by Tina Majors
I couldn’t deny it.
I wanted more of that cock.
Not only did I want more of it in my mouth, I wanted it in my pussy, in my ass, in my hands.
Clearly, he was right, I had left behind my male body, and my male mind too. I was ready to serve cock, take it wherever and whenever.
Little did I know that this was about to be put to the test.
“Oi, hey, where do you think you’re going?” Came the voice from behind me as I began to walk out of the kitchen.
I turned around and saw that the head chef, flanked by a couple of sous chefs, was standing with a funny look on his face, like he was expecting something.
“I’ve made my delivery, as requested,” I said. “I need to get back up to the third floor.”
I must admit, I probably came across as a little impatient. It was true, I did have somewhere to be. After the experience of Maxwell, it was a little bit of a non-starter in my eyes to be bossed about by a working man.
Just as I turned back away I felt two sets of hands pick me up by my armpits and swing me around, then walk me over towards the chef.
“Put me down!” I cried out, my voice feminine and a little whiny.
I attempted to wriggle free from the two sous chefs, but they possessed the kind of power a bimbo like me simply couldn’t match.
“Get her up on the table, bend her over the edge!” The chef said, a wicked spice in his tone.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was not impressed at all. Trying to struggle, it very quickly became apparent that there was no way out.
“Now, let’s have a look at the main dish!” The chef said, clearly impressed with his own little wordplay.
I felt his hands on my trousers, his fingers hooking underneath the waistband. I couldn’t believe he would actually go through with this.
It was so humiliating, degrading, and utterly unacceptable.
“I’ll tell Miss Tiffany!” I cried out. “I’ll tell Maxwell! I’ll tell sir!”
The two sous chefs laughed as they continued to hold me in place.
“Shut up, slut!” The chef bellowed. “You’ll take your punishment like a good little bitch.”
I felt my trousers being pulled down over my ass, past my thighs, and left to hang at my ankles.
“We’ll have these off too!” The chef said, roughly pulling my panties right off, the tear of the fabric sending a shiver of fear through me. “Time to spank this bubble butt!”
No sooner had he said it, the spanking began.
Spank!
Spank!
Smack!
Smack!
I let out cries of pain, pathetically attempting to wriggle myself free.
“You’ll stay there, slut!” The chef said, as he rained down his large, wide hand on my jiggling and reddening asscheeks.
“Please stop, please, I’m sorry!” I pleaded. “I’ll do anything if you stop spanking me!”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” The chef said, “You’ll be taking our cocks, and all our sperm at the end of our shift. But now we need to show you what disobedient female members of staff get.”
The spanking continued as I cried out in pain as each spank came down harder than the last. But then a funny thing happened. Instead of crying out in pain, I began thanking the chef, then asking for another spank.
Then another.
Then another.
Then another.
It actually felt like I was enjoying the punishment, getting a kick out of the helplessness of my situation.
Maybe too I kind of felt like I deserved to be punished?
After all, I had been a bit rude, and he was the head chef.
“Please sir, spank me harder!” I begged. “I deserve any punishement you give me!”
“Now she gets it,” The chef laughed. “Well, shall I give her ten more, really set her bimbo ass on fire?”
The two sous chef agreed and the final ten spanks were indeed incredibly hard and fast. I made sure to say thank you after each one.
“Well done,” the chef said. “You took that pretty well in the end. But you’ll be leaving with no panties, and I want to see you crawl out of here on your hands and knees, with your trousers still knocking about around your ankles. You can sort yourself out when you’re out of my kitchen. Now, get out, we have food to prepare.”
With that, he stuffed a banana in my mouth for extra humiliation, and I duly crawled out as instructed. The second I was out of the flapping kitchen door I jumped to my feet and pulled my trousers up. As I was doing the top button up I felt the gaze of the concierge firmly trained on me. He was grinning, almost as if he had been watching the whole thing.
I felt disgusted, but also horny. This was so confusing.
Before I could process my feelings any further, I felt my phone buzz.
Instructions from Tiffany – I had to get out again before she wanted me back up at her office. And, yes, she would be accompanied by Maxwell… and others.
**
I was a little unsteady on my feet. The heat was relentless back out on the street, it had actually gotten hotter, which seemed crazy and almost unbelievable to me.
Of course, my unsteadiness wasn’t only down to the punishing heat, far from it. In fact, it was clearly another kind of punishment that was for the most part responsible.
Trying my best to get back on steady ground, and at the same time focusing my mind, I tried to distract myself.
But how?
You see, such was the intensity of the experience that it wasn’t quite so easy as saying one, two, three – focus!
I decided that what I needed was a stiff drink to calm the nerves.
But did I have time?
I figured I probably did, so stopped and had a look round for a bar I could drop in on.
Well, ever heard the phrase about too much choice actually being a bad thing?
As I walked up and down the street it seemed like the plethora of choice was actually making it damned on impossible to get a drink.
