Spellbound Beauty My Manager Part 2
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Spellbound - Part Six 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 Six
by TOXIS
What do you do when the woman you love says that she doesn't want to be
your wife? I made her my secretary. Sarabeth holds down the fort, fends
off the creditors, calms the clients and, during my long and often
unexplained absences, believes that I'm coming back. Maybe that's the
hard part.
When I first saw her, I fell in love with her. I mooned after her in
clubs and bars. I went to the opera because she was there, never hearing
the music. Then I wasn't in love witt. her. I didn't follow her around
like a pimple faced teenager anymore. I simply loved her. We talked about
it more than once and she became the woman I loved and the woman who
liked me but didn't love me. I asked her to marry me and she said no but
she said yes when I asked her to work for me. And I said yes when she
asked me to help paint her place and we were as friendly as a couple of
nuns, just not so clean.
The tattoos were gone. It had something to do with the M-X and don't ask
me to explain it other than it had to with what Dr. Troy called
potentiating. I was just glad not to be marked for life.
I was dressed tastefully for my meeting, black velvet cut well with a
smart drape covering my bosom. My hair, a wig really, was done in a dark
page boy. I looked swell. I was calling on the love of my life, all ready
to be her sister. Sarabeth met me at the door.
I gave her a story about finding my "missing brother". There was a legacy
and I couldn't get mine until he got his. We do get IIstraightll cases
every now and again. Sarabeth was sympathetic, listened, let me know that
she cared about how "bad" I felt. I felt lower than I had ever before.
She went to my desk to get a brochure. I slipped the drug into her tea. I
would put her to sleep and I could get to the file. We chatted on, about
her plans for a vacation and my fabricated life, details to establish a
relationship. Sarabeth is great at this relationship stuff, with anyone
but me, I guess. I kept waiting for her to nod off.
She was just staring straight ahead. Dr. Troy came in. "Excellent job,
Girlie, she's totally under by now. II I didn't know what to say, how to
react to what I realized I had done. Sarabeth had been hypnotized by the
drug. I went for the file. Sarabeth was in another room with Dr. Troy.
I waited there, alone and more nervous every minute. Dr. Troy inspected
the file and my records until she was sure this was everything. Then, she
shredded the lot. I was put in cloak closet. I could hear the sound of
slaps and smacks, of high pitched pleas and racking sobs. There were
stern womens' voices, used to commanding, used to being obeyed. What were
they doing to her? I tried to break out but I was too frail.
Sarabeth seemed okay when they released me. She was asleep on the
recliner, peaceful, satisfied? It seemed better just to go but that was
just the better part of cowardice on my part. I deserved to suffer what I
was going through.
Joan buried her face in my crotch. In the last few weeks, she had spent
her every waking moment, fondling and being fondled, sucking and being
sucked. With women. There were videos of her being eaten and beaten and
bound and trained. All by women and I had seen them all. She, eyed every
female she met hungrily. And when she had you fully satisfied she found
someone else.
But she still was trying to resist. I had to give her credit. On three
different occasions, she had tried to escape. "Clinton, is that you?" I
gave Joan a nod that it was. She pulled me off to a side room. "My God,
I'd never recognize you." She was already on her knees, my skirt up and
her tongue busy. Between her groans and mine, I gathered that Dr. Troy
had made a pet project of her.
Joan had been induced to obsess over kinky girl sex, dream of it, crave
it her every waking moment. And then she was taught to fear and resent
and despise men, all men, regardless of their motives towards her, save
effeminate men. Sissies terrified her. Their fluttering hands, their soft
cooing and endless petting and stroking as they slaved to make her
attractive. She was helpless when they had her in their clutches. She
became a big, juicy Barbie doll for them to play with and dress.
Even as I spoke to her, she had been tense until she saw the ravages of
M-X on my groin. Then, her eyes had lighted right up.
"Have you found Larry?" Joan nodded that she had but she wouldn't stop
lapping at me. "Is he here?" A nod, yes again. This was ridiculous. At
the first chance I faked an orgasm just to get her off me.
"So tell me what's going on." Joan's painted face was wet with my "pussy"
cream. Just what was getting me wet down there? I was beginning to get
worries. This had never happened before. "Larry's my hairdresser." Her
hair was snow white, upswept and spinkled with sparkly stuff. It looked
like a fancy wig for the holidays. "Were is he?" Joan gave a little
shudder. "I think he's in the salon." We made our way over. Joan kept
pawing at me, anxious to resume our fun and games. Larry was busy indeed,
perming the matron in chair no. five. Larry was one of the more popular
operators at the Transvida Salon, a place that catered to people who were
casual about gender. We fit in nice, I thought.
Joan stood behind me. Larry seemed fascinated with her hair. "Larry,
Joan, let's get the hell out of here." I tried to remind them forcibly of
the basics. "If you two don't spend the night in your house, you lose all
the money." I had checked the calendar. Tomorrow was Joan's birthday.
They had to be living together tomorrow.
"But I'll miss this appointment and then I'll never be able to afford the
new dress I'm looking at and Joan looks like ... " Larry was prissing
like a real pain in the ass.
"Joan will buy you all the dresses you can wear if you go with her andyou
two can play dress up games all night at home." Joan caught my arm. "What
about us?" "We'll always be able to play games with each other. I'll meet
you later. But you two have to go now."
I got them into a cab and hid. I could hear sounds of the search. I moved
from place to place, leaving signs that it was three and not one, on the
run. By dawn, it was too late and I was standing in front of Dr. Troy.
