Affirmative Action Part 2
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Affirmative Action Part 1 free porn video
Stephen Knight leaned back on his chair, stretching his neck out to rid
himself of the cramp that had been building up. After a long, drawn-out
sigh, he leaned forward again and resumed his work. He found himself
reaching for his fourth coffee of the evening with increasing frequency
as the minutes crawled by.
The office had been especially busy in the past few weeks, since their
previous boss had been 'cycled out' (as the company had put it) and a new
man put in his place. The new boss, Michael Mansworth, was a lot younger,
and held himself with a suave confidence that oozed professionalism, but
he didn't actually appear to live up to the role of inspiring leader the
higher-ups seemed to think he'd so readily assume - though he was growing
steadily more popular with the women in the office. He actually appeared
to be shoving his own work downwards onto his subordinates' laps, and
wiling away his own office hours doing very little that was productive -
about as little as he was humanly able, Stephen personally reckoned.
In fact, the only area where Michael seemed to be putting genuine effort
into was in the firing, reallocation and hiring of his employees -
generally in that order. Within only a scant few weeks, Stephen's
division had seen half a dozen good men called into Michael's office for
extended talks at the end of a work day, the next morning their position
being handled by a transferred employee from somewhere else in the
division. Each time without fail - someone would get fired, an existing
employee would be transferred to replace them, and a new employee would
be hired to fill in the transferee's old position.
Sometimes this transferring had been as small a move as the woman in the
booth next door to them, other times the transferee would be from the far
side of the office. Then, to fill the transferred employee's position,
Michael would hire someone new that very day. Stephen was shocked that he
found the time to interview, especially since all this firing,
reshuffling and hiring happened within the space of a day with no prior
warning, and Stephen had yet to see Michael conducting any actual
interviews.
He might have suspected Michael of outsourcing the interviews were it not
for the hiring practice that he'd noticed within a week of it starting.
Each time a new employee would come in to fill the transferred employee's
place, Stephen would be shocked all over again at just how attractive the
inevitably female new recruits would be. Their un-conservative but
nonetheless businesslike attire would be more than complimentary to their
stunning physiques, and their faces and hair looked like they should be
advertising beauty products.
More than that, though, the women who'd already worked in the division
when Michael had taken over had not only been safe from the purge thus
far, but an increasing number of them appeared to be trying - and largely
succeeding - to keep up with their new colleagues in appearance as well
as work ethic. Many of his famously frumpy coworkers had undergone
dramatic transformations and were positively easy on the eyes, now.
One or two had even apparently got boob jobs, from the dramatic
difference in bust size, but most if not all must have received serious
makeovers in the face department, and had started slimming down to match
their new coworkers. Stephen's good friend Angie was one of the last
remaining holdouts, but she was famously oblivious to such things. His
wife mocked him mercilessly that considering Angie was his closest female
friend at work, she had nothing to worry about in regards to any
potential office liasons.
If Stephen hadn't been worried for his own job - since the fired workers
were equally inevitably men - he'd be almost tempted to think he and his
fellow remaining men at the office had majorly lucked out. Almost
tempted, anyway. He was more than satisfied with his wonderful wife,
after all, none of the romance having died out over their scant three
years of marriage. They'd been dating for four years before they tied the
knot, but even now their relationship felt as fresh and exciting as it
had that first day, almost a decade before.
It was his wife Denise that got him through his increasingly long hours
at work, the thought of her waiting for him at home that gave him the
mental fortitude to plow on through with the work that in all honesty his
boss should be doing. So he didn't waste too much time talking to Jim
from accounting when he finally clocked out that day, eager as he was to
get home.
He made himself stay for a small, conspiratory chat however, as he felt
his grievances desperately needed airing. If Michael's employment
practices kept up in the way he'd observed, all the men working for him
would be shuffled out for highly attractive women before two months were
up. He wanted to know if Jim or any of the other guys had noticed the
same, and felt that either way some fair warning had to be given. He
himself had been preparing for having to look around for other work
within the month.
