A sexual favour for a good career
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My New Career - Chapter 12 free porn video
MY NEW CAREER - PART 12
As the door swung open and I was carried over the threshold, I floated on
a cloud of happiness I could never have imagined experiencing.
If someone had suggested to me a year ago that I would be married, that
the bride would wear white, that the reception would be held at the
city's most exclusive harbourside hotel and that I would spend my wedding
night in its bridal suite, with a view rivalling any in the world, before
heading overseas for a honeymoon ... well, I would have laughed myself
silly.
And if I'd been told that I would be the bride, I would have been both
shocked and offended. Yet here I was.
As my husband - my face still creased into a smile of astonishment every
time I thought of him as that - put me down and went off in search of the
promised champagne, I wandered into the bedroom and stood pensively in
front of a full length mirror.
I had refused to change out of my wedding dress for the reception,
because I simply couldn't bear to be parted from it so soon. As it had
done so many times already that day, my breath caught in my throat as I
saw the reflection. The dress was beautiful ... and so was I, like a
model straight out of the pages of a bridal magazine.
The dress had a full-length satin skirt overlaid by a latticework of
lace. It clung pleasingly to my hips, accentuating a figure that months
of hormone treatment had made increasingly curvy. But the eye was drawn
to the top, a bodice with a plunging neckline and delicate lace shoulder
straps. Two lacy cups both concealed and drew attention to my newest
assets, the creamy mounds of flesh that were now my proudest possessions.
I had spent so many months dancing and performing flat-chested at Club
Angel, wondering what it would be like to fill out a top. And now I knew
- and I loved it.
Having breasts protruding in front of me had certainly taken some getting
used to - and so too had wearing a bra. But while the B-cups I had chosen
were large enough to give me a cleavage, they weren't so big that I found
them a nuisance. If anything, the problem was resisting the constant urge
to reach up and fondle them. Especially the way that stroking the nipples
made me tingle down there ..
In any case, nice as those sensations could be, their physical presence
was less important than their psychological effect. When I had first been
forcibly transformed at the Ceder College, I had been both staggered and
entranced by my change of appearance. Clearly, I had been chosen for my
feminine features, for it had only taken some skilful makeup, depilation
and female clothing to make me look like a girl - and a pretty one at
that. But that was the point - I might look like a girl, but I didn't
feel like one. Not completely at any event.
I had certainly expected having breasts to make a difference - but not
the extent. Even in outfits that didn't show any cleavage, just those two
modest humps under my blouse or jumper seemed to complete my feminine
appearance in a way I could not have imagined. And more than that, I now
saw myself as a woman - not a crossdressed man.
And could there be anything more feminine than a bridal outfit? I took
one last look in the mirror and then with a sigh reached around behind me
for the zip (all those yoga classes had done wonders for my flexibility).
Soon enough I had slipped out of the dress, which I carefully hung up in
the wardrobe.
Tugging the pins out of my hair, which had been tied up in an elaborate
bob, I shook out my long black tresses, which tumbled down around my
shoulders. Now I stood topless before the mirror, admiring my firm and
perfectly crafted tits, their nipples tilted perkily upwards, just
begging for attention.
Without conscious volition, my hands crept up to cradle them, marvelling
yet again at how soft and pliant they felt. But it was not my own touch
they craved, but someone else's. Of course there had been that pretty
nurse at the clinic. And her twin sister. But that was just a bit of
experimentation ...
Just one more preparation. I tugged down my white satin panties and
stepped out of them, being careful not to snag them on my 6-inch
slingback heels. Now I stood there wearing only white silk stockings,
held up by a lacy white garterbelt. I was ready.
"Fuck the champagne," I called. "No, let me rephrase that ... it's me who
needs fucking!"
And I really did. It had been going on six months since I'd had a man's
cock. Sleeping with my landlord and giving him the occasional handjob
didn't really count, not when my own ardour had been both physically and
chemically restrained. But freed of those shackles, I'd endured three
months of abstinence at the post-op clinic as I recovered from the
surgery. And now I was so horny it hurt.
For most of my time at the Ceder College I'd assumed that I had somehow
been forced or tricked into liking the feel and taste of a man's
equipment. And maybe that was true - but it simply didn't matter. Just as
I'd come to accept my feminisation for the gift it truly was, so too I
was comfortable with my new sexuality. Whether my taste for both men and
women was something that had always been latent , or had been
artificially induced, who cared? As I saw it, my options had simply
doubled ...
