The Society Witness Protection
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TG Author Protection free porn video
TG AUTHOR PROTECTION SERVICE
By
Mel Huntington
The author welcomes feedback at [email protected]
After slipping my keys and wallet back into my pockets, I checked my
watch as I slipped it back onto my wrist.
7:58 AM.
I turned away from the security checkpoint and walked with several
others toward a long line that ran against the south-side wall of the
building. When I got there, the man in front of me made eye contact,
and he spoke.
"I swear, the worst thing you can do is show up for Jury Duty once.
They get you in here, and they figure 'OK, we got a new sucker. Keep
sending out the notices.' I get called down here every damn year now."
"Same here, buddy." I replied. "And the thing is, if you ignore a
summons, do they really send the cops after you? But if you obey it
once, I bet they will send an officer out if you ever stop showing up."
"No doubt." He said.
The line started moving, just as I anticipated. At least if you've done
this before, you know exactly what's going to happen. Eight o'clock,
doors open and people file in. Find a seat and wait. Eight thirty,
they start checking you in. Eight forty five, they play that ridiculous
civics video about how important the jury is to truth, justice and the
American way. And at 9:00, they start calling groups of jurors to go to
somebody's courtroom for Voire Dire. That's Latin for "listen closely
to what the judge tells you about the case, then figure out what kind of
attitudes you should express to make sure that one or the other lawyer
uses a peremptory challenge to keep you off their jury."
At least the Palm Beach County Courthouse has pretty good amenities:
PCs to check email, plenty of vending machines, and a few DVDs to keep
you distracted, if you didn't bring a book. Last time, I recalled, I
saw the Will Smith movie "Hitch" which turned out to be much funnier
than I expected.
Everything went like clockwork, or as close to clockwork as any
government bureaucracy can achieve, until about 9 AM, when my name was
called over the public address system. They had to call it twice before
I realized I was wanted.
I walked up to the desk, annoyed that I would lose my prime seat - in a
short row of only two seats, I was up against a column, where I intended
to nap. I gave them my name, and the woman said, "Sir, you've been
selected for early dismissal from the jury pool. I just need you to
follow those two gentlemen, they have an early-exit questionnaire to
administer and then you'll be free to go."
I smiled broadly at this unexpected news and asked, "What, did I win the
lottery?"
I turned toward the two men. Unlike the uniformed bailiffs, they both
wore a white shirt with dark suit and black ties. One stood in front of
the door, and the other held his hand out sideways, silently asking me
to walk out in between them. I followed the first one to the elevator
bank. No one else was waiting, and we entered the elevator alone.
"Is there a new Matrix movie being filmed?" I asked jokingly. Neither
man spoke for a moment, until one broke into an odd sort of half-grin.
"We get that a lot."
The elevator stopped, and again I walked between the two men as they led
me to a doorway marked "Conference Room 401". The first man opened the
door and I followed him in. The light was already on, and as I entered,
a woman turned toward the door and motioned toward a chair. I sat,
glancing around the room. There was a mirrored window opposite my
chair, and a door opposite the one I'd walked through.
She wore the same 'uniform' as the men, but hers was fitted tightly to
her tall, slender yet curvy body. I thought she looked like the actress
Gabrielle Anwar, from the show Burn Notice, or at least like Fiona's
Amazonian cousin. She spoke.
"Mr. Huntington, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
I was shocked into silence. Why would she call me Huntington? How could
she know the nom de plume I use for my transgender fiction? I hoped my
face didn't give away the truth as I tried to bluff.
"My name isn't Huntington. It's Dan ..."
She interrupted me.
"We've had our eye on you ever since 'Mel to Melissa' was published by
nifty.org. You know, everybody thinks your writing skills have improved
greatly since that first effort. Especially the re-boot of Mel to
Melissa. We all just loved that line "Blowjobs are for closers." Does
your boss Mike know that you based Melissa's boyfriend on him?"
I didn't know what to say, so I simply blurted out "Who are you? What
the hell is going on here?"
"TG Author Protection Services, Mel."
"I'm not an author, I don't know what a 'TG author' would even be, and
my name's not Huntington. It's Dan ... "
She snorted. "Mel?"
She said "Mel" as if it had quotes around it - teasingly, knowingly. I
fell silent.
"As I say, Mel, we've been following your work for quite some time.
Enjoying each new effort. Waiting for you to make a mistake."
Here eyes stared coldly at me, leaving that word "mistake" hanging in
the air. Then she removed two pictures from a manila envelope and slid
them across the table to me. They were the photos I used in "Dreaming
Makes It So" of Lexi and Jenny. I said nothing.
"We all thought "Dreaming Makes it So" was something of a misfire, Mel.
