by Tina Majors
As we walked to the meeting room, I felt a surge of nerves, but strangely enough it was accompanied with excitement, an anticipation of what was to come. It was something about the words she had used: slutty, aire-head, eager to please, that rung around in my head.
I couldn’t deny it, and certainly my cock couldn’t either, I was definitely turned on for some reason.
But why?
What was the reasoning behind my excitement?
I was about to find out, and I was about to realise that it’s always a good idea to read the small print.
**
I entered the room one step behind the receptionist, who had now introduced herself to me as Kylie.
All the way up the lift I had been struggling to keep myself from checking her out, drinking in every curve and nuance of her amazingly beautiful body and face. To be honest, my mind had kind of skirted over the traditional fantasies and I had begun to go to a place that I had found myself more and more recently.
I had started fantasising about what it would be like to be her as opposed to be in her.
It was at this point in the elevator that she had turned to me, almost as if she was reading my mind and said something along the lines of that I would soon be living out my dreams, my deepest, most intense fantasies. This had taken me back, surely she shouldn’t read minds?
Well, I was moments from finding out.
“Here is the new starter,” Kylie said, pointing towards the large, metallic table in the middle of the room.
Sitting around the table were a group of incredibly impressive looking individuals.
Men and women.
Expensively tailored.
Phenomenal bodies, the air thick with success, power, elegance, authority.
I didn’t know what to do, I felt so small in their presence.
I attempted to wave my hand to say hi. Sure, quite a pathetic gesture really, but I guess I was nervous. Well, before I could even get to a full wave I was shut down by what appeared to be the senior woman on the table.
“That’s quite enough of that,” She said. “Well, I must say you certainly have a lot of what we are looking for.”
What did she mean?
What was happening?
I sensed a sudden change in atmosphere in the room.
The remaining people on the table picked up their tablets and began to look at the screens intensely, touching the screens, seemingly as if they were designing something or adding the finishing touches to some kind of group project.
This was getting weird.
I decided that now was time to make like a banana and split.
I turned around.
Then it suddenly got hazy.
Wobbly on my legs.
What was happening-
What-
Wh-
I felt myself fall, cushioned by someone who I couldn’t quite make out, but an individual who certainly had strong, large, manly hands.
It seemed like I was out for hours, in some kind of deep, almost cosmic, sleep. The dreams I had were intense, charged, vividly erotic, each dream overlapping the next. There was something different about these dreams though. It felt as if I was experiencing some kind of endless orgasm, one after the other, two at a time, a surge of energy that I had never experienced as a man.
In this dream, my hands were running all over the body of the most sensual, curvaceous, sexed up female body I could ever have imagined. I felt my fingers push up into the hottest, wettest pussy imaginable.
It was a truly incredible experience.
Then, just as I was about to see this incredible woman’s face, I felt myself coming around.
Slowly.
Eyes opening.
Bright lights.
In the presence of others.
Where am I?
What is-
“He’s coming round!” A voice cried out.
I managed to focus my eyesight and saw that it was the woman who had spoken to me as I had faced the table of company bosses before I passed out. I squinted my eyes and saw that her name was Melanie Hocks-Rhodes.
“Fancy a look at the new, improved you?” Melanie said, a look of satisfaction on her face.
Hang on.
What did she mean by the new me?
What did she mean when she said improved?
I didn’t have time enough to consider what exactly I wanted, or what was possibly going on before I felt myself being raised up. I looked to either side and saw that I was suspended by elastic ropes on each arm and by the ankles.
Aside from this strange sensation, something didn’t feel normal.
I just couldn’t put my fingers on it.
“Show her,” A man said, an especially handsome man, clearly the alpha on a table full of alphas.
Her though?
Then it happened.
A large 3D holographic projection screen was activated, and it appeared to show an incredibly hot, totally naked woman, writhing around, bound by thick elastic ties just like the ones attached to me.
Now, this woman was a phenomenon.
Large, but sculpted breasts. Model material.
A tiny waist, perfectly trim, the kind that is normally only possible after hour upon hour in the gym.
A thin strip of dark pubic hair leading down to perfectly presented, glistening pussy lips.
Then incredible thighs and buttocks. Slender, with a perfect amount of curve on the hips and thighs, and then a big, juicy booty that was jiggling the ideal amount as the woman thrashed about, seemingly unsure of where she was in this situation.
Hang on, I thought.
The woman on the holographic projection was moving just like me…
The woman on the projection also seemed to be in a very similar room to me…
The woman on the projection screen was… me?
At this point I was presented with a physical mirror, held up to my face.
My face.
Perfect cheekbones, plump lips, long blonde hair, made up like a classic bimbo.
I felt my body spasm. Part in shock, part in sexual ecstasy.
