Inescapable Pt. 02 of 02

He let go of a breast and used his hands to push her dress down past her waist. She started fumbling at his belt, but he broke off and spun out of her grip. Her expression became bereft for a moment as she stood there in panties and stockings and heels, reaching helplessly for him. But he smiled and shimmied and took off his belt, then slid down his pants, exposing a banana hammock that was bulging. There was a kind of collective sigh...

Chloe knelt before him and kissed that bulge. Then she pulled the brief briefs down and away. His cock was only slightly above average, but now there was a collective gasp. While the awe might have been exaggerated, the sheer lust it engendered in the crowd was entirely authentic. My panties were soaked.

Chloe started sucking him desperately, like a drowning woman snatching at a lifeline. It was his turn to breathe deeply, but before long he pulled out of her mouth. Then, in swift order, he got her up and laying on a couch, relieved her of her underwear, and plunged into her dripping snatch. She screamed and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in.

We were all staring in shock, mesmerized and avid, some moaning softly. I and Jessie were softly, apparently unconsciously, rubbing our nipples and crotches through the fabric of our dresses.

They came. As you might guess, it was dramatic. Perhaps even melodramatic; Chloe was not at all subdued. As he pulled out, there came a delicate moment. How we acted at this juncture was critical. We had to maintain the mood.

Jessie was closest. She knelt down in front of him to 'take him in hand', staring in amazement at her own stroking fingers. More "ohmigods" and other, coarser expletives were uttered as the girls exchanged uneasy glances - to the effect of, "Are we really going to do this?" But no one tried to stop her. In seconds the apparent misgivings had faded, and the pair had an invested audience.

I was so invested that before long my skirt was hiked up and I was rubbing my pussy through my panties. My colored hair and tattoos bespoke a level of impulsiveness, so it had plausibility. And this gave the other girls cover to gradually up their own game.

Riley was usually the hair-dyed and tattooed one. (The under-the-table I saw that first night was hers.) For tonight's engagement, she was a plump - of course - bleach blonde with dainty hands. Those hands had extricated a small vibrator from her purse and removed enough clothing to put it to good use. The only woman not self-stimulating in some way was Melissa. She was frozen, unable to look away.

Jessie and the client got to an explosive climax. Riley and I didn't exactly fight for who went next, but it was clearly a competition. Riley still had some clothes on, whereas I was naked by then. Unburdened by clothing or a vibrator, I got to him first. He was barely out of her before I had my mouth around his member.

I wasn't the top cocksucker at Gerry's. LaShawna was a fucking genius at it. But, false modesty aside, I was one of the smartest girls. I'd learned fast, and I had the advantage of knowing what they felt like on the receiving end. It only took him a couple minutes to get hard again. I can't take all the credit for that, though. Magic helped, plus being the center of attention for a lustful crowd of women was, obviously, kind of a turn-on for him.

Once he was good and stiff, he pulled out of my mouth and lifted up on my shoulders. After my transformation, I was too hefty to just manhandle. Since I wasn't fighting him at all, though, he maneuvered me into his desired position with no trouble.

I was bent over, ass up and elbows on a couch. He plunged into me from behind and began pumping, claps sounding as his belly and hips hit my new bubble-butt. It felt strange, being so much more... hefty than before. But I felt... comfortable for him. Padded, upholstered. And his dick, ramrod straight for the third time that night, told my kink that he loved my form, so I was thrilled. And when he shot off, I was ecstatic.

Riley and Reika got fucked in turn - Riley between her tits, and then Reika from behind, like me. He was slowing down a smidge by then. Still having fun, though. All of us bridesmaids were cheering him on. And conspicuously pleasuring ourselves or one another.

The client wrapped up with Reika, leaving her collapsed and panting on a couch. He was breathing pretty deeply himself. Nowhere near what a guy who'd just come five times in a row should have been, though. I'd have suspected drugs if I hadn't known about magic.

Therefore, it wasn't very long before he set his eyes on the 'bride'. If Chloe had been a mouse to his snake, Melissa was a rabbit staring down a drooling wolf. She wasn't frozen, she trembled with confusion and need. He stepped - stalked - closer, as his cock lifted yet again.

Jessie spoke up after a few seconds. "Melissa, come on! You gotta try him!"

Riley chimed in. "Fuck, Mel, he's amazeballs! I never came like that! Not even with my Rabbit!"