My better half put his head round the bedroom door. His jaw dropped as he
stared at me. This was the first time he had seen my new body in its full
glory and it was clearly making as good an impression as I could have
hoped. "God Katy," he breathed, "you look ravishing!"
I shook my head irritably. "I don't want to be ravishing," I said, "I
want to be ravished, understand?" Grinning, he nodded and crossed the
floor to gather me in his powerful arms. We shared a lingering kiss,
before he leant back and drank in the sight of my naked torso. Almost
reverentially, he lowered his mouth to my left breast. His tongue worked
its way delicately around the areola and then flicked over the nipple,
which hardened instantly.
I moaned as his free hand found my other breast and caressed it, then
slipped down between my legs. The feelings were incredible, jolts of pure
pleasure flowing straight down to my groin. I was clawing at his clothes,
so much did I want to feel his big strong body against me. He got the
message and disengaged, his lust now as urgent as my own as he positively
tore off his garments.
His cock was already rock hard, and just as I remembered it. Ordinarily,
I would have played with it, teasing it with my fingers and cramming as
much of it as I could fit into my wet and willing mouth. But that would
come later. For now, this was the moment I had been dreaming about for
months, when our wedding would be consummated. There was only one place I
wanted my husband's manhood - and that was inside me.
Kissing him fiercely, I pressed my body hard up against his, every nerve
tingling as my nipples rubbed against the short, iron-grey hairs on his
chest and his rampant weapon pressed into my belly. Then I retreated to
the bed, pulling him with me. I kicked off my shoes and half-sat, half-
fell onto the mattress. Using my elbows,, I slid myself back until I was
fully on the bed, with my legs spread.
The man to whom I had pledged myself, not just for the next twelve
months, but until death did us part, took one last appraising look at my
naked form. The foreplay, brief as it had been , was over - and we both
knew it. The good sex would come later. For now, it was time to fuck and
be fucked.
He climbed up on the bed and lowered himself into position above me.
Spitting into his palm, he greased his cock and slipped first one and
then a second finger inside me. I gasped, and then did the same again as
the head of his thick shaft pressed against the entrance to my hungry
hole. I had been worried since my operation that he might not fit, but
some judicious use of a dildo - with a little help from that minx of a
nurse - had loosened me up sufficiently that I could accommodate his
impressive shaft.
As he pushed inside me I let out a sigh of both pleasure and relief.
Wrapping my leg and arms as tightly as I could around his powerful frame,
I held him in place for a few seconds while my lips sought his, moaning
as his tongue invaded my mouth and his cock filled me up.
And then hee was pulling out and driving back in, rapidly picking up
speed as I stopped kissing him and instead looked up into his face. "Fuck
me," I panted, "fuck me harder, that's it, oh god, yes, right there ...
You're so big, so deep ... Fu-uuuuck, oh that feels so good, don't stop,
don't stop .."
His eyes never left mine as he pounded me, ignoring the complaining
squeaks of the mattress, my squeals and urgings, my long painted
fingernails raking his back, everything except my gaze. It took an effort
of will not to close my eyes, but I wanted to see my husband - my
husband! - as he took me for the first time in our married life, and for
him to see what it meant to me.
And now his thrusts were becoming even harder and deeper, if that were
possible. My clitty was inflamed, and if I touched it I would come right
away, but I wanted to hold off, just a few seconds more ...
And now his eyes were rolling back in his head and I knew his climax was
very near. With a wild yell I came myself, cream erupting as my orgasm
washed over me, subsiding just in time for me to register that my man was
coming too, shooting torrents of spunk deep inside me, his face and body
contorting as he claimed me for his own ...
For a moment we lay still, savouring the ecstasy of release and the
feeling of being conjoined. And then he kissed me deeply and I kissed him
back, until with a groan he slipped out of me, pivoted and lay down
heavily on the bed beside me, still panting with exertion.
"Oh my god," he said "my heart's not going to last if the sex is always
going to be that intense ... But what a way to go, eh?" He grinned and
looked sideways at me. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"Well of course I am, I married you, didn't I?" Reaching down between my
legs, I slipped a finger inside my hole, which was still gaping from the
fleshy intruder that had so thoroughly opened it up. When I retracted the
digit, it glistened with my husband's spunk. Thoughtfully, I trailed my
finger through the film of cum that coated my rapidly shrinking clitty (I
never thought of it as a cock these days, just as I no longer stood up to
pee). Popping the finger in my mouth, I sucked it reflectively.
