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I laid on the couch for an entire day. I never felt the need to get up and use the bathroom, nor did I get hungry. I turned on the television at one point, but that was only for the sound. Everything was still a blur. I wondered aloud more than once what I would do with my new found life, how I would earn a living, where I would live, but eventually I let it pass along with time, instead focusing on the comfort of the couch and the mindlessness of sleep. The dreams I had however were anything but stress free. I never saw myself as I wondered in and out of sleep, but every situation had a different feeling, every interaction a different power dynamic. I had a dream of me grocery shopping, and although I tried to avoid people's eyes, I noticed they did not try to avoid mine. They went out of their way to look at me, something that had never happened before. I dreamt my car broke down and two men stopped to help me fix my car, waking up in horror when I found myself studying the man's body that was bent over under the hood. I woke up from one of my many successive naps and could finally see light. I couldn't see shapes or movement, but seeing more than darkness was a vast improvement. In the midst of my marathon of naps, I had started to wonder if I would ever see anything. To cure my boredom and in case I had to navigate the house before my sight returned, I started to explore the house slowly. While I laid down on the couch, I could "feel" the differences of my body, feel in the sense that I felt the differences in placement and mass; however, when I started moving around, the differences in my body and the way it moved where drastic and startling. It was something I could never have imagined as a man. As a man, I powered my way through life. My steps were solid and my arms pumped, driving myself forward, my head leading the way and my legs pushing off the ground to drive me. This was different. Weight pulled me forward, one step at a time. I glided through the air, one leg causing my opposite ass cheek to fall and then with momentum to pull me to step forward, my ass swaying and lifting with every step. Undressed the movement was more extreme. If I could have ever faked the feel of my hips "switching," I could never have imagined the shift in weight and the feel of breasts moving. I had always been a "breast" man. I loved the way they looked, the way they felt, shit, everything about them, and perhaps it was only fitting that I was transformed into a woman that would definitely need support if she decided to do any activity. I had been to the gym. I remember thinking at the gym that the five pound weight was light, and although it was not like I was being pulled to the ground, having never had such a weight outside my frame, it was a weight that was burdensome to my normal posture. They swayed and slapped against each other. I noticed that they rested against my skin, causing a slight dampness, and while I had always felt consistent in my body (meaning I just felt like there was no part of my wider than any other part--except perhaps my stomach in the last few years) in this body my shape was drastically different. I could almost feel how my breasts caused my body to be wider than at my waste and was acutely aware that my stomach went in drastically and my hips swelled out. It felt like I had a pillow where my butt should have been. My hands traced the walls, and although I knew my house blindfolded, the movement and feel of my body caused a little disorientation. When I found my bedroom I was so tired I simply pulled the covers back and crawled in. I don't know how long I slept but it felt like weeks. I awoke suddenly and completely, but wasn't sure completely why. I could make out shapes, and if I squinted enough, I could make out little details, and then I heard it. Someone was knocking at the door. My first reaction was to peek out the blinds, but as soon as I got to the window I laughed at the notion that I might be able to see that far. I stumbled out of my bedroom and to the front door and asked who it was through the door. My voice was scratchy the way it is first thing in the morning, the first few words holding on tightly to remain inside you. The response was from Marty. Martin and I had been friends for years. He wasn't my oldest friend but he certainly was my best friend. He and his wife had taken me in when I was going through the divorce. I worked with the man. We played golf. On the face of the earth there was probably no one I had spent more time with than him. I should have known he would check in. "Who is that? Where is Austin?" "I'm Sam, I'm watching the house for him." "Your watching the house? Where is Austin. Come on, let me in." "I'm not dressed." "If Austin was leaving town, he would have let me know, and I've never heard him mention you. Let me in or I'm gonna call the cops. Really, Austin would never do this." I began to panic, then it hit me. "Is that Marty?" "Yes, how'd you know that." "He said you might come by, he warned me," I laughed loud enough for him to hear it, then there was silence, "give me one second to get a towel." Then I left without waiting for a response. I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, discovering only too late that running was entirely a bad idea in this