Condemned free porn video

CONDEMNED Alas, here I sit in the condemned cell. Tomorrow morning at 8:00 am ********* ceases to exist. This is truly the end. Of course I deserved it. Unlike most criminals, I won't lie. I won't pretend that I hadn't done all those things to so many women. Just as the judge had said. In fact there was so much more that the judge didn't know about. I had tried to get help in the only way I could find. But it didn't happen. So now I was to pay the most extreme price possible. CAPITAL PUNISHMENT. My body and my life were no longer mine. I was to be disposed of... cast aside...written off as beyond redemption. Despite the enlightened view of the world this punishment is designed to be so extreme as to be beyond even the hangings of so many years ago. You see they expunge every record. Everything that might say I ever existed. No birth or death certificates, passports, bank accounts or bills. Nothing. Even these court records. Once the sentence is carried out then they too will be eliminated. The sentence didn't happen. There was no trial, no defendant. Absolutely nothing. I am only permitted to write these last words as long as I don't attempt to identify myself. The purpose of them is to serve as a deterrent. For others to read and be aware of the horrible sanctions that society can impose if it feels the need to. But perhaps I should recap on these penalties and the reasons for them. You will all be aware of the "get tough on crime" policies that took root in the late twentieth century. Where more and more people were being imprisoned for less and less reason. And the inevitable consequences. The cost of these prisons had grown so much that even all the taxes collected were not sufficient to pay for them. The country was simply falling apart at the seams. Massive deficits. Unworkable industry. You see as the problem grew there was a need for ever higher taxes. But of course the privileged and the wealthy could avoid paying the tax. The ones asked to pay couldn't afford it so they had no choice but to turn to crime. And so the situation worsened every day. Naturally the affluent demanded, and got, protection from all these undesirables. But this increased the costs still further. Then something happened. It didn't seem relevant at first. Indeed the discovery was quite unrelated to crime at all. While trying to find a cure for cancer, the researchers discovered a way to completely give a person a new body. A different one. To transform their diseased organs into new healthy ones. It didn't take long for people to see how this could be used for other purposes. Criminals could give themselves a new identity and be completely beyond the reach of law. The wealthy could give themselves a young body and effectively achieve immortality. And of course a sex change could be simply and effectively achieved. Sigh. How simple. But nothing good lasts forever. Using the criminals as a pretext the government seized all the machines. They could only be used on a court order. No longer available to the general public. Then someone had a brilliant thought. THEY could transform the criminals into a body of THEIR choosing. Perfect. There is no escaping the punishment. Once transformed they can be released into the community. The bodies can be chosen to absolutely prevent them from recommitting the offenses. And if they try to run away then they are simply stuck. Imprisoned for ever. So all those expensive gaols can be closed permanently. Now here is the rest of it. It couldn't be a punishment if people were permitted to choose it voluntarily. So elective sex changes became a thing of the past. Indeed elective anything was now gone. Even its original purpose for helping people with terminal organ disease was now effectively impossible. It is important for you to know all this so you understand my real motives and actions. Vividly I can picture the court room. "You ****** X, are a blight upon society, a scourge, a threat to women everywhere...." Yes, yes I knew that. I had heard it so many times before. "You will be transformed for the term of your natural life. And may God have mercy on your soul" I could sing. I could dance. I wanted to rush up and kiss the judge. At last I finally had what I had really wanted all my life. As I said, this wasn't the first time. I could remember that clearly. I had seen a woman walking home from work near a quiet park. I took my opportunity and quickly grabbed her. I didn't want to cause her harm but I quickly felt my hands up under her clothes and groped her body. I told her that if she was quiet and patient then soon enough she would be released. Unharmed. I had no wish to hurt her in any way. True to my word, when I had my fill of the pleasures her body offered me, I picked her up, apologized and helped her smooth her clothes. I apologized for my conduct again and made good my escape. For that I was arrested and sentenced to my first transformation. "You are an affront to women" " In consequence thereof you will spend TWENTY FOUR HOURS as an