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Making The Best Of It free porn video
MAKING THE BEST OF IT
By Geneva
A porn film producer has to make a sudden career change when a
transformation spell is cast on him.
START
It had been a hard day but, perhaps I should have said, not so hard in
the place where it counted for my business. I just felt worn-out and
that had had its effect.
My business was Fillon Productions. There was my partner Julie Carnam
and our camera man, Mike Tyrrel, but the producer, director, business
manager, maintenance man, janitor, gofer, all of the above, that was me.
I was also the star, if that is the correct word, when describing my
porn movie business. Julie was our one and only female star. The demand
for our productions was steady but unfortunately very limited. To be
honest, our company was barely making enough to keep going. We just
could not compete with the big guys. The pressure and the stress of the
continual business demands had been getting to me and today, to crown it
all with my lack of sleep from worry, I had hardly been able to get it
up. That involved a lot more takes and didn't help our bottom line
either.
So, feeling a bit inadequate and frustrated and wondering whether I
needed to start on some Viagra or testosterone supplement, I pulled my
chair over to the stained sheet of plywood that served as my desk. I
opened a cupboard drawer, pulled out a bottle of Scotch and poured
myself a couple of fingers while trying to avoid looking at the pile of
stuff, especially bills, in my 'In' basket. I had only had time for a
sip when Julie came to my desk. " Hank, you got a minute?"
"Yeah, sure." I waved her to the chair to sit down, unnecessarily, as we
were good friends. I liked Julie very much. She was fun to work with
and, besides, I liked her 'off stage' too. Julie and I were of course,
the stars for our productions, but we had a good relationship outside
the studio too, comfortable in each other's company, and we frequently
shared beds. She hadn't been herself either today. She had seemed
distracted.
I held up my glass to her. "You having one?"
"No, I'd better not."
I frowned. Julie usually liked a drop of two of Scotch too. I wondered
why she had passed it over this time. I supposed she was intending to
drive somewhere.
"What's up, Julie?"
She seemed to take a while finding the words. At last she gave a forced
smile. "Hank, I did the test yesterday. I have something important to
tell you."
I groaned internally. Yet another problem! What test? "Okay, Julie, what
is it?" I didn't add, 'this time'!
"Hank, I'm pregnant!"
"What?" I spluttered, losing a mouthful of Scotch. I almost fell out of
the chair. "Are you sure?" I cried. "Then who's the father?"
She glared at me. "You are! I haven't been seeing any other man and
Hank, you see, I want to keep the baby. I'm getting on and I always
wanted to have a family sometime."
'Getting on' was a bit of an exaggeration. Julie was only twentysix, a
year younger than me. "Oh God, Julie. Things are tough enough, without
having a kid." Once her belly began to grow her roles in my future
productions would be limited. I wondered idly how much market there
would be for movies where the female star was pregnant.
"I'm sorry, Hank. You know I've been on the pill but it mustn't have
worked. Remember when we were away at Vegas six weeks ago and I
mislaid them for a day or so."
She was close to crying. So was I too, with the problems ahead but I had
to see to her first. "Come here, Julie, over here." She sat on my knee
and I kissed her and held her while she cried on my shoulder. "Okay,
okay, that's all right. We'll manage." I passed her a tissue.
She sniffed and blew her nose. "You sure?"
"Sure I'm sure."
But, as I tidied up after she had gone off, checking the equipment, and
the furnishings, and Julie's lingerie and the bondage gear for any
damage and wear, I was less confident about the company's future.
Impending fatherhood was a shock too. I had very mixed feeling about it.
After thinking about it, it looked like the first thing for the business
was to get another actress. That would involve interviewing some more
women, so I put the word out that I was looking for someone, a 'Talented
Young Actress', as I described it. I wondered how many takers I would
get as I couldn't pay as much as some of the bigger outfits.
At last I had several women let me know they would be interested in a
job and I had them come in for interviews. I had hoped for more
applicants. Maybe the word had gotten out that Julie was pregnant. Any
potential applicant probably assumed it had happened carelessly during
one of our productions and pregnancy would put a crimp in any girl's
earnings.
The first one I interviewed was Monika, a sultry looking brunette. She
was personable enough, and had an exotic looking face, with big dark
eyes and full red lips. She was pretty enough for what I wanted, and
seemed to have a good figure, but when I asked her to strip, she was bit
hesitant and I had to insist. No wonder, there was a big scar over her
belly and her tits were beginning to sag. There might be some demand for
that, but not enough.