“That’s it,” Melanie said, now standing next to me, holding what appeared to be a large, black vibrating dildo, running it over my inner thighs, up towards my pussy.
“W-w-w-w-w-what, the… ooooh… hell…. Ummmph… is happening?” I said, panting, moaning, in total confusion but totally turned on, ready to blow my lid.
“What is happening, you bimbo,” She said, “What is happening is that you have been selected, transformed, and are the latest horny body swap bimbo on our company employee roster.”
I tried to digest this news but found the onset of the first of what turned out to be many orgasms just too distracting to properly process my thoughts.
“That’s it, let it happen,” Melanie said, pushing the vibrator around my pussy, all over my clit – yes, my clit – as I bucked and moaned, slowly letting loose and allowing wave after wave of orgasm to come over my body, just like had happened in the dream when I had passed out.
As I came time after time, each as intense as the last, the alpha boss began to explain what was happening.
“You, slut,” He said, “have undergone a transformation that we have been developing over the last year or so. Future-tech that allows us to convert beta males into their true selves, cock hungry women who desire the feel and power of an alpha man or woman to dominate them. This is your true now, here with us. You have signed the contract, and as has been explained to you, the consequences of reneging on that deal would not good for you. Don’t worry, you’ll have fun. We will work you hard, in every way you can imagine. But you will have your true desires fulfilled. That’s it, scream and moan in true ecstasy, this is just the beginning.”
In that moment I had a second of clarity in between orgasms. This man, this muscular, strong, beautiful man, was absolutely right.
This was just the beginning.
**
Still in shock at what had
gone down, I took a seat and made an attempt to carry on as normal.
I looked around the large cafeteria and couldn’t help but be impressed by the clean, airy feeling of this large expanse of space. It was kind of revolutionary to invest so much money in staff dining, but clearly this was a company that did not do the normal, the expected, the standard corporate behaviour.
What made this cafeteria extra special was that it had a retractable roof on the extension that would automatically pull back when the weather allowed.
I’ll repeat: a retractable roof.
This really blew my mind – which given the situation you would think would take some doing. I had worked in some terrible places previously, real low down, minimum effort, low budget offices that looked like they belonged in another century, and certainly not at the forefront of twenty first century design and architecture. Normally what I also found was that there was a direct correlation between how awful the architecture, internal and external, and how awful the work environment itself was.
Makes sense though, right?
Think about it.
The more drab and dull the space, the less motivated you will be. And logically, this would surely apply to the managers also.
Sure, they should rise above it, think of their high wages, and not take it out on staff, but how often have you had an ear-bashing from a manager who is clearly very unhappy themselves?
That’s right, it’s a good point isn’t it?
Well, as I say, I was sitting down now, about to have my lunch in a clean, smooth environment, so much so it would almost qualify as futuristic.
I took out my lunch pack and opened it.
Standard sandwich situation.
I’d loaded up on fresh, colourful products to fill the two slices of bread. I figured I would need the energy, and clearly I was correct to have done that.
I often thought that lunch was an overlooked meal.
Don’t believe me?
Well listen to this.
It’s half way through the day and unless you have super human endurance then surely your body will need a re-up on the vital nutrients it requires to continue functioning.
My point is this: if you try and power on through when you are under nourished and hungry then all this will achieve is you mood will worsen, as will your performance, and you will ultimately end up over-eating when it comes to your evening meal.
Do the math, it can’t be a good thing.
What I find works pretty well is to have a good, high impact lunch time meal, not too big and certainly not hot (that’s the last thing you want), that will tide you over until you can sit down, either in or out, and have that evening meal.
Now when it comes to the evening meal I would say, go crazy and eat a good sized portion and don’t worry. The only caveat I would add would be to not leave it too late before eating. The last thing you, or anyone, should be doing is going to bed on a full stomach, all bloated and sluggish.
No, that is absolutely not the way forward, and you will feel the after effects the next day, I absolutely promise you.
But I digress.
As I began to tuck in to the crisp, fresh sandwich, I attempted to distract myself by thinking about what television shows had really got me revving recently. We were, after all, living in the golden age of high quality production values, box sets, and big name Hollywood actors committing their talents to the small (or not so small, if you’ve seen some of the monster beasts available for purchase) screen.
Who would have possibly predicted this a few years ago?
Don’t lie, no one would.
We’re talking about an era where TV has gone from backwater zero to top level hero.
Sure, I get it.
Not all television is created equal, and there is still more than a fair share of absolute rubbish that wouldn’t look out of place in a substandard alternate universe where chimpanzees produced television for a living instead of their regular life of gang warfare and collecting bananas to eat.
Actually… hang on.
Maybe that would actually be a pretty neat show? Chimpanzee gangsters.
Sounds far-fetched?
Well, we’ve got the technology to pull it off, I am sure.
