Piano Man
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A Piano Maid free porn video
A Piano Maid
The first sensation to return to Chris was a slow, deep throb in the
back of his neck. Each breath hurt, but the pain was neither sharp nor
overwhelming. His neck also had a full range of motion, which in a
semi-conscious way he recognized as he rotated it in a circle. In his
dizzied state, he was still certain somebody had knocked him
unconscious.
The second sensation to come to Chris's attention was the ache in his
crotch. In his muddled state, he couldn't pinpoint where the feeling
originated from, but it was most intense around his testicles and the
flesh immediately beneath them. They clung tightly to his body, as they
tended to do when it was extremely cold or when he was about to cum--but
the sensation was neither frigid nor orgasmic. He was mildly aroused by
it, as he was mildly aroused by most sensations down there, but aside
from that, it was just uncomfortably tense.
His vision returned slowly, first as a blur of dark browns and whites,
then as an ever-clarifying image: his wrists handcuffed to the leg of a
grand piano. He struggled to remember how this happened, but his last
clear memory was of delivering a package to a mansion in Westlake Hills.
There were snippets of him carrying it inside, winding through an
expanse of foyers and halls. But what led to this, he couldn't recall.
The tightness in his crotch was getting unbearable. His testicles
dimpled the flesh beneath them, pushing harder every second. A peculiar
tingle spread through the area, as though he had somehow poured
Champaign directly into his flesh. Just when the tension couldn't grow
any worse, he felt an unfamiliar pop--like a hardboiled egg being pushed
through Jell-O. Moments later his testicle was worming its way through
his gut. He felt the other one slide inside, tugged by muscles he never
knew he had. They pulled it hungrily inside of him, and he was reminded
of the catharsis of a good shit, only this was intense enough to
momentarily and orgasmicly shatter his thoughts.
He turned his head to see what the hell was happening to him and was
shocked to see himself dressed in a maid's uniform. It was all black,
with white lace around the hem of the neck and sleeves. The skirt was
short and ruffled, its many layers of lace puffing out like a hen's
tail. Beyond it he saw two richly dressed men staring at his ass.
"What's happening to me?" he cried out. They ignored him, not even
flinching at his outburst. Instead the younger one nudged the older--a
trim gentleman with fine, grey hair--and commented about something
quietly. Chris couldn't hear a single word, and growled at them.
"Answer me, dammit! What are you doing to me?" They continued ignoring
him, and Chris's neck--already sore from god knows what--began to cramp.
He turned back to face the piano leg, pulling fiercely at his handcuffs.
The piano slid a little, but to no avail.
Deep in his gut, he felt his testicles nestling against his hips. They
sparkled with the feeling of Champaign, and the sensation oddly aroused
him. His penis twitched wildly inside his silk lingerie, and that
feeling aroused him, too. Reflexively he ground his hips into the bear
rug beneath him to get some friction. Almost immediately a heavy load
shot up his cock. He expected a big mess, and surely enough he was
rewarded with a powerful orgasm that forced him to catch his breath.
But that was it. Not a single drop of cum.
His penis continued to twitch like he was ejaculating, but instead of
erupting, it began to shrink. He wasn't sure what was happening, but
with mounting horror he realized that his once proud seven inches of
cock was diminishing to a plump thumb. The whole length of it was
growing smooth and sensitive, and as it retracted along his silk
lingerie he shuddered with uncontrollable pleasure. With disgust he
noticed that it was now the size of a mini-wiener, something you'd buy
in a can, and in the next moment, it had retracted almost completely
into his crotch. Only a tiny nub remaining erect on the surface.
As it settled into place, he cursed wildly--fully aware now that his
body was being remodeled to fit this damn uniform. His scrotum shifted
restlessly and folded into thick labia lips. Somewhere deep inside him
a urinary tract slid out of it moorings and burrowed a new hole into his
vagina. His cheeks burned with rage and shame. In the midst of that a
mounting tension in his lower back forced him to wiggle his hips. After
a moment's effort they popped soothingly, and his testicles--now deep
inside him--shifted. The Champaign feeling was fading, and it dawned on
him that in the most vital ways, he was now fully a woman.