The second was Lucille, a strawberry blonde. I was very taken with her
appearance when she came in the door. Her smile was dazzling, but as
soon as she opened her mouth to speak I knew she was unsuitable. Her
voice was harsh and croaking, as if she was talking with a mouth of
broken glass. Still, for many productions, all I needed was for her to
moan or scream effectively, so I had her try a scene, and then it was
obvious that she had absolutely no acting ability either, not even
enough for a porn movie. Her body movements were stiff and a robot could
have delivered the few lines better, so I simply said I would get back
to her.
I thought I might have been finally successful with the third one.
Laurel was reasonably pretty, with a fresh young face, a good figure and
long black hair and she actually made a reasonably believable actress.
In fact I offered her the job.
Then later that day I had a call from Mike. He told me that a friend of
his knew the girl and said she had only arrived in the city a week or so
before. The friend thought she might be underage.
I called the girl in again and asked to see her driver's license or
birth certificate. "Oh gosh, I think I've mislaid them!" she said,
blushing. So I bade her farewell. I didn't need that kind of trouble.
The next one, Susie, said she was twenty-five. She was fairly pretty and
had a nice slim figure. She even spoke her script believably, but when I
cracked a joke and looked closely at the corners of her gray eyes I saw
faint wrinkles. If she was twentyfive she must have lived in a kind of
time warp. She acted well and gave satisfactory moans and cries, but I
knew that under the bright lights of close ups her wrinkles would show
up so I rejected her.
I thought my prayers might have been finally answered with the next
woman. Mike had just left for the day and I was going over some
paperwork when the woman walked in. I noticed right away how pretty she
was, and her figure didn't appear to leave anything to be desired. I was
surprised that she was wearing a dress, one that flattered her figure.
The other applicants had turned up in jeans or shorts.
"Mr. Fillon, I heard that you are looking for an actress." Her voice was
pleasantly soft, yet clear.
"Yes, that's right. You interested?"
"Yes, I'd like to apply for it."
"Your name is?"
"I'm Amanda, Amanda Hughes."
I studied her as I asked her about herself. Yes, she looked as if she
was over eighteen. I had her speak some lines and they were believable,
not that there was much dialogue in my productions.
Just to be sure that she was under no delusions, I told her about my
company and went over what my productions involved. She nodded knowingly
and even asked some pretty frank questions. When I asked her to strip
she did so without any apparent embarrassment, tidily and efficiently
folding her clothes over the chair as she removed them. She had a
pretty, well-endowed figure, with her waist, bust, and hips nicely in
proportion. She was a natural redhead.
She asked about her earnings and did not seem concerned when I told her
that they were on commission. I showed her the facilities. There was not
much, some lingerie supplies, some bondage gear, a section made up like
a suburban bedroom, another part like a kitchen and another corner made
to resemble a dungeon, and she didn't seem fazed at all. In fact she
nodded knowingly.
With the way she kept smiling at me I thought we were getting on well.
She was easy to talk to. I offered her some Scotch but she surprised me
by asking for coffee.
She gave me a pretty smile, showing sparkling gray-green eyes and white,
even teeth. "No thanks, I want to keep my wits about me."
I soon had some coffee ready and I was pouring it when she surprised me
by asking me to strip. I was a bit taken aback. That was the first time
any of the women in my productions had asked me to do that. I wondered
if she was going to take me for a 'test drive' but instead she just
examined me, with her eyes critically running up and down my body. I was
more and more conscious of my beginning paunch but she did not comment
on it. "Can you turn around slowly? I want to see how you look," she
asked and I did so, intrigued by the apparent role reversal.
"You think I'm okay? You'd be happy in scenes with me? Do I pass?" I
asked, trying to put some humor on it. I was in fairly good condition
but I didn't get as much exercise as I should, hence the beginnings of
the paunch. Not that it mattered too much for my productions. The
customers who bought my productions were much more interested in the
women.
"Oh yes, I think you'll do fine. Anyway, better drink your coffee." I
was a bit disappointed when she began to put her clothes back on, but
she had shown me she had a good figure. She did it unhurriedly,
efficiently, finally smoothing her dress about her and tidying her hair.
I took a gulp of coffee and picked up my own underwear to put it back on
but she shook her head, making her red curls dance. "No, just leave it
off."
I was beginning to wonder about this woman. Her actions and attitude
didn't seem right. Although she was very personable, every so often her
eyes got calculating and I got the impression she was evaluating me,
like a schoolmarm faced with a new student.
