Today marks the release of a new caption story, called “Rose”. It follows a man who, when his grandmother dies, is set to inherit an airline. However, the conditions of her will are such that in order to inherit his birthright, he must become a flight attendant. Featuring Abigail Mac.
If you’d like to read this (or any of the dozens of other stories available, click on the following link to find out how to get access to my library:
Today, I’m publishing a new caption story called “Coping”. It centers on a young transgender woman as she tries to deal with the consequences of her transition. It features Carrie Brookes.
Become one of my Patreon Supporters to gain access to this or any of the 40+ other stories like it. In addition, you’ll get ten of my novels for free. If you’d like to know more, just click the following link:
Dan’s interview went well. The interviewer was pleased at his will to throw his whole life away and embrace a new one. A better one in service to the corporation. She approved his application keeping her emotionless business face firm.
Dan would now go through rigorous training, hormone therapy, body redesign and metal reconditioning all paid for by the corporation and using the most advanced technology.
You see, the corporation believes in powerful women. But it knows many males have talent and knowledge that would serve them well. How does one fix such a confliction? You convince them to exchange their manhood for feminine power.
Dan did this and after his brain was broken, body warped and training installed he awoke a woman, one who now works in administration as Miss Danella.
She now has the power, the body and the mind of a latex clad goddess. She feels much more useful in her new role and is even interviewing more potential candidates within her own family and Friend group.
The corporation has over 100.000 members world wide and growing. Openings are posted daily.
That asshole! Always looking for ways to ruin someone else’s day!
You have been at this job for a year now and ever since day one, your boss, James, has tried to make your life worse than the day before. As the head mechanic-slash-owner of an auto repair store in the middle of nowhere, this was probably the only way he could feel powerful. Treating others like garbage is just his way of filling that void in his life. In the last year, he’s been through three other mechanics. All three left town for the distant city, not just for a better paying job, but to be far away from the small, petty ruler of his own personal kingdom. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be able to find better paying work without the skill set James had promised to teach you and then did not deliver on. This leaves you as a stock boy being treated more like one of the transmissions he changed out than an actual person.
So, what set you off this time? A dress code. He never had one before! But you came in to work wearing a t-shirt you picked up at a concert the night before and suddenly his shop had an image to maintain. Customers would not “take this place seriously” if they saw one of his “workers” wearing a band shirt. Plus, he suddenly had a problem with the length of your hair. It’s true, it was getting a little shaggy, but you’d been saving your money and hadn’t been to the barber recently. And the worst thing is, he knew that. He knew you were saving up your cash for that wild vacation at the beach you’d had planned, which meant that you couldn’t just quit if he made your life harder. So… sudden dress code! And you have to pay for all those new clothes and haircut out of your own pocket.
I mean, I bet he wouldn’t try this crap if I was a–
That was the first time the idea popped into your head. You take a look in the mirror, giving a critical look to your features and body shape. It seemed crazy, but maybe…
Well, let’s see what we can do about this!
—–
The door rings as you step into the workshop. James is focused completely on the job log as you step up to the counter.
“So, decide to follow the rules now?” He turns around with a slight smirk that disappears instantly.
“Jeans, button up shirt, no long hair. Got it!”
The jeans you picked up from a fashionable boutique downtown, the shirt from a value store nearby. Everything else… well, that took a nice chunk of your fun money for the next six months. You told the hair stylist you were just playing a joke and planned to shave everything down in a week, but you’re pretty sure she knew better. A pair of prosthetic breasts, designed to let mastectomy patients wear low cut shirts, give an unusual feeling of weight to your chest. The weight, though, was comfortably supported by the soft blue front-clasp bralet you left exposed under the ratty workman’s shirt. A matching pair of blue panties graced your hips, the lace trimmed band of which was slightly visable over your low hanging distressed jeans. To an untrained eye, like the one your overbearing boss had, your makeup wasn’t extensive. But you knew differently. It took a lot of work this morning, but you loved the effect it had in smoothing out your the tone of your skin and highlighting your best, most feminine features. You slipped a single ring on your right hand and stepped out feeling… well, snarky, but also a bit… you’re not sure why, but a bit stronger. More natural. You could definitely see yourself dressing like this more often!
