Models: August Ames & Xander Corvus
Disclaimer: August Ames passed away in 2017. If in light of this you do not wish to view her work please skip this story.
Holding his breath, Trevor pressed himself against the wall and prayed the hammering of his heart wouldn’t give him away.
The curvy bombshell stood within touching distance. She was dressed in only her underwear, the dark blue cups of her bra pushing her tits into plunging cleavage while the material of her panties was lost between the cheeks of her equally fleshy ass. She looked like a wet dream bought to life, but in truth she was a walking nightmare.
Because despite appearances, the woman was Trevor’s best friend, Mike. Or at least she had been, until she had been forcefully transformed against her will before Trevor’s eyes.
Though his instincts screamed at him to run, Trevor knew any movement now would draw her attention. Stood stock still, the woman listened intently, clearly trying to pick out the sound of his fleeing footsteps. Under ordinary circumstances her stunning body would have whipped Trevor’s arousal into a frenzy – and in truth, even now some small part of him wanted to grope her, fuck her, worship her. But he knew that was exactly what she wanted. Her only purpose was to capture and corrupt him, and if she laid hands on him his fate would already be sealed.
Mercifully, the woman turned and stalked away down the corridor. Trevor took several seconds to force down his fear before rising to his feet. Backing in the opposite direction, he peered down the hallway to check she was gone.
This can’t be happening, he thought, trembling all over.
Trevor, Mike and several friends had only wanted a fun day out. And the leaflet had made the escape room sound like a cool option: Escape Room Ultimate: Enter if you dare! Beneath, it had emphasised the fear factor: The escape room where not everyone makes it out alive! Choose from our list of creepy scenarios and see if you can escape with your life!
Thinking it sounded cheesy and fun they had eventually settled on Attack of the Sexbots.And at first it had been fun. They had struggled to stifle their laughter as they evaded the bimbofied blonde released into the building, their hunter urging them to join her in an eerie, cold voice as she stalked through the darkened hallways in nothing more than skimpy lingerie.
At the time they had simply assumed the scantily clad woman was just a very good actress. But that had all changed when she discovered Trevor and Mike hiding in one of the rooms.
Distracted by his thoughts, Trevor didn’t realise how close he was to the wardrobe. Backing into it, the doors rattled noisily. Wincing, he froze, praying she hadn’t heard him.
The padding of her bare feet echoed up the dark corridor, and she came into the light slowly, a sinister grin on her face.
‘Join me,’ she smiled.
Then Trevor was screaming in terror as she sprinted across the room towards him. Even if there had been anywhere to run she was too fast; she covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye and suddenly Trevor was lifted off his feet. Gripping Trevor by the front of his hoodie, the woman held him aloft without the slightest effort, her smile fixed in place as she carried him across to the bed. Here she dropped him into a heap on the sheets before promptly joining him.
Peering up at his transformed friend, Trevor was paralysed by fear. Because he already knew what she was going to do to him.
‘Did you enjoy watching?’ the woman asked, lowering herself between his legs and planting her elbows either side of his hips. ‘Did it make you horny watching me transform?’
‘Mike, please, listen to me–’
‘Mike is gone,’ she interrupted coldly, though her pretty smile remained fixed in place. ‘I’m Michaela now. And Michaela wants to play. Don’t you want to play with me, handsome?’ Glancing down at his crotch, a wicked glint entered her gaze. ‘Maybe we should find out.’
In the blink of an eye, Trevor’s lower garments were gone. Michaela simply touched a finger to the material and bright white lights raced across the material in angular lines, like connections on a circuit board. Spreading faster than he could follow they ate away at the threads with acidic hunger until both his jeans and boxers were reduced to atoms. With another gentle touch the same fate befell Michaela’s bra, allowing her huge tits to drop free and swing beneath her.
Naked from the waist down, Trevor’s cock was abruptly set free and to his dismay he was already partially erect.
Unfortunately, Michaela wanted more from her prey.