ordinary housewife to better learn the error of your ways" Twenty four hours of bliss. I had to make the most of it. I was required to turn up very early in the morning so that I could make my husband breakfast in bed. This I did in accordance with the terms of my sentence. John was lying there, asleep and so innocent. Gently I woke him. "Time to wake up John. I know that you have a busy day ahead of you. Please enjoy your breakfast." John looked at me with loving round eyes. "You are the most wonderful woman a man could ever be married to" "I can't imagine why you ever chose me" As a woman compliments like this WORK! I felt a bit weak around the knees for a moment before recovering my composure. Not only was I spending the day married but I had a loving husband as well. What a "punishment". Unfortunately it was only for a day THIS TIME. Of course there would have to be other times. I hoped that one day I would be punished permanently. There is no point explaining the rest of the day fully. I spent my day in house duties. Cleaning and cooking for my husband. And of course there was the night. A night spent snuggled up against a warm tender loving man. How I wished that the night would never end. That I didn't have to go back to the court in the morning and have my punishment reversed. All too soon it was over. There I was. Back once more. Back in my own hated body. I don't know what Gods I had offended to be born into this life. I must have lived as an absolute arsehole in my previous existence to be sent back like this. I envied women. I thought of how lucky they had been. All the pleasures and privileges they were offered from the time they were tiny. Look at any magazine anywhere. What is on the cover? Women. Special government departments for "women's affairs". Equal opportunities FOR WOMEN ONLY. Over and over all I see is a world that is geared towards offering women every help, every assistance, and every facility. Look at all the clothes shops with all the beautiful clothes. For women. And for men? I can't even TOUCH a child for fear of being accused as a child molester. There is this presumption that everything bad in the world is caused by men. And that somehow women represent everything that is good in the world. Good and evil. And I was born into the evil team. I had to find a way to escape this fate. And the courts were the only way. My next victim was a young girl. I found her in a quiet street. I took her from the street and I made sure I used my own car. I hoped that someone would get my number plate. To help, I screeched my tyres and slammed the brakes on fiercely at the roundabout. Hopefully someone would notice and report me. I felt for the poor scared girl in my car. I wanted to reassure her. I wanted to tell her that I had no interest in scaring her. In fact I really didn't want to do this at all. But I had no choice. This was my only hope and she was merely the innocent victim. I took her to a remote place and pulled down my pants. I made her touch my expanding organ. That look. The look in her eyes of revulsion and horror. How I hated it. I was the bastard. The evil aggressor. I would much rather have picked her up in my big strong arms and take her for an ice cream. I would have loved to see joy in her eyes, not loathing. I persisted with my plan. She was to lick me. For all the physical sensations I thought "enough is enough" You have hurt this girl long enough. I hated myself for what I had done. Perhaps this time the courts would free me from this agony. I took out a twenty dollar note from my wallet. " I am very sorry for this. I know you can't understand but please. Here is a little something. I would like you to buy something nice for yourself. Something to help make up for this awful time you have had to endure" With that I drove her back as close as I dared and dropped her off. I wished her luck and watched briefly as she ran for her life. Needless to say I was found quickly enough. The court case was a foregone conclusion. " A child molester, and a pervert. You are a disgrace to humanity. If it was up to me I wouldn't leave you on this earth a moment longer. But it isn't up to me. The prescribed punishment is to spend the next MONTH as a little girl. Just like the one you attacked. To learn what it is like to be a victim and to mend your wicked ways." "Bailiff, take this .. this.. ratbag to the cells to await his punishment." Bang with the gavel and that was that. A month. Better than nothing I suppose but I had hoped for a lot more. After all I had not only scared the child witless but I had made her do sexual acts too. She may suffer nightmares from this and the sentence is only a month. I wanted to join the demonstrations outside. "Get tough on crime. Too much leniency. Sentences are too short. Only a month. It should have been at least a year. No! More!" The crowd bayed for blood. My blood. And I would have been only too happy to give it to them. I WANTED a longer sentence and this silly judge thought he was being kind to me in giving me another