Going Dom 2 (Dominatrix TG) (Patreon)

An Anonymous Commission

It’s been a year since Dominic became Dominique, the sexy and authoritative dominatrix with a kinky approach to life and a set of outrageous costumes to fit her astounding proportions. Now, she decides to take some time to visit a pop culture convention and play dress up. But several agents are on her tail, and she means to evade them with help from a new feature of the remote.

A Sequel to Going Dom 

Going Dom 2

Dominique turned heads as she entered into the pop culture convention. Thousands were gathered to see teasers and interviews concerning the latest hot thing coming to the silver screen, or to a streaming site soon, or in comics and videogames; the convention centre had it all, including a bevy of outrageous and colourful costumes. But the hottest thing, as far as she and those in her presence were concerned, was her. The pale, busty dominatrix strutted through the security, enjoying the way men and women gaped at her tall, voluptuous form. She couldn’t blame them. She looked fabulous.

Dominique was dressed in black latex, the material conforming to her curves, particularly her wide hips and impressively peach-shaped behind, with a long zipper that was halfway down, revealing a bounteous bust line to house her near-head sized breasts. Her hair was in a long ponytail that bounced and swished against her behind, swaying in time to her hips and adding to her overall seductive qualities. Her thigh-high leather boots with their impressive heels only added to the overall effect, as did the tight belt around her tiny waist that accentuated her hourglass figure. With the fake grappling hook on one hip and the binoculars on the other, she was the image of a fictionalised sexy spygirl, complete with a faux Soviet accent she'd prepared earlier.

Dominique waltzed through the crowd, sampling the figures around her. From the crowd of pasty, occasionally overweight nerds there were still those who caught her attention: a dashingly handsome beanpole of a geek dressed as Q from James Bond, for instance. He had a real ‘cute tech guy’ look to him, and an excellent dress sense. There was a burly strongman, shirtless and painted to look like the Hulk; his muscles caught her eye; the man looked hot and he knew it. She could enjoy breaking him to her will; she’d learned over the past years all the best ways to dominate and control men who considered themselves alpha males. And of course, there were a couple of absolutely darling female anime cosplayers in tight outfits, their impressively prominent busts displayed in ‘boob windows’ and low v-cut outfits. One of them was likely to have at least some inclination towards a more . . . Sapphic experience. Dominique had more than once made a gorgeous woman plead for more, plead for a ‘mistress’ to help her learn the true ways of womanhood.

The irony, of course, being that Dominique had not been born a woman, and had lived a man most of her life, working over a decade as a lowly manager at the Department of Unknown Technologies. But after finding a discarded remote, one that was meant to be locked away, Dominic’s life was utterly changed. The black metal remote was strange and almost alien in design, with its softly glowing green buttons and unusual heaviness. It held the power to turn a man or woman into a sexually powerful female dom, with alabaster white skin, raven black hair, an outrageously busty figure, and a strong predeliction for sporting tight, revealing outfits. Naturally, the agents of the DUT had been searching for her ever since, but she had remained one step ahead of them, even convincing a few to leave the agency after she gave them some sweet, tenderising loving.

But as of a recent incident, she was on the move again, relishing the cat and mouse game she and her former coworkers shared. They had nearly caught her back at her apartment, and she had a lot of fun tying up Agent Donnal with her black leather whips (and while he’d never admit it, she knew he’d had some reluctant fun too. The man liked handcuffs, that was for sure). She had fled before more agents could arrive to rescue him, but Agent Katie Norre was on her tail, and she was good. So, what better place for a dressed-up Dominique to hide in than a massive nerd con filled with cosplayers and costumes?

