The Determined Man, Part 7 free porn video

Sorry for the huge delay in posting this update. Having thought I was near the end of the story and having said that Part 6 was the penultimate part, I then found that I had a lot more to write than I thought. I decided to wait until everything was actually finished before posting any more. We are now at that place, so here is Part 7. There will be 11 parts in total, so four more after this. I'll try to post a new one every few days. Chapter 16 He was immaculate. There was not a single crease or seemingly a single speck of dust upon his perfectly tailored Italian suit. His cufflinks, most likely platinum, matched his watch, and his hair, smart, but with a hint of youthful modernity, was perfectly in place. He looked first at Amanda, his wife, bending down to kiss her slowly and gently with a single hand placed softly against her cheek and beneath her chin, cradling her like the head of a flower. Amanda's eyes remained closed in ecstasy for several seconds as Tony raised himself back to his full, considerable height and turned his eyes towards Wynne. "Wynne," he said simply and with gravity. "Our guest of honour. You look just as I had imagined you would." Wynne had a strange urge to curtsy but thought better of it. Instead she stepped forward and held out her hand. Tony entirely ignored her gesture and looked Wynne up and down with a smile, as if she were an expensive vintage car that had just come into his possession. "Yes. Quite, quite fine." Amanda had now regained her composure and was busy taking Tony's coat and bag. In the brief moment that this afforded, Wynne's mind was spinning. Did Tony know who she was? Who she had been? Clearly he would know that she was a transformee, but would the business owner know the precise details of every case? Was the smile in his eyes as he beheld her simply generic pride in the work of his company, or was there amusement at the memory of who she had once been? What had he meant by "just as he had imagined". Imagined when? Upon knowing of a new transformee? Or upon learning that it was William who was to undergo the process? Or even at the restaurant when they last met, before William had even said a word about the project. Tony's thoughts seemed impenetrable, but Wynne wasn't sure whether her inability to read him was just her own current flustered state of mind or whether Tony was operating on a far higher mental plane than the likes of her, rendering his thoughts completely incomprehensible to mere mortals such as herself. And what about Amanda? Did she know that Tony was the owner of the company that had changed her? If she did then what did that mean? Did he have some kind of hold on her? If she didn't know then what did that mean? Was Tony abusing his position? Or did Amanda just fall, as a matter of absolute nature, madly in love with this man the moment she met him. This tall, handsome, powerful man....... "It's so wonderful that you're home darling," Amanda was saying. "I've prepared roast lamb for you. Come and sit down and tell me about your day." Tony removed his piercing gaze from Wynne, making her feel suddenly felt weightless and dizzy, as if dropping from a great height, and turned to Amanda. "Thank you my little cherub," he said. "It smells delightful." The food tasted even better than Wynne had imagined. Almost good enough to distract her from the thoughts circling in her head. Tony sat at the head of the table with Amanda to his right and was talking to her about his day in fairly vague, non-specific ways. It all sounded so normal. Lunch with the finance director of such and such a company (The restaurant was very nice apparently, but the starter was a little cold), a supply issue with such and such other company. He interspersed the facts of his day with small nuggets of wisdom about the nature of business and people in general, Amanda receiving his words as if they were becoming instantaneously emblazoned upon stone tablets. Amanda nodded and smiled and asked follow up questions. It was clear that Tony's day and Tony's thoughts were the priority, with her own experiences to be related back to him later if there was time. From her position to the left of Tony, Wynne could see the whole family. Alongside Amanda was the high-chair containing little Charlotte, who bashed her plastic spoon into her plastic bowl, just like any other two year old. Isobel sat at the opposite end of the table to Tony, boosted up by a cushion on her seat and paying attention to her father as she ate politely. She clearly knew well that when her daddy spoke he was to be respectfully listened to. Eventually, Tony apparently determined that he had said enough, and he asked Amanda how her day had been. He indicated with one of those unreadable smiles towards Wynne as he spoke "I hope you both had a little fun." "Oh yes! Thank you darling, we did!" exclaimed a beaming Amanda. "We went out and bought some lovely clothes. Thank you so much for my allowance my love, it is so very generous of you and I know that Wynne was very appreciative too." Amanda looked towards Wynne as she spoke and she and Tony both paused, clearly expecting a response. Wynne looked from one to the other, unsure of what to say. The total focus in the room upon pleasing Tony was unsettling, but also compelling. A part of her wanted to rebel, but that part was losing. It was just like all of those other groups down the years that William had changed for in order to fit in. Changing how he