The Bottle Bank
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The Bottle Bank 2 free porn video
The Bottle Bank
This is a tidied up version of my earlier story in response to reader's
helpful comments. Though it's fiction I have tried to make it seem as
though it really could be true.
The sun was streaming through the curtains as I awoke early and
remembered that today was going to be a very special one: I lay watching
the light playing on the far wall for a while running through my plans
for the day. I had been looking forward to it so much for weeks and I
dwelt on every step, fine tuning in my mind's eye just what I was going
to do. Finally after making sure that I knew each step, I got up and
shaved very closely, spending a while removing any hint of stubble,
checking everywhere with my finger tips, until my face was completely
smooth, then got dressed and went downstairs to join my wife at
breakfast. Not much was said; things have been a bit tense recently, she
accepted a peck on her cheek, but that was all and we ate in silence.
Actually things have not been so good between us since my own company
that I had built from scratch collapsed months ago and I found myself out
of work and nothing much coming my way in any form; jobs seemed to have
dried up completely, not even friends could help. It had been a real
shock and not just to me, but to Fay, my wife, who up till then had been
a lady who lunched, which had suited us both. In the past we had always
lived up to the hilt, and the house was filled with lovely things she had
bought while I earned the money, but now she had had to get a job to meet
costs, which had n't pleased her one little bit. Using her old girl
contacts she managed to land herself a good post with a television
company in Town, she could work from home most of the time but one day a
week had to travel there early in the morning for meetings. Breakfast
finished, she stood up and gathered all her things together, gave me a
quick peck on the cheek, put on her coat and went over to the door but
just as she opened it, she turned back and said to me, "Sam, just damn
well make an effort to do a bit of housework, tidy up your mess and don't
forget to take that lot of empties over there along to the recycling
bank." With that shaft ringing in my ears, she shut the door behind her
with a bang.
As soon as the front door closed I shot up to my room and unlocked the
cupboard tucked in an alcove to reveal the cluster of blouse, skirts and
dresses hanging inside together with a couple of wigs sitting on their
blocks. Because of my earlier thoughts I had planned in detail what I was
going to wear and the look I wanted to achieve, but first I had to strip
off my boy clothes. That took a matter of seconds and completely naked I
brought out a small flat box from the cupboard and lifted out my special
artificial vag, all pink and partially hairy, I stepped into it and drew
it up my legs, carefully tucking my private parts deep inside as I pulled
it up. Running my fingers along its edges I made sure it was correctly
placed with a no disturbing bulge and with a smooth join to my body.
Whenever I've done that a most peculiar sensation of "girlieness" always
sweeps over me, and I find myself seeing things from a different
perspective, things are more colorful, materials have a texture and I
feel more delicate and sensitive, in a way almost shrinking away from the
coarseness of being a male: quite magical really Once I was satisfied
that all was securely in place I checked in the mirror that it looked the
part, then I sat down carefully and pulled out the box containing my make
up kit, and the next half hour swept by, as I worked through the
multitude of cosmetics with what had become over time, an experienced
hand, to paint on the male canvas to end with a woman's looks. It is
always remarkable what a difference a pair of false eye lashes makes in
effecting that change even with out makeup and I paid particular
attention to getting them right.
What was extra special about today was that I had earlier in the week
taken delivery of a basque and was bursting to try it on. It was a white
bridal model covered in guipure lace, with suspenders and a ruffled frill
at both top and bottom. What was particularly special about it was a
ribbon which when pulled forced a pair of scoops under the pectorals and
lifted them up. Trembling with excitement, I clipped one side to the
other and then began the process of pulling the tapes together to draw my
waist narrower and narrower which needed several goes as it slowly
accepted the change. I had to rest a while to get used to breathing
differently with short shallow breaths from higher up my body. Once that
was done I then pulled steadily on the special ribbon ends. Bit by bit it
worked; lifting the muscles upwards and together, looking down I could
see that I now had a realistic cleavage, not huge but demure, which
increased the way I felt: delicate and vulnerable. Reaching into one of
the cupboard drawers I pulled out several packets of hose and selected a
pair of high gloss seamed stockings which I carefully opened. I made
certain that the toes were properly covered and drew one up as far as it
would go and then the other and clipped them with the suspenders,
something which was always a fiddle, especially to stop them twisting.
The tops ended high up my thighs, leaving a provocative part of my behind
uncovered but with the seams running straight leading up to it. Of course
I knew that stocking were so old fashioned, but once covered up only I
would know that I was not wearing tights and they always make me feel so
good inside.