Easing her head a little lower, she fixed him with her piercing stare. ‘Here, baby, let me help you with that hard-on,’ she purred. Opening her mouth she stuck out her tongue, though she was still several inches above Trevor’s crotch.
Then she coiled her hands around his shaft and Trevor’s world unravelled.
This time the circuit-like lights spread across his dick. Just below the surface of his skin they were tinted pink as they shone through the flesh. But unlike with his clothes, their purpose was not destructive. Instead they immediately stimulated the muscles of his manhood, forcing it to assume the hardest erection Trevor had ever experienced in his life. His eyes rolled and his back arched as his dick rushed up to meet Michaela’s waiting tongue.
Trevor tried to speak, but the pleasure was too much. ‘Please… please…’
‘Unless you’re begging to join me, I’d save your breath baby. After all, soon enough you’re going to need it when you’re screaming my name.’
Then she had bowed her head to inhale his cock and Trevor found himself trapped in a perfect nightmare.
He had watched the same euphoria cross Mike’s face when the blonde bimbo had manipulated him in the same way. She’d found them in one of the bedrooms. Trevor had slipped into the wardrobe to hide when he heard her coming, but Mike was too slow and was still out in the open when she arrived.
With a shrug he’d held up his hands in surrender. ‘Okay, you caught me. So what happens now?’
The bimbo’s face had been a picture of impish intent. ‘Now you join me,’ she’d said before driving him down onto the bed.
At first Trevor had struggled to bite back his laughter as the bimbo ripped off Mike’s clothes. Peering through the slats of the wardrobe door, Trevor had been dazzled briefly by a flash of white light, and when he looked again he was faced with the sight of the bimbo riding Mike’s suddenly rigid cock as if her life depended on it. Her immense tits bounced wildly as she bucked her hips and her face was a picture of mindless orgasmia.
But Trevor’s amusement turned to horror after Mike climaxed. Writhing beneath her, he shot his load with a howl, desperately seizing her hips as he drove up into her shaved designer pussy until she was gasping too.
His transformation started before the echo of their united scream died away.
From his hiding place Trevor could only watch as lines of light zipped beneath Mike’s skin like electric veins. As they spread Mike’s body changed in their wake. Body hair withered, skin softened and tanned, muscles smoothed into sumptuous curves. His short hair slid down to his shoulders, the brown now streaked with blonde dye, and his chest swelled dramatically into a pair of hefty tits. More expansion consumed his ass and hips, and though Mike was still sheathed inside the bimbo’s tight pussy, his wails of ecstasy had made it clear just how intense the loss of his cock was.
The plastic blonde only stopped rolling her hips after Mike’s transformation was complete, at which point she slid down to the bedsheets with a satisfied sigh.
Frozen with terror, Trevor prayed that the transformation had erased Mike’s memories too. However, as Michaela rose from the bed she pivoted to face the wardrobe.
‘Come on out, baby,’ she purred as her lingerie materialised from thin air. ‘Come and join us.’
Driven by pure fear, Trevor had burst from the wardrobe and sprinted for the door. He barely made it. He’d felt the hands of both woman clawing at his hoodie as he made his escape, then he had pelted down the corridor with their bubbly voices dancing after him.
Trevor had no idea where his other friends were now. Based on the absence of the blonde bimbo, maybe they had already fallen victim to her transformative touch too. All he knew for sure was that Mike’s orgasm at her hands was the trigger that corrupted him – and now Michaela was trying to make him cum too.
By now, Trevor’s dick was coated in a layer of glistening saliva. Michaela had shifted her attention to his balls, sucking them into her plump lips and swirling her tongue around them hungrily while one hand continued to pump his rigid shaft.
‘Don’t fight me, baby. You know you can’t win. I only want you to join me. I promise it feels good. And once you’re like me, we can show all our friends this pleasure too.’
