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Message-ID: <32087asstr$998233802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Louis Nessus" <nessus29@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} NESSUS REPOST 2: The Wicked game
Date: Sun, 19 Aug 2001 11:10:02 -0400
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This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or 
whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy 
scenes of graphic sexual activity.   Please, if you are under the age of 18, 
or if you will be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read 
no further - delete the file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!


The Wicked Game Chronicles:
Book 1.
The Devil and Mr Brownlow.
(Part 1.)

by Nessus

FemDom Mast Humil CB Magic


I had a difficult beginning but now, at twenty-six years of age, I was 
starting to move up. Growing up in the tough streets of London, I had never 
envisaged that I would be, some day, living in New York.  A guiding teacher 
in my early years had shown me that education was the only way out of the 
slums and I had devoted myself to books by day while working as a waiter in 
London's East End at night. It was hard and lonely but finally, I completed 
my Honours Degree in Economics and looked forward to a good future, 
determined to never be more again.

With no time for relationships and only my books and old movies to keep me 
company, I had honed my accent to present myself as a most suitable 
candidate for a position in one of the cities old firms. Accents are the 
badge of your place in life in England and I had cultivated a upper class 
aristocratic rhythm to my speech. Eagerly, I discussed my future with many 
recruiters from the various companies after graduation but I was surprised 
to be the most pursued by an American giant headquartered in New York.

New York, the heart of the new empire and a city that had fascinated me 
since I first saw Gene Kelly dance through its streets in the movies. I 
wondered briefly why they were after me but I told myself  I had the 
academic qualifications and I think my polished accent, boyish good looks 
and shy manners impressed the female recruiter as well.

After a great deal of psychological testing, I was accepted and here I am, 
ensconced in my little cubicle on the eleventh floor and working on 
marketing segmentation plans for a company that dominates the marketplace. I 
vowed never to return to London permanently, New York was to become my new 
home. I also vowed to reach the thirty-seventh floor executive suites one 
day as well.

The company took good care of my move and allowed me stay in a small 
apartment owned by the company at a reduced rental. I had twelve months in 
that apartment, laughingly referred to as the College Dorm by staff, while I 
searched New York for that elusive perfect apartment. I promised myself I 
would be out of the Dorm well within a year.

The President of the Marketing Unit was Lucy Duivel, a woman who had a 
meteoritic , and, it was whispered, the most ruthless woman on Wall Street. 
I had glimpsed her once in the lobby as I pushed towards the lifts, (sorry, 
elevators), as she strode regally to the executive elevator that would whisk 
her to the thirty-seventh level. Tall, elegant, aged early to mid thirties, 
she was the epitome of a New York power woman.

The staff was nice to me in that broad expansive American way but left me 
alone. I am shy and find it difficult to mix with people so that suited me 
very well indeed as I had a magical city to explore. And what a city it is. 
Immediately, I fell in love with its toughness, its brashness and its many 
quirky corners. New York would be home.

After a month of working solidly, I had a surprise visit from the mail 
clerk, Donna.

"Hi, Mr Brownlow," she said as she wheeled her mail cart to the desk. Donna 
was a shy young girl who delivered snail mail to all desks and was the 
youngest employee in the Baden Building in which we all worked.

With a coy smile, she dropped a  gilt edged invitation to dinner with the 
Chairman on my desk. Shocked, I stared at it. Christopher Brownlow and 
partner it said and I wondered why I had been invited. More importantly, I 
also wondered where I would find a date.

Nervously, I asked Troy, my workgroup leader, why I was invited to dinner 
with the Chairman. He laughed loudly when I had stuttered my way through the 
question. "Relax, Christopher, its not a little intimate dinner. There'll be 
about a hundred people there, buddy." Troy affected the weary air of an 
experienced older brother, one that I found irritating but had to accept, as 
he was my boss. He impressed upon me his vast experience with women but I 
suspected it was a facade and, underneath the false persona, he was, like 
myself, quite shy and inexperienced.

I sighed with relief. "But, why?"

"The Chairman and his executive team like to welcome all the new graduate 
recruits. You won't get to talk to Will Macintosh or any of his execs  but 
you've got to go, man. If you want up the ladder, you can't be a no show."

Sometimes I found it a little difficult to actually understand what my 
colleagues said but I managed to receive the gist of his message. "It's 
mandatory?"

"Huh?"

"I have to go?"

"I just said that. You'll dazzle them with that royal charm of yours. Get 
your dinner suit out and enjoy yourself." He returned to his computer 
screen.

I cleared my throat. "Do I have to take a date?"

"This is New York. You show stag and you'll be talked about in every 
restroom in this god dam building. Especially, you, English Tom," he 
grinned. Apparently, one of the office wags had started the rumour that I 
was the young British cousin of Tom Cruise and several young ladies had 
fallen for it.

I looked around the department's workstations. "I suppose I could ask one of 
the ladies here," I said.

"What!" Troy spun around to face me, shocked. "Man, you can't do that. You 
have to look like you're out there, networking, that you know people."

"But I've only been here a month."

"So?"

"I don't know anyone."

"Oh, that's the problem. No worries. Here." He slid a small card across the 
desk and I picked it up.

"Escorts?"

"Sure. They're the best. Will cost you but you'll get a classy lady that can 
talk to anyone. Tell them I sent you."

Slowly, I walked out of his office, clutching the card. Nervously, I placed 
the call and made the arrangements for the following Friday evening. I felt 
better when I understood that my date would be a young woman called Judy 
Daimon who had majored in Banking and Finance. This was going to work out 
fine.


I was surprised when Judy answered the door. She was stunning in a simple 
short glittering black dress with her long legs encased in shimmering black 
nylon.

Coolly, she looked me up and down. "Not bad," she grinned in her soft 
southern accent.

"Hello," I said nervously. "I'm Christopher Brownlow."

"Judy Daimon," she said, extending her hand, which I shook gently. "Now," 
she said in a business like tone. "This is the deal. I'm your date, someone 
you've just met and I'll charm everyone. And that's it. Ok?" I nodded and my 
eyes drifted down her long legs. "Got it?" she repeated and I dragged my 
gaze up to her smiling eyes.

I blushed a little when I guessed she knew I'd been looking at her legs. 
"Yes, of course. Understood," I said quickly. "Shall we go? I have a taxi 
waiting downstairs."

My eyes fastened onto her legs as she swung them into the car. Shutting the 
door, I scrambled around to sit next to her as the driver pulled away from 
the pavement. Her dress had ridden up and I furtively stared at the expanse 
of thigh in black nylon.

"How long have you been in New York, Chris?" she asked.

"Only a month, actually," I said, flushing under the scrutiny of her 
sparkling eyes.

"Do you want me to call you Chris or Christopher?"

"Most people call me Christopher but I don't mind."

"I'll call you Chris, then. Makes us sound like a couple. Ok?"

"Yes. Of course." She crossed her legs and my cock tingled at the sound of 
nylon against nylon.

I opened the car door for her and we climbed the foyer stairs to make our 
way to the ballroom of the Chairman's house where the function was being 
held. A large group of formally dressed people mingled and milled around the 
entrance, drinking champagne while talking loudly.

"Ready?" I asked, butterflies swarming in my stomach.

"Let's go, partner," she smiled and we moved through the group. Judy was 
fantastic, charming all and talking knowledgeably about a range of subjects 
to the group at our table. After a while, I started to relax.

I bumped into Troy who was talking to a tall man next to the bar. He gave me 
a thumbs up sign when he saw Judy

The Chairman, Will Macintosh, rose and gave a short expert speech and we all 
laughed in the right places. I saw Lucy Duivel seated amongst other senior 
execs at the main table and I thought she looked at me but I dismissed the 
notion as absurd.. She wouldn't know I existed, I thought.

We stood around for coffee and I was surprised to see Will Macintosh bearing 
down on us. "Will Macintosh," he boomed, shoving his hand towards me while 
staring at Judy.

"Christopher Brownlow, sir," I stumbled while he almost crushed my hand.

"Where do you work, Brownlow?" he demanded, smiling at Judy who smiled 
broadly back at him.

"Marketing, Sir," I said. "May I present Judy?" I stuttered, realising that 
I couldn't remember her last name.

"Daimon," she finished, taking the Chairman's hand briefly.

"Can I show you around, Miss Daimon?" he asked.

She slipped her arm through his. "Wonderful," she said. "I'll be back soon, 
Christopher," she said over her shoulder as I watched them walk away with 
the crowd magically parting for them.

Relieved to be on my own for a while, I wandered through the crowd. A waiter 
came up to me. "Mr Brownlow?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You're wanted upstairs. Third room on the right." He moved away before I 
had a chance to ask him who had sent the message. Maybe it was Judy and she 
wants a little fun after all. My heart quickened and my cock stiffened as I 
pushed through to the stairs.

The crowd thinned out as I moved up the stairs until I was on my own walking 
down the hall. I found the third door and I stepped inside. I reeled in 
shock when I saw Lucy Duivel leaning against a small table, smoking a 
cigarette in a gold cigarette holder. Her blonde hair was fashionably styled 
and she positively glittered in an expensive red dress. Up close, she was 
radiantly beautiful and a perfect representation of all that was female.

"Ms Duivel," I stammered in shock. "I'm Christopher...."

"I know who you are, Brownlow," she said, looking me up and down 
disdainfully. "Do you always bring hookers to company functions?"

"Hooker?" I gaped. "Ms Duivel....."

"Hooker. Prostitute. Whatever. I guess you have hookers in England. Answer 
the question," she snapped.

"Ms Duivel, I had no idea......"

"Crap!" She stared at me coldly as she stubbed her cigarette out in a black 
glass ashtray. "You know I can destroy you, Brownlow," she said calmly. "You 
like New York don't you?"

"Of course," I said quickly.

"I can have you kicked out of the states so fast your nose will bleed from 
the speed. Maybe I should tell Will he's been walking around in front of the 
staff with a hooker on his arm?"

"Ms Duivel, I had no idea. I thought she was a companion for the evening 
and...."

"She may wear a dinky little number with rhinestones all over it but I'm 
guessing she's got nothing on underneath it. She's a hooker, all right." My 
cock stirred at the image of Judy naked under the dress.

