textfiles/sex/EROTICA/E/eric.txt

Eric's Dilemma
by She-Devil

******.

     The music kept the beat.  The girls on the stage shimmied as
best they might in their stilted heels.  Oddly, the audience was
filled with women, not men, and the dancers showed none of the
exhibitionism linked with topless dancers.  The bulge in their 
g-strings looked a little too full.   Alexis wondered what that
meant.
     The back of Club MALES was dark., some booths filled with
shadowy shapes writhing in pleasure.  In one, an anxious woman sat,
pleading her case.
     "I know you can help me, Kim said so."
     Alexis brushed the platinum blonde curls out of her eyes and
tried to convince the Club's owner of her sincerity.  Someone had
to save Alexis or God knows what would happen to her.
     Two years ago Alexis Lane had been at the top of her class in
business school.  Picked to go far, her mistake had been to fall
for the blandishments of Eric Katt.  THE Eric Katt, Takeover King
and Corporate Raider Extraordinare.  Eric had promised Alexis
exposure, a chance to show what she had, to show she could stay on
her toes.  It could be argued that Eric had kept his word,
literally.
     Alexis, or as she was known now, "Alli" Katt, found herself
turned into a blonde, busty "T & A", wet dream, prancing about in
heels that indeed kept her on tiptoe, scampering about in dresses
that revealed just what she had, and this  exposure" had destroyed
any hopes of a legitimate career.
     Why didn't she leave?  Get a divorce and a chunk of his
millions?  Alexis had tried but Eric never tried.  He did!  Alexis'
mother was institutionalized, a nervous breakdown.  She had been
making progress toward normalcy.  It was a delicate time and an
uncertain process.  Alexis tried to visit as often as she could.
     Barbara Lane sat in front of the vanity.  Her body was
sheathed in a red satin dress that showed her breasts.  Her hair
was jet black and teased.  In horror, from the door, Alexis
listened as the nurse insisted that Barbara's already theatrical
makeup needed to be touched up.  Despite Alexis' angry protests,
Barbara never took her eyes from her reflection.  The makeup kept
caking on.  At the director's office, Alexis was put on the phone
with the owner, Eric of course.  And dutifully, Alexis allowed
herself to become Alli Katt, prize trophy of the sexist,
chauvinistic Mr. Katt.
     "It could be done.  It would be dangerous, but it could be
done.  What do you have in mind and what are you offering in
payment?"  Lorna Reina survived because she was careful.
     It was one thing to take a man and degrade him with psuedo-
femininity.  It could even happen to the well-known and mildly
prominent.  Celebrities were a perfect example.  A once famous rock
star was now working as a parlor maid - nothing French, long
starched uniforms and sturdy shoes - now after his involuntary stay
at MALES.
     The powerful were something else altogether.  They could have
plans laid, loyal retainers charged with their rescue, scenarios
pre-plotted to foil the cleverest kidnappers.  And if she were
caught, Lorna had no illusions of being arrested.  A man like Eric
Katt would have her killed.
     Still, it might be a particularly succulent challenge. 
Indeed, Eric's bimbo wife was succulent herself.  Alexis squirmed
under Lorna's too interested gaze.  Her surgically augmented
breasts swelled in all their 36-D grandeur from the cups of her
rubber bustier.  The matching latex micro-mini  molded everything
and showed everything.
     "If I am to do this ... First, I will be paid $10,000,000 in
cash or cash equivalent in U.S. dollars". Lorna announced.
     "Second, I will make all plans for the adventure, and I will
have sole use and enjoyment of the project for six months after
success."
     "Third, after I am forced to relinquish my project, you will
take it's place for six months."
     A nice way to see if this overblown plaything was serious.  It
was one thing to consign your abusive mate to sugjugation, but
quite another to take his place as part of the fee.
     Swallowing and red-faced, Alexis signed the necessary
documents.
                           *********
     The financial papers were full of the news.  Eric Katt, a
massive stroke!  Found collapsed at his Hampton's estate by his
wife. Alexis, newly coifed and tastefully dressed, made several
public statements expressing hope but acknowleged that her
husband's dire condition left little expectation of a return to his
affairs.
     There was no opposition to Alexis as she took over her
husband's empire.  Lawyers mopped up details, accountants audited
the books and, once the various executives who were handsomely paid
to run Eric's empire were assured that their positions were safe,
no one thought much about Eric at all.
                            *********
     "Very good Eric.  Please walk to the mirror and curtsey."
     Eric teetered in his seven inch heels.  His feet were arched
"en point" by the ballet boots.  Carefully, he minced to the full
length mirror and executed a tremoring curtsey.  A smile never left
his face.
