Whatever Happened to Jonas? Part 2 (Bad Day at the Office)

 

Everyone has a bad day at the office now and again. Jonas had suffered two terrible days at work separated by ten years. He could probably convince himself that the two humiliating nightmares that each ended with him tasting another man's cock could be balanced out by the hundreds of parties in between that resulted in him screwing, often multiple at a time, horny bachelorette party-goers. He had fulfilled many the fantasy of a sexy young woman – whether that be a firefighter, pilot or even the classic gunslinger, all while satisfying his own desires. Jonas was a jack of all trades, and he could get laid dressed as any of them. At least, he had been able to...

A lot had changed in the last ten years of Jonas's stripping career. The internet had gained strength exponentially, and his agency, once resigned to advertising in the backs of dirty magazines, had a full-fat social media marketing machine backing it up. The agency's brand lived and died on the online reviews left by the guests visited by its strip-o-grams so when a five star celebration of Jonas's humiliation at the hands of the remarrying bachelorette and stiff cock of one of her male friends went viral on OnlyFemmes, the agency were quick to exploit it. They didn't care how Jonas was debased by the entire experience - he was just a stripper, and so when the calls came flooding in from horny young women to order a man they could dress in lingerie and have dance for them, they accepted the bookings with open arms and open wallets. It was just another costume, right?

Jonas emerged from behind the curtain to begin his fifth job that weekend. He stared past the crowd of hollering women with dead eyes – including the maid of honor that had dutifully informed him he'd be stripping in wedding lingerie. She had supplied it in an over-stuffed satchel as he arrived and he really didn't think it was going to fit, but of course it had. As soon as it had become clear that these were going to be the type of bookings he was going to be doing for the near future, the agency had sternly suggested he 'drop a dress size' and even given a few boxes of pills that promised to soften and round his figure. Jonas wasn't sure they had but they had definitely shrunk his dick in a way that made the kinds of panties like the tiny white lace pair he was currently wearing, no problem at all. What was he supposed to say?! No – with a resume full of taking his clothes off and slinging cock into drunk party-goers?

The women began to clap in unison and Jonas lifted one hand to his wig. It wasn't glued on this time but his predicament meant it was fastened just as tightly. The lingerie clung to his newly curvy figure and even his inexperienced body could tell it was expensive – all silk and lace caressing his arms, legs and butt. The maid of honor was holding a selfy-stick in one hand and a weird looking bouquet in the other, and had broke away from the thirsty crown to approach him.

“This is for the next part of the show...” She leaned in to whisper in his ear and handed him the bouquet. Up close, Jonas could see what was odd about it – a large dildo and harness had been inserted between the flowers. “It's a joke.” The maid of honor smiled sweetly. “The groom is a bit of a sissy so we're going to use this on you to tease the bride.” Jonas flushed red and stared in horror at the crowd behind her clapping expectantly. “Naturally, the bride will get a go eventually. But, throw that thing in my direction and I promise to easy you in gently.”

Painted Target (an Aiko Story)

 3/25

“Okay, let me see what affect my training has had on your exquisite work, and especially how you choose your victim,” Aiko smiled sweetly at the visibly excited Liza. She started to step into the room, but stopped suddenly at the sight of a bearded young man stood in the doorway alongside her friend. “And, who is this?” Aiko's eyes moved back and forth between Liza and the man.

“Oh, this is Jay,” Liza paused. “My boyfriend! But, you can meet him later. Come, I really want to show you my work!” Liza led Aiko into the room and they both appraised its occupant. A pink creature sat on a love seat, a lollipop in one hand and its face slathered in makeup and fear. “This is the bully formerly known as Kane!” Liza announced proudly and the boy shrank into the pink satin dress he was wearing. “I caught him pushing some kids around in the park,” she stroked the blonde locks on his head that had the synthetic sheen of a wig. “So, I pretended to join in. I gave him one of my lollipops, pretending I had taken it from one of the kids, and, well, the rest is history!” She grinned widely at her victim and then back at Aiko.

“Well done, my Sweetheart!” Aiko beamed. “It seems you have painted a worthy target. “I look forward to seeing how you make him earn another of those lollipops.”

Kane shuddered from his place on the seat. His whole body throbbed and itched. He was sweating buckets into the pink satin panties that Liza had forced him into and his mouth was a dry as a desert. There was clearly some kind of drug in the lollipop, but he was helpless to resist it. The moment the first one had touched his lips, he knew he would need more, and boy had the girl called Liza made him earn it. But, why was she saying he was a bully? That wasn't true at all!? There hadn't even been any kids in the park – just him and a few of his friends throwing a ball around. It wasn't even him who hit that guy Jay with the ball, but Liza had flown off the handle at him right away – shouting and screaming. And then...nothing. She had just stopped like some kind of crazy person. Then apologised and given him a lollipop. If only he had known.

