by Tina Majors
Would some of the men just find it too much and have to make their way to a bathroom to vigorously jerk their cocks?
Or was that just what the lower status men would do?
Could it be that the real men, the higher-ups, would see me swallowing the big bend, and think that they should approach me with a view to setting up a personal appointment, on the surface to discuss work, but clearly for the sole purpose of getting my lips around their own banana sized dicks?
Woah, I thought.
I found myself getting a little steamed up from all of these thoughts. In fact, I think without even realising I had actually been making something of a performance of eating the banana.
This wasn’t ideal.
Even though I was becoming more comfortable with the idea of my new situation, I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the extent of what it meant.
I felt a surge of embarrassment again, suddenly becoming paranoid that people would be able to tell just how wet I was, just how unbelievably cock hungry I was, ready to lick, swallow, jerk, as many big, hard, thick, dicks as was possible.
Even though I was still learning about my new body, I knew how incredibly attuned it was to my mind. The connection was so much more intense as a woman than it was as a man. That was both a good and a bad thing, albeit mostly good if I was being honest. The unbelievable pleasure I could experience was mind-blowing, but also I could tell I would have to learn how to control it unless I wanted to be having constant orgasms and soaked panties at any given moment.
In fact, I felt like I wasn’t too far from just cumming right there in the cafeteria. I knew I had to finish the banana and get the hell out of dodge as soon as possible.
Three bites and it was gone, and so was I.
As soon as I was finished made my way out of the cafeteria and towards the glass elevator that would take me up to the fourth floor.
**
I entered the office I had been told to stop in on after I had finished my lunch.
Strange, I thought.
I looked around at the empty office. When I say empty I mean totally bare.
There was literally nothing in there at all.
No chairs.
No table.
No computer or evidence of technology other than a small camera I noticed in the corner.
My curiosity getting the better of me I walked up to the camera to take a closer look. Staring deep into the lense I had a funny feeling I was being watched.
That this could be deliberate, some kind of test perhaps.
Just as I was about to turn around and leave-
WAIT.
DO NOT MOVE.
What the…
YOU WILL REMOVE YOUR CLOTHES IMMEDIATELY, DOWN TO YOUR UNDERWEAR AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Or, actually, maybe I could. This had been a quite crazy day, a truly unpredictable experience, so maybe this was just the kind of thing I should have been expecting.
The voice that was coming from somewhere in the room, a hidden speaker perhaps, was commanding, deep, stern sounding.
I knew it would be a bad idea to not comply with the instructions.
I felt a flutter in my heart, a real mix of emotions, as I began to remove my tight-fit secretarial blouse. My soft, large breasts bounced and jiggled a little as I struggled to get my arms out of the tight garment.
I guess I was still getting used to women’s clothes!
My heartrate went into overdrive as I began to pull down my short pencil skirt. As with the blouse, I had an awkward moment when I needed to step out of the skirt as it rested at my feet.
I almost tumbled over trying to navigate my heels out at the bottom, but luckily regained my composure. I then went to remove my heels but the voice returned.
KEEP THE HEELS ON, BIMBO.
Nervous, somehow totally compliant to this unseen overlord, I stood there perfectly still in nothing but a black, lowcut bra, extremely high cut black panties with a thong back, and, of course, the sleek high heeled business shoes.
I was the absolute image of a slutty secretary, one who was ready to get down to work for her boss, if you follow my meaning.
The thing was, this was closer to the truth than I imagined.
Then, music began to play.
It was loud, a big beat, the kind of hip-hop track you could expect to hear on the radio or in the club. Of course, in the music video you would see curvy babes dancing, shaking their bodies, all for the pleasure of the big ballers in the club.
Wait…
I wasn’t expected to…
Was I….?
DANCE. WORK THAT BODY. SERVE YOUR BOSS. EARN YOUR PLACE.
The voice sounded just as serious as it had previously. I knew I had no option. But, I had never really been a dancer before. My old male body really never coordinated itself to move to the beat, let alone whip and twerk in a way that would drive members of the opposite sex crazy.
I was nervous, it was like I was auditioning for my job… and the criteria was the ability to get my boss hard!
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!
That was the clearest cue I could get. I had to start. Slowly at first, I began to sway my hips a little. Like I say, I had never been a good dancer.
But-
That was as a man.
This was different. I found my body, my entire body, was picking up the beat naturally and totally. Within seconds I was really working myself up into a sweat, grinding my hips, dropping down so low my substantial ass cheeks were practically touching the floor.
I couldn’t deny it.
This felt incredible.
I was using my new femininity to express myself, my new-found sexual urges, through dance.
Before I could question what I was doing, I had removed my bra and released my titties. Not only that, but as I whipped my hips around seductively, I was pushing my breast up to my mouth and sucking on the nipple, instantly making it incredibly hard and sending the message down to my pussy, by now totally soaked, pulsating, hot, that I was enjoying this.
