And Other Duties As Required Ch. 01-04

Luckily, I had enough of a lead to give myself options. As soon as I'd rounded the corner and broke line of sight, I ducked down a narrow alley.

I had hoped to ditch them, throw them off the trail. Instead I crashed headlong into more trouble. Drunk trouble. Dirty, ugly and just... so bewilderingly big. Trouble that smelt as foul as he looked.

"Hey there, sweet thing." he flashed me the gap between his teeth. "I know you."

"Y-You do?" I took a step back, but the crowd behind me had been harder to shake than I thought. I was surrounded.

"You're that idol girl, ain't you? Miki Miza-somethingorother? Shit," he stepped forward, his eyes caressed the curves of my feminine body as one hand rubbed at the front of his jeans, "you're even hotter in person."

I took a step back, tried to turn and run - I'd rather take the crowd than this - but no sooner had I presented it then there was a hand on my ass. I blushed at the sensation. My butt was apparently just as big and insidiously sensitive as my tits.

"Hey!" I cried out and tried to tug myself free, but he had me by the hem of the skirt.

"Aw come on," he licked his lips, "show your fans what you've got to work with."

"No!" I screamed as the crowd caught up to me. Men - big, tall - pressed in around me, looming over me like a canopy. Hard rough hands finding their way along every inch of me, tearing at my clothes. "Get away!"

"Miki?" A girl's voice echoed from the front of the alley, "Is that you?" Hands stopped. Heads turned. "Come on girl, you know how our security detail feels about letting guys get near you. They're gonna be here any minute now to start busting heads if you don't quit playing around!"

Playing around? I was getting felt up by a crowd of strangers in an alleyway and she thought I was playing around?

Yet my aggressors seemed to regard the prospect of a security team as more trouble than I was worth. With one last squeeze of my ass, one last tantalizing pinch of my diamond-hard nipple, the crowd dispersed, taking off the other end of the alley.

The girl ran up to me, her arm waving in the air.

"I think they bought it." she giggled. My heart pounded. This girl had a smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts. A soft face, with youthful features peaking through careful coifed bangs and just enough makeup to create the illusion that her wide, expressive eyes were all natural. She was wearing an oversized sweater over a short skirt and thigh-high stockings that left just a hint of leg in the gap leading to her skirt.

"Thank you!" I looked up at her, "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't arrived when you did."

"Yeah, well that's what you get for running off!" she put a hand on her cocked hip. "Geeze, Miki, what were you thinking? It's dangerous out here!" Her voice was high and childish, matching her stylish-but-girly aesthetic.

Something about this girl seemed so familiar. Was she one of mine? I strained for the memory. There was a time in my life when I made it a point to remember the names and faces of everybody that worked for me, but that was a long time ago.

She was one of last years middling successes, wasn't she? A band. Not top celebs, but enough to fill a concert hall. They had plateaued and I had delegated their day-to-day to someone else. I'd barely given them a second thought since.

Love something? It was one of those stupid cutesy names. Love hearts? Love Hearts Trio! I remembered now. This was Meiling. She had trembled like a flower in our prior meetings. Now she seemed so confident, so self-assured. Now I was the one shaking.

"Miki? Are you feeling alright?" she put a warm hand to my forehead. "You don't look so good. Come on, girl. You know you really shouldn't be out so late all alone." she sighed, her tone shifting from admonition to disappointment. "I wish at least you had told us where you were going. Look, I know you're new at this, but come on, we're a team, right?"

"Uh. I..."

"Wait," she sniffed my breath, "have you been drinking?"

I stopped to consider the question. The dizziness, the lack of balance, the fog in my brain. That bitch had left one final insult as I was thrown out in her body.

The girl saw me trembling and wrapped her arms around me. Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't speak.

"Come on," she grabbed my hand, "let's get back to the dorm. If the paparazzi catch sight of you like this, we're gonna be in a lot of trouble."

I leaned on her for support as she flagged down a taxi. The driver's eyes roamed over my outfit: slutty, disheveled and torn. I crossed my arms over my chest, but it just drew further attention to them. I turned away, I tried to pretend I didn't notice, but he kept finding excuses to look back.