Hey, maybe another time I should actually pursue that.
Who knows, I might even be nominated for an EMMY award (TV’s equivalent of the Oscars).
But, back to the topic.
Yes, it is true we are in the golden age of television and in theory then it should be so easy to find a constant supply of top level series to watch.
But here’s the kicker.
I am not entirely convinced that this is the golden era.
Because every time I try and watch a series I am left feeling a little turned off by what seems to be a paint by numbers approach to plot, character, and overall feel. I am not quibbling about the impressiveness of the budget or production values, there are all pretty decent, even in the terrible shows. What gets me going (in a bad way) is how boring a lot of it seems.
Is that just me?
Prove me wrong.
Go on, name a truly excellent TV show on now.
Okay. Name another.
Now another.
Now another.
See? Gets tough, doesn’t it?
Well, this is just my two cents and as I say, I am no expert.
Not really.
Give me a series that has enough ups and downs and possibly even reach-arounds, and I’ll be happy. I will be sitting there with my bucket of popcorn and a drink, sometimes alcoholic sometimes not, and I will laugh and concentrate for the full sixty minutes over the course of each episode. But, occasionally I suppose I just want more, want better.
You know?
Maybe this actually is some kind of deep insight into my psyche. Beneath the outer surface, a look into what makes me tick – and what doesn’t. Could it be that in my search for perfection I have been missing the real me? This would certainly explain my mixed feelings towards what I had experienced so far. I suppose what I really could do with, if I believed in such rubbish, would be a kind of guru figure to help me process all this.
I guess though, I would just have to learn on the job.
Truth be told, I had a feeling I might be too busy in a combination of enjoying myself and the adrenalin of something so shocking and new to do any kind of deep analysis.
Even thinking about it made me blush.
I picked up my sandwich and took a large bite, fully aware that this day was far from over and I would need every single nutrient in this humble creation.
Well, you know what they say.
‘You can’t keep putting off what is inevitable.’
I think it’s an old Chinese proverb or something along those lines. I normally don’t go in for that kind of thing, call me a cynic, but I have found that actually a few of these ancient sayings do carry a fair bit of weight to them.
Weird, huh.
I guess sometimes with age does come wisdom.
Now not everything ages like a fine vintage edition wine of course, often what is perceived to be wise in one era will seem absolutely and totally crazy a generation or ten down the old evolutionary line.
I mean, come on. They used to believe the earth was flat!
Anyone dissenting to that wisdom in public would likely find themselves being tortured to death.
Can you imagine?
Trust me, you don’t even want to go there.
Now of course, we know that the earth is a kind of round shape. But who knows, even this could be disproven in a couple of hundred years.
Well, they do say time is a cycle (they being some people, I am not claiming everyone subscribes to this particular strand of time theory).
Wait. This is getting very deep and totally scientific, far much so for my liking. The point here is that I knew I had to get back to work, that my time enjoying the simple, delicious sandwich was coming to an end.
I looked around my
surroundings and noticed some spectacular paintings on the wall.
Huge, highly excellent portraits of the board of directors.
All powerful men, classically buff and in well-tailored suits.
I guess I found it a little intimidating because I kept looking away, unable to stare for too long before getting a funny feeling.
I guess deep down I knew what this meant.
But, hey, this was all still so new to me.
Well, just as I was about to stand up and leave, knowing full well it was the right thing to do, I remembered that I actually had a couple of pieces of fruit to eat.
How could I have forgotten?
And there was no way I was going to leave two incredible and nutritious pieces of fruit that would provide me with my needed energy for the afternoon.
I had a funny feeling I would need every single drop of energy imaginable.
I quickly crunched through my apple and despite eating it quickly the quality of the fruit was such that I still really got a kick out of its fresh, zesty flavour and texture.
I really was a big fan of apples, and if I had a gun to my head would probably have always listed them as my number one fruit.
Then it was time to eat the banana.
It was possibly not quite ripe enough, which meant it was very strong. This, combined with its substantial size, made me feel very self-conscious as I ate it.
I could feel myself blush, and maybe I was being paranoid but I could feel glances being cast my way.
Such was my embarrassment, I didn’t look up.
I couldn’t deny that there was something undeniably erotic about eating the fruit. Of course, there was added context now, in my current situation. But, what was I going to do, void eating bananas from now on?
No, I knew that it was something I would just have ot get used to.
In fact, as was happening, I almost felt like this was something I could possibly embrace.
I mean, if horny men enjoyed watching me eat a big, thick banana, then what was wrong with that?
If anything, wasn’t it a kind of compliment?
The more I thought about it, the more – in theory – I felt like this was something good, a sign that I really was perfectly cut out for my new role, my new body, the new me.
I just imagined the stirrings in the pants that my luscious lips slowly accepting the banana in my mouth would cause.