spoke, how he dressed, even changing his name from the familiar Billy to the more acceptable William. "Um.....Yes," she said quietly. Tony smiled at Wynne again. "You're welcome Wynne. It's a my pleasure to help such an attractive girl become even more beautiful." He turned momentarily to Isobel. "Doesn't our guest look so beautiful Isobel? You know, it's very important for girls to be beautiful." The young lady at the end of the table was clearly well aware of this fact as she nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, daddy, she looks beautiful like a princess." She turned to Amanda. "When I'm older I'll look beautiful too won't I mummy." "Oh absolutely." Tony smiled at his ladyfolk and then turned back to Wynne. "Why don't you give us a twirl and show us that outfit?" With everyone else round the table in such strong agreement, Wynne felt it best to oblige. She stood and smoothed out her skirt and smiled at her audience. Wynne turned on the spot, taking small steps in her mid-level black heels. She realised that this little act was peculiarly feminine and she couldn't help but hold out her hands, with arms bent at the elbow, as she turned. Amanda and Isobel were both dewy eyed as they looked at her, almost in a trance. Tony was also smiling, but the look on his face was something else as well, though Wynne couldn't quite work out what. "Exquisite," he said. "Do you like it Wynne?" "Oh yes, thank you." "What do you like about it?" The question seemed quite innocent on its face. It could almost be mistaken for friendly, but Wynne suddenly felt subject to a strange kind of pressure. The question was just a little too direct. A little too much like an interview question. Like there was a right and a wrong answer. "Um......I like that the skirt has a high waist...." "Yes," said Tony. "And why do you like that particularly? Wynne looked to Amanda for help, but she was just looking on happily, as if Tony's question was the most natural thing in the world and that Wynne should have absolutely no problem or concern answering. "Um....It emphasises my small waist...." "Yes, good. Small in comparison to what?" "My hips?" "And? "And....my bottom?" "And you like that?" "Yes." "Say it." The conversation had now distinctly changed in character, but Amanda and Isobel seemed as calm as ever and were offering Wynne no help at all. She considered not answering, but Tony's ice cold stare was overwhelming. "I like it." "Yes, you've told us that. But put it all together. Tell me that you like it and exactly why." Wynne hesitated, but she was too far gone now not to comply. "I like the skirt--" "Your skirt," Tony corrected. "Yes. I like my skirt because it emphasises my small waist in comparison to my wide hips and bottom." "And why does that make you happy?" "Because-" Wynne searched for the right answer. "Because it's feminine." "Good," said Tony. "And?" It took Wynne several seconds to speak, as she thought hard about what Tony wanted to hear. "Because it's sexy?" she offered. A wide smile spread slowly across Tony's face. "Yes, that's right Wynne. You want to be a sexy girl, yes?" "Yes." "Say it." She didn't want to. And yet she did. "I want to be a sexy girl." Tony smiled silently. Several seconds passed. Only the sound of baby Charlotte quietly beginning to fuss for her mother could be heard. Tony slowly turned in her direction. "Mandy my love, please could you tend to the baby?" he said calmly, then, turning to Wynne "Please, do sit down Wynne my dear." Amanda busied herself with Charlotte, bringing the baby to her lap to nurse her at the breast, an expression of deep satisfaction and peace coming over the face of both mother and child. Tony spoke again to Wynne, this time with an easy charm as light and comfortable as if they were old friends. "I'm glad you enjoyed your day. Did you like the island?" He casually placed a forkful of food in his mouth as he waited for her to respond. Wynne stuttered her way into a nice normal conversation, which went on for several minutes without either of them really saying anything. The beach was beautiful, the weather was lovely, etc. It was all meaningless, but the demand on Wynne to engage was enough to stop her from properly assessing the very different conversation that had preceded it. Her recollection began to grow fuzzy. Surely it hadn't been quite as she remembered it. It was probably just her own nervousness and awkwardness in her new femininity that had made Tony's enquiries feel strange and pressured. Amanda had been looking on and had clearly seen nothing wrong with his line of questioning. Perhaps she had just imagined that bit about her saying she wanted to be sexy? Where those the actual words? Maybe it was just something a bit like that and she had inferred something else. Wynne decided that the best thing to do at this stage was just to focus on what was happening now. She was in a beautiful house, conversation was perfectly pleasant and the food was quite superb. The only issue she had with it was that there was rather too much for her. She was feeling really quite full but she seemed to have barely made it halfway through her plate. She soldiered on but soon started feeling quite uncomfortable in her tummy. Her tight skirt was pressing into her flesh around her waist. In fact, she was now feeling uncomfortable in more than just her tummy. The skirt was feeling strangely tight around her bottom and thighs too. It didn't make sense and Wynne wrinkled up her nose in confusion. "Something