"What on earth are you doing, Katy?" came the amused question from the
figure beside me. "I'm just seeing what we taste like together," I
replied. "If that's okay with you, Mr Stokes?"
"Of course it is, Mrs Stokes," said Graeme, his smile widening. "You know
I can't refuse you anything."
I gave a mock frown. "I'm not sure that's written into our contract with
Master Antony, you know." Then I giggled. "But I'm perfectly happy to
proceed on that basis. And I like you calling me Mrs Stokes, by the way,
you can do that as often as you like! And that's not the only thing you
can keep doing either ..."
That prompted another extended bout of kissing. Afterwards, as we both
cleaned up and prepared for bed, me slipping into a baby doll nightie
that I knew was Graeme's favourite, he looked over at me and smiled
ruefully. "Mr and Mrs Stokes, can you believe it? Bet you could never
have imagined us getting married when I was your landlord, eh?"
I laughed. "Well, certainly not when I was Martin Riley!" A thought
struck me. "Here, you didn't fancy me as a man, did you? It's okay if you
did," I hastened to add, "I'm just curious."
Graeme shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean, I always liked you, and
maybe I was more attracted than I realised at the time ... but it was
only after you were Katy that I began fantasising about you."
"Why Mr Stokes," I cried in mock outrage, "did you used to jerk off
thinking about me? You dirty pervert!"
"Of course I did," he admitted without a trace of embarrassment. "I had
eyes, didn't I? You were so pretty then - though not as beautiful as you
are now." He grinned as I jiggled my tits at him. "Anyway, when you used
to come around each week and tug me off yourself, it was like all my
Christmases came at once. And then when you moved in and we were sharing
a bed ... But I have to admit, that quickly became pretty frustrating.
Even after our sex life, ah, expanded a bit, I still wanted more."
"Yeah, I think I did too," I said, "though it took me a long time to
realise that I wasn't just grateful for your taking me in. Especially
with everything I was getting up to at the College. And then I thought I
might have lost you forever - twice in one day. First I have to say
goodbye to you, wondering if you'll be around by the time I've finished
my commitments to the College. Then you turn up at the auction, out of
the blue, saying you'll bid for me ... and you last about two minutes
before the price gets too high!"
"I didn't stand a chance, did I?" said Graeme with a rueful laugh. "I
couldn't believe how much money was in that room - and what they were
prepared to pay for you! And when Antony casually announced that he'd
triple the next highest bid ... well, I was sure that was it."
"So did I," I said, wandering over to the ice bucket and pouring out two
glasses of French champagne. I handed one glass to Graeme and took the
other to the window, where I sipped it reflectively as I looked out at
the harbour. The lights twinkled on the calm waters and for a minute I
thought of going out on the balcony into the warm summer air - then
decided my nightdress might be a little on the skimpy side for public
exposure.
Graeme joined me and slipped an arm around me as we took in the
magnificent view. We stood there for a few minutes in companionable
silence. I was sure that, like me, he was replaying in his mind the
amazing aftermath to the auction.
As I stood on the stage after the hammer fell, the hall abuzz as the
guests discussed what happened, I was wrestling with the decision of
whether to live with Antony for a year, or to work as a call girl for
five that times long - and wondering if I would have the chance to see
Graeme again to say goodbye.
I was also second guessing one of the two decisions I had already made. I
felt entirely comfortable with my choice to have breasts added, having
seen an illustration (which mercifully proved to be accurate) of how they
might look on me. But I was not sure about refusing a set of female
genitals - though I reasoned that I would recover a lot more easily from
just one operation. Plus I could always have the procedure done later if
I changed my mind ...
(It was only afterwards, when I checked the envelope I had been given
during the graduation ceremony, that I found not just a certificate for
the completion of my "training," but instructions for the breast
operation - with no mention of any other procedure. Clearly the College
knew me better than I knew myself ... )
At any event, with so much swirling around in my head, I was paying
little attention as I was taken offstage to a meeting room. There waiting
for me, predictably enough, was Antony, along with Gordon and Kristin
Everett, the siblings who ran the College and who had blackmailed me into
becoming Katy. But I had not expected Graeme to be present - and judging
by his bemused expression, he was as much in the dark as I was.
It was Gordon who explained. Antony, he said, had a "rather unusual"
proposition to put. His taut expression hinted at disapproval. But his
deferential manner also suggested that Antony's money and influence would
brook no interference.
