Whatever Happened to Paul? (Sharking)

 This one is such an old one - Original Caption

Paul hated Fridays. Ladies' night was always extra busy in the club and Johnny the Shark expected him to bring home the goods. The women's bathroom, where he would spend most of his night, milled with traffic and the walls were lined with mirrors giving Paul a reminder of what he had become from nearly every angle.

Success can be dangerous. Eleven years ago, in this very nightclub bathroom, Paul had successfully collected an assortment of clothing from his sister and her friends and pulled them on in one of the stalls convincingly enough to evade Johnny the Shark's goons waiting outside. However, Paul's escape was short-lived. He still owed money and when Johnny caught up with him, he was armed with rumours of how exactly Paul had got away that night. The Shark had grinned a predator's grin as two of Johnny's men held Paul in a chair and explained exactly how he was going to be making back the money he owed. Success can be dangerous if you prove you can successfully hide out convincingly in a women's bathroom to a loan-shark looking for a way to sell drugs at the club on Ladies' night.

“I thought I would find you here!” Paul didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. He could see Amy's reflection in the mirror, an amused smirk plastered on her face. She had been one of the girls that leant him clothing to escape all those years ago, but, still, he had never liked her much. She was smug and mean and even suspected she was the one who told Johnny how he had slipped by his men. Paul slid his flask of bourbon into the tight bust of his dress just above a heart-shaped cut out. In his platform boots he towered over Amy, but she rounded him with the confidence of a lioness stalking a gazelle. “I was hoping you had a little something for me?” She smiled. “Well, I know you have a little something...” She winked at his crotch that was barely concealed by the impossibly short skirt of the dress where his nylon clad legs stretched from beneath. “But, I think you know what I mean...” Paul rolled his eyes and felt a fresh wave of humiliation as he saw how catty it had appeared via his reflection. He tried to give Amy a stern look, but with his thick painted lips and heavy makeup, it just looked like a pout. Finally, he gave up and reached a handful of French-tipped nails into the other bust of tight dress and pulled out a small ziplock bag of pills to give to Amy. He held out his other hand for payment. “Oh, I don't think so...” The girl exclaimed in mock surprise. “Unless, you want me to tell those beefy security guys outside what you're doing in here. Trust me, girl, you don't want to be on your knees in here!” Amy glanced around the floor in disgust before accepting the pills from Paul's outstretched hand.

Paul watched her skip out of the bathroom with the drugs safely in her panties and he was alone again with his reflections. He started to play with his wig. He always did this when he was stressed en femme. It was degrading how Amy had treated him, especially given she had once been his sister's friend, but it was nothing compared to what Johnny would do to him if he couldn't come up with a good reason why he hadn't taken payment for some of his merchandise...

Lara Lake's Last Lament Part 2

 10/25

This is part 2 of a three part Mannequeen story. Part 3 will come later in the season and the entire Mannequeen series is in order on my index page.

“Isn't the Mannequeen supposed to be Detective Lake's case?” Detective Finn Collier asked as he continued to put up police tape around the upstairs bedroom in Wesley Tanner's mansion. The bodysuited figure of the house's owner was still writhing on the bed as they waited for backup to arrive.

“That's what I heard,” replied Detective Larsson from across the room, “but Vice have had their eye on Wesley Tanner for years on suspicion of sex trafficking. This could end up being an inter-departmental tug-of-war. From what I've heard, he might just have got what he deserved.” She opened the door to the en-suite and cried out in alarm. “Sweet Jesus?!

Detective Lara Lake was sat on a marble stool staring at her new bimbo-esque body in the bathroom's large mirror. She was blonde now, with huge full tits stuffed into a latex top. A throbbing resonating through the floor and into Lara’s bones. Her chest tightened, her hips shifted involuntarily, and a strange warmth pooled low in her belly. She tried to sit up, to reclaim her posture, but each movement felt heavier, more deliberate, and more… pleasurable. She tried to call out, to explain, but her voice just wouldn't come.

“Shh,” the Mannequeen's voice cooed inside her hesd. “You’re learning. You’re supposed to feel this.” Lara’s alarmed eyes darted to the two officers near the door. Their expressions were polite confusion—they assumed she was flustered, distracted, maybe even embarrassed. No one saw the subtle tremors running through her body, the flush creeping up her neck, the involuntary sway of her chest and hips. And yet, in this first stage, there was still a sharp edge of resistance—a fragile shard of Lara Lake that recognized what was happening. The officers outside would never understand. To them, she was just… embarrassing herself. But Lara knew the truth: she was a pawn, already in play, and every heartbeat was another step toward a fate she had once orchestrated for others.

