Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Sexual HERassment
by Suzi Johnson
"Listen, you moron, I've told you I'm not interested in dating you. You'd better get off my case, or I'll file sexual harassment charges against you!" These words should have struck fear into me, but I couldn't help myself. Since Mona had started working in my office, I found myself thinking about her constantly. She was drop-dead gorgeous, its true, but so were plenty of other women. But there was just something about her that told me that she was someone special, something that had me after her like a dog in heat.
"But please, Mona, I can't explain why, I just can't help myself," I said to her on that fateful Thursday morning that would change my life forever. "I'd do anything for a date with you."
"Anything covers a lot of ground, buster, and I doubt you really mean anything," she replied.
"No, really, I do mean anything, Mona, I do!"
"You've really got it bad, don't you, Steve? And, unless I'm totally wrong, you not only want to date me, but you'd love to get inside my panties as well, wouldn't you?" I was speechless, as this was the first acknowledgement of any kind she had made to me - usually she just spurned my offers for a date with a curt, "Sorry, no." "Well, admit it, if that's the case. You'd do anything for that, right?" she persisted.
"Y...yes, you're right, Mona, I would do anything at all." She was just so beautiful, with a perfect figure, and long, wavy auburn hair. I was ready to do anything she asked for any crumb of attention she would throw my way.
"All right, let's see if you really mean it. We'll have a date Saturday night, but here are the groundrules. I'm not going to spend a dime for this date, and..." I cut her off, "of course, not, I'll pay for everything, don't be silly." "Shut up and listen - don't interrupt me. I mean not a dime, not even for clothes. Give me your charge card, so I can shop for what I need." This startled me a bit, but without a word, I handed her my gold American Express card. What could it cost me, a couple of hundred bucks? I'd said anything, and I meant it. If she wanted to get a new outfit from the deal, so what.
That was the end of our conversation, and when I got a call at lunchtime from Amex, saying that a woman was trying to use my card for a $150 purchase, I authorized her using it, promising that I would send in the form for another card, for my "fiancee" as soon as possible. I expected that Mona would return the card that afternoon, but she stopped by my office to tell me that she needed a "couple of more tiny things, you don't mind, do you dear?" At that point, in for a penny, in for a pound, I thought, so I told her that was fine. I didn't think any more about it, but when she called in sick the next day, I wondered if we were still on for Saturday. My question was answered that afternoon, when she called me and said, "Don't worry, I just took the day to get ready for our date. Be here at eight o'clock, OK?"
"Sure, eight's fine, I'll see you then." I spent all Friday night and Saturday thinking about our date, that I was finally going to see her socially. I rang her bell at a quarter to eight, not able to control myself to show up exactly on time, a fact she commented on when she answered the door in a silken dressing gown.
"Well, since you're here, come in and make yourself at home. Let me make you a drink."
"I'll be glad to do that, while you finish getting ready," I offered, but she replied, "Oh, no, that would make me a terrible hostess, what would you like?" I told her a scotch on the rocks would be fine, and in just a minute, she returned with my drink. "I know I've been stand-offish at work, but I'm not really that way. Would you like to come upstairs and see me putting on the lovely things you bought me?" Would I? You couldn't have kept me away. I followed her upstairs, and lay down on her bed as she suggested, taking a deep slug of the scotch. She watched me, and as I felt the room begin to spin and get dark, I saw an evil smile on her face.
When I woke up, I was totally disoriented, and didn't know where I was. The room I was in was pitch-black, and I had strange sensations all over. I couldn't move, but I didn't know why I felt so weird all over. There was a strong perfume scent in the air, and then I remembered arriving at Mona's house for our date, and the drink I had. She must have drugged me. A voice came out of the darkness, "Awake yet, Stevie?" and the room was suddenly flooded with light. I couldn't even turn my head, but looking straight ahead, I saw Mona framed in the doorway. "I know you can't move yet, the drug I put in your scotch is a mild paralytic, but just lay there and listen to me. I told you that you were harassing me, pestering me after I said `NO' to you several times, but you just couldn't accept that. You have no idea what a terrible thing sexual harassment is, but you'll find out now."
While my fuzzy mind tried to comprehend what she meant, she continued, "All your clothes, and your wallet are gone - not in the house anywhere, so when you can move, don't waste time looking for them, so you can escape. While you were unconscious, I, ah, spent my time getting you ready for your lessons. And, I took Polaroid pictures of the whole process, and they're someplace safe as well, and I know that you won't want them to appear in the office on Monday or any other day. So don't think that you can overpower me, because you are under my control now."
