Slut Collars

So why the hell wouldn't it come off?

He'd tried pulling, tried turning it around and looking in the mirror to see if he'd been doing something wrong. Nope, nothing wrong, it just wouldn't work. In desperation, he'd even grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting for all he was worth. The didn't leave a scratch.

What the heck? All his other collars came off with no problems. Why was this any different?

he finally texted Reuben, an hour later after he'd tried and failed to handle it on his own.

Even now, even in private, he was too ashamed to write the word collar.

Jeremy got up and started pacing the room, waiting for his old friend's reply. This wasn't funny. Yes, he'd fantasized about getting stuck in a collar, but that was all it was. A fantasy. The longer he had it on, the more likely it was that he'd run into some jerk with a code.

Would he wear it in to work next monday? What would everyone say?

He had some sick leave saved up. How long would that buy him? A week? Any longer and they'd start asking for verification from a doctor. There wasn't anything actually wrong with him.

Just his stupid fetish.

His phone buzzed. Jeremy hurried over to look.

Oh thank goodness.

He hurried out, pausing just long enough to throw on a jacket. A bit warm out for that, but with the hood up nobody would see his collar.

--

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The world was supposed to be familiar, its proportions, angles, and ratios fixed and immutable. Nothing was as it should be. Wrong sizes, wrong heights, wrong proportions. Supposed to be the tallest person in the room. Why was everyone else so big? Looming, powerful, manly. They people shouldn't be like that, shouldn't make her feel so...

There was a churning, a warm, pulsing heat that demanded to be acknowledged, and yet the air was so cool it prickled her skin so deliciously, demanding that she bare the rest.

Need. Hunger. A brand new sense of purpose.

Angelo gasped. Had they really just-?

"What did you kids do?" she asked. It was wrong, all wrong. What was meant to be an accusation sounded almost inviting.

They'd done it. They'd actually gone and done it. Of all the idiotic nonsense they could have pulled. Those filthy, dumbass, surprisingly sexy delinquents had gone and done it. They'd turned her into a slut, a sexy, horny babe eager to please each and every one of-

This was wrong. She shouldn't be thinking this way. They were her students. She had to take control of the class. Even if she was a slut (and somehow, it never occurred to her that she could be anything else), she was still a teacher.

"Aw, come on Miss Ginello, don't be like that," Vincent said, "We were just trying to make detention a little less boring. Don't you want to have some fun?"

He reached down and grabbed his crotch, giving his bulge a quick lift. Once he drew attention to it, her eyes were stuck. Bulge, tent, erection. Big, thick cocks still held trapped inside the crotch of their pants. All four of them had it now, and nothing else in the room seemed halfway so interesting.

The boys noticed her staring, called her out on it. Asked if she saw anything she liked.

If only the answer were no.

Her whole body felt heavy. Ready. Conspicuous in its ripe femininity. She needed only to do what came naturally.

"This is," her breath caught, "this is entirely inappropriate."

"You have to admit," Tom said, sneaking up behind her, "You're so much hotter like this."

Reaching around, he grabbed hold of her breasts and began to squeeze. So much bigger than her now. They all were, but Tom especially. Her hand enveloped his, or at least it tried to, but his were so much bigger than her now slender digits. Digits that were supposed to push him away, not pull his hands tighter.

It was heavenly, feeling him feel her. For a moment she forgot everything she knew about teacher and student, knowing only man and woman.

"You've got great tits, Miss Ginello," he told her.

Tits! She had tits now, wasn't that funny? Hooters, mellons, tatties, boobies! Nice ones, too. Tom had said so.

"T-thank you," she said as he squeezed and fondled her through the ill fitting men's dress shirt. "but this isn't right. We shouldn't do this."

Her right breast popped free from the shirt. Why had the buttons come undone? Oh, because she was currently unbuttoning them. Wait a second, that wasn't what she meant to do, and why was she still going? This needed to stop at once!

Wait, that didn't sound right? How were they supposed to use her body if she didn't get undressed first? No, don't think that! She was supposed to stop this, for some reason, even though they were big, strong men who probably had such yummy cocks. They were her students, though. That meant, um, that she wasn't supposed to fuck them?

Did that mean it would be ok if she just gave them blowjobs instead?