It certainly helped that a new button had unveiled itself upon her controller just a few months earlier, one that aided her current exploit. It had just appeared there, glowing a slightly ominous red, but the results were anything but ominous; she got the distinct impression that there was something alive, perhaps even sentient, about the controller, and that this was its signal that she was ‘ready’ for its next gift. She had pressed it, and suddenly she was wearing a totally different outfit, one that was far more than the simple alterations of skimpiness and goth skirts she’d had before. No, this let her style herself to a far greater extent, becoming seductive devil and angel both, able to become evil queen and naughty princess in a flash. So in many ways, she was thankful to Agent Norre; weaving through the con in her sexy latex spy fetish gear was the perfect opportunity to test this new button to its limits. It also gave her a lot of opportunity to have some fun with it. And, of course, there was one other feature of that button, though she hadn't tested it to its full just yet.

“Hey wow, nice tits!” a man yelled as she passed. She turned her head, ready to glare at the man who would dare to make such a comment of her, when she should be the one making suggestive, dehumanising comments to him! But that was when she saw, within the crowd, an obnoxious young man mocking an older overweight geek in his thirties. The insult was clear; his ‘moobs’ showed through the overly-tight shirt he was wearing, and it was equally clear that the poor man was dreadfully embarrassed over this.

Dominique was incandescent with rage. She had been an ordinary put-on individual once too, and she wouldn’t stand for this. Besides, she didn’t mind a big guy. There was a lot more flesh to massage and play with.

“Excuse me, are you bullying this man?” she asked. She had adopted a new accent; her more comfortable cockney rhyming slang made her a bit too much of a target when agents were near. She placed her hands on her hips, thrusting her pale globes forward so that they nearly pulled her zipper right down to her navel. The young man and his friends who had made the insult were struggling to look her in the eye.

“What’s it to you?” one eventually said. “You some kind of regular ass thot?”

She smirked, her ruby red lips gleaming. She stepped forward, one foot in front of the other, allowing her hips to swing and her black ponytail to rock. She moved uncannily close to the man, making him realise just how much she loomed over him, over six foot height without even counting her sexy black go go boots. His face was perfectly level with her large, nearly head-sized boobs. She leaned over, extending a pale finger with blood red fingernails, and pressed it against his forehead, tipping his head backwards to look up at her. Despite his misogynistic bravado, he was visibly nervous before her. She gave him a smile without mirth.

"Oh, honey, there's nothing regular about my ass, as you can see." She leaned further over, letting the latex audibly stretch against the rondure flesh of her behind. Her face was now right before his, and she slid her sharp fingernail beneath his chin, like it was a knife.

"Why don't you slither away like a good little worn. I and my boyfriend here have no patience for little bully men with tiny cocks."

The man stammered, trying to think of a comeback. “You’re not his boyfriend.”

“Oh, really?” She sauntered over to the geeky man, and placed her arm around his shoulder, pressing her magnificent chest against his side as she leaned over him. He was utterly confused, and his meekness turned her on all the more. “I think you’ll find I am, isn’t that right, my baby?”

The bully’s victim gulped. Clearly, he’d never experience a set of tits like hers pressed up against him. She could practically sense the rising hardness in his pants. “Uh, sure. Yeah. We’ve been together for a while, haven’t we, Haley?”

She rolled her eyes away from the bully’s sight. Haley, really? The man couldn’t pick a better name to suit her dark, gothic form? But instead she pressed further against him, kissing his cheek, and lowering a hand to grab his butt. He stiffened, in every sense of the word, as she turned back to look at the astounded jerk who now looked very, very small.

“Scram,” she said, and he did, turning away in disgust and - she knew - jealousy.

“Thanks for that,” the man said. “My name is John.”

“Dominique.”

“It’s - wow, it’s real nice to meet you. Thanks for pretending to be my girlfriend. I’d be real lucky to have a girl like you.” He chuckled nervously. She still hadn’t extricated herself.

“Yes, you would be lucky to have me.”

“Um, I think he’s out of sight. I think he bought it. You don’t have to stick so close anymore.”

She simply grinned, ruffling his cute hair. He had a beard that needed shaving, but he wasn’t altogether lacking in appeal, in a bear-like kind of way. “Who said anything about going? I think a poor little man like you deserves a bit more than that, after such a horrible comment, hmm?”