Especially when your boss gets that beet red glow in his face and that angry look in his eyes.
“Get the hell out of that crap right now!” The order hits you just the wrong way.
Well, he is the boss.
You don’t break eye contact as you pull your work shirt off, fully exposing your bralette. For this to work, you know, its going to take the right frame of mind. As you look at him, you try to think of him as the opposite sex. You relax and fall into the mindset that you are a strong, confident woman, face to face with a man. Not just a man, but one that you know is weaker than you. He has all the bluster and bravado that some men get when they are put in positions of power, but you understand where that comes from, a weak man’s desire for power. You, on the other hand, are a woman who knows the power she naturally has over men and is fully aware of the effect her body has on the sort of worm you’re now facing. You try to stop thinking about the fact that your breasts are false and you still have a penis between your legs, instead focusing on the feminine power you’ve hidden away until today.
Your fingers reach up and deftly unclasp your bra. You slide your fingers up the curve of your carefully crafted breasts and flip the cups aside, the straps falling to your elbows. Your fingertips graze the softness of the forms and move quickly to grasp the waistband of your jeans, sliding them slightly down and further exposing your panties.
“Wait! No, that’s– that’s not what…”
Not what he had in mind? Too bad, little man! Your eyes flick downward as you turn and expose your naked back to him, pulling your jeans and panties down over your ass.
You’ve never been more glad to have that bit of curve in your hip and extra padding in the backside that everyone in school made fun of you for. You concentrate on the show you’re putting on, as you get ready to spin and give him just what he said he wanted, you not wearing the clothes you came in with. You hear his voice stammering, his will failing, unable to find the words to tell you to stop.
“I… I…” At that point, you know you have him. When you started with this plan, you didn’t think he’d be this easy, but now? A moment ago, you were trying to set your mind straight about how confident you were in your body. Now, though, you aren’t just thinking it. You really do know the power a woman like you has over a man like him. The surge of emotion begins to take over, carried by the knowledge of how you’ve manipulated your boss to your will. You made this man think about a person in ways he never had… you were making him want things he didn’t ever know he would… he, a supposedly “straight” male, wants you. And with that, the blood begins to flow to your groin. The buzz of excitement between your legs breaks the image you’d cultivated in your mind, one where you were entirely female. But as your dick slips away from where you’d tucked it away in your panties, it begins to swell and arc upwards.
Time for the final test…
You turn and lean back against the counter, fully showing the little worm everything he didn’t know he wanted to see. Looking him once more in the eyes, you watch as his gaze roams up and down your lean and toned body, from your pert breasts, carefully blended to appear completely natural, down to the erect manhood you formerly had tucked away. The tension in his jaw and shoulders tell you he’s doing everything he can not to grab himself right in front of you. Grab himself, or maybe grab you!
“You want to talk to me about dress codes now?” His eyes start back to your’s as you speak in a feminine voice you’d cultivated over the years as a joke. Lust and shame flash across his face as he stops seeing you as his stock boy and begins to stare at an object of pure lustful desire. He spins and runs back into his office, slamming the door behind him. Your mind comes back down as you start to slide your clothes back on.
Yeah… yeah, I could definitely get used to this! You look at the office door, knowing full well what he’s going to be doing in that office with himself. And what’s wrong with that, you wonder. You’d hated it when it when the kids in gym class pointed out before, but you have the body that could be mistaken for a woman’s, under the right circumstances. It’s only natural that a man should want to do things with you. And if they forget, all you have to do is give them a little reminder. You can be the feminine force of their dreams, and they can’t control you the way you control them.
Yes, you know what he’s going to do to himself, and he’ll know you know. He may be the boss, but now, you’re the one in charge…
Just want to say that the Tumblr app for Android blows. Couldn’t post on Monday proper, but I got the queue working again so… here’s this. Reeeeeally intend to do a follow up sometime, hopefully soon. :)
The situation was a bit of a problem. To be honest with yourself, it was a lot more of a compliment, but it did present a problem. When your friends asked what you were going to the big Halloween bash as, you had no idea. So, off the cuff, you just said “I’m thinking about going as a hot girl″. They laughed and blew it off. No one would ever mistake you for a girl, and they knew there was no way you would ever show up in public dressed as one, much less dressed as a hotone.