Jay was the real bully. He could tell by how much he clearly enjoyed watching him squirm. As Liza had applied the lip gloss, he had laughed and called him names and then when she had waxed his legs, Jay kept throwing the balled up used strips at his head. But, why lie to this other girl...Aiko? She was clearly in on it – the leader even maybe. And, why had Jay looked at her that way when she turned up. That look like Aiko was the lollipop that he wanted to taste...needed to taste.

Whatever Happened to Jonas? Part 1 (Bad Day at the Office)

 This is a three part Flashback Friday to Bad Day at the Office

Jonas cut a forlorn figure in the mirror. His hands clasped and elbows pressed into the glass, he prayed silently to disappear. Yet when he opened his eyes, the same reflection stared back. After all these years, he had once more been feminised...humiliated...degraded... He couldn't believe this was happening again.

Something had felt off from the moment he had arrived. Bursting through the apartment door to a fanfare of cap-gun fire and sirens while dressed in a rubberised cop uniform, he had not been greeted with the usual face of the mildly embarrassed bride to be and her mischievous cavalcade of bachelorettes – just a crowd of cold expectation. He recognised some of the women, but couldn't place them – at least not until it was too late.

Jonas gazed down in horror at his body – his legs wide and tense like a gunslinger as they fought to hold his balance on the towering stripper heels that had been glued to his feet. As a strip-o-gram, albeit usually a male one, his body had already been shaved hairless and toned, and made a perfect canvas for the women. By now it seemed they had perfected their craft.

They were the same women that had transformed him all those years ago. The bride had divorced her first husband – lucky bastard thought Jonas, and was now remarrying. Her recycled crew of bridesmaids had reassembled and tracked down the poor stripper they had humiliated the first time round for a rehashed bachelorette party, and now Jonas was enjoying that experience about as much as one enjoys ten year old wedding cake.

“Turn around, you dirty ho!” A drunk female voice cackled from across the room. “Come on, put on a show for us!” Jonas groaned and slowly began to face them. He actually wished he could strip for them – wished he could rip off the shoes, the stockings, the wig, the garter, but the women had applied liberal amounts of glue to all the garments they had pulled onto his body as multiple strong hands held him in place. A larger blonde woman had then sat on his chest as the adhesive set. They had since doused him in perfume to hide the glue smell, but Jonas knew it was there. He could tell from the way the fabric tugged painfully at his skin with every movement.

“Dance for us, bitch!” The bride snarled as Jonas strutted over on stiff legs. She was not the horny young woman that had glued a blonde wig to his scalp ten years ago – divorce had twisted her into something cruel and spiteful. She hiked up her mini-skirt and held one hand above her panties expectantly. “I didn't think you would...” She shook her head. “But then again, you didn't at my first party either. What was it you did instead..?” As if on cue, two of the other women led a huge muscle bound man into the room – a grin was plastered across his face. Something struck Jonas across the backs of his legs and he fell to his knees. “No car this time...” The bride shrugged, sliding her hand into her panties as the large man strode towards the prone stripper. “But I'm sure this will still feel familiar...”

The Legend of Harlot's Creek Part 7

 

At first Mikey and Patrick just stood and watched as the Harlot consumed her meal. As they had been, Zeke and Paul were disoriented by the their new forms but the more they examined their new bodies, both their own and each others, the more frantic their movements became and before long each were tenting the bottoms of their bodysuits with stiff erections. The dark woman smiled and guided Zeke's face briefly to Paul's lips and then to his breasts, grinning as Paul reciprocated by pulling the zipper down on his bodysuit. Mikey breathed heavily as he watched the Harlot pull the former men down by their hair until both their faces were above her naked sex, and he felt something on his hip. Patrick's hand held his softly and they locked eyes. There was still shame passing between but also acceptance and after a moment's pause, they embraced and began to undress.

Once she had got her fill, the Harlot snapped her fingers and the mansion reappeared – not as the wreck it had been but as a glittering replica of how it must once have looked. “Remember, I can give you paradise...” She said coldly and left her four pets in a large ornate games room complete with a vintage pool table, shuffleboard and a fully stocked mahogany bar.

