Babs Bouffant free porn video

Babs Bouffant by TOXIS I God, do I ever pass! I'm gorgeous. I bet every cock on the street is hard just from looking at me and every woman on the street hates me. The tall. elegant blonde checked out her appearance in the plate glass of a store window. Bobbie was svelte, leggy, glamorous and he knew it. Heads turned when he passed and as many women stared as men. His clothes were expensive, only the best designers. Eat your hearts out, you losers, he thought. You all wish that you could look half as good as me, and I'm a man. There were flashing red lights up ahead, they were in front of Bobbie's shop. What the hell was this? Bobbie pushed his way through the crowd of people who had gathered to stare and looked at the official insignia on the car door. OFFICE OF THE SHERIFF FORECLOSURES AND EVICTIONS Eviction! Goddammit, they had until the first of the month to vacate. Where did that fucking landlord get the almighty gall to evict them a full month early? Bobbie stormed over to the front door as quickly as he could in his tight slim skirt and high heels. A burley deputy barred his path. Furious, he looked around. Janice, looking ashen, was standing a few feet down the sidewalk. Janice Dale was his office manager. Shit, if this was anybody's screw up, it was Janice's. Bobbie pushed past another deputy to confront his employee. "What the holy hell is going on here? Why are they padlocking our doors?" "The lease is up today, it seems, and the landlord is evicting us and seizing the property inside for the cost of eviction," Janice responded icily. "It seems that you signed a letter at the last renewal period changing the expiration date and waiving any grace period. I never saw that letter before today and you never told me about one. But the Sheriff sure has a copy." "What did you do to us Bobbie? We're out of business now." Janice looked at her boss, lost and dismayed. A letter, what letter? Had he signed any such letter? There had been all the new forms and the riders, the environmental stuff and new insurance coverage. The landlord had pushed some papers through at the end of the meeting, but it was all routine he had said. After all, he was so busy staring at Bobbie's legs in that micro-mini skirt, that Bobbie had stolen the place for two bucks less a square foot than the going rate. Perhaps, Bobbie hadn't been so slick as he had thought. This was a disaster. How would the shop meet it's printing commitments? The customers would sue. The landlord would sell the presses, the stock and the bindery equipment. Bobbie was well and truly screwed. Dazed, he went back to the shop's entrance. The same deputy blocked his path. "Could I get in please? I have to remove some personal items. You see, my apartment is on the third floor." The deputy looked Bobbie up and down appreciatively, but still shook his head no. "Look Miss, this court order seals the building. If your apartment is in there, you're going to have to get a judge to release your stuff. As it stands now, nobody goes in or out without court approval." Bobbie stared back, dumbfounded. He had to get in. His things -Robert's things - were in there. He would be trapped as Bobbie if he couldn't get in. None of his credit cards would be any good and he only had a few dollars in his purse. That was nowhere near enough to get a place to stay or a meal to eat. Red-faced, Bobbie returned to Janice. The tall blonde coolly ignored her former boss and turned away. "Please Janice, I have nowhere to go. I'm sure that I can sort all this out, but I'll need your help to do it. Can you give me a place to stay? I can't stay out in the cold dressed like this, can I?" The tall woman started to walk away, but turned suddenly. "You always had all the answers," she sneered. "You knew how to make the best deals, what to charge, what to print, how to move product. Well, I don't know much about the printing business, but I damn sure would have known what lease I was I signing." "If you want back, it's gonna be on my terms. First, I get fifty-one percent of the business. Two, you work for me. Three, you get to live in my house and, until this mess is resolved and we have some money, you'll wear whatever clothes I decide to give you." "Janice, be reasonable. I can't go around dressed like this all the time. Couldn't I buy some more mascul..." "Bobbie, sweetie," Janice snarled, "aren't you the one who always bragged that he was the best "passer" around. Aren't you the perfect little cross-dresser? Haven't I had to listen to you boast time after time about somebody else you had just fooled?" "Well, the only clothes I have for you are hand-me-downs, things my mother and my aunts put away. They stored damn near everything they owned. Our attic could start a thrift shop. And we were a house full of women. So get used to the idea, Bobbie dearest, you're going to be in drag for some time to come. And the worst news of all as far as your concerened is that I don't think a stitch of clothing went up those attic steps after ... oh, say maybe ... 