"Ms Duivel," I begged. "I'm terribly sorry. What should I do?"

"What ever I say," she said, bluntly.

"Of course," I quickly agreed.

"Drop your pants," she ordered, an amused look creeping into her eyes.

"Ms Duivel," I gasped in shock. "Did I hear correctly?" Did you say..."

"Drop your pants. That's it."

"Why?"

"I want to see your cock."

"Ms Duivel," I stammered. "I, uh...."

"Look kid, this is real simple. I want to see your cock and I get what I 
want. If you don't drop your pants in ten seconds I'm out of here. I'll tell 
Will and everyone else you tried to put your hand up my dress. And you've 
brought a hooker to the dinner. Your choice, kid," she said calmly as I 
gaped at her. "Ten, nine," she stared counting down.

I had no choice. I fumbled with my pants, unzipped them and they fell around 
my ankles. "European under pants. Nice. Lose them," she ordered and I pulled 
them down until they too puddled around my shoes. "Lift your shirt up," she 
said and, blushing, I pulled my shirt up so my genitals were completely 
exposed.

She left me that way for a long moment and, to my shame, I felt my cock 
harden. "Get it hard," she snapped.

"Ms Duivel," I protested weakly.

She laughed. "Are you going to try to tell me you don't jerk off? Get it 
hard. Now!" Surrendering, I gripped my cock with my right hand and started 
the familiar motions as my cock quickly hardened into a full erection. 
"Stop," she ordered and I let my hand fall to my side. I blushed as she 
smilingly studied my hard pulsing cock. "Good," she said and gathered her 
bag. "You better get dressed," she said as she moved towards the door. "I'd 
hate for someone to find you like that." With a laugh, she opened the door, 
stepped out and closed the door behind her.

Shocked, embarrassed and humiliated, I stuffed my hard cock into my tight 
underpants and pulled my pants up. My heart was pounding and I had no idea 
what had just happened but I was so terribly aroused.



My cock twitched in my pants as, still slightly stunned, I pushed through 
the crowd, searching for Judy. I saw Lucy Duivel sit at the head table with 
Will Macintosh and I blushed as she smiled at me across the room.

I literally bumped into Judy who pulled me onto the dance floor, holding me 
close for a slow number. Her sweet perfume swept over me and my cock grew 
hard against her belly.

"Mmm," she whispered in my ear. "You are glad to see me."

"I'm sorry," I said, upset that my body had betrayed me and I started to 
pull away. "Don't," she warned. "Everyone will see you're hard." I blushed 
and kept dancing with her until we neared the exit. "Let's go," she said, 
taking my hand and leading me into the cool air.

Hungrily, I watched her long legs as she sat in the car and the constant 
rasp of nylon against nylon as she crossed and uncrossed her legs drove me 
insane as we drove into the city. She knew it too, as she smiled at me many 
times as she dropped her eyes down to my bulging crotch.

I had all ready paid the escort agency by credit card so there was no 
transaction to be completed. The car drew up at her building and, desperate 
with desire, I leaned close to her so the driver couldn't hear. "Can I come 
up?" I croaked. "Please?"

Judy smiled at my bulging pants and shook her head. "Hey," she admonished. 
"You know the deal. I want to thank you though, I made some good contacts 
there." She opened her purse and pressed something soft into my hand and 
closed my fingers around it. "A small gift for later,' she whispered, her 
eyes twinkling. In a flash she swept out of the car and into the building.

As we drove back to my apartment, I opened my palm and gasped in surprise. 
Panties! Black satin panties. I resisted the urge to bury my nose in them as 
my cock pulsed wildly in my trousers.

I walked hurriedly to the elevators after the cab deposited me at my 
apartment building, the panties warm in my pocket. Fumbling with the key, I 
opened the door, slammed it behind me and dropped my jacket over a chair.

Not being able to wait any longer, I pulled the panties from my pocket and 
held them to my nose so I could breathe the deep musky perfume captured in 
the black satin and lace. I almost came there and then.

Stripping off my clothes, I stood naked in the centre of my apartment with 
her panties pressed against my nose, my erect cock throbbing, when I heard a 
key in the lock. The sound didn't register for a moment but I gasped in 
shock when the apartment door swung open and closed behind Lucy Duivel.

Her laughing eyes swept me up and down as I blushed. "Well," she giggled. 
"All ready for some action, huh?"

"How did you..." I gasped.

"It's a company building, stupid. I told you I get what I want." She stood 
close to me and smiled down at my twitching cock and the panties dangling 
from my hand. "What do we have here?" she smirked. I dropped my hands in a 
vain attempt to cover my cock. "Don't," she snapped. "You forget I've seen 
it before. Where did you get these?" she asked, pointing at the black 
panties.

"Judy gave them to me," I croaked.

"What for?"

My face burned in humiliation. "Ah, I don't really know," I stalled.

"Give me a break! What did she give them to you for?"

"To jerk off in," I admitted softly.

"And you were ready to go when I interrupted you, huh?"

"Yes," I lowered my head in shame but my cock throbbed.

"Well," she said, arranging herself regally on the sofa. "Don't let me stop 
you."

"Ms Duivel," I began but she kept talking.

"It's just occurred to me that you think you've got those hooker's panties. 
I told you kid, hookers don't wear anything under their dresses." She smiled 
coldly at me. "Those are my panties, kid. I told the hooker to give them to 
you."

I reeled in shock, my mind swimming. I had lost control here and had no idea 
what was going on. "Ms Duivel," I whispered. "What do you want?"

"I want to watch you jerk off and, to prove I'm a nice person," and she 
laughed at that, "I'm going to let you jerk off into my panties."

In spite of myself, my eyes ran over her crossed legs up to the hem of her 
sparkling red dress. If those were her panties, she was naked under the 
dress!  Incredibly aroused, I knew I wanted to cum and would do what she 
wanted. Maybe after it, she would leave me alone.

"Of course," she said mildly as she lit a cigarette. "You have to ask me." 
She blew smoke as she looked evenly at me. "I like it when young naked men 
ask me to jerk off. It gets me horny."

I recognised the cue and, for some reason, her demand made me even more 
aroused. "Please Ms Duivel, can I jerk off?"

She smiled in delight. "A quick learner. I like that. Jerk off where?"

"Can I jerk off into your panties?"

"Have you smelt them?"

"Yes, Ms Duivel."

"Do you like the smell of my panties," she said in a husky voice.

"Yes," I whispered. "Very much." She seemed to know my dark desires so well.

"Do it again. " I buried my nose in the panties and inhaled deeply while my 
hard cock twitched. Overcome with the need, I wrapped the smooth panties 
around my burning cock and started to jerk off, my eyes closed in passion 
and in an attempt to block out my humiliation. Groaning, I spurt into a 
searing orgasm, pumping load after load of cum into the panties.

Chest heaving, I lowered my head in shame as I held the sodden ball of 
panties. Ms Duivel applauded. "Bravo," she giggled. "You looked like you had 
fun. Thank me."

"Thank you, Ms Duivel," I mumbled.

"For what!" she snapped.

"Thank you Ms Duivel for letting me jerk off into your panties," I said, 
full of a deep shame.

She rose and turned towards the door, cigarette elegantly held in one hand. 
"Wash those out, Chrissie," she sneered. "I want them back. And don't jerk 
off again." With a bang of the door, she was gone, leaving me alone with my 
shame and wet panties.

The next day, I warily went to work with the freshly washed panties in my 
briefcase, hoping last nights exhibition for Lucy Duivel was the last. I 
treasured my new job and my new city and I didn't want to do anything to 
jeopardise them.

It wasn't until mid-morning that my phone rang.

"Christopher Brownlow," I answered.

"This is Nicole, Ms Duivels assistant. Ms Duivel would like to see you soon. 
Are you available?

"When?" I croaked and, for some reason, my cock started to swell.

"In thirty minutes?"

"Of course," I said my mouth dry. " Where?"

She laughed at my stupidity. "Level thirty seven, in the executive suites." 
She was still laughing when she rang off. After making sure no one could 
see, I stealthily removed the washed panties from my brief case and put them 
in my trousers pocket. I couldn't understand why my cock was straining to 
reach erection as I thought of what might happen in thirty minutes time.

At the appointed time, I stood in front of Nicole's desk and introduced 
myself. She was a pretty dark haired woman about my age dressed in the 
businesswoman's chic of suit and dark hose.

"Ms Duivel will be with you soon. Please take a seat."  Nervously, I sat on 
the edge of the leather chair and waited while sneaking glances at Nicole's 
legs in her short skirt.

Finally, the door opened and Lucy Duivel stood smiling at me from the 
doorway. Dressed in a charcoal suit with an elegant blouse and grey hose, 
she was stunning. "Come in Christopher," she said, holding the door open. 
"How are you today?" she asked as I darted past her and into the office. Her 
perfume was everywhere and was almost intoxicating.

I stood uneasily in the centre of the office and, in spite of myself, 
enjoyed the breathtaking view. It was a corner office, of course, and the 
extraordinary New York skyline filled the vast expanse of glass. The door 
closed and she was standing close to me. "You have something of mine?" she 
said and I blushed at the memory.

"Yes, Ms Duivel," I rushed and handed her the panties.

"Washed?" she inquired as she examined them and I hoped Nicole wouldn't 
enter the office then.

"Yes, Ms Duivel."

"Did washing them get you hard?" she asked shrewdly.

I hung my head, wondering how she knew. "Yes, Ms Duivel," I answered softly.

"You didn't jerk off?" she demanded and I shook my head. "Great," she 
smiled. "Sit down Chris," she said, pointing at two sofas near the window, 
separated by a large wooden coffee table. I sat, furtively trying to 
rearrange my hard cock in my pants, and waited. She sat opposite me, crossed 
her legs and I stole a glance at her nylon-clad legs.

Idly, she toyed with the panties in her hands while she clinically examined 
me. "I guess you feel embarrassed and humiliated about last night."

"Oh yes," I gushed. "Ms Duivel, I'm sorry and so embarrassed about the whole 
incident. I don't know what to do if....."