I switched nipples, smiling sensually towards the camera as I did.
GOOD. PUSH YOURSELF SLUT. SHOW US HOW HORNY YOU ARE, HOW MUCH YOU WANT THIS.
I didn’t need any further encouragement.
I turned so that I was facing away from the camera.
In time to the beat I bent forward, giving the camera a full, steady view of my long, curved, slender legs right up towards my larger, sporty, curvy ass cheeks, now totally eating my thong to such an extent it was barely visible.
I knew I wanted to take it further.
My mind and body were in tune, both knowing that I wanted to do my best to impress, to turn on the masculine voice (and the man – or men) behind the voice.
I was committed to making this the dirtiest, filthiest show imaginable.
Slowly, I placed my fingers inside the waistband of the thong and pulled it down, first over my substantial cheeks, down past my thighs, and then off my feet.
I dropped down to the floor, still facing away from the camera, and began to grind and pump my pussy into the floor, twerking, making my booty bounce and rock in time to the music.
As much as I was hoping to get the men off – and I really did hope they had their almost certainly big, meaty dicks in their hands, by this point I was simply focussed on how much I was enjoying the experience.
Each time my pussy hit the floor, I could feel it pulse harder.
I knew I was about to cum.
My first orgasm on camera.
It was on its way now, I couldn’t have stopped it even if I wanted.
At this point the music stopped, presumably so they could all hear my moaning, which by now was long, loud, and totally un-self-conscious. I didn’t care that there wasn’t a beat to work to, I was working to my own beat, the rhythms that my ensuing orgasm was working me to.
“Oooooooh, urggggghhhhh, ooooooooh,” I moaned, in total ecstasy, panting, a
s I came, shudders and pulsations running from my pussy all over my entire body.
The orgasm was explosive and knocked me out. All I could do was lie there on the floor, my face in the carpet, my eyes shutting from the sheer mental and physical exertion.
GOOD. NOW PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON AND PROCEED WITH YOUR DAY’S TASKS. NOW!
I knew I had no time to waste, this show was about pleasing them, my needs weren’t relevant so there would be no post-orgasm rest.
As I dressed, almost like a zombie, my thoughts slowly came back into my brain.
Had I really just brought myself to orgasm, totally naked, my pussy, ass, tits on show for strangers on the other side of a camera?
Was I nothing more than some slutty cam-girl?
One thing I did know
One thing I simply could not deny.
I had enjoyed it – and hoped there was more to come. The more degrading, kinky, and sluttier the better.
**
I had been sent to fetch some stationary.
Despite the claims that this was a highly futuristic and progressive business, they still did use paper.
Hypocrisy?
Well, maybe that is too harsh a way to look at it.
The paper in question was super high quality recyclable stock, and employees were encouraged to think twice before printing paper, with digital electronic communication being the preferred method. I guess the idea of a paperless office environment was still a little way off, so I couldn’t in all due honesty be too harsh.
As I say, I had been sent to fetch some stationary.
A list that included paper, some pens, large marker pens, some tape, and a few other small things.
No biggie, right?
Well in theory no, it should be easy.
Couple of issues though.
Number one, I was still getting used to walking in heels, so there was an element of concern about carrying the supplies back up.
Secondly, despite having been given some instructions on how to access this area, I was still getting to grips with the building and was finding it a little difficult to grasp my bearings. In truth, I had almost no idea where I was.
I could have been anywhere.
The issue was that with such a fluid architecture, all the areas kind of blended into themselves, so it was hard to make a clear take on precisely where you were at any given time.
That being said, there were electronic touchscreens periodically dotted on the walls. These information points had a kind of GPS system that would locate you and point you in the right direction.
Sounds perfect?
Well, the problem is that I was still waiting for my touch ID to be processed, which rendered the information points as totally useless to me. This wasn’t great to say the least in all honesty. I wasn’t going to let this get me angry, or to make me feel nervous.
No, I would have to show everyone that I could be trusted with simple tasks.
I mean, come on, how hard could it be to find a part of a building?
It wasn’t as if I was a total doofus when it came to directions, now was it?
Oh, right…
Yeah, I guess this kinda could become a problem.
I needed to somehow work out where I was. I had been walking for a few minutes and didn’t seem to be getting any closer to the stationary zone. What options did I have?
Okay, I thought.
Yes.
Yes.
This could work.
I walked over to the tall glass window and saw that the car park was immediately beneath me.
No, calm down, I wasn’t going to jump! (Which wouldn’t even be possible due to their being no opening windows).
What I did was work out from the carpark position that I was actually somehow on the opposite side of the building that I needed to be on… and if I continued this way I would eventually, and naturally, come to the stationary zone, which I remembered from the instructions was located on the rear of the building, the area that overlooked the company gardens.
Success.
I felt pride at my logic.
Maybe this company would change me in more ways than one.