1963. I do so hope you love those form-fitting Fifties fashions. Bobbie staggered backwards and slumped against the wall of the building. Trapped! I'm trapped as a woman until she lets me go. I don't have any choice really. I don't have any money or clothes. I'm dressed as a woman right now and eventually someone will find out my secret. Then, I'll get arrested as a queer or something and they'll put me in jail. Bobbie shuddered at the thoughts of his likely doom unless he took Janice up on her offer on her terms. Dejected, he followed the woman, whom he realized had just become his mistress, to her home. II. Bobbie stood up too quickly. "Shit! I did it again!" Annoyed, he tugged and pulled his rubber girdle back down. Janice hadn't been kidding at the treasure trove of dated clothes stored away in her attic and Bobbie was being introduced to Fifties fashions with a vengeance. Bobbie's first encounter had been with the dreaded thick rubber girdle. Hot, sweaty and confining, he found his hips molded into too smooth, ultra-feminine curves. The wide waist band forcefully compressed his middle, only to add emphasis to his now outrageously matronesque rear. Where were his sleek hips? Girdles have garter tabs and garter tabs hold up hosiery. Janice had found lots of carefully rolled hose, each pair in a separate satin bag - seamed hose, patterned hose, fishnet hose, in a dozen shades and in a variety of lengths. Bobbie had been used to the drill of working pantyhose up his legs. Somehow it was different, more demeaning to be going through all the complicated rituals of old-fashioned hosiery. First, there was the rolling the stocking up the leg, careful to keep the pattern or seam straight. Next, Bobbie had to fit and adjust each garter, while he wondered why there were so many of the damn things, to ensure that his stockings were well-fitted and taut. Indeed, the very pull of his taut garter straps, passed under his lace and satin panties, was a distracting reminder of his new-found, dated femininity. Feeling his garters tug with his every step, Bobbie couldn't ignore how different his crossdressing had become, how uncomfortable, how old-fashioned and how humiliating. Janice had insisted on long-line bras, waist-cinches, corsets and the like. They crushed Bobbie's waist still more and pushed his immature, masculine breasts into high hard cones. The way the straps of his bra pulled his shoulders back, the way his girdle hampered his steps, Bobbie was being molded away from his personal ideal of an elegant, leggy modern fashion model into an hour-glass Fifties glamour queen. Today, he was wearing a black satin sheath. It had a high neckline and long sleeves. His hem line was below the knee but the dress was absolutely skin-tight. Every step was a planned event. 'Babs, get in here!" Janice was a bitch as a boss. The last time Bobbie had stood up to her, Janice had left him standing outside, dressed only in a girdle, heels and handcuffs. His pale, flaccid member had dangled ridiculously, ribboned in pink. Janice had made Bobbie beg like a dog to get back in. Ever since then, Janice had called Bobbie "Babs", her pet name for her totally tamed sissy. "Well, Babs baby, here's a chance to strut your stuff. The lawyers just called and said that the other side wants to take a deposition from you. As I understand it, we have to meet the other side's lawyers and let them ask you questions." "Now, I know how much you dazzled our former landlord with your sexy ways, so I want you to knock yourself out, just look your absolute drop- dead best for this. In fact, I've been up in the attic and did a little searching around." "I found the perfect outfit for you and something really exciting. I found some old makeup, still all sealed so I think it's okay. And some hair stuff too. So, we'll just make a beauty parlor time of it, all to help you make the right impression." Janice smiled evilly and waited for the humiliated male to reply. Bobbie, stammering, began, hoping that Janice was only joking. "Really, Boss, do we need to do all that? After all, pretty soon, we'll win the lawsuit, the print shop can open and I can pay you back. If we change my hair to much and things, it will take a long time for me to get back to a masculine look." "Frankly, Babs, I don't know when this court case is going to end. In the meantime, I see no reason why you shouldn't enjoy all the wonderful things living as a woman entitle you to do. Like changing your hair style, or giving yourself a totally new look." "And by the way, the deli dropped off your lunch." Bobbie minced back to his desk. The receptionist had run Bobbie's lunch up while he had been in with Janice. Double milk shake, two jumbo orders of cheese fries - extra cheese, fried chicken. Everything was fattening. Bobbie looked in the mirror, turned and looked at his rear. He was getting fat and Janice seemed to like him that way. After all, she always ordered his meals for him. No sooner had Bobbie finished eating than Janice handed Babs/Bobbie his purse and dragged him out the door. "I think I might just whip you off to the beauty salon now. Let's have a professional do you up. I bet they can do miracles with you." Beaten again, Bobbie