"I don't care," she said mildly, interrupting me in full flight. "I don't 
care how humiliated you feel." I sat back in shock, confusion welling up in 
me. "All I care about is whether you obey me. And, last night you obeyed me 
so I'm thinking about rewarding you, Christopher. Would you like that?"

My cock swelled again. "Ah, yes. Of course," I said, my mouth dry.

"I'm thinking of setting up a strategic workgroup on marketing outcomes for 
our new product ranges. I could include you in that group. It would be a 
small promotion for you."

"Promotion. Ms Duivel, I don't know how to thank you! I promise I will apply 
myself to...."

Her eyes bored into me and she spoke slowly. "I'm offering you a deal. Do 
you accept?"

"Yes," I said eagerly.

"You will obey me?"

"Of course."

"Without question. That's the deal," she added meaningfully.

"Ms Duivel, I have no problem with...," I gushed but I suddenly stopped when 
she moved her hands apart and stretched taut the panties.

"Prove it. Kiss these panties."

The shock must have played across my face but she showed no emotion as her 
steely eyes bored into me. Face burning, I gulped and leaned forward over 
the coffee table. "No," she snapped. "Kneel at my feet." Suddenly conscious 
of the broad expanse of glass surrounding us, I forced myself to rise and 
then kneel at her feet. My cock shifted and swelled in my pants as I stared 
at the taut expanse of black panties in front of my face. I pursed my lips 
and tenderly kissed the satin panties.

"Good," she said softly. "I'm going to call Nicole in and you will keep 
kissing those panties."

I recoiled in shock but I wanted that promotion. "If you say so, Ms Duivel," 
I mumbled, kissing the panties once more.

"Great," she smiled and she leaned close to me. "Are you hard?"

"Yes Ms Duivel."

"Would you like to jerk off?"

I glanced at the glass and the skyscrapers peering down at us. "Yes," I 
croaked.

"Later," she said, tossing the panties onto the coffee table. "Get up, kid. 
You can sit down for a while." She glanced at my bulging crotch. "Until that 
goes down, anyway. I don't want you scaring Nicole." Ms Duivel uncrossed and 
then crossed her legs, the rasp of nylon tickling my sensitive cock. "This 
could be the first of many promotions, Christopher. Who knows, you could 
break the record and be the youngest person to get to the executive suites. 
You want to know who holds the record, kid?"

"Yes," I said numbly, my mind swirling in confusion and the humiliation at 
what I had just done.

"Me. And I'm a tough act to beat."

"Yes, I know," I said ruefully.

She laughed at that. "I'll launch the memo on the new workgroup at close of 
business today. If," she paused coldly, "you continue to obey me."

"Of course, Ms Duivel."

"Ok. Great.  Be at this address at one this afternoon." She slid a card 
across the coffee table to me. "Let's see if you have what it takes."

I picked up the card and saw it was a beauty salon. "Yes, Ms Duivel," I said 
woodenly. I was going to stay in New York, no matter what. And I was going 
to get to the thirty-seventh floor.



I gave my name to the pretty receptionist in the lobby of the beauty salon. 
The decor spelt money, money and more money and was very sophisticated.  A 
pretty young black woman in a chocolate coloured smock appeared at my side. 
"This way," she said, leading me away from the reception to a small corridor 
to the side. The smock was short and I examined her bare legs as she walked 
in front of me to a small elevator. "This is for our private clients," she 
explained, pushing the button to summon the elevator.

We rode to the top in silence and she made no secret of the fact she was 
examining me with a strange smile on her face. I followed her to a light 
filled room that was set up as a beauty salon for one.

"I'm Anita," she said. "Take your jacket off and sit at the basin, honey." I 
did as instructed and relaxed as she shampooed my hair, enjoying the touch 
of her long fingers on my scalp. After seating myself at a mirror, Anita 
quickly cut and styled my hair. As she was finishing, Lucy Duivel casually 
walked in and sat in a comfortable leather chair.

"Ok, what do you think?" Anita asked.  I started to answer when I realised 
she wasn't asking me.

"Looks great," Ms Duivel answered. "Just what I imagined." Anita had done a 
great job and I kind of looked like a young Hugh Grant.

"Ok. What about the next thing, Mam?" Anita asked hesitantly, glancing at my 
reflection in the mirror.

"Sure," Ms Duivel said. "Christopher," she said, looking directly at me. 
"Take all your clothes off."
Shocked, I opened my mouth to protest but I saw the hard look in her eyes 
and I wanted that promotion.

Slowly, I stood and stripped my clothes off and placed them on a table until 
I was stark naked in front of the two women. Anita smiled, as she looked me 
up and down while Ms Duivel affected a bored look. To my horror, I felt my 
cock stir.

"Lie on that, honey," Anita said and for the first time I noticed an 
examination bench, complete with gynaecological stirrups in the corner of 
the room.

Reluctantly, I clambered up and when she tapped the stirrups with her 
fingers, I placed my feet in them so I was lewdly and wantonly exposed for 
all. Grinning, Anita produced clippers and, with a loud buzzing noise, 
started to cut my pubic hair back to coarse stubble. The vibration of the 
clippers ran through me and my cock leapt to attention, waving in front of 
Anita's smiling eyes.

The noise stopped and she left me for a moment, leaving me exposed on the 
bench with my hard cock throbbing. Lucy Duivel stood next to the bench and 
smiled down at me. "Great stuff, kid. Guess you will obey me after all."

Anita returned and I felt the sensuous tickle of a shaving brush as lather 
was applied over my recently harvested crotch. "No sudden movements," warned 
Anita and I watched as she expertly used a razor to completely denude my 
crotch. When the remains of the lather was removed with a warm towel, my 
hard cock stood exposed in a hairless terrain.

Both women looked down at me with smiles on their faces and I noticed that 
Anita had a small black jewellery case in her hands. "I got to tell ya," she 
said, staring at my hard cock. "I can't do this while he's like that."

Lucy Duivel laughed. "No problem. Kid," she said, looking down at me, 
"you're all hard. Want to cum?"

I blushed. "Yes," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Yes, Ms Duivel," I said loudly. "I would like to cum."

"You know what to ask me. Wait," she said suddenly. "Anita has done a great 
job so you can ask her." Lucy turned to Anita. "Have you seen a man jerk 
off?" she asked conversationally and Anita shook her head, a strange smile 
on her lovely face. Ms Duivel turned back to me. "Ask," she commanded.

My face burning with humiliation, I looked up at the young woman. "Please 
Anita," I stammered. "Can I jerk off?" She giggled and nodded so I ran my 
fingers around my throbbing cock. Both women watched me keenly as I started 
to pull and jerk it.

"Keep your eyes open," Ms Duivel said sharply when I started to close them 
so I looked at the two women as they watched me masturbate. With a groan, I 
spurted into the air as I pumped and pumped until I slumped back, chest 
heaving and with cum running down my hairless crotch.

"That's it," Ms Duivel said. "Show's over."

Giggling, Anita wiped me with another towel as my cock subsided. She opened 
the jewellery case and produced a strange ring with a curved silver tube 
attached, which she threaded my shrunken cock through. Numb, I watched as 
the ring was snapped around my balls. As she used a small device to tighten 
it, she instructed Ms Duivel. "These screws are recessed and only this 
special tool unlocks them so don't lose it." The device felt tight around my 
genitals and my cock, in the silver tube, was pointing downwards over my 
balls.

"That's the thing," she said, moving back to admire her handiwork.

"Great," Ms Duivel said. "You can get dressed, Christopher." As I dressed, 
Ms Duivel paid Anita and left without a word.

Embarrassed, I straightened my tie as Anita watched me, the device feeling 
tight around my genitals. "She's really got you now, man."

"Possibly." But I was going to get that promotion, I thought as I moved 
towards the door.

"Hey," she called after me. "Make sure you sit when you pee, man. Or you'll 
make a mess." Giggling, she shut the door and I waited for the elevator.

I threw myself into my work for the rest of the afternoon and became so 
focused I didn't notice when people started to go home. Troy stood at my 
workstation and waved a piece of paper at me. "Guess I got to congratulate 
you," he said. "When did you know you were moving up?"

"This morning," I said truthfully. "I got called up to Ms Duivel's office."

"Oh yeah?"

"It was a surprise. How long has she been with the company?"

"I don't exactly remember," he said vaguely. "Seems like forever."

"She's an interesting woman."

"Watch her, buddy. She's a tough bitch."

"Is she?" I said, feeling the tightness around my cock. You don't know how 
tough, I thought.

"A real ball breaker," he said and I had to silently agree. "Nice little 
group you're in." He offered the memo and I took it, looking for my name. 
There were five names in the new group, mine, Tom Longeron, Thelma Byrd, 
Rebecca Lorenzo and Sandra Wallace. A cosy little group of two men and three 
women.

Troy studied me carefully. "You look different."

"I had my hair cut during lunch."

"Oh yeah, right. So, you're moving up. So long eleventh floor. Hello 
seventeen. When do you move?"

"I don't know."

"It says that Sandra Wallace is the Project Leader. Guess she'll tell you. 
Catch you later, man. I've got a little honey waiting." He left and I felt a 
twinge of envy. With the device encasing my cock, it wasn't possible for me 
to enjoy a `little honey'.

"Hey," Troy called from the elevator. "Almost forgot. A package came for 
you. It's next to my desk." The doors closed and I was alone in the office. 
Slowly, I walked to Troy's office, the device feeling strange around my cock 
as I moved.

The package contained a small mobile phone, a single door key and nothing 
else. I examined them both for clues but found none. Switching the phone on, 
I packed up and went home.

Once home, I shook off my pants and carefully examined the metal tube and 
ring that encircled my cock and balls. It was fitted very snugly and I 
couldn't see any possible way of removing it by myself. Sighing, I perched 
on the toilet to pee and wondered if success was worth all this. I had to 
admit that I felt a tingle sexual anticipation though and wondered what Ms 
Lucy Duivel had planned.

I changed out of my business clothes into more casual attire and sat to 
watch TV when, suddenly, the mobile phone rang. "Hello," I said hesitantly.