Antony took over at this point. "Katy, Graeme - I have a suggestion to
make that I trust you will find agreeable. I have cleared this with the
principals." He inclined his head towards the Everett, his thin smile
suggesting that their cooperation had been expected, not asked. "But the
two of you will also need to give your consent."
He leaned back in his chair, displaying the easy air and calm authority
that I had experienced during my torrid night at his mansion. In his
well-modulated voice, at once relaxed and compelling, he continued: "So
here is the deal. I will waive any requirement for you, Katy, to come and
live with me. And the College will also renounce any claim over you,
after you have had your operation. But there are three conditions."
He held up his fingers as he ticked them off, his dark eyes boring into
me as he spoke. "One, you marry Mr Stokes here. Two, you allow me to pay
for the wedding and a honeymoon." Graeme and I exchanged incredulous
glances at this. But there was more to come.
"Three, you make yourself available to me four times a year, until I
release you. This will involve spending a weekend with me, during which
you will be my companion - and anything else I require you to be." He
gave a broad smile. "So you see, this is not an entirely altruistic
arrangement ... and I certainly intend to sample your augmented charms,
whether you are married or not." He gestured expansively. "But there, I
have had my say. Do you want some time to discuss the proposal?"
I would have said yes on the spot, so much was my heart singing with
unexpected joy at this point. But as it was, Graeme and I took little
time to agree. He and Antony would sort out the details while I was off
having my boob job. The look on Miss Everett's face was priceless, like a
cat cheated of a mouse. But the consolation was that she and her brother
would be paid a sum that well and truly recouped their investment in me.
And so here we found ourselves, the most unlikely of married couples -
though this was the first time we had actually been alone together since
the morning I left to go to the auction. I had gone straight off to the
clinic, as planned, and the wedding had been set for the first weekend
after my release. While I had been allowed a few phone conversations with
my fianc? during my recuperation, we had agreed it would be more romantic
to stay apart until the actual ceremony.
"I wonder why Antony would possibly have agreed to this arrangement?"
mused Graeme. "It still seems ... incredible."
"It does indeed," I replied, shrugging, "but all I can think is that it
... amused him. I mean, he clearly had the hots for me, but I suspect he
wasn't that interested in having me around the whole time. And it seems
pretty obvious that whatever he wants, he gets - so why bother with a
wife, or even a live-in slave? He was definitely interested in you
though, or rather us - I can recall him asking a lot of questions about
our relationship. He clearly had a much better idea about how I felt than
I did." I shook my head mournfully. "That seems to happen to me a lot
..."
I took Graeme's empty glass and went to refill it. "As it is, he gets to
play with me on a regular basis - in fact, potentially for a lot longer
than the original contract would have demanded ... though I imagine he'll
get bored with me at some stage." I shot my husband a sharp look over my
shoulder as I poured the champagne. "You're sure you don't mind me going
off with him?"
"Of course not," came the prompt reply. "Look, I just feel so lucky to
have anything of you at all - especially after it seemed maybe I wouldn't
see you again, ever. Besides, I want you to be happy - and I get the
feeling you like the idea of seeing him again."
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't," I admitted, handing Graeme his drink.
"Being with him definitely has its, um, attractions." I thought it better
at this point not to go into details about what those attractions might
be, given that one of them was the size of Antony's cock, which was every
bit as thick as my husband's, but much longer. Not to mention those yummy
servants of his ...
"But I am a little worried about what he might do when he gets his hands
on me," I added. "I'm not sure that I told you, but when I saw him before
the auction he told me to get the biggest tits I could. He didn't say
anything afterwards, but I have a feeling that there might be some
payback for choosing B-cups ... I'm pretty sure he wouldn't hurt me
though - well, not permanently at any rate."
Graeme put his arm around me and gave my shoulder a squeeze. "He'd better
not mistreat you, or he'll have me to answer to," he said fiercely. "And
I don't care how rich and powerful he is ... Besides, you made the
perfect choice of boob size. They look fantastic on you." As he said this
his hand reached down and lightly caressed my right breast through the
thin, transparent material of the baby doll.
"But anyway, whether it's him or someone else, you should feel free to
play with anyone you like. I'm not going to be the jealous type, I assure
you. Same goes if you want to go back and work at that club. I know you
were saying at the reception that you wanted to earn some money, so ..."