Well, I’ll show them!
After lots of research and developing a new skill in prosthetic makeup, you showed up to the huge party looking far better than you had any right to. Your masculine nature completely submerged beneath the new feminine image laid over the top, a feminine image that came in the form of a Victorian vision of a female who wields the powers of darkness and magic.
Your friends… they didn’t say a word. At first, you thought that was more than a little rude, but then you realized the truth.
They didn’t recognize you!
The girls in your little group were giving you the cold shoulder because you were competition. The guys in your group… well, the ones that didn’t think you were out of their league already had girlfriends making it clear that you were to stay away from their men. You were imagining their faces tomorrow when you reveal the witch was you when the problem cropped up.
"Hey, I’ve never seen you at one of these before! I’m James!”
Oh no…
You didn’t recognize him, but he’d had a couple beers already and it looked like he hadn’t figured out that you were packing equipment he might not be interested in. Better act fast…
“Cordelia,” you say back with a cute smile. No, he’s still not picking up on the fact that he’s about to hit on a guy in a costume. So you kept it up, inventing bits and pieces of a story and trying to make it clear that you don’t want what he’s pitching. Still, like most guys, he’s just wouldn’t get it. So finally, you let drop the idea that you actually are a witch.
“So, if you’re really a witch… why don’t you cast a spell on me?” He was still smiling, which you have to admit was kind of nice. Having someone try this hard to get with you is not exactly a common occurrence, but you know how that would end up. So… time to play. You stared into his eyes through your colored contacts, hovering you hands on either side of his head, and gave him your best soul-searing gaze while saying the first thing that came to mind.
“Auget… penem… tibi…”
You keep your eyes locked on his and repeat the phrase.
“Auget. Penem. Tibi.”
His eyes widen as a touch of fear grips his heart. The attention he’s given you until now has been purely sexual, almost predatory. But through his drunken, hazy mind, he’s starting to see you as a more powerful creature than he thought, as if he was no longer the predator, but the prey. Closing your eyes, your tilt your head backwards and repeat the phrase a third time, deepening your voice just slightly.
“Auget! Penem! Tibi!”
The act was so convincing, you almost convinced yourself, like you actually felt a rush of energy passing from the universe, through you, and into James. Your head tilts back and your eyes flutter open, a satisfied smile playing across your lips.
“What… uh… what did that mean?” He looks confused. Worried. You keep smiling.
“I’ll tell you later.” An idea just popped into your mind. "For now, let’s dance!“ It didn’t take much to drag him into a group of dancers and start moving to the beat. You played around with him, just living up the notion that this female version of you was leading a guy on.
Relax into it, you told yourself. Just go with the flow and you can end it later…
The songs got faster. The beats got stronger. Before long, the two of you were nearly grinding on each other like horny teenagers. He spun you around, hands on your hips, and began to lean in. It felt like the natural thing to do to push back. Just enjoying the warmth of human contact against your back, that was when you first felt it.
He was hard.
You made a man hard for you.
He pressed himself harder against you and talked into your ear.
"Oh, god… Do you know what are you doing to me?”
You press back against him and spun your hips.
“You wanted me to cast a spell on you, right? Now you’ll do as I command, or I’ll never lift my curse!”
The fear crept back into his voice. Is he starting to think you’re a real–
“What do I have to do? Are you going to steal my soul?”
“No,” you laugh. "I’m not interested in your soul–“ The playful tone of your voice filtered out with a grittier edge. ”–Yet. No, I want something far simpler. I want you–“ And now you can tell him to just leave and– "to pleaseme.”
–Pleaseme?
A nervous smile came back across his lips. “Oh… oh fuck yeah, I’ll please you, Cordelia!”
