A Job's A Job free porn video

**This is my first work. Reviews and critique are positively welcomed. Thanks for reading!** So, this is now what I do. What's this you ask? Well, currently I'm tied to a table, arms above my head, legs apart, blindfolded, naked and surrounded by food. There's some sort of conference on, but its in Russian and I couldn't really tell you what its about. The food is snacks for the delegates, and I'm basically a table decoration, eye candy. One of them has his hand on my thigh and, try as I might not to, I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter. He sticks a finger inside me and begins to stroke; this guy's good - his wife's a lucky woman. He stops as my breathing speeds up and the delegates stop their discussion to have a good laugh at me as I writhe on the table, trying to get some friction to finish what he started. I know I'll be embarrassed about it later, but for now I just need it. I won't find it though, the conference has been going on for a few hours and this is now the seventh time he's brought me up here then left me. They seem to find it hilarious watching me, panting and with erect nipples squirming on the table. Knowing what I look like now, I'd imagine some of them are storing up mental images for when they're alone in their rooms. What I look like now. That's the crux of the matter. I'll tell you what I used to look like, shall I? Well, I was about 5'11 and carrying a few pounds I didn't strictly need around the waist. I had a Liverpool Football Club tattoo on my right arm, which I bitterly regretted and an appendectomy scare. I also had a beard and a penis. Yup, I was a man. My name was Jonathan Ashcroft, 42, born in Liverpool, England. I worked for a multi-national technology firm - I can't tell you which one as I signed a host of non-disclosure agreements and, strange as it might sound, I intend to honour them - in 'Corporate Intelligence'. I know that'll light some euphemism alarms in your heads and you'd be right, I was essentially a corporate spy. No James Bond stuff, generally it was a matter of getting a job in a rival company and uncovering everything I could. Some of them were a bit more challenging though, and it was one of them that started the chain of events that ended up with me being professional masturbation material. We'd been having problems with a rival company - again I won't mention names but you'll have heard of them. Three years without fail we'd developed a new technology and then, just as we were about to file for patents this other company would. Once is bad luck, eleven products is a leak. The project we were currently working on was codenamed 'Possession'. That wouldn't be the final name, too sinister, but Marketing were still coming up with that. I'm not a techie and I can't tell you exactly how it works, so all I'll do is repeat what my boss told me "If you think of it as body swapping then you'll be wrong on practically every technical level, but right in principle." The technology allowed you to have control over another person's body, while your old one is in the control of the person you swapped with. We were going to market it to people with severe physical disabilities. Lord alone knows where the new bodies were coming from, guess Legal were still working on that. All I know is that we were desperate not to loose out on the race to patent again, so I applied for and got a job as a cleaner in their R&D department. Looking back, the damn thing was a trap from the start. But hindsight is 20:20 I guess. I sailed through the interview with my collection of fake references and was due to start the next week. Report at 9:00 AM to Ms Townsend. Physical. Health and Safety briefing. Corporate induction. These things have a pattern to them if you've been in as many low end jobs as me. The work was damn hard, but not mentally taxing so I had plenty of thinking time. I ascertained pretty quickly that they were working on the same project as us. I'd been shown round our labs as part of my briefing and the machines used and being built were exactly the same. I wasn't able to talk to any of the technicians though, they had a different canteen to us minimum wage slaves and the one time I ventured in I was hurriedly shooed out by Ms Townsend - my ever-present boss. After about a month of reports saying "Nothing to Report" I caught a break. I was stopped from buffing a floor by a guy in a suit who asked for directions to one of the labs. I told him where it was and spent the next few hours racking my brains trying to work out where I'd seen him before. It wasn't until I was sat in the canteen though that it came to me. The guy was one of our head technicians. I confess, I was outraged. I'd been expecting emails from a throwaway address or something similar, the brazen way he walked in with a file under his arm really annoyed me. And that, looking back on it, is where I screwed up. So you're thinking 'well, John, I figure you just carried on with the day's work and made your report back after hours'. Yeah, that would've been a better plan. What I actually did was abandon my meal and give Ms Townsend some bullshit excuse about why I needed to leave the premises for a while to make some personal calls. I all but ran to the locker room to get my mobile phone, signed out with security and tried to find somewhere secluded to make the call. What I did find, or rather what found me, were two security guards. One of them held his hand out for my mobile while the other asked if I'd mind coming with them. I'm not much of a fighter and even if I was these two were fucking Goliaths. I figured it was go with them or get a kicking and go with them. I chose the first option and was unceremoniously dumped in a maintenance closet for about four hours. I'm sure if I had have been some kind of James Bond I could have mixed some of the cleaning chemicals together to cause