After laying his case out to an incredibly skeptical and somewhat
condescending Jim, however, he wondered why he'd even bothered. The other
men seemed more than content, encouraging even, of Michael's pattern in
hiring, perhaps not seeing that they themselves could be given the boot
all too soon, and that the potential for flirting in their former office
would matter very little then. No helping some people, Stephen thought to
himself as he began the long drive home.
Denise had dinner on the table by the time he got home, and he noticed
from the number of places that his daughter Sherry had already eaten.
Denise picked up on his noting of this and gave him a what-do-you-expect
kind of smile. It's true, he was pretty late. Sherry was probably out at
a friend's again. The girl was socially hyperactive, if you asked
Stephen, but Denise insisted they should be celebrating and encouraging
her active social life, that it was healthy for a girl her age. Stephen
would roll his eyes, but leave the final decision with Denise. She was
the authority on girls in the house, after all. That, and she had a habit
of getting her way in most things, anyway.
"So I don't think Jim'll be coming over again for poker in the near
future" Stephen began, having eaten most of his meal in silence. Despite
that, he genuinely appreciated that Denise had waited until he arrived
home so they could eat together at least, but then she was particularly
good at picking up on the small things like that. She looked up, and her
eyes filled with a sympathetic worry.
"Has he been let go too, then?" Denise didn't really know any of
Stephen's colleagues despite their semi-regular poker nights, but she was
sympathetic to Stephen's increasing worries about his job security, and
believed (or at the very least humored) his theories on Michael's vision
for the office.
"No, no. I think I burned this bridge myself trying to warn him about
just that. He said I was being paranoid, that I should just enjoy the
eye-candy Michael was bringing in by the bucketload!" Denise snorted at
that, but it wasn't in humor so much as in derision. Her sympathy was
replaced by a satisfaction that this Jim person wouldn't be coming over
again. Fired or not, that wasn't an attitude she had any time for.
Stephen hadn't taken any offence at the crude remark itself, just at the
rest of the scorn he'd received for trying to warn Jim away from what he
saw as an inevitable reality. But if the man thought he was jumping at
shadows, seeing patterns where there weren't any, and was rambling on
like a madman, then he could suffer the consequences of being so unaware
by himself.
Jim shook his head in bemused disbelief. He'd always thought Stephen a
sensible, level-headed sort during their occasional poker nights, and
even just at the water cooler, but being on the receiving end of the kind
of rant you'd expect from a moon landing denying conspiracy nut had
forever dashed that vision. He supposed Stephen was one of those weirdos
who managed to blend in well enough with the rest of the world, but would
confide this kind of nonsense when agitated and expect everyone else to
secretly share the same crackpot theories.
Jim collected his project files and headed to Michael's office. Some men
had indeed been let go, but they were the bottom feeders anyway. Jim had
finished this project off this morning and had already received a summons
from Michael to hand it over and discuss his future at the company. While
the wastes of space and madmen like Stephen might be destined for a fall
under Michael's regime (handily replaced by workers who despite similar
levels of ineptitude were at least easy on the eye), Jim could see
Michael had a promotion-laden path laid out for him. The old boss had
never seen his potential, practically ignored his at-times visionary
suggestions, but clearly there was a new sheriff in town, and this one
had big plans for the company, and more importantly, for Jim.
He rapped his knuckles on Michael's door twice, and let himself in.
Michael was staring intently at something on the screen and looked up,
almost in alarm, at Jim's sudden entrance. He clicked at something on the
computer. "Jim," he said with forced enthusiasm, "great to see you. But
you really must remember my policy on knocking. Knock first, then wait
for me to acknowledge. Us higher ups need fair warning on these things.
Why, I could have files, not for ordinary eyes, strewn about this very
desk!" Jim's smile faltered at the beaming, polite rebuke. Michael's
already ear-to-ear grin somehow widened even further. "But I don't.
Please, sit down."