It felt rushed, poorly thought out. He's a guy, but he's really a girl?
Anyway - we were all thrilled that you wrote it, because it gave us the
first solid clue about your identity. By the way, why did you make
Jenny such a slut in your story? Didn't you know she ended up as a
nun?"
I looked away, still stunned and silent.
"So, Mel, we figured that you were a classmate of Lexi and Jennifer, and
we arrayed the data we had into a matrix. Most authors base their
stories in their own real life. And as it turned out, you were the only
classmate who had a father named Michael, a sister named Lisa, and a
wife named Susan. Oh yeah, and a boss named Mike."
I flinched at the mention of Susan and Mike. What are they going to do
with this knowledge of my secret transgender fantasies? I thought.
The agent kept speaking.
"So with that information, we had probable cause for a warrant to
remotely access your PC. And you know what we found?"
"You took this to a judge?"
"No Mel. I just like saying 'probable cause' when we interview a TG
author for the first time. Anyway, you know what we found, right?
She pulled out another pair of the same two photos. Each had an
"Evidence" stamp and an IP address listed. She turned to one of the
other agents.
"They never clear temporary internet files, do they?"
He shook his head laughingly.
"No, they never do." She continued. "I think deep inside they want
their secrets revealed to the world."
I slumped in my chair. There was no rebuttal left. These people knew
everything, and I was at their mercy.
"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly.
"Only what you want for yourself, Melissa. What every TG author wants.
To live as the gender they believe they truly are."
I looked up, and the agent nodded at one of the men. His hard eyes
narrowed, and suddenly I saw myself in the mirror, slipping a bra over
my shoulders, bringing the cups down and under soft breasts before
clasping the straps together in the back. Just as I watched my mother
put on her bra, years ago. Just as I did when I first raided her bra
drawer, at the age of fourteen. I'd fantasized I had breasts then. Now
I saw myself with real pert, beautiful breasts in a pretty lacy black
bra.
"How do they feel, Melissa? Do they make you feel like a woman? I know
I felt like a woman when I was 13 and began to blossom. But you didn't
blossom at that age, did you? Well, not in the way you wanted."
She nodded at the other agent, and his dark eyes narrowed. Now, I saw
myself slipping the same soft lacy bra over a barren, hairy chest. When
the clasps were fastened, the cups bulged out, empty where my breasts
had been a moment before.
"Breasts don't just look nice, Melissa."
The first agent asserted his mind-control again, and I watched as unseen
hands cupped and caressed my non-existent breasts and sensitive nipples.
My senses were flooded with delightful feelings, and my lips parted and
my tongue slipped out, before my teeth closed over my lower lip.
"Call me Dani." I whispered.
"All right, Dani."
Then my reality was altered again. I was male again and kneeling on the
carpeted floor. I wore a bra over my empty chest, and a garter belt and
stockings over hairy legs. A naked male stood before me. My lips were
closer than they'd ever been to what I had fantasized about for so long.
But it wasn't right. I wasn't right.
"Make me a woman." I begged.
"Very good, Dani. You're a true transgendered person. Close your eyes."
I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I saw I had long dark hair
brushing against the thick reddish nipples that crowned my soft, full
breasts. Below, I saw smooth curvaceous legs encased in soft silken
hosiery, and between my legs a soft, close-trimmed line of pubic hair
pointed the way to paradise.
I looked up and saw that my full soft lips were coated in a dark shade
of red. My complexion was beautiful, the apple of my cheeks a soft
pink. My eyes were sexy and alluring, with a dark mauve eye shadow
blended into a silvery finish.
I looked again at the penis at eye level, and then my gaze shifted
upward until my eyes locked onto the soft pretty blue eyes of a
beautiful man. I smiled at him, and then my red-painted fingernail
lifted him toward my hungry lips.
His delicious male flavor filled my nose and mouth. My lips swirled up
and down his shaft as I coated his soft penis in saliva. I kept my
motion short and quick until I felt his shaft lengthen and harden inside
my mouth. When his cock was fully erect, I slid my lips up to the head,
held it in place, and looked up at him before my tongue snaked out and
danced along the underside of the head. His eyes shut and I kept
stimulating him, until his eyes opened again and he smiled at me.
"So good," I said as I slipped him out of my mouth and smiled back at
him. My voice was a soft feminine purr.
"Your cock tastes so good." I said, before slipping it into my mouth
again. But my voice had changed back, and the penis in my mouth was
plastic and unnatural, cold and unfeeling. It wasn't a male, only a
plastic facsimile, and I needed to please a real man. I released it and
cried out.
"No! Please!!"
"All right, Dani. Enjoy yourself."