The tension in his back returned, and he popped his hips again and
again. It occurred to him that each time he did this, his skirt got a
little tighter. In spite of the pain, he bent his neck to watch and saw
that his hips were growing at an astonishing rate. He resisted the urge
to pop them for several seconds, then the feeling became unbearable and-
-assuring himself that this was the last time--he stretched his hips
again. The relief was extraordinary, yet after holding back so long the
effects were especially strong and he felt his hips spreading across the
floor.
At the same time the muscles in his ass were melting like butter and
expanding into layers of fat. The feeling was almost soothing, which
horrified him the most. He tried resisting it by flexing his glutes,
but the sensation kneaded its way into his muscles until he relaxed into
his transformation again. Behind him his skirt rapidly bubbled up and
he heard the older gentleman comment, "Well, at least she has a cute
butt."
The younger man shook his head. "Oh, this is only the beginning."
And surely enough, it was. Chris had been an avid cyclist, and there
was a lot of muscle to transform to fat. His ass was growing at an
embarrassing rate, and as it grew, it pushed the hard ruffles of his
skirt up. He could feel the air on it and realized that the two men
were staring straight up his skirt with lustful fascination. He tried
shifting his position so they could no longer see, but his body was
unfamiliar to him now and he couldn't coordinate its movements.
He realized suddenly that he was popping his hips again, which had
already spread to womanly proportions. His ovaries nestled deep inside,
where they began producing eggs and preparing him for his new sexual
role. The idea infuriated him, and he tugged fruitlessly on his
handcuffs. Deep inside his ass he felt the final layers of muscle
melting into fat, giving him such a bountiful behind that it peeked just
beneath the hem of his skirt. One of the men whistled appreciatively.
While he had been focusing on the embarrassing changes in his ass, Chris
failed to notice how his thighs underwent the same transformation. Once
they had been hard as steel from regular cycling adventures. Now they
were softening and growing thick. When he moved them, fat swayed gently
like trees in a breeze. Strangest of all, they were so thick that they
rubbed against each other, even when he wasn't trying to squeeze them
together. With some effort he managed to lift one leg and examine it.
It was as shapely and feminine as his hips and ass, and his very male
brain wanted to fuck the woman they belonged to.
That thought made him queasy. The men behind him were talking quietly
to each other, and he could tell they were pleased. That thought just
upset him more. The last thing he wanted was to please those assholes.
"Unlock me!" he yelled to them, fully aware that his plea was useless.
The sickness is his stomach was becoming a tightness in his waist. His
belly had always been flat and at one point he even had a six pack. Now
he felt the few pockets of flesh there fleeing up his torso. He didn't
have to turn his head to know he now had a waspish waist. It was
already tiny, and next to his ripe ass he was certain middle school boy
would drool. Odds are, he would have drooled to. He was thankful there
were no mirrors within eyeshot. He would have been freakish anyway,
with his voluptuous bottom and manly top.
Even that wouldn't last long, though. He felt the transformation making
its way up his torso, softening his skin and smoothing away hairs. With
anxious anticipation he felt the wave wash over his nipples. In dread
he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at his chest. Like
the rest of his uniform, the bodice was black with white lace trimming.
It was low-cut to expose cleavage that wasn't there yet, and beneath it
was a silky piece of lingerie. Both were designed for generously
endowed women.
His nipples were rock hard now, and the hair around them had fallen out
and lay beneath him like a swarm of dead flies. The skin on his chest
had grown smooth and feminine when the transformation washed over his
torso. Beneath his skin, he felt his ribs cracking and shrinking, a
powerful and invisible force squeezing him into a new, delicate shape.
In moments, his chest had become girlishly thin. The sight of it made
him feel incredibly vulnerable.
Meanwhile slight bumps developed beneath his nipples. They were hard as
marbles and throbbed tenderly as he breathed. In an effort to stop
their growth, he flexed his waning pecks. It did nothing to help.
Instead his pecks slowly dissolved and the hard marbles tripled in size.
At first they clung tightly to his chest and even seemed like muscle.
Yet as they drew in more of his real muscle, something about them became
distinctly buxom. They hung from his chest like plumb-sized utters,
their nipples as big as silver dollars. With horror, the reality of his
situation dawned on him: he was blossoming.
