Spellbound Beauty My Manager Part 2
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Spellbound - Part Three free porn video
[Note: This is another story written long ago, and forwarded to my by
my French friend Avaro. For those who remember, C.C. created the world
of Clinton Crayle. He asked me to write a story in a Raymond Chandler
hard-bitten detective style, and this is it. So enjoy. And for the
details on the whole "She-Devil" thing, check the reviews. TOXIS.]
Spellbound - Part Three
by
TOXIS
I struggled with my bra. I hated having such big tits. Everything had
to be planned around them. Out of the shower, the first thing to do
after I was dry was trap them in one of my wired harnesses.
Dr. Troy wasn't making this easy. I was a 44D-19-40, pure tits and ass.
Somehow, a new and improved dose of M- X had feminized me, far more
than ever before. It had reduced me in size from a little under 5', 8"
to just over five foot. My hair reached my ass in thick full waves. It
took me nearly an hour just to blow it dry and put it in hot curlers.
My girdle was the old fashioned Fifties stretchy rubber kind. I wiggled
and yanked it up over my hips. I clipped on my seamed hose and stepped
into the four inch heels. My feet were so small that I felt on tiptoe.
My dress was in a loud floral, cheap and poorly fitted.
I put on my make up quickly. It was cheap dime store stuff and glasses
that made me look owlish and shy. I picked up my suitcase, filled with
more of the same and some dog-earred potboiler romances.
As we rode into town, Dr. Troy gave me my last instructions.
"Now, Ida Mae," she started. I was Ida Mae Muckenburg, of Minot, North
Dakota. There was all sorts of identification in my purse. There was
even a 4-H membership. "When you get off the bus, wander around the
terminal a little. Look lost. Let them come to you. Let them talk you
into the dancing contract and, above all, let them introduce you to
Tommy Mirra."
Dr. Troy wasn't taking any chances. She didn't want me letting slip who
I really was. So now, I can't help but be Ida Mae, a shy, farm girl
with stars in her eyes and the body of a centerfold. One of my sources
was the owner of a series of topless bars, who had hired several of Dr.
Troy's "finished" products.
Silly, simple Ida Mae was bait for the nymphet gobblers that infest the
bus terminal of the City of the Angels. Promisors of fame and fortune
and producers of beaver shots and cum- a-ramas.
"Yes, Dr. Troy. I will." I was very sweetly spoken now. My professional
toughness was hanging inside my professional suit. "And one last thing,
Ida Mae, when you are on stage, when everyone is staring at you, how
will you feel?"
"Naughty, I'll feel like a naughty girl. And I'll want to be punished
for being naughty."
"How will you be punished, Ida?"
"I'll be spanked and clothes pins will be put on my nipples and I'll
have to do really degrading things to show how low I've become." This
all sounded so naive, so juvenile. I believed every word of it.
I minced around the terminal. Creeps were on me like lice. I waited,
kept saying no until one thug mentioned the famous theatrical agent
Tony Mirra. I let myself get wide- eyed. Let myself, Hell! I was wide-
eyed. Or Ida Mae from Minot was.
I walked up and down the promenade. I was very nervous. After all, a
farm girl never gets a chance to be looked at by men like this. And
here I was in Hollywood. Please, Mr. Mirra, make me a star! I couldn't
keep Troy's brainwashing out of my head. I started to swing my hips a
little.
"Ginger, get up there and help the little lady out." Ginger was a gum-
snapping, bleach blonde in a microscopic g-string. She started to take
off my dress.
"Oh, please don't .. it's just so ... Ginger gave me a little wink.
"Don't worry, Baby, Tony knows how to treat a girl." I let her take my
dress. I felt so naked in my lingerie.
"Christ, look at that. I haven't seen a girdle like that since my
mother. Ginger get that thing off this lovely young lady and that bra
too. It's got to go." I tried to cover myself. All I had on were my
shoes.
How many men were looking at me? Ten? Fifteen? The room seemed full
of them. "Take a walk for me, baby." I started down the ramp. In my
heels, I had to use my arms for balance and everyone could see my
bareness. A couple of the guys started to hoot and yell. I was too
embarrassed to look at them. I tried to look straight ahead. Is this
what girls have to do to be movie stars? You hear so many stories.
I started to really swing my hips. And I put a little bounce in my
step. I could feel the tug on my chest as my big boobs began to bob.