She looked angry.
"Do you know what you cost me?" Troy was screaming so I guess I was
right, she was angry. "Trent left his money to charity if Joan was cut
off. The charities were all listed and I took one over about a year ago.
It's me and I'm it. Twenty-five million dollars was going to be mine
today and you screwed it up. Do you have any idea of how I'm going to
screw you up?"
Two of her muscled bodyguards grabbed me. Dr. Troy squeezed any extra air
from the hypodermic and advanced on me. I was too scared to struggle. The
shot went in my right arm. Good night.
"Wake her up." I was back in my office. Tied in a chair but in my office.
I tried to look around but a posture collar made me stare straight ahead.
"What do you think, baby, can you handle this sissy?" The voice that
answered made me jerk the chair itself around so that I could see.
Sarabeth was stunning in a black latex sheath, cut tight and short. It
had a mandarin collar and the chongsam slanted front was lined in chrome
studding. Her matching latex hose were gleaming smooth, wrinkle free,
perfection itself. How could she stand in ballet boots? I had worn them
enough myself. The tiptoe torturers always let me nearly immobile. Yet,
Sarabeth was walking slowly, implacably, like a marionette of pain
towards me.
Her blonde hair was black now and pulled back severely from her face. Her
arches were bat's wings and her mouth was a gleaming red gash. In one
hand was a short riding crop and in the other another hypodermic needle.
There was a big smile on her face that stopped south of her eyes. Her
eyes were distant, not cold, just disinterested. Not recognizing me as a
person, as someone who could feel the hurt she was going to inflict but
tallying me up as victim and plaything for her amusement.
"Which one do you want, sissy?", she asked me. My breasts were so sore!
The holes from my piercing were still fresh and tender. But I didn't want
that needle. What was in it? More M-X or maybe something worse! I took
her assault on my breasts and thighs, my ass and feet. She whipped my
hands and my ears but I kept my mouth closed, even to s c r e am.. I was
afraid that if I screamed, it might be for the needle. Finally, she began
to whip my vagina. M-X created or not, it hurt worse than all the other
things that Sarabeth had done to me before.
I looked into her eyes and still loved her. I still loved her when she
made me beg for the needle and lick her seven inch heels, begging for the
needle, and rim her asshole, begging for the needle. I loved her when she
gave me the shot. And loved her even as the new dose of never tested, new
M-X began to take effect and rapidly potentiate in all new ways. My
breasts became more globular, not so much bigger but outrageously round.
So did my ass. My lips got fuller, poutier, all my lips. And I got wet.
Not sweaty but wet. My vagina was leaking something uncontrollably. All I
could think about was putting something inside me, my mouth, my M-X
vagina, up my rear, it didn't matter.
"How we doing, you she-male bitch?", she snarled. Dr. Troy was taking
notes. "You belong to me now. Still want to be my husband? But who would
say the ceremony, they don't let girls marry girls, do they?" Sarabeth
rubbed her crop across my nipples making them poke through the fabic of
my dress. "No more year long disappearances, no more mysterious clients
and slow pay bills."
"I'll run the agency and you'll be my secretary. I can't wait to see you
slink around in the sexy little outfits I'll have you buy. And they will
be little and sexy, I promise you. Won't it be fun to stop traffic when
you cross the street?" "And we'll specialize in women as clients, mostly
women who want a divorce and need to get the right kind of photos of
their husbands in bed with a vixen like you." But we didn't want to do
divorce when you adn I opened the agency, I wanted to say but I stayed
shut up.
"And you'll be so ready to jump into bed with any male who'll join you."
I wanted to scream but who would believe me. And it was getting worse,
because the way I felt between my legs, I suspected that Sarabeth might
be telling the truth.
"I'll use you as my personal toilet and lend you out at parties. You'll
be dancing in bars for me. Because you love me and you'll always love me
and you'll do anything I say, no matter how humiliating. And the worst
part is that this M-X dose reinforces your male sexual orientation.
You'll want women and some women may want you but I'll give you nothing
but men. And you'll be so horny, you'll satisfy ever one of them."
Joan walked in with Larry. They were both dressed as French Maids.
SArabeth turned and admired her transformed reflection in the gilt framed
mirror. "I'm moving so you can have my apartment. I'm taking over the
Trent estate with Dr. Troy. Joan and Larry are going to be the help.
Won't that be cozy?" Sarabeth handed me a steno pad and put me behind her
old desk.
"So be a dear and answer the phone. I have dry' cleaning that has to be
picked up by Four and you have a beauty appointment at Five." Sarabeth
put her arm around her lover, Dr. Troy, and turned to go. "You'll have
lots of beauty appointments and dress fittings and dates with hunky
husbands on their way to Divorce court. So don't worry, I won't let you
get lonely."
I watched everyone leave, opened the mail and put things in order. Then,
I started to type this. It took me a week and I've fallen into a routine
around here. I wonder how long this M-X dose will last. She wasn't
kidding when she said I would stop traffic. Sarabeth has been eyeing all
the typing I've been doing suspiciously. She wasn't that far behind. I'm
mailing this now to C.C. while I still can to try and get him to send
this to the police or get it printed or something. We're going to a party
at Dr. Troy's this Friday night. Joan and Larry will be there and I'm
afraid of what will happen. And Carmen has made an appointment.
Sometimes, I think the window is a better way out. But Dr. Troy left me
too afraid of such heights to even think of opening it. And besides, that
young mailman will be here in a few minutes and I"m soaking wet.
Bree
- 19.02.2022
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