Did I want a cocktail?
Did I want a fusion ale?
Did I want a traditional Irish pub?
I just wanted a quick hit of alcohol to take the edge off is all. Why did things have to be so difficult?
In the end, I walked into a liquor store, and old style Mom and Pop joint, and picked up a small bottle of Old Russian.
You know.
The clear devil, vodka.
Well, it was such a small bottle it would hardly do any damage, would it?
I thought about just downing it on the street but had second thoughts. Sure, it was arguably the biggest city in the world, where anything seemed to go, but I didn’t want any hassle from a keen cop, and nor did I want to risk any hotel staff spotting me drinking on the job. After all, I was only a few blocks away so it wasn’t outside of the realms of possibility that I would be spotted.
I decided to seek out a little enclosed park area I had spotted on my way here.
Yes, I thought, that would be perfect.
Sitting down with a small drink, letting it all sink in.
Trying, if that was possible, to process everything that had happened so far.
Well, it was worth a go.
I walked for maybe two hundred metres and found the park.
Luckily, I spotted an empty bench just as I entered. The bench was perfectly serviceable and in fact was actually rather well maintained. It looked relatively new to me, which was strangely reassuring.
I say down and opened to bottle top.
Not ever a huge fan of vodka, but with a definite appreciation for it, I took in the odour. It was okay, I definitely needed this.
Before I took my long gulp, I looked across the park and watched as a group of college duded played a form of competitive frisbee. They were all laughing and joking as they tossed the plastic disc.
Not bad, these guys have got some pretty serious skill sets, I thought.
I used to play a littl
e at school myself, and I was pretty damn good.
There was nothing to say I couldn’t carry on playing of course, although I would have to get some slightly different sports underwear!
I found myself staring at the college dudes, taking in their tight, flexible, muscular bodies.
Oh no, not now, I thought. I just didn’t have the energy after what had happened earlier.
I changed focus and instead breathed in the air and watched as birds took flight from tree to sky as car horns hooted musically in the distance.
Lifting the vodka to my lips I downed it in two sweep gulps.
There was a kick to it, that was for sure.
I closed my eyes and allowed the hot afternoon sun to radiate and bounce off my face and body and back out into the universe.
Life, the universe, what was it all about? I thought.
There were so many anomalies, so many unique occurrences, so much mystery.
My situation was of course part of that, another change, another shift in how the world worked – and who was I to dispute it or try to change it?
Surely, shouldn’t I accept the workings of the universe and just roll with it? Wouldn’t that save me a lot of stress and worry? Well, I also had to admit that there was an element of my subconscious that clearly wanted this new way of life to continue forever, that if anything, being a woman felt way more natural, far more enriching than being a man ever had.
Perhaps this was the truth, that the way I was living now was always destined to be my way of life?
Just as I was getting all philosophical, I sensed something approaching.
Then, BANG!
“Owwwww!” I protested.
I opened my eyes and saw that the frisbee had actually caught the wind, headed my way, and caught me on the head.
Furious, I looked around for the culprit.
Then, over jogged one of the college dudes.
I looked at the college dude, and immediately I could tell he was sorry.
Of course, it had been an accident.
I mean, imagine living in a world where people thought it was acceptable to intentionally throw plastic projectiles at people’s heads. Well, it doesn’t bear thinking about really, does it? It sounds like something that might exist in a Mad Max style dystopian post-apocalyptic world.
Well, maybe that’s a little bit of an exaggeration, but you get my point, right?
Well, as I say, I could tell he was sorry for what had happened.
Weirdly though, as he mumbled his way through an apology I began to feel a little annoyed at him. I mean, he was kind of saying the right things, but I felt like he could have made a little bit more of an effort.
Well, I’m not going to die on that hill – and I suppose he did at least make some kind of effort.
So what if he wasn’t exactly a poet, a spoken word wordsmith capable of waxing lyrical in order to convey his thoughts?
It wasn’t as if I was either.
As I watched the college guy pick up the Frisbee and casually hurl it over a hundred yards back towards his group, I wondered what he would report back to them.
Would he be talking about how nervous he was?
How he could barely make eye contact?
Would there have been some encouragement from his friends to strike up a conversation with me beyond the initial apology?
Well, I could only speculate on that, but it was something I knew I could expect more of as this new way of life continued for me. I decided to forget about the Frisbee crew and do some more park watching for a couple of minutes. I figured I had a bit of time, so why not enjoy the mellowing buzz from the vodka?
Momentarily shutting my eyes, I listed to the sounds of the city.
Sure, I could hear the song of car horns but they seemed distant somehow. Tuning in, I could hear what sounded like bird song, a chirpy melody that made me feel as if I was taking a well-deserved break in the mountain forest after a hard morning of hiking and steep vertical ascension.
