Baby I Can Drive My Car free porn video

Baby I Can Drive My Car Caterpillar Girl 'These bars always seem too bright under the lights,' I thought as my heeled feet dangled well off the floor. Memories of the tangled web that brought me to this personal hell played in the back of my mind, as they did every time I sat behind those bars. If only I had thought my plan through as thoroughly as I should have, I would still be a man or at least be a woman in a better position. I was born a man named Jim Dorn. I was a successful stock car racer for many years. I won my last race over three years ago, right before a car crash ended my career. I needed a metal plate in my spine and the doctor told me I couldn't race again. I would have given anything to get back onto the track, and I pretty much did. I still owned my own race team with Jerry, my business partner and fellow former driver. Money continued to pour in, but I knew I could make more with a greater celebrity behind the wheel. I had drivers who could win races, but they weren't celebrities outside of the industry. I watched Danica Patrick rake in money for being an average driver who just happened to be a woman. I was jealous of her owners. If she was a man named Dan, she would just be another average driver who could win on the occasion. However, the image of a female driver was commercial gold. I'd been searching for one of my own since she broke into the national consciousness. I would find my Danica in a girl named Laura Best. I first met Laura during a trip to Vegas. She was the type of stunning girl that you are not quick to forget. She was a short and petite blonde. She had B cup breasts that fit her slender frame. She caught my attention with her red halter top and white mini skirt, which showed off her wonderfully slender legs and slightly meaty rear. She was standing next to the bar when I walked up to it. She recognized me instantly. She told me how much she loved my sport and how sad she felt for me when she heard of my career ending injury. I thanked her for her concern and gave her an autograph and went on my way. I never thought that I would see her again after that, but when I returned to Vegas six months later, I saw her again in the same bar. She walked over to me and said hello. I responded in kind, but I had forgotten her name by that point. What I didn't know at that moment, besides her name, was how that night would change my life. I spoke with her for a good hour about the sport before she pulled me aside after I let it slip that I was trying to find my own Danica Patrick. She gave me an address in a little town far outside of Vegas. She told me that she would go with me there, if I wanted to go. I figured that she knew a driver at one of those whorehouses out in the middle of nowhere. I didn't think it would amount to nothing, but I figured I'd get a good lay out of it one or the other. I told her that I'd have to drive there, if she wanted to go with me. She smiled and just said, "Well, of course you will." I asked her why she seemed to trust me. She had after all agreed to a long car ride with basically a stranger that was a lot bigger than her. She said that I didn't concern her. I didn't know how to take that. I did like to think of myself as dangerous. Anyway, I decided that I would go with her to this far-off place. As we made the drive I asked, "What I'm looking for when we get near this place?" "Just a wood building," she said. "A wood building? Can you give me a little more detail?" I asked. She looked at me and this was her answer, "It's been weathered by the sand." She said that, like I wouldn't have figured that! I gave her a peeved look that she picked up on. "I know it by sight. I'll tell you where it is," she then added to placate me. I said I could go with that, but I said I had a question. "Shoot, baby," she responded. That baby part really got my attention, and I said, "Don't say that, I might get the wrong idea about you." Laura replied, "Well, I'm not taking you out there to fuck me." "Good, because I could have done it back at the hotel room," I answered. As she turned away from me and stared out the window, I asked what she was going to show me at this place. She said, "You'll see." I asked again, and she answered, "If I told you, you'd turn around now. And then, you'd never know what was really out there. She's everything you want." I asked, "Is this girl pretty?" She said, "You'll think she's pretty. I'm certain of that. Virtually all guys do." "How's her skills?" I asked. "She's among the best there ever were," Laura replied. She's going to remind fans of you behind the wheel. She then smiled and so did I. I was torn between whether she was serious about this female driver, or whether she was bringing me out here to fuck me away from a possible boyfriend or husband, or whether she was planning to kill me and steal my rental car. In my post-driving career, all three seemed to be fine ends to the trip. I turned up the stereo as we continued down the desolate road. Many miles later she pointed to this structure off the road. As we pulled up in front of the place, she pointed a side door on the wood building. We walked in together, and I saw a middle aged woman reading over a book. "Hello," I