He looked like a deer in headlights. She grabbed his chin and lifted it up to her, kissing him deeply, letting him savour her just enough before pushing him back down. Oh yes, I can have fun with this one.

“We’re finding somewhere private, love. Right now.”

“Uh, yes ma’am.”

She grinned, licking her lips in a predatory fashion. “Oh, you’ll do nicely, John. You pick up quickly. Now come, or get left behind. You’d do well to follow an agent’s instructions.”

He traipsed quickly after her.

***

“Ohhhhh - oh fuck! Shit, that’s good!”

She stopped herself from smiling. After all, she was giving him the best damn blowjob of his life in a private area. Of course, ‘private’ for Dominique simply meant ‘backstage enough that I can activate Blend while the techies and celebs walk on for their presentations none the wiser. Somehow, for both of them, it made the act even sexier. He was seated on one of the plastic chairs reserved for the convention, and she was on her knees, getting him off, and letting him play and tease and stroke at her fat nipples. It was electrifying, and she had no doubt she was giving him perhaps the highlight of his life.

“That right honey, you’re nearly there. I want you to blow a load right down my throat. In fact, I demand it. I don’t have time to suck the cocks of pathetic little men who displease me.”

“I can! I will! I promise! I’m s-so damn close! Wait - is that Erin Ryan? Holy hell, she’s in the new Marv-”

She snapped her fingers in his face. “Focus, big man. You are a big man, right?” Dominique readjusted his hands, allowing him to squeeze her breasts in the most sensitive places. She moaned.

“There we are. Now, cum in my mouth already. It’s your most important mission.”

And with that, she dove down upon his rigid cock once more, taking it deep throat-style, her gag reflex non-existent when it came to the sexual act. He whimpered at her ministrations, weak to the way she teased at his balls. He was under her thumb, even as she serviced him, and the mere act of dominating him caused her to get off.

“Aahhhhhh!”

His cock tensed in her mouth, and she drew her lips in a tight seal over his thick member. It throbbed, and thick spurts of semen poured into her mouth and down her throat. She never could have imagined, being born a man, that she’d ever come to relish the taste of another man’s semen. And yet here she was, and she did.

It was as her own climax hit her that the curtain parted, thankfully not enough to reveal them entirely. She liked public sex as an act of daring, but not when there were so many cameras. But what she did see from her viewpart grabbed her immediate attention; the tight red hairdo of Agent Norre, moving swiftly through the crowd, and scanning its members with her agents. Norre was a thin, somewhat attractive woman with a flat figure and a preference against makeup. She wanted to be taken seriously, and so she had chased Dominique with a precision the previous hunters had failed to muster.

This was serious. She drew herself up, zipping up her costume enough to conceal her breasts just slightly, and licked the last trace of John’s jizz from her lips. She placed a high-heeled boot near his crotch and leaned forward, holding the remote.

“That’s all you get, John. But it was good. You’ve pleased your mistress. And that means I’m going to give you a bit of a gift, one I think you’ll appreciate. Perhaps the other cosplay girls will learn to treat you like I have.”

She pressed the red button on the remote, and aimed it at him. He glanced at it nervously, pants still undone, his face fraught with nervousness.

“Uh, what’s that going to do?”

She smiled. “Change your world. Like it did mine.”

The latex spy woman pressed the button.

***

Another costume to throw off Agent Norre, courtesy of the red button, as well as one of her numbered presets. Her hair was now a long curly black tangle, flowing down to the small of her back, and her breasts were slightly reduced in size, though her hips had expanded to compensate. And, of course, her ass was absolutely delightful. What the remote did an excellent job of providing with its new button was a set of horns and a tail. Neither, she suspected, were actually real, but served as implants beneath her skin that looked authentic enough, and certainly felt so.

