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"Go back into the bathroom," she demanded, "I told you to shave." "But I did," I protested meekly as I could (best not brave being too forceful), "I shaved my legs and armpits like you asked. Even my chest. I'm hairless I promise." She stood up from the bed. Had I angered her? Her six-inch stilettos clicked on the tile as she walked across the floor. Extending a long red painted nail, she prodded me in my pubic hair right above my penis. "This is unruly. It's like a 1970s hippie girl. I want a nice triangular trimmed bikini shave. You will not embarrass me by having that ... that ... jungle peeking out of your panties little girl. Do you understand?" I scurried back into the giant marble bathroom. Like everything in this multi-floored residence, a true testament to towering wealth, it was spacious and elaborately adorned. I slipped back into the massive sunken tub; just happy the water was still warm. Taking a pair of scissors, I trimmed my pubic hairs into short barely eighth of an inch length. With shaving cream applied and razor in hand, I shaved a small V shaped patch starting at the base of my penis to right below where my bikini line separated the pale of my skin from the tan line above. I looked at the marked difference in color; time by the pool in string bikinis had also given me bathing suit tan lines on my chest. I liked the way it looked. Satisfied she would be, I reentered the bedroom. By this point in our relationship, I knew which words would please. "May I be pretty now?" "Yes, yes," she said impatiently, "and hurry. You need to be dressed before my guests arrive." I looked to see what she had laid out for me this time. I took the garb off the bed and headed into the bathroom to fix myself up. I wriggled into the corset, it already tight as is, but every good female creation must begin with an hourglass shape. Pulling the strings, the metal bands which ran both vertically and horizontally tightened, like a children's Chinese finger trap, far past what the average person could withstand. Long accustomed to corset training, my body retained the ability to conform to waist sizes several inches smaller than its natural form with some ease, so constricting my body this radically this was no longer an issue. Tucking my penis tightly between my legs, I slid the black lace transparent panties onto my soft bottom. Taking great care with the stay up stockings, I pushed my sleek slender legs into each, taking care that the back seem was perfectly straight. I fastened my lightly padded bra, and worked my way into the vinyl mini skirt, finishing off the outfit with a black silk top. I held up my heels and examined them: five and half inches. They were high, but should be a comfortable, manageable height. Good. She hated when I wobbled in heels as I sometimes did in those higher than six; and that was unacceptable as I wished deeply to avoid bringing shame upon her in front of her guests. I slid my nylon encased black nail polished toes into the sling backs and walked and spun around to make sure the heels were easy to move in. A little time in front of the makeup mirror, topped off by my shoulder blade length blonde wig, earrings and jewelry, and I was, if I had to say so myself, quite attractive. Everyone will want me. And that will please her. ++++++ The IT department set up an ingenious search program that audibly pinged my computer any time my name appeared on the web. And with a name like Xavier Spencer, there were very few false positives. That is how I knew the shoe had finally dropped as my speakers began ringing nonstop with alerts. I grimaced. What did I expect? It was always just a matter of time. One can only juggle so many balls before one falls .... "Jesus Christ, it's happening. I'm screwed. More than screwed, I'm fucking broke to boot." My longtime friend Jeff Finn laughed. He had been lounging around in my office for the last twenty minutes while I wrapped up some matters before we hit the links. "Broke? That's funny. You're down to what, three houses and ten cars now? I mean if you sold the furniture in this glass and steel airplane hangar sized office, that would be to be enough cash to buy my life three times over." Jeff was seated in a chair in front of my desk, half distractedly scrolling on his phone as he spoke. He was an engineer by trade; corporate intrigue didn't interest him in the slightest. Nor did current events. It's what made him so refreshing, around him I could escape thinking about the office and just relax. "No, really. I'm completely fucking broke. America's youngest large company CEO, completely destitute. And I'll be lucky to stay out of jail." I spun both monitors on my desk toward him so he could clearly see. On one desktop screen were the days financials, the New York Times filled the screen of the other. "That headline is that ...?" he asked with disbelief. "It is. Now the entire world is clutching their pearls and wringing their hands over all the people I supposedly hurt. Look, you have your phone. Check it yourself: Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, Los Angeles Times, Chicago Tribune. They're all reporting it in real time. I'm