Carlton Cline
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CARLTON CLINE 2 by Throne
The man who was giving me a ride introduced himself as Edgar Majors. He
leaned toward me and said, "I'm fascinated by you." When he pressed a
button on the back of the front seat, a panel slid aside to reveal a
mini-bar. He offered me a drink but, when I declined, gave me a stern
look. I quickly said, "Well, maybe just one." He relaxed and said
pleasantly, "Of course. Just a little something to help you relax." To
the driver he said, "George, we're in no hurry. Please drive us around
for a bit." I wanted to object but felt trapped and afraid of
displeasing him. Majors told me, "You caught my eye instantly. There's
something special about you." If he knew how special, I didn't know what
he might do. And with George waiting to carry out his orders, I didn't
want to find out. As we cruised along he handed me a tall slender glass
and then laid his hand on my thigh. I cringed but tried not to let my
revulsion show. When his hand moved upward I drank everything in my
glass. I told him, "I... um... wish you wouldn't go any... higher."
He smiled slyly and asked, "And why is that? What would you like me to
do? Or what would you like to do for me? Hmmm?" I remembered that line
about never getting into cars with strangers. Majors inhaled the perfume
Missy had sprayed on me and complimented it. I tried desperately to
think of something to stall him, to prevent him from exploring between my
thighs. Even with the false pussy he might discover my male bits. With
trembling fingers I undid the top button on my dress. It had been
revealing too much cleavage to begin with. Now it was showing even more.
His interest shifted, so I opened a second one. Major's hands came up
and cupped my globes through the thin material of the dress. He felt my
uncovered nipples against his palms and switched to rolling them between
his thumbs and forefingers. The effect was immediate and electric. I
was seized by an erotic power surge. A current of stimulation buzzed
through me and, instead of continuing to try to think of ways to
discourage him, I leaned toward him and, to my shock, began to purr.
The wealthy man grinned and unbuttoned my dress enough that he could bare
my chest. Those healthy melons were temptingly displayed in the half-
cups of the bra. He licked each nipple and then sucked. I became more
and more helpless and -- what was worse -- needy. The part of me that
Missy's treatments had created, this wildly depraved female libido, was
out of control. I slid back and around so Majors could put himself atop
me. He kept playing with my boobs as my passion mounted to impossible
heights. The problem was that, at the same time, I was still trapped in
that insidious cock cage, unable to get an erection and definitely
incapable of gaining an orgasm. My balls started to ache. I wanted more
and more stimulation even though I was paying a painful price for it. He
had me bucking under him and vocalizing like a cat in heat. His hands
occasionally went to my round bottom but kept returning to my spheres.
We rode like that for what must have been a half hour. At last I hit an
impossible peak and cried out, before slipping into a swoon. I heard him
chuckle and tell George, "All right, let's take this pretty lady where
she wants to go." He sat up and straightened his clothes. He said to
me, acting the perfect gentleman all of a sudden, "That was so much fun.
I'm sure we'll see each other again." I didn't want to discourage him
after he had gotten his kinky kicks and had decided that was enough, so I
gave him a sweet smile and fluttered my eyelashes.
Soon we were at the club and George opened my door. I got out, still
feeling a touch dizzy. Then I threw Majors a grateful smile and sashayed
toward the door. As soon as I was inside I was confronted by a tall,
dangerous looking woman with muscles and tattoos, as well as several
visible piercings. Her outfit was a sleeveless shirt, its narrow
shoulder straps showing plenty of skin, short cut-off jeans that did the
same, and black running shoes. She gave me a wolfish look and said,
"What can I do for you, sweet stuff?" Without thinking I said, "My name
is Carla," as Missy had called me. "Well, Car-lahhh," the door watcher
said with an exaggerated pronunciation, "there's a cover charge." "Oh.
I... sort of don't have my money with me right now." "No?" She paused,
letting me squirm inside my new form. "Well," she continued, "then how
are you going to pay? We could work a trade." Again, I was stuck. If I
didn't complete my case, I might end up stuck as a bosomy fem-figure, my
genitals inside that confining false pussy, for who knew how long. I
asked meekly, "What did you have in mind?" "You know, my legs get kind
of achy from all this standing, so how about if you kneel down and
massage them while I work?" "B... but, everyone will see me," I
practically squealed. The tall door keeper shrugged and looked past me
as the door opened to admit a pair of lipstick lesbians. My shoulders
sagged in defeat. I sank to my knees and began rubbing her solid legs.