She was a sexy succubus, her skin even paler, her eyes tinged yellow, a number of markings drawn in red across her skin to give the suggestion of occult ritual. Her costume was black - that, her skin and hair colour never changed - and consisted of numerous leather straps over her form, overlapping and extending to reveal her flat midriff and perfect thighs. She wore ballerina heels for this one; her feet arched at near-impossible angles, causing her to take awkward steps that only exaggerated her hellish appeal. A set of dark wings as part of her cosplay extended behind her, and to complete the effect she had thick dark makeup on her lips and around her eyes.

“Horny devil!” someone shouted as she passed. She simply ran her fingers down her form in a suggestive fashion and arched her back, managing to stick out her chest and ass in one sexualised motion. It was the kind of display that would have had Dominic mesmerised, but as Dominique, the act of giving it was what turned her on. She received some whoops and hollas, but continued on her way, a delicious devil in the highest of high heels, one step in front of the other. Even the female cosplayers with their own impressive racks stared at her cleavage, unbelieving that it stayed in; it managed to expose a whole shelf of underboob, but thanks to its sleek design, they were held wonderfully aloft.

“Try and find me now, Agent Norre,” she said to herself, as she entered a crowd waiting to see the new trailer for Hellracer 3. There were numerous nerds here, small men she could dominate and play the devil on the shoulder for, but she craved a little variation today. Sometimes she still felt that lingering shadow of being a male janitor masturbating in loneliness to a hot Maxim model, and it felt nice to appease that masculine part of herself by finding a cute woman to dominate and fuck.

It didn’t take long to find her. She was named Paris, and had come from the United Kingdom. She had dark skin and had coloured her hair pink, and Dominique knew this because the woman had been watching her in her circle of friends, missing parts of conversation as her eyes lingered on the pale dom’s form.

“S-sorry guys, I was just distracted,” she said, turning back to her friends, but her eyes still flickering to Dominique. “What were you saying?”

Her accent was that of a sexy northerner, with a cute lisp on top. It gained Dominique’s interest, and she decided to approach. As she did, the chatter died down a bit.

“Hello,” she said, “I caught you staring.”

Paris blanched, coughing a little from embarrassment. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to. You just look - you look awesome.”

“Yes, I rather think I do, don’t I? It was quite an effort to earn this costume. A deal with the devil, you might say.”

Technically, I’m not lying. It has taken a lot to abandon a life of manhood and embrace this form. And it had been so worth it.

“I imagine so. It’s so authentic.”

“Of course, you look quite wonderful too. Hellishly so, in fact.”

She blushed a little. “Thanks! I made it myself.” She indicated her own devil-girl costume, which was more of a costume-light, a little set of headband horns and cute waistcoat to match one of the film’s characters. Dominique leaned in close, standing over her group of friends, admiring the girl’s bust.

“I wasn’t talking about the costume, dearie. I’m Dominique.”

“Um, Paris.”

One of her friends piped up. “Um, sorry, do we know you?”

Dominique glared her into submission. “I’m talking to Paris, thank you.” She switched her attention back to the woman. “Say, do you want to talk . . . privately? I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

She activated Dampen behind her back, focused on the group of friends - she’d learned a few months ago she could do that. Suddenly, their ability to interrupt her union with Paris was disrupted, and they could only act as if this was normal, just how Dominique wanted it.

“That’d be so cool!” Paris said enthusiastically, cute as a lamb. “Where shall we go?”

Dominique chuckled, her voice sultry as she drew nearer to Paris. “Just trust me. You’ll like the places I take you.”

***

“Ooohhh! That feels good! That feels so good! Don’t stop!”

“I had no intention of doing so, my little pet.”

They had found an unused room, one booked for a later showing several hours from now. The two women groped and pressed against one another, Dominique forceful in her control of their passion, always keeping the passionate Paris pliant to her whims. She licked and stroked at the woman, enjoying her supple form, just as Dominic the man would have liked. This was, in some ways, her way of appealing that still-present instinct, including the desire to penetrate; she had withdrawn a large dark dildo from her purse, and was presently shoving its immense girth and length into the woman. They were sitting on a couch intending for a celebrity group interview, Paris upon Dominique’s lab, both of them facing towards an imaginary audience as they were pleasured. The girl writhed on her lap, crying out for more; it was clear this was her first time with a woman, and it was an experience she craved. Dominique decided to make her pleasure worthwhile and long lasting.

