Transformer

Brad smiled to himself.

Walking down the street, arm in arm with Corine, a rare beauty that did not know she was beautiful, a rare woman that did not know her power. Instead, Corine was circling in his orb. This shy, R&D developer, with the incredible IQ, couldn't see her own power.

Three weeks now. He had played her. Dinners, dancing, gifts. He could smell the desire from her. She had given him gifts. The beaten gold bracelet, the diamond studs, the dainty filigreed cross around his neck. She obviously had money, and she didn't mind lavishing him with what she could buy with it. She was still as beautiful to him as when, on the balcony, she had appeared out of the fog, a gossamer ghost in shimmering gold.

This would be easy.

Tonight he decided.

"Shyly" she had agreed. But he saw the desire in her eyes. He wanted HIS place. She demurely suggested hers, though, she said, it was quite out of the way. That was an understatement. Leaning back in the plush leather seat of her Mercedes, he allowed himself to be driven, god only knows where. For some strange reason, unlike him, he dozed while she drove.

It was dark. She pulled up to circular driveway. Ivy climbed the columns of the old money mansion, secluded as only the rich could afford, exuding class as only old money knew it.

He had struck the jackpot.

Up the winding staircase, a masterpiece walking in front of him, masterpieces lining the walls.

She was ready. There were to be no preliminaries, no fine wine, no old cheeses, just straight into this little girl's bedroom, four posted bed, frilly curtains, plush toys, very pink, young, fresh, virginal.

"There's a bathroom to the side there," she said tentatively. "Go freshen up if you'd like."

He knew what that meant. Go brush your teeth. (He knew there'd be an unopened tooth brush.) Go make sure you're clean. Make sure no other needs will interrupt us.

There was one other thing he needed to do, he decided. He wanted her to remember this, and he hadn't had sex with any of his other toys in a couple of days. He didn't want to cum too fast. He surely hoped she'd appreciate this. He removed his pants, and started to play. Gently rolled his balls, pinched his nipples, lightly stroked his glans and teased the rapidly swelling tip of his cock. It took only a few minutes. He didn't get semen in his hair. He cleaned himself with a hot facecloth, took another and quickly wiped his arms, and his chest. He DID brush his teeth. He was right about the toothbrush.

Should he walk into the room naked? Or should he tease a little. The latter might work well, so he decided on just his black jockeys. She'd appreciate the bulge and her imagination would run wild.

He expected her to have changed into something "comfortable" when he walked into the room. She hadn't. Still in the little gold dress, so light it floated, matching the gold in her hair, the gold flecks in her eyes.

She smiled at him, and he saw the golden flecks sparkle.

"Would you mind sitting?" she asked. Give me a few minutes to freshen up myself. "This is lovely leather in this chair. It will feel nice against your beautiful skin." He smiled. She had noticed.

He sat. It did feel nice. The room was warm and dry. He could live here. He smiled again. Better and better.

He heard the door open smoothly behind him. He turned slightly.

His jaw dropped.

The black was the first thing that caught his eye. The open crotch leather. The garters. The long boots. The black leather bra. The cane in her hand. After the first impression, he examined her more closely, becoming aroused at the new possibilities. He smiled. She thought she could play this game. He almost laughed aloud. Arms resting comfortably on the arm of the chair, he saw the look in her eyes. The gold flecks were deeper now, the eyes fiercer, the smile on her pleasant face had an ironic twist. He felt just a little uncertain for a second, but it passed quickly. He wondered what the Dick Tracey device on her wrist was.

She caught his glance. "You're wondering about this? Let me show you."

She held it close to his face. He saw the numerous buttons, all with little icons like something out of a sci-fi movie.

She pressed the first one.

The clamps snapped out of the chair. Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap Snap. Wrists, ankles, neck. He was immobile.

"I watched you mastrubate," she said. "You did that for me. How sweet. You may wish you hadn't though. But I appreciate the thought."

The eyes turned another shade. He thought he saw red this time. He was just a little nervous.

She took out a razor blade.

"Pity you left those jockeys on."

Deftly, with the skill of a surgeon, she cut them away. He breathed a sigh of relief. Too fast. With just a quick little very precise flick, she nicked his foreskin. He saw the drop of blood and let involuntarily let out a quick yelp.

"Lovely," she said. "This is going to be very entertaining."

She leaned close to him. Her breasts were soft. Her legs smooth, lean, well toned inside the black boots. The open crotch was the crowning glory. The golden fleece surrounding the pink lips of the moist introitus. Introduction indeed.

"Do you want me boy?" She still held the razor blade.

"Be VERY still. You wouldn't want me to be careless with this."

Very quickly she drew just a touch of blood from each nipple. Then she bent over and sucked.

She moaned softly. "Man milk. It feeds the soul."

"Now," she said. "How quickly can you cum for me? When YOU release, I'll release."

Despite the pain from his cock, from his nipples, he felt an arousal building deeply inside his balls. He may, in fact, be able to accommodate her faster than she thought.