She saw her reflection again, it caught her attention, and she froze. Even her eyes betrayed her—a hint of wildness, laced with longing and fear, shimmering behind the carefully blinked lashes. The transformation wasn’t complete, but it was unstoppable. She shivered, a tremor of anticipation, guilt, and arousal. With one final attempt Lara tried to communicate to the detectives and raised a hand to point at her mute throat wrapped in a twinkling choker.

“Does Wesley have a girlfriend living here?” Detective Collier asked his partner. “She seems to be intoxicated with something.”

“I have no idea,” Detective Larsson answered, “but I will get her processed.” She placed a gentle hand under Lara's arm and raised her to her feet on the high-heeled boots. “Let's go, sweetheart.”

“Relax,” the Mannequeen's voice whispered again in Lara's head as she was guided from the room by the female detective.“It’s only just begun.”

Whatever Happened to the Hot House? Part 2 (Hot House)

 

Harley tried to glide across the red carpet naturally but his gait seemed as forced as the smile plastered on his face. As head show-runner of the new hit reality show 'Hot House' it was normal that the paparazzi should gravitate to him – it was the annual television awards after all, and yet they buzzed around him for a very different reason. Hushed whispers were shared by the members of the press. Was this a stunt? Some kind of promotion for the new season of Hot House? Harley flushed as they snapped picture after picture, wishing for the carpet to transform into lava and swallow him whole – hideous outfit and all.

He could see himself reflected in their huge lenses. It was like a Christmas fairy had vomited all over him. The thick glossy pantyhose were only marginally less eye-catching than the glittering bodysuit that hugged and squeezed his figure into something he could never have imagined possible. His lips were painted to match his outfit and the rest of his face was caked in enough makeup to make his smile feel like it had been rendered in concrete. And yet, as he stood there a public spectacle, the national gossip rags getting their fill of a story that would no doubt run and run and further inflate the notoriety of Hot House, the nation's latest obsession, Harley knew that it was what was beneath the garish outer-layers of his outfit that was the source of his humiliation.

When Hot House ended prematurely, it had been Harley's idea to make a grab for the remaining contestants' social media accounts. And why not? It was right there in their contracts. The social media accounts would be returned to the show's winner upon culmination of the series – except the season didn't officially end and there was no winner apart from the company's shareholders. Rules were rules...

Keeping the socials for 'all' of the contestants was his downfall. He had thought some of them might come to his office to beg so when Emi knocked on his door, he thought nothing of it. When she poured herself into his lap, he drooled with anticipation of how far she might be willing to go to get her accounts back. He had been thrilled as she slowly stripped off his clothes, breathing softly in his ear as she covered his eyes and pushed his head back. He had moaned heavily in anticipation of ecstasy – right up to the instant he heard the antiseptic click of the cold metal device being locked over his scrotum.

From that moment, Emi had him by the balls – quite literally. Reacquiring her social media accounts had just been the beginning and she had set about transforming him into the sparkling creation that now simpered along the red carpet of the award show..

“Harley!” Someone shouted from behind the camera. “Are you aware of the clips of you Emi has just posted to her OnlyFemmes this evening? Some spicy stuff! Emi is claiming she is going to be running the new season of Hot House. Are you able to confirm? Will all the contestants end up looking like you? Harley?! How are you expecting to get contestants to sign up for that?!”

The Belle Ringer Part 3

 

Sometimes plans just play out perfectly. Todd wouldn't describe himself as lucky – he had just spent the last year being crafted into his sister's extremely feminine trojan horse after all, but the beauty pageant itself had been a huge success. Sure, he had spent the evening in a seemingly endless procession of humiliating outfits – his sister had been stationed backstage to help him change between rounds from the pink dress he had started in to a black one-piece bathing suit that left nothing to the imagination except his expertly tucked manhood, then another figure hugging spandex outfit for his pole-dancing performance in the talent round, and finally an outrageously sexy red dress that put end to any debate on whether Lauren had been adding hormones to his food throughout the year. Twelve months of practice at girlhood positioned Todd well in the contest and he could now walk in heels, twirl and flick his hair on instinct, but it was the talent round where things really came together.

Todd and Lauren's sabotage from the night before found the girl with the juggling clubs striking herself in the face during her performance after misjudging the flight of one the batons. By the time she came out for the final round, a heavy black welt had started to form around her eye. There were similar fates for the girls dancing with the hoop and the roller skates causing another girl to need crutches to walk out for the finale. In contrast, Todd expertly used months of classes to gyrate and twist suggestively around the pole. Of course, it was degrading and he wanted the stage to eat him whole every time he stuck his ass out, but at least he got through it unmamed. By the time it came to the judges' final decision, there was only one realistic challenge to his crown and it eventually fell on the town's mayor to split the decision. Todd actually squealed with delight as his lapdance from earlier in the evening came up trumps.

