Erics Destiny
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And Your Enemies Closest! Aka Eric's Dilemma free porn video
ERIC'S DILEMMA
BY
TOXIS
The music kept the beat. The girls on the stage shimmied as best they
might in their stilted heels. Oddly, the audience was filled with women,
not men, and the dancers showed none of the exhibitionism linked with
topless dancers. The bulge in their g-strings looked a little too full.
Alexis wondered what that meant.
The back of Club MALES was dark, some booths filled with shadowy shapes
writhing in pleasure. In one, an anxious woman sat, pleading her case.
"I know you can help me, Kim said so."
Alexis brushed the platinum blonde curls out of her eyes and tried to
convince the Club's owner of her sincerity. Someone had to save Alexis
or God knows what would happen to her.
Two years ago Alexis Lane had been at the top of her class in business
school. Picked to go far, her mistake had been to fall for the
blandishments of Eric Katt. THE Eric Katt, Takeover King and Corporate
Raider Extraordinaire. Eric had promised Alexis exposure, a chance to
show what she had, to show she could stay on her toes. It could be
argued that Eric had kept his word, literally.
Alexis, or as she was known now, "Alli" Katt, found herself turned into a
blonde, busty "T & A", wet dream, prancing about in heels that indeed
kept her on tiptoe, scampering about in dresses that revealed just what
she had, and this exposure" had destroyed any hopes of a legitimate
career.
Why didn't she leave? Get a divorce and a chunk of his millions? Alexis
had tried but Eric never tried. He did! Alexis' mother was
institutionalized, a nervous breakdown. She had been making progress
toward normalcy. It was a delicate time and an uncertain process.
Alexis tried to visit as often as she could. Barbara Lane sat in
front of the vanity. Her body was sheathed in a red satin dress that
showed her breasts. Her hair was jet black and teased. In horror, from
the door, Alexis listened as the nurse insisted that Barbara's already
theatrical makeup needed to be touched up. Despite Alexis' angry
protests, Barbara never took her eyes from her reflection. The makeup
kept caking on. At the director's office, Alexis was put on the phone
with the owner, Eric of course. And dutifully, Alexis allowed herself to
become Alli Katt, prize trophy of the sexist, chauvinistic Mr. Katt.
"It could be done. It would be dangerous, but it could be done. What do
you have in mind and what are you offering in payment?" Lorna Reina
survived because she was careful.
It was one thing to take a man and degrade him with psuedo- femininity.
It could even happen to the well-known and mildly prominent. Celebrities
were a perfect example. A once famous rock star was now working as a
parlor maid - nothing French, long starched uniforms and sturdy shoes -
now after his involuntary stay at MALES.
The powerful were something else altogether. They could have plans laid,
loyal retainers charged with their rescue, scenarios pre-plotted to foil
the cleverest kidnappers. And if she were caught, Lorna had no illusions
of being arrested. A man like Eric
Katt would have her killed.
Still, it might be a particularly succulent challenge. Indeed, Eric's
bimbo wife was succulent herself. Alexis squirmed under Lorna's too
interested gaze. Her surgically augmented breasts swelled in all their
36-D grandeur from the cups of her rubber bustier. The matching latex
micro-mini molded everything and showed everything.
"If I am to do this ... First, I will be paid $10,000,000 in cash or cash
equivalent in U.S. dollars". Lorna announced.
"Second, I will make all plans for the adventure, and I will have
sole use and enjoyment of the project for six months after success."
"Third, after I am forced to relinquish my project, you will take its
place for six months."
A nice way to see if this overblown plaything was serious. It was one
thing to consign your abusive mate to subjugation, but quite another to
take his place as part of the fee.
Swallowing and red-faced, Alexis signed the necessary documents.
*********
The financial papers were full of the news. Eric Katt, a massive stroke!
Found collapsed at his Hampton estate by his wife. Alexis, newly coifed
and tastefully dressed, made several public statements expressing hope
but acknowledged that her husband's dire condition left little
expectation of a return to his affairs.
There was no opposition to Alexis as she took over her husband's empire.
Lawyers mopped up details, accountants audited the books and, once the
various executives who were handsomely paid to run Eric's empire were
assured that their positions were safe, no one thought much about Eric at
all.
*********
"Very good Eric. Please walk to the mirror and curtsey."