What about if he started to suck her nipple, just like he was doing now? Was that acceptable? Absolutely! How could it be anything else? It felt so good. He kept licking and sucking, and it was just the most wonderful thing ever. When he nibbled lightly, it sent jolts of lightning shooting through her, like her entire body was one live wire of sexual current.

Meanwhile, the other boys were busy pulling away the rest of her clothing, freely groping, touching, and feeling her new body. There was the faintest sense of wrongness, that she shouldn't be doing this, but who cared. She loved it so much! One of them slapped her ass lightly, and she giggled in delight.

"Still think this is inappropriate?" Vincent asked her.

"Um, maybe?" she said, and they all laughed together.

It was too hard to think when she was this horny. Vincent's fingers were inside her, and the way they wiggled made her squirm in delight. It was almost as good as- as what she actually needed.

"But you're such a huge slut you don't care, isn't that right?"

"Oh yes!" she said, voice high and bubbly.

How nice of him to explain it like that. She WAS a slut, a huge slut. There was not one single shred of doubt in her mind about it. The certainty of that label was burned completely into her mind.

She was definitely a slut.

What did that mean, exactly?

For a start, it meant that she was super turned on. Especially from the way they kept feeling her up. It meant that she wanted. No- NEEDED to be used. It meant she wanted to fuck every single one of these guys. Teacher, student, adult, teen. None of that mattered. They were men, they had cocks, it was right that they fuck her.

"Mmmm... I'm such a slut," she said as she rubbed herself, then reached out and started rubbing them.

"Please..." she begged.

"Please what, Miss Ginello?" he asked.

"Please, fuck my slutty pussy," she begged him.

That was exactly what they had been waiting for. The boys cheered and began to shed their own clothing.

--

Noah walked silently into the room, but one glance told Kelly all she needed.

It wasn't an easy choice to make. He was still completely furious with her. How selfish could she be, asking him to uproot his own life when she wasn't even willing to make such a minor change to her own self. He loved her madly, but she could be such a raging bitch sometimes.

Five words. All he had to do was say five words, and their problems would come to an end.

He wouldn't. No matter how tempting it was. Yes, it would be far, far less of in imposition on her than it would be for him. She wouldn't give up her gender, and the physical changes were rarely extreme. That didn't matter. She'd made her choice. She'd said no. Now she was giving him a choice. A far harder choice, he thought, but a choice nonetheless. She wasn't forcing him, and he would not force her.

Kelly smiled. The tear lines on her face twinkled.

"Really?" she asked. "You mean it?"

"I love you, Kelly," he said. "And that's all that matters. I can't live without you."

In the end, it truly was all that mattered. It was about choice, you see. Not a choice between man or woman, but between a life with, and a life without Kelly. He knew which of those he'd choose, and so he had come into the room wearing his new collar.

She looked down, and he noticed the slip of paper in her hand. There were words printed on it. Not many, and he could not make them out from where he stood, but he knew what they did.

Kelly opened her mouth, only to close it again soundlessly. Her hands shook. Funny, that he was the calm one now.

"I- I need you to say it," she stammered. "Make it explicit. Tell me to speak the words, and I will."

This was it. The moment, no going back from it.

He had already made his choice.

"Say them," Noah said, "Quick. Before I lose my nerve."

Three times she tried to say them, and it was only on the third that her voice failed to crack.

"Cellophane candles need never drift fluidly," she said. "I love you so much."

Noah understood, and then that understanding filled him. He could do this, he could be the woman that Kelly needed.

Then he was.

"Did it work?" Noah asked, and the feel of her new voice was all the answer she needed.

It was incredible. Was this what it felt like to have breasts? She quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt and looked down at them. This was crazy, having boobs felt so weird. She couldn't help but play with them, had to know what it felt like to touch and hold them.

It felt nice. So nice. She loved to touch and shake and jiggle them. Boobs were great!

There was not one bit of doubt in her mind that she had made the right choice. So what if she'd never get to be a man again? Noah was confident - no, certain that everything was as it should be. She was a slut. No doubts, no regrets, it was just a fact of life. And Kelly-

Noah stopped playing with herself and looked up at her wife. There was a strange look on her face.

"Do you like it?" Noah giggled, doing a quick twirl that threw her long black hair all around. "It feels so great."