     "Very nice indeed, Eric.  Now show me your new steps."
     Eric first shimmied his narrow hips in gentle circles.  His
arched back jiggled the tiny titties on his chest.  The limp penis
at his crotch bounced and jiggled ludicrously, already much
diminished by the thrice daily hormone dose.
     "Now sing your song, Eric."
     Embarrassed, he stammered in his now sweet feminine voice,
"Watch me dance.  Watch me prance.  I want to rub my ass on your
pants."
     "See me strut.  I'm a slut.  Watch me preen.  I won't rest
`til I taste your cream."  Near tears, leg muscles burning from
their bizarre exertion, Eric repeated his lewd ditty.
     "Much better, my sweet thing.  The tears were a nice touch. 
Now beg me to give you an extra-big shot of girl juice.  I want you
to beg for titties, big girl titties to flaunt for the boys."
     Eric had first come to strapped to a hospital bed.  Gagged,
catheterized, restrained, he laid there as one doctor after another
visited, made notes and left.  No one paid any attention to his
struggles.  The nurses merely kept him clean, exercised by massage,
and fed.  The doctors prodded and checked but no one seemed to be
doing anything.
     The shots had started.  First, one on the hour, followed by
every other hour.  It had dropped off to one with every meal.  His
body seemed to burn sometimes.  He felt so hot!  His nipples and
his penis suffered an excruciating irritation.
     The mouth gag held two tubes in place.  One carried water, the
other a gooey mush.  Forced feeding kept his belly full, but a wide
belt kept his waist restricted and his back straight.
     How long had he lain like that?
     Days?  No, it had been much longer.  Weeks?  Not enough.  Had
to have been two months maybe more.  The room had no window.  Eric
couldn't count the days. Time lost it's meaning as day and night
became a function of when he had last fallen asleep.
     The doctors seemed satisfied.  The straps were coming off. 
The gag was out!  Eric looked down and vomited.
     Two shapely breasts hung heavily from his chest.  Shapely
indeed, he now possessed magnificent 36-DD breasts.  The nurses
ignored the acrid vomitus as they stood the patient up.  Eric could
see himself in the mirror.  More than breasts, he also had a very
narrow waist and wide hips.  His skin was creamy and his hair had
already grown out to below his shoulders.
     Perhaps as a cruel jest, nothing had been done to Eric's face. 
True, his beard was gone, a centerfold body aside, his was a
decidedly mannish face, unattractive at best.
     Alexis had been there when the doctor explained all the things
that were going to be done to Eric.  A nose job, face lift, upper
lip and cheek implants, collagen injections, eye shaping, ear
shaping, chemical skin bleaching, capped teeth, and jaw reshaping.
     They were going to start with the nose, lips, and eyes. 
Alexis was making suggestions but the sedative was making it all
too fuzzy for Eric to follow.
     "I don't want big lips, I don't ..."
                            *********
     "Eric, see who's at the front door."
     Eric gave a little shudder.  He hated to have anyone look at
him.  But it wasn't his place to complain.  About anything!  Giving
his breasts a hefty inward and upward shove, causing a deep
cleavage to split his chest, Eric wiggled in his heels to obey his
mistress.
     Oh no!  It's the pool boy.  Tanned and muscular, Todd from
Poolz surveyed the creature that answered the door.  Her
nationality intrigued him.  Her extremely long, curly hair, dark
brown with red highlights, the oversized, too generous mouth, the
preposterously extravagant figure, all suggested a Mediterranean
background.
     But the blunt nose suggested a black heritage, while the
slanted eyes, implied some oriental ancestry.  A real mixed breed,
this one.  And crazy mixed up also.
     Eric knew what was expected.  Cooing, he traced an inch long
red fingernail up the thickening mound in his vistor's pants.  His
skirt rode up his thighs, letting the shrunken vestige of his
penis, with it's empty scrotum, show through the lace of his
panties.
     While Todd cleaned the pool, Eric slowly stripped and bent
over a pool chair.  His groans of ectasy were only matched by the
slurping of his talented mouth as he licked his lover of the moment
clean.
     "Eric, I told you I wanted some facial cum shots.  You
swallowed this time.  Next time, I want you to hose your face with
cum. Understand?"
     Miserable and naked, Eric allowed Mistress Lorna to run a
chain through his cock ring and tie that useless member to the
floor.  Trapped on hands and knees, he endured his whipping and
remembered.  That afternoon, the mailman made a spectacular mess of
his erotically confused features.