I didn't give him the benefit of meeting his gaze. My attention was focused instead on the girl who had saved me. She had an arm wrapped around me for comfort. She kept engaging the driver. Conversing, joking, laughing. She was distracting him. Pulling his attention away from me. She never let on for a moment that anything wasn't alright - that anything wasn't going to be okay. An idol is always on the clock.

The last thing I remember before blackness consumed me was the day's events rushing to catch up to me. The surreality of it all swirling around my head alongside all those drinks I had never drinken.

With Madeline's laughter echoing through my brain, I closed my eyes and slept.

-= Chapter 2 =-

I woke up gasping, a screaming sheet of pleasure blasting through me so fierce, so intense, that it sent my back arching. My throbbing pussy - hypersensitive and soaking wet as my hand played out the last remnants of some intense somnambulistic fantasy - quickly dispelled any notions that it had all been a dream. My hips kicked wildly into the air as I humped the inflamed folds of my flowering sex against the delicate rigidity of my buried digits.

I was panting hot and breathless, moans spilling out from sweet lips - a faint but musical echo of the euphoria coursing through my body like liquid fire.

"Ah, fuck!"

I pulled my hand away from my yearning sex just moments from the peak. Some shred of my rational mind able to seize control for just that slim moment. My hips shivered as I went limp, hot blood pounding through my brain, hot blood pounding through my clit. I closed my eyes, wishing sleep back upon myself, wishing an escape from this hell.

I was still a woman. There was no denying it. I screamed in important rage, my voice came out high and melodic and it just made things worse. I slammed a feeble fist down on the bed.

Eyes closed, I tried to focus on my breathing, tried to calm and center myself. In and out. The sense of air in my smaller lungs, the feeling of my shorter breathing cycle, the smell of my slutty pussy, still hungry and begging for more. It was a cacophony of dysphoric agony.

I could feel the anger rising up again, but anger wasn't going to get me anywhere. I had to remain in control. She had taken everything from me but I still had myself. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I was still a man, damnit, I was still me. And the last thing I was going to do was break down into girlish hysterics.

I needed to take stock. I needed to come up with a plan. I had to find some way out of this nightmare. I let out a slow breath. Madeline had turned me into this? Then I would find Madeline and force her to turn me back.

I sat up and rolled my slender legs off the side of the bed. My bare skin felt like silk. I glanced away, blushing, from my own nakedness, then rolled my eyes at my shyness. Madeline's body or not, I had just had my hand down this body's quivering cunt.

Still, it felt foreign. Wrong. Like I was an intruder here.

I looked around. The room I had found myself in was some pale shade of pink and festooned with cutesy kitsch. The space was dominated by the large bed, but there were two dressing tables and several wardrobes fighting for space along the periphery. It felt more like a communal bedroom than any one person's. Despite that, it was poorly kept: dirty clothes were scattered on the floor near a hamper, a lacy bra hanging out the top. The room smelled - somewhere beneath the hot musk of my own gushing cunt - like a woman.

There were several mirrors about the place but the largest was on the back of the door. I stood up and took a look.

My delicate jaw dropped. This was Madeline's body alright, but as attractive as she had been, she had never been this... this raw. This wasn't just attractive, this was sexy. No, even that barely did it justice.

I raised a hand to my chest and watched, my body growing juicier at the sight, as this girl in the mirror cupped her naked tits, as the heavy flesh of them overflowed around her fingers. I bit my lip. Madeline had never had tits like this. She would have taken advantage of it if she had.

Shit. I sighed softly. I'd forgotten how sensitive these stupid things were. My throat hitched. It was like they were on a hair trigger. I hefted the weight of them carefully. One wrong move and I'd be back on my back, screaming like the slut I had evidently been turned into.

Still... I couldn't deny that they felt... nice.

I twirled a long lock of brown hair around one finger, gently tracing a path around my areola with another. Maybe it wasn't so bad, that addictive sexual high. I thought back to how I had just woken up, how somehow each moment had struck me harder than even the greatest moment of male ecstasy. Was that a woman's pleasure? Or had Madeline somehow amped her body up to an electric 11 just for me?

I bit my lip and turned back towards the bed, then shook my head. No. No. As much as I wanted to, as much as my body was screaming for release, this was hardly the place, this was hardly the time.

I looked back at the mirror, to the girl shuddering in need, to the fact that that girl was me. I was walking pornography. Jesus, those clothes she had been wearing. I had thought Madeline had just been trying to accentuate her curves, I didn't realize she'd been underplaying them so that she would still look even remotely like herself.