The rest of the night passed almost like a dream. A strange, musky scent filled your nostrils. Someone played with your body, creating sensations you’d never experienced. Strong, large hands held your face, gripped your breasts, and pulled at your hips. Hard, unyielding lips parted and a tongue that tasted of a cheap beer pressed into your mouth. Stiff cords of muscle rippled under hot skin as clothes came off your bodies. Hands moved from your hips to spread your legs apart. It was only natural that you hooked your legs around his and pulled him down on top of you. A feeling of something soft as velvet, burning hot and under laid with hard steel, pressing between your legs…
—–
When you awoke the next morning, you still felt exhausted. Groaning, you sat up in bed, looking around at your own room. Confused you looked down and saw that prosthetics still attached to your body, though slowly beginning to peel off. Your witch’s cloak and dress lay draped across the chair at your desk. And you were alone.
Check my phone!
You grabbed your phone and paged through dozens of texts and social media posts. Your friends were wondering why you never showed up at the party, giving you crap about not having the guts to really go for it. Skimming through the posts, you stopped on a set of pictures and looked into the background, behind your friends posing for selfies and group shots. And there she was. A redheaded gothic witch, every inch of her a woman of confidence and power, both magical and sexual. Here, she’s talking. There, she’s dancing. And last… she’s leading a man by the belt off the dance floor and towards the door.
That asshole! Always looking for ways to ruin someone else’s day!
You have been at this job for a year now and ever since day one, your boss, James, has tried to make your life worse than the day before. As the head mechanic-slash-owner of an auto repair store in the middle of nowhere, this was probably the only way he could feel powerful. Treating others like garbage is just his way of filling that void in his life. In the last year, he’s been through three other mechanics. All three left town for the distant city, not just for a better paying job, but to be far away from the small, petty ruler of his own personal kingdom. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be able to find better paying work without the skill set James had promised to teach you and then did not deliver on. This leaves you as a stock boy being treated more like one of the transmissions he changed out than an actual person.
So, what set you off this time? A dress code. He never had one before! But you came in to work wearing a t-shirt you picked up at a concert the night before and suddenly his shop had an image to maintain. Customers would not “take this place seriously” if they saw one of his “workers” wearing a band shirt. Plus, he suddenly had a problem with the length of your hair. It’s true, it was getting a little shaggy, but you’d been saving your money and hadn’t been to the barber recently. And the worst thing is, he knew that. He knew you were saving up your cash for that wild vacation at the beach you’d had planned, which meant that you couldn’t just quit if he made your life harder. So… sudden dress code! And you have to pay for all those new clothes and haircut out of your own pocket.
I mean, I bet he wouldn’t try this crap if I was a–
That was the first time the idea popped into your head. You take a look in the mirror, giving a critical look to your features and body shape. It seemed crazy, but maybe…
Well, let’s see what we can do about this!
—–
The door rings as you step into the workshop. James is focused completely on the job log as you step up to the counter.
“So, decide to follow the rules now?” He turns around with a slight smirk that disappears instantly.
“Jeans, button up shirt, no long hair. Got it!”
The jeans you picked up from a fashionable boutique downtown, the shirt from a value store nearby. Everything else… well, that took a nice chunk of your fun money for the next six months. You told the hair stylist you were just playing a joke and planned to shave everything down in a week, but you’re pretty sure she knew better. A pair of prosthetic breasts, designed to let mastectomy patients wear low cut shirts, give an unusual feeling of weight to your chest. The weight, though, was comfortably supported by the soft blue front-clasp bralet you left exposed under the ratty workman’s shirt. A matching pair of blue panties graced your hips, the lace trimmed band of which was slightly visable over your low hanging distressed jeans. To an untrained eye, like the one your overbearing boss had, your makeup wasn’t extensive. But you knew differently. It took a lot of work this morning, but you loved the effect it had in smoothing out your the tone of your skin and highlighting your best, most feminine features. You slipped a single ring on your right hand and stepped out feeling… well, snarky, but also a bit… you’re not sure why, but a bit stronger. More natural. You could definitely see yourself dressing like this more often!
Especially when your boss gets that beet red glow in his face and that angry look in his eyes.
“Get the hell out of that crap right now!” The order hits you just the wrong way.
Well, he is the boss.