“I think you should get used to this...” Mikey sighed and looked down at the two brand new woman, who were still panting from the successive orgasms the Harlot had ripped from them. Their breasts quivered with each shuddering breath they took and their whole bodies glistened with sweat. Mikey turned his back on them, picked up two pool cues from a rack and tossed one to Patrick. “Paradise isn't so bad...” He sent the balls careering around the table with several dropping in the pockets while his friend observed, biting the soft pink of his lower lip. Behind them, Zeke and Paul were clambering to their feet and, after some hesitation, decided that the sexy bodysuits were slightly better than walking around naked. Mikey took another shot, pocketing another ball. He lined up the cue again and shot the white ball across the table. A hand came down stopping it in its path. It was Paul.

“What the hell is this?” He screamed, leaning over the table. “What have you done to us? I'm a... I'm a... woman!?” Zeke joined him at the pool table and both of them leant over it menacingly towards Mikey and Patrick. “And why I am I so...horny?!” He closed his eyes and breathed in heavily. Zeke's glare left them as he turned his eyes to his friend's. There was a yearning in them...a hunger. They were both breathing heavily now...panting.

“It isn't so bad...” Mikey soothed, exposing his big round tits. “It really can feel like paradise...” He mounted the pool table and began to guide Paul's face into his chest as he had seen the woman do. The little resistance there was quickly melted away as Paul groaned, helpless to his desires. “Besides, the more guys we bring back here for the Harlot...the more of us there will be to enjoy it...”

The Legend of Harlot's Creek Part 6

 

After the romp on the fantasy beach, it could have been easy to forget it was winter in Harlot's Creek. The sun was setting over the sea by the time the woman clicked her fingers again. Mikey and Patrick had once more been her playthings, but this time instead of merely watching, she had got her hands on her toys. The boys now trapped in their voluptuous female forms had first served her with their mouths – after letting them sample her breasts, she had removed her tiny bikini bottoms and they had pleasured her sex and ass. When finally they had entered her with their stiff cocks, they had done so as her submissives. They were pushing themselves into her desperately but she was truly in control, milking them with her body for her satisfaction.

“Find me more...” The woman whispered as Harlot's Creek rematerialised around them. “I have so much paradise to give. Find me more to share it with.”

In was morning when Mikey and Patrick left the house. They were still girls, now dressed in figure-hugging fur-trimmed black snowsuits, but the mansion was once again a ruined shell. The night's escapades had robbed them of their lust for the time being and they trudged silently with unspoken shame. They had shared more in the last few hours than two friends ever should and worse still, they knew they would be doing so again before long. Even as they walked in the morning gloom, Mikey's eyes flitted to his friend's ass and fantasy swirled his brain and into his loins.

“So, how are we going to find more?” Patrick muttered once they were off the grounds. “We're going to do it, right? I don't want to...but I need to. I need more.” Mikey didn't reply - he knew exactly what his friend meant. As it happened, finding new subjects for their ghostly mistress was surprisingly easy. After a long day of walking around trying to suppress their desires they walked by a pub on the road that ran alongside the creek. Two men were standing outside smoking.

“You two look like you need someone to keep you warm!” One of the men called out as they passed. Mikey averted his eyes coyly and very soon they were leading the men back towards the mansion. Every few minutes Patrick would glance back at them, his eyes promising the same thing the mysterious woman had – paradise. They had introduced themselves as Zeke and Paul, but the boys knew that within the hour their old identities would be meaningless.

The Harlot was once again in the courtyard though this time she ignored Mikey and Patrick as if they no longer interested her. She only had eyes for Zeke and Paul now. As before she snapped her fingers and the castle melted away until only the snow remained. The boys watched Zeke and Paul melt too, shrinking into delicate feminine figures – Paul became a full lipped brunette in a white bodysuit that barely contained a pair of huge breasts, and Zeke morphed into a slender woman with frosty hair in a tight black outfit. Once the transformation was complete, the mistresses latest creations slumped against one another with exhaustion.

“And now...” The Harlot shot Mikey and Patrick a satisfied glance, acknowledging them for the first time since they had returned with her gift. “...We feast!!”

The Legend of Harlot's Creek Part 5

 

Mikey and Patrick lay exhausted in a puddle of the their own sweat and juices. The leopard print catsuits had long been shredded and discarded, ripped off their curvy bodies and thrown to one side like what they were – obstacles to their pleasure, flimsly lycra barriers to all the thrusting, licking and pounding they could muster from their voluptuous bodies. And now they were spent, seemingly endless orgasms having been ripped from them – from Mikey inside Patrick, from Patrick inside Mikey, from being wrapped around each other in a desperate, bucking version of a sixty-nine, their inexperienced, alien bodies acting on impulse to drive them to be moaning, groaning ecstasy riddled messes of girls. Yet everything must come to an end, and when their cocks finally went limp, their lust dulled, they collapsed onto each other as the woman in black stood over them watching – satisfied.

