Turning to face her captive, Natasha shivered with expectation. She had waited so long for this moment, and now it was here she could barely contain herself. The sight of the unfortunate man, bound tight to the table by roll upon roll of cling film until he could not move so much as a fingertip, sent thrills of excitement up her spine and set her she-cock twitching in her latex underwear.
Slowly he was coming around and discovering his immobile state for the first time. Unable to move, he mumbled around his gag. She stood watching him for several seconds, breathless with anticipation. The only exposed body parts were his feet, his head, and his beautiful cock which was slotted through a slit in the cling film to allow easy access.
If she was honest, she was almost amazed she had ever wanted anything other than this. It was so perfect, so erotically sublime she could no longer imagine things panning out any other way. He was at her mercy, and this way she would really be able to punish him for humiliating her for so long.
Nate had known he was trans for years. He had been open about it with his friends and family – a move that had garnered more acceptance than he had expected – and had been living happily as Natasha for several years; from make-up to a fully feminine wardrobe and long-term hair extensions she was as beautiful as any cis woman. Passing her in the street, you would not have imagined she still had a cock between her legs, but while the wider public went unaware of her transition and her close friends supported her completely, there were more than a few people who had watched her transition who were less than understanding.
Leon, the tall, muscular black man currently bound to her table, was the worst of her abusers. He was one of the knucklehead fitness fanatics at Natasha’s gym, and he had more than his fair share of insulting opinions regarding her transition, which he deeply enjoyed sharing with her and the rest of the gym. To make matters worse, Natasha had never been able to afford to fully transition, and though she had taken hormones to feminise her figure, they had done little to boost her breast size. To Leon, a flat-chested trans woman still in ownership of a cock was the top of any list to torment, and his continual harassment had brewed up a loathing in Natasha unlike any she had known before.
Many nights she had fantasied of how she could teach him a lesson, how humiliating it would be for him to serve as her pathetic slave. Soon enough her deepest, darkest fantasies were of him bowing to her will, though only recently had she dared to believe they might come true.
Just because she was trans, that wasn’t to say she had ever wanted to actually get rid of her cock, so the Pink Pill, the Elixir and all the other gender-swapping pills and potions had never been of any use to her. But when word had begun getting around about a new product on the scene that was designed to make fantasy into reality, Natasha had found her perfect means of revenge.
She had researched the Formula extensively and after a little digging she had managed to find a local provider who had supplied her with more than enough to fulfil her needs. Downing every drop, Natasha had giggled with delight as her body had twisted into an even more feminine form than any hormones or surgery could provide. Her flat chest had inflated into a cute pair of breasts, though since she had desire for a bimbofied body they were not the garish, colossal tits she had seen in the advertisements; she had grown used to her flat chest, and a little pair of boobs was all she wanted from her figure. Her curves had been further accentuated, her ass swelling out and her soft, smooth skin paling a shade or two. The architecture of her face had honed into more delicate, innocent lines and her false extensions had been replaced by silky black hair that shimmered under the light. Her she-cock, however, had remained in place to her utmost delight. If anything, it had grown a little, and a raging horniness had cascaded through her as she felt a powerful, dominant personality surge through her mind.
It was a strange sensation, feeling suddenly more ruthless and cunning than she ever had before. Still, her fantasy was coming true and the powerful woman she had always wanted to be was now who she was. Recognisable on the outside yet unrecognisable within, she had set about putting her plan into action.
In the dim room, Natasha stalked across to the table running her hands along Leon’s ripped body as she did so. He looked so helpless and the thought of him at her mercy drew a sinister giggle from her lips.
A few days after taking the Formula she had waited in the shadows for him to finish his evening gym session. Leon was the kind of man who would not be seen to leave the gym until everybody else had left, and as such she had known full well that there would be nobody to witness her take him. All the same, she had expected it to be easier than it was.
With Leon’s submission her deepest fantasy, she had expected all it would take was to touch his exposed skin and he would be rendered her obedient slave. Instead, pouncing on him as he was unlocking his car, planting her hand on his bare shoulder had only resulted in him wheeling around with a look of shock and staring at her wild-eyed. With a face mask covering most of her features he had not recognised her, but the latex-clad assailant had clearly struck fear into him. Before he could act, Natasha’s new cold, calculating mind took over and one sharp blow to the side of the head had knocked him out cold.
Standing over his limp body in the deserted car park, at first she had not understood. Why had it not worked? Leon’s submission was her fantasy, so why would the Formula not make him her pet?
Then realisation dawned and a cold smile split her features beneath the mask. It wasn’t just his submission she wanted; it was his humiliation. She wanted to force him to obey her, to have no choice but to follow her every order even if he wanted to resist with all his being. As if to reward her for figuring it out, her mind suddenly felt as though it was rapidly expanding. She blinked over and over with astonishing speed as new knowledge rushed through her brain, Natasha the bullied trans woman now a genius latex dominatrix.
As Leon had been coming around, she had slipped a chloroform-soaked cloth from her pocket – a precautionary measure she was glad she thought to bring – and wrapped it around his mouth and nose. Tossing him in the back seat of his car and stealing the keys from his grasp she had driven them both to the outskirts of town.
That had been last night and now, a day later, she was finally ready to wake him again. She had kept him under while she worked though now he struggled with increasing agitation.
