Stepford Meat Swap
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TV For A Week - 3 free porn video
TV FOR A WEEK Part #3
By Jerry Bart
"Yes, Justine?"
"Mistress, I -er- wonder if I could have a favor from you and - and
Mistress Sylvia?"
Both girls bent their exquisite forms down to me. "What is that, Justine?"
Sylvia asked.
"Well, Mistress, it's -er- been nearly a week since we-we made love
and..."
Clarisse interrupted with a smile. "Justine, do you mean to tell me that
you're getting horny?"
"Well, Mistress Clarisse, I mean what with all this...."
Sylvia suddenly grasped my male organ and gave it a bold caress. It sprang
to instant erection. "Oooo!" I squealed.
She continued her manipulations. "You must really enjoy this!"'
"Oh yes, Syl-- Mistress Sylvia! This is soooo nice!"
She smiled. "I never would have guessed that you'd get so turned on by
wearing women's clothes and being spanked and tied up while your wife
gives herself to another woman!" She continued.
I started to protest, but suddenly Clarisse stroked my breast and planted
a long, deep kiss on my mouth, effectively silencing me as she tweaked my
nipples to tingling arousal. "Doesn't this feel nice, Justine?" She purred
when she finally came up for air. "Don't you just love this feeling in
your sexy breasts?"
"Oh yes, Mistress Clarissel That feels so goodl"
Sylvia suddenly slid out of her panties, tugged down my own and began
fondling no with the silky material still warm from her loins.
Clarissa continued kissing me and striking my bosom. Then, before I knew
it, my climax came, wave after wave of shivering delight cascaded over me
as my male instincts, frustrated for days, exploded out! Sylvia neatly
caught the whale thing in her panties.
"Oh my!" I gasped, my head spinning, "Mistresses, that was beautiful Oh,
thank you Mistresses!"
"Don't mention it." Sylvia yawned, then, to my surprise, popped the cum-
soaked parities into my mouth! Before I could make another move, she
slipped off her short nightie, folded it into a sash, and bound It around
my head, forcing me to held the wet fabric in place. Nude, she turned to
Clarissa and the two girls curled up in each other's arms and legs.
***
Saturday morning, I seemed to move in a fog. Here it was, my day of
freedom. Tonight, the party at John and C1aris.'s house, where Clarisse
would humiliate John before a re-masculinized me--Jerry Bart! But first,
the job I had been training for all week. We were going into the City to
get the costume!
This morning, I didn't have to attend the girls in the bath. Instead, we
all showered, did our hair and made up our faces together. When we
dressed, I thrilled at the feel of real panties and bra, a slip, and the
dark Jersey dress I had worn Monday night. After days if spankings and
near-nudity, my new status as a full-fledged female was wonderful! I was
proud of the way my full breasts filled the lacy black silk bra, and I
delighted in the curve of my hips and ass under the sleek dress.
Sylvia -- I no longer had to call her "Mistress" -- fixed us breakfast,
then Clari gave is our instructions:
"Sy1," she said 'You go to my house and slip the pill into John's orange
juice. You can tell him I'm going to be busy and you've come to help get
things ready for the party. Justine, here's your purse. There's a gift
card from the store where we're going that will cover whatever we buy, so
be careful with it. Sylvia, we'll see you at the partyl"
Clarisse and I kissed Sylvia goodbye. I reflected that this would probably
be the last time Sylvia would see me in this state, and I felt a surge of
pride. Tonight, Jerry Bart was returning to his woman!
It was a two hour drive from our neighborhood to the center of the City.
Clarisse and I spent most of the trip in silence, wrapped in our own
thoughts. I knew that she was probably contemplating her revenge as
eagerly as I was anticipating my freedom.
The store was called Fredi's, in the heart of the busy Arts District,
although traffic was a bit lighter on this, a Saturday. We were able to
park close to the store and as we walked the short way inside, I marveled
that although I had never "passed" in public before, my training had been
so thorough that I walked the street with assurance of my femininity.