Selecting the laciest pair of white panties I had, which would still
definitely cover my AV; no thong today for sure, I automatically stepped
into them and pulled them up close, again checking that everything was
covered and smooth, I definitely did n't want a VPL. I had already
decided what shoes I was going to wear, a black patent pair of pumps with
kitten heels and slipped my feet so easily into them. Every time I do
that, I am delighted at the way my feet suddenly appear slim, tapered and
smaller. Next on came a crisp white fitted blouse, just thin enough to
show the pattern of the basque top without being flagrant which I left
undone at the neck and finally a knee length cinnamon skirt which I then
had to lift up by its hem and reach inside so I could draw down the tails
of the blouse to ensure all was smooth and also to check that my
suspenders did n't show through the fabric. I decided that a black patent
belt with a large buckle would set everything off well so I took that out
of the cupboard and put it on too and was delighted that I could draw it
several holes tighter than usual. I stood in front of the mirror and
slowly turned: yes my seams were straight; the belt buckle in the centre,
the skirt hem level and particularly the best bit was that the silhouette
of my bust was what I had dreamed about.
All in all it looked very good. Reaching into the top of the cupboard
again, I lifted down a short light brown wig with blonde high lights that
would curl neatly under my ears, I shook it out, then carefully brushed
it, before pulling it over my head, gave it another brushing and finally
set all over with hair spray. To complete the effect I needed nails:
bright scarlet ones; up till now I had used stick on pads but had lost a
couple somewhere about the house and they are a very tell tale sign not
easily mistaken for anything else which so far I seemed to have got away
with, but today was different. So as not to take a chance this time, I
used strong acrylic adhesive and pressed each nail firmly into place
making sure that they were straight as it dried. Again I was entranced at
the way my hands seemed more long and slender as a result. Now standing
up I naturally checked myself in the mirror, spinning round carefully,
checking top to bottom: no necklace, well a thin gold chain with a cross
which nestled neatly in the cleavage would be ideal, so on one went, I
debated about earrings and tried a couple but in the end decided against
Now I felt perfect and ready for the day ahead which I knew was going to
be wonderful
So I went down stairs quickly, enjoying the lightness of my feet and the
slight bounce of the necklace on my bust with each step, then once down
in the kitchen wandered around clearing the breakfast things before
picking up the bag of empty bottles and letting myself out the front door
and onto the street. A glance up and down showed nobody: just a few
parked cars and a wandering black cat, so off I went. The clacking of my
heels echoed off the walls and the early morning sun shone on my back,
but it was not warm enough to prevent the drifts of cold air reaching up
my skirt to above my stocking tops. Each step sent a chill which mixed
with the slight electric feeling of the nylon as thigh brushed past thigh
sent me shivering, and looking down at the crisp white collar of my
blouse I could see the outline of the basque and there moving slightly
was the cross swinging between one swelling breast and the other. I tried
my girl walk; placing each foot on a single invisible line and by
swinging my hips I found that it too swung a little more in a delicious
manner.
As I approached the corner, I just had to watch my reflection in the row
of shop windows as I walked by, I looked really good and I was feeling
terrific, so on I sauntered, enjoying every moment. Once round the corner
I was at the car park where the recycling banks were and still there was
nobody in sight. One by one I dropped the bottles, depending on their
colour into the different holes, each making a loud smashing noise which
bothered me a bit as it might draw attention to me, so once finished I
quickly picked up the empty bag and turned back for home. Just as I did
so the alarm at the National Bank across the road went off with an ear
splitting shriek and its front door opened and two figures came running
out dragging heavy sacks. I was frozen to the spot with a flood of
conflicting thoughts running through my mind, I was not dressed for
public spirited action and could see they were both wearing ski masks and
overalls and did n't look as though they would like being trifled with,
but anyway I was pretty sure that they had not seen me. A second later a
white van shot out of the car park, swung across the road and stopped
exactly alongside me. What happened next was a complete turmoil; a shout
and then another man came running across the road towards me, when
suddenly there was a deafening bang and he fell to the ground. Stunned, I
turned to find myself next to a giant hulk of a figure holding a gun, he
had obviously been the look out man for the robbery which I was watching.
The first bag man quickly opened the van rear doors and together they
both heaved their bags into it, then before I could think, my neck was
grasped by the gun man and I was propelled into the van on top of the
bags. He climbed in behind and yelled something and the van shot off up
the road.
My ears were still ringing from the gun blast and my mind was whirling,
obviously a witness was the last thing that they had wanted, so what was
going to happen to me, how long would it be before they found out my real
sex, clearly killing me was not something out of the question, in fact
pretty likely. Dimly aware that my sprawled legs pointing towards the man
presented a less than ladylike view I shifted myself on the sack,
instantly the hulk swung his gun at me, so I tried to smile and froze,
petrified by the thought of the casual murder I had just witnessed. We
drove for what must have been really less than quarter of an hour, but
seemed forever; the back of the van exaggerated every road surface,
throwing me about on the bends and I was very aware that for the last few
minutes we were driving along a rough and rocky track as my behind was
becoming quickly sore from the motion, so I was very relieved when we
stopped and the back doors were opened to find that we were in the middle
of a walled farm yard with the usual rusty equipment scattered around and
a house at the end.