said. "Hi, what may I do for you?" she replied. "We're here for a body swap?" Laura answered. "A what?" I shouted aghast. Let me just say, that was not, what I expected to hear her say in the least. No prostitute, no driver, not even being killed by some psycho bitch with a gun. Instead the woman wanted me to believe that she had taken me to some sort of witch. I was getting ready to demand she put out on the ride back. My train of thought was disrupted when the woman asked, "You want to swap bodies?" "No!" I replied with a laugh. Let me tell you, I could not believe that I had driven that many damn miles to see some crackpot, desert housewife try to put some sort of spell on me. "You lead me to believe otherwise," Laura interjected. "How?" I asked. She then said, "You said you wanted a woman driver." "So..." I answered. She gave me a look of death as she put her hands on her hips and said, "I have good reaction time. I'm athletic, but I don't have your training. I'm the perfect vessel for your desired driver." "Yes, but I never wanted to be a woman!" I answered truthfully. I figured that would stop her in tracts and make her rethink her argument. Instead she said to me and the old lady, "Who said you did? But you do want be a driver again, don't you?" "I would kill to be one again," I answered. "Well, this is a little less extreme," she added. I shook my head at that statement. I would not classify losing my dick as less extreme than committing murder. There were plenty of things I'd kill for, and my dick was one of them. "Look, even if I would consider this, I would still know it's bullshit You can't change bodies with somebody," I declared. "Oh, yes you can," the middle aged woman interjected. I paused and looked at her and figured that I should humor the woman, because her answer would probably end up humoring me. So I asked, "How?" "A little magic, my boy," the woman responded. "Magic?" I asked for clarity with a laugh. "Maybe a demonstration is in order?" the woman asked. I nodded. She raised her hands and a boney finger was pointed in my direction. My smug smile was quickly turned into a grimace. I felt a tremor go through my body as the room grew around me. My suit turned into a pink dress. My socks elongated, and I felt the fabric changes as they went from black socks into white tights as they merged with my increasingly tight briefs. My black shoes became pink patent leather shoes. I looked up at the woman. My terror was immense. I shouted in a high pitched girlish scream, "What have you done to me?" "You wanted the demonstration, little girl," the woman answered and pointed towards a mirror on the wall. I caught a look at the five year old girl in the mirror, and knew that I was her based upon what I was wearing at the time. "Change me back," I implored. I saw Laura smile. I figured I must have looked like a petulant little girl making that remark, when a few moments prior I was just a smug middle aged guy dismissing the woman that had changed me off hand. She complied. My fear turned to relief once I saw my manly self in the mirror. "So what do you say?" Laura asked. "I don't know. This is so fast," I responded. I was a little hesitant to just go ahead and become a chick. I didn't know nothing about being one, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to know anything about it either." Laura just said, "Let's just do it." I shook my head and said, "I need a contract." "You think I'd screw you over?" she asked. "I don't know, but I won't do it without a contract," I answered. In truth, I was sure that she was planning to steal my body and live a comfortable life in it, while I was stuck doing whatever the hell job she did. I mean given her appearance, I'm sure I could con some dude into marrying me, but there was nothing more I didn't want to be than some dude's wife. "Fine, then let's get one," Laura replied to my request for a contract. I nodded and said goodbye to the woman. As I drove back towards Vegas, I made a call to Stan. Stan was an attorney I knew. I asked him to draw up a generous, but standard employment contract for a driver named Laura Best. I had full power to hire drivers for the race team, since Jerry wasn't that good at picking out talent. The only thing holding back that contract was my unwillingness to sign it. I was thinking about having it made it up, but not signing it even as I was making the call, but the more time that passed the more certain I was that I should go ahead with it. It was my best shot to get behind the wheel again and make some serious money. That was all that ever mattered to me, money and the driver's seat. I had put it before everything, family, god, country, and my fan base. To me ever thing came in second to the money going into my bank account and the feeling of my hands on the driver's wheel of a stock car. By the time we reached Stan's door, he had the contract ready for our signatures. I placed mine down and handed the document to Laura. She hastily placed her own signature on it. It was official. She was now signed to my racing team. Guaranteed the spot that one of my defecting drivers would soon vacate, and she was guaranteed money for the act. With the contract official, we made the long trip back to the