body. I wrapped it around my waist the way I normally did, only to make it half way to the front door before I realized how exposed I was. I quickly fixed the towel the way my wife use to, pulled over the breasts and tucked in there, but even with that the towel didn't go too far down on thigh. If I sat down, I would sure expose myself. I went back to the door and cracked it open. Marty turned to meet the stranger at the door and was stopped cold in his tracks at the sight. I didn't blame him. I remember what I thought when I first saw her and she was wearing clothes. It was only a bit strange because he was looking at me. I could see the outline of him, his head absolutely still. The cold air hit me, and although I'm pretty sure that he couldn't see me, I felt like my nipples were poking through the towel. I waited for him to say something but he didn't. He just kept looking at me. "Hey you gonna come in or what? Its cold out there." I didn't say anything else, just turning from the door and allowing him access to come through the door, but as soon as I did, I remembered that Sam's clothes (my clothes) were on the living room floor, but it was too late to get them. "So your Sam? How do you know Austin?" "We're old friends." I was trying to keep him in the kitchen, but he seemed to be wondering (probably looking around to make sure I hadn't killed him. "So where did he go in such a hurry and not tell me?" "I really don't know." I was searching my brain for a good excuse. "What do you mean you don't know? He didn't tell you?" Then it hit me. "He said something about a place you and he went last year. Something about a banana. I'm not sure." I knew he would get the reference. Last year we had gone to Vegas and found a hole in the wall whore house. The women were absolutely stunning and if I was a betting man, I would bet that more than a few were not quite of age. I know its bad, and perhaps this was some sort of punishment, but we dropped a grand each and the running joke for the rest of the week was that we had found a place to "take care of our bananas." "That rascal." He started laughing and through the tone in his voice I could tell he was relaxed. From his presence back in the kitchen, I could tell his attention was back on me. "So you know what he meant?" "Yeah. So you're watching the place for him, huh?" He inched closer to me. "I'm sorry, I'm having a problem with my eyes. We had an incident, so right now all I can see are shapes. Maybe we can get together another time and talk." "What's wrong with right now?" I couldn't see him staring at my tits, but I could feel his eyes on me. "I need to shower, and then figure everything out." "Well I can wait, and figuring shit out is my specialty." I didn't say anything. I hoped the problem would take care of itself. "Well, go take a shower. I'll hang out here until you get out. Or do you need some help in there since you can't see?" I could tell by how he ended the sentence that he was smirking at his own cleverness. "I think I'll manage." I walked into the living room and felt around the couch and found my panties and bra and the dress on the floor. I then ducked into the bathroom. I ran the water and got it as hot as I could stand it, and stepped in, immediately realizing that my skin was much more sensitive than it use to me. I jumped out of the water and covered my breasts to guard them from the heat by instinct. Eventually I got use to the water, and for the first time I began explore my body. The first experience I really had with my body was the feel of putting my hands on my hips. My skin was soft and the natural shelf created by my hips made me feel sexy for the first time in my life. I extended my hands around to my ass and felt the shape and plumpness of it, amazed that there could be something so large and fatty on such a trim and fit body. What amazed me in general was the softness of my body, and not just as I touched it. In the way I felt the world around me there was a softness that is still hard to explain. My breasts were something else. I had felt breasts before, the soft collection of fat whose weight settled into your hands, moving with the slightest instigation. They felt amazing in the palm of your hand and when you squeezed and your fingers made small hills of breast flesh that came up between them, you know you had felt the greatest thing there is to feel. I use to love to trace the outline of a nipple, feel the difference between the areola and the skin of the breast, feel the small bumps circling the protrusion. It was always so erotic, and now, here in the shower, as the water shot against my flesh, I cupped my breasts and experienced it from the other perspective. I felt them for a while, but then holding them up, the weight lifted from my back, I leaned forward and looked between my legs to see for the first time the lips that guarded my heavenly opening. Looking down, I saw the valley my labia created and the clit that split the divide. Using one arm to hold both of my breasts pressed against my body, I used my middle finger to touch the large pea at the top of my folds. The result was a whole body convulsion. A whole...body...convulsion. I shook my upper body to rub off the affects, and then sat there leaning up against the shower wall trying to comprehend the possibilities. Soon enough the wrinkles