My senses were again filled with the delicious taste and texture of a
hard cock, and I moved my lips up and down the shaft voraciously as I
felt his hands hold my head. My eyes closed and I moaned a soft
feminine purr of contentment.
I slipped my lips down the length of his long penis, and then my tongue
slipped out to tickle his balls, before I slid my lips back up to the
head, releasing it with a loud pop. My lover reached down then and
gently held my wrists as I stood. His head bent down to kiss me, and
our tongues glided around each other as his strong hands cupped my round
ass, pulling me tight against his strong body. My hands cupped his hard
butt, as I felt his erection against my hip.
My lover began kissing my neck then, and I ran my hands through his hair
as his hands pressed into my breasts, cupping them and stimulating my
sensitive nipples.
He bent down then and lifted me up, and as he did I realized that the
conference room was now a softly lit bedroom. He lay me down on my back,
and held my legs behind the knees as he gently spread my legs apart. My
fingers fell between them, feeling the soft moist heat radiating from my
sex. Soon I felt his breath against me, and my hands withdrew to my
breasts, cupping them and tugging at my nipples as his tongue began to
explore the folds of my vagina.
My eyes shut tight, one hand reached down and stroked his hair as I felt
him pull my lips apart, exposing my tiny nub to the gentle caress of his
tongue. A loud moan escaped my lips and I began to grind myself into
him. When his finger penetrated me, I sailed off the edge, my orgasm
vibrating through me as my eyes shut tight.
When my eyes opened and regained their focus, I saw his long hard cock
pressed into the glistening V between my legs. His hands cupped my face
and his eyes locked on mine as he pushed his way gently inside of me. My
mouth opened in a wide 'O' and his lips pressed against mine as he sank
all the way inside before slowly withdrawing.
He straightened himself up then, and I stared, transfixed, as his thick
root slid in and out of me, harder and faster, his thrusts making my
breasts bounce in time. My moans turned into sharp guttural "Ohs" as he
accelerated his pace until I was screaming.
"I'm cumming on your cock! Yes, yes oh my god yes!!"
My bucking against him pushed him out of me, and he pulled at my hips,
moving me off of my back and onto my knees. My ass was in the air and
my head was pressed into the mattress as I felt him enter me again. He
resumed his fast steady thrusting, pulling my hips backward over his
erection. I loved the feeling of being his plaything.
Finally he pulled out of me, and again tugged at my hips, pulling me
back onto my back. I stared at his cock until it was back inside me
again, and now he took his time, fucking me slowly and steadily, rocking
against me at each deep thrust, stimulating my clit with his pubic bone.
My hands massaged the broad expanse of his chest as his cupped my
breasts, and then he shifted his weight forward, driving himself into
me, pinning me down. His hands held my wrists down as he fucked me
mercilessly, manhandling me the way a woman craves.
I was screaming now, my pussy drenching his cock, when he pulled out and
straddled my chest, finishing himself off with his hand. I went up on
my elbows and opened my mouth, waiting to taste his nectar.
There was a loud groan as cum shot out of his cock, sailing over my face
and into my hair before another and another and another rope landed on
my face and lips and tongue. It was warm and gooey, sweet and thick and
I hungrily swallowed what was in my mouth before I leaned forward to
sweetly suck out the last few drops.
He slid down my body then, and, looking gently into my eyes, began to
use his thick fingers to move his cum from my cheeks to my still lips
and tongue. I sucked hungrily at each coated finger until all of his cum
was gone. I cupped his handsome face in my hands and kissed him
tenderly, before he settled beside me, his arm draped over my tummy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the conference room, back in my
clothes, and all three agents of the TG Author Protection Service were
staring impassively at me. The woman spoke.
"You know, Dani, its not just clothes, compliments and cock. Sometimes
the cock isn't even that great."
And with that, I felt a small cock enter me, and begin its delicious
thrusting, once, twice, and then with the third thrust, I felt hot cum
shoot inside me before the cock slipped out of me, leaving me empty and
unfulfilled.
"And some men are just plain nasty."
My mouth filled with a sweaty, dirty gag-inducing flavor, like the worst
body odor converted into the most disgusting flavor imaginable. It
flooded my senses until finally my mouth overflowed with the hot wet
slippery bitter disgusting flavor.
"You know Dani, being a woman isn't all peaches and cream, or sugar and
spice and everything nice. Women cry at the drop of a hat, don't you
know that?"
My heart began feeling heavy in my chest, and I began to feel anger and
resentment, disappointment and despair. I didn't know why and I didn't
care, tears just began to flow.
"And only women bleed, Dani."