witch. I was relieved that she was willing to come along. After the signing, I began to fear that she would insist on taking the wheel herself, and I'd have to buy out her contract to avoid being the laughing stock that hired some skank from Vegas on a whim. On the ride back I told her all about my plans. I'd use her small size to advantage myself with lower weight. I would sell her, well me, as a sex symbol after I experienced a little success. I would out do Danica Patrick, because I was going to be a great driver who just happened to be a woman. We arrived, and the witch did the swap. It was really only a blink and we were each other. Laura smiled at me as I clutched her breasts for confirmation of how I was really perceiving myself was in actuality true. I ran my hands down my new sides and reached my legs peaking out beneath my blue mini dress. I was every bit a girl from my long blonde hair to the black ballet flats on my feet. Laura reached into my, well, her wallet at that point. She paid the witch and dangled the keys. I followed her to the car. I went for the driver's seat, but she scoffed at me and said, "As far as the world is concerned, I'm a legendary driver and you're some unknown, so I get to drive us back." I nodded. I didn't want the embarrassment of having people seeing Jimmy Dorn being driven around by some girl. Even though I was no longer Jim, I was still protective of the legacy I created for myself. She drove us back as I got used to the ballet flats on my feet. I was surprised that they felt pretty good. Laura drove us to my hotel room. As we packed up the bags I had brought to Vegas, I felt an odd sensation. I relayed it to Laura who smiled and said, "That means you've have to tinkle." I replied, "Jim Dorn says piss, not tinkle." I then headed into the bathroom. I pulled up my dress before I realized what I was trying to do. 'Oh, balls,' I remember thinking. I hadn't really given a lot of thought to these lady parts I was not fitted with. I sat and forced it out, while holding the little string away from Laura's vagina like I had seen an ex do. I finished up by wiping myself like I'd seen that ex-girlfriend do too. I washed up, and we set up our travel arraignments. Laura called up my crew and told my employees of 'her' new find. I listened in, and they seemed less than enthusiastic. I picked up the vibe that they had this thought that old Jimmy Dorn had picked up some side show freak in his relentless pursuit of the almighty dollar. I knew I'd prove them wrong. We checked out of the hotel and then went to her apartment. She put together everything I would need in two suitcases. She said I would need to carry on her pocketbook, seeing as it was stocked with her tampons and other lady crap. I nodded and she led me back down to my car, and we headed for the airport. We took a plane late that afternoon and flew eastward. When we touched down, I directed her to my car and drove us back to the hotel that I always stayed at when I was in that town. I stayed at the hotel room I paid for with Laura. Laura volunteered to stay on the couch, while I got to keep my bed. Laura woke me the next morning and showered me down. It was not the most comfortable experience of my life having a man's hands scrubbing my soft body and running through my hair, but it was my body so that made it a little more tolerable. Laura patted me dry as I got out of the shower. I stood holding my towel up as she brushed my hair as she dried it and told me how lucky I was that I had naturally straight hair. I took her word for it. I doubted I would really care if my hair was curly. When she finished with my hair, she got my clothes. It was a simple, t-shirt and shorts combo to go along with her undergarments. She handed me the panties, which I put on. She then helped me with the bra. I put on the rest of her clothes myself. The shorts were a little short for my liking, but I had to go with what was in her wardrobe. She then put on my makeup for me. She instructed me on every detail, so I could do it when she wouldn't be available to do it for me. I watched carefully as she did it. I thought I looked a little trampy when she was done, but then again, both times I saw her she looked trampy, and that wasn't bad for business. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, the breakfast she ordered was at the door. We ate, and she grabbed my keys. I went for the door, but she held me up by grabbing my arm. I flinched a little, since she didn't know her own strength and the apparent weakness of my arm. "Here, Jim, I made you up this pocketbook with everything you'll need," Laura said while she handed me a huge, black, leather pocketbook that I had seen her throw into her suitcase the day before. I looked at her for a moment and asked, "A pocketbook? Do I look I need one at the track? I'm assured, I'm secure, and I'm no pussy." "You are now," Laura stated as a matter of fact. I shrugged and took the pocketbook. I figured she was a woman, she knew what women did. We then headed down to my car and towards our first professional day in the other's body. We arrived at the training facility at a little past 8 A.M. As I walked in beside, Laura I saw Jerry sizing me up. I whispered in Laura's ear, "That's