My gaze was drawn to the width of her hips, to the butt beyond. I twisted to get a better look. Somehow it was just as plump and inviting, just as sexually exaggerated, and just as lip-bitingly fuckable as her tits. It was a parody of sexuality, huge but impossibly perky. Had she had work done? But no - I gave the fat crease beneath a fondle - It was all natural. It jiggled as I pulled away.

I shook my head. Was I really getting so worked up just checking myself out? As though I had a choice. Just look at me.

I took a step forward and took a closer look at my face. Wide eyes stared back at me, trembling and half lidded in trepidation and sleepy lust. Madeline could do cute, sure, but she had never excelled at it. She lacked the natural innocence. Her face was appealing in other ways, though. She had seduction, she had smoulder. She wasn't some kid playing around. And now, with hungry eyes and a pouting lip, that impression echoed through all the harder.

God, how different this face looked without Madeline behind it. She had been so enthusiastic, once. These days she seemed to have a perpetual scowl. It was a shame, she had a nice smile, though I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen it. Except, well... I touched a hand to my cheek. The girl staring back bore only an expression of horny bewilderment. I was amazed at how unlike Madeline it was. She was still innocent, still pretty. Vulnerable in a way Madeline had never let herself be. All that beauty, all that potential.

And now she was me.

I ran a hand down my stomach. Soft skin, so smooth and - ah, so fucking sensitive.

My legs squeezed together, my body tingling. It was taking everything I could to keep my hand away from my quivering sex. It was a little cliche wasn't it? I wasn't some horny virgin teen. I liked to believe I had enough experience with women that I was beyond mindlessly groping myself the moment I discovered I was one.

And yet... I couldn't deny that the sight of the girl in the mirror had my blood pumping.

I swallowed. All this prodding, all this sensuous exploration. Would a little more really hurt? I thought back to how I had awoken, to that that roaring need and lusty dreams that still floated at the edge of my awareness, unremembered but not unfelt. What sort of erotic nightmare had my estrogen-riddled subconscious been imagining? Just thinking about it sent me tingling, a burning nymphomania crackling through every vein.

A hand reached up to pluck at a nipple. Gently, slowly, catching it between two fingers while I circled it with my thumb. I let out a deep breath. It was so sensitive, so stiff. A ruby of passion begging to be polished. I had always been so rough when I'd been with women in the past - if only I'd known.

My other hand drifted down to the flat curve of my crotch, to the hot lips drooling and throbbing beneath. The thrill - narcissistic as it was - of this slut in the mirror masturbating for me just drove me further and further towards the edge. What can I say? I'm a heterosexual male. When a woman spreads her legs in front of me, what choice do I have but to get turned on?

Even - I bit my lip - even when that woman was me.

My hand touched down on my thrumming pulsing pussy. The flush of pleasure sent my knees wobbling as hot horny blood rushed to my head. No! I clenched my fist and pulled it away. This wasn't the time for this! I held my fists tight in front of me, but as soon as my focus lapsed it started to find its way back, a compass drawn to the magnetic pole of my desire.

Foreign wants consumed my brain. Masculine arousal is hard and focused. This was nothing like that. This was a full-body softness yearning to be held, touched, kneaded, molded. My body was clay. A vessel designed to get filled. I was a hole. And as the flames of my arousal rise thunderously around me, nowhere was that more apparent than the boiling cauldron of my pussy, of the red-hot clit begging to be quenched.

Wet heat spilled out from between those slick lips, salivating in anticipation. It was my body giving a begging invitation to get filled. To get fucked. To get held down and bred until my brain was a screaming orgasmic mush and then to never stop.

I whimpered, mewling in hopeless yearning for this thing I suddenly craved more than anything.

Who was I kidding? I couldn't stop. Not now. A flame had been lit inside me and it was going to burn down the world.

I pawed hungrily - eagerly - at the folds of my new sex. A wash of horny body-shaking pleasure flooded through me as I drew a finger along the moist slick fold of my vulva and the eager bead of my clitoris. Oh my god, the clit. It was like nothing I had ever dreamed.

And yet... and yet it wasn't enough. Though by no means inexperienced with the female form, my heavy-handed strokes felt frustratingly amateurish on the receiving end. My eyes rolled up into the back of my head as I gave myself over to instinct - an eager student with a lot to learn.