I began my walk around and just as I did I heard the sound of footsteps heading in my direction.
Well, what did I expect?
It was an office, a massive one at that, surely there would be plenty of people milling around on some kind of business or other. I guess it was just the sheer scale of the building that could give it a kind of haunted, deserted feel when no one was in close proximity. I thought back to a place I used to work at that was, in terms of floor space, actually bigger than this building.
Now that was saying something.
Honestly, it was enormous.
A throwback building to a time gone by.
This wasn’t the kind of place with glass walls, high ceilings, and wall mounted digital GPS machines.
Heck, this place didn’t even have central heating in some corners of its vast floor-space!
Well, as I say, back in this old cavernous office, decrepit as it was, it actually was possible to hide out when you fancied a break. Such was the state of disrepair, there were areas that were kind of almost no-goes for staff.
Well, one person’s no-go area is another person’s paradise, so to speak.
Everyone had their favourite spots to go and hide, some even stored kettles there to make a cup of java as they did their crosswords.
Seriously, this was what happened.
Slackus-maximus.
Well, anyway, I had found a corner of an old computer room.
You know back when computers took up entire rooms?
This was before you could get computers that fit in your back pocket (I’m talking about smart phones). Well, what had happened was that when these mega-computers had been deemed useless, was that all of the rooms with the large computers were now empty. As a result of the crazy nature of this building, there were no funds and no inclination to refurbish the rooms.
So, yeah, I kind of had my own private break room.
Believe me when I say this, it was a sweet set-up. I had a kettle, a chair, and via the use of my handheld reading device, I had a huge library of books to choose from. My only gripe was that the Wi-Fi in this part of the building had been pretty weak, but it was still strong enough for me to read the news websites I frequented and a little bit of social media screen time.
Anyway, what else I got up to in that room I will leave for you to decide.
My breaks were so long it is only natural that my mind would wander if you catch my drift.
Anyway, back to the new office and my new job.
I heard the steps approach and then saw that it was a young gentleman with a postal trolley carrying what appeared to be office supplies.
Excellent, I was close, closer than I had imagined.
The young man smiled at me, a little embarrassed.
Wow, that was a funny feeling.
I felt myself blush at the complement of a random man smiling at me, himself a little embarrassed at his own emotions shining through so evidently.
He lacked the sense of commanding entitlement of the senior alpha males of this place, that was absolutely for sure!
Anyone, it was a feeling and situation that I supposed I would have to get used to if I was going to stay here.
I must confess, it was a funny feeling, but a good one.
**
The rest of the afternoon had passed relatively without incident. Sure, I had been a bit self-conscious as I bent down to the lowest filing cabinet, fully aware that my perky booty was getting some admiring glances from two IT tech guys carrying out some repairs on one of the junior manager’s laptops.
I had actually fully blushed, which didn’t go unnoticed as I scuttled off, wobbling a little in my high heels.
I looked at my watch and there was only about an hour left before clocking off time. Yes, this had been a crazy day, one that I could never, ever, ha
ve expected. But, I figured that I just needed to go with it, see what happened.
I mean, it wasn’t as if this was permanent?
Even if it was, I would be able to go home, get online and see if there was any precedent for this kind of thing. I could be a real internet sleuth when I wanted to be, so felt relatively confident that I would be able to find something – either about my body swap situation, or further details about this company.
At the very least I would be able to get out of my work clothes and take a moment to check myself out in the mirror…
Just as I was contemplating having a shower with my new body in the privacy of my own home, I received an email alert.
YOU ARE EXPECTED IN THE ELITE SUITE ON THE ELEVENTH FLOOR IN TWO MINUTES.
Suddenly, I got a sinking feeling.
Something told me that I wouldn’t be leaving in an hour, and not only that – far from having a private evening at home, it was very possible that what I was going to be experiencing in this so called ‘Elite Suite’ was going to be far from a relaxing, private voyage of self-discovery.
**
I approached the doors to the Elite Suite and was somewhat taken aback as they slid open, making that kind of sci-fi style swoosh sound as they did. As I entered I felt my legs buckle a little, out of sheer nerves.
Who could blame me?
What stood before me was a man who could only be described as a perfect physical specimen of masculinity, sophistication, power, and dominance.
A strong jaw, perfectly kept hair and a light beard serving to highlight high cheekbones and perfect, dark eyes and ebony skin.
I continued to look him up and down, I just couldn’t help myself! Here I was, not even a full day into being a woman and I was totally drooling over this black God standing in front of me.
I kept expecting him to say something, to stop me from objectifying him like this.
But he didn’t say a word, he just stared at me.
I looked at his wide, lean shoulders, perfect for showing off an expensive, personally tailored Italian suit. I could see that he was packing significant muscle underneath his crisp white, unbuttoned shirt – the kind of heavy lifting required to achieve that kind of physique was leagues ahead of what I had ever been capable of when I was a man.