I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "I've said it before and I'll
say it again - I don't deserve you. I'll certainly have a think about
work, though it won't be at Club Angel. I mean, I ended up quite enjoying
my time there, but the Everetts have already made way more money out of
me than they deserve - even though I have them to thank for, well, all
this."
I gestured at my body, thinking once again of how fortunate I was that
the most dire and depressing of situations had turned out the way it had.
Then I noticed the troubled expression on Graeme's face. "What's up,
darling?," I asked.
He opened his mouth to say something, stopped, then threw his hands in
the air in a helpless gesture. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't feel so
insecure, but it's just, well, I don't understand why someone as young
and beautiful as you would want to sleep with me, let alone marry me. I
mean, look at me! I'm old, I'm overweight ... and you could have Antony,
or just about anyone else you -"
He broke off as I kissed him full on the lips. "Don't talk that way," I
said. I cupped his cheeks in both hands, gazing up at him, smiling. "It
might seem strange to other people, even to you - but it doesn't to me.
You were the first one who really treated me as a woman, you know, not
just a model, or a sex toy. So, okay, you fancied me as well, but you
treated me so kindly, looked after me ... loved me."
I took a deep breath. "And I know it's taken me way too long to say this,
but ... I love you Graeme Stokes, I really do."
There was silence for a few seconds and then he was kissing me, deeply
and passionately. And I was returning his kisses with interest, pressing
my body against his, feeling so comfortable and safe in his embrace.
Until I felt the lump pressing against me ...
I giggled. "Seems like something's woken up again - shall I just check to
make sure it's still working okay?" Sinking to my knees, I opened his
gown and reached into the boxer shorts underneath. His cock was already
hard as I pulled it out, but it seemed to grow again as I wrapped my
painted lips around it. As Graeme moaned and reached down to fondle my
breasts, I felt my clitty come to life once more ...
************************
EPILOGUE
I closed the door behind me, savouring the air-conditioning after the
heat of the Florida sun. "Hi sweetie," called Graeme from the kitchen.
"How did it go?"
"Fine," I replied, "but my jaw is aching. I mean, we must have been doing
40 or 50 an hour ... and my feet are killing me, especially in these
shoes." I kicked off the offending footwear, then unzipped the long,
iridescent green skirt. "It just feels so weird having only one-inch
heels, when I've become so used to them being much higher." I wandered
into the bedroom, unclipping the bright purple bikini top that was the
only item I wore on my upper body.
"It's that height policy, isn't it?" said Graeme, coming through the door
and, as he so often did, smiling as he took in the sight of my naked
body. "Yup," I said, carefully removing the long red wig and putting it
away in a drawer. "I'm a little taller than most of the girls they
employ, and they don't want Ariel looming too much over the kiddies." I
massaged my face. "It's a fun job, but I tell you what, all that smiling
at the photo sessions really takes it out of you ..."
"Well, it's your own fault, Katy," noted my husband, "you shouldn't have
won that 'Princess for a Day' competition when we were here on our
honeymoon - and you didn't have to accept their job offer, either."
"True," I conceded, "but you didn't put up much of a fight - especially
after Antony said we could use this apartment. Just as well, given how
little money I'm making - though there are other benefits ... Speaking of
which, Belle says that she and Gaston are up for a three way tonight.
Don't suppose you want to make it a foursome?"
Graeme smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm never comfortable with other
guys, you know that ... Besides, I still haven't recovered from that
night with Ana and Elsa." His brow furrowed. "Does, er, Gaston know about
your little surprise?" He waved a hand to indicate my clitty, which I was
tucking away into my knickers.
"Don't think so," I answered brightly, "but Belle and I have decided he
needs to have his horizons broadened a little ... Now, be a dear and go
and fetch me a cold drink, please, I'm parched after all that chit-chat."
As my husband lumbered off to comply I sat down at the dressing table and
began to remove my working makeup. For the umpteenth time I marvelled at
the pretty and sexy young woman staring back at me from the mirror.
It was becoming hard now to remember the nervous and ineffective young
man who had gone into the Ceder College in search of a new career. What
might he have said, I wondered, if he'd been told that he would find it -
not as the teacher he wanted to be, but as a stripper, then an escort,
and now (of all things!) a Disney princess?
I grinned. If he had any sense, he'd have welcomed it with open arms.
Putting down the cleanser, I stood up and went over to the lingerie
drawer. Now, what to wear for tonight? Hot red perhaps, or virginal
white? Or something slinky in black lace? Decisions, decisions ...
THE END
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