So then why after all that was he still wearing the sexy red dress from the final vote? And why, oh why, was he in the mayor's hotel suite? The time for Lauren to stand up and reveal their ploy had surely been immediately after the decision, when the crown sat on his head with the whole town watching. Yet here he was hours later with the winner's bouquet still clutched nervously in his hands having been whisked upstairs by the man he could now hear singing in the shower. Todd shuddered at the thought of his experience on the man's lap as the room's phone rang. Cautiously, he scooped up the receiver and heard his sister's voice. “Lauren,” he hissed. “Get me out of this. What are you doing?!”

“Hush!” She cooed. “Just let this play out a little longer. The town is already ours – their precious beauty pageant has just been won by my brother in a dress. But, I want that sleaze-ball mayor to pay personally. He tried to molest me and then kicked me out when I refused. I want my revenge and you will help me get it. Just get him in a compromising position and I will run in with a camera.” She hung up just as the mayor walked out of the bathroom with his gown open. Todd forced a demure smile as he wondered how far Lauren would let things go before she intervened. Based on the last twelve months, his hopes weren't high...  

The Belle Ringer Part 2

 

The club was unrecognisable from the night before. The long shadows and dark corners were gone and the whole room was now lit up like a carnival with streamers hanging from the ceiling and colourful balloons littering the dance-floor. Todd, on the other hand, still resembled the knockout blonde he had been yesterday. Lauren had picked out a cute pink dress for him made of a stretchy faux-woollen material with matching gauntlets and a soft-satin skirt. It was sickly in its sweetness and Todd had wanted to vomit the first time he saw it. Parading himself in front of the whole town while wearing it was certainly going to be an ordeal. He had mentally dubbed it the last dress he would ever wear before Lauren reminded him that the beauty contest would feature several costume changes. Still, he was nearly free. Finally...

“In there...” Lauren eased him away from the main festivities where the stage was still being prepared and towards a quieter room with few people and a bar. “There is still work to be done to make sure you win tonight...to make sure we win tonight... I have spent the last year turning you into hot shit, but remember, this is a beauty contest – and beauty is in the eye of the beholder!” She pushed Todd into the room and remained outside. He scanned the bar area's few occupants and immediately knew what he was here to do. A sick feeling formed in his stomach.

“Well, well, well...” An overweight man in a tie belched from a seat next to the bar. “If it isn't one of tonight's hopeful starlets! Why don't you come over here and take a seat? ”Todd recognised the man as the town's mayor and more importantly, one of the evening's judges. He knew any wrong move would ruin everything and potentially end in Lauren ruining his life with that video of him smoking weed. Reluctantly, he tottered over in his bejewelled four-inch heels, feigning shyness by playing with a lock of his bleached hair, and began to sit in the seat next to the man. “I'm sorry, I seem to have given you the wrong idea...” The mayor smiled coyly. “I meant here.” He patted his lap with his free hand. Todd smiled politely and before he could chicken out, he lowered himself onto the man. “Oh, this is very nice...” The mayor chuckled and pulled Todd deeper into his lap. He could feel the soft material of his skirt riding up and before he knew it, only the silk of his panties separated him from the man's lap. Two strong arms wrapped around his waist and something hard probed urgently between his asscheeks. “Very nice indeed.”

“I think I am starting to understand why you hate this town so much.” Todd muttered to his sister when he finally left the room. Shame at being so publicly degraded weighed heavy on him and a queasy feeling sat in his stomach. To think, after that, he still had to perform for the mayor and other judges like him. “I feel dirty doing that to get ahead. Hey, is that why you got disqualified last year? For trying to get an advantage like that?”

“No!” Lauren said coldly as she reorganised his skirt and brushed at his hair. “I was disqualified because I refused to do that...”

The Belle Ringer Part 1

“I still don't get it...” Todd muttered as he surveyed the darkness of the club around him, knowing that in just one more day it would be all lit up and he would be the central attraction. He played with a lock of his long blonde hair nervously. “If you hate this town so much, why do you want to win their annual beauty pageant so badly.”

“I see you are really getting into the dumb blonde persona...” Lauren sighed at her brother. “I'm not going to win their pageant – you are!” She chuckled as Todd blushed. It was truly something that after a year or this, she could still embarrass him. “I can't win. They banned me from competing, remember? But not you! Not my stupid pot-head brother. Just imagine how humiliated they will be when they find out that their tinpot bimbo parade was won by a guy. It will be the end of their stupid tradition! Even if you are hot...”