I was stiff and sore and very scared, but that did not bother the Hulk
who dragged me out of the van and manhandled me through the farmhouse
door, definitely wherever he came from women were not held in high
esteem. The door lead directly into a large kitchen and the most obvious
thing there was a large wooden table stacked with heaps of dirty plates
and mugs in the middle. I had no time to take in anything else as I was
marched across the room to a door, which he kicked open, there in front
of me was a flight of shallow steps leading down into a dark cellar, he
pushed me in and before I could do anything he had shut the door behind
me. I tripped on the stairs but managed to save myself from falling all
the way because there was a rope hand hold which I had grabbed
instinctively as the light went. It was pitch black inside, but under the
bottom of door came a chink of light and after a while I could just see a
stack of logs and some cardboard boxes: that was all. I was so
disorientated that I could only sit down on an old box to collapse it. It
was at least dry but chilly and slowly I got colder and colder and I sat
hugging my knees to keep warm. After what seemed ages I could hear a
thumping noise and the rumble of voices, so I crept up the stairs and
tried to discover what was being said, but it was it was all in some
foreign language, periodically interrupted by a burst of raucous laughter
as though they were exchanging dirty jokes.
I sat on the cardboard for a long time with myriads of thoughts running
through my mind, I was slowly working myself up into a real state of
helplessness, there just did n't seem anyway things could improve. Slowly
through the cold and fear I realized only too powerfully that I needed to
relieve myself, but I could not bring myself perform in the corner so I
climbed the stairs again and hammered on door, I kept it up for a long
time and at last just when I felt that I could hold on no longer, it was
opened. There was one of the bank robbers still in his overalls but
without his mask, who finally understood what I was trying to sign to him
and pulled me across to a small toilet off the kitchen, then left me.
What a relief, nothing else seemed quite so important at that moment,
down came the panties quickly but the suspenders had to be unclipped
before I could release my parts from the AV; my fingers were so cold that
the clips would n't undo easily and I cursed their cheap and flimsy
design, but with relief was finally able to sit free of everything. Once
at last I had done what I had been bursting to do; everything had to be
replaced properly in reverse order, but as I was doing so I realized that
there was a small window above me; so climbing onto the seat I could look
out and so saw that just a short distance off there was a large barn. I
must have been in there too long for his liking, there was a banging on
the door and on opening it I was confronted by the Hulk who uttered a
flow of incomprehensible words, but his gesticulations made it very
obvious that I was to come out immediately and clear up the mess on the
table.
I took in the large table top, every plate was thick with congealed fat,
brown sauce and egg whilst the pans were caked black with burnt food,
they must have been in the kitchen for a week, there was so much of it
all and nobody had bothered to clear anything. I hoped that it meant that
they had not decided to kill me, so if there was to be a chance to stay
alive I had to get to work. The van driver who I recognized by his
smaller ski mask, spoke, "Lady what name?" "Sally." I whispered. "Okay
Sally... clean." So there was no doubt. I filled the great stone sink
with hot water and scraped and pushed the muck off the dishes then the
knives and forks, slowly working my way through the heap for what seemed
an eternity. Then I tackled the pans, scrubbing away as best I could,
thanking myself for using proper glue on my nails. At long last it was
all finished, but just as I straightened up in came the Hulk who jabbed a
finger at the table and said something: whatever it was clear that that
too had to be scrubbed.
So I set to with increasing weariness and worry, how much more of this
would there be? I pushed the scrubbing brush hard as it was worn and
needed pressure to work at all, so I had to lean across the table.
Suddenly a hand grasped my breast from behind and another was reaching
between my legs and up my skirt and I was forced face down onto the table
top. I gasped with a mixture of surprise and fear, because the AV was not
designed for that sort of exploration, "No!" I screamed out. The hands
withdrew and I was released, but as I tried to stand up the kitchen door
swung open behind me and a furious exchange of words exploded behind me,
then silence as who ever it was stormed out together, leaving me
completely alone. By now though my mind was in a turmoil, but I knew I
had to escape, so it was now or never. All was quiet, so I quickly opened
the back door and could see the barn ahead of me, so I let myself out as
quietly as I could and crept across the empty yard; only to walk straight
into the Hulk who had just stepped out of the barn.