“That’s good, my pet,” she said, sultry voice low as she thrust the sex toy deep into the dark-skinned woman’s passage. “Are you pleased with this? Do you want me?”

The woman whimpered, struggling to answer. “Y-yes. M-more. It’s s-so big!”

“Then beg me. Beg your mistress.”

“P-please! F-fuck me! I w-want it deep inside me!”

“Good. We shall come together. You have earned your mistress’ pleasure.”

It wasn’t a lie. As she thrust the dildo deep into Paris’ vagina once more, causing her to moan and shudder, Dominique pressed a button nestled between her own thighs, activating a particular feature of her own costume. The red button had not been a let down; instantly a long rubber-coated toy extended into her own depths, a built-in vibrator that began to pulse in her passage. The dominatrix joined her plaything’s moaning as her tunnel was massaged by the rising vibrations of the toy. It tensed her pleasure centres, rubbing against her G-spot and causing her vaginal muscles to clamp down upon the buzzing member, as if clinging on for dear life.

“Mmhhhmmmhhm ooohhhh that’s g-goooood!” she moaned. She raised her hand back up to massage Paris’ wonderfully dark nipples and widened areola. The young woman squealed, her passionate enthusiasm driving her to greater heights. She began to actually bounce on Dominique’s lap, and the former male was amused at the sight and feeling; just over a year ago, the woman would have been riding Dom’s hardened penis. Now, the former ‘he’ was a ‘she’, and the sex toys did all the work for her, and her newest sexual conquest.

“You’re going to cum, darling, aren’t you? Like a good girl.”

She shuddered in Dom’s arms. “I - I think I am!”

Dominique grasped her by the waist, stroking her wide hips. “Not think. You are. This is your first time with a woman, isn’t it?”

She nodded, lost in pleasure. Dominique nearly was too, but she was a practised dominatrix now. She rode the pulsed of the vibrator, savouring its effect on her as it slowly but surely built her up to orgasm. She breathed, breasts rising and falling like great mountains as she gathered herself.

“Then I promise you, when you come you will never want to go back. Let’s sin together, shall we?”

With that, she thrust the dildo in even further, pulling it back and thrusting again deeply, sliding against the woman’s most sensitive areas. Paris seized up, her entire body tensing and then relaxing, tensing then relaxing, practically quivering. She turned to the side to say something, but her eyes simply widened, almost bug-like, as she was caught in the throes of orgasm. It was perfectly timed; with another press of a button, the vibrator hummed even faster, tipping Dom over the edge as well. The two shivered, silent for a moment, before they let a wail out together. Paris’ voice was high and soft, Dominique’s low and sultry.

“Yes, that sounds like enjoyment, Paris.”

The poor woman could barely respond, and so they stayed there together for several minutes, lying on the couch. Dominique stroked her lover’s hair tenderly, the perfect care treatment after such an experience.

Her time was cut short when she heard the barked order of DUT officers coming from the outside hall.

“Time to go. But maybe, Paris, if you make no mention that you saw me, I’ll treat you nicely again. Or badly, in a ‘nice’ way. I can do both sides of sexy. Fitting, for a succubi, don’t you think?”

***

She had nearly been outfoxed. There were over two dozen agents belonging to the Department of Unknown Technologies in the building, far more than she had experienced previously, and they were acting with surgical precision, courtesy of Agent Norre’s leadership. The cunning fox-like mind of the redhead was on Dominique’s tail, and it was only thanks to the remote’s various features that she was able to escape; they had figured out that the Dampen and Blend features had a range limit, clearly. Thankfully, they didn’t know about the instantaneous transformative powers of the red button, which combined with a preset hairstyle and more classically curvy body type she’d saved, managed to hide her.