"Go to the top floor, apartment 14b and wait for me there," Ms Duivel said 
and rung off.  That sexual tingle came back as I picked up the door key that 
came with the phone and walked quickly to the elevator.

Apartment 14b was more spacious than mine and had furniture and furnishings 
of better quality. Nervously, I perched on the edge of the sofa and waited. 
It wasn't long before Lucy Duivel swept in, closing the door behind her, 
still dressed in her charcoal business suit.

I jumped up to greet her. "Good evening, Ms Duivel."

"There's some champagne in the ice box. Open it and pour me a glass." I 
quickly did so and placed the bubbling glass on a small table next to the 
sofa as she made herself comfortable. She hung her jacket and sat down, her 
large breasts prominent in the tight silk of her blouse. "Strip," she said, 
sipping the champagne.

Without hesitation, I stripped naked while she watched. From now on, when 
you are told to come here, you will waited naked. Understand?"

 From now on? How long was this little game going on? "Of course, Ms Duivel."

She smiled at the device around my genitals. "How does that feel?"

"Uncomfortable," I said.

"Is that a fact?" she smiled cruelly. Slowly, she uncrossed her legs and 
slid her skirt up. I gasped when I saw she was wearing stockings and garters 
and my cock swelled in its prison, causing a ripple of pain to ride through 
me. She laughed when she saw my grimace. "Guess I've got that under 
control." Ms Duivel slid her skirt down and sipped the champagne. "I've kept 
my end of the bargain," she said. "You keep yours and everything will be 
ok."

"Ms Duivel, how long do I have to keep this on?" I whined, gesturing at the 
device.

"Until I say so. You could call this agreement off and find someone to 
remove it. Probably have to use a metal saw or some cutting tool." I winced 
at the thought and she giggled. "I'd pay to watch that so let me know if you 
decide to get it cut off." She languidly lay back on the sofa. "I like 
having control and I like having a handsome naked young man totally under my 
control. It's very horny and it will become addictive for you. Come here."

I moved before her and she motioned me to kneel before her. Smiling she 
widened her legs and I stared into the darkness of her skirt, my cock 
rebelling against the tube. "Take my shoes off." My hands trembled as I 
slipped her high-heels off and held her warm nylon covered foot in my palms. 
"Massage," she said dreamily and I caressed and kneaded her feet, provoking 
little murmurs of pleasure from her.

Slowly, she allowed her legs to slide apart, revealing her grey stocking 
tops, garter belt and black silken panties. My cock ached in its tube as I 
stared at her panties while massaging her feet. Suddenly, I sensed her 
looking at me and raised my eyes to her smiling face. "Would you like to 
kiss my stockings?" she said huskily and I nodded frantically. "Kiss them," 
she instructed and, fighting the pain gripping my cock, I leaned forward to 
gently let my lips kiss the nylon of her stocking tops, my cheek caressing 
the white soft skin of her inner thigh.

"Does it hurt?" she asked huskily and I raised my face from the nylon.

"Yes Ms Duivel," I whimpered, hoping she would take mercy on me.

"Good," she whispered and she pulled the crotch of her panties aside and I 
gaped at the pink puffy lips of her pussy surrounded by trimmed blonde hair. 
It was like I was hypnotised by the lewd sight and I felt drawn by the musky 
perfume of her cunt to bury my face in her depths. Her dew lay on the ridges 
and lips and I could tell she was incredibly aroused. So was I and yet, I 
was also in terrible pain as my cock vainly fought against its metal prison.

My tongue played over her pussy and I felt her fingers play with my hair as 
she guided me closer and closer until my face was mashed against her 
wetness. My cock screamed in torment as I licked, kissed and probed until 
her trembling thighs gripped my head and her hand pulled my face tight 
against her.

A throaty guttural moan escaped her, her beautiful face drawn in passion, 
eyes closed as she lolled on the sofa in orgasm and rode my face to her 
ultimate pleasure. Exhausted, I slumped back as she released me, my cock 
aching and I begged with my eyes for relief.

After a moment, she shakily stood and disappeared into what was obviously 
the bathroom. She was again the composed woman of power when she returned. 
Putting her jacket on, she smiled down at me. "Have a good night," she said, 
opening the door.

Frustrated, incredibly frustrated, I watched the door close and I swore I 
could hear her laughing.

I never knew there were so many beautiful sexy women in New York City. 
Everywhere I went, the sight of beautiful women in short skirts and nylon 
covered legs caused my cock to ache in my chastity belt.

After a uncomfortable night, I had managed to get to the office and sipped a 
steaming black coffee at my desk. A blonde woman dressed in a black business 
suit and black nylons appeared next to my desk. She had a wide perfect 
smile, her long red hair touching her shoulders and the whiteness of her 
fair skin accentuated by the black of her business dress. I couldn't resist 
slyly examining her legs and my cock twinged.

"Hi," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Sandra Wallace, the project leader. 
Welcome aboard."

"Thank you. It's very nice to meet you."

"Oh, English," she smiled. "You know, you look a little like Hugh Grant."

"Some people do say that." Unfortunately, I thought, I can't avail myself of 
the pleasures that he did whilst visiting the United States. Perhaps, he's 
had a chastity belt installed as well after his divine madness.

"We have a work space on the seventeenth and our preliminary meeting is in 
half an hour. Bring your things." With that, she swept away and I busied 
myself packing my few belongings into a cardboard box.

The elevator was full of sweet smelling exciting women and my poor cock 
groaned all the way to the seventeenth level. I found the work space and 
immediately found myself surrounded by Sandra and two other women I took to 
be Thelma and Rebecca. After the initial greetings we sat around a small 
table, drinking coffee.

"Ok," Sandra announced. "First things first. As you have probably heard, Tom 
has quit the company."

"Caught himself a job at you know who." Thelma volunteered. I must have 
looked blank. "Our competitor." She explained. "We're not supposed to 
mention their name." She winked.

"Oh, I see," I said, conscious of the mixture of perfume that was 
circulating around me and of the three sets of legs in short skirts and 
nylon. My cock ached.

"Yeah, he's gone," Sandra continued. "So we are it. Christopher, you get to 
be our token male." She smiled, the other two giggled and I smiled weakly at 
them. "No more resources so we have to get on with. Let's get started."

At the conclusion of the day, I begged off their invitation to join them for 
a drink and rushed home, hoping the mobile phone would ring. I desperately 
ached for relief but I spent the night in restless solitude.

I spent the weekend aimlessly wandering the city, clutching the mobile phone 
and hoping for a call that never came. At night, I tossed and turned in 
frustration. The mere sight of female legs in nylon, a glimpse of cleavage 
or a tight ass in jeans made my cock surge into painful constriction within 
the chastity device. What's more, my groin was incredibly itchy as the 
public hair started to return.

Monday was agony and the three women unconsciously drove me to the edge of 
insanity with the sound of their legs crossing and uncrossing, their perfume 
and their touch. When I entered my apartment that night, I was on the verge 
of sobbing with frustration.

I sat slumped on the sofa staring at a blank television screen when the 
mobile phone chimed. Leaping up, I fumbled with it and held it to my ear 
with a trembling hand. "Hello?"

"Be upstairs in ten minutes. You know the rules." Click.

I scrambled for the key and rushed upstairs to the apartment. Once inside, I 
stripped my clothes off, prepared the champagne and wandered 
self-consciously through the apartment until I heard the key in the lock.

Ms Duivel was dressed in a black jacket and skirt, black hose and a pale 
green blouse. Her blonde hair was hanging free and a glittering gold chain 
glimmered around her neck.  Silently, I handed her a bubbling glass of 
champagne. Her hard eyes examined me over the rim of the glass as she sipped 
and, then, walked into the bedroom.

I waited until I heard her voice. "Come here, Christopher." She was naked 
except for her black lace bra, black lace garter belt and sheer black 
stockings, her pussy exposed as she calmly lay on the bed, her head propped 
up on pillows and her legs spread. A sip of champagne and then she placed 
the glass down, a cold smile on her lovely face as my cock squirmed 
fruitlessly. "You know what to do," she said firmly. "It shouldn't take 
long, kid. I'm like a firecracker from some other fun I've been having."

She was right. I bent to my task, my tongue performing tirelessly while my 
squashed cock strained and ached. Her juices were slick on my face as I 
finally rocked back on my heels after she had released my head from the grip 
of her thighs as her orgasm passed.

Ms Duivel sensuously smiled down at me. "Not bad, kid. You're getting 
better. Does it still hurt?"

I nodded. "Please, Ms Duivel," I pleaded softly. She knew I wanted the 
chastity device removed.

"No," she said calmly, reaching draining her champagne glass.

My eyes pricked with tears. "Please," I begged. "I need relief. Please."

She shook her head. "Not until the project's over, kid. Now, get me some 
champagne."

Mentally numb with a pain filled cock, I slowly walked to the kitchen where 
I filled her glass. Ms Duivel was getting dressed when I returned and I 
watched her full breasts wobble in her bra as she bent to pull her black 
lace panties on.

"You know," she said conversationally. "The clitoris is the only organ whose 
one function is sexual pleasure? We girls are the sensual and sexual 
machines, aren't we."

I couldn't tear myself way from watching her dress and I know she knew that 
as she took her time straightening her stockings, adjusting her skirt and 
blouse. Finally, she stood dressed except for her heels. "Put them on," she 
said, gesturing at the shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed. I knelt and 
slipped her shiny black heels on her nylon covered feet, my hands shaking as 
my fingers touched her warm flesh and nylon. My cock throbbed and my groin 
itched.

Ms Duivel stood and smiled down at me. "A deal's a deal," she said. "Unless, 
you want out?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she tucked her handbag under 
arm. I thought about it, I must admit, for an instant. The idea of being 
able to jerk off tantalised me but I knew the moment I had cum I would 
regret my decision in my quest for the thirty-seventh floor.

"Time for me to raise the ante. Here," she said, tossing an envelope on the 
bed. "Look at that before you decide. If you call the deal off, maybe I 
should post them on the web?" She walked to the door. "Look at them and try 
to remember what it felt like." Laughing loudly, she walked out of the 
bedroom and out of the apartment.