Then I was aware that I was feeling lethargic. I shook my head to clear
the fog settling in on it.
"What's up? You sleepy?' she asked. She gave a grin. "Maybe I should
feel insulted. You're falling asleep in my company! Better have some
more coffee!"
I tried to take another drink but it was as if I could barely move.
She lightly slapped my face but I barely reacted. "I think you're ready
now," she said, giving a satisfied nod of her pretty head. She fished in
her purse and brought out a little cloth bag, and from that took out a
little book, barely any larger than a diary.
'"What's that?" I asked, trying not to slur the words.
She sat in front of me and fixed her big gray-green eyes on mine. "Mr.
Fillon, Hank Fillon, you and others have come to the attention of a
group of women and, as their representative, they have entrusted me with
this operation.
"We are determined to stop you doing these pornographic productions.
They demean women. We have asked you before and you did not even reply
to our requests. So we are taking control of the situation. You are a
trial. If the procedure works with you we will try it with others until
the industry is wiped out."
I vaguely remembered a letter that I had on my cluttered desk, but had
ignored. "Procedure? What do you mean?"
"You'll see in minute. Oh, by the way, I put a drug in your coffee when
your back was turned. It will keep your body lethargic for an hour or
so."
"What?" I tried to move but I wasn't really in control of my limbs. My
voice was weak too.
"I want to keep you reasonably under control for a few minutes more.
After that it won't matter. Now, about these videos you make ..."
"But there's a demand for my videos!" I protested. "They're not harming
anyone. I pay my employees well!"
"Yes, all two of them. And I gather it's not exactly a prosperous
business concern you have, is it? Maybe you would soon be going out of
business anyway. No, we do not think the business is moral and we are
going to put an end to it. And, so that you appreciate a woman's point
of view more, we are going to make you into a woman. I have here a spell
book. I will read a spell to you. In a few minutes you will fall
unconscious and when you wake up you will be a woman. Then, as you have
to make a new life in a new body, you will appreciate the harm you have
done.
"'You're the first we'll have tried this on. Aren't you flattered?"
Spell book? Make me into a woman? I decided this woman must be ready for
the nut house! I tried to rise but I could hardly move my limbs at all.
"I'd better put you down in case you fall off the chair. I wouldn't want
you to get hurt," she said and she eased me to the floor where I lay,
barely conscious.
"Time to begin!" She opened a page in her little book and started to
read. It was only a jumble of sounds, and I had never heard anything
like it before. It convinced me she was a nut.
It only took minute to read it and she put the book back in the bag,
tied it with a cord and slipped it into her purse.
"I'll leave you now, Mr. Fillon, I'll call Miss Carnam, Julie is it?
She can come and get you just in case you need some attention. Soon
you'll start to shiver, more and more violently then you'll be
unconscious for about a day and a half. You will wake as a woman your
age. Oh yes, you will be quite a good-looking one too. You may find that
you need Miss Carnam's advice on the care and maintenance of your new
body, probably some advice on how to conduct yourself as well. I imagine
you will get all sorts of propositions from men so you may want to know
how to handle them.
"Oh yes, this is an ancient spell book that my organization acquired. I
assure you that the spell is very effective. Bye!"
As she left I tried to rise but whatever she had drugged me with made me
too weak.
I tried to call for help, but my building was remote, and Mike was off
for the day.
She had told me the drug's effects would start to wear off in about an
hour and so I figured I was stuck on the floor until then. I wondered
how to tell Julie about the woman.
I had been lying there for five minutes or so when I gave a small
shiver. I frowned, remembering what the woman had said but the shiver
was gone in a few seconds and put it down to lying naked in the cool
room. Then there was another shiver, and still another. I began to panic
but I could hardly move. In a minute I was shivering violently and I
sank into unconsciousness.
Julie told me later that she had had a call from the woman to come and
get me. She said that when she arrived I was deeply unconscious, but
that my body was almost vibrating with ripples than ran from my feet to
my head and back. She watched fascinated as, over a couple of hours or
so, I changed into a woman. She was frightened, of course, but she did
not panic and call in any medical help.
As the woman had said, it was almost two days before I woke up. I still
remember the shock and trauma of finding myself with boobs and a pussy
instead of a penis and balls, and the problems of adjusting over the
following days, weeks and months. Julie was a wonderful help at that
time. There seemed to be no end of surprises and adjustments to make and
she dried my tears many times.
So, since then I have had to make my way as a woman. That was three
years ago. I do miss my male body sometimes, but the result has its
consolations. I am beautiful, as The Amanda woman said I would be.