"I'm getting married tomorrow..." she wailed. But her eyes never left the dick hovering in front of her.

I stepped up to her. "Mel. It's your last chance." I pulled her hand, lifting her up off the cushions. "You gotta." She stood, then fell to her knees before him. He smiled, almost cruelly, and rolled his hips. Clearly lost to his fantasy, no self-doubt or misgivings anymore.

Her resistance blew away like dust in a strong wind. With a moan, she leaned the few inches forward and ran her tongue up his shaft. Several of the girls were rubbing their twats, transfixed with lust. Chloe and I were rubbing each other's pussies, and kissing, but kept stealing glances as he plowed Melissa. Soon we were joined by Riley. Jessie and Reika began making out.

He took his time. It was several minutes before he took her on the plush carpeted floor, skirt hiked up and panty-crotch shoved to the side. Mel's innocence had vanished, a wicked leer lit up her face as she relished his every thrust. "Oh fuck oh fuck fuck me fuck me fuck me..." she chanted.

He came with a roar, a tenor note anchoring the alto and soprano groans, shrieks, and cries as everyone in the room orgasmed at once. I grasped now why Emperor jobs were so popular. Fucking a series of guys was excellent, but focusing on one man and making his wet dreams come true... that was a special treat.

Remember the security guards I mentioned before? Maybe you're wondering why they were willing to sign up.

Gerry had thought carefully again. He had to screen applicants aggressively, but he had a unique benefits plan. In return for at least a year of service, they got paid well, and received bodies on a par with Captain America - strong, fast, tough, with incredible endurance, which they could keep after their term so long as they agreed to keep quiet.

And they had plenty of time for martial arts practice, or time on the gun range. Since they couldn't be tempted by us, we couldn't be tempted by them. We were friendly, but only friendly. You might expect that would limit the takers, even with the other considerations. Why bother working at an ice cream shop if you don't want sweets? And you'd be right... except Gerry had one more thing to offer as an incentive.

A retirement party.

On their last day, they got the Emperor's Room for the night, and their pick of the girls. And an entire year's unleashed libido in a body powerful enough to express it. All of Gerry's Girls looked forward to those nights.

Tonight, Tony was saying his goodbyes. And he'd picked a series of girls to enjoy. Astonishingly enough, I was one of them. He knew who I'd been, but wanted me anyway? It got me wet, thinking of lust so strong it could overcome such reservations.

On the top floor, near the service elevator, there was a little dressing room for girls to get prepped for an entrance. Tonight it was an undressing room; he wanted his ladies au naturel. Clarissa was in there as I arrived, putting on a robe.

"How's it going? Any tips?" I asked.

She wore a satisfied smile. "He's still going strong. Seems to like starting out gentle and gets kinda heavy at the end."

"Thanks," I said, filing away the info as I ditched the lacy nightgown I'd worn on the elevator ride up. I inspected myself in the mirror for any makeup issues or cruft in my hair.

I passed inspection, so I draped my hair over my breasts and down my stomach. If I leaned my head forward the ends just covered my pussy. Sometimes it was more about what you concealed than what you showed. The chance of an accidental reveal could often be more exciting than letting it all hang out.

I stepped - almost strutted - through the door. Off to the left, Tony sat naked and at ease on one of the couches around the 'lounge pit'.

Obviously he was a physical specimen. Almost any heterosexual woman would have felt her heart flutter. His dark hair was cropped short, but longer than a crew cut. There was a manly amount of body hair, he wasn't plucked clean like a model; but neither was he a gorilla. His muscles were ample yet didn't bulge; they were hard and sharply defined, not grotesque. Same for his cock; it was generously sized but not - quite - intimidating.

His physical charms did nothing for me, however; I wasn't actually a heterosexual woman. What I appreciated was good cardiovascular health and stamina, plus libido and confidence. That is to say, I was looking forward to a guy who would have zero trouble getting it up, and keeping it up. His dick was limp for now, but I knew that would change soon.

"Hey there," I said, archly.

He just stared at me for a moment. "Hey."

Something was wrong. He was looking at my face, my body - a heterosexual male almost couldn't help that - but not the way he should. Abstract, not concrete. Like a guy looks at a naked statue. Sexy, maybe, but not something you could do anything with.

I tilted my head - and my hips - slightly. I had a confusing sense that I needed to get things going quickly, or things might not get going at all.