a small explosion, blown the door down and escaped in the confusion, but my degree is in Journalism. What I actually did was rattle the door handle angrily for a while then sit down on a mop bucket and sulk. Eventually a more senior security figure came and escorted me at gunpoint - at gunpoint damnit - to the lab complex. I resigned myself to telling them everything they want to know, I'm enough of a realist to know the longest I could reasonably expect to hold up to any kind of intimidation was about fifteen minutes and there was no point in making it harder on myself than I had to. Instead I was just locked in one of the holding cells for animal subjects for another few hours. I was eventually moved, again at gunpoint, into the lab proper and told to sit in one of the transfer chairs - the linked machines used for the body swapping. Well, at this I did struggle. I fought heroically and like a caged tiger. For a couple of seconds at least until one of the security guards casually backhanded me across the face and I fell, dazed, into the chair where I was promptly strapped in. Another couple of guards came in, a naked woman between them. She sat down looked me up and down. Now, I'm not usually a letch, and kidnapped and in pain doesn't do wonders for the libido as I bet you can imagine, but let me tell you I felt some stirrings looking at the wonder sat next to me. Long curly red hair, green eyes, must be at least a D cup, perfect waist and arse, not a hair on her body except for eyebrows and head. This woman was perfection, honestly. Sheer perfection. But all the same, I could see what was coming and wasn't one bit happy about it. I started to complain loudly while she smiled at me menacingly. Demands to see lawyers, threats, pleading, promises, everything. I was so damn angry I didn't even feel the injection. Didn't even realise I had been injected until I looked back on it. I just know I passed out. I'd worked out how I'd wake up, so it wasn't immediately that much of a surprise to me. My arms were still strapped down but I could move my head and look down at myself. Large breasts hanging free. Covering my groin from my viewpoint but I could well guess what was there, or what wasn't. I could see my long legs, also strapped down. Tensing my legs tensed them, shaking my chests set my breasts to shaking. I'll tell you how gorgeous she, I, was. Despite everything I sat and watched my breasts shaking for a good five minutes until I heard a cough next to me. My old body was sat watching me, clearly amused. "Quite a piece of work, wasn't I?" I, she, said. She stood up, her straps must have been undone while I was out, same as her straps were done up. She looked at herself in a full length mirror for a while then turned back to me. "Aren't you the narcissist, sat their getting off on yourself. You love yourself this much, you're going to love this. And I've always wondered what it was like." She dropped her uniform trousers and boxers and drew out her, my, penis and toyed with it a bit until it got hard. She grabbed my mouth in one hand, forcing her fingers between my back teeth to try to make me open my mouth, I bit down resolutely. Damn sure she was strong enough to open my mouth has she tried but she seemed to get bored after a moment and let go. "Not in the mood, sweetheart? Well, we've save this for later. Got something else I've always wanted to try from the other side." He stepped out of his trousers and boxers and hit a button on my chair that reclined me back to horizontal. I forced my knees together but that wasn't where he was going. He climbed on the chair and knelt over me, my body between his knees. "The number of guys I've had" she began to masturbate, quickly and confidently, obviously done it a few times from the other direction "begging to cum on my face". I squeezed my eyes shut. It was eyes shut, eyes up and looking at the sweaty, hairy face of a man masturbating on me or eyes down and look at the act itself. "I figure there must be something in it" A few globs of something sticky and warm landed on my face. My eyes were still shut but I could feel him get up off the chair I was strapped to. "Meh. Not sure I see the attraction myself" With my eyes shut, I could listen to the voice. I'd always been sickened by my voice when I accidentally heard an answer phone message or whatever. In my head, I have this perfect, clear and articulate voice, on machines it's a barely-recognisable-as-speech rapid fire Liverpool accented mess. Hearing her speak with my voice though was how I always wished it would, she didn't have the accent at all. "I'm going to leave you for a bit, I'll tell Dr Svensson you're up and about." Lying back on the chair I began to cry, until the tears washed a trace of something salty into my mouth. I stopped then, sickened. I've really no idea how long I lay like that. I suppose it can't have been more than about ten minutes, really. I opened my eyes but couldn't see anything but the ceiling. Anyway, after some unknown amount of time a face appeared above me, middle aged and balding in fashionably framed glasses. "Good evening, Johnathan." His voice had some sort of Scandinavian twang, and he spoke absolutely calmly. "Our records indicate you are an intelligent man so I'm sure you've worked out what has happened. Miss Gryson will now be working at ensuring our continued technical dominance. You, in time, will be working at one of our research stations in Russia. There have been problems there with guards becoming bored and causing trouble, and some of our Russian investors appreciate hospitality; hopefully you will solve both problems. However, that will not be for a week or so, as there are a few points we need to resolve. This gentleman here, oh I'm sorry you can't see him can you? Well, I assure you there is another gentleman with me and his name is Hank Shoeman. He's a lab assistant here and the one