You don’t break eye contact as you pull your work shirt off, fully exposing your bralette. For this to work, you know, its going to take the right frame of mind. As you look at him, you try to think of him as the opposite sex. You relax and fall into the mindset that you are a strong, confident woman, face to face with a man. Not just a man, but one that you know is weaker than you. He has all the bluster and bravado that some men get when they are put in positions of power, but you understand where that comes from, a weak man’s desire for power. You, on the other hand, are a woman who knows the power she naturally has over men and is fully aware of the effect her body has on the sort of worm you’re now facing. You try to stop thinking about the fact that your breasts are false and you still have a penis between your legs, instead focusing on the feminine power you’ve hidden away until today.
Your fingers reach up and deftly unclasp your bra. You slide your fingers up the curve of your carefully crafted breasts and flip the cups aside, the straps falling to your elbows. Your fingertips graze the softness of the forms and move quickly to grasp the waistband of your jeans, sliding them slightly down and further exposing your panties.
“Wait! No, that’s– that’s not what…”
Not what he had in mind? Too bad, little man! Your eyes flick downward as you turn and expose your naked back to him, pulling your jeans and panties down over your ass.
You’ve never been more glad to have that bit of curve in your hip and extra padding in the backside that everyone in school made fun of you for. You concentrate on the show you’re putting on, as you get ready to spin and give him just what he said he wanted, you not wearing the clothes you came in with. You hear his voice stammering, his will failing, unable to find the words to tell you to stop.
“I… I…” At that point, you know you have him. When you started with this plan, you didn’t think he’d be this easy, but now? A moment ago, you were trying to set your mind straight about how confident you were in your body. Now, though, you aren’t just thinking it. You really do know the power a woman like you has over a man like him. The surge of emotion begins to take over, carried by the knowledge of how you’ve manipulated your boss to your will. You made this man think about a person in ways he never had… you were making him want things he didn’t ever know he would… he, a supposedly “straight” male, wants you. And with that, the blood begins to flow to your groin. The buzz of excitement between your legs breaks the image you’d cultivated in your mind, one where you were entirely female. But as your dick slips away from where you’d tucked it away in your panties, it begins to swell and arc upwards.
Time for the final test…
You turn and lean back against the counter, fully showing the little worm everything he didn’t know he wanted to see. Looking him once more in the eyes, you watch as his gaze roams up and down your lean and toned body, from your pert breasts, carefully blended to appear completely natural, down to the erect manhood you formerly had tucked away. The tension in his jaw and shoulders tell you he’s doing everything he can not to grab himself right in front of you. Grab himself, or maybe grab you!
“You want to talk to me about dress codes now?” His eyes start back to your’s as you speak in a feminine voice you’d cultivated over the years as a joke. Lust and shame flash across his face as he stops seeing you as his stock boy and begins to stare at an object of pure lustful desire. He spins and runs back into his office, slamming the door behind him. Your mind comes back down as you start to slide your clothes back on.
Yeah… yeah, I could definitely get used to this! You look at the office door, knowing full well what he’s going to be doing in that office with himself. And what’s wrong with that, you wonder. You’d hated it when it when the kids in gym class pointed out before, but you have the body that could be mistaken for a woman’s, under the right circumstances. It’s only natural that a man should want to do things with you. And if they forget, all you have to do is give them a little reminder. You can be the feminine force of their dreams, and they can’t control you the way you control them.
Yes, you know what he’s going to do to himself, and he’ll know you know. He may be the boss, but now, you’re the one in charge…
A sharp knock on your door snaps you away from staring at the doorknob of your new roommate’s closed door. Your coffee has gotten cold, you’ve been wordlessly standing there for that long. The last few days have been… Uneventful. You keep expecting to hear something, to sense something, but your house has been all quiet. You want so badly to go in there, to check on him, to see what kind of state he’s in, but you promised you wouldn’t. Not even to bring him some water. The first three days, he said, were crucial… Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, he needed to remain totally isolated, even the smallest piece of input could bring him out of his trance. He needed his first outside contact to be from his “hypnotherapist”.
Who is probably the one banging on your door right now.