Eric teetered in his seven inch heels. His feet were arched "en point"
by the ballet boots. Carefully, he minced to the full length mirror and
executed a tremoring curtsey. A smile never left his face.
"Very nice indeed, Eric. Now show me your new steps."
Eric first shimmied his narrow hips in gentle circles. His arched back
jiggled the tiny titties on his chest. The limp penis at his crotch
bounced and jiggled ludicrously, already much diminished by the thrice
daily hormone dose.
"Now sing your song, Eric."
Embarrassed, he stammered in his now sweet feminine voice, "Watch me
dance. Watch me prance. I want to rub my ass on your pants."
"See me strut. I'm a slut. Watch me preen. I won't rest `til I taste
your cream." Near tears, leg muscles burning from their bizarre
exertion, Eric repeated his lewd ditty.
"Much better, my sweet thing. The tears were a nice touch. Now beg me to
give you an extra-big shot of girl juice. I want you to beg for titties,
big girl titties to flaunt for the boys."
Eric had first come to strapped to a hospital bed. Gagged, catheterized,
restrained, he laid there as one doctor after another visited, made notes
and left. No one paid any attention to his struggles. The nurses merely
kept him clean, exercised by massage, and fed. The doctors prodded and
checked but no one seemed to be doing anything.
The shots had started. First, one on the hour, followed by every other
hour. It had dropped off to one with every meal. His body seemed to
burn sometimes. He felt so hot! His nipples and his penis suffered an
excruciating irritation.
The mouth gag held two tubes in place. One carried water, the other a
gooey mush. Forced feeding kept his belly full, but a wide belt kept his
waist restricted and his back straight.
How long had he lain like that?
Days? No, it had been much longer. Weeks? Not enough. Had to have
been two months maybe more. The room had no window. Eric couldn't count
the days. Time lost its meaning as day and night became a function of
when he had last fallen asleep.
The doctors seemed satisfied. The straps were coming off. The gag was
out! Eric looked down and vomited.
Two shapely breasts hung heavily from his chest. Shapely indeed, he now
possessed magnificent 36-DD breasts. The nurses ignored the acrid
vomitus as they stood the patient up. Eric could see himself in the
mirror. More than breasts, he also had a very narrow waist and wide
hips. His skin was creamy and his hair had already grown out to below
his shoulders.
Perhaps as a cruel jest, nothing had been done to Eric's face. True, his
beard was gone, a centerfold body aside, his was a decidedly mannish
face, unattractive at best.
Alexis had been there when the doctor explained all the things that were
going to be done to Eric. A nose job, face lift, upper lip and cheek
implants, collagen injections, eye shaping, ear shaping, chemical skin
bleaching, capped teeth, and jaw reshaping.
They were going to start with the nose, lips, and eyes. Alexis was making
suggestions but the sedative was making it all too fuzzy for Eric to
follow.
"I don't want big lips, I don't ..."
*********
"Eric, see who's at the front door."
Eric gave a little shudder. He hated to have anyone look at him. But it
wasn't his place to complain. About anything! Giving his breasts a
hefty inward and upward shove, causing a deep cleavage to split his
chest, Eric wiggled in his heels to obey his mistress.
Oh no! It's the pool boy. Tanned and muscular, Todd from Poolz surveyed
the creature that answered the door. Her nationality intrigued him. Her
extremely long, curly hair, dark brown with red highlights, the
oversized, too generous mouth, the preposterously extravagant figure, all
suggested a Mediterranean background.
But the blunt nose suggested a black heritage, while the slanted eyes,
implied some oriental ancestry. A real mixed breed, this one. And crazy
mixed up also.
Eric knew what was expected. Cooing, he traced an inch long red
fingernail up the thickening mound in his vistor's pants. His skirt rode
up his thighs, letting the shrunken vestige of his penis, with its empty
scrotum, show through the lace of his panties.
While Todd cleaned the pool, Eric slowly stripped and bent over a pool
chair. His groans of ecstasy were only matched by the slurping of his
talented mouth as he licked his lover of the moment clean.
"Eric, I told you I wanted some facial cum shots. You swallowed this
time. Next time, I want you to hose your face with cum. Understand?"
Miserable and naked, Eric allowed Mistress Lorna to run a chain through
his cock ring and tie that useless member to the floor. Trapped on hands
and knees, he endured his whipping and remembered. That afternoon, the
mailman made a spectacular mess of his erotically confused features.