She peered down at me, her face unreadable. As she took the cover charge
from the newcomers they stared at the submissive picture I made. One of
them said to the door watcher, "Is that a fringe benefit from this job,
Shawna?" They all laughed at that, and at my lowly role.
Shawna had me back up some, so that I had to lean forward to reach her.
My dress rode up in the rear and I felt cool air on my bare buns. The
next person to enter, a tough biker chick, ran the tip of her boot up and
down the cleft of my bottom. I made a shocked sound that turned into a
sustained moan. That provoked more laughter. The two of them chatted
for several minutes as if I wasn't there. Than the leather-and-denim
clad biker said, "You, me and her would make a great threesome. Two
Masters and one slave. Have her working double-time." Shawna said that
might happen and then the other woman went inside. I was still working
on Shawna's long legs and, despite my upset and shame, was getting
aroused. That led to another round of frustration and discomfort. Other
women made comments about me. Shawna offered my massage services to a
few of them and I had to do it for them, too. They all had softer
underpinnings than her and my level of stimulation rose until I was
whimpering from need and pain. After about an hour Shawna hoisted me to
my feet, planted a kiss in my cleavage, and shoved me through the door
and into the club. My legs felt weak and my head was swimming. I went
to the bar, leaned on it, and asked the butch Black girl who was serving
drinks for a rum and cola. She made it and set it before me. I took a
swallow and thanked her. She said, "You're welcome, but I'm not buying
it for you."
OMG, I had gotten myself into money trouble again. This time I ended up
having to work serving tables. I was sent to the back room where an
older woman helped me out of all my clothes and gave my my 'work
uniform', a tiny pink apron that tied in a flouncy bow in the back. It
covered my crotch but only half contained my bust, with the constant
threat that my burgeoning boobs would be exposed by a wrong move on my
part. She said my odd look, with the pretty girl make-up and tough girl
hair, should get me plenty of attention, which was exactly what I didn't
want. Slipping back into my heels, I walked self-consciously onto the
club's floor. At once I was called to a table where a mannish woman put
her arm around my waist and fondled my bare bottom. Her other hand pawed
my thigh. She even licked my hip. She passed me to her three friends.
As I made my way around the table, taking orders, I was touched all over,
even made to sit on one woman's lap while she toyed with my ears and
kissed my neck. I finally returned to the bar and was given their drinks
on a silver tray. I carefully wended my way back across the floor, aware
that every eye was on me. Then I got my tips. There was a pocket I
hadn't noticed in the front of the apron. Each time one of the females
slipped a bill into it, she took the opportunity to rub or finger or even
pinch my fake pussy. I could feel every contact clearing against my
constrained cock. My poor balls throbbed with yearning.
I served another half dozen tables, with lots more of the shameful
treatment I had suffered already, along with some inventive variations.
At one point I was crouching under a table checking well-dressed females'
panty crotchbands, running my nose up and down them, to make sure they
didn't have any wrinkles. That touching, along with inhaling so much
feminine musk, elevated my flustered passion to impossible heights. I
came out from under there with my face beet red. That earned plenty of
laughs and several smacks on my bottom. And more tips. And the
fingering that went along with them. I was totally overcome and feeling
faint when I saw Vanessa Mondell's girlfriend, Joyce Miko. Maybe all my
adventures with Edgar Majors and George, Shawna and the women at the
door, and now being made to wait tables full of lesbians with free hands
and occasionally mouths, were finally going to pay off. I handed in the
money from my latest delivery to the bartender and then headed straight
for Ms. Miko. She was with three other women, a pair of Latinos in tight
jeans and tube tops, as well as a Mediterranean beauty with long black
hair and dark glinting eyes who wore black leather pants and a matching
vest, buttoned over her full bust, with nothing under it. She also
sported motorcycle boots.
I leaned close to Joyce and her date, the leather les, gave my thigh a
hard pinch. She wasn't being seductive or having fun, she was protecting
her lover from my appeal. I yelped but the woman, who Joyce addressed as
Tia, feigned innocence. I took their orders and hurried back to the bar
to have them filled. When I returned to the table the Latino gals had
gotten up and were circulating, gabbing with friends. The leather girl
pulled me down onto her lap, reached around from behind, and squeezed my
heavy boobs, less with affection or lust than with sadism. I mewled,
which Joyce seemed to mistake for arousal. The torturous feel-up went on
and on as Tia explored my new body, all pink and smooth, enjoying those
overly full curves but getting even more pleasure out of hurting me.