chance. Curse him. I would serve out my sentence and enjoy every second of it. But when it was over? I was going to have to find another victim and do something even worse. Poor girl. Whoever she is. It isn't her fault. I wish I didn't have to do it. I hoped that somehow, one day, they would be able to forgive me. They would understand and pity me. Realize that they were the lucky ones, not me. But first the sentence. You have no idea. From the instant I stepped out of the transformer machine I felt as though a world was lifted from my shoulders. There I was . Smooth and naked and innocent. It is hard to know how old I was but it might have been as much as nine. Quickly the female wardens dressed me in some form of rough prison garb. Hardly a great start. But I wouldn't have to stay in these rough cotton garments for long. Soon I will be at my foster parent's house. With luck they will spoil me and soon have me as the girl I wished to be. I would be the best girl they ever had. Not one moment would I do anything that would offend them. Perhaps they would speak for me and ask if they could just keep me. Just as I am. Hope upon hope. Wish upon wish. I knew the world didn't work like this. But what is the harm in imagining? In dreaming? Without hope there is nothing. In the real world what hope was there? But here in my punishment. I was out of that "real" world for the next month. In this world I could have everything I wanted. But ONLY for the month. I lay down on the bed and cried my eyes out. "See, that is what you get for breaking the law", it was my foster mother. "I don't hate you. I care about you. But you must learn the error of your ways. You are stuck here for the next month and there is no point crying about it. " "Tomorrow we will go to town and I will buy you some pretty clothes. Maybe that will cheer you up". If she had any idea WHY I was crying she would have been aghast. It wasn't because of the punishment . Of that I was absolutely certain. I took off my rough clothes. My "mum" had laid out a beautiful silky pink nightie. That was very thoughtful of her. I wondered if she thought that this was part of the punishment. Making me feel a very girly girl so that I would understand how they felt. I hoped that she would make this punishment as severe as she could. I hopped into the bed and to my surprise fell asleep in next to no time. I must have slept very soundly. When I awoke there on the foot of the bed was a nice set of clean clothes. Not the prison ones. But girl clothes. I was disappointed that they hadn't chosen a dress for me. I had a top and shorts. A bit different from what a boy would wear. The shorts were much shorter and tighter and they showed my little body off like a second skin. But they were still shorts. The top was just a t-shirt really. Except that it had a V front. If I was older it would have given a glimpse of my breasts but at this age that was just wishful thinking. I had nothing to show. Nothing to impress others with. Not at this age. Oh well. I have to make the best of it. I brushed my hair over and over until it gleamed. I made sure the top was as tight as I could get it. Every part of me had to be just right. I wanted to make a good impression. Proudly I stepped out of the room and went to breakfast. "Let's have a look at you, my little princess. Turn around and lets see." I pirhouetted on the spot. Showing off my dainty little legs. Trying to fill the clothes perfectly. Straight and firm. Finally dad whistled. "Wow" I had always wanted a daughter. But you, you are magnificent. I wonder if I could get some time off work so I could come with you and mum" " I wish" he said. My little heart was bursting with pride. If in just one morning I could get "dad" to want to take time from work just to be with me, what could I do with a whole month. My mind filled with thoughts of how I could make myself into the perfect daughter. Not just perfect. Beyond that. Into the dream daughter . The one that parents read about and always compare their own to. "Why couldn't you be like......" Well that was what I WAS going to be like. I was going to be the one that every family in the district would envy. The one that every parent would willingly swap for their own daughter if given one tenth of a chance. And so it was. I had a great day with mum. Trying on many clothes all of which I wanted. But I wasn't greedy. I kept my eye on the price tag and made sure that anything I chose was reasonable. Easy care fabrics. Not too many and make sure there is a variety to suit all conditions without needing as many. Mix and match. That is what they call it. After a while I saw a lovely blouse. Not for me. For mum. I asked her to try it on. "No dear, I am too old for such extravagances. I have a perfectly functional blouse on right now." "Mum, you aren't dead yet. Far from too old. Try it on. I think it would suit you. And besides. What do you think dad would say if you dressed up for him a bit? Don't you think he deserves a bit of consideration too? I don't want this day to be just