settled in and I washed myself making sure not to wet my hair. I dried and stepped out into the steam and managed to get over any hesitancy and stepped into the panties. My bra was a different issue, but eventually, I managed to get it hooked and my breasts in place. Then I looked at the dress. I remembered what she looked like, how tight it was, how it was supremely a "fuck me" outfit. It was soiled, wrinkled. It was torn at the hemline, but what option did I have? Marty. "Marty," I yelled out a crack in the door. He scared me to death answering me with a quiet "yes," almost a foot in front of me. "Wait, were you listening to me shower?" "No, I was just coming down the hallway when you called. What ya need?" "I can't wear this dress and all my clothes were stolen. Can you go in Austin's room and just grab me a tee shirt and maybe some sweat pants or something?" I didn't hear a response. "Marty?" I asked loudly. From off in the distance I heard him respond. "Keep your panties on," then something muffled, then he popped out into the hall way, "or not, that's completely up to you." I took the clothes he handed me and closed the door. My sight was getting better but even from the feel of the clothing, I knew it wasn't anything I had ever owned. I knew from the fabric what he had done. He had gone in my closet to the box of clothes that he knows I still had of Catherine's and grabbed me something to put on, and knowing Marty, it wouldn't be something that covered much. The only problem was she was so much smaller than I was now, in every way. I pulled on what seemed to be a tank top. I found the tag and arranged that so it would be on my back, and then pulled it on. I knew right away it wouldn't work. I felt myself to find out if it covered me, and the top was stretched so tight over my breasts and the shirt was so small that my bra showed through the arm holes as well as at the neck hole. I didn't even try to put on what appeared to be shorts. I knew for a fact that my ass would never fit into shorts worn by her. I poked my head out the door and looked both directions to see if Marty was there, and when I didn't see him, I walked across the hallway to my old room. He was sitting down on the bed facing me, only a few feet away. "Well isn't that a sight." His smile ear to ear. I could see the lust in his eyes. Perhaps it was anger, maybe I simply wasn't use to the body, or it might have been that I simply wanted him to see me, either way, I didn't try and hide myself. I pulled the tank top up and over my head with some difficulty and threw it at him. "There is no way those clothes are gonna work. I need to find something of his to wear while we go shopping." I went to the closet feeling his eyes on me the entire time. When I stood still in front of my old clothes and pushed the hangers to one side, I knew his eyes were fixated on my ass, right at the point where the fabric disappeared into my crack. I could feel it resting against my asshole, extending down and covering my labia almost as much as I could feel his stare burning a hole in my rear. "So we're going shopping huh?" I turned to face him, and even though he tried he could not cover up his gaze. "Yup, your driving me." "So does that mean I get to go into the fitting rooms with you too?" I looked at him with a smirk, "what are you fifteen? If your good maybe I will give you another show." At which point I turned toward him, pushed my breasts together and shook them a little, smiling at him and then walking to the dresser. I knew I had some sweat pants in the bottom drawer that were a bit too tight for my old body. I grabbed them and stepped into them, and then pulled out a tee shirt and pulled it on. It was a bit tight around the chest, but at least it covered me and I could move in it. "Boo. You should have gone out the way you were." I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, I don't think we would get very far." "No, but we would have fun." "You are fifteen aren't you? Is 69 your favorite number?" "Why yes, yes it is." He started laughing then stood up and walked out of the room. He called from the living room. "Come on. I can't stand to think of you or see you in those sweat pants anymore than is necessary. I'll call and cancel my plans for the rest of the day." My vision was getting better at a rapid pace. I could see everything now, even if everything was still a bit blurry, but as my vision became better, my energy seemed to be leaving me. I felt like I had the flu, but I knew what it was, or at least I had the feeling I knew what it was. I needed energy, but it couldn't be with him. Not Marty. I enjoyed playing with him, but I didn't think I could do this. A stranger, maybe. The notion of having sex with a man was still strange, but there was no way I could look at Marty while fucking. I would be way too self- conscious. We went from our first store to our second, and by the third store, I was getting so weak that the bags were almost too heavy to hold. I was struck by just how rapid the feeling was getting. I thought about going back out to the car, at least getting back to my place, but I didn't think I had the energy to make it, hell, I didn't know if I could make it to the car. "Marty." He turned to look at me right in front of a kiosk selling customized license plates. "Marty I need a favor of