Trevor knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. His orgasm drew closer with each passing second and Michaela seemed to know exactly how to manipulate his lust to her own ends. Looking down, he was faced with the salacious image of her gorging on his balls with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
Briefly, he wondered what different nightmare he and his friends would have suffered if they’d chosen one of the other escape room scenarios. Night of the Vampiress, The Goo, Rise of the Hypno Queen, The Symbiotes, Invasion of the Replacers – he could only assume that they were all just as terrifying. How many people had experienced those rooms? How many had fallen victim to the escape room’s dark power? Deep down Trevor knew he was only the latest in a long line of corrupted victims, and there would be many more after him.
Still, that didn’t mean he planned on going quietly.
‘You bitch,’ he grunted, his voice strained by the waves of pleasure rippling through his body. ‘You cold, heartless, filthy fucking monster. You took my friend and twisted him up and I don’t care what you do to me, I’ll never beg to join you.’
Rising from his crotch Michaela wore an expression of impish delight. ‘It’s cute how wrong you are. But before you break, I think I’m going to have to do something about that foul mouth of yours.’
Weakened by the lust eating away at his insides, Trevor could do nothing as Michaela moved to straddle his face. With her knees planted beside his head she immediately sank down so her groin was pressed against his mouth. Then, touching a finger to her panties, she reduced the barrier between her lips and his to atoms and immediately began riding his face.
‘There, that’s a much better way for you to use your mouth. Fuck, I think I might just keep going like this all night long even after you’ve transformed. Speaking of which,’ she said, reaching back to coil a hand around his dick once more, ‘I think it’s time we laid your old life to rest.’
With a few final pumps of his cock, Michaela bought Trevor’s orgasm roaring to the surface. He finished so hard that thick ribbons of pearly cum lashed across her bare back, though his howl of release was muffled by her grinding sex. For several glorious seconds he savoured the ecstasy as he rode the peak of his climax.
And then those seconds simply kept going.
Rather than fade, the euphoria only intensified as fresh pleasure filled him fit to burst. Already he could feel the electric veins working under his skin, spreading from Michaela’s grip around his shaft. And as his psyche split open with mind-bending lust Trevor’s resistance crumbled instantly.
‘Change me,’ he begged when Michaela briefly lifted away. ‘Corrupt me. Give me more. Please. I need it. It feels so good.’
Michaela giggled with wicked delight. ‘Told you so.’
After that she allowed herself to succumb to her own inner lust, grinding her crotch against her prey’s face with such enthusiasm that the bed creaked, the lampshade shuddered and her voluptuous body rippled wildly.
Beneath her, Trevor’s voice was lost between her thighs, but soon his words melted into muffled wails as her transformative touch worked its way through his body, rewriting him from the inside out. And as his ruined mind welcomed his fate, the last thing Trevor saw before his body began to change was Michaela’s face contorting into a mask of needy orgasmia…
Thanks for reading!
I’ll be honest, my notes to this one may not make for an easy read, but I think this story in particular merits a frank discussion. The reason for that is the fact that the female model in this piece, August Ames, sadly took her own life in 2017 at the age of 23.
As might be imagined, Ames’ death presented me with a lot to consider when deciding whether to write and publish this piece. In particular, I had to decide if I felt comfortable releasing explicit content that includes the work of a model who has passed away. I have published pieces in the past that included a model I knew to be deceased – that model being Bill Bailey – however there were caveats to those stories. For instance, his first appearance was in a chapter of Fantasy Resort that was fully written before I became aware of Bailey’s death, and my justifications for releasing that piece were discussed in my notes at the time. After that Bailey has appeared once or twice again, however in those cases he was a member of a group sex scene and/or not a main focus of the scene as he was in Fantasy Resort.
For Ames, however, circumstances were different. Because although I wasn’t aware of her death when I originally wrote this for Tumblr, by the time I chose to rewrite it for my blog that was no longer the case.