wrong dear?" asked Tony. "Oh, um....It's nothing," said Wynne, not wanting to draw attention to herself. It wasn't nothing though. It was definitely something. Wynne decided to go to the bathroom, wondering if relieving herself might ease the discomfort. She tried to get up but found herself falling back down into her chair. She could barely move her legs. She pushed herself away from the table a little and looked down. Horrifyingly, she saw that her legs had changed drastically. Her skirt was stretched almost to breaking point across her now very large thighs that entirely filled the skirt, pressing together hard in the middle and even bulging out from the hemline. Her tummy similarly escaped over the top creating the most awful muffin-top effect. Creases had formed at her knees and even at her ankles, between new ballooning rolls of fat. She gasped in shock and her eyes were as wide as saucers. There was no hiding her predicament. Isobel stared at her like a circus freak and a look of deep worry came over Amanda, who still held Charlotte in her arms. Only Tony reacted with action. "It's OK. It's OK. You're having a reaction, but I'm going to drive you to the facility and it'll be alright." Wynne's world was spinning again and her head lolled back. She felt Tony's strong arms lift her from her seat and start carrying her towards the door of the house, legs flapping like a fish. Darkness descended. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 17 The room she awoke in was bright. Wynne blinked her eyes several times to help them adjust. As her vision cleared she hoped for the comforting friendly smile of Amanda, but instead she encountered the masked face of the doctor. Looking around she saw the equally unreadable face of Tony as he stood a little way back. The doctor was speaking. "....and so you should be very grateful that you were brought here so quickly," the doctor indicated with a slight nod towards Tony. Something glinted in the slightly narrowing eyes of the only man in the room. The doctor continued. "Unfortunately Miss Cresswell, our previous intervention came too late to establish the stability that we hoped it would. We had hoped that your brain would simply revert to it's previous, unaltered state. However, in making the initial changes to your intellectual capabilities, the nannites had already changed the operation of your brain substantially and it had become dependent on their continuing activity. The change to the prioritisation that we instigated resulted in insufficient nannites remaining in your cranial region to maintain your intellect at its previous level. As this was still a high priority task, resources were drawn from elsewhere in your body, namely the region from your waist down. Unfortunately this area was also not yet fully stabilised and the loss of resources caused a cascading effect that has resulted in your present situation." Wynne was barely able to follow the doctor's words due to substantial pain that she felt almost all over her body. Lifting her head from the table she saw that somehow she was still wearing the black skirt, although she could now hardly recognise it, stretched as it was to almost breaking point and with flesh erupting from either end in formless mounds and lumps. The only thing that was familiar was her body from the rib- cage up, her perfect little breasts bare to the air and bobbing on her chest as she strained to get a better view of her situation, like fishing boats against the ocean swell of her lower body. "Now, I understand that you must be in some discomfort Miss Cresswell. Unfortunately, if our proposed remedial action is to be carried out, it is necessary for the skirt to remain in place. We do not have to hand any garments into which the nannites could be infused which could cover your body as it is now, and if we were to remove the skirt we would never be able to put it back in place. We have added a special compound to increase its strength and have already applied the nannites, ready for instruction should you choose to proceed. We have also administered a painkiller to make you more comfortable" One thing came through to Wynne. "So you can fix it?" "Well," said the doctor. "We can increase the prioritisation of maintaining a good figure, which will correct your appearance, but I am afraid it means drawing even more power from your brain. Your intelligence would fall to around an average level for the general population." Wynne gasped. Her mind was being threatened. Wasn't that her very self? Who would she be if she had only average intelligence? She couldn't even imagine it. And yet. Could she really go on with life with a body like she had now. She would be virtually bed-ridden. She looked again at the skirt. Such a sorry shadow of what it had once been: elegant, svelte, irresistibly feminine. With her body as it was she would never be able to wear anything like that again. This one day wearing all of the clothes that she had yearned to wear for so many years, would become a taunt; A mocking reminder. She reached in desperation for another option. "Couldn't I just have conventional surgery?" The doctor shook her head slowly. "The operation of the nanotechnology is complex. Surgery that drastic would have severe and highly unpredictable consequences." So this was it. Mind or body. With the last use of her current mind she weighed the options. There was a time when William had followed the dualism of Descartes and believed the mind to be