Jim breathed a sigh of relief, and his confidence returned. He placed his
project files down on the desk between them with a triumphant smack, and
looked up expectantly at Michael. Michael's eyes kept staring directly at
Jim, paying the files no attention whatsoever. After a moment, Jim,
thrown off ever so slightly, pushed the project files forwards towards
Michael. "Here is the project, sir. Finished up today, ahead of schedule
as you know. I've, er, noted some suggestions on potential follow-up
projects and ideal partners for each of these as well, in the seventh-"
Michael made an obviously artificial coughing sound, and Jim stopped
dead. He was utterly baffled at his boss's behavior.
"Yes, yes, I'll get to that, not to worry. Really, I've called you in
here to talk about you. Your future at the company. Where I see you
going." For a split-second, Jim had worried that Stephen was right after
all, but then realised that this was it - he was moving on up out of the
position he'd been stuck in for two years, and was continuing his climb
up through the company's ranks once again. Michael had stood up while Jim
had been reassuring himself, and was now pacing around the office and in
the space behind Jim's chair.
"As I'm sure you've all observed, I've been restructuring this division
I've been put in charge of. The form I found it in was simply
unsatisfactory. Stuffy, boring, ugly and inefficient. I'm here to spice
things up, to make it exciting and appealing to the higher-ups. The
changes I've already made have met with approval throughout and above the
division, you know," Jim nodded his own approval and agreement, but
Michael didn't look down at him.
"Part of that has been an increased focus on aesthetic standards in the
workplace. From the new brands of pens and stationary to the repainting
of the office interiors, I aim to leave not a single inch unimproved,"
Jim kept nodding and began to wonder if he was starting to look stupid,
merely nodding away in silence like this.
"So that brings me to you." Jim straightened up in his chair. "I've been
going through our employees one by one and giving them a little pep talk,
a little pat on the back, a little nip and a little tuck here and there,
and get them matching the wallpaper as you might say. You're almost
entirely without fault, though, Jim," Jim beamed back up at Michael at
that. Michael reached forwards and put his hand loosely around Jim's tie.
Jim stood, feeling it the appropriate thing to do, as Michael looked down
at the tie with apparent concern.
"This tie, though..." Jim waited for him to continue, but Michael instead
violently thrust his hand forwards. Jim almost stumbled back a bit in
reaction to the motion, but instead of the hard shove his brain told him
to expect, he felt a powerful tightening in his upper chest. He looked
down, and saw Michael's arm imbedded in his front as if puncturing him,
the fist entirely submerged. He had flashbacks of some old movie where a
priest had ripped the heart from a man's chest, but here there was no
pain, no blood, only this tight, twisting pressure and a sense of utter
bewilderment at this inexplicable turn of events.
The twisting magnified in an instant, and he clamped his eyes shut at the
sensation. The twisting sensation in his chest now seemed to be pulling
the rest of his body along with it, as if Michael turning his hand pulled
the rest of Jim's body in turn. The skin all over his body felt
tightened, pulled and squeezed tight, and even his bones were shifting in
place, pulled by this full-body tightening. They cracked into new
positions, and even seemed to shrink as they did so. His hips were pulled
out, and his rear seemed to expand despite the inward-twisting pulling
that he felt. It became large, but remained tight and firm.
A similar situation was occurring in his chest, near the centre of the
sensation, as his pectorals began to twist in shape and then push out
from their position level with the rest of his chest, bursting forth and
threatening to rip open his shirt. The top few buttons did in fact pop
off as the growths continued to expand outwards.
His face, feet and hands experienced the most intense shifting, snapping
and cracking of bones into their new positions and the number of small
bones found new positions in the twisting form. Here even the tiniest
detail appeared to be changing, snapping to conform to some entirely new
anatomical design.
Some small part of him noticed the hair snaking down his back being
noticeably curlier and softer than his own, but he was far more concerned
with the ambiguous, hard-to-follow but nonetheless intense tightening and
twisting his crotch was experiencing. He could barely feel where his
penis began or where his balls sat anymore, as all the sensations were
mixed up, compressed, and relocated. Not to mention bizarre new
sensations began emanating from around that area, further confusing what
he could muster of his faculties under the situation.