Being grabbed by the neck was more painful than before as I was marched
back into the kitchen, feeling utterly dejected. A flood of yelled words
brought the other three running in and with a shout he snatched at my
blouse, ripping it off one shoulder, then snarled a couple of words at
me. The driver translated; "Lady off." I realized he meant take off my
blouse and fumbling at its buttons I managed to get it off, without
loosening my falsies and dropped it on the floor. That was n't the end
because then he shouted something else as he kicked my blouse under the
table. Once again the driver helped me understand "Sally off" as he
pointed at my now filthy skirt. So trembling I unzipped it and let fall
to ground for it to be kicked away as before. Now standing only in my
basque, stockings, panties and shoes, a hot flush swept all over me. Now
what? I did n't think that I could take much more, I felt more and more
humiliated and frightened, even more so when the Hulk waved to the two
other men who had been watching everything with very obvious interest.
Before I could think further I was grabbed by them and pushed down the
cellar steps, with a stinging blow across my now exposed bare buttock.
Once more I was back in the cold darkness and soon realized just how very
cold. The blouse might have been thin but it was something and had kept
the worst of the chill off earlier, but now sitting with nothing between
me and the cardboard but skimpy thin panties made the slap on my bruised
behind even more painful. I felt completely humiliated in a way that I
never had before: me a business executive reduced to this, I was truly
distraught.
I had not eaten at all through the long day and the constant churnings
inside distracted me a little from the chill, as I waited trying to work
out what to do, were they going to leave me completely, could I manage to
force the cellar door? The light under the door had long gone, the
building was completely quiet and I had no idea of time, so I could only
sit in the silent cellar and think, no matter what I tried to concentrate
on, worrying about being cold took over. Suddenly the light re-appeared
and a rumbling of movement above, encouraged me so shakily I stood up,
climbed up the stairs and banged on the door. It was immediately opened
and as my eyes adjusted to the blinding light, there stood my wife, Fay,
with five grinning men behind her.
"Well my dear you do look so cute... but so cold and miserable, wrap
this around you to hide yourself." I was shattered but clasped the
blanket she offered me, closely. "Let me introduce my friends from the
studio. Here is Janos from Croatia, Mikhael, Stefan, Johnny and Mac." I
now could place them all with out their masks except one who I could not
place. "Who is Mac..." "Oh he's our camera man. Every single moment of
today has been filmed by him and those cameras."
She pointed to the top of the old dresser, where I could see a black
object. "I wanted to teach you a lesson about not helping in the house
and Janos wanted a pilot film to sell to an Italian porno group, so we
got together and planned today. I think that you will agree you have had
a lesson all right. Anyway get into the car and I'll take you back home.
Thank you boys, see you soon." At that they all cheered and clapped and
waved us out of the house.
I crept carefully into the car sitting as gently as I could and Fay
started the drive home. "Well that was exciting wasn't it, love?"
"No it was utter hell: starving, frozen stiff, almost raped, slapped,
stripped, in fear of being shot and anyway what about the bank and the
dead man?"
"Oh the new bank manager was really helpful, he had wanted to test the
security system and was delighted to help and no, he isn't dead: there
was a blank in the gun."
"How could you do this to me, I shall be the laughing stock of the town?"
"Well you may be, but I doubt it, I made a deal with the boys: they have
the film rights to sell, but they've only got the middle part and end."
"So who's got the beginning?"
"If only you kept your room a bit more tidy you would have noticed an
extra book on the shelf. That was a mini-camcorder, which automatically
records when someone stands in front of it. So I have a lovely film of
you preparing yourself as "Sally" so it is only too easy to join the
three parts together if I want to."
"But how can I trust them not to tell everybody?"
"Remember that they have only seen you as Sally and I only told them that
I wanted to play a trick on a friend, so they don't know who you are or
look like normally."
"You've no idea how wonderful that sounds, but okay so how did you find
out what I did?"
"Well I had no idea at all actually, and it really maddened me that you
seemed to do nothing all day long while I was hard at work, but a while
ago I was standing in the check out queue in the supermarket next to Mrs
Hughes across the road, and she asked me if I had a lodger, because she
had seen a woman leaving the house and returning after a short while for
several weeks and always on a Tuesday. So I put two and two together and
after chatting about what we could do with Janos and his crew decided set
up the camera in your room."
So Sally my little munchkin, here's the deal; I'll keep the video safely
locked away in my office at work and until such time as you get a new
job, you take over all the housework seven days a week. It's up to you
what you wear, but I suggest that perhaps Sally might want to get herself
a proper housemaid's uniform, would n't that be really nice?
All I could do was nod, I was completely shattered by it all. Now though,
much later, on second thoughts maybe it was all worth it as I think that
I had actually got the best part of the deal, as I am now what you might
call 'A Kept Woman'.
Marisol
- 14.10.2020
- 16
- 0