you, and I know we just met, but I need your help." He laughed. "Ok." "I need you to follow me." I saw the sign for the bathrooms up ahead and turned to check he was following me more than once. When we got to the bathrooms, I looked around and saw the sign for the janitorial closet. That would have to be the place. "Come on, in here." I opened the door and he followed me in. It was a cell, small with shelves extending to the ceiling, rectangular in shape. There was a cart resting against the back of the wall with brooms and mops sticking out of it. Other than that there was barely enough room for both of us to stand. "So are we going to steal cleaning supplies?" I gave a fake laugh, "No. I need you to fuck me. I need you to cum in me." "Yeah right. I'm not that gullible." "No really. I need you to do it right now. I don't have time to explain." I turned around and leaned on the cart, pulling my sweat pants down and my underwear with them. "Damn. Well if you need my services, I'll supply them. Lets go to the house and make some memories." "No. Now. Right now. Get your pants off. You need help or something?" "Help?" he laughed a bit. "Yeah help," I said in a frustrated tone. "You need to get your dick hard and get it inside me." "Damn baby, your needing this cock bad aren't you?" He thought I was playing some sort of sexual game. "Hey listen, really. I need cock right now, and I need you hard. Do I need to go out in the hall and get some? You need me to get you hard?" "Hey slow down. We're good. I just wasn't prepared for this." He slowly pulled his pants down and revealed his soft cock. I grabbed it as soon as I saw it, my needs outweighing any reservations I had. It was survival. "Damn your hands are cold." I felt sorry for him a bit. I knew he must be nervous, after all it wasn't everyday someone like me told you they had to get fucked. That was a lot of pressure, and his limp dick was the result. I pulled on him. I needed him hard, but after a minute or two, he wasn't getting hard. I looked at him. I knew what I had to do. I knelt down and without thinking I put his soft cock in my mouth. I didn't think about it. I just started sucking. I remember thinking about how I should do it to do it right, but I wasn't really thinking enough about it to concentrate on all the feelings going on. I remember he put his hands on the back of my head as he started getting hard, but then when I started to taste his precum, everything started getting fuzzy and I got really light headed and dizzy. I tried to stand up and almost fell over. He caught me, his hard cock pushing against my thigh. "Hurry up, just get inside me." I turned around and put all my weight on the cart and spread my legs. It didn't take him much time to comply. As the head of his cock pushed me open a sense of calm and contentment came over me even though I felt drunk. He grabbed my hips the same way my maker had, but tried to go slow and be quiet. I turned to him with all the energy I could muster. "Fuck me. Hard. I want you to cum in me." He looked at me in shock, but did as I demanded. As the pace quickened our flesh made loud slapping noises with the contact. My moans became mixtures of grunts and muffled gasps. I felt a need like I had never felt in my life. My body needed it, wanted it. My skin called out for his touch. I felt the head of his cock pushing deep inside me and as I concentrated on what the head of his dick might look like inside me, I heard him start to moan every time he god balls deep inside me. "God..." slap "damn..." slap "that..." slap "pussy..." slap "is tight..." slap. Then a pause in the action as he got all the way inside me, "holy shit," then I felt it. A surge of heat escaped him and entered me. My body exploded with pleasure. My energy surged back, and then he began fucking me once more. I came with every surge of his cum, and when he stopped shooting and it just leaked into me, my body had small tidal waves rush through me. Finally he was done cumming, and I knew it. He tried to withdraw from me, but I squeezed around him. "Not yet. Just stay inside me for a second." I didn't want a single drop to leave my body. I could feel it inside me. I closed my eyes and could see it, the cum surrounding his cock, pooling up inside me, my body absorbing the thick goo. Finally I released him, thanked him and got dressed. He just stood looking at me, his dick a mess and his pants still on the ground. "Come on. Get dressed, we still have shopping to do." I opened the door and left, letting the door close on him, naked and confused in the janitorial closet of the mall. We didn't say anything about it the rest of the time at the mall, and I could tell there was something different about him, like he knew about me. He watched me from afar, going along with me out of obligation more than by choice. I didn't know if it was because he had gotten his conquest or if he was scared of me, but either way I knew there were issues I would have to deal with once we got home. When we finally arrived home, I went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. The events of the day had started to hit me. What I had done and who I was started to finally become real. Had I been in shock? What had I done? I stood up and paced the bathroom floor. I was a woman. I had just been fucked by Marty. I was a woman that acted like