Inside, my eyes went wide at the assortment of dresses, gowns, nighties
and bizarre costumes. I had never imagined such a panorama of kinky
clothing. Everything from ultra-high heels to tight leather hoods!
Clarisse immediately picked out some things and showed me to a closet-
sized dressing room. "Just change into these," she said, "and come and
find me. I'll be browsing through some other things."
After checking the things Clarisse had picked out, I stripped down to bra
and panties and started changing. The costume consisted of black net
stockings, red garter belt, a short black skirt slit up the side, and an
orange and black striped long sleeved sweater, embarrassingly tight. A
tiny black beret and shoulder strap purse completed the picture of a
sleazy prostitute. Tall red heels clicked sharply on the floor as I left
the tiny dressing room and strutted over to Clarisse. I was a little
embarrassed by my brazen appearance, but none of the other shoppers paid
any attention to me.
Clarisse surveyed me critically. "Hmmmm, no," she mused, "but it's a
start. Here, try this." She handed me another outfit.
And so it 'went for the better part of an hour. Clarisse picked out
costume after costume for me to put on in the tiny dressing room, then
come out to model for her: Tiny skirts, floor-length ultra-tight dresses
that hampered my movements, gossamer see-through nighties.... Finally,
Clarisse assembled a new outfit.
"This should be devilishly Ingenious," she gloated. "Here, I'll help you
put it on." She followed me into the dressing room. "You'll have to strip
completely to the buff for this one, Justine, then hold your arms out."
I obeyed. When I was nude, with arms out, Clarisse put a small confection
of black leather and white lace around my waist. Looking down at it, all I
could see was a tiny corset with some confusing attachments.
Clarisse laced it tightly behind me, drawing my waist in cruelly. A small
leather triangle at the front of the corset went down over my genitals and
a cord at the tip of this passed between my bottom cheeks, tying securely
to the back of the corset and completely concealing my masculinity. The
corset was rigidly boned, forcing me to suck in my stomach and arch my
back uncomfortably.
"Clarisse!" I squeaked. "This thing is almost painful!"
"Think how it will feel on John, then." She smiled. "Now put on the rest
of the costume yourself." She picked up a pile of discarded costumes from
the room's single chair. "I'll put these back on the rack. As soon as
you're dressed come and show me the result." and she left me to don the
rest of the things myself.
It was quite a costume The white lace on the front of the corset turned
out to be a tiny apron, sewn directly onto the corset. The skirt portion
of the apron hung barely a foot below my waist, leaving my thighs and
bottom bare. The bodice was even more surprising, rising just high enough
to cover my breasts. The only thing holding it up was a pair of pasties
sewn into the top that stuck over my nipples with some soft gummy
substance. The apron had no straps or laces to go behind me, so my back
was completely bare, except for the narrow black band of the corset around
my waist. The tops of my breasts, my shoulders, thighs and ass were still
exposed. I hurried into the rest of the costume, hoping for extra
coverage.
My hopes were to be disappointed, however. The rest of the ensemble
consisted of only hose shoes, hat and gloves. The hose were dark, reaching
up to mid-thigh, where they were held up by lacey white elastic garters.
The shoes were extremely high heels, arched and padded so that I could
only walk on tiptoe. The gloves were black silk, with white pearl buttons
and they reached clear up my arms to my shaven arm pits. The hat was a
tiny white lace maid's cap that fastened with clips in my hair. I put it
on and looked about for the rest of the outfit but that was all! Then I
looked at myself in the mirror and a sick chili went through me.
The dark shoes, hose, gloves and corset accentuated the white expanse of
bare skin that remained. The lacey apron swished about, tickling the front
of my shapely thighs. It didn't even hang low enough to meet the tops of
my stockings! My breasts seemed to jiggle and bounce with saucy
naughtiness behind the white lace that barely covered them. The extreme
heels and corset forced me to flaunt them in front of me, just as they
emphasized my bare bottom, making me swish it wildly with each step. The
maid's cap, mounted atop the dark curls that framed my dismayed,
beautifully made-up features, was a mocking touch. I could see my red lips
open in surprise, my dark eyelashes just as wide. What a sight I was!