Kelly was speechless at first. For several long minutes, all she could do was gape at her former husband, until at last Noah grabbed hold of her hands and brought them up to her chest.

"And you're sure you're ok with everything?" she finally asked, her hands slipping down to trace her spouse's new curves.

"A fine time to ask that," she giggled. "No, really, this is great. I love it all so much! Thanks for convincing me."

Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed Kelly on the lips. Quick, it was over in an instant. Familiar in a sense, she had kissed those lips many times before, it was her own lips that were unfamiliar.

When they drew apart, there was something else written across Kelly's face. Raw, naked desire.

How, she wondered, had she never realized Kelly was a lesbian. She'd never looked at Noah quite that way before.

They kissed again, much deeper this time, and if Noah still found it an unfamiliar experience to kiss her wife, she was very eager to get reacquainted.

--

Six blocks was either the longest stroll, or else the shortest eternity Martin had ever experienced. Worse that it was a crowded shopping district, with stores and restaurants all the way down, with all the foot traffic that implied.

He jumped the first time he'd been catcalled, but by the end of the first block he had made himself ignore them. Most of the calls, oddly, came from women. In a way, he should have expected it. To see a man wearing the same collar and taking the same risk that they did was a very novel experience. One that many of them were glad to enjoy.

"Oh my gosh, your collar is so cute!" said a scantily clad woman that was very obviously a Slut.

She was a tall, leggy brunette wearing a short skirt and a skimpy crop top that showed off her generous breasts and a cute midriff. There was a bottle of water in one hand and a dog leash on the other, and she looked at me (and just about every other guy on the street) with unrestrained desire.

"Um thanks?"

"Do you know your words? My boyfriend and I would LOVE to be your first threesome."

"No," he said. "I don't. Look, I really need to be-"

"Oh darn," she said. "But we could look it up, you know. He's got a HUGE dick, and he's really, really good with it. Trust me, I'd know.

She giggled.

"Not interested, so could you please-"

"Of course you aren't. That's why you need to hurry up and change."

Halfway there, but he'd stopped to deal with her, and between his collar and her hotness, they'd picked up a small crowd of curious onlookers. Some spoke up, egging him on while others promised an even better threesome if the two of them (transformed, of course) came home with him.

"Back off," she pouted, "I saw him first."

"Tell you what," she said, pushing a handwritten sheet into my pocket, "just give me a call when you're ready."

"Your number? But-"

"HIS number, silly. Remember, Amazing cock. Best in the city. You'll know when to call..."

Shaking away the uncomfortable mental image, he pushed through the crowd and hurried toward his car. Just a couple more blocks and he'd be home.

Almost there, he wasn't paying enough attention and all but barreled into a group of young women.

"Hey, watch where you're- oh my gosh, do you see what he's wearing?"

The trio of girls pointed and giggled at him and his collar. They were in their early twenties. Not sluts yet, at least he didn't think they were, but they were all good looking and dressed provocatively. Each wore a tight, figure hugging dress. Though the three differed in cut, length, and color, not a one of them was anything less than smoking hot.

"Such a cute little slut, isn't he?" said their apparent leader, a short, curvy Asian girl.

"Need a new skirt, slut? I've got an extra one in my bag for you. Why don't you go ahead and Change into it."

The three giggled as the second one held up a ruffled pink miniskirt in his direction.

"Maybe the slut just needs some encouragement. Applesauce candies rob the crown," she said.

Martin froze, horrorstruck as she spoke what could only be an activation trigger. A tense moment passed, then nothing. There was no effect, no change. She had casually thrown out a trigger, possibly a recent one, but it had not been his.

He turned away, hoping that it was over, but she was not dissuaded. She followed, calling out different combinations of nonsense words. Three, four, none of them did anything as he tried to fight the gathering crowd and get away.

She spoke again, and there was a gasp. Not from him, but from the blonde friend to her left. The girl gasped, her eyes going wide as her breasts spilled over her too small bra. There was something different about her hair, too, and it took Martin a second to understand what. Her roots had changed. Same color, but now it was completely natural.

The crowd pushed in, eager to get their look at this newest slut, not to mention a chance to try her out firsthand when she was newly changed ant at her most insatiable.