His shoulders began to cave in the same way his chest had, and he felt
the excess flesh moving into his breasts to fuel the metamorphosis. His
arms were getting weak, too, and his biceps shook from the effort of
holding himself up. He glanced at them, now as thin as a girl's, their
definition faded beneath a soft layer of fat. In another moment he
collapsed to the ground, his face planted in the bear rug, his arms
still outstretched and latched to the piano leg.
Beneath him he felt his bosom filling. At first it was small enough to
flatten beneath his weight, but as his breasts developed, they began to
lift him up. At the same time his nipples rubbed against the silk of
his lingerie, and in spite of himself he felt warmth flood his vagina.
He didn't want to be aroused by his growing mammaries, but their
tenderness slowly transformed into a sensual throb. Reflexively he
grounded his chest into the rug to stimulate his breasts and as the
feeling grew, he could barely contain a moan.
With great effort he propped himself back up by his elbows. His arms
quivered, and his breasts hung heavily beneath him like two ripe
grapefruit. He hoped the transformation was over, but felt more blood
and fat worming through his arteries to fill them. Unsure if he really
wanted to confront what was happening to him, he gazed down at his
cleavage anyway. His two breasts hung there, more generous and heavy
than he had feared--yet if his bodice was any indication, they still had
room to grow. With every breath their soft flesh rose and fell. Half-
aroused but mostly disgusted, he collapsed back to the rug. Within
moments he was grinding his breasts into the rug again and moaning
quietly.
All the while he continued to struggle against his handcuffs, and to his
sudden surprise, his hands were able to squeeze through. He pulled them
down and looked in wonder at the damage. His fingers had grown long and
delicate, his palms as tiny as a girl's. While he stared his
fingernails extended like well-polished claws.
With some effort he managed to sit up and lean against the piano leg.
Any attempt to run away was out of the question, his body still largely
out of his control. The men across from him watched him admiringly, and
the older of the two stared wolfishly at his cleavage. Chris turned his
own gaze down to those generous mammaries, and was struck by the memory
of his high school girlfriend. She'd had C-cup breasts, and these were
easily that large. He folded his hands over the cleavage to shield it
from the men's eyes, and beneath his palms they felt firm and warm.
The metamorphosis continued up his neck, briefly squeezing his throat,
then spread frightfully across his face. His jaw cracked several times
as it shrunk to a suitable feminine size. His lips puffed up, and
inside his mouth his teeth and tongue shrank so that from then on, he
would only be able to take dainty bites. At the same time he felt his
nose thin and turn up at the tip, while his eye-lashes grew and tickled
the skin around them. With great effort he pulled himself up and leaned
against the piano. Although he swayed a little, he was getting used to
his new body. The younger man nudged his companion and commented, "The
best is about to come."
Not far away he saw a mirror hanging at eye level. Using his hands to
hold himself up, he inched along the wall. All the while he felt his
crew cut sprouting across his head. When he got to the mirror, he
gasped with a porn-stars sultry voice. His blonde hair had turned jet
black and fell stylishly across his face. His lips were lush and pouty,
and his eyes had become brown and round as a frightened doe's. He
turned his gaze down at his generous cleavage, which rose and fell with
every breath like a living animal. Beneath them his thighs shot out
from his skirt with such a rounded voluptuousness that he felt his
crotch grow warm.
He turned his gaze back to the reflection, which had only grown more
helplessly feminine in the seconds he'd looked away. He stared
disgustedly at it, but in the next moment his gaze shifted to a messy
pile of papers. He saw it clearly in the reflection, and it annoyed him
in a visceral way messes never had before. A part of him wanted to
focus on his metamorphosis, but as absurd as it seemed, he had to
straighten those papers before he could concentrate again.
He turned around and walked over to the desk, casting a hateful glance
at the two men as he passed by. His body was still unfamiliar, but he
was getting used to it. Behind him his ass swung like a giant pendulum.
This realization filled him with a mixture of disgust and pride.