trailed along. III. "Look, I can use this old stuff. But, ya' see, it's gonna be, like, really harsh. Oh he'll be blonde alright but his hair will be like straw. If that's okay?" "No problem", Janice replied, "Babs wants the perfect glamour look, don't you sweets?" Abashed, Bobbie nodded meekly. First, his hair was washed. How had he ever let it get so long? Next, the rank chemicals of the color stripper were squeezed onto his hair and scalp. Quickly, it began to burn. His scalp tingled and even burned a little with the irritation. Just as he began to complain the beautician rinsed him off, only to let him see his hair turned a sickly green. "Please! I don't want you to ...duh..." The beautician rammed a cloth into Bobbie's mouth. "Listen, honey," the beautician soothed. "You're not the first boy I did a make-over on, so just sit back and relax. I know how you transvestites like to look. All glittery and everything." As though this - transforming a man into woman - was a normal every-day occurrence for her, the beautician went about her work. The color was applied, a sugary silvery blonde. Sort of a candy platinum. Carefully, Bobbie's hair was wound in big rollers and a perm solution was poured on each roller. Icily, Janice ignored the beautician's warning that this was all too much for Bobbie's hair to take. Eventually, the rollers were out, the hair was dry and styled. Bobbie's makeup was changed, his eyebrows were shaved off and drawn in. Fearfully, he minced over to the mirror to see what had been done to him. In the mirror was a very curvy blonde woman, the clinging black satin of her dress showing off her overly wide hips and the hard points of her up-thrusting breasts. Her shimmering hair was pulled tightly back from her face and set off by a black velvet head-band centering a glittering square buckle just back from her forehead. Beyond that, an enormous ball of silvery blonde hair towered over and framed her features. Features buried under thick pale pancake foundation, eyes lined in iridescent black liner and thickly mascara'd false eyelashes. Her lips were a frosty white as were her long, long nails. Her matching earrings of big brilliant covered squares matched her headband, the buckle of her waist-cinching belt and the tiny buckles of her, oh so high, high heels. The girl in the mirror was the ultimate babe of ... oh, say maybe, of 1962. Tomorrow in the meeting, he would be hopelessly dated, costumed rather than dressed. No one would take Bobbie seriously. Janice draped an oversize swing jacket of red taffeta over Bobbie's shoulders and handed him a red patent heart shaped purse to put his things in. "Oh, there's one last thing. For reading all that fine print," Janice commented mysteriously. Bobbie could feel a pair of eyeglasses being slipped on his face. Stepping away, Janice let her captive see the effect of the latest change in him. The most extreme harlequin frame imaginable, in black, studded and lined with brilliants, there was no question now. Bobbie had become a creation of Janice, a parody of glamour. He had begun to worry, however, that her punishment of him had only started. ********** Bobbie had been answering questions all day and so far he hadn't had to lie. Despite his outrageous appearance, everyone has simply assumed that Bobbie was female. Janice sat quietly to the side, watching. "Miss Bouffant, may I ask, is that your real name?" "Well, no," Bobbie responded. "It's a name I've adopted for my work." Janice had decided on his new name, Babs Bouffant, on the way over and had ordered her sissy slave to use it from now on. "Have you had your name legally changed?" "No," Bobbie replied. Janice gave him a glance. "Do you think I should?" Bobbie/Babs nervously asked. These lawyers were so smart! They had to suspect something, didn't they? Anyway, how could this help his case, portraying him as a total bimbo and airhead. Didn't he need to sound intelligent when he denied signing the lease side agreements? "How far did you go in school?" "Tenth grade." "What happened?" Here it was, the first lie that Janice had instructed him to repeat. "I flunked out." "What did you do?" "First, I worked in a beauty salon, then a clothing store, then I danced for a while. And I lived with a couple of guys." "What do you do now? I mean, for your employer?" It was clear from his tone exactly what the lawyer had in mind when he asked his question. "I'm the receptionist. I answer the phones and greet the visitors. I wear special outfits for parties and stuff like that." It was so humiliating. Bobbie could rip their puny case to shreds. He knew what the deal had been. Why wouldn't they let him just tell his side of it? "What kind of business is it?" "We do courier delivery of packages." "I noticed your unusual attire. Do you usually dress like this?" "Absolutely! I just love looking so wild. And the way guys look at me, I get wet all the time." "Harrummpphh! We don't need the official record being filled with comment like that! I would ask you, Miss, to watch your remarks." Helplessly, Bobbie nodded his understanding but in her corner, Janice nodded her approval. Over