who won our little lottery. For the next two days Hank will be having frequent intercourse with you, vaginally initially, whilst you are injected with this." He brought his arm up into my field of view, holding a hypodermic. "It's synthesised from a Bolivian plant and effectively functions as a potent aphrodisiac. We never released it onto the market, though, as our clinical trials revealed certain side effects. I will not bore you with the details but it in essence forms an addiction to the specific endorphins released during sex. Withdrawal is exceptionally painful. Of course, in your case, this is less a side effect than a major positive." He stopped leaning over me, disappearing from my point of view. I'd taken this all in wide mouthed and open eyed, too shocked to even respond. When I couldn't see him any more though it all hit me at once. I started screaming bloody murder. Not even saying words, if I remember right, just screaming. The Scandinavian doctor said something, again in that infuriating calm voice, but I could barely hear him over my screams. "...anticipated this reaction...time being we will...probably reuse...anal penetration." With that a large ball was deftly placed into my open mouth, abruptly cutting off my screams. I saw the doctor pass into and out of my field of view as he did up some straps behind my head. "There, that's a bit more peaceful now. Feel free to close your eyes during these initial few encounters if you prefer. In time, you will need to keep them open but I think we should proceed one step at a time. Hank, if you want to begin disrobing I will administer the injection and then give you some privacy." And I felt an injection, expertly done, in my arm. "Have fun, Hank. Try to have fun Jonathan. Incidentally, the body's original name was Joanna, you may find it more helpful to think of yourself in those terms. Of course, in time very few people will actually be speaking to you other than to express desires so I doubt you will actually need a name. Feel free to choose one though." And that was all. Less than five minutes of talking and not only was the doctor gone but also my old life. I started to cry again, taking in huge gulps of air through my nose and making little whimpering noises. Particularly when strong hands pulled my knees apart and I felt them being strapped to something that prevented me closing them again. You never forget your first time, they say, and even though this was my second first time, I have never forgotten it. My eyes were tightly shut the whole time but I felt the chair move as Hank got onto it then felt his whole body over me, hands roughly grabbing my breasts, upper thighs pressed against mine and mint flavoured breath on my face. Since then I've learnt one hell of a lot about penis sizes and Hank wasn't that big in truth. About average. When I felt him pushing against body parts I'd never felt touched before though I was honestly certain he was some sort of porn star monster. Apparently the injection had taken care of the lubrication, because he got in easy enough. I don't know how to explain. Half the world will know what it feels like, the other half, my old half, can't really imagine. He shifted his position and began to thrust. With each thrust my tears increased and I could feel the breath on my face coming faster and faster. I felt him shift position again and his upper body left mine, one hand grabbing my breast, one propping him up at the side of my head. He started to speed up and pressed himself further into me until I felt him stiffen suddenly and then relax as a warmth filled my, well - you know where it filled. He stayed on top of me for a moment and I could feel him getting softer then he sighed and stood up. "You need to learn how to move, girl" said a male voice and then he wiped himself clean on my breast. My right one, I could point to exactly where it was even now. It was, and still is, that that always sticks in my mind about that first time. It felt, I dunno, casually contemptuous. Just a "well, I've fucked you and now I'm done". He did it a lot, later, and even wiped himself clean on my hair a few times - which is a pain to get out as I'm sure some of you know, I've had an awful lot of sperm in my hair now and I'm something of an expert - but it's that first time that stays with me. If he's not inside me the only interest I have is as a towel. I heard him walk out, but didn't open my eyes for quite some time. Now I know that the next period lasted four days. At the time though I would have given you short odds on forever. The ball gag stayed in my mouth, I stayed strapped down with my legs open. I didn't sleep or eat at all and usually could see nothing but the industrial tiled ceiling. The only time that featureless view changed was when first the doctor would lean over and inject me and then Hank would clamber over me and grind away for a while. I wasn't counting and I haven't seen the records but it must have been a hundred times. Must have been. And I began to get used to it. I suppose you get used to anything. The first few times were basically the same as the first. Hank would clamber onto me and I'd clench my eyes shut. I'd feel him enter me and begin to cry, he'd ignore me and grind away then climb off and wipe himself clean on me then leave. Eventually though I could keep my eyes open and see Hank's face - white, stubble, short hair, blue eyes - above me as he thrust. Soon after that I didn't cry. It all changed on day four though. As I say I'd been laying there with a ball gag and I hadn't been washed. My crotch, thighs and stomach were covered with dried cum as were my breasts and hair. I imagine my eyes were pretty red. I couldn't see myself, but I could feel the sticky patches easily enough. I heard Hank and Dr Svensson coming into the room and mentally braced myself for another rape, but instead Hank sniffed. "Look at her" he said "I'm done with this. She's stopped crying at least, but can we not get her cleaned up." "It," the doctor replied. "It has stopped crying but we should clean it up. We spoke of the importance of depersonalisation, Mr Shoeman. But I believe a break is important. That will be all for now." I heard Hank walk away as Svensson came into my line of site. "I imagine you have found the last few days relatively unpleasant. That is to be expected but I believe our compound will have had time to work now. I am just about to" as he talked he began preparing a hypodermic in my line of sight "give you an injection of a anaesthetic. Whilst you are unconscious we shall perform some surgery upon you - removing your ovaries is the largest part but there will be other aspects - strengthening of the vaginal walls and so forth. Chief amongst them is implanting a microchip inside you. That chip is tied to our security system, and will deliver a paralysing shock to your nervous system should you attempt to leave. In layman's terms, you will fall unconscious should you attempt to leave this room. Implicit in that is that your bonds will be released. When you awake it will have been some twelve hours since you last had intercourse." He leant over and I felt a prick in my arm. I felt my eyelids growing heavier but he continued to talk. "You will be in quite some pain due to withdrawal. Mr Shoeman's exclusive rights have now ended and all of the staff are free to use you as they wish. However, you will find that they have been, stay awake please, it's important you hear this, they have been instructed to withhold that until you perform oral - and later anal - sex with them. These sex acts will not give release to your addiction but it is important you learn to associate them with vaginal sex. Dietary supplements will aid your learning but you will come to realise that if anyone expresses an interest in any form of sexual act with you then you are to agree as that is a necessary step to fulfilling your addiction. All will become clearer in time. Prep her for surgery please" This last was addressed to someone outside my line of sight but before I saw them I was fast asleep. I awoke flat on my back in that same room, but not tied to the chair - although it took me a moment to realise that as I had got so used to not even trying to move my limbs. A security guard I vaguely recognised was listening to an iPod and didn't seem to realise I was awake yet but other than him and the bonds, nothing much had changed. I was still naked and I'd apparently been washed - although a sticky patch of cum on my neck and chest ruined that. That mystified me at the time, I remember. I know the pattern well now though; someone, or more probably several people, had fucked my tits while I was asleep. How they managed to staff an entire lab with so many perverts still mystifies me though. I suspect they were all being given some form of drug as well, in all honesty. I tried to slide myself off the chair and stretch but the second I moved I was hit by a crippling wave of pain. Have you ever had a toothache? I always used to think that was the worst pain possible because there's nothing you can do to lessen it. It doesn't matter how you sit, stand or lay, mouth closed or open, it just doesn't change. This is like that but a million times worse. No matter what I did, do, it doesn't go. I didn't know I couldn't lose it at this point though so I tried to lay back down to the position I'd been in when I woke up, it hadn't hurt then. But the pain knew I was awake now and refused to leave. I tried laying on my front (newly uncomfortable), either side, I tried curling up, stretching, I tried every position there was but nothing helped. My twisting and moans did alert the guard to me being awake though. He took his iPod out and strolled over to watch me twisting for a while, smiling slightly. "Not gonna help. Doc says he's told you what you need." he eventually said. And, well, he had a point. Not like the doctor had lied to me at any point was it? And this guy was slimmer than Hank, clean shaven, looked a bit more feminine in short. Believe it or not, I'm still straight. Straight as a male, I mean, I like girls. If I can just jump ahead in the story a bit, it was Grigor's - who is one of the soldiers - birthday and in addition to me there were a couple of prostitutes there. I ended up in the shower with one of them. We made out, washed each other, I licked her, kissed her breasts all that kind of thing. Now I orgasm quite regularly to be honest, its just a physical response turns out, but the only time I remember getting any mental release from one is the two of us on the shower floor fingering each other with my mouth on her nipples. Sure the fact that there were twenty odd drunk Russians masturbating a few feet away didn't help but you take what you can get in my position and at least I was having sex with a girl again. Anyway, my point is that this guard looked a bit more feminine and I was willing to do anything to make this stop. I painfully rolled my self onto my back and opened my legs but he shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Doctor's orders. On your knees". The half remembered end of Svensson's speech came back to me and I knew what he wanted. And that was a step too far. Pain's only pain after all and I figured they wouldn't kill me. I shook my head and he shrugged then laughed "Suit yourself. I'm gonna be sat over there. You just crawl over when your ready and pull my trousers down. I made it easy on you, I'm not wearing boxers. I'll be waiting." He wandered back over to his seat and put his earphones back in his ears. Well, pain is only pain and I've heard of those Buddhist monks who sleep on beds of nails and all that. But I've told you before that I'm not James Bond, a Buddhist monk or any kind of torture resistant super soldier, I'm a journalism graduate