Then she slipped out from under me, easily stood me up, and produced
several leather straps from her boot tops. With practiced moves she
bound my arms snugly behind me, my elbows drawn toward each other
painfully, and lashed my wrists together for good measure. Then she
looped a strap around my neck and tied it off to the back of her chair,
so that I was bent forward uncomfortably.
Tia said with a sneer in her voice, "I have to use the little girls'
room. You stay right there, my pretty-pretty." She gave my exposed
buttocks a half dozen loud slaps with her bare hand. I jerked and
yelped, drawing plenty of attention. Then she left me like that, my
reddened butt thrust out, fighting back girlish tears. I swallowed with
difficulty and whispered to the remaining female, "Joyce, I need to talk
to you." She said, "Do you now?" Her hand cupped one of my breasts and
stroked it lightly under the apron, triggering another wave of unwanted
stimulation. I whimpered and squirmed. That turned her on and she got
her other hand into the action. By the time she finally stopped I was
panting with lust. "So," she went on, "what did you want to talk about?"
"I..." My feminized voice sounded so weak. "I was sent here by your
friend. Vanessa. She... wants you to come back." I sniffled.
Prettily. "Reeeealy? And you're a little bribe to get me to return?"
"Well... no." "Then I guess we don't have anything to talk about. Let's
see, what can I use to gag you with?" She put both hands under the table
and did something that involved wriggling her hips a lot. Then Joyce
produced a pair of panties. She had gotten out of them and... Oh no!
Before I could respond she shoved them between my artificially puckered
lips and lodged them inside my mouth. I couldn't work them loose and I
definitely couldn't speak. Worse, Tia was returning.
Joyce told her what I had said. She acted amused but also maybe a bit
jealous. Still, I got the impression that Tia was more interested in a
fun evening than in a long relationship. So she went along with it when
Joyce said they should have some fun with me before returning to Vanessa.
Their idea of fun was to untie the length of leather that held me to the
chair and march me, with my arms still trapped behind my back, onto the
low stage at one end of the room. Tia called for everyone's attention
and then Joyce said, "We have a bad girl here who needs to be punished.
The first one to contribute a hundred bucks to the club's dungeon fund,
to buy new toys for the Wednesday night shows, can administer her
correction. There were a lot of calls from the floor and three women
came forward, all of them looking butch and hungry to administer
discipline, waving cash overhead. Joyce laughed and declared it a three-
way tie. So I was going to get it from a trio of nasty bitches.
Everyone at the tables and bar watched with interest. The women went
backstage and produced a variety of equipment, which I guessed was from
the Wednesday night stock the club already possessed. There were crops
and paddles and a foot long metal ruler. Also bondage gear and shoes
with ridiculously high heels. And finally a box that they showed me, so
I could see that it contained clamps, gags, blindfolds and more.
First one of the hundred dollar contributors removed my bonds. Then the
other two removed my tiny waitress uniform. I flexed my arms but only
for a moment, because the first quickly replaced the old ties with a
leather sleeve that contained my limbs even more snugly. The second
woman picked a stiff collar that forced my chin up and made me keep it
elevated. The last one selected a corset that she delighted in
tightening until my waist was well compressed. They had me walk around
the stage, making me rise up on my toes, as if I was wearing heels. The
bizarre sight I made met with the audience's approval. Being like that,
rosy skinned, hairless and naked, was endlessly humiliating. But what
came next was worse. The ladies picked their instruments and went to
work on my bottom and thighs. My nipples were put pinched by metal. A
vibrator was fitted between my bottom cheeks and turned on, so that I
felt pleasure along with the pain. The event went on for over an hour,
during which I had to kiss boots and butts and strike any pose that was
demanded. At last Joyce and Tia came onto the stage and jammed a gag
into my mouth before applying a blindfold to my eyes. Those impractical
heels were slipped onto my feet. I felt myself being led away while
cheers filled my ears.
There was a rush of night air against my bare skin and then I was helped
into a car. My arms were getting cramped in their bondage. The vibrator
was still buzzing. My penis continued to strain toward erection and to
fail totally. I held myself together with the consolation that I would
soon be back at Vanessa's, get paid, and return to Missy to have the
changes she had wrought reversed. Soon we arrived and I was walked
inside. I had to stand there in those towering heels as the hands that
had been aiding me let go. Then I heard Vanessa's voice as she said,
"Well, Carla Cline, you've really gotten yourself into a fix. I know
what you would say if that gag wasn't between your inflated lips. You
would tell me that you brought Joyce home. But she would have come
anyway. You see, I wasn't entirely honest with you. Those previous two
cases in which you had to pass for female, the prostitution one and the
Dominatrix one, well those both caused me a bit of bother. You see, I
owned that prostitution ring and the dungeon. So tonight's events were
all a set-up to amuse me and to remove you as a pesky annoyance." She
asked that my blindfold be removed.