Scrambling to my feet, I ripped open the envelope and four photographs fell 
out. To my horror, they were photographs of me at the beauty salon when I 
was urgently jerking off. The camera, hidden as it was, must have been 
behind Anita and Lucy Duivel and showed me in explicit detail. In one 
photograph, I appeared to be looking directly at the camera as cum spurted 
from my cock.

Anita's words came back to haunt me, `She's really got you now, man.' She 
had known the camera was there!

Sinking to my knees in desolation, I realised Ms Duivel had, indeed, raised 
the ante.  Prompted by my greed, I had put myself in her control but now, my 
stupidity had propelled me further into her clutches.

I glared down at the silver metal gripping my genitals and a lone salty tear 
ran down my nose.

I stood in front of Sandra's desk, trying to appear relaxed and nonchalant. 
"How long do you think this project will take to complete?"

Sandra looked up, leaned back in her chair, rested her hands behind her head 
and crossed her legs. She was wearing a short skirt as usual with tan hose 
and I had to stop myself from inadvertently licking my lips as I watched her 
legs move. "We've done the work breakdown," she said, "and we know what has 
to be done. If I had to guess, I say about six weeks."

Six weeks! No, my mind screamed, not six weeks! "Oh, I see," I said 
crestfallen and started to walk away.

"What's up?" she called after me. "Got some other plans?"

"No, no," I said as I sat. "I thought it would be excellent if we managed to 
complete it earlier than expected. Perhaps even set a new company record."

Sandra sat forward. "Hey, man, you're right. But we have to do a great job."

"Oh, of course. I agree."

 From that moment on, I worked like there was no tomorrow, cramming each 
minute of the day and night with work that pushed the project forward. The 
only time I had off the project was when I slept or went to the bathroom.

One morning, Sandra showed Thelma and Rebecca some work I'd completed 
overnight that shaved another day of the project and Thelma looked at me 
curiously. "Jeez, man," she exclaimed. "Get a life!"
That's exactly what I'm attempting to do, I thought, resisting the urge to 
scratch my crotch.

The mobile phone didn't ring for the next two weeks as I slaved over the 
project. It helped take my mind of the seething sexual frustration that 
plagued me. Sandra, Thelma and Rebecca relentlessly teased me simply by 
their presence. Their legs, a small gap in their skirts, their perfume or a 
tight blouse brought excruciating pain to my genitals. I suspected I knew 
why Ms Duivel had selected those three for the project team.

Finally, it was over and I slumped over my desk as the girls made plans to 
celebrate. They were annoyed when I declined to accompany them but I knew 
the combination of those women, a few drinks and dancing would be painful to 
by cock.

Instead, I collapsed into my bed and slept the night away, dreaming of 
sexual freedom.

As usual, I was at my desk early, drinking coffee and tapping at my keyboard 
when Thelma arrived. "Don't you ever sleep?" she snapped, dropping her 
handbag on her desk.

"Not that well," I admitted.

She snapped the lid of her take away coffee cup and moved close to my desk. 
The fawn skirt and white blouse she was wearing accentuated her dark skin. 
"What keeps you awake at night, man," she grinned. "The girlfriend?"

"No," I said, staring at my computer screen and attempting to ignore how 
close she was.

"The boyfriend?" she said in dismay. "Are you gay?"

"Of course not!" I defended.

"No? How come you've never made a pass at Rebecca and me? Don't you find us 
attractive?" she pouted and I gulped as my cock ached.

"Of course," I croaked. "You're both very attractive. I just didn't think it 
was appropriate to date coworkers," I finished lamely and she perched on the 
edge of my desk, her long dark leg flashing in my vision while her perfume 
washed over me.

"Oh, it's appropriate," she mocked. "You just gotta ask, man."

I licked my dry lips, trying to think of something to say when the phone 
rang. "Hello?" I answered softly.

"Hi there, Christopher. Nicole here. You got some time for Ms Duivel today?"

"Of course I have," I rushed, watching Thelma leave from the corner of my 
eye. "When?"

"How does three sound?"

"Wonderful."

"If you say so. See you then. Have a nice day."

As I replaced the phone, I wondered where I could go to seek refuge from the 
constant unconscious teasing of my female colleagues. As the others arrived, 
I made my decision. "I'm spending the morning in the research library," I 
announced as I gathered my things.

"Doesn't that guy ever relax?" snapped Rebecca as I pushed past them.

I was outside Lucy Duivel's office well before three. "You're eager," Nicole 
said as I appeared in front of her desk. The minutes seemed to drag but, 
finally, the door opened and she stood there in all her wonderful glory. So 
striking in a midnight blue suit, dark hose and a cream blouse. "Come in, 
Christopher," she said, smiling and I eagerly hurried past her into the 
office. "Sit down," and I sat on the sofa while she sat opposite me again. 
Hungrily, I watched as she crossed her legs, my cock yearning in its metal 
prison. Was that a glimpse of thigh?

"I hear you do good work."

"Thank you, Ms Duivel," I said, tearing my eyes from her legs to her smiling 
face.

"You find my legs so fascinating?" she teased and I blushed.

"It's just that it's been......"

"It's been a while, hasn't it, kid," she finished, uncrossing her legs and 
letting them drift apart a little. My mouth was dry and my throbbing cock 
ached as I stared into that dark space between her legs. Abruptly, she 
closed her legs. "Is there something you want to ask me?"

"Please Ms Duivel," I said brokenly. "I can't go on like this. I need this 
device," I said gesturing at my groin, "removed so I can get some relief. 
The last three weeks have been torture."

"I feel for you," she said coldly. Ms Duivel suddenly smiled and sat back. 
"I've got a deal for you. Are you listening or are you just going to sit 
there staring at my legs?"

"I'm sorry, Ms Duivel. I'm listening."

"Option one. I take that thing off and you get to blow your wad as often as 
you like but, no more promotions. Option two, you leave it on and you get 
another promotion." She smiled cruelly at me as my mouth fell open.

"Ms Duivel," I protested.

"Or, because I'm a kind hearted bitch, you can have option three."

"Which is?" I asked warily.

"I take it off, you get blown and I put it back on for as long as the next 
deal. But," she emphasised, "you get a promotion. A smaller promotion than 
option two but a promotion all the same. What do you say, kid?"

"I don't know," I stammered.

"Best of both worlds. You get to cum and you keep moving up the corporate 
ladder. Sounds a good deal to me." She stretched and stood, moving to stand 
by her large desk. "Make up your mind. Which option?"

I thought quickly. Three weeks had been manageable and I did want to keep 
moving up but the photos! "What about those photos?"

A thin cruel smile appeared on her face. "Hey, I forgot. They're part of 
option one. Chose option one and I post them on the web and to every woman 
in the business. My mind must be going, how could I forget that?" she added 
dramatically and I felt sick to my stomach.

I had no choice. "Option three," I said softly, head bowed.

"Speak up."

"Option three," I repeated.

"Which is?"

"I get to cum, you put it back on and I get another promotion. And the 
photos stay secret," I added quickly.

"Kid," she grinned. "You're learning. We got ourselves another deal."

I looked up hopefully. "When do we, you know...."

A small cold laugh. "This evening." She tossed a hotel key to me and I 
caught it with a clatter. "Be in that room at six thirty and wait for me in 
the usual manner."

Shakily, I stood and walked out the door.
For some reason, I felt embarrassed as I walked along the hotel corridor in 
search of the room. The hotel was plush and I thought I saw Ms Duivel in the 
lobby bar with a group of women but couldn't be sure. At last I found the 
room, used the key the room and entered, closing the door behind me.

It was a large room with a bed along one wall and a small table and two 
dining chairs around it. Stripping my clothes off, I hung them in the 
closet. I caught a glimpse of myself in the closet mirror and smiled 
ruefully at the silver contraption around my genitals. A grow excitement 
rose in me as I realised I was going to get relief and my imprisoned cock 
groaned in pain as it fought vainly for full erection.

At least I didn't have to wait long as Ms Duivel bustled in flushed with 
drink and carrying a large bag. Without a word, she moved one of the dining 
chairs to the centre of the room facing the bed. "Sit here," she said and I 
did. Quickly, she used leather straps and buckles to fasten both my wrists 
to the arms of the chair and my ankles to the chair legs. Feeling helpless 
and vulnerable, I looked at her in shock and a small hard laugh escaped her 
luscious lips.

"Shut your eyes," she said and, after I did, I felt her paste a strip of 
tape across the closed eyelids. "And to make sure you can't peep," she 
laughed and I felt a strip of cloth, a blindfold cover my eyes completely. I 
was in total darkness and totally at her mercy.

"Kid," she said, a note of triumph in her voice, "in a few moments, a gang 
of gals from the office are going to come up here and watch you get your 
rocks off." I stiffened in shock and she laughed. "You should have asked for 
more details of the deal, baby."

"No, please," I cried,

"It's going to happen. And here's the fun part. You won't know who's seen 
you like this and who now knows about that little cock killer you wear. I've 
told them to keep quite and just to watch but I'm sure they'll enjoy seeing 
your cock and watching you cum. This will be fun."

"Please, Ms Duivel, don't do this to me."

"Could be Nicole or maybe Sandra. Who knows? The good thing is they will 
know and you won't!"

"Please," I croaked.

"Hey, you wanted to cum. You chose option three."

"Please, don't," I sobbed.

Suddenly, a knock on the door focussed my attention. "Too late," I heard her 
say with gJudy and the door opened. "Ok ladies," I heard her say. "You know 
the rules. You can't say anything as we don't want him to recognise your 
voices."

I strained to hear something, anything, as it had occurred to me that Ms 
Duivel might be pretending to have other people in the room. "There he is, 
girls." Suddenly, I heard a number of soft giggles as if they were stifled 
with hands or handkerchiefs. She wasn't kidding, there were other people in 
the room!

"As you can see, he's all locked up." More soft giggles and a louder girlish 
titter. "And he's been locked up for about three weeks." My straining ears 
heard a sharp intake of breath. "So girls, you see your very presence has 
been driving him mad for that time. He's been constantly horny, he just 
couldn't get hard!" A small burst of faint laughter and I guessed there was 
four or five, maybe more, extra women in the room.