the next hours, Bobbie let his hand brush the thigh of one of the lawyers and rubbed his big rear across the front of another. By the end of the day there was no doubt. The witness was a witless sex-kitten in heat. IV. Janice looked out the window. Babs was due back soon. It had taken some time but his latest humiliation really seemed to get to the impotent captive. Babs had been complaining about his life in dresses and big hairdos. Diane had obliged - out of dresses ... and right into capri's and stretch pants, short shorts, flats, sandals. a whole different look. And since it was so easy for Babs to get around now, now that he was out of his sexy tight skirts, he could be a courier for the business. After all, Janice could imagine how humiliated her ex-boss must feel, gyrating "her" increasingly feminine body through the town's busy streets. Oh yes, increasingly feminized. Everything Babs ate or drank was enriched with female hormones and it was starting to pay off already. There was a definite jiggle to her courier's fanny as he hurried out the door. With the fatty diet and the tight lacing, Babs was getting to be a real eyeful. Still, it was getting late. Where was that disgusting sissy? ********* "Listen, offay bitch, I tole' you. Dis stuff ain't be whad ah wants. So yo' gets yo' cheap white ass out mah shop." Bobbie had been very careful. This is what the Afro Salon had ordered be expressed right over. Two hundred pieces of invoice books. "Pardon me, sir ..." "Girl, shut de' fuck up! I ain't here to be listenin' to dah likes a' you. Now, you gets out a' here or I gives you to my sister to deal wid." Bobbie bent over to get the dispatch form. When he looked up, an immense black female, solidly muscled, was towering over him. "I heard my brother tell you to get moving. You got trouble hearing, girl?" "Ah, no, I don't Ma'am." "Then you must be trying to give him a hard time. I know how to fix sassy white bitches who give me a hard time." Panther-like, the Amazonian female pounced on Bobbie and, in short order, he found himself tied into a salon chair. "Hey, you two lazy bitches. I want you." At the sound of their bosses voice, two of the black girls working in the shop sauntered over. "This piece of white bread says she wants to experience the finest in African-American beauty culture. Think we can help her girls?" A nasty laughter filled the room as the instructions were given. "I wants yo' tah show dis sugar pie every'ding. I wants her hair rowed and beaded. I wants her ears be pierced some more and do her nose. And not jes' a stud. I wants a ring in dere too. I want some lines shaved into her head. Then dress her in one of those new zebra-striped body stockings we jes' gahts." Terrified, Bobbie shrank in his chair as the cruel female came right up to his face. He could feel the hot, musky breath on his neck. "Now, this is a message. I don't want to see you again," the dominating sister demanded. "You got any money to pay for all this?" Crying now, Bobbie shook his head. "Well, that's all right, maybe we'll teach you the finest in Afro oral love arts before you go." ********* Hours later, Janice found Babs walking slowly home. The fat dildo in his ass ensured that his progress was very deliberate. As promised, his hair was a glory with rows and shaved lines. Multi-colored beads adorned every available strand of hair. his ears had been pierced repeatedly, as had his nose. And his increasingly girlish curves were poured into a zebra striped bodysuit. Janice pretended to be outraged but, frankly, it was a hot look. And clearly, Babs hated his appearance with a passion. Of course, that was a strong reinforcement to his tormentor that she had done the right thing setting him up like that. And best of all, there were cum stains all over the sissy's face, in his hair. God, the sissy must have really been trying to lap up every cock he met. Janice sat coldly through her stammering sissy's explanations. They had raped him, made Bobbie do perverted things. Both men and women, and he hadn't had any real choice. When Bobbie finished his red-faced confession, Janice put the humiliated male across her lap and administered Babs's first spanking. It would certainly not be his last! V. Months passed and Babs was desperate. He had more than enough reason. The hormones had gone a long way towards destroying his masculinity. His penis was shrunken and useless things. All the confining and figure- molding garments had worked devastating effects. No one would call his 36-20-42 bottom-heavy figure "masculine" now. Indeed, women passing by often rolled their eyes, whispering to each other about how Babs, with his fat ass, and bulging thighs, poured into spandex stretch pants, had "let herself go." Swiveling in high heels, Bobbie was utterly embarrassed to be seen at work in his tight, tight short-shorts or those awful straight skirts. The other workers had started to call him "Jiggles" to his face. One night, Bobbie had felt woozy and went to bed early. Maybe he was catching a cold. When he awoke, more than a month had passed. A month during which Janice had used the time to have breast