The crowd was getting into my show. Soon, I was standing spread legged,
head down looking back at the boys, rubbing my pussy.
Oh yes, one thing new about the M-X. Before, I would wear a latex cover
that let me pass for female without serious surgery. This dose had made
my scrotum retract somehow into my groin. There was a deep fissure up
into my body and my penis had shrunk and migrated to mimic a clitoris.
From the outside, it looked and felt perfectly natural. I guess the
plumbing still worked because I still could pee and as I slipped my
finger inside me, I could feel myself getting wet. Wet with what?
"Come over here, Honey." I stood obediently by Mr. Mirra, the famous
producer. "Let's get you a new name. Ida Mae Muckenburg, huh?" He
scratched his head for a moment. "Mimi Enberg! Not too different, eh.
Like it, Mimi." My big smile said that I did.
"You looked pretty good up there. Lots of talent. But there's one more
audition. Feel like showing us your acting ability." Get me out of
this, Dr. Troy! I can see what's coming even if that farm child Ida Mae
can't.
"Oh, I'd love to", I gushed. I had a prick in each hand, one in my
mouth and the last fucking me from behind. Ginger was taking shots with
an expensive 35mm camera. The guy to the right came and I leaned over
to catch his cum. Back at work, dead ahead, another prick was put in my
right hand and I started pumping. "More head bobbing, Mimi. Really bob
your head." I plunged my face down on the monster in my mouth. Ginger
popped off a few more close- ups. I hollowed out my cheeks, sucking
away, just: like Ginger had told me would look so sexy on film. Tony
had me sandwiched, cunt and ass, mouth and cunt, ass and mouth. I posed
for beaver and rim shots and did a whole series of cumshots on my face
and tits.
"Nice session, Mimi. How do you feel?" I could feel the switch being
thrown in my head. I wanted to say anything but what came out of my
mouth. "I feel naughty. Like I should be punished."
Tony obliged me, of course, with lots of clothes pins on my tits, pins
on my vagina lips and even a few on my ears, nose and mouth. It hurt
like Hell! Docilely, I stood in the corner of his office, a foolish and
obscene decoration, waiting patiently while my contract was being
prepared.
I inspected myself in the mirror. Ginger had been put in charge of me.
I had to do everything she said. Mr. Mirra had said so. How was I going
to find the photos he had kept of Dr. Troy's victims with this bitch
watching my every move? And besides, it was humiliating being made to
look and act like her big doll.
My brunette hair was platinum blonde now, like hers and teased into a
towering mane. Too vivid, too done, too hard, too made over. My breasts
jutted over a red latex waist cinch. A tiny band of rubber covered my
sex and left me decent enough to perform in public. I was wearing five,
inch heels, the highest I could manage without a platform sole.
I was working a six to two. Six P.M. to 2 A.M., when the place closed.
This was the hard shift. When you were done dancing, you started
turning tricks. Maybe if I picked the right John, .a real drunk, I
might get him to pass out and I could slip away.
I kept beat with the music and tried to size up the crowd. The Ida Mae
in me was getting turned on by the horny crowd. I worked with that but
tried to keep my head clear. Too often I lost who I really was and woke
up, disgusted in soiled sheets.
There was one guy who was ordering between rounds. One with the boys,
one by himself only. A shot and a beer drinker. Should be pretty loaded
in an hour. I writhed against the pole, caught my tits and wrapped them
around the metal, made the nipples touch. Always a crowd pleaser. I had
his attention. I ran a finger inside my crotch strip.
A flick of the wrist, just a slight motion. Flashed! I could get
arrested if I got caught but it was worth the risk. I could see his
eyes widen, drunk as he had to be, when he caught a glimpse of my
shaved pussy. Just to make sure, I flashed him again.
If he didn't get the message now, he was too drunk to ever get
upstairs. Between sets, my targeted bedmate came over.
"Love the way you dance, Sugar. Love what you show. Can I party with
you?" Ginger handled finances. Fine, I was set to make my move.
Earl White drove semi's. He had been on the road for six weeks, was
drunk as a skunk and weighed a ton. I wrestled him into bed and let him
pass out. Perfect. Maybe an hour before anyone checked on me.
I slipped down the hall and click- heeled my way down the steps.
Mirra's office was across from the second floor landing. Not there,
he'd never be so obvious. I thought about it. This is your savings,
your nest egg. Where do you put the film so that you can get to it fast
-- in case of fire or the unannounced arrival of federal agents?