I began to feel cramps then, sharp stabbing pains in my lower abdomen,
and bloating and tender, swollen breasts, and more overwhelming
emotions.
"Women are the weaker sex, Dani. You never know who is lurking around
the corner."
And now I was walking down a barely-lit street, and a man came out of
the shadows, reaching for me, pinning my arms down and touching me
roughly before dragging me down an alley.
"Or you may not even be safe in your own home."
Alcohol-laden lips pressed themselves into mine, and then an angry voice
was yelling and screaming, before I felt the sharp sting of a hard punch
and felt my eye begin to close.
I opened my eyes, and the female agent smiled at me. Both men had
neutral, impassive faces.
"So what's it going to be, Dani? Would you like to enter the TG Author
Protection Service, or do you want to go on like this for the rest of
your life - unfulfilled, always wondering, always fantasizing. Writing
TG fiction or experiencing TG life?"
Both male agents stared hard at me, and in that instant my brain was
scrambled, filled with alternating visions: My fantasy life and the
life I was being offered. It took a great effort, but finally I spoke.
"Stop! Please."
They did, and I began to think. I knew that the Susan I'd written about
in "Mel to Melissa" was far from my real flesh-and-blood wife. The real
Susan would never understand my true feelings. Fictional Susan was pure
fantasy. Real Susan could be a vindictive bitch. And she was hardly a
wife anymore anyway. We never made love, and my TG fantasies were so
strong now, I wasn't even sure I could sustain an erection with her if I
did initiate sex. Doesn't she deserve a real man, a husband who
performs all of his duties the way I once could?
I thought more about my fantasy life. I masturbated whenever my wife
was out of the house for an hour or more, and I always placed myself
into each video as the woman making love to a man. I tried so hard to
picture a cock between my legs, fucking me silly. Or soft, soulful eyes
looking longingly into my own. Wearing beautiful lingerie and feeling
strong hands slip them off of my body. I couldn't go back to
fantasizing. I had to make it my reality.
"If I do this, what happens?"
"It's very simple. There will be a fiery single car wreck on the way
home from the courthouse. Susan will have no choice but to have a
closed-casket funeral."
I thought about what I would be doing to my wife, making her believe I
had died. Is that fair to her, I thought. But is it fair to keep on
going as roommates, not a true married couple? Suddenly it seemed like
an easy decision. Then I remembered. If they could find the digital
traces of my writing, what about everything else?
"I don't want Susan to find any trace of my online life after I'm gone."
"Don't worry, Dani. Two agents entered your house this morning after
Susan left for work. They've scrubbed the PC of all traces of your
writings and took all of your downloaded porn stash."
"There's a dildo in the bottom dresser drawer, inside a brown plastic
bag."
Silently, the agent pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. A
moment later she turned back toward me.
"No worries, Dani."
"So what happens now?"
"It's real simple. Go through that door and close it behind you. It
represents you closing the door on the life you've led. Then walk down
the long dark corridor. You can think of that as the birthing canal for
the new Dani."
I moved toward the door opposite to the one I'd come in through.
"And Dani? Have fun on the other side."
I smiled, slipped through the door, and closed it behind me. When I
turned around, I saw that the corridor was pitch black, with only a
sliver of white light visible at the end of the hall. I began to walk,
slowly.
As I walked, I felt myself change. First my weight began to shift, and
I felt my center of gravity moving downward. Before I knew it, I felt
my gait change. Instead of walking in the aggressive, lumbering motion
of a man, I felt myself glide more and more gracefully down the
corridor. I felt my hips begin to sway, and felt my breasts push out of
my chest. Soon, I could see the strip of white light was coming through
the bottom of a doorway, and when I reached the door, my pupils were
dilated enough that the light was sufficient to illuminate my stocking-
clad legs. I touched myself, and realized I was wearing a Merry Widow.
I smiled, then grabbed the door handle and pulled.
Bright light flooded my vision, and I had to close my eyes to adjust.
When I could see again, I caught my reflection in the mirror opposite
the doorway. I was a pretty blonde now, with long hair halfway down my
back. My Merry Widow was black lace, and my breasts were full, C-cups
at least, topped by thick silver-dollar sized nipples. My pussy was
hairless, and I had the wide hips and curvaceous legs of an old
fashioned pinup.
I smiled at my reflection, and then I noticed that I was not alone in
the room. There were four men standing in one corner and they turned
and looked at me, lustful desire on each face. Each was broad-
shouldered and slender, and each had a tight crew-cut and wore a green
uniform. All were gorgeous, and all had growing bulges in their
trousers. One of them spoke.
"Hi Dani. The first thing you need to know is ... blowjobs are for
bailiffs!"
I smiled and sank happily to my knees as the men surrounded me.
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