from Birkenhead. Eventually I slowly and painfully got off the bed. My plan was to walk over but every step shot more fire into my body and I did end up crawling over just for fear of falling and injuring myself. He saw me coming, stood up and dropped his trousers. He was telling the truth that he wasn't wearing boxers and I soon ended up with a penis at eye level. I'd seen them before of course, and not just mine, but never this close. Lets be honest now, they're not an appealing body part. Maybe straight women feel different, I dunno, but to me they just don't look, well, appetising. His was uncircumcised and flaccid, maybe a bit smaller than my old one. Curly black hair, veins, well - you know what one looks like. It looked like that. I clutched onto his thigh for support to pull myself up and knelt with it by my mouth for a while. "Look" he eventually said "get it sucked or I pull my trousers up and don't take them off again. My shift is another six and a half hours, you're only gonna get worse." I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. I'd had blowjobs before but you don't really pay attention to technique do you. He wasn't even hard, that has to be the first step right? I leant forwards to put it my mouth, that always worked for me, but missed and got a mouthful of hair. Apparently blow jobs are an eyes open endeavour. Fine. Eyes open I took it in my mouth while I tried to work out what to do next. He stiffened a little and muttered something but he wasn't stiff enough. I couldn't do this, I leant back at him and looked up at him. "Please?" I muttered. Not sure what I was asking for. I think I meant just 'please, I don't want to do this, don't make me' but it could have been any number of other pleases - 'please just have sex with me', 'please make it hard', 'please let me go'. I dunno. For want of a nail - you know that rhyme? For want of a nail a shoe was lost, for want of a shoe a horse was lost, and so on. It's about how little things can have big consequences. I honestly don't think I would ever have been able to kiss it or whatever it would have taken to get him hard and eventually the pain would have put me into shock or something. But when I'd leant in the first time I must have ended up with a hair on my lip and I licked it because it was tickling. Kissing the balls works, licking the shaft works, kissing the tip works, but what also works is an incredibly gorgeous woman naked on her knees in front of you looking up at you pleadingly and licking her lips. Can't even blame the guy. It stiffened, and somehow became less threatening. It will certainly not go down as the world's best blow job. I was crying with pain and embarrassment and I didn't know what I was doing so I just made an 'o' with my lips and moved my head back and forth. I kept having to stop as well, to breath. Eventually though he started to go soft and I outright panicked. Every movement was agony but staying still was agony. My knees and mouth ached and I was terrified that he'd get bored and leave me like this. So I cried a bit more then started sucking properly. He grabbed the back of my head and forced me closer to him until I was genuinely scared I might choke and began using my tongue as well, just desperate for this to be over. Which it eventually was. Cum filled my mouth and he withdrew, I leaned forwards and coughed and spat it all on the floor. "Suppose swallowing is too much to ask for. Turn around, on all fours. Don't want to look at your crying face while I'm doing you." It felt like forever before I felt him kneel down behind me. In fairness, these things take a little time to recharge and I guess he was fairly quick. I was leaning on my forearms with my arse in the air in pain like you can't imagine though and it felt like forever. I was scared that he'd changed his mind and wasn't going to fuck me, scared that I was scared about a man not fucking me, sore, hurting, embarrassed and lonely and he was just taking so goddamned long. I started swearing at him, calling him every name under the sun and basically just not really helping until he slapped me, hard, on the arse. The sting shut me up for a moment and in the gap between swearing and crying he put himself in me. That time the relief came immediately. Normally it takes a bit for the chemicals to start flowing but I guess that time it was just a relief. He started pumping away and I was just so relieved that he had and, oh this is shameful. OK. People have pissed on me, spat on me, came on me, you name it. Once, even, there was some sort of emergency at the barracks and noone was around for like six hours. When the off shift came back I'd just called one of the guard dogs over. My plan was to get it hard - fingers or mouth, whatever works - and then, somehow, fuck it. I'm not sure I'd have gone through with it. In fact I don't think I would have, logistics aside, but that was the plan and I'm telling you that. I'm nowhere near as embarrassed about that as I am about this next bit, that's why I mention it. Anyway, I'm a physical and mental mess and he's kneeling behind me, his hands on my hip, his cock inside me and pumping away and I so fucking thankful. And I start screaming. "Oh god yes. Fuck me. Fuck me." And so on. I was screaming away and bucking my hips like you wouldn't believe and I imagine being the greatest sex this guy had ever had. And then I start to shake. I didn't realise what it was at first, figured it was just a side effect. But I didn't actually feel him cum, I just felt him push deeper into me for a moment then this sensation just washed over me. I came. Very very loudly. Again, it's a difficult thing to describe, you try it, but it was like my whole body just built up to this amazing peak at once. He pulled out and I rolled over, flat on my back and smiled up at him and at that moment I loved him so much. Yes, loved him. He was stood over me with his