by Tina Majors
I felt nervous but for some reason just went along with what he was saying. It wasn’t like I was some kind of compliant bimbo.
Or was it?
Was my physical change also a mental on some levels too?
He showed me into the so-called dressing room. But it was actually just Jackson’s office.
“Well, a dressing room is a dressing room,” Jackson laughed. “Unless you’d like to get into costume out there in front of everyone?”
He then handed me the costume, a tiny bright yellow bikini that would leave barely a single thing to the imagination.
I couldn’t believe it.
I held it up in front of my eyes.
“I can’t wear this!” I exclaimed in shock.
As I ran my hands over it I couldn’t deny that as scandalised as I was by the prospect of wearing this, it was actually turning me on. The thought of flaunting my new feminine, hot body in front of a load of gawping, horny customers and workers was actually sending me into some kind of sensory overdrive.
“Right, come on, I’m not paying you to stand around,” Jackson said.
And with that I began to take my male clothes off.
I paused and waited for Jackson to leave and give me my privacy. He simply stood there, his hands on his hips and stared at me.
Here was a real alpha male who knew what he wanted and how to get it.
I couldn’t believe it, but I was getting more and more turned on. I could feel my pussy getting hotter and wetter.
I was even imagining what he had in his pants.
How big it was.
How wide.
How hard!
This was getting out of control.
I continued to strip.
This was the first time I was seeing myself naked and I almost forgot that Jackson was there. I looked at myself completely naked in the large mirror and gasped.
I ran my hands over my slim torso, plump breasts, and curvy thighs and ass cheeks.
I took a sharp intake of breath then as Jackson put his hand on my shoulder. I tried to move away but who was I kidding. I wouldn’t have been able to move even if I had wanted to. I could only physically do what this alpha God would allow.
“Listen bimbo,” Jackson said. “We haven’t got long before you go out but I think I’m going to give you a little warm up to get you in the mood to show off that body.”
With that, he picked me up and carried me over to the large and comfortable sofa in the corner of his cool office. He laid me down gently and got on top of me.
I was in heaven, he was so handsome and strong.
And I was powerless to stop him, not that I wanted him to stop.
I felt his hand go up my leg and gently part my legs.
Oh my god, it was happening.
He gently eased his fingers in and out, the wetness I could feel on his hands as he rubbed them over my nipples was incredible. I probably would have cum right there just from that had he not flipped me on to my front and began spanking me.
He didn’t hold back either.
“You take these spanks,” He said. “You take them and you remember that I am paying you to do a professional job for me out there. Any screw ups and there will be a lot more after we’re done.”
It was at this point that I knew this was an alpha male not to be messed with. Without thinking I promised him I would do my best and I arched my so that my booty was bigger and easier for him to spank.
I began to say thank you sir after each one.
Suddenly the spanking stopped and he flipped me back on to my front.
“Right, get this in your mouth and work for me slut,” Jackson said.
He pulled down his trousers and it was easily visible through his sexy white briefs that he had a massive cock.
And not just massive, but hard too.
He pulled his pants down and the monster cock sprung to life, taking a moment to settle into position as it bounced around.
Jackson then leant forward and I could see the dick coming my way.
I had fantasised about a moment like this, and now I was a woman it was really happening. I opened my mouth and took the cock in and began to slurp, bob, lick its impressive form with everything I had. I’m sure it wasn’t perfect, but it felt so instinctive that I could see I was doing a decent job. Jackson quickly began to begin pushing his cock further and further, and I could sense he was getting excited as when I grabbed his magnificently muscly butt cheeks I could feel they were super tense.
And then it happened.
Whooosh, I felt his hot cum fly into my mouth.
Jackson pulled his dick out quickly and began to spray his seed all over my face. As it slowed down he grabbed my head and made sure to rub his massive, slightly sweaty dick all over me. It was like he was an animal making his territory and all I could do was submissively take it, so turned on, so happy to be a woman under his control.
“That’s it, take my big dick you little bitch,” He said.
Once he was done he simply stood up and ordered me into my bikini. He calmly informed me that I was to spend the next few hours standing in the front window of the showroom, alternating my position from squatting to simulating cleaning, to squatting again. Once I was done, he also had some errands for me to run in town.
He was using me as a real life sex-doll maid.
It felt humiliating but a massive turn on.
“And when you’re done,” He said, “you’ll be back in here and I’ll give you my full evaluation.”
I knew what he meant, and I couldn’t wait!
My new life as a bimbo was so far shaping up to be absolutely incredible, I could only hope that I would perform well enough to get a full-on bimbo orgasm. I would soon be finding out, but not before I complete my work tasks…
**
It was time to make my way back to the car dealership. After the experience with Jackson I had had to do the modelling stuff, which was a real turn on being drooled over by passing customers and set my mind thinking of hard dick inside me, in my mouth, all over my body. Then after that it was out in the car to run some errands. I really couldn’t believe this was in my job description but like a good little bimbo I just went along with it.