fucked Jeff. No one survives this. Amazon or Microsoft couldn't survive this. I'm done. The company's probably done. I need to sell off what personal assets I can before they are all seized. I'm probably too late at that, if it leaked to the all papers the wheels of justice are probably already set in motion. Not to mention I guarantee there is an emergency board meeting right now to remove me. I'm so toast. Completely fucking roasted." I pushed the button on my desk phone to call in my secretary Magarey. I'm a smart guy. I may still have one or two moves left. After four or five rings - that was not like Magarey - she finally picked up. "I'm sorry Mr. Spencer." Her voice quivered, had she been crying? "They just took my computer. I'm being escorted out by building security. I can't talk, I'm so sorry." Every employee deemed loyal to me, every person that I brought on personally, hell, every person who golfed with me or ate dinner at my house, was likely in the same boat as Magarey; company cell phones taken, computers removed, then frog marched out the door by security. This was well and truly a shitshow. +++++++ I came out the bathroom in my women's attire. Perched high on my sling backs, I knew I looked cute. I looked at her eagerly hoping she would tell so. She just looked me over and seemed not too displeased. Maybe she would reward me for being such a cute little doll? She was! She slipped her bare foot out of her black patent leather stiletto pumps, and nodded her head giving permission. I kneeled before her, taking her foot in both hands. I needed to not rush this and take my time. Who knows when she would reward me again? Oh, but her lovely toes, that shiny red polish. I ran my tongue across the arch of her foot, before taking her big toe in my mouth and sucking it gently; then another toe, and another, until her entire foot was in my mouth. I was proud. She could shove nearly her entire foot all the way down my throat, to where my cheeks nearly burst from the size of it, and I wouldn't gag one bit. She worked her foot in and out of my mouth, deeply foot fucking my throat, until she deemed I had enough. Taking her wet toes out of my mouth and away from my hungry licking tongue, she ran her perfectly pedicured foot between my legs, rubbing my lace panty tucked cock up and down twice. The joy! Such a huge and rare reward. She really must be pleased after all. I leapt up and ran to the bathroom, the sound of my clacking heels filled the room. Quickly grabbing a towel, I rushed back and dried her foot carefully, lovingly. I needed her to truly know how much I appreciated the gift she just gave me. The guests filed in over the next few hours. I was so happy for her. It was, even by her standards, a large party. There were at least twenty d'oeuvres tables set up and two full bars. A swirl of servants with trays flowed through the room making sure no one was without food or drink. I took my position by the larger of the two bars nearest to the restroom where, even in a ballroom of this size, everyone would eventually see me. It was very important to her that people saw me in my tight vinyl mini skirt with my tanned skin peeking above the stocking. My slightly padded bra gave an illusion of tiny breasts and accentuated my slender hourglass figure, giving me an appearance of youth far younger than my twenty-five years. My long blonde wig was the best money could buy and it framed my flawlessly made up face and thick pouty red lips perfectly. From time to time she would wander over, a man's arm around her waist as she got another drink. On each occasion I wondered which of these men would be the one she slept with. She always slept with someone. "What do you think?" she would ask the men she brought by, "she's a pretty little panty girl, isn't she? I mean just look ... her little tiny dick wedged between her beautiful legs ... her nice hair, round ass ... oh and the inside of that round pert ass too, so tight, so completely to die for." She slapped my ass hard for emphasis. I could feel myself blushing with joy. Such attention she pays to me! I gave all the men my most appealing, most winning smile. If I was lucky, very lucky, and obedient ... and I didn't embarrass her of course... maybe she would let one of the handsome ones play with me when she tired of them. The joy of one of them inside me as she looks on approvingly ... One of the guys she brought buy, a large muscular man who must live in the gym every waking moment, ran his hand across my cheek. He liked me. I could see his bulge through his tight leather pants. But I dare not touch it without permission, even if he wanted me to. He turned to her and said, "Your parties are wild, you know that? There's really nothing like them. Where did you find your ... panty girl you called her?" "'Panty girl'. 'Sissy'. 'Slut'. 'Whore.' 'Willing hole'. 'Ass Slave.' 'Trap'. Whatever I feel like calling her on the day, really. Labels aren't important. But what is, is that she's my little unique project. Not everyone gets to play with her. But if you're nice enough to me ...." He laughed, the entire situation amused him to no end, I could tell. "Holy smoke ... 'Whore' ... 