As I blinked against the light, I was stunned to see Edgar Majors and his
hulking driver, George standing there. Alongside them was Shawna and the
bartender from Club Indigo. Also smiling at my predicament was -- OH NO
-- Missy. Vanessa went on, "So here's the deal, Miss Cline. Or Carla.
Or maybe I'll change it to Carlene. Whatever. For the foreseeable
future, you will work for me... for no pay. I can use a sexy maid.
Plus, I've always wanted to have a male lesbian available 24/7. There
will be a few papers for you to sign, putting me in control of all your
assets. I'll have someone pick up your entire male wardrobe. And drop
it off at a charity collection box. You'll be with us for a year.
Minimum. And then I'll decide if you're still a menace to decent, law-
breaking citizens." She put her finger to her chin and mused, "Was there
anything else?" Missy waved excitedly and said, "Remember those new
drugs we just imported?" "Oh yes," Vanessa said with an evil grin. "The
mind control substances. If those work, we'll be able to get someone
hooked on any behavior we suggest to them. Like always walking and
talking in an overly feminine manner. Or lusting after rough, muscular
men in leather. Or maybe just needing to dress as a female all the time.
But we don't want to test those drugs on some poor innocent. So, because
you're guilty of being a pain to me, you just volunteered to be our lab
rat." She chuckled. "Any objections, Carlene?"
With the gag still filling my mouth (and those worn panties behind it) I
couldn't utter one word. George stepped behind me, grabbed a handful of
my hair, and moved my head in a nodding motion. He also stood so close
that I could feel is big body against mine, and notice that he was
getting excited. Vanessa said to him, "I see you still enjoy frottage
with girly boys like our Carlene here. Well, you and everybody else can
have turns with her. Edgar, I know you'll want to play with her
supersized titties every chance you get." There was laughter and
comments all around the room. The imposing female butler I had met on my
previous arrival appeared. She announced that my 'spot' was ready for
me. George, managing to keep himself in contact with me from behind,
assisted me to walk in the towering heels. It turned out that my 'spot'
was a tiny room, a walk-in closet actually, carpeted in something thick
and furry, like a dog bed. The walls were pink and so was the small
overhead light globe. Near one side was a three foot tall post with a
ring attached. From the ring extended a thin metal cord with a smaller
ring at its end. George's thick fingers opened that second ring and he
forced me to lean far over before deftly clipping it into my nose. Two
sharp points bit into my septum and a strong spring held it that way.
Vanessa entered the small space and began rubbing my backside, which was
still sore from the abuse it had suffered earlier. She removed the
vibrator so that I couldn't even enjoy that modicum of pleasure.
"Missy?" she asked, "If I wanted Carlene's boobies even bigger, could you
do that? And maybe make her face cuter, so cute that no one would ever
recognize her as you-know-who, which is a name we won't use around here.
In fact, let's call her Carlene Cute. Would those additional changes be
something you could handle?" "With pleasure," Missy replied. "And I'll
throw in a better, girlier hairstyle for free." Vanessa chortled.
"Money is no object. After all, the funds from Carlene's old identity
will be paying for all her new alterations."
What could I do? Bent over helplessly, with everyone eyeing me. Prey to
those two men. A bedroom slave to however many lesbians my new owner
shared me with. And at the mercy of Missy's ministrations and those
experimental mind drugs. It would continue for at least a year and after
that might go on indefinitely. Even if they gave me back my old body,
would I still have unnatural cravings that they had induced? I was
doomed. All I could do was to try not to displease Vanessa, or any of
them, because that could make my fate even worse. A shudder ran through
my sexpot body. Vanessa patted my rump consolingly. "There, there,
Carlene. Sure you've been turned into a male lezzie with a killer bod,
lost all your assets, soon won't be recognizable to even your best
friends, and can expect endless sexual servitudes, humiliation, and
physical mistreatment. But look at the bright side." What was that, I
had to ask myself. She told me. "You'll have all of us and our friends
to take care of you."
THE END ?
Oprah
- 08.08.2020
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