"So, where are we?" Gone was the blonde bimbo, Alli. In her place was
an assured young business woman, Alexis Lane Katt, firmly in control of
her husband's affairs and readying to strike out on her own.
Lorna Reina sat across from her client, relaxed. A large aluminum
suitcase was tucked be her feet. $10,000,000 in $20's, counted, and
paid. Business was business. First, get paid.
"As you can see, Mrs. Katt, substantial progress has been made."
Gesturing, Lorna called Eric up to the desk.
It all seemed familiar in some way. This office, the decorations, the
woman behind the desk. Eric couldn't remember how. In fact, he didn't
remember much, just what he had been taught.
"Mee nayhme ees E-reeh-kah. Berry eh-plees to meeh-ting juuh."
Eric smiled and curtseyed, that fact that his skirt was flashing glimpses
of his panties made no impression on him. He would expose much more at
the slightest gesture from his Mistress.
"Oh, that accent! Where did you come up with that?"
"Well, think of it as protective coloration. Someone might believe a
woman who claimed to be Eric Katt, forcibly feminized, if she sounded
like Eric, acted like Eric, and could make an impression like Eric
might."
"But if she looked like an erotic cartoon and talked like there should be
subtitles running past her when she opens her mouth, then tell me, who
would ever take such a ridiculous female seriously?"
"How much sexual experience has he had?"
"Nothing really. Routine sex with selected partners. Straight sex,
nothing too bizarre."
"Couldn't you maybe .. uh, you know, make him really freaky? Into rubber
or something? Bondage, and things like that?"
"Certainly, anything can be done at this point, but it will require my
time, which is, of course, only for sale."
"How much?"
"One Million, cash."
"Done. Now here's what I have in mind."
*********
Eric felt his vibrators click on. The strap running from the front of
his corset, back through his legs to buckle in the small of his back,
made removing them impossible. Feverishly, he rubbed his leather clad
hands over his bare breasts.
Hooking his thumbs through his nipple rings, he tugged the fat globes up
past his shoulders, seemingly to hang himself by his own udders. The
vibrations were building.
Dropping the nipple rings over a chromed hook on the wall, Eric slipped
the ping pong paddles from their holsters on his hips and began to spank
himself, deliberately, slowly, with increasing force.
Quickly, his jiggling ass reddened. The weight tied to his cock ring
bounced against his legs, tugging the flaccid organ, and threatening to
rip away the last relic of his manhood.
Faster, harder, jumping to put more strain on his tortured nipples, Eric
tried to beat the inexorable tick of the twin vibrators. He was there ..
nearly there .. almost, almost ...
A cruel shock of electricity jolted through his passages. The doctors
had given him a vagina. It could accommodate practically anything; cock,
dildo, even a fist! They had, however, left him a penis, now a sort of
gigantic clitoris. Eric had become a bisexed freak. The vicious lances
of electrical pain flowed freely from rectum to vagina and back, causing
Eric to twitch uncontrollably.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK, SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!
Mindlessly, Eric kept up the pummeling of his own ass until, overwhelmed
by sensation, his orgasm came. Roiling waves of pleasure, based in
terrible pain, blotted out any thought from his mind. His hands dropped
the paddles and ran up and down his corseted torso, the rubber sweat
slick under his fingers.
Seated at his makeup table, Eric repaired the damage. He had an hour to
be ready for another orgasm. The clock was already ticking. There was
barely enough time. If his makeup wasn't just right, if he wasn't
wearing the right clothes, if he didn't have on leather gloves to massage
his tits, or high heels, or any one of a myriad preconditioned things, he
couldn't cum. And, if he failed to cum, the shocks kept going.
For how long? He didn't know, but he had no desire to find out.
*********
"I want to escape."
Eric hadn't had such a thought in two years. For much of that time, he'd
forgotten who he was, that is, who he had been.
"Why had they refreshed all that?"
Eric knew that he had been Eric Katt, knew that he was now trapped in a
female body, that in reality he was male.
"Why tell me this?"
Eric had tried three times to leave. There were no locks on the doors.
Each time, he had never made it past the door of his room. First, it had
been a corset. Next, picking out the right dress. Now his makeup was
perfect but he just couldn't seem to get moving.
"I'll take it a step at a time."
Eric stepped into the hallway, just to see what was out there. It was
easier to do this by small steps. Down the hall to the stairwell. Down
the steps and out to the next floor. On to the elevator, down to the
ground floor. It was working, Eric was getting away.