It suddenly occurred to me that I was going to have to go outside and show
myself to Clarisse this way. My head spun at the thought but there seemed
to be no alternative. Timidly I opened the door and peeked out. Bad Luck!
She was clear over at the other side of the store! My heart was pounding
and I could feel myself blushing from head to foot but I had no choice but
to mince all the way over to her.
It was like those dreams where you find yourself naked in a theater. I
swished across the floor, heels click-clicking, boobs jiggling, ass
swaying, terribly self-conscious. Somehow, no one seemed to give me a
second glance. It was unreal!
Finally, I reached Clarisse. "Justine!" she gasped. "That's perfect! Turn
around. Now curtsey: Oh yes! Now stand with your hands behind your back:
Excellent! Now walk for me: Good! Good!" I wished she would talk a bit
more quietly as I had no desire to attract attention to us.but she gushed
on for minutes. At last, she said "All right, Justine. That's wonderful!
Now run and change clothes and we'll buy It and leave!"
"With pleasure, Clari!" I said and minced back to the dressing room.
But a disturbing problem me there--the door was locked! I could hear
someone changing clothes inside. I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what
to do. All my clothes were in there! In a few minutes, however, the door
clicked open and a tall attractive black woman came out, her arms laden
with packages. She seemed a little embarrassed at having inconvenienced
me, and I figured that she must have used the room by mistake, and then
discovered that someone else had it. She hurried away, avoiding my eyes,
which was fine with me--the fewer people who saw me this way the better I
liked it! Besides, I had my room back now. I went in and closed the door.
The room was empty!
The dress I had left hanging on a hook was gone! The underwear I had
folded neatly on a chair was missing! I looked about the tiny mirrored
cubicle in panic. Shoes gone! Pantyhose gone! Even my purse and Jewelry
had been taken! Not one stitch of the clothes I'd worn into the store
remained!
Frightened, I scampered out of the room and looked about the store. The
black lady was nowhere to be seen. She must have been a professional thief
who saw me leave the room, went in to steal my purse, then decided to take
the rest of my things and leave me this way so I couldn't chase after her!
Furious with humiliation, I rushed back over to Clarisse,
"Clari!" I whispered.
"Yes, Justine?" She looked at me in surprise. "I know you look just
charming in that outfit, Dearie, but really, you're going to have to take
it off and put your dress on."
"I can't," I still whispered. "Someone stole it!"
"Stole your dress?"She raised an eyebrow.
"Stole all my clothes! She didn't leave me a thing!"
"Stole everything?"
"Everything from purse to panties. She cleaned me out. I don't have a
thing but the clothes I'm standing in and these aren't even mine!"
"Purse too? That is serious!"
Her concern with my purse when I was standing there half-naked, breasts
and bottom jiggling, irritated me.
"Nice of you to show such concern about my purse." I snapped. "Now what
about my clothes?"
She stiffened with anger. "For your information, Deane, you'd better start
worrying about that purse too! The gift cards were in there--remember? They
were all we had to buy clothes here, and I only have a few dollars with
me. You were the one with the cards!"
I began to realize something. "You mean - you mean we can't buy me
anything to replace what - what..."
"Exactly." Clarisse emphasized. "We're stuck. Or rather you are, since I
can always drive home."
"But Clari!" I was horrified. "You can't leave me like this! What could I
do?"
She was beginning to find the situation amusing. "Well," she said, "You
could explain to the store owner that you're really the wealthy Jerry Bart
and you just grew breasts and made up like a woman for a joke. Then you
could ask them to loan you the clothes you're wearing and the price of a
Bus Ticket back home. The Greyhound terminal's only a few blocks from here
and I'm sure you could walk it easily. Of course, the bus doesn't leave
until midnight and you might get a little chilly waiting around the
terminal in that get-up," She pretended to look thoughtful. "But I'm sure
there'd be plenty of men who'd offer to buy you a drink," She giggled. "I
can just see you with your butt perched on a bar stool!"
