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 11/25

Tino finally baulked – unable to maintain his balance on the uncomfortable six-inch heels in the Sicilian August sunshine. His regret was instant and he cursed softly between plump painted lips as the hot metal chassis of his master's car sizzled the backs of his soft thighs. He reached down a manicured hand and massaged the skin just below the hem of his figure hugging mini-dress and gazed up at the mansion before him – his master's house.

“Gino, prepare the car!!” a hoarse commanding voice called down the driveway. A suited man lazily trimming a hedge leapt to attention and started to trot over towards where Tino was slowly baking in the hot afternoon sun. The man paused to hear his boss's follow up order. “And I will be taking Tina out with me!”

Tino's skin crawled at the sound of his new name. It was not the name of a person, but a mere possession. He had once been the heir to his father's legacy – the future head of the family and all it ruled over. He had been promised a life of luxury and power, and instead, he got...this?! He glanced down at his large breasts bubbling out out the top of his tube dress.

His father had been a proud and ruthless man who made many enemies – none more vicious than Fabio Rossi – the leader of a crime family just as powerful as Tino's father's. The two organisations had gone to war and when the Rossi family ultimately came out on top, Fabio swooped in to claim his spoils. Stripped of all their former glory, there was nothing Tino's family could do as he was whisked away.

Nobody saw Tino for months after that. Fabio commissioned an army of surgeons, usually reserved for enhancing the prostitutes who worked for him, to transform Tino into a mockery of his former rival – a voluptuous caricature of a Hollywood idol complete with full pouting lips, round bouncing tits and an ass more than capable of filling the revealing dresses Fabio forced him to wear. Since his big reveal as Fabio's new 'girl', Tino was routinely driven past his old family home to cruelly parade to his father what had become of his son.

“Which car do you wish to use, sir?” Gino called back up to the house.

“On a day like this? The convertible!” came the instant reply. Tino's heart sank in his new silicone chest. The convertible meant only one thing – Fabio wanted to screw him in the backseat outside his old home again to taunt his father.