I could feel strength returning to my body, and I could feel that I was totally naked under the blanket. But why did the touch of the silk sheets feel so strange. And why did my face feel like there was something on it? I managed to get myself up, and the reason for the strange feeling became apparent. Every hair from the neck down had been shaved off my body! Mona stood still as I walked over to the full length mirror and saw - my face made up in full cosmetics, including false eyelashes. When my hand involuntarily moved up to touch my cheek, I saw that deep red false nails had been attached to my fingertips. "What, what the hell is this," I yelled angrily. "Are you crazy - what have you done to me?"
"Me crazy? No, I don't think so, and neither would anyone who saw the pictures. One of the nice things about the drug I gave you, is that your eyes stay open all the time you're unconscious; you look like a willing participant in everything that went on!" I knew she had me, if that were true.
"Ok, enough of this, let me have my clothes back. I'm sorry if I harassed you, I promise to leave you totally alone from now on," I said.
"No, that's not good enough. I told you that you would have to learn what harassment was really like. And for the rest of tonight, you will learn." She stood there, as if daring me to defy her, in a long black evening gown and high, spike-heeled black patent leather pumps. I realized the spot I was in, but in spite of my predicament, standing there naked in front of her, I began to get an erection as I looked at her lovely self. She walked toward me, and slapped my cock down, saying, "you won't be needing that tonight!" As my cock shrank down, she walked over to her dresser, and took out a bunch of clothes, all lacy, white, feminine underthings. "Start getting dressed now, Suzi, you sissy thing. I think Suzi is a perfect name for you from now on."
I knew I had no choice, so I took the frilly, ruffled white panties from her hand, and pulled them up over my cleanly shaven legs. Before I could pull them all the way up, she stopped me, and tied a white ribbon tightly around the base of my cock, then around the tip, pulling the two ends of the ribbon back between my legs, so that my cock disappeared from view. "We musn't have your big clitty showing, should we?" she asked. I pulled the panties up the rest of the way, feeling the smooth caress of the silken material against my pulled-back cock, and thinking that I was in the hands of one really sick chick. Just how sick, I was still to find out!
She placed another garment on the bed, and told me to lay on top of it. She slipped my arms through the bra straps on the top of it, then proceeded to lace it on around me. It wasn't too bad at first, when she pulled it closed around my hips, but as she continued to lace it up, toward my waist, I could feel my body compressing. She showed no mercy, lacing it as tight as it could be, and I felt my body being ruthlessly shaped by the boning inside it. "Stand up, Suzi, so I can see how you look," she said, and when I did, a wave of dizziness swept over me from the unnatural pressures on my body. She slipped two pads inside the cups of the garment, adding to the flesh that had already been pushed and pulled into there, then slid the hanging garters through my panties, and told me to sit back down. The corset-like foundation garment held me rigidly upright, making it almost impossible to pull the sheer white stockings up over my now-sleek legs. "You're starting to find out how much we women have to suffer to look beautiful for men, Suzi," she commented, watching me struggle to attach the six garters to the thigh-high nylons. For some reason, the touch of all these feminine things was somehow exciting, as the smoothness and silkiness sent sensations through my body.
She pointed to a pair of white highheels, at least 4 inches tall, and I stepped into them. It took me a few moments to get used to balancing on them - I felt like I was on top of a skyscraper. As I stood perched there, I felt the compression of my leg muscles from the unnatural way the heels had me standing with just the balls of my feet on the ground, and my heels raised up in the air. The touch of something being placed on my head brought me back, and I felt, and saw, a long, wavy auburn wig, identical to Mona's own hair being placed on my head. She started to talk in a low voice, "this is what I had to go through for him, the bastard, now its payback time." I began to tremble, partly from balancing in the shoes, but mostly from her almost psychotic tone and words. I stood there, wondering what was next, and I was horrified to see her pull a wedding gown out of her closet! I began to get a feeling that I knew what had happened to her, she must have been jilted, and she was acting it out with me. The white satin sheath gown was lifted over my upraised arms and bewigged head, and it slid smoothly down around me. I felt her zipping up the back of the dress, compressing the rest of my body inside its tight shape.