clearly superior to the body: Of greater importance and more fundamental to who a person is. More recently though he had tended more towards an integrated view of the person, as both psychology and physiology demonstrated the interdependent nature of mind and body with ever greater clarity. He was persuaded, both due to the superior logic of the argument and also in no small part after having been inspired by Harriet's embrace of the real; of the physical. And so, logically and through honest examination of his own experience, which is the only real measure in the end, the mind and body must be given equal footing. And it came down to this: Brilliant mind and terrible body or average mind and brilliant body. Brilliant and terrible versus brilliant and average. The logical ability of Wynne's brain led to her decision to sacrifice that same ability, and the inspiration of the beautiful woman in William's life led him to choose to be a beautiful woman himself. She nodded. "Do it." To Wynne's surprise it wasn't the doctor who acted, but Tony. He held a small device in his hand and flicked a switch. There was a moment when nothing happened and Wynne felt panic rising in her throat. Maybe it wasn't working! Maybe she would be stuck like this forever. Then she felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. The skirt tensed and tried to tighten, sending Wynne's rolls of fat jiggling uncontrollably. She tried to catch her breath, and failed. Her head was thrashing about with the shock of it, so she hardly noticed the wave of energy flashing into her body. Slowly though, she managed to begin drawing air in through her mouth and nose and then, even more slowly, the pain began to subside. She noticed her legs shift in the dress, sliding against each other at the thigh for the first time since the dinner table. She managed to control her head enough to look down at her body and she saw that it was beginning to take on the shape of a woman again. Her waist now almost fit into the top of the skirt, stretched somewhat as it still was. And she could see her feet! She laughed at the thought. She hadn't been able to see her feet!? That was so silly! She wiggled her toes. A little wave of dizziness passed over her. The changes continued. The extra creases left her lower legs and they became calf shaped again. It took only seconds. She couldn't help herself from smiling as she became beautiful again. She smiled at the doctor. She looked over to the side of the room and smiled at Tony. His eyes sparkled and a skinny grin played at the corners of his mouth. She didn't understand his expression and so she laughed. Laughing was a good way of dealing with things she didn't understand. She was becoming beautiful again. She didn't understand how, and she didn't need to. She could just laugh at the joy of it. Her waist was now tiny again and she ran her slender fingers across her flat tummy. It felt firm, but the skin above where the skirt finished at the waist, was soft and supple. Was it even smaller now? She wrinkled her little nose as she tried to decide. Maybe. Or maybe her hips were wider? She ran her hands down along her sides. Yes, her hips did feel fuller. She giggled. Nothing wrong with that, she thought. She kicked her legs in delight. Oooh! Were they longer too? She was pretty sure they were! "The process is complete," said the Doctor. "Do you feel able to try to stand Miss Cresswell? With a structural change such as this, I'd like to check that your motor functions are working correctly." Wynne nodded and smiled to the doctor. She swung her legs around and placed them on the ground then carefully stood up. She took one step forward and then another. It felt a little different. But OK! She smiled again at the doctor. "I feel OK!" she said brightly. "I think." "Very good, Ms Cresswell. But please take a moment and be sure. Does anything seem strange?" She thought again. She seemed a little taller than she had been, and her hips were definitely a little more shapely. She decided to walk up and down a bit, just to make sure that everything was in order. She walked to one end of the room. It did feel a bit different, but she wasn't sure why. The skirt maybe didn't fit her quite as it had. It seemed to be a little tighter around her hips, thighs and bottom. She turned. At the other end of the room she saw a mirror and she started to walk towards it. Oh! A smile broke out, slowly but irresistibly across her lips. She looked so sexy as she walked! She stopped, and then started again. Yes, she found herself naturally placing one foot in front of the other as she walked and her hips swayed much more now. The exaggerated rhythm was also causing her bare breasts to bounce more emphatically. She stopped again and struck a pose. Oh my. She had quite a bottom. The silhouette of the skirt was now blessed with a rear that curved out into an almost perfect semi-circle, high and round and sitting below a tiny, waspish waist. The effect of this, combined with her new longer legs, was to cause the hem of the skirt, which had been the regulation one biro length above the knee, to now seem several inches higher. "Very good," said the doctor. "You appear to be walking well enough. Please could you---" The doctor stopped mid-sentence and Wynne turned to see the cause. She was just in time to see the doctor meeting Tony's stare, before the doctor lowered her eyes, turned and left the room. Tony didn't watch the doctor leave, but instead smiled at Wynne. "Are you