about me." With that her resolve dissolved. She picked up the garment and walked to the changing room. I hoped she would be pleased with my choice. Needless to say it suited her perfectly. I don't know why she had almost given up dressing for fun rather than just for function. She may have felt guilty about the money but one look at her and I didn't think dad would have any complaints at all. And so it was. Dinner was a little burned that evening. I think mum must have been a bit distracted. She went into the bedroom with dad to show him HER new clothes. It seemed to take a surprisingly long time too. I had MY new clothes to show also but it seemed polite to wait until after dinner. Next day I had to go to school. It is amazing how bitchy so many of the girls are. Their first ability to be bitchy comes from the clothes. Some criticize you for "trying too hard" or for "being slutty". Others condemn you as "not having any fashion sense" or for "not caring about your looks". It is all so trivial and pointless. Don't they have anything better to do than to focus on looks? Why are they so determined to bring others down rather than encourage and build them up? Even in paradise there is always a fly in the ointment. "Bring back school uniform", I muse. "At least everyone LOOKS like everyone else so one disaster is avoided". In the meantime I had to find my own friends. People who were compatible with myself. There were so many children in the school that it didn't take as long as I expected. Soon enough there were a group of us talking and playing together. This made me feel a lot safer. Surrounded by others I didn't feel strange or different. Just one of the girls. However I did make one big exception. I had made my vow to be the best daughter I could be. So in class I would work. Outside class I could play. "Work hard, play hard" seemed like a pretty good motto. Doing this I found that I completed all of the schoolwork in less than half the class time so I thad plenty of time to finish the homework as well. This might have been a mistake. My parents would expect me to have homework and here, on the first day, I had none. Oh well. Nothing for it now. After school I tore up all the homework that I had finished so that I could demonstrate my willingness to work that evening. And so it went. Strangely I didn't resent all the extra work that I had chosen to do. Sometimes I cooked dinner, or helped with the cleaning. But the more I did the more my parents responded to me. When it came to the weekend, dad told work that he wasn't going to be there. He Iwas going to spend time with his family. On the Saturday we all went for a picnic together. I chose functional clothes rather than fussy ones. That meant that I was able to play games with dad. To throw balls and to run and jump. At one point he grabbed my arms and whirled me around him. I was flying. Later I gave mum and dad some time together while I spent some time on a swing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them on the picnic rug. Holding hands. Just as two lovers should. Not as two old and jaded married folk sometimes are. The day was a great success. All of us had a wonderful time. I felt as though I was a real daughter to them and in return I was treated, not as a complete child, but as a growing and intelligent human. It meant that I could have the best of both worlds. The love and the protection that is offered a child and the trust and recognition that is offered to a much older person. As you would recall, this was all part of a plan. A strategy. A means to an end. But that was no longer a major issue. I ENJOYED the role I was now in. I loved being a girl and being their daughter. It was wonderful to be able to dress in soft frilly pretty things when I wished, or to act as a son would have at other times. To be both a son and a daughter in one happy package. It was good to be able to pull off the day's clothes and replace them with a simple but soft nightie prior to being tucked into bed at night. I did experiment under the bedclothes. After all I was curious to say the least. I can confirm that even at my young age the equipment I had worked perfectly. I could only guess that it would improve if I ever had the chance to find out. "Let your fingers do the walking" trumpeted one ad I could remember. It seemed terribly appropriate now. One thing I did discover is that I needed a very different technique from that which I used as a male. A much broader pressure. Any attempt to be too direct lead to uncomfortable feelings. Not feelings of pleasure. I was excited about each day. Even going to school. I was a part of my circle of girlfriends not an outsider looking in. I was shocked at some of what they discussed. Men would never talk about that. Although I was well aware of the bitchiness that I had seen, I was also impressed by the openness and the frankness of the conversations. Sometimes they would talk up a sexual fantasy and it had all the desired effects. The whole world was a complete revelation. And of course there