I knew that I must look ridiculous in this get-up, but when she walked me over to look in the mirror, I was stunned by the virginal bride who looked back at me! "Yes, dear, you look perfect, a beautiful, blushing bride - but not a virgin." I didn't have time for that to sink in, when she continued, "I was testing you last night, dear, and you failed. You let me fuck you, just like the whore you really are. And today you dress in lying white, like the virgin you're not!" Her voice was low and rough, and I realized the final humiliation she had suffered. She had made love to her fiancee and then he had jilted her on their wedding day. No wonder she was so twisted and was doing this to me. I stood there, in shock, as she slipped out of her gown. She was naked underneath it, and, as scared as I was, I couldn't help staring at her absolutley perfect body. Her fiancee must have been out of his mind to let her get away.
I kept staring at her as she walked back to the dresser and pulled out a harness that she strapped around her waist and groin. There was a realistic rubber cock attached to it, a huge one that must have been 9" long and 2" around. "Do you want to touch it, dear," she asked, and when I hesitated, she ordered, "I said touch it!" My hand moved involuntarily toward it, and I looked at the contrast of my red-tipped nails against the flesh-colored shaft. "Do you want to suck it dear?" she continued. "N...no," I answered, and she glared at me with a look of pure hatred.
"I said, `Suck it,' bitch, get down on your knees and suck it." I could barely move in the dress and corset, and she smacked my head, causing me to lose my balance and fall. She kicked me in the side with her black high-heel shoe, and I managed to maneuver myself into a kneeling position in front of her. She pressed the cock against my ruby-red lips, forced it into my mouth and down into my throat. I gagged at the invading cock, as she pumped it in and out of my throat. "I knew you'd like it, dear, once you got used to it. Just keep sucking it." I didn't know what else to do, so I followed her instructions, and when one of my fingers brushed against her clit, she let out a moan. I took that as a good sign, and continued to finger her as she kept pumping the rubber dick in and out of me. When she gave out a loud cry of orgasm, I had hope that the terrible ordeal would finally be over.
She withdrew the cock, and helped me to my feet. I said, "I'm so thirsty from your big cock, can I have something to drink?" "Why, of course, dear, you sucked me so well, I'll get you some water," she said. She went into the bathroom, and I greedily drank at the glass she handed me. And I realized it was not over yet, as the room turned black again.
When I awakened for the second time, I remembered immediately what had happened, and I was not as disturbed by my inability to move. But this time, no sound intruded, and as regained the movement of my limbs, I looked down and realized that I was still dressed in the women's underthings, but that my arms were now tied to the bedposts with a pair of nylons. I struggled to try to free myself, but only succeeded in making the knots tighter. I lay there, helpless, for what seemed like an hour, until Mona, still wearing the false cock, returned. "You've learned almost all your lessons, Suzi, just one more to go."
She came up on the bed, and knelt between my stockinged legs. "Yes, just one more thing you need to be a real woman, Suzi, a cock to fill your virgin pussy! Do you want to make it nice and wet before it goes into you, dear?" asked, said moving up the bed and putting the tip to my lips. I knew that there was not stopping her, and that the only hope I had that this monster wouldn't tear me in two was if it were lubricated. I licked and licked, wetting it as much as possible, then she moved back down between my legs. "I think I should play with your little clitty while I fuck you, dear, you'll enjoy that so much. She pulled off my panties, and untied the ribbon that had imprisoned my cock. She bent down and licked it, and to my horror, I saw it spring fully erect. The sensations from the clothes I wore, and the sight of this beautiful woman sucking me made me totally forget the situation I was in, as my cock acted with a mind of its own! She continued rubbing it with her hand, and when I erupted in a giant climax, she spread the cum over the tip of her cock. "That's nice, dear, your pussy-juice has my cock all wet," she said, as she began to enter my virgin ass. The spincter muscle tightened, and she told me to "relax , and enjoy it" with an evil chuckle. The cum-lubricated cock slipped further inside me, and I felt a searing burning pain as I was impaled on it. "That's not too bad, is it, dear?" she asked, as she began to stroke my own cock into another involuntary erection.