I stepped closer. The smell of sex was in the air; he had unquestionably been busy. I was doing my level best with my walk and my face, but his dick remained stubbornly limp.

He held up a hand for me to stop. "I saw you when you came in the first night. I got you dressed after Collette took you out." He shook his head. "And then you were a sucking cock like a pro the next fucking day."

Yes, something was definitely wrong. He kept going. "Before, it didn't bother me much. It was funny." His head lowered, he gazed up at me. "But now I got my mojo back. Got some perspective." He scoffed. "How could you let him do that to you? Were you a fag before?"

Sex wasn't going to happen, obviously. He was just... disgustedly curious. I wasn't horny anymore, I was irritated and ashamed. And a good chunk of that shame was because I felt disappointed and frustrated. So I was all acid as I replied, "No." I even went on the offensive. "Were you castrated until this morning?"

He sat up sharply at that, glaring. "I was still a man."

I almost blurted, 'so am I'... but it wasn't true in any way he'd accept. Struggling for an alternative, I stammered, "You... don't know what it's like... I didn't choose this."

He wasn't impressed. "Yeah, you did. The ring can't make you do anything."

At that, I recovered some will. "Made you leave more than three dozen gorgeous, horny, experienced 'sluts' alone for a couple years."

He took a deep breath. He was getting angry - and I suddenly felt stupid for challenging him. He was the kind of guy who'd never hit a girl. If he decided I was a man, though... he was probably a full order of magnitude stronger than me.

But then he sat back and took hold of his tool. "And you can't leave these alone."

I couldn't keep my eyes from following his hand as it stroked up and down. Was his manhood stirring? Maybe? "That's not fair."

"Go ahead. Choose to walk away." He slid his foreskin back a bit.

I nearly did. But I stared just a second too long; I had just started to turn when I realized his prick was getting stiff. I was drawn back.

He laughed. "You really can't do it, can you?" And his prick lifted a bit.

That tore it. I understood. Or, at least, suspected. I thought I saw a way to get him going. If I'd still despaired, I could have left. But knowing that the option existed...

By now, seducing was a reflex. It didn't take any conscious reflection. I bit my lower lip, the angle of my hips shifted, et cetera et cetera. Not all at once; my collapse was gradual. A progressive loss of self-control, over several seconds. An act finely calculated to arouse.

He'd seen that act thousands of times before in his time as a Gerry's Guy. It shouldn't have worked. Before, though, he hadn't had the vulnerability of a libido. Now he had the same motive other guys did to buy the act. And he did.

Besides, it became less of an act, over those same seconds - since it worked. His dick got hard. My guess was right, he enjoyed my weakness. Which automatically made me want to be weak. Which could be dangerous...

"You want this?" he asked. "Get on your knees." Was there a trace of huskiness in his tone?

I dropped. "Please, don't..." I whined. "I don't..."

"Shut up. Pussy."

I had a handle on him, from gossip and the incidental interactions we'd had. He wasn't a bad guy. He had a lot of respect for women, and wanted to protect them; otherwise Gerry would never have hired him. But he had kind of fixed ideas of how men and women should be. Old-fashioned in some ways. As far as he was concerned, men had a duty to honor and care for women. Women had the luxury of that protection and nurturing, to carry out their own necessary functions.

It was kind of like the attitude of many soldiers toward civilians. They took pride in putting their lives on the line to defend others, considered it honorable. But they felt it made them superior to civilians in some ways, too. That also meant a man accepting womanhood was fleeing that duty, like a soldier deserting their post.

So here, before him, was a sexy creature who deserved, in his mind, to be humiliated. An outlet for desires he'd normally never consider acknowledging, much less indulging.

"Beg for it." He stood, and his cock stood out from his crotch.

I didn't say anything. I just gazed with longing at his shaft.

"Beg, bitch."

I broke. "Please," I whispered, reaching toward it. "Please let me..."

He batted my hand away. "No."

I turned and fell forward. I was on my hands and knees, raising my ass to him. My hair slid to either side. "Please, fuck me, oh God please! I need you to fuck me!"

I heard and felt him crouch behind me. "Oh, you want this?" he said, and the tip of his dick brushed against my lips. I moaned, "Yes, I need it, please..." I pushed back, trying to envelop him.

He slipped back and gave me a good spank on one cheek. "Nuh uh, bitch. You don't move."

