Stealing the bodysuit had been a good idea at first. Now though, given he was tied blindfolded to a chair with a vibrator to his false pussy and his first female orgasm rapidly building towards a point of no return, he was deeply regretting his decision.
After being imprisoned in one of the Yakuza’s many locations across the city for over a week, Junichi had managed to escape his captivity only to find himself in a maze of industrial corridors. It had been entirely by accident that he had stumbled into their bodysuit development project – through which he knew they planned to make a big push into the prostitution market – though the idea had formulated almost instantly to steal one.
After all, even if he made it out of the building alive, he was set to be top of the Yakuza’s wanted list, and with agents of the organisation covering every corner of the city it would be difficult to evade them without some form of disguise. A bodysuit was the perfect method of concealing his identity in such dire circumstances. Sure, he would have to look like a woman for a few weeks until he could assure his safety or escape the city, but there were worse fates that awaited him if he was caught.
Stifling out of the building he had found a dark corner and quickly shed his clothes. Slipping his legs into those of the suit he had hoisted it up and onto his body rapidly, too frantic to notice how strange the experience felt or might have looked to any onlooker. With the suit on his shoulders the torso sealed up his back automatically, as it did with the back of the head as Junichi slid it over his own features. Only when he had donned his clothes once again did he pause and take note of how the suit felt.
It was an acutely bizarre experience. He could no longer feel any of his male anatomy, only that of his new female form. The usual familiar weight of his penis had given way to a smooth pussy that he had to fight not to explore, and it took some time for him to become accustomed to the large breasts that pulled on his chest in a way he had never experienced before. He had overheard his captors conversing about the bodysuits enough to know they were intended to modify the thoughts and behaviours of the wearer into a more sexually provocative frame of mind. He could not deny that the feeling of the air on a skin that was not his own was strangely erotic, the sensation of new curves and body parts that seemed to defy the figure he had so recently owned was arousing, yet he was confident he could resist his urges. Indeed, the same men had also spoken of how the suits were far from complete, and that the mental manipulation effects were in need of serious work.
As a result, Junichi had been able to keep a firm grip on himself and push aside the fleeting waves of arousal the suit provided him. Quickly and quietly, he had managed to sneak past the guards and escape the Yakuza compound.
Later that night he had arrived on the doorstep of an old friend. Naturally he had been shocked at the sight of a strange woman outside his apartment, but when Junichi had removed the suit and explained his situation he had been ushered in urgently. Exhausted from his ordeal, Junichi had slept with the bodysuit close at hand and had awoken to find his friend having left for work.
He had known he could not stay there for long, and had spent the day using his friend’s laptop to set up a meeting that night with a contact he had in a security company who would be able to protect him until he could land a safe transport out of the city. With his friend still at work, he had donned the suit and headed out to meet his contact.
The meeting had gone well, the two men having begun to formulate a plan to ensure Junichi’s escape, but it had all immediately unravelled as they had returned to find the door to his friend’s apartment kicked in. Entering cautiously, Junichi’s guard had been caught unawares by a Yakuza goon behind the door and was shortly unconscious on the floor, while Junichi himself had been dragged in and dumped on the ground before the city’s Yakuza boss, Masaru. Junichi’s friend was tied up in the corner, a silenced pistol to his head.
Masaru had eyed Junichi’s feminine figure and laughed. ‘You know, to say you managed to escape my compound, I thought you would be smarter than this.’
‘What do you mean?’ he replied, acutely aware of his higher, female voice.
‘You really thought we would be investing millions into the suits without a way of tracking them? When you managed to escape I thought it would take a long while before we could find you again, even in a city we own. But then I’m told that one of the suits just happens to go missing on the night you escape, and that it was tracked to an apartment of one of your known associates. You couldn’t have made it any easier. And to make things better, you have bought me back my bodysuit safe and sound. It’s not a complete model – if it had been you wouldn’t have left the compound without dropping down and rubbing that nice new pussy of yours – but I at least expected you to have stolen it to get into the hands of somebody who could actually do me some harm. Now I find out you’re wearing it instead. Well, since you look so good in it I find myself unwilling to take it off you.’
Nodding to his men, three of them had dragged Junichi to his feet sharply and stripped him of his clothes. Producing a set of open-crotch fishnet stockings and lace purple panties they had manhandled him roughly into them and slipped a pair of heels onto his feet. As they threw him into an armchair and bound him there with rope and strips of pink latex, Masaru had continued. ‘As soon as I knew you had a suit, I had myself an idea. I could rip you out of it, beat you to death and send your body to your loved ones in little pieces. Or, I could give you a more permanent torture. I reasoned that you had stolen it to out my plans, which meant you must have overheard my men talking about it and what it was for. I therefore also assumed that you knew that for a wearer of the suit to orgasm while wearing it would seal it permanently onto their person, fully transitioning them into the new body. The anatomy changes become irreversible, the original male form is sealed in without hope of release, and the mind is reduced to an obedient, stupid, horny persona. As you must know by now, the mental alterations are still a work in progress, but the anatomical shift is finalised. If you cum in that suit, you will never be able to take it off.’ Rummaging in a bag held by one of his goons, he had produced a black vibrator, a blindfold, a ball-gag and a pale pink dildo with a cold grin. ‘Fortunately, I came prepared.’