a complete slut. I looked in the mirror, got really close to the glass and stared into my eyes. Was I still in there, or was there a power that had taken over? The entire day I didn't once question who I was or what I was doing, I had just acted. It was beyond strange. I left the bathroom and went to the kitchen to get some water, not because I was thirsty, but I was searching for an activity to ground me. As I drank the glass leaning against the counter, Marty came into the room. "So. What do we do now?" I looked at him strangely. "What do you mean?" "I mean after what happened in the mall. What do we do now?" "Well, I figured I would take a shower and get your smell off me, and then get dressed and maybe go have a drink. I don't know. Hadn't thought that far ahead." "I mean between you and I." "There is no you and I. What happened in the mall was just what happened in the mall." When I said the words he just went blank. "There is nothing between us." It wasn't a question; it was more of a statement of agreement, as if he was confirming what I had just said. "What should I do now?" I was frustrated with him. He was acting like a lost puppy dog. "I don't know Marty. Go make a sandwich, watch TV. Paint your toe nails, I don't know." I went back to the bathroom and closed the door. For the second time that day, I showered. I washed my hair this time, and as much as I could, I tried to clean out the remnants of his smell, although there was remarkably little of his cum that had leaked out. I had always been under the impression that a woman's panties got soaked when you load slowly seeped out, but for me it had been a different experience. I got out, dried myself once again, put a towel around my body and wrapped my hair in a towel and went into the living room to get the bags. What I saw was startling. Marty was sitting on the couch with a half eaten sandwich on the coffee table, the television on, and with one foot on the table, he was applying fingernail polish to his toes. He looked up at me and smiled. "Do you like the color?" "Marty what the fuck are you doing?" "You told me to watch TV, eat a sandwich, and paint my toe nails." "I wasn't serious Marty, what the fuck, you just do what I say?" He paused, clearly thinking. "So you don't want me to paint my toe nails?" "No. God." He was frustrating me beyond belief. I wanted him gone. "What I want is some peace and quiet and for you to not get in my way. I just want to relax." Marty stood up and went to the corner of the room, silent. "Now what the fuck are you doing?" "You said you didn't want me in your way." He looked completely confused. "So your just gonna spend your day doing exactly what I say. Just like that? Like a little child? If your making fun of me, its not very funny." I was beyond frustrated. "Do you want me to sit back on the couch?" "No Marty, I want you to lick the shit out of my ass. Dear Jesus." I turned and went back into the kitchen to grab the bags that were on the table, but once I got the bags in hand, I was pushed forward onto the table and my towel quickly pulled off. Marty put his face into my ass and I felt his tongue start to lap up my anus, and as he did so, I could hear his moans of pleasure. Either he was a total fucking moron and annoying as shit, or he would do anything I said. I let him lick my ass for a bit, trying to figure out if I enjoyed it or not, but the need to test my theory was more pressing that getting my ass ate. "Stop Marty." He stopped immediately and stood up. "Go to the refrigerator and get the cucumber that is in the bottom drawer, the one that has not been cut up." He did as I said. "No go into the bathroom and get a towel, grab the lotion on my bed side table and put the towel on the living room floor and lay on it. I will be in there in a second." To my amazement he did as I said. I was scared to even walk in the living room. "If your playing games, your gonna be taking this joke really far in a second." He didn't say anything, he just looked at me in the eyes. "Ok. Take your pants off." He did. "Now, I want you to coat that cucumber with that lotion and start fucking your ass with it." Before I could even process what was happening, he had that vegetable crammed in his ass going to town. I couldn't tell if he was moaning in pain or pleasure at first, but if there was any doubt what he was feeling at first, there certainly wasn't after a few minutes. His dick was rock solid after only a few minutes of fucking himself. "That's enough. Stop. Take that thing out of you." He did. I couldn't believe it, but I was so turned on at that moment I couldn't handle it. The sight of his dick standing at attention was increasing my pulse, making my pussy wet, and my nipples rock hard. I didn't say anything; I just walked over to him, stood over top of him and sat directly down on his dick like a catcher would take his stance behind home plate. I wasn't getting fucked this time, I was doing the fucking. I went down on him slow. I felt the head of his cock push my lips aside and then my opening close around the helmet. His cock pushed into me and I felt him opening up my insides, and when I was all the way down on him, I could feel him pushing against my interior walls. When I closed my eyes, I could see his dick pushing against me. I rocked forward and my clit rubbed his pubic bone and