implants inserted into Bobbie's hormone-plumped, but still immature, tits. Time enough for them to heal, time enough for Bobbie to be made wildly more female. "Wildly" was the right word. Big breasts, DD cups and ultra-round. There was no sag either. They looked artificial and felt like two sacks of lead on his chest. Bobbie's back muscles continually ached and he tried never to move without wearing one of his special underwired bras. Bobbie was only too happy to wear the ultra-stringent foundation garments from the attic now. The clothes, tight and glamorous but terribly dated, fit like a glove now. Babs had the perfect Fifties figure. The telephone rang and Bobbie minced over to answer it. His calls were monitored so that he had to answer and act as Janice demanded. "Hello. Who's calling?" "Hey, Kitten, it's Chuckie!" "Oh Baby, I missed you so much. Did you miss me too?" God, he's such a leech. And his hands never stop. Bobbie could feel his face getting red. It was so degrading to have to play hussy on the phone. "Yeah, I missed you, and I got something for you." "I bet you do," Bobbie giggled. "Is it long and hard?" Janice would be listening to this call on tape when she got home and she had given very definite instructions on how Babs was to act on the phone. "Well, look, I could stop over right now and maybe you could get a little of what I got for you?" "Mmmmm, I can't wait, Lover. Come right away for me." "I'm going to cum in you, that's what you got coming." The phone went dead. It was so awful. Ever since Bobbie had been raped, Janice had called him a slut and had insisted that Bobbie had done group sex because he liked it. Janice had run an ad: "Hot girl needs well hung studs!" Soon, Bobbie had a well-filled date book, and that led to a well-filled mouth. It had been Bobbie's mouth that had gotten him in trouble - talking too much, agreeing to leases that he didn't understand. Now, his mouth was getting him into trouble in a new way. Janice kept pictures of Bobbie giving head to guys, one at a time and more, in groups, black guys, orientals. Janice made Bobbie perform on video and watch to improve his technique, to become a blowjob artiste. Then she had gone on to arrange for hypnosis and radical behavior modification. Now, when a man walked into the same room as Bobbie, he couldn't help himself. His eye's went right to the guy's crotch. Thoughts kept drifting into his mind. I'm such a slut now. I can't help myself... DING-DONG! It might be Chuckie at the door but it might be Janice, just checking up. Quickly, Bobbie opened his blouse and plumped his fat breasts out of their wire cups. Kneeling by the door, Bobbie opened it to find Chuckie, penis dangling from his pants, waiting for his "girlfriend" to service him. Compulsively, Bobbie gobbled down the rapidly growing cock, using his mouth, fingers and breasts to bring Chuckie to full attention. It wasn't as humiliating as it once had been, Bobbie always thought as he sucked, I'm not gay. It's just that they think I'm a girl and if I don't satisfy them, they'll find out my secret. I have to do this. Thick, ropey spunk blasted down Bobbie's throat but not a drop escaped his tightly clamped lips. Jauntily, Chuckie zipped himself up and turned to leave. Panting, Bobbie looked up submissively at his latest lover. "Was I good?" Janice made him always ask that same humiliating question. The hidden video camera was catching all of this and Janice would check up when she got home. Yeah, Babe, you were great but sometime I'd love to fuck ya'." "Maybe next time, Stud. but not today." Fucking was Bobbie's dread. He would be exposed. The world would know that he was Janice's half-sexed sissy thing and then what would happen to him?" The phone was ringing and, disheveled, Bobbie made his way to answer. It was the office. Janice wanted him to get down there right now. After taking a minute to repair the damage done to his lipstick by the recent blowjob, Bobbie hurried out the door. VI. "They definitely suspect something. They want you to have a physical examination. Do you know why they would be asking for one now?" Miserably, Bobbie shook his head. Janice had been grilling him for the last half hour. "What does it mean ... if, if they find out ... that I'm really.." "A sissy ... a faggot .. a simpering punk dressed up as a hot-to-trot sex bunny. You tell me what it means!" "I'll be a laughing -stock and ..." "Oh, it's a lot more than that. You testified under oath that you're female. You perjured yourself. You'd go to prison and, with your juicy equipment, I bet you'll never be off your knees or your back." Janice left Bobbie sobbing and alone as she walked into another office. There were shouts and the sounds of a desk being pounded. Then, suddenly there was laughter. Bobbie didn't know which was worse. Janice returned. "There's one way out. If they expect a female, let's give them one." "But, Janice, I don't want to have a sex change. This, all this ... my looking female, ... it was all a deal we had, remember? I was supposed to get to be a man again after the case was settled." "Listen, Stupid. You can dress anyway you