'Ass Slave' .... god you're as kinky as I've heard." I just smiled and felt a delight fill me inside. I loved when she talked about me to others. It made me feel special. ++++++++ Jeff was now going from site to site on his phone in a rapid manner. "You weren't kidding dude. You are completely screwed. Have you seen the hatchet job CNN is doing on you? Probably better if you don't. One of the shouting heads actually used the name 'Joseph Stalin'." I picked up the phone and called Morton Harris, my attorney. I spent all this money retaining one of the best law firms in the city, it is time they delivered, "I've been expecting this," Morton said by way of greeting, "I'm surprised it took you this long. Where are you?" "In my office weathering the storm," I told him. He laughed coldly and in his thick Boston accent he continued, "Your office? I suspect that won't be true for much longer. Listen, if I weren't your attorney. If I were able to give advice that wasn't legal, which I am not doing here, nor do I condone in any fashion, just so we are clear ... I would say grab your passport and find a country without an extradition treaty. Algeria is nice and warm, but so is Madagascar, and it has nice beaches. Whatever few dollars you will be able to hold on to would go a long way in the Ivory Coast. Not that you should consider taking an Uber to the airport right now before the court system shuts down your passport and accounts, because, as I said, as your attorney, I can't recommend a client run. Good luck Xavier." That's the legal advice I'm getting? Run for my life? If I thought I was toast before, I knew without a shade of doubt I was right now. +++++++++ Just after midnight she signaled to me. The party was just ramping up, but she had plucked someone from the crowd a bit early this night. A tall lean man, muscular in the way a competitive runner or swimmer was, was being led by her up the spiral staircase into the living area. As is the custom, I trailed behind them as close to twenty steps as I could manage (I dare not walk any closer, their conversations were their own) as they wound through the labyrinth of hallways which made up the bedroom area. The infrequent groans of pleasure from guests who had found one of the many empty bedrooms, sporadically pierced the silence. It made my tucked penis tingle in concert. With a key she opened the room she used for such occasions. She never took men to the room where she slept, only she entered the privacy of her master bedroom, even I who serve her hand and foot have yet to see the inside. She left the door open for me to enter, and I slipped in, closing it behind me and stood in the corner silently. "What is ...she ...?" "Yes, that pretty little thing is a 'she' in all but plumbing now. Just look at her. I made her myself. She may not have breasts, but she's as slender and shapely as teen," was the answer given to the man's question. Was that pride I heard in her voice? I tried not to let my face redden with glee and instead held very still. I had behaved well all night. I was too close to a reward to blow it all now. The man laughed. "That's kinky as fuck." "So I've been told. Tonight even. But you just wait ..." She removed her shirt, then his, kissing him deeply, her tongue searching his mouth. She turned him around, breasts pressed against his back and unbuckle his pants, letting them fall to the floor. She looked over at me, and asked, "Well, what are you waiting for?" I almost squealed. Now? This early? She had barely touched him herself. I wasn't sure what I had done to deserve such benevolence, but I was determined to take full advantage to honor this moment. I kneeled before him, my butt on my feet, locking his eyes with my most coquettishly subservient look. I put a hand on each achilles and slid them slowly up his legs and underneath his underwear until I was gripping both butt cheeks, slightly digging my long nails into his behind. I ran my smooth, made up face, on the outside of his underwear as his bulge stiffened. With my ruby red lips, I pushed against his penis, with only the thin layer of cotton between us. With the flair of a magician doing the tablecloth trick, I suddenly pulled his underwear down all the way to his ankles. Was that too showy? I quickly looked at her face, her cheek pressed against his so she could see everything. No, her half smile was still there as she continued to run her hands across his chest, playing with his nipples. Were we seducing him together? She usually just threw men at me when she tired of playing or needed someone to get them hard again between sessions. But never anything like this. What have I done differently today to deserve such love from her? Kissing his stiffened cock gently, I massaged his balls with my fingers lightly as I began running my tongue in a circular motion around his head. Pulling it down toward my face, my eyes never leaving his, I plunged his cock into my mouth, pressing my lips firmly against his engorged shaft. She reached around him grabbing my head, and pushing it back and forth, slammed my lips all the way into his pubic hair repeatedly as I took his long cock all the way into my willing throat. His hips moved back and forth, as did hers behind him as though