Compromised

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STORY OUTLINE/SYNOPSIS

On holiday in Jamaica Sandy Armstrong’s eyes lingered too long on three feminine items in a display window. By biometric means he was singled out as a possible sissy or the like, and the information sold to an international organisation.

Sandy receives a surprise visitor at his flat in London, a shemale, who seduces him and he eventually agrees, after some coercion, to attend the company’s training course. He is initially assessed to be a submissive and is started on a breast enhancing and penis reducing feminisation course. But he shows domination characteristics too and his destiny within the organisation is amended. But he has started the body conversion programme and that cannot be reversed. In chapter five he, now as Sandra, he loses his anal virginity and is set on a new course in ‘her’ new life as a woman and an active servant of the organisation.

My intention is, should my writing meet your approval, to continue the story quite considerably.

COMPROMISED

CHAPTER ONE

My destiny was hijacked because my eyes rested, a shade too long, on three items in a window display.

I was on holiday in a sprauncy hotel in Jamaica. One of the public areas contained a mock-up of a shop window, advertising a melange of goods that could be purchased at various outlets in the hotel complex and the nearby city of Montego Bay. It was a clever advertising initiative especially as the goods could be ordered remotely if necessary, and delivered in a matter of hours to the customer’s holiday apartment.

But very few holidaymakers would get to realise just how very clever it actually was. Six cameras were deftly hidden, using the very latest advances in telemetry, they measured the length of time the voyeur spent looking at a particular items or items. A woman studying bikinis might then be targeted by a swimwear shop or manufacturer, as would a keen golfer studying some snazzy studded shoes be similarly the subject of a sales initiative. And this was not merely a local enterprise. The information was available through a world-wide network via a company called The Eye-on Corporation. I was never to know this was based in the British Virgin Islands.

Of all the hundred and more items in the collage, the cameras recorded my eyes lingering on a sexy pair of women’s pink lacy knickers, a pair of 5″ red, patent leather high heels, and a particular photograph; one of eight. On the information collected in this manner a sophisticated computer threw out a list of characteristics that might appertain to my interests and desires. I was not to know then, out of a group of twelve personality traits, my No.7 was listed as “Possible Cross Dresser?” The American version of the report would perhaps say “Possible Sissy?” instead.

Of course, any red-blooded male, or female, could show interest in the panties and the shoes. But adding into the combination a photograph of a boyish woman, or a girlish boy, dressed in lingerie, triggered the possibility there could be something much deeper going on in my brain than would first meet the eye. One particular customer of the Eye-on Corporation was sent a print-out containing a list of names which, unbeknown to me, contained mine.

The Eye-on Corporation was started by a couple of geeks, Chris Bailey and Mervyn Dikes in a terraced house in the backstreets of Smethwick in England’s Black Country. Chris was a straightforward type of guy but Mervyn had his kinks and especially a penchant for deflowering virgins. Eye-on’s customers included a dating site called Fortunia Singles, owned and managed by Amir Patel. Mervyn and Amir connived together and were a lascivious pair. Unwittingly I was entering their sphere of influence.

At twenty-seven I had had an unremarkable history with women which I put down to lack or opportunity, as well as low self- confidence. The two went hand in hand of course. I tended neither to create, nor seize upon opportunities. I reckon I am good looking enough with my blondish hair with a red tinge, blue eyes, at fourteen stone perhaps a little overweight, but a tidy set of baby making equipment. I had had little chance recently to use the latter except for masturbating, which I enjoyed and indulged in regularly.

You want to know my name? It’s Sandy Anderson.

My work in the London & West Country Bank did not throw me up against a lot of eligible women and, my being a relative stranger to London, I didn’t have a circle of friends to draw on as I did back home. It seemed a perfectly natural thing for me to do in joining the Fortunia Dating Site. That involved, of course, meant my giving a great deal of personal information about myself in the process of finding the elusive “best match”. I wasn’t to know the extent of this information that would eventually leak to The Eye-on Corporation.