were still all the lessons. But I didn't find them boring. It seemed that the more effort I made, the more absorbing the process was. It had been boring enough for me when I was a male because I never put in any effort. So the teacher droned on and I wasn't a part of that world. But here I hung on the words. I could see how they related. I had become a "swot" and I really didn't care. After a few weeks I had to sit a few tests. I wasn't worried the night before because I knew that I had done the work. The tests were no problem. I could have answered far more than they asked. I just had to get it all down on paper. I was shocked at how easy the writing was too. Gone was the rough and almost illegible scrawl. Even though I had to write fast, the result was beautiful and neat. It was so much easier to be a good student as a girl than it ever had been as a boy. One morning mum and dad told me to get dressed into my best clothes and take extra care with my hair. Dad had taken time off work. One look at his face told me that he was very upset over something. They didn't tell me what it was about. They just put me in the car and drove with stony faces to the courtroom. "Of course" I had only been sentenced to a month. It was time for the hearing to decide if I had been rehabilitated. I should have mentioned that for serious offences the return was not automatic. It required a judge to weigh up the evidence to determine if the sentence should be extended or finished. Now I knew that I had been a good daughter. And my parents had told me that they didn't know what they would do without me. All they had to do was to explain the situation to the judge. My body quivered with excitement at the thought. "Your honour. This young lady has become such a part of our family. I cannot bear to part with her" "Yes, yes that's the way tell him, dad" "But that would be selfish of us both" "No, no not selfish at all. Don't be like that" "She has done such a remarkable change that I am absolutely certain that she has learned the lesson and is entitled to resume her previous life as a man" "After this experience I can't see that he will ever be a threat to other women again. He surely understands exactly what it is like to be a girl and would never wish to harm one again" My heart sank all the way through the floor. After everything. It was all for nothing. In a few minutes my "punishment" would be over and once more I would be back to being the creature that I had learned to hate. All too soon that was exactly what happened. I was put into the transformer. Quickly and secretly I lifted my dress to have one last look at what I had been. Then suddenly there was a bit of a buzz and there I was. Back as my male self. Released. Free. "Blast!" I knew that it was going to take something more serious to get myself permanently reassigned. Something that would make them sit up and take notice. Something that was serious enough so that they wouldn't dare let me go back to being a man again. Ever. The one horrible thought was that some other poor person was going to have to suffer first. I wished it wasn't so but I couldn't find any other way. I couldn't ASK to be reassigned. It was reserved as a punishment for serious sexual offenses. Ha. How was this helping anyone? Who was being protected? I had tried a sexual molestation and I had tried child molestation. What was left that I could try? I simply HAD to get back into that courtroom and become sentenced again. Hopefully this time for a life sentence. There was only one thing that I could think of. But the thought horrified me. I was going to have to rape a person. That should be enough to finally make them throw the book at me. And so it went. I saw a likely looking young woman alone near a park. So up I went. My heart thumping and my head pounding. " Excuse me please miss. I don't want to alarm you but I am afraid that I simply must rape you" "Piss off you perverted prick" was the unexpected response. And I knew that this was going to be a bit harder than I first thought. Perhaps an older woman might be a more pliable target. So after a while I spotted another one. This one would have been in her thirties now. Far from the first bloom of youth. Up I went to her. "Excuse me please ma'am but I was watching you from the other side of the street and I can't go on like this. I have no real choice. I can't control myself for much longer. I am determined to rape you." Much more forceful than the first time. Perhaps she will see that I mean business. "Now, now. I have heard a few pick up lines in my time but this one is certainly a doozy" "Why not just buy me a couple of drinks like all the other fellows do? When you're my age and your husband has left you I'm not exactly resisting now. Come on. Lets go to the pub and see what you're made of" Again not the response I was expecting. Hardly likely to achieve my objective. But now I had the added problem. If I tried to leave I would insult her. And that simply wouldn't do. So dutifully I went to the pub with her. To cut a long story