As suddenly as it had begun, the sensations subsided. Jim felt a
wrenching in his chest and he opened his eyes to see Michael removing his
hand from its illogical place inside him. Jim might have noted the lack
of a wound as Michael did so, but his eyes and attention were instead
fixated at the generous bosom he now found himself in possession of.
"This tie looks a lot better nestled between those babies." Jim looked up
at Michael as his boss finished his earlier train of thought, but didn't
follow. The shock of the transformation made any prior events seem like
days ago. Michael looked up at him again. "Now Jane, dear, don't be
distressed. I never leave a remodelling job half-finished," With that,
Michael poked his finger into Jim's, now Jane's, forehead, and she felt
it poke into her head in a similar fashion to the fist that had pierced
her formerly male chest.
This time though it didn't bring on a physical, twisting sensation nearly
so much as it did an airy, lightheaded, slippery state of mind, where her
very thoughts seemed to turn to goop. She could feel Michael tinkering
about and refashioning her thoughts much as she had felt him reform her
body, but this time her mind was powerless to struggle against it, and
her whole body was too limp to do so physically, had she even been able
to think to try.
Jane could see with her mind's eye new preferences, an acceptance and an
embracing of Michael's ability to change her very mind from the inside,
and she was powerless as she resented him for doing so, then found
herself unable and unwilling to even do that, as he brushed those
feelings and values away, securing these new preferences in their place.
She felt her previous passions, interests and lusts tossed out of her
head entirely, no longer feeling that possessive trophyism that had
defined her relationships as a man. In its place Michael was sculpting an
utter devotion to the idea of obedience, an adoration of Michael himself,
and a powerful lust for the male form, with the most perfect example her
mind could summon up being Michael himself. Her mind seemed to shudder at
the changes that on a reasonable level she knew were betrayals of
everything she had been, but Michael had left her incredibly pleased at
the turn of events, and at the changes he wrought with each passing
moment.
When he was done, he plucked his finger from her forehead as if from some
viscous fluid, and stood back to admire his creation. Her state of mind
returned to a normal, thinking person, Jane tried to piece together what
had taken place. She knew he'd gone into her mind just as he had her
body, and reformed it to his own liking. She was no longer on the hunt
for women to get into bed, which felt strange. She knew instead that her
only desire now was to tempt Michael into pounding her hard, dominating
her and possessing every part of her. She also knew that this was
tasteless and revolting to her previous self, and so she was immensely
pleased that Michael had removed this revulsion from her entirely. Now
she had none of her silly hangups and ambitions, just one goal she
thought herself readily capable of achieving - offering herself up as
Michael's possession. If she wasn't one already.
"So... you remade me," Jane said, knowing it sounded stupid, but her still-
confused state made it hard to know what to say. Michael had just been
staring at his craftsmanship in admiration, and hadn't offered any words
of his own, so she was determined to take the initiative, however
clumsily. It was better than standing there getting wet at the sight of
Michael and the thoughts of what he might do to her, anyway. This thought
had triggered another warning light in her mind, one of those phantom
worries from her previous self, who would've been horrified at such a
thing. Instead, she just knew that this was something she would've
previously hated, and loved Michael even more for taking that away from
her.
Michael raised his eyes to hers in response, sending an electric thrill
through her body and she bit her lip. "Another fine masterpiece, if I do
say so myself. Come on over here, Jane, and get yourself out of those
awful, ill-fitting clothes. They just don't suit the new you," Jane
happily stripped down as she paced over to Michael, tossing aside her
boxer shorts as she reached him, and stood there naked, their faces
inches apart, getting more and more turned on by what she knew would come
next. He smiled at her and picked her up, placing her plump behind onto
his desk before he let his dick out of his pants and, grabbing her by the
wrists, slid her onto it without ceremony.