“But...” Todd began, but he had nothing. He knew by now when arguing with his sister was pointless. She had been preparing him for this for almost a year – a year of makeup, growing out and bleaching his hair, a year of walking in heels, a year of Lauren adding what he was sure were testosterone blockers to his food, a year leading up to tomorrow night. Lauren's creation was almost perfect – he was almost perfect - a cute blonde in a figure hugging white dress and legs to die for. He just needed to keep going for one more day and it would be all over. His year of hell would be over. All he had to do was make a spectacle of himself in front of the entire town. “But...what if I don't win?” He said finally.

“Oh, you're going to win!” Lauren replied confidently. “We both know how motivated you are. You hold up your end of this or that video I have of you and your friends smoking weed goes online and your college offer goes bye-bye. Besides have you seen yourself? Of course you have...” She waved her hand in a manner that implied Todd was hot and he blushed once more. “That said, we are here to remove all doubt.” She gestured to the nightclub around them. “This might be a club tonight but tomorrow its going to be pageant central and I just happen to know that a lot of the props are already here in preparation.” Lauren led him by the hand behind a curtain and sure enough there were boxes tagged with the names of several of the beauty queens. It quickly became apparent that they contained items relating to the talent portion of the show. Lauren immediately set about looking for ways to sabotage each of them – unscrewing part of a juggling slightly, bending a hoop, loosening the wheel on a roller-skate.

“Isn't that kind of dangerous?” Todd's heavily made up eyes flitted between his sister and the boxes.

“Not as dangerous as what will happen if you don't win tomorrow!” Lauren snapped. “If I were you, I would be more focused on your talent!” Todd blushed for a third and deepest time. Of course he was focussed on his talent. How could he not be? A year of pole dancing classes where you were the only guy left an imprint – even when everyone else though you were just another hot blonde in spandex...

 

Slot Shaming

 9/25

“Hey!” Gus spied the enormous figure of Bruno passing the open door of the surveillance suite and summoned him inside. Bruno sidled up behind his diminutive boss, who was perched on the edge of a stool like a budgie in front of a wall of monitors. Each screen depicted live footage of key areas of the casino's main floor. “Looks like Malone is up to his old tricks!” Gus tapped the central console. Bruno leaned in and then squinted, a puzzled look forming on his face. Malone was a notorious local swindler with a penchant for rigging slot machines, but the screen Gus was drawing his attention to showed an elegant young woman in a colourful form fitting dress sat at a row of slots.

“She's cheating?” Bruno frowned. His boss nodded and adjusted something on the screen's settings. The image changed and suddenly everything electronic within shot emitted a blue glow. “I see it.” Bruno exclaimed noticing the pistol shaped device in the woman's hand for the first time. “It's an electromagnetic trigger – exactly like the one Malone uses to stop the reels on the jackpot. But, I don't get it. Where is Malone? And who is the broad?”

“Watch.” Gus grinned like a Cheshire cat and dialled up the sensitivity of filter showing visible electromagnetic fields. Within seconds, the entire outline of the woman's body glowed blue like some kind of alien. “Do you see?” Gus asked. “It is some kind of realistic bodysuit device. That is Malone!”

“What the hell?!” Bruno's jaw dropped open. “But...he looks like a babe... Should I go grab him, boss?”

“Not yet,” Gus pressed his fingers together pensively. “First we send Bubbles.”

On the casino floor, Malone waved the magnetic device across the side of another slot machine and the siren of yet another jackpot rang out triumphantly. He grinned at the symbols all lined up and realised that this time he could see two of each. He blinked and then squeezed his eyes together. Even the facial muscles on this bodysuit felt real. It had been a convenient disguise - UltraReal bodysuits had vendors up and down the strip. Vegas was where people came to escape themselves after all. In his case, it was to escape his universally blacklisted face across every casino in town. He swayed on his stool and noticed for the first time that Bubbles the waitress had left him yet another gin and tonic. The high-roller treatment was nothing new to him, but that was seven now. Saluting his latest jackpot, he raised the glass to his plump lips as the room sloshed around him. A heavy, hairy hand fell onto his bare shoulder and spun him around. Through one half open eye he spotted a gold name-tag that read “Bruno”.

“Seems it's your lucky day!” the brute grinned cruelly. “Hurry!” He guided Malone up off his stool onto swaying legs. “You're due in the champagne room in five minutes. Lot's of horny guys just waiting for you to rub some of your luck off on them...”