She pumped in and out of my ass, as every nerve-ending screamed with pain, then as I got more excited from her handjob, the pain mixed with pleasure, and I felt my head explode with a senual experience unlike any I had ever felt before. I sobbed with the emotions that ran through my body, and when Mona withdrew from me, I lay there, still bound to the bed. As my sobs subsided, the exhaustion I felt from my ordeal, and the aftereffects of the drugs I had been given made me fall asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, I was untied, and the clothing I had been wearing had been exchanged for a white babydoll nightgown and matching panties. My ass was sore, but the feel of the silk sheets, and the nylon outfit I wore, seemed strangely comfortable and soothing. My wig was still in place, and I could feel the remnants of the makeup on my face. I felt used and abused inside though, as the shameful memories of what Mona had done to me replayed inside my head. Mona, I thought, you really did teach me what it was like to be harassed. Suddenly, I saw her standing in the doorway, looking at me. Her eyes were red, as though she had been crying. "I guess we had two different ideas in mind when I asked if you wanted to get into my panties, huh?" she asked ruefully. "I'm a little sorry about what I did, unloading my psychological baggage on you, but you really had a lesson coming." She tried to hold her composure, but broke down and began to weep.
I jumped out of bed, putting my arms around her, to try to comfort her. "Shush, its alright, I did have it coming," I whispered, "I understand what you must have gone through, I'm sorry." She allowed me to help her into the bed, and I lay beside her, stroking her gently. I kept comforting her, and said, "not all guys are like that, he must have been sick to begin with, I'm so, so sorry that you had to go through all that." As I lay there, with this beautiful woman in my arms, I began to get excited, in spite of myself. I willed myself to control my hands, so that I wouldn't frighten her away. She moved closer to me, and as she snuggled against me, she felt my erection under my panties.
"Would you make love to me, gently," she asked, "I have to get the bad memories out of my head."
"Are you sure?" I asked, and, when she looked into my eyes and nodded `yes', I began to tenderly stroke her, feeling her excitement mount. I touched her perfect breasts, and her nipples hardened under my fingers. I moved down between her legs, and began to lick her gently, then more firmly as her hands pressed my still-wigged head against her sweet pussy. She came once, then again almost immediately, and she pulled me up next to her. "Will you come inside me now, and make love to me?" she begged, and I didn't even remove the panties that confined my cock, just pulled them down, and I slid my cock into her warm wet pussy. I moved gently in and out of her, feeling the suction of her tight hole around me. When I could hold back no longer, and she felt me coming inside her, she held me tight against her body, and whispered, "thank you, I...I love you."
We silently held each other for a long time, then she said, "I don't think I could have made love with you, if you weren't dressed like that. I was just hurt too badly by a man." I felt so close to her right then, that I said, "I don't care how I'm dressed when I make love to you. I just love you so much, that nothing else matters." The words that tumbled out shocked me, but as I thought about it, they began not to bother me at all. The feel of the silk sheets and the nylon gown felt wonderful against my body, I had the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms, and we loved each other.
"I'll give you back the pictures, and the ah...the video tape I made last night, Steve," she said, "I couldn't punish you any more." Video tape, I asked myself, and the hazy image of a tripod in the corner of the room as she dressed me in the wedding gown came back to my conscious. "But, I'm afraid I did one thing that you're going to be very angry about - I cut up all your clothes last night, I hated the sight of anything male so much that I just cut them to ribbons!"
I looked down at my nylon-covered body, feelings the strange sensations still running through my body, and asked her shyly, "D...do you maybe have a few things I could borrow to go home in?" She ran her hands over my babydoll, through my wig, then traced around my lipsticked mouth with one dainty finger. "Do you mean, girl-things?" she asked, and when I whispered back, "yes, girl-things," she smiled at me. "Does that mean that everything that happened last night wasn't totally terrible for you?"
"Last night, and this morning, dear sweet Mona, no everything wasn't terrible," I answered. "And if you can't make love to me if I'm dressed as a man, then I'll just have to dress however you want me to dress, because I know that I want to make love to you again." We got out of bed, showered, and Mona helped me get into pantyhose, a pink bra and panty set, an oversized sweater and a wraparound skirt. I slipped into a pair of flats, feeling somewhat disappointed that I wasn't wearing heels, and Mona applied makeup appropriate for daytime to my face. Looking at me in the mirror, she assured me that even my best friend wouldn't recognize me the way I now looked. As the now-familiar sensations from the women's clothes I wore ran through me, I knew that my life would be far different now from what it had been before.
And I was so right: I've moved in with Mona, and while I don't "dress" all the time, I do sometimes just for the heck of it and , of course, whenever we make love. Mona says she still is bothered by the thoughts of her earlier mistreatment, but sometimes I wonder if that's really true....