I often thought that I would like life in a rural, spectacular mountainous location. The advantages of living the great outdoor life were numerous. From the obvious health benefits, to the type of no-technology de-stress that would also be possible. That’s not to say I would ever envisage going totally off-grid. No, that wouldn’t be for me to be honest, I knew that I liked to stay in touch with the outside world too much for that level of commitment. But definitely I think living a more detached life for sure had its appeal, one that ebbed and flowed depending on my mood in the big city.
Of course, there was also the issue of who would keep me company in my imaginary, dare I say fantasy, mountain cabin. Previously, I had always thought it would be a buxom, wild at heart country girl with long hair, soft lips, and a body that was necessarily athletic to deal with the terrain but feminine enough to get me going.
Well, what to say.
I guess I would need to change that fantasy now.
I suppose seeing as I was now the babe, I would need to think about what kind of… alpha outdoor man that I would have providing for me, both in terms of our lifestyle and in the bedroom.
My mind now swimming in this fantasy, I could see just the type of log-cutting, bearded, Viking style man.
Tall.
Muscular.
Powerful.
The strong and silent type.
We could tend the land together and then of course I would need to ease the aches and pains for him in the evening. Maybe I would run him a hot bath and then soap him up and massage some essential oils over his lean, muscular body. Gently but firmly massaging his upper thighs, I would move my hand down underneath the bubbles and take a hold of his now hard cock, long and thick, and slowly begin to pulse my hand over it as I watch his pupils dilate in excitement. At this point he would tell me to remove my clothes and get in the bath with him.
I wouldn’t need asking twice.
It would be a large oak bath that he had carved himself in his woodwork shed, and he would use his large, super manly hands to hold me up by my small waist and then ease my soaked pussy down on his cock…
I realised I was getting incredibly turned on by this fantasy and knew that unless I snapped out of it – and fast – I would begin to have an orgasm right ther eon the park bench.
As much as the idea of public exhibitionism was potentially pretty exciting, I felt like I wasn’t quite ready for it yet, and even more than that I really knew that I would need to keep my energy reserves up for later.
I quickly brought myself back into the present moment and just enjoyed the more down to earth pleasure of the park!
Well, I really could have sat there all day, such was my immersion in this fantastical mountain landscape I was creating in my mind. Of course, I knew deep down that I was already dealing with one fantastical development, so my transportation to a summer alpine scene would have to wait for another time.
With no little show of willpower, I lifted myself up off the bench and began to walk out of the park.
I glanced over at the Frisbee dudes and saw that they looked over to me as I walked away, clearly appreciative of what they were seeing.
Well, this had been an interesting day so far, but I had no time for them and knew I should probably get my skates on and make my way back to the hotel.
**
So I arrived back at the hotel and completed some small tasks that had been set for me. Nothing major, just fairly basic stuff. The whole time though, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Of course, I felt the almost continuous gaze of the sleazy concierge and his associates, the assistant concierges. You could almost say that I got used to that.
Well, almost.
I figured that they had heard about what had happened with the chef earlier, and probably they were looking for an excuse, any opportunity, to dish out some of their own punishment on me.
That, I could live without.
But back to the issue at hand. I felt lik
e there was an added dimension of surveliance on me. I looked around and didn’t see any obvious signs of security cameras, of which there were a few in the hotel, following me as I moved.
No, it was different.
I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Anyway, I completed my task and made it up to Maxwell’s office.
Stading in the elevator, I felt a rush of excitement, nerves, horniness, intrigue. You name it, I was feeling it.
Even though it had only been a few hours ago, and I was still processing the whole situation and how it had played out, I definitely felt like it was a life changing moment.
No – a life bettering moment.
It was kind of like I had fallen in love with Maxwell?
Sounds crazy, right?
Well, the way I was thinking was that maybe, it was always my destiny to become a woman. Sure, I hadn’t imagined it would be via a shot of pink serum up my ass, but however crazily it had come about I knew I didn’t want it to change.
All I wanted was to serve Maxwell, to take his cock, to become his.
With this in mind, the elevator door pinged and opened directly into his penthouse office suite.
The lights were set down a little, with some spotlights strategically placed. There was a funky RnB soundtrack playing in the background, emanating from the state of the art speakers embedded into the walls in a subtle, classy way.
“Now,” Maxwell said, making himself visible by walking out from the library in the corner of the suite. “I hear your ass was given a good old fashioned spanking by the chef. Is this true?”
I didn’t know how to answer. I was afraid that Maxwell would be angry with me. I didn’t want to upset him.
“I-I-I,” I stammered.
“Well, who is this getting their booty spanked then?” Maxwell stated.
Maxwell pointed up at the huge projector screen over on the large wall behind his desk. To my shock, a video began to play that showed me being bent over the metal chef’s table, my panties pulled down, and my ass spanked!
“I’m sorry!” I cried out.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was running towards Maxwell and throwing myself at his feet, begging for forgiveness.