She touched another button. He felt a tingling in his ears. Then another. The tingling turned unpleasant, like the beginning of an ear ache. Then a third button.

He screamed. A jolt of electricity ran from one stud to the other, and every nerve ending in his body tore at him.

She laughed. "BEAUTIFUL voice. This is THRILLING. I had no idea you'd be this entertaining."

The sweat poured; his teeth on edge; a slight taste of blood in his mouth where he had bitten his tongue.

"Did you like that bracelet? It's not really meant for your arm you know. Here. Let me show you."

She slipped if off his wrist. He tried to grab her, but his arms were held firmly by the clamps.

Slowly, very slowly, she slipped it over his cock, then around his balls. He felt the cool of the metal, strangely erotic.

She went back to her wrist. Pressed softly.

He actually heard it first. Then felt it. The "bracelet" contracting. He squirmed, as much as that was possible. She stopped.

"You'd be amazed at how tiny that can get."

"Lie down you arrogant little prick." Another button. The chair reclined, then flattened, and then another clamp sprung out, snapped around his stomach and then drew him tight.

"You stupid, ignorant, male fucker. Thought you'd hit the jackpot. Fuck the ass of a poor little rich girl and live off her for the rest of your life." Her laughter bounced off the walls.

"Remember what I said though. When you release, I'll release you. Promise."

She bent over him. Took his cock in her mouth. Slowly, skillfully, she teased it. Took it deep. Fondled his balls with the leather of her gloved right hand, pinched his nipple with her left, all the time sucking, flicking the head, then sucking again. He felt the juices building in his prostate. Rising to the base of his penis. She felt it too. Felt the expansion the was the prelude to his orgasm.

She touched the button. The pain tore through his temples. His body spasmed, but not his cock. He screamed. Even louder than before. She stopped. He wimpered. His body a mass of quivering pain.

"Corine," he pleaded.

"CORINE! CORINE! Don't call me Corine you useless piece of male shit. You thought I was a little princess? Call me Princess. Say it. Say it now."

"Princess," came weakly from his lips.

"No no. That's not good enough. Plead with your princess for mercy."

He did. Pleading. Sobbing. "Princess, please Princess. Please have mercy Princess."

She mounted him. She rode him gently at first. Smoothly. Taking him deep, then quickly and lightly just the first inch or two, playing him on her clit. Then deep. Then wild. She, cuming several times, but never giving him the satisfaction of hearing her pleasure. But he felt it. He felt the ripples, the hip thrusts of her orgasms. He felt his own juices rising again. She did also. Again the button.

Then the bracelet. Tighter.

"I could cut it all off with this you know, if I just press too hard or too long. I could castrate you right here, right now. One castrated prick of an arrogant prick."

He knew she could.

On and on it went. Sucking. Riding. Pain. Tender kisses. Vicious pinches.

To the edge. Then the pain.

She sat in front of him. Playing with her buttons. Looking deep into his eyes.

"Do you wonder what might have happened had you not sat in that chair?" Another button. Ropes snaked over the bed and the bed flipped upright. Another button. A wall rotated and chains hung from the hooks. Another button. The dresser morphed into a cross. More and more buttons. Clamps sprung on stools; blunt pointy objects protruded, worked in and out; metal masks dropped from the ceiling. The buttons and their possibilities seemed endless.

"My toys are my recreation. But one only man at a time, only one toy at a time."

"I tire of you."

He had no control of anything. His body wasn't his; his mind wasn't his; and his genitals certainly weren't his.

"Please Princess. Release me. Please." He pleaded.

He saw her eyes soften slightly.

She pressed the final button.

Again, he felt heard it first. Then he felt it. His ass. Something was rising beneath him. Slowly. Penetrating and vibrating. Slowly it worked its way. Warm. Something slippery running into his anus. The vibration directly on his prostate. The tip of the probe expanded. The warmth grew. His cock grew hard. Hard to bursting. The semen built at the base of his penis. The head of his cock swelled to enormous purple proportions. It swelled to pain. And he exploded. The semen fell back on him, burying him in a cocoon of lava that he could imagine them breaking him out of centuries later. Everything fell back into himself. He thought he was incapable of any feeling whatsoever.

She smiled. "I'll leave with one gentle reminder," she purred.

Reaching to his chest, she pressed the filigreed cross.

It grew warm. It grew hot. He smelled burning flesh. It took moments for him to realize it was his flesh burning. He screamed an endless scream. Then he melted into blissful black.

He awoke in the fog. On a bench. He faintly remembered a gossamer vision floating away from him. Possibly it was all a dream.The studs were gone. The bracelet was gone. The cross was gone. Except for the brand. On his chest. A beautifully ornate scar, in the shape of a cross, still swelling, still burning. Her mark.

The note he found in his pocket read: I had fun. Did you? My name is not Corine. Attempts to find me will be futile.

He knew he would spend a lifetime searching.