she was mouthing fucking me through him. His body stiffened and he rose to his toes. Oh no! Oh god! She didn't give me permission to make him cum. This is bad, very bad! But she thrust her pelvis into his ass moving his cock deeper into me while shoving my head as hard as she could against him. He exploded in massive salty waves. My mouth overflowed with his sticky sperm. "Now kiss him,? she said. I stood up and put my sperm dripping lips onto his, pushing my tongue inside, sharing his fluid with him, sperm spilling from each of our mouths. She smiled as she dismissed me. ?You?ve been a very good little slut tonight. Now go clean up and take your position back at the bar.? My heart missed a beat. She said, ?a very good little slut?, she actually used the words ?very good?; it was all I could do not to skip out of the room. ++++++++ With a quick almost imperceptible glance at the security black camera globe, the teller looked at me, then my account showing on her screen, then back at me. ?Mr. Spencer, that?s an awful lot of money, an awful lot.? Jeff who had been tagging along, I guess for moral support at this point, or maybe just to see how it all played out said, ?I told you so Spence. Too much money. Banks are electronic now. Money isn?t money, it is ones and zeros floating out there somewhere,? he waved his hand to indicate some unknown place in the ether, ?They may not even have the cold cash to cover that.? The teller gestured to an office in the corner of the cavernous bank building. She was nervous. ?Please, let?s go see the manager, maybe we can work something out.? I walked into the office and the teller quickly spun on her heels and left. Someone closed the door behind me. The bank manager looked both apologetic and deeply uncomfortable. ?Jeff Chambers there is no need for you to be here. You may leave now,? said one of the voices behind me. Jeff, sensing exactly what was happening, looked at me and said, ?Hang in there dude? before taking his leave. Standing by the door were two men in what they probably believed were nice suits. Before I could say a word, they produce two badges, ?Figured you would come here after we froze your credit cards,? said the taller man of the two. ?FBI. If you are cooperative, we will not cuff you and embarrass you in this bank. We?re all gentlemen here and we can leave here like gentlemen. Do you understand?? I did, ?Yes.? ?Okay then. Xavier Spencer, you are under arrest for the following charges ...? +++++++ I was in bed thinking about what happened tonight, rubbing myself furiously over the soft lace panties. Even though I was completely alone, I felt guilty allowing myself to shoot sperm onto my midriff without her permission. But I know what happened, I wasn?t crazy. She let me touch him at the same time as her. Not just at the same time, we shared. And she didn?t yell at me in front of him, or encourage him to humiliate me ? not that I don?t deserve it, I do stupid things to embarrass her sometimes like let my stocking seem get a little crooked, or make tiny unpleasant noises when a man enters me too rough. But tonight, it was different. And she said I was a very good little slut. ?Very good? were her words! I needed to close my eyes and get to sleep. If I show up the morning looking tired ... then she may regret trusting me to accept her love. I woke up early and got ready. Her parties were renowned not just because they had lots of food and drink, interesting activities and kink toys like me, it?s because they stretched the entire weekend. In a house this enormous, guests would find a room at the end of the night and collapse. The next morning, Saturday morning, the all-day pool party began. Oh no! My eyes were a little red from lack of sleep. I can?t worry about that now, I needed to get down poolside and start handing out towels to guests as they arrive. Thong bikinis were tough. My penis had to be jammed between my legs, and if I did it wrong, my dick could come flopping out. If wobbling on heels or making a choke sound while taking a cock down my throat was a crime, my penis flopping for all the world poolside was a capital one. It was cheating, and I?m not supposed to cheat, but I snuck out a role of duct tape and taped my penis into a tight aching little ball. I can never remember her offering me to a man at the pool, so I was probably safe; she all but said so herself, ?You?re pretty in the day, and you?re sport at night.? So I just needed to be pretty. ++++++ Prison was not what I expected. I had only seen it in the movies, and likely, showing a prison like this one would only anger people. But I should have known, folks with lots of money, or in my case, used to have lots of money, lead very different lives. On the inside this held true as well. It was tiny, granted, but my cell was well equipped with a bookcase, rug, Lazy-Boy chair, small fridge and a heating plate. But my cell was no different than any other cell on this wing of this country club like prison. There were downsides. The golf clubs were, insulting, made of plastic, as real ones were weapons and all, but at least I could practice putting. The guard for this block handed me fresh eggs and vegetables for my Sunday omelet prep