hair anymore. Where did
it go? I must've had a shower judging by the towel, did she put some
kind of hair remover on me? Why?
In the next image, I am sitting at a girl's dressing table. The
blonde girl is standing behind me brushing out my hair. I wear a
fairly long ponytail, but she has released it and the hair falls all
over my back. I am wearing some kind of pink bathrobe, apparently I
have been borrowing my clothes for this. The real bizarre thing is
that the dominatrix is standing in the picture with a small brush by
my face. The shot is such that I can see my reflection in the mirror,
and my eyes are closed as if I am expecting her to powder my face.
But that's absurd, they're treating me like some kind of girl? I
have no doubt what kind of freak show that's going to turn out, I'd
look like a complete fool. I click onto the next image, thankful that
this is a slow day because I'm spending far too much time on this.
Although I think most people would understand why, it's nothing that
I want to explain to my manager. Heck, I can't explain it to myself.
The next image takes a while for me to register. It appears to be a
girl's face in closeup, some curly brown hairs framing her face. But
I can look closely and see that it is me. At least me with pale
lipstick, long lashes, some eye color, and a really cute wig. Yes,
cute. I'm not sure how this was done, but I have to say that I look
cute as a girl. Not perfect by any stretch, there's a little too much
angularness in the bone, my brows... hey, they must've plucked my
brows. Did that hurt? The question is absurd, but then again so is
the whole situation. The most absurd part is that looking at myself
made up all girly is really getting me hard.
Next image, the dominatrix is behind me again, her gloved hand at my
neck, pulling my chin upward slightly exposing my throat. The blonde
girl is approaching me with a collar. The collar has a little bell,
just like the one the blonde girl has on. In the background of the
image, I can see a latex catsuit, again a match to the one the blonde
girl is wearing. I can see the fear and desire in my eyes, again it
matches my real reactions. The image is very powerful, almost primal
as my double submits to being collared. I find it hard to sit still,
what would I do in this situation. They try to turn me into a girl
for some reason and I like it? Why?
Next. I am being zipped into the catsuit. I notice that the blonde
girl's hand is down inside the pants and by the look on my face, she
is touching some really sensitive parts. My legs are encased already,
the dominatrix is putting my arms into the sleeves, after which it's
simply a matter of zipping up the back. I can hardly contain my
excitement as I click to the next image.
There I am, the catsuit completely encasing my body (makes you
wonder why they would bother removing my hair). The suit must be
pressing my sides pretty tightly, since it looks like I have a slight
hourglass. What's more, the top of the suit contains some fake
breasts that stand up rather perkily. If I hadn't seen the whole
thing progress, I could easily believe that this was a real girl.
Even more than that, a very sexy girl. The thought of being such a
sexy girl is almost too much for me. I am at work after all, and
there are other people in the store. Who are these women and why did
they choose me? If they did choose me, after all I am only seeing
some pictures. It's not like I really lived through this
transformation. But, I realize as I look at the images, the thought
of being that sexy...
I turn to the next image, and there I am in the sexy suit, but with
a pair of spiked heels added to the mix. God, do they look like
they'd be painful. Fortunately (I guess) I am kneeling down in front
of the dominatrix. Kneeling down right next to me is the blonde girl,
we form a matching pair. The dominatrix has taken her crop and placed
it onto my shoulder, as if she is a Queen knighting a loyal subject.
I feel an odd sense of pride looking at this image, but press on to
the next one.
In the final image, the blonde girl and I are entwined in a kiss.
The dominatrix looks on with a laugh. I find this last image somewhat
puzzling, although kissing that girl seems like a reward well worth
waiting for. Why is she laughing? Is she just happy to have found a
new... a new what? slave? plaything? And is that plaything really me?
What could any of this mean? I flick to the next, but that's the end
of the pictures, the rest of the roll is perfectly blank. Damn, and I
really want to know what happens next. Of course, I want to know how
this is possible at all, where did these images come from? Is this
some elaborate staging? An alternative universe?
I look up, somewhat sheepishly since I have the feeling that I have
done something naughty. I haven't though, I just did my job. And
there wasn't anything really objectionable in the images... well,
aside from the fact that I had the starring role. I spend the rest of
the day with my thoughts in a whirl, no matter what, I can't get the
images out of my mind. Particularly of how gorgeous I looked at the
end of the process, and how pretty the blonde girl was, and... ok, I
can't get any of the images out of my mind.
The outside mundanity of the drug store conflicts with the
revelations I am experiencing. I wonder if this is insanity, but
outside of the images, now safely developed and placed in their
little bag, everything is the same. Ok, there's one other thing
changed. Me. I am now seriously wondering what it would be like to
have that experience, to be transformed into a sexy girl, to be
collared.
Are these thoughts my own? I have previously thought about such
matters, but they didn't seem compelling before. Now, it's really all
I can think about as I pass my day. Every time someone enters the
door, I look to see if it is her. What will I do when she returns? I
can try to give her the same impersonal courtesy I give all my
customers, but she gave those image to me for a purpose. She exposed
a part of herself to me in doing so, she must have a plan. At least
in my heart, I hope that she has a plan. She has revealed something
to me, and even though I don't know what it is yet, I know I want
more.
The door opens again and it is she. As I look at her, I find that I
cannot maintain eye contact. I don't have to, somehow she has no need
for words. She has opened up something inside of me, something that
she must have known was there. She walks with her regal manner over
to my counter, picks up the envelope and starts to rummage through
her purse for change. The utter banality of the deal is almost too
much to bear and I want to scream out at her "Why? Why are you doing
this to me?", but she simply counts out the money and hands me a wad
of bills before turning around and walking away.
I feel like my life is walking away from me, I stand there dumbly
holding the money in my hand, squeezing it absent-mindedly in what
feels like despair. I realize that the money in my hand feels wrong,
so I look down. Stuffed between the bills is a calling card. It
contains no name, simply an address located nearby and the words
"8:00 tonight, do not be late".
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