You don’t know what sort of person you were expecting… maybe a skeezy guy holding a pocket watch, but a professionally dressed woman with a black breifcase and her hair tied up in a bun certainly wasnt it. She greets you warmly, and smiles at your stunned expression. She’s hot! What’s a woman like this doing making house calls to hypnosis fetishists? She assures you she’s here to see your boarder and asks whether you’ve resisted the urge to look inside. You blush, but tell her that no, you haven’t so much as cracked the door into the room. She seems pleased to hear this, but gestures you to leave her to her patient.
You pause for a split second, your eyes flicking to the door. You realize too late that this woman’s presence has given you a huge, throbbing boner. You want to see inside? She inquires casually, trying not to smirk. You stutter something about being too busy, and quickly leave them to it. You don’t want this beautiful woman to think you’re aroused by what’s happening in there.
But as you brew a new coffee, you find yourself getting curious. Moreso than you’ve ever felt before. What’s going on in there? What are they doing? You sneakily sidle up to the door, pressing your ear against the cold, hard wood. What you hear from the woman you let in makes you cock throb like never before.
“Oh, that’s a good girl… what a good little slut, sitting like this for so long… You’re such a posable little toy, you could sit like this for days, and you will… You’re barely started yet… There we go…. Lets get these off you… oh, pretty! *snap* nothing going on in there at all, gooood little bitch…. Here, drink this… good girl…. All of it, there you go…. Okay slut, time to lie down. On the floor here…..”
You listen through the door as the hypnotherapist starts a routine, getting her patient to relax…. to allow more information in…. to absorb it permanently more and more. Your hand starts to creep into your pants as you start to get an idea of what sort of instructions your guest has been mindlessly listening to. Hes in there… addicting himself to sex. Sex as a woman! With men, with women, always as the submissive, the obedient, taking cocks inside him…. God, why would anyone do that to themselves? But you look down at your throbbing cock, and part of you thinks…. That actually is pretty hot… not being feminized, that sounds like a nightmare…. But fucking a brainwashed little bitch? One who has willingly erased his mind and turned himself into a demure little doll? You can kinda see the appeal in that….
You pull you hand out of your pants, not quite sure how to deal with that thought. Would you? Could you? Will you get to? And suddenly there’s a click, and the door you’re eavesdropping through swings open and you’re left awkwardly standing where you know you’re not supposed to be with a very obvious bulge showing.
The therapist does not seem phased. She just smiles kindly and asks you if you’ll so your guest another favour? You nod, not really sure how else to react, and follow her back into the dark room.
Your eyes adjust and you swallow. The air is thick with sweat and…. Something else. Something girly smelling? Maybe the therapist sprayed something in here? You decide not to worry about it as your eyes fall on your guest. Lying on his back on the floor, his mouth hangs open and his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling above him. He’s wearing nothing but some kind of cage over his cock, which seems to be leaking fluid. He looks high out of his mind.
Your cock twitches.
The therapist explains to you that he’s not even in the room. He’s so deep in a trance and has been subject to severe brainwashing since you locked his door. She proves her point by roughly slapping his face. He doesn’t even blink.
So what does she want you to do? You ask, never taking your eyes off the hypnotized person in front of you. Two things, she responds, to add to your list of instructions. She hands you her suitcase, and opens it. Its full of syringes.
Every day at precisely 12pm, you are to enter the room and inject her with two of these syringes, she says, removing two of them. One in her rump, she demonstrates, plunging the needle into your guest’s ass and squeezing it empty… and the other into her lips. She swiftly does the same with the second syringe into the lip above his gaped mouth. Try to alternate top to bottom each day, she instructs, smiling.
You’re stare into the suitcase, at the rows and rows of needles you’ve just been asked to drug another human being with. You have so many questions about what is happening in here… but this woman is to beautiful, so intimidating in how calm she is…. so instead you ask, what’s the second thing? She grins, and drops her gaze to your still-bulging crotch. She needs you to… start feeding her, she begins. Her patient has… extremely specific dietary requirements, and she asks you if you’ll be willing to provide semen to feed her with?
Your cock twitches.
She chuckles as you stand with your mouth open, staring stupidly, not unlike the other occupant of the room. It’s alright, she assures you. She only needs a small amount to get by each day, perhaps two orgasms worth? She begins sitting up the hypnotized guy, and getting him back into his bondage rig. By the time she’s put his vr headset back on, you’ve mustered up the courage to speak.