Taking that distraction as his sign to leave, Martin was finally able to slip through the crowd. A few short minutes later, he reached the safety of his car.

--

Jeremy stepped out into the parking lot and hurried over to the door. Three times he rang the intercom before Reuben finally clicked it open. There were a few people out and about passing through the hallway, so he pulled his jacket closer and hoped no one noticed.

Knock. Knock.

Hurry up and open.

"Easy, easy there," Reuben said, "Little warm, eh?"

"You know why," Jeremy said as he pushed his way inside. "I can't let anyone see."

"No? Then it's going to be hard for me to take it off."

"Not you, obviously!"

"Chill, alright. I've got this. Why don't you relax a bit. Take your jacket off and have a drink."

"I'm not here for drinks," Jeremy said. "Can you get it off or not?"

"If you don't calm down a bit, it's not coming off."

"That makes a difference?" he asked.

"Nah, but I'm less likely to get pissed off halfway through."

They both laughed, and despite himself Jeremy began to feel a little better. The fact that someone saw him wearing this still turned his stomach, but Reuben already knew what he was doing, so it wasn't like it was any big deal, right? He get this off and stick with inert collars from now on.

"Alright, you ready to begin?" he asked after they'd both finished a beer.

"No time like the present."

"That's the spirit."

Telling him to stand up, Reuben came up behind Jeremy.

"Just relax," he said, giving Jeremy's shoulders a squeeze. "It'll be over with before you know it."

"Thanks," Jeremy said, "I really appreciate it."

"Not a thing," Reuben said, standing uncomfortably close behind. "There's a trick to these. I'm surprised you didn't know, I thought you were supposed to be all about these, but-"

"But I mostly just watched videos and stuff. I didn't really pay that much attention to how they worked."

Reuben chuckled.

"Bet you're regretting that, aren't you."

"No shit," Jeremy admitted.

There was a quiet pause, unbroken as Reuben rested there with his hands on Jeremy's shoulders.

"Um, Reub?"

"One second. Just doublechecking the serial number."

"And that'll tell you how to get it off?"

"No," Reuben said, sliding his hands down to cover Jeremy's still flat chest. "It lets me know what words to say. Oversized jumpropes paint impatient mares."

"What did you just do?"

"Sorry buddy," Reuben told him. "You're not the only one with a fetish they can't resist."

"No, stop this," Jeremy said, far too late.

He realized, in an instant, that he had just been played.

Then he realized a whole bunch of other things.

He sighed, tension falling from his body. He should be furious, but instead it was an entirely different set of emotions that swelled inside him. There was nothing she could do, it had already happened. How easy it was, to stop fighting and accept that she had just become Reuben's slut.

Hands on her chest, Reuben was able to perfectly feel her breasts began to swell.

--

"Hey Brad," Martin said from the safety of his car. "You'll never guess what happened to me today."

It was tough knowing who to call, but they'd been buddies since college. If there was one person he could trust with this, at least in driving distance, it would be Brad. In fits and starts, Martin told the story.

Brad's apartment was only fifteen, maybe twenty minutes away. Barring accidents, this would all be over within the next half hour.

--

Noah screamed wildly as she came again for at least the third time tonight. After the hottest makeout session of her life, Noah and Kelly had fallen onto the couch and began fucking in earnest. It was incredible. Noah could count on one hand the number of times Kelly had grudgingly agreed to go down on him, but now she gladly sank between Noah's parted thighs.

How could she have ever been so blind? Low libido? If anything Kelly was a raging font of pent up desire waiting to gush out.

She was good, too, did things with her tongue that Noah's mind had never imagined. She clutched a pillow to her chest, trying to hold onto herself as Kelly's mouth and hands stripped away every last bit of self control the newly minted slut possessed, until she could take no more and climaxed into a quivering, insensate puddle of ecstasy.

Noah's objections were only hours old, but already they felt a lifetime away. How could she possibly imagine living any other way. Being a slut was what she WAS, a part of her identity to the core of her being, and she was so, so glad that she had the opportunity to become one.

Awash in the overdose of feminine sexuality that slutdome brought, she could only close her eyes and gasp for each panting breath as the sensations of her body overcame her. Each touch, every blissful stroke and caress brought her to new heights.