I think it is highly likely that if I was writing this piece from scratch then I would not have used Ames’ work given my knowledge of her death. However, as far as my Tumblr rewrites go this isn’t even really a rewrite at all, it’s simply an extension of the original piece. In other rewrites I have made much more significant changes, as a result of which I felt happy to change the gallery used in order to better suit the new vibes of the story. But in this case I would be changing it purely to avoid using Ames’ content and in some ways that felt kind of wrong to me. Of course, there is the argument that I could simply have not rewritten this piece at all, but in the end my justifications for doing so and for publishing it are the same as those I made when deciding to use Bailey’s work: Ames knew what content she was creating when she made this, and she did so with the intention that people would view, enjoy and be aroused by it. Granted she likely did not consider how she might feel about such content being publicly available after her death when filming this specific scene, however I don’t think it is unreasonable to assume that she may have considered that issue at some point in her career. Given that she was still an active performer at the time of her death, I can only assume she was willing to accept such an eventuality.
Still, the nature of her death does raise an important point regarding the relationship between mental health, sex work, and by extension the consumption of pornography.
Specifically, as discussed in this Vox article, ‘Ames was vocal about her battles with mental health and the stigma she faced trying to seek care as a sex worker.‘ Therapists would reportedly routinely blame Ames’ mental health struggles on her career, which is a stereotype that can often be shared by many outside of the industry. This stereotype is founded on the thinking that only people who are already ‘broken’ will pursue a career in sex work, and that the industry itself is exploitative and dangerous, thereby exacerbating existing mental health issues. Based on these assumptions, the way to resolve (or at least significantly minimise) these issues is to exit the porn industry.
However, this stereotype falls apart pretty quickly under scrutiny. For example, if the reason a model engages in sex work is because they are already ‘broken’, then doesn’t this imply that the mental health issues cannot be caused by their career because they already predated the model’s choice to join the industry? And even if the practitioner believes a model’s struggles are caused by the industry (which in itself is a judgemental assumption), shouldn’t the goal of any competent mental health professional be to assist the model in exploring the roots of those issues, because how can they expect to provide beneficial care by vilifying their patient?
Indeed the Vox article goes on to discuss that many sex workers will speak to a very different experience than the stereotype. Because while the industry is undoubtedly imperfect there are many reasons a model may choose to engage in sex work, some of which are – in contrast to the stereotype – intended to help alleviate mental health issues. Instead it is the stigma and judgement displayed by physicians when models disclose their profession that isolates them, restricts their access to mental health care, and in some cases makes their struggles worse. And ultimately it sounds like this lack of professional support was at least a contributing factor to Ames taking her own life.
As my readers already know I will always advocate for the wellbeing of the models who appear in my work, and as such I think it is extremely important to challenge stereotypes, especially when they can be so damaging. However, I think it is also worth emphasising that the wellbeing of those who consume porn is important too. Although many people may engage with pornography in a way that is healthy for them I don’t think it is inaccurate to say that porn viewers face their own stigma, and that in itself can prey on existing mental health struggles. Unfortunately, some creators out there choose to target those people with the content they produce, and whether this is a malicious act or not it runs the risk of exacerbating existing struggles in a way I cannot condone.
The point I’m trying to make here is that I am not and will never be one of those creators who wants people to ruin their lives for porn. I’d never wish for people to consume my work in an unhealthy way. I recognise that this is a subject many creators may not wish to comment on and I can understand that. But I think it is important to use even this small platform to have discussions like this because failing to do so would be a contradiction of my personal ethics and what I want this blog to stand for. I write my stories to excite and arouse, so if any of my readers ever feel that the act of reading my content is enhancing existing issues, please take a break. Everything will still be here if you choose to come back. Or if you choose not to, that’s okay too! Your welfare is more important than my smutty scribblings, so please reach out for professional support if you feel that you are struggling with things that cannot be faced alone.
To conclude, none of us can know what Ames would think about her work being viewed after her death. However, if nothing else her work has helped me raise a very important topic, and I like to hope that she would support that.
Rest in peace, August.