Jerry you're business partner." Laura "introduced" me to Jerry as her new prot?g?. He was more than skeptical. He was in down right disbelief as he stared at me. Jerry could not see my talent at that moment. All he saw was a little slutty looking girl in hot pants. "Laura, can you excuse us," Jerry asked me as he pointed towards a room where our team usually met. I complied and walked into the other room. I stood by the doorway and heard shouts of insanity and about the brand that the Jim Dorn Race Team had built. Jerry lodged an accusation that this Laura Best was just a media stunt. Laura talked him down and brought him in to meet me. Laura and I followed Jerry down to where our crew was working on the car. They looked at me incredulously. They were quick to bite their tongues since 'Jim Dorn' had endorsed the little lady I seemed to be. Laura called the crew to attention. Laura looked at her new employees and said, "This is Laura. She's the new driver that I called you about." The crew cast skeptical looks at me. Although a few seemed to try to be nice, since I figured they thought I might go all the way with them. I smiled at them and said, "Let me show you what I can do before you judge me." Laura asked, "Is the vehicle ready for a drive?" The pit boss acknowledged that it was. The crew readied the vehicle as I left the track with Laura and got the special suit I had ordered with modifications for my team to make for Laura's body. I slipped into the suit and walked back towards the track as I carried my helmet. I slipped into the car and put the helmet on. The crew got into position. After I revved up the engines, I sped out of the pit. The pit chief was amazed at the time I was making. When I finished, I had converted the unbelievers. I smiled and winked at them and walked away. From the looks I got I was sure that they were impressed or at least a little horny. "Where did you find her?" I heard Jerry ask Laura. "My little secret," she responded. We trained a good three weeks, before my first race. I had my first period in that time, and let me tell you, the less said the better. It was vile, unpleasant, but it was part of who I had become. While I trained with the crew, I was perceived as some sort of joke on the race track. I heard men calling me from the grandstands with cat calls. I wanted to call out that I wasn't just some pretty little thing. I so wanted to shout back at them when one shouted that a woman's place wasn't behind a wheel. The hell it isn't. But I had a brand to build, so I shook my hips for those perverts. I knew how I would show them all what a woman could do behind the wheel. Many of my fellow racers believed that I had been given my position because of some sexual favors. In my time as Jim I was known as a bit of ladies man, but one that could easily be manipulated by beautiful women. I overheard comments about my former and current self and phrases like, "Back door Best." However, I knew how I was going to prove my worth to them, and it sure as hell was going to be on my back or knees. I put them on their asses when I beat them all for the pole positions during the time trials. Their disdain and jealously was replaced with wonder. I heard one say, "Where did an amateur learn to drive like that." I pretended not to hear and awaited the race day. The race day came, and I won the race. Disbelief was the word the commentators used to describe my performance. I celebrated as I exited my car. I was a major story on every newscast in the nation. I was the first female victor on the stock car circuit. The media wanted me in a way they had never had when I was constantly winning male driver. I got more exposure winning one race as a female than I ever did as a male. The next morning I was booked on one those morning talking shows based in New York. Me and Laura caught a flight up there that night. I showed up and got the royal treatment. Makeup crews worked on me before I went on stage with the shows female and male co-hosts, Roger and Mary. I soaked in the applause from the studio audience as Roger called me on to the stage. "So Laura, a lot of people want to know where you came from," Mary said to me after congratulating me for my victory. "Oh, no where special," I replied sheepishly. "Now, we have it here that you came from Vegas," Roger added. "Yes, I was there for a while." "Doing what?" Roger asked. "This and that," I answered. "Well, we looked into it. You were working as a showgirl to be exact," Mary responded. "More or less," I responded as I squirmed in my seat. I didn't know what Laura did before she met me. She had led me to believe that she was a student at one of the colleges there. "Well, how did you get into driving?" Roger asked. "Luck, I guess," I said. "I'm just asking because it seems odd that somebody from nowhere, with no driving experience would be hired by a major racing team and win their first race," Roger continued. "I understand that," I said as I crossed my legs. "I hate to come across as an inquisitor." "Oh, you're not. Don't worry," I replied with a smile hoping to melt him, so that he'd ask easier questions. "It's just that you're basically Roy Hobbs. Just some person that no one ever heard that comes from nowhere and is the