Focus had left me. There was now only pleasure.

My whimpers turned to gasps and then cries. I couldn't control it. I didn't want to do this but... fuck, it was too good. I couldn't resist. Masculinity be damned.

I fell back onto the bed, hips arching in the air, wiggling, undulating and bucking at the unrelenting rigidity of my middle finger as it pressed and slid around the hard bead at the heart of my desire, my other fingers stroking my swollen lips, stoking the unyielding flame of passion.

I screamed. It was good. Too good. The pleasure that flooded my brain was like nothing I had ever experienced, an earthshaking, toe curling sensation that pushed all thought out of my head. I gripped the sheets with my other hand, my head rolling. This body was a fire cracker waiting to go off. A powder keg of pleasure and sensitivity desperate to explode.

I was a mountain climber, each step taking me closer towards heaven. I was close - so close. My breathing hot and furious, my ruby-tipped fingers straining, my abs twitching, bracing for the rapturous ocean that was about to my reward. I was almost there, moments away from that tipping point, moments away from -

"Miki?" The door opened. "Are you allri- oh my god!"

I shot bolt upright, my hand sending dew flying as it withdrew. My body was red and shaking both from sheer humiliation and from the soul-quenching orgasm I'd been so close to receiving.

"I'm so sorry!" came the girl's voice. Her eyes were averted. I had been facing the mirror on the door. She had gotten a perfect look of my smooth pussy, my thrusting hips, my seeking hand. "I - I didn't know!"

"Wait! Meiling!" I cried, "Its not what it looks like!"

It was exactly what it looked like.

"B-breakfast is ready!" She slammed the door behind her. "Get dressed!"

I shoved a pillow over my head. Maybe I could just curl up and die?

I gripped my fist. I was furious. What the hell had I been doing? Giving into temptation? I slumped down on the bed and whimpered. I had been so close. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing all the itching hypersexual want that was coursing through my blood to return to whence it came; forcing whatever spirit had possessed me to to sink back into these girly bones and haunt me no more.

I stood up, legs shaking, unable to meet the judging gaze from the mirror. With the burning needs of my arousal so unceremoniously doused, I realized how hungry I was. The smell of waffles peaked over the perfume of my lust. I sighed. I needed to get dressed.

I walked over to one of the drawers, my body feeling just as alien as it had when I'd first got it. A diverse rainbow of women's underwear stared back at me, sorted vertically by color and horizontally by style. A delicately sorted array of delicates.

I picked up the least feminine thing I could find - a pair of white boy short panties with a little pink bow - and held it in front of me. They seemed so small.

I wasn't really about to put these on, was I? Uhg. As though this was any worse than what I had just done.

I mean, what choice did I have? What was I going to do? Refuse to wear anything? Tell that girl who I really was and what had really happened? The ship for that had sailed the moment she walked in on me fucking my brains out. What would she think if she knew some man was masturbating in her friend's body? I shivered. I had nowhere else to go. Getting kicked out naked was just going to make things worse.

For now, I was going to have to act the part - at least around her. And for how much I hated it, that meant wearing panties.

I sat down on the bed and tried to slide the silky material up my long legs. It was a struggle. Try as I might I couldn't get it up over my butt. I pulled as hard as I could, the material stretching as much as it was able, but it was hopeless. I yanked them off and threw them on the ground.

Panic washed through me. Was this part of Madeline's plan? Had she given herself a bigger butt without adjusting all of her clothes just to torment me? What the hell was I supposed ot wear?

I dug through the rest of the wardrobe. There had to be something that would fit. Pants? No, same problem. I seethed. The only thing I could squeeze my fat jiggling ass into was a particularly stretchy skirt.

I held a bra up to my chest. Same problem. Tit flesh overflowed around the cups. I tried to put it on anyway, to do up the band then stuff them in, but it was like trying to hold back the tide with a plastic bucket.

Luckily I was able to find a few stretchy tops. They'd be small on me - scandalous, even - but at least they covered my chest. Well, Mostly. There was nothing I could do to keep these obscene nipples of mine from jutting through. Not that I tried too hard - I didn't want to wind up any hornier than I already was. I'd just have to put up with it. Just one more little reminder of the living sex doll I had become.