short she poured out some of her problems and I spoke of some of mine. We went back to her place and spent the night together . Consoling each other. Strangely it felt pretty good. I know that it isn't what I wanted, but there could be a lot worse things than spending time with a woman that actually treats you as a human being. One with real feelings. I just had to get away before my resolve faltered. I was falling. I thanked her for a wonderful night and promised to be in touch soon. Five nights later, I tried it again. This time I had a knife with me. I have to make them realize that I am serious. So there. That's the one. A young woman in a short skirt. Now she shouldn't be walking the streets like that. A target if ever there was one. "OK, lady. Don't make a sound and no one gets hurt" That was a pretty good line if I do say so myself. Commanding. Domineering. A line to get respect. "I want to rape you. Make you pay for all those bitches that keep trying to make me suffer. This time it is your turn" "Of course dear. She said. For $200 you can have exactly that. If you want to throw in another hundred then I can even dress up and be a cute young virgin for you. How's that?" "Er um ahh you see. " How does one respond to a retort like hers? It just isn't fair. All I wanted to do was find someone to rape. And three times I had been completely floored by an unexpected response. I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a rapist. And without that my last chance to be given a gender change evaporated. I was truly stuck. Stuck in a body I hated. Stuck in a life that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I thought of the families that I had shared. And the woman I was with last week. Oh I envied others their lives. But some things just aren't meant to be. Suddenly my thoughts were broken by a muffled scream. There, in the park, behind some bushes. I heard it again. My blood froze. A woman was scared out of her wits. Something is seriously wrong. Running as fast as I can I see it. There. A woman on the ground with some man, some animal, on top of her. Inside me something snapped. This isn't the way to treat a lady. I still had the knife and I came up behind the guy and held the knife against that part of his male anatomy that was exposed between his legs. "Listen Mister. I said. You have about two seconds to get up and go if you want to keep these for another day." I pressed the point gently against his scrotum. "Actually I don't know. Maybe I should just do it anyway. Make the world a bit safer. " By now the would be rapist was rapidly deflating. He was starting to sweat and tremble. Begging for me to just let him go. He even offered me the money in his wallet. "Take it, take it all. Just ... for Christ's sake get that knife away from there." "Come on man. I was just having a little fun." I don't know where the strength came from but I shoved him off. He just grabbed his clothes and ran. So fast I hardly had time to note which way he went. Or what he looked like. I didn't care. I had saved this woman. At last I was doing something positive with my life. Maybe I had been approaching this wrong. It isn't that being a man was the problem. It was the TYPE of man I was being. Now was the time to make a change. I bent over the poor lady. She had fainted. Gently I tried to rouse her. And that is when the police came. They found me there. On top of her. With a knife in my hand no less. My story of the other man didn't impress them at all. Why was I there with the knife? Why was I there at all? Was there any sign of the "other" man. But the most damning statements came from the woman herself. She kept trying to attack me. With her nails, her fists, her legs anything at all. And her testimony was that I had tried to rape her. So with all of that the outcome of the case was a forgone conclusion. "And so ********, I suppose you have heard of the 'three strikes and you're out' policy? As a repeat offender, indeed a three time repeat offender, the court has no time left for leniency. This time there is no coming back. No rehabilitation. "You will be transformed for the term of your natural life. And may God have mercy on your soul" "It is the order of this court that your transformation shall be for the purpose of making you contribute something back to the world from which you have hitherto only taken from." "You will no longer be permitted to make your own decisions. Not about anything. You will be controlled at every turn. Your body will not be your own. It will be owned. And everything, even eating or sex, even your very life itself will be entirely at the pleasure of your new master." "Slavery " I thought " didn't that go out three hundred years ago?" And while I was trying to understand the sentence the judge went on. But I really wasn't listening. I understood that I was to be transformed for life. To live life as a female such that all women would be protected from me. What I hadn't expected was the type of female I was to become. Henceforth I was to be... A DAIRY COW!