veronicas gang bang part 1
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Veronica's Surrender: Part 3 free porn video
Chapter 5:
Matt lay there, becoming increasingly annoyed by the smell of Sam's
breath as the larger of the two, still in a light state of sleep, nuzzled
the back of Matt's neck. Sam was typically a tidy man; a fact that the
now full-time Veronica found herself deeply grateful for, but he had been
drinking the night before and had gone to bed without brushing his teeth.
While the smell was bothersome, Matt wasn't nearly as attuned to it as
another telltale reminder that he was now the she in a spooning
arrangement. Matt could feel the growing morning erection in Sam's boxers
and he knew soon enough, that erection would be his responsibility to
take care. Another abbreviated snort from Sam led Matt to the freedom he
was craving, as Sam repositioned onto his back to get more air.
Quietly, Matt creeped into the hallway and into the guest bathroom down
the hall, careful not to step on any loose boards along the way. The
guest bath was attached to the generous second bedroom at the far end of
the hall. Inside, the bed sheets were meticulously kept and the walk-in
closet was teeming with every style of women's fashion imaginable. The
lovely bureau, hand-carved embroidery adorning the mirror on top,
contained every fashion of makeup and jewelry suited for a domestic
goddess. Matt closed the bathroom door behind him and sat down, just as
he had every day for the past four months, to relieve himself. The
presence of the chastity cage made it utterly impossible for him to
urinate in a manner resembling a man, and besides, sitting down was far
more tidy. He was thankful that Sam never used this bathroom and that he
was free to make it his own.
He arose from the toilet and walked to the sink, his eyes facing downward
and refusing to look into his reflection in the mirror. He knew as soon
as he saw himself in the mirror, that Veronica would be there. That he
would no longer have control and that he would begin his duties as a she.
He took a deep, defeated breath and looked up. She was staring back. In
the months since they had first met, Sam had conditioned her to not only
accept her lot as Veronica, but to embrace it fully. She was becoming
quite beautiful. Her hair had grown, now nearly to shoulder-length, and
with a now twice daily regimen of conditioner and products, it had taken
on a volume and shine that most women would only dream of. A single,
blond highlight on her left side popped in a way that made everyone look
twice when she walked past. Her face had never been the most masculine
when she was still Matt, but it had now had a lovely glow and an
unmistakable aura of femininity. Her large, green eyes were framed by
eyebrows that had been perfectly arched and thinned to give the allusion
that she was always asking a question. Her lips formed a beautiful pout
that seemed naked without lip gloss. Above them, her button nose was now
adorned by a single stud jewel on her right nostril. Her skin was soft
and had a slightly sun-kissed tone; a product no doubt of her partially
Cuban heritage. The only element of her face that did not ooze femininity
was her strong chin; a feature she now found herself surprisingly and
disturbingly resentful of. Sam had once told her he planned to model her
after Anna Kendrick, and it seemed he was doing a more than passable job.
Veronica brushed her teeth and hair and tended to the little bit of
stubble she had formed overnight before turning her attention to her
body. The hormones Sam had started her on that night had done their job,
and quickly. Veronica, coming from a family of busty and voluptuous
women, had blossomed quickly. Her chest now sported a pair of full and
firm B-cup breasts, the areoles growing to the size of a silver dollar
within a mere two weeks. She remembered crying herself to sleep the night
she felt the breast bud for the first time. She had promised herself that
enough was enough and that the next day she would tell Sam she was
leaving. Now, she couldn't walk around outside without wearing one of her
dozens of stylish and sexy bras. Her curves were slower to develop than
were her breasts. Sam had put her on a strict diet, reducing her caloric
intake by half and putting her on a muscle-losing and cardio-building
exercise regimen that had her drop 20 pounds, but she was still heavier
and flatter than Sam wanted. Albeit, she would have found it impossible
to wear men's jeans anymore, If Sam would have allowed her to anyway. She
sighed a defeated sign as she prepared to turn around and pick out her
outfit for the day, but her train of thought was interrupted, as she
heard Sam yell down the hallway.
"Veronica? Babe, come here! I want to smack your tits around a little
before I get out of bed this morning."
Veronica shivered with that old combination of disgust, anxiety,
excitement and arousal. She yelled back, her voice not entirely female,
but certainly containing no hints of manliness, "Coming, sir!" She took
one last look in the mirror and thought back again to that night. That
night four months ago that started so playfully, so innocently. That
night where she lost her manhood, her dignity and her virginity.
Chapter 6:
The hike back to her house was miserable. It was a Friday night and one
of the first nice evenings of spring. Families were outside grilling,
couples were on moonlit walks, and young revelers were venturing out to
their preferred watering holes. And here was Veronica, her dress ripped
and showing off far more of her lacey yellow bra than any girl would have
liked, her mascara running down her cheeks and her lipstick smeared from
the brutal face fucking she had received earlier. The thought of the
horrible smell of Sam's balls pressed against her nose as she struggled
to breath made it even more real. And of course, the lowlight of it all,
was the slowly-drying semen roped from her belly button to her forehead.
And Sam's insistence that she not only leave it, but send him
photographic evidence of it all before she returned. She did the best she
could to avoid the judging eyes of her neighbors, but more than one made
snide comments about the dirty slut that was proudly displaying her
disheveled self as she walked across the parking lot, snapping selfies of
herself every so often. Worst of all, as she approached the front door to
her townhome, she had to walk directly between her two neighbors, both of
whom were outside having a conversation.
