Sally is unlucky, and she could really use a break.
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Lady John. Has Miss Levering come down yet?Butler (pausing C.). I haven't seen her, m'lady.Lady John (almost sharply as Butler turns L.). I won't have her disturbed if she's resting. (To herself as she goes to writing-table.) She certainly needs it.Butler. Yes, m'lady.Lady John (sitting at…
In debt up to her ears, she needs to pay off her college to attend her next semester, and she only has a week to do it. It seems an impossible task, until she comes across a gig online that promises her a small fortune for five days of modeling. She's never been a model, but her new employer, Marx Franco, assures her amateurs are welcome.
What seems an innocent enough offer, soon takes a perverse twist after the contract is signed. Now Sally is under Marx's control, meeting his demands that seem far beyond what the job should call for. But the money is good, and with no other options, she makes excuses for the situation.
That is, until the shakes she's required to drink begin to transform her.
Plump lips, long silky hair, and most shockingly for the young woman, breasts that would fit a porn star. Her new, full chest is causing her trouble, making her tingle and spiking her arousal in ways that are far from normal.
But Marx loves it, and his photography of her keeps getting more obscene. She thinks she can handle it all, yet when one of her photo shoots involves a milking machine, Sally is beyond shocked.
With no escape, can she endure the five days of intense, strange pleasure without losing herself in the hypnotic music, brain chemicals, and sexual addiction?
This 15.8k word erotic BDSM tale involves several kinks that some may find offensive, such as body transformation such as breast growth, erotic hypnosis, forced lactation and milking, reluctant and uncontrollable orgasms on a mechanical bull, and humiliating photos and blackmail.
FOR ADULTS ONLY
The top was a tiny little plaid shirt, tied in a knot and barely keeping my big breasts in place. There was no bra, and I was almost grateful, honestly; my chest was feeling rather tender.
My hips and ass were shoved into a miniscule pair of jean shorts, and though I wore a black thong, I didn't think it made things better. It stuck above the shorts, looking trashy as hell, and when I moved the jean material dug into my cheeks and exposed far too much rear end. With the calf high cowboy boots that looked like they had mated with stripper heels, the outfit was obscene and ridiculous.
I stepped out, and Gerald set a western style hat on my head.
Correction, now it is beyond ridiculous.
He showed me myself in a mirror he had brought, and I thought the blush he had added to my cheeks was unnecessary. I was red as a beet. “It's what Marx wants,” he smiled, before I could voice a complaint.
It was probably true, for when I walked across the grass back to the bull, my employer gave me a grin full of pride. It made me swell a bit with joy, but it was a hard battle to fight down my pure humiliation. Was this what I had signed up for?
“Alright, get on the bull, and we'll get to work.”
Nervously, I hoisted myself onto the mechanical beast, feeling the tiny shorts dig in further with my thighs straddled so wide. The bull was big, and unlike anything I had really seen before. The saddle felt strange, not entirely smooth, as if the section I was sitting on was almost ridged. It pressed into the junction of my thighs, no matter how I shifted around.
Gripping the horns, I gave Marx a look, unsure what to do next.
“Just hang on, smile, and I'll do the rest.”
I assumed he meant he'd take the photos, and wasn't expecting him to hit a button, bringing the machine to life.
I had seen mechanical bulls on television, they always rocked around violently and threw people off. When the one under me began to hum, I gripped on hard, terrified I was going to be tossed into the grass. Instead, the saddle began to shiver, and though the device did rock side to side, it was gentle as a kiddy ride.
Blinking, I saw Marx lifting his camera, and I gave my best smile.
That was when the machine began to vibrate between my legs.
What the hell?
I was confused, and as the trembling increased, incredibly aroused.