A profitable spin-off for Fortunia was offering holidays for their singles, mainly to selected venues round the Northern Hemisphere. The Hotel Belle Vista complex near Montego Bay in Jamaica was particularly favoured by Ümraniye Escort the dating site, and they would regularly make a block booking for a hundred and fifty guests minimum. Part of the booking-in process at Reception, explained to be a hotel security measure, was biometric eye recognition. Guests were promised confidentiality, but all those details were leaked to selective third parties who paid handsomely for the information. The most prolific user was The Eye-on Corporation no less. In that way my preference for pink panties, five inch high heels and a possible cross-dressing image, was attributable to me by name, including details of my home address and much, much more.

I had high hopes of scoring with a female or two on that fortnight’s trip to the West indies. If I believed half the claims made by the dating site I would be fucking a different woman every night should I had a mind to. I would have happily settled for every other night and, judging from the activities of the first full day, my prospects looked promising.

On that afternoon Fortunia organised a speed dating event. The women sat in an inner circle and the men in an outer, facing them. Each pair had exactly five minutes to make an impression before the men moved on two seats. I was hopeful of a number of outcomes. I would have been delighted to have gone further with at least half the women I briefly spoke to. Nobody could accuse me of being too choosy.

A girl called Ruth was not in that top ten of my fancies, but she was not slow in deciding that I was a good bet for her. As soon as the game broke up she was there, right in my face. Granted she had a tidy figure. I was especially taken with her pert breasts and I kept trying to imagine what it would be like with my mouth sucking her nipples. She was very tactile and touchy feely. Cleverly she created a lust in me and an expectation she might progress to my erogenous zones..

After the speed dating event she had stuck to me and we chose to eat in one of the complex’s many restaurants. Then we watched a show together and enjoyed drinks in a bar afterwards. When the time came for me to walk Ruth to her apartment I had good reason to expect to be invited in. I had already rehearsed in my mind, many times, the process I would employ in order to get into Ruth’s knickers. My friend, Penis, was taking the likelihood rather for granted and he was tenting my shorts and threatening to become out of control. Outside Ruth’s apartment door, she turned and offered me her lips. That was the signal I expected and was hoping for. I moved forward aware that my erection would likely poke her in her tummy, giving her a foretaste of what was on offer. As we kissed I was about to reward her with a gentle poke of my tongue but she firmly pushed me away.

“Thank you so much for a really lovely evening, Sandy. Can we do it again tomorrow, please?”

And that was very much the pattern for the rest of the fortnight. Ruth did not tell me she was happily married to a soldier away for a month’s ski training in Norway. Nor did she mention that a friend had booked the holiday for herself, but had to pull out at the last moment. Neither insured, nor offered a refund, the friend had given the package to Ruth as a present. Ruth knew, on a singles dating holiday, sex would be high on the agenda, so she cynically sought out the most likely male whom she could manipulate, keep on tenterhooks, and give her the security of having a partner.

I was, to some extent, weighed down with a sense of chivalry, not wanting to be seen to abandon Ruth. Besides, she also gave me some cock and bull of a story about keeping herself chaste before marriage. I did think she was rather too old for that malarkey. But by the time all this manifested itself it seemed that most of the other singles weren’t singles any longer. People had paired up to one degree or another. And Ruth did progress to giving me hand relief when I did at last, start to distance myself. Even then she made me feel it was more like a medical procedure than a sexual high spot.

I did consider venturing down to The Strip in Montego Bay, and buying the services of a black girl or two in one of the clubs. They looked so sexy. But one of the many guards who constantly walked round the holiday complex, a local man, warned me off with tales of muggings. At that juncture my courage deserted me.

And so, perhaps for all these reasons my eyes lingered on a pair of pink panties, red high heeled shoes and a particular picture, longer than they might have done in different circumstances. Nevertheless, the search parameters chosen by the Eye-on Corporation had managed to pick up something that certainly did have a ring of truth.

I placed myself entirely in the heterosexual corner when it came to sexual preferences, whilst conveniently forgetting the period when I would steal into my mother’s bedroom, at the start of puberty, and dress himself up in her lingerie. The thrill it gave me I could still feel, and sometimes I would employ that memory Anadolu yakası Escort to jerk myself off. There were also the incidents with a pub landlord who, for some reason, singled me out from all the other boys in the Sixth Form, as a likely candidate for turning. Did he see something special about me? By chance, I danced away unscathed. Sometimes I caught myself wondering what it would have been like being seduced by a much older man, and a fat smelly man at that. The imagery often still could send a thrill into my loins and wake up Penis.