I opened the car door and put it in gear before easing away gently and moving up through the gears. I had to confess that the car was a great drive, providing the kind of smooth motion and comfort that you would normally associate with something way more expensive and upmarket.
I was impressed.
As a way of distracting myself from getting too much in my head, I turned on the stereo with ease.
It was the first time I had used it and was taken aback by the quality, namely just how rich the sound was, how full the base notes, and overall just how well quality clarity was being achieved, the kind of quality you would associate with a top level elite system like Bose or that other one, what’s it called, Bango Oliver? Bang Bang Son?
Well, whatever, it was a great sound.
I changed stations until I found some calming classical music. I settled on some classical digital station, yes the radio was digital DAB, and tried to let my mind go with the music, while all the time retaining concentration on the road of course. I had been getting more and more into classical tunes, there was something about them that I found pretty relaxing.
Maybe it was the lack of lyrics?
Maybe it was the rhythmic sweeps that could keep you in a moment of reflection and calm bliss for as long as the note played?
Maybe it was just something a bit different, who knows?
But, yes, I did momentarily drift away from my earlier experience, Mozart (or it could have been Blaken or Botacelli – hey, I did say I wasn’t an expert!) and his gang in the orchestra doing its job to absolute audio perfection.
It was warm outside and the cabin began to heat up a little, so rather than risk sweating in my clothes I decided to turn on the air conditioning system. I was perhaps a bit disappointed that
the controls lacked an intuitive touch but managed to sort it out after a bit of fiddling. I was cooler, but not too cool, although I knew full well that this was unlikely to be the case for too long after I arrived at my location.
Perhaps it was best to keep the temperature in the car as cool as possible to counteract what would happen later?
Hey, that isn’t really how temperature and body temperature works is it?
If only life was so simple, but human design is unique and doesn’t work like some square’s office spreadsheet.
I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t done the online weekly food shop before leaving the house. What an incredibly annoying thing to do, further compounded by the added annoyance of remembering the error. What do they say about a problem forgotten?
Hang on, is that even a saying?
Anyway.
I momentarily contemplated turning around and returning to do it. I had my standard order saved on the app and it would only take a moment to press the order button and it would all be done. Very convenient and a good way to actually save money because it means you don’t end up in the shop or shops being tempted by all the so called special offers (that you don’t actually want or need to buy) and multiple pack deals that purport to be huge savings but quite often will only represent a tiny reduction per unit purchased.
Well, I realised that it wasn’t an option for me to turn around now and decided to continue on my journey and do the food order later – even if this meant that I would` almost certainly miss out on my preferred delivery time and probably even have to wait a couple of extra days if I wanted to get my slot of choice.
Well, I guess this is a classic example of first world problems isn’t it.
I felt a little ashamed at being so spoilt, after all there were millions of people in the world who didn’t have enough food to eat and here I was moaning that I might not be able to get my almost fully organic, healthful food delivered at a specific time to my door. The delivery driver even offers to bring the food in for God’s sake!
How spoilt is that?
Really makes you think.
But, on the other side, surely it’s the responsibility of society as a whole to sort out famine, and individuals cant possibly beat themselves up constantly because they get their food delivered.
Oh well, the things you think of when you’re trying to keep your mind of a certain other thing eh? The mind is a mysterious instrument, the brain works in ways more complex than we have yet to fully understand.
As I drove along the double-laned road I did my standard mirror checks so as to ensure that traffic wasn’t encroaching on me, that should I need to break I would be able to safely do so, and also as part of a general safety routine that is, or should be, advised when you learn how to drive. Everything looked good, and I continued in sixth gear, kind of like a gear you use to cruise at a steady speed, typically on motorways or dual carriageways.
The classical music on the DAB radio continued to play but I must admit its calming effect had sort of worn a bit thin and I found my mind becoming distracted somewhat. I made the choice that a change of music was required. Initially, I attempted to do this via the voice recognition service but all that seemed to happen was that I would get an error message telling me that my command was not being recognised.
This was pretty annoying, I mean: if the technology is good enough to install it should be good enough to work ninety nine percent of the time. Am I wrong about this?
Anyway, I changed the radio station manually and found some pop hip hop that was mildly appealing, a catchy beat and some lyrics that alluded to various criminal and sexual acts in a way that was able to get past the radio censors.
I used to be really into hip hop, gangster rap to be precise, as a teenager but had found my interest waning over recent times. I think I just got sick of people faking it and talking about cars they didn’t actually own and that’s not even getting into the misogyny that didn’t sit well with my taste as an adult.
Oh well, call me boring but I don’t think it’s right to commoditise women in that way, it’s a bit tacky and not at all respectful. But I happened upon a station that played okay commercial hip hop that seemed fused with EDM (electronic dance music) and kind of thought, why not, I can vibe to this on my journey if it means I keep a calm head.