the head of his dick disengaged from my interior wall, and when I rocked back the head of his dick pushed back against me and the pressure on my clit was removed. The combination of the feelings was intense. There was wave of pleasure coming from both, one that I could feel making my skin crawl and one deep inside me. I rocked back and forth on top of him, closing my eyes and concentrating on the two feelings. "Grab my tits Marty." He immediately obeyed. I loved the way his touch felt against my skin, the way he lifted the weight and squeezed my breasts. I could feel the pressure building inside me. Every time the head of his dick hit my insides, I felt like I was going to buck back, and as I speeded up the pace, it was as if I needed to release something from my body. There was a frustration that was building inside me, and it all was because of his penis. Deep inside me I felt it growing, the pressure increasing. I couldn't go faster than I was. I was trying to brace myself so I leaned forward and put my hands on his chest. He never lost hold of my tits. Then with no warning, my entire body convulsed and I jerked back, fall back on his legs, and a huge stream of liquid shot from my pussy into the air and on his body. I felt like I was having a seizure. "Marty, fuck me. Fuck me now. Hard. Marty." He jumped to action, getting up right and on top of me in seconds. When he thrust into me, the feeling that had receded a bit came back, I grunted and felt myself shoot off again, this time spraying into his stomach. He continued to fuck. It sounded like he was fucking a glass of water, the juices being so much that I could barely feel him and the slapping against my body was sending a spray of my juices in all directions. As the feelings began to lesson and the frustration completely leave my body, I felt him tense up and then slam one time so hard I felt the force in my head. Then I felt his cum surge into my body. It was an amazing feeling. I grabbed his ass and held him into me. I wanted him deep. The deeper the better. I wanted all his cum in my cunt. I wanted to overflow with it. Feel it seeping out. I wanted his hard fucking cock to keep shooting, keep fucking. I can't explain the need. I can't explain how good it felt, but eventually it ended. He withdrew from me and stood up, grabbed the towel I had discarded and cleaned his shrinking cock. I laid on the floor looking up at him. "Marty, I think I need to be alone now, why don't you go home." He started toward the door. "Marty, get dressed first." I felt alive. I changed back into my sweat pants and sat on the couch. I would normally have watched television, but instead I had turned it off. I sat there thinking about my situation. I wasn't just a woman; I was a woman with powers. It was strange indeed. The entire premise was absurd. I lived off cum? You can't make that shit up. I was a knock out beauty? Really? I mean I know this was some sort of teenagers wet dream, but in a million years, I never would have thought about this as a fantasy, and yet here I was. I had taken to cock like a fish takes to water, and that was so strange I couldn't even wrap my head around it. As a man, I would never have gone near another man, not because I was afraid of men, but because I had no interest in it. In the mall I could have told myself that it was a natural need I was fulfilling, but seeing Marty's hard cock on my living room floor wasn't out of necessity. That hard cock was something I wanted, really wanted, and even sitting there thinking about it, I wanted it again. I hugged my legs against my chest and wondered how I would support myself, how I would pay my bills, explain my identity, all the problems anyone would have. I needed a drink. I went into the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of scotch I had gotten as a birthday present last year and poured me a glass. I had always enjoyed the smoothness of a nice scotch, but when I sipped it, there was no warmth once it left the back of my mouth. I drank the glass as if it was water, poured another, and then another, and there was no affect on me. I had lost the ability to get drunk. Its strange but that was the thing that set me over the line. Of all the things I had done that day, not being able to get a buzz was the one that made me go into a panic attack. I curled up into a ball on the floor. I started to cry, then sob. What had happened to me? An hour passed and then two. I couldn't move. I was scared, shocked. My life was over. I was left with this. What was I going to do? Who was I going to be? What would be the purpose of my life? Would it really be just about getting as much cum as I could? Talk about a nightmare. Then a peace came over me. I got off the floor and looked out the window into the darkening sky. What was life about anyway? I was free of the concerns of most people. I could just be. Who cared that I was in a woman's body? Who cared if I liked dick now? If it made me happy, then so what? It was still a person, and as a man I was using another person for my pleasure. So I was entered instead of entering. In the grand scheme of things, nothing mattered. But how would I support myself? Who would I be? I had to have identification, a social security number. Then it hit me. I did have that. This body came from somewhere. I ran to my bedroom. I know