They looked at her as she, head down, tried to shuffle between them. As
she made it roughly to the halfway point of her sidewalk, her high-heel
shoe caught a crack in the pavement and she stumbled to her knees. Her
neighbor, sensing something odd about the entire scene, but not quite yet
sure what it was, asked, "uh, are you okay?" Veronica, her face flushed
red with humiliation, stumbled to her feet, and in her most feminine
voice possible replied, "I'm fine, thank you!" She fumbled through her
purse until she found her keys and rushed inside, dodging another round
of questions from her inquisitive neighbors.
As soon as she got inside, she fell to the ground and broke into tears.
The sound was soft, feminine and entirely pathetic as she relived the
night she had just had. Worst of all, the only thing she really wanted to
do was attend to her aching member locked away in its cage; a task
impossible due to Sam's confiscation of the one and only key. She kicked
off her high heel shoes, realizing how badly her feet ached after walking
much further in them than she ever had before, and tried to formulate a
plan. Sam knew everything about her. He had photos of him in every
compromising position imaginable. Worse yet, he had an hour or more of
video footage of Veronica being completely and utterly degraded and
destroyed; her Matthew alter ego being disassembled and this horny bimbo
being built in his place. She decided there was no real hope but to
return and to beg him for mercy. Her phone dinged as she began to arise.
It was Sam.
"Veronica, you have 45 minutes to get back here, babe. I hope that's
enough time for you to get all of the spunk off of you ;)" She arose in a
daze, barely aware of the fact that she was walking to the bathroom until
the bright fluorescent lights snapped her back to attention. She began to
peel the sundress from her body; the combination of semen and sweat
making it both a difficult and appalling process. Her bra and panties
were both soaked with sweat. She reached behind her back and unhooked the
bra with the expert precision of a woman who had been doing it since her
inception to puberty. The feminine and delicate scene in the mirror
caused her to stop and shudder as she realized just how good she was at
the task. Even now, with her wig removed and without the jizz-stained
dress, she really did make a good woman. She retrieved a wash cloth and
began to wipe off her face, disgusted by the realization that the semen
had already began to dry and harden, making it incredibly difficult to
remove.
She discarded the soiled clothing and went to her dresser, kicking a pair
of male boxers and khakis out of the way as she went. She opened the
drawer that contained all of her girlie implements and thought back to
what Sam had insisted upon earlier. Sexy, slutty, sultry. She sighed
somewhat as she retrieved the matching black push-up bra and boy short
panties. She slid her shoulders through the straps, reached behind
herself and hooked the bra on the first try, allowing it to snap into
place as she adjusted the straps and cups to rest on her small bosom. The
panties slid up her silky smooth legs and settled into place; more
comfortable than the thong, but still riding between her cheeks and
showing off her pert behind.
She went to her closet and retrieved the first dress that came to mind
when Sam had given her the instructions; a black mini dress with ruching
and spaghetti straps. She took out the dress and again felt the familiar
sting of sadness and disgust as she realized just how slutty she was
going to look. She had worn the dress before, but never in public, and
never for another person, let alone a horny man who was making it clear
that he was going to deflower her in the dress. She glanced to the side
and saw a pair of black thigh-high stockings and realized they would
improve the look. She stopped briefly and pondered why she was thinking
about more ways to look sexy and impress this man who was now her captor,
but quickly shoed away the hesitation as she rolled the stockings up her
legs and snapped them into place. She pulled the dress over her head and
adjusted it to settle over top of her artificial curves. The dress was
much tighter than the one she wore earlier, and with its incredibly short
hem, she knew walking would be an issue. She looked in her closet and
retrieved the highest, sluttiest heels she could find. A pair of 5"
stiletto boots that laced up to just above her ankle. She returned to the
bathroom and replaced her wig, taking the brush to remove the tangles and
semen stains that had penetrated the fibers. She touched up her makeup
and walked downstairs.
There she again stopped to peer at her reflection in the mirror. Earlier
the woman that stared back at her was cute, classy and feminine. A woman
who was on her way out and who didn't mind a little attention, but not
one who was begging for it. That woman was gone now and had been replaced
by a sissy creature that left no room for debate as to what she was
looking for. Veronica now stood at nearly 6' tall with the high heel
boots. She looked upwards to her legs; clad in black stockings and
elongated by the effect of the high heel shoes. They were gorgeous legs,
the type you would see on a fresh, young stripper. Above them, the tight,
short dress with ruffles throughout did not even cover the lace tops of
the black stockings; the effect exacerbating the whorish nature of the
outfit. Above it all, her face was painted with a perfect combination of
reckless abandon and feminine precision, giving the allusion of a girl
who knew what she was doing, but who threw on a little too heavy makeup
to get the attention of the guys. In short, what was staring back at
Veronica, was a dirty slut. She felt a combination of disgust and pride
in the image that looked back at her, as she cocked her hip, placed one
hand on her thigh and blew the mirror a kiss. She retrieved her purse and
checked her phone. She didn't have much time as the time read 10:53. She
checked her new messages and was not surprised to find Sam had sent her
several. The last two were a picture of his massive member with the
caption stating, "Waiting for you." Veronica felt the familiar twitch in
her loins as she remembered she had not had release all day, coupled with
the disgust and anger of Matt pushing back against her. "I'm not gay!" he
seemed to shout, but the circumstances of the evening and the arousal
Veronica felt seemed to render that argument just plain silly. The last
photo and message filled her with dread. Sent at 10:50, it read, "Hope
you're not chickening out. Because at 11:01, this picture goes to your
boss. The photo was a side-by-side comparison of Matt in boy mode, and
Veronica from earlier that night, her mascara running, cum covering her
face, and an odd, coy smile on her lips.
Grace
- 08.03.2020
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