tomorrow. ?You have a visitor,? he informed me. I entered the visitor?s area and sat down picking up the phone. The woman who sat in front of me in her low-cut business suit and tight scoop blouse - showing all her assets - and impractically high heels, picked up the phone on her side. ?Do you know who I am?? she said. I laughed a genuine laugh emanating from my gut. ?Is there anyone who doesn?t know who you are? That?s the real question.? I may have been amused, but she certainly was not, and for good reason, of course. ?Good introductions bore me.? ?What can I do for you?? Whatever this was, it wasn?t a social visit. May as well cut to the chase. She leaned in so she could look me in the eye through the thick glass. ?I can fix your problem. Get you out of jail. Return you to a position running a company ... eventually.? ?Of course you can. You?re the only one who can. The law says you ... well your corporation .... as well as you personally ... are the primary wronged parties in this little misunderstanding that landed me here. You don?t cooperate with the feds, drop charges or whatever, and this all goes away.? I leaned back in my chair, suspicious, ?The question isn?t ?if? you can make it go away, the question is ?why?. I heard the shock of it all was too much for your father, I imagine you think that blood is on my hands too,? Realizing what I just said, I dialed back usual my aggressive manner. No matters how irritated I was to be behind bars, she had just lost her father. Changing tact, I said, ?I?m really sorry about that. He may have been a competitor, but I always respected him. He was a pioneer.? She said nothing. There was a long silence, before I spoke again, ?To be honest, with all that has happened, if I were in your high heel shoes, I would bury me and never look back. I get it.? ?It?s funny that you say, ?high heel shoes?.? +++++++ I stood by the lifeguard stand in my best bright yellow thong bikini and yellow flowered wedges with the steep foot slope, arching my feet as high and well as any six-inch heels would do. I had even taken the time to complete redo all my nails to apply a matching shiny yellow coat. The only downside were the bikini top cups covered slightly less than my usual two- piece, so my tan line looked a bit uneven against this suit. But I really wanted to look special after last night. I think it looks fine, but I just hope my tan lines don?t displease her. It was a huge gamble. She came down late, nearly elven o?clock. I wondered if she had found another man later or was just entertaining her guests. She moved directly toward me. Her sense of purpose made me nervous. I tried to pull it together, but I could tell I did something wrong. It was my tan lines. I know it. I wanted to burst into tears. ?Put the towels down,? she told me. "Get a glass of water, and just relax by the pool. Let the boys see you.? ?But you never let the men have me at the pool. Too public you always say.? ?I?m not. I just want you to lie there, relax, that?s all.? ?I don?t ... I don?t understand. Have I done something wrong? Why, why aren?t you letting me please your guests? I?ve not missed anyone handing out the towels, I?ve even fetched drinks for them from the bar. I thought of that myself ...? Oh god, I was going to cry. ?No, no. I want you to lie by the pool and look pretty. Give all the men alluring looks. Maybe, if want to feel helpful, many will need sunscreen on their back. You can do that. But I just want you to relax.? I moved to one of the loungers. Lying on it, I made sure to bend one leg up so all the men could see my shapely legs and sexy wedge heels. I smiled as I was told. But I was afraid and confused. Why would she want me to relax? Why wasn?t I serving her and others. Did she not need me anymore? I breathed in deeply as not to panic. ++++++ I laughed into the prison visitor?s phone out loud. ?Forty-five years in here ... if I?m lucky ... or a year and a half playing your kink games? You are a wild one. I had heard that about you, but Jesus Christ this takes the cake. And no physical harm to me you say? And ... let me get this straight ... you?ll put me at the helm of one of your companies when this is all over?? There?s a catch, there?s always a catch. I needed this to be iron clad. ?You should want to put a bullet in me in all honesty, but instead you?re offering to give me my life back? I?m not sure what this is, but I will need it in writing. Lady, this isn?t even a choice. You could strap a fucking dildo to my head and perch me on the White House lawn surrounded by paparazzi and loved ones and I wouldn?t blink. Not for this reward. Not to get out of here. I?m made of pretty stern stuff. I didn?t get to be one of the youngest large company CEOs by being some weakling. I don?t break and I don?t beg.? ?Don?t break and don?t beg? We will see, we will see.? ++++++ I was warm and sleepy. I had been out in the sun, mostly under an umbrella all day. When the party broke up in the afternoon I wasn?t even asked to clean. Despite myself I drifted off only to open my eyes in a panic to find her standing above me. I froze with fear. Had she been signaling to me and I missed it because I stupidly let myself fall asleep? Had some