     "So, where are we?"  Gone was the blonde bimbo, Alii.  In her
place was an assured young business woman, Alexis Lane Katt, firmly
in control of her husband's affairs and readying to strike out on
her own.
     Lorna Reina sat across from her client, relaxed.  A large
aluminum suitcase was tucked be her feet.  $10,000,000 in $20's,
counted, and paid.  Business was business.  First, get paid.
     "As you can see, Mrs. Katt, substantial progress has been
made."  Gesturing, Lorna called Eric up to the desk.
     It all seemed familiar in some way.  This office, the
decorations, the woman behind the desk.  Eric couldn't remember
how.  In fact, he didn't remember much, just what he had been
taught.
     "Mee nayhme ees E-reeh-kah.  Berry eh-plees to meeh-ting
juuh."
     Eric smiled and curtseyed, that fact that his skirt was
flashing glimpses of his panties made no impression on him.  He
would expose much more at the slightest gesture from his Mistress.
     "Oh, that accent!  Where did you come up with that?"
     "Well, think of it as protective coloration.  Someone might
believe a woman who claimed to be Eric Katt, forcibly feminized, if
she sounded like Eric, acted like Eric, and could make an
impression like Eric might."
     "But if she looked like an erotic cartoon and talked like
there should be subtitles running past her when she opens her
mouth, then tell me, who would ever take such a ridiculous female
seriously?"
     "How much sexual experince has he had?"
     "Nothing really.  Routine sex with selected partners. 
Straight sex, nothing too bizarre."
     "Couldn't you maybe .. uh, you know, make him really freaky? 
Into rubber or something?  Bondage, and things like that?"
     "Certainly, anything can be done at this point, but it will
require my time, which is, of course, only for sale."
     "How much?"
     "One Million, cash."
     "Done.  Now here's what I have in mind."
                            *********
     Eric felt his vibrators click on.  The strap running from the
front of his corset, back through his legs to buckle in the small
of his back, made removing them impossible.  Feverishly, he rubbed
his leather clad hands over his bare breasts.
     Hooking his thumbs through his nipple rings, he tugged the fat
globes up past his shoulders, seemingly to hang himself by his own
udders.  The vibrations were building.
     Dropping the nipple rings over a chromed hook on the wall,
Eric slipped the ping pong paddles from their holsters on his hips
and began to spank himself, deliberately, slowly, with increasing
force.
     Quickly, his jiggling ass reddened.  The weight tied to his
cock ring bounced against his legs, tugging the flaccid organ, and
threatening to rip away the last relic of his manhood.
     Faster, harder, jumping to put more strain on his tortured
nipples, Eric tried to beat the inexorable tick of the twin
vibrators.  He was there .. nearly there .. almost, almost ...
     A cruel shock of electricity jolted through his passages.  The
doctors had given him a vagina.  It could accommodate practically
anything; cock, dildo, even a fist!  They had, however, left him a
penis, now a sort of gigantic clitoris.  Eric had become a bisexed
freak.  The vicious lances of electrical pain flowed freely from
rectum to vagina and back, causing Eric to twitch uncontrollably.
     SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK., SMACK, SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!
     Mindlessly, Eric kept up the pummeling of his own ass until,
overwhelmed by sensation, his orgasm came.  Roiling waves of
pleasure, based in terrible pain, blotted out any thought from his
mind.  His hands dropped the paddles and ran up and down his
corseted torso, the rubber sweat slick under his fingers.
     Seated at his makeup table, Eric repaired the damage.  He had
an hour to be ready for another orgasm.  The clock was already
ticking.  There was barely enough time.  If his makeup wasn't just
right, if he wasn't wearing the right clothes, if he didn't have on
leather gloves to massage his tits, or high heels, or any one of a
myriad preconditioned things, he couldn't cum.  And, if he failed
to cum, the shocks kept going.
     For how long? He didn't know, but he had no desire to find
out. 
                            *********
     "I want to escape."
     Eric hadn't had such a thought in two years.  For much of that
time, he'd forgotten who he was, that is, who he had been.
     "Why had they refreshed all that?"
     Eric knew that he had been Eric Katt, knew that he was now
trapped in a female body, that in reality he was male.
     "Why tell me this?"
     Eric had tried three times to leave.  There were no locks on
the doors.  Each time, he had never made it past the door of his
room.  First, it had been a corset.  Next, picking out the right
dress.  Now his makeup was perfect but he just couldn't seem to get
moving.
     "I'll take it a step at a time."
     Eric stepped into the hallway, just to see what was out there. 
It was easier to do this by small steps.  Down the hall to the
stairwell.   Down the steps and out to the next floor.  On to the
elevator, down to the ground floor.  It was working, Eric was
getting away.