Reaching over to remove his blindfold, Natasha caught a glimpse of herself in a cracked mirror on the opposite wall and paused. Before taking the Formula she had always loved the thought of latex on her skin, but now she could not imagine wearing anything else. A black latex bodysuit complete with glossy gloves clung tightly to her torso, with matching latex stockings clutching at her slender legs. Her she-cock was contained in a tight pouch, while over the top of her outfit she wore a green latex lab coat. With her stunning outfit, face mask and scientific goggles atop her head, she looked like a kinky mad scientist. But then, she supposed she was.
All of this was mad, twisted science: what the Formula had done to her, and what she was about to do to Leon.
With a dangerous gleam in her eye, she tugged away his blindfold and released his gag. Blinking from the sudden brightness he recoiled at the masked faced leaning into his and took a moment to take in his surroundings.
‘Do you like my lab?’ she cooed, voice slightly muffled through her mask. ‘I made it myself. The old abandoned factories on the edge of town were just begging to be turned into a naughty lair, so here we are. Alone. Scream if you want but there’s nobody to hear you for miles.’
‘Who the fuck are you?’ Leon spat.
‘Don’t you recognise me?’ Removing her mask, Natasha grinned devilishly and after a moment his eyes bulged.
‘You dirty faggot,’ he spat, ‘you’ve gone too far now, Nate, you’re going to regret this. I’ll fucking kill you! Let me out of this right now, you sissy bastard!’
Smirking playfully Natasha slunk over to her workbench. ‘No, I don’t think I will. I’ve got different plans. This, to be specific.’ Turning around, she wielded a large needle swirling with a bright yellow liquid.
Automatically recoiling, Leon fought to escape again, his eyes wild with fear. ‘The fuck is that? Don’t you come near me with that thing.’
Scurrying over to him, Natasha leered into his face, an edge of lunacy to her expression. She laughed as he strained to get away from her. ‘But I made it specially for you, sweetie. I can’t give it anybody else. Well, I suppose I could, but I don’t want to.’ A sudden darkness overtook her face and she glared at him balefully. ‘You’ve been tormenting me for years. Ridiculing me, insulting me, belittling me. All for what? Because you think you’re bigger and better than everybody else. Especially somebody brave enough to be frank about who they really are inside.
‘You know what I was thinking about all the time you were bullying me? You know what I fell asleep every night fantasising about? Forcing you to submit and feel the same humiliation you made me feel every day for the rest of your life. I want you to be my slave, and I want you to hate every second. I want your body to betray you just like mine betrayed me when I was born. I want your life to be the same Hell you made mine.
‘That’s where this lovely serum comes in. For anyone else this would have taken months, but after the Formula made me a genius it only took me a day. It’s quite clever really. Once this is inside you, it will attack your spinal cord, nervous system and most of your brain in seconds. Very soon they’ll all belong to me and anytime I give you an order you will follow it without question. You won’t have a choice: your body will be mine. But you’ll still be inside, trapped in a body you no longer control. Have you ever had sleep paralysis? I hear it is quite terrifying. I guess you’ll find out, since that is going to be how you’ll feel from now on. You’re going to be my obedient toy for the rest of your life, and nobody is ever going to suspect a thing. I’m afraid I don’t know if it is going to hurt or not, but to be honest I don’t really care.’
Frantic with terror, Leon fought against his bonds. ‘No, please no. Listen, Nate, I’m sorry. Please, I’ll do anything to make it up to you, just get that thing away from me. Please, Nate, please don’t do this.’
Planting a latex-gloved hand on his head to hold him down, she pressed her face into his. ‘My name, is Natasha,’ she said in a voice of barely contained madness, ‘but you can call me Mistress.’ With that she plunged the needle into his neck and injected the contents.
Leon’s screams rang through the abandoned building, but as Natasha had said there was nobody around to hear them. On the table his body shook and writhed, the tendons of his neck sticking out like metal rods. His head rocked from side to side violently and the feet of the table grated noisily across the floor as he shifted it. Standing to one side, Natasha cackled delightedly, clapping her hands like an excited child as she watched him suffer. He screamed and grunted intermittently, his movement growing ever more violent until all at once he fell still.
His muscular chest rose and fell heavily and he stared up at the ceiling. Approaching him, she leaned into his face and what she saw drew a chuckling moan from her lips. His expression was vacant, empty, waiting for command, but his eyes swirled with unspoken fear.
Quickly releasing him from his bonds, she shivered with excitement.
Without hesitation, Leon rose from the table, standing naked in front of her. She caressed his body adoringly and fixed him with a cunning stare. ‘Perfect. Oh, Leon, you and me are going to have so much fun together. Well, it might not be fun for you, but you’re never going to be able to tell me. Now, thank me for making you my slave.’
‘Thank for making me your slave, Mistress.’
Clapping her hands again, Natasha slipped her latex coat from her shoulders and tossed it aside. ‘Good boy. Now then, since you were always calling me a faggot, I think it would be a fittingly humiliating punishment to make you into one. I have a feeling you’re not going to enjoy this. But I will…’
Thanks for reading!
For anybody who has been following my work for any length of time, you will already know how much I admire the main model in this piece, the divine Natalie Mars. You can find much of her work on her PornHub profile: https://www.pornhub.com/pornstar/natalie-mars and I would also recommend following her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/theNatalieMars To be honest, follow her wherever you can find her because she is absolutely amazing and I will always, always promote her work no matter how many times I have done before given that she is one of my biggest inspirations.
Her lucky slave is Dillon Diaz, whose Men.com profile you can find here: https://www.men.com/modelprofile/55463/dillon-diaz and who, frankly, I think would give anything to switch places with.
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