she had to have had a purse when she came over here. I searched my mind but couldn't remember. I tossed things aside. I pulled the sheets and blankets that had been thrown to the floor, and there it was. A small white clutch lay on the ground. I picked it up and looked at it. Samantha Clemons. I knew the apartment building. I got dressed as fast as I could. I stepped into a pair of my new panties and jeans, taking the tags off them only after I had them on and then pulled on a tee shirt that she had bought that read, "gettin' lucky in Kentucky," realizing only once he got to the door that he didn't have a bra on. I retreated and did it best to put one on, then ran out to her car. He had pulled his hair back into a simple pony tail, and as such looked drastically different than the woman he had fucked. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw a truly beautiful woman, a down to earth girl that would go out and have a beer with you as well as be the woman you were glad to take home to your parents. There was no bit of her that looked like the hungry cum slut that she knew herself to be. When she got to her apartment, she searched the clutch and found her keys. She opened the door and there in front of her sat an enormous black man. He looked angry. Truly angry. Perhaps this had not been the best of plans. "Bitch, where the fuck you been?" he stood up and came toward me. Before I knew what was happening, he had grabbed my pony tail and started pulling me towards the couch. "and what the fuck you got on?" When we got to the couch he straightened me up and slapped me across the face. A wave of pain shot through my head. He released my hair and slapped me again, the force of the blow sending me to the couch. I tried to shield my face from him. "Bitch when I say come right home, I mean come right home. Who the fuck you been out with. Who you been fuckin'?" He hovered over me. "You gonna learn respect. You can believe that." I cringed again thinking he was going to hit me, but instead he started to take off his belt. I panicked, thinking that I was getting ready to be beaten with his belt, and I started to utter no, please through the cries that had started somewhere about the second slap. "Nah bitch. I ain't gonna scar up that pretty face, but you gonna show me whose boss. You gonna take what I give you. Now get your lips on his cock." I peaked up through my self defense and saw in front of me his cock hanging out of his boxers. He was flaccid but extremely large. I looked at his dick and then at him, and before I could do anything he grabbed my pony tail as if it was a handle and pulled my head onto his cock. This wasn't sexual. This was power. If I had ever liked sucking cock, there was no way I was going to like it this time. With one hand he lifted his soft dick and with the other he pulled my face down on his cock. "Now suck that shit hard bitch." I did my best to comply but with his power it was hard to do anything. He started pulling my head back and forth as if I was some sort of masterbation doll. As he started to grow his dick got further and further back in my mouth eventually, getting fully hard. My eyes were closed trying to get this over as fast as possible. I had shut out everything he was saying, just trying to get through it, but that's when I started to taste it, and I started feeling light headed. When he put both hands on my head and really started to fuck my face, I knew it was coming. I tried to push against him to get him out of my mouth, but it was no use, there as no way I could over power him. I felt the surge of his cum. I tasted it immediately. By the time he shot his second stream into the back of my throat I felt drunk; when he stopped shooting and just leaked cum into my mouth, I was truly shitfaced. When his dick left my lips I was so shitfaced I collapsed on the floor. I felt it before I actually came around to understand what was going on. I was groggy, still drunk. I was resting against the couch, my breasts pushed into the cushions of the couch and my head hanging over the back. What I felt was someone inside me, fucking me extremely hard and pushing me into the back of the couch. I couldn't control myself, but feeling slowly came back to me, where the feeling went from the force of being fucked, the actual feeling of his cock, inside me, but he wasn't in my pussy. He was fucking my ass, and fucking it hard. As things became clearer and clearer, my grunts increased, and I regained my wits. I tried to push up and resist, but only heard other voices hollering. I looked around the room, my vision being shaken by the force of his fucking to see a room full of men, all naked, dicks in hands watching me get fucked. Then the man I had seen earlier came around and took my hair into his hands again and made me look up at him. "Now bitch, you'll know who owns that ass. You gonna service all my boys in here, and then you'll know to do what I say." He threw my head down and turned toward his friends and pumped his fist in the air, "fuck this white bitch." One after another they fucked me. There was no way to enjoy it. It was power and rape. If I would have wanted to enjoy it, there was no way I could have after the second guy finished. My ass felt like it was ripped open, and my pussy felt like you could have stuck your whole arm inside me, but I began