I had had a few girlfriend experiences and a fairly satisfactory four-year relationship with Tina. We had even skirted around the subject of becoming engaged but, for various reasons, the relationship fizzled out. We never seemed to reach a pinnacle of passion which was probably the problem.

A couple of weeks after returning from Jamaica I received a visitor. My flat was one of thirty in a modern block in Central London, and it had the usual intercom system allowing visitors to buzz through from the street below. As I had so very few visitors, the summons from the hallway made me jump. I remember, it was seven o’clock on a Friday evening and I was contemplating nipping along to the Chinese Take-away. I hurried through to the hall and made to answer the call.

“Yes, who is it?”

“Is that Sandy?”

“Yes, who wants me?”

“My name’s Jackie. We haven’t met as yet. I’m a friend of a friend.”

“And what friend would that be?”

“The girl you met on holiday in Jamaica?”

“What, Ruth?”

“Yes, Ruth,” said the dispossessed voice.

I didn’t really hold fond memories of Ruth but, of course, my curiosity was triggered, and perhaps my sense of chivalry too. Just to have dismissed the caller would have been rude.”O.K. Flat twenty-six. It’s on the sixth floor. Take the lift.” I pressed the ‘Front Door Open’ option on the communicator.

Sure enough a less than timid knock came on my front door. I had had time to brush my hair and apply some deodorant to my armpits and chest. I opened the door cautiously and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. At least, that is how I described the scene afterwards to myself.

The woman was tall, probably a little shorter than me but her high heels gave her the advantage. Her green eyes locked on to the blue of mine and seemed to hold me there. My peripheral vision picked up ruby red lips, smart eye liner and mascara, bright red circular ear-rings, and all under a mop of tidy, ochre coloured hair.

“Why hello,” I choked out in a voice that did not suppress both my surprise and approval. I followed this up with, “would you like to come in?”

The flat was a mess. After, all, why should I have expected a visitor? I had so very few. I led the way to the living room and scrabbled to pick up pieces of clothing and dirty crockery. Jackie stood in the centre of the room with a face showing definite elements of amusement. When I had finished she took off her coat and handed it to me. “She’s evidently in no hurry to leave,” was the thought that went through my mind. “Can I…?” were the only words that escaped my lips.

“I can tell you now I have never heard of this Ruth before. You dropped the name into my lap and I used it to get myself in here with you,” Jackie confessed.

I was dumbfounded; literally lost for words. If she had been a male I would have been in fear of my life no doubt. All I can remember feeling was bewilderment. “So why?”

“I’m on a mission. Or shall I call it an assignment?”

“Call it what you like but it’s not telling me anything.”

“I’m here to test you out.”

I felt she was enjoying being elusive. She was playing with me and getting pleasure in the process. I didn’t know whether to try to be angry or conciliatory. “Test what out?”

“Let’s start with blow jobs.”

I spluttered, Had my ears deceived me?. “Blow job?” I could not believe it.

“Yes, for starters, you first.”

“Well, I can hardly give you a blow job.” I replied almost involuntarily.

“We’ll see about that,” she said. “Now off you go to the bathroom.”

“I don’t need a piss,” I protested, immediately sorry I had resorted to crude language.

“Go and wash your prick and your balls. I don’t much like the smell of stall sweat and urine. I don’t need to put up with it on this assignment. I’ll wait for you here. Have you a remote for the T.V.?”

This was totally surreal. If I thought it would do any good I would have pinched myself but I knew this was no dream. I thought seriously about abandoning the flat and leaving the intruder to face the police whom I would summon. The sexual excitement I had felt when I found the woman on my doorstep had dissipated entirely. But what if I couldn’t get through to the police or they took a long time coming? I could be left waiting in the street for what could be hours. I knew how tardy our police could be if they deemed my plight to be non-urgent. And what was the woman likely İstanbul Escort to do with the flat and my few possessions in the meantime? I decided to go one more station down the line with her.