“We're done!” Mikey gasped. “Enough!” He tried to sit and perspiration poured off his chin and onto his bare breasts. “You said we were yours as long as we were horny. Well...” He lifted his flaccid penis with one finger and let it fall. “We don't want any more.”

“Silly boy!” The tall dark figure cackled, her robes billowing around her. “Your bodies may have had enough...for now, but they aren't really your bodies, are they? They are mine! It's your minds that count. Have they had enough? Can you really say they don't want more?” The woman snapped her long slender fingers and the grassy courtyard disappeared to be replaced by a picture perfect beach. The ruined catsuits were gone too and as Mikey and Patrick slowly climbed to their feet, they found that they were now dressed in skimpy tops, and while Mikey wore booty shorts, Patrick's ass was glad in a tiny pair of bikini bottoms. “See how easy it is for me to give you paradise?” The woman asked, now standing before them in a miniscule black bikini. She snapped her fingers again and colourful drinks appeared in the former boys' hands. “I can give you so many different types of paradise!”

“You can't...” Patrick started but already his resolve was melting in the hot sun. He felt himself stiffen in the bikini bottoms. The woman terrified him but he couldn't ignore the way the shiny material clung to her curves, or the way the sunshine reflected in her firm pale skin. Something soft touched his hand and he looked down to see Mikey pushing his soft fingers between his. Clearly, Mikey was beginning to feel stirrings too.

“So much paradise...” The woman reached behind her back and suddenly her bikini top was falling to the sand exposing her round breasts. Mikey stepped forward and she guided his mouth to one of her nipples, gripping his cock beneath the booty shorts with her spare hand. Already Patrick was stepping forward to join them. “All the paradise you can desire...” The woman whispered. “All you have to do is bring me more like you...”

Double Shift

 2/25

Detective Collier pulled the unmarked sedan into the strip mall lot and killed the engine. “You’re kidding me,” he muttered, staring at the storefront wedged between a laundromat and a vape shop. A pink neon sign buzzed faintly above the door: “Maison de Plaisir — Maid Café” The windows were frosted, the glass painted with cartoonish lace trim. It would have looked ridiculous if Finn hadn’t just seen a mansion full of broken men in French maid uniforms.

Pam checked her phone one last time, scrolling through the surveillance stills that Vice had managed to pull. “Same uniforms. Same hairstyles. We think she rotated some of the mansion victims out here.”

Finn rubbed his temple. “So what—you’re telling me she’s running a front business? Like… what, normal customers come in here for lattes and cake while these poor guys prance around in heels?”

Pam’s expression was grim. “Exactly that. Customers assume it’s a gimmick. Half the city thinks it’s cosplay. Nobody looks past the makeup. These guys would have been working shifts until the cows came home if one of the customers hadn't recognised their missing husband.”

They stepped inside. A tinkling bell announced them, and the smell of sugared coffee and baked goods hit like a wall. The interior was absurdly bright—pastel walls, frilly tablecloths, and chirpy pop music humming from hidden speakers.

And then the “staff” appeared. “Welcome, Masters~!” sang a chorus of delicate voices. Five waitresses lined up near the counter, their curtseys rehearsed to perfection. But Finn’s gut twisted.

Pam whispered under her breath. “Christ. Look at them…” A blonde maid broke from the line and trotted toward their table, clipboard pressed to her frilly apron. Her posture was immaculate, her high-pitched greeting flawless, but her gaze lingered too long on Finn, pleading, begging, before snapping back into trained cheerfulness.

Finn forced himself to breathe. “They’re working here,” he muttered. “Not chained. Conditioned enough to serve coffee to strangers like nothing’s wrong.” The afternoon passed showly as the detectives supervised while police officers processed the brainwashed maids one by one and transported them back to the station. Finally, just two remained. “What's their story?” Finn nodded to a nearby policeman. The final two maids were dressed in the same satin apron and stockings as the rest of their colleagues, but these two had locked lips and seemed not to be willing to separate any time soon.

“Poor bastards!” The officer shook his head. “They must have gone through hell. My guess is whatever the Governess put them through drove them together - all that mind fuckery distorted into something else. We're going to have to process them together.” The man looked up at Finn and Pam and removed his police cap. “You need to catch this bitch fast...or God help us all!”