Well, it wasn’t long before the suggestive nature of the lyrics brought into sharp focus the fact that I was now apparently the exact kind of woman that a rapper or pop singer would like to spunk their cum all over. I felt a surge of energy run through my body and before I knew it, I was holding the wheel with one hand and rubbing my pussy through my trousers with my other hand. I let out a moan and grinded my crotch against my hand for extra pressure. I kept on doing this, intensifying the speed, as I waited at a red light. As I was building to a climax, feeling like a filthy bimbo, I looked across to the car next to me.
I couldn’t believe it!
I was being watched by a car full of rather macho looking young black dudes. Now, any one of these alphas could have taken control of me, pinned me, used me as they pleased, and I would have been powerless to stop them.
But, sadly, we were in two separate cars, at a traffic light that was now about to change. As we drove off in separate direction, the car with the black studs hooted its horn and I knew exactly what each and every one of them would be jerking their big hard black cocks to that evening. Still grinding away, my pussy soaking wet, this thought pushed me closer to orgasm – but what pushed me over the edge was the knowledge that one day it might be the case that I would be in the car with them, their white bunny to be played with, fondled, grabbed, spunked in and on. It was t this moment that my body couldn’t hold the orgasm any longer and I found myself finger fucking myself over the edge, moaning loudly, trembling, and bucking my hips as I drove my car.
If you had told me that this would have happened before, I would have called you an insane person. But here I was, a bimbo bringing herself to a sweaty, loud orgasm as she drove!
I continued to drive and made an attempt to breath slowly, reduce my body temperature and regain my composure.
As I was getting close to the showroom I saw an upcoming stand still of traffic. This wasn’t great and I can tell you right now I didn’t especially appreciate the on board satellite navigation system advising me of the impending problem.
Telling me to expect delays?
Advising me to find an alternate route?
I can see all this with my own two fully working eyes, I thought.
That’s the thing with technology, it quite often believes itself to be far more intelligent than it actually is. Call me old fashioned but my eyes and my brain aren’t done yet, I’ll put them up against any computer when it comes to spotting a traffic jam.
Well, the pros and cons of technology in cars aside, the fact remained that there was a traffic standstill on the horizon and I was on a time limit.
I had to get back to the showroom by the set time or there would be trouble. There were no other ways into the retail park so I had to reconcile myself with the possibility that I was going to be late and I would have to deal with whatever the consequences of that might be.
As I drew close to the tail end of the traffic, I eased of the accelerator and let the car roll slowly towards its nearest fellow automobile. I looked at the clock, I only had about five minutes before I was expected to arrive; normally it would take less than a minute from here, but I really didn’t see how I would be there in less than fifteen.
Sure, the temporary traffic lights were working, but they were only letting a few cars through each way at a time and I was at least a dozen cars back.
This didn’t look good, and I knew it.
What would happen if I was late I could only imagine.
So I pulled back into the carwash carpark and jumped out of the car with the bags of shopping. I walked briskly towards the reception area and looked around for Jackson.
Nowhere to be see
n.
I figured I would try his office and walked up to it, really trying not to spill the fruit and veg he had requested from the pretentious organic market shop.
I could hear some talking from inside the office but walked in anyway. I was late and didn’t want to further annoy my boss.
“Ever heard of knocking?” Jackson said, unimpressed.
Jackson was sitting at his desk and had an irritated look on his face. Across from him on the other side of the large desk was a man probably in his late forties, but in excellent shape.
I could see the two men exchanging looks and felt the butterflies go in my stomach.
Now it was one thing to service and pleasure Jackson, he was my boss after all, but I hadn’t really thought about the possibility that other men might want a piece of me. And to be quite honest, I wasn’t sure that is what I wanted, whether I was even ready for that step.
Well, I didn’t even know if that was what was happening, so put the thought out of my head.
“Well, aren’t you going to answer me?” Jackson said, now sounding very impatient.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry,” I replied, still a little distracted.
“For God’s sake, that’s not an answer, and it’s no way to speak to your boss either,” Jackson bellowed.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I looked nervously at the two men and became conscious of the guest eyeing me up.
“Okay, if this is what I’m dealing with I will have to take some corrective action,” Jackson said. “Strip!”
What? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Part of me felt humiliated and degraded, but I was battling another side that wanted to follow orders, be a submissive bimbo and show off my gorgeous body to these men.
Well, I guess you can guess which option I took.
I unbuttoned my tight fitting white shirt and let my breast fall out on display. Jackson had sent me out and told me to buy some secretarial wear, but on the condition that I didn’t buy a bra.
Now I could see why.
And so could the two men sitting in front of me!
I felt my nipples stiffen as the large fan in the corner of the room passed me on its journey from side to side. I looked over to Jackson who told me everything I needed to know just from a stern glare.