I walked through to the bathroom and closed the door. The intruder shouted, “no need to close the door and don’t put your clothes back on.”

I stripped and took a quick shower. After drying myself with a big bath towel I wrapped it round my waist to allow me a measure of modesty. It did occur to me that I was in no condition to run into the street any more. I stomped back into the living room ready to give the woman full verbal. I was getting my dander up at last.

“Ah, that’s better darling,” she said soothingly, looking me carefully up and down. “That was very considerate of you. And what a fine figure of a man you are.” She was sitting on my settee; one leg up the other on the floor. She brought the second to the floor and sat upright, then patted the seat beside her, indicating that I should join her. “Come on darling, I’ll give you a little thank-you kiss.”

I was too stunned for words. I actually went over and sat beside her. She leaned over, put a hand on the back of my neck and pulled me over in order to kiss me. I resisted somewhat but she was strong and soon I had a big fat tongue in my mouth. It tasted of peppermint. I felt a huge sexual shivering take over my body and blood flood into my penis.

The kiss went on for more than a minute – I lost a sense of time in fact – and she kept up the pressure by pushing her tongue in between my lips as far as she could, To make me super-aware of its presence she wriggled energetically. Resistance was not an option; I had neither the power nor the inclination to resist her. And still in that mode she whipped away my towel uncovering my now rampant organ.

I just knew what was coming next and I was now praying for it to happen. If I hadn’t had her tongue rammed into my mouth I would probably have pleaded with her to suck my cock, and would have offered her anything in return. I was totally being swept away in a tsunami of lust. I might have dreamt of such a situation in an impossible adolescent fantasy, but this was very much for real.

Just as suddenly she shuffled her shapely bottom over and twisted her body to enable her to drop her head and work that expressive tongue on my cock. My poor mouth felt cheated at my cock’s expense. Tough. She licked my balls and up and down my organ and then sucked hard on the helmet. I came in her mouth just like that. I gave no warning because I had no discernible warning myself. The whole of my groin area was in a sort of sexual paralysis; a continuing state of tingling pleasure. She swallowed all my spunk – every last drop and made a point of thanking me. Of thanking me can you believe?

We lay there for a good five minutes and, left to me, we would have been there all night. Jackie broke the spell. “It’s my turn next, but in the bedroom. You ready for that?”

“Am I ready for that? Is the Pope Catholic?”

She laughed. “Come on, you can undress me. I have a nice little surprise for you, Honey.”

“Honey,” I said to myself. “She called me Honey.” One five letter word which, at that moment, meant a whole dictionary to me. The only cloud in my sky was whether I would be able to satisfy her so soon after shooting my load. I decided I would settle for the fun of trying.

Jackie took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. How sexy was that? We stood next to the bed and embraced. Then we kissed tenderly. I was unashamedly naked; glad to be so as it heightened the eroticism of the situation. She was wearing a dress that was buttoned all the way down the front. Still kissing I started at the neck and worked my way down. At waist level I stopped and opened up the two flaps I had released. She was wearing a white bra in which nestled her titties.

Jackie slipped the top of her dress from off her shoulders and , by action alone, indicated I should wrap my arms around her and unhook her bra. I would have perhaps taken more time about it but I sensed her urgency and my prick was getting into the game again. Her breasts were smaller than I had imagined them to be. I was too sexually focussed to have noticed that her bra was padded. On the smaller side her breasts may have been, but they were expressive in the extreme; her brown nipples hardening, desperate to be sucked by my reckoning.

Her dress had fallen to the floor and Jackie stepped out of it, putting her hands over mine in order to keep them in place on her bosom. That was just another one of her sexy moves. I pulled her away to suck on her nipples, one at a time, back and fore. At this stage she had her back arched and her head flung back.

I could have remained on that spot all night. I had never known such erotic behaviour, other than in my dreams of course. But eventually Jackie had other ideas and gently, but slowly, pushed my head down. I knew what she wanted and my mouth started slavering at the very thought of cunnilingus. I stuck the point of my tongue in her bellybutton on the way down, my head swimming in the mixture of her perfumes. I expected to pick up the scent of her vagina any second, but that alluded me for some reason. I was also surprised to find a raised area where her hairy triangle would be.

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