feeling well?" His voice was soft and level, but there was something else, just under the surface. Wynne began to feel unsettled and she stumbled over her words. "Erm...Yes I'm fine." "You seem a little worried my dear" said Tony "You don't have to be worried. I want you to feel absolutely comfortable around me, Wynne. I hope it doesn't upset you that I knew you as William." He knew. Wynne froze, taking in this information. Tony laughed. "Of course I know, my sweet little Wynne! But you really should not be concerned. I also know that the person I see before me now is the real you. The time we should have felt uncomfortable was before, when you were not in the right body. Now, you are magnificent. You are the perfect you. You are Wynne." Despite her unease, Tony's words made Wynne smile. Every girl likes to be complimented. But her wariness still showed on her face. "But..." she faltered. "You're not going to tell anyone?" Tony smiled. "It is entirely up to you how much you choose to share about your old life. However, I have found that many of my girls do like to talk about it. We find that it is good to be open about how we're feeling, within the constraints of necessary discretion of course." Wynne tried to reconcile this apparent wish for openness with the extreme measures the company had taken to protect it's secrecy. It all seemed off somehow, and nothing was more strange than the person of Tony. "And what about you?" she asked, a little surge of assertiveness coursing through her veins "Are you open as well? Does Amanda know that you run the company that changed her?" "Ah yes. Sweet, sweet Mandy." Tony paused, entirely unaffected by Wynne's pointed question and seemingly reminiscing. "Oh yes, Mandy knows who I am. She absolutely loves that I am the one who has given her this new life. She knows who I am and-" He paused. "I know who she is." Silence reigned for a few seconds before Tony spoke again. "Wynne. Would you like to know who Mandy is? I'd rather enjoy telling you I think." Wynne nodded and Tony continued. "Well. Let me start by asking you a question. Do you see how happy and contented Mandy is devoting herself to me and the children? You have seen the pure bliss on her face as I kiss her, yes? She wishes to hold that moment for ever. It is the most perfect happiness for her" Tony waited for Wynne's response. Something about Tony made her nervous of agreeing with him. She knew instinctively that his intellect was greater than hers and she had a strong feeling of being herded like a sheep towards the slaughter house. However, she knew that it was true that Mandy was hugely happy being committed to Tony. She couldn't deny it. "Yes." "Yes," Tony repeated slowly with a smile "And do you see that she is entirely at ease with her life? That she knows exactly what she should be doing and is not troubled by anxieties and questions about her role? You can see it in the spring in her step as she prepares each delicious meal for me, can't you?" Again this was undeniable. Wynne admitted to herself that she had even felt a little jealous of how simple and certain Amanda seemed to find her life. Even in the calmest moments of Wynne's life, there had always been questioning, analysing thoughts in the back of Wynne's mind. "Yes." Tony smiled again and increased the volume and speed of his monologue. "You see, Wynne, life is to be enjoyed. None of us can understand everything and seeking to do so only leads to disappointment and confusion. Devotion, loyalty, certainty. These are all great comforts. Sources of great inner peace. Unfortunately, lovely Amanda has not always known these things. There was a time when she was a great distance from such happiness and I helped her to find it." Tony continued to speak, but Wynne began to get the feeling that it was not really for her benefit. He strode slowly around the room and looked upwards, enjoying his own words and radiating immense pride. "Amanda was once a young man named Andrew. A young man indirectly in my employ. Unfortunately, Andrew had little concept of where he fitted in the world. He did not have a firm foundation. And so, when he saw something that he didn't understand; something which challenged his fragile view of the world, a view that he had most precariously and tentatively balanced his beliefs upon, he did not know how to react." Tony shook his head sadly. "So poor misguided Andrew sought to destroy it. He disregarded all of the loyalty that we had shown to him; All of the careful nurturing training, all of the trust that we had placed in him, and he set himself against us." "Of course, when we discovered Andrew's plans we were angry. But then I realised that his soul was greatly troubled, and my anger turned to concern for his wellbeing. Andrew was searching for something. A purpose in his life. I knew that what Andrew needed was to understand the great virtues of loyalty and devotion. I knew how to give this to Andrew and I took pity on him. Andrew, of course, required some further training to help him realise that our plan for him was for the best, but eventually he came to realise that it fulfilled what he really wanted: A clear, and unencumbered way to live his life." Wynne listened with growing terror. Her mind couldn't accept the implications of what Tony was saying. She tried to rationalise it; to believe that what he described was a fair even-handed approach. Because if it wasn't.....If it was what it sounded like.....It was too awful to contemplate. In contrast to her thoughts, her heart had readily grasped the gravity of the situation and was leaping in her chest. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. Instead, she froze. Her big pretty eyes were open wide and her full beautiful lips were firmly set together in fear. Tony continued, maintaining his dramatic delivery, but now fixing his eyes upon Wynne, driving each point into her consciousness. "Yes, I showed great compassion for young Andrew and I took him into my home. I even bestowed upon him the honour of becoming my wife. My loving and devoted wife. She is ever so happy now. I have rarely seen such peace as I see on her face when I enter her moist, welcoming, pussy." Tony glance down, not so subtly, at Wynne's crotch before continuing, and Wynne felt the muscles in her thighs tightening in response. "It is what she is made for, and she knows that, deeply in her soul. She gasps and moans because she never knew that happiness like that could exist. When I cradle her big beautiful breast in my hand and thrust my huge cock even deeper inside her, she knows that her exquisite body is bringing me great pleasure and she knows that she has a purpose. She knows that she is fulfilling an important role in life. Tony paused again, and a glassy happiness passed over his eyes, which were still fixed upon Wynne's. "And her joy when I present my dick to her at the end of a day! She takes it into her mouth with such tenderness; such love. And then she looks up at me with those big soft eyes while her plump lips are wrapped around my cock....." Tony trailed off. He looked to Wynne with a simple unguarded smile upon his face, looking for all the world like a father recalling a tender moment with his young daughter. "She is ever such a good wife." Wynne listened to Tony's words and examined his face. He truly believed what he was saying. She was horrified. But something else, something strange stirred in her. Some small warmth that somehow began to disrupt her fear and her abhorence at what was being said. Mandy was happy. Tony was happy too. Even though everything seemed wrong, something, somehow, seemed strangely right. She understood. She understood why Amanda would feel so happy. She imagined what it would be like to bring such pleasure to someone else, and to know that this was the only thing that mattered. It felt good......It felt...... She hear a ringing sound. Was it in her head? No, it was definitely there in the room. A telephone? She looked around, and Tony turned towards the sound as well. There in the corner was a collection of all of her shopping bags, and in the middle of them was a handbag that Lana had bought for her. Wynne wanted to answer the phone, but one look at Tony and she held back, instinctively knowing that she had to wait for permission. Instead, Tony turned and slowly walked towards the bag himself. He picked it up and held it out to her. "I think you ought to answer it," he said. Wynne took the handbag and looked inside. She didn't even know that she had a phone, but it was her bag, so it must be her phone. It was pink, with a bejewelled case. The display informed her that the caller was Lana. She pressed the friendly green button to accept the call. "Hello? Lana?" "Hey hun. How's it going there with lovely perfect Mrs Housewife? Ready to ditch it and come out and play?" Lana's voice seemed to belong in a different universe to the strange, disturbing, confusing, seductive revelations that Tony had imparted. Wynne reached for the lifeline. "Erm, yes, sure." She looked down at her bare breasts. "I'll need a bit of time to get ready." "Well, durrr," said Lana. "It's fair too early to actually go out. Getting ready is half the fun. Get a car to take you over to mine and I'll show you how to doll yourself up properly." Wynne just wanted to escape. She was scared of where her own thoughts would take her if she stayed too much longer with Tony. She also wasn't at all keen on the idea of putting on make up and going out on the town. She felt that she'd rather curl up into a ball and go to sleep; get some space to think about everything that had happened. But Lana's call was a way out of this room, so she took it. "That sounds great Lana." Her voice was shaking. She paused, terrified that her voice would reveal her fear to Tony. Or maybe that's actually what she wanted? To open up, to lay her feelings bare before this powerful man. He would be benevolent. He would comfort her.....He would.... Wynne stopped herself and shook her head slightly to try to clear it. She was confused. She needed to get out of there. "I'll get a car arranged and come straight over to yours. What's the address?" Tony was still standing nearby, apparently entirely at ease with the plans he could hear being made on the phone. He even reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a small pad of paper and a pen. Wynne took down the address she was given and ended the call. "A night out with Lana I hear," said Tony. "She's a great girl. I hope you really enjoy yourself." --------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 18 Wynne sat in the back of the hire car on the way to Lana's and adjusted her dress for the third time in five minutes. It had taken her a few tries to tie the two strands around her neck just right, but eventually she had done it and now she knew that it looked great stretched over her tits and framing them perfectly, just as it had in the shop. She had been careful to make sure that both sides were