The papers were easily straightened, but as he corrected them he noticed
a thin layer of dust along the rim of the desk. He scanned the room,
looking for a rag to clean it with, and was delighted to see an actual
feather duster. Walking with his newly developed sway, he retrieved it
and promptly started sweeping. To reach one far-away spot, he had to
lean over the desk. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the men peering
up his skirt again, and instinctively he tilted his ass to give them a
better look. When he realized what he was doing, he quickly stood up
and turned to face them. "Don't you know it's impolite to stare at a
lady!" he shouted, unconcerned that the lady in question was himself.
Very much to his surprise the older man responded, "You seemed to enjoy
it well enough."
He blushed in fury and confusion, and didn't know how to respond.
Instead his focus shifted to a beam over their heads which was covered
in cobwebs. Looking up several corners of the ceiling needed dusting
too, so he scooted a chair over and climbed up for a better reach.
Beneath him he knew the men continued to stare at his exposed ass, but
the indignity slowly melted away as a growing warmth spread through her
crotch.
As she passed by the men to walk to the next corner, she couldn't resist
eyeing their figures. She hadn't noticed before how well built the
younger one was, his chest a broad triangle over his narrow hips. The
older was handsome and refined, his grey hair neatly combed and his eyes
twinkling as they followed her figure. She didn't completely want to
act upon these feelings, but as she passed the older gentleman, she let
her fingers graze his waist. In spite of his age, it was remarkably
trim.
Between her legs the warmth was developing into a powerful craving.
Following an instinct she didn't entirely understand, she put the chair
back where it belonged and journeyed over to the bed to straighten the
covers. She let her hips swing in a wide, alluring arc as she
approached the bed. It didn't really need much straightening, and a
part of her was upset she was ignoring more pressing duties. But as she
leaned across it to tuck in the other side, she cast a look back at the
grey haired gentleman. Their gazes locked for a long moment, and
impulsively she arched her back--beckoning him with a clear view of her
ass. Teasingly she even swayed it in the air before returned her focus
to the bed.
Just as she was finishing the corner, she felt a hand take hold the side
of her ass. Behind her the grey haired man grunted approvingly as he
squeezed her flesh, and she felt a flutter of pride in her chest. When
his hand slowly stroked the side of her rounded thigh, she wanted
desperately for it to move across her whole body, to worship every
square inch of her ripe flesh. He seemed pleased, for sure, but instead
went straight for the warmth of her crotch. Without even realizing it
she was panting lightly and the tops of her breasts rolled in and out of
her bodice. Leaning for a better look, he smiled at that, too.
In another moment he was unbuttoning the crotch of her lingerie. She
lifted her hips like a cat in heat, giving him clear access. He quickly
obliged, and his rock hard shaft slid into her like a knife through warm
butter. Overwhelmed, she gasped with pleasure. His penis filled the
dark folds of her new sex, and she felt her vagina tightening around it
like a python consuming a mouse. With sudden certainty, she knew this
was what she wanted more than anything else.
The next several minutes were a blur of sensations. Heat flooded her
body, every square inch was infinitely sensitive. She felt his firm
grip on her hips like hands on a wide steering wheel and thrilled as the
silk of her lingerie rubbing against her erect nipples and her full
breasts ground into the mattress. Meanwhile her vagina contracted and
dilated with a mind of its own, shocking her with untold pleasures. She
tried to say how good this felt, but everything came out as a helpless,
lustful moan. Instead she submitted as he fucked her. She eagerly
accepted him as he ground his crotch under her heavy ass, pushing his
penis ever further into her cunt. She couldn't help but moan stupidly.
Every centimeter was another gasp of ecstasy, every grind another
orgasm.
Suddenly she felt him cum. His body quivered and he pushed himself
further into her. Deep inside her, she felt unfamiliar muscles spasm,
wracking her mind with incomprehensible pleasure. Girlish cries of
delight erupted from her as her uterus lapped up his seed. He ground
into her several more times, and then she collapsed, exhausted, on the
bed.
A few moments later she felt him pull out of her cunt, button up her
crotch, and pat her on the ass. "What a good girl she's become," he
commented with his deep, kind voice. A great warmth spread through her
body, until she felt like she was melting into the mattress. Her lips
spread in a broad, contented smile. When she finally got up again, both
the men were gone. Dreamily she noticed some dust on the mantle piece,
and straightening her uniform, she went to clean it.
Uma
- 25.03.2022
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- 0