trousers down and this little smirk on his face. A mate of my, back in my male days, once told me this joke: "How do you make a woman cum?" "Who fucking cares?" and it's a joke and all but its kind of true in a way. If you're having sex and she doesn't finish then, well, who fucking cares. But the reason its not true is that little smirk. I used to do it as well. When a woman, particularly one as stunning as me, is having a screaming mind-blowing orgasm because of you, well, you get a little "who da man" smirk when its all over. You just do. I felt so much better and the pain was gone but that smirk made it all awful. At least during the thousand years when Hank had been coming in I was tied to a chair and raped. Now I'd all but begged someone, a male someone, to have sex with me and that smirk said that we both knew I'd loved it. "There's a shower through that door" he said "get yourself cleaned up, you'll want another go in an hour or two." I scrambled to my feet and ran through the door, running away from the smirk. In the room there was a shower, sink and toilet but I just slammed the door and sat against it. At the risk of being repetitive I had another little cry. Only a little one though, before I became sickened by the slow trickle of semen down my leg and had a shower. I had it has hot as I possibly could and scrubbed for ages. It's a wonder I didn't damage myself I scrubbed that hard. One think I vowed as I scrubbed away was that I certainly wouldn't want another go in an hour or two. Certainly not. He'd had his and there was simply no way I was going out there again to face that smirk. Not me. I knew how bad it was at twelve, thirteen hours and I knew it didn't kill me. Sure, I'd probably have to do something, someone, then but not in an hour or two, no sirree bob. Now, the funny thing about pain is this: it's worse if you know its coming. Apparently torturers show their victims the tools for that very reason. So when it started to hurt in an hour (I suppose - there was no clock in the bathroom) I was terrified. I knew what was coming and I simply didn't have the courage to face it. Which was why I walked out and when he took his earphones out I calmly - because I'd decided I might as well try to salvage a little bit of dignity - asked him if I could suck him off again. Well, he agreed of course. The blowjob wasn't much better, the sex was worse but at least the pain stopped. I gave him one more blowjob and had sex with him four more times, hiding in the bathroom between each session. The third time I went out he told me not to bother with the blowjob because he "wasn't a fucking machine" then laughed at the pun. I don't think he even came the last time. I certainly didn't, I was keeping a good posture and doing my best to have a slightly bored face to try to maintain dignity. They lowered the guard's shifts to two hours after that: one maybe two sessions. It makes me feel faintly happy that that was something they hadn't thought of. There was a clock in the lab, now that I could move around, so I know how long this last bit lasted. It was twelve days of the same routine. Every hour, hour and half I'd get horny (or painful, to be more precise) and the guard would have some fun. Not all wanted a blow job although most did. Some wanted a tit-fuck, some a hand job, I got to learn the guards and what they wanted. Every eight hours Svensson would come in with a chemical tasting meal. I would eat it and we would sit for an hour while he talked at me. "People around you have the power now. You must give every appearance of enjoying sex or they will not be so willing - if they feel you are being coerced they will, on some level, withdraw. There have been reports of you appearing bored, that will need to stop. It is important that you perform such sexual services as are requested of you. Once out of the lab vaginal sex may not immediately follow oral or other methods but I assure you that without your constant ministrations through mouth, hands, breasts or however it is requested you will not receive the relief you need." and so on like that. The meals left me in a soporific state and were obviously drugged. Presumably the dietary supplements he mentioned. In between sex with my guard I had an hour's sleep or read from a huge pile of papers giving instructions on the best way to perform sexual acts because "it is important that you display skills in this area so that others are more inclined to request your services." The blow jobs got better, I came once or twice. Oh, I'm missing a load of detail, sure. I'm leaving out the days I spent in the bathroom only emerging when the pain forced me out. I'm skipping the two days I refused to touch my food until hunger forced me back to it. I'm not detailing the sense of pride I began to take in my newly learnt skills and the way I began to play little games with myself - seeing how long it took me to bring one of the guards to orgasm then trying to beat my best time. Nor am I talking about the several times I attempted to escape but fell unconscious on hitting the plane of the door. A few times I even offered to show Dr Svensson my new skills but he gently demurred. By the end, though, I was playing along. I still didn't enjoy any of it but I was in a half trance state from the food and Svensson's semi- hypnotic talks and there just didn't seem to be anything else to do. Nine AM on the morning of the third day saw me on top of one of the guards - the position is called the cowgirl, I think. Me on top and sat up. This particular guard preferred it, I think he liked to watch my breasts move. I certainly did - occasionally I'd bounce in front of the mirror. I never masturbated though, I'm really not sure why not. Perhaps Svensson's conditioning, I don't know. Just never really felt like it. Anyway, I was rocking away and hoping he'd finish in the next thirty eight seconds so I could beat my