"Clari please!" I hissed. "This is serious!" I was embarrassed enough just
standing in the store like this. I certainly didn't need her to emphasize
my awful state.
But she was determined to have her fun. "Right, Justine." She smiled, "You
must be wearing nearly a thousand dollars-worth of clothing there, and
there's no way the owner of this store would let you just walk out with
it. Not to mention loaning you money. So I guess if you leave here, you'll
just have to take off those clothes and try to get home without any! After
all, you made it clear over to my house in that condition once, so it's
not as if you haven't had practical"
"Oh Clari- -Mistress Clarisse!" I whined. "Don't leave me here! Not like
this. Please, please don't!"
"That's better. I like that attitude much better, Justine." Clarisse was
serious now. "I've just given you some indication of what's going to
happen if you don't do things my way. Now here's what you are going to
do," her voice was firm and instructive. "I'm going to go get the car. You
give me a couple minutes. Make like you're browsing around and edge toward
the door. When you see me drive up, run out! I'll have the car door open
and you can jump right in. No one could possibly catch us."
"Clarisse." I was shocked. "You mean for me to steal these clothes?"
"I came a long way for that outfit." She smiled grimly. "And I don't see
as you have much choice!"
Two minutes later, I was near the door, pretending to examine a rack of
bondage equipment. I can't begin to describe how awkward I had felt,
trying to look natural in my scanty clothing. As I said, the place was
full of bizarre things and no one seemed to pay particular attention to
me, but I got a few funny looks from shoppers when I happened to stroll
too near them and they noticed my costume. One woman in particular, a
tall, well-built career-woman type with a business suit and rather short
blond hair, seemed to give me a very searching look. Finally, I saw
Clarisse's cream- colored Mercedes draw up near the door. I left the
bondage display and ran for it...
Then, disaster! As I neared the door, a foot shot out, tripping me! I
fell, sprawled out on the carpet. I struggled to my hands and knees, but
just as I was pushing myself up, someone jumped on me from behind,
knocking the wind out of me! I felt tweed cloth against my naked back as
my unseen attacker sat on me, twisting my arms. Before I could renew the
struggle, cold metal clicked around my wrists. I was handcuffed!
Now my assailant stood and rolled me over onto my back. I saw it was the
short-haired blonde. "So" She said. "Thought you'd just walk off with a
few hundred bucks worth of costume, eh?" Everyone in the store was looking
at me. "And right in front of me--the owner!"
She pulled me to my feet and gave me .a rough shove. "Well come on,
Girlie, I'm sure the police will get you something to wear!" And she
pushed me through the crowd to the back of the store and into her office.
"Please!" I said, once we were alone. "Let me pay for this. Don't have me
arrested. I can explain!"
She sat down behind her desk and gave me a cold, arrogant stare. The
difference between us - her, so manly in a suit, me, a real man, so
feminine in almost no clothes at all -- was incredible. "Don't waste your
breath," she said. "I'm sick of the stunts you hookers pull to steal my
merchandise. You're probably going to hand me a line about your clothes
and money being stolen while you tried that stuff on."
She could see by my dismayed look that she was right. "Well," she
continued. "I stopped falling for that one years ago. As far as I'm
concerned you can tell it in Court!" She picked up the phone and dialed.
Then said, "Police? This is Frieda Morgan of Fredi's. 351 Central. Just
got another hooker trying a theft. That's right, felony stuff. Okay. And
bring a blanket for her to wear, because she's not leaving with anything
from this shop except handcuffs!'
I felt my stomach drop. The police were on their way. I was going to be
exposed, arrested and photographed. But the blonde was on the phone again;
"Hells, is this the TABLOID City Desk? I'm calling from Fredi's, the
clothing store at 351 Central. Right. It you get a photographer here, you
might get some spicy shots for a humor story. I caught a shoplifter trying
to walk out wearing some of my merchandise. Well, she'll be walking out,
but she won't be wearing anything! Five minutes? Okay!"