Three men were standing by the front door. They were wearing leather.
Oh God! Eric could feel himself get wet. His tiny penis throbbed. Head
down, he tried to walk past. A strong hand turned him around and
calloused fingers dug his beasts out of his low-cut dress.
"Look what we have here boys, prime milk bags. Looks like she's ready to
go into heat. What do you say boys? You "Bulls" ready to service this
here heifer?"
Eric wanted to resist as they pulled his dress up and put him, on hands
and knees, on a table. Docilely, he serviced each in turn, front and
back, the smell of the leather and the bruising of their rough play
turning him on.
Cum splattered and disheveled, Eric watched them leave laughing. He was
Eric Katt inside, dammit he was and she, goddammit *HE*, could leave
whenever he wanted.
But not like this. My hair, my face! I must look a wreck. I'll just fix
myself up and then I'll go.
Eric tried the next day and every day after that for a month. He never
got out of the lobby.
*********
Alexis watched, amused, as Eric stood naked, surrounded by kinky fetish
gear. What to put on first? Lorna had said this would be the ultimate
demonstration.
Eric Katt, who once made decisions that affected millions, was now an all
tits and ass bimbo who couldn't decide whether to deck herself out in
sluttish rubber or kinky leather.
"Why don't you try the pink hot pants?" Alexis suggested.
Grateful that someone had broken the confusion that enveloped him, Eric
began the arduous process of squeezing his stout hips into the tiny
garment.
"He seems very domesticated, Lorna. I'm impressed."
"Does he meet to your satisfaction, both as to his original feminization
and his ... uh, how shall we say, ... custom modifications?"
"Lord yes! he's wilder than anything I ever dreamed of. All those
times Eric had my tits hanging out, fending off the hands of his drunken
buddies. Now he can enjoy the experience. Yes, he'll do just fine as
"Erica."
"I'm so glad you find him suitable. I have worked so hard. It's so
difficult, you know, to impose new behaviors, new attitudes, without
extinguishing the basic talents. Eric, for instance."
Lorna took out a cigarette, lit it, and continued.
"Eric has a natural talent for making money. Of course, that talent
needed to be harnessed and put to work for females. While it would be
nice for you to have Erica at your beck and call, it will be so much
nicer to have Eric making money for me."
Alexis tried to stand up. She was woozy, hot, and the room was spinning.
"I've made a few modifications of my own, you see. Eric, as Erica, is
going to be your assistant. He'll be running things while you're on
vacation. Quite smoothly, I'd bet. After all, it was his company."
Lorna stepped back to avoid Alexis' clawing fingers. Staggering, the
drugged female collapsed to her knees.
"Meanwhile, you have a debt to pay me. A very significant debt."
*********
The intercom. Her last meeting was cancelled. It was time to go home.
Alli and Eric minced in. Husband and wife were now identical twins.
There were a few improvements, of course. The accents were gone, as well
as the remains of Eric's manhood. It got in the way of business, but
their bustlines were stupendous. 40-FF's.
Impossible to support unless wearing well engineered foundations.
Watching the two enter was like seeing two cars from the fifties with
jutting headlights.
The intelligence was still there. It had to be to keep Lorna in touch
with her newly acquired empire. But there were other things. Alli
looked at her mistress with unbridled lust. The poor girl was now an
obsessive lesbian. Eric, on the other hand, was now an uncontrollable
slut. He couldn't keep his hands off any cock that came by.
MALES was throwing a dinner in Lorna's honor. It was going to be
interesting to see who got a bigger reaction from the crowd when they
danced - Alli or Eric. Each had a little song to sing and a dance to do.
There would be a live sex show including, even, an animal act. It would
be fitting somehow to see Eric Katt, the takeover king, being taken over
by a donkey.
There was a brothel in the hills north of Acapulco where the girls were
taught a sort of naked Flamenco. The pale, slim, Anglo girls, kidnapped
form the tourist beaches, were particularly humiliated by the lewd
costume and the heel pounding dance they were forced to learn. The beat
of the heels serving to drive the dildos they wore deep into their, soon
to be, well worn slits.
It might be fun to send my pair South for the season to take dancing
lessons. Lorna sat back and pictured it in her mind. The see-through,
triple tiered, skirts, their ponderously moving breasts, cries of "Ole!"
in the background. She picked up the phone and began to dial.
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