Now, I think I have made the best of the change and even made it work
for me.
I have almost finished for the day. I get most of my work in the
evenings. Now that the last customer has gone I undo all the bits and
pieces of my work outfit and put on jeans and a T-shirt. I check my work
clothes for wear and put them aside for laundry.
Before I leave for home I will have a shower and have another change of
clothes as, I want to give the impression to neighbors that I am a
successful female executive type. So I dress in conservative skirted
suits, white or gray blouses, tan hosiery, medium heels, and subtle
makeup when leaving or returning home.
I do a quick check through the place, doing some tidying, picking up the
equipment making sure all is in working order and placing it in its
proper place. I examine the discarded clothing especially carefully.
Today I toss a pair of laddered stockings into the trash and make a note
to order some more. Yes, more fishnet ones too, some clients like these.
I check that the equipment is in working order as I have a busy day
scheduled tomorrow.
I wheel my new leather office chair over to my rosewood desk, open the
computer and go over the accounts. They are satisfactory and I lean back
and look down from the lace curtained window at my new black BMW coupe
waiting in the parking space.
Previously I had used a one storey warehouse for my productions, but
Julie decided that was not quite in character for my new enterprise. It
needed more opulence, with a touch of Victoriana, and nicely private and
discreet in a reasonably respectable neighborhood. We got an older
building, quite well maintained, that gives a better ambience to my
workspace.
I am doing very well. There is a continual demand for my services and
the clients pay me directly. Discreet ads in various media have brought
in as many clients as I am able to handle and I can afford to be
selective. Actually I have had some referrals to from word-of mouth
advertising. My services must be something that some clients discuss at
their clubs as well as takeovers, mergers, acquisitions, share prices or
golf scores. I have given my name to some madames, in case they have
clients that want something a little different.
You see, I took up work as a dominatrix. We already had some of the
right equipment, but, as I have a different size to Julie, I had to make
a major initial investment in clothes like corsets, bras, panties and
stockings for myself, and appropriate gear to fill a wide variety of
male fetishes and fantasies, Bo-Peep costumes, schoolboy and schoolgirl
costumes, shepherdess costumes, harem outfits and so on. Then there were
the whips, paddles, chains, hooks and cuffs needed. Fortunately that was
soon paid off.
For myself, I greet clients fully dressed, usually in severe looking
black skirted suits, occasionally in tight latex cat suits. I always
wear high heeled black shoes. As the sessions proceed I remove my
clothing, one article at a time, usually as far as black corsets and
gartered stockings. Occasionally, once my client is well secured, I
strip until I am naked except for perhaps a black ribbon or collar on my
neck with lacy black thigh-high stockings. I am never absolutely naked,
and intercourse is never permitted.
Julie has taught me a lot about make-up. I keep my hair dyed black and
in a severe style. At work, dark lipstick, eye shadow and other
cosmetics, and jewelry add to the effect. This female face needs more
maintenance than a man's.
I check the apartment too. It is important that it look well maintained.
It needed some work too when I took it over. Exotic furnishings, such as
dark red hanging draperies and elaborate chandeliers add to the ambience
and a room is set aside as a fully equipped dungeon, for the more
adventurous of my clients.
Julie and I have a different relationship now, as you can imagine. We
have set up home together and she is happy to be more-or-less a full-
time mother looking after our darling daughter while I go out to work.
She has her circle of friends. Young mothers like herself, and she
happily goes visiting in her red Cherokee for 'play-dates' for the kids.
She has hinted that she would like another child. I am not sure how that
would be arranged. Some of my clients are quite good-looking, but I'm
not sure if I want their kinky genes mixed with those of Julie's. I have
occasionally wondered about having a child myself, but obviously
pregnant dominatrices would have a limited appeal. I suppose I could
donate one of my eggs or embryos to Julie.
As far as our neighbors know, we are a couple, lesbian, but otherwise
unremarkable. We keep to ourselves or entertain quietly.
At work I call myself 'Madame Oksana', and most times I am usink a
Raassian accent, just so clients are thinkink that I am more exotic.
I no longer have a penis of course. Still, Julie and I manage to satisfy
each other, not quite in the same way as before, but fairly effectively.
As far as I can find out, although there may have been two other minor
producers, I was the only one I know who was definitely changed by the
spell. I don't know why the Amanda woman chose me. I only hope that she
doesn't come around again to accuse me of exploiting men this time. But
what could she do? Change me back to a man?
END
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