She put the phone down and looked at my terror-stricken face. "That's
right, Honey, I'm going to make a real big deal out of this. A good news
story ought to increase sales and cut down on shoplifting at the same
time. Especially when they print that I'm going to prosecute to the full
extent of the law!" I was too shocked to speak. The idea of what was going
to happen to me had me in a grip of fear. Then, the phone rang. The blonde
picked it up. "Yes. Now? Okay, be right there.* She got up and moved
quickly around the desk. "You stay right here," she said to me and hurried
out the door.
I knew I wouldn't get another chance like this. There was a fire-exit door
at the back of the office. It was set with an alarm, but I didn't care. I
scampered over to it, pushed it open and dashed out, bells Clanging in my
ears!
I was in an alley. One end was closed off. There was a street at the other
end about twenty yards away. Moving as fast as I could with my wrists
handcuffed and wearing the tight corset and heels, I made for the street.
Now if I could only find Clarisse...!
She was out there, cruising slowly in her car, watching for me. She saw me
and honked. I dashed across the street toward her. As I ran, I heard a
terrible squeal of brakes and mashing fenders as cars stopped for me. But
nothing mattered now except my safety. The rear door swung open for me and
I dived in as Clarissa sped away. Safe at last!
Clarissa made straight for the freeway and put distance rapidly between us
and the store while I crouched on the floor and told her what had
happened. "One thing's for sure," she commented, after I finished. "We
won't dare show our faces around there for a while." She glanced down at
me, smiling at my backless costume. "Or show anything else!" she giggled.
After a while, Clarisse pulled off the freeway and arranged her coat over
my shoulders so that I could sit up. Naturally, I couldn't put my arms in
the sleeves, but Clarisse buttoned the coat at the neck. "We'll cut those
handcuffs off when we get home, Justine. Now let's get something to eat."
"Eat?" I squawked. "Clari, I've got to get home and get out of this
mess."'
"We've got plenty of time." she said calmly pulling into a truck stop.
"And we missed lunch. After all," she smiled at me. "You want Jerry to be
in good shape for the party tonight, Justine." She coolly parked the car
and got out, leaving me to wait for her.
I spent a fearful ten minutes hoping that no amorous truckers would try to
start up a conversation; worrying about the possibility of a State Trooper
looking for a car of this description. Finally, Clarisse returned with
sandwiches and pop. Although I pleaded with her to drive away, she sat
there nonchalantly and ate her sandwich, then fed me mine, despite curious
looks from passers-by. Then she left me again to go to the ladies' room!
I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally left and got back on the
freeway for the ride home. All I could think of was getting out of this
situation and back into my own clothes - and body! As we reached our
neighborhood, however, I noticed something wrong.
"Clari," I said. "This isn't the way to my house."
"Of course not," she said. "We're going to my place. That's where the
party's at."
"But I can't go to your place like this! What if someone sees me?" It was
late and I expected there would be early guests by now.
"Don't worry. We'll slip you in the back way. Besides, where do you think
Sylvia and I took all your masculine clothes?"
"Your place?"
"Exactly. You can take the Bust-Remover pill and by the time you've
changed clothes and taken off that make-up you'll be your old self again,"
It was dark as we pulled into the drive, past several cars belonging to
our friends. I figured things must have started early and I wondered how
Sylvia was explaining the absence of John and Clarisse.
Clarisse let me out of the car and led me around the back of the house to
a darkened doorway. She unlocked the door and we tiptoed in to a pitch-
black room. "We're in the kitchen." She whispered. "You can hear everyone
out in the main part of the house." In the distance there was a gale of
laughter. Someone must have told a joke. Clarissa unbuttoned the coat and
took it off me. "NOW!"
Suddenly the lights flashed on. And standing at the light switch was the
blonde from the dress shop!
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