Jane's excitement had reached fever-pitch when she'd first caught a
glimpse of his glorious member, and moments later as she was being pulled
gently down onto it, she let out a sweet sigh of satisfaction that
quickly morphed into an open-mouthed moan of utmost pleasure. Her pussy
welcomed him in perfectly down to the hilt, as it had been designed with
his specifications in mind, and he began pumping in and out of her. She
matched his rhythm after a few moments, her hips initially caught between
shuddering and bucking in the direction of his hungry cock.
He released her wrists only to grab her the top of her hips for better
leverage, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his chest in order
to pull herself down onto his shaft with more force. This fast, powerful
lovemaking was sending them both over the edge at a rate of knots. She
had never felt or even conceived of something so intense, the sensations
bubbling away like molten lava in her crotch but spreading out through
her entire body like wildfire, pleasure of varieties and strengths she'd
never thought possible as a man rocking her mind and body to their cores.
Part of her recalled the women she'd slept with as Jim, memories of being
in the dominant position over them, of being the piercer rather than the
pierced, and it only served to enhance her pleasure to be thought of as
fulfilling that role now, being a tool, a receptacle for this man's heat,
lust and satisfaction, the way she'd thought of women during sex when she
had been the man. She felt now like she was born for that position, an
object into which Michael could release his burning passion.
Her thoughts became less and less coherent, but no less focused on the
man who was ripping away the last remnants of her old self away with
every incredible thrust of his rigid cock, around which her body was
wrapped in worship and adoration. He readjusted his position within her
ever so slightly, and the very next thrust speared his dick directly into
a point she hadn't known even existed within her, that set off even more
incredible reactions within her sensual new body.
At that point, her mind entirely lost its ability to think straight, let
alone continue to re-identify and re-assign itself, and it began to white
out from the rapidly approaching eruption. He upped the force with which
he pistoned himself into her, and only a few powerful thrusts later, they
exploded in mutual orgasm.
All the new heights to which Jane had been taken through the previous few
minutes now seemed almost insignificant in comparison to the orgasm that
rocked her. Her mind was wiped clean, her vision blacked out momentarily
and the powerful pleasure within her intensified to the point that it was
her entire being. She didn't even hear the wordless scream that burst
forth from her lungs at that moment, echoing throughout the entire floor
of the office building. He pumped his white-hot semen into her, burning a
path through her convulsing pussy deep into her womb, only enhancing the
blazing heat in her loins and her continuing climax.
She bucked her hips and continued to enjoy her intense, mind-blowing
orgasm as he thrust a few times more, finishing off his own crescendo.
She lay back on the desk spasming in intensity even as he pulled out of
her and wiped himself clean. Her own juices dripped onto the floor, but
she was in no danger of noticing.
As she lay there panting in her afterglow, now returned to the realm of
conscious thought, he leaned over her magnificent breasts and smiled.
"Angie will be taking over your old position tomorrow, and our newest
employee, Jane, will be filling the space she leaves. I'll have some
appropriate attire delivered to your apartment tonight. Don't be late,"
His businesslike manner didn't bother her at all, and in fact excited
herself somewhat. She knew that when she got home she'd be experimenting
and exploring some more, and his image wouldn't leave her head all night.
She wondered if she'd even hear the deliverymen arrive.
The next day, when Stephen went to talk to Angie, he found instead
another new beauty working at her old desk. The woman's incredible looks
were somehow improved by her evident exhaustion, the bags under her eyes
clashing with her expensive, fresh new clothing in a bizarrely erotic
contrast. Jane smiled at Stephen and directed him to Angie's new
workstation, Jim's old desk. Momentarily relieved that she hadn't been
fired, he now knew that Jim had. Timely, he thought with some of the
previous evening's bitterness still lurking there. After a moment's
reflection though, he found that honestly - despite Jim's rudeness - he
didn't really feel that Jim had deserved the fate that he'd suffered.
Jeannie
- 05.01.2023
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