even. Maybe she'd spent more time than had been strictly necessary adjusting herself, she admitted with a funny little smile. What bothered her now was the lower portion of the dress. Her new rear and hips made what was already a high hemline, positively scandalous. The way the fabric gathered at the front of the dress meant that it came up even higher, and she was pretty sure that when she was sitting down, as she was now, the little white satin panties she had on would be visible to all unless she crossed her legs extremely firmly. She tugged again at the front of the dress and shifted her bottom in the seat. She could just run. She could tell the driver to take her somewhere else and try to immediately sever all ties to the company; Leave behind Amanda, Lana, and especially Tony. But then, she may well not get far. Tony's story about Amanda suggested that they didn't look kindly upon people who might be any kind of risk. It may be best just to play along, keep her head down and not upset anyone and then slowly, over time, ease herself away. That seemed like a lot of work though. She didn't know whether she'd be able to do it. Several times she almost issued new instructions to the driver, but each time something stopped her. Something made up mostly of fear. There was something else there as well though. She couldn't put her finger on it. Some sense that she owed someone to see this through. Lana lived in a fabulous apartment on the fifteenth floor of a modern block with views of a beautiful bay. She welcomed Wynne at her door with smouldering eyes and a wicked smile that looked like it could equally bring a dead man back to life or put a living man to death. --------------------------------------- From Lana's dramatic dress sense, Wynne had expected her to be into some pretty heavy music; maybe some goth metal or some such. So Wynne was surprised that she now found herself sipping a strawberry daiquiri while watching Lana slink smoothly around the room to Taylor Swift. Wynne had come to realise that Lana was not always as she seemed. It was almost as if different elements of different people's ideas of a desirable woman had been thrown together without reference to the deeper causes that might normally accompany those elements, or whether those elements went together at all. She wore clothes that spoke of dominance and a rejection of life's rules, and yet there was no real rebelliousness or independence underneath. She maintained a smoky, sexy, adult demeanor and then suddenly reacted with glee like a little girl to the excesses and pleasures of life like shopping and make-up. She spoke filthily and freely and yet seemed happy to be essentially docile and go along with what was asked of her by the company. Lana mouthed the words of the song to herself slowly and sensuously. Wynne couldn't help but smile. Many times she had imagined being a part of the ritual of girls dolling themselves up for a night out. Now here she was, sitting at a dresser with cocktail in hand and a dizzying array of cosmetics and hair products set out beside her. Lana had of course been very helpful, selecting different products and advising on their application. She had tried to educate Wynne to help her to do it herself rather than doing it for her and Wynne had been thrilled when she had managed to successfully apply both lip liner and lipstick herself, managing to blend them successfully so that it just looked like she had wonderfully luscious lips. Lana had taken over when it came to the eyes, as she said that finding the right look for Wynne required an experienced hand, but she reassured Wynne that once they'd arrived on a style she'd talk her through exactly how to do it so she could do it next time. She explained to Wynne all of the secrets as she fine tuned the shape of her eyebrow and accentuated her large eyes with the right eyeshadow. For Wynne the most extraordinary moment came with the medieval looking eyelash curlers. She gasped a little as she saw her beautiful long lashes that looked almost fake and the effect they had on her whole face. Lana walked with a swaying motion in time with the music to stand directly in front of Wynne, bent down and narrowed her eyes to make another examination of Wynne's make-up enhanced face. Wynne just stared back at Lana and allowed her to make her assessment. Lana reached past Wynne to take something from the table, leaving her breasts hovering inches from Wynne's face. After a moment, she leaned back again and applied the tiniest of touches of a pencil to each of Wynne's eyes. "Yes, I think that's it," announced Lana, spinning Wynne around in her chair to look at herself in the mirror. Wynne smiled, both with happiness at seeing how beautiful she looked, and also in bemusement. The juxtaposition between the deeply worrying, shake- you-to-the-core revelations from Tony and the total engrossment in something with such a clear, tangible and yet utterly frivolous purpose was quite ludicrous. They were just making themselves pretty. That was all. When she'd first arrived at Lana's flat, Wynne had felt like it was a refuge. Just to be in a home and not in the facility; that place where her newly constructed world seemed to begin to crumble, was a huge relief. She clung to the normality of it. She had not wanted to talk about anything that had happened. Instead she had entered into long conversations about where the coolest parts of town were, the club they would be going to, what cool DJ was playing etc. Even