There was a fire escape. It came off a small room at the opposite end
of the hall. The room was empty save for a power supply box, locked
with a small combination lock. Who locks power supplies? I started
running combinations. Tony put it on and never reset the tumblers. It
opened at 1-1-1. A real safecracker, I was.
Inside were cans of 35mm film. Lots of cans. As quickly as I could I
searched through looking for the film on the four Troy victims Mirra
had photographed. The first three were quick, the third took a moment
more. I spent five minutes looking for the fourth. I was about to close
up when I noted one more black plastic can of film on Mirra's desk. I
looked at the label. It was me!
I switched film with another can. How to get these out? I couldn't be
seen with film in my hands. I wasn't going to fit any of this under my
clothes. I wasn't wearing any. No pockets. Nowhere to hide anything.
I thought of one place, or better put, Ida Mae did. I took one
container and wedged it bottom first into my vagina. It was dry so I
popped it in my mouth to get some lubrication. I worked it in, painful
as it was, and took the second. And the third. And the fourth and
fifth.
I was completely stuffed. Not that bigger things hadn't been shoved in
there recently, all to Ida Mae's burning delight. But it was the way
the cans could tilt as I moved, the way the lids were like little
ridges.
It felt so odd. I looked in the mirror. So long as no one tried to fuck
me, I might pull this off. "Mimi, could you come here please." Ginger
was starting to get pissed. She had seen me coming down to the Main
Floor.
"Where's your customer?" Ginger looked off to the left. One of the
bouncers started to walk over. I was going to get punished. Unless I
talked very fast.
"Ginger, the creep is passed out up there. I already got his money. I
thought I might double up and do a quickie before he ever comes to."
She gave the cutoff sign and pulled me down the hall.
"Listen, I've got a guy who wants to take a girl to a club in West
Hollywood. He's got a special outfit he brought and everything. He
mentioned you. If you want it, it's five hundred and a night off. But
it's going to be very kinky." Ginger looked me in the eye. "Up to you,
what are you going to do?"
I played coy but Ida Mae was starting to get out of hand. Those film
cans were driving her crazy. "Sure, I'd love to do it." How strange
could it be?
I rolled the black latex pants up like a pair of stockings and started
to work them up over my nasty fishnet stockings. I'm a Size Six petite
in anything knit and these were a Size Two. By mid-thigh, I was
struggling.
I got them to the tops of my thighs but I was exhausted. My feet were
sort of numb from lack .of circulation. But I had to wear this stuff to
get the trick.
To get them over 'my hips I had to squat. Doing that pulled the crotch
up tight. It wasn't too bad until I stood up. I could see in the mirror
that I was covered with wet black rubber from the waist down. But
inside! The tight rubber held my groin in an iron grip. The cans were
pushed deeper into me and the compression made me feel their every
twitch.
There was a red hard rubber bustier that was more like a breastplate.
Long rubber gloves, rubber stiletto heels, even a big latex bow to hold
my hair up in a pony tail. Ginger pushed a couple of sticks of gum in
my mouth and a few more in my cleavage.
Popping my gum, I met my ticket out. He was a little bald twerp, pot-
bellied and loud. His hands were on my ass from the minute .I was close
enough to reach. "Bend down here, Angel, I've got something for you."
Son-of-a-bitch! He sprayed something in my eyes and now I can't see.
Everything's a blur! "Don't want you seeing too much. Don't want you
causing problems." How was I going to escape when I was nearly blind?
He had me at the end of the bar. I stared vacantly into space, my hand
rubbing his crotch. I guess people watched in amazement, wondering how
this dork could get a wet dream like me fawning over him. Time for a
nature call.
"Baby, I've got to pee. Can I go? I'll be right back." Sure I'll be
back. Hold your breath on that one. "Okay but don't be too long." I
met a stud coming out of the Men's room. It was a piece of cake. I just
let Ida Mae loose.
In a few moments, I was in a fast car, my face buried in his lap. Near
Wilshire, I jumped out, leaving his dick hanging. He wasn't chasing me
like that. Squinting, I called Dr. Troy and told her where I was. She
found me, or should I say, Ida Mae in an alley by the phone, turning
one last trick. Disgusting, but' Ida Mae never stopped cumming.
Jerri
- 04.02.2023
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