I melted down onto my elbows, but kept my rump spread and available. "Fuck, oh fuck, you've got to do me, I can't stand it, oh God please..."

He knew I'd been a man, not three weeks ago. And here I was, desperately whining for him to fuck me doggy style. He wanted me to feel humiliated... and I did. And the more humiliated I felt, the more it got his rocks off. And that drove me wild.

We were caught in a loop. The more I debased myself, the hotter he got. And the hotter he got, the more I wanted to debase myself.

I kept pleading with him. "Fuck me, stick it in, oh God I need it, please oh God please..." I was trembling slightly. I had a great ass; I was very confident he'd crack soon.

And again I was right. He roughly grabbed my hips and shoved into me. "Here you go, cunt! Take it all!"

He slammed into me again and again, almost brutal, with little appreciable regard for my feelings. He wasn't completely out of control - he'd probably have broken my hips, otherwise - but he was definitely punishing me. Taking his pleasure from me.

And I loved it, screaming in mixed pleasure and pain. The pain, indeed, making the pleasure more intense. Shrieking and moaning so he'd keep doing it.

Abruptly he pulled out. With one arm, he flipped me over onto my back. The rug was deliberately padded, so it didn't hurt, but it took my breath away for a moment. Naturally my legs were spread.

In that moment, he got on top of me. He penetrated me again, but one hand covered my mouth. I could still breathe through my nose - smelling his fingers, he'd definitely been playing with many women tonight - but my cries were muffled as he thrust repeatedly, giving me a serious pounding.

He locked eyes with me. I could almost hear his thoughts. 'You're helpless. I can do anything I want to you and you can't stop me. This is what you chose. This is what you are now. A toy for men, that's all.'

He came and I squealed in humiliated, submissive ecstasy. It went on for longer than I expected - he was enhanced and optimized, after all. For a few seconds, he stopped, panting - even he was out of breath. Then he got up and walked to the bar, wetting a washcloth to wipe himself off.

I laid there for a time, limp. He looked my way and said, gruffly, "Get out of here." I could tell he was embarrassed, and using anger to cover that up. Just like a man.

I climbed to my feet and left, walking funny. The door was closed behind me as soon as I was in the hall.

A lingerie-clad Riley seemed a little startled when I came into the dressing room. We were familiar with all different kinds of "just been fucked" looks, and she hadn't been expecting the "rode hard and put away wet" style from an encounter with Tony. "What happened?" she exclaimed.

I sighed, and said, "Special, uh, circumstances. It's cool." A shade sardonically, I said, "He's probably gonna want to be gentle and take his time with you. Be a lady." As she absorbed my words, I added, "A naked lady."

She understood that, and began unhooking her bra. It would be a little tricky for her - it's not easy to put out a 'lady' vibe with her tattoos and piercings and dyed hair. But I knew she could pull it off. I picked up the nightgown, and made my way to the elevator, lost in thought.

We had learned things about ourselves, and each other, that we weren't proud of. We'd brought the worst out in each other. I think we were both glad we wouldn't see each other again. And I resolved to never get near a serious sadist before I was a man again.

But holy fuck had it been hot.

Halloween at Gerry's Place was next-level. Customers had to pay a large fee to get in that night, but it was all-inclusive. Dinner, dessert, drinks, entertainment, and all the girls they could fuck until midnight. (Although, in practice, few guys made it past two.)

Gerry seemed to really enjoy it. He got to let his creativity range free. Costumes could be impressive as fuck with judicious use of magic.

He had transformed my hair yet again; still the same length, but now black with white stripes, styled into a windswept mane. Even the tuft of pubic hair over my shaved lips had stripes. Some body paint - which the ring turned into tattoos - and I became a zebra girl. A buttplug gave me a literal ponytail. (The ring couldn't give us non-human traits, sadly.) The only other thing I wore were white and black wedges - very steeply sloped, of course, to give my ass a wiggle. As I walked, they clattered like hooves.

There were other animal themes. Melissa was a splotchy cowgirl; her breasts were, for the night, producing milk and her nipples were oversized and fat. Anong was a fox, with a cute bushy tail. Jessie was a rabbit, wearing bunny-ears. Collette, hair curled in ringlets, was - what else? - a French poodle. Chloe had orange-and-black lingerie that matched the monarch butterfly wings she wore with a little headband with antennae.