guest?s needs gone unattended? My entire body was rigid with anxiety. She sat down on the cot beside me. I was paralyzed. ?You?ve been a good little panty girl lately. You have barely embarrassed me, and you performed your whore slut duties passably.? I said nothing. I was happy, no question, but also wary and deeply confused. This was effusive and open praise. I didn?t understand what was happening or why she was speaking this way. She put her hand on my tiny padded bikini top. ?People think you?re cute,? I blushed as she said this. ?But I want ?sexy?. I find it troubling and humiliating that people sometimes call you ?panty-boy? or ?sissy-boy?. I hate the ?boy? part.? ?I never want to embarrass you,? I was careful not to repeat her odd choice of ?humiliate.? Yes, I could embarrass her, I did it all the time despite trying my best. And she rightly withheld her love or punished me. But an insignificant after thought like me was nowhere near important enough to inflict ?humiliation?. With the hand she placed on my chest, she squeezed my padded cup against my flat chest. ?This is no longer enough. Therefore, I?m going to give you a gift. The body of woman. Breasts, hips, nose, lips, butt, cheeks everything. Everything but a vagina, of course. You may be a good little panty-slut, but vaginas are reserved for real women like me. You will never be good enough to have one.? I didn?t care. This was the most fantastic gift in the world. Not being able to help myself tears poured over my face freely, as my entire body shook with uncontrollable joy. No one in my life has ever shown me such unconditional love. My makeup was surely running. She, amazingly, did not seemed displeased. I gave her a wordless begging look. At this greatest moment of my life, I didn?t want to let her down by being a streaky mess. She nodded, understanding, and I dashed off as quickly as my high wedge heels would allow to put my face back on. +++++++++ I had no idea how long I?d been here. Days? Weeks? Months? There was no sun, and only the briefest bit of light when someone brought me my meals of water and a tasteless paste that seemed to be just enough to keep me alive. A low pang of hunger constantly gnawed at me, leaving me lightheaded. I was tired and sleepless, disoriented. Every hour a claxon sounded, interrupting what tiny bit of sleep I could muster. I had traded one prison for one that was far worse. My sluggish mind could barely remember why. I had trouble remember much of anything for that matter, my mental energy was focused on battling fatigue and hunger; and, most of all, keeping my mind sane in the blackness of deprivation. A battle I felt like I was losing. The lights suddenly switched on. I held my hand in front of my eyes, even this low wattage bulb burned eyes that had rarely seen light. A woman, dressed in an all-black dress, with patent leather shiny black pumps, and black hose, stood in the doorway. My foggy mind fought for recognition. ?You?re -? ?Stop!? Her voice was as forceful as tornado and felt just as destructive. ?You will not say my name. You will not think it. And you will never say or think your name as you no longer have one. I have a way of knowing what crosses people?s mind, so do not test me.? She threw some clothes at me: a pair of heeled black sandals, a bra and panties. ?Get out of those clothes and put these on. If you can walk in those heels as far as the end of the hall, you will find a shower and a razor. If you can then make it down another four hundred yards down the path to the small blue building, you will find food waiting for you. Hot food. But under no circumstances take off these shoes and clothes.? She had barely finished her sentence before I was scrambling for the clothes. ?What do you say?? she asked me. And with all my heart I answered, ?Thank you, thank you!? ++++++ I would never be as beautiful as she was ... I felt shame for even allowing that thought to flicker across my mind ... and she was right, I could never rise to the standards to be good enough to earn a vagina. I made too many mistakes, even now that I was so much prettier, and men wanted me so much more. But, still, I was very happy with the body she gave me. It was such a gift. I would lie in bed at night, cupping my extra-large breasts in my hands, and cry myself to sleep with happiness. I knew she would not be pleased with how often I reached down and jerked myself into a delirious spray of jism, but I felt so good and I was aroused so much of the time. After healing from the surgery, I was constantly worried. My body felt so different that I was afraid I was making mistakes. My butt and hips were much larger than before, in fact, much larger than most women?s. So too were my breasts, being several cup sizes larger than what most women would consider large to start with. At first, I bumped into things and moved in a slightly clumsy fashion as I adjusted. Even my new huge lips, so much larger and poutier than before changed the way I spoke. Like a person still numb from dental surgery, I muffed words and wasn?t always clear. I lived in constant fear that I was getting all wrong and she would take her gift away. She did show me well deserved scorn and harshness