when Lana opened by complimenting her dress and cooing with delight over how sexy Wynne was, she brushed off Lana's questions about how it was that she looked even better in the little white number than before. It was easy enough simply to return Lana's compliments, and Lana seemed quite happy for the conversation to be turned around to how gorgeous she was. Lana's blood-red dress clung to her extravagant curves and the laces at the front stretched between her large round breasts. It covered only the minimum of her body, as if her skin raged a violent fire against the concept of clothing, and this dress was the pure gemstone that survived the blaze. True to the good and evil motif Lana had proposed, Lana was wearing matching blood-red thigh-high stiletto boots, leaving a tantalising strip of leg-flesh on display, reaching up to the scandalously high hemline of the dress. Her eyes were dramatic and complex with reds, purples and blacks and her hair styled up with spiky black fronds erupting behind her. She had added a nose ring, and the ear at the pinnacle of her climbing rose tattoo was dripping with an abundance of spiky and jewel-studded metal. Wynne's look was similarly dramatic but in some ways the polar opposite, with her make up featuring light blues and golds, drawing out the incredible brightness of her eyes. Her lipstick was soft pink, making her permanently parted lips seem irresistibly unblemished and inviting, and body glitter emphasised her high cheekbones. Her wonderfully lustrous hair fell in thick soft waves over her shoulders and down her back. On her feet she wore impossibly cute open-toed glittery-white sandals with a four inch heel and adorned at the front by a perfect ribbon bow with a blue gemstone at it's heart. Wynne's heart skipped a beat to look at herself like this. So pretty, so alluring, so feminine. She was all softness, all beauty. Every inch of her spoke of her youthful sexual ripeness, just ready for the plucking. She had longed for this, and in this moment, it was all worth it. All of the money, all of the loss, all of the fear and uncertainty. For this. To be her. Even if it was only for a heartbeat. Wynne's thoughts were interrupted by a squeal from Lana as another song started up, Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepson. She skipped over to Wynne with quick short steps and took her hand in her own. "Oooooh, I love this song! Dance with me! Dance with me!" Lana pulled Wynne to her feet and soon Wynne was moving along to the beat too. Lana was swaying her hips back and forth, arms stretched up in the air, pushing her boobs even higher up her chest. She lowered one long outstretched arm and levelled it, pointing at Wynne. She strutted one step forward and then another, her hand wrapping itself around Wynne's neck. Wynne reacted with a smile. She flicked her head left and right in time to the music, causing her hair to be tossed from shoulder to shoulder. Feeling the soft touch of her hair moving across her back, she smiled again. She moved her hips to match the movement of her hair. It felt good. It felt natural. Lana was spinning around in glee now. "Wooo!" she trilled and Wynne joined her vocal exclamation of happiness. Wynne had rarely simply let her body move. She melted into it now, shimmying around the room and circling Lana as they both spun and swayed. Rather than being a cause of difficulty she actually found her heels to be easy to dance in. They caused her to feel upward, tall and light, and produced a curve to her back that made her feel incredibly sexy. Lana was now moving closer. Her hands were on Wynne's waist and they found a rhythm together, their hips swaying in unison. Lana looked into Wynne's eyes and smiled her wicked grin. Wynne felt something fluttering in her soul. Lana moved her hands upwards along the contour of Wynne's body, around the swell of her breasts and up again, raising Wynne's arms up into the air. Holding Wynne's arms up above her head, Lana then quickly lowered one hand to Wynne's hip and spun her around, pressing into her from behind in the same fluid motion. The girls were now dancing with Lana pressing into Wynne from behind. She took a hold of Wynne's hips and drew in her bottom to press up against her. Wynne was just having fun. This is what she'd always seen all the girls do, in clubs, in films, in her imagination. With her hands on Wynne's hips, Lana began to dictate the movement. The sways became wider and deeper, with Wynne finding that she now had to bend her knee at the apex of each sway. Lana pushed forward, causing Wynne to arch her back. With her bottom pressed up against Lana, Wynne became more and more aware of its plump grandeur. It was magnificent and this was its purpose. To be pressed and squeezed and to sway seductively. But this was just rehearsal. Its true purpose, she slowly realised, was to be pressed and squeezed and to sway seductively, for men. She began to imagine that Lana's hands were those of a man: Olly's from the beach perhaps. Yes, he would enjoy this, she thought with great joy. His hands would be firmly around her hips. His breath would be upon her neck. His crotch would be pressed up against her soft round bottom, moving against her as they danced. His cock would be pressing into her dress as it hardened. Wynne was so engrossed in her fantasy that she almost gasped when Lana suddenly pulled away. It took her a few moments to realise that it was Lana's phone. It was the taxi, and it was time to go dancing.