best around," Roger continued. "Well, I wouldn't call myself the best. I only won one race," I replied faking modesty. "That's all the time, we have folks, thank you for tuning in and thank you, Ms. Best, for giving us this interview," Mary said. I thanked them and waited for the signal that I could remove the microphone from my blouse. I stood up and was attended to by network people and Laura. Laura arranged for a limo to my hotel. I thanked her and got in. I was tired from the whirlwind of travel, post race interview, and now this next day interview, and the continuing shock of gender realignment. I reached the hotel and went to my room to lie down. As I climbed into bed, I heard my cell phone ring. I picked it up and said, "Hello." "Laura," I heard Jerry utter. I could sense the franticness in his voice meant that there was bad news. "What?" I answered "You're on the news. Turn on channel 5!" I hurriedly turned on the TV and looked at the story. "Little Miss Race Car driver's Coke Bust," I shouted in horror. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" Jerry asked. "I forgot," I tried to explain. "How could you forget? You did time for it when you were 19!" "That was a few years ago," I said while I stomped my feet. "I got to go," Jerry said before he hung up. I put the phone down and stared around the hotel room. 'Why didn't I get a full history report on her?' I thought to myself. At that point I was still sure that it would blow over. I planned my speech, get teary eyed and plead youthful stupidity that I paid for greatly. As I planned out the press conference in my head, I heard bustling beneath my window. I looked out and saw media hordes descending upon the hotel. I knew they were for me, so I decided to try to see if there were any other surprises waiting for me. I picked up the phone and called Laura. "Laura," I said when I heard her say hello. "No, this is Jim," she replied. "All right fine, you're Jim. Now why didn't you tell me about your bust?" "I'm sorry, Laura. It must have escaped my mind." "Well, what are we going to do?" I asked. "I've got my team working on the PR move right now," Laura responded. "What are you going to do?" I asked again. "Don't worry, Jim. We're going to get through this," she said. I was beside myself. I replied, "We've got to get through this. Do you know how this going to hurt our brand?" "I know," she said. "When the brand hurts, Laura, well Jim, we both hurt," I said. "I know, Laura. I've got to go. I've got another call coming in about you from our PR guys. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." "Thanks, Jim," I answered to a click of the phone. I hung the phone up and turned the volume of the television up. I paced around my hotel room for the next couple of hours. I watched the news and kept seeing the story reappear. It seemed that there was no popular outrage. I was beginning to relax, when I heard a newsman declare, "Breaking News on the Laura Best situation. A sex tape has been released by her former boyfriend. Many in the industry are claiming that he's trying to capitalizing on the sudden fame of his former flame, but he claims he did it for her. Best's ex. a Mr. Joseph Riley, claims he's filling her fans in on her past that she has seemed to gloss over. The Dorn Race Team is set to make a statement about its prized racer in a few moments." I watched the news in silence as I waited for Laura to make the call to tell me what she was going to say. The call never came. As I watched the news, I saw a breaking bulletin, "Dorn Race Team to Address the Laura Best scandals momentarily." Suddenly the desk anchor started talking to one of the field reporters. The field reporter responded, "That's right, Tom, the Dorn Race Team leader, Jim Dorn, is set to speak at any moment on the scandal, oh and here, he is..." Laura walked up to the microphone and stood there for a moment before she spoke. She straightened her tie and said, "Good evening, ladies and gentleman. On behalf of the Dorn Race Team, I express my surprise and concern over these new revelations about our driver Laura Best. We extend our deepest sympathy's towards Laura and any support we may give her now in her hour of need. We know that she had demons in the past and that she has conquered them. However, in light of the new information, we cannot keep her on our payroll. We are a family organization, and we try to only employ family role models. Given her past indiscretions, we do not feel as if we can continue her employment at this time. We wish Ms. Best the best of luck in the future. Thank you" I stared at the screen with a slacked jaw for several moments before I collected my self and screamed, "That two timing bitch." I called her cell phone immediately. I saw her fidget with the phone before she started fielding questions from the media. "Jim, are you closing the door on ever employing her again?" a reporter asked. Laura shook her head and said, "No, we're not. We just don't think that enough time has elapsed for us to be certain that she has had a true change of character. She seems to have turned a corner in her life, but I worked to hard to possibly tarnish my brand further with someone of darker appetites." "Jim, have you seen the tape?" a