when I was learning to live in this body. And I begged her to give me time get it right, but she also seemed very pleased when party guests called me her ?little bimbo doll,? so much so she often used the phrase herself. It made me sigh with joy, I could not think of a higher compliment than being compared to a doll. Since she was so beautifully kind to give me so much more than I deserved, I had been working at night on walking seamless on very high heels. I hoped that would please her. I slipped my polished red toes into a pair of six and a half inch white pumps; it was so much more fun getting dressed when I put my heels on first. I slipped into a tube top, my breasts may be enormous, but they sagged not one bit, and a form fitting tight white skirt. With a face as radically surgically altered as mine, I needed very little make up. And by taking such short cuts as having my eyeliner tattooed, I could be ready for the world in no time at all. She came into my room. Her face was not frowning, so I relaxed. ?Today is our anniversary,? she said. I felt a little confused, displaced. Haven?t I always been here? I honestly couldn?t remember. I hated when she spoke this way, it made me extremely anxious as though I were going to have a panic attack. ?And I brought you another gift to celebrate.? From behind her a large, very buffed man stepped into my room. He half chuckled. ?You weren?t kidding. She does look like some super bimboed out Barbie doll. I mean those lips, those tits? How big are those fucking things?? I blushed with appreciation. Does he really think I?m as pretty as Barbie? She laughed ? it was a rare sound ? and turned towards him. ??Barbie? here is yours to do with what you would like. Nothing is off the board. Well, you can?t hit her, but that?s about it.? She closed the door behind her as she left. He stepped out of his pants, fully erect. He liked what he saw. On my six and a half inch heels, I ran with tiny steps to the bathroom. I had not been expecting this, so I wasn?t prepared. Grabbing lube from the medicine cabinet I ran back. I hoped the minute or so I was gone was not too long. With my hand lubricated, I spread the gel over his stiff hardened cock, jerking it back and forth. He pressed his lips against my impossibly thick pouty lips and, amazingly, I could feel him stiffen even more. ?Bimbo Barbie,? he said in an almost determined voice, ?I?m going to fuck that hole of yours so hard you won?t walk for months.? I smiled tenderly at him; he really did want me, and not just because she gave me to him. I moved onto the bed, putting lots of pillows underneath my pelvis, so my ass was raised very high up in a position of complete submission. ?Come get me,? I said before immediately regretting being too bold. I should never direct them, I?m their toy, not the other way around. He didn?t seem to mind. With little fanfare he slid his huge, barely fitting, dick painfully all the way into the back of my tight hole and began slamming away. I had positioned my head a couple of inches shy of the headboard so it slammed into it with a thud during each vigorous pump. I know men like that. ?Oh your ass, so big, so tight. Oh you fucking bimbo bitch!? He didn?t last long and exploded into my gripping anal canal. Without another word he rolled off me, got dressed and left the room without a backward glance. My ass throbbing intensely with pain, I lie there for a moment to think about the wonderful thing that just happened. She trusted me alone to please this man; to please him without her instruction or watchful eyes for mistakes. I never felt more love for her than I did at this moment. A few hours passed before she reentered my room and began speaking at quite some length. My mind rebelled against the words, not allowing me to comprehend the concepts behind them. ?I don?t understand what you?re saying. This morning you let me please a man alone. You said it was a gift. Did I ... did I screw it up? I did, didn?t I? He came so fast, I thought it meant I was good ... I did try. I tried really hard.? I was openly crying, tears gushed heavily covering my face. ?No. You were exactly the quick fuck he needed. But I told you, today is the eighteen-month anniversary. You can go back to your life. You?re Xavier Spencer, wonder boy CEO, you can have money and a company ...? I fell to my knees and grabbed her around her legs, I didn?t care that it might get me punished. I loved her so much and she was rejecting me. And why does she keep saying that name? I don?t know that name! ?Spencer?, just the sound of it nagged angrily at my brain, making me uncomfortable and anxious. I could feel a panic attack approaching. ?Please, please let me stay. And just stop saying that name. Please stop saying that name. I?ll be better I promise. Just don?t make me go. I beg you. I BEG YOU!? ?You did beg me didn?t you? That?s all I ever wanted to hear. You beg me for this,? She actually stroked my hair with her hand. ?Of course you can stay, you can stay right here as my utterly broken ... completely shattered ... little doll.? I wiped my tears and kissed her foot lovingly. I enjoyed when she called me a doll. Dolls are so pretty. +++++ The End +++++ Diana Kimberly Heche