I felt a finger fumbling on the device and, suddenly, my cock was free. 
Relief! "Do you still want to try?" I heard Ms Duivel ask someone. "Ok, go 
ahead," she said and I felt someone stand close to me, a soft hand behind my 
head and a soft nervous giggle.

Lush lips pressed against mine in a long gorgeous kiss, a kiss I lost myself 
in and my cock jumped into full rigid erection, to the muffled sound of much 
giggling from my audience. I felt ashamed, humiliated and used.

"Now, that's a good salute to your kiss, girl," Ms Duivel's taunting voice 
echoed in my head. A hand circled my throbbing cock. "Now," teased Ms 
Duivel. "Do you feel that nice little hand around your cock, Chrissie?" 
Muffled giggles. "Do you?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Yes what?" she demanded.

"I feel a hand around my cock."

"Wonder whose hand it is?" she taunted and I couldn't help myself as the 
weeks of pent up desire and the humiliation of the moment hit, causing my 
cock to swell and I gasped and groaned in exquisite release. The hand 
quickly withdrew as my sperm spurted out to a muffled exclamation of 
surprise. "Well," Ms Duivel pronounced. "Obviously got too much for him. No 
big deal. Champagne for everyone!" She moved close to me as I heard the 
clink of glasses. "Got to keep you occupied," she said. I felt some thing 
slipped over my ears and orchestral music filled my head. Headphones 
connected to a portable stereo so I couldn't hear their conversation.

I don't know how long I sat there in my imposed darkness, listening to 
music, naked while I imagined them laughing and talking about me as they 
enjoyed champagne. It felt like hours but was probably only forty-five 
minutes or so.

Ms Duivels voice seemed loud after the music. "Welcome back, Chrissie," she 
said and a few giggles echoed. The giggles were a little louder now, 
probably from the effects of the champagne. "Ok, we still have the other 
thing to do."

Head bowed as someone wiped my crotch and then, I heard a buzzing noise. 
"Who wants to do it? Ok, here you go." The buzzing grew closer and I felt 
pressure on my groin as some anonymous woman shaved the returning pubic 
hair. I felt so embarrassed and so ashamed.

Something wet which I took to be shaving foam was applied. "Now, no sudden 
moves, Chrissie." Laughter and I felt a razor over my balls and groin. I was 
wiped clean and my cock stirring all through the operation, now stood 
proudly.

"He's really back," Ms Duivel laughed and a burst of female laughter filled 
the room.

Suddenly, a different set of lips settled on mine and inflicted a long 
lingering kiss that caused my cock to throb wildly. Gentle fingers ran down 
the underside of the shaft and I groaned through the kiss.

"Two high school kids in the back seat at the movies," laughed Ms Duivel. 
"If only you knew who it was, Chrissie!" A hand closed around my throbbing 
cock with a squeeze and gently held it. I groaned again.

"This is how it is, kid," she said and I heard that cold tone in her voice. 
"One of the ladies from the office is going to jerk you off as a reward for 
all that work you did. You just won't know who it was and everyday, when you 
walk through this building, you'll wonder who jerked you off. Was it Nicole? 
Or Thelma? Perhaps, the janitor? Someone you haven't met?" Muffled laughter. 
"You'll wonder who shaved you and, of course, you'll wonder who else knows 
your cock and balls are locked up. I tell you, this is great!"

Giggles erupted around me and the hand holding my cock gently squeezed it. 
"Now, ask her to jerk you off," she demanded and I knew there was no way 
out.

"Please jerk me off," I whispered.

"Louder."

"Please jerk me off," I repeated, my cock pulsating in her hand.

"And what will you do for her?"

I wanted to cum badly now. "Anything," I croaked as the hand started 
squeezing again.

"Lick pussy?" More titters and giggles around the room.

"Yes, I'll lick pussy," I said amidst the laughter and the hand around my 
rigid cock now started pumping slowly.

"Everyone's pussy?"

"Yes, yes," I said desperately as the hand ceased its motion. "Everyone's 
pussy."

Ms Duivel laughed loudly. "Hey, we need a code word so you'll know who is in 
our sorority. Any suggestions?"

"No Ms Duivel," I said softly.

She leaned closed to me so I could smell her perfume. "How about something 
dear to your heart, Chrissie? How about panties?" Loud laughter. "You love 
panties so that's the word. Got it?"

"Yes Ms Duivel." I wanted the hand to move again.

"So, tell us what happens when a woman says panties to you?"

"I lick their pussy," I said, face burning in humiliation as a round of 
applause sounded in the room.

"I think he's got it." Loud laughter and the clink of glasses. Suddenly, the 
hand started moving and it felt wonderful as it slid up and down my slippery 
cock. My body tensed, I groaned and took deep breaths as the mystery woman 
jerked me off. "She's a quick learner," announced Ms Duivel, followed by 
raucous laughter.

Tensing, I groaned loudly and shuddered in an orgasm long overdue as she 
pumped me dry. Another round of applause surrounded me. Embarrassed and 
humiliated, my head sank to my chest and unseen hands wiped me clean. 
Another set of hands threaded my shrinking cock through the curved metal 
tube and, once again, I was locked up in the chastity device.

Through a fog, I heard Ms Duivel say goodbye, the door open and movement as 
the anonymous women left the room. The door closed and I heard loud laughter 
through the closed door.

The blindfold and the tape was removed and, blinking in the sudden light, I 
felt Ms Duivel remove the restraints from my wrists and ankles. The silver 
metal around my cock glittered in the light and I felt sick at the thought 
of another period of enforced celibacy.

"The memo about your new promotion will go out tomorrow," she said, looking 
down at me.

"Thank you, Ms Duivel," I said numbly.

"One more thing," she said, sliding her skirt up. "Panties." Sighing, I fell 
to my knees and performed my oral duty. At least, this time, my cock didn't 
ache that much.




I didn't go back to the office but walked sluggishly back to my apartment, 
my mind confused. Sitting on my sofa I nervously wondered what my greed for 
success had got me into.

Suddenly, the mobile phone rang and a female voice told me to be upstairs 
within ten minutes. Slowly, I went to the upstairs apartment, stripped and 
waited. A key in the door and Judy Daimon, appearing ravishingly beautiful 
in a simple grey skirt, hose and blouse, entered with a hard smile on her 
face.

"You!" I gasped.

"Hello, Christopher. Looking good," she grinned, looking me up and down.

The emotions connected with all the events swept over me and I was on the 
verge of breaking down. "You!" I said brokenly. "You got me into this!"

She calmly sat on an easy chair, crossing her long legs. "Did I? How?"

"I didn't know you were a hooker!"

A throaty laugh escaped her. "A hooker? Interesting. I thought there was 
champagne?" she said, looking around. Grudgingly, I poured a glass and 
handed it at her and, as she took it, she grinned at my metal chastity 
device. "Lucy can be a real bitch," she giggled and I started to sit down. 
"I didn't tell you to sit!" she snapped and I quickly stood up. "Kneel 
here," she said and I knelt next to her legs as she smiled down at me. 
Slowly, she parted her legs and I stared at the crotch of her white panties 
underneath her tan pantyhose.

"I didn't realise how easily men could be controlled until," she paused and 
smiled coldly, "I evolved."  My cock ached as I stared under her skirt. "I 
guess that hurts," she taunted and I nodded slowly, unable to tear my eyes 
away. I remembered Ms Duivel's pronouncement that "hookers don't wear 
panties". Reluctantly, I watched her panties disappear as she closed her 
legs.

"Christopher, I'm not a hooker." I gaped at her in shock. "Lucy and I work 
together. We do deals, interesting deals. Every time you deal with us, you 
lose more and more control until you give us all of your essence. Look at 
this," She drew a red velvet jewellery case from her handbag, snapped it 
open and revealed a thick gold chain. "Lovely, isn't it?"

"Yes," I whispered. I couldn't believe my eyes as the chain slowly rose from 
the case and moved, on its own volition, through the air to wrap itself 
around my bare throat. My fingers clutched at it but it locked itself 
tightly in place and I felt it pressing against my skin. "Very lovely," she 
said, smiling at my surprised and frightened expression.

"But," I stuttered as she calmly placed her glass on the table and stood 
before.

"Useful device," she said coldly and I felt the chain tighten and slowly 
start to choke me. Panicking, I tore at it with my fingers but it remained 
fast as I gasped for breath while it strangled me.

Suddenly, it relaxed and I fell forward, gasping and coughing as I searched 
for air. "Very useful," she said as she moved to the door. "We have a dinner 
party tomorrow night and you'll be my date. Dinner suit, please and be ready 
by six." The door closed behind her and I fought with the fear that washed 
over me.

As I dressed, a thousand crazy notions ran through my mind and I found 
myself in front of my computer and tapping Duivel into the search engine. It 
took a while but soon the definition of Duivel left me shivering in fear:

"The word "devil" is a corruption of the Greek diabolos .  In the plural it 
was also used to
name Satan's gang of spirits. Also duivel, " (The Encyclopedia Mythica )

My hands froze of the keyboard as I stared at the screen, my heart pounding 
wildly. I'm not a religious man but at that point I became very, very 
afraid. I searched for `Daimon' and the result made me shiver:

"In the narratives of the Gospels regarding the "casting out of devils" a 
different Greek word
(daimon) is used." (Easton Bible -includes definitions. Thanks to Harry 
Plantinga )


I was doing deals with the devil! As my heart pounded, I nervously fingered 
the gold chain around my neck as I sought to remember the childhood fables 
of people who had sold their soul to the devil and wondered how I was going 
to escape this trap.

I tossed and turned that night with erotic dreams of a blood red Satan 
dominating the men of the world. Strangely, the memory of what I had been 
forced to endure caused my cock to ache in its shackles but the superstition 
around my discovery caused me to frequently wake in a cold sweat. By 
morning, I had convinced myself it was all fiction and the trick with the 
gold chain was nothing more than sleight of hand. Instead, I should be more 
nervous about meeting the group of unknown women who had seen me so exposed 
and exploited.

Incredibly nervous, I walked through the building lobby, eyes lowered, 
wondering if any of the women milling around me as part of the morning rush 
were in the hotel room yesterday. Again, the thought of what had occurred 
yesterday made my cock stretch against its confinement.