How often, and how should you… administer it? You ask lamely. She packs her belongings, getting ready to restart the looping hypnosis. Oh, once or twice a day will be fine…. as for how to get it in her.. Well, she’s not gonna bite. Put that package you’re smuggling down her throat and just try to enjoy yourself!
She tells you she’ll see you in a few days for the next conditioning enforcement and with a smile leaves you alone in the room with a man in the process of brainwashing himself into a sex slave. This is happening.
Your cock twitches. You wonder if now will qualify as feeding time….
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” You ask, running your finger over the large red button. This is all so weird. When your friend, not really even your friend, this stranger you talk to on the internet, when they messaged you and asked if you could do them a favor… How could you say no to a deal like that? You didn’t think they would really take you up on your offer of a room. A room to stay in while they erase themselves.
“I’m sure…” he giggles, eyes wide, excited at what he’s finally doing. You’re thinking of him as a he, but even at a glance you can tell there’s something else going on there. He’s been taking something, surely. Men don’t have figures like that, waists that tiny. Men especially don’t have lips that large or such long beautiful hair…. What the fuck is up with this guy?
“You…. You’re not gonna rob me and leave me here are you?” He smirks, choosing not to look you in the eye. You feel a slight sting as you realise this is all part of it. He doesn’t even trust you. If he did, would it really count as “true helplessness”?
Because that’s why he’s here. You think back to the ad you responded to. It was only a few days ago, but things have moved so fast since then….
WANTED: A partner to help me experience true, complete helplessness. I will need a room in your home, in which I will dose myself with mind-altering drugs, bind myself beyond escape, and use hypnosis to fuck my mind beyond comprehension. You will need to take me to some pre-paid appointments, and watch over me to make sure I don’t die. After 40 days, my schedule will be complete and you can do whatever you like with me. Use me, make money off hiring me out. Sell me for all I care.
So you watch, transfixed and this person goes about binding themselves tightly in place. As they shove a large vibrating plug into their asshole. As they pull a sports mouthguard from its case, and carefully, slowly insert it over their teeth. He showed it to you earlier, it’s completely lined with tabs of LSD. He’s got three more that you will have to put into his mouth every 10 days. He said there’s enough in each one to totally fry his brain, and absorbing it through his gums should make it kick even harder…. This guy is really serious about what he’s doing.
He beckons you over, and you help him finish off his rig. You bind his hands, place the VR headset over his eyes, noise cancelling headphones over his ears, and finish up with the ball-gag over his lips. He takes a sharp inhale through his nose as he steers himself for what’s to come. Even around the ball in his mouth, you can see him smiling involuntarily. He’s fucking loving this.
You look over the schedule he handed you, detailing his pre-paid appointments. He has a hypnotherapist coming every three days to, as he put it “reinforce my programming”, you’re supposed to let them in and just leave them to it. In 14 days you have to remove him from the rig and transport him to a small private surgical practice nearby. You’re not sure what they’re going to do to him there, but you’re supposed to put him back on hypnos as soon as he gets out of surgery.
From there, there are 2 more surgical appointments a dental appointment of some description, and one right at the end of the 40 days, with apparently 2 weeks of recovery time in the hospital. What the fuck is this guy planning on doing to himself?
The final note, just mentions a dodgy tattoo and piercing studio downtown. You’ve walked past it before, but the people there seem a little extreme for your liking. The note next to it says “just leave me there if you don’t want to deal with me anymore”.
You look from the list you’ve agreed to stick to, to the immobile person bound in front of you. He’s bobbing up and down now, looking like a little kid about to get a candy shopping spree. He gives the signal, a slow, calculated nod, and you push PLAY on the device plugged into his headset and headphones. Flashing lights and strange noises start, and you’re sure are going to continue nonstop for the next 40 days.
As agreed you exit the room, turning off the light and locking the door behind you, not to return for 12 hours to check on him.