reporter questioned. Laura responded, "No, I have not, and I have no comment on it until I see it. But let me be clear, if the tapes are as described I can only describe them as shameful and vile." Another reporter asked, "Jim, are you concerned that a rival team will employ her and reap the benefits from Laura?" "No, I can't begrudge my rivals and associates of that. It's a fair move that some may be willing to take," Laura responded. "How are you going about firing her?" a reporter asked "We've got a morality out clause in the contract," Laura answered. "Jim..." a number of reporters called out. "I'm sorry, no more questions at this time," Laura responded to the media throngs shouts. I watched her leave for an elevator, guards kept the media at bay. I watched her pull for her cell phone from her suit pocket. A few moments later, my phone rang. I heard in a solemn voice, "Hello, Laura." "Don't Laura me. We are so swapping back." "I don't know what you're talking about, Laura. I'm sorry that you're angry, and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before the news conference." "How could you?" "Laura, my PR people have informed me that your value to us is less than your liabilities. We wish all the best." "Don't you hang up on me," I screamed as I heard the phone click. I repeatedly called her back, but she wouldn't answer. I called others on the team, but they all went straight to voice mail. I cursed myself as I looked at the media throng still stationed on the street below me. I called a PR firm I had dealt with as Jim Dorn. They quickly took me on as a client and directed me to an agent to negotiate a new contract with another team. I called the agent's number, and he accepted me as a client. I began to relax as the rebuilding of my professional career began in earnests Two PR representatives came and saw me. They instructed me how to stand, talk, and what I was going to say and wear when I finally ventured out of my door. They were a real pain in my ass, but I knew that they were just trying to help me get through the situation that I had found myself in. As I got myself ready, the agent called me back to tell me how his fishing attempts had gone. I was less than enthused with his response. Only one team would hire me given my past indiscretions which were each less than 5 years old. He tried to sell me on the Rupert Race Team. The owner was a casino owner, and I knew the team focused on profit more than results even mores so than my team. They wanted a celebrity driver, and I would be that for them. However, there wasn't an open spot on the team for six months. I would have to wait to train with their crews when one of their driver's contracts expired. It was less than ideal, but I thought it was my only option. I asked for the terms, my agent read them to me. They were fair once I got to racing. I asked if I could get an advance. My agent responded, "No, I tried that. They came up with a different solution." "What?" I asked. "They want you as an attraction at their casino in Vegas?" "Okay, what would I have to do?" I cautiously enquired. "Normal stuff, photos, signings, and one other thing." "What's the other thing?" I questioned. "Given your past it's nothing," he answered. "Given my past?" I asked in a huff. The agent paused before he said, "Now, don't get upset, Ms. Best. They just want you to be in their showgirl set." "They want me to parade around stage in a showgirl's outfit?" I asked for clarity as my stomach knotted. "No. No. No. They just want you to emcee one of the shows they put on." "So they want me to parade around in a dress with a microphone," I asked for clarification. "No, nothing like that. They want you to walk around a stage in a bikini, heels and racing gloves. "What?" I shouted. "The casino and the team only agreed to hire you if you do this. It's really easy. You preen on the stage, flirt with some guys in the audience and playfully make fun of them. You know how to be alluring, Ms. Best. I've seen your video," the agent explained. "Why would they want me to do it?" I asked. "They think they can sell your whole little bad girl in a man's world image. Your new found notoriety will be good for their business. You're a potential sex symbol, Ms. Best, and having seen your video, the world knows you're a bit of minx." I almost wanted to vomit when I realized that my agent probably masturbated about me or thought or would think about me while he had sex with his wife or girlfriend. "Are you sure this is it?" I asked in desperation. "It's this or nothing on the circuit. The other race circuits don't want you either. It's really this or go to the bottom of the industry and try to work your way back up. There are no guarantees that you'd be able too, you know." I shook my head. I fought back tears of self pity, before I muttered "Tell them I'll take the deal." "Wonderful!" My manager responded. That's how I got were I am today. Sitting in an oversized bird cage on a swing. Swinging on a swing and waiting for the curtain to rise and the cage to be lowered to the stage. A female racer waiting to be undressed by men's eyes who long to get beneath her black and white checkered bikini. It's kind of what I wanted, but I never really wanted it for myself.