A few fleeting half smiles from passing women made me flinch in 
embarrassment. Did they know? Were they there? Did they hold me in their 
hand until I spurted uncontrollably? I swallowed and felt the gold chain 
under my shirt press against my throat

Sandra was seated at her desk when I entered and she greeted me with a 
smile. A simple action but one that made me inwardly cringe in 
embarrassment, thinking she knew.

"Hi," she said and I nodded, face blushing. "So, congratulations."

"I beg your pardon?" I said softly, face down.

"Congratulations on your promotion. What did you do to get up the ladder so 
fast?"

"I don't know."

She shrugged. "Ok, play it your way. I guess you've got to move up onto the 
twenty-third. That's where your office is."

I silently went about packing my stuff into another box while Sandra watched 
me. After a few moments, she left the area, shaking her head.

Thelma arrived and sat at her desk with a strange smile on her face, 
swivelling on her chair to face me. Dressed in a short grey skirt, white 
blouse and hose, she watched me pack my belongings.

I nodded to her and kept my head down but, out of the corner of my eyes, I 
saw her legs start to slide open. My cock swelled at the sight of the tan 
nylon covered legs parting and I winced in pain. At last I finished and 
started walking to the door.

"Let me help you," she said, whisking a folder off the top of the pile, her 
blue eyes boring into me.

"How kind," I muttered, "but I can manage."

"Hey, I can help and I have the key to your office. I'm betting you don't 
even know where it is," she said and led the way.

Grudgingly, I followed her to the elevator and rode up to the twenty-third. 
All the way up, she smiled at me in that strange way, her eyes cold and I 
blushed under her scrutiny, guessing she was one of the women in that hotel 
room.

She led the way down the corridor, her ass swinging in that tight grey 
skirt, while I sheepishly trailed behind her, clutching the box of personal 
items Thelma unlocked an office and swung the door open. The buzz in the 
adjacent open plan office stopped for a moment as the staff watched us.

"I thought it was down there," I said quickly, pointing down the corridor.

She shook her head quickly. "Nope. Here."

I scurried past her in an office that just had the basic furniture in it and 
I realised it must have been empty for a long time. Thelma locked the door 
and casually sat on the big chair near the window,, tossing the folder onto 
the desk.

Swallowing, I placed the box down and stood frozen, hypnotised by her red 
fingernails caressing her legs. Slowly, she raised the hem of her skirt and 
the tube crushed my cock.

"In pain?" she asked innocently.

"You were there," I croaked and she grinned broadly, nodding. "Were you...?"

"The one that jerked you off?" she grinned, her legs spread apart. "No. I 
would have but she chose someone else. Maybe next time."

I gaped at her spread legs. Thelma was wearing stockings, garter belt and no 
panties so her dark bush was plainly visible, causing my cock to hurt 
terribly.

"Panties," she said throatily, her tongue licking her red lips.

I knelt before her, glancing out the window at the New York skyline and the 
buildings that were close. Her fingers lightly caressed my hair as I stared 
at her naked cunt. "They won't know it's you," she whispered and I lowered 
my mouth to its task.

It probably didn't take that long as she was so wet, so aroused but it felt 
like hours as I knelt in front of the open windows licking and sucking while 
my cock contracted uselessly within its metal prison.

Finally, she came with a throaty growl that transform to a high pitched 
squeal within seconds as her legs clamped around me. She rearranged her 
clothing while I wiped my face.

"Not bad," she said. "It's nice not having to worry about anyone else 
satisfaction, just my own. I could get used to this. Ms Duivel promises me 
more good times."

"Don't," I said quickly. "Don't get involved with that woman. Don't make any 
deals."

"Why not?" she said icily. "I do what I please and you lick my pussy or any 
other girls pussy when we say. And don't forget it," she said as she 
unlocked the office door and opened it slightly.

Thelma stopped and turned to me with a cruel smile. "You want to know?" she 
sneered. I was puzzled and it showed. "Do you want to know who jerked you 
off?" she snapped irritably and I nodded. "Look'" she said, pointing out 
into the busy office. "There," she said and I followed her pointing finger 
to Donna standing next to her cart, chatting with some women.

I reeled in embarrassment and shock. Donna was so young, so innocent. 
"Donna?" I croaked and Thelma nodded.

"Yep. She learnt about sex and power. You get a good education around here." 
Laughing she walked out, leaving me alone in my new cold office.

Wearily, I sunk in a chair and held my head in my hands. Duivel and Daimon 
were using me to corrupt more people within the office, to gain control of 
them through their lust and greed. All of this brought about through my own 
greed and stupidity. I groaned.

The doors opened and closed again. I looked up and a red headed woman 
dressed in a white business suit smiled down at me. "Who are you?" I 
demanded, angry but, at the same time, overwhelmed by her beauty.

"I'm Angeline, Christopher. You look miserable."

"You work here?" I asked, ignoring her last comment.

She laughed a mellow melodic sound and she grinned at me. "No. I'm just a 
visitor. I've come to see you."

"Oh?" I gestured at a chair and she shook her head. "I won't sit down," she 
said calmly. "My skirt is short and I don't want to cause you pain." I 
blushed. Did everyone know, I thought? My head sunk as I wallowed in my own 
self-pity and humiliation.
"Christopher," she said and I raised my head. "Be warned, Christopher, that 
there will only be three deals. And you've completed two. Be very careful. 
You are involved in a very wicked game, a game with ancient rules. You can 
just say no. It's that simple." Her warm smile washed over me and she 
serenely left, leaving me stunned and confused.


The entire day was spent hiding in my new office, a frightened animal 
cowering in its cave. The third deal would happen soon and, I guessed I 
would barter for my soul and, perhaps, the souls of the other targeted 
victims. This was a scam of the hugest proportions.

I slunk home, prepared myself for the mysterious dinner party and sat around 
waiting in my dinner suit. At six, the sound of a key, the door opened and I 
immediately stood to greet my demon.

Lucy smiled at me; her beauty was both breathtaking and menacing. Her black 
dress was short with long sleeves and a low neck, a glittering diamond 
necklace resting on her breasts. Those hypnotic long legs were covered in 
black hose and ended in glossy black stiletto heel shoes.

"I see you're ready for action," she smiled. "On the surface, any way. Let's 
see what's under. Drop your pants," she said sharply.

Resignedly, I slipped my pants around my ankles and stood there in my under 
shorts. A wave of her long fingers, red fingernails glinting in the light 
and the shorts disappeared. I gasped and she smiled at my imprisoned cock. 
"That's better," she cooed. Frozen, I watched her hand slide her dress up, 
revealing sheer black pantyhose covering her naked bald pussy and my cock 
contracted in the tube. Laughing at the look of pain on my face, she dropped 
the dress. "Tonight, I am a hooker," she giggled. "A hooker without 
panties."

Without another word, she left and, after frantically pulling my trousers up 
over my naked crotch, I followed her. A long limousine waited at the kerb 
and a tall female driver, resplendent in cap and uniform, opened the door 
for Judy. She smiled at me as I slid in next to her, my eyes fixed on her 
long legs in the sheer nylon.

As the driver moved into her seat, Judy calmly pointed at the floor 
immediately in front of her. "Here," she said and, red faced with a faint 
smile on the driver's face, I knelt in front of Judy, staring into her 
pantyhose covered pussy as she parted her legs. Her long fingers tickled my 
neck as she guided my face into her intimate warmth until my nose and mouth 
pressed against the nylon mesh, her musky aroma engulfing my senses.

"Be intoxicated," she whispered. "You'll soon be addicted to my smell." I 
thought I heard a sweet giggle from the driver as Judy's thighs covered my 
ears. Lost in her intimate perfume, Judy's fingers stroking my hair, I felt 
the car pull away and move into the bustling New York traffic.

I lost count of time, lost in my pussy world but it wasn't long before the 
car stopped and Judy gently pushed me away from her warm crotch. Judy led 
the way into the Baden Building and the elevator whisked us to the dizzy 
heights of the thirty-seventh floor.

The elevator chimed, the doors parted and I followed Judy to a large 
conference room where the centre table had been dressed for dinner with a 
crisp white tablecloth, silver candelabras, crockery, cutlery and crystal 
wine glasses.

A large mirror looked down on the scene and reflected it all, doubling the 
opulence. Judy surveyed the room and smiled. "Perfect," she said, looking at 
me. "Perfect except you should be naked." A wave of her fingers and I was 
suddenly naked except for the gold chain around my neck and the chastity 
device imprisoning my cock. She giggled as she lit a cigarette. "Our guests 
will be impressed," she said, blowing smoke through those pouting red lips.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my naked reflection in the mirror amongst 
the elegance and opulence of the room. Judy suddenly gestured through a 
door. "Our guests are arriving. Wait in there," she instructed and I walked 
into a darkened office with a large desk and leather chairs. The only light 
coming into the room was through a large internal window that looked into 
the conference room. I suddenly realised it was the reverse of the mirror 
and was used to secretly observe the other room.

The door closed behind me and I was suddenly enveloped in silence, even 
though I could see Judy through the glass chatting with a chef and a waiter, 
both female. Feeling sick to my stomach, I looked around the room for a seat 
and suddenly saw Ms Duivel seated at the polished desk, calmly watching me.

"Ms Duivel," I exclaimed, flushing as she looked me up and down.

"I see the entertainment for the evening has arrived." I glanced at the 
secret window and then releasied she was talking about me. Judy was greeting 
a group of women who had entered the dining room. With a sinking feeling, I 
recognised Thelma, Rebecca, Donna and Sandra.

"Please, no," I whispered.

She laughed cruelly. "They'll get to enjoy their power over you as you crawl 
under the table to service them."

"Ms Duivel," I protested weakly.

"Why not kid? They know about you anyway. Donna gave you a nice hand job, 
didn't she? Time for you to repay the favour. After dinner, we can talk 
about your next promotion."

"Let's do a deal now," I said quickly, glancing at the scene behind the 
glass. Judy was pouring wine as the women sat at the table.

Ms Duivel narrowed her eyes. "Deal? What are you saying?"

I knew what I had to do. "The third deal. Let's do it."