to notice one thing. As they kept fucking me, cumming inside me, I sobered up quickly and then began to feel stronger and stronger. Nine men, then ten, then it got up to fifteen. I heard a guy say he was coming back to get seconds, and that is when I stood up before he could get inside me. He looked at me. "Bitch, bend back over, I ain't done with you." I looked at him and laughed. "No." was all I said. They all looked around at each other. "All of you sit down." As soon as I said it, they all sat down. There were sixteen men total, all sitting Indian style on the floor. "Turn to the man beside you. You should all be facing another man." After a few seconds, they had complied. "Now in pairs, I want you to get in the 69 position and such each other's cocks." These men had violated her, and now she was going to take control of them. She was going to punish them for their misdeeds. She let them go at it for a few minutes as she collected herself. "Stop. Now I want the ones closest to the window to get on all fours and their partner should begin fucking their ass as hard as they possible can." With that, they obeyed, and the noises that came from those getting fucked were painful to even hear. She found the bathroom and got a wash cloth and soap and began to clean her skin. After a few minutes, she poked her head out the doorway. "Now switch. The fucker should now be getting fucked." They did as she requested. She cleaned her skin and gently washed between her legs. She tried to straighten her hair and then went back into the room to hear the whimpers of men crying and bodies slapping. "Stop. Now get back into your 69 position until both of you have cum in each other's mouths. Make sure to clean all that shit off your partner's dick." She found her clothes and got dressed and sat down on a stool at the kitchen bar and watched as one by one the partners finished up and sat there, cum leaking out the corners of their mouths, and a fear behind their eyes like she had never seen. There was a power in that room, a realization of the control she had over them. When they were all finished, she walked to the center of the room. "Now, you are all going to get dressed and go to your home, your bank, wherever you have all your money stored and you are going to get it and bring it here along with a knife. If you know of other people that have a lot of cash, you are going to bring it here. You are going to stack it up on my bed in the other room and wait for everyone to get there. Then you all are going to go to the downtown bridge and stand on the edge and use the knife to cut off your penis. You are going to put your penis into your mouth and then you are going to leap off that bridge. You are going to go way down to the bottom of that river and stay there forever. You are not going to tell anyone about me or where you are bringing your money. You are not to talk to anyone unless it is absolutely necessary. Now go." They all got dressed and walked out like zombies. My crotch hurt, but it was getting better. I wasn't sure if it was because of who I was now that I was able to deal with that or if there was less pain than there would have been if I was a mere mortal, but in any event, once they were all gone, I went into the bedroom, found a bag in the closet, and started throwing as much as I could into the bag. In total I filled up three bags, made sure I got all the underwear and bras, most of the hanging close and a few pairs of shoes. I went through the bedside table and found a diary and other papers. I went to the desk in the living room and rifled through the drawers and found a passport and birth certificate. I found bank records, my social security card. I took it all. I made three trips to my car. I would get the rest after everything transpired. It all happened just as I had prescribed. They had held me captive all evening, so when they left, it was around dusk. By two that afternoon, it was on the local news. It was labeled a mass suicide, although there was no mention of them cutting their dicks off. CNN even covered it. I knew I had to act fast to make sure they didn't retrace their steps and find out where they were. I bought a box of black garden trashbags and went back to the apartment. I pushed open the unlocked door and went to the back bedroom. What I saw amazed me. There was a pile of money that overflowed the sides of the queen size bed. Large bills, small bills. Some in rolls, some with rubber bands. I started stuffing garbage bags as fast as possible. I didn't know those men, but I was sure it was all drug money or money from other nefarious activities. I filled nine garbage bags in total. Making six trips, the last of which I used to get additional items from the bathroom and my closet. When I finally sat down in the car, I took a deep breath, a bead of sweat running down my back, and thought long and hard about what I had done. I didn't feel bad about it at all. They deserved what they got and the world was much better off without them in it. I wondered what else I could do. What good could come from my powers of control, but that would be a lot of fucking, and my ass and vagina were way too sore to think about any grand schemes at the moment. I needed to get this cash off the streets and safe as soon as possible, so I turned the ignition and drove back across town.