like after we're out of this. But right now, you just need a little cosmetic surgery to hide your masculine parts." "Hide?" "Sure. It's only temporary. We'll take your male equipment and put it in a plastic case and hide it. Don't worry, it's totally reversible and later on we'll restore everything." "Reversible?" "Definitely!" "You're sure I'll be wearing pants again?" "Absolutely!" Bobbie ached after he was released. His artificial vagina was remarkably life-like. He didn't want to tell Janice but sometimes, he could feel himself getting wet "down there" and sometimes he had a terrible need to squeeze his plump thighs together. Janice had kept her promise and let Bobbie wear pants now. Of course, it was worse than skirts would have been. His wardrobe was full of hot pants, in every color, in satin, spandex even latex. Before Bobbie had looked like a bimbo. Now, he looked like a whore. But it didn't matter, did it? It was all reversible. Soon, the case would settle and Bobbie could reverse his forced femininity and become Robert again. ********* Bobbie reported to the examination with Janice. The doctor, an old, fat, ugly man, had Bobbie disrobe. A nurse came in and started dressing Bobbie in what they told him was an "examination uniform." There was a white latex corset that left his breasts hanging free. White latex mittens were buckled over his hands and matching bracelets and a collar were locked onto his neck, wrists and ankles. Quickly, Bobbie found himself fastened, spread-eagle, to a large rotating frame. Then, a huge realistic dildo was worked into his fake pussy, followed by it's slightly thinner mate up his rear. They were vibrating. Bobbie couldn't help but moan at the stimulation. Wearing rubber gloves, the nurse rubbed a lineament into his breasts. Soon, they too were throbbing, only this time in pain. Bobbie lost all track of how long he hung there. The torture of it was that the vibrators never got him to orgasm and the lineament never cooled off. Suddenly, he was freed. A leash was attached to his collar and he was being led down a long hall. Before he could figure out what was going on, he was in a big conference room. The landlord was there. So too were all his lawyers. In fact, the room was full of men. Strong hands grabbed him and pulled him to the table. In a moment, Bobbie was on his back, being penetrated by one man after another. Some shot their load across his face. Others used one of his now very sloppy holes. Finally, he looked up to see the landlord, the man he had tried to trick with the promise of sex. Bobbie reached out to take his cock into his mouth. That's what he wanted, wasn't it? That's what they all want. The landlord pushed Bobbie's sticky hand away. Puzzlement crossed Bobbie's soiled features. A hot golden stream splashed in his face. The landlord was pissing on him! Bobbie couldn't explain why, but he opened his mouth and tried to catch the hot briny liquid in it. Hot piss ran down his breasts, mixing with the ropes of cum. Laughing, the men in the room stepped back as Bobbie's tormentor stopped the golden shower. "I don't know how you did it but you did. I told you I wanted the slut to come begging to me like the tramp she is, just so I could piss in her face. Just look at her. Janice walked up from the back of the room. A check was in her hand. Dazed, Bobbie read off the numbers as Janice held the check in front of his face. A half-million dollars! They were rich. It had been awful but Bobbie had done his part. Now all this humiliating female stuff would end and he could get back to being a man. Bobbie vowed that he'd never impersonate a woman again. His crossdressing days were over! But the leash was clipped back on and Bobbie found himself being pulled from the room and away from Janice. "Oh boys, let me explain to your little 'Babs-ie' just exactly what's happening to your shiny new little love pet." "Bobbie, dearest", Janice cooed. "This check is for more than just the lawsuit. You see, I leased you to these fine gentleman as their sex slave." "You really should learn to read the fine print Babs-ie. I don't know what they have planned for you, except that it will be very degrading, and they paid for extra for the right to do anything to you, and I mean anything! Why, they could even give you a lobotomy if you don't behave!" ********* Babs looked around the small apartment. She was forbidden to leave. Really, she didn't want to. Her breasts had been altered again, up to a HH cup. Two mammoth bags of tit-meat. They had done things to her face, other places too. With all her tattoos and piercings, it was just easier not to go out anymore. Babs looked at her only possession. Janice had told Bobbie that his male equipment would be put in a sealed in a plastic case and hidden. Indeed it had been. Babs wore the tiny container, in which Bobbie's testicles floated in formaldehyde, hidden between her breasts at the end of a chain around her neck. Babs' lease was up soon. Would Janice try to rent her out again, or even sell her outright? Janice drove a tough bargain and Babs knew that she had best play close attention to the fine print.