"Ok," she said calmly. "You get the thirty-seventh floor at last. Power. 
Money. All of it."

"For what?" I asked but I all ready knew the answer.

"You let me in," she said. "Into your mind. I take over. You've guessed what 
it was all about."

"I thought you wanted my soul."

Ms Duivel laughed loudly at that. "If that's what you call it, I'll take it. 
Well?" she demanded.

My heart was thumping, as I stood naked in front of this creature. "I don't 
want the thirty-seventh floor or any of it. I want something else."

She examined me shrewdly and I moved towards her so I could see her and the 
scene behind the glass at the same time. Judy had sat next to Sandra and was 
stroking her upper arm as they talked. Ms Duivel saw what I was looking at. 
"Sandra likes women, even though she doesn't know it yet." She laughed and 
swivelled in the chair so I could see her legs. "You want something else? 
Getting greedy?" she sneered.

"I want them," I said gesturing at the glass.

Ms Duivel laughed loudly. "Is that all? You can have them. Got revenge in 
mind, have we?"

"No," I said, trying to remain calm. "I want you to let them go. Make them 
what they were before you started corrupting them."

Ms Duivel froze, all expression gone from her face. "Don't try this game," 
she said meanly. "You can't win."

"It's not a game."

Time stood still in that room until suddenly, to my shock and amazement, Ms 
Duivel began to change before my very eyes. My fear hung in the room like a 
heavy blanket as Ms Duivel morphed into another shape, a man, tall, lean and 
evil. He was older, dressed in an elegant European suit, English shirt with 
double cuffs, jewelled cufflinks and a woven Italian tie. His silver hair 
was long and brushed back in an understated elegance.

My cock shrivelled in fear and, for the first time, the chastity tube felt 
loose. I watched the whites of his eyes turn dark and his pupils glowed like 
two burning embers in a black night.

"You are attempting something quite foolish, Brownlow." His voice was deep 
and resonant while his accent was educated European where English was a 
second language.

"I'm trying to do the deal. The third deal," I croaked.

"You can't fool me," he said. Suddenly, his eyes bored deeply into me. "I 
don't believe it," he said. "You are sincere. You mean it. You will 
sacrifice yourself for them?"

"You get me for them. Let them go."

"I see," he said and his eyes retreated to normality as he studied me. 
Suddenly, he waved his fingers and the crowd of women in the conference room 
disappeared.  "The Wicked Game we play is for the winning of the Chosen One. 
Although we play for high stakes, there are ancient rules even I must abide 
by."

"We have a deal?" I asked, confused and wondering what my fate was now.

"No," he said standing and adjusting his shirt cuffs. "We can not deal. Your 
genuine willingness to sacrifice yourself prohibits the conclusion of our 
transaction. The Game goes into recess."

"You mean...?"

"Yes, Brownlow, you're free." The gold chain flew from my neck and the 
chastity device slid free, falling to the floor with a clatter, leaving me 
totally naked. Suddenly, I felt very vulnerable.

His eyes started glowing again as he stared at me, hatred reflected in the 
dark pools around his glowing pupils. "However, I can slightly interpret 
those ancient rules. You will never experience an orgasm through that 
pitiful thing again!" he hissed, his long finger pointing at my shrivelled 
cock. Fear washed over me as he gestured once again and I was suddenly 
enveloped in a crackling blue light like some movie special effects. He 
laughed loudly, his head tilted back as I fell to the floor.

Pain cocooned me and I cried out as I slumped into merciful unconsciousness.

My eyes blinked and I looked around slowly. I was seated at my old desk on 
the eleventh floor, Troy was seated at his computer in his office and there 
was the general noise of the office around me. Troy looked up, saw me and 
smiled. I smiled back.

I felt very strange, almost detached, waking from a horrible dream. Glancing 
down, I saw a handbag on the desk and a woman's black suit coat draped 
across the computer. Reaching for it, I saw my hands were smaller, my 
fingernails long and red and a thin bracelet around my wrist.

Suddenly, Angeline was next to me, her hand resting on my arm. "Don't 
scream," she said quitely. "Relax. Come with me." She steadied me with her 
arm as I slowly stood, the horror rising in my throat as I saw I was dressed 
in a white blouse, black skirt, hose and high heels. Angeline scooped up the 
handbag and the coat, then led me to the elevator.

Numb, I walked into the empty elevator and stared at the mirror wall. A 
young beautiful woman, brown eyes wide in horror, stared back at me as I 
leaned against Angeline.

"I'm a woman," I gasped. "He turned me into a woman!"  The woman in the 
mirror stared back at me. I still had dark hair and I could see similarities 
between the old me and this woman. The hair was fashionably short, breasts 
annoyingly large, long legs and a slim body. I felt smaller, vulnerable and 
lost. "Why?" I whispered to the mirror and Angeline helped me to slip the 
coat on. A beautiful businesswoman in the mirror looked back at me.

The elevator doors opened and Angeline bustled me outside the building to a 
bench in the corner of the building forecourt. I looked down at my high 
heels. "How can I walk in these things?"

"You just did," she reminded me as she pointed at the bench. "Sit." I dusted 
the bench down and sat, arranging my skirt to the top of my knees. Angeline 
smiled at the gestures. "You have all the skills of a twenty-five year old 
woman. You just have to let your subconscious guide you through. Soon, you 
won't remember being a man."

"Never!" I protested my voice strange to my ears. "I want to change back!"

Angeline shook her head and sat down next to me. "Only he can undo this. 
He's manipulated time as well as your body. Look in your bag."

My handbag, I thought weakly as I pulled my passport from it. My name was 
now Christine Brownlow and the young woman in the passport photograph smiled 
back at me. "Why?" I asked softly.

"It's a wicked game we play, Christine. The Wicked Game for the soul of the 
Chosen One."

"Whayt do I do now?"

"Live your life. Enjoy it. As a woman."

"No! I want to change back. I'll never accept this! I have to find him."

"Don't chase him," she warned. "Don't attempt to play the Wicked Game. You 
need to know the ancient rules."

"Then tell me!"

"No," she said calmly. "I can not do that." She stood. "Goodbye, Christine. 
Live a full life."

"No, wait! Don't leave me alone like this."

She smiled. "You're never alone. Let your subconscious help you with the day 
to day things and your soul will guide your though the spiritual."

"Angeline!" I protested but she vanished, leaving me alone on the bench. 
Slowly, I walked back into the building, disorientated from the peculiar 
motions of my body. Feeling incredibly self-conscious as I joined a group of 
people in the elevator. A tall man looked down at me and smiled. Ignoring 
him, I examined my feelings. Was I attracted or interested? Was I repulsed 
and revolted? The answer to both of these questions was a resounding no. I 
was dead inside, numb with no feelings at all.

Weakly, I sat at my desk and examined the contents of my handbag. All 
identification and credit cards bore the name Christine Brownlow.  Apart 
from the usual female paraphernalia, I found the chastity device nestled at 
the bottom. Remembering my own peculiar past, I stared at it for a moment 
and tried to imagine what was between my legs now. Nothing.

"Ah," said Troy, "the secrets of a woman's handbag."

Startled, I looked up and he smiled down at me and at the cosmetics 
scattered over the desk. His expression changed. "You ok, Christine?" he 
asked, concerned. "You seem a little pale."

"Just a little off colour," I said, my feminine voice strange to my ears.

"Why don't you take off a little early?" he said. "Get some sleep."

"Thanks. I might do that." Donna wheeled her cart to my desk.

"Hi, Ms Brownlow."  With a coy smile, she dropped the gilt edged invitation 
to dinner with the Chairman on my desk. D j  vu, I thought as I stared at 
it. Christine Brownlow and partner it said.

"Thanks, Donna. Donna," I suddenly said. "Do you go up to the thirty-seventh 
floor?"

Donna looked at me strangely. "We only have thirty-six floors."

Shocked, I tried to maintain a business facade. "Of course. That's what I 
meant."

"I go up there. Why?"

"Just curious. I've never been there," I said and Donna smiled as she 
wheeled her cart away.

"Got your invitation," Troy observed smugly. "Don't worry, it's not a small 
event. About a hundred and eighty people. The Chairman and his executive 
team like to welcome all the new graduate recruits. There'll be about You 
won't get to talk to Will Macintosh or any of his execs but you've got to 
go. If you want up the ladder, you can't be a no show."

"I have to go?" This was like Ground Hog Day, except I was Bill Murray in 
drag.

"I just said that. You'll dazzle them with that royal charm of yours. You'll 
need a date."

"Maybe," I said puzzling over my next move.

He cleared his throat. "I'll be there as a supervisor. So, if you're looking 
for company," he said, tailing off and I looked up at him.

"Thanks. I'll go by myself."

He looked crestfallen but I felt nothing. I just didn't care. "Ok," he said, 
recovering. "I'll see you there. You should take off early, Chris," he said 
as he walked back to his office.

I took his advice and left work early. Self-conscious, aware of the rolling 
movements of my new body and the prominence of my new breasts, I avoided the 
stares from passing men as I headed home. The apartment was the same except 
for the obvious signs that a woman lived there. Female clothes hung in the 
wardrobe and in the drawers while an array of cosmetics dominated the 
bathroom.

Cautiously, I stripped and excamined my new body. Large breasts, long legs 
with a neatly trimmed black bush between them. I felt neither aroused or 
repulsed. Slipping into a large fluffy robe, I sat at the table and, to my 
utter surprise, cried.

When the tears and the sobbing subsided, I wiped my eyes, blew my nose and 
made a strong cup of tea. I couldn't let it end like this.

This Wicked Game. I wondered if I was still a player or just on the 
sideline. I wanted my old body back and I knew I had to find Duivel in 
whatever form he or she inhabited. I had dealt with the Devil and half-won. 
If I was to be Christopher again, I had to get back into the game.
Nessus29@hotmail.com


.....................................................................
All Nessus stories are archived at www.asstr-mirror.org/Index.html in the Authors 
Section under Nessus. A small number of Nessus stories can also be found at 
www.literotica.com and Chastity Belt only stories can be found at 
http://www.tpe.com/~altarboy/
......................................................................


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