You stand at the door for a long time thinking about what’s going on on the other side of it…did you just get yourself a free sex slave? Coz it really seems like that’s what he’s doing to himself. Well, if nothing else, the next 40 days, are going to be really fucking interesting.
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*Giggles*
Hi friends! It feels nice to be posting again. I couldn’t find any good porn to go with this story, so if you find some, like send it my way and I’ll add it :D
I suuuuper wanna try this for myself… any volunteers to be my babysitter?
From: Kim-Babe, please don’t make me do this…. I’m sorry okay! I won’t do it again! (message sent 4:50pm)
From: Dennis - Nuh-uh! You want to come to my job and embarrass me to entertain your douchey new friends? You can work my shift tonight! (message sent 4:50pm)
From: Dennis -And if you have any ideas about getting your body back after work, you’ll send me every damn selfie I tell you to. Make it good, your mates want to see some cleavage! (message sent 4:51pm)
From: Kim- Okay…. but just this one, right? I don’t want these guys to think you’d cheat on me? (message sent 4:52pm)
From: Dennis- That’s not what you were thinking about last night! Flashing my top up for your idiot mate Don. You’re lucky this is all I do to you. Now send the selfie or you can work my whole week for me. (message sent 4:54pm)
To: Don, Jack, Henry, Josh, Dennis. From: Kim - Great to see you boys last night! Thanks for ALL the tips! XX Kim (message sent 4:56pm)
From: Dennis - Good. How does that feel? To be just a set of tits attached to “just a waitress?” (message sent 4:56pm)
From: Kim - Okay, you’ve made your point… It’s embarrassing okay…. I gotta start your shift now. (message sent 4:58pm)
From: Dennis - Don’t forget, you’ve gotta send another every hour! (message sent 4:59pm)
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To: Don, Jack, Henry, Josh, Dennis. From: Kim - Hooters! Come down and say hi boys! Maybe you’ll see more of all this! (message sent 6:08pm)
From: Dennis - Ha! I knew that would sound funny! Also btw you’re 10 minutes late! (message sent 6:11pm)
From: Kim - I know I’m sorry, there were these customers. They were being assholes and one tried to put a spoon up my butt! (message sent 6:11pm)
From: Dennis - Awwww what’s the matter? Can’t handle being “just a waitress” babe? Welcome to hospo! How are you doing on tips? (message sent 6:12pm)
From: Kim - I’ve made none? Am I supposed to be going for tips? (message sent 6:12pm)
From: Dennis - Not gonna eat very well this week if you don’t! Tell ya what, make $100 in tips tonight, and I won’t mess with your brain anymore! (message sent 6:13pm)
From: Kim - What did you do…. I feel funny…. Slow. Bubbly. Did you do this to me? (message sent 6:17pm)
From: Dennis - Haha. Good luck out there! Get your flirt on and make dat monaaayyyy! (message sent 6:18pm)
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To: Don, Jack, Henry, Josh, Dennis. From: Kim - Heeeey boys….. You’re all missing out! There’s so many yummy guys here, I might have to pick another while I wait hehehe xxxxKIMMY (message sent 7:30pm)
From: Dennis - Late again! And I didn’t tell you to say that! Where’d you get those terrible ears from? (message sent 7:32pm)
From: Kim - hehe a cuuuuute customer gave them to me! they were his tip arent they hawt?! (message sent 7:33pm)
From: Dennis - Maybe I overdid it…. No more late snaps! You’re supposed to be be learning a lesson! (message sent 7:33pm)
From: Kim - soz babe donny is coming to see me im gonna drink with him after my shift! i dunno if ill have time for more pix tho kay don’t wait up he said he wants to give me somethin omg fun rytttt!!!!! (message sent 7:34pm)
From: Dennis - No! No! Do not hang out with that douche! You come home straight after work! (message sent 7:35pm)
From: Kim - bossy much? I’m not your property luv and anyway donnys gonna pay! if ur not careful i myt go be his gf insteada urs lol :p hes a total bad boy and im kinda into that (message sent 7:36pm)
From: Kim - have good night cya whenever i make it home lolol mwah! (message sent 7:37pm)
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My cap swap for @evie-hyde I hope you love it as much as I loved yours! xox