The DUT swarmed into the great chamber for the next major animated production, and were aghast to realise that just about every woman was dressed up as princesses and queens. The numerous costumes ranged from light pink to deep blue to dark blacks, and the last was a result of the immense popularity of a recent villainess whose tight dark dress in her animated feature had captured the attention of the cosplay crowd. There must have been over forty of them in the room alone, if not more, constantly moving within the crowd, and it was this that Dominique took advantage of.

The former janitor knew how to blend in; it’s what she had done all her life as a tedious little man. But she also had a new desire to constantly stick out, courtesy of the remote. These instincts warred against each other, and so she had taken on the visage of an evil queen in high heels and a dark-clad dress. It fell to the floor in a low gown, but had two great slits up each side to reveal her gorgeous pale legs. A black corset pulled tightly over her bust, lifting it to form two impressive globes. Her figure was more thickset overall than her previous forms, and the more meat on her bones the better for this role; it gave her a queenly bearing and authority that was wonderful to flounce. Numerous single fathers escorting their daughters were fixated on her appearance, and several female cosplayers too. She kept her head high, her dark crystal crown sparkling, further empowering her authoritative nature.

“I need to blend in,” she whispered to herself, but again there was the instinct of Dominique, given to her by the remote, pushing her to be blatant. She was beginning to suspect this was how many of the remote’s previous companions were caught. But none had lasted longer than her; she had proven she had the will to maintain her personality and join it to that of her new dominating femininity. She would not give it up now, nor lose it to Agent Norre and her DUT.

The agents prowled through the crowd, several of them quite hunky looking. In less tense circumstances, she would enjoy making them her pawns, seducing them with her sexual wiles. More than once she had ended up pegging a man sent to chase her, or otherwise taking him to dark and pleasurable places he’d never fathomed. But so far Agent Norre had been robust. The woman lived for the job, and didn’t care that Dominique just wanted to be free and spread her particular kind of joy.

It made a thought occur to her, one connected to that wonderful new button on the controller.

“Hhmm, maybe it’s time to go on the offensive, little one.”

She licked her lips as the remote thrummed briefly in her hand. She wasn’t sure if it was actually sentient, but it sure felt so at times. And if it did, it wanted to help her, even if it was clearly a bit too keen on her bringing ecstasy to others.

“Yes, I think it is. Let’s give Agent Norre a little taste of what it’s like to be me, shall we?”

Again, there was that thrumming.

“Mhmm, I’ll take that as a yes.”

She stepped through the crowd. It was beginning to buzz; in just ten minutes, the cast and crew would arrive to tease the coming sequel, and droves of them would go wild with cheers. Dominique needed to time this right, and take advantage of that fact. She snaked through the crowd, pressing them aside with her mere presence. Twice she passed an officer of the DUT, but with her head held high and her lack of nervousness, they initially passed her. Still, one was bound to stare at her prominent chest, pushed up to her collar bone and wobbling extensively, and then the deck of cards would start to fall.

She strode forth on high heels to the one person who didn’t expect a direct approach; Agent Norre. Dominique found her issuing orders through a radio at the side of the room, alone. Clearly, she didn’t think she needed backup. She was, after all, seemingly immune to the dominatrix’s charm.

Or so she thought.

“Hello, subject,” Dom said from behind her.

The woman wheeled about, brandishing a taser. Her hair was pulled back in a tight professional ponytail, her features pretty but a little too plain for Dom’s taste.

“You! I didn’t expect you to give yourself up. Put your hands where I can see them. You are under arrest by the order of the DUT.”

Dominique smiled. In truth, she was trembling, but her empowered confidence courtesy of the remote helped buoy her, not to mention the height difference.

“Oh, my darling Agent Norre, I’m not here to surrender. I’m here to accept yours.”

“Is this some kind of joke? With one radio call, I can have a dozen agents right on you.”

She guffawed. “Oooh, a dozen! That sounds a lot, even for me. But where there’s a will, there’s a way. And I do have a will, Katie. It’s a monarch thing. I’ve tamed the remote.”

“That may be, but the remote belongs to us. It’s harmful.”

“My ‘victims’ beg to differ, unless the brief catanonia of pleasure is counted. And I very much doubt that.”

Katie creased her brow, irritated. “Why do this, Dominic? Why live this life? Is it an addiction, does the remote keep you hostage? Why live as a fugitive?”

She can’t possibly understand unless I make her.

“My dear Agent Norre, I simply like it. No, scratch that, I love it. I was living life as a boring, pathetic little man with too many regrets. Now, I have a whole new lease on life. Even this game of cat and mouse is fun, though who is the cat and who is the mouse?”

Katie shook the taser, indicating its power.

“I would say that’s obvious,” she said, grinning. “And frankly, I don’t care about your slutty ambitions.”

Dominique smirked darkly. “Is that so?”

“That’s right. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a weirdo janitor who got addicted to whoring himself out in ridiculous costumes.”

“And you’re not going to let me go? No matter what? Last chance.”

Agent Katie Norre raised the taser. “Sure, make me laugh.”

Just before the agent could press the trigger to fire the taser, Dominique hit the red button. Nothing happened.

“What the - how?”

Norre looked in astonishment at her taser, which was now a vibrator buzzing openly in her hand, drawing the confusion and ire of several crowd goers. She dropped it, disgusted. The dominatrix flourished the controller, revealing the red button on its underside.

“New function,” she said, and pressed it again, this time aimed directly at Norre. The agent groaned as a strange pressure began in her chest, and similar pressures and tuggings across her body. She moaned, whimpering as her body altered, and Dominique quickly pressed Dampen so that everyone could remember this sight, but not interfere.

“N-no! Wh-what are you d-doing? Oohhhhhh!”

“Just making you a little more like me. Maybe then, you’ll understand, Katie.”

“You c-can’t! I - I’ll stop you! I’ll find y-you!”

“Oh, I know love, but with the changes I’m making to your body, as well as your libido, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of stops along the way. Maybe then you’ll learn to appreciate the wilder side of life. Ain’t gonna hurt ya!”

Norre grunted as her hair grew out, becoming even more fiery, and taking on a wild quality. Her buttoned shirt popped as her breasts grew into big, round triple-D cups, pushing out to widen her suit jacket, stretching its seams. Her ass similarly expanded, and her lips became a puffy, pouty pair, perfect for sucking dicks. Her face became more appealing also, features softening to look more demure. And as a last little treat, Domimique quintupled her libido, to make up for its lack. Straight away, she could see that the agent was rubbing at her crotch, overwhelmed with need.

“F-fuck you!”

“That’s what you get for chasing an innocent woman who just wants to live her life.”

She leaned over, and grabbed one of Norre’s large breasts. The woman squeaked in unwanted pleasure, now a busty redhead beauty that would draw every other agent’s eye.

“Maybe you’ll learn to enjoy it, darling. Goodness knows, I have. But if not, then perhaps it will just slow you down a little. When it does, try a little self-evaluation, and think about how the only time I’ll change anyone is to make their lives better, or if they try to hurt me. And if you really need a good fuck right now, try finding a man named John in a tight red shirt. He’s much fitter since this morning, and sporting quite the big cock too. I’m sure he’d be happy to go a second round with you. For now, tata!”

And with that, Dominique left the agent squirming, calling for backup, though what that backup would do for her was anyone’s guess at the moment. Dominique strolled out, the dark queen feeling mighty indeed as she left the building and out onto the street. She pressed the red button again, and shifted to her classic dominatrix look with its tight black skirt and leather crop top. With a whip in one hand, and a powerful remote in the other, she took off in search of more pleasure. Following such a busy day of fucking, she’d decided she wanted some more. And then maybe some Chinese and a movie to settle in at night. And some pig’s ear - beer - it’d be nice to be back in her comfy Cockney. After all, when she wasn’t being chased by her former coworkers and pleasuring strangers, she still had a life to live!

And what a life it is, she thought, as she disappeared into the city. She left the con and its bevy of confused agents behind her.

The End