Setting the vibrator against Junichi’s bare pussy, Masaru had slipped the blindfold over his eyes and placed the dildo in his hand. Tied to the chair in such a way that he was almost horizontal and his head was tilted back, Junichi squirmed in vain against his bonds as the Yakuza boss placed the ball-gag around his neck. With a snigger, he turned the vibrator on and Junichi was unable to withhold a primal groan that shuddered up from deep in his lungs.
The pleasure was infinitely more intense than simply jerking off, and every inch of his body responded with an erotic tingling. It was a strange experience to be both vehemently against something and yet mind-blowingly aroused by it. His body was at war with itself, with one half defiant and horrified by the thought of being unable to escape this body, and the other half overwhelmed with pleasure and deeply willing to submit to his fate. Masaru laughed again as he writhed and moaned.
Despite his mixed reactions, Junichi fought to withhold his mounting orgasm. His thighs twitched and trembled as he tried to hold it back and his stomach felt as though it was flipping end over end. Electric ripples of passion lanced up and down his spine, coursed through his limbs and he could feel himself losing the battle. His orgasm was ready to break, and the horror of his fate was quickly swamping him.
All at once he felt Masaru’s breath against his ear. The man pulled the ball-gag up and into Junichi’s open mouth, tying it tight around the back of his head. The breath was hot against his skin and he tingled as the man breathed into his ear. ‘You’ve lost, Junichi. Your friend and your guard will be locked inside more suits and none of you will ever escape. But do you know the best part, the bit that makes me happiest inside? Your suit is incomplete. You will always remember the man you were. For the rest of your life as you are used like some whore for sale, you will be thinking of how you might have escaped if you just left that suit behind. But your body will be addicted to the grip of a man, the feel of his dick in your holes. You bought this upon yourself, Junichi. Now give in to life as a set of holes.’
As Masaru pulled away and stood over him, Junichi could fight it no longer. The orgasm crashed through him and even as he trembled with the pleasure of it, he felt the suit tighten around him as if to emphasise his captivity. He was in too deep a state of shock to really focus on what had just happened, and he had not the energy to fight back as Masaru’s men untied him and lifted his feminine form between them. They held him in front of their boss.
‘Are we to take him to your quarters, sir?’ asked one.
Masaru stalked over to stand in front of the woman. She was barely conscious, her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth lolling open as new pleasures continued to wrack her body and Junichi’s mind fell into denial over his fate. ‘Certainly not. As amusing as it would be to fuck this slut whenever I pleased, I would tire of the man’s complaints. I have no use for a defective model, and neither do my clients. Take her to the compound and throw her to the men. I’m sure they will have no such reservations.’
The grunt smiled, ‘We certainly won’t, sir. The men will be grateful for this.’
‘Yes, yes, I’m sure they will,’ he said, waving the man away. He turned to Junichi’s friend who was trembling in terror. ‘And have me alerted as soon as the new suits are ready,’ he called after the departing men, ‘as soon as we have the mental alterations up and running, I’ll be having this one for my own.’
The suits were finally finished a few days later, and true to his word Junichi’s friend was the first man to be forced into one. He quickly succumbed to the mental changes the suit forced upon him, and very soon he was Masaru’s obedient plaything. They spent many long nights tangled up in one another’s arms, and her high, erotic screams could frequently be heard resounding through the corridors of the Yakuza compound.
Junichi’s guard was also forced into one of the new models and served as the first of the Yakuza’s new line of prostitutes that hit the city a few weeks thereafter. By all accounts, she was very popular indeed.
As for Junichi, he faced a life worse than he could imagine. Masaru’s men were indeed grateful for their boss’ generosity, and the man turned woman quickly became a favourite among them. Rarely did they bother to pay for an expensive prostitute when they had their own whore for free in the compound. Sooner rather than later, Junichi stopped struggling and screaming. All hope for escape had dissolved once the suit had sealed him inside, it had simply taken his mind a while to catch up with that fact. He learned that to obey was in his best interests and that the feeling of dick in his holes was the best part of his life now. Fortunately for him, there was plenty of dick ready to use him roughly, and though it broke his soul to do so eventually he settled into his new life of servitude knowing that as much as he loathed the men and their sexual tortures, there was nothing he could do but submit…
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