     Three men were standing by the front door.  They were wearing
leather.  Oh God!  Eric could feel himself get wet.  His tiny penis
throbbed.  Head down, he tried to walk past.  A strong hand turned
him around and calloused fingers dug his breasts out of his low-cut
dress.
     "Look what we have here boys, prime milk bags.  Looks like
she's ready to go into heat.  What do you say boys?  You "Bulls"
ready to service this here heifer?"
     Eric wanted to resist as they pulled his dress up and put him,
on hands and knees, on a table.  Docilely, he serviced each in
turn, front and back, the smell of the leather and the bruising of
their rough play turning him on.
     Cum splattered and disheveled, Eric watched them leave
laughing.  He was Eric Katt inside, dammit he was and she,
goddammit *HE*, could leave whenever he wanted.
     But not like this.  My hair, my face!  I must look a wreck. 
I'll just fix myself up and then I'll go.
     Eric tried the next day and every day after that for a month. 
He never got out of the lobby.
                            *********
     Alexis watched, amused, as Eric stood naked, surrounded by
kinky fetish gear.  What to put on first?  Lorna had said this
would be the ultimate demonstration.
     Eric Katt, who once made decisions that affected millions, was
now an all tits and ass bimbo who couldn't decide whether to deck
herself out in sluttish rubber or kinky leather.
     "Why don't you try the pink hot pants?" Alexis suggested.
     Grateful that someone had broken the confusion that enveloped
him, Eric began the arduous process of squeezing his stout hips
into the tiny garment.
     "He seems very domesticated, Lorna.  I'm impressed."
     "Does he meet to your satisfaction, both as to his original
feminization and his .. uh, how shall we say, .. custom
modifications?"
     "Lord yes!  he's wilder than anything I ever dreamed of.   All
those times Eric had my tits hanging out, fending off the hands of
his drunken buddies.  Now he can enjoy the experience.  Yes, he'll
do just fine as "Erica."
     "I'm so glad you find him suitable.  I have worked so hard. 
It's so difficult, you know, to impose new behaviors, new
attitudes, without extinguishing the basic talents.  Eric, for
instance."
     Lorna took out a cigarette, lit it, and continued.
     "Eric has a natural talent for making money.  Of course, that
talent needed to be harnessed and put to work for females.  While
it would be nice for you to have Erica at your beck and call, it
will be so much nicer to have Eric making money for me."
     Alexis tried to stand up.  She was woozy, hot, and the room
was spinning.
     "I've made a few modifications of my own, you see.  Eric, as
Erica, is going to be your assistant.  He'll be running things
while you're on vacation.  Quite smoothly, I'd bet.  After all, it
was his company."
     Lorna stepped back to avoid Alexis' clawing fingers. 
Staggering, the drugged female collapsed to her knees.
     "Meanwhile, you have a debt to pay me.  A very significant
debt."
                            *********
     The intercom.  Her last meeting was cancelled.  It was time to
go home.
     Alli and Eric minced in.  Husband and wife were now identical
twins.  There were a few improvements, of course.  The accents were
gone, as well as the remains of Eric's manhood.  It got in the way of
business, but their bustlines were stupendous.  40-FF's. 
Impossible to support unless wearing well engineered foundations. 
Watching the two enter was like seeing two cars from the fifties
with jutting headlights.
     The intelligence was still there.  It had to be to keep Lorna
in touch with her newly acquired empire.  But there were other
things.  Alii looked at her mistress with unbridled lust.  The poor
girl was now an obsessive lesbian.  Eric, on the other hand, was
now an uncontrollable slut.  He couldn't keep his hands off any
cock that came by.
     MALES was throwing a dinner in Lorna's honor.  It was going to
be interesting to see who got a bigger reaction from the crowd when
they danced - Alii or Eric.  Each had a little song to sing and a
dance to do.
     There would be a live sex show including, even, an animal act. 
It would be fitting somehow to see Eric Katt, the takeover king,
being taken over by a donkey.
     There was a brothel in the hills north of Acapulco where the
girls were taught a sort of naked Flamenco.  The pale, slim, Anglo
girls, kidnapped form the tourist beaches, were particularly
humiliated by the lewd costume and the heel pounding dance they
were forced to learn.  The beat of the heels serving to drive the
dildos they wore deep into their, soon to be, well worn slits.
     It might be fun to send my pair South for the season to take
dancing lessons.  Lorna sat back and pictured it in her mind.  The
see-through, triple tiered, skirts, their ponderously moving
breasts, cries of "Ole!" in the background.  She picked up the
phone and began to dial.

FIN