personal best when Svensson walked in. That threw the guard off and he never did finish. "Shower yourself please and then put these on. We shall be moving to the loading bay. I assure you your security chip will prevent you from escaping." He placed a long skirt and a blouse on the chair. I was intrigued. Moving was exciting enough and clearly it was a big day as those would be the first clothes I'd worn as a female. I hurried through the shower and came out to get dressed. I'd had sex as a woman countless times. (wait's its not countless is it. Lets say every hour and a half for sixteen days that's, errr, two hundred and fifty six times. Jesus. Wait, twelve hours when I was under from the operation, so that's minus... well, whatever. A lot, is my point). I'd slept with thirty eight different men, what I'm saying is that I was used to being treated as female. But I balked at the relatively inoffensive dress and blouse. Funny from someone who routinely parades around in a thong, stockings, suspenders and a bra nowadays, hey? But I did. Svensson caught my look and nodded. "I suppose there is no issue with you wearing male clothes if you would be more comfortable. Mr Hawkins, please give her your trousers and shirt, then requisition another uniform on my authority." The trousers were too big for me and I had to use one hand to hold them up. The shirt was too small around the chest so I had to leave several buttons undone and ended up showing a lot of cleavage. I was unquestionably female as I shuffled along behind Svensson and down to a docking bay where a large army style troop transporter was waiting. I dropped to my knees in front of one of the workers when he wolf whistled at me but his shocked expression and Svensson's gentle shake of the head got me on my feet again and into the back. The back was a fairly large space with a table in the middle and benches along each side. Svensson took a seat facing the table while I followed his gesture and perched on the table. Soon men in the security uniform I knew so well began to climb in as well although I didn't recognise any of them. I looked to Svensson for instructions but he simply waved me to stay seated so I did. Once the vehicle started moving he started talking "We are now moving you to your final destination. It will be a long drive, some fifty hours all told, and you will require relief from your addiction. When you do, simply bring one of these men to erection whereupon they will have anal sex with you - you may find it convenient to lean across the table. If they are satisfied they will then consent to vaginal. I will stress that this is no longer guaranteed. If none of them consent, you will spend an uncomfortable few hours until we reach Marseille where these will leave and a new consignment will arrive. You may try with them." This was stepping the game up a little I realised as the guards nudged each other. People watching would be a first and so would... I resolved to hold out as long as I could. A couple of hours in my body was on fire, my eyes were tightly clenched and my jaw ached my grinding my teeth. People had realised how much pain I was in and were watching me silently, probably taking mental bets on how long I could hold out. I could probably have lasted a bit longer but I was concentrating so hard on ignoring the pain that I lost my balance when the transporter went round a corner and ended up on the floor. I bruised my arm quite badly and realised this was becoming counter productive. I quickly brought myself up on my knees in front of the guard closest and began massaging him through his trousers while I unbuttoned the few closed buttons of my shirt. "Please," I panted to general cheers. Someone shouted that I'd picked Chris because I could tell he had a tiny dick and it was to much laughter that he unbuckled his trousers and ordered me to bend over. With a, "You're about to see something special lads," I felt him pressing against my arsehole. I'd read instructions about this but couldn't bring myself to relax what with the pain, knowing people were watching and the motion of the transporter. I could feel him pressing against me but he couldn't get in. Eventually the mockery of his friends was apparently too much because he grabbed me strongly around the waste and pulled me back as he pushed forwards. He was fully inside me and I screamed in pain as despite my mind's orders I tensed up even further. He thrust a few times and I continued screaming and begging him to stop until he pulled out and left me curiously empty. "This you're getting fucked bitch you can think again," he said angrily as he turned away to wash his penis in a small sink. Shit, I thought. Blown it. In a panic I ignored the new pain to add to my old one along with the trickle of blood running down the back of my thigh and I turned to one of the seated guards in desperation . I sat on his knee and once again began stroking him through his trousers but I guess the poor man had stage fright because nothing was happening. Looking back I can't really blame him but at the time I hated him - what if this was symptomatic of them all. I slapped him across the face and then bent over the table. "Anyone?" I challenged, I may have even bared my teeth. Amongst much laughter and joking at the man who'd failed to get it up I didn't hear someone stand up behind me; the first I knew of it was feeling him slip into my arse. It hurt just as much as the first time but I was overjoyed. I move against him, tensing and untensing and when I felt him cum I wasn't even disgusted. I just though "thank god. That's got to be good enough for a fuck". He slapped me gently on the arse and said "on the floor then" while he turned to wash himself and once again I was just filled with hate. I figure it was maybe a reaction to the pain and the shame but at the time I just hated him for even thinking about washing himself. Didn't he know how much I needed this? We had very angry sex on the floor. I did as well, eventually he was forced to pin my arms down because I was scratching at his back so much. He looked quite sore when he finally got off me. I glowered at him from the floor a bit, only my arse still hurting before painfully washing myself off. Again to much laughter "she sure took a chunk out of you." I was fucked and then fucked eight more times in the first part of the drive. It hurt just as much every time but I powered through it and never recreated the desperation of that first time. As for the normal sex afterwards... You know how I said I made a little game of it in the lab? Personal bests and all that. It was like that. A few of them would be touching themselves as we had sex on the floor so I did my best to put on a show. I was trying to get one of them to start masturbating but none of them did. In between times I stood up - it hurt too much to sit down. Eventually we reached Marseille and the guards started collecting their kit. I don't know what made me do it. Well, I suspect it was Svensson's talks about making sure that I made myself available. Maybe I figured I might see them again and might be hurting so best not leave things on a bad note. I hope it was something like that, the alternative is a little disturbing. It's like Pavel, one of the guards. He's never had me but I always make a special point to shower with him and wash him and sleep next to him and suchlike and I'm really not sure why. Do I maybe feel sorry for him? Want him? See him as a challenge? I dunno. All I do know is every morning when he goes for his shower I slip out of my clothes and follow him in so he can stand motionless and terrified while I wash myself in front of him and then wash him, taking extra time on the erection he seems to scared to use. Anyway, I'm getting off track. As they were all getting ready to go I wandered over to the first two. The one I'd screamed at, the one I'd slapped, and asked them if they wanted a blow job or anything. The one I'd slapped just smiled awkwardly and shook his head but the first one to try to fuck me let me suck him off. Let me - that's my problem. I don't mind saying let me with regard to sex, after all I need it a lot more than them, but increasingly I find myself thinking that people let me give them a blow job, let me be wanked over by them, let me kiss their thighs. I worry about it a bit. Well, I sucked him off and swallowed (I'd long since stopped bothering spitting it out) then he left and I haven't seen him since. But hopefully if I do, he'll fuck me. He's strong, he'd be able to hold me down easily. Svensson got off as well leaving me with some painkillers and on my own but soon enough, before I'd even started hurting, he and a new consignment of guards got on. On this leg I was left to my own devices. Some wanted anal sex, some didn't. Once again I made a little game of the public floor sex afterwards and started faking orgasms. This time I got one masturbating. We stopped off at, assuming Svensson was telling the truth which I have no reason to doubt, Turin, Vienna, Budapest and Sevestapol before reaching Archangel. At each of these the current load got off and a new load got on and stayed with me for a couple of hours before Svensson rejoined us and we set off again. When he got in at Turin I was leant across the table with a dick in my mouth and another in my pussy. At Vienna I was straddling a guy on one of the benches. Budapest I had a makeshift blindfold made from a shirt and we were doing that Japanese thing where they stand around and masturbate on your face and you suck them as the mood strikes you. I want to say Sudoku but that's the numbers thing. Sevestapol I was being held down on the floor by one guy and screaming in an absolutely genuine orgasm as another fucked me. It was a weird journey, in short. Truthfully, I quite enjoyed that journey. I ached by the end of it, but having a different load of people every ten hours or so, knowing that I'd need to be fucked by them anyway, doubting I'd ever see them again, it made the whole thing a bit of an adventure. Don't get me wrong, I'm still not a huge fan of sex with males but by that point it couldn't possibly repulse me any more I'd had so much. So I might as well amuse myself with it, right? I live on a research base just outside Archangel now. I'm not clear how legal the research is, but whats for certain is that they have a staff of sixty guards/soldiers to defend the place and that they've had at least one firefight. Apparently, my Russian still isn't great so I could well be wrong on this, but apparently living on a top secret research base was pretty boring for the guards and when armed men get bored trouble ensues. I live in the barracks and keep the twenty men on the off shift relaxed with my mouth, pussy, hands, arse, you name it. I've got to know all of them now, what they like and so on. My personal bests are all pretty low for everything and its getting a bit routine to be honest. The addiction hasn't worn off, but I rarely reach the pain stage any more. The other part of my job is 'entertaining' visiting I-don't-know-whats. Maybe put in a nice dress and sent to their bedroom. Maybe being passed around their guards - which is actually my favourite, the challenge is there again. Once I spent a meeting under the table giving secret blow jobs to three of them whenever they tapped their feet. That was quite funny actually. Currently, as I say, I'm a fancy table decoration and getting fingered by a skilled delegate to much laughter. When this is over one of the cleaners will likely fuck me before untying me then I'll be back to the barracks. The second shift